The job of the Reverend: a) See, Listen, Observe b) Think it through and take advice, c) Only then choose between Taking action - or leave it: Pick your fights...
During the Kidush: As a feminist, she wouldn't come to Shul: Backstage
Shabbos morning: Harvey: We should include te ladies in the Minyan! Why are there 11 players in a football team?
Purim evening: Peter: Pray for us! Rabbi (panicking): What happened, is someone sick at home? Peter: Nah, kick off is in half an hour.
Raphael's written compaint: "I have been repeatedly assigned to read passages from the Torah that describe the killing of animals, specifically because the rabbi is aware that I am vegetarian and find such content distressing. When I have struggled with these passages, the rabbi has emphasised the details further, in a way that feels targeted rather than educational".
Gabbai: This is not our Nussaf (instead of Nusach...)
Stephen: Asher Bochar Bonu Mikol - FULL STOP (as he reached the end of the line) and then Ho'amim Venossan Lonu es Toroso".
Chossid: "Why did you Daven at the place of the Goyim?" Me: "Because they did not have a Minyan on Friday evening." Chossid: "But the whole reason why they come is not because they want to come; only because their father used to go to SHul and take them along, so they are merely continuing this tradition. They themselves are not really interested!". Me: "And so are you...". Chosid: "......" (= deafening silence...
Natalie: How may we eat yellow cheese that was formed by mixing it with animal rennet; is it not mixing meat and milk?"
Tommy is sitting all through Davening, even when the Chazan takes the Safer Torah round before Leyning. Tommy complaints of a bad leg, which prevents him from standing... until he needs to say the Prayer for the Royal Family and EVERYONE has to stand: Tommy bellows "Prayer for the Royal Family" and if even one person is still found seated, Tommy raises his voice and says again: "Prayer for the Royal Family!". Now wait for the Kiddush: Tommy suddenly forgets about his ailing foot and scurries around, pushing tables and pulling chairs, carrying two-liter bottles of drink and dishing out disposable plates filled with food...
The Chazzan coes to the Amud with a coffee in one hand and his Siddur in the other... Every page or two throughout Pesukey deZimrah he sips from his drink, tells the page number he's at and then continues to Daven...
Here in this Shul I'm the ba'al kery...
Is there any Levy in the Shul? = a Lady?!
This is the Shul without a flock . . . I came into Shul on Shabbos morning and wanted to know what time it is. As I was scanning the walls, my frustration grew since I couldn't find it! The early risers watched me looking for something, with my head tilted upwards, so when I asked them - half in jest, half with alarm: "Is this the Shul without a clock?", one good soul pointed to the west-facing wall and said: The clock is on that wall, just beneath the women's gallery. As I read the time, another member piped up and said in an audible sigh: "This is the Sul without a flock!". He explained that the younger generation is moving to the Greater London suburb.
We finished reading Parashas Shekolim and Gerry - the 96-year old member of the our Shul - pipes up from his wheelchair seat: "How did they pay their dues in those days of the desert - they didn't have a penny to their name and anyhow, who knew at the time what a Shekel is, when these coins were invented in Roman times!? When the Rabbi opened a Mishnayos and showed the English text to Gerry, where it clearly explains how the Shekel is calculated, from days of yore until current times, he sneered at the Rabbi and said
Gerry was sitting at the Kidush and we discussed a Bris. He derided the whole idea of circumcising an eight-day old boy (whilst he was brissedat the same age), since we only know that three angels - one of them G-d almighty himself disguised as an angel - visited Abraham in the heat of the day and he was then told to circumcise himself, his servants and his children. . .
When teaching about Eruv Tavshilin, one congregant piped up: "A very religious neighbour of mine told me in the name of his even-more-religious-Rabbi that - in order to be able to carry from one flat to another on in our block of flats, all I had to do was to place a plate with a Challoh and a boiled egg on the window sill in the communal area". Another question: After finishing the explanation about the Eruv, one question popped up: Aren't the Frummes against the Eruv?!
After spending so much time to convince a Kohen to come for Duchening, we gave him the first Aliyah and when it came to Musaph, the warden adamantly refused to allow the Duchening, on the grounds that "Our Minhag in this Shul is that - when Yontef falls on a Shabbos - there is no Duchening!". Since I was tired from the exercise to bring this Kohen, I prevailed upon the warden to allow it - just this time, so as not to inflict pain on the Kohen for coming all the way in vain. Turns out that the warden confused saying the Yehi Rotzon during the Duchening (when the Kohanim sing) and the whole of Duchening . . .
The difference between Chassidim travelling to the Rebbe for Yontef and Anglo-Jewry flocking to football stadia: The first are Oleh Regel whilst the latter are Oleh Kaduregel . . .
When the Chazan finished Shacharis on the second day Yontef of Shovuos, the time came to say Megillas Ruth, only that the warden maintained that "Our Shul's Minhag is to leave the reading of Megillas Ruth for when we arrive home and not during the Davening". At this point, I turned around an asked: So is this the Ruthless Shul?
Warden: "When the doors of the Harem Kodesh are open, one should stand".
We were on our way to the holy land and it was a day after Rosh HaShanah. I managed to recite Selichos on the Picaddily line and - even the long-winded Piyutim of Tzom Gedalyah couldn't compete with the chugging tube wagon. When we finally arrived at Heathrow, I was anxious to clear the security clearance area, so that we could reach the boarding area and find a spot to Daven Shacharis. Sure enough, as we approached the gate, there was an empty patch between the Claw Machine and the other vending machine. Before I made a beeline for it, I told my to take her place in line and - as the queue was mving ever so slowly - I shall be back before the half an hour of estimated waiting time for reaching the boarding desk will be over. My Davening went quite speedy and when I finished, I noticed my wife moving along the trail of co-passengers, so I made my way there, still wrapped in my Tallis and Tefillin. The problem I now had was: How do I explain to the people in the queue that I really belong with my wife. So I approached the man standing behind her and said - loud enough so the rest of the people behind him could also hear: I'm still tied up at the moment - pointing out to my Tefillin - and edging myself into position. The guy has been chatting to my wife until now and - when he heard me explaining why I look so untidy - he piped up: "When I was a teenager, my father always used to ask me when I was a boy: Do you have time To Fill In?". I stopped in my tracks, as this was an ear-opener question! Wow! I thought and then told my newly-found friend: "This is a winner! Now let me see if I can better that". I asked him: "What is the earlies sport in history of mankind?". He looked at me in total bewilderment and scratched his occiput... "Wrestling" he finally said - referring to Cain and Abel. I told him in no uncertain terms that he is wrong! After half a minute, it looked like he conceded defeat and asked me to to tell him, so I told him it was Cricket. Now he became totally disoriented! The people waiting behind him were watching how a youngster like me is having a go at this white heared septuagenarian and waited for the punchline. I then told him a clue: The Torah starts with Bereshis, which in English reads like "In the beginning". He was still befuddled so I read it to him s l o w l y: "In the Big Inning". He started giggling politely and this was the end of it - or so I thought! After queuing up for another tow minutes, all the while shuffling my luggage along on the carpet and trying to arrange my Tallis and Tefillin into their respective bags, he tapped me on my shoulder and half-begging he asked me - with a look of concern on his visage - "please can you explain the joke to me?". The real laughter emanated from his mouth, now that he understood this oh-so intricate joke. After all, he himself admitted that - although heis cousin is a Rabbi somewhere in Greater London, he himself lives in the outskirts of Manchester.
A couple of weeks later, I was back in London and during my weekly Shiur at my little Shul, I decided to tell the story and then I posed the above question "What is the first sport mentioned in the Torah?". There were about half a dozen attendants, amongst them people who never opened a Chumash, let alone delved into its treasures. After a couple of attempts by the listeners ("Archery"), one older Shul member pipes up: "The first sport in history is Cricket". I was floored, I mean - out of all these ignorami - how did he hit gold?! I asked him in astonishment: "Mark! How on earth do you know the answer?!". Mark, in his non-chalant way of speaking, answered: "Ian Botham (England's highest Test wicket-taker) used to say that".
The Chazan started with Birchos haShachar: Hanosen laSechvy Vino..., She-osany Goy, She-osany Oved, She-osany Isho, without batting an eyelid . . .
The Chazan started with Birchos haShachar: Hanosen laSechvy Vino..., She-osany Kirtzono and then he heard the people behind him protesting, so he quickly said: Oh no, Shelo osany Kirtzono but then the people behind him protested again so he then said: Oh no, She-osany Isho and by the fourth try he found his balance and said: Oh no, Shelo Osany Isho . . .
Q. Why is Pesach called "Passover" in the English language?
A. Because some Jews - for example, British citizens of the Jewish creed, who consider themselves to British first and Jew second . . . - want this Yontef to be paased over already . . .
One Shabbos morning, during the 2026 FA World Cup, one of the seniors in the Shul approached me, with concern plastered all over his face. He asked me in the most serious manner to "put in a good word for us". I aksed him "is everything alright?", to which he responded: "What do you mena - Kick off is tonight!". They won . . . .
