Northern French sources do not discuss women’s presence in the synagogue with relation to menstruation, despite the initial appearance of this theme in texts attributed to Rashi. For example, thirteenth-century compendia that discuss the laws of menstruation, such as Semag (Sefer Mitzvot Gadol) by Moses of Coucy and Semak (Sefer Mitzvot Katan) by Isaac of Corbeil (d. 1280), mention no such restrictions.74
Thus, evidence for these restrictions is predominantly German in origin. These sources indicate that the practice of menstruants refraining from synagogue attendance continued well into the early modern period among Ashkenazic Jews. For example, in Sefer Terumat haDeshen, Israel Isserlein (1390–1460) discussed this custom as it was practiced in his lifetime:
With regard to women who are impure, it is true that I have allowed them on the High Holidays and other days when many of them gather at the synagogue to hear the prayers and the [Torah] readings. And I have based my position on Rashi, who allowed women in [his writings on] the Laws of Niddah on account of spiritual pleasure (nahat ruah),75 since [the prevailing custom] saddened their spirits and led to heartbreak76 while the rest of the community was gathering and they were left standing outside…. Look in the Laws of Niddah written by my esteemed uncle, Aaron,77 and you will see that he copied from Sefer Or Zaru’a in the name of the Ge’onim, where it seems to be absolutely forbidden [for menstruating women to enter the synagogue], but he also noted that in Sefer Or Zaru’a78 certain women refrain [from entering the synagogue] and act admirably. From this [opinion] one can understand that this [practice is prompted by] enthusiasm (zerizut) and piety alone [and is therefore not required].79
Isserlein’s discussion underlines not only the popularity of this custom but also suggests that women may have stood outside rather than enter the synagogue, a possibility that is also raised by the pair of verbs used by the compiler in Sefer Likutei haPardes.80 Isserlein highlights the individual and communal significance of synagogue attendance by noting the sorrow caused to women who were excluded from synagogue rituals, especially on holidays. Later sources, such as the commentary on the Shulhan Arukh by Remah (Moses Isserles, 1525–1572), include a summary of Isserlein’s opinion but then counter his prohibition by explicitly charging women to enter the synagogue:
Some have written that during the days of her discharge a menstruant may not enter a synagogue, pray, mention God’s name or touch a Hebrew book, but others say that she is permitted [to perform] all these [acts], and this [latter] view is correct. However, the practice in these countries [meaning Ashkenazic lands] follows the first opinion, although during white days their custom is to allow [her to perform all these acts]. Even where the stringent practice is upheld, on the Days of Awe and other such occasions when many gather in synagogue, [menstruating women] are permitted to enter the synagogue like other women on account of their great sadness if everyone gathers [in synagogue] but they remain outside.81
These restrictions that pertain to menstrual impurity and the synagogue belong to a broader class of practices relating to menstruation that were enforced during the High Middle Ages. Northern French and German sources instruct men to curtail physical contact with their wives throughout both phases of niddah. Not only was direct touch restricted, but handling common objects was also regulated (e.g., couples were not to eat from the same bowls or to pass objects directly to one another).82 In contrast to synagogue attendance, these domestic constraints were applied from the onset of bleeding until the woman had immersed. Indeed, some thirteenth- and fourteenth-century sources indicate that the rabbis were aware that they were demanding a degree of strictness that differed from previous generations.83 Moreover, regulations regarding purity after childbirth also became much more rigorous during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, requiring couples to extend their period of abstinence from sexual activity from one week to at least six weeks.84 As such, restricting menstruants from synagogue participation is consistent with stricter observances of that era. Not until the sixteenth century—when rabbinic authorities recognized that blocking menstruant women from synagogue attendance caused extreme distress and isolation—was this custom suspended.85
If we review the customs regarding the physical presence of ritually impure women in the synagogue in medieval Ashkenaz, we see that during the late eleventh and twelfth centuries some highly observant women stopped entering the synagogue while they were menstruating as an expression of reverence and piety. In Germany (at least), this behavior became increasingly normative for all women by the late thirteenth or early fourteenth centuries. Interestingly, this practice was only applied during the first phase of menstruation, whereas women returned to the synagogue when their “white days” had begun, without waiting until immersion.86
Although the customs associated with menstruants have parallels with respect to other causes of female impurity, such as immediate post-partum status, no evidence of ritually impure men remaining outside the synagogue has been recorded—neither at their own initiative nor by rabbinic instruction—despite the endorsement of such restrictions by Ra’aviah, Judah the Pious, and other authorities. This disparity comes without surprise since, as Sharon Koren has noted, it follows the asymmetrical biblical attitudes that show greater leniency toward male impurity than its female parallels. Furthermore, this approach to male impurity is congruent with communal reliance on a quorum of men to hold prayer services; had men been instructed to avoid synagogue during their states of impurity, the established rhythm of public prayer might have been endangered!
Consequently, even the most pious men went to synagogue regularly, without taking their purity status into account; while these individuals were more meticulous about washing after nocturnal emissions, under no circumstances were they dissuaded (much less prohibited) from entering the synagogue. Rather, men were encouraged to temper the conscious and unconscious sexual thoughts that caused their impurity. Furthermore, impurity was never raised as a factor that might interfere with men’s participation in prayers services or their recitation of blessings. This, of course, differs significantly from the religious imperatives linked to menstruation, the manifestation of an involuntary bodily function.
As we have seen, among women, the inception of “white days” (and in some cases, immersion) marked their return to regular synagogue attendance, and ritual immersion punctuated their cycle of sexual relations. Even though men’s immersion did not typically determine their cycles of religious activity in the same way, male immersion emerged as a custom on the eve of the Day of Atonement. Medieval sources identify this as a practice that was intended to substitute for all immersions that should technically have been performed during the remainder of the year in addition to its more obvious assurance of male purity on the holiest of days.87 Let us now turn to this annual custom to explore how it might shed light on rituals that were performed by women throughout the year.
Men, Women, and Angels
The idea that the Day of Atonement requires a heightened level of purity is not a medieval innovation. In the Bible, it is already described as a day of utmost significance, when purity was crucial. This principle was operative when the Temple stood and following its destruction. The Day of Atonement’s unique status is evident from rabbinic texts that describe priestly rites in the Temple and in medieval discussions of Yom Kippur, which are especially relevant to our study given their attention to the fear of a nocturnal emission on this holy day. Such an occurrence was understood as a signal that the affected man must immediately repent lest he die in the coming year.88 In many ways, this concern represented a commitment to piety for the entire community since all men were elevated to the status of the high priest in the Temple on Yom Kippur. As such, efforts to achieve a state of purity were intrinsic to preparing for the holiest day in the Jewish calendar.89
Rabbinic and medieval sources provide various explanations of the need for purity and thus for immersion prior to Yom Kippur.90 The midrashic image of all Israel—men, women, and children—poised like angels before God on Yom Kippur had enduring popularity: originating in Midrash Leviticus Rabbah,