On a recent Shabbos, I walked a mile to attend a beautiful shul kiddush in honor of a baby girl. She was already nine months old. That was fine because in the Askenazi community a kiddush celebrating the birth of a girl can be given at any time and place. That’s the minhag, custom. “The pattern of Jewish life is completed by a fascinating network of minhagim,” writes Abraham Chill in his sefer Minhagim, “which have evolved throughout the ages from place to place.” When a Jewish girl or a boy is born, whether Ashkenazi, Persian, Sefardi, or chasidic, many minhagim come with the gift of a new life.
A yungerman from the Chasidic Kollel in Baltimore kindly shared
chasidic minhagim. A baby girl is named in shul on the first Shabbos
after her birth with a kiddush following services. For a baby boy, on
the night before his bris, called Vochnacht (or Wachnacht), a
class of boys from cheder visits the baby and says Shema and Hamalach
Hago’el. They also sing, “How many nails on the roof – so many melachim
should be watching.” Then the children get pekalach, bags of treats.
“The father stays up learning all night before the bris,” said the yungerman,
“It’s a shemira.” People visit, give good wishes and also leave with pekalach.
That night, the mohel leaves his instruments in the crib. He adds that the Baal Shem Tov said
to leave a paper with tehillim 121 in the baby’s crib. It’s a shir
hamaalos often said at simchas as well as when Eretz Yisrael is in need.
If the newborn comes from a family of Skver chasidim, he sleeps not
in a crib but in an open drawer for the next 30 days. The mother of the baby
usually stays in the house for the next month as well. Many mothers in chasidic
communities don’t attend the brisim of their sons. This might be because
in olden days, in Europe, women were weaker after childbirth. On a personal
note, I sadly didn’t attend the bris of my first child because the
doctor told me I couldn’t climb steps, and I had four steps out of my apartment.
Now I know I was in good company!
At the bris, it’s a chasidic minhag to light lots of candles
so the child should grow up to become a talmid chacham. Another reason
is that when Moshe Rebbeinu was born, his house was filled with light.
* *
*
Candles play a part at
the brisim of German babies, too. Many candles are lit during the seudah
and saved. When the child is four or five years old and starts learning Torah,
these candles are brought out and lit again. He also receives his first tallis
at this time. Mrs. S, in Baltimore’s German community, who shared this minhag
with me, said that
when the candles were brought out, her young child said excitedly, “These are
my candles?!”
Rabbi Moshe Heinemann, Rabbinic Administrator of the Star-K and Rav of
Agudath Israel of Baltimore, graciously shared more German minhagim. He
said that before Germany was a country, the Jews lived in Bohemia and Prussia.
“Once the country was established, not everyone in Germany had German customs,”
he said. The Rav explained that the Elbe River divided Germany; the western
side had German customs while the Eastern didn’t.
One of the most well known German minhagim
is the wimpel. According to Rav Heinemann, baby boys used to be wrapped
from their shoulders to their toes so they should grow straight. That wrapping
was called a wimpel. Babies are no longer wrapped that way, but the term
lived on to describe the fabric used at the bris. It’s a long, narrow
white cloth of 100 per cent linen, which here in Baltimore is folded under the
baby. According to the sefer Shorshei Minhag Ashkenaz Sources and
Roots: Synopsis of Volumes 1-4 by Rabbi Binyomin Shlomo Hamburger,
different German communities used the cloth during the bris milah in
various ways. Some used it to cover the pillow that the infant lay on. The
oldest-known embroidered wimpel is that of a child born in a Bavarian
town in 1480.
The wimpel became a way to remember birth dates and identify the
ancestors of a Jew. For example, the Hebrew inscription on Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s wimpel
is cited in Rabbi Hamburger’s book: “The child Akiva, son of Rabbi Moshe Gins,
who was born with good fortune on Thursday, Rosh Chodesh Marcheshvan 5522, G-d
should grant [his parents] the privilege to raise him to Torah, to a marriage,
and to good deeds, amen.” (Shorshei Minhag Ashkenaz, page 197)
The wording on the fabric includes the baby’s name, his father’s name, the
date he was born, and the bracha that he should grow to Torah, chuppa,
and ma’asim tovim. The most common practice was for mothers, grandmothers,
or sisters of a newborn boy to prepare the wimple. The cloth was – and
still is – decorated with pictures in embroidery or fabric paint. In Washington
Heights (and, possibly, other places) parents hire artists to decorate the
cloth. Some mothers decorate the cloth themselves. For her son’s
wimple, Mrs. S had the wording printed on the cloth, traced the words with
fabric marker, and colored them in.
Bringing the wimpel to the synagogue is known as schultragen. When
the boy turns three years old and is toilet trained, he goes to shul on
Shabbos and helps his father wrap his wimpel around the Torah. According
to Rabbi Hamburger’s sefer, which was translated into English by David
Silverberg, when the child brings his wimpel as a gift for the Torah
scroll, he is allowed to hold onto the atzei chayim, the wooden handles
of the scroll.” This experience has a very powerful educational impact upon the
child, developing his emotional bond with the Torah” (Shorshei Minhag
Ashkenaz, page 206).
* * *
When Jews were persecuted in Germany, many fled to Poland and East European
countries such as Russia. They, like German Jews, are called Askenazim and have
similar minhagim. Baby girls are named in shul after the father
has an aliyah and a mishaberach is made for the mother’s recovery from
childbirth. As mentioned above, a kiddush, with guests wishing the
parents nachas, can follow or can take place at any time. During the
pandemic, some parents held a kiddush for their daughters in front of their
homes. Others are making up for not having the kiddush earlier by sponsoring
one in shul, such as the kiddush I recently attended.
For a boy, Ashkenazim have a shalom zachor, meaning “peace or
welcome to the boy.” It’s usually held in the baby’s home the first Friday
night after his birth. Elaborate desserts are served. Bowls of lentils and
chick peas are also put out. Round and associated with mourning, these foods
are served because the baby is being comforted for forgetting the Torah he
learned in the womb. The father or grandfather usually presides over this
festive occasion sharing divrei Torah along with the rav and
others of the community. Like chasidim, the night before the bris,
Ashkenazi Jews welcome children to recite Shema and Hamalech Hagoel, and the children are also given treats.
* * *
Instead of a shalom
zachor, Persians hold a bris Yitzhak or Zohar, where children
also come to say Shema. Rabbi Meir Khaver, of Baltimore’s large Persian community, explains that on the
evening of the bris Yitzhak, 10 men, led by the father of the
infant, learn special passages from the Zohar. “This enables the baby to
enter into the bris with a heightened level of spirituality,”said Rabbi
Khaver. A festive seudah follows. Like chasidim, the mohel places his
knife under the baby’s pillow as a segula that no harm should come to
the infant.
Perhaps the most well-known Persian – as well as Sefardic – minhag
is to name a baby after a living person, often a grandparent. This gives the
grandparent the joy of seeing the child bear his name. The Ashkenazi custom is
to name a baby after someone who passed away. Chasidim often name their
children after their late Rebbe or Rebbetzin. In all cases, the name isn’t
announced until after the bris for a boy or naming in shul for a girl.
For all Jews, a firstborn son has a pidyon haben, redemption
of the firstborn male child, after the 30th day of his life. This
beautiful ceremony is more than a minhag;
it is actually a mitzva. It rarely happens, though, because of its
requirements. The baby has to be the first child born to his mother, with other
birthing stipulations. Also, if either the mother’s or father’s family are kohanim
or levi’im, the child does
not have to be redeemed.
I have attended only a few such ceremonies. At one that stands out in my
mind, I took off my necklace and rings and added them to the jewelry of others
on the tray that held the baby. The diamond rings, gold necklaces, and
bracelets surrounding him made everything sparkle as the father handed the kohen
five silver coins to redeem his son. After the ceremony, I retrieved my jewelry
and grabbed something else from the tray: one of the many small bags containing
garlic cloves and sugar cubes. On erev Shabbos, I dropped the garlic
clove into my cholent and sat down with a cup of tea sweetened with the sugar
cube from the pidyon haben.
Obviously, many minhagim surround the birth of a Jewish baby.
Whether it’s your own child, or the child of a niece, nephew or friend, a baby
is a precious gift. As a respected rebbetzin in the Persian community said,
“The main thing to understand is how important a Jewish child is to the Jewish
people.”
