A message through the noise

MAXINE COHEN

This time last month, I was sitting in temple, worshipping at the

High Holy Days. If you’re Jewish, as I am, the 10 days from Rosh

Hashanah to Yom Kippur is the holiest time of the year. These are the

Days of Awe, when you look back over the past year, ask forgiveness

for your sins and welcome in the new year.

Now, mea culpa, I am not very religious. In fact, truth be told,

this is the only time of the year that I attend services, even though

I enjoy the services at Temple Bat Yahm a lot. It’s a time for me to

be quiet, to reconnect with myself, my daughter and my heritage.

I was with my daughter, Barbara, seated in the back of the room,

up on the stage, where they put extra seats to accommodate the large

crowd. When we first sat down, I noticed several families with young

children around us, so much so that I wondered if this section was

reserved for them. Then I recalled that there’s an earlier service at

9 a.m., which is specifically for families with young children so

there can be lots of noise and commotion, and it’s perfectly OK.

The 10:45 a.m. service was lovely. I always enjoy Rabbi Mark

Miller. He has the nerve to tell the naked truth, as he sees it.

Telling to, not

talking with

Across the aisle from me was a very young couple with a 6- or

7-month-old little girl. She was perched on Dad’s lap and was

babbling happily, if loudly. Mom was sensitive to the effect this

might have on the worshipers around her, so she got up and took the

baby out of the sanctuary.

I was relieved. Happy chatter or not, it was starting to be too

much.

In a while, Mom and baby returned, just as Miller introduced a

guest. As bad luck would have it, the baby started to babble her head

off.

I could feel myself starting to get upset, but before I could even

think about what to do about it, the man sitting in front of them

turned around and said in a forceful whisper, “This is not

appropriate. You need to take her out of the sanctuary.” Dad got up

immediately with the baby and left.

The service continued. The Ark was opened and the Torahs were

taken out. Each rabbi and the cantor took one and began to walk

around the sanctuary so people could touch and kiss the Torahs.

Everyone started to talk and move toward them, as did this man.

His wife remained in her seat. As soon as her husband left, she

turned to the young mom and apologized: “I don’t agree with my

husband,” she said, “but there isn’t anything I can do about it. I’m

sorry.”

When her husband returned, he, too, spoke to the mom. I imagined

his intention was to soften what he’d said and try to make it better,

but it looked to me like he was telling her instead of talking with

her. I saw her shrink back into herself, go pale and get smaller and

smaller.

This was all Mom could take. She collected her belongings and

left.

Message loud

and clear

Miller began his sermon, and I wanted to pay attention. This day,

he talked about the universal human propensity to blame the other

person rather than take responsibility for your own reactions and

actions.

Yes sirree. From God’s ears to the rabbi’s lips. The sermon

pertained quite nicely to what was going on right here. Because the

underlying assumption that makes it possible to blame another person

is that you think that you are absolutely right, and they are dead

wrong.

Just think about it. There are multiple points of view here, and

they are not compatible.

Of course, I’m guessing, but I would think that as new parents,

Mom and Dad might have thought that because their baby could only sit

on their laps, taking her along would work just fine. They didn’t

quite appreciate the amount of noise a baby can make in a quiet

auditorium, even if she’s stationary.

The annoyed man wanted to worship in peace and quiet, which is why

he came to the later service. He has a perfect right to do so, and

Temple Bat Yahm tries to accommodate just that by offering the

earlier family service.

The man’s wife didn’t share his sensibilities. The babbling didn’t

bother her. My daughter, all 25 years of her, had yet another point

of view. She was of the opinion that the babbling was tolerable

because the baby was not crying and the parents were obviously trying

to be considerate.

Room for the

other side

So, who’s right or wrong here? Clearly, there are many

perspectives and plenty of blame to be assigned, depending upon how

you see it.

And I think that is the essential point -- that no one’s point of

view is inherently more right or more wrong than another’s. Each

comes to his or her own perspective based on age and life experience.

People are trying to get their needs and wants met in the best way

they know how.

And so it is in all relationships. If we can only keep this in

mind, then we will be far less quick to jump to the conclusion that

our partner, spouse, child or friend is being unreasonable and is out

to get us.

The service ended. Barbara and I got up to leave. I felt a

presence at my elbow immediately. The man from across the aisle was

standing next to me. In a low, intense voice, he whispered, “I’ve

been waiting to talk to you. I’m going to nominate you as scribe of

the stage. I see that you’ve been taking copious notes. What were you

writing about?”

I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. Do I tell the truth --

“Look for this in the Daily Pilot,” or do I pass? I didn’t want to

get into it with him, so I took my cue from his tone of voice and the

precision of his words. I deferred. I said something vague like, “Oh,

it was nothing,” and to my relief, he let it go.

I’ll cop to it. I got scared.

So much for quiet moments and reconnecting with myself, my

daughter and my heritage.

A belated Shanah Tovah: Have a good year!

* MAXINE COHEN is a Corona del Mar resident and marriage and

family therapist practicing in Newport Beach. She can be reached at

maxinecohen@adelphia.net or at (949) 644-6435.