Mishneh Torah, Circumcision 2-3

Hook

Feel the warmth of the shamash's candle flickering in a Moroccan synagogue, casting long shadows on ancient tapestries. Hear the deep, resonant voice of the hazzan, chanting piyutim that carry echoes of Andalusia and Babylon, praising the Hashem who sanctified His people with the brit milah. This is not just a ceremony; it is a tapestry woven with threads of devotion, destiny, and the vibrant legacy of Sephardi and Mizrahi Jewry, a testament to an unbroken chain reaching back to Avraham Avinu himself. It's a moment when the past breathes life into the present, in every blessing, every shared melody, every tear of joy.

Context

Place

Our journey into the profound world of brit milah in the Sephardi and Mizrahi traditions spans a breathtaking geographical mosaic. From the sun-drenched courtyards of Marrakech and Fez in North Africa, where the aroma of mint tea and spices often accompanies life's celebrations, to the bustling shuk in Aleppo, Syria, with its vibrant Jewish quarter, and the ancient, spiritual lands of Yemen, whose Jewish community maintained a unique and pristine heritage for millennia. We also traverse the historical breadth of the Ottoman Empire, encompassing communities in Turkey, Greece, and the Balkans, all the way to the rich cultural centers of Baghdad in Iraq and Bukhara in Central Asia. Each locale imbued brit milah with distinctive local flavor, yet all remained deeply rooted in a shared halakhic and spiritual framework that emphasized continuity with the past. These communities, though geographically dispersed and culturally distinct, were bound by a common thread of Sephardic legal tradition, particularly the profound influence of the Rambam. The Mishneh Torah, penned by Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, known universally as Maimonides or the Rambam, served as a foundational legal code that shaped Jewish life, including the intricate details of brit milah, across these diverse lands. His concise yet comprehensive articulation of halakha provided a unifying force, allowing for local adaptations while maintaining core principles. The reverence for the Rambam's rulings meant that practices, even when nuanced by local customs, often found their grounding in his authoritative words. This widespread acceptance created a unique blend of unity and diversity, a hallmark of Sephardi/Mizrahi heritage where local minhagim flourished under the overarching canopy of a shared legal tradition.

Era

The text before us, Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Milah (Laws of Circumcision) Chapters 2-3, was authored by the Rambam in the 12th century, a pivotal period that saw the flourishing of Jewish intellectual and spiritual life across the Islamic world. Born in Cordoba, Spain, the Rambam lived through a period of immense change and challenge, eventually settling in Fustat, Egypt, where he became the Nagid (head) of Egyptian Jewry and a personal physician to the Sultan Saladin. His era was one of intense philosophical inquiry, scientific advancement, and halakhic codification. The Mishneh Torah itself was revolutionary, an attempt to distill the entirety of Jewish law from the Talmud and Geonic literature into a clear, organized, and accessible code, without the need to consult the original rabbinic discussions. This monumental work became an indispensable guide for generations of Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews, providing a definitive framework for religious practice. The Rambam’s rulings on brit milah thus represent a snapshot of halakhic understanding from a foundational period, yet they also reflect the culmination of centuries of rabbinic interpretation. His insights were not merely theoretical; they were grounded in the lived experience of communities that had preserved and transmitted Jewish traditions through periods of both prosperity and persecution. The Mishneh Torah was therefore not just a book of laws, but a living guide that shaped the daily and lifecycle events of Jews from Spain to India, ensuring the meticulous and meaningful performance of mitzvot like brit milah for centuries to come, even as new minhagim and piyutim continued to develop around these core halakhic frameworks.

Community

The Sephardi and Mizrahi communities, united by their historical roots in the Iberian Peninsula (Sepharad) or the lands of the Middle East and North Africa (Mizrahi), represent a rich tapestry of Jewish life that, while sharing a reverence for the Rambam and a distinct halakhic approach, developed unique cultural expressions. These communities were characterized by a deep integration of Jewish life with the surrounding cultures, often leading to a flourishing of philosophy, poetry, and science, alongside robust religious scholarship. For example, in the Jewish communities of Ottoman lands, a strong emphasis was placed on communal solidarity and the public performance of mitzvot, where the brit milah was a grand communal affair. In Yemen, the preservation of ancient traditions, including a specific melodic style for prayers and a unique pronunciation of Hebrew, meant that the brit milah ceremony retained elements that were perhaps closer to the practices of the Geonic era. The halakhic interpretations of the Rambam were not merely studied; they were lived, serving as the bedrock upon which these vibrant Jewish societies built their spiritual and communal structures. The emphasis on mesorah (tradition) and the meticulous transmission of halakha from generation to generation ensured that the spirit of the Rambam’s teachings permeated every aspect of life, including the profound covenant of brit milah. This shared heritage fostered a sense of collective identity and pride, reinforcing the enduring strength and beauty of Sephardi and Mizrahi Jewry, whose customs surrounding brit milah are a testament to their resilience, faith, and creativity. The ceremonies were not just legal obligations but joyous celebrations, filled with specific piyutim, family traditions, and a deep sense of belonging, reflecting the soul of each particular community within the broader Sephardi/Mizrahi world.

Text Snapshot

The Rambam, in Mishneh Torah, Circumcision 2-3, outlines the fundamental laws 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.

How is the circumcision performed? The foreskin that covers the crown of the penis is cut off until the entire crown is revealed. [This step is referred to as milah.] Afterwards, the soft membrane that is beneath the skin should be split along the mid-line with one's nails and peeled back to either side until the flesh of the crown is revealed. [This step is referred to as pri'ah.] Afterwards, one should suck the place of the circumcision until all the blood in the further reaches is extracted, lest a dangerous situation arise. [This step is referred to as metzitzah.] Any [mohel] who does not perform metzitzah should be removed from his position."

Minhag/Melody

The brit milah, the covenant of circumcision, is a cornerstone of Jewish identity, and in Sephardi and Mizrahi communities, it is celebrated with a depth of tradition, communal warmth, and spiritual resonance that is truly captivating. The Rambam’s succinct halakhic pronouncements provide the skeletal structure, but the minhagim and piyutim of our communities bring it to vibrant, living flesh.

The Essence of Milah

The Rambam opens by stating that "Circumcision may be performed by anyone." This initial breadth is striking, emphasizing the universal obligation of the mitzvah itself, even allowing for a woman, a slave, or a minor to perform it if an adult male mohel is unavailable. This is a profound statement about the inherent holiness of the act, transcending typical halakhic limitations on who can perform mitzvot. However, the Rambam immediately contrasts this with the gentile: "A gentile, however, should not be allowed to perform the circumcision at all." Yet, if a gentile does perform it, "there is no need for a second circumcision." This nuanced position is explored by the commentaries.

Yitzchak Yeranen, commenting on Mishneh Torah, Circumcision 2:1:1, questions the Rambam's use of "בכלל" (at all), suggesting it implies that a gentile, whether already circumcised (like an Arab) or uncircumcised, should not perform the milah. This highlights the idea that the act must be performed by a Jew, not just any circumcised individual, because it is a specifically Jewish covenant. The Kessef Mishneh, as noted in Sefaria's footnote, explains that the Rambam's decision on not requiring a second circumcision if a gentile performed it might hinge on whether milah requires lishmah (for the sake of the mitzvah). Yitzchak Yeranen offers an alternative: the prohibition against a gentile performing milah is an "external" prohibition (issura mibarva). While doing so is forbidden, the physical act of circumcision itself, the removal of the foreskin, is accomplished, thus fulfilling the mitzvah from a purely physical standpoint, even if done against halakhic preference. This echoes Tosafot's reasoning in other contexts, where an act performed with an accompanying issur (prohibition) is still considered valid if the core action is completed. This demonstrates a deep halakhic precision, distinguishing between the ideal performance and the post-facto validity, a characteristic of Sephardi poskim.

The "optimum manner of performing the mitzvah is to use an iron utensil," a practice affirmed throughout Jewish communities. Tziunei Maharan points to the Be'ur HaGra (on Yoreh De'ah 264:17), which links this to the Mishnah in Shabbat (19:1), indicating its ancient and accepted custom. This choice of material, simple yet robust, symbolizes the enduring strength of the covenant.

The Role of the Mohel

The mohel, the trained circumciser, is a central figure in Sephardi/Mizrahi communities, often revered for their skill, piety, and the sacred role they play. Many mohalim come from families with a multi-generational mesorah of performing milah, their hands guided by ancestral wisdom. The ceremony itself is rich with minhagim. The Kiseh shel Eliyahu (Chair of Elijah) is a universal custom, but in Sephardi homes, it is often a beautifully adorned chair, sometimes even antique, symbolizing the prophet Elijah's eternal presence as the "Angel of the Covenant." The baby is brought into the room by the kvatter and kvatterin (godparents), often cherished relatives or friends, who have the honor of carrying the child to the mohel. This is accompanied by the singing of piyutim such as "Baruch Haba" (Blessed is He who Comes) or "Ein K'Elokeinu," often sung in the distinct melodic styles of Syrian, Moroccan, or Iraqi Jewry, each infusing the moment with unique flavor and communal joy.

Metzitzah and its Significance

The Rambam’s emphatic ruling, "Afterwards, one should suck... [This step is referred to as metzitzah.] Any [mohel] who does not perform metzitzah should be removed from his position," highlights its critical importance. This strong statement underscores that metzitzah is not merely a custom but an integral part of the mitzvah, deemed essential for both the physical well-being of the child and the proper fulfillment of the covenant. Traditionally, this involved the mohel orally sucking the blood from the wound. In many Sephardi and Mizrahi communities, especially those that maintained older traditions longer due to less exposure to external influences, oral metzitzah was meticulously maintained for centuries. This practice was seen as a direct continuation of the mesorah, embodying the halakhic stringency of the Rambam.

However, as medical understanding evolved, debates arose concerning hygiene. While some Ashkenazi communities moved towards using pipettes or other methods to avoid direct oral contact, many Sephardi poskim and mohalim held fast to the Rambam's view, emphasizing that the traditional oral metzitzah was not only halakhically mandated but, when performed correctly by a healthy mohel, medically sound. When adaptations were made, they were often done with careful halakhic consultation, ensuring that the spirit of the Rambam's ruling—the extraction of blood to prevent complications—was still met. The intensity of this adherence reflects a deep reverence for the Rambam's authority and a commitment to preserving the exact form of the mitzvah as understood through generations.

Blessings and Community

The Rambam meticulously details the blessings recited at the brit milah. The mohel recites, "Blessed are You... who sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us concerning the circumcision." If circumcising his own son, the Rambam states the blessing is "... to circumcise a son." This subtle distinction, noted in Sefaria's footnotes, regarding "concerning the circumcision" vs. "to circumcise a son," reflects a deeper halakhic discussion about whether the mitzvah is about the act of circumcision or the state of being circumcised. The Shulchan Aruch (Yoreh De'ah 265:2) mentions the Rambam's opinion but notes the custom (often Ashkenazi) is to always say "concerning the circumcision." This highlights a place where minhag diverged even from the Rambam's primary view, though the Rambam's reasoning remains foundational.

Crucially, the father of the child recites a separate 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." The Rambam emphasizes that "it is a greater mitzvah for a father to circumcise his son than for the Jewish people as a whole to circumcise the uncircumcised among them. Therefore, if a child's father is not present, this blessing should not be recited." This elevates the father's personal obligation and joy in bringing his son into the covenant. The Ra'avad, as noted in the footnote, disputes this, allowing the sandak (the one holding the baby) to recite it in the father's absence, a view that found wider acceptance in Ashkenazi minhag. However, in many Sephardi communities, the Rambam's stricture was often upheld, reinforcing the unique role of the father.

Following these blessings, the community responds, "Just as you have brought him into the covenant, so, too, may you bring him to Torah, marriage, and good deeds." This communal prayer, often recited with fervor, expresses the collective hope and aspiration for the child's future. The Brit Milah Seudah, the festive meal that follows, is a central part of the celebration in all Sephardi and Mizrahi communities. It is a time for joyous singing of piyutim, sharing blessings, and offering heartfelt congratulations to the family. In some communities, specific dishes are prepared, and family traditions are observed, further weaving the brit milah into the rich fabric of local culture. The naming of the child, often announced publicly during the ceremony, is another moment of profound connection, linking the new life to generations past and future. The entire event, from the precise halakhic performance to the joyous communal celebration, stands as a vibrant testament to the enduring power of the covenant and the rich, textured heritage of Sephardi and Mizrahi Jewry.

Contrast

The brit milah ceremony, while universally observed in Jewish tradition, reveals fascinating and respectful differences in practice between Sephardi/Mizrahi and Ashkenazi communities, often rooted in differing interpretations of halakha or the evolution of minhag. The Rambam's Mishneh Torah serves as a primary source for understanding the Sephardi/Mizrahi approach, offering clear points of distinction.

The Birkat HaAv (Father's Blessing)

One significant point of divergence lies in the recitation of the blessing by the father: "Blessed are You... who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to have our children enter the covenant of Abraham, our Patriarch." The Rambam states unequivocally: "if a child's father is not present, this blessing should not be recited." He further dismisses the opinion that the court or another person in attendance should recite it, concluding, "[Nevertheless, this ruling] should not be followed." This position emphasizes the unique and personal mitzvah of the father in bringing his son into the covenant, a mitzvah so significant that its associated blessing is reserved solely for him. The Rambam's reasoning, as explained in the Sefaria footnotes, is that this is not a birkat hamitzvah (a blessing over the performance of a mitzvah) but a birkat hoda'ah (a blessing of thanks and appreciation) to God for granting the father this profound opportunity. A blessing of thanks is inherently personal and tied to the one for whom the mitzvah is primarily intended.

In contrast, the Ra'avad, a contemporary and frequent disputant of the Rambam, argues that in the father's absence, the sandak (the person holding the baby) should recite this blessing. This view, which is widely adopted in Ashkenazi minhag, posits that the sandak effectively steps into the father's shoes for this part of the ceremony, acting as a representative of the father or the community. The Ramah (Rabbi Moshe Isserles), whose glosses on the Shulchan Aruch often delineate Ashkenazi practice, explicitly quotes and follows the Ra'avad's decision (Yoreh De'ah 265:1). The underlying halakhic rationale for the Ra'avad and Ashkenazi practice might be that the blessing, while acknowledging the father's mitzvah, also has a communal dimension, or that the sandak assumes a sufficiently similar role to warrant reciting it. This difference illustrates a broader theme in halakhic interpretation: the Rambam often favors a more literal and precise application of the law, while other poskim might consider broader communal involvement or pragmatic considerations. In Sephardi communities, where the Rambam's word is often paramount, the father's presence for this specific blessing remains a deeply ingrained and significant aspect of the ceremony, highlighting his singular responsibility and joy.

Metzitzah in Practice

Another area of significant contrast, particularly in modern times, is the practice of metzitzah. The Rambam's declaration, "Any [mohel] who does not perform metzitzah should be removed from his position," is exceptionally strong. He explains that this is due to the "danger involved" if blood is not extracted, implying that metzitzah is a crucial medical step in preventing complications. Traditionally, this was performed by the mohel orally sucking the blood from the wound. Many Sephardi communities, deeply influenced by the Rambam's authority, maintained this practice of oral metzitzah for centuries, viewing it as an indispensable part of the mitzvah and a safeguard for the child's health. The Ohr Sameach on Mishneh Torah, Circumcision 2:2:5 (though the Sefaria commentary is on a different point, the general sentiment applies) and other Sephardi poskim often upheld the traditional method, emphasizing the mesorah and the Rambam's clear directive.

In contrast, within Ashkenazi communities, and particularly starting in the 19th century amidst growing medical awareness and public health concerns, the practice of oral metzitzah became a subject of intense debate. While some ultra-Orthodox Ashkenazi groups still maintain oral metzitzah, many mainstream Ashkenazi poskim ruled that metzitzah could be performed using a pipette or other indirect suction methods, or even a sponge, to extract the blood. The Chatam Sofer, a prominent 19th-century Ashkenazi authority, for example, reluctantly permitted the use of a pipette due to health concerns, but still stressed the importance of metzitzah itself. The Ramah (Yoreh De'ah 264:1), in an earlier context (regarding a gentile's circumcision), rules that even if a second circumcision is not required, blood should be extracted, which became the accepted practice. The evolution of metzitzah in Ashkenazi communities reflects a tension between strict adherence to ancient practice and adaptation to modern medical understanding, sometimes leading to heated halakhic and communal disputes.

The Sephardi approach, while not entirely immune to these discussions, often showed a greater propensity to either maintain the traditional oral metzitzah if deemed safe, or to adapt by focusing on the essence of blood extraction rather than the specific method, but always with a deep respect for the Rambam's authoritative ruling. The strong language used by the Rambam regarding the removal of a mohel who omits metzitzah left an indelible mark on Sephardi practice, solidifying its place as a non-negotiable component of a proper brit milah. This contrast highlights how different halakhic authorities and communal pressures can shape the practical application of a mitzvah, even one as central as brit milah, while both traditions maintain profound respect for the covenant itself.

Home Practice

Reflecting on Covenant

While brit milah is a specific mitzvah performed on male infants, its underlying theme of covenant (brit) is universal and deeply relevant to every Jew, regardless of gender or denomination. For Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews, the concept of brit permeates daily life and identity, shaping our relationship with Hashem and with each other.

A small, yet powerful, home practice anyone can adopt is to consciously reflect on the concept of brit in their own lives. Take a moment each week, perhaps on Shabbat or during a quiet time, to consider the covenants Hashem has made with the Jewish people, and how these covenants manifest in your personal life.

1. Read and Reflect: Revisit the verses from Bereishit (Genesis) 17:1-21, where the covenant of brit milah is first established with Avraham Avinu. Pay close attention to the language of "My covenant between Me and you" and "for an eternal covenant." The Rambam, in Guide to the Perplexed, Vol. III, Chapter 49, emphasizes that brit milah signifies the covenant of God's oneness and unites the Jewish people. As he states: "When a person is circumcised he enters into the covenant of Abraham which obligates him to know [God's] unity." Reflect on how this unity and this knowledge of God's oneness resonate with you.
2. Personalize the Blessings: The blessings recited at a brit milah are rich with meaning. Even if you haven't recently attended a brit, you can take the father's 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 reflect on its sentiment. If you are a parent, consider the profound joy and responsibility of raising children within this covenant. If not, consider how you, as part of the Jewish people, are a "child" of Avraham and Sarah, entering into and upholding this eternal brit.
3. Engage with Piyutim: Search for a piyut (liturgical poem) traditionally sung at a brit milah in a Sephardi or Mizrahi tradition that resonates with you. Many are available online with translations. For example, "Baruch Haba" (Blessed is He Who Comes) is a beautiful and common piyut. Learn a verse or two, and let its melody and words connect you to generations of Jews who have celebrated this covenant. This practice connects you to the emotional and spiritual landscape of the mitzvah in a uniquely Sephardi/Mizrahi way, allowing you to participate in the communal joy and profound meaning of the brit, even from afar.

By engaging with these reflections, you don't just learn about the brit; you actively participate in its enduring spiritual power, strengthening your own connection to the eternal covenant that binds the Jewish people. It’s a way to weave the ancient threads of our tradition into the fabric of your modern life, keeping the spirit of the brit vibrant and alive.

Takeaway

The brit milah, as illuminated by the profound halakha of the Rambam and the vibrant minhagim and piyutim of Sephardi and Mizrahi communities, is far more than a mere ritual; it is the very inscription of our eternal covenant with Hashem upon the flesh of our children. It is a testament to an unbroken chain of tradition, a celebration of life, and a deeply personal and communal affirmation of our identity as the descendants of Avraham Avinu. From the meticulous details of the mohel's craft to the joyous communal blessings and melodies, every aspect of the brit echoes with the wisdom of generations past, while paving the way for generations to come. It reminds us that our heritage is not static, but a living, breathing tapestry, rich in texture, diverse in expression, yet unified by the timeless embrace of the brit. It is a proud and enduring legacy, promising continuity, meaning, and an unwavering connection to the divine.