The Struggle to Apply Jewish Ethics to Contemporary Family Issues

When the Rabbis of the Talmud expanded on Jewish ethics, and the responsibility of Jews everywhere to live according to those ethics, they could not have envisioned the world in which we live today. A world where abortions, contraception and non-marital sex are commonplace.  A world where the internet has changed the face of communication between people, and terrorism has forever altered the laws of privacy.  Elliot N. Dorff explores these issues in his book Love Your Neighbor and Yourself(PA:JPS,2003.), and discusses how rabbinic teachings apply to these and other modern day concerns. 

    

As Dorff notes in his book, many contemporary issues are difficult to abide using Talmudic teachings. One of the most difficult has to be the issues facing today’s contemporary family. From conception to old age, Jewish ethical issues are not as clear cut for families as they once may have been. The ethical responsibilities of not only having children, but taking care of those children, and conversely, for those children to eventually take care of their parents may have been more easily applied centuries ago.  Today’s complicated family life can make it very difficult to discern how this same code of ethics is applied.

 

Ethical dilemmas can begin for potential parents before a child is even born. Some couples may not want to have children. Others may want to wait awhile, and choose to prevent pregnancy. Still others may decide to have children, but run into infertility problems. Dorff looks at all these issues, and the ethical directives that apply.

 

Dorff writes that married couples are not only encouraged, but required to have children according to the directive of Genesis 1 – that of course to be fruitful and multiply for the good of humanity. For the young married couple that does not want children at all then, there is no ethical provision around the Genesis directive. If they are physically able, Jewish couples must have children.

 

Dorff acknowledges however, that some people want to wait awhile before having children and need to use contraception. Interestingly enough, couples can prevent pregnancy without violating the ethos of propagation. Why? As Dorff explains, only the man is technically obligated to be fruitful and multiply. (Although how he can do this without a woman is still a mystery to me.) For this reason, it is perfectly acceptable for the woman to use contraception.  Dorff writes, “Even though the Rabbis of the Mishnah and Talmud knew that both men and women have indispensable roles in procreation and childrearing, they maintain that it is only the man who is legally liable for procreation – the stated reason is a specific interpretation of a verse in the Torah.” Dorff also explains that a man has not fulfilled this obligation until he has at least two children (unless of course there are infertility problems.)

 

With regards to contraception for women, the Rabbis not only allowed it, but also spoke to what methods the woman should use. Dorff writes, “Jewish sources from as early as the second century describe methods of contraception. A rabbinic ruling from that time prescribes the use of birth control devices when pregnancy would endanger either the woman or the infant she is nursing.”  Dorff continues by discussing more modern mandates on contraception. “From the point of view of Jewish law, the most favored form of contraception is the diaphragm, for it prevents conception and has little, if any, impact on the woman’s health.  If the pill or implant is not contraindicated…those are usually the next most favored forms of contraception. Jewish authorities recommend them because their success rate minimizes the possibility that the couple will later consider an abortion as a form of retroactive birth control.” 

 

Of course there are those couples who want children, but have infertility problems. Dorff explains that the mandate for procreation does not apply in situations of infertility. He writes, “…the Jewish teachings about the importance of having and raising children should not generate guilt or shame in infertile couples. The Jewish tradition should not add to their frustration by holding up an ideal that is impossible for them to fulfill, for Judaism can never be legitimately interpreted to expect the impossible.” Dorff goes on to say that Jewish law permits couples to attempt medical intervention but that they are not at all required to do so. He also says that adoption is encouraged by Jewish law, but this same law also mandates that the child be converted to Judaism no matter the race or age.

 

 I found the comments on adoption very thought provoking, because I had never thought of the “be fruitful and multiply” commandment in terms of one people.  I had always viewed it as a command for all humanity – and perhaps that is how it was originally intended. Dorff however, indicates it is a missive for Jews to continue the population of their people throughout the world. He writes, “Those who can produce or adopt children should see it as a mitzvah of the highest order to have more than the minimal number of two, for nothing less than the future of the Jewish community and of Judaism depends on that. The Jewish community after all, lost a third of its members in the Holocaust…and contemporary Jews are not producing enough children to maintain their present numbers. Add to these factors the high rate of intermarriage and assimilation among Jews today, and it becomes clear that we Jews are in serious demographic trouble as a people…propagation or adoption is literally a matter of life and death for us not only as individuals and as families but also as a people.” His argument is not only compelling, it is heartbreaking.

 

Once couples have their children, Jewish law mandates they take care of those children. For most people this mandate is easy – a parent is always responsible to take care of their child and help their child. Dorff writes, “Just as children have duties toward their parents, so too do parents have obligations toward their children. The classic Talmudic text delineating those duties is this – Rabbis taught a man is responsible to circumcise his son, to redeem him, to teach him Torah, to marry him off to a woman, and to teach him a trade, and there are those who say that he must also teach him to swim.” (Clearly modern times would expand education to include girls, and allow for young people to find their own spouses.)

 

In Talmudic times, children lived with their parents until they were married – which was often at a fairly young age.  It was then incumbent upon those children to go out and earn their own living and take care of their own family. Sons may still have worked with their fathers after marriage (the father was responsible for teaching their sons a trade as noted above), but they had to earn their keep and tend to their own.  Through the centuries, this has still been the norm in most cases.  However, there are nuances that have made the situation more complicated.

 

 For example, men and women are not getting married young anymore.  Many will graduate high school and then go to college – usually on their parents’ dime and technically still under their parents’ roof.  Whereas in the time of the ancient Jews, parents provided a roof over their family’s head and food for the table, modern times dictate a significant financial contribution, and a longer duration of care.  Dowries were once paid for a daughter’s hand in marriage – now it is the parents who usually pay when the daughter marries (with regards to the wedding itself.)

 

 Although the commitment on the part of the parents has increased tenfold, most parents are still more than happy to take this on. There are situations however, where this commitment is not so easy – and ethical issues can get very murky.  Specifically, I’m talking about situations that were not prevalent in ancient times – such as teens and young adults who have substance abuse issues. If such a child is living on the streets or spending all their time doing drugs, how can a parent fulfill their obligation to educate, teach a trade, or marry off? To what point is a parent obligated to care at all for that child??

    

A friend of mine has a son who is a recovering drug addict. This addiction started early in high schoo and had taken complete control of him by his junior year.  She believed he was using heroin most of the time, but could never really be sure.  For over a year, she and her husband took numerous trips to the ER. They got their son admitted to several rehab programs, but he always ended up using drugs again shortly after release.  He also had continual run-ins with the police.

    

By the time he was 17, his addiction was running the lives of everyone in the family.  His 14 year old brother was witness to the many battles between his parents and him. His parents who both have full time jobs, would come home to find he had either passed out, or had left the house altogether. He never showed up for school anymore. He had severe mood swings that frightened my friend (who is a petite woman.) She was afraid her son might hurt her in a drug induced rage. I remember talking to her on the phone one night while she was locked in her room afraid to come out. I could hear him pounding on her door and urged her to call the police. He eventually gave up, and left the house a few minutes later.

Finally, in the best interest of their younger son, (and to protect themselves,) they kicked him out of the house. They knew he’d wind up on the streets of New Haven – or hopefully on a buddy’s couch now and then – but they couldn’t allow him to stay in the house anymore.  He could call them if he was in trouble, but he couldn’t come back until he was clean.

    

Based on Talmudic teaching, this decision would have severe ethical implications. Kicking him out of the house before he was educated, or trained, or married is in direct conflict with Talmudic mandate.  The Rabbis however, could not possibly have foreseen a situation such as this. During the time of Moses, families were not torn apart by drug addiction. One could argue that my friend really was tending to her son by making that hard choice. (Her son eventually got clean, and has been sober for several years.) And yet, if she had been a devout woman of Jewish faith, the code of ethics may have stopped her from making that choice. Although I do believe that the Jewish code of ethics is right in its mandate that parents take care of their children, modern day situations may necessitate violation of those ethics.

    

Eventually the tide turns, and it is the children who are taking care of their parents.  Dorff discusses this at length – both in the general command to take care of one’s parents, and the even more difficult task of caring for the very elderly.  He explains, “It is important to understand that the duty to be with one’s aged parents is not only to be able to take care of their physical needs, a task that presumably could be done by a person hired for the job, but also for the psychological reason that they need company – especially from those who can most directly give them a sense of warmth and continuity…Even God, according to the Midrash, exemplifies this value by bidding us to build a sanctuary so that God can dwell among us…Thus although the major medieval codes do not directly require that children reside with parents, they undoubtedly assume it.”

    

Taking care of parents can be costly and emotionally draining. Where people did not live as long in Talmudic times, extensive medical care helps keep them with us much longer. This often requires the child to be a full time caregiver, or to place the parent in a convalescent facility – leading to much guilt for the child and unhappiness for the parent. Dorff writes, “Jews and others often construe the command to honor parents…as chiefly applying to young children and their parents.  Although young children should certainly be taught to honor their parents, until children reach the age of bar or bat mitzvah, they cannot be held legally responsible for anything. Thus the Rabbis understood the commandment as primarily governing the interactions of adult children of elderly parents.  That makes the commandment even more critical for adults nowadays than it was for our ancestors, for with many people living into their eighties, nineties, and beyond, and with families commonly scattered throughout the country or even the world, adult Jews need clear and wise guidance about what they need to do for their parents.”

    

Those of us who love our parents are more than willing to go to extreme lengths to care for them.  But what about the parents who aren’t loved? Some parents may have been abusive, or absent.  A strong sense of Jewish ethics might compel someone toward caring for an aging parent, but a dislike for that parent might override that sense of obligation.  Dorff notes, “One other important principle in regard to honor and respect of parents emerges from the sources-namely, that the parents should not make unreasonable demands of their children or punish their children in a way that will lead the child to rebel against them and dishonor them.”

    

My mother’s feelings about her parents exemplify both ends of the spectrum of love and hate.  Her father was an extremely abusive husband and parent. He was an alcoholic who often came home drunk and violent.  Once when my mother was 7, she and my grandmother heard him come in late at night with a stranger.  The two men were drunk of course, but my mother and grandmother heard enough of the conversation to know that her father had drunkenly hired the man to come home and kill them both.  Thankfully, the man backed out at the last minute and left. But it was enough to convince my grandmother to get a divorce. 

    

Mom’s father stayed in touch with her until she was about 9.  The last contact was a postcard she received, and she never heard from him again.  Eventually, he was dead to her.  I didn’t even know until I was in high school that he hadn’t really died when she was young.  Even when my brother found information years later that he had died of Parkinson’s when in his 70s, my mom was not the least bit interested. It wasn’t disinterest for self-protection – she truly was ambivalent.

 

 My mom is a very compassionate person. However, this man was so abusive in her early childhood, that my mom could not fathom trying to get him help or taking care of him had she even known he was sick.  Even if he had cleaned up his act (which apparently he had), my mother had nothing but feelings of hatred toward him and a stack of bad memories. This is why when reading the Jewish ethics on caring for our parents, my first thoughts were of my mom and her father. 

    

It should be noted that my mother is also a very religious person – a devout Catholic.  And I wondered if as a devout Jew she would put aside her personal feelings and somehow arrange care for this man.  As Dorff points out, “Although one must honor and revere parents, one important strain in the tradition asserts that a child is not obligated to love them.” Dorff further explains that although some of the ancient Rabbis (such as Rabbi Shelomo Yizhaki) said that children are under a legal obligation to love their parents, Maimonides thought differently. Dorff quotes Maimonides “Know that the Torah has placed us under a heavy obligation in regard to the proselyte.  For we were commanded to honor and revere our parents, and to obey the prophets…Now it is possible for a man to honor and revere and obey those whom he does not love.”  Dorff concludes, “Clearly, it is best to honor one’s parents out of love and to love them while fulfilling the duties of honoring them, but that is not always how a child feels. The law demands honor and respect for parents, but, at least according to Maimonides, it does not demand love of them.”  

    

My mother is a perfect example of how it can be such a struggle – or even an impossibility – to fulfill this obligation for so many people.  To care for a parent in today’s world is difficult enough. It can take a lot of time and money.  It’s hard enough to do when you love the person.  But when you despise them? When they’ve abused you?  It’s a lot to stomach for many people. I know it would be too much for my mom with regards to her father.

    

On the flip side, my mom did take her mother in 30 years ago. My grandmother still had a job as a salesclerk, but not enough to pay for rent and food.  My parents convinced her to move in, after her apartment was no longer affordable.  The ethical decision of taking in my grandmother was easy for my mom.  She loved her and wanted to help her.  My parents gave (and my mom continues to give her) a home, food, even money.  My parents have always lived on a very thin shoestring. My father certainly didn’t relish having my grandmother there – she is known as a “nudge” by the whole family.  They both felt however, that it was the right thing to do.

    

The challenge of the ethic here has been trying to continue to honor her while she’s lived there.  I have love for my grandmother, but she has the maturity of an 8 year old. She throws tantrums, complains constantly, and is extremely self-centered.  She is sharp as a tack, so it is not an elderly affliction.  She has been this way since she moved in. She just decided a long time ago to let my mom assume the role of responsible adult. When she doesn’t get her way, she somehow brings the conversation to how hard it was for her as a single parent. She talks of how my mom’s having mononucleosis at age 11 really set her back financially – an extremely manipulative tactic.  The irony is that my mom had a full time job at 18, and married my dad at 20. My mom has been taking care of my grandmother much longer than my grandmother took care of her.

      

I know it has been very difficult over the years for them to deal with her, but my parents have been as patient as they could be and always kind – sometimes to a fault.  When my dad died, we all joked that he could finally rest in peace. Sometimes I think God rewarded him for being so ethical…   Even now when my grandmother yells at my mom to stop crying about missing my dad, my mom will stand up for herself or walk away – but she is never cruel to my grandmother. To me, this exemplifies the missive of honoring and respecting a parent.  

    

What’s interesting to me – particularly in regards to taking care of one’s parents – is when the Talmudic laws are in conflict.  On the one hand, my parents should care for my grandmother under the Talmudic assumption mentioned before of inviting one’s parents – particularly when not infirm – to live with them.  On the other hand, the Talmud also prescribes that the parent not put unnecessary burden on their children. Dorff writes that, according to Maimonides and Joseph Karo, “If he finds that he cannot endure the situation because of [the parent’s] extreme madness, he may leave and go away, appointing others to care for them properly.” Dorff then explains, “Jewish sources specifically demand that a parent not make overly burdensome or provocative demands on a child so that the child is tempted to dishonor or disrespect the parent…because in making a demand that evokes the response, the parent would thereby transgress the biblical command of not putting a stumbling block before the blind.”

    

It is clear that today’s challenges make it difficult to adhere to the ethical mandates set forth by the ancient Rabbis.  It would be a stretch though to say that these ethics don’t apply anymore.  They were set forth as a guide for living life as God would want his people to live, and so will always be relevant.  The challenge is adhering to the spirit of the teachings, when modern situations may not always allow for following direct missives. The Jewish people have struggled with worse however, and will continue to face these challenges – individually and as a people.