Mishneh Torah, Circumcision 2-3

Hook

(Sings, with a big, warm smile and a sway) "Oh, S'lichot, S'lichot, the gates are open wide! Oh, S'lichot, S'lichot, come on and step inside!"

Hey, camp-fam! Remember those late-night S'lichot programs, all huddled together, singing our hearts out under the stars? Or maybe it was that chant around the campfire, "Light one candle for me, I'll light one for you, together we'll shine as we always do!" That feeling of being part of something bigger, a sacred chain, a covenant – it’s pure camp magic, right? Well, today we’re taking that campfire energy and bringing it right into our homes, our lives, and diving into a text that’s all about covenant, commitment, and how we keep that flame alive. We're talking Brit Milah – not just the medical procedure, but the deep, foundational Jewish experience, straight from the Rambam's Mishneh Torah. It’s got all the practical stuff, but also some incredible insights into what it means to be a link in that chain. Get ready for some serious Torah warmth!

Context

Let's set the scene for this deep dive into Rambam's Mishneh Torah, all about Brit Milah (circumcision). Think of it like a trail map for a hike – we need to know where we're going and why!

• The Blueprint of Jewish Life: The Rambam, Maimonides, wasn't just writing a rulebook; he was mapping out the entire landscape of Jewish law, from prayer to purity. His Mishneh Torah is a monumental guide, designed to be clear and comprehensive, allowing anyone to understand halakha (Jewish law). It's like the ultimate wilderness survival guide for the Jewish soul.
• A Foundation of Identity: Brit Milah is one of the very first mitzvot given to Abraham, marking the covenant between God and the Jewish people. It’s not just a sign; it’s an active participation in our heritage, a physical reminder etched into our very being. It’s like the roots of an ancient redwood tree – unseen, perhaps, but absolutely essential for the tree's towering strength and longevity.
• Beyond the Mohel: This text doesn't just focus on the ideal mohel (the person who performs the circumcision). It delves into who can perform it, under what circumstances, and the specific steps involved, including the blessings. It’s about the spirit of the mitzvah being fulfilled, even when circumstances aren't perfect.

Text Snapshot

Here’s a glimpse into the Rambam's world of Brit Milah:

"Circumcision may be performed by anyone... Even a person who is himself not circumcised, a slave, a woman, or a minor may perform the circumcision, if an adult male is not present... A gentile, however, should not be allowed to perform the circumcision at all... Nevertheless, if he does so, there is no need for a second circumcision."

(Short, sing-able line suggestion: "L'shem mitzvat milah, kol Yisrael arevim zeh la'zeh!" – "For the mitzvah of circumcision, all of Israel are guarantors for one another!")

Close Reading

Alright, let's pull up our chairs closer to the "campfire" and dig into the heart of this text. The Rambam, in his incredibly structured way, gives us so much more than just instructions for a brit. He’s painting a picture of community, commitment, and the power of a mitzvah itself.

Insight 1: The Power of Community and "Good Enough"

The Rambam opens with a truly radical statement: "Circumcision may be performed by anyone... Even a person who is himself not circumcised, a slave, a woman, or a minor may perform the circumcision, if an adult male is not present." Wait, what?! A woman? A child? Someone uncircumcised?! This feels counter-intuitive to our modern sensibilities, where we emphasize highly trained professionals for delicate procedures. But the Rambam is making a profound point about the mitzvah itself.

The Ohr Sameach commentary on this very passage brings in the story of Tziporah, Moses's wife, performing the milah on their son Eliezer with a flint rock (Exodus 4:25). The Gemara (Avodah Zarah 27a, referenced by Ohr Sameach) even suggests that she began the circumcision, and Moses finished it. This is a powerful model for us: the mitzvah is so critical, so foundational, that it takes precedence over ideal conditions. If the "perfect" mohel isn't available, or if there are other constraints, the community steps up. Tziporah, a woman, performed this life-saving act for her son, and it was accepted. This wasn't just a "good enough" scenario; it was a testament to the urgency and intrinsic value of the mitzvah. The mitzvah is calling, and whoever is able to answer, even if they're not the "primary" or "most qualified" person, should.

Translating to Home/Family Life: How often in our family lives do we wait for the "perfect" moment, the "perfect" person, or the "perfect" resources to engage in Jewish practice? Maybe you want to light Shabbat candles, but you don't have fancy candlesticks, or you're not sure you know all the blessings by heart. Or you want to learn Torah with your kids, but you don't feel like you know enough, or you're waiting for a formal class. The Rambam and the story of Tziporah challenge us: the mitzvah itself is what's paramount. The act of bringing holiness into your home, of connecting with tradition, is so important that if you're the only one there, or the "most available" one, you can and should do it. Your efforts, even if not "perfect" by some external standard, are deeply valued. Perhaps your child starts a d'var Torah idea, and you help them flesh it out. Or your spouse leads Kiddush when you're feeling unwell. This isn't about lowering standards, but about empowering every member of the family to be a contributor, a co-creator of Jewish life, understanding that the collective effort to fulfill a mitzvah is what truly matters. We are all "links in the chain," and sometimes, a crucial link needs to be forged by the most unexpected hands. It's about teamwork, stepping up, and remembering that the goal is to keep the flame of Yiddishkeit burning brightly, no matter what.

Insight 2: Intention vs. Action – The Enduring Effect of a Mitzvah

The text then presents a fascinating conundrum: "A gentile, however, should not be allowed to perform the circumcision at all... Nevertheless, if he does so, there is no need for a second circumcision." On one hand, a gentile is explicitly forbidden from performing a brit. On the other hand, if they do, the physical act is considered done, and no second milah is required (though hatafat dam brit, extracting a drop of blood, is often done today). This seems like a contradiction. Why forbid it so strongly, only to validate the outcome?

The Yitzchak Yeranen commentary (and Kessef Mishneh cited in the footnotes) explains that this hinges on whether milah requires lishma – "for the sake of the mitzvah." Rambam seems to hold that while it’s ideal to have the mitzvah performed with specific Jewish intent, the physical act of circumcision itself, once done correctly, fulfills the halakhic requirement for the physical state of being circumcised. The prohibition against a gentile performing it is about who is commanded to perform the mitzvah, not necessarily about the efficacy of the physical outcome. The act creates a physical reality that aligns with the covenant, even if the intent of the actor wasn't fully aligned with the mitzvah's spiritual purpose.

The Rambam also passionately underscores the profound significance of Brit Milah: "How disgusting is the foreskin that is used as a term of deprecation with regard to the gentiles... How great is the circumcision! Behold, our Patriarch Abraham was not called 'perfect' until he was circumcised... Anyone who breaks the covenant... does not have a portion in the world to come... Moses, our teacher, was not granted even a temporary respite from [fulfilling this mitzvah]." This powerful language reveals that while the technical act is important, the meaning and commitment behind it are even more so. The physical act is a gateway to a deeper covenantal relationship. It’s like setting up a tent in the wilderness: you need the poles and the canvas (the act), but the real mitzvah is the shelter and community it creates.

Translating to Home/Family Life: In our homes, we often grapple with the tension between "doing" and "meaning." Maybe we set a beautiful Shabbat table, but our minds are elsewhere, distracted by the week's worries. Or we say a blessing over food, but we're just rushing through the words. The Rambam teaches us that while ideal intention (the lishma) is always the goal, the physical act itself carries inherent weight and can still create a sacred space or fulfill a mitzvah. Even if a Shabbat meal doesn't feel perfectly spiritual every single week, the act of gathering, lighting candles, and making Kiddush still grounds us. It establishes a rhythm, a framework, a "covenant" within our family life.

This insight encourages us to perform mitzvot consistently, even when our spiritual "mojo" isn't at its peak. The doing can lead to the meaning. Just as the physical milah transforms the baby, the consistent performance of mitzvot can transform us and our families. It builds spiritual muscle memory. Over time, the physical acts of Jewish life – lighting candles, making Kiddush, saying Modeh Ani, giving tzedakah – create a "circumcised" Jewish home, a space dedicated to holiness. And when we do bring our full intention, our lishma, to these acts, the experience becomes even more profound. It reminds us that even when external circumstances aren't ideal, or our internal state isn't perfectly aligned, the act of engaging with mitzvot is a powerful, covenantal anchor. The "physical reality" of the mitzvah endures, inviting us to grow into its deeper meaning.

(Sings softly, a niggun, then, with a gentle smile: "L'shem mitzvat milah... the covenant lives within us.")

Micro-Ritual

Let's bring that camp spirit of community and intention right into our Friday night or Havdalah! This week, we’re going to borrow a little something from the Brit Milah ceremony itself.

The "Covenant Keeper" Blessing: At a brit, after the mohel's blessing, the father recites a special blessing: "Blessed are You, God, our Lord, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to have our children enter the covenant of Abraham, our Patriarch." And then, everyone present responds: "Just as you have brought him into the covenant, so, too, may you bring him to Torah, marriage, and good deeds."

This week, during Kiddush on Friday night, or as part of Havdalah, let’s adapt this!

• Friday Night: After Kiddush, when you say "Shabbat Shalom" to your family, or before you start the meal, take a moment. You (or whoever is leading) can say: "Just as we enter the covenant of Shabbat each week, so too may we be brought to Torah, to loving connection, and to good deeds in the week ahead." You can even invite others to respond "Amen, v'ken yehi ratzon!" (Amen, and may it be God's will!).
• Havdalah: At the very end of Havdalah, after the candle is extinguished and before you sing "Eliyahu Hanavi," hold hands or put an arm around each other. The leader says: "Just as we renew our covenant with God's presence this week, so too may we be brought to Torah, to loving connection, and to good deeds in the week ahead." Again, a communal "Amen!" would be wonderful.

This is a simple way to bring a powerful Brit Milah blessing into your home. It’s a moment of shared intention, a verbal reaffirmation of your family's commitment to Jewish values, and a recognition that every week is an opportunity to strengthen your own "covenant" with Jewish life. It echoes the communal "amen" at a brit, connecting your home practice to the broader tapestry of Jewish tradition. It's about consciously bringing that sacred purpose, that lishma, into the everyday, making your home a mini-camp for covenant-keeping!

Chevruta Mini

Grab a partner, or just think to yourself! Let's reflect on this "campfire Torah" together.

1. The Rambam allows "anyone" (even a woman or uncircumcised Jew) to perform a brit milah if an adult male isn't present. Where in your life have you seen or experienced a "non-ideal" situation where the spirit of a mitzvah (or any important value) was prioritized over perfect conditions? What was the outcome, and what did you learn from it?
2. The text highlights the tension between the physical act of milah (even if performed by a gentile, it counts physically) and the profound spiritual meaning/intention behind it. How do you balance the "doing" of Jewish rituals and traditions in your home with the "meaning" and intention behind them? Can one lead to the other, or do you find one more challenging than the other?

Takeaway

Wow, what a journey into the Rambam's world of Brit Milah! From the surprising flexibility of "who can perform" to the unwavering emphasis on the mitzvah's ultimate power, we've seen that the covenant isn't fragile. It's resilient, adaptable, and deeply embedded in our collective soul. The physical act of milah is a profound, non-negotiable anchor, a sign of our eternal bond with God. But the Rambam reminds us that this covenant is also sustained by community, by stepping up even when we don't feel perfectly qualified, and by consistently engaging with our traditions, knowing that the "doing" itself is a powerful act of connection. So go forth, camp-alum, and let your home be a vibrant, covenant-filled space, where every act of Jewish living, big or small, strengthens that unbreakable chain! Keep shining that light!