We’ve encountered talmudic texts which might lead us to believe teenage girls were routinely married off to elderly men in the ancient Jewish world. These marriages also appear commonly in many historical dramas, set in time periods and societies ranging from ancient empires to the British aristocracy of the 19th century. But the historical reality is more complex.

In Pirkei Avot Rabbi Yehudah ben Teimah teaches that boys do not marry late. Indeed, at five years old they study Torah, at 10 years they study Mishnah, at 15 years they study Talmud:

At 18 years, the chuppah.

He next states they pursue a livelihood at age 20, two years after they’ve married. This suggests that men do not marry late in life, but it’s also the case that this line doesn’t appear in the most authentic manuscripts. In any case, there’s no guarantee this reflected reality: It’s easy to imagine a rabbinic authority suggesting that marriage would ideally be earlier than the norm he saw around him. Nonetheless, and significantly, there’s no evidence that marriages between young women and old men were encouraged.

In fact, on today’s daf, we encounter a strong voice in the tradition against that practice. The mishnaic Rabbi Eliezer, commenting on  Leviticus 19:20 (“Do not profane your daughter by causing her to act licentiously” ) says:

This is referring to one who marries his daughter to an old man.

Generations later, Rav Yehudah says in the name of Rav:

One who marries his daughter to an old man … with regard to him the verse states … “God will not be willing to pardon him.” 

This is devastating criticism of the parent, and while it suggests that such marriages did sometimes occur, it also shows that they were considered distasteful even then.

What exactly is the concern in these May-December relationships? Moses Maimonides and the Shulchan Aruch infer from the word licentiously that Rabbi Eliezer is worried a woman married to a much older man will eventually look for intimacy elsewhere. Accordingly, they rule that such a marriage will “cause” licentiousness. But Rashi suggests a different reason: “Because (the young wife) doesn’t accept (the old husband), she acts licentiously.” Rashi imagines that such a relationship is non-consensual, enforced by the girl’s father.

Rashi’s own biography suggests that he would have been particularly sensitive to these dynamics. There is some evidence that Rashi taught Torah to his daughters, against the prevailing culture in which women tended not to learn Torah. It is more certain that his daughters married some of his finest students. In cases where we have evidence, we know that the brides were about the same age as their grooms, if not older. One could speculate that Rashi would have hated the idea of imposing marriage to an old codger on any of his daughters without their consent.

Following Rashi’s lead, early modern halakhic authorities make clear that the recommendation against a marriage with a large age gap (in any direction) does not apply if the younger partner is happy with the match. The Helkat Mehokek, the Beit Shmuel and the Be’er Heitev all bring a ruling from the Sefer Hasidim (13th century), which states that “if she desires (him)” then the marriage can go ahead. In fact, the Sefer Hasidim expands Rabbi Eliezer’s interpretation of the verse to include any husband who is “revolting in her eyes.” What is left is a firm polemic against forced marriage of any kind.

The way in which Rabbi Eliezer’s statement develops and changes its meaning over time reflects an historic shift in attitudes, extending far beyond the Jewish world, towards the prioritization of personal choice. But does this framing of the original statement do it justice? The most recent waves of feminism have returned to the idea that some relationships are unhealthy despite the consent of both parties; modern legal systems recognize cases in which consent cannot meaningfully be given, and age accounts for many of those cases. Perhaps, in addition to the importance of consent which Rashi emphasizes, we must also learn from Rabbi Eliezer to be aware of imbalances of power between partners. However the verse is read, it makes the dramatic choice to assign blame not to a young woman, but to older family members who have failed to protect her. In too many cases, we are still fighting for our societies to make that choice.

Read all of Sanhedrin 76 on Sefaria.

This piece originally appeared in a My Jewish Learning Daf Yomi email newsletter sent on March 3, 2025. If you are interested in receiving the newsletter, sign up here.