I was recently called by a journalist working on a story for Parenting magazine. She asked me to tell her about tangible items that I use in my home to indicate it is Hanukah. I immediately launched into my “I make potato latkes while my children sit around the kitchen island and wait with plates of applesauce to eat them hot off the pan” story. But that wasn’t what she was looking for.
“I don’t want to know about food. The article is also about Christmas and talks about trees and lights and decorations. What does Hanukah have?” So, I told her about dreidels and menorahs and bowls of chocolate gelt (which I know is a food, but I said it was a centerpiece on the kitchen table to make it more of a decorating accent then candy.)
But, that got me to think. What are the objects, besides food (and ingredients to make food), that make a Jewish home? I thought about my childhood home and remembered the little things—like the Jewish calendar, the one from the butcher that always hung in our pantry. The yarhzeit candles for my grandfathers that appeared twice a year. I can think of many things in my home now—but I wanted to know if any of it had made an impression on my children—if they realize what makes our home different from a non-Jewish home.
So I sent them on a scavenger hunt. Armed with pencil and paper, they roamed the house. I wasn’t surprised by what they came back with—they had seen a menorah, a shofar, Kiddush cups, Shabbat candlesticks, yarmulkahs, mezzuzot, Jewish books and a challah cover. But they added “parents.” I liked that they included us in the list of what makes our home Jewish.
Which made it all the more surprising when I attended our synagogue Board retreat and learned that synagogues have had to take on a new role lately—mentor. Offering such thing as kosher cooking classes because parents don’t know how to cook—somehow the lessons that were supposed to be passed down from parent to child, weren’t.
Believe me, I realize that if you’re reading the Jewish Times, I’m preaching to the choir, but indulge me. I truly believe that as parents, we, more than anyone or anything, are responsible for the continuation of Judaism. Not only in physically having Jewish children, but in modeling what a Jewish home should be. This ranges from hanging a mezuzah, to lighting Shabbes candles, to making latkes on Chanukah. It means leaving the Jewish Times on your coffee table (after you’ve read it) to show your children that the local Jewish community is important and should be supported. And even more than having Jewish things, as parents we must model Jewish values—from welcoming guests to refraining from spreading gossip.
I know the kind of mom I am is the direct result of the example set by my parents. Again, at the Board retreat, the rabbi asked how many of us had parents who were active on their synagogue boards. An overwhelming majority of hands went up. So it truly is “do as I do” when it comes to parenting. If you want Jewish religion and tradition and culture to be important to your children (and, one day, to your grandchildren) it is crucial that it be important to you now. Don’t drop and run when your children attend b’nai mitzvah, make Shabbat important, teach your children about Israel, and talk to them honestly about your beliefs.
And if you’re already doing all of this? Do more. Model for your friends. Invite a family who doesn’t normally celebrate Shabbat over for dinner Friday night. Do you bake your own challah? Ask a friend over for coffee Friday morning after the kids leave for school. Teach her how to bake (and braid) challah and send her home with a fresh loaf—as you know, it only takes one bite of a homemade challah to get you hooked! Host a Chanukah party. Serve brisket and latkes. Spin dreidels. And wrap presents that you’ll donate to Toys for Tots (or similar).
We’re all busy. But we also all find time for what we want to find time for. No excuses. The future of Judaism is in your hands. Does this sound like a lecture? Well, I can’t help it. After all, I’m a Jewish mother.
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