I once had an extremely unsettling conversation that left its marks on me until this very day.
[I wish to note the following disclaimer: as disdainful as some of these sentiments may sound, they did not come from a malicious place, but from a place of having been programmed as such by their respective society. Please understand that their openness and honesty were so genuine that the feeling left behind was cordial, even if it did not end in agreement.]
My wife and I once hosted acquaintances we had met while visiting a die-hard Chassidic enclave, one that was extreme even when compared to my wife’s own Chassidic circles. Mr. and Mrs. Guest work in quite a successful business that they themselves own. They were both pleasantly intelligent and educated, and both relatively close in age to my wife and I. As is usually the case, our conversation quickly turned from small talk into an intense conversation on Jewish philosophy. At a certain point, my wife turned to Mrs. Guest and asked her, “what do you think?”. She quickly responded, “I am not educated enough in this matter, in order to have my own opinion”. We didn’t think twice about her response, and the conversation just flowed on to the next topic.
It was only after the third such remark from Mrs. Guest, that my wife finally asked her, “what do you mean when you say you aren’t educated enough? Have you never studied the Chumash?”. Shaking her head, Mrs. Guest replied, “I don’t even know how to read the Chumash, so of course I have never studied it!”. She proceeded to explain that in her community, women receive a normal secular education, along with a rigorous “home education” which includes learning how to cook, sew and knit, but that they are absolutely forbidden from studying Torah texts of any kind! She couldn’t even read Hebrew, let alone study it!
Immediately, Mr. Guest – her husband, piped up and said, “of course she doesn’t learn Torah. That is a man’s job! A woman’s job is to listen to her husband, clean the house, cook her family food, and maybe help with the livelihood. Why does she need to know how to learn?”
At this point, I could not contain myself any longer, and burst out: “you really believe this? You really believe that even in this day and age, Jewish women can know about everything – secular studies, finances, celebrities, brand names – but their very own Torah, the one Hashem taught them first, they should not know?!”
In perhaps one of the simplest, most honest responses I have ever received, he replied, “yes, of course. A woman who thinks she knows so much will soon enough try to become independent and will no longer be able to be controlled.”
I had never heard someone – at least not in this generation – be as honest about how he really feels. Putting aside my utter disdain for just a moment, I asked, “where should she know about her Judaism from?”. “From her husband”, he replied.
“And if, her husband is not a Torah scholar and does not know?”, I retorted.
“Most husbands are not Torah scholars! But it is better that she listen to her husband violate a Jewish law, than that she should be able to reach such decisions on her own. It is unbecoming of a Jewish woman to be educated in Torah matters; such women are very dangerous.”
“My wife seems “dangerous to you”?
I don’t wish to continue relating our conversation. I simply wish for you, my dear reader, to be aware that such illnesses and ignorance still exist in the world. Even I, the one in the story, have still not fully comprehended the gravity of the situation following this conversation.
Sarah Immenu’s Passing
In Parashat Chayeh Sarah, we read of the passing of Sarah Immenu.
“And the life of Sarah was one hundred years and twenty years and seven years; [these were] the years of the life of Sarah. And Sarah died in Kiriat Arba, which is Chevron, in the land of Canaan, and Avraham came to eulogize Sarah and to bewail her.” (Bereshit 23:1-2)
Of course Avraham Avinu came to eulogize Sarah and bewail her? What is the Torah trying to teach us?
Eulogies in the Shulchan Aruch
As I sat and pondered this question on Friday night, I was immediately reminded of the words of Maran, Rabbi Yosef Karo, in his Shulchan Aruch (Yoreh De’ah 344):
1. “It is a great Mitzvah to eulogize a deceased individual, in a manner which is befitting them.
And it is a Mitzvah to raise ones voice and to speak heartbreaking words in order to increase the tears and to remember his praises.
…they recount his good deeds… and if he does not have good deeds…they should not recount anything.”
2. “Just as they eulogize the men, so to they eulogize the women, in a manner which is befitting them”.
7. “The bride – they eulogize her [by recounting] the deeds of her father, or the deeds of her husband.”
The assumption in Maran’s generation was that a bride, a young woman, was illiterate in Torah and therefore did not have any of her own good deeds to recount. She was unlearned, uneducated, unable to act intelligently in matters of good deeds, and therefore the mourners did not have anything to recount if she passed.
Of course, this perhaps wasn’t a situation which Maran appreciated – but it was just the fact on the ground in his generation.
From Rabbi Yonatan Halevy, here.