Rabbi Heller's Blog

Despite the tumultuous events of the week and the solemn themes of the High Holidays approaching in less than two weeks, I feel the need to turn inward and reflect on a challenge faced by our community. Each week, we are blessed to enjoy a kiddush meal together, often sponsored by a family celebrating a simcha. Lately, I have noticed a trend in how we relate to kiddush that gives me pause. Often, while the service is still going on in the sanctuary, some of our attendees, not only guests, but even “regulars,” are already well on their way through the buffet or have even sat down to eat. There have even been incidents where members of our community have been rude to catering staff who were not yet ready to open the buffet. This behavior is not reflective of the values that I hope we share as a community. The Torah portion we read this week, Ki Tavo, offers insights that I think are helpful in guiding how we approach the meal that we share together.

Parshat Ki Tavo begins with a message of simple appreciation. At the time of harvest, before the Israelites would consume their first fruits, they would come to express gratitude. On a B’nai Mitzvah Shabbat, our congregation certainly does extend itself to give the family a central role in the service. However, the converse is also true. Sometimes, I will visit another synagogue where the invited guests of a simcha family are ushered into a private room to enjoy a lavish buffet, while the regular guests are treated to egg salad or some stale cookies. At B’nai Torah, we impose a higher level of hospitality: we insist that the entire community be included in the celebration. Every B’nai Mitzvah family has spent thousands and thousands of dollars to treat each and every one of us to lunch afterwards. I would hope that we would instinctively show appropriate gratitude for that gift. Of course, it is also an issue even when there is not a simcha, but the dynamics of a simcha Shabbat seem to exacerbate things.

I am sympathetic to some of the reasons why people feel the need to get food early. People may have limited mobility, may be afraid of missing out on their favorite seat in the social hall, or might be concerned that we will run out of food. We can all get “hangry” as it gets close to noon. Sometimes, the fact that “everyone else is doing it” normalizes behavior that we would normally not consider. I would feel less charitable if the reason was that someone felt entitled by virtue of their perceived importance in the synagogue. I am often one of the last ones into the social hall, but then I remember that life is short, so I eat dessert first. I will grab a cookie to tide me over, then socialize until the line dies down to get my lunch.   

Parashat Ki Tavo includes one of the most dramatic passages of blessings and curses in the Torah. The blessings include military victory, physical vitality, and storehouses full of crops. The curses, brought about if we do not appreciate God’s gifts to us, are the converse of the blessings: military defeat, horrific diseases and starvation, but in far more lurid detail. It's not surprising that we value being first. Being the head, not the tail, is one of the portions core blessings. In contrast, the curses describe a situation where the people are consumed by hunger. The meager rations are not enough to sustain them, and they greedily hoard even the most repulsive food. If being at the end of the line meant not getting to eat, that would be a problem. Fortunately, that is not the situation that we face. Even if we have to wait for 7-10 minutes, there will still be plenty of food by the time that we get to the buffet.  

One of the most distressing categories of curses relates to preparing something and then not being able to enjoy it. “If you plant a vineyard, you shall not harvest it. Your ox shall be slaughtered before your eyes, but you shall not eat of it. A people you do not know will consume all that you have worked for.” Sometimes our families may have an experience that replicates this curse. They have had the experience of having created a beautiful meal and doubling the cost to include every member of the community, not just their own guests, and then find it consumed “before their eyes.” When we are hungry, we may not be thinking about how our actions are perceived.

I’m also concerned about the example that we set for the next generation. Promoting positive and respectful behavior with our children is a key value. If children see adults seeming to disrespect the service, they will certainly have no compunctions about following our lead. In our Torah portion this week, there is a description of an elaborate ceremony where the Israelites actually recite these blessings and curses to each other in front of the next generation. By coming together as a community they reinforce shared values against temptation.

These are not the only issues of decorum that arise for us. We may feel consternation due to cell phones, inappropriate dress in our sanctuary, or general noise level, and those are issues that we also try to address in constructive ways. Children can be disruptive in the sanctuary, but I feel that we need to err on the side of tolerance (even when I personally might find it distracting) because having children and their parents in services is an essential part of what it actual means to be synagogue a synagogue. Frankly, there are much greater challenges we face as a community, let alone as a Jewish people.

In some sense, even this challenge is a sign of blessing. I still remember when, due to COVID, there were only a handful of people in the sanctuary, and kiddush was a cookie eaten outdoors at six-foot distance. We should consider ourselves fortunate to be a congregation that has many celebrations, and often large crowds even without one. The fact that we all join together for a meal, sharing a celebration with people we may not even know, is a gift in the most abstract and the most literal senses. 

Many resolutions have been proposed. “Boarding Groups?” (Imagine using your cell phone during  services to “check in” and  reserve your spot in the kiddush line!). Having the simcha family go into the social hall first? Keeping the doors closed until a signal is given? Making everyone find a seat in the social hall and waiting until we say kiddush together? Maybe we are making too much of this, and folks should just accept that, for some people, being first in the kiddush line is a priority that is too important to compromise? I'm open to suggestions.

What I do know is that the best resolution to this situation is not one that I impose unilaterally. The congregation needs to decide how to define as whole reinforce its values. What I do hope is that as a community we can work collaboratively, with those who care most about our services serving a leadership role, to ensure that our service ends with a sense of dignity and an appreciation of the gifts of plenty that have been shared with us.