To be fair, it’s not davening (praying) itself that I hate, it’s doing it in shul (synagogue). It’s been drilled into my head since 5th grade that if you don’t daven with a minyan (quorum), your tefillos (prayers) are less likely to be answered and you're pretty much a bad Jew. That probably has something to do with why I rarely go.
I find it hard to concentrate on davening to begin with. If I go to a shul that davens fast, I feel rushed and don't know what I'm saying half the time. If I go somewhere that davens slow enough that I can concentrate on what I'm saying, I get bored and leave early.
Then there are the distractions. The worst is the guy that davens louder than everyone else, but only for a few words at a time. I'll be in the middle of concentrating on my tefilos and all the sudden I'll hear him and completely forget where I was. Then there’s the obviously needed repair to something in the room that hasn't been done. There’s one shul I davened at once (I wish it was just one) that was in such a state of disrepair that I spent the entire davening imagining how I could fix it up. Throw in a few talkers and shushers, and chances are I won't concentrate at all.
When I daven at home, I don't feel like my tefillos are being ignored. I feel like I can have more concentration (at least when Matis isn't there “davening" with me), go at my own pace and overall have a more sincere and meaningful conversation with G-d. Isn't that what davening is all about?
It doesn't help that staying home is a lot more convenient. I wouldn't make a big deal about all the minor annoyances that go along with going to shul (weather, leaving the house, seeing people, being seen by people, talking to people, finding a seat), if I felt the davening was good.
People talk about shuls as a family of sorts, or at least as the center of a community, but that hasn't been my experience. I went to the same shul for well over 20 years and by and large nobody there would know if I completely disappeared, least of all the Rabbis. One day around Rosh Hashanah, one of the Rabbis made a speech saying that when you daven alone, you're judged on your own. When you daven in a shul, you're judged by everyone there. I took a look around the room and said to myself “Darn, I'm screwed” and that’s when I finally realized it was time to leave that shul. I realize that it wasn't a mature or nice response, in reality the majority of the congregants were good people, but at the time I couldn't see past the few I had issues with.
Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are hard times for me. I understand the severity of the days and I want to be in shul, davening in a way that is fitting for such days. I finally found a way to do that. A new shul opened that I actually enjoyed going to. The pace was nice, the people were friendly and actually spoke to people they didn’t know. Unfortunately, it was only for Shabbos and Yom Tov, which are times that I generally go to shul anyway. Even more unfortunately, all I've heard about this shul from anyone who doesn’t go there has been negative. So much negativity. I constantly have to remind myself that I'm not religious because of how religious people act or talk, I'm religious because of what I believe.
I find myself once again, the day before Rosh Hashanah, dreading going to shul. I’m in a strange land, which I like, but which lacks the comfort of my hometown shul. I have to choose between going to a YU yeshiva and a French shul. The yeshiva will likely be overcrowded and I don’t believe there’s a way to reserve a seat. I’ll be uncomfortable the whole time, because I’ll feel like I’m in somebody’s seat, but at least they speak English. The French shul is confusing. All those French language courses I took for a couple weeks only taught me how to harass ladies who don’t want to go out for drinks with me. Quite useless, as I’ve never had a French lady refuse drinks with me. I’m leaning towards going to the French shul and davening at my own pace and nusach. I always feel like everyone there is staring at me, they probably are, can’t say I blame them, just look at me :).
Here’s to next year being better. Maybe my doctor will finally let me take some ADHD medicine and I'll be able to find a way to enjoy going to shul (not sure I can blame it all on ADHD and OCD, but maybe?). Until I figure that out, I'll just have to trust what we say in our tefillos, that G-d knows the thoughts and intentions of all men.
Shana Tova!
No comments:
Post a Comment