By Laura Weisskopf Bleill
When my daughters were born, I breathed a sigh of relief. Not because I didn’t want boys — but because I wouldn’t be subjected to having a zillion of my nearest and dearest in my house eight days postpartum for the religious ritual known as a bris.
Of course brit milah (literally covenant of circumcision) is many things. Primarily it is the celebration of the birth of a Jewish baby boy, one where he receives his name and is welcomed into the community with lots of food (bagels, there has to be bagels), friends and family. But deconstruct the hoopla, and a bris is one of the most solemn lifecycle events in Judaism. Circumcision was the first commandment that G-d gave to Abraham, and it symbolizes the covenant between the Jewish people and G-d that has been practiced for more than 4,000 years.
I’m not here to get into an argument about whether or not circumcision is “unnecessary” or necessary; “brutal” or benign; or whether it has health benefits or if those have been “mostly discredited.” Those adjectives in quotes, by the way, were used in an anti-circumcision letter to the editor printed in Wednesday’s News-Gazette (unavailable online); it was a response to a recent article about a local bris. I have no problem with people expressing an opinion, but the letter became offensive when it veered into the territory of saying that Jewish parents practice the tradition based on “misguided religious justification.”
The fact of the matter is that circumcision is central to Jewish identity. For many years, even well into modernity, the act of circumcision remained constant among Jews – no matter their level of observance. While more and more Jews are questioning the practice — as is their right (we Jews like to question things) — that doesn’t diminish its significant place in our history as well as our future.
The fact of the matter is, it hasn’t always been easy to be a Jew or to identify yourself as a Jew in this world. In doing some research for this column, I was reminded of the wonderful movie Europa, Europa — a true story about a young Jewish boy who posed as a member of the Hitler youth to survive in Nazi Germany. Several points in the film where he must undress before Germans reinforce his true identity as a Jew. Fortunately, his story had a happy ending; he survived the Holocaust and lived out his life in Israel.
When my girls were born, I indeed breathed a sigh of relief. Barely a week postpartum, I was in no shape to handle guests. More significantly, no mother wants to cause pain to their newborn — but I cry when my kids get shots.
But there is no question in my mind what we would have done had we been blessed with a son. And if being proud of my identity is “misguided,” then I’m thankful my family lives in a country where we’re free to make that choice and not have to worry that we might be persecuted for it.
Laura Weisskopf Bleill, a co-founder of chambanamoms.com, could go for a glass of wine right now. She writes “Being a Jew in C-U,” a column about being a Jewish suburban girl in a cornfield, on Thursdays. You can reach her at laura@chambanamoms.com.