Last month I was in New York for the joyous occasion of my nephew’s wedding. At the lunch after the aufruf, his friends from yeshivah made heartfelt speeches, poking fun at his English accent and sharing their Jewish knowledge.
The bride wasn’t present —the tradition in their Modern Orthodox community — but several of the yeshivah friends’ wives were there, young women, some already with babies. One of them got up to speak. Her dress was modest, her hair hidden under a sheitel, but her speech was the most accomplished and confident of all, fizzing with knowledge and insight, and happy to challenge the men who giggled at a reference to the happy couple’s love life.
Back in the UK, the battle over women’s equality in Orthodox synagogues is generally played out over our role in synagogue services. Why can’t women play a more active role, what is the problem with women leading services and being called up alongside men? Male power is about visibility and space, women reduced to mere spectators at our services yet not allowed to hold equal services of our own.
For many, this is the issue that leads them to join more progressive communities where they can take a more active role. Often they regard the women left behind in the ladies’ galleries or behind mechitzahs with utter bafflement. Why do they stay, when they are so clearly treated as second class citizens?
What they miss, I think, is that many women are only too happy to avoid the potential ordeal of having to sing in public, or indeed, perform in any way. In fact, many men feel the same and don’t go to shul precisely because they might be asked to do something tricky involving opening an ark or dressing a Torah. We are not all natural performers, and many don't want to be. (I do quite fancy having a go, but I mistrust that instinct, as I think it comes from an urge to show off, rather than anything spiritual)
I often think that shuls should have a way in which people could indicate whether they want an active role, so that wardens don’t embarrass them with kind offers.
Of course, for many women, non-participation is a deal breaker. But there are many other ways in which love of Judaism can be encouraged. And I’m not talking about challah bake-ins, fun though such events can be.
Over the last few years a quiet revolution has been taking place, led by Chief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis. He has encouraged women’s learning, to an extent unprecedented in the United Synagogue before. No longer should a girl’s Jewish education peter out at batmitzvah age, even if her participation in services is not permitted. Now a structure is in place to encourage lifelong women’s learning, that can be on a par with men’s.
The first graduates of the Chief Rabbi’s Ma’ayan programme, which gives Jewish women a high-level training as educators, have been taking up roles in communities. Along with the new women’s officers in many synagogues, they ensure that women are not sidelined, that their participation goes far beyond kiddush rota, and that there are women-led opportunities for women to learn.
Then there is the Neshama programme of educational events, the latest of which took place this week. With sessions ranging from textual learning to art and music, there was something for everyone, from those with little knowledge to the more educated. Three hundred women from 50 different communities turned up. Many of these are women who are hungry for more content in their experience of Judaism, who don’t wish to feel patronised or pushed aside. But they don’t necessarily wish to move from the communal structure that they are used to, nor would they feel comfortable in an egalitarian synagogue service.
Last year, at my parents’ synagogue for Rosh Hashanah, I was able to take part in an explanatory service which ran parallel to the traditional musaf service.I wasn’t the only one from the congregation who was grateful to the rabbi for this opportunity to learn, think and discuss instead of launching into a long session of prayer that no one had ever bothered to explain to us in any depth. The rabbi in question, Rabbi Yakov Tatz and his wife Eliana were inducted by the Chief Rabbi at Welwyn Garden City United Synagogue this week, so mazeltovs all round.
My own Jewish identity is in flux most of the time, with much dithering about what I actually believe, and want, if anything. I don’t think I’m alone in that. Many women of my age brought up as mainstream Orthodox feel that we’ve been side-lined for so long that it’s rather late to start pulling us back.
But the move towards educating women, and giving up a bit of male power in the process, is a very good thing. Because with education comes the confidence to challenge the way things are done, based on Torah knowledge rather than modern politics. And who better to lead the way than a new generation of women educators?
