Rabbi Peter H. Grumbacher, Rabbi Emeritus of Congregation Beth Emeth
A teacher in an out-of-state synagogue recently informed me about a movie she believed would be good for teens to watch. She went on to say, “I think it would benefit their Jewish identities more than Legos and sidewalk graffiti.” I’ve heard such fun-and-games is the trend of some congregations . . . let them have fun! Indeed, such schools seem to be in the business of pedagogic entertainment with a dab of Judaism thrown in for good measure.
As one who served my congregation as its Director of Education for a decade in the early 1970s, I was surely not a purist in terms of content; a little bit of fun couldn’t hurt. However, what I realized then, and more so over the passing years, is that kids of every generation are smarter than we are. They are well-aware of why they should be in religious school, so when the content of each Sunday morning is pap, they object to being there in the first place, and object they should. There should be joy in the experience but there should be substantive content to inspire as well as to teach the students.
The “usual” curriculum in religious school for grades K–five should be focusing on our holidays, our rites-of-passage, Matriarchs and Patriarchs and the lessons we can learn from their good and not-so-good deeds, and, of course, Hebrew with emphasis on the selections in our liturgy.
But, in grade six, the school should offer a foundation for the upcoming B’mitzvah, which in most cases is celebrated in grade seven. B’mitzvah can be a profoundly meaningful experience if the lead-up emphasizes that the “theme” (in addition to that of sports, wardrobe, music, etc) is—as my own kids rolled their eyes over—Torah, mitzvot, chukim u’mishpatim, or in more understandable terms, the responsibilities of being an adult Jew who can and should make a difference in society.
There should be a regular component of hands-on mitzvot; and, on a regular basis, parents should be required to be a part of the sixth grade discussions and experiences. That way, when the student receives their portion to learn as well as those sections of the Shabbat service they are expected to lead, there will already have begun a partnership—school, synagogue, parent, and child—creating the foundation leading to not only learning the material but putting it in the context of the complete package of Jewish responsibility which they have covered (in part, at least) in the year prior to their B’mitzvah.
Eighth grade is the make-or-break time. Kids are hormonally challenged, being even more utzy than they were earlier; sitting in a classroom for a couple of hours is virtually impossible.
We decided to make eighth grade a once-a-month experiential year, and we found that the theory was proven. That theory stated, keep a child shackled to the chair and they will resent every aspect of the synagogue experience, dropping out will be the sad conclusion. Well, while our kids rarely dropped out anyway, this eighth-grade experiment was well-received and indeed resulted in even more who went on to ninth- and 10th-grade with Confirmation, the official culmination of the educational experience. Furthermore, we offered our post-Confirmation youngsters the chance to be student teachers and most signed up and stuck with it.
Now, let’s focus on an incontrovertibly significant component in the entire endeavor, even prior to registration in a synagogue’s religious education program, namely the attitude of the parents. Over 50 plus years, especially during the decade in which I was my congregation’s educator as well as Associate Rabbi, I came to appreciate that a positive parental perspective about religious education is vital, absolutely vital, for a successful experience for the students; a negative attitude can be, shall we say to be crystal clear, the “kiss of death!”
I recall only one parent who was blatant in their unconscionable attitude. On the Monday after the B’mitzvah of his child, a father walked into the synagogue office where I happened to have been standing at the moment, and said right in my face, “Nice knowing you, Rabbi. My kid’s done with his Bar Mitzvah. We’re quitting.”
Yes, that was chutzpah-dik beyond words, but scores of parents drop out and, unfortunately by doing so, teach their offspring that the ultimate goal of affiliation is B’mitzvah. “Jewish identity??” A good bagel with schmear will take care of that (well, maybe more than Jewish legos will). No indeed . . . it takes more than gastronomical Judaism.
There has to be the knowledge that, while the synagogue is important in the process, it is not the exclusive realm of fashioning the Jewish identity of our offspring. What the child experiences as a family; what the conversations entail; what books are on the shelves, these and more when found in the home well before the first “bell” of religious school, are necessary prerequisites in building a solid Jewish identity.
If we can inculcate the significance of doing in our tradition and the textual bases for it, then once B’mitzvah is over there might be a good chance that parent and child will realize why their education shouldn’t end, and why continued affiliation also gives the youngster the message of commitment to the synagogue and what it represents. And that might be the message of the century to keep Judaism and the synagogue alive and well!
