Lesbianism and Halakha

By: Ziva Ofek

 well, to distinguish myself there”

(Chullin 7a)

Part I: Introduction

Approximately three years ago, my friend Or, who at the time managed the forum for religious lesbian women, told me that she wished to initiate one or more articles addressing the conflict inherent in being both lesbian and religious. More broadly, she was collecting articles on the subject. I expressed my view that it was inconceivable for a forum of religious women to exist without any halakhic engagement with the issue. She took up the challenge.

I began studying the subject. At that time—and in truth, still today—there were no detailed halakhic articles or responsa that addressed the issue with seriousness. Despite my limited understanding and narrow Torah knowledge, I felt that I was engaging in an almost pioneering endeavor within the study of halakha and the world of the beit midrash.

Over the years that followed, my learning deepened through debates, disagreements, and polemics in various forums. I was exposed to many additional sources. I came to realize that what I had written earlier was sometimes misunderstood—at times deliberately, and at times because I had failed to explain myself adequately. Over the years, my own positions also became more radical. I no longer content myself merely with seeking halakhic sources that might permit my way of life so that I would not be exiled from the Torah world in which I was raised and which I seek to inhabit. Today, I seek as well to find meaning and value for my own life and for the life of my family within the world of Torah.

And yet, then as now, I have not come—God forbid—to teach, instruct, or issue halakhic rulings for Israel, nor to uproot halakha from Israel. All I seek is to present a collection of halakhic sources and possible interpretive paths which, God willing, if accepted in one form or another by the great sages of Israel and those faithful to the tradition, may open a door and pave a path for my finding a place within the community of Israel, and even for finding Jewish meaning in my life and in the family I have established.

At this opportunity I wish to thank Yael Orian for her initiatives and comments, both regarding the first version of this article and regarding its present version, which remains an initial draft—a preliminary text for Torah scholars far greater than I to come and engage with the subject. I also wish to thank A.B. for her edits, revisions, comments, sources to which she directed me, and the many debates that contributed greatly to clarifying my ideas, presenting them honestly, and also to revising them. May the day come when all of these women are blessed, named openly and with pride, for engaging in Torah study for its own sake.

Part II: Halakhic Approaches to Lesbianism

Lesbianism in the Talmud, or: Why It Is Permitted to Be a Lesbian

As is well known, the Written Torah contains no explicit prohibition against lesbianism. An analysis of the holiness passages in Leviticus shows that this absence is not accidental (see, for example, Sotah 26b, discussed below regarding “mere licentiousness” and the halakhic conception of what constitutes “sexual relations.” Such a conception is fundamentally irrelevant to sexual acts between women). Moreover, the biblical language reflects that a woman is not conceived as the primary subject of forbidden sexual relations—even when punished for them—with the exception of bestiality. However, we are not Karaites, nor do we rely solely on the plain meaning of Scripture; therefore, I will turn directly to the Talmud.

It must be emphasized that the Talmud itself does not prohibit lesbian sexual activity. Thus, the Gemara states in Yevamot 76a (with a parallel in Shabbat 65a):

Rava said: The halakha follows neither the son nor the father.The son—this refers to what we previously stated.The father—this refers to the statement of Rav Huna: “Women who engage in sexual acts with one another are disqualified from marrying a priest.”And even according to Rabbi Elazar, who holds that an unmarried man who has relations with an unmarried woman not for the sake of marriage renders her a harlot—this applies only to a man; but for a woman, it is mere licentiousness.

In other words, according to Rav Huna, women who engage in lesbian sexual acts (the Talmudic term mesollelot) are disqualified from marrying a priest (the commentators dispute whether this refers to any priest or only the High Priest). This does not establish a prohibition of the act itself—just as divorcees and widows are also disqualified from marrying priests. Moreover, this position is rejected in practice in favor of Rava’s ruling, which determines that such women are not disqualified, since the act constitutes no prohibition but merely “licentiousness.”

In the parallel passage in Shabbat (65a), Rav Huna’s statement appears in connection with Rabbi Shmuel’s practice of not allowing his daughters to sleep together. However, the Gemara rejects the notion that the concern was lesbian sexual activity between sisters.

Indeed, according to the plain meaning of the Gemara, the Rif rules (Yevamot 24b):

Rav Huna said that women who engage in sexual acts with one another are disqualified from marrying a priest—but this is not the halakha. Even according to Rabbi Elazar, who holds that an unmarried man who has relations with an unmarried woman not for the sake of marriage renders her a harlot, this applies only to a man; for a woman, it is mere licentiousness. All the more so, the halakha does not follow Rabbi Elazar.

This also appears to be the position of the Rosh (Yevamot 8b), who cites the Gemara verbatim. The responsa Avnei Nezer (Even HaEzer §139) explicitly states that there is no prohibition: sexual relations between women do not constitute forbidden intercourse, and women who engage in such acts are guilty only of licentiousness.

“Mere Licentiousness”

Even if the Gemara does not prohibit lesbian sexual activity, it labels it with the unflattering term pritzuta be-alma—mere licentiousness. From the context, this refers to behavior that is not halakhically prohibited, yet nevertheless expresses a lack of modesty—the conceptual opposite of tzniut. Often, as here, the context is sexual, though not always. This concept is complex and warrants separate discussion, raising significant halakhic and meta-halakhic questions.

Without exhausting the meaning of the term, since it is the relevant category applied by the Gemara to lesbian sexual activity (again, activity—not identity), it is worth examining parallel uses of the concept in the Talmud to derive preliminary guidance for its ethical and practical implications.

“Mere Licentiousness” (continued)

The designation pritzuta be-alma—“mere licentiousness”—appears in several Talmudic contexts. It does not denote a formal prohibition, but rather behavior that deviates from expected norms of modesty. Importantly, the term does not carry with it concrete halakhic sanctions, nor does it generate legal consequences comparable to those associated with forbidden sexual relations (arayot).

For example, in Sotah 26b, the Gemara discusses women who behave immodestly and concludes that their actions do not fall under the category of forbidden sexual relations, but rather under a general rubric of licentious behavior. Similarly, in Gittin 90a, certain immodest behaviors are criticized sharply, yet they are not framed as halakhic transgressions that invalidate marital status or require punitive measures.

From these parallels, it becomes clear that pritzuta functions primarily as a moral–cultural category, not a legal one. It expresses rabbinic discomfort with behavior perceived as undermining social or gender norms, but it does not establish an actionable prohibition. This distinction is critical: halakhic discourse recognizes many behaviors as undesirable or troubling without outlawing them.

Accordingly, labeling lesbian sexual activity as pritzuta be-alma situates it within this broader framework. The Gemara does not deny the existence of intimacy or desire between women; rather, it classifies such behavior as falling outside the recognized structures of halakhic sexuality—structures that are fundamentally defined around male–female intercourse and procreation.

Rambam and the Codification of the Issue

Maimonides (Rambam) addresses the issue explicitly in Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Issurei Bi’ah 21:8:

Women who engage in sexual acts with one another are forbidden, and this is from the practices of Egypt, regarding which we were warned: “You shall not follow the practices of the land of Egypt.”However, they are not lashed, since there is no explicit prohibition, and they do not become forbidden to marry a priest, since they are not considered harlots.

This passage has generated extensive discussion. Rambam introduces a prohibition, yet simultaneously emphasizes that it carries no lashes and does not create the halakhic status of zonah. Many commentators note that Rambam’s language is unusual: he frames the act as “forbidden,” yet anchors it in a general biblical warning against foreign practices, not in a specific sexual prohibition.

The Ra’avad famously objects, arguing that Rambam’s formulation is unwarranted, since the Gemara itself does not prohibit the act. Other commentators attempt to soften Rambam’s position, interpreting his words as a rabbinic prohibition or as an ethical injunction rather than a full-fledged halakhic issur.

Crucially, even according to Rambam, lesbian sexual activity does not fall under the category of arayot, does not invalidate a woman’s marital eligibility, and does not trigger formal punishment. The severity of the language does not translate into severe legal consequences.

Coercion, Desire, and Human Reality

Another important halakhic axis relevant here is the concept of ones—coercion or lack of choice. While classical halakhic discourse often applies ones to external coercion, later authorities broaden the discussion to include internal constraints, psychological compulsion, and circumstances in which an individual’s capacity for choice is meaningfully limited.

For a woman whose emotional, romantic, and sexual orientation is exclusively directed toward other women, the demand to live a heterosexual life may not constitute a genuine choice at all. The halakhic system has long recognized that Torah was not given to angels, and that human reality—including desire, emotional capacity, and psychological wellbeing—must be taken seriously.

This consideration does not, in itself, generate permission. However, it profoundly shapes how halakhic norms are applied, weighed, and interpreted. At the very least, it undermines simplistic claims that such women are merely pursuing indulgence or rebellion.

“It Is Not Good for a Person to Be Alone”

Beyond prohibition and permission lies a broader Torah value: lo tov heyot ha’adam levado—it is not good for a person to be alone. The Torah affirms partnership, intimacy, and companionship as fundamental human needs. Hazal further emphasize derecheha darchei noam—the ways of Torah are ways of pleasantness—and derakheha shalom—paths of peace.

For women who cannot form meaningful romantic bonds with men, enforced solitude is not a neutral option. It entails loneliness, emotional deprivation, and often profound suffering. The question, then, is not merely whether lesbian relationships fit neatly into existing halakhic categories, but whether a Torah life that mandates lifelong isolation can truly reflect Torah values.

Some authorities invoke the principle of la-shevet yetzara—the world was created to be inhabited—not only in the technical sense of procreation, but in the broader sense of building human lives, families, and communities.

Family, Covenant, and Meaning

I do not seek merely to survive within halakha, nor to locate technical loopholes that will allow me to remain nominally observant. Rather, I seek to build a life of Torah that is meaningful, ethical, and communal—a life that includes partnership, responsibility, love, and commitment.

The halakhic sources surveyed here do not provide simple answers. They do, however, demonstrate that lesbian relationships are not situated in the heartland of halakhic prohibition. They occupy a marginal, ambiguous space—one that has historically been under-theorized, under-discussed, and often dismissed.

It is precisely in such spaces that serious Torah study is required.

Conclusion

I return, then, to the words with which I began: “My forebears left room for me as well, to distinguish myself there.” I do not claim authority, nor do I presume to decide halakha. I seek only to open a conversation grounded in sources, honesty, and fidelity to Torah.

If the Torah is truly a Torah of life, it must have something to say to my life as well.

May those greater than I take up this task, clarify these paths, and illuminate a way in which women like me can stand before God not as exiles, but as daughters of the covenant.

Ziva Ofek