Adina Roth – Head of Jewish Life

Pray like no one is watching, a Tefilah tale

Shalom Emanuel community,

Today, I would like to veer away from the Parsha and share a somewhat non-edifying moment that happened to me in Tefillah this week.

Every Monday morning, there is Tefilah in the High School. Teachers work with Year 12 Tefilah Leaders and we have introduced guitars and drums and a range of new tunes so as to develop a feeling of vibe, soul and ruach. This past week, the Year 12s were writing exams and so yours truly found herself, on a Monday morning, as the lead singer of the Tefilah. The only issue is that I had not pre-checked the keys of the musical chords to see whether they matched my voice.

We began the daily prayers with the gratitude of Modah Ani and I found my usual comfortable Alto being forced into a Soprano range that was a little beyond my skills at 8.00 am Monday morning. I cried out thank you to God with a squeak and a shrill. And so it rolled from one prayer to the next, until when it came to the Shema, I wasn’t sure if I was in Emanuel School Tefilah or the Sydney Opera House. Now, I am exaggerating a little but I think some of the students heard my Soprano strain and found it a little funny because I heard a few squeaks as they joined the song. My younger teenage self would have been mortified at the embarrassment of being forced to sing in such a high range and at the giggles of the kids.

However, one of the things that comes along with age is I don’t care so much. That self-consciousness thing is so 2005…for me! Self-consciousness is something that teenagers struggle with acutely. It’s understandable, as acceptance in the social group feels like everything. As such their every move feels like it needs to be ‘just right’ and they can’t be seen to be doing anything that might be seen as embarrassing. This is one of the reasons why Tefilah is tricky in High Schools. Students don’t want to show that they care too much. To close their eyes and shokkel (sway from side to side in spiritual concentration) could lead to their being publicly canceled on Tik Tok. Even to sing too loudly or show devotion, or to stand out in any way, is a lot to ask from students who just want to fit in. The question is, how do we give students a half-hour where they can somehow be released from those shackles of self-consciousness, forget the crippling cringe and connect with something bigger than themselves in song and meditation.

Back to the story: Eventually we got up to do the Amidah (silent, devotional prayer), and we put the musical instruments away. I was able to sing in a more comfortable key and all the students turned away from each other and faced north. Suddenly, no one was looking at anyone else. We came to a song that required a call and response. I called out ‘l’dor ve’dor’ and the students response was instantaneous, unanimous and loud, ‘l’dor v’dor’ they called. I sang again ‘l’dor v’dor’ and they called it back. The song continued. It was heartwarming to sing in this way. The students were singing loud and strong. ‘Ledor v’dor’ means from one generation to another and in that moment, I connected to why we do prayer in schools, even though it isn’t always easy. Jewish prayer takes us back in time to our ancestors who have been reciting these same sacred words for more than 2000 years. It also propels us forward to the future as we hand these words and practices to a new generation, all of whom we charge to carry these prayers forward in their own voice. 

I left Tefilah and wondered to myself if perhaps my being willing to ‘go high’ and embarrass myself a little could send a message to my students that nothing has to matter so much. ‘Let go and have fun’. They may not be able to implement this right away in the years of cringe and acute self consciousness. But perhaps one day they might be able to open their mouths and sing like only God is watching.

Shabbat Shalom