Do Looks Matter?

What measures of beauty do Jewish men value when choosing a prospective wife? Some might say that looks matter a great deal. Others might follow the conventional proverbial wisdom that  "beauty is in the eye of the beholder," or that  "true beauty is on the inside!" On Seinfeld, George Costanza's girlfriend Paula, once commented that: "looks aren't important to me." She goes on to tell George that: "You can wear sweatpants. You could drape yourself in velvet, for all I care!" Keeping in mind that beauty is a subjective measure, I would imagine that few men would dismiss physical beauty altogether. 

In the rabbinic world of the Mishnah and the Talmud, the rabbis tend to place particular emphasis on the  role of physical appearance. They exclusively limited beauty to the external body. It is taught in the Talmud that: "שלשה מרחיבין דעתו של אדם, אלו הן: דירה נאה, three things comfort a man, and they are: a beautiful abode, a beutiful bride, and beautiful vessels (B. Berachot 57b)." A beautiful wife, in this case, appears as an extension of a man's house.1 He appreciates her beauty in  the same way that he values the the aesthetic appeal of his property. Rabbi Chiya, a notoriously chauvinistic amora, argues that  women are nothing more than show pieces and baby makers.  

אין אשה אלא ליופי, אין אשה אלא לבנים . . .  אין אשה אלא לתכשיטי אשה . . . . הרוצה שיעדן את אשתו ילבישנה כלי פשתן

A wife is only for beauty, a wife is only to make children . . . and a wife is only for feminine adornments. He who wants to brighten his wife's countenance should clothe her in linen garments (B. Ketubot 59b).

In reading these statements centered on physical attractiveness, we might imagine that husbands chose their wives based almost solely on looks. Defective qualities in a woman included: moles, scars, and irregularities in a woman's breasts (B. Ketubot 75 a-b).2  A woman's character serves little purpose under this mindset. 

When the rabbis detailed their standards for beauty, marriages were arranged by the parents of each party. Men and women who had been fixed up scarcely knew their chosen partner, let alone had the opportunity to converse and get to know the other's inner qualities. This  system necessitated the judgement and consideration of a potential mate based on superficial qualities. For men, a mole mattered more than a kind heart because of the limited opportunity to interact with prospective brides.The culture of arranged marriages set the stage for a society that appreciated superficial and sometimes trivial attributes. 

Notwithstanding the seemingly antiquated rabbinic perception of beauty, one key story from the Mishnah might offer the modern Jew insight on this subject. In tractate Nedarim there is case of a man who vowed not to marry his niece because she was ugly. The story highlights that Rabbi Ishmael brought the girl into his house, and helped uncover her beauty so that the man would agree to marry her. After Ishmael asks the man whether he really vowed that he would not marry the girl, the man responds "no!" The story continues that: 

בְּאוֹתָה שָׁעָה בָּכָה רַבִּי יִשְׁמָעֵאל וְאָמַר, בְּנוֹת יִשְׂרָאֵל נָאוֹת הֵן אֶלָא שֶׁהָעֲנִיוּת מְנַוָולְתָן.

At the very same hour, Rabbi Ishmael cried out and said that "all the daughters of Israel are beautiful! It's only that poverty can make them look ugly [on the outside] (Nedarim 9:10). 

Rabbi Ishmael teaches us that all Jewish women possess attributes of beauty. These traits may or may not be outward because cultural destitution obscures them. Because Ishmael helped reveal the beauty of Jewish women in the world, we learn that: 

וּכְשֶׁמֵּת רַבִּי יִשְׁמָעֵאל הָיוּ בְּנוֹת יִשְׂרָאֵל נוֹשְׂאוֹת קִינָה וְאוֹמְרוֹת, בְּנוֹת יִשְׂרָאֵל אֶל רַבִּי יִשְׁמָעֵאל בְכֶינָה. 

When Rabbi Ishamel died, the daughters of Israel raised a lament and said: "The daughters of Israel weep for Rabbi Iishmael."

The honor due to Ishmael need not only come from the women of Israel. We might see Ishmael's lesson applied for all of humanity. God created all men and women in the image of God. Every individual is beautiful! While we often fail to see beyond the divides and exteriors that mask God's gifts to us, it is up to each person to help uncover the beauty that hides beneath the surface. In searching for love in the world, we might find beauty on someone's outside, but we should never forget to look deeper.

1. 

In rabbinic literature, a man's wife is, in fact, called "ביתו," his house. We learn in Yoma 1:1 that: "בֵּיתוֹ, זוֹ אִשְׁתּוֹ, when 'his house' is referenced, it refers to his wife."

2. 

Because men generally consider large breasts a mark of attraction, the Gemara asks the question: "ומי איכא כי האי גוונא, can such a thing really exist?" The rabbis answer "yes," and present the following hyperbole to demonstrate how such a condition might appear unattractive: "דאמר רבה בר בר חנה: אני ראיתי ערביא אחת, שהפשילה דדיה לאחוריה והניקה את בנה Rabbah bar bar Chanah reported that: I once saw an Arabian woman who slung her breasts behind her and nursed her son (Ketubot 75a)."

Finding Time for our Personal Pleasures

Partners in a marriage often share many activities in common. Mutual interests bring individuals together and forge the bonds of healthy and sustainable relationships. Couples who like outdoor activities grow closer by taking walks, cycling, going to the beach, etc.  Both my wife and I love good food, and we find cooking and fine diningt help strengthen our marriage. Yet couples need not do everything together, and in fact, it seems unhealthy to do so. Each partner has his or her own individual interests and pleasures which are often gender influenced. When one partner suppresses the other's personal passions, or even simple pleasures, the marriage will certainly suffer.

The Talmud discusses several cases in which a husband vows to deprive his wife of things and activities that she might enjoy and feel compelled to do. The Mishnah mandates an eventual divorce in each of these cases: 

המדיר את אשתו:

If one pronounces a vow that:

שלא תטעום אחד מכל הפירות

his wife should not taste any kind of fruit

שלא תתקשט באחד מכל המינין 

his wife should not adorn herself with any kind of perfume (or jewelry)

(B. Ketubot 70a)

שלא תלך לבית האבל או לבית המשתה

his wife should not go to the house of feasting (a wedding) or the house of mourning (to comfort mourners)

(B. Ketubot 71b)

In each of these cases, the husband must יוציא ויתן כתובה, divorce her and pay the sum of money he promised in the ketubah. In other words, such deprivation is considered so abusive that the rabbis instruct that the marriage needs to be dissolved. While the Talmud (written circa 500 CE) could not have imagined a case where the wife would have the power to deny similar pleasures to her husband, we should understand the text to imply a reciprocal mandate for modern times. Just as a husband needs to allow his wife certain pleasures, so too should a wife allow a husband time to engage in activities that nurture his sense of individuality. 

The love of two partners within a relationship hinges on their trust for one another, and support for each other's passions. The Gemara explains that a husband might prevent his wife from going to a wedding because it might be a place where we would find בני אדם פרוצין, promiscuous people. Such a vow against a wife exudes jealously and a lack of trust. We should perceive such a marriage as devoid of love, and therefore in need of divorce. When marriages and relationships are founded on mutual trust, we need not worry about what each individual does in their free time, and we need not be concerned about a wife who adorns herself in perfume (or by extension a man who puts on cologne.)

Aristotle famously commented that "the whole is greater than the sum of its parts." We might translate this to mean that a couple in unison is better than when the individuals who comprise it are single. Yet we should remember that the vitality of a relationship depends on the individuality of each partner. In nurturing our sense of self in a relationship, we strengthen the bonds we have with our partners. 

The In-Laws

Why was the Garden of Eden called Paradise? Because neither Adam nor Eve had in-laws!

Growing up watching sitcoms, I observed that the biggest nemesis to a sitcom spouse is his or her mother in-law. These yentas  always find ways to crawl under the skin of their sons and daughters in-law, criticizing cooking, making off-color comments, and suggesting that they are not quite good enough to be in the family. The main take away from this culture: stay as far away as possible from your in-laws' house! The Talmud advises otherwise!

In chapter five of Masechet Ketubot, the topics focus on vows that a husband might make concerning his wife; in Ketubot 71b, the Mishnah describes the scenario of המדיר את אשתו שלא תלך לבית אביה...  A husband who vows that[he and] his wife will not go visit his in-laws

The Mishnah condemns any such statement, and encourages a husband to permit his wife to visit her parents at least once a month if they live in the same city. And if they reside in different cities, at least on one of the three annual festivals (Shavuot, Sukkot, and Passover). 

The legal discussion seems to be driven by the age-old aversion of husbands to see their in-laws. Despite a husband's protest, the Jewish tradition here emphasizes the importance of a wife being allowed to visit her parents on a regular basis. The rabbis viewed  prolonged deprivation of familial love as a cruel act that warrants divorce. 

The issue of parental visitation might not serve as grounds for divorce nowadays, but it surely matters in regard to healthy relationships. As a recently married couple, Stephanie and I have already worked out a system for splitting up the holidays. We visit her family for Thanksgiving and Hannukah (and whenever we happen to be in the Boston area), and my family for Passover, and for regular dinners (we live about 25 minutes away). Despite our seemingly workable system, visits to our respective in-laws can be emotionally taxing. 

Stephanie and I both enjoy our own respective family dynamics, but it's sometimes hard to fully appreciate each others. In my own life, my parents have proven that in-laws become an important part of their partners' lives. I watch as my mother treats my paternal grandfather Poppi with the same love and care that she treated her own father. This is the kind of ideal relationship to which I think the Mishnah is hinting!  

Traveling Away For the Sake of Torah (Ketubot 61b-62a)

The discussion in the section of Talmud that I read this week (Ketubot 61b-62a) centers on a rather sexually explicit subject. In preparing to study this page of text with my father–– who is my

chevrutah

partner––I felt catapulted back into the days of yore whenhe attempted to impart upon me his words of wisdom concerning the birds and the bees. Thankfully our analysis and debate concerning the text was a little less awkward. 

In my last post, I discussed the responsibilities that a wife has to her husband. They included: nursing, making the bed, working wool, grinding (flour and corn), baking bread, washing clothing, and cooking. This week, the rabbis begin by describing the responsibilities that a husband has to his wife. The Mishnah starts by laying out his sexual obligations. It is important to note that it seems rather clear that we are talking specifically about sexual pleasure, and not about sexual reproduction.  There is, of course, some disagreement as to how often a man is obligated to be intimate with his wife. The House of Hillel (the dominant strand of rabbinic learning) says that in general, a man has the obligation to fulfill his sexual duty weekly. The House of Shamai (the weaker strand of rabbinic learning) argues that he need only satisfy her every other week. Depending on one’s profession, however, there are exceptions to the rule:

- טיילין (those who are unemployed)- every day, or more likely suggesting every time his wife desires him

- פועלים (workers)- twicea week

- חמרים (donkey drivers)- once a week

- גמלים (camel drivers)- once a month

- ספנים (sailors)- once every six months

Students of Torah, the Mishnah proclaims, can leave for up to a month without the permission of their wives. During that time, we can assume that a student of Torah would have no sexual obligations to his wife. The frequency of sexual relations listed in the Mishnah appears to suggest more than carnality. The type of jobs that enable a husband to extend his sexual absence from his wife are also the careers that implicitly cause him to be physically displaced. Intimacy is about being present  emotionally as much as, if not more than,  it involves intercourse. 

It just so happens that this summer I have traveled down to Philadelphia for seven weeks in order to work at Congregation Rodeph Shalom. I left my bride-to-be for the sake of professional development in the field of Torah! As a rabbinical student (I think I would fall under the category of student of Torah ), I am permitted to make such a trip of professional development with Stephanie's permission.  

The discussion in the Gemara concerning such a leave from a wife seems all too relevant in my case (even though I am not yet married). The choice to leave for seven weeks in the summer leading up to our wedding was not an easy one. Even Jewish law would suggest that such a trip violated my duties to my future spouse if I failed to obtain her permission. Of course, I would not dream of making such a deicison without Stephanie's blessing. Yet even the Gemara recommends that certain steps be taken when one has his wife's permission, so as to ensure that the relationship remains healthy. 

The rabbis pose the question: "ואורחא דמילתא כמה, how long is it proper to leave if he has her permission?" Rav, one of the most famous rabbinical authorities, states that with his wife's permission, he should spend one month home in between every month that he is away. Rav Yochanan goes one step further in suggesting that he should spend two months home in between every month that he is away. The Gemara notes that the latter opinion should be taken as the norm, whereas the opinion of Rav only in cases of necessity. According to this cycle, Torah should never take a student away from his wife for more time than he is at home.

After all, intamcy between a man and his wife is more than just sex, and cannot be accomplished through periodic visists home.

The rabbis elevate the importance of healthy relationship even over the study of Torah. 

Shortly after Stephanie and I started dating, I moved to Cincinnati while she remained in New York. We maintained a long-distance relationship for about a year before I moved back. This was no doubt a trying time in our relationship, especially because it was so young at that point. Had the 600 mile buffer between us extended past that academic year, I'm not so sure that our relationship would have lasted.  This time, we are taking the advice of the rabbis and trying to maintain the distance by periodically visting each other on the weekends. In my life, my resonsibilitiy to upholding our relationship takes precidence over my professional career as a future rabbi (Torah student).

Questions for Thought and Commenting Upon:

How have you preserved the intimacy in your relationship in times of physical seperation?

How frequently do you think a couple needs to see each other in order to maintain their relationship?

Does a man have more responsibility to his wife's sexual needs than she does to his? 

A Woman's Responsibilities in Marriage (Ketubot 59b-60a)

In less than four months, I will be a married man! The thought of this serious life change both excites me and scares me. In many ways, I think my relationship with my fiancée Stephanie will remain the same. After all, we already have lived together for about two years. Yet the spiritual bond that will link us as we "tie the knot" will transform both of us in ways that I can only imagine. Our marriage will bring not only a Facebook status change, but a spiritual, social, and legal changing of our identities. We will each have new responsibilities toward one another, and toward our family unit (which will hopefully grow).

Today I studied the rabbinic perception of a woman's responsibilities toward her husband. To put it mildly, times have changed, especially for progressive Jews like myself who view a woman's role in a marriage as more or less equal (but perhaps different) to that of her husband. Talmudic viewpoints (ranging in this discussion from about 100 CE to 500 CE) offer a more "traditional" model for the functions of a woman. I would deem the views of some of sages as chauvinistic to say the least. Rabbi Hiyya, for example, suggests that wives function merely as showpieces for their husbands. In disagreeing with the majority, he argues "אין אשה אלא ליופי, women are only for their beauty." To this end, the woman's role visa vis her husband is only to gladly recieve the jewlery that her husband adorns her with. Yet just as modern American Jews tend to frown on trophy wives, so too did the rabbinic sages reject Hiyya's relegation of woman as mere objects of beauty. The main part of the talmudic discussion focuses on the active role woman should play in a marriage.

The Suggya (passage) in Ketubot 59b opens with a discussion from the Mishnah (compiled in about 200 CE), an early Jewish legal compendium upon which later sages (200-500 CE) will comment. The Mishnah lists seven primary responsibilities a woman has toward her husband:

• טוחנת- grinding (flour or corn)
• אופה– baking bread
• מכבסת– laundering the clothing
• מבשלת– cooking
• מניקה nursing the children
• מצעת לו המטה – making the bed
• עושה בצמר– working with wool

Clearly, I will not be expecting Stephanie to grind her own flour. Even the later rabbinic sages appear surprised to think that would be a realistic responsibility. They exclaim: "טוחנת סלקא דעתך, Can it even enter your mind that a wife actually grinds grain?" By the same token, we would likely not expect wives today to work with wool and make clothing for their grooms. The issue of nursing raises a rabbinic debate that resembles the recent shocking Time Magazine cover asking "Are You Mom Enough?," and explicitly showing a five year old child sucking from his mother's breast. Like the provocative article, the rabbis discuss the age at which it becomes inappropriate to continue nursing. Rabbi Eleazar suggests that "an infant can continue nursing until 24 months." Anything after that, he declares שקץ (sheketz), an abominable thing. Rabbi Yehoshua, by contrast, argues that a child can be nursed up to four or five years!  The debate about breastfeeding evokes a heated debate among the rabbis. They continue to quibble over the finer points of permisssability and social acceptability of all sorts of nursing issues. Reflecting on back on all the conversations that Stephanie and I have had together, I don't think we have ever once discussed whether she will breast feed our children, and the appropriate amount of time to do so (God willing we have a few). Is this a normal conversation for couples to have before they enter into a marriage? Will the topic spark as much debate within our household as it does in the Gemara? The Shulchan Aruch, the definitive code of Jewish law (written by Joseph Karo in the 16th Century), decrees that we should follow Eliezer's suggestion of two years, and continue up to four or five as Yehoshua rules, only if the child is sick (Yoreh Deah 81:7). This sounds like a rather reasonable proposition.


The one task on the list of rabbinicly perscribed wifely responsibilities that I will delegate exclusivly to Stephanie is the making of the bed. Since we first started dating, I have been keenly aware that Stephanie requires  perfectly made up sleeping quarters. Every morning she ornatly makes hosptial corners on the sheets, lines the blanket and comforter up perfectly, and stacks the pillows in a very specific arangement. Since we moved in together, I have attempted to make the bed several times only to find that she would remake it. My efforts to learn her bed-making routine have been to no avail. I have given up in this regard, and will leave her to this rabbinically mandated responsibility.

While only women posses the biological capability to nurse children, in todays time the remaining list of duties can be shared or delegated to a third party. We can and should reinterpret this list of responsibilities as contemporary discussion points for the roles and obligations we carry into our relationships.