Devotional Head Covering Source, Shulhan Arukh, Orekh Chayim 91:3-4

Translation partially by Sarah Mulhern.

Text:

שולחן ערוך אורח חיים הלכות תפלה סימן צא 

יש אומרים שאסור להוציא אזכרה מפיו בראש מגולה, * וי"א שיש למחות שלא ליכנס בבהכ"נ בגלוי הראש. 

סעיף ד

כובעים, (קפיל"ה בלעז) הקלועים מקש, חשיבא כסוי, אבל  הנחת יד על הראש לא חשיבא כסוי; ואם אחר מניח ידו על ראשו של זה, משמע דחשיבא כסוי. 

סעיף ה

ה לא יעמוד באפונדתו (טאסק"ה בלעז) ולא בראש מגולה ולא ברגלים מגולים, אם דרך אנשי המקום שלא יעמדו לפני הגדולים אלא בבתי רגלים. 

Translation:

91:3 There are those who say that it is forbidden to say the name of G-d with an uncovered head, and there are those who say that there is reason to object [and say] one should not enter a synagogue with an uncovered head.

91:4 Hats (Kipeleh in the vernacular) that are plaited from straw are considered a covering, but putting the hand on the head is not considered covering; and if another person rests his hand on this person's head, it is considered a covering.

91:5 One should not stand with his money bag/purse, and not with an uncovered head, and not with uncovered legs, if the way of people in that place is not to stand before the great without shoes.

Commentary:

Once again, we tangle with the question of whether all of this grammatically masculine halakha is addressed only to men, primarily to men, or is only assumed by later/any readership to only mean men.  I will note (as I have done before, I'm sure) that in many contexts similar to that of the Mechaber, unmarried women covered their heads in some way as a social norm.  This makes it hard to determine whether he was even considering what was required of women, or whether he assumed that the rules were the same, or if he had some other considerations that I have not yet found for women's heads and prayer.

I would never have questioned the validity of a straw hat, which the Shulhan Arukh here feels a need to state qualifies as a hat- I suppose a straw hat is a very flimsy sort of covering compared to a turban.  Interesting to see it here as a further note as to the way that our social perceptions of dress influence how we shape the boundaries of halakha.  Here's codification of something I would have never questioned- and therefore would never have addressed as question in need of answering.

Head-covering here seems to be a matter of showing respect, especially given that 91:5 makes an explicit analogy between the way you dress for prayer and the way you would dress to be in the company of an important person.  This one does reflect an awareness of differences of cultural norms, mostly around how one clothes one's legs, that suggests that the earlier sections about head covering are less socially-defined than permanently set as a symbol of respect or awe.

Devotional Head Covering Source, Shulhan Arukh, Orekh Chayim 2:6

Text:

שולחן ערוך אורח חיים הלכות הנהגת אדם בבקר סימן ב סעיף ו 

אסור לילך  בקומה זקופה,  ולא ילך  ד' אמות בגילוי הראש (מפני כבוד השכינה),  ויבדוק נקביו. הגה: ויכסה כל גופו, ולא ילך יחף . וירגיל עצמו לפנות בוקר וערב, שהוא זריזות  ונקיות (הגהות מיימוני פרק ה' מהלכות דעות. 

Translation:

Shulhan Arukh, Orech Hayim, Laws About a Person in the Morning

2:6 It is forbidden to walk with an upright posture (haughtily) and one should not walk four amot [cubits] with an uncovered head (because of respect for the Shechinah) and one should examine one's orifices [to make sure they are clean].  Gloss: One should cover one's whole body, and not go barefoot.  And one should accustom oneself to turn aside [to use the bathroom] morning and evening, for this is scrupulous and clean.

Commentary:

This halakha comes in the context of rules about a person getting dressed in the morning.  In this context, covering one's head right away, before walking any significant distance (4 amot, about a man's height) is both part of getting dressed and is described explicitly as done to give respect to the Shechinah- G-d's presence.  Thus, it is a devotional practice, related to our awareness of G-d's presence in the world. However, it is outward, designed to give respect in itself, rather than as a reminder for the person.

It is interesting that head covering is described as religious or devotional in meaning, yet it is set in the context of both modesty and politeness to other people: covering the whole body with clothing, wearing shoes, and keeping one's orifices clean.  It suggests to me that the attempt that I, and others, are always making to distinguish between modesty and respect for G-d and polite self-presentation may be not entirely possible.  They seem to be quite wrapped up in each other.  It's something I'm going to want to think more about.

It is surprising that this is given as straight halakha, while the popular conception of things is that head covering is custom, rather than law.  Here, however, it is treated as law, at least in some sense.  Oddly, encouraging regular toileting habits is treated in the same area, which is an odd addition- except that the following section of Shulhan Arukh is laws pertaining to using the bathroom, which makes this comment rather a nice literary transition.

Also interesting is the lack of gendering here.  My presumption is that this is talking to men, but it never says it explicitly here.  I'll have to talk a look at the earlier part of the section to see if there is any clarification, or if it operates on presumption.

Devotional Head Covering Source, Masechet Sofrim, Chapter 14, Halakha 12

Translation mostly courtesy of Sarah Mulhern, rabbinical student and friend.

(For more on Masechet Sofrim, one of the "smaller tractates", additions to the Talmud- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soferim_(Talmud)).

Text:

מסכתות קטנות מסכת סופרים פרק יד

פוחח, הנראין כרעיו, או בגדיו פרומים, או מי שראשו מגולה, פורס על שמע, ויש אומרים בכרעיו נראין, או בגדיו פרומים, פורס על שמע, אבל בראשו מגולה אינו רשאי להוציא הזכרה מפיו; ובין כך ובין כך מתרגם, אבל אינו קורא בתורה, ואינו עובר לפני התיבה, ואינו נושא את כפיו. 

Translation:

What is pocheach (a condition in which a person is able to say shema but not to read Torah)? One whose thighs are visible, or his garments are unraveling, or his head is bare,may recite shema. And there are those who say that one whose knees are visible or his garments are unraveling may recite the shema, however one whose head is uncovered is not permitted to mention the name of Gd.  And any of these may translate but they may not read Torah, and they may not lead services [literally: descend before the ark], and they may not give the priestly benediction.

Commentary:

We often don't think about modesty for prayer as a gender-neutral or masculine concern, but in this context, where the assumption is that men are the ones who read Torah, lead services, etc, it is clear that we are talking about minimum standards of male modesty.

In this context, there are three "levels" of modesty- the first, where one may perform any public ritual function, such as leading services and reading Torah.  This requires covered thighs and intact clothing.

In the second level, one may pray privately, but not lead services or be involved in most public ritual.  This category is the explicit topic of this text, and includes such intermediate sorts of body-coverage such as having thighs visible or clothing that is unraveling or presumably has holes.  A second opinion includes even bare knees.

In either of these categories, one may still be a translator for the Torah reading [a practice that most of the Jewish world has abandoned, perhaps with the availability of printed texts, but the Yemenite community still maintains.  The practice is to translate each verse into Aramaic, one at a time, after they are read from the Torah.]  So there are still some public roles that are acceptable while not fully meticulously covered.

In the third, one may not even pray privately, especially according to the second opinion given, that forbids even mentioning G-d with an uncovered head.

This text is relevant to our questions because there is a disagreement as to what category being bare headed falls into.  The first opinion puts it into the second level- pocheach, while the second opinion puts it into the third level, where one may not even pray privately.

This is interesting because this is a description of head covering as part of a concern for public appropriateness or appearing respectable.  And yet the second opinion implies that it is actually about private respect for G-d, and relevant in all situations, even unconnected to how one appears to other people.  The two opinions have different visions of what head covering (for men at least) is about- is it devotional or about public respectability?

Depending on which way we go, we can derive different decisions about the importance of covering now, where it is of less concern for public respectability, and where women as well as men may be interested in covering as a devotional practice.  If it is about public respectability, we may want to be not only lenient but also find that there's less significance to wanting to do so. If it is about the ability to appropriately pray, then we should encourage it for as many Jews as we can, in a wider range of contexts.

Devotional Head Covering Source: Kiddushin 8a

Translation courtesy of Sarah Mulhern, rabbinical student and friend.

Text:

 וכגון דקביל כהן עילויה; כי הא דרב כהנא שקיל סודרא מבי פדיון הבן, אמר ליה: לדידי חזי לי חמש סלעים. אמר רב אשי: לא אמרן אלא כגון רב כהנא, דגברא רבה הוא ומבעי ליה סודרא ארישיה, אבל כולי עלמא לא 

Translation:  

[What is the law in] a case where the priest accepts [an object of insufficient value in return for the redemption of a son] as happened in the case of R. Kahana, who accepted a scarf for a son's redemption, and said to him [the father],‘To me it is worth five selas.’? R. Ashi said: "This is only applicable in the case of a person like R. Kahana, who is a great man and needs a scarf /turban
for his head, but not of people in general."

Comments:

This text refers to head covering only in passing, as part of a social reality.  The focal point of the text is the question of how to handle an oddly done redemption of a firstborn son, which requires the use of a sum of 5 selas- usually this would involve 5 silver coins, contemporarily.  This text raises the question of relative worth- if something is worth more to you (the receiver) than it is normally, could it count?  The answer seems to be "Yes, but no"- in theory, it could, but we don't really want to go there.

However, the example is what makes this text relevant to our question.  The example is used to indicate that the specifics here make the results of this case is not generally transferable- because Rav Kahana is a particularly important person, therefore he needs a turban.  This suggests that turbans at least are a marker of social status, rather than of religiosity or piety.  (I notice that in stories that talk about head covering as piety in the Talmud, the covering is either of non-specific style or is a robe worn over the head, rather than being a turban.)

Turbans (much) later become the usual covering for men in most of the Middle East, but I'm not sure when that happens.  

Devotional Head Covering, Talmud Bavli, Shabbat 118b

Translation courtesy of Sarah Mulhern, a talented friend and rabbinical student at Hebrew College.

Text:

אמר רב נחמן: תיתי לי דקיימית שלש סעודות בשבת. אמר רב יהודה: תיתי לי דקיימית עיון תפלה. אמר רב הונא בריה דרב יהושע: תיתי לי דלא סגינא ארבע אמות בגילוי הראש. אמר רב ששת: תיתי לי דקיימית מצות תפילין. ואמר רב נחמן: תיתי לי דקיימית מצות ציצית 

Translation:

R. Nahman said: "May [reward] come to me for observing three meals on the Sabbath." R. Yehudah said: "May [reward] come to me for observing focus in prayer. R. Huna son of R. Joshua said: May [reward] come to me for never walking four cubits bareheaded. R. Sheshet said: May [reward] come to me for fulfilling the commandment of tefillin. R. Nahman [also] said: May I be rewarded for fulfilling the commandment of tzitzit.

Commentary:

This passage connects statements from various rabbis that indicate that the fulfillment of certain practices deserves reward.  The collection seems united by the phrase "תיתי לי", especially since there is no pttern or unity in the sages' era- they come from several different generations of Amoraim.

 First, this implies that doing so is unusual and/or difficult.  Second, the combination suggests that all have some shared value.  However, some are clear, d'oraita (from the Torah) mitzvot- tzitzit, tefillin. (One wonders that these were seen as deserving of particular praise- it says Something about how little the Jewish people may have changed over time.) Others are pietistic practices/abilities- maintaining focus in prayer, and not going bare-headed.  Yet focus in prayer is really part of the mitzvah of prayer- the best way to fulfill the mitzvah, possibly the only way.  Whereas head-covering is only piety, not a mitzvah at all...

The obvious connection (to me at least) is that these are difficult and/or unusual practices which the rabbis would like to encourage- yet in this context go no further than saying that they will bring eventual reward.   Not exactly a statement of requirement in regards to head-covering, but the way that the statements have been brought together by their common structure begins to give it a weight that it does not have on its own.

Devotional/Men's Head Covering Source: Pesachim 111b

Thanks for the translation in this post go to Sarah Mulhern, rabbinical student and a friend of mine.  Commentary (and any blame) is, of course, mine.

Text:

ההוא בר קשא דמתא דאזיל וקאי גבי זרדתא דהוה סמיך למתא, עלו ביה שיתין שידי ואיסתכן. אתא לההוא מרבנן דלא ידע דזרדתא דשיתין שידי היא, כתב לה קמיע לחדא שידא. שמע דתלו חינגא בגויה, וקא משרו הכי: סודריה דמר כי צורבא מרבנן, בדיקנא ביה במר דלא ידע ברוך אתא 

Translation: 

A certain town-officer went and stood by a bush near a town, whereupon he was set upon by sixty demons and his life was in danger. He then went to a scholar who did not know that the bush was haunted by sixty demons, and so he wrote a one-demon amulet for it. After, he heard how the demons suspended a harp on the tree and [mocked him] singing: ‘The man's turban is like a scholar's, yet we have examined him and found that he does not know "Baruch Atah".’

Comments:

This source is very much aggadah: story, rather than halakha.  Obviously, the story is full of folk beliefs of the time- demons and amulets.  But it tells us something about what wearing a turban indicated socially in the time.  Namely, it was a marker of status, and seemingly, intellectual status.  It wasn't what every man wore- and wearing one in this case was viewed as pretentiousness for the "scholar" in this piece of aggadah.

Obviously, head covering doesn't have any of the same connotations now- although I've heard similar sorts of reactions to the relative "frumkeit" of how people dress.   

Reaction to a Reflection on Head Covering

A charming and thoughtful personal account of one woman's journey with head covering of various sorts.

A couple of highlights, for me:

I was the little girl in the large, floppy hat.

It was called my “davening hat,” and I wore it dutifully every morning during prayer services as a child. Even though I was raised in an Orthodox home, my parents sent me to a Conservative day school starting in kindergarten, and I did quite a few things differently at school than I did at home.

All students, girls included, were required to wear kippotduring our school prayer services. This upset me on several levels. First, I did not want to wear what I recognized so distinctively to be boys’ clothing; gender difference was a particularly sensitive issue when I was at an age when cooties were still relevant. But more than that, I did not like the idea of some obscure (and apparently fickle) religious authority instructing me what I should or should not wear on my head. A healthy spirit of defiance beginning to stir, I went to see the principal, my 5-year-old self sitting across from him at his handsome oak desk, my feet not nearly touching the floor.

Together we came up with an ingenious solution: I could wear a hat instead. But even though we had shaken hands on the idea, my small palm getting lost somewhere in the conciliatory gesture, my flower-emblazoned pink sun hat made me feel silly in the reverent pews of the school sanctuary. The deceptively cheery flower perched front and center did not match the gloomy pout persevering underneath. I felt uncomfortable. The hat made me look different and strange—a blaring sign that a disgruntled kindergartener was flouting communal norms.

This is both a familiar experience for me (without it even involving a separate piece of clothing) and something I both fear and expect for my daughter.  How do I bridge the gap between our family's practice and a world that has smaller and more separate "boxes"?  I grew up often feeling different, and it was hard- but it also made me who I am, in ways that I now think were worth it.  It's an on-going question.  But I appreciated this story.

Ans skipping to the author's adulthood, newly married:

But when I one day chose to wrap a colorful Israeli scarf around my head, similar to the ones my mother always wore, my head covering signaled to the world that I was different. While my teenage-self had blanched at the idea, my adult self wore the look proudly. My scarf was an external sign of oneness with my community.

No head covering is arbitrary—every detail, to the carefully trained eye, is significant.

For me, however, covering my head has evolved from an attempt to appease my community into an effort to belong to my community.

 In other words, a head covering is a symbol of identity- and only feels right if it aligns you, in your own vision, with your perceptions of yourself and who you see as your community.

 

 

Neither Fish Nor Fowl?

I came across this quote in the midst of a piece about mikvah, and it resonated with me in a very uncomfortable way.

"At one salon, a woman asked if my husband was home and when I responded no, she sighed in relief and pulled off her sheitl, wig. Women around the living room followed suit, pulling off sheitls, tichels, scarves, and hats, a collective shedding of our inhibitions. This was a safe space to open up and be in solidarity as women."
-http://www.myjewishlearning.com/blog/the-torch/2014/08/27/jewish-women-deserve-better/

It highlights the ways in which I am both part of the Orthodox community and in which I am specifically not.  I too would not remove my scarf if the host's husband were home- but without knowing in advance and packing a kippah or cap of some sort, I'm not going to take part in that collective intimacy of relaxing from the public face of hair covering- because I don't have a way of covering my head without my tichel on.  The issue is only accentuated since I presume some of this was a discussion of Torah, about which I feel even more strongly about doing with a covered head.

I don't think I've ever actually been in one of these situations.  But the thought of spoiling some sort of connection, or being excluded from it, because I am fulfilling two different Jewish values with my covering, is painful.  Yes, it's a pair of choices that I made- but out of a sincere attempt to follow halakha diligently.  Changing my mind would be a rejection of that.  But it can be something of a lonely place.

Reaction: "My Kippah, Myself"

This article resonates with my own experiences.  It is one woman's description of her experiences wearing a kippah for the last 20 years, starting at age 9.  She shares some of the challenges she has experienced- and the theology and identity that lead her to make, and to continue to make, that decision.  It's worth the read.

I didn't start wearing a kippah as early as Gila Drazen did, nor as consistently- I often swapped over to a folded scarf or a headband.  But when I wore a kippah on the street (or at the grocery store, department store, post office...) I got the same reactions that Drazen did.  They were glorious and they were miserable.  They were, most of all, inescapable.  By the time I went to Israel, it's no wonder that I didn't have the energy for the infamous "Ben O Bat"?" (Are you a boy or a girl?) conversations that many of my friends have had.

Drazen's story reminds me of my own in so many ways.  There is no moment of definition- there's only her moment of recognition that she's known all along- the kippah her parents give her is sparkly, purple and Jewish, of course she was going to wear it all the time.  For me, it was an even earlier moment of "I'm Jewish", therefore- for me, I was 5, and I insisted that my parents send me to Hebrew School.  Her story resonates in its very lack of revolutionary energy.  There is nothing at odds with the Jewish life she already was living in this decision- it barely Was a decision.  It's only later, interfacing with the external world of the broader Jewish community and the non-Jewish world that it becomes a challenge.

I too had a conversation with a man in a black hat about my kippah- except I didn't get to have the conversation.  I was walking with two Jewish men (with kippot and tzitzit) and a non-Jewish woman, a Protestant seminarian, after an interfaith conference.  A man drove by, pulled over, and asked my male colleagues- "why is she wearing that?" I tried to answer- he didn't look at me, or listen to my answer.  "Who said she could wear that?" "Why can't she just bake challah and light candles?" My colleagues tried to answer him- they said what I might have said, only more politely.  Our Protestant company was passed by without comment, although she was wearing jeans, and a low-cut shirt.  But my kippah (over a dress and long-sleeve, high-necked shirt)- now That was confusing, and a threat.

It's a reminder that clothing can be about us as much as it is about our way of shaping how other people see us.  There is a connection between identity and identification, obviously- but the way that the kippah gets grabbed as a signboard can be very trying when one wants to send no message more controversial than Ï am a Jew who is in relationship with God".

In the end, Drazen's message is one I heartily approve of, even as someone who no longer wears a kippah herself- at least when you can see me:

My kippah is not about you any more than the rest of the way I present myself is about you. My kippah is about me, it’s about God. It’s about Judaism and family and tradition. You are not the official arbiter of what Judaism is or is not. I do not require your understanding or your approval; however, respect is appreciated. 

Have you had one of these experiences?   Are you curious about why women wear a kippah, or how they made that choice?  This is an open space for respectful communication about the topic.  Please share stories, questions, and answers.  Anything disrespectful will be removed as soon as I can.

Spiritual Functioning of the Kippah

I was talking to my husband about how he felt about wearing a kippah.  What we came up with was this:

Wearing a kippah is about a baseline.  It isn't so noticeable in itself, but it means that taking it off is a signal to yourself.  Taking it off, or disguising it, means that what you're doing is likely to be questionable.

 Sometimes, questioning it may yield the answer that you're answering to another Jewish value that makes doing something that is halakhically marginal appropriate (for example, going into a non-kosher restaurant to be with your family).






Sometimes, it turns out to be a reminder that actually, this isn't a good choice.

But either way, without the baseline, you don't have the reminder.  It makes an awareness of other people's gaze into a reminder of God's gaze.

What message does your kippah (or devotional head-covering practice) send you? 

 How do you feel about it?  

Head Covering as a Spiritual Practice: My Story

When I started wearing a kippah, it was a spiritual practice.  It made me more aware of my tefillah, it made me more aware of God's presence.  First, I wore a covering only when making brachot, studying, or eating.  The extra action made me more aware of each moment, of each blessing, of the presence of God.

Then I started covering all the time, and it brought a little bit of that awareness to getting dressed in the morning.  Whether I was wearing a kippah or a headband or a scarf, I was aware of having something on my head, and that would help me to remember why I did it.  It brought me more awareness of God, for a while.

It also brought me a lot of obnoxious questions and comments.  I've blogged about that in the past.  "You know that's not for keeping the rain off" about a kippah, and "when did you get married?" when I had a beret on outside, etc.  But the spiritual benefits outweighed the social annoyance, and the obligation to do education at any and all times, including while shopping for new bras.

However, over time, my awareness dimmed.  A kippah, or a scarf, or whatever I wore, just became something that I put on in the morning, just like a shirt, or socks.

And then I got married.  And I had a different awareness of what was on my head.  For a little while I was deeply aware of the double meaning of my new way of covering my head.  It was a thrill, because it reminded me that I was married (and of how wonderful my husband is, etc- I'm pretty sure that I was a quite typical newlywed).  It was also a reminder of the spiritual significance of covering my head, which I'd become sort of numb to.

Now, when I'm aware of anything, it's usually a social marker, what sort of Jew I look like.  And that's not nothing.  It is a part of my spiritual identity.  (Spirituality being generally defined as my connection to something greater than myself, to my community, to meaning, and to myself) But it doesn't help me remember God when I'm seeing a beautiful day outside, or when I'm spending time with the family of a dying patient in the hospital, or when I'm studying Talmud with my husband.  And that's an aspect of spirituality that I want to get from my head-covering practice.

So sometimes I think about that- and more often, I don't.  And I don't like that numbness.  That's Not The Point of this practice, or at least, not the only point.  I like that I look frum, I'm not going to lie about it.  But that's not the aspect of this that is foundational for me.

So I'm thinking about how to help myself remember.

Is covering spiritual for you?  In what way?  What keeps it fresh and meaningful?

Shulhan Arukh on Going Bareheaded

Shulhan Arukh 2:4

ולא ילך ד' אמות בגלוי הראש (מפני כבוד השכינה) ויבדק נקביו... 

Translation:

And one should not go/walk 4 cubits with an uncovered head (because of the honor of the Shechinah [God's presence]), and one should check one's openings [i.e. keep yourself clean].  

This text codifies into what law (or what seems to be law- opinions differ, as we'll see at some point) the story from Kiddushin 31a- both the action (covering the head), the distance (4 amot/cubits), and the reason (respect for God's presence).  It does not reflect the reasoning from Shabbat 156b - there is nothing here about a covered head having any effect on our yetzer hara.  (Well, once could create a connection pretty easily, something about not sinning being how we show appropriate respect to God, but while it works, it's pretty obviously a created connection, just to weave in all the ends.)

I find it fascinating that head-covering is paired with basic hygiene.  It gives the practice this very basic feeling, as if it were something about general basic decency.  It isn't an sense that I've gotten anywhere else, yet, but it sure gives a different sense to things.  It makes me wonder if the honor of the Shechinah might be understood as "don't look like a shlump who can't take care of himself", or "don't be disgusting"- although that might take it a bit too far for me.