Showing posts with label gender. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gender. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Why (some) Woman Don't Go to Shul

The following is a blog post from the Times of Israel from Hadassah Levy and I really thought it was good fodder for davening discussions.  One comment (from a female) that responded to this article was the following:
I admit that 'going to shul' for me always meant dressing up and going to see people. This was certainly more appealing when shul ended at 11:30 instead of 10am. But frankly, it's not just shul that is boring... it's davening. And I think it is definitely a personality thing.
I think Levy raises some good points about the difficulty balance it is for moderns to find a communal role as well as religious balance, but I think the greater dissatisfaction with davening is symptomatic of a greater problem plaguing Jewish life today.
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There has recently been a spate of articles online about the experiences of women in synagogues. Rivkah Lambert Adler wrote about her frustration at the inferior seating available to women in shul. The women’s section is generally much smaller than the men’s, the chairs are sometimes less comfortable and the position of the women’s section is not always conducive to hearing and seeing. After Pesach, Hadassah Sabo Milner wrote about the uplifting experience of carrying the Torah through the women’s section. She mentions her negative feelings for her local shul, where you can only see from the front row and her preference for curling up with a good book instead.

Rabbi Reuven Spolter blogged about the deplorable state of some shuls’ women’s sections. He pointed out that shul-going for women is more common outside Israel, where the synagogue is a community center as well as a place for prayer. And that more attention is given to the architecture of the women’s section in American shuls, since the women are more involved.

All of these discussions have made me wonder whether women who don’t go to shul are simply uninterested in communal prayer or whether circumstances are keeping them away. As a shul-goer myself, I wasn’t sure why many women tend to avoid shul, so I asked my social media connections their reasons for not going. The main reasons cited were:
  • My children can’t sit and there is no place for them to play – While some shuls (primarily outside of Israel) offer activities for children during davening, these activities don’t usually occupy the smallest children. In Israeli shuls it is common to find kids playing in a nearby park while their parents daven, but this is a solution which works only for older children who can play unsupervised.
  • It ends too early – This is a complaint in Israeli shuls, which generally start at 8 AM or 8:30 and finish around 10 AM. Since Israelis have no other day to sleep late in the morning, many moms find that by the time they have had a little lie-in and are ready to go out, the congregation is already filing out and getting ready to go home.
  • The women’s section is too loud and distracting for proper prayer – Between the women talking to each other and the young children making noise, it is hard to concentrate on davening in shul. Davening at home offers a distraction-free environment for serious prayer.
  • Tradition – Many women have been brought up to consider davening at shul a men’s activity. Their mothers and grandmothers did not go to shul, so they don’t feel the need to either. After all, the halachic obligation to pray in a minyan applies only to men.
  • It’s too long/boring – Not everyone succeeds in connecting to God through structured communal prayer.

Although many people still feel that shul is relevant for men only, the trend in Orthodoxy is for women to be more active in communal life, and shul is at the center of it. Women today are not necessarily concerned only with their obligations. Many mitzvot from which women are exempt are being widely observed: Sefirat HaOmer, Sukkah and Torah study are some examples. Additionally, a basic Jewish education should make it possible for a woman to walk into shul at any time and know what the congregation is up to. If women don’t take their daughters to shul with them, how is this to be accomplished?

My unscientific study of the reasons women choose not to attend shul shows that if certain changes were made, many more women would come. Childcare, a later davening time and a more comfortable women’s section would certainly go a long way toward bringing more women to shul. Efforts to make davening more interesting (with more singing, perhaps?) would be appreciated by both men and women. Although sweeping changes are always slow to come (especially in the Orthodox world), individual communities can surely make their shuls more welcoming to women.

The Beis Yaakov schools were established to prevent a situation in which women become educated in secular studies, yet remain ignorant in Torah. Similarly, our shuls should not be empty of women, when our courthouses, offices, teachers’ rooms and batei midrash are full of them.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Honesty and Tefilla

A friend recommend to me this anonymous article published at JewishIdeas.org titled "What About Me? A Blog Essay by a Frum Man with Complaints" on April 24th, 2012.  While there is much to say about this blog essay, from gender roles in a post-modern society to the complexity of personal identity in the modern workplace.

The author, in eloquent frustration, describes the pressures to find time in his day to do anything, from eating to davening.  (Warning, you have to read the whole essay to understand the tone the author takes).

I once approached a rabbi with the following inquiry: why do we daven so much if Torah study is greater than davening and our schedules don’t allow for much Torah study. He told me that my question wasn’t really why do we daven so much but why don’t I study Torah more. (Evidently, I don’t even understand my own questions.) He told me that I should study Torah 4 hours a day. Then he stood up and walked away. 
I concluded that either he couldn’t do simple math or he just didn’t understand the life of the baal habayit.
His venting continues:
I have seen gallons of ink spilled on the topic of women and tefillah, whether they can be called up for aliyot or have their own prayer groups. (I wonder what percentage of women really desires these.) I understand the frustration with the rules. I don’t want to shut down conversation there. But I would like to see some conversation on men and tefillah. After all, we all are required to spend nearly two hours a day doing it. Can it be made shorter? Can I skip some pieces if I am utterly exhausted? For all the halakhic gymnastics that go on around agunah, pre-nuptial agreements, and women’s prayer, there is no attempt to help make davening a bit more manageable for men. Yet, adjustments even slight ones to davening, I have never heard mentioned, considered, or discussed ever. 
I feel bad complaining about davening because theoretically it is an opportunity to speak to the Almighty. However, the whole thing starts to unravel when the volume and frequency bumps up against the American materialistic rat race. As one sympathetic rabbi said to me, you spend the days counting milliseconds on your computer. How can you be expected to just stop and daven a 10 minute Shemoneh Esrei? The sheer quantity of prayers forces one to rush and all the feeling goes out the window. 
Two hours a day, three appointments a day. This is a big issue. I don’t see it discussed. Moreover, I really can’t think of a time that I read an article in an Orthodox publication about the plight of the male baal habayit in general, or went to a topical presentation on the subject. I don’t hear anybody getting outraged or looking for solutions. I don’t see people gathering in protest outside the houses of the people who make life very difficult for baal habatim.

His thesis is restated again at the end of essay: 
 My gripe is that we should be working a little as a community to help men deal with their struggles just as we work a lot to help women deal with theirs. In my view, we fail terribly at this task. We hardly take it on at all. And the baal habayit, the typical Orthodox Jewish man, is left asking, “What about me?”

What are your thoughts on this post?   Are Orthodox men's tefilla struggles under-represented in community discussions?  Is there really time in a working person's schedule for meaningful tefilla?