Seeing your children grow is both exciting and scary. Even if everything goes reasonably well—a few years from now you'll look at this handsome young man (he now buys his own shaving cream at the pharmacy, along with who knows what else...)—you look up, literally, because he is so much taller than you are, and think: "Where did my baby boy go?" And if it is a girl... don't even get me started!.. You have all these conflicting feelings: pride, panic, and desperately wanting your babies back—and the Jewish tradition, in its eternal wisdom, provides you with a milestone, as a way to cope and celebrate.
The milestone is thoughtfully placed slightly in advance of the most dramatic changes, to alert you and help you prepare. And a good thing too—soon your child will become what is known as a teenager... Good luck making them learn a Torah portion then!
And if you are panicking at the thought of your child becoming a teenager soon—you don't fully understand the meaning of the word "panic" until you try organizing your first-born's Bar Mitzvah celebration. You know how, if you have a nagging headache and happen to hit your thumb with a hammer, it kind of makes you not feel the headache anymore? In fact, this is the strongest argument I can think of for celebrating the Bar Mitzvah the modern American way: you need this pain as a distraction.
Having touched on panic briefly, let's concentrate on pride. This is, of course, the main reason, the centerpiece of the ceremony—to give yourself, your family and friends, and all others in the community a reason to be proud of your child—and to give your child a chance to experience how good it feels when others are proud of you, of a job well done.
"The main reason?"—you might say. "Isn't the main reason to affirm the continuation of the Jewish tradition, of reading Torah?" Well, yes and no. Because just being able to read a portion of Torah quietly on your own is not enough: you have to come up on the bimah and perform. In front of everybody. And therefore a Bar Mitzvah purpose is twofold: not only carrying on the tradition, but acceptance in the community as well. On one level, the whole process reminds me very strongly of Mowgli and the Jungle Book. You remember how wolf cubs get accepted into the pack? Well, Judaism is a tribal religion, based on common ancestry and values more than on a system of common beliefs. You cannot get away from it. So maybe it is not that surprising to find similarities here. There are worse animal role models than a pack of wolves, that's for sure. So let's develop the topic of a community a little further.
Everyone knows the common theme of many Jewish holidays: "They tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat!" Let me point out another: every personal milestone event implies involvement of the community. Be it brit, Bar Mitzvah, wedding, or funeral, you don't go it alone. Your relatives, friends, members of your community gather around you, and their presence helps amplify your happiness—or share your grief, as the case might be. Celebrating or grieving by coming together with other people is a crucial part of Jewish tradition. You need people around you, and you need to be there for other people—it is as simple as that.
There is wonderful poetry in the mitzvah of making the minyan. You don't have to say anything, do anything, or even know anything—you just have to come and be counted. You have this magical ability of making a difference by just being there. Think about it a minute—how many times just being there for somebody, or somebody being there for you, has made all the difference? Don't we all need the assurance of somebody being there for us, somebody watching over us?..
In a wider sense, we need the presence of other people because it hones our response to what is happening to us. Rabbi Kushner calls this "the vitamin of genuine human contact"—an essential vitamin that we need for our mental and spiritual wellbeing. In fact, his whole sermon on Rosh HaShanah 5771 was devoted to this topic. So when your friends and relatives, and the whole community, gather around you and your Bar Mitzvah child, and your chest swells with pride and joy—take additional comfort in knowing that this is the way it should be, that everybody involved is getting a healthy dose of essential spiritual nutrients...
Here I have to touch a bit on the modern tendency to go overboard with the Bar Mitzvah celebration. "You must have a party! You must hire a caterer, and a DJ, and a photographer, party coordinator, etcetera... custom-made invitations... centerpieces... party favors..." By all means, just as long as you understand that all these details have nothing to do with the actual commandment. As I told my son, a long-long time ago: "No matter whether you have a big or a small party, or even no party at all... you turn 13, you wake up in the morning—and you are a Bar Mitzvah. An adult, responsible for his own actions." Did I really do it this way when the time came? No, of course I hired a caterer and a DJ, and sent out invitations—in other words, did whatever was considered customary and appropriate in our community. I kept it sane, though. And incidentally, if you ever tend to feel overwhelmed, or get carried away, with all the "must" details, just imagine Mowgli with the wolf pack. This should help you regain the right perspective.
OK, we've covered the feelings of pride and panic. As for wanting your baby back... Think about the name of the ritual: it translates as son/daughter of the commandment. So this is not just your child anymore, but also the child of commandment... What better way to remind you that you won't always be in control of your child's life? That as they get older they will start making their own decisions, they'll have their own ideas, start spending their nights out, move away from home, develop their own systems of belief and behavior... With any luck, these systems will be not that different from yours—but really, there is no way to make sure. You do as much as you can—is it enough? You can but hope and pray. Hope and pray that maybe, if it is not just our children, but also children of the commandment, our commandment, there is a better chance of them turning out all right...
L'Chaim!