Prayer versus Production

Any choir that sings for a religious organization is challenged to create a prayerful atmosphere without putting on a performance. I hadn’t realized just how sensitive our rabbi was to this concept until this morning when he literally exploded over something that I had facilitated in my role of chairing the High Holy Days for our synagogue.

We hold our services in a very large, very old stone church with three times the capacity of Temple Micah. We have struggled for the past few years with the antiquated sound system that comes with the Methodist Church, being plagued by a buzzing speaker in one of the chandelier lights, feedback, and dead spaces where no one can hear anything.

Largely as a stroke of luck, I was offered an $8,000 sound system using state-of-the-art components at no charge for our Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services. After our choir rehearsal with this sound system in the old church, we realized just how good the choir could sound and how it was no longer necessary for our cantorial soloist to strain her voice.

Last night’s service seemed to go off without a hitch. Everyone I talked to in the congregation marveled at the fact that they could finally hear everything and it was all in balance. I felt like this improvement was my legacy to the High Holy Day process as I near the end of my term as chair.

But then as we were in the middle of our rehearsal before the morning service today, the rabbi came in and simply exploded. He didn’t like the look of the speakers on stands. He didn’t like the monitor on the altar that allowed him and the staff to hear themselves properly. He didn’t like the fact that the music now seemed like a production. He didn’t like their “rock-star” microphones. And, perhaps most importantly, he didn’t like the fact that no one had told him about it ahead of time.

I could feel my ego deflating about as fast as a helium balloon with a sudden leak. Did he have any idea how hard I had worked to make this happen? Did he realize that no one in the back section of the Church had ever before been able to hear? Had he checked with anyone in the audience to see how they felt about the new and improved sound? Did he understand that my motive was simply one of wanting everyone to be able to concentrate on praying instead of on listening?

The choir is better than ever this year. We are so much enjoying the fact that we finally can hear each other and the room sounds so alive. It makes such a difference. But we still have a lot of musical ground left to cover.

I don’t know how this is going to be resolved. No one is blaming me for this problem, but I was certainly part of the small group that made it happen.

As for the prayer versus production issue, to me what seems important is not the music itself but rather the spirit in which it is presented. Some people would have definitely classified our big number this morning that included piano and clarinet as a production, but in actuality it was just “making a joyful noise.”

The Temple Micah staff will meet this week in at attempt to dissect this problem and construct a workable solution. Hopefully it will still result in a sound system which allows everyone to hear. But despite my role in the changes this year, it’s no longer my problem.

I knew things were going entirely too smoothly. But if there is one thing Jews are good at, it’s dealing with problems. So I’m guardedly optimistic.

Shana tova!