Rabbi Joshua Hoffman Sermons

Rosh Hashana 2004 – 5765 by Rabbi Joshua Hoffman

On a warm summer evening, groups of boys throughout this country are led through twisted mazes of trees and brush away from the camping areas they traveled miles far from home to reach. Upon arriving to the site, the flames of a centrally located bonfire wisp to and fro as they are fanned by the gentle breeze. Small groups form around the fire, and the Boy Scout elders begin to charge the select boys with the responsibility of spending two nights by themselves in an obscure location in the wilderness. Their adventure begins with nothing but their clothes, a small first-aid kit, and enough food to eat one meal. During the Ordeal, young men must find their own shelter, sustain themselves throughout the day and second evening, and they must perform environmental improvement projects in silence. After 36 hours, the young boys return to the camp in time for the welcoming ceremony into the special Order of the Tribe they are now permitted to join. 

Pre-teen African American girls in the Southern United States are invited to join a group of their peers and mentor-guides in order to reenact ancient African rites of dancing, sewing and wearing special clothes, and eating traditional foods. These customs, surrounded with the aura of African tribalism, the steady beating of drums, the hum of songs and chants without words, are offset with learning about modern practices for health and safety. The girls learn about money management, personal hygiene, the effects of unsafe sexual encounters, and the benefits of meditation. At the end of the learning process, the young women have a "graduation ceremony" and are invited to become mentors for the next group of learners. This program, like others of its kind in scope, are aimed at changing the landscape of American youth life, especially for these young girls who are increasingly facing some devastating social and emotional pitfalls. 

Now, we enter a synagogue sanctuary. The scene unfolds as we watch a young boy, swimming in his newly purchased and "tailored for growth" suit, or a young girl learning how to stand in her first pair of heels, approach the podium to chant the words of his Haftarah. The silence of the congregation rushes over the room, as the blessings before the reading are chanted with fluency and near-accuracy. The words, carefully articulated, and crackling between two registers are concluded. The community showers upon the young adult soft-candy and words of praise. The initiate shares words of Torah and teaches the community. Parents wrap their child in the fringes of the tallit - a garment that represents a change in status - a symbolic object worn by adults in the community. The elder, or Rabbi, brings blessings from the community and charges the young adult with words of guidance and wisdom. The members of the tribe bring gifts in honor of the moment with encouraging words of continued participation in the group. And then comes the party. Sometimes it is lavish - sometimes more elegant, more ostentatious, and more thrilling than a wedding feast. Other times the party is rich with spirit and meaning. The tables are adorned with baskets of food to be dedicated to the local food pantry. The "mitzvah project" is proudly displayed for all the guests to see, as they stand astonished at the depth of commitment the child has been able to express during this most joyous occasion.

Each of these experiences can be defined as a "Rite of passage." The process, a term coined by Arnold Van Gennep around a century ago, depicts specific moments in a culture where there is a deliberate transformation of the individual, the family, and the community as a whole by a process of initiation. Every rite follows a similar pattern. There is a gathering moment of the community. The initiate is presented before the community for some test. An ordeal ensues. There is great travail in the ordeal - sometimes even life threatening. The transformed one rejoins the community having survived the trial and joins the adult group enjoying the new status she or he is afforded. 

Such rites of passage are even found deep within our American culture. It was Ernest Hemingway who said, "All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain called Huckleberry Finn. American writing comes from that. There was nothing before. There has been nothing as good since." With such laudatory praise, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn aptly describes the journey of one boy from a place of danger - from the threat of his life sought by a thieving gang, to the ordeal escape - traveling down the river with Jim, his guide and mate, his teacher and mentor - to his final reentry into society as he meets up with Tom Sawyer, his best friend and perhaps alter ego, in the closing chapters of the book. It is the quintessential story of transition and change in the individual, and as Hemingway quips, for the American people. It is equally the least understood and most complex to define. 

These rites of passage move us and inspire us. Their potential power - from the excitement of the ordeal to the celebration upon its success - is what we crave so deeply in our culture. Rites of Passage form the contours of life. These are not everyday experiences - these are the moments that lift us up from the doldrums of our dedicated lives and permit us to see ourselves as part of a larger whole. Gennep's analysis suggests these moments are essential in the rejuvenation of society. When we experience a rite of passage in any capacity we come to know the feeling. . . of belonging. For us, we belong to a rich history, to a vibrant culture, to a vision of a world redeemed and renewed. In that nexus of transformation - the ordeal - we can truly shape the identity of an individual child, a family, and even a community to encounter that sense of belonging. 

If we pause for a moment to consider this, I think we can all relate and many of us can even admit that teenage life was a drag. Even talking about that time period is uncomfortable. Yes, many of us would prefer to forget about the pressures and the arguments, the awkwardness and the conflict, (for some of us the bad wardrobe choices and hair styles) and flash forward to. . . maybe this point in our lives. Or, some of us would prefer that we roll back the clocks a few years to the good old days. Yes, this year, like recent years passed, we will be blessed to celebrate over 100 B'nai Mitzvah here at Valley Beth Shalom. 100 opportunities to relive those moments ourselves and 100 opportunities to hope and pray those children will make it to the side of well -adjusted, wholesome and decent human beings like us. The frequency of this ritual moment in our lives and in this community, implores us to reflect on the power and impact of the B'nai Mitzvah ritual. 

Let us first examine how Bar/Bat Mitzvah became a rite of passage for Jews. You might be surprised to learn that the "Rite" of Bar Mitzvah did not come from the words of Moses written and sealed on Mount Sinai. Nor will we find that the traditions of Torah recitation or the charge of teaching the community emerging from a rabbinic custom. The Bar and Bat Mitzvah celebrations we see today - the DJ's, the dancers, and the latte bars too - are based on three words found in Pirke Avot - Ben ShloshEsrei L'Mitzvot = 13 for the mitzvot. When a child reaches the requisite age - she or he becomes responsible for her or his own actions. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Perhaps the only mark of Bar Mitzvah we have inherited from our Sages is a blessing - a formula that has fallen out of use here at VBS and in most non-orthodox synagogue communities today. The Midrash (Genesis Rabbah) recounts a time when the parents turn to their child and recite the following words: 

Baruch Atah Hashem, Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, Sh'Patarani (Sh'Pataranu) MŒOnsho Shel Zeh (or Zo). . .Praised is God, Ruler of all Creation, who releases me of responsibility for that one (pointing a finger to emphasize who we're talking about.) Or, as we read in more palatable translation found in our Siddur Sim Shalom, "Praised is God, Ruler of all Creation, who has brought us to this time when our child assumes the obligation of mitzvot." This simple formula and pointed gesture were as deep as the Jewish community went to mark this critical transition in the life of the child. [For us, perhaps this ritual is worth a second glance. The joy of releasing our children to the world where they are responsible for their own actions - in every way - is mildly attractive.] 

Ivan Marcus of Yale University shows that the first initiation rites in Jewish tradition emerged from the time children were ready to begin their formal educational studies. The ritual of the parents bringing their child to the lamdan - the appointed teacher for the community - in order to place him on his lap, shower him with dainties of all sorts inscribed with the letters of the Alef-Bet. The teacher would take his new students to the local river and explain to them that as the river flows through nature, so is the wish of the community that the wisdom of Torah will flow through them. [Could we imagine for a moment taking our children to the Los Angeles River of all places to make the same pronouncement? May your learning flow like the broken bottles and trash - I shudder at the thought] 

So, if Moses, our teacher, wasnt dancing the hora with his son Gershom when he turned thirteen, or Jacob, our forefather, didn't lift his son Joseph in a chair high above his head at the Israel Family Simcha, where did this thing we affectionately call Bar Mitzvah come from? We only begin to see the hints of any customs in the 15th century as the rabbis of the time began to include a special meal when the child came of age and it was until the past 200 years or so when the young boy was responsible for leading the community in prayer, saying a blessing over the Torah, or teaching the community. From this, I think we can learn it is important to continually reaffirm that changes to our rituals are natural and inevitable - we are well aware that the role of females in this rite is a relatively modern innovation, not to mention the tremendous amount of responsibility we place on all our children to perform the skills of religious life on their special day. 

And so, we now come to the celebration of Bar/Bat Mitzvah in our time. Let us consider one effect of our contemporary contribution to this historical event. Many of you may be familiar with Elizabeth Bernstein's Wall Street Journal article published earlier this year. The story still continues to cause some ripples in our community. In the article she shared the stories of some young people who so deeply craved a rite of passage of their own that they inspired their parents to throw them a Bar/Bat Mitzvah celebration, even though they were not Jewish. One girl in the article even stated outright, "I wanted to be Jewish so I could have a bat mitzvah. Having the party fulfilled that." This rite of passage - deep within the roots in our tradition - has been interpreted quite differently than any of us really expected. 

According to the article, the prevalence of these events is growing. Maybe even some of you have attended one or two of these parties by now. For some of us, Bar Mitzvah is exactly what it has come to be defined by - an extravagant celebration with food, dancing, face painting and t-shirt making, caricatures and rodeos. For those who see this moment from the outside, Bar Mitzvah is a noun. Bar Mitzvah means an age when you are given a party for entering adolescence. The first questions that should come to our mind are, "Where is the rite of passage here? Where do these children - where do our children - go after they have completed their ordeal?" In our community, the rite of passage has a conclusion and it isn't only the party. Please don't get me wrong, we all deserve an elaborate bash before going through the torment that teenage life will be for our children and us. Yet, we must admit that the rallying cry to encourage less focusing on the Bar and more on the Mitzvah is no longer applicable. We must come to the unpleasant realization that such admonitions have not ever really worked for us. I think the time has come for us to look again at the Bar/Bat Mitzvah as a genuine rite of passage and consider some innovations to bring the experience back to the core. 

At its core, Gennep shows us that a rite of passage is the symbolic death, rebirth, and nurturing of a new social status. The adolescent life is precisely the period when our children -- cherubic and naive, free-spirited and playful -- spiral deep into the pits of doubt and self-abnegation. Erik Erikkson even titled this stage Œmoratorium' - to signify the process of identity exploration. The Bar/Bat Mitzvah has a symbolic death of the child and the subsequent rebirth of the young adult at its functional core. And while this rite is as much for the child, it takes a family and a community to bring a child through this moment. The nurturing of the new social status Gennep speaks of is essential for change. 

How shall we nurture our young adults - how shall we respond as a community? The solution in the past was to make the school - the timing - the commitment to learning more accessible. While these accommodations have enabled our children to experience the benefits of club sports, performing in concert musicals and professional quality stage productions. As a result we have incidentally diluted our message. The goal of training our children how to acquire, internalize, and apply the tools for value-laden living in a world that supports those values is sometimes secondary to the performance of the ceremony itself. We have relegated the goals of our ordeal on the same list as the DJ and the photographer in order to accommodate such luxuries. Our challenge is to create a learning environment where our initiates can learn why being Jewish can be meaningful to them and that the social benefits of belonging to the adult group - those who practice and celebrate Jewish life - has real value. We cannot dilute the message in order to achieve this. No Native American tribe sends their child into the wilderness to have their Vision Quest for an hour, just so they can get a taste of what it is like. Without the investment, the return will be marginal.

So what is the real value we can offer? Several years ago Rabbi Schulweis addressed this very same issue. His charge to the community back then was also to challenge the parents to reconsider their goals at this critical moment in the child's development. Becoming a B'nai Mitzvah means becoming subject to "moral imperatives" but for us, he posits, it also means we should train our children to become B'nai De'ah, or the ones who discern between right and wrong - the ones who hear the call of the moral imperative and act upon it - eventually and hopefully in a sound fashion. In other words, the experience of B'nai Mitzvah has the power to transform our children into the adults we hope they will become - self-reliant with a solid and positive identity that is Jewish and universal, ambitious and reflective, honest and compassionate - just to name a few qualities. 

In order to create B'nai De'ah what would the rite of passage look like? In other words, what rituals and customs are essential so we can welcome B'nai De'ah into our fold? First the process should involve the family. I would love to see families exploring Judaism together - meeting together as a family and bringing the learning home so that this experience can bring one small change for the entire family. What a blessing it could be to see all of our families creating special aspects of the ritual together - from creative tallitot to learning and sharing special words that speak of the moment as an opportunity for learning something new about Jewish life. As much as the rite is for the child, the entire family structure changes. How special it could be to see the family demonstrate their preparation and embrace of such change. 

If we had the opportunity, we could turn the party as the sole celebration of the moment and invite our kids to go to Israel - as a family or as a group. At the end of the year, we could bring the entire class to stand at the wall in Jerusalem - to feel the sand atop Masada, to splash the fresh waters of the Galil - to walk in the footsteps of our ancestors as the reward for enduring the challenges of learning the tradition and demonstrating some skill. 

Each individual child can choose some aspect of Judaism, from the texts of our ancestors, to the literature of our modern thinkers - from the art of our greatest painters to the music of our greatest composers and do more than model them and learn of their history. Each initiate into the community would be given the opportunity to share something genuinely from him or herself. 

Each initiate can be assigned a mentor - a peer who has recently endured the ordeal and can share the few years of experience on the other side to encourage each child to join the group. The mentors and the initiate can share their hopes and aspirations not only for the development and growth of their Jewish lives, but also for their lifelong goals. 

When we learn from our B'nai Mitzvah, members of the community can take special interest in something the child offered as his or her special contribution and volunteer to help cultivate this child's ambition in a practical context. How wonderful will it can be when they have this context in which to enjoy the fruits of their wisdom. 

As much as the goal is to initiate our children into a moral community, we must examine the community itself to measure if our expectations are realistic and attainable. VBS has been named many different things from the "Very Big Shul" to "Our Lady of Perpetual Simchas." No more disturbing is the association of our synagogue as being a "factory." We employ the language of the industrial revolution - perhaps we typify the pinnacle of the radical transformation of the world into an assembly line of life experiences. The Bar/Bat Mitzvah factory is precisely what we have constructed with the grand engineer monitoring and greasing the machine wherever it begins to squeak. With all machines, they cannot last forever - in our attempt to simplify the process and "satisfy" the sheer number of people who need the service - we have industrialized the ritual. The demand is greater, but like any machine that produces the initial product in mass quantity - the quality is not nearly as effective. Here, I ask you, the community to search with me to find the answer. Let us turn our creativity from the more elaborate party to creating a meaningful ceremony that will deserve the extravagance of a dazzling wedding feast upon completion. 

I see this community - I love these children and I feel blessed to have the opportunity to work with them and their families. Each child deserves to feel like this moment is created especially for her and her family while inviting them to see and participate in the community that has made this moment possible for her. If we are to fulfill this goal - if we are to create B'nai De'ah - wise choosing children, we must give them a community in which to make their wise choices. Robert Frost's timeless words remind us of the power of making sound choices: 

I shall be telling this with a sigh 
Somewhere ages and ages hence: 
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I - 
I took the one less traveled by, 
And that has made all the difference. 

We need not look far to find the right prescription for this community. When the Israelites were standing to receive the words of Torah on Mount Sinai, it was God who called us Mamlechet Kohanim - literally a kingdom of priests - what we can define for us today as an authoritative community. We have been given the blessing of potential - the potential to authoritatively bring the presence of God into this place. Our children need to see that potential too. In that same verse from the Torah, God also calls us a Goy Kadosh - a holy nation. We can become the community that stands on the threshold of these life-changing portals. Every time an individual or a family enter our sanctuary, we can help them infuse their moment with the holiness of tradition and the holiness of transition and change. We can all embrace the potential power our rituals contain. 

This year I have commissioned a select and diverse group of leaders in our community to study B'nai Mitzvah - to explore how different Jewish communities celebrate this moment - to study to roots of this rite and the potential for incorporating new rites into our community. The B'nai Mitzvah Commission will be exploring our current policies and practices and through earnest study and discussion make recommendations to you all for how to improve our celebrations. So important is Bnai Mitzvah in our community that the West Valley Rabbinic Task Force, a consortium of synagogues like Temple Judea, Shomrei Torah Synagoue, Temple Aliyah, and Congregation Or Ami, and VBS have begun to explore the various different policies we all will set in guiding our families through the B'nai Mitzvah years. While we propose guidelines and encourage change from our institutions, it ultimately becomes you, the community of those who join us in fellowship and genuine desire for exploring their Jewish identity, that must help make the rite of passage "right" once again. 

Join us in making a difference. Spend this year with us looking at some of our core practices. For you families who have long completed this trial, come back to the community. Spend the year learning and sharing life the way you were meant to after your ceremony. There are lectures and activities, committees and social action projects to join. The are learner's minyanim, opportunities for advanced text study, a once a month dinner, the VBS Bistro, where the community is invited to just come and eat dinner as a community. Spend the year connecting with the community you so proudly brought your children and grandchildren to in order to celebrate these precious moments. 

We are the inheritors of a special relationship - we come here during the New Year to renew that relationship once again. This year, our covenant is to become the authoritative community who shares life's holiest moments together - to belong to the Kingdom of Priests and Holy Nation our ancestors strived for and that God hopes for us to become. All rites of passage allow us, for one moment, one breath, to simultaneously welcome the past, embrace the present, and visualize the future. Through rites of passage, through the confluence of the past, present, and future, we can touch eternity. Our Sages were keen to this feeling and captured this feeling in the words of blessings - the words that give us the opportunity to make many moments in our lives transcendent and present. It now makes perfect sense why we recite the blessing of Shehecheyanu to mark the moment once it has occurred. It is upon us to recite these words once again. 

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam Shehecheyanu, V'Kiyamanu, V'Higiyanu, LaZman HaZeh. 

Let us give praise to the Source of Life, Creator of the ever-changing universe, For granting us life, For sustaining us through these life moments, and for bringing us through the ordeal from the past to the present and with great hope for the future. 

So may our blessings be during this joyous season. 
L' Shanah Tovah

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