How can it be that an “old, tired play,” one seen by everyone so many times, can still be performed so well and spark Jewish identity anew?

I had that thought Tuesday night after taking my 11-year-old daughter to the Hippodrome Theatre in Baltimore to not only see “Fiddler On The Roof,” but to see the lead role played once again by the iconic Haim Topol in what is likely the last run in the role for the 74-year-old.

The Israeli-born actor is of course not quite the young father he could easily portray back in the mid-60s when he started in the role. But that did not matter one bit. In fact, I think his beard and age simply made his message transcendent. And the play was straight forward. Fortunately, it did not get lost in a bizarre array of special effects. Rather it was – and is – the story that captivates so many. In fact, I was thrilled that the crowd seemed not to be heavily Jewish, no doubt due to season ticket holders. But every one knew how special a night this was, cheering for Topol when he first appeared and then leaping up to give him a standing ovation at the curtain call.

But most important was to see the reaction of my daughter. She laughed and cried and was captivated by a three-hour production that was well-paced and well-acted.

What happened after the play, however, was even more important. We began talking about my great-grandfather, the Ukrainian-born pauper (Nisan Shlomo Wolf) for whom I am named. Then we spoke of life in general for Eastern European Jews, so mixed with the joys of klezmer and the tragedy of pogroms (the latter suddenly, frighteningly shown in the play).  Then, of course, came the topic of intermarriage. I explained to her how “back then and until not long ago,” some Jewish families would sit shiva when a child married a non-Jew.

That led to the conversation every Jewish parents needs to have with their children. “What would you do if I married a non-Jew?” I have a standard response for this, one that that has been appropriate until now: “That’s not going to happen sweetie, so I’m not worried about it.”

Of course, I know that she’ll go off to college and there is a chance she’ll meet a non-Jew and fall in love. (However, with a day school education and a kosher home, I’m hedging my bets as we’ll have her eat at Hillel.) Nonetheless, I told her, “Remember that non-Jews do become Jews. If you love someone who is not Jewish, you need to look long and hard as to how you want to go forward. Personally, I cannot understand how any Jew would not want to be part of the Jewish people.”

She agreed. And the night was even grander.

So if you have not taken your children to see this “old-new” play (to steal a phrase from Theodor Herzl), do so here or elsewhere. It is a fabulous way to start meaningful conversation. And I promise you, you’ll be humming the songs for days. And Jews talking, well that’s the essence of Tradition, Tradition!