It's a practice deeply rooted in Jewish law, but when you really stop and think about it, some tough questions arise.
Philo, the 1st-century Jewish philosopher from Alexandria, grappled with some of those very questions. In his Midrash, he dives into the meaning behind the commandment of circumcision. One of the first things he asks is this: how can a baby, just eight days old, be held accountable if he isn’t circumcised? What possible offense could such a young infant commit that would warrant such a severe consequence?
Philo points out that Jewish law is usually quite merciful when it comes to unintentional offenses. He gives the example of accidental manslaughter. Even then, the Torah provides a path to safety. Cities of refuge were established, offering sanctuary to those who unintentionally caused a death. So, if someone who unintentionally killed another person is given refuge, how can we reconcile that with the seemingly harsh punishment for an infant who isn't circumcised?
Some might argue, Philo says, that the commandment is really directed at the parents. The parents are the ones who are responsible for upholding the law, and failing to circumcise their son is a sign of their own defiance. But even then, does it seem fair to place such a heavy burden on an infant?
Here's where Philo takes a fascinating turn. He suggests we need to look beyond the literal interpretation of the words. We need to look at the "inward meaning," the p'nimiyut, if you will. And here's where it gets interesting.
Philo argues that "what is male in us is most especially the intellect." In other words, the circumcision isn't just about the physical act; it's about circumcising our minds. He explains that God commands this circumcision to be performed on the eighth day, specifically on the foreskin, because this symbolically represents the parts of us that are most susceptible to worldly pleasures and impulses.
Think about it. The physical act becomes a metaphor for a deeper spiritual practice. It's about purifying our intellect, clearing away the "flesh" and the "vices of the flesh." According to Philo, an intellect that isn't "circumcised" – that isn't disciplined and focused on the divine – is corrupt and "cannot be saved."
Now, some might read this and think Philo is talking about condemning a person to eternal damnation. But he clarifies that the punishment isn't directed at the person's physical body. Instead, he says, "that soul shall be cut off." But cut off from what, exactly?
Philo's answer is surprising. He says the soul is cut off from its generation, its potential for incorruption. The whole of creation, in its essence, is incorruptible. Therefore, a wicked person removes themself from incorruption and embraces corruption. It's not about a vengeful God punishing a helpless infant. It's about the consequences of an unrefined, undisciplined intellect.
So, what does this mean for us today? Perhaps Philo's interpretation invites us to consider the deeper meaning behind rituals and commandments. It challenges us to move beyond the literal and to explore the symbolic, the metaphorical, the spiritual significance. The commandment of circumcision, according to Philo, becomes a powerful reminder to cultivate our intellect, to purify our thoughts, and to strive for a life of meaning and purpose. It's a call to circumcise not just our bodies, but our minds and hearts as well.