Bar Mitzvah

Saturday was Yuval's cousin's Bar Mitzvah. The actual ceremony took place in an Orthodox synagogue, which means that the women were separated from the men. It wasn't TOO Orthodox though, which meant that we actually were able to stay on the same level as the men, rather than on a balcony above them, and we weren't separated by a curtain.
As we came into the synagogue, the men all took prayer shawls and prayer books and moved forward to pray. The women, all secular except for the Rabbi's wife, moved to the women's section sans prayer shawls (which would be totally out of place in Israel) and sans prayer books. I sat in between Michal and Tamar who kept discussing shoes, boyfriends, weekend plans, etc. throughout the ceremony. "What's wrong?" Tamar asked. "You look like your concentrating."
"I am concentrating. I come from a very different culture where you don't talk during a religious service."
"I thought that was it." She was quiet for a moment and then resumed talking with Michal.
At one point during the prayer, Orna turned around and said, "Jewish prayer, or all prayer, is really like a meditation. You just lose yourselves in the words. Even if you don't concentrate on what you are saying you can still get lost in the words. It's very beautiful." I noticed that she didn't actually have a prayer book and was talking to her mother.
The Bar Mitzvah boy sang wonderfully when it was his turn to read the Torah. The 90 year old grandfather stood up to read from the Torah as well, but not before winking and giving a thumb's up sign to the ladies section. When he finished, he puffed up his chest and gave a little bow.
After the final time the Bar Mitzah boy sang, the women threw candy, in order to shower him in sweetness. Then, they stood up and began preparing cheeses, breads, fish and vegetables for after the service. After finishing the food preparations and waiting for the service to end, I sat next to Orna.
"I just hate it," she said. "This ceremony only involves the men; it has nothing to do with the women. Here we sit in the back and then prepare the food while they actually take part."
For most secular Israeli's their relationship with Judaism is complex. As with Orna, one minute it is easy to idealize- all of it is so beautiful and so peaceful- and the next minute to criticize- what does any of this have to do with me anyway?
After Orna stood up I sat next to the grandmother. "I think this is nice. I think it does something for me just to be here. Shimon hates this," she whispered, referring to her husband who had stood so proudly to read the Torah. "He thinks its all nonsense. He says, 'where was God when they murdered six million of us? Why didn't he stop it? Who needs a god like that?'"
"And what do you think?" I whispered.
"I think that whoever wants to believe, should believe. I don't personally believe it, but at the same time I sit here quietly and don't interfere. I don't go shouting my opinions." But it still does something just to be there.

After the synagogue we went to what I think is possibly the most gorgeous house in the country. The yard was set up with tables and chairs, a full bar. A separate coffee bar turned the deck into a café, there were already children swimming in the pool and the dj was hard at work.
"The part of the Torah we read at the synagogue covered the rules of keeping kosher," Yuval pointed out, biting into his pork ribs. I reached out for another piece of sushi from the tray of a passing waiter.