Berashit: Why Get Married Anyway?
 “Do you know what a bachur is?”
It seemed like a pretty strange question to me at first. After all, I had just sat down with my rabbi for my first lesson on marriage, and I wasn’t expecting a vocabulary quiz. Besides, I had already lived in Israel for more than eight years and certainly spoke enough Hebrew to know the definition of that simple word.
“Of course,” I answered confidently, although somewhat suspicious about where the conversation was heading “A bachur is a young unmarried guy, as in ‘yeshiva bachur’”
And then, much to my surprise, my rabbi leaned over his desk, looked me straight in the eye and said “No, a bachur is someone who doesn’t know that anybody else exists in the world besides himself.”
For a brief moment I was surprised, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that I hadn’t failed my first vocabulary quiz. It may not have been obvious, but my rabbi was actually trying to answer what is arguably the most important question regarding marriage; one that many people never ask themselves: Why bother getting married in the first place?
The key to unhappiness is unfulfilled expectations. If we don’t have proper and realistic expectations before we begin any important endeavor, we’re setting ourselves up for disappointment. Most people intuitively understand this to be so, yet in my experience, most people fail to examine their expectations before entering into what is probably the single most important relationship of their life, which perhaps explains the epidemic of divorce and unhappy marriages in our society.
So why do we get married? What are we hoping to get out of it? Whenever I ask this question, it seems to catch people a little off guard at first; even people who have been married for decades. But when they do stop and reflect upon this question, people tend to give a variety of answers, including for the sake of such things as legal status, financial security, religious beliefs, or just a simple belief in commitment itself.
But in my experience with countless couples and marriage-minded singles, the most common motivation for getting married is a desire for companionship. Plain and simple, we all have a need to share our lives with someone. The second most common motivation is the desire to have a family. After all, even in a world with a shrinking ozone layer, most people still want to have children.
Which brings us back to our question; there’s certainly nothing wrong with companionship and children, and hopefully a good marriage will provide plenty of both. But should these be our bottom-line motivations for getting married? Companionship is certainly important, but what happens when our “companion” is no longer such a joy to be with? What happens when we come face to face with their character defects and their struggles? What happens when we discover that they have needs that are extremely difficult for us to meet? And if having children is our motivation, what about married couples who are unable to have children? And for those couples who do have them, what happens when they grow up? We’ve all heard of the empty nest syndrome. Is the marriage over at that point, and if not, what’s left of it if raising children has been the primary motivation?
I believe that my rabbi’s seemingly strange and out-of-place question was meant to reveal a deeper answer to this question; one that actually comes straight out of this week’s Torah portion, Beraishit. As we start the Torah anew this week, in the very first chapters we read about the creation of heaven and earth, planets, plants and animals. But we also learn about the creation of Man, Woman, and the very first marriage as well.
But what’s perhaps most interesting about the story of the first marriage is that we’re actually given the reason for marriage in the first place. According to the Torah’s narrative, Man had already been created, placed in the garden, and given his assignment. The stage had been set, the actor was in place and the drama was about to unfold. It seemed as though nothing was missing, and yet at that very moment God made a statement that seemed to turn the entire project on its head.
“It’s not good for Man to be alone.”
As a result of these five (Hebrew) words, we are told, Woman was created and the institution of marriage was established for the first couple and for all future generations as well. And yet when we reflect a little deeper, it’s not at all obvious what God’s dilemma was to begin with. Why was it such a problem for Man to be alone? And if it was a problem, why not simply create a man who doesn’t get lonely?
The answer, I believe, is because the problem was never loneliness. The problem was that Man without Woman would have been nothing more than a bachur; which is to say not simply an unmarried guy, but rather someone who doesn’t know that anyone exists in the world besides himself. He would, in fact, have been truly alone. And since Man was created and placed in the world so that he could connect with something beyond himself, without Woman and the institution of marriage, he could not possibly fulfill his purpose. This is why it’s not good for Man to be alone, and according to the Torah, this is why we get married.
Which means, if our understanding of the Torah’s narrative is correct, marriage is ultimately not about companionship, or children, or legal status or financial stability. Marriage is about growth. In fact, if utilized properly, it’s the single greatest growth opportunity we will ever have, in as much as it offers us the best chance to grow into an other-centered, as opposed to a self-centered human being.
Being self- centered comes naturally to us. We’ve all had the experience of driving through traffic and thinking: “what are all these cars doing in my way! Don’t they know that I’ve got to get somewhere?” Yes, of course we know that they have to get somewhere too. But our knowledge of other people’s needs doesn’t necessarily make them real to us. Regardless of what we “know,” at the end of the day, our lives are real; theirs are theoretical. That’s just the way we’re built. But that’s not the way we have to remain. And that’s the opportunity that marriage presents; the commitment of marriage offers us nothing less than an opportunity to truly appreciate that someone else’s life is as real as our own.
I have no doubt that our marriages are meant to provide us with a source of peace, joy, companionship and meaningful accomplishment. But we must never lose sight of the fact that first and foremost, they meant to help us grow as human beings. Growth doesn’t mean torture, but it’s generally not that easy either, which is why I tell my single friends: “If you don’t want to grow, don’t get married. Stay single!” Of course single people have plenty of opportunities to grow too. But I would say that being single definitely tends to be easier. True, at times it might be lonelier, but let’s face it, finding the mustard on the third shelf in the refrigerator, exactly where you left it, isn’t bad either.
Proper expectations may not guarantee a successful marriage, but they go a long way towards setting the proper tone. If we’re expecting a rose garden, or a life filled with witty conversation as we stroll along the beach at sunset, we’re setting ourselves up for a big surprise once reality sets in, which is why I believe so many marriages head south once the real problems and challenges begin to show up. But if we understand that marriage is about growth, and we understand that the growth comes from our commitment to love and nurture our spouse in spite of their warts and imperfections – i.e. – that it’s essentially an internal, not an external issue - then we realize that the appearance of difficulties and challenges hardly heralds the imminent demise of our relationship. In fact, if anything we realize the relationship, and more importantly, the growth opportunities that it presents, are just beginning. |
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