Small tidbits and Sparks of wisdom

The Talmud in Taanit 31a describes a remarkable and deeply meaningful custom observed on the fifteenth of Av, when the daughters of Jerusalem would dance in the vineyards. This practice was more than festive—it was a deliberate and thoughtful framework promoting dignity, spiritual clarity, and value-based matchmaking.

The Borrowing Hierarchy: Hidden Messages in Plain Garments

On the fifteenth of Av, the daughters of Jerusalem went out dressed in borrowed white garments. The Talmud details a deliberate borrowing hierarchy: the daughter of the king borrowed from the daughter of the Kohen Gadol (High Priest), she from the deputy High Priest, and so on, until the garments reached the daughters of ordinary Kohanim. This chain was structured top-down, not randomly, and certainly not in reverse.

Why not reverse the hierarchy altogether? Why not have the poorer girls wear the fine garments of the Kohanim and kings, and the royal and priestly daughters wear simpler garments, to elevate the poor and flatten status completely?

Because the Torah is not promoting illusion or false equality. If people saw a girl wearing royal-level clothing, they would know she must have borrowed it—because the custom was known. If they saw someone in plain garments, they would assume she was of higher class wearing down, as per the custom. Reversing the order would not fool anyone; it would call more attention to the social gaps. It would defeat the purpose.

The goal wasn’t to deceive or pretend that no social distinctions exist. The Torah doesn’t deny class, status, or lineage. Instead, it teaches that every person has a unique mission, and no mission is more valuable than another. A bat Kohen has spiritual responsibilities linked to the Temple and terumah. A bat Yisrael has her own sanctity, rooted in simplicity and often profound humility. All are equally beloved by Hashem, each in their place.

So what was the real objective of the garment exchange? To protect the dignity of the few—even just one or two girls—who didn’t own white garments. They were to be hidden in the crowd, not elevated, not paraded. The Torah is exquisitely sensitive to the emotional pain of the individual. It does not uproot reality for the sake of forced equality. Instead, it creates a space where no one is embarrassed, no one is exposed, and everyone is judged by character, not fabric.

We are not meant to pretend everyone is the same. We are meant to honor the fact that each person is created for their own unique tafkid (purpose). Just as one born without legs isn’t expected to run, one born into a poor or modest family isn’t measured by wealth, but by their effort and fulfillment of their personal mission.

In the eyes of humans, people are not equal. But in the eyes of Hashem, everyone is created equal.

This is the eternal balance between Divine justice and Divine compassion: we are measured not by how we compare to others, but by how fully we become ourselves.

Purity Before Return: Halachic Precision in Garment Use

The Mishna also states that all borrowed garments required immersion—not before wearing, but after. This was because many of the borrowers came from priestly families who handled terumah, which demanded ritual purity. Even if a garment had been stored away in a folded box (a sign it had not been touched for a long time), it still required immersion after use, lest it had become tamei (ritually impure) during wear.

Rabbi Elazar emphasizes that even untouched garments must be treated as potentially impure if they were worn.

This halachic attention to detail underscores the blend of communal ethics and Torah law. On Tu B’Av, the external was downplayed to uplift the internal—while still strictly maintaining the sanctity of priestly purity.

The Matchmaking Event: Seeking a Wife in the Vineyards

The Mishna continues that on the fifteenth of Av, the daughters of the Jewish people would go out and dance in the vineyards. A tanna taught: One who did not yet have a wife would go there to find one. This was understood to be an opportunity to seek a spouse, not based on wealth or status, but through a setting that emphasized values and introspection rather than spectacle.

Three Appeals: Beauty, Lineage, and Heaven

The Sages record what various groups of women would say to the young men looking for wives:

• “What would the beautiful women say?” – “Set your eyes toward beauty, for a wife is only for her beauty.”
• “What would the women of distinguished lineage say?” – “Look to our family background, for a wife is only for children, and children inherit lineage.”
• “What would the unattractive ones say?” – “Marry for the sake of Heaven. If you do, adorn us afterward with gold and jewelry to beautify us.”

Each appeal represents a different approach to marriage—external attraction, family legacy, and spiritual intent. None are dismissed outright, but the hierarchy of values is clear: the deepest, most enduring marriages come from choosing l’shem Shamayim—for the sake of Heaven.

The Dance of the Future: A Vision of Redemption

The tractate concludes with a prophecy. Ulla of Bira’a said that Rabbi Elazar taught: In the future, at the end of days, the Holy One, Blessed be He, will arrange a dance of the righteous. He will sit among them in the Garden of Eden, and each and every righteous person will point to Him with his finger, as it says:

“And it shall be said on that day: Behold, this is our God; we have waited for Him, that He should save us.” (Isaiah 25:9)

This ultimate dance will not be in vineyards but in the Garden of Eden, and not for matchmaking but for eternal reward. The imagery of dancing ties the earthly joy of Tu B’Av to the eternal joy of the righteous in Olam Haba.

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