Volume 8 Number 88 Produced: Mon Aug 23 23:27:35 1993 Subjects Discussed In This Issue: Giving up on Orthodoxy [Anthony Fiorino] Women and Minyanim [Leah S. Reingold] ---------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Anthony Fiorino <fiorino@...> Date: Thu, 12 Aug 1993 17:06:36 -0400 (EDT) Subject: Giving up on Orthodoxy from Leah S. Reingold > A final point: several people have objected to my earlier assertion that > many women are leaving Orthodoxy because they are being held back from > the type of religious opportunities (learning, laining, semicha, etc) > that they crave. I contend that such women are not hooked up to this > list to speak for themselves, having given up on traditional avenues. . > . . I have spoken PERSONALLY with scores of women from campuses around > the country who were raised to be Orthodox, but who were able to advance > far in the secular world, wanted parallel opportunities in the Jewish > world, and therefore left Orthodoxy for precisely the reasons that I > outlined earlier. I have a mix of reactions to these comments; they are a bit contradictory. My immediate reaction is to feel that it is terrible; why should anyone feel "forced out" of Orthodoxy? But then I thought about what kind of circmstances would force me to give up Orthodoxy, and it occured to me that the circumstances would have to quite extreme. So I thought, perhaps one can simply dismiss as marginally affiliated people (men or women) who leave Orthodoxy because of such dissatisfactions. After all, if someone truly believes in Orthodoxy, then to give it up would simply be incompatable with their beliefs about the world and about G-d. The demographics indicate that there is an ongoing return to traditional Judaism (see Returning to Tradition, M. Herbert Danzger, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989 for a sociological study of the baal t'shuva movement) and the number returning to Orthodoxy exceeds, probably substantially, the number leaving. Thus, if many more find in Orthoddoxy something deeply satisfying rather than something deeply disturbing, then perhaps the "patient" is not quite as sick as others might think. This is, more or less, the same Orthodoxy which was declared dead by non- halachic Judaism 50 years ago (see the symposium entitled "If Orthodoxy is the Answer, What is the Question?" from Moment magazine a few years ago). It is precisely by maintaining its norms that Orthodoxy has attained its current strength. If individuals are lost, that is very sad on an individual basis, but long before there was a Conservative movement, there were Jews who left observance, and the suggestion was never implemented that halachah be changed to save such people. In fact, part of me feels the reaction is somewhat appropriate. As some of the more radical proposals have come across mail-jewish (hints that perhaps women should be rabbis, women should have aliyot), I have found myself thinking "but there is a variety of Judaism which provides all of this. Why attempt to change what isn't willing or able to change, when one can simply affiliate with a different movement?" As an example -- I would not bother attempting to put demands on Lakewood or Torah v'Daas to introduce secular studies into their curricula. I would simply attend a yeshiva which had an open attitude towards such studies. (Although one might say that all of my options are "Orthodox," I don't know that the people from Lakewood would agree) Why attack RIETS for not admitting women? They are as interested in admitting women as Lakewood is in introducing an advanced English literature course into the kollel. (As an aside -- what about R. Halivni's new yeshiva? Is he admitting women? There's at least a chance of that happening, versus the zero chance that RIETS will accept women.) I am not suggesting that people leave Orthodoxy, chas v'shalom. But ultimately, one must weigh one's commitment to halachah and to the institutions of Orthodoxy against one's desire for things to be different. I feel a little bit that this is an attempt at strong-arming. One doesn't determine halachah by threat. To say "unless things change, x number of people are going to leave Orthodoxy" -- this is a threat. How far is one willing to take such a threat? What other dinim might we revise while we've got a gun held to the head of Orthodoxy? This whole methodology is problematic, even if the point is 100% correct in this case, because it can be used by any group with any perceived complaint against halacha -- "we're going to leave Orthodoxy unless . . . " The point I am not quite understanding, I think, is the state of being attached to Orthodoxy, yet disagreeing so vehemently with it. Feeling that Orthodoxy is right, but simultaneously feeling that much of it is wrong. Identifying with Orthodoxy, yet being unwilling to conform one's world view to the world view of halacha; wanting instead the halachah to conform to one's world view. It seems to me that there comes a point, if one begins changing Orthodoxy to conform to the desires of groups of Jews, that the entity called Orthodoxy will no longer be Orthodox. What I mean is that the authoritative nature of Orthodoxy as a way of being Jewish (meaning, being Orthodox is the only correct way to live as a Jew) rests not upon simply the title "Orthodoxy;" there must be an integrity and emet (truth) within the system. Though G-d may laugh when a Sage exclaims "Lo bashamayim hi" (it [the halacha] is not in heaven) (bava metzia 59), that doesn't mean that we are free to create halachah in any way we see fit, as individuals or as a community. The people to be trusted with finding the balance between ridigity and flexibility are the poskim, those qualified to give authoritative psak. And if they read the sources differently than I do, then I have to live with that. Eitan Fiorino <fiorino@...> ---------------------------------------------------------------------- From: <leah@...> (Leah S. Reingold) Date: Wed, 18 Aug 93 18:44:08 -0400 Subject: Women and Minyanim Mr. Teitelman writes: >"Official recognition" in the context of prayer would seemingly be >best defined by HKBH's [the Holy One, blessed be He - Ed.] acceptance >of one's prayer. The Rambam (cited in my earlier posting as well as in >Eitan Fiorino's) states that "public prayer is always heard" and does >not limit his remarks to only the prayers of those *men* present among >the tzibbur. Accordingly, it seems that a woman *is* officially >recognized. Moreover, one's "function" in a house of worship is *not* >to be the chazan [cantor - Ed.], ba'al keri'ah [reader from the Torah >- Ed.], or gabbai ["collector" - one who helps supervising the reading >of the Torah and in calling people to the Torah, announcing donations, >etc. - Ed.]; it is to pray. While "official recognition" and >"function" may be *perceived* by others in terms of a public role in >the synagogue, I think that we should keep in mind "lifnei mi atah >omed" -- before whom we (lit. you) stand -- when we evaluate >institutions of prayer. In my post, which said, "...a minyan that does not officially recognize her presence," the term "recognize" did not apply to G-d. I meant (and stated) that it is the minyan that does not recognize women in any official capacity; I did not even touch on the issue of whose prayer is acceptable to G-d, nor could I possibly know such a thing. Furthermore, although a person's function while davening is primarily to pray to G-d, any PUBLIC prayer necessitates various other functions, including laining, leading davening, being gabbai, etc. These added duties and associated additional prayers are precisely what differentiates public prayer from private. Therefore, a person who attends a minyan, but who is not welcome to perform any function except to daven privately, cannot possibly be considered to be fully recognized in and by that minyan. [Note: I suspect that part of the possible communication problem concerning this issue is reflected in the statement above about what differentiates public prayer from private. Is it being the one who lains, who leads davening, is gabbai etc? Or is it hearing the Torah reading, hearing the repeatition of the Amidah, the Kaddish and Kedusha? I believe that it is in the answer to this question that the religious difference, or lack thereof, of a woman praying with a minyan rather than alone lies. Mod.] It seems to me, therefore, to be a mockery of the advantages of 'tefilla be-tzibbur' to state that a woman ought to prefer to daven with such a minyan instead of to daven alone or with a women's tefilla group, since there is (and can be, in most cases) no religious difference between her davening with said minyan and davening alone. In response to the argument, "but public prayer is always heard by G-d," this is insufficient reason. While Rambam states that "public prayer is always heard," he does not say that private prayer is not heard. Indeed, private prayer (invented by a woman, no less!) is required at some points even during public davening--during the amidah, for example. Mr. Teitelman continues: >Along similar lines, it is certainly very noble and considerate of a >man who would otherwise not attend minyan to respond to a need for a >"tenth". (And __notwithstanding my comments above and other possible >objections to women's tefilla groups__, it is likewise noble and >considerate of a woman who would would otherwise not attend tefilla- >group to respond to a need for a ba'alat keri'ah.) Certainly we must >praise the actions of people who help out their brothers (and sisters) >when they are in need. But the "religiously conscientious" -- and it >is to this group which I addressed my original remarks -- don't wait >for a personal invitation to attend synagogue when and only when they >are needed as one of the ten or to serve in some public role. There is >a special merit of being one of the first ten at shul as well as >serving the congregation, but this is *not* what tefilla be-tzibbur is >all about. Sadly, it seems that the "religiously conscientious" to whom Mr. Teitelman refers are few and far between. So much so, for instance, that I have yet to hear of a shul that has never had to make a phone call to get someone to make a minyan or lain or give a d'var Torah or whatever. It is all well and good to talk of an ideal world in which people attend davening because it is the right thing to do. Realistically, however, peer pressure plays a major role in attracting people to shul. My point, however, was not that peer pressure is some wonderful attribute of public prayer. I meant only to point out that the lack of such pressure on women in an Orthodox minyan is one factor that leads those women to attend other tefilla groups. In fact, in minyanim that assign devrei Torah to women, for example, those women feel peer pressure to attend (and do so) nearly as much as do their brethren. Women are not insensitive to the silent message that they receive from many Orthodox minyanim that they are welcome as long as they keep the children quiet, don't sing too loudly, and do not try to participate in any public roles. This message is precisely what gives many Orthodox girls the idea that they don't really need to daven at all (a depressing phenomenon noted earlier in this list), while their Conservative sisters are as interested the boys in mastering the week's laining, leading davening, etc. Of course, ideally children would be interested in such things because they are important for Jews to do. In the real world, however, children thrive on encouragement from others, and if they are pushed down in some medium, they will lose interest. Young Orthodox girls can see from toddlerhood that their age-equivalent male acquaintances are given public synagogue roles (e.g. end of musaf, opening ark, etc.) and encouraged to take a public part in davening. Not only does it seem to me as if this must make an impression on them, but several readers have commented that these girls are discouraged from davening in general. This is much like the discussion of teaching women Judaica without allowing them to receive semicha. People can explain forever about how the real point of learning is to learn, and that any resulting respect or academic degree is simply an unimportant coincidence. Realistically, however, the lack of respect, encouragement, or recognition makes one's endeavors far more difficult--in some cases, too difficult to continue. Women are not respected in Jewish learning even enough to be able to purchase religious texts without smirks from the cashier; the lack of respect is a real force, and cannot be ignored even by those who believe that all learning is for the sake of learning itself. Similarly, it is clear to me why many women would choose to attend a women's tefilla group in which they are needed instead of a minyan in which they are not. Leah S. Reingold ----------------------------------------------------------------------
End of Volume 8 Issue 88