Why Does the Torah Allow Something That Can Lead to Trouble?

You have probably experienced this at least once: You contacted a government office to receive something you were entitled to, an official told you which documents to submit, and after you submitted everything, your request was denied. Sound familiar?

And how many times have you found yourself arguing with that official’s supervisor: “But I did everything your representative told me to do. I brought everything you asked for. So why was my request rejected?”

Now let us pause that scenario and try to put ourselves in the shoes of the soldier described in this week’s Torah portion.

The Soldier and the Captive Woman

At the beginning of the parashah, the Torah discusses the laws governing an optional war and addresses the case of a Jewish soldier who sees a beautiful woman among the captives and desires to marry her. Under exceptional circumstances, the Torah permits him to do so, following a strict process, because, as Rashi explains, “If the Holy One, blessed be He, would not permit her to him, he would marry her in violation of the prohibition” (Rashi on Deuteronomy 21:11).

There is an important lesson here. The Torah’s 613 commandments were given with a profound understanding of human nature. A person is capable of keeping them if he truly chooses to do so. The proof is this very case: the Torah recognizes the extraordinary temptation facing a soldier in the heat of battle and therefore makes an exceptional allowance to prevent him from sinning.

But let us return to the story. After permitting the soldier to marry the beautiful captive, the Torah immediately turns to the consequences within his family and then to the next generation, describing a rebellious son.

The Torah states: “When you go out to war... and you see among the captives a beautiful woman and desire her, and you take her for yourself as a wife... If a man has two wives, one beloved and the other hated... If a man has a wayward and rebellious son...” (Deuteronomy 21:10–18).

Rashi famously connects these three passages: “If he marries her, he will ultimately come to hate her... and ultimately he will father through her a wayward and rebellious son.”

Let us try to understand what is happening. The soldier finds himself in a situation in which the Torah permits him to marry a foreign captive. He follows the law, and what does he receive in return? He eventually hates the woman he was permitted to marry, and they have a rebellious son.

Moreover, after the rebellious son is stoned, his body is hung, as is the law regarding those executed by stoning (Sanhedrin 45). It almost seems as though the Torah is saying to the father, “Look at what happened. Was it worth it?”

But why? After all, regarding the beautiful captive, God Himself permitted her to him (Siftei Chachamim). What, then, do we want from this unfortunate soldier?

The Gravedigger Who Recognized the Signs

In a certain town lived a man who earned his living burying the dead. He performed his work faithfully and devotedly. Eventually, his daughters reached marriageable age. Matchmaking proposals began arriving, but because he did not have enough money to provide for their marriages, none of the matches came to fruition.

What could he do? The people in his town were dying far too slowly for him to earn enough money to marry off his daughters.

The gravedigger thought long and hard until he remembered that he had a cousin living in the big city, a famous and extremely wealthy man. “Surely he will be happy to help me,” he thought.

The gravedigger arrived at the wealthy man’s mansion and knocked on the ornate door. It opened only a crack.

“Who are you?” his cousin asked through the narrow opening.

The gravedigger was stunned. “What do you mean?” he replied. “Your mother and my father are siblings! Have I changed so much that you no longer recognize me?”

The wealthy man understood perfectly well why his relative had come. Not wanting to be asked for money, however, he pretended not to recognize him.

“No matter, my dear cousin,” said the gravedigger. “I only came to inform you that in two days you will die. I was concerned about you only because you are my relative. Rest in peace. Goodbye.”

The wealthy man was horrified. He immediately opened the door, invited his cousin inside, offered him a cold drink and began asking about his welfare. The gravedigger explained that he needed 50,000 rubles to marry off his daughters. The wealthy man promptly gave him the money.

But one question still troubled him. “How did you discover that I am about to die?” he asked anxiously.

The gravedigger smiled. “You see, I am a gravedigger by profession, so I am familiar with the symptoms that commonly appear shortly before death. One of the primary symptoms is loss of consciousness. When I saw that you had lost your recognition of me, I concluded that you must be close to death. But now that I see you recognize me after all, you can stop worrying. Clearly, your condition has improved.”

Why Hashem Gave Us Mitzvot

The Mishnah teaches: “The Holy One, blessed be He, wished to grant merit to Israel; therefore He gave them Torah and mitzvot in abundance” (Makkot 23b). The Midrash similarly teaches: “The mitzvot were given only in order to refine human beings” (Bereishit Rabbah 44:1).

The mitzvot refine us. They help cleanse us of the negative forces within us, regulate our darker impulses and strengthen us to face the challenges of life.

When a person loses sight of this fundamental truth, he may imagine that he is fully alive, but spiritually he has lost something essential. He can wander down a difficult path until he eventually discovers that the promises of material desire were little more than an illusion.

Now we can return to our soldier. He goes out to war. His eyes see, and his heart desires. He knows what the Torah ordinarily prohibits, but desire is powerful. It whispers that giving in will make him happy.

Yet Hashem, Who desires our good and therefore prohibited intermarriage, also desires the good of this soldier. Even after granting him an exceptional permission, the Torah attempts to discourage him from following through with his desire.

As Sefer HaChinuch explains, the Torah places obstacles before him in order to make the captive woman undesirable in his eyes, to diminish his attraction to her (Mitzvah 532; see Deuteronomy 21:12–13). The message is almost a plea: Wake up. Overcome the temptation. This is for your own good.

If the soldier were wise enough to understand that the Torah’s prohibitions exist for his benefit, he would realize that although this woman has been technically permitted to him under extraordinary circumstances, marrying her is still not necessarily the best choice for him. But if he convinces himself that what is ordinarily forbidden must somehow bring him happiness, experience itself may eventually teach him how much he could have gained by overcoming his desire.

When the Passion Fades

He marries her. Eventually, the storm of desire subsides, and suddenly he begins to see the reality of the person with whom he is living. Beforehand, he did not see clearly because his love depended on something external. Once that factor disappears, the love built upon it disappears as well.

He comes to hate his wife. Nine months later, a son is born. Like his father, this child also struggles to control his desires, imagining that indulging in what is forbidden will bring him happiness.

The Torah has traced the path from unchecked desire to its possible consequences. The soldier was permitted to marry the captive woman, but permission did not transform the object of his desire into something beneficial. The Torah accommodated his weakness while simultaneously warning him where that weakness could lead.

And we, who already know the “reward” that sin and uncontrolled desire can bring, are left with one final question: Will we make the same mistake again?