For American journalist Lori Silberman Brauner, celebrating her son’s coming-of-age was an antidote to the US barmitzvah “circuit” of stagemanaged parties — and it provided a chance to engage in some hands-on social action.
By Lori Silberman Brauner
When my family first began planning my son Ezra’s barmitzvah close to two years ago, we knew the typical American- Jewish suburban celebration was not for us.
It only seemed natural to hold the event in Israel, a place my children had a special affinity for thanks to their Jewish day school and where I had spent extended periods of time as a student.
We decided to pull the kids out of school for almost two weeks and hold the barmitzvah in Jerusalem at the Western Wall on what would be President’s Day in the United States.
There were a host of reasons we chose to have his celebration in Israel, and specifically at the Kotel.
Simplicity. In the throes of the barmitzvah “circuit,” my son received an Evite to a racing party at an indoor gokart
track, followed by a Saturday night celebration the following week for the same child; attended a batmitzvah dinner at an upscale Manhattan restaurant followed by a Broadway musical; and went to a boys’ paintball party.
We had no desire to stage a barmitzvah performance and have to worry about a typical suburban American affair, complete with a party “motivator” (a virtual cheerleader that organizes party games and dances), an elaborate menu, and of course, the “montage,” the ubiquitous slide show highlighting every aspect of a kid’s life from birth to braces.
We had no desire to stage a barmitzvah performance and have to worry about a typical suburban American affair, complete with a party “motivator” (a virtual cheerleader that organizes party games and dances), an elaborate menu, and of course, the “montage,” the ubiquitous slide show highlighting every aspect of a kid’s life from birth to braces.
Money. If we were going to spend a decent amount of money, at least we should channel it into an occasion that would leave us with tons of memories — in this case, an Israel adventure. We would rather spend the money digging for pottery, hiking in Ein Gedi, and celebrating Purim in Jerusalem than on fancy benchers, personalized yarmulkes, and the classic T-shirt or gym bag swag from “Moishie’s Barmitzvah.”
The mitzvah. What more meaningful place could we choose to celebrate a child’s coming of age than Israel, and specifically Jerusalem, where paratroopers liberated the most sacred site in Jewish history only 45 years ago?
My extended family was not overjoyed at the decision, as most of them would not be able to make the trip. But we felt strongly about celebrating in Israel, and proceeded by making an on-line reservation through the website of the Western Wall Heritage Foundation. Both sets of grandparents joined us, as did, my sister and nephew, and my parents’ best friends. However, because there were so many others that would be left out, we decided to have a small party after our return at our New Jersey synagogue.
I spent the next six months carefully planning out the itinerary. Friends who had spent extended periods with their families in Israel e-mailed me their choreographed schedules, and I spent much time on-line not only researching hotel and transportation options, but also booking tours.
The service at the Kotel was beautiful and went quite smoothly in the end, despite our trepidation over the logistics — specifically finding a spot where men and women would be able to see the service in spite of the screen that separates the sexes. Not only did we find an optimal viewing spot, it felt as everyone gathered there that day was celebrating with us! Friends from past and present showed up that day, including a former madricha (youth movement counselor) I had not seen in 22 years and some I had only met on Facebook. And in an impromptu manner only possible in Israel, a local family with their own barmitzvah boy joined our service, further enhancing the ceremony with their Sephardi-style atmosphere and candy pelted from the women’s gallery.
After munching on rugelach at a mini “kiddush” that my long-lost Israeli friend was kind enough to arrange, we hosted a celebratory lunch at Te’enim, a beautiful dairy restaurant in Yemin Moshe overlooking the Old City. And the next day the fun began.
We did many of the usual first-trip activities that my kids had never experienced, such as ascending Masada, hiking in Ein Gedi, and going underground to dig for archeological treasures. Based in Jerusalem, we also discovered the Old City’s history by taking part in a scavenger hunt, celebrated Purim and Shabbat with family and friends, and meandered around the Machane Yehudah market, where we bought our Purim costumes at a major discount.
It was also important for us that the barmitzvah trip have an element of chesed — kindness, or what many American Jews call their “mitzva projects” or social action. We heard about Leket Israel, a charity which year on year rescues over 21 million pounds of produce and perishable goods that would otherwise go to waste, and redistributes it to hundreds of nonprofit organizations. The project appealed to us because we could ask our friends back home to make a donation to Leket in my son’s honor and we could get involved on the ground through actually picking fruit in the fields.
We reserved a date and time on-line to pick fruit, and two days after the barmitzvah ceremony piled into our rented minivan to head out to an orange grove outside of Rehovot. We were met by Leket staffer Deena Fiedler, an American immigrant to Israel, who made us feel at home and reiterated the significance of what we were doing for ordinary Israelis in need of a balanced, nutritious meal. My kids, joined by their cousin and aunt, got to work, and had a blast picking ripe oranges and helping fill a giant bin of fragrant fruit, which, in the end, was distributed
to 100 families.
The realization that they contributed to this endeavor through their own labor was incredible. There is nothing like
the satisfaction of knowing that even the smallest efforts go a long way.
Negotiations are (informally) under way for my younger son Daniel’s barmitzvah in three years. If time and finances allow it, we will return to Jerusalem — as I cannot imagine having it anywhere else.
Lori Silberman Brauner is a copy editor and staff writer for the New Jersey Jewish News. She blogs at the Times of Israel.