The Tallit and a Tale of Two Conventions-Parashat Sh'lach-L'cha-Numbers 15:37-41
Rabbi Lawrence P. Karol-Temple Beth Sholom-Topeka, Kansas
At about 4:30 a.m. on May 24, I was doing my final packing
for my trip to Pittsburgh for the Central Conference of American Rabbis
Convention. I took out my tallit, one that I bought in Jerusalem 22 years
ago. When I arrived in Pittsburgh,
I searched frantically for my tallit.
When I spoke to Rhonda that evening, my suspicions were confirmed – the tallit
was still on the bed at home. For
the services I attended, my brother Steve graciously loaned me a kippah. Appropriately, it was the kippah from
Adam’s Bar Mitzvah.
The
Eternal One said to Moses as follows:
Speak to the Israelite people and instruct them to make for themselves
fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages; let them attach a
cord of blue to the fringe at each corner.
The fact that I felt incomplete without my tallit
illustrated one aspect of the Principles of Reform Judaism that the CCAR
ratified on May 26. In the section
on Torah, it declares: “We are committed to the ongoing study of the whole
array of mitzvot and to the fulfillment of those
that address us as individuals and as a community. Some of these mitzvot, sacred obligations, have long been
observed by Reform Jews; others, both ancient and modern, demand renewed
attention as the result of the unique context of our own times.” My sense that
I can also pray without a tallit signifies the diversity that exists in our
congregation and others, as people choose the mitzvot and practices that are
most meaningful to them.
That
shall be your fringe; look at it and recall all the commandments of the Eternal
One and observe them, so that you do not follow your heart and eyes in and give
in to urge and temptation.
I began to wear a tallit during my college years, when I was
a participant in a Saturday morning egalitarian minyan at Hillel at University
of Illinois. The Orthodox service was in the chapel upstairs. About twenty of us gathered in a
setting in which men and women shared equally in the the roles and
responsibilities of leading the service.
At my rabbis’ convention, and at Hava Nashira, the songleading workshop
I attended last week, it was not
unusual to see men and women wearing a kippah, a tallit, and, at weekday
services, the traditional tefillin for the arm and head.
Thus
you shall be reminded to observe all My commandments and to be holy to your
God.
The Hava Nashira gathering demonstrated the broad range of
music that is used within the Reform movement. This time, I remembered to take my tallit, and I used
it every morning. Worship was a
highlight of our several days together as we joined our voices in unison
singing and multiple-part harmony.
We learned several new melodies for Lecha Dodi that we sang as a medley
at our service last Friday night.
Two cantors on the faculty led some prayers in the traditional chanting
modes for weekday morning and evening and for Shabbat. Some of the tunes we sang I have
introduced here, while others are melodies that we sing on a regular
basis. Music sessions after meals
also gave us a chance to show our collective spirit and spirituality. Whenever we sang together, we felt were
reaching for a special sense of holiness.
I,
Eternal One, am your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt to be your
God.
There is one story from Hava Nashira that must be told. When I woke up last Saturday morning, I
found out that we had no power.
In addition, water came out of the shower in a very slow trickle,
because electrically-powered pumps provide the camp with adequate water
pressure. I was able to get ready
despite that problem, and went to breakfast. Some of us agreed that the power outage was intended to make
us observe Shabbat in a more traditional way. As we began our Shabbat service at 10:00 a.m., I told the people next to me, “The
power is probably going to come on again as we are saying some crucial passage
in the service.” A few minutes
later, after we said the Barechu, Debbie Friedman was teaching us a tune for
the next prayer, “Yotzeir Or,” which praises God as the creator of light. As we
sang those words, all of a sudden, the lights came back on. We broke into laughter and as we felt
relief and amazement. As composer
Craig Taubman rose to lead us in a slow and meditative rendition of his song,
“Master of All Things,” we shared a renewed sense of the sanctity of our time
together. It may not have been our
prayers that brought the power back at that moment, but we knew that the power
of our prayer reflected God’s presence with us on that Shabbat morning. Any community has that potential to
create a sense of unity and of warmth, as if we are always wrapped, together,
underneath the same tallit.
The
Eternal One is our God. |
| Jamming at Hava Nashira 2002 on Shabbat Afternoon (sorry, no 1999 photos!) |
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