Cantor's Corner

Cantor Audrey Abrams

Many of you may not know this, but in my “previous life” I was a music therapist. Put simply, a music therapist uses music as the tool to achieve non-musical goals. The structure of music, the accessibility of music, the non-threatening nature of music – makes music a very powerful tool which can elicit emotions and responses that one might never imagine. When I was contemplating the cantorate I knew there were similarities between the professions but at the time could not easily identify what they were. Now I see that the same simple definition of music therapy appliesto how a cantor utilizes music.

As a music therapist, I discovered that music helps one identify feelings, learn to relax and take risks, increase self-esteem and socialization, keep memory sharp, as well as countless other outcomes. As a Cantor, I see these same outcomes in Synagogue services and rituals. Participating in services can be a time of relaxation – different from the rest of the week, free of the regular stresses of our day; we can feel a sense of accomplishment and pride when we are called to help lead services or master new skills such as reading Torah for the first time; we hopefully feel a sense of community when we are singing together; the memorization required for reading Torah or Megillat Esther helps to keep our mental facilities sharp. And these are just the beginning.

All my life music has “stirred my soul.” Singing in choirs, along with the radio, with my friends, or in the shower has always caused an indescribable feeling within me. While working as a music therapist I discovered that it has been scientifically proven that singing releases endorphins, and this release of endorphins make us feel good. Therefore, that indescribable stirring was in part a feeling of wellbeing caused by the release of endorphins. But it is the music of the synagogue that takes me past the feeling of well-being to a feeling of joy. It is the combination of the natural high singing provides and the awesomeness of praying to God that brings me to joy. And sometimes it is the pure joy of singing that brings me to God. The psalmist knew this feeling when he wrote, “It is good to sing psalms to our God (Psalm 147).” And the hassidic masters knew this feeling with their basic teaching of bringing God into all aspects of one's life, particularly through intense prayer and joyous singing.

So if singing can make us feel good and singing praises to God could possibly fill our hearts with joy, why is it that often people at Beth El do not sing? Perhaps they think they can’t sing or are embarrassed to sing in front of others. Perhaps the Hebrew or the melodies get in the way. Though the melody and the Hebrew are important (after all, I am a Cantor!) I want to suggest that ultimately we put those concerns aside. If the words are pure – if they come from your heart when you pray – it doesn’t really matter what they sound like…or if they are words at all. Leonard Bernstein wrote a beautiful artsong in which he says, “Sing God a Simple Song. Lau Da Lau Day. Make it up as you go along. Lau Da Lau Day. Sing like you like to sing. God loves all simple things. For God is the simplist of all.”

As the Yamim Nora’im (Days of Awe) approach, I encourage you to not be a passive listener. Be a part of the prayer and see how good you feel. Take a risk and hear how your own voice blends with those around you. If necessary, leave out the words and hum along. Keep an open mind to melodies you may not know and try to join in when you can. Open up your heart and sing. Maybe you’ll find a feeling of well-being; maybe you’ll find a feeling of joy; maybe you’ll find God.

May we all have a healthy, happy and joyous year, filled with songs in our hearts and in our mouths.