We live in a world full of hypocrisy. It exists at a national level, a political party level, a state level, a city level, a community level, and even on an individual level. For example, every time a frum Jew sins or neglects to do a mitzvah that he is required and able to do, that is an act of hypocrisy.

The claim of hypocrisy has often been used as an excuse to avoid dealing with ideas or criticism that may have merit. If you say that the person or group is hypocritical, then you don’t have to address their arguments on the merits.

With that introduction, I want to address this week’s topic: davening in shul. This is not a halachic discussion—just my personal observations of what I have seen in various shuls over the years.

One of the daily responsibilities of a man is to daven with a minyan three times a day. When you have to say Kaddish, your entire day revolves around that. In a city like New York, and in a community like Kew Gardens Hills, finding a minyan is never an issue. The downside is that it becomes something we take for granted. When you have to work to put together a minyan, it becomes more meaningful.

I have been to shuls that are deserted a minute before davening begins and again the moment it ends. In one minyan, a third of the people walk out before or during the first post-tefilah Tehillim, and another third before or during the second Tehillim. It seems that no one wants to spend a moment longer in shul than absolutely necessary. If that’s the attitude, then it’s no wonder we are not davening with the level of feeling we should have. It becomes just another chore of the day.

Then there are those who consistently come late—morning, afternoon, and night. If that is simply their personality, there may be some excuse. But if they are punctual in other areas of their lives, such as work, events, or activities they enjoy, then their lateness to shul says something troubling: that davening is not important, that it feels like a burden, and that they would rather not be there at all.

Some of these latecomers even complain that the minyan is going too fast. But how can you take someone seriously when they show up late? If you want to daven slowly, then at least arrive on time. Nothing is stopping them from coming a few minutes earlier, starting on their own, and then joining the congregation for the important parts.

There are also latecomers who refuse to skip. They are technically davening at a minyan, but not with a minyan. They are reciting one section while the congregation is doing something entirely different.

We live in a pluralistic society, and the Jewish community reflects that. When I was growing up, everyone in the Ashkenazi minyan was Ashkenazi. Today, it’s rare to find a completely homogeneous minyan, whether nusach Ashkenaz or nusach Sephard. It’s one thing to follow your own nusach privately, but I have seen it done publicly. For example, it is common for Sephardim saying Kaddish to add additional words, even in an Ashkenazi or nusach Sephard shul. That is a complicated halachic issue. But more troubling was something I saw in one shul: a Sephardi davening for the amud who added the extra Sephardic words into the communal Kaddish. If you are the representative of the minyan, you should follow the minhag of that minyan. As the saying goes: “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

In a similar vein, I have seen people whose custom is not to say “Anim Zemiros” on Shabbos get up and walk out during that tefilah. The ark is open at that time, and respect should be shown not only to the congregation but also to the Torah that is visible. In another shul, you could tell a person’s background based on who would leave before or during “Adon Olam” on Friday night. I understand it may not be your custom to say “Adon Olam” then, but if you’re in a shul that does, the respectful thing is to sit quietly until it ends.

Then there are those who use their phones in shul. How can one expect to have any feeling in davening while looking at a phone? The temptation is strong, so my suggestion is not to bring your phone into shul if possible, or at least shut it off before walking in. Maybe shuls should have a basket where people can drop their phones when they come to daven. An added benefit: it prevents phones from ringing during davening—a distraction that, in some shuls, happens almost daily.

A shul is a place to go to daven and to come closer to hashem—not a place to hang out with friends, talk about sports, or joke around. Levity has no place during tefilah.

If we truly believed we were standing before hashem, we would be more careful in our dress as well. If you had a meeting at the White House with President Trump, would you show up in shorts and a T-shirt with writing on it?

We live in a fast-paced world filled with distractions. It is hard to focus on our prayers. But we have to begin somewhere. If we find ourselves engaging in any of the behaviors listed above, making the effort to change them would be a good place to start.


Warren S. Hecht is a local attorney. He can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.