The two Tamars

It’s worth paying attention to a little story about a Jewish woman named Tamar. It was published, incidentally, on the week in which Jews read the biblical tale of Tamar in the weekly Torah portion. Of course, there’s no real similarity between the Tamar of yore and the Tamar of today. But still: they are both Jewish women living in a world whose halakhic rules are determined by men, and both of them decided to break these rules in order to create a new reality. The story of the first Tamar can be found in the Torah. You can read the story about the second Tamar in the Washington Jewish Week, where it was first published.

In 2006, Tamar Epstein was married to one Aharon Friedman. They are both orthodox Jews, who follow the rules of the Torah. In 2007, they had a daughter. In 2010, they got a civil divorce in an American court. But a Jewish divorce was not granted. Epstein became ‘chained’ – divorced according to American law, married according to Jewish law. The community put pressure on Friedman, rabbis tried to convince him to grant her a divorce, but he refused. His story received headlines because he was not just anyone – he served as a staff member of an important congressman, Republican David Kemp. The congressman was under attack, but that didn’t help as well. Legally, there was no reason to interfere, and of course Friedman couldn’t be fired for a matter concerning Jewish law.

This week it turned out that Epstein was remarried. She no longer resides in Maryland. Her new husband – congratulations to them both – is named Adam Fleischer, and the wedding was held in Memphis, Tennessee. Who let Epstein get married, even though she did not receive a Jewish divorce? Apparently there is a Rabbi who decided to grant her permission. The reasons for the permission are vague, controversial. Many of American's orthodox rabbis see Epstein as a married woman, one whose future children would be deemed “bastards.” Few are willing to accept the idea that a divorce was given and that the new marriage is valid. In any way, it is clear that the bride made a decision: waiting forever for a divorce, staying alone, was (justifiably) not for her. Waiting for a halakhic solution that was ok with everyone was not for her as well, because there is no such thing – those who are lenient are lenient, those who are strict are strict, and each chooses his own rabbi.        

This is just a little story, but it is a very telling one. It teaches us about the great divide within the orthodox Jewish community and about the erosion in the authority of the rabbinical establishment, its inability to enforce its rulings on the public – even its own followers. What’s true in America is also true in Israel. A lot of rabbis are trying to show their muscles, pretending to be powerful even though they only have the power that the public grants them – and the public is no longer interested in granting them power. This is the case with ‘chained’ women, but this is also the case when it comes to several other issues concerning women in Judaism, from the question of female military service, to the question of whether they are allowed to do Torah readings at the synagogue, and to the debate on female ordination.

There is good news: whoever is scared of rabbis and the rabbinates can calm down. The rabbis and the rabbinate are getting weaker, not stronger. There is also some slightly less positive news: a Jewish world without clear rulings – without an agreed upon halakha, without accepted institutions that can sort out religious matters, without clear standards – is a more divided, more partisan, less coherent Jewish world.      

There probably isn’t any way to change this situation – and it isn’t clear whether it should be changed. This is the spirit of the times, and it is stronger than any religious court and of any group of rabbis from this or that denomination. If a Jewish woman wants to get married, she will find a way to get married. In this sense we have a clear similarity with the case of the biblical Tamar – both are examples of female insistence in the face of a male-governed establishment. Now we just need a Judah to come and admit: “She was more righteous than I.”