My Mother's Yarzheit, 5783

My mother was a remarkable woman.  No surprise there:  all Jews have remarkable mothers. My mother was also a very educated woman.  That shouldn’t be a surprise either, but it was a little unusual for her generation.

Her parents were not supportive of her ambitions for college.  They needed her help in the store, and her mother just couldn’t see the point.  After all, Grandma Celia came from an impoverished family in Russia, and now her daughter was a businesswoman.  How could she top that?

My mother ended up attending NYU at night, commuting in every day from New Jersey.  It took eight years, but she completed her degree and won a prize as the top chemistry student in the class.  Now, I’m sure that women scientists are a dime a dozen these days, but this was in the 1940’s.

My mother always encouraged us to pursue academics.  I suppose in my case she failed, but that’s more on me than on her. I remember her bringing science to the study of Torah. She showed me some magazine article that lined up the timeline of evolution with the timeline of the creation story I read to you nice folks a few weeks ago. There was even an ecumenical spin:  she told me of a nun she had met who assured her that there was no contradiction between Darwin and a belief in the bible.

She pointed out something far more fun from Ezekiel:

“I looked, and lo, a stormy wind came sweeping out of the north – a huge cloud and flashing fire, surrounded by radiance… In the center of it were also the figures of four creatures… They had the figures of human beings. However, each had four faces, and each of them had four wings…”

Sounded like spacemen to me.  Of course, I was eight years old at the time, and “Chariots of the Gods” was at the top of the bestseller lists.  Now, there was nothing tinfoil hat about my mother.  I doubt that she thought the crazy man was describing a flying saucer.  Obviously, this was all about stoking my interest.

My mother also gave me my first exposure to Mishnah, although it was something that really aggravated her.  It was about the three reasons that a woman dies in childbirth.  The first was avoiding the mikvah; then, not properly separating the loaves when making challah; finally, neglecting to light Shabbat candles.

Mom really hated this.  She suffered three miscarriages before my oldest brother was born. Some years after she told me about this, my cousin’s wife did die in childbirth.  What business did these old men have saying anything like that?

I asked an Orthodox friend about my mother’s objections.  He explained that you really had to look at the wording.  Perhaps what was really meant was not actually about dying, but rather about the failing to pass on Torah true Judaism to her children.

That seemed reasonable to me: I’ve heard many rabbis explain that the Torah doesn’t mean dying when it talks about dying.  Whatever.  In any event, my mother didn’t go for this at all.  Those old men always managed to come up with some explanation.

Due to my mother’s influence and my own background in math, I tend to look at things very algebraically. I enjoy these kinds of questions.  Was light refrangible before the flood? How did Moses write about his own death?  If a man speaks in the forest, and no woman’s there to hear, is he still wrong?

I might have made a good Talmudist if I weren’t so scatter brained.

A particular problem occurred to me once, and I’d like to share how I resolved it.  We are told to honor our parents.  That being the case, what do you do when the Almighty wants one thing, but your parents want something else?

I asked that same Orthodox friend about this.  If my father is shoveling snow on Shabbat, do I help him? Since I was not at all strict in my observance, then I should. No points for being lazy, I suppose.  On the other hand, if I were shomer shabbas, then I shouldn’t.

The question seems different when applied to my mother.  My father would not have objected to this – if fact, he would expect nothing less, just as I expect nothing less from my own son.

Before I explain my solution, I need to give a trigger warning:  my thinking is a little heterodox.  The rabbi might pronounce a ban of excommunication on me for what I’m about to say.  If there are any Litvaks or Mitnagdim here, you might want to cover your ears.

Okay?

This is not actually an issue for me.  To the best of my knowledge, the Almighty and my mother have never disagreed about anything.  And if they did, I would certainly give the Almighty the chance to make His case.

Shabbat Shalom!