A proud Rabbi Mark Glickman reflects on daughter's bat mitzvah

On Saturday, May 23rd, my 13-year-old daughter, Shoshana, stood before a congregation of some 200 relatives, friends and fellow community members, and chanted from the Torah, the handwritten scroll bearing the five books of Moses. It was her bat mitzvah ceremony, a celebration of the time when a young Jewish woman reaches the age of responsibility. Shoshana had been preparing for her bat mitzvah for months, and when she sang the words of Torah, I could have sworn the world grew brighter.

Many people believe that a bat mitzvah — as well as its male equivalent, bar mitzvah — marks the time when a young Jew becomes an adult. But those people are mistaken. Anyone who has ever known or been a 13-year-old can tell you 13-year-olds might be a lot of wonderful things, but adults they're not.

Instead, bar and bat mitzvah ceremonies mark the time when a young person becomes responsible for fulfilling the obligations of Jewish life. Only at 13, for example, is he or she required to fast on Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement. Only then does he or she count in a minyan, the quorum of 10 adult Jews required for public worship. Earlier, the young person's parents were responsible when he or she fell short; now the responsibility falls on the shoulders of the young person herself.

The traditional prayer that a father recites at his son's bar mitzvah consists of only five Hebrew words, "Baruch she-p'tarani me'onsho shel zeh." Roughly translated, that means: Blessed is the One who has freed me from being responsible for this kid when he messes up!

Had she lived a century ago, Shoshana would not have been allowed to chant from the Torah. Historically, and still today in Orthodox Judaism, only males read from the Torah. This stems from a concern that women's voices might distract men from fulfilling their sacred obligations, and therefore has men and women sit separately in the synagogue and forbids women from leading public worship.

In fact, the bat mitzvah ceremony itself is a relatively new phenomenon. Most historians date it to March 1922 — only 87 years ago — when the renowned Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan conducted a bat mitzvah for his daughter, Judith. Nowadays, most non-Orthodox denominations celebrate bat mitzvahs the same way they celebrate bar mitzvahs.

During Shoshana's ceremony, she stood strong and confident, wearing a beautiful brown-and-white dress, looking more grown-up than I'd ever imagined. She read from the opening passages of the book of Numbers, detailing the responsibilities of different groups of Levites in caring for the ancient Tabernacle. Later, in her sermon, Shoshana explained this to mean that God has an important job for each of us, and that we each must play our own crucial role in the drama of life.

I watched Shoshana read the ancient words of our people; I saw my own parents sitting in the front row; I thought of the countless other young people through the centuries who have read these very same words. For a moment I stood with Shoshana at the threshold of eternity.

Then, it was my turn. "Shoshana," I said, "you're right — each of us does have an important role to play. Now, it's your turn. Seek out your own role; discover the unique gifts that God has given you to share with us all; find your sacred path and take it.

"We raised a little girl," I continued. "A girl with curls in her hair, a sparkle in her eye, and a passion for talking and playing. And now, look what's happened. You've started becoming a magnificent young woman, ready to face the challenges of the life that lies ahead of you. We need you to succeed, and we know you will."

Tears welled up in my eyes just then, and I had to stop talking. Instead, standing before the ark holding the Torah scroll, I placed my hands on my daughter's shoulders, and recited words of blessing that only she and I could hear.

Shoshana then turned to the congregation, and began living her life as full-fledged member of the Jewish community.

Rabbi Mark S. Glickman leads Congregation Kol Shalom on Bainbridge Island and Congregation Kol Ami in Woodinville. Readers may send feedback to faithcolumns@seattletimes.com