Introduction and Context:
This essay/reflection comes out of small- and large-group work within the Jewish Theological Seminary’s pioneering Gender, Torah, and Tradition Fellowship, a year-long examination of challenging parts of Jewish religious texts and traditions as they relate to fellows’ experiences with and understandings of gender in Jewish life.
I chose to explore Proverbs 31:10-31, colloquially known as Eshet Chayil (A Woman of Valor). It is sung or recited to the woman of the household on Friday night to recognize her work inside and outside the home throughout the week and in preparation for Shabbat. This practice is most popular in Orthodox homes, as some Conservative and most Reform communities have rejected it as a relic of misogynistic understanding of women’s roles in antiquity. My personal discomfort with the themes of the text has inspired many projects throughout my last few years of school, most notably an analysis of multiple re-imaginings of Eshet Chayil from different sources and their attempts to contend with the sexist or outdated portions of the original text. I hope this project achieves two main goals. The first is to engage individuals on the other side of the “Eshet Chayil aisle” from myself, providing a counter to my own skepticism and showcasing the love for this ritual and the manner in which it uplifts women in many Jewish homes. The second aim is to collect a wide variety of perspectives in one place in conversation with the original verses, allowing each person to effectively “respond” to the text how they saw fit, either in the form of textual criticism or a showcasing of their personal experience and thoughts.
The following essay/reflection is meant, in a way, to create a dialogue that reflects the structure of the Talmud and related texts. In the Talmud, psukim (verses) are used as central prooftexts, and different sages’ responses are presented with “Amar Rabbi X” or another similar formula. The text is edited, embellished, and organized by a compiler known as the stam. In my essay/reflection, the lines of Proverbs are presented in bold and followed by responses from different individuals. To collect responses, I sent out a survey asking people to share their practice (or lack thereof) of reciting or singing Eshet Chayil on Shabbat and their feelings about the text, encouraging them to engage specific lines that delighted or challenged them. I assembled these responses and inserted my own anonymous comments, as the stam often does, in order to present a balanced analysis of the text.
The answers to my reflection questions, as I anticipated, showed the great diversity of thought about even the smallest words and phrases, both challenging the text and appreciating its important role in families and/or for women, partners, and friends. I received responses from individuals of all backgrounds – different genders and sexualities, ages, family and economic statuses, etc. I hope reading these reflections helps others to think critically about Eshet Chayil as a biblical text and as an enduring part of our tradition, of course, but also reinforces the idea that we must continue to wrestle with challenging passages. Throughout Jewish communities, liturgy and tradition like Eshet Chayil bring great meaning to some and are insurmountably challenging to others. Both these responses (and many more!) must be considered when we make space for these texts in weekly, monthly, or yearly rituals, and I hope the work like we’ve done in the Gender, Torah, and Tradition fellowship, work such as this essay/reflection, become the standard for nuanced consideration of difficult texts in our tradition.
This project uses the JPS translation of the text. Some respondents used the Hebrew text in their responses, and I have translated these responses where appropriate.
(10) What a rare find is a capable wife!
Her worth is far beyond that of rubies.
Gavi asked: Why is a capable wife a “rare find?” I take issue both with the word “capable” – does capable mean that she has to do every listed task written here? Who defines a “capable” woman? – and the idea that most women are not. If someone sang this to me weekly, I’d feel that I could never live up to this standard. It seems to me that the text feels this way also, and that makes me question the tradition, in theory, that everyone husband sings it to his wife. It’s strange to me to tell every woman that they’re a “rare find.” Personally, it makes sense – no two women are exactly alike and it’s beautiful to praise their uniqueness. But I think what makes Eshet Chayil a rare find is her good work as seen through the lens of the (presumably) male author, which bothers me.
Shachar said: With the long Jewish and secular history of women assigned a value material objects, this line doesn’t sit right with me. I would be shocked to find such a line in praise of a man (“a righteous man is worth a chest of diamonds,” for example), and so I find little compliment in the idea that my worth could be measured against rubies.
And lacks no good thing.
Shmuel responded: In this and a few other lines, she is quite obviously defined by her relationship with others (specifically men), which I don’t like.
Elisheva said: Part of the reason why we don’t say Eshet Chayil in our house is because it doesn’t represent our family. There is no “husband” in our home, and since the Eshet Chayil is presented as so connected to and enveloped in a heteronormative nuclear family, with a husband and children, it just feels like it doesn’t fit. There are many places in which changing the text to be more representative makes sense for us, but this isn’t one of them. The whole text feels like she is bound to her husband and a life semi-controlled by a male figure.
All the days of her life.
Levi said: The Woman of Valor must always work in absolutes. Her husband lacks nothing, and she is ALWAYS good to him, ALL the days of her life. It feels simultaneously stifling and lofty, both in a bad way. My girlfriend is not always good to me, but that is the mark of being a human being in the world. Sometimes you make mistakes, say the wrong thing, react badly. I don’t feel comfortable holding her to this kind of standard.
And sets her hand to them with a will.
Sam said: I think in our modern age, the focus on these typical “women’s work” lines would draw scrutiny. Obviously, we no longer live in a society where women are relegated mainly to textile work, if employed at all. I see the possibility, though, to understand the historical context of this text, and recognize that her hard work in stereotypically female domains then can be analogous to a woman’s effort in whatever her occupation or “work” is in the modern day.
(14) She is like a merchant fleet,
Bringing her food from afar.
And supplies provisions for her household,
The daily fare of her maids.
Daniella said: Appreciating her work is important, but this line and “her lamp never goes out at night” suggests that she works all day and all night (which seems very possible with all the different tasks these psukim enumerate!). Especially in our modern world where women are expected to work outside the home and do the emotional and mental work of homemaking, does this Eshet Chayil exist as an unachievable (and sexist) standard?
She plants a vineyard by her own labors.
Jacob said: Any line that describes the woman as materially successful is important, in my mind.
Daniella added: It blows my mind, the thought that the Eshet Chayil can both buy/sell land (though it is admittedly unclear who “owns” this land, likely her husband), and also do the work to plant an entire vineyard on her own (in addition to all the other jobs set out for her!)
And performs her tasks with vigor.-c
Her lamp never goes out at night.
Sarah said: I love that this portrays her as having a business (or multiple – looking for land, planting a vineyard, creating clothing, and more). I think there’s a really damaging tendency to understand the sources we have, that often portray women as housewives, as the only historical possibility for women at this time. I think Proverbs 30:10-31 provides a radical departure from this narrative and can potentially be conceived of as feminist in its own way – it shows a woman who is able to handle work inside the home and out and who is not limited the way we might assume women were at that time.
Her fingers work the spindle.
Her hands are stretched out to the needy.
Sam reflected: This is easily one of my favorite lines. I think the fact that Eshet Chayil is praised for her wisdom, for her kindness, for her commitment to giving tzedakah is such a powerful sentiment. It reminds me of “al shloshah devarim ha’olam omeid: al hatorah, al ha’avodah, v’al g’milut chasadim.” [On three things the world stands: Torah, service, and acts of loving kindness]. Eshet Chayil is committed to learning, hard work, and acts of loving kindness – and those qualities are certainly not gendered in Judaism.
For her whole household is dressed in crimson.
Her clothing is linen and purple.
Laila said: A small moment in this text that I like: the simplicity of making colorful clothing for herself. Even though so much of her time must be dedicated to dressing her household, and making garments to sell, she also devotes time to making sure her own needs are met.
As he sits among the elders of the land.
Daniella responded: This line feels like it encapsulates the unfairness of this text. She is a business owner and runs a materially successful and happy home, yet it is her husband who is recognized as “prominent.” More realistically, it is BECAUSE she works so hard in both the public and private spheres that he has the time and ability to have this position of honor and respect.
And offers a girdle to the merchant.
She looks to the future cheerfully.
Her tongue with kindly teaching.
Noa exclaimed: This is my favorite line ever!
Baruch added: I love this line because I feel that it is true to my wife, who is kind and also a talmidah chachamah.
(27) She oversees the activities of her household
And never eats the bread of idleness.
Her husband praises her,
Levi responded: Something about this line has always felt off to me, especially with the line about looking to the future cheerfully. I feel like there’s a pressure here for the Eshet Chayil to be constantly happy, no matter how much work she has to do. How is it that the children are “declaring her happy”… is she really happy, or are they just “declaring” it?
But you surpass them all.”
Shmuel reflected: I feel a lot more comfortable with Eshet Chayil since transitioning. Before I transitioned, it felt representative of a gender role that didn’t fit me. I dreaded sometime getting married and thinking of it being sung with the intention of it being sung toward me. It felt confining. Not really because anything specific about the text, but because I am not a woman and it is about a woman.
Sarah said: I wish this didn’t have to be comparative. It feels like this text hits all the classic misogynistic tropes: praising women but in a double-edged way, comparing women both to material objects and putting down some women to praise another… Why can’t all women do well and we leave it at that?
(30) Grace is deceptive,
Beauty is illusory;
It is for her fear of God
That a woman is to be praised.
Moshe said: I love this line because it promotes placing value in personal qualities rather than physical appearance.
Sarah said: I am conflicted about this line. In some ways, I feel it is the most similar to what one might recognize in praise of a man: her fear of God is the central quality to recognize. However, when it’s set in comparison to “deceptive” grace and “illusory” beauty, it feels like like a backhanded compliment. Both the stereotypically feminine nature of those two qualities and the fact that they are derided make the praise feel insincere.
(31) Extol her for the fruit of her hand,
And let her works praise her in the gates.
Sam responded: I feel like this encapsulates the true message – that women should be praised for the hard work that they do, whatever work it is. I think it’s so important that women are appreciated for what they do and I’m thrilled Judaism has a manner of praising them that is embedded in such a special time of rest. I wouldn’t change a thing about it – I love that Jews around the world can share in these psukim.
This piece would not have been possible without the help of my small group in the fellowship: Marjorie Lehman, Ben Kamine, and Yitz Landes. Their (related) pieces are linked within the verses of this one – Ben in 31:10, Yitz in 31:14, and Marjorie in 31:27, and each are truly excellent! I am also appreciative of the Jewish Theological Seminary (especially Marjorie Lehman and Stephanie Ruskay) for the opportunity to develop this piece.