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More About Rashbam on Genesis Chapter 1 and Further Comments about ArtScroll

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More About Rashbam on Genesis Chapter 1 and Further Comments about ArtScroll
By Marc B. Shapiro
I had thought that I was done with ArtScroll’s censorship of Rashbam to Genesis chapter 1, but a number of people wanted some explanation about the manuscript of Rashbam’s commentary. This will also give me the opportunity to add some more comments about this distressing episode.[1]

In my prior post on the topic, available here, I referred to Rabbenu Tam’s strong words against those who "corrected" the talmudic text based on their understanding. ArtScroll is guilty of violating Rabbenu Tam’s “command”, as he would certainly also apply his words to later generations tampering with the writings of rishonim. I think everyone can understand that if people were simply allowed to emend or delete texts based on their own understanding, not a single talmudic tractate or medieval work would emerge unscathed. As such, the only honest thing for an editor to do is to point out in a note how he feels the text should read, or if he thinks that a passage should be deleted. Unfortunately, ArtScroll did not choose this to follow this honest, and common sense, approach.

It is not just Rabbenu Tam who dealt with this matter. Nahmanides, in commentary to Bava Batra 134a, blasts those “sinners” those who emend texts based on their own understanding.

וזו עבירה גמורה ולייטי עלה רבנן כל מאן דמגיה ספרים מדעתא דנפשיה

R. Abraham ben David (Rabad) also leaves no doubt as to his position, stating that one who deletes a text based on his understanding, “his hand should be cut off, since one who deletes [sections of] books is like those who burn the Torah.”[2]

ויד המוחקת תיקצץ שמוחק הספרים כשורפי התורה

Following my posts R. Yitzchak Zilber published two pieces in Hebrew.




With regard to ArtScroll, the two pieces don’t really contain anything not mentioned already on this blog, but for those who don’t read English they are valuable. It is also good to see a noted talmid hakham express his feelings about what he terms ArtScroll’s “stupid act”. (I understand why documents like the ones published by Zilber, which are directed towards a certain population, cannot cite the Seforim Blog. Yet it is noteworthy that Uriel Simon’s book אזן מלין תבחן is cited, even if the author’s name is not mentioned). One significant point made by Zilber is his claim that ArtScroll knows the truth, namely, that the passages it chose to censor are not heretical insertions, but it chose to censor them anyway.

I have received emails that make the same point, that the censorship is all about “business”. In other words, the haredi world today does not want to see Rashbam’s peshat understanding of when the day begins, so the censorship is necessary in order for ArtScroll’s mikraot gedolot Chumash to sell. Based on what I have been told by people supposedly in the know, I am inclined to believe this. This is also an appealing explanation as it is much easier to accept than that anyone at ArtScroll really believes in the justification for its censorship that was sent out and which I discussed in the earlier post.

In my post I referred to additional authorities, other than Rashbam, who understood that according to the peshat the first chapter of Genesis teaches that the day begins in the morning.[3] I also mentioned those who believe that this was how things were before the giving of the Torah. R. Moshe Maimon called my attention to the fact that R. Saadiah Gaon also apparently held this view.[4] Here is R. Kafih’s edition of R. Saadiah, Perushei Rabbenu Sa’adiah Gaon al ha-Torah, p. 71. Look at chapter 10, note 4.


R. Ovadiah Yosef cites a number of additional sources that mention the notion that before the giving of the Torah night came after day.[5] One of these is R. Moses Sofer,[6] who not surprisingly quotes his teacher, R. Pinhas Horowitz, whose view on this matter I referred to in the prior post.[7] R. Meir Mazuz[8] notes that R. Reuven Margaliyot says the same thing.[9]

A number of people commented on how ironic it is that Ibn Ezra is being used as a source to determine what is heretical, being that his views on Mosaic authorship are themselves regarded by heretical by ArtScroll.[10] Furthermore, Ibn Ezra has no reticence in citing Karaite interpreters, yet as we know, ArtScroll only cites “accepted” authorities, and won’t even mention the Soncino commentary by name. Incidentally, there are some times when ArtScroll errs in this matter. For example, in its commentary to Jonah, p. 111, it cites “Yefes ben Ali” (who is quoted by Ibn Ezra). Presumably, the ArtScroll editor assumed that he was a rishon.[11] In truth, he was a Karaite, and his inclusion in the Jonah commentary is diametrically opposed to the standard set up by ArtScroll with regard to which commentators they will cite, a standard that opposes the Ibn Ezra-Maimonides approach (adopted by Soncino) of “accept the truth from whomever said it”.[12]

When it comes to Karaite influence on Ibn Ezra, R. Joseph Delmedigo goes so far as to say that most[!] of Ibn Ezra’s explanations come from the Karaites. Reflecting the fact that Ibn Ezra does sometimes strongly reject the Karaite interpretations, Delmedigo states that Ibn Ezra is like a baby who nurses from his mother [i.e., the Karaites] but sometimes also bites her breast.[13]

ודע כי בספרי הקראים תמצא באור לדברי הר"א"ב"ע[!] כי רוב באוריו מקדמוניהם כגון הר"ר ישועה והר"ר יפת והר"ר יהודה הפרסי דולה מושך גם כי לפעמים כיונק שדי אמו נושך

Philip Birnbaum writes:

Ibn Ezra cites Yefet more frequently than any other exegete. In his commentary on the Minor Prophets, Ibn Ezra quotes Yefet forty-four times whereas he mentions Sa’adyah Gaon only five times. . . . Ibn Ezra borrows from Yefet much more than he acknowledges.[14]

This connection of Ibn Ezra to Yefet even led to the creation of a false legend that Ibn Ezra was a student of Yefet.[15]

While Ibn Ezra often adopts the interpretations of Karaite commentators, he also blasts them when necessary. One such example is in his commentary to Deuteronomy 12:17 where he writes: “The heretics [Karaites] say that there are two sorts of first-born. One is the first to break out of its mother’s womb. The second is the first-born of the flock. There is no need to respond to their nonsense.”[16] It is noteworthy that the “nonsense” interpretation that Ibn Ezra refers to is indeed found in a few rishonim including Hizkuni and R. Jacob of Vienna.[17]

Let us now turn to the manuscript of Rashbam. The first thing to mention is that there is only one surviving manuscript page for Rashbam’s commentary to the beginning of Genesis. There used to be another manuscript that contained his commentary to the rest of the Torah but was missing the commentary to Genesis chapters 1-17. Unfortunately, this manuscript was lost during World War II. For such a great figure as Rashbam, it is definitely noteworthy that so few physical specimens of his Torah commentary survived until modern times.[18] What this tells us is that not many scribes were interested in copying the commentary, and I do not know why this was the case. In fact, it is not merely his commentary on the Torah that suffered this fate. While we have Rashbam’s commentaries to most of Bava Batra and the tenth chapter of Pesahim, we know that he also wrote commentaries to most of the other tractates, yet these are lost.[19] Is there any way to explain this?

Here is the manuscript of Rashbam to the beginning of Genesis.


It is found in the Bavarian Staatsbibliothek (Munich) and is referred to as Hebrew Manuscript no. 5 (2). Here is the link.

You can examine the entire manuscript here.

This manuscript of Rashbam is bound together with another manuscript from 1233 that contains the earliest example we have of Rashi’s commentary on the Torah. It is also the first illuminated Ashkenazic manuscript (with the illumination by a non-Jewish artist).[20] The copyist of the Rashi manuscript was not some anonymous person, but R. Solomon ben Samuel of Würzberg. R. Solomon was an outstanding student of R. Samuel he-Hasid and a colleague of R. Judah he-Hasid. He was also a student of R. Yehiel of Paris, and R. Solomon’s son was one of the participants in the 1240 Paris Disputation together with R. Yehiel. R. Solomon wrote Torah works of his own and he may be identical with R. Solomon ben Samuel, the author of the piyyut ישמיענו סלחתי that is recited in Yom Kippur Neilah.[21] ArtScroll, in its Yom Kippur Machzor, p. 746, tells us that ישמיענו סלחתי was written by “R’ Shlomo ben Shmuel of the thirteenth-century.”[22]
It is significant that in this early copy of Rashi’s commentary, whose copyist was himself a Torah great, Rashi’s comment to Genesis 18:22 appears in its entirety.[23] In this comment, Rashi refers to one of the tikun soferim and states that the Sages “reversed” the passage. What this means is that Rashi understood tikun soferim literally. Some have claimed that Rashi could never have said this, and it must be a heretical insertion. (There is always someone who says this about texts that depart from the conventional view.) In line with this approach, ArtScroll deleted this comment of Rashi.[24] As we have seen with the passages of Rashbam that were censored, in this case as well ArtScroll would also no doubt claim that it accepts the view of those who do not regard the deleted comment as authentic. Yet how can such a claim be taken seriously when the earliest manuscript of Rashi’s commentary, dating from the early thirteenth century and copied by R. Solomon ben Samuel, contains the passage?
Returning to Rashbam, I have the following question. Just like there is only one manuscript for his commentary to Genesis chapter 1, for the rest of the commentary on the Torah there was also only one manuscript and we don’t know anything about the copyist. Why don’t ArtScroll and the other censors start deleting the many other “problematic” passages in Rashbam, with the excuse that they are heretical insertions? Why only focus on the commentary to Genesis chapter 1?
I must also note that Rashbam himself, in his introductory words to parashat Mishpatim, refers to his commentary at the beginning of Genesis. Rashbam explains that the point of his commentary is not to explain the halakhah but rather the peshat, “as I have explained in Bereishit.” Where does he explain this in his commentary to Genesis? As Rosin points out in his note, Rashbam discusses this matter at the beginning of his commentary to parashat Va-Yeshev, and also at the beginning of his commentary to parashat Bereshit (which is from the supposedly questionable manuscript).
In my opinion, there is no doubt that in parashat Mishpatim Rashbam had the commentary to parashat Bereishit in mind. You can see this by comparing his words. In his commentary to parashat Mishpatim he writes:
ידעו ויבינו יודעי שכל כי לא באתי לפרש הלכות אע"פ שהם עיקר כמו שפירשתי בבראשית כי מיתור המקראות נשמעין ההגדות וההלכות.
At the beginning of parashat Bereishit he writes:
ועיקר ההלכות והדרשות יוצאין מיתור המקראות
Please look at what I have underlined and compare it to the passage I cited from the commentary to parashat Bereshit.
There are a number of other parallels between what Rashbam states in his commentary to Genesis chapter 1 and what appears elsewhere in his Torah commentary, meaning that it is impossible for one to argue that the commentary on the first chapter of Genesis is of uncertain authorship.[25]
I must also mention that Hizkuni, in his commentary to Genesis chapter 1, incorporates a number of Rashbam’s comments (without mentioning him by name). A list of these was compiled by  אריסמנדי on the Otzar ha-Hokhmah forum. [26] He concludes:
יש לנו להצטער ולמחות על כי שלטו ידי זרים בחיבורי הראשונים, ולתבוע מההוצאות השונות שידפיסו את פירוש רשב"ם בשלמות האפשרית, ואל יהינו לשלוח יד בו. וכשם שלא יעלה על דעת מאן דהוא לצנזר מפירוש ראב"ע את הקטעים שיצאו עליהם מתנגדים, וכיו"ב במשנה תורה להרמב"ם ושאר חיבורי רבותינו ז"ל. הכי לצנזורים הערלים והמשומדים יאמרו להידמות?
In all the correspondence I have had about this matter, which includes people in various haredi communities, no one has disagreed with this last paragraph. In other words, no one has expressed any support for ArtScroll’s censorship of Rashbam, and the reason is obvious. This is not a matter of ideological or scholarly disagreement. It has nothing to do with haredi vs. Religious Zionist. It is about basic scholarly integrity as well as respect for Rashbam and his readers. This is something scholars of all persuasions can agree on.
One final point regarding Rashbam: In my post here I referred to Rashbam’s famous words in his commentary to Gen. 37:2 that he heard from his grandfather that if he had time he would write new commentaries focused on the peshat. Later in his commentary to this verse, he cites an explanation which appears in Rashi (without mentioning him by name) and refers to this explanation as הבל הוא. In a recent article,[27] R. Meir Mazuz refers to this comment and notes that it is not merely Rashbam who, when it came to Torah matters, was not afraid to strongly reject his grandfather’s position. Rashbam’s brother, Rabbenu Tam, also had this approach.
הלא זה האיש שפסל כל התפלין של חכמי דורו (ובכללם של מר זקנו זצ"ל רבן של ישראל) ועשה אותם כקרקפתא דלא מנח תפלין ח"ו . . . וכן פסק ר"ת שכל המאכיל אונה סרוכה באומא מאכיל טריפות לישראל (תוס'חולין דף מ"ז ע"א) בניגוד לדעת רש"י שמתיר (שם דף מ"ו סע"ב). וכן חידש לברך על תש"ר על מצות תפלין, בניגוד לרש"י והרי"ף והרמב"ם.
This will be my last post dealing with ArtScroll and Rashbam unless new information comes to light. I have made my position very clear and there is no need to go over this matter again and again. The important thing is that people not forget that ArtScroll’s new mikraot gedolot Chumash is a censored work.
By now no one is surprised that ArtScroll engages in censorship. This has been their modus operandi from the beginning. But is there more, that is, does ArtScroll also publish things that it knows are incorrect? This is a more difficult question to answer. In Changing the Immutable, p. 41, I cite an example where I am pretty sure that this is the case, since the alternative would be to assume ignorance of a pretty basic fact of which I am certain the learned folks at ArtScroll are well aware. Yet aside from a few such cases, which relate to Jewish-Gentile relations, I don’t know of any evidence that ArtScroll intentionally misinterprets sources. Contrary to what some others think, I assume that if there is a misinterpretation it is simply an error, which all people are liable to make. I admit, however, that I am not sure what to make of the following example (called to my attention by R. Yonason Rosman).
The following is ArtScroll’s commentary to Deut. 29:9, in which it quotes Or ha-Hayyim:
Moses divided the people into categories to suggest that everyone is responsible according to how many others he or she can influence. Leaders may be able to affect masses of people; women, their immediate families and neighbors; children, only a few friends and classmates; common laborers, hardly anyone. God does not demand more than is possible, but He is not satisfied with less (Or HaChaim).
This is a very nice thought, but does Or ha-Hayyim actually say this? Here is Or ha-Hayyim on the verse.
As you can see, Or ha-Hayyim does not say that everyone is responsible according to how many he or she can influence. He specifically states that children are not responsible for others since אינם בני דעה. He then adds that women are like children in this respect (i.e., not responsible for others; he is not including them as אינם בני דעה).[28] Thus, ArtScroll’s presentation of Or ha-Hayyim’s view with regard to children and women is actually the exact opposite of what he really says. Was this an intentional distortion in the name of political correctness or a simple misunderstanding? Does ArtScroll view itself, in darshanut-like fashion, as able to elaborate on and alter the message of the commentaries it quotes, so that when it indicates that an interpretation comes from Or ha-Hayyim (or any other source) it could also mean “based on Or ha-Hayyim”? If the latter is true, one must wonder why there is no indication of this in the preface to the Stone Chumash.
To be continued
* * * *
By now many people have read my new book and I have received lots of comments and additional sources. I will discuss some of them in future posts.

Although I read the book over a number of times before publication and sat shiv’ah neki’im over every sentence, I knew that there would be some errors that got through. I have learnt that absolute perfection is simply unattainable. However, we are fortunate today that errors can be quickly corrected and the corrections publicized very widely through this blog. Those who have the book can simply insert the corrections. When the book is reprinted the corrections will be added as well.
P. 17. I refer to R. Eliezer David Gruenwald. This should be R. Judah Gruenwald (1845-1920). Thanks to Yisroel Rottenberg for catching this mistake.
P. 21. I discuss the concept of halakhah ve-ein morin ken. Shortly before the book went to press, I added a comment to note 74 in which I stated that Mishnah Berakhot 1:1 contains an example where the Sages did not reveal the true halakhah in order to keep people from transgression. This is a mistake and I thank R. Yonason Rosman for the correction. The Sages made a decree to keep people from transgression. Once this was done we are dealing with a actual rabbinic law so it has no connection to halakhah ve-ein morin ken. Furthermore, since it was a rabbinic decree binding on all there is no reason to think that the Sages were concerned that the masses not know that the biblical law allowed for more flexibility. (We do find such a concern in more recent rabbinic literature, as I discuss in the book.)
P. 55. I refer to an article by Jacob J. Schacter on the 93 Beth Jacob girls. I know this article well and I can’t explain how it is that I recorded the co-author of the article as Norma Baumel Joseph. The co-author is actually Judith Tydor Baumel.

P. 205 n. 71. I refer to Teherani, Amudei Mishpat, vol. 1, pp. 147ff. This is the second pagination in the volume.
P. 225. I wrote that R. Naftali Zvi Judah Berlin stated that R. Shneur Zalman of Lyady’s arguments were only intended to intimidate the scholarly reader. R. Yonason Rosman pointed out that my language here is not precise. What the Netziv says is not that R. Shneur Zalman’s arguments were intended to intimidate the scholarly reader, but rather his statement that he has many arguments was for intimidation.
P. 259 n. 100 refers to volume 14 of R. Wosner’s Shevet ha-Levi. This should be volume 11.

And while we are talking about typos, this is a good opportunity to correct an unfortunate error that appeared in the first printing of Studies in Maimonides and His Interpreters, p. 152, right at the end. The first word from the verse from Hosea that I quote is מחמד, not מחמר. If this mistake is found in your copy of the book, please correct it.

_______________


[1] In my post here I mentioned that the Lubavitcher Rebbe referred to Rashbam’s peshat interpretation that the day begins in the morning, the interpretation that was censored by ArtScroll. My reference was to a talk the Rebbe gave, and R. Avrohom Bergstein and others called my attention to the fact that in a letter the Rebbe also referred to this peshat interpretation of Rashbam. See Iggerot Kodesh, vol. 24, no. 934, also found in Likutei Sihot, vol. 15, p. 493.
[2] This passage is quoted from the manuscript by R. Menahem Lonzano. See Jordan S. Penkower, Masorah and Text Criticism in the Early Modern Mediterranean (Jerusalem, 2014), p. 118. Lonzano also refers to Nahmanides’ comment that I quoted.
[3] In this listing I included R. Ezekiel Landau. A Lakewood scholar properly corrected me as R. Landau is only referring to the fact that when it comes to kodashim night goes after day.
[4] R. Moshe Maimon also called my attention to the following: In my post here I discussed R. Dovid Cohen’s book, Ha-Emunah ha-Ne’emanah (Brooklyn, 2012). Among other things, I wrote:

One more point about R. Cohen's book is that it is obvious that at times he is responding to what I wrote in The Limits of Orthodox Theology (and he also makes use of many of the sources I cite). While I am not mentioned by name (no surprise there) I am apparently included among the משמאילים referred to on p. 5 (see Limits, pp. 7-8).

R. Cohen has recently published the seventh volume of his book of questions, Ve-Im Tomar. Look at page 14, no. 216.


Now look at the source for this question provided by R. Cohen.


The question R. Cohen refers to comes from Limits, p. 7 (although I ask why Maimonides does not mention anything about teaching a prospective convert the Thirteen Principles. I don't ask this question about talmudic sages.). Although I was not mentioned by name in Ha-Emunah ha-Ne’emanah, I am certainly honored to be cited in Ve-Im Tomar.



Since I mention R. Cohen, here is a page from his Ohel David, vol. 3, p. 36. 




In his commentary to 1 Kings 7:23 he quotes the verse as follows:

ויעש את הים מוצק עשר באמה משפתו על שפתו

The words I have underlined caught my eye because the verse actually states משפתו עד שפתו. I assume that what appears in R. Cohen's book is a typo as I haven’t seen any editions of Tanach that contain this error. However, this verse is also part of the Sephardic Haftarah for parashat Va-Yakhel, and believe it or not there are chumashim that do make this mistake. Here, for example, is a page from a popular tikkun kor'im. Look at the last words on the page and you will see the mistaken text.


[5] See She’elot u-Teshuvot Hazon Ovadiah, vol. 1, p. 5.
[6] See Torat Moshe, vol. 3, p. 18b and Derashot Hatam Sofer, vol. 2, p. 231b.
[7] It has already been pointed out that while the yeshiva pronuncation of R. Horowitz’s book המקנה is Ha-Makneh, from Jeremiah ch. 32 we see that it should really be pronounced Ha-Miknah. R. Horowitz’s most famous work is הפלאה. This is an abbreviation of הקטן פינחס הלוי איש הורויץ. The spelling I have given of R. Horowitz’s last name is how he himself spelled it. Here is the title page of his Sefer Ketubah, the first part of his Hafla’ah, published in 1787. 


[8] Or Torah, Sivan 5775, p. 945.
[9] Nitzotzei Or, Berakhot 4a.
[10] It is also ironic that in R. Moshe Feinstein’s condemnation of the publication of the commentary of R. Judah he-Hasid, he cites Ibn Ezra’s attack on Yitzhaki for the latter’s own “biblical criticism.” See Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah, vol. 3, no. 114.
[11] This example was earlier noted by B. Barry Levy, “Our Torah, Your Torah and Their Torah: An Evaluation of the Artscroll Phenomenon,” in Howard Joseph, et al., eds., Truth and Compassion: Essays in Judaism and religion in Memory of Rabbi Dr. Solomon Frank (Waterloo, Canada, 1983),  p. 147.
[12] I was quite surprised to find that R. Moses Teitelbaum, Yismah Moshe: Shemot, p. 177b, comes off sounding just like Soncino rather than ArtScroll, in defending citation of Karaite interpreters.

הנה אנכי שולח מלאך ע'באברבנאל שכתב בשם חכמי הקראים כי זה נאמר על יהושע, והנה האומר דבר חכמה אף באוה"ע חכם נקרא, ובאמת שהם גרועים כי הם מינים ואפיקרוסים, מ"מ את הטוב נקבל כי כמה מפרשים הלכו בדרך הזה שהנביא נקרא מלאך

Regarding the Karaites, even though they are to be viewed as heretics, and a Sefer Torah written by a min is to be burnt, R. David Ibn Zimra stated that if one of the Karaites writes a Sefer Torah it is not to be burnt.  Rather, it is to be placed in genizah. The reason for this is that the Karaites believe in the written Torah. See She’elot u-Teshuvot ha-Radbaz, vol. 2, no. 774.

R. Ishtori ha-Parchi, Kaftor va-Ferah, ch. 5 (p. 177b in the Machon Yerushalayim edition) thinks that such a Sefer Torah does not need to be put away, even though one cannot publicly read from it since the letters of God’s name were not written with the proper intention and other rabbinic requirements were not fulfilled. But the Sefer Torah is not pasul simply because of who wrote it. He also mentions the beautiful Bibles produced by Karaites in the Land of Israel. (When he says “Sadducee” he means Karaite.)

מזה נראה שהצדוקי אם כתב ספר תורה שלא יהיה פסול ואע"פ שיקרא מין אינו ממין זה המין שעובד ע"ז . . . והנה תמצא עמנו היום בארץ הצבי הרבה צדוקים סופרים והרבה ספרים נאים מכתיבתם בתורה נביאים וכתובים. ועל ספר תורה מסתברא שבמה שאינו ניכר שאין ראוי לסמוך עליהם כבעבוד לשמה וכתיבת אזכרות לשמן ותפירת היריעות בגידי טהורה.

See R. Yitzhak Ratsaby, ed., Shemot Kodesh ve-Hol (Bnei Brak, 1987), pp. 5-6. See also the important comments of R. David Zvi Rotstein, “Sefer Torah Menukad,” in Ohel Sarah-Leah (Jerusalem, 1999), pp. 673ff. (Rotstein thinks that when Masekhet Soferim refers to “Sadducees” it too means Karaites.)

R. Naftali Zvi Judah Berlin, Meshiv Davar, vol. 2, no. 77, states that it is permissible to write a Sefer Torah for Karaites if they will treat it with respect. For more discussion regarding this matter, see R. Hayyim Hezekiah Medini, Sedei Hemed, vol. 9, Divrei Hakhamim no. 135.
[13] See his letter published in Abraham Geiger, Melo Chofnajim (Berlin, 1840), p. 20 (Hebrew section). See also שפ"ר in Ha-Magid, Sep. 7, 1864, p. 279, arguing that this letter was not written by Delmedigo.
[14]  The Arabic Commentary of Yefet Ben ‘Ali the Karaite on the Book of Hosea (Philadelphia, 1942), pp. xliii-xliv. See Michael Wechsler, The Arabic Translation and Commentary of Yefet ben Eli the Karaite on the Book of Esther (Leiden, 2008), p. 72, who characterizes Ibn Ezra as "the greatest single mediator of Yefet's exegesis (and hence of Karaite exegesis generally) among the Rabbanites."
[15] See Avraham Lipshitz, Pirkei Iyun be-Mishnat ha-Rav Avraham Ibn Ezra (Jerusalem, 1982), p. 192.
[16] I have used the translation of H. Norman Strickman and Arthur M. Silver.
[17] See R. Kasher, Torah Shelemah, vol. 12, pp. 192-193. R. Kasher writes:

ויש להתפלא איך שיטה זו נכנסה גם לפירושי הראשונים ולא ידעו שיסודה ממקור זר

At first I wondered why R. Kasher thought that the origin of this interpretation is with the Karaites. Why not posit that a Rabbanite peshat interpeter could independently arrive at the same conclusion as that offered by the Karaites? I later found that R. Kasher himself, Torah Shelemah vol. 17, p. 311, offers this exact same approach:

 וצ"ל שכתבו כן בדרך פירוש בפשטא דקרא

Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisrael, vol. 1, p. 151 n. 8, assumes that the interpretation indeed originates with the Karaites. Regarding the Karaite understanding, see Torah Shelemah, vol. 27, p. 210. See also my post here where I refer to R. Moshe Feinstein’s attack on a “heretical” interpretation that is also found in a number of rishonim.
[18] Additional pieces from Rashbam were published by Moshe Sokolow, “Ha-Peshatot ha-Mithadshim”: Ketaim Hadashim mi-Perush ha-Torah le-Rashbam – Ketav Yad,” Alei Sefer 11 (1984), pp. 73-80  Jonathan Jacobs argues that these are not part of Rashbam’s Torah commentary but from a polemical letter Rashbam sent to a student. See “Rashbam’s Major Principles of Interpretation as Deduced from a Manuscript Fragment Discovered in 1984” REJ 170 (2011), pp. 443-463. For more comments of Rashbam found in another manuscript, see Elazar Touitou, “Ha-Peshatot ha-Mithadshim be-Khol Yom: Iyunim be-Ferusho shel ha-Rashbam la-Torah (Ramat Gan, 2003), pp. 189ff.
[19] See Israel Moshe Ta-Shma, Ha-Sifrut ha-Parshanit la-Talmud be-Eiropah u-vi-Tzefon Afrikah (Jerusalem, 1999), vol. 1, p. 58.
[20] See Eva Frojimovic, “Jewish Scribes and Christian Illuminators: Interstitial Encounters and Cultural Negotiation,” in Katrin Kogman-Appel and Mati Meyer, eds. Between Judaism and Christianity: Art Historical Essays in Honor of Elisheva (Elisabeth) Revel Neher (Leiden, 2009),  pp. 281-305; Hanna Liss, Creating Fictional Worlds: Peshat Exegesis and Narrativity in Rashbam’s Commentary on the Torah (Leiden, 2011), p. 45 n. 32; Colette Sirat, Hebrew Manuscripts of the Middle Ages, ed. and trans. Nicholas De Lange (Cambridge, 2002), p. 170. Sirat gives the date of the manuscript as 1232. In truth, we can’t be sure if it is 1232 or 1233 as the colophon only gives the Hebrew date 4993, but convention in such cases to give the later date. See the transcription in Frojimovic ,“Jewish Scribes,” p. 301. 
[21] See R. Moshe David Chechik, “Inyanei Aseret ha-Dibrot ve-Ta’amei Rut le-Rabbenu Shlomo mi-Würzberg,” Mi-Shulhan ha-Melakhim 4 (2006), p. 5. R. Yaakov Yisrael Stal hopes to soon publish one of R. Solomon’s works. See Sodei Humash u-She’ar mi-Talmidei Rabbenu Yehudah he-Hasid, ed. Stal (Jerusalem, 1999), p. 17 n. 115.
[22] Leopold Zunz, Literaturgeschichte des synagogalen Poesie (Berlin, 1865). p. 287, does not think that the two R. Solomon ben Samuels are identical. He assumes that the author of the piyyut pre-dates the 13th century R. Solomon ben Samuel we are discussing.
[23] See here.
[24] See Changing the Immutable, p. 44.
[25] See the post of מה שנכון נכון here.
[26] See here.
[27] Or Torah, Elul 5774, pp. 1199-1200.
[28] See R. Yaakov Hayyim Sofer, Edut be-Yaakov (Jerusalem, 2011), vol. 2, p. 164.

Notes on RASHI, ArtScroll Censorship, and Emendation of Rabbinic Texts

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Notes on RASHI, ArtScroll Censorship, and Emendation of Rabbinic Texts

By David Shasha

A new post on the Seforim blog by Professor Marc Shapiro discusses the problem of ArtScroll publishers and the way that it routinely censors rabbinical texts:


Shapiro looks at the issue of RASHBAM’s commentary to Genesis 1, a big problem for Orthodox literalists.

Here is a post from Failed Messiah that explains the difficulty:


RASHBAM is the grandson of RASHI and the brother of Rabbenu Tam; a central figure in one of the most illustrious of all the rabbinical dynasties in the Ashkenazi tradition.

RASHBAM’s comment to Genesis 1 asserts that, according to the literal meaning of the text, the day, contrary to Jewish law, begins in the morning and not the evening.

I will leave the legal controversy to Shapiro and others, but would like to discuss his point on textual emendation.

It is interesting to see the plethora of Ashkenazi figures that Shapiro cites, including Rabbenu Tam and Abraham ben David (RABAD) to support the idea that no texts should be emended based on personal opinion.

The problem with this formulation is that the principle of textual emendation was most emphatically adopted by RASHI, the most important figure in the Ashkenazi rabbinical tradition.

Jose Faur in his classic article “The Legal Thinking of the Tosafot” discusses the matter in some detail:


He notes the freedom Ashkenazi rabbis accorded themselves to emend texts:

The Franco-German school had a liberal attitude toward the text of the Talmud, It is well known that this school felt free to amend, interpolate and delete from the text of the Talmud.

Referencing the classical Ashkenazi source Sefer ha-Yashar and academic discussions by Joseph Weiss and Benjamin Lewin, Faur explains that RASHI’s famous “Hachi Garsinan” – the code term for his many emendations of Talmudic texts – was a central part of the Ashkenazi rabbinical heritage:

The liberal attitude toward the text is reflected in the Franco-German position that the Talmudic text was not put into writing until post-talmudic times, late in the Middle Ages. Accordingly, the Talmudic text was never authoritatively fixed. Since there was no authoritative transmission of the text, it was subject to further development and errors.

We have seen this principle dangerously expanded in the current school of academic Talmud studies which holds that the Talmud was not completed until the late Geonic period, when the bulk of what is called the STAM (anonymous) layer of the corpus was written; contrary to the traditional formulation found in the canonical Epistle of Sherira Ga’on.

For more on the current scholarly revolution against the normative Jewish tradition, led by David Weiss-Halivni, see the following books:




Without any actual documentary or historical evidence, the revisionist scholarship – similar to German Higher Criticism of the Hebrew Bible – demands that we see different historical strata in the Babylonian Talmud.  This would undermine its literary unity and its historical presentation of the classical rabbinic tradition as formulated in the academies of Sura and Pumbedita.

The new scholarship claims that the text is a frightful hodge-podge of confused materials that is often sloppily and incoherently edited.  Texts are ignorantly assembled by anonymous rabbis who lack a historical connection to their predecessors.  It is all a fabrication lacking the firm authority of tradition.

The close of the Talmudic canon, as formulated by Sherira Ga’on in his famous Epistle, is in the 6th century:



Jose Faur has written an excellent treatment of the matter in his “Textuality in the Rabbinic Tradition,” chapter 4 of his book Golden Doves with Silver Dots, which is an important corrective to this benighted revisionism:


A good deal of the current scholarship attacking the Geonic tradition and its dating of the Talmudic corpus seeks to aggressively negate Faur’s assertions about the Oral Law and its textual manifestations. The written form of the Talmud and the tradition of emendation by Ashkenazi rabbis, and now academic scholars, has thus become part of a larger problem of the authority of the Oral Law in contemporary Judaism. Shapiro claims that the Ashkenazi rabbis, and their Sephardic followers like Moses Nahmanides, were firmly against this method of emendation, even though the leader of their school, RASHI, was a strong proponent of it:


The following discussion by Jacob Neusner reviews the salient points involved the matter of RASHI and the Tosafist School:


Neusner claims that RASHI emended the Talmudic text over 2,300 times based on his own personal opinion!

It is interesting to note both the parallels and differences between the emendation process in the older Ashkenazi tradition and the way it is now being deployed by Ultra-Orthodox fundamentalists like ArtScroll.  The idea of censorship has become a very modern way of dealing with inconvenient historical details.  So while the substantive elements of RASHI and ArtScroll are indeed quite different it should be noted that the role of PILPUL and “Da’as Torah,” the imposition of personal opinions and values on Jewish texts, remain a central part of Ashkenazi rabbinic authoritarianism and its modern academic offshoots.

The historical dialectic is quite striking.

In addition to the emendation process during the early Middle Ages in Germany and France, the Ashkenazi tradition as embodied in the PILPUL methodology of Rabbenu Tam and the Tosafists developed the “Davqa/Lav Davqa” method of analysis which would interpret texts in a relativistic manner.  Some texts were, Davqa, to be interpreted as written, others, Lav Davqa, were not to be interpreted as written.

Again, it is Jose Faur who has been best able to decode this casuistic methodology, finding a connection with the hermeneutics of Peter Abelard and his Scholastic apologetics:

The Tosafot, occasionally, prefaced their analysis of the Talmud by declaring that the sense of the text is lav davqa (not exact). The lav davqa methodology revolutionized the study of the Talmud and changed the content of Jewish law. This methodology is grounded on the assumption that the rabbinic texts may be interpreted not in accordance to their usual sense. The methodology, as well as the philosophy of language that it projected, was brilliantly formulated by Abelard. Abelard, in his attempt to reconcile the conflicting views found in the writings of the Church Fathers, formulated the semantic principles that the same word may be differently used by different writers.

Here is how Faur sums up the matter:

It is intellectually acceptable to describe things not in accordance to what they really are.

This explication ties together the various anti-rational strains that are inherent to the Ashkenazi rabbinical tradition and its modern exponents.

In the end it affirms the absolute power of the interpreter over the text, the rabbi over the Law. It removes agency from the community and dangerously invests absolute power in the rabbinical class.

It is therefore quite interesting to read Shapiro’s attack on ArtScroll which does not at all reference the history of RASHI’s emendations, the PILPUL method of the Tosafot, or the shocking revisionism of contemporary Judaic scholars which has essentially sought to eviscerate the historical integrity of the Talmudic tradition.

[1]: א״ל הקב״ה … יודע אני כוונתו של אהרן היאך היתה לטובה On a Short Wedding Wish to the Lichtensteins from the Pen of Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg

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 [1]: א״ל הקב״ה … יודע אני כוונתו של אהרן היאך היתה לטובה
On a Short Wedding Wish to the Lichtensteins from the Pen of Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg
By Shaul Seidler-Feller

I

Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein, zts”l, the late, lamented, “irreplaceable”[2]gedol ha-dor of the Modern Orthodox and Religious Zionist communities,[3]has been characterized by those who knew him as a larger-than-life – indeed, angelic[4]– leader whose complete command of every facet of Torah learning was matched only by his sterling character and superlative (almost Hafets Hayyim-like) piety.[5]One of the things that struck me most, however, in listening to and reading several of the eulogies delivered or published after his passing was precisely how genuinely human this prince among men was in his personal and family life. Mrs. Esti Rosenberg, one of Rav Lichtenstein’s daughters and the head of the Stella K. Abraham Beit Midrash for Women – Migdal Oz, used the biblical metaphor of “a ladder set up on the earth, whose head reached unto heaven” (Gen. 28:12)[6]to capture how her father managed to radiate both a rarefied aura of sanctity and, crucially, a true humanity that extended to such mundane matters as doing most of the laundry in the house,[7]getting the kids ready in the mornings,[8]helping them with their homework in the evenings,[9]coming to learn with them after sedertwice a week,[10] making sure to eat dinner with them almost every night,[11]washing the dishes after Shabbat had ended so that his kids would not fight over whose responsibility it was,[12]attending their performances in the Ezra youth group or at school,[13]teaching them how to ride a bike,[14]playing Scrabble and chess with them,[15]taking an interest in their friends,[16]buying them gifts and clothing during his visits to the States,[17]etc. – all of them activities that might be undertaken by normal devoted fathers but that I think we usually, rightly or wrongly, do not associate with people of Rav Lichtenstein’s intellectual caliber and spiritual stature. Indeed, in the words of Rabbi Avishai David, a student of Rav Aharon’s, “Rav Lichtenstein was a normal gadol ba-Torah, a very normal gadol ba-Torah.”[18]

And, of course, the same level of devotion was manifest in his relationship with his wife, Dr. Tovah Lichtenstein (nee Soloveitchik). Rav Aharon’s children reflected at the levayah on the mutual respect and unwavering support each partner showed the other,[19]while his students described some of the (ever-modest) manifestations of their affection for one another.[20]Dr. Lichtenstein herself summed it up best in a video produced in honor of her husband’s eightieth birthday when she said, “He invested both intellectually and emotionally in our children.[21]And he invested in our marriage as well – he was not only a family man but also a husband.”[22]

II

It is in this context, then, that I wish to digress for a moment and travel back in time to the Lichtensteins’ wedding, the point at which this whole story started, by way of a unique text discovered by Menachem Butler in a volume on the shelves of Yeshiva University’s Mendel Gottesman Library of Hebraica/Judaica. The year is 1959, and Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg (1884–1966), famed prewar rector of the Hildesheimer Rabbinical Seminary in Berlin and author of the Seridei esh compendium of responsa, halakhic novellae, and topical essays, is living out the last stage of his life in Montreux, Switzerland. Meanwhile, across the ocean in the United States, Rav Lichtenstein has just received semikhah from Yeshiva University’s Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary, having completed his doctorate in English literature at Harvard two years prior,[23]and is engaged to be married to Tovah Soloveitchik, daughter of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Rav Aharon’s rav muvhak.[24]The couple originally planned to wed Tuesday night, 22 Kislev 5720 (December 22, 1959), in the Dorothy Quincy Suite of the John Hancock Building in Boston, the bride’s hometown (see Fig. 1).[25] 


 Fig. 1

In anticipation of the joyous occasion, to which he apparently could not arrive in person, Rav Weinberg sent an inscribed volume of Yad sha’ul,[26]a collection of essays compiled in memory of his beloved talmid muvhak (and the person primarily responsible for bringing him to Montreux in the first place),[27]Rabbi Saul Weingort (ca. 1914–1946),[28]who had passed away following a tragic train accident while on his way to deliver a shi‘ur at the yeshivah in Montreux.[29]Through some serendipitous twist of fate, it is this copy of the sefer which made its way into the open stacks of the Gottesman Library. The dedicatory text (see Fig. 2) and my translation thereof follow:




Fig. 2


מזכרת ידידות
ושי לחתונה
של הרה״ג ד״ר אהרן ליכטנשטיין
עב״ג
מרת טובה סולוביציק ילאי״ט
בתו
של גאון הדור ותפארתו
ידידי הגאון הגדול מאוה״ג
מהרי״ד הלוי סולוביציג [!][30]שליט״א
שתתקיים במז״ט ובשעה מוצלחת
בכ״ב לחודש כסליו שנת תש״כ
ויה״ר שהזוג היקר יתברך
ממעון הברכות בחיים ארוכים
טובים ומאושרים ומוצלחים בכל
דרכי חייהם, והבית אשר יוקם
,יהי׳ לשם ולתפארת בישראל
ולמקור עונג ושמחת עולמים 
.להוריהם הדגולים
יחיאל יעקב וויינברג 
מונתרה, ח׳ בכסליו, תש״כ

A gift and token of friendship presented on the occasion of the marriage of the ga’on, Rabbi Dr. Aharon Lichtenstein, to his soul mate, Ms. Tovah Soloveitchik[31]– may their years be long and good – the daughter of this generation’s pride and splendor, my friend, the great ga’onand Luminary of the Diaspora, our teacher, Rabbi Joseph B. ha-Levi Soloveitchik – may his years be long and good, amen – which is set to take place, under a lucky star and at an auspicious hour, on 22 Kislev [5]720. May it be His will that this precious couple be blessed from the Abode of Blessing with long, good, and joyous lives and with success in all of their endeavors. And may the home that they build be of fame and of glory in Israel [see I Chron. 22:5] and a source of eternal delight and happiness for their distinguished parents.
Jehiel Jacob Weinberg
Montreux, 8 Kislev [5]720 [December 9, 1959]

I think this text is historically significant for at least two reasons. First, while I am unaware of any subsequent contact between the Lichtensteins and Rav Weinberg following the wedding,[32]this message certainly attests to a longstanding relationship of mutual regard between Rabbis Weinberg and Soloveitchik, two leading rashei yeshivah whose formative years were spent in both the Lithuanian yeshivah world and the German academy. We know from other sources that they first met while the Rav was a student at the University of Berlin in the 1920s; according to testimony cited by Rabbi Aaron Rakeffet-Rothkoff, the Rav audited classes at Rav Weinberg’s Seminary during the 1926–1927 academic year.[33]Their encounters extended well beyond the classroom, however,[34]and even though Rav Weinberg was generally not enamored of the Brisker derekh ha-limmud espoused by Rav Soloveitchik and his forebears,[35]these two intellectual powerhouses maintained a deep appreciation for one another throughout their lives[36]– as can certainly be seen in Rav Weinberg’s above inscription.

The second issue that I wish to discuss here relates to the date of the wedding itself. As of 8 Kislev 5720, Rav Weinberg, quite justifiably, thought that it would take place two weeks hence. However, that very evening, December 9 – the same night the Rav delivered the aforementioned (n. 35) hesped for his uncle, Rabbi Isaac Ze’ev Soloveitchik (1886–1959) – Rav Soloveitchik “informed his family that he had been diagnosed with colon cancer, and would be returning to Boston the next day for surgery. His daughter Tovah and her fiancé R. Aharon Lichtenstein postponed their wedding (which had been set to take place in the coming days) until a few weeks later, so that the Rav could participate.”[37]Thus, the wedding was not actually held until Tuesday night, 27 Tevet 5720 (January 26, 1960) (see Figs. 3 and 4),[38] something Rav Weinberg could not have predicted at the time he penned his wishes to the young couple.




Fig. 3



Fig. 4

III

In any case, returning to the present after our brief historical sojourn, it seems to me that, aside from all he taught us about avodat Hashem, lomdes, morality, and how to live as deeply committed Jews in the modern world, Rav Lichtenstein also modeled what it means to be a “totally devoted” family man.[39]As Rabbi Menachem Genack, who began his undergraduate studies at Yeshiva College when Rav Lichtenstein was already a rosh kolel in RIETS, remarked, “Rav Aharon’s gadlus batorah is well-known, but less celebrated is his gadlus as a father and as a son, his commitment and dedication to his family. Rav Aharon was always learning, but nevertheless managed to spend time with all of his children.”[40]Indeed, anyone who sees the pictures of Rav Aharon and his family featured in the aforementioned video will immediately understand what Rabbi Mayer Lichtenstein meant when he said that his father fulfilled the talmudic principle of ner hanukkah ve-ner beito, ner beito adif (Shabbat 23b).[41]With this background, it should not surprise us that, when asked, “What are you most proud of having accomplished during these years of service?” Rav Lichtenstein answered:
Looking back over the past 50 years, what I am proudest of is what some would regard as being a non-professional task. I’m proudest of having built, together with my wife, the wonderful family that we have. It is a personal accomplishment, a social accomplishment, and a contribution – through what they are giving and will give, each in his or her own way – in service of the Ribbono shel Olam in the future.[42]
I think the lesson for us, his students, is clear. May we be zokheh to rise to the challenge of carrying forth all aspects of Rav Lichtenstein’s multifaceted legacy for many years to come.




* I wish at the outset to express my appreciation to yedidi, Reb Menachem Butler, ne‘im me’assefei yisra’el, for furnishing me with the opportunity, as well as many of the bibliographical sources (including the primary text itself!) required, to compose this essay. Additional thanks go to his fellow editors at the Seforim Blog for their consideration of this piece and, generally, for their great service to the public in maintaining such an active and high-quality platform for the serious discussion of topics of Jewish interest. Finally, I am indebted to my friends Eliyahu Krakowski, Daniel Tabak, and Shlomo Zuckier for their editorial corrections and comments to earlier drafts of this piece which, taken together, improved it considerably.

[1] See Shemot rabbah (Vilna ed.) to Parashat tetsavveh 37:2.
[2] Dr. David Berger quoted Rabbi Yosef Blau as describing Rav Lichtenstein in this way and went on to characterize him in similar terms here(listen at about 1:04:40). Rabbi Ezra Schwartz said in effect the same thing here, and in some ways went even further (listen at about 58:00).
[3] For evidence of how strongly his loss has already been felt in the Modern Orthodox/Religious Zionist communities, one need only peruse the ever-expanding number of articles and tributes that have been cataloged on the Yeshivat Har Etzion websites here and here.
[4] One set of verses to which maspidim kept returning when describing Rav Lichtenstein was those that appear in Malachi 2:5-7, together with the rabbinic interpretation thereof: “If a given rabbi can be compared to an angel of the Lord of Hosts, let them ask him to teach them Torah, and vice versa” (Hagigah 15b, Mo‘ed katan 17a). See the hespedimof Rabbis Mayer Lichtenstein here(listen at about 7:50), Mordechai Schnaidman here(listen at about 23:00), and my friend Mordy Weisel here(listen at about 5:05). Similarly, others have described him as angelic without specific recourse to the verses in Malachi; see the hespedim of Rabbis Mosheh Lichtenstein here(listen at about 9:25) and Avishai David here(listen at about 1:03:25).
[5] So according to Rabbi Mordechai Schnaidman here(listen at about 16:00); see also Yosef Zvi Rimon, “Keitsad magdirim gedol dor?JobKatif (May 4, 2015). Similarly, Rabbi Ari Kahn compared Rav Lichtenstein to Rabbi Israel Salanter (1810–1883) here(listen at about 9:00 and 48:55), and Mrs. Esti Rosenberg said that the stories people tell about her father remind her of those told about Rabbi Aryeh Levin (1885–1969); see her interview with Yair Sheleg: “Yaledah ahat mul 700 otobusim,” Shabbat: musaf le-torah, hagut, sifrut ve-omanut 927 (May 15, 2015).
[6] See her hespedhere(listen at about 0:35 and 2:25).
[7] See the hesped of Mrs. Tanya Mittleman, Rav Lichtenstein’s youngest, here(listen at about 10:15).
[8] See the hesped of Rabbi Nathaniel Helfgot here(listen at about 46:55).
[9] See the hesped of my friend David Pruwer here(watch at about 18:50).
[10] See the hespedim of Rabbis Mosheh Lichtenstein here(listen at about 4:50), Mayer Lichtenstein here(listen at about 12:35), and Assaf Bednarsh here(listen at about 14:05), as well as the video produced in honor of Rav Lichtenstein’s eightieth birthday here (watch at about 9:25 and 11:35) and that of a public conversation between Rabbi Benny Lau and Rav Aharon and Dr. Tovah Lichtenstein on the topic of “Education and Family in the Modern World” held in Ra’anana on May 13, 2012 here (watch at about 27:45 and 28:55). See also the recently-released essay “On Raising Children,” The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash(May 2015), based on a sihahdelivered by Rav Lichtenstein in July 2007.
[11] See the video produced in honor of Rav Lichtenstein’s eightieth birthday here (watch at about 11:25), as well as the hesped of Mrs. Tanya Mittleman here(listen at about 19:05) and Mrs. Esti Rosenberg’s interview with Yair Sheleg, “Yaledah ahat mul 700 otobusim.”
[12] See the hesped of Mrs. Tanya Mittleman here(listen at about 11:00). Similarly, Rabbi Julius Berman relates in his hespedherethat when Rav Aharon would stay at his house during visits to the States, he would always wash his own dishes when he had finished eating (listen at about 20:30).
[13] See the hespedim of Mrs. Esti Rosenberg here(listen at about 3:05) and Mrs. Tanya Mittleman here(listen at about 19:20), as well as the video produced in honor of Rav Lichtenstein’s eightieth birthday here (watch at about 11:15).
[14] See the hesped of Rabbi Shay Lichtenstein here(listen at about 23:00). See also the hespedof David Pruwer here(watch at about 18:45), as well as Rav Lichtenstein’s “On Raising Children.”
[15] On Scrabble, see the hesped of Rabbi Shay Lichtenstein here(listen at about 4:40). On chess, see the video produced in honor of Rav Lichtenstein’s eightieth birthday here (watch at about 12:20).
[16] See the hesped of Mrs. Tanya Mittleman here(listen at about 19:10).
[17] Ibid. (listen at about 10:30).
[18] See his hespedhere(listen at about 16:50).
[19] See the hespedim of Rabbi Mayer Lichtenstein here(listen at about 16:15 and 17:30), Mrs. Esti Rosenberg here(listen at about 13:35 and 15:25), and Mrs. Tanya Mittleman here(listen at about 21:30); see also that of my friend Noach Lerman here(listen at about 37:35).
[20] Rabbi Assaf Bednarsh recounted herethat when Rav Lichtenstein would call his wife on the phone, he would address her as “darling,” rather than “rebetsin” (listen at about 14:35). (Dr. Lichtenstein herself reminisced here about how her husband would sometimes jokingly address her as “Mrs. L.,” and she, in turn, would call him “Reb Aharon” [watch at about 1:10]). Noach Lerman talked hereabout how Rav Aharon would open the car door for his wife when they drove somewhere (listen at about 34:25). Similarly, see the video here for a picture of husband and wife going rafting together (watch at about 12:22) and, of course, the dedication Rav Lichtenstein inscribed at the front of his two-volume Leaves of Faith (Jersey City, NJ: Ktav Pub. House, 2003–2004): “To Tovah: With Appreciation and Admiration.”

For Rav Lichtenstein’s analysis of the Torah’s attitude toward the institutions of marriage and family and how they square with more modern conceptions, see his “Ha-mishpahah ba-halakhah,” in Mishpehot beit yisra’el: ha-mishpahah bi-tefisat ha-yahadut(Jerusalem: Misrad ha-Hinnukh ve-ha-Tarbut – Ha-Mahlakah le-Tarbut Toranit, 1976), 13-30, esp. pp. 21-30; “Of Marriage: Relationship and Relations,” Tradition 39:2 (Summer 2005): 7-35, esp. pp. 10-13 (reprinted herein Rivkah Blau, Gender Relationships in Marriage and Out [New York: Michael Scharf Publication Trust of the Yeshiva University Press; Jersey City, NJ: Ktav Pub. House, 2007], 1-34, and in Aharon Lichtenstein, Varieties of Jewish Experience [Jersey City, NJ: Ktav Pub. House, 2011], 1-37); and “On Raising Children.”

[21] In the course of the aforementioned (n. 10) public conversation on the topic of “Education and Family in the Modern World” here, Dr. Lichtenstein recalled that at the berit milah of the couple’s firstborn son Mosheh, her father, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (1903–1993), sensing that Rav Lichtenstein harbored grand aspirations to save the world, spoke about the importance of the father’s role in raising his children and not leaving the job solely to his wife (watch at about 26:00). See Rav Aharon’s parallel account in “On Raising Children,” as well as his comment there that “I feel very strongly about the need for personal attention in child-raising, and have tried to put it into practice.”
[22] Watch here at about 12:15. Incidentally, during a different part of that same public event in Ra’anana, available here, Rav Lichtenstein commented on the role of children in strengthening the emotional bond between partners (watch at about 35:15; see also 53:55).
[23] Shlomo Zuckier and Shalom Carmy, “An Introductory Biographical Sketch of R. Aharon Lichtenstein,” Tradition 47:4 (2015): 6-16, at p. 7. His dissertation would eventually appear as Aharon Lichtenstein, Henry More: The Rational Theology of a Cambridge Platonist (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1962).
[24] According to my friend Jonathan Ziring, in an e-mail communication dated May 28, 2015, the Lichtensteins first met, by chance, at the home of Rabbi Ahron Soloveichik (1917–2001), the Rav’s brother and another major influence on Rav Lichtenstein. The Rav would later encourage Rav Aharon to court his daughter, and the rest, as they say, is history.
[25] Image courtesy of Naftali Balanson’s Facebook page, as brought to my attention by Rabbi Jeffrey Saks.
[26] Jehiel Jacob Weinberg and Pinchas Biberfeld (eds.), Yad sha’ul: sefer zikkaron a[l] sh[em] ha-rav d”r sha’ul weingort zts”l (Tel Aviv: The Widow of Saul Weingort, 1953).
[27] See Rav Weinberg’s memorial essay, “Le-zikhro,” printed at the beginning of Yad sha’ul, pp. 3-19, at p. 13.
[28] The date of Rabbi Weingort’s birth seems somewhat controversial. Rav Weinberg himself, in “Le-zikhro,” 4, estimates that his student was born in either 5673 or 5674 (1913 or 1914), whereas the frontmatterof the Yad sha’ul volume gives the precise date 12 Kislev 5675 (November 30, 1914); Marc B. Shapiro, Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy: The Life and Works of Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, 1884–1966 (London; Portland, OR: Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 1999), 161, claims he was born in 1915; and the website of the Yad Shaoul kolel in Kokhav Ya’akov, opened in 2011 and dedicated in Rabbi Weingort’s memory, concurs with Shapiro.
[29] See Weinberg, “Le-zikhro,” 15.
[30] Most readers are probably familiar with the more common Hebrew spelling of “Soloveitchik” with a final kof. Rav Weinberg, however, generally preferred ending the name in a gimel(except, strangely, in the case of the Rav’s daughter Tovah).
[31] Dr. Lichtenstein would go on to complete her doctoral studies in social work at Bar-Ilan University following the family’s arrival in Israel in 1971, writing her dissertation on “Genealogical Bewilderment and Search Behavior: A Study of Adult Adoptees Who Search for their Birth Parents” (1992). She is therefore referred to here without her doctoral title.

[32] It should be noted that Rav Lichtenstein served as coeditor of the rabbinic periodical Hadorom during the mid-1960s and, as such, may have been involved in editing some of Rav Weinberg’s last publications to appear during his lifetime. (For a partial bibliography of Rav Weinberg’s oeuvre, see Michael Brocke and Julius Carlebach, Biographisches Handbuch der Rabbiner: Teil 2: Rabbiner im Deutschen Reich, 1871–1945, vol. 2 [Munich: K. G. Saur, 2009], 639-640 [no. 2657]. For a fuller inventory, see Shapiro, Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, 239-246.) Discovery and analysis of any potential remaining correspondence between the two during this period remain scholarly desiderata.
[33] See Aaron Rakeffet-Rothkoff, The Rav: The World of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, ed. Joseph Epstein, vol. 1 (Hoboken, NJ: Ktav Pub. House, 1999), 27 with n. 13. Similarly, see Shalom Carmy, “R. Yehiel Weinberg’s Lecture on Academic Jewish Scholarship,” Tradition24:4 (Summer 1989): 15-23, at p. 16.
[34] See Werner Silberstein, My Way from Berlin to Jerusalem, trans. Batya Rabin (Jerusalem: Special Family Edition Published in Honor of the Author’s 95thBirthday, 1994), 26-27, as quoted in Aaron Rakeffet-Rothkoff, “Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik: The Early Years,” Tradition 30:4 (Summer 1996): 193-209, at p. 197; idem, The Rav, 28; and idem, From Washington Avenue to Washington Street (Jerusalem; Lynbrook, NY: Gefen; New York: OU Press, 2011), 108 (available here).
[35] See his letter to Rabbi Jacob Arieli of Jerusalem composed sometime after 2 Nisan 5711 (April 8, 1951), as reproduced in Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, Seridei esh: she’elot u-teshuvot hiddushim u-bei’urim be-dinei orah hayyim ve-yoreh de‘ah, vol. 2 (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 2003), 355-357 (sec. 144), at pp. 356-357; his letters to Dr. Gabriel Hayyim Cohn, dated 27 Tevet 5725 (January 1, 1965) and 19 Kislev 5726 (December 13, 1965), as reproduced in Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, Kitvei ha-ga’on rabbi yehiʼel yaʻakov weinberg, zts”l, ed. Marc B. Shapiro, vol. 2 (Scranton, PA: Marc B. Shapiro, 2003), 219 n. 4 (esp. the latter one); and the beginning of the selection from his eulogy for Rabbi Weingort printed in Yad sha’ul, 16. For a partial translation of the Rav’s famous hesped“Mah dodekh mi-dod,” which originally appeared in Hebrew in Hadoar43:39 (September 27, 1963): 752-759 and is referred to by Rav Weinberg in the last letter cited above, see Jeffrey Saks, “Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik on the Brisker Method,” Tradition 33:2 (Winter 1999): 50-60.

For further discussion of these and similar sources, see Judith Bleich, “Between East and West: Modernity and Traditionalism in the Writings of Rabbi Yehi’el Ya’akov Weinberg,” in Moshe Z. Sokol (ed.), Engaging Modernity: Rabbinic Leaders and the Challenge of the Twentieth Century (Northvale, NJ; Jerusalem: Jason Aronson Inc., 1997), 169-273, at p. 239; Marc B. Shapiro, “The Brisker Method Reconsidered,” Tradition 31:3 (Spring 1997): 78-102, at p. 86, with n. 25; idem, Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, 194-195, with nn. 95-98; and Nathan Kamenetsky, Making of a Godol: A Study of Episodes in the Lives of Great Torah Personalities, vol. 1, 1sted. (Jerusalem: Hamesorah, 2002), 432-433. See also Rabbi Eliezer Berkovits’ assessment of his teacher’s derekh ha-limmud in “Rabbi Yechiel Yakob Weinberg zatsa”l: My Teacher and Master,” Tradition 8:2 (Summer 1966): 5-14, at pp. 5-10. For Rav Lichtenstein’s own reflections on the types of criticisms of the Brisker derekh expressed by Rav Weinberg, see his “Torat Hesed and Torat Emet: Methodological Reflections,” in idem, Leaves of Faith, 1:61-87, esp. at pp. 78-83, as well as an earlier version of this essay cited in Shapiro, “The Brisker Method Reconsidered,” 93-94. (I am indebted to Eliyahu Krakowski for bringing the Kamenetsky and Lichtenstein references to my attention.) See also Aharon Lichtenstein, “The Conceptual Approach to Torah Learning: The Method and Its Prospects,” in idem, Leaves of Faith, 1:19-60, esp. at pp. 43-44, 48-50.

As an aside, and as far as I can tell, allusions to a “Rabbi Moses Soloveitchik” in Rav Weinberg’s published works, excluding those made in the above letters, generally refer not to the Rav’s father (1879–1941) but to his Swiss first cousin (1915–1995), son of Rabbi Israel Gerson Soloveitchik (1875–1941), son of Rabbi Hayyim Soloveitchik (1853–1918).
[36] Indeed, Rav Weinberg would consistently refer to the Rav in writing by his honorific rabbinic handle, “Ha-g[a’on] r[abbi] y[osef] d[ov],” or a variant thereof (as in our case); see his Seridei esh, 2:196-201 (sec. 78), at p. 198 (dated 29 Adar 5716 [March 12, 1956]), and idem, Kitvei ha-ga’on rabbi yehiʼel yaʻakov weinberg, zts”l, 219 n. 4. According to Shapiro, Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, 163, Rav Weinberg also contacted the Rav after the War to seek his assistance during his long recovery.
For the Rav’s part, the postwar written record with which I am familiar is a bit more reticent, although Rabbi Howard Jachter reports the following in the context of a discussion of the prohibition of kol ishah and Rav Weinberg’s now-famous lenient ruling on the question:

Interestingly, I asked Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik in July 1985 whether he agrees with this ruling of Rav Weinberg. The Rav replied, “I agree with everything that he wrote, except for his permission to stun animals before Shechita” (see volume one of Teshuvot Seridei Eish). Rav Soloveitchik related his great appreciation of Rav Yechiel Yaakov Weinberg. Rav Shalom Carmy later told me that Rav Soloveitchik and Rav Weinberg had been close friends during the years that Rav Soloveitchik studied in Berlin.

See Howard Jachter, “The Parameters of Kol Isha,” Kol Torah 11:17 (February 2, 2002).

For more on the shehitah controversy referred to here, see H. J. Zimmels, The Echo of the Nazi Holocaust in Rabbinic Literature (New York: Ktav Publishing House, Inc., 1977), 183-189; Bleich, “Between East and West,” 260-261, 271-272; and Shapiro, Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, 117-129, 192. For Rav Soloveitchik’s own involvement in questions relating to the humane slaughter of animals, see Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Community, Covenant and Commitment: Selected Letters and Communications, ed. Nathaniel Helfgot (Jersey City, NJ: Toras HoRav Foundation, 2005), 61-67.
[37] Jeffrey Saks, “Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and the Israeli Chief Rabbinate: Biographical Notes (1959–60),” BDD 17 (September 2006): 45-67, at p. 53.
[38] Fig. 3 is courtesy of Naftali Balanson’s Facebook page, as brought to my attention by Rabbi Jeffrey Saks. Fig. 4 derives from the video produced in honor of Rav Lichtenstein’s eightieth birthday here (watch at about 1:03). (I am indebted to Rabbis Dov Karoll, Jeffrey Saks, and Reuven Ziegler for confirming some of the details of the Lichtenstein wedding for me.)
[39] See the interview with Rabbi Dov Karoll on Voice of Israel here(listen at about 2:55). See also the hespedof Rabbi Mosheh Lichtenstein here(listen at about 5:15). Similarly, at a sheloshimevent held at the Hechal Shlomo Jewish Heritage Center in Jerusalem on May 18, Mrs. Esti Rosenberg, in speaking of her father’s self-identification with the Levites as the prime exemplars of ovedei Hashem par excellence, commented that just as the Levites were netunim netunim to Aaron and his sons in Parashat be-midbar (Num. 3:9) (which also happened to be Rav Lichtenstein’s bar mitzvah parashah), so was Rav Aharon completely dedicated to his family. See the video here (watch at about 11:40). And for a visual representation of just how central avodat Hashem was to Rav Lichtenstein’s core identity, see the photograph of his matsevah posted to Yeshivat Har Etzion’s Facebook page.
[40] From a forthcoming article to be published in Jewish Action.
[41] See his hespedhere(listen at about 10:30).
[42] See Rav Lichtenstein’s interview with Yaffi Spodek: “Reflecting on 50 Years of Torah Leadership,” the YUNews blog (October 11, 2011). Similarly, see this video produced in honor of Rav Lichtenstein receiving the Israel Prize in 2014 (watch at about 10:20), as well as the hespedim of Mrs. Esti Rosenberg here(listen at about 8:45) and Rabbi Baruch Gigi here (listen at about 16:30) and the former’s interview with Yair Sheleg, “Yaledah ahat mul 700 otobusim.” Finally, see Rav Lichtenstein’s sihahOn Raising Children,” where he states unequivocally: “There are very few people about whom it can […] genuinely be said that there is something objectively more important in their life than raising children.”

Reminder: Book Sale #2

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There are 24 hours left to the book sale. Please see this post for a link to the book list. A portion of the proceeds will be used to support the Seforim Blog.

Email inquiries to eliezerbrodt @ gmail.com

Running on the Inclined Plane of the Altar in the Second Temple

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Running on the Inclined Plane of the Altar in the Second Temple

by Chaim Katz
בראשונה ...  רצין ועולים בכבש, וכל הקודם את חברו לתוך ארבע אמות זכה
 We read in the Mishna:
[The priests used to compete for the honor of separating and removing ashes from the altar] by sprinting up the ramp. Whoever was the first to reach the top four cubits was entitled to remove the ashes.  Mishna Yoma 2:1

One of the first authorities to question the practice described in this mishna was Eliezer ben Samuel of Metz who lived in the 12th century. He was a Tosafist and a student of Rabbenu Tam. In his Sefer Yereim  (Negative 311), he compared the description given in this mishna with a conflicting description given in the Mekilta DeRabbi Yishmael: (Masechta d’bhodesh parsha 11):
  מה ת״ל אשר לא תגלה ערותך עליו שלא יפסיע פסיעה גסה אלא עקבבצד גודל וגודל בצד עקב
What do you learn from the verse “don't go up to my altar by stairs so that your nakedness isn't revealed near it” (Ex. 20:23) [1] - that one doesn’t take large strides when stepping up to the altar, rather heel-next-to-toe and toe-next-to-heel.

Apparently, the Mekilta DeRabbi Yishmael forbids not only running on the ramp, but even forbids regular, normal, walking on the ramp.

Another Tosafist, R. Moshe of Coucey (13th century) in his Tosafot Yeshanim on Yoma 22b re-raised the problem. Over the years and centuries, many others suggested ways of resolving this difficulty. [2]

A solution occurred to me based on the idea that maybe the priests who sprinted to the top of the ramp were acting improperly and not following the teaching of the sages. Our sources report a number of temple practices that were initiated by groups who followed their own teachings. For example: the practice of lighting incense outside the kodesh ha kedoshim on Yom Kippur (Yoma 19b), the practice of not offering the water libation on the altar on sukkot  (Yoma 26b), the practice of following a different calendar and bringing the omer offering on Sunday (Menahot 65). [3]

Although I don’t have a proof that the races on the ramp were improper, the Talmud itself encourages this perception (Yoma 23a):

ת"ר מעשה בשני כהנים שהיו שניהן שוין ורצין ועולין בכבש קדם אחד מהן לתוך ארבע אמות של חבירו נטל סכין ותקע לו בלבו עמד רביצדוק על מעלות האולם ואמר אחינו בית ישראל שמעוגעו כל העם בבכיה בא אביו של תינוק ומצאו כשהוא מפרפר אמר הרי הוא כפרתכם ועדיין בנימפרפר ולא נטמאה סכין

We read in a baraita. It once happened that two priests were racing up the ramp … when  one got close to the other and stabbed him … R. Zadok stood on the steps of the temple and eulogized the slain priest: Listen my brothers the house of Israel ... All the people burst into tears. The father of the young priest had meanwhile found his slain son in his death throes, “The knife is still ritually clean”

The obvious contrast between the father who “cared more about the purity of the temple vessels than about the murder” and the people who were present listening to R. Zadok and weeping, demonstrates that the priest (the father) didn’t see himself as part of the community who was present in the temple nor did he share the priorities of the rabbis. [4]

If so, there really is nothing to reconcile: a priest is never allowed to run on the ramp. Historically, there was a time when the rabbis had little control over what the priests did. The Mishna is describing one of those times. However, when the circumstances changed and the rabbis had the opportunity, they stopped the racing and substituted the lottery in its place. [5]

Standing in Prayer

The Mekilta’s teaching is not quoted in the Babli, but is quoted in the Yerushalmi, albeit in a different context. We read in the Yerushalmi (Talmud Berakot 1:1):
זהו שעומד ומתפלל צריך להשוות את רגליו.  תרין אמורין רבי לוי ורבי סימון חד אמר כמלאכים וחד אמר ככהנים.  מאן דאמר ככהנים לא תעלה במעלות על מזבחי שהיו מהלכים עקב בצד גודל וגודל אצל עקב.  ומאן דאמר כמלאכים  ורגליהם רגל ישרה.
One who stands up to pray must hold his feet together. Two teachers: R. Levi and R. Simon. One of them says: like angels. The other one says: like priests. The one who refers to priests quotes:  “Don't go up to my altar by stairs” (Ex. 20:23).  They walked with heel-next-to-toe and toe-next-to-heel. The one who refers to angels quotes: “Their legs were as one straight leg” (Ez. 1:7)

It isn’t very clear how to visualize that the kohen walking on the ramp towards the altar, serves as a source and paradigm for the custom of standing with one’s feet together during the amidah prayer. Many commentaries therefore, found a practical difference between these two opinions: if we compare ourselves to angels, then we stand with our feet together and parallel to each other; however if we compare ourselves to priests, then we stand in prayer with one foot in front of the other. [6]

The Oxford manuscript of the Mekilta has a slightly different description of the way the priest walked up the ramp. Based on the manuscript and a careful reading of the rest of the passage in the standard editions, the comparison between walking on the ramp and standing with our feet together in prayer is much more straightforward: 
אלא גודל בצד עקב ועקב בצד עקב ועקב בצד גודל
Rather toe-next-to-heel and heel-next-to-heel and heel-next-to-toe
According to the manuscript, the priest stood with his feet together before taking every step. Instead of taking a full step (moving his heel about 20 inches) he took half steps (moving his heel about 10 inches each time). [7]
In addition, when the Mekilta teaches that the priest walked heel next to (בצד) toe,  it doesn't mean that he moved one foot completely ahead of the other, with the back of the heel of one foot touching or parallel to the top of the toe of the other foot. Rather the priest took even smaller steps so that the length of the big toe of one foot was “next to” or parallel to the heel and lower instep of his other foot. I experimented and found for me, at each step my heel only moved forward  about 6 inches.  At this pace the legs are hardly parted.
This is all to say that if you were present in the courtyard of the Israelites (about 50 feet away from the priest walking up the ramp), you would see the priest standing with his legs held together heel to heel 50% of the time (assuming all steps took an equal length of time). Even when he was “walking”, he moved his legs so slightly apart that he would appear to be standing still. The long robe he wore that reached down to his ankles also helped to conceal his movement. Picture the priest walking up the ramp as someone standing still on a slowly moving sidewalk or some similar example. He looks almost motionless, as he inches forward smoothly towards the top of the altar.  (I did a test on level ground.  Walking this way, it took me a little more than three minutes to cover about 32 cubits).
It’s likely that both amoraim in the Yerushalmi agree that we pray with feet held together parallel to each other. They each  cite a different pasuk, but they’re expressing the same idea.[8]
On the level of the aggadah, there may be a different lesson from each teaching. We’re fortunate to have R. Kook's aggadic interpretation on the meaning behind aligning one’s feet together in prayer like the angels: [9] 

המתפלל צריך שיכוין רגליו, שנאמר ורגליהם רגל ישרה. הרגלים משמשים פעולת ההליכה ופעולתהעמידה. לפעולת ההליכה עיקר שימושם הוא במה שהם נפרדים, בפעולת העמידה עיקר שימושם הואבמה שהם מתאחדים. במהלך שלמות האדם יש הליכה, להוסיף לקנות שכליות ומעלות מדותיות. וישעמידה, היינו שהדברים שקנה יהי'קנינם חזק בנפשו, לא יפסידם איזה שינוי וגירעון במצבו... ובזההאדם מתדמה לפי יכולתו לשכלים העליונים, שקניני שלמותם חזקים במציאותם, בהיות ג"כ עיקרתעודתם לעמוד בשלימותם ולא להוסיף עליו.ובזה ג"כ נכללת השתדלות האדם בתפילה שתהיינה מעלותיו קנויות אצלו ומוטבעות

Legs are used for walking and standing. In the activity of walking, the legs' usefulness consists in their being parted; in standing, in being held together. To advance towards perfection, to progress in virtuous conduct and intelligence, man must move. To entrench in his personality what he has already acquired, man must stand still. He must not allow any change for the worse in his circumstances to let him lose what he possesses...Torah is essentially designed to increase man's perfection and exaltation. It is referred to as 'a path'... Tefillah impresses virtues already acquired making them stable and enduring. Here man is likened, to the extent that he is capable, to the supreme intelligences whose perfection is firmly ingrained in their selves - their intrinsic function being to preserve their perfection, not to add to it [10]

I’m not capable of extrapolating a similar lesson from the comparison with priests walking up the ramp. However, I feel that we have a enough  key words to associate the way the priests walk up to the altar with ideas like refinement, growth and free choice on one hand, and ideas like slow change on the other.  With this in mind we can at least get a fuzzy feeling for the difference between standing with our feet together in prayer like angels and standing with our feet together like priests walking up the ramp.
__________________________________________________
[1] I notice that in some humashim the pasuk is numbered 22 instead of 23. I was looking in some modern editions of Moreh Nebukhim, and saw two editions that reference this pasuk as 26 (following non-Jewish chapter and verse (?)).
[2] The common approach to synchronizing the two taanaitic sources is a compromise.  Kohanim may run or walk quickly on the ramp but must take smaller than normal strides. Another approach claims that the mekilta’s opinion is rejected and priests may run normally on the ramp.  Some present an opposite view and understand the mishna as a description of priests running towards the ramp, but not running on the ramp. And some interpret the mekilta to be talking about the altar itself – the kohanim may run on the ramp but may not take big strides when walking on the top of the altar.  I’m sure there are more solutions.
[3] Racing or competing seems very Hellenistic. Megillat Taanit lists a number of semi-holidays that were established when the rabbis prevailed over the temple priests. 
[4] Maybe this obsession with purity in the temple identifies these priests as Sadducees as in the Mishna Para 3:6 “they would touch the kohen who was about to prepare the ashes of the red heifer because the Sadducees believed…”. But even if the priests weren’t Sadducees or Boethusians, they might still have been ignorant of the teaching of the Rabbis. The Mishna mentions high-priests who were illiterate. The Sifra mentions priests who had to rely on the sages to tell them if a leprous mark was clean or unclean.
[5] The Talmud explains that running up the ramp was discontinued because it was too dangerous. It doesn’t say that the race was improper on unlawful.  However, R. Saul Lieberman discusses something similar in Hellenism in Jewish Palestine page 139 in the chapter about The Three Abrogations of Johanan the High Priest. He writes that “the Rabbis were sometimes reluctant to reveal the reasons which moved them to enact a new law. Moreover, in order to make the people accept a new ordinance the Rabbis occasionally substituted some formal legalistic grounds for the real motive.” He’s speaking there, (in one of the examples), about the knockers who stunned the animal by hitting it on the head before slaughtering it. The Talmud says the reason this practice was abolished, because it made the animal treif, but the Tosefta gives a different reason for abolishing the practice - because it mimicked what was done in the heathen temples. 
[6] One of the first to present this interpretation is the Talmidey Rabbenu Yona page 5a of the Rif on Berakhot . Many commentators of the Yerushalmi have given the same explanation.
[7] This variant is quoted in the Mekilta, Horowitz-Rabin edition, (end of Yitro) p. 245 (line 2) and is visible online here.   R. E.Z. Melamed in Essays in Talmudic Literature (Heb.)  Iyunim b’Sifrut HaTalmud) published in Jerusalem by Magnes press in 1986, (the original article was published in Tarbitz in 1935), demonstrates that the Oxford manuscript is much more accurate and authentic than the early print of the Mekilta that Horowitz reproduced as the main text of his edition. On the other hand, the two other manuscripts of the Mekilta, which are displayed on the web site mentioned above, are identical to the printed version with respect to this sentence.
According to the Oxford Mekilta manuscript the Kohen walked this way on the ramp: stand with your left foot ahead of your right foot. Take a small step forward with your right foot until your two feet are aligned.  Move your right foot forward again so that it is ahead of your left foot. Now move your left food forward until your two feet are aligned.  Move your left foot forward again. Note that you’re moving the same foot two times in a row.
[8] compare (for example): Zeiri of Dihavet said to Rabhina, “You derive that idea from that pasuk and we derive the same idea from this pasuk.” – Taanit 7b
[9] The Babli, Berakot 10b, has the comparison to angels but not the comparison to priests. R. Kook’s comment is printed in the Siddur Olat Ray"h , (in the anthology portion) just before the Amidah.  This section was probably taken from his Ayn Ay"h commentary on Babli Berakot #153. I don’t have access to the printed Ayn Ay”h. The online version (without the editor’s notes) is here.

[10] This paragraph is the work of Rabbi Leonard Oschry, in his English translation of Netiv Binah called Meditations on the Siddur by B.S. Jacobson, published by Sinai Publishing, Tel Aviv, Israel 1966. There is also an English translation of R. Kook’s explanation by Rabbi Chanan Morrison here.

An Honest Account of a Contemporary Jewish Publishing Odyssey

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In Your Anger, Please Mercifully Publish My Work:
An Honest Account of a Contemporary Jewish Publishing Odyssey
by Dovid Bashevkin[1]

My recently published sefer, “Berogez Racheim Tizkor” (trans: “In your anger, you shall remember to have mercy”), whose title is based on the verse in Habbakuk 3:2 and traditionally recited each morning during Tahanun, really began as a tweet. In March 2014, I tweeted, “Considering writing a sefer entitled “Aveiros K’Hilchisa.”




































The tweet was originally intended as a satire of the many seforim that have been published as halakhic digests of obscure practical issues in Judaism.  If there could be an Ittush be-Halakhah (trans: “Sneezing in Jewish Law,” - an actual pamphlet shown to me by my dear friend and devoted consigliere Reb Menachem Butler), why not an “Aveiros K’Hilchisa”?[2]

However, as often happens, what began as satire became a very real project.  Following the passing of my Zaide, Mr. William Bashevkin, and last living grandparent, I thought it would be a fitting tribute to their memory to publish a work of Torah.  Additionally, coupling sorrow with joy, my marriage this past year to Tova (née Flancbaum) gave me the inspiration to begin my relationship with a project of Torah scholarship.  The sefer, which is a small collection of essays discussing halakhic issues related to sin and the path towards teshuva, is based upon shiurim I have had the opportunity to deliver periodically at the Young Israel of Lawrence Cedarhurst.  With special appreciation to Mr. Joel Mael, who originally invited me and has been a continual source of guidance and counsel, the chevra who have participated in the shiurim are really my partners in this effort - without them, none of this would have been possible.

Nonetheless, publishing a sefer has historically, and remains, an exercise marked with rabbinic ambivalence. As I note in the pesicha many great rabbinic figures looked suspiciously at the growing trend of publication. The Chatam Sofer in his Responsa Orach Chaim #208 famously considered those who publish works for their own self-promotion to be in violation of the prohibition of writing down Torah sh’Baal Peh, which, in his view, was only permissible if the work was truly written with pure intention.[3]Indeed, in a different response (vol. 6, #61), The Chatam Sofer laments the overwhelming increase in seforim being published.

Why, then, publish a sefer?

This question, I believe, has added import in contemporary society when the inclination for self-promotion and aggrandizement has seemingly never been stronger. So, then, is the publication of a sefer just an exercise in intellectual, albeit spiritual, vanity? This question has been addressed by many, including on the pages on the Seforim blog, most notably by Yaakov Rosenes in his post “Publish and Perish or Digital Death” (link). What follows are my experiences and brief thoughts on the issue of seforim publication.

Firstly, as Rabbi Yaakov Levitz, a noted seforim distributor in Brooklyn, mentioned to me, the only thing that sells is “Soloveitchik, stories and pictures.”[4]No one should publish a sefer as a venture to make money. Aside from the questionable motive, it just won’t work. The only works that have a faint chance are those that will be purchased for Bar Mitzvah gifts. Other works that deal with more scholarly or intricate Talmudic issues will have a hard time even recouping the cost of publication.[5]

Financial investments aside, I published this work for three reasons:

Firstly, as I mentioned earlier, the sefer is dedicated to the memory of my grandparents and in honor of my marriage. Admittedly, these reasons are rather self-centered. I do, however, think they are relatively justifiable. While I grant that there are certainly less narcissistic ways of memorializing or honoring loved ones, I do think that sharing Torah, when possible, is appropriate. As Rabbi Hershel Schachter notes in the generous michtav bracha that he wrote to my sefer, the greatest honor one can accord their ancestors is sharing Torah. While the quality of the Torah may be questionable, I hope the honor it brings to their memory is just the same.

Secondly, throughout the sefer, the works of Reb Zadok of Lublin, who I had the opportunity to study under Professor Yaakov Elman at Yeshiva University’s Bernard Revel Graduate School of Jewish Studies, and those of Rav Yitzchok Hutner both feature prominently.[6]  I was first introduced to the works of Reb Zadok of Lublin by Rabbi Dr. Ari Bergmann of Lawrence, NY, and the door to Rav Yitzchok Hutner was kindly opened to me by Rabbi Ari Waxman of Yeshivat Shaalvim. Those familiar with these thinkers understand their relevance to the modern reader. Unfortunately, particularly Reb Zadok and the larger school of his rebbe, Rabbi Mordechai Leiner of Izbica, are often misunderstood and frequently misinterpreted.[7] My hope was to develop my own creative ideas within their school of thought, while still remaining loyal to the type of avodas hashem I think they hoped to engender. I don’t know if I was successful, but I hope the sefer continues to bring the much needed attention these thinkers deserve in contemporary times.

Lastly, the Kotzker Rebbe famously remarked, “All that is thought should not be said, all that is said should not be written, all that is written should not be published, and all that is published should not be read.”[8]Undoubtedly, not everything in this work, or nearly any work, should have been published. In some ways I am comforted by the saying of Reb Chaim Brisker that even one valuable chiddush within an otherwise subpar work, can redeem an entire sefer, as Rav Hershel Schachter observes in Nefesh Harav (1994), page 334. Parenthetically, in Rabbi Schachter’s introduction to his later work, Ginat Egoz (2006), he shared a wonderful anecdote that after mentioning the aforementioned saying of Reb Chaim during a shiur at Yeshivat Shaalvim, the Rosh Yeshiva approached him and (jokingly?) said that his entire shiur was worth hearing just because of that one story from Reb Chaim.

No one will like, enjoy, or appreciate everything in a sefer, but I think the one insight that illuminates, explains or inspires another makes the entire work worth it. And, as often happens in the course of writing, the one who is inspired is the author himself. Rav Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky, The Steipler Gaon, often advised writing personal Torah ideas as a means of cultivating a stronger relationship with Torah (for example, see his collected letters, Karyana de-Igarta #41). In fact, Yeshivat Chachmei Lublin had a special seder at the end of the day (at 10PM following a half-hour seder set to review the Rif) for students to write and develop their own chiddushei Torah.[9] We are willing to take risks in the pursuit of so many other goals, why not jeopardize our precision and flawlessness by sharing more published Torah? While I admire the Brisker allegiance to publishing perfection, I think many students have missed the opportunity to kindle an excitement for Torah in others and themselves by dwelling too much on their unworthiness in the endeavor. It only takes one chiddush or one idea to make it worthwhile.

I knowingly may sound a bit too optimistic and/or forgiving when it comes to seforim publication and am glad to be guilty of such. In fact, it is the theme of my sefer. As I mentioned the title, Berogez Racheim Tizkor is said during Tachanun. In Tachanun this line is followed by the verse in Tehillim 123:3 which begins “Ki Hu Yada Yitzreinu.” Together these verses form a meaningful plea - that though we invoke God’s anger, we request his mercy for God knows our inner nature. Much of the work elaborates on that request. Namely, how the limitations of our free-will relate to our shortfalls and failures. The work discusses the halakhic and theological implications of sin and the often inevitability of failure. The underlying message, I hope, is one of comfort and optimism.

Here are some of the topics discussed in the sefer:
The status of apostates in Jewish law and thought;
Do we always have the free will to avoid sin? And, assuming they do exist, is repentance required for such sins?;
What should you wear to a sin?;[10]
If spiritual struggle is redemptive, is it permissible to seek out situations of spiritual challenge?;
The desultory appearances of the mysterious personality “Geniva” in Tractate Gittin;
A contextual analysis of the Talmudic statement “A man doesn't stand on words of Torah unless he fails in them,” (Gittin 43a);
The halakhic import of granting someone forgiveness verbally, while internally still harboring internal resentment;
An analysis of issues surrounding the concept of Averah Lishmah in contemporary times;
Additionally, the sefer is book-ended by two essays related to Torah study in general, respectively considering the relationship between Blessings on the Study of Torah HaTorah and the Blessing of the Kohanim, and the role of Converts and Kohanim in the development of the Oral Law. Copies of Berogez Racheim Tizkor are available for purchase at Biegeleisen in Boro Park, and is currently available online here.
I hope Berogez Racheim Tizkor is read with the same measure of mercy which, especially nowadays, is required of any sefer to be written.




[1] David Bashevkin is the Director of Education at NCSY. He studied at Yeshivat Shaalvim, the Ner Israel Rabbinical College and at Yeshiva University, where he completed a Master’s degree in Polish Hassidut, focusing on the thought of Reb Zadok ha-Kohen of Lublin, under the guidance of Professor Yaakov Elman. He is currently pursuing a doctorate in Public Policy at the Milano School of International Affairs.
[2]Ittush be-Halakhah has previously been reviewed by David Assaf, “On Sneezing in Jewish Law,” Oneg Shabbes (1 July 2012), available here; and a mention in the infamous thirteenth footnote to Marc B. Shapiro, “Concerning the Zohar and Other Matters,” the Seforim blog (29 August 2012), available here.
[3] As I also note, this is in accordance with the more restrictive view of his Rebbe, R. Nathan Adler who understood that the prohibition of writing down the Oral Law was not completely abrogated and, in certain instances, remains in place even in contemporary time; see Sdei Chemed, ma’arechet 4, no. 22, for a longer halakhic discussion of his views. For an interesting parallel, see Ignaz Goldziher, “The Writing Down of the Hadith,” in Muslim Studies, vol. 2 (London: George Allen, 1971), 181-187.
[4] Rabbi Levitz’ most (in)famous sefer that he distributed was, of course, Rabbi Nathan Kamenetsky’s quite-celebrated and much-talked-about Making of a Godol in 2002. Though an improved edition of this work was published in 2004 -- with its “List of Improvements” detailed in volume two, pages 1427-1429 -- Rabbi Levitz was not the distributor for the second volume.
[5] In terms of the cost of publication there are two major expenditures: editing and printing. Editing costs vary. For some is just gentle linguistic touch-ups and proofing, for others the editor functions more as a ghost writer. I had the opportunity to work with a brilliant editor, Rabbi Avshalom Gershi, who has worked on some of the recent seforim of Rav Soloveitchik, most recently the first volume of his chiddushim on Gittin. Aside from his fair price, actually writing the sefer yourself is a major cost-cutting initiative I would urge thrifty authors to take. In terms of printing the price varies in terms of the amount of copies published, the length of the work, and the quality of the page and cover. Since my sefer is quite small and short and I eschewed editing that even bordered on ghostwriting my costs were well under five thousand dollars. For others who have larger works and print more than the industry minimum of five hundred copies, the costs can rise into the tens of thousands. Hence, the rapid rise in dedication pages.
[6] For Professor Elman’s articles on Reb Zadok ha-Kohen of Lublin written over the past three decades, see Yaakov Elman, “R. Zadok Hakohen on the History of Halakah,” Tradition 21:4 (Fall 1985): 1-26; Yaakov Elman, “Reb Zadok Hakohen of Lublin on Prophecy in the Halakhic Process,” Jewish Law Association Studies 1 (1985): 1-16; Yaakov Elman, “The History of Gentile Wisdom According to R. Zadok ha-Kohen of Lublin,” Journal of Jewish Thought & Philosophy 3:1 (1993): 153-187; Yaakov Elman, “Progressive Derash and Retrospective Peshat: Nonhalakhic Considerations in Talmud Torah,” in Shalom Carmy, ed., Modern Scholarship in the Study of Torah: Contributions and Limitations (Northvale, NJ: Jason Aronson, 1996), 227-87; and Yaakov Elman, “The Rebirth of Omnisignificant Biblical Exegesis in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries,” Jewish Studies Internet Journal 2 (2003): 199-249; and Yaakov Elman, “Autonomy and its Discontents: A Meditation on Pahad Yitshak,” Tradition 47:2 (Summer 2014): 7-40. For recent latest scholarship Rav Yitzchok Hutner, see Shlomo Kasirer, “Repentance in the Thought of R. Isaac Hutner,” (PhD dissertation, Bar-Ilan University, 2009; Hebrew).
On the occasion of the 110th yahrzeit of Reb Zadok ha-Kohen of Lublin zy”a five years ago, I published a 5,000 word essay in Dovid Bashevkin, “Perpetual Prophecy: An Intellectual Tribute to Reb Zadok ha-Kohen of Lublin on his 110th Yahrzeit,” (with an appendix entitled: “The World as a Book: Religious Polemic, Hasidei Ashkenaz, and the Thought of Reb Zadok,”),the Seforim blog (18 August 2010), available here.
[7] I will be elaborating on this theme in a forthcoming essay.
[8] On The Kotzker Rebbe’s proverbs, see Yaakov Levinger, “The Authentic Sayings of Rabbi Menahem Mendel of Kotzk,” Tarbiz 56:1 (1986): 109-135 (Hebrew); and Yaakov Levinger, “The Teachings of the Kotzker Rebbe According to his Grandson R. Samuel Bernstein of Sochotchow,” Tarbiz 55:4 (1986): 413-431 (Hebrew).
[9] See Dovid Abraham Mandelbaum, ed., Iggerot ve-Toledot Rabbeinu Maharam Shapira mi-Lublin (Bnei Brak, 2010), 125 (Hebrew), which reproduces in full the daily schedule from Yeshivas Chachmei Lublin. For an earlier scholarly essay, see Hillel Seidman, “Yeshiva Chachmei Lublin,” in Samuel K. Mirsky, ed., Mosedot Torah be-Europa: Jewish Institutions of Higher Learning in Europe (New York, 1956), 393-413 (Hebrew).
[10] This chapter is an expanded Hebrew version of Dovid Bashevkin, “What to Wear to a Sin,” Torah Musings (21 July 2013), available here.

Rabboni Jesus – Confirmation from the Talmud?

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Rabboni Jesus – Confirmation from the Talmud?
David M. Goldenberg*

The exchange one year ago between Pope Francis and Prime Minister Netanyahu over the language spoken by Jesus overshadowed any other news of the pope’s visit to Israel. The pope was right, of course, Jesus spoke Aramaic, not Hebrew, although Netanyahu could have offered a better rejoinder than his weak “But he knew Hebrew.” He could have said: “But he prayed in Hebrew.”

Among the proofs that Aramaic was the spoken language of Jesus’ time and place is the evidence of the New Testament, which no doubt informed the pope’s comment. Of the Aramaic words and phrases recorded in this text, perhaps the most cited is the word rabbouni (ραββουνι) or rabboni (ραββωνι), which is how Jesus is referred to by the blind man in Mark 10:51 and by Mary Magdalene in John 20:16. The text in John glosses the word by adding: “which means teacher.”

Years ago the spelling of this word caused confusion, since Jewish Aramaic and Hebrew texts traditionally vocalize the first letter with a ḥiriq (as in ribbono shel  'olam). But then the pataḥ vocalization was discovered in Palestinian Targum fragments from the geniza and in Targum Neofiti, as also in Samaritan Aramaic texts.  Some time later it was also found in Hebrew manuscripts.  Where the Mishna in Taanit 3.8 records oni ha-Maagal’s reference to God as ribbono shel 'olam, both MS Kaufmann and MS Parma vocalize the first word with pataḥ (Kaufmann as rabbuno; Parma as rabbono). Then geniza liturgical fragments of birkhot ha-shaḥar (Palestinian rite) turned up with the phrase רבון כל העולמים vocalized with a pataḥ under the resh.[1]

MSS Kaufmann and Parma have another point in common: as opposed to the printed editions of the Mishna, the original text of the manuscripts does not have the words של עולם; Kaufmann has them added above the line, and Parma in the margin (in both cases as clitics, written as one word). As scholars have noted, this indicates that the original was רבוני alone but a later hand added של עולם and extended the yod of רבוני (which is grammatically required and graphically obvious) to make it into a vav, thus producing עולם של רבונו.

The first person possessive suffix recalls the New Testament reference to Jesus as rabbouni /rabboni. In addition to the New Testament, the word with the first person suffix (‘my teacher’) is commonly found in several of the Aramaic texts mentioned above.  In regard to Hebrew texts, besides MSS Kaufmann and Parma, רבוני is commonly found in geniza manuscripts of Hebrew midrashic works. A search of the word on the Friedberg Genizah database (genizah.org) results in 23 hits of רבוני, all but one in Hebrew texts, and that figure does not even take into account cases where the reading is obvious but not certain and the search results did not therefore include it.[2]

An interesting example of רבוני in a Hebrew context is found in a reconstructed text of Bavli, Avoda Zara 17a. Here we find the story of R. Eliezer’s arrest for heresy. R. Eliezer, who lived in the second half of the first century and the beginning of the second century, explained his heresy to R. Akiva as follows (additions in curly brackets follow the uncensored Munich 95 and Paris 1337 manuscripts):
פעם אחת הייתי מהלך בשוק העליון של ציפורי ומצאתי אחד {מתלמידי יש"ו הנוצרי} ויעקב איש כפר סכניא שמו אמר לי כתוב בתורתכם (דברים כג) לא תביא אתנן זונה [וגו'] מהו לעשות הימנו בהכ"ס לכ"ג ולא אמרתי לו כלום אמר לי כך לימדני {יש"ו הנוצרי} (מיכה א) [כי] מאתנן זונה קבצה ועד אתנן זונה ישובו ממקום הטנופת באו למקום הטנופת ילכו. 
Translation: I was once walking in the upper market of Sepphoris when I came across one of the disciples of Jesus the Nazarene, Jacob of Kefar Sekhania by name, who said to me: “It is written in your Torah, You shall not bring the hire of a harlot . . . into the house of the Lord your  God (Deut. 23:19). May such money be used to build a toilet for the High Priest? I didn’t answer him. He said to me: “Thus Jesus the Nazarene taught me: For of the hire of a harlot has she gathered them and to the hire of a harlot shall they return (Micah 1:7) – They came from a place of filth, let them go to a place of filth.”
In place of אמר לי כך לימדני {יש"ו הנוצרי} [כי] מאתנן זונה קבצה...., the superior Marx-Abramson manuscript (JTS Rab 15) of Avoda Zara reads:  אמ'לי כך למדו ישו רבו כי מאתנן זונה קבצה .... with an inserted ש over the כ of כך, and a notation mark inserted above the line between רבו and כי, as seen below.


In the printed edition, as well as MSS Paris and Munich, R. Eliezer recounts the disciple’s comments in direct discourse: “He said to me: ‘It is written in your Torah ….’” and “He said to me: ‘Thus Jesus the Nazarene taught me/us ….’” MS JTS, however, presents the first phrase in direct discourse, but the second in indirect discourse, as indicated by the third person pronominal suffixes in למדו and רבו (“Thus Jesus his teacher taught him”). Thus,[3]

Ed.:                 אמר לי כך לימדני [כי] אמר לי כתוב בתורתכם /
Paris:               אמ'לי כתו'בתורת' / אמ'לי כך למדנו ישו הנוצרי כי
Munich:  א'לי כתו'בתורתכ' / א'לי כך למדני ישו הנוצרי כי
JTS:           אמ'לי כתוב כתורתכם / אמ'לי [ש]כך למדו ישו רבו כי

The change to indirect discourse was, no doubt, what caused the scribe to insert the ש above כך. But clearly direct discourse is called for as indicated by the preceding direct discourse in אמר לי כתוב in MS JTS, and in the lack of ש in ישו כך לימדני/למדנו אמר לי in the other witnesses. What would have caused the (confusing) change to indirect discourse in the MS JTS?  

The notation mark above the line between רבו and כי gives a clue. That mark points to a marginal notation. Such notations in this manuscript often refer to another reading of the indicated text. Unfortunately, whatever the scribe wrote in the left margin has been covered by a strip of paper glued to the page to strengthen it and prevent its separation from the codex. But I wouldn’t be surprised if the marginal comment presented the reading רבוני, like that found in the Kaufmann and Parma manuscripts of the Mishna Taanit.  Perhaps an indication that רבוני was the original reading is the directly following quote from Micah 1:7, which begins with the word כי (כי מאתנן זונה קבצה ועד אתנן זונה ישובו). The anomalous reading of  רבוin MS JTS may well have derived from an original רבוני, which became רבו כי due to the graphic similarity of kaf and nun, and the fact that the verse in Micah began with כי. Once רבוני became רבו כי, other changes were required to conform to the third person suffix of רבו and the resulting indirect discourse of the text, and so לימדני was changed to למדו and a ש was inserted to turn כך into שכך. The missing כי in the printed edition may also derive from this confusion.

If this reconstruction is correct, not only do we have another case of the Hebrew word רבון with a first person pronominal suffix (רבוני ), but the word is used to refer to Jesus just as it is in the New Testament. So in addition to the blind man and Mary Magdalene, we have another who called Jesus רבוני – Jacob of Kefar Sekhania, the disciple of Jesus, who taught R. Eliezer an interpretation of a biblical verse.

The Gospel of John glosses the word רבוני as ‘teacher.’ Shouldn’t the possessive suffix (רבוני) require a translation ‘my teacher,’ just as the Aramaic and Hebrew uses of the word clearly indicate a translation ‘my teacher’?[4] Not necessarily. A translation without the possessive would be similar to the term רבי/Rabbi, in which the suffix lost its possessive meaning (‘my’) and the word, as a frozen term, came to mean ‘teacher’ or ‘master.’ Support for this may be found, although from a later period, in Arabic literature. The Qur'an (5:47, 66) preserves the word رباني (rabbānī), which, as the Kisters (father and son) showed, derives from רבוני.[5] But the word cannot mean ‘my teacher’ because in the Qur'anic context it appears in the absolute plural: ربانيون (rabbānīyuna) i.e., ‘teachers.’ In other words, the final vowel in רבוני did not function as a pronominal suffix, as the Kisters noted. The word, rather, evolved as a frozen term from an original meaning ‘my teacher’ into the meaning ‘teacher,’ just as John glossed rabbouni as ‘teacher,’ and just as רבי evolved in meaning from ‘my teacher/master’ to ‘teacher/master’ (Rabbi), which, incidentally, is how John elsewhere (1:38) translates rabbi (ραββι). Y. Kutscher explained the word רבן (as in רבן גמליאל) the same way, comparing it with the French monsignor.[6] In the final analysis, not only was the pope right that Jesus spoke Aramaic, but the evidence of Jesus’ speech in the New Testament records precisely the pronunciation and meaning of the Aramaic of his time and place.

* See David M. Goldenberg's other articles on his website at http://sites.sas.upenn.edu/dmg2 or at https://upenn.academia.edu/DavidGoldenberg.



[1] See . Yalon in Leshonenu 24 (1960) 162; Y. Kutscher, “Leshon ḥazal,” in Sefer anok Yalon (Jerusalem, 1963), pp. 268-271 (reprinted in Kutscher, Meḥqarim be-Ivrit uve-Aramit, Jerusalem, 1977, pp. צה-צח); Z. Ben-ayyim. Ivrit we-Aramit nusaḥ Shomron 3.2 (Jerusalem, 1967), pp. 37-38. Targum Neofit references are in Michael Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic of the Byzantine Period (Ramat-Gan/Baltimore, 1990, 2003), s.v. רבון. In addition to the references in these articles, note that a Syriac version of the original Greek Transitus beatae Mariae virginis has Mary refer to Jesus as “Rabbuli, the messiah” which W. Wright takes as “Rabbuni, the messiah” (W. Wright, trans. and notes, Contributions to the Apocryphal Literature of the New Testament, collected and edited from Syriac Manuscripts in the British Museum, London, 1865), pp. 19, trans.; 28 text; 60 note.  The liturgical fragments: Naftali Wieder, “Ha-ṣura rabbun bi-mqorot Ivriim,” Leshonenu 27-28 (1963-64) 214-217.
[2] With two exceptions (a piyyu‹ and a medieval letter), all are midrashic texts.
[3] The readings from MSS Paris and Munich are taken fromשאול ליברמן  מאגר עדי הנוסח של התלמוד הבבלי ע"ש = Sol and Evelyn Henkind Talmud Text Databank.
[4] Of the 23 instances recorded in the Friedberg database, all but one are petitions to God as רבוני, usually made by Moses. One (T-S Misc. 36.198 2v, lines 14 and 16) parallel רבוני and מרי, ’my master.’ In Aramaic, e.g., Targum Neofiti translates אדוני אברהם in Gen. 24:27 as רבוני אברהם.
[5] M.Y. and Menaḥem Kister, “Al Yehudei Arav -- he'arot,” Tarbiẓ 48 (1979), pp. 233-234.
[6] Y. Kutscher, “Ha-Aramit shel ha-Shomronim,” in his Meḥqarim be-'Ivrit uve-Aramit, Jerusalem, 1977, pp. רסג-רסב.

"שוק באשה ערוה", לאיזה אבר התכוונו חז"ל?

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                                          "שוק באשה ערוה", לאיזה אבר התכוונו חז"ל?
                                                        מאת זאב וגנר

מאמר זה לקוח מהספר "אוצר רש"י" (בערך "שוק"), העומד לצאת בע"ה בקרוב והוא מילון אנציקלופדי המכיל כעשרת אלפים ערכים, הכוללים את הגדרותיו הלשוניות של רש"י במקרא ובתלמוד.

 הנושא הנידון הוא בירור מיקום אבר השוק באדם (שוק היא לשון נקבה, אך לא נקפיד בכך בהרצאת הדברים), כיצד נוצר הספק בדבר מיקומו וכן כיצד "מטפלים"במשנה ברורה "סורר"הפוסק שזה החלק העליון של הרגל בניגוד לדעת רוב שאר הפוסקים.

במילון אבן שושן מגדיר שוק "חלק הרגל הנמצא בין הברך ובין כף הרגל"וזו המשמעות המקובלת בשפה העברית המדוברת. לעומת זאת, בעולם התורני ישנה מחלוקת עתיקה בענין זה והיא, האם שוק הוא החלק התחתון של הרגל (וזו הדעה העיקרית)? או האם זה חלק הרגל העליון (הנקרא ירך בשפה המדוברת) הנמשך מהברך ועד המותן? עצם העובדה שיש בכלל מחלוקת הלכתית בענין אומר דרשני וכמדומה אין עוד שום אבר אחר באדם שיש לגביו ספק בדבר מיקומו (נסו לבקש מאנשים להצביע על שוקם ותווכחו).

ערב אחד שמעתי הרצאה מאחת הרבניות המרצות בעניני צניעות (שהוא הנושא החביב עליהן), ובין יתר הדברים אמרה את המשפט הבא: "ישנו אבר אחד באדם והוא השוק, שהוא  החלק התחתון של הרגל, מן הברך ועד הקרסול (שהוא העצם הבולט ברגל במקום חבור פסת הרגל אל השוק) שאין שום מחלוקת בדבר זהותו והנחשב ערוה לכל השיטות והדעות ולכן צריך לכסותו כדי שלא יראה אפילו במקצת.

קביעה זו שהשוק היא ערוה אכן נכונה, כיון שיש גמרא מפורשת האומרת זאת (בברכות כד ע"א וכפי שנרחיב להלן), אך בדבר המיקום, נראה שההפך הוא הנכון וזהו האבר היחיד שיש לגביו מחלוקת. רוב המפרשים והפוסקים אכן סוברים ששוק הוא החלק התחתון של הרגל, וכך ג"כ ניתן להבין מדברי המחבר בשו"ע יו"ד קצה ס"י: נחתך הולד במעיה (של היולדת) ויצא אבר אבר, בין שיצא על סדר האברים, כגון שיצא הרגל, ואחריה השוק ואחריה הירך... מכאן רואים בבירור שלדעת הבית יוסף סדר האיברים הוא שוק ומעליו ירך.

בפירוש הבועז (מבעל התפארת ישראל) לאהלות פ"א מ"ח אות י"ד מסביר שיש חילוק בדבר משמעות השוק בין לשון המקרא ללשון התלמוד וכותב כך: וכבר ידוע דלשון תורה לחוד ולשון חכמים לחוד, דהרי בלשון תורה שוק הניתן משלמים לכהן הן ב'עצמות ארוכות של יד הבהמה (כחולין קלב ע"ב), וכן בכל דוכתא שנזכר שם שוק בקרא בין ביד או ברגל משמעותו ב'העצמות העליונות שבכל אחד. אבל הכא הרי מוכח שהשוק הוא רק העצם הארוך התחתון של רגל למטה מהברך, עכ"ד.

כדי להבין במה מדובר ראוי לפרט את איברי הרגל באדם ובבהמה כפי שרגיל בפי הבריות. הרגל מתחברת לגוף האדם בכף הירך, החלק הארוך מתחתיו והנמשך עד הברך נקרא ירך. הברך (או פיקת הברך) מחברת בין הירך והשוק הנמשך מתחתיה  עד הקרסול ומשם מתחיל כף הרגל ולבסוף האצבעות. (ישנם עוד איברים אך הם אינם מעניננו). בבהמה לעומת זאת מבנה הרגל שונה. המקום בו מתחברת רגל הבהמה לגוף נקרא בוקא דאטמא שממנו יורדת הקולית (או הירך, שהוא האבר הארוך הראשון של הרגל הקרוב לגוף הבהמה) עד עצם הערקוב (שהוא מקביל לברך באדם), מהערקוב יורד השוק עד הערקום (וזה נחשב האבר השני או האמצעי), האבר המקביל לקרסול בבהמה הוא עצם האיסתווירא ומשם יורד עצם הרגל (המקביל לכף הרגל באדם והוא האבר השלישי) הנמשך עד הטלפים (שהם מקבילים לאצבעות כף הרגל).

כאשר נשווה בין מבנה רגל האדם לרגל הבהמה, ניתן מיד להבחין שלאדם יש שני איברים ארוכים עומדים המחוברים ע"י הברך, ואילו לבהמה יש שני איברים ארוכים עומדים ואחד הקצר יותר. מכאן נובע מקור הבעיה כאשר מנסים להשוות ביניהם, כיוון שהחלק השלישי בבהמה (הסמוך לקרקע) מקביל לכף הרגל באדם אלא שהוא מאונך בניגוד לכף הרגל באדם שהוא מאוזן ונראה כמעט בוודאות שזה שרש הבעיה מדוע מחליפים בין שוק לירך ולפי הסבר זה אין ספק שהשוק הוא החלק התחתון של רגל האדם.

לפני שאנו ניגשים לחלק היותר עסיסי של המאמר, נביא מספר מקורות הדנים במיקום השוק ולמי שאין בכך ענין יכול לדלג על הדברים. המקור לכך ששוק באשה ערוה הוא בברכות כד ע"א ולמדים זאת בגמרא מהפסוק בישע'מז ב-ג "חשפי שבל גלי שוק עברי נהרות תגל ערותך גם תראה חרפתך". תלמיד רש"י, המהר"י קרא מפרש על אתר: שוק - הוא הירך העליון וכך ג"כ מבאר בשו"ת בני בנים (יהודה הרצל הנקין) ח"ד סימן ט'. מפירושי רש"י השונים, וביחוד לפי המובא בערך איסתוירא (מנחות לג ע"א ) שהוא מקום חיבור השוק וכף הרגל, נראה לכאורה שהוא סובר ששוק הוא החלק התחתון של רגל האדם וכן נראה מסנה'צו ע"ב ד"ה גלי - תגלי (אצ"ל תגלו) קלעי ראשיכם ושוקיכם ותלכו בגלות. נראה שמדובר בגילוי החלק התחתון שכן לא מסתבר שיגלו את החלק מעל הברך שלכל הדעות הוא מקום ערוה.

בברכות סא ע"א מובא: כל העובר אחורי אשה בנהר אין לו חלק לעולם הבא, וברש"י ד"ה אחורי אשה בנהר - אחורי אשת איש, (כיון ש)מגבהת בגדיה מפני המים... וכן בב"ב נז ע"ב ד"ה לפי שאין דרכן... להתבזות - שצריכות לעמוד שם יחיפות לגלות שוק לעמוד בנהר. מהפסוקים האלה, המדברים בהרמת השמלה בשביל שלא תרטב, קשה להחליט האם מדובר בגילוי החלק התחתון או גם העליון.

בערובין ד ע"א, רש"י ד"ה ואינו מטמא באהל - שום עצם בלא בשר עד שיהא שם שדרה שלימה או גולגולת או רוב בנינו, שתי שוקיים וירך אחת. מכאן נראה שמדובר בחלק העליון, כיון שיותר מסתבר שהחלק החסר הוא היותר תחתון שברגל. באופן דומה מובא בבכורות מה ע"א ד"ה הואיל, ושם מפרש דשני שוקיים וירך אחד הוי רוב גובה הגוף, אך מתוס'יבמות קג ע"א ד"ה "מאן דמסגי"וברש"י ד"ה "על ליחתא"נראה שמדובר בחלק התחתון.

בספר שערים המצויינים בהלכה (מגילה יד ע"ב ד"ה שגילתה שוקה), מציין לתשובות הרדב"ז (סוף חלק ז', תקנות עגונות סימן כ"ט) הדן בקושיית התוס' (שם ד"ה שגלתה) היאך גילתה אביגיל את שוקה (כמובא בש"א כה כ) והלך דוד לאורה ג'פרסאות? ומפרש שהיא לא גילתה שוקה (מעצמה), אלא בזמן שהיתה יורדת בסתר ההר נשב הרוח ונתגלה שוקה והיא לא ידעה מזה... ואפשר שצ"ל "שנתגלה"מעצמו. עכ"ל. לסיכום, עדיין לא ברור מעל לכל ספק מכל הנ"ל מהו השוק, כיון שיש צדדים לכאן ולכאן וכפי שמאריך החזון איש באו"ח סט"ז אות ח בענין השוק ומביא ראיות לכל צד ומסיים "דקשה להכריע בדבר" (אך בסידורים של הוצאת ארטסקרול באנגלית כן הכריעו בדבר ותרגמו את הפסוק בתהלים קמז י: "לא בשוקי האיש ירצה"במשמעות ירך (thigh) שבאנגלית משמעו החלק העליון של הרגל).

כאמור, השוק נחשב ערווה כפי שקובעת הגמרא ולכן וצריך לכסותו כדי שלא יראה, כדין כל אבר באשה הנחשב ערווה. לאותם פוסקים  (המ"ב ועוד) הסוברים שזהו החלק העליון מספיק שהשמלה תגיע עד קמצת מתחת לברך (ועוד קצת כדי שלא יתגלה בשעת הישיבה) והשאר אינו צריך כיסוי כלל. ולאותם פוסקים הסוברים שזה החלק התחתון (והיא דעת רוב הפוסקים), צריך ללבוש שמלה המגיעה עד הקרסול כדי שלא יראה טפח מהשוק (ולהיותר מחמירים כגון בגילוי השער אפילו טפח אסור יהיה לגלות) ועל אחת כמה וכמה שלא ניתן יהיה לראות את צורת השוק כפי שאסור הדבר בחלק הגוף העליון של האשה, כדי שלא יראה חיטוב האיברים.

כעת ניתן לגשת לעיקר הנושא והוא הבעיה ההלכתית שנוצרה עקב השינוי שחל בסגנון לבוש הנשים בדורות האחרונים. עד שנות העשרים של המאה הקודמת בעולם המערבי לבשו הנשים שמלות ארוכות עד הקרסול ומאז החלו הנשים אט אט לקצר את אורך השמלות. באותה עת החלה רוח הציונות לנשב ועמה רעיון שיבת א"י, רעיון שנתפס אליו נוער רב. נוער זה בניגוד לאופנה המשתנה לבש שמלות ארוכות. כידוע בעניני צניעות כולל מלבושי נשים המגמה היא להחמיר יותר ויותר, ואילו כאן למרבה הפלא החלו הנשים היהודיות לקצר את שמלותיהם ולא נשמע קול מחאה. ניתן להניח (וזו השערה בלבד ויתכן שישנן עוד סיבות שאיני מודע להם) שגורמים כלשהם עודדו תופעה זו כדי להרחיק מסימן ההיכר של הנוער הציוני. אפילו היום בבתי ספר היותר חרדיים ישנן תקנות  שאוסרות על התלמידות ללבוש חצאית או שמלה ארוכה ומזהירים את ההורים שישגיחו על לבוש בתם, כיון שכל בת שתתפס בלבוש כזה, אחת דתה להיזרק מבית הספר.

כאמור הנשים בלי יוצא מן הכלל לבשו שמלות ארוכות שהסתירו את כל הרגל, וכעת נוצר מצב הפוך, שהנשים החלו  לקצר את שמלותיהם (בגלל סיבה זו או אחרת תהיה אשר תהיה), וכעת ניתן לראות חלק מהשוק שחז"ל קוראים לו ערוה והעלול לגרום להרהורים ולבעיות אחרות בעניני צניעות שאין כאן המקום לפרטן ולמרבה הפלא לא נשמע קול מחאה. בשאלה זו דן בשו"ת אשר חנן (אפללו, חלק ו-ז אה"ע סימן פ"ח, וכן בחלק ח סימן קס"ב): האם אפשר לאשה ללכת מחוץ לביתה בשמלה ארוכה עד הקרסול, כיון שיש הסוברים שזה לבוש בלתי צנוע ורחובי? ועונה שאין שום מקור לכך, וכמו שאסור ללבוש חולצה הדוקה, אין היתר ללבוש גרב הדוק כדי לכסות את חלק הרגל התחתון. (וכך מובא ג"כ בספר אחותי כלה מאת ר'אברהם ארבל, תשס"ז עמ'קל"ט, בקונטרס באתי לגני סימן י"א, וראה עוד לקמן).

רוב הפוסקים כאמור הסיקו הלכה למעשה ששוק הוא החלק התחתון, אך למרבה הפלא, "הפוסק"שספרו נתקבל כספר היסוד של ההלכה בימינו, החפץ חיים בספרו משנה ברורה (סימן ע"ה סעיף א סק"ב) הולך בעקבות הפרי מגדים (משבצות זהב סימן ע"ה סק"א) הקובע ששוק זה מן הברך ולמעלה, (ולפעמים נקרא ירך) וכותב כך: "אבל פניה וידיה כפי המנהג שדרך להיות מגולה באותו מקום, בפרסות רגל עד השוק (והוא עד המקום שנקרא קני"א בלשון אשכנז)". כלומר מדברי המ"ב ברור מעל לכל ספק שסובר שהשוק הוא החלק העליון (מעל ה"קניא"שהוא ברך בלשון לעז). בשו"ת מגידות מהפמ"ג (שנדפס מכ"י בברוקלין תשע"ג ח"א סימן כ"ד וכן כ"ו), דן בענין ומסיים "וצריך עיון בכל זה".

דברי המ"ב הנ"ל גורמים מבוכה לאלה הנוטים להחמיר בעניני צניעות לבוש הנשים, ולכן מנסים להקהות ולטשטש את דבריו ונביא מספר דוגמאות. בספר הליכות בת ישראל (יצחק יעקב פוקס, ירושלים תשד"מ) פ"ד ס"ט סוף הערה כ"ח כותב: הרש"ז אויערבאך שליט"א "כתב לי"שמן הדין אפשר להקל לאשה הנמצאת בביתה במשך היום ואינה יוצאת לרחוב, שאינה חייבת לגרוב גרביים (גם בנוכחות אחרים), וכן שאשה בשעת נידתה אינה צריכה לגרוב גרביים בפני בעלה... עיי"ש. לעומת זאת במהדורה האנגלית שיצאה שנה אח"כ עמ' 37, משמיט את רוב הדברים וכותב בקיצור: הגאון רש"ז אויערבאך "כותב" (ולא "כתב לי") שלפי הדין אשה אינה צריכה ללבוש גרביים בנוכחות בעלה... (דבר פשוט ומובן ומובן מאליו ולא קשור כלל לנושא המדובר). היוצא מדבריו שהדברים שכתב במהדורה העברית כנראה גררו תגובות שרצוי להשמיט דברים אלו, כיון שמעתה כל בנות ישראל יפסיקו לגרוב גרביונים.

בספר הלבוש כהלכתו (החסר כל פרט מזהה), פט"ו סימן א'מסרס ומשמיט את דברי המ"ב על מיקום השוק ומשלבם יחד עם דברי החיי אדם (הקובע ששוק הוא החלק התחתון), והרי לשונו בדיוק: כתב המשנה ברורה, כל גופה של אשה, מה שדרכה להיות מכוסה, נקרא ערוה. אבל פניה וידיה, במקום שאין דרכה להיות מכוסה, לא נקרא ערוה, כיון שרגילים בזה אין כאן הרהור, וכן פרסות רגליה במקום שהדרך לילך יחף, מותר. אבל זרועותיה ושוקה, אפילו רגילין בכך כדרך הפרוצות, אסור (משנה ברורה עה, ב חיי אדם ד, ב). במהדורה השביעית (טבת תשע"ה עמ' 131 הערה ז)  נוספה הארה ארוכה הדנה בנושא ובין השאר כותב המחבר עלום השם: ולגודל וחומר הקושיות (על המ"ב) נראה לומר שלפי המצב בדורו, שחלה הידרדרות בקיום התורה בכלל ובעניני הצניעות בפרט (כמבואר בספרו גדר עולם), לא רצה לכתוב בבירור אלא מה שאין בו שום צד היתר, והעתיק את שתי הדיעות במשפט אחד וסמך על המעיין שידקדק היטב בדבריו (ומסיים: הנלע"ד כתבתי). לפי דבריו, המ"ב הסתיר את כוונתו וסמך על בינתו של הלומד להבין את עומק דבריו, שהוא בעצם סובר שהשוק היא האבר התחתון. כלומר עשה את ספר המ"ב כספר קבלה שרק  יחידי סגולה יודעי סוד יכולים להבינו ולרדת לעומק דעתו (ומכאן תשובה לאלו השואלים האם החפץ חיים עסק בקבלה).

בספר בגדי תפארתך מר'י"א רוזנבוים (ביתר תשע"ד עמ' 23) מובאת דרך מקורית נוספת והיא שינוי סדר המילים במ"ב: פרסות הרגל עד השוק [ו(השוק) הוא עד מקום שנקרא קניא (ברך) בל"א] במקום שדרכן לילך יחף (ואז האזור שמפרסות הרגל עד השוק מגולה) מותר לקרות כנגדו (היינו כנגד האזור הנ"ל, אבל למעלה מכפות הרגלים חשיב שוק ואסור לגלותו או לקרות כנגדו, ואינו תלוי במנהג המקומות). כלומר הוא משכתב מחדש את דברי המ"ב (ולפי השיכתוב מסתבר שהמ"ב סובר שהשוק היא החלק התחתון) ואח"כ מסביר במפורש "שזה מה שבאמת הח"ח רצה לכתוב" (אך קרה מה שקרה ובאה יד המלאך ודחפה את ידו של הח"ח ובמקום לכתוב את הנ"ל כתב מה שכתב ואין להתייחס לדבריו). בדרך זו ניתן לשכתב את כל התורה כולה כי הלא אנו יודעים יותר מכותבי הדברים מה באמת היתה כוונתם.

בדרך גאונית דומה נוקט בקונטרס "שוקיו עמודי שש" (חש"מ, ירושלים תשע"ב) המסביר שהמ"ב בא להגן על כבודו של הפמ"ג, ולכן משנה את דבריו וכותב בצורה נסתרת (שרק בעלי סוד יכולים להבין) את כוונתו והיא שבאמת השוק הוא החלק התחתון. בקונטרס התנהגות בין אנשים לנשים עפ"י הלכה (ר'יוסף יצחק ראזענפעלד, מאנסי תשס"א) עמ'ע"ב כותב: "יש אומרים שדברי המ"ב האלו, לא הוא כתבם". גם זו שיטה מקורית ביותר. מהיום והלאה כל מה שלא נראה למאן דהוא בספר כלשהוא יכתוב בצידי הספר "לא הוא כתבם"ושלום על ישראל (ולקמן מובא סיפור משעשע בנושא לא הוא כתבם).

בספר הצניעות בהלכה מר'שמואל הלוי שישא מסביר שיש חוסר הבנה במבנה רגל האדם ביחס לרגל הבהמה ואם נשוה אותם נגלה שבשניהם השוק הוא החלק התחתון ומסביר שהפ"מ "טעה" (פשוטו כמשמעו) וחזר בו (בשו"ת מגידות) והמ"ב נגרר אחריו ולא ידע שהפ"מ חזר בו. יוצא מדבריו שגם הפמ"ג וגם המ"ב טעו ואין להם הבנה במבנה רגל הבהמה ורגל האדם (וכנראה אינו דורש את הפסוק בקהלת ג יט "ומותר האדם מן הבהמה, אין"). כלומר, לדבריו אין יותר בעיה לחלוק על הראשונים, אלא כל דבר שלא נראה למאן דהוא יכתוב שטעה המחבר כיון שלא ידע ונפטרה הבעיה.

בירחון ישורון (גליון ל"א עמ'תתל"ד, מאמר "לדרכי פסיקת המ"ב והחזו"א") מר'יהושע ענבל, כותב שבנושא יסודי אחד מיקל המ"ב, והרבה פוסקים תמהו על קולתו, ומ"מ המנהג הוא כמו פשרה. לדעת המ"ב שוק הוא החלק העליון של הרגל, ואין לחלק התחתון דין ערוה. אמנם הוא תמוה... ולכן אנן פוסקים שצריך לכסות, אבל מקילים שהכיסוי (של חלק "התחתון"של השוק) יהיה ע"י גרב בצורת הרגל ובצבע הרגל... כלומר מדבריו יוצא הסבר מקורי ביותר, ששני חלקי הרגל נקראים שוק, אלא יש שוק עליון ושוק תחתון ואנו מקילים בשוק התחתון לגרוב גרביונים, כלומר הוא ביטל במחי יד את אבר הירך וקורא לו שוק עליון (ולדבריו נראה שמספיק שאורך השמלה תהיה עד הברך ותו לא).

מומלץ לכל אחד לעיין בספרים אלא ולא להסתמך על המובא כאן, לכולם יש מכנה אחד משותף והוא, שהם קובעים בצורה החלטית שהמ"ב והפ"מ טעו בצורה זו או אחרת בדבר מיקום השוק ולכן אין לקבל את דבריהם להלכה. כותב כך במפורש בספר אחותי כלה (ר'אברהם ארבל, תשס"ז עמ'קל"ח סימן יא) שאין שום ספק שהמ"ב טעה (ובלשונו: נדחה) וצריך לקיים מצוות לא תגורו מפני איש... ואין נושאים פנים בהלכה וכו', ובהמשך דבריו מביא את דברי ר'שלמה אבינר בספר גן נעול (בענין כח ההכרעה של המ"ב), המצטט את ר"ח גורדזינסקי בשו"ת אחיעזר, פרקי חיים תר"ע "לאחר שיביע הח"ח את דעתו, מצווים אנו לא לחלוק על דבריו כנאמר לא תחלוק על רב". וכן דברי ר'אלחנן וסרמן בתולדות הח"ח עמ'תע"ח "דברי הח"ח הם כדברי הראשונים שאין לאל ידי האחרונים ואפילו הגדולים לחלוק עליהם", ומסיים (א"א הנ"ל, שלמרות דבריהם, הוא) לא מאמין שיצאו דברים אלו מפי הגדולים הנ"ל, אלא תלמיד טועה כתבם... (ועיין באגרות משה מר'משה פיינשטיין, יו"ד ח"ג סימן קט"ו, בדבר ספר פירושי התורה לר'יהודה החסיד וספר "הציוני"על התורה, שמביאים דברים זרים ויש לאסרם... וע"ז עונה בשו"ת משנה הלכות מר'מנשה קליין, חי"ב סימן רי"ד שאינו מאמין שדברים אלו יצאו מפי הגרמ"פ, אלא נראה לפי עניות דעתו שאיזה תלמיד טועה כתב את התשובה והכניסה בין כתביו לאחר פטירתו... ולא ר"מ פיינשטיין כתבה).

אפילו נניח שיש במ"ב איזו שהיא שגגה או ט"ס, המ"ב חוזר על דבריו בסימן קכ"ח ס"ק ט"ז "בתי שוקים (מה שאנו קוראים מגפיים) - הוא מנעלים ארֻכים המגיעים עד ארכובות הרגל, היינו סמוך לשוק..."לא מסתבר שהמ"ב יחזור על אותה שגגה בדבר מיקום השוק פעמיים. במהדורת המ"ב עם הערות ביצחק יקרא מר'אביגדור הלוי נבנצל (ירושלים תשס"ד), בהשלמות בסוף ח"א כותב "שמעתי מאדמו"ר זללה"ה (הכוונה לר'שלמה זלמן אויערבאך שהיה פוסק הדור ורבו המובהק) להקל כמשנ"ב, אבל לא רצה להורות לקולא למי ששאל אותו" (ועיין באגרות משה אה"ע ח"ד סימן ק'אות ד).

דברים אלו (של א"א הנ"ל) חמורים ביותר ובעלי השלכות מרחיקות לכת. ראשית הוא כותב בהחלטיות שהמ"ב טועה ואין לערער בדבר. שנית, קובע שאיזה תלמיד טועה שם דברי שקר בפי האחיעזר ור'אלחנן וסרמן. א"כ לדבריו, איבדנו את אמונת החכמים ואת האמון בכל מה שמובא בספר כלשהוא, ויכול כל אחד לבנות במה לעצמו ולומר לא נראים הדברים, תלמיד טועה כתבם וכו'וכו', ועוד לפי מסקנת דבריו יוצא שמבטל במחי יד את כל נאמנות מסירת התורה שבכתב ובע"פ ועל זה נאמר "חכמים הזהרו בדבריכם".

ידוע במדע האקולוגיה שכאשר משנים דבר ידוע וקבוע עלולים להתקל בתוצאות בלתי רצויות וצפויות מראש. לדוגמא נהר הנילוס זרם במשך אלפי שנים וגרם לאדמת מצרים סביבותיו להיות פוריה ביותר בשל המשקעים שנשא עמו (כמובא בסוף ספר בראשית ותחילת ספר שמות). כאשר בנו את סכר אסואן, במטרה שתהיה אספקת מים סדירה, הוא חסם את המשקעים ופריון האדמה ירד בצורה חדה ועמו כמות היבול שהניבה ומעתה היו צריכים לספק זבלים לחקלאים דבר שהעלה את עלות הגידולים. באופן דומה, בשל הרצון להתרחק מהמלבוש הציוני והרחובי, שינו את לבוש הנשים שהיה נהוג במשך אלפי שנים, ועקב כך נוצר מצב שאבר שהיה תמיד מכוסה (ללא קשר שמו), כעת תמיד מגולה לשליש לחצי או לרביע. וכדי לחפות על הדבר, במקום לחזור למנהג המקורי של לבישת שמלות ארוכות דורשים מהנשים שילבשו גרביונים יותר ויותר עבים, דבר המאוד לא נוח ביחוד בימי הקיץ הלוהטים, ומסבירים להם זאת שזו מסירות הנפש שלהם (משהוא בדומה למסירות הנפש של הצפרדעים במצרים שקפצו לתנורים).

לסיכום נביא מקצת דברי שבח שנאמרו על המ"ב. בספר שיעורי משמר הלוי על מסכת ערכין, (משה מרדכי שולזינגר, ב"ב, תשע"ב עמ'רכ"ב) כותב: יש לדעת, אין כזה דבר טעות במ"ב... וסיפר שפעם נפגשה בת מבית יעקב עם בחור ישיבה, והבחור אמר לה שלפעמים מוצאים טעויות במ"ב. הלך אבי הבת אל הרב שך זצ"ל וסיפר לו דברים כהווייתן, נזדעזע מרן זצ"ל ואמר לו נחרצות, מיד תלך ותנתק את השידוך... כי לדבר כך זה גובל באפיקורסות.

במ"ב המבואר ברכת אשר מר'אפרים פאדאווער (ברוקלין, תש"ע) עמ' 62, כללי הפסק בנוגע להמ"ב והבה"ל כותב ששמע בע"פ מהגאון ר'חיים קנייבסקי... שאלתי את הגר"ח אם אמת הוא מה שאומרים שכשנדמה שיש סתירה בין דברי המ"ב במקום אחד לדבריו במקום אחר, שאפשר לתרץ ולומר שאחד מהם נכתב ע"י הח"ח בעצמו והאחר ע"י בנו או חתנו ושהם כתבו דינם ע"פ מקורות אחרים? והשיב לי רבינו שליט"א (ר"ח קנייבסקי) שאינו אמת כלל, ובשום אופן א"א לתרץ כן... והוסיף לי... שאף שאמת הוא שיש סימנים במ"ב שעיקרם נכתבו ע"י בנו או חתנו זצ"ל, מ"מ הח"ח עבר עליהם בעצמו והסכים עליהם. ונמצא שבסופו של דבר כל המ"ב יצא מתחת ידו של מרן הח"ח זצ"ל בעצמו...

בחוברת יחלק שלל, גליון ה'עמ'כ"ו סימן ד', מהליכותיו בתפילה של ר'הלל זקס מובא שנזף במי שאמר שהחפץ חיים היה בעצמו לא נוהג בכמה דברים להלכה כפי שכתב במ"ב... והקפיד על כך מאוד ואמר שזהו דבר שאסור לאומרו... ונסיים בדברי החזון אי"ש הידועים בקובץ אגרות ח"ב אגרת מ"א: סוף דבר ההוראה המקובלת מפי רבותינו אשר מפיהם אנו חיים, כמו הב"י ומ"א והמ"ב... היא הוראה מקוימת כמו מפי סנהדרין בלשכת הגזית...

The Netziv, Reading Newspapers on Shabbos in General & Censorship (Part Three)

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The Netziv, Reading Newspapers on Shabbos in General & Censorship (Part Three)
By Eliezer Brodt

This post is devoted to discussing comments received regarding parts one (here) and two (here).  I will also add in some of the material which I had forgotten to quote [some of which I was reminded of by readers] along with additional material that I have recently uncovered. From the outset, I would like to thank all those people who sent in comments regarding the post. My email address is eliezerbrodt@gmail.com; feel free to send comments.

Censorship

To begin, a few people commented in the comments section and others wrote to me disagreeing with Professor S. Stampfer's "rule" I quoted on the general topic of censorship: "Those who impose censorship presumably assume that they are wiser than the author whose text they wish to suppress".

In the case of the Netziv, in all of the issues I have mentioned in the past two articles and in the many others I hope to write about, I feel this rule is one hundred percent true. Is there ever a case that censorship is "permitted"? I am sure there is. I will leave all this to discussions about Marc Shapiro's new book. My concern here is, for example a sefer or other writings which the author himself printed in his own lifetime, quoted newspapers and never as far as we know wrote to take those quotes out. For us to tamper with the authors work that is wrong and thus I invoke Stampfer's maxim.

In general, on the subject of censorship which relates to educating children and more, it would be apropos to quote an important passage from the Netziv himself:

ואמרתם אלהם. כבר נתבאר בריש הספר לשון ואמרת אליהם שהוא הלכות המקובלות בפרשה, והנה לא מצינו בכל פרשיות שבתורה זה הלשון ואמרתם אליהם, רק דברו אל בני ישראל לאמר, שביאורו שגם אהרן ידבר אותו הפרשה בעל פה בזה הלשון שאמר משה, אבל ואמרתם אליהם, שהוא הלכות ומשניות אינו מן הצורך לכתוב שילמוד אהרן עם ישראל, שהרי כל המשניות ותורה שב"פ חובה על כל רב ללמוד עם תלמידיו, וא"כ למאי כתיב בזו הפרשה ואמרתם אליהם, אלא כלפי שקשה לדבר בעניני זיבה וקרי שהוא באברי הזרע שמתפעלים במחשבה, והיינו סבורים שיותר טוב למעט הדיבור והלמוד בהם, ורק משה הוא מוכרח ללמד לישראל הקבלות שיש לו בע"פ, שלא יאבדו מישראל, אבל אחר שכבר למדם שוב אין המצוה להגות בהם כמצות ת"ת שהמה למצוה אפילו בלי תועלת למעשה ולזכירה, מש"ה כתיב בפרשה זו ואמרתם אליהם, שגם אהרן ילמוד עם ישראל אחר שכבר למד משה בסדר המשנה כמנהגו, וה"ה כל רב לתלמידיו, ומשום שבאמת בלמוד התורה אין יוצא רע והיא אילת אהבים ויעלת חן. [העמק דבר, מצורע, טו:ב]

This passage would possibly also explain why in Volozhin, Moed Kotton was learnt even though it was not learned in some other Yeshivot.[1]

Relying on Berdyczewski & Bialik in Volozhin

Cyril Fotheringay-Phipps has a very valid comment when he wrote:

I find it odd that this blog post describes MYB’s article as “well  written and appears to be a very accurate portrayal of Volozhin” when the post goes on to quote RCB’s letter in which he writes about that same article that he “found it to be full of errors and mistakes”.

This touches upon a few issues.

In the letter I printed from manuscript R' Chaim Berlin it says:

במכתב גלוי [וב]מכתב חתום, שמתי עיני על מאמרו, "תולדות ישיבת עץ החיים"בהאסיף [שנ]ת תרמ"ז. ומצאתיו מלא טעויות ושגיאות. והנני סופר ומונה אותם, בפרט, [ב]גליון מיוחד, הרצוף הֵנה - כבקשתו.

A translation of this line would be that this article is full of errors and mistakes. However to be fair to Berdyczewski, we have this part of the letter- I printed it at the end of part two. In all there are only four corrections; even more importantly all those corrections relate to side issues - but nothing about daily life in the yeshiva, which is what I am "relying" on in my article.  I would hardly call that a faulty article. Of course it is possible that Berdyczewski did not print the whole letter, However at that time Berdyczewski was not "off the derech" and I doubt he would print publicly an article while R' Chaim Berlin was alive which could easily be printed elsewhere. [I am sure others will argue for the sake of arguing].

However in a footnote I wrote:

See S. Stampfer's Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century, (p. 159) who cites Bialik that everything Berdyczewski wrote in HaAsif about Haskalah was false. However this is a major issue with relying solely upon autobiographical information; each person is referring to the time he was in the Yeshivah and his experience.

Originally I was not planning on going into this topic, but as it relates to all this, I feel clarification is justified.

On Berdyczewski in Volozhin, a fellow student writes:

הוא הסופר העברי העתידי הד"ר מיכה יוסף ברדיצבסקי ז"ל. זה האברך הקטן הצנום, בידו האחת היה מחזיק את הגמרא, ובשניה הוא ומסלסל בפאותיו הקטנות, הולך וחושב מחשבותיו (בודאי מחשבות ומעשים שלו העתידים) [ישיבות ליטא, פרקי זכרונות, עמ' 124].

Shmuel Mirsky writes:

זכורני, כשמת מיכה יוסף ברדיצ'בסקי הספידוהו ד"ר הוגו ברגמן ור'אלתר דרויאנוב. הראשון דיבר על ברדיצ'בסקי שהיה חי בשני עולמות, והשני אמר שהוא הכירו בשני העולמות גם יחד, והוסיף שכשלמד בוולאזין היה יושב מעוטף בטלית ומוכתר בתפילין ולומד, ואעפי"כ הכיר בו הנצי"ב שהוא מעולם אחר, והוא צדק [מוסדות תורה באירופה, עמ' 61]

In a memoir written by a student of Volozhin we find that he writes about the article of Berdyczewski:

הנה התגלגל לידי האסיף לשנת התרמ"ז ובהחומר הנאסף שם במאמר מיוחד על ידי מר מיכה יוסף ברדיטשבסקי לתולדות ישיבת ולזין נאמר... החמר נאסף ממקרות ראשונים ומדויקים ויש לו ערך היסטורי שלם בלא שום פקפוק [ישיבות ליטא, פרקי זכרונות, עמ' 71].[2]

Bialik writes in a letter written while he was learning in Volozhin about Berdyczewski's essay:

וכל מה שכתוב ברדיטשבסקי להאסיף, לא מניה ולא מקצתיה... [אגרות חיים נחמן ביאליק, א, תרצח, עמ'כא-כב].

In an autobiographical essay Bialik writes a bit more:

תחלה לוולאזין ואח"כ לברלין. ולמה וואלאזין מפני שכפי השמועה לומדים שם בוואלאזין, יחד אם התלמוד גם שבע חכמות ושבעים לשון, בגליו או בסתר... תקותי לא באה. בוואלאזין אין זכר לשבע חכמות ולשבעים לשון, אבל יש שם בחורים כמוני, וטובים או רעים ממני, שיושבים ולמודים גמרא, גמרא, גמרא... [ספר ביאליק, תל-אביב תרצד, עמ' 80-81].

Menachem Zlotkin, another student of Volozhin writes about this essay:

 שכל אלו שכתבו על בניה הישיבה בוולוז'ין ונתנו לנו את תמונתם, התמונות והציורים האלה אינם אלא של חלק קטן מתלמידי הישיבה, של הבחורים והאברכים הידועים להם מקרוב, ולא של הרוב הגדול של תלמידי הישיבה. בכתיבת ציורים כאלה הצטיין ביחוד הסופר מיכה יוסף ברדיטשבסקי, שנתן בהאסיף, ובהכרם תמונות של תלמידי הישיבה, שלא התאימו כלל למה שהיו באמת כפי שכתב ביאליק מוולוז'ן... על פי הציורים האלה היה מקבל הקורא את הרושם כאילו היתה ישיבת וולוז'ין, באותה תקופה, משתלה של משכילים, וכל הבא לוולוז'ין התמשכל מיד ונעשה חכם בשבע חכמות. קריאת ציורים כאלה היתה בודאי גורמת צער לראשי הישיבה ולתלמידי הישיבה שהיו רחוקים מרחק רב מהשכלה ומלימודי חול, ולא באו לוולוז'ין אלא כדי להשתלם בלימוד התלמוד ולא יותר... [פרקי זכרונות, עמ' 183-184].

It appears from Zlotkin and Bialik that at least one aspect of Berdyczewski's essay was not correct.

I would venture to disagree, as anyone who learned in any particular Yeshivah and left and decides to follow up a few years later about life in said Yeshiva will usually find that some things change - different crowds bring different habits and the like. It's very possible when Berdyczewski was in Yeshiva, Haskalah was being learnt in Volozin and when Bialik got there, there was not.

 Furthermore another student of Volozhin who learned there at the same time as Bialik writes:

חדר הכרמלית שלהם נעשה רשות הרבים שבני הישיבה היו מצויים בו תמיד, מקום כינוס לתמימי דעים, בית ועד לאנשי שלומנו, מעין מרכז לעסקנות ולהשכלה. מכאן נשלחו בשם הישיבה מכתבי תנחומים למשפחות הנפטרים: רש"י פין צ"ה גרץ ול'פינסקר מכאן יצאה ההתעוררות לאסוף כסף בתוך הישיבה לתמיכתו של יעקב רייפמן לעת זקנתו, פה נאגדו אגודות למינוי על עתונים, ולהפצת ספרי אגורה של בן אביגדור שהתחילו להופיע בשנה ההיא. בכל יום ויום היו בחורים מתכנסים לשם, ודנים ומתוכחים על דברי קודש וחול, על עניני הישיבה ועל עניני האומה, על עניני הכלל ועל עניני הפרט. חומר לשיחות שימשו מאמרים ראשיים, ושאר מאמרים ודברי סופרים שבעתונים ובמאספים ובספרים... [פרקי זכרונות, עמ' 165]

Even more strange is Zlotkin in the aforementioned  account, a mere few pages later also mentions a few times (pp. 187-188)[3] that there was haskalah being learned in Bialik's time, so I am not sure what exactly the issue with Berdyczewski was - maybe it was he made it out to be even more.  As far as Haskalah being learned in Volzohin, there is no need to deal with it as it has been dealt with properly by Jacob J. Schacter in his frequently quoted article "Haskalah, Secular Studies and the Close of the Yeshiva in Volozhin in 1892", Torah u-Madda Journal 2 (1990), pp. 76-133 and S. Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century.

Bochurim knowing what went on in the Netziv's home

Cyril Fotheringay-Phipps wrote regarding a further issue:

I continue to disagree with your assumptions about what people knew or didn't know about what the Netziv did in his house. I don't think there was nothing to talk about in Volhozhin besides what the Netziv did, but even if there was, that wouldn’t apply to things that they wouldn't have a basis to know about and didn't impact them. And even if they did know certain things of this sort, that doesn’t mean that they were in a position to rule out the Netziv engaging in some activity if an insider claimed he had done so. (Especially since the MB was published decades after Volhozhin closed.)

First, here is an account of a fellow student of Volozhin who read the accounts of R' Epstein:

חבל מאד שגדולינו אדירי התורה והחכמה שקבלו חינוכם בישיבת וואלוזין לא העניקו לנו מזכרונתיהם על הישיבה הזאת, שבודאי ערכם רב לתולדות ישראל, ואלה החיים ב"ה אתנו, כדאי היה שיתקנו וימלאו את חובתם זו. עד היום לא נמצא איש שיאסף את כל החומר לתולדות ישיבת וולאוזין, אם כי אמנם חומר רב יש בספר הגאוני מקור ברוך לר'ברוך הלוי אפשטיין, גיסו וקרובו של הנצי"ב. אבל לא די החומר הזה, ואולי עוד יוסיף תת לנו החכם הנ"ל ספר מיוחד לתולדות הישיבה [ישיבות ליטא, פרקי זכרונות, עמ' 126]

As I have written in the past, relying on this work is a topic that much has been written about and perhaps I will return to one day.

However, in regard to what I wrote about the Bochurim watching every move of the Netziv, one talmid of Volozhin writes in his memoirs:

מנהגים קלים של כפרות ושל תשליך, שרבים מגדולי ישראל קוראים להם מנהגים של שטות, היו מדקדקים בהם בכל זאת כבחמורות, וקראו עבריין למי שעבר עליהם ולא נזהר בהם. ובולוז'ין העמידו התלמידים משמרות על בית הרב בערב יום הכיפורים ובראש השנה, כדי לאמת את השמועה שאין נוהגים בו מנהג של כפרות ושל תשליך... [פרקי זכרונות, עמ' 174].

It could be you (CFP) personally did not do so when you were in yeshivah, but from what I hear it's still done by many bochurim.

Why did the Netziv read newspapers?

Another commenter wrote:

What's the big deal if the Netziv read "newspapers" such as HaLevanon or HaMaggid? It's not like we're talking about The NY Post or The Seattle Times. I'd consider them to be closer to something like a blend of the Me'asef and The Jerusalem Report which, apparently, the Netziv didn't feel was a problem.

To be fair I did not say it’s a big deal if the Netziv read newspapers, merely that some appear to feel it was a big deal and decided to cover it up. This gives me an excuse to talk about the Netziv! I would also like to emphasize something I have not yet done. The Netziv was one of the greatest gedolim of the past 200 hundred years. In the future I will elaborate at length about this subject. One of the most impressive attributes that everyone who knew him writes about was his tremendous Hasmadah, how he did not waste any time. For over forty years, he ran the largest Yeshivah in Europe, dealing with most of its daily issues, traveling often to defend the Yeshivah and at the same time giving shiur a few times a week and a daily Chumash Shiur. He also penned dozens of letters daily, was a world renowned posek and wrote and published numerous works. All this, making him one of (if not the most) prolific litvish author(s). It bears noting his concluding remark he signed most of his letters with:
העמוס בעבודה.

One student relates:

אף בלכתו מביתו להישיבה שהיה מהלך של חמשים רגל, היה מחזיק בידו את התנ"ך הקטן, או המשניות בפורמאט קטן ומעיין בו [פרקי זכרונות, עמ' 125].[4]

Yet he found time to read and comment in newspapers. He obviously felt it was very important, as it gave him a window to the world which he needed to understand. His son R' Meir Bar Ilan writes:

קריאת העתונים היתה לו לא בילוי זמן, אלא כפי הנראה צורך פנימי להיות קרוב לכל מה שמתרחש בעולם הגדול. מטבעו לא היה זר לעולם, לכל דבר שאירע כל עוד לא מצא בזה סתירה לאהבת התורה [מוולוזין עד ירושלים, א, עמ' 138].

If one wishes to understand what newspapers were like in those days, one need go no further than to peruse the thousands of issues that are currently on-line. Perhaps at a later date I will elaborate on this subject, for now see Roni Beer Marx, Between Seclusion and Adaption; The Newspaper Halevanon and East European Orthodox Society's Facing Up to Modern Challenges,(Heb.)PhD. Dissertation, Hebrew University, 2011. After reading this dissertation, one can understand much more the types of newspapers, importance of newspapers and why the gedolim needed to read them.

To be clear, I never said these newspapers were similar to the NY Post or the like.

Did the Netziv read other parts of the Newspapers besides for the Torah sections?

Cyril Fotheringay-Phipps writes further:

Regarding the Netziv and RCB reading newspapers on Shabbos, it would appear that these newspapers contained a section of Torah writing and all examples of the Netziv referencing them apparently refer to those sections (unless I’ve missed something). It’s worth bearing this in mind before conjuring up images of the Netziv reading something like the NYT on Shabbos.

Once again I must disagree. It is clear that the Netziv read these newspapers cover to cover and not just the Torah sections. If one looks at the some of the articles the Netziv wrote in the Papers, collected in Igrot HaNetziv Me-Volozhin, one will see he comments on different things he read in different parts of the various papers.[5]

I would like to point to a few places in his work on Chumash that the information he is using is from the non-Torah parts of these papers. Many of these papers had sections dealing with science, nature and other worldly issues.[6] Of course, it is very possible that some of this information he could [or did] have gotten from other sources.

See for example the following passages[7]:

א. ויברא וגו'למינהם. הודיע הכתוב דאע"ג דבשעת מאמר הקב"ה. יצאו כמה מיני בריות במים ובעוף. מ"מ גם אח"כ הוסיף הקב"ה לברוא מאלו אשר יצאו כבר במאמר כמה מינים. כגון תרנגול שיצא במאמר ברא בו ה'כמה מינים באותו תכונה של תרנגול וכולם מין א'לענין הרכבה כידוע. וכן בכל הנזכרים בזה המקרא הוא כן [העמק דבר, בראשית א:כא]

ב. עפר מן האדמה. קיבץ מכל חלקי האדמה עפר מזה המקום מעט ומזה מעט. ולא ככל בהמה וחיה. וכדאי'בסנהדרין דל"ח א'אדם הראשון מכל העולם כולו והצבר עפרו. וטעמו של דבר שמשונה טבע האדם מכל בהמה וחיה שאינם יכולים לחיות אלא באקלים של כל בריה לפי טבעו. ובאותו אקלים הוא נוצר (וע'מ"ש להלן ו'י"ב) משא"כ האדם נוצר באופן שיהא יכול לחיות בכל העולם בין במקום היותר קר בין במקום שיותר חם וניזונים בכל אופן שהמקום גורם... [העמק דבר בראשית, ב:ז]

ג. והנה נשחתה כי השחית וגו'. הכי מיבעי וירא אלהים כי השחית כל בשר. אלא ה"פ שראה כי גם אדמת הארץ נשחתה מטבעה שהטביע הבורא ית'להספיק מזון לכל הברואים והנה אבדה כחה. ופי'הטעם משום שהשחית כל בשר את דרכו וטבעו. כי כל בריה יש לה טבע מיוחדת במזונותיה ואויר הראוי לה. וכך טבע האדמה אשר הם עליה וכמש"כ לעיל ב'ז'י"ט. אבל כאשר השחיתו בדור הלז כל המינין ע"י הרכבות זרות את טבעון ודרכן על הארץ ממילא נשחתה האדמה לפניהם. וע"ע מש"כ לעיל ה'כ"ט [העמק דבר, נח, ו:יב]

ד. וימח את כל היקום. נמחו הגופות ודייק הכתוב אשר על פני האדמה דוקא אלו שהיו מונחים על פני האדמה. אבל נשתיירו כמה גופות שנפל עליהם עפר הרבה ע"י שטף המים ונשארו הגופות קיימין. והן הנה עצמות שמוצאין חופרי ארץ ומוצאין עצמות מבריות שלא נמצא עתה בעולם. ומזה שפטו הרבה שהי'לפני בריאה זו עולם אחר ואז היו בריות אחרות... ומה שמוצאין בריות משונות הוא ממה שהרכיבו שני מינים שונים ונולד ע"י זה בריות משונות כמו הפרד היוצא מהרכבת סוס וגמל... [העמק דבר, נח, ז:כג]

ה. ובכה ובעמך ובכל עבדיך יעלו הצפרדעים. גם בהיותם בבתיך שמה יוסיפו לעלות. היינו שיולידו שם הרבה כמותם. וכדכתיב בתהלים (ק"ה) שרץ ארצם צפרדעים בחדרי מלכיהם. היינו בחדרי מלכיהם שרצו. וכאן כתיב ובעמך בשו"א היינו עם מיוחד שומרי ראש פרעה. ומש"ה כתיב בזה המקרא קודם לבכל עבדיך. משום דחשיבי יותר. וזה המכה היתירה לא שלטה בכל עמי פרעה אלא בו תחלה ובשומרי ראשו ובעבדיו המה שרי יועציו. והנה ידוע דעות שונות בין מפרשים ראשונים ז"ל אם היו הצפרדעים מין הידוע המשחית הנמצא עוד היום ביאור ונקרא (קראקאדיל) או הוא מין הנמצא ברובי הנהרות וצועקים ומכרכרים... [העמק דבר, וארא, ז:כט][8].

 ו. לא תקיפו וגו'ולא תשחית וגו'. מנהגם היה להשמר בשערות הראש והזקן כמו שעוד היום מנהג בני ישמעאל כך ומי שהוא איש המעלה משמר ביותר שלא יגע באיזה שערות הפאות והזקן לרעה... [העמק דבר, קדושים, יט: כז]

ז. את חקתי תשמורו. כפי'חז"ל ברבה ר"פ אם בחקתי חוקותי שחקקתי שמים וארץ. כך הפי'כאן כמבואר ברבה החקים שחקקתי עולמי בטבע כל אחד. והמערב מין בשא"מ ה"ז משחית טבעם כמש"כ ר"פ נח עה"פ את הארץ והנה נשחתה כי השחית כל בשר את דרכו עה"א. וכן לבישת שעטנז משחית סגולת חוטי צמר ופשתים וממה שהיה בפ"ע. והוא מסתרי הטבע וידועים לחכמי הטבע.... [העמק דבר, קדושים, יט:יט]

In the additions to the HD the Netziv adds to the last sentence:

שהקושר חוט שזור של צמר ופשתים יחד על חוט הברזל של הטעלעגראף מפסיק המשכת הדיבור שנדבר ממרחק, הרי הוא משנה טבע הברזל וחקי הטבע שבברזל, ומכ"מ אינו אסור...

ח. ושרט לנפש לא תתנו בבשרכם. מנהג האוה"ע לעשות הוספת צער למת שריטות על הבשר של אדם חי. וגם לעשות זכרון ע"י כתב קעקע שם המת. ומי שלא רצה לעשות על בשרו היה שוכר אדם אחר עני לעשות על בשרו ומשלם לו כמו שעוד היום הנהג שם לשכור מקוננות ומתופפות על הלב... [העמק דבר, קדושים, יט: כח]

ט. ונתנה הארץ יבולה. לא כתיב פריה כמו לעיל כ"ה י"ט. דפרי הארץ אחר עבודת הארץ אינו שכר מצוין שהרי כך דרך העולם אלא יבולה משמעו הולכה ממקום למקום כמש"כ לעיל בפי'יובל. ונכלל בזה פירות שאין באים ע"י הזריעה וגידול במקומו אלא ממציאים כחות הארץ מרחוק ומעומק עד שנעשו הפירות גדלים מהרגלן וכמו שידוע שיש לזה המצאות מאומנים במלאכת גידולי הארץ... [העמק דבר, בחוקתי, פרק כו:ד].

יא. הוא משל על אוהל אנשי יעקב. והנה משונה גידולי גנה לשדה. דשדה אינו נזרע אלא מין א'או שנים משא"כ זרעוני גינה המה רבים. מכ"מ כל גן יש בו מין א'שהוא העיקר אלא שסביביו נזרע עוד הרבה מינים מעט מעט... והיינו שהמשיל כל א'מאנשי יעקב כגנה שיש בה מין מיוחד ומכ"מ מלאה מינים רבים. אמנם גנה שאינה על הנהר ממהרת לשנות צורתה. ועלי ירקות נובלים מהר ונראים כמושים. אבל שעל הנהר בכל בוקר מתחדש ומתחזק ביופי גידול כל ירק... והנה כבר המשיל הכתוב בפרשת שופטים כי האדם עץ השדה אמנם יש ד'מיני עצים. א'הוא קוץ מונד אשר לא ביד יקחו שאין בהם תועלת. ולא נבראו אלא כדי להזיק לאחרים ולהיות כברזל ועץ חנית. היינו מזיקים בעצמם או משמשים למזיקים. או לשרוף אותם להחם בם בימי שבת היינו בעת מנוחה... ב'עץ האטד. שחסים בצל ענפיו ועליו וכדומה לו... ג'עץ פרי... אבל אין נהנים מגוף האילן בקיומו. ד'ארז שנהנים מגוף האילן בבנין וכדומה.... ויש ארז טוב לתורן עלי מים...[העמק דבר, בלק, כד:ו]

יב. יזל מים וגו'. אחר שהראהו הקב"ה שבחן של בניו. הראהו שבחי הדורות משעה שנכנסו לארץ עד ימי משיח שיבא ב"ב. ולא ראה ימי הרעה רק ימי הטובה כדי לנקר את עיניו ונגמר זה הענין בפעם הרביעית. ואמר על דור השופטים שהיה להם מלחמות וגלו הרבה בקרב אוה"ע. ואנו לא ידענו ועוד היום יש מקומות שנמצאים ישראל שאומרים שהן מזמן פילגש בגבעה...[9] [העמק דבר, בלק, כד:ז]

יג. וחכמים התרים את התבל מעידים שיש עוד היום במדבר סלע מוציא מים אלא שלא בשפע כ"כ... [העמק דבר, חקת,  כ: ח]

יד. כי תצא למלחמה על אויביך. בפרשה הקודמת למדנו שני אופני מלחמות. א'במלחמת תנופה שיוצאים במחנה מול מחנה. ובזה כתיב כי תצא למלחמה על אויבך וראית סוס וגו'. ב'שמצירים על עיר ובזה כתיב כי תצור על עיר. ומדכתיב כאן כי תצא למלחמה על אויבך. מבואר דמיירי באופן הראשון. ולא כמש"כ הראב"ע. מעתה יש להבין דלפי הנראה ענין פרשה זו שייך יותר במלחמת מצור על עיר מלאה אנשים ונשים וכשנפתחה והרי רואה אשה יפ"ת. משא"כ כשיוצאים במלחמה בשדה מה לנשים בשם. אבל כבר ביארנו בס'בראשית י"ד ט"ז שדרכם היה באוה"ע. בעת שיוצאים בחורים למלחמה יוצאות ג"כ נשים יפות מקושטות ועומדות לינשא. ומי בחור שמזדרז במלחמה ורוח גבורה נוססה בו. קופצות עליו נשים היפות. ועפ"י זה מתחרים הבחורים בעוז. והיינו דכתיב שמלת שביה. ומשמעות שמלה בכ"מ בגד חשוב כמו ושמת שמלותיך עליך. ומשום שהיו מתקשטות וכשלוקחים אותן בשביה נמצאות בקישוטן. משא"כ במלחמת מצור ואין הבחורים עושים מלחמה ודבר גבורה ומה להנשים להתקשט אז בשעת השבי [העמק דבר, כי תצא, כא:י]

More additions and comments related to part one:

Additions to note six about the Journal 'Ittur Sofrim'

Here are parts of the fourth part of the journal which was never published.

Addition to note ten:

About the Netziv's letters see; Mekor Baruch, 4, pp. 2000-2010.

Moshe Tzinovitz writes:

בקשר לכתיבת מכתביו יש לציין, כי בכל מכתב ומכתב היה כותב פרט מיוחד מפרשת השבוע, כשהוא מתאים תמיד לתוכנו המכתב ולאיש שאליו נערך המכתב [עץ חיים, עמ' 238].

Rabbi Chaim Berlin writes in his Hesped on the Netziv:

אבל תלמיד חכם יחיד בדורו... הרי שמו הולך מסוף העולם עד סופו, הוא השליט בכל דבר הוראה, בתשובותיו לכל אפסי ארץ... לכולם היה רב מובהק... [דרשות הנצי"ב, עמ'קמה].
לכתוב כל הלילה חידושי תורה ותשובות, ומכתבים לחזק הישיבה... וכמה מכתבים פיזר בענין ישוב ארץ ישראל... [דרשות הנצי"ב, עמ'קמו].[10]

 Rabbi Meir Bar Ilan writes:

בין עשרות המכתבים, ממש עשרות שאבא ז"ל היה כותב כמעט בכל יום בעצם ידו... היו רבים לא תשובות בדברי הלכה, גם לא בעניני הישיבה, אלא תשובות לשאלות בענינים מסויימים של כלל ישראל או בעניני הקהילה בערים שונות... לצערנו לא היה אז המנהג להעתיק את המכתבים, וכל אלפי המכתבים שהיו יכולים לשמש מקור לחקר החיים התרבותיים במשך שני דורות אבדו...

דעתו היתה שונה ממחשבותים של רוב רבנים... מדפסים שו"ת שלהם, וכמה מהם קנו שם בעולם רק על ידי התשובות. אבא ז"ל לא התייחס לזה בחיבה יתירה הוא היה אומר כשפונים בשאלה יש להשיב, ואם יש דברים שאינם פשוטים מן הראוי כמובן לברר את ההלכה על פי המקורות, אבל לעשות מתשובה או שאלה חיבר שלם עם ענפים או סניפים כמו שהיו מחברים גדולים ידועים נוהגים לעשות אז הרי זה קצת יותר מדי... דבר זה מוכיח, כי אין הכוונה להשיב על השאלה אלא לחבר ספרים ולהראות גדולה... נוסף לזה לא היה אבא ז"ל מחשיב הרבה כתיבת חיבורים והדפסתם רק לשם פירסום והיה אומר מה ערך יש לזה כשכל אחד יפרסם בדפוס כל מה שהוא כותב ומוצא חן בעיניו, הרי על זה נאמר עשות ספרים הרבה אין קץ... [מוולוז'ין עד ירושלים, א, עמ' 137-138][11].

Elsewhere Rabbi Meir Bar Ilan writes:



Addition for note 22: In regard to Chumash being learnt in Volozhin

Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner writes in his introduction to Nefesh Ha-Chaim about his father Reb Chaim Volozhiner:

לא הניח ידו מלהגיד לבני עירו אחר תפלת השחר פרשה מסדרא דשבוע יום יום. וכל הנכנסין לביהמ"ד יצאו מלא דבר כשאר כ"א קלט לפי דרכו. אוהבי הפשט קלטו עומק פשוטו במקרא. ודורשי הרשומים דרוש דרשו ממה שלקחה אזנם. מה שנזרקה מפיו מדי דברו בקצרה. וכל השומעים שמחו במתק שפתיו אשר ברור מללו כקורא הפרשה לפני תשב"ר.

A student of Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner writes:

ומדי דברי בה אזכור ימי נעורי ועד היום לא אשכח את רגשי העונג, עת אשר בכל יום ויום ראיתי אה הגאון הגדול הקדוש... הנעלה על כל בני דורו מו"ה יצחק זצל"ה מוואלאזין יורה לנו בבקר בבקר הפרשה חומש מפרשת השבוע עפ"י פשוטו של מקרא הממשיך את הלב, מי שלא ראה את פני הגאון הנ"ל אשר תואר פנים כפני מלאך אלקים, ומי שלא שמע מדברותיו המרעיפים כטל וכמטר לקחו לא יכול לצייר עונג הנפש ורחשי לב טהור שברא לנו אלקים... [המליץ, שנה יז, יום כג אדר, גליון ו, תרמ"א, עמ' 119].

Another talmid writes:

דרכו של הגאון מהרי"ץ הי'להתפלל ביום השבת בבהמ"ד של הקהל ואחר התפלה הי'מגיד פרשה אחת מן הסדר של יום והיו כל בני הישיבה הולכים לבהמ"ד לשמוע הדרוש [ר'אליהו לעווינזאהן, מכתב מאליהו, עמ' 47].

R' Simcha Edelman (father of the Marcheshes) writes:

נהירנא כד הוינא בר שיתסר למדתי בקיץ תקצז בישיבת וולאזין והרב הגאון האב"ד מ'יצחק ז"ל הגיד לפני התלמידים יום יום אחר תפלת השחר פרשה בתורה מסדר השבוע ושמעתי מפיו... [התירוש, ג, עמ' 155].

Additions to the sources in note 22 about the Netziv's Chumash shiur:

הוא זכה ללמד תורה ברבים בישיבת עץ החיים אשר באוואלאזין כיובל שנים והעמיד לאלפים בישראל ומורים, הוא הגיד יום יום אחר תפלת השחר, לפני בני הישיבה, פרשה בתורה ויפרשנה כדרכו בקדש, בהלך נפש בפשט ודרוש, עד להפליא... [הספד של תלמידו,[12] ר'ישראל בנימין פייוולזאהן, צרור החיים, ווארשא 1914, עמ'טו (= ר'זאב רבינר, מרן הרב קוק זצ"ל, עמ'רכה)].

יש אשר בבוקר לאחר התפלה, אך ישב הנצי"ב אל מקומו בראש השלחן והתחיל מבאר לתלמידי הישיבה את פרשת השבוע [פרקי זכרונות, עמ' 88].

הדבר הי'באחד הימים... אחר תפלת שחרית, ואחר שהגיד שעור פרשה חמש מסדר פרשיות השבוע, כדרכו יום יום, [מקור ברוך, ד, עמ' 1978].

ראש הישיבה הראשי היה הרב הגאון נפתלי צבי הירש בערלין ז"ל... ראש הישיבה הטיף פרשה מחומש בכל יום בבוקר אחרי תפילה... [יהושע ליב ראדוס, זכרונות, עמ' 65].

בעלות השחר קמתי... התפללתי בלי כונה, שמעתי את הפרשה של חומש מפי'הנצי"ב אשר הטיף כדרכו, בכל יום ויום לאחר התפלה, והדברים לא נכנסו לאזני... [מ'אייזנשטדט, הצפירה, תרע"ח, מספר 35].[13]

 In 1881 Rabbi Baruch Epstein wrote an article in Hamelitz about Volozhin, defending it from attacks in the newspapers [See Appendix one]. He describes the daily routine in Volozhin:

סדר היום והלמודים בשעה 8 בבוקר אחר תפילת שחרי, יורה הגרנצי"ב נ"י פרשה חומש מפרשת השבוע וכולל בה פשטי המקראות על פי יסודי טובי המבארים משולבים עם דברי חז"ל (וזה לא כביר הוציא לאור ביאורו הנאור עה"ת בשם 'העמק דבר'וראוהו חכמי ישראל בארצנו וחו"ל ויפזרו לו מלא חפנים תהלות ותשבחות וזה לא כביר הגיע לו מכתב תודה והלל מהד"ר א. א. הרכבי), עוד יוסיף דברי אהבה וחן, לטעת בלבות התלמידים מוסר ומדות והנהגות ישרות וצניעות בין אדם למקום ובין אדם לחבירו וחובות היהודי לעמו ולארצו ולמלכו, וירחיב דרושו עד ערך שעה ויותר..." [המליץ, יז, ב'אדר, תרמ"א (1881), גליון 3, עמ' 54[.

Another student who learned in Volozhin in the years 1873-1876 describes in his Yiddish Memoirs:

דער נציב פלעגט זאגען אלע טאג נאכ'ן דאוונען א פרשה חומש פון דער וואך. דער חומר איז אפגעדרוקט געווארען [תרגום: הנצי"ב היה רגיל לומר בכל יום לאחר התפילה פרשה בחומש מתוך פרשת השבוע. החומר נדפס] [אלכנסדר זיסקינד הורוויץ, זכרונות פון צוויי דורות, עמ' 226-227].

One more description of the Netziv's Chumash Shiur worth quoting, although not based on an eye witness account but rather interviews,[14] is from Fischel Schneersohn's classic work Chaim Gravitzer:

לאחר התפילה עמד ר'הירש לייב מעוטף בטלית ותפילין, וכמנהגו בכל יום אמר פרשה של חומש מן הסדרה של השבוע. ואותה שעה נדלק בעיניו הניצוץ הקסום, המתחדש בכל רגע ורגע, ובקלסתר פניו מאירה בת צחוק של איש מלהב בעמלו ואינו מתייגע אלא מתבסם וההולך ביגיעתו, יגיעת הקודש וכלל שהוא נלהב ומשוקע, כן יישא ביתר עוז ויתר שלווה ובטחה בעול עמלו המושך כל כך את הלב. הפרשה של החומש נמשכת כמחצית השעה... [חיים גראביצר, עמ' 377].

Rabbi Chaim Berlin writes in his Hesped on the Netziv:

אבל תלמיד חכם יחיד בדורו... הרי שמו הולך מסוף העולם עד סופו, הוא השליט בכל דבר הוראה, בתשובותיו לכל אפסי ארץ... לכולם היה רב מובהק וכולם היו תלמידיו... ואף מי שלא היה שמה הלא קבל תורה מספריו... וזה מהעמק דבר... [דרשות הנצי"ב, עמ'קמה].

Addition to the end of note 22: I wrote in part one: "In Pirkei Zichronot [p.84] we find a claim from Shmuel Zitron that R. Yehoshua Levin gave a chumash shiur using Mendelsohn's Biur. However, S. Stampfer [ibid, p. 68] already notes that Zitron's memoirs are not always accurate."
Add to this: Max Lilienthal records in his memoirs about his visit to Yeshivat Volozhin his discussion with Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner where Reb Itzeleh told him the following:
We have prayers in the morning… After the Service I explain to them some chapters of the Sidrah of the week and the Haphtarah with the commentary of Rashi, adding some free explanations of my own, into which I interweave some remarks from the commentary of Moshe Dessau (Mendelssohn) [David Philipson, Max Lilienthal, American Rabbi Life and Writings, New York 1915, p. 348]. [Thanks to Zevi Fried, for sending me this reference].

 However it's worth stressing that while many of the parts of Lilienthal's account appear to be true, not all of them are.[15]
Another connection between Mendelssohn and Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner can be found in a Haskamah that Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner gave to a 1852 edition of the Biur. However it's pretty clear that Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner was required to do so by the government.[16]
There is, however, a connection between Mendelssohn's Biur and the Netziv. Dr. Nissim Eliakim in his work Haamek Davar la-Netziv, [Moreshet Yaakov 2003, pp. 45-48] notes a few places in the Netziv's writings where there are similarities.
Gil Perl comments on this (p. 175): "As of a result of a few striking similarities between the work of the Netziv and that of Moses Mendelsohn, Eliakim (45-48) perceptively states that "with great care I would guess that Mendelssohn's Biur did not escape the sight of the Netziv." Again, Netziv's commentary on Sifre furnishes the evidence which Eliakim lacks." Gil Perl points to two passages in the work on Sifre where the Biur is quoted.[17]



During the Volozhin Yeshiva's long existence, both the government and the Maskilim tried several times to close it down. One such instance was in 1858, when, amidst the dealings with the government, a document was written describing the curriculum of the Yeshiva. In the document it states that students were learning chumash with Rashi and the Biur.[18]
Addition to note 26: For more on the censorship and the new version of the Ha'amek Davar see hereherehere and here
Addition for note 28: the cite for what the Netziv wrote about the Newspaper Ha'Shachar to Dr. Eliyahu Harkavi should be:
 שנות דור ודור, א, עמ'קפד (= תולדות בית ה'בוואלאז'ין, עמ' 86-88; אגרות הנצי"ב, עמ'לב).

On the Reading of the Ha'Shachar in Volozhin see Pirkei Zichronot, p. 73; Shaul Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century, (p. 157); Jacob J. Schacter, Haskalah… p. 86.




















Appendix one:



Appendix two:

Appendix three:





[1]  See Pirkei Zichronot, p. 154. For sources on this see my Likutei Eliezer, p. 85 note 228. Add to that: R' Y. Avidah, Kos Shel Eliyahu, pp. 26-27; M. Breuer, Ohalei Torah, p. 506; R' Teichtel, Mishnat Zachir Al Hatorah, introduction, p. 11; R Yair Chaim Bachrach, Mekor Chaim, Introduction.
[2]  See also what Y. Rivkind writes:
מאיר ברלין איז ניט דער היסטאריקער פון וואלאזינער ישיבה... נאך מעהר, די תקופה, די לעצטע, וואס מאיר ברלין באשרייבט, פון דער גרויסער שרפה... איז מעהר אדער וועניגער באשריבען געווארען. האט דאף עפעס אין דער תקופה געלערענט אין וואלאזין די גרויסע ווארט-פיהרער און ליטעראטורמיסטער פון אונזער דור, בערדיטשעווסקי, דרויאנאוו, יהואש, ליעסין, ביאליק און פיל פיפ אנדערע. איבערהויפט האט בערדיטשעווסקי אין זיין לערן-צייט פיל געשריבען איבער דער ישיבה און איהרע פראבלעמען און פון איהר אינערליכען לעבען (אין הכרם, המליץ און האסיף)...

 תרגום חפשי: עוד יותר, התקופה האחרונה, שמאיר ברלין כותב [עליה] - מהשריפה הגדולה בשנת 1886 עד לסגירת הישיבה ע"י הצאר הרוסי ב1892 - פחות או יותר נכתב אודותיה. הלא בתקופה זו למדו בוולוז'ין מנהיגי-הכתיבה ואמני-הספרות של דורנו, ברדיטשבסקי, דרוינוב, יהואש, ליעסין, ביאליק, והרבה אחרים. מעבר לכך, ברדיטשבסקי בתקופת כתיבתו כתב הרבה אודות הישיבה ובעיותיה וחייה הפנימיים. [די צוקוונפט, ז (1933), עמ' 670-671, וראה שם, עמ' 673].

[3]  Shaul Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century, p. 159 also makes a similar point. See also the introduction to Pirkei Zichronot, pp. 31-40. For more about Bialik in Volozhin, see Pirkei Zichronot, pp. 78, 157, 180, 182, 195. See also Menachem Zlotkin, 'HaChevrah HaChashayit Netzach Yisrael', Molad 5:27 (1950) pp. 181- 185; Rabbi Nosson Kamenetsky, Making of a Godol, vol. 1, pp. 445-446, vol. 2, p. 893, pp. 896-902.
[4]  See the letter of R' Gifter, Mili Di-Igrot, (2015), pp. 51-52.
[5]  See also the piece I quote in note 9.
[6] See Y. Shavit and Y. Reinharz, The Scientific G-d (heb.), 2011; Roni Beer Marx, Between Seclusion and Adaption; The Newspaper Halevanon and East European Orthodox Society's Facing Up to Modern Challenges,(Heb.)PhD. Dissertation, Hebrew University, 2011, pp. 116-205.
[7]  Gil Perl, The Pillar of Volozhin, pp 176-178, points to some of these pieces.
[8]  See Rabbi S. Gershuni, Hama'yan, 52:4 [202] (2012), p. 54 note, 21.
[9]  On this see Igrot HaNetziv Me-Volozhin, pp. 162-163 where he wrote  a letter to R' Yosef Charny, [author of Sefer Ha-Masot]:
לשמחת לבבי שמעה אזני כי רגלי מע"כ שיחי'מועדות ללכת שנית לקהלות דאגעסטאן... שע"י מעל'שיחי'נזכה לדעת משלום אחינו הנדחים שמה ולחקור ולהתחקות על מעשיהם והליכות עולמם... וכאשר ראיתי בעלי המגיד ושאר מכה"ע לב"י, שמו לב אני סגולה לדעת כמה פרטים אשר צמאה גם נפשי לדעתם. ואני הנני להוסיף שאלה איך היה סדר מנהגם בפתחי נדות? וכן.. סכין שחיטה...".
[10]  This is repeated in the various Hespedim that Reb Chaim gave on his father; see Drashos HaNetziv, p. 147, 148. The reason why Reb Chaim gave several Hespedim on his father can be found in Drashos HaNetziv, p. 153. 
[11]  About this work see Appendix three.
[12] On him, see: Moshe Tzinovitz, Etz Chaim, p. 409.
[13]  In Shimon Meller's recent book Rabon Shel Kol Bnei Hagoleh, on R' Chaim Soloveitchik, he quotes various passages from memoirs of Rabbi Menachem Tzvi Eisenstadt, (for example on pp. 286, 288,289, 306-308). This passage appears on p. 308. On page 289 Meller cites the source for this memoir, an article in the Newspaper Dos Vort. On page 288 and 306 he has pictures of Rabbi Menachem Tzvi Eisenstadt. However, I was unable to locate such a piece, nor could I find a Rabbi Menachem Tzvi Eisenstadt who learned in Volozhin. There was a Rabbi Menachem Tzvi Eisenstadt, who was close to R' Chaim but he was born in 1901, from whom a nice collection of his material was printed in 2003 called Minchat Tzvi. Obviously, he could not be writing memoirs about the Netziv. There was a R' Michal Eisenstadt, who was a close talmid of the Netziv and his comments on the Haemek Shealah were included inside. The Netziv even thanks him at the end of the introduction to his Haemek Shealah. But as far as I could locate, he never printed memoirs about Volozhin. His Torah novellea were collected and printed as Yad Malachi. [The Netziv also quotes him in his Hamek Davar, Vayirah [25:47], (Harchev Davar). There was a Moshe Elozer Eisenstadt who learned in Volzhin and wrote memoirs about Volozhin. These memoirs were translated from Russian and printed in Pirkei Zichronot (pp. 105-119). The passages which Meller printed did not appear in this chapter. After much searching eventually I found some other articles of Moshe Elozer Eisenstadt; one of them was this article in Ha-Zefirah (some were quoted by Stampfer but not this one). See Appendix two.

[14]  About this see:
בשמו של אברהם צארט קשור ביקורו של פר'פישל שניאורסון, שבא לוולוז'ין כדי לאסוף חומר לשם כתיבת הכרך השני של ספרו חיים גראוויצער המוקדש כולו לוולוז'ין [ספר וולוז'ין, עמ' 497].
Thanks to Shlomo Hoffman for this source. I will return to this book in one of the next parts of this series.
[15]  On this visit see: R' Dovid Soloveichik, Shiurei Rabbenu Meshulam Dovid HaLevi, (2014), pp. 566-569; R' Moshe Tzvi Neryeh, Pirkei Volozhin, pp. 28-30;  Jacob J. Schacter, "Haskalah, Secular Studies and the Close of the Yeshiva in Volozhin in 1892", Torah u-Madda Journal 2 (1990), p. 124-125; Shaul Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century, pp. 58-59; Moshe Tzinovitz, Etz Chaim, pp. 185-191; Rabbi Nosson Kamenetsky, Making of a Godol, 1, pp. 198-255.
Rabbi Moshe Shmuel Shapiro, R. Moshe Shmuel Vidoro, pp. 46-48 translated part of these memoirs of Lilienthal into Hebrew but not this passage. This was already noted by Jacob J. Schacter, ibid, p. 124 note 85. See Shevil Ha'zahav, pp. 8-9 about Rabbi Mordechai Eliasberg's meeting with Lilienthal. For a general account of the impact of Lilienthal's visit see Pauline Wengeroff, Memoirs of a Grandmother, 2010, pp. 174-186.
For more on Reb Itzeleh's shiurim, see: Rabbi Moshe Shmuel Shapiro, R. Moshe Shmuel Ve-doro, p. 41
On Reb Itzeleh Volozhiner, see: R' Moshe Tzvi Neryeh, Pirkei Volozhint, pp.26-36.
[16] See Berdyczewski's article about Volozhin in Volume three of HaAssif (1886), p. 240 where he mentions the haskamah. Interestingly enough, R' Chaim Berlin in his article in Beis Hamedrash (see part two), containing his corrections to Berdyczewski's article, does not comment about this.
See also see Pirkei Zichronot, p. 84; P. Sandler, Habiur Letorah, p. 180; see also Jacob J. Schacter, "Haskalah, Secular Studies and the Close of the Yeshiva in Volozhin in 1892", Torah u-Madda Journal 2 (1990), pp. 123-124; R' Eliach, HaGoan, 3, p. 1307.
[17]  See also Gil Perl, The Pillar of Volozhin, p. 37, 89.
[18] See S. Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century, p.195Toldot Beis Hashem B'Volozhin (p. 236) briefly mentions this "closing" but does not mention the curriculum.

Dorshei Yichudcha: A Portrait of Professor Elliot R. Wolfson

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Dorshei Yichudcha:
A Portrait of Professor Elliot R. Wolfson[1]
by Joey Rosenfeld
Joey Rosenfeld is a psychotherapist in St. Louis where he recently moved with his family. He recently published his first sefer, sc’hok d’yitzchak on the Kabbalistic theme butzina d’kardinusa, or darkened light. More of his writing can be found online at Residual Speech.

לאו כל מוחא סביל דא[2]

Tasked with the formidable project of recounting Franz Rosenzweig’s life, Emmanuel Levinas apologized in advance for speaking, as well, about Rosenzweig’s opus, The Star of Redemption. The reason for this, Levinas wrote, was not due to lack of distinction, rather it would be nearly impossible to separate the man from his work.[3] This sentiment can be applied equally to Elliot R. Wolfson and his vast oeuvre.Professor Wolfson’s breathtaking breadth of scholarship - starting from his Through a Speculum that Shines: Vision and Imagination in Medieval Jewish Mysticism[4]to his recent Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania[5] - can be said to touch upon every field within the Humanities, as well as significant areas within the Sciences. Trained in Philosophy and the field of Jewish Studies, with a focus on Jewish Mysticism, Wolfson’s erudition, astonishing at times, covers diverse fields such as Hermeneutics, Anthropology, Sociology, Bible, Literary Criticism, Gender Theory, Psychology and Psychoanalysis, Poetics, Neuroscience, and Comparative Religious studies.[6] While many authors share a similar output as that of Wolfson; ten books, four edited volumes, and tens of essays; few share the unique and apparent unity-of-thought that flows through his body of work. Whether it is an in-depth analysis of occularcentrism within Medieval Jewish mysticism, the dynamics of truth as refracted through the temporal presence of beginning-middle-end, or the Eros of poesies and the poesies of Eros in Jewish Mysticism and Philosophical hermeneutics, Wolfson’s presence as an author, delicately weaving together a tapestry of sources is felt through his texts. This presence, however, is present through its absence. Wolfson occludes himself through and within his texts, thus coloring each of his works with the dialectical dance of concealment and disclosure. Through a speculum of sources, culled from all arenas of thought - ranging from the thirteenth-century masters of Ecstatic Kabbalah to the current leaders of Haredi-Mysticism; from the annals of Greek Philosophy to the most current Hermeneutic- Phenomenologists - Wolfson speaks through and beyond the language of his sources.
Born on the 19th of Kislev,[7]a day pregnant with mystical significance within the Hasidic community of Chabad,[8] Elliot R. Wolfson was raised in a traditional Orthodox Jewish home. With an Orthodox rabbi as his father who was both a pulpit rabbi and a Rosh Yeshiva,[9] young Elliot Wolfson “was surrounded by Jewish textuality” and “was exposed as a teenager to the Hasidic works of Nachman of Bratslav and Chabad. And both of those sects were quite present physically in my environment, so it wasn’t just book study, but I interacted with Hasidim from both of these groups. And that was really my initial entry into kabbalah, or Jewish mysticism,” as he explained in a 2012 interview.[10] Beginning with the Tanya at age thirteen, Wolfson recalls his first experience with the texts of Breslov at a Tikkun Leil Shavuot at the age of fifteen. After that, he began attending classes of the well-known mashpiahof Breslov, Rabbi Zvi Aryeh Rosenfeld.[11] At sixteen, Wolfson began studying Rav Kook’s Orot ha-Kodesh, along with the various works of The Ramchal, including Kelach Pitchei Hokhmah, Derekh ha-Shem, and Da’at Tevunot, etc., and a year later, at age seventeen, he began studying the works of The Maharal.[12]
Wolfson spent three semesters at Yeshiva University, where he had the privilege of hearing Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, at his “public lectures, which were masterful in their philosophical exegesis of Jewish texts. Indeed, I would have to say that it was from Soloveitchik that I drew inspiration for the possibility of rendering traditional sources in a philosophical key,” remembered Wolfson.[13] After his time at Yeshiva University, Wolfson transferred to a program at the CUNY Graduate Center in conjunction with Queens College. It was there, under the tutelage of Professors Henry Wolz and Edith Wyschogrod that he first immersed himself in philosophical study. The relationship with Wyschogrod, whom Wolfson considers to be “one of my most important teachers,” opened up new vistas in the world of continental philosophy, and continued to bear fruits, even after her passing in 2009.[14] It was at CUNY Queens that Wolfson focused his studies to the fields of hermeneutics, phenomenology and existentialism; three registers of thought that would influence his subsequent foray into the field of Jewish mysticism.
After finishing his studies at CUNY Queens, Wolfson made the decision to pursue graduate studies at Brandeis University in the field of Jewish studies with a focus on Jewish mysticism. It was there, under the tutelage of Professors Alexander Altmann, Marvin Fox, and Michael Fishbane, that Wolfson completed his dissertation work on the thirteenth-century Spanish kabbalist Moses de Leon.[15] Regarding Wolfson’s dissertation, one can glean from the following anecdote the deep sense of hermeneutical secrecy already stirring. Wolfson recounts, “an episode that occurred in one of the doctoral qualifying exams. The topic was Perushei Ma’aseh Bere’shit and Perushei Ma’aseh Merkavah in twelfth- and thirteenth-century philosophic and kabbalistic literature. At the end of the exam Professor [Alexander] Altmann asked, “So Mr. Wolfson, what is the secret of the chariot according to Maimonides?” And I said, “The secret is that there is no secret,” and he clapped his hands as a sign of approval.”[16] His dissertation became his first published work, The Book of the Pomegranate: Moses de Leon’s Sefer ha-rimmon.[17] Upon the completion of his graduate work, Wolfson eventually joined the faculty at New York University’s Skirball Department of Hebrew and Judaic Studies in 1987, and was awarded the Judge Abraham Lieberman Professor of Hebrew Studies at New York University in 1993, where he served until early 2014, when he moved to California and currently serves as the Marsha and Jay Glazer professor of Jewish Studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara.
On a more personal note, I have been gifted the opportunity to form a close relationship with Professor Wolfson over the past few years. While he was still in New York, I had the chance to sit and learn on two separate occasions of which I would like to recall. Through the help of my dear friend, Menachem Butler, a meeting was set up in Professor Wolfson’s NYU office.[18] Having previously read numerous works of his, I was prepared to meet a removed and rightfully proud scholar. Entering into Professor Wolfson’s cramped office, I was immediately taken-aback by the sheer amount of books and seforim that lined the shelves, desk and window sills. What was most wonderful, however, was not the quantity of books, but the quality, the difference and the scope of the works scattering his office. On Wolfson’s desk one could find the most current in haredi kabbalah, Heideggerian studies, gender theory as well as recently published works of Hasidut and the students of The Vilna Gaon. These contradictory volumes were not organized by topic, rather they sat, interspersed, erasing the imaginary demarcations separating one stream of thought from its other.
Having prepared a ma’amar from Rav Yitzchak Hutner’s Pachad Yitzhak (Pesach 74) to study, we quickly descended into the textual landscape wherein I experienced, for the first time, the embodiment of what Rosenzweig called sprachdenken, or speech-thinking.[19] The text, in which Rav Hutner describes the constitutive lack within language, opened the door to the inherent gap between what Levinas refers to as the ‘saying’ and the ‘said’. The evasiveness of the perfect word, the impossibility of speech to say what it truly means to be saying, opened the conversation to various overlaps and influences that jumped out from the text before us. Unbeknownst to me, we had encountered one of the fundamental issues at play in Wolfson’s hermeneutics. What stands out most in my memory, however, is not the depth and fluidity of his thinking, but rather a seemingly insignificant incident that occurred during our learning. Having been asked to read the text, I stumbled with the reading of various words. These were not mistakes, in which the word could be misconstrued for a different out-of-context word; these were slight mispronunciations which in no way affected the meaning of the text. While reading, Wolfson, in his quiet and humble voice corrected my pronunciation to ensure that the word be read carefully and correctly. Only afterwards did I recognize the hyper-focus to detail that Professor Wolfson highlighted in his corrections. It is this insistence on the truth, the guardedness with which he approaches each and every text, which marks Wolfson’s works through and through. This attention, what Benjamin (quoting Malebranche) called “the natural prayer of the soul,” has enabled Wolfson to truly-read as he reads-truly.[20]
On another occasion, shortly before he left for the West Coast, I had the merit of accompanying Wolfson on his last pilgrimage to the gravesite of the late Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rav Menachem Mendel Schneerson, known as the ohel. Arriving at the ohel wherein lay the graves of the Rebbe and his predecessor Rav Yosef Yitzhak Schneerson,in what appeared to be a preparatory pause, Wolfson turned around and gazed at the graves of the holy women of Habad, Rebetzeins Chaya Mushka and  Shterna Sarah. Mid-gaze, Wolfson whispered, “She was the wife of the RaShab.” Those words are what I remember most. Uttered with a sense of melancholic yearning, I believe Wolfson was taken back to a space beyond memory, to a place where thinkers like Shalom Dov-Baer Schneerson walked the earth. After spending some time inside the ohel itself, Menachem and I left to give Professor Wolfson privacy with the giants who so deeply impacted his life’s work. Afterwards we sat down to learn a ma’amarfrom the RaShab,[21] chosen at random. Learning the text - which was written by the RaShab himself - we continuously came across the notation ve’chu, similar to “etc.,” signifying the absence of some extended textual statement. What bothered Professor Wolfson was that seemingly, everything that needed to be expressed was already written. There was no apparent reason for the text to end in the open-ended manner of ve’chu. As Wolfson later explained to me, “Usually this notation is used as an abbreviation so that one does not have to repeat the conclusion of a biblical verse or a rabbinic dictum. The author assumes that the reader can fill in the unstated text. But in the Habad context this notation refers to the inference that the reader must make from what is stated, not a marker of something previously stated.”[22]
Professor Wolfson’s impact on the field on Jewish studies cannot be overstated. In a practical sense, Wolfson has taught and mentored numerous students who have subsequently become significant scholars in the field of Jewish Mysticism.[23]Professor Daniel Abrams, an early Wolfson student, has noted the multifaceted significance of Wolfson’s scholarship as an, “approach to mythopoesis (that) explores such major topics as gender and ontology, entering into dialogue with studies and concepts from philosophy, religious studies (and comparative religions), theology and feminist theory… This history and the various text editions and major studies Wolfson has published in recent years have unfolded into a very complex matrix of methodologies which are unique to his writing and which build upon various disciplines to which few have sufficient access. From rabbinic and kabbalistic anthropology to the ontological and symbolic status of the feminine, Wolfson has shown the tacit assumptions that define the hermeneutic horizons of kabbalistic literature.”[24]
In addition, the various themes that mark Wolfson’s scholarship reverberate throughout much of the current literature and scholarship on Jewish mysticism. His constant presence at conferences and various publications testifies to the massive impact he has had in the field. On a more personal level, his vast contribution to the study of Jewish mysticism is twofold. One the one hand, Wolfson has consistently shown a continuous flow of thought, uninterrupted by the temporal fissures between one publication to the next. Indeed, as it will be shown below, one could posit certain ideas that seem to serve as the foundational stone, the even ha-shisiya, throughout all of Professor Wolfson’s scholarship. On the other hand, Wolfson manifests the true rabbinic ideal of creativity, or hiddush within each work, thus creating a stream-of-thought that is coincidental in its opposition as it is oppositional in its coincidence. Regarding the latter aspect of Wolfson’s thought, Professor Jonathan Garb makes note of “[t]he sheer scope of hiddush, of innovation, in theory, in comparative study and in textual analysis, eclipses any sense of continuity. One may say that there are two ideal types of scholars: One who unfold their earlier conceptions, even if in interesting and deep ways, and those who constantly create new domains, thus becoming one of the founders of discourse that Michel Foucault has both described and personified.”[25]In agreement with Garb’s perception of Wolfson’s capacity to unfold new creases within Jewish studies and beyond, I respectfully disagree with the notion that “the sheer scope of hiddush” diminishes, or “eclipses any sense of continuity.” Wolfson’s scholarship is marked by a unique form of radical hermeneutics which creates a repetition that is interrupted by the incessant sense of re-creation.[26]
This radical creativity, which includes the grafting together of disciplines ordinarily assumed to be separate and distinct, has- at times- been met with a sense of resistance from others in Wolfson’s field. In a more insidious sense, Professor Wolfson’s work in the field of Jewish mysticism has been met through non-meeting, or what seems to be a conscious repression of the often uncomfortable themes that Wolfson textually uncovers. Recognizing this phenomenon early on in Wolfson’s career, Professor Pinchas Giller wrote: “[t]he focus of Wolfson’s work presents challenges to the status qua of the field, and these challenges have not gone unremarked. In addition to challenging scholarly peers, Wolfson has also consistently rejected the glib, platitudinous understandings of Jewish mythology and symbolism prevalent in work written for popular audiences. This eschewing of cant and easy cliché is consistent with the restless searching spirit evident in his scholarship.”[27]
In addition to the challenges Wolfson has engaged other scholars in; his erudition in all areas of Jewish thought has also impacted the reception and engagement with his scholarship. As opposed to the static status many thinkers hold within their area of expertise, Wolfson has consistently crossed the artificial demarcations separating one area from another. Professor Wolfson is equally erudite in modern Hasidic thought - evidenced by his work Open Secret on Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson[28]- as he is in Zoharic scholarship as seen in his numerous articles devoted to questions of origin and the Zohar’s evocative mystical hermeneutics.[29] The dynamic ability to live, simultaneously, in the worlds of Maimonides[30] and Abraham Abulafia,[31] for example, has both elevated and alienated Wolfson from within the static walls of the academy, particularly in Israel. In this regard, Giller wrote: “Few scholars are so brazen as to speak authoritatively about more than one genre or time period. Wolfson seems to have violated the spirit of this social compact. The scope and volume of his writings have been viewed as evidence of a certain presumption, an ambition to rise to eminence without the sanction of Jerusalem.”[32]
Although the claim is authentic, namely, that Wolfson’s erudition stretches beyond the temporal limits of one time period or genre, the sense of “presumption” or academic arrogance is unfounded. Both in his scholarship and personal life, Wolfson exudes a certain lived-sense of humility.[33] The nullification of authorial-sense that allows Wolfson to speak through his sources as his sources speak through him is rooted in the modesty that marks both his life and his scholarship. As will be explained below, this modesty is deeply connected to Wolfson’s primary treatment of Jewish mysticism. The dialectic of concealment and disclosure, modesty and expression, reveals the chiasmic[34] sense of concealment as disclosure and disclosure as concealment. To reveal is to occlude that which cannot be disclosed, as concealment is to disclose that which must remain concealed. Wolfson’s work, far from being a “presumptuous” or arrogant expression of erudition, operates as a manifestation of modesty, secrecy and concealment that marks the nature of Jewish mysticism.
            Another critique aimed at Wolfson’s scholarship is the accusation of philosophical anachronism. The engagement of thinkers temporally removed from the time and space of early kabbalists has led some to claim that Wolfson’s work operates under a certain “obvious charge of anachronism.”  In this regard, Wolfson notes that the vast body of his work is contained in “The field of my vision, so to speak, has been leveled, to the degree that is possible, by a focus on kabbalistic sources ranging from the twelfth to the twenty-first centuries, a large temporal swatch by anyone’s account. The use of German and French philosophers primarily from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries to interpret texts of traditional kabbalah, whose ideas may be ancient but whose incipient articulation in a Hebrew idiom is to be traced to a rich creative period from the twelfth to fourteenth century, demands a defense against the obvious charge of anachronism.”[35]
Regarding this claim, it is appropriate to paraphrase a notion depicted by Reb Zadok HaKohen of Lublin, a nineteenth century Hasidic thinker, regarding the nature of the accusatory gaze.[36] Often when an accusation is leveled against a particular individual, it is assumed that the accusatory claim points to a character defect. Through an act of psychological inversion, however, R. Zadok posits that the accusation- far from pointing to a defect in character- points towards the uniqueness of that individual.[37]This may be applied to Professor Wolfson’s creative capacity of posing thinkers, vastly removed by time and space, in dialogue with one another. The weaving of new constellations between thinkers hitherto unassociated marks Wolfson’s work with polyphonic sprachdenken, or speech-thinking.[38]  In this sense, Wolfson has paved new clearings along the path of Jewish mysticism. The utilization of philosophers, poets and religious thinkers from separate domains has given Wolfson the opportunity of translating[39] ancient kabbalistic ideas into a modern academic idiom. Far from the self-serving act of philosophical name-dropping, Wolfson’s engagement with these thinkers is an essential aspect of his thought’s unfolding. Equally erudite in the fields of continental philosophy as he is in Jewish mysticism, the often astonishing ease with which Wolfson weaves through the intertextual landscapes creates a vortex in which the kabbalists speak through the philosophers as the philosophers speak through the kabbalists.
Among the various thinkers with whom Wolfson has engaged in the infinite conversation, a select few stand out as constant presences in his scholarship.
First and foremost, Martin Heidegger’s philosophy and poetics have served as a speculum through which Wolfson has peered, moving through and beyond the Heideggerian notions of ontology, temporality, language, poetics, eschatology and dialectics of concealment and disclosure. Deeply aware of the controversies surrounding Heidegger’s dishonorable past; Wolfson has engaged the German philosopher’s thought while simultaneously recognizing his personal, political and even philosophical failures.[40]Wolfson has even hinted to the possibility of Heidegger manifesting certain traits of the biblical nemesis of the Jewish people, Balaam.[41] Much like Balaam who blessed the Jewish people through his attempt to curse them, Heidegger’s thought has provided fertile ground for Jewish thinkers, even as he was engaged in an insidious form of anti-Semitism.[42]
 Emmanuel Levinas is another thinker with whom Wolfson engages in philosophical dialogue, often resulting in the appreciation and acceptance of certain Levinasian notions while concurrently moving beyond the limit of his ethical and ontological premises. Critical of Levinas’s rhetorical and absolute renunciation of Heidegger’s thought, Wolfson clears a middle path through which the demarcations separating Levinas and Heidegger are written under erasure.[43]
 Another philosophical muse of Wolfson’s is Jacques Derrida. The Jewish father of deconstruction marks the pages of Wolfson’s scholarship, as well as his personal philosophical stance. Derrida’s utilization of James Joyce’s enigmatic statement, “Jewgreek is Greekjew, extremes meet?”[44] has given Wolfson a predecessor in his chiasmic dance of exclusion as inclusion and distance as closeness.[45] Derrida’s discussions on language, writing, absence, and negative theology have deeply influenced Wolfson’s scholarship.[46]In particular, the notion of the Derridian differance, or trace - a presence that is present through absence as it is absent through presence- has played a significant role in Wolfson’s development of such topics as zimzum and secrecy that play a central role in the Jewish mystical tradition. Professor Wolfson has stated that the Derridian trace plays a key and central role throughout most of his philosophical hermeneutics.[47] In addition to the philosophical themes wherein these thinkers overlap, the sociopolitical critiques that Derrida has leveled against Western ontotheology have impacted Wolfson’s approach to the Jewish mystical tradition. 
The area in which this is most apparent is Wolfson’s claim that Jewish mystical texts and traditions operate within a closed, phallocentric system.[48] Echoing Derrida’s claim that Western thought has consistently worked within the economy of binary oppositions, while simultaneously privileging the masculine sense of presence and speech over the more feminized forms of absence and writing, Wolfson sees the Jewish mystical tradition as being a phallocentric discourse spoken through the mouths of male mystics. Wolfson has received much attention, not always positive, as a result of his stance.[49] Numerous scholars have attempted to take Wolfson to task, claiming that Jewish mysticism gives precedence to the feminine aspect of the Godhead, namely the shkina, and thus manifests a certain mystical feminism in which the patriarchal sense of privileging the masculine is overturned.[50] As Wolfson points out, the masculine in Jewish mystical texts represents the capacity to overflow, while the feminine reflects the passive capacity to receive. In this regard, Wolfson utilizes various thinkers within the French feminist movement, first and foremost the thought of the psychoanalyst and philosopher, Luce Irigaray, to elucidate his stance on gender-valence. Quite aware of the source material in which Jewish mystical texts apply an elevated, eschatological notion to the feminine, Wolfson has consistently pointed out that the inversion of hierarchal status is not equivalent to the undoing of essentialist and binary views of gender.  While the feminine may be elevated to its initial space of origin, in the spirit of the rabbinic dictum, “a woman of valor is the crown of her husband,” implying an overcoming of the diminution of the feminine vis-à-vis the masculine, the feminine is still endowed with masculine traits, thus maintaining the hierarchal status of gender even in its collapsing. While Wolfson is aware of the difficulty in accepting such an essentialist approach to gender performativity in the Jewish mystical tradition, he has stressed the need of critically analyzing texts through their anthropological and philological counterparts.[51] It is important to note, however, that while affirming the masculine-oriented nature of the tradition, Wolfson is by no means closing the text off beyond any redemptive stance.  In his later work,[52] Wolfson has shown that certain Jewish texts do clear a path through which the patriarchal, male-dominant notions inherent within the Jewish mystical tradition can be overcome. This eschatological advent of an undifferentiated state of non-duality, in which the feminine is no longer considered other, due to the fact that the masculine loses its privileged stance as the same, is rooted in the highest manifestation of the Divine-Plemora, namely Reisha-d’lo-ityada, or the unknown, or unknowable head. It is here, in this yet undefined state, not due to lack of definition, but rather inherently tied up in its own indefinability, that the promise of redemption lays.
In order to understand Wolfson’s concentration on the nature of the feminine, and the totalized system of Jewish mystical thought which appears to operate within a patriarchal framework, one needs to view his scholarly contributions through the lens of his personal and philosophical attitudes.  In this sense it is important to note the comments of Professor David Novak, in which he stated: “I have been trying to goad Elliot Wolfson, whom I consider to be the most philosophically interesting of today’s kabbalah scholars, into explicating kabbalah philosophically, that is, doing when speaking in the first person, because a philosopher has to speak in the first person. A philosopher has to say, “‘This is what I think is true.’ Wolfson’s explication of kabbalah is philosophical, but it has to be stated more clearly in his own voice, rather than in the voice or voices of his sources.”[53]
Although I categorically disagree with Novak’s claim that “a philosopher has to speak in the first person,” or that Wolfson’s thought need be “stated more clearly in his own voice,” the notion that Wolfson renders kabbalah in a philosophical key, as well as philosophy through a kabbalistic key is noteworthy. Throughout Wolfson’s writings, one senses a personal journey- perhaps even a wandering - through the labyrinthine pathways of text, context and pretext.[54]  Grafting together thinkers, divided by the fissures of temporal sway, Wolfson allows his “still small voice” to murmur beneath the magnificent edifices he erects. This voice, pregnant with a suffering unique to the mystical-hermeneutical quest, dances between the black and white fires that have become Wolfson’s plaything. The delicate balance between Wolfson’s personal, philosophical outlook and the scholarly body-of-text creates a third, wholly new path within the field of Jewish mysticism. Returning to the emphasis on the role of the feminine in Jewish mysticism, one theme- erupting from the silent voice- marks the pages of Wolfson’s scholarship, namely- an ethically and ontologically driven concern for the other.
In Wolfson’s own words: “If I were to isolate a current running through the different studies, it would be the search to resolve the ontological problem of identity and difference, a philosophic matter that has demanded much attention in various contemporary intellectual currents, to wit, literary criticism, gender studies, post-colonial theory, social anthropology, just to name a few examples. Indeed, it is possible to say, with no exaggeration intended, that there has been a quest at the heart of my work to understand the other, to heed and discern the alterity of alterity…What has inspired the quest for me has been the discernment on the part of the kabbalists that the ultimate being-becoming becoming being- nameless one known through the ineffable name, yhwh- transcends oppositional binaries, for, in the one that is beyond the difference of being one or the other, light is dark, black is white, night is day, male is female, Adam is Edom.”[55]
Wolfson’s concern for the other, the subject removed from the philosopher’s gaze, transcends the everyday concern for the sociopolitical standing of various groups. Disquieted by the hierarchies of power on a practical level,[56]Wolfson sees the othering of the other as a symptom of a more fundamental, philosophical issue. The feminine, for Wolfson, speaks for all that which has been relegated to the margins of alterity. These specters of presence, repressed by Western ontotheological discourse, have engaged Wolfson in a lifelong quest to disclose that which has been concealed from sight. Operating from within the position of kabbalistic texts, Wolfson has shown that “the ontological problem of identity and difference” rests at the center of the Jewish mystical tradition. Whether it is the dialectic of zimzum which discloses through concealment as it conceals through disclosure; the contradictory essence of the sefirot that operate concurrently as the finitude-of-infinity and the infinity-of-finitude; the eschatological hope for the advent of the messiah that is disclosed-through-its-foreclosure as it is foreclosed-through-its-disclosure; the speaking of the Name that is no-Name that may only be spoken through non-speaking; or the duality of secrecy that is secret-in-exposure as it is exposed-in-secret; Wolfson clears a path in which the identity of the same can only take root through the difference of the other, and vice versa.
 It is important to note, that although Wolfson employs a certain dialectical logic to highlight the oppositional relation between one thing and its other, by no means does he allow the dialectical pressure to find relief in a totalized synthesis. Like many philosophers engaged with continental or post-modernist thought, Wolfson is no longer comfortable relying on transcendentally prescribed truths, or "meta-narratives" to enclose the open-endedness of thought in the post-Hegelian epoch.[57] In contradistinction to many self-proclaimed post-Hegelian’s, however, Wolfson’s disavowal of the “synthesis which reconciles the two” does not stem simply from an external adherence to the populist philosophical zeitgeist. Rather, Wolfson’s insistence on keeping the dialectical movement in play stems from uncovering the limit of thought in which the identity-of-difference can only be expressed through the difference-of-identity. In other words, the divergent paths of separation may only unite through the separateness of their divergence. In this space of the excluded middle, each thing and its other remain distinct, with neither pole swallowing its other in an act of metaphysical violence. This limit of thought as Wolfson notes,[58] is representative of, “‘the mystery of the light of infinity’- which is predicated on the supposition that A and not-A are the same in virtue of their difference, or…shnei hafakhim be-nose ehad, ‘two opposites in one subject’.” Viewed in this light, Wolfson enters into, "the scandal of the coicidentia oppositourm such that the Yes can become a No and the No, a Yes, not by way of conflation but by juxtaposition, the disappearance of the very possibility of difference in the nonidentity of the identity of opposites; that is, opposites are identical by virtue of their opposition.”[59] It is at this limit-of-thought which is simultaneously the thought-of-limit where Wolfson sees the root of the mystical experience, or in the language of Maurice Blanchot, ‘the limit experience’.[60]
To enter into this paradoxical ‘place that is no place’[61] where opposites coincide in their opposition, Wolfson travels ‘a path from the side’ in which the necessary delimitations of logic are necessarily circumvented. In this sense, one may locate Wolfson’s thought within the sefirotic-space of keter, the super-rational will, or desire in which limits collapse while paradoxically upholding their limitations. Seen through the (dark)light of keter, Wolfson’s feverish[62] obsession with Nothingness becomes an essential aspect of his thinking, as well as lived-experience.[63]
 In the space of a Nothing that is a something that is no-thing, the normative, restrictive nature of language and thought must be transgressed. This transgression, however, is not a simple disavowal of language and thought, rather- it is the movement through and beyond the limit of these phenomenological modes-of-being. The dialectical play of keter - in which Nothing and Something, Ayin and Yesh, coincide so that the something-of-nothing, Atik Yomin, becomes the nothing-of-something, Arich Anpin - enables Wolfson to speak through the nothingness-of-language which is concurrently the language-of-nothingness, as he thinks imaginatively through imaginative-thinking. In other words, as opposed to the normative response to that which transcends identification, namely the Wittgensteinian ‘not-speaking’, Wolfson engages in a hermeneutics of ‘speaking-not’.[64] Deeply aware of language’s limit, Wolfson speaks through language towards its (n)ever receding horizon, thus transforming the nihilistic tendency of language’s shattering into an affirmation of that that which can never be affirmed.[65]The same can be said regarding Wolfson’s approach to rational thinking. Operating within the Aristotelian laws-of-logic, the Western ontotheological tradition has engraved a deep boundary separating that which can be thought and that which transcends the human capacity of thought. Wolfson, however, reaching the limit of thoughts interiority, “breaks on through to the other side,” wandering into the recesses of exteriorities (un)thought space. At the threshold, Wolfson relinquishes the bonds of ‘mental slavery’ and enters the luminous space of imaginal thinking.[66]Wolfson’s imaginative faculty enables him to think otherwise, beyond positivistic and perceivable reality. However, Wolfson’s approach to imagination - much like his approach to language - is far more complex than the mere denial of rational thought’s efficacy. Rigorously avoiding the fantastical flight into irrationality, Wolfson’s imaginal gleanings are marked by a strict set of laws, thus enabling the paradoxical play of imaginative-thinking and thinking-imaginatively. Similar to a dream in which the imaginary is grounded by the factual as the factual is grounded by the imaginary, Wolfson’s hermeneutics transform the black and white texts into a polyphonic expression of all that remains inexpressible.       
Arriving again at the beginning, we can now comment on an essential aspect of Wolfson’s life-work, that is, the two forms of expression that walk along the path of his scholarship. The poetic hermeneutics that mark Wolfson’s theoretical work manifest, suddenly “with the turn of a breath” in his personal poetry.[67]In the ruins of language, Wolfson finds the openings through which his poetic breath may enter. Following in the trace of the poet Paul Celan, Wolfson speaks ‘every word through destruction’. The poems, often times difficult to read- not due to their opacity, but rather, due to the imaginal stirrings that are evoked- are an embodiment of the rabbinic idiom, “miut ha-machazik et ha-meruba,” the diminutive that encompasses the enormous.  The exilic nature of the poems leads the reader down the path that is no path, into the silent and lonely clearing where presence and absence dance. Reading Wolfson’s poetics along the furrows of his scholarship enables the reader to behold the embodied nature of Wolfson’s lived-thought. Along with his poetry, Wolfson is a seasoned artist whose paintings have been featured at various showings.[68] If poetry is the response to language’s limit, art is born from within rationalities foreclosure. Wolfson’s paintings depict the evanescence of color, the fleetingness of forms that get caught in the horizon of the frame. The kol of Wolfson’s poetics and the ohr of his aesthetics escort his philosophical hermeneutics into the space of the mystical experience.
Much like Wolfson’s triadic expression of scholarship, poetics and aesthetics, the written or marked space can only take the reader so far. The reader must engage with the texts through an act of hermeneutical inquisitiveness, opening themselves to what murmurs beneath the surface of the text. In this sense Elliot R. Wolfsons’s work not only opens upon a new path, but beckons the reader to join him.      
Notes:
[1] The title of this essay, “Dorshei Yichudcha,” is taken from the Ana BeKoach prayer attributed to R. Nechunya ben HaKanah. Translated by Louis Jacobs as “Seeker of Unity,” this appellation is easily applied to Professor Elliot R. Wolfson. The full context of this phrase in the prayer is as follows, “nah gibor dorshei yichudcha ki-vavat shamrem” (“please protect the seekers of Your unity like the apple of Your eye”). In his monograph on the Hasidic mystic R. Aaron haLevi Horowitz of Starosselje, “The Seeker of Unity,” Louis Jacobs records from R. Chaim Meir Hillman’s Beis Rebbe (1:26 fn.1) that when R. Dov Ber Schneerson, the Mitteler Rebbe of Habad would repeat this verse, he would have his dear friend and study partner, R. Aaron haLevi in mind. The reason, explained R. Dov Ber was because R. Aaron delves so deeply into the secret of faith, “the raza di-meheimanusa,” to the point where the demarcations of reality and Godliness dissolve. See Louis Jacobs, Seeker of Unity: The Life and Works of Aaron of Starosselje (London: Vallentine Mitchell, 1966), 7. See also Immanuel Etkes, “The War of Lyady Succession: R. Aaron Halevi versus R. Dov Baer,” Polin25 (2013): 93-133.
“Dorshei,” from the root darash, represents the hermeneutical quest, the textual journey into that which lay within the words themselves. “Yichudcha,” from the root yichud, represents the unity of all, the source beneath the fragmentation of things that unites all that is different within the difference-of-unity. The hermeneutical path that seeks to uncover the unity of all is a proper description of Elliot R. Wolfson's life and work.
[2]  Tanya, Chapter Twenty-Three.
[3] Emmanuel Levinas, Difficult Freedom: Essays on Judaism, trans. Seán Hand (London: The Athlone Press, 1990),  181.
[4] (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994).
[5] (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014).
[6] A complete listing of his articles and book chapters are available on his personal website here, as well as here.
[7] See Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), xii-xiii, where Wolfson recounts a conversation held between himself and an older Lubavitcher Hasid at 770 Eastern Parkway regarding the significance of this birthdate. Wolfson quotes the Hasid as ending the conversation with, “Pay attention, this day bears your destiny.”
[8] Amongst all streams of Jewish thought, it is possible to say that Habad Hasidus has played one of the most significant roles in Wolfson’s thought. His Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009)  is considered by many the authoritative and definitive work on the role of kabbalah in the late Lubavitcher Rebbe’s thought and political/theological weichenstellung. See as well Elliot R. Wolfson, “Revisioning the Body Apophatically: Incarnation and the Acosmic Naturalism of Habad Hasidism,” in Chris Boesel, and Catherine Keller, eds., Apophatic Bodies: Negative Theology, Incarnation, and Relationality (Fordham: Fordham University Press, 2010), 147-199. For his in-depth discussion on the fifth rebbe of Habad, R. Sholom Dov Ber Schneerson’s thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Nequddat ha-Reshimu-The Trace of Transcendence and Transcendence of the Trace: The Paradox of Simsum in the RaShaB’s Hemshekh Ayin Beit,” Kabbalah30 (2013): 75-120.
[9] Rabbi Wilfred Wolfson was an early student of Rabbi Yaakov Yitzchok Ruderman at Yeshivas Ner Yisrael ( (Ner Israel Rabbinical College), Baltimore, in the 1940’s. According to his son, Rabbi Wolfson was the first rabbinic student from Ner Israel to be given permission to attend Johns Hopkins University, where he studied with Professor William Foxwell Albright. See Wilfred Wolfson, “Review of William Foxwell Albright, The Archaeology of Palestine,” The Jewish Horizon (March 1950): 18.
Rabbi Wilfred Wolfson served as the longtime rabbi of Congregation Sha’arei Tefillah in Brooklyn and was a popular Rosh Yeshivah at Yeshiva University/BTA in Brooklyn. Upon his death, Rabbi Wilfred Wolfson’s collection of seforim was sent to the library at Ner Israel.
[10] Interview With Elliot R. Wolfson, July 25, 2012, in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 195.
[11] Rabbi Zvi Aryeh Rosenfeld is the one who is single-handedly responsible for introducing the teachings of Breslov on the American scene from the 1950s until his death in 1978.
[12] Email correspondence with Elliot R. Wolfson (16 July 2015). Teachings from Rav Kook, Ramchal, and Maharal are to be found throughout Wolfson’s work.
[13] Interview With Elliot R. Wolfson, July 25, 2012, in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 196. For his recent (and extensive) treatment of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Eternal Duration and Temporal Compresence: The Influence of Habad on Joseph B. Soloveitchik,” in Michael Zank and Ingrid Anderson, eds., The Value of the Particular: Lessons from Judaism and the Modern Jewish Experience - Festschrift for Steven T. Katz on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 196-238.
[14] See Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination (New York: Zone Books, 2011), in which he dedicates the work, “To the memory of Edith Wyschogrod, for showing me the way to the way of nonshowing.” Wolfson adds the evocative Latin phrase, “somnium somnia quasi semper vives. Vive quasi hodie moriebar– ‎Dream as if you'll live forever. Live as if you’ll die today."
For his extensive treatment of Wyschogrod’s thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 201-227. For Wolfson’s earlier work on Wyschogrod, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Apophasis and the Trace of Transcendence: Wyschogrod's Contribution to a Postmodern Jewish Immanent A/theology,” Philosophy Today 55:4 (Winter 2011): 328-347; and for his article published in a memorial festschrift for Wyschogrod, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Kenotic Overflow and Temporal Transcendence: Angelic Embodiment and the Alterity of Time in Abraham Abulafia,” in Eric Boynton and Martin Kavka, eds., Saintly Influence: Edith Wyschogrod and the Possibilities of Philosophy of Religion (New York: Fordham University Press, 2009), 113-149.
[15] Wolfson published the following essays in honor of his doctoral advisors, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Mystical Rationalization of the Commandments in the Prophetic Kabbalah of Abraham Abulafia,” in Alfred L. Ivry, Elliot R. Wolfson & Allan Arkush, eds., Perspectives on Jewish Thought and Mysticism [=Alexander Altmann Memorial Volume] (Reading: Harwood Academic Publishers, 1998), 311-360; Elliot R. Wolfson, “Female Imaging of the Torah: From Literary Metaphor to Religious Symbol,” in Jacob Neusner, Ernest S. Frerichs, and Nahum M. Sarna, eds., From Ancient Israel to Modern Judaism, Intellect In Quest of Understanding: Essays in Honor of Marvin Fox, vol. 2 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), 271-307; Elliot R. Wolfson, “‘Sage Is Preferable to Prophet’: Revisioning Midrashic Imagination,” in Deborah A. Green and Laura S. Lieber, eds., Scriptural Exegesis: The Shapes of Culture and the Religious Imagination: A Festschrift in Honor of Michael Fishbane (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 186-210.
[16] Email correspondence with Elliot R. Wolfson (16 July 2015). Wolfson’s response confirmed the approached first taken by Professor Altmann in his earliest essay, in Alexander Altmann, “Das Verhältnis Maimunis zur jüdischen Mystik,” Monatsschrift für Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judentums, 80 Jahrgang (1936): 305-330 (German), which appeared in English translation in Alexander Altmann, “Maimonides' Attitude toward Jewish Mysticism,” Alfred Jospe, ed., Studies in Jewish Thought: An Anthology of German Jewish Scholarship (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1981), 200-219. See Lawrence Fine, “Alexander Altmann's Contribution to the Study of Jewish Mysticism,” Leo Baeck Institute Yearbook 34:1 (1989): 421-431, as well as Wolfson’s extensive discussion on the Maimonidean secret in Elliot R. Wolfson, Abraham Abulafia — Kabbalist and Prophet: Hermeneutics, Theosophy and Theurgy (Los Angeles: Cherub Press, 2000).
[17] Elliot R. Wolfson, The Book of the Pomegranate: Moses de Leon’s Sefer ha-Rimmon (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988). About this edition, Daniel Abrams has written: “No Hebrew word processing paragraph today can link the base-text to the line numbers of the edition, to the variant readings and to the editor’s notes. Such linkage has to be done manually. See the most complex page layout of any camera-ready edition prepared by a single scholar in the field of Jewish mysticism: Elliot Wolfson’s The Book of the Pomegranate.” See Daniel Abrams, Kabbalistic Manuscripts and Textual Theory: Methodologies of Textual Scholarship and Editorial Practice in the Study of Jewish Mysticism(Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2010), 69n169.
[18] I would like to thank yedidi Reb Menachem Butler for his help in preparing this essay. More importantly, Menachem has played a uniquely important role in my life, opening space for relationships otherwise inaccessible. Echoing the sentiment expressed to me by Professor Michael Fishbane shlita, Menachem is a shadchan in the truest sense of the word, uniting worlds otherwise disparate. The indelible mark Menachem has imparted onto and into the world of Torah and Jewish studies is unparalleled. It is through Menachem that I came to meet Professor Wolfson, and through Menachem is this essay possible.
[19] See below for Wolfson’s usage of Rosenzweigian sprachdenken.
[20] See Walter Benjamin, “Franz Kafka,” trans. Harry Zohn, in Michael W. Jennings, Howard Eiland, and Gary Smith, eds., Selected Writings, vol. 2, 1927-1934(Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1999), 812.
[21] I do not recall the exact ma’amar studied, but the topic was the paradoxical nature of simsum in which concealment is disclosed through the disclosure of concealment.
[22] Email correspondence with Elliot R. Wolfson (17 July 2015).
[23] Among the numerous students Wolfson has supervised, Professors Daniel Abrams, Jonathan Dauber and Hartley Lachter have become scholars of Jewish Mysticism, often building upon the themes in Wolfson’s work. See, for example, Daniel Abrams, The Female Body of God in Kabbalistic Literature: Embodied Forms of Love and Sexuality in the Divine Feminine (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2004); Jonathan Dauber, Knowledge of God and the Development of Early Kabbalah (Leiden: Brill, 2012); Hartley Lachter, Kabbalistic Revolution: Reimagining Judaism in Medieval Spain (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2015), and others. Aside from his official students, Wolfson has mentored various scholars in the field as well.
[24] Daniel Abrams, Kabbalistic Manuscripts and Textual Theory: Methodologies of Textual Scholarship and Editorial Practice in the Study of Jewish Mysticism (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2010), 13-14.
[25] Jonathan Garb, “In Honor of Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream,” NYU-Humanities Initiative (28 February 2012), available online here.
[26] This sense of radical hermeneutics is borrowed from John D. Caputo, Radical Hermeneutics: Repetition, Deconstruction and The Hermeneutic Project (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987) and on his usage of this terminology, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 473fn27.
[27] See Pinchas Giller, “Elliot Wolfson and the Study of Kabbalah in the Wake of Scholem,” Religious Studies Review 25:1 (January 1999): 23-28.
[28] Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009).
[29] For a compilation of Wolfson’s work on the Zohar, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Luminal Darkness: Imaginal Gleanings from Zoharic Literature (Oxford: Oneworld, 2007). Regarding the importance of Wolfson’s Zoharic scholarship see, Daniel Abrams, Kabbalistic Manuscripts and Textual Theory: Methodologies of Textual Scholarship and Editorial Practice in the Study of Jewish Mysticism (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2010): 132-133, 353-359.
[30] On Maimonides, see, Elliot R. Wolfson, “Beneath the Wings of the Great Eagle: Maimonides and Thirteenth-Century Kabbalah,” in Görge K. Hasselhoff and Otfried Fraisse, eds., Moses Maimonides (1138-1204): His Religious, Scientific, and Philosophical Wirkungsgeschichte in Different Cultural Contexts (Würzburg: Ergon Verlag, 2004), 209-237; and regarding the impact of Maimonidean negative theology on early Jewish mysticism, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Negative Theology and Positive Assertion in the Early Kabbalah,” Da’at32-33 (1994): V-XXII (English); Elliot R. Wolfson, “Via Negativa in Maimonides and Its Impact on Thirteenth-Century Kabbalah,” Maimonidean Studies 5 (2008): 363-412. For a recent discussion on the Maimonidean influence on the Neo-Kantianism of Hermann Cohen, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 14-33.
[31]  On Abraham Abulafia, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Abraham Abulafia—Kabbalist and Prophet: Hermeneutics, Theosophy, and Theurgy (Los Angeles: Cherub Press. 2000).
[32] See Pinchas Giller, “Elliot Wolfson and the Study of Kabbalah in the Wake of Scholem,” Religious Studies Review 25:1 (January 1999): 23-28.
[33] For an extensive treatment of humility in Jewish thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Venturing Beyond: Morality and Law in Kabbalistic Mysticism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 286-316. See also the brief letter by Rav Aryeh Kaplan, “The Humility of God,” The Jewish Press (27 January 1967): 45, called to my attention by Menachem Butler.
Regarding modesty as the prerequisite for truly engaging Jewish mystical texts, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “From Sealed Book to Open Text: Time, Memory, and Narrativity in Kabbalistic Hermeneutics,” in Steven Kepnes, ed., Interpreting Judaism in a Postmodern Age (New York University Press, 1995), 145-178; and Elliot R. Wolfson, “Secrecy, Modesty, and the Feminine: Kabbalistic Traces in the Thought of Levinas,”in Kevin Hart and Michael A. Signer, eds., The Exorbitant: Emmanuel Levinas Between Jews and Christians (New York: Fordham University Press, 2010), 52-73.
[34] On the usage of poetic-chiasmus in Wolfson’s work, a motif that can be found countless times throughout his oeuvre, see Aaron W. Hughes, “Elliot R. Wolfson: An Intellectual Portrait,” in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking(Leiden: Brill, 2015), 1-33.
[35] See the prologue “Timeswerve/Hermeneutic Reversibility,” in Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), xv-xxxi, where he combats the claim of anachronism through an in-depth depiction of hermeneutical temporality; Elliot R. Wolfson, Wolfson, Alef, Mem, Tau: Kabbalistic Musings on Time, Truth and Death (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2006), 1-55. For a similar approach to this issue, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Structure, Innovation, and Diremptive Temporality: The Use of Models to Study Continuity and Discontinuity in Kabbalistic Tradition,” Journal for the Study of Religions and Ideologies 6:18 (2007): 143-167. See the comments of Sergey Dolgopolski, The Open Past: Subjectivity and Remembering in the Talmud (New York: Fordham University Press, 2013), 342fn6.
[36] On Reb Zadok ha-Kohen of Lublin, see the various scholarly studies by Professor Yaakov Elman, which are all noted in Dovid Bashevkin, “In Your Anger, Please Mercifully Publish My Work: An Honest Account of a Contemporary Jewish Publishing Odyssey” the Seforim blog (26 June 2015), available here, and earlier in Dovid Bashevkin, “Perpetual Prophecy: An Intellectual Tribute to Reb Zadok ha-Kohen of Lublin on his 110th Yahrzeit,” (with an appendix entitled: “The World as a Book: Religious Polemic, Hasidei Ashkenaz, and the Thought of Reb Zadok,”), the Seforim blog (18 August 2010), available here.
[37] See Tzidkat ha-Tzadik, no. 70.
[38] Regarding Wolfson’s usage of Rosenzweigian sprachdenken, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Introduction,” to Franz Rosenzweig, The Star of Redemption, trans. Barbara E. Galli (Wisconsin: University of Wisconsin Press, 2005), xvii-xx. See as well, Elliot R. Wolfson, “Foreword,” to Yudit Kornberg Greenberg, Better Than Wine: Love, Poetry, and Prayer in the Thought of Franz Rosenzweig (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1996),  xi-xii.
For an extensive treatment on Rosenzweig’s thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 34-89. For an earlier approach see, Elliot R. Wolfson, “Facing the Effaced: Mystical Eschatology and the Idealistic Orientation in the Thought of Franz Rosenzweig,” Zeitschrift für Neure Theologiegeschichte 4 (1997): 39-81. See, as well, Elliot R. Wolfson, “Light Does Not Talk but Shines: Apophasis and Vision in Rosenzweig’s Theopoetic Temporality,” in Aaron W. Hughes and Elliot R. Wolfson, eds., New Directions in Jewish Philosophy(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2009), 87-148.
[39] Regarding the central role translation as a hermeneutic form of interpretation, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination(New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 1-45. For an earlier approach, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Lying on the Path: Translation and the Transport of Sacred Texts,” AJS Perspectives 3 (2001): 8-13. For the influence of Hans Georg-Gademer’s interpretation theory on Wolfson’s thought, see, Elliot R. Wolfson, Pathwings: Philosophic and Poetic Reflections on the Hermeneutics of Time and Language (Barrytown, NY: Barrytown/Station Hill Press, 2004), 227-233.
[40] Regarding Heidegger’s Nazism, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 420fn241 and for a recent approach to the publications of Heidegger’s infamous “Black Notebooks,” see the interview with Elliot R. Wolfson by Aubrey Glazer, “What does Heidegger’s Anti-Semitism mean for Jewish Philosophy?” Religion Dispatches (3 April 2014), online here. For a similar approach deeply influenced by Wolfson’s thought, see Michael Fagenblat, “The Thing that Scares Me Most: Heidegger’s anti-Semitism and the Return to Zion,” Journal for Cultural and Religious Theory 14:1 (Fall 2014), 8-24. For an earlier attempt to reconcile Heidegger’s thought with Jewish thought, see, Marlène Zarader, The Unthought Debt: Heidegger and the Hebraic Heritage (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2006) and Jean-Francois Lyotard, Heidegger and ‘the Jews’, trans. Andreas Michel and Mark Roberts (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1990).
Regarding Wolfson’s engagement with Heidegger, see Aaron W. Hughes, “Elliot R. Wolfson: An Intellectual Portrait,” in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 1-33. See also the multi-page-footnote in Elliot R. Wolfson, “Eternal Duration and Temporal Compresence: The Influence of Habad on Joseph B. Soloveitchik,” in Michael Zank and Ingrid Anderson, eds., The Value of the Particular: Lessons from Judaism and the Modern Jewish Experience - Festschrift for Steven T. Katz on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 208-212fn37.
It would be difficult to speak of all the places in which Wolfson engages Heidegger’s thought, however see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Not Yet Now: Speaking of the End and the End of Speaking,” in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 127-193; and Elliot R. Wolfson, “Undoing the (K)not of Apophaticism: A Heideggerian Afterthought,” in Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 227-260. The specific impact Heidegger’s thought has had on Wolfson will be discussed in a future essay.
[41] Elliot R. Wolfson, “Achronic Time, Messianic Expectation, and the Secret of the Leap in Ḥabad,” in  Jonatan Meir and Gadi Sagiv, eds., Habad Hasidisim: History, Theology and Image (Jerusalem: Merkaz Zalman Shazar, forthcoming in 2016), 27fn28.
[42] On Heidegger’s impact on Jewish thinkers, see Richard Wolin, Heidegger's Children: Hannah Arendt, Karl Löwith, Hans Jonas, and Herbert Marcuse (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2003).
[43] See Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 90-154; Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination (New York: Zone Books, 2011), 32-38, 297-302fn59-74; and Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), 251-252.
For an earlier approach to the influence of Jewish mysticism on the thought of Emmanuel Levinas, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Secrecy, Modesty, and the Feminine: Kabbalistic Traces in the Thought of Levinas,” in Kevin Hart and Michael A. Signer, eds., The Exorbitant: Emmanuel Levinas Between Jews and Christians (New York: Fordham University Press, 2010), 52-73. See also Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 432fn362. The specific impact that Levinas’s thought has had on Wolfson’s will be discussed in a future essay.
[44] On Derrida’s Jewishness and the Jewishness of Derrida, see John D. Caputo, The Prayers and Tears of Jacques Derrida (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1997), 230-263; see Bettina Bergo, Joseph Cohen, and Raphael Zagury-Orly, eds., Judeities: Questions for Jacques Derrida(New York: Fordham University Press, 2007); Gideon Ofrat, The Jewish Derrida, trans. Peretz Kidron (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 2001); Geoffrey Bennington and Jacques Derrida, Jacques Derrida (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993), 292-297. For Derrida’s own treatment of the Jewishness of his thought, see Jacques Derrida, Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression, trans. Eric Prenowitz (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996); and Geoffrey Bennington and Jacques Derrida, Jacques Derrida (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993).
[45] Wolfson utilizes the Derridian notion of inclusion-through-exclusion to describe his relationship with the organized aspect of Jewish religion. While this dialectic of presence/absence demands a more significant treatment, see Wolfson’s autobiographical comments in Elliot R. Wolfson by Aubrey Glazer, “What does Heidegger’s Anti-Semitism mean for Jewish Philosophy?” Religion Dispatches (3 April 2014), online here; and Interview With Elliot R. Wolfson, July 25, 2012, in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015). For an exhaustive treatment of antinomianism and hypernomianism as it relates to the Jewish mystical tradition see, Elliot R. Wolfson, Venturing Beyond: Morality and Law in Kabbalistic Mysticism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006).
[46] On Derrida, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 155-200. For an earlier approach on the influence of kabbalah on Derrida’s thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Assaulting the Border: Kabbalistic Traces in the Margins of Derrida,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 70:3 (September 2002): 475-514. For an analysis of Derrida’s famous phrase, “there is nothing outside of the text,” see Elliot R. Wolfson, “From Sealed Book to Open Text: Time, Memory, and Narrativity in Kabbalistic Hermeneutics,” in Steven Kepnes, ed., Interpreting Judaism in a Postmodern Age(New York University Press, 1995), 145-178.
[47] In private discussion with the author.
[48] Regarding the role of gender in Jewish mysticism, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Circle in the Square: Studies in the Use of Gender in Kabbalistic Symbolism (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1995). Aside from the essays compiled in this volume, Wolfson has continued to devote much time and effort to this aspect of his scholarship, see for example, Elliot R. Wolfson,  “Woman—The Feminine As Other in Theosophic Kabbalah: Some Philosophical Observations on the Divine Androgyne,” in Lawrence J. Silberstein and Robert L. Cohn, eds.,  The Other in Jewish Thought and History: Constructions of Jewish Culture and Identity (New York: New York University Press, 1994), 166-204; Elliot R. Wolfson, “Crossing Gender Boundaries in Kabbalistic Ritual and Myth,” in Mortimer Ostow, Ultimate Intimacy: The Psychodynamics of Jewish Mysticism (London: Karnac Books, 1995), 255-337; and Elliot R. Wolfson, “Occultation of the Feminine and the Body of Secrecy in Medieval Kabbalah,” in Elliot R. Wolfson, ed., Rending the Veil: Concealment and Revelation of Secrets in the History of Religions (New York and London: Seven Bridges Press, 1999), 113-154. Many more sources could be cited.
[49] Wolfson has responded to the various critics of his stance in numerous places within his scholarship. See for example, Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination (New York: Zone Books, 2011), 439fn65; Elliot R. Wolfson, Luminal Darkness: Imaginal Gleanings from Zoharic Literature (Oxford: Oneworld, 2007), 254fn26; Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 136, 486fn191; Elliot R. Wolfson, Pathwings: Philosophic and Poetic Reflections on the Hermeneutics of Time and Language (Barrytown, NY: Barrytown/Station Hill Press, 2004), 248fn53; and most recently in Elliot R. Wolfson, “Patriarchy and the Motherhood of God in Zoharic Kabbalah and Meister Eckhart,” in Ra’anan S. Boustan, et al., eds., Envisioning Judaism: Studies in Honor of Peter Schäfer on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday, vol. 2 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 1049-1088, esp. 1058-1059fn30.
[50] See for example, Arthur Green, “Kabbalistic Re-Vision: A Review Article of Elliot Wolfson’s Through a Speculum That Shines,” History of Religions 36:3 (February 1997): 265-274; Melila Hellner-Eshed, A River Flows from Eden: The Language of Mystical Experience in the Zohar (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2009), 347-356.
[51] See Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 1-45.
[52]  See Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), 200-223; for the most recent explication of Wolfson’s stance on this issue, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Phallic Jewissance and the Pleasure of No Pleasure” (forthcoming in 2015). It is important to note that this is a rudimentary treatment of one of the more complex areas in Wolfson’s thought. The potential capacity of undoing the gender-valence inherent within the mystical tradition has yet to be fully unfolded. This will be addressed in a future essay.
[53] Interview with David Novak, in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, David Novak: Natural Law and Revealed Torah (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 118-119.
[54] On the significance of walking/wandering in Jewish mystical thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Walking as a Sacred Duty: Theological Transformation of Social Reality in Early Hasidism,” in Ada Rapoport-Albert, ed., Hasidism Reappraised (London: Littman Library, 1997), 180-207.
[55]  Elliot R. Wolfson, Luminal Darkness: Imaginal Gleanings from Zoharic Literature (Oxford: Oneworld, 2007), xvi. For an extended treatment of this theme, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 46-111. See also Elliot R. Wolfson, “Ontology, Alterity, and Ethics in Kabbalistic Anthropology,” Exemplaria 12:1 (January 2000): 129-155.
[56] Wolfson has consistently avoided engaging current sociopolitical issues in his scholarship. This stems from a focus on the subterranean themes of the dynamic as opposed to the symptomatic expression of current events.
[57] See Elliot R. Wolfson, “Not Yet Now: Speaking of the End and the End of Speaking,” in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 182.
[58] Elliot R. Wolfson, “Nequddat ha-Reshimu-The Trace of Transcendence and Transcendence of the Trace: The Paradox of Simsum in the RaShaB’s Hemshekh Ayin Beit,” Kabbalah 30 (2013): 92, and for an in-depth analysis of this (non)logic, see 92-98.
It is possible to say that this form of logic that is not one, the middle excluded by the formal laws of logic, rests at the center of Wolfson’s thinking. This logic inherent to Wolfson’s treatment of Jewish Mysticism - in which the identity of opposites is affirmed by the opposite of identity- is inspired in part by the logic of the Middle Path, or ‘the logic of not’ expressed in the Mahayana Buddhist tradition. See Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), 109-114, 247-250; Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination (New York: Zone Books, 2011), 179-219; Elliot R. Wolfson, Wolfson, Alef, Mem, Tau: Kabbalistic Musings on Time, Truth and Death (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2006), 158-170; Elliot R. Wolfson, Venturing Beyond: Morality and Law in Kabbalistic Mysticism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 170-176, 232-247.
[59] Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014), xxiii.
[60]  Wolfson expands on this notion in a lecture at the historic Rothko Chapel in Houston, “The Path Beyond the Path: Mysticism and the Spiritual Quest for Universal Singularity,” delivered on 7 April 2011), available online here. See as well, Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 288-289.
[61]  See Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 233-234.
[62]  The usage of the word ‘feverish’ is inspired by the Derridian notion of fever as unending memory of the immemorial futurity; see Jacques Derrida, Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression, trans. Eric Prenowitz (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996).
[63]  The topic of Nothingness is found too frequently throughout Wolfson’s scholarship to source exhaustively; for example, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Nihilating Nonground and the Temporal Sway of Becoming: kabbalisticly envisioning nothing beyond nothing,” Angelaki 17:3 (2012): 31-45; Elliot R. Wolfson, “Negative Theology and Positive Assertion in the Early Kabbalah,” Da’at 32-33 (1994): V-XXII (English); Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), 75-82, 113-115; Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 75-87; Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 173-186; Elliot R. Wolfson, Venturing Beyond: Morality and Law in Kabbalistic Mysticism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 212-215; Elliot R. Wolfson, Wolfson, Alef, Mem, Tau: Kabbalistic Musings on Time, Truth and Death (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2006), 36-39, 167-168, 234fn12; and Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination (New York: Zone Books, 2011), 229-239.
[64]  See Elliot R. Wolfson, “Nihilating Nonground and the Temporal Sway of Becoming: kabbalisticly envisioning nothing beyond nothing,” Angelaki17:3 (2012): 31-45.
[65]  To condense Wolfson’s thought on language into a paragraph, or even a footnote is as impossible as it is improper. Few thinkers have engaged in the linguistic path of (un)showing the limit of language while simultaneously utilizing language in its own disavowal, as Wolfson has. Speaking from within and beyond the philosophers of language, including but not limited to Heidegger, Wittgenstein, Derrida, Levinas, Blanchot, Celan, Buber, Foucault, Jabes, Kristeva, and Lacan; Wolfson has uncovered new, impossible vistas in which the hermeneutics of language may be thought anew. To attempt a listing of Wolfson’s thought on language would be to miss the liminal nature of what can properly be called “Wolfsonian Language.” For an introduction, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 1-44.
[66]  The primacy of imagination in Wolfson’s scholarship has already been noted in Aaron W. Hughes, “Elliot R. Wolfson: An Intellectual Portrait,”  in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 1-33. See as well Jeffrey J. Kripal, “The Mystical Mirror of Hermeneutics: Gazing into Elliot Wolfson's Speculum,” in Roads of Excess, Palaces of Wisdom: Eroticism and Reflexivity in the Study of Mysticism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001), 258-298. This is testified by the fact that nearly all of Wolfson’s published books contain some reference to the imaginative faculty. For example, Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New York: Fordham University Press, 2005); Elliot R. Wolfson, Luminal Darkness: Imaginal Gleanings from Zoharic Literature (Oxford: Oneworld, 2007); Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination (New York: Zone Books, 2011). For an overview of Wolfson’s thoughts on imagination, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 1-14. The primary treatment of imagination can be found in Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination (New York: Zone Books, 2011).
[67] Elliot R. Wolfson has published two poetry collections thus far. Elliot R. Wolfson, Pathwings: Philosophic and Poetic Reflections on the Hermeneutics of Time and Language (Barrytown, NY: Barrytown/Station Hill Press, 2004), and Elliot R. Wolfson, Footdreams & Treetales: Ninety-Two Poems (New York: Fordham University Press, 2007). Wolfson’s third collection of poetry, On One Foot Dancing, can be found online here. For an in-depth analysis of Wolfson’s poetics, see Barbara Ellen Galli, On the Wings of Moonlight: Elliot R. Wolfson's Poetry in the Path of Rosenzweig and Celan (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2007). For the sake of space, a discussion on Wolfson’s poetry will be treated in a future essay.

[68] For an in-depth treatment of Wolfson’s aesthetics seen through his scholarship, and vice versa, see, Marcia Brennan, Flowering Light: Kabbalistic Mysticism and the Art of Elliot R. Wolfson (Houston: Rice University Press, 2009). A selection of Wolfson’s art are online here, which is prefaced with: “elliot wolfson has long been preoccupied with the insights of jewish mystical traditions that approach an imageless god through the mediation of an intensely visual symbolic imaginary. his painted canvases communicate a corresponding sense that vision hovers ever on the borders of appearing and disappearing, disclosure and hiddenness. as the imagination seeks to give form to what remains nonetheless formless, the quintessentially human endeavor of hermeneutics is already caught up in the transcending eros of a divine creativity.”

Truth be Told[1] Comments on Changing the Immutable: How Orthodox Judaism Rewrites its History by Marc B. Shapiro

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Truth be Told[1] 
by Aryeh A. Frimer*

Comments on Changing the ImmutableHow Orthodox Judaism Rewrites its History by Marc B. Shapiro (Oxford – PortlandOR: The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2015).

*Rabbi Prof. Aryeh A. Frimer holds the Ethel and David Resnick Chair of Active Oxygen Chemistry at Bar Ilan UniversityRamat Gan 5290002, Israel; email: Aryeh.Frimer@biu.ac.il. He has lectured and published widely on various aspects of “Women and Halakha;” see here. His most recent paper is: “Women, Kri’at haTorah and Aliyyot (with an Addendum on Partnership Minyanim),” Aryeh A. Frimer and Dov I. Frimer, Tradition, 46:4 (Winter, 2013), 67-238, available online here.

            I found R. Prof. Marc Shapiro's new book Changing the Immutable a fascinating read and very hard to put down. The first seven chapters deal with censorship of halakhic and philosophical works, while the eighth focuses on lying and misrepresentation in pesak. As we know from his previous works, Shapiro has a very fluid writing style and the subject matter is always well researched. He does his best to be honest, unbiased and complete in his presentation. He is, moreover, intrigued with exploring the limits of the traditional consensus, which makes for some captivating reading. Yet, despite all these wonderful qualities – or perhaps, because of them, I found the present volume particularly unsettling and disconcerting.

R. Jacob J Schacter's classic article "Facing the Truths of History" had already sensitized me to the fact that publishers censor and even rewrite portions of the books they bring to press.[2] They do so because they find some of their author's positions "unacceptable" - views which don't fit the publishers' or the intended reader's "party line." That such censorship continues unabashedly in the 21st century is disappointing, but then "there is no shame anymore." But these are, by and large, sins of omission; somehow, with that I could live.

            But what I found particularly troubling with Changing the Immutable was the last chapter, which deals with lying in pesak. After going through the many examples Shapiro cites, the reader is left with one clear impression. One sometimes needs to be careful about trusting a Posek, since he may well be misrepresenting something in his ruling. It could be the source and authority of the prohibition. For example, is the prohibition based on a biblical commandment (positive or negative), rabbinic edict, custom or mere public policy (slippery slope) considerations? Alternatively, the expressed reason may not be the real grounds for the prohibition. In addition, the application may be much broader than halakhically permitted. To my mind these are shocking revelations: these are not sins of omission but commission; the perpetrators are scholars and religious leaders; and these deviations constitute intellectual dishonesty at its worst.

Our author is not insensitive to this dissonance. In an attempt to explain how these scholars justify not being fully honest in pesak, Shapiro writes in the last two pages of the book (pp. 284-285) about "redefining truth." He indicates that these decisors see nothing wrong in what they are doing, since their ultimate goal is the "higher good". As they see it, they have ultimately prevented their respective communities and congregants from sinning and deviating from the proper path of shemirat mitsvot. The fact that these scholars have bent the truth, and distorted Jewish law in the process, is of lesser importance. The ends in these cases, justify the means.

It is with these jarring observations that the book comes to an abrupt end, without any further comment or soul-searching. This is despite the fact that on page 239ff, Shapiro brings one citation from Hazal after another about the centrality of truth, and the seriousness of the sin of lying. After all, the Torah itself commands us: "mi-Devar sheker tirhak"– "From untruthfulness, distance thyself” (Exodus 23:7). If what the author writes in the last chapter is true, then Hazal's eloquent statements about the importance of honesty have become nothing but a mockery. It raises serious moral questions with insufficient and unsatisfying answers. How are we now supposed to educate our children and talmidim as to the cardinal nature of truth and truthfulness?! How are we to live with such a clash between theory and practice?

In the course of our own study of Women's Tefilla Groups, my brother R. Prof. Dov Frimer and I researched misrepresentation in pesak in the context of women's issues.[3] Many leading Rabbis were deeply and justifiably concerned that some of the feminist practices introduced were ultimately "bad for the Jews" on public policy grounds.[4] But instead of saying so clearly, some rabbis adduced reasons that were not halakhically sound. Our own research has led us to the clear conclusion that the vast majority of the gedolim do not condone this type of misrepresentation or that discussed in the last chapter of Changing the Immutable. Giving an erroneous ruling – despite one's good intentions, or even misstating the reason or source for a prohibition, violates the prohibition "mi-Devar sheker tirhak", if not a variety of other issurim.

We begin our discussion of this issue with the famous Pesak Din (halakhic ruling) promulgated by a conference of rabbis who met in Michalowce Hungary in 1865. This edict initially signed by twenty-five leading rabbinic figures and subsequently by many more, ruled that nine practices (including, inter alia, synagogue choirs, sermons in the vernacular, synagogues weddings, absence of a central bima, canonical robes for the Hazan) were halakhically forbidden. Leading rabbis Moses Schick and Esriel Hildesheimer and many of their colleagues refused to sign. The fundamental claim of Rabbis Schick and Hildesheimer was that, contrary to the impression given by the Pesak Din, the only grounds for some of the edicts were public policy (mi-gdar milta) - not halakhic - considerations.[5] The term “Pesak Din” (legal ruling) was in fact a conscious misnomer, an attempt to hide the truth, and, hence, a flagrant deviation from Jewish law with which they could take no part. R. Schick also argued that, since the Pesak Din was promulgated by a Jewish court, it violated bal tosif, adding a mitsva to the Torah.[6]

Similarly, R. Zvi Hirsch Chajes[7] argues that it is forbidden to call a rabbinic edict a biblical prohibition because it violates not only bal tosif but also mi-devar sheker tirhak. Similarly, R. Chayim Hirschensohn[8] charges those rabbis who forbid women to become involved in politics with violating both bal tosif and lying. R. Chaim Soloveitchik of Brisk[9], maintains that both Ra’avad and Rambam agree that “mi-devar sheker tirhak” forbids a posek from claiming that a rabbinic injunction is biblical. R. Jacob Israel Kanievsky,[10] refuting the suggestion that it is forbidden to take part in elections in the secular State of Israel, writes: “…And your Honor should know that even to be zealous, it is forbidden to teach Torah not according to the halakha (Avot V:8), and that which is not true will not succeed at all.” R. Haim David Halevi[11] prohibits a posek from misrepresenting halakha and/or giving an erroneous reason for a prohibition for two basic reasons: (1) the biblical prohibition of “mi-devar sheker tirhak” and (2) a total loss of trust in rabbinic authority would result should the truth become known (see more below). [See also the related opinions of Rabbis Ehrenberg, Rogeler and Sobel cited below.]

As Prof. Shapiro documents in Changing the Immutable, some posekim dissent. They argued, on various grounds, that “mi-devar sheker tirhak” is not applicable to cases where halakha is misrepresented so as to prevent future violations of Jewish law. Other scholars argue that the dispensation to modify the truth in order to maintain peace (me-shanim mi-penei ha-shalomYevamot 65b) also applies to misrepresenting halakha in order to maintain peace between kelal Yisrael and the Almighty. Yet others maintain that if a posek believes an action should be prohibited because of mi-gdar milta, he may misrepresent the reason for or source of a prohibition; since there will be no change in the legal outcome, mi-devar sheker tirhak does not apply.[12] Finally, some have argued that mi-devar sheker tirhak only refers to lying in court.[13]

But these arguments have been seriously and vigorously challenged. Thus, R. Joshua Menahem Mendel Ehrenberg[14] demonstrates that the consensus of posekim - rishonim and aharonim - is that mi-devar sheker tirhak applies in all cases, inside court and out. R. Ehrenberg further argues that this is true even if it is intended to promote a religious purpose (ve-afilu li-devar mitsva). Similarly, R. Elijah [ben Samuel] of Lublin[15] chastises a colleague for lying in a decision, even though his intentions were noble. R. Ovadiah Yosef[16] discusses at length whether a judge, maintaining a minority position on a three judge panel, can lie and say “I do not know what to rule,” - so that two more judges will be added to the panel and his minority opinion will have a chance to become the majority view; he concludes that it is forbidden. R. Solomon Sobel[17] explicitly states that me-shanim mi-penei ha-shalom only allows one to change the facts, not the halakha. Both R. Jacob Ettlinger and R. Reuben Margaliot[18] maintain that me-shanim mi-penei ha-shalom allows one only to obfuscate by using language which can be understood in different ways, but not to lie; hence, misrepresenting halakhic reasons or sources would also be forbidden.

Also unmentioned is the long list of posekim (including the Radba"z)[19] who maintain that even if one is theoretically permitted to misrepresent Halakha, under certain unique circumstances – one is nevertheless forbidden to do so in practice. This is because "the truth will out."   Not only will this revelation ultimately lead to a terrible hillul Hashem, but it will undermine peoples' trust in the rabbinic establishment. In this regard R. Benjamin Lau has observed:[20]
The rabbi is expected to know and present the various aspects of each issue and not to conceal those aspects that are inconsistent with his own point of view. If a rabbi is untrue to the sources and reaches his decision without taking account of conflicting views, he will be seen to be untrustworthy. And a lack of trust between a rabbi and his community of questioners will drive a wedge between that community and the Torah overall. Stating the truth, of course, does not require the decisor to remain neutral; his role requires him to reach a decision one way or the other. But the decision must be reached through disclosure, not concealment, of the alternatives….. Now, when everyone has access to the [Bar Ilan] Responsa Project data base and Google provides answers to all imaginable questions, everyone can check every responsum and examine its trustworthiness. A rabbi who rules in an oversimplified way, whether strictly or leniently, in a area of halakhic complexity will be caught as untrustworthy.
Having lived through the crises and confrontations of women's prayer groups, women on religious councils, women in communal leadership roles and women's aliyyot – I can testify that there is great need for both in-depth knowledge and truthfulness. The "hillul Hashem and loss of trust" argument is not just hype - but painfully all too accurate! Many of the rabbis in the 1970s lost control of the religious leadership of their communities because they were unprepared or unwilling to deal with the challenges honestly and head on. Many rabbis simply tried to stonewall the situation, while others were not forthright about the real reason for forbidding such practices. As previously noted, the Rabbis may well have been correct that many of the feminist practices introduced were halakhically unsound or "bad for the Jews" on a variety of public policy grounds.[21] But instead of saying so clearly (as Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik zt"l had urged and himself practiced), some rabbis waffled, while others prevaricated. But the halakhic truth quickly became known – a consequence of the "information age." And as a result, many balebatim lost trust in the religious leadership as a whole. For them the conclusion was simply: "Everything boils down to politics." 

            It is, therefore, critically important to reiterate that the cases cited by our author, exemplify neither pesak in general, nor the consensus view of the posekim. It is forbidden to misrepresent in halakhic rulings as a matter of law and policy.  In essence, then, Prof Shapiro's scholarly and well-documented book presents the reader with a most fascinating review of an approach within halakhic decision making, which has been rejected by mainstream pesak. Indeed, such cases need to be actively addressed if they are to be uprooted.

Response by Marc B. Shapiro

I understand why Professor Frimer is troubled by what I wrote, and to a large extent my conclusions diverge from his own. All I would say is that the matter is complex, and rather than attempt to simplify matters, as I feel Frimer has done, we must attempt to understand how the same Sages who spoke about the importance of truth could at times countenance departure from it. This is a challenge that requires sensitivity and nuance, and appreciation of changing times and values. When Frimer sees a text that permits false attribution, he sees prevarication and hypocrisy. But a historically attuned outlook would seek to understand rather than condemn. Ironically, it is Frimer who is judging the Sages and decisors, because if their ideas do not conform to his understanding then these ideas are regarded by him as problematic.

Thus, Frimer cites the famous 1865 pesak din of Michalowce and tells us that R. Moses Schick and R. Esriel Hildesheimer opposed it since they saw it as departing from the truth. While their position is certainly significant, what about the fact that among Hungarian rabbis they were a minority, and most of the leading Hungarian rabbis supported the pesak? How is my argument refuted by citing Rabbis Schick and Hildesheimer if they were opposed by most of their colleagues? Doesn’t the fact that most of the Hungarian rabbis opposed Rabbis Schick and Hildesheimer support my position? 

As for the various rabbinic opinions cited by Frimer, I don’t deny that these opinions exist, and in my book I refer to Frimer’s famous article on women’s prayer groups in which he cites these opinions. But I also make the point that there is an alternative tradition which allows much more leeway for authorities to at times diverge from the truth. I also believe, contrary to Frimer, that this is a mainstream position. Since this position is held by R. Ovadiah Yosef and R. Hayyim Kanievsky, I don’t see how it is possible for one to state that it is not a mainstream position.

The point of the chapter, however, was not to advocate for one position or the other, but to focus on the alternative tradition, the existence of which is more or less suppressed today. I was explicit that my aim was to show how far some were willing to go in sanctioning deviations from the truth, and I indicate that there are views in opposition to these. However, my intent was to study the views of those with a “liberal” perspective on the importance of truth. It is this tradition that I wished to explore, and to rescue it, as it were, from the well-intentioned apologetics. I never state that this is the only authentic position. On the contrary, one can find the opposite perspective presented in numerous articles. This is why I thought it was important to present alternative views, from the Talmud until the present, views which I think show that there is a rabbinic conception of the Noble Lie.

I also must dispute the following statement by Frimer: “R. Joshua Menahem Mendel Ehrenberg demonstrates that the consensus of posekim – rishonim and aharonim – is that mi-devar sheker tirhak applies in all cases, inside court and out. R. Ehrenberg further argues that this is true even if it is intended to promote a religious purpose.” How can Frimer state that R. Ehrenberg “demonstrates” such a thing? What R. Ehrenberg does is present an argument, and everyone can evaluate its cogency. The fact is that numerous authorities do not accept R. Ehrenberg’s position, which means that they would not agree that he has proven his case.

To Frimer, and others like him who have the same reaction after reading chapter 7, I can only say that modern views of how to understand texts, and what we today regard as truth, cannot be used as a measure with which to judge people who lived in a very different time and had a very different understanding of these sorts of matters. It is their understanding that I seek to explore, rather than foisting my own value judgments upon them. Unlike Frimer, who is involved in halakhic writing and attempting to influence the community in religious matters, I write from a more "objective" perspective, without such concerns. As such, while Frimer wishes to “uproot” what he regards as unacceptable views of certain poskim. I seek to understand the phenomenon and to describe it.

When, on p. 284, I speak about redefining truth, I am not speaking about poskim per se but about how to understand the entire phenomenon that I have documented in the book. The question is how does the importance of truth coexist with what we have seen, and it is in this context that I discuss how truth need not be seen as equivalent to factual or historical truth.

I agree with Frimer that none of the great poskim supported lying in pesak as a normative option on a regular basis. Yet as I have already indicated,  I believe that there is a tradition that allows for not being frank at certain times, when it is thought that other values are at stake. In the book I state that we should understand this position in a sympathetic fashion even if it is at odds with how today we generally approach matters.

Frimer asks how are we supposed to educate our children and students as to the importance of truth and truthfulness if what I say is correct. This is a good question with which educators need to struggle, but it is not a refutation of what I have written. If my position is correct, the world will not collapse. It will just be one more Torah matter, alongside Amalek, yefat toar, slavery, homosexuality, etc., that at certain times is not in line with contemporary values.

Here are some more comments relevant to the issue of truth.

1. Amichai Markowitz called my attention to a talmudic text that I overlooked. Nedarim 23b states: “The Tanna has intentionally obscured the law, in order that vows should not be lightly treated.” This relates to the issue of the truth not being made available to all. See also Kovetz Iggerot Hazon Ish, vol. 2, no. 78, that one should not reveal to the masses that the Sages forbade things that the Torah permitted.[22]

2. R. Joseph Ibn Caspi writes that at times it is appropriate for members of the intellectual elite to lie.[23] This explains how Joseph lied to his brothers when he accused them of being spies (Gen. 42:9). In support of this view Ibn Caspi cites both Maimonides and Aristotle.[24] The mention of Maimonides no doubt refers to the latter’s notion of “necessary beliefs”, but it is not clear where Ibn Caspi got his quote from Aristotle, since as far as I can determine Aristotle says no such thing.[25]
3. R. Abraham Arbel writes as follows[26]:
ואם מצא לנכון המגדל עז לשבח חכם כהרמב"ם שלא שקר והיה אמיתי, משמע דפשיטא ליה שגם אצל חכם בדרגתו אפשר למצוא שישקר משום כבודו.
R. Arbel also adds the following passage which I am sure will be very troubling to Frimer (as Frimer rejects the notion that “one sometimes needs to be careful about trusting a Posek”). R. Arbel’s words should be understood in line with the many sources I cite in the last chapter of my book.
וע"ע טהרת ישראל (סי'קפה אות סו) בדין אשה שאמרה שהחכם טהר לה הכתם ועתה מכחיש אותה החכם לומר שלא שאלה אותו, דחישינן שהחכם רואה עתה שטעה שטהר, ובוש לומר שטעה, ולכן משקר עתה לומר שלא שאלה אותו. וכ"כ בהפלאה (קונ'אחרון סי קטו סק"א( שהחכם לא נאמן להכחיש אשה, שאומרת שהחכם טהר, כשהכתם לפנינו והוא טמא, שהרי הוא נוגע בדבר שהרי טעה.
4. R. Ovadiah Yosef stated that if X tells you something he wrote, you can tell others that you read it in X’s book, and this is not considered a lie.[27]
5. In Changing the Immutable, p. 253, I cite a passage from Devarim Rabbah which states that for the sake of peace, even “Scripture itself” recorded something false. I should have also cited Midrash Tanhuma 96:7, which is even more striking, attributing the falsehood directly to God (as opposed to merely speaking of “Scripture”):
ארשב"ג גדול הוא השלום שהכתיב [שכתב] הקב"ה דברים בתורה שלא היו אלא בשביל השלום.
6. Let me offer another example of censorship in halakhic matters, the sort of thing that Frimer claims must be battled against and “uprooted” for the sake of Torah truth.[28] Here is page 141 from R. Yitzhak Zilberstein’s and R. Moshe Rothschild’s Torat ha-Yoledet.

The matter dealt with is whether a husband can be in the delivery room. The authors quote the opinion that if there is a need the husband can be in the room. In note 2, R. Moshe Feinstein, Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah II, no. 75, is quoted as follows:
הנה אם יש צורך, איני רואה איסור. אבל אסור לו להסתכל ביציאת הולד ממש . . .
However, if you look at the actual text of Iggerot Moshe, what he says is something different.
הנה אם יש צורך איני רואה איסור ואף בלא צורך איני רואה איסור, אבל אסור לו להסתכל ביציאת הולד ממש . . .
I have underlined the words that are deleted by Torat ha-Yoledet. This deletion allows them to present R. Moshe Feinstein as saying that only if there is a need for the husband to be in the room can be there. Yet R. Moshe explicitly states that even if there is no “need”, he can still remain with his wife.

I know that there are some who are thinking that I am making a big deal out of nothing, and that it must have been an accident that the words were deleted as that no one would dare to purposely alter what R. Moshe wrote. I am sorry to say that this is not the case. Here are two pages from R. Pesach Eliyahu Falk’s Levushah shel Torah.[29]

From it we see that someone asked R. Zilberstein about the words that were deleted, and R. Zilberstein did not say that they were deleted in error. On the contrary, he tells the questioner that the words were deleted on purpose, after consultation with “gedolei ha-poskim”. In other words, these poskim disagreed with R. Moshe and therefore instructed R. Zilberstein that when he quoted Iggerot Moshe he should censor R. Moshe’s words so that people should not learn the extent of R. Moshe’s lenient view. After all that I have written in my book, I don’t think people will be surprised by this. Frimer, however, who has assured us that this sort of thing is not “mainstream”, and indeed is "forbidden", will have to explain how it is that a respected posek like R. Zilberstein, acting on the instruction of other great poskim, could adopt such an approach, an approach which stands as a refutation of Frimer’s point.
As I have said already, I am not claiming that this sort of distortion is an everyday phenomenon. But I do claim that many poskim believe that they have the authority to alter the truth when they think that this is necessary. We can’t pretend that the texts I have cited don’t exist.
7. In his post Frimer writes: “R. Elijah [ben Samuel] of Lublin  chastises a colleague for lying in a decision, even though his intentions were noble.” I don’t think the word “chastises” is appropriate in this case. R. Elijah disagrees with the other rabbi, but the disagreement is not strident. For example, R. Elijah writes as follows in Yad Eliyahu, no. 62:
ע"ד אשר האריך רום מעלתו בלשונו בשפת אמת להעמיד שפת שקר במקומי אני עומד שאינו כדאי להיות רגיל בכך ואף שמותר בו מאיזה טעם שיהיה.
8. In the next issue of Masorah le-Yosef my article on “necessary beliefs” will appear. In this article I discuss how Maimonides and other figures say things that do not reflect their true opinion, but are merely “necessary beliefs”, i.e., “beliefs” that the masses should accept but which are not really true at all. If these authorities think that the masses can be fed false ideas when it comes to theology, why should halakhah be any different?

9. See R. Mordechai Eliasburg, Shevil ha-Zahav (Warsaw, 1897), p. 27-28, who claims that both Nahmanides and R. Jacob Emden recorded things in their writings that they did not really believe.

10. R. Chaim Sunitzky called my attention to R. Israel Weltz, Divrei Yisrael, vol. 3, no. 170, who doesn't see such a problem with false stories if they lead people in a good direction.

.אין זה נורא כ"כ בספורי מעשיות כאלה כשהכוונה היא לטובה ללמוד ממנה מוסר ודרכי הי"ת
And now for some comic relief. A few weeks ago Ezra Glinter reviewed my book for the Forward. See here.
He used this opportunity to take some hits at the haredi world, focusing on matters that are not mentioned in the book. Rabbi Avi Shafran, who is paid to respond to this sort of thing, penned his own piece for the Forward available here.
The comedy starts in the first two paragraphs which read:
Psst! I’ve got a secret to share. It’s from deep inside the Orthodox Jewish world. Come closer… Okay, here it is: Orthodoxy changes!
It’s not much of a secret, actually. At least in these here parts. But it seems to be an unfamiliar concept for Marc Shapiro, a University of Scranton professor and author of the recent book, “Changing the Immutable: How Orthodox Judaism Rewrites Its History.”
It is obvious that Shafran has never even looked at my book and is only basing his comments on what appears in Glinter’s review. Those who have read the book know that a major theme of it is precisely how Orthodoxy changes. In fact, there is no one in the world today whose scholarship is more associated with the thesis that Orthodoxy changes than me. Much of the criticism of me is on precisely this point, that I have exaggerated the amount of change. Yet here Shafran comes and says that I am ignorant about how Orthodoxy changes. This is what I mean by comic relief.
Shafran then writes:
If a biography of Bertrand Russell can choose to elide the great philosopher’s serial marital infidelities and not be accused of rewriting the past, a hagiography of a great rabbi should certainly be permitted to overlook judgments he made with the best of intentions that in retrospect might seem misguided to some today. Such acts of civility are at times portrayed as scandalous by Shapiro and his reviewer.
A biography of Russel that chooses to omit his marital infidelities would indeed be rightly accused of rewriting the past. As for the second part of the sentence, I agree that a hagiography can leave out material of the sort Shafran mentions, but that is because it is a hagiography! If it intended to be a biography, then no, it cannot overlook mistaken judgments made by the subject, or else it ceases to be biography. I also do not think that it is an act of civility to refrain from writing about such mistaken judgments (as for example, R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg’s early misjudgment of the Nazi regime).
Shafran provides a few examples of how practice in Orthodoxy has changed, none of which I disagree with. But then again, my book has nothing to do with this. He writes:
One opinion in the Talmud, for example, permits fowl and milk to be cooked together and eaten. Just try ordering milk-braised chicken in your local kosher eatery these days; they’ll sic the mashgiach on you in a Borough Park moment. Men using mirrors was once forbidden as a “womanly” act, a once-true assessment that, for most Orthodox men today, is no longer considered applicable.
Let us say that a new edition of the Talmud was published that deleted the lines that tell us that one opinion permitted fowl and milk to be cooked and eaten together? Would Shafran be OK with this? I assume not, and it is thus unfortunate that he doesn’t know that it is precisely this sort of censorship that my book is focused on. What we have here is not only criticism without having read the book, but criticism without having any clue as to what the book is about. 
And then, to top off the comic relief, Shafran ends his piece as follows:
“Why is that so hard for Orthodoxy’s critics to understand?”
I have been called some different things in my life, but this is the first time I have been referred to as one of “Orthodoxy’s critics”.

Let me also add that Changing the Immutable has sold very well in the haredi world, and this is not surprising since it is not an anti-haredi book at all.




[1] AAF would like to thank Dov I. Frimer, Shael I. Frimer, David A. Kessler and Joel B. Wolowelsky for their insightful comments and suggestions on previous drafts.
[2] R. Jacob J. Schacter, "Facing the Truths of History," Torah u-Madda Journal, 8 [1998-1999]: pp. 200-273.
[3] Aryeh A. Frimer and Dov I. Frimer, "Women's Prayer Services: Theory and Practice. Part 1 - Theory,” Tradition, 32:2 (Winter 1998), pp. 5-118. PDF available online
here. See in particular Addendum, part 6.
[4] See our discussion in Frimer and Frimer, supra note 3, Section E therein.
[5] R. Moses Schick in Likutei Teshuvot Hatam Sofer, R. Israel Stern, ed. (London, 1965), sec. 82, pp. 73-75; Meir Hildesheimer, “She’eilot u-Teshuvot Maharam Schick,” Tsefunot, 2:2(6) (Tevet 5750), pp. 87-95, at p. 93; Yona Emanuel, “Me’a Shana lePetirat haRav Azriel Hildesheimer Zatsal,” haMa’ayn, XXXIX, 4 (Tammuz 5759), pp. 1-7, “Al Kinus haRabbanim be-Mikhalovitch” pp. 2-4; Michael K. Silber, “The Emergence of Ultra-Orthodoxy: The Invention of a Tradition,” In The Uses of Tradition, Jack Wertheimer, ed. (New York, Jewish Theological Seminary, 1992), p. 23-84; Mordechai Eliav, “Mekomo shel Rav Azriel Hildesheimer be-Ma’avak al Demutah shel Yahadutr Hungariah,” Zion 27 (1962), 59-86; Nethanel Katzburg, “Pesak Din shel Michalovitch 5726,” in Perakim be-Toldot ha-Hevrah ha-Yehudit be-Yemei ha-Beinayim u-be-Et ha-Hadashah, Emanuel Etkes and Yosef Salmon, eds. (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1980), 273-286; Jacob Katz, The Unhealed Breach: The Secession of Orthodox Jewry from the General Community in Hungary and Germany (Hebrew), Jerusalem, 1994 – see especially Chapter 8.
[6] See Frimer and Frimer, supra note 3, Addendum, part 5.
[7]  R. Zvi Hirsch Chajes, Darkei Hora’asiman 6, first footnote,
[8]  R. Chayim Hirschensohn Resp. Malki baKodesh, II, sec. 4, p. 13.
[9] Cited in R. Zvi [Hershel] Schachter, Nefesh haRav (Jerusalem: Reishit Yerushalayyim, 1994), p.178.
[10] R. Jacob Israel Kanievsky, Keraina deIggarta, letter 203, pp. 219-220.
[11] Responsum to Aryeh A. Frimer, dated 7 Shevat 5756 and published in RespMayyim Hayyim, III, sec. 55.
[12] R. Chaim Kanievsky, Masekhet Kutim, 1:14, Me-taher, note 30, and conversation with Aryeh A. Frimer (February 20, 1995),
[13] R. Zelig Epstein, in a conversation with Aryeh A. Frimer and Noach Dear (March 8, 1996). R. Jerucham Fishel Perlau, Commentary to Rav Sa’adia Gaon’s Sefer HaMitzvot, I, p. 156b.
[14] R. Joshua Menahem Mendel Ehrenberg, Resp. Devar Yehoshua, I, addendum to sec. 19, no. 6 (see also V, Y.D. sec 12). See also R. Nahum Yavruv, Niv Sefatayyim (Jerusalem, 1989) Niv Sefatayyim, kelal 1; R. Eliezer Judah Waldenberg, Resp. Tsits Eliezer 15:12:2.
[15] R. Elijah Rogeler, Resp. Yad Eliyahu, sec. 61 and 62
[16] R. Ovadiah Yosef, Resp. Yabia Omer, II, H.M., sec. 3
[17] R. Solomon Sobel, Salma Hadasha, Mahadura Tinyana, Haftarat Toledot; cited in R. Jacob Yehizkiyah Fisch, Titen Emet leYa’akov (Jerusalem, 1982), sec. 5, no. 36.
[18] R. Jacob Ettlinger, Arukh leNer, Yevamot 65b, s.v. she-Ne’emar avikha tsiva” and “Ko tomeru leYosef,” and R. Reuben Margaliot, Kunteres Hasdei Olam, sec. 1061, at the end of his edition of Sefer Hasidim (Mossad haRav Kook: Jerusalem, 5724). See also R. Moses David Maccabbi Leventhal, “Shinui beDevar haShalom,” Zohar, 3 (Spring 5760), pp. 49-64.
[19] R. Yehuda Herzl Henkin, Resp. Benei Vanim, I, sec. 37, no. 12, argues that such misrepresentation most often results in gossip, hate, unlawful leniencies in other areas, hillul Hashem, and a total loss of trust in rabbinic authority should the truth become known. (This despite the fact that R. Y.H. Henkin maintains that when a posek upgrades a prohibition for a just cause, there is no prohibition of either bal Tosif or lying). Similar views are expressed by Resp. Torah liShma, sec. 371; R. Moses Jehiel Weiss, Beit Yehezkel, p. 77; R. Abraham Isaac haKohen Kook, Orah Mishpat, no. 111 (pp. 117-120) and 112 (pp. 120-129); R. Joseph Elijah Henkin, Teshuvot Ivra, sec. 52, no. 3 (in Kitvei haGri Henkin, II); R. Haim David Halevi, responsum to Aryeh A. Frimer, dated 7 Shevat 5756 – published in Resp. Mayyim Hayyim, III, sec.55; and R. David Feinstein, conversation with Aryeh A. Frimer and Dov I. Frimer, March 19, 1995. See also the commentary of Radbaz to M.T., Melakhim 6:3, where even normally permitted lying is forbidden lest it result in hillul Hashem should the truth be discovered. Similarly, in discussing Sanhedrin 29a and the cause of Adam and Eve’s sin, R. Hanokh Zundel, Eits Yosefad loc., s.v. Ma,” comments that one must be particularly careful how a stringency and its rationale are formulated, for if no distinction is drawn between a stringency and the original ordinance, any error found in the stringency may lead the masses to believe that there is an error in the original ordinance itself.
[20] R. Benjamin Lau, “The Challenge of Halakhic Innovation,” Meorot 8 Tishrei 5771, pp 43-57 at pp. 45-46, available online here.
[21] See our discussion in Section E of Frimer and Frimer, supra note 3.
[22] It could be that the Hazon Ish would not be opposed if this information was revealed in a responsible way. I say this since his language is

והבא להכריז בין המון העם כי חכמים גזרו עלינו דברים שהתורה לא אסרתן כונתו ידועה . . . והתוצאות ידועות

(Emphasis added) This might mean that it is only objectionable if someone makes a big deal out of the fact that a certain prohibition is only rabbinic
[23] Mishneh Kesef (Cracow, 1906), vol. 2, to Gen 42:12 (pp. 93-94).
[24] His quote of Aristotle is: נכון לגדול הנפש שיכזכ בהיות זה הכרחי
[25] See Jane S. Zembaty, “Aristotle on Lying,” Journal of the History of Philosophy 31 (1993), pp. 7-29.
[26] Ahoti Kalah (Jerusalem, 2007), p. 149.
[27] Eliyahu Sheetrit, Rabbenu (Jerusalem, 2014), p. 266.
[28] This example, and also R. Falk’s Levushah shel Torah, were called to my attention by R. Yonason Rosman.
[29] (Jerusalem, 2007), vol. 2, pp. 783-784.

ArtScroll and More

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ArtScroll and More
Marc B. Shapiro
In an earlier post here I discussed ArtScroll’s use of a censored talmudic text.[1] This happens quite a bit and it is not always clear if the translators were aware that they were working with an inauthentic text. However, for many passages there is no question that they realize that what they are translating is not authentic but was added because of fear of non-Jewish reaction. Here is a chart someone drew up showing how the various new Talmud editions deal with the matter of censorship.

It is significant that even in the Hebrew ArtScroll the text that is used is censored. ArtScroll has never publicly explained why they have adopted this approach, but I think it is obvious that unlike other publishers, ArtScroll is still worried about creating anti-Semitism and thus continues to print a censored Talmud. While I think everyone agrees that the ArtScroll Talmud translation is a masterpiece, opinions will obviously differ as to whether ArtScroll made a mistake in not restoring the Talmud to its pre-censorship state.[2]
ArtScroll’s approach is different than that of other publishers who are very happy that they can now include the complete uncensored words of the Talmud. Ezra Chwat’s words express the feeling of every publisher other than ArtScroll.[3]
אין צורך להדגיש את החשיבות של הנגשת הסוגיה המקורית לעשרות אלפי הלומדים את הגמרא כפי שיצא מפיהם הקדושים של האמוראים, ושלא יסתפקו ב"גירסא"שאושרה על ידי הכנסייה.
Yet R. Leopold Greenwald had the exact opposite approach, and he was upset when he heard that a new Talmud was being printed that reinserted the censored texts. His words reflect the approach later adopted by ArtScroll [4]:
ומה מאד דאבה נפשנו בראותנו, כי מכריזים גם עכשיו על "המציאה הגדולה", כי בירושלים מדפיסים כעת תלמוד עם כל ההשמטות שהשמיטו הצנזורים במשך מאות שנים. ועל זה אנו קוראים: שקול טובתך! בני ישראל לא ישבעו עונג מהטובה הזאת, לא ספרותנו ולא חכמתנו יתעשרו מהשמטות הללו, לא בזמננו ולא בהדורות שאחרינו. כבר שבענו צרות ומכאובות. ולהיות בפי כל מחבל בודאי אסון הוא. איפוא הם חכמי ירושלים? האם אינם רואים כי מזה לא תושע יהודה וכי צוררי ישראל ישיגו חומר מסוכן חדש?

For those who are unaware of the details, let me just mention that I am not referring to a word here or there that was censored and has not been restored by ArtScroll. Sanhedrin 43a has a number of lines dealing with the execution of Jesus and his disciples. While the entire section is found in Soncino (in translation), Steinsaltz, Wagshal and Oz ve-Hadar, it is not to be found in ArtScroll. Both the English and Hebrew editions of ArtScroll tell the reader that a section has been deleted from the Vilna Shas. However, in Sanhedrin 67a, where another section has been deleted and is found in the other editions just mentioned, ArtScroll does not inform the reader of the deletion. 

An allusion to the Sanhedrin 67a text is found in Va-Avo ha-Yom el ha-Ayin, attributed to R. Jonathan Eybeschuetz. This explosive text, which remained in manuscript for almost three hundred years, has just appeared in print, edited by Pawel Maciejko.[5] Va-Avo ha-Yom el ha-Ayin is very important to understanding the controversy over R. Eybeschuetz. (I hope that the manuscript Gahalei Esh, a treasure trove of documents dealing with eighteenth-century Sabbatianism, will also soon appear in a scholarly edition.) Quite apart from the radical theological notions found in Va-Avo ha-Yom el ha-Ayin, Maciejko describes the work as follows: “[I]t is blatantly pornographic (in fact, it is possibly the only truly pornographic text ever written in the rabbinic idiom.)”[6]
Speaking of pornography let me add the following. Not long ago I was visiting a certain synagogue for Shabbat. When it came time for Torah reading I took out the chumash that was near me. It happened to be the one published by R. Aryeh Kaplan. I actually am not a fan of this chumash for use in synagogue as its focus is entirely philological, and doesn’t deal with any of the issues that a typical person would want explained in reviewing the Torah portion. But this was what I had so I used it. In Exodus 25:22 an unusual word appears: כומז. It means some sort of golden bodily ornament. The word also appears in Numbers 31:50. According to the Exodus passage, this was one of the items the Israelites in the desert donated at the time of the building of the Tabernacle. The passage is Numbers refers to booty taken from the Midianites. Among the different interpretations Kaplan offers for כומז is “a pornographic sculpture.” This is quoted in the name of R. Aaron Alrabi (fifteenth century). I was quite shocked when I saw this and later saw that this interpretation is also quoted by R. Kasher in Torah Shelemah, which must have been where Kaplan saw it.
Alrabi wrote a commentary on Rashi which was published in Constantinople in 1525. In this work, on Exodus 35:22, Alrabi writes:
יראה לי שהוא תכשיט מצוייר צורת רחם האשה כדי שישתוקק רואהו לפועל המשגל והצנועות היו מביאות אותו עליהן בחדריהם לתת תשוקה לבעליהן העין רואה והלב חומד בו, והיה זה לכונה טובה לכן הותרו לשרת בקדש
What this means is that the item in question had a picture of a woman’s private parts. The Israelite women would have their husbands look at it in order to sexually excite them before they had marital relations. Since this pornographic viewing was for a good purpose, it was permitted for these items to be donated for use in building the Tabernacle. Here is the original text.
Those who want to see the book in its entirety can view it here.
I find this explanation quite strange. I don’t know what led Alrabi to his original understanding and why he did not find any of the prior explanations compelling.
Incidentally, one of the other explanations cited by Kaplan is that כומז means a chastity belt. R. Ephraim ben Shimshon (12th-13th centuries) writes[7]:
הכומז היה כלי כמנעול שקושרת האשה פתחה שלא יודעו להם שם אדם, כי אם בעלה לבד, והוא גודר הערוה.
This is how he understands Shabbat 64a which states that כומז means דפוס של בית הרחם. Soncino translates this as “cast of the womb” and ArtScroll translates it the exact same way. Koren translates “a mold [in the shape] of the womb.” In general I would say that disagreeing with these three translations is not a smart thing to do, yet in this case I must do just that. The translations I have cited are incorrect as they do not reflect what the Talmud is saying. בית הרחם in Shabbat 64a does not mean “womb” but rather something else. In order not to cause problems for those with internet filters I won’t spell it out completely, but I think the reader already understands.[8]
Rashi, Exodus 35:22, in summarizing the Talmud leaves no doubt in this matter:
כלי זהב הוא נתון כנגד אותו מקום לאשה
The very text in Shabbat 64a also lets us know that this matter has nothing to do with a “womb”, as immediately following the explanation of דפוס של בית הרחם the Talmud explains that the wordכומז  is an acronym of כאן מקום זימה “here is the place of lewdness”, and there is no issue of lewdness with the womb. ArtScroll itself, in its note on this latter passage, explains the matter well: “The place encased by this ornament is the part of the body which is the focus of lewdness.” In other words, in its commentary ArtScroll tells us that we are not dealing with the womb at all, but with another part of a woman’s anatomy. As such, it was a mistake for ArtScroll in its translation to adopt Soncino’s rendering of כומז as “cast of the womb”.
In his commentary to Berakhot 24a s.v. תכשיטין שבפנים, Rashi explains that a כומז is a chastity belt. From the context of this talmudic passage we see that it also had ornamental significance:
כומז דפוס של בית הרחם שהיו עושין לבנותיהן ונוקבין כותלי בית הרחם כדרך שנוקבין את האזנים ותוחבין אותו כדי שלא יזדקקו להן זכרים
In its commentary, ibid., ArtScroll summarizes Rashi as follows: “The kumaz was an ornament that covered a woman’s private parts.” 
Let me return to Shabbat 64a where כומז is explained as being an acronym for כאן מקום זימה. The Maharal, Gur Aryeh, Ex. 35:11, writes:
מפני שהוקשה להם לרז"ל שאין דרך לשון הקודש לקרא שם מיוחד לדברים שהם ערוה . . . כל דבר ערוה אין הכתוב נותן לו שם מיוחד . . . וכאן למה קרא כומז שם מיוחד אל הכלי הזה שהוא דפוס בית רחם, ולכך דרשו רז"ל שהוא כאן מקום זימה והשתא אין שם מיוחד לכלי זה רק כאילו נקרא כאן זימה.
I don’t understand the Maharal’s point. Just because there are no words in leshon ha-kodesh for sexual organs, why should we assume that there is no name for an item designed to cover a sexual organ?
Returning to the matter of “pornographic viewing” as described by Alrabi, I wonder if this could also have halakhic significance. I mention this only because of the controversy some years ago by an answer given by R. Shlomo Aviner that in a she’at ha-dehak (i.e., there are serious marital sexual issues) it would be permitted for a husband and wife to together view explicit pictures in a book. See here.
The entire conversation with R. Aviner was a set-up, and the anti-Aviner website used it to attack R. Aviner, and portray him as permitting viewing of pornography. Yet it is obvious that he was referring to sexual self-help books (which would have explicit pictures) since he refers to books found in Steimatzky. R. Moses Feinstein had earlier permitted a soon-to-be-married man to read sexual self-help books.[9] There is no indication in R. Feinstein’s responsum that he is also including the viewing of pictures in such books, but I do not know if he would regard this as a problem if the pictures are not of real people but are drawings.
Let us return to the subject of chastity belts. In the Wikipedia entry for “Chastity Belt” one finds the following:
Gregory the Great, Alcuin of York, Bernard of Clairvaux and Nicholas Gorranus all made passing references to 'chastity belts' within their exhortatory and public discourses, but meant this in a figurative or metaphorical sense within their historical context.

The first detailed actual mention of what could be interpreted as "chastity belts" in the West is in Konrad Kyeser von Eichstätt's Bellifortis (1405), which describes the military technology of the era.

As we have seen, Rashi and R. Ephraim are not referring to chastity belts in a metaphorical sense. Thus, their mention of the item is of general historical significance, and Rashi (1040-1105) might be the earliest recorded example of someone referring to a chastity belt. Eric John Dingwall wrote an entire book on the subject of chastity belts entitled The Girdle of Chastity (Scranton, 1959). On p. 14 he writes: “There can be little doubt that the idea of such a device, at least in a somewhat modified form, was current at least as early as the second half of the twelfth century.” He then cites the late twelfth-century Guigemar Epic, written by Marie de France, as a source of this. Yet Rashi’s mention of the chastity belt predates this source by around a century.
See also here where as part of a museum exhibition on chastity belts it states:
Until the 12th century, there are no textual memories related to chastity belts at all (not even any allusions without actually using the term) where the reference is not in a theological or mythological context.
           
This sentence is incorrect, for as we have seen Rashi referred to chastity belts many decades before Marie de France, who is also cited in the museum exhibition as the first one to refer to the item. What we have here is a good example where scholars make judgments based exclusively on their knowledge of medieval Latin, Romance and Germanic literature. Exposure to what appears in medieval Hebrew texts would have caused them to alter these judgments.
Returning to ArtScroll, here is an example where I believe that ArtScroll has printed something that they know is incorrect, but did so in the interest of good Jewish-Gentile relations. I think it is a noteworthy example as it has nothing to do with a censored text, but focuses on the explanation of the Talmud. Avodah Zarah 6a states that according to R. Yishmael it is forbidden to do business with idolaters because of Sunday. Rashi explains that this means that one can never do business with idolaters since one cannot do business with them three days before and three days after their holiday, and this includes the entire seven-day week.
It doesn’t take much imagination to realize what the Talmud is referring to by "Sunday", and in the uncensored text it actually has  נוצרינוצרים or  יום הנוצרי instead of “Sunday”. Yet ArtScroll in its translation states that the Talmud is referring to “Babylonian pagans who observe a sun-worshiping festival every Sunday.” It is true that Meiri states as much.[10] Meiri also claims that when the Talmud uses the word נוצרים it does not mean followers of ישו הנוצרי, but refers to the use of the term in Jeremiah 4:16, which Meiri claims is derived from the word נבוכדנצר.[11] While it is true that R. David Kimhi also sees the word in Jeremiah 4:16 as related to נבוכדנצר, it is Meiri alone who claims that this is also intended when the Talmud refers to נוצרים.   
It is certainly appropriate that ArtScroll cited Meiri’s explanation in a note, but how is it that this is the only explanation cited, when other than Meiri everyone else has assumed, with good reason, that נוצרים refers to Christians? This can only be an example of ArtScroll shading the truth for apologetic reasons. People can debate the appropriateness of this, but there can be no doubt that ArtScroll is not being frank in its presentation here.
In the ArtScroll Hebrew edition it also quotes Meiri and states the that Talmud is not referring to Christians. Yet unlike in the English edition, in the Hebrew ArtScroll there is a note which states: “See Rambam, Hilkhot Avodat Kokhavim 9:4”. If you open up the Mishneh Torah what you find is that the Rambam states:
הנוצרים עובדי עבודה זרה הן ויום ראשון יום אידם הוא
In other words, by referring to the Mishneh Torah after mentioning Meiri, ArtScroll is alerting readers to the fact that the Rambam does not agree with Meiri and believes that the passage in Avodah Zarah 6a indeed refers to Christians. Yet this is never spelled out in ArtScroll, and you need to take their suggestion to consult the Mishneh Torah in order to learn that not everyone agrees that when the Talmud mentions those who make Sunday their holiday that it is referring to Babylonian pagans. (In fact, as already mentioned, only Meiri advocates this position.) Does the average person who learns daf yomi realize this?
In case anyone has any doubts as to what I am saying, please note the following. After referring to Maimonides, the note in the Hebrew ArtScroll calls attention to the Venice edition of the Talmud with Rashi, and to Dikdukei Soferim. Again, only one who examines these sources will learn that they offer an interpretation at odds with Meiri. If you look at the Venice Talmud or Dikdukei Soferim (or even Steinsaltz) you will find that in Avodah Zarah 6a Rashi explains:
נוצרי, ההולך בטעותו של אותו איש שצוה להם לעשות להם יום איד בא'בשבת
In other words, Rashi tells us, just like Maimonides, that when the Talmud refers to those who celebrate נוצרי יום it means the Christians who follow Jesus. 

I find it significant that even in the Hebrew edition ArtScroll feels the need to only allude to the explanation of Rashi and Maimonides, while presenting Meiri's explanation as the standard understanding of the text. ArtScroll certainly knows that this is not the standard understanding, and ArtScroll itself cannot believe that Meiri’s understanding is what the Talmud really means. After all, every other medieval commentator agrees with Rashi and Maimonides. In this case, the only explanation is that ArtScroll is following a long apologetic tradition, which was based on fear of what the non-Jews would say if they knew the true meaning of certain talmudic passages.
Another example of this tendency was called to my attention by R. Moshe Maimon. Ketubot 15a discusses the case of A killing B, when A actually intended to kill another person. In its discussion the Talmud refers to “Canaanites”, which in the current context simply means non-Jews. In fact, in all manuscripts and early printings what appears is not “Canaanites” but “goyim”.[12] “Canaanites” is simply a “correction” of the censor. Yet ArtScroll has a note explaining that “The Canaanites were the pagan people who lived in Eretz Yisrael before the Israelites entered the land.” The implication of this comment is that the halakhah stated in the Talmud was only applicable with the ancient Canaanites but not with regard to other non-Jews. This is false and ArtScroll knows it is false, but it is no different than the “note to reader” found in many seforim that all the halakhot about non-Jews only refer to the pagans in faraway places. In the latter case everyone knew (and knows) that these words are not to be taken seriously, but I would assume that the typical user of the ArtScroll English Talmud does not realize this. It is noteworthy that the ArtScroll Hebrew Talmud does not include the note about the Canaanites.[13]
In 1728, an era in which Jewish-Gentile relations were not the best, R. Jonathan Eybeschuetz printed Tractate Berakhot with many deletions, as this was the only way he was given permission to publish the volume. Here is the title page.
The volume can be found at hebrewbooks.org here. True to form, R. Jacob Emden accused R. Eybeschuetz of being in league with the bishop of Prague and intent only on making money from his new printing.[14] There was also a lot of controversy about this edition, not only because of the many deletions but even more so because of the instances where the talmudic text was rewritten. While non-Jewish censorship has a long history, this latter practice, of Jews agreeing to rewrite sections of the talmudic text, was a new and more dangerous phenomenon. Other tractates were later printed, but R. Eybeschuetz had nothing to do with them, and in any event the controversy focused on Berakhot as the other tractates simply printed the censored text from the earlier Basel edition, but did not add anything new.[15]
In his recent outstanding study of this episode, which makes use of manuscript sources, Pawel Maciejko writes:
In both academic scholarship and Jewish collective memory, the best-known controversies concerning Rabbi Jonathan Eibeschütz (1690-1764) are those about his kabbalistic tract Va-avo ha-yom el ha-‘ayin . . . and about the allegedly Sabbatean amulets that he distributed to the members of the communities of Metz and Altona, Hamburg, and Wandsbeck in the 1750s. However, during his early years, the most important controversy concerning Eibeschütz was not the dispute surrounding his suspected Sabbateanism and the heterodox writings attributed to him but rather the outrage engendered by his friendly relations with the local Catholic clergy and his alleged involvement in the publication of heavily censored editions of the Pentateuch, the Talmud, and the prayer book. In the eyes of many contemporaries, the damage caused by the appearance of these latter publications vastly overshadowed any harm stemming from the heretical views expressed in Eibeschütz’s kabbalistic works and amulets.[16]

Maciejko notes that R. Moses Hagiz was so outraged by R. Eybeschuetz’s Talmud that he asked other rabbis to issue a ruling that it be burnt!
Shortly after the publication of R. Eybeschuetz’s Talmud someone wrote a defense of it, explaining why it was necessary to print a censored Talmud.[17] Raphael Kirchheim, who published this document, cites another who states that its author was none other than R. Eybeschuetz, since the author refers to R. Abraham Broda as his teacher.[18] R. Broda had served as rosh yeshiva in Prague, and later rav of Metz and Frankfurt.
While Maciejko also accepts this view,[19] the reference to R. Broda as the author’s teacher, מורי ורבי, would appear to show that R. Eybeschuetz could not have written the letter, since he was not a student of R. Broda.
We have good information about R. Eybeschuetz’s life, but there still is a lot we don’t know. Even though R. Eybeschuetz is not recorded as R. Broda’s student in the standard biographies, one could claim that it is possible that he studied for a short time under him, and for some reason this fact was not known to the biographers.[20] Yet in this case we can indeed make the definitive statement that R. Eybeschuetz did not study with R. Broda since R. Eybeschuetz tells us this himself. Some thirty years after R. Broda’s death in 1717 his Eshel Avraham was published (Frankfurt, 1747). Here is the title page.
Among those who provided an approbation was R. Eybeschuetz, who at that time was in Metz. His respect for R. Broda is great, but he leaves no doubt that he never studied with him:
ממש רובי חכמי ישראל בדור הזה השלימי'המה שותי מימיו ואף אני אם לא זכיתי לאורו לחזות לרבי מקמא כי בבואי לפראג שנת תע"ל כבר חמק דודי ופנה הודו לכאן ק"ק מיץ היא העיר אשר כעת אני יושב בה בתוך עמי, מ"מ נפתולי נפתלתי עם גדולי תלמידיו הרבני'וחכמי'מובהקים ושלימים במדע אשר נשארו שם ושמעתי'תמיד בבי מדרשי'בדיבוק חברי'
Returning to the document published by Kirchheim, it describes the history of the banning of the Talmud in the years before R. Eybeschuetz printed his volume. Interestingly, it tells about the confiscation of Jewish books from the Jews of Prague, which were then handed over to the Jesuits to be examined for anything against Christianity. From other sources we know that the Jesuits burnt the copies of the Talmud they confiscated, and “[i]n the 10 years from 1715 to 1725, very few copies (according to some sources, none) of the Talmud existed in Bohemia.”[21]
This need for copies of the Talmud explains why R. Eybeschuetz had to take the step he did. The document also tells of the punishment of a man from Nikolsburg who was caught smuggling Talmuds into the Prague ghetto. He was forced, in chains, to clean the streets for a year. The smuggled Talmuds were supposed to be burnt, but this was somehow prevented (probably with a good bribe).
The only way to print a Talmud in Prague was to remove everything the Jesuits viewed as offensive to Christianity. They also viewed certain aggadot as objectionable, such as the description of God wearing tefillin in Berakhot 6a, and these too had to be removed.[22] The document tells us that having the Church agree to publication of the Talmud, even with these restrictions, was regarded as a great achievement. It also tells us that all the important rabbis in Prague permitted the publication of the bowdlerized Talmud.[23]
וכאשר הגיעו לידינו רשימה אספנו להגאון מורנו ורבנו האב"ד ור"י נר"ו בצירוף כל חכמי רבינו [!] עירנו אשר ת"ל המה גדולים בחכמה ובמנין וטבעם יצא בכל ארץ לעיון במילין אם כשר ונאות לעשות כן אם לא ואחר הלנת דין פעמים ושלש ומשא ומתן עלתה הסכמה להדפיס מס'ברכות הנודע הגהתן וסדר זרעים אשר לא יחסר בו דבר, אך ממסכת שבת והלאה לא עבר הסכמתן כי לא נודע עדיין טיב הגהות נוצרים בו אם מעט אם רב

The document then quotes a statement issued by the scholars of Prague defending their decision, a statement that was only intended to be viewed by other learned Jews. In justifying their decision to publish a censored Talmud – since this was all they were permitted and it was a censored Talmud or nothing – we find the following very interesting passage:[24] 

ודאי שנכון הדבר לעשות לבלי כושל ועיכוב כלל כי ודאי שניתן הש"ס להצילו באחד מאיבריו ולא יהיה הש"ס חמור מג"ע וש"ד אשר ק"ל יהרג ואל יעבר קימו לן אם מיחדים על אחד ימסר להם ואל יהרגו וכ"ש הדבר בש"ס שבזמן שמיחדים לומר השמיטו דא מאתכם שיהא הנשאר לפליטה שישמיטו זאת ולא יצאו כולם לבית השריפה מבלי שריד באהלינו אהל תורה ובפרט כי חז"ל שיסדו התלמוד לא על זה יסדו להיותו בדפוס גלוי לכל עמים כי אם כתבוהו בכתיבה תמה ומסרו זאת לזרע אמונים להנחיל לבניהם אחריהם לחלקם ביעקב ולהפיץ בישראל.

The last sentence is making the point that there are certain things in the Talmud that should not be published for all to see, as these are the sorts of things that could create great problems with non-Jews. The Prague scholars then state that it is actually a good thing to cut out certain passages from the Talmud. In other words, they are acknowledging that even without Christian demands, it would be best in internally censor certain passages so as to prevent problems from arising. This is exactly what ArtScroll is doing today. No one is forcing them to self-censor, but they see matters as the sages of Prague who wrote (emphasis added)[25]:

וזה לערך ר'שנה שהחל להתפשט ספרינו בדפוס לתקנות אחינו למען יהיו להם הספרים בנקל ומצוי, אמנם בדברים כאלו תקנתם קלקלתם שגורמים סכנה לכל ספריהם ומטילים איבת הנוצרים עלינו ודאי ראוים שדברים אלו יהיו חוזרים לאיתנם הראשון מבלי לחוקקם בעט ברזל ועופרת.

They are not saying that the censored matters should be forgotten about. Rather, they should be only be passed on in a non-published form (“Torah she-Ba’al Peh”) to advanced students who study the Talmud; they should not be put down in print for all to see and thus create a Christian backlash. The sages of Prague make the same point about strange Aggadot that are not to be taken literally and can only be understood by a few, and which have become subject to Christian mockery. These too should be omitted[26] להציל דברי חז"ל. When possible, the Prague sages state, one should not delete an entire passage but simply change certain words. In this way the sense of the passage is not changed for any learned person, but problematic words are removed thus helping to blunt anti-Semitic attacks:[27]

ומכ"ש לשנות הלשון במילות ושמות נרדפים באופן שלא ישתנה הענין פשיטא שמותר

The Prague sages then state that if necessary it is even permitted to alter (i.e., falsify) halakhic rulings that appear in the Talmud in order to prevent anti-Semitism (which obviously could lead to real danger). They note that R. Solomon Luria disagrees but that the accepted practice is not in accord with what he wrote, a point that was later made by R. Moses Feinstein:[28]

דעת מהרש"ל להחמיר אף במקום סכנה. אמנם מעשים בכל יום שמהפכין הדין ומשנין מדרכי השלום בהפקעת הלואה וכדומה ולא שמענו פוצה פה לעולם וכן נראה היפוכו בדברי מהר"ם רבק"ש בש"ע ח"מ סי תכ"ה ודברים המה מועתקים בספרים רבים.

It is interesting that the Prague sages quoted the famous words of R. Moses Rivkes in his commentary to Shulhan Arukh, Hoshen Mishpat 425:5, who responds to a particular anti-Gentile law as follows:
The Rabbis said this in relation to the pagans of their own times only, who worshipped stars and the constellations and did not believe in the Exodus or in creatio ex nihilo. But the people in whose shade we, the people of Israel, are exiled and amongst whom we are dispersed do in fact believe in creatio ex nihilo and in the Exodus and in the main principles of religion, and their whole aim and intent is to the Maker of heaven and earth, as the codifiers have written. .  . . So far, then from our not being forbidden to save them, we are on the contrary obliged to pray for their welfare.[29]
Some, such as Jacob Katz,[30] have seen R. Rivkes’ words as reflecting a new tolerant approach. However, the sages of Prague, who were closer to the time R. Rivkes lived, saw his words as merely designed for non-Jewish eyes and not to be taken seriously by Jews. R. Rivkes’ comment would therefore be no different than the declarations found at the beginning of many seforim that all negative statements about non-Jews are only directed towards pagans but have nothing to do with the Christians of Europe who worship God and allow the Jews to dwell among them.
Unlike what has been described by the Prague sages, Maciejko does not view the "corrections" in R. Eybeschuetz's Talmud as simply defensive. He writes:
Eibeschütz believed that there was no final, fixed, and canonized text of the Talmud. . . . Eibeschütz put himself in the shoes of the ancient sages and saw himself not as expurgating but rather as creating the text of the Talmud.[31]
Maciejko further writes:
Eibeschütz seems to have been the only early modern Jewish author who believed that the talmudic sages needed to be edited for style. For themselves, such changes were only possible thanks to the editorial freedom Eibeschütz granted himself in his “Apology and Answer of the Rabbis Prague”: Eibeschütz considered the talmudic text open and unfinished and therefore felt free to “correct” it even in instances in which he experienced no external pressure from the church or from any other powerbrokers. As for the character of these changes, one thing can be said with certainty: most of them aimed to create a neater and simpler text of the Talmud, one that avoids intricate grammatical constructions or potentially misleading expressions.[32]
It is hard for me to accept that R. Eybeschuetz could have viewed himself as “updating” the Talmud. Yet Maciejko is correct that we are confronted with the fact that R. Eybeschuetz’s Talmud contains linguistic and stylistic changes that were not required by the censor. Unlike Maciejko, I would explain matters in the following way: Since the Talmud was already being published in a censored fashion, with numerous passages deleted or rewritten, R. Eybeschuetz saw no reason not to make other changes that would create a more user-friendly text. However, this has nothing to do with the talmudic text being “open and unfinished” as Maciejko puts it. It wasn’t that he was improving on the original Talmud or seeking to replace it, but since the Talmud he was publishing was already “damaged”, as it were, he did not see a problem making other changes if these changes could be of assistance to the reader. Furthermore, everyone who bought this Talmud knew that it was a she’at ha-dehak publication and that it was only to be used if one had no access to an uncensored text. I have no doubt that R. Eybeschuetz felt the exact same way, and thus I would need more evidence before accepting Maciejko’s theory.
Maciejko makes a further claim that R. Eybeschuetz’s “editing” of the Talmud hints to his secret universalist religious views that are also found in Va-Avo ha-Yom el ha-Ayin. This is a much more provocative claim than what I discussed in the previous paragraph, and I am curious as to what other scholars will have to say about it.
In addition to being given permission to print an expurgated Talmud, the non-Jewish authorities also permitted “strange” aggadic passages to remain if a good explanation could be provided for them. In R. Eybeschuetz’s edition of Berakhot such explanations are found at the back of the volume, and the reader is alerted to them by a note on the talmudic page.[33]
Until Hebrewbooks.org put the Prague edition of Berakhot online, it was a very rare book, and Maciejko knows of only three copies in existence.[34] In 1981 Professor Shnayer Leiman republished R. Eybeschuetz’s explanations to Berakhot.[35]
To be continued


[1] See also Jeremy Brown’s post here and regarding Brown’s post see David Zilberberg’s earlier post here.
[2] Only in the last year or so have I started to examine the ArtScroll Talmud on a regular basis and I am continuously impressed. This has to be one of the most significant Torah publications of the twentieth century. Since that is the case, I don’t see why such effort is being put into producing the new Koren Talmud. While it sometimes has points that do not appear in ArtScroll, I don’t know why anyone would prefer it over ArtScroll. I have had a chance to use both ArtScroll and Koren in reviewing some sugyot in Berakhot with my son, and in my mind ArtScroll always comes out on top. I even found one place where Soncino is to be preferred to Koren (although generally this is not the case). In Berakhot 29a it states: “Corresponding to what were these twenty-four blessings of the Amida prayer of the fast days instituted?” Unlike Soncino, Koren provides no note to this sentence and most people who read it will have no clue what it is talking about since when they look in the siddur they will not find twenty-four blessings in the Amidah on fast days (as they will assume that the fast days referred to are Yom Kippur, Tisha be-Av, etc.). ArtScroll helpfully explains as follows: “On certain public fast days decreed in times of drought, an additional six blessings, enumerated in the Mishnah in Taanis 15a, are added to the eighteen regular blessings of the Shemoneh Esrei, for a total of twenty-four blessings.” I would only add that the proper transliteration of עשרה is esreh, not esrei.
[3] See here where Chwat also posts a page of R. Hananel from the censored Sanhedrin 43a.
[4] See his letter in Moshe Chaim Ephraim Bloch, Heikhal le-Divrei Hazal u-Fitgameihem (New York, 1948), p. 8. For more opposition to publishing the censored talmudic texts, see Eliezer Zvi Zweifel, Saneigor (Warsaw, 1885), pp. 265-266
[5] (Los Angeles, 2014). Regarding the Sanhedrin 67a text, see Maciejko’s English introduction, pp. xlviii-xlix.
[6] P. xix.
[7] Perush ha-Torah (Johannesburg, 1950), p. 69.
[8] David Brodsky also discusses בית הרחם as a synonym for “va--na”. See A Bride Without a Blessing (Tübingen, 2006), pp. 55, 65, 84. In Alcalay’s English-Hebrew dictionary, s.v. va--na, it gives three Hebrew definitions, one of which is .בית הרחם
[9] Iggerot Moshe, Even ha-Ezer 1, no. 102. This appears in the second to last paragraph of the responsum. The last paragraph is where R. Moshe presents his famous view that living in the Land of Israel is not an obligatory mitzvah, a mitzvah hiyuvit, but rather a mitzvah kiyumit.

Here is a good time to cite an email I received from a Lakewood scholar which I think is quite insightful, and relates to the "immodest" title pages I discuss in my recent book. This scholar writes:
There is one comment that I want to make right now regarding the pictures of the topless women that appeared and then disappeared in seforim. In addition to a point that I already once made that perhaps in earlier times the breasts were associated more with breastfeeding than with romance (it certainly was associated with that as well as can be seen from the Song of Songs, but not exclusively as today; perhaps it was more like a woman's hair which can be seen in pictures), I would like to add a stronger point regarding these pictures. 
It would seem to me that before photography when it wasn't possible to produce real live looking pictures, people would be inclined to consider drawing an ערוה. But after the advent of real photographs, one gets the feeling that he is looking at a real image of a woman. It is for this reason, perhaps, that pictures of topless women became taboo. Once photographs began to be associated with ערוה, paintings and drawings followed since they are so similar to photographs. In other words, they became guilty by association. 
If there is any merit to this argument (or speculation) then one can go a step further and say that the advent of color motion pictures which is more alive caused further stringency in this area. A picture of a woman is not that "problematic", but to watch her video is already more like "mingling without a mechitza". Once the women are struck from the videos, it is natural that they should be expunged from the magazines as well. It is worth noting that both the laws outlawing pornography and the invention of photography coincided with one another. It would seem that it wasn't outlawed as long as it was only in the form of a drawing, painting, or sculpture.
While it is true that earlier sources do speak of the sexual nature of breasts (see my post here note 19), I think that my correspondent has put his finger on a very important point. It would appear that breasts were more commonly associated with breastfeeding which meant that it was not problematic to show them in pictures. We even find such a portrayal on two tombstones in the old Sephardic cemetery in Altona. Here are the pictures as they appear in Michael Studemund-Halevy and Gaby Zuern, Zerstoert die Erinnerung Nicht. Der Juedische Friedhof Koenigstrasse in Hamburg (Munich, 2002), p. 109.



There are also a whole series of paintings and sculptures showing the Virgin Mary breastfeeding, obviously showing that this was not regarded as immodest in Christian circles.

The non-sexual nature of breasts also explains Shabbat 13a:

 עולא כי הוי אתי מבי רב הוה מנשק להו לאחוותיה אבי חדייהו

(Perhaps because he found this text so strange, the Hatam Sofer interpreted it allegorically: היה מנשק החכמה. See Hiddushei Hatam Sofer, ad loc.)

In response to the email from the Lakewood scholar, S. commented as follows
Another point which I think needs to be brought up about nude art is just how ubiquitous it was in Europe, statues, frescoes, and title pages in books, etc., very much influenced by Classical culture, which was of utmost importance in European learning and culture. If you're in Venice or Prague or any major city in Europe you can't avoid seeing it. The style of title pages may have changed, as styles do, so it is not surprising that Jewish printing culture changed as well. And eventually these seforim became one, two, and three centuries old and were only seen by individuals. Nudity in art was not ubiquitous in Eretz Yisrael and America, and it is not surprising that we woke up in the 20th century in American and EY and found these things surprising. My point is that it doesn't necessarily have to do with them seeing breasts as sexual or not (what about thighs and bare midriffs? And seforim even depicted nude women bathing in the mikveh.) It is also important to note that in the writing of many great people they refer to specific editions they used, and it is clear that they saw it and neither defaced or said anything about it. So attitudes might be a European city vs. non-European city thing as well.
In an earlier post here I dealt with this picture which appears in the Venice 1574 edition of the Mishneh Torah.




Jacob D. called my attention to Shlomo Zalman Havlin's comment in Yeshurun 29 (2013), p. 791 n. 7. Here Havlin states that when he attended the Chevron yeshiva its library had the Venice 1574 Mishneh Torah, but the yeshiva attempted to keep this edition from students due to the "immodest" picture reproduced above. Havlin also notes that some great rabbis were involved in the publication of this edition of the Mishneh Torah, including R. Menahem Azariah of Fano and R. Moses Provencal.
[10] Meiri to Avodah Zarah p. 4.                
[11] Meiri to Avodah Zarah p. 4, Ta’anit 27b (p. 97). Regarding Meiri’s claim, see Lawrence Zalcman, “Christians, Noserim, and Nebuchadnezzar’s Daughter,” JQR 81 (1991), pp. 411-426. Zalcman argues that Meiri did not just make up his interpretation for apologetic reasons, but was aware of Mandaeans who were known as natzurai and were linked to Nebuchadnezzar.
[12] See Dikdukei Soferim ha-Shalem, ad loc.
[13] The Talmud pages used by ArtScroll in its most recent printings are taken from Oz ve-Hadar’s edition (minus certain notes that appear only in the Oz ve-Hadar Talmuds). This means that ArtScroll omits the Shitah Mekubetzet, citing Meiri’s and R. Jonathan of Lunel’s tolerant comments, which appears in the standard Vilna edition, Bava Kamma 38a and 113a.
[14] Hit’avkut, p. 2a.
[15] See R. Raphael Rabbinovics, Ma’amar al Hadpasat ha-Talmud, ed. Haberman (Jerusalem, 1952), pp.112ff.; David Leib Zuenz, Gedulat Yehonatan (Petrokov, 1930), vol. 1, pp. 12ff.
[16] “The Rabbi and the Jesuit” On Rabbi Jonathan Eibeschütz and Father Franciscus Haselbauer Editing the Talmud,” Jewish Social Studies 10 (Winter 2014), pp. 147-148.
[17] The defense was published in installments in Ha-Magid, May 9, 16, 23, 30, 1877. Sections of the document appear in  Zweifel, Saneigor, pp. 264-265, and in Saul Pinchas Rabinowitz’s edition of H. Graetz, Divrei Yemei Yisrael, vol. 8, p. 464 in the note. The complete document was published in Zuenz, Gedulat Yehonatan, pp. 135ff., but he does not identify its source, leading the reader to assume that he is quoting from a manuscript.
[18] See Ha-Magid, May 9, 1877, pp. 170-171. (The reference to R. Broda as his teacher appears on p. 171.) As we shall see, R. Eybeschuetz had a great deal of respect for R. Broda. Yet R. Jacob Emden's father, the Hakham Zvi, had a different perspective. See Yehezkel Duckesz, Ivah le-Moshav (Cracow, 1903), p. 14.
[19] “The Rabbi and the Jesuit,” p. 166.
[20] S. points out an interesting source which gives an unknown, but presumably true, biographical detail of R. Eybeschuetz's life in the spiritual autobiography of an apostate Jew named Salomon Duitsch, A Short Account of the Wonderful Conversion to Christianity of Solomon Duitsch ... Extracted from the Original Published in the Dutch Language (London 1771).

S. wrote to me as follows:
Prone to mystical visions and ascetic practices like fasting, he was regarded locally as a tzadik, but he eventually became convinced of Christianity. When this became known was forced to divorce his wife. After a period of wandering he ended up in Altona. He still looked Jewish and his issues were unknown there. He writes of meeting and staying the night at R. Eybeschuetz, who was very delighted to host him on account that R. Eybeschuetz was educated and taken care of as an orphan in the house of his great-grandfather in Nikolsburg. This information about a Nikolsburg period in R. Eybeschuetz's life, and who this great-grandfather might be, is not mentioned in the biographies, and is a reminder that much information about people's lives is not necessarily in books.

































[21] Maciejko, p. 150.
[22] For details see ibid., pp. 169ff.
[23] Ha-Magid, May 16, 1874, p. 180.
[24] Ibid., May 23, p. 188.
[25] Ibid.
[26] Ibid., May 30, 1877, p. 199.
[27] Ibid. In my post here I discussed how R. Jehiel Michel Epstein engaged in self-censorship in the Arukh ha-Shulhan in order not to have problems with the non-Jewish authorities. Rabbi Shalom Baum called my attention to Arukh ha Shulhan, Orah Hayyim 480:1, for another example of this. I have underlined the words which any educated reader would understand were not to be taken seriously (since how could contemporary Jews ask God to pour out his wrath on the Babylonians who departed the historical stage over two thousand years ago?):

ואחר ששתו הכוס השלישי נוהגין לומר שפוך חמתך וגו' ולפתוח הדלת כדי לזכור שהוא ליל שמורים ובזכות אמונה זו יבא משיח וישפוך חמתו על הבבליים שחרבו בהמ"ק 

[28] Ha-Magid, May 30, 1877, p. 199. Regarding the views of R. Luria and R. Feinstein, see my Changing the Immutable, p. 42.
[29] I have used the translation in Jacob Katz, Exclusiveness and Tolerance (Oxford, 1961), p. 165.
[30] Ibid., pp. 164ff.
[31] “The Rabbi and the Jesuit,” p. 167.
[32] Ibid., pp. 173-174.
[33] I don’t know why this procedure was not required for the other tractates published in Prague.
[34] “The Rabbi and the Jesuit,” p. 179
[35] Or ha-Mizrah 29 (1981), pp. 418-428. Leiman’s publication remains valuable because of his introduction and notes.

The Seven Nations of Canaan

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                                     THE SEVEN NATIONS OF CANAAN[1]

By Reuven Kimelman
This study deals with the war and the seven Canaanite nations.[2] It complements my previous post on Amalek of March 13, 2014, “The Ethics of the Case of Amalek: An Alternative Reading of the Biblical Data and the Jewish Tradition.“The popular conception in both cases is that the Bible demands their extermination thereby providing a precedent for genocide.[3] The popular reading of the Canaanites filters it through the prism of Deuteronomy. The popular reading of Amalek filters the Torah material through the prism of Saul’s battle against Amalek in the Book of Samuel. In actuality, the biblical data is much more ambiguous making the most destructive comments the exception not the rule as will be evident from a systematic analysis of the Canaanite material in the Bible as was previously done with Amalek.  

            This post will deal with the following seven questions with regard to the nations of Canaan:

a). What are the different biblical approaches to the native nations of Canaan?
b). According to the Bible, what actually happened to them?
c). What is the evidence that the Bible is sensitive to the moral issues involved?
d). How has the Jewish tradition removed the category of the seven nations from its ethical agenda?
e). What is the role of the doctrine of repentance?
f). What is the relevance of the “Sennacherib principle”?
g). How relevant is the category “holy war”?

            With regard to the extermination of the seven nations of Canaan,[4] sometimes called Canaanites sometimes Amorites, the biblical record is also not of one cloth. The clarification of their status in the Bible requires a systematic treatment of all the data book by book. 

Genesis (12:6, 15:16) is aware that the Canaanites were in the land when Abraham arrived and would remain for generations.  From Genesis 38 and the end of The Book of Ruth we learn that from the progeny of Abraham’s great grandson Judah and the Canaanite Tamar will issue King David.Also  Simeon’s son is identified as “Saul the son of a Cannanite women” (Genesis 46:10, Exodus 6:15) without comment.

Exodus (23)’s position on the elimination of the Canaanites (v. 23) is a gradual dispossession by God, not by the Israelites:[5]

27 I will send forth My terror before you, and I will throw into panic all the people among whom you come, and I will make all your enemies turn tail before you. 28 I will send a plague ahead of you, and it shall drive out before you the Hivites, the Canaanites, and the Hittites.[6] 29 I will not drive them out before you in a single year, lest the land become desolate and the wild beasts multiply to your hurt. 30 I will drive them out before you little by little, until you have increased and possess the land.

Leviticus (18) refers to God casting out of the nations:

24 Do not defile yourselves in any of those ways, for it is by such that the nations that I am casting out before you defiled themselves. 25 Thus the land became defiled; and I called it to account for its iniquity, and the land spewed out its inhabitants.

Here there is a coordination between God and land.  The land spews out its inhabitants for defiling it and God expels them.  

Numbers (33) refers to the Israelites deporting the local inhabitants:

51 Speak to the Israelite people and say to them:
When you cross the Jordan into the land of Canaan, 52 you shall dispossess all the inhabitants of the land; you shall destroy all their figured objects; you shall destroy all their molten images, and you shall demolish all their cult places. 53 And you shall take possession of the land and settle in it, for I have assigned the land to you to possess.

It is clear that the issue here is not ethnic but religio-cultural. The fear is that Israel will be ensnared, especially through intermarriage, by the local moral and cultic practices . 

Exodus 34 emphasizes the religious factor:

12b Beware of making a covenant with the inhabitants of the land against which you are advancing, lest they be a snare in your midst. 13 Rather you must tear down their altars, smash their pillars,and cut down their sacred posts; 14 for you must not worship any other God, because the Lord, whose name is Impassioned, is an impassioned God. 15 You must not make a covenant with the inhabitants of the land, for they will lust after their gods and sacrifice to their gods and invite you, and you will eat of their sacrifices. 16 And when you take wives from among their daughters for your sons, their daughters will lust after their gods and will cause your sons to lust after their gods.[7]

Leviticus 18 emphasizes the moral factor:

26 But you must keep My laws and My rules, and you must not do any of those abhorrent things, neither the citizen nor the stranger who resides among you; 27 for all those abhorrent things were done by the people who were in the land before you, and the land became defiled. 28 So let not the land spew you out for defiling it as it spewed out the nation that came before you. 29 All who do any of those abhorrent things—such persons shall be cut off from their people. 30 You shall keep My charge not to engage in any of the abhorrent practices that were carried on before you, and you shall not defile yourselves through them: I the Lord am your God.

Numbers 33 warns Israel against assimilating Canaanite norms lest they share their fate of expulsion. “55 But if you do not dispossess the inhabitants of the land, those whom you allow to remain shall be stings in your eyes and thorns in your sides, and they shall harass you in the land in which you live; 56 so that I will do to you what I planned to do to them.”

            The exception is Deuteronomy 7 which demands total destruction:

1 When the Lord your God brings you to the land that you are about to enter and possess, and He dislodges many nations before you— the Hittites, Girgashites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Hivites, and Jebusites, seven nations much larger than you—2and the Lord your God delivers them to you and you defeat them, you must doom them to destruction: grant them no terms and give them no quarter.

Even according to Deuteronomy the fear is not of their DNA but moral assimilation, for it goes on to say:  “Lest they lead you into doing all the abhorrent things that they have done for their gods and you stand guilty before the Lord your God” (20:18). For Deuteronomy (12:31; 18:9-12), the abhorrent things include child sacrifice.

Strangely, Deuteronomy continues with a provision against intermarriage:

3 You shall not intermarry with them: do not give your daughters to their sons or take their daughters for your sons. 4 For they will turn your children away from Me to worship other gods, and the Lord’s anger will blaze forth against you and He will promptly wipe you out. 5 Instead, this is what you shall do to them: you shall tear down their altars, smash their pillars, cut down their sacred posts, and consign their images to the fire.

Apprehension about intermarriage or coming to terms with an eradicated people is strange unless Deuteronomy is aware that its demand to doom them will not be (or was not) implemented. And, in fact, as we shall see the evidence from Judges 3 is that they did intermarry.

 Alternatively, ḥerem does not entail the elimination of the Canaanites only their isolation, that is, they are to be quarantined. This understanding follows its Semitic cognates where it means to separate, to set aside.[8] The goal is to exclude any intercourse with them. Thus verse 5 only refers to the elimination of their objects of worship not their persons. This opens the possibility that “What we have is a retention of the ... traditional language of ḥerem, but a shift in the direction of its acquiring significance as a metaphor ... for religious fidelity.”[9]

 Even stranger is the description of the confrontation with Sihon king of the Amorites. Within the context of Deuteronomy, one would expect an outright attack when God says to Moses: “See, I give into your power Sihon the Amorite, king of Heshbon, and his land. Begin the occupation: engage him in battle” (2:24). Instead, what does Moses do:

26 Then I sent messengers from the wilderness of Kedemoth to King Sihon of Heshbon with an offer of peace, as follows, 27 “Let me pass through your country. I will keep strictly to the highway, turning off neither to the right nor to the left. 28 What food I eat you will supply for money, and what water I drink you will furnish for money; just let me pass through.”

Sihon rejects the offer and attacks Israel. They are destroyed only in the counterattack.

If there is no evidence for the expulsion of the Canaanites, whence the position of Deuteronomy 7:1-2? It has been speculated that Deuteronomy took “both the expulsion law of Exodus 23:20-33, directed against the inhabitants of Canaan, and the ḥerem(total destruction) law of Exodus 22:19 (“Whoever sacrifices to a God other than the Lord shall be proscribed), directed against the individual Israelite, and fused them into a new law that applies ḥerem to all idolaters, Israelites and non-Israelites alike.”[10] In other words, the ḥerem is not against Canaanites as Canaanites, but idolaters as idolaters. Thus Deuteronomy (13:13-19) imposes the very punishment on Israelite idolaters. The choice of the word ḥerem also promotes a sense of quid pro quod, for, according to Numbers 14:45, the Canaanites and the Amalekites pummeled Israel to Hormah a word which could simply designate a place or also serve as a toponym since adhaḥormah could be rendered “to utter destruction.”[11] The point of the paronomasia is that the Canaanites and the Amalekites got as they gave.

In any case, except for some sources in Joshua (6:21 and chapters 10-11) the later biblical sources follow the earlier biblical books from Exodus to Numbers rather than Deuteronomy. Even the Joshua material raises some questions. According to Joshua 10:33, Joshua totally destroyed the people of Gezer. Yet Joshua 16:10 (like Judges 1:29) states: “They failed to dispossess the Canaanites who dwelt in Gezer; so the Canaanites remained in the midst of Ephraim, as is still the case. But they had to perform forced labor.” In actuality, they stayed there until the reign of Solomon only to be killed off by Pharaoh as noted in I Kings 9:16. Apparently, once the people were defanged by having its army destroyed, they were given quarter.[12] As a subject nation they apparently present no religious threat. In fact, save for the peculiar case of Judges 3:5, the surrounding nations, not the Canaanites, are blamed for Israelite apostasy.[13] In fact, according to Joshua 8:29 and 10:27, the bodies of Canaanite kings hung by Joshua were buried by nightfall just as Deuteronomy 21:23 enjoins. Apparently, Human dignity is inalienable even for Canaanite kings.

The triumphal picture of Joshua is undermined by the facts on the ground. For example, Joshua 11:12 gives the impression that Joshua wiped out all the cities in the area of Hazor and burned them to the ground. Yet the next verse says: “However, all those towns that are still standing on their mounds were not burned down by Israel; it was Hazor alone that Joshua burned down.” In fact, only two other cities were burned -- Jericho and Ai.

Similarly, Joshua 11:23 claims: “Thus Joshua conquered the whole country, just as the Lord had promised Moses,” whereas 13:1 concedes “and very much of the land still remains to be taken possession of.” Even where Israel spread out much of the native population was allowed to remain in their midst, as it says later in the same chapter: “the Israelites failed to dispossess the Geshurites and the Maacathites, and Geshur and Maacath remain among Israel to this day” (13:13). The sparing of the Canaanite population was common. With regard to southern Israel, Joshua 15:63 says: “But the Judites could not dispossess the Jebusites, the inhabitants of Jerusalem; so the Judites dwell with the Jebusites in Jerusalem to this day.” With regard to central Israel, Joshua 16:10 says: “However, they failed to dispossess the Canaanites who dwelt in Gezer; so the Canaanites remained in the midst of Ephraim, as is still the case. But they had to perform forced labor.” And with regard to northern Israel, Joshua 17:12-13 says: “The Manassites could not dispossess [the inhabitants of] these towns, and the Canaanites stubbornly remained in this region. When the Israelites became stronger, they imposed tribute on the Canaanites; but they did not dispossess them.”

Judges 1:27-36 follows suit. It begins:

27 Manasseh did not dispossess [the inhabitants of] Beth-shean and its dependencies, or [of] Taanach and its dependencies, or the inhabitants of Dor and its dependencies, or the inhabitants of Ibleam and its dependencies, or the inhabitants of Megiddo and its dependencies. The Canaanites persisted in dwelling in this region. 28 And when Israel gained the upper hand, they subjected the Canaanites to forced labor; but they did not dispossess them. 29Nor did Ephraim dispossess the Canaanites who inhabited Gezer; so the Canaanites dwelt in their midst at Gezer...

All these sources mention the failure to dispossess the Canaanites, despite the Israelites’ power to do so. No mention is made of any extermination.[14] Joshua 24:13 does mention the expulsion of two kings but without resorting to the sword and bow, a point reiterated in Psalm 44:5. Most remarkable is the story in Judges 4. There it is told that God punished the Israelites by handing them over to Yabin the king of Canaan and Sisera his general. In the divinely commanded revolt against them, God promised to deliver them into the hands of the Israelites not to wipe them out.

Joshua concedes in his farewell address the failure of his policy. The most he can hope is that “The Lord your God Himself will thrust them out on your account and drive them out to make way for you” (Joshua 23:5). In the meantime, they are exhorted to be resolute not “to intermingle with these nations that are left among you. Do not utter the names of their gods or swear by them” (23:7). He them mentions the apprehension of Deuteronomy of intermarriage: “For should you turn away and attach yourselves to the remnant of those nations -- to those that are left among you--and intermarry with the you joining them and they joining you, know for certain that the Lord your God will not continue to drive these nations out before you; they shall become a snare and a trap for you” (23:12-13).

In fact, Judges 3 states that they did intermarry: “The Israelites settled among the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites, and Jebusites; they took their daughters to wife and gave their own daughters to their sons, and they worshiped their gods” (5-6). Intermarriage was likely a factor in the absence of biblical or extra biblical evidence for Israel’s expulsion of the Canaanites. 

The archaeological record confirms that Israel primarily settled in previously unoccupied territory in the central highlands rather than rebuilt towns on destroyed Canaanite cites. In Judges 2, they are threatened with the consequences of not dispossessing them:

1 An angel of the Lord came up from Gilgal to Bochim and said, “I brought you up from Egypt and I took you into the land which I had promised on oath to your fathers. And I said, ‘I will never break My covenant with you. 2 And you, for your part, must make no covenant with the inhabitants of this land; you must tear down their altars.’ But you have not obeyed Me—look what you have done! 3 Therefore, I have resolved not to drive them out before you; they shall become your oppressors, and their gods shall be a snare to you.”
The Israelites not only did not drive out the inhabitants, they concluded treaties with them. Their expulsion by God was contingent upon Israel’s refusal to conclude a treaty with them. Neither took place.

Even at the height of ancient Israelite power under the reign of Solomon there was no move to do away with them only to subject them to forced labor, as I Kings 9 (= 2 Chronicles 8:7-8) states:

20All the people that were left of the Amorites, Hittites, Perizzites, Hivites, and Jebusites who were not of the Israelite stock—21those of their descendants who remained in the land and whom the Israelites were not able to annihilate—of these Solomon made a slave force, as is still the case.[15]

Nonetheless, Uriah the Hittite not only marries Bathsheba but also serves as a trusted officer in David’s army.

            Psalm 106 laments the total failure of the policy. According to it, everything that Joshua warned against, they did and more. Following Deuteronomy 12:31, it also provides the moral basis by documenting the abhorrent behavior of the Canaanites to their own children:

34 They did not destroy the nations as the Lord had commanded them, 35 but mingled with the nations and learned their ways. 36 They worshiped their idols, which became a snare for them. 37 Their own sons and daughters they sacrificed to demons. 38 They shed innocent blood, the blood of their sons and daughters, whom they sacrificed to the idols of Canaan; so the land was polluted with bloodguilt. 39 Thus they became defiled by their acts, debauched through their deeds.[16]

Verses 34-35 attest to the non implementation of the policy of Deuteronomy 20:17-18.

            Remarkably, the Rabbis explain the non implementation through the conversion of the nations: 

R. Samuel bar Nahman began his discourse with the verse: “But if you will not drive out the inhabitants of the Land before you, then shall those that remain of them be as thorns in your eyes and as pricks in your sides” (Numbers 33:55). The Holy One reminded Israel: I said to you, “You shall utterly destroy them: the Hittite and the Amorite” (Deuteronomy 20:17). But you did not do so; for “Rahab the harlot, and her father’s household, and all that she had, did Joshua save alive” (Joshua 6:25). Behold, Jeremiah will spring from the children’s children of Rahab the harlot and will thrust such words into you as will be thorns in your eyes and pricks in your sides.[17]

Irony of ironies, the thorny and prickly issue is no longer the continuity of pagan practices but the pointed prophetic barbs from the progeny of converts.

The tendency to blunt the impact of the seven-nations policy of Deuteronomy is also furthered by two other comments in rabbinic literature. The first contends that Joshua sent three missives before embarking on the conquest of the Land of Israel. The first said: “whoever wants to leave -- may leave;” the second: “whoever wants to make peace -- make peace;” and the third: “whoever wants to make war -- make war.”[18] War was only conducted against those who opted for war.[19]

That war was not waged against those who did not opt for war may be supported by the following verse in Joshua:

When all the kings of the Amorites on the western side of the Jordan, and all the kings of the Canaanites near the Sea, heard how the Lord had dried up the waters of the Jordan for the sake of the Israelites until they crossed over, they lost heart, and no spirit was left in them because of the Israelites (5:1).

No war no killing. Similarly, Joshua 9 mentions that all six nations of Cannaan mobilized for war against Israel as opposed to the Gibeonites who made peace with them. Even though the peace was made under false pretenses, Joshua in chapter 10 honored his “treaty to guarantee their lives” (9:15) by rescuing them from the attack of the five Amorite kings. The treaty here entails security arrangements in exchange for submission.  Also in the beginning of chapter 11 Joshua defeats those nations that had mobilized for war against him. None of these accounts attribute their destruction to their religious depravity, only to their initiation of attack on Israel.[20]

The other rabbinic comment rules that by transplanting and mingling the populations he conquered, the Assyrian king Sennacherib dissolved the national identity of the Canaanite nations in ancient times.[21] Accordingly, Maimonides ruled that all trace of them has vanished.[22] Harav Abraham Kook, former chief rabbi, attained the same goal by limiting the commandment to expel the Canaanites to the generation of Joshua. He writes:

If it were an absolute duty for every Jewish king to conquer all the seven nations, how would David have refrained from doing so? Therefore, in my humble opinion, the original duty rested only on Joshua and his generation. Afterwards, it was only a commandment to realize the inheritance of the land promised to the patriarchs.[23]

Moreover, non-Canaanites captured along with a majority of Canaanites were to be spared just as Canaanites caught with a majority of non-Canaanites were to be spared[24] reducing possibilities of any wholesale slaughter. In fact one commentator contends that the destruction of a city is predicated upon the unanimous opposition to submission to the Israelites for “we cannot impose a death penalty on them (women and children) because of the sin of their fathers and the guilt of their husbands.”[25] Finally, the Maimonidean ruling that all war must be preceded by an overture of peace and that only the nations of Canaan that maintained their abhorrent ways are to be doomed reduced the possibility of any war of total destruction.[26] His position is rooted in the repeated classical rabbinic comment to the verse “Lest they lead you into doing all the abhorrent things that they have done for their gods and you stand guilty before the Lord your God” (20:18) -- “This teaches that if they repent they are not killed.”[27] The assumption is that the Canaanites got special attention not only because of their geography, but also because “they were enmeshed in idolatry more than all the nations of the world.”[28]

Similarly, TheWisdomofSolomon notes that the Israelites did not wipe out the Canaanites “at once, but judging them gradually You gave them space for repentance” (12:10).

The best biblical example of judging Canaanites by their behavior and not by their genes is the case of Rahab of Jericho. Since she acknowledged the God of Israel as “the God of heaven and earth” (Joshua 2:12) and threw her lot in with Israel, she and her household were not only spared but were welcomed “into the midst of Israel” (Joshua 6:25). Rabbinic tradition extended this welcome to marrying Joshua and becoming the progenitor of priests and prophets.[29] Moreover, based on the fact that “The young men . . . went in and brought out Rahab . . . and her brethren . . . all her kindred also” (Joshua 6:23), it was understood that her immediate relatives, and also their relatives totaling many hundreds were also spared.[30] The other salutary example is the Canaanite Tamar who not only trumped Judah morally (see Genesis 38:26), but, according to the genealogy at the end of the Book of Ruth, became the progenitress of King David. The other progenitress was Ruth the Moabite who is linked to Tamar in Ruth 4:12. That behavior or life-style trumps genes explains the permissibility of marrying the captured woman in Deuteronomy 21:10. Having left her previous ways she no longer presents a temptation of apostasy. Rabbinic tradition following suit specifically included a Canaanite as long as she had shed her idolatrous ways.[31]

In the same vein, rabbinic tradition held that the descendants of the Canaanite general Sisera became Torah teachers in Jerusalem,[32] and that Abraham’s servant Eliezer was removed from the category of Canaanite due to his loyalty to Abraham,[33] indeed, deemed his peer in piety,[34] worthy of entering Paradise alive.[35]

In the light of the biblical doctrine of repentance (“For it is not My desire that anyone shall die—declares the Lord God. Repent, therefore, and live!” -- Ezekiel 18:32), it is hard to contemplate an alternative. Such a doctrine does not sit well with the possibility of irredeemable evil. A lesson that Jonah had a hard time learning. According to The Book of Jonah, even Nineveh, the capital of the empire that brought ruin on the lost tribes of Israel and annihilated everything in its path (see Isaiah 37:11), could avert destruction by engaging in repentance. Finally, the evidence that the issue was all along ethical and not ethnic lies in the fact that Abraham was prevented from taking possession of the land in his day “because the iniquity of the Amorites was not yet complete” (Genesis 15:16), whereas his descendants were allowed to take possession because of the “wickedness of these nations” (Deuteronomy 9:4-5).

The midrashic tradition followed the biblical categorization of groups through a combination of ethics and ethnicity. With regard to repentance, the Midrash pointed out that the Torah was given in the third month whose Zodiac symbol is twins to make the point that were Jacob’s twin Esau to repent and convert and study Torah God would accept him.[36] In fact, God looks forward “to  the nations of the world repenting so that He might bring them nigh beneath His wings.”[37] Kindness is also a criterion for inclusion; its absence a criterion for exclusion. The Cannanite Rahab is allowed in for her act of her kindness.[38] Even Egyptians, according to Deuteronomy 23:8b-9, are accepted after three generations apparently for having initially extended kindness to Israel.[39] The case of the Moabite Ruth is exemplary. According to Deuteronomy 23:4-5, Moabites are not allowed into the Congregation of the Lord because of their lack of human decency and hospitality to Israel after the Exodus. In contrast, Ruth is accepted because of her decency and kindness to her Jewish mother-in-law.[40] Her example led to the wholesale exemption of women from the Deuteronomic prohibition.[41]

She in fact is a latter day Tamar. Both Tamar and Ruth are erstwhile barren foreign widows of Israelite men who insinuate themselves into the messianic line through linking up with prominent progenitors of David through a combination of feminine wiles and moral rectitude.

In the same vein, Eliezer’s criterion, according to Genesis 24:14, for incorporating a woman into Abraham’s family was precisely kindness and hospitality to strangers. In fact, the midrash lists ten biblical women of Egyptian, Midianite, Cannanite, Moabite, and Kenite origin whose kindness accounts for their acceptance as converts.[42] As noted, kindness qualifies one for inclusion as its absence qualifies one for exclusion, as the Talmud says, “Anyone who has mercy on people, is presumed to be of our father Abraham’s seed; and anyone who does not have mercy on people, is presumed not to be of our father Abraham’s seed.”[43]  Maimonides follows suit by defining charitableness as “the sign of the righteous person, the seed of Abraham our Father. Indeed if someone is cruel and does not show mercy, there are grounds to suspect his or her lineage.”[44] Obviously, Abrahamic lineage has also an ethical DNA marker. 

            In sum, there are basically four strategies for removing the seven-nations ruling from the post-biblical ethical agenda and vitiating it as a precedent for contemporary practice:

1. The recognition that the mandate for their extermination was a minority position in the Bible, significantly limited to Deuteronomy 7:1-2, and was only thought to be partially implemented in parts of the Book of Joshua.
2. The realization that since the threat was posed by their religion and ethics a change in them brings about a change in their status.
3. The limitation of the jurisdiction of the ruling to the conditions of ancient Canaan at the time of Joshua.
4. The application of the “Sennacherib principle” that holds that under the Assyrian empire conquered peoples lost their national identity.

 These four stratagems of the biblical and post-biblical exegetical tradition mitigate if not undermind the ruling regarding the destruction of the Canaanites. In both cases, ethics end up trumping genealogy. This understanding helps account for the absence of any drive to exterminate or dispossess the seven nations even when Israel was at the height of its power under the reigns of David and Solomon. 

                                                Postscript
According to John Yoder’s When War Is Unjust, holy wars differ from just wars in the following five respects:

1. holy wars are validated by a transcendent cause;
2. the cause is known by revelation;
3. the adversary has no rights;   
4. the criterion of last resort need not apply;
5. it need not be “winnable.”[45]

This study illustrates how the antidotes to 3-5 were woven into the ethical fabric of the biblical wars of destruction. In most cases the resort to war even against the Canaanites was only pursuant to overtures of peace or in counterattack, and even the chances of success against Midian were weighed by the Urim and Tumim. It is therefore not surprising that the expression “holy war” is absent not only from the Bible but also from the subsequent Jewish ethical and military lexicon.[46]


[1] For a survey of alternative ways of dealing with the history of the problem outside of Jewish exegesis, see Ed Noort, “War in the Book of Joshua: History or Theology,”Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Yearbook: Visions of Peace and Tales of War (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2010), pp. 69-86, at 72-76. For an assemblage of material on ḥerem, see P. D. Stern, The Biblical Herem: A Window on Israel’s Religious Experience, Brown Judaic Studies 211; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1991.
[2] For the whole subject of  war in the Bible, see Charles Trimm, “Recent Research on Warfare in the Old Testament,” CurrentsinBiblicalResearch 10 (2012), pp. 171-216.
[3] On the practice of genocide in antiquity, see Louis Feldman, “Remember Amalek!”: Vengeance, Zealotry, and Group Destruction in the Bible according to Philo, Pseudo-Philo, and Josephus, (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 2004), pp. 2-6.
[4] Sources differ on the number. For seven, see Deuteronomy 7:1, Joshua 3:10, 24:11. For six, see Exodus 3:8, 17; 23:23, 33:2, etc. For five, see Exodus 13:5, 1 Kings 9:20, 2 Chronicles 8:7. For three, see Exodus 23:28. The most comprehensive list is Genesis 15:19-20 with ten.
[5] The Septuagintand Pseudo-Jonathan have, in Exodus 33:2, the angel expelling them.
[6] This is apparently behind the historical recollection of Psalm 4:2.
[7] See 23:32, 33:2.
[8] See Baruch Levine, Numbers 1-20 (AB 4a) (New York: Doubleday, 1993), p. 446f.,with Leviticus 27:28, and Ezekiel 44:29.
[9]  R. W. L. Moberly, “Toward an Interpretation of the Shema,” ed. Christopher Seitz and Kathryn Greene-McCreight, Theological Exegesis: Essays in Honor of Brevard S. Childs (Grand Rapids, MI: W.B. Eerdmans, 1999), pp. 124-144, at 136. For an expansion of this metaphor thesis, see Nathan MacDonald, Deuteronomy and the Meaning of “Monotheism”, (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003), pp. 108-123.
[10] Jacob Milgrom, Numbers, The JPS Torah Commentary (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1990), p. 429; see idem, Leviticus (AB 3) ( New York: Doubleday, 1991-2001) 3:2419. Alternatively, see Ziony Zevit, “The Search for Violence in Israelite Culture and in the Bible,”
eds. David Bernat and Jonathen Klawans, Religion and Violence: The Biblical Heritage (Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2007), pp. 16-37, at 25, and 31.
[11] Baruch Levine, Numbers 1-20 (AB 4a) (New York: Doubleday, 1993), p. 372; see TargumJonathan, ad loc. Similarly, the last word of Numbers 21:3 can be rendered as Hormah or “Destruction;” see Milgrom, ibid., Numbers, pp.172, 456-48. According to Judges1:17, Hormah was destroyed later; see Tigay, Deuteronomy, p. 348, n. 121.
[12] See Yehezkel Kaufmann, Sefer Yehoshua (Jerusalem: Kiryat Sefer,1959), pp. 146-47.
[13] See Yehezkel Kaufmann, The Religion of Israel: From Its Beginnings to the Babylonian Exile (New York: Schocken,1960), p. 248. With regard to Judges 3:5-6, see ibid., n. 4.
14] Judges 11:23, Psalm 44:3, 80:8b, 2 Chronicles 20:7, FourthEzra 1:21, andThe TestamentofMoses 12:8 mention only dispossession.
[15] For the presence of Canaanites in King David’s administration, see the chapter “King David’s Scribe and High Officialdom of the United Monarchy of Israel,” in Benjamin Mazar, The Early Biblical Period: Historical Studies, eds. Shmuel Aḥituv and Baruch A. Levine, Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1986.
[16] The prophetic harangue against Canaanite practices focused on their abhorrent behavior to their children; see Isaiah 57:5; Jeremiah  2:23; 3:24; 7:31-32; 19:5-6, 11; 32:35; Ezekiel 16:20-21; 20:25-26, 30-31; 23:36-39. According to Deuteronomy (12:31; 18:9-12) such practices include child sacrifice. TheWisdomofSolomon(12:5-6) extends this to slaughtering children and feasting on human flesh and blood.
[17] Pesiqta de-Rav Kahana13.5, ed. Mandelbaum, 1:228f.
[18] Leviticus Rabbah 17.6; see DeuteronomyRabbah 5.13-14; P. T. Sheviit 6.1, 36c; and Maimonides, “Laws of Kings and Their Wars,” 6.5. According to the midrash, the Girgashites took up Joshua’s offer and settled in Africa. Accordingly, there is no mention of their defeat in the conquest narratives of Joshua 6-12, albeit they are listed in Joshua 24:11 among the seven nations handed over to Joshua.
[19] See SifreiDeuteronomy 200, ed. Finkelstein, p. 237, l. 10. This refers to the thirty-one kings of Canaan whose defeat is narrated in Joshua 12
[20] See Lawson Stone, “Ethical and Apologetic Tendencies in the Redaction of the Book of Joshua,” CBQ 53 (1991), pp. 25-36.
[21] See M. Yadayim4:4, T. Yadayim 2:17 (ed. Zuckermandel, p. 683), T. Qiddushin5:4 B. T. Berakhot 28a, B. T. Yoma 54a, with OṣarHa-Posqim, EvenHa-Ezer 4.
[22] MishnehTorah, “Laws of Kings and Their Wars,” 5.4; “Laws of Prohibited Relations,” 12.25. See idem, TheBookofCommandments #187: “They [Amalek(?) and the seven nations] were finished off and destroyed in the days of David. Those that survived were dispersed and assimilated into the nations so that no root of them remained.”
[23] Abraham Kook, Tov Ro’i (Jerusalem 5760), p. 22.
[24] See SifreiDeuteronomy 200, ed. Finkelstein, p. 237, with n. 10; and Joseph Babad, Minḥat Ḥinukh to Sefer Ha-Ḥinukh, mitzvah #527,
[25] Yaakov Zvi Mecklenburg, Ha-KtavVe-Ha-Kabbalah (New York: Om Publishing Co., 1946), p. 52a, to Deuteronomy 20:16.
[26] “Laws of Kings and Their Wars,” 6.1,4; see LeḥemMishnah ad loc.; and Shlomoh Goren, MeishivMilḥamah, 3 vols. (Jerusalem: Ha-idrah Rabbah, 1986), 3:361-366.
[27] SifreiDeuteronomy202, T. Sotah  8:7, B. T. Sotah 35b with Tosafot, s.v., lerabot
[28] See SifreiDeuteronomy 60, ed. Finkelstein, p. 125, lines 11-12, with n. 12.
[29]See Sifrei Numbers 78, ed. Horovitz, p. 74; SifreiZutta, ed. Horovitz, p. 263; MidrashRuthRabbah 2.1; PesiktaDe-RavKahana 13. 5, 12, ed. Mandelbaum, 1:228, 237; and YalqutShimoni, Joshua 9, Nevi’im Rishonim, ed. Heyman-Shiloni (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1999), p. 16f., n. 4f.,  along with Michael Fishbane, The JPS Bible Commentary Haftarot (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 2002), p. 232, n. 11; p. 482, n. 11.
[30] See Ruth Rabbah 2:1 and parallels.
[31] SifreiDeuteronomy211; see B. T. Sotah 35b and Tosafot, s.v. lerabot.
[32] B. T. Gittin57b, B. T. Sanhedrin 96b, MidrashPsalms1.18.  Sennacherib got a similar comeuppance (ibid.), while the Moabite king Balak became the progenitor of Ruth; see B. T. Sotah 47a with parallels.
[33] See GenesisRabbah 60.7, p. 647; and LeviticusRabbah 17.5, p. 383.
[34] BeitHa-Midrash, ed. Jellinek, 6:79.
[35] DerekhEretsZutta1.18, ed. Sperber, p. 20.
[36] PesiktaDe-RavKahana 12.20, ed. Mandelbaum, 1:218.
[37] SongRabbah5.16.5, and NumbersRabbah 1.10 (middle).
[38] See Joshua 2:2 with PesiktaDe-RavKahana 13.4, ed. Mandelbaum, 1:227.
[39] See Rashi ad loc., and Philo, OntheVirtues, 106-108.
[40] See Ruth 2:11-12, 3:10. R. Zeira (RuthRabbah 2:14) attributes the composition of The Book of Ruth to its acts of kindness.
[41] B. T. Yevamot77a; See M. Yevamot 9:3; SifreiDeuteronomy 249, ed. Finkelstein, p. 277, and parallels.
[42] See YalqutShimoni, Joshua 9, Nevi’im Rishonim, ed. Heyman-Shiloni (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1999), p. 17, line 15.
[43] B. T. Beṣah32b.
[44] Mishneh Torah,“Gifts to the Needy,” 10:1-2.
[45] John Howard Yoder, When War Is Unjust: Being Honest in Just-war thinking(Minneapolis: Ausburg Pub. House, 1984), p. 26f.
[46] This point is even conceded by Reuven Firestone in the Preface to his book titled HolyWarinJudaism, New York: Oxford University Press, 2012. The biblical “wars of God” (Numbers 21:14; I Samuel 17:47, 18:17, 25:28) are simply battles fought by the people of God. Although Maimonides (“Laws of Kings and Their Wars,” 4:10) does take them as wars fought for God in the sense that they are fought to promote God’s unity or to sanctify the Name, he does not categorize them as commanded wars; see Gerald Blidstein, “Holy War in Maimonidean Law,” in PerspectivesonMaimonides: PhilosophicalandHistoricalIssues, ed. Joel Kraemer (The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 1991), pp. 209-220, esp. 220, n. 33. Nonetheless, there is no case in the Bible of a war for spreading the Israelite religion to foreigners or compelling then to accept it nor is there an example of wars of conquest being dubbed holy even when booty is dedicated to God. For the insinuation of “holy war” into Protestant, primarily German, biblical scholarship based on the model of the Islamic Jihad, see Ben Ollenburger’s Introduction to Gerhard von Rad, Holy War in Ancient Israel(Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdman’s Publishing Company, 1991), pp. 1-33; and John Wood, Perspectives on War in the Bible (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1998), p. 16 with note. 

Mezuzah Revisited. Parshat Vaetchanan.

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Mezuzah Revisited. Parshat Vaetchanan.
By Chaim Sunitsky.

Rashi on this Parsha (Devarim 6:9) says that since the word Mezuzot is written without the Vav[1], only one Mezuzah is necessary. It’s generally assumed that Rashi can’t argue with a clear Talmudic statement that every door of the house needs a Mezuzah[2] and therefore he can’t be understood at face value. However the custom in many places in Medieval Europe had always been to only affix one Mezuzah per house[3]. We will now try to examine if indeed there ever was a tradition that supported this minhag.

The Rema makes a unique statement in Yoreh Deah (287:2): “The commonly spread minhag in these countries is to attach only one Mezuzah per house and they have nothing to rely on”. This statement is very unusual. Rema is known for supporting Jewish minhagim and it’s very common for him to use the expression “common minhag” often followed by a statement that this minhagshould not be changed, or at least that this minhag can be relied on. Here however the Rema is saying just the opposite: the minhag has nothing to rely on and a “yere Shamaim” person should affix the Mezuzot on every entrance.

It’s hard to understand how this incorrect “minhag” could have possibly become wide spread. R. Yissachar Dov Eilenburg[4](the author of Beer Sheva on the Talmud) suggested that this mistake became widespread due to incorrect understanding of our Rashi. However I find it strange if the previous minhag was to affix a Mezuzah on every doorpost, how would it change in many countries simply because they misunderstood the Rashi’s Torah commentary[5]. As for the correct understanding of Rashi, two possibilities were offered: either Rashi is saying that we don’t have to affix two Mezuzot on each doorpost[6], or that Rashi is following the opinion of R. Meir that if an entrance has only one doorpost on the right, there is a need to affix Mezuzah (despite the lack of second doorpost[7]). As for Rashi’s actual drasha[8]we don’t see it in any known source in Hazal[9].

In general there was[10] some attempt to explain the custom of affixing only one Mezuzah based on the fact that many of the inside rooms in their houses were not clean enough, but this does not explain what people relied on when the house itself had more than one entrance[11]. However Rashi[12]on our Gemorah brings an interpretation according to which if a house has exactly two entrances, it needs only one Mezuzah on the more commonly used entrance, since the other entrance is batela (is unimportant) compared to the first one. Only if the house has more than two entrances then we don’t say that two entrances are batelim to the one commonly used entrance. Maybe then Rashi on the Chumash is following his shita and saying that a house (or room) with two entrances requires only one Mezuzah. Interestingly, in Yerushalmi[13]there is even a stronger statement that seems to imply that only one entrance per house requires a Mezuzah:

בית שיש לו שני פתחים נותן ברגיל היו שניהן רגילין נותן בחזית היו שניהן חזית נותן על איזה מהן שירצה

The simple meaning of Yerushlamiseems to contradict the Talmud Bavli and imply that only the entrance that’s used more often needs the Mezuzah. If he uses both entrances equally, then the Mezuzah is affixed to the “stronger” entrance and is they are equally strong, one can affix the Mezuzah on either entrance.

To conclude we seem to have found a possible explanation of Rashi according to the simple meaning of his words[14] and a possible justification for the old minhag in Europe[15]. Needless to say our words are only theoretical and Baruch Hashem that minhag has disappeared a long time ago and every Orthodox Jew today affixes a Mezuzah on every entrance.




[1] Apparently Rashi implies that Mezuzot is written without the second Vav and can be read as Mezuzat. Our scrolls written according the Mesorah, Rambam (Sefer Torah2:6), Semag (Asin 22) and Minhat Shai have the first Vav between two Zain’s missing, but Leningrad scroll (used on Bar Ilan disk) in fact has the second Vav missing. It’s also possible that Rashi meant that as long as some Vav is missing we can “transfer” the missing Vav to the last position and thus read the word as Mezuzat. See also Minhat Shai, Shemot 12:7. Interestingly the famous statement of the GR”A that there are 64 different Tefilins one would need to put on to fulfil all opinions does not consider the various opinions about how to write various words like “mezuzot”, “totafot”, which would bring the numbers of different Tefillins to hundreds.
[2] See for instance Menachot 34a.
[3] In this article we only discuss if there is any justification for the custom of affixing one Mezuzah on one’s home. See however Semag (Asin 3) that there were some people in Spain who did not affix Mezuzot at all, and see there in Asin23 some weird “justification” they used for their “minhag”.
[4] In his super-commentary on Rashi called Tzeda Lederch and his “Beer Maim Chaim” usually printed in the end of Beer Sheva.
[5]  To say nothing about the fact that Halacha is rarely learned from a Torah commentary as Rashi does not “pasken” there.
[6] In Yalkut Shimoni on Mishley (remez 943) indeed there is an opinion that each of the doorposts requires two Mezuzot, but our Gemorah (Menachot34a) does not hold like this opinion and does not even mention it (see also Shu”t Minchat Yitzchak 1:9).
[7] Obviously the Biblical word Mezuzah means not the parchment but the pole itself, so one Mezuzah in Rashi means one doorpost.
[8] Which Rabeinu Bahya quotes as words of Razal.
[9] See however Mordachai(962) who brings in the name of Rif that R. Meir and Rabonan who argue about the above law apparently learn from the spelling of Mezuzot. It may be according to this girsa, not found in our Rif, R. Meir had no Vav and Rabonan had a Vav in the word “Mezuzot” in Devarim 6:9. The Talmud mentions that R. Meir was a scribe and it’s possible he had some especially accurate scrolls that were different from the more commonly used ones (his “Torah scroll” is mentioned in Midrashim, see for instance Bereshit Rabbah 94:9). Our Gemora however only mentions the learning from “Mezuzot” with the Vav to support the shita of Rabonan (see also the first Tosafoton 34a).
[10]See Maharil, Minhagim, Laws of Mezuzah, 1 and Tshuvot 94 . In practice the Maharil and Rema did not accept these explanations.
[11] See also Shu”t Divrey Yatziv Yore Deah 191 who proposes that maybe only the Mezuzah on the outside doorpost is a Biblical command, but the question of a house with two entrances still remains.
[12]Menachot 33a starting with words Holech Achar Haragil and 34a starting with words Af Al Gav Deragil Beechad.
[13] The end of Megila, 34a (see however second perek of Tractate Mezuzah, in Vilna Shas it’s printed at the end of the volume with Avoda Zara). Even if our interpretation off the Yerushalmi is correct, if the house has many rooms, it would seem to need a Mezuzah for each one even according to Yerushalmi.
[14] In Sefer Zechor Leavraham on Rashi in Likutim in the back the author also interprets Rashi to mean only one Mezuza is needed. He proposes that Rashi quotes a lost Midrash similar to the one preserved in Yalkut Shimoni I quoted above. According to the author the dispute there is not whether the Mezuzah is placed on both sides of one entrance but whether there is a need for a Mezuzah on every entrance of the house.
[15] It’s known that many European communities started in Italy, where Yerushalmi was often followed to a greater extent than Bavli and therefore it’s possible that the earliest settlers in France and Germany were told only to affix one Mezuzah on the main entrance leading to the street. Regarding inside rooms, maybe they did not have any since simple houses had only one room in those times or maybe they relied on some of the weak reasons mentioned in Maharil (who rejects them) but regarding the outside doors if there are only two they may have followed Rashi and if some of their houses had more than two entrances they may have followed Yerushalmi or some other lost opinion (partially preserved in the Yalkut Shimoni).   

Mishloah Manot: An Insight of the Rav zt"l

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Mishloah Manot: An Insight of the Rav zt"l

By Nathaniel Helfgot
Rabbi Helfgot is Chair of the Dept. of Torah SheBaal Peh at SAR High School and rabbi of Congregation Netivot Shalom in Teaneck, NJ. He has served as editor of Or-Hamizrach and associate editor of The Meorot Journal. He has written and edited a number of sefarim and volumes including  Divrei Berakha U-Moed: Iyunim Be-Nosei Berakhot U-Moadim (Yeshivat Har Etzion, 2002),  Community, CovenThe YCT ant and Commitment: Selected Letters and Communications of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (Toras HoRav Foundation, 2005), The YCT Rabbinical School Companion to Sefer Shmuel  (Ben-Yehuda Press, 2006), Mikra and Meaning: Studies in Bible and Its Interpretation (Maggid Publishers, 2012), Al Saf Ha-Aretz (Maggid Publishers, 2014)
One of the abiding contributions of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik , the Rav zt"l, to halakhic thought was the introduction of the notion that there exists a category of mitzvot that though expressed in external action (maaseh ha-miztvah) is geared to fulfillment in the inner recesses of the heart and soul (kiyum she-ba-Lev). The external act is meant to engender and lead or in other instances to be a concrete expression of an inner emotional experience. Most famously the Rav developed these notions in relationship to the areas of aveilut, simchat yom tov and the experience tefillah and  teshuvah.  Rabbi Reuven Ziegler has noted that the Rav himself, (or in citations by students) used this distinction in print in relation to fifteen distinct mitzvot[1].

I would like to add one more to the list based on two unpublished letters of the Rav. In the year 2000 when I was deep into my research on the letters of the Rav zt"l for the volume that would be published in 2005 entitled Community, Covenant and Commitment : Selected Letters and Communications of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik )Toras HaRav Foundation-Ktav, 2005), I received copies of a number of letters that the Rav sent to Mr. Aaron Schreiber z"l in the mid 1950's and early 1960's.[2]  Mr. Schreiber z"l was a resident of the West Side of Manhattan and an active and devoted member of  the Rav's celebrated weekly Talmud shiur for the general community held each Tuesday night at the Moriah Shul on West 80th street from  1952 through early 1980. The short letters were notes of good wishes and greetings for Rosh Hashanah and other events and thus not published in the volume mentioned above.

In two of these letters the Rav argued that the mitzvah of משלח מנות  also fell into the paradigm of maaseh ha-mitzva and kiyum she-ba-lev.

Below are the texts of the letters (including the original spellings):

1.                                                                                                             עשרה באדר שני, תשי"ד
                                                                                                                March 14, 1954
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Schreiber:
Thank you so much for the beautiful  basket of fruit which you sent us for Purim. We appreciate greatly the thought behind your kind gesture. As an attentive and intelligent participant in our weekly class, Mr. Schreiber, you certainly recall my remark about a unique group of mitzvoth which display a dual aspect; the technical performance asserts itself in a physical deed whereas the intrinsic content of the mitzvah expresses itself in a state of mind, a thought, a feeling or an emotion.

I believe that the precept of משלח מנות belongs to this category of  dual mitzvoth-the actual sending or giving of the present is an external act, in itself irrelevant, yet the full sublime meaning of it is attained in the manifestation of warm -hearted and sincere friendship. For such sentiments I am always very thankful.  Mrs. Soloveitchik  joins me in wishing you a very happy and joyous Purim.

                                                                       With kindest personal regards, I remain
                                                                       Sincerely yours
                                                                        Joseph Soloveitchik
שמחת פורים וחדות ד'מעוזכם!
2.                                                                                                                                             
                                            יום שני, יג'אדר, זמן קהלה תשט"ו                                                                                
  Dear Mr. Schreiber:
     We received the basket of candy which you sent to us for Purim. Permit me to convey to you and to Mrs. Schreiber our sincerest thanks for remembering us at this time of the year. The Halachah has introduced the  practice of  משלח מנות  as an objective symbol of a subjective feeling, as an expression of a sentiment, as a manifestation of friendship, the greatest of all gifts that human beings can bestow upon each other. As such we cherish your present  and are thankful for it.

                                                                    With kindest personal regards to you and Mrs. Schreiber, I remain
                                                                          Sincerely yours,
                                                                          Joseph Soloveitchik
                    




[1] Majesty and Humility (Urim, 2012) pg. 86-87.
[2] My thanks to his son Mr.  Joel Schreiber for sharing the letters with me at that time.

Waiting Six Hours for Dairy- A Rabbanite Response to Qaraism

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Waiting Six Hours for Dairy- A Rabbanite Response to Qaraism
By Tzvi H. Adams


Qaraites are a Jewish group that began around 760 CE. They rejected the Talmud and rabbinic Judaism and insisted that Jews only observe halacha as expressed in the literal text of the Torah. “Qaraite” means “Scriptualist”. The movement started in Iraq and Persia by Jews who objected to the authority of the leaders of the Babylonian Talmud Academies, the Gaonim. The Gaonim and their successors, the rishonim, are called Rabbanites because of their stance in defending the Talmud and rabbinic laws. 

Scholars have noted that many minhagim began as a response to the Qaraite movement. For example, the recital of במה מדליקיןon Friday evening  after davening [1] was started in the times of the Gaonim to reinforce the rabbinic stance on having fire prepared before Shabbos, in opposition to the Qaraite view that no fire may be present in one’s home on Shabbos [2]. There is evidence that the reading of Pirkei Avos [3] on Shabbos afternoon, which began in Gaonic times, was to emphasize to the Jewish masses that the Oral Law was passed down since Moshe Rabbeinu as stated in the first mishna of Pirkei Avos.


Professor Haym Soloveitchik [4] has argued convincingly that the unique arrangement of Hilchos Shabbos in Rambam’s Mishna Torah was organized specifically with anti-Qaraite intent. Briefly, Rambam’s formulation of the Shabbos laws does not follow a chronological order or any other expected logical order. In his opening chapters, Rambam lays down the following rules: preserving lifesaving overrides the restrictions of Shabbos; only work done on Shabbos itself is forbidden (e.g. shehiyah and hatmanah are allowed); work done by a Gentile upon a Jew’s request is only forbidden by rabbinic law. These three rulings were denied by Qaraites. Rambam is then careful to segregate the Torah laws (di’Oraisas) into one group of chapters (7-12) and all the rabbinic rulings (di’rabbanans) into another set (21-24), with eight chapters separating the two. Soleveitchik argues that this was done to “highlight the very existence and legal force of rabbinic enactments, both of which were denied by the Qaraites”. Finally, Maimonides concludes the laws of Shabbos with an uplifting positive note: the laws of kibbud ve’oneg Shabbos. This further emphasizes the difference between the Qaraite and Rabbanite Shabbos, because Qaraites treated Shabbos “as a day of ascetic retreat and allowed only the barest minimum of eating and sleeping.” Rambam emphasizesאיזההואעינוגזהשאמרוחכמיםשצריךלתקןתבשילשמןביותר, ומשקהמבושם, הכוללשבת  and  [5]אכילתבשרושתייתייןבשבת, עינוגהואלה

With this argument Soloveichik is suggesting that Rambam organized material in Mishna Torah so that the differences between Qaraite and Rabbanite Shabbos are emphasized to the reader. However, Soloveitchik takes matters one step further: He notes that Rambam is the first to define intimacy on Shabbos as oneg Shabbos: תשמישהמיטה, מעונגשבתהוא.  The Talmud only states that intimacy on Shabbos is allowed, but does not elevate this act to the categorization of mitzvasoneg Shabbos. Here, Soloveitchik argues that Rambam actually redefined the Talmudic law for polemical reasons [6]. This is a revolutionary proposition as we are generally under the assumption that the Mishna Torah is a practical summary of the Talmud – as Rambam tells us in his introduction to Mishna Torah [7]. Professor Soloveitchik has opened the door for the understanding that within Mishna Torah there may be Talmudic laws which have been redefined or reformulated for anti-Qaraite reasons.

Waiting After Chicken: Rambam’s Innovation

I would like to suggest that Rambam’s interpretation of meat-milk separation laws was also based on anti-Qaraite socio-political motivation. While some earlier rishonim required waiting between eating beheima meat and eating dairy, Rambam was the first to state that one must wait after eating poultry, as well. (Beheima meat refers to meat from cows, sheep or goats.):


מִי שֶׁאָכַל בָּשָׂר בַּתְּחִלָּה, בֵּין בְּשַׂר בְּהֵמָה בֵּין בְּשַׂר עוֹף--לֹא יֹאכַל אַחֲרָיו חָלָב עַד שֶׁיִּשְׁהֶה בֵּינֵיהֶן כְּדֵי שֵׁעוּר סְעוֹדָה אַחֶרֶת, וְהוּא כְּמוֹ שֵׁשׁ שָׁעוֹת:  מִפְּנֵי הַבָּשָׂר שֶׁלְּבֵין הַשִּׁנַּיִם, שְׁאֵינוּ סָר בְּקִנּוּחַ
רמבם משנה תורה מאכלות אסורות פרק ט'הלכה כז

This contradicts the simple reading of the Gemara Chullin 104b:

 תנאאגראחמוהדרבי אבאעוףוגבינהנאכליןבאפיקורןהואתנילהוהואאמרלהבלאנטילתידיםובלאקינוחהפה

which states plainly that poultry and cheese (even in that order) may been eaten באפיקורן(in one kerchief)) or without concern (לשון הפקר)  even without washing one’s hands or mouth in between their consumption. See, for example, Ritva (Chullin 104b) [8]:

פירש"י שאם אכל זה ובה לאכול זה א"צ לקנח פיו ולא ליטול. ונראה מלשונו אפי'בשאכל בשר עוף בתחילה...

Earlier rishonim who required a long wait between beheimameat and dairy did not require this waiting between poultry and dairy. R. Chananel and R. Yitchak Alfasi required a waiting period only between beheimameat and dairy, but not between poultry and dairy. Rishonim in the years close after Rambam’s lifetime challenged his innovation.

Here are the core lines of the sugya (Chullin 105a) which are most relevant to this discussion:


גופא אמר רב חסדא אכל בשר אסור לאכול גבינה
אמר מר עוקבא אנא להא מלתא חלא בר חמרא לגבי אבא דאילו אבא כי הוה אכיל בשרא האידנא לא הוה אכל גבינה עד למחר עד השתא ואילו אנא בהא סעודתא הוא דלא אכילנא לסעודתא אחריתא אכילנא

R. Chananel comments:


וזהלשוןרבינוחננאלז"ל, ולאמצינומישהתירלאכולגבינהאחרבשרבפחותמעתלעתאלאמרעוקבאדאכלבשרבסעוד'אח'בסעוד'אחרתגבינ'ואמ'עלעצמודבהאמלתאחלאברחמראאנאואיאפשרלהתירבפחו'מזה...ע"כהובאבתוס'הרא"שוחי'הרשב"אחוליןקהע"א))

R. Chananel is not cited in regards to poultry and it can be assumed he is speaking only of red meat. This is more apparent in the words of his disciple R. Yitchak Alfasi (1013 - 1103) who shares his master’s view:

הרי"ףפרקכלהבשר-תנאאגראחמוהדרבי אבאעוףוגבינהנאכליןבאפיקורןוי"א באפיקוליס הואתנילהוהואאמרלהבלאקינוחהפהובלא נטילתידים...ושמעינןמהאדהאידא"רחסדאאכלבשראסורלאכולגבינהדלאשרילמיכלגבינהבתרבשראאלאעדדשהיליהשיעורמהדצריךלסעודתאאחריתידלאאשכחינןמאןדשרילמיכלגבינהבתרבישראבפחותמהאישיעורא

It is clear from the Rif’s discussion of the statement of אגרא that his use of the words בשרand עוףdenote two separate entities. Rif’s requirement to wait דשהיליהשיעורמהדצריךלסעודתא"אחריתי” is only for red meat, not poultry.  Rif moved from North Africa to Spain in 1088 and was recognized there as the leading halachic authority. The psak of R. Chananel and Rif became standard over time in Spain and people waited after red meat before eating dairy; and evidence suggests that they did not wait after poultry. One source is in the Sefer Ittur of R. Yitchak ben Abba Mari (c. 1122 – c. 1193). In his discussion of the view of R. Chananel, Ittur makes clear that for fowl there is no six hour waiting requirement:

 ספרהעיטורשערראשוןהל'הכשרבשרדףיגע"בוהלכתאאלאקינוחהפהלגבינהלבשר. ושהייהלבשרוגבינהועוףוגבינהאצשהייהלבשרוגבינהולאקנוחהפהונטילגבינהובשר.   


Another source is from Meiri (1249-1306) in his Sefer Magen Avos written about 100 years after Rambam’s Mishna Torah. Meiri wrote Magen Avos to defend the customs of Provence against the ridicule and challenge of Spanish rishonim:

 מגןאבותדףיא'הקדמה-ומהשהביאנולסדראופניאלההדבריםשכתבנו...הוא, שאנחנובעירהזאתעירפרפיאגיאקוהחזקנובהרבהמנהגיםהיובידינובירושהמאבותינו... בידחכמיהעירברדש... ורבגבולארץפרובינצה. ועתהמקרובבאוהנהקצתחכמיםמארץספרד... לערערבקצתמנהגינו... וראיתילכתובעלספרמהשנשאתיונתתיעמהםבאלוהמנהגות...

He records the Spanish custom not to wait at all between fowl and milk. He describes how in his time a new generation of Spanish rabbis began to adopt the stringent view of Rambam and begin a new trend:

דףמו'-מט'העניןהתשיעי. עודנשאוונתנואתנובמהשהםנוהגיםלאכולגבינהאחרעוף, ואנומחמיריםעדשישהאשששעותאוחמשכשיעורשביןסעודהלסעודהכדיןהאמורבבשרבהמה....ונמצאכללהדברים, שכלמאכלבשרביןשלבהמהביןשלעוףאינואוכלגבינהאח"כעדשיעברושששעותאוחמש...ויראהלילהקלעודשאףבאכלעוףתחילהאע"פשצריךשהיה, אינוצריךשששעות, אלאכלשסעודהלסעודהאפילובקירובזמןהואילוסילק, ועקר....אלאשהדבריםברוריםכשטתינוואףהםהודושחכמיםהאחרוניםשבגלילותיהםמחמיריםבהונוהגיםכמנהגינווהנאניהדבר

It is clear that the former norm in Spain was to eat cheeses/dairy immediately after poultry with no  kinuach ve’hadacha, like the Ittur indicates was the accepted halacha in that country.

(Is interesting to note Meiri’s own leniency for poultry: ...ויראהלילהקלעודשאףבאכלעוףתחילהאע"פשצריךשהיה, אינוצריךשששעות, אלאכלשסעודהלסעודהאפילובקירובזמןהואילוסילק, ועקר.)


In the two generations following Rambam, the greatest rishonim attacked the Rambam’s reform as it reversed the ruling of the Bavli. Ramban (1194-1270) was the first to challenge Rambam’s alteration:


... אבל הרמב"ן ז"ל כתב דאגרא אפילו עוף ואחר כך גבינה שרא דלישנא הכי משמע דקאמר עוף וגבינה...(ר"ן על הרי"ף חולין דף לז')

R. Aaron Halevi (1230-1300) was next:

...ואפילו הכי שרינן בעוף בלא נטילת ידים משום דקיל דלא מיתסר אלא מדרבנן, ודאי לא שני לן בין עוף ואחר כך גבינה בין גבינה ואחר כך עוף... הוא הדין לקנוח הפה דלא בעינן אפי'בין עוף לגבינה.... ולהוציא קצת מדברי רבי'ז"ל (=הרמב"ם) שפרשו דההיא דאגרא דאמר עוף וגבנה נאכלין באפיקורן דוקא גבינה תחילה ואחר כך עוף... (חידושי רא"ה לחולין דף קד')

However, as Meiri noted, the trend in Spain began to change [9]. Creative ways of reinterpreting the words of אגראwere created to fit this new reform into the Talmud. Tur (1275-1340) YD 89 cites Rambam’s ruling on poultry as if none other exists.

Why did Rambam change the Halacha?  Perhaps it was an anti-Qaraite measure. By extending the waiting requirement to include poultry, the divide between Rabbanites and Qaraites became more apparent. Rabbanite Jews who followed Rambam’s ruling could participate in only a limited way at a multicourse Qaraite meal which included poultry and dairy.

Waiting 6 Hours- R. Chananel’s Innovation

Until R. Chananel’s time, waiting between meat and milk was not considered mandatory by halachic authorities. One could choose instead to perform kinuach ve’hadacha - clean out one’s mouth and rinse one’s hands, if they were soiled from meat. The halachic modification of removing the kinuach ve’hadacha option was likely planned as an anti-Qaraite legislation.


Two primary authorities report on the halacha as it was in pre- R. Chananel times. One is the Baal Halochos Gedolos (BaHaG) of either R. Yehudai Gaon, head of the yeshiva in Sura from 757 to 761, and/or Shimon Kayyara (8thcentury). (The correct authorship of BaHaG is a matter of scholarly debate, but its author was a recognized source of halachic tradition from the 8th century.)


הלכות גדולות הלכות ברכות פרק ששי ט'א' (הובא גם בטור או"ח קעג')- אמצעיים רשות אמר רב נחמן לא שנו אלא שבין תבשיל לתבשיל אבל בין בשר לגבינה חובה והאי דשרו רבנן גבינה בתר בשרמשמעתיה דרב נחמן ... אמר רב חסדא אכל בשר אסור לאכול גבינה ודוקא בלא קינוח אבל מקנח פומיה שרי למיכל...

A careful reading of BaHaG shows that the "רבנן"cited in BaHaG refers to contemporaneous sages, not only earlier “Chazal”.

The second testimony is from R. Hai Gaon (939-1038), as cited by Rashba:


חידושיהרשב"אחוליןקהע"אאבלהרבבעלהלכותגדולותז"לכתבבהלכו'ברכות... וכןדעתרבינויעקבז"לוגאון זכרונו לברכה גם כן כתב אכלבשר מותר לסעודה אחרת למיכל גבינה וה"מ בחסידי אבל אנן מקנחינ'ומחוורינןידן ופומן ואכלי'. אכל גבינ'שרי למיכל בשר בלא קנוח בלא נטילת ידים וה"מ דחזייה לידיה דלא מטנפא. (הובא גם בספר העיטור שער ראשון הל'הכשר בשר דף יג ע"ב)

The Rashba is clearly citing two separate sources, the BaHaG and the “Gaon” (R’ Hai [10]). R. Hai Gaon speaks in the plural and says “werinse hands and wash out our mouths and eat”. Evidently, this was the common practice amongst the gaonim.

What triggered the halachic transformation which we observe in the leading North African and Spanish rishonim of the following generation? (R. Chananel was about 48 years old when R. Hai passed away.) 

Let’s analyze early Qaraite halachic progressions and how they correlate with inverse developments in Rabbanite halacha. To fully appreciate the reasons for R. Chananel’s modernization of milk and meat laws, it is necessary to trace Qaraite geographic, demographic, and halachic developments.


Historical Development of Qaraite Halacha

Nathan Shur’s Toldoth haKaraim[11] provides an overview of Qaraite history. Qaraism began gradually in the late eighth and early ninth centuries CE. Anan Ben David (c. 715 - c. 795), who was later claimed to be the founder of the Qaraite movement (though not historically accurate), maintained that it is forbidden to eat meat until the Temple is rebuilt [12].Benjamin Nahawendi (early 9th century), Sahl ben MatzliahAbu al-Sari(910–990), and Daniel al-Kumisi  (d. 946), all early prominent Qaraite scholars and philosophers, forbade their followers from eating meat until the restoration of the sacrifices [13]. The Tustaries [14], a family of wealthy influential Qaraites with independent philosophic and halachic views, also forbade eating meat. Qaraite views were not uniform on all matters; Yacob Qirqisani,a leading Qaraite scholar of the first half of the tenth century, limited this meat restriction to Jerusalem but allowed consumption of meat and wine outside Jerusalem.Slowly over the course of the tenth century the abstinent trend amongst Qaraites loosened and it became acceptable to allow meat consumption [15].


From the inception of Qaraism, its scholars read the passuk, "לא תבשל גדי בחלב אמו" literally (al-Qirqisani, Kitab al-AnWar, XII, 25:4 “‘in its mother’s milk’ refers only to the milk of its mother”). They therefore had no hesitations against eating meat and dairy together and did so once they had relaxed the mourning restriction. Shlomo ben Yehuda Gaon, (Jerusalem, 1025-1051), records that the Qaraites ate dairy with meat [16].

These Qaraite developments coincided with corresponding developments in Rabbanite circles. R. Chananel was born in the year 990 and passed away in 1053. We don’t know exactly when he wrote his commentary to Tractate Chullin requiring a six hour wait, but it probably was early in the eleventh century. Soon after the Qaraites began breaching the rabbinic meat and milk halachos in the mid-tenth century, the Rabbanites responded by building a fence to guard those same halachos.

Qaraite Geography

In beginning of ninth and tenth century Qaraites were concentrated in Iraq and Persia, but in the middle of the tenth century they began moving westward to Jerusalem, North Africa, and Spain. During this time period, Qaraites lived throughout the Jewish-inhabited world. In every important city besides those in France and Germany, a Qaraite community could be found alongside each Rabbanite community [17]. Many of the Qaraites were great philosophers, writers, and wealthy merchants; some were invested with high political power. In Cairo, Qaraites were so powerful and influential that many Rabbanites left the fold for Qaraism, until Rambam came to Cairo in 1166 and stopped this drift by improving the political power of the Rabbanites [18]. It is thus understandable why Rambam would seek to modify Jewish practices to widen the separation between Rabbanites and Qaraites. 

R. Chananel (990 - 1053) and R. Yitchak Alfasi (1013 – 1103), the first rishonim to make the six hour wait an absolute requirement, lived in Fez, Kairouan, and Spain, side by side with Qaraite communities. As the Qaraites allowed themselves to eat milk and meat together over the course of the tenth century, they became nicknamed ‘the eaters of milk and meat’. They surely influenced some from the Rabbanite community. In order to protect the Halacha, highlight their symbolic differences, and erect a social barrier between the two camps, these leaders extended the original kinuach ve’hadacha obligation to a six hour wait.

Some historians believe that the Qaraites of the early Middle Ages counted for close to half of the total Jewish population [19]. Furthermore, recent analysis of Cairo Geniza documents shows that Qaraite and Rabbanite communities of North Africa and Eretz Yisrael of the tenth through thirteenth centuries collaborated in legal affairs, political endeavors, and commerce. There were even frequent mutually respectful Qaraite-Rabbanite marriages [20]. The two communities were dependent on each other in many ways. An excellent description of this historical setting is found in Heresy and the Politics of Community by Marina Rustow (2008). The need to defend the rabbinic Halacha is understood better against such an historical backdrop. As the divide between the communities was sometimes blurred, reinforcement was necessary. It is understandable why we find a Rabbanite response to Qaraite leniencies from North African Rabbanite authorities and not from the heirs of the Gaonate in Iraq. This is because the center of Qaraite activity had already migrated from Iraq to the Mediterranean Basin over the course of the tenth century.


During the tenth and eleventh centuries Rabbanites from all over the Mediterranean would make yearly pilgrimages to Jerusalem for Sukkos. On Haosha’na Rabba the custom was for allto gather on Har ha’Zaisim and amongst other things declare blessings and bans. In 1029 and 1038, the Rabbanites proclaimed a ban against the Qaraites. It is the wording of these charamim which is very revealing. The ban was worded “against the eaters of meat and milk”.

Rustow explains the deeper context and meaning behind the ban:


…the Rabbanites and the Qaraites in the Fatamid realm conducted regular professional and personal relations. The ban’s aim was not to correct Qaraite religious behavior, but to achieve symbolic or ritual separation between the two groups. …. the principle violation with which the Qaraites stood charged- challenging the rabbinic claim to exclusive authority in interpreting biblical law …. The ban was couched, by a synecdoche that stood for an entire theological aberration, in terms of a specific infringement: eating meat with milk. [21]

The milk and meat mixing of the Qaraites symbolized the divide between the Qaraite and Rabbanite camps. It is clear why the leading rabbinic sages of this era would fortify and tighten this particular area of law.
Precedent in Rabbeinu Tam

This argument for the political origins of the six hour wait may seem novel and shocking, but in fact, the truth of its background was known from the beginning. Rabbeinu Tam (1100-1171) of France who lived shortly after the innovation of R. Channenel and Rif writes exactly this:


ספרהישרלרבינותם סימןתעב. כלהבשר. אמ'רבנחמןלאשנו...פירשרביהודאיבשאלתותשנשאלולפניו... אבלביןבשרבהמהלגבינהבעיקינוחוהדחה. והאדאמרמרעוקבאלהאמילתא(חלא) ברחמראאנאכו'היינוגבישיהויבלאקינוח. דהאבעיר'יוחנןכמהישהאכו'היינוהיכאדלאקינחאבלאיקינחלאבעישיהוי. (ובין) גבינהלבשרלאבעיקינוחכלל....וביןבשרלגבינהבעיקינוחאושיהוי... וכןמוכיחבהלכותגדולותשלברכות.... וכןעיקר. ואע"גדר'חנינאפליגאהאיפיסקאלאודסמכא. דהאדאורישאינןבנידאורייתא. ובקעהמצאוגדרבהגדר. וכמושפסקתינר'מתוךההלכה. ורביהודאיגאוןפירשה. והיאדסמכא....ספרהישרלרבינותםחלקהחידושיםי"לע"ישמעוןש. שלזינגרתשמ"ה 282-283  


(There appears to be printing error in this text: ר'חנינאshould be חננאלר'.)

R. Avraham HaYarchi (c. 1155-1215) of Provence in his Manhig Olam paraphrases Rabbeinu Tam’s words (without the printing error) [22]:


ספר המנהיג הלכות סעודה אות ט'- ובהלכות ה"ר שמעון קיירא … ודאמר רב חסדא אכל בשר אסור לאכול גבינה היינו בלא קינוח הפה אבל מי שיקנח פומיה וידיה שרי ליה למיכל…, ואפילו באותו סעודה קאמר וכן כתב ר"י מנוחתו כבוד בספר הישר… פירש רב יהודאי גאון בשאלתות שנשאלו לפניו… אבל בין בשר לגבינה בעי קינוח הפה והדחה ,,והאדאמרמרעוקבאאנאלהאמילתחלאברחמראאנאוכו'היינוגבישיהויובלאקינוחהפהדהאדבעומיניהדר'יוחנןכמהישהאוכו'היינובלאקינוחהפהאבלבקינוחלאבעישיהוי, ובשרשאכלאחרגבינהלאבעיקינוחושיהויכלל... וכןמוכחבהלכותגדולותשלברכות.... ואע"פשרבינוחננאלפליגאהאיפיסקאוכןהרבאלפאסילאודסמכאנינהוולמקוםשאינןבניתורהחששוובקעאמצאווגדרובהגדרוכןעיקר... כפר"ת.
What is meant by בקעאמצאווגדרובהגדר? It refers either to the Qaraites or to the weakening of Rabbanite community values due to Qaraite influence.

Minhag Ashkenaz

What was the accepted Halacha in the Franco-German Jewish communities of the early Middle Ages? Their custom was to allow eating dairy after meat as long as a disuniting action was performed in between. Some Ashkenazi rishonim required only kinuach ve’hadach; others required birkas hamazon. Rashi [23] (as cited by Siddur Rashi and Manhig) and Rashbam [24] required birkas hamazon- the dairy foods must be consumed in a separate meal. Rabbeinu Tam allowed their consumption in the same meal with an intermediary kinuach vehadacha. Consistency exists between the two Franco-German views- a time waiting intermission as an absolute requirement was foreign to them [25].

R. Zerachiah HaLevi Baal Ha-Maor of Provence (c. 1125- c. 1186) concurred independently [26] with the view of R. Tam and reports that this was the general custom in France:


 המאור הגדול לרבינו זרחיה הלוי פרק כל הבשר – נקיטינן מהאי עובדא ... היכא דאכל בשר מקמי גבינה אי ההוא בשר דאכל בשר חיה ובהמה הוא צריך נט"י והוא דאכל בלילה וצריך נמי קינוח הפה ... ועוף וגבינה נאכלין באפיקורין
ולא צריכי ולא מידי ... אע"פ שהקדים עוף לגבינה ..

והיכא דשהה ליה ו'שעות שיעור שהייה שבין סעודה לסעודה אע"פ שאכל בשר בהמה וחיה מותר לאכול גבינה... בלאובלא קנוח הפה ולא אמר רב חסדא אכל בשר אסור לאכול גבינה אלא באפיקורן כלומר בלא נט"י"נט"י

ובלא קנוח הפה אבל בנט"י ובקנוח הפה הכל מותר... ועל זה הדרך מתיישבת כל השמועות כולן וכן פסק בעל ההלכות הראשונות ז"ל ומזה יתבאר לך מה שפסק הרי"ף בהלכותיו על לא נכון...וטעו בפירושיהם להעמיד מנהגיהםומה שכתבנו היא המחוור וכן נהגו כל חכמי צרפת

The custom of the sages of France and Germany reflects the original Halacha and simplest reading of the Talmud. There were no Qaraite communities in France and Germany during that time period and hence the Franco-German sages saw no need to respond with a symbolic and social barrier. The existence of the original gaonic custom in European communities is in line with Haym Soloveitchik’s recent “Third Yeshiva of Bavel” hypothesis [27]. Soloveitchik argues that the Ashkenazi scholarly community was transplanted from Iraq sometime between the years 930 and 960. This emigration occurred before R. Chananel’s new legislation [28]. They therefore knew only the ancient Halacha and stuck with it because they had no reason to change [29].
Rabbi David Bar-Hayim of Machon Shilo delivered a series of comprehensive shiurim(2010) explaining all the fine detail of this sugya in Chullin- how it was originally understood and how it was later re-explained.
Here are two additional considerations regarding the words of מרעוקבא:
 אמר מר עוקבא אנא להא מלתא חלא בר חמרא לגבי אבא דאילו אבא כי הוה אכיל בשרא האידנא לא הוה אכל גבינה עד למחר עד השתא ואילו אנא בהא סעודתא הוא דלא אכילנא לסעודתא אחריתא אכילנא
1) Mar Ukva is well-known in the Talmud for his extreme piety and righteousness. See Kesubos 67b and Rashi Sanhedrin 31b ד"ה לדזיו. Why shouldn’t this statement be understood as another example of his extreme personal religiosity [30]? 

2) How could R. Chananel  say-לאמצינומישהתירלאכולגבינהאחרבשרבפחותמעתלעתאלאמרעוקבא? This statement is shocking. If Jews commonly waited 24 hours before dairy after eating meat wouldn’t there be some hint of it somewhere in the vast Tannaic, Amoraic or Midrashic literature? The truth is to the contrary-מרעוקבאand his father are the only sages we ever hear of who waited so long. In fact, his words are expressed in a way which indicates that he speaks of a personal private custom:  ."אנאלהא מלתא...ואילו אנא..." R. Chananel himself was surely aware of the shortcomings of his argument.. He may have only said these words in order to allow for the creation of a new Rabbanite custom which would aid in segregating the Qaraites from the Rabbanites.  For the sake of launching the new order of dietary and hence societal and communal limitations, R. Chananel devised a clever way of manipulating the brief quasi-aggadic words of Mar Ukva.

Conclusion

The Qaraites from the start understood the biblical verses of lo sevashalliterally, in contrast to the Talmudic/rabbinic interpretation. Qaraite law allowed for cooking and eating meat with milk. However, this Qaraite departure from the Oral Law did not cause strife between the two factions during the first two centuries of the movement’s existence because Qaraites adopted an ascetic mournful lifestyle, abstaining from any meat at all. Practically, therefore, during these early years, Qaraites were not cooking and/or eating any meat and milk together. In the middle of the tenth century, Qaraite lawmakers gradually adopted a more lenient worldly approach, allowing meat consumption. With authorization to eat meat, Qaraites did so with no compunctions about preparing the meat with dairy. This Qaraite breach of the Oral Law earned them the nickname “the eaters of meat with milk”. This transgression of the Qaraites became symbolic of the entire conflict between the Rabbanite and Qaraite camps.  Throughout this period, the two camps were very connected socially, politically, and economically. There were Rabbanite-Qaraite marriages, joint business ventures, and joint communities. The lines between the two camps were not as distinct as we may imagine. At some point in the early eleventh century, the Rabbanite rishonim devised a way to create greater division and social split between the two camps. Choosing the very topic which represented the heart of the schism, they reinterpreted Talmudic passages in a manner which requires waiting six hours between eating red meat and dairy products, further separating the Rabbanites from the Qaraites both halachically and socially. However, Rabbanites and Qaraites could still enjoy a poultry-dairy meal together during community gatherings or business meetings. It was more difficult to redefine an explicit statement in the Talmud allowing poultry and dairy together without any separation in between (אגרא’s statement). Maimonides was the first to attempt to further widen the gap by including poultry in the six-hour wait category. He was quickly attacked by other Talmudists such as Nachmanides and R. Aaron HaLevi for contradicting the Talmud’s legal allowance. However, in time even Maimonides’ expansion found justification by means of rereading and re-explaining the simple meaning of the passage תנאאגראחמוהדרביאבאעוףוגבינהנאכליןבאפיקורןהואתנילהוהואאמרלהבלאנטילתידיםובלאקינוחהפה[31]. 


I am very grateful to Rabbi Bar-Hayim of Machon Shilo. Only after hearing his shiurwas I able to fit in the missing puzzle pieces [32]. This paper repeats his message but also adds by filling in the historical setting which caused the new strict waiting practice.  Readers will probably enjoy Rabbi Bar-Hayim’s restorative conclusionson this sugya.

[1] See Naftali Vieder,  התגבשות נוסח התפילה במזרח ובמעריבVolume I (1998), pgs. 323-351

[2] Friday after davening was the best time for this recital as people returning from shul would see the Qaraites in their dark homes- the rabbinic interpretation of the passuk “לא תבערו אש” needed to be reinforced by discussion in shul. Even the bracha said before lighting the Shabbos candles was likely initiated to strengthen this practice in response to the Qaraite custom. See Vieder ibid. pg. 343-346
[3] Vieder ibid. pg. 350
[4] Haym Soloveitchik, Collected Essays,Volume II (2014), pgs. 378-395

[5] Many of us are careful to drink some wine during every Shabbos seuda shlishis. The source for this custom originally (before kabbalists created other reasons) is from Rambam (Shabbos 30:9):
 חייב אדם לאכול שלוש סעודות בשבת--אחת ערבית,
 ואחת שחרית, ואחת במנחה...
 וצריך לקבוע כל סעודה משלושתן על היין

I don’t think there is any source for this in the Talmud. Like Prof. Haym Soloveitchikhas argued about intimacy, Rambam may have created this ‘halacha’ to oppose the Qaraite custom of abstaining from wine on Shabbos.
[6] A similar phenomenon is found in ספר העתיםpg. 25:
ובשבת תקנו חכמים לטמנו מבערב כדי שישתמר המאכל בחמימתו ויהי'חם בשבת ואיכא בהא מילתא עונג שבת. ורוב מן החיצונים תלמידי ביתוס יהי'אהליהם לנתוץ וירקבו עצמותם אשר הטעו... שהחמין אסור בשבת ותיפח עצמותיהם... והלכך כל שאינו אוכל חמין בשבת בר נידוי הוא ודרך מינות יש בו וצריך להפרישו מקהל ישראל...
When studying the third and fourth perakim of Shabbos one sees a long list of restrictions and limitations. R. Yehuda Barcelona depicts these halachos in a positive light: Chazal required shehiya and hatmanna for the purpose of oneg Shabbos.  The beloved Shabbos lunch cholentmay be an anti-Qaraite creation.
[7] Here is the relevant section from Rambam’s Introduction:
...ואין צריך לומר, התלמוד עצמו:  הבבלי, והירושלמי, וספרא, וספרי, והתוספתות--שהן צריכין דעת רחבה ונפש חכמה וזמן ארוך...ומפני זה נערתי חוצני, אני משה בירבי מיימון הספרדי, ונשענתי על הצור ברוך הוא, ובינותי בכל אלו הספרים; וראיתי לחבר דברים המתבררים מכל אלו החיבורין, בעניין האסור והמותר והטמא והטהור עם שאר דיני תורה:  כולן בלשון ברורה ודרך קצרה, עד שתהא תורה שבעל פה כולה סדורה בפי הכול--בלא קושיה ולא פירוק, ולא זה אומר בכה וזה אומר בכה, אלא.. על פי המשפט אשר יתבאר מכל אלו החיבורין והפירושין הנמצאים מימות רבנו הקדוש ועד עכשיו
[8] Also other early baalei Tosfos in Or Zarua 1:480.
[9] See Ritva and Rashba on Chullin 104-105. A similar trend is seen amongst Italian rishonim. R. Yeshaya Trani II writes:

אלא שמורי זקני הרב (=ר'ישעיה דטראני הזקן) מתיר גבינה אחר בשר עוף. ורבינו משה (=רמב"ם) אוסר. וכך נראה בעיני שאסור לאכול גבינה אפילו אחר בשר עוף
[10] I am taking the liberty to assume Rashba refers to R. Hai Gaon. See for example Rashba on Brachos פרק תפלת השחרwhere he cites “הגאון ז"ל” several times and is certainly referring to R. Hai.
[11] (2003) Bialik Institute Jerusalem
[12] Ibid. pg. 28
[13] Ibid. pg. 65
[14] Ibid. pg. 55
[15] Ibid. pg. 39

[16]Ibid. pg. 66
[17] Marina Rustow, Heresy and the Politics of Community (2008), pg. 3
[18] Nathan Shur, Toldoth haKaraim(2003) pg. 60-61

[19] Salo Wittmayer Baron
[20] See Elinoar Bareket , “Karaite Communities in the Middle East”, Karaite Judaism: A Guide to its History and Literary Sources (2003) pg. 240: “The Gaon Shelomoh ben Yehuda (gaon between the years 1025-1051) tells in one of this letters that before his appointment as gaon he served as prayer leader of the Karaites in Ramle, and would pray one day with the Rabbanites and the next with the Karaites…. he pointed out that the two communities “complete each other  as adultery to a bed…”, that is sinners are to be found in both communities and there is no difference in this matter.”

[21] pgs. 206-207
[22] Also Or Zarua 1:480 :
...ופר"ח שלא פסק כך בקעא מצא וגדר בה גדר.
[23] סידור רש"י סימן תקפז. See Aviad Stollman, “מהדורה מדעית וביאור מקיף לסוגיות ההרחקה בין בשר לחלב” Ramat Gan (2001) note 27.
[24] Compare Tosfos ד"ה לא שנו ,חולין דף קה:with  .ד"ה לסעודתא אחריתא
[25] The idea of a waiting period only became popular in France and Germany many generations later- probably because of influence of the seferim from the Sefardic rishonim.

[26] R. Aaron HaLevi also agrees with R. Tam in peirush to Chullin as well asסימן מחויטרימחזור.
[27] Haym Soloveitchik, Collected Essays,Volume II (2014), pgs. 150-215

[28] As R. Hai (939-1038) still preserved the original kinuach ve’hadacha traditionit is reasonable to assume that R. Chananel (990-1053) was the very first rishon to require six hours. In fact, R. Tam places the blame on R. Chananel and was not aware of any earlier source.
[29] Aviad Stollman in his  “מהדורה מדעית וביאור מקיף לסוגיות ההרחקה בין בשר לחלב and
התרחבות בהלכה כהיתוך אופקים פרשני: המתנה בין בשר לחלב כמקרה מבחן"" AJS Review 28/2 (2005), has made a thorough analysis of this sugya. Some of the more obscure sources on this topic I found in his articles. He argues that the minhag Ashkenaz here originates from minhag Eretz Yisroel and that the custom of the Sefardim to wait six hours originates from a minhag Bavel. To establish that such a minhag Bavel existed he found it necessary to downplay the words of BahaG (which indicate lack of a waiting custom in Bavel) by pointing to ambiguities in BahaG’s wording. I believe R. Hai’s testimony וה"מ בחסידי אבל אנן מקנחינ'"
 ומחוורינןידן ופומן ואכלי'is sufficient evidence that even the rabbinic elite in Bavel did not wait between meat and dairy.

It seems that Rabbi Stollman’s approach is based on the century old academic view that minhag Ashkenaz had its origins in minhag Eretz Yisroel. The remainder of Stollman’s arguments are built upon that model. More recently though, Haym Soloveitchikin his Collected Essays,has made a very strong case for the Babylonian origins of minhag  and chachmei Ashkenaz (besides for the obvious Palestinian liturgical components of minhag Ashkenaz). Stollman’s assumption that the non-waiting practice of Ashkenaz originated from Eretz Yisroel should be reevaluated. Rather, the minhag Ashkenaz here should be seen as pre-Qaraism Halacha.
It is evident from R. Hai that a small group of pious men in Bavel did indeed have a waiting practice. Though this cannot be considered “the minhag Bavel”, it may have been a kernel of precedent which R. Chananel expanded for political reasons.


[30] See Aviad Stollman, “מהדורה מדעית וביאור מקיף לסוגיות ההרחקה בין בשר לחלב” (2001) note 40.
[31] Many later rishonim explained that though the order in Agra’s statement is- poultry then cheese- it means –cheese then poultry!
[32] Rabbi Dr. Israel Drazin’s post on Qaraism herealso inspired this article. His insightful essays on all areas of Jewish thought are always filled with depth and wisdom. 

Easing the Donkey's Burden: Nitkatnu Hadorot or Nitgadlu?

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 Easing the Donkey's Burden: Nitkatnu Hadorot or Nitgadlu?
By Rabbi Simcha Feuerman

“If the earlier generations were like angels, we are like humans. But if they were like humans, then we are like donkeys.”  (Talmud Shabbat 112b)

One of the basic and fundamental tenets of our tradition is respect and deference for the previous generations.  Although there are notable exceptions, generally, rabbinic authorities do not override or disagree with the rulings of authorities from a previous class, such as Amoraim disagreeing with Tanaim, Gaonim with Amoraim, Rishonim with Acharonim and so on.  While this may be due largely to conceding that their knowledge of, and access to Torah Sheb'al Peh is more accurate[1], there is also an aspect of deference and respect for those who are considered to be of higher moral and spiritual character. [2]

This principle has a subtle but pervasive impact on the chinuch we give our children; it is not uncommon for rebbesand rabbanim to speak of “Nitkatnu Hadoros– The generations have become diminished” as a reason to explain how we are unable to fulfill a particular spiritual, moral or halachic ideal.  For example, while it is virtually unheard of to fast for more than 25 hours today, there were minhagim to fast for two days consecutively – on the 9th of Av and the 10thof Av[3], as well as those who were able to make vows of abstention for penitence.[4]  Apparently, we consider ourselves too morally and physically weak to live up to this standard.  Likewise, based on the accounts of many individuals from the previous generations, it was not uncommon for persons to spend the entire Yom Kippur night standing and reciting Psalms, and THEN praying the full day.  This seems beyond reach for most of us today.  When contemplating this, most people wearily sigh, “Oy, the doiros get more shvach (weak).”  These are but two examples of many instances where the deterioration of subsequent generations is an accepted fact of life in our tradition and our culture.

Is this principle absolutely true in all areas?  Is each successive generation truly less spiritual and less moral than the previous ones?  Are we riding a one-way train down to the depths of oblivion waiting to be rescued by the arrival of Messiah?  This resonates with the midrashic tradition about our ancestors in Egypt, who would have descended past all forty-nine levels of impurity had they not been rescued.[5]While such a belief seems to be well-supported by everything we have studied so far, there is a basic illogic to this position.  What is the spiritual purpose in the divine plan for sustaining us, if indeed each generation is less worthy?  Why not just throw in the metaphysical towel and bring Mashiach now, while we are still partially ahead of the game? 

The answer must be, as was undoubtedly true in regard to our ancestors who were slaves in Egypt, that despite our continuous moral deterioration, our experiences must be preparing us and priming us for an ultimate experience of higher spirituality and achievement.  Presumably, the experience as slaves in Egypt somehow was a necessary preparation for acceptance and fulfillment of the Torah.  Indeed, many commandments in the Torah, ranging from Shabbat to the laws of usury, are supplemented with a reminder that we are obligated to follow them “Because I am your G-d who took you out of Egypt.”[6]  Furthermore, in regard to the capacity of empathy and caring for the plight of the downtrodden, the Torah reminds us “And you know the soul of the stranger because you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”[7]  If the experience of slavery in Egypt helped elevate and prime our ancestors for the accepting of the Torah, it may likewise be a fair assumption that while each generation may be undergoing spiritual and moral deterioration, there also is some new quality that is being developed.  Perhaps this quality is not fully expressed and lays dormant until the time of redemption, or perhaps its quality is available and accessible to all of us right now. 

In this essay, I will suggest one specific area where each generation improves its ability and depth to comprehend and fulfill the Torah, as well as the practical implications for the chinuch of our children.  According to fascinating research and statistics regarding I.Q. scores, the ability to perform abstract reasoning increases significantly with every generation.  This has a distinct impact on the ability to understand the more esoteric parts of the Torah, such as the reasons for the mitzvot, ways of understanding reward and punishment, as well as the mystical aspects of religious activities.  The Talmud tells us that “Three things expand a person’s consciousness: A pleasant home, a pleasant wife and beautiful utensils”[8], and it is quite possible that the relative wealth and security of modern life allows for each generation to improve its capacity to understand abstractions, because our surroundings are more pleasant and engender sensitivity and perception. As we shall see, the Sages of the Talmud did not believe the average not-so-learned Jew to be capable of grasping and comprehending many of the deeper aspects of the Torah.  There are numerous examples of this, and we shall study a few of them found in the Talmud and Medieval authorities.

The Truth about the Scrolls

The Talmud tells us that one of the early rabbinic decrees was a form of impurity applying to holy scrolls.  While it seems rather strange to declare holy scrolls to be impure, the rabbis had good reason to do so.  According to the Talmud, the common folk developed an ill-advised habit of storing food consecrated as Terumah in the same areas where they stored the holy scrolls.  The people reasoned, “The Terumah is holy and the scrolls are holy so why not store them together?”  The problem with this practice is that the rodents would come to eat the Terumah and inevitably also chew on the scrolls.  Therefore, the rabbis brilliantly declared that the scrolls are always impure, greatly discouraging people from storing them near the Terumah, which was required to be ritually pure.[9] 

This clever bit of social engineering begs one basic question:  If the people were compliant and agreeable to following rabbinic rules and injunctions, why did the rabbis have to complicate matters by decreeing that the scrolls were impure, and of all things, have the audacity to suggest that holy scrolls are impure?  Would it not have been simpler to merely forbid storing holy scrolls alongside Terumah?  This suggests that actually the rabbis could not easily or completely secure compliance via this route and therefore could not directly forbid the co-placement of Terumahand scrolls.  Instead, they needed to tap into an apparent cultural taboo and respect for the laws of Terumah purity as a way to mobilize the people to comply and refrain from storing scrolls next to the Terumah.  In other words, to simply tell people that rodents will chew on the scrolls and therefore it is forbidden to store Terumah next to them would not have been as effective as creating a new form of impurity.  By creating a rabbinic decree of impurity, the rabbis were able to tap into a deeply ingrained respect for the laws of purity and fear of violating them.  This was apparently the most effective deterrent.

Another possible instance where the Sages used the taboo of impurity to shape behavior is in regard to the rabbinic mitzvah of washing hands before eating bread.  The stated reason for this law seems highly convoluted and begs for a deeper explanation.  The reason supplied is that since, when the Temple is rebuilt and the Cohanim will eat Terumah they will need to wash their hands before eating, the rabbis wanted to accustom everyone to wash.[10]  This reason is a quite a stretch, because the original ruling itself that required the Cohanim to wash was only based on another rabbinic declaration that hands are automatically considered ritually unclean.  So, in effect you have a rabbinic injunction to safeguard a rabbinic injunction, in effect a double safeguard, which is usually not the modus operandi of the sages.[11]  Furthermore, let us study the original reason for declaring unwashed hands as impure in regard to Terumah bread.  The Talmud tells us it is because one’s hands absentmindedly touch many objects.[12]  The rabbis therefore enacted a strange form of impurity declaring only the hands and no other part of the body impure, and then allowing a special ritual of water poured from a vessel to act as a mikvah for the purpose of removing the impurity.  This is in itself quite remarkable, because indeed had a person's hand absentmindedly touched an impure object such as dead rodent as the stated reason fears, the entire person's body would be rendered impure and he would need to immerse himself in the mikvah.  Washing his hands from a vessel would accomplish nothing.  So, what problem if anything, did the rabbis solve? 

In fact, Rashi (Ad loc.) finds this explanation so implausible that he suggests another explanation, admittedly overriding what his rabbis taught. Rashi proposes that the requirement to wash before eating Terumahwas enacted in order to ensure that the person eats clean hands out of respect for the holy food.  If so, it is not implausible that the rabbis ultimately extended this requirement to all bread in order to encourage sanitary eating habits.[13]   In any case, it is clear that according to Rashi, the rabbis once again used the taboo of impurity to shape social behavior, at least to show deference for Terumahby eating with clean hands, and possibly to eat with general cleanliness.

This deeply ingrained fear and respect for the laws of ritual impurity and regard for the sanctity of Terumah bread cannot be underestimated.  So much so, that according to some interpretations of the Mishna Nedarim, even a thug and a murderer will still be “pious” and careful to make sure he does not defile Terumah.  The Mishna states that if one is accosted by bandits, he may make a false oath declaring his produce as Terumah, so bandits and/or self-appointed tax collectors will leave him alone.  Incredibly, this implies that a bandit, who has no qualms robbing and murdering, will not want to transgress the boundary of defiling Terumah. This brings new meaning to the concept of honor among thieves![14]

These were not the only instances where the rabbis tapped into the taboo against impurity as a way to shape society. The Sages were quite concerned about Jewish children being exposed to inappropriate sexual contact during playtime with their gentile neighbors. They therefore decreed that gentile children be considered to have the impurity of a zav (a certain disease that was considered to cause a high degree of impurity, see Leviticus ch. 15) so that the Jewish children would not play with the gentile children. This decree was enacted to protect them from being subjected to improper contact.[15] One would think it would have been more effective to just educate and warn parents about the dangers of inappropriate sexual contact and/or abuse, as we attempt to do nowadays. Apparently, the rabbis who enacted this decree felt the standards of tznius would be violated if they stated their concerns directly, and/or their warnings would go unheeded because the average parent considered such acts unthinkable. They therefore resorted to the fear of impurity as a way to influence parental behavior and protect the children, taking care of safety concerns without violating tznius or overwhelming people with information beyond their ability to emotionally process."

We see from the above examples that the rabbis had no qualms about withholding information and influencing people via their taboos, so long as it was for a worthy cause.  Apparently, at least in regard to the examples of the scrolls and molestation prevention, the rabbis did not have enough faith in the average person's ability to grasp or handle the entire truth.  One wonders if this is an approach that would work well nowadays.  It does not seem likely.  As members of a democratic and open society, people expect and demand transparency from their leaders.  While these may or may not be Torah values, they are expectations that are accepted as our rights.  Furthermore, as we shall see later in this essay, the research shows that in modern times the average person is indeed more capable of understanding and grasping nuances than in previous generations.  [16]

As If They Are Children

In his introduction to Perek Chelek, Maimonides tells us that the pleasures of the soul are as inconceivable to us as color is to person who is blind from birth.  The ultimate reason for doing mitzvot should not be about reward or punishment, rather one’s focus should be on wanting to become attached to G-d by performing his will.  In the World to Come, the soul will experience great ecstasy to whatever degree it can attain attachment to G-d, and the greatest possible punishment is that of karet, which is the soul's disconnection from G-d.[17]  Maimonides tells us, despite the value and importance of this lofty concept, the Torah exhorts people in terms of reward and punishment as a concession to the limits of human understanding and motivation.  Few people would be motivated by the abstract notion of connection or disconnection to G-d.  Instead, for most people, the expectation of concrete reward and punishment is necessary to propel people in the direction of spiritual growth.  In time, as the person ascends to greater heights, he may be become capable of fulfilling the commandments completely lishmah, as is prescribed by Antignos Ish Socho in Pirke Avot.[18]   Maimonides explains that this is no different than a parent or teacher who motivates a young child to study by offering him sweets, and then as he gets older, offers even more significant prizes.  Only when the child is a full adult will he realize the value of what he is studying, and will he no longer require material rewards and prizes. 

But, again one must wonder, is it true that people today would be insufficiently motivated by a vision of spiritual ecstasy and attachment to G-d?  The thousands of Jews and non-Jews who flock to gurus, ashrams, so-called “Kabbalah” Centers and other similar places seem to indicate this is not quite true.  In fact, perhaps to the modern man, the idea of heavenly reward and punishment may seem juvenile and much less of a motivator than the notion of performing good and moral deeds for their own sake.  Furthermore, although in the intimacy of my counseling practice as a psychotherapist, I indeed have encountered a fair share of clients who express nihilistic sentiments and profess atheism or agnosticism, I also have been deeply moved by persons of high moral character who profess a firm conviction that there is no G-d, nor any afterlife whatsoever.  I have seen such persons withstand remarkable moral tests.  Are they deluding themselves and actually, deep down, fear a final accounting in the Afterlife, or are they truly capable of being moral for its own sake?[19]   Has modern Man expanded his capacity for spirituality, and if so, in what way?

Midrash and Aggadot

Midrash have been explained and interpreted throughout the ages in accordance with various Jewish exegetical and philosophical approaches.  Medieval commentariesthroughout the ages have instructed us to understand midrashicstories as allegorical in nature, hinting at lofty concepts such as mystical and kabbalistic teachings which the rabbis were reluctant to state explicitly.[20]   

In his introduction to his commentary on the Mishna, Maimonides states that the aggadot were taught to a general audience, which included children and those who were not scholars.  He therefore explains:

"One cannot teach the general public except by means of parable and riddle so as to include...the youth, in order that when their intellect reach a more complete level, they will understand the meaning of the parables."

The proper and meaningful study of midrash is in general a vastly unexplored area of learning for most Jews, even those who spend many hours a day studying Torah in depth.  Unfortunately, aggadot are often relegated to the status of Jewish tales told to entertain children without enough thought being given to their deep meanings. 

Are children today truly incapable of understanding the deeper meanings of these midrashim?  Personally, I recall studying a midrash with a nine year-old boy which stated that the Torah was primordially written with “Black fire on top of white fire.”[21]  When I asked him what he thought it meant, he told me “The black is the Yetzer Hara, and the white is the YetzerHatov.  The Torah needs both in order to be complete.”  

Admittedly, this was a particularly precocious young man who had a track record of ingenious insights.  Nevertheless, it is worth considering that children today are quite capable of seeing deeper meanings in aggadotwhen challenged to do so.  All we need to do is keep an open mind and ask them what they think.  Here is one example of how this can be done with a famous midrash taught to all children.

The Sun and the Moon

“In the beginning of the creation of the world, G-d made the Sun and the Moon to be the same size and equally bright.  After they were created, the Moon approached G-d and said to him, "It does not make sense that two rulers should wear the same crown."  G-d answered, "Okay, then you be the one who is shrunken to a smaller size and the Sun shall rule!"   The Moon then replied, "Because I said one smart thing you punish me so severely?"  G-d answered the Moon, "I'll tell you what.  Go, and you shall rule over day and night."  The Moon then replied, "What purpose is there in my ruling over the day, when there is plenty of light and no one needs my light?"  G-d replied, "Go, and through you the Jewish people will measure the days and the years, and thereby establish the dates of the holy days.  After some additional give and take, G-d saw that the Moon still was not satisfied, and in response he made following request of the Jewish people: "On every Rosh Chodesh bring a sacrifice on my behalf in order that I obtain forgiveness for having reduced the light of the Moon."”[22]

If encouraged to do so, even young students will have no problem finding the obvious lessons in the story, such as how the Moon's greed and grandiosity did not pay in the end.  But what about the other ideas in the story?  What can the students make of this give and take between the Moon and G-d?  Not only does the Moon gain concessions, in the end, G-d even asks the Jewish people to seek forgiveness on his behalf!

The Maharsha (Ad loc.) interprets this dialogue to be about the Jewish people.  In order for them to achieve their spiritual goals they must undergo great suffering in this world.  Ultimately, they will reap the reward in the world to come.  Nevertheless, the fact that the Jewish people must suffer so much in exile is, so to speak, painful to G-d, and he therefore tries to console the Jewish people.  First, by giving them the Jewish Festivals, but ultimately by reminding them that just as the Moon waxes and wanes through its cycles, so too the Jewish people will have moments in history when they are powerful and others when they are weak. 

Given some chance to discuss this, children can easily be led to see these deeper meanings.  It also gives the teacher an opportunity to discuss the ways in which the Torah presents G-d with human emotions.  Though G-d is not subject to emotional whims, he chooses to reveal himself in such a manner so humans can relate to him.[23]  Within that light, from this story we see a willingness by G-d to enter into a dialogue with the sinner, to make accommodations, adjustments, and surprisingly, even to regret the harshness of the punishment he enacted.  From this story, any chutzpadik and misbehaving child could surely draw comfort. 

Surely, with the right kind of instruction, this kind of analysis and understanding is well within the range of even many first graders.  We have a great opportunity to combine intellectual analysis with an emotional component to inspire internalization and practice of Torah values.  Yet previous generations seem to have preferred keeping this treasure trove of information in the form of a child’s tale.  It seems to me that our generation of children have an increased capacity for deeper reasoning and understanding and should be encouraged to look at these stories in a more symbolic light.   My experience talking to children today shows me that they are capable of great depth, analysis and interpretation.  Let us see why this might be true, and what has changed in recent history.

The I.Q.'s Keep Rising

One striking area where each successive generation is superior to the next is in regard to I.Q. Test scores.

"In 1981, New Zealand-based psychologist James Flynn...Comparing raw I.Q. scores over nearly a century... saw that they kept going up: every few years, the new batch of I.Q. test takers seemed to be smarter than the old batch. Twelve-year-olds in the 1980s performed better than twelve-year-olds in the 1970s, who performed better than twelve-year-olds in the 1960s, and so on. This trend wasn't limited to a certain region or culture, and the differences were not trivial. On average, I.Q. test takers improved over their predecessors by three points every ten years - a staggering difference of eighteen points over two generations.

The differences were so extreme, they were hard to wrap one's head around. Using a late-twentieth-century average score of 100, the comparative score for the year 1900 was calculated to be about 60 - leading to the truly absurd conclusion, acknowledged Flynn, 'that a majority of our ancestors were mentally retarded.' The so-called Flynn effect raised eyebrows throughout the world of cognitive research. Obviously, the human race had not evolved into a markedly smarter species in less than one hundred years. Something else was going on.

For Flynn, the pivotal clue came in his discovery that the increases were not uniform across all areas but were concentrated in certain subtests. Contemporary kids did not do any better than their ancestors when it came to general knowledge or mathematics. But in the area of abstract reasoning, reported Flynn, there were 'huge and embarrassing' improvements. The further back in time he looked, the less test takers seemed comfortable with hypotheticals and intuitive problem solving. Why? Because a century ago, in a less complicated world, there was very little familiarity with what we now consider basic abstract concepts. '[The intelligence of] our ancestors in 1900 was anchored in everyday reality,' explains Flynn. 'We differ from them in that we can use abstractions and logic and the hypothetical ... Since 1950, we have become more ingenious in going beyond previously learned rules to solve problems on the spot.'

Examples of abstract notions that simply didn't exist in the minds of our nineteenth-century ancestors include...the concepts of control groups (1875) and random samples (1877). A century ago, the scientific method itself was foreign to most Americans. The general public had simply not yet been conditioned to think abstractly.

The catalyst for the dramatic I.Q. improvements, in other words, was not some mysterious genetic mutation or magical nutritional supplement but what Flynn described as 'the [cultural] transition from pre-scientific to post- scientific operational thinking.' Over the course of the twentieth century, basic principles of science slowly filtered into public consciousness, transforming the world we live in. That transition, says Flynn, 'represents nothing less than a liberation of the human mind.'

The scientific world-view, with its vocabulary, taxonomies, and detachment of logic and the hypothetical from concrete referents, has begun to permeate the minds of post-industrial people. This has paved the way for mass education on the university level and the emergence of an intellectual cadre without whom our present civilization would be inconceivable.

Perhaps the most striking of Flynn's observations is this: 98 percent of IQ test takers today score better than the average test taker in 1900. The implications of this realization are extraordinary. It means that in just one century, improvements in our social discourse and our schools have dramatically raised the measurable intelligence of almost everyone.”[24] 

Chinuch Implications

According to these findings, our generation has the highest capacity for abstract reasoning and analysis than ever before.  Young children today who spend a great deal of time on computers, are even more used to hypothetical thought, layers of representation of symbolism, nuances and multiple perspectives than almost every computer game employs.  In fact, the actual use of a computer itself engenders recognition of symbolic content because the entire graphical interface is representation of acts rather than actual physical acts.  Opening “windows”, switching from one program to another, multi-tasking, becoming exposed to world events as they unfold in real time via newsfeeds, and playing role playing games can all lead to expanded consciousness and awareness. True, these same technologies can also lead children to be highly distractibility and crave constant stimulation, but let us focus on this generation’s gifts and strengths instead of bemoaning their shortcomings. 

This is not the first time in Jewish history where a successor generation was superior in one aspect over a previous generation.  The Talmud records a remark of Rav Papa to Abaye, who ponders why miracles happened to the earlier generations and not nowadays.  Rav Papa states that it cannot be due to lack of Torah knowledge, as he declares their knowledge to be superior.[25]

I am not an educator by profession, so the definitive implications of these findings for the chinuch of our children require more extensive thought and discussion.  However, some areas that we might consider are :

  1. Increased focus on symbolic meaning, philosophy and the deeper aspects of the Torah.  Our children are indeed capable of understanding the Torah on a very deep level and we should not make the mistake of selling them short.  It is possible to engage them in actively interpreting and delving into a study of reasons for the mitzvot.  Maimonides encourages people to do, regardless of whether the mitzvah is a chok (law without an obvious reason) or a mishpat (law based on apparent logic.)  Maimonides states, “Though all the laws of the Torah are decrees [and not subject to debate]...it is fitting to contemplate them and, to whatever extent possible, try to find reasons for them."[26]  One should pause to ask why Maimonides considers it important to find reasons for the laws of the Torah if they must be followed regardless of whether they seem logical or not?  Presumably the answer is that when one makes an effort to understand the laws, it helps guide a person to think in consonance with the morals and ethics of the Torah, thereby increasing the development of character.  With proper guidance and encouragement, our children can excel in this area. 
  1. Likewise, in regard to the study of aggadot, we could help the children reach for the deep lessons and interpretations of these allegories, to strengthen their belief and respect for the insights found in our tradition. 
  1. Every now and then, someone bemoans the fact that in prior generations, the yeshivot covered far more ground and mastered hundreds of blatt, instead of merely focusing on a few blatt per year, studied in great depth.  While this criticism is valid and important, perhaps we also should embrace this situation in recognition that the yeshivot might be indulging in a great deal of analysis for one simple reason – the students are good at it.  As a generation, more individuals are capable of this deeper learning than ever before.  Thus, the desire to do so is understandable, and may need to be given more recognition.  True, the knowledge of basics needs to be encouraged as well, but this can be tempered with a special appreciation that more and more young people have a thirst to study and analyze in greater depth and the drive should not be excessively stunted.  As the Talmud says, “A person should always study in the direction that his heart desires.”[27]
  1. It is well and good to teach our children humility and historical perspective but care might be taken not to overdo and engender an attitude of pessimism and defeatism.  They certainly should understand the brilliance, dedication and awesome spiritual and moral character possessed by sages of previous generations.  Nevertheless, no one wants to be on a losing team, so if we want children to stay loyal to Jewish tradition and practices, they ought to feel like winners.  We can also convey a message of confidence and belief in their ability as Jews and spiritual beings to make new and important contributions, as opposed to being mere paving bricks, biding time on the road to the Messiah.  Showing them their unique strengths and intellectual abilities is one way to do that.

Concluding Thoughts

As they mature in life, our children will be exposed to science and philosophy in various degrees.  Some may learn complex ideas as a result of the professions they choose such as medicine, psychology, sociology or other science-based courses of study, or may just read about these ideas on their own due to the readily available and popular works.  Today, your average person can go to a book store and purchase titles such as Stephen Hawking's Brief History of Time, which makes physics and astronomy understandable to the common man.  Do we want to run the risk of our children having a grade-school understanding of the Torah, and then as they grow up and learn about the world, find secular ideas to be more sophisticated and exciting?  While indeed, in some respects, our generation is at a spiritual and moral low point, embarrassingly insignificant compared to the giants of years past, we do not have to wallow in self-pity.  Rather, we have an opportunity to modify our curriculum and include deeper and more profound aspects of the Torah, allowing our children to become stimulated as they capitalize on their ever increasing capacity to comprehend what previous generation considered secret, esoteric and beyond the reach of but a few.

Rabbi Simcha Feuerman, LCSW-R is psychotherapist in private practice specializing in high conflict couples and families.  He serves as Director of Operations for OHEL Children’s Home and Family Services, and as President of Nefesh International.  Simchafeuerman@gmail.com



[1] Menachem Kellner in Maimonides on the Decline of the Generations (Albany: SUNY Press, 1996) suggests that according to Maimonides the previous generations of rabbis have superiority on the basis of their access to a less distorted masorah, but not due to an inherent supernatural superiority.
[2] See Eruvin 53a which suggests that the deterioration in Torah knowledge of successive generations as due to many factors including lack of spiritual breadth and lack of studiousness.
[3] Ba'er Heytev, Shulchan Aruch, O.H. 558:3
[4] Shulchan Aruch, O.H. 563:4
[5]Zohar Chadash, on Parashas Yitro, by the first verse of the Aseret Hadibrot, 20:1.
[6] Leviticus 25:35-38
[7] See Exodus 23:9 and Leviticus 19:33
[8] Berachot 57b, see also Maimonides, Shemoneh Perakim, ch. 5, where he elaborates on this concept.
[9] Shabbat 14a
[10] Chulin 106a
[11] Beitzah 3a, see Mesoras Hashas ad loc. for further references
[12] Shabbat 14a
[13] See Mishna Berurah 158:1 which offers both reasons, that of habituation in ritual purity for Terumah, and also physical cleanliness as an aspect or representation of spiritual purity.
[14] Nedarim 3:4, see Bartenura ad loc.
[15] Shabbat 17b
[16] See R. Eliezer Lippmann’ Neusatz’ Mei Menuhot, published in 1884.  Here is a quote from Dr. Marc Shapiro’s discussion on the Seforim Blog (here)
“On p. 16a, after citing Maimonides’ words that the majority err in understanding aggadot literally, Neusatz comments that this was the situation in earlier times, which were less religiously sophisticated than later generations. The proof that the earlier generations were religiously naïve is that belief in divine corporeality was widespread then. According to Neusatz, people who were so mistaken about God that they imagined him as a corporeal being would obviously not be able to understand Aggadah in a non-literal fashion. He contrasts that with the generation he lived in, which was able to properly understand Aggadah.
אמנם בדורנו זה נזדככו יותר הרעיונות ונלטשו הלבבות והמושגים האלהיים הנשגבים האלה מצטיירים בלבות המאמינים בטוהר יותר ורוב זוהר, ונתמעטו אנשי הכת הזאת, ותה"ל רובם יודעים שחז"ל כתבו אגדותיהם ע"ד משל ומליצה וחדות וכפי הצורך אשר היה להם לפי ענין הדורות אשר היה לפניהם, פנימיותם הם ענינים אמתיים נשגבים עומדים ברומו של עולם.” 
[17] Also see Maimonides, Mishne Torah, Hilchot Teshuvha chapters. 8 and 10 where he elaborates on this theme 
[18]  Avot 1:3
[19] It is important to point out that though this is superficially similar to Maimonides’ position, and certainly relatively admirable, being moral for its own sake with no belief in the ultimate goal of connection to G-d is problematic.  According to Maimonides, doing a mitzvahlishmah– for its own sake, does not mean without connection to G-d.  It just means without a need or desire for reward as a motivator.  In fact, in Hilchot Melachim (8:11), Maimonides definitively states that a Gentile who fulfills the seven Noachide Laws out of logic and morality alone without doing them with the intent to fulfill the Creator’s mitzvot, will not merit reward in the World to Come among the righteous gentiles.  This is even more striking because there is no apparent source for this ruling, which suggests that Maimonides considered this principle obvious and self-evident, perhaps stemming from his philosophical beliefs about the nature of the soul and how immortality is attained through a process of elevating the intellect and character, which would be impossible without correct beliefs.  It would seem, according to Maimonides, that morality without acceptance of the yoke of Heaven is simply not considered moral.
[20] See for example Rabbi Moses Chaim Luzzato's introduction to Aggadah, found in the beginning of most editions of the Ein Yaakov, and Maimonides’ commentary on Mishna Sanhedrin, introduction to chapter 10, "the third group", p. 137, Kapach Edition, and Ibn Ezra's introduction to his commentary on Chumash.
[21] Midrash Tanchuma Bereishis 1
[22] Chulin 60b
[23] See Maimonides, Mishne Torah, Yesodei Hatorah 1:9. 
[24]Shenk, David, The Genius in All of Us, Doubleday Copyright 2010, pp. 35-37.
[25] Berachot 20a
[26] Mishne Torah, Hilchot Temurah 4:13
[27] Avoda Zara 19a

The Man who Tried to Put it All Together: A Hesped for Rav Kook on His Eightieth Yahrzeit

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The Man who Tried to Put it All Together: 
A Hesped for Rav Kook on His Eightieth Yahrzeit 
By Yehudah Mirsky 
Yehudah Mirsky is an Associate Professor in the Department of Near Eastern and Judaic Studies and the Schusterman Center for Israel Studies, Brandeis University, and the author of Rav Kook: Mystic in a Time of Revolution (Yale University Press), available here (link).  
This is his first contribution to the Seforim Blog
Jerusalem of the 1930s was boiled in fury. The inevitability of bitter conflict with the Arabs of Palestine had become too clear to deny, while the fighting among Jews, if not quite as violent, was bitter and unmistakable. How to deal with the Arabs, how to deal with the British, how to bring new immigrants and, once they were there, sustain them, how to deal with Hitler’s shadow looming large over Europe – and how to deal with Zionism’s revolution not only against centuries of Jewish politics, but centuries more of Jewish religion and history. The arguments were as heated as the stakes were high. 

All the more striking it was that on Monday, September 2, 1935, the fourth day of Elul 5695, some fifteen thousand people, amounting to one third of Jewish Jerusalem and nearly five percent of Jewish Palestine, religious and secular alike, joined by foreign diplomats, scholars, day laborers and rabbis, came out to follow the coffin of Chief Rabbi Abraham Isaac ha-Kohen Kook, dead at age seventy. The procession wound from his yeshiva near Zion Square, in three columns through the Old City, to his freshly dug grave on the Mount of Olives, as thousands more watched from the rooftops. 

The night before, just a few hours after his passing, the Nineteenth Zionist Congress, meeting in Lucerne, Switzerland, had held a memorial service of its own. Menachem Ussishkin, president of the Jewish National Fund responsible for land-purchases in Palestine and incoming President of the Zionist Executive, had long been Rav Kook’s chief interlocutor in the Zionist leadership, navigating between the movement’s relentlessly secularizing thrust, and the rabbi’s dogged insistence that the movement was bound to be the very vehicle of spiritual rebirth, for Jews and the world. Ussishkin said the rabbi had told him the building modern-day Palestine, its roads, factories and farms was nothing less than rebuilding the Temple – and that now, as then, all the ranks were meant to work together, the secular, itself charged with divine energy, being the indispensable foundation of the sacred. 

Ussishkin was followed by Meir Berlin, leader of the perpetually-embattled Religious Zionist movement, the Mizrachi (whose Hebraized name would later garnish Israel’s religious university, Bar-Ilan). Rav Kook, Berlin said, “loved the Jewish people the way only a father can love his children. Nobody is left after him who will love his nation that fiercely…He understood his people, the situation of the generation, and its life conditions, and that is why he forgave them everything.” There was a lot to forgive. 

Berlin and Rav Kook went back a very long way, longer than the former’s own lifetime. In the fall of 1884, then aged nineteen, Abraham Isaac ha-Kohen Kook had become a student and disciple of Berlin’s father, Naftali Zvi Yehudah Berlin, known as “The Netziv,” dean of the great yeshiva of Volozhin. The yeshiva teemed with prodigies, future rabbis and future revolutionaries, among whom young Kook stood out, for an unfamiliar mix, appealing to some, off-putting to others, of intellectual prowess, intense piety, and lyric sensibility. 

In the early years of his career, begun in a tiny Lithuanian shtetl, Kook was drawn to Maimonidean rationalism. With time, and intense grief at the death of his first wife, he turned inward, undertook deep introspection and extensive study of Kabbalah, on his own and with Rav Shalom Elyashiv (grandfather of the recently departed Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv). Alongside his command of Talmud and halakha, he mastered an extraordinary range of Jewish mystical, philosophical and other texts, read widely in the rich Hebrew and Yiddish periodical literature of the day, and became an autodidact of contemporary philosophy. In a departure from rabbinic conventions, he made serious study of the non-halakhic portions of the Talmud, the Aggadah and all its divergent voices. 
“There are those who erroneously think that world peace will only come from a common character of opinions and qualities. But no – true peace will come to the world precisely by multiplication of all the opinions and perspectives… all facets of the larger truth… peace (is) the unification of all opposites. But there must be opposites, so that there be those who labor and that which will be unified… Hence peace is the name of God, who is the master of all the forces, omnipotent and gathering them all.” (Eyn Ayah to Massekhet Berakhot, vol. 2, pp. 397-398, 9:361, on BT Berakhot 64a.) 
In another, marking his burgeoning conviction that God is to be found in the stormy recesses of one’s own inner life, he began to keep a spiritual diary. 

In the summer of 1904 Kook moved to Palestine after accepting an offer to become the rabbi of Jaffa and the surrounding colonies, effectively becoming rabbi of the New Yishuv (Jewish collective). The year of his arrival marked the beginning of the Second Aliyah, the migration wave that brought a small but influential cadre of young intellectuals and revolutionaries who left an outsized mark on the political and cultural development of the New Yishuv. The combined effect of his encounters with their willingness to sacrifice themselves for the sake of the Jewish people and for the ethical universalism of Socialism, with the vibrancy of the New Yishuv and sheer embodied-ness of the land was electrifying. In public, he became the leading rabbinic champion of the New Yishuv, and thus the target of traditionalist attacks. In private, as time went by he wrote more and more furiously and extensively in his diaries, lost in a torrent of thought as he began to train the dialectical worldview which he had developed to understand the complex mix of his own soul and the ideological debates of Eastern Europe onto larger historical patterns. His thinking also became explicitly Messianic. 

Thus in his reading, and in a move which astonished and enraged many of his Rabbinic peers, the rebelliousness of the pioneers was neither accidental, nor evil, but in fact nothing less than part of God's plan to restore to Judaism a vitality and universal spirit worn thin in centuries of exile. The young rebels against tradition in the name of Jewish nationalism and social justice were nothing less than the bearers of a new revelation. 

In a major essay of 1912, Li-Mahalakh Ha-Ideiot be-Yisrael, (“The Progression of Ideals in Israel,”) he presented a philosophy of Jewish history structured along series of mirroring, theses and antitheses, whose collective synthesis is redemption: The vital, collective, bodily Judaism of the Bible followed by its antithesis, the subdued, individualized, spiritualized,Judaism of Exile, all to be synthesized in the fullness of redemption. 

The Land of Israel was central to his reflections. 
“The holiness within nature is the holiness of the Land of Israel, and the Shekhinah that went down into exile with Israel (BT Megillah 29a) is the ability to preserve holiness in opposition to nature. But the holiness that combats nature is not complete holiness, it must be absorbed in its higher essence to the higher holiness, which is the holiness in nature itself, which is the foundation of the restoration and tikun olam… And the holiness in exile will be joined to the holiness of the land, and the synagogues and batei midrash of Bavel will be reestablished in the Land of Israel.” (Ibid; and Shemonah Kevatzim 2: 326-327, Orot pp. 77-78). 
Here and throughout he was reinterpreting a rich skein of Kabbalistic thought, in which the divine presence, the Shekhinah, as the Oral Torah, is Knesset Yisrael, the sacred community of Israel, and thus the Land, are all ultimately as one, constituting, as Sefirat Malkhut the very meeting point of God and the world. The “Ideals” under discussion in his 1912 essay were not only the Ideals of Western philosophy and the moral, spiritual and aesthetic ideas driving all human yearning, but also, and more deeply, the Sefirot, the nodal points of divine energy that in Kabbalistic teaching are the deep structure of all of Being, and, animated as it is with divine energy, its endless Becoming. 

The outbreak of World War One caught Rav Kook in Germany, where he’d hoped to attend a rabbinic conference and mollify some of his peers’ fierce opposition to the Jewish national revival. He spent the war years in Switzerland and then England, in horrified witness to the great civilizational suicide. 

The world crisis and slaughter were redeemed for him by the Balfour Declaration, which he took as electrifying confirmation of his messianic reading of world events. As always, the national was for him complemented by the universal, and in the midst of the war, in the pages of his diaries, he reached some of the farthest heights of his universalism: 
“There is one who sings the song of his self, …And there is one who sings the song of the nation, who cleaves with gentle love to Knesset Yisrael as a whole, and sings her song with her, grieves for her sorrows and delights in her hopes…And there is one whose soul expands further beyond the bound of Israel, to sing the song of man…And there is one whose spirit expands and ascends even higher, to the point of unity with all creation, with all creatures and all worlds, and sings with them all…And there is one who ascends above all these songs in a single union, and all sound their voices…The song of the self, of the nation, of man, of the world – all come together within him at every time, in every hour. And this perfection in all its fullness ascends and becomes a sacred song, God's song, Israel's song…a simple song, doubled, tripled, fourfold, the Song of Songs of Shlomo (Cant. 1:1), (as the Midrash says) The King to Whom Peace, belongs.” (Midrash Shir Ha-Shirim Rabbah, 3:1(6), Vilna ed.) (Shemonah Kevatzim, 7:112, Orot Ha-Kodesh, vol. 2, pp. 444-445). 
On his return to Palestine be became, first, chief rabbi of Jerusalem, and in 1921, the co-founder, with his Sephardi colleague Yaacov Meir, of the Chief Rabbinate. What was for the British an extension of established colonial policy of delegating religious services and some legal jurisdiction to local religious authorities was for him an opening to institutions that would gradually reshape the law into a new Torah for a redeemed Eretz Yisrael. He hoped to create institutions that would move the historical progression forward, creating the halakha and institutions to guide the great changes to come. 

The reality was more complicated. That which made him the obvious choice to head the Rabbinate and indispensable to the burgeoning project of building the Jewish national home – his mix of erudition and piety, his engagements with modern thought and culture, a deeply conciliatory personality and a theology and historical perspective to make that conciliation the basis of a new philosophy – his ability to square seemingly incommensurate circles, left him out of the political mix and unable to make headway on his most prized projects, the new Rabbinate and bringing the Zionist movement into deep dialogue with Judaism. 

It all came to a head in 1933 with the murder of the general secretary of Ben-Gurion’s Mapai party, Chaim Arlosoroff. Suspicion fell on Jabotinsky’s Revisionists, who had been doing rhetorical and sometimes physical battle with Mapai over its willingness to negotiate Jewish immigration with Hitler, and several were arrested. Rav Kook himself had never affiliated with a party, or even formally joined the Zionist movement as such. But once convinced of the Revisionists’ innocence, Rav Kook threw himself and all his stature into their defense. The accused were exonerated, but his ties to the Left were irrevocably broken. 

The ultra-Orthodox, for their part, throughout his Jerusalem years, saw him as their gravest foe and attacked him relentlessly, even while on his deathbed, and after. 

The ensuing decades saw growing interest in Rav Kook’s teachings and their significance. The thousands of pages of his diaries were edited and published, in different series, by his disciple “ha-Rav ha-Nazir,” David Cohen (see here) and by Rav Kook’s son, Zvi Yehudah. 

The latter eventually assumed the deanship of his father’s yeshiva, renamed Mercaz Ha-Rav, and in the late 1960s and early ‘70s became spiritual leader of the new vanguard of Religious Zionists. 

When in the aftermath of the Yom Kippur War of October 1973 religious Zionists decided to capture the flag and lay hold, not only of the hilltops of Judea and Samaria but of the Zionist movement as a whole, they were taking the religious language that Labor Zionism had made into a functional tool for a political program and re-infuse it with its classical religious meaning. And they did so, with the conceptual tools provided them by Zvi Yehudah, in his interpretation of his father. 

The central question for Zvi Yehudah, his own successors, and for his and their critics within Religious Zionism, (most notably Rav Yehudah Amital) was what his father would have said, and how his ideas ought to be interpreted. It’s hard to think of another Jewish theologian whose legacy has been as consequential as AvrahamYitzhak ha-Kohen Kook. 

Those arguments continue in present-day Israel, where new volumes by and about Rav Kook, academic, sectarian and popular, continue to be published at a dizzying pace year after year. The publication in recent years of his diaries in their original form has heightened interest in him, while showing the depth of his immersion in Kabbalah, and the depths he was plumbing in his own complicated soul. He simultaneously embraced both universalism and particularism with rare vehemence. He saw genuine revelation in the spiritual life of all peoples, and in the very body of Israel, whose unique collective vocation was the salvation of mankind. He affirmed both pragmatism and utopia, or in his terms, sagacity and prophecy. The common thread to this entire way of thinking is the dialectic, a principled appreciation of complexity, and the ways in which precisely that complexity, that coincidence of opposites, is that which gives birth, slowly, to whatever it is that we can know of truth. 

The last day of his life was the third day of Elul, sixteen years to the day since his arrival, after the Great War, in Jerusalem. He had been ailing with cancer for months and gone to the then-suburb of Kiryat Moshe. In his last days he’d received a number of visitors, including a disciple of the Rebbe of Munkacs, come to query Rav Kook’s support for the Zionists, and the young rabbi and theologian, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, who was visiting from America on what would be his only visit to the Land of Israel (see here). And, after asking his physician how long he had left to live, did his best to read through the Mishna, Bible and Bahya ibn Paquda’s eleventh-century classic, Duties of the Heart, one last time. 

On the first day of Elul, the penitential month, Ha-Nazir had brought him the elegantly designed title page of the theological compendium he’d wrought out of the spiritual diaries, to be entitled, “Light of the Holy,” Orot Ha-Kodesh. Rav Kook wept and asked that on the title page he be referred to simply as “Rav” and nothing more. He was surrounded by treasured rabbinic colleagues – Rav Isser Zalman Meltzer, Rav Yechiel Michel Tukachinsky, Rav Aryeh Levine – and Ha-Nazir stood in the courtyard downstairs, his face buried in a tree. At the very end, Rav Kook’s lips were moving. His disciple and soul-mate, Rav Yaakov Moshe Charlap leaned over him, and heard him say, “Even now, my hope in God doesn’t falter.” 

Rav Kook turned his face to the wall as the attending physician rinsed the blood from his body, and once his visitors re-entered the room, he faced them all once again. They began to say the Shema together, and he joined them on the final word, “Echad / one.”

The Princess and I: Academic Kabbalists/Kabbalist Academics

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ב"ה
The Princess and I[1]
Academic Kabbalists/Kabbalist Academics
לכב'יומא דהילולא דרשב"י ל"ג בעומר
by Josh Rosenfeld

Josh Rosenfeld is the Assistant Rabbi at Lincoln Square Synagogue and on the Judaic Studies Faculty at SAR High School.

This is his second contribution to the Seforim blog. His first essay, on "The Nazir in New York," is available (here).

The last few decades have witnessed the veritable explosion of "new perspectives" and horizons in the academic study of Kabbalah and Jewish Mysticism. From the pioneering work of the late Professor Gershom Scholem, and the establishment of the study of Jewish Mysticism as a legitimate scholarly pursuit, we witness a scene nowadays populated by men and women, Jews and non-Jews, who have challenged, (re)constructed, and expanded upon Scholem's work.[2]
 These men and women themselves have been variously praised and criticized themselves for sometimes blurring the lines between academician and practitioner of Kabbalah and mysticism.[3]Professor Boaz Huss of the Ben-Gurion University of the Negev has done extensive work in this area.[4]One of the most impressive examples of this fusion of identities is Professor Yehuda Liebes (Jerusalem, 1947-) of Hebrew University, who completed his doctoral studies under Scholem, and rose to prominence himself by challenging scholarly orthodoxies established by his mentor.
On a personal note, the initial encounter between so-called 'traditional' notions of Kabbalah and academic scholarship was a jarring one, calling into question aspects of faith and fealty to long-held beliefs.[5]In a moment of presumption, I would imagine that this same process is part and parcel of many peoples' paths to a more mature and nuanced conception of Torah and tradition, having undergone the same experience. The discovery of scholar/practitioners like Prof. Liebes, and the fusion of mysticism and scholarship in their constructive (rather than de-constructive) work has served to help transcend and erase the tired dichotomies and conflicts that previously wracked the traditional readers' mind.[6]
It is in this sense, and in honor of the 33rd of the 'Omer - the Rosh ha-Shana of The Zohar and Jewish Mysticism that I present here an expanded and annotated translation of Rabbi Menachem Hai Shalom Froman's poem and pean to his teacher, Professor Yehuda Liebes.[7]Study of the unprecedented relationship between the two, and other traditional/academic academic/traditional Torah relationships remains a scholarly/traditional desideratum.[8]
Rabbi Menachem Froman was born in 1945, in Kfar Hasidim, Israel,  and served as the town rabbi of Teko'a in the West Bank of Israel. During his military service, served as an IDF paratrooper and was one of the first to reach the Western Wall.. He was a student of R. Zvi Yehuda Kook at Yeshivat Merkaz ha-Rav and also studied Jewish Thought at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. A founder of Gush Emunim, R. Froman was the founder of Erets Shalom and advocate of interfaith-based peace negotiation and reconciliation with Muslim Arabs. As a result of his long-developed personal friendships, R. Froman served as a negotiator with leaders from both the PLO and Hamas. He has been called a "maverick Rabbi," likened to an "Old Testament seer,"[9]and summed him up as "a very esoteric kind of guy."[10]Others have pointed to R. Froman's expansive and sophisticated religious imagination; at the same time conveying impressions of 'madness' that some of R. Froman's outward appearances, mannerisms, and public activities may have engendered amongst some observers.[11] He passed away in 2013.
R. Froman was not known for his written output, although recently a volume collecting some of his programmatic and public writing has appeared, Sahaki 'Aretz (Jerusalem: Yediot and Ruben Mass Publishers: 2014).[12]I hope to treat the book and its fascinating material in a future post at the Seforim blog. [13]

The Princess and I
Menachem Froman
Translated and Annotated by Josh Rosenfeld

II Samuel 6:12-23
And she saw him, dancing and leaping[14]
amongst lambs and goats
it troubled her[15]
and she despised
him in her heart that had opened to love
she had com/passion
and she sought from her father to be his wife[16]

And she saw him, dancing and leaping
with her in the ways of men amidst the longing of doves[17]
 it troubled her
and she despised
him in her heart at the moment of intimacy
she had com/passion
upon him like the embrace of parting moment[18]

And she saw him, dancing and leaping
amongst foreign matrons
 it troubled her
and she despised
him in her heart that he had left her in pain
and she resorted to the honor of her father and the garb of royals

He saw her, and he leapt and he danced
in the presence of the glory of his God
he was troubled
and he despised
in his heart conceiving the troubles in hers
he had com/passion
yet still returned
to his flocks and his herds
to the dancing and leaping he loved
______

            It is through this poem, written many years ago, that I wish to join with those who are honoring my teacher and Rebbe Muvhak [ =longtime teacher] Professor Yehuda Liebes, shlit"a [ =may he merit long life] (or, as my own students in the Yeshiva are used to hearing during my lectures, Rebbe u'Mori 'Yudele' who disguises himself as Professor Liebes…).
This poem (at least according to its authorial intent), describes the ambivalent relationship between two poles; between Mikhal, the daughter of Saul, who is connected to the world of kingship and royalty, organized and honorable - and David, the wild shepherd, a Judean 'Hilltop Youth' [ =no'ar gev'aot]. Why did I find (and it pleases me to add: with the advice of my wife) that the description of the complex relationship between Mikhal, who comes from a yekkishe family, and David, who comes from a Polish hasidishe  family, is connected to [Prof.] Yehuda [Liebes]? (By the way, Yehuda's family on his father's side comes from a city which is of doubtful Polish or German sovereignty). Because it may be proper, to attempt to reveal the secret of Yehuda - how it is possible to bifurcate his creativity into the following two ingredients: the responsible, circumspect (medu-yekke) scientific foundation, and the basic value of lightness and freedom.
Seriousness and mirth (as he analyzes with intensity in his essay "Zohar and Eros"[19]), formality and excess (as he explains in his book, "The Doctrine of Creation according to Sefer Yetsirah"[20]), contraction and expansion, saying and the unsaid, straightness ( =shura) and song ( =shira). Words that stumble in the dark, seek in the murky mist, for there lies the divine secret. Maimonides favors the words: wisdom and will; and in the Zohar, Yehuda's book, coupling and pairs are of course, quite central: left as opposed to right, might ( =gevura) as opposed to lovingkindness ( =hesed), and also masculinity as opposed to the feminine amongst others. I too, will also try: the foundation of intellectualism and the foundation of sensualism found by Yehuda.
Do these two fundamental aspects of Yehuda's creativity mesh together to form a unity? This poem, which I have dedicated to Yehuda, follows in the simple meaning of the biblical story of the love between Mikhal and David, and it does not have a 'happy ending'; they separate from each other - and their love does not bear fruit. Here is also the fitting place to point out that our Yehuda also merited much criticism from within the academic community, and not all find in his oeuvre a unified whole or scientific coherence of value. But perhaps this is to be instead found by his students! I am used to suggesting in my lectures my own interpretation of 'esotericism'/secret: that which is impossible to [fully] understand, that which is ultimately not logically or rationally acceptable.
I will conclude with a story 'in praise of Liebes' (Yehuda explained to me that he assumes the meaning of his family name is: one who is related to a woman named Liba or, in the changing of a name, one who is related to an Ahuva/loved one). As is well known, in the past few years, Yehuda has the custom of ascending ( ='aliya le-regel)[21]on La"g b'Omer to the celebration ( =hilula) of RaShb"I[22]in Meron. Is there anyone who can comprehend - including Yehuda himself - how a university professor, whose entire study of Zohar is permeated with the notion that the Zohar is a book from the thirteenth- century (and himself composed an entire monograph: "How the Zohar Was Written?"[23]), can be emotionally invested along with the masses of the Jewish people from all walks of life, in the celebration of RaShb"I, the author of the Holy Zohar?
Four years ago, Yehuda asked me to join him on this pilgrimage to Meron, and I responded to him with the following point: when I stay put, I deliver a long lecture on the Zohar to many students on La"g b'Omer, and perhaps this is more than going to the grave of RaShb"I.[24]Yehuda bested me, and roared like a lion: "All year long - Zohar, but on La"g b'Omer - RaShb"I!"

            God's secret is with/in those who fear him, and his covenant makes it known.[25]





[1] I wish to thank yedidi R' Menachem Butler for his patient guidance and assistance in the preparation of this short essay. His expertise and erudition is something worthy of true admiration. Thanks, as well, is also due to the other editors at the Seforim Blog for their consideration of this piece, and for providing such a remarkable, long-running platform for the dissemination, discussion, and study of Jewish culture and thought
[2] It is no understatement to say that there is a vast literature on the late Professor Gershom Scholem and for an important guide, see Daniel Abrams, Kabbalistic Manuscripts and Textual Theory: Methodologies of Textual Scholarship and Editorial Practice in the Study of Jewish Mysticism, second edition (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2014). See also Gershom Scholem's Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism 50 Years After: Proceedings of the Sixth International Conference on the History of Jewish Mysticism, eds. Joseph Dan and Peter Schafer (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1993), 1-15 ("Introduction by the Editors"); Essential Papers on Kabbalah, ed. Lawrence Fine (New York: NYU Press, 1995); Mysticism, Magic, and Kabbalah in Ashkenazi Judaism, eds. Karl Erich Grozinger and Joseph Dan (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1995); Kabbalah and Modernity: Interpretations, Transformations, Adaptations, eds. Boaz Huss, Marco Pasi and Kocku von Stuckrad (Leiden: Brill, 2010), among other fine works of academic scholarship.
For a unique example of a non-apologetic traditional engagement with Scholem's work, see R. Shimon Gershon Rosenberg (ShaGaR), Nehalekh be-Regesh (Efrat: Mahon Kitve ha-Rav Shagar, 2010), 75-97, especially 77-78 (Hebrew), which I hope to explore in a future essay at the Seforim blog.

[3] While representing a range of academic approaches, these scholars can be said to have typified a distinct phenomenological approach to the academic study of Kabbalah and what is called "Jewish Mysticism." See Boaz Huss, "The Mystification of Kabbalah and the Myth of Jewish Mysticism,"Peamim 110 (2007): 9-30 (Hebrew), which has been shortened into English adaptations in Boaz Huss, "The Mystification of the Kabbalah and the Modern Construction of Jewish Mysticism,"BGU Review 2 (2008), available online (here); and Boaz Huss, "Jewish Mysticism in the University: Academic Study or Theological Practice?" Zeek (December 2006), available online (here).

[4] See Boaz Huss, "Spirituality: The Emergence of a New Cultural Category and its Challenge to the Religious and the Secular,"Journal of Contemporary Religion 29:1 (January 2014): 47-60; see further in Boaz Huss, "The Theologies of Kabbalah Research,"Modern Judaism 34:1 (February 2014): 3-26; and Boaz Huss, "Authorized Guardians: The Polemics Of Academic Scholars Of Jewish Mysticism Against Kabbalah Practitioners," in Olav Hammer and Kocku von Stuckrad, eds., Polemical Encounters: Esoteric Discourse and Its Others (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 85-104. On the difficulty of pinning down just what is meant by the word 'mysticism' here, see Ron Margolin, "Jewish Mysticism in the 20th Century: Between Scholarship and Thought," in Haviva Pedaya and Ephraim Meir, eds., Judaism: Topics, Fragments, Facets, and Identities - Sefer Rivkah(=Rivka Horwitz Jubilee Volume) (Be'er Sheva: Ben Gurion University, 2007; Hebrew), 225-276; see also the introduction to Peter Schäfer, The Origins of Jewish Mysticism(Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 1-31, especially 10-19, where Schäfer attempts to give a precis of the field and the various definitions of what he terms "a provocative title."  See Boaz Huss, "Spirituality: The Emergence of a New Cultural Category and its Challenge to the Religious and the Secular," Journal of Contemporary Religion 29:1 (January 2014): 47-60; see further in Boaz Huss, "The Theologies of Kabbalah Research," Modern Judaism 34:1 (February 2014): 3-26; and Boaz Huss, "Authorized Guardians: The Polemics Of Academic Scholars Of Jewish Mysticism Against Kabbalah Practitioners," in Olav Hammer and Kocku von Stuckrad, eds., Polemical Encounters: Esoteric Discourse and Its Others (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 85-104.
On the difficulty of pinning down just what is meant by the word 'mysticism' here, see Ron Margolin, "Jewish Mysticism in the 20th Century: Between Scholarship and Thought," in Haviva Pedaya and Ephraim Meir, eds., Judaism: Topics, Fragments, Facets, and Identities - Sefer Rivkah (=Rivka Horwitz Jubilee Volume) (Be'er Sheva: Ben Gurion University, 2007; Hebrew), 225-276; see also the introduction to Peter Schäfer, The Origins of Jewish Mysticism (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 1-31, especially 10-19, where Schäfer attempts to give a precis of the field and the various definitions of what he terms "a provocative title," as well earlier in Peter Schäfer, Gershom Scholem Reconsidered: The Aim and Purpose of Early Jewish Mysticism (Oxford, U.K.: Oxford Centre for Postgraduate Hebrew Studies, 1986).
[5] For an example of the sometimes fraught encounter and oppositional traditional stance regarding the academic study of Kabbalah, see Jonatan Meir, "The Boundaries of the Kabbalah: R. Yaakov Moshe Hillel and the Kabbalah in Jerusalem," in Boaz Huss, ed., Kabbalah and Contemporary Spiritual Revival (Be'er Sheva: Ben Gurion University Press, 2011), 176-177. Inter alia, Meir discusses the adoption of publishing houses like R. Hillel's Hevrat Ahavat Shalom of "safe" academic practices such as examining Ms. for textual accuracy when printing traditional Kabbalistic works. See also R. Yaakov Hillel, "Understanding Kabbalah," in Ascending Jacob's Ladder (Brooklyn: Ahavat Shalom Publications, 2007), 213-240; and the broader discussion in Daniel Abrams, "Textual Fixity and Textual Fluidity: Kabbalistic Textuality and the Hypertexualism of Kabbalah Scholarship," in Kabbalistic Manuscripts and Textual Theory: Methodologies of Textual Scholarship and Editorial Practice in the Study of Jewish Mysticism, second edition (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2014), 664-722.
[6] For a scholarly overview of Liebes' work, see Jonathan Garb, "Yehuda Liebes’ Way in the Study of the Jewish Religion," in Maren R. Niehoff, Ronit Meroz, and Jonathan Garb, eds., ve-Zot le-Yehuda - And This Is For Yehuda: Yehuda Liebes Jubilee Volume (Jerusalem: Mosad Bialik, 2012), 11-17 (Hebrew); and for an example of a popular treatment of Liebes, see Dahlia Karpel, "Lonely Scholar,"Ha'aretz (12 March 2009), available online here (http://www.haaretz.com/lonely-scholar-1.271914).
[7] The poem and essay were first published in Menachem Froman, "The King's Daughter and I," in Maren R. Niehoff, Ronit Meroz, and Jonathan Garb, eds., ve-Zot le-Yehuda - And This Is For Yehuda: Yehuda Liebes Jubilee Volume (Jerusalem: Mosad Bialik, 2012), 34-35 (Hebrew). The translation and annotation of this essay at the Seforim blog has been prepared by Josh Rosenfeld.

[8] For a sketch of the (non)interactions of traditional and academic scholarship in the case of Gershom Scholem, see Boaz Huss, "Ask No Questions: Gershom Scholem and the Study of Contemporary Jewish Mysticism,"Modern Judaism 25:2 (May 2005) 141-158. See also Shaul Magid, "Mysticism, History, and a 'New' Kabbalah: Gershom Scholem and the Contemporary Scene,"Jewish Quarterly Review101:4 (Fall 2011): 511-525; and Shaul Magid, "'The King Is Dead [and has been for three decades], Long Live the King': Contemporary Kabbalah and Scholem's Shadow,"Jewish Quarterly Review 102:1 (Winter 2012): 131-153.

[9] See the obituary in Douglas Martin, "Menachem Froman, Rabbi Seeking Peace, Dies at 68," The New York Times (9 March 2013), available online  (here). Speaking to a member of the Israeli media at R. Froman's funeral, the author and journalist Yossi Klein Halevi described "Rav Menachem" as "somebody who, as a Jew, loved his people, loved his land, loved humanity - without making distinctions, he was a man of the messianic age, he saw something of the redemption and tried to bring it into an unredeemed reality," available online here (here).

[10] R. Froman's mystical political theology permeated his own personal existence. Even on what was to become his deathbed, he related in interviews how he conceived of his illness in terms of his political vision: "How do you feel?""You are coming to me after a very difficult night, there were great miracles. It is forbidden to fight with these pains, we must flow with them, otherwise the pain just grows and overcomes us. This is what there is, this is the reality that we must live with. Such is the political reality, and so too with the disease." (Interview with Yehoshua Breiner, Walla! News Org.; 3/4/13, emphasis mine)

[11] See, for example, the short, incisive treatment of Noah Feldman, "Is a Jew Meshuga for Wanting to Live in Palestine?"Bloomberg News (7 March 2013), available online (here), who concisely presents the obvious paradox of "The Settler Rabbi" who nevertheless advocates for a Palestinian State, and outlines the central challenges to R. Froman's "peace theology" from practical security concerns for Jews living in such a state to the challenges of unrealistic idealism in R. Froman's thought.

[12] A presentation of some of the first translations of some of Sahaki 'Aretz'fascinating material, can be seen online (here).
[13] A preliminary scholarly overview of R. Froman's literary output and sui generis personality is the forthcoming essay by Professor Shaul Magid, "(Re)­Thinking American Jewish Zionist Identity: A Case for Post­Zionism in the Diaspora." To the best of my knowledge, Professor Magid's currently unpublished essay is the first scholarly treatment of R. Froman's writings in Sahaki 'Aretz, although see the brief review by Ariel Seri-Levi, "The Vision of the Prophet Menachem, Rebbe Menachem Froman,"Ha'aretz Literary Supplement (9 February 2015; Hebrew). I would like to thank Menachem Butler for introducing me to Professor Magid.
[14] King David is at times referred to as the badhana d'malka, or "Jester of the King" (see Zohar, II:107a); Liebes treats the subject at length in Yehuda Liebes, "The Book of Zohar and Eros,"Alpayim 9 (1994): 67-119 (Hebrew).
[15] Gen. 41:8
[16] For an outlining of the parallel, sometimes oppositional, and rarely unified relationships between the two royal lineages of Joseph and Judah, see the remarkable presentation of R. Mordechai Yosef Leiner of Izbica (1801-1854), Mei ha-Shiloah, vol. 1, pp. 47-48, 54-56. On these passages, see Shaul Magid, Hasidism on the Margin: Reconciliation, Antinomianism, and Messianism in Izbica/Radzin Hasidism(Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2003), 120, 147, 154, et al. The marriage of David to Mikhal, daughter of Saul, represented an attempted mystical fusion of the two houses and their perhaps complementary spiritual roots, as R. Froman alludes to later in his essay.
[17] Song of Songs 2:14, 5:2. See, most recently, Michael Fishbane, The JPS Bible Commentary: Song of Songs (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2015), 75-76, 133-135.
[18] 1 Kings 7:36, see also b. Yoma 54b with commentary of Rashi.
[19] Yehuda Liebes, "The Book of Zohar and Eros,"Alpayim9 (1994): 67-119 (Hebrew)
[20] Yehuda Liebes, Ars Poetica in Sefer Yetzirah (Jerusalem: Schocken, 2000; Hebrew) and see the important review by Elliot R. Wolfson, "Text, Context, and Pretext: Review Essay of Yehuda Liebes's Ars Poetica in Sefer Yetsira,"Studia Philonica Annual 16 (2004): 218-228.
[21] See the start of this essay, where we defined Lag ba-Omer in the sense of the Kabbalistic/Mystical Rosh ha-Shana. For an overview of Lag ba-Omer and it's unique connection to the study of the Zohar, see Naftali Toker, "Lag ba-Omer: A Small Holiday of Great Meaning and Deep Secrets,"Shana beShana (2003): 57-78 (Hebrew), available online (here).
[22] See Boaz Huss, "Holy Place, Holy Time, Holy Book: The Influence of the Zohar on Pilgrimage Rituals to Meron and the Lag ba-Omer Festival,"Kabbalah 7 (2002): 237-256 (Hebrew).
[23] Yehuda Liebes, "How the Zohar Was Written," in Studies in the Zohar (Albany: SUNY Press, 1993), 85-139. For an exhaustive survey of all of the scholarship on the authorship of the Zohar, see Daniel Abrams, "The Invention of the Zohar as a Book" in Kabbalistic Manuscripts and Textual Theory: Methodologies of Textual Scholarship and Editorial Practice in the Study of Jewish Mysticism, second edition (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2014), 224-438.
[24] Towards the end of his life, R. Froman delivered extended meditations/learning of Zohar and works of the Hasidic masters in a caravan at the edge of the Teko'a settlement in Gush Etzion. These 'arvei shirah ve-Torahwere usually joined by famous Israeli musicians, such as the Banai family and Barry Sakharov. One particular evening was graced with Professor Liebes' presence, whereupon Liebes and Froman proceeded to jointly teach from the Zohar. It is available online (here).
[25] Ps. 25:14; See Tikkunei Zohar 17b, 65a; For the connection of this verse with the 33rd of the 'Omer, see R. Elimelekh of Dinov, B'nei Yissachar: Ma'amarei Hodesh Iyyar, 3:2. For an exhaustive discussion of the 33rd day of the 'Omer and its connection with Rashbi, see R. Asher Zelig Margaliot (1893-1969), Hilula d'Rashbi (Jerusalem: 1941), available online (here), On R. Asher Zelig Margaliot, see Paul B. Fenton, "Asher Zelig Margaliot, An Ultra Orthodox Fundamentalist," in Raphael Patai and Emanuel S. Goldsmith, eds., Thinkers and Teachers of Modern Judaism (New York: Paragon House, 1994), 17-25; and see also Yehuda Liebes, "The Ultra-Orthodox Community and the Dead Sea Scrolls,"Jerusalem Studies in Jewish Thought 3 (1982): 137-152 (Hebrew), cited in Adiel Schremer, "'[T]he[y] Did Not Read in the Sealed Book': Qumran Halakhic Revolution and the Emergence of Torah Study in Second Temple Judaism," in David Goodblatt, Avital Pinnick, and Daniel R. Schwartz, eds., Historical Perspectives from the Hasmoneans to Bar Kokhba in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Leiden: Brill, 2001), 105-126. R. Asher Zelig Margaliot's Hilula d'Rashbi is printed in an abridged form in the back of Eshkol Publishing's edition of R. Avraham Yitzhak Sperling's Ta'amei ha-Minhagim u'Mekorei ha-Dinim and for sources and translations relating to the connection of RaShb"I and the pilgrimage (yoma d'pagra) to his grave in Meron, see (here).

An (almost) Unknown Halakhic Work by Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi and an attempt to answer the question: who punctuated the first edition of the Shulhan Arukh?

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An (almost) Unknown Halakhic Work by Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi and an attempt to answer the question: who punctuated the first edition of the Shulhan Arukh?

 by Chaim Katz
Chaim Katz is a database computer programmer in Montreal Quebec. He graduated from McGill University and studied in Lubavitch Yeshivoth in Israel and New York.
In 1980, the late Rabbi Yehoshua Mondshine published a manuscript, which was a list of chapters and paragraphs (halakhot  and se’fim), selected by Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi (RSZ), from the Shulhan Arukh (SA) of Rabbi Yosef Karo.[1](RYK)


Figure 1: Part of the list of halakhot prepared by Rabbi Shneur Zalman and the preliminary and concluding notes written by R. Isakhar Ber.

R. Isakhar Ber, who copied the original manuscript, explained the purpose of the list in a preliminary remark:

A concise study method of essential laws from the beginning of Shulhan Arukh  Orah Hayim until the end of the Shabbat laws - to know them fluently  by heart, from Admur  (our master, teacher and Rebbe), our teacher Zalman of Liozna.

R. Isakhar also added an epilogue:

I copied all of the above, from the beginning until the laws of Pesah, but I didn't check it completely to verify that I copied everything correctly and G-d willing when there's time I will check it. Prepared and researched by the Rabbi and Gaon, the great light, the G-dly and holy, our teacher, Shneur Zalman, may his lamp be bright and shine, to know it clearly and concisely, even for those people who are occupied in business. Therefore I thought I won’t withhold good from the good.  Isakhar Ber, son of my father and master ... Katz, may his lamp be bright, of the holy community of Shumilina and currently in Beshankovichy.

The manuscript was probably composed (or at least copied), between the years 1790-1801, when RSZ lived in Liozna. The existence of this list isn’t acknowledged in any source that Rabbi Mondshine was aware of, and obviously the list was never published in book form, either because RSZ decided not to publicize it or because the list was simply put aside and forgotten.

RSZ wasn’t the first who envisioned a popular digest of the SA. Rabbi Yehuda Leib Maimon lists four works that preceded the famous Kitzur Shulhan Arukh.[2]They preceded RSZ’s work as well and are all quite similar although they also have their differences.



Figure 2: First edition of Shulhan Tahor by Rabbi Joseph Pardo (from Hebrewbooks.org). The page summarizes three and a half chapters of the original Shulhan arukh. Note how the author sometimes combines the words of RYK with the words of Rema (line 11).

Shulhan Tahor covers Orakh Hayim and Yore Deah. Others have a narrower scope and cover only Orah Hayim. RSZ covers even less. Some collections are abbreviated extensively; others include more details.[3]There are variations in the language and content; some quote opinions of later authorities, some quote Kabbalah, some re-cast the language of the SA and some retain the language as much as possible.




Figure 3: Pardes Rimonim by Rabbi Yehudah Yudil Berlin, (from Hebrewbooks.org), composed in 1784. Note the author quotes Ateret Zekenim, (R. MM Auerbach, published in 1702). The additions in parenthesis are by the publisher of the 1879 edition.

The authors of each of these works possibly had two goals in mind. One of the goals was to make the basic rules and practices of the SA more accessible. To this end, certain subjects or details were left out because they were too technical for the chosen audience. Other rules were omitted because the situations to which they applied happened only infrequently (בדיעבד). Many regulations were left out because daily life and its circumstances had changed so much since the sixteenth century.

The other goal, and arguably the primary goal, was to provide a text of law that could be memorized. In the introduction to Shulhan Tahor, the author’s son writes: “every man will be familiar and fluent in these laws (שגורים בפי כל האדם)”. Likewise, the author of Pardes Rimonim defines the purpose of his work: “so that the reader will be fluent in these rules (שגורים בפיו) and will review them each month”.  In the introduction to the Shulhan Shlomo, the author writes: “Put these words to your heart and you won’t forget them”, and the motive of R. Shneur Zalman’s work is:  “to know [these laws] fluently by heart”.



Figure 4: Introduction of Rabbi Yosef Karo - from the first edition of the Shulhan Arukh, published in Venice in 1565 where memorization is emphasized (from the scanned books at the website of the National Library of Israel, (formerly the Jewish National and University Library.)

The tradition of memorizing practical laws goes back to RYK himself, and probably goes back even earlier.[4]RYK writes in the introduction to his Shulhan Arukh:

I thought in my heart that it is fitting to gather the flowers of the gems of the discussions [of the Beit Yosef] in a shorter way, in a clear comprehensive pretty and pleasant style, so that the perfect Torah of G-d will be recited fluently by each man of Israel. When a scholar is queried about a law, he won't answer vaguely. Instead, he will answer:  “say to wisdom you are my sister”. As he knows his sister is forbidden to him, so he knows the practical resolution of every legal question that he is asked because he is fluent in this book...  Moreover, the young (rabbinical?) students will occupy themselves with it constantly and recite its text by heart…

I’m working on a phone version of RSZ’s work using the first print of RYK’s SA for that portion of the text. However, (aside from the difficulty of text justification in an EPUB), there is one typesetting decision that I’m wondering about.  The first edition of the SA is punctuated with elevated periods and colons.  The colons always separate each halakha, but infrequently colons appear in the middle of a halakha. Sometimes followed by a new line and sometimes not. The periods may appear in the middle of a halakha, sometimes followed by horizontal white space and sometimes not.

Hebrew printing (of holy books) hasn’t changed all that much in the past 450 years; the colons at the end of each paragraph are present in most current editions of the Shulan Arukh, but the periods, colons and white space in the middle of the paragraphs have largely been ignored in subsequent prints.[5]Do I try and duplicate this punctuation or not? Here are two examples where I replaced the elevated period and colons with modern periods, but tried to keep the original layout.




Figure 5: Note the raised periods and colons in the first print (from the National Library of Israel web site).



Figure 6: Screenshot of a digital version of R. Shneur Zalman’s composition. Note periods and line feeds.



Figure 7: Facsimile of the first print of Shulhan Arukh - beginning of chapter 11. See the colons in in the fourth halakha.



Figure 8: Screenshot of my smart phone version of R. Shneur Zalman’s list - chapter 11

I think it’s possible that the punctuation of the first edition of the SA was copied from RYK’s manuscript. Prof. Raz-Krakozkin writes: He (Karo) insisted on personally supervising its publication and made sure that the editors followed his instructions[6]. On the other hand, I can’t explain why the punctuation marks occur so rarely.

To help decide if RYK punctuated his manuscript before sending it to the printers, we can compare other manuscripts that were printed then. For example, the Yerushalmi was first printed in Venice (1523) from a manuscript, which is still extant today.



Figure 9: Facsimile of the first print of the Jerusalem Talmud (Berakhot 1:1), with raised periods to separate word groups from the scanned books at the website of the National Library of Israel, (formerly the Jewish National and University Library.)

The printed version of the Yerushalmi has elevated periods that delineate groups of words. These markings are already found in the source manuscript in the exact same places.



Figure 10: Facsimile of Leiden manuscript of the Jerusalem Talmud (1289 CE), Brakhot 1:1 from the Rabbinic Manuscripts on line at the National Library of Israel web site, (formerly the Jewish National and University Library).

Prof. Yaakov Sussmann[7]speaks of two possibilities concerning the origin of the Talmud Yerushalmi’s punctuation. The punctuation may be relatively recent - the scribe punctuated the text or the punctuation existed in the manuscript that the scribe copied from.  Alternatively, the punctuation might be a reduction or simplification of cantillation marks that were common in much older rabbinic manuscripts. Either way, the printers didn’t invent the punctuation.

Our editions of the Gemara (the Babylonian Talmud) have colons (“two dots”) in strategic places.[8]These colons already exist in one of the first Talmud editions - the Bomberg Talmud (Venice 1523).



Figure 11: Facsimile of a page of Bomberg Talmud (Betza 21a) showing colons. (The horizontal lines near the colons are either blemishes, or markings by hand.) Note the horizontal white space after the colons.

Most volumes of the Bomberg edition were not printed from manuscript, but were copied from the Talmud printed by Joshua Moses Soncino in 1484[9]. In the Soncino Talmud, we find separators in the exact places as the colons of the Bomberg edition. The Soncino Talmud had two types of punctuation: a top comma (or single quote mark) that marks off groups of words (like the Yerushalmi has) and a double top comma (double quote mark). When Bomberg printed his edition (40 years later), his printers replaced the double commas with colons (and dropped the single commas).



Figure 12: The bottom of a page in Soncino, coresponding to the same page (21a) in Betza. Note the two elevated commas, where we have a colon and the subsequent horizontal white space. (The Soncino Talmud does not have the same pagination as us). From the National Library of Israel web site.



Figure 13: Top of the next page in the Soncino edition, corresponding to our Betza 21a. Note again 2 commas where we have a colon.

It would be difficult to trace the origins of the colons much further. We don’t know which manuscripts were used by the printers of the Babylonian Talmud, and in any case the many Talmud burnings in the 1550’s in Italy destroyed most of the manuscripts that were there. Nevertheless, there is at least one old manuscript that has punctuation marks similar to what we find in the Soncino Talmud.



Figure 14: Snippet from Gottingen University Library Talmud manuscript showing the upper double comma separator for the same page - Betza 21a (From the Rabbinic Manuscripts on line at the National Library of Israel web site, (formerly the Jewish National and University Library).)

The Gottingen manuscript is a Spanish manuscript from the early thirteenth century[10]– almost three hundred years older than the Talmud printed in Soncino. It doesn’t have the upper single commas that Soncino edition has, but it does have the same double comma in the same places that the Soncino print has.  Just to repeat: the pauses represented by colons, that we see in our Talmud are at least 800 years old!
It’s at least possible (likely?) that RYK’s own SA manuscript was punctuated just as the Talmudic manuscripts that he studied from were.
Summary
I introduced RSZ’s abbreviated (Kitzur) SA, and discussed it in the context of other similar works. I mentioned that the authors aimed at producing collections of relevant laws that could be memorized. I noted that the first edition of the SA was punctuated differently from following versions. I suggested (based on comparisons with early printed Talmuds) that the punctuation was probably the work of RYK and not the work of the printers.



[1] Mondshine, Y. (Ed.). (1984).  Migdal Oz (Hebrew), Kfar Habad:  Machon Lubavitch , pp.  419-421. Dedicated to the memory of Rabbi Azriel Zelig Slonim ob”m. Essays on Torah and Hassidut by our holy Rabbis, the leaders of Habad and their students, collected from manuscripts and authentic sources and assembled with the help of the Almighty.
[2] Maimon, Rabbi Yehuda Leib, The history of the Kitzur Shulhan Arukh (Hebrew), published in Rabbi Shlomo Ganzfried, Kitzur Shulhan Arukh, Mossad Harav Kook Jerusalem Israel 1949. The earlier works mentioned are: Shulan Tahor by R. Joseph Pardo,edited/financed by his son David Pardo, Amsterdam 1686. Shulan Arukh of R. Eliezer Hakatan  by Eliezer Laizer Revitz printed by his son-in-law R. Menahem Azaria Katz, Furth  1697. Shulhan Shlomo by Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Mirkes printed in Frankfort (Oder) 1771. Pardes Rimonim by R. Yehuda Yidel Berlin, composed in 1784 and printed for the first time in Lemberg (Leviv) 1879. 
[3] RSZ’s digest from the beginning until the end of chapter 156 contains 18,000 words while the same portion of the big Shulhan Arukh contains approximately 40,000 words. A word is loosely defined as a group of characters separated by a space or by spaces.
[4] In the introduction to the Mishne Torah, Maimonides writes: “I divided this composition into legal areas by subject, and divided the legal areas into chapters, and divided each chapter into smaller legal paragraphs so that all of it can be memorized.”  See: Studies in the Mishne Torah, Book of Knowledge Mossad Harav Kook, Jerusalem (Heb.) by Rabbi José Faur for a discussion and explanation of the study methods of Middle Eastern Jews (page 46 and following pages, especially footnote 60).
[5]The National Library of Israel, (formerly the Jewish National and University Library) has the edition of the Shulhan Arukh printed in Krakow in 1580. This is the second version with the notes of the Rema (which was first printed in 1570) and it doesn’t have the original punctuation marks.
[6] “From Safed to Venice: The Shulhan ‘Arukh and the Censor” (in: Chanita Goldblatt, Howard Kreisel (eds.), Tradition, Heterodoxy and Religious Culture, Ben Gurion University of the Negev  (2007) 91-115).  A.M. Haberman, The First Editions of the Shulhan Arukh (Heb.) on the daat.ac.il web site, (from the journal Mahanaim # 97 1965 p 31-34.) suggests that the editor/corrector of the first edition, Menahem Porto Hacohen Ashenazi created its table of contents. See also the discussion about who created the chapter headings, (a pre-requisite for the table of contents), in Gates in Halakha (Heb.), Rabbi Moshe Shlita, Jerusalem 1983, page 100. He argues that the chapter headings of the Shulhan Arukh could not be the work of Rav Yosef Karo. 
[7] Talmud Yerushalmi According to Ms Or 4720 of the Leiden University Library, Academy of the Hebrew Language Jerusalem 2001 Introduction by Yaakov Sussmann.
[8] Cf. Rashi in the beginning of Leviticus “What is the purpose of the horizontal white-space (in the text of the Torah)? It gives Moshe some space to contemplate between a section and the next section, between a topic and the next topic.  (Rashi Lev. 1:1 s.v. vayikra el Moshe (2nd) from the Sifra.
[9] Raphael Nathan Nata Rabbinovicz. Essay on the printing of the Talmud  (Hebrew).
[10]  M. Krupp in The Literature of the Sages, Oral Torah, Halakha, Mishna, Tosefta, Talmud, External Tractates (Compendia Rerum Iudaicarum Ad Novum Testamentum)
 Fortress Pr; 1987 Part 1 Shmuel Safarai ed,  p 352. 
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