Women’s Aliyah to the Torah: Aliyah, Blessings, and Minyan (Column 510)
Ben-David is addressing a narrower question: whether ten women can form a quorum for the reading
The column opens by clarifying that the post under discussion is not really about whether a woman may receive an aliyah and recite the blessings in a men’s minyan. In the rabbi’s view, that is almost obvious, since the baraita in Megillah says that women count among the seven aliyot, and the reservation of "the dignity of the congregation" is no longer persuasive in a world where women hold senior positions of public leadership. Ben-David’s real question is whether ten women by themselves can count as a quorum for Torah reading.
Why R. Grodzensky’s inference from the language of the Shulchan Arukh is not enough
Ben-David cites R. Grodzensky’s novel claim, which infers from the difference between "ten free adult males" for matters of sanctity and "ten adults" for Torah reading. The column argues that this inference is shaky: the language of the Shulchan Arukh is not generally precise in the way Maimonides’ language is; elsewhere too, "adults" clearly means men; and the commentators straightforwardly understood Torah reading to fall under matters of sanctity, so there was no need to repeat "males." If the Shulchan Arukh meant to innovate that women count, it should have said so explicitly rather than leave it to an interpretive nuance that all its commentators missed.
The methodological criticism: "second-order pesak" replaces real halakhic inquiry
From there the column broadens the critique: instead of beginning with the Talmud, the Rishonim, and the underlying reasoning, public discussion tends to cling to a lone decisor, his authority, and fear of a slippery slope. The rabbi calls this "second-order pesak." If the primary sources allow the ruling, there is no need to hang everything on a dubious textual nuance; if they do not, the authority of even an important posek will not create that permission. Tactical questions and labels can come, at most, after the substantive analysis.
Even the very rule of a "matter of sanctity" is not self-evident
The column questions the basic assumption that it is forbidden to say Kedushah, Kaddish, or Barekhu without ten. In the rabbi’s view, perhaps there is no intrinsic prohibition here, only an absence of obligation or of a place for these texts within the liturgy. He draws an analogy from sanctifying God’s name: the verse "I shall be sanctified among the children of Israel" is also used for the laws of public sanctification, but surely no one would say it is forbidden to sanctify God in private. Even so, for the sake of the discussion he is willing to assume, as the poskim generally do, that such a rule exists.
The Gemara does not say that women are excluded from the ten
Even if one assumes that a matter of sanctity requires ten, the column asks where we learn that the ten must be men. In the Megillah sugyot the sources say only "ten" or "congregation," with no gender marker, and the baraita on Torah reading explicitly says that women count among the seven aliyot. The rabbi therefore suggests that excluding women from the quorum is a later interpretive move that anchored an older social reality, not an explicit Talmudic law. If so, once reality has changed and women’s status has changed, it is easier to change the halakhic application as well. He adds that most poskim obligate women in prayer, and the Monday/Thursday Torah reading is part of the prayer service.
Changed reality and need are not "Reform" but part of conservative midrash
The column stresses that this is not surrender to Conservative or Reform labeling, but an example of first-order halakhic inquiry. In his view, Conservative rabbis sometimes have a methodological advantage precisely when they examine primary sources, history, and textual witnesses without granting every medieval authority absolute formal authority. He adds that post-Talmudic decisors do not have such authority, and that here it is not even necessary to speak of a dispute with the Rishonim so much as a changed application under changed circumstances, similar to other examples in halakhah. The need and distress of women to participate in religious life are not the only argument, but they are an important consideration when grounded in "conservative midrash": a careful use of possibilities the sources leave open, especially where there is no clear source excluding women.
The practical conclusion: there is room to permit a women’s quorum, the blessings, and Barekhu
In practice, the rabbi thinks there is real room to permit a women’s quorum for Torah reading: because there may be no intrinsic prohibition in matters of sanctity at all, because Torah reading may be different, and because women are fundamentally included in aliyot and therefore plausibly can constitute the quorum for them. As for the blessings, he sees it as straightforward that women may recite them on an aliyah, since they are included in the baraita, are obligated in the blessing over Torah study, and we even find minors reciting the blessings on Simhat Torah. Barekhu too is not, in his view, a decisive obstacle—certainly not in a men’s minyan, and in his opinion not even in a women’s one, especially since its very status as a matter of sanctity is disputed. At most, one may acknowledge the permission and still choose not to act on it; but fearmongering, labels, or "holy lies" may not replace the substantive discussion.
This morning I was sent a post written by Rabbi Yitzhak Ben David about women being called up to the Torah and women’s minyanim, in honor of Simchat Torah, which falls tomorrow. Because of the urgency of the matter, I thought it appropriate to write a column about it. I beg pardon that I wrote it quickly and therefore it is neither complete nor exhaustive, but it should suffice to explain my view before the holiday.
Rabbi Ben David’s Remarks
First, a preface: his discussion is not about women’s blessings over the Torah reading, and it seems that on this point Rabbi Ben David takes it as obvious that it is permitted, since in the sugya in Megillah (23a) we find in a baraita that women count among the seven called up. True, the Gemara there limits this because of “the dignity of the congregation” (kevod ha-tzibbur), but many have already written that this consideration does not apply in our day. The Frimer brothers elaborate at length on this (see a reference and responses here), and their conclusion is that it still applies nowadays. In my view, however, it is obvious that there is no problem at all. There is no infringement of the congregation’s dignity today when a woman reads from the Torah, at a time when women can manage men, serve as presidents of the Supreme Court, as ministers, or as prime ministers.[1]
But one must discuss whether the baraita means that women’s aliyot to the Torah must be done within a minyan of men—since a minyan requires ten men—or whether it may also be done within a quorum of ten women. Rabbi Ben David’s discussion concerns this question: whether ten women constitute a minyan for Torah reading that enables reciting the blessings. It would have been proper to sharpen this point further and also to address in the background the very issue of women’s blessings (even in a men’s minyan).
In his main argument he brings an unusual ruling by Rabbi Tzvi Hirsch Grodzinsky, in his book Mikra’ei Kodesh, which is devoted to the laws of Torah reading. Rabbi Grodzinsky infers from the wording of the Shulchan Aruch that with regard to matters of sanctity (devar she-bikdusha) it states that one needs “ten free adult males” (Orach Chayim §55:1), whereas with regard to Torah reading it states “ten adults” (Orach Chayim §143:1). From here he infers that regarding Torah reading, women are included in the ten. He explains that women are included in the mitzvah of hakhel, and according to the baraita they count among the seven called up; and according to several opinions they are obligated in Torah reading—therefore they are included in the ten for this matter. He excludes the call of “Bar’chu,” since that is a davar she-bikdusha and there one requires ten free adult males.
Rabbi Ben David notes that this is indeed a lone view that did not gain the agreement of additional poskim, but it is appropriate to know that such an opinion exists and to take it into account. Incidentally, he himself does not state his practical ruling, but merely presents this source to readers.
In the comments after the post, a discussion took place that focused mainly on the question of a lone opinion and to what extent one may rely on it; whether it is appropriate to present it publicly to a broad audience; whether that posek was indeed authoritative; and what the ramifications of such a ruling could be (Reform tendencies, slippery slope, and the like). I did not see any discussion of the substance of the ruling—neither by Rabbi Ben David nor in the comments.
Initial Critique
I will begin by noting that reading these remarks left me uneasy. This is a very typical discussion of a halachic question, in which the primary sources are entirely ignored and one begins straightaway with a survey of the views of poskim (roughly of our era). As if there were no Talmud, no Rishonim, no reasoning—everything stands or falls on some dubious inference by some author (authoritative or not) in the language of the Shulchan Aruch. The discussion then focuses on ad hominem questions—whether the author was an important posek and to what degree—and on various secondary tactical issues.
This is what I have called in the past (see for example Column 332, and in my articles here and here, and more) “second-order psak,” and I have also noted that it is very characteristic of liberal poskim who seek to innovate vis-à-vis the status quo. Apparently, they find it convenient to hang their position on towering authorities rather than present a stance of their own, for fear of being suspected of Reform, Heaven forbid. But a halachic discussion ought to begin with the primary sources, to understand whether, in principle, such a halachic path exists—and perhaps as an illustration or precedent one can then bring the view of this or that posek. An answer comprised entirely of illustration cannot be considered a halachic argument. If an authoritative author wrote something—does that mean he necessarily did not err? Have we not found strange rulings by authoritative poskim? Does the mere fact that they were printed mean we may automatically rely upon them? (See on this my discussion here regarding R. David Zvi Hoffmann’s ruling about conversion without acceptance of the commandments.)
Rabbi Ben David’s post is an excellent example of this odd phenomenon. In any case: if such a ruling has grounding in the primary sources, why do I need inferences from the wording of the Shulchan Aruch? The need and distress that exist today, and the changed reality and status of women, are sufficient reasons to adopt such a ruling even without inferences from the Shulchan Aruch. And if it has no place when one analyzes the primary sources—again, why should I care about that inference? Even if the Shulchan Aruch had stated this explicitly, I would not permit it; all the more so when what we have are dubious inferences from its language.
One more note about inferences from the wording of the Shulchan Aruch. The authors of methodological rules wrote that Maimonides’ language is precise, and therefore conclusions may be drawn from inferences in his wording (and from the placement of a given law in his book). By contrast, the Shulchan Aruch’s language is not precise; its writing is eclectic and unsystematic (as the author attests—this is a digest of the Beit Yosef), and therefore it is very difficult to rely on inferences from its language. Let us take an example from our very matter. The term “gedolim” (adults) appears in the Shulchan Aruch also in the laws of the priestly blessing (Orach Chayim §128:34), and there it is quite clear from the context that this refers to males, even though he does not write that explicitly. Likewise, the commentaries on the law of Torah reading (Orach Chayim §143:1) wrote that the requirement of ten adults is by virtue of davar she-bikdusha—hence it is clear that there was no need to specify that those adults are not women. In their view it is evident that the Shulchan Aruch relies on what he already spelled out in §55 (true, he does write here “free,” bnei chorin, but there is no difficulty in his omitting “women”). Moreover, if his intention were indeed to permit women—to say that the requirement of ten here is not on account of davar she-bikdusha—he should have written precisely that, rather than leaving it implicit for interpretive inferences. The fact is that all his commentators “erred” here—precisely in the very place where, according to Rabbi Grodzinsky’s approach, the author is so meticulous in his wording.
Incidentally, Maimonides, whose language is indeed precise, wrote regarding the chazzan’s repetition (Hilchot Tefillah 12:3 and 8:4) that one requires ten adult free persons (gedolim benei chorin), and he does not mention males. Are women included there as well? If so, then not only for Torah reading. In short, this inference from the Shulchan Aruch’s language is very dubious; if this is the basis for permitting women’s aliyah to the Torah, you have no shakier basis.
I now turn to the substantive discussion—and, as noted, due to lack of time I will do so briefly.
Questions Regarding the Law of Davar She-bikdusha
I begin with the law that davar she-bikdusha is not recited with fewer than ten. The source is in the Mishnah, Megillah 23b. The Rishonim there disagree about what falls under the category of davar she-bikdusha; the Ran’s position, for example, is that only the Kedushah is included. Beyond that, I have already written here in the past of my astonishment at this “prohibition.” I cannot understand what prohibition there could be to say some text with fewer than ten. Is it conceivable that it would be forbidden for me in my living room to say a sentence like “We will sanctify and revere You, as the pleasant discourse of the secret conversation of the holy seraphim,” or “Bless the Lord, Who is blessed”? Not to mention the sentences of Kaddish (which in any case do not appear in the Gemara and are rooted in the Geonim). This seems to me utterly implausible. There is no blessing here such that one could claim it is prohibited as a blessing in vain. In some of these, the Divine Name does not appear at all—so it is not at all clear what could underlie such a prohibition. The simple meaning is that there is no obligation to say a davar she-bikdusha when there are not ten—that is, it is not part of the prayer text (and therefore the Kedushah might constitute an interruption, and then there would be a prohibition to say it). But why should there be an intrinsic prohibition?! An individual, a woman, or a gentile wishes to stand in their living room and declare, “Bless the Lord, Who is blessed” (by the way, even without the Divine Name this is considered a davar she-bikdusha, since in the common conception the issue is not the Name).
The source for this law is brought there in the Gemara from the verse “I shall be sanctified in the midst of the children of Israel,” whence we learn that this should be said within a congregation of ten. But this very verse is also interpreted regarding the laws of kiddush Hashem (sanctification of the Name), and there too we have special laws for public kiddush Hashem—that it is a matter of publicity (in the presence of ten). Is it conceivable that sanctifying the Name as an individual is forbidden? Perhaps giving one’s life for a prohibition other than the three cardinal sins is forbidden as an individual (a dispute between Maimonides and Tosafot), but that is because the very act of giving one’s life is prohibited. It is not that there is a prohibition to sanctify the Name as an individual. So why, in reciting verses or sentences concerning sanctifying the Name, should there be a prohibition to say them with fewer than ten?
Incidentally, regarding the laws of kiddush Hashem, it is simple that women join the ten.[2] I saw someone cite from Igrot Moshe, Choshen Mishpat, part II, siman 66, p. 290, s.v. “aval ha-Rambam,” where he writes that one should not distinguish in the parameters between two laws derived from the same verse. Hence, if women join the ten for kiddush Hashem, they join also for a regular minyan and for Torah reading.
Also incidentally, Mourner’s Kaddish (Kaddish Yatom) is recited by minors, even though the Shulchan Aruch states that Kaddish requires ten adult free males. It is true that the ten listening are adults, and the minor does not count toward the quorum—but still, he himself is saying a davar she-bikdusha. Apropos: a woman reciting Kaddish in a men’s minyan, or her being called up to the Torah with a blessing in a men’s minyan.
I will not delve further here into this puzzling matter—which requires a separate analysis—but I place it in the background. Since it is accepted among the poskim that this is indeed prohibited, I will assume for the continuation of the discussion that there is such a prohibition (even though I myself very much doubt it).
A Minyan of Women
Let us now assume that it is prohibited to say a davar she-bikdusha with fewer than ten, and let us assume that Torah reading is not an exception (contrary to Rabbi Grodzinsky’s inference, and in line with all the commentators there). Must it follow that women are excluded from the minyan? Whence comes the law that women do not join the ten? The source is in Megillah 23b; but even if you search with a microscope, you will not find there that the ten in question are males. It says that ten are required, or “congregation,” and that is all. Moreover, regarding Torah reading it is stated explicitly in the baraita on the previous page (Megillah 23a) that everyone counts toward the seven, including women (with the caveat of kevod ha-tzibbur, as above), with no reservations. The picture that emerges is that from the Talmud’s law there is no hint that women do not join the ten for any davar she-bikdusha.
Women’s exclusion from the ten was done by later commentators, for various reasons. It is likely they anchored the reality that prevailed in their times, for there is no clear source. I would say something similar about the Rosh’s well-known view in Berakhot that women are not included in arevut (mutual responsibility; his proof from fulfilling another’s obligation can be refuted). It is fairly clear that these are ex post facto explanations for an existing practice that was probably based on women’s status and role in the synagogue and in the public domain. There is no source here from a verse, a derashah, or even a clear Talmudic source. If so, for one who comes to change this in changed circumstances, the task is much easier.
I do not see why today—when women’s status is equal to that of men, and when there is no real reason or unambiguous source to exclude them—we should not include women in the minyan, both for prayer and for Torah reading. The fact that Orthodoxy has not practiced this and the Conservative movement has, is not an argument. At most it is an indication that obliges us to examine ourselves—but what determines the halacha is the analysis of the halachic sources. If the sources allow it, then it is possible. Note that women are obligated in prayer according to virtually all central poskim, and the Torah reading on Mondays and Thursdays is part of the prayer.
Incidentally, the Rosh himself writes that no post-Talmudic posek has absolute authority; this is also brought as law in the Shulchan Aruch, Choshen Mishpat §25. But here we are not necessarily speaking about a position that disagrees with the Rishonim; rather, about a different application under different circumstances. Here too I will bring the Rosh’s position regarding the mitzvah to write a Torah scroll: nowadays, one can fulfill it by purchasing books of the Oral Torah (see Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh De’ah §270). If the Rosh does this to a clear, biblically mandated mitzvah, explicit in the Talmud—can I not do this to the Rosh himself, that is, to argue that a change in circumstances dictates a change in the application of the halacha in our day?! This brings me to a note on the difference between Reform and what I propose here.
A Note on Labels
I saw a survey of Maimonides’ position regarding counting women, in a Conservative responsum—see here—and the arguments seemed to me quite reasonable and persuasive. I suppose that presenting a position like mine will elicit claims that this is Reform or Conservative. What exactly is the difference between me and them?
I have written more than once that labels are not an argument. Even if a claim is labeled “Conservative,” if it holds water it should be accepted. One must accept the truth from whoever states it. Moreover—and regrettably I must note—our halachic responsa often rely on some obscure source or dubious inference (as we saw here), and even where they do not, it is still customary to hang everything on the Rishonim as an absolute source, despite the fact that this has no real halachic basis (see the Rosh and the Shulchan Aruch cited above). In most cases, in our circles we do not engage the primary sources—and certainly not textual witnesses—not to mention historical context. And this is so even where there is genuine need and distress, where it is clear that there is significant weight to possible directions even if they were not accepted in previous generations, so long as there is no clear reason to forbid. Such an approach is called for especially where the issue clearly relates to social practices—then it is obvious that one must examine the circumstances and take changed realities into account.
Among Conservative responsa, I generally find more serious answers on these subjects. In substantive terms, their psak is “first-order.” I do not mean extreme sharpness or erudition (which I usually do not find there), but rather an approach that addresses the primary sources and conducts a systematic analysis without prior assumptions—and certainly does not latch onto some obscure source and decide the practical bottom line accordingly. You will not find there reverent deference to every Rishon or Acharon who wrote otherwise (though there is indeed a review of the views of Rishonim and Acharonim up to the latest authorities. In my opinion this is even a bit excessive, once one understands that we are dealing with first-order analysis). In my view, this is the correct and proper approach. With all due respect to the Rishonim, they have no formal authority. Their interpretations certainly carry weight and establish custom—but if we are not dealing with a binding law, there is room even to disagree with them; and certainly it is possible to change the application of the psak in situations where reality has changed.
Bottom line: the way we currently conceive of women leads to the conclusion that their status should be equal to that of men. True, there are laws in which it is difficult to implement this in practice because there are clear sources excluding women (testimony, serving as judges, kiddushin and divorce, and the like). Even in some of those contexts, in my opinion, there is room to equalize women’s status to that of men; but in our case—where there is no clear source that prevents it—I see no reason to refrain. To this we must add the distress and need of women to take part in religious practice, which certainly justifies consideration and even reliance on non-consensual halachic possibilities. This has been the way of halacha since time immemorial.
In Column 508 I noted that need and distress, by themselves, are not a halachic argument. In order to ground change in halacha, one must resort to a conservative midrash (interpretive mechanism). What I have brought here is a simple example of applying the mechanism of conservative midrash that I defined in Columns 475–478. Note that here it is not even an argument that changes a halacha established by an authoritative source, but rather a custom based on conceptions of Rishonim that were likely shaped by the reality of their own times. There I also explained why this is an entirely legitimate halachic path (I called it “interpretive conservatism”), and the labels of “Reform” that will surely be raised in relation to it stem from misunderstanding. In Column 478 I explained in detail how this differs from Reform (where, beyond need and distress, a conservative midrash is also offered). A similar move was presented in my article about the status of a convert; and there I had the impression that this was entirely accepted.
It is no accident that I ignore the secondary discussions about slippery slopes, the greatness of this or that posek, whether it is appropriate to present the truth to the public or whether it is preferable to mislead them and say it is forbidden even though it is not, and so on. I have expressed my opinion of “holy lies” more than once. In any case, even if one takes such considerations into account (in rare cases this might be appropriate), it is clear that this cannot replace the substantive, essential discussion. At most, after that discussion is concluded, one can add a discussion of those aspects. Thus, we may agree that it is permitted, but still be stringent upon ourselves not to make use of the permission.
Practical Halachic Conclusions
Regarding a women’s minyan, in my opinion there is certainly room to permit it. Both because, in principle, there is no prohibition even for a davar she-bikdusha; and because perhaps the quorum for Torah reading is different from that of davar she-bikdusha (as per Rabbi Grodzinsky’s inference); and also because this concerns reading from and being called up to the Torah—matters for which, according to the Talmudic law, women are relevant; therefore it is reasonable that they can constitute the quorum even if, regarding a davar she-bikdusha, they would not join. Especially in light of the current distress, there is certainly room to rely on a non-consensual halachic consideration.
Beyond joining the minyan, there is the question of the blessing in an aliyah to the Torah. As noted, from the plain sense of the baraita in Megillah it appears that women also recite the blessings. It is not reasonable to forbid them to bless—for according to many views one can bless on a custom and on time-bound positive commandments; so why should they not be able to bless for an aliyah to the Torah?! Moreover, it is ruled in the Shulchan Aruch (Orach Chayim §47:14) that women are obligated in the blessing over the Torah; so why should they not be able to recite it when they are called up?! I will note that on Simchat Torah even minors recite blessings (and in the baraita cited, they too count toward the seven). Should women not be able to bless?!
Regarding saying “Bar’chu,” some forbade it as a davar she-bikdusha. But beyond what I noted above—that this prohibition is very puzzling (is it a blessing in vain? Why should a woman not be able to invite the congregation to bless the Lord, Who is blessed?)—this is especially true if there is a men’s minyan; then it is obvious to me that it is permitted (just as a minor says Mourner’s Kaddish). In my view this is also the case in a women’s minyan (in light of what I concluded above—that they join the ten for a davar she-bikdusha; and especially since here it is akin to kiddush Hashem). Bear in mind that the very claim that “Bar’chu” is a davar she-bikdusha is itself unclear—it is a matter of dispute among the Rishonim in Megillah there. Therefore, in my view, women may certainly say “Bar’chu” as well.
So much for now; may it be pleasant to the listener.
[1] On this matter, see my article on the status of a convert, where I made a similar argument regarding appointment to positions of authority in our day.
[2] See Gilyonei ha-Shas to Sanhedrin 74b, s.v. “mah lehalan,” Margaliyot ha-Yam Sanhedrin, part II, p. 86, §27, and more.
Discussion
What about joining a minyan (say, a minyan of 5 women and 5 men)? According to what you wrote, can women join for the Amidah and essentially for the core of the prayer service, just like among the Conservatives?
In my opinion, it’s possible. This brings us into the issue of the partition, about which I also have something to say. But this is not the place.
The female listener will certainly enjoy it. I hope the male listener will too.
More power to the rabbi.
What do you think about zimmun after a meal, where the reason they do not join is supposedly “modesty”?
I don’t see any breach of modesty there.
Rabbi, what do you think of this article? https://www.inn.co.il/news/579962
What am I supposed to write? It summarizes various opinions.
Thank you. A comment: I think that kevod hatzibbur, which is the main rationale for why women do not read from the Torah, means something different from what you wrote here. Kevod hatzibbur is not because there is something degrading in women reading per se, but because it appears that the men, who are obligated in the matter, do not know how to do what is incumbent upon them and need a woman who is not obligated. Something like the mishnah in Sukkah, about one for whom a slave, a woman, or a minor recites it, “may a curse come upon him.”
This rationale is just as applicable today.
That is a common explanation, and it is similar to what I meant by kevod hatzibbur. But even that reason does not apply nowadays. No one would imagine that a woman is being called up because there is no man who knows how to read. Especially since today there is a designated Torah reader, and in any case it is not the person called up who actually reads from the Torah. Beyond that, on Simchat Torah this obviously does not apply, since there everyone is called up.
It is strange that you did not address the Gemara in Berakhot 47b. It says there that a slave does not join the ten for prayer in the synagogue, and the comparison between women and slaves in terms of obligation in the commandments is well known. Not only that, but the Gemara there implies that the laws of joining ten in a synagogue are identical to joining ten for a zimmun with God’s name, regarding which it says there that women and men do not join together. Also, in the discussion in the Gemara and the Tosefta about the blessing of bridegrooms, whether the bridegrooms count toward the quorum, it implies that the bride does not.
I explained that I’m writing quickly and not exhaustively. I’ll address it briefly.
It has nothing to do with obligation in the commandments. A slave does not join a minyan because he is not a Jew and not a citizen. A woman is.
As for zimmun too, it is irrelevant here for two reasons: because I was not discussing a mixed minyan, and there it could be due to side considerations (modesty and the like, which, incidentally, also do not apply today).
Why do considerations of modesty not apply today? And how is this different from the past?
You tell me: when was the last time you separated men and women at a shared meal of three couples? Is it possible to sit together and chat and laugh, but a joint zimmun is somehow immodest? Norms of modesty are a function of context and culture.
Hello Rabbi. In your understanding, should one also take this one step further: if women can constitute a minyan, why should they not then be obligated to pray with a minyan every day? As I understand it, one cannot join a minyan without being obligated in it (though there is Rabbenu Tam’s view that included a minor, etc., but that is an exceptional opinion among the halakhic authorities).
Men too are not obligated to pray with a minyan. Whatever men are obligated in should also be imposed on women.
For example, positive commandments dependent on a set time.
What is the connection?! I’m talking about the obligations of prayer. I addressed time-bound positive commandments above. They apparently are not relevant to the discussion.
Regarding men’s obligation, the Igrot Moshe proves with evidence that prayer with a minyan is a full obligation upon men.
Orach Chaim 3:27 and also 3:7, see there.
This is an old discussion. In my opinion the proofs are really not compelling, and straightforwardly there is no obligation, only value.
See a brief, non-exhaustive survey and disagreement here:
https://www.etzion.org.il/he/halakha/orach-chaim/prayer-and-blessings/%D7%AA%D7%A4%D7%99%D7%9C%D7%94-%D7%91%D7%9E%D7%A0%D7%99%D7%99%D7%9F
With God’s help, on the eve of the holy Sabbath, “and He called their name Adam,” 5783
If the matter of “kevod hatzibbur,” because of which the Sages prevented a woman from reading publicly, were connected to women’s inferior status—then they should have allowed an “important woman” to read from the Torah in public, just as they permitted and even required her to recline.
But nowhere is woman’s supposed inferiority mentioned as a reason to prevent her from reading in public. In the Rishonim (Ri”d and Ritva) there is mention of the concern that people will say the men do not know how to read themselves, and therefore they need a woman to read for them. This is similar to what they said: “May a curse come upon one whose wife and children discharge his obligation,” showing that he is too lazy to learn to recite the blessing himself, and that this teaches that the blessing is not important in his eyes.
Rabbi Yosef Messas raises the reasoning that the main reason for preventing a woman from public reading is the concern for immodesty, erotic thoughts, and levity, which naturally may intensify in a setting of joint prayer and reading. And if they were concerned about this in the time of Chazal, then all the more so in our generations, in which unfortunately immodesty has become a “norm.” How much chatter and levity unfortunately occur even in a minyan made up only of men; all the more so there is reason for concern when “the eye sees and the heart desires.”
His words can be supported: “kevod hatzibbur” here is a matter of modesty, from the words of the Jerusalem Talmud in Sanhedrin, which explains the one who says that at a funeral the women walk at the end as being “for the honor of the daughters of Israel, so that they should not set eyes on them.” And this fits well with Chazal’s position that the separation of men and women at the Simchat Beit HaShoevah was a “great enactment,” which became the model for separating men and women in synagogues and public gatherings.
Some matters of “kevod hatzibbur” mean that the honor of the congregation requires maximal beautification. Thus, for example, even though printed chumashim have greater sanctity than a synagogue, one does not read from them in public, because in public one must insist on the maximum embellishment of a complete Torah scroll. So too in matters of modesty: even though hearing a woman’s voice when it is not a singing voice is not forbidden, nevertheless for public Torah reading we adopt the highest standard of modesty and avoid all mingling and all listening to a woman’s voice.
With blessings, Yaron Fishel Ordner
It should also be noted that the cantillation tunes of Ashkenazim and Sephardim are literally a “singing voice.” It may be that in the time of Chazal the melody of the cantillation was simpler, as it is today among Yemenites, and then refraining from hearing a woman’s reading was only a matter of extra modesty due to “kevod hatzibbur”; but with the tunes and vocal flourishes of Ashkenazim and Sephardim, this is literally a singing voice.
From the wording of the baraita, “All may be counted among the seven, even a slave, even a minor, and even a woman; but the Sages said that a woman should not read in public because of kevod hatzibbur”—it can be understood that even after the Sages said, “a woman should not read in public,” the original rule that a woman counts toward the seven was not nullified, and what the Sages said, “a woman should not read in public,” is only ab initio (and so explained the author of Chasdei David).
However, Rambam (and likewise the סמ”ג) cited only the latter clause: “a woman should not read in public because of kevod hatzibbur,” and did not mention at all that “a woman counts toward the seven.” This apparently implies that after the Sages enacted that a woman should not read in public, the earlier rule that a woman counts toward the seven was nullified. This requires clarification.
With blessings, Yefa”or
Hil. Slaves ch. 8:
7: A slave whose master married him to a free woman, or whose master placed tefillin on his head, or whose master told him to read three verses from the Torah scroll before the congregation, and anything similar in these matters that only a free man is obligated in—he has gone free, and we compel his master to write him a bill of manumission.
We see that according to Rambam the language of freedom is relevant to a woman. In addition, since women read from the Torah they are considered free persons. As stated, they exempted them because of kevod hatzibbur.
But what are we to do with the fact that the Talmud sees this as licentiousness? Was it not said: all the more so in our generation, when breaches have multiplied?
First, the fact that licentiousness has increased in our generation does not tell us whether because of that we should raise the walls higher or lower them. When the norms are different, the boundaries of modesty change accordingly. Even in the most conservative societies, women today engage in things that in the past people would never have dreamed of allowing them to do.
Beyond that, if there is a clear halakhic ruling, the Talmud has authority, perhaps even if the reason has lapsed. But in factual or evaluative determinations it has no authority. Now we must discuss whether including women is a halakhic determination or merely a consequence of an assessment of reality (an evaluative determination). The practical difference is what we do when reality changes. For example, there is a prohibition against having two courts and synagogues in one city (“lo titgodedu”), and today those prohibitions are trampled underfoot with pride. I understand that this is because reality has changed, and in our dynamic world a city is not what it once was. Likewise, local custom has become ethnic custom (ancestral custom). The same applies to the discussion of absorption of forbidden substances in utensils.
Once the reason is stated in the body of the law, my conclusion is that the law depends on the reason (as several halakhic authorities wrote regarding rabbinic enactments whose rationale is given alongside them, such as: one may not read by candlelight lest he tilt the lamp).
It has been accepted throughout the generations that women do not join a minyan, even though there is no source for this anywhere. It is entirely reasonable that their inclusion in a minyan is part of that same matter.
Rambam writes that if a woman wants to go out to work, that is grounds for divorcing her. She is supposed to sit at home. Does anyone today think to act that way in practice?
Hello Rabbi, and thank you for the wonderful column (:
Does the rabbi have answers to the words of Yaron Fishel Ordner
(the commenter above me under the name ‘Chazal recognized the reality of an ‘important woman’ but did not exempt her from the rule that “a woman may not read in public”‘) ??
First, not every law is written explicitly in the Talmud. It does not say that she is not exempted; it simply does not say that she is exempted. One can certainly say that they did not mention it because they were not dealing with that, but the simple assumption is that she should be exempted.
Beyond that, when there are exceptional women, they are not treated separately—lo plug. When a woman reads, it is an affront to kevod hatzibbur, because no one thinks that perhaps this is an important woman. But when this becomes the characteristic of women in general, the law itself changes because there is no affront to kevod hatzibbur. When people see a woman reading, no one imagines that there is any affront here to the honor of the congregation.
Something similar was asked of me regarding righteous gentiles that existed in the past—why Chazal did not exempt them regarding halakhic obligations toward them (as per the Meiri). That is not a difficulty on me but on the Meiri, of course. And the answer is the same. Then Chazal thought these were exceptions, and therefore they did not change the law with respect to them. But today this is the ordinary rule, and therefore the law changes.
Thank you very much, Rabbi
To the male listener and the female listener.