Are you on the freedom bandwagon yet? Celebrations of the concept of freedom seem to be permeating the cultural-political zeitgeist these days. Stephen Spielberg’s movie “Lincoln,” which tells the story of President Lincoln’s efforts to pass a Constitutional amendment banning slavery, just received a leading 12 nominations for best picture of the year. Martin Luther King Jr. Day, in which we celebrate the birth of the great civil rights hero who helped lead African Americans in their struggle for freedom from racial oppression, is just around the corner (January 21).
And have you seen the Piers Morgan-Alex Jones interview yet? In a clip that has gone viral, Jones, a radio talk show host and gun enthusiast, launches into a vitriolic tirade about guns, freedom, and potential revolution that makes one wonder how he qualified for a gun permit in the first place.
All of this happens to be coinciding with the time of year in which Jews read the Exodus narrative. At first glance, it appears to be perfect timing. After all, the story of God’s deliverance of the Israelites from slavery to freedom formed the moral and linguistic basis for Kin’’s civil rights oratory and is inextricably intertwined with Western society’s development of a natural right to liberty (which underlies both the 13th Amendment and gun owner’s claims to liberty from government intrusion into gun ownership). Continue reading
When selecting a name for our youngest child, I was campaigning hard for “Jedediah” should the baby be a boy. The diminutive form, “Jed,” sounds so strong and I was taken by meaning of this name, “God’s beloved.” It seemed to be a wonderful name to bestow upon a child. But, like with so many things, my husband provided the voice of common sense and gently persuaded me to rethink my choice. “Though the Hebrew “Yedidyah” sounds beautiful, “Jedediah” might make things a bit rough on the playground.” And so, our third child carries the name “Jacob.”
It is a beautiful name. And one that he wears well. He is a Jacob. Never Jack nor Jake. Only his sister, and only on the rarest of occasions, may call him “Jakey.” His nickname, Koby (from Yaakov), is one that he accepts only from family members. Jacob wears his name so well that it seems ridiculous that we ever considered anything else.
Jacob is the youngest of three children. Lillian, the aforementioned sister, is our proverbial middle child. And Benjamin is our first-born. Benjamin, however, is not like other first-borns. He has Asperger’s Disorder — a high-functioning form of autism. It is a condition that radically affects the family dynamics.
In this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Toldot, Rebekah seeks an answer as to why her pregnancy is so difficult. God responds,
“Two nations are in your womb,
Two separate peoples shall issue from your body;
One people shall be mightier than the other,
And the older shall serve the younger.”
And the older shall serve the younger.
How many times had I read that passage without making the connection.
There are things that at five years of age Jacob can do and accomplish that Benjamin, at twelve, cannot do or has only just learned. Watching Jacob move easily from each newly-acquired skill to the next, we catch glimpses of his older versions. The day will come when Jacob will surpass Benjamin socially and otherwise. It is a day that is anticipated with both pride and sadness.
As parents, we must constantly remind ourselves to regard each of our children independently. Benjamin, Lillian, and Jacob have their own strengths and weaknesses. They have interests, both shared and separate. It is difficult — painful, even — to see Benjamin lag behind his siblings. Yet, to wish that Jacob will always remain behind his brother is unrealistic and unfair. And so we celebrate Jacob’s development even as he bypasses Benjamin’s abilities. It is bittersweet.
But bypassing and surpassing are not the same as supplanting. Jacob’s name means “to supplant” and there are times it seems as though his “normalcy” will jettison him into the role of older brother. But we cannot neglect the meaning of Benjamin’s name: “son of my right [hand].” Benjamin, my sweet Benjamin, is my first-born. It is by him that I became a parent. It is through him that I learned to see the world with new eyes. Though our lives are challenged in countless ways by his autism, he cannot be replaced as the child of my soul.
Our matriarch, Rebekah, put so much stock into the phrase …the older shall serve the younger that she forgot one of the cardinal rules of motherhood; no one can truly take the place of one’s first born child. At least, no one should.