We’re All Human When It Comes to Chicken Fingers
A light but instructive moment unfolded at synagogue this past Shabbat during kiddush. In addition to the standard kiddush for the congregation, a separate table was thoughtfully arranged for the teens in attendance, featuring items such as sushi and chicken fingers.
At the conclusion of services, the synagogue president announced the special teen kiddush and explicitly reminded congregants that it was reserved for those under 18. With a touch of humor, he added that there were “armed guards” downstairs to ensure the provisions remained exclusively for the teens.
Predictably, events took a different turn.
Despite the designated table being clearly set apart—even physically partitioned by a mechitza—one individual, well beyond their teenage years, made their way around the barrier and helped themselves to the teen-designated food. Notably, this was the only person observed to do so.
What made the situation more striking was that this same individual has, on other occasions, publicly admonished fellow congregants over perceived missteps. The contrast between publicly correcting others and privately disregarding clearly stated communal boundaries highlights a familiar human tendency: holding others to standards we do not always uphold ourselves.
Yet, what followed was equally noteworthy. No one confronted or embarrassed this individual, despite the clear breach of norms. As someone not at the kiddush later remarked, this restraint reflects an important ethical teaching rooted in Leviticus 19:18: “Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge… but love your neighbor as yourself.” Jewish law explicitly prohibits both taking revenge and bearing a grudge, encouraging individuals instead to respond with restraint and dignity.
In that sense, the episode became more than a minor breach of etiquette. It served as a quiet test of communal values—an opportunity not only to recognize hypocrisy, but also to practice forbearance. The absence of retaliation demonstrated a commitment to higher principles, even when it might have felt justified to respond.
Moments like these remind us that learning does not occur only during prayer, Torah reading, or sermons. Sometimes, the most meaningful lessons emerge in everyday interactions—even over a plate of chicken fingers.
