Parshat Bereishit: A Help Opposite?
"G-d said, it is not good for man to be alone. I will make a help-opposite for him" (Genesis 2:18).
With these words, the very first value judgment made by G-d, the Creator alerts us to one of the most basic existential issues of humanity. A deeper understanding of this divine judgment will enable us to recognize how the Torah views the fundamental human predicament, the ideal relationship between husband and wife, and the significance of the sexual act between them. In this week’s portion, Bereishit, and the upcoming portion of Noah, we’ll be examining the cyclical unity which begins with one man’s aloneness—Adam---and ends with the entire world’s aloneness at the Tower of Babel. The issues under consideration can be broken down into four basic questions. Two will be discussed this week and the others next week. The first problem is the strange Hebrew term, "Ezer kenegdo," the phrase G-d uses to describe the creature He will provide for Adam in order to conquer his being alone. The literal translation is help-opposite. Other translations are "help meet" or "a help to match him" or "compatible helper"; terms which do not fully reflect the inner tension of the concept. Rashi, in explaining the phrase, writes, "if the man is worthy, then his wife will be an ‘ezer’ (a helper), and if he’s unworthy, she’ll be a ‘kenegdo’, (against him, an opposite force)." Despite Rashi’s commentary, a help-opposite is still an unusual term. If it’s not good for Adam to be alone, why doesn’t G-d simply create a ‘helper’ for him, why an ‘opposite’? Second, if G-d is so worried about Adam’s being alone, why in the middle of creating his helper, does the text turn to something different—Adam’s naming of the animals: "The Lord G-d had created from the earth all of the beasts of the field, and all of the fowl of the heavens, and He brought them to man to see what he ought to call them. And whatever name man gave to any of these creatures, that was its name. So man called names to all of the animals and the fowl of the heavens and all of the beasts of the field. But the man did not find a help-opposite who was compatible for him" (Gen. 2:19-20). This second question is compounded by the fact that the Torah actually seems be weighing the possibility that Adam’s help-opposite might be found among the donkeys, camels or other four-legged creatures—an amazing as well as revolting suggestion! Our answer begins with an analysis of the Hebrew word "levado". Aloneness has two aspects. First there is social loneliness, someone who has no one with whom to share his innermost thoughts and emotions. Several verses back we read that, "The Lord G-d formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life: and man became a living soul" (Gen. 2:7). The Targum translates "living soul" to mean "ruah memalela," a spirit that speaks. It would seem axiomatic to say that a human being is a creature that speaks, who must speak in order to feel alive. Indeed Aristotle defines the human being as a social animal, and so the act of communication is built into the very psyche of our being. And when a person doesn’t have anyone to communicate with, it’s tragic. The second type of aloneness cuts close to the very bone of life and death. We could call it existential aloneness, a concept already alluded to in the Torah because of the infinitive odd form of the verb ‘heyot’ in our key verse, "Lo tov heyot adam levado, (it is not good for the human being to be alone)" (Gen. 2:18). In this form the word ‘heyot’ suggests the existential condition of one’s being. "It is no good. . . being. . . man… alone" refers not only to be socially alone, but also to an aloneness which penetrates to the depths of one’s very existence. Everyone has dreams and aspirations, and whether we realize most of them, a portion of them, or virtually none of them, the day arrives when we shall embark upon a journey we must take alone. The dread of the end, dying, leaving nothing behind, is the mood behind God’s declaration that, "…it is not good for man to be alone." No one can join you for the ride that is the journey of death—not even the people who gave birth to you. Therefore, the Torah is telling us that what a human being desperately needs is a relationship that will help assuage his loneliness even in the face of death. And apparently, the "ezer kenegdo" can help the human being in respect to both of his needs. How so? Ezer means "help," but the only way the "ezer" can truly help is if he or she is willing to limit him/herself and allow the other person to occasionally stand opposite, to feel opposite, to think opposite. A marriage partner is not a geisha girl or guy responsible to serve drinks and set the table. A life’s partner must be able to say no if that is necessary—the ‘kenegdo’ part—because if you marry a yes-sayer, you aren’t really being confronted by, or confronting another; moreover, the lips may be moving one way, but the heart may be saying no silently until the heart breaks from the weight of "nos." In the end, a "help-opposite" creates its own synthesis, and a new oneness is born. The couple must drink together but not always from the same cup, so that one can correct the other, complement the other, cheer and comfort the other, help and be helped by the other. Only then is the one not alone. The second question dealt with the sequence of the Biblical account, why G-d brought the animals to Adam to be named before creating Eve. This problem is clarified when we realize that when we name something, we define it, and when we define it, we control it—be it a painting we’ve completed, a pet we’ve acquired, or a new computer program we are designing. However, a relationship of control is not a relationship of complement; it is one-sided and not mutual, taking and not giving. Indeed, humanity is to control the physical, animal world ("and you, Adam, shall subdue them, the animals" is, after all, the divine charge to Adam), but husband is not meant to control wife. If he does, he has lost out on discovering his ‘ezer-kenegdo,’ and he will never be able to overcome his social loneliness. We cannot partner with a lesser being whom we subdue! (The phrase "he shall control her" is a punishment and a far cry from the ideal) Furthermore the miraculous product of a man-woman relationship of mutuality is the birth of a child, the continuity of our individual selves, our very DNA, in a historical future beyond our individual life-spans, our gate-way to eternity. Since the birth of a child is impossible with an "animal" relationship, Adam must be provided with another possibility to assuage his social loneliness and his existential aloneness. Hence, the stage is set for the creation of Eve, with whom he shall become one flesh, and through whom he, as well as society, can overcome tragic isolation.
Posted by Rabbi Shlomo Riskin on 10/03 at 03:59 PM • Hits: 140
