Why Synagogues Need Mood Lighting

Rabbis are thoughtful people. They consider every detail of their calling at the most granular level — working on High Holy Day sermons for months, debating seemingly minute variations in liturgy, and carefully searching out the perfect words to address the most pressing and sensitive issues facing the community. 

There is one area of practical rabbinics, however, that has received seemingly no consideration, and this dereliction of duty is a matter of grave significance for our communal and our spiritual lives. 

I am speaking about lighting, and I will no longer keep silent.

It is not as if synagogue aesthetics have been ignored. Skilled architects are often brought in to create beautiful buildings. The Ark and the Bima may well be exquisite works of carpentry. Why, after all of that effort, would we fill our sanctuaries with the garish white light of buzzing, fluorescent tubes?

It is not as if synagogue aesthetics have been ignored. Skilled architects are often brought in to create beautiful buildings. The Ark and the Bima may well be exquisite works of carpentry. The walls may be covered in gorgeous tapestries and works of art. 

Why, after all of that effort, would we fill our sanctuaries with the garish white light of buzzing, fluorescent tubes?

Fluorescent bulbs give off an icy bluish light that is the very opposite of heimish. It is the chosen light of all of our modern world’s most terrible man-made hells — gas station bathrooms, grocery store dairy aisles, the DMV. It is known to be a strain on the eyes and its low-frequency flicker (not noticed consciously) can cause migraines. Above all — it is ugly, and makes us ugly as well. 

Overhead lighting is also a problem. Photographers know that the best time to get a picture is during the “magic hour.” Either in the morning or the evening, the magic hour is that golden time of day when the sun streams in at an angle. It gives everything a beautiful, warm glow. At this time of day, shadows grow longer. This mixture of warm orange light and deep shadow creates depth. 

Contrast this with high noon, when the sun is directly overhead. All shadows disappear, making things look washed out and flat. 

When we light from overhead, we are creating an artificial high noon in our synagogues. We would be better advised to light from a variety of sources including hanging lamps, floor lamps, and candles. 

This weekend, I attended Kabbalat Shabbat at a gorgeous synagogue that happened to be lit like a dentist’s office. Rabbi Art Green was visiting, and he gave a beautiful sermon about the “extra soul” that we receive on Shabbat. 

According to Rabbi Green, this soul is always with us, but it is scared away during the rest of the week by the frantic pace of our lives. 

I would like to suggest that this soul is also scared away by harsh lighting. What philosophers call the disenchantment of the world — the mass abandonment of belief in the supernatural — coincides historically with the illumination of the world—the transition from candle to gas light to light bulb.

This is no coincidence. In overly bright places, we become insensate to the spiritual. This is why our prehistoric ancestors enacted their rituals by torchlight in the darkest caves. This is why our more recent ancestors in Jerusalem sent the High Priest into the darkness of the Holy of Holies with only a pan of glowing embers.

Choose warm light over cool. Turn off the ceiling lights. Create a lightscape that is diverse, containing areas of glow and pockets of shadow. 

Nocturnal Jewish rituals like Kabbalat Shabbat should not be conducted under the violent glare of an artificial noon. Rabbis and synagogue board members, I implore you — buy lamps and lampshades for your sanctuaries. Choose warm light over cool. Turn off the ceiling lights. Create a lightscape that is diverse, containing areas of glow and pockets of shadow. 

If you have fluorescents, just get rid of them. 

They are scaring the shechina away.

Matthew Schultz is the author of the essay collection “What Came Before” (2020)