Shul Shopping

Three weeks.  Three shuls.  One neighborhood.  Oy.

I'll admit, this is a vastly different scenario than anything I've previously experienced.  Back home, I never had so many choices.  There's a longstanding joke among Jews about the two Jewish men on an island who build three synagogues: "One for me, one for you, and the one we never go to."  But at home we only had one shul for our small but dedicated community.  In college I had a few more options, but even in my neighborhood I was limited to two: the one I went to and the one I never stepped foot in.

Before moving I wondered what I might find in terms of a shul and a community.  The fact that I was moving to the Mecca of orthodox Judaism was of no consolation, since it wasn't exactly my favorite flavor of Jewish observance.  My mom suggested I start my search with a simple search through Google Maps in order to at least make a list of my opportunities.  A smart idea, to be sure, and one which I had already done.  The results?  A map dotted in red like sprinkles on a child's ice cream.  So  many from which to choose!  Right?  Eh....

Whether fortunately or unfortunately, I'm looking for a very specific brand of Judaism which is a little hard to come by in this particular part of Brooklyn.  Ultimately, based on suggestions and a little research, I was able to make a list of four synagogues to try out.  I'd like to document some of my experiences thus far, categorized and turned into a game as only a good, slightly obsessive analysis should be:

The Space
Each synagogue I've attended in the last three weeks has been bigger and grander than the last.  The first one I went to was old.  And squeaky.  It was a little dark, a little musty, but in many ways not so far removed from what I've grown to know.  Last week the place was larger, the sanctuary brighter, and everything a little more impressive.  I was astonished then when I walked into the women's gallery at the shul this week.  The sanctuary was actually a little breathtaking.  The large domed ceiling with a Star of David in lights at its apex, the Ark with its filigree and intricately carved designs, the exceptionally tall stained glass windows lining both sides...it was impressive.  I'm not suggesting that the beauty of a space is the most important - or even a substantial - element in picking a place of worship, but it does give some insight into the community that maintains it.  In this category, Shuls #2 and #3 are in a tie: both beautiful, #3 slightly more beautiful, but the larger space made it a little harder to hear because of the echoing.  

The Mechitza
As I mentioned in a previous post, the women in Orthodox synagogues sit separately from the men.  This is a longstanding tradition going back to the times of the Temple and, according to some sources, the Bible, and is typically explained as a means to keep the men from being distracted from their prayer.  This is a tradition that my family has upheld even when we're in a synagogue that doesn't require such a separation, so I'm all for it.  There are a number of ways of maintaining this separation or partition, known as the mechitza.  At the synagogue where I was first introduced to the concept, the men and women were separated by a curtain running through the middle down the length of the room.  In other synagogues, women sit behind the men with a similar curtain separating the sections.  Still others have the women in a balcony or mezzanine seated slightly above the men either to the side or behind (not always a full floor above), usually with a curtain, opaque glass, or two-way mirrors to obscure the men's view of the women.  

The first synagogue I attended here had the women's section above and to the side of the men, with a tall wooden barrier obscuring not only the men's view of me, but mine of the service.  Last week, the women were seated in an upstairs gallery behind the men, but there was also a tall curtain affixed to extend the height of the barrier.  I could see a little and I heard better than the previous week, but only by a small margin.  I wasn't even able to see when Tomm was given an honor at one point in the service.  True to Jewish form, he has made me feel appropriately guilty.  Also true to Jewish form, I'm convinced I deserve the guilt.  Many thanks to my mother and mother-in-law for successfully passing on that little tradition.

In the shul I attended today, the women's gallery was exceptionally expansive.  The balcony was three-sided, plus there was a women's section alongside the men's separated by a wooden mechitza.  There was no additional curtain in the balcony, just the regular railing one might expect, so my view of the service was unobstructed.  Shul #3 wins this round, hands down.

The Service
In Judaism, a service is a service.  It has an order that everyone follows.  Within Orthodoxy, there is usually very little variation.  Maybe a little more song here, faster speaking there, and there are a few places for a community's individual expression, but typically you know what to expect.  The difference, to me, is all in the sense of community.  At the first synagogue I felt very little community.  The second and third, slightly more.  The last two weeks have been almost identical in terms of the service: I felt equally comfortable during certain parts, and equally lost during others (like at the start of the Torah service when I was fumbling to find exactly where we were starting and to listen to the person reading whose voice, because of the large space and the speed at which they were reading, got muddled and lost before it reached my ears).  That's something I could get used to, though.

The other part of the sense of community is in its participation.  In some congregations, they're content to just be there, doing their thing, while someone with a better (read: louder) voice takes care of business up front.  Then there are others where it's a true community effort with everyone singing, taking turns, helping out, and basically making it feel like a community.  That's what I grew up with.  It's where I come from, and it's what I rely on.  In Shul #1, the chazzan (cantor or prayer leader) was perhaps more a leader than a singer.  In Shul #3, the chazzan was skilled but solitary in his singing.  In Shul #2, the chazzan had a beautiful, powerful, resounding voice which carried the melodies skillfully throughout the space and made the golden walls seem just a little brighter.  I could hear that there were also congregants with similar talents; during a few uniquely melodious parts of the service I heard the men join with him in harmony.

Unfortunately, in every shul the women did not join in.  Whether this was because of an adherence to a custom that married women shouldn't sing in mixed company or because they simply don't consider themselves singers is beyond me.  Either way, I was not entirely encouraged to join in, but because music is such an integral part to my Jewish experience, I couldn't stop myself from singing countermelodies and harmonies under my breath when I could.

Shul #2: you win this one, in spite of the women's silence.

The People
I've written about my experiences with the people at the first shul, so you're already familiar with my not-so-great impressions of that community.  Last week the women were much friendlier and more inviting, especially at the kiddush after services.  They were warm and excitedly wished me gut shabbos while encouraging me to come again, and when I introduced them to Tomm they were thrilled about the kallah and chosson (bride and groom) in their midst.  This week, I didn't have much of an opportunity to really speak to anyone since they didn't host a kiddush afterwards (odd...), but there were a few women who wished me gut shabbos and overall they seemed pretty welcoming.  I'd have to go back and speak to them more to get a better idea.  Shul #2 would win except that a negative interaction Tomm had with a congregant makes me hesitant to give them the award for this round.  So for now, this round has no clear winner.

In Conclusion, it's pretty plain to see that Shul #1 is simply out of the running.  It's not their fault, really; I just have high expectations.  I was fairly content at Shul #2 but Tomm wasn't quite as pleased, so it's not at the top of my list.  Shul #3 was also very nice but I'd have to go again or speak with some people there to get a better idea of the community.  I still have one more on my list which I'll attend next week, and I'll update you with the results of the contest.