Riesenbach.com

October 4, 2024

This year, at Rosh Hashanna services, I personally suffered divine retribution.

I was making myself comfortable at the Narayever’s JCC Gymnasium-cum-shul looking forward to slipping my eReader into my Machzor and surreptitiously reading my new ebook. Just then, the local Shamash button-holed me.

She whispered into my ear that she knows me well enough to ask a last minute favor. It appears that the regular volunteer who sits by the big flip-chart at the Bima turning the big numerals cards to mark the Machzor page was busy. She needed a stand in – “for just a few hours”. Would I be willing to take on this ‘honour’?

On the tip of my tongue was: “No thanks. I had planned to zone out this morning immersing myself in some irrelevant and indulgent reading – find yourself another Yid”. But, I found myself saying “uhhh, okay …”.

A Reluctant Participant

So, with a quick nod at Perla, I moved from the anonymity of the middle rows up to a seat at the front of the Bima, next to the Aron Hakodesh and just behind our Kittle-wearing Rabbi. In full sight of the congregation! Arrgh! Hundreds of people now have me in directly in their sights! No sneaky book reading for me! Goodbye bliss! Hello boredom!

Now, flipping big numerals on a stand is not as passive a task as you may think. It required constant attention and tracking to where the Rabbi or the reader was in the Machzor. Sections of prayer are skipped, repeated or cross-referenced. One needs to follow-along and rise just before the end of a page to flip the oversized plastic digit card on the correct panel. Sections of silent reading required exquisite timing to move the congregation forward at the right pace, synchronized with the occasional utterances of the reader and the sounding of the shofar.  I could write a dissertation on the art and science of flipping!

Anyway, there I was at the front of the shul. Sit and read, stand and flip, sit and read, stand and flip – repeat. Hour after hour with my much anticipated new ebook gathering lint stuffed into my Tallit bag!

Oh the irony! God had concocted and executed a particularly brilliant plan to make this non-believer suffer on these high-holy days!

Concentration was key in this gig – hundreds of congregants were depending on me. In all my shul-going years, never have I monitored and followed the service so intently. I couldn’t let myself fall into blissful day-dreaming — I had to be on my game. Oh, how I envied the anonymous masses!  Sitting idly in obscurity – likely in a boredom-induced stupor or engrossed in a whispered side-conversation. They only have to raise their eyes to read the page number numerals on my flip-chart on the occasions when they decided to catch up to the liturgy. Lucky buggers!

Maybe Not So Bad …

As the minutes stretched into hours, the mechanics of the task became more second-nature. While dragging my finger over the Hebrew text being chanted by the reader on the Machzor page on my lap, I found could simultaneously take in the English translation and even read the edifying commentary in the margins. Much to my surprise, my job as a page flipper was forcing me to pay attention to the content, structure and history of the liturgy like never before. Notwithstanding my atheists flippancy, this page flipper was actually learning (and I dare say, enjoying) the service.

The chanting, singing, preaching and reading progressed inexorably. I kept pace, rising to flip, sitting to read, rising to flip, etc. Gradually, I stopped grousing about my predicament and started to get into it. It was the perfect therapy for this skeptical curmudgeon as it forced me to attend, rather than to disengage. 

Here are some Rosh Hashanah confessions:

1. As is appropriate this time of year, my role in the service subordinated personal pleasure-seeking in favour of service to the community. My job was a mini-Tzedaka  — to help others, rather than indulging myself.
2. While I was on the Bima and in full sight of 700 people, my job was to be invisible. I was on centre stage, but purposefully anonymous. My job was to support the Rabbi, to follow closely, but not to lead. It’s just like the old adage  –  ‘just because you’re in the front car of the roller coaster don’t think that you’re steering’.
3. It wasn’t lost on me that my birthday was in a few days. The numerals on flip-chart brought to mind the analogy to years. One after another, the chart numbers flip. Time passes, the service progresses. There is no stopping the page progression or the year, the only thing we can do is to track it.
4. Tracking the position Machzor page in the services isn’t only for your own benefit. In fact it is mainly for the benefit of the congregation. Similarly monitoring and marking one’s years isn’t just for you – it is for the benefit of your family and your community. The community wants and needs to know what page you are on in your life!
5. Little by little, as the liturgy progressed, key milestones were reached. The end of the Shakarit portion, the Torah reading. The sounding of the Shofar. The Musaf service. The Kiddush.  Just as our lives have their major milestones, each in their proper order, each as holy and as meaningful as we want to make it.

So, at the risk of invalidating my atheist credentials, I have to admit that I enjoyed and was engrossed in this year’s day-one Rosh Hashanah services more than any that I can remember.

Day 2

The next morning (day 2 of the Narayever’s Rosh Hashana services), I again sat down with Perla in our usual section of the gym. Once comfortable, I slipped my eReader out of my Tallit Zekel, and slyly inserted it into the Machzor ready to finally indulge in a little irreverent reading. Just as I turned the device on, I heard a whisper in my ear, it was the Shamash! – “Ron, can you fill in as page flipper again?”.

But this time, I had no qualms – “Yes, with Pleasure!”, I said.