This weekend we mark Rosh Hodesh Kislev, the month in which Chanukah falls. The word Chanukah itself means dedication, because that is what the Maccabees did: they rededicated the Temple in Jerusalem and made it fit, proper, kosher, for Jewish worship again. The Maccabees fought for religious freedom, the privilege to worship as Jews as Jews see fit.

For 25 years a group of women have gathered every Rosh Hodesh at the Western Wall, the Kotel, the last remaining remnant of that same Temple that the Maccabees fought to preserve. Those women want the right to worship as Jews, as women, as they see fit. For 25 years I have stood with them, usually from a distance, and today I salute their work. Tomorrow they are expecting 700+ people to join them at the Kotel itself. I will be in Northfield at a Torah service held in solidarity.

Why is their work important? Because even this weekend, I was asked questions about why a woman would or would not cover her head or wear a kippah, how is a woman wearing a tallit not penis envy, how can a woman even be on the bimah?

For me, these are easy answers. What surprises me, but probably shouldn’t, is that we have to keep answering these questions over and over again. So here goes.

I wear a kippah to remind me that G-d is above. For me it is a sign of humility and it keeps me in check. It does not have to do with women’s modesty and the fact that I am a married woman.

I wear a tallit because in Numbers it says that all the people should wear a fringed garment. That morphed over time to the rabbi, then married men, then men over Bar Mitzvah age. I like the what Psalms says: “Bless Adonai, O my soul. Adonai, My God, You are very great, You are clothed in glory and majesty. You have wrapped yourself with a garment of light, spreading out the heavens like a curtain.” When I put on my tall it and encase myself in its soft, warm cloth, I wrap myself in that Divine light. It is one of the most powerful moments of my prayer. While I am not male, I am a rabbi, so it is a sign of my rabbinic office.

Women are expected, even commanded to pray. While exempt from positive, time-bound mitzvot, tefilah itself was not exempt precisely because G-d is described as Rachaman, the Merciful One. (Berachot 20b). There has been much written about this topic, in much greater depth than I can go into here. If people want or need resources I will be happy to provide them. But let me reiterate, no man has the right to harass, arrest, throw stones or chairs, spit on, hit or beat anyone, male or female for davenning. For any reason. That is not consistent with Jewish halacha. Period. That is why we need Women of the Wall. To continue to make this point. To continue to protect a woman’s right to pray. To be able to pray at the most holy site in Judaism. As it used to be. Without fear of reprisal. Just in order to pray, to have a conversation with G-d in the place where G-d is closest to us.

This was also the weekend in our congregation where we celebrated a Bat Mitzvah of a remarkable young woman. She is the daughter of an Orthodox mother who isn’t comfortable with women on the bimah. However, she allows her children to learn Judaism, to learn halacha and to make their own decisions based on that knowledge. With her mother’s blessing, my Bat Mitzvah student took on as one of her projects, writing a formal responsum on women’s head coverings. She then presented it to the ritual committee who discussed it at two ritual committee meetings. She drew extensively on halachic material on the Women of the Wall website.Teshuvah on Women’s Headcoverings and Talitot for Congregation Kneseth Israel Web

Her maftir parsha from Toldot spoke about digging wells, one of mayyim hayyim, fresh living waters and one of sitneh, hostility. Another reason for Women of the Wall has to be passing down our tradition as one of living waters that refresh the soul, not one of hostility, hate and fear.

As I stood next to my student, reading Torah on the bimah, I had goosebumps when she read the words mayyim hayyim. I was proud of her–and proud of her mother–who gave her daughter the space and the tools to learn and learned right along with her. He d’var Torah linking this all together brought us light as we move into Kislev.

So as we celebrate Rosh Hodesh Kislev with its focus on dedication and light, I rededicate myself to prayer–like that of our matriarchs, Hagar and Hannah, Miriam and Deborah.