Pesach to Shavuot – milestones and memories

The fifty days between Pesach and Shavuot contain a number of commemorations that range from the most ancient to the most modern of our people’s history.   Beginning with the birth of our nation and our peoplehood with the exodus from Egypt, the period ends with the birth of our covenant relationship with God as a people at Mount Sinai.

In between, the fifty days of the Omer are days of semi mourning for a reason we are never quite clear about. Some say it is in memory of the oppression of Jews under the Romans, and the failure of the revolts against them; Others that 24 thousand students of Rabbi Akiva died in that period of a plague.  One the thirty third day we have Lag B’Omer  – (Lamed Gimel = 33) which provided a brief change in fortunes for the beleaguered Jews of the time. 

Less than a week after the end of Pesach, when we commemorate the miraculous deliverance of the Israelites at the Red Sea on the seventh day of the festival, we remember a period when deliverance did not come.   The abortive uprising in the Warsaw Ghetto, and all the murdered victims of the Holocaust are recalled on Yom ha Shoah ve’ha’Gevurah – the day for remembering the holocaust and the heroism.

 A week later, and more of our dead are remembered on Yom ha Zikaron – the day of memorial for those who gave their lives for the emerging State of Israel.  The day after that we mark Yom Ha’atzma’ut – Israel’s independence day, and this looks forward to the last week of the Omer period and its 44th day when Yom Yerushalayim commemorates the reunification of the city in the Six Day War.

So in fifty days we range over three thousand five hundred years of history.  We see victories and defeats, celebrations and mourning.  We observe Festivals that are at the core of our being as Jews, we see half festivals, not-really-festivals, and festivals in the making.  We see the dynamism and the forward thrust of Judaism which continues to create liturgy and ritual through which to express the most contemporary of events, and we look forward to messianic age promised in all our celebrations at this time But as we look forward, we also remember, are reminded, have memory of, recall, memorialise, commemorate, reminisce.   All these events have one thing in common, both past and future, the intertwined and symbiotic fate of the nation of Israel and people of Israel.

  We are all Israel, connected to each other, to our history, to our future and to our historic land. That connection and what happens to the land remains even today integral to what happens to the people.  We are a people, a tribe, links in a chain that never breaks.

The purpose of the exodus from Egypt was not simply freedom from slavery, it is freedom with a purpose – the purpose fulfilled at Shavuot, the unbreakable covenant we made with God, a covenant made for all generations, for those who were there at the time and those who were not there, for those born into the people and those who chose to join it.

The time between Pesach and Shavuot is a time that we count, a time we make count. We build up to the Sinaitic moment where God and people connect in a way never seen before nor since. We live and are nourished from that moment.

Shavuot is often overlooked, a festival without much ritual in the home, and all night study in the synagogue doesn’t appeal to everyone. But it marks a pivotal moment in our narrative and our formation.

Shavuot is celebrated this year (2022) on Saturday 4th in the evening till Sunday 5th in the evening (or Monday if you follow the diaspora tradition of a second day).

Find yourself a community of learners, a community of pray-ers and celebrate Shavuot, take yourself to Sinai and recommit to the eternal covenant. And then move forward into the rest of the Jewish year, away from Sinai and onto the journey that builds the people of Israel and binds us together as we go through the desert to the promised land.

Abortion and Jewish Tradition

Discussion about abortion is necessarily complex and frequently freighted with contextual perspectives. Yet an examination of Jewish sources reveals that while indeed this is a complex and nuanced subject, certain matters are clear since biblical times. Firstly biblical law does not treat abortion as murder, but as a civil matter. We find the legal status of the foetus encoded in Mishnah Ohalot (7:6) which speaks of therapeutic abortion even during childbirth:- the life of the unborn child is of less legal weight than that of the mother right up to the point of the emergence of the head, because until that point it is not a “nefesh”.  The mother’s right to life supersedes that of the unborn child.

Our tradition also deals with the emotional well-being of the mother. Mishnah Arakhin teaches that a pregnant woman who is convicted of a capital crime is executed quickly in order not to prolong her agony while she carries the child to term. Commentary on this somewhat grisly text makes clear that the rights of the foetus are not greater than the emotional distress of the mother.  Once again the mother’s needs take precedence over those of the unborn child.

Interestingly both Rabbinic law (which describes a pregnancy of 40 days as “water”) and early Church law – which permitted abortion until the child “quickened” (about 16-20 weeks), were the norm for centuries. Not that anyone doubted that the body belonged to God, and that abortion was a serious matter, but punishments were not severe, nor was the perpetrator deemed criminal.  In the UK, abortion after “quickening” attracted the death penalty only in 1803, and in 1937 earlier abortion was added. After that a succession of laws increasingly limited access to abortion and criminalised those involved. Similarly in the Jewish world some eminent poskim narrowed access to abortion to medically mandated life-saving situations only. In part this was a response to Shoah – Jewish lives lost should be replaced, went the thinking. But clearly something else is in play – the rights of a woman over her own body and her own fertility, accepted for centuries as being in the private domain, were brought into public discourse in order to control them.

Once again the rhetoric is ramping up. But the Jewish view is clear – our focus should be to look after the children and families who are living and who need society’s help, not policing women’s bodies.

Written for “Progressively Speaking” in Jewish News July 2020

Aborto e tradizione ebraica

Pubblicato da rav Sylvia Rothschild il 22 maggio 2022

          La discussione sull’aborto è necessariamente complessa e, spesso, carica di prospettive legate al contesto. Eppure un esame delle fonti ebraiche rivela che, mentre in effetti è un argomento complesso e ricco di sfumature, alcune cose sono chiare fin dai tempi biblici. In primo luogo la legge biblica non tratta l’aborto come un omicidio, ma come una questione civile. Lo stato giuridico del feto lo troviamo codificato nella Mishnà Ohalot (7,6) che parla di aborto terapeutico anche durante il parto: la vita del nascituro ha un peso legale inferiore a quella della madre fino al momento in cui la testa emerge, perché fino a quel punto non è “nefesh”. Il diritto alla vita della madre prevale su quello del nascituro.

          La nostra tradizione si occupa anche del benessere emotivo della madre. Mishnà Arakhin stabilisce che una donna incinta condannata per un crimine capitale venga giustiziata rapidamente senza farle portare a termine la gravidanza, per non prolungare la sua agonia. Il commento a questo testo alquanto raccapricciante chiarisce che i diritti del feto non sono maggiori del disagio emotivo della madre. Ancora una volta i bisogni della madre hanno la precedenza su quelli del nascituro.

          È interessante notare che sia la legge rabbinica (che descrive una gravidanza di quaranta giorni come “acqua”) sia la legge primitiva della Chiesa, che consentiva l’aborto fino a quando il bambino non compiva i primi movimenti percepibili (tra la sedicesima e la ventesima settimana circa), sono state la norma per secoli. Non che qualcuno dubitasse che il corpo appartenesse a Dio, e che l’aborto non fosse una cosa seria, ma le punizioni non erano severe, né l’autore del reato era ritenuto criminale. Nel Regno Unito, l’aborto dopo la percezione dei movimenti fetali, è stato punito con la pena di morte solo nel 1803, nel 1937 è stata poi aggiunta per l’aborto nella fase precedente. Dopodiché una serie di leggi limitava sempre più l’accesso all’aborto e criminalizzava le persone coinvolte. Allo stesso modo, nel mondo ebraico, alcuni eminenti poskim hanno ristretto l’accesso all’aborto solo a situazioni salvavita obbligatorie dal punto di vista medico. Questa è stata in parte una risposta alla Shoà: le vite perdute degli ebrei dovrebbero essere sostituite, si pensava. Ma, chiaramente, è in gioco qualcos’altro: i diritti di una donna sul proprio corpo e sulla propria fertilità, accettati per secoli come dominio privato, sono stati introdotti nel discorso pubblico al fine di controllarli.

          Ancora una volta la retorica si fa strada. Il punto di vista ebraico è però chiaro: il nostro obiettivo dovrebbe essere quello di prenderci cura dei bambini e delle famiglie che vivono e che hanno bisogno dell’aiuto della società, e non quello di sorvegliare i corpi delle donne.

          Scritto per “Progressively Speaking” in Jewish News luglio 2020

Traduzione dall’inglese di Eva Mangialajo Rantzer