The rabbi gave a sermon earlier this year about a deluge and I was confused. My whole life, I learned about the flood, the ‘mabool,’ and the rabbi was going off on some kind of water park ride sounding thing. 
People later told me that the deluge was the flood, and I asked why the rabbi didn't just say 'the flood.' Once again, I was feeling like a fool, because my English comprehension was not good enough to understand another rabbi. My British friend was applauding the brilliant use of the language. I was stuck.
Why do they translate the Hebrew into English that is harder to understand than the Hebrew itself! This language of Pentateuch, imprecations, deluge, legumes, firmament, countenance, invoke, Ecclesiastes, sexton, phylacteries, benedictions...
Here are some of my memories of times I didn’t understand and hardships with the English of American rabbis. I bring them to you, because I don't want you to think you're the only one who was poorly educated.
 
A Childhood of Not Understanding
It was around the time of my Bar Mitzvah when the rabbi sprung a word on me I had never heard before. He said, ‘The synagogue is going to need you for a quorum.’ No idea what quorum means. I thought I was being punished. What did I do to deserve for a group of ten men to give me a quorum? I didn’t want anything to do with it.
​I protested, and then he pulled out what he called ‘phylacteries.’  I was confused. 
Growing up, I never knew what phylacteries were. I had an idea of what Tefillin were. It was at that point that I requested from my rabbi, ‘Please translate the English back into Hebrew, so that I can understand.’ My rabbi got mad at me, and said, ‘Throw a Yarmulke on your head.’ All I had was a Kippah. So I put that on my head, and all was good.
 
Sermon I Still Don’t Understand from the Same Rabbi
The rabbi began with his ‘Exegesis from Leviticus from the Pentateuch.’ I didn’t even understand the title of that speech. I was waiting for a sermon from the book of Vayikra, from the Torah.
After his speech, I said ‘Yasher Koyach,’ to congratulate him on his understanding of the English language. I didn’t wish him ‘felicitations,’ as I wanted him to understand what I was saying. I congratulated him in the simple Hebrew Jewish way. I didn’t want him to be confused. I was already confused enough from his speech.

Another Sermon I Still Don't Understand
It was on Sukkot that we started reading King Solomon’s Kohelet, and I was beginning to feel a strong connection to Gd, when the rabbi started talking about Ecclesiastes. He lost me. Kohelet is a beautiful book. He should have talked about that.
I am not Greek and I have always made it a point to stay away from what he called the Septuagint. To make matters worse, the rabbi decided to throw in this new idea of calling Sukkot, the Holiday of Tabernacles. Again, I didn’t understand a word of his sermon, as I am American and his speech was in English.
I am not the wisest of all men. I am not King Solomon. All I know is that if I was a botanist, I would have understood his Passover sermon about legumes.
 
I Was Lost in The Service
Until the added Musaf service of Shabbat, all was fine at shul. The issue began when they started with this prayer in English, for the United States. ‘He Who grants salvation and dominion to rulers…’ Salvation means redemption or liberation. If somebody would have told me that, I would have said ‘Amen.’ Instead, it turned into my silent protest against the country. Some people accused me of siding with the football players.
Then, somebody they called the ‘beadle’ came over to me to ask me to open the ark. If the Gabai had come over to me, I would’ve definitely ran to open the ark.
All I know is that penitent means to look serious. I was able to do that throughout the service. I was confused the whole time.
 
My Message to American Rabbis that I Respect
If you insist on giving Sermons in English, then use English words. Let’s move away from the language used in the 1930s and talk in an English the congregants can identify. A simple English. Not a pre-Shakespearian English that my English Lit professor can’t recognize.
I understand it is fun for you to create words like firmament, but maybe keep the Hebrew in Hebrew. Stop using words you created, like legumes, beadle, sexton firmament, countenance, quorum, tabernacle. Use words like beans and peas, shul helper, heaven, face, Minyin, Sukkis. Something that I can recognize. Vocabulary your congregants identify.
Maybe you are trying to add in a Hebrew flavor to your speech, using words congregants can’t grasp; thus, adding to the feeling of the Hebrew prayers that they are reading in transliteration. Maybe those are English words. Maybe you didn’t create them.
I am sorry. It was my English education. If I would’ve read more as a kid, I would’ve understood more of what the rabbis are saying in their exegeses. Maybe if I grew up in Britain, maybe if I grew up in the 1500s, I would comprehend.
 
I want to thank all of the rabbis who’ve taught me how to wrap my phylacteries, put on my tassels, place my yarmulke. You have been the inspiration. Because of your exegeses and pedagogy, I have the ability to pass on imprecations. I now see the firmament, and invoke every day for rain in Israel, but no deluge.
Sorry for this rant. I didn’t mean to take it out on the sexton.

Candy is the backbone of the Jewish child’s experience. Without it, the tradition will not be passed down from generation to generation. A bold statement,  but no child is doing anything Jewish without sweets.
Chinuch, Jewish education is only as good as the candies you have. Classes will only be effective if they end with lollipops, or better yet, the stick into the sugar candy. Nothing is better than dunking a stick made out of candy, into more candy. And that leads to Torah. I would go back to elementary school if the teachers were giving out candy to stick in candy. I would learn Torah all day for that.
You can’t have good Jews without candy. This is the hypothesis. It hasn’t been proven. However, the amount of chubby good Jewish adults leads itself to the conclusion that good Jews eat candy. Health is not a Jewish ritual. Throwing candies and then eating them is. Let us explore the sigfinicance of candy in childhood.
 
Honey on First Letter of The Torah
When a child first learns Torah, we put honey on the first letter, a ‘Bet,’ so that the child will see the Torah as sweet. That's tradition. The child licks that first letter and they love it. This isn’t always the greatest idea. Sometimes kids end up thinking the proper way to read is by licking. My nephew licked the letter and was walking around with a piece of the parchment stuck to his tongue for a couple of days.
This may be why many Torah scrolls get messed up. Honey is sticky, and it can get into the parchment. But we do that for the kids, because Jewish education comes first. This tradition was developed before Paskesz mastered the sour stick. Otherwise, we would be putting rainbow sour sticks on the first letter of the Torah. Oodles would get all over the floor.
You don’t put broccoli on the first letter of the Torah. You want the child to love the Torah? No child is learning Torah because of vitamin B9. You try to get your children eating healthy at home, and you wonder why they love eating at their friend's house. You can’t entice children with salad. If these millennial parents were educating children, no kid would ever want to learn Torah.
 
Only way To get Kids to do Stuff at School
As a kid, one day I showed up to class and the rabbi said, ‘No gum in this class.’
I asked, ‘Why am I even here? If there is no candy, what is the point? Give me an F.' I got an F in that class and I wasn't allowed to leave. My parents didn't take my side of the argument.
I stopped going to gym class too. The gym teacher never gave us candy. First he makes us run laps, and then we play dodgeball, for what? Why even go to school? You won’t get kids into shape if you don't draw their interest. And the only way to do that is with candy. Have the kids run laps for gummies. That's how you make a healthy child.
 
Kids go to Shul for Candy
Go to shul to pray? No. Kids go for the sweets.
Ever been in shul for a Bar Mitzvah? Hundreds of children crawling on the floor by the Bimah, diving for candy. Nobody knows where they come from. How do they end up in shul? Candy. Word gets out. Random children come in from the park. Kids that aren’t even Jewish; they find slacks and jump into shul. After the candies are all picked up from the whipping the Bar Mitzvah boy with the Sunkist fruit gem ceremony, not one child can be found. They disappear. No point in being in shul when the candy is gone.
Why do people convert to Judaism? They went to a friend’s Bar Mitzvah when they were young and they remember diving for a Sunkist fruit gem.
We all only go to Bar Mitzvahs for the candies. Even if you don’t eat them, you want to whip them at the thirteen year old for reading so slowly and stealing an extra hour of your Shabbat afternoon nap. Side note: You should be throwing the candies at his parents that are telling him to enunciate every word.
I praise those little Jewish kids who dive for the candies. They're committed to the Jewish tradition, even with their parents telling them not to ruin their slacks. They are committed to Jewish tradition because of the Sunkist fruit gem.

The Candyman
There is even a position for this guy at shul. This guy is more important than the Gabai. I don’t even think kids notice that there is a rabbi or a Chazan. The only legitimate position I ever noticed at shul was the candyman.
​All rituals I enjoyed growing up were because of candy. I loved shul because of candy. I didn't like the older men in shul, but they had candy, so I loved them. You put 'candy' before 'man' and that is someone who is loved, and educating the children. Someone you can connect with. Example of education: 'What are the names of our forefathers Mr. Bergerman?' 'Here is a candy.' That is fine Jewish education.
The candyman is the only reason why any child enters shul on a regular day. That's why the feminist movement is against Mechitzahs; they have no access to the candyman. The kids even smile for the man. Kids go into synagogue and smile for that man, until they lose their teeth. They smile at nobody else. Why? Because the Candyman is the only one with Laffy Taffys.
 
Jewish Rituals
Are there any Jewish rituals that don’t involve candy? No. Tisha BAv, the Nine Days, kids still eat candy.

​As can be seen, all Jewish education and practiced ritual is contingent on how much candy is involved. To quote my rabbi, 'Every learned Jew has snorted Paskesz plastic fruit sugar.'
To this day, I am shocked that schools don't focus more on sweets for their lunch program. It should be proteins, greens and fruit gems.