Trusting Ourselves to Find and Nurture Love

Recently my Waxman Youth House high school class invited two distinguished guests to speak with us.  Topic?  An honest look at marriage.  To prepare for our conversation, we took a look at Biblical stories about marriage to find positive and negative models.  We discussed what qualities we might look for in a romantic partner, and ultimately in a spouse.  And we spoke about what Judaism might teach us regarding what to look for and how to handle such a relationship overall.

I’ll tell about our guests and the conversation we had shortly.  (The photo below will hopefully tide you over until I do).

Drs. Ellen and Milton Rosen with Waxman High School Students

First, I want to reflect on the teachings of a rabbi who lived over half a century ago who had much to say on this topic, among others.  Rabbi Eliyahu Dessler was born in Europe, moved to England with his parents and was the leader of two famous yeshivot – one in northern England and, years later, another in B’nei Brak, Israel. 

He was part of the Mussar movement, following a tradition of rabbis who emphasized strict ethical behavior as a major element of the religious enterprise.  As a Rosh Yeshiva in England, he taught numerous students who were orphaned during the Holocaust and moved to England subsequently to rebuild shattered lives.

One of Dessler’s primary themes was the power of the יצר הרע yetzer hara, literally translated as the “evil inclination” – which has been understood to include pride and lustfulness.  He believed that a human being is constantly at war with his or her yetzer hara.

Among his prolific writings, he wrote a letter to two 17-year old students defending why a person cannot be trusted to choose a proper spouse and ought to leave that important task to someone else.  To leave it to someone else is to acknowledge the power of one’s yetzer hara and to embrace appropriate fear of God; to try to do it yourself, by contrast, is the height of folly and pride.

Rabbi Dessler wrote, “The simple truth is that when a man chooses a wife for himself he finds, once the first intoxication has worn off, that she is not at all as he thought and that he has made a great mistake.  Even those lustful people who go out whether their friends of the opposite sex day and night for years, and imagine that they have come to know them well, still know nothing of their character and nature; never once do they find after they are married that she is exactly the kind of person they thought she was.” 

And then he wrote the following to drive the point home to his young charges:  “Those who were truly wise…knew very well that no one can rely on his own judgment in these matters and they purposely arranged for other people to make the decision for them; for in a matter on which one cannot trust one’s own judgment one has to seek the advice of others, and if he doesn’t rely on them he will most certainly do the wrong thing.” (Strive for Truth, vol. 1, part 1, p. 213-14)

The essential issue here, as I see it, is the issue of trust.  In general, to what extent can human insight be trusted?  Specifically, for the present conversation, to what extent can we be trusted to make important decisions about the most essential aspects of our lives?

Rabbi Dessler’s comments need to be considered in context.  He was Mussar-trained and he wrote the essay quoted above in 1940.  Rabbi Dessler’s skepticism regarding human nature came in part from his ideological background and surely he was beginning to see, in 1940, mounting evidence of the deep depravity that human nature can lead to and the astonishing ways that human beings can rationalize even their most horrific behaviors.

I studied these passages with my students and asked them, Do you trust yourselves to find appropriate romantic partners?  What might help you to make the best decisions?

I don’t think we should dismiss Dessler’s concerns entirely, and neither did my students.  I think he’s on to something, even though I disagree with his conclusions. 

We don’t always know what’s best for us.  We can’t always fully trust our instincts.  My students and I agreed that we need to trust ourselves enough to make significant decisions about our lives, but we shouldn’t trust ourselves to make them in a vacuum, apart from family and community, apart from the larger stories that we are part of.

That’s what Danny Mishkin and I were thinking when we came up with the idea of inviting a couple to come speak with my class.  We chose a couple that have been married for 67 years and happen both to be retired college professors, so they are quite accustomed to speaking with young people.  On Tuesday, March 8, Dr. Ellen Rosen and Dr. Milton Rosen had a conversation with our class about romance and marriage, answering a wide range of questions about themselves and their relationship.

I want to give a sense of the conversation while maintaining discretion.  (Some of what was said at the youth house will stay at the youth house.)

But here are some highlights and takeaways.

We asked how they met and they told their story.

Someone wanted to know if it was an arranged marriage.  Ellen, who is seldom at a loss for words, said, “deranged, maybe.  But not arranged.” 

So we were off and running.

They spoke about the importance of liking someone, which isn’t exactly the same as loving someone.

They spoke about how they have very different personalities, different attitudes toward religion, different backgrounds.

They spoke about the importance of respect, and giving the other person space to do what they need to do, as when Milton Rosen fully supported his wife’s doctoral work, which required a huge commitment in energy and time.

They spoke about some of the biggest challenges they have had to face together, and how one challenge in particular, regarding one of their children, brought them closer together as a couple.

I think the experience was valuable for my students – there were a few good laughs, especially when they heard things I don’t think they were expecting – but mostly, they got to hear two people speak honestly about themselves and their partnership.

I believe our world suffers from binary-itis, an inflammation of the “either-or” mentality.  And one manifestation of it is the following:  Either we let our kids loose to figure stuff out for themselves or we hover over them, night and day, orchestrating their every move.

But in between neglectful liberation and neurotic orchestration there is a third option, which is education.

And God knows, if we’re going to spend time educating about Calculus and Latin, shouldn’t we devote at least as much time and energy to educating about life and love?  Not to shortchange their capacity to make decisions, but to deepen their capacity to make good decisions.

Writ large, we have the ability, and I would argue the mandate, as a congregation, to be speaking with each other across lines of generation, gender and background about the things that matter most.  And not just speaking, but also modeling. 

The emtpi-Nester cohort of our synagogue convened a 3-part discussion to talk about the joys and challenges of raising adult children.

Someone pointed out to me that it was refreshing to have a session where we spoke about our children in ways beyond, “my child got into that college and won this award and so forth.”

We have much to learn from each other – that’s the education piece – and we should trust ourselves to make decisions – not perfect decisions, but good enough, and better by virtue of our having spoken with one another and explored what insights Jewish tradition might bring to bear.

Will the 7 high school students choose short-time and life-long romantic partners differently based on having met with the Rosens, and perhaps other couples?  Maybe they’ll remember a comment, or maybe the image of two people, sitting side by side, listening to one another, will remain with them.

I don’t think we should arrange their partnerships even if we could, but nor do I think we should leave them entirely to their own devices.

The arc of the Torah’s narrative supports the middle way that I have articulated.  First God creates us.  Then God realizes God can’t trust us and destroys us altogether.  Then  God offers multiple frameworks that bring us structure and insight – stories, laws and institutions that educate and elevate the people.

Parashat Pekudei begins, according to one midrash, with Moses responding to the people’s lack of trust in him.  The people thought Moses was pocketing all of the gold and silver they were bringing to build the sanctuary, so he had to give an accounting.

By the end of the parasha, which also concludes the book of Exodus, there appears to be an atmosphere of trust between Moses and the people, and between the people and God, such that God’s glorious presence fills the entire sanctuary - וכבוד ה׳ מלא את המשכן u’chvod adonai malei et hamishkan.

With our effort, our conversation, our modeling, our education of all generations לדור ודור l’dor vador, I believe we can trust ourselves to make good decisions.  And I believe that the ultimate divine glory will fill our love and our lives.

Originally shared with the Temple Israel of Great Neck community on March 12, 2016, Parashat Pekudei