Women Scholars, Then and Now
Mrs. Rachel Keren
"I felt as if he (my husband) was fading away…he would come home
brimming with knowledge, while I was just a big nothing. It really bothered
me. And then, the questions started popping up … wait a minute – isn't there
anywhere that I can study?"
This quote, taken from Tamar El-Or's book, Next Pesach1, reflects the feelings of
many young women who decided to follow their hearts and actively pursue the
options available to women regarding in-depth Torah studies. El-Or defines this
development as part of the feminist revolution aimed at creating a new and different
status for women in society. However, this analysis raises a number of questions:
- Are women merely striving to attain the same level of Torah knowledge as
their male counterparts?
- Is their motivation rooted in a feminist quest for gender equality?
- Can this act of women's Torah study be defined as a revolution?
- Are those carrying the flag of this "revolution" truly aware of their
influence?
As a teacher at Midrashet Ein Hanatziv that differs in many ways from those
described in El-Or's book, I believe that the complexities of this phenomenon go far
beyond categorization as part of the feminist revolution.
The feminist struggle had already made its mark in the world, long before these
young women were born. The yet-unsolved topics on the agenda do not coincide with
the issues concerning the Torah-learning group, partly due to the age factor and social
status of the women. Even on a religious level, these young women grew up in an
environment that already acknowledges the strengths of women. Most of them have
been raised in families and communities that emphasize the participation of women in
religious ceremonies, such as the bat-mitzvah, megilla readings, Torah readings on
Simchat Torah, etc. Therefore, the pursuit of equality, as defined by the feminist
movement, cannot be the main reason for this newfound quest for Torah studies.
The question that troubles women most is the definition of their own religiosity, not
specifically as women, but rather, on a personal level, as members of a dynamic
Jewish community.
Women's questions relating to religiosity are similar to those raised by young men of
the same generation, and are rooted in the realities of everyday life: In today's world,
religion and religiosity face scrutiny on several different fronts. A variety of spiritual
experiences, merging cultures and philosophies from both east and west, are readily
available to all. Judaism, itself, is also presented in several ways (the politicization of
religion, the rituals of amulets and charms, holy graves, mysticism, etc.), and the
utilization of such methods may either attract or deter believers. Therefore, the
motivation to study Torah can be defined as a spiritual quest – as each woman strives
to define her own personal religious world, utilizing her own strengths and intellect.
1
Tamar Eluoar, Next Pesach. Women and Orientation in Religious Zionism.
Not too many years ago, yeshiva-style learning, encompassing all areas of Judaic
knowledge, was off limits to women; however, women of today refuse to accept the
concept of a limited curriculum. These young women have had access to all aspects of
secular academics throughout their years of education - it is reasonable to assume that
they will demand to move freely in the world of Torah and Jewish thought during
their pursuit for spiritual self-definition. In-depth Torah studies are an essential factor
in the effort to define one's personal religious stance. Women strive to attain these
realms of knowledge as religious individuals searching to strengthen their religious
beliefs and way of life. Their goal is not gender equality; their mission is to achieve
self-determination in the religious world.
The results of this quest are truly revolutionary! Today, women all over the world are
learning texts and topics that were off-limits in generations past.
This momentous change began as a quest on a personal level, but has since become a
broad social phenomenon. The ramifications vastly exceed the achievements of one
woman Torah scholar or another. We must pay close attention: Where is this process
leading us? How should we define our expectations for the future? Will the results of
this drastic change in women's Torah study result in an upper echelon of learned
women who will develop a new agenda for their positions as mothers, educators, and
community leaders? Or perhaps an entire dynasty of female "Talmidot Chachim" will
evolve? What status will these new women scholars have?
A "Talmid Chacham" is defined as one who's Torah knowledge determines his status
as arbiter, commentator, judge, and community leader. Will women scholars reach
this capacity? The obvious answer to this question should be "Yes," for all in-depth,
sincere Torah study leads its pupils to the level of Talmidei Chachamim. As women
continue their pursuit of knowledge, the community must make note that soon,
Talmidot Chachamim will be qualified to lead the community alongside male
scholars. In the religious community, where leaders are chosen on the basis of Torah
expertise, women scholars' eligibility must be taken in stride. The implications are of
great magnitude!
Case in point: The Midrasha of the Religious Kibbutz Movement, located on
Kibbutz Ein Hanatziv, is the trailblazer of women's Torah studies in Israel, paving the
road for female Torah scholars and Talmidot Chachamim in the community. It is wellknown that the Religious Kibbutz Movement has been a pioneering force in many
facets of Israeli society throughout the years, and the status of women has always
been of utmost concern. The literature of the Religious Kibbutz Movement mirrors
the founders' belief that women should not be excluded from any aspect of
community life. One practical application of this declaration is apparent in the
decision made, upon the establishment of the first Kibbutz school, that girls should
study the same subjects as boys, especially Judaic subjects. In fact, the schools
belonging to the Religious Kibbutz Movement were the only schools (with the
exception of "Ma'alot" in Jerusalem, and "Pelech" when it opened up years later) that
taught Gemara, equally, to both girls and boys alike. And yet, despite this open
approach, the Religious Kibbutz Institutions were never faced with the question
regarding the status of women scholars, and Talmidot Chachamim, in the kibbutz, the
community, or in society in general.
With time, the Religious Kibbutz Movement founded Midreshet Ein Hanatziv, the
first Midrasha in the country for Israeli women. Unlike other educational institutions,
the Midrasha was not established in response to a decision made by Torah sages,
Torah enthusiasts, or equal rights groups. In 1986, a group of young women soldiers,
some of whom were raised on religious kibbutzim, approached the Religious Kibbutz
Movement with a bold request: These women wished to continue their Torah studies
on a higher level and asked to join the Yeshiva that had recently been founded by the
Religious Kibbutz Movement. The girls were confident that they would be accepted;
they had already learned Gemara in the kibbutz schools. However, the kibbutz
movement, as well as the heads of the yeshiva, refused their request, explaining that
women could not study Torah in the Beit Midrash alongside men. The girls were
offered an alternate solution: "We will establish a yeshiva for women," not to be
called a 'Yeshiva,' but rather – a 'Midrasha', the first of its type in Israel. Soon enough,
other Midrashot were founded throughout the country, further proof that young
women were indeed searching for religious self-determination, based upon a firm
foundation of Torah knowledge.
The account of this process raises three interesting points:
A. The initiative to pursue enhanced Torah studies for women was not handed
down from some higher authority, and was not proposed by a (relatively
radical) movement that supported gender equality, such as the Religious
Kibbutz Movement.
B. On the other hand, it was perfectly clear to those young women that the only
formal institution that would consider lending a helping hand in support of
their idea would be the Religious Kibbutz Movement!
C. Once the decision was made, it was obvious that the chosen style of learning
would parallel the men's yeshiva.
How can the definition of this process assist us in determining the status of women
scholars, and Midrasha graduates, within the religious community? Should we
conclude that Torah studies are acceptable in retrospect, or even are an outright
necessity, but women need their own study framework, separate from the men? Or
can this process teach us that women learn "differently," that they have their own
"feminine voice" that offers a special approach and form of expression?
Other issues may be pondered: Do we, as a religious society, take women's advanced
Torah learning into account when accessing the position of women within our
communities? Is there a need for change?
The midrash in Yalkut Shimoni on Mishlei2 brings an interesting story about the son
of Rabbi Akiva. An analysis of this story can contribute to our efforts in
understanding the current situation and its ramifications, and defining our immediate
and long term goals:
The story of the son of Rabbi Akiva who took himself a wife.
2
Yalkut Shimoni Mishlei 18 – "He who finds a woman, finds goodness." 147
What did he do? After he took her in
He stayed awake all night long and studied Torah.
He said to her: Bring a candle and hold the light for me.
She took a candle and held it all night long.
From nightfall until morning.
In the morning, Rabbi Akiva called to his son:
He asked him : My son, 'mazzah' or 'mozzeh'?* (Grammatical variations of the word "found")
He answer: "Mazzah."
]*Rabbi Akiva hints at two grammatical options, taken from two different psukim:
"He who finds a wife, finds goodness (using the conjugation – 'mazzah')". And "I find
a wife more bitter than death (using the conjugation 'mozzeh')." [Kohelet.] It seems
that there was a coded form of communication which was used by the men to ask a
groom about his wedding night.]
This midrash follows the rule of "short on words, deep in meaning," especially since
the story can be interpreted in many ways.3
The story clearly suggests that Rabbi Akiva's son avoided consummating his marriage
on his wedding night. A number of explanations can be offered:
- The groom's behavior may symbolize scorn and disrespect for his wife.
Despite the atmosphere of this special evening, the groom continues with
his regular habits. His wife is summoned as a candle-holder, to shed light
upon the world that was truly important to the groom, and only to him.
- Perhaps the story implies an approach that was censured by the Rabbis, but
existed nevertheless: the resolve to remain chaste and abstain from
physical urges.
Both of these interpretations pass judgment on the actions of Rabbi Akiva's son;
critique of similar instances can be found in other midrashim, as well.4
However, a totally different method of interpretation may shed new light on the story:
The midrash never calls the groom by name – he is noted only as the son of Rabbi
Akiva, and the underlying theme of the story may lie within this single detail. Rabbi
Akiva's name, specifically in reference to marriage and Torah study, immediately
reminds us of the well-known story of Rabbi Akiva and his wife. The couple
sacrificed the intimacy of married life so that Rabbi Akiva could progress in his Torah
studies (based upon the story as written in the Bavli5). The story about the son of
Rabbi Akiva can now be understood in two alternate ways:
- Perhaps Rabbi Akiva's son is testing his new wife: Is she worthy to be the
wife of a Talmid Chacham? Is she as dedicated to Torah studies as his
mother was?
- Another explanation could be that behavior of Rabbi Akiva's son is an act
of protest, an objection to the accepted sacrifice of matrimonial unity for
the benefit of advanced Torah studies. Perhaps the story uncovers hidden
criticism that the son held for his father's behavior.
3
4
5
A Reading Option in: Calderon, Ruth, The Marketplace, The Heart, and The Home.
More on these stories in: Frankel, Y, References in Aggadah Stories.
Ketubot. Nedarim.
If this method of interpretation is followed, and in my opinion, is, indeed, an accurate
reading of the story, then the alternative posed by Rabbi Akiva's son is truly
fascinating: Rabbi Akiva's son offers his bride a married life based upon a partnership
in the way of life that is most meaningful to him – a life of Torah studies. This
thought is reinforced by the centrality of the candle in the story, reminding us of the
pasuk: "Because the commandments are a candle, and the Torah is light" (Mishlei), as
well as the pasuk: "The candle of G-d is the soul of man." The light of the candle
represents the light of the Torah and this is the inner force that will bind the two
souls! If so, when Rabbi Akiva questions his son – "mazzah" or "mozzeh," hinting at
the usual interpretation of this male code regarding the marital act on the wedding
night, Rabbi Akiva's son, without defining the actual interactions of the preceding
night, answers, "mazzah," for he truly found goodness; he found the good and
righteous path.
This midrash emphasizes the importance of Torah studies for each individual and
hints at the significant effect it may have on the connection between husband and
wife, guiding the manner in which they build their family unit. On a broader
spectrum, the story about Rabbi Akiva's son may reflect upon the status of women
scholars within the intellectual community, and society in general.
Rabbi Akiva's son offers us a new direction which parallels the objectives offered by
the Midrasha of the Religious Kibbutz Movement – recognition of the fact that it is
possible to generate change, there is room to enhance the basis for partnership.
While women are active in the religious life within their respective communities, they
tend to limit themselves to specific issues that are labeled as appropriate for their
intervention. However, as the number of learned women increases and an entire
regiment of women scholars assembles, women will no longer be content to dabble in
the odds and ends of predefined issues. Study will lead to actions, and the community
will play a larger role in the spiritual lives of these women.
How can these learned women contribute to interactions within the Jewish
community?
We offer our Midrasha students the opportunity to broaden their horizons by
increasing their knowledge and capability to navigate independently in the Torah
world. The benefits of this expertise are twofold: As the pyramid of women scholars
grows, the ability to reach higher levels increases. Women scholars have already
achieved acceptance as religious arbiters, serving the Jewish community at large.
Midrasha graduates are also active in the fight for social justice and have found
several ways to act towards the betterment of the community. On a more personal
level, women scholars can enhance the spiritual and social lives of the members of
their respective communities. Working alongside local Rabbis, these women's
contribution may help alleviate some of the confusion and chaos that plague the
young and old alike in today's modern world. Many women have already begun this
mission, as learned women, guided by the teachings of the Torah. Their numbers will
certainly multiply.
While it is important to define the new direction and influence of women scholars
today, it is of equal importance that we, as members of the religious community,
make every effort to promote a change that will place women scholars center stage,
thus encouraging other young women to follow in their footsteps.
It is true – much has changed over the past few years: Our Midrasha and other
institutions have produced several talmidot chachamim, some of whom have reached
very high levels of learning. But do the communities ask to hear the voice of women
scholars? Do they insist upon the integration of talmidot chachamim into the religious
society? Both sides must strive to develop an ongoing, open dialogue between women
scholars and their respective communities, allotting validity to the female voice in the
Torah world. Communities can no longer rely on age-old habits, merely out of
convenience or general acceptance. The new voice of women scholars must be heard,
and incorporated into the foundations of a just and caring society.
The story of Rabbi Akiva's son suggests opening yet another type of dialogue – a
dialogue between teacher and student, male or female, mirroring the wonderful
example of the bride and groom in the midrash. This dialogue would strengthen not
only the inner world of those involved, but would also influence the surrounding
community, promoting higher levels of spirituality, and empathy for others. We are
truly concerned about the future of the younger generation and our worries are
certainly justified. Any care and attention that we can offer, on a religious level,
would be beneficial.
Women scholars challenge society, and demand a time for change. I believe that the
biggest change we have witnessed points to the fact that it is now possible for women
to take part in advanced Torah studies, and a number of these women have achieved
the level of talmidot chachamim. Next, we must focus on the development of ongoing
dialogues, which will undoubtedly be as equally beneficial to the women and their
communities, alike. Our Midrasha, on Ein Hanatziv, was founded to offer women an
active part in Torah studies, and our students have since become well-versed in all
parts of the Jewish bookcase. We are prepared to follow in the footsteps of our
Talimidot Chachamim and continue to pursue our mission, as we hear the new voice
that is permeating the Torah world.