Oy

[theatokos]

I am sitting in my office listening to a bris ceremony in our library. We rent out our space from time to time, and tonight there are about 30 adults and one 8 day old little boy making noise in the library. I've been listening to chanting in Hebrew and sappy letters from parents and grandparents to the Baby of Honor. Usually I'm all down for religious ritual. I thought I would stand in the back and observe, but I'm discovering that I'm creeped out by the whole thing. Little Baby is about to be sliced, about to be unburdened by a foreskin, circumcised. While I have no issue with circumcised or uncircumcised in theory, on an adult male, it's just.... creepy to think that some little guy doesn't get to choose, is about to have a blade wielded over his bits. And it's even weirder to me (as a non-Jew) that everyone comes together and celebrates this as a good thing! There are presents, flowers, photos of the parents at various stages of their lives. I realize this is just as much a celebration of the new family and of the child's welcome into the worl, but I wonder, does something like this exists when Jews have a brand new baby girl?

I also realized that I forgot to bring from home one of my many magazines or the book I'm reading. Two and half more hours of responsibility and sitting at my desk. Oy.

Comments

[alizarin71.livejournal.com]

There's a scene in "Crossing Delancey" where three friends stand in back of a bris ceremony while a mutual friend's son is circumcised. It's all as Hallmark-card as you could want, despite that the baby bleeds and cries, and the father almost passes out. It's simultaneously bizarre and the definition of normal.

Hrafntinna might be able to say something about the rituals we don't get to choose to be a part of, whether it's scarification or something more subtle. Somehow it seems to me that your not choosing is what makes sure you'll never lose it ... like family. For good or ill.