A Traditional Perspective
Orthodox Feminism For The 21st Century
A founder of the
Orthodox feminist movement discusses issues confronting the movement now and in
the future
By Blu Greenberg
The following article presents the
perspective of a leader of the Orthodox feminist movement. The current platform
and activities of the Jewish Orthodox Feminist
Alliance can be viewed on their website. This article is reprinted with
permission from the January 2000 issue of Sh'ma: A Journal of Jewish
Responsibility.
On numerous occasions over the past years, I've been asked:
how far can Orthodoxy go in responding to feminism? Sometimes there's a bit of
goading behind the question: What do Orthodox feminists really want? What's
your real agenda? But often the questioner comes with genuine interest. How far
can Orthodoxy accommodate the needs of the new Jewish woman without losing its
Orthodoxy?
There are also myriad specific questions: Will every girl in
the community be expected to study Talmud? Will Orthodox women become rabbis,
make halachic decisions as yoatzot, advisors,
or poskot, decisors? Will they be dayanot, judges in the rabbinic courts
of law, presiding over matters of divorce? Will the gendered language of the
prayerbook undergo transformation or will the original language be preserved,
with commentary and caveat sensitive to kavod
hatzibbur, the honor (of women) in the congregation? And most of all, who
will prepare for Pesach? (Just kidding.)
These are but a few of the questions that grow naturally out
of a 30‑year engagement of feminism and Judaism. Some of these questions
I would like to have answered. Others upset my Orthodox equilibrium, although
they may seem legitimate to some Orthodox women whose thinking has gone beyond
mine.
So the future scenario is unclear. If the changes that have
been wrought during the past decades are any indication, the element of
surprise may be a surer bet than any predictions I might offer. Who would have
imagined 30 years ago Orthodox women studying and teaching Talmud in places
like Drisha [the Drisha Institute for Jewish Education, a NewYork-based center
for women’s advanced study of classical Jewish texts] or Midreshet Lindenbaum
[a Jerusalem-based center for Jewish women’s learning]? Who would have believed
that women would serve on Israeli religious councils, or as congregational
interns in Orthodox shuls? Who would have pictured a woman reading the Torah
portion at a women's tefillah group?
When I was growing up in the 1940s and 1950s, even the word bat mitzvah was off‑limits in
Orthodoxy, signaling the celebrant as Reform or Conservative. Today, no self‑respecting
modem Orthodox family would refrain from marking its daughter's Jewish maturity
with a bat mitzvah celebration. While
changes in Orthodoxy may not seem as stark as changes in the more liberal
denominations, they are more remarkable in some ways because they represent a
greater shift from the status quo. In only one generation, Orthodox women's
roles have shifted from exclusively private to increasingly public, from the
household and mikvah to houses of
study and prayer, and religious courts of law.
The extent to which change
will occur in the coming decades depends on a number of variables above and
beyond the to‑be‑determined agenda of Orthodox feminists. Not the
least of these variables is the attitude of the large body of mainstream women
in the Orthodox community. While the numbers of Orthodox feminists (including
those who eschew the label) have grown, the majority of Orthodox women remain skeptical
or antagonistic, even though they have integrated gender equality values into
all other aspects of their lives-‑their relationships, educational goals,
and professional work.
In addition to a desire for change, there must also be a
willingness to work for change. The fact that the agunah [lit. "chained woman"--a woman whose husband
deserts her, is otherwise missing or refuses to grant a divorce, and who is not
permitted to remarry ("chained" to her recalcitrant or missing
husband) under Jewish law] isstill
an unresolved issue is due, in part I believe, to the fact that Orthodox women
(and men) are not demanding that halachists end such injustice through
reinterpretation and repair of this law.
In addition to activism, many Orthodox women remain diffident
about adopting new and unfamiliar roles. I understand this because, although I
advocate expanded roles, I too sometimes feel an inner, emotional resistance to
the unfamiliar. Rabbis report that when they offer women in their congregations
hakafot, dancing with a Torah scroll
on Simchat Torah, many refuse due to unease or fear. While this is natural
given the centuries of conditioning, it is surprising to find that this
resistance cuts across generational lines.
Another factor in determining future change is the ability
of a community to distinguish between
public policy/community sensibility and halachic prohibition. Currently,
the lines are blurred. Or perhaps not so blurred. Often I've heard the
following rabbinic p'sak "It'snot against halachah, but itsnot
something we do." While this may be the answer of the moment,
distinguishing between halachah and
community sensibilities opens the door to future reevaluation. New policies
will only emerge from new educational programs, when models for articulating
these issues and pressure from feminists move the community forward.
A third variable in determining the pace and extent of
change is evidence. Although ultimately we want what is best for Judaism and
best for women, it may take time to discern exactly where this convergence
lies. How will the changes affect relationships, the family, the ways we raise
our children, the definitions of sexuality, and ultimately the Jewish future?
What is the staying power of women in traditionally nurturing roles? Perhaps
biology counts for more than feminism has allowed, and there is a reason that
society has not restructured itself to accommodate the new ideology. We are the
first generation to write the book on new gender relations, and we want to
write and read it at the same time.
Oddly, I feel a measure of comfort in not knowing. Years ago
I thought everything had to be equal; that less than equal meant sexism,
discrimination, hierarchy, and disability. I now believe that distinctive roles
can be compatible with equality and equal dignity, and that not everything in
life has to be taken to its logical conclusion. Perhaps Orthodoxy may turn out
to be the best testing ground for a theology of distinctive‑but‑equal
gender roles. However, to serve as a credible model, Orthodoxy cannot be
separate and unequal, neither in reality nor perception. With the exception of
the agunah problem, which as an
outright abuse and violation of Jewish ethics should have been resolved
yesterday, the slow time frame of Orthodox decision making may be advantageous
to all society.
The path that this journey-‑the transformation of
Orthodoxy by feminism and the modulation of feminism under the impact of
eternal Jewish values-‑will take is a function of the interplay between
halachists, the lay community, and the sincere petitioning of feminists within
Orthodoxy. Judaism has often adapted to innovations based on the dynamic
interchange between individual needs and community sensibilities, between the
questions and the answers in the halachic literature, between new societal
norms and ancient traditions. The full dignity of women, as images of God, is
an external idea that we must integrate into our heritage.
Orthodox feminists can add our voices, our pleas for change
without worrying that we are too radical or too reactionary. Even as we press
forward with our issues, we feel the reassuring cushion of community and halachah all around us, and we are
emboldened to speak the truth, without fear.
Blu Greenberg is the
co-founder and first president of the Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance and
author of several books, including On Women and Judaism: A View From
Tradition and How To Run a
Traditional Jewish Household.
