Please note that I am not a biblical scholar, so this blog comes from a place of curiosity and the workings of my own mind, rather than theological knowledge.

This past Saturday, I sat in the sanctuary of a suburban South Jersey synagogue, surrounded by family and friends of my 13 year old cousin Sophie celebrating her entry into Jewish adulthood as a Bat Mitzvah. We have common ancestors. Her great grandmother and my grandmother were sisters. Two of 13 children in the Bernstein clan who went on to bring into the world a daughter (my mother Selma) and a son (Sophie’s grandfather Ron). With me so far?  My mother married my father Moish, from whence came my sister Jan and the one writing this article. Ron married Gladys and gave birth to Rick, Steven and Ted. Rick married Melissa and along came Gabe and Sophie.

Family gatherings, picnics, and splashing in our community pool remain treasured memories. These days we get together for events. The most recent before this one was the wedding of Steve’s son Eric and newest family member Tara back in May. I had the honor of officiating. We always reminisce with “Remember when…” almost wistfulness.

For those who don’t know the ritual, each person who becomes a Bar or Bat Mitzvah -son or daughter of the commandments of Judaism. (Although in the vernacular it is often said that the child becomes Bar or Bat Mizvah’d, it is not a verb, but a noun,)  reads a Torah portion for that particular week, chants what is called the Haftorah, and some cases, leads the service. He or she studies for many months prior to the Big Day with the rabbi, cantor or teacher whose focus is preparation. I remember a time 43 years ago, when garbed in a bright purple dress with cap sleeves, I was perched on the edge of my chair (my mother told me I looked like I was ready to make a run for it) waiting for my cue to step up to the bimah and recite my portion. Back then, young women were not as actively involved in the entire service as Sophie was able to so magnificently be. Her theatrically trained voice made her a pleasure to listen to and she nailed the notes and Hebrew words with flair. I could feel my parents and her grandparents ‘kvelling’-Yiddish for beaming proudly, from the Other Side, just as those of us who were embodied sitting in the sanctuary. Wrapped in a tallis (prayer shawl) that had belonged to my husband and wearing my father’s Israeli embroidered yarmulke, I felt like the tribal lineage into which I was born, was speaking to me, reminding me to pay attention to the messages I was receiving.

As the rabbi explained about the story of Noah, I was mesmerized and already writing this entry in my head. No surprise since nearly every life event is grist for the creative mill. He expressed that Noah and his family were to be spared the devastation of The Flood because he was considered a righteous man-chosen among the others who God thought had taken the world to hell in a  hand basket. Truth be told, Noah was sort of the ‘best of the worst. I hadn’t noticed anything exemplary about him as compared to others of his time. As the story goes, God beckons him to build a sailing zoo and into it, gather his wife, their 3 sons and their wives, along with two of each species of critter to re-populate the planet once the waters receded.

This text from the bible makes me scratch my head in wonder:

“God blessed Noah and his sons, and said to them: “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth. And the fear of you and the dread of you shall be on every beast of the earth, on every bird of the air, on all that move on the earth, and on all the fish of the sea. They are given into your hand. Every moving thing that lives shall be food for you. I have given you all things, even as the green herbs. But you shall not eat flesh with its life, that is, its blood.”

A few things here…if Noah and his family members were the only survivors, then any future generations would come from relationships between siblings or first cousins. Don’t mainstream religious teachings kind of frown on that?  If the world was destroyed because people were not good stewards of the planet, wasn’t the above directive only setting things up for a repeat performance?  Part of the world’s problems as I see it is fear and dread of each other and by the animals of us as predators. The other conundrum is that if Noah was such a good guy, why did he not question the instructions that only he and his family be welcome on board the ark? Was he not concerned about the wellbeing of his neighbors?

The rabbi then went on to explain that Sophie was a beautiful example of stepping forward as a ‘mensch’ (good person) and caring about others. Her Mitzvah Project was reading to children in a Head Start program in Philadelphia and gathering books for them. Her secondary volunteerism takes the form of helping in the kitchen at her synagogue on Bingo nights. In Judaism, the concept of Tikkun Olam is a cornerstone. It translates to ‘repair of the world.’ With her creative tools, commitment to family and community, Sophie is indeed a ‘daughter of the commandments’ and one who will help piece together this fragmented planet. As the rabbi said by way of blessing her, may she go from strength to strength.