Overheard at a Bris
.....by Richard Koss
Some years ago my partners and I merged our local accounting practice with a Jewish CPA named Milton Licker and his son, David. Milt was quite a funny guy and when I think of him, I remember this story. Milt finally had his first grandson after David's son was born and I had an opportunity to attend my first Bris.
For those of you who are Gentiles like myself, a Bris could be roughly compared to a Christening. It's a ceremony where the Jewish infant boy is circumcised by a Rabbi in full view of all the family and guests. I'm told the reform or contemporary practice among Jews is to have this done in the hospital but the more traditional or orthodox Jews have the ceremony performed in their homes. Some people think it's just a way to collect money from relatives and friends. Sort of like an instant investment portfolio for the baby boy.
Well, I was invited to the Bris for David's son and arrived just as the Rabbi was beginning the ceremony. There were no seats available and most of the people were standing, trying to look around and over each other to see what was going on.
There was a table with pastries and cookies and several of the guests were eating and drinking coffee as the Rabbi, who had to be at least eighty years old, began his prayers in front of the witnesses holding the child, who at this point was very quiet and still.
The Rabbi kept talking on and on in what must have been Hebrew so I slid over to the pastry table for a cup of coffee and a couple of butter cookies.
There I was sipping my coffee and standing behind one of Milt's clients I recognized, a Jewish car dealer. I assumed the chesty redheaded woman standing next to him was his wife.
The Rabbi stopped talking and suddenly there was a baby scream like Waaah!, which kind of woke everybody up. It was obviously the poor little boy and now most of the guests were positioning themselves to see the Rabbi in action. He was a short little guy and you had to bob and weave around people to get even a glimpse of him.
I finally got on my tip toes and saw the old guy doing his thing while the kid was bellowing away at the top of his lungs. Even from where I was standing, I could see little red blood spots on the white sheet holding the baby. With each scream, I could almost feel the pain myself and I had to fight off a reflex to put my hand between my legs.
Throughout the room, I was amazed that most of the people were smiling, some almost laughing. I guess if you'd been to these before, you'd probably start to recall the jokes and maybe even compare the screams or the Rabbi's technique or the amount of blood on the sheet.
The baby was still crying but apparently the worst of it was over and amidst the relative silence of the guests, you could overhear the car dealer saying to his wife, almost proudly, "That's the same Rabbi that did me at my Bris."
The redheaded wife, staring straight ahead at the Rabbi, replied in a piercing voice overheard by many of the guests. "Ya shoulda sued 'em." I almost choked on my coffee.
Most of the guests were smiling and laughing as they headed for the pastry table. In fact, I think the only one not laughing was the car dealer's wife.
Days later, I told Milt about the car dealer's wife and he couldn't stop laughing. Then he told me the story of how he came to name his son David. His wife Ellen loved the name Richard and wanted this to be their son's name. Milt looked at her and said, "are you crazy? Can you imagine him going through life with a name like Richard Licker?"