If a circumcised man wants to convert to Judaism, does he need to be circumcised (or at least cut) again?
I’ve heard both yes and no - does it vary by synagogue?
If he converts to Reform Judaism, he’s good to go.
Haj
In Orthodox Judaism, they will do what is called hatafas dam bris, which will basically entail a pinprick and a small drop of blood.
Zev Steinhardt
BTW, in Reform Judaism, if you are not circumcised, some rabbis will let you get away with just a hatafas dam bris.
Haj
My friend’s husband converted Reform and had the Hatafat dam brit done.
Needless no say, no pun intended. ;j
Zev, is there a big party for a hatafas dam bris like there is for an infant’s bris? Like having family and friends in theroom? Or is it just you and the rabbi?
Oy!
Let me give you a “tip” don’t do it!
…because circumcision alone just doesn’t cut it.
Haj
I’ve never been to one, so I really couldn’t say.
Personally speaking, while maybe a semi-public party (friends and family) might be called for for a reception, I certainly wouldn’t want anyone unnecessary at the actual procedure.
Zev Steinhardt
I converted under the supervision of a Conservative rabbi, so anything I say should be taken as applicable only to that movement (and probably not even universally within that movement). In my case, the hatafat dam brit took place the same day as my appearance before the bet din, the rabbinical court that convenes to interview the prospective convert as one of the final steps toward conversion. Since my rabbi’s Conservative synagogue did not have a mikvah of its own, the bet din convened at a Traditional synagogue across town. The hatafat dam brit was the first order of business. The services of a mohel who happened to also be a physician were engaged for the purpose. The standard procedure for this rabbi and mohel is that the convert and the mohel alone are present for the act itself; the mohel draws a drop of blood using a syringe, the drop of blood being then transferred to a gauze pad and then shown to the rabbi. The mohel and I adjourned to the shower area for the mikvah, where I proceded to drop trou with my back to the wall.
At this point, things became difficult. Apparently, the rural physician who’d performed my infant circumcision thirty-odd years before in Arkansas hadn’t been up to the mohel’s standards, and there was some question in the mohel’s mind about the validity of the job. He determined that he need to consult with the rabbi, who was duly summoned, and compelled to examine the evidence himself. You haven’t really lived until you’ve come into a shower room with another guy who’s got a syringe he plans to stick in your penis to draw a drop of blood (which is bad enough), only to have to drag a rabbi in to discuss and debate the theological implications of the state of said member. I maintain to this day that I was in fact the most unsettled of the trio, but I concede that neither the rabbi nor the mohel appeared to be much enjoying themselves either. Eventually, the rabbi declared himself satisfied of my qualifications, and we were able to proceed with what was supposed to have been the painful part.
Next, came the appearance before the bet din, consisting of my rabbi and two other Conservative rabbis. There was a certain initial awkwardness, since during the whole hatafat dam brit episode they’d been kept waiting longer than they’d expected, and at one point my rabbi had excused himself from our little conclave in the shower room to consult with his colleagues. After getting past that, we discussed my motives for converting, my understanding of what that meant, the reaction of my family and others around me, and so forth. Idly, the thought crossed my mind that it’d be a heck of a note for them to decide I wasn’t up to snuff after what I’d already voluntarily been through that day, but in fact the members of a bet din generally assume that none of their colleagues will bring a prospective convert before them who’s not able to pass muster.
Anyway, after what turned out to be a pleasant and rewarding conversation between the rabbis and myself, I proceeded to the mikvah, did the dip, and then met up again with the rabbis and my fiancee for the final formalities (bestowing of my Hebrew name, the rabbis signing a certificate that I had completed the expected steps to formally accept for myself the covenantal obligations of Jews, etc). Altogether a much lower-key affair than the typical bris, though not without a certain drama of its own.
What do you call an uncircumcised Jewish baby?
A girl.
I’m sorry, but I hardly ever get to tell that joke . . .
Gairloch
Jeez rackensack, what a day! Sure was a lot more interesting than my Methodist confirmation!
Mine too! (I was raised Methodist).
Whazzat?
Converts to Judaism are required to immerse in a mikveh (ritual bath).
Zev Steinhardt
Like a baptism?
Full immersion, or just a splash?
Full immersion, fully nude, in the presence of witnesses (in my case, the members of the bet din, in a special facility built for the purpose typically.