Is the mezuzah a protective talisman?

At the end of yesterday’s Torah reading, we recounted the instruction received by the Jews in Egypt to smear blood on their doorposts – a show of faith and loyalty which would be repaid by God “Passing Over” their houses during the plague of the firstborn. This command has strong thematic and midrashic connections to a law that they would soon receive, which requires us to affix a mezuzah to our doorposts.

While the Talmud certainly associates mezuzah with supernatural protection, it remains to be understood exactly what this protection consists of and how it works. I was recently sent a fascinating podcast by my friend Simi Rivka Lerner which analysed Rabbi S. R. Hirsch’s approach to this topic (linked in comments).

Simi Rivka Lerner relates a personal encounter with someone who was stopped by the police for driving while using his phone. Rather than using this as an opportunity for self-reflection for acting in a way that potentially threatened the safety of both himself and others, this person’s reaction was “I was caught – I had better check my mezuzahs!”.

While this is perhaps an extreme example it illustrates, according to Rabbi Lerner, the extent to which people relate to mezuzah as a lucky charm – a magical device which wards of evil spirits. In the thinking of Rambam and Rav Hirsch this attitude is not just wrong, but it negates the very purpose of the commandment of mezuzah.

Returning to the instruction to place the blood of the original Korban Pesach on the doorframe, the sages in Mechilta identify a dual symbolic significance of this action. For the Jews inside the house, the blood served to demarcate a living space which was to be sanctified and used for holy purposes. At the same time, the blood on the outside of the doorpost was a powerful public declaration, as Rambam puts it: 

“We were commanded to kill a lamb on Passover… to cleanse ourselves of those [foreign] doctrines, and to publicly proclaim the opposite, to express the belief that the very act of slaughtering the Egyptians’ god, which was then considered as being the cause of death, would bring deliverance from death. This was the reward for publicly performing a service, every part of which was objected to by the idolaters.” (Moreh 3:46)

This dual symbolic significance, teaches Rav Hirsch, is mirrored in the commandment of mezuzah, with the doorpost of one’s home now a constant reminder of God and the Torah. Each time a person enters the house, he continues, they are prompted to recall that the values with which they raise their family – and the way in which they interact with their household members – are to be governed by Torah’s moral and spiritual teachings. And similarly, when leaving the house to enter into the wider world, our dealings with wider society should be premised on the Torah’s teachings and values.

It is these spiritual values and moral teachings which lie at the heart of the mezuzah’s “protective powers”. To quote Rav Hirsch again:

“The mezuzah is not an amulet; in and of itself, it does not protect the house. Only insofar as they shape their lives in accordance with the mezuzah’s content can the people within the house expect help and protection from God.”

Rav Hirsch’s message is consistent with the teachings of Rambam who concludes Hilchot Tefillin veMezuzah with a declaration that:

“Each time a person enters or leaves and encounters the One Name of God Blessed be He, he will recall His love and will be awoken from the foolish and temporary vanities (of this world). And he will know that nothing lasts in this world except for knowledge of the Rock of the world, and he will immediately return to his senses and walk the straight path. The early sages said that everyone who has tefillin on his head and arm, tzitzit on his garment, and a mezuzah on his doorpost is certain not to sin, for he has many reminders (of God’s truth), and these themselves are the angels who will save him from sin, as in says “the angel of God will encamp around those who fear Him and rescue them”.

Judaism Reclaimed notes that what emerges from this passage is that Rambam did not consider these commandments to possess any inherent “magical” protective powers. Rather, by using them as reminders, a person is constantly focused on God and His teachings. Such a person deepens his or her relationship with God, thereby making it more meaningful and profound. As Rambam teaches elsewhere, providence is something which must be earned through a genuine two-way relationship with God, and can be incrementally enhanced as one scales the spiritual ladder.

Commandments such as mezuzah, tefillin and prayer are precious tools through we can deepen and improve our relationship with God. If we simply regard them as a pagan-style talisman or supernatural slot-machine whose “powers” we seek to manipulate for our personal benefit, however, they can instead end up distancing us rather than connecting us to God and His providential protection.

First posted to Facebook 19 March 2023, here.

Blood on the doorpost: Exodus 12 and October 7

“He will see the blood on the lintel and on the two doorposts, and God will pass over the entrance, and He will not permit the destroyer to enter your houses to smite [you].” [Shemot 12:13]

Like so much else I read and hear these days, this verse from yesterday’s Torah reading instantly caused my mind to cross-reference to one of the countless survivor testimonies from the October 7 massacre. The account in question involved several residents of a Kibbutz, who had managed to fight off invading terrorists, fleeing to hide in a damaged building where they smeared ketchup around the door and frame. This, they hoped, would convince the “destroyers” that the building had already been attacked and thereby prevent them from entering.

The symbolism and imagery of blood is striking in the Exodus commemoration. From powerfully quoting Yeshaya’s statement that: “I passed by you and saw you downtrodden with your blood, and I said to you, 'With your blood, live,' and I said to you, 'With your blood, live.'” to the recognition that the very name Pesach is drawn from God’s “skipping over” houses that had been marked out with blood. This act of faith of defying Egyptian terror by marking out our houses with blood plays a central role in the birth of our nation, and is preserved to this day through the command of placing a mezuzah on our doorpost. This too has become particularly poignant at this time, with Jews in parts of the Diaspora debating whether such an outward expression of their Judaism remains safe.

Even after the Exodus, the presence and symbolism of blood in commemorating our emergence as a nation has brought immeasurable pain, with our communities suffering centuries of blood libels and Easter massacres. One visitor to our Seder, whose family originated from Bulgaria told us that his community had stopped the practice of drawing ten drops of red wine to correspond to the ten plagues after an “unfortunate incident” with their non-Jewish neighbours.

Yet the message of the blood and the mezuza also signifies what Judaism has always deemed to be the most proper response to such forms of persecution. Focusing internally and taking pride in our identity and the uniqueness of our nation. In our moral strength and commitment – upon leaving Egypt – to being the island of ethical monotheism among the raging seas of pagan immorality. In our covenant with God which has seen us bear His word to the world and, despite being hated and persecuted for it, outlive both physically and spiritually all of the empires which sought to eradicate us.

Rabbi S. R. Hirsch teaches that this ideological reinforcement lies at the very heart of observance of the commandment of mezuza. Each time we leave our house to engage with the outside world, we pass the mezuza and remind ourselves of the moral and spiritual values which must accompany us and form the basis for all of our interactions. Even more importantly, when re-entering our domestic fortress from the outside world, we must notice the mezuza and once again clarify and strengthen the values through which we want our family life to be built. It is this ideological reinforcement, teaches the Rambam, which explains the protective qualities which our tradition attaches to this commandment.

These symbols have, for me at least, taken on heightened significance in recent days, as they prompt us to remember our national values and to take pride in our national legacy and destiny. While other countries may for now choose to hate and misunderstand us, be jealous and suspicious of us, our prophets have promised that the day will come when they will appreciate and seek to learn from us. Ultimately, our covenant with God means that we and the light that we bring to all nations will ultimately always survive and prevail and spread to the darkest corners of the world.

First posted on Facebook 21 January 2024, here.