By Debbi K. Levy
A tractate of the Talmud, Berakhot 63a:14, offers a bit of useful career advice for those of us eager to learn from the echoes of our ancestors:
“Bar Kappara expounded: A man should always teach his son a clean and light trade. Which is such? Rab Hisda said: Needle-stitching.”
I am fascinated with this advice. After widening the lens just enough to elevate my comfort, I imagine these words being applied to parents suggesting the idea of this trade to their children. Needle-stitching surely requires expertise and dexterity with the hands, focus of the mind and the imaginings of an emerging pattern. This skillset could become the mainstay of a productive career or even a “side-gig” in today’s world. Perhaps by “light trade,” the author is making an allowance for the luxury of a hobby that could induce joy. Did our Jewish culture lean into this teaching? A couple of prompts may find you convinced.
How many Jewish retailers have you known who may have been referred to as a “rag man?”
How many sewn objects or heirlooms surrounded you in your formative years? You know the ones: knitted baby booties, hand-sewn challah covers or my favorite, needlepointed pillows carefully placed on the plastic-covered sofa. In your mind’s eye, can you see framed masterpiece needlepoints that held your gaze during worship services at your shul?
I would even go so far as to say we are a people steadfastly grounded in needle-arts of all varieties. Undoubtedly, the construction of the Mishkan taught us in our earliest years the art of being keenly skilled with our hands. From sewing the draperies and priestly robes that added layers of holiness to rituals and offerings, to taking another needle and sacred thread made from the animals to sew parchment together, our Divinely directed crafting gave the Israelites a concrete path to retell the generations of our history with the Creator. Needle-stitching was a potent piece of our genesis.
Stepping on my bullet train and propelling ourselves to this brand-new year of 5785, we might wonder: Are we still a culture grounded in this “clean and light trade”? I have been reflecting lately on that theme and my own experience with it.
Picking up my needle and thread after a lapse of several years, I began looking for a community to share my needlepoint time. A social media post here and there and a few inquiries provided a needle arts community quickly. Gathered with Jewish people who feel as I do and cherish their time crafting, I feel like I am “home” in a way that is indescribable. Not surprisingly, the crafters I stitch with in small and larger circles are from many different congregations and some would not have met but for the common ground of our hobby. For me, there are sparks that feel holy as we gather and share knowledge gained with the work of our hands. Some of us sell our art, some of us gift our creations to grandchildren and some of us knit warm hats for patients in hospitals going through chemotherapy. Each of us finds meaning in what we are creating. I find it compelling that in a yoga practice, I feel I am praying with my whole body in moments of physical and emotional gratitude; and in needlework, my hands seem to take on a life of their own, as though they’ve known what to do all along. Perhaps they do.
Reader, if you have read thus far and not moved on to another story, you may be giving this “clean and light trade” some thought yourself. I invite you to ask within your immediate circles and outside of them,” Who creates art with a needle and thread?” This tractate from the Talmud runs right through so many of us, drawing us together to make holy sparks as we assemble and create with the work of our hands. Please consider, in these darker days of winter, partaking in this joyful hobby and community of needleworkers.
Kohenet Debbi K. Levy welcomes your conversation and especially enjoys discussion about needlepoint. Please reach out to her at debbiklevy@gmail.com.Needle-stitching in the Talmud