Ketubot 63: Home Sweet Home

In our last post we discussed the challenge of balancing work and family obligations. The Mishnah that discusses the length of a "business trip" the husband may take also teaches, "the students may leave for the study of Torah without permission for thirty days" (Ketubot 61b). What the Mishnah does not explain is exactly how often they may leave home for such study.

"Rav said, one month here [in the Beit Midrash] and one month at home...Rav Yochanan said, one month here and two months at home" (Ketubot 62a). The value our Sages placed on Torah study can be seen in Rav's disagreement with Rav Yochanan. The latter had based his view on Shlomo Hamelech's conscription of 30,000 workers for building the Temple, with monthly shifts involving 10,000 workers. This is no model for Torah study, Rav argues, as "building the Temple is different, it can be done by others". This view is rooted in the beautiful teaching of our Sages that "we do not interrupt the study of the children even for the purpose of the building of the Temple" (Shabbat 119b). We can live without a Temple, but Torah study is our lifeblood. 

With the emphasis our tradition places on Torah study, it should not be surprising that there were those who sought to increase the time available for study. While being away from home for thirty days is quite a long period of time, from the perspective of time needed to develop into a Torah scholar it is quite a short one--even if done every other month.  

"Rav Adda the son of Ahava said: This [that students may depart for thirty days] is the view of Rabbi Eliezer; however, the Sages say the students can leave for the study of Torah for two or three years without permission" (Ketubot 62b). 

Yet such an approach is most risky and, in the vast majority of cases, is to be shunned. The Gemara notes the cryptic teaching of Rava that "the rabbis relied on Rav Adda bar Ahava at the cost of their lives". As Rashi explains, these Sages were punished for leaving their wives for such extended periods--pious intentions notwithstanding. 

When Rav Ruchami was so engrossed in his learning that he forgot to come home for his annual visit--on Yom Kippur, no less--the tears of his wife "caused" Rav Ruchami to fall from his rooftop and die[1]. Demonstrating their disapproval of such study, the Gemara immediately thereafter quotes the halacha that a Torah scholar must perform his marital duties "from Friday night to Friday night".

The Gemara continues with stories of the tragic effects of ignoring this ruling. "Yehuda, the son of Rav Chiya and son-in-law of Rav Yanai, would go and sit in the Beit Midrash and return home on Friday eve". When on one occasion, he was so engrossed in learning he did not make it home, he died (instead). 

The pull of Torah is a most powerful one. Rebbe's son left home to study for twelve years, and in the interim his wife became sterile. Rabbi Chaninah, after twelve years of study, had become so unaware of the construction in his city that he "did not know the way to his home".  This reflects a physical reality but, more importantly, a metaphysical one. His house was no longer his home. When he managed to stumble into his home, the shock was such that his wife had a heart attack. 

Rav Chama, when he returned from the Beit Midrash after twelve years, hoped to avoid a similar shock to his wife; so he sent a messenger to inform his wife of his impending arrival back home. While he was waiting, he sat in the local Beit Midrash and did not recognize his own son, who sat next to him! Entering into a conversation with this "stranger", he marveled at his sharpness and lamented that "if I had stayed home [and taught my children Torah], I, too, could have had children like this". Even sadder, when he came home with his still unrecognized son, he stood before his son in respect of his learning. Despite his wife's comment "Does a father stand before a son?", Rami bar Chama just quoted the verse that "a threefold cord (three generations) of learning is not easily broken". 

Of course, every rule has an exception, one embodied in the case of Rachel and Rabbi Akiva. He, too, went away for 12 years to study, and not only did his wife not feel neglected, she told her neighbour who asked, "How long will you live like a widow?" that "If it was up to me, he would sit [and learn] for twelve more years", something Rabbi Akiva promptly did. He returned after these twenty-four years as the greatest scholar of his (and many other) times. Such success was possible only because of the unique qualities he possessed and, even more importantly, that his wife possessed: "What is mine and what is yours is hers" (Ketubot 63a). 

It is understandable, but tragic nonetheless, that budding scholars' love of Torah may cause them to neglect all else. Better is the approach of Ben Azzai who, when criticized for neglecting to marry and have children[2], responded, "What can I do that my soul is in love with the Torah? The world can be carried on by others" (Yevamot 63b). While this approach is not ideal, for Ben Azzai it was the correct one, "and there is no sin in his hand" (see here). Yet better still is the approach of many great Torah scholars over the generations who excelled both in learning and as husbands and fathers.