Yesterday, Shabbat Ki Tavo, may have been one of the most meaningful Shabbatot of my rabbinate. About a year ago, I stood with a woman who is developmentally disabled at her mother’s grave for her mother’s yahrzeit. She hadn’t really understood the pandemic or why our congregation wasn’t serving food at most events. She doesn’t really have a computer and while she has a cell phone she doesn’t understand all of its features. Her voice mail function is frequently full and she can disappear for days at a time.  

Yet standing at her mother’s grave she read a couple of poems beautifully in English. I didn’t know she could do that. I asked if she had ever had a Bat Mitzvah. She answered, “No.” She had been told she could never have one because she would never be able to do it; she was not intellectually capable.  

Now, back in the day, a Bat Mitzvah was still new. This year, 2022 marks the 100 anniversary of a formal ceremory took place at Society for the Advancement of Judaism, the spiritual home of Rabbi Mordechai Kaplan, founder of Reconstructionist, now Reconstructing Judaism. He hosted the first Bat Mitzvah for his daughter Judith. I am a product of that “innovation.” There was never a question that once we moved to Grand Rapids, that I would have a Bat Mitzvah, that I would read from a Torah scroll and prepare some speech. Those battles had been fought already.  

As I listened to this grown woman read English so well, I asked her if she would like to have a Bat Mitzvah ceremony. She had never heard of such a thing. “Can someone my age have a Bat Mitzvah?” she asked in child-like wonder. Adult B’nai Mitzvah can be very meaningful. For a variety of reasons, many Jews never had one at age 13. Some never notice a lack. Some become re-engaged as an adult and feel they missed something. Some use it as a measure of learning something new and mastering a skill. Some use it as a celebration of life itself. And some use it as an opportunity to have a celebration—with lots of food! 

We left the cemetery and went to a local coffee shop. There we began to plan. Her big request was to have the celebration part—lots of food and if we aren’t serving food at CKI could we please go to a restaurant. I assured her there would be a celebration—and food! We talked about what part of the service she would like to do. Shortly after our meeting, everything went back to Zoom with a spike in COVID numbers. I didn’t think too much about my promise to this women. But she and her case managers did. We kept trying to set a date that seemed reasonable. But COVID-19 had other plans. 

This weekend, after much study on her part—and many stops and starts and meetings at the synagogue, on the phone, at a coffeeshop and even the Elgin Bus Station—she finally stood on the bimah, and with a clear voice led us in the Sh’ma. But she didn’t stop there. She stood right next to me and led us in all the Kaddish prayers and the Amidah. And then the big moment arrived. She held the Torah and led us in the SH’ma. She recited her aliyah blessing. And she read the translation of her Torah portion and her Haftarah portion. These words are not capturing it. Quite simply it brought people to tears.  

As my ritual chair explained, the service was fantastic because she was so pure. She turned to me after most of the service was over and said, “Did I do good? I think they liked me.” I reassured her, that yes, they most certainly did. She loved when people threw candy at her. She was nervous. She concentrated really hard. And her smile was amazing. She herself is a blessing. When we talked about the blessing of the Torah, the aliyah blessing which says that Torah is a gift, I asked her how Torah is a gift. She answered, quickly, “because it makes you feel better about yourself.” She gets it. At a deep, profound level.” 

I don’t want people to misunderstand. While this weekend may have been one of my most profound Shabbatot as a rabbi, it wasn’t easy. It was never clear as recently as last weekend whether this was really going to happen. She would forget appointments, get shy and not show up, get angry or frustrated and then I would get frustrated. There were some back up plans that thankfully we didn’t need to use. I was nervous—what if this doesn’t work. What if she doesn’t rise to the occasion. What if she doesn’t show up? And in a reflection of her own voice, what if people don’t like me or get angry with me? 

Her portion was about blessings (and curses). The series of blessings includes being blessed in your going out and your coming in. I offered her the Birkat Hakohanim, the priestly benediction. And then, it was time for the celebration. Our first real kiddush since the pandemic began. Offered by our Lutheran kosher caterer who has known this woman since she was 5, as a gift. I sat with this woman and her two case managers. It was so fun. 

Later that evening, the congregation, together with Temple Beth Sholom, celebrated Selichot together. This is the first real service of the High Holy Days. It introduces the music and the themes of these holy days. One piece of liturgy says that tefilah, prayer, teshuvah, return or repentance, and tzedakah can avert the severe decree. For several weeks, leading up to this Bat Mitzvah, I had been asking people what it means to pray. I got answers like “asking for something” and “saying thanks” and having a relationship with G-d. I knew that with this Bat Mitzvah there would still be questions about whether she could do it—even if it would be permissible to do this. My answer was yes! But I also understood why people might be uncomfortable. I understood why back in the day people—her mother, her teachers, the rabbi, might have said she could not have a Bat Mitzvah. But I also knew I had worked with lots of kids with special needs and that this could, in fact, be possible. I also knew of a movie, Praying with Lior” about a boy with Downs Syndrome preparing for his Bar Mitzvah. I knew as part of Selichot and a discussion of prayer I wanted to show this movie.  

We began the service with Havdalah, the separation of Shabbat from the rest of the week. And a series of prayers, including The 13 Attributes of the Divine. G-d taught Moses to pray the 13 Attributes to ask for divine forgiveness. It is the basis of the whole liturgy for this season and it begins this very night. It was also part of my Bat Mitzvah Torah portion, the reason I finally became a rabbi, the basis of my rabbinic thesis and my first book. But I couldn’t hear the Beged Kefet version of the haunting Adonai, Adonai without hearing the echos of my own Bat Mitzvah. Lior’s father, himself a rabbi, said that Lior when he is praying has “less veils”, perhaps the word is inhibitions. He prays because he wants to. He prays because he has a deep connection to G-d. This was true for my Bat Mitzvah student as well.  

On the night of Selichot—originally done just before dawn or at midnight—the gates are open. There are less veils. It is easier to be connected.  

Avinu Malkeinu—Our Parent, Our Ruler, be gracious and answer us. Sh’ma Koleinu—hear us. Hashiveinu—return to us and we shall return. Renew our days as of old.  

Connection was a theme that ran through the movie. Prayer is connection. Prayer is part of community. The Orthodox Day School rabbi told Lior’s class the most important part of mincha is to daven with the people, to say amen to someone else’s prayer. Lior and my Bat Mitzvah give us permission to pray. One of Lior’s classmates said that G-d give everyone a test. Someone during selichot reframed that as gives us opportunities to learn. But the classmate continued that part of that test is how we respond. How we treat Lior or my Bat Mitzvah student. To answer Amen fully and with compassion.  

No one wis ever quite ready for the High Holy Days, but given this weekend, I go into them better prepared, ready to help others to answer Amen.  

People do ask me how I prepare. I prepare for month ahead. Thinking about themes. Reading books.  

Here are some of my selected books: 

• Preparing Your Heart for the High Holy Days: A Guided Journal, Rabbi Kerry Olitzky 
• This Is Real and You Are Completely Unprepared: The Days of Awe as a Journey of Transformation, Alan Lew 
• Opening Your Heart with Psalm 27: A Spiritual Practice for the Jewish New Year, Rabbi Debra Robbins 
• Moments of Transcendence: Inspirational Readings for Yom Kippur 
• A Climbing Journey Towards Yom Kippur: The Thirteen Attributes of the Divine, Rabbi Margaret Frisch Klein 

 This year I dove into two new ones: 

• God Is Here: Reimagining the Divine, Rabbi Toba Spitzer 
• On Repentance And Repair: Making Amends in an Unapologetic World, Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg 

Then I spend time selecting readings and writing. Lots and lots of writing. This year we are focusing on “From Surviving to Thriving: Making our Days Count.” It is based on the idea from Psalms, “Teach us to number our days that we may attain a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12). It is part of how we come out of this pandemic. It also has to do with how we celebrate our congregation’s130th anniversary. It is great that we remain standing, that we survived, but the question is how to we thrive?  

This weekend, we learned how to pray, how to gain a heart of wisdom and perhaps, just perhaps, how to thrive.  

I’m not ready yet—but I am closer. Lior and my Bat Mitzvah student helped.