A Modest Proposal
If your fava beans have not been skinned, soak them in cold water to cover for at least 12 hours. Drain and rub the skins off with your fingers. Favas cook quickly, so you might want to open the Chianti at this point, giving it ample time to breathe . . .
No, not really.
Early in 2004 the Wall Street Journal published an article about the growing demand for "bar mitzvah" parties by non-Jewish tweens in America. The Jewish community, never at a loss for words, let out a great cry: "How dare they steal and cheapen our traditions? Can't they think of their own coming of age ceremony? They're going to reduce the bar mitzvah to nothing but an expensive ego-fest for newly minted teenagers, devoid of all meaning and, and, um."
And then the Jewish community suddenly remembered that it had forgotten something in its car and had to leave the conversation early. Because really, where do you think our Gentile neighbors got this crazy idea about the meaning of a bar mitzvah? Yep. Another triumph for Operation Or Lagoyim.*
First, if I'm going to write about the meaning of a bar mitzvah, I should talk about the meaning of "bar mitzvah." (Everyone follow that?) It's a term that combines Aramaic and Hebrew, and can be translated literally as "son of a commandment"** and contextually as "one who is obligated to the Commandments." The reason I want to clarify this is that a lot of people think that (1) there is a "bar mitzvah ceremony," and that (2) undergoing this ceremony has some intrinsic effect on a person as a functioning Jew. Please take my word as a trainee Leader of the Jewish People: neither of these statements is true. A bar mitzvah isn't an event, it's a person who is Jewish, male and at least 13 years old.
(I am fully aware that there is such a thing as a "bat mitzvah," and I am just as adamant about getting people to use that phrase correctly. Please don't think I'm ignoring women or women's roles in contemporary Judaism. I prefer to work with traditional language not because of any political or personal bias, but because Semitic languages are even less suited to dealing with gender neutrality than the Germanic language that I speak.*** Okay, move along. That's all the apologetic I've got for now.)
The time when a boy becomes a bar mitzvah is traditionally (in the fairly ancient sense) marked by his leading services and being called to the Torah on the first appropriate day following his coming of age.**** It is also traditionally (in a far more recent and culturally specific sense) marked by a huge and embarrassingly expensive affair involving lots of food, professional dancers (optional, but strongly advised), the Electric Slide, and way too many 12 and 13 year old boys believing that they do not, in fact, come across as a bunch of preternaturally short and hairless Neanderthals in blue blazers. This usually happens right after the religious bit is over, and in more traditional communities sometimes involves taking the festivities elsewhere so as not to break various bylaws of the hosting synagogue.
A friend of mine put it very nicely: Your average bar mitzvah is a way to announce that one is a man while sending the very clear message that one is still a kid.† I know that there will be no abolishing this mess. For many people, the party is the coming of age, and no amount of ranting or reasoning will change that. Even if it could, the kids would still want it. No, the party will stay until sociology sends it somewhere else.
Instead of declaring war on the bar mitzvah party, I propose that we push it up a month. This would work on the same logic as a bachelor party, but without the strippers††: A bash before finally settling down. With the social pressures and financial struggles of the conspicuous 12.92nd birthday celebration out of the way, the synagogue service could stand on its own without having to compete for attention. That month could be spent on a sort of light contemplation. (I won't ask too much; I may be a stodgy, overzealous critic, but I know what it means to be 12.) Maybe we could start a tradition of taking that time to write a list of things one will do differently upon reaching adulthood, in consultation with clergy and/or one's parents. Wouldn't that be nice?
I look forward to any obsequiety (or criticism) you may wish to offer.
* Hebrew: "a light unto the nations." See chapter 60 of Isaiah for context.
** Useful if you ever need a lame and/or weird insult devoid of profanity.
*** I also had many more male than female friends at the age when one attends a lot of these things, and I did not have many male friends who had many female friends, so I happen to know more about the boy-heavy parties than the other kind. On those recent occasions when I've encountered the other sort of party, my first reaction has been to think that I, as a grown man, ought to be arrested for seeing 12 year old girls dressed that way.
**** That is, the next Monday, Thursday, Saturday or holiday, on which days there is a public Torah reading.
† Said friend shall remain anonymous unless she chooses not to do so.
†† I have to wonder if the difference would be observable. See ***.
No, not really.
Early in 2004 the Wall Street Journal published an article about the growing demand for "bar mitzvah" parties by non-Jewish tweens in America. The Jewish community, never at a loss for words, let out a great cry: "How dare they steal and cheapen our traditions? Can't they think of their own coming of age ceremony? They're going to reduce the bar mitzvah to nothing but an expensive ego-fest for newly minted teenagers, devoid of all meaning and, and, um."
And then the Jewish community suddenly remembered that it had forgotten something in its car and had to leave the conversation early. Because really, where do you think our Gentile neighbors got this crazy idea about the meaning of a bar mitzvah? Yep. Another triumph for Operation Or Lagoyim.*
First, if I'm going to write about the meaning of a bar mitzvah, I should talk about the meaning of "bar mitzvah." (Everyone follow that?) It's a term that combines Aramaic and Hebrew, and can be translated literally as "son of a commandment"** and contextually as "one who is obligated to the Commandments." The reason I want to clarify this is that a lot of people think that (1) there is a "bar mitzvah ceremony," and that (2) undergoing this ceremony has some intrinsic effect on a person as a functioning Jew. Please take my word as a trainee Leader of the Jewish People: neither of these statements is true. A bar mitzvah isn't an event, it's a person who is Jewish, male and at least 13 years old.
(I am fully aware that there is such a thing as a "bat mitzvah," and I am just as adamant about getting people to use that phrase correctly. Please don't think I'm ignoring women or women's roles in contemporary Judaism. I prefer to work with traditional language not because of any political or personal bias, but because Semitic languages are even less suited to dealing with gender neutrality than the Germanic language that I speak.*** Okay, move along. That's all the apologetic I've got for now.)
The time when a boy becomes a bar mitzvah is traditionally (in the fairly ancient sense) marked by his leading services and being called to the Torah on the first appropriate day following his coming of age.**** It is also traditionally (in a far more recent and culturally specific sense) marked by a huge and embarrassingly expensive affair involving lots of food, professional dancers (optional, but strongly advised), the Electric Slide, and way too many 12 and 13 year old boys believing that they do not, in fact, come across as a bunch of preternaturally short and hairless Neanderthals in blue blazers. This usually happens right after the religious bit is over, and in more traditional communities sometimes involves taking the festivities elsewhere so as not to break various bylaws of the hosting synagogue.
A friend of mine put it very nicely: Your average bar mitzvah is a way to announce that one is a man while sending the very clear message that one is still a kid.† I know that there will be no abolishing this mess. For many people, the party is the coming of age, and no amount of ranting or reasoning will change that. Even if it could, the kids would still want it. No, the party will stay until sociology sends it somewhere else.
Instead of declaring war on the bar mitzvah party, I propose that we push it up a month. This would work on the same logic as a bachelor party, but without the strippers††: A bash before finally settling down. With the social pressures and financial struggles of the conspicuous 12.92nd birthday celebration out of the way, the synagogue service could stand on its own without having to compete for attention. That month could be spent on a sort of light contemplation. (I won't ask too much; I may be a stodgy, overzealous critic, but I know what it means to be 12.) Maybe we could start a tradition of taking that time to write a list of things one will do differently upon reaching adulthood, in consultation with clergy and/or one's parents. Wouldn't that be nice?
I look forward to any obsequiety (or criticism) you may wish to offer.
* Hebrew: "a light unto the nations." See chapter 60 of Isaiah for context.
** Useful if you ever need a lame and/or weird insult devoid of profanity.
*** I also had many more male than female friends at the age when one attends a lot of these things, and I did not have many male friends who had many female friends, so I happen to know more about the boy-heavy parties than the other kind. On those recent occasions when I've encountered the other sort of party, my first reaction has been to think that I, as a grown man, ought to be arrested for seeing 12 year old girls dressed that way.
**** That is, the next Monday, Thursday, Saturday or holiday, on which days there is a public Torah reading.
† Said friend shall remain anonymous unless she chooses not to do so.
†† I have to wonder if the difference would be observable. See ***.
posted by Lawrence | 10:30 PM
12 Comments:
** Useful if you ever need a lame and/or weird insult devoid of profanity.
Now, that would depend on the commandment, wouldn't it?
Ooh. Good point.
The problem with the bachelor party analogy is that people under the age of puberty don't do anything socially that they're going to miss not being able to do as they get older. It's exactly what they're looking forward to in becoming an adult, especially if those are the sort of parties their parents are accustomed to throw.
That said, a month of contemplation is not a bad idea by itself. I suppose they could still plan to give up things like punching their siblings.
I was going for something a little more metaphysical than stuff you won't be allowed to do after X date. My idea has more to do with a subtle shift in the way a kid things of him/herself, and what behavior befits that self-perception.
Of course, a kid from an observant family could spend all of one Shabbat lighting fires, since it would be the last time he could lay the aveirah it on his parents. :)
Isn't that within the window in which they could have him stoned?
Yes, but not for lighting fires so as to get them in trouble. That law has a dizzying array of specifying particulars in place to make sure it's never actually enforced.
Maybe we could start a tradition of taking that time to write a list of things one will do differently upon reaching adulthood, in consultation with clergy and/or one's parents. Wouldn't that be nice?
I doubt it would have any effect. I can't count how many times I've heard the "now I am becoming a man" and "now I am an adult Jew with all the responsibilities..." speech, and then not seen the kid set foot in a shul again.
But did those kids' families go to shul regularly in the first place? I'm not expecting to perform miracles here, and if observance isn't important to the family then it's not likely to be important to the kid, at least until he goes to college and follows a crush to the local Chabad house.
I don't think it's important that the list be meant for public consumption. It might actually be better if it weren't. Let the kid be honest with himself about his personal expectations, which aren't necessarily going to involve much halakhic observance. I think a certain degree of privacy might help there.
(I'm also not married to this particular practice. It was just an idea.)
I like your phrasing on the "almost-unclad-bnot-mitzvah-or-their
-friends" issue. I tend to gripe about this myself- especially the girl who, from what I could see of her above the back of the bench when we were both sitting down, appeared to be unclad. I don't care about their standards of modesty in general, but I've always had this sense that a prayer space should be respected...
Interesting and of course accurate observations, although I'm not sure that cutting away the party would actually lead to a more reflective bar mitzvah experience.
I'm currently working with a secular bar mitzvah kid and we're crafting a ceremony to reflect the family's secular values and ethnic connection to Judaism. To do so we're reading stories from various historical epochs in Jewish history (e.g., David ve-Goliyat, Maccabees, Legends of the Jews, Bialik, etc.) and considering a question that the kid is interested in, namely, what's worth fighting and dying for. (The kid loves history and even has a favorite war, and it's not what you'd expect.) Along the way we're going to create a meaningful bar mitzvah speech based on his readings and our conversations, considering that topic and how it relates to growing up.
Now, it's not all rosy. The kid still wants a big flashy party (b/c that's what his "religious" friends had) while his dad wants something more modest. I'm sure a compromise will get worked out somehow. But hopefully, instead of a performance, this bar mitzvah will attempt to be something meaningful, and actually have involved some thought about what it means to become "obligated" in adult responsibilities, through the lens of considering an important question that comes up in real life.
It's ironic that my supposedly "secular" kid is going be actualizing more of the values encoded by this halakha than those who have more halakhically-oriented ceremonies. (But that leads to my rant against meaningless formalism/traditionalism, and this isn't the forum! :-) )
See, that's why women need to wear tallitot.
Anonymous: Fascinating developments, for sure. Which war is it (if you don't mind saying)?
I have no problem with the general subject of your rant. I'm against meaningless formalism myself, though my approach is usually to read new meaning into ritual rather than to abolish it.
Fleur de Lis XXVIII: The tallit gadol was originally an ordinary article of clothing. Unfortunately, any attmpt to make it so again would probably result in translucent or outright transparent tallitot, or draping styles designed to reveal as much skin as possible. Or perhaps I'm just a cynic.
Post a Comment
<< Home