Shul Etiquette

I received the following email. I think especially before YomTov it is a great reminder:

“An Open Letter To My Neighbour in Shul”

My Dear Chaver,

Please excuse me for not signing this letter. Were I to do so, everyone in shul would know that this letter is being written to you, and I do not want to cause you public disgrace.

I have known you for many years and I value our relationship. Hopefully, you feel the same towards me. Your commitment to Limud Torah and your unrestrained gemilas chesed are truly enviable. In fact, I had even hoped that by sitting next to you in shul some of your midos would rub off on me.

But one thing that disturbs me greatly is your talking during davening. At first, it was barely more than a word or two to amplify a facial expression. But now, you begin conversation almost as soon as you come into shul.

I am not calling this to your attention, now, to give you tochacha (reproof). Certainly, my own slate is not nearly clean enough to make a reckoning for you. But I just want to let you know how your talking in shul is affecting me.

First and foremost is Shmoneh Esrei. You probably assume that I am very well off financially, and in other ways, too. But I have some very pressing personal problems, which even my best friends know nothing about. Now, considering my pekle, I don’t stand Shmoneh Esrei nearly as long as I should, but somehow you always seem to finish ahead of me. I realize that you are trying to talk quietly, but since you’re standing right next to me, it disrupts my entire kavonah (concentration). Sometimes, I get so angry with you that I feel like blurting out in the middle of my Shmoneh Esrei, “Why don’t you just go outside to talk? I can’t walk out now; but you can!” And who knows if my tefillos are not being answered because of inadequate kavonah? Of course, I am not blaming you for my tzoris, but since Shmoneh Esrei is my chance to plead for some mercy, I would appreciate it if you would conduct the conversation outside, and then come in for Kedusha.

Next is Chazoras Hashatz, when the chazan repeats the Shmoneh Esrei. Even though I am aware of the bountiful reward to be earned with each omein, I am, unfortunately, far too lax in responding properly. Nevertheless, when I hardly hear the chazan above your schmoozing, I end up losing out on even more omein opportunities.

Now, you might argue and say that you are talking to the man on the other side and not with me. yes, that is true. But I also have an inclination to schmooze in shul. When I see you practically smacking your lips over a delicious interchange, I am tempted to join you. Sometimes, I tell myself that I will only listen to your conversation. Than I find myself an accomplice, by encouraging you with my interest. At other times, however, I even find myself sucked into actively participating in the conversation, which I had promised myself only to overhear.

The krias haTorah is difficult enough to follow, with the inevitable noise of foot shuffling, coughing, and (in the summer) air conditioner blowing. But when that combines with your conversation, I go home each Shabbos wondering whether or not I have been yotzei krias haTorah.

Finally, I must say that our shul is a very special one. We have some excellent shiurim, a highly respected Rabbi, and a minyan full of bnei Torah. In general, there is a fairly good decorum in our shul, compared with many others. So I suppose I could just change my seat. But at this point, it would be too awkward to explain without embarrassing you or myself.

Our shul, in many ways, is truly a mikdash me’at – a sanctuary in miniature. But whenever I am about to reach the full appreciation of that, especially on Shabbos, your talking cools me off.

The other day, you asked me why I don’t bring my five year old son to shul more often. I told you that he’s still too young. Now I’ll tell you the real reason. He still feels kedushas beis hamedrash – the sanctity of the place – when he walks in. Even after davening, he whispers in shul. If I bring him every week and sit him down between us, I am frankly afraid of your example. How can he retain his reverence for shul if he observes your behaviour? Each Shabbos he begs me to take him along and I’m running out of excuses.

You don’t owe me any respect. And you may feel that my kavonah does not take precedence to you socializing. But think of our children in shul. What will become of their davening? I see you are already having trouble controlling some of your children in shul. Whenever you are not schmoozing with a friend, you are reprimanding your children. Yes, their conduct is reprehensible, at times; but where do you think they learned to be callous towards kedushas beis hamedrash?

In writing this letter, I have tried to avoid giving away my own identity or that of our shul. If others read this letter, however, they may waste time trying to figure out whom this letter was meant for. But you know. Wishing you and your family all the best.

Name and City Withheld by request

The latter complaint of yours does, indeed, border on Halachah. But the others are in the “Fifth”. Anyone who displays “Yiras Shomaim” without considering his surrounding “Neighbors” is an Am Haaretz. AS it says in “Pirkei Avos”, that an ignoramus (Am Ha Aretz) can not pretend to be a “Chassid”. While he is pretending to be “Super Observant”, he is causing more harm than good.

I Agree with you till this point …. A SHUL IS MEANT TO DAVEN IN yes and people that come to shul and mumble to themselves the davening! that’s not the proper way of tefillah. PSDZ till shema and tefillah is supposed to be BEKOL ROM. If it bothers you that means you are not davening. Se haist nisht gedavent

WolfishMusings,

I complained about this three months ago here on these forums and one poster basically told me (in essence) to stop complaining because the person disturbing me by davening loudly was right and I was wrong.

I read that thread with interest, but I don’t remember seeing a post that told you to stop complaining.

Out of 40 posts on that thread, I counted only four – from only two authors – that outright disagreed with you. The other 90% of the posts either agreed with you, indirectly complimented you through worries that you were leaving the CR due to the thread title or not singing in shul anymore, or were neutral (I’m including posts from authors trying to see both sides of the issue as neutral).

Of the disagreements, there was a total misunderstanding between you and Moderator80, which to me didn’t seem to result from a true disagreement on what you posted, but out of defensiveness and jumping to conclusions (on both sides). That leaves essentially only one author who disagreed with you to the end.

What I did notice was that any whiff of disagreement with your post – such as mentioning a value in reciting pesukim loudly during parts of davening – prompted an immediate response of (e.g.,):

So, is it your contention that I was wrong to be so upset?

Nobody wrote back and said yes.

So why, with a disapproval rating of (not even) 10% on your thread, do you feel persecuted?

I agree with the posters above who rightly note that davening is supposed to be loud.

I agree with the pacing part pacing by others always unnerves me, in the Yeshiva where i work the bochrim are constantly pacing while talking on their cell phones having someone pace in front of you is very distracting.

Avram, I agree with your distinction.

I Agree with you till this point …. A SHUL IS MEANT TO DAVEN IN yes and people that come to shul and mumble to themselves the davening! that’s not the proper way of tefillah. PSDZ till shema and tefillah is supposed to be BEKOL ROM. If it bothers you that means you are not davening. Se haist nisht gedavent

Jewish Source, can you please tell me where it says this? What is the actual inside source?

An interesting thing happened in shul this morning. Since there was yizkor, there were a lot of people who aren’t regulars.

My shul has nice little booklets with the kriahs for Pesach so we don’t have to go searching through the chumashim. I had my booklet sitting on the table in front of me, next to my key and my glasses. I had finished shemoneh esrei and was standing back waiting for kedushah to take my three steps forward when one of the women in the row in front of me turned around and took my kriah booklet.

I’m assuming she didn’t realize I was intending to use it, although I’m not sure what she thought I would use.

I didn’t say anything (even after it was permissible to talk), and I certainly forgave her, but it was weird.