Everybody Sing!
It was something many of us at Bnai Israel had wanted for quite sometime - A Carlbach Shabbos. The idea was simple. Some people from the Carlbach Shull in New York would come to Norfolk and lead the community in a "Carlbach Shabbos" with lots of singing and stories.

Rabbi Friedman, a consumate musician felt it was important to prepare the congregation for this event, so in the few Shabboses beforehand, he carefully explained the mistakes we were making when we sang some of Reb Shlomo Carlbach's tunes in our usual Shabbos davening. He even got us to practice at Shalosh Seudos.  When it came time for the Carlbach Shabbos, we were ready. We new how Reb Shlomo's songs were sung and we were ready to join in, even to harmonize.

...and the Carlbach contingent came from New York. They told stories. They led our davening.

And they made all the same mistakes that we as a congregation had been making all along. Some of us laughed. Some of us planted our faces into our palms. Most of us probably didn't notice. The rest of the Shabbos was (I'm being a little bold by saying this, but I'll say it) a little disappointing. The stories of Reb Shlomo were just a little too effusive and filled with hyperbole about how great he was. 

He was great - and he was great for many reasons, so it was hard to listen to people over-hype him.

For all it's ups and downs, the Carlbach Shabbos had one permanent imprint on Bnai Israel. From it we adopted the tradition to sing entirely two of the psalms in the Kabbalas Shabbos service. It was a welcome addition and it energizes our congregation to this day.

So, what happened? Why were the people from the Carlbach Shull (dare I say) a little bit off?

Here's my best guess. Music is an expression of emotion. It's all about feeling. At the same time, it's a science - a science that's difficult to master. So, there are two ways to interface with music - technically and emotionally. Ultimately, we'd all like to experience music both ways, Most of us, however, lack the ear to attain technical proficiency. That just leaves our feelings. When we pour our heart and soul into the music, it creates something special. When our music is our davening, it means we're also pouring our heart and soul into our davening. Getting emotionally vested in prayer is a requirement. Reaching that emotional attachment through the music is a wonderful way to do it.

So why should we even strive for technical proficiency, then? Because - when everyone sings the right note at the right time, it ceases to be a solo act and becomes an orchestra. Add harmonies to the mix and it can be a sublime experience. If everyone sings in their own key, at their own tempo, what you have is not a symphony - it's a cacaphony.

The lesson has probably become obvious by now, but I'll spell it out anyway. The divine presense rests upon those who pray together as a Minyon, not those who pray individually. I would like to propose that HaShem wants to hear more than just ten-plus people in one room, doing their own thing. He wants to hear them daven together - in the same key, at the same tempo, at the same volume.

Sure, the guys from the Carlbach Shull understood that Reb Shlomo was full of love and had a lot of great music. They just didn't quite understand that we all need to approach the music together. We need to work at it, and thereby work at our davening until we, too, are a great symphony.