Tzaddikim and Jewish Mothers

[debka_notion]

I was talking to zodiacmg last night, and we had a conversation that started out with the thought that tzaddikim (truly righteous people) were like the stereotypical Jewish mother- sacrificing themselves for the sake of other people/G-d the way mothers (really, any mothers, I'd think) sacrifice for their children, especially in critical situations. This was prompted by a story Raphi told before services about a man whose wife was sick, and he went and prayed to G-d, and G-d sent him the money he needed for a doctor by having him find the money on the ground. But as he's going to the doctor's house, he hears crying from the house of a widow, and finds out that she'd lost exactly that amount of money somehow- so he gives her the money, and can't get a doctor for his wife. It turns out that his wife recovers without the doctor, but he had no way of doing anything to help her, because he "returned" the money- and everyone in town celebrates him because he's so clearly a righteous person.

What came out though was that huge numbers of these stories about tzaddikim include a wife and children- and the tzaddikim are always terribly poor. And so often they get some money and use it for something religious or give it to charity, leaving their family, for whom they are responsible, still starving. I don't see how that's so righteous at all. Sure, charity is important, and it's a beautiful thing to give something up so that somneone else can have it, or for the sake of G-d. But when you're responsible for other people who are depending on you- sacrifice as much of your Own stuff as you want, but you can't sacrifice what they need to survive and call that righteousness: I call that irresponsibility. I'd like to hear stories about people who do pious and charitable and incredible things without sacrificing the needs of other people more often. A person who does something above and beyond the requirements for G-d and lets the people for whom he/she is responsible suffer is not being righteous.

The other thing I noticed in the course of conversation was that, of course, all the tzaddikim are male. There are stories about righteous gentiles (although they're rarely, if ever, called tzadikkim: it seems to be a word that only applies inside the religion, which I'm not sure what I think of yet), but there are no stories taht I've heard in which a woman is termed a tzaddiket (if that's the proper feminine form- I suppose it might be tzaddikah. If someone knows, let me know, please. But well, the fact that I don't even know the proper word tells you exactly how much I haven't heard it used.) Righteous women don't get stories told about their acts of charity in the same way. And if they used the money that could have fed their families to buy a beautiful ritual object, as the plots of several of the stories I've heard about tzaddikim have involved, I'm pretty sure that they'd be properly criticized. So why is it an act of piety from a man?

Comments

[thevortex.livejournal.com]

Indeed it is somewhat rare to hear about a tzadeket. I would point out, first of all, that it is (rightly or wrongly so) rarely a shock to hear of the extreme kindness of a woman. That a woman would give charity or show a heroic display of compassion would be no surprise. With this in mind, it is not nearly as inspiring to hear of a woman's acts as it is to hear of a man's acts (for men are historically not known for showing emotion or compassion of that sort, barring the exceptional ones who are meant to serve as role models for all -- on the same vein, women have also been known to be shrews or to exhibit some rather cruel emotional pain, and have also thus been villains; history has some interesting one-sided stereotypes).

With that in mind, though, funny you should mention this. The person who spoke at shul this morning told one such story about his own ancestors. Apparently, his (great?) grandmother owned a bakery (that operated in her house) during the depression, and at one point, a hobo entered their backyard and began to collect the clothespins that were both on the ground and on the clothesline. He then proceeded to enter the bakery, and attempted to sell the clothespins to the two women managing the bakery. The (great?) grandmother bought (her own) clothespins for a nickel, which the hobo then traded for a loaf of bread and left. Her sister, also on duty, asked her why she paid a nickel for her own clothespins. The ancestor replied that she would have given him the nickel anyway, but by buying the clothespins she allowed him the diginity of feeling like he was working.

Indeed one of my favorite stories from the Talmud (at the moment, I cannot recall where) involves a discussion between R' Meir and his brilliant wife Bruriah. In a document that is considered by many to be rather sexist, the genius of Bruriah shines through on multiple occasions, most particularly in the following discussion: R' Meir has been bothered by several marauders, and decides to pray for their death, citing the psalm "Yitamu chataim min haaretz, u'rshaim od einam." ["Sinners shall cease from the Earth, and the wicked shall be no more."] Bruriah then tells her husband that he read it wrong, and that it says "Yitamu chotim min haaretz, u'rshaim od einam." [Sins shall cease from the Earth, and the wicked shall be no more."] Therefore, according to her, R' Meir should pray that they repent, and not that they should die, because without sins, there are no sinners! The Talmud favors Bruriah's righteous opinion...in the face of R' Meir being technically correct (reason being: generally, Biblical poetry has each half of a verse mean the same thing as the other, and as the second part unequivocally discusses the wicked, the first part must discuss people, and thus "chataim" ["sinners"] is the correct rendition).

Add to this the story of Rakhav in the book of Yehoshua.

For some more contemporary stories, read The Maggid Speaks by Rabbi Paysach Krohn (and it can be found in the BOO Beit Midrash). See particularly the stories on 106 and 190, among others.

The heroism of women has been part of the foundation of the Jewish people.

Huzzah!

The Vortex

[nuqotw.livejournal.com]

There certainly are stories about righteous women, but they seldom take place in the public sphere. Perhaps someone can provide the specifics for the following tale:

A woman who had seven sons, each of whom did a stint as kohen gadol. When asked why she was so blessed, she responded that it was because the beams of her house never saw her hair.

Here we have a woman who is praised for her modesty and privacy, indeed, for her avoidance of the public eye. Her act of righteousness is the avoidance of being noticed.

There are various examples in halakha where it is said that if a woman is scrupulous about mitzvah X, her sons will grow up to be Torah scholars, or tzaddikim, or something else publicly meritorious. The best a woman can do is to strive for invisibility.

I agree with the irresponsibility theory. It receives support from two (quite possibly more) sources:

(1) The famous question in the Talmud: You and your friend are in the desert. You have enough water to get out, but your friend has no water. What to do? The Talmud prefers that you keep the water for yourself, since self preservation is one's first obligation.

(2) In D'varim, 33:18: "And of Zevulun he said: Rejoice O Zevulun on your journeys, and Issachar, in your tents." Rashi explains that there was symbiotic relationship between these tribes -- Zevulunites were merchants, and thus enabled Issacharites to stay home and study Torah. Rambam writes that "Whoever deliberately sets out to devote himself to Torah and not work for a living but be dependent on charity has thereby desecrated the divine name....." (Mishneh Torah) (This is all secondarily from Etz Hayim.) It is entirely clear that one's first priority is self-sustenance.

[debka-notion.livejournal.com]

I've heard that story as well, and it rather baffles me, since on a literal level, of course the beams of her house never saw her hair- they don't have eyes, and on a more serious level because there's no prohibition for a married woman's family to see her hair. So there she is being rewarded second-hand for being overly strict in her observance of a particular mitzvah. I suppose you could argue that it is similar to the hiddur mitzvah that some of the tzaddikim stories get into (the ones I Really object to) where the tzaddik buys a beautiful etrog or the like instead of food for his family (admittedly that example comes from an Agnon story that Rabbi Lehmann read to us in the sukkah this year, but there are other examples, this one just comes to mind). But the one about this righteous woman- no one suffers because she is so careful about her hair covering, except maybe her husband, and then it's an aesthetic suffering, not a physical one.

That said, I get ticked at that interpretation (all too common) of "kavod bat-hamelech pnima" "the homor of the king's daughter is inside", which gets read to be "inside the house", when, if I'm reading this correctly, it could be read as "inside herself", and thus be a dignity-affirming statement rather than a locational and restricting one.

I always liked that set of commentary from Etz Chayim. It's very useful in reminding people that the Rambam disapproved of Kollel.

[nuqotw.livejournal.com]

The 'inside oneself' vs. 'inside the house' interpretation is the deciding factor in whether the mechitzah is beautiful or degrading. When it is used to keep us all inside ourselves, it is a great idea. When it is used to remove half the people in shul from the service, it is an abomination. Whilst the proponents of the mechitzah tout the former notion, all too often it is the latter which practically prevails. Incidentally, doesn't the Hebrew make it obvious -- inside the house == kavod bat-hamelech babayit, which isn't even close to pnima.

[debka-notion.livejournal.com]

The thing is that the first time I encountered the phrase, it was in a description of the Rambam's use of that phrase to justify the idea that women should remain mostly inside the house- he saw himself as being very enlightened and freeing when he said that women should be allowed out of the house twice a month, to visit their mothers/sisters and to go to simchas. ON the other hand, he was coming from a strict Muslim outer culture, which clearly influenced things. But he was able to use that phrase to mean inside the home rather than internal to the self, so clearly it's an option used by other people...

[debka-notion.livejournal.com]

I was talking more about the stereotypical anonymous folktales/stories about tzaddikim. I know there are particular women pointed out as being righteous, just as there are particular men. But the folktale-stories are predominantly about men. This was also a much secondary point in my mind to the point that tzaddikim in such stories don't always seem so righteous...