Jonah's Bris

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Hi Little Jonah,

Wow. Can you believe it?  You’re a whole week and 4 hours old - practically a veteran to the world now…

The last letter I wrote to you (ok, and the first) was on January 20^th – Obama’s Inauguration Day. I was about 4 months pregnant and brought you to DC to witness the changing of the guard. And at the end of the day, after freezing our tucheses off on the Mall for 6 hours, jumping over walls with luggage, and barely escaping the all-out brawl that broke out in Union Station, I was so guilt–ridden for exposing you to the harsh elements, that I had to explain why I’d schlepped you there in the first place.

In that letter I shared with you the importance of bearing witness to history. I explained to you that your mom (and now you) come from a family of historians, so the history radar is always on… and with that comes a great inclination to size up our lives against a backdrop of grand, milestone moments. Your grandparents on your mom’s side, for instance, marched with Martin Luther King in Memphis during the sanitation strikes, on the frontlines of the Civil Rights movement.  On your daddy’s side, your grandparents volunteered on a kibbutz in Israel during the Six-Day war – that was some honeymoon… And as for your mommy and daddy’s generation, GenX, as they call it, that was really known for, well, nothing – until that historic Inauguration day. Suddenly, we were connected, bound by a common cause and shared values, part of something greater than ourselves. Finally, it was time for your mommy and daddy’s generation to own a piece of history. It was finally our turn to define ourselves not by our apathy, but by our empathy… to engage collectively in leaving our mark on the world – just like your grandparents did.

So what’s all this have to do with your bris?

Basically, it all boils down to this. I’ve had great misgivings about this ceremony. I’ve been to only a few brises but have never really given it much thought, never found it disturbing - in fact, I’ve always seen it as a rather celebratory event typically topped off with hummus and whitefish.  But now, as a mother, I‘ve been facing this day with some dread and great ambivalence. Why put you in such pain? (even though I’m told you wont remember it?) Why continue such a dated – and, if I daresay – barbaric ritual?

I still don’t have a decent answer to this.  But, the one thing I do know is this: when I saw your dad bring out the little yarmulkeh today that you’re wearing now, I was filled with such joy and delight – I just love seeing it on your tiny head. So of course the next question was why? Why is this little yarmulke so important - especially for your parents who aren’t particularly observant (ok, who aren’t at all observant). And it came down to the fact that just like that historic inauguration day, you’re now part of something much greater than yourself. By performing this covenant, you become part of larger community bound by 4,000 years of tradition and shared values. This whole concept of moving from generation to generation resonates especially clearly today, as we become parents, our parents become grandparents, and you become connected to those who came before you and those who will follow you to live a life rich with meaning, compassion, justice, and loving kindness. And if that means dealing with a few seconds of guilt and pain, well, I guess that’s what it means to be “chosen…”

Love, Your mommy