SARAH writes:

I would like to share with you a recent experience I had that illustrates why your blog means so much to me. 

On the weekend, my husband and I, along with our two young daughters, were invited to the bar mitzvah of our rabbi’s son. The service itself was pleasantly unremarkable: the bar mitzvah boy read from the Torah, a number of speeches were made and then, at about 11 a.m., the rabbi invited everyone to make their way to the hall (adjoining the synagogue) for brunch. 

Faster than you can say ‘Mazel Tov,’ the hall was full of people, all swarming around the large, beautifully set table in the middle of the hall. The food looked delicious and my daughters (aged 3 and 5) were clearly having trouble delaying their gratification. “Why can’t we just start eating?” they pleaded. I explained to them that the bar mitzvah boy and his family were still making their way to the hall and that it would be rude to start eating before they arrived. “And besides,” I added, “We have to wait for the rabbi to do the blessing over the food.” As far as I was concerned, both common decency and religious convention were dictating the rules of play in the synagogue hall that morning. The girls accepted this explanation without question until, only moments later, we found ourselves surrounded by scores of people helping themselves to as much food as they could fit on their plates. Everywhere I looked bagels and muffins were being devoured, pancakes and pastries too. Needless to say, my daughters were completely confused by what was happening, especially in light of what I had just told them. A small number of people (mainly the older guests and the handful of religiously observant) stood firm and waited for the rabbi, but most didn’t. There was an elderly English woman standing next to me who kept shaking her head and asking, of nobody in particular, “What is the world coming to?” In a state of obvious exasperation she finally turned to me and said with sadness in her voice, “They should know better.” Aside from agreeing with her about it being a very disheartening spectacle, I didn’t know what else to say. The truth of the matter was that I wanted to scream. I wanted to take the microphone and demand to know where all the adults had gone. I wanted to publicly thank everyone in the room for undermining my ability as a parent to teach my children common courtesy and the ability to delay gratification. But anger soon gave way to a sense of hopelessness. I looked over at my children and, for a moment, was almost overcome with despair. What a world to be born into – it seems it really is every man for himself. Tears started welling in my eyes. I looked over at the old English lady. At least she has known what it is like to live in a society where common decency is the norm, I thought to myself. My children may never be so lucky. I wanted to go home and get away from the madness, but I stuck it out and, as the morning wore on, I found myself thinking every so often of your blog and its message, and I felt uplifted. 

Jewish tradition teaches that ‘you are not obligated to complete the task, but neither are you free to desist from it.” I think this could be the motto of your blog too.  

Thanks again for your beautiful blog.

Laura writes:

Thank you very much.

I think your children learned a valuable lesson. Manners in a world such as ours are a private mark of distinction, a small form of rebellion, a solitary stand against chaos.

                                           — Comments —

Lawrence Auster writes:

It sounds to me as though the people simply didn’t know that they were supposed to wait for the rabbi to come to the room and give the blessing over the food before they began to eat. Consider it from their point of view: they entered a room where they found heaps of delicious looking food waiting, they hadn’t been told to wait for the rabbi’s blessing before they began eating, and there was nothing for them to do but eat, so naturally enough they began to help themselves. It was an awkward and confusing set-up. It wasn’t like sitting down at table, and the food is before them, and a prayer is said. In that circumstance people naturally understand to wait for the prayer before they eat. The rabbi might have told them to wait until he came and gave the blessing, but he didn’t tell them; he gave them no instructions or guidance.

Let’s put it this way: people are accustomed to prayer at table. But prayer at buffet? That’s much less familiar. It doesn’t fit with normal expectations in our society. Buffets are common at parties. People enter the room where the party is being held, the buffet is laid out, and they start to help themselves. So they naturally behaved that way here as well. 

Again, in this instance, I do not blame the eaters; I blame the rabbi and the hosts who gave no guidance to the guests but put them in a situation where the natural and normal reaction was to start eating.

Laura writes:

It wasn’t just the matter of a blessing, but the absence of the boy and his parents, who were the hosts of the event. Normally at a social event, guests don’t start eating if the hosts are not present. Sarah’s assumption that it was wrong to eat without the guest of honor was the right one. But it does sound as if it was confusing for the guests and would have been better if they had not been led into the room with food until the hosts were ready and present.

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