For those who struggle with infertility, the battle is one which is often waged in private, with very little support from family or friends, unless a choice is made to share the information. I don't think it is anyone's place to impose their advice or opinions (or to say such insensitive things like "So when are you guys going to have a baby?"), unless said advice or opinions are sought by those who struggle. While I certainly don't have answers beyond doing research, preparing the body with the proper nutrition and vitamins, and seeking out the best medical help possible, here is a religious approach that suggests there is more to what meets the eye than medical charts.
Parshat Tazria
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Last week I quoted the Midrash Aggadah on “Yom HaShmini” who raised the possibility that one of the interpretations of Kohelet 11:2 which speaks of seven becoming eight, is that of Rabbi Yehuda bar Simone who said that "Seven" refers to the days of the Niddah period. If the laws of Niddah are followed (7), the Midrash suggests in the name of God, a child will be born who will be circumcised on the 8th day.
Sounds like a pretty good guarantee.
In another passage in the Midrash Aggadah on our parsha, we are reminded of how there are three partners in the creation of a human being: the father, the mother and God. This notion comes from the Talmud (Kiddushin 30b, Niddah 31a), and many homiletical teachings emerge from it.
But perhaps the most profound thought, certainly one that crosses the mind of God-fearing parents when their children are born, is how clearly one can understand that God is in this world when one observes a newborn.
Of course the initial passage above is a nice thought. But there are plenty of people who observe these laws meticulously and still struggle with infertility (as well as those who don't follow them, who have no problems). If only such a guarantee came with a warranty.
Alas, as everyone knows, it’s not always so simple.
In his Toldot Yitzchak, Rabbi Yitzchak Caro utilized a Talmudic teaching to explain how an expectant parent must pray for the fertilization to take root in the first three days, from day 3 to day 40 pray for a male child, from day 40 to the end of the first trimester pray that it shouldn’t be a miscarriage, from 3 months to 6 months pray that it should not be a stillborn, from 6 months pray that it should be born in peace.
If so, he concludes, it seems that the health of the child and success of the pregnancy is dependent on prayer much more than on nature.
With regard to the praying for a “male” child – well, this passage is on the segment that says “When a woman conceives and gives birth to a male.” (For those who like “The Godfather,” think of the blessing Luca Brasi gave Don Corleone at the Godfather’s daughter’s wedding.) [Of course there are people who "want" to have a boy. There are also people who "want" to have a girl. Most people are happy to have a child and gender does not matter.]
Otherwise, the passage speaks for itself about prayer’s role in all of this.
When I was in his class, Rabbi Moshe Tendler would often tell us that there are so many possible genetic mutations that could take place in the development of a fetus, it is a miracle that anyone is born without some kind of problem. Baruch Hashem.
In our world of science and rationalism, we tend to aim to find explanations for why things go right, and even moreso for when things go wrong.
But maybe, just maybe, we don’t have all the answers because some causes and cases go beyond the realm of the natural world. An unhealthy woman gives birth to a completely healthy and normal baby. A healthy woman can’t carry a baby to term. What’s wrong with this picture?
I don’t have the answers. But the Toldot Yitzchak did offer a suggestion, which I believe is only highlighted due to Rabbi Tendler’s insight about genetics. There is a need for prayer that goes far beyond our understanding, and enters the realm of the cosmos in terms of where it sits, lies and waits, and then returns to influence the world.
Are following the laws of Niddah and committing to prayer guarantees that a child will be born, and in good health? Of course not.
But as the old Jewish joke goes: a performer in a live show has a heart attack and dies on stage. As the stage manager comes out to give mouth-to-mouth, a woman in the audience yells out “Give him an enema! Give him an enema!” She is told, “This man is dead. An enema won’t help.” “Well, it wouldn’t hurt!”
While the punchline of the joke, "It can't hurt" is more than likely true with respect to prayer and Niddah observance, the other side of it, "That maybe it can really help" is certainly not worth dropping at the wayside.
Let those who are struggling to have that child find fulfillment in a more dedicated commitment to the laws of Niddah and to prayer. Especially praying for someone else who has similar needs . Who knows? Maybe sooner than later, prayers will be answered.
Amen. May it only be so for all of us.
A blog of Torah thoughts and the occasional musing about Judaism, by Rabbi Avi Billet (Comments are moderated. Anonymity is discouraged.)
Showing posts with label bris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bris. Show all posts
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Friday, April 17, 2015
When Seven Turns Into Eight
For more on the "Eighth Day" - see here
Parshat Shmini
by Rabbi Avi Billet
This week and next week, the Torah portion begins with the phrase “Yom HaShmini” referring to an eighth day. In our parsha, the reference is to the eighth day of the “Miluim” – the time when the Tabernacle was dedicated in the wilderness.
Next week we will be reading of the process a woman goes through after giving birth, and how on the eighth day after a boy is born, he is to be circumcised.
Is there a connection between these “eighth day”s?
The Midrash Aggadah makes the connection, quoting a verse in Kohelet (11:2), “Give a portion to seven and even to eight, for you do not know what evil will be on the earth” as a springboard to saying there are a number of things that are seven, which lead to number eight.
Moshe had a 7-day conversation with God at the burning bush before he was ready for his eighth day – to move on to be the deliverer from bondage. Rabbi Elazar (or Eliezer) said 7 refers to the days of a week, and 8 refers to Bris Milah. Rain fell in the times of Elijah the Prophet (after several years of drought), in the merit of these two mitzvot: Shabbos and Bris Milah.
Rabbi Yehoshua said 7 refers to the (Biblical) days of Pesach, while 8 refers to the eight days of Sukkot (which include Shmini Atzeret).
Rabbi Simone said 7 refers to the 7th day of the korbanot (offerings) of the N’siim (princes) in Bamidbar 7, and 8 refers to the 8th day of the same korbanot – the offerings brought by the princes of Ephraim and Menashe.
Rabbi Yehuda said 7 refers to niddah (proper observance of the laws of family purity), which can lead to the birth of a boy who is circumcised on his eighth day of life.
Rabbi Azarya (also attributed to Rabbi Eliezer) said the verse refers to the 7 days of Miluim (dedication of the Tabernacle), and 8 refers to the Eighth day of our parsha.
The Midrash Rabba adds to this list:
Rabbi Azarya said Moshe supervised over the Bris Milah of the 7th generation (Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, Levi, Kehat, Amram, Moshe), while Yehoshua supervised the Bris Milah of the 8th generation as they entered the land of Canaan.
Rabbi Levi said there are seven days of sukkot, and eight is Shmini Atzeret.
Rabbenu Bachaye notes the Midrash Mishlei which pointed to a number of Mitzvot in the Torah themed around the number 7: Shabbos, Shmittah (7 years), and Yovel (7 cycles of Shmittah). There are 7 days of Pesach, 7 days of Sukkos. The 4 Species actually have 7 items (1 lulav, 1 esrog, 2 aravos, 3 hadasim), there are 7 days of mourning, and 7 days of rejoicing (after a wedding) – all of this alludes to the 7 days of Creation. The reason Aharon was not consecrated as the High Priest during the 7 days of Miluim is because his role is designated to serve the One and Only God. The eighth day, which is seven plus One, serves as a “one up” on the seven, as it focuses on looking back at the 7 through the prism of serving the One.
The Mishkan highlights the number 8: the number of the High Priest’s garments, the number of spices in the anointing oil (4) and k’tores (4) - combined, the number of poles (2 each for ark, table, small and large mizbeachs), an animal can’t be brought as an offering until it is eight days old, the number of instruments/styles of music the Levites used when they sang songs (based on Tehillim 90, 53, 9, 5, 45, 8, 6).
Kli Yakar illustrates how all Moshe’s glorification of God came under the rubric of the word “Az” (alef zayin) (See Shmot 5:23, 15:1). The alef (1) rides on the zayin (7), to indicate God’s kingship over the seven planets (interestingly, he mentions seven planets in the 1600s, when planet #7 – Uranus was discovered in 1781 by Sir William Herschel, and Neptune wasn’t discovered until 1846!), and over the world created in 7 days. Eight, therefore, is a reference to Godlike qualities that go beyond the base of creation and of this world. This explains why an animal is not fit to be a sacrificial offering until it is at least eight days old.
The key to understanding the significance of 7 and 8, however, rests in the verse in Kohelet. In his explanation of the teaching that 7 refers to the days of the week and 8 refers to Bris Milah, the Torah Temimah suggests that our goal during the 7 days is to be preparing for what’s coming. Every day we prepare for Shabbos. After the birth of a boy, we are preparing for his bris celebration.
Shabbos and Milah share a commonality – the merits of both saved the Jewish people in the time of Elijah the Prophet. And the need for preparation in general serves as a reminder that a person should never put off preparing for the future when the opportunity to prepare presents itself. Who knows? Maybe such a chance to prepare will never be available again. This is the meaning of the second half of the verse in Kohelet. We have no crystal ball. We do not know what the future will bring.
Indeed, all of the holidays (including Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, which are included in the Kohelet verse in the word “v’gam” – and also), are considered to be days of judgment. Perhaps the verse is teaching us, the Torah Temimah concludes, that those who observe the laws of the holidays, and of Shabbos and Bris Milah, are protected from evil, and certainly from any judgment for gehinnom.
In the end, the Eighth Day of our parsha serves as a model for what the best kind of connection to God is, and how to serve Him. We are to do our best to prepare for the eighth day, and we are to highlight the eighth day as the day that demonstrates His power on earth, and what it means to tap into the holiness that goes above and beyond the base of the seven days of Creation.
Parshat Shmini
by Rabbi Avi Billet
This week and next week, the Torah portion begins with the phrase “Yom HaShmini” referring to an eighth day. In our parsha, the reference is to the eighth day of the “Miluim” – the time when the Tabernacle was dedicated in the wilderness.
Next week we will be reading of the process a woman goes through after giving birth, and how on the eighth day after a boy is born, he is to be circumcised.
Is there a connection between these “eighth day”s?
The Midrash Aggadah makes the connection, quoting a verse in Kohelet (11:2), “Give a portion to seven and even to eight, for you do not know what evil will be on the earth” as a springboard to saying there are a number of things that are seven, which lead to number eight.
Moshe had a 7-day conversation with God at the burning bush before he was ready for his eighth day – to move on to be the deliverer from bondage. Rabbi Elazar (or Eliezer) said 7 refers to the days of a week, and 8 refers to Bris Milah. Rain fell in the times of Elijah the Prophet (after several years of drought), in the merit of these two mitzvot: Shabbos and Bris Milah.
Rabbi Yehoshua said 7 refers to the (Biblical) days of Pesach, while 8 refers to the eight days of Sukkot (which include Shmini Atzeret).
Rabbi Simone said 7 refers to the 7th day of the korbanot (offerings) of the N’siim (princes) in Bamidbar 7, and 8 refers to the 8th day of the same korbanot – the offerings brought by the princes of Ephraim and Menashe.
Rabbi Yehuda said 7 refers to niddah (proper observance of the laws of family purity), which can lead to the birth of a boy who is circumcised on his eighth day of life.
Rabbi Azarya (also attributed to Rabbi Eliezer) said the verse refers to the 7 days of Miluim (dedication of the Tabernacle), and 8 refers to the Eighth day of our parsha.
The Midrash Rabba adds to this list:
Rabbi Azarya said Moshe supervised over the Bris Milah of the 7th generation (Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, Levi, Kehat, Amram, Moshe), while Yehoshua supervised the Bris Milah of the 8th generation as they entered the land of Canaan.
Rabbi Levi said there are seven days of sukkot, and eight is Shmini Atzeret.
Rabbenu Bachaye notes the Midrash Mishlei which pointed to a number of Mitzvot in the Torah themed around the number 7: Shabbos, Shmittah (7 years), and Yovel (7 cycles of Shmittah). There are 7 days of Pesach, 7 days of Sukkos. The 4 Species actually have 7 items (1 lulav, 1 esrog, 2 aravos, 3 hadasim), there are 7 days of mourning, and 7 days of rejoicing (after a wedding) – all of this alludes to the 7 days of Creation. The reason Aharon was not consecrated as the High Priest during the 7 days of Miluim is because his role is designated to serve the One and Only God. The eighth day, which is seven plus One, serves as a “one up” on the seven, as it focuses on looking back at the 7 through the prism of serving the One.
The Mishkan highlights the number 8: the number of the High Priest’s garments, the number of spices in the anointing oil (4) and k’tores (4) - combined, the number of poles (2 each for ark, table, small and large mizbeachs), an animal can’t be brought as an offering until it is eight days old, the number of instruments/styles of music the Levites used when they sang songs (based on Tehillim 90, 53, 9, 5, 45, 8, 6).
Kli Yakar illustrates how all Moshe’s glorification of God came under the rubric of the word “Az” (alef zayin) (See Shmot 5:23, 15:1). The alef (1) rides on the zayin (7), to indicate God’s kingship over the seven planets (interestingly, he mentions seven planets in the 1600s, when planet #7 – Uranus was discovered in 1781 by Sir William Herschel, and Neptune wasn’t discovered until 1846!), and over the world created in 7 days. Eight, therefore, is a reference to Godlike qualities that go beyond the base of creation and of this world. This explains why an animal is not fit to be a sacrificial offering until it is at least eight days old.
The key to understanding the significance of 7 and 8, however, rests in the verse in Kohelet. In his explanation of the teaching that 7 refers to the days of the week and 8 refers to Bris Milah, the Torah Temimah suggests that our goal during the 7 days is to be preparing for what’s coming. Every day we prepare for Shabbos. After the birth of a boy, we are preparing for his bris celebration.
Shabbos and Milah share a commonality – the merits of both saved the Jewish people in the time of Elijah the Prophet. And the need for preparation in general serves as a reminder that a person should never put off preparing for the future when the opportunity to prepare presents itself. Who knows? Maybe such a chance to prepare will never be available again. This is the meaning of the second half of the verse in Kohelet. We have no crystal ball. We do not know what the future will bring.
Indeed, all of the holidays (including Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, which are included in the Kohelet verse in the word “v’gam” – and also), are considered to be days of judgment. Perhaps the verse is teaching us, the Torah Temimah concludes, that those who observe the laws of the holidays, and of Shabbos and Bris Milah, are protected from evil, and certainly from any judgment for gehinnom.
In the end, the Eighth Day of our parsha serves as a model for what the best kind of connection to God is, and how to serve Him. We are to do our best to prepare for the eighth day, and we are to highlight the eighth day as the day that demonstrates His power on earth, and what it means to tap into the holiness that goes above and beyond the base of the seven days of Creation.
Friday, November 7, 2014
He Laughs, She Laughs
Parshat Vayera
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Avraham and Sarah are both given
the same information.
A child will be born when you
are 100 and 90, respectively.
He laughs in 17:17 and is told, “It’s
true! It is really going to happen.”
In 18:12, when Sarah is given
her version of the message, she too laughs, but is criticized. God asks, “Why
is this that Sarah is laughing…?” (18:13-14)
If they both have the same
response, why are the reactions to their responses so different? Avraham’s seems
to be supported by God, while Sarah’s response is rejected, requiring her to
even defend her natural reaction.
To strengthen the question, we
can further wonder why Avraham seems to bear the brunt of the critique against
Sarah? Rashi teaches us (21:12) that Sarah was greater in prophesy than
Avraham. Why then did God’s criticism of her reaction come through Avraham’s
prophesy and not hers, namely to her directly?
Rabbi Yehuda ben Eliezer, the 14th
century Riva, writes that there’s a simple explanation for the difference between Avraham and Sarah's laughter reactions and the news of having a baby in the near future.
Quoting Rav Elyakim, he notes that Avraham received the information directly
from God, and his laughter was therefore of the joyous type – completely
accepting God’s promise, while overcome with emotions that uncontrollably cause
laughter.
Sarah, on the other hand, heard
the promise indirectly, through an angel that dressed up as a wanderer, which
caused her to be skeptical.
The Or HaChaim takes a different
viewpoint, noting that Avraham laughed when he heard the news, while Sarah
laughed not on the hearing of the news, but only after her body began to show
signs that birthing was to be a real possibility. In other words, for Avraham,
the message was convincing enough. For Sarah, the message was not convincing
enough – it didn’t cause her to believe anything – only body changes could
convince her that something was going to happen.
Perhaps this is a knock on Sarah’s
faith. But in all honesty, I still find it unconvincing, in light of the
comments of the Riva with which we opened. It is not God who is speaking to
her. It is a stranger that her husband randomly stopped from his journey on the
road.
Which is why the Chizkuni’s take
on the matter is so significant. Chizkuni compares what happens here to a woman
who wants to criticize her daughter-in-law, but instead criticizes her own
daughter in front of the daughter-in-law, hoping the message will penetrate
without the insult.
God wanted to criticize Avraham
for his laughter, but instead God confronted Avraham (God did not confront
Sarah!) about Sarah’s laughter, hoping
Avraham would understand that his own laughter was inappropriate.
The fact that Sarah felt the
need to defend herself may indicate that Avraham indeed confronted her about her
laughter – which means he either “got” the message or he did not. If he did not
“get it,” then his critique is ever so much more disturbing – how can you ask
your wife about her laughter when you did the same thing?
But I think there’s a more
profound message that we can take from this story.
If the chronology of these
parshas is such that Avraham had his bris in chapter 17, and chapter 18 is his
healing period which followed that surgery, then he was certainly aware of the
promise of a child by the time the men/angels came to his door.
Why wasn’t Sarah? Her name is so
prominently featured in the context of Avraham having this child (see
17:16,19,21) one would think Avraham would have told her of the joy which would
come to their lives, of the promise that would clearly come true, as he had
been told this directly by God! Especially since she will play such a
significant role in its coming about.
And yet he did not. She hadn’t a
clue. She was completely unaware of any promise. Perhaps this is why when she
overheard through the tent, and her husband didn’t react, she also laughed,
perhaps thinking that Avraham is really in bad shape because he doesn’t see the
humor in this traveling man’s strange “promise.” Avraham, on the other hand,
did not react because he already knew.
It seems this translates to a
communication problem. We can view Sarah’s response however we want, but the
bottom line is that the messenger was so unconvincing, that she gets a pass on not accepting the promise as being true.
Avraham, on the other hand, is criticized for her laughter, a side-swipe at
himself for his own laughter, and also at him for not informing his wife of
this important change that will soon take place in their lives.
Spouses have to share the most
important things that develop in their lives. Avraham didn’t and bore double
responsibility – for his laughter, and for not communicating with his wife.
Friday, September 5, 2014
Getting Rid of the Evil Among Us
Parshat Ki Tetze
by Rabbi Avi Billet
From the one time in Re’eh to the three times in Shoftim to the five times in Ki Tetze, the Torah tells us nine times to eradicate evil – “Uvi’arta hara” – from either amongst you, or amongst all of Israel.
It would seem that in most of these cases, as well as others in our parsha, the Torah is advocating for a death penalty kind of punishment for those who are either guilty of a crime, or are in violation of a mitzvah.
Most people I know would have much less of a problem with capital punishment for truly evil people, such as murderers and terrorists. This is likely true in times of peace, but is even more true during times of war when the swift justice of war eradicates evil people.
But for sinners?
We are all sinners! Why would we advocate for these death penalty punishments, or any kind of corporal punishment, when the laws which trigger these punishments are so easily violated? I have seen Sharia law advocates explain that the law is meant to be a deterrent, and that the message of “they will hear and they will fear” will serve as the inspiration to create a moral society as we weed out the bad apples among us. Even if this works in theory, the lack of compassion, and the lack of a soul in the hands of the executor of "justice" is so anti the civil society we have accepted as tolerant and (acceptably) liberal.
The problem with applying the literal presentation of the Torah's laws in our parsha as "the way the Jewish society was" is that the court system always required witnesses and warnings. And if the warning was not issued in the proper fashion (let alone if it was not issued at all), or if there were no witnesses, or if the witnesses did not fit the necessary criteria or were somehow disqualified (such as if they were related to one another or to one of the claimants), the court case is more of a spectacle than an effective system of punishment. The corporal punishments the Torah describes are immediately thrown off the table.
Understanding to which crimes and sins specific punishments were appended requires a careful reading of Devarim chapters 17-24. But all of the cases in question come with Talmudic caveats. The rebellious son never existed. The betrothed daughter at that specific age was never unfaithful. Warnings. Witnesses. Etc.
How then is a just society created if the court system has its hands bound and can’t carry out the law?
Two elements come into play in a society living under God. Firstly, monetary cases are decided by the courts. Documents always had to have witnesses. Legal jargon may not have been what it is today, but the paperwork was there. And courts could decide between he said-he said cases, even in the absence of witnesses.
The other element is God’s role. The God fearing individual reads the Torah, understands the gravity of the worst sins described in the Torah, and makes a conscious choice not to violate, and to otherwise live a holy existence, to the best of one’s ability.
Otherwise, between the punishment known as “kares” (which has many possible manifestations) and “misah bidei shamayim” (death at the hands of heaven), the courts would put certain punishments in the hands of Heaven. Imagine the otherwise guilty party (minus the necessary proof to actually convict) walking out of court with the judges saying, “Good luck because you’re going to need it. God is going to get you.”
What will it take? A car accident? A slip and fall? A heart attack? Or, in those days, perhaps getting gored by an animal running amok? Precisely.
I am not suggesting that the victims of tragedies like these in our day are being punished for indiscretions. Even if they were guilty of certain sins (after all, aren’t we all?), in most cases it was private, and it was certainly never adjudicated in court. More likely they were not even remotely guilty of the sins of the magnitude described in our parsha. How then do we explain why tragedy struck?
We can’t. And those who think they know the answers are fools and should be shunned. Sometimes we don’t know and can’t understand the ways of God. Saying things like “it was his time” and “God wanted it this way” are the wrong things to say to people who are filled with questions.
Two final points. I read an opinion piece in Haaretz this week that suggested that as we have evolved from the punishments described in the Torah and no longer practice “an eye for an eye” and capital punishment, we should also consider getting rid of Bris Milah, as the author suggested, “Ritual circumcision is the only act of physical harm that remains.”
The author’s misunderstanding of the corporal and capital punishments aside (most of which were either monetary compensation to victims or impossible-to-enforce capital punishment), he completely misunderstands what Bris Milah is all about. The Covenant is not viewed as a punishment. It is a gift from God. The act of circumcision is an act of faith that has been adequately addressed by Rabbi Akiva almost two thousand years ago. (Midrash Tanchuma Tazria 7)
Finally, we are to understand that as much as society “evolves” the Torah’s truths remain. The punishments described for the heinous crimes and sins are meant to illustrate just how badly these specific violations tear apart the fabric of our Torah-guided society.
Our goal is to weed out sinners. And we do that through educating sinners not to sin. May we all become experts in Torah knowledge so we can not only continue to enhance our wonderful society, but be a light to the world for how to treat our fellow man.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
From the one time in Re’eh to the three times in Shoftim to the five times in Ki Tetze, the Torah tells us nine times to eradicate evil – “Uvi’arta hara” – from either amongst you, or amongst all of Israel.
It would seem that in most of these cases, as well as others in our parsha, the Torah is advocating for a death penalty kind of punishment for those who are either guilty of a crime, or are in violation of a mitzvah.
Most people I know would have much less of a problem with capital punishment for truly evil people, such as murderers and terrorists. This is likely true in times of peace, but is even more true during times of war when the swift justice of war eradicates evil people.
But for sinners?
We are all sinners! Why would we advocate for these death penalty punishments, or any kind of corporal punishment, when the laws which trigger these punishments are so easily violated? I have seen Sharia law advocates explain that the law is meant to be a deterrent, and that the message of “they will hear and they will fear” will serve as the inspiration to create a moral society as we weed out the bad apples among us. Even if this works in theory, the lack of compassion, and the lack of a soul in the hands of the executor of "justice" is so anti the civil society we have accepted as tolerant and (acceptably) liberal.
The problem with applying the literal presentation of the Torah's laws in our parsha as "the way the Jewish society was" is that the court system always required witnesses and warnings. And if the warning was not issued in the proper fashion (let alone if it was not issued at all), or if there were no witnesses, or if the witnesses did not fit the necessary criteria or were somehow disqualified (such as if they were related to one another or to one of the claimants), the court case is more of a spectacle than an effective system of punishment. The corporal punishments the Torah describes are immediately thrown off the table.
Understanding to which crimes and sins specific punishments were appended requires a careful reading of Devarim chapters 17-24. But all of the cases in question come with Talmudic caveats. The rebellious son never existed. The betrothed daughter at that specific age was never unfaithful. Warnings. Witnesses. Etc.
How then is a just society created if the court system has its hands bound and can’t carry out the law?
Two elements come into play in a society living under God. Firstly, monetary cases are decided by the courts. Documents always had to have witnesses. Legal jargon may not have been what it is today, but the paperwork was there. And courts could decide between he said-he said cases, even in the absence of witnesses.
The other element is God’s role. The God fearing individual reads the Torah, understands the gravity of the worst sins described in the Torah, and makes a conscious choice not to violate, and to otherwise live a holy existence, to the best of one’s ability.
Otherwise, between the punishment known as “kares” (which has many possible manifestations) and “misah bidei shamayim” (death at the hands of heaven), the courts would put certain punishments in the hands of Heaven. Imagine the otherwise guilty party (minus the necessary proof to actually convict) walking out of court with the judges saying, “Good luck because you’re going to need it. God is going to get you.”
What will it take? A car accident? A slip and fall? A heart attack? Or, in those days, perhaps getting gored by an animal running amok? Precisely.
I am not suggesting that the victims of tragedies like these in our day are being punished for indiscretions. Even if they were guilty of certain sins (after all, aren’t we all?), in most cases it was private, and it was certainly never adjudicated in court. More likely they were not even remotely guilty of the sins of the magnitude described in our parsha. How then do we explain why tragedy struck?
We can’t. And those who think they know the answers are fools and should be shunned. Sometimes we don’t know and can’t understand the ways of God. Saying things like “it was his time” and “God wanted it this way” are the wrong things to say to people who are filled with questions.
Two final points. I read an opinion piece in Haaretz this week that suggested that as we have evolved from the punishments described in the Torah and no longer practice “an eye for an eye” and capital punishment, we should also consider getting rid of Bris Milah, as the author suggested, “Ritual circumcision is the only act of physical harm that remains.”
The author’s misunderstanding of the corporal and capital punishments aside (most of which were either monetary compensation to victims or impossible-to-enforce capital punishment), he completely misunderstands what Bris Milah is all about. The Covenant is not viewed as a punishment. It is a gift from God. The act of circumcision is an act of faith that has been adequately addressed by Rabbi Akiva almost two thousand years ago. (Midrash Tanchuma Tazria 7)
Finally, we are to understand that as much as society “evolves” the Torah’s truths remain. The punishments described for the heinous crimes and sins are meant to illustrate just how badly these specific violations tear apart the fabric of our Torah-guided society.
Our goal is to weed out sinners. And we do that through educating sinners not to sin. May we all become experts in Torah knowledge so we can not only continue to enhance our wonderful society, but be a light to the world for how to treat our fellow man.
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bris,
Capital punishment,
corporal punishment,
death,
death penalty,
Ki Tetze,
sinners,
sinnings,
sins
Friday, June 28, 2013
Logic Would Seem to Dictate
Parshat Pinchas
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Outside of Bible adherents' responses, were the story of Pinchas and Zimri presented or played out in our world, it wouldn’t be Pinchas who is heralded and Zimri who is thrown under the bus for being an arrogant and abrasive antagonist.
The story is pretty simple. Zimri, a leader of the tribe of Shimon, consorts with a Midianite woman in public. According to the Talmud (Sanhedrin82), he mocked Moshe – if a Midianite (Zipporah) was permissible to Moshe, why was a Midianite prohibited to Zimri?
Pinchas, sensing the rebellious nature of Zimri's act, as well as his mocking tone, recalled a law that declared Zimri deserved the death penalty. And, in that particular circumstance, when he took the law into his own hands, he was praised for it. (See Rabbenu Bachaye 25:6-7) He was even granted a reward of the "The Covenant of Peace."
In most circumstances, we do not tolerate taking the law into one's own hands, which is why beyond Pinchas' example, there will be no endorsement of vigilantism here.
But one wonders how our enlightened society would look at this case.
Our society would look at Zimri and say perhaps he is a little boastful and bold, but he is an adult, is entitled to make his own decisions. Furthermore, the woman in question was a consenting adult, making their act nothing which could be construed as illegal. Furthermore, if Zimri was not married, then he was hurting no one. He has every right, our liberal provocateur will note, to marry or consort with any consenting woman he wants, of any religion.
Pinchas, on the other hand, has no excuse for his actions. Who does he think he is? He is a murderer! Just because he doesn't like someone's behavior does not justify killing the person!
These are all very logical arguments. And the truth is, in some cases, logic is a good sell.
Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik noted, however, that Judaism is not always governed by logic. Korach, for example, tried to figuratively skewer Moshe in his position as leader and teacher through very logical arguments against some of the commandments of the Torah. But logic doesn't explain the mitzvah of techeilet, or the mitzvah of Mezuzah.
And, frankly, it doesn't explain the mitzvah of Bris Milah. If Pinchas was awarded the Covenant of Peace, some continue to refer to him as one of the "guardians" of Bris Milah – THE Covenant.
This week, my website and Facebook page were attacked by "Intactivists." These people are very vocal advocates against circumcision of infants, using many arguments such as barbarism, mutilation, nonconsensual, defenseless baby, etc.
Logically, they are right. Circumcision, it can be argued, is an unnecessary medical procedure performed on people who, with uncommon exception, do not need it.
But where they fail in their attack is that they don't understand that for us, this is not about a medical procedure. And we don't view it as barbaric. As Avraham was told, "Walk before me and become complete" through the act of circumcision, the mark of the covenant is placed in our flesh and in the flesh of our children to complement our relationship with God.
I have met many happy and calm parents before brisses. I have also met my share of nervous parents before brisses. Most of these latter parents just want it to be over with. All parents want it to go well and for their baby to be fine. And when this outcome is achieved, the nervous tension goes away.
But even such "hesitations" do not drive us away from performing Bris Milah. We are who we are partially because of Bris Milah (Talmud Shabbat 130a). Our attitude has always been, upon the birth of a boy, "We need to arrange for the bris."
These personal experiences have been the opening to many conversations over the course of this week, and every Jewish person with whom I've had this discussion has said the same thing. "Different worlds. They don't understand us. They never will."
Many of us want to rationally understand everything we do. Some of the things we do defy logic and rational thinking, because they are matters of faith.
Zimri's flaw, and why the Torah does not side with him, rested in his belief that his brilliant logic should trump all else. But Zimri ignored important principles of the Torah, and may have even not understood the things he violated in the first place.
But sometimes commitment to and observance of the Torah defies logic. Do we remain steadfast and committed? Or do we throw the baby out with the bathwater? For the committed Jew, the answer is obvious. Logic alone is not what we are all about.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Outside of Bible adherents' responses, were the story of Pinchas and Zimri presented or played out in our world, it wouldn’t be Pinchas who is heralded and Zimri who is thrown under the bus for being an arrogant and abrasive antagonist.
The story is pretty simple. Zimri, a leader of the tribe of Shimon, consorts with a Midianite woman in public. According to the Talmud (Sanhedrin82), he mocked Moshe – if a Midianite (Zipporah) was permissible to Moshe, why was a Midianite prohibited to Zimri?
Pinchas, sensing the rebellious nature of Zimri's act, as well as his mocking tone, recalled a law that declared Zimri deserved the death penalty. And, in that particular circumstance, when he took the law into his own hands, he was praised for it. (See Rabbenu Bachaye 25:6-7) He was even granted a reward of the "The Covenant of Peace."
In most circumstances, we do not tolerate taking the law into one's own hands, which is why beyond Pinchas' example, there will be no endorsement of vigilantism here.
But one wonders how our enlightened society would look at this case.
Our society would look at Zimri and say perhaps he is a little boastful and bold, but he is an adult, is entitled to make his own decisions. Furthermore, the woman in question was a consenting adult, making their act nothing which could be construed as illegal. Furthermore, if Zimri was not married, then he was hurting no one. He has every right, our liberal provocateur will note, to marry or consort with any consenting woman he wants, of any religion.
Pinchas, on the other hand, has no excuse for his actions. Who does he think he is? He is a murderer! Just because he doesn't like someone's behavior does not justify killing the person!
These are all very logical arguments. And the truth is, in some cases, logic is a good sell.
Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik noted, however, that Judaism is not always governed by logic. Korach, for example, tried to figuratively skewer Moshe in his position as leader and teacher through very logical arguments against some of the commandments of the Torah. But logic doesn't explain the mitzvah of techeilet, or the mitzvah of Mezuzah.
And, frankly, it doesn't explain the mitzvah of Bris Milah. If Pinchas was awarded the Covenant of Peace, some continue to refer to him as one of the "guardians" of Bris Milah – THE Covenant.
This week, my website and Facebook page were attacked by "Intactivists." These people are very vocal advocates against circumcision of infants, using many arguments such as barbarism, mutilation, nonconsensual, defenseless baby, etc.
Logically, they are right. Circumcision, it can be argued, is an unnecessary medical procedure performed on people who, with uncommon exception, do not need it.
But where they fail in their attack is that they don't understand that for us, this is not about a medical procedure. And we don't view it as barbaric. As Avraham was told, "Walk before me and become complete" through the act of circumcision, the mark of the covenant is placed in our flesh and in the flesh of our children to complement our relationship with God.
I have met many happy and calm parents before brisses. I have also met my share of nervous parents before brisses. Most of these latter parents just want it to be over with. All parents want it to go well and for their baby to be fine. And when this outcome is achieved, the nervous tension goes away.
But even such "hesitations" do not drive us away from performing Bris Milah. We are who we are partially because of Bris Milah (Talmud Shabbat 130a). Our attitude has always been, upon the birth of a boy, "We need to arrange for the bris."
These personal experiences have been the opening to many conversations over the course of this week, and every Jewish person with whom I've had this discussion has said the same thing. "Different worlds. They don't understand us. They never will."
Many of us want to rationally understand everything we do. Some of the things we do defy logic and rational thinking, because they are matters of faith.
Zimri's flaw, and why the Torah does not side with him, rested in his belief that his brilliant logic should trump all else. But Zimri ignored important principles of the Torah, and may have even not understood the things he violated in the first place.
But sometimes commitment to and observance of the Torah defies logic. Do we remain steadfast and committed? Or do we throw the baby out with the bathwater? For the committed Jew, the answer is obvious. Logic alone is not what we are all about.
Labels:
bris,
logic,
observance,
Pinchas,
Zimri
Friday, October 26, 2012
The Covenant of Circumcision
Lekh Lekha
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Over the last seven months,
circumcision has appeared as a regular conversation topic in media outlets. Between
metzitzah discussions, European nations becoming enlightened about circumcision
and banning it (historians note that all that has changed in Europe is that
European anti-Semitism now comes in the guise of liberalism – to save the
babies!), and the pro v anti circumcision debate which continues to rage on in
the blogosphere, there is no shortage of topics to be covered.
Reading Parshat Lekh Lekha this week,
the parsha in which the Covenant of Circumcision is first presented in the
Torah, it is a good time to reflect on what Bris Milah is and why we are so
attached to it.
Dr. Jon Levenson, professor of
Jewish studies at Harvard University ,
noted a (not) surprising phenomenon in his article, "The New Enemies of
Circumcision,” in Commentary Magazine, March 2000.
“…circumcision, itself a divine commandment (mitzvah), is emblematic of the Jews' fidelity to the God who formed them as a people and gave them the Torah."It is hardly surprising, therefore, that even in modern times, Jews across the denominational spectrum have continued to have the procedure performed on their sons on the eighth day of life, just as the Torah prescribes. What may be more surprising is the durability of circumcision among those Jews for whom traditional theology is unacceptable. All sorts of other practices bearing the warrant of tradition--Sabbath, dietary laws, daily prayer--have fallen by the wayside, but circumcision, [ ] britmilah [ ], endures."
Levinson went on to discuss different opinions as to the
prophylactic effects of circumcision, noting that they are irrelevant to the
Jew who will be circumcising regardless of medical opinion. This notion was
adequately noted by Herman Wouk in his "This is My God" where he wrote,
“[F]or Jews circumcision … is not a detail of hygiene, [but] the seal of the
pledge between Abraham and his Creator… The Jews have followed the Mosaic law
with a confidence which modern medicine progressively ratifies. The medical endorsement is not, however, the
glory of Judaism. It is a
footnote."
In many Jewish circles, the question of circumcision is not
a Hamletian question of "to circ or not to circ," but is merely a
question of when and where. This is something the non-Jewish or the
non-circumcising world, who view circumcision as barbaric, will never
understand. Circumcision is a practice that has defined our people for
thousands of years. We have done it openly, in secret, enjoying the support of
local government or in defiance of laws against it. The practice has survived
hatred, bigotry, persecution, and genocide for many reasons including those
discussed in Talmud Nedarim 31b-32a (see also Shabbat 130a). It is the fulfillment of our side of the
agreement of Bereshit 17, in hopes of the continued fulfillment of the promises
God made to Avraham.
Many people who are
anti-circumcision like to quote a passage of Maimonides from "The Guide to
the Perplexed" [3.49 (118a), 609] in which Maimonides expressed how circumcision
decreases physical sensitivity. But their quotation of Maimonides is always incomplete, and therefore intellectually dishonest.
In the part they
don't quote, Maimonides outlines why we circumcise. Avraham was the first to
recognize the power of the male "drive" and the need to have other
pursuits in life [see Hilchot De'ot 3:2]. More importantly, in his day
(certainly before any notion of routine circumcision that exists in the United
States today), circumcision gave our people
a common physical sign of our peoplehood, along with the faith that this is
what God has asked of us. (Levenson addresses the fact that women do not bear a
sign of the covenant - which most women I have spoken with are "just fine with that.")
The covenant forged
with Avraham, in which God agreed "to be a God for you and for your
children after you" [as described in Bereshit 17] is the source for
declaring God's oneness.
Maimonides states unequivocally that the Torah cannot be
properly fulfilled without circumcision. He shares three points of wisdom in the
process of circumcising at this age: 1. Were we to leave it for the child to do
when he grows older, there's a great chance that he wouldn't do it. 2. The
long-term pain experienced by an older person, who will add emotional stress to
the ordeal, does not compare to the when-it's-over-it's-done experience of a
newborn 3. Submitting a newborn to circumcision is much easier than an older
child, for whom our love only grows over time, who experiences pain differently
and who might remember it.
These days, even many
Muslims have switched from the older practice of circumcising at 13 or a
younger age of childhood, opting for the newborn period, which is far less
traumatic and entirely forgettable.
Small groups of Jews claim "choosing not to circ is
the more Jewish thing to do." Discounting the Torah is hardly "more
Jewish," but those who don't "get it" will try to use any
argument they can to pursue their agenda.
For us, our covenant with God is what will keep this
mitzvah alive. May we merit to bring many more babies into the Covenant (though
only boys bare the physical mark) as the Jewish people continue to grow in
anticipation of the final Redemption.
Labels:
anti-circumcision,
Avraham,
bris,
bris milah,
cirucmcision
Thursday, January 26, 2012
A Sign For YOU
Parshat Bo
by Rabbi Avi Billet
When one reads through Shmot Chapter 12, it becomes quite clear that blood will play a significant role in bringing about the salvation of the Hebrew slaves at the midnight hour when Egypt will be struck its most devastating blow.
Verses 7, 13, 22 and 23, when run together, read something like this.
"They must take the blood and place it on the two doorposts and on the beam above the door of the houses in which they will eat [the sacrifice]. The blood will be a sign for you on the houses where you are staying. I will see the blood and pass you by (pasach). There will not be any deadly plague among you when I strike Egypt. {Instructions to the elders are to tell the people to] 'Take a bunch of hyssop and dip it into the blood that [will be placed] in a basin. Touch the beam over the door and the two doorposts with some of the blood in the basin. Not a single one of you may go out the door of his house until morning. God will then pass through to strike Egypt. When he sees the blood over the door and on the two doorposts, God will pass over that door, and not let the force of destruction enter your houses to strike.'"
The Ktav V'Hakabalah asks a seemingly obvious question. Does God really need the blood as a sign? If He wants to distinguish between the Egyptians who suffer in the plague and the Israelites who are spared, could He not just say "My wonders will be proven by the fact that Egyptians will die and Israelites will not"?
Ibn Ezra rejects the notion that the blood was a derivative of a public process aimed at showing the Egyptians who is boss. Were it so, he argues, the blood would have been put on courtyard gates instead of on the doorway of homes recessed from the street, and the slaughtering of the lamb would have taken place in the daytime, instead of closer to nighttime when people are already in their homes. Ibn Ezra even derives from "The blood will be a sign for you" that you, who cannot go outside all night, will be able to see the blood because it will be on the inside of your home.
But the Ktav V'Hakabalah has an entirely different perspective, which introduces much deeper symbolism than a mere "sticking-it" to the Egyptians. The Israelites had many obstacles to their own redemption. They were idolators! They needed to achieve a spiritual purity (taharah) that had eluded them for a very long time.
The Korban Pesach (Paschal offering) was meant to serve as a first step in their stepping away from and rejection of Egyptian idolatry of the sheep. The second element of their return to God was a complete rejection of their former fears of their Egyptian masters. And the last element of their return to God was the public nature of their actions.
He brings four examples of the how they publicized the deed: First, the animals were led through the street, before the slaughtering was done publicly (#2), while the gathering of families providing the third ingredient in drawing attention. The nail in the coffin, so to speak, was placing the blood on the doorpost for all to see.
Didn't the Ibn Ezra say the blood was placed inside the home, as a sign for the Israelites alone? He did. But the Ktav V'Hakabalah is one step ahead when he quotes the Mechilta who says the blood was placed on the outside. This public display of the blood of the lamb was another step in the rejection of the sheep-as-god mentality.
All this is very nice insofar as the process through which the people go. But it does not answer whether God needed a sign! The answer is that of course God did not need a sign. If God could distinguish between which animals were Egyptian-owned and which animals were Israelite-owned, He could surely distinguish between Egyptians and Israelites.
The reason for the blood, then, is that it is through blood that covenants are forged. A blood oath involves the mixing of bloods, "The process usually provides a participant with a heightened symbolic sense of attachment with another participant." (Wikipedia, "Blood Brother")
The Shakh claims that as males who are not circumcised may not participate in the eating of the korban pesach, a major circumcision festival needed to take place (based on 12:50). As such there were ample samples of blood available to be mixed together – blood from the lamb, from the circumcisions, and from the removal of the mucosal membrane (not from metzitzah!)
The blood, therefore, becomes highly symbolic. Putting it on the door is an indicator that those in the home fulfill the will of God. But the placement of this particular mixture of blood, stands to serve as a "reminder," so to speak, to God, of the mark of the covenant that connects this people to Him for eternity. This reminder is what prevents the death force from making its way into the homes of the Israelites.
In this respect, the sign-on-the-door for humans is significant for them because their own blood is in it. But it really is for God, who reminds the people over and over that each plague was meant to make His name well known in the land. This goal is further represented by the blood on the door, a mark which is fresh, which will last long beyond when the Israelite's leave town, and will be seen by those who explore the ghost town of Goshen.
It is the symbol of God's dominance over the Egyptian deity, combined with the covenant He forged with Abraham, that brought about the creation of the nation that left Egypt with a strong hand.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
When one reads through Shmot Chapter 12, it becomes quite clear that blood will play a significant role in bringing about the salvation of the Hebrew slaves at the midnight hour when Egypt will be struck its most devastating blow.
Verses 7, 13, 22 and 23, when run together, read something like this.
"They must take the blood and place it on the two doorposts and on the beam above the door of the houses in which they will eat [the sacrifice]. The blood will be a sign for you on the houses where you are staying. I will see the blood and pass you by (pasach). There will not be any deadly plague among you when I strike Egypt. {Instructions to the elders are to tell the people to] 'Take a bunch of hyssop and dip it into the blood that [will be placed] in a basin. Touch the beam over the door and the two doorposts with some of the blood in the basin. Not a single one of you may go out the door of his house until morning. God will then pass through to strike Egypt. When he sees the blood over the door and on the two doorposts, God will pass over that door, and not let the force of destruction enter your houses to strike.'"
The Ktav V'Hakabalah asks a seemingly obvious question. Does God really need the blood as a sign? If He wants to distinguish between the Egyptians who suffer in the plague and the Israelites who are spared, could He not just say "My wonders will be proven by the fact that Egyptians will die and Israelites will not"?
Ibn Ezra rejects the notion that the blood was a derivative of a public process aimed at showing the Egyptians who is boss. Were it so, he argues, the blood would have been put on courtyard gates instead of on the doorway of homes recessed from the street, and the slaughtering of the lamb would have taken place in the daytime, instead of closer to nighttime when people are already in their homes. Ibn Ezra even derives from "The blood will be a sign for you" that you, who cannot go outside all night, will be able to see the blood because it will be on the inside of your home.
But the Ktav V'Hakabalah has an entirely different perspective, which introduces much deeper symbolism than a mere "sticking-it" to the Egyptians. The Israelites had many obstacles to their own redemption. They were idolators! They needed to achieve a spiritual purity (taharah) that had eluded them for a very long time.
The Korban Pesach (Paschal offering) was meant to serve as a first step in their stepping away from and rejection of Egyptian idolatry of the sheep. The second element of their return to God was a complete rejection of their former fears of their Egyptian masters. And the last element of their return to God was the public nature of their actions.
He brings four examples of the how they publicized the deed: First, the animals were led through the street, before the slaughtering was done publicly (#2), while the gathering of families providing the third ingredient in drawing attention. The nail in the coffin, so to speak, was placing the blood on the doorpost for all to see.
Didn't the Ibn Ezra say the blood was placed inside the home, as a sign for the Israelites alone? He did. But the Ktav V'Hakabalah is one step ahead when he quotes the Mechilta who says the blood was placed on the outside. This public display of the blood of the lamb was another step in the rejection of the sheep-as-god mentality.
All this is very nice insofar as the process through which the people go. But it does not answer whether God needed a sign! The answer is that of course God did not need a sign. If God could distinguish between which animals were Egyptian-owned and which animals were Israelite-owned, He could surely distinguish between Egyptians and Israelites.
The reason for the blood, then, is that it is through blood that covenants are forged. A blood oath involves the mixing of bloods, "The process usually provides a participant with a heightened symbolic sense of attachment with another participant." (Wikipedia, "Blood Brother")
The Shakh claims that as males who are not circumcised may not participate in the eating of the korban pesach, a major circumcision festival needed to take place (based on 12:50). As such there were ample samples of blood available to be mixed together – blood from the lamb, from the circumcisions, and from the removal of the mucosal membrane (not from metzitzah!)
The blood, therefore, becomes highly symbolic. Putting it on the door is an indicator that those in the home fulfill the will of God. But the placement of this particular mixture of blood, stands to serve as a "reminder," so to speak, to God, of the mark of the covenant that connects this people to Him for eternity. This reminder is what prevents the death force from making its way into the homes of the Israelites.
In this respect, the sign-on-the-door for humans is significant for them because their own blood is in it. But it really is for God, who reminds the people over and over that each plague was meant to make His name well known in the land. This goal is further represented by the blood on the door, a mark which is fresh, which will last long beyond when the Israelite's leave town, and will be seen by those who explore the ghost town of Goshen.
It is the symbol of God's dominance over the Egyptian deity, combined with the covenant He forged with Abraham, that brought about the creation of the nation that left Egypt with a strong hand.
Labels:
blood,
bo,
bris,
korban pesach,
signs,
uncircumcised
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Another Reason For 8 Days of Chanukah?
For an expanded version on this subject, built on the idea of the following, see here
One of the questions that comes up each year is "If there was enough oil to last 1 day, and it lasted 8 days, the miracle was really for 7 days. The first day was not a miracle. So why do we have EIGHT DAYS of Chanukah?"
There are many answers to this question. Most of the answers aim to answer the related question of "How do we view the first day as a miracle as well?" Answers to a different related question would also suffice: "Is there a significance to the number eight that fits into this story?"
Two of the more known answers to the latter question are:
1. The rededication of the Temple was meant to emulate the original dedication of the Tabernacle in the wilderness, which was an Eight-Day-Celebration.
2. On account of the war, the Maccabees were unable to adequately celebrate the holiday of Sukkot. As such, upon the rededication of the Temple, they created a make-up for the holiday they missed. Since Biblically speaking the holiday of Sukkot + Shmini Atzeret is an eight-day period, this served as the model for the Chanukah time span.
Here I offer another possibility. I do not base this in any historical document or anything I found. But a unique connection came to me as I reviewed the decrees that traditionally accepted view of history offers as the background to the rebellion of the few against the many.
The Greeks aimed to destroy three fundamental tenets of Jewish life:
1. Shabbos
2. Rosh Chodesh
3. Bris Milah
Being a mohel, this simple (yet, I feel, profound) connection was staring me straight in the face.
There are all kinds of reasons suggested for why a bris takes place on the eighth day of life. One of them focuses on the idea that the baby will certainly experience a shabbos before he has his bris.
Chanukah goes for eight days, therefore, to remind us the eight-day period that leads up to a bris.
An Eight-day holiday will certainly contain a shabbos.
The fact that Chanukah begins towards the end of Kislev, on the 25th of the month, assures that Rosh Chodesh Tevet will always be observed during Chanukah.
Military celebrations alone are typically celebrated for one day. Think V-E Day (May 8) V-J Day (Sept 2), Purim (14 Adar). By all rights, Chanukah should have been a 1-day holiday.
But Chanukah is meant to be more than just a tribute to a specific date. It is a highly symbolic holiday that represents a victory over assimilation, a commitment to Jewish tradition, mitzvot, and heritage, a reemergence of a "fighting Jew," and the return of Jewish autonomy to our ancient homeland.
And if, in the background, the dates and length of the celebration can serve as a reminder to what we overcame from the perspective of those who made decrees threatening our way of life - what could be wrong with it? It gives us a constant reminder of the test that challenged our people, and the lifestyle the victorious Maccabess sought to preserve.
One of the questions that comes up each year is "If there was enough oil to last 1 day, and it lasted 8 days, the miracle was really for 7 days. The first day was not a miracle. So why do we have EIGHT DAYS of Chanukah?"
There are many answers to this question. Most of the answers aim to answer the related question of "How do we view the first day as a miracle as well?" Answers to a different related question would also suffice: "Is there a significance to the number eight that fits into this story?"
Two of the more known answers to the latter question are:
1. The rededication of the Temple was meant to emulate the original dedication of the Tabernacle in the wilderness, which was an Eight-Day-Celebration.
2. On account of the war, the Maccabees were unable to adequately celebrate the holiday of Sukkot. As such, upon the rededication of the Temple, they created a make-up for the holiday they missed. Since Biblically speaking the holiday of Sukkot + Shmini Atzeret is an eight-day period, this served as the model for the Chanukah time span.
Here I offer another possibility. I do not base this in any historical document or anything I found. But a unique connection came to me as I reviewed the decrees that traditionally accepted view of history offers as the background to the rebellion of the few against the many.
The Greeks aimed to destroy three fundamental tenets of Jewish life:
1. Shabbos
2. Rosh Chodesh
3. Bris Milah
Being a mohel, this simple (yet, I feel, profound) connection was staring me straight in the face.
There are all kinds of reasons suggested for why a bris takes place on the eighth day of life. One of them focuses on the idea that the baby will certainly experience a shabbos before he has his bris.
Chanukah goes for eight days, therefore, to remind us the eight-day period that leads up to a bris.
An Eight-day holiday will certainly contain a shabbos.
The fact that Chanukah begins towards the end of Kislev, on the 25th of the month, assures that Rosh Chodesh Tevet will always be observed during Chanukah.
Military celebrations alone are typically celebrated for one day. Think V-E Day (May 8) V-J Day (Sept 2), Purim (14 Adar). By all rights, Chanukah should have been a 1-day holiday.
But Chanukah is meant to be more than just a tribute to a specific date. It is a highly symbolic holiday that represents a victory over assimilation, a commitment to Jewish tradition, mitzvot, and heritage, a reemergence of a "fighting Jew," and the return of Jewish autonomy to our ancient homeland.
And if, in the background, the dates and length of the celebration can serve as a reminder to what we overcame from the perspective of those who made decrees threatening our way of life - what could be wrong with it? It gives us a constant reminder of the test that challenged our people, and the lifestyle the victorious Maccabess sought to preserve.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
When to Name a Jewish Child
I dedicate this week's dvar torah to the memory of a friend, Jason Botnick, (see here), who tragically passed away this past weekend (In November 2011) after losing his battle with Leukemia.
Parshat Vayetze
by Rabbi Avi Billet
The Torah never addresses when a newborn is to be named; just about every Biblical figure who is introduced at birth is named right away. This would not come as much of a shock in a pre-Avraham and pre-Bris era. But the fact that Yitzchak, Yaakov, Eisav, and all of Yaakov's sons (chapters 29-30) (perhaps with the exception of Binyamin's second name in 35:18) are named the moment they are born (or so it seems) stands to leave open the idea that in Biblical times, boys were named before the bris.
In a pre-Sinai world, certainly girls were not named when the new father received an aliyah to the Torah – Dinah, for example, seems to be named at her birth.
Why do we name our children when we do: the boy at the bris, and the girl at a Torah reading? Is there significance to the public display of naming a baby?
Avram received his new name after his bris, yet Yitzchak received his name the minute he was born, if not before he was born. Yitzchak's circumstance can be taken off the table, however, because his name was given to him by God, before he was even conceived. But Yitzchak's sons and Yaakov's sons are still an argument pro pre-bris naming.
Yossele Weisberg z"l, one of the most prominent mohels in Jerusalem until his passing around 10 years ago, dedicated a chapter of his magnum opus on the laws and practices of the Bris Milah experience, "Otzar Habris," to the customs surrounding when we name both boys and girls.
He records 4 reasons for why a boy is named at his bris:
- At the time we are involved in blessing the child (ie. we say a "mi sheberach" after the bris), it is appropriate to refer to him by name. This would imply that the bris is the latest we can name a boy.
- Until his bris, he carries the name of an "arel" ערל (uncircumcised), which must be changed to a proper Jewish name as soon as possible after his circumcision.
- When we give the name with the formula of "Kayem" קיים את הילד הזה לאביו ולאמו ויקרא שמו בישראל... (establish this baby to his mother and father with the following Jewish name…), we are asking for the name to carry with it "God's approval," which would surely be most forthcoming once the child is circumcised.
- Once he is circumcised, and has arrived at his personal physical "completion" (shlemut), it is the right time for him to be given his name.
When it comes to naming girls, Yossele Weisberg records 6 different customs as to when it could be done: 1. the day she is born, 2. on the first Torah-reading day closest to her birth, 3. the Shabbos immediately after her birth, 4. to wait at least five days from her birth (unless her 3rd or 4th day is Shabbos), 5. on the 2nd Shabbos of her life, 6. 30 days after her birth.
Rabbi Shabtai Lipschitz of Orsziwa (Galicia ) wrote a book called Bris Avos, in which he explains this last custom (waiting a month) based on a known connection women have to the moon and Rosh Chodesh. Just as the moon has a monthly cycle, women have a monthly cycle. The Rosh Chodesh connection is deeper, but no one suggests she be named specifically on Rosh Chodesh.
Rabbi Lipschitz's final point is that just as the father provides the name of his son to the one who announces it at the bris, he should verbally say his daughter's name to whomever (Rabbi, gabbai, chazzan, etc) will be announcing it along with a "Mi Sheberach."
There might be room to suggest Yaakov's sons were named after they were circumcised, but in the end, it does not matter whether they were or were not. Giving a name to a child is a significant event in and of itself. So significant, in fact, that Rabbi Jacob Emden declared "it is a mitzvah to rejoice and have a celebratory meal at the time one names his newborn daughter."
It would seem, therefore, that the naming of a boy at his bris, and a girl on a Torah reading day, particularly on Shabbos, would become a matter of convenience. The significance of the naming itself is a cause for celebration – so our tacking it onto a party we're making in honor of a bris, or in honor of Shabbos (or even any Torah-reading day) makes sense from a practical point of view – have one major expense at a time we'd be celebrating anyway.
May our children grow to fulfill our dreams and wishes for them, no matter when they are named. And may we merit to help them realize their potential in the best possible way.
ps. In the event that a baby's bris is delayed for a significant period of time on account of health concerns, most authorities recommend naming the child (some say to name him even before his eighth day - when his bris might have otherwise taken place) so prayers can be offered on his behalf in the proper fashion: utilizing his Jewish name.
ps. In the event that a baby's bris is delayed for a significant period of time on account of health concerns, most authorities recommend naming the child (some say to name him even before his eighth day - when his bris might have otherwise taken place) so prayers can be offered on his behalf in the proper fashion: utilizing his Jewish name.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Are Women Not Part of the Covenant of the Bris?
I wrote this for my mohel blog, but thought it was worthy to be repeated here.
I am a "Florence Melton Adult Mini School " instructor, and this week my assignment was to teach the class in "Rhythms" entitled "Birth and Berit." Sounds easy enough – doesn't seem like I need to prepare all that much.
[The Melton curriculum is officially "pluralistic." While I will engage all Jews where they are in their Jewish journey, I don't consider myself pluralistic in my approach to Judaism. With this in mind, let us continue…]
The class as formatted explains what the Covenant (Bris) of Circumcision (Milah) is, offers some rabbinic suggestions as to its purpose and why the mark of the covenant is placed on the particular part of the anatomy where it is.
It even asks important sociological questions that pertain to a society in which Jews and non-Jews are routinely circumcised, which would negate the "only Jews" element of circumcision, as well as a concern that non-traditional Jews continue to go through with the procedure on account of a connection based on conformity, as opposed to a religious or traditional conviction. Compelling conversation starters.
All this is fine with me.
But the part that bothers me is when the question is raised as to why there is no parallel ritual for girls, and why it seems women are not part of the covenant.
I will now proceed to address the different approaches Reform and Reconstructionist Judaism have created in order to rectify this problem. I will conclude with my own explanation for why I believe all of this is a result of ignorance and a focus on a particular agenda in place of educating ourselves and our constituents as to what the real significance of Judaism's practices are all about.
Let us make one thing quite clear. All normal parents are equally joyous over the birth of their baby – regardless of gender. Some may have wanted (in their heart or mind) the other gender. But that feeling is usually wiped away one second after the baby is born. Nowadays, with many people knowing the child's gender before birth, it is a non-issue by the time the baby's mother goes into labor.
The Bris Party is not a celebration of the birth of a boy. It is a celebration of the fulfillment of this great and important mitzvah that parents (hmmm – a male and a female, and in cases of a single mother - only a female) perform on their son, to mark our commitment to the Covenant, and our connection to God through the promulgation of our continued adherence to the commitment He forged with our Forefather Abraham through circumcision.
People who wanted to celebrate their daughter's birth would often have a celebration in the synagogue on the Sabbath when their daughter was named – which was traditionally done when the Torah was being read. That this fell out of practice in less-traditional communities is a flaw in education and ritual practice -- not in the celebration of the arrival of a baby girl.
Which leads us to the next issue.
II. A Boy has a bris, but Judaism has no parallel ritual for girls. So, we will now make a parallel ritual
It is entirely appropriate to make a big deal over the birth of a baby girl. By all means, people should be invited to the synagogue when she is given her name. But, as mentioned before, the bris is not meant to be a fuss over the baby boy's arrival. We are celebrating the forging of the mark of the covenant on the baby.
Since girls obviously do not have the same anatomy as boys (they are, after all, girls), there is no need for a so-called parallel-ritual. Making a big baby-naming ceremony, complete with rituals that look more like a baptism than anything Jewish, have a connotation of a misplaced priority. I have read of rituals which include: the immersion of the child in a mikveh, the washing of her feet, a drawing of blood from her toe, assigning her first menstrual blood as her "blood of the covenant."
We must understand what we are celebrating, and put every kind of celebration in its proper context. Most mothers I have met would happily not have me do the bris on their sons were it not for the mitzvah. Who wants to have a newborn go through with such a procedure? Whenever I tell people (latter half in jest as you'll see) "Call me when your baby is born, but only if it's a boy. I don't work with girls." I always conclude the line with a hearty "THANK GOD."
We don't WANT to circumcise girls, and we certainly don't need to "compensate" for the lack of a parallel ritual by fabricating ceremonies that have no Jewish flavor.
III. We seek to change the premise that girls and women are not considered full members of the Jewish people
I have addressed here that a person is Jewish if born from a Jewish mother. This applies to male and female babies alike, and is completely unrelated to circumcision. In fact, a boy born of a Jewish mother who is, for whatever reason, uncircumcised, is still a Jew. [Depending on why he was not circumcised he may be responsible to take care of his circumcision once he reaches the age of majority, but he is never considered out of the fold, until he dies uncircumcised, in which case, we might take care of it for him anyway.]
Jewish females are not enjoined to partake in a circumcision (oy gevalt) or any parallel ritual simply because the first instruction given to Abraham was to "Walk before Me and become complete." (Genesis 17:1) In other words, with a foreskin, he is considered incomplete, requiring human intervention to perfect and complete his body. Once he no longer has a foreskin, his body is complete, and his spirit is opened (in a way it wasn't before) to become complete. The foreskin is therefore the barrier to his completeness.
Now let's look at the female. Hmmm... No foreskin… It should be obvious that the woman is created physically complete!
Logic would follow that insinuating a so-called "parallel ritual" for females would now be an insult to women. Why would you want to "imitate" the males if such a move would first have to bring you downfrom the level you're at, only to then go up? If you've already "arrived" why would you want to take steps back?
IV. We will now have a ceremony on the eighth day of the girl's life.
Many mothers have told me how much they enjoy the relative ease that follows the birth of a girl. "You don't have the rush and bustle of preparing for a bris. You don't have to worry about entertaining guests. You don't have to try to fit into a dress, or worry about the fact that despite baby now being on the outside, it sometimes takes a couple of weeks for the uterus to go back down to normal 'empty' size. You don't have to subject your baby to a surgical procedure a week after she was born. You don't have to shlep her out of the house for a bris and celebration. She does not have to be present when she is given her name. I don't have to be present. And we can take our leisurely time in celebrating her arrival in the way we want, at the time we want."
The Torah even describes such a difference in a woman's status after giving birth to a girl versus after giving birth to a boy (Leviticus chapter 12).
Why would you want to rush yourself to have such a celebration (beautiful as it is, but completely not mandated), when you can wait for baby's mommy to get back to herself leisurely and have her "go public" when she is ready?
Just to imitate boys?
This reminds me of the notion I have heard of having girls become "bnot mitzvah" at age 13. Traditionally, girls reach the age of Jewish majority at age 12. This is a tribute to their maturity, in mind and body, a complete year before their male counterparts. Celebrating their reaching majority at age 13, like the boys, is an insult to girls. Not a compliment.
Life is not about "trying to be like the Joneses" or "like the boys." Life is about embracing who we are, living to our potential, and filling the natural roles we are meant to fill. Saying a woman should be a father is not only ridiculous. It is nonsensical. (Just as saying a man should be a mother is ludicrous)
Saying a girl should have a celebration on the eighth day is similarly silly. If anything, following the chapter in Leviticus mentioned above, there may be room for a celebration of some kind on her 15th day. But that is pure conjecture – I have never seen any source that made such a suggestion.
V. But when we say the Grace After Meals, the text refers to our thanking God for, among other things, the "Covenant that You sealed in our flesh." It is clearly a text written by males, for males, which is meant to exclude women who do not bear such a mark in their flesh. We will change the text so it additionally thanks God "for the covenant You sealed in our hearts"
Nebich. I feel for people who can take a line like this and find offense in it. We, collectively, are thanking God for all the gifts he has given our people as a whole. We all thank God for the Covenant which happens to be marked on our (males') flesh. Just because the males bear the mark of the covenant does not mean women are not included in the covenant. I am unaware of any other reference to a "Covenant sealed in our hearts," and I believe this is a fabrication of such a notion.
Of course women are included in the covenant marked in our flesh. And here is why.
Firstly, the covenant was made with Abraham's descendants - ALL of them. Male and female.
Firstly, the covenant was made with Abraham's descendants - ALL of them. Male and female.
Secondly, if you read through Genesis 17, when Avraham is given the commandment to circumcise himself and the males in his household, taken careful note of what triggers the possibility of his being able to create this mark in the flesh.
7 I will sustain My covenant between Me and between you and your descendants after you throughout their generations, an eternal covenant; I will be a God to you and to your offspring after you. 8 To you and your offspring I will give the land where you are now living as a foreigner. The whole land of Canaan shall be [your] eternal heritage, and I will be a God to [your descendants].' 9 God [then] said to Abraham, 'As far as you are concerned, you must keep My covenant - you and your offspring throughout their generations. 10 This is My covenant between Me, and between you and your offspring that you must keep: You must circumcise every male.
AND OF COURSE, HOW DO THESE OFFSPRING COME ABOUT, SO HE CAN DO THE CIRCUMCISION?
15 God said to Abraham, 'Sarai your wife - do not call her by the name Sarai, for Sarah is her name. 16 I will bless her, and make her bear you a son. I will bless her so that she will be [the mother] of entire nations - kings will be her descendants.'
19 God said, 'Still, your wife Sarah will give birth to a son. You must name him Isaac. I will keep My covenant with him as an eternal treaty, for his descendants after him.
21 But I will keep My covenant with Isaac, whom Sarah will bear to you this time next year.'
The reason why we can fulfill this covenant is because our wonderful women bear the Jewish children who will bear the mark of the Covenant. Without getting into intricacies of the birds and bees, obviously these children were created when the women "bore the mark of the covenant in their flesh." (sounds weird, but it is obviously true.) Without our women, born complete in body, we are helpless, hopeless, and there is no Covenant.
CONCLUSION
I am not here to deny that in some elements of Jewish history women were not accorded opportunities they are accorded today. While there may have been an element of chauvinism involved, I do think it was no different than in any other society and culture in the world. At the same time, I believe Judaism has always been far ahead of the general society when it came to the positive treatment of women, inclusion of women, and appreciation of the role of the woman and mother in the family and community.
Before educational and employment opportunities were availed to women in the way they are now (our society in general has come a long way), women were very busy in their family lives and responsibilities – many of which have been made easier by modern technology. And these changes are welcome, wonderful, and an enhancement of our society.
But saying women were excluded from the bris comes from an ignorance of Torah, an ignorance of what the Covenant is, what women are, and what it means to have male anatomy. It is very easy to say that Judaism discriminates against any person or animal who is not included in certain practices. [It discriminates against men, women, Jews, non-Jews, Kohens (who cannot participate directly in funerals), Levites , homosexuals, heterosexuals, kosher animals, non-kosher animals. The list is not exhaustive and could theoretically be endless.] I will never be a Kohen, a Levi, a woman, a mother. I will admire their roles in Judaism as an observer, and I will do my best not to be jealous of their responsibilities because I know that I fit into the tapestry that is the Jewish life in my own way.
Most women I know are very happy that they never had a "bris," don't feel slighted in any which way, and never put a second thought to any notion of "inequality" in this regard.
May we all live to appreciate our gifts from God, who we are, how He created us, and find a way to live our lives filling our God-given roles as best as we possibly can.
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