Chapter 11: Domestic Torah - Jewish Women as Liturgical Guardians
On a Friday afternoon in 18th-century Eastern Europe, a woman named Glikl bat Yehuda of Hameln stood in her kitchen, kneading challah dough and humming a Shabbat hymn. The flour-dusted table held more than bread: it held memory. She would soon light the candles, bless her children, and recite prayers that her mother and grandmother had once whispered. Upstairs, in a quiet room, she also kept a handwritten journal—not in Hebrew, but in Yiddish, the vernacular tongue of Ashkenazi Jews. In its pages, she wove together Torah commentary, ethical instruction, family history, and business advice.¹
Glikl's memoir, written between 1691 and 1719, is the first known sustained autobiography by a Jewish woman. It was never intended for public publication. It was meant for her children—and for God. Her text offers a rare window into the religious world of Jewish women who were not rabbis or scribes, but nevertheless served as custodians of tradition.
In rabbinic Judaism, the formal transmission of sacred texts—Torah, Talmud, halakhic (Jewish legal) commentary—has long been dominated by men. Traditional rabbinic authority required mastery of Hebrew, Aramaic, and complex exegetical methods, and women were historically excluded from such study. But this exclusion from textual production did not mean exclusion from textual preservation. Jewish women carried sacred knowledge not in parchment, but in practice—through song, ritual, storytelling, and vernacular prayer.
They made Torah live in the home.
Medieval Jewish legal codes like the Shulchan Aruch mandated that men study Torah, but they also emphasized women's role in transmitting halakhah within the domestic sphere. Women lit Shabbat candles, kept kosher, managed festivals, taught blessings to children, and preserved oral customs that sometimes diverged from rabbinic rulings.² Their influence on religious formation was subtle but pervasive.
One of the most vital tools of Jewish female spiritual life was the tkhines (supplications)—personal prayers written in Yiddish, often composed by women and passed from mother to daughter. These prayers were not official liturgy. They were poetic, emotional, and highly specific: a prayer for a daughter's match, for safety in childbirth, for a husband's health, for the peace of Jerusalem.³
Some tkhines were published and attributed to male rabbis to gain communal approval. But many were anonymously composed and circulated in worn pamphlets tucked into women's prayer books. Scholars now believe that these prayers reflect a rich, gendered theology—expressing trust in God, negotiation with divine justice, and spiritual agency in times of crisis.⁴
The tkhines tradition demonstrates how women created forms of religious expression that evolved alongside but separate from formal rabbinic literature. These prayers addressed experiences often absent from male-authored liturgy: the anxiety of matchmaking, the physical dangers of childbirth, the emotional labor of maintaining Jewish households. In doing so, they preserved a distinctly female theological voice within Judaism.
In the Sephardic world, women played similar roles as salonieres—hosts of gatherings where midrashic stories and Torah commentary were discussed in Judeo-Spanish (Ladino). In Ottoman Salonika and Istanbul, these salons offered women both social engagement and religious education. They often invited itinerant preachers, singers, and storytellers to share interpretations that bridged elite scholarship and everyday piety.⁵ Mizrahi Jewish women in Arab lands maintained parallel traditions, preserving religious songs, folk tales, and holiday customs that complemented the textual tradition of their communities.
Jewish women also preserved texts through material culture. Embroidered Torah mantles, inscribed wedding ketubot (marriage contracts), and illustrated Passover Haggadot often passed through female hands. These artifacts carried not only ritual function but generational memory. In some communities, women added personal notations to sacred objects—names, dates, comments—traces of their theological imprint.
The role of women as religious transmitters evolved significantly in modern times. Jewish women's education expanded in 19th-century Europe with the rise of Beit Yaakov schools, which taught girls Hebrew and Jewish texts while maintaining traditional gender roles. In the United States and Israel, women began writing Torah commentary, founding feminist midrash collectives, and training as soferot (scribes)—though this development sparked significant halakhic (Jewish legal) debate.
The question of women serving as soferot illustrates the complex denominational context of contemporary Jewish religious authority. Orthodox authorities remain divided: some reject women's scribal work entirely, while others permit it for certain ritual objects but not Torah scrolls. Conservative and Reform movements have generally embraced women scribes, viewing the restriction as historically contingent rather than theologically necessary. Modern Israeli law recognizes women's work for civil purposes, though religious authorities may not accept it for ritual use.⁶
One of the most powerful examples comes from Aviel Barclay, a Canadian-born woman who became one of the first known Orthodox Jewish female scribes in the early 2000s. Trained in the ancient methods of writing Torah scrolls, Barclay has produced mezuzot (doorpost scrolls) and megillot (holiday scrolls) that some Orthodox authorities accept for ritual use.⁷ Her work sparked global conversation about women's place in the chain of transmission—and about how the "domestic Torah" might now become textual Torah once again.
Contemporary scholars like Chava Weissler and Rachel Elior have pioneered the recovery of women's religious traditions, showing how seemingly marginal practices like tkhine composition and household ritual management constituted sophisticated forms of theological expression.⁸ Their work demonstrates that women's exclusion from formal religious authority was historically variable rather than theologically mandated.
"A woman's tears open the gates of heaven."
—Traditional tkhine, printed Vilna, 1760, anonymous
They did not sit in yeshivas or write responsa, but they sang the Psalms while stirring soup, whispered liturgy while lighting candles, and tucked vernacular prayers into the folds of ritual life. Their Torah was not written on scrolls but sewn into memory, recited around tables, and carried in stories passed through generations. It was sacred. It was theirs. And it endured.
Also Remembered
Glikl of Hameln (17th–18th century, Germany): Memoirist whose writings offer insight into Jewish domestic theology and ethical thought. Her work represents the evolution of women's religious expression from oral tradition to written memoir.
Bruriah (2nd century CE, Roman Judea): Wife of Rabbi Meir, remembered for her halakhic knowledge and Talmudic debate skills. She represents early evidence of women's capacity for legal scholarship within rabbinic tradition.
Women Tkhine Composers (17th–19th century, Eastern Europe): Anonymous authors of vernacular prayers addressing women's spiritual needs. Their work created a parallel liturgical tradition that survived for centuries.
Sephardic Salon Women (16th–18th century, Ottoman Empire): Hosts and transmitters of oral midrash and cultural memory. They maintained Jewish learning in Ladino-speaking communities.
Mizrahi Tradition Keepers (medieval–modern, Arab lands): Women who preserved Hebrew and Judeo-Arabic religious songs, holiday customs, and folk wisdom across generations of cultural transition.
Contemporary Soferot (21st century, global): Women scribes like Aviel Barclay who have reclaimed textual transmission roles, sparking ongoing halakhic debates about women's religious authority.
Notes
- This opening scene represents a plausible reconstruction based on Glikl's own memoir and documented practices of Jewish women's household religious life in 18th-century Europe. While specific details are constructed for narrative purposes, the elements described—Shabbat preparation, vernacular prayer, and memoir-writing—are historically attested in her writings. See Chava Turniansky, ed., Glikl: Memoirs 1691–1719 (Brandeis University Press, 2019), Introduction.
- Judith Hauptman, Rereading the Rabbis: A Woman's Voice (Westview Press, 1998), 137–140.
- Devra Kay, Seyder Tkhines: The Forgotten Book of Common Prayer for Jewish Women (Jason Aronson, 2004), 23–29.
- Chava Weissler, Voices of the Matriarchs: Listening to the Prayers of Early Modern Jewish Women (Beacon Press, 1999), 45–61.
- Renée Levine Melammed, Heretics or Daughters of Israel? The Crypto-Jewish Women of Castile (Oxford University Press, 1999), 88–94.
- On halakhic debates regarding women scribes, see Mendel Shapiro, "Qeri'at ha-Torah by Women: A Halakhic Analysis," The Edah Journal 1, no. 2 (2001); Rabbi Daniel Sperber, "Women and Men in Communal Prayer: Halakhic Perspectives," in Women and Men in Communal Prayer (KTAV, 2010), 67–89.
- Ilana Kurshan, "In Her Own Hand," Lilith Magazine, Winter 2005.
- Chava Weissler, Voices of the Matriarchs, 1–18; Rachel Elior, The Mystical Origins of Hasidism (Littman Library, 2006), 156–189.
Further Reading
Chava Weissler, Voices of the Matriarchs: Listening to the Prayers of Early Modern Jewish Women (Beacon Press, 1999). Foundational study of women's vernacular prayer traditions and their theological significance.
Judith Hauptman, Rereading the Rabbis: A Woman's Voice (Westview Press, 1998). Analysis of women's roles in rabbinic literature and Jewish legal tradition.
Chava Turniansky, ed., Glikl: Memoirs 1691–1719 (Brandeis University Press, 2019). Critical edition of the first known Jewish woman's autobiography with extensive historical context.
Rachel Elior, The Mystical Origins of Hasidism (Littman Library, 2006). Includes discussion of women's roles in preserving and transmitting Jewish mystical traditions.
Renée Levine Melammed, Heretics or Daughters of Israel? The Crypto-Jewish Women of Castile (Oxford University Press, 1999). Study of Sephardic women's religious practices and cultural preservation.
Devra Kay, Seyder Tkhines: The Forgotten Book of Common Prayer for Jewish Women (Jason Aronson, 2004). Collection and analysis of Yiddish women's prayers with historical commentary.