People like to kvetch about the extravagance of weddings, bar mitzvahs, and other life-cycle events in the Jewish community. When it becomes real, though, doing your own thing is harder than it looks.
We just celebrated our son’s bar mitzvah, our third so far, and I have been thinking about why people do what they do and sometimes go overboard.
I’ve been recovering from jetlag, getting my apartment painted, and planning my son’s Bar Mitzvah. It looks like we are down to 35 for Shabbat.
Rabbi Cherlow wants to make Orthodox synagogues more female-friendly.
Read more on Friday Links: Women and Shul, Bar Mitzvahs, KCC, and More…
These are my youngest children, upon our return from Shabbat in Jerusalem. We hoped for a bit of touring but had just enough time to get to the Kotel Friday afternoon. At night we ate at one brother-in-law and his young family. In the morning we walked from Katamon (Srugim territory) to Baka for our friends’ son’s Bar Mitzvah. After lunch, my friend invited us to her house. Since I didn’t want to walk back in the midday sun, I stayed with the younger kids while my husband and eldest son went back to sleep. Her invitation ties into a discussion I had last week about the obligations of hosts of smachot like weddings and bar mitzvahs to pay attention to their guests. My friend certainly fulfilled this one, both at shul and afterward. We talked semi-privately for several hours while the kids played with the family’s amazing assortment of games. Mazal tov to E. and family on the Bar Mitzvah–he’s a terrific kid!
The shul had a program for preschoolers. My 12-year-old son was with my youngest, but called me to take over so he could go into shul; my daughter didn’t want to stay by herself. After a while he came back and offered to take over during the drasha. After confirming that he wished to return for mussaf, I told him I would stay with her. I missed the end of shul but since I sat from barchu through the bar-mitzvah boy’s clear and confident rendition of the parsha and haftara, I can’t complain. Before going back up my son offered me some of the Hershey’s chocolate he had collected from the candy-throwing. (I still have some; don’t tell my kids.) Now that’s what I call kibud em (honoring your mother).
My husband picked us up at around 5 (he didn’t mind all the walking) and we stopped by an old friend, who sat with us in a park and walked us back to where we were staying. My 4yo napped in my husband’s arms most of the way. When we arrived I was too tired even to walk up the stairs, so I waited on a bench until we walked back to brother-in-law 2 for seudah shlishit.
Brother-in-law 1′s apartment was spacious and accommodating. His landlords live in the US and only use it for vacations. We appreciate the fact that both of the brothers are renting in such a great location and seemed happy for us to “invade” for Shabbat. And I haven’t mentioned the other old friends we met in shul and over meals.
The air was pleasant, the neighborhoods are charming, and the view of the bridge at night, as we approached the exit from Jerusalem, is breathtaking. I foced myself to remember the pleasures of winter in the Tel Aviv area. . . .
Check out Haveil Havalim #175 over here.
A girl comes to her father and announces her marriage plans. When the father asks the boy’s occupation, the girl tells him that he is a chazan (cantor). The father says, “No daughter of mine will marry a chazan!” The girl and her mother cry and beg, but the father is adamant. He won’t consider a chazan for his daughter. Finally, they convince him to go to shul to hear the potential chassan (groom) in action. After the davening the father comes to his daughter and wishes her mazel tov. The daughter, delirious with joy, asks her father what changed his mind about her intended. He replied, “I heard him, and he’s no chazan!”
(Unfortunately, the bar mitzvah speaker who originally told this joke concluded by saying that the bar mitzvah boy was also no chazan, but had other wonderful qualities!)
Sephardi Lady posted about her in-laws’ disappointment at the most recent simcha honoring her baby daughter. Even though Sephardi Lady and Gentleman celebrated just as every other young couple in their community did, the in-laws felt it should have been fancier. Unfortunately they hadn’t discussed this in advance, and the incident left a lot of hurt feelings all around. I think that perhaps failed communication contributed more to this dispute than the standards in different communities.
S.L. asked me for my opinion on the subject. I’m happy to oblige.
While I agree that grandparents should not have a role in their children’s decisions regarding daycare, diet, and discipline, smachot (life-cycle celebrations) belong in a different category. The simcha belongs to the grandparents too! Also, they are one-time events. While the final decision ultimately lies with the parents making the simcha, if they can easily make the grandparents happy without compromising their principles I believe they should make the effort. For instance, if the grandparents want to hire a fancier caterer or invite more guests and they are willing to pay (or the parents can do so without a major financial sacrifice), the parents should consider going along with it for the sake of peace. The parents can make it clear that they are not setting a precedent for future events. If they decide not to, the son or daughter, not the son or daughter-in-law, should be the one to explain things. Anyway, as the grandparents get older they are less likely to be as involved in these types of details (unfortunately).
I’m not referring to cases where the demands are far removed from the standards of the community, nor unhealthy situations where the in-laws are trying to control the young couple, sabotage the marriage, or one-up the other grandparents.
These things can be explained to children old enough to understand. I told mine that most of the “material” preparations for the Bar Mitzvah were to make sure that the guests felt welcome and would want to come next time, and that they (the children) also needed to do what they could to achieve this by being extra cheerful and cooperative. When we take the tastes of grandparents into account we make them feel part of things, and we model respect for parents.
To a lesser degree we try to take the needs of other relatives into account too. When families fight, they often bring up examples of slights from family occasions. They put us in a cheap hotel, they sat us next to that couple we hate, they didn’t include us in the pictures. Are they being gracious guests? No. Do we want our children to have a relationship with such relatives and their children later on in life? Is it worth gritting our teeth and compromising some of the time? Can we go out of our way to be extra gracious hosts when we make a simcha, according to our means? Worth considering.
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