Hi everyone,
Hope you had a great week. I had an interesting adventure this week that involved a trip to Ikea, a 4 year old girl and confronting my own integrity. It happened within seconds of entering an Ikea store. Between you and me, it happens to me within seconds every time I go into an Ikea store…I get lost. To be clear, I enjoy the bright colours and the way things are set up so that I can leave the outside world outside for the time I spend in Ikea. The problem is that the time I spend in Ikea gets longer and longer because I’m trying to find my way through the labyrinth of aisles and displays. I follow the arrows on the floor and try and see the number codes hanging from the ceiling all at the same time. It results in my eyes quickly moving from floor to ceiling and back and forth until I wonder if it got dark outside yet.
A few days ago I had to take a family member with me, a little 4 year old girl. I picked her up from school and we merrily sang of our ‘girl adventure’ to the furniture store. I had pretzels waiting in the car for a fun snack and we held hands as we skipped into Ikea (ok, we didn’t really skip but you get the picture).
This Ikea was the same as any Ikea I’ve ever gone into in my city. The ground entryway immediately leads to a staircase to the floor where the furniture displays begin. We walked up the stairs and I stopped to get my bearings. I’m not sure what my facial expression was or if my hand stiffened as I held hers but something prompted this little cherubic 4 year old to tug on my hand and say: ‘are we lost?’
I immediately lied and said, ‘of course not’. That’s when I confronted my own integrity and realized she deserved the truth. I looked at her and said, ‘I’m always lost’ followed by a realization that I needed to provide context and added ‘in this store’. I told her I would watch the signs on the ceiling if she could keep us going in the direction of the arrows on the floor. Team work, I thought – maybe I should tell her ‘team work makes the dream work’, or maybe I should just zip it and focus on the signs above. Everything was working beautifully until I heard those dreaded words from her, ‘I need to pee’. I felt the blood drain to my feet.
All of this happened yesterday and since then I’ve been thinking about my moments of honesty and judgment in securing a little 4 year old without lying to her. Then I wondered about what circumstances might indeed prompt me to lie to anyone and then I thought about being a woman in Judaism today and that I could never be called as a witness in an Orthodox court because women cannot be witnesses. I can never sign as a witness on a Ketubah, as my signature would invalidate the document if it were ever needed in an Orthodox court. ‘But’, I said in my heart, ‘I tell the truth in Ikea! Why can’t I be a witness?’ And then I thought of this week’s parshah: Chayei Sarah.
In the parshah, Abraham makes his servant, Eliezer, take an oath. In order to take the oath, Abraham tells him to place his hand under his thigh. The oath is administered in that position. I remember learning this portion as a little girl in school and wondering what on earth could be so important about grabbing the back of your thigh. I thought it made you look ridiculous. How much more noble to ‘raise your right hand’ like they did on the Perry Mason shows. I had one of my first questions of Jewish difference at that moment: just because we’re Jews doesn’t mean we have to do EVERYTHING so differently! It wasn’t until decades later that I realized ‘under the thigh’ is where the testicles are – a nuance completely lost in my little girl Jewish world.
Taking an oath in the ancient world meant that a man would hold his manhood and symbolically put it on the line if he should break the oath. He is now risking everything to fulfill the vow and therefore I can believe he will move heaven and earth to get it done. He is believed because he placed his hand ‘under his thigh’. It certainly beats the childhood oath of ‘cross my heart and hope to die’ – a phrase every parent is horrified by. (By the way, as a child in a Jewish school we were all making ‘x’ signs on our hearts, it’s actually supposed to be a Christian cross on the heart – boy did we get that one wrong).
So, if a man takes an oath by risking his external maleness, how could a woman do anything comparable? How would you believe a woman taking an oath, in the ancient world, if she cannot put up collateral to hold her to her word the way a man can? It is a biologically skewed system of exclusion. But it’s not saying a woman can’t be believed, it’s saying we don’t have a comparable mechanism to administer. That should all have changed in the modern world.
Today, no one goes into a court of law and grabs their genitals. I dare say they might be found in contempt of court if they tried. Women in a secular court are administered an oath the same way a man is and are held to the same legal standards. But the Jewish courts never equalized things when the rabbinic courts introduced oath taking in God’s name. Clearly, no one goes into a Jewish court with the biblical ‘under the thigh’ gesture, everyone invokes God’s name to tell the truth. Lying under those circumstances is the definition of “taking God’s Name in vain’, a commandment equally binding on men and women.
It’s time for women’s equal oath taking status to move through the Jewish world. If a woman can bear witness without restriction in Judaism, then she can hold leadership roles without restriction as well, and that, I believe, is the political issue at stake that impedes this.
And just before we conclude how wonderfully modern and egalitarian our western secular world is, let’s not forget that a witness in our courts is called to ‘testify’ as they give their ‘testimony’, words that root back to a man being believed in his words because of what he holds in his hands under his thigh.
See? I told you trips to Ikea are never as simple as they seem.