(א) אֵיכָה יָשְׁבָה בָדָד הָעִיר רַבָּתִי עָם הָיְתָה כְּאַלְמָנָה רַבָּתִי בַגּוֹיִם שָׂרָתִי בַּמְּדִינוֹת הָיְתָה לָמַס׃ (ס) (ב) בָּכוֹ תִבְכֶּה בַּלַּיְלָה וְדִמְעָתָהּ עַל לֶחֱיָהּ אֵין־לָהּ מְנַחֵם מִכׇּל־אֹהֲבֶיהָ כׇּל־רֵעֶיהָ בָּגְדוּ בָהּ הָיוּ לָהּ לְאֹיְבִים׃ (ס)
(1) Alas! Lonely sits the city Once great with people! She that was great among nations Is become like a widow; The princess among states Is become a thrall. (2) Bitterly she weeps in the night, Her cheek wet with tears. There is none to comfort her Of all her friends. All her allies have betrayed her; They have become her foes.
(ד)הָיְתָה כְּאַלְמָנָה. וְלֹא אַלְמָנָה מַמָּשׁ, אֶלָּא כְאִשָּׁה שֶׁהָלַךְ בַּעְלָהּ לִמְדִינַת הַיָּם וְדַעְתּוֹ לַחֲזוֹר אֶצְלָהּ:
(4)Has become like a widow. But not really a widow; rather, like a woman whose husband went abroad and he intends to return to her.13See Maseches Sanhedrin 104a.
Rashi is picking up on the כ in כאלמנה. This isn't a widow- it's like a widow. Why might Rashi choose to reframe this word?
There's definitely plenty of halakhic material in the Gemara that deals with such a husband. However, we are going to look at one midrash from Eicha Rabbah, the 6th century compilation of midrashic material on the book of Eicha, that also employs this idea that Rashi is picking up on.
*Split up into hevrutas*
In hevruta I want you to parse through this text.
Why would the rabbis chose this metaphor to explain what is happening in the post-Eicha world? How do you think the rabbis are portraying the character of God in the text? What message are they trying to convey? And ultimately, what emotions does the story bring up in you (if any)?
There's definitely plenty of halakhic material in the Gemara that deals with such a husband. However, we are going to look at one midrash from Eicha Rabbah, the 6th century compilation of midrashic material on the book of Eicha, that also employs this idea that Rashi is picking up on.
*Split up into hevrutas*
In hevruta I want you to parse through this text.
Why would the rabbis chose this metaphor to explain what is happening in the post-Eicha world? How do you think the rabbis are portraying the character of God in the text? What message are they trying to convey? And ultimately, what emotions does the story bring up in you (if any)?
אַבָּא בַּר כַּהֲנָא בְּשֵׁם רַבִּי יוֹחָנָן אָמַר מָשָׁל לְמָה הַדָּבָר דּוֹמֶה, לְמֶלֶךְ שֶׁנָּשָׂא מַטְרוֹנָה וְכָתַב לָהּ כְּתֻבָּה מְרֻבָּה, וְאָמַר לָהּ כָּךְ וְכָךְ חֻפּוֹת אֲנִי עוֹשֶׂה לִיךְ, כָּךְ וְכָךְ אַרְגְּוָנוֹת טוֹבוֹת אֲנִי נוֹתֵן לִיךְ. הִנִּיחָהּ הַמֶּלֶךְ וְהָלַךְ לוֹ לִמְדִינַת הַיָּם וְאֵחֵר לְשָׁם. נִכְנְסוּ שְׁכֵנוֹתֶיהָ אֶצְלָה וְהָיוּ מַקְנִיטוֹת אוֹתָהּ וְאוֹמְרוֹת לָהּ הִנִּיחֵךְ הַמֶּלֶךְ וְהָלַךְ לוֹ לִמְדִינַת הַיָּם, וְשׁוּב אֵינוֹ חוֹזֵר עָלַיִךְ, וְהָיְתָה בּוֹכָה וּמִתְאַנַּחַת, וְכֵיוָן שֶׁנִּכְנְסָה לְתוֹךְ בֵּיתָהּ פּוֹתַחַת וּמוֹצִיאָה כְּתֻבָּתָהּ וְקוֹרֵאת, וְרוֹאָה בִּכְתֻבָּתָהּ כָּךְ וְכָךְ חֻפּוֹת אֲנִי עוֹשֶׂה, כָּךְ וְכָךְ אַרְגְּוָנוֹת טוֹבוֹת אֲנִי נוֹתֵן לִיךְ, מִיָּד הָיְתָה מִתְנַחֶמֶת. לְיָמִים בָּא הַמֶּלֶךְ, אָמַר לָהּ בִּתִּי אֲנִי תָּמֵהַּ אֵיךְ הִמְתַּנְתְּ לִי כָּל אוֹתָן הַשָּׁנִים, אָמְרָה לוֹ אֲדוֹנִי הַמֶּלֶךְ אִלְמָלֵא כְּתֻבָּה מְרֻבָּה שֶׁכָּתַבְתָּ וְנָתַתָּ לִי כְּבָר אִבְּדוּנִי שְׁכֵנוֹתַי. כָּךְ עוֹבְדֵי כּוֹכָבִים מוֹנִין אֶת יִשְׂרָאֵל וְאוֹמְרִין לָהֶם, אֱלֹקֵיכֶם הִסְתִּיר פָּנָיו מִכֶּם וְסִלֵּק שְׁכִינָתוֹ מִכֶּם, עוֹד אֵינוֹ חוֹזֵר עֲלֵיכֶם, וְהֵן בּוֹכִין וּמִתְאַנְחִין, וְכֵיוָן שֶׁנִּכְנָסִין לְבָתֵּי כְנֵסִיּוֹת וּלְבָתֵּי מִדְרָשׁוֹת וְקוֹרִין בַּתּוֹרָה וּמוֹצְאִין שֶׁכָּתוּב (ויקרא כו, ט): וּפָנִיתִי אֲלֵיכֶם וְהִפְרֵיתִי אֶתְכֶם וְנָתַתִּי מִשְׁכָּנִי בְּתוֹכְכֶם וְהִתְהַלַּכְתִּי בְּתוֹכְכֶם, וְהֵן מִתְנַחֲמִין. לְמָחָר כְּשֶׁיָּבוֹא קֵץ הַגְּאֻלָּה אוֹמֵר לָהֶם הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא לְיִשְׂרָאֵל בָּנַי אֲנִי תָּמֵהַּ מִכֶּם הֵיאַךְ הִמְתַּנְתֶּם לִי כָּל אוֹתָן הַשָּׁנִים, וְהֵן אוֹמְרִים לְפָנָיו רִבּוֹנוֹ שֶׁל עוֹלָם אִלּוּלֵי תּוֹרָתְךָ שֶׁנָּתַתָּ לָנוּ כְּבָר אִבְּדוּנוּ הָאֻמּוֹת. לְכָךְ נֶאֱמַר: זֹאת אָשִׁיב אֶל לִבִּי, וְאֵין זֹאת אֶלָּא תּוֹרָה, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר (דברים ד, מד): וְזֹאת הַתּוֹרָה. וְכֵן דָּוִד אָמַר (תהלים קיט, צב): לוּלֵי תוֹרָתְךָ שַׁעֲשֻׁעָי אָז אָבַדְתִּי בְעָנְיִי. עַל כֵּן אוֹחִיל לוֹ, וּמְיַחֲדִים שְׁמוֹ שְׁתֵּי פְּעָמִים בַּיּוֹם, וְאוֹמְרִים (דברים ו, ד): שְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל ה׳ אֱלֹקֵינוּ ה׳ אֶחָד.
Abba bar Kahana said: A parable: to what can this situation may be likened? To a king who married a lady and wrote her a long ketubah that enumerated: ‘So many state-apartments I am preparing for you, so many jewels I am preparing for you, and so forth.’ The king left her and went overseas for many years. Her neighbors used to vex her saying, ‘Your husband has deserted you and is not returning! Come and be married to another man.’ She wept and sighed but whenever she went into her room and read her ketubah, and she would see that she was promised such and such state-apartments and such and such jewels and so forth, and she would be consoled. After many years, the king returned and said to her, ‘I am astonished that you waited for me all these years.’ She replied, ‘My lord king, if it had not been for the generous ketubah you wrote me, then surely my neighbors would have won me over.’ So the nations of the world taunt Israel and say, ‘Your God has no need of you; He has hidden his face from you and removed His presence from you. Come to us, and we shall appoint commanders and leaders of every sort for you.’ Israel enters the synagogues and houses of study and reads in the Torah, ‘I will look with favor upon you … and I will not spurn you... And I will reside in your midst.’ (Leviticus 26: 9-11) and they are consoled. In the future, in the Time of Redemption, the Holy One, Blessed be He, will say to Israel, ‘My children, I am astonished that you waited for me all these years,’ and they will reply, ‘Master of the Universe, if it had not been for the Torah which you gave us the nations of the world would have led us astray.’ 'This comforts my heart, for there is nothing other than Torah.' Therefore it is said, ‘This is the Torah (Moses set before the Israelites).' (Deuteronomy 4:44). And also David wrote, 'Were not your teaching my delight, I would have perished in my affliction.' (Psalms 119:92) And it is for this that we join God's name together twice each day, saying, "Hear O' Israel, the Lord is your God, the Lord is One." (Deuteronomy 6:4)
This story suggests that you, as a Jew, aren't chained because God won't give you a get: You're chained because God created a system that chains you to a marriage that God is not present in, and that you are acquired in without your consent, simply by being born a Jew, where no conditional get is present. And at the end, there's one more twist of the knife: When God returns in Atid Lavo, God is "surprised" to see we've stayed, despite, in halakhic language, chaining us to a dead marriage. One could say that God isn't even aware of the cruelty of the system that God has created
״וַיִּתְיַצְּבוּ בְּתַחְתִּית הָהָר״, אָמַר רַב אַבְדִּימִי בַּר חָמָא בַּר חַסָּא: מְלַמֵּד שֶׁכָּפָה הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא עֲלֵיהֶם אֶת הָהָר כְּגִיגִית, וְאָמַר לָהֶם: אִם אַתֶּם מְקַבְּלִים הַתּוֹרָה מוּטָב, וְאִם לָאו — שָׁם תְּהֵא קְבוּרַתְכֶם.
The Gemara cites additional homiletic interpretations on the topic of the revelation at Sinai. The Torah says, “And Moses brought forth the people out of the camp to meet God; and they stood at the lowermost part of the mount” (Exodus 19:17). Rabbi Avdimi bar Ḥama bar Ḥasa said: the Jewish people actually stood beneath the mountain, and the verse teaches that the Holy One, Blessed be He, overturned the mountain above the Jews like a tub, and said to them: If you accept the Torah, excellent, and if not, there will be your burial.
^this is the text referenced below
#MeToo at Mount Sinai, Rachel Stromel
(The) Gemara underscores an important principle about consent, one which is particularly relevant today in the wake of #MeToo: relationships of unequal power preclude consent, both legally and ethically. Consent is more than just the answer of “yes” or “no” in a vacuum; its meaningfulness is entirely dependent on social hierarchies and imbalances of power serving as its backdrop.
Unequal power makes consent impossible — even when the threat of exercising that power is not immediate and even if the party with greater power behaves benevolently. The mountain held over the Jewish people was coercive not only because of God’s terrifying ability to mete out plagues, but also because of His magnanimity in making manna, the nourishing miracle food, fall from the sky.
Similarly, in Jewish marriage law, a man’s ability to cruelly withhold a get from his wife is no less an expression of his power than his ability to charitably grant one to her. The very structuring of their relationship as unequal — irrelevant to their behavior within that structure — renders consent conceptually impossible. Where does this leave us if we want to foster lives and relationships built on meaningful choice, positive participation and conscious agency?
"The Gemara makes it clear that the Purim model of accepting the Torah out of free will was superior to that of Mount Sinai. Truly consenting to God’s offer on Purim forged an active covenant between the Divine and the Jewish people, one with the strength and integrity to outlast all others. The Midrash Mishlei notes, “All the festivals are destined to be cancelled (in the messianic age), but the days of Purim will never be cancelled, as it is written: ‘And the days of Purim will not pass away from among the Jews.’”"- next paragraph of Rachel Stromel, if you want to use
#MeToo at Mount Sinai, Rachel Stromel
(The) Gemara underscores an important principle about consent, one which is particularly relevant today in the wake of #MeToo: relationships of unequal power preclude consent, both legally and ethically. Consent is more than just the answer of “yes” or “no” in a vacuum; its meaningfulness is entirely dependent on social hierarchies and imbalances of power serving as its backdrop.
Unequal power makes consent impossible — even when the threat of exercising that power is not immediate and even if the party with greater power behaves benevolently. The mountain held over the Jewish people was coercive not only because of God’s terrifying ability to mete out plagues, but also because of His magnanimity in making manna, the nourishing miracle food, fall from the sky.
Similarly, in Jewish marriage law, a man’s ability to cruelly withhold a get from his wife is no less an expression of his power than his ability to charitably grant one to her. The very structuring of their relationship as unequal — irrelevant to their behavior within that structure — renders consent conceptually impossible. Where does this leave us if we want to foster lives and relationships built on meaningful choice, positive participation and conscious agency?
"The Gemara makes it clear that the Purim model of accepting the Torah out of free will was superior to that of Mount Sinai. Truly consenting to God’s offer on Purim forged an active covenant between the Divine and the Jewish people, one with the strength and integrity to outlast all others. The Midrash Mishlei notes, “All the festivals are destined to be cancelled (in the messianic age), but the days of Purim will never be cancelled, as it is written: ‘And the days of Purim will not pass away from among the Jews.’”"- next paragraph of Rachel Stromel, if you want to use
Yosl Rakover Talks to God, p7
God has hidden His face from the world and delivered mankind over to its own savage urges and instincts. This is why I believe that when the forces of evil dominate the world, it is, alas, completely natural that the first victims will be those who represent the holy and the pure. To each of us as individuals, perhaps this brings no comfort. Yet as the destiny of our people is determined not by worldly but by otherworldly laws, not material and physical but spiritual and godly, so must the true believer see in these events a part of God's great leveling of the scales, in which even human tragedies weigh little. But this does not mean that the devout among my people must simply approve what is ordained and say, "The Lord is just and His decrees are just." To say that we have earned the blows we have received is to slander ourselves. It is a defamation of the Shem Hameforash, a profanation of His Holy Name — a desecration of the name "Jew," a desecration of the name "God." It is one and the same. God is blasphemed when we blaspheme ourselves...
God has hidden His face from the world and delivered mankind over to its own savage urges and instincts. This is why I believe that when the forces of evil dominate the world, it is, alas, completely natural that the first victims will be those who represent the holy and the pure. To each of us as individuals, perhaps this brings no comfort. Yet as the destiny of our people is determined not by worldly but by otherworldly laws, not material and physical but spiritual and godly, so must the true believer see in these events a part of God's great leveling of the scales, in which even human tragedies weigh little. But this does not mean that the devout among my people must simply approve what is ordained and say, "The Lord is just and His decrees are just." To say that we have earned the blows we have received is to slander ourselves. It is a defamation of the Shem Hameforash, a profanation of His Holy Name — a desecration of the name "Jew," a desecration of the name "God." It is one and the same. God is blasphemed when we blaspheme ourselves...
I love the twist that he makes here. God is cruelly making humankind suffer, and we need not say that "God is just and God's decrees are just." That is a desecration of... God's name. Yosl Rakover sees a cruel God as desecrating the name (nature? positive attributes?) of God.
Yosl Rakover Talks to God, p8
Being a Jew is an inborn virtue, I believe. One is born a Jew as one is born an artist. One cannot free oneself of being a Jew. That is God's mark upon us, which sets us apart as His chosen people. Those who do not understand this will never grasp the higher meaning of our martyrdom. "There is nothing more whole than a broken heart," a great rabbi once said; and there is also no people more chosen than a permanently maligned one. If I were unable to believe that God had marked us for His chosen people, I would still believe that we were chosen to be so by our sufferings.I believe in the God of Israel, even when He has done everything to make me cease to believe in Him. I believe in His laws even when I cannot justify His deeds. My relationship to Him is no longer that of a servant to his master, but of a student to his rabbi. I bow my head before His greatness, but I will not kiss the rod with which He chastises me.
God has chosen us (without our consent) by making us suffer while God hides his face. He is retelling, in a particular way grounded in Holocaust theology, exactly the story we found in our midrash. And while we continue to believe in (wait for?) God, the relationship has fundamentally changed due to the nature of our bondage to our chosenness and our suffering. Perhaps most incredibly, Yosl Rakover twists the piece of the Midrash where the Jews go into their study houses and are consoled by reading the Torah to remind themselves of their relationship to God. Rakover suggests that to believe in God in a world full of suffering, where God has hidden His face and refused to intervene, is actually a rebellion and act of subversiveness against... God.
Yosl Rakover Talks to God, p8
Being a Jew is an inborn virtue, I believe. One is born a Jew as one is born an artist. One cannot free oneself of being a Jew. That is God's mark upon us, which sets us apart as His chosen people. Those who do not understand this will never grasp the higher meaning of our martyrdom. "There is nothing more whole than a broken heart," a great rabbi once said; and there is also no people more chosen than a permanently maligned one. If I were unable to believe that God had marked us for His chosen people, I would still believe that we were chosen to be so by our sufferings.I believe in the God of Israel, even when He has done everything to make me cease to believe in Him. I believe in His laws even when I cannot justify His deeds. My relationship to Him is no longer that of a servant to his master, but of a student to his rabbi. I bow my head before His greatness, but I will not kiss the rod with which He chastises me.
God has chosen us (without our consent) by making us suffer while God hides his face. He is retelling, in a particular way grounded in Holocaust theology, exactly the story we found in our midrash. And while we continue to believe in (wait for?) God, the relationship has fundamentally changed due to the nature of our bondage to our chosenness and our suffering. Perhaps most incredibly, Yosl Rakover twists the piece of the Midrash where the Jews go into their study houses and are consoled by reading the Torah to remind themselves of their relationship to God. Rakover suggests that to believe in God in a world full of suffering, where God has hidden His face and refused to intervene, is actually a rebellion and act of subversiveness against... God.
(כ) לָמָּה לָנֶצַח תִּשְׁכָּחֵנוּ תַּעַזְבֵנוּ לְאֹרֶךְ יָמִים׃ (כא) הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ ה׳ אֵלֶיךָ (ונשוב) [וְנָשׁוּבָה] חַדֵּשׁ יָמֵינוּ כְּקֶדֶם׃ (כב) כִּי אִם־מָאֹס מְאַסְתָּנוּ קָצַפְתָּ עָלֵינוּ עַד־מְאֹד׃
(20) Why have You forgotten us utterly, forsaken us for all time? (21) Take us back, O LORD, to Yourself, and let us come back; Renew our days as of old! (22) For truly, You have rejected us, bitterly raged against us.
The dynamic that the verse suggests is that not only has God distanced Himself from us, but that we have also distanced ourself from God (as Yosl Rakover would put it, the relationship has changed from servant/master to student/rabbi). In order to reconcile the relationship and create the equal, egalitarian relationship based on mutual consent that Rachel Stromel suggests, we BOTH have to return to one another.
I'm not here to suggest that you MUST subscribe to the thesis here or that this must be your relationship with God. God in Judaism has many faces and people experience God in many ways. I'm here to suggest that Tisha B'Av forces us to reckon with a cruel, disinterested, and even absent God that, like a husband unwilling to give his wife a get, keeps us trapped in a violent and abusive relationship with an asymmetric power disparity. Rachel Stromel is asking an earnest question: Where does this leave us if we want to foster lives and relationships built on meaningful choice, positive participation, and conscious agency with God and Torah? It's a question I think we all have to consider.