Tag Archives: Darkei Emori

Body Piercings in Judaism

In the first of this week’s double parasha, Matot, we read about the tribute and offerings that the Israelite warriors brought to Moses and Elazar the Kohen Gadol following their wars of conquest. Among the jewellery we find “armlets, bracelets, rings, earrings, and pendants” (Numbers 31:50). Although the final word in this list, khumaz (כומז), is typically translated as “pendant”, its meaning is far more mysterious. Rashi says here that the khumaz was apparently a pendant in the shape of a womb, and by offering up these ornaments, the Israelites were atoning for the sexual sin previously committed with the Midianites.

Canaanite Jewellery from the Late Bronze Age, c. 13th century BCE (Credit: factsanddetails.com)

Long before this sin, in Exodus 35:22, we already saw how the Israelites donated their own jewellery for the construction of the Mishkan, and the khumaz appears there also as something offered by the righteous Israelite women. Rashi’s comment there is different, citing the Talmud (Shabbat 64a) that khumaz stands for kan makom zimah (כָּאן מְקוֹם זִמָּה), meaning that this jewellery was something placed on the reproductive organ and was used for “lewdness”! The shocking implication seems to be that this was a piercing in the nether regions.

Interestingly, the Talmud here also presents an opinion that ‘agil (עגיל), typically translated as an “earring”, was actually worn on the breasts, perhaps as a nipple ring, or a golden breastplate of some sort designed to accentuate a woman’s features for lewd purposes. The Talmud concludes the passage with Rav Sheshet saying that the Torah lists exposed ornaments (like bracelets and rings) with concealed ones (like the ‘agil and khumaz) to teach you that there is really no difference: a man that ogles at a woman’s exposed features and ornaments (even just a pinky finger!) is equated with one who ogles at her concealed features and is just as wicked.

The Riva (Rabbi Isaac ben Asher haLevi, c. 11th century), a disciple of Rashi and one of the Tosafists, asks how it is possible that a piercing or ornament of lewdness could be donated for a holy purpose? Similar objections were understandably shared by other commentators. This is why the Ibn Ezra says (on Exodus 35:22) the khumaz must simply be a bracelet for the upper arm. Another possibility was that it was indeed placed over the reproductive organ as the Talmud states, though not for lewdness, but for chastity. Perhaps the khumaz was like a “chastity belt” purportedly used in the Middle Ages to ensure a woman remains a virgin and/or to protect her from sexual harassment. The reality, however, is that there is no physical evidence that such belts ever existed, nor can anyone explain how they might have been comfortably worn or how they would have been kept locked in place without the option of easily removing them. Scholars relegate chastity belts to the realm of myth.

The best explanation is probably that the Israelite women only had those types of lewd ornaments and pieces of jewellery because they were taken from the Egyptians. Recall that the Israelites received gifts and riches from the Egyptians as they left (Exodus 12:35-36). So, it is these pagan ornaments that they repurposed for use in the holy Mishkan. (We might conclude that, in so doing, they were able to affect a tikkun, a spiritual rectification.) The Israelite women themselves probably never wore them. And if they did, it begs the question: what is actually permitted halakhically today when it comes to bodily piercings?

The first piercing that comes to mind is earrings, which we know must be fine. Then come nose rings, which we might assume are not fine. Yet, the reality in ancient Israel may very well have been the opposite. We read, for instance, how Eliezer brought Rebecca a nose ring as a gift (Genesis 24:22 and 47). For those who might argue that this was before the giving of the Torah, and since then nose rings are no longer permissible, the Talmud (Sotah 7b) states that a sotah who was suspected of being an adulteress had to remove her nose ring, meaning they were common among Israelite women at least up to the Talmudic era.

The Talmud there mentions three specific types of ornaments: finger rings, nose rings, and necklaces or “chokers” worn close around the neck. Note how earrings are strangely not mentioned, suggesting that nose rings were more popular among Israelite women at the time. Indeed, the Torah suggests that earrings may have been associated with slavery, as we read how one who wished to be a permanent slave needed to have their ear punctured with an awl (Exodus 21:6). There is a big question if the slave actually had to wear an earring afterwards, or if he only required to have his ear punctured once symbolically. Most likely, he did have to wear an earring to identify him as a permanent slave, and the earring may have even identified to whom he belonged. The Talmud (Kiddushin 21b) has an opinion that the puncturing was done specifically in the upper ear, so perhaps there is a difference between an earring on the earlobe for beauty, versus an earing on the upper ear cartilage to indicate slavery.

The 24 Ornaments of a Jewish Bride

As explored in the past, the Torah gives us 24 ornaments that an Israelite bride would be adorned with in ancient times. The prophet Isaiah lists them in the third chapter of his book, and they are:

  1. anklets [‘achasim] עֲכָסִ֛ים
  2. ribbons (or headbands) [shvisim] שְּׁבִיסִ֖ים
  3. crescents [saharonim] שַּׂהֲרֹנִֽים
  4. pendants (or earrings) [netifot] נְּטִפ֥וֹת
  5. bracelets [sheyrot] שֵּׁיר֖וֹת
  6. veils [ra’alot] רְעָלֽוֹת
  7. headdresses [pe’erim] פְּאֵרִ֤ים
  8. armlets [tza’adot] צְּעָדוֹת֙
  9. sashes [kishurim] קִּשֻּׁרִ֔ים
  10. corselettes (or talismans) [batei hanefesh] בָתֵּ֥י הַנֶּ֖פֶשׁ
  11. amulets [lehashim] לְּחָשִֽׁים
  12. rings [taba’ot] טַּבָּע֖וֹת
  13. nose-rings [nizmei ha’af] נִזְמֵ֥י הָאָֽף
  14. aprons (or festive robes) [mahalatzot] מַּֽחֲלָצוֹת֙
  15. shawls [ma’atafot] מַּ֣עֲטָפ֔וֹת
  16. hair-coverings [mitpachot] מִּטְפָּח֖וֹת
  17. girdles (or purses) [charitim] חֲרִיטִֽים
  18. robes (or gowns) [gilyonim] גִּלְיֹנִים֙
  19. fine linen (or linen vests) [sadinim] סְּדִינִ֔ים
  20. headscarves (or kerchiefs) [tzenifot] צְּנִיפ֖וֹת
  21. mantles (or capes) [redimim] רְדִידִֽים
  22. perfume [bosem] בֹּ֜שֶׂם
  23. belt (or apron) [chagorah] חֲגוֹרָ֤ה
  24. hair curls or braids [petigil] פְּתִיגִ֖יל

In this list, we see no mention of the ‘agil or khumaz, lending further evidence that these really were inappropriate piercings. We do have netifot, literally “drops”, which some interpret to mean earrings that are like droplets hanging from the earlobes. The only other piercing mentioned is, once again, the nose ring. The term used is nezem af, with the second word seemingly superfluous. If nezem already means a “nose ring” then why add af, “nose”?

This dilemma might be solved by looking at the Golden Calf incident. Recall that Aaron had told the men to “take off the gold rings that are on the ears of your wives…” (Exodus 32:2) The term for “gold rings” is nizmei hazahav (נִזְמֵ֣י הַזָּהָ֔ב), but Aaron says to remove them off of their ears! So, a nezem might be referring to any piercing, whether on the nose, ears, or otherwise. Finally, in Ezekiel 16:11 (which parallels Isaiah 3, above) we read that God bedecked the Jewish people with “a ring in your nose, and earrings in your ears, and a splendid tiara on your head.” Here, a nezem is clearly a nose ring and ‘agilim are undoubtedly earrings. So, a Jewish women could sport a modest nose ring and earrings, but other piercings are unlikely to be kosher.

On the whole, there are three major things to consider regarding piercings: first is tzniut, that the piercing should be elegant and modest. Second is darkei Emori, the prohibition of imitating pagan practices. If the piercing is a type that is widely acceptable and universal, like earrings or nose rings, then it is most likely okay, while if it is clearly associated with pagan or gentile practices, then it is not okay. Lastly, there is the issue of beged ishah, that men cannot adorn themselves in the manner of women. Since piercings are generally considered a woman’s form of adornment, they would be entirely prohibited for Jewish men. This is all the more important today, when secular society seeks to completely blur the gender gaps, so we should be all the more punctilious in clearly defining and differentiating between men and women.

Shabbat Shalom!

Should Jews Celebrate Halloween?

On Monday evening, people across the Western world will be celebrating Halloween. Today, it has become common in some places for Jews to partake in these festivities along with their non-Jewish neighbours. Might this be permissible? What are the origins of Halloween and should Jews participate in the holiday?

At first glance, the origins of Halloween appear to be Christian. The Christian “All Saints’ Day”, or “All Hallows’ Day” (hallow meaning “holy”) is commemorated on November 1st. In olden days it was customary for Christians to stay up the night before a holiday and hold a vigil, and the same was done for All Saints’ Day, hence All Saints’ Eve or All Hallows’ Eve, a name that eventually condensed into Hallowe’en, or simply Halloween. On this night, Christians would pray for the souls of the dead, and ring church bells for those in purgatory, as well as to remind the living about their ultimate fate. Some developed a custom to hand out “soul cakes” to commemorate the dead. It is believed that trick-or-treating came out of children and poor people going door-to-door to get soul cakes in exchange for prayers for the dead.

An antique Irish jack-o-lantern made from a carved out turnip.

However, as with many things Christian, the actual origins of Halloween date back to pagan practices. Like Christmas and Easter—which were instituted in place of earlier pagan festivals marking the winter solstice and spring fertility rituals—Halloween came in place of the earlier Celtic and Gaelic pagan holiday of Samhain. Samhain was celebrated on October 31st to mark the end of the harvest season and the start of the cold, dark, lifeless winter. It was believed that ghosts, fairies, and evil spirits emerged and would be more active through the difficult winter. Jack-o-lanterns were made (from pumpkins, turnips, and others) to ward off these evil spirits, and dressing up in ghastly costumes was thought to scare them away, too.

Meanwhile, people would leave offerings for the wicked spirits to appease them, as well as food and drink for the souls of their own deceased ancestors who were thought to return to Earth one night a year. This is the true origin of trick-or-treating! In some places, it was thought that the dead actually arose from their graves in the cemeteries to have a party, so a “danse macabre” re-enactment was performed, with people dressing up like the dead and going to dance and feast.

The Witch’s “Wheel of the Year”

Not surprisingly, Halloween was always an especially important day on the calendar for those practicing witchcraft and sorcery. Today, “neopagans” and Wiccans still consider Halloween one of their four major festivals (what they call a “Greater Sabbat”, unfortunately misappropriating our holy Shabbat). In short, Halloween is entirely a holiday of the Sitra Achra, a term for the realm of impurity and evil in Jewish mysticism.

With all of this in mind, there is no doubt at all that Jews should not participate in Halloween festivities. The Torah warns very strictly not to engage in any form of idolatry whatsoever, and something like 46 of the 613 commandments deal with various prohibitions related to idolatry and pagan practices.  Jewish law forbids even dabbling in darkei Emori, referring to various other practices of pagans, even if they are not directly idolatrous (as the Torah states in Leviticus 18:3: “Do not walk in their ways…”) In fact, even Protestant Christians used to oppose Halloween, and the Puritans much more vehemently. Halloween was actually not celebrated at all in the Americas at first. It was only with the infux of Irish and Scottish immigrants to America in the 1800s that the holiday started to become popular.

Some will argue that Halloween no longer has any religious connotations, and is simply a secular holiday and a fun time for the kids. This is false for several reasons. First, Halloween is quite clearly all about highlighting the dead, evil spirits, ghosts, demons, and the like, which is fundamentally a religious notion. Second, regardless of how they may be viewed today, the practices of Halloween are deeply rooted in pagan rituals, and there are those who do indeed still celebrate Halloween as a genuine pagan religious festival.

More significantly, Halloween teaches children nothing positive. Young minds are instructed to go out and request candy from strangers (while every other day of the year being cautioned not to take candy from strangers!) Some learn that it is okay to commit mischief. Aside from that, Halloween decorations tend to be disturbing and frightening, and stimulate no beneficial or constructive emotions in anyone. (Worse still, wicked people have used Halloween as an opportunity to abduct children, to poison treats, even to stick pins and needles into candies, among all the other horrible things that have been done on Halloween over the years.)

In stark contrast to Halloween, Judaism has Purim, a festival of “light, happiness, joy, and honour” (Esther 8:16). A holiday to celebrate life and people uniting for a good cause. Instead of begging for candy, children are taught to go out and deliver mishloach manot treats to others. Instead of hooliganism, children are taught to give matnot l’evyonim, charity to the poor. Instead of dressing up as evil spirits, demons, and grotesque beings, children dress up as regal heroes, prophets, prophetesses, and holy patriarchs and matriarchs—and if not these then at least a dignified, modest costume. If you like Halloween, simply switch to Purim!

To conclude, there is little of value in Halloween, a holiday all about death and mischief, eating junk food, frightening other people, and glorifying horror and violence. The decorations are disturbing, the blood sugar levels troubling, and the message entirely ungodly. The spiritual risk in engaging in something so deeply pagan—when God warns so sternly to avoid anything even remotely hinting of paganism or idolatry—is far too great. Thus, not only should Jews not celebrate Halloween in any way, they should encourage each of their friends and neighbours to abolish this unhealthy and unholy satanic death ritual once and for all.

The Mysterious Custom of Upsherin

In this week’s double Torah portion (Acharei-Kedoshim) we read that “when you will have planted all manner of trees for food, its fruit shall be forbidden; three years shall it be forbidden to you, it shall not be eaten.” (Leviticus 19:23) This refers to the mitzvah of orlah, where a newly-planted tree must be left unharvested for its first three years. Seemingly based on this, a custom has developed to leave the hair of newborn boys uncut until age three. On or around the boy’s third birthday, a special celebration is held (called upsherin or halakeh), often with family and friends taking turns to cut a bit of the boy’s hair. Henceforth, the boy is encouraged to wear a kippah and tzitzit, and his formal Jewish education will begin. It is said that just as a tree needs the first three years to establish itself firmly in the ground before it can flourish and its fruit be used in divine service, so too does a child.

Lag B’Omer 1970 in Meron. Photo from Israel’s National Photo Collection

Indeed, the Torah makes a comparison between trees and humans in other places. Most famously, Deuteronomy 20:19 states that fruit trees should not be harmed during battle, “for is the tree of the field a man?” The tree is not an enemy combatant, so it should be left alone. Although the plain meaning of the verse is that the tree is not a man, an alternate way of reading it is that “man is a tree of the field”. Elsewhere, God compares the righteous man to a tree firmly rooted in the ground (Jeremiah 17:8), and in another place compares the entire Jewish nation to a tree (Isaiah 65:22).

Having said that, the custom of upsherin is essentially unknown in ancient Jewish sources. It is not mentioned anywhere in the Talmud, nor in any early halakhic codes, including the authoritative Shulchan Arukh of the 16th century. Where did this very recent practice originate?

Lag b’Omer and the Arizal

The first Jews to take up this custom were those living in Israel and surrounding lands under Arab Muslim dominion in the Middle Ages. We see that Sephardic Jews in Spain and Morocco did not have such a custom, nor did the Yemenite Jews. (In fact, Yemenite Jews did not even have a custom to abstain from haircuts during Sefirat HaOmer at all.) This is particularly relevant because the upsherin ceremony is often connected with the Sefirat HaOmer period, with many waiting until Lag b’Omer for their child’s first haircut, and taking the boy to the grave of Rashbi (Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai) in Meron for the special ceremony.

It appears that the earliest textual reference to upsherin is from Rabbi Chaim Vital (1543-1620), the primary disciple of the Arizal (Rabbi Isaac Luria, 1534-1572). Because of this, many believe that upsherin is a proper Kabbalistic custom that was instituted by, or at least sanctioned by, the great Arizal. In reality, the text in question says no such thing. The passage (Sha’ar HaKavanot, Inyan HaPesach, Derush 12) states the following:

ענין מנהג שנהגו ישראל ללכת ביום ל”ג לעומר על קברי רשב”י ור”א בנו אשר קבורים בעיר מירון כנודע ואוכלים ושותי’ ושמחים שם אני ראיתי למוז”ל שהלך לשם פ”א ביום ל”ג לעומר הוא וכל אנשי ביתו וישב שם שלשה ימים ראשו’ של השבוע ההו’ וזה היה פעם הא’ שבא ממצרים אבל אין אני יודע אם אז היה בקי ויודע בחכמה הזו הנפלאה שהשיג אח”כ. והה”ר יונתן שאגי”ש העיד לי שבשנה הא’ קודם שהלכתי אני אצלו ללמוד עם מוז”ל שהוליך את בנו הקטן שם עם כל אנשי ביתו ושם גילחו את ראשו כמנהג הידוע ועשה שם יום משתה ושמחה

On the custom of Israel going on Lag b’Omer to the grave of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai and Rabbi Elazar his son (who are buried in the town of Meron as is known) and to eat and drink and rejoice there—I saw that my teacher, of blessed memory [the Arizal], that he went there once on Lag b’Omer with his whole family and remained there for three days, until the start of the sixth week [of the Omer]. And this was that one time, when he came from Egypt, but I do not know if he was then knowledgeable in this wisdom that he would later attain. And Rav Yonatan Sagis related to me that in the first year before I went to him to learn with my teacher of blessed memory, he took his small son with his whole family and there they cut his hair according to the known custom, and he held a feast and celebration there.

First, what we see in this passage is that the Arizal apparently only visited Meron on Lag b’Omer once, when he just made aliyah from Egypt, and before he had become the pre-eminent Kabbalist in Tzfat. (Some say this was actually before he made aliyah, and was simply on a trip to Israel.) Lag b’Omer is the 5th day of the 5th week of the Omer, and the Arizal stayed there for the remainder of the fifth week. Rav Chaim Vital wonders whether the Arizal was already an expert mystic at the time or not. Once he became the leader of the Tzfat Kabbalists, the Arizal apparently never made it a point to pilgrimage to Meron on Lag b’Omer. Rabbi Vital notes just that one time in the past, and it almost seems like once the Arizal was a master mystic, he understood there was nothing particularly mystical about it. In any case, nothing is said here of cutting hair.

The next part of the passage is more problematic. To start, it is unclear whether Rabbi Vital means that he and the Arizal went to study with Rav Yonatan Sagis, or that he and Rav Sagis went to study with the Arizal. We know that Rabbis Sagis and Vital were later both students of the Ari. However, when the Ari first came to Tzfat he was essentially unknown, and was briefly a disciple of other Kabbalists, namely the Ramak (Rabbi Moshe Cordovero, 1522-1570). In fact, the Arizal only spent a couple of years in Tzfat before suddenly passing away at a very young age. Whatever the case, it is unclear from the passage whether it was the Arizal or Rav Sagis who was the one to take his son for a haircut on Lag b’Omer. Based on the context, it would appear that it was Rav Sagis who did so, not the Arizal, since we already learned that the Arizal did not make it a point to pilgrimage to Meron.

The nail on the coffin may come from an earlier passage in the same section of Sha’ar HaKavanot, where we read:

ענין הגילוח במ”ט ימים אלו לא היה מוז”ל מגלח ראשו אלא בערב פסח ובערב חג השבועות ולא היה מגלח לא ביום ר”ח אייר ולא ביום ל”ג לעומר בשום אופן

On the matter of shaving during these forty-nine days [of the Omer], my teacher of blessed memory did not shave his head [hair], except for the evening of Passover and the evening of Shavuot, and would not shave his hair at all [in between], not on Rosh Chodesh Iyar, and not on Lag b’Omer.

According to the Arizal, one should not shave at all during the entire Omer period, including Lag b’Omer! If that’s the case, then the Ari certainly wouldn’t take his child to Meron for a haircutting on Lag b’Omer. It must be that the previous passage is referring to Rav Sagis. Nowhere else in the vast teachings of the Arizal is the custom of waiting until a boy’s third birthday (whether on Lag b’Omer or not) mentioned. Thus, the Arizal was not the custom’s originator, did not expound upon it, and most likely did not even observe it.

So where did it come from?

A Far-Eastern Custom

While no ancient Jewish mystical or halakhic text before the 17th century appears to mention upsherin, a similar custom is discussed in much older non-Jewish sources. The Kalpa Sutras of the ancient Hindu Vedic schools speak of a ceremony called Chudakarana or Mundana, literally “haircutting”. It is supposed to be done before a child turns three, usually at a Hindu temple. It is explained that the hair a child is born with it connected to their past life, and all the negative things which that may entail. Removing this hair is symbolic of leaving the past life behind and starting anew. Interestingly, a small lock of hair is usually left behind, called a sikha, “flame” or “ray of light”, as a sign of devotion to the divine. This is surprisingly similar to the Chassidic custom of leaving behind the long peyos at the upsherin.

Hindu Sikha and Chassidic Peyos

From India, the custom seemingly moved across Asia to Arabia. One Muslim tradition called Aqiqah requires shaving the head of a newborn. Of this practice, Muhammad had apparently stated that “sacrifice is made for him on the seventh day, his head is shaved, and a name is given him.” An alternate practice had Muslims take their boys to the graves of various holy people for their first haircut. The Arabic for “haircut” is halaqah, which is precisely what the Mizrachi Jews of Israel called upsherin. Thus, it appears that Jews in Muslim lands adopted the custom from their neighbours. However, many of them waited not until the child is three, but five, which is when the Mishnah (Avot 5:22) says a child must start learning Torah. (In this case, the practice has nothing to do with the mitzvah of orlah or any connection to a sapling.)

In the early 19th century, Rabbi Yehudah Leibush Horenstein made aliyah to Israel and first encountered this practice of “the Sephardim in Jerusalem… something unknown to the Jews in Europe.” He was a Hasid, and in that time period many more Hasidim were migrating to Israel—a trend instigated by Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk (c. 1730-1788), the foremost student of the Maggid of Mezeritch (Rabbi Dov Ber, d. 1772), who in turn was the foremost student of the Baal Shem Tov (Rabbi Israel ben Eliezer, 1698-1760) the founder of Hasidism. These hasidim in Israel adopted the practice from the local Sephardim, and spread it to the rest of the Hasidic world over the past century and a half.

While it has become more popular in recent decades, and has been adopted by other streams within Orthodoxy, and even many secular Israelis and Jews, upsherin is far from universally accepted. The Steipler (Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky, 1899-1985) was particularly upset about this practice (see Orchos Rabbeinu, Vol. I, pg. 233). When a child was brought before Rav Yitzchok Zev Soloveitchik of Brisk (1886-1959) for an upsherin, he frustratingly replied: “I am not a barber.” Other than the fact that it is not an established or widespread Jewish custom, there is a serious issue of it being in the category of darkei Emori, referring to various non-Jewish (and potentially idolatrous) practices.

Not So Fast

While there is no mention of the upsherin that we know today in ancient Jewish mystical or halakhic texts, there is mention of something very much related. In one of his responsa, the great Radbaz (Rabbi David ibn Zimra, c. 1479-1573) speaks of a practice where some people take upon themselves a “vow to shave their son in the resting place of Samuel the Prophet” (see She’elot v’Teshuvot haRadbaz, siman 608).

Recall that Samuel was born after the heartfelt prayer of his mother Hannah who was barren for many years. She came to the Holy Tabernacle in Shiloh and vowed that if God gave her a son, she would dedicate him to divine service from his very birth, and he would be a nazir his entire life (I Samuel 1:11). This means that he would never be allowed to shave or trim the hair of his head, just as the Torah instructs for anyone taking on a nazirite vow. There is something particularly holy about this, and we see earlier in Scripture how an angel comes to declare the birth of the judge Samson and instructs the parents to ensure he would be a nazirite for life, and that no blade ever come upon his head (Judges 13:5).

The Tanakh goes on to state that once Samuel was weaned, Hannah took him to the Tabernacle and left him in the care of the holy priests so that he could serve God his entire life. How old was he when he was weaned? While it doesn’t say so here, there is an earlier case where the Torah speaks of a child being weaned. This is in Genesis 21:8, where we read how Abraham through a great feast upon the weaning of his son Isaac. Rashi comments here (drawing from the Midrash and Talmud) that Isaac was two years old at the time. For this reason, many Hasidic groups actually perform the upsherin at age two, not three.

Back to the Radbaz, he was born in Spain but was exiled with his family in the Expulsion of 1492. The family settled in Tzfat, where the Radbaz was tutored by Rabbi Yosef Saragossi, the holy “White Saint” credited with transforming Tzfat from a small town of 300 unlearned Jews to a holy Jewish metropolis and the capital of Kabbalistic learning. In adulthood, the Radbaz settled in Fes, Egypt and his fame as a tremendous scholar and posek spread quickly. In 1517, he moved to Cairo and was appointed Hakham Bashi, the Chief Rabbi of Egypt. There, he founded a world-class yeshiva that attracted many scholars. Coming full circle, it was here in the yeshiva of the Radbaz that the Arizal began his scholarly career. In the last years of his life, the Radbaz wished to return to the Holy Land, and made his way back to Tzfat. It is possible that the Arizal left Egypt for Tzfat in the footsteps of his former rosh yeshiva. Ironically, the Radbaz (who lived to age 94, or even 110 according to some sources) would outlive the Arizal (who died at just 38 years of age).

While neither the Arizal nor his old teacher the Radbaz discuss cutting a three-year-old’s hair in particular (or doing it at the tomb of Rashbi), the Radbaz does speak of a personal vow that one may take to cut their child’s hair at the tomb of Samuel the Prophet. This practice comes from emulating Hannah, who took a vow with regards to her son Samuel. Samuel went on to be compared in Scripture to Moses and Aaron (and the Sages say Moses and Aaron combined!) Of course, Hannah never cut her child’s hair at all, but perhaps there is something spiritual in treating the child like a nazirite until the child is “weaned”.

In any case, the question that the Radbaz was addressing is what one must do if they took up such a haircutting vow but are unable to fulfil it because the authorities prohibit Jews from going to the grave sites of their ancestors. From here, some scholars conclude that the Ottoman authorities at the time really must have prohibited Jews from going to the grave of Samuel, near Jerusalem. Thus, it is possible that those Jerusalem Jews who had a custom of going to Samuel’s grave decided to journey to another famous grave instead. Perhaps it was in these years of the early 16th century that the custom to go to Rashbi in Meron (instead of Shmuel near Jerusalem) evolved.

So, there may be something to the upsherin custom after all. Of course, we still don’t know when the practice of going to Samuel’s grave emerged. That appears to have been a local custom (or possibly not a custom at all, but a personal vow) of Jerusalem’s medieval Jewish community. It, too, may have been influenced by neighbouring Muslims who went to the graves of their saints to cut their children’s hair.

Whatever the case, we see that foundations of upsherin are not so clear-cut. Contrary to popular belief, it is neither a universally accepted Jewish custom, nor a mandatory halakhic requirement. It did not originate with the Arizal either, although we do see some basis for it in the writings of the Radbaz. For those who wish to uphold this custom, they have upon whom to rely, and should meditate foremost upon the holy figures of Hannah and Samuel, who appear to be the spiritual originators of this mysterious practice.

The above is an excerpt from Garments of Light, Volume Two. Get the book here!