From the Rabbi

What do we mean by Jewish continuity? This was the main question in our last session of the “Beyond Dispute” series on pivotal Jewish discourse over the centuries. It happened to coincide with the leaked draft of the Supreme Court’s decision on Roe v. Wade and was a good opportunity to explain Jewish views regarding this sensitive issue. From the main question in the class, many others stemmed. For example, is procreation an absolute value in Judaism? What would it mean to think about Jewish continuity, not solely in terms of fertility rates and swelling the Jewish population, but enhancing and enlarging a sense of community while also cultivating and supporting the values central to our tradition?  

In January 1973, the U.S. Supreme Court decided the case of Norma McCorvey — known by the legal pseudonym “Jane Roe.” Four years earlier, she became pregnant with her third child and wanted to have an abortion. At that time, abortion was illegal in Texas, except when necessary to save the mother’s life. The case alleged that Texas’s abortion laws were unconstitutional, and addressed the issue of “fundamental rights.” Should these issues be decided by the states or by the Federal government — issues  that many allege apply to us today, such as healthcare, gay marriage, and the legal use of cannabis. Should  such issues be decided by the people in the states where they live, or should they be legislated from the  courts? Some argue convincingly for “states rights,” but do these rights supersede the law of the land? Is  it critical to determine when life starts and make that the law of the land?  

What makes this such a divisive issue? In the beginning of Genesis, following God’s creation of  the first human beings in His image, the Torah says, “God blessed them and God said to them, ‘be fruitful  and multiply and fill the earth…’” Already here, we can see the different approaches to procreation. Was  God commanding them or blessing them? Is it both, or does it mean that only by bringing children into  this world is the rubric fulfilled? What are the reasons Jews are encouraged and commanded to procreate,  and what values compete with those commands? 

On one hand, the people of Israel have always valued life. The Tosefta, a second-century  compilation of Oral Law, in Yevamot 8:7, Ben Azzai says, “One who does not engage in procreation  sheds blood and annuls the image [of God], as it says, ‘For in His image did God make human beings,’  and it is written ‘And you, be fruitful and multiply.’” On the other hand, our session explored rabbinic and  modern sources about procreation and contraception that discuss what happens when the value of  procreation comes into conflict with other values. Those values can be education, harmonious marital  relationships, financial stability, and the welfare of women, children and communities. The first concern  in Judaism is for the living, Moses commands us always to choose life. But in many cases, the picture is  not so clear; we must determine which direction will be more life giving. Is a person blessed only in  relation to having children? 

Suppose we shift the discussion from one of personal responsibility to responsibility for  continuity? What are our obligations to future generations? What is our responsibility toward life in our  society after birth? Judaism also values ideas that are greater than life, at least the life of the individual.  The values that preserve the life of the community often come before the life of the particular. It is true  that we need children to create a society, but what good is that society if its people are not cultivated, if  they bring down low the image of God as in the Biblical cities of Sodom and Gomorrah? Furthermore, the  three cardinal sins — idol worship, bloodshed and incest — require one to give up life before transgressing. Society is flesh, but it is also content — a house that is built for the purpose of making a home. Religions have differing views on the question of when life begins. Talmudic sources note that the fetus is “mere water” before 40 days of gestation, often the time of the first heartbeat. Following this period, the fetus is considered a physical part of the mother’s body. It does not yet have a life of its own until the first breath allows the soul to enter the body. However, the Torah, in Exodus 21, recounts the story of two men who are fighting and, in so doing, injure a pregnant woman, resulting in her subsequent miscarriage. The verse explains that if the event results in miscarriage, then the perpetrator must pay a fine. If the pregnant woman is gravely injured, the penalty shall be a life for a life, as in other homicides. From that, we learn that a fetus is precious and contains a level of life, yet the interests of the mother will always come before that of the fetus. According to Jewish law, abortion is healthcare, and is commonly interpreted to encompass psychological health as well as physical health. 

In the end, we must consider the value of life. Why are we saddened to learn of Britney Spears’  miscarriage? Why should we arrest someone who disturbs sea turtle eggs? If we mourn this loss of potential  life, why don’t we mourn for others? What about the future sense of loss and other consequences of  abortions that many women suffer, sometimes years later? It’s easy to claim that the most intimate  relationship on earth is between a mother and child — one flesh, separated. In the end, it’s not just about  procreation. The most prominent evidence is that Jewish law is generally liberal about the use of  contraception (a topic for another article). The message is to respect life and not to treat it cheaply, to not  make abortion in our minds a substitute or the ultimate correction for contraception, that we take  responsibility for the life we make and its blessings.  

Lechayim. To Life!

—Rabbi Gadi Capela

Please join me in wishing the State of Israel “Mazal Tov” for its 74th birthday. A breeze of freedom is blowing through this season, from the ancients to modern times. We remember the rescue from Egypt on Passover, a week later the liberation from Nazi claws, and today, the Day of Independence for the State of Israel.

We don’t take anything for granted. In Israel, Independence Day immediately follows Memorial Day. They are back-to-back so we can remember those who paid for our freedom with their blood. As the Torah tells us, “O nations, acclaim God’s people! For He’ll avenge the blood of His servants, wreak vengeance on His foes, and cleanse His people’s land.” In Israel, all activity stops at noon for two minutes — even cars on busy streets stop, drivers and passengers reflecting on the blessings of a free people – a national silent prayer.

Today, at our synagogue, we installed a new flag to fly from the pole at the front of the park. As we were retiring the old flag and unfurling the new one, I realized we had to trample on a few delicate and beautiful flowers in order to access the flagpole. The lesson was right there at our feet. Protecting the flag comes with a price. We are reminded that freedom is not free. We lose delicate flowers we send to fight for it.

We pray for the flowers to come back, just as we had prayed for the resurrection of the State of Israel for 2,000 years. As Ezekiel prophesied: “Thus said the Lord GOD: I am going to open your graves and lift you out of the graves, O My people, and bring you to the land of Israel.” This year, many cities in Israel opted to forgo the fireworks in order to respect those for whom those sounds are a traumatic reminder of a battleground. A beautiful gesture of maturity.

Now that Israel is entering its 75th year — the diamond jubilee — let’s move from fireworks to fireplace, striving for a calmer and more accepting existence. Yom Ha’atzmaut Sameach!