Miriam Camerini is in the midst of a course that will earn her a slot in Jewish history.

When she graduates in two years, she aims to be the first female Orthodox rabbi in Italy.

She is currenty enrolled at Har-El, a pioneering yeshivah in Jerusalem for men and women founded by Rabbi Herzl Hefter (who has previously spoken at Limmud UK). It ordained its first women rabbis four years ago.

And although she has the rabbinate in her blood – her father’s father was a rabbi in Italy – it took her some time before she embarked on the road to Har-el.

She was born in Jerusalem on Purim 1983 to Italian parents, who later moved back to Milan.

Although she attended the Jewish school, her knowledge was based more on practical observance than a desire to know the sources in depth. Girls of her generation were not taught Talmud then (and are still not at her school).

It was only after graduating from university in theatre and linguistics that she sought more in-depth learning and returned to Jerusalem to spend four years at the co-educational Pardes Institute.

Back in Italy, she founded a theatre company specialising in Jewish-themed productions and concerts, although she has also directed some opera including The Magic Flute.

But it was a couple of years ago that a series of incidents led her to want to become a rabbi.

She had started a batmitzvah class which had grown from two to 11 girls. “I wanted to teach them something they don’t teach at Jewish school – how to learn Gemara,” she told Limmud.

Then, a friend sought her guidance. “She wanted to give a dvar Torah because her son was reading the haftarah but she had no idea how to prepare for it”.

Before she could reach the required level to start the rabbinic course, she was told she needed to brush up her Talmud – which meant her finding a chavruta, a study partner, who was more advanced than her. In Milan that was not so easy. “The people who knew more than me were more frum and wouldn’t learn one to one with a woman.”

 But she was able to persuade the city’s chief rabbi, whom she had known from schooldays, to learn with her – he discreetly avoided asking her to what end.

Now she travels back and forth between Italy and Israel, combining her studies with her theatrical work. It is not a choice without cost: one community in Italy turned down a performance from her company because, as she later learned, the local rabbi objected to her rabbinical training.

She took the plunge because “I see it as a way to bring about something that will come anyway”, she explained. “Now it will come earlier.” In a decade or so, women rabbis will be commonplace she believes,  and “there won’t even be a session on it [at Limmud], it will be normal”.

For her, the primary role of a rabbi is as an educator. “I don’t imagine leading a community or being a pulpit rabbi. I’d like to continue my work in interfaith dialogue, in writing and theatre.”

It may take a little while for Italy to get used to a woman rabbis, where a rabbi is seen “as a Jewish priest” and priests are male in the predominantly Catholic country.

The Orthodox establishment feels fearful of the prospect because they see the recognition of women rabbis as a "Trojan horse" for Reform.

But from her Limmud audience came only encouragement. “I think you are enormously courageous,” one man told her. “You will never be accepted by them but don’t stop that you going ahead. The Jewish community will be richer and better for it.”