Dear Rabbi,

My wife and I are getting divorced. You know us, we barely came to shul on Yom Kippur, and I won't tell you where we would dine out back when we were together. She wants me to give her a get, which I understand to be a religious divorce, but I feel like it's unnecessary. We lived a largely secular life together and I see no reason to have a religious ending to our failed marriage. Can you explain what a get is and why it would be necessary in our situation?

Jeff

Dear Jeff,

You're asking a fair question. You've built a largely secular life, and now that the marriage is ending, you want to close this chapter cleanly. From where you're standing, adding a religious element to a life that didn't really operate within religion feels unnecessary. Most people never think about a get until it's suddenly on the table, so your hesitation makes sense.

But this is where your true colors as a mensch will show.

As one wise person put it, there are three ways to gauge someone's character: How they walk through the door, what they do once they are inside (i.e., how they engage, converse, and present themselves), and how they close the door behind them as they leave. The last is the most revealing. You can enter gracefully. You can behave well while inside. But if you slam the door behind you when leaving, you negate everything that came before.

Your marriage began in goodness. Even the ones that end badly once began with a spark of grace. You tried to build a life together. You shared moments that were real. Even if the road forked, the beginning and the original commitment deserve to be honored. Sometimes, the only way left to honor her dignity and your character is in how you finish.

And that is where the get comes in.

A get is the Jewish act that formally ends a marriage. It is not a sermon or a public ritual. It is a handwritten document prepared by a trained scribe and delivered from husband to wife under rabbinic supervision. That moment releases her fully. Without it, in Jewish law, you remain connected long after the civil courts have closed the file.

So why bother if you don't believe in it?

Part of the answer is practical (and potentially painful). Without a get, she cannot remarry according to Jewish law (and neither will you be able to marry). She is still married to you.

If she does remarry without the get, any children born from that union face a devastating designation in Jewish law: mamzer. It is one of the most painful identities a child can carry. It destroys their ability to marry within the community and causes untold havoc as they try to navigate their identity as a Jew. All because of one document you didn't hand over before they were even conceived.

That undelivered document is taking hostage the woman you claimed to love, and her future for all generations.

Whether you believe in it or not, the consequences are real for both of you.

Mystically, there is another idea worth contemplating. A Jewish marriage is not merely logistics and paperwork. Something deeper was happening that day. Two lives opened toward each other. Two stories wove together. Our tradition calls it the joining of souls. You don't have to speak that language every day to recognize that a bond existed beyond what a court stamped on paper.

The get finishes what the marriage started.

You don't need to be religious to acknowledge that if something began with sanctity (even lightly, even unknowingly), the honorable thing is to close it with care rather than indifference. And the process itself is not complicated. A couple of hours. The money it costs to pay for the time of the court overhead and scribe (and if money and logistics are truly the issue, the courts are normally more than willing to accommodate). No speeches. No pressure. You show up, you participate, and you walk away knowing you've done right by someone you once loved.

You once cared enough to stitch your life to hers. Even if that stitch has come undone, you can choose not to leave a knot tied inside her future.

Giving a get is not about surrendering belief. It is the last responsible act available when a shared story has concluded. It says: Although we cannot continue walking the road together, I will not block you from moving forward freely. Once you give it, you’ve truly broken your ties and freed yourself to move upward and onward.

Divorce reveals us. It shows whether the kindness that opened the story had substance or only shine. And sometimes, the most lasting thing you offer the person you once loved is the manner in which you let them go. When you finish with generosity and dignity, something in the story completes itself. Something becomes whole again, if only your own integrity.

Don't slam the door on your way out. And don't hold her hostage. You are so much better than that.