Chayei Sarah: Is it Acceptable to Test Your Dates?

Rabbi Daniel Z. Feldman

The test that Eliezer devised to discover a proper match for Isaac must be considered one of the most successful creative strategies of all history (Gen.ch. 24). Charged by the first founding father of the Jewish people, Abraham, with finding a match for the second, Yitzchak, Eliezer prays to God for a “chesed” that his mission will be successful based on the following plan: Having travelled to the area of Abraham’s family, he will wait by the wells that provide water to the locals; when the women come out to draw water, he will approach one and ask to be given water; one who not only provides water for him, but also offers to give water to his camels, will show herself to be the appropriate match. Apparently granted the Divine assistance he requested, Eliezer’s plan introduces him to Rebecca, an exquisitely qualified candidate who becomes one of the matriarchs of the Jewish people and thus a key builder of the moral and spiritual foundation of the Chosen People.  

So, does this mean that Eliezer has found a successful model for the generations? Should contemporary Jews put their dates through tests to see if they are the match they are looking for?

There is a literature regarding the overall question of putting people through tests in other contexts. For example, the issue of testing employees was taken up by R. Yechiel Yaakov Weinberg in his Responsa Seridei Eish (I, OC, 57:2). He considered the question of an employer who wanted to ascertain whether or not his worker was honest, and therefore left a large sum of money in his presence, and waited to see if he would steal it. Rabbi Weinberg cited in this regard a Talmudic passage (Bava Metzia 75b) that seems to explicitly forbid such a tactic, due to the biblical injunction of “do not place this stumbling block in front of the blind”, or lifnei iver, which the Rabbis explain has a spiritual dimension that prohibits enabling or causing others to regress. More specifically, the Talmud applies this to one who would lend money without witnesses, because, as Rashi explains, the borrower will immediately realize that he can later deny having taken the loan and keep the money. Apparently, even the enabling of the plotting of the theft, regardless of whether or not it actually takes place, constitutes a violation of this prohibition.

However, one complicating source is another Talmudic passage (Kiddushin 32a), which also discusses the lifnei iver injunction. In this one, testing is the context. Rav Huna wanted to confirm that his son was properly respectful. To find out, he tore up silk in front of him to gauge his reaction. The Talmud poses the question: what if indeed he had responded disrespectfully? Wouldn't that have placed Rav Huna in violation of lifnei iver? We are then told that he had preemptively waived his honor in this case, and thus removed the possibility of a transgression on the part of either of them.

The Tosafot, however, are unsatisfied with this answer. Wouldn't it be bad enough that the son would think that he was doing something wrong, which, the Rabbis teach, also stains the soul? They suggest in response that the son must have been informed in advance that the father had waived his honor. If so, one wonders just how effective an experiment this could have been (see Resp. Chatam Sofer, YD, 229).

Notably, the Ritva asks the same question and answers differently. He suggests that the lifnei iverconcern here is minor compared to the benefits, which would have been to identify weaknesses in the son's development and thereby correct them. R. Shmuel Wosner (Resp. Shevet HaLevi, II,101:5) found this approach unsatisfactory, as even if one were to minimize the lifnei iver factor, the concern at hand is the violation of parental respect, which is being transgressed in spirit, even if it had been technically accounted for.

However, there is another issue at stake besides violating the prohibition of disrespecting one's parents. As the passage explicitly mentions, there was the possibility that the son would become enraged. Losing one's temper is quite possibly considered its own prohibition, and is compared to idolatry (see Hil. Deot 2:3). At a minimum, it is a character flaw. Are we to assume that the lifnei Iver prohibition does not cover shortcomings of character?

The Chida (Birkei Yosef YD 240:13) poses this question and offers that perhaps Rav Huna was was confident that his son would not get angry enough to reach a level deserving of such condemnation.

The lifnei iver question is particularly relevant given that many authorities felt that there is a prohibition connected with character deficiencies. Indeed, Maimonides rules that one is obligated to repent for such shortcomings. As such, it must be considered whether lifnei iver applies to character violations as well.

In this vein, R. Yitzchak Zilberstein (Chashukei Chemed to Kiddushin) considers the question of a business owner who wishes to see if applicants for a position will treat customers with patience. To accomplish this, he set up a test. He invited twenty applicants to come for an interview but intentionally kept them waiting for about two hours. During that time, he planted a confederate who was capable of acting like a “nudnik”  with the express goal of annoying them, while the boss himself observed through a hidden camera to see how each would react.

As a result of this ordeal, most of the applicants indeed lost their composure, with one exception. That worthy individual was granted the job on the spot. All the other applicants reacted angrily, asserting that he had arrived last. At that point, the boss emerged and explained that while they thought the interview had not yet begun, it had been taking place all along. The main qualification for the job was patience, and they had all exposed themselves as unworthy. Was it permissible for him to provoke anger in all of these applicants in order to test their qualifications?

The Resp.Torah L’Shemah (#370) discusses the general question of whether somebody who causes another to get angry is in violation of lifnei iver, and adduces a proof from Rav Huna that it is not. Notably, the questioner seems to be discussing asking about something less than this - one who is not intentionally angering the other, but pursuing other purposes with his behavior; he remarks that a prohibition here would make normal daily interaction impossible. It would seem that intentional provocation would be in a different category.

Rabbi Eliezer Papo, author of the Pela Yoetz, asserts in a few places in his writings (Orot Eilim, Eiruvin 18b, Ya’alozo Chasidim 15) that there is a prohibition of lifne iver regarding character traits, while Rabbi Yisrael Salanter, who was famous for founding the Mussar movement that focused on character development, is quoted by R. Chaim Kanievsky as saying that the prohibition does not apply to character traits (Derekh Tzlechah, page 369). That may seem surprising coming from one who directed so much attention in this area. One suggestion is that the character traits are already present in the individual, and all the other person can do is provoke a manifestation of what is there, not cause them to exist. However, this is difficult to say, particularly regarding anger, as the Talmud does convey condemnation specifically of expressions of rage.

Beyond the technicalities, there is the simple golden rule. It is a fair assumption that no one would appreciate being put in a position where their worst attributes are being provoked to emerge.

However, perhaps it should be maintained that Eliezer's actions were in a different category and could indeed be a model for contemporary daters. The above discussions involved trying to test for negative qualities and behaviors. In that context, fears of lifnei iver,entrapment, and unfair treatment of others are present. Eliezer, by contrast, was looking for unusual positive behavior. Those who did not pass the test were none the wiser and suffered no embarrassment or negative consequences. Can it be said, then, that Eliezer's plan was impeccable and to be recommended without hesitation?

Not necessarily. It may come as a surprise to learn that the Rabbis seem to maintain a somewhat critical attitude towards Eliezer’s methods, as expressed in at least two Talmudic statements. (It should be noted, however, that some statements in rabbinic literature are more positively inclined toward Eliezer’s plan; see, for example, Kallah Rabati, end of ch. 3). In one (Ta’anit 4a; see also Bereishit Rabbah 60:3), Eliezer is described as one who asked “improperly” (bikesh she-lo ke-hogen), and was nonetheless answered “properly”.

More striking is a second passage (Chullin 95b) which appears to allege a halakhic violation. In discussing the prohibition of neichush (Lev. 19:26.), which might loosely be translated as superstitious behavior, the Talmud asserts, in the name of Rav, the following standard: “Any ‘nachash’ that is not as Eliezer the servant of Avraham … is not nachash”.  In other words, it seems that Eliezer’s behavior serves as the baseline to determine when one is in violation of this Biblical prohibition. 

This assertion is shocking. The nature of the objection to superstition is that it is irrational, and involves living one’s life based on meaningless signs. No one would maintain that one cannot make decisions based on rational, relevant factors; that is the essence of intelligent living. In the case of Eliezer, he was seeking, most appropriately, a paragon of kindness, of chesed. Accordingly, he devised a rational test to identify one who would act in a manner displaying chesed. How could that plan be considered in any way connected to the transgression of neichush?

This issue underlies a primary debate. Maimonides (Hilkhot Avodat Kokhavim 11:4.), in delineating the prohibition, gives several examples of proscribed practice, and closes with the words, “…like Eliezer the servant of Avraham – and so too all things like this are prohibited…”. The Ra’avad takes sharp issue with this formulation, maintaining that Eliezer’s behavior was permissible, that questioning it is unthinkable, and that Maimonides was confused by the Talmud’s choice of language.

Indeed, other authorities maintain that Eliezer was innocent of any sin in this case. Rather, these views, represented by the Ran, assert that the Talmud invokes Eliezer not to allege any impropriety, but to focus on one isolated detail: Eliezer’s absolute commitment to his test. Indeed, Eliezer’s test was a rational one, not at all subject to the prohibition. However, if one is utilizing an irrational indicator, he would violate neichush if he relied on this sign with a commitment equal to that of Eliezer to his permissible test.

Thus, it emerges from the Talmud that in order to violate neichush, two conditions must be present: a) the basis for the decision must be irrational, and not actually relevant to the issues involved; b) the decision must be made as a result of complete commitment to the irrational sign, and not be the result of a combination of factors. Apparently, according to the second view in the, the relevance of Eliezer is only to condition (b); as his condition was rational, it is instructive only in its level of commitment. It remains somewhat startling then, that Eliezer, acting rationally and innocently, should be held up as a negative role model.

While this second view exonerates Eliezer of any guilt, perhaps it might nonetheless be suggested that the tinge of disapproval exhibited by the Rabbis is rooted in this very approach.   

True, it was rational and appropriate for Eliezer to devise a test to ascertain if Rebecca was a person of chesed. Where the test merited criticism, however, was in its absolute quality – the assumption that if Rebecca passed, she was a person of chesed, and if she didn’t, she wasn’t (it should be noted that not all commentaries agree with the underlying assumptions here of the facts of the narrative). In other words, the test assumed a perfect correlation between an attribute and an action. While clearly a relationship between the two must exist, it is not the case that an action always accurately displays the attribute from which it is assumed to emanate. The observer might misjudge the source of a discrete action or inaction; or it may simply not be representative, colored by some other factor of which the observer is unaware. A kind person may not help out a person in need because of preoccupation or justifiable distraction; while an unkind person may help because of an ulterior, selfish motive.

The automatic linking of attribute and action is the source of much of human conflict: “if he was a really nice guy, he would do what I need”; “if she really loved me, she wouldn’t do such and such”. All too often, the interpretation is artificial or incomplete, and the other party forms a completely inaccurate impression. This is related to what is now identified by psychologists as the “fundamental attribution error”, a reference to the human tendency to see the actions of others as wholly representative of their character, while the one evaluating readily minimizes such interpretations when applied to his own actions.  If he fails to do the “kind” thing, he is unkind; if I fail to do that same thing, I am generally kind but at the moment attending to other priorities.

It might be suggested that this tendency is one reason for the prohibition of lashon hara¸ which forbids the relating of derogatory information, even when it is true.   Unfortunately, human nature is such that it is very difficult not to form a character judgment after hearing of an incident that, while factually true, may be isolated or otherwise unrepresentative. As such, we are required to refrain from relating such facts, as their technical accuracy do not prevent the violation of "do not bear [or transmit] a false report (Ex 23:2; see Pesachim 118a)."

It seems, then, that the tests we devise, even if they do not trigger negative qualities, may still be misleading in very harmful ways that are all too easy to miss.

The question then becomes, if Eliezer indeed acted improperly in his request, why was he so gloriously successful? Why did God reward an unseemly request with a perfect response?

Perhaps this was one instance where the test specifically asked for an absolute correlation, for a quality that expressed itself constantly, without exception. As Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik (Abraham’s Journey pp. 195-196):

“What key virtue did the members of this household possess that made them fit for and worthy of joining the covenant? The answer is hesed, kindness expressed through hakhnasat orechim, hospitality…hakhnasat orechim may have its source in one of two human qualities: either genuine kindness or civility and courtesy. A polite person quite often conveys the impression of being charitable and good, but inwardly he is completely indifferent and detached. The act of the polite person is related to an etiquette, the act of the kind person to an ethic.

“The criterion that enables us to distinguish between politeness and kindness is quite obvious. The element of perseverance and patience is to be found in the kind person but not in the merely polite person. The kind person has unlimited patience. The needy may call on a kind person for help over a long period of time, for years and years.  The appeal will always be heard and acted upon. The polite person’s patience is limited. If repeatedly approached, he will stop extending help. Any illogical plea for help, any exaggeration or crossing the borderline of decency, will be harshly rejected and condemned if the helper is merely acting in accordance with etiquette. But in the case of kindness, there is no limit to the benefactor’s perseverance and tolerance. He helps even people who are vulgar and coarse. He takes abuse. Nothing can alienate him from the person in need.

“Eliezer wanted to find out what motivated Rebecca’s actions. Was it spiritual nobility and kindness, or good manners and civility? He asked her to do things that were outrageous. He said, “Let me sip a little water from your pitcher”. (Gen. 24:17), as opposed to asking her to hand him the pitcher. In other words, he told her that he would do nothing; she was to draw water from the well and pour it into his mouth. Isn’t this distasteful and tasteless? Had she just been polite, she would have splashed the water in his face. Why did he ask a young girl to water the camels, something women did not do in antiquity? Couldn’t one of his servants have taken the pitcher down to the well, brought up the water, and taken care of the animals?

“The answer is that Eliezer was testing her patience. She passed the test with flying colors. She did not feel hurt; she was not repulsed by the newcomer’s primitive bluntness and lack of good manners. She practiced hospitality even though the traveler was coarse and rude. The quality of erekh appayim prevailed, and Rebecca became the mother of the nation.” 

Rav Soloveitchik’s comments appear to be stating that the test was not just for chesed in any basic sense, but specifically in an absolute sense; that only one who would express kindness without exception and in all circumstances would qualify. As such, it is understandable that actions could, in this unusual case, be equated absolutely with attributes; the unique demand of the situation called for it. Further, it seems that the very nature of Rebecca’s chesed was itself one of transcending the “action-based judgment” toward others.

Without a doubt, Rebecca’s behavior is extraordinary, and can hardly represent the expectation placed upon the average person. Nonetheless, perhaps there is a valuable lesson to be learned from this episode for all human relationships, marriage and otherwise. This lesson is the benefit of living life by a double standard: when evaluating others’ actions, one should recognize the frequent lack of correlation between these actions and their actual attributes; understand that they can be kind people even if not always displaying the actions we would identify with kindness. When one is considering one’s own actions, however, one should act with the opposite mentality, recognizing that one’s own positive attributes are often only perceived by others through the actions that usually display them; accordingly, one would try to manifest his quality of chesed (for example) as unilaterally and absolutely as possible. In other words, harmony is best served by attitudes that are the reverse of the more instinctive “fundamental attribution error”.

Indeed, this approach, this “double standard”, is far from instinctive. To separate the behavior that we see from the sweeping evaluations that we are inclined to make is profoundly challenging. Likewise, to strive to avoid relying on exceptions in our own actions – to express positive traits as consistently as possible, regardless of the circumstances – requires a discipline and a commitment evocative of our foremother Rebecca. Nonetheless, it is a test worth taking on.