Shotgun Simchas

Written by Henny Admoni

Getting Hitched to Religion in the Promised Land

In an effort to make his son Chris smarter and more successful, Peter Griffin – paterfamilias of Seth MacFarlane’s cult-hit cartoon “The Family Guy” – hatches a brilliant plan: he’ll make Chris Jewish. The only hitch? Chris isn’t quite a Torah trope whiz. And so, in an infamously unreleased episode entitled “When You Wish Upon a Weinstein,” father and son road-trip to Vegas to take part in an instant, no-Hebrew-necessary Bar Mitzvah at the “Bar-Bar-Bar Mitzvah Synagogue,” a location on the Strip frequented by those drunkenly seeking to elope with Judaism and presided over by the glitzy Rabbi David Copperfeld and his troupe of Semitic showgirls.

In true sitcom fashion, all is well at the end of the half-hour. Chris is rescued from Jewish adulthood in the nick of time, and the fantasy of a quickie Bar Mitzvah is sadly just that. But not so for Megan Murphy, a recent participant in KOACH’s birthright israel trip: “One night at dinner,” Murphy writes in a testimonial on the program’s web site, “Richard Moline [the head of KOACH] came to our table asking if there was anyone who hadn’t become a Bar or Bat Mitzvah. My hand shot up, and he said that there was an opportunity for me to participate in a ceremony at the top of Masada. I was speechless.” A few days later, looking out over the the Roman ruins, Megan became a Jewish adult.

KOACH – a college outreach program run by the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism – teams up with birthright israel to bring students on free, ten-day trips to Israel each year. In the program’s first year, 14 students became B’nai Mitzvot on top of Masada. And KOACH isn’t the only program offering such a thrill. Other birthright trip providers, such as Canada Israel Experience and Taglit, routinely organize Bar and Bat Mitzvah ceremonies for their attendees as well. These events are often euphoric celebrations. They make birthright israel beyond an introductory trip to the holy land, into a religious – and potentially life-changing – experience.

They also have all the forethought of a Las Vegas wedding. Israel is the perfect setting for Jews to elope with their religion, Masada a striking bima. And as with a Vegas wedding, the union is legal. But without a period of engagement – time to make a considered decision and prepare for the ceremony – how serious can the commitment really be?

For Rachel Davis-Strell, it’s pretty serious. Davis-Strell, who grew up in Salinas, California in an unobservant, intermarried household, participated in KOACH’s birthright israel trip in January of 1999 – mainly, she says, out of curiosity. But when offered the chance to become a Bat Mitzvah, Davis-Strell, along with several other uninitiated members of her group, jumped at it. She didn’t have much time to prepare: “Those trips are so jam-packed,” she recalls, “I was running on empty the entire time.” Nevertheless, the program staff guided the B’nai Mitzvot-to-be through the basics of aliyot. And just days later, during a service on top of Masada, they read the prayer in unison and became Jewish adults. “It really changed my perception of Judaism,” says Davis-Strell of the trip. To this day, she is an active member of her local synagogue.

There are many reasons a birthright participant might want to be called to the Torah for the first time: a newfound sense of history, an act of religious commitment, or, as in Dusty Heist’s case, as a bid for social acceptance. Dusty didn’t grow up Jewish, and hails from a small Pennsylvania town where most people are staunchly Christian. ”They’re all set in their values. I never really identified with that,” he says of his hometown peers. In high school, his few Jewish friends introduced him to their religion, and his interest was piqued. Dusty began his conversion process in college. “It was a lot of trying to understand and reading about Judaism,” he explains. A rabbi at the campus Hillel gave him books on Jewish religion, philosophy and history, and held private sessions to talk through what Dusty had learned. After a yearlong course of Shabbat services, Jewish classes, and reading, Dusty took the name Mordechai, visited a mikvah, and officially became a Jew.

Despite his intense conversion process, it never occurred to Dusty to become a Bar Mitzvah. That is, until he went on March of the Living, a two-week trip to Poland and Israel, in April of 2004. When he signed up, he was looking for a connection with Jewish historical culture. But once on the trip, one of Dusty’s friends said he felt “left out” among the Jewish crowd because he had not had a Bar Mitzvah, and he urged Dusty to undertake the ceremony with him. Dusty was sold. A group leader had a contact in a Conservative synagogue in Israel, and for the remainder of the trip, Dusty and his friend studied the prayers required for their aliyot. During their week-long stay in Israel, both became Jewish adults.

“I’m really happy I did it. It made me feel more legitimate as a Jew, in some ways,” says Dusty. He remembers the experience as an exciting way to be brought into the Jewish community. Before, his circle of Jewish friends had been limited. Now, a group of Jewish students from across the country had come together to affirm his faith.

But why did Dusty need a Bar Mitzvah to get that feeling of community? Birthright israel, and many other Israel tours for American youth, bill themselves as opportunities for the Bar Mitzvah’d and un-Bar Mitzvah’d alike. Many of these programs purposely set a low threshold of Jewish affiliation, precisely to attract unengaged young Jews. And though birthright takes pride in its participants’ eagerness to settle down with the 613 commandments, the ceremonies are not something that is officially part of the birthright mission. “The goal of the program is mainly to expose people to Israel within the context of what it means to the Jewish people,” explains Rich Moline. “It is not to turn people into frum Jews, although that’s a nice byproduct.” Yet this “byproduct” is routinely offered to participants on the KOACH trip – though only once the trip is underway. Once offered the possibility, students have little time to think it over and less time to prepare.

Adult B’nai Mitzvot are nothing new, and for many, 21 may be a better age to make a Jewish commitment than 13. Many temples run an adult Bar and Bat Mitzvah program and some universities offer their students a chance to participate in the ceremony as well. But these programs take several months to a year of study and preparation. And because they are often undertaken by recent converts to Judaism or women becoming more religiously observant, adult B’nai Mitzvot usually go hand-in-hand with well-considered Jewish commitment. Israel programs, conversely, squeeze the ceremony between nightclubbing in Eilat and praying at the Kotel. The ceremony is largely symbolic – much like the connection that birthright itself forges between young American Jews and their spiritual homeland.

KOACH organizes fewer ceremonies now than in its early days. In 1998, when birthright israel was launched, it was a wildly popular program and students often applied to several trips hoping to find space in one. Today, the trip is often targeted toward Jews who are already affiliated – and most of the participants have already had Bar or Bat Mitzvah ceremonies. But a few brand-new Jewish adults still return from Israel every year. And no matter how seriously these B’nai Mitzvot take their new obligations, they haven’t had time to engage in the lengthy process of becoming a Bar or Bat Mitzvah.

In “The Family Guy,” Chris’s Bar Mitzvah is interrupted by his mom, who reminds him that it’s important to think hard before making a religious commitment (she also fends off Rabbi Copperfeld by wielding a Star of David, ninja-style). But birthright students signing on to the covenant don’t have a two-dimensional mom to make sure they’re doing the right thing. Like a marriage, a Bar Mitzvah represents a commitment – instead of getting hitched to your blackjack tablemate, you’re embracing Judaism.

Regardless of their brief preparation period, these ceremonies may in many cases mark renewed faith, an exciting induction into Judaism. Older B’nai Mitzvot may be at a better age to engage with the commandments than their pubescent counterparts. Or the ceremonies may be a means of reaffirming participants’ social status in the group they’re with – heat-of-the-moment declarations of religious fervor whose impact easily fades once the new Bar Mitzvah is home.

In whatever spirit they’re undertaken, birthright Bar Mitzvahs bring all the drama of a traditional ceremony, if none of the candy-tossing and crotchety relatives. Whether the matches made on Masada are made to last, or – like most weddings performed on the Strip – are destined for divorce court, remains to be seen.

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Copyright (C) 2007 Alain Georgette / Copyright (C) 2006 Frantisek Hliva. All rights reserved.