It was a Torah lesson on Track 13-W. And none of the “teachers” were Jewish.

Settling into my seat, I barely heard the two women, 20’ish, speaking across the aisle from each other, one row in front of me, on a southbound Amtrak train, in the second-last car from the rear, one recent afternoon. But a woman in a seat behind them did. “This is a Quiet Car," she said firmly but kindly, pointing to one of the ubiquitous signs in the Amtrak car that designated that venue as a respite from cellphone conversations or discussions between seatmates that can be overheard by other travelers. "You can't talk so loudly that other people can hear you,” she added, making her point clear – she had heard them.

In the ensuing silence, my mind drifted to synagogue -  to several synagogues where I have prayed.

How many times, I thought, have I witnessed people (primarily men, because that is the section of shul in which I always sit) talking loudly and disturbingly in violation of fellow worshipers' kavana and the shul's unwritten and often-written (posted in conspicuous Hebrew signs) warnings about the halachic impropriety and derech-eretz implications of talking during times of Shemoneh Esrei, leining of the Torah and other times when spoken interruptions are inappropriate. The signs don't work.

What's the difference between Amtrak’s Northeast Regional and our congregation? Why do

Amtrak passengers obey, literally without a peep (my experience aside, you rarely hear an out-of-line sound in the Quiet Car), especially when corrected?

Many explanations come to mind: A shul is the daveners’ home, they’re not guests, they determine what goes. The people shushing them are friends, who can be ignored, unlike the strangers sharing a train coach. The people doing the talking aren’t necessarily interested in the worship experience of the morning in shul, unlike the shushers. Away from work, the talkers aren’t about to take orders from anyone; they resent the challenge to their machismo. Davening is long, especially on Shabbat and Yom Tov, and maintaining one’s level of concentration for several hours can be a challenge. There’s no penalty for out-of-place talking – no one’s likely to be asked to leave. Basically, they talk because they don’t think about the wider ethical implications of illicit words, and they know they can get away with it.

Unlike the situation on Amtrak, where Quiet Car talking is not an assertion of one-upmanship.

Common courtesy dictates that one should be still when any noise distracts others. Halacha sets higher standards; our prayers should be audible to ourselves – and to G-d – but not to the person standing next to us. Besides being rude and contrary to Jewish law, talking when silence should prevail undoubtedly hinders one's kavana. How many of us have the power of concentration to focus fully on our tefillot when our neighbors in the pews are talking about the stock market, the previous night's ballgame, their kids, their upcoming trip to Eretz Yisroel or other sundry matters best left for Kiddush time, over a plate of kugel?

The problem is that minyanim frequented by talkers tend to be friendly, welcoming minyanim, where people feel at home. They’re the minyanim someone would want to join. On the other hand, the quieter minyanim are, I have found, largely cold and unwelcoming. In the former, a stranger is likely to be approached by the regulars, offered a tallit or an aliyah or a Shabbos meal invitation; in the latter, you’re more likely to be ignored. The friendliness, which is laudable, breeds the comfort to talk. The challenge is to combine the best of both worlds.

Amtrak has the right idea – there’s a time and place for friendly conversation, but a Quiet Car and a

minyan are not the place; a minyan certainly is not the time. Maybe we don't need rabbis to enforce decorum in shul. Maybe we should invite some Amtrak conductors and passengers to our minyanim.

All aboard?

(Excerpted from “How to End Talking in Shul: A New Training-ing Technique” by Steve Lipman.
Full article available at: https://www.jewishideas.org/node/2726/pdf)