A Patriarchy Is, After All, a Patriarchy
By Rabbi Elizabeth Dunsker
Parashat Lech L’cha contains the first of three wife-sister episodes in the Book of Genesis. These moments are disturbing. As the original patriarch and matriarch of the Jewish people, we want to see a strong and loving relationship between Abraham and Sarah. We want them to love and respect each other. We want them to serve as role models for us. Unfortunately, these incidents show us an uncomfortable side of their relationship that few of us would like to emulate.
As they travel toward the Negev there is a famine, so Abram and Sarai (their original names) turn toward Egypt. Fearing for their safety there, Abram says to Sarai, “I know what a beautiful woman you are! So when the Egyptians see you, and say: ‘This is his wife,’ they may kill me; but you they shall keep alive. Please say that you are my sister, that on your account it may go well for me, and that my life may be spared because of you” (Genesis 12:11–13). Sarai agrees, and when they enter Egypt it is just as Abram predicted. Sarai’s beauty is noticed, and she is taken to the Pharaoh’s palace. Abram then acquires “sheep, cattle, and asses, male and female slaves, she-asses and camels” because of her (Genesis 12:15).
This story is disturbing on so many levels. Why would Abram be so willing to offer Sarai to the Egyptians? Why would Sarai agree to such an arrangement? How could Abram (whom we expect to have high moral standards) accept riches for the taking of Sarai? Also, we understand the ancient system of marriage to be about protecting women sexually: through marriage a woman is to be protected from the advances of others. However, in this case her husband predicts what will happen and protects himself by hiding the true nature of their relationship, leaving Sarai as vulnerable as a woman traveling alone.
The biblical scholar Tikva Frymer-Kensky notes:
These narratives relate the story as most biblical stories are related, matter-of-factly, without moral judgment. But the choice of words indicates clearly what is going on. “When he drew close . . . when Abram arrived in Egypt” [Genesis 12:11–14]. The story uses the masculine singular of the verbs even though Abram was traveling with Sarai and probably with an entire entourage. This is a story about Abram, focused on Abram and told as if through Abram’s eyes. Abram is going, Sarai and the household move “with him” until “the woman was taken into Pharaoh’s house” [Genesis 12:15]. The very rare passive “was taken” [vatukach] emphasizes that she no longer has independent volition. She is also stripped of her individuality, no longer recognized as a person, for both Abram and Pharaoh treat her as “a woman”—an unspecified generic object of desire. Sarai has been commodified, and nobody in these stories uses her name. No longer Sarai, she is “she” or “wife” or “this one” or “woman,” an object being transferred from Abram’s household to Pharaoh’s, there to be a slave-concubine. But God has other plans. (Reading the Women of the Bible, Tikvah Frymer-Kensky [New York: Schocken Books, 2002], pp. 94–95. Chapter and verse references and transliteration here is mine.)
Frymer-Kensky notes for us the way the language here can help us to better understand this story. It is not Sarai’s story, it is Abram’s. Sarai is the object not the subject, and as the object her experience is irrelevant. Her sacrifice for her husband goes unnoticed as a sacrifice. As Frymer-Kensky also notes, “A patriarchy is, after all, a patriarchy” (ibid. p. 98). Sarai is not a wife in the same way that we, with our modern minds and relationships, understand “wife”; Sarai is property and is treated reasonably as such.
But of course, we cannot leave things there comfortably. If we are to find meaning and substance in our stories, then we cannot merely end the conversation by saying: “That’s how it was then; who are we to judge”? We must judge, we must struggle, we must wrestle meaning especially from these disturbing instances, or else we risk allowing the uncomfortable scenes to disappear: these too are a part of our story and I believe they must be explored.
There is some redemption here. While Abram and Pharaoh negotiate the value of “the woman,” and see her only as one more possession, God does not. The story continues, “But the Lord afflicted Pharaoh and his household with mighty plagues on account of Sarai, the wife of Abram” (Genesis 12:17). For God, Sarai is the subject. For God, Sarai’s experience is important. For God, Sarai is far more than a mere possession to be bought and sold. For God, she is not “the woman,” she is Sarai; a unique and special human being and the subject of her story. God afflicts Pharaoh for her. Her suffering is meaningful to God, if not to her husband.
“A patriarchy is, after all, a patriarchy,” but that need not be the end of the story. When a person has been mistreated, underestimated, ignored, and so on, it may lead him or her to feel unworthy and forgotten. Sarai’s humanity and individual personhood was recognized and remembered by God. I believe this is true for all of us. God recognizes the value and worth of each of us. For God, we are each unique and important. For God, we each have a name. For God, we are each the subject rather than the object. If only we as humans could also recognize the unique value of every other human and keep far from the objectification of others that continues to plague our species, we might create relationships that future generations will look to emulate. What a world we would create then!
Dunsker, Elizabeth. "A Patriarchy Is, After All, a Patriarchy." Dvar Torah. Reformjudaism.org. (Viewed on October 8, 2013). http://www.reformjudaism.org/patriarchy-after-all-patriarchy
Was Abraham the First Feminist?
By Chanah Weisberg
Living in the 21st century, we have cause to celebrate the great advances that have been made in the past 100 years in granting women rights and freedoms—freedoms that are unprecedented in all of recorded history.
And yet, despite the real advances in women’s rights, when I view the image of womanhood as it is portrayed in today’s media, I can’t help but cringe. What message is being sent about femininity in a society where a woman’s physical attributes are emphasized as being of prime (or sole) importance?
To me, feminism means that, along with certain freedoms, a woman is treated as more than a physical being. It means that she is seen as a We have cause to celebrate the great advances that have been made in the past 100 years multidimensional individual who has spiritual, intellectual and emotional strengths (and needs) which are recognized, developed and expressed.
As the Lubavitcher Rebbe said, “All human beings, men and women, were created for the same purpose—to fuse body and soul in order to make themselves and their world a better and holier place. The difference lies only in the different tools each has been given to fulfill their common goal.”
According to this definition of feminism—as a wholesome perspective on the totality of a person—we could perhaps see Abraham as the first feminist, fighting to educate the world about the rights of women.
Let’s look at Abraham and Sarah’s story.
A famine in the land of Canaan causes Abraham and Sarah to go down to Egypt. Sarah is seen by Pharaoh’s officers and, because of her beauty, she is forcibly taken into Pharaoh palace. Only God’s miraculous intervention saves her. She and Abraham prepare to leave the country laden with wealth (bestowed by Pharaoh), having successfully accomplished their physical and spiritual mission in the land.
Let’s take a closer look at the wording of the text:
As Abraham and Sarah are ready to leave Egypt, the verse tells us, “Abram went up from Egypt.” It makes sense for the verse to describe this journey as an ascent upwards, because they would need to travel northward to reach their destination in the land of Canaan.
However, a metaphorical reading of the verse indicates that Abraham also rose to new heights after his experience in Egypt. His sojourn in Egypt enriched him materially, but also personally. He returned to Canaan as a bolder, stronger leader, even more ready to enlighten the world with his message. His experience in Egypt showed him how diametrically opposed his vision was to the rest of civilized society, and how much work he had ahead of him.
At this time, Egypt was becoming the most highly developed center of the ancient world. The Egyptians were master astronomers and mathematicians, and even today we are awed by their engineering feats in constructing the pyramids. However, basic principles of morality were foreign to this civilization, as we will see from the text.
When Abraham originally set out for Canaan, the verse refers to Sarah by her name: “Abram took Sarai, his wife . . . and they went forth to go to the land of Canaan.” Egypt was becoming the most highly developed center of the ancient world. Likewise, when God refers to Sarah, it is by her name: “Your wife, Sarai.” And when they are approaching Egypt, the verse reads, “And it came to pass when he came near to enter Egypt that he said to Sarai, his wife.”
But then, two verses later, the text reads, “When Abram came to Egypt, the Egyptians saw the woman”—an anonymous woman. Similarly, as Sarah is forcibly taken into the king’s palace, we are told, “The princes of Pharaoh also saw her, and praised her to Pharaoh, and the woman was taken into Pharaoh’s house.”
Likewise, when Abraham and Sarah prepare to leave Egypt, Sarah’s name is not mentioned: “Abram went up from Egypt, he and his wife.”
As soon as Abraham and Sarah enter Egypt, Sarah becomes a nameless “woman.” The only time Sarah’s name is mentioned in Egypt is when God intervenes to protect her every time Pharaoh approaches her. We are told that Pharaoh and his house are smitten with plagues al devar Sarai eishet Avram—“because of the matter of Sarai, the wife of Abram.”
To understand this, let’s look at Sarah’s names—actually, at Sarah’s two names. Her original name was Yiskah, which is from the root sochah, meaning “gazes.”
The name Yiskah alluded to Sarah’s gift of divine inspiration, which allowed her to gaze into the future. It also alluded to her beauty, which was so powerful that it drew gazes. Rashi explains: “Yiskah is Sarah, since she gazes with divine spirit, and everyone gazes at her beauty.” (Alternatively, Yiskah is from the rootnesichut, “princedom,” referring to her authority, and paralleling her other name, Sarah.)
Sarai, on the other hand, was (according to the Malbim) the name given to her by her husband, Abraham, and means “my princess and superior.” Abraham called her Sarai in deference to her superior spiritual characteristics, attributes that in many ways surpassed even his own.
But Sarah is seen this way only as long as they were in Canaan. From the moment they cross the border into the morally depraved Egypt, Sarah is no longer recognized for her leadership qualities, her talents or her keen prophetic capabilities. She is merely “the woman.”
In the Egyptian civilization at the time, women were seen from one perspective only: whether they were physically attractive. That’s why the verses say that the Egyptians were punished al devar Sarai, “because of the matter of Sarai”—because of the way they degraded her by seeing her not as Sarai, but as some kind of anonymous woman whose only significance was her physical form.
That was the difference between the community of Abraham and the Egyptian community. Abraham regarded his wife as Sarai, “my ruler,” seeing the true beauty of her nature. His only reference to her outer beauty came as they were about to enter Egypt, when it posed a threat to their lives.
Abraham did not treat Sarah like just an anonymous pretty face—the way that a purely physical perspective of women led the Egyptians to treat Sarah. On the contrary, with her prophetic abilities and in her intimate communication with God, she was Abraham’s guide and teacher. She was his ruler and superior. And it was only together, Abraham saw, that they could achieve their mission of reaching out and educating the world with their united spiritual ideals.
Even in modern times, when we have reached unprecedented advances in the treatment of women, the story of Abraham and Sarah challenges our value system. What do you see when you look at a woman? And, how do you view another human being? Do you see only their outward physical attributes, or do you look deeper to see the whole individual, including the beauty—and enormous depth—of their Godly soul? body? Do you see beyond externalities to a soul?
Weisberg, Chanah. "Was Abraham the First Feminist?" Life's Passages. Chabad.org. (Viewed on October 9, 2013). http://www.chabad.org/parshah/article_cdo/aid/2328590/jewish/Was-Abraham-the-First-Feminist.htm
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