Called to Controversy Read Online Free Page B

to a small neighborhood synagogue to perform the proper rituals.
    â€œHow come I don’t get to do it on Saturday, like the other guys?” Moishe had asked when his father first broached the subject.
    â€œYou do it on Saturday and the whole shul ** is there. Everyone expects a big party after.”
    â€œYeah,” Moishe nodded. “I know.” He didn’t mention that he’d worked hard at learning the Hebrew and wanted to celebrate his accomplishment, or that a nice reception afterwards would show that his dad was proud of him.
    â€œYou want a big party?” Ben frowned. His son did not usually ask for such things.
    â€œSure. Why not? It’s a big deal, a bar mitzvah, right?”
    â€œYou know how much a party like that costs?”
    Moishe looked down. He knew his family didn’t have a lot of extra money to spread around, but he didn’t think they were that poor. Not anymore.
    Then a painful thought occurred to him. Maybe his dad wasn’t proud of him and didn’t want the whole shul to witness his bar mitzvah. Moishe knew that he sang off key. One might think that singing the scriptures to the appropriate minor key melodies would make it easier to remember the Hebrew words, but not for Moishe. Somehow the elusive notes would not stick in his head the way they were supposed to. Singing only seemed to make it harder. Not only that, but he had a bit of a stammer and that was bound to come out if he tried merely speaking the words.
    So he sighed in resignation. Maybe doing it on Thursday wasn’t such a bad thing after all. He certainly would not be the first bar mitzvah to enter into manhood through the downstairs classroom of the synagogue instead of the upstairs sanctuary.
    Every Thursday morning a minyan (quorum of ten Jewish men needed for prayer) met at the synagogue to listen to the rabbi teach a Talmud class in Yiddish. On the designated day, father and son arrived at the synagogue and went directly downstairs where they joined twelve to fifteen older men sitting around a large table. Moishe knew many Yiddish words, but unlike his parents, he did not speak the language fluently. Consequently, it was difficult to concentrate on the lesson.
    Finally the rabbi finished his remarks, and with no fanfare, the bar mitzvah proceeded. A couple of men placed the Torah scroll on the table, unrolling it to the text for the day. With a yarmulke (skullcap) on his head and tallis (prayer shawl) around his shoulders, Moishe approached the scroll and began the first blessing as best as he could: “Barachu et Adonai Ha-me-vorach.”
    The men around the table sang back to him, as per tradition: “Baruch Adonai ha-me-vorach le-olam va-ed.”
    Taking a breath, Moishe continued: “Baruch ata adonai, eloheinu melech ha olam asher bacher banu mi kol ha’amim, v’natan lanu et torato, baruch ata adonai notein ha torah. Amen.”
    One man stood beside the boy, holding a yad (literally hand). The long-handled silver pointer was a reminder that the Torah is sacred and not to be touched by human hands. Moishe was glad enough for the traditional helper to hold out the long pointer so that he could keep his place in the ocean of Hebrew words before him.
    Moishe had not completely memorized his portion, but since he had learned how to read Hebrew, he thought he would recognize any words he did not know by heart. Unfortunately, the Hebrew he’d studied had vowel points, and the Torah scroll had none. This slowed him down considerably. As for the melody, Moishe chanted the Scripture portion in a singsong style that he could only hope sounded something like the appropriate chant.
    When he finished, once again he recited the proper blessing. He looked half expectantly at the rabbi, who smiled and nodded, but did not ask him to give a speech. The other men likewise smiled and nodded, but offered no words of encouragement or congratulation. He returned to his seat.
    Ben