(ד) ונסתרה. שִׁעוּר שֶׁתֵּרָאֶה לְטֻמְאַת בִּיאָה: (ה) ועד אין בה. הָא אִם יֵשׁ בָּהּ אֲפִלּוּ עֵד אֶחָד שֶׁאָמַר נִטְמֵאת לֹא הָיְתָה שׁוֹתָה (סוטה ד'):
(4) ונסתרה AND SHE WAS ASIDE SECRETLY with him such a period of time wherein there was a possibility for her to become defiled by intercourse (Sotah 4a). (5) ועד אין בה AND THERE BE NO WITNESS AGAINST HER — But if there was even only one witness against her who stated that she was defiled she did not drink the מים המאררים, but was henceforth forbidden to her husband (Sotah 2b).
(ה) המרים. עַל שֵׁם סוֹפָן, שֶׁהֵם מָרִים לָהּ (שם כ'): (ו) המאררים. הַמְחַסְּרִים אוֹתָהּ מִן הָעוֹלָם, לְשׁוֹן "סִלּוֹן מַמְאִיר" (יחזקאל כ"ח), וְלֹא יִתָּכֵן לְפָרֵשׁ מַיִם אֲרוּרִים, שֶׁהֲרֵי קְדוֹשִׁים הֵן, וְלֹא אֲרוּרִים כָּתַב הַכָּתוּב, אֶלָּא מְאָרְרִים אֶת אֲחֵרִים, וְאַף אֻנְקְלוֹס לֹא תִרְגֵּם "לִיטַיָּא" אֶלָּא "מְלַטְטַיָּא" — שֶׁמַּרְאוֹת קְלָלָה בְּגוּפָהּ שֶׁל זוֹ:
(5) המרים THE BITTER [WATERS] — They were called bitter waters because of their final effect, viz., that they proved bitter for her (Sifrei Bamidbar 11; Sotah 20a). (6) המאררים means, the waters that make her disappear (pine away) from the world. It has the same meaning as, (Ezekiel. 28:24): “a removing (ממאיר) brier” (one that removed some of the flesh). It would not be correct to explain מים המאררים as מים ארורים, “cursed waters” for actually they are holy (cf. v. 17). Besides, even if the meaning has anything to do with “cursing”, Scripture does not write ארורים, “waters that are cursed”, but מאררים — “that bring a curse to others”; and Onkelos, too, does not render it by ליטיא — “cursed waters” but by מלטטיא — “waters that show a curse on the body of this woman”.
3. What do you think the Torah means by the "mey hamarim," waters of bitterness?
4. What relevance might the Sotah ritual have for us today?
"The challenge here is to stir up a new brew, where men's attempts to control women's bodies are reread as male vulnerability--the first of woman engorging male power through her enveloping sexuality...the Sotah is a unique vehicle for envisioning what is denied, repressed, and silenced in ancient Israelite culture." (504-505)
"Because the concern with ensuring paternity was so strong in Israel, a ritual was devised to further protect the husband from the possibility of a 'wandering wife,' and its attendant loss of prestige. The Sotah ritual described in Num. 5:11-31 is constructed around suspicion of adultery, rather than proof of the crime in which two witnesses were required in order to pass sentence of death. The horror of trial by ordeal applied to the woman accused indicates the social view of adultery. Further, it reflects the patriarchal attempt to assure a husband that his honor could be restored if he had so much as a suspicion that his wife had been fooling around. Female erotic desire, then, was understood as erratic, a threat to the social order. By drowning such desire, the traditional order was assured of continuing dominance over women's bodies." (506)
In seeking certainty, we might choose the path of least resistance: turning around and heading backwards, rushing recklessly towards the nearest destination, and clinging to false promises and false prophets. We would do anything to not have to try something new, to not have to deal with the discomfort of not knowing where we are going
But sometimes there is no easy answer. Our human relationships and our relationship with God are defined by the trust that we place in each other. And in any relationship—divine or human—there will be moments when that trust is broken. We may wish there were some magical litmus test to tell us whether to stay or go, fight or surrender, believe or question. But often, we are required to sit with the uncertainty for longer than we think we can bear.
We often make the mistake of seeking certainty when the situation calls us to have faith....
“Certainty is missing the point entirely. Faith includes noticing the mess, the emptiness and discomfort, and letting it be there until some light returns” (Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith by Anne Lamott).