Expanding the Palace of Torah: Orthodoxy and Feminism (review)

Tamar Ross, an Associate Professor of Jewish Thought in the Department of Philosophy at Bar Ilan University and the central instructor of Jewish Thought at Midreshet Lindenbaum since its inception, has written one of the first books about Orthodoxy and feminism, Expanding the Palace of Torah.

It is ironic that on the first page of her preface Ross writes, “I never used to think of myself as a feminist. Even today I am not totally comfortable with this label.” On the other hand, she recognizes that religious believers who ignore feminism’s message do so at their own peril. Her first coming to grips with feminism was at a JOFA conference in 1996 where her talk on the potential impact of feminism on Orthodox Jewish theology was warmly received, in contrast to a chilly reception bestowed on another paper that she had earlier given at the Orthodox Forum at Yeshiva University. The present book is an outgrowth of those two papers.

The book is divided into five major parts: the first acknowledges the problem and discusses feminism and the halakhic tradition; the second explores halakhic malleability and its limits; the third evaluates revisionism and halakhic pro-activism; the fourth inquires about the role of interpretive traditions in expanding the palace of Torah; and the fifth includes Ross’s own visions for the future.

Throughout her book, Ross gives a thorough and excellent summary of the problematics of modern Orthodoxy’s attempts to account for women’s growing desire to have a more participatory role in Jewish religious life. She grapples with the question of formalism versus external considerations. She surveys the opinions of some modern Orthodox rabbis, choosing to focus on those who give formalistic reasons for their decisions. She contrasts those with past decisions, showing that perhaps considerations other than the formal ones had been paramount in earlier times. For example, she asks: “Can a formal principle explain the willingness of the rabbis in talmudic times to allow women to lay their hands on a sacrificial animal in order to grant them ‘spiritual pleasure,’ as opposed to the objection of many contemporary rabbis to passing them a Torah scroll to kiss in the synagogue?” (p. 83). She calls this and all of her other examples “anomalies,” the purpose of which is to call into question the notion of “pure” halakhah in a formal way. In her terms, halakhic positivism doesn’t work—that is, it cannot explain all of the anomalies. In addition to this, Ross identifies “a double standard of scrupulousness” for men and women in the non-formal principles used in modern halakhic discourse, terms such as zila milta, “disgrace of usual standards,” or ein ḥavuratan na·ah, “their company is unbecoming” (pp. 88–90). It seems to be hard for her to admit that the creation of double standards—and thus the exclusion of women—is exactly the point of creating the new principles. Indeed, feminist critique might note that the “anomalies” are really norms.

Ross, in an excellent survey of feminist sociological, theological, and halakhic theory, then goes on to describe suggestions for revamping the system. She shows the promise of the revisionists and their limits. The most important part of this section is her explanation of halakhah and its centrality to Judaism. She points out the approaches that take the line that biblical tradition needs to be revamped and improved upon are a serious threat to the notion of divine revelation. Moreover, reading the Bible as a thoroughly patriarchal document implies that it is the captive of unjust and ungodly forces in society and that it cannot be the word of God unfiltered by human bias. Ross summarizes these arguments: “What sort of God would ignore the voices, insights, and experiences of half the human race? Because the perspective of the Torah is limited, can we really credit it with being divine?” (p. 141).

In the conclusion to her chapter on...