Jews are called the “People of the Book” for a reason – they rely on books to instruct them in righteous living, and on how to bring justice into the world. Their books advise them on the details of life – from which foods to eat or not eat to suggestions on civil behavior, such as not raising your voice in conversation in order to keep the discussion more pleasant.

The major books that Jews turn to are quite familiar: Torah, which is the first five books of Moses that are read from a hand-written (perfect) scroll, usually in shul, temple, or synagogue each year. My father tells me that his parents owned a Torah, which is mother’s parents kept in their apartment and which my great-grandfather studied all the time, often with other Jewish men. And after their oldest son died in a pogrom in Latvia, in the early 1900s, my mother’s father’s parents, who were quite well-to-do for Jews living there then, had a Torah commissioned to honor that son, Israel. Then, when my grandfather and his best friend Gilbert (who eventually married one of my grandfather’s younger sisters, here in the States) got Bar Mitzvahed – at the same time, by the way – in my great-grandparents lavish apartment (for those times; Mother always tells me how they had sterling silver flatware and a grand piano and she was right – they had these things when others were living in one or two-room dwellings with dirt floors) they used that Torah. It is in a synagogue in Philadelphia now and I asked for it when we had no Torah in our little temple, but alas, that temple didn’t want to part with it. Anyway, the point here is that many people had their own Torahs to study; it wasn’t just a congregation that owned them. And today, what is in the Torah can be read by anyone, even on line.

So back to Maimonides, our dude who is one of the few Jewish scholars to ever address the issue of circumcision and have his musings recorded in a book that has survived hundreds of years. The other important books that Jews study is the Talmud, which a compendium of laws and commentary, and the Midrash, which is the book that retells Jewish stories, then interprets them and adds commentary of individual scholars. Along with three major works – Torah, Talmud, and Midrash – are other books, from prayer books to books by individual rabbis, scholars, commentators, poets, essayists, and novelists. We clearly are the “people of the Book!” In fact, when I got into writing, back in the late 1970s, the publishing industry in the U.S., located primarily in New York City but also elsewhere in a few other cities such as Chicago, Minneapolis, and San Francisco, was so dominated by Jewish editors, publishers, and agents that one of my Catholic editors used to joke about her inclusion. It’s not like that anymore but it is rare to go into a Jewish home and not find avid readers among the people living there.

For Jews, study and learning are as important as prayer. Indeed, it was study that helped the Jews survive the destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem by the Romans in 70 C.E. (I know I keep repeating that event but it is that important to our history!) The priestly caste of Sadducees lost power to the Pharisees, who were the spiritual fathers of modern Judaism. Their rabbis, who studied and taught in local synagogues and yeshivas (Jewish schools), helped sustain the Jews as a people through the following two thousand years of homelessness and exile. One of the most interesting things I learned about Jewish study was the respect any teacher had for the brilliant student  -- and for the poor student – and for women students. Let me explain. The first thing a Jewish group of at least 10 did was establish a school and a cemetery in the place they were exiled to – not necessarily a place of worship, though that would eventually come. Instead the school was more important that the place of worship. In addition, as I explained in an earlier post, males had compulsory education – by age 6, all Jewish males had to be in school and learning how to read Hebrew and to study, ask questions, and basically become a Jewish scholar even if they were eventually to become a peddler, merchant or tavern owner, as many did become. But – and this is what is also so interesting – women were not compelled to study but were allowed to study – and many did learn to read, write and study Jewish texts. One of my great-grandmothers was one of four daughters of a rabbi, who lived in a small shtetl in Latvia. Because he had no sons, he educated each daughter in Talmud and other texts. Basically, he taught them how to be judges because in those days, civil suits between Jews could only be settled in “Jewish courts,” so my great-grandmother (and her sisters) learned enough about Jewish law to settle cases. My grandmother settled them in the shtetl, Einselhof, where she and her husband lived in the early years of their marriage, before their eldest son was killed in that pogrom. 

The last thing I want to mention, although it will be told in the following story, is the respect for the brilliant student, who was often asked to teach, once his brilliance was revealed!

Maimonides, the scholar-philosopher-physician 
One of the most respected scholars of Judaism during the two millennia between the destruction of the Second Temple and the exile of most of the Jews living in Palestine and the creation of the State of Israel and their return to the area was Moses Maimonides. Maimonides was born in Cordoba, Spain, in 1135, while Spain was under Moorish control. Later, as the local Spanish Muslim rulers grew less tolerant of the Sephardic Jews there (and eventually expelled them, in 1492), Moses spent most of his early years in exile, traveling first through Spain and Morocco, then settling in Egypt. Along the way, in addition to his Jewish studies, he also studied philosophy and trained in medicine. In Cairo, he became a physician to the court of the Muslim leader, Saladin, and also became an important figure in the Jewish community there.

Much of Maimonides' writing was centered on the difficulty of balancing faith and reason. With loyalty to both his religious and his medical training, he searched for a way to understand and justify circumcision. His best-known book was The Guide for the Perplexed, first written in Arabic and later translated in Hebrew. Finally, over a thousand years later, it was translated into English. While other rabbis and scholars have written about Judaism and circumcision, it is the ideas that Moses Maimonides set forth that are still very much valued and often followed as guides even today.

Despite the importance of circumcision in Judaism, many rabbis and Jewish scholars simply took the custom for granted. But Maimonides, aspiring to explain and comment on every single one of the Torah’s 613 mitzvot, or commandments, wrote rather thoughtfully on circumcision. His comments are so interesting – and so frequently cited – that they are being included in this blog, because a discussion about Jewish circumcision would be incomplete without them.

First, a quote from a letter Maimonides wrote to the “wise men of Marseilles,” in 1194 C.E. “A person should only believe what he can grasp with his intellectual faculties, or perceive by his senses, or what he can accept on trustworthy authority. Beyond this, nothing should be believed.” Wow! Maimonides is saying that is up to you to read about circumcision, and think about the issues that surround it. Granted, I’ve only been dealing with primarily the Jewish and a few cultural issues in this blog – there are so many more to deal with, including medical, cultural, personal, sexual, ethical and other issues.  

After learning as much as you can about circumcision, accept what makes sense to you and reject what doesn’t make sense. That’s what Maimonides advised – and how modern his advice sounds. How liberal, too, at least in some areas. And how wise.

Maimonides on circumcision
In his Guide to the Perplexed, Maimonides first delivers an interesting commentary on the crossbreeding of animals. He advised against letting an ox and an ass plow a field together, lest they have intercourse and produce a mule – an animal that is sterile. (While it is clear that Maimonides would have something to say about the popularity of cross-breeding today – of cockapoos and Labradoodles, remember that he wasn’t against the creation of a new breed per se, but rather the creation of a sterile breed that could never reproduce. One rabbi told us that while Jews should not do crossbreeding, though they may enjoy the fruits of someone else’s crossbreeding efforts (sounds hypocritical but who knows? I don’t!) This means that grapples, pluots, and ugli fruit can be relished, and trendy cross-bred dogs, ligers, and zonkeys can be admired.

Maimonides then turned specifically to the subject of circumcision, beginning with a statement of what he believed the purpose of circumcision to be. According to him, circumcision is “to limit sexual intercourse, and to weaken the organ of generation as far as possible, and thus cause man to be moderate.” (Remember, those are his words, translated.)

“Some people believe that circumcision is to remove a defect in man’s formation; but everyone can easily reply, ‘How can products of nature be deficient so as to require external completion, especially as the use of the foreskin to that organ is evident.’” Hmmmmm, that don’t-mess-with-nature is one of the most common reasons given for leaving an infant’s foreskin intact – and for being active in the fight to ban routine elective circumcision. What is important to note is that Maimonides recognizes the foreskin’s sexual sensitivity, which many mohels, doctors, and others do not. Yet critics of circumcision often site this sexual sensitivity as the major reason to leave a foreskin intact.

“This commandment (to circumcise),” continues Maimonides, “has not been enjoined as a complement to a deficient physical creation, but as a means for perfecting man’s moral shortcomings. The bodily injury caused to that organ is exactly that which is desired,” (note that Maimonides is acknowledging that circumcision is not an insignificant medical procedure) “it does not interrupt any vital function (he is also recognizing that a man can have sex and function quite well without a foreskin), nor does it destroy the power of generation (meaning that a circumcision does not make a man sterile).”

“Circumcision simply counteracts excessive lust…for there is no doubt that circumcision weakens the power of sexual excitement, and sometimes lessens the natural enjoyment. . .the organ necessarily becomes weak when it loses blood and is deprived of its covering from the beginning. Our Sages say distinctly: It is hard for a woman, with whom an uncircumcised had intercourse, to separate from him. This is, as I believe, the best reason for the commandment concerning circumcision. (Wow!) And who was the first to perform this commandment? Abraham, our father, of whom it is well known how he feared sin; it is described by our Sages in reference to the words, ‘Behold, now I know that though art a fair woman to look upon.’ [Genesis 12:2].”

Maimonides continues, “ There is, however, another important object in this commandment. It gives to all members of the same faith, i.e., to all believes in the Unity of God, a common bodily sign, so that it is impossible for anyone that is a stranger, to say that he belongs to them. [Note: this is not true in the United States, but how could Maimonides have foreseen the popularity of circumcision among non-Jews, when in his time, many Christians abhorred the ritual. And clearly, Maimonides saw circumcision as a way of setting Jews apart from everyone else.] For sometimes, people say so for the purpose of obtaining some advantage, or in order to make some attack upon the Jews. No one, however, should circumcise himself – or his son – for any other reason but pure faith. [This is worth repeating because it is what my coauthor and I believe and the reason we wrote our book: “No one, however, should circumcise himself – or his son – for any other reason but pure faith”]. For circumcision,” says Maimonides,” is not like an incision on the leg, or a burning in the arm, but is a very difficult operation. It is also a fact that there is much mutual love and assistance among people that are united by the same sign when they consider it a covenant.” [Note that it is when circumcision is not just a medical procedure, but also a covenant that gives it so much power to unite.]

“Circumcision is likewise the covenant which Abraham made in connection with the belief in God’s unity. So also everyone that is circumcised enters the covenant of Abraham to believe in the unity of God, in accordance with the words of the Law, ‘To be a God unto thee, and to thy seed after thee.’ (Genesis 17). This purpose of the circumcision is as important as the first, and perhaps, more important.

“This law can only be kept and perpetuated in its perfection, if circumcision is performed when the child is very young, and this for three good reasons: First, if the operation were postponed till the boy had grown up, he would, perhaps, not submit to it. Secondly, the young child has not much pain, because the skin is tender and the imagination weak; for grown-up persons are in dread, and fear of things which they imagine coming, sometime before these actually occur. [Maimonides was wrong about the pain but absolutely on target about the dread – babies don’t dread nor can they imagine what may occur in the future, as boys and men can – and do.] Thirdly, when a child is very young, the parents do not think much of him; because the image of the child, that leads the parents to love him, has not yet taken a firm root in their minds. That image becomes stronger by the continual light; it grows with the development of the child, and later on the image begins again to decrease and to vanish. The parents’ love for a new-born child is not so great as it is when the child is one year old; and when one year old. . .it is less loved by them than when six years old. The feeling and love of the father for the child would have lead him to neglect the law if he were allowed to wait two or three years, whilst shortly after birth, the image is very weak in the mind of the parent, especially of the father, who is responsible for the execution of this commandment.” You may disagree with some of Maimonides observations, especially about loving a testy six-year old more than an adorable newborn, but he does have some rather interesting observations for someone observing nearly a thousand years ago!

To continue with Maimonides: “The circumcision must take place on the eight day (Leviticus, 12:3) because all living beings are after birth, within the first seven days, very weak and exceedingly tender, as if they were still in the womb of their mother; not until the eight day can they be counted among those that enjoy the light of the world. That this is also the case with beasts may be inferred with the words of Scripture: ‘Seven days shall it be under the dam’ (Leviticus 22:27), as if it had no vitality before the end of that period. In the same manner, man is circumcised after the completion of seven days. The period has been fixed, and has not been left to everybody’s judgment.

“The precepts of this class include, also, the lesson that we must not injure, in any way, the organs of generation in living beings (Leviticus 22:24). [Does this mean it is wrong to spay cats and dogs? Interesting.] The lesson is based on the principle of ‘righteous statutes and judgments’ (Deuteronomy 4:8); we must keep in everything the golden mean; we must not be excessive in love, but must not suppress it entirely; for the Law commands, ‘Be fruitful, and multiply’ (Genesis 1:22). The organ is weakened by circumcision, but not destroyed by the operation. The natural faculty is left in full force, but is guarded against excess. It is prohibited for an Israelite ‘that is wounded in the stones, or hath his privy member cut off’ (Deuteronomy 23:2) to marry an Israelite woman; because the sexual intercourse is of no use and of no purpose; and that marriage would be a source of ruin to her, and to him, who would claim her. This is very clear.” [Let’s not tell the disabled movement about that prohibition. On the other hand, I know a fellow who helped disabled men suffering spinal cord injuries to have sex again – and therefore, also, to please the women in their life. My favorite movie I saw in 2012, in fact, was the movie, “The Sessions,” a true story about a man who suffered from polio and was living in an iron lung most of the time, who learned, through a sexual surrogate trained to help men such as him, achieve orgasms and have sex with partners.]

If Maimonides had lived in contemporary times, he might have been more open-minded about erectile dysfunction, and as I just noted, about the disabled, as well, and would have found references in the Torah to support these compassionate leanings. Of course, though, he was writing long before Viagra and other erectile dysfunction medications, long before the establishment of the Kinsey Institute or the Institute for Advanced Studies of Human Sexuality. He was even writing long before the Internet, before Women’s Rights, Gay Rights and (and gay marriage, adoption and parenting), and before the passage of the American Disability Act. 

Jews had enjoyed a great deal of freedom in the Spain of Maimonides. Alas, a few hundred years later, the Golden Period would come to an end – with the Spanish Inquisition and the expulsion of Jews from Spain. Only a few days ago, as I was researching this again, was there an article in The New York Times, about how difficult the Sephardic Jews are regaining their citizenship, even when they have proved that their ancestors were expelled so many centuries ago. 

What is so wise about Maimonides, and what I would love to conclude this entire blog with is the advice, worth taking and worth remembering if you are thinking about circumcising your son for religion, especially for Judaism (or to placate your Jewish parents, Jewish spouse, Jewish in-laws, or Jewish grandparents –yours or your partner’s) is to consider Maimonides dictate: The only reason to circumcise your son -- if you believe in God and want to live your life in relationship with God by observing as many mitzvot as possible, including what is considered one of the most important, and clearly the first – is to honor and to fulfill the Covenant of Abraham, which is the Covenant of Circumcision. Repeat: the only reason.

Finally, Maimonides also advised that if you decide to circumcise your son – knowing the difficulty of the operation, and knowing how hard it can be to watch because of the love you have for your son, a love that is destined to grow, and knowing that your son may choose not to be circumcised when he is older, so that circumcising him early is better than risking his decision not to be circumcised (but only if you believe it is your decision, or rather responsibility, to make; others believe it is not yours to make but rather, your son’s right to make the decision.) Infant circumcision today is relatively safe and far easier than circumcising an older child or adult, though there is a new technique being used in Africa and developed by an Israeli company that could change that. What is most important here – the most important message to take away from the entire blog and from Maimonides’ wisdom is this: Maimonides – nor anyone else – gets the last word on the circumcision of a Jewish infant – you do. If you believe, after a fair degree of research, consideration and perhaps, discussion with your spouse, your rabbi, your physician and others, that you have the right or responsibility to make the decision, then make as informed a decision as you possibly can. But if you are making it on the basis of Judaism, do as Maimonides suggested: Do it for faith in God and in Judaism and for no other reason. A circumcision can always be done later but can never be undone (despite attempts to grow new foreskins). 

Good luck with the decision. Remember that most Jewish men in the history of Judaism were circumcised – and circumcised on the eighth day of their life. On the other hand, a few, very notable men, were not circumcised at birth and spent most of their adulthood uncircumcised. These include both Abraham and Moses. But most importantly, if you are having a son, and intending to raise him Jewish – with or without a foreskin—Mazel tov! May he always be a blessing to you and your family.

 
One of the hallmarks of modern living, including modern Jewish living, is the opportunity we have to either follow tradition or invent new traditions. There was a time when the idea of a woman reading from the Torah, at a Shabbat service or B’nai Mitzvah, would have been impossible to imagine. But Judaism, as a living religion, has responded to numerous changes in both culture and religion, and continues to respond. Judith Kaplan, a 12-year old daughter of Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan, who founded Reconstructionist Judaism, had the first synagogue Bat Mitzvah, in New York City, in 1922, nearly a hundred years ago. The custom spread, first amongst Reconstructionist and Conservative Jews, then later among Reform and other liberal Jews. Now, only the most traditional Orthodox Jews question a girl’s privilege to read from a Torah at a service, or to become a rabbi, a cantor or even a mohel (ritual Jewish circumciser).

Today, some Jews, especially younger Jews, are choosing to substitute new traditions for those they consider obsolete, irrelevant, or sexist. Some of these reformers suggest abandoning the bris, and even abandoning the Covenant of Circumcision – while remaining committed to Judaism and to Jewish family life. Some Jewish parents search for ceremonies to welcome infant daughters to Judaism as joyously as infant sons are welcomed at a bris. And some parents of infant boys wish to celebrate their son’s birth, whether the son is circumcised or left intact.

The effort to preserve and honor tradition, while accommodating and incorporating newer ideas and ways of living, follows the path laid out by Reform Jews during the 1800s, when they shortened services by eliminating repetitious prayers, and when they added new prayers, choral music, and vernacular language. And sometimes, they resurrected abandoned traditions, such as the sermon.

To help people find new ways to celebrate Judaism today, the Jewish Publication Society invited Vanessa Ochs, a professor of Religious Studies, at the University of Virginia, to create a manual/guidebook for contemporary Jews. The project ended up taking ten years to complete, and resulted in the book, Inventing Jewish Ritual. In the book, Ochs designed a virtual “Jewish ritual toolbox,” consisting of three compartments, each holding some of the materials for modern Jews to create new ways to observe and celebrate Judaism.

Texts. The first compartment is the “Jewish toolbox” shows how to use traditional texts as starting points for a new ritual. For example, it presents passages from Torah and other ancient texts, teachings of sages, folktales, prayers, and Jewish and Hebrew poems and songs, and adds contemporary poems, songs, or prayers to them. Thus, when my daughter created a ceremony to celebrate my son’s birth, my husband wrote a naming ceremony, using traditional Hebrew blessings. I wrote a poem that I lovingly – and admittedly, tearfully – read at the ceremony. The poem spoke of why my grandson is so special, and what he would bring to our family (all of which came true, by the way!)

Familiar Jewish ritual actions and objects. The second compartment of the “Jewish toolbox” holds blessings and traditions, such as lighting candles, smelling spices, and dipping bread in honey. It describes Jewish art and items of symbolic importance, from prayer books and wine to challah (ritual braided bread), menorahs, prayer shawls, and more. By blending these symbols into new rituals – borrowing from past cultures for the present – the new rituals become, as Ochs suggests, “ours,” and therefore genuinely Jewish, even if they have never been seen before.

Enduring, core Jewish understanding and ethical obligations. In the third toolbox compartment, Ochs places the beliefs and traditions that have sustained the Jewish people throughout the ages, including the Jewish idea of the presence of God, and the obligation we have to build what Ochs calls “the sanctified life.” As a central theme in her work, Ochs emphasizes that, in creating new ceremonies and traditions, it is important to keep all that is worth keeping from Jewish religious and cultural history.

The Brit Shalom
A new alternative to the bris, as a way to welcome a newborn into Judaism, is the ceremony of Brit Shalom, which means Covenant of Peace. A Brit Shalom is actually a naming ceremony minus the circumcision. A son or a daughter is given a Hebrew name. Then traditional and new blessings are recited by a rabbi or the person chosen to conduct the ceremony. The ceremony can be a traditional naming, at a temple, on a Friday night or Saturday morning service, or it can be at a holiday service. It can also be done at a special service, followed by a festive meal, with family members and friends are invited to special occasion. Suggestions for writing a naming ceremony, as well as other rituals, can be found in Ochs’ book, Inventing Jewish Ritual, and on Internet sites, such as  HYPERLINK "http://www.kveller.com" kveller.com, “the Jewish twist on parenting,” as it describes itself.

Washing of feet
Another alternative suggestion I found while researching this topic was a ceremony that admittedly elicits mixed reactions. It’s the “washing of the feet” ceremony, based on the passage in Genesis, where Abraham greets the three strangers in his home. He beckons them to stay a while, and says, “Let a little water be brought, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree.” One of the strangers tells Abraham that when they return, Abraham's wife (infertile up to now) will have given birth to a son. Sarah, long past childbearing days and having given up hope of ever conceiving a child with Abraham, laughs upon hearing the prophecy. 

The story of Abraham’s hospitality (my favorite Torah tale, by the way), of his 89-year-old wife laughing at the idea of having the child she had given up on ever having but had long desired, and the welcoming gesture of washing a stranger’s feet is suggested as the model for a ceremony to welcome a newborn into a Jewish family, and into the Jewish community, as well. The ceremony, with a ritual foot-washing, can also be used to welcome a baby daughter, or a son who had a hospital circumcision but no bris. And of course, it can be used for parents who have chosen to leave their son intact and uncircumcised.

Can foot washing replace circumcision – or a bris? Unlikely, according one Reform rabbi, who was one of the most liberal rabbis I have ever met or interviewed. “Unlikely,” he said, “because most Jews are not looking for alternatives to circumcision or to a bris. As uncomfortable as many parents feel – and have felt for thousands of years – watching their son’s circumcision – they are more uncomfortable giving up the tradition. Well, at least most of them are. “Furthermore,” the rabbi commented, “foot washing lacks the intensity, the history, or the spiritual strength of a circumcision.” Perhaps more significantly, adoption of any ritual that seems to imitate a non-Jewish tradition, as foot-washing does, since it is happens to be a ritual practiced by many Christian denominations, and is also a Muslim ritual, runs the risk of offending some Jewish members or friends, particularly the older ones or the more traditional ones. Still, for a few modern Jewish parents or interfaith couples, a foot-washing ceremony might be an appealing alternative to a bris

Immersion ceremony
A few Jewish parents, especially those seeking a ceremony to welcome a female baby, have suggested a ritual of immersion in water. This idea draws from the tradition of the ritual Jewish bath, the mikveh, which is seen as a symbolic act to achieve purity. Like foot-washing, though, this immersion ceremony has also been criticized. Judaism teaches that all infants are born pure of sin, and thus purification is unnecessary. Also, an immersion ritual seems, to many Jews, discomfortingly similar to the Christian practice of baptism. Indeed, the Apostle Paul recommended substituting baptism for circumcision, back in the early days of Christianity, a suggestion that was taken. In fact, that suggestion was also for converts, who up to that point, faced circumcision.

Tattoos
Still another, albeit rarely adopted, alternative to circumcision or bris is replacing the “mark” of circumcision with a tattoo of, say, a Hamish hand, which is the popular design found in Jewish crafts and jewelry, thought to be a Hebrew letter, or a protection against evil. Frankly, I think tattoos, with their history of being banned in Judaism (ditto for any mark to the body, including piercings), and even their history as identifying marks during the Holocaust (the numbers tattooed to the arms of prison and death camp inmates), would make an “acceptable” replacement for circumcision. Tolerated by many Jewish parents when their son grows up, and even sported by some Jewish parents, tattoos are unlikely to be accepted on any Jewish child. Also, while the Torah passage can be interpreted in different ways, Leviticus 19:28 proclaims “that you shall not print any marks upon you.” 

If your teenage son does get a tattoo that is a Jewish symbol, yes, he will look Jewish. If it is on a part of the body that isn’t generally seen, then yes, it will be as private a mark as a circumcision. Because it is hard to see a religious purpose in a tattoo, however, my coauthor and I think that the idea that a Jewish parent would tattoo an infant to mark him as Jewish, is, well, farfetched. 

On the other hand, having raised sons through their teen, young adult years and now being a grandmother, I’ve learned that if a son chooses to get a symbolic Jewish tattoo – especially if he is uncircumcised and intact and lives on a commune or on the West Coast, then, it may not seem so preposterous.

Letting the father cut the foreskin
Although this is a blog about alternatives to circumcision or to a bris, I’d like to mention a recent practice among young Jews, in which the mohel prepares the foreskin, by separating it from the glans, then stretching it over a surgical shield, such as the Mogen clamp. Then the father, who probably never cut a foreskin in his life or performed surgery of any sort, except maybe to excise a splinter, does the actual cutting of the foreskin, trying to do it in one complete circular cut, as prescribed by halakha (Jewish law).  Frankly, I don’t know what to say about this, except the fear that the trend may continue until some father botches the circumcision, because the Mogen shield isn’t a perfect protection the way the Gomco shield is. In fact, the Mogen is no longer manufactured after two major suits were filed against it, in recent years, for botched circumcisions. Only two but if it was your son, you wouldn’t care how low the number was, you were care about the botched circumcision. Yes, Abraham circumcised his son, and Zipporah, Moses’ wife, purportedly circumcised her son, with no circumcision training. And one doctor interviewed for this said the challenging part of a circumcision is not the cut but the placement of the protective shield. Still, in my worrisome-Jewish-mother/grandmother role in life, the reward doesn’t seem worth the risk. On the other hand, when several doctors, all of whom had been graduated from some of the nation’s leading medical schools and working at prestigious medical centers, were asked how many circumcisions a medical person needs to do in order to master the skill of a circumcision, the number was astonishing – for how low it was! It ranged from doing only 1 to 3 circumcisions! So they would view the cutting off of a foreskin far differently than this worrisome, low-risk-taking Jewish mother/mother-in-law/and grandmother. That’s for sure.  Conclusion here? I’m thinking – and suggesting (strongly) – that circumcision is best left to those best trained and most experienced at surgically removing a foreskin.

Hatefet dam brit ceremony
Hatafet dam brit is the shedding of the blood of the Covenant, and is a ritual (stemming from antiquity) for babies and men who have been circumcised, but who did not have their circumcision done at a ritual bris. Often, the circumcision was done shortly after birth, in the hospital. Or they may have been circumcised later but before being adopted by a Jewish family. Still another reason for this ceremony is when a non-Jewish male, who has already been circumcised, is converting to Judaism and requires the ritual that fulfills the Covenant, meaning the token blood that “seals the deal” with God is required. 

That’s because, as you may recall (or not!), in ancient times, deals or agreements, which were called “covenants” then, were often – or usually (frankly I’m not sure about this so comments would be nice) sealed in blood, either blood from an animal, or in the case of a Covenant of Circumcision, in human blood. Many traditional, and some liberal Jewish rabbis, believe that without the blood-at-the-bris ritual, a convert or an infant who didn’t have a bris is not “sealed” into the Covenant of Circumcision – because there’s no fooling God about this.

The Hatafet dam brit is a ritual reenactment of circumcision, in order to provide the blood that fulfills the sealing of the covenant. The officiant is usually a mohel, a ritual Jewish circumciser, who draws a drop or two of blood, from the penis, to provide the necessary blood. The Union of Reform Judaism, however, does not require this ritual for converts, nor do they even require circumcision for adult converts, although some of their member Reform rabbis disagree and do require it.

Now, can a Hatafet dam brit replace a circumcision? In other words, can you take the ritual blood – while leaving the foreskin intact – on a healthy baby who could otherwise tolerate a circumcision, at least medically (because I now that much of the sentiment around the struggle to ban or to convince parents not to circumcision is centered on this, that an infant actually doesn’t tolerate circumcision, that an infant who appears calm may actually be in shock, especially when the circumcision is performed with only a wine-soaked gauze to stop the pain of it.) According to Orthodox rabbi/mohel Rabbi Yehuda Lebovics, without a circumcision – with a foreskin left intact – the hatafat dam brit is meaningless. He believes that the drop of blood is valid only if there is no foreskin. Otherwise, he believes, it is just a waste of a drop of blood. This is one rabbi’s and one mohel’s opinion, yes, but no beating around the bush here!

A kinder cut
In the circumcisions performed in ancient times, before the destruction of the Second Temple, in 70 C.E., on the tip of the foreskin – the skin extending past the acorn-shaped glans – was removed. By leaving the rest of the foreskin intact, the man retained the sexual sensitivity and lubrication that many say a foreskin provides. Yet from the time of Abraham until the 70 C.E., that’s how the Covenant of Circumcision was fulfilled. Today, there are two issues connected with this “kinder cut” style of circumcision.

The medical problem. When an infant or adult heals from this type of circumcision, the cut end of the foreskin can adhere to the glans, This can cause a future problem, namely preventing the penis from reaching a full, painless erection, or reaching an erection at all. A second circumcision may then be needed to correct the problem, and that may cause scar tissue to form on the glans.

The religious problem. While this “less-is-better” circumcision once fulfilled the ritual requirements for a circumcision, it no longer fulfills those requirements. For almost two thousand years, Jewish circumcisers have been removing the entire foreskin and are unlikely (note: unlikely) to take a step back, especially a step that is over two thousand years back. According to most of the Jewish authorities my coauthor and I interviewed for our book, this limited version of circumcision is an as unlikely to replace the complete, but in the opinion of some, drastic, foreskin removed, as unlikely as Jewish leaders have been to give up on circumcision altogether. It is worth noting here, however, that there are some Jewish leaders, albeit in the minority, who oppose circumcision.

Some final words on the subject
Much to think about here! It would be nice if the issue were as clear-cut as many mohels and traditional Jews – and for that matter, the majority of Jewish parents and grandparents – think it is. We Jews have been circumcising our sons for over four thousand years; no one is going to stop us from continuing our oldest tradition. On the other hand, since antiquity, some Jews have challenged the tradition – and other traditions, as well, including the patriarchic tradition of only have men participate in a service, read from Torah, or even perform a circumcision. Today, among liberal Jewish movements, a circumcision performed by a female mohels is as acceptable a covenant as a circumcision performed by a traditional male mohel. So whether you believe a ceremony can be substituted for a circumcision and still be an agreement, the one God made with Abraham, that he walk in the way of God and be good is your decision – perhaps made with a rabbi you know or a Jewish scholar you respect. 

Here’s my thinking. We have a lot of rituals, Jewish and otherwise, that get taken for granted and then don’t fulfill what they could fulfill or are meant to fulfill. Take the blessing over food or even the lighting of Shabbat candles. For years, I never did either and I’m still struggling with remembering to bless my food each time I eat and even bless my water each time I drink (my younger son’s recent suggestion to me, actually). It’s not that I’m trying to do these blessings in order to fulfill the law or custom to do them. It’s that I recognize now that doing them brings a mindfulness to what I’m doing, that I then can’t take them for granted, that they do feel like a blessing. For example, if each time I bless my food, and then think of truly what a blessing it is to eat an adequate, and even delicious meal, it’s going to enhance my life and certainly enhances the enjoyment of the meal. Well, if a ritual is going to be a substitute for circumcision, it, too, has to be an adequate one, a constant reminder that one is Jewish and that with that comes Jewish commandments, Jewish ethics, Jewish tradition, and yes, even Jewish culture. If you can achieve that with a child who is uncircumcised, and I believe you can but it takes effort, then consider alternative ceremonies. In fact, it is like being Jewish and living with few other Jewish people – it’s harder to take the Jewishness for granted than, say, living in a heavily populated Jewish area such as a borough in New York City or living in Tel Aviv. In all honesty, though, I’m being somewhat hypocritical – because I’m writing this on the morning of Shabbat! I’m leaving soon to visit my elderly parents and have much to do before leaving, from packing to attending a (non-Jewish) memorial service today. And that’s why I recognize and appreciate the bending of some rules that we modern, liberal Jews often do and appreciate. So what’s more powerful here: intentionally bending or breaking a rule, then, perhaps out of guilt, perhaps out of mindfulness, making a special attempt to compensate. What I mean is this question: If a parent decides not to circumcise a son but substitute the circumcision with an alternative ritual, but still wants to raise that son to be Jewish, would that parent perhaps make more of an effort to consciously or subconsciously give that intact child a Jewish identity, such as more inclined to light the Shabbat candles, to celebrate even the minor Jewish holidays that liberal Jews often overlook (such as Simcha Torah), send the child to Jewish religious school, camp or a Birthright trip to Israel? Frankly, I don’t have an answer to this question except from personal experience. But I do know that to most Jews, circumcision is often taken for granted. To a few, it is done but the bris is skipped without realizing the strong connection between circumcision and bris.

The small, but increasing number of Jews, often in interfaith marriages or giving birth with a midwife attending the birth (midwives often challenge circumcision), who challenge the tradition, deserve respect. Even though they may be questioning our oldest tradition, they are questioning it mostly because they are concerned about the welfare of their child. And while Abraham may have been willing to sacrifice his child to God, a story that is repeated but is repeatedly hard to grasp, Sarah died shortly afterwards, probably from the shock of knowing what could have occurred.

 
You might think that the least difficult part of the circumcision decision is whether to have the circumcision at a bris. That means: a circumcision with family and friends present as your newborn son is circumcised, reciting ancient blessings, hearing your son receive his Hebrew name, more blessings, then celebrating the joy of the occasion with a traditional Jewish meal. Or, whether to have a routine neonatal circumcision, in the hospital. No brainer, right? Think again.

To parents waffling over the circumcision decision, having people watch their son’s circumcision can seem, well, a bit primitive. Expose your baby to all those people while his foreskin is cut off? The prospect may sound unpleasant. But guess what? A hospital circumcision, while easier on the parents, who usually aren’t present, does not fulfill the Jewish covenant as prescribed in the Book of Genesis. Nor does it fulfill the law as laid out in the Book of Leviticus. And, importantly, it does not conform to Rabbinical Law –  Reform, Conservative, or Orthodox. And while the Jewish Humanists don’t have a bris, they don’t advise having a circumcision, either. In Judaism, to have a circumcision without a bris is a lose-lose proposition.

Think of it this way: A hospital circumcision is like a Bar Mitzvah with no one present but the tutor and the boy. Seriously. A private circumcision, especially if performed by a non-Jewish circumciser, is not the real deal. Not even close. True, it is the circumcision of a Jewish infant, but it is not the joyous, sacred, life-cycle celebration of a circumcision at a bris. And not being the “real deal,” the boy is not officially sealed into the Covenant of Circumcision. Oy! Judaism can seem so demanding!

Some liberal rabbis or cantors are willing to ignore the 8th day rule, and will go the hospital with the parents, and perhaps some family members or friends, and will recite the blessings while a doctor performs the procedure. Some Jewish doctors will recite the blessings themselves during the circumcision they perform. Does that make a circumcision kosher enough? We guess that if you aren’t affiliated (meaning, a member of a Jewish congregation), and aren’t hung up on Jewish tradition, you will think, yes, it is. If you are an observant Jews, this will likely not be “Jewish enough,” and in fact, if you are observant, you probably won’t even be reading this blog!

It is important to remember that however unnerving it feels to watch a circumcision, especially the circumcision of your own infant, a bris is a joyous occasion to welcome an infant into your circle of family and good friends. And no one, including the mother or father of the infant, is ever required to watch the actual circumcision.

Why a bris fulfills the covenant
To understand why a bris fulfills the covenant to circumcise a Jewish infant, on the eight day of his life, and a routine hospital circumcision fails to fulfill that covenant, we need to look at the history of the bris, which, like many rituals in Jewish life, has evolved over time. Many new customs have become part of the circumcision ceremony, although, when compared to a Jewish wedding, a bris is considerably less elaborate and formal (though some families do seem to go all out, so to speak).

According to Talmudic law, a father’s responsibilities are to do the following for his son: “to circumcise him, to teach him Torah, to find him a wife, and to teach him a trade.” Some scholars add that the father is also supposed to teach his son how to swim. My husband, who is a competitive (very competitive; as I write this his 7 medals won at the National Master’s Swim competition. Actually, at age 66, he’s swimming faster than he did in high school. Some of that is due to what swim coaches have learned since then but much is due to his earnest training, his daily workouts, and hey, I think he looks great so I’m not complaining, even if it means some of the chores get put off for months at a time.). Back to a father’s responsibility to teach a son to swim. It probably comes from Judaism’s insistence that a person acquire the skills necessary to survive.

In the earliest times of Judaism, the bris was a simple ceremony, at home (which, by the way, it can still be). Traditionally, no one was actually invited; the parents simply told neighbors and friends that they infant won would be circumcised on the eighth day after his birth. Anyone who wanted to come was welcome. The circumcision was performed by the father or by a person the father chose to do the circumcision on his behalf. Remember, that in the early days of Judaism – and of circumcision – it was a minor, albeit perhaps painful, cutting away of only the tip of the foreskin. And since infants heal rapidly, and don’t even require stitches when the entire foreskin is cut away, a father, who in those days was probably a farmer and used to using a knife, didn’t shy away from doing it. Eventually, however, few fathers did perform a circumcision. The job of circumcising and doing the blessings and naming became the job of the mohel, a devout Jewish man who could recite the blessings and had learned how to perform a circumcision, often by watching his father circumcise infants through the years.

A bris is supposed to take place during daylight, and most took place in the morning, perhaps to show how eagerly this child was received, and how eager his parents were to honor the covenant. Guests were offered the traditional Jewish bread – challah – and wine, perhaps chickpeas and other small snacks. Family members and friends recited blessings in Hebrew. The ceremony demonstrated how much this child would be loved, and how much joy he would bring, and the significance of the eternal covenant – that this child would be raised as a Jew, learn to live by Jewish values and ethics, and be responsible for living a righteous life, and for helping the Jewish people survive.

By the Middle Ages, the bris, like the circumcision procedure itself, had been transformed. As David Gollaher describes in his book, Circumcision, it was expanded to include the local community; it took place at a synagogue, with a minyan (the quorum of at last 10 men, often more though) and it required a special cushion of the infant, a chair for the prophet Elijah (who comes to circumcisions and to Passover Seders. Go figure.) and prescribed roles for grandparents and other family members or close friends of the family. Always, as in Jewish tradition, a celebratory meal followed.

Around 1400, a prominent German rabbi decided that women should be excluded from participating in the ceremony. This restriction became entrenched in custom and was observed for hundreds of years! Now, of course, women attend the bris, and can make up all or part of the minyan. Women also serve as rabbis and cantors, and as mohels (mohelet is the female term for a ritual circumciser).

At the bris, a Jewish male is also given his Hebrew name, which marks the beginning of the acquisition of his soul. According to tradition, the name should not be newly created. However, once a name has been created, it becomes “kosher” and can be used by others. Furthermore, it should be the name of a righteous person, as a name is a portent of a child’s future, and a description of his life. (So, let’s see, Abraham was the father of multitudes; Sarah was the first Jewish princess, and Jacob was renamed Israel, which refers to his struggling with God.)

What does Bris or Brit mean?
Bris (the Ashkenazi pronunciation) or Brit (the Sephardic or Israeli pronunciation) is Hebrew for “covenant,” which refers to the pledge that God made to Abraham, in Chapter 17, of the Book of Genesis. Mitzvah means “commandment” and milah means “to cut.” The mitzvah of a Bris or Brit Milah, therefore, is the commandment to perform the Covenant of Circumcision. Some rabbis teach that the mitzvah of circumcision equals in importance to the remaining 612 mitzvot (commandments) in the Torah. Yes, in Judaism, the mitzvah to circumcise a son (or be circumcised, as a convert) is a big deal.

Interestingly, Milah means both “cut” and “word,” because in Judaism, it is believed that words – speech and sound – are how we bring the spiritual realm into the tangible, physical realm. (Writers take note: Words are at the root of the Jewish concept of the awesomeness of Creation.) In this way, the baby’s naming, at a Brit Milah, brings a portion of the “infinite soul” of the entire world into the infant, and becomes the beginning of his Godly soul. (A lovely idea, don’t’ you think?)

About the actual bris Milah (already!)
As said already, a bris is more than a circumcision – it is a ceremony with blessings, with a Hebrew naming, and with a ritual meal. Although there are some bris milah traditions that observant, Orthodox Jews keep, what follows is a typical bris that might take place in either a traditional or liberal Jewish home. There will be some variations – by community and the branch of Judaism, and by the individual rabbi, cantor, or mohel, and perhaps by the family’s heritage, whether it is Ashkenazi or Sephardic

The bris takes place on the eighth day, after birth, during daylight, and preferably in the earlier part of the day. It is held then even if it is Yom Kippur or Sabbath because a circumcision is so important. However, if the infant is not strong or healthy enough, then the bris is postponed. And a postponed bris does not take place on a Sabbath or a holiday. In addition, if the baby was born by Caesarean section, the bris also takes place on the day following the Sabbath or a Jewish holiday.

The Jewish day begins at sundown because, in the Creation story, first there was night, and then there was day. Thus, if a baby is born on a Tuesday afternoon, Tuesday will be his first day of his life and therefore his bris will take place the following Tuesday, during the day, since that will be the eighth day of his life. However, if he is born after sundown on Tuesday, that counts as being born on the following day, a Wednesday, and his bris would therefore take place on the following Wednesday and not on the following Tuesday. Following me, here? 

Why this eighth day rule? you may be wondering. One reason may be that by the eight day, both the infant and his mother are stronger – he’s strong enough to be circumcised and she’s strong enough to attend the ceremony. By the eight day, nursing and feeding patterns have been established, and parents and child have bonded. By the eighth day, the infant’s blood-clotting factors have developed. On the other hand, by not waiting until he is eight years old, or puberty, or even six months later, as in some cultures that circumcise their males, he won’t need stitches, bleeding is minimal, and the wound heals somewhat quickly. Also, even though we know that infants today do feel pain and trauma when they are being circumcised, the pain can be minimized with injectible pain relief. In older infants, children and adults, a general anesthesia will be required. (There is a new technique being used in Africa, which was invented in Israel, which can be used on adults whose foreskin has separated from the glans. This technique, called the PrePex, is painless, bloodless, and easy to use and has minimal complications, if any. However, because it is bloodless, and because blood is required for sealing a covenant deal, it does not fulfill the requirements of a bris but a ritual prick that does draw a token few drops of blood might fulfill that requirement. Comments on that welcome!)

Some traditional religious beliefs offer other possible reasons for the eighth day rule. Rabbi Akiva, a revered rabbi of the late first and early second centuries C.E. suggested that God purposely did not create a perfect world, so that human beings could have a role in its creation. Circumcision enables them to help complete the work of creation. 

Another belief is that the by the eighth day the infant will have lived through a complete week, including Sabbath, before his circumcision. Thus, he will have “experienced the holiness of the Sabbath” and may enter into the covenant, and become part of the Jewish people. Still other scholars offer another explanation for the eighth day rule, which is that the mother’s blood is considered impure and that it takes at least seven days after birth for the son to be cleansed of that impurity. (Incidentally, if this irritates you feminists – and if the truth be known, I hope it does as that explanation irritates me, then consider the “impure blood rule” for giving birth to a girl baby – takes days before the baby is free of her mother’s impurity.) (Oy!)

A bris can take place anywhere, but a light-filled room, with windows, is preferred. While it is often help in a parents’ home, a custom that dates from the days when women routinely gave birth at home, the bris can also be in a room at the shul, synagogue, or temple, or be in a private room in a hospital (which was common decades ago when women tended to be in the hospital a week or two after birth). Today, some parents host the bris at a party center, country club, or restaurant.

By tradition, at least since the Middle Ages, a minyan of ten adults is preferred, but not required. Therefore, a bris may include just the infant, his parents, or a single parent, and the circumciser, and person to recite the prayers if the circumciser doesn’t know them. Typically, siblings, grandparents, and other family members and close friends are included.

Traditionally, the circumciser should be a devout Jew, and the circumcision can be performed by a mohel or mohelet (preferably, a medically certified mohel or mohelet), who can also recite the blessings and do the naming. Today, some physicians are also mohels and some mohels are physicians, perhaps a retired physician. A physician/mohel can perform the circumcision, recite the blessings, and has the advantage of being able to provide more effective (injected) pain relief instead of the topical pain relief a non-physician mohel offers (though some mohels still hold on to the idea that a wine-soaked piece of gauze is enough to minimize pain and that infants who aren’t crying aren’t in pain – my research suggests that a non-crying infant may be experiencing trauma!)

Obstetricians, pediatricians, urologists and other physicians, and nurse-midwives can perform circumcisions and are frequently asked to perform them. (My experience with midwives, however, is that an overwhelming number midwives of today are reluctant or unwilling to perform a circumcision, believing that it is unnecessary or even a form of mutilation.) If the circumciser you choose is not Jewish or is Jewish but cannot recite the blessings, then ask a rabbi, cantor, or devout Jew who can take on that role.

A sample scenario
At the  bris, as at other Jewish life-cycle ceremonies, it is customary to honor grandparents and others who are respected and loved by the infant’s parents. The highest honor goes to the sandek, the person who will hold the infant on his or her lap, during, or at least just before and just after, the circumcision (since some circumcisers will strap the child on a board or a table in order to perform the circumcision). The sandek can also be a revered rabbi, a grandparent, or a close, beloved friend. The sandek is the only person who sites during a bris; everyone else stands.

Other honors that can be given to family members of friends are kvatar and kvaterin, which means the godfather and godmother. Note that in Jewish tradition, godparents serve only at the bris, unlike Christian godparents, who are expected to be godparents for life. Sometimes a woman who is trying to conceive a child will be given the honor of being a godmother, with the hope that the honor will bring her the good fortune of becoming pregnant and being a parent herself.

Typically, the kvaterin (godmother) takes the infant from mother, who perhaps, has just nursed the infant, and brings the infant into the circumcision room, where she hands him to the kvatar (godfather) or to his father, who hands places his infant son in the lap of the sandek, who is seated. (Ready for some old-fashioned reasoning, feminists? The reason for this multi-step, handing-over is that, traditionally, the father is not permitted to take the infant from the mother, since she is still considered to be in a state of impurity.) Other guests may be honored by being asked to bless the wine or to offer special blessings of their own.

Just as the prophet Elijah has a place of honor at the Passover table, he has a role at a bris. A special chair is reserved for him, to acknowledge his zeal in protecting the ritual of circumcision, when King Ahab and Queen Jezebel, of Israel, sought, in the ninth century B.C.E., to have it banned. If the bris is at a temple, Elijah’s chair may already be there. At a bris at home or elsewhere, the mohel may bring the chair. Or, a chair can be covered with a beautiful cloth and designated as Elijah’s chair. 

Frequently, the infant is placed on a special pillow for the circumcision, one that is provided by a parent, someone in the family, or by the circumciser. The only items needed are kosher wine, and traditional food for the celebration.

If the mother is not Jewish, if the infant is the child of a same-sex couple, or if he is the child of a single parent, a rabbi or mohel can be asked to suggest ways to adapt the traditional ceremony. Reform and other liberal Jewish rabbis or mohels, and some Conservative ones, may be responsive to such changes, but most Orthodox rabbis and mohels are unlikely to be. 

The  bris begins
Dressed in white for purity – because Judaism believes that infants are born pure in spirit – or dressed in any other garment of choice – the mother will hand her infant son to the kvatar or kvaterin, or to his other parent, who says a prayer that designates the circumciser as a fill-in for the task, That person carries the infant into the circumcision room. As he is brought in, everyone, except the sandek, stands – and remains standing – while the child is blessed. Next, the infant is momentarily placed in the Chair of Elijah, then placed on the lap of the sandek. If the circumciser is performing the circumcision on a table, the sandek will hand the infant to the circumciser.

This is the point at which the issue of pain relief becomes crucial. Studies show that infants do feel pain, so the circumciser and the parents should have discussed pain relief before the procedure. If a topical pain relief is used, is will probably have been applied at least an hour before the circumcision. It is my belief, based on considerable research, that neither wine-soaked gauze nor topical pain relief is adequate and that only injectible pain relief is. You can discuss it with your circumciser, but many, especially those trained decades ago and who have performed hundreds, if not thousands, of circumcisions, may take issue with this and recommend a less effective pain relief. They may also brag about how quick they are. Frankly, I don’t think that a circumcision that is going to remove a foreskin forever has to be done in less than a few minutes, especially if the infant is administered adequate pain relief. Many infants will cry just because their limbs, used to being curled up inside the womb, are stretched. That’s why many circumcisers today will allow the parents or someone else to comfort the infant, especially an infant strapped to a board, and allow the infant’s arms to be free. 

After the circumcision procedure has been completed, which can take a few minutes or up to 20 minutes or so – depends on the technique, the circumciser and the pain relief – the circumciser holds up a goblet of Kosher wine, recites the traditional blessing, sips the wine, then places a drop or two of the wine on the infant’s lips (making the Jewish drinking age one of the youngest in the world!).

Now that the circumcision procedure is over, and the baby has been blessed, he is handed back to the sandek, who hands him back to one of his parents for another blessing. After that blessing, he is given his Hebrew name. Another blessing follows that: “May his parents raise him in the Jewish tradition, and may he be a credit to his name.” Everyone then shouts, “Mazel tov!” and the infant is handed back to a parent, who may place him in a crib filled with honey and sweets, as a token of the wish that this child will have a sweet life.

After the final blessings, everyone socializes, and enjoys a traditional Jewish meal, often fish or smoked salmon and bagels (for Ashkenazi Jews) or chickpeas and falafel (for Sephardic Jews), followed by schneken and other traditional Jewish pastries and desserts. While the circumcision itself can be difficult – even exceedingly difficult – to watch, this part of the bris is usually pure joy – at the birth of a healthy baby to welcome and at the joy of being together to celebrate that birth.

A little comparison now
As you can see, there are differences between a hospital circumcision and a Bris Milah. The rituals of the bris join an infant to a long, long chain of Jews, the “people of the book,” who honor learning, family, friends, community, and righteous living. In this way, a bris raises circumcision from a medical sphere and into a religious and cultural sphere. 

Yes, of course you can have a circumcision without a bris. It may have significance for you and your family, but honestly, without the blessings and rituals, the circumcision does not fulfill the Jewish Covenant of Circumcision. For Orthodox, and for many Conservative and other traditional Jews, and for Israeli rabbis, this omission is a big deal. Many Reform, Renewal, and other modern Jews keep the circumcision but often skip the bris  (as I and many of my friends at the time did), perhaps not appreciating its significance, or perhaps, because it seems to hard to manage a bris eight days after giving birth, or even perhaps because the grandparents live many states away or one parent is not Jewish or one or both are not observant, or for any number of other reasons. The purpose of this blog is not to tell you what to do, but to present all the options to help you make the best decision for you and your partner, and for your son, So even though I’m regretting omitting the bris doesn’t mean you have to carry my baggage around. I’m just glad my parents and my husband’s parents were cool enough not to make a big deal about it, at least to us, even if it might have been a big deal to them in private. What they did get were healthy grandchildren and now that I’m a grandmother myself, I see the wisdom and the joy in celebrating that, with or without a  bris

When a male is already circumcised
If a child is born without a foreskin, a rare occurrence but one that does occasionally happen, or if he was circumcised previously, such as my husband, who was adopted and came to his Jewish adoptive parents already circumcised, or if a circumcised man is converting to Judaism, a  bris, according to Jewish law, remains a religious requirement. Since a foreskin has already been removed, in this case, a drop of blood, to “seal the deal” of the covenant, is drawn, in a ritual called a hatafat dam, which in Hebrew means “shedding the blood of the covenant.” The reason for the hatafat dam, as you know by now, is that according to the traditional Jewish law, the sealing of the Covenant (“sealed in blood”) requires some bleeding, even if only a token few drops of blood. For it is the blood – not the removal of the foreskin – that seals the covenant, something that Jewish scholars argue about, Jewish parents sometimes agonize over, and converts to Judaism must consider, especially if they are thinking of emigrating to Israel, where only traditional conversions are counted as an adequate conversion to Judaism. (As I’ve discussed in previous blog entries, liberal Jews don’t require the bleeding, and in fact, the official position of the Union of Reform Jews (URJ) is that a hatafat dam is not required, nor are adult converts to Judaism even required to have a circumcision. 

A naming option
If your child was circumcised in the hospital, you may choose to skip the bris and have the infant be given his Jewish name in temple, on a Friday night or Saturday morning or at a holiday service, or even at a naming ceremony at home or elsewhere. While the ceremony is not a substitute for a bris, it can still be a ceremony to welcome your child’s Jewish soul. A big deal – even if it is not a bris

Twins and triplets
Twins, triplets and other multiple births are supposed to be circumcised – and named – in separate ceremonies. These ceremonies can take place on the same day, at the same event, but one child is blessed, circumcised, blessed again, named and blessed again before the other child is. And honestly, I don’t know if the order for this depends on their birth order or not. What I do know, however, is that if one child is born before sundown, and the other child born after sundown, on the same day, if you want to follow tradition, and the letter of Jewish law, then  one child’s bris will occur a day after his sibling’s. 

Given that I’ve put in my two cents already, about how I feel about a bris not being on par with a hospital or doctor’s office circumcision, and how I regret not having a bris for my own sons, I’m going to conclude this blog with this advice: It’s always better to “err” on the side of safety and here there isn’t really an error, because what you “fail” to do becomes your son’s responsibility later. If you are in an interfaith marriage, then perhaps it pays to “err” on the side of a bris and let everyone in the Jewish side of the family be relieved at the public display of Judaism. On the other hand, I never ever once doubted that my children were entirely Jewish because they didn’t have a bris and I still feel that way. In fact, I keep encouraging my youngest son to become a rabbi! But, as the saying goes, “I’ve learned something since then.” So what I’ve learned is that a bris is indeed a big deal to Jews, and has been for as long as the Jewish people have been in existence. 

At least don’t take the decision lightly and, too, have a better excuse than mine if you decide not to have one. 

 
You may be planning to circumcise your son because it seems the Jewish thing to do.” Now think about this: circumcision is a mitzvah, a commandment. Indeed, it is one of the most important commandments in Judaism. Some scholars say it is more important than all the other commandments combined (which is quite a claim – that circumcisi9on could be more important than, say, respecting one’s parents, not committing murder, or not committing adultery). Many regard it as more than a mitzvah. It is a commandment to honor a contract – a covenant – between God and a Jewish male. It is also a physical sign – on a penis! – that such a contract has been made. Further, the actual shedding of blood during the circumcision is what is considered the seal of the contract, making the covenant “sealed in blood.”

All the biblical covenants – including this Covenant of Abraham – are solemn agreements between God and the people of God. In each covenant, God makes promises to the people and commands certain behavior in return. For example, the covenant that God made after the Great Flood that destroyed nearly all human and animal life on earth is between God and all future people on earth. In contrast, the Covenant of Abraham (the circumcision covenant) is only between God and the Jewish people.

The Covenant of Abraham, which commands a Jewish father to circumcise his son, is in the Torah, in the book of Genesis, Chapter 17, verses 10 to 14. It is mentioned again, as a commandment, in the book of Leviticus, Chapter 12, when the laws that the Jewish people were commanded by God to obey were spelled out, at Mount Sinai, just before the Jews were able to enter the Promised Land of Canaan.

Defining covenant
A covenant is a special contract in which each participant agrees to fulfill his or her part of the agreement.

In the Covenant of Abraham, the father agrees to circumcise his son (or to appoint a substitute circumciser), and God promises to make of Abraham a great nation. If the father fails to fulfill the covenant, then the son, as an adult, is required to have himself circumcised. (Actually, the interpretation later was that if the father doesn’t do it or doesn’t appoint someone, the mother is supposed to do it or have it done. If she doesn’t, then the boy’s Jewish community has the responsibility. So, for example, when the Soviet Jews immigrated to the United States, most of whom were not circumcised, the Jewish community welcoming them made provisions for thousands of them to be circumcised.)

Circumcision marks the eternal covenant – the sacred agreement – between God and Abraham, and continuing, between God and Isaac, then between God and Isaac’s sons, then between God and every single male born to a Jewish parent or converted to Judaism – through the ages. Every single Jewish boy is included in this covenant, this agreement, with God.

If you are a lawyer, you will probably get the idea of covenant right away, but for me (a non-lawyer), it took a while to see how a covenant differs from an ordinary agreement or a contract between two parties. Covenants are special contracts between two or more parties. And that’s the distinction. 

In ancient times, a ceremony marked the agreement of a covenant, probably to ensure that each or all parties understood – and accepted – the seriousness of the covenant, and therefore would do their best to honor it. One common way to solemnize a covenant during Abraham’s time was to slaughter an animal, then spit the animal in half. Next, both parties to the agreement would pass between the two parts of the animal, to emphasize the seriousness of the covenant, and to signal that if either party broke the agreement, that party would be in deep trouble! After “sealing the covenant” in this manner, the parties involved often shared a celebratory meal. (Clearly this is an early example of the Jewish tradition of marking every event with food. Or, as the joke around Passover Seder goes, “They were slaves. They were freed. Now let’s eat!”) To return to the seriousness of the discussion, though, it is worth repeating: Circumcision is both the sign, as well as the seal, of the most essential contract between God and the Jewish people. 

The seal of a covenant
Today, a transaction between Jewish jewelers, in New York’s Diamond District, may be “sealed” with a handshake. An agreement to buy a 50-story office building, howe3ver, may be signed at a 5-hour – or longer – session between lawyers and bankers, and buyer and seller, an involve numerous documents, signed and witnessed, and sometimes sealed by a Notary (an official sealer of documents). In Abraham’s day, deals were often sealed with a cut that produced blood. This could be because many people didn’t know how to write; therefore, sealing an agreement in blood took the place of their signatures.)

You may be thinking that a Torah covenant sounds like a legal contract, and it does because it is. But covenants in Torah carry more significance than a mere legal contract. The relationship between the parties runs deeper. Let’s say we sign a contract to buy a house. While both parties – seller and buyer – are expected to fulfill their end of the deal, there is no requirement of a warm, friendly, protective and lasting relationship between them. In contract, a marriage between two people is a contract, and is also a covenant because there is more to the union than a mere contract. The covenant of marriage implies a deep, loving relationship between two people. So to sum this up, what distinguishes a covenant from an ordinary legal contract or mere agreement is the understanding that this is a special agreement, one not to be taken lightly. And, moreover, it is an agreement based on trust, sincerity, and faith.

Other covenants in the Torah
The early history of the Jewish people – as told in the Bible – tells of a series of covenants made by God. The first covenant was with Adam. Later covenants were with Noah, then with Abraham, then with Jacob, with Moses, and with King David. After each covenant, the people (being human) failed to fulfill their part, a failure that angered God. After punishment for breaking the covenant (in Adam’s case, it was exile from Eden; in Noah’s, the Great Flood, and so on), the people pleaded with God for forgiveness. And God offered a new covenant.

The covenant with Noah. As in marriage, God became a partner in a loving relationship with all of humanity. But when the people angered God, by returning to their ways of wickedness, God sent the Great Flood to destroy all life on Earth. He spared only Noah and Noah’s family and the animals on the Ark from this decree, this penultimate punishment. The human side of this deal was to obey what came to be known as the “Seven Laws of Noah.” These seven laws are:
  • Do not murder another human being and have respect for life.
  • Abstain from adultery and other sexual acts condemned by God.
  • Do not worship idols.
  • Do not steal.
  • Do not blaspheme God.
  • Do not eat the flesh of an animal while it is still alive. (In other words, you can’t tear the limb off a live animal in order to eat that limb.)
  • Establish courts of justice.


These fundamental, ethical laws were intended to apply to everyone – on earth. Accepting them, and living according to them, is what makes a person a righteous human being. This is because, Jews believe, that God means for every single human being to have respect for: life, religion, family, property; to avoid cruelty to humans and animals; and to pursue justice. 

The sign for this covenant is the rainbow. Why a rainbow? Because the rays of the sun shine through the water drops in the sky and bend and separate into different colors – like humanity, with its different skin shades, its different cultures and its individuals, all of whom are different and unique. Still, there is only one light behind the rainbow, just as there is only one God, whose love unites every human being on Earth. This Covenant of Noah, therefore, is between God and all people, not just between God and the Jewish people.

The next covenant mentioned in the Torah. Fast forward about 10 generations, and we arrive at the life of Abraham and the creation of the Covenant of Circumcision, or the Covenant of Abraham, as it is also known. The tricky part of this covenant is that God commanded that men, not women, carry the sign of the covenant on their bodies. Even though women are part of humanity, they are not required to have the “seal of the covenant” on their bodies. Why were they not included? Actually, this is a great question and one that modern women especially, including female rabbis, female mohels (called mohelim), and many Jewish mothers, ask. This is addressed in a future blog but if you are interested in learning about it now, read the book by Shaye Cohen, Why Aren’t Jewish Women Circumcised? Gender and Covenant in Judaism, published by University of California Press, in 2005. 

Now, back to Abraham! According to the Covenant of Abraham, all Jewish infant boys are to be circumcised by their father or by a substitute. Since an infant cannot be responsible for agreeing to a contract, or signing a covenant, a father or mother, or the parents’ Jewish community, is responsible for seeing that the infant is circumcised. A Jewish male who was not circumcised as an infant – and who has no medical condition making circumcision dangerous to him – is expected to get himself circumcised when he becomes an adult. It’s been this way since the beginning of Jewish history, is this way now, and, according to a number of rabbis and Jewish scholars my coauthor and I interviewed, it will be this way for a long time to come, despite questions and arguments put forth by those who oppose circumcision, some who are Jewish and some who are not.

Again (because it is important to understand if you decide to circumcise your son for Jewish reasons), a covenant is a promise between two parties – each party promising to fulfill certain conditions. When two people wed, they agree to the covenant of marriage, and the sing of that covenant between them is a ring. The sign of the covenant that God made with Noah and humanity is the rainbow. And the sign of the covenant between God and Abraham and all Jewish men is a circumcision.

Why is the covenant between Abraham and God sealed with circumcision?
Long before the establishment of Judaism, circumcision rituals existed in many cultures, and were definitely practiced in the Fertile Crescent, the area of the world where Judaism was founded. In Egypt, for example, the earliest known depiction of a circumcision was found on a cave. Dating to about 2,400 B.C.E., it shows an Egyptian temple priest cutting the genitals of two young men. But other ancient peoples, in various areas of the world, also practiced circumcision, albeit for different reasons. In Egypt, the origins of the practice may have been rooted in a search for purity and perfection. In other cultures, circumcision may have been a rite of passage into adulthood (and therefore, was often done at puberty or when a man was being initiated into a tribe as a warrior). Elsewhere, circumcision served as tribal identification, perhaps as a symbolic substitute for human sacrifice, including the custom of sacrificing a first-born child in order to “please the gods” and perhaps, to ensure the health of subsequent children.

Some scholars believe that circumcision was used for hygiene. Others suggest it was to make a man more fertile, that cutting off the tip of a foreskin enhanced his ability to achieve erections, that semen would not be trapped in a foreskin, and that the male would be less vulnerable to infections, especially sexually transmitted infections, that could harm his penis and prevent pregnancy. And a frequent suggestion is that circumcision was believed to help a male control his sexual impulses (something I’ll discuss in a another blog entry, by the way.) Whatever its origins were, circumcision was widely practiced throughout the ancient world, and is, in fact, the earliest known elective or plastic surgery.

A circumcision did – and does not – make a person Jewish, not even in the time of Abraham. After all, Ishmael was circumcised, and while God promised him much progeny and a great nation, God did not promise to include Ishmael in the nation of Jews. Ishmael’s progeny founded Islam (which is why Islam is called one of the Abrahamic religions, since Ishmael’s father was Abraham). Still, as Professor Sander Gilman suggests, “Circumcision defines the Jew, and the Jew defines circumcision.” While circumcision does not make a person Jewish, it does “mark” a person as Jewish – if he is Jewish.

The deal between God and Abraham
God sets forth the term of the covenant. God promises to give Abraham exceedingly numerous offspring. He also promises that those offspring will someday become a nation, with a land of its own (which is why Israel is often called the “Promised” Land, based on that promise of God). Abraham’s people, the Jews, in turn, must try to transform themselves (through discipline and self-control) and, in addition, transform the world (through Tikkun olam, righteous acts). What do the Jews promise God? To study Torah, to serve God, and to do good deeds – Tsedakah – all of which can bring justice and righteousness into the world.

For thousands of years, Jewish males (except weak or ill infants, or those living under repressive regimes) were expected to be circumcised. And while the Jewish soul is said to enter an infant at the time of his circumcision and his Hebrew naming, the responsibility of a Jewish man to observe the covenant between him and God continues throughout his entire life. Circumcision is a serious, solemn promise that Jews, starting with Abraham, have given – for themselves and their children and their children’s children.

Why is that part of the body to mark the deal?
For fertility. A serious promise needs a serious ceremony to seal it, and perhaps no body part is more significant to a man than his penis. Or perhaps the seal of the covenant is on the penis because it relates to God’s promise to make the Jews fertile – to make them “exceedingly numerous.”

Circumcision was believed to enhance fertility. In biblical days (and even now, on the kibbutz, as I mentioned in an earlier post, I pruned the lemon tree saplings in order to enhance their productivity later), men pruned fruit trees by cutting off extra branches to make the branches left more fruitful. The young trees were pruned for three successive years, during which time no one picked their fruit. In the fourth year, the fruit could be picked and given to the temple priests to consumer. Only in the fifth year, could the fruit be picked and eaten by anyone.

Jewish circumcision in ancient times removed only the tip of the foreskin that extended beyond the glans of the penis. Yet it is the tip, with its ridged band only there, which can be too tight to allow an erection and therefore allow a man to achieve a pregnancy in his wife. (And remember, in those days, no one knew that ovaries produce eggs. Rather it was thought that a man planted a “seed’ into a woman, which eventually grew into a baby.) There are other reasons that a foreskin can prevent an erection, mainly that it is still attached to the glans, but a tight tip is one of the most common reasons and the ancients seem to know that.

To control lust. Perhaps the covenant is sealed on the penis because that is the most important part of a man’s anatomy (aside from his brain?) in other ways beyond fertility. As Rabbi Michael Gold suggests, “We cannot transform the world until we learn to transform ourselves. Human perfection begins with self-control. The symbol of the covenant is placed right on the organ that most needs self-control.” Circumcision was thought to help a man be righteous and to help him improve his self-discipline and self-control. As circumcision was believed to decrease a man’s lusty, it could enable him to honor God’s commandment.

To improve the Jewish people’s chance of survival. Some uncircumcised men have foreskins that are too tight – or too long – to be pulled back during an erection. Or the foreskin  may still be stuck on the penis, which also prevents erections. Whatever the medical reason, people of the time may have concluded that a male with a slightly shortened foreskin (because, remember that they didn’t remove the entire foreskin but only removed its tip), or later, when they removed the entire foreskin, would have far fewer problems achieving an erection. In this way fertility for the Jewish people would be improved. Hygiene, also, was thought to be easier for circumcised men, in those days before indoor plumbing.

To make the world perfect. Another traditional suggestion is related to the idea of making the world perfect. Naturalists and pantheists (those who worship God through nature) may believe that nature is already perfect, that we are perfect just as we are born (we trust that none use makeup, have cosmetic surgery, or construct fake waterfalls in their backyards). But Jews believe that while God may be perfect, the world is not yet perfect. Circumcision may bring Jewish males closer to the perfection of God.

A symbolic meaning. As noted earlier, circumcision of the foreskin might have been a substitute for animal sacrifice or sacrifice of the first-born son. In some ancient cultures, when a man struggled to please or placate the gods, or a particular god a particular man worshipped, he might sacrifice his firstborn child, hoping that the god would then spare his later children either sickness or death. As in the story of Abraham, rather than sacrifice the child’s life, the only sacrifice was a part of the child’s foreskin – in those days, considered to be a great deal (small patch of skin for the entire person!). 

Why observe the Covenant of Circumcision?
If you are Jewish, and don’t believe in God, why commit to a promise to God? (I have to be honest and tell you this true story. I was at a cousin’s Passover Seder a few years ago. I asked everyone there – nine adults – who believed, for sure, in God. Many entertained the possibility and were there agnostics. A few were atheists who embraced Jewish ethics and Jewish laws and liked identifying with their Jewish families and communities. But if the truth be known, only one person that night knew for sure that God exists. Who was that person? The Presbyterian spouse of one of the Jewish guests!) Given how many Jewish parents, especially after the ordeal of the Holocaust and especially that most atheists happen to be the most educated and that the vast majority of Jewish adults have at least a college degree (according to my friend Joshua Halberstam, Ph.D., author of the fabulous book Schmoozing: The Private Conversation of American Jews. Indeed, nearly one out of three Nobel Prize winners is Jewish. So it wasn’t surprising to find out how many Jews doubt the existence of God but still embrace many of the laws, morals, and traditions of Judaism. Yeah, I know, “go figure,” as Yentyl might have said. “Go figure.” Back to circumcision. Even if you don’t believe in God, you might choose to circumcise your son believing there are health benefits or cultural reasons. Or you might circumcise because you want your son to “look Jewish’ to fit into with his Jewish family and community. Or you may want to honor or maintain an ethnic or cultural identity, or preserve a Jewish tradition that is thousands of years old. 

If, however, you circumcise because you believe in the Covenant of Circumcision, then remember that the procedure is a solemn sealing of the deal. Just as ancient people walking between two halves of a sacrificial animal were reminded (and it would be hard for them to forget) of their commitment, witnessing a son’s circumcision at a bris is surely a potent reminder that the son is Jewish. I just went to my cousin’s grandson’s bris. In fact, I was one of three “official” witnesses to the circumcision, who afterwards signed the document attesting to it. The mohel accomplished the circumcision rather swiftly, the infant had a stiff erection during the entire procedure (one I hope I can forget at his Bar Mitzvah but I’m not sure that will be possible!). His mother is Jewish; his father is not but has committed to having him raised Jewish and therefore was quite supportive of the covenant. And I have to tell you, that witnessing the solemn circumcision and blessings and naming did indeed feel like an important, highly important, solemn, serious, intention to raise this boy as a Jew. I could see the psychological and cultural and religious significance of the occasion and of the actual circumcision. It’s one thing to discuss, in the abstract, and quite another thing to witness. I know that witnessing a circumcision turns some people off and even makes them activists against it. But for me, it was seemed to put me back into Biblical days, into days when circumcision was in defiance of those who wanted to convert all Jews and end Judaism, in fact, into the present, when in an interfaith marriage, as is so common today, it is such an affirmation of the intention to raise this infant as a Jewish infant. Still, it’s your decision and I can fully respect those parents who decide not to circumcise their infants. In fact, I think (or maybe I am rationalizing!) that not circumcising a Jewish infant puts more responsibility – not less – on the parent to give that child a Jewish education, a Jewish home, and strive in other ways to keep that child Jewish, in ways that secular Jews who do have their sons circumcised but then neglect to remember the Sabbath, the holiest of Jewish holidays.

Certainly – or rather, hopefully – witnessing a son’s circumcision, especially at a bris with family and friends present, is surely a potent reminder that the boy is Jewish. And a reminder, too, of what being Jewish really means – the commitment to Jewish ideals, to service to humanity, and to believe in justice, equality, and access to a decent standard of living for all.

Another reason to keep the covenant of circumcision comes from Orthodox teachings and from Kabbalah (mystical Judaism), which is to keep the soul in touch with the Jewish nation. Or rather, to prevent it from karet – from being “cut off” from the Jewish people, and, as some believe, from the perfect world-to-come. (Yes, anti-circs, I see the irony here of cutting off the foreskin to keep the child from being cut off Jewish people). (More about that in a subsequent blog article.)

One last cultural comment, which is: What is abhorrent to one culture may be acceptable to another, but that acceptance does not make it universally acceptable. So while some cultures tolerate killing and consuming dogs, others are horrified at the thought and deed. Perhaps male circumcision will one day be placed in the universal category of unacceptable cultural rituals, the way slavery has been placed, for example, and the way female circumcision is regarded by many (to be universally wrong). Whether or not circumcision of males survives the next four thousand or so years of Judaism or life on Earth, what is to be hoped for is that the original mission of the Covenant of Abraham – the mission all Jews inherit from their religion and culture, is the mission to study and learn, the mission to help others and, especially, the mission to live a righteous life. That, after all, is the true Abrahamic legacy.

A few interesting comments that are off the main subject
Hanukkah. Next time you celebrate Hanukkah and remember the victory of the Maccabees over their Syrian-Greek overlords, remember that part of the reason for their revolt was because circumcision had been outlawed. A woman, in fact, was lead around the city with her circumcised infant, then the infant was thrown over a wall, to his death, and his mother, too, was murdered. The holiday of Hanukkah, therefore, celebrates not just the overarching victory of the Maccabees, but also their reclaiming of their right to circumcise their infant sons.

The Christian departure from circumcising foreskins. “I will put my Law in their minds. And in their hearts I will write it, and I will be their God, and they shall be My people.” That’s from the book Jeremiah, Chapter l31, Verses 30 to 32. It’s actually a quotation about circumcision of the heart, rather than circumcision of the foreskin. Christians, starting, or especially, with Simon, the Jewish man who became a member of the Christian Jews and then proposed doing away with circumcision of foreskins altogether in favor of this circumcision of the heart (which became the basis for the baptism ceremony marking a child’s birth and marking conversion to Christianity). Simon’s name was changed to Paul, best known as the Apostle Paul, who also proposed remembering their Jewish roots, but becoming an altogether separate religion, known from then on as Christianity and not Christian Judaism. 

This new covenant – the covenant of purifying the heart and not the penis – became (and remains) a pillar of Christian faith. Brit Hadasha literally means “New Covenant, and New Testament comes form the Greek word for “new covenant.” Most of the tensions that grew between Christians and Jews, at least during the time immediately after the rise of Christianity in Europe and elsewhere, stemmed from the tradition that Judaism respects the Covenant of Circumcision. Christians believe that the Covenant of Circumcision became obsolete with the arrival of Jesus Christ, the Christian messiah.

What to make of all this? As I said, the circumcision at a traditional Jewish bris certainly lets you know where you stand with your religion and your tradition. No getting away from that. And that is what the original Covenant of Abraham was meant to do – make a strong commitment, a strong deal, to have that deal with God to walk in God’s ways and be a righteous human being. 

I fess up, as I have before, that out of tradition my husband and I did have our son’s circumcised, but did not have it done on the 8th day, at a bris, with Jewish prayers and blessings. Nor were we even present. And I have regrets, admittedly not deep regrets because we did go on to give each son a Jewish education, a Bar Mitzvah and even the habit of lighting Sabbath candles and remembering to keep the Sabbath, though in a very liberal, modern Reform Jewish way (if the truth be known). So my advice is to understand the covenant, that if you are Jewish, and if you are going to circumcise your son for religious reasons, then to do it at a bris. Remember that a quorum of 10 adults – a minyan – is not required. What is required, however, is some blood shed (remember the sealing of the deal is based on the blood shed and not necessarily the actual cut), certain Hebrew prayers and blessings to be recited by someone Jewish, and a commitment – from the parents – to raise their son Jewish. If you aren’t going to make that commitment, but still want a circumcision for cultural or other reasons, then the bris isn’t necessary. Still, I advocate waiting the 8 days because it gives the baby and mother a chance to bond, the mother a chance to recover from childbirth (and the child to recover, too), a chance to find out if (hopefully not) there is a bleeding disorder or other reason not to circumcise. By 8 days, most infants are gaining weight and not losing weight. And insurance should still cover the circumcision, which is usually just a few hundred dollars at most. Mohels may charge more – and may not be covered by your insurance, but honestly, that is not really a topic for this blog article. So to sum it up – before your decision to circumcise or to leave your infant intact, or if you are reading this to understand and perhaps to respect another person’s decision, then understand that why circumcision is so essential to Judaism and to individual Jewish parents and to individual Jewish men. And why a covenant is so much more than a mere shaking of the hands or even a typical legal document that can be contested or broken. Once circumcised, the deal is done! And maybe the ancients understood that – once marked as a member of the Jewish tribe a man was less likely to leave it or even take it for granted. Some men do leave and most modern Jewish men don’t wake up in the morning, look at their circumcised penis and remind themselves to follow Jewish laws.  Nor does an infant remember his circumcision or bris. But his parents will remember it and they are responsible for his Jewishness during the first part of his life. And the covenant is as much for them as it is between God and him, if I understand it correctly. And if I don’t, well, leave your comments and like the good Jewish student I’ve learned to be, I’m going to look at both minority and majority opinions!