Return to Kehilla for Singing

Last night I returned to Kehilla Synagogue, after my first visit of a couple of weeks ago. It was billed in advance as a musical service, and I was expecting a group of musicians and a big, noisy crowd. I got there and hurried to grab street parking, only to find a lot full of spaces in the lot. I once again expected hundreds but counted 19 folks (with a few stragglers). Most appeared to me middle-aged and older lesbian couples and there were three or four men besides me.

Inside the roomy sanctuary, we sat on folding chairs near the bima, with several candles set low before a Debbie and Julie, who are Kehilla songleaders. Julie I had met before, at the first service, when she showed me around the place.

The music ran from end to end, with nicely done drumming--Debbie is well regarded for her skill after decades of exploration. It gave a quality of Middle Eastern music, the rhythms keeping us all alert when there was also a tendency to feel sleepy. That's because there was a period early on where we got to schmooze a little. Later, we stretched, breathed deep and went on a guided meditation led by Debbie.

The service moved along, and I tried to sing along with it, referring to three different printed handouts. It was enjoyable in a way--but didn't feel especially Jewish to me. I'm used to the Reform service, which has music but is more of a "performance." I appreciated that we all were involved--and even that there was a period when we could speak about something we were dealing with--"crossing a bridge" as it were. But I got a little fidgety. Seeing a few attendees dancing freely alongside the group felt a little like something from a Grateful Dead concert.

Afterwards, we all met in the room downstairs and had a nice kiddush, sponsored by one of the women there. It felt warm and friendly. I was able to meet a few more of the congregants, and I sang along comfortably with the kiddush. Any time you can eat a handful of challah, pulled right off the loaf, it's a blessing.


The service was full of positive energy and included the essentials of Jewish ritual, but was also looser and had a sense of the experimental. Mention was made of the rabbi's recent meetings with other clergy to talk about the Occupy movement and while I found this interesting, I don't seem to be as focused on the political action component of Judaism as this congregation is.

I left with a strange feeling of disconnection. For some reason, this kind of service isn't moving me, and I'm not sure why. I get more invigorated by the more traditional Shabbat at the Chabad shul, even though I understand less of it. Despite my feeling of being part of the '60s hippie generation, I don't really relate to this kind of hand-crafted event. But that's part of  what my Jewish Roots Project is about--finding where I fit and where I don't.

I plan to come back again at some point to try another type of service to see how that works.

Kehilla Synagogue--Intimate and Inclusive

I had the chance to spend Saturday morning Shabbat with the kind folks at Kehilla Synagogue. I had been meaning to go since it's not too far from home and I was eager to see what Renewal Judaism is like in an established congregation.

My previous experience with Renewal was with "chaverot," which meet in people's homes, gathering together for the high holidays (Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur) but going their own way the rest of the time.

The Renewal movement of Judaism, which grew out of the 1960's and the Aquarian Minyan (founded in Berkeley in 1974). There is a strong sense of wanting to heal the world, partly from those who were appalled by the war in Vietnam and who had a stong sense of social justice. Kehilla is fully open to all, feminist, all-inclusive of gay, lesbian, bi, transgender--well--everybody--even non-Jews. And, as is the case in so many congregations today, couples often contain only one Jewish member. Kehilla has always been accepting of these families.

Kehilla (it means "community" in Hebrew) was founded in 1984 by Rabbi Burt Jacobson, who has been a rabbi for 45 years! He was there on Saturday and I had the pleasure to meet and talk with him a little.

I actually visited Kehilla many years ago when they shared a building with a church in Berkeley, but now, they occupy a fine old church at the edge of a thriving commercial street in Piedmont, California--right where it becomes a neighborhood of homes.

I wasn't sure how big a space it would be at Kehilla, but I was pleased to find that this Shabbat was intimate, taking place in Fireside Room downstairs. The main sanctuary looks big enough to handle a pretty large crowd, which it surely does on the major holidays. I got a tour from Julie, one of the first to arrive. She is involved in Kehilla's substantial music organization, a small part of which I enjoyed on Saturday. I also met Rina, who is a lifelong singer and who led the musical part of the service--which was a lot!

This service seemed like a good one to attend because it going to talk about art and creativity and how it relates to Judaism and spirituality. As a musician, I was intrigued. And we did talk about it, with Rabbi David Jonathan Cooper, one of the co-founders of Kehilla. He was serious, humorous, thoughtful, and very open. There were a few places in the service where congregants spoke about (or blessed) something--in this case, we spoke of light and of art.

I said a couple of things as part of the group. I have always had mixed feelings about this, because I feel like we non-rabbis are not experts, but the kind of inclusion at Kehilla felt right. There was a significant amount of praying, in Hebrew, but also singing--very pleasantly rendered with harmonies by several of the attendees.

My experience in childhood was of sitting and not participating, but Kehilla welcomes participation. When the Torah was opened up to be read, several of us took part, from unwrapping to holding, and when the three aliyas took place, anyone who wanted to could come up and do it together. I liked that. It spreads the honor. Nobody was dozing off or getting bored, although I was surprised at how many people joined the service after it had started.

I had thought that perhaps the Renewal service here would be too "way out" or not have a strong basis in tradition but I didn't find that here. I heard plenty of Hebrew, and some of the melodies were the same ones I learned in the Reform synagogue as a child. And, there were some new melodies, including ones written by people in that room.

After the service, which went for more than two hours (it felt like less), we went into the next room and celebrated with a nice oneg, with a spread of traditional Jewish food, including home-baked challah (thanks, Steve!) and we had a grape juice kiddush.

I had some interesting conversations. One person told me she and her husband joined because it was a community without gossip. Everyone got along. That seems like a good idea to me. Of course, I've had a pretty nice time at every service I've attended with the people themselves. When I consider affiliating with a congregation, perhaps next year, Kehilla will definitely be in the running. I felt at home there, and that whatever I was or did would be OK. My non-Jewish wife could come--if she felt like it--and nobody would mind. Kehilla is politically active and very much part of the modern world, which feels good--and different. The significant emphasis on music, participation and inclusion feels right.

It's a 20-minute drive away, too.

I plan to attend a larger event--a musical Shabbat at the end of the month, and will report back.

Purim - An Amazing Story of Jewish Survival

I remember Purim from my childhood, but it's mainly for the noisemakers and the tasty hamantaschen (see photo). I knew there was something about Queen Esther (was she sort of like Queen Elizabeth?) and a king and an uncle. But that was it.

Now, as an adult, with an interest, I have heard the entire Book of Esther, which is read during Purim. The observant Jew is supposed to hear it twice over the two-day Purim Holiday--in its original Hebrew. I heard it once this year, but it was the first time ever.

Luckily, there's an English translation alongside the Hebrew in the little book I held during the reading so I could keep up with what was going on. While the rabbi chanted from the beautiful hand-calligraphed scroll, I l earned about how the Jewish community, in exile in Babylonia (modern Iraq), was nearly destroyed. It seems the king was unhappy with his queen, who wouldn't show up when called (he had a harem), so he had a beauty contest to replace her. Esther was chosen, but she hid the fact that she was Jewish (this is surely not the first time this has happened).

Esther's uncle and guardian, Mordecai, had heard of a plot against the king and saved his life by having Esther pass it on to the king. But at the moment, the king, who seemed surprisingly easily manipulated, is told by Haman, his evil counselor, that he can and should wipe out the "others in their midst." Once again, a sadly familiar tale. For some reason the king goes for this and sends out a decree to kill all the Jews.

Of course the Jews are shocked and horrified. But rather than just having Esther intercede, Mordecai gets the community to pray, and finally tells Esther. She fasts for three days and then approaches the king. Now, just walking in on his majesty could get you killed but she does make her plea. Then, the king realizes that Mordecai was the one who saved his life before and the plot turns 180 degrees in an instant. It's Haman who loses out and the Jews are saved.

Unfortunately, the king's proclamations can't be rescinded, so he has to issue another one, essentially arming the Jews against their attackers. The Jews kill off a bunch of people and become so frightening that some non-Jews convert to Judaism to protect themselves. I didn't see THAT coming.

I didn't realize that the first day of Purim is a daylong fast, so when I arrived at the Chabad shul some folks were ravenous. Since I'd eaten, I didn't stay for the festive meal, and because of other commitments, I couldn't attend the big party the next night. But I did get the message this year. I hope every holiday that comes along I can learn and understand more deeply than I have before.