There is something majestic about the architecture of a large sanctuary that draws one’s attention upwards towards God’s presence. A room full of people absorbs and mutes some of the sound, but the acoustics of a well designed sanctuary amplify the power of the leader’s voice. On Rosh Hashanah, in between sets of shofar sounds, I like to let the sound echo and die down before continuing on with the next set. It is a reminder that when we do a mitzvah, the effect of that action resonates through the world like the rings of waves coming off a stone thrown into a pond.

Because of pandemic precautions on keeping our distance from other people and increasing concerns about the security of gathering in a space without an emergency exit, we have been almost exclusively using our Sanctuary since resuming in-person services on June 13, 2020, after temporarily suspending services in the building the previous March 18. Our weekday minyan has used the chapel and we did hold several festival services in the chapel on Sundays when All Souls was using the Sanctuary, but for almost four years, we didn’t use the chapel on Shabbat mornings.

We began meeting in the chapel again on Shabbat morning the first week in January, after installing an external exit and a camera to broadcast the service online. I’d gotten used to the feel of 25-35 people in the sanctuary. The first several times meeting in the chapel, it felt crowded, as if there were too many people impinging on my space. We need a certain amount of personal space, but we also tend to like the warmth of the presence of others. The sounds of many voices fill the space of the room, a room full of bodies absorbs and softens the sound, reducing harsh echoes. The quality of the sound and the feeling of community quickly dispel the sense of claustrophobia. This reminds me of a midrash found in Pirke Avot (5:5), that one of the miracles which took place in the Temple was that on Yom Kippur, people were packed in the courtyard like sardines, yet when the time came for them to fall prostrate upon hearing the name of God, each person had ample room to do so comfortably. The sense of being packed into a cramped space cheek to jowl gave way to a more expansive reality.

It is true that we can fulfill our role as Jews in the world without entering a synagogue. Yet our tradition teaches that whenever people gather for prayer or to study Torah, God’s presence rests on the assembly. We can pray alone, but our prayers are intensified by the music of the blended voices of a community. Here are some times that you might make a special effort to come to shul on Shabbat morning:

• On the Shabbat before a Yahrtzeit, to say Kaddish and take an aliyah in memory of your deceased loved one.
• When someone in your family is ill and you want their name to be included in a prayer for healing.
• When a communal tragedy has happened and you don’t want to be alone.
• When we are having a monthly Shabbat lunch.

A community like Ahavas Israel depends on a certain number of people we can count on every week to make a minyan, but we also count a larger group of people to come at regular intervals to fill the room with warmth, voices, and your participation. Please mark your calendar at some regular interval to join us as a part of our synagogue’s Shabbat community.

Hebrew Words of the Month:

• Kehillah, community
• Shekhina, the Divine Presence