For someone who considers herself intelligent, she made a comment that was not only unwise, but deeply offensive. Offensive enough that I knew instantly I could not, in good conscience, introduce her to any quality young man I know.
What made it even more striking was that this conversation took place shortly before Purim, a time when we are meant to reflect on Jewish identity, unity, and the values that sustain Am Yisrael.
Last week, a 30-year-old single woman told me she wanted information about a prospective match before he even checked her out,” to ensure he came from a “non-questionable” background. She did not ask whether his parents had a healthy marriage. She did not inquire about the family’s middos, warmth, or values. She simply stated that she must first confirm that his background was “non-questionable.”
What exactly does that mean?
Twenty-five years ago, when I began redting shidduchim, having a sibling with Down syndrome could disqualify someone from top prospects. Later, it was divorced parents. Then a sibling who went off the derech. Rarely did anyone inquire about common genetic concerns in Ashkenazic families, such as BRCA mutations or colon cancer. Yet families were quick to dismiss a match because of autism in the extended family.
Some proudly announce their yichus, tracing lineage back to Dovid HaMelech, himself the descendant of Rus the convert, yet reject someone who is not frum-from-birth. Others quietly overlook serious character concerns while rejecting a person for having a relative who struggles religiously and is off-the-derech. We claim to value Torah ideals, yet sometimes our screening process reflects something else entirely.
When I hear friends or relatives lament that this particular 30-year-old “deserves the best” and that “no one sets her up with quality boys,” I think we need to be honest. Words reveal character. The phrase “non-questionable background” was deliberate. It reflected not caution, but condescension. Not discernment, but disdain.
Hashem makes shidduchim. We do not know who He has designated for whom. But when someone remains unmarried at 30, it is reasonable to consider that perhaps there are perspectives that need refining, standards that need recalibration, middos that need strengthening.
When someone speaks so dismissively about other frum Jews, I not only question her sensitivity, but also her bitachon and emunah. Do we truly believe that Hashem runs the world, or do we believe that pedigree and optics determine destiny?
What does this have to do with Purim?
The story recorded in Megilas Esther teaches that the Jewish people faced annihilation after participating in the cultural excesses of Shushan. Assimilation is rarely dramatic at first; it seeps in quietly. Social norms are adopted subtly. Standards shift incrementally.
In the broader world of dating, practices such as demanding photos up front, making snap judgments based on perception or image, or canceling a scheduled date after continuous and invasive “background checks” reflect a secular marketplace mentality. That is not the Torah’s approach, which prioritizes middos, yiras Shamayim, kindness, humility, and shared values.
As we approach Purim, we should recall the courage of Esther and Mordechai, who resisted assimilation and reaffirmed Jewish identity. Their strength was not in blending in, but in standing firm.
One of the most important lessons I have learned as a shadchan is this: anyone rejected by narrow-minded, judgmental people has likely dodged a painful future.
Because psychological research also reinforces the Torah’s wisdom. Chronically judgmental people tend to make rapid conclusions and have negative or impulsive reactions based on incomplete information. Often, this stems from insecurity, low self-esteem, or perfectionistic environments where worth was conditional. When someone harshly evaluates others, it frequently reveals more about their inner struggles and their own upbringing than about the person they are critiquing.
Purim reminds us that Jewish survival has never depended on pedigree, branding, or social stratification. It depends on fidelity to Torah values. In every generation, assimilation appears in a new form: cultural, social, or ideological. The test is the same: will we measure worth the way the surrounding society does, or the way the Torah does?
This does not mean we ignore real concerns. It means we define them properly. A “non-questionable background” is not about family optics. It is about integrity, kindness, emotional health, and commitment to avodas Hashem.
And let us also keep perspective. A shidduch crisis is not when someone remains single because rigid, judgmental attitudes eliminate excellent prospects. A true shidduch crisis is what some meforshim say the young Jewish single women endured under Ahasuerus, when those were taken into the King’s palace for one night were eternally not allowed to marry.
As you prepare for Purim, examine not only the resumes you receive, but the lenses through which you evaluate them. If you are seeking a partner to build a bayis ne’eman b’Yisrael, focus less on eliminating “questionable backgrounds” and more on cultivating unquestionable middos – in yourself first.
Our strength has never been in becoming less Jewish to fit in. It has always been about becoming more deeply, authentically Jewish, and allowing that authenticity to guide the homes we build. By dating, marrying, and building homes according to the Torah’s values rather than secular trends, we ensure continuity not only of a people, but of a divine mission.