Bris Milah Circumcision Jewish Mil Jews

The Covenant of Circumcision And G-d said unto Avroham: “And as for you, you shall keep My covenant, you, and your seed after you throughout their generations. This is My covenant, which you shall keep, between Me and you and your seed after you: every male among you shall be circumcised. And you shall be circumcised in the flesh of your foreskin; and it shall be a token of a covenant between Me and you. And he that is eight days old shall be circumcised among you, every male throughout your generations, he that is born in the house, or bought with money of any foreigner, that is not of your seed… and My covenant shall be in your flesh for an everlasting covenant. And the uncircumcised male who is not circumcised in the flesh of his foreskin, that soul shall be cut off from his people; he has broken My covenant.” — Genesis 17: 9-14 Within the Jewish community, the topic of bris mil ah, ritual circumcision, has never been more controversial.

Many liberal Jews are now rethinking its function in Jewish life, some even choosing not to perform it on their sons. They argue that circumcision is no longer of value now that the spread of infection can be halted by good hygiene and modern medicine. Some fear that the removal of the healthy part of an organ is a purely arbitrary act which may cause permanent psychological and physical damage. It is true that circumcision alone is neither medically necessary nor emotionally beneficial. Still, the bris mil ah is an essential ceremony intended to formally usher the Jewish male into a covenant with G-d.

Although the removal of the foreskin has been practiced by Jews sinceAvroham, the actual ceremony as it is today developed some time around the middle-ages. Thus, communities in North Africa, Europe, and the Middle-East all evolved unique customs for welcoming new baby boys. There are still certain elements that are typical of all ceremonies. The following description of a German bris is typical of the mil ah ritual and lacks many of the details that would distinguish it from ceremonies originating in other regions.

The model, ritual, calls in the (from German ‘for father’, or G-d father), the man who ‘delivers’ the baby into the sanctuary. The mother, who will not witness the ceremony, hands her eight-day-old son into the care of his grandmothers who pass him over to the. Thekvater carries the baby into the next room and lays him into a beautiful chair which the model will declare as the Throne of Elijah before reciting a few biblical verses. The kv ” at erin, G-dm other, lifts the baby from the Throne of Elijah and places him into the lap of the San dak, the man (usually the father, grandfather, close friend, or well respected Torah scholar) in whose lap the ceremony will take place. The model asks the father’s permission to act as proxy for the mitzvah, commandment, of circumcision. The father relinquishes his right to perform the circumcision and appoints the model, who is more familiar with the religious law as well as the medical and hygienic requirements of circumcision, to do the mitzvah instead.

The the benediction, ‘Blessed are You ha ” Shem our G-d, Master of the universe who sanctifies us with the mitzvoth and commands us to perform circumcision,’ before removing the baby’s foreskin. When the actual cutting has been complete, the father also makes a benediction: ‘Blessed are You ha ” Shem our G-d, Master of the universe who has sanctified us with His commandments and has commanded us to bring him [the baby] into the covenant of Avroham, our Father.’ Everyone in the audience then declares,’ Just as he has been brought into the covenant, so too he should enter Torah study, the wedding canopy, and the doing of good deeds” (Klein 426). It is during this ceremony that the boy’s name is publicly announced for the first time (Robinson 132). Bris Milah literally means ‘covenant circumcision.’ Ashkenazic, Northern- and Eastern-European Jewish, communities refer to the entire ceremony as a ‘Bris’ which means simply ‘the covenant’.

Rabbi Moshe Schapiro emphasizes that ‘the circumcision must be coupled with the intention to forge a blood pact between G-d and the Jewish people.’ That bris mil ah is frequently translated only as ‘circumcision’ is unfortunate because it leads people to believe that the removal of the foreskin is the most important element of the mitzvah. This is in conflict with Jewish thinking. Indeed, someone who is circumcised without the intent of fulfilling this specific commandment must undergo a subsequent, relatively painless, procedure in which a drop of blood is drawn from the reproductive organ in the name of the bris. This procedure is most commonly performed on male converts to Judaism who underwent medical circumcisions as children. The commandment is often seen as barbaric in the modern day. As Rabbi Shraga Simmons points out, ‘there is no ‘logical’ argument for cutting a piece of flesh off a helpless baby.’ Three years ago Israeli courts held hearings to discuss the famous case number 5780/98 which would outlaw circumcision as a form of genital mutilation.

Indeed, to remove a healthy part of an organ is ridiculous in a secular context, and yet it has been practiced on Jewish males for nearly 4, 000 years. The great question is why. One must first realize that Judaism is not a ‘practical’ guide to living but a theological guide to spirituality. Many people have claimed over the years that circumcision was practiced by the Jews for hygienic reasons however, this explanation is foreign to Jewish thinking and is absent from the earliest commentaries and oral laws of torah. The Jews were never regarded as healthier than their non-Jewish, uncircumcised neighbors. They did not perform mil ah on their sons because they hoped to prevent infection, but because they felt that it was a religious obligation.

The Jews do not conform to religious obligations because they believe it is physically healthy to do so (if there are any medical benefits, these are considered secondary) but because they believe it is spiritually healthy to do so. To disobey the Laws of ha ” Shem, G-d, is looked upon as spiritual mutilation. According to Jewish mysticism, or kabbalah, ‘the foreskin symbolizes a barrier which prevents growth’ (Simmons). Deuteronomy 10: 16 calls up onus to ‘remove the foreskin of [our] heart[s].’ Or lah, the Hebrew term translated as ‘foreskin’ literally means ‘barrier’.

The foreskin is seen as a barrier to the spiritual growth of the uncircumcised individual. In another kabbalistic example, we are taught that when A vram circumcised himself, at age 99, G-d changed his name to Avroham. He added only one letter to his name: heh. The letter heh is found twice in one of the most holy of ha ” Shem’s names signifying that through the bris mil ah a dimension of spirituality is brought to the physical body. So, why on the eighth day? The answer is twofold. Schapiro believes that the number eight has a special metaphysical significance.

He notes that the number six alludes to the physical world: there are six directions (north, south, east, west, up and down); there are six days to the work week, and according to the Chumash there were six ‘days’ of creation. The number seven, he adds brings a sense of spirituality to this physical world: the seventh day of the week, Shabbos, isa Jewish holy day, and many Jewish festivals, including Sukkot last for seven days. The number eight however, ‘transcends the physical altogether’. For example, the festival of Chanukah, which commemorates a great miracle lasts eight days.

The second reason is one that might be considered a ‘practical benefit ” which is supported by medical data. According to Simmons, prothrombin and vitamin K, two blood clotting agents, are at peak levels on the eighth day of life. Prothrombin levels are normal at birth but drop dramatically during the next few days. However, at the end of the first week, levels of prothrombin return to normal and are often at 110 percent of normal before stabilizing by the ninth or tenth day. Still, the most ‘logical’ reason to perform a ritual circumcision is, in the religious context, simply to act as the sign of the covenant G-d made with Avroham because this is the reason that we a retaught through Torah. Aside from the de-emphasis of physical matters involved in the procedure, traditional Jews avoid reference to health benefits because, for the most part, ‘medicine doesn’t appear to be on our side’ (Fink).

Writer Mordechai Housman insists that there has never been a reported case of health danger to a child circumcised by an Orthodox model, but mother, Lisa Braver Moss claims that there are two known bris mil ah related deaths in modern times: one in 1957 and another in 1978. Moss admits that ‘no systematic data on deaths or serious complications from bris mil ah have ever been compiled’ but believes this may be due to the fact that ‘circumcision death can occur from secondary causes such as liver failure, pneumonia, and blood poisoning’ which ‘health professionals may fail to link [… ] to their original cause.’ Nonfatal complications are equally unlikely to be associated with circumcision. Although the majority of modern Jews argue that the rite is harmless, historically Jews were not so certain of the safety of the procedure.

Talmudic law exempts a Jewish male from infant circumcision if two of his older brothers lost their lives to the ritual. Though, as the Orthodox will argue, this case was hypothetical and not based on an actual incident, there are still two Biblical examples of a parent’s failure to perform mil ah on his son due to concerns over his health. Exodus 4: 24-26 relates the story of the circumcision of Eliezer son of Moses. The Bible’s rendering of the story is short, cryptic and confusing: It was on the way, in the lodging, that ha ” Shem encountered him and sought to kill him. So Tzipporah took a sharp stone and cut off the foreskin of her son and touched it to his feet; and she said, ‘You caused my bridegroom’s bloodshed!’ So He released him; then she said, ‘A bridegroom’s bloodshed was because of circumcision.’ The great Torah commentator Rabbi Shlomo Yitzach (Rashi), says that Moses’s great sin was in delaying the mil ah of his son. Moses felt that the trip he was about to embark upon would be dangerous for the newborn who, he felt, should be allowed three days to recuperate after circumcision before he embarked upon his journey (Sh ” mos 24).

In an earlier example, Midrash tells us that Yitzach did not circumcise his son Esav because he feared for his health. Esav, unlike his twin Ya ” azov, was born with bright redskin. Yitzach worried that this was due to illness and that to perform him would be dangerous. Esav was given a second opportunity for when he became bar mitzvah (the age of majority) but he refused it (Beraishis 140). These biblical examples provide us with some vital information about the importance of bris mil ah.

On the surface we can see quiet clearly that the ‘conservatives’ are wrong: circumcision is potentially dangerous, and Torah recognizes this. More importantly though, we learn how vitally necessary bris mil ah is to the Jews. Moses almost lost his life because he delayed his son’s circumcision too long. And Esav lost his status as a Jewish patriarch because he refused to let anyone perform mil ah on him even after it was clearly a safe endeavor. The ramifications of spiritual disobedience are significant. And just as the punishment for neglecting the mitzvah is severe, so the merit for properly attending to it is tremendous.

The devotion of the Jewish people to the rite of mil ah even during times of difficulty is a testimony to its importance in Jewish life. When outlawed by the Greeks during the era of the Maccabean leadership, many Jewish mothers risked their lives to circumcise their sons. Even in the modern era Jews have undergone heroic acts for the preservation of the mitzvah. Holocaust survivor Aviel Binyomin Coquette remembers the following story: They were rounding up the young children and mothers and they put us onto a train car. There was one woman — she did not cover her hair — who looked particularly distressed. She asked all of the passengers in our car for a knife.

But we were all women and children. No knives. She then started to look around for any sharp object. She wanted a shard of glass, or a sharp rock — anything you might cut with. The other passengers tried to dissuade her.

They scolded her for her weakness and begged her not to kill herself. Finally a soldier came through and she saw the outline of a knife in his pocket. She demanded he hand it over to her. In shock he complied. Then, to our astonishment, she pulled from her bag a small infant boy. She said the blessings and performed the mil ah on him.

She handed her child over to the officer and spoke to G-d, ‘You gave me a healthy boy and now I return him to You in purity and obedience to Torah.’ Similarly, many Jews in the Former Soviet Union (FSU) were not circumcised due to secular laws and a general lack of interest in religious practice. However, the desire for bris mil ah was never completely eradicated and when Western Jews were finally allowed to enter the FSU they were greeted by large numbers of adult males who wished to undergo bris mil ah. Model Alexander Fink recalled his surprise at the large number of Jews who came to see him at his arrival in the Ukraine: I was sure they’d all come to see the rabbi. They’d heard his tapes before we came and had seemed really impressed. There were so many of them.

From age eleven to eighty. At least a hundred men. And they were there to see me! I couldn’t believe they’d be so excited about mil ah. More interested in receiving mil ah than in seeing the rabbi.

They wanted to be circumcised more than they wanted to be learned. The idea of a covenant is a rather difficult concept for the outsider to comprehend. The relationship between the Jews and ha ” Shem, their G-d, is understood as a straightforward contract, ‘I will be your G-d, and you will be My people.’ The Jews will obey ha ” Shem and He will see that their needs are met. The mil ah is the most visible sign of the covenant as it is inscribed on a person’s body and serves as a daily reminder to the Jewish male of his status as a servant of ha ” Shem and mankind. Until very recently, even the most liberal Jews felt that circumcision — though not necessarily the bris — was essential to Jewish practice. The status of an uncircumcised male in Jewish culture was undefined.

He was in a strange state of being both Jewish and non-Jewish. A Jew trapped in a non-Jewish body. A bizarre spiritual circumstance that could not be redeemed until the man took matters into his own hands and underwent a circumcision. Indeed, Yeshiva student Joshua Konig, suggests that the gates of heaven will not open up for an uncircumcised Jewish male.’ A Jew’s obligation is to serve Ha Shem and observe the Torah his entire life, even under the most desperate circumstances (Scheinbaum 204). Works CitedColquette, Aviel Binyomin.

Personal interview. 18 Nov. 2001. Fink, Alexander. Personal Interview.

10 Oct. 2001. Housman, Mordechai. Circumcision and Your Child’s Health. 5 Nov.

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Konig, Joshua. Personal interview. 28 Nov. 2001. Moss, Lisa Braver. Circumcision: A Jewish Inquiry.

Midstream magazine. 5 Nov. 2001. . Robinson, George.

Essential Judaism: A Complete Guide to the Believes, Customs, and Rituals. Ch. 3. New York: Pocket Books, 2000.

Schapiro, Rabbi Moshe. What is Circumcision? Aish Ha Torah. 15 Oct. 2001. .

Scheinbaum, Rabbi A. Lib. Peninim On The Torah. Cleveland, Ohio: Kisvei Publications, 2000. Simmons, Rabbi Shraga. Bris Milah: Beautiful or Barbaric? Aish Ha Torah.

15 Oct. 2001. . Weissman, Rabbi Moshe.

The Little Midrash Says: The Book of Beraishis. Brooklyn, New York: Bnay Yaakov Publications, 1986. Weissman, Rabbi Moshe. The Little Midrash Says: The Book of Sh ” mos. Brooklyn, New York: Bnay Yaakov Publications, 1987.