BLIND PERSON WITH DOG AT SERVICES

A graduate student from out of the city came to the local university. She asked for complimentary tickets for the High Holidays. When assured that she would be given them, she added that she is blind and cannot come without her seeing-eye dog. May she be admitted with the dog to the Holiday services?

THERE is a great deal of discussion and decision in the legal literature with regard to the duties and the exemptions of the blind. Therefore it would not be amiss at the outset to consider whether this blind person needs to come to the public services at all; whether she could not stay at home, for example, and read the services with a greater sense of security and therefore perhaps with greater concentration and devotion.

The laws about the blind are found in many parts of the Talmudic literature. For example, in the Talmud, in b. Megilla 24a, there is a discussion as to which parts of the service the blind may conduct. Rabbi Judah says that if it is a blind person who has never seen light (i.e., blind from birth) he cannot truthfully bless God as the Creator of Light, and therefore cannot officiate. Also a blind Cohen cannot bless the people. Leviticus 21:17 forbids any Cohen with any physical blemish to officiate as priest. There is also considerable discussion whether a blind person may be called up to the Torah. Yet it is evident that as the law developed, more and more participation is allowed to the blind. As for being called up to the Torah, it is now virtually a universally accepted custom to call them. All the basic arguments on this part of the question are summed up by Benjamin Slonick, pupil of Isserles, in his Massas Binyomin, 62. He ends with the conclusion that they should be called up to the Torah. (See also the various specific cases cited in this regard by Isaac Lamperonti in Pachad Yitzchok, s.v., “Suma. “) The most extreme opinion forbidding the blind to participate was by Rabbi Judah mentioned above. In b. Baba Kamma, 87a, he makes a general prohibition or exemption when he says that “the blind are free from the observance of any of the commandments.” This general exemption is discussed by Hezekiah Silva 17th century) in his commentary to the Shulchan Aruch, P’ri Chadash, to Orah Hayyim, 473 (near the end of the section) in which he virtually cancels the exemption enunciated by Rabbi Judah.

The most touching commentary on Rabbi Judah’s blanket exemption occurs on the very page of the Talmud on which it is stated. Rabbi Joseph, who himself was blind, said that he rejoiced at that statement because, he said, “Although I was not commanded, nevertheless I have obeyed God’s commandments.” The spirit of this discussion and the mood of the law applies to this situation before us. This blind student could very easily say, “It will be much less trouble for me to pray at home.” Nevertheless, she desires to pray with the congregation and in this, of course, she deserves our respect and every assistance.

But the question arises whether we can admit a dog into the service. Considering the general contempt which the biblical literature has for dogs (which is so unlike the present-day affection for them) one would think that to bring a dog into the house of God would contravene at least the mood of traditional literature. Yet, actually, this is not the case. The very question (or close to it) was asked of the well-known head of a Yeshiva in New York, Moses Feinstein. In his four-volume book of responsa, Igros Moshe, I, 45, he discusses the following case: A pious Jew who is blind and wants to worship with the congregation every day, asks permission to come to the synagogue with his seeing-eye dog. Feinstein gives permission for the blind man to come into the synagogue with the dog. His reasoning, based of course on the Talmud, is of some interest. It begins with the statement in the Palestinian Talmud, Megilla III, 3, in which it is said: “If a scholar comes with his donkey (for a night’s lodging) admit him, and his animal, and his possessions into the synagogue.” The passage refers to the discussion as to the propriety of using the synagogue as a lodging-place, and is further based upon the thought that scholars have a special right to the use of the synagogue. Now, argues Rabbi Feinstein, to come to the synagogue to worship is much more important than to come to lodge in the building, and a dog is no worse than a donkey, while to deprive this pious man who is blind of hearing Kaddish and Kedusha (which can only be recited with a minyan) would certainly be wrong. Therefore he decides that a blind man can come; but that he should sit by the door with his dog so as not to disturb the congregation. Of course, were this question asked of him (as it is asked of us) with regard to a woman, it is doubtful whether he would have given any permission, since a woman is not in duty bound to pray with the congregation at regular prayer. But to us, to whom the status of women is equal to that of men in all matters of worship, we must conclude that she certainly should in general be given permission to come.

However, what disturbed Rabbi Feinstein even in the case of the pious man, was that the dog may disturb the congregation. This certainly concerns us too. While it is true that these dogs are said to be so well-trained that they do not bark, nevertheless, a great hall filled with people on the High Holidays can easily be unnaturally exciting for the dog, and a disturbance from him would disturb a great congregation.

Therefore it would be better if she be asked not to bring the dog but that a member of the congregation be assigned to bring her to services, to sit by her during the services, and to bring her home after the services. The spirit of the statement of Rabbi Joseph quoted above, the nobility of the desire to worship God in public when she could easily find reasons not to do so, deserves every sympathetic help; and it should be a special privilege, a mitzvah, for a member of the congregation to take complete charge of her on that occasion. (See also Breisch; Chelkas Yaàcov III, 87.)