When My Own Son Said: “Dad, I Don’t Want a Bar Mitzvah”
My son was twelve years old, and we had just started the early planning conversations for his bar mitzvah. He then dropped the bombshell: “Dad, I don’t want to have one!”
Yes, you read that right. My own son, with a rabbi for a father, told me he doesn’t want a bar mitzvah.
At first, I was taken aback. I grew up in a world where the bar mitzvah was not only a rite of passage but a performance. When I stood on that bimah, it was in front of 500–600 people, lights shining, speeches flowing, every detail choreographed. It was an event. And in many ways, I thrived on that stage.
But my son? He’s different. He looked me in the eye and said with complete honesty:
“Dad, that’s not me. I don’t want that. You’re the Rabbi On Demand—you can create something unique for me!”
And in that moment, I realised something profound.
My son was teaching me. Teaching me that he doesn’t have to follow my path, wear my shoes, or replicate my experiences. That true Jewish identity, true spirituality, isn’t about performance or pressure, it’s about authenticity. About living your own story, not someone else’s.
So we created something new. Something that reflected who he is, not who I was. Something intimate, meaningful, and his own.
I’m proud – so deeply proud. Not because he wanted to reject tradition, but because he was embracing his truth. Because he’s honest enough to say, “That’s not me,” and brave enough to trust that his father will still stand with him.
This is my learning journey as a parent. To step back, to let him lead, to celebrate the person he’s becoming and not the version of me he could be.
As much as I thought I was teaching my son for his Bar-Mitzvah, in reality, he was teaching me.
And you know what? The big day came and he rose to the occasion. In front of just a small gathering of his friends and closest family, he stood up and sang his portion so beautifully and proudly.
I have never been prouder.
