A male Palestinian atheist friend made a
comment on my last blog post about the status of women in Judaism. He wrote:
“alas ...no matter how one spins it...women do occupy an utterly inferior
position in all religions.” In this blog post I want to explore one more
disturbing example that would appear to support his argument but then to bring
what I learned from reading a book by Tamar Frankiel that presents a strong
counter view.
First to the example: in this week’s Torah
reading we are confronted by the case of a woman accused of adultery (1).
Essentially, if a married woman is suspected by her husband of infidelity with
a particular man, he warns her to stay away from him. If she is found alone
with this man she would go through a humiliating, public procedure. This
involves her hair being uncovered in a society where hair being covered was the
norm; uncovering it would disgrace her (2). Her husband would bring a sacrifice
and she would drink “bitter” water, “that curse” in which text that includes
God’s name had been erased. She dies a horrible death if she is guilty, but is
exonerated and blessed if she is innocent. The woman is silent during this
ordeal. The only words that the woman speaks during the ritual are to say Amen,
twice. The text also tells us nothing about the rights of a woman who suspects
her husband of infidelity.
One modern scholar wrote about this
ritual:“‘The mouth no longer speaks, it drinks the letter’. Stood up before God
by the priest, with hair dishevelled and an offering placed in her hand, the
woman does not move by herself – she is treated like a living mannequin by the
men” (3).
It must be said that this ritual was
discontinued thousands of years ago: ‘when adulterers became many, the ordeal
of bitter water was cancelled’ (4). It is also taught that “Just as the waters
test the woman, they also test the man with whom she sinned.” (5) This means
that if they sinned together, both parties to the act will die miraculous
deaths.
It has been argued that “the ordeal wisely
places the decision in God’s hands, thus protecting women against capricious
human action. Thus, the Sotah represents a kind of enlightened legal
innovation: ‘The community and, especially, the overwrought husband may not
give way to their passions to lynch her’ (6). Indeed God allows his own Holy
name to be erased just to restore peace between husband and wife (7). However
one cannot get away from the overwhelming images of a woman humiliated. There
is a strong sense that this is about a man being able to express his jealousy
toward his wife and desire for her to be punished, even if it is delegated to
the anger and justice of God (8).
My Palestinian friend suggests that for the
believer who also values the dignity of women the path forward involves spin. I
disagree. Over the weekend I read “The Voice of Sarah” by Frankiel. She started
from a place of rage about the status of women in Judaism but she found that
her “rage dwindled as [she] began to get acquainted with orthodox women. …I saw
that they were indisputably powerful and influential in their families and
communities. …My feelings of condescending pity toward these victims of
patriarchy changed to admiration and wonderment (9).
Frankiel highlights examples of strong women.
One example that touched me was the shift in the attitudes of Leah. Her first
three children are named by Leah in ways that reflect her anxiety about her
relationship with her husband Jacob (10). But then, something shifts for her
when she gives birth to her fourth child (11). “She no longer named him out of
her fragile sense of her relationship to [her husband] Jacob but turned
outward: she called Judah for “this time I will acknowledge God” (12). “She no
longer sees herself through Jacobs’ eyes”.
While the Sotah example seems to suggest an
antipathy to women’s sexuality, Frankiel points to two bold women who took the
lead in matters of sex and marriage. One is the story of Tamar who dressed up
as a prostitute and slept with Judah. The other is Ruth who lay down next to
Boaz’s feet at night while he was asleep. Both of these women who went beyond
the boundaries of what was considered proper are celebrated as ancestors of the
Messiah (13).
Frankiel cites many other examples of a strong
female presence in Judaism in the stories and practices. She also embraces the
feminine dimension she finds in Judaism. For her, elements such as “immanence”
and “embodied spirituality” are important elements of feminine spirituality and
strongly present in Judaism.
Frankiel argues that “justice always must be
defined in a context”…. In her view “the context should be understood
differently. In its ritual dimension, the synagogue is a spiritual
manifestation, not a political one” (14).
I do not regard Frankiel’s understanding of
her experience as spin. While Frankiel sympathizes with the bitter pain of many
women who feel cheated by the tradition, her authentic experience is now quite
different. It does not address all the questions about the status of women or
the ritual we read about this week, but presents a powerful positive feminist
perspective on Judaism.
Notes
1) Numbers 5:12
2) Talmud Ketubot, cited in Rashi
3) Deleuze and Guattari 1983 in
Britt, Brian. (2007). ‘Male jealousy and the suspected Sotah: Toward a
counter-reading of Numbers 5:11-31’. The Bible and Critical Theory 3 (1). pp.
5.1–5.19. DOI: 10.2104/bc070005.
4) Talmud, Mishna, Sotah 9:10
5) Talmud, Sotah 27b
6) Milgrom 1999, Fishbane, and
Frymer-Kensky 1999 in Britt, Brian. (2007).
7) Talmud, Chulin 141a
8) Abarbanel
9) Frankiel, T. (1990),The Voice of
Sarah, Feminine Spirituality, and Traditional Judaism, Harper San Francisco,
the preface
10) Genesis 29:32-34
11) Frankiel, T. (1990) p. 16
12) Genesis 29:32-35
13) Frankiel T. (1990) Chapter 2
14) Frankiel T. (1990), p. 123
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