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January 22, 2009 - Image 36

Resource type:
Text
Publication:
The Detroit Jewish News, 2009-01-22

Disclaimer: Computer generated plain text may have errors. Read more about this.

INTERFAITH

A Big Victory For
The Home Team

Ann Arbor

I

am a University of Michigan
basketball fan — have been all
my life. I grew up in Ann Arbor
and graduated from U-M. After years
of my team getting kicked
around by many a good
school (and a plethora not
so good), I finally see light
at the end of the locker
room. So when Duke came
to town in early December,
I was going to make sure to
be at Crisler Arena. Three
days before tip-off, my wife,
Bonnie, told me that we had
a special program at the
synagogue for our daughter
Molly's fourth grade class.
Doh!
"So what's the program
about?" I asked.
Bonnie said that it was all about
Havdalah — the ceremony we cele-
brate at the end of Shabbat. Havdalah,
I would come to learn that Saturday,
means separation or distinction.
You can think of it as the distinction
between the holy and the profane,
the Sabbath and the other days of the
week.
In our family, we have a distinction
of our own: the mom and daughters
who are Jewish and the dad who is
Protestant. But it is only a distinction
— not a separation. We go to temple
as a family. Yet, here I was faced with
another distinction: the world of
sports and the world of our daughters'
religious education. It only took me a
couple of seconds, however, to know
that the latter trumps the former.
I resolved the situation with a com-
promise (distinct from a hard-line
stance). I would have time to take
Molly with me to the first half of the
game. We would then leave to meet
Bonnie and other daughter, Gabbi, in
time for the program at the temple. I
would TiVo the game on ESPN, so I
could watch the end later that night.
(Just nobody tell me who won before
I see it!)
That Saturday, all was going to plan.
Molly and I cheered the Wolverines
to a 32-30 halftime lead. We grabbed
our jackets and walked up the aisle
to the exit (to a chorus of "Where you

going?" and "You can't leave now!") We
would just have to find out the conclu-
sion courtesy of TiVo.
At temple, we enjoyed a great pro-
gram put on by Molly's teacher and
a Jewish educator. We made braided
candles and spice bags. We
discovered another distinc-
tion, between light and dark
as we held our fingertips up
to the candles and watched
the shadows on our palms.
We learned that the way
our family pronounces Hav-
DA-lah is a Yiddish way.
The leader of the program
pronounced it the Hebrew
way, Hav-da-LAH. Our girls
thought this sounded weird
and made up a song during
the ride home. Something
about Godz-il-LAH cel-
ebrating Hav-da-LAH!
The teacher also told us to look for
three stars in the sky before begin-
ning Havdalah. (To this day, Gabbi and
Molly like to look for three stars on
any night of the week. Then they start
singing,"Godz-il-LAH, celebrates Hav-
da-LAH!" What ya gonna do? Kids.
At the end of the program, we all
sang Eliahu Ha-navi. Unfortunately,
the only heralding came from a father,
fully festooned with Michigan gear, as
he arrived from the basketball game
to pick up his daughter. "Did you hear?
Michigan beat Duke 81-73!"
Doh!
It was then that I learned about
another distinction: my wish to see a
big game and my overwhelming desire
to spend precious time with my family.
More importantly, I reaffirmed where
these priorities fall — who starts and
who sits on the bench. It doesn't mat-
ter that my TiVo moment was spoiled.
There will be other games. My chil-
dren are only young once. I'd make
the same choice every time. ❑

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