Four Daughters

 The penultimate song of the Passover Seder counts four mothers, but many feel that what the Haggadah, the seder’s “bible,” really needs is four daughters.

We have, famously, four sons, based on the Midrash (Mechilta 125). But is that the proper translation? The term “ben” is used, but that is somewhat ambiguous. Take the phrase “and he has no ben,” which appears twice in the Torah. In Numbers 27:8, it clearly means a son: “When a man dies and he has no ben, you shall pass his inheritance to his daughter.” In Deuteronomy 25:5, “When brothers dwell together, and one of them dies and he has no ben,” it is taken as “child” or “offspring,” as the Talmud states (Bava Batra 109a): “For levirate marriage, a son and a daughter are equal.”

Thus, it is fair to translate the Four Sons as Four Children, and indeed Rav Ovadia Yosef rules (Hazon Ovadia 21) that the mitzva of recounting the Exodus applies equally to daughters. Perhaps we have the illustrators to blame for erasing women from the Haggadah.

Still, it is interesting to think about how we can actively bring more women’s voices into the Haggadah — and although they may not appear in the Five Books of Moses, the rest of Scripture does give us wise, wicked, mild and “unknowing” women.

The wise one, what does she say? “We are the peaceful and faithful in Israel. You are trying to destroy a city that is a mother in Israel. Why do you want to swallow up the Lord’s inheritance?” (II Samuel 20:19)

This anonymous woman is a daughter of the city of Avel Beit Maacha (Maacha is a name used by both men and women in the Bible). David’s general Joab comes to the town on the trail of a rebel, and the wise woman (ibid. 16) convinces him to spare her town and avoid needless bloodshed.

The wicked one, what does she say? “She looked, and there was the king, standing by his pillar at the entrance. The officers and the trumpeters were beside the king, and all the people of the land were rejoicing and blowing trumpets, and musicians with their instruments were leading the praises. Then Athaliah tore her robes and shouted, “Treason! Treason!” (II Chronicles 23:13)

This “wicked woman” (ibid. 24:7) is Athaliah, daughter of the House of Omri, King of Israel. You may have heard of Omri’s son Ahab and daughter-in-law Jezebel. Athaliah marries into the Davidic dynasty, but when her son is killed, she eradicates the House of David and seizes the throne for herself. Six years later, she discovers that her grandson Joash survived the purge. Things do not end well for her.

The mild one, what does she say? “I slept but my heart was awake.
    Listen! My beloved is knocking:
“Open to me, my sister, my darling,
    my dove, my mild one.
My head is drenched with dew,
    my hair with the dampness of the night.” (Song of Songs 5:2)

The Song of Songs is often taken as a metaphor for the love between God and Israel. It is read publicly during Passover, and some read it after the Seder as well.

The one who does not know to ask, what does she say? “But the woman had taken the two men and hidden them. She said, “Yes, the men came to me, but I did not know where they had come from. At dusk, when it was time to close the city gate, they left. I don’t know which way they went. Go after them quickly. You may catch up with them.” (Joshua 2:4-5)

This is Rahab the Harlot, who plays an integral role in the conquest of Jericho, saving her family from destruction while helping the Israelites win their first major battle in Canaan. Her professed ignorance saves the lives of the Joshua’s spies.

These themes of royalty and redemption, of passion and compassion, would be at home in any seder. Which women’s voices will be heard at yours?

God is an SJW

 The NCYI Gala on Sunday, an event to celebrate an organization of Orthodox synagogues across the United States, was an exercise in grotesquerie.

The most prominent speaker was House Minority Leader, Republican Kevin McCarthy, whose latest campaign called out three Jewish billionaires and warned “We cannot allow Soros, Steyer, and Bloomberg to BUY this election!” I could have sworn there was a hubbub recently about antisemitic tropes…

Of course, the sitting Republican president of the United States suffered no ill effects after telling Jewish Republicans: “You’re not going to support me because I don’t want your money. You want to control your politicians, that’s fine.”

Then, once he was in office, he told his guests at the White House Hanukkah Party about how much the Second Couple loves Israel: “And they go there and they love your country. They love your country. And they love this country. That’s a good combination, right?” Hm, dual loyalty much?

Then there was the Dinner Chairman, Rabbi Yechezkel Moskowitz, who declared that the worst antisemitic attack in American history was not the result of anti-immigrant hysteria fueled by white supremacy and encouraged by the president. No, it was the fault of Torah Trumps Hate, an organization of progressive Orthodox Jews. “The Pittsburgh shooting as horrifying as it was, was in my opinion a sad but direct result of their actions.” In fact, progressive Jews should be defined as moserim, collaborationist traitors marked for death, according to Moskowitz. (He later retracted that part of the accusation, as McCarthy deleted his tweet. Yay?)

Now, it shouldn’t shock me how quickly “All Antizionism is antisemitic” morphed into “Only Antizionism is antisemitic.” As an American-born Orthodox Jew, I have watched that pernicious idea bloom over the last four decades. But hey, that’s just politics, right?

Unfortunately, it no longer is. Far more disturbing than Moskowitz, McCarthy or Messiah ben Fred, is the report that the term tikkun olam was booed at this event.

In this forum, I have explained that the Torah views social justice as a national imperative, and God is definitely called a warrior (Exodus 15:3). Abraham is chosen “Because I know him, that he will command his children and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of the Lord, to do righteousness (tzedaka) and justice” (Genesis 18:19). But the term tikkun olam itself has been reduced to a laugh-line, some concept dreamed up by squishy “Reformim.” Or maybe it’s a line from our liturgy which is really about imposing a global theocracy. My response: Bro, do you even Mishna?

The phrase mippenei tikkun ha-olam, for the sake of the good order of the world, appears FIFTEEN times in the Mishna, the earliest part of the Talmud, compiled circa 200 CE. It is used to explain why the Sages instituted certain rules even thought there was no precedent in Torah law. Some examples:

• Banning a husband from invalidating a bill of divorce while in transit or changing his name to nullify it (Gittin 4:2)
• Instituting the prozbul, a mechanism to allow borrowing during a sabbatical year. (Gittin 4:3)
• Forcing a master to free a slave who is legally unable to marry. (Gittin 4:5)
• Prohibiting exorbitant ransom payments for Jewish captives (Gittin 4:6)

Tikkun olam, in all these cases, is the driving force: a concern for the disadvantaged, from the slave to the captive to the pauper to the woman trapped in an abusive marriage.

For those who claim to be “religious Jews” to be so dismissive, cruel and ignorant of their own tradition is a greater defamation of the Nation of Israel than any trope I could ever imagine.