by Rabbi Avi Billet
A heteronym in the Torah appears in three contexts which have too many parallels to be ignored. The prophetess Miriam (M-R-Y-M) appears on the scene to sing a song about the splitting of the sea, and then we are immediately told that the people arrived in Marah to find that “Marim Hem” - the water (or, according to some, the people) were bitter. The Hebrew for bitter appears here as M-R-Y-M, spelled the same as “Miriam.”
If it was people who were bitter, one wonders if the water was really bitter, or if it was only perceived as bitter until Moshe put the stick/tree in it.
Elsewhere in the Torah, in the chapter on Sotah, the accused adulteress, the water-solution she is given to drink is called “Mei HaMarim (M-R-Y-M) Ha’Meor’r’im," sometimes called the “bitter waters.” (Bamidbar 5:18)
Finally, shortly after the death of Miriam (Bamidbar 20:1), when the people complain about lack of water, Moshe chastises them saying, “Shimu na HaMaurim (M-R-Y-M)” – listen you rebels!
Miriam dances in celebration over a miracle with water, there is bitterness over water (twice), and people are rebels over lack of water. All these episodes present the M-R-Y-M heteronym in different forms.
Why? Is Miriam meant to be a representative of bitterness? Is there a tinge of rebelliousness in her? What is Miriam’s connection to water? Why is the Sotah water called bitter – when perhaps the second adjective for the water – Meor’r’im (revealing) is more important? Why do the people seem – at least in Moshe’s eyes – to be rebels when asking for water in Bamidbar 20, when they are clearly not rebels when they arrive in Marah and find nothing to drink? Is there a connection between bitterness, rebelliousness, water and Miriam, perhaps a latent commonality they all share?
Miriam is referred to as “Achot Aharon” – the sister of Aharon – when she leads the women in dancing after the splitting of the sea. (15:20) Rashi et al suggests she was “Miriam the prophetess” when she was only Aharon’s sister, because she prophesied about the birth of her brother who would become the Deliverer. On the other hand, the Midrash Aggadah (15:20) says she was a prophetess until Moshe was born, at which point the power of prophesy was taken from her and bestowed upon Moshe. Was she jealous over his success?
Perhaps here is the source of our connection. What does losing prophesy do to one’s personality? It could certainly make Miriam bitter. And, for all the women who joined Miriam in her dance, not seeing her as the leader Moshe is may have also made them bitter! And legitimately so! Did Miriam’s bitterness towards Moshe ever come through?
The Midrash is very critical of Miriam’s speaking of Moshe’s marital relations when she spoke ill of him in Bamidbar 12.
The Sotah is accused of being rebellious. She may have bitterness because she feels squelched by her husband, she feels no sense of self, no sense of freedom, no sense of trust. Her husband is so jealous of her, and so doesn’t trust her, that he does not let go of the strings that allow her personality to shine, that give her the chance to become herself. Certainly she too is bitter.
And even if she is innocent we ought to consider how does the commitment of marriage – the public declaration that I am dedicated to one person, and not available to others – change how one relates to members of the other gender? One’s personality must always shine through!
Of course it must – but it must in different ways. Those who think that marriage suppresses them (though marriage isn’t the culprit – abusive spouses are) have not figured out how to balance marriage responsibilities with appropriate social engagement with others.
Bitterness only brings people down and prevents them from moving on with life. Did a collective bitterness prevent people from seeing sweet water in Marah? Did the death of the 40-year female leader, leaving no female heir to her position, cause bitterness and a rebellion over the loss of the symbol Miriam represented? (See Taanit 9a for Miriam’s connection to the well).
There have been a number of articles written over the last few years – in blogs and more famous media outlets – by women who are “freeing themselves” from the “shackles” of Orthodoxy. A famous singer embraced Reform Judaism, a woman chose to cover her hair when she married and then uncovered it to not lose her personality, a woman felt silenced by husband and faith and found her voice through singing on a reality tv show in Israel (and subsequently divorced to complete her personality), or the regular bloggers who find every fault and flaw in the system of Judaism most people who buy into accept completely. [an exhausting search through timesofisrael blogs]
Is it perfect? Nothing is. But instead of being bitter about rabbis and halakha and beit din and tefillin and mikveh and “get”s and singing, perhaps we can tap into the amazing creativity and innovation that has broadened the playing field. There are Orthodox women who serve as halakhic advisors, the mikveh in many communities is comprised of an incredible sisterhood, the pre-nuptial agreement (see doc here) and the post-nuptial agreement have saved many a heartache over the deliverance of gittin, and there are a good number of talented women who perform in public as actors, dancers, musicians and singers, without compromising their faith and commitment to our Halakhic system.
See the power of an incredible woman in the film “Brave Miss World” in which a former Miss Israel, who became Miss World, and who has subsequently embraced the Orthodox lifestyle, takes on a most important subject and has inspired perhaps millions of people through her personal experience and her advocacy.
Miriam is an incredible heroine in the Torah. Her concern for her people when she was only a child, for her brother when he was a baby, for the women she led at the Sea, and in whatever else she did makes her a model for all time. But she was also human.
Whether it’s the subtlety of being called “Aharon’s sister,” or her lashon hara episode about Moshe, there was something lying beneath the surface. Did she ever move past it? I think she did. I think her getting tzaraat taught her an important lesson. And the fact that both her brothers prayed for her indicates a filial relationship that never waned through thick and thin.
Miriam the prophetess proves that there can be a very prominent place for women in Judaism – and the women I have encountered who put their hearts into the system and become the most educated about it (flaws it has and all!) have found the life to be overwhelmingly a good one.
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