New York's Central Synagogue. Photo: Wikipedia.

Like many other parents, my children are the most important people in my life. They are smart, good kids, and I cherish them. I take pride in all that they do. They are the great-grandchildren of Holocaust survivors; the product of Zhanna, a Russian Jewish mother whose ancestors survived World War Two and socialism, and my family who had 70 family members killed in the Holocaust. They have the freedom today to attend a modern Jewish day school and live in this great country. I am proud and happy with them every single day.

I work hard and long hours during the week. When Friday comes, I am always in a rush to get home. I look forward to attending synagogue, for it serves as an excellent bridge for me between the hectic nature of work, and the balance and beauty of my family and my life. That simple hour in shul Friday evening is a special time. My children are still very young, but whenever I can, I try to bring them to services with me so we can spend a little extra time together. Like many other working parents, the most time we can spend together is Friday night until Monday morning.

Sometimes I get home too late and am unable to change my clothes to more suitable synagogue wear before shul. Once, when I walked into one local shul with my three year old on my head wearing jeans, I was asked by two different people if I felt it was appropriate to come in as I did. Indeed, for me it was super appropriate – a Jew coming to shul Friday night with his kids? What could be better? I didn’t go back to that synagogue, and wouldn’t. For different synagogues there are different beats.

Jewish people and their families are almost always welcome in synagogues everywhere. This past weekend was the first time in a long time that someone tried to tell me otherwise – and the fool was so wrong. A man asked me how I could dare to have my three year old in shul with me. He told me to go to the back because I was violating Jewish law by whispering to my child and feeding her candy during prayer. She wasn’t loud and wasn’t being disrespectful.

As I told him, and firmly believe, authentic Jewish law and tradition deems it most important to help my child learn to love synagogue and Jewish rituals and customs above anything else. I then suggested that he may want to go to the back of the room to avoid being concerned by me. Neither of us listened to the other and eventually, aggravated, I walked away from this person.
Our exchange bothered me.

I wonder if he would have felt better if he had me leave the shul with my kids? I wonder how many people like him have driven people out of synagogues? Our kids are holy as are our prayers and our prayer books. Yes, there are times when children get too loud. Kids should not always be in synagogue and when they are too loud, they should of course leave. “ŽBut occasional mischief is to be expected, and, I’d argue, appreciated by those who understand the outward nature of our religion. Those who tell kids to leave the synagogue are telling families that Jewish institutions are closed to them.

In today’s world, it’s vitally important to remember that people are human and not machines. More can be accomplished with warmth and love then with force. As Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach said, the sound of Jewish children should never be “shooshed” in shul “Ž- it’s the holiest of holy sounds in a Beit Knesset (synagogue). Jewish children laughing, smiling, and being kids – are these not the things that make every Jewish soul smile, and are they not the signs of those who feel loved and accepted?

Am Yisrael Chai.

Ronn Torossian is a proud parent – who will keep bringing his kids with him to synagogues.