“And do not erect for yourself a monument, which Hashem your G-d despises” (D’varim 16:22). “And even though it was beloved to Him in the days of the Patriarchs, now it is hated, being that [the Canaanites] made it into a standard for idol worship” (Rashi, ibid). Because things had changed over time, a form of worship that G-d had previously appreciated was now abhorred (as it were). Because this change occurred before the Torah was given, the result of this change could be incorporated within the Torah’s laws. [Why this form of worship was made off limits because it was used for idol worship, whereas others, such as altars and animal sacrifices, were not, is discussed by the commentators (see Ramban; see alsowww.aishdas.org/ta/5767/vayeitzei.pdf).] What about changes that occurred after the Torah was given? If something changed that affects how we relate to G-d, is there a way to adjust our mode of observance to facilitate strengthening our relationship with Him under these new and different circumstances?

This question is a bit misleading, as the same way changes that occurred before the laws were codified in the Torah could be accounted for, G-d — who is not limited by time and therefore knows the future with as much clarity as He knows the past — could account for any future changes as well. But what about the next level, rabbinic law? How are societal changes that occurred after the closing of the Talmud, or after the Talmudic discussions were codified into law (i.e. the Shulchan Aruch), taken into account? It can similarly be suggested that because of the impact of such codification, divine providence would ensure that nothing was codified that could not stand the test of time. Nevertheless, it is clear that some changes which occurred over time have impacted religious life, in various ways. And I don’t just mean prohibiting things that had been permitted (such as polygamy) or finding legitimate legal loop holes to maintain the spirit of the law (such as pruzbal). One such example is the transition from a very limited education for girls to the educational revolution widely attributed to Sara Schenirer, a change that was deemed necessary because it would bring about a wider and stronger level of religious observance in the women being educated and the families and generations they would build.

Recently, some have proposed/advocated for changes in the way synagogue services are conducted, citing similar reasons. I will leave a discussion about whether such changes are halachically permissible to those more qualified, or those even less humble, than I am. Nevertheless, there are certain seemingly simple points that some may have overlooked.

Although generalizations often lead to misconceptions, they can also be helpful when dealing with large groups (as opposed to individuals). And it should be quite obvious that there are differences between the genders. Having differences doesn’t make one better than the other, just different. Each has certain strengths, and, more specifically, are better equipped to deal with certain situations. As a team, the strength of one in a specific area helps both, as does the strength of the other in another area. There can be only one first baseman on the field at a time, and a team will be stronger with a strong first baseman and a strong second baseman than with two strong first basemen or two strong second basemen (since one will have to play out of position). Even though some women exceed in areas where men are usually stronger (and vice versa), a system designed for an entire population will use the “normal” template to maximize potential. And while some latitude for individuality is necessary, the advantages of consistency far outweigh the advantages of an individually-tailored “free-for all.”

Since the goal and purpose of religion is to maximize spiritual growth and be a vehicle to foster an ever-improving relationship with our Creator, the differences between men and women often mandate different “game-plans” for achieving this goal. What should “work” for most men may not work for most women (and vice versa), and insisting on both genders using the same formula can be counter-productive. (Of course if the goal is sameness, not spiritual growth, the latter will be sacrificed at the altar of the former; I am assuming, perhaps optimistically, that those who propose changing the way services are conducted are trying to increase spirituality, not promoting social reform for the sake of social reform.)  An objective look at our religious requirements, including those that are non-negotiable without crossing clearly established borders, will show that the requirements for men and for women are not the same. Changing things in areas that might be negotiable will not necessarily yield better results. The goal is to be (or become) holy, not just “feel holy” based on a misguided conception of what holiness is.

Another factor to consider is the changing role of the synagogue. In many (if not most) communities, the synagogue has become the primary location/setting within which to express one’s “Jewishness.” In that context, it becomes patently unfair to allow only half of our population to fully express themselves. But this is not how it was meant to be, nor is it the way it should be or has to be. Ideally, we can “express our Jewishness” wherever we are, whatever we are doing, in the way we act, how we react to and with others, and how we go about doing things. From a strictly ritualistic perspective, the three most prominent identifiers of religious observance are keeping Shabbos, keeping kosher, and keeping the laws of family purity, none of which apply more in a synagogue or during services than anywhere else. Blessings acknowledging G-d as the source of all things before and after we eat are made wherever we eat, although they may have become so routine (which, on one level, is a good thing) that we don’t think about them enough to consider them “expressions of our Jewishness.” The main function of the synagogue — prayer — need not be done in a synagogue (although it is ideal), and for the most important part of the prayer, the silent Amidah, there is absolutely no gender difference. The one “advantage” the synagogue has is that one must consciously decide to go there (as opposed to doing “Jewish” things wherever you happen to be), which makes us more aware that we are expressing our “Jewishness” when we are there than when we are elsewhere. Nevertheless, this false sense of the synagogue being the primary place where “Jewishness” is expressed is not enough of a reason to adjust how things are done during services.

To be sure, non-egalitarian services are clearly a turn-off for many, as without “taking a closer look” it smacks of misogyny. However, it would be no less fair to accuse proponents of maintaining traditional services as being misogynistic than it would be to accuse proponents of change as having ulterior motives. Are there accusations of reverse misogyny based on women being the caretakers of family purity, challah separation and candle-lighting? Are women less involved in child-rearing than men are, arguably the most important task of a Jewish home? What about hospitality in the home? By reconsidering the role the synagogue really plays in Jewish life, any gender differences that occur during services become far less consequential. And being that the point of the services is to get closer to G-d, and gender differences may preclude mimicking how the other gender conducts services from being beneficial in this regard, it seems highly inadvisable to change our traditional mode of service.