Streaming

Shalom:
I have been going to shul virtually for several months now. My blood counts have been low and I shouldn’t get a germ, so I sit in my den with my iPad and watch services from Beth El and other conservative shuls that also stream. It’s not bad at all. But is it good?

Synagogue streaming didn’t happen overnight – there are halachic issues that required attention – but the technology is a godsend to homebound folk. Not only for services but it also makes it possible for funerals to be accessible to relatives and friends who can’t manage a quick fly-in for the service.

About a year ago the Times published an opinion piece by author Laura Turner entitled “Internet Church Isn’t Really Church.” I found her arguments persuasive. Turner recognizes the stresses of making time for services and showing up anywhere near on time, especially if there are kids to dress. “It would be a lot easier not to go to church.” And people are figuring that out. Some churches already report online attendance surpassing those who show up. Consuming church the way we consume the news is more convenient, and more in line with our lifestyles than the traditional Sunday (or Saturday) visit.

But Turner is not a fan, except of course where people simply cannot physically attend. Her objections (which work for me too)? Live streaming presumes that God is primarily present to us one on one, as individuals, rather than as a community of believers. That presumption may echo the ethos of our time but the concept of a quorum (minyan) argues otherwise. Further, getting religion in our living room, on our phone, is not the best experience that religion can offer. It’s not only that we miss the physical space and the power of being part of a congregation in prayer. As Turner puts it, “In an era when everything from dates to grocery delivery can be scheduled and be near instant, church attendance shouldn’t be one more thing to get from an app. We can be members of a body best when we are together – we can mourn when we observe and wipe away tears, just as we can rejoice when we can share smiles and have face-to-face conversations.

I have my own issues with streaming. Two will suffice for now. The first is foreshadowed above. No community is created when you aren’t sitting next to anybody but yourself or sharing some tuna and politics at the kiddush. Without actual relationships, nobody might know to visit you if you are sick, or help make up a shivah minyan if you need one. And there are just too many distractions at home. We are experts at multi-tasking, I am among the premier expressions of that, and it’s easy to clean a few dishes or glance at the newspaper or look at the mail pile. In my experience – and this is another blogpost – the main spiritual challenge in davvening is to not be distracted, and shul gives us a much better chance to achieve that.

My bottom line: streaming of services and funerals is a real benefit to people who could not be present otherwise. For those who can be present, better they should be in shul or church. Synagogues and churches which could but do not stream probably  support the latter viewpoint, but shouldn’t they offer the option?  Regardless,  I can’t wait to be present myself. Best, Bill Rudolph

Zealotry

Shalom. November 4th is a significant date on the Jewish calendar and I want to tell you why. I am not much of a rebel when it comes to Jewish law and practice, but I must confess that I no longer observe one of the minor fast days, Tzom Gedaliah. There, it’s out.

Tzom Gedaliah is observed on the third day of the Hebrew month Tishri, the day after Rosh Hashanah Day Two. It commemorates the assassination by a Jewish zealot of the Babylonian-appointed official named Gedaliah who was charged with administering the Jewish population remaining in Judah following the destruction of the Temple and exile in 586 B.C.E. There are different views of this Gedaliah – from a good man with good intentions to a pawn of the Babylonian conquerors. He was surely no saint or scholar, and he ruled for a few short years with little actual power. Yet for the last 2500+ years those Jews who observe the minor fast days, as do I, have observed this one. Easily hundreds of millions of Jews have observed this fast, with no food from sunrise to sunset, the day after Rosh Hashanah.

On the 12th of Cheshvan, which was November 4th in the year 1995, the life of Yitzchak Rabin was snuffed out by a modern day Jewish zealot. He was prime minister at the time, and was gunned down by a Jew, an Israeli, in order to stop him from moving forward with a peace process that might have changed the course of Israel’s history. His killer was religious, a so called pious man with a disturbed vision of Judaism who was supported and encouraged by fierce incitement from rabbis, politicians (maybe including Benjamin Netanyahu) and others. Together, they painted Rabin as an enemy of Israel and the Jewish people, as a demon, and as a Nazi. It was a political atmosphere that certainly beckoned violence. His death slowed the peace process, which was never robust, and peace has surely not gotten closer since.

So, your friendly rebel thinks the Jewish people today should exchange a fast day that has seemed irrelevant for ages for a new fast day, Tzom Yitzchak, in memory of a modern day Jewish leader and hero whose life was (also) taken by a zealot. It would reinforce the need to keep searching for peace. And the observance would serve to keep us alert to zealotry, which we see both in Israel and in America in growing intensity. Changing the tradition is never easy but it seems a no brainer. What do you think?              Best regards, Bill Rudolph