C’mon Get Happy

On the left side of the mechitza at the Happy Minyan on Pico
Boulevard, the men put their hands on each other’s shoulders, Chasidic
conga-line style, and start tramping around in a circle; on the other side, the
women hold hands, but remain stationary, bobbing their knees to the tune and
occasionally clapping. On this Shabbat morning, both sides are dancing in their
own way until the wordless melody runs out — and at the Happy Minyan, those “la
la las” can go on for a very long time.

The dancing and singing are just two of the reasons why the
Happy Minyan services finish at least an hour after every other Orthodox
synagogue in the Pico- Robertson neighborhood, and it is also one of the
reasons why this “untraditional traditional” minyan — which draws its
inspiration from the teachings and music of Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach (1925-1994)
— regularly has standing-room only crowds that quickly fill up both the small
chapel at Beth Jacob Synagogue, where the minyan is held, and the ante chamber
outside.

As the first Carlebachian minyan outside of New York and
Israel, the Happy Minyan reflects a trend of similar services sprouting up
around the world — the name itself has become a Jewish adjective to describe a
certain type of prayer service.

Dubbed “the Pied Piper of Judaism,” Carlebach inspired
thousands all over the world to get in touch with their Judaism. The renegade
Chasidic leader composed hundreds of Jewish melodies, which are sung in
synagogues of all denominations, and are so integral to the Jewish experience
that many people sing them without realizing they are his tunes.

“I think the reason why the Happy Minyan is so popular is
because we serve God with joy,” said music manager Stuie Wax, one of the
founders of the Minyan in 1995. “For a lot of people, shul is great if it is
finished by 11 a.m. But if that is what is great, then something is wrong. If
you are looking at your watch while you are davening — how do you think God
feels? Prayer is really about connecting with Hashem, and at the Happy Minyan,
it is all about the davening — not to be yotzei [fulfill an obligation] but to
connect and serve God.”

Wax, who also speaks regularly at Happy Minyan services, was
one of the catalysts for its formation. In 1995, Wax was regularly having
between 60 and 100 people at his house for dinner every Friday night, and very
often the group would hold spirited, Carlebach-style prayer services, similar
to the ones held at the Happy Minyan. When Wax got married that same year, the
group caught the eye of Rabbi Abner Weiss, then the rabbi of Beth Jacob, who
said, “This is not a wedding, this is a congregation.” He encouraged the group
to hold weekly services and gave them free space at Beth Jacob to do so.

“With Rabbi Weiss’ influence, we made this transition from a
grass-roots spiritual happening to a formal minyan,” said television producer
David Sacks, another founder and teacher of the Happy Minyan.

But there really was nothing formal about the Happy Minyan.
Once ensconced in Beth Jacob, the minyan started getting a reputation as an
inspired alternative to the staid formality of many Orthodox synagogues. It
started attracting both hippie holdovers and buttoned-down business types, and
they became known for their singing, their dancing, their clapping and their
spirit.

On this Shabbat morning, children run in and out of the
curtained mechitza, twisting it around their little bodies, almost pulling it
over, eliciting giggles from many of the congregants. Extended singing
punctuates the prayers, though there is no set order as to when the group will
start singing, and when they will stop. Impromptu speeches — varying from
better prayer tips to thoughts on finding God — erupt at various points in the
service, delivered both from the pulpit, and the main seats.

“There is a very spontaneous, anything-can-happen like
atmosphere every Shabbos,” Sacks said. “While our rabbi is Rabbi Steven Weil of
Beth Jacob, there is no real central Happy Minyan rabbi, which allows for this
holy anarchy to take place.”

While Carlebach’s teachings were infused with Chasidic
fervor, for him, Judaism was not a strict set of laws, but an inspirational
array of spiritual wisdom and stories. He was known for his love of all Jews,
and for hugging everyone he came across.
Yet, he distanced himself from traditional Judaism by objecting to Orthodoxy’s strict separation of men and women, and he also
gave private rabbinical ordination to women long before most mainstream Jewish organizations would.

The Happy Minyan follows “Reb Shlomo’s” teachings, but they
adhere to traditional halacha, maintaining a separation between the sexes. The
group took offense at an article recently published in The Journal, which
implied that prayers at the Happy Minyan did not follow a set order for prayer.

“We are very serious about the Torah,” Sacks said.
“Actually, we are seriously happy about keeping the Torah.”

With more than 60 people attending each Shabbat, the Happy
Minyan has practically outgrown its small space at Beth Jacob, and is now
looking for its own building in the Pico-Robertson neighborhood.

The Happy Minyan does sell memberships, but does not insist
that people buy them, because membership sales — or any kind of synagogue
enforced financial obligations — run counter to the Happy Minyan’s philosophy
of giving every Jew a place to pray. Instead of memberships, the minyan relies
on private donations to fund itself.

“People think that organized Judaism is an inherently
unspiritual approach to life,” Sacks said. “The beauty of the Happy Minyan is
that we sing, dance and get excited about loving God and are able to have a
Torah true service, that breaks all those stereotypes.”  

Happy Minyan services are held Friday night and Saturday morning downstairs at Congregation Beth Jacob, 9030 West Olympic Blvd. For more information on The Happy Minyan, call (310) 285-7777; or visit www.happyminyan.org.