COVER STORY: The true test of valour for Jewish parents

Judaism has two traditions – the tradition of the fathers and that of the mothers. What’s the difference?

The eshet chayil (woman of valour) described in the book of Proverbs is quite the woman. 

She doesn’t sleep. She has an eye for business and buys a good field and works it. She makes clothes and linens for her home and even makes enough to sell. She feeds everyone in the house, waking up early to make sure they are properly satiated. She brings, she gives, she finds, she takes, she plants, she makes cloth and clothing – I’m exhausted just reading about her! 

I read these verses and wonder: is it really possible to find an eshet chayil?

The verses of Eshet Chayil are traditionally sung to the woman of the house at the Shabbat table. However, in the very traditional home that I grew up in, this was one tradition we did not practise. My mother would have none of it.

Her opposition was not because she didn’t take responsibility for the gourmet meal that was put before us. On the contrary, like the biblical eshet chayil, her hands were never idle. In fact, my strongest memory of my mother is how hard she worked in the kitchen – chopping, cooking, baking, braiding the challah. She was constantly creating. 

My mother also made linens and curtains for all of our rooms (they kept changing as we grew up). She even made her own maternity clothes when she didn’t like the ones in the stores. She planted and worked in the garden, and like the biblical ideal woman, she, too, had only words of kindness for everyone she encountered or spoke about.

You would think that the song was made for her, but she would have none of it.

It could be that she was ahead of her time and understood that idealizing one’s partner is detrimental to a relationship.

Interestingly enough, the Bible doesn’t present an equivalent list of characteristics of a capable husband. When we do have a description of an ish chayil, a man of valour, it describes a leader of the community. For example, when Jethro instructs Moses to choose community leaders, they are to be anshei chayil, “able men that fear God, men of truth, hating unjust gain.”

From a biblical perspective, a woman of valour is one who toils with her hands, is busy taking care of the needs of others – especially in the home. A man of valour, on the other hand, is one who is honest and upright – that allows him to be a judge and a leader of others. It is his intellectual abilities that are extolled.

In A Tribute to the Rebbitzen of Talne, Rabbi Yoseph Dov Soloveitchik wrote, “People are mistaken in thinking that there is only one tradition – the community of the fathers. It is not true. We have two traditions – that of the fathers and that of the mothers…

“One learns much from the father: how to read a text – the Bible or the Talmud – how to comprehend, how to analyze, how to conceptualize, how to classify, how to infer, how to apply, etc… One also learns from a father what to do and what not to do, what is morally right and what is morally wrong… [the] father’s tradition is an intellectual-moral one.”

The Rav then explained the tradition of his mother: “I used to watch her arranging the house in honour of a holiday.  I used to see her recite prayers; I used to watch her recite the sidrah [weekly Torah portion] every Friday night and I still remember the nostalgic tune. I learned from her very much. Most of all I learned that Judaism expresses itself not only in formal compliance with the law, but also in a living experience. She taught me that there is a flavour, a scent and warmth to mitzvot. 

“I learned from her the most important thing in life – to feel the presence of the Almighty and the gentle pressure of His hand resting upon my frail shoulders. Without her teachings, which quite often were transmitted to me in silence, I would have grown up a soulless being, dry and insensitive.”

The Rav gave the example of Shabbat to understand the different roles of his parents: “The laws of Shabbat, for instance, were passed on to me by my father… The Shabbat as a living entity, as a queen, was revealed to me by my mother; The fathers knew much about the Shabbat; the mothers lived the Shabbat, experienced her presence, and perceived her beauty and splendour.”

This is a beautiful tribute to the role of the woman in the spiritual household. Yet I feel uncomfortable reading it, since the implication is that what the father taught – the intellectual Torah – was lacking in soul and sensitivity.

Perhaps my own mother instinctively understood that the Torah and the traditions that she wanted to pass on to her children were not just the traditions of the home. Her hands were not only for the challah she baked, but they also expressed her passion for teaching, writing, learning, and her hands were also there to hold the phone – she was always listening and sharing. 

That true test of valour, then, is to have a Judaism that includes both our intellectual selves and our emotional selves. We create this through action. We also create our Judaism through the meaningful texts that can enrich us – in our classrooms, at the dinner table or in any conversation. 

The traditions of our fathers – the Halachah and the rituals – must not be dry and insensitive. We need to breathe spirit and beauty into it. We need to be a part of it. And the traditions of our mothers, which are experiences of the home, must also be intellectual and moral.  

It has been 21 years since my mother, Francine Ruth, or Tzipora Rut, passed away. Those hands that wrote volumes, taught so many and provided both physically and spiritually for others, were put to rest. On her tombstone, my father chose the following verse from the book of Ruth to be inscribed: “Ki yodea kol shaar ami ki eshet chayil at” – the people at the gate know that you are a woman of valour.

Maharat Abby Brown Scheier is a Judaic Studies teacher in Montreal, where she lives with her husband and four daughters.