Raising the Bar for a Bar Mitzvah: Leadership, Questioning and Continuity

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!"

What Do We Think About When We Study Torah

When my eldest child turned 10-years-old earlier this year we began a weekly ritual of Torah study on Shabbat afternoons. These 30-minute learning sessions have quickly become my highlight of the week as they are an opportunity for me to teach my son Torah and also gain from the new insights that he shares from his own perspective.

This past Shabbat we delved into Parashat Metzora, the Torah portion that continues the ancient ritual of dealing with one who was afflicted with the skin disease known as tzara'at in the Israelite camp during our ancestors' sojourn in the desert. As we took turns reading the Hebrew verses and their English translations, I began thinking about my late grandfather, Dr. David Gudes. A well-respected dermatologist in Detroit, Michigan, my Papa was an expert on various skin ailments and I often think about him each year during the time we read the Torah portions of Tazria and Metzora.

Our little Torah study session provided me with a wonderful opportunity to reflect on my Papa's life for my son who never had the chance to meet him. He died almost twenty years ago on October 6, 1994 (Rosh Chodesh Cheshvan). Today, April 7, would have been his 94th birthday.

Leading the Passover Seder with my grandfather (early 1980s)

What do we think about when we study Torah? Yes, our thoughts very often transcend to a time long ago when our biblical ancestors lived. But oftentimes the text of the Torah takes us to other places. Reading of a biblical character may cause us to think of an individual who possessed similar character traits. The interaction between two characters in the Torah may set our minds adrift as we think about a similar interaction in our own time. And a theme of the Torah, like the leprosy-like skin ailment of tzara'at, may force us to reflect on a loved one who is no longer with us in the Land of the Living.

Talking with my grandfather, Dr. David Gudes, the day before my bar mitzvah (1989)

It is a tradition to begin the Torah education of children with the third book of the Torah, Leviticus. Many have theorized that we initiate children with Torah study using this book rather than with Genesis, the first of the Five Books of Moses, because Leviticus is so complex with its minutiae of priestly laws. Whatever the rationale, I'm grateful to have studied from Leviticus this past Shabbat with my son because it allowed my Papa to join our weekly Shabbat Torah study. You never know what you're going to think about when you study Torah. For me, the details of a biblical skin disease brought my beloved grandfather back to life for the generation he never met.

D'var Torah: Prince Fielder, Inheritance & Fatherhood

I was emotionally moved as I watched Detroit Tigers' slugger Prince Fielder accept the 2012 Home Run Derby award on Monday night in Kansas City with his two adorable sons proudly standing next to him. But it also struck me as sad that Prince's father Cecil Fielder wasn't in that photo op as well.

I still remember back in 1990 when Cecil Fielder (a Detroit Tigers All-Star 1st baseman like his son is today) was the favorite to win the All-Star Game Home Run Derby. Competing against the likes of Jose Canseco, Mark McGwire and Ken Griffey, Jr., Cecil failed to hit even one homer in the contest that night. This week, Prince Fielder became the first player ever to win the Home Run Derby in both leagues (he won in 2009 as a Milwaukee Brewer too).

There's no question that Prince Fielder inherited the gift of hitting the long ball from his father. This week's Torah Portion, Parshat Pinchas, is all about inheritance and succession. Moses was an impressive leader of the Jewish people in the desert as they made their journey to Israel. This week, however, we learn that Moses will not lead the Israelites into the Promised Land. Although he has worked tirelessly to be a great leader and inspirational figure, his career will end before the reward of entering the land with his people.

Uncle As Father Figure

The past three Father’s Days have been difficult days for me. I’ve spent each of them with my dad, but I missed my beloved uncle in a real and painful way. My Uncle Jerry died after a very brief battle with Pancreatic cancer in February 2009.

As this year’s Father’s Day approached I thought about the father figure role that many uncles play in their nephew’s life. I have a wonderful relationship with my own dad, but my relationship with my uncle was different. He served as a different type of role model for me than my father. My uncle was the one to take me to hockey games and for a ride on the back of a motorcycle. We went on day-long excursions by snowmobile or by boat. It was my uncle who taught me to appreciate an ice cold beer on a hot summer day and a fine glass of wine with good friends as the sun was setting.

Jewish Summer Camp and Helicopter Parents

Parents find new benefit to Jewish camp: Freedom from themselves

When she took the stage recently before an audience of 400 Jewish camping enthusiasts, Lenore Skenazy wasted no time in addressing why she is known as “America’s Worst Mom.”

The author of a 2008 column in The New York Times describing how she let her 9-year-old son ride the subway home alone just to see if he could do it, Skenazy has been the subject of sharp criticism for her parenting philosophy. But Skenazy is fighting back, waging war against what she describes as overzealous and anxiety-ridden helicopter parents who hover over their children rather than letting them be “free-range kids,” affording them the freedom to make mistakes.

She even wrote a book on the subject: “Free-Range Kids: Giving Our Children the Freedom We Had Without Going Nuts with Worry.”

Lenore Skenazy at the Foundation for Jewish Camp's Leaders Assembly

“Sending your kids to camp is a fantastic way to give kids back their freedom,” Skenazy said at the Foundation for Jewish Camp’s recent Leaders Assembly in this central New Jersey city. “Homesickness is a good thing. It shows they appreciate their home. So, thank God for camp.”

Summer camp has emerged as one of the most promising tools in the struggle to ensure Jewish continuity in an era when Jews face more choice and fewer barriers to assimilation. A recent study by the sociologist Steven M. Cohen commissioned by the FJC shows that campers grow up to be connected to Jewish life and identify proudly within the Jewish community as adults.

“The analysis indicates that they bring, first of all, an increased inclination to practice Jewish behaviors in their lives, from Shabbat candle lighting to using Jewish websites, and to appreciate the value of Jewish charity,” Cohen concludes in the study. “Secondly, they bring an increased inclination to value and seek out the experience of Jewish community, whether in the immediate sense of joining other Jews in prayer or in the more abstract sense of identifying with fellow Jews in Israel.”

Since its launch 13 years ago, the foundation has raised approximately $90 million to strengthen Jewish camps and, more recently, to encourage the growth of so-called Jewish specialty camps -- those that focus on sports, art or outdoor adventures -- in an attempt to siphon off some of the Jewish campers who might be drawn to non-Jewish camps focusing on specialty areas.

But the focus on identity building has obscured what some say is another, less-touted benefit of the camp experience that should also be a draw for Jewish parents: affording their kids a measure of freedom from intensive parenting.

“Kids go to camp and gain independence,” said Nancy Lublin, the founder of the nonprofits Dress for Success and DoSomething.org, and another speaker at the conference. “That’s why we need camp. It’s about the fun, tradition and independence. Go get dirty, get lice, sprain something. Parents will see that they don’t come home with their nose pierced, purple hair or worshiping the devil. It’s okay.”

Nancy Lublin of DoSomething.org addresses Jewish Summer Camp leaders

Helicopter parenting, a term used to refer to parents that hover over their children and pay exceedingly close attention to their every activity -- sometimes to a degree that borders on smothering -- is hardly a Jewish phenomenon. It has been the subject of numerous books and articles, and of late has sparked its own backlash. But Jewish parents, and particularly the much-maligned stereotypical Jewish mother, may be more susceptible to such impulses than most.

“We Jewish parents are definitely overprotective of our kids, and it's tough to send them to overnight camp,” Lublin said. “But we all know it's the right thing to do. It's just what Jews do.”

For some parents, however, summer camp may not be a cure-all. Parents still call and write their kids and, with the proliferation of new communications technologies, they can remain involved to a degree that parents of a previous generation were not.

“Even when the children are away at camp, the parents will still be hovering,” said Michael Salamon, a psychologist in New York who has fingered overparenting as one of the reasons behind the so-called shidduch crisis, in which a glut of young unmarried adults -- mainly in the Orthodox community -- struggle to find suitable mates.

“I met with parents in a recent session who were so overprotective of their child that it was hindering the child’s ability to perform well in school,” Salamon said. “They told me they felt it was important to send their child to camp this summer to encourage independence, but really what I noticed is that they were looking for a vacation for themselves. They work so hard at parenting that they need a break.”

For parents like these, summer camp is a way to loosen the reins a little but in a way that still feels relatively safe.

Stephanie Steiner of Springfield, N.J., describes her own parenting style as “somewhat overprotective.” Still, every summer she ships off her kids to Camp Harlam, a Reform movement camp in Pennsylvania. They’ve demonstrated more independence as a result, which makes the experience -- and the expense -- worth it.

“We feel very comfortable with the camp and who is running it and how it is run, so it makes it easier,” Steiner said. “The camp's motto is ‘Where friends become family,’ and we know our kids are so happy at their home away from home.”

Whatever the benefits of Jewish camping, there’s little sign that enthusiasm for it is on the wane. The Jim Joseph Foundation and the Avi Chai Foundation have put up $8.6 million in grant money to bring more Jewish children into the camping world by focusing on their specialized hobbies.

“Camp gives kids the permission to be themselves. Parents trust that camp is a positive place for building self-esteem and self-confidence,” said Jeremy Fingerman, the CEO of the Foundation for Jewish Camp. “Jewish camp brings that and an even stronger sense of community.”

Motherhood and the Rabbinate: A Male Rabbi Responds

When we hear the words of the Torah being read this Shabbat morning, we'll learn about a group of women who had a mutual goal and succeeded.

A man named Tzelafchad died without having any sons and the laws of inheritance in the Torah only recognized male heirs, making no provision for a deceased father's land to be claimed by his female descendants. However, Tzelafchad's daughters, Machlah, Noah, Chaglah, Milkah and Tirtzah, refused to reconcile themselves to this fact and petitioned Moses to grant them their father's estate. Moses brought their claim to God, who responded: "The daughters of Tzelafchad speak right: thou shalt surely give them a possession of an inheritance among their father's brethren; and thou shalt cause the inheritance of their father to pass unto them. And thou shalt speak unto the children of Israel, saying: If a man die, and have no son, then ye shall cause his inheritance to pass unto his daughter."

These five women didn't let the fact that they were women get in the way of changing history. And neither did the women who broke the gender barrier in the rabbinate. Prior to June 3, 1972, no woman had ever been ordained as a rabbi in the United States. On that date, Sally Priesand became the first woman rabbi in North America. The first Conservative rabbi wouldn't be ordained for another eleven years when Rabbi Amy Eilberg graduated from the Jewish Theological Seminary.

It is appropriate that we learn about the courageous daughters of Tzelafchad this week following an op-ed in the Forward written by a female rabbinical student from the Jewish Theological Seminary who argues that motherhood and the rabbinate don't mix well. Chasya-Uriel Steinbauer, the mother of an infant daughter, is on leave from the Seminary while she stays at home to care for her daughter. Somehow she found the time (probably while her baby was napping) to post on the Forward's Sisterhood blog that mothers who are practicing rabbis are just another example of the "Super Mom-syndrome now cloaked as the Super Ima-Rabbi syndrome."

Well, I couldn't disagree more. Maybe Chasya-Uriel Steinbauer is not able to balance motherhood with the life of a rabbinical student, but I have certainly witnessed many women who were able to strike this balance -- and impressively so.

I remember my first day of rabbinical school orientation like it was yesterday. We sat around a conference room table introducing ourselves. Many of us were right out of college. Some were single, while others were either engaged or newly married. But there were also several older students in my rabbinical school class. I remember Paula Mack Drill introducing herself in her warm way by telling us that first and foremost she is the mother of four children ages nine to two-years-old. And she wasn't the only woman in our class who would spend the next six years raising a family and fulfilling the necessary credits to graduate and become a rabbi. During rabbinical school, many of my female classmates became mothers for the first time (or for the second or third time). And many of the men (myself included) became fathers for the first time.

Was it challenging to be both a mommy (or daddy) and still manage to attend classes, study in the beit midrash, take exams and manage a part-time job? Of course it was. Just like it is a challenge to balance motherhood with medical school or law school or any other graduate school. But it can be done and it can be done without forsaking the children.

The experience of coupling motherhood with a career is something women fought for in the last century. The opening of the doors to women in the rabbinate was very much a result of the Women's Liberation Movement. And Judaism is the better for it. This past Mother's Day I wrote an article for JTA in praise of women rabbis. I wrote this because my rabbinate and my Jewish experience have only been enhanced by the presence of women rabbis.

From among my rabbinical school class alone, I've seen one of my female classmates go on to become an entrepreneur, founding a new congregation and being recognized as one of Newsweek Magazine's top congregational rabbis. I saw another female classmate go on to become one of the highest ranking chaplains in the Navy. I saw other female classmates build small synagogues into larger, thriving communities. And these are only the women with whom I was ordained. Look around the Jewish world and you'll see hundreds of women successfully raising their children while also educating, counseling, writing, leading organizations and preaching.

Chasya-Uriel Steinbauer urges, "I want us to question why we allow our lives to be set up in such ways where we feel that they have no choice but to work or attend school and thus leave our babies in the care of others." You definitely have a choice. But many women in the 21st century are choosing to do the motherhood thing along with being an executive or a graduate student or a rabbi. It can be done and it can be done gracefully without any risk to the children.

I'm actually glad that Steinbauer wrote this because it gives us a chance to praise the women who balance motherhood with their careers. No one says these women have to do it alone. Help comes from devoted spouses, caring parents serving as loving grandparents, and talented nannies. Back in rabbinical school, there were many days when a baby would join us in class. Sometimes it was a mommy who brought the baby and sometimes it was a daddy. Not only did we not mind having a baby or two in class, we actually liked it. It was a testament that we didn't have to check our parenthood responsibilities at the door of the Seminary. It is really no different than a rabbi who sits on the bimah (pulpit) with her baby. It is a scene that might have been odd a few decades ago, but today it is commonplace.

One rabbi who prides herself on also being a mother is Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, who blogs at Ima On (and Off) the Bima. I thought her response to Chasya-Uriel Steinbauer was perfect. Reminding everyone that she is an ima (mother) both on and off the bimah, she wrote:

I am both a mother and a rabbi. Some days I'm more ima. Some days I'm more bima. (See blog title.) Some days, I'm trying to make it all work. But I don't think I'm doing it wrong. I just know that I'm doing it. I've created four wonderful little people and my husband and I delight in their growth of body and spirit. We definitely juggle, we definitely argue over who goes where and when.

I hope Chasya-Uriel Steinbauer returns to rabbinical school soon. I'm sure she'll become a talented rabbi while being a nurturing and devoted mother too. These are not mutually exclusive roles in life. It might just take her a few years to figure that out.

Jewish Summer Camp: A Father's Reflection Upon His Son's First Time at Sleepaway Camp

A few days before my oldest child ventured off to summer camp for the first time, I read a beautiful prayer by my colleague Rabbi Phyllis Sommer. On her "Ima On (and Off) the Bima" blog, she shared her prayer as her son embarked on his second summer away at camp. Titled "A Mama's Prayer for Summer Camp," she offered the following words:

May you find learning and growth of all kinds.
May you gain independence and feel comfort in your Jewish identity.
May the mosquitoes be guided away from you, and may the raindrops not fall into your tent (too much).
May the food be delicious and the pool the right temperature.
May you seek out new experiences and try new things (vegetables would be nice but I'm doubtful).
May you smile brilliantly for the camp photographer and show up daily in the online photo albums...

Rabbi Phyllis ended her beautiful prayer, "May you return home in one piece with all your belongings, and may you ever yearn to return to the land of summer camp."

My son returns home from summer camp this morning. He was only gone for ten days, but these were the longest ten days of my life. I truly missed him like crazy. I had only been apart from him for this long twice before when I led trips to Israel, but at least then I knew he was safe at home with his mommy.

Like any father, I was worried about him. He wasn't in a strange place because he essentially grew up at this Jewish summer camp. We spent the past several summers there as a family while I worked as the rabbi of the camping agency. But this was his first time away from home by himself so I was naturally concerned. Would he make new friends? Would he get enough sleep at night? Would he remember to put on sunscreen? Would he be homesick?

Inspired by Rabbi Phyllis's prayer, I've constructed my own prayer for my son as he returns home to us this morning from his first summer at sleepaway camp:

Tashuv Eleinu... May you return to us feeling energized by your first experience at camp.
Tashuv Eleinu... May you return to us having forged lasting friendships.
Tashuv Eleinu... May you return to us a little more mature and a little more independent.
Tashuv Eleinu... May you return to us feeling pride in your Jewish identity.
Tashuv Eleinu... May you return to us free of sunburn and too many mosquito bites.
Tashuv Eleinu... May you return to us having missed us but without having been homesick.
Tashuv Eleinu... May you return to us eager to share your camp memories with us.
Tashuv Eleinu... May you return to us ready to return to camp for many more magical summers to come.

As a father, I am so grateful for the powerful gift of Jewish summer camp and I am confident that my son's experiences of the past week-and-a-half have ignited a Jewish summer camping spark in him.

Fatherhood

My daughter had a fever today so I took my two sons out to lunch. Sitting at lunch I couldn't help thinking about what a blessing it is to be a father. And then, as fate would have it, my father walked into the restaurant and sat down at the booth behind us for a business meeting. I overheard my father's business associate comment that I am a "spitting image" of him, which is funny because I'm always being told that one of my sons is a "spitting image" of me.

There truly is something so special about fatherhood. And I was thinking about it earlier in the week as well when I attended a retreat for Jewish educators at the Butzel Conference Center in Ortonville, Michigan. One of the speakers was Jonah Geller, the Executive director of Tamarack Camps, where I serve as the rabbi. Jonah spoke on the topic of "implementing change" and first asked us to list the five biggest changes in our lives. The biggest change in my life that I listed first was becoming a father. More than becoming a rabbi or getting married, and more than losing close relatives, this life-changing event was the most significant in my life thus far.

Since becoming a dad almost five-and-a-half years ago, my life has certainly been different in the most positive way. Having dependents is certainly a monumental responsibility and a life-changing realization. I've also found it wonderful to have children whom I also consider to be friends. The enjoyment and pride that a father receives from just looking at his children is such a blessing.

I often hear women lament that there shouldn't be just one day called "Mothers' Day" but rather every day should be devoted to heaping praise on hard-working moms. I agree. I feel the same way about "Fathers' Day" too. It seems silly that one day a year, my kids should feel the need to honor me for the job of being their father. I have come to see Fathers' Day (this Sunday) as a day not for my children to leave me alone and let me play golf, but rather as a day in which I make a concerted effort to thank God for the gift of fatherhood... a day in which I take the time to express my gratitude for my children. So, if Hallmark can sell more cards and stores can increase their revenue by advertising gifts for dads so be it. For me, Fathers' Day is a day for reflection and appreciation.

There are some wonderful books on fatherhood that [coincidentally?] have been published recently. American Parent: My Strange and Surprising Adventures in Modern Babyland is by one of my favorite authors, Sam Apple. In September 2007, I wrote on this blog about Sam's brilliantly funny article in Parents Magazine. Since he became a father, Sam has written many hilarious pieces about the joys and challenges of parenthood. In American Parent, he visits with the mohel who circumcised him, enters a trance with a childbirth hypnotist, goes on a stakeout with a nanny spy, and attends a lecture on Botox for new mothers. Sam, a University of Michigan graduate, is the son of legendary author Max Apple. After having a son a couple years ago, he and his wife added twins to the family so maybe I can give him some fatherhood advice in that regard. Excerpts from American Parent are available on Sam Apple's website.

I learned that another one of my favorite authors, Michael Lewis, would have a book on fatherhood coming out from his appearance on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart last week. The author of Bringing Down the House and Money Ball has written about fatherhood in Home Game: An Accidental Guide to Fatherhood. The book is adapted from a series of Slate essays that Lewis wrote about what actually happened immediately after the birth of each of his three children. He's a gifted writer and the book is very funny and engaging.

A book about fatherhood that I've had for several years is Lloyd Wolf's Jewish Fathers: A Legacy of Love. It's published by Jewish Lights, which is hands down my favorite Jewish book publisher. The book is a collection of stories and photographs celebrating the lives of contemporary American Jewish fathers. Wolf writes, "The image of the Jewish father is synonymous with the Yiddish word mensch, a good, kind, decent, human being. The word mensch has become part of America’s vocabulary. The first mensch that we meet in life is usually our father. Honest. Hardworking. Fair. Charitable. Funny. Reverent. Honorable. Responsible. A mensch. It is a standard to be lived up to, a standard that Jewish fathers have been charged with since the times of the Biblical patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob."

Finally, I found Adam Dickter's essay on Fatherhood to be quite meaningful. In the NY Jewish Week's blog, Dickter writes about his own experience as a father of three children. He quotes Adam Nimoy, who writes that his famous father, Leonard Nimoy "worked diligently, sometimes obsessively, to provide for his family, but like the stoic but efficient Spock character he played on TV, didn’t put much stock in bonding." Dickter's impression is that "Adam would have preferred a dad who swept floors and had time to go to ballgames."

It's not always easy to give 100% to the job of being a father. But it is so important to try. Fatherhood is the greatest gift!

So, to all the fathers and grandfathers (and great-grandfathers) out there, please accept my own wishes for a Happy Fathers' Day. I'm proud to be part of this club and I know that while "Fathers' Day" is the official day to celebrate us dads, everyday is an honor to serve in this special role.