Lying to Get Married

by Rabbi Paul Arberman

A couple came into my office recently to ask me to perform their wedding. The bride explained, “Rabbi, after my bad experience getting married and divorced through the Orthodox rabbinate, I promised myself I would never go back. That’s why we want you – a Masorti rabbi.” But there was a catch. “My parents are very traditional. If they ask you, could you just say you’re Orthodox?”

Basically, they were asking me to lie. Many people think the prohibition against lying comes from the 10 Commandments, but it actually says there that “Thou shalt not bear false witness,” meaning you should not lie in a court of law because it could unravel the entire justice system. The actual prohibition comes from Leviticus 19:11 where it says lo teshakru (you shall not deal deceitfully or falsely with one another).

Any way you cut it, I didn’t like what she was asking me to do. But then she pulled out her trump card: “Please, Rabbi,” she said. “It would help keep my family together and happy; it’s for shalom bayit.” I told her I would get back to her.

It’s ironic. The Masorti movement requires the traditional ketubah, ring, huppah, and prayers of erusin and kiddushin over cups of wine in front of at least two valid witnesses. The wedding is kdat Moshe v’Yisrael – according to the law of Moses and the children of Israel – whether or not the couple asks me.

I’ve had couples request more egalitarian weddings, and I very much believe that the law allows for additions. But when asked to do a traditional wedding ceremony, I perform it exactly as an Orthodox rabbi would. That was not enough for this couple. I know that shalom bayit is an important Jewish value, but I had a feeling that it could not compete with the Torah prohibition against lying. I found that question is more complex than it seems.

There are times when we are allowed – and some would say are even supposed – to lie. Some are more obvious than others. For example, scholars or rabbis don’t have to say they know everything, even if they do; they may lie in order to remain modest (Babylonian Talmud, Bava Metzia 23b-24a).

We also are permitted to lie to murderers, plunderers, and corrupt tax collectors (Babylonian Talmud, Nedarim 27b). So, for example, you don’t have to tell the thief that there is a safe hidden under the carpet. Another set of lies involves protecting people’s feelings. All day long we say, “Nice to see you,” even when, sometimes, it isn’t so nice; “You look great – or you haven’t aged a bit,” even when they have…a bit. We say thank you for the lovely gift, even when we save the tag to return it the next day.

The Talmud discusses the problem of what praises to say to a bride (Babylonian Talmud, Ketubot 16b-17a). “The school of Shammai says: We praise the bride as she is. The school of Hillel says: We say that she is a beautiful and graceful bride. Shammai objected: If she was lame or blind, does one say about her that she is a beautiful and graceful bride – since doesn’t the Torah say: ‘Distance yourself from a false matter!’ (Exodus 23: 7).

“Hillel said to Shammai: According to your opinion, if someone made a bad purchase in the market, should one praise it or disparage it to his face? Surely, one should praise it. From this the sages say: A person’s disposition should always be pleasant with people.”

In other words, be nice. Be polite. Take care of other’s feelings. When God reports to Abraham what Sarah said about having a child, God says that Sarah said: “Will I really bear a child, even though I have aged?’” Check the text. Sarah actually said: “My husband is old!” (Genesis 18:12-13). In other words, God does not tell Abraham what Sarah really said. In certain cases being kind is more important than telling the truth.

Following this example, I did some more research and it turns out the bride had a good point about shalom bayit.

The Babylonian Talmud relates in Yevamot 65b that Rabbi Elazar son of Rabbi Shimon said: “It is permitted for a person to deviate from the truth in the interest of peace.” He points out that Joseph’s brothers lie to Joseph so that he won’t take revenge on them. They say: “Your father [Jacob] commanded before his death, saying: Tell Joseph, ‘Please forgive the offense of your brothers and their sin...’” (Genesis 50: 16- 17). Needless to say, Jacob never said anything of the sort.

In another midrash, Aaron is praised for making peace between quarreling parties. He would go to one of the people and say: “The other person sent me to tell you that he apologizes and is truly sorry for the way he acted towards you.” Then he would go to the other person and say the same thing. When the two met, they would hug and kiss each other (Babylonian Talmud, Avot 1:12).

I find these texts convincing. It seems that it is okay to lie in certain circumstances. But in my case, I already am inclined to help any Jewish couple that asks me to marry them because I believe the Orthodox rabbinate in Israel abuses its monopoly on marriage. Forget about the fact that they don’t count Masorti marriages as valid or that the couples I marry have to go abroad if they want to be registered as married.

The Orthodox rabbis cause great suffering to everyone whom they believe is not Jewish – people whose grandparents fled the Nazis or anti-Semitism without documentation; people who come from the former Soviet Union; people who can’t get married in a civil marriage. Many couples have come to me on the verge of tears after trying to go through the system.

So what did I decide? I’ll tell you the truth. (Nu, what did you expect?) After some thought I told the couple that I could not lie although I’m not completely satisfied with my answer. I would not be lying just about myself; I would be lying about someone else, in this case, the Masorti movement. Rabbi Yohan (Sha’arei Teshuvah 3:178-186) says that one of the most serious types of lying involves people whose lies cause others to lose out on some benefit. I would be stealing from the good reputation of the movement; I would be denying our existence at a time when we are so embattled here.

I also refused because a person should avoid lying, even when it is permitted, lest he or she become accustomed to lying. In my case, lying about my identity at weddings could become a bad habit; another couple and then another could ask me to pretend I was Orthodox.

In the end, the bride’s parents never asked. They seemed thrilled with the ceremony. So when this world is behind me, and they ask me in the hereafter at the final judgment, “Have you been honest in your dealings?” I hope I can say yes.

But it is a complicated issue. I was ready to sacrifice the shalom bayit of a family on its wedding day. I am challenged by the fact that even God lied to protect Abraham and Sarah’s relationship.

I think in the future, if I am asked maybe I will just say what’s most important, what I’ve always known about the Masorti movement: that it is k’dat Moshe v’Yisrael, in accordance with the laws of Moshe and Israel.