Bruriah was one formidable woman.

She challenged and towered above the greatest Talmudic minds of the time but ultimately it was her own personal challenge that compromised her and led to her devastating death.

But she was no stranger to tragedy. Her father, Rabbi Chanina Ben Teradion was one of the most prolific sages in Jewish history and one of the Ten Martyrs murdered by the Romans for teaching Judaism. Bruriah watched as her holy father was burned alive at the stake in a Torah scroll with water-soaked wool placed on his heart to prolong his suffering.

The Romans then murdered Bruriah’s mother and forced her sister into prostitution (later to be rescued by Bruriah’s husband, at her request.)

Bruriah’s husband, Rabbi Meir, was also one of the most prominent Torah scholars of the era. Yet, it was his wife who took center stage. Bruriah would study 300 laws per day and was so learned that Rabbis would turn to her for her expertise, opinions and rulings. Her sharp wit and verbal blows could knock “fools” as she called them (to their face) off their feet. She is even recorded as kicking a student once who was not studying properly.

But her gentility and faith in God was also apparent. Tragedy struck again when her two sons with Rabbi Meir took ill and died suddenly, leaving her to break the news to her husband. She eased him in, asking him what the proper conduct wouldbe when someone lends her something for safekeeping and then returns wanting to reclaim it?

Rabbi Meir responded that she must of course return it. When Rabbi Meir saw his two deceased sons and began to weep, she comforted him, reminding him of his own words and that their sons were lent to them by God who had now called them back.

In another instance, Rabbi Meir found himself being grieved by some townspeople, to the point that he called out to God for their death. His wife confronted him, correcting his understanding of a verse that sinners warrant death. She explained that the verse highlights the sin, not the sinner and that his prayers should instead be for these people to repent and change their ways, which they ultimately did.

Then it gets a little bizarre.

The Talmud drops off and tells us that Bruriah’s husband, Rabbi Meir, suddenly flees to Babylon due to the “Bruriah Incident.”

Rashi, one of our favorite commentators explains. Bruriah was once talking with her husband and scoffed, mocking the Talmudic quote, “נשים דעתן קלות”  meaning that women are “light-minded.” Her husband responded “On your life, your end will acknowledge these words.” And her husband set out to prove this,  employing one of his students to seduce his wife.

At first, Bruriah resisted. But after countless attempts to entice her, she gave in. The shame that followed was too great for Bruriah and she ended up taking her own life. Her husband Rabbi Meir, distraught, left Israel and fled for Babylon.

Now, this is just one interpretation. Another says that the “student” was Rabbi Meir in disguise, but still Bruriah’s humiliation and disappointment in herself consumed her. Regardless of how troubling this story is, Bruriah’s life and character speaks to much more than her tragic death.

Bruriah contained multitudes. She was an exceptionally pious, righteous woman yet still painfully human. Her end makes her greater still. That all along she, like all of us, had the impulses of nature and suggestion, but her life was about rising above them: the male-dominated world of Jewish intellect, a life wrought with  loss and her own personal struggle to channel her wild, mind, femininity and sexuality. The final test of her character left her broken, but leaves us even more inspired by her. In her last moments she wasn’t perfect, but she was so perfectly human.