Summary: Friday night ok (or good considering circumstances);
Saturday morning quite good.
Friday night I, with the cantorial soloist, led Shabbat services.
Last week this service switched to a different siddur (a homegrown
interim one based on Mishkan T'filah that they've been using
for the 6:00 service). That made things a little challenging
for me (the navigation isn't hard-wired like for its predecessor),
and more than a little challenging for the congregation. So that
was one challenge.
Another challenge -- and I think this knocked me a little off-kilter
going in -- is that even though we tell people receiving honors
(candles, kiddush, aliyot) to be there 15 minutes early, one of the
two people designated for the aliyah was AWOL at start time.
(We normally have one aliyah split between two people.) Normally
I would have just shrugged; she'd show up or she wouldn't, and
if she didn't the other person could do both blessings just
fine (I know him). But, I didn't know the missing person
and some congregants don't know the blessings and are prepared
to do only their assigned one, and I wanted to split a long torah
reading into two aliyot. That would mean each person would do
one, doing both blessings, which ought to be a no-brainer but
you can't assume. So, I wasn't sure how to proceed. (Another
reason I didn't want to do it as one long aliyah, once I found
out who the honorees were, is that one might have had trouble
standing that long.)
So, just as the cantorial soloist and I were deciding "we'll go
and just wing it", the person showed up. And she said no to
doing an aliyah by herself. What I should have done,
if I'd been thinking quickly, is to say "fine", walk over to
someone known to be capable, and asked that person to join us.
But I didn't think of that before someone else thought to invite
this person's husband or brother (I didn't catch which), which
involved more negotiation right there in the sanctuary.
Bottom line, we started about 4-5 minutes late. I hate
being late!
During the service it became clear that the cantorial soloist and
I had opposing tendencies in one area: she wanted to stop and explain things
at several points in the service, because of the new book, while
I wanted to rely on familiar liturgy to guide people. (I mean,
it's not like any of the core prayers changed. There were some
different English readings and some of the page order was a little
different.) I hadn't anticipated that, not having seen her "in
charge" in this situation before. (Last week, one of the rabbis
was there and she deferred to him in things like this.) While
she has no more formal credentials than I do, she's up there
every week and I guess she sees
herself as clergy and me as a less-capable layperson. I'm not
trying to diss her; I think it's a natural perception to have.
And if she has that perception, it would be natural for her to
try to step in on things like this. Oh well; it's not likely
to come up again, so there's no point in trying to work out what
happened or discuss it with her. It's one more learning experience
for me, a thing to remember to coordinate on in advance.
However, all that aside (and some of it was not as visible to
the congregation as to us), I think the service went pretty well.
I had taken the precaution of applying post-it notes where there
was any ambiguity at all in the new siddur, which helped me move
through it seamlessly. Because this was a photocopy from a book
designed to foil photocopying, some English passages were a little
harder for me to read than they would be in a real book, so
there were some minor stumbles there. (With the Hebrew it didn't
matter so much because I know a lot of it cold. Though, important
point for leaders IMO, even when I have something fully memorized,
when I am leading I am on-book, and even following with a finger
when I can. A small distraction should not be able to derail the
leader.)
With some of the text being less familiar and/or hard to read,
I was a little concerned about maintaining the connection with
the congregation (the semblence of eye contact, getting the book
out of my face, etc). I was gratified to receive compliments
on my reading, particularly my diction, pacing/rhythm, and spirit.
Oh good.
The new book doesn't contain the torah service, so we switched
back to the old book for that. That worked out well; it meant
that I could hold a sefer torah (torah scroll) and still casually
manipulate a very-familiar book. (Why yes, I can turn
a page in a held book one-handed, if it's not too big. I thought
everyone could, until someone commented on it.)
Note to future self: mic + sefer torah + procession can cause problems.
If I get to do this again, I will just turn the thing off for a good
chunk of that, relying on either the fixed mic at the desk (when not
standing at the ark) or good old lung power to be heard. At least
until I ask my rabbi how he does it... (Or, better yet, a woman
with, err, upper-body volume.) Have I mentioned lately how much
I hate using mics at Shabbat services? (Not least because of
the halachic issues.) But our sanctuary pretty much requires it,
especially if we want to support those with hearing difficulties
(who are able to plug in headphones to hear better).
The torah-chanting went pretty well. I stumbled in a few places
and corrected myself, only having to do real violence to the trope
once. The issue was tropes (melodies), not usually
words. If I get a trope wrong and it "doesn't matter" I'll just
blow through it, but if I need to do a phrase that's going to
consume, say, three words (to get the comma in the right place)
and I start to do one that maxes out at two, I have to fix it
or I'll mess myself up for the rest of the verse. This passage
had a lot of places where there was repetition in the text but
the tropes were different, which made it hard to memorize the
tropes. I think this might have also been the longest passage
I've chanted, which I didn't notice up front.
For all that I stumbled in places, though, I got a lot of compliments.
There were two types of people who said "that was hard" -- the ones
who were probably reacting to the length, and the ones who I know
were following along in the Hebrew with the tropes and knew how
to read them. :-)
I had asked someone else to give the d'var torah (talk), someone
I enjoy studying with who has given many good divrei torah on
Shabbat morning but has never spoken for the larger congregation
that I'm aware of. He did a good job. And it gave me a chance
to not be the focus of attention for a few minutes.
This wasn't my best Friday-night service, but it was acceptable
and I've learned some things about dealing with new-to-me
circumstances. I don't think I've done wrong by my rabbis,
and I'll do better next time.
Shabbat morning started out small (a dozen or so), which had me a
little concerned. It is true that there are people who don't
come if they know the rabbi won't be there, which is a little
frustrating because it's supposed to be a community
(and, in fact, that service is the best regular community we
have in the congregation). But that's their call. What I was
concerned about was having critical mass to achieve that sense
of spirit that comes through all the singing we do. Fortunately,
more people did file in and we ended up with a group that I would
call on the small end of normal (as opposed to smaller than normal).
I didn't count people.
I did a good job with leading the singing a-capella. (My rabbi
plays a guitar, but I don't know how.) My voice is strong enough
to be able to establish key, pace, cadences, etc, so I can pretty
much ignore the people who will, given half a chance, try to
change things to their own liking. (They don't usually do that
to the rabbi, of course. So they don't to him and can't to me,
but they can and do to some of the other lay leaders.)
We had some relative newcomers (a couple weeks), so I was particularly
mindful of navigation. I was happy to see that they were fully
participating and seemed happy. (I gave two of them hagbahah
and g'lilah, honors in the torah service.)
Chanting torah went better at this service because I had a
checker who knows the trope system. So when there was a question
she was able to sing the word to me and I went on. (I had also
circled, on the copy I gave her, the tropes I was most likely to
have trouble with, as kind of a heads-up to her.) I was sure
to tell the congregation that she was not being nit-picky and I
had asked her to be that precise; I didn't want anyone
to think she was being pushy.
Both Friday night and Saturday morning I did one thing that I
thought was clever. Because the passage was long I didn't want
to chant the whole thing and then translate. (It would have been
several minutes, and Saturday morning most people don't follow in
a text.) The portion broke logically (and whitespace-wise) into four
parts, so I would chant a "paragraph", read its translation, and then do
the next one. (Each aliyah got two of those pairs.) That's not the
clever part. The clever part was realizing that handling a
scroll and a book in that way would be a huge mess, and Friday
night I didn't have someone there to just read it for me, so
I printed out the English in a nice big font, one paragraph per
sheet of paper. So when I got to the end of a section I could
just pick up the top paper with my spare hand, read it,
push the page aside, and continue. I first did this with that bar mitzvah
that I conducted a couple of years ago (where I also had pages
for the names of the people getting the aliyot); it worked well
there so I used it here.
(This passage was tricky enough that even though there was a
lot of repetition, I didn't want to try to translate straight from
the scroll. There were just enough suble differences to make
that a challenge. If I were just the torah reader in a rabbi-led
morning service I would have tried it, but as the "rabbi substitute"
for the whole morning I was mindful of being disruptive in a setting
where things are already non-standard.)
I'm happy with how the morning service went. Still mystified by
how I picked up about 10 minutes of time, but happy.