Parshat Bereshit
by Rabbi Avi Billet
No matter how one views the term “original sin,” it is quite clear that the first sin the Torah depicts is the violation of the only command given to Man. “Eat of every tree. But of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil you shall not eat, for on the day that you eat from you shall become mortal.” (2:16-17)
Early in chapter 3, through the enticement of the Nachash (the Garden of Eden serpent, who can walk and talk), the woman eats from the tree, and then gives of its fruit to her husband, in clear violation of that one command.
When God rhetorically asks about the deed, “Have you eaten from the tree regarding which I had commanded you not to eat from?” the answer should have been Yes, because after all, God already knows the answer. But instead, the man says “The woman that You gave me… she gave me the fruit and I ate it.” And when God turns to the woman, her response is, “The snake enticed me and I ate.” God doesn’t ask the snake for his excuse, but He goes and issues His judgment to the snake first, then to the woman, then to the man.
In other words, those who can point their finger to a person (or a snake) go ahead and do so, instead of looking in the mirror and taking ownership of their own actions. It's a Blame Game 101.
Is the man blaming the woman? Or HaChaim suggests his answer was not blaming her at all! He is, in fact, blaming God! YOU gave me this woman. You were the shadchan. Your stamp of approval led me to believe that she is a fine woman, who would not steer me wrong. Was I supposed to check that the food she gave me was kosher? Why on earth would I ever suspect that she – who You designed and assigned to me – would lead me astray? Or HaChaim further offers a defense of the woman – she had no idea that there is a Yetzer Hara that wishes to lead her astray… how would she even know to fight the temptation offered by the snake who essentially told her, “You were told not to eat from it… so what?”
The “Otzar HaTorah” suggests that whatever genuine excuses the man may have had likely disappeared from him the minute he heard God asking him about what had happened. In that moment of weakness all he could blame was the woman that God had given him. Maybe if he had a little more time to think, he could have given some philosophical answer, some thought out reason. But essentially, what he was admitting, in that raw moment, was that his inclination and his desire overcame him.
At the same time, the Kotzker Rebbe defends him from this “childish” kind of blame game, in that if we study his precise answer, he says that the woman God gave him, הִ֛וא נָֽתְנָה־לִּ֥י מִן־הָעֵ֖ץ וָאֹכֵֽל, “she gave to me from the tree, and I ate it.” She didn’t feed me. I fed myself! This is taking ownership. This is taking responsibility. This is admitting that I am responsible for my actions. Even if the woman you gave me put the fruit in my hand and told me to eat it.
Reading this one must come to the conclusion that a person, ultimately, is responsible for one’s deeds. The snake might be the yetzer hara in disguise, but the yetzer hara, while very good at what it does, is still just the one “prompting” and enticing and encouraging. In the end, the person chooses – will I listen to it, or will I overcome the temptation and choose a better path?
All that being said, we are faced with another notion that is important to bear in mind as well, and that is the responsibility of the people in a relationship to one another. It certainly is true for spouses, but is also true for two people involved in any action together. There is a reason why an accomplice in a crime, even if s/he did not pull the trigger, bears much responsibility for allowing the crime to take place, for not stopping it, or for choosing to be present, rather than choosing not to get involved with the other person’s crimes.
The woman was created with a particular task of being the עזר כנגדו. Ezer means a helper, and k’negdo means opposite him. Some interpret “opposite him” to mean that she needs to oppose and to challenge him with views that he does not intuitively have. Ultimately, however, their relationship is meant to be one of mutual benefit, where as a team they make each other better, and grow in their own ways, both as individuals, but also as a partnership greater than the sum of its parts.
Koheles speaks of the amazing woman – ראה חיים עם אשה אשר אהבת (echoing the incredible woman that Shlomo Hamelekh describes in Mishlei 31 – the Eishes Chayil), but he also speaks of the woman who is worse than death (7:26) ומוצא אני מר ממות את האשה אשר היא מצודה וחרמים לבה אסורים ידה - And I find more bitter than death the woman whose heart is snares and nets, her hands are bonds.
This is the woman who causes a man to sin, to fall, perhaps even to die – all because of her own selfish interests.
This is reminiscent of a passage in the Talmud (Eruvin 41a) which states: “Three classes of people do not see the face of Gehenna (because the suffering they bear in this world atones for their sins): those suffering extreme poverty, those with intestinal disease, and those oppressed by creditors. And some say: even one who has an evil wife (who constantly harasses him, puts him down, and makes his life miserable).”
The Gemara asks why “there are those who add” the final example – and the sages didn’t include that woman in their original list of 3? Answer: because divorce is a remedy from being in that situation.
The Gemara counters, not everyone can divorce. Sometimes the marriage contract is too large, and he can’t afford it. Sometimes they have children, and for whatever reason it is not possible for them to separate. The Gemara concludes that the person in this situation learns to accept these afflictions with love, knowing that the reward is coming in the next world for the suffering in this world.
Hopefully this passage speaks for itself, and no one should ever want to fall into the category of being this “evil wife.”
Can a man cause a woman to sin? Surely. The examples of that in the Torah, however, are limited to a theoretical case of seduction when a betrothed woman is in a city and doesn’t cry out. Otherwise the woman hasn’t sinned if the man has taken advantage of her: Sarai doesn't sin with Pharaoh or Avimelekh (even if something did happen - she was a victim), Dinah didn’t sin with Shechem, Tamar (King David’s daughter) doesn’t sin with Amnon (King David’s son, her rapist). Even BatSheva with King David is far less to blame – she is taken by the king… is she going to object?
But we have examples of women who entice men in the Torah and cause them (or try to cause them) to sin, such as the wife of Potiphar with Yosef, Kozbi with Zimri, even Tamar with Yehuda (an act which is ultimately exonerated for other reasons), Lot's daughters with their father.
Pardes Yosef explains the difference between the evil woman described by the Talmud, and a fine woman, by way of a Midrash. Hanging a hat on the Eishes Chayil passage, and based on a verse in Eichah (1:14) – “נְתָנַ֣נִי אֲדֹנָ֔י בִּידֵ֖י לֹֽא־אוּכַ֥ל קֽוּם - the Lord delivered me into the hands of those so that I could not get up” - the Midrash defines the helping woman as one who provides for her husband grain to be ground, and flax (linen) to be dried (for its various purposes) – giving him work to do, but also helping the household financially). As a result, she enlightens his eye and puts him on his feet. There are two things which put a man on his feet: a good woman, and money. [both help him see purpose in his life and allow for him to afford that which he needs to survive, get by, etc] A wicked woman takes both of these away from him – per the passage from Eichah above and the Talmudic passage from Eruvin above – on account of her unaffordable ketubah (which takes his money) and through her own demeanor (which destroys him).
This absolutely puts a significant onus on women, who have tremendous power in a relationship, to see to it that they are helpers who protect a man from sinning. Every person might get into a relationship to serve personal and egotistical purposes, but ultimately both people need to put in more goodness in order to get the maximum output and maximum positivity from the relationship.
Righteous women are particularly aware of this and may sacrifice many wants and desires in life in order to be in that position of being an ezer k’negdo. Ultimately, however, as the saying goes, “it takes two to tango,” and both parties need to see themselves as if in a position of bearing the responsibility of the other person’s wellbeing.
The woman certainly messed up in the garden in falling prey to the enticement of the snake. She should not have enticed her husband to fall prey as well by giving him the forbidden fruits. In the end, however, they were both responsible for their own actions, and thus they both suffered the shared consequence of banishment from the Garden.
Blaming others is not the answer. Taking the blame for one’s actions is the true test of responsibility and is the most important take-home-lesson from this tale. “Only YOU are to blame for whatever YOU DO.”
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