A few weeks ago, I received a call from one of my closest friends.  He was beginning plans for his son’s bar mitzvah in a Chicago suburb and was feeling disenchanted by the process.   

“Was it really like this when we were kids?” he asked, “When did a bar mitzvah become about the party and not about the ceremony?” 

Two weeks ago, the night of all of the tornadoes in the area, I became a bat mitzvah.  Along with four other members of my congregation, I led the service and chanted Torah, giving some of my own thoughts along the way.  Other than the weather, the night went off without a hitch.  It was understated and meaningful, just the way all of us wanted it. 

To me, the bat mitzvah was not about the party.  It was about the ceremony.  It was about my sense of accomplishment, my connection to Judaism, my place in this community.   It was about being with a few close friends and close family. 

Back at my house afterwards, my “party” moved to the basement when the tornado warnings sounded.  This, of course, was the one area of my house that wasn’t clean.  (Incidentally, nothing makes you feel 13 like having all of your friends and family in your basement with you.)

My “centerpieces” included the dirty socks my son had left behind and a half blown up beach ball on my coffee table which my friends graciously deemed “modern art.”  Reggie was nowhere to be found and yet, I had a wonderful time.

In retrospect, I think my feelings are universal, not based on my age.  What any bar or bat mitzvah really gets from the day is a sense of pride and a connection to Judaism.  No matter the venue, becoming a bar or bat mitzvah is a significant day — regardless of what celebration ensues afterwards.  As parents, I believe we would give our children an even more meaningful experience if we keep this in the forefront of our minds as we plan their special day. 

And for the record, I don’t recommend doing a tornado theme.