I have been going to bar and bat mitzvahs here in South Florida for some years now and have accumulated quite a collection of kipot (a kipa is a small skullcap called otherwise, a yarmulke. A whole bunch or plural kipa’s is kipot.) The collection is growing and I really don’t make use of them.  I discovered that when I was handed one at the door of the Sanctuary in the past that I would either decline or take one and put it in my pocket.  For the last several bar mitzvahs I have worn them so as not to cause a fuss.  I noticed from my seat in a pew to the rear that a whole forest, so to speak, of heads wearing kipot dotted my view of the front.

I really don’t believe in either wearing a kipa or a prayer shawl (a talit (sephardit pronunciation) or talis (Ashkenazi pronunciation) and thus endorse the education I received as a Reform Jew that in “Classical” Reform such garments were not used.  I am not more Jewish or more religious in wearing them to services.

I don’t need to wear them to pray either.  I don’t quite know how to pray.  I have said this before, I know.  But it is true.  I just stop before prayer especially silent prayer that occurs several times during the service.  I pray along with others reading the Hebrew prayers and know most of them by heart.  I even know what most of them mean for there is often transliteration or translation provided.  But, I don’t think I am speaking to Adonai or God or Lord or whatever The Name of God is.  I certainly have not heard voices or seen visions or am answering summons when I do something that suddenly occurs to me.

This is not a real problem for I do not feel uncomfortable sitting among the majority of those who today, for instance, appeared for a wonderful performance by a thirteen year old reciting the prayers of old in the ritual of Bar Mitzvah.  Most of those surrounding me gave no hint they were praying except for one singular individual who lives by and for prayer.  He is given to calling out AMEN! at all times. He also sings along gustily and claps his hand rhythmically to those songs that require an active body.  He is a prayerful individual and gets a great deal out of his commitment to prayer.  I go along and do not get anything out of the service except for the camaraderie of singing in the choir and getting the notes right and hearing the harmonies that I help in creating.

I am grateful for those families that provide these services celebrating the coming of age of their sons and daughters.  I cried along with Carol at the poignancy of speeches given by proud parents and witnessing the coming together of close family and offering the entire congregation the privilege of being part of something special.  I have accumulated quite a nice selection of head coverings. Who will get my collection of kipot?