At the conclusion of the seven day mourning period in Judaism known as
shivah, it is customary for the mourners to take a cathartic walk around the neighborhood as a symbolic return to the community. Many mourners have commented to me that this walk is a therapeutic way to clear their head and move from a state of mourning into the next phase of beginning to adjust to life without their loved one.
A week ago my family celebrated the milestone of my oldest child becoming a bar mitzvah. For our family, this was truly an event we anticipated for many years, if not from the moment he was born. Our son spent a year preparing himself to be able to chant beautifully from the Torah and Haftorah, lead the Shabbat morning services, and deliver a thoughtful and inspiring d'var Torah about the importance of being persistent as a leader. He was amazing and made us extremely proud of his accomplishments. For the entire week following his bar mitzvah, we were still reveling in the celebration.

Yesterday, as Shabbat was in its final hours I asked if anyone in my home wanted to join me for a walk outdoors. The next thing I knew, my wife and I were joined by our three children for a brisk walk around the neighborhood for about an hour. It was the perfect way to reflect as a family on the past Shabbat, what joy we all felt as we celebrated this milestone with family and close friends, and a symbolic way to now come down from the clouds and return to reality. I pray that we should all experience such moments of extreme pride in our children's accomplishments and joyous celebrations for the future vitality of the Jewish people.
What follows is the sermon I delivered last Shabbat at my son's bar mitzvah:
Leadership, Questioning and Continuity
Parashat Bo
Together with my beautiful bride who stood with me under a chuppah on this very bimah almost eighteen years ago, I say
zeh hayom asah Adonai, nagilah v'nishmecha bo. We are so grateful to God who has created this day and we will surely celebrate it with joy.
I must tell you that my intent was to just be a Dad this morning. After all, "Dad" is my favorite job! But when Rabbi Bergman asked if I'd like to deliver the sermon this morning, I was honored and decided that I would attempt to share some insights from our Torah portion that might convey just a fraction of the message I want to impart to my son. But make no mistake -- this is not me talking directly to my son. Rather, I hope you too will take to heart the three themes I share this morning. Three themes I believe convey a few lessons to us as parents.
But first a joke: A Jewish mother is with her son at the beach, a son of whom she is of course very proud as he recently passed his medical exams. Within minutes of entering the water for a swim he gets pulled under by a big wave and it's obvious he doesn't know how to swim.
Urgently, trying to get someone to come to her son's assistance, she screams, "HELP! HELP! My son the doctor is drowning!"