Monday, December 28, 2020

You Don't Need a Synagogue (or Church, Mosque, or Temple) to Pray, But It Helps

There are a lot of one-sided conversations happening in the news and on social media. Everything seems one-sided nowadays. Most recently, a discussion has centred around houses of worship after churches and synagogues in the US and Canada have sued to be allowed to hold services in person. 

In Toronto, the only Conservative synagogue holding an in person minyan is Adath Israel. Sean attends almost daily. I attend a few times a week. All distancing regulations are observed. The sanctuary seats 1100, not including the bima. We are ten people spaced throughout the room. We provide a minyan base to be streamed to others. 

As a rabbi, I am thrilled that so many have found a home in live-streamed and meeting app minyanim. I regularly speak with with people for whom it is meaningful. One woman saying Kaddish joins her nephew at his shul in the US. Another enjoys attending minyan online because she couldn't fit it into her day of dropping kids at school and heading to work. With everyone home, she's able to simply log-in. Another man thought he'd never be a daily mainyan attendee while reciting Kaddish, but has found great comfort in joining everyday, where he sees his father and others on the same mourning journey.

As a Jew in the pews, online minyan depresses me. I'm okay, even ecstatic at helping others find their prayer space, but when I'm seeking my own, I can't get comfortable. I am distracted, frustrated, and lonely. Online minyan emphasizes my solitude in a way neither social distancing nor praying on my own can. After closing out Mom's house I returned home to quarantine and online minyan. Nothing made me feel more separate than reciting Kaddish alone in my room unable to see others except through the screen. Maybe it was the added layer of quarantine that finally broke online minyan for me, but I couldn't go back after that. It depressed me, making me feel numb. Kaddish, previously healing became a painful endeavour. After about a month I realized something had to change. I needed a minyan to help pull me out of that dark space.

When individuals post or write articles pitting religion on one side against caring about controlling covid on the other, they create a syllogism asserting that those who want fairness in the application of laws or feel a need to pray in the presence of others do not also care about preventing the spread of covid. 

Control of covid is not a simple matter. If it was, we would have done it already. But if one examines the affects wrought by closures in different areas, one thing is clear - it comes down to the responsible actions of individuals. To pray, with masks and social distancing, without singing, but in the same room, in synagogue, church, mosque, or temple when all protocols are observed dies not increase viral transference. Those who don't care are gathering anyway. I see it in the small minyanim exiting homes in groups without masks. I wonder if they even keep records of who attends for contact tracing. Ten people in a very large room is not the same as ten in a small space. Square footage matters. 

It's not only prayer. It's being able to see another person without a screen, even from six or more feet away. It's letting people know they won't lose their livelihood, their house, or their ability to put food on the table. It helps to create one rule that is clear for all. Use square footage. Figure out how to give people hope instead of just pulling it away.

Covid will be around for a long time to come. We cannot begin to know what the new strains will bring to us. The vaccine may let us see the end of the tunnel, but doesn't tell us how long the tunnel will be. In the meantime, we all need an outlet to make sure that, when we reach the tunnel's end, we're still okay.

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