Seidemann: Our very own Jacob and Joseph

From the other side of the bench

By David Seidemann

Issue of August 21, 2009 / 1 Elul 5769

In a few days I’ll be celebrating another wedding anniversary with my wife. And while it’s been a few years, when we meet new people, we are still asked, “So how did you meet? When did you know? What was it that he or she did that made you attracted to one another?”

Implicit in that question is the fact that a husband and a wife’s mere existence, at least initially, is insufficient to open up the wellsprings of love and emotion. The love and emotion, which after a few years might be fueled by the other’s mere existence, initially is triggered by an external act. Something about that other person, beyond the fact that they simply exist, served as the impetus for the ensuing love.

Now contrast that with the following: We have four beautiful daughters, thank   G-d.  And yet no one has ever asked me, “So where were you when you first fell in love with your child?” No one ever asks, “so what exactly was it that first attracted you to your child?” No one ever asks if the love I feel for my children was “love at first sight, or developed over time?”

As powerful and as deep as the feelings are between a husband and wife, the relationship between parent and child is different; deeper.  It does not depend on performance. And while some parents might, G-d forbid, say they disown a child or act as if they had, there is no mechanism in our religion, and in most societies, for the disowning of a child.

It is for this reason that the Children of Israel are instructed in Deuteronomy, that “you are children to the L-rd, your  G-d.” The love between parent and child exists merely because the parties themselves exist. Acts that enhance the love are just icing on the cake.

The pain of losing a child must be unexplainable and unfathomable. The pain of not knowing a child’s fate: is he well, is he sick? Is he alive or, G-d forbid, not? Is he suffering, who is caring for him, is anyone caring for him? Has he given up? Those unanswered questions, that lack of closure, might be the only thing worse than losing a child.

Our patriarch Jacob refused to be consoled about his son Joseph’s disappearance because he did not know Joseph’s ultimate fate. Was Joseph indeed killed or was he just sold into slavery? This not knowing, this lack of closure, must be torture.

Close your eyes but for a moment and focus on your children and their whereabouts

at the very moment that you are reading these words. Imagine Gilad Shalit’s parents and the paralyzing fear and worry they must live with, more than four years since his kidnapping.

I imagined it, and it disturbed me to the point that I picked up the phone and dialed. I didn’t expect to get through but I did. It was a few minutes before Shabbos and Noam Shalit, Gilad’s father, came to the phone. We spoke for ten minutes; ten minutes that seemed like an hour.

To my surprise I didn’t say anything awkward. I told Mr. Shalit that in a strange way his predicament teaches us perspective. We go to bed at night worrying about our children, our cars, our homes, our vacations, and our water sprinklers. He, on the other hand, goes to bed at night thinking only of his family.

I told Mr. Shalit that I feel at a loss; I want to do something but have no idea where to begin. We agreed to speak again after Shabbos and that perhaps over Shabbos an idea would enter my head.

And then it struck me. Moments after I hung up the phone with Noam Shalit, I saw my wife light the Shabbos candles and say the prayer on behalf of our children. It is a prayer that Jewish woman  have been saying for generations. It asks G-d to bestow all that is good, fine, proper and healthy for our children, now and for the future.

Immediately after Shabbos concluded, I called Noam Shalit again. I proposed the idea that women all over the world, when they light Shabbos candles and say the prayer on behalf of their children, pause and think for one moment about Gilad, and then pause for another moment and think about his parents.

Will it make the animals that hold him set him free? I doubt it.  Will it cause G-d to bring a miracle that will set Gilad free and ease his pain and that of his family? Perhaps. Will those moments of thought result in making Gilad’s parents feel as if thousands of woman are uniting with their sorrow? Yes. Undoubtedly yes.

Noam Shalit told me that it was a wonderful idea, one that he would think appropriate, one that would provide comfort to the family. I began to share this idea with any and every rabbi I could find.

As I write this, I know of Orthodox, Conservative and Reform congregations that have suggested that women begin this practice.  I hope and pray that the idea catches fire and spreads throughout the world and ends as quickly as it began, when Gilad is finally set free, to once again enjoy the bonds of love between parents and their child.