Losing My Religion

In the eyes of all 10+ gods I have met over the course of the last 10 months, I hereby cross challenge no. 29 off the list. I have now attended ten different religious services.

Last night my cousin and I went to a Hare Krishna service at Sri Sri Radha Govinda Mandir in downtown Brooklyn.  The 6:00 Sunday service is called Sandhya Arati + Kirtan.

It's pretty much an hour-long incense-induced shoeless dance party, but hey, they have fun with their religion. And they get to wear robes.

Everyone faced a main stage, where an older gentleman in a white robe performed a series of rituals involving fire, water, and a large fan. The man leading the chants stood in the crowd next to a microphone, surrounded by boys and men with drums. The atmosphere was joyful. Little girls danced in circles. Here are some pictures (sorry for the poor quality):

Upon entering the room, each person got on their knees and bowed, some a little more dramatically than others:

And don't ask me who that guy on the couch is. He faced the stage near the back and remained unmoved for the entire service.

At one point a woman walked around with a flame on a plate. She instructed us to put our hands over the flame and then touch our foreheads. Next, a different woman came around with a bowl of water and splashed us with droplets.

After an hour of music and chanting that escalated into jumping up and down with hands in the air, it all ended with a quiet prayer:

Since walking blindly into the service didn't really reveal much about the Hare Krishna belief system (and my knowledge to date has been based solely on an episode of Mad Men), I dug a little deeper via their website. Karma, vegetarianism, and yoga play a large role, as do the following four principles:

1. Cleanliness: Of body, mind and soul.
This means the daily washing of the body, but also refraining from illicit sex (only sex for procreation within marriage). Celibacy, recitation of God´s (Krishna´s) holy names and studying the holy Scriptures help us to keep the mind and soul clean and balanced.

2. Mercy: To help living entities (materially as well as spiritually).
True followers of the Vedic (or any other) Scriptures are strictly vegetarians. It is perfectly possible to live healthily and happily without needlessly killing innocent animals. To kill our fellow living entities instead of protecting them, is against the laws of God.

3. Austerity: To take only what we really need, without greed or violence.
Intoxications like alcohol, hard and soft drugs, tobacco, caffeine etc. make someones mercy and friendliness disappear. Addictions are not only unnecessary, but also very harmful (to body, mind and to others). The best alternative for addictions is an awakening of our eternal relationship with God (Krishna) by living in accordance with His laws.

4. Truthfulness: Means that we should not lie or gamble.
Gambling destroys truthfulness because it is an attempt to bypass the laws of nature and obtain material profit without honestly working for them. An honest deed is the best gamble in the world and a sure winner.

But perhaps the largest part is what they call "Mantra Meditation," which is both individual and congregational. Individually devotees of Krishna perform a daily schedule of personal prayer and meditation. This is centered around the recitation of the names of Krishna (God) using prayer beads to count out the number of names chanted. The prayer, or “mantra”, that they repeat is called the Hare Krishna Maha Mantra.

“Hare”, “Krishna” and “Rama” are all names used in the Vaishnava tradition that refer to God and His energies. Because God is spiritual and all-powerful if someone chants His name then they will become purified – materially and spiritually. This chanting is also considered a form of prayer whereby the devotee is appealing to the Lord to please engage the devotee in the Lord’s service.


Overall, it was pleasant. The people were relatively welcoming but pretty much left us alone. I didn't get a cult vibe. And if I ever feel like dancing and touching fire and feasting on vegetarian fare, I know where to go.

Book of Mormon

Yesterday I attended my ninth religious service (only one more to go!) for challenge no. 29. This time I paid a visit to the Mormons at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Harlem.

I'm going to let this Wikipedia article do the heavy lifting of explaining Mormonism, if you're interested or in some sort of emergency boredom situation.

And by the way, because I know you're curious, it was EXACTLY like the Book of Mormon on Broadway. Except there were no dance numbers, no references to Africa (or Orlando), no laughing, no plot twists, and no complete and utter disregard for the sacredness of the religion. Also I wasn't mildly drunk.

After tossing my coffee in the trash a block away from the church, I showed up at 1:00 for the YSA or "Young Single Adult" service (a friend from work attends, so I opted to join her). The structure of the service was pretty expected: hymn, invocation, sacrament, hymn, speakers, hymn.

Instead of some sort of preacher, there were three "speakers" (a young woman, a young man, and an older gentleman who serves on the High Council) who addressed the attendees on the day's topic: the importance of family. Appropriate topic, as most of the young brothers and sisters listening were probably dating or thinking of dating and having to come to terms with a lot of the Mormon rules when it comes to dating or thinking of dating.

Each speech was very personal. They spoke of their backgrounds, relayed childhood anecdotes, and cried. The third speaker gave the most sermon-esque address, telling the young and single members of the church that it is their duty as Mormons to uphold the family as the foundation and core of the church. Go find a mate, create Mormon babies, and pray together as a family. Oh, and engage in wholesome activities, like camping. This will keep the Mormon religion alive and thriving.

Mild sarcasm aside, I did take some very positive messages away from the experience:

The third speaker (who, by the way, had a very interesting story of being born in a hippie commune and then adopted by Mormons) asked, "Think of your happiest memory. Were you with family?" I realized that most of my happiest times have indeed involved family.

Then he said, "If you love someone, tell them frequently and sincerely that you love them."

I left dripping with gratefulness that I have such an amazing family (and future family). Seriously, they are incredible. So to my family (yes, even you McBrides): I love you.

Baha'i There

Preface: This post contains what are commonly referred to as "opinions." No offense is intended.

For religious service number eight out of ten (challenge no. 29), I attended the 11:00 service at the Baha'i ("bah-high") center near Union Square in Manhattan.

I never thought that common sense and religion could or should belong in the same sentence, but Baha'i got the closest to accomplishing that connection for me. The Baha'i faith revolves around the principle of unity and that God has sent nine messengers throughout history, including Abraham, Krishna, Moses, Buddha, Jesus Christ and Mohammed. While the rest of the world separates these prophets into different religions, Baha'is believe that they were each sent by the same God to reach different peoples of the earth. I have always wondered...would I be Muslim if I happened to be born in Iraq? A diehard Catholic if I were from Italy? Why does the location of your birth so often dictate what God you believe in? If I was born in a place where Christianity did not exist and I was never exposed to it, does that mean I am damned to hell in the eyes of Christians?

The space at the Baha'i Center of NYC was a small-ish room with a circle of chairs around a table of prayer books in every language you could imagine. We began with introductions. The people in attendance were from China, Russia, Bolivia, Bulgaria, England, Jamaica, Ethiopia, and the United States. The atmosphere was completely relaxed. There was about a half hour of prayer, at which time any member could recite something from a book or from memory or sing, if they felt so inclined. Then we launched into an hour-long discussion of the day's topic: The importance of religion. It was a classroom-esque forum where one person called on others to speak.

Within minutes, my mind was racing with these things called "thoughts." I have them from time to time, but hardly ever does a religious service bring so many to the surface.

One such thought was that so often religious peoples act out of fear. They fear going to hell, so they try to live what they consider to be "good." They fear what others in their community will think of them, so they show up to church every Sunday. They fear other religions, so they close their eyes and their ears to what others have to say.

From what I could gather in my short experience on 11th Street, Baha'is don't act out of fear. They act out of the desire to better humanity and to spread peace and understand throughout the world. They believe the purpose of religion is to establish order in the world and the peaceful contentment of all that dwell therein. Baha'u'llah (the founder of the Baha'i faith) wrote, "Should the lamp of religion be obscured, chaos and confusion with ensue, and the lights of fairness, of justice, of tranquility and peace cease to shine."

To learn more about the Baha'i faith, visit www.bahai.org.

Ab-uh-sin-ee-an

This past Sunday I attended my 7th religious service for challenge no. 29: Abyssinian Baptist Church in the heart of Harlem. It just might be one of my favorites.

Abyssinian (which I can now finally pronounce) was founded in 1808 and has a powerful lineage and palpable pride emanating from its members, who will describe themselves as a "fourth generation Abyssinian" or "descendant of (famous member)."

I had been putting this particular service off because I knew there was always a line to get in (it's considered a major tourist attraction). I showed up around 9:00 and there was already a line for the 11:00 service. Abyssinian lets its members fill the church and then gives the remaining seats to the visitors. The rules were made clear: No flip-flops, no bare shoulders, no sports attire, no pictures on the inside, and no leaving before its over. I witnessed many angry camera-toting tourists being turned away. 

The gospel music was, of course, amazing. No surprises there. That's one of the main reasons for the line wrapped around the block two hours before the service.

On this particular morning the church was observing Pastor's Memorial Sunday, honoring the former pastors of the church, who reigned like kings in their tenure and are still the most highly regarded aspect of the church, with the exception of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. The sermon was delivered by a guest Reverend, Sharon Williams.

Rev. Williams was electric, booming, her arms working in sync with her voice, punctuating those particularly passionate points. I was captivated by her. She commanded that room with her presence, her humor (she was damn funny), her honesty. No word passed through her lips that she didn't believe in with every ounce of her being.

Her sermon revolved around the idea of AUTHORITY:

It is the nature of authority which makes it a matter of contention because people want to fight over who has it. Authority is not power. Authority is the right to USE power. When Jesus came and started healing and performing miracles, the question was not whether he COULD do those things but who AUTHORIZED him to do those things. Who gave him the right to use such power?

Well, God. Obviously.

The authority in which Jesus stands is the mark of the nails on his resurrected body. The authority in which Christians stand is the mark of the nails on our resurrected bodies. A Christian stands in authority to comfort those afflicted by sin and afflict those comfortable with sin.

Near the end of the sermon, she said this: I AM NOT SCARED OF ANYTHING ANYMORE.

As I wallowed in the silence that followed, I realize that this statement was one of the most powerful statements I've ever heard. I've never heard anyone say those words and mean it more than Rev. Williams meant it. Can you imagine the freedom she must feel, not being afraid? It radiated from her. I was all the way up in the balcony and I could see it in her expression.

And at that moment she inspired me to somehow remove all the fear from my life. Now I just have to figure out how.

Yes, Quakers Still Exist

I refuse to make a joke about oats. Trust me, I was planning on it. But after experiencing a Quaker religious service (otherwise known as a "meeting") for challenge no. 29, I have nothing but respect for those who call themselves "Friends." These were some of the nicest people I've ever met, faithful and hopeful despite a dying membership and dwindling funds.

Below is a description of Quakerism straight from the website of the Fifteenth Street Religious Society of Friends, where I completed religious service number six out of ten. Pay close attention to the third paragraph, for this is the essence of this religious service experience:

So on Sunday off I frolicked to the Fifteenth Street Religious Society of Friends. It went a little something like this:

9:30 - I arrive and take a seat. Fourteen Friends sit in remarkable silence and stillness inside the sanctuary. Rows of pews on all four sides of the square room face inward toward the center. There is no light beyond the sun coming through the large windows. It looks like the inside of the church that burned down in The Patriot. RIP Heath Ledger.

9:34 - Another Friend arrives. The door creaks rudely.

9:36 - A dog barks.

9:39 - My pinky twitches. I fear I have attracted too much attention.

9:44 - No one has said a word yet. I observe the positions of the others: one with her hands in her lap, cupped and facing upward; another with his shoulders back, outstretched arms resting on the pew; one with her elbows resting on her knees, her head down and hands clasped together.

9:51 - I accept the silence and begin to attempt some sort of meditation. It goes well until someone coughs and I have a near heart attack.

9:58 - My back hurts.

10:05 - Police siren.

10:08 - Thirty eight minutes of silence. I'm starting to wonder if my sarcastic internal monologues are interfering with the Quaker energy. I vow to open up myself to messages from above.

10:11 - I could really go for some pancakes.

10:14 - I hear an owl. I know, right? An owl!

10:17 - I send a silent message to whoever might be listening, expressing my gratitude for my health, my family, my friends, my employment status, and my recent betrothal.

10:25 - Five minutes left. Wondering if I should say something just to freak everyone out.

10:30 - An elder Friend rises from the pew, signaling the end of the "meeting." All others follow suit, start shaking hands with one another and saying, "Good morning."

At this point the elder Friend, an old man with a cane, thick-rimmed glasses and a fedora, addressed the group in a shaky, kind voice. He invited everyone for snacks in the hall so that they could discuss what was experienced in the silence of the last hour. Then he made a heart-breaking plea for funds. I took a look around at the FIFTEEN members that had come to worship that day. They each shared his look of desperation. If the man in the fedora had a credit card machine I would have maxed mine out right then and there out of sheer pity.

I find Quakerism to be such an interesting faith, one that exists on the utter fringe of our day-to-day life, but what I realized in this visit is that its few members need each other and their meetings and their space to worship. This is a huge part of their life, and its being slowly taken away by skyrocketing rents and a lack of exposure.

I actually felt bad for showing up, for making them think that I may be interested in joining their community. I led the Quakers on and genuinely feel horrible about it.

And so this is for them: I realize that you have no good reason to give your hard-earned money to some Quakers you've never met in NYC, but if for some reason you feel so inclined, or are under the influence of alcohol and happen to be a generous drunk, click HERE to donate money to keep their church up and running.

Good morning.

Hillsong NYC

This was taken at 10:00 a.m. on Sunday morning.

Welcome to Hillsong NYC, a Christian congregation and my fifth religious service out of ten (challenge no. 29), which occupies the Gramercy Theater (a concert venue) on Sunday mornings.

Hillsong originates from Australia, where it holds the unofficial record of being the largest church in the country's history (we're talking 20,000 people on any given weekend). I'm not sure when it made its first appearance in the States, but from what I could tell, young Christians are hungry for what Hillsong is feeding them (when I left there was a line around the block to get into the 12:00 service). They have definitely tapped into something and will have no problem continuing to grow.

Upon arrival I was greeted with an enthusiastic "Welcome home!" Strong, consistent tagline. I'll tip my hat to that.

I arrived five minutes before the service and there were no seats left, which seemed unfortunate until I realized that sitting is not really something that Hillsong members do all that often.

The music began promptly at 10:00 and proceeded to give me flashbacks of being at the Roxy Theater in Atlanta circa 1999. I can see why it has been dubbed the Rock -n- Roll church. Hands in the air, dancing, singing, shouting out between songs. Not for Freebird but for Jesus.

Fresh off of Easter weekend during which the usual pastor lost his voice, the sermon was delivered by a guest pastor from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, who I'm convinced has career in stand-up comedy if he ever decides to leave the church. He broke the ice by making some jokes about the south (always a NYC crowd pleaser) and followed that with a well-delivered sermon that revolved around Jesus taking a nap.

At this point I'm ankle deep in Kool-Aid.

But take away the comedy, the charming anecdotes and the attractive young band members, and the message was simple: Jesus helps you get to the other side.

According to pastor/comedian Dino, everything has a beginning (easy!) and an end (even easier!). But it's the middle that tests you, and in the case of a Christian, tests your faith. The takeaway: You have to learn to "deal with your middle." God takes people through middles. You may not know a lot about God, but he sure knows a lot about you. And he knows how to get you to the other side.

It's hard not to relate to a message like this, especially when I can see my middle (the six-month mark of my year of challenges) quickly approaching. So I appreciated the applicable nature of what I was hearing.

All in all, this was probably the one religious service so far in which I wasn't bored at some point. Their beliefs are heavy-handed, but that's church, right? They are fervent believers, which only earns them my respect for their passion. The people were friendly and the music was pretty damn good.

Hillsong has something quite unique, and it was a pleasure taking a peek into their world.

All Souls Welcome

On Sunday I attended a Unitarian church called All Souls on the Upper East Side, my fourth religious service for challenge #29.

All Souls is a "self-governing congregation of nearly 1,500 people that was established in 1819. We come together to worship, serve the community and create an enriching, non-dogmatic religious environment." They are dedicated to "providing an environment in which all people feel welcome regardless of race, sexual orientation or physical ability."

In 1961 the Unitarians and Universalists joined together, making All Souls a Unitarian Universalist church and part of the UUA.

I was greeted warmly, took a program and entered the large sanctuary a few minutes early. Taking in my surroundings, I noted a few things: No crosses (or any symbols for that matter). No statues. No stained glass. A bare-bones but beautiful sanctuary, anything but intimidating.

My pew number. Fitting.

The crowd was extremely diverse, which was refreshing. I never felt out of place for a second. The overall vibe was friendly, approachable, and easy-going.

If I were to sum up this church and its service in one word, it would be community. Most of what was said in the sermon was about living life together, how we are all interdependent and can use that interdependence for good. What was missing? Talk of death, the afterlife, judgment. The word "God" was used, but when we were led in prayer, it was addressed to the "Spirit of the Universe."

The Doxology read as follows:
From all that dwell below the skies,
Let faith and hope with love arise;
Let beauty, truth and good be sung,
Through every land, by every tongue. Amen.

The music at All Souls had a more melodic quality than I've experienced before, at times taking on almost a Disney feel -- upbeat, happy and warm. There was a soloist who sang two different songs throughout the service. When he was finished, something truly remarkable happened. Something I have never experienced at a religious service before: There was applause. Applause! Well-deserved applause, might I add. Much better than stuffy silence and a few throat-clearing coughs.

Interesting hymn lyrics.

Stunning organ.

When the (55 minute) service was over, I headed downstairs to the coffee hour, where I stumbled upon a welcome surprise: vegan cookies at the ethical eating committee table. Praise Jesus! Or not!

Some people think that Unitarianism isn't a religion and that what I attended wasn't really "church." But according to one particular resource (my brain), if a group of people who share the same beliefs about a higher authority or spirit (in this case, the belief that God is who you want him/her to be) come together as a community to celebrate and explore those beliefs, then by God (or not), that is a church. I understand how Unitarianism could offend people of other faiths by being so open and accepting of so many convictions, but that doesn't mean that I think Unitarianism is wrong or evil. My experience with it was such a positive one that it's hard to fault them. Let them pray to the Spirit of the Universe, let them be welcoming to atheists and Christians alike, let them keep doing what they're doing. Because all they really want to do is good.

Holy Architecture

Just...wow. Not sure if I'd be able to make it out to the Ozarks in Arkansas just to attend a religious service (challenge no. 29), but this is certainly tempting me. I recently came across these pictures of Thorncrown Chapel. This place is beyond stunning:

Exit (Peacefully) Through the Gift Shop

This past Sunday I attended my third religious service for challenge no. 29 (attend ten different religious services and record your impression of each). The lucky religion was Buddhism. I chose the 10:00 a.m. service at the Mahayana Temple in Chinatown NYC. Again, I must begin by saying that I am Buddhist newbie, and this is my humble depiction of one service, so forgive any uneducated bits. If I offend any Buddhists, you can retaliate with violence.

Oh, that's right. You can't.

Upon arrival, we were greeted by a large bin of fortunes, rolled up like tiny scrolls. They request that you donate a dollar for every fortune you take. I have no complaints about the fortune I chose. Except for the "try hard" part. That just seems like a lot of work.

The decor was absolutely refreshing. The bright colors (mostly reds, yellows and oranges) and fresh fruit piled before the temple were beautiful. Thirty-two framed prints lined the two main walls, depicting moments of Buddhist history. A simple sign that read "NOBLE SILENCE" was one of my personal favorites. Obviously there were numerous Buddhas to be seen. But it's the enormous gold Buddha inside the temple that draws tourists. There were people who came in and out just to take pictures of it during the service, despite signs that asked them not to. It's just too hard to resist a giant gold Buddha.

Emo Buddha.

Giant gold tourist-attracting Buddha.

The table in the picture above ran down the center of the room and sat twelve on each side. It was full of Buddhists in black robes, save for the one monk dressed in a yellow robe. We took a seat in one of the chairs up against the wall, facing the table.

The service itself was wall-to-wall prayer, chanted hypnotically and 100% in Chinese, stopping only to move around to a different part of the temple for varying types of prayers. While everyone chanted, the monk in yellow led the service. Drums and bells (and the occasional gong) could be heard all the way through. Many times I simply closed my eyes and enjoyed the sounds and smells (incense and citrus mostly). Normally I find incense overpowering, but something about the incense at Mahayana was different. It had a mild smoky scent that I loved, rather than being overly "flavored," if that makes any sense. Pun!

My favorite part was when everyone at the table got up and started walking slowly in a circle around the temple with their hands in prayer position, bowing every time they came around to the giant Buddha. It looked like the most peaceful conga line ever, so we jumped in. It gave me a chance to see all of the historical prints and clear my mind a bit. Like walking meditation.

Overall, I really enjoyed this service. The people were nothing but kind and helpful. They invited us to lunch downstairs afterward, and one of the elderly attendees gave us a book about Buddhism. I wish I could talk more about the message, but from what I can tell, it mostly revolved around praising the different Buddhas and asking for wisdom and understanding. There was a prayer for the deceased, one for incense, and an offering of food.

Did I mention that Mahayana has a gift shop? It does and we went there. We purchased three Buddhas to remember our experience. As I learned, there are many different postures a Buddha can take, each representing a different event in the life of the historical Buddha (Siddhartha Gautama). But In Mahayana specifically, Buddha is the true nature of all beings, so in a sense, everyone is Buddha. Yeah, it's a bit confusing.

According the gift shop employee, the two gold ones below represent travel and money (the fat, laughing Buddha emerged from Chinese folklore in the 10th century). The larger red Buddha is a more somber statue, meant for blessings and deep meditation.

I am going to invite the red she-Buddha to my morning mediation sessions per challenge no. 6.

In conclusion, my peek into Chinese Buddhism was a fantastic experience. I might even go back. And not just for the free lunch.

St. Peter in St. Petersburg

On Christmas Eve I attended my second religious service for challenge #29, this time Episcopalian. Normally at 5:00 p.m. on Christmas Eve I'm elbow deep in some kind of pie, but this year I got all dressed up and went with Austin and his family to The Church of St. Peter in downtown St. Petersburg, Florida.

It was a very classy birthday party for Jesus. The entire church was adorned with Christmas trees, garlands, and bright red flowers, all of which played a supporting role to the cathedral's striking architecture. Little girls ran around in their Christmas dresses and bows, and only a handful of people showed up in jeans. Most wore their Christmas best, or at least their Christmas better.

The service itself was full of Christmas hymns, some pretty familiar and others rather obscure to me. There were various readings and prayers, a particularly short sermon that I will abbreviate later, and communion. The Episcopalian service has much in common with a Catholic one.

My absolute favorite part of the evening was near the end, when the lights were dimmed and we sang "Silent Night" by the light of the many candles throughout the cathedral. If I hadn't felt Christmasy before this point, it was poking at my heart during this song. To borrow from the hymn itself, "All is calm" is the best way to describe that moment. The flickering candles were the only things that moved.

My second favorite part was the organ and brass combo, which made every song sound a little grander than they would have otherwise.

Reverend Stephen Morris, the Dean, gave his message to an almost full crowd. He began by saying that despite how we sentimentalize the night that Jesus was born and make it so cozy, that barn was probably pretty stinky, those shepherds were at the bottom of the socioeconomic scale, and Joseph and Mary could have used a nice hot shower. A king is born! In kind of a gross situation! 

His point was that Jesus was born on the fringe (he used this word a lot) of everything, so far removed from the center of power, and that is where God stepped in and "changed our course." We each have our own fringe, that place where our hopes and our fears collide, where our center of power that we think we maintain so well starts to unravel, and we immediately want to be rehabilitated. "But God doesn't come to rehabilitate," the Dean said. "He comes to redeem." He comes to you in that place, your fringe.

"Tonight, celebrate Bethlehem," he concluded. The original fringe.

Okay, so it was interesting. Didn't really high-five my soul or anything, but I understood and appreciated the message, regardless if it lined up with my own beliefs, and it didn't drag on and on. In general, the beauty of the cathedral, the solemn but moving music, and the Christmasy mood of the congregation made this service pretty enjoyable. And it was all in English, which is a plus.

Saturday Morning Shabbat

*This post contains religious bits. I've tried to be as objective as possible.* 

Last Saturday I began my "attend 10 different religious services" challenge with Shabbat Service at Town & Village Synagogue in New York City. I considered a Jewish service to be appropriate as I am currently researching my Jewish heritage per challenge #22. From the Town & Village website:

Traditional, participatory, and egalitarian, T&V has members from throughout the New York area. Our members look to T&V, as did our founders, as our sacred space, our spiritual home, a place where Conservative Jews, lay and clergy, men and women, adults and children, together, create community and commitment.

So, yeah. Almost the entire thing was in Hebrew. New experiences! 

It started at 9:30. I arrived at 9:31 and opened the door to a large, beautiful sanctuary. There were four people inside, including the Rabbi. Curse my punctuality. It could not have been more awkward. My plan to hide in the crowd and quietly observe now foiled, I immediately attracted attention. The Rabbi came over to introduce himself and make me feel as welcome as possible. That was nice. I settled into the pew and tried to follow along as best I could. Slowly but surely, people trickled in. By the end of the service (ahem...three hours later), the sanctuary was more or less at capacity.

Here's my completely green, religiously-uneducated account of what took place at Shabbat Service:
An hour of praying/chanting/singing (my apologies as I do not know the legit term) in Hebrew with English translation provided, followed by the opening of the Ark, where a large scroll (the Torah) was extracted and laid upon a large table. An hour of reading from the Torah in Hebrew by multiple readers, young and old. A brief sermon from the Rabbi. Closing prayers and songs. Announcements.

And here is what actually took place:

It was long, yes, but there were some rather enjoyable parts, the first being the Prayer for Peace, the only prayer spoken in English:

May we see the day when war and bloodshed cease
when a great peace will embrace the whole world

Then nation shall not threaten nation
and humankind will not again know war.

For all who live on earth shall realize
we have not come into being to hate or destroy

We have come into being
to praise, to labour and to love.

Compassionate God, bless all the leaders of all nations
with the power of compassion.

Fulfill the promise conveyed in Scripture:

"I will bring peace to the land,
and you shall lie down and no one shall terrify you.
I will rid the land of vicious beasts
and it shall not be ravaged by war."

Let love and justice flow like a mighty stream.

Let peace fill the earth as the waters fill the sea.

And let us say: Amen

Without tapping into my own religious beliefs, I would argue that the above prayer has a particularly universal appeal, despite a few nuances. No one shall terrify you? That sounds nice. Let peace fill the earth as the waters fill the sea? That's just good writing. I read this one out loud.

The second enjoyable part was the weekly Torah portion. I followed along via the English translation provided. The excerpt told the story of Jacob's journey to Haran, Jacob's Ladder and Jacob's marriages to his uncle Laban's daughters, Rachel and Leah. Not only did the Torah in the pew have English translations, it included footnotes galore so the story was easy to follow. I learned quite a bit.

The third enjoyable part of the service was the Rabbi's sermon. Apparently he is a psychic Rabbi and knew I was coming, for the sermon was about advertising. He spoke of a recent Israeli government campaign designed to entice Jews living in the U.S. to "come home" to Israel. Outrage has ensued amongst the Jewish community as a result. It was the Rabbi's opinion that this campaign was created out of fear that Jews will become more casual in their faith outside of the mother country and the belief that Israel is the only place where Jews can both "survive" and "thrive." Ending on a positive note, the Rabbi argued that Jews have the ability to reestablish and redefine themselves wherever they go, just as Jacob had done in that day's reading from the Torah.

OVERALL IMPRESSION:
Shabbat service felt more like an interesting class on Judaism rather than an uncomfortable preachy experience. The singing (accompanied by occasional foot stomping) was pleasantly hypnotic at times, and there was a distinct feeling of community amongst the members. Not sure if I'll be converting to Judaism anytime soon, but I do have a greater appreciation for the Jewish faith, and I am now able to imagine more clearly what my Jewish ancestors might have been doing on a Saturday morning more than a hundred years ago.