The following letters were received in response to our last issue, “From the Other Side of the Mechitzah.”
Compassion and Sensitivity in Pesak Halakha
Considering our differing positions, it was not unexpected that my contribution to this summer’s JOFA Journal should immediately follow that of Rabbi Professor Daniel Sperber. My respected friend and colleague argued that sensitivity and compassion are virtues in pesak. Surprisingly, perhaps, I agree. I have no problem with these qualities determining what questions we ask, and what issues we choose to reinvestigate and reevaluate. But I do reject empathy and sympathy—rather than emes (truth of analysis)—as determinants in what answers we give. Unfortunately, when it comes to feminist issues, too many distinguished members of the Rabbinate are guilty of “Ahava mekalkelet et ha-shura—Love/compassion often clouds one’s judgment and conduct” (Bereshit Rabba 55:11; cited by Rashi to Gen. 22:3). These rabbis are lauded by some for their “enlightened” and “sensitive” rulings. But all too often, hiding behind these glowing reviews is very poor pesak—lacking solid scholarship and documentation, clear reasoning, and insightful analysis.
To justify his position, Prof. Sperber invokes the tragic instances of mamzerut and iggun as precedents, where halakha itself instructs the posek to be lenient, if legally possible. In actuality, however, these cases are the exceptions that prove the rule. The rishonim and aharonim explain that biblically a doubtful mamzer is not prohibited, and that determining a spouse’s death does not always require two witnesses. Rabbis of the Talmud were the ones who were stringent; but, at the same time, they instructed decisors to search for grounds for leniency. What’s more, the real uniqueness of iggun and mamzerut is that we follow the basic halakha—even if in other circumstances we might have taken a stringent position into consideration.
As a practical example of the use of sensitivity, Prof. Sperber justifies women’s aliyot by suggesting that kevod ha-beriyot can be utilized to set aside kevod ha-tsibbur. An in-depth survey of the responsa literature makes it clear, however, that this approach is seriously flawed for a host of reasons. Four follow: (1) It is illogical that the honor of the individual should have priority over that of the community. (2) Kevod ha-beriyot requires an objective standard – not a subjective one. (3) The “dishonor” must result from an act—not from something that was not done. (4) Kevod ha-beriyot can only temporarily set aside a rabbinic ordinance, not uproot it completely.
Indeed, sensitivity and compassion may well be virtues in pesak—but emes is inviolable.
Rabbi Aryeh Frimer
Rehovot
Though I enjoyed Professor Sperber’s encouraging article in the summer 2004 issue very much, I think, unfortunately, that not all the halakha he discusses is as compassionate as he suggests or as we would wish. In particular, Professor Sperber states that there is no such thing as a safek mamzer (uncertain mamzer). From what I have studied on this issue, this is so from the Torah law (d’Oraita), but Rabbinic law (d’Rabbanan) decided otherwise. See, for example, Rambam, Laws of Forbidden Relations 15:21 and Shulhan Arukh EH 4:24. It is because of the problem of a safek mamzer that in the numerous responsa in which rabbis seek methods to allow a possible mamzer to enter the community of Israel, they look for multiple reasons (safek s’feka) to cast doubt on the mamzerut. It is stated in many responsa that though the safek mamzer is allowed, according to Torah law, the Rabbis have forbidden such a child, and thus additional reasons to allow him/her are sought.
Debby Koren
Jerusalem
Daniel Sperber responds to Debby Koren:
Thank you for your comment. But what I tried to indicate was the direction in which the halakha should be determined. The fact that the Rabbis tried to modify their own humrot (stringencies) with regard to safek mamzer and sought additional techniques to ease the problem caused by his/her status only strengthens the point I was trying to make.
I would further refer to the TAZ (17th century rabbinic authority) to Yoreh De’ah 141, subsection 2, who writes as follows: “Every place where there is a reason (sevara) to rule “permittingly” or prohibitingly” (le-heter o-le–issur), one should tend to leniency, for we hold that in all cases we do not establish a prohibition (issur) out of doubt other than when the prohibition has been established”.
This passage is frequently cited in the responsa literature, and surely gives the posek–decisor clear direction.
Conscientious Consciousness
I enjoyed the variety of articles in the summer 2004 issue of the newsletter, “From the Other Side of the Mechitzah”. I have long felt that many women, given the opportunity, might approach tefillah differently than men. This may be one reason that a twice monthly Shabbat minhah women’s tefillah group felt stiff and contrived. All of the participants had come to davening as adults. We modeled what we knew by observing “the other side of the mechitzah”. Our davening didn’t feel natural. After meeting and davening for a number of months, we abandoned the davening and began sharing the third meal of Shabbat and giving divrei Torah.
What has been more satisfying is the annual women’s Simchat Torah gathering organized by my Shabbat women’s study group. Each year over the past four years, it has had a different feel. For three years it was hosted by a single synagogue, although under different rabbis. The first year we were given our own space. First we davened, then we danced. Forty women joined in dancing the seven hakafot.One of the women in the study group had composed a niggun in honor of the dancing. The ability to create a women’s space to celebrate with a Torah was powerful and profound.
The following two years were less fulfilling for different reasons. One year we were unable to dance with a Torah and so danced with humashim. The following year, we had a Torah, but the rabbi insisted we keep the women’s energy in the communal room. Ultimately, we realized that the creation of the energy between women was a significant part of our celebration with the Torah.
This year we met in a private home. The singing and dancing were spirited, shared across generations by teens as well as women in their 70’s. This was new for the older women and they were invigorated. The voices of the women blended and harmonized; the melody of song and the joy of dance were inseparable. This essentially feminine energy was dynamic and spiritually uplifting. It is this experience we seek when women daven together; one that is spontaneous, natural and coheres with traditional meaning.
Sari Horovitz
Denver, Colorado
Joel Wolowelsky’s letter, which focused on the issue of berakhot and format of women’s tefillah, brings to mind a student of the Internet asking whether or not commerce should be conducted in DOS or Windows. It is so beside the point, and so outdated an issue as to appear to have missed the entire Internet revolution while plugging in the monitor.
Women’s tefillah groups have long ago resolved the issue of format and berakhot. They resolved the issue by deciding that each tefillah will have its own character, its own “posek” and each will “do its own thing.” Some say berakhot, leaving out the berakha during the morning tefillah; more and more do not. (Since Joel Wolowelsky’s point was, long ago already, well taken.) It is a non-issue.
The number of women’s tefillah groups is probably not growing. It no longer needs to. Why? Because the groups have achieved their goal, better and more thoroughly then any of us involved in the early days could have hoped for.
- They are fact on the ground for Simchat Torah and Purim. Period. There are now well over a hundred groups that meet around the world for those holidays. They are, with or without knowing it, a direct outcome of the women’s tefillah movement.
- They have spawned a new generation of women who have taken up the mantel of the “Mendel Shapiro minyanim.” For many of us, that’s what we really wanted anyway even if we couldn’t have formulated our desire concretely.
- They have become an option, throughout much of the modern orthodox community—for bat mitzvah, aufruf and baby naming, filling the hole many women felt in life cycle rituals.
- None of us involved in the early days could possibly have known which element of women’s tefillah, the inherent education, the comfort level with synagogue skills, the confidence they build or the new-found commitment they engender—was the most crucial. None of us could have presumed to suggest where this innovation would lead.
Now we know.
Questioning ritual minutia or the current number of regularly-meeting groups is irrelevant and misses the point. Women’s tefillah groups have forever transformed the horizon of the Orthodox women’s prayer experience in ways far more powerfully than I, for one, would have anticipated.
Bat Sheva Marcus
Riverdale, New York
Joel Wolowelsky responds:
I cannot offer an informed opinion on whether in fact the founders of women prayer groups never hoped that their enterprise would evolve into important communal institutions or whether they are disappointed that this was not to be the case. But I do think that it is far from obvious that women’s Purim megillah readings were a direct outcome of these groups. The megillah readings developed first in the context of serious women’s learning programs; they had full halakhic legitimacy and the endorsement of serious halakhic personalities. I think they would have spread much more quickly had they not been confused with the prayer groups being debated at the time.
I made no claim that women involved in serious learning programs would not be interested in participating in public prayer, and I certainly do not maintain that position. Indeed, serious Torah study drives one to study and pray with others to share these religious experiences. But such individuals would be drawn only to communal prayers that have authenticity. That would include traditional minyanim (in which receiving an aliyah is a very small part of the total prayer experience for any participant) and women’s prayer groups which are committed to exploring new opportunities for religious growth that are available in the absence of a halakhic minyan. That might certainly include use of a sefer Torah, but it surely will exclude anything that could be interpreted (or misinterpreted) as mimicry.
I had not mentioned new minyanim like Shira Hadasha before as I had not then formed any firm opinion about them— and still have not. But as they have been mentioned, let me say that their emergence should make us realize that discussing why the original women’s prayer groups did not blossom is important. Those who do not understand the past wind up repeating their mistakes.
No doubt there will be criticism of these new minyanim. If their sponsors react in the spirit of some past debates—“we do our own thing and you do yours”—then they can expect the same evolution into a few stand-alone minyanim that have little communal impact (as much as they might be important and rewarding to their individual participants). On the other hand, if they address these criticisms and make adjustments when necessary, they may yet find that a very important new institution in the Orthodox community has been created. This is hardly a non-issue.