Last Shabbos I davened at a small minyan with about 15 men. I sat in the back. Right before shevi'i the Gabbai approached me and offered me an aliya. After the aliya, without even turning to me, he launched into a mi she'beirach in which he declared on my behalf that I would, bli neder, give a matanah. He then shook my hand vigorously.
After I returned to my seat he came by and dropped off a pre-addressed envelope.
I have long been unhappy with the common practice to sell kibudim, even though, unfortunately, many shuls might not receive the support they need any other way. Regardless, if a shul expects payment for an aliya, they should certainly be up front about it before offering one to a newcomer, and if they aren't up front about it, they should first receive his consent before making even a bli neder declaration about his intention to make a donation.
Needless to say, I was put off by the Gabbai's behavior, and I went back and forth in my mind if I should be a good sport and make a token donation or take the strict approach. Ultimately I decided that if after davening someone (preferably the Gabbai) would welcome me more informally I would reciprocate the gesture, otherwise not.
Well, no one said a word to me after davening. They filed out with nary a glance in my direction, let alone any words of welcome. The Gabbai made sure that I would feel a responsibility to give money and have an easy time doing so, but made not the slightest effort to make me feel wanted for anything more than my donation. I contemplated sending a token donation with a note expressing my feelings, but didn't care to dedicate the time and effort.
The envelope was deposited in a trash bin on the way home.
Speaking of the journey home, it was a 15 minute walk through two Jerusalem neighborhoods with a park in between. Along the way I passed Jews of many ages, shapes, and sizes. Some walked alone, some with a spouse, some with friends, some with children. Not a single person wished me a good Shabbos. Almost none of them even made eye contact with me so that I could wish them a good Shabbos first. One person did make brief eye contact with me; I wished him a good Shabbos and he walked right by me without a reply.
I became very discouraged. This was Jerusalem, for goodness sake, the capital of Israel and the holiest city in the world! What was wrong with all these people?
I exited the park and saw a young man approaching from the other direction. He was wearing an undershirt and shorts and holding a basketball. As we came within a few feet of each other he wished me a Shabbat Shalom. I was so startled that I hope I managed to return his greeting in time for him to hear it. I glanced behind me and noticed that he was also not wearing a Yarmulka.
The rest of the way home was business as usual -- no eye contact, no greetings, noticed by passersby just enough so they wouldn't bump into me. The only Shabbos greeting I received from the dozens of people I encountered in shul and on the way was from the one person who didn't observe Shabbos, at least not completely.
In my opinion, he was the frummest of the bunch.
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8 comments:
In my experience, the gabbai usually asks if you want to make a mishebeirach for others (with the assumption that the matana is part of it).
Good luck with the blog!
I also get annoyed with gabbaim who are like that, but I never had the experience of their being so obviously obnoxious about it. In terms of the Shabbos issue, this happens in big cities like Jerusalem depending on the context - big cities encourage anonymity. If I remember correctly from my experience there, it's more common to nod a good Shabbos to strangers on a less busy street. Maybe the person said Shabbat Shalom to you because you and he were in close proximity and not many people were around, while, while your experience in the park reflects the reality that there were large numbers of people there in one spot?
When I crossed paths with the guy outside the park there was no one else in the street, but most of the other people I passed were in similar situations. It wasn't like midtown New York during rush hour.
There are many reasons why a particular individual might not greet people at a particular time, and that's all fine; I don't expect people to be robots. But when it's an overwhelming percentage of people who seem self-absorbed to the extent that they davka don't want to say hello to anyone it becomes a culture.
Are you sure you werent' in brooklyn?
It is a great tragedy that this sort of experience would be far from foreign in many -- most? nearly all? -- of our communities.
Ask the average person what they think of Orthodox Jews and you'll get a very wide range of answers. But how many people will include "warm and friendly" in their response?
As a recent newcomer to NYC from the South, the lack of polite greetings is some of the culture shock I'm still getting over. Where I grew up, it was standard even for a quiet, shy person like me to say good shabbos or good morning or such. Even when I initiate a friendly greeting, people often do not respond back or worse give me rude look for just trying to extend a pleasantry.
But you are right when its more common than not, it is upsetting. How can this be fixed?
Have you tried keeping the smile on your face and nodding and wishing THEM good Shabbos first? - Try is sometime - I think the response you get may be different. It is brought down - as I am sure you know- that it is a positive trait to be the first to greet others...
It's easy to suggest walking around with a big smile and giving a boisterous greeting to everyone you encounter, but when the gesture is either ignored or given a cold reply most of the time, one will quickly be worn down and give it up. Relationships -- even minimal, fleeting ones such as these -- are two-way streets, and everyone needs some measure of reciprocity.
When people are walking down the street and make a point to avoid making eye contact with you, they are sending a clear signal that they have no interest in greeting you or being greeted by you.
Pay attention to this next Shabbos and you'll see how true this is. Some people as they approach you will davka look in another direction, or at their shoes, or at their watch, just to avoid having to look at you and send any sort of open signal. Why would you greet someone who is doing contortions to avoid you? They've already sent you all the message you need.
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