Each of the past two weeks we held meaningful, dynamic Bar Mitzvah services, first, two weeks ago on May 29, led by Jared Eizen, and then, last week on June 4, led by Ezra Goldenberg.
Jared’s parashah was called Beha’alotekha, from the Book of Devarim (Numbers). Beha’alotkha literally means, “in your raising up,” referring to the instructions God gives the Israelites regarding the lights of the menorah in the mishkan, the portable sanctuary playing host to God’s presence as they journey in the wilderness, one of the final steps the Israelites take as they prepare to embark on their journey from Mt. Sinai to the promised land. The very final step, also covered in this paarshah, is the induction into service of members of the Levite tribe who will be taking care of the sanctuary. It is to this last piece of Torah that Jared turned, taking note of the minimum age requirement of 25 to be provide this service to the sanctuary and analogizing it to his own Bar Mitzvah experience, waiting until the age of 13 to be called up the Torah. Jared observed that two elements of his parashah signaled the importance—perhaps even the holiness—of patience. The Levites demonstrated patience, he said, in allowing what I’m calling their spiritual gestation to take place before they were ready to serve, and the Israelites demonstrated a similar patience, recognizing that a similar weathering could be meaningful in preparing to reach the promised land. Jared’s maturity in recognizing the virtue of patience was profound.
Ezra encountered a tumultuous parashah for his Bar Mitzvah called Shelah-lekha, also from the Book of Devarim. Shelah-lekha literally means “send for yourself” referring to the instructions God gives to Moses to send scouts into the promised land to gain a sense of the nature of the land, its inhabitants, and its fruit. In an infamous episode, most of the scouts focus their report back to the Israelites on the threatening nature of the land and its inhabitants, saying that they cannot be overcome. Most of the Israelites proceed to lament their present circumstances, going so far as to say they should return to Egypt. Ezra wisely observed the similarities between this timeless story and our own present circumstances: as we imagine re-entering society in various ways as the pandemic appears to be on the wane, at least in our own community, Ezra imagined himself and others taking for granted the blessings of gathering once again in-person. “It was so much better when I could wake up later,” he imagines himself and others saying, forgetting how lonely, isolating, and trying the pandemic could be at times. That and the rest of his d’var Torah was a profound teaching on being in the moment and attuning ourselves to the blessings in our lives, both in the form of our circumstances, and the people we love, not taking them for granted.
We are grateful for the Torah of these two new B’nei Mitzvah in our community.
