Circumcision: Is It Still Necessary?

When Abraham was ninety-nine years old, God commanded him to do something extraordinary. He was to circumcise himself, and every male member of his household, as a sign of the covenant between God and the Jewish people.

Ninety-nine years old! Most people that age are trying to avoid unnecessary medical procedures. Abraham voluntarily underwent one because God commanded it.

And according to our rabbis, the opening words of this week's Torah portion, VaYera, are directly connected to that event.

The Torah tells us, VaYera eilav Adonai - "And God appeared to him."

Why did God appear to Abraham?

Rashi, citing the Talmud, explains that Abraham was recovering from his circumcision, and God came to visit him on the third day of his recovery. This, our rabbis teach, is one of the sources for the mitzvah of bikkur cholim, visiting the sick.

Later in this same Torah portion, Abraham and Sarah are blessed with the birth of Isaac. And the Torah tells us that when Isaac was eight days old, Abraham circumcised him, just as God had commanded.

With these stories, the Torah introduces one of the oldest and most enduring practices in Jewish history: Brit Milah, the covenant of circumcision. For nearly four thousand years, Jewish parents have circumcised their sons as an expression of their relationship with God and their membership in the Jewish people. And throughout those centuries, Jews have gone to extraordinary lengths to preserve this mitzvah.

Consider what happened during the second century BCE, when the Seleucid ruler Antiochus IV attempted to suppress Jewish religious practices (which later led to the Maccabean revolt, and the story of Chanukah). The First Book of Maccabees records that circumcision was forbidden under penalty of death. It describes Jewish mothers who nevertheless circumcised their sons and were executed for doing so.

Why would they take such a terrible risk? Because to them, circumcision was not merely a cultural custom. It was a mitzvah, a sacred obligation, a visible and permanent reminder of the covenant between God and the Jewish people. And that commitment survived. Through Greek and later Roman persecutions, medieval expulsions, and countless other periods of danger and uncertainty, Jewish families continued to observe Brit Milah. Indeed, it remains one of the most widely observed Jewish religious practices, even among Jews who rarely observe other mitzvot.

All of which makes a recent article in GQ magazine particularly interesting. Yes, GQ! Not exactly the publication to which I ordinarily turn for insights into Jewish religious observance. In September, the magazine published a lengthy article by Kevin Lincoln entitled, I Didn't Circumcise My Son. Did I Make the Right Choice?

Lincoln and his wife decided not to circumcise their newborn son. But afterward, he began to question whether they had made the right decision.

And so he undertook an extensive examination of circumcision in contemporary America. What he discovered was that an increasingly large number of American parents are making the same decision. According to a study published last year in JAMA Pediatrics, the percentage of American male newborn hospitalizations involving circumcision declined from 54.1% in 2012 to 49.3% in 2022. In 1979 it was 82%.  In other words, a procedure that for generations had been routine in American hospitals is becoming considerably less common. And with that decline has come a growing debate about circumcision's medical benefits and ethical implications.

Some physicians emphasize its demonstrated health benefits, including reduced risks of certain infections and sexually transmitted diseases. Others question whether those benefits justify performing an irreversible procedure on an infant who cannot consent.

Lincoln interviews medical experts on both sides and ultimately concludes that he and his wife made the right decision for their son.

It is an article worth reading.  It raises serious questions worthy of thoughtful consideration. But as I read it, I found myself thinking that something essential was missing. The article is largely concerned with whether circumcision provides sufficient medical benefits to justify performing it. And that is certainly a legitimate question.

But medical benefits, or the lack thereof, are not what has motivated Jewish parents for thousands of years. And at a time when the growing debate over circumcision is reaching younger generations of Jews, I think it is especially important that we understand why Brit Milah holds such a unique place in Jewish life.

So of course, if circumcision provides medical benefits, we welcome them. But Jews did not begin circumcising their sons because an ancient  physician recommended it. We did not adopt Brit Milah because medical researchers discovered that it might prevent certain infections. And we will not abandon it simply because medical opinion or American cultural preferences change. We circumcise our sons because the Torah commands us to do so.

At a time when Brit Milah is under attack from many quarters throughout the western world, let’s remember why we circumcise our sons:

Because Abraham entered into a covenant with God.

Because Isaac was circumcised on the eighth day.

Because generations of Jewish parents, including those who risked everything to preserve this practice, understood that being Jewish involves not only beliefs and values, but obligations.

This, I believe, is where the contemporary debate reveals something much larger. We live in a society that increasingly asks whether a particular religious practice is useful, beneficial, or personally meaningful. Those are reasonable questions. But Judaism also asks another question: What are our obligations? We observe mitzvot because they are part of the covenant that defines our relationship with God.

I recognize that there may be legitimate reasons for questioning circumcision as a routine medical procedure for every American newborn, although I remain unconvinced by many of the arguments against it. But for Jews who understand themselves as bound by the commandments, the religious obligation of Brit Milah does not depend upon whether the next medical study finds additional benefits or questions those previously established. That obligation was established long before modern medicine existed. It has survived empires, persecutions, migrations, and extraordinary changes in Jewish life. And it remains one of the most powerful expressions of the covenant that began with Abraham.

The medical profession can debate whether circumcision is beneficial. Society can debate whether it should be routine. But we are not opposed to circumcision because medical science tells us it is unnecessary. We are committed to circumcision because the Torah tells us it is necessary. It is a mitzvah. It is our covenant. And that is reason enough.