The invitation to write “From the Other Side of the Mechitzah” is an opportunity to observe and yet remain apart, to be involved in a discussion and yet not be a full participant. Paradoxically, the view from the “other side” is sometimes simultaneously clearer and yet more clouded. And this is true no matter from which side of the divide one writes.
Surely the most significant thing to notice from my side of the mechitzah is the current proliferation of opportunities for advanced Talmud learning for women. Not only are the institutions dedicated to women’s higher learning of texts considered part of mainstream Orthodoxy, but programs leading to formal certification as to’anot rabbaniyot (rabbinical pleaders) or yo’atzot halakha (halakhic advisors) are becoming accepted and respected. The implications of this are vast and far-reaching. In the modern Orthodox community, we are long past the point when women learning Talmud was controversial, and we will soon reach the point where it will be commonplace to have in our midst women who are experts in various fields of halakha and “learning.” This is a great blessing for our generation.
But somehow these programs remind me that years ago, I had written that the jury is still out on women’s prayer groups. I think the verdict is now coming in (although some will certainly want to appeal). Of course, if these groups had done nothing more than meet the spiritual needs of their participants and provided opportunities for growth in Torah while remaining within the boundaries of halakha, they would have been a success. Indeed, this has surely been the case on a personal level with regard to many individual women, and I do not minimize it at all. But I am speaking of communal success, of impact within the Torah community, of institutional importance and acceptance. I fear that relative to these standards, they have not lived up to their potential, and the cause is neither oppression nor undermining by those who do not support their goals. In fact, the mean-spirited campaign against them may have actually contributed to their extended viability.
I shall discuss in a moment what I think are the reasons for the limited communal success and why I was reminded of this issue at this time. But let me say, first, why I have come to this opinion, especially inasmuch as I had originally thought that they might have had great promise. The number of tefillah groups has hardly increased dramatically over the years. I teach in a yeshivah where all the young women take the same Talmud courses as the young men, and yet when talking with students I find virtually zero interest among them for even trying out women’s prayer groups. I have not made a scientific study, but I have the distinct impression that few of the women who attend the most serious advanced study programs—especially in Israel—take much interest in these prayer groups.
That does not mean that these groups have not enriched the religious lives of many of their participants. Indeed, I have been moved by women describing the positive impact of coming into close contact with a sefer Torah for the first time as they were called to read from it. Such positive impact cannot be dismissed lightly. Women who dance with fervor at a wedding simcha have every reason to do so on Simchat Torah, and there is no reason for them not to dance with a sefer Torah. Certainly there is no logic for mothers coming to a mid-morning reading of Megillat Esther to hear it read by the lone man in the room rather than by capable women. Why, then, my hesitancy about the prayer groups?
There may be many reasons for the lack of growth of these groups, but two stand out for me, one positive and the other negative. I hesitate to mention the negative, because I do not mean to impugn the motivation of the serious women whose search for religious growth has brought them to these groups. But there is, I believe, a contrived quality of some of what goes on at these groups that undermines its otherwise genuine character. I refer most specifically to the berakha said at the Torah reading and the pseudorepetition of the Amidah done at many of the groups. I am not referring here to some specific halakhic objection—let us posit that the requisite halakhic technical requirements have been met—but to the way I think it detracts from how the group speaks to women involved in serious Torah learning.
Everyone agrees that the berakha, Asher Bahar Banu (“who has chosen us….”) that is said before the Torah reading cannot be said at these groups because no minyan is present. But there is a berakha that sounds just like it—one that has the exact same words—that everyone (men and women) say each morning. So some women do not say it in the morning and wait to say it at the time of their aliyah so that it looks like the real berakha. But Torah cannot be studied in the morning before the daily berakha is said. So we have women assiduously refraining from studying or reading any Torah scholarship the whole morning—sometimes the whole day before a minhah service—so that they can appear to be saying the same berakha that men do. Surely this cannot sound right to people who are engaged in serious Torah study. A similar reaction relates to the hazzanit waiting to say her private Amidah after everyone has finished their own so that selections from the prayers can be sung communally in what appears to be hazarat ha–shatz (the repetition of the leader). What is wrong in just singing together as a form of religious expression? The fact that leaders of these groups have not been willing to deal with these and similar issues undermines their appeal. It is not enough to simply say that technical objections cannot be made against these practices.
“Talmud Torah Keneged Kulam, the study of Torah outweighs them all.”
The positive reason relates to the explosion of serious Torah study for women, and that is why this all came to mind at this time. Having contact—physical and personal—with a sefer Torah can truly be a moving experience. But such contact cannot compare with the opportunity to grapple with Torah that is newly available. I think that is why these groups do not appeal to many younger women.
My guess is that these groups will not grow further unless they address these issues and align themselves more with serious Torah study. On an institutional level, JOFA should now turn to more serious endorsement and encouragement of these advanced learning programs. One possibility might be the development of a Society of Learned Women, parallel somehow to, say, the Society of Actuaries, with graduated exams, syllabi and ratings, giving women a goal-oriented structured learning program. While prayer groups have probably done an important job of raising consciousness in the past, conscientious learning might now be more the required order of the day. Talmud Torah keneged kulam, the study of Torah outweighs them all (Mishnah Pe’ah, Chapter 1).