“Smother Love” “I did a Mitzvah!” “But, I did it for you!”
How we love to both giggle and wince at these quotes. Yet, we wouldn’t laugh at these familiar lines if they didn’t hold some kernels of truth.
It’s almost Rosh HaShanah, the start of the Jewish New Year, the annual designated time for reflection and change, to discuss the ins and outs how to be a Helper.
Many of us see ourselves as good people, and one way we show this is to help others. This desire to help is a virtue, really, and a basic tenet of most religions. In Judaism, we are commanded to remember the widow, orphan and stranger even as we celebrate our own abundances or successes.
But, sometimes a virtue can be overdone to the point of becoming one’s undoing! This is best described in the Enneagrams, the ancient nine points of personality typologies that help us understand what our virtues or personality inclinations are, and how those same strengths of character can also become our undoing when we don’t maintain them in balance.
My agenda for bringing up the Enneagrams and not a Jewish text right before the New Year, is to offer you a perhaps new vehicle with which you can do the inner work of review and change during this season of reflection, reconciliation and renewal.
I’ve chosen point TWO of the Enneagram, which is sometimes called ‘The Helper’, to further illustrate my message for this post, which is how to help others who may require it, in the best way. I’m particularly thinking about those of you who, due to the tragedy of the pandemic, are driven to be helpful to people who are ill, face ability barriers, or are home bound; people who may be in hospital, isolated at home, or need someone to help with chores. You may belong to a Jewish Chesed group, or church Outreach committee, or an organization that provides assistance as a volunteer or paid staff.
So, let’s explore further:
In my first two days of Chaplaincy training I had to read about the Enneagrams, and much as I complained about not wanting to study personality theories or new ways of labeling people, learning about the Enneagrams was probably the best learning and preparation for my work that I was ever to have.
I paid particular attention to point TWO (I am a ONE). This is because TWOs, the Helper type, were the people who I was often meeting as volunteers in the hospitals and on charitable deeds committees. It was hard to discuss with volunteers why rolling up your sleeves and being helpful is a good thing, but also requires training and supervision. The lessons of Fr. Richard Rohr, who captures this personality type with such clarity and elegance and compassion, allowed me to understand and better this imbalance of desire to be a helper with how the help was being offered. Here are some excerpts from his writings* about TWOs:
“As soon as they hear the little word “need,” they scrape together the last remnant of their energy to rush to help you…TWOs are extremely sensitive to the needs of others, but not aware of their own needs…“Hell hath no fury” like TWOs who suddenly realize that they are doing all the giving and not receiving what they feel they deserve in return.”
And author Sandra Maitri shares**: “They have a self-sacrificing facade: this is the proverbial Jewish mother syndrome in which she appears to be thinking of others first and putting them ahead of herself, but in fact it is really manipulating them in this way on her own behalf. The passion of pride manifests here as a hidden sense of entitlement and privilege – a conviction that others must take care of them in compensation for their martyrdom, and that they deserve to keep the best bits in the kitchen for themselves.”
This doesn’t sound very good, does it! The self-effacing and selfless, tireless person who makes sure everyone knows how they are the helping-est person on the block, or in the church, or synagogue, or hospital auxiliary…may actually have a bad temper or self-serving motivations underneath all that goodness.
There, I said it. The difficult thing, the elephant in the room, the little boy who cries out, “The Emperor isn’t wearing any clothes!” Too often, I have seen unrestrained or untrained helpers lauded or receive awards and recognitions for their very public humanitarian achievements. But there may have been a cost for this.
Quite often, sadly, it is at the cost of those they have set out to help.
Because their helping is self-motivated or awarded with public recognition, the delivery may be more in accordance with achieving personal gratification but not in accordance with the needs of the care recipients. Especially at this time of the Jewish New Year, there may be appeals to congregants to roll up their sleeves to help. Please insure those of you responding to these opportunities also receive proper training, because your desire to help is important and we do want and need to support one another at this time of global economic and health challenges.
In our current pandemic situation, you may already be volunteering, for example, bringing groceries to an elder in a long term care home. Are you picking out what you think is best for them, or what they have carefully put on the list they’ve provided: are you picking out some trendy alkaline water you like, instead of the distilled water for nasal rinsing they’d put on their list, for example. Are you grabbing anti-bacterial wipes when what they asked for was anti-viral wipes? Or rushing to quickly drop off bags of groceries and get on with your day, something they could hire someone to do, instead of sitting with them for a personal visit.
Of course, other much worse things can happen at a corporate level, with charities scandals that we sometimes hear about, which is of the same nature as a TWO personality. This could be, for example, in a charity that is continually lauded for its disaster relief programs, while turning a blind eye to its internal lack of religious accommodation or disability integration protocols.
So, if you are wriggling in a bit of discomfort right now, that is good! You may be wriggling because of some self-awareness emerging, or because you recognize that you are tolerating or even lauding the unhelpful Helpers in your midst.
When ‘helpers’ do not realize they are not respecting the needs of care recipients, they are doing harm. When a helper is sure they know best what a care recipient needs despite the clear requests from the care recipient, they are doing harm. When a helper uses the stories of how they helped others to raise themselves up, they are doing harm. They may be on the surface doing the mitzvah of helping others, but is this truly being God’s helping hands?
Richard Rohr* shows us the way through this dilemma:
“The gift of TWOs is genuine humility, the reverse of pride. When TWOs reach the point where they recognize their real motives (“I give so I can get”), they may cry for days. When a TWO can finally cry tears of self-knowledge, redemption (healing) is near. At such moments, TWOs realize that they have perhaps damaged and injured other people while supposedly “wanting the best for them.” This is deeply humiliating. Redeemed TWOs deeply and profoundly know their innate value and preciousness and so don’t need to be continually affirmed from the outside.”
During this High HolyDay Season, the lessons of the redemption of the Helper TWO may speak to you.
It takes true courage and bravery to allow the truth to enter in, to feel the emotions that truth evokes, and understand how your beliefs and actions have affected others and may need adjustment for the better. This is what Teshuvah is: reflection and returning to our balanced Self. This is how we compassionately release ourselves from overweening ideas and actions and begin to mend our relationships and future actions for the better. This is how we grow and change and become better helpers, for ourselves and others.
L’Shanah Tovah U’metukah, May You Be Blessed With A Sweet and Good Year
Presented to Congregation Beth Shalom, September 1 2018:
I live, year in and year out, in a constant state of emptying and letting go, of internal inventory of what resonates as my truth, and what does not: it is my nature to do so; and I gain balance and meaning through being this way.
Thankfully, I have found a vocation that requires this sort of temperance: as a Jewish Spiritual Care Chaplain. Our extensive training is that when we pay a spiritual care call to someone, we must leave ourselves outside the door. We enter the room as an empty vessel, and create a sacred space with which to invite in the Divine Presence.
My other Profession, as a Musician, is the same. One must empty themselves of distractions as preparation for standing before an audience to perform; otherwise the music will be crowded out by unresolved thoughts and feelings.
This is even more so if one is a Prayer Leader, a shaliach tzibor: the prayers will not reach the heights and depths that touch the hearts and souls of congregants: the sad places, and the memories of joyous times, or of loved ones that have passed, if one’s being is preoccupied.
At no time of the Jewish year is this work of emptying and creating sacred space
for ourselves more important than at Selichot and during the Yamim Norai’im Days of Awe.
Just what defines Jewish music?
And…How do we learn to empty and renew as a pure vessel, and as Torah bids us, as newly fallen snow, to let go of the past year and be receptive to the New Year that lies ahead?
Maybe the secret can be found in the voice of the cantor on Yom Kippur at Kol Nidrey, the sound of the ancient Oboes in Temple Times, or in the sound of the Tekiah of the ram’s horn Shofar.
In other words, let’s talk about Jewish Music and how to prepare for the Jewish High Holy Days.
It is now accepted that humans had musical sounds before spoken language. That is not surprising: banging on logs or vocalizing to send and feel messages is something even animals do.
As humans we are unique in having created languages, but words speak primarily to our logical brain centers and thinking.
We have another equally important part of our brain that works alongside the logical mind, and it responds to felt stimuli. That means emotions, but also physically felt stimuli. Music.
Music is vibration. When we engage with music, we can turn off our busy thinking minds and let the experiential part of our bodies take over.
I know this as a Hospital Chaplain: how many times have I sat with a patient who was deeply feeling, but we agreed, couldn’t find words for what they were experiencing?
Listening to music or singing prayers is often the vehicle that moves patients through difficult experiences and allows them afterward to then articulate their needs and hopes.
According to Peter Gradenwitz, an instrument, “the halil occurs in the Bible for the first time in connection with the anointment of Solomon.
This instrument is not mentioned as having been used in the services of the 1st Temple, although one commentator thought it came from the days of Moses: in the 2nd Temple two to twelve halilim were used on twelve days of the year—at the first and second Passover sacrifice, on the first day of Passover, at Shavuot, and in the eight days of Sukkot.
Though in Modern Hebrew a halil is a flute, the Biblical equivalent has been interpreted as a double reed of the oboe family, because no flutes appear on any picture of neighboring civilizations at the time, and the Greek and Latin translators of the Bible were surely right when rendering “halil” by a word describing an oboe. In later Aramaic translations, the instrument is called an ‘abub’, the modern Hebrew word for oboe.”
These days, you can find YouTube videos of music as it was thought to have been performed in Temple Times. Go have a look.
But even before the Temples were built, King David wrote his Psalms. According to Alfred Sendrey, out of 150 psalms, 55 contain the introductory indication la-menazzeach.
Menazzeach is the singer chosen to lead the music or to officiate as precentor who probably instructed the choir, and may be considered the precursor of the Cantor or Hazzan. The first singing master of the Davidic music organization was Chenaniah. We read in (1Chron 15:22): “He was master in the song, because he was skillful”
Leaping from King David to the Exile we find a serious reference to musical instruments in Psalm 137:
“By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and also wept when we remembered Zion. On the willow within it we hung our lyres. For there our captors requested words of song from us, with our lyres, playing joyous music. “Sing for us from Zion’s song!” How can we sing the song of Hashem God upon the alien’s soil?”
The psalm is wrought with the pain of not only being exiled from Jerusalem, but with the taunts of their captors, demanding they joyously play music of Zion for them. Instead, the exiles hang up their instruments upon the willows by the rivers of Babylon. And thus, in sorrow, ends the prominence of instrumental music in Jewish worship.
When the Temples were destroyed and Rabbinic Judaism began, music didn’t go entirely away. It became the tropes and nusahs that we use in our prayer liturgy and text readings. Ask any rabbinic student: studying page after page of Talmud is almost impossible without having the familiar sing-song chant with which to read it. The verses of Torah and Haftarah are written in metrical phrases designed to be sung, not read as prose.
The ways of singing and of performing music in both Temple and synagogue became a decisive factor in the development of Occidental music; for the earliest Christian precentors were brought up in the Jewish houses of worship, and only adapted ancient Hebrew custom to a new purpose when they converted to Christianity.
The church took over the responsorial singing of the Middle Eastern modal melodies and many other Oriental musical features.
The hand signs and accents, the trope marks, were also adopted and from these, called by the Church ‘neuma‘, which came from the Hebrew word ne’ima, for a modal song or melody, became in the Second Millennium CE the musical notations that now indicate the exact pitches and durations prescribed by a composer. Almost as we have today in sheet music.
So, over time, music left the synagogue.
Our sages, Poskim and Gaonim, decided after the Jewish Diaspora to move away from feelings and emphasize text and words; and then they decided that after centuries of music in the Temples that now carrying and playing musical instruments was deemed work that violated the Shabbat:
The logical part of our brains must have decided that!
Music became the thing of ceremonies, of celebrations. Musicians for weddings became known as ‘song vessels’ or klei zmir. “Klezmer” became the name for our unique style of Jewish popular music.
We Jews brought our instruments and music with us to the United States in the 19th-20th centuries, and deeply infiltrated and defined everything from Jazz to pop show tunes. There is a great documentary about Jewish music in Hollywood, I think on PBS or National Geographic.
So, Jewish music became entertainment. But that too is changing. Some teshuvah, or thought about return, is happening with regard to music in synagogue by some Jewish movements. The reasons for removing it have been reflected upon and felt, and changes are slowly being made. Many synagogues, including Conservative synagogues are embracing instrumental music as an essential partner to liturgical prayers.
Tonight, this evening of Selichot, of remembrance, forgiveness, and new opportunities to be better versions of ourselves, is also an opportunity to try a new way to enter Teshuvah. Let us try through the model of music.
As I said earlier, playing music requires becoming an empty vessel. And I thought I’d been playing oboe pretty well, until I decided it was time to wean myself from the comforts of sheet music and learn to play jazz improv. The first words of the improv workshop instructor knocked me off my seat:
She said, “Jazz is about listening and allowing empty space.”
Here was the bridge between music, chaplaincy, and teshuvah.
I have talked about the first two, music and spiritual care, now. But tonight, Selichot, is particularly themed about Teshuvah.
I going to presume that most of us here know the general formula:
*Reflect back on a regrettable situation from the past year.
*Think about what went well, what went wrong.
*Try to apologize to any other person involved, keeping it simple: no qualifiers such as justifying what you did; just a straight heartfelt apology is good.
*Have that talk with God: did you have a fallout or breakup or divorce with this spiritual relationship?
*And also remind yourself of why you decided that any of these were your best choices at the time, and allow yourself to feel. That part is hard, the regret, the sorrow, the hurt for a past decision. But let the feeling wash over you, and then it will pass, as if you were left lying cleansed on a beach after surviving a stormy sea.
*Forgiving yourself or the other person is essential: this is how we become cleansed, empty vessels. This is how we grow from the willful hanging on of hurts and baggage, to the willingness to become the engaged adult. This is Selichot.
*The final step comes in the future: if in the same situation, will you do the same thing, or were you able to let go of the wrong decisions of the past and grow into the better ones for the future?
You have to be empty and listen in order to do this work of teshuvah. You have to be able to turn off the thinking and noise in your head in order to feel the remorse and move on.
We Jews have evolved a clever way during Elul of shutting off the inner talk and texting that may be distracting us: We blast on the Shofar!
The Shofar is the remnant of Biblical instruments that is very much extant. No one shouts, Hey wake up and listen to God! Don’t text while praying! from the Bimah. It just won’t work. That would just be mere words.
But the Shofar, with its penetrating pure sound, makes a direct hit into our hearts and pulls us upward, releasing us from our bondage to words and thoughts.
No one wants to sit with difficult feelings all alone. That’s rough. The good news is that you don’t have to be alone; whether it happens in synagogue or the privacy of your home. Because on Rosh HaShanah, as always, God is present. And at this time of year we think of God as our King, but not a king to punish us for our past mistakes; a watchful King, a King who wants us to be strong the way God is Strong, too. We prepare by cleansing ourselves inside and out, and then march past, not knowing how the year will be, but knowing that we are accompanied by our King.
As we’ve discovered, Jewish music is everywhere, from Jazz to Gregorian chant to Hollywood to Bnei Mitzvoth and wedding celebrations.
This year, let Jewish music be part of your renewal. Remember our rich heritage of worship with music and musical instruments.
This year, we’ll have oboe music as you enter the sanctuary for Kol Nidrey; and when you hear the Shofar during the services, let the sound cleanse your mind, and allow the process of Teshuvah and Selichot to…
…Return You Home To Who You Really Are…
L’SHANA TOVA V’ZIMRA
During my summer break in Amsterdam, while attending a gathering with musicians from around the world, I came full circle back to Jewish instrumental music, and to the upcoming Yamim Noraim, the Jewish New Year season.
Lunchtime discussions with composer and musician colleagues from such places as Iran, Armenia, and Turkey included experiences with local contacts in the Jewish music communities where they live; music
that had originated in Persia and then moved into Turkey as musicians fled persecution some 400 years ago. The subsequent rise of the great Cantors and Jewish composers of Europe in the 1800s such as Salomon Sulzer and Louis Lewandowski exemplified the growth and popularity of exotic or ‘oriental’ music interests in Austria and Vienna prior to WWI.
Here the connection amongst my international peers became personal: For several years now, I have played Lewandowski’s heavenly adaptation of ‘Kol Nidrei’ on oboe, accompanied by cello, as the opening to the Kol Nidre service that opens the holy day of Yom Kippur at my local synagogue.
I want to share with you how having such instrumental music enhances the Yamim Noraim experience for congregants and patients, and some of the technical and practical information you might want to have about engaging such music for your place of worship or service.
Chaplains such as myself are mostly all aware that music has therapeutic, spiritual and healing capacities. We work with music therapists, sing at bedside, and bring recorded music to our patients and families to ease their time while unwell or transitioning. We can also bring ensemble music into worship or reflection time.
The benefits of instrumental music are that there are no words: it is pure experience, both for the listener and the performer. When I play Lewandowski’s piece, there is a moment when the notes climb just so high; and then I let go. The notes are released and go upward, unfettered by words or ideas; I think some even may still be rising.
I have had feedback from congregants that they, too, went somewhere at those moments of musical release. No words were exchanged. No sermons said, or liturgy sung, or readings read. Just a rising above, a seeking toward the Ineffable, and then a slow, blessed, and reflective return to the here and now.
That for me is the opening to the Kol Nidre service.
Practicalities if you wish to engage instrumental music for the High Holidays at your place of worship:
Play the music in secular time, before candle lighting, from the Bimah or other visible place, after everyone is seated and quieted. Musicians’ dress in white. Perhaps play some lovely Jewish melodies for ambience, as people are finding their seats, with no need for an attentive audience. Some good melody choices are: (Erev shel Shoshanim) “ערב של שושנים” (Avinu Malkeinu) “,אבינו מלכנו”(Dodi Li)“,דודי לי.” Keep the ensemble small, 2-3 musicians.
How to compensate the musicians? We have to talk about that. Although we say musicians “play” music, it is a job — and hard work! Please pay appropriately. The rate should be about $300-$500. Remember, there is a great deal of time invested by musicians for recruiting the right ensemble, choosing repertoire, rehearsals, clothing, for time setting up, the actual performing, and then taking down. What would you pay a guest speaker for a keynote plus other speeches at a major synagogue event? Adjust according to the venue: a care home, a chavurah, a large urban synagogue, etc.
I love doing the work of bringing instrumental music into spiritual care settings. I also believe that bringing instrumental music to worship is a form of spiritual care for the congregants who are not in a care home or hospital. We can all benefit from the inclusion of spiritual connection through instrumental music to our already well-founded traditions of liturgies, Torah, and sermons.
Try this for your ימים נוראים and let me know how it goes.
לשנה טובה ומתוקה ומוסיקלית
*this article can also be found in the Neshama: Association of Jewish Chaplains Newsletter pg. 9