I'll never forget how I felt the day my gender studies
teacher made the claim that there are absolutely no differences between men and women. I looked around, shocked at the proposition, and wondering if anyone else
felt the same.
For most of the semester, we had it pounded into our heads that all distinctions between those of different races, geographical locations or habitats were really meaningless, and that it was merely society that tried to push that there were actual differences.
Why were women born with a womb and men were not?
Perhaps she was right, we all thought. Maybe we had really just bought into society’s definitions and desire to
separate. Perhaps it was racist to claim that generally speaking black men were taller than asian men. And sexist to feel that men were physically stronger than
women.
But then one day, when I could resist no longer, I had to ask
a question. If we were really the same, I mean, practically the exact same, then why were women born with a womb and the ability to carry and bear a child, and
men were not? And if the physical differences were so clearly undeniable and
apparent, then how could it be so far-fetched to assume that perhaps alongside
these physical differences were emotional or psychological or spiritual
differences as well?
I'm not sure that my question did much other than infuriate
my professor, who couldn’t believe that I was still so ignorant as to attribute
anything more to physical differences than physicality, but for me, that
question was a turning point in my life. If I had abilities and capabilities that
the male sex did not, then I found it imperative to discover the power of those
parts of me, why I was endowed with them, and what they meant. While my
professor’s idea of a powerful woman was one who could hardly be distinguished
from a man, I wanted to celebrate the differences inherent in the sexes rather
than diminish them. And not only did I want to unravel the mysteries of what it
meant to be a woman, but even more importantly, what it meant to be a Jewish
woman.
And so my journey began...
What does it mean to be a Jewish woman? What does it mean
to be a woman in Judaism? I began my search with the first woman in the Torah. That woman’s name is Chavah in Hebrew, translated as "Eve" in English. Chavah is referred to as "the mother of all life." We are told
that she was created, after the creation of the first man, Adam, on the sixth
day of creation, immediately preceding Shabbat. And woman was created, we are
taught, with the purpose of being an eizer knegdo, which can be
translated in one of two ways--either "a helpmate to him" or "a helpmate against him."
The commentaries explain that in a relationship, there are
times that one is most helpful by being supportive and alongside one’s spouse,
and there are times when the help that is needed requires going against the
desires and position of one’s spouse. The goal is knowing when each action is
appropriate.
It would appear, then, that a woman was created for the sole
purpose of helping a man. One may ask, “Is being a Jewish woman defined solely
in terms of her relationship with another?” And practically speaking, how would
this be accomplished? The obvious responses would be through being married and
having children.
What does it mean to be a Jewish woman? What does it mean to be a woman in Judaism?
Yet we find something fascinating. In Halachah (Torah law), a woman is obligated to do neither. She has no legal requirement whatsoever. But the man does. He is required both to marry and have children. It is pretty clear that he can’t do
this without a woman to be his wife and the mother of his children, but she is
in no way obligated to do so. The only way he can then fulfill his responsibilities, is if a woman would be willing to help him and fill these roles.
According to the Torah, and specifically through Chassidic
and Kabbalistic philosophy, human beings were created in two categories, as men
and women. Yet, when characteristics are defined, they most commonly refer to
masculine and feminine traits, as opposed to statements about men and women. Why
is this significant? Because both men and women have masculine and feminine
traits. Generally speaking, a man is predominantly masculine and a woman
predominantly feminine. Generally speaking. There are always exceptions, and
this is why not every woman will naturally desire what is considered a feminine
property, nor a man a masculine property.
The differences between the masculine and feminine are great.
They are vast. And these differences affect the way men and women think, feel,
speak, and act. The differences are psychological, emotional, physical,
spiritual and intellectual. And while we may be a combination of both those
masculine and feminine traits, at the end of the day we are either a man or a
woman. And our differences are not meant to cause distance between us, but to
bring us closer together, to balance one another and bond as they become points
of celebration, not separation.
The greatest difference between a man and woman, or more
appropriately, between the masculine and the feminine, can be seen in the first
two of the intellectual qualities of a human being. Chassidic philosophy teaches
that there are three intellectual properties alongside seven emotional properties. The
first of the properties is that of chochmah, translated loosely as “wisdom,” which is a male principle.
Chochmah is compared to a flash of insight.
Physically speaking, it is compared to the seed of a man. It is the beginning of
all life, the foundation. Without it, nothing will ever be able to come into
existence. And yet, like seed, it is invisible to the naked eye. It has no
shape, no form, no meaning. Not yet. It has potential, incredible potential, but it
cannot develop or grow or form by itself.
The next property, that of binah, is the feminine
property. Binah, loosely translated as “understanding,” is the desire to
attach to the wisdom, and give it meaning. Binah is the formation
process, the bonding, the development. In a physical example, binah is
the pregnancy. It literally houses the seed, and then, as the seed is within it,
causes it to grow, develop and form, until it is ready to be born and exist on
its own.
Both men and women have masculine and feminine traits
The word in Hebrew for home, bayit, is a yud
in between the letters that form the word bat, daughter. The concept is
that the yud, the smallest of all the Hebrew letters, represents the seed (we are even taught that it looks like a drop of seed in its shape) and yet it is housed within the bat, the daughter. This is why there is an
additional statement which says, Beito zu isto, a man’s home is his wife.
It is not that his house is his wife or that his wife represents the house, but
that his literal home is housed within his wife, on a spiritual and emotional
level. A woman need not be in the home. A woman is the home.
It is the binah quality that desires to receive the potential of the seed and cultivate it into something tangible
and meaningful. While it is not compelled to do so, it wants to do so. It is a
situation where each is dependent on the other to create a reality. The seed
cannot become anything in and of itself. Likewise, without the seed, the binah cannot create anything, for it has not been given the potentials with which to work.
Spiritually, a woman also has the
masculine property of chochmah, just like a man has the feminine property
of binah. In actuality, or on the most physical of realms,
a woman cannot produce seed and a man cannot house or give birth to a baby. But
while the physical is in many ways the lowest and most external of all levels,
it is nonetheless the world in which we live, and the most tangible to us. The
physical creation of a baby is the most profound and everlasting representation
of the love and the bond between a man and a woman. This child is the
culmination of the chochmah of the man and the binah of the woman.
It is the best of both worlds and is the representation of the future, the
actuality of the potential of its mother and its father.
Physically, the reproductive organs of a woman are internal, whereas that of a man is external. This ability to
internalize and to develop within, is once again understood as something much
more than merely physical. One of the clearest indications of this is the
difference between the halachic, legal, obligations of men and women.
For the most part, a man is required to observe all
time-bound mitzvot, and his commandments are also greatly external and physical
as well. For example, a man is required to wear tzitzit, the fringed
garments that represent the 613 commandments through the strings and their
knots. Furthermore, while it began as a custom, a man wears a kippah, a
head covering to remind him always that G-d is above. And another primary
example is that a man prays three times a day in a quorum of ten others. All of
these are very physical, very external commandments. In essence, all of these
mean that there are others who can testify or be witness to whether or not a man
is fulfilling his obligations.
A woman’s commandments, however, are private and internal. In
almost every case, they are done within the home and in some cases no one other
than she is aware as to whether or not she is doing them. One example with this
is keeping a kosher kitchen in the home. The woman is trusted by her husband,
family and those who eat in her home. Even if one were to look through her
products to check if they all have a kosher symbol, no one other than she is
aware as to how she cooks and if she is properly keeping the standards of
kashrut. Ultimately, her word must be trusted.
A woman’s commandments are private and internal
Perhaps the most powerful example of this is in regards to
the laws of family purity (see Acts of Transformation: Mikvah for more material
related to this) which involves the times that a couple is not allowed to be
physically intimate or physical in any way. This separation begins from the
moment a woman sees the flow of uterine blood, and verbally informs her
husband of this. This is a situation where not even her husband is aware of this
reality, and must completely depend on her word. These laws, which are
considered the foundation of the marriage, the children and the home, are
completely placed in her trust. Her word creates a new reality, and only she and
her Creator know if what she is saying is the truth.
Therefore, unlike the masculine which is the side of our self
that is external, which can be viewed by others and is not private, the
feminine is the polar opposite--completely internal, involving no one else and
entrusted to the individual alone.
Because the masculine properties are external and seen by
others, the man is in greater need of rectification. Unlike a woman, he is not
given that same time and opportunity for reflection, internalization and
contemplation. This is the feminine process of binah, the bein,
between, of what is in one’s mind and what emits through one’s action. This is
the stage of pregnancy, the in-between of conception and birth. And this is the
time for development and rectification.
For this reason, we are taught that just as the woman needs
the man for conception, so the man needs the woman for the pregnancy, the
development. This is not merely a physical reality, but a spiritual one as well.
This is why it is stated that a role model of a woman is one
who “oseh ratzon ba’alah”--a Hebrew phrase that has a few different layers of
translation. The first is: “she does the will of her husband.” But in
Hebrew, the verb oseh can be translated either as “to do” or “to make.” Thus, the phrase can also be understood that the woman is the one who "makes (i.e., determines) the will of her husband." But neither of these possibilities are terribly healthy in a
relationship. If one partner is required to do the will of the other, with no
choice involved, then that isn’t a relationship, it is a dictatorship. Likewise,
if one makes the will of the other, it similarly implies that there is no sense
of communication or balance between the two, since one is deciding for the
other. The main difference between these two is merely who is the one commanding
the other--is it the man to the woman or the woman to the man, both of which are problematic.
This brings us back full circle to the beginning of our discussion--the meaning of eizer kenegdo. Is a woman a helpmate for him or opposite him? When we translate “oseh” as “to do” or “to make” she is opposite him.
Chassidic teachings explain a very beautiful meaning to this
verse. The foremost commentator Rashi shows the term “oseh” when used in the Torah, has another meaning, and that is “to rectify.” Rectification is
actually the balance, the in-between, the binah of what it means “to do” and what it means “to make.” The true meaning of this verse then is that when a
woman is using her potential in the proper way, she is able to connect to her
spouse and help rectify him. Through her ability to develop, she can take his
ideas, his talents, his potential, and internalize it, becoming impregnated with
it, until it is ready to be birthed in a public, external way. And this is how
she is a proper eizer kenegdo a helpmate to him.
Is it true that a woman is defined in terms of her relationship with a man?
And this brings us back to one of the first points that was
raised: is woman defined in terms of her relationship with a
man? And so the answer is both yes and no. If each human being is a composite of
both masculine and feminine traits, then within each and every one of us we must
come to understand how these two extremely different qualities can co-exist and
compliment one another. If our masculine side has an obligation to “marry” and
“bear children” even though our feminine side does not, we recognize that the
two must work together.
This teaches us that the true way that we define ourselves
and come to understand and reveal our potential is through the focus on the
other. Sometimes this is an “other” within ourselves, sometimes it is the
“other” outside of ourselves. For every woman, single or married, with children
or without children, is able to bear fruit, is able to be an eizer kenegdo.
How is this accomplished? When we use our G-d given talents to create, to be
creative, through whatever means we can--through our art, our writing, our
poetry, our song, our dance, our words--this is fulfilling the commandment of “to
be fruitful and multiply,” this is creating and bringing more light into this
world.
When we are in a marriage, when we are able to physically
bond with another, this is our opportunity to fulfill this law, the first law
given in the Torah, in a physical way. But it is not only fulfilled when we give
birth to children, for unfortunately not every woman is physically able to. But
in the Zohar we are taught than whenever a husband and wife are lovingly
intimate, that souls are created. Sometimes those souls come into a physical
body, other times they remain spiritual, but they are created.
And every time we create, a process of giving and receiving
must take place. One part of us must be able to let go, to release, to give to
another, and one part must be able to make oneself open, to receive, to accept
and nurture what has been given.
When our concern is not about what we are obligated to do,
but in how we can help another fulfill his or her obligations, this is when we
shine forth and reveal our true power. But we must begin by looking within, by
understanding ourselves, our strengths and our weaknesses, and helping ourselves
both from within and from those around us.
And when we acknowledge that we are able to both give and
receive, and that both are very active roles, then we can rejoice in the
qualities and attributes that are uniquely ours as women, and start celebrating
who we are while bonding and building, rather than competing, with who we are not.