Monday, April 4, 2016

R. Shimon’s Thinking is Alive and Well / Parshat Tazria 2016-57

Is giving birth a sin? The recondite laws of ritual purity combined with the detailed and decidedly unglamorous catalogue of sacrificial offerings in Leviticus delivers a double-whammy: Giving birth renders a woman ritually impure for an initial seven days plus an additional 33 days after delivering a boy, or an initial 14 days plus an additional 66 days after giving birth to a girl. Following that, the woman must bring two sacrifices to the Temple: (1) a lamb as an olah; and (2) either a pigeon or turtledove as a chatat, a sin offering—yes, a SIN offering:

וּבְמִשְׁלַם יוֹמֵי דְּכוּתַהּ, לִבְרָא אוֹ לִבְרַתָּא, תַּיְתֵי אִמַּר בַּר שַׁתֵּיהּ לַעֲלָתָא, וּבַר יוֹנָה אוֹ שַׁפְנִינָא לְחַטָּתָא--לִתְרַע מַשְׁכַּן זִמְנָא, לְוָת כָּהֲנָא.  וִיקָרְבִנֵּיהּ לִקְדָם יְיָ, וִיכַפַּר עֲלַהּ, וְתִדְכֵּי, מִסּוֹאֲבָת דְּמַהָא:  דָּא אוֹרָיְתָא דְּיָלֵידְתָּא, לִדְכַר אוֹ לְנֻקְבָּא
On the completion of her period of purification for either a son or daughter, she shall bring to the priest, at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, a lamb in its first year for a burnt offering, and a pigeon or a turtledove for a sin offering. [The priest] shall offer it before Adonai and make expiation on her behalf; she shall then be clean from her flow of blood. Such are the rituals concerning [a woman] who bears a child, male or female. (Leviticus 12:6–7)

The Torah: A Women’s Commentary notes that the chatat offering “cleanses the sanctuary of the impurity generated by the mother’s severe discharge; blood from the sacrifice serves as a ritual detergent… Thus, while human blood or discharge is a source of impurity the blood of an animal sacrifice is what counteracts its effect on the sphere of holiness.”[1] Presumably, however, the woman stopped bleeding long ago (these sacrifices are brought 40 or 80 days after the woman delivered), and following her immersion after the initial period of ritual impurity (seven days for a boy; 14 days for a girl). Torah terms the bird offering a chatat, which is usually translated “sin offering.” Why does every woman need to bring a sin offering after she gives birth?

In contradistinction to the poetic symmetry of the explication in A Women’s Commentary, Talmud offers a deeply troubling explanation:

R. Shimon b. Yochai was asked by his disciples: Why did the Torah ordain that after giving birth a woman should bring a sacrifice? He replied: When she kneels in childbearing she swears impetuously that she will never again have intercourse with her husband. The Torah, therefore, ordained that she should bring a sacrifice.

R. Yosef said: Does she not [in swearing she will never have intercourse with her husband again] act presumptuously, in which case the absolution of [the oath] depends on her regretting it?

Furthermore, she should have brought a sacrifice prescribed for an oath [which is a lamb or goat, not a bird]. (BT Niddah 31b)

R. Shimon bar Yochai presumes that a woman, in the throes of giving birth with all its attendant pain, swears an oath that she will never have sex again with her husband, lest she become pregnant and have to endure labor and delivery again. In his mind, this oath constitutes a sin requiring atonement. The Gemara does not bother to question whether such a blanket assumption should apply to all women in every instance. Rather, it points out two concrete inconsistency  between R. Shimon’s explanation and the laws of Torah. First: R. Yosef points out that if R. Shimon were correct that every woman swore such an oath while in labor (or even if only one woman swore such an oath) the proper procedure for releasing her from an oath of this sort is not as Torah describes. A rabbi (or priest) would need to speak with her to discern her sincerity before annulling the oath; a sacrifice alone cannot annul an oath. Therefore, R. Shimon’s explanation does not make sense. Second: Gemara notes that the proper sacrifice to bring following the annulment of an oath is a lamb or goat, not a bird, as stipulated by Leviticus 12:7. This provides a second proof that R. Shimon’s contention is incorrect.

If R. Shimon is wrong, why does Torah instruct women to bring a sin offering after giving birth? Because, Bible scholar Jacob Milgrom has argued, chatat should not be rendered “sin offering” but rather “purification” or “purgative offering.” He writes:

The very range of the hatta’t [or: chatat] in the cult gainsays the notion of sin. For example, this offering is enjoined upon recovery from childbirth (Lev. xii), the safe completion of the nazirite vows (Num. vi) and the dedication of the newly constructed altar (Lev. viii 15; see Exod. xxix 36f). In other words, the hatta’t is prescribed for persons and objects who cannot possibly have sinned.[2]

Milgrom goes on to say that the term chatat should be understood in a verb form (pi’el) that connotes “no other meaning than ‘to cleanse, expurgate, decontaminate.’”[3] In other words, the woman does not bring what we would consider to be a “sin offering” at all; she brings an offering to complete her ritual purification, just as the Nazirite and metzora do in order to gain access to the sanctuary. “God’s acceptance of the olah signaled the readmission of the individual into the religious life of the community.”[4] In other words, the offerings have nothing to do with sin. Perhaps R. Shimon should have consider the assessment of his view found in another passage in Talmud, Keritot 26a, which cites his view and comments: “The sacrifice she brings is for the purpose of [restoring her ritual purity, thereby] permitting her to partake of consecrated food and is not expiatory [i.e., it does not atone for sin].”
And what about the the difference in time required following the birth of a boy and a girl for the woman to attain ritual purification? Why must  the woman wait twice as long after giving birth to a boy? Is this evidence that males were considered superior to females, as so many have claimed? Talmud seems to think so:

And why did the Torah ordain that in the case of a male [the woman is ritually pure] after seven days and in the case of a female [the woman is ritually pure] after fourteen days? [Upon the birth of a] male with whom all rejoice, she regrets her oath after seven days, [but upon the birth of a female] about whom everyone is upset, she regrets her oath after fourteen days. (BT Niddah 31b)

Probably this is not the underlying concern of Leviticus, however. Leviticus is famously concerned to the point of distraction with life and death issues, and anything that resides on the boundary, especially disease, evokes enormous concern and anxiety. Giving birth entails spilling a great deal of blood, something that is associated with death. In the ancient world many women died in childbirth. Even today, modern medicine cannot prevent all high risk pregnancies or guarantee that no woman will experience any of a number of frightening medical emergencies. Even with excellent medical care, childbirth can be risky. Therefore, in the ancient world when the mother survived childbirth and delivered a girl there was the acute realization that the process brought forth one who would, some day, risk her life to deliver a child. Torah’s differential between the period of impurity following the birth of a boy and a girl may well have been an expression of the profound fear and anxiety that childbirth generated: for the mother who delivers now, and for the baby girl who will one day face the same risk.

But the different intervals of ritual impurity are probably not about sin nor about which baby is superior. Torah is assiduously death-averse and passionately life-affirming. Childbirth sits on the cusp between death and life.

One wonders why R. Shimon bar Yochai would make the claim he did about what woman in childbirth say. How many births had he witnessed? The answer is zero; women were attended by midwives and other women when they gave birth, not by men. His generalization is not only incorrect, it has a nasty, misogynistic ring to  it. Why is it recorded in the Gemara? Furthermore, if it is so easy to disprove R. Shimon’s appalling claim, as R. Yosef and the Gemara almost effortlessly do, what is the point of including both R. Shimon’s claim and the simple refutations in the Talmud?

Perhaps the Talmud is modeling both a problem and a response from which we can learn and take strength. How often does someone with gravitas or political standing toss out an outrageous, bigoted generalization that simple logic and amply available facts could refute, but which has strong emotional resonance for a great many people who would love to believe not only the generalization, but its underlying implications? The current political climate in the United States supplies an alarming number of examples: “Muslims are… “ “Mexicans are…” “Women are…” “Liberals are…” “Conservatives are…” “X-supporters are…” Perhaps Talmud is modeling the proper response: Don’t ignore it, even if it patently absurd and don’t sink to the same level; rather, marshall the facts and reasoning to counter illegitimate claims. Keep speaking the truth. And let us hope and pray that those who stick to reason and facts will have the last word, the word that will be heard and prevail, as it does in this passage in the Talmud.

© Rabbi Amy Scheinerman





[1] Pages 641-2.
[2] Jacob Milgrom, Vetus Testamentum 21 (1971), pp. 237-239.
[3] Op. cit.
[4] Jacob Milgrom, The JPS Torah Commentary: Leviticus, p. 74.

Thursday, March 31, 2016

More Than Just a Nosh / Shemini 2016-5776

Is there any group of people—nation, ethnicity, religion, or social grouping—without a significant focus on food? Food is about far more than nutrition and sustenance. It is a means by which we establish and cement relationships. It is a means by which we express concern, care, and love. It is even—at least for many Jews—a signifier of identity. Keeping kosher, however one chooses to observe the traditions of kashrut, marks one as a Jew in one’s own mind and in the minds of others. 

The core laws of kashrut are found in this week’s parashah, Shemini. Leviticus chapter 11 details the criteria for determining which animals are permissible for eating according to the categories we learned in the creation story of Genesis chapter 1: animals that live on the land, in the oceans, and that fly through the skies. Since Torah holds these to be the proper and normal domains for life, outliers such as amphibians are banned. Permissible land animals must have cloven hoofs and chew the cud, which explains why pork is out.[1] Fish must have fins and scale, which explains why shellfish is forbidden.[2] Torah lists permissible and impermissible fowl; generally, domesticated birds are permitted and birds of prey are not allowed.[3] Winged insects that walk on fours are out with the exception of a certain kind of jointed leg that includes locusts, crickets, and grasshoppers—aren’t you glad to know they’re permitted?[4] From Torah’s perspective, God restricts our diet as a condition of the Covenant. No explanation is provided, no justification is offered. These are the rules.


The separation of milk and meat—a major component of kashrut today—is not actually found in the Torah; it is a rabbinic enactment against cooking, eating or deriving benefit from a mixture of milk and meat that the Rabbis derived from Torah’s prohibition against “boiling a kid in its mother’s milk.”[5]

When we think about Jews and food, far more than the traditions of kashrut jump to mind. Visions of lox and bagels, knishes, blintzes, kugel, knaidlach, borsht, latkes, cholent, tzimmes, charoset, shakshuka, felafel, sour dill pickles, burekas, rugelach, hamantaschen, and apple cake dance in our heads. Family gatherings, festive holy day meals, your grandmother’s speciality…our connection with food is deep and visceral. Is there a family that doesn’t argue about whether latkes are better with sour cream or applesauce? With Pesach around the corner, the annual debate will resume: Should knaidlach (matzah balls) sink or float? Should matzah brei be cooked into a solid frittata, or as separate pieces? (Correct answers: sour cream, float, separate pieces.)

Food, or more specifically how it is prepared and served, is also integral to our evolution as a species. Long before there were Jews, Buddhists, Hindus, Christians, or Muslims, and long before there was Italian, Chinese, Indian, Ethiopian, Thai, and Mexican cuisine, our primate ancestors spent much of their time foraging, gathering, and eating food, and when they weren’t doing that they were probably thinking about food.


Neuroscientist Suzana Herculano-Houzel, in her 2009 article in Frontiers in Human Neuroscience and in her 2013 TED Talk, explains that while brain size is not always correlated to body mass and doesn’t necessarily predict cognitive ability, the number of neurons packed into the brain does determine cognitive capacity. (For example: Chimps and cows have comparably sized brains, but chimps outstrip cows cognitively. Elephant brains weigh three times that of human brains, and whale brains six times as much as humans’, yet human brains are capable of far more cognition. Gorillas are twice or thrice our size but their brains are one-third the size of ours.) Why are people so different from other species all living, growing, and evolving on the same planet? One difference is that our brains evolved to have 86 billion neurons, far outstripping all other species. Moreover, the additional neurons don’t increase the overall size of the brain and, therefore, the weight. What is truly remarkable about the human brain is the energy it takes to function: 25% of the energy (calories) we consume is required to keep all 86 billion neurons running. Neurons are energy-expensive. This raises a question.

How did our brains evolve—and so rapidly—to the point that they sport 86 billion neurons and even more significantly a prodigious cerebral cortex that out-sizes all other primates? (The cerebral cortex is responsible for logical and abstract reasoning, pattern recognition, the development of technology, and the capacity to pass along knowledge through culture.) Given the diet of early humans, in order to support a modern brain they would have had to have spent nine hours each day foraging, gathering, and eating to sustain each brain. How much more time would have been required to support those, like children, the sick and injured, and the elderly, who could not assist in locating and gathering food? The game changer was finding a way to get more calories out of food consumed. Herculano-Houzel explains that 1.5 million years ago our ancestors, who had been eating a raw diet like other primates, discovered how to cook food over fire. Cooking food made more calories available and absorbable, dramatically decreasing the number of hours each day the owner of the brain must devote to foraging, gathering, and eating. Cooking permitted humans to evolve brains with greatly increased numbers of neurons—much of the increase packed into the cerebral cortex— whose energy requirements could be met with cooked food. The time saved could be devoted to thinking, technology, culture, and formulating ways to pass along knowledge to future generations. All because of food preparation.


Whether we think of kashrut as a mitzvah ordained by God, or as a facet of Jewish practice that developed over time for a variety of cultural reasons, or as a way to identify oneself as a Jew and bind oneself to a community and its shared history—or all three—the premium we place on what we eat, how we prepare and serve it, and the fact that we say a blessing of thanksgiving before eating is fully in keeping with human evolutionary history and what makes the human species unique in the history of earth’s primates. At one and the same time, we are part of the flow of the river of human evolution and history and also a distinctive branch in the river.

© Rabbi Amy Scheinerman



[1] Leviticus 11:1-8.
[2] Leviticus 11:9-12.
[3] Leviticus 11:13-19.
[4] Leviticus 11:20-23.
[5] The prohibition against boiling a kid in its mother’s milk is found three times in the Torah: Exodus 23:19 and 34:26; and Deuteronomy 14:21. The Talmud discusses the separation of milk and meat in BT Hulling 113b and 115b, but does not explain the reason for the prohibition. Much later, Moses Maimonides (1135, Spain – 1204, Egypt) suggested that the biblical law is related to Torah’s widespread concern about idolatry. Ovadia b. Yaakov Sforno (1475–1550, Italy) held that the prohibition of boiling a kid in its mother’s milk referred to ancient Canaanite fertility rites intended to encourage the gods to increase their flocks and herds. A document discovered in Ugarit provides yet another perspective: it describes a ritual in which a kid is cooked in its mother’s milk and then spread on the fields to increase agricultural yields. Some have interpreted the biblical prohibition on ethical grounds, saying that the practice is barbaric and inhumane.