Another Baby, Another Whole World

This week, I saw something tragic. Our cousins had a baby who was born extremely premature and lived in this world for only a few minutes. My cousin and I spoke about the unique gift of breath, and how every breath carries its own unique praise of G-d.

Which made me think deeply about something on my mind since the Holiday of Shavuos.

There is a well-known teaching of our Sages, that when G-d gave the Torah at Mount Sinai, every Jewish soul was present. Not only the generation that left Egypt, or those who were physically alive at that time.

Every Jewish soul that would ever be born (or convert) into the Jewish people was there at Mt. Sinai making a covenant with G-d.

That means that Sinai was not only a national event. G-d was not only making a covenant with the Jewish people as a collective whole. He was making a covenant with each and every single soul.

Every soul had to be there. Every soul had to be part of the covenant. Even the souls that had not yet been born had to receive their own unique piece of the mission.

Which means there is no such thing as an unnecessary or redundant soul.

Sometimes, from our human perspective, a soul can seem like it did not have time to do much. We measure life in years, in accomplishments, in memories, in stories, in what a person built, taught, gave, or changed.

But a soul is not measured only by time.

A soul that is here for eighty seconds and a soul that is here for eighty years are both sent by G-d. We may not understand the mission of a soul that came into this world for only a few minutes.

But just because we don’t understand it, does not mean there was no mission.

There is a famous story about Rabbi Akiva. Before he became a great and famous Rabbi, he was a simple shepherd. One day, he saw water dripping onto a stone. Drop after drop after drop. Over time, those small drops made a hole in the hard rock.

When Rabbi Akiva saw how the constant dripping of the soft water could transform the rock he famously said, if soft water can enter hard stone, then Torah can enter my heart too.

Usually, we understand the story where we are the stone, and Torah is the water transforming us. But I once read another brilliant way to understand this metaphor.

Each Jewish soul is another drop in the constant stream of Jewish souls transforming the stone of this universe.

There are drops of water in the ocean, and there are drops of a stream flowing by one after another.

A drop in the ocean becomes part of something much larger than itself, but its own identity disappears. But the flow of water coming one drop after another, create a stream of water far from its original source.

A Jewish soul is not a drop in the ocean.

A Jewish soul is an individual drop of water transforming the stone of our coarse and corporeal universe.

Each one drop may look small. It may seem almost invisible as it falls and disappears into the great mass of water below. But the stone is only shaped because every drop was there.

In rabbi Akiva’s metaphor, which drop made the hole? Was it the first? The last? The one in the middle?

The obvious answer is, all of them.

If even one drop is missing, the story is not complete.

That is how we must think about every Jewish soul. We are part of one people, but we are individual drops. We are part of one mission, but we are not interchangeable parts. Every soul has its own light, its own purpose, and its own part in revealing G-dliness in this world.

This is not only the inner message of our unborn souls presence at Mt. Sinai, it is also the explanation for one of the most repetitive descriptions in the entire Torah. Twelve times the Torah repeats the exact same twelve sets of offerings brought by the twelve princes of the twelve tribes when the Mishkan was dedicated.

Each prince brought the exact same offering. The same silver bowl. The same spoon of incense. The same animals. The same gifts and the same amounts.

And yet the Torah repeats the full offering twelve times.

The Torah is careful with every letter. So why repeat the same thing again and again?

Because they were not the same.

Yes, from below, they looked the same. But from above, they were twelve different lights.

Each tribe has a different soul-root. Each tribe had a different spiritual path. Each tribe had a different way of revealing G-d’s presence in the world. So even though the offerings looked identical, spiritually they were not identical at all.

The Torah repeats it because Heaven does not see copies. Heaven sees souls.

The offering of Yehudah was the unique light of Yehudah. And the offering of Reuven was the unique light of Reuven. The spiritual contribution of Yissachar was different then the light created by the gifts of Zevulun.

This is not only true about the leader of the tribes. It is as true about every one of us.

Two people can do the same mitzvah, but it is not the same light. Two people can say the same prayer, but it is not the same voice. Two people can give the same amount of charity, but it is not the same offering.

Yes, the action may look similar from the outside, but the soul inside the action is completely unique.

And if that is true of a mitzvah, it is certainly true of the person himself.

A baby is not valuable because of what the baby accomplishes. A human being is valuable because this is a soul sent here by G-d.

That is true when a soul lives here for many years. And it is true when a soul only lives here for a few minutes. The length of the mission is not what gives the soul its value.

The soul’s value is infinite because it comes from an infinite G-d.

Sometimes a soul’s mission is long and visible. Sometimes it is quiet and hidden. Sometimes it lasts eighty years. Sometimes it lasts eight seconds. But every soul that enters this world brings something that no other soul can bring.

Today, people often speak about having children through the lens of finances and work schedules. Can we afford another child? Do we have the energy for more kids? What about sleep? What about college? What about our vacation plans?

All good questions. But what’s far more important to remember is that giving birth to another child is not only adding another bill to your budget, or another car seat to your minivan.

It is a whole new soul entering this world. A unique and unexchangeable light of an infinite G-d entering our universe. It is another part of our covenant in Sinai entering the world.

If our purpose in creation is to make this world a dwelling place for G-d, then every Jewish child we bring into this world helps reveal that light in a way no one else can.

And this is just as true for the way we look at ourselves.

A person can sometimes think, what am I really adding to the universe? Others know more. Others do more. Others are more inspired. My mitzvah is small. My prayer is distracted. My kindness is simple. My life does not seem to be changing the world.

But that is only because we are looking from below.

From above, Heaven does not see copies. Heaven sees souls.

Your soul stood at Sinai. Your life has a mission that no one else can live. Your mitzvah reveals a light that no one else can reveal. Your kindness reaches a place that no one else can reach. Your choices matter. Your Jewish home matters. Your light matters.

And for as long as we are here, our purpose is obviously not yet finished.

May G-d comfort my cousins and every parent who has known this kind of pain where the light of G-d came to your life for too short to fully appreciate the gift you had been given. May He give strength to every family carrying love for a child they did not get to hold long enough.

And may we also learn to look at every baby, at every person, and ourselves with more awe. With more appreciation for the tremendous unique gift this person brings to the world, and the special light they are shining on this universe.

Do not underestimate your light.

The world is waiting for the drop only you can bring.

Good Shabbos,

Rabbi Yankie & Chana Denburg