Writings from Rabbi Glickman

If I ever need to change careers, I think I might become a church critic. Of course, I’d be a synagogue critic, a mosque critic, and a shrine critic too - it change depending upon which house of worship I visited each week.

“But wait,” you object, “Glickman, you’re not even Christian! Don’tchya think you’d have a credibility issue on your hands if you decided to critique churches? Or mosques? Or shrines?”

“Well,” I respond, “does Bart Ripp ever critique restaurants serving types of food he’s never eaten? Does movie critic Soren Andersen ever write about movies set in places he’s never visited?” Of course they do! Just as these guys evaluate material outside their own experience, so too could I write with authority about religions other than my own.

Heck! If Bart Ripp can describe himself as a “hired belly”… then why can’t I be a “hired soul”?

The possibilities are so exciting! My weekly critiques would each highlight a different house of worship, and asses the service there based on several criteria, rated on a scale of one to five smiley-face suns (using crosses, menorahs, or and crescents might offend, of course, and the sun is so universal!).

The first criterion would be Atmosphere. How was the lighting? Was the sanctuary too hot or too cold? What about the sound system? Was the prayerbook too heavy? Did it still have its ribbon? Did a Friendly Person greet me at the door? How big was that person’s smile? (I’d have to measure, of course). Was I immediately assigned a mentor to show me around, help me find my place in the hymnal, introduce me to the pastor, and do my taxes?

Perhaps most important would be the issue of “pew-cush,” for worship without adequate padding for the supplicant derriere tends to just not work.

Another criterion would be Form. Was the pastor clean-shaven, or was she unkempt? Were the vestments neatly pressed? Was the music hip, or outdated; newfangled, or traditional? Did the pastor speak in a deep, sonorous voice, or did he sound like Barney Fife? Did the choir harmonize? Did the organist flub any notes?

And finally, Content. Was there anything objectionable in the liturgy? (Religion, we know, should always please, rather than challenge. ) Did the sermon make the worshippers feel good, or did the pastor have the audacity to say they should be better? Most important, did the congregation agree with the sermon? If not, then the pastor certainly should have chosen another topic.

Sounds exciting, doesn’t it? However, as I think about it, I’m beginning to anticipate a problem. When Ripp or Andersen compose their restaurant and movie critiques, they are evaluating the professionals. The chefs cook the food, the actors and crews make the movies, and the critics tell us how well they did.

But the experience of public worship is different. Here, the quality of what happens depends just as much on the other “patrons” as it does on the professionals. At a church, synagogue, or mosque, the leaders of worship obviously have an important role in determining the quality of the experience. But the congregation’s role is just as important. For worship to “work,” worshippers themselves need to bring open minds and loving hearts to the service - for it is through religious struggle and sincere love that we create prayerful communities. Even the most brilliant sermon, or the most uplifting music, will fall flat as worship for those unwilling or unable to be engaged by it. Creative liturgy will die an awkward death in a congregation stuck on always doing it the way they’ve always done it, while religious tradition will be empty for a congregation bent on rejecting everything written prior to the debut of “Baywatch.”

So maybe it isn’t the “church” as an institution that I should critique. Maybe I should evaluate the worshippers instead. After all, the true quality of the worship experience is just as much their responsibility as it is that of the person leading them.

But critiquing individual worshippers would be problematic, too. It would take too long to evaluate them all, and even then, who am I to assess what you or anyone else puts into your worship. I could never fully grasp the extent to which your praise is genuine, your thanksgiving sincere, your requests heartfelt.

So when it comes right down to it, my friends, I guess it’s up to you. Yes, feel free to critique your clergypeople - the good ones will appreciate constructive criticism as well as compliments. But examining yourself as a worshipper is far more important. Ask yourself, “Did I do everything I could to make this worship experience a good and holy one for me and for those around me?” If the answer is anything close to yes, then go ahead, give yourself five smiley-face suns for the day. Heck, do yourself a favor this time and add a sixth. You deserve it!

Or better yet, maybe we could just eliminate this “critique thing” from services altogether. After all, concentrating on the quality of worship tends to make it difficult to…well…to worship. Instead, maybe we should go to our church, synagogue, or mosque and focus our efforts not on criticizing, but on praying. Just praying. Sincerely. From the very depths of our being.

Then we could truly worship, leaving the criticism up to professionals, such as Bart and Soren, who know how to do it so well. And as for me, for now I’ll stick with the career I’ve got, because helping people worship with sincerity is important work indeed.

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