Unpacking the Iggerot: Mehitza
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Unpacking the Iggerot: Mehitza / Iggerot Moshe, O.H., vol. 1, #39
Summarizing the Iggerot
In 1946, R. Dovid Stern, of Yeshiva Torah Vodaath, observed that many synagogues in the United States were not interested in maintaining a mehitza (partition) between men and women. He granted the benefit of the doubt, that perhaps the masses were simply unaware of the necessity for such a measure, so he requested R. Moshe Feinstein to present his analysis of the topic.
Out of the gate, R. Feinstein asserts that a mehitza is not merely a custom or even a rabbinically mandated measure, but rather that it carries the full force of Biblical law. The basis of this position is derived from the following Talmudic passage:
The Sages taught in the Tosefta: Initially, women would stand on the inside of the Women’s Courtyard, closer to the Sanctuary to the west, and the men were on the outside in the courtyard and on the rampart. And they would come to conduct themselves with inappropriate levity in each other’s company, as the men needed to enter closer to the altar when the offerings were being sacrificed and as a result they would mingle with the women. Therefore, the Sages instituted that the women should sit on the outside and the men on the inside, and still they would come to conduct themselves with inappropriate levity. Therefore, they instituted in the interest of complete separation that the women would sit above and the men below. The Gemara asks: How could one do so, i.e., alter the structure of the Temple? But isn’t it written with regard to the Temple: “All this I give you in writing, as the Lord has made me wise by His hand upon me, even all the works of this pattern” (I Chronicles 28:19), meaning that all the structural plans of the Temple were divinely inspired; how could the Sages institute changes? Rav said: They found a verse, and interpreted it homiletically and acted accordingly: It is stated: “The land will eulogize, each family separately; the family of the house of David separately, and their women separately, the family of the house of Nathan separately, and their women separately” (Zechariah 12:12). This indicates that at the end of days a great eulogy will be organized during which men and women will be separate. They said: And are these matters not inferred a fortiori? If in the future, at the end of days referred to in this prophecy, when people are involved in a great eulogy and consequently the evil inclination does not dominate them, as typically during mourning inappropriate thoughts and conduct are less likely, and nevertheless the Torah says: Men separately and women separately; then now that they are involved in the Celebration of the Drawing of the Water, and as such the evil inclination dominates them, since celebration lends itself to levity, all the more so should men and women be separate. (Sukka 51b-52a, Steinsaltz translation).
Considering there is arguably a Biblical basis not to tamper with the architecture of the Temple, it stands to reason that only another Biblical consideration could supersede it. Therefore the imperative to segregate the genders must be Biblical in origin and rather than being devised by the Prophets, who are actually just pointing to an earlier established Pentatuchal principle.
R. Feinstein further concludes that in keeping with the prooftext from Sukka, the same way the Temple incorporated a balcony for the women so too synagogues should as well. And only if that is not viable would a mehitza on the same level as the men be acceptable. Such a mehitza would not need to prevent seeing the opposite gender, but be at least around shoulder level to obviate any potential kalut rosh or frivolity between the sexes.
Interestingly, this seems to be contradicted by Rambam in his Commentary on the Mishnah (Sukka 5:2) where the reason for the balconies was “so that the men would not gaze as the women.” This would essentially mean that a mehitza would need to be tall enough to prevent line of sight.
However, R. Feinstein dismisses this with two arguments: First, he suggests that Rambam does not believe that the gazing is the main issue, but that if the men could see the women they would subsequently attempt to interact with them, which would thereby lead to frivolity.
While this might be a forced reading, his second answer is arguably much stronger. When we look at Rambam in his Mishneh Torah (Hilkhot Beit ha-Behira 5:9), he instead identifies the purpose of segregating the sexes “in order that they not be mixed with each other.” Meaning, the primary concern is not about potential gazing, but that they should not be able to physically intermingle. And while there may appear to be a contradiction within Rambam’s writings, R. Feinstein is adamant that when it comes to matters of halakha we certainly defer to his legal magnum opus, the Mishneh Torah, which is consonant with R. Feinstein’s thesis.
Nonetheless, he adds “that those who are stringent to raise the mehitza so that [the men] cannot see [the women’s] heads – may a blessing be upon them.”
R. Feinstein further entertains a potential distinction between the Temple and the synagogue. While the Temple may require a physical separation Biblically, perhaps a synagogue only necessitates it rabbinically. Nonetheless, he is certain that, at minimum, during times of prayer, Torah learning, and the like, that a mehitza would be required in a synagogue on a Biblical level.
The Temple required a partition and, by extension, so do our synagogues. But what of other contexts? R. Feinstein writes toward the end of the responsum that “if there is no mandated gathering [such as a prayer service with a minyan], it would be permissible [for men and women to be together] even in the Temple.” After all, how else did the High Priest Eli notice and approach Hannah who was praying for a son (I Samuel 1:11-15). Moreover, based on the Talmud (Kiddushin 52b, and Tosafot, ad loc.) it would seem that both men and women were permitted to traverse the Temple courtyard on typical days uninhibited, and that the Simhat Beit ha-Shoeva was the exception to the rule. Defining the parameters of what is a “mandated gathering,” what is not, and other details, will be elaborated upon in the next section.
Connecting the Iggerot
In one of his many follow-up responsa, R. Feinstein offered a more specific parameter for the height of a mehitza (O.H., vol. 3, #23). Unlike most areas of halakha, such as the laws of Eruvin and Sukka, in which a wall need only be ten tefahim tall (about 38 inches according to the most stringent opinion), to prevent interaction between the men and women would require the partition to reach shoulder height, which he figures to be about eighteen tefahim. He makes an interesting assertion that women nowadays are shorter than in yesteryear and that Rashbam’s interpretation of the eighteen tefahim may be adopted, which equals about five feet.
When he was pressed later in life to elaborate on the basis of his calculations for a mehitza, he conceded that “there are no precise measurements for these matters, rather the parameter of [the measurement] for a mehitza is rooted in common sense (davar sikhli), for a mehitza needs to be able to prevent interaction between men and women” (Mesoret Moshe, vol. 1, p. 48).
While R. Feinstein contended that the purpose of a mehitza was about preventing interaction rather than blocking line of sight, he had to reckon with what should be done in the event that the women were not dressed in a manner consonant with normative halakha. Regarding hair covering, he adopts a similar approach to the Arukh ha-Shulhan, that while women are obligated to cover their hair, the exposure of hair does not constitute erva, or categorical “nudity,” preventing the recitation of certain prayer when such is visible. On the other hand, if they are attending shul with sleeveless dresses it would be necessary for there to be some way to block the line of sight from the men’s section, even if the women are situated on the balcony (see O.H., vol. 1, #42-43).
There was also a rather amusing reply (O.H., vol. 1, #41) to a question from R. Shmuel Tuvia Stern of Kansas City, who asked if women were standing on an elevated platform of 4×10 tefahim would it not require a mehitza as those dimensions constitute a separate domain in other areas of halakha. R. Feinstein expresses his puzzlement at the very premise: If the women are that high up, forget having a mehitza, they need a ma’akeh, a Biblically mandated fence to prevent them from falling!
R. Stern had also offered a speculation that perhaps there was no need for a mehitza during the actual prayer services, since it is such a solemn time not susceptible to frivolity. R. Feinstein expressed horror at the mere thought of it: “May the Master forgive you! …. There is no leniency in that they are in the midst of performing a mitzva … on the contrary, there is somewhat of a basis to state that the prohibition of interaction [between the genders] in the Temple emerges from the obligation to [go beyond baseline standards and] of the reverence to be shown in the Temple..”
At the conclusion of the original responsum, we were provided with a significant distinction between mandated gatherings, which require a mehitza, and discretionary gatherings that do not. In yet another follow up (O.H. vol. 1, #41) R. Feinstein adduced a proof from that the fact that men and women partook in the Passover offering together, yet there is no mention of a mehitza segregating them (Pesahim 64b). He strengthens this inference from the Talmud’s prohibition against women and male slaves dining together that women partaking of a meal with a group of freemen would be permissible (Pesahim 91a).
Interestingly, in a late 1985 responsum (Y.D., vol. 4, #24) he reframes his distinction as being one of public versus private gatherings, as opposed to mandated versus discretionary ones. As weddings are generally invite-only, they would be classified as private gatherings thereby not necessitating a mehitza.
R. Nahum Rabinovich writes: “I merited to see the great R. Moshe Feinstein, may his memory be for a blessing, at family weddings and parties—alongside other Rabbinic luminaries—and there was no mehitza, for this was the common custom” (Responsa Siah Nahum, E.H., #112). R. Eli D. Clark, likewise reports, based on conversations with R. Dr. Moshe D. Tendler and R. Reuven Feinstein, that “at some of the weddings of R. Feinstein’s children, men and women were seated together at the same tables” (“Mixed Seating at Weddings,” Journal of Halacha and Contemporary Society 35 [Spring 1998], pp. 55–56).
However, R. Shmuel Yaakov Haber, in Et Tzenuim Hakhma (vol. 2, p. 519, fn. 108), records an ostensibly conflicting report from R. Reuven Feinstein that while his father did not require a mehitza at a wedding, he did still maintain that the men and women should be seated separately. It is possible that both reports can be reconciled based on what R. Chaim Mintz reports that it was specifically family events in in which R. Feinstein did not insist on separate seating, while events which were more public in nature would require it (Zkeinekha Yomru Lakh, p. 34).
Despite any relative flexibility that R. Feinstein espoused on the matter, he nonetheless expressed frustration with the insistence that men and women must be seated together in the first place: “There is no individual who is so insistent as to always sit next to his wife [at every single event]. This is a foolishness that many in America have taught themselves” (Mesoret Moshe, vol. 1, p. 408).
Reception of the Iggerot
There are many aspects of R. Feinstein’s theory of mehitza that were challenged. For instance, some questioned his classification of mandated versus discretionary gatherings as a meaningful distinction (see Takanat ha-Shavin, vol. 1, E.H., p. 408).
Leading the opposition was R. Yoel Teitelbaum, the Satmar Rav, who argued that the purpose of a mehitza is to prevent the men from seeing the women, not just impede interaction (Responsa Divrei Yoel, O.H., #10). Accordingly, a five-foot mehitza that merely reached the average women’s shoulders would be insufficient. But what of the Jews who were on the fence regarding their observance and for whom such austere requirements would risk pushing them over the edge to non-Orthodoxy? To that, he cites both R. Akiva Eiger and Hatam Sofer who responded to similar issues in the previous generation that “we cannot take responsibility for them.” In other words, the halakha is the halakha, and let the chips fall as they may.
R. Yonoson Rosman (Petihat ha-Iggerot, p. 33) points out that, regrettably, R. Teitelbaum did not give R. Feinstein credit where it was due: While it is true that he permitted a relatively low mehitza, compared to his colleagues, he did take a rather stringent step in arguing that it is a full force Biblical obligation (and not merely rabbinical or customary in origin). R. Teitelbaum does not seem to reckon with this factor in his analysis, which suggests he was in agreement with R. Feinstein on the more stringent elements of his responsum.
What are we to make of those, like the Satmar Rav, who adamantly opposed R. Feinstein head on : was it merely dispassionate Talmudic disputation or was there something deeper lurking below the surface.
In the introduction to the eighth volume of Iggerot Moshe, the editors (R. Shabtai Rapaport and R. Mordechai Tendler) assert that the Satmar opposition to R. Feinstein was rooted in the latter’s position as head of Agudas Yisroel, which did not adopt a sufficiently anti-Zionist philosophy in the Satmer Rav’s view. Accordingly, the critical response to R. Feinstein on mehitza, as well as artificial insemination and other matters might be contextualized as symptoms of a broader opposition (see Man Malki Rabbanan, p. 26).
We should point out, however, that R. Feinstein did not stand alone on the matter of mehitza. R. Yehiel Yaakov Weinberg (Responsa Seridei Eish, vol. 1, #8) unequivocally backed R. Feinstein and concurred with virtually everything he wrote on this topic:
And his words are clear to all who possess integrity of knowledge and who conceded the truth … rather it is the Hungarian rabbis who were excessively stringent … and while their intentions are noble … in our time the situation and nature has changed, for if the women remain at home and do not attend synagogue they will forget the Jewish faith entirely.
It is unremarkable that some scholars adopted R. Feinstein’s position while others disagreed, even vehemently. Yet, there were some who apparently could not reconcile their principled disagreement with R. Feinstein’s mehitza resposum, while also not daring to challenge him head on. R. Moshe Stern (Responsa Be’er Moshe, vol. 4, #147), instead, provides a rather enigmatic and creative reinterpretation of the responsa found in Iggerot Moshe:
It would seem that the gaon, the great R. Moshe Feinstein shlit”a intended this for the sake of Heaven … he did not, Heaven forfend, intend to exonerate [left-leaning American Jews], rather, very much on the contrary, with his fear preceding his wisdom, he wished to salvage a large portion of American Jews, lest they go astray entirely…. It was only due to his immense love for all Jews without exception … [but this love] can distort one’s perception of reality … and there is no doubt in my mind that the great and righteous R. Moshe Feinstein shlit”a, in the recesses of his pure heart, would also concur [with my analysis].
While this is likely a form of revisionism, it would appear to emerge from a profound reverence for R. Feinstein’s stature, to the point that R. Stern was willing to bend over backwards to provide what he felt was much needed reconciliation.
Reflecting on the Iggerot
While one might dismiss R. Stern’s revisionist reframing of R. Feinstein, he is correct that lurking behind this discourse was the threat emanating from the Conservative movement, which had largely dispensed with the requirement for a partition in the synagogue. This is not sociological theoretics, but is explicitly incorporated as a factor in Iggerot Moshe (O.H., vol. 6, #10) in a 1950 responsum to Louisville, Kentucky:
Regarding the synagogue that has a women’s section upstairs, and due to the height, the women who attend on Shabbat and Holidays refuse to ascend [the staircase], and this will cause them to go to a non-Orthodox synagogue. I responded that there is room in extenuating circumstances to permit that the women may be seated on the ground level with a mehitza between the men and women.
He further expresses his sympathies to rabbis serving in places like Memphis, Tennessee:
And I do not judge these rabbis unfavorably, for they could have done more but they were lenient with themselves due to the great challenge of earning a living. And perhaps also somewhat for the sake of Heaven, for if people were to leave [their synagogues] they would defect to the Conservatives, Heaven forfend. (O.H., vol. 4, #31)
There are many such instances both in Iggerot Moshe as well as the broader literature (see R. Baruch Litvin’s immense volume, The Sanctity of the Synagogue [Ktav Publishing House, 1987]). The challenge was so great that in a responsum to a synagogue in Dayton, Ohio, R. Feinstein laments how the rabbi himself had decided that if there is no mehitza then the men and women may as well sit together (O.H., vol. 1, #44). R. Feinstein writes that while there is no justification for the absence of a mehitza, there is an imperative to persuade them to at least sit separately, as there is a value in mitigating the sin and opting for the lesser of two evils.
The controversy over mehitzot is also an important data-point in rabbi-congregation dynamics. In a responsum to Sioux City, he laments “I have heard that in some places they were lenient due to the insistence of the laity” (O.H., vol. 3, #24). The same observation appears in the prior responsum (ibid, #23) as well.
Another element addressed in the aforementioned responsum is the question of which gender bears the ultimate responsibility. Perhaps, unsurprisingly, there are many data points, such as Iggerot Moshe (ibid, #23; cf. O.H. vol. 4, #32; and O.H. vol. 1, #43) which discuss the issue of admitting women who do not dress to halakhic standards. On the other hand, if the women are dressed appropriately and there is a legitimate, although perhaps lenient mehitza in place then the onus shifts to the men:
For the prohibition of gazing [at women in the synagogue] is similar to any other place, such as the public streets. If a man deliberately decides to gaze to derive gratification, then we cannot assume responsibilty for him [i.e., theman has chosen to sin of his own accord] (Iggerot Moshe, O.H., vol. 1, #40).
In other words, there is a dual-responsibility of the women to ensure appropriate attire and for the men to restrain themselves.
Finally, this topic is also instructive in how R. Feinstein crafted halakha for the masses. As we noted, communities from across the entire United States were eagerly and desperately seeking his counsel on this matter. While he did indeed permit a five-foot mehitza—and came under fire for it—it would seem that there was ironically little daylight between his actual preference and what his detractors contended: In Iggerot Moshe (O.H., vol. 1, #40) he writes “but certainly it is worthy for ba’alei nefesh to be stringent and to make the mehitza above head level—even when the women are above [on the balcony]” (see also vol. 1, #42). And in Iggerot Moshe (ibid., #43) he supported the installation of a one-way glass that the women could see through but the men could not see them. What made R. Moshe Feinstein the posek of America was his ability to discern the ideal from the baseline and to know how to accurately apply the appropriate standard for each community and individual who sought his counsel.
Endnote: See Iggerot Moshe (O.H. vol. 6, #11) in which R. Feinstein corrected someone who had misunderstood him to permit a mehitza of 54 inches, while he maintained his actual position was 60 inches. See also Mesoret Moshe (vol. 2, p. 33) regarding a synagogue having a non-permanent mehitza.
While not directly related to our analysis of the Iggerot Moshe, we should note the opinion of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik who suggested that the requirement for a mehitza is actually rooted in the prohibition of imitating the ways of the pagans (Nefesh ha-Rav, p. 232). See also Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm’s “Separate Pews in the Synagogue: A Social and Psychological Approach,” TRADITION 1:2 (Spring 1959), in which he arrived at a similar conclusion and provides ample support for it:
We do not know, historically, of any synagogue before the modern era where mixed pews existed. No documents and no excavations can support the notion that this breach of Jewish Law was ever accepted by Jews…. Because of the fact that Tradition clearly advocates separate seating, it is those who would change this millennial practice who must first prove their case….
We can now see why from this point of view the whole idea of mixed seating in the synagogue is thoroughly objectionable. It is an unambiguous case of religious mimicry. The alien model in this case is Christianity; worse yet, the specifically pagan root of Christianity….
See also Jonathan D. Sarna’s analysis of R. Lamm’s essay, “The Only Arrangement Acceptable to Serious-Minded Modern Jews,” TRADITION 53:3 (Summer 2021).
Prepare ahead for our next column (October 16) on erasing God’s Holy Name in print or on newer, technological information systems: Deleting the Divine / Iggerot Moshe, Y.D., vol. 1, #173
Moshe Kurtz is the rabbi of Cong. Sons of Israel in Allentown, PA, the author of Challenging Assumptions, and hosts the Shu”T First, Ask Questions Later.