Jews, Christians, and Muslims from the Ancient to the Modern World

Jewish Family Life in Medieval Europe

Elisheva Baumgarten

• Publisher: Princeton University Press
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9781400849260
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: European Medieval History
• Index: History

This book presents a synthetic history of the family--the most basic building block of medieval Jewish communities--in Germany and northern France during the High Middle Ages. Concentrating on the special roles of mothers and children, it also advances recent efforts to write a comparative Jewish-Christian social history.
Elisheva Baumgarten draws on a rich trove of primary sources to give a full portrait of medieval Jewish family life during the period of childhood from birth to the beginning of formal education at age seven. Illustrating the importance of understanding Jewish practice in the context of Christian society and recognizing the shared foundations in both societies, Baumgarten's examination of Jewish and Christian practices and attitudes is explicitly comparative. Her analysis is also wideranging, covering nearly every aspect of home life and childrearing, including pregnancy, midwifery, birth and initiation rituals, nursing, sterility, infanticide, remarriage, attitudes toward mothers and fathers, gender hierarchies, divorce, widowhood, early education, and the place of children in the home, synagogue, and community.
A richly detailed and deeply researched contribution to our understanding of the relationship between Jews and their non-Jewish neighbors, Mothers and Children provides a key analysis of the history of Jewish families in medieval Ashkenaz.

Chapter One

BIRTH

For the first three months the embryo dwells in the lower compartment; the next three months in the middle compartment; and the final three months in the upper compartment. For the first three days, one should pray to God that the infant won’t decompose; from three to forty days he should pray that it will be a male; from forty days to three months, he should pray that it not be a sandal;¹ and from three months to six months, he should pray that it not be stillborn; and from six to nine months he should pray that the baby will be born safely. And can a man bring the baby out safely? No, rather the Holy One, blessed be He creates for the infant doors and hinges and brings him out safely.

—Midrash Yeẓirat haValad

THE MIDRASH’S DESCRIPTION of the creation of the fetus was a popular one in the Middle Ages. It outlines the stages of pregnancy and birth and provides explanations of the process. But the story of parents and children begins long before men and women become fathers and mothers. This chapter will focus on the conceptual and practical aspects of birth in the medieval Jewish communities of Ashkenaz. Most research on birth has concentrated on the history of ideas on procreation, with little attention devoted to the more practical and day-to-day aspects of birth.² The most common issues concerning birth, as discussed in previous research, are outlined in the Midrash that opens this chapter. The Midrash designates three persons: God, who is responsible for the creation of the embryo; the father, who prays for the baby throughout the pregnancy; and the baby itself. A fourth figure in this Midrash, though never mentioned by name, is the mother, who carries the baby in her womb and gives birth to him. While this chapter will discuss all four persons, I will devote most of my attention to the mother, who has received the least consideration to date.

The chapter will be divided into three interrelated parts. The first deals with medieval Jewish understandings of the biological experience of birth, as well as religious understandings and beliefs concerning birth. I will then discuss how these beliefs and understandings were expressed in the context of fertility and infertility. Finally, I will examine the extant evidence on birth practices in medieval society. The distinctions between these three sets of issues are somewhat artificial, and, insofar as they are interrelated, I will identify the connections. These artificial distinctions do, however, facilitate a more balanced gender analysis of birth. Most intellectual history approaches to procreation have been circumscribed by the textual material, which reflects the thoughts of the men who wrote them, whereas analyses of the social functions of birth have devoted far more attention to women.³ In the context of medieval Ashkenazic Jewry, neither of these analyses has been undertaken in previous research, and as such, this chapter will provide analyses of attitudes toward procreation and of the social history of birth.

We should note at the outset that the study of birth, as scholars, and especially feminist scholars have shown, is complex. While it is relatively easy to ascertain what medieval people thought about God’s role or the role of men in procreation, revealing the roles of women, beyond the bare fact that they bore children, is a difficult task. Although birth was women’s business and only women attended births, it is very difficult for scholars to gain access to the birthing chamber and other arenas in which women may be found. Furthermore, the male expectations and social orders, ever present outside the birthing chamber, undoubtedly filtered into that female space as well. Thus, the study of birth is actually the study of “the intercourse of birth with patriarchy.”⁴

PROCREATION AND ITS SIGNIFICANCES

Medieval Understandings of the “Nature” of Women

Feminist scholarship, since its beginnings, has devoted extensive energy in the attempt to define and identify female spheres and characteristics. While feminist categories have been enthusiastically adopted by some scholars, others have avoided them as overly essentialist. All agree, however, on the significance of women’s ability to give birth. As the anthropologist Helen Callaway remarked, birth is “the most essentially female function of all.” Gender methodologies have attempted to shift the weight from the biological function of giving birth to the role of culture in defining the birth process. This is the course we will follow.⁵

Medieval society assumed that giving birth and being a mother was an inherent feature of female identity. Exactly how this inherency was understood, is, however a matter of great interest. Women in medieval Jewish society, as in all premodern patriarchal societies, bore secondary status. They were expected to serve their husbands in many ways; giving birth to children, especially male children, was just one of them. In addition, in medieval times women were educated to be mothers. In medieval Jewish society, as in its Christian counterpart, motherhood was one of the central aims of female education.⁶ Although the expectations fostered by such education became relevant when the girls reached sexual maturity, the education of girls as future mothers began from a very young age.

Jewish sources speak of the centrality of birth and motherhood for a woman’s identity in several contexts. Although they never systematically discussed women’s ability to give birth or the expectations of women, we do find pertinent information in discussions of sterility and barrenness. Descriptions of barren women emphasize their profound sorrow and grief and put forth the belief that the happy woman, the woman who has realized her true potential, is the woman with children. This idea is clearly expressed in commentaries on piyutim (liturgical poems) and on the Bible, especially with respect to Sarah, Rebecca, and Rachel, who are all described as suffering from barrenness prior to the births of their sons. In a thirteenth-century commentary on the piyut Ta’alat zu keḥafeẓ for the New Year (Rosh haShana), Rebecca is described as an asura, a prisoner, until she finally gives birth. The commentator explains that barren women are like prisoners in their homes; only once God grants them the long-awaited and coveted sons may they walk around proudly. The text continues, discussing the stress on marital relations posed by barrenness in the case of Rebecca and Isaac. It claims that Isaac was also an asur (prisoner) because of Rebecca’s barrenness. Quoting the verse from Gen. 25:21, “Isaac pleaded with the Lord on behalf of his wife because she was barren,” the commentator remarks: “‘And Isaac pleaded with the Lord on behalf of his wife’: they argued with each other and Isaac said to her ‘you are barren’ and she replied to him, ‘you are barren.’ ”⁷ In the discussion that follows, although both Isaac and Rebecca are described as suffering as a result of their childlessness, Rebecca is seen as the more miserable of the two.

Many later sources repeat the anguished plea of another biblical matriarch, Rachel, concerning her barrenness. Her cry: “Give me children or I shall die” (Gen. 30:1) becomes the staple plea of barren women. A medieval commentary on the Kalir’s piyut for Rosh haShanah “Even ḥug maẓok neshiya” explains the line: “Ke’akeret bayit bateḥal nukra” (As a housewife at the beginning she was alienated), explaining:

At the beginning she was alienated from giving birth, from being a housewife; “Rachel was barren”—she was alienated. But in the end, as in the days of the ripening of her first fruits, like a fig at its beginning, “she gave birth to Joseph”—which is the purpose (takhlit) of all mothers.⁸

A number of issues are expressed here. The commentator is playing with the multiple etymologies of the verb akar: akara (barren) and akeret bayit (housewife), and the word ikar (the center or main part). Rachel was barren so she could not be an akeret bayit. When she gave birth to Joseph, she was fulfilling the purpose (ikar) of her womanhood by becoming a mother.

Another compelling example can be found in R. Judah the Pious’s (1150–1217) commentary on Genesis. He explains the phrase “Sarah’s lifetimes” (Gen. 23:1)⁹ as meaning that Sarah had two lifetimes—one before she gave birth and one afterward. He explains that her real life began only after she had offspring, since a woman without children is like a dead person.¹⁰ While sources provide some expressions of the sorrow of men without offspring, as when it is said that a man without children is like a dead person,¹¹ it is more common and more categorical in discussions on women. In the Biblical examples above and frequently used in medieval literature, while the husbands of the barren women are surely not pleased with their situations, their wives are distraught.

The idea that the fertile wife is the happy and good wife appears not only in theoretical discussions of happiness or barrenness but also in practical advice on how to choose a wife. Sefer Ḥasidim contains a few directives on the topic. Aside from the religious attributes one should seek in searching for a spouse, the author says that it is important to make sure that the chosen woman will be able to give birth. He suggests: “And one should check the woman because most daughters take after their mothers. If their mother miscarries so will her daughter. Therefore one should pray that God grant him a woman of middot [good qualities].”¹² Note that here, the good quality mentioned is not a spiritual attribute, but rather the woman’s physical ability to bear children. Once again, this demonstrates that, at least when dealing with women, the distinctions between what we today would consider biological or physical, as opposed to cultural attributes, were blurred.

This idea is repeated in an additional comment in Sefer Ḥasidim. There, the author explains that men should love and show affection to their wives because of their wives’ ability to bear children, even in cases in which much love does not exist between the couple.¹³ He bases his explanation on Jacob’s relationship with Leah and explains that Leah justifiably expected Jacob to love her after she gave birth to his children (Gen. 29:32), and as a result, all men, even those who do not love their wives ahava shebalev (with their hearts), should show affection to their wives because of the children they bear. In short, according to the men whose writings have reached us, women were expected to have children, and this was their purpose and goal. As will be seen throughout this book, women’s cultural role included not only giving birth, but all the tasks linked to having and caring for young children.

Jews and Christians: Attitudes toward Reproduction

These cultural understandings of male and female reproductive “nature” become more complex when different religious beliefs emphasize different aspects of them. Such is the case with Jewish and Christian attitudes toward reproduction. The disparity between Jewish and Christian attitudes is well known and has been the root of many debates over the centuries. While Jews saw the commandment to procreate—“pru urvu” (be fertile and increase) (Gen. 1:28)—as an important foundation of Jewish belief, Christians did not. Many scholars have referred to this distinction as limiting the possibilities for comparison between Jewish and Christian family life, and as justification for studying each society separately.¹⁴ Even scholars who have examined Jewish and Christian family institutions in tandem have emphasized the theological gap that exists in this context.¹⁵

The Christian preference for celibacy was central from its beginnings.¹⁶ Indeed, most of the extant medieval records dealing with attitudes toward procreation were written by the same small and select group that chose celibacy as its way of life. Men who lived in monastic frameworks understood their choice as an expression of their ability to refrain from worldly pleasures and remain pure. Women who chose to be nuns viewed their celibacy, especially if they were virgins, as a ticket to the male spiritual environment and an escape from their fate as women.¹⁷ Yet despite the many references to these men and women in medieval literature, we must remember that this was not the majority choice. Most Christians throughout the ages were married, not celibate.

Because they esteemed the ideal of celibacy, Christian society treated married life as the less ideal choice. Nevertheless, in their discussions of noncelibate married women, the medieval authors resembled their Jewish peers. The cultural significance of women as childbearers is also evident in these authors’ descriptions of women who forewent motherhood to become brides of Christ. As a number of scholars, especially Caroline Bynum, have shown, images of birth and of maternity are prominent in descriptions of all women, including those who do not actually give birth.¹⁸

Jews, as is well known, did not share this attitude toward celibacy. While only few Christians actually chose the monastic way of life, all saw this as an ideal, albeit one that posed too big a challenge for most. In contrast, all Jews saw procreation as an obligatory and positive commandment. Jewish and Christian attitudes toward the biblical commandment of procreation from antiquity through the Middle Ages have been examined in a recent study by Jeremy Cohen. Cohen examined Jewish and Christian attitudes toward the biblical command. His study altered the prevailing tendency to present Jewish and Christian attitudes as completely distinct. Cohen emphasized that in spite of their fundamental difference, there were also areas of similarity. For example, Cohen maintained that despite the ideal of celibacy, some Christian scholars included procreation as part of the ius naturalis (natural order). In other words, pr...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication Page
• Contents
• Illustrations
• Acknowledgments
• Abbreviations
• Introduction
• Chapter One. Birth
• Chapter Two. Circumcision and Baptism
• Chapter Three. Additional Birth Rituals
• Chapter Four. Maternal Nursing and Wet Nurses: Feeding and Caring for Infants
• Chapter Five. Parents and Children: Competing Values
• Conclusions
• Notes
• Glossary
• Bibliography
• Index