Rabbi Ben’s mother has returned to Canada from her Australian visit.  It was wonderful to have her here for the birth of our son Akiva and we will miss her now that she is gone.  We had a great time and she taught us both so much.  So I thought I would share a little d’var Torah from the Traveling Rabbi’s mum with you all.

We often hear that Hashem loves us like a father.  Why like a father? Why not like a mother? After all, it is a mother who nurtures us.  It is our mother who gives of her entire being, her entire body.  She feeds us.  She cares for us.  The mother represents the ultimate in nurturing.

Imagine a typical day in the life of the mother of a newborn (e.g., me).  Mommy is home all day with the baby.  The baby is screaming and crying for hours (fortunately right now Akiva is being quiet and sweet and way too cute, but he does do his fair share of kvetching in true Jewish form).  Mommy has to deal with the crying all day (or the whining of older children).  Mommy has to wake up at all hours of the night to feed the baby, to console the baby, to change the baby. Mommy spends all day long changing dirty nappies (especially fun are the ones that leak all over) and changing dirty clothes (even her own, especially when her son has really good aim and waits to pee until being changed).  Mommy has to clean the baby (and herself), bathe the baby, and do heaps of laundry (often due to leaky nappies or baby boy’s exceptionally good aim when peeing).  Moms love their babies more than can be imagined, but by the end of the day, mom is tired, mom is dirty, mom is hungry, mom is just plain worn out.

Then in walks Tatty.  He’s been at work all day long.  He hasn’t seen his baby/children since he left that morning (or possibly all day, depending on how early he leaves for davening and work).  He comes in and his heart is overwhelmed with love for his child(ren).  He automatically forgives them everything.  He forgives them for the screaming (he didn’t have to listen to it), he forgives the dirty nappies (he didn’t have to change them), he forgives the good aim with pee (he’s probably kind of proud of this anyway), he forgives the dirty laundry (he’s happy his smelly socks got washed in the bargain), he forgives the baby everything.

That’s why Hashem is said to love us like a father.  We’re all just children, all of us babies in our behavior.  We don’t follow the Torah completely, we don’t do what He wants of us.  When it comes to what Hashem wants of us, rather than doing what He wants, we pretty much do what babies do: burp, fart, cry, scream, poop, pee, and spit up.  If G-d loved us like a mother, He would be exhausted by the end of the day.

Instead, G-d loves us like a father.  All day long we didn’t daven like we should have? It’s ok, He forgives us. All day long we played games instead of learning Torah? It’s ok, He forgives us.  All day long we’ve failed to live up to the expectations laid out for us in the Torah, but it’s ok… Hashem forgives us.  When our Father walks in the door at the end of the day, He is happy to see us there waiting for Him, reaching for Him, smiling at Him.  When He walks in and we reach out to Him, run to Him, beg Him to pick us up and hold us, then He is ready to forgive us all our misdeeds during the day.

And that is why Hashem loves us like a father.

Parshas Bamidbar: Redemption of the Firstborn

Contemplating his status as firstborn

Last week, thank G-d, I gave birth to a beautiful and healthy son (bli ayin hara).  He is our first child and a son and therefore is extra-special.  In Judaism, there’s a special mitzvah called a Pidyon HaBen, or the Redemption of the Firstborn, that can only be done under special circumstances.  I am thrilled that, please G-d, we will be able to partake of this very rare and special mitzvah in just a few short weeks’ time.

So how fitting and special that it is in this week’s parsha, Bamidbar, that we find this mitzvah.  In it, we find G-d saying to us, “Behold! I have taken the Levites from among the Children of Israel, in place of every firstborn, the first issue of every womb among the Children of Israel, and the Levites shall be Mine. For every firstborn is Mine: On the day I struck down every firstborn in the land of Egypt I sanctified every firstborn in Israel for Myself, from man to beast; they shall be Mine – I am Hashem.”

The “first issue of every womb” doesn’t mean literally the first child born to every woman.  There are some requirements:

• Must be the first child born.
• Must be male.
• Must be a natural birth. (No cesarean sections.)
• The mother must never have miscarried after the first trimester.
• Must not be a Kohen.
• Must not be a Levite.

The firstborn sons were the ones who were originally designated to perform G-d’s service.  Indeed, they were even more special to G-d because He specifically passed them over during the slaying of the Egyptian firstborn.  G-d chose to give them life when He was taking life away from others, for they were precious to Him.  However, during the sin of the golden calf, the firstborn failed him.  Unlike the Levites, who not only did not worship the calf but actively fought against those who were doing so, the firstborn sons were indifferent.  They didn’t live up to G-d’s expectations. They disappointed Him.

This explains quite a few of the above requirements.  Obviously, this would only apply to the first child born, not any subsequent children.  Only male children were killed during the plague of the firstborn in Egypt and only men sinned during the sin of the golden calf (the women actively opposed it), so only male children need apply.  And the Kohanim and Levites are already in the service of G-d, so they don’t need to be redeemed.

In fact, the Levites were the original “currency” of redemption.  The Levites replaced the firstborn and thereby redeemed them.  But G-d knew this was not a permanent solution because He could foresee that future generations of Levites would fall from the lofty spiritual heights of their forefathers.  Therefore, He instituted the mitzvah of redemption by payment, partially to remind the Levites of how their spiritual level had decreased over time.

Like many mitzvot we find listed in the Torah, the origin of this mitzvah is not necessarily a pleasant story. Nevertheless, it is a mitzvah and as such, being able to fulfill it is an enormous honor.  It is a relatively rare ceremony and so is even more special.  It is performed after the child has reached at least 30 days of age.  We are looking forward to performing this ceremony for our little boy in just a few weeks’ time.  Hopefully you’ll be able to join us!

Shabbat shalom!

Read more on Parshas Bamidbar: Into the Desert of Our Lives

Baruch HaShem, Rabbi Ben and I were blessed last week to welcome into our family of wandering Jews a brand new member! We were blessed with, bli ayin hara, a beautiful and healthy baby boy.  If Rabbi Ben is the Traveling Rabbi and I am his Roaming Rebbetzin, what will our little bub be? We are already getting him fitted for a backpack and hiking boots, although Rabbi Ben’s mum says we won’t need them for at least a few more months…

The bris will be held, Please G-d, tomorrow, Wednesday, May 23 at Nefesh Shul, 54 Roscoe St., Bondi Beach in Sydney, Australia, immediately following 7 AM shacharis services.

The Mystical Significance of Lag B’Omer

Tonight is Lag B’Omer, at least here in Australia.  I realize that for many of our readers, Lag B’Omer won’t start until tomorrow night, but anyway, it’s a good enough time to start thinking about it.

Lag B’Omer is one of those holidays I’ve enjoyed ever since I discovered it, without even knowing why or understanding the real meaning behind it.  And even still, it seems that no matter how much I learn about Lag B’Omer, how many hours I spend researching it or learning or reading up on it, all the things I learn slip right out of my mind as soon as I see that first bonfire of the evening, hear the first child’s excited laugh, smell that first marshmallow roasting.

The truth is, I think in some ways that this is how all Jewish holidays should be.  They should be so overwhelmingly full of a sense of joy that we have no space left in us for deep contemplation.  Not that we shouldn’t study or learn – of course we should! – but that, at their core, we have to recognize that our holidays are always just a bit beyond our level of true comprehension.

And it’s not just holidays that are like this, but really anything at all that has to do with Judaism.  There are so many levels of understanding, so many things that we have to learn (70 explanations for every part of the Torah!), and yet, even learning every single one of them will never bring us to the level of comprehension of their power and meaning that G-d experiences and has.  The sages say that if we understood even at the tiniest level what power saying Tehillim (Psalms) has, we would do nothing but sit all day and recite them.  On our limited human level of understanding, we are restricted.  We have gravity.  We can reach only so high.  We cannot truly touch the divine.

But our neshamas (our souls) – ah! They are not so restricted. Within each of us is a bit of G-d that has the power to understand infinity.  Our souls are forever reaching for that closeness with G-d, that unity. That is why we are drawn to other people – they are also missing pieces of the G-dly puzzle – and why we are drawn to divinity.  The G-dly soul within us yearns to be reunited.

I think this is why there are certain times when we can just lose ourselves in a holiday.  Especially on a mystical holiday like Lag B’Omer, I feel as if my soul is reaching for spirituality and the divine.  ”Down, intellect!” it commands, even though it is usually my intellect through which I most connect. “Down, intellect!” shouts my soul, “This is one thing that is far, far beyond your comprehension!”  And so, I forget everything I’ve studied, everything I’ve learned… And, like the flames of the bonfires we will light tonight, my soul leaps and reaches up, and I surrender to the joy of the moment, the joy of the mysticism, the joy of incomprehension, the joy of unity, the joy of being close, in some small way, to Hashem.

It’s been too long since I last wrote a post.   It brings me to an interesting realization: travel can be hard work, but it also guarantees a certain amount of leisure time.  In some countries you can spend the whole day just trying to get yourself from one town to another, find something kosher to eat, and find a place to sleep that’s moderately clean (relatively speaking).  You end those days exhausted.  Even on a day when you’re doing nothing but exploring and having fun, you collapse into bed at night as if you have just worked a long day.

So in travel I’m discovering that I sometimes take leisure time for granted.  The fact that I can sit down and write when I feel like it (even if I can’t always get internet to post them) is something I took for granted for far too long.  There’s a certain freedom to having no outwardly-imposed restrictions on your time.  Even if your days are full to the brim and very busy, you can choose to slow down if you want to.

My time in Sydney has provided me with more of a sense of stability.  Staying put for a while is a totally different lifestyle!  It has its benefits, which our style of travel cannot offer.  I have friends here and, after moving into an apartment this week, I have an idea at least of where I’ll be sleeping at night!  Sydney doesn’t offer the kosher food choices that America does (even in a 7-11 in the middle of nowhere) but it offers far more kosher variety than Peru or Jordan, Nepal or China.  It would seem that life is easy and routine.

But the truth is that even if you’re not actively on the move, you can keep travelling.  The key to travel is making the most of your time and your space.  When Rabbi Ben and I spent three weeks in Hampi, India, we didn’t have internet (I think I was online maybe 2 hours total in 3 weeks!).  During the weeks I spent in Pokhara, Nepal, I only had electricity a few hours a day.  But spending a longer period of time in a place doesn’t mean that you fall into a routine, not necessarily.  It only happens if you allow it to.

A few weeks ago, I was walking in Bondi (a suburb of Sydney) on a Friday night on my way to Shabbat dinner.  As I walked, I noticed that a front window of a house I was passing was wide open.  Inside, someone was watching television.  They were watching golf.  Now, no offense to anyone out there who’s a fan, but golf has got to be one of the most boring sports ever invented.  It’s even more boring than baseball!  Very little happens and what does happen, happens slowly, and I cannot but imagine that it is even more boring on television than in real life! (This does not, of course, apply to mini-golf, which even as an adult I still find insanely amusing.)

Anyway, there I was, walking on a pretty fall evening to a beautiful and warm Shabbat table with friends, and inside this house is some person wasting time watching golf on television.  I felt so bad for them!  I was celebrating Shabbat, the holy Sabbath, full of joy and love, and there was someone who was wasting time, hours they’ll never get back.

When I am old (please G-d!), I will look back on my life and say that I have done a lot.  That even if I stayed in one place for years, I never let myself fall into a rut, always sought out some new and challenging experience.  I don’t want to look back on my life and wonder where the years went… and then recall that I went to work all day, then came home and watched golf on television.

And you know what? The truth is that as I settle in one spot for a while, I am still the same expat, ever on the move.  The result is that I now have far less leisure time than I ever did when I travelled because my days and nights are full.  I still don’t have time for television.  And that’s the way it should be for all of us, whether travelling or staying put.  We should always strive to make our lives count to the fullest, no matter how we define it.  Whether you’re spending your days in prayer to Hashem or working on self-improvement or simply learning something new, always, always make your life count!