It was a little past midnight at my niece’s chasidic wedding, when the badchan appeared. I can’t say I was happy to see him.

Loosely translated as a jester or comedian, a badchan is someone who is paid to make Yiddish rhymes and jokes at a chasidic wedding to delight the bride, groom, and guests. He also serves a more serious and lengthy role during the mitzvah tanz ceremony performed after the wedding meal. Rooted in the Talmud and Kabbalah, the mitzvah tanz is when various family members are called up for the honor of symbolically “dancing” with the bride. It is during this ceremony that the badchan really earns his buck.

Before the wedding, the badchan researches the family members to be called up. He discovers their life stories and accomplishments, their lineage, personality, and strengths. He then composes lengthy rhymes that he recites to call them up to dance. In essence, the badchan is more of a paid poet than just a jester. Depending on the size of the family and the eloquence of the badchan, the proceedings can take hours, in some cases all night, with guests only returning home at daybreak.

When the badchan appeared at my niece’s wedding, I had never seen one live before. However, not knowing Yiddish, and being surrounded by my overtired and highly sugared children (one of whom was already begging to go home), I have to admit there was a part of me that was not excited to see him. But once he started, I realized I did not have to understand every word of the performer to be mesmerized by his performance.

Shlomo Miller was having a bad day. He played with his pen on the desk and pretended to work, trying hard to forget the events of that morning.The phone rang and he glanced at the caller ID. It was his wife.“Hello?”His wife paused. She could tell from his tone that something was up.“What happened?”He sighed. “The same thing that always happens…It was a blood bath this morning, people right and left being ‘escorted off.’ Remember Chuck?”

“Isn’t he the guy who has been there for something like 30 years?”“They didn’t even let him clean out his office!” Shlomo slammed his hand on the table and shook his head.“But you’ll be okay, right?” She tried to sound supportive, but it was hard to mask her own fear.“Yeah, I should be fine. I am pretty sure I won’t make the list.” He didn’t want to mention that he’d spent the day shaking in his boots, wondering if his turn was next. His constant absences for Yom Tov definitely did not put things in his favor; nor did being caught asleep at his desk during the second week of Selichos. It always irked him when people seemed to feel that he had it made, since he had a degree and a job. Even for him, parnassa was no guarantee. With a job like this, you still needed a high dose of bitachon. Any day at work could be your last.