It is most often the case that the weeks preceding a bar or bat mitzvah are filled with excitement and anxious anticipation. Many months of preparation and the coming together of family and friends, all serve to make the moment very sweet.

But sometimes one lifecycle event stands out. About fourteen years ago, the bat mitzvah was bright, enthusiastic, full of life; the precocious younger brother, a talented actor, had a gleam in his eye. The father… well, he was in prison serving a lengthy sentence for having murdered the bat mitzvah’s mother several years before. A lengthy, ugly divorce had ended in the bathroom, with a hammer, as the children cowered down the hall.

With a few weeks to go, we received a letter from the father, indicating he was petitioning the state to be given a one-day pass in order to be present at his daughter’s bat mitzvah. We faced an ethical decision: would we allow the father the honor of blessing the Torah? You might imagine the daughter would have vetoed the request, but as it happens, the children had an ongoing relationship with their father. Of more concern was the potential reaction of the congregation, which had been traumatized by the event. Luckily, the state decided for us; the father was not allowed to leave prison. But I’ve never forgotten the terror of facing that decision. What would you have done?

The events surrounding that bat mitzvah disabused me of the following set of assumptions:

• That domestic abuse, like substance abuse isn’t found in Jewish homes;
• That Jewish husbands cherish their wives, they don’t belittle or beat them;
• That Jewish homes always exemplify the value of “Shalom Bayit”, which means “peace and tranquility in the home.”

I now know differently.

• I now know Shalom Bayit can be, at times, only skin deep, masking beneath it relationships that are corrosive and damaging.
• I now know domestic abuse occurs at levels comparable to that in the general community.
• I now know violence is only one point on the spectrum of domestic abuse, a spectrum that includes emotional, psychological and economic dimensions, as well.

And I now know that, in one way, Jews are not like everyone else. To a degree higher than others, we are affected by the “shandeh” factor. Shandeh is the Yiddish word for shame. The shame and embarrassment Jews attach to domestic abuse is so pronounced that, on average, Jewish women stay in abusive relationships five to seven years longer than women in the general population.

What a tragedy. Looking back to that bat mitzvah fourteen year ago, I wonder: who, outside of the immediate family, knew what was going on in that house? Did anyone try to intervene? What resources might have been brought to bear? How quickly did matters move from harsh words to harsh actions? Ultimately, could the violence that took the mother’s life have been prevented?

This morning, I want to speak about Shalom Bayit, not in its classic meaning of peace in the home, but rather as a veneer of silence that can mask real trouble; to share some myths and facts about domestic abuse; and last, to explore what we can and should do when we or someone we know is an abusive relationship. While we’d like to assume otherwise, odds are someone we know is the victim of abuse. And in this case, we truly are our brothers’ and sisters’ keeper.

We begin with today and tomorrow’s Torah portions, which, between them, chart the disintegration of Abraham and Sarah’s home. Listen closely. How many instances of domestic abuse can you count?

Initially, Abraham and Sarah are the very model of antediluvian domesticity. When three guests arrive unexpectedly, Abraham and Sarah are gracious hosts, welcoming the guests and preparing a lavish feast. Before the guests leave, one tells Sarah that she will soon give birth to a son. She laughs at the news. At ninety years of age, Sarah doesn’t expect to become pregnant. What’s more, Sarah’s handmaiden, Hagar, had already produced a son for Abraham, named Ishmael.

The baby Isaac’s arrival complicates the already tense atmosphere. When Sarah realizes that her son is second in line after Hagar’s, she confronts Abraham and orders him to expel Ishmael and Hagar from the home. Without protest, Abraham sends the mother and son out into the desert. Only God’s intervention saves them from dehydration and death.

From there, things only get worse. Abraham soon hears God’s demand that he take Isaac to the top of Mt Moriah to sacrifice him there. In order to avoid Sarah’s questions, Abraham wakes up early the next day, saddles his donkey and leaves with Isaac.

We don’t know what Sarah’s reaction was when she awoke to find her husband and son missing. Does she know that Abraham took Isaac to be sacrificed? Did she learn that an angel interceded at the last moment? We don’t know. We only know that when Abraham returns a few days later, Sarah was dead. Could she have died from a broken heart?

Indeed, the story of Abraham and Sarah’s family has no happy ending. After the abortive sacrifice, Sarah dies; Abraham and Isaac never speak again; and Isaac reunites with Ishmael only at Abraham’s funeral.

We are left with so many questions. Why did Sarah feel it necessary to banish Hagar and Ishamael? Was she reluctant or eager to do so? Did Abraham have feelings for Hagar? Did Sarah know Abraham had taken Isaac to be sacrificed? Did she and Abraham fight over his obedience to God? When Isaac realized that his father planned to sacrifice him, did he admire his father’s faith or did he hate his father’s zealousness?

Thank goodness most of us haven’t personally experienced anything like this Palestine based Peyton Place, but we recognize in the Torah’s narrative the frustrations, the outbursts, the manipulations and the betrayals that are a part of domestic abuse.

We recognize the voice in Psalm 55 as the gut wrenching testimony of a victim. “Give ear, O God, to my prayer; do not ignore my plea… My heart is convulsed within me; terrors of death assail me… I said ‘O that I had the wings of a dove. I would fly away and find rest’… It is not an enemy who reviles me – I could bear that; it is not my foe who vaunts himself against me – I could hide from him; but it is you, my equal, companion, my friend; …his talk was smoother than butter, yet his mind was on war; his words were more soothing than oil, yet they were drawn swords.”

Judaism could not be more unanimous in its condemnation of domestic abuse in all its forms. Rabbi Meir of Rothenberg recommended excommunication of the abusive husband.  The Shulchan Aruch, the medieval Jewish code of law, also rules sensitively in this matter, noting that if a man cannot do anything about his abusive behavior, he is to divorce his wife as a release for her from the pain.  Another rabbi states that one deserves greater punishment for striking his wife than for striking another person, for he is enjoined specifically to honor his wife and thereby harshly violates that commandment. Some even suggest that one of the Ten Commandments applies, “Thou Shalt Not Steal. For when one diminishes another through angry words or violence, it is if one has taken, stolen, a bit of that person’s soul.”

The rabbis of old understood that domestic abuse was a matter not only of physical violence but of emotional battery as well. The Talmud teaches: to humiliate another person is to shed blood. Which is why our tradition teaches the ideal is honor and respect at home. Husbands should go out of their way to assist their wives.  One rabbi suggested that if your wife is short, you should bend down to hear her whisper.  As the Talmud puts it:  "at all times let a person be keen-witted in the fear of God, giving a gentle answer, withholding anger, extending peace to brethren and relatives and to all people.”

When it comes to domestic abuse, there are many myths to dispel. The following facts come from Dr. Abraham Twerski, Michel’s brother, who is a noted expert in the field of abuse and recovery.

Myth: Every marriage has a few fights now and then. Crying "abuse" is just a way to get attention.

Reality: Abuse is not the same as normal marital arguments. Abuse is an ongoing pattern of power and control that progressively limits the thoughts, words and actions of the victim, out of fear of the abuser. Abuse is like addiction: it never gets better by itself and it requires in-depth work by the abuser to change his/her way of relating to others. When there is abuse in a marriage, couples counseling cannot help until there is first a change in the abuser and he or she stops the abuse for good.

Myth: If the abused person would just change or try harder, the abuse would stop. "It takes two to tango."

Reality: Although normal marriage is a two-way street, in this case experience shows that "trying harder" will escalate the abuse. Abuse is the responsibility of the abuser. No matter how annoying or difficult one's spouse or children are, that is never an excuse to abuse and hurt them.

Myth: Women abuse their husbands just as much as the opposite.

Reality: About 5% of the time the man is the primary victim of spouse abuse (and is usually less likely than a woman to tell anyone). Generally, when there is abuse, it is the wife who is abused by her husband. Wife abuse is one of the main reasons for women to be seen in hospital emergency rooms. When women hit or scratch, it is often in self-defense.

Myth: If the abuse isn't physical, it isn't really so serious.

Reality: We know that words can wound more deeply than blows. Ona'as devarim [pain caused by words alone] is a serious prohibition in the Torah. Emotional abuse kills the spirit. Furthermore, physical abuse is always accompanied, and often preceded, by emotional abuse. At the extreme, emotional abuse can cause physical illness, loss of the will to live or death by suicide.

Myth: Abusers are generally unpleasant or angry people. I could certainly tell if someone were an abuser.

Reality: Abusers are not monsters: they are often some of the most charming and helpful people around. Abuse is about control, not anger; the same person who claims his wife made him hit her because she "pushed his buttons" wouldn't dream of acting that way to a boss, a police officer or a rabbi he respected, no matter how angry he was.

Myth: If the abuse is kept quiet, it won't affect the children.

Reality: Children always know when something is wrong. Spouse abuse has demonstrable physical, neurological, emotional and social effects on children of all ages, including infants. Over 50% of the time, when a spouse is being abused, the children are also direct victims of child abuse. About 2/3 of children who witness spouse abuse end up in abusive marriages when they grow up.

Myth: If a spouse is abused, she or he has no choice but to get a divorce.

Reality: While divorce is one option, there are many reasons a person might choose to stay in an abusive marriage. Some of these are: hope that things will get better; financial worries; concerns for children; family and community pressure; fear that one will not be believed; lack of confidence in oneself. Often the abuser has threatened to hurt himself and/or others if the spouse leaves. The way a victim chooses to deal with abuse is up to that person.

Myth: If the abuser promises to do teshuvah, to repent, we should let bygones be bygones.

Reality: Teshuvah is a long, in-depth process that requires that the abuser take complete responsibility for his or her actions. It certainly involves much more than a mere intention or statement that the abuser won't do this again. Teshuvah is possible, but the process of healing cannot generally be done without the help of a therapist who understand the dynamics of abuse. This is an area that involves many difficult dynamics; it is essential that this process not be attempted on one's own.

Myth: What goes on in other people's families is private. Why should I deal with this problem?

Reality: Abuse in our community will begin to disappear when we no longer allow it. This means acknowledging the problem openly, giving concrete and emotional support to the victims, offering help to abusers if they want it and urging them to get help. Abuse is not a private issue. It affects future generations by passing on the message that abuse is normal in marriage, and it sometimes alienates victims and their children from Judaism when they see that what the Torah says about family life can be violated with no apparent outcry from the community. Abuse in our families is a Chillul Hashem, a desecration of God’s name. It is up to us, as a community, to stop it.” (Myths and Facts from Dr. Abraham Twerski)

What can you do personally? Know that if you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship there are local resources who can help. Here at Sinai, in the women’s and men’s bathrooms, are information sheets containing several phone numbers. First, there is CHAI, a local Jewish organization that can make referrals and offer resources. In addition are listed the numbers for the non Jewish local hotlines and shelters and women’s organizations who are positioned to help. In addition, women often turn to their doctors for help and referrals. And of course, the cantor and I are available to help you on a confidential basis to access the resources you need.

If you know or suspect a friend is in an abusive situation, here are appropriate things to say and do:

• Listen non judgmentally. Understand that your friend may be reluctant to talk about the situation and that what she does reveal may be only a small part of the abuse.
• Express your belief in what she is saying and let her know her confidences are safe with you, that you will not discuss her problem without her permission.
• Tell her you care about her well being, and are concerned for her safety. Let her know that you are there if she needs you. Make sure she can access the resources she needs, and has a plan of how to extract herself, should that prove necessary.
• It’s appropriate to remind your friend that she needs more help than you can give her. Don’t take on all the responsibility yourself. Such situations are challenging even for the most experienced social worker.
• Don’t say, “Here’s what you should do next.” Don’t try to save or rescue her. Instead help her to save herself by asking questions about what she wants to do.

Friends, according to the Torah, when God created the world, each act of creation was followed by the words: And God saw that it was good. Every act of creation, that is, except for the creation of human beings. It seems that being endowed with free will means our day to day decisions have yet to determine whether we shall be a blessing to others, or not.

On this Rosh HaShanah, fifty seven sixty four:

• may we resolve to instill a genuine sense of Shalom Bayit in our homes;
• May we treat those closest to us with the love and respect they deserve and that we would surely want for ourselves;
• And, should be become aware of homes in which the veneer of Shalom Bayit exists only to mask acts and words of abuse, may we have the courage to reach out to help one another.

Then, we truly will be doing God’s work with our own hands. And God will say of our creation: it is very good.

Amen.

Rabbi David B. Cohen

Congregation Sinai

Milwaukee, Wisconsin