Shabbaton
This Shabbat was my congregation's annual retreat. I look forward
to this every year. This year there were 30 of us (a few more than
last year); we get a rural lodge and spend Shabbat singing, praying,
studying, and talking. (And eating. I'm told it's genetically
impossible for Jews to get together without lots of food. :-) )
My rabbi told us that anyone who wants an aliyah should tell him, so I did. I'm generally reluctant to ask for honors, but the Shabbaton is special to me (my first one was hours after my beit din), and -- this may sound quirky -- I almost never get to hear my Hebrew name. So I took the opportunity. (I used to get aliyot frequently at the weekday morning minyan, but now I lead that service so I don't. Which is as it should be.)
In the afternoon we studied a passage from Pirke Avot, Ben Zoma's "who is wise?" teaching. It goes roughly like this (primary sources not to hand): Who is wise? He who learns from everyone. Who is strong? He who conquers his urges. Who is rich? He who is content with his lot. Who is honored? He who honors others. (Each of these is supported with a passage from scripture.) This is one of my favorite passages from Pirke Avot, by the way.
The way we studied this was neat. After some introductory discussion, we split up into small groups. Within each group, we each talked about people in our lives who are wise, strong, rich, and honored. I got to hear some neat stories and I feel like I know a few people a little better now, and I presume others felt the same way about me. I enjoyed this.
During some free time in the afternoon I worked on the torah portion I'm reading in two weeks. I'm going to read, not chant -- it's the (lesser) tochecha, a passage full of rebukes, and it's customary to read it quickly and quietly. I'm not necessarily going to be quick or quiet, but I figured not chanting would be a change from my usual pattern and a nod in the direction of tradition. Besides, it's a long passage and I'll get more of it if I don't spend time learning the trope. This time, unlike the last time I tried this, I'm not having trouble seeing the phrasing in the text. Structurally it's pretty straightforward.
We did a lot of singing Friday night and at the meals. Several people lobbied me to join the choir; this is not uncommon. (After the last service the choir sang at, a few weeks ago, the director said "we need to get you in the choir". I said "would you like to know what I'd consider a carrot?" So now I'm supposed to send him some Salamone Rossi music to look at.) I was in the choir briefly several years ago and it wasn't a good fit, but I had a conversation with a current member at the retreat and it sounds like one of the biggest problems I had isn't there any more. So maybe.
Our cantorial soloist came this year (her first time). She wants me to join the band. :-) (We have a congregational band that plays at Mostly Musical Shabbat on the first Friday of each month.) The hammer dulcimer would be too much trouble for that (between having to make special arrangements to drop it off and pick it up, and the 45 minutes or so needed for performance-grade tuning, and the scheduling of that service). If their current drummer ever leaves I might do that, maybe. On the other hand, it looks like the bnad members don't get to really pray with kavanah, so this would clearly be a case of giving up my own worship to enhance others'. Which I'm willing to do at times, but I'd like to know that I actually am enhancing others'.
The directions to the campground (supplied by the campground) were full of errors. A couple years ago I annotated the directions on the way in and we gave that to the campground; I learned this weekend that I'm not the only one who's done that. None of it has been effective. The directions out were even worse; the low point was something like "go 15 miles and turn right at the sign for Such-and-Such Inn, near a church and a yellow arrows (sic)". There was no sign. There was no church. At 16 miles there was a caution-style yellow sign. That turned out to be it.
If we can get a street address for this place, next year it'll be Google Maps for us. And if there's not a street address, we should be able to get enough information to find something that looks like a campground on the satellite photos and work it out from there.
Note to future self: do not discuss politics with the person who drove me there, no matter how much she asks. Not everyone who says "I've never met a libertarian who wasn't a wingnut" really means it when saying "I want to understand how you think".
My rabbi told us that anyone who wants an aliyah should tell him, so I did. I'm generally reluctant to ask for honors, but the Shabbaton is special to me (my first one was hours after my beit din), and -- this may sound quirky -- I almost never get to hear my Hebrew name. So I took the opportunity. (I used to get aliyot frequently at the weekday morning minyan, but now I lead that service so I don't. Which is as it should be.)
In the afternoon we studied a passage from Pirke Avot, Ben Zoma's "who is wise?" teaching. It goes roughly like this (primary sources not to hand): Who is wise? He who learns from everyone. Who is strong? He who conquers his urges. Who is rich? He who is content with his lot. Who is honored? He who honors others. (Each of these is supported with a passage from scripture.) This is one of my favorite passages from Pirke Avot, by the way.
The way we studied this was neat. After some introductory discussion, we split up into small groups. Within each group, we each talked about people in our lives who are wise, strong, rich, and honored. I got to hear some neat stories and I feel like I know a few people a little better now, and I presume others felt the same way about me. I enjoyed this.
During some free time in the afternoon I worked on the torah portion I'm reading in two weeks. I'm going to read, not chant -- it's the (lesser) tochecha, a passage full of rebukes, and it's customary to read it quickly and quietly. I'm not necessarily going to be quick or quiet, but I figured not chanting would be a change from my usual pattern and a nod in the direction of tradition. Besides, it's a long passage and I'll get more of it if I don't spend time learning the trope. This time, unlike the last time I tried this, I'm not having trouble seeing the phrasing in the text. Structurally it's pretty straightforward.
We did a lot of singing Friday night and at the meals. Several people lobbied me to join the choir; this is not uncommon. (After the last service the choir sang at, a few weeks ago, the director said "we need to get you in the choir". I said "would you like to know what I'd consider a carrot?" So now I'm supposed to send him some Salamone Rossi music to look at.) I was in the choir briefly several years ago and it wasn't a good fit, but I had a conversation with a current member at the retreat and it sounds like one of the biggest problems I had isn't there any more. So maybe.
Our cantorial soloist came this year (her first time). She wants me to join the band. :-) (We have a congregational band that plays at Mostly Musical Shabbat on the first Friday of each month.) The hammer dulcimer would be too much trouble for that (between having to make special arrangements to drop it off and pick it up, and the 45 minutes or so needed for performance-grade tuning, and the scheduling of that service). If their current drummer ever leaves I might do that, maybe. On the other hand, it looks like the bnad members don't get to really pray with kavanah, so this would clearly be a case of giving up my own worship to enhance others'. Which I'm willing to do at times, but I'd like to know that I actually am enhancing others'.
The directions to the campground (supplied by the campground) were full of errors. A couple years ago I annotated the directions on the way in and we gave that to the campground; I learned this weekend that I'm not the only one who's done that. None of it has been effective. The directions out were even worse; the low point was something like "go 15 miles and turn right at the sign for Such-and-Such Inn, near a church and a yellow arrows (sic)". There was no sign. There was no church. At 16 miles there was a caution-style yellow sign. That turned out to be it.
If we can get a street address for this place, next year it'll be Google Maps for us. And if there's not a street address, we should be able to get enough information to find something that looks like a campground on the satellite photos and work it out from there.
Note to future self: do not discuss politics with the person who drove me there, no matter how much she asks. Not everyone who says "I've never met a libertarian who wasn't a wingnut" really means it when saying "I want to understand how you think".