Hazzan Dulkin

I love niggunim – wordless melodies.After a service a number of years ago, at which I (as usual) incorporated many niggunim, a kid came up to me and called me a liar. A liar? I asked, racking my brain for what I had said. Yeah, he said, you know, because you go lai lai lai lai lai

Yes, I am a lai-er from way back. I collect tunes like some collect baseball cards, paper clips, or ceramic figurines. I have a library in my head of probably close to a hundred wordless melodies by now, and they pop into my head at all times of day or night. They function as mood- or tone-setters, spiritual set-dressers, focusing us on the simple act of kavannah, or devotion.

What is the point of the niggun? What is its power? And why do we need them, anyway? The Zohar, a seminal mystical text, tells us that In the highest heavens, there is a certain temple with gates that can be opened only by the power of song. As Hasidism developed and flourished in Eastern Europe during the 18th century, niggun was a powerful piece of the movement, which, guided by the Zohar and other mystical teachings, strove to cleave the soul to God at all times. If people didn’t know Hebrew, or the prayers, or even how to read, it was the niggun, with its simple syllables of oy yoy bam bam or lai lai that became the universal accessible instrument of prayer; a way of transcending earthly concerns and connecting to the divine. There are certain niggunim meant to inspire dveykut (cleaving), others to reach a state of ecstasy, and others to awaken the soul. Many are complex compositions in their own right, where, with each musical stanza, one is to achieve a higher level of ecstasy, cleaving, or awakening, then always, ultimately, the tune brings the supplicant back down to earth.

Niggunim set a mood for prayer much in the same way a piece of scenery on stage evokes a place or time. A few notes can evoke a memory or transport you to a different place. Niggun is an invitation to travel inward, to cease to focus on the siddur or the people around you, and simply be. A few syllables or notes, sung over and over, function like a mantra. An entire paragraph of prayer, or an entire bracha, become distilled into sound, breath, syllable: essence. The idea is, as one continues to sing a niggun, one becomes less and less self-conscious of what is immediately around them, and the tune itself, and begins to experience a deeper and more personal form of prayer.

In addition to being a companion to, or an enhancement of tefillot , niggunim are an accessible form of music for singers and non-singers alike, and can be used in a variety of contexts. Many niggunim are as accessible musically as they are linguistically, which makes them great community-builders. And niggunim are portable: no siddur, songsheet, or sheet music required! As a part of our Legacy Heritage Ruach Amcha project, everyone in the synagogue (and anyone outside the shul who subscribes) will become an automatic member of the niggun of the month club. Beginning in January, you will receive via email, a link to the niggun of the month, which you can play on your computer, burn to CD, and transfer to your iPods the idea is to use the niggun of the month during services, meetings, Religious School, Pre-school, at home, at work, and even while exercising! The following month, a new niggun will be released to the club and so on. At year’s end, a CD of all the niggunim will be available.

What would happen if we were all singing the same song, during the same period of time? Each niggun will become our monthly soundtrack in shul, at home, and out in the world. What else might happen? We will find out, come January. In the meantime, I look forward to the day when we all will become lai-ers.