Rosh Hashana Morning, 2012
Rabbi Rachel Goldenberg
Watching our children climb mountains
“Start by pushing down on the pedal that is up high! Scootch the bike forward and push the pedal up with your foot! Here – let me show you.”
. . . the training wheels came off today.
“But I can’t! It’s not working”
The frustration mounts. . . the tears begin. . .
“I can’t do it!”
“I know you can do it sweetheart – just try moving the pedal up with your foot.”
More tears – “No, I can’t”
“Okay – I think you need to take some time to figure it out on your own.”
Bike thrown on grass.
“Ima!!!Mom!!!”
I take a step back, turn, and walk into the house. It’s all I can do to not look out the window.
I wait. I peek.
Okay, she is on the bike. She is pushing the pedals, once around, twice around –she’s moving! So fast that if she falls, I can’t catch her. And she’s riding, and she’s doing it, she’s doing it – she’s got it!
Oh no! She doesn’t know how to stop!
But there’s nothing I can do, except watch.
She’s on the ground. She’s crying. I give her a squeeze.
She’s fine – nothing broken, not even any blood. Just a scratch or two.
She’s mad. . . how could I allow this to happen!?
But as soon as I turn back towards the house, she gets up, she picks up the bike.
And she’s on it again – riding her two-wheeler for the first time.
We are no longer primitive people who send our children into the wilderness to test their survival skills. But we still have our rites of passage. We each went through our own, and now we watch our children. And we watch our grown children watch their children. Such powerful moments.
In the Torah portion for tomorrow , God comes to Abraham, and puts him to the test. God calls to him, “Abraham!” And Abraham answers, “Here I am.” And God says, “Take your son, your precious one, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the heights that I will point out to you.”
So early next morning, Abraham saddles his ass and takes two of his servants and his son Isaac with him, and he sets out for the place of which God had told him. On the third day Abraham looks up and sees the place from afar.
Abraham takes the wood for the burnt offering and puts it on his son Isaac. He himself takes the firestone and the knife; and the two walk off together, toward the mountain.
Such an unsettling story. Even though we know that it ends with God at the last moment stopping Abraham from plunging the knife into his son, Isaac, the image of what could have been hovers before our eyes. I often avoid talking about this text, because it is so extreme. But what if we were to strip away the image of the knife, and the ropes that bind Isaac to the altar. What if we were to strip away the words, “burnt offering”?
We would be left with a story of a parent who knows what he must do so that his child will someday be able to take it from here, on his own. We are left with a terrifying story of a parent being tested, to put mountains in front of his son, to let his child go and climb them, to know that his son will fall and hurt himself on the way, and that ultimately there will be nothing he can do.
We know it’s the right thing to do for our children. To bind them with our love and then give them over to great challenges and risks. These rites of passage lead our children towards who they are becoming. They will show themselves they can overcome fear and doubt, that they will take their place as adults someday. They can do it. And it is so, so, hard for us to watch.
The two walk off together. Then Isaac says to his father Abraham, “Father!” And he answers, “Yes, my son.” And he says, “Here are the firestone and the wood; but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” And Abraham says, “God will see to the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.” And the two of them walk on together.
Getting up in the morning, saddling the ass – taking our kids on that first step towards the mountain – that is hard enough. But on the journey, the questions begin. The doubts begin.
We have to wonder: who is really being tested here – is it our children – or is it us?
This summer my husband and I visited one of our Reform movement regional summer camps in the Berkshires for their Friday night Shabbat celebration. During a raucous song session with hundreds of campers singing Shabbat songs at the top of their lungs, we took a break and went outside.
There, we overheard the camp director, Debby, on her phone with a worried parent. It was the first week of camp, and this parent’s child was homesick. Debby observed that whenever this child was with someone such as herself who had the power to let her go home, the child would fall apart and cry. But whenever the child was NOT with people who had that power, she was having a great time and completely forgot any desire she had to go home. Debby encouraged the parent to stick it out for another week before coming to rescue her child.
Earlier, as we sat in the outdoor sanctuary, surrounded by lush green mountains, camp counselors wove their reflections about what camp meant to them through the Shabbat service. Over and over again they told the campers, “Here, I finally found a place where I belong, where I can be myself. Here, you can try new things –take risks and do things that you’re afraid to do, whether it’s the ropes course or whitewater rafting. You’ll find yourself doing things you never thought you could, because your Crane Lake Camp community will support you no matter what. You will never be left alone – the CLC family is here for you.”
That was the message – here, you can take risks and push yourself, and we are here for you. As I listened, I thought of the campers’ parents. They too had taken a risk to send their kids to this camp, and they had made a significant financial sacrifice as well. The kids surely test their parents – “Why does it have to be a Jewish camp? Will I have to go to services? What if I don’t make any friends?”
So let me tell you why I believe so strongly that you should do it – so strongly that I will do everything in my power to help you afford it. Through these experiences, our kids form strong bonds to a community of Jewish peers and young adult role models. This bonding happens in the context and language of Jewish culture, values, and spirituality.
Nothing can compare to the immersive experience of living for a few weeks in a supportive, spiritual Jewish community. Jewish camp and youth trips to Israel as well build character, imprint life-long memories and create enduring friendships. Most importantly, these experiences connect our kids to something larger – to something beyond themselves. Kids who feel homesick the first week, beg their parents to let them return the next year. And what do many of them say they miss most when they come home? Shabbat services!
These days one of the most popular physical activities for kids, at camp and elsewhere, is rock-wall climbing and ropes courses. For one person to climb up the wall or the tower, they are connected at one end of a rope to the structure, and at the other end, to a partner who stays on the ground. That partner, the belayer, gives and takes rope, allowing the climber to move farther away and up the structure. The belayer’s job is also to give support and guidance as the climber navigates the challenges of the climb. The belayer has to be just as committed and just as focused during the climb as the climber herself.
This is our job, not only as parents, but as a Jewish community – to lead our children to the mountain, to give them the equipment, those ropes of love and support they need to make the climb, and then to let them go as far and as high as they can.
As Abraham and Isaac approach the mountain, Abraham is the one who lifts up his eyes and sees the place from afar. Isaac doesn’t see it yet. But he does see his father’s devotion – his father’s commitment to bring him to the place, and so they continue to walk up the mountain together.
During his Bar Mitzvah speech this spring, Max Conley spoke of how he saw how his Mom Amy clearly felt that Jewish life was important – he saw her commitment throughout his childhood. I have no doubt that when our kids witness their parents’ commitment, they are better equipped to make a commitment too. I have a feeling it blew many of us away when Max continued in his speech to say that he didn’t want to just be a “High Holiday Jew.”
Our children will test us to see if we are up to the task. In fact, if we show that we are committed, they are much more likely to take on the challenges, even if they themselves are uncertain of why they are doing it.
Sitting in my study with the Brennan family about to embark on the Bat Mitzvah process, I ask Rianna, what does it mean to her that she is becoming a Bat Mitzvah. Her answer? “I’m really not sure. But I know that if I don’t, I might regret not doing it. I guess I’ll find out my reason eventually.”
At that moment, Rianna was Isaac, and her parents were Abraham. They had begun the trek, and Rianna had some significant unanswered questions.
Abraham too must have had his doubts and questions. As they climbed their mountain, I imagine moments when the young Isaac urged his aging father forward – “We’re almost at the top Dad! Come on – you can do it!”
Reflecting on the experience afterwards, Rianna’s mom Belinda spoke of her own doubts. Am I doing the right thing for my daughter? Am I doing the right thing for us? Are we going to make it? Many times she wasn’t sure if she could round the next corner. Many times, she said, she felt that she was led by Rianna.
And for Rianna, the answer did come. After it was over – and she did a beautiful job - Rianna realized that a change had occurred. She now saw that if she hadn’t taken on this huge challenge, she wouldn’t have been able to close one chapter of her life and open a new one. Whereas in the past she may have been afraid of taking on new challenges, she now knew that she had what it took.
Rianna understood that the idea of becoming an adult in the Jewish community actually meant something. She now really did perceive herself as a young adult, and it was clear that the community no longer saw her as that little girl. She was ready to choose what kind of teenager, and eventually, what kind of young woman she wanted to be.
These rites of passage are real. They leave an imprint on our children.
They leave an imprint on us.
In Amy’s words, “Our children pull us into the future. They grab our hand and tug us around the corner with them.” Through our own children, through the youth in our community, we get a glimpse of the future.
Abraham the parent sees the place from afar. But once they make it to the mountaintop, according to the Midrash, Isaac is the one who truly sees. As Abraham lays him on the altar and binds him, Isaac looks up into the heavens and has a vision of God’s throne surrounded by angels. In that moment Isaac has a glimpse of what is Eternal and holy. And it changes him forever.
As we schmoozed at the cocktail hour, after Max’s Bar Mitzvah, Amy captured her experience in yet another image. She saw her kids gaining a sense of mastery and competence with their Judaism that she herself did not possess. As they were learning Hebrew, learning the meaning of the prayers, and studying Torah, she was standing on the sidelines cheering for them as they went on ahead of her, out of sight. She realized that she wanted to have that knowledge and competence too, and to find meaning in her own Judaism.
A phrase echoes twice in the story of the binding of Isaac: “and they walked on together.” This climb is not only for our children – it is for all of us together. Adults can gain so much from learning basic Jewish skills. With knowledge, we empower ourselves to be leaders in our own community, and we uncover new layers of meaning in our own spiritual lives.
Many years ago our congregant David Hays realized that he wanted this knowledge and experience for himself, and he actually enrolled in Religious School, sitting side by side with students in Debby Trautman’s and Rabbi Sagal’s classes! You can read his book, “Today I am a Boy” to learn more about his adult journey toward Bar Mitzvah.
Over the next 18 months, we at CBSRZ are offering our adults that opportunity – to become, as we say in the brochures you received today, “the Jew you want to be.” But you don’t have to do what David Hays did. Evelyn Foster is offering Adult Hebrew classes on Sunday mornings starting September 30th, and I will be offering mini-courses on topics such as the meaning and structure of the prayer service and approaches to Torah study.
Those who commit to the full course of study will have the opportunity, if they are interested, to become Adult Bar or Bat Mitzvah – to chant from the Torah and give a Dvar Torah, a teaching from Torah, during a Shabbat morning service. But these classes are open to anyone who wants to learn more. You don’t have to become an Adult Bar/Bat Mitzvah, and you don’t have to be Jewish to learn with us.
Whether we are starting from scratch or building on background we already have, we can all be role models for each other – our kids for us, and us for our kids.
Of course, ultimately, it will be our children who build our collective Jewish future. At the end of the story, Isaac and Abraham do not walk back down the mountain together. There is something sad about this moment, but there is something so true about it as well. After the vision on the altar, and after Abraham has sacrificed the ram in place of his son, the Torah’s storyline is Isaac’s to take forward, not Abraham’s.
On this Rosh Hashana morning we gather as a community of young and old, and we express our yearning for a future of blessing. In a moment, as our youth join us up here, we will express that prayer in the words and music of the contemporary Jewish composer Debbie Friedman. She quotes the prophet Yoel who sees a time when we will all feel God’s presence, a time when all is made new – a time when the old shall dream dreams and the youth shall see visions.
We are Abraham, the old ones, dreaming dreams – we have bound you up with our love, and we watch as you walk and dance and trip and stumble and get up and keep going into the distance.
We are Isaac, the young ones with the vision – we are pedaling fast around that corner. We might fall. But we’ll get up. We see your commitment, we feel your love. We are ready.
