How to Run a Traditional Jewish Household

by Blu Greenberg

  Abortion

  Abortion is a complex issue. Throughout the centuries, rabbis have recognized it as such. They did not give flat, simplistic rulings, but rather often made fine distinctions that are so necessary in dealing with the complexities of human life. Many rabbinic opinions regarding abortion have been registered in the vast halachic literature, so that we have before us legal precedents that range from very strict to very lenient.

  In the opinion of most authorities, abortion is not considered killing. The view is derived in part from the laws concerning accidental abortion: if a man accidentally injures a pregnant woman and causes her fetus to be aborted, he must pay only damages (EXOD. 21:22). (Note there that the damages are paid to the father of the fetus and not the mother.) At any rate, there is no substantial rabbinic discussion of abortion as murder. This can be sharply contrasted with the antiabortion arguments abounding today.

  The general rule is that abortion is not permitted except under special circumstances:

  If a woman suffers a hard [that is, protracted, life-endangering] childbirth, we are to dissect the child in her womb and bring it out piece by piece, for her life takes precedence over its life. If the greater part of the child has emerged, we may not touch it, for we are not permitted to take one life for another.

  —MISHNAH OHALOT 7:6

  In case of danger to the mother’s life, an abortion can be—must be—performed, even up to the last moment before birth. In consequence of the focus centered on the life of the mother, there hardly appears in rabbinic literature an explicit debate on the right to life of the fetus. In fact, the Mishnah makes it clear that fetal life is not the same as newborn life.

  What constitutes threat to a mother’s life? Here, the opinions range from actual, imminent threat to her life at the one end, and a threat to her health at the other. The lenient interpretation of threat to health includes psychological stress or other factors significantly affecting her mental health. Interestingly, Jewish law doesn’t require testimony and proof from experts. According to some authorities, her own assessment is sufficient. Thus it can be said that abortion on demand is not permitted, but in cases where carrying to term would aggravate a stressful condition or would place the mother in a situation where she could not cope, some authorities would interpret the law to permit an abortion. Other rabbis forbid abortion even when there is a strong chance of the child being born with serious birth defects, as in the thalidomide cases, and even where parents have tested positively as Tay-Sachs carriers.

  In the responsa, the interpretation of threat to a mother’s health has been broadened to include the health of other family members. For example, an abortion was ruled permissible where the pregnant mother would have been no longer able to continue nursing an older child, endangering its health.

  In situations where the mother’s actual life is not at stake, timing has something to do with the halachich rulings. Within the first forty days of pregnancy, the fetus is technically considered as water, that is, not fully formed; certain of the rabbinic rulings on abortion reflect that fact. Moreover, some rabbis make a distinction between a fetus in the first three months and the period following.

  Timing happens to be one of the complicating factors in the Tay-Sachs controversy. One in thirty Ashkenazi Jews carries Tay-Sachs genes, a very high percentage, which is why Tay-Sachs is often considered a Jewish genetic disease. Therefore, Jewish couples about to be married are routinely encouraged to be tested for Tay-Sachs. If both husband and wife are carriers, there is 1 chance in 3600 that a child will carry the dread disease in which the body begins to decay at birth and the child inexorably dies at age four or five. Amniocentesis, which cannot be performed until the fourth month, can detect the presence of Tay-Sachs genes in the fetus. Certain rabbis discourage Tay-Sachs testing and amniocentesis for fear it might lead to an abortion, and a relatively late one at that. At the other pole are rabbis who interpret a genetically impaired fetus as valid reason for an abortion, because of the severe mental and emotional stress it can place on the mother.

  Rabbis do not give dispensations. They give interpretive decisions. A couple is required to consult with their rabbi as to whether halacha does or does not permit abortion in this particular situation. Thus, the traditional position is such that it gives neither a blanket veto on abortion nor unfettered license to a woman to decide what to do with her own body. The answer for an Orthodox Jew lies somewhere between these two poles. This allows community norms to be brought to bear on this most personal decision.

  Yes, Orthodox women have had abortions. Because of the community’s dread of abortion, however, great care is taken not to become pregnant by chance, after the desired number of children have been born. Abortion is a sensitive and private subject, and it is difficult to say whether Orthodox women who terminate a pregnancy do or do not consult with a rabbi. I know some women who did. And some who didn’t.

  Birth Control

  Although it would seem to be self-contradictory, the contraceptive laws of Judaism seek to establish the primacy of human regeneration. At the same time, these laws acknowledge that sex drives are healthy, natural, pleasurable—and not for procreation only. In practice, then, Jewish law permits interference with natural conception, but circumscribes the method and the timing.

  One can construct a positive theology of contraception: the basic principle is that the two most sacred human acts are to love and to create new life. Both of these should come together in the act of conception. But if a man and a woman were to create life each time they made love, this might well destroy love. On the other hand, contraception unlimited might lead to an inner orientation that is selfish, self-centered, and dehumanizing. To bridge the gap, then, laws of limited contraception were formulated. The laws balance the tensions between freedom and control, individual conscience and group norms, sublime principles and mundane realities. It is a practical approach, yet it does not overlook the spark of divinity that inheres in human life’s creative processes. In other words, an exquisite dialectic operates here.

  The laws themselves are derived from an interplay of three Biblical principles:

  1. The mitzvah of pru urevu (GEN. 1:28)—be fruitful and multiply—is perhaps the most significant factor in limiting the use of birth control. Strange as it may seem, this mitzvah, the Rabbis explained, devolves upon man and not woman. (A host of sociological interpretations and Scriptural pegs are offered, but none of these totally satisfy modern sensibilities.) Nevertheless, it must be added that an alternate view does attribute to women a shared role in this mitzvah; at the very least, they enable their husbands to fulfill it. Moreover, another commandment of procreation—lashavet, to settle the earth with human life—is equally incumbent upon women and men.

  What did all this mean in real life? What did it have to do with the sex life of normal human beings? Unlimited procreation? Of course not! Certainly there was an awareness that human beings must curb their breeding functions and could not simply go on multiplying without concern for the consequences. Absolute and strict interpretation of pru urevu would result in life that would be disorderly, the health and strength of women sapped, the needs of the individual treated with insensitivity. Accordingly, the Rabbis defined a bare minimum for pru urevu. The school of the great sage Hillel (first century) held that one girl and one boy were the minimum for fulfilling this mitzvah; this view was preferred over alternate minimums such as two boys or two girls and two boys. The idea was that, at the very least, human beings should replace themselves. Not to do so was not merely reprehensible, it was an outright sin. Cosmic significance was attached to the mitzvah of pru urevu: “He who does not engage in procreation it is as if he has diminished the image of God in the world.”

  2. On the other hand, procreation was not all there was to sex. The Biblical principle of onah (EXOD. 21:10) establishes women’s rights to sexual pleasure. Sex as a woman’s right and a man’s responsibility? An uncommon thought! Yet there it was, a fundament
al of Judaism some three thousand years before anyone heard of D. H. Lawrence or the sexual revolution.

  Broader implications of onah are that marital relations are independent of generativity. If this is so, then birth control must be an appropriate condition of married life. Consider that a normal woman ovulates and produces an egg every month for about forty years of her life; consider, too, the end of niddah coincides with the peak of fertility. The only contraceptive solutions would be to curb sex or to interfere with the generative process. One might say that onah, the principle of sexual pleasure, served to eliminate rhythm as an option.

  3. A third principle is that of hash’cha’tat zerah, the law forbidding improper emission of seed (semen). One source of this law is the story of Onan, who was destroyed by God because of his grave sin of “wasting his seed” on the earth. Every time he would have intercourse with his widowed and childless sister-in-law, whom he had been required to marry in order to carry on the family name, he would withdraw just before ejaculation (GEN. 38:8–10). From this story, as well as from the commandment of pru urevu, the law prohibiting coitus interruptus was derived. By extension, so was the prohibition against any other mechanical device that impeded normal intercourse. Under certain circumstances of health, however, mechanical impediments—the moch—were permitted, and thus the whole question of mechanical impediments became relativized.

  But hash’cha’tat zerah was interpreted more broadly than onanism or wasting seed. Indirectly, the second interpretation was linked to the principle of onah, marital pleasure. Thus, any form of intercourse that impeded the fullest pleasure of the sex act was forbidden. The male and female sex organs were optimally to be in direct and fullest contact.

  These three broad factors, plus the ever-present overarching considerations of health, were the bases of countless rabbinic decisions over the years. The question generally wasn’t whether birth control is or isn’t permitted. It is. The real questions centered on whether a particular type of birth control device was permissible or preferable, and under what circumstances was that so. While it would be impossible here to give every difference of opinion, along with its circumstances, we can draw some general conclusions:

  Under what circumstances is birth control permitted?

  1. Technically, a couple is not permitted to use birth control until they have met the minimum requirements of pru urevu. Since this was the naturally accepted thing for women to do—that is, marry and begin their families immediately—questions of practicing birth control right after marriage, except for reasons of health, were hardly ever asked.

  2. However, there are legitimate questions of spacing of children, family planning, and so forth. In several responsa, we learn that contraception is permitted as long as a couple intends to have children at some point or other in their married lives. These particular rabbinic decisions are relevant to the modern Orthodox, many of whose young married women are not having babies as soon as they marry, but rather are completing their educations or establishing themselves in careers. In all honesty, it must be said, that we do not find in the sources justification for contraception based on pure convenience, priority of career, or financial considerations. Formally, these are not sufficient reasons for delaying a family. What has happened, then, is that many Orthodox couples use the lenient interpretations of birth control as a base upon which to construct their own decisions about timing. Couples are aware, in light of the law, that it is preferable to begin their families earlier rather than wait extensively. Contemporary Orthodox women on the whole do begin their families sooner than their more secular counterparts. Whether it is law or community that affects their decision is hard to say. For many Jews living in the post-Holocaust era, there is a special desire to affirm life in the most real way—by having children.

  WHICH METHOD MAY BE USED?

  Some methods are forbidden outright, others are ranked in terms of preference. All of the statements below are general conclusions. One must consult a rabbi for definitive answers.

  Sterilization

  Permanent sterilization is considered mutilation. For this reason, as well as for its negation of pru urevu, it is forbidden outright. Sterilization by means of oral contraceptives (known as the kos shel ikkarim, the cup of roots) was forbidden by some Rabbis because it was thought to be permanent, yet was permitted by others because it was understood to be temporary. Sterilization of the male is forbidden under any circumstance.

  Tying the fallopian tubes

  This is at times permitted, because it does not impede intercourse, nor is it permanent, since the tubes can be surgically reconnected.

  Rhythm

  Since rhythm-combined-with-niddeh would mean abstaining from sex altogether it is usually forbidden on grounds of onah.

  Coitus interruptus

  Onanism notwithstanding, coitus interruptus is sometimes permitted when insemination would otherwise present a possible health hazard for the woman.

  The condom

  Condoms are not permitted, as they interfere with normal intercourse. “And he shall cleave unto his wife and they shall become one flesh” (GEN. 2:24). Moreover, condoms restrict the male; since the mitzvah of pru urevu is upon him, all forms of male contraception are inherently objectionable. And third, the condom prevents his seed from being deposited in the vaginal canal, and therefore makes intercourse more unnatural.

  The diaphragm

  Until the pill was discovered, the diaphragm was probably the most widely used contraceptive device among traditional Jews. It does not interfere with normal intercourse; all it does is close the entrance to the uterus, thus preventing passage of sperm to the egg. It does not kill the sperm, but rather allows it to die naturally. Some authorities still object on the grounds that it is a mechanical barrier, but even these sources find it less objectionable because it operates on the woman.

  Spermicides

  These are permitted by some authorities but rejected by others on the grounds that the seed is chemically destroyed. The majority of those who compare spermicide to diaphragm find diaphragm less objectionable. The douche, which doesn’t kill the sperm, is less objectionable, but is ruled out by several rabbis on the grounds that it doesn’t work, and therefore to rely on it might cause impregnation when it should be avoided for health reasons.

  IUD

  This is somewhat controversial because scientists are still not sure whether it causes an abortion of the egg after it is fertilized, or whether it simply prevents the egg from being fertilized. In recent years, medical evidence seems to be leaning toward the former, that is, that it prevents implantation of the fertilized egg. If this should become definitively established, those who have ruled in favor of the IUD would probably shift their ruling, since aborting a fertilized egg is a much more serious objection than preventing fertilization of an egg.

  The pill

  This or other oral contraceptives which do not permanently alter a woman’s fecundity is permitted to women (but not to men because of pru urevu). Most rabbinic authorities see the oral contraceptive as the preferred method, for it does not interfere in any way with natural intercourse. It allows the seed to travel along its natural path without being destroyed.

  The pill, however, has two problems: one is that it can cause bleeding which would render a woman niddah almost the entire month. Second, as we discover increasingly with every passing year, the pill can have negative side effects which may not show up for years, but which can adversely affect children born to anovulant pill users. Many Jewish women who formerly relied on the pill have now returned to other methods which they deem safer to their own and to their future children’s health.

  In sum, everything is forbidden and everything is permitted. The Rabbis, past and present, dealt with the issue at great length, trying to bridge the gap between the ideal and the real. Family size and spacing, health, the claims of community, history, and tradition, the intimate needs of the couple, the specific timing and methods of birth control, th
e far-reaching implications of creating life or curtailing it—a hundred factors come into play in every contraceptive decision. And that is exactly as it should be.

  CHAPTER · 12

  BAR MITZVAH—BAT MITZVAH

  With or without fanfare, when a boy reaches thirteen, and a girl reaches twelve, he/she becomes Bar or Bat Mitzvah, an adult in the eyes of Jewish law, responsible for the full range of mitzvot. It is an involuntary step, as is all growth. In one sense, then, Bar or Bat Mitzvah can be understood as the involuntary act of growing into Jewish maturity.

  Twelve- and thirteen-year-olds, however, are quite capable of making voluntary responses, so the celebration of Bar and Bat Mitzvah, essentially, is the celebration of the joyous acceptance of this responsibility.

  Now, let us look at it from another angle. One of the special qualities of Judaism is that nothing is taken for granted. Not a thing—not biological growth, nor physical sensations, nor events in nature, nor emotional stages—goes by unnoticed. This extraordinary quality of acute awareness and celebration always applied in greater measure to male experiences and stages of growth. But under the impact of new values for women, the imbalance is being corrected.

  The fact that a young man at thirteen became fully responsible for observing the commandments of the Torah and was simultaneously conferred with full rights as an adult Jew made it only logical that a rite of passage connected to the Torah should develop. Thus, the core of the ceremony was an aliyah to the Torah at which a thirteen-year-old recited the Torah blessings. This symbolized his commitment to Torah, his voluntary acceptance of the covenant, and his full rights as an adult Jew.