Shabbat Shalom November 12-13, 2010

Parshat Va-Yetzei
Rabbi Paul Steinberg

"Give me children, or I shall die. This is what Rachel said to Jacob" (Gen. 30:1), seeing that she was barren and that her sister, Leah, continued to conceive.

As we read Rachel’s painful supplication, we immediately understand the despair that infertility brings. Many of us have been touched, either directly or indirectly by infertility and understand the sorrow it brings to couples, especially women. We hear her pain and can relate to it.

That being said, it seems unlikely that we might hear such a drastic statement from women in the 21st century; presumably, suicide or fertility would be a false choice for most women in our modern society. In this past century and a half, women have fought hard to be valued as mothers but also not to be defined by motherhood alone [the national average for women having their first child is app. 25 yrs]. In fact, the wisdom of feminism is that no one should assume that motherhood is all of womanhood, and that women have equal voices in many other arenas of society. Thus, this text poses a strange contemporary dilemma as we see our matriarch, Rachel, basing the value of her life and her very existence only upon her motherhood. On one hand we can relate to her pain, yet on the other, we may distance ourselves because she goes too far.

There are two primary ways with which to read such a difficult biblical verse from our modern perspective. One is apologetics. That is to say, we assume that even though it may be difficult and counter to our cultural sensibilities, there must be some deep and abiding truth that we can attribute to this verse. Apologetics would therefore acknowledge that Rachel may go too far for many women today, but ultimately, defend her position in defining her womanhood as motherhood.

The second way to read this text would be to dismiss it. That is, we might say that the text is clearly written from the perspective of a time and place that is no longer relevant. In other words, we may acknowledge that it may have been true that Rachel’s womanhood and existence was actually based on her ability to bear children, but that simply isn’t the case today. Therefore, we can dismiss the verse to the files of anthropologists.

I want to recommend a third possible approach to the text, which is suggested by Judy Klitsner, the author of "Subversive Sequels in the Bible: How Biblical Stories Mine and Undermine Each Other." In her book, Klitsner convincingly argues that it is possible to read the stories and ideas presented in the Bible as if they are in conversation with one another – reacting and even arguing with each other. So, we may read of Rachel’s conception of womanhood as motherhood in this verse and parsha, yet elsewhere we will find other voices either in agreement or in contention with the one we have here.

For now, I want to point out both a place in which the Bible agrees with Rachel’s concept of womanhood and a place where it disagrees. Regarding the former, we must turn back to chapter three in Genesis with the story of Eden (this is actually the third story of womanhood within the first three chapters alone). This is, of course the story of the fall of Adam and Eve. Each of them sin and each of them are punished. As for God’s punishment of Eve, the Torah states (Gen. 3:16):
"And to the woman He said,
‘I will make most severe your pangs in childbearing;
in pain you shall bear children.
Yet your urge shall be for your husband,
and he shall rule over you.’"

And four verses later, following the litany of curses to Adam and the serpent, the text continues (Gen 3:20):
"The man named his wife Eve (Chava, from the verb root meaning “life”), because she was the mother of all the living."

Here we see that following the sin of disobedience in the Garden of Eden, Eve – who is named for her life-giving capacity – is quite literally limited to her function as a mother. Of course, motherhood is a grand and magnificent gift with which women are bestowed. However, a grand blessing can become a burden and used to subvert rights when such a grand blessing is understood to be the totality of one’s identity and worth. This is what seems to be the case here in Genesis, as well as in our parsha with Rachel, wherein her existential identity as a mother has indeed become a burden. Moreover, because she was unsuccessful in actualizing her one and only gift, she rendered herself and her life utterly worthless.

There is also an opposing voice to Rachel’s conception of motherhood and womanhood. We find it explicitly in the fourth and fifth chapters of the Book of Judges. This is the story of the Deborah. Here we encounter Deborah who is married yet has no children and, paradoxically, she is referred to as “mother of Israel” – Em b’Yisrael (Judges 5:7). Not literally a mother, Deborah is a prophetess and a leader of the people both in the wisdom that she offers and inspiration she brings to the battlefield. Furthermore, within Deborah’s story, we meet Yael – also married and childless – who helps to defeat the enemy by acting as a military assassin. The story is rather clear on this issue: neither of our heroes, Deborah nor Yael, could possibly be limited in their value as human beings by their motherhood alone.

As a brother to five sisters, as a husband to a brilliant and beautiful wife, as a father to three wonderful daughters, and as a son to a mother, I can honestly say that I still know nothing about what it is to be a woman! I am comforted, however, to see that the Torah itself also has no one answer as to what it means to be a woman (or man, for that matter). Instead we see that there are different ways of understanding the value and purpose of our gender. That’s what’s so amazing and incredible about our Bible – it is honest enough and mature enough to draw upon a cacophony of voices and ideas, recognizing that the truth may lie within all of them together.