And on the eighth day you shall circumcise his flesh Vayikrah 12:3
When a child is entered into a Bris Milah, two blessings are recited. Immediately before the circumcision, the Mohel recites “Al Mitzvas Milah” (on the commandant of Milah) and right after the circumcision, the father recites “LiHachniso Bi Bris” “Who has commanded us to enter him into a bris.” The Lavush explains that these are two very different brachas. The Mohel, representing the father in performing the bris, makes the standard blessing on the Mitzvah of Milah. Now that this boy has been entered into the bris of Avraham, the father begins his role as the one responsible to train his son in mitzvahs. As such, the father makes a blessing of thanksgiving, praising HASHEM for this great opportunity to guide his son in mitzvahs.
This concept is difficult to understand as thirteen years later there is another blessing that the father is obligated to make which seems to be the exact opposite—Boruch She Patrini- Blessed be you HASHEM whose has freed me from this burden. Up until this point the father was halachicly obligated to train his son in doing mitzvahs, if the son failed it would be the father’s responsibility. now that the young man has reached a level of maturity it is now his responsibility and not the fathers. This removal of responsibility is so great a relief that the father is required to make a blessing—again a blessing of thanksgiving, but seemingly of the opposite sentiment. Is the father’s role a great prospect, to be celebrated at it’s happening, or a heavy burden to be regaled upon its removal?
The answer to this question can be understood with a parable. Imagine you hear about a man who showed up to work drunk. Initially you're quite critical of him, but then you hear the rest of the story and your opinion softens. As it turns out, one of his children is quite ill. For years, he’s been taking off from work to take his son for treatments, as a result the family finances have been suffering, and because of all the stress, his marriage is on the rocks.—in short, he’s going through a rough time, he's been drinking more than he should be, and he showed up to work high. “Okay, listen”, you say to yourself, “not the most noble of things to do – but in context, it’s understandable.”
Until you find out that he’s a pilot, and because he showed up to work drunk, he crashed a fully loaded 747 into the ocean, killing 400 passengers. Now there is no tolerance, because certain jobs leave no room for “having a bad day”.
This is a parable to life. HASHEM took you from under His throne of glory and put you into a body to give you a chance to grow, to accomplish and to change the essence of you. But, it wasn’t just you that you were charged with perfecting. Chazal tell us that each person is obligated to say “The entire world was created for me”, because HASHEM would have created an entire world just for him.
The sun the moon, the planets, the entire cosmos were brought into being to serve man. If he uses the world properly, he accomplishes his goal, and the world itself is elevated having served the purpose for which it was created. If he squanders his time than the world itself is diminished. As such the world itself is dependent upon man.
We have each been gifted with this position of being the center and reason for all of Creation. And while it is an astounding opportunity, it also a grave responsibility: I am the pilot of my life. Whether I steer this plane straight up to the sky, or crash it into the ground is based on my choices and my decisions. If I reach my potential, I will be greater than angels, if I fail, I will be lower than the animals created to serve me.
And this seems to be the answer to the contradictory sentiments in the brachas. One of the greatest joys in life is having children, and part of that joy comes from the sense of responsibility to care from this little person. It is however, a formidable charge—responsible for the physical, psychological, educational, moral, and religious needs of this child and to guide him to become the great human being he was destined to be. It is nothing short of daunting.
When a father enters his son into the Bris, he should feel both emotions: a great f joy at the opportunity ahead, and at the same time recognizing the gravity of his mission. Both sense are correct, and both need to be there. Without the joy, a person would never be able to shoulder the responsibility, and without a recognition of the gravity a person could never experience the joy of being given that opportunity.
And then thirteen years later, at the Bar Mitzvah the father again gives a blessing of thanksgiving, this time thanking HASHEM for removing the grave obligation—hopefully having had discharged his responsibility as best he could. While having a child is instinctively a joyous occasion, the more a person understands the role of parents and their responsibilities, the better equipped they are can look at this child with the one guiding focus of proper parenting—what is the best I can do for this child.
Reprinted from this week’s email of The Shmuz.com
