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Northern Virginia Hebrew Congregation by Helen Roper |
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Nestled behind and to the side of the St. Thomas a Becket Catholic Church in Reston is a moderately sized building surrounded by trees. From the outside it’s fairly nondescript, but upon entering the building, it becomes a little clearer what the building contains. Watercolors of ancient buildings reminiscent of Biblical times and a large framed history of the synagogue’s Torah1 adorn the warm gray painted semicircular walls. A grouping of foliage sits between two sets of large wooden doors. On the side of the doors on the left, a poster hangs on the wall, asking all to turn off beepers and cell phones while in the sanctuary, and asks no one to enter or leave the sanctuary while congregants are standing. A trolley stands in front of the doors, filled with books, newsletters, and baskets of yarmulkes. Headed by Rabbi Rosalind A. Gold, this 37-year-old synagogue uses the “Gates of Prayer”, which is the prayer book of the Reform Movement. Inside its pages one will find prayers and songs written in Hebrew, English and “phonetic” Hebrew. The room to the right of the main entrance was being set up with chairs and tables, and food was being prepared on long tables around the perimeter of the room. A wall, which connects the room to the sanctuary, is portable, and I assume this would probably be removed for High Holy Day services. As parents worked, children played along the side, away from the bustle but still close enough to be watched. I entered the sanctuary, and was surprised at what I saw. I suppose I was expecting to see old, bearded and yarmulked men in a room filled with pews, with the exception of a large, grandly decorated Ark for the Torah. What I did see was a large room, with individual chairs arranged in a gentle arc around a raised area. The floor was carpeted, and the Ark was simply marked by large, metallic-looking doors, nestled in the center of a gentle arching wooden wall that was sitting on its own raised area. On the left were the choir and a pianist, busily practicing their music. To the right was a pair of lecterns and 4 chairs. One wall was almost completely filled with windows, and 7 plaques in the shape of scrolls held names; some of them had a small light beside them. A woman was on the dais along with a few men and a couple of young teens; I noticed the woman was wearing a yarmulke. I suspected she was Rabbi Gold. When she had a free moment, I went up and introduced myself, and asked if she had a moment for a question. I asked her why she was wearing it, and she explained that some women in the Reform and Conservative branches choose to wear one in lieu of a shawl. She added that it was not required. I left the Rabbi to finish her preparations. As people began to take their seats, I noticed that several women were wearing them, as all of the men were. The Shabbat (Hebrew for "Sabbath") began with a prayer and a song, while two candles were lit; the prayer was in English and the song was in Hebrew. Most of the service was composed of songs and prayers, sometimes in English and sometimes in Hebrew. There were a few moments when the Rabbi spoke, but the great majority of the Shabbat was cantor-led song - haunting melodies filled with a full spectrum of emotion – from joyful to sad, interspersed with prayers. Two young teen girls led a few of the prayers. At one point during the service, all the people turned to face in a direction away from and to the side of the dais, pointing themselves toward Jerusalem. I expected to see the Torah removed from the Ark. This did not happen. Instead, the doors of the Ark were opened by the Cantor and Rabbi, revealing three scrolls in a lit space; one of the scrolls was twice the size of the other two, and all were covered in red velvet with gold embroidery. I noticed a light was inside the Ark and pointed at the larger one. A prayer was said, and during it I noticed several people make a slight bow followed by a half body nod, rather like the men one sees in films of the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem. The doors were closed and the people sat down. Before the final song of the evening, the Rabbi said a blessing over a goblet of wine and a loaf of bread. She said this was in preparation of the “oneg”, which is a reception celebrating the Shabbat. After the service and as people were filing out, a woman that had sat in front of me during the service turned to introduce herself. Her name was Shelia. She welcomed me, and I explained my purpose there and asked her if she would be kind enough to answer some questions I had. She graciously agreed, and I soon discovered that I could not have found a better person for my queries: she was raised in an Orthodox Jewish family, and made comparisons for me to better illustrate how things were done in both the Reform and Orthodox Movements. I asked her why the Torah was not removed during the service? She explained that the Torah is removed from the Ark on the “Bimah” (Hebrew for “altar”) Saturday morning for services, and if we were in an orthodox synagogue, the Torah would also be removed an additional three times during the week, so that the rabbi and assembled men could discuss particular passages. I also asked her why some people made a small dip and a bow from the waist during one of the prayers and at the moment the Torah was revealed in the Ark. She explained that the movement is called “shuckling2,” and it doesn’t have any formal movement, but what I witnessed was what was usually done. She said some Jews will shuckle toward the four corners of the earth. She couldn’t tell me, she said, exactly why it was done, but it has something to do with bringing one’s whole body into prayer. She went on to explain that it’s not like genuflecting - that’s not done in Judaism. However, she did explain that the lineage of the ancient priests of the first Temple in Jerusalem has been preserved, and the descendents, called the Kohanim (surname Kohan or Cohan), will come into the synagogue during Yom Kippur services, dressed completely in white robes, and actually prostrate themselves on the floor before the Torah. When they do that, the members of the congregation will turn themselves away from them in respect of their holy lineage. I asked her what her take was on women wearing yarmulkes. She said it was a decision not to make lightly, because once made, it becomes a life long commitment. She said it’s like Orthodox Jewish women wearing shawls to cover their heads in temple. Shelia added that some Orthodox Jewish women, once they are married, would cut their hair close to the scalp and wear wigs with hats to temple services instead of a shawl! I told her that I assumed the two girls opening some of the prayers were due for a Bat Mitzvah, and she concurred. I also asked about the seven scroll plaques that had names and lights. She said that they were the names of people in the community that had died, and that it was a descendant’s responsibility, at some point in their lives, to insure that the deceased person would always be prayed for. So, she continued, for a price, one could have the name engraved on the scroll, and at the anniversary of their death, the light would be lit so that the community would pray for them. She said it was expensive to have the name engraved, but it was a duty to have it done, so it didn’t matter how long it took to save up the money. Shelia took at tangent at that point and explained the significance of the “Book of Life”. It is opened at Rosh Hashanah and closed at Yom Kippur, and each person has, in effect, written his life in the book for that year. The strength of G_d’s blessings (I found it interesting that she actually did say “God’s”) for that person, and whether or not He would answer that person’s prayers in the coming year, was based on how well he or she lived their life during the preceding year, and if any necessary amends had been justly made. So, she went on, a Jew’s relationship with G_d was more like a partnership to be taken quite seriously. G_d wants all men to be treated fairly and justly, and it’s each Jew’s responsibility to do so. An older man approached us, and Shelia introduced him as Bert, the Torah instructor for the children’s school. She said that anything I wanted to know about Torah, Bert knew. At that, Bert said he knew little, but did know where to find the information! He asked Shelia what the last letter of the last word of the Torah was? She said she didn’t know. He told her, and they briefly debated the word that was formed by the first letter of the Torah and the last. Shelia said she thought it was “Love”. Bert said he wasn’t sure, but would have to look it up. Seems there was another congregant that was involved in Gematria, and Bert was obviously intrigued. At this point, Shelia invited me to the reception for a drink, and I gratefully accepted. After my glass of tea, I thanked her and the Rabbi for allowing me to attend and for taking the time to answer my questions. Before I left, Shelia invited me back anytime I wanted. She said interfaith dialogue was a good thing. I had one question to ask, though, and that if she didn’t mind answering, why did she leave Orthodox Judaism? She smiled and said that for some women, having their lives outlined for them was OK, but it wasn’t for her. She wanted to make her own choices in life. I walked home thinking about my experience there. I had a grand time, never felt out of place, and certainly enjoyed talking to Shelia. She had mentioned that she believed the synagogue library (and she was sure the Rabbi would allow me to use it) had a copy of the “Encyclopedia Judaica” – a very hard-to-find publication that I was very interested in. Maybe this wouldn’t be my only visit after all!
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| Created by Laura Ellen Shulman |
Last updated: October 26, 2003
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