I hate the high holidays. I hate the focus on repentance, and the large crowds at the synagogue, and all of the standing, and having to dress up, and the depressing Eastern European music, and the endless communal guilt. I would much rather spend the time watching a Father Brown marathon.
But I pushed myself to join the choir anyway (which, at my synagogue, mostly sings during Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur and not much the rest of the year), and each year I push myself to go to as many of the rehearsals as possible, even though I’m tired by 8 pm (which is when choir rehearsals always start). And I push myself to get up early for the morning services on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, and wear something other than a t-shirt and jeans, and stand and sit and stand for hours. And, I resent it, every year. I especially hate the emphasis on all of the sins we are presumed to have committed over the past year, as if I wasn’t already spending many hours each day combing through my life for my actual sins and trying to correct them.
So, why do I go? Because it’s an obligation; because of FOMO (fear of missing out); because this is the one time each year when I get to see all of the people who rarely come to Friday night services; because I’d be lonely sitting at home knowing everyone else is there.
And, because I love to sing. Music is such a mystery to me, because even when it’s imperfect or depressing, it is still, also, transcendent. It connects me with other people; even with people I might otherwise have nothing in common.
Do I believe, or agree with, every word in every prayer we sing over the high holy days? Not at all. Is it meaningful to me to think of God as a judge or a king, doling out forgiveness for sins I’ve never even committed? Nope. But when those words that mean so very little to me, and even piss me off, are put to music, they are transmogrified into something new and my body becomes one of the instruments producing and receiving and echoing sound. This imperfect body of mine, that feels so much pain and that I feel so self-conscious about, becomes a vessel for transcendent sound for a little while every year, and that only works if my body is in the room with all of the other bodies.
I wish we could all come together for happier occasions, and sing Israeli pop songs, or just tell stories and laugh together, but for some reason, when everyone sat down to decide which holidays were going to be the most important ones on the Jewish calendar, they chose Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur (at least after the destruction of the second temple in 70 CE, before then the most important holidays were Sukkot, Passover and Shavuot, weeklong festivals to celebrate harvests – more about Sukkot next week). So, why did my ancestors decide that the most important days of the year were the ones where we have to pound our chests and asks for forgiveness and beg God for another chance? I have no idea. But most of the Jews who go to synagogue on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, and not once the rest of the year, pay expensive yearly dues for the privilege. And they seem to think it’s worth the cost.
Maybe they’re there for the music too, and how it feels to be in a room full of people singing together, no matter what they happen to be singing. Or maybe they don’t realize that there are (much) happier holidays on the Jewish calendar that they could be celebrating with their congregation. Or maybe my people just really love repentance. It doesn’t matter. The decision has already been made, and I can either be there with them, or stay home alone. So, I go. Every year. And I sing, every year. And I whine and complain and need long naps to recover afterwards every year. And I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my novel, Yeshiva Girl, on Amazon. And if you feel called to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.
Yeshiva Girl is about a Jewish teenager on Long Island, named Isabel, though her father calls her Jezebel. Her father has been accused of inappropriate sexual behavior with one of his students, which he denies, but Izzy implicitly believes it’s true. As a result of his problems, her father sends her to a co-ed Orthodox yeshiva for tenth grade, out of the blue, and Izzy and her mother can’t figure out how to prevent it. At Yeshiva, though, Izzy finds that religious people are much more complicated than she had expected. Some, like her father, may use religion as a place to hide, but others search for and find comfort, and community, and even enlightenment. The question is, what will Izzy find?
rachelmankowitz 
I don’t do Yom Kippur anymore. Just like you, I got tired of the overflow crowds at Temple, along with all the repetitious chanting for repentance.
I do like to observe Rosh Hashanah in a low key way. Yesterday at Temple there was the usual crowds for the last morning of Rosh Hashanah.
IN the evening there was a nice musical Shabbat for Rosh Hashanah.
I went to that and felt spiritually renewed. I think I’m what some people call
a secular Jew; not all that religious
L’shanah Tovah
Claude
Musical services all always my favorite!
TO XingfuMama:
I love your blog. It’s very cheerful,and colorful.
It creates a nice sensory feel. That’s the way I write my poetry
Claude
I wonder if some of the people who only show up at Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur have a similar mindset to those Christians who attend Ash Wednesday and Good Friday church services out of a sense of obligation. They are rarely seen in church or mass except the somber holidays plus Christmas and Easter. Obligation and tradition are powerful motivators for us.
As always, I look forward to your posts because I learn something from each one.
That very well could be. Except for Passover and Rosh Hashanah, and Purim I don’t do that much holiday observance. I go to Shabbat about twice per month. I like to think I do Shabbat mostly by my actions in the way of social justice and activism. Thats how I express myself as Jew and as a person
Claude
Thank you! I think you’re right. Obligation is a powerful motivator for most people.
I love this, Rachel! I attend an Episcopal church and it is so comforting and yes, all of the other things you describe so well, too! I love your writing. Be well!
Thank you so much!
Shana Tova! I love the music although I never went to Hebrew school (supposedly it wasn’t important for girls to go to Hebrew school in the 1960-70s🙄😳) and I don’t know any thing I’m saying but I love singing it anyway.
❤️
The more fluent I become in Hebrew the more I notice the words in the prayers, for better and for worse. But the music is the real magic. Shana Tovah!
I am somewhere between Bahaism and no religion. One of my therapist goes to a church in Texas. The church has an arcade machine. My plan is to read part of one the books there, then use the machine.
I love the idea of an arcade inside of a church or synagogue. Religion, and community, should be fun!
Yes, it is a church, where they talk about Jesus and similar religious topics.
A common conundrum throughout the religious world. Even the most joyous of holidays are prefaced with periods of repentance and (we hope) forgiveness. Perhaps it is the endlessness of them that becomes our penance and our songs the gratitude we display for the forgiveness. BTW I love your description of your body becoming “a vessel for transcendent sound for a little while every year.” Use you vessel at school someday, some more joyous day. Give the kids even yet something else to think about. And yes I heartily agree with my experiences – I go, I complain, I need long naps, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Last year we had a prayer service as part of our regular Hebrew school day, and we sang and danced and laughed together, and I loved it! Our format changed this year, and we had to give up on that service, but it was magical. I hope we can bring it back in the future.
That sounds definitely like something you would enjoy. I would imagine everyone did. There should always be room for joy and joyful service.
I hope you are able to get that back. The joyful parts are so important.
‘hate’ is a very strong evil word 😢Dislike is a better choice! I am a 70 yrs old navy vet and have seen the word ‘hate’ all over the world, believe me you did not mean to use that word 😉
I am so very sorry for expressing my opinion and you know what they are and everyone has one 😉
Worth thinking about. Thank you!
Your high holidays sound like a typical Catholic service. I’m sorry they are so difficult for you. I hope you find a way to enjoy them and find the connections you need.
It’s like running a very long maze, but there IS cheese in the end.
Cheese sounds better than stale bread. 😂🤣😂
Well said. Thank you.
I love this post, Rachel. You continue to search for the positive messages in religion, and I’m with you that this is often found most powerfully through music. I also agree with you that God is not about vengeance. Thank you for exploring your thoughts so articulately and for sharing. You have so much to offer.
Thank you so much!
I like your description of the transformative nature of music, especially when sung in a group. Music with words that I no longer believe is still, somehow, very comforting to me at times, and speaks to some part of me.
Thank you!
Enjoy the signing.
I meant singing. Darn autocorrect.
Thank you!
I always enjoy reading your posts and today’s comments were especially interesting. I didn’t learn Hebrew as another person mentioned it was optional for girls in my generation.
Shana Tovah
Shana Tova!
This was an interesting piece. I had to read it a few times. I am still debating if you used incongruity as a comic device or not.
Your article says this to me: Fear (of what will happen if they don’t repent) is a much stronger motivation that joy (which happens in the other holidays).
Unfortunately, I think you’re right. I wish joy was more of a draw.
You have described how I feel about Christmas, with the social pressure to buy gifts, over-eat and dress up in uncomfortable clothes while feeling bloated. But I love the singing and the worship, and drawing closer to a Loving God. We humans have messed it up, unfortunately. I wish you a happy new year.
It’s nice to know that we all suffer from similar ills.
I wish you a Happy New Year, Rachel. I hope the services are more meaningful and less painful for you this year than in past. ❤
Christians, of course, differ from Jews in viewing Jesus as the Messiah who died for the sins of the world. I can only write from that perspective. But let me say a few words on the concept of communal guilt.
While most of us are not murderers, the history of mankind is the history of violence. War is almost always ongoing somewhere in the world. Crime and corruption are constants. So are poverty and injustice.
If we do try to live godly lives, we are still not exempt from private sins, among them pride and self-righteousness. Of course, abuse survivors are often plagued by false guilt, perfectionism, and an over-active conscience. We already torment ourselves, as a consequence. Any requirement of communal repentance hardly seems necessary.
Yet, God says, “…if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land” (2 Chron. 7: 14).
Why is that statement directed to believers? Well, for one thing, non-believers are hardly likely to repent unless they come into relationship w/ God.
And we who know Him, know that His standard for holiness is far in excess of ours. Mankind since the Garden of Eden has had a fallen “sin” nature. Even if we do our best to obey God’s laws, we will always fall short. The law is, in fact, a demonstration of our need for a Savior.
Hope that helps a little.
Thank you!
Singing in a group is fun, relaxing and rewarding. Thanks!
Absolutely!
I have only experienced the High Holidays online watching and singing along with Central Synagogue in NYC. There does seem to be a lot of standing and sitting followed by more of the same. So many services for the H.H. !!
The prayer book for the high holidays weighs a ton!
Maybe it’s because I grew up Catholic but I love holidays which focus on repentance. It’s very …hmm… grounding, in a way. Although I can easily see how it could be miserable at worst, or even just an unpleasant task. I suppose it’s a good thing that everyone comes together for it, to make it more bearable!
Definitely.
Just wanted to say: I love Father Brown! I’ve watched it for ten seasons.
Happy New Year. Hope it’s better than usual this year.
Thank you! Father Brown is awesome!
There is something about music and chanting, that’s transformative! Something I think that speaks to our ancient roots.
Absolutely!
I do so agree with much that you’ve written! I too luv, luv, luv, singing. In fact, I’ve been listening to my favourites from the great musicals – and singing along – especially lately to, Sierra Boggess, who has an angelic voice. Comradery is very important. That is where ‘dancing’ comes into focus for me. To be with ‘like minded people’ brings great joy.
All of these wonderful personal luvs overcome the not so sweet parts…
That’s the hope!
Music does indeed transcend everything else. I believe God wants us to live in His forgiveness, fullness, and joy and not in a state where we beat ourselves up for every imagined or possible sin. I agree with you.
Thank you!
I can feel your discomfort, uncertainty, guilt, and need all rolled up in your writing — and how singing rests your soul. I understand why. My son often leads services at his reform synagogue, and then goes to an Orthodox synagogue his fiance has been going to for years. He leads prayers at both. He sometimes sings prayers to me over the phone, in Hebrew — his voice is so clear I become mesmerized.
That’s so beautiful!
Just writing what I felt when reading your words. 🙂
Thank you so much!