Skip to main content

A Woman of Substance and the Man of His Dreams

So here we go again. The continuity of the narrative is broken even before it gets underway. As we move toward the conclusion of B’midar with this week’s parashah, Mattot, there is some unfinished business to attend to. Vengeance is yet to exacted from Midyan, so that needs to be done. Then there’s the matter of what is to be done with the land of Sichon and Og, extensive tracts of land taken by Israel in battle but, alas, located on the wrong side of the tracks. So, nu, let’s get to work!!

Not so fast. First, Moshe must relate to the heads of the tribes the laws of vows and their annulment, with special reference to one’s daughter or wife.

“Now, Moshe?”, I imagine the heads of the tribes asking as they tap their feet impatiently. “Now we need to learn about vows? Now’s not the time to talk - all the more so to talk about talk - now’s the time to do!”

Yet that is how our parasha begins. Following the initial verse regarding the singular importance of not desecrating any vows or oaths one might take, the subsequent verses explain the powers granted to a father to annul the vow his youthful and impetuous daughter might take to impose on herself some ascetic, if well-meaning regimen – assuming he does so on the day he hears (of) her vow. The same is true of a husband, should the vow impact the relation between the two of them – he may annul the vow upon hearing it. If neither of them act on the first opportunity, they lose this right, and if they subsequently prevent fulfillment of the vow, then guilt for doing so rests upon them.

The text reads very much like a limitation on the power of a father or a husband to impose his will on his daughter or wife: only certain types of vows and oaths, and only on the day of hearing them. Yet the question remains: why is it necessary to allow even that residual power to vest in men?

Let’s let that question rest for the moment, and proceed with the narrative. The next section has Moshe sending off a select group of men drawn equally from each tribe to wreak vengeance upon the Midyanites. They do so, bringing back extensive spoil. But, though they have killed all the males of fighting age, they have spared the women. Moshe is exasperated, noting that it was precisely those women who lured the Israelite men into licentious, idolatrous transgression that brought a divine plague upon the people. Only the minors amongst the females may be spared, all the rest, boys and women, must be killed. This is done and the spoil is divided, with the warriors receiving the largest portion.

The last part of the parasha relates the request of the tribes of Reuven and Gad (and ultimately, part of Menashe) to receive the conquered lands of the Emorites east of the Jordan as their inheritance in the land, seeing as how it is perfect for their needs as herdsmen. Moshe, again, almost loses it, reminding them of the disaster that ensued when the people heeded the spies’ evil report and rejected the land. Gad and Reuven insist that such a thought is the furthest thing from their minds. They will go into the land at the head of the fighting force, after building homes for their women and children, and pens for their flocks, and they will only return to take possession of the their lands only after the land west of the Jordan is parceled out to their brethren. Moshe agrees to this, but not before he makes the two tribes swear a formal oath, in the presence of all the people, with a double condition (if we do…and if we don’t…) that would become the hallmark of the halachic oath.

Though both can take either, we find women taking vows and men taking oaths. What’s the difference between a vow and an oath? The details of the laws of vows and oaths filled an entire tractate each, and there is a great deal of overlap between the two, as the initial verse of our parasha indicates: “Should a man vow a vow to Hashem, or a take an oath to bind a bond on his soul…” But there are some crucial differences, as summarized by the Rambam in Chapter 3 of Hilchot Nedarim:

1) An oath has no effect when there is already a similar oath in place, whereas vows heaped one upon the other are all considered valid;
2) One who hears someone taking an oath and says, “me too” is not bound by that oath, whereas one who does the same with a vow IS bond as though he himself had uttered the words.
3) And oath taken not to perform a mitzvah has no validity, and does not constrain the performance of the mitzvah, whereas a vow taken in a similar vane WILL prevent the performance of the mitzvah!!
4) An oath affects abstracts such as actions, whereas a vow only has power over physical objects.

At the core of these distinctions lies the following critical difference, as expressed by the Rambam: One who takes an oath forbids HIMSELF regarding the object of the oath, whereas the one who vows forbids the object upon himself.

All life, all being, is about process and result. The journey is measured in quanta, but it is called a journey, a wholeness, nonetheless. We humans are the vortex of the meeting between action and object, between verb and noun, between realization and potential, between flux and stasis, between being and becoming. These dichotomies are expressed within each of us, but also in the relationship between male and female. In other species, the sense of female as home, as place, as context is more pronounced. Males in those species are genetic vectors, bearers of seed to be consumed or otherwise dispensed with upon completion of their mission. Now there is nothing mere in the male role, unless one considers abstractions as, well, mere abstractions. It can and has been said that the realm of abstractions, of what is not here and now, is the more real, the more substantial than the realm of the palpable. But while we need not engage in such apologetics of masculine on-upmanship, we also need not deny that in a profound sense, maleness is distressing abstraction that is uncomfortably dependent upon the realness, forgive me, the “earthiness” of woman” to be realized.

But what happens when that dynamic, that need to act, is disturbed by the encroachment of women? What happens when the woman vows a vow that will impact upon him instead of Mr. Impact calling shots? That is absolutely intolerable!! Off with her head!

Ooops. Except that this isn’t the world of animal-like impulses, this the the Torah. So we learn that when woman relates to object, man may not interfere UNLESS it’s a direct shot to the jaw – matters between him and her.

And when women DID usurp entirely the role of initiator, as when the Midyanite women, with nothing to gain and no vested interest, went out of their way to seduce the Israelite men into BOTH adulterous license and idolatry, in ORDER to annul the Israelite male as force, as actor, thus leaving the entire people wide open – there can be NO waving of the implications.

And what happens when our boys dream big dreams, and swear oaths that compel them into the masculine world of land and battles at the vanguard, always at the vanguard, scanning the horizon for what’s coming, coming…

So first Moshe insists, and they confirm: build homes for your women.

Men looking off into the distance and champ at the bid; women tugging them back, vowing that it won’t come at the expense of the home they can only build together. Between the two lies a land and a people to build – let’s go! Slow!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The One (People) Who Must Not Be Named

Just as Balak brings Bil’am to consider his enemy from various vantage point, likewise does Parashat Balak allow us to view ourselves from the vantage point of others. The main story in Balak is of a single piece, and Am Yisrael appear only as foils for the central story – the interaction of Bil’am with Hashem. What is curious is that not only does Am Yisrael not appear as a real character in the story, we don’t even get a mention. Every time Balak or Bil’am refer to Am Yisrael in the non-visionary passages, they employ indirection: “this people”, “my enemies”, but never Yisrael. It almost feels that they are avoiding speaking the name, one which Bil’am, at least, employs so beautifully in his prophetic speeches. Now, recalling that this story of the interaction of other nations with Am Yisrael is being told in the Torah, I think the message is this: Yisrael is our name in the context of our covenantal interactions with Hashem, just as Hashem’s real name is used only in the conte...

My G-d, a Navaho?

--> Shabbat Shirah, it’s time to sing. Standing on the edge of a Red Sea that has returned to its roiling nature, drowning the fleeing, terrified Egyptian charioteers, Am Yisrael is ecstatic and, with Moshe, breaks into song. They sang in unison a song that welled up from a prophetic vision of redemption that, our sages tell us, outstripped even the visions of Yechezk’el and Isaiah, both of whom “saw” Hashem enthroned on high. The song so permeated the very fabric of being that it is introduced with the imperfect mood of the verb – Az Yashir Moshe… “Then Moshe will sing”, as though the song is every ringing in the background of our Jewishness. So what did they sing? Pure poetry, and therefore, as difficult to feel confident in parsing as it must be even to attempt to imagine what they were feeling at that moment. And yet, we reprise it every day in our morning prayers, as part of Pesukei D’Zimra. Every verse of this song is fit for deep reflection; I’ve chosen...

The Mishkan as an Instance of Tzaddik

I was speaking last night with Yonatan Neril, a student at the yeshiva with a keen interest in exploring the nexus between Torah and environmental consciousness. We were discussing a seminar he will be giving, G-d willing, in the Bat Area in the next few months. He wanted to present Ya'akov Avinu as a model of environmental consciousness, focusing on two episodes of his life as depicted by the Midrash. The first is the famous image of Ya'acov at the Yabok, preparing for the encounter with Esav and, having crossed his family safely over the river, goes back for pachim ketanim , little flasks, seeming worthless given the danger hovering over Ya'acov, yet, as we are told, the righteous prize their few possessions, since they attest to the fact that they have studiously avoided theft. Variants of that Midrash tell us that the contents of those small vials was olive oil from the branch presented by the dove to Noach and preserved during all the intervening generations. The o...