Efrat, Israel – “When you go forth to battle against your enemies, and God your Lord delivers them into your hands, and you… see among the captives a woman of beauty, and you desire her, you may take her to be your wife. When you bring her home, she must shave her head, and let her fingernails grow, mourning for her father and mother. Only then may you be intimate with her and possess her, making her your wife.” (Deuteronomy 21:10–13)
In Ki Tetze we find ourselves in the midst of an adventure of war, victory, and love that has some of the elements of a major Hollywood epic. There are even those commentaries who interpret the entire passage figuratively, especially since we read this portion within thirty days before Rosh Hashana, that time of year when all of us go out and prepare to battle our universal internal enemy, the evil inclination within each and every one of us.
However, no passage can be removed from its literal meaning. It is therefore instructive to consider the Torah’s relatively permissive attitude toward our soldier’s passion, which clearly conflicts with his religio-national identity.
We can almost understand how an otherwise temperate individual engaged in hand-to-hand combat, with death but an eyelash away, could fall prey to his most primal instincts as a form of confirming the fact that he is still alive.
Indeed, if we’ve ever thought of Judaism as a straight-laced religion that doesn’t concern itself with sexual blandishments, here is something to jolt our imagination. And Rashi meaningfully comments: “The Torah speaks only in consideration of a person’s evil inclination. For if God would not have permitted her to him as a wife, he would nevertheless marry her although she would be [biblically] forbidden to him.”
But what is the Torah really saying in “consideration of the evil inclination?” Are our Scriptures allowing us to give in to our desire, albeit only in a moderate fashion, in order to prevent a major eruption of licentiousness, or is the Torah teaching us how to overcome our evil desires entirely?
The answer to this question lies in a difference of interpretation on this issue by two giants of biblical exegesis. Maimonides, on the one hand, rules that a soldier has the right to have sexual relations with “the beautiful gentile captive woman” one time before the month-long period of waiting and mourning begins – but only once. Then he takes her home, and must go through the steps the Torah commands, in order to dissuade him and her from marriage. Only if he still feels the same way about her when he sees her in his home environment, and only if she is willing to leave her previous lifestyle and convert to Judaism, are they permitted to be married (Mishneh Torah, Laws of Kings 8:1–6). And perhaps Maimonides feels that in order to give the “experiment” a chance to be successful, it is necessary to remove the “sweetness” of the “forbidden fruit” by permitting the one act of intimacy before the process of alienation or conversion can properly begin.
Nahmanides, in contrast and in accordance with the Jerusalem Talmud, rules that the woman is not permitted to the soldier even once before first taking her home, concluding the month-long preparatory steps, and taking her as his wife.
I believe that Maimonides is taking the more pragmatic approach: give in a little bit so that you not lose the entire battle. The Kotzker Rebbe was known for his unusual sharpness, and in his characteristic truthfulness, he once described the evil inclination’s power as follows: “Many claim that you have to break the yetzer hara, but often in breaking one chain, you are left with two chains.” In other words, fighting the yetzer hara with all your strength may backfire.
In general, Hasidut was critical of self-styled ascetics who tortured themselves in order to bring their bodies into line. One of the important followers of the founding father of Hasidut, Rabbi Yisrael Baal Shem Tov (Master of the Good Name, eighteenth century) was a leading rabbinical scholar, Rabbi Yaakov Yosef of Polnoye, who had previously been given to fasts and mortifications. Rabbi Yaakov Yosef was initially an aggressive opponent of the Baal Shem Tov and the following story is told how he became one of his most faithful disciples. One day the Baal Shem Tov whispered to him, “When horses get wild, a stupid rider tightens the reins, but that only gets the horse more upset and difficult to manage. A clever rider loosens the reins, and in that way brings the horses into his control.” Rabbi Yaakov Yosef understood, stopped his fasts, and became a Hasid.
More recently I can testify to my own tale of a whisper in my ear. I was just starting out as the rabbi of Lincoln Square Synagogue, and one of the strong supporters of the shul was a man who had survived the concentration camps by actually cooking up shoe leather in order to provide food for the inmates. When he emerged alive and well in Manhattan, Wolf Reichard wanted to express his gratitude to the Almighty by providing the congregation with a weekly Kiddush at his own expense. But instead of the typical “sponge cake and schnapps” Kiddush, he decided to liven up the image of Orthodoxy by providing fancy cream puffs, chocolate cakes, and single malt Scotch.
Then I started my first diet. When Mr. Reichard noticed I wasn’t eating, he became upset and showed me the signatures of rabbinical supervision on the delivery box of the cakes. When I explained my desire to lose weight, the wise congregant whispered in my ear: “Rabbi, I don’t have to tell you that the evil inclination is very powerful. If it doesn’t get you in one way, it’ll get you in another. And if I have to worry as to which yetzer hara my rabbi has, let it be chocolate cake!”
All the above stories deal with a common attitude towards the evil inclination – the futility of trying to destroy it completely. Hence, Maimonides permits a single act of intimacy, ruling in accordance with the sages in the Talmud (Kiddushin 21b) who maintain that it is preferable to relent with regard to a finger in order to save the whole hand.
Nahmanides, who may agree that the yetzer hara is very powerful, might argue that the result is the opposite: give the enemy a finger and he will ultimately take your hand. Therefore he understands the verses in the Torah as giving advice on how to conquer the evil instinct completely. Hold out the promise of sexual conquest, but only after following a complex procedure which he believes will generally lead to her willing and even joyous acceptance of Judaism; they would then be able to get married in accordance with “the laws of Moses and of Israel.”
This difference of opinion is further confirmed by a Talmudic adage which advises that if a person is smitten with the yetzer hara he should go to a place where no one knows him, dress in black, wrap himself up, and do what “his heart desires” (Moed Katan 17a).
Maimonides, taking these words at their obvious meaning, would say this advice is comparable to the law allowing the soldier one act of intimacy with a forbidden woman. If one’s evil inclination is so overpowering that he cannot control it, let him locate himself in a strange city, incognito, and do what he has to do: in this manner he can “get it out of his system” and soon return to his former life without the shame of the entire world being privy to his indiscretion. There is no need to ruin your life because of one incident of weakness.
R. Chananel (ad loc.) gives the passage another interpretation, more in keeping with Nahmanides. By the time the individual changes his clothes, takes the journey to a city where he’s unknown, and finds a new place to live, he’ll be so exhausted and ashamed at what he sees in the mirror that if he does “what his heart desires” it could very well be returning home. After all, the Talmud doesn’t say he should sin, but to do what his “heart desires.” Halakha, or Jewish law, takes the would-be sinner by the hand, and step-by-step teaches him to desire what Torah would say is right to desire.
When it comes to our own moral struggles, battles that are often life-and-death issues, perhaps the soldier in this week’s portion could be a metaphor for our own dilemmas. If so, then according to Maimonides, in a situation comparable to what the Torah describes, it may be necessary to loosen the reins a little. But it would certainly be preferable to begin with the view of Nahmanides, who argues that knowing that eventually we can acquire what we desire may be enough to enable us to overcome the evil instinct completely. Trying to do that first would certainly be preferable.
Whatever path is chosen, one thing is certain: even if we falter, that doesn’t make it mandatory to cut away the entire tradition. God never expected Adam to refrain from eating of the forbidden fruit completely; God merely hoped that Adam would admit of his transgression, repent, and seek forgiveness. The God of love is always ready to take us back as His beloved children. That is the real force behind the interpretation of Maimonides; even if you transgress once, there is still a path of redemption opened before you.
