The festival of Pesach is intrinsically connected to the mitzvah of circumcision, more so than any other Jewish holiday. It is highlighted in the Torah reading on the first day and resonates within the thematic fabric of the Haftarah. In ancient times, participation in Pesach’s celebratory rituals, particularly eating the Paschal Lamb, was exclusive to those who had undergone circumcision.
Circumcision stands as the most significant symbol in Judaism, unparalleled in its observance throughout history. From the Samaritans and Sadducees of antiquity to the Karaites of later periods, every faction has embraced this rite. This mitzvah, which is referenced alongside the Covenant between God and the Jewish people at least thirteen times in scriptural texts, is believed to be the eternal guarantor of Jewish identity and sanctity. Rabbi Shlomo Goren and other scholars have posited that circumcision’s central aim is to solidify the Jewish people as an enduring, separate entity – the people of the Covenant and a holy nation.
Even the excommunicated philosopher Spinoza acknowledged the potent and enduring effect of circumcision, suggesting that it alone has the power to sustain the distinctiveness of the Jewish people indefinitely. Maimonides (Rambam) observed that circumcision fortifies internal unity and safeguards against external threats, creating a protective barrier against infiltration by those who do not share the belief in God’s unity.
The extraordinary influence of the mitzvah of circumcision is, I believe, derived from its non-voluntary nature. Save for proselytes, the Jewish individual does not elect this rite. One must question why choice is removed from such a pivotal commandment and why it is not postponed until a child reaches the age of Bar Mitzvah, like other commandments.
Rabbi Yechiel Michael Epstein, in his seminal Aruch Hashulchan, elucidates that the essentiality of circumcision transcends personal choice. He contends that if circumcision were merely an individual command, it would have been deferred until the age of thirteen. Instead, it is performed at the tender age of eight days, a time when the parental bond is still nascent, thus facilitating the fulfillment of the mitzvah with less emotional turmoil.
Many rabbis and scholars have sought to uncover deeper meanings within this mitzvah. While some argue that its reasons are beyond human comprehension and classify it as a ‘chok’, a law unfathomable and absolute, necessitating unquestioning adherence, Others, most famously Rabbi Akiva provided a profound answer to Turnus Rufus’s challenge about God’s intentions, stating that the uncompleted nature of man invites us to partner with God in our own creation, completing His work.
This collaboration in perfecting ourselves embodies the Jewish religious quest for ‘sh’lemut’, wholeness. It teaches that humanity has a role in the continued act of creation, as emphasized in the closing verse of the Creation narrative. Here, the Torah implies that Abraham achieved perfection not at his choosing but through circumcision, in partnership with the Divine.
Addressing recent debates, those questioning the continuation of circumcision often stand outside traditional Jewish communities. These individuals, while identifying with Jewish culture, do not feel beholden to the covenant. Nevertheless, for those committed to the commandments, such discussions are extraneous.
Acknowledging the baby’s discomfort, Ashkenazic tradition refrains from reciting the Shehecheyanu blessing during the Brit Milah, empathising with the infant’s cries. The inherent risk of the procedure is minimal, yet the solemnity and apprehension accompanying it affirm its divine origin and the profundity of the covenant.
The health implications of circumcision have been contested for years. While some advocate for its benefits in preventing diseases, others remain sceptical. Despite varying medical stances, the Jewish belief in the divine wisdom of the Torah transcends these health debates.
In secular contexts, attitudes toward circumcision fluctuate. The American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP), for instance, has evolved in its recommendations over the years. The British Royal Family’s historical use of a Jewish mohel underscores a recognition of specialist expertise in this religious rite. It must be emphasized that a Brit performed by a secular surgeon does not suffice in Jewish law; it must be carried out with intent and reverence for the mitzvah.
In conclusion, the act of circumcision is not just a command but an intimate act of faith, bonding the individual and the community to their collective past and to the enduring covenant with God. It is a tradition laden with profound meaning, shaped by the continuous interpretation and understanding of our sages and thinkers. Each Passover, as we recount our forebears’ exodus and redemption, we are reminded of this unbreakable link—a bond forged in the flesh, preserved in the spirit, and celebrated through the generations.