In 11th Grade, I spent the Fall semester studying at Tichon Ramah Yerushalayim in Jerusalem, Israel. There we were expected to not only attend classes, but also attend regular daily liturgical services or minyan we organized ourselves. Largely coming from Conservative Jewish backgrounds, my classmates and I already firmly believed girls and women were equals in the eyes of Jewish law. We were part of a generation where girls having identical Bat Mitzvah ceremonies to boys had become standardized. A woman wearing a Tallit, Jewish prayer shawl, was far from extraordinary. What my male classmates and I were not prepared for were for our female counterparts to also choose to wear Tefillin, the black straps going around one’s arm and forehead used in the shacharit, morning service. This was a “male” garment. So, when a group of our female classmates came to our daily minyan wearing tefillin, several of my male classmates and I were horrified. We railed against them to our counselors, who told us while we could not get out services altogether, we could attend a small Orthodox service across the street. And that was what we did for the remainder of the semester.
In reading this week’s Torah portion, Pinchas, I am struck by the bravery of the daughters of Tzelafchad. Faced with the possibility of disinheritance after the death of their father, these five brave souls – Machlah, Noa, Hoglah, and Tirtzah – ask for their fate of the Israelite inheritance. Appealing to Moses, they say, “Our father died in the wilderness. He was not one of the faction, Korah’s faction, which banded together against God, but died for his own sin; and he has left no sons. Let not our father’s name be lost to his clan just because he had no son! Give us a holding among our father’s kinsmen!” (Numbers 27:3-4). Moses instead of punishing them for their insubordination, rewards them by acquiescing to their demands, changing the laws of inheritance for not only their family, but for any other woman in a similar situation.
As we have seen in America, egalitarianism is not usually something granted, but something that must be earned with many sacrifices along the way. The female students in our class who chose to wear Tefillin, did so not only for themselves, but for those that came after them as well. Radical egalitarian is the idea that “citizens must use activism to achieve the ultimate goal of satisfactory conditions for the entire population” (Wikipedia). Ideally this a collective and cooperative effort, however as we see in the Torah portion and in my own experience, it is often a few brave souls standing up for what is right that makes all the difference. In 11th Grade, I was on the other side of the divide, now I cannot imagine a Judaism where any division along gender, race or sexuality would even be considered.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Alex