You are married, or intensely committed, to a vision, a goal, a dream. You are devoted to this vision because you know it will make the world a better place for yourself and everyone else. You believe that, regardless of the effort it takes, following through with this goal will ultimately make your life more fulfilling, more altruistic, loftier.
Then along comes life. And with it the ups and downs, the challenges and the obstacles.
You're not sure of the cause, but at some point, you find that you have swerved from your path, strayed from your morals. It might have been restlessness or boredom with the monotony of the day to day minutiae. Or perhaps it was a spirit of impulsiveness, a rebellion against the swerves that life has thrown you.
If I do change paths now, what will be the end result?
Maybe you can be blamed for losing your vision and forgoing your ideals. Or maybe you couldn't ever have been expected to rise above the harsh circumstances of your life.
Whatever the case, you wake up one morning to the realization that you have changed. You are no longer leading the life that you had always believed you would. You have strayed from your moral vision. You have betrayed your dream.
You may ask yourself: Is there a path of return? Do I want to take it? Are the costs too high? Is it worth the effort? If I do change paths now, what will be the end result? Will I ever fully succeed?
Common wisdom, laced with its jaded cynicism, says there's no turning back the clock. Move on with life, leave your childish idealism behind and face the reality of adulthood. Life is not a bed of roses; you need to look out for yourself and your needs. Forget your lofty ideals; a path of sacrifice is not where you will find fulfillment. And anyways, once you have already veered off the path, it can never be the same. It's simply too late.
Torah wisdom, of course, asserts the opposite.
This week's Torah reading discusses the law of the isha sotah, the "wayward wife" who is suspected of adultery.
Moralists see the story of the isha sota as expressing the sanctity and holiness of marriage in Judaism.
Others see G-d's willingness to erase His holy name for the sake of marital harmony as an indication of the importance of peace between man and wife, and amongst mankind in general.
It is a question here of simple existence, whether the marriage will or will not continue
Kabbalists see the story as a cosmic metaphor of the "marriage" between G-d and the "wayward" Jewish people, who are tested and eventually exonerated
through the "bitter waters" of exile.
But perhaps we can also see, in the story of the sotah, a promising lesson for each of us in the personal sojourns of our own lives.
Speak to the children of Israel and say to them: Should any man's wife go astray and deal treacherously with him;
And a man lie with her carnally, but it was hidden from her husband's eyes, but she was secluded [with the suspected adulterer] and there was no witness against her... (Numbers 5:12-13)
The isha sotah is labeled a wayward wife because she has "strayed," deviated from the prescribed moral road, even if she has not been implicated for
actual adultery. Her husband has warned her in the presence of two witnesses not
to seclude herself with her suspected lover. She has ignored this warning. Her
behavior prevents the marriage from being permitted to continue.
At this point, the husband or the wife can decide to terminate the marriage, without any admittance of guilt. Neither the husband nor the wife can be forced to have the test of the bitter waters.1
But should they wish to resume their marriage, the suspecting husband brings his wife to the Holy Temple, where the
kohen enacts the ceremony of the bitter
waters. The husband then brings an offering for his wife, making it clear that
he wishes to continue the marriage should his wife be vindicated.2
The offering consists of un-sifted, coarse barley flour, the commonest
grain, without the oil or incense that accompany other grain offerings. It is a question here of simple existence, whether the marriage will or will not
continue. An animal food--barley--is brought to signify the wife's questionable moral standing: even if her guilt has not reached the point of actual adultery,
she has veered from the pure path and followed her animalistic instincts.
The kohen shall take holy water in an earthen vessel, and some earth from the
mishkan floor, the kohen shall take and put it into the water.
Then the kohen shall stand the woman up before the Lord and uncover the [hair on the] head of the woman...3
He shall then give the bitter, curse-bearing waters to the woman to drink, and the curse-bearing waters shall enter her to become bitter (ibid., verses 17-18, 24)
Relevant passages from the Torah were written on a scroll and dissolved in
the "curse-causing waters." The name of G-d appeared in these passages and in
the process would be erased. If the woman was guilty of actual adultery, the
waters would cause her an accursed death.4 If not, she would be
blessed with offspring and her marriage would enjoy a newfound commitment and
happiness.5
The isha sotah, like each of us struggling with the vicissitudes of our own lives, has never really entirely strayed
But since the isha sotah had strayed from the proper path--even if she had not actually committed adultery--why was she blessed so abundantly?
Because, in truth, the isha sotah, like each of us struggling with the vicissitudes of our own lives, has never really entirely strayed. We are still "married" to our ideals and vision, since they are so much a part of our soul. We simply need to be reunited with our true, inner self.
Like the isha sotah on her path of exoneration and return, this takes effort. It takes strength of character. It might involve humiliation or sacrifice. But if our resolve is firm enough, if our character is up to the challenge, if we persevere in what we know is true and right, ultimately, we will succeed.
G-d stands at our side. Once we have demonstrated our commitment, He will
defend us, even allowing His own name and honor to be "erased" while assisting
us in our endeavor.
Moreover, not only will we succeed at realigning our own life to what it was originally, but our commitment and the fruits of our commitment will be more productive, and more blessed, leading to greater yields and to a more mature relationship with ourselves and with our world.
Because we haven't just returned to what we were. We have grown through the process.
True growth is not about only persevering on one straight path. Only after tasting of the bitter waters of life, only after struggling and stumbling and standing up against the darker forces of our world, do we become a greater, more courageous and enriched human being. Only after straying and then rebounding are we driven with a stronger yearning for inner unity and divine life. Only after experiencing the darkness of life's night and the desolation of its winters do we attain an even more intense and meaningful bond with G-d.
The lesson of the isha sotah to each of us, man or woman, is that though
our path may be a difficult and twisted one, when we victoriously face down the
wearying struggles and tempting choices, we emerge as a greater individual, and
as a redeemed people, in a redeemed world.