Blessing vs. Control

"My friend married at 40," she was saying over the phone. "She says he was everything she could have wanted, he's her Mr. Perfect, and definitely worth the wait. But," she sighed, "she doesn't have children."

"But who's to say," I replied, "that if she married at 30, she would have had children?" 

The phone went silent. 

I try to think if I would have married "someone" just to have children. It sounds rather bleak. Especially as there are no guarantees that one can actually have children. 

Children are a blessing, the same way marriage is a blessing. While some insist marriage is a choice, my own experiences has made me believe that it is a blessing, meaning out of one's control.

Articles that shake their heads over the "crisis" talk about "the no" as though it is the end of everything. "She said no," they gasp, "and then he got engaged to someone else!" Well, yeah, that's bound to happen at some point. I don't think she expected him to stay single forever pining over her. 

But if he doesn't get engaged to someone else . . . I mean, we've all heard stories, right? Days later, weeks later, months later, years later, they marry. 

OK, so what's my point? It's not in our control. Not the spouse, not the kids. I've started to hate the word "hishtadlus," a term initially meant for parnassa that was applied willy-nilly to dating, because I CAN'T CONTROL WHO SHOWS UP. Suddenly everything is hishtadlus: research is hishtadlus, singles events are hishtadlus, dating online is hishtadlus. That doesn't make sense.

The joy of being religious is the belief that I am part of a greater plan. I am part of the story, not the storyteller. 

Definition of "Shidduch System"

In the recent edition of The Jewish Action, there is an article entitled, "Does the Shidduch System Need an Upgrade"?

The author, an educator, finds it understandably distressing as multiple girls come to her and weep over their experiences "in the parsha." 

These eligible women tend to do the same thing: meet shadchanim and hope they set them up. The author (correctly, in my opinion) does not believe this to be the best option to find one's soulmate, especially considering these shadchanim don't really know their clientele. 

So she did an unofficial survey, and discovered that out of 256 couples, only 12.8% were set up by "official" shadchanim (that's 32 couples). 

She proposes that this current "shidduch system" requires an upgrade, such as co-ed Shabbos meals.

I agree wholeheartedly with the first part of the article; the latter . . . not so much. 

(1) There is the false assumption that "shidduch system" = "professional" shadchan. It doesn't. That's a recent, and I mean very recent, development. 

"Shidduch system" = blind date. That's pretty much it. It's not dependent upon who's arranging the date. There is other protocol involved, which applied in a time where "saving face" was a concern, but that has fallen by the wayside as profiles became ubiquitous (once, a person would call up and sell the person they were suggesting; now they opt for an inadequate piece of paper). 

(2) The author references one girl's frustrations, noting that she comes from a family where "the shidduch system" is alien to them. 

I'm a firm believer that if someone tries to take up a method or lifestyle that is inherently foreign to them, there will be extreme difficulty in practicing it naturally. This girl would prefer to meet eligible fellows through a middleperson, however she believes that means going to shadchanim. 

But "professional" shadchanim, as I have learned, have limited abilities. I went to a few (at their request) who actually did have street cred. They never set me up. 

Those who grew up with the shidduch system (as I did) rarely interact with shadchanim. In my case, it was my aunt's best friend whose daughter is married to Han's cousin. My siblings were set up by a high school friend, an aunt, and Ma's friend's mother-in-law. Ma herself made a shidduch. Ta did too. 

While the author may have faith that co-ed meals might do the trick, my experience with them was not pleasant (why would the host break out the Johnnie Walker?) 

The shidduch system relies on Jewish Geography. It relies on community. It relies on each of us caring about our fellow human. The author does allude to this, but as a theory if it turned out that most people were set up by non-professionals: 

I may discover, for example, that the most likely person to set you up is a close mentor figure, such as a rabbi, a teacher or someone with whom you are a ben or bat bayit (responses to the “Other” category from our previous question intimated as much). Knowing that simple fact would vastly change the landscape of my students’ hishtadlut. It would mean that primarily I should counsel them to develop deep relationships with people they know and respect, and who may have access to potential dates. It would mean that getting to know someone deeply is more likely to get you married than meeting with fifty shadchanim in a superficial way.

You don't even have to know someone deeply. I didn't even know my shadchan before marriage. But she knew my family well, through my aunt; she knew our values, our background, and my aunt certainly knows me well. Based on that criteria, she put herself out there and made a call. 

But the average single doesn't really like that method, because they don't have control over it. Whereas by going to a shadchan, one has the illusion of control. But being frum means recognizing we aren't in control. 100 shadchanim will not guarantee a bashert. 

It can be terrifying to redt. I tried to a few times in my single days, and they did not end well (and that was when no date actually took place). I currently had a thought about setting up a neighbor's friend with Han's friend, but I'm worrying if my instincts are totally off, and I'll just be guaranteeing two people to a miserable outing and they'll hate my guts forever. 

But on second thought, I think what truly upset me more about bad dates was the shadchan's dismissive attitude to my (polite) refusals. So I guess, based on my own harrowing journey, I should focus on simply being nice and listening. 

How to Stay Sane While Dating: XII (a recap of I)

I'd like to circle back to that tricky word, "hishtadlus." 

In my original post on the topic, I applied the same premise of hishtadlus as seen in terms of parnassah. However, I had an insight recently that shows that comparison to be faulty. 

A few weeks ago, Rabbi Noson Weisz had a dvar Torah for Parshas Shlach, in which hishtadlus is discussed. The source for the concept of hishtadlus comes from Adam's curse following his sin: "Accursed is the ground because of you; through suffering shall you eat of it all the days of your life ... By the sweat of your brow shall you eat bread until you return to the ground from which you were taken." (Genesis 3:17-19)

Rabbi Weisz elucidates: 

Man's bread comes from God in any case and does not grow out of his application of effort. It was man's sin that brought the curse of effort down on his head. While no one can escape this curse entirely as long as our present world endures, it is obvious that it would be the act of an idiot to voluntarily subject oneself to a curse more than is absolutely mandatory.

It says b'feresh in the Torah that mankind has to make an effort in order to eat. But it doesn't say where effort is required anywhere else.  

How did Adam find Chava? Endless Starbucks dates? Prowling through singles events? Scrolling online?

Adam desired a helpmeet. Once he did, Hashem provided him with one. 

I came across this story: 

An older bachur once came to the Tosher Rebbe, zy'a, exasperated over his plight, beseeching him for a bracha that he find his bashert. The Rebbe warmly responded, "Hashem wants you to be a chassan just as much as you do." The bachur then asked, "So, Rebbe, what am I to do now?" The Rebbe answered firmly, "NOTHING!" 

What I found surprising was how the family guru had a nearly identical story with Rav Moshe.  

There is a matter of debate between the Rambam (and another one, I have to run it by Ta) about what is involved in order to marry. I think it's according to the Rambam that you have to want to, and that who you marry is decreed by Hashem (bechira has nothing to do with it). 

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS???

There doesn't seem to be any hishtadlus required in order to marry. Girls certainly don't have it, especially considering they never were cursed with hishtadlus in the first place (we just get the guaranteed pain and suffering of childbirth. No biggie). 

I think the one thing that really hit home for me when I met and married Han was how futile all those years of obsessing with "what to do" were. Yes, I wanted to marry, I was chalishing to marry, but the Eibishter was gently saying, "Not yet, mammelah, not yet."  

Obviously, holing up in your basement and becoming a smelly hermit won't exactly encourage a mate. But most of us belong to a community where people know us, and they tend to try to set us up. 

We just have to stay sane as they eat up our kishkes, though. 

Love and Hate

Our eyes are weak with longing for Your love, 
for we are loathed by a hateful foe:
see how afflicted we are within, 
and how, without, we're abhorred—
like Leah, whose suffering You saw, 
as You bore witness to her distress. 
She was hated at home, 
and also despised abroad. 
Not each beloved, however, is loved,
and all who are hated are not hated:
some are hated below, but loved on high. 
Those You despise are despised,
and those You love are beloved. 
We are hated because we love
You who are holy. 

—From Piyutei Yannai (sixth century poet)

seen in Sacred Trash: The Lost and Found World of the Cairo Geniza by Adina Hoffman and Peter Cole

P'ru U'r'vu

"Get married to someone who isn't tall," she said before I even had a chance to say that I wasn't in the market for height. "Then you'll at least have kids. Before you know it, you'll be 30." 

I was 23 at the time. I have to say, I am very, very happy I rolled my eyes at her "advice."

Women worry a lot about their "biological clock," especially single women. If "declining fertility" wasn't terrifying enough, then there are those gloomy "predictions" regarding birth defects. 

Luke recently discovered Adam Ruins Everything, and I must say he is refreshingly soothing. (Check out his video on expiration dates and low-fat foods.) 

Come to think of it, regarding people I know, the myths don't apply. Babi had a miscarriage during her first marriage, pre-war; post-Holocaust, she married again at 32, and swiftly proceeded to have children, including twins at the age of 38 (that was without medical intervention. Don't think they had that in her Hungarian town). 

Fertility issues and birth defects aren't a guarantee of age, at least not to what I've heard in real life. 

So, single ladies and "elderly" newlyweds? Leave it up to God. From what I hear, He doesn't outsource this job to anyone else.

Overheard on Subway

"I wasn't looking for a relationship. I thought, 'After I finish medical school.' But it happened, and it's great. I'm 19. Do I know if it's going to last? Who knows? But you know what? I'm just going to leave it to God."

Mind you, I edited out the plethora of f-words.