Unredeemed
Exodus 10:1 – 13:16
Shemot 13: And every firstborn of man, of your sons, you shall redeem.
In the aftermath of the Death of the Firstborn, the Torah introduces a new mitzvah: Pidyon haBen, the Redemption of the Firstborn, an obligation on the father of a firstborn son to “redeem” his son by giving a gift of silver to a Kohen.
But what happens if, intentionally or not, a firstborn is not redeemed? Halachically, the father’s obligation to redeem becomes the son’s at his bar mitzvah. The great Polish halakhist known as the Rama records a fascinating custom associated with that transition:
Get The Jewish Chronicle Weekly Edition by email and never miss our top stories Free Sign Up
Yoreh Deah [305:15]: “Some have written that ‘Unredeemed,’ should be inscribed on a silver pendant and hung on the child’s neck, so that he should know to redeem himself when he matures.”
Certainly, this silver pendant is a fascinating image: a perennial reminder for the young man of his status and his responsibility to be aware and take action when he can, rather than to be complacent in his unredeemed state.
As far as I know, even the most enterprising Judaica designer has yet to market the “Unredeemed” necklace, but in the past year another pendant has taken the world by storm: the “Bring Them Home” dog tag. A symbol of identification with the hostages held by the murderers in Gaza, even our esteemed Sen. John Fetterman has been seen many times wearing his dog tag. In these dark days, I imagine the Jewish people as a whole wearing a silver dog tag engraved with the words , “Unredeemed.”
Like the firstborn, we need constant reminders after 15 months of agony and fighting that we all remain unredeemed:
• So many brave children, siblings, spouses and parents have spent untold months in mortal danger defending the Jewish people in Gaza and in the North — and remain unredeemed.
• Even in these weeks when we’ve begun to see the return of some of our beloved hostages, so many of our kidnapped continue to languish in the horrors of Hamas captivity, yearning for pdyon shevuyim, the redemption of captives — and remain unredeemed.
• So many live in terror for the fate of their loved ones — and remain unredeemed.
• So many have been forced to leave their homes — and remain unredeemed.
• So many widows and orphans, bereaved parents and fiancées — remain Unredeemed.
We Diaspora Jews each need to cultivate the constant consciousness that we remain unredeemed, and let that continue to motivate
and move us.
I wonder, however, if the pendant is not solely for the child’s benefit. Perhaps it is intended as well as a constant, silent rebuke and reminder to the recalcitrant father who failed to address this covenantal obligation of fatherhood; a reminder that it’s never too late
for him to rectify his mistake.
Just like the silver pendant of the unredeemed son, our dog tag is intended for our Father as well. This is not a case of an orphaned bechor, bereft of a father to redeem him.
We believe with every fiber of our being that Od Avinu Chai, that our Father in Heaven lives forever, which makes the conundrum of our Unredeemed reality all the more enigmatic and painful.
So we continue to display our pendant to our Father, begging him when He sees us: O God, redeem Israel from all its troubles.
Notwithstanding the Rama, the consensus of halakhists is that this pendant is unnecessary. Citing among other concerns the near certainty that the silver plaque will disappear long before adulthood (something certainly born out in my misadventures in parenthood), most believe there is another solution to the plight of the unredeemed child that requires neither waiting for adulthood nor for the father to do his part. Rather, they maintain that it is the role of Beis Din, the representatives of the community as a whole, to intervene and redeem the son in infancy.
Perhaps the core of our response to an Unredeemed Jewish people is seeing ourselves as imbued with the power and obligation to take responsibility to make our own interventions.
• In the world of tzedakah, continuing to leverage our resources to mitigate the suffering of so many, we are the Beis Din.
• In the world of lobbying and diplomacy, continuing to call and write our elected officials and show up for rallies and vigils, we are the Beis Din.
• In the world of public advocacy, of making the case for Israel in the media and on the internet, we are the Beis Din.
• And in fighting on the spiritual plane, in terms of what we can accomplish with every prayer, every chapter of Psalms, we are the Beis Din.
In a world where we remain unredeemed, we return to the ancient promise enshrined in Tehillim: Israel, hope to Hashem, for kindness is with Hashem and much redemption is with Him. And He will redeem Israel. PJC
Rabbi Daniel Yolkut is the rabbi of Congregation Poale Zedeck. This column is a service of the Vaad Harabonim of Greater Pittsburgh.
comments