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On the verse ויאמרו אליו איה שרה אשתך ויאמר הנה באהל.
Genesis 18:9; where some angels disguised as random travellers have arrived at Avraham's tent during siesta time, and he's bounded out to meet them with abundant hospitality. And: ויאמרו אליו איה שרה אשתך ויאמר הנה באהל
Vayomeru elav, ayei Sarah ishtekha? vayomer, hineh baohel - They [the angels] said to him [Avraham], where is Sarah your wife? And he said, see: in the tent.
Now, the commentators point out that angels are from God, and therefore they know perfectly well that Sarah is in the tent. Why on earth do they ask Avraham where Sarah is?
Some commentators say that Sarah was in the tent because she was so modest, and the angels knew that if they said "Where's Sarah?" Avraham would say "In the tent" and would remember "because she's so modest. Wow, my wife is so virtuous and feminine and sexy. Hooray!"
So I read this, me, a product of my time, and thought "yuk," because I tend to think that an overemphasis on feminine modesty is rather too closely associated with not letting women do anything interesting. I don't like being told I ought to be more invisible.
And then I thought: isn't it funny that I can look at Avraham's immense hospitality and think "cor, impressive" and at Sarah's immense modesty and think "erk, icky." Because why should one value last so long and one be rejected so fast? Something's wrong there.
It happened that I was thinking about the relationship between the rabbi and the sofer. A pulpit rabbi takes Judaism and gets up into her pulpit and says Hey, people! This is the Torah! This is Judaism! Isn't that great?! A sofer, by contrast, sits in her scriptorium and writes a scroll, which says exactly the same thing, but not from the pulpit. So in a way, the sofer is like Sarah, working behind the scenes, and the rabbi in the pulpit is like Avraham, being the public face.
Now this suits me just fine, because I rather like working behind the scenes. If this is what's meant by modesty, that's no such bad thing. This year, our shul honoured, as Kallat Bereshit, someone who keeps the whole shul in order; no matter what it is, she's hovering on the sidelines making sure everything goes smoothly. If the angels were, essentially, saying to Avraham, Your Sarah is awesome like that Kallat Bereshit is awesome, that's pretty cool. Certainly the Kallat Bereshit's husband was pretty chuffed that she got honoured for her largely-unseen work.
Maybe that's what those commentators meant, and maybe not, but going "ick" at something a time-honoured commentator says certainly doesn't get you the most mileage from it, let's just say. If I can understand them in a way that doesn't make me go "ick," that's probably a good thing. And besides, it reminded me of the people who work unseen, and it reminded you too, and that's no such bad thing either.
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That's two divrei Torah from one verse, today. I can haz pulpit? :P
Genesis 18:9; where some angels disguised as random travellers have arrived at Avraham's tent during siesta time, and he's bounded out to meet them with abundant hospitality. And: ויאמרו אליו איה שרה אשתך ויאמר הנה באהל
Vayomeru elav, ayei Sarah ishtekha? vayomer, hineh baohel - They [the angels] said to him [Avraham], where is Sarah your wife? And he said, see: in the tent.
Now, the commentators point out that angels are from God, and therefore they know perfectly well that Sarah is in the tent. Why on earth do they ask Avraham where Sarah is?
Some commentators say that Sarah was in the tent because she was so modest, and the angels knew that if they said "Where's Sarah?" Avraham would say "In the tent" and would remember "because she's so modest. Wow, my wife is so virtuous and feminine and sexy. Hooray!"
So I read this, me, a product of my time, and thought "yuk," because I tend to think that an overemphasis on feminine modesty is rather too closely associated with not letting women do anything interesting. I don't like being told I ought to be more invisible.
And then I thought: isn't it funny that I can look at Avraham's immense hospitality and think "cor, impressive" and at Sarah's immense modesty and think "erk, icky." Because why should one value last so long and one be rejected so fast? Something's wrong there.
It happened that I was thinking about the relationship between the rabbi and the sofer. A pulpit rabbi takes Judaism and gets up into her pulpit and says Hey, people! This is the Torah! This is Judaism! Isn't that great?! A sofer, by contrast, sits in her scriptorium and writes a scroll, which says exactly the same thing, but not from the pulpit. So in a way, the sofer is like Sarah, working behind the scenes, and the rabbi in the pulpit is like Avraham, being the public face.
Now this suits me just fine, because I rather like working behind the scenes. If this is what's meant by modesty, that's no such bad thing. This year, our shul honoured, as Kallat Bereshit, someone who keeps the whole shul in order; no matter what it is, she's hovering on the sidelines making sure everything goes smoothly. If the angels were, essentially, saying to Avraham, Your Sarah is awesome like that Kallat Bereshit is awesome, that's pretty cool. Certainly the Kallat Bereshit's husband was pretty chuffed that she got honoured for her largely-unseen work.
Maybe that's what those commentators meant, and maybe not, but going "ick" at something a time-honoured commentator says certainly doesn't get you the most mileage from it, let's just say. If I can understand them in a way that doesn't make me go "ick," that's probably a good thing. And besides, it reminded me of the people who work unseen, and it reminded you too, and that's no such bad thing either.
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That's two divrei Torah from one verse, today. I can haz pulpit? :P