Andrew Makes Ten

In order for a Jewish service to be considered official, a quorum or minion of 10 adults need to be present. This is particularly important for congregants who attend so they can say Kaddish, the prayer for a loved who recently passed away. Our synagogue looks for ten men and women, more traditional congregations require ten men.

Preparation met reality last night, as Andrew, Danny, Jordan and I arrived at the Synagogue for Saturday night services. Andrew's responsibilities as a Bar Mitzvah is to attend and participate in the congregation's week-day prayers. Tonight was the first in that series of services, which culminates on Saturday.

The service starts; Danny leans over to me and says, "Andrew made the minion."

To understand how significant this is to Danny and I, you need only to think about our childhood synagogues in Fargo and Minot. Our congregations were small, and so every person counted. Without a minion, there was no service. Without a minion, those who were observing the anniversaries of a loved ones' passing, also called aYahrzeit, could not say Kaddish.

Growing up, Danny was often called to make the tenth man for a week-day service. He did so without hesitation. No matter if he was hanging out with friends, or had other obligations, he would drive over to the Shul (another word for synagogue) and join the service. Danny feels a deep obligation and sense of pride for completing this mitzvah.

So when Danny remarked that Andrew made the minion, I considered it an interesting observation. However, when Andrew leaned over and asked me what he said, I looked at Andrew and a flood of emotion came over me that made me speechless. Fighting back tears, memories rushed my mind of my own little synagogue with the red carpet, brown alphabetized pews, stain-glass windows and small social hall in the lower level. The lower level was a reference my grandfather, as the congregational lay leader, would affectionately call the basement when asking congregant to join hims for the post-service Kiddush. Andrew made the minion, the tenth adult. At that same moment, the reality that my kid was old enough to make the minion was powerful.

Andrew and I exchanged a look as my eyes welled up, and we both let out a little giggle. Andrew was then called to open the Ark to  take take out the Torah and read this week's portion, his portion. As Andrew walked back from the Ark, Danny rushed the aisle to drape his Bar Mitzvah tallis on Andrew. The lay leader for the service undressed the Torah and gently opened the scrolled to find the location where Andrew's story was written.

Andrew, the lay leader and a third man who served as the Gabi, or ritual assistant, looked across the scroll looking for the specific passage. Watching these three look for the paragraph was like witnessing the convergence of centuries of the Jewish people. I had to catch my breadth. Watching this moment was amazing, beautiful.

Andrew then began to read and he did a terrific job. We were so proud. Just as momentous was to watch the lay leader and the Gabi smile and look so pleased with his delivery. Following the service they were so kind and complemented his delivery, by saying that he had a great mastery of the reading. We were so proud.

Following the service, we were invited to a light dinner with the nine other congregants. The average age was probably 70, however, sitting there breaking bread felt ageless. After our nosh, we returned to the chapel for the Havdallah service. This service marks the end of the Sabbath. I love it because it engages the senses beyond seeing and hearing. A braided candlestick, a spice box and a glass of wine are the ritual objects (heat, smell and taste). It's beautiful and inclusive. That's why it's my favorite.

Andrew led this service as well, and then we were done. We walked out of the chapel with such a sense of belonging. This service in many ways was an affirmation, that yep, this is why we're doing this. A bar mitzvah is an introduction to a broader community. It's an introduction to a broader sense of being. For us, it's an introduction to Andrew, as an adult.  (...ooo I just got chills!)