To paraphrase a lot, two of the things that the First Amendment guarantees are freedom of speech and freedom of religion.
Normally, those things go hand-in-hand. But sometimes, practicing your religion means shutting the hell up. I'm not getting political. I'm getting well-mannered on your asses. And despite the context of this column, this isn't just directed toward Jews. It's directed toward anyone who goes to a place of worship, ever.
You see, today is Yom Kippur. Many Jews would tell you that Yom Kippur is the holiest day of the year. It's a day to be respected, to be taken seriously. So seriously that healthy, "adult" Jews are called upon to fast from sunset on Erev Yom Kippur to sunset on Yom Kippur. (Jewish holidays always go sunset to sunset. The "Erev" means the same thing as "Eve.") The strictly religious (which I am not, by the way) don't even permit showering or tooth-brushing; even a glass of water is taboo.
Which is why you should not be chewing gum during Kol Nidre services. The prayers start and the fast begins. Swallow that gum or spit it out. Even if you're not fasting, you need, very much, to respect that most of the people around you are and not sit in services smacking your gum. I promise, you'll last the ninety minutes. Sure, gum isn't technically food. But if God doesn't want you to brush your teeth, I'm fairly certain he doesn't want you to be chewing Double Mint. At least, not while he—and everyone else—is watching.
More etiquette for places of worship after the jump...
That's not even the First Amendment thing. That's just a "Phillyist hates people who are rude" thing. Here's the First Amendment thing. It is absolutely your right, both as human beings and under the Bill of Rights, to talk freely whenever and about whatever you choose. But, that doesn't mean it's appropriate. When you are in a place of worship, and a few hundred people around you are praying for atonement, you should not be carrying on your own personal conversations. You can ask what page to turn to in The Gates of Repentance; you can even comment on things like "I've never heard the Shema sung to that melody;" if you're coming in late, you can say "excuse me" as you climb over a person's feet to get to the available seats in the middle of the row. But you cannot, in the middle of the Kol Nidre (a prayer so nice they do it thrice), start bitching about how you want to sit down already. Especially if you don't look a day over twenty and the octogenarian couple who came in in wheelchairs have managed to stand up and support themselves on the pew in front of them. This is once a year. Complain after, but don't interrupt the prayers of those around you.
Sermon time isn't gossip time. Just because the rabbi isn't leading prayers doesn't mean that he's not saying something relevant. During last night's services, a woman took it upon herself to talk through the entire sermon. Not loudly, but since the room is pretty much acoustically perfect, her volume didn't matter much. I wasn't the only person who noticed. In the end, I don't think many people in the back, oh, fifteen rows, could tell you what the sermon was about; they were too distracted by the woman who felt it wasn't important.
One last thing, and this bugs me as much outside of the theatre as it does inside of it. If you've got to leave early, please do it discreetly. Sure, most of the prayers have been said, and services are starting to feel a little long, but would it kill you to listen to ten minutes worth of announcements? You might actually learn something. Like where to score a free break-the-fast meal. If you have to—really have to—leave, you should do it discreetly between speakers, and not while they're speaking. If you're sitting in the center of your row, you should make sure you have all of your belongings together before you stand up, and then you should exit quickly, trying not to step on the toes of others in the aisles, saying "excuse me," but also trying not to say "excuse me" so loudly that it takes attention away from the pulpit. You might not care that the fast ends tonight at exactly 7:23 p.m., but other people may want to hear that information.
This is a holiday all about repentance. When you apologize—to God, or to a person you feel you may have wronged over the course of the last year—you are asking, not just for forgiveness, but for respect. So it seems a little odd to disrespect so many people before the holiday's truly started, doesn't it?
Image via Jewish Australia.

Across the Ist-a-Verse


If Phillyist has a "hates people who are rude thing" I do have to ask why Phillyist lives in the rudest city in the United States?
Stop bitiching and move to Brooklyn or Omaha or some other polite place.
Couple of reasons. (1) Got one helluva education here. (2) Have a job here that I can't just up and leave. (3) Have a bunch of great friends who actually aren't rude. (4) Actually like the city, and have great faith that if people realize they're being rude, they might make an effort to correct it. Works elsewhere.
And Brooklyn? Are you serious?