B’shalach, Exodus 13:17–17:16
Shabbat Shirah
Shabbat Shirah
Sing, Sing a Song!
Marci N. Bellows
So, you know how there are tons of melodies for Adon Olam? You may never have thought about it before, but there are many out there. Yes, each congregation may default to one or another, but the words to Adon Olam can be fit into many modern tunes. As rabbinical students in Jerusalem, we used to do a sing-down game where two teams would compete to see how many melodies to Adon Olam we could come up with. (Yes, this is what we did for fun). My favorite has always been “Rock Around the Clock.” Go ahead, take a moment and give it a try.
I love Jewish and liturgical music. I don’t mean any disrespect to my fellow rabbis out there, but the music has always served as a much more spiritual component of the service for me than the spoken word. The right melody—a favorite Janowski, Lewandowski, Richards, Isaacson, Friedman, or Klepper—especially one that evokes a particular memory or moment, feels like it opens the heavens and communicates with the Divine in a deep, meaningful manner. It’s hard for me to stand still during some of my favorites – I just have to tap my foot or clap my hands or even do the special hand motions that I had learned at camp or in youth group. This is, naturally, a bit challenging when I’m in the role of “serious rabbi on the bimah,” but that’s just the nature of the job, I suppose.
One of my most treasured memories of my years at URJ’s Olin-Sang Ruby Union Institute (OSRUI) camp was the weekly “Shabbat shirah.” After Shabbat dinner and services, we’d all head over to Port Hall, still dressed in our Shabbat finery. Once there, all of the camp’s song-leaders would gather in the center of the room, and campers of all ages would arrange themselves in concentric circles around the room’s perimeter. The song-leaders would start with peppy, upbeat songs that encouraged us to boogie a bit and sing along in harmonies and call-and-answer routines. Then, eventually, they would transition to slower songs, and the lights would magically begin to dim. (I never did find out whose job it was to do that.) Shechinah most certainly dwelled there with us, floating on the precious melodies that emanated from our lips. There was an ineffable magic to the songs, and we could all feel its power to transform. In those moments, I knew that I had to always have access to Jewish music in my life.
As I learned more and more about Jewish text over the years, I loved that this week’s Torah portion, B’shalach, contained Shirat HaYam, the "Song of the Sea" (Exodus 15:1?21). This song, written in a special format in every single Torah (reminiscent of waves of water), was sung by Moses as our ancestors took their first steps of freedom on the other side of the Sea of Reeds. In fact, the song is so central to the portion that the entire Shabbat has a special name: Shabbat Shirah, just like our wonderful weekly experiences at OSRUI!
It fascinates me that this song is treasured so greatly by our tradition – we are even taught to stand when it is read during worship. The centrality of music in Judaism, and further proof of its import, is reinforced when Miriam leads the women in her own song, timbrel in hand (Exodus 15:20?21). These prophets could have merely given a big speech, orating grandly to the newly freed Israelites. But, no – instead, they sing songs, creating poetic verses infused with joy, exaltation, and praise. This validates our own desire to express emotions during ritual moments through music.
No comments:
Post a Comment