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Specifications and Insurance: The Symptoms of the Shidduch Crisis

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Specifications and Insurance: The Symptoms of the Shidduch Crisis

I want to talk to write about something that truly hurts us all—the “Shidduch Crisis.” It’s a reality where so many incredible young men and women simply cannot find their match. And let’s be clear: it is not because there is anything wrong with them. It is heartbreaking to see the effort they expend, going on date after date, trying with everything they have. One time he’s interested and she’s not; the next, she’s interested and he’s not. It often ends in more disappointment—just another meeting that goes nowhere.

Have you ever wondered why this is happening? In my opinion, one reason is that we are living in the age of “technical specifications.” Today, you can buy almost anything based on an exact spec sheet. You can order a car with a specific list of upgrades or a cup of coffee customized to the exact temperature and sweetness you like. We’ve become so accustomed to everything in life working exactly how we want it, right when we want it.

But a human being is not a product. Parents and young people today approach dating with a “checklist” so rigid that it’s impossible to satisfy. No one can live their life according to someone else’s spec sheet. Beyond that, we are a generation looking for “insurance” on everything. We want a 1,000% guarantee that everything will be perfect; we look for collateral on our hopes and forget that a match isn’t a “deal” you close—it’s a construction project you begin.

Look at the Torah portion we just read, Acharei Mot. It says: “After the death of the two sons of Aaron… and they died.” Why the repetition? The Da’at Zekenim offers an explanation that should shake us to our core: He suggests they died simply because no woman was “good enough” for them. They were so proud of their own “specs”—the sons of the High Priest, the nephews of the King—that they disqualified everyone. “Who is worthy of us?” they asked. Because of that pride, they died without leaving a family behind (hence the repition of they died). This is a massive lesson for us. You cannot ask for “too much,” and you cannot look only at status and requirements. You have to leave room for God, because the Almighty is the one who makes matches; we have to let Him into our decision-making. There is a famous Yiddish saying: “Altz bei einem is nisht do bei keinem”—everything in one person doesn’t exist in anyone. No one has every single virtue and “spec” all at once.

On Lag BaOmer, we find the real cure for this crisis. The Gemara tells us that Rabbi Akiva’s students died because they didn’t treat one another with respect. The Meiri notes that on Lag BaOmer, this plague finally stopped. And I am telling you—the “Shidduch Crisis” plague will only stop when we stop judging. Showing respect means seeing the soul, not the list of stats. This plague will end when we stop looking at resumes and dry data and start seeing the real person sitting across from us.

There’s something else vital to remember: a match is a spark, not a pre-packaged bonfire. On Lag BaOmer, we light massive fires, but every fire starts as a small, fragile spark. Our mistake is that we are looking for “insurance.” We want to feel the warmth of 50 years of marriage on the very first date. The Bnei Yissaschar explains that on this day, the “Hidden Light” is revealed—that spiritual light that allows us to see beyond dry externalsThe hidden light in a relationship isn’t something you find ready-made; it’s something you build. A partner’s true light isn’t obvious at the start; it’s hidden within their personality. If we look for a roaring bonfire on the first date, we might miss the spark—that internal connection in values and character. If that spark is there, give it a chance! The heat and warmth of a home are built together over a lifetime, brick by brick.

Look at Rabbi Akiva. After his world was destroyed and left “desolate,” he didn’t give up. He went to the South and started over with just five students. He didn’t have guarantees; he had faith. This is the message for everyone who has been waiting a long time: one new meeting, one sincere suggestion, can build an entire world. Marriage is a shared project, not a product search. Even the Shulchan Aruch notes that this is the day when “no” turns into “yes” and the building begins.

To the parents and the young people, I want to say: set aside the “coffee shop specs” for a moment. Stop looking for a perfect product and look for a human being you can grow with. Give a real meeting a chance, not just a piece of paper. And to the community—you be the spark. Don’t stand on the sidelines. Pick up the phone; suggest a name. Each of us can be the one who lights the lamp in a new Jewish home. The moment we stop checking specs and start showing respect, we will merit to see the “Hidden Light” within our homes. This year, let’s light a real fire—one that builds a home forever.


© The Times of Israel (Blogs)