PARSHAS BEHALOSECHA - Upsherin

Good Shabbos.   This past Wednesday, the Capland family celebrated a somewhat rare Jewish traidition at our Synagogue, called an upsherin.   Upsherin is a yiddish word which means to cut off.

In the Torah, human life is compared to the growth of trees. And, just as it is forbidden to eat from a tree for the first three years (Leviticus 19:23), it is likewise a tradition not to cuts a boy’s hair until he has become three years old.  The primary purpose of the hair cutting is leaving the peyos (side locks) and to formally start the boy’s formal Jewish training.

This custom dates back hundreds of years, at the very least to the times of the Saintly Ari who lived in the 1500’s.  He referred to upsherin as “a well known and proper tradition”.   In fact, in the Torah we find that Avraham “made a great feast on the day that Yitzchak was weaned” (Genesis 21:8), and some of the commentaries say this corresponded to his upsherin.   

The third birthday of a child is considered to be the time when he evolves from a baby into a child.  Until 3, a baby boy depends on his mother, but starting from age three, he begins to function more and more as an independent being. This transition is symbolized by he first hair cutting.   When a child first discovers that they are separate from their mother, the awareness can be as frightening. The process of adapting into a separate being with individual wants and needs begins at an early age and continues through what is often referred to as the “terrible twos”. 

By the age of three, the boy is ready to attend school and interact and even be appreciated by others. Similar to the fruit of the tree after its third year, now their “fruit”, their personality, can be shared and appreciated by others.   So to mark this transition, the upsherin is celebrated, and specifically through the cutting of his hair.  

Up until a certain age, children often do not focus on gender much like Adam and Chava before they became aware of their nakedness. But from the age of three, as a child moves from diapers to bottles and from parents into society, this is another dimension of the transition that must be made.  From this point onward, the boy will start to do those things which boys do, such as wear a kipah and tzitzis and retain peyos.  So the haircut sort of expresses the boy losing his girlish hair to have more boyish shorter hair. 

Another lesson of the haircut is that until his 3^rd birthday, the boy’s hair was sort of wild and unkempt.   Getting a haircut and leaving the peyos symbolically represents a restraining, a maturing, and more “fitting in” to the norms of society.   There is now an acceptable way for him to look and to act.  Now he is a big boy and that means being aware and doing that which can be appreciated by others. 

In the opening of this week’ portion we learn that the tribe of Levi had to cut their hair to be initiated into communal service (Num. 8:7), and we learn about Aaron lighting the Menorah which I feel may also shed light on this custom of upsherin.  

You see, the leader of the tribe of Levi was Aaron, who was also the high priest.  At the dedication of the Tabernacle each tribe sent its prince to bring an initial offering. However, Aaron, the leader of the tribe of Levi, was not asked to present an offering. Aaron was quite upset and G-d knew it. Last week’s portion ended by listing each of the sacrifices that every other tribe brought, but Levi was left out. 

This week, we begin the portion with G-d pacifying Aaron by telling him: “You will kindle the candles.” Rashi quotes the Sages: “When Aaron saw the gifts of all the other princes and realized that neither he, nor his tribe of Levi, was invited to present a gift, he became saddened”.  G-d told him, “Do not be sad. Your portion is greater than theirs is. You will arrange and kindle the Menorah”.

The Rambam is taken aback at this idea of appeasement. Why, he asks, is lighting the Menorah a greater act than those of the princes. What is so special about lighting the Menorah?

The Rambam explains the words of the Sages.  This is an allusion to the Menorah that will be rekindled by the Chashmanoim in conjunction with the miracle of Chanukah. “Your children,” Aaron is told, “will light a special Menorah thousands of years in the future.” That is how Aaron was appeased.

But the question could still be asked:  How do you appease someone by assuring them in someday in the distant future, his great-great-great grandchildren will get to light a Menorah?

The answer lies in how to value actions.  People may do what seem to be great acts, but with the passing of time, they are quickly forgotten.  On the other hand, other people may do seemingly minor acts, yet they have a long-lasting positive impact that makes them eternal.  

Aaron’s contribution wasn’t only the lighting of the Menorah in the Tabernacle. It was the inspiration that his children and grandchildren received for all of eternity. His actions inspired the lighting of the Menorah when the Beis Hamikdash was rededicated by the Chashmanoem.  His actions inspired the Jews in the Warsaw Ghetto to light Menorahs carved out of potatoes.   His actions aroused Jews whose only attachment to Judaism may be the memory of colored candles glowing in their parent’s homes to light Menorahs in their own homes as well.  The gift that Aaron brought to the dedication did not weaken with the passing of time. Rather, it continued through his children and grandchildren throughout the generations. 

So, when Rabbi Capland who is also a Kohain and from the priestly tribe of Levi, passed on this tradition to his son, as his father passed it on to him over 30 years ago,  he formalized yet another bond of Jewish continuity, and I felt honored to have been witness to this celebration.    

May the Capland family see much nachas from their young son and may we all share in the blessing of Jewish continuity, and let us say AMEN.