When our eldest, Eliana, was 3 days old, we were sent home from the hospital, slightly terrified at this whole parenting business. I literally couldn’t even put the buggy up. Within an hour of our arrival home, the phone rang. It was Rabbi Abraham Levy, spiritual head of the Spanish and Portuguese community for 50 years. We lived around the corner from Lauderdale Road Synagogue, where Rabbi Levy regularly attended, and often led, and Gary, the new father, sang in the choir and regularly prayed. I have no idea how Rabbi Levy knew we were home. But his call was a delight… he insisted we must come to synagogue to have her named, and that we shouldn’t do it on Shabbat as there was no eruv – a special boundary that allows orthodox Jews to carry from in the public domain on Shabbat (a sermon for another time!)
So we talked it through and decided that what would become the first of three baby blessings would be on the 8th day after her birth, a Sunday morning, with bagels. I still couldn’t put the buggy up to get to the shul, but with the bagels we had to drive anyway, and after shacharit, morning prayers, it was time for the naming ceremony. Eliana and I were both welcomed onto the Bimah with Gary, and then something very small but very surprising embedded Rabbi Levy into my heart further than I had expected. He publicly gave Eliana her Hebrew name, and named her ‘Eliana Bat Gershon oo’Devorah’. I had not expected this Orthodox rabbi to include the mothers name, my name, and it was just one of many ways that Abraham Levy was a particular kind of a Rabbi – an English Gentleman of a particular generation.
Rabbi Levy died on Shabbat 2 weeks ago. The mourning rites that were observed meticulously followed the Spanish and Portuguese rites. Rites that are in a small part rooted in this week’s torah portion. We heard about the death of Jacob – which occurs just after he has given instructions to his family that he should be buried back home in Canaan, with his people. Just as we are today, buried together, as family, together with our people. Shiva also has it’s origins this week – with a seven day mourning period observed once back in Canaan. And yet Joseph also employs a raft of Egyptian practices in marking his father’s death – from embalming the body to 70 days of mourning, before honouring his fathers wishes and returning to Canaan to lay him to rest in the cave of machpelah, purchased by Abraham as the family plot.
Rabbi Levy and I intellectually and Jewishly disagreed on a lot of things. But he showed nothing but warmth to me, and our discussions never turned into arguments. In fact myself and another female rabbi whose husband was involved in Lauderdale Road were warmly referred to by Rabbi Levy as ‘Our Lady Rabbis’. In our very different ways, we both married the culture of our time and place to our Judaism. I think of Rabbi Levy as the last of a generation of Rabbis who were true ‘English Gentlemen’ although he was, in fact, Gibraltarian. In the Spanish and Portuguese community top hats are worn by leaders of the service and wardens – these originally were tricorns – three pointed Spanish hats. When West London split from Bevis Marks in 1840, they modernized the tricorn with the top hat (still worn by wardens at West London – not sure we could convince our wardens!) In Time, the Spanish and Portuguese followed suit, and modernized their tricorns too. The top hat is a shallow analogy, but it is the story of how Anglo Jews married their worlds together, their Englishness and their Judaism. Judaism has, since its most ancient origins, brought together the world around us, and the wisdom of our ancestors.
Before Jacob dies, he blesses (and at times curses) his many sons. He also blesses Ephraim and Menasseh – Joseph’s sons. Joseph is not a tribe, his sons are each half a tribe, and on the eve of Shabbat, around many Shabbat tables, parents bless their children. The Priestly blessing is used for sons and daughters. But before that, for sons, we pray that they should be like Ephraim and Menasseh. Daughters are blessed to be like Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah. There is lots that could be taught about these blessings, but one of the suggestions made about why Ephraim and Menasseh are the model for this blessing, is that they were born and raised in Egypt, but still knew who they were as Israelites. They felt a connection to this heritage – they held in balance both of their identities, without a sense that this was wrong or took compromise.
On a Friday night, when it comes to blessing our children, I have always added their names to the blessing. There are parts of our mothers Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah I pray for Eliana to emulate. There are also parts I hope she doesn’t, but above all other things, I hope that she is able to be the fullest version of herself that she was made to be. And ditto for Michah. So to the ancestors whose merits we hope they emulate, I add their own names to the blessing.
Psalm 139 says
I praise You,
for I am awesomely, wondrously made
Some translate נֽוֹרָא֗וֹת Nora’ot – awesomely – as fearfully, and the root also contains hints of the English terrible. We are made with both positive and negative qualities, just as our ancestors showed in their own behaviour. But we are also all created as unique individuals – there is no one else quite like us. Perhaps it is a cliché, but I love the idea that each of us contributes something to the world that could not have happened without us. I want my children, and in fact all of us, to connect to the many many generations of their history, their ancestors, whether literal or spiritual. But I also want them to embrace the purpose of their own creation fully. To live fully in the world as it now is, and the respond to that fully and graciously, adding what is needed from the wholeness of who they are. Our Friday night blessing is a moment of hope, that our children will have the opportunity to fully embrace all that they are, and to find balance in their many identities.
We may not wish to leave a legacy of children quite as large as Jacob did, or attain the spiritual leadership of Rabbi Levy in our own lifetimes. But we all, every one of us, make a difference. The world is better because we are in it. The root of the Hebrew word Shalom isn’t peace, but wholeness. So when we are able to embrace the fullness of who we are, and act in the world in wholeness, we take steps towards creating peace for the world, and for ourselves.
May we all be so blessed
Shabbat Shalom
