The mitsvah of Talmud Torah, studying Torah, is broadly misunderstood in the Jewish community. While it is true that this mitsvah includes the obligation to study as much Torah as one can, that is not its essential definition. The exact definition is important in two ways: First, it helps us re-think the Torah education we strive for ourselves and strive to provide our children. Second, since, like keriat Shema, women were not obligated in this mitsvah, the exact definition becomes crucial to understanding which part of Jewish life the Torah here did not feel was crucial to women’s spiritual existence.

The elements of Rambam's presentation in the Sefer haMitsvot already strongly indicate that study per se is not the focus of this mitsvah. He defines the mitsvah as being to learn Torah and to teach it, from the verse ve-shinantam le-vanekha, you shall teach it to your children; even the source, then, already focuses on teaching rather than study. Rambam includes, here, the Sifrei's contention that the verse does not only obligate men to teach their sons, but also any other students who wish to learn (since Tanakh elsewhere refers to students as sons), again focusing the mitsvah on the issue of teaching. Third, he mentions the Sifrei's alternate reading of the word ve-shinantam as requiring a person to know his Torah well enough that he can answer any question immediately. Aside from the nonliteral character of the Sifrei's comment, it also values knowledge of Torah not for its own sake, but because of how it eases answering questions. Finally, Rambam mentions the source of women's exemption, that the verse refers to teaching one's sons, not one's daughters.

Each of these aspects of the presentation-- and we will mention more in a moment-- point to the mitsvah of Talmud Torah as being concerned with guaranteeing the passage of certain knowledge from one generation of Jews to the next, rather than the simple act of study. While studying Torah has positive value for each person who engages in it, the mitsvah carefully focuses on teaching, as we have seen.

Some further examples: In the Mishneh Torah, Rambam also mentions grandfathers’ obligation to teach their grandchildren. Based on the verse ve-hoda`tam le-vanekha ve-livnei vanekha, you shall tell them to your sons and grandsons, the Talmud asserts a particular obligation for grandfathers to teach their grandchildren. Rambam sees this as a higher obligation than to teach students outside the family, but lesser than teaching one's own sons. To the best of my knowledge, this grandparental obligation is unique in halakhic literature. Considering the focus on teaching we have already seen, it makes most sense to say that the mitsvah is a mitsvah of teaching, of guaranteeing the transmission of certain knowledge, and in that search for continuity, the generations of a family constitute a particular area of focus.

That view is further supported by the Talmud's ruling as to the minimal amount one is required to teach one's son in order to fulfill the mitsvah: the text of Torah. As long as one's son can read and explain any selection from Hamisha Humshei Torah, the Five Books of the Torah, the father has fulfilled his obligation. Particularly in our Talmudo-centric society (imagine if, instead of a siyum on a mesekhta or a section of Mishnah, a Bar-Mitsvah boy simply demonstrated his proficiency at all sections of the Torah!), the notion that the text of Torah would suffice for the father's fulfillment of this mitsvah seems odd. If we recalibrate our senses to realize that the mitsvah is concerned with guaranteeing transmission of basic cultural knowledge, however, we understand the Talmud's ruling.

Knowing that this mitsvah cares most directly about some segment of Jews being sure to know and understand the Five Books, also explains the verse used to articulate grandparents' obligation. Literally, the verse of ve-hoda`tam that we cited before encourages us to remember the event of mattan Torah, of the Giving of the Law at Sinai. The Talmud's transferring that to the study of Torah makes most sense if we recognize that the mitsvah wishes to insure that we maintain, minimally, a connection to the devar Hashem, the word of God, that was vouchsafed to us at that event. In studying the text of Torah, we are guaranteeing that we not forget the underlying event as well.

The Talmud certainly does not wish us to stop at the text of Torah, and it makes sure to include stories that expand the scope of texts we should be studying; but it never strays from recognizing that that is enough to satisfy the basic mitsvah obligation. We might say that the rest of Torah literature that we study-- Talmud, commentaries, codes, etc.-- simply helps us to better understand the original document of Torah, and how to apply it in practice in lives lived in this world.

The perspective of Talmud Torah presented here could alter considerably our consideration of why women are exempt. The act of study is not at issue, nor the need to develop enough knowledge to be able to observe one's religious obligations. What women have been exempted from is the obligation to be guardians of cultural knowledge, to insure that the next generation (and the next, ad infinitum) maintains minimal levels of Torah knowledge. Certainly we wonder why the Torah chose to free women of that obligation (although we can't wonder it concisely enough to fit into this forum), but the re-framing of the question itself points us in useful directions, both in thinking about how to educate men, and in terms of considering women's place in the religion. Shabbat Shalom.