Once
upon a time, in my dark and distant past, I used to think that the Jewish
wedding ceremony was terribly unfair to the woman. I thought it excluded any
and all active participation by the bride – nothing to say, nothing to give,
nothing to do, that would be in any way equivalent to the choson’s giving of a ring, and reciting an accompanying formula.
Mute, blind and passive, she would stand there and let herself be acquired, not so
much consenting as conceding, while the groom would be busy sanctifying her to
himself. Why, I used to think, couldn’t tradition have allotted to the kallah some symbolic act, however
modest, with which she could, at the very least, indicate her informed consent?
It took several years before the truth dawned on me:
that not only does the kallah indeed
have her own ritual to perform under the chuppah,
but that her ritual takes up considerably more time and space – literally
speaking – than that of the bridegroom. I am referring, of course, to the seven
circles that the bride spins around her chosen choson; in my opinion, as we shall see, not as a prelude to the
actual ceremony, but rather as its first significant component.
There are many different interpretations of the
seven circuits and their origins. The most commonly cited, perhaps, is that
they correspond to the seven levels of the mystical, heavenly Sephiros; or, that the kallah with her hakafos creates a wall around her choson that will protect him from outside temptations and evil
influences. Another explanation is that the circles represent, and remind the choson of, the husband’s seven
rabbinical obligations to his wife – his three Biblical obligations are written
down in the kesubah.
Some other thoughts ……
I once heard it suggested that the circling was
connected with a midrash that the Tevas Noach – the ark of Noah – circled
seven times around Mount Ararat before it finally landed. Having asked around a
bit, and having been met with vacant stares, I strongly suspect that this was
complete fabrication and that no such midrash
really exists, but I love the imagery that it evokes: the bride like a vessel
with her veil for a sail, adrift on the ocean of life, circling, searching for
a safe harbor, a welcoming port – until she finally anchors by the sturdy tree,
whose sheltering branches reach out to embrace her.
There is probably a host of other poetic
possibilities and historical references to draw from as well. Incurable romantic
that I am, I can put a tender spin even on the story of Yehoshua, marching
seven times around the walls of Jericho until they collapsed. In the context of
a wedding, the wall would stand for the man’s instinctual defense mechanism
against emotional involvement; the “wall” with which a man surrounds himself in
his fear of being weakened by love. The wall has stood hard and fast, but here
comes the bride and with gentle persistence she makes it crumble – a necessary
process in order for her and her husband to become truly basar echad – one flesh.
Tent or Chuppah? Hard to tell! Of course, the chuppah is really the symbol of a tent! (Image from looklovewed.co.nz) |
To all of the above, I would like to add a fancy of
my own, which occurred to me one day as I was lost in contemplation of that
wedding which might, be’ezras Hashem,
take place some time in the unknown future* with myself as one of the main
characters. According to this conception, the spheres are spun around the groom
at seven different physiological levels, (perhaps slightly reminiscent of the
concept of the chakras – seven
centers of spiritual energy, located along the human spine), each corresponding
to the emotional energy of an organ or a limb positioned at that level.
Consequently, the first circle is drawn around the
bridegroom’s body at the level of his eyes, so that he should only see beauty
in his bride. The second circle envelops his ears, so that he should learn to
listen to her with patience and understanding. The third circuit goes at the
level of his mouth, to make him only speak gently to her. The fourth one
involves his heart in order to make him always loving and loyal. With the fifth
round his arms are charged with the task of shielding her, of carrying her
through difficult times. The sixth circuit will ensure that all his physical
passion is directed towards his wife; and the seventh, that he will stand firm
in his commitment.
Regardless of how we choose to interpret the seven
circuits, it is by encircling the choson that
the kallah takes possession of him.
Thus she is enclosing him within her sphere; marking her territory; leaving, if
you will, her trail of scent around him, thereby setting him aside for her
exclusive benefit. With these wedding rings – seven symbolic rings instead of
one made of gold – the choson is
sanctified to his kallah. Those misguided feminist
detractors who (strange as this is to fathom), denigrate the ritual, lobbying
for its abolition, calling it a remnant of a submissive and seductive dance
that the bride performs for the pleasure of her prospective master, couldn't be more wrong! This is the
proud and powerful act with which a Daughter of Israel takes herself a husband.
Shalom Uv'racha!
Shulamit
*FOOTNOTE: In 2004,
seven years after this article was originally written, the author was
finally zoche to walk, trembling but unaided by her unterfirerinnen, seven
times around her choson. It worked!
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