Happy 5772!

[21]

Seriously, how can they even call that a holiday. Yom Kippur is not a holiday. Holidays have balloons and presents and songs (that are not about desperate sins and devastation and death, notwithstanding thanksgiving, of course), and cookies. Seems like an incredible insult to the other holidays to include a day devoted to apologizing for enjoying all the other holidays. (pounds on heart a few extra times for good measure.)

 

[The Big Ragu]

The aspect of Yom Kippur that I find most wild. It's supposed to be the most holy day for Jews. Atonement and all that. No electricity, no driving, no TV or entertainment. Just fasting and reflection. You can't handle money. You're technically not even supposed to tear toilet paper if you play by the letter of the law.

Except integrated into the service is the Rabbi sermon, which is supposed to be inspirational, but is always mind-numbingly simplistic and dull, and given at a time when the fasting masses are most cranky. And it is usually followed by the president of the Congregation getting up and asking for money, at which point they pass out the envelopes in which you are expected to fold down the tab with the dollar amount of how much you are going to fork over.

I totally get it. It's the one day everyone actually shows up, so it makes sense to hit people up for money. But it just seems so at odds with what the holiday (sorry 21) is supposed to be about.

 

[Webster]

The aspect of Yom Kippur that I find most wild. It's supposed to be the most holy day for Jews. Atonement and all that. No electricity, no driving, no TV or entertainment. Just fasting and reflection. You can't handle money. You're technically not even supposed to tear toilet paper if you play by the letter of the law.

Except integrated into the service is the Rabbi sermon, which is supposed to be inspirational, but is always mind-numbingly simplistic and dull, and given at a time when the fasting masses are most cranky. And it is usually followed by the president of the Congregation getting up and asking for money, at which point they pass out the envelopes in which you are expected to fold down the tab with the dollar amount of how much you are going to fork over.

I totally get it. It's the one day everyone actually shows up, so it makes sense to hit people up for money. But it just seems so at odds with what the holiday (sorry 21) is supposed to be about.

Ragu -- not true for my Temple. The rabbi is an amazing speaker and his high holiday sermons were pretty thought provoking. He is basically the only reason why I sporadically attend Friday night services.

And luckily, my congregation is doing OK (for now), so they haven't asked for money on the high holidays in the 5 years that I've belonged.

But fasting sucks.

 

[Dyno]

I'll second what Webster said. The last two shuls I've gone to have had great rabbis and no appeals for cash. Nice all around.

 

[21]

My place puts the donation tabs right on the ticket, from $100 to $50k. Not kidding. I base my donation on the president's speech, if he or she makes eye contact and it's entertaining and makes me laugh at least one, I'm in. The dullards reading off a notecard, zip. Plenty of other ways I can donate to the cause.

But to Ragu's point, I was raised strict conservative: no driving on the holiday, no writing, no telephones. Yet in keeping with the true chinese menu of the faith ('I'll take this and this but not that, okay, some of that but not so much of this...') we'd sneak into my grandmother's shul because my parents refused to spend money on something they could get for free. We also kept kosher, but with a set of plates for shrimp and/or anything with accidental bacon bits.

 

[Birdscribe]

The aspect of Yom Kippur that I find most wild. It's supposed to be the most holy day for Jews. Atonement and all that. No electricity, no driving, no TV or entertainment. Just fasting and reflection. You can't handle money. You're technically not even supposed to tear toilet paper if you play by the letter of the law.

Except integrated into the service is the Rabbi sermon, which is supposed to be inspirational, but is always mind-numbingly simplistic and dull, and given at a time when the fasting masses are most cranky. And it is usually followed by the president of the Congregation getting up and asking for money, at which point they pass out the envelopes in which you are expected to fold down the tab with the dollar amount of how much you are going to fork over.

I totally get it. It's the one day everyone actually shows up, so it makes sense to hit people up for money. But it just seems so at odds with what the holiday (sorry 21) is supposed to be about.

This is dead-on nails. It's also the reason why I've let my temple membership lapse and why my 97-year-old father is doing the same -- at a temple he's been a member at for nearly 60 years and a temple he and my late mother used to run the youth group.

I'll never forget one Yom Kippur sermon from our longtime rabbi. It was basically taken from the Book of Gambino, which I didn't realize was a part of the Old Testament.

It was a brazen shakedown and demand for everyone to donate more money this next year. My outspoken aunt was so irate that at our break-the-fast, she nearly broke dishes and wouldn't stop talking about how inappropriate this was.

This also neatly explains why this MOT is lapsed, because that's what my recent experiences with a wonderfully warm and inclusive religion have become -- nothing more than a constant money grab.

 

[heyabbott]

The aspect of Yom Kippur that I find most wild. It's supposed to be the most holy day for Jews. Atonement and all that. No electricity, no driving, no TV or entertainment. Just fasting and reflection. You can't handle money. You're technically not even supposed to tear toilet paper if you play by the letter of the law.

Except integrated into the service is the Rabbi sermon, which is supposed to be inspirational, but is always mind-numbingly simplistic and dull, and given at a time when the fasting masses are most cranky. And it is usually followed by the president of the Congregation getting up and asking for money, at which point they pass out the envelopes in which you are expected to fold down the tab with the dollar amount of how much you are going to fork over.

I totally get it. It's the one day everyone actually shows up, so it makes sense to hit people up for money. But it just seems so at odds with what the holiday (sorry 21) is supposed to be about.

This is dead-on nails. It's also the reason why I've let my temple membership lapse and why my 97-year-old father is doing the same -- at a temple he's been a member at for nearly 60 years and a temple he and my late mother used to run the youth group.

I'll never forget one Yom Kippur sermon from our longtime rabbi. It was basically taken from the Book of Gambino, which I didn't realize was a part of the Old Testament.

It was a brazen shakedown and demand for everyone to donate more money this next year. My outspoken aunt was so irate that at our break-the-fast, she nearly broke dishes and wouldn't stop talking about how inappropriate this was.

This also nealty explains why this MOT is lapsed, because that's what my recent experiences with a wonderfully warm and inclusive religion have become -- nothing more than a constant money grab.

My experience differs a bit, there was always an overt asking for money but the sermons were always about the same thing: "They're going to destroy Israel and they are coming for the Jews which means you."

 

[waterytart]

I'll second what Webster said. The last two shuls I've gone to have had great rabbis and no appeals for cash. Nice all around.

Same and same.

 

[21]

"They're going to destroy Israel and they are coming for the Jews which means you."

Same and same.

 

[The Big Ragu]

"They're going to destroy Israel and they are coming for the Jews which means you."

Same and same.

Well, I haven't been in a synagogue in years. But that's my experience too, from what I remember when I was younger. The sermon always played to the audience, and as such, anything blindly pro Israel and anything that fed the audience's persecution complex was a staple. The artful rabbi could cloak it in a Torah story and wrapped it all up with a simplistic message about being a good person.