Bored of Yom Kippur – Judge-Ment-All
Posted: October 6, 2011 | Author: boredofdeputies | | Tags: Day of Judgement, high holiday days, synagogue, Yom Kippur |2 Comments »
By Bored of Deputies
The Bored are in our element. Many people see this time of year as a chance for introspection and reflection, others seek forgiveness and to purge themselves of ill deeds to their friends, family and Lord. These are all worthy pursuits but none are as important as judgement. Rosh Hashanah is also called Yom Hadin, the Day of Judgement and we at the Bored take this very seriously.
Now, some “Rabbis” will tell you that this judgement is made by G-d on our conduct over the year to decide into which book we will be scribed and whether we survive the year ahead. Rubbish! The Judgement is made by our peers on our conduct (and attire) in synagogue over 3 days to decide which social group we are a part of and which weddings we’ll be invited to in the year ahead.
Even if previously the “G-d” interpretation was more popular, the Bored wish to make religion accessible to the UK Jewish mainstream, so it is critical that we can take an active role in the judgement process.
To help you critique your fellow Jew, here is a preview of our helpful pamphlet on the characters to observe in shul on Yom Kippur or those you might have met over Rosh Hashanah:
The Con-seat-ed Sitter is a clever soul; he will sit in view of many and regularly flick ahead in his machzor. By knowing when one should stand and sit, as soon as the Ark closes his bum hits the chair and a smug smile is plastered across his face while the community remain standing in the knowledge the aron will re-open in two sentences. The Con-seat-ed sitter doesn’t mind the work-out, he just craves the curious attention of his neighbours and the view of a row of bottoms at eye-level.
The Honoured Officer: Each year amongst the retired wardens bussed in to oversee matters a Rookie will emerge, for whom the opportunity to address the community is more joyful novelty than dull duty. The honoured officer will grin as they execute the most mundane tasks in the book, opening the ark, finding the A6 card with the call-up’s Hebrew name on it and as we will learn below announcing page numbers. Their zest for all things Synagoug-al makes them ripe for judgement.
The Page Police: The High Holy Days offer a plethora of prayers books some hot of the press others old enough to give the Magna Carta a run for its money. The plurality of reading material is not a problem until it comes to the page announcements. Our honoured officer, beaming, announces the 14 different pages number while the Page Police wait like a coiled spring mentally ticking off each page number like an 80 year-old Bingo pro. Finally, they pounce “You forgot the Soncino!”, “What about the Markleberg 4th Edition in Russian?” and the most degrading “Routledge!!!!” The flummoxed Honoured Officer looks to his experienced colleagues who vigorously avoid eye contact, before the Good Cop (to the shouter’s Bad) offer a token “page 1065” and normal service resumes.
The Page Pre-empter: is ever-present, thumbing his machzor, checking the clock, anxiously awaiting the question “how long left?” They then springs into action, instantly delivering the number of pages remaining, then halving the number to account for translations before offering added insight of last year’s finishing time and which prayers are being omitted.
The Tokeah Timekeeper: as the final shofar note sounds, somewhere in the hall or marquee you will find a time keeper. As the Tokeah-Gedola note is called, they smoothly reveal their wristwatch and then studious count the seconds for which the blast louds. At its termination they will sagely nod or make an impressed pout to demonstrate the skill of the shofar blower. It’s not just the ba’al tokea that blows.
The Playground Shepherd: After 15 rounds of “dip the apple in the honey” the children’s service concludes with the adults still deep in prayer. Thus the children flee to the car park, the upstairs corridor and the fire exits and the noise level creeps steadily up until those adult who have finished their amidah exchange glares. A Shepherd (usually a slightly dishevelled, angry looking, rejected-children-service-leader-volunteer) is dispatched to round up the flock. This Biblical analogy ceases when shepherd tries manfully and angrily to corral the youngsters only to find himself creating more noise as their squeal with delight at his bumbling attempts. Too embarrassed to return to his seat with the racket still in full swing, he chats casually to the caretaker before a second half-hearted attempt and then finds his own child and meats out corporal punishment upon them.
The Bored wish you a caffeine-headache-free Yom Kippur.
Next we we’ll be back on secular matters like 90% of UK Jewry… don’t forget to follow @boredofdeputies on twitter for daily reporting.