Rabbi Miriam Lorie gave one of the most popular presentations at Limmud. The JC was there
January 7, 2026 15:16
When Rabbi Miriam Lorie was about to conduct her first wedding, a rabbinical colleague gave her a humorous warning. “They told me: ‘You need to be an octopus. You need to be able to hold a microphone, the ketubah and the wine.’”
Yet, despite this juggling challenge, Rabbi Lorie, one of just six female Orthodox rabbis from the UK, said overseeing a chupah has been a highlight of her first year since her ordination.
Speaking to a packed-out room at Limmud festival – the popularity of her talk was even more notable as it was scheduled during dinner – she said the run-up to the couple’s big day had not been without far more fundamental challenges – namely becoming a registered Orthodox marriage secretary.
“This wasn’t entirely straightforward. To be a marriage secretary, you need to be registered by a Jewish umbrella body.”
She firstly approached the Board of Deputies, who told her that they only registered Orthodox marriage secretaries approved by the Chief Rabbi – but that they were hoping this would be changed in the future.
“They said, don’t worry. You can go to West London Synagogue to register.”
But when she approached West London Synagogue, “they said: ‘Sorry, we don’t register Orthodox rabbis.’ It was like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.’”
In the end, it was Rabbi David Mitchell, co-senior rabbi at West London Synagogue, who “made it happen”, said Rabbi Lorie, adding: “Many rabbis from Progressive denominations have been my allies. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for them.”
In June 2024, after four years of study, Rabbi Lorie, 39, graduated from New York’s pioneering Yeshivat Maharat, becoming the first British Orthodox female rabbi to lead a congregation. The first female Orthodox rabbi from the UK was Rabbi Dina Brawer, who went on to found the Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance UK (JOFA UK).
Following her graduation, Lorie became the rabbi of Kehillat Nashira, a partnership minyan in Borehamwood, Hertfordshire, where she had previously been appointed rabbi-in-training.
In partnership minyans, women’s participation is maximised, while keeping within the boundaries of Orthodox Jewish law, but neither these congregations nor Orthodox female rabbis are recognised by Orthodox synagogal organisations in the UK.
In Rabbi Lorie’s congregation, girls in their batmitzvah year are afforded the same experience as their male counterparts. They learn how to leyn their parashah (Torah portion) and haftarah. In the Batmitzvah Café Rabbi Lorie runs, groups of girls learn about women in Tanach and how Jewish texts speak to the big issues in a tween’s life – body image and family dynamics. “I am keen to get Jewish skills into the course and empower the girls to feel confident getting around a prayer book. I want them to be able to say kiddush and lead havdalah.”
Rabbi Lorie, who grew up in a United Synagogue congregation, learnt to daven and leyn in her twenties and thirties. When she first led a prayer service, she said that she “physically shook”.
It is not just the younger generation of Jewish women who have been benefiting from her female-friendly approach. During her talk, she showed a delightful slide of a congregant who learnt to leyn in her early seventies, inspired by her own granddaughter’s batmitzvah. She read maftir and haftarah and invited the community to kiddush.
“It was such a joyful morning. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Her daughters blessed her, and we were all crying.” Older women frequently share their surprise and delight with Lorie at coming close to a Sefer Torah for the first time in a decades-long life.
But while she is trying to level the Jewish playing field for girls and women, as she runs her community within the confines of halachah, she is limited in the changes she is able to make. While women in a partnership minyan model can lead approximately half the service, some parts including the Kedushah can only be led by men; only men are included in the minyan and the first two call-ups to the Torah, reserved for a Cohen and a Levi (if they are in the room), are only given to men.
Rabbi Miriam Lorie (photo credit: Benjamin Leon)[Missing Credit]
“We’ve had situations where there have been nine men and me, which can make us think about who is not in the room, instead of focusing on who is in the room. At times like these, it would be easier to recognise women in a minyan, but, at the same time, it’s not where the shul is at – essentially, we would be saying that we’re non-Orthodox.”
Another issue which has been explored has been the mechitzah, which can be an affront to some women – and even to some men.
“My shul has been talking about a trihitzah – for men, women and a mixed section open to those who need it, including non-binary people. If inclusivity is our main thing, how can we be so binary?”
Asked by an audience member her thoughts on wearing a tallit, Rabbi Lorie says: “Maybe one day”, recalling: “The first time I saw women wearing a tallit, I had a gut ‘ugh’ reaction. Then, when I got home, I thought that it was actually a beautiful thing. But when I consider the optics, people would walk into our synagogue and say it’s not Orthodox. But at the same time, you could say I haven’t taken on the mitzvah.” With little by way of a blueprint for the role, there is often not a straightforward answer to questions like this one.
Having overseen a number of batmitzvahs and a wedding, about a month ago Rabbi Lorie carried out her first funeral. Worried about how she would fare emotionally, Rabbi Lorie said: “I was really lucky. She was a 97-year-old woman who had lived a good life.”
Her synagogue is a member of the Jewish Joint Burial Society, a cross-denominational umbrella organisation, and she conducts funerals at their cemetery in Cheshunt.
As a female rabbi, she is, thus far, unable to oversee an Orthodox Jewish divorce. “Thank God I haven’t been asked to do one. But I would say: ‘No’ as I wouldn’t want anyone’s divorce to be in question.”
In the blurb for her talk, she said being an Orthodox rabbi was “a job for a nice Jewish girl”. Perhaps it is, but it is certainly not one for the faint-hearted.
The congregation is soon to move into its own building, which ‘will have inclusivity at its heart’, and it has been gifted a Sefer Torah
As an anomaly in both the Orthodox and the rabbinical world, there are no obvious vacancies which need filling or structured networks of support.
“It’s a start-up job. It’s hustling; it’s hard work. We’ve had to build everything from the ground up.”
She jests that “when I retire and move to Italy, please God it won’t be like that for girls who want to be Orthodox rabbis in the future”.
In the meantime, Rabbi Lorie’s grit and determination has paid off. The congregation is soon to move into its own building, which “will have inclusivity at its heart” and it has been gifted a Sefer Torah.
Until then, they have been using a Torah which was housed at a synagogue affiliated to the United Synagogue, which, says Rabbi Lorie, has been giving her “a lot of quiet collegiate support” since she was ordained.
As a one-woman show, one day Rabbi Lorie would love to lead a congregation alongside a male rabbi, she says.
Until then, she will continue to embrace her new role, showing other Orthodox women and girls what is possible. “You can’t be what you can’t see. Until Rabbi Dina Brawer became a rabbi I didn’t know I could do it. My journey has been gradual, and I’ve done it with both fear and joy.”
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