Like Listening Through A Time Machine

This past Shabbos, the Wolfish family attended a Bar Mitzvah.  It was a very nice simcha and we had a good time.  Going to a different shul for shabbos actually gave me an rare opportunity to listen to someone else lain the entire parsha. 

The ba'al kriah at the shul we went to was a fifteen year old kid (the bar mitzvah boy didn't lain the parsha).  He had poise and wasn't afraid to be loud enough to be heard -- a common failing of young ba'alei kriah.  One thing he didn't have going for him, however, was experience. 

As a ba'al kriah, I've often found that the hardest portions to lain were those that had repeating passages, but with minor variations in each iteration.  For example, consider the Nesi'im in Parshas Naso.  There, the same set of verses is lained over 12 times, with the only changes being the names of the tribes and the leaders.  Otherwise, they're all identical* in terms of wording and trup.  That makes it fairly easy for a ba'al kirah. 

However, in Pinchas, there are two sets of parshiyos where there are multiple iterations of a similar theme, but with enough difference between each iteration that, if you're not very careful, you can easily get mixed up.  That, sadly, is what happened to this ba'al kriah this past Shabbos.  He made a fair number of mistakes that would likely not have been made in a straight narrative portion.

As he was struggling his way through the parsha, I understood very well what he was going through.  After all, I was him twenty-five years ago.  When I was his age, I made the very same types of mistakes.  I had similarly disastrous readings.  So, I knew very well what he was going through.  Listening to him was, in some ways, kind of like listening to myself lain many years ago.

Of course, over the years, I've gotten somewhat better at laining.  Thank God, I no longer have weeks like he did.  That's not to say that I never make mistakes -- of course I do -- but I haven't made as many as he did in one week in a loooong time.

After davening, I took some time to talk to the kid.  I told him that I thought he did pretty well but that he could clearly use some improvement.  But I also told him that I'm fairly good at it now and that, at one time, I was at his level of skill (and had weeks like he just had) and that, with hard work, perseverance and experience, he would get much, much better.  I think the kid has a future in the field.

The Wolf

* Yes, I'm aware the first two are *slightly* different.

Cantillational Drift

It's funny the things that you think of when you're laining.

On Simchas Torah, while reading the Torah, I began to wonder if the tune that I'm using is really the same tune that was used a thousand years ago (or longer). Or does the cantillation "drift" with time?

Language, as we all know, suffers from this drifting effect. No only do expressions, idioms and the meanings of words change, but also the pronounciation of those words change over time (and place). Words that are pronounced one way today were very often pronounced differently at other times. (For some excellent examples of this, read Bill Bryson's book "The Mother Tongue.")

That being said, I'm almost certain that the tune that is used for Krias haTorah has changed over the years (and miles) as well. I'm very curious as to how it must have sounded a thousand years ago.

Anyone have any ideas?

The Wolf

UPDATE: Mississippi Fred MacDowell provided some interesting info on this question here. Thanks MFM!

Weddings, Shuls, Eichah and Fire Lieutenants

Just a couple of random points:

First a Mazel Tov

Eeees and I know a woman who is an older single. She's sweet, intelligent and, in general, a very fine person and yet, for whatever reason, she simply did not find her bashert. Eeees and I (and countless others) searched high and low for this elusive Mr. Right, but alas, we were not successful. A few months ago, I even offered her the services of this blog. However, she informed me that she was actually seeing someone and that the situation looked promising. That promise has since come to fruition and the wedding is scheduled for tonight. So Mazel Tov to the Morah and the soon-to-be Mr. Morah! I will, God willing, be at the wedding tonight, dressed in my favorite smiley tie in celebration of the new couple. If you see me, give me a tap on the snout and come over and say hello!

The Lost Shuls Of Brooklyn

Neandershort has a piece on the former shuls of Brooklyn that have since been converted to churches of various denominations. While it is tragic to see former shuls that have been converted to churches (I used to live next door to the Young Israel of Bayswater many a moon ago. The building is now a Witness hall), I'm not sure what is to be done about it. You can't force people to stay in a neighborhood. Demographics switch all the time in response to various economic, technologic and social changes. As Jewish people move out of a neighborhood, Jewish shuls will close (to be replaced by new shuls in the neighborhoods they are moving to). I suppose that once it becomes necessary to sell the building that it would be preferable if it were sold to a non-religious institution... but, for all practical purposes, the economics of the situation will usually dicatate that it is a church that buys the building.

If it's of any comfort, the process works the other way too. I spent sixteen years laining in a shul that very clearly was once a church-- right down to the remains of the pipe organ behind the aron kodesh.

Laining Eichah

In my former shul, I lained Eichah (Lamentaions) on the night of Tisha B'Av. In my present shul, I don't (not by choice... there is someone else who has been doing it since before I arrived). If you're going to lain Eichah (or anything else, for that matter), please, please pay attention to the trup (cantillation). It some cases it can prevent you from making a grave mistake. Consider this verse (Eichah 2:20)

כ רְאֵה יְהוָה וְהַבִּיטָה, לְמִי עוֹלַלְתָּ כֹּה: אִם-תֹּאכַלְנָה נָשִׁים פִּרְיָם עֹלְלֵי טִפֻּחִים, אִם-יֵהָרֵג בְּמִקְדַּשׁ אֲדֹנָי כֹּהֵן וְנָבִיא. {ס} 20 'See, O LORD, and consider, to whom Thou hast done thus! Shall the women eat their fruit, the children that are dandled in the hands? Shall the priest and the prophet be slain in the sanctuary of the Lord?

The way the verse is supposed to be read, the words בְּמִקְדַּשׁ אֲדֹנָי must be read together. God's name here is not a noun, but an adjective - it is describing the Mikdash (Temple) as a Temple of God. However, if you pause between the word Mikdash and God's name, the verse takes on a completely different meaning. With a pause in the wrong place, it makes it sound like God (along with the kohen and the prophet) were slain in the Mikdash! So, please, be mindful of the trup!

Fire Lieutenants

Our last bit today is a story (brought to my attention by an anonymous reader) about a new lieutenant in the Pikesville (MD) Volunteer Fire Company. What makes it remarkable is that the lieutenant is an Orthodox woman. Of course, there are the naysayers who start screaming "Busha" (shame) and "Kol K'vuda..." and "she should be home making dinner..." To all these people, I have one thing to say: She's putting her skin on the line to save people's lives. If you're willing to take her place and do it, then go volunteer and get the necessary training. Otherwise, shut up and be thankful that someone is willing to run into a burning inferno to save your life and the lives of your family. Or will you be screaming "Busha" at her as she pulls your sorry butt out of the proverbial frying pan?

The Wolf