Bruriah - and Female Torah Scholars

My class on Aggadah at Orot ended yesterday, and one of the students gave a model lesson as her class assignment. She chose to share some of the Aggadic statements about Bruriah, the well-known historic figure from the era of the Tanaim (the rabbis who appear in the Mishnah). I must confess: I has been aware of Bruria's existence (and the fact that they named a high school after her), but I somehow missed some of the sources that I'm going to share with you in this post.
The Wikipedia entry on her is actually quite complete, so I'll quote it.

Bruriah (Hebrew: ברוריה) is one of several women quoted as a sage in the Talmud. She was the wife of the Tanna Rabbi Meir and the daughter of Rabbi Hananiah Ben Teradion, who is listed as one of the "Ten Martyrs." She is greatly admired for her breadth of knowledge in matters pertaining to both halachah and aggadah, and is said to have learned from the rabbis 300 halachot on a single cloudy day (Tractate Pesachim 62b). Her parents were put to death by the Romans for teaching Torah, but she carried on their legacy.
Bruriah was very involved in the halachic discussions of her time, and even challenges her father on a matter of ritual purity (Tosefta Keilim Bava Kamma 4:9). Her comments there are praised by Rabbi Judah Ben Bava. In another instance, Rabbi Joshua praises her intervention in a debate between Rabbi Tarfon and the sages, saying "Bruriah has spoken correctly" (Tosefta Keilim Bava Metzia 1:3).
She was also renowned for her sharp wit and often caustic jibes. The Talmud (Tractate Eruvin 53b) relates that she once chastised Rabbi Jose, when he asked her "באיזו דרך נלך ללוד" ("By which way do we go to Lod?") claiming that he could have said the same thing in two [Hebrew] words, "באיזה ללוד" ("By which to Lod?") instead of four, and thereby keep to the Talmudic injunction not to speak to women unnecessarily.

Then we came to the issue of Bruria's death. Back to Wikipedia:

The Talmud, in Tractate Avodah Zarah (18b), mentions that in the middle of his life, Rabbi Meir fled to Babylonia, and mentions two possible motivations. The second of these is "the Bruriah incident" (מעשה דברוריא), a phrase which is not explained. It is left to the classical commentaries to fill in this lacuna; Rashi (ad loc.) relates the following story. Bruriah made light of the Talmudic assertion that women are "light-minded". (נשים דעתן קלות) To vindicate the Talmudic maxim, Rabbi Meir sent one of his students to seduce her. Though she initially resisted the student's advances, she eventually acceded to them. When she realized what she had done (כשנודע לה), she committed suicide out of shame. (Other sources have it that she fell ill emotionally due to shame, and a group of Rabbis prayed for her death and peace.) Rabbi Meir, in turn, exiled himself from Israel out of shame and fled to Babylonia.

For some reason, I had never heard of this story before. It appears exactly as described in Rashi Avoda Zara. And I said yesterday and write today: I don't believe it to be true. I also don't even believe that Rashi wrote that story at all. Yes, it does appear in the text of Rashi. But any regular student of the Gemara will notice different commentaries amending and changing parts of the text of Rashi on a semi-regular basis. Also, let's not forget that Rashi's commentary was hand-written, and copied. Is there a chance that a hand-written comment on the side of a Rashi text was accidentally copied and then included as part of the original text? I think that there is.
Yet, the primary reason I refuse to accept that the story happened, and that Rashi wrote it, is that it defies belief. What rabbi - actually what husband or human being - would encourage a student to test his wife by seducing her? Who would do such a thing? How does that relate in any way to the idea of נשים דעתן קלות? What would such a thing even prove? It could not have happened, and I don't believe Rashi could have considered it a possibility either.

Yet, this question - what happened to Bruriah - is crucial for a modern-day question that the Modern Orthodox world finds itself grappling with. Essentially, how do we relate to the well-known rabbinic dictates that seem to denigrate women? How do we address comments like נשים דעתן קלות - "women are light-minded" and כל המלמד את בתו תורה כאלו מלמדה טפלות - "anyone who teaches his daughter Torah; it is as if he taught her foolishness"? In the story of Bruriah, her scoffing at the words of Chazal ultimately led to her downfall. Thus, as the story appears, it sends a warning: don't dismiss Chazal so fast. They articulated a deeper truth that Briuriah failed to grasp, and that failure led to her destruction.
On the other hand, if the story never happened, then we turn our attention back to the positive comments about her Torah scholarship and the honor she is accorded in rabbinic literature. Then, we can view the rabbinic statements about women as general observations about their time (which I'm sure were accurate), but not as rules to live by. After all, they were willing to make an exception for the very capable and Torah-knowledgeable woman they knew personally.
This, of course, leads us to today. If Bruriah could be so respected by the Sages so many centuries ago, why are we so scared of women who wish to take leadership roles in the Orthodox world? Why do female Torah scholars frighten us so? On the hand, if Rashi's story really did happen, we must do our utmost to steer clear of this dangerous model of female leadership, in order to avoid the inevitable calamity that will ensure.
Who's right? I guess that depends on your position regarding the "Story of Bruriah" as it appears in Rashi. Did you think it really happened, or not?

Kol Isha: A Woman's Perspective

At the Orot College of Education (where I work in the admissions office and also teach), I teach a class on Halachah called, "Hanichnas Lapeh v'Hayotzei Mimenu", meaning, "What Goes into the Mouth and What Comes Out of It" - giving me free reign to teach kashrut, laws of prohibited speech - it's a pretty wide range of topics. When the controversy surrounding The Voice erupted, I decided to study the issue with my students.

The classes, given over two weeks, were volatile and invigorating. Orot students are, by and large, Religious Zionists (that's why they study here), but they also represent a broad spectrum within the RZ community.

None, to a person, agreed with the choice to perform on The Voice. But while some couldn't understand why performed in violation of halachah, others expressed a sense of identification with a lack of venue which would allow her to express her God-given talent.

In response to my first post on this issue, I share (with permission) the following email from Sarah Maslowe (formerly of Silver Spring, now of Jerusalem!)

When I was 16 yrs old, a millennium ago, I was very confused about the kol isha issue.  I had an especially beautiful voice & loved singing.  I went from Rav to Rav to get an understanding why I could not sing on stage or in front of any man.  I never got an answer, why G-d created me with a beautiful voice, but I couldn't use it.  The best I got was that I will be able to use it to sing to my children (who only enjoyed it when they were little.  Teenagers have no interest in it.:-)).  Of course that answer made me angry!  When I was 17 I had the opportunity to perform with a semi professional group.  I made the decision to go against that prohibition.  At the end of the program, I was very depressed because I saw that if I were to continue to perform, my shmirat Shabbat was going to be compromised.  

There is no greater thrill to sing well to a large adoring audience.  Of course, I made the right choice & now the grandchildren enjoy my voice when the sons-in-laws are not around.  

I am very moved by this young girls situation & I wish there was a better explanation why G-d would give such a gift that cannot be used fully.  Of course there are plenty of mitzvot without clear explanations that we must follow, & that was what convinced me as a girl.  Of course that advice did not come from the Rabbis, it came from my wise mother.  Perhaps, getting the Rabbis to address the issue better could help this girl.

Lastly, at least now there are women performing groups that young women can showcase there talent.  I even tried out for a show, & my daughter & grandaughter were very impressed with my skill.  I was not as good as the "Broadway" talent of the women who got the parts. But, I felt a part of the sisterhood who found the acceptable place for their talents.  They are amazingly gifted. 

This issue has deep ramifications, from the stage all the way to the Shabbat table.I recognize that I cannot understand or appreciate the restrictions of Kol Isha. I love to sing and do so whenever I choose, while my wife (and now daughter) always think twice before singing if anyone else is around. I recognize that I cannot fully appreciate Ofir ben Shitrit's struggle, having been born with a beautiful voice halachah prevents her from showcasing in public.

But I also challenged my students to be the ones to create those venues. 

Here in Israel, the religious community is large enough to create singing venues and even perhaps competitions that would allow women of all ages to sing, in public, for other women.

A PR Pic from the Noga Dance Company

Over the past ten years, Orot has built the only religious School for Dance Education in the world. Our graduates teach in schools across the country, and have created a dance company that performs for women-only audiences to rave reviews. At the day-long programs that I coordinate for visiting Sherut Le'umi students, Orot's dance students have given dozens of performances, of which I have never seen a single one, as well I should not.

If we can do it for dance, we can - and must - also create the venues to allow women and girls with beautiful voices to express themselves in a manner fully consistent with halachah. 

I am sure that one day soon, someone will.

Ruth Calderon's Clarion Call

In what must have been the most important speech delivered from the podium of the Knesset in years (politicians don't really talk to each other any more; they talk at each other, and rarely, if ever convince each other using something as arcane as "argument" or "logic"), Dr. Rut Calderon, in her initial speech to the Knesset as a newly elected member of Yesh Atid, essentially turned Israel's legislative body into a short Gemara shiur.
It's a powerful, insightful, and important speech. If you haven't yet watched it, you should, and if you don't understand the Hebrew, you can read a translation here although watching it is much better, because you get a sense of her masterful teaching skills. (When she opens the book, she simply stops reading her speech, and begins to teach, instinctively and masterfully. You also immediately recognize that she knows her stuff; she knows not only how to read Gemara, but is intimately familiar with Gemara terminology and idiom. This isn't a one-off of some vort she heard. She's teaching from the inside.
And her choice of which section to teach was clearly picked to send a clear message to the Chareidi world: You can't just learn Torah in a vacuum. A true student of Torah cannot simply sit on the rooftop basking in the glory of his study. Rather, he must also account for how his learning affects others around him. She said this almost explicitly:

What can I learn about this place and my work here from Rabbi Rechumei and his wife? First, I learn that one who forgets that he is sitting on another’s shoulders – will fall. I agree with what you said earlier, MK Bennett. I learn that righteousness is not adherence to the Torah at the expense of sensitivity to human beings. I learn that often, in a dispute, both sides are right, and until I understand that both my disputant and I, both the woman and Rabbi Rechumei, feel that they are doing the right thing and are responsible for the home. Sometimes we feel like the woman, waiting, serving in the army, doing all the work while others sit on the roof and study Torah; sometimes those others feel that they bear the entire weight of tradition, Torah, and our culture while we go to the beach and have a blast. Both I and my disputant feel solely responsible for the home. Until I understand this, I will not perceive the problem properly and will not be able to find a solution. I invite all of us to years of action rooted in thought and dispute rooted in mutual respect and understanding.

Of course, the Chareidi condemnation came swiftly (short English summary here). How could they not see a Gemara-learning-secular-woman as a threat to their way of life, especially when her party's clear goal is to force the Chareidi community, by and large, to leave the Beit Midrash and "share the burden".
Yet, if that's all we take away from Calderon's speech; if all we see here is a political talk, then we're missing her primary audience.

Calderon began her talk by noting her secular upbringing, (it really was a masterful speech, crafted with great care and skill. And I'm pretty critical of such things) devoid of any spiritual or true religious content. Yet, she spoke of herself as an example of her entire generation.

The Torah is not the property of one movement or another. It is a gift that every one of us received, and we have all been granted the opportunity to meditate upon it a we create the realities of our lives. Nobody took the Talmud and rabbinic literature from us. We gave it away, with our own hands, when it seemed that another task was more important and urgent: building a state, raising an army, developing agriculture and industry, etc.

It's not that the Chareidim took the Gemara, or Jewish tradition, away from secular Israelis. We, she said, didn't want it. We had other things to do. But in building a powerful, advanced, strong state, we forgot about our souls,and built a secular state devoid of meaning, empty of spiritual and cultural richness.
The people of Israel vaulted Yesh Atid to prominence on the power of the slogan "Shivyon B'netel" - or "Sharing the burden equally." Yet, Calderon wasn't simply calling to the Chareidim to serve in the army and pay taxes. She does, of course, call for that. But she wants the sharing of the burden to go the other way as well.
She wants secular Israel to recognize that the Torah isn't just the possession of the Chareidi world. They too must "share the burden." They too must delve into the richness and depth of Jewish tradition, to make it part of their cultural identity.

I aspire to bring about a situation in which Torah study is the heritage of all Israel, in which the Torah is accessible to all who wish to study it, in which all young citizens of Israel take part in Torah study as well as military and civil service. Together we will build this home and avoid disappointment.

Calderon concluded her remarks by mentioning the passing of her teacher, the late Rabbi David Hartman, who she said, "opened up the doors of his beit midrash for me." With all the numerous eulogies commemorating the contribution Hartman made to the Jewish world, the Orthodox world has been curiously silent about his death. Personally, I've never studied any of his books, and am only vaguely aware of the institute that he founded decades ago. His life, and his passing, seemed unrelated to my life - or that of the Orthodox world - in any tangible way. That is, until I heard Calderon's talk.
Perhaps her talking about forcing the Chareidi world to "share the burden" scares them. But perhaps the other side of her talk scared them even more.
To my mind, we can only hope that Calderon has the vision, power and influence to turn her dream into a reality. While I might not agree with all of her conclusions about each text, that matters to me much less than the fact that she has the potential to bring Torah to the masses in an unprecedented way. (As of this writing, her talk/she has been viewed over 120 thousand (!!) times. When is the last time any Torah shiur of any kind had been watched that many times?)
I hope she succeeds.

Women and Kriat Hatorah - My Two Cents

Each and every year following Simchat Torah, the challenging and thorny issues related to women and public prayer once again surface in the public Orthodox consciousness. This month, articles by Rabbi Michael Broyde, a heartfelt (but in my view somewhat misguided) piece by Rabbi Zev Farber as well as a somewhat simplistic piece by his daughter raised the issue of public kriat Hatorah groups within the Orthodox community, and by extension, the larger issue of women's roles within Orthodoxy. Rabbi Farber's piece also generated responses from Rabbi Joshua Maroof and R. Raphael Davidovich. Happy reading.
Let me go back a bit.
Before the weekly parshah shiur began last Tuesday, a member of the shiur mentioned the issue of Women's Kriat Hatorah and said, "Clearly this is where the Modern Orthodox community is going. It will be a normative practice in twenty years, don't you think?"
I didn't think so, and told her so.
"But," she argued, "How are we accomodating the young girls who are looking for an outlet within the Orthodox community? Are we just going to push them away? Because if they don't find what they're looking for within Orthodoxy, they're going to look elsewhere." She later sent me the link to Eden Farber's piece.
I'm not so sure. The problem is, the more we try and accommodate, the more the gulf between Orthodoxy and modern society and its social mores grow increasingly pronounced. Eden herself articulated the problem: They give her the prayer for the State of Israel to recite; they ask her to deliver a dvar Torah. But that's not enough for her. She wants to layn and lead the davening.
On one hand, we cannot ignore the desires of these women; they come from a sense of injustice, and a bewilderment at the gulf between the secular world in which they live and the religious world they inhabit. And, we cannot simply follow a Chareidi perspective and tell them to shut themselves off from that world; that's not my worldview, nor is it a realitstic approach.
But this issue, like so many others, demands a sensitive and careful balance. I absolutely reject Rabbi Farber's demand for a "paradigm shift" away from a paradigm firmly based in halachic precedent. At the same time, we should not marginalize or demonize women who do participate in prayer groups or layn before women. It's not an activity that I'd encourage, but certainly not something I'd condemn either.
Why wouldn't I encourage it? After all, if it's not prohibited, and layning gives women a sense of spiritual fulfillment, why not encourage them to read from the Torah before a group of women? My answer, is to look at the facts on the ground.
While it's never fair to apply a generalization to any specific individual, generalizations are often quite accurate.

From where I sit, I don't see the women who participate in these rituals as individuals who submit to halachah and consider halachah the primary driving force in their lives. (Blu Greenberg did say it best.) This expresses itself not only in the way that they dress, but in the places that they eat, and in general in their overall level of frumkeit. (If you're reading this getting increasingly angry, sorry, it's my blog.) The women who I know who do submit to halachah; who are incredibly spiritual and place a primacy on shemirat hamitzvot, by and large aren't interested in Tefillah groups and layning. (Yes, there are exceptions, I know. But remember, I'm generalizing.) I would tell a woman who wants to increase her spirituality: first come to minyan each and every day, morning and night. There's a totally empty ezrat nashim. Learn daf yomi - which tens of women do without fanfare. If you're married, follow the halachot of kissuy rosh - according to any posek you choose - just not yourself.
And then, if you're still not fulfilled, find a group of like-minded and similarly passionate women to layn with.

Hiding Women from Public View. Thoughts on Modesty

In Israel, women have been increasingly finding themselves excluded from public view. I Jerusalem, you might not notice that ads in public places don't have images of women on them, for fear of vandalism or simply antagonizing a powerful economic force. This has led to a counter-campaign, placing ads of pictures of famous Israeli women throughout the city - but not in Chareidi areas. The Burka ladies have been a hot topic of discussion on the blogosphere, garnering a great deal of attention in their attempt not to garner attention. And an Orthodox publication made an international stir when it blurred out none other than US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton last year.
Not all of this is bad, per se. In Israel, because of the Chareidi influence, I can drive on the highway without fear of seeing a billboard of nearly (or completely) naked women. In the US, all bets are off. Mostly unclothed models dot the roads, enticing you to buy deodorant, stop at a mall, or even turn off at the gentlemen's club down the road (there were a bunch of those in Michigan).
And yet, there seems to be a lack of balance, to the point where women, completely clothed, are increasingly unwelcome in the religious public sphere.

The Lindenbaum ad

This past week, in an extended article in the Mussaf Shabbat in Mekor Rishon (the RZ paper of record in Israel), Rav Shlomo Vilk, a rebbe in the Israeli program, wrote a powerful essay about a letter that the seminary received after placing an ad in one of the weekly Alonim (parshah booklets) to attract new students. Commenting on the fact that the ad contained pictures of women, the letter writing wrote,

"מי שרואה תמונות של נשים יכול להימשך אחר תמונות כאלה, ובמקום להיטהר מדברי התורה הוא יכול ללכת הפוך". לכן, "לענ"ד אין לשים תמונות של נשים בעלון קודש ואם אתה רוצה לצאת מספק אתה יכול לפנות לגדולי ישראל בעניין". 

One who views pictures of women could be drawn to such pictures, and instead of being purified by words of Torah, might go in the opposite direction. Therefore, in my humble opinion, one should not place pictures of women in a holy booklet, and if you want to avoid any possibility of doubt, you should turn to the Torah gedolim regarding this matter. 

Rabbi Vilk did not mince words. In an extensive essay which is difficult to summarize (but I will anyway), he suggests that our job in life is not to see the world around us as "object" which we "use", but instead as blessings which must be cherished and honored. He writes,

רבנים החוששים מתמונת אישה בעלון פרשת שבוע גורמים לזילות האישה, להפיכתה לחפץ, להשתקתה הסופית – ולהפיכת האיש באותה עת לחלש ונרפה, לחסר אונים בכל המובנים. הם גורמים לכך שכשייראו אישה או תמונתה במרחב הציבורי כולו, ייראו רק פריצות וערווה, ולא אדם. כמה נורא הדבר.

Rabbis that worry that about a picture of a woman in a parshah booklet themselves cause the degradation of women. They transform her into an object and silencing her with finality, and transform the man at that time in a weak and sluggish figure - helpless according to any definition. They are causing the reality that when a woman, or her picture are seen in public, only sexuality and depravity are seen, and not a human being. This is a terrible thing.

Like I said, he doesn't mince words.
We find a reference to the notion of hiding women from public view twice in the book of Bereishit, each time in an attempt to protect the woman involved from exposure to the public, for fear of her being harmed. The most famous example (do you know where the other is?) occurs when Ya'akov returns with his large family from Charan, in the famous meeting with his brother Eisav. The Torah relates how Ya'akov took his "two wives, his two maids and his eleven children and crossed the Yabok pass". (Bereishit 32:23). Rashi asks the obvious question: What about Dinah? What happened to her? Rashi explains,

"He had placed her and locked her in a cabinet so that Eisav would not lay his eyes upon her. For this Ya'akov was punished, that he held her back from his brother, perhaps she would have returned him to the proper path. Instead, she fell into the hands of Shechem."

It seems even ages ago, that trying to hide women from public view in an attempt to protect them causes more harm than good.
I'm not sure that I agree with Rabbi Vilk's formulation (he actually calls the removal of women's images from the public sphere a form of reverse pornography - a little strong for me), but I'm troubled with the direction that things are moving in. I've written before about women who refuse to allow pictures to be taken of them out of a sense of modesty. Why should it be inappropriate for a woman to deliver a Torah lecture to a mixed group? It's not? Why then are so many women - and not just Chareidi women - unwilling to speak in just such a setting?
This is clearly not a black and white issue. Finding the proper balance between overexposure on the one hand, and objectification on the other, is not a simple equation. It takes subtlety and nuance, and a sense of halachah and the nature of the community seeking that balance. What worked in Michigan (not the billboards) might not work in Yad Binyamin, and certainly won't work in Meah Shearim (nor should it). But, as the father of two daughters, the trend of forcing women from public view is starting to trouble me.

Women, Gemara Learning, and Making Babies

Five years ago, a young couple moved into Oak Park and joined our shul. He was a Doctoral candidate at the University of Michigan, she also a graduate student in Advanced Jewish Studies at Yeshiva University. After a short period it became clear that this couple, and especially the young woman, had a great deal to offer the community, and I asked her if she would be willing to give a shiur to the women of the community on a regular basis.
She readily accepted the challenge, and for the past five years, (now Dr.) Shana Schick taught the only women's Gemara shiur in the metro Detroit area.
I, of course, never attended the shiur. But walking the halls of shul on Sundays, I'd sometimes peek into the Beit Midrash to see a group of women around the table, focused in concentration on a sugya, and get a deep sense of pride. Without fanfare and with a minimum of controversy, we were offering women yet another avenue to deepen their spiritual connection to Judaism.
I'm reminded of this scene because of recent news reports that Shana has finally defended her dissertation, and received her PhD in Talmud this summer. I know this because it's been a big news item recently. It appeared first in the JTA, then on Jpost and Ha'aretz.
“Orthodoxy has long emphasized the value of the study of Talmud,” Schick told JTA in an interview. “But Talmud study, which in yeshivot is the central focus of the religious duty to learn Torah, is still rarely emphasized as a vital part of women’s education.”
While it's a great achievement, hopefully she'll be the first of enough women earning advanced degrees in Talmud that they don't make the news. I'm really happy for Dr. Shick, and know that she'll make an important contribution to Torah learning here in Israel.
Yet, I found a thread of comments on the Jpost article about her saddening and disappointing. (It's dangerous to follow comment threads. The anonymity allows people to spout in truly disturbing ways. But I'll wade in nonetheless.) A commenter wrote,
this woman in 30 and has acheived a doctorate in Talmud, but it seems she is not married, and has not brought any children into the world (if I am mistaken, my apologies)...is this really so meritorious?
First of all, as many other comments noted, she is married and has been blessed with two children. But that fact is irrelevant to the larger point: How does her motherhood prevent her from learning Torah? How does it prevent her from earning a doctorate? Had she earned her PhD in biology, would anyone have batted an eye? Only when a woman chooses to engage in serious Torah study does it raise the "question" of whether she's fulfilling her duties as a mother.
I fear that the underlying attitude of the comment represents a more insidious and dangerous attitude that I think affects more of our community than we would like to admit. Too many (and I think this includes women as well, and many in the Modern Orthodox community) see women primarily as baby machines first, and anything else second. To people with this attitude, women's primary (and perhaps only) mission is to raise Jewish children after the Holocaust. (Somehow, Hitler always finds his way into these discussions, as if a woman learning Gemara isn't properly fighting the Nazis.)
But, by suggesting that women serve as baby-making-machines, we minimize the contributions that women can and must make to society, especially now that they have the opportunities to do so. Moreover, what about women who cannot have children? What about women who haven't found their "bashert"? Are they supposed to curl up in a corner, and hibernate until they find a proper sperm donor? This destructive attitude, to my mind, makes the shidduch crisis far worse than it needs to be, because it conveys the clear message to our young women that unless they're married and popping out kids, they're really just wasting their time.
And that's exactly what many of them do. Instead of growing, developing, working, earning another degree and building the world, they fall into such a state of despair that they're not doing what they "should" be, that they don't do anything meaningful at all. Either they really do "curl up," (at least figuratively), or they figure, "If I'm really just wasting time before I get married, I might as well have fun," frittering away potentially productive years, and instead of earning a PhD in their early thirties, find themselves in the very same place they were when they finished college, only they're not ten years older (and not much wiser).
So Ladies, contrary to the foolish commenters on the interwebs and their ilk (of which there are many), I hope you reject the attitude that insists that you're mainly baby machines. With God's help, you either have or will be blessed with the gift of children, but the advancements that women have made over the past hundred years don't just give you rights. They bring responsibilities as well.
So start learning Gemara (if that interests you). Or Chumash. Or biology. Join a shul (and pay membership dues.) Get on the Finance committee or the Social Action committee of your local Jewish Day school's board. Encourage your friends to do something meaningful for your community. Join the board of your local JCC. Or the public library. Or your local food bank. Get another degree - in Talmud - or in whatever interests you. (Note: All of these suggestions apply to single men as well.)
But never allow yourself to fall into the baby-machine trap. Because, as disgusting as it is, I fear that too many Modern Orthodox women have allowed a backwards, and truly disturbing mindset, to creep into their psyches, preventing them from becoming the women they can and should truly be.

The Role of Women: This Week's Brouhaha

This week, the yishuv of Eilon Moreh conducted municipal elections to pick a "secretary." To keep keep things straight, "secretary" in this context is the head of the yishuv, involved in everything from construction to garbage collection to social programming. During the buildup to the election, a woman in the yishuv approached the rav, Rav Elyakim Levanon, wondering whether he felt that she should run for the position, as she felt that she had energy and passion that could benefit her fellow residents. Rav Levanon, in an answer that he published in the local Shabbat newsletter, answered, "No" (using the language that it's אינו ראוי - "not appropriate") for two reasons: first of all, a woman should not be appointed to a position of שררה - or "dominion"; in addition, because municipal meetings last until all hours of the night, these types of meetings could lead to all sorts of issues of modesty and inappropriate interaction between the sexes.
When women's groups (and the Israeli secular media) learned about Rav Levanon's opinion, the firestorm truly erupted. Sure, you can get a small sense of it from the English article on Ynet on this issue, (see also here, where Rav Dor Lior, rav of Kiryat Arba comes to the aid of Rav Levanon, and adds that violence among youth stems from the fact that mothers work outside the home. Ouch.) but when you look at the Hebrew press, it's "full-court press." (Get the pun?) And it's not just left-wing women's groups that are outraged. The head of Emunah Women, not known for it's liberalism, bitterly attacked Rav Levanon's decision.
What's going on? A number of things at the same time.
First of all, we need to put things into perspective. Rav Levanon is the head of a small, very religious yishuv, where people specifically move in order to live a certain way of life. He didn't issue his opinion for Tel Aviv, but for Elon Moreh. If you've ever been there, especially during the "hard" years when residents were getting killed on the roads to and from Elon Moreh at an alarming clip, you'd understand the unique nature of the typical Elon Moreh resident and the type of life that he or she wishes to lead. The woman who asked Rav Levanon the question wasn't upset by the answer. She genuinely wanted his opinion, and respected his candid response. If she wanted to run anyway, no one could or would have stopped her.
Secondly, Rav Levanon articulated Torah values. There is an issue of serarah in halachah with regard to women in leadership positions. The fact that many modern poskim allow women to hold leadership positions doesn't make that ideal, and certainly doesn't compel every rabbi to agree with them.
But I think that there's a larger issue lurking slightly below the surface. Rabbanim like Rav Levanon and Rav Lior really represent the leadership of the Religious Zionist community - or at least the right-wing of that community. Halachic opinions such as these raise the (I think well-founded) fear that these leaders have veered so far to the right that it's impossible to tell the difference between Religious Zionism and Hareidi Judaism anymore.
And, as opposed to the residents of the yishuvim (and especially the more right-wing yishuvim), who have no problem with this trend, many middle of the road Religious Zionists wonder: if they no longer have these great rabbis to follow, who will they have to lead them?

Parshat Emor - Men, Women and the Rabbah

Audio Shiur:
Parshat Emor - Men, Women and the Rabbah

The RCA's recent resolution regarding female Orthodox rabbis - namely that they're beyond the pale of Orthodoxy, once again raises the challenging issue of gender in Judaism. We find ourselves torn between modern values and our ancient timeless tradition. We study some of those traditions found at the outset of Emor, and discuss how we struggle with the messages of the pesukim and how they impact our lives.

Click here for the audio link, or listen in the handy audio player supplied below.

Yoatzot Halachah: Good for the Jews?

A few months back, Rabbi Ya’akov Neuberger spoke to the staff of Kol Hamevaser, YU's Jewish studies student journal (see page 12 here). When asked about his feelings on yoatzot halachah, he said:

I think that introducing these programs in our community is unwise. In terms of our community, having yo’atsot hilchatiyyot will serve us poorly in the future because it will create an unnecessary distance between the rav and the women in the community. Having such yo’atsot will eventually communicate that rabbanim do not want to be involved in the concerns of their female congregants and even that they ideally should not be involved in women’s issues and in piskei Halakhah for women.
We have to communicate that rabbanim are and want to be very involved in the full needs of the community, including women’s issues. Obviously, rabbanim have to create venues and formats where if a woman is uncomfortable discussing something directly with the rav, she can find a comfortable way of doing so. But we should not be setting up a system which would create any sense of distance between the rav and his female congregants.
In addition, much of the involvement that a rav has in his congregants’ lives comes through the questions that people raise with him. If a rav will not have access to these women’s she’eilos, he is not going to be aware of any shalom bayis issues in a family or of family pressures, ambitions, and aspirations. Having yo’atsot, then, will create a distance not only between the rav and individual woman, but between the rav and the entire family and its needs.
That is why I believe having yo’atsot is serving us poorly, and if they are successful, it will take us in an undesirable direction.

Clearly, Rav Neuberger makes an important point. Taking an area of halachah out of the hands of the community rabbi,and placing it into the hands of a third party can truly tie a rabbi’s hands. It would be like telling a general practitioner, “You know what, you handle every aspect of your patient’s health, except reproductive issues. (Actually, that’s pretty much what the health industry does. How can you treat someone holistically if you’re excluded from an integral aspect of their overall health?) The same is true for a rabbi. Reproductive and niddah shailot are, for many families, core issues that they struggle with in their lives. It can be almost a monthly struggle – the bedikot, the questions, and the emotional and spiritual tension that these challenges bring. A rabbi aware of these issues and involved with them, not only can give guidance on the specific questions, but can also serve as an anchor for the families in their struggle, offering reassurance and support. And, in the happy cases where the struggles lead to the birth of a child, the rabbi has been a critical element in the process, and can use that joy to springboard the family to even greater spiritual growth.
When you introduce a yoetzet to the community, the rabbi finds himself excluded from this entire halachic branch of family life, making his overall job of ministering to the family’s needs that much more difficult. So a yoetzet – as great as she may be – does raise issues for a community rabbi.
But we also need to look at the facts on the ground. The yoetzet program has been an undeniable success, with yoaztot halachah addressing thousands and thousands of questions in the communities in which they serve. Clearly, women are turning to the yoatzot and not to their rabbi for their reproductive questions. The question is why.
I think this trend has less to do with the yaotzot than it does the changing nature of the Jewish community and the modern rabbinate.
Years ago, the community viewed its rabbis as figureheads: austere, serious and formal - symbols of respect and authority. That posture brings with it obvious benefits. Rav Neuberger is a Talmid Chacham of the first degree; his expertise in the laws of Niddah make his advise and council sought-after across the world. He truly serves as the rav for Rabbanim in this and other areas. But he represents the type of Rav who takes a more formal, distinguished approach. While the rabbinate he describes follows a time-honored rabbinic model, rabbinic roles have shifted fundamentally in recent years.
When I interviewed for my former position at the Young Israel of Oak Park, among the questions my shul asked me during my interview process was whether I would participate in a shul canoe trip and other similar events. I said that I’d be happy to participate in canoe trips and similar events, and indeed I did. I was a fixture at many communal social programs from the canoe trip to the shul barbecues to the motzei Shabbat bowling program. I tried to be – and I think rightfully so – accessible and open, but even more importantly, friendly not only to the men of the shul, but also to the women and children. I wanted them to feel comfortable with me in social situations, and not be distant, aloof or intimidating.
These efforts bore fruit. They brought me into people’s homes, spurred wonderful relationships and critical conversations. But let’s be honest: it’s hard to speak to someone as a friend when you know that last week they checked your underwear to determine if your vaginal emission was bloody or not. You can’t have it both ways: if you want to be the rabbi who every woman feels comfortable sending her bedikot to, then you can’t be the same person who will strike up a conversation during a shul hike. And if that relationship is more important, then it’s not reasonable for a rabbi to wonder why women don’t feel comfortable submitting their bedikah cloths for inspection. Most women don’t have a close personal relationship with their gynecologists; they don’t schmooze with them at kiddush on Shabbat, and they don’t listen to them speak from the pulpit every week.
That’s why yoatzot have been such a strong success in the Modern Orthodox community. In becoming great communal rabbis, we have inadvertently shut those same women off from access to us as advisers in the laws of family purity. Sure, we’re willing to answer any question. We are able to draw a firm line between a bedikah cloth and a ball game and not feel awkward. But is it really reasonable to expect most women to be able to make that same clean break, and not think about her underwear when the rabbi walks up to greet her in the grocery store?
You cannot have it both ways. The austere and distant rav has the benefit of a level of authority and distance sometimes critical to his position, nowhere more than in hilchot Niddah. But the close, intimate congregational rabbi can bring spirituality to his congregants in ways that the rav never could.
It's not a question of which "type" of rabbi is better. Both play necessary, critical roles in Jewish life today. Some congregants don't want the rabbi to be their friend. Some want their rav (I think of the two words, rav and rabbi as representing different archetypes) to give shiurim, pasken shailot, and represent the honor and glory of the Torah. But others would find that rabbi unapproachable, and would shy away from Judaism due to a sense of alienation and distance.
If the price for that closeness to our community is the ability to be involved in every question, that’s a price we must be willing to pay. And we must acknowledge that with the new, casual familiarity so common in the rabbinate, our women need other outlets to answer their halachic questions.
Yoatzot halachah fill that need perfectly.