Day two of the celebrations
The second day of my great nephew’s barmitzvah celebrations proved to be full on and in the same orthodox vein as the first. I walked to synagogue first thing with my sister-in-law. This was a modern building a community centre adapted to a synagogue with 2 separate areas for men and women. A young rabbi, who could only be in his thirties, an American, again addressed us on the portion of the Torah read, the contrasting personalities of the two sons of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
I like my nephew’s wife very much. Despite having borne seven children and still in her thirties, she looks good and her Italian grandmother has bequeathed strong looks down the maternal line. Both her mother and her mother’s mother were present. Because of her orthodoxy she cannot shake hands with a man and she dealt with this directly but with a certain charm by saying on one occasion
“Please do not be offended but my religion prevents me from shaking hands.“
After the service it’s customary to have reception called a kiddish. Here much food but little alcohol is served. After this we were going to lunch but my nephew’s wife seemed stressed by the caterers failing to turn up to set out the food for lunch, the requirements of her grandmother and possibly the demands of the day itself with one celebration following so soon after another. My daughter in law took over, organising all the children and we set off in line to my nephew’s home, and then to the lunch. Orthodox Jews do not drive on the Sabbath so there was much walking as we had to proceed after that to another community centre for a buffet lunch. At this two guests again analysed the portion of the Torah. By this stage I was feeling quite an expert on the respective personalities of Jacob and Isaac.
I was also feeling tired but had to undertake another long walk in the street along the North Circular back to the hotel. Here I managed a couple of hours sleep.
In the evening there were photographs and another reception in Golders Green. Fortunately with Sabbath over we could drive. The barmitzvah boy gave his take on – you guess’s it- the portion of the Torah he read.
It was a room with low ceiling with powerful neon lights and little air, so I made my excuses and left when a lift was offered by my cousin Lionel. His father, my father’s brother, attended Exeter College, Oxford with Roger Bannister and Lionel was intrigued when, in getting to know Roger Bannister, he sent me the the letter my uncle wrote to him in May 1954 when he broke the four minute mile.
Over the 24 hours of religious observance I wondered more than once what it is to lead a life where the bible is so important and which in regard to women and other issues is so different from the times.
The answer I suspect I would get is that religion, not society, is then constant. By staying within the confines of their community they are far more impervious to the secular world. It’s not for me to judge nor be judged. The community’s charity work in impressive, the family unit is strong. My nephew has to deal with one son with an implant to make him hear and various other deficiencies. the little just 11 bears with considerable spirit.
Does his father question why the Lord permitted such ill health for one of his Chosen People? I dared not ask. Perhaps privately they they wonder how and why I have such little faith. Certainly I was received with great warmth with the first greeting from my nephew’s wife being
“Uncle,we are really honoured that you are here with us.”
For me this overrode the religious and spiritual divide.