The Mirror of Marriage: What We Learn About Ourselves

This week I would like to share the story of an anonymous phone call I received.

"Hello and blessings, Rabbi," the woman began in a weak voice. "I want to consult about a very personal matter, but it is important for me to know that everything will remain confidential."

After I assured her that our conversation would remain private, she began to share her story. As always, identifying details have been changed.

"The truth is, I don’t even know where to begin. It’s about my husband. I am really struggling," she said, her voice breaking. I realized she was crying on the line.

I waited quietly, as I often do in such situations.

After a few moments she continued. "My husband, I’m embarrassed to say, is not truly a religious person. He has no real connection to Hashem. His spiritual state breaks my heart."

She sighed and went on.

"My father chose him as a devoted student and even supported him financially. At first my husband played the role perfectly. When we visited my parents on Shabbat, he would wake up early for prayers and share words of Torah. But at home he became a different person. He prays quickly by himself, rarely opens a book, and is immersed in the passing pleasures of this world.

"Over the years, as we had children and he realized how financially dependent I was on him, he simply let everything go. What remains is only the external appearance, a hat, a suit, and a beard. Underneath there is nothing."

At that point I gently interrupted her.

"I hear every word," I said. "I understand your pain, and I believe I may be able to help. But I have one request. I would like both of you to come together."

"Both of us?" she asked in surprise. "What does my involvement have to do with my husband’s problems? I am a straightforward woman, a God-fearing woman who is careful with every halachic detail. The problems are entirely his. I have nothing to do with this."

The First Meeting

A week later they arrived at my clinic.

The husband, Yosef Chaim, sat comfortably with his legs crossed, relaxed and composed. His wife Rivka sat rigidly beside him, every muscle in her body reflecting the pressure she carried.

I turned to Yosef Chaim and asked, "Why did Rivka contact me?"

He shrugged. "Honestly, I don’t understand the whole story. From my perspective life is good. I have a wonderful wife, healthy children, a respectable livelihood. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about."

"What fuss?" Rivka exclaimed. "Do you have any idea how much pain you cause me? The embarrassment I experience every day because of you raises my blood pressure. What do the neighbors think of someone who never comes to the synagogue? What about the children’s schools? What seminary will accept Leahla next year? I’m not even thinking yet about shidduchim."

"I don’t understand what you want from me," Yosef Chaim replied calmly. "I do know that there are many things where I take you into consideration even when it isn’t easy for me. You know very well that I wanted to replace our car with an electric one, which is more convenient and economical, and only because of your concerns about the neighbors I’m still paying for gas. I don’t know of any Torah prohibition against driving a comfortable car, but I understand your sensitivity.

"And I also don’t tell people that I am studying electrical engineering. Why am I doing it? Because I want to support our family honorably and pay off our debts. Maybe you prefer that we live off others, but I feel responsible for providing properly.

"Even here I feel that what motivates you is not a real issue but social pressure. That’s fine. I am not forcing you to overcome it. But please don’t blame me."

Nothing Is One-Sided

Dear readers,

In my view, there is no such thing as a one-sided problem.

Partners are like connected vessels. The level of water in both vessels is always the same.

When this woman came to me, I began to explore what truly motivated her relationship with Hashem. Gradually it became clear that strong external considerations were guiding her: What will people say. How can I influence my husband to change. How can I appear strong and committed.

In other words, there was much impressive external activity, but little deep inner connection.

A Mirror of the Heart

Her husband’s situation turned out to be an accurate reflection, almost like an X-ray of her own inner world.

At first glance it seemed that one partner represented values and morality while the other represented superficiality and self-interest. But a deeper look showed that even someone who appears very principled can be driven by fears just as much as a partner who appears worldly or detached.

When couples are willing to face themselves honestly and do the inner work, each partner can begin to build something genuine and precise within themselves.

May we merit to remove the outer layers and connect more deeply to the light of truth.

Wishing you a joyful and kosher Pesach.

Rabbi Aryeh Ettinger is a counselor and founder of a school for training marital counsellors.