Tag Archives: Impurity

Origins & Development of Niddah Restrictions

This week’s parasha, Metzora, introduces us to the laws of menstrual purity, or niddah. Over the centuries, these laws expanded considerably and became so complex that they required a whole tractate in the Mishnah and Talmud, followed by many more halakhic texts. In the Torah, however, the law is quite simple and straightforward:

When a woman has a flow, her flow being blood from her body, she shall remain in her menstrual separation seven days; whoever touches her shall be impure until evening. Anything that she lies on during her menstrual separation shall be impure; and anything that she sits on shall be impure. Anyone who touches her bedding shall wash their clothes, bathe in water, and remain impure until evening… (Leviticus 15:19-21)

Once a woman’s period starts, she becomes ritually impure for a seven-day period. Things she touches become impure as well, and anyone who touches those things will contract the impurity. This was really only relevant during Temple times, and mattered particularly for those who wanted to go to the Temple. Therefore, since the destruction of the Temple, we are not concerned with contracting impurity by touching the bedding or others items that a niddah touched. That said, there is still a halakhic prohibition for a man to touch his wife while she is niddah, not because of the concern of contracting impurity, but because of the concern that it will lead to more intimate contact.

The Torah says that the total period of impurity is seven days. At the conclusion of seven days, the woman needs to immerse, and then she is permitted to her husband. (The Torah does not explicitly say that a woman has to immerse after her period is over, but since it says that anyone that touches her or her bedding needs to immerse, we derive from this that the woman herself needs to immerse as well. Yehudai Gaon, in the late 8th century, wrote it succinctly in his responsa that the tevilah immersion requirement is a kal v’homer, an a fortiori derivation, from one that touches a niddah, קל וחומר ממגעה).

So, according to the Torah, for a regular period the total time of husband-wife separation is seven days, counting from the start of the period. Scientifically, the average length of a woman’s period is 5.2 days, so by day 7 the period is over in the vast majority of cases, and the woman can be purified. What happens if the period runs longer than 7 days? Or what if there is unexpected bleeding at a time when a period is not imminent? The Torah continues:

When a woman has a flow of blood for many days, not at the time of her menstrual separation, or when she has a discharge beyond her period of menstrual separation, she shall be impure, as though at the time of her menstrual separation, as long as her discharge lasts… When she becomes purified of her discharge, she shall count off seven days, and after that she shall be pure. (Leviticus 15:25-28)

In this case, the requirement is to wait until the bleeding stops, and then count seven “clean” days. This is not a regular case of menstrual niddah (also called davah in the Torah), but rather a case of zavah, an irregular flow of blood. At some point in history, a switch was made where every case of a regular period was treated as a zavah, and henceforth a woman has to wait for her period to end, and only then start the count of seven clean days. When, and why, did this happen?

The Mystery of a Halakhic Leap

Mustard seeds

Neither the Torah (the Written Law) nor the Mishnah (the Oral Law) says anything about waiting an additional week for a regular period. So when did this leap occur? The standard answer is that it occurred in the Talmudic era (roughly 200-500 CE). The Talmud (Niddah 66a) famously quotes Rabbi Zeira saying that “Jewish women were stringent with themselves to the extent that even if they see a drop of blood the size of a mustard seed, they sit seven clean days for it.” Presumably this is the justification for waiting seven more clean days after a period. However, this statement is taken entirely out of context!

What’s actually going on is that the Talmud here is discussing various strange cases of irregular bleeding, zavah, not cases of regular periods. We are then told that Rabbi Yehuda haNasi (compiler of the Mishnah) made a decree for those Jews living in rural areas who did not have much Torah wisdom or access to a qualified rabbi. For those Jews “in the fields”, if a woman saw irregular bleeding for one day, she should wait six more “clean” days before being intimate again. If she saw bleeding for two days, she should also wait six more clean days. And if she saw blood for three straight days, then she should essentially be considered a zavah and wait the full seven clean days.

Immediately after this we are told by Rabbi Zeira that Jewish women took upon themselves to wait the full seven clean days even for a mustard seed of a blood. In context, the conversation is clearly referring to irregular and unexpected bleeding, not to regular menstruation. Shortly after on the same page of Talmud, Rav Pappa cites Rabbi Zeira’s dictum, but Rava (who lived c. 280-352 CE) objects and says “I speak to you of a prohibition, and you speak to me of a custom?! Where the Jewish women were stringent, they were stringent; where they were not stringent, they were not stringent!” Rava confirms that this was actually not a universal custom.

Elsewhere (Berakhot 31a), the Talmud states that Rabbi Zeira’s position eventually did become the “conclusive halakhah” everywhere, not to be disputed. Yet, that discussion was clearly about cases of irregular bleeding, not regular menstruation. For any unexpected and irregular bleeding, even if it was just a mustard seed, or just for a day, the halakhah was to wait an extra seven clean days just in case. This is pretty reasonable and makes sense. Presumably, it wouldn’t happen too often anyway. It had nothing to do with regular, expected menstruation.

In fact, we are also told that Rabbi Ishmael had asked Rabbi Yehuda haNasi (the same one who made the “decree in the fields”) to take upon himself three additional stringencies (Pesachim 112b). One of them was to wait an extra night after his wife goes to the mikveh before being intimate. And Rav confirms here that this is referring to niddah d’oraita, to the total seven days from the start of a period, as the Torah commands. Meaning, in the times of Rabbi Yehuda haNasi women undoubtedly still kept one week total from the start of the period, and there was no extra seven clean days for regular menstruation. Rabbi Yehuda haNasi took upon himself an added stringency of waiting an extra day, ie. eight days total. So when did waiting seven clean days for a regular period really emerge?

By the time of the Rishonim (c. 1000-1500 CE), everyone seems to understand that Rabbi Zeira’s position includes regular periods, too. Rashi says it (on Berakhot 31a, for instance) and Rambam, too (multiple times, including Hilkhot Issurei Biah 11:4). It’s not clear how that leap occurred. At some point between the Talmud and the Rishonim, the understanding of Rabbi Zeira’s dictum changed. But was it really universal for the “daughters of Israel” to keep seven clean days for periods? That was certainly not the case in Talmudic times (as we saw above), and the historical record suggests that it wasn’t even the case in the times of the Rishonim. In fact, we can prove it from the Rambam himself, based on a surprising edict he decreed in 1176 CE.

The Rambam Decree

In the 12th century, Egypt was home to probably the largest Jewish population in the world. A strong and relatively tolerant government made it a generally good place to live for Jews. The Rambam (Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, 1138-1204) himself found refuge there, after first fleeing Cordoba in Spain, then fleeing Fez in Morocco, and failing to settle in Israel. Did the Jewish women of Egypt at the time keep seven clean days? Not at all. And we know this because the Rambam actually gathered nine other big rabbis in Egypt and composed a decree that they all signed. We have the full text of the decree available to us today. Amazingly, one original copy was even found in the Cairo Genizah.

The decree chastises Jewish women for not keeping the seven clean days, and for also not immersing properly in a mikveh. Instead, most women at the time waited seven days from the start of the period (like the Torah says) and then did a washing called sakb, where they sat in a bath and water was poured over them by a woman who was pure. In an attempt to eliminate this practice, and compel women to keep seven extra clean days after their period, the Rambam ruled that any woman who does not follow the rabbinic stringencies forfeits her ketubah.

… Every Jewish woman who does not immerse in mikveh water after counting seven clean days according to the laws of the daughters of Israel, or who performs the aforementioned sakb—this woman may be divorced without a dower [ketubah] and retains no (right) either to a dower or to any marriage contract [ketubah] stipulations…

The Rambam and his colleagues didn’t stop there. They had to force the men to comply, too, so they decreed:

Likewise, we resolved that any man proven to have had intercourse with his wife while [violating] one of these three sins, and knew that (this was the case) and remained silent, and did not state this in court until the time of divorce—the court should excommunicate this man, humiliate him, expel him from the congregation, and fine him, according to the court’s capacity to deal with this man, and as the judge sees fit and as the times permit.

What do we learn from this? That even as late as the 12th century, in the largest Jewish community in the world, the vast majority of women did not wait seven clean days after their periods. The stringency had to be enforced by rabbinic decree, with strict and harsh penalties for anyone who resisted. In the Talmudic era, no such stringency existed—the Talmud was clearly referring to waiting seven clean days for irregular bleeding in potential cases of zavah, not for regular periods. By the time of the Rishonim, the switch was made to include all cases of bleeding, and henceforth was imposed by the rabbis. The Ramban (Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, 1194-1270) confirms this, writing “that stringency that the daughters of Israel initiated was approved by the Sages so they made it the halakhah in all places, and therefore it is forbidden for a person to ever be lenient with it.” (Hilkhot Niddah 1:19)

Looking for Answers

Is there any way to explain the great halakhic niddah leap? One suggestion, as proposed by Shai Secunda in his The Iranian Talmud and The Talmud’s Red Fence, is that it came out of “religious competition” with neighbouring Zoroastrians in the Persian Empire. Recall that the Talmud was composed in the Persian Empire, and the Savoraim and early Geonim who compiled, finalized, and published the Talmud all lived under Persian-Zoroastrian authority. The Zoroastrians were also very strict with niddah laws, so it could well be that their stringencies rubbed off on Jewish communities and on Jewish practice. In fact, we are even told in the Talmud (Niddah 20b) that the Zoroastrian queen Ifra Hormiz tested Rava for his knowledge and expertise on menstrual blood. (For lots more on this, see the third installment of the Judaism vs. Zoroastrianism class, that focused on the development of niddah laws in the Zoroastrian context.) Moreover, the Zoroastrian Old Persian word for niddah, dastana or dashtana, appears multiple times in the Talmud (such as in Avodah Zarah 18a). It’s quite possible that Jews and Zoroastrians took on ever-stricter niddah stringencies in a case of religious oneupmanship, to outdo one another in holiness.

Another possibility is that it emerged simply out of confusion and lack of education. The time period between the Talmud and the Rishonim (roughly 500-1000 CE) is referred to by historians as the “Dark Ages”. In comparison to the eras before and after, there was relatively little science and progress going on at the time, with widespread illiteracy and ignorance. War, poverty, disease, and catastrophes of every kind were rampant. Shockingly, the year 536 CE saw the eruption of a massive volcano (some say several volcanoes) that blacked out much of the sky across the Northern Hemisphere, causing “volcanic winters”, plunging temperatures, low sunlight, and massive crop failures. We have abundant evidence of terrible famines from Western Europe all the way to Eastern China. Some historians have described 536 as the “worst year in human history”. The effects reverberated for many decades. One of the negative effects was that scholarship and education was at a bare minimum. Of course, the Jewish world was just as affected as the rest of the world. Indeed, we find during this time practically no major Jewish scholarship, and few great works emerging.

Timeline of rabbinic eras from 200 BCE to the present.

Think about it: we know a great deal about Jews and rabbis in the Talmudic period (and have thousands of pages and volumes of Talmud and Midrash from this era), and we know a tremendous amount about Jews and rabbis in the era of Rishonim, with so many great sefarim, halakhic codes, mystical texts, and other brilliant works. But what about the period 500-1000 CE? We know hardly anything about it, and have few texts from this era, save for some Geonic responsa and a handful of others. Today, the typical religious Jew has definitely studied Mishnah, Talmud, and Midrash (from the pre-500 CE era) and can list dozens of rabbi names from this time period; and the typical religious Jew has definitely studied Rashi, Tosfot, and Rambam (from the post-1000 CE era) and can name dozens more rabbis from this time period. But how many have studied something from between 500-1000 CE? How many can describe the life of a great rabbi from this time period? (Maybe one, like Saadia Gaon.) How many can even name a famous sefer from this period? How many can name a single one of the Savoraim? If the Talmud was completed around 500 CE, why did it take over five centuries for someone (Rashi) to write a complete commentary on it? Why did it take nearly seven centuries for someone (Rambam) to codify it?

Rabbinic Jewish history clearly had a “Dark Age” as well. There is a gap of several centuries of great scholarship, and the recovery appears to only start in the 800s. (Interestingly, the Rambam credits Saadia Gaon, who lived in the 9th century, with saving Judaism at a time when it hit a particularly low nadir.) It’s probably also in this Dark Age when authentic semikhah ordination was lost, when tekhelet dye stopped being used on tzitzit, and likely many other things forgotten. I believe it’s possible that one of the things that was forgotten or confused were niddah laws, particularly the understanding to distinguish between zavah and a regular niddah.* Perhaps it was during this time that rabbis started to “play it safe” or just make it simpler by demanding seven clean days for any case of blood, regular or irregular, expected or unexpected.** (The widespread malnutrition and famine in the 6th century might have played a role, too, since we know that malnutrition and irregular periods are strongly linked.) The rabbis of that time could justify the expanded prohibition retroactively based on Rabbi Zeira’s old dictum. By the time of the Rishonim, that became the accepted halakhah. Unfortunately, this raises major issues and difficulties.

A Host of Issues

One of the infamous problems that emerges from an extra seven days is “halakhic infertility”. For most women, ovulation begins one week after menstruation ends. For some women, however, ovulation comes early. By the time “mikveh night” comes around it is too late, and the woman is unable to get pregnant. Some women end up going months struggling with infertility and thinking there is something wrong with them, when it is really just a biological quirk of time. If they figure it out (hopefully), they then need to seek a heter from a rabbi to give them permission to immerse earlier. (It’s hard to miss the painful irony of a woman needing a man’s permission to go around a stringency that women allegedly took upon themselves!) Most rabbis are sympathetic, some are not. Things can get particularly complicated in the Ultra-Orthodox world, and women have shared terrible stories of being told nothing can be done, or to try IVF, or to go on pills or hormones to change their cycle.

Note how estrogen (and testosterone) levels peak right before ovulation. Progesterone levels rise after ovulation to prevent another egg from being released. This is why synthetic progesterone is used for birth control or to delay or stop the cycle.

Meanwhile, women who have already fulfilled the mitzvah of reproduction might choose to go on pills or get hormonal IUDs to eliminate their menstrual cycle entirely. There are many women out there who simply don’t want to deal with niddah laws and restrictions at all (understandably), and resort to modern technology to absolve themselves. This leads to a whole new host of issues, including side-effects from the hormones (lower libido, bodily changes and imbalances, weight gain, headaches, to name a few), possible increased risks of illnesses (blood clots and cardiovascular disease, cancer, chas v’shalom), and the spiritual loss of not fulfilling the Torah’s mitzvahs. In an attempt to avoid rabbinic stringencies, women choose to forgo the Torah itself.

For the many women that the above does not apply to, other issues emerge. One is a lack of desire. Biologically, it is after menstruation that estrogen and testosterone levels rise in a woman’s body, peaking at ovulation and then rapidly declining. This can result in more desire during the seven clean days when intimacy is forbidden, and much less when intimacy is permitted. For men, too, there could be a big challenge, having to go nearly two weeks without contact. (While it might sound excessive, the Talmud does state in Ketubot 61b that for a regular free man, daily cohabitation is normal, and for a hard labourer, twice a week is normal. Torah scholars, meanwhile, should limit to once a week, preferably on Shabbat.) It’s not uncommon for men to succumb to temptations during the period of niddah separation, and then commit much worse sins. Again, trying to keep rabbinic stringencies could well lead to violation of actual Torah laws that Hashem commanded. Besides intercourse, the prohibition of any contact at all for an extra week—including a comforting hug after a bad day, or a playful peck on the cheek, or even just passing an object directly to one another; not to mention sleeping in separate beds or separate rooms—makes things all the more difficult, and can put major strain on a marriage.

When we go back to the Torah, Hashem only commanded seven days of separation total for a regular period, which makes perfect sense biologically. He created us and knows what’s best for us. Rabbi Meir adds (Niddah 31b) that the one week of separation is the ideal amount of time for rekindling the passion between husband and wife (אָמְרָה תּוֹרָה: ״תְּהֵא טְמֵאָה שִׁבְעָה יָמִים״, כְּדֵי שֶׁתְּהֵא חֲבִיבָה עַל בַּעְלָהּ כִּשְׁעַת כְּנִיסָתָהּ לַחוּפָּה). What we have before us is not a case of just adding a “fence”, what we have is totally changing how a God-given Torah mitzvah is practiced and fulfilled. And it’s not even based on anything concrete in the Mishnah or Talmud! The consequences of this are troubling and unfortunate. These are all extremely important matters to think about and discuss. The topic is sensitive, yes, and for that reason many avoid it entirely. But that should be all the more reason to have these important conversations, both with spouses and rabbis.

It is worth concluding with Midrash Tehilim on Psalm 146:7, which says that Hashem is matir asurim, “freeing the bound” or “imprisoned” but also, literally, “permitting the forbidden”. The Midrash explains that “There is no greater prohibition than the niddah, when a woman sees blood and God forbids her to her husband. And in the future, He will permit it.” (ומהו מתיר אסורים אין איסור גדול מן הנדה שהאשה רואה דם ואסרה הקב”ה לבעלה. ולעתיד לבוא הוא מתירה.) The Midrash goes on to say that surely not all laws of niddah will be suspended, and that actual cohabitation with a woman on her period will still be forbidden, as the eternal Torah says. Rather, then, in the soon forthcoming time of Mashiach, all of the niddah stringencies and extras will be lifted, and we will go back to a purer observance of the mitzvah, as Hashem commanded in the Torah.

For further discussion of the development of niddah laws (including the connection to the Garden of Eden, and to the case of Sarah and Abraham), see the following class: 

*A regular niddah is called a davah in the Torah (as at the start of parashat Tazria, Leviticus 12:2). The irregular case is called a zavah. I wonder if some of the confusion was linguistic. After all, Aramaic words typically replace the letter zayin in Hebrew words for a dalet. For example, the Hebrew mizbeach (מזבח) is Aramaic midbacha (מדבחא), while Hebrew zakhar (זכר) is Aramaic dakhar (דכר). Following the same rule, the Hebrew zavah (זבה) would be the Aramaic davah (דבה)! Does this have something to do with the confusion of a regular niddah, ie. a davah, with the irregular zavah?

**Another confusion that solidified by the time of the Rishonim is the length of a niddah cycle. Rashi (on Berakhot 31a), Rambam (Issurei Biah, Ch. 6), and others describe that there are “11 days between one niddah and another”. That would imply a menstrual cycle of no more than 18 days, which is impossible, and at no point in human history was this the case biologically. Rabbis and scholars have puzzled over this for centuries, and tried to make sense of it. It is based on the Talmudic dictum that the 11 days following menstruation are days when bleeding would make a woman zavah. This statement is repeated countless times throughout tractate Niddah, but what it originally meant is not exactly clear. It probably only meant that unexpected bleeding during the eleven-day window following menstruation makes a woman zavah, but bleeding after this eleven-day period would not. Bleeding that followed the zavah window, but came before the next period, would be a different case altogether. It seems that by the time of the Rishonim, the gap was shortened and it was assumed that a cycle is 18 days, with the Rambam, for instance, saying that a woman is always vacillating between seven and eleven, seven and eleven, and that “such is a woman’s life: seven days of niddah and eleven days of zivah, etc.”

Understanding Chabad and 770

770 Eastern Parkway, global headquarters of Chabad

At the start of this week’s parasha, Vayetze, Jacob sees a vision of a Heavenly Ladder and receives a blessing from God. He is told: “you shall break out [u’faratzta] westward and eastward and northward and southward; and through you shall be blessed all the families of the Earth and through your seed.” (Genesis 28:14) The term u’faratzta, translated as “break out” or “gain strength” or “spread out”, is something of a slogan and rallying cry among Chabad Hasidim, who’ve made it their mission to bring Judaism to every corner of the globe, “westward, eastward, northward, southward”. It has further significance for Chabad because the verb faratzta (פרצת) has a numerical value of 770, as if alluding to Chabad headquarters at 770 Eastern Parkway in Brooklyn. It was the seventh and last Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson (1902-1994), who transformed Chabad from a small Hasidic group into an international phenomenon. What was his vision? Why did he want to put a “Chabad House” within reach of every Jew around the globe? And what does it really have to do with bringing Mashiach and the Final Redemption?

The sixth and seventh Lubavitcher Rebbes.

In 1940, the previous Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn (1880-1950) arrived in New York City, having fled Warsaw following the Nazi invasion. As the Rebbe was in a wheelchair, he needed an accessible home. A former medical office at 770 Eastern Parkway was the perfect choice, and was purchased for him to live in and to serve as the Chabad main office. His son-in-law (who would become the next Rebbe in 1951) arrived the following year, was put in charge of Chabad’s educational arm, Merkos L’Inyonei Chinuch, and got some office space on the first floor, too. He would take over the movement in those critical years following the Holocaust and the founding of the State of Israel. While his predecessors were officially “anti-Zionist”, the new Lubavitcher Rebbe took a different approach, engaging closely with the State and advising its leaders regularly. While he never visited Israel, he actually never left New York at all from the time he became Rebbe. The groundbreaking events that took place in the years before he took on Chabad leadership had an indelible impact on his vision and philosophy. He was convinced that the time for Redemption had arrived, and he made it clear in his very first discourse, Basi l’Gani.

The Rebbe explained that the seventh generation of Chabad had begun, as he was the seventh rebbe since the Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812), the founder of Chabad. This was comparable to Moses, the seventh generation from Abraham. It was that seventh generation of Moses, the “First Redeemer”, that merited the divine revelation at Mount Sinai. So, too, the Rebbe said, this seventh generation of Chabad would live to see the final divine revelation with Mashiach, the “Final Redeemer”. In his first discourse, the Rebbe made clear that “The spiritual task of the seventh generation is to draw down the Shekhinah truly below…” The Divine Presence must be made manifest in this material world. How is this to be done? The Rebbe said we must remember that “the quality of the seventh of a series is merely that he is seventh to the first” so we must look to the initial mission of the first generation, and finish the job now in the seventh. We must be like the first generation, “like Abraham: arriving in places where nothing was known of Godliness, nothing was known of Judaism, nothing was even known of the alef beit, and while there setting oneself completely aside [to call in God’s Name, as Abraham did].” Torah, mitzvot, and knowledge of God has to be spread as far and wide as possible, u’faratzta!

The Rebbe saw the events of the previous years as being a fulfilment of ancient prophecies about the End of Days, and thus the time was ripe for Redemption. He concluded his discourse like this: “Since we have already experienced all these things, everything now depends only on us—the seventh generation.” Henceforth, his entire mission was centered around bringing that Redemption. A decade later, however, no Redemption had arrived. The Rebbe understood that we must not be doing enough, and need to double down our efforts. In a discourse on Lag b’Omer 1962, the Rebbe explained that we all must be like Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai (“Rashbi”, whose mystical teachings we celebrate on Lag b’Omer):

[Rabbi Shimon] did not wait until he saw a problem, and then set out to correct it. Instead, he sought out problems to correct, asking others: “Is there anything that I could rectify?” And when he was told that there was a place which priests avoided because of a question of ritual impurity, he set out to correct the difficulty. Although the question involved impurity contracted from a human corpse—the most serious form of ritual impurity—Rabbi Shimon was able to make the place suitable even for priests. (Likkutei Sichos, Vol. VIII, pg. 131)

The Rebbe explained that Rashbi was not afraid to go to places of great impurity in order to affect spiritual rectifications. Moreover, the Rebbe continued:

Our Sages also quote Rabbi Shimon as saying: “I can acquit every Jew from the attribute of judgement.” Although there are people who have committed undesirable acts, Rabbi Shimon was able to find grounds for their defense… Rabbi Shimon was willing and able to descend to such a low level because he was among “the superior men who are few in number.”

In other words, Rashbi was one of the first “kiruv rabbis” who went out of his way to reach out to wayward and unobservant Jews. He would see every Jew in a positive light, and find a redeeming quality within them. He would find sinners and help them get back on the right path. He could descend even to the lowest places on Earth without fear of being sullied by the impure surroundings. This has become a fundamental of Chabad philosophy, with Chabad emissaries showing unparalleled ahavat Israel and being widely beloved for their non-judgemental attitude and open arms, along with a willingness to connect with all kinds of Jews on every street corner. Finally, the Rebbe concluded:

… the stories about Rabbi Shimon’s conduct serve as a directive for every Jew in later generations. This has been particularly true ever since the teachings of Pnimiyus haTorah [inner mystical dimensions of Torah], the wisdom of Rabbi Shimon, were revealed. Following Rabbi Shimon’s example, it is necessary for us to “spread the wellsprings outward” to join the two ends of the spiritual spectrum… and spread the “water” to the most extreme peripheries. This will prepare the world for the coming of Mashiach, who will likewise join two extremes… the Redemption will come when the outlook of Rabbi Shimon—who stood above the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash—is spread throughout the world. Rabbi Shimon’s teachings must be spread everywhere, even in places which need correction, even in places which are ritually impure…

The Rebbe here was alluding to a well-known story about the Baal Shem Tov, Rabbi Israel ben Eliezer (1698-1760, founder of Hasidism), who described in a letter how he ascended to Heaven and met Mashiach. When the Baal Shem Tov asked Mashiach when he would come, Mashiach replied that he would come when the Baal Shem Tov’s “wellsprings”, his mystical teachings, would spread worldwide. In this discourse, the Rebbe took things a step further in saying that the wellsprings must spread not only to established Jewish communities around the world or to other receptive audiences, but everywhere, “to the most extreme peripheries”, to the most impure of places.

While the Rebbe had sent emissaries (“shluchim”) to various communities from the very start of his tenure, now he was going to send them even to places of impurity, immorality, and secularism. In 1965, he sent Rabbi Shlomo Cunin to Los Angeles to work specifically with university students, plunging him into the heart of the liberal world at the height of the hippie movement. Four years later, Rabbi Cunin established the first official “Chabad House” at UCLA. In 1972, on his 70th birthday, the Rebbe famously requested a gift from his Hasidim: to open up another 71 Chabad Houses before his 71st birthday! That same year, Rabbi Cunin expanded to UC Berkeley and UC San Diego. The model was quickly replicated around the world, and the rest is history. Today, there are over 5000 Chabad Houses and Chabad institutions in over 100 countries.

While each Chabad institution is really stand-alone and is expected to raise its own funds and manage its own activities, the overall movement is still centrally-run and guided from 770 Eastern Parkway. The headquarters has become something of a shrine and temple of its own. Replicas of the building have been built in other parts of the world, including Jerusalem and Australia. Of course, many within Chabad believe the Rebbe to have been Mashiach (a question we addressed before here), and find proof within the fact that 770 is the value of “Mashiach’s House” (בית משיח), and more support in that the house is in Brooklyn’s Crown Heights neighbourhood. Some within Chabad believe that when Mashiach comes, 770 will be miraculously transported to Jerusalem. A minority fringe has even associated it with the Third Temple itself!

Replicas of 770 in Melbourne, Australia; and in Kfar Chabad and Jerusalem, Israel

Now, there is no doubt that the Lubavitcher Rebbe was a complete tzadik and did more for kiruv in absolute terms than anyone else in history. Nor is there any doubt that no one has done more to bring the Redemption than he did. It is pretty safe to say that while he was alive, he was probably the “presumptive messiah” of the generation, and it is clear from his own teachings that he hoped himself to be as well. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. The Rebbe delivered a difficult speech in April 1991 where he seemingly “gave up”, and left his Hasidim totally confounded. Elderly and frail, just months before suffering a debilitating stroke that left him unable to speak and partially paralyzed, the tearful Rebbe said:

How is it that the Redemption has not yet been attained? That despite all that has transpired and all that has been done, Mashiach has still not come? What more can I do? I have done all I can to bring the world to truly demand and clamour for the Redemption…The only thing that remains for me to do is to give over the matter to you. Do all that is in your power to achieve this thing—a most sublime and transcendent light that needs to be brought down into our world… I have done all I can. I give it over to you. Do all that you can to bring the righteous redeemer, immediately! I have done my part. From this point on, all is in your hands…

Sadly, the Rebbe passed away three years later. Nonetheless, within Chabad there are still those who believe the Rebbe is somehow Mashiach, despite the fact that he has been gone for nearly three decades. Some go even further and hold him to have some kind of divine status. No one is quite sure how prevalent these beliefs are within Chabad, and whether they are subsiding or actually growing stronger. Some say it is only a vocal tiny minority that continues to believe, while others argue there is definitely a silent majority. This puts Chabad in a precarious position:

On the one hand, Chabad is the most successful Jewish organization of all time, with massive resources and many adherents, with branches all over the world touching just about every Jewish community. (A 2005 survey found that over a million Jews attend a Chabad service at least once a year.) Chabad is an absolute success, and has the potential to become the dominant form of Judaism worldwide.

On the other hand, if the messianic fervour does not dissipate, or if it gets stronger, Chabad risks following in the footsteps of other Jewish messianic sects that ended up splitting into their own religions over time, forever waiting for the “second coming” of their messiah. Much depends on Chabad leadership, and what will happen as the older generation passes on and is replaced by younger idealists. It remains to be seen which of the two possibilities materialize in the coming decades: will Chabad save Judaism, or will it fracture it? As someone who had his bar mitzvah at a Chabad synagogue, was married by a Chabad rabbi (alongside a Bukharian one), prayed with a Chabad minyan for many years, and still occasionally participates in Chabad services, I very much hope that it will be the former.

A Mystical Look at Pregnancy and Abortion

Parashat Tazria begins by stating that a woman who gives birth to a son is spiritually impure for seven days, and requires another 33 days of purification afterwards. If she gives birth to a female, the impurity lasts fourteen days, followed by 66 days of purification. The Zohar (III, 43b) comments on this section by first reminding us that each soul has male and female halves, and when the soul enters this world, it splits and enters two different bodies, male and female. If the two soulmates merit it, they will find each other and reunite. We are then told that the female part of the soul is larger and more powerful, which is why a woman who gives birth to a female needs double the purification time.

The Zohar explains why the Torah prescribes these specific time periods: 7 and 33 days for boys; 14 and 66 days for girls. It states that at birth, the soul first enters the body and is in complete disarray. For the first seven days, the unsettled soul “roams the body to find its place”. On the eighth day, the soul is finally getting comfortable in its new home. This is one reason why circumcision is done on the eighth day, once the soul is no longer distressed. The soul then needs an additional 33 days to acclimatize to its new environment until it has completely settled into the body. For the greater female souls, the time periods are doubled.

Note how these time periods are referring to the soul of the newborn, yet it is the mother that is described as being “impure”. This is because the mother carried the child, and its soul was housed within her temporarily. (Perhaps this extra soul is responsible for the well-known “pregnancy glow”.) Once the baby is born, its soul leaves the mother’s shelter and is now independent in the baby’s body. (And that pregnancy glow is gone!) The sudden loss of spiritual energy is difficult on the mother as well, and she requires forty (or eighty) days to get back to herself.

A major question arises here: if the soul only enters the newborn at birth, why is abortion forbidden? Religious groups of various faiths have argued for centuries on when exactly the soul enters the body, and many have taken the stance that a fetus already carries a soul, making abortion indistinguishable from murder. What do Jewish texts say?

Abortion and Gestation in the Talmud

In one passage, the Talmud includes abortion under the category of murder. However, it also famously states that if the mother’s life is at risk—at any point in the pregnancy—the fetus must be removed, “limb by limb” if necessary. In such cases, the fetus is seen as a rodef, a “pursuer”, referring to the Torah law that if one is “pursuing” another to kill them, it is permitted to kill the pursuer first. The Talmud concludes that a fetus can be aborted at any point until its head has emerged. Once the head has emerged, the newborn is considered completely alive, and in cases of life-risk, it is no longer clear who the “pursuer” is. The Sages suggest that the soul fully enters the newborn only at birth, and it is only then that the newborn is a complete person.

Three-month old fetus (Courtesy: BabyCentre)

Elsewhere in the Talmud (Niddah 8b), we are told that the fetus already resembles a person at the three-month mark. We now know that it is precisely around this point that the developing baby has the features of a human (and is no longer called an “embryo”, but a “fetus”). The Talmud adds (Berakhot 60a) that until this three-month mark, a person should pray every day that there shouldn’t be a miscarriage. After three months, a person should pray that the fetus will not be stillborn, and after six months, a person should pray that the mother has an easy delivery. We are told that one should pray for the baby’s desired gender only before the 40-day mark. This, too, shows incredible wisdom on the part of our Sages. Today we know scientifically that the sex organs begin their development around day 42. The ancient rabbis knew that after day 40, gender development is already in progress, and there is no point praying for something different.

In a related passage, we are told that until day 40, the fetus is insignificant and more lifeless than living (Yevamot 69b). Today we know that the neural tube which will make the brain forms around day 40, and this is when the first neurons start signalling. Scientifically speaking, there could be no talk of any kind of consciousness or brain activity before day 40.

Because of this, most rabbinic authorities are far more lenient when it comes to abortions before the 40th day of pregnancy. Rabbi Chaim Ozer Grodzinski (1863-1940), who was widely recognized as the greatest posek of his generation, even suggested that abortions before the 40th day are not Biblically prohibited (Achiezer, III, 65:14). Nevertheless, even before the 40th day there is a potential to produce a living human being, and life is valued above all else, which is why abortions are still forbidden except for cases of absolute necessity.

By the 20-week mark (midway through pregnancy), fetuses are seen rolling around, sucking their thumbs, and responding to the prodding of the ultrasound. There is no doubt that the fetus is alive and aware at this point, and any abortion other than a life risk is hardly distinguishable from murder.

Soul Infusion

The fact that the fetus is aware by the 20-week mark (if not sooner) suggests that it does indeed have some level of soul. Yet, earlier we saw sources seemingly propose that the soul does not enter until birth. How do we reconcile these apparent contradictions?

To answer this question it is important to keep in mind that the soul is not one uniform entity. Rather, the soul is composed of multiple layers, each made up of countless sparks. The lowest level of soul is called nefesh, the basic life essence. Above that is the ruach, “spirit”, an animating force that, among other things, gives a person their drives and inclinations. Then comes the neshamah, a higher level of consciousness and the part that gives one their unique traits and qualities. Further still is the chayah, the aura that emanates from the body, followed by the loftiest level, the yechidah, which may be described as a spiritual umbilical cord between each soul and its Creator.

The Arizal taught that ever-higher levels of soul are accessed gradually over the course of one’s life. At birth, a person has only a complete nefesh. As they grow, they are infused with ruach, which becomes fully accessible at bar or bat mitzvah age. At this point one starts to tap into their neshamah, which is wholly available only at age 20. (For this reason, the Torah considers an adult one who is over 20 years of age. Only those over 20 were counted in the census and allowed to join the military. Our Sages state that although one may be judged for their crimes before age 20 here on Earth, only those sins accrued after age 20 are judged in Heaven. Meanwhile, the Midrash notes that Adam and Eve were created as 20 year olds.) The Arizal taught that most people never end up accessing their entire neshamah, and only the most refined individuals ever unlock their chayah and yechidah.

Based on this model, we see that right from conception the developing embryo is steadily infused with nefesh, the basic life force. By day 40, there is enough nefesh for the embryo to be considered alive. In fact, it is said that this is why the gematria of אם, “mother”, is 41, since a woman becomes a mother on the 41st day of pregnancy.

Once its entire nefesh has been infused, the baby is ready to be born. At birth, it begins to receive its next soul level, the ruach. A careful look at the Zohar passage with which we started reveals that this is precisely what the Zohar meant, as it explicitly mentions the ruach entering at birth, requiring forty days to fully settle in. Therefore, a developing fetus does indeed have a soul, which is why abortion is so highly discouraged—reserved only for true medical cases—and why it has been compared to murder.

Solving a Scientific Mystery

The above also answers a mystery that has been perplexing biologists for decades: what is it that drives an embryo to grow? Why do the cells multiply, and how do they know to differentiate? Each cell is exactly the same, with the exact same set of DNA, yet one clump of cells knows to form the eyes while another knows to form the liver, and so on. Scientists have still not been able to figure out how the embryo “knows” what to do. (For that matter, we can’t figure out how any cell really “knows” what to do.)

The Kabbalists have an answer: it is the steady infusion of soul that drives a mass of undifferentiated cells to do what it needs to. It is the soul that gives the instructions for how the DNA is to be transcribed and translated in each cell, and how the cells are to interact with one another. As the soul grows, so too does the body. It is therefore not surprising that around the age when most people’s bodies stop growing, their souls tend to stop “growing” as well.

This should remind us that our education does not end with formal schooling, nor does maturing stop with the end of puberty. The process of growth and refinement, both physical and spiritual, must continue throughout life. This is the key to true self-fulfillment and happiness.

The article above is an excerpt from Garments of Light. Click here to get the book.