Armin Wilkowitch about Shabbes Shekolim in his youth in Russia

by Gabriel Wasserman and Phillip Minden

Shabbes Shekolim (Shabbat Sheqalim) is the first of the four special Sabbaths in or near the month of Adar, when special passages are read from the Torah. In addition to the special readings from the Torah, Ashkenazic Jewry has distinguished these four Sabbaths with the inclusion of special piyyutim in the Sabbath service; these piyyutim – most, and perhaps all – are by Eleazar b. Qallir (or Qillir) of sixth- to seventh-century Eretz Yisrael, and they have been part of the liturgy of Ashkenazic Jewry ever since there has been such a thing as Ashkenazic Jewry, since before the year 1000 CE. Although many Ashkenazic communities today omit the piyyutim for Shekolim, happily there are still many Ashkenazic communities that maintain them through today, unlike many piyyutim for other occasions in the year, which have suffered almost complete extinction in living usage.

(As an aside: In the middle ages, many non-Ashkenazic communities, as well, recited piyyutim, different from the Ashkenazic ones, on the four special Sabbaths of Adar. These have fallen into complete disuse today, other than the piyyut “Mi Khamokha” by R. Judah Hallevi for Shabbat Zakhor. These piyyutim will not be the subject of this post.)

In the past, Shabbes Shekolim and the recitation, or singing, of these piyyutim had an aura of great emotional significance for many Ashkenazic communities. As an example of this, the Seforim Blog will present here a piece by Cantor Armin Wilkowitsch, originally published in the Österreichisch-Ungarische Cantoren-Zeitung (supplement to Die Wahrheit), vol. 24 no. 10 (4 March 1904), p. 10. Wilkowitsch writes here about the composition of a setting for the piyyut “Eshkol Ivvuy” (אשכל אווי), the opening of the piyyutim for Musaf of this Sabbath. Wasserman’s research, in a project to collect musical settings for all Ashkenazic piyyutim for special Sabbaths, has uncovered thirty different musical settings for “Eshkol Ivvuy,” and further research may discover far more; this piyyut was clearly very important to cantors, and communities, in generations preceding ours.

According to the biography on Geni.com, Cantor Wilkowitsch, was born in Kalvarija, in the Russian Empire (see map here), today in Lithuania. He lived most of his adult life in the Austro-Hungarian empire, and served as chief cantor of a community in Eger (Erlau, Cheb), in Hungary, for 32 years. In 1939, under Nazi occupation, Wilkowitsch got a visa to escape to America, to join his wife and children who were already there. He boarded the ship, but, in light of the terrible events going on in Europe at the time, he lost the will to live and committed suicide by jumping off the ship. Very sad, and creepy.

In his youth, Wilkowitsch was a meshorer in his native Russia. Meshorerim were a standard phenomenon in pre-modern Ashkenazic synagogues: a group of men and small boys who would accompany the cantor as a kind of choir, though without the Western rules of four-part counterpoint that define modern choirs.

Perhaps the most picturesque line in the story is: “the Special Sabbaths are coming, which are soon bound to chase the polar bear out of the land” (es kommen die ausgezechneten Sabbathe, die den Eisbären bald aus dem Land verjagen).

Wilkowitsch refers to a species of fish, eaten at shalleshuddes, by the Yiddish word shtinkes. This word may be familiar to some readers of this blog from halakhic literature (see, e.g., the commentary of Rashash on Sukka 18a, and here).

The text of Wilkowitch’s piece will be presented here, first in the original German (the educated language throughout the Austro-Hungarian Empire) and then in English translation. Hopefully it will give the readers a sense of what Shabbes Shekolim was like in those bygone days – as Wilkowitsch writes, in the Italian expression that concludes his story, tempi passati.

Jugenderinnerungen.
Von Kantor Armin Wilkowitsch.

Jüngst suchte ich unter meinen alten, längst ad acta gelegten Notenblättern herum. Wie pochte da plötzlich mein Herz, und als begegnete ich meinen besten Jugendfreunden, die mir Grüße von meiner Heimat brachte und längst vergangene und verschollene Geschichtchen auffrischten, so sprachen mich diese vergilbten, nach Moder riechenden Notenblätter an. Es waren hunderte von ein- und mehrstimmigen Kompositionen, die ich mir von verschiedenen Chasanim auf meinen Meschorer-Wanderungen mit vieler Mühe erworben hatte. Darunter auch russische und jüdisch-deutsche Liedlein, selbst Sabbathsemiroth, wie Zur mischelo ochalnu, oder Joh, ribbon olam, die ich in meinem Elternhause, im Vereine mit meinen Geschwistern, allsabbathlich sang. Später, als ich Einblick in die Harmonielehre gewann, gab ich den Semiroth regelrechte Rhythmen und bearbeitete sie für zwei Soprane und Klavierbegleitung.

Unter diesen losen Blättern fand ich u. a. für Sabbath-Schekolim einen Eschkol, welcher als Introduktion eine längere, polonaiseartige Melodie vorgespannt hatte und in einer „phrygischen“^* Tonart sich bewegte. Herr Oberkantor Singer-Wien nennt, wenn ich nicht irre, diese Skala  „jüdische Tonleiter.“ Den russischen Chasanim ist aber meines Wissens keine jüdische Tonleiter bekannt und, wie gerne ich auch uns Juden eine Eigenart in der Musik einräumen möchte, muß ich trotzdem gestehen, daß ich dieser Skala schon bei mehreren kleinrussischen Volksliedern begegnete; auch das rumänische Volkslied dürfte wohl diese Tonart sich zu eigen gemacht haben.^** Daß Anton Rubinstein die Melodie für die Worte:  „und der Sklave sprach“, in seinem  „Asra“ einem jüdischen Chasan abgelauscht hat, möchte ich stark bezweifeln. Das eine ist jedoch gewiß, daß den Deutschen diese Intervalle fremd sind, aber deswegen sind sie noch nicht speziell „jüdisch“.

Bei diesem Eschkol verweilte ich lange, lange…. Habe ich doch denselben  „mitkomponieren“ geholfen.

Der Kantor in Rußland betet nicht jeden Sabbath vor, höchstens, daß er am Sabbath-meworachim Jehi rozôn und Jechadschehu absingt, das weitere betet ein Balbos oder der Schammes, und hat der Chasan Chanukalichtlein mit den Meschorerim und Klesmorim entzündet, dann hält er seinen Winterschlaf, bis Sabbath-Schekolim, der erste von den ausgezeichneten Sabbathen, ins Land zieht.

Hui, wie tobt draußen der Sturm! Neue Schneeflocken häufen sich auf die längst zu Eis erstarrten und der grausame Winter herrscht noch mit unbeschränkter Macht. Was gilt ihm die Armut? Was die Not? Despot ist Despot! — Aber im Herzen regt sich die Hoffnung: es kommen die ausgezeichneten Sabbathe, die den Eisbären bald aus dem Lande verjagen, und ein Frühlingsahnen überkommt die geplagte Menschheit.

Es war Sabbath vor Schekolim. Wir, Meschorerim, saßen beim Chasan und halfen ihm zum Scholasch-sudos die länglichen, schmalen Stinkes (Fischlein) vertilgen. Da sprach Schimschon, der Tenor:  „Nu, Chasanleben, was wird sein mit eppes a neuen Eschkol? Wieder und aber die alten Trallalaikes?!“ Der Chasan ließ sich Majim-acharonim zum  „Benschen“ geben und machte dann eine Handbewegung, die soviel heißen sollte, wie:  „Bleibt alle hier!” Nach dem Tischgebet sprach er:  „Paßt auf!“ und fing leise eine Melodie zu singen an. Diese Melodie sangen wir, Soprane, einigemal nach, der Chasan sang indessen mit den Altisten die zweite Stimme, während die Tenöre und Bassisten sich nach eigenem Gutdünken ihre Stimmen bildeten. Und so entstand in zirka einer Stunde ein Eschkol fix und fertig, mit dem wir dann „die Welt eingenommen haben.“ Tempi passati!

Childhood memories

By Cantor Armin Wilkowitsch

Recently, I leafed through my old sheet music I had long filed away. How did my heart suddenly pound, and these yellowed sheets with their fusty odour talked to me as if I were meeting my dearest boyhood friends, who brought greetings from my homeland and revived stories long past and lost. There were hundreds of compositions for one and for several voices, which I had acquired with great effort from several chazzanim during my meshorer wanderings. Among them also Russian and Jewish-German songs, even Sabbath zemiroth such as Tzur mishelo ochalnu or Yoh, ribbon olam, which I used to sing every Sabbath in my parental home together with my siblings. Later, having gained some insight into harmonics, I gave regular rhythms to the zemiroth and arranged them for two sopranos with piano accompaniment.

Among other things, I found an “Eshkol” for Sabbath Shekolim in these unbound leaves, which was preceded by a longer polonaise-like tune as an introduction and moved in a “Phrygian”^* mode. If I am not mistaken, Chief Cantor Singer of Vienna calls this scale “Jewish mode”. As far as I know, though, the Russian chazzanim are not aware of any Jewish modes or keys, and much as I should like to grant an original feature in music to us Jews, I have to concede that I’ve met this scale in several Little Russian [=Ukrainian] folk songs already, and it can be stated that the Roumanian folk song has embraced this mode as well.^** I strongly venture to doubt that Anton Rubinstein overheard a Jewish chazzan and copied the tune for the words “und der Sklave sprach” [“and the slave said”] in his “Der Asra”. These intervals are certainly alien to Germans, but that does not make them specifically “Jewish”.

I dwelled long on this “Eshkol”… After all, I helped compose it.

A cantor in Russia doesn’t lead the prayers every Sabbath; at most he will sing “Yehi rotzon” and “Yechadshehu” on Sabbath Mevorachim, and a balbos or the shammes will lead the other prayers. As soon as the chazzan has kindled the Chanukkah lights with the meshorerim and the klezmorim, he goes into hibernation until Sabbath Shekolim, the first of the Special Sabbaths, comes round.

Oh, how does the storm rage out there! Fresh snowflakes pile onto those long frozen to ice, and grim winter still rules with unlimited power. What does it care about hardship? About affliction? A despot is a despot! But hope is rising in the hearts: the Special Sabbaths are coming, which are soon bound to chase the polar bear out of the land, and a hunch of spring spreads in plagued humankind.

It was the Sabbath before Shekolim. We meshorerim were sitting with the chazzan, helping him to devour the oblong, narrow shtinkes (little fish) during sholash-sudos. Shimshon, the tenor, then said: “So, my dear chazzan, is there maybe going to be a new ‘Eshkol’? Again and again the old trallalaikes?” The chazzan had mayim acharonim given to him for “benshen” and then waved his hand in a sense of “Everybody stay here!” When Grace After Meals was finished, he said “Listen!” and started to sing a tune in a low voice. We, the sopranos, repeated this melody a few times, the chazzan added the second voice with the altos, while the tenors and basses formed their voices as they seemed fit. And so, an “Eshkol” came into being, all done and ready in the course of approximately one hour, with which we then “conquered the world”. Tempi passati!

The Image of the Menorah in the Early Printed Hebrew Book

By Dan Rabinowitz

The menorah is one of the most recognizable Jewish symbols. Today it has been adopted by the State of Israel as her official symbol, and throughout history there are numerous examples of its use. Coins, headstones, paintings and synagogue walls etchings, lamps, mosaics, manuscripts, and books, all provide examples of the widespread usage and mediums. Many of these examples have been addressed by scholars, but there is a lacuna regarding the depiction of the menorah in the Hebrew book.[1]

Despite that it is one of the most recognizable and ubiquitous symbols, the image of the menorah barely makes an appearance on Hebrew books. The first appearance of the menorah in a Hebrew book was Yosef Yikhya’s, Torah Or, Bologna, 1538. There is appears on the verso of the titlepage. The menorah is created via micrography and extols the value of the work. The designer even correctly places the menorah on a stand (and not a solid base as shown in the Arch of Titus). [2] 

From the inception of printing, Hebrew printers, like others, created and populated their works with their unique marks. These symbols served advertising for the publisher. Perhaps the only other symbol with such wide resonance and connection to the Jews as the Menorah is the star of David. There are over 200 printers’ marks, or emblems, close to 20 examples of the Magen David, and multiple appearances of other Jewish symbols, lions, David, Solomon, eagles, but two only of a menorah. [3]

Meir ben Jacob Parenzo, (aka Parentio, Parintz, or Maggius Parentinus), operated in Venice from 1545 until his death in 1575. He apprenticed in Daniel Bomberg’s printing shop, and in 1545 he began working for the Venetian printer, Cornelio Adelkind. Although most of his career was in the service of others, he did publish a handful of books on his own. He did not own a press and likely used Bomberg’s Press. All of these books bear Parenzo’s printers mark, a menorah. Whatever ambiguity there is about his surname, his personal name, Meir, alludes to lighting, thus a natural connection to the menorah. On either side of the menorah, “This is Meir’s menorah, he is the son of Yaakov Parenzo.”

Parnezo’s mark comprises around half of the title page. This grotesque design was called out for being unique among his contemporaries, but that it was “a pathetic bid for immortality.” As a measure of divine justice, according one scholar of Hebrew Italian printing, that “Meir Parenzo, notwithstanding his hope for immortality, is completely forgotten except for a small circle of Hebrew bibliographers, who, although conscious that the individual contributions of the men they commemorate are negligible in the great current of human affairs as it flows majestically down through the ages, nevertheless handing down (or transmitting) the knowledge of the existence of so many faithful men who have contributed their share to the enlightenment of the world.” [4] 

Another printer, also a Meir, incorporated the menorah into his mark, although on a much smaller scale. Meir ben Yaakob Ibn Ya’ir, here too, the surname, Ibn Ya’ir, references light. The menorah appears inside a border, flanked by olive trees surrounded by four verses, all mentioning either oil or light. Meir was active between 1552 and 1555. He published a few books abridged books on the laws of shehitah, as well as a work on Hebrew grammar, all exceedingly rare. [5]

The menorah next makes an appearance in Moshe Cordovero’s, (1522-1570), first book, Pardes Rimonim. This illustration is not of the biblical menorah, rather it is a kabbalistic representation of the sefirot overlaid on the menorah frame. This illustration was printed in most subsequent editions of Pardes Rimonim, although not as an exact reprint of the first edition.

The first illustration of the menorah that was an attempt to depict and elucidate complexities of the biblical menorah only occurred in 1593. There were two books that include the illustration, Biurim and Omek Halakha.

R. Yaakov ben Shmuel Bunim Koppelman, (1555-1594) studied with R. Mordechai Jaffe, author of the Levush. In addition to traditional subjects, he was also well-versed in (my astronomy and mathematics. He published Omek Halakha in Cracow, 1593, a commentary on the Talmud. This slim volume of just 95 pages, is rich in illustrations, which appear on nearly every page. For example, there is a thirteen page an in-depth discussion of astrology with two full page diagrams of the lunar paths and many of the other pages include multiple illustrations. Koppelman includes a detailed diagram of the menorah with an accompanying commentary. [6]

The Biurim on Rashi was published in 1593 in Venice and attributed to R. Nathan Shapira. Shapira had died in 1577; his work includes three illustrations, the menorah, a map of Israel, and a diagram of how the spies carried the large bunch of grapes. This is the first Hebrew book to contain a map.

The book is one of the handful of examples of literary forgeries in Hebrew books. R. Shapira’s son, Yitzhak, published his father’s comments on Rashi in 1597 in a work titled Imrei Shefer. In the introduction he explains why there are two books that are attributed to his father on the same topic published within a few years of one another.

ואתם קדושי עליון אל תתמהו על החפץ שזה שתנים ימים יצא בדפוס איזה ביאורים הנקראים על שם הגאון אדוני אבי ז”ל, כי המציאוהו אנשים, אנשי בלי עול מלכות שמים, חיבור אשר מצאו, ומי יודע המחבר אם נער כתבו ורצו לתלותו באילן גדול אדני אבי ז”ל, חלילה לפה קדוש להוציא מפיו דברים אשר אין בהם ממש, כי הכל תוהו ובוהו ומזויף מתוכו, כלו עלו קמשונים כסו פניו חרולים. וכאשר הגיעו הספרים ההם בגלילות אלו הכרוז בהסכמת כל רבני ורשאי המדינות שלא ומכרו ויהיו בבל יראה ובבבל ימצא בכל ארצות אלו. ואשר קנו מהם יחזר להם המעות ולא ימצא בביתך עולה

[“Do not wonder why I am publishing what was published just two years ago, the Biurim, in my father’s name. As wicked people, people who found a book, a book which may have been written by a child. However, they wanted to use my father’s good name to publish their work. But, my father would never say such stupidities which appear in that book, their book is worthless and a forgery. When this was discovered all the Rabbis agreed that this book [Biurim] should be under a ban, no one should be allowed to keep it. Whomever purchased it should have their money returned, they should not allow a stumbling block into their home.”]

According to R. Shapiro’s son, the Biurim, is illicitly associated with his father. His son was not the only one to question the authenticity of the Biurim. R. Yissachar Bear Ellenburg in his Be’er Sheva and in his Tzedah L’Derekh states unequivocally that R. Shapiro did not write the Biurim.

The diagram of the menorah does not appear in Imrei Shefer. [7]

The diagram of the menorah appears in Yosef Da’at printed in Prague in 1609 by Rabbi Yosef ben Issachar Miklish (1580 -1654). He was a student of the Maharal of Prague and of Rabbi Ephraim Lonchitz, the author of the Klai Yakar. The purpose of the book was to correct errors in Rashi’s commentary. He used a 14^th century manuscript to make those corrections. To better facilitate studying Rashi, the book includes illustrations including the menorah. This a full page with detailed descriptions of each part of the menorah. Interestingly, the base seems to combine two different approaches, one that has three legs and the other with a solid base. Miklish reproduces a solid base on top of three legs.

In 1656/57 Yalkut Shimoni with the commentary of Berit Avraham was published in Livorno, Italy. This one includes a menorah created via micrography, but unlike the others that appear at the front of the books, this one appears at the end. It is a colophon.

A unique example of the menorah appears in the 1684 edition of the Humash. It is the sole illustration on the title page. When the menorah appears on the title page, it is almost always in conjunction with other vessels or other symbols. This is perhaps the only instance of a stand-alone menorah on a title page.

The next appearance is the first time it illustrated a titlepage, in R. Shabbati ben Joseph Meshorer Bass’s (1641-1718), most well-known work, his commentary on Rashi, Siftei Hakhamim. This edition was published in Dyhernfurth, Germany at Bass’s press. This was the second edition of the work, (the first was published in 1680 in Amsterdam), and includes one of the most unusual Hebrew titlepages.

The titlepage depicts Moshe and Aaron, with the ark and other temple vessels, and prominently, and occupying the bottom third of the page, a menorah. Bass makes multiple luminary allusions on the title page. This edition includes

“.עם תרגום אנקלוס וביאור מאור הגדול רש״י ז״ל: ועליו מפרשי דבריו ככוכבים יזהירו: ובש״בעה נרות יאירו”

The menorah makes another appearance on the next page. Like the Torah Or, Bass uses micrography, in praise of the book, to form the shape of the menorah.

Aside from the figurative arts there was also a musical component to the page. This is not surprising as Shabbati was a musician and singer, and a noted bassist singer, hence the “Meshorrer”/“Bass” surname. On the bottom of the page, in the left corner, appears “Az Yashir Moshe” the beginning of the one of the fundamental Jewish musical pieces, and musical notes appear at the bottom of the page, in what appears to be a composition of sorts. This is one of the few times musical notations appears in early Hebrew religious books. Another is Immanuel Hayi Ricci’s commentary on the Mishna, Hon Ashir, printed in Amsterdam in 1731. Appended to the end of the book are three songs, two set to music with notation.

Another menorah appears in Bass’s edition. On the next page, like the Torah Or, the menorah is comprised of micrography extoling this edition with the commentary. [8]

In 1694, R. Avraham Tzahalon published a portion of his grandfather’s, R. Yom Tov Tzahalon’s (c. 1559-1638), responsa. R. Yom Tov was a child prodigy, only eighteen when he published his first work. That same year he was included in granting an approbation alongside R. Moshe Tarani (Mahrit) and R. Moshe Alschech. R. Yom Tov was no shrinking violet. And he had a dim view of R. Yosef Karo’s Shulhan Arukh. He belittled it, calling it only fit for children. The title page and the verso of the 1694 edition include depictions of the temple vessels and specifically the menorah. But his responsa do not discuss the temple vessels and this was included, “to beautify and embellish the title page of the book in a manner fit for print; the students illustrated holy concepts, the form of the Tabernacle and the Third Temple.” A rare of example of acknowledging the aesthetic beauty in the Hebrew book.

Three years later, the Italian scholar, Moshe Hafetz, (1663-1711), (aka Moses Gentili) published Hannukat ha-Bayit which discusses the Temple in great detail and includes numerous illustrations. Because of the illustrations, the book was printed in two parts. First all the text was printed with space left for the illustrations and illustrations were then added using etched copperplates.

His other work, Melekhet Mahshevet, includes his portrait, the first rabbinic portrait included in a Hebrew book, which is somewhat controversial because he is bareheaded. In a 19^th century edition, a yarmulke was drawn on his head.[9]

The Bass titlepage served as the model for another lavishly illustrated titlepage. Although it served as a model, it was only a model and not a perfect facsimile. This was intentional. In this instance, the Menorah was the most important visual element of the titlepage and therefore is significantly larger than before and is in the center not the bottom of the page. Of course, this is because the book’s title includes menorah, Menorat haMeor. The book’s structure is based upon the biblical menorah and divided into seven parts, like the seven branches of the menorah. The title page was likely executed by the well-known engraver, Avraham ben Jacob, whose lavishly illustrated 1695 edition of the Haggadah, remains among the most remarkable illustrated haggadot and served as a model for dozens of other illustrated haggadot. Like in the Biruim, Jacob also produced a map, this one much more refined than the basic one in the Biruim. It is a large fold-out map of the Jews travels from Egypt to Israel. Most of his illustrations are copied from the Mathis Maren, a Christian, whose biblical illustrations were very popular. [10]

The illustration was reused by another Amsterdam printer, Solomon Proops, in 1723. Thus, this is one of the few instances of Hebrew titlepage images reflecting the title or the work itself rather than serving a mere ornamental purpose. The titlepage imagery was reused for a 1755 edition of the Torah. This time the menorah is significantly reduced in size.

While these menorahs depicted in Hebrew books, might differ in small details, they are consistent in depicting curved, and not straight, arm. Nearly every manuscript and all the archeological finds similarly depict the curved branches. Of late, this is subject to controversy. The Lubavitcher Rebbe heavily promoted his position that the arms of the biblical menorah were straight and not rounded. In the main, he based this on a manuscript in the Rambam’s hand that includes a depiction of the menorah with straight arms and the confirming testimony of his son that, according to Rambam, the arms were straight. This produced one of the more unusual exchanges in a haredi journal, in his instance, Or Yisrael, published in Monsey, New York. Those historic and documentary materials are used by R. Yisrael Yehuda Yakob, from Kollel Belz, as evidence against the Rebbe’s position. The article uses the mosaics in the 7^th century Shalom al Yisrael Synagogue. The menorah is at the center of a large mosaic. The inscription near the mosaic indicates that the entire congregation, men, women, old and young, all took part in the creation of the mosaic. The Burnt House in Jerusalem’s Old City, that dates to the Second Temple period. Yakob then moves on to numismatic, citing a coin from the Hasmanoim period. Section three is then devoted to a discussion of the menorah on the Arch of Titus. Yakob references unidentified “hokrim” who posit that the base of the menorah was broken en route to Rome and was replaced with a base of a Roman creation. This explains why the base does not conform with the Rabbinic description and contains bas reliefs of various mythical and real animals. It was not the true one. Although unidentified, this position is that of the former Chief Rabbi of Israel, Rabbi Herzog as well as the nineteenth-century British Protestant academic, William Knight. Only in section four does Yakob turn to the more traditional Medieval Jewish commentaries. Ultimately, Yakob concludes that the rounded arms is the correct depictions and “justifies” the custom to draw it that way. Following the text, is a reproduction of the menorah from the second century synagogue, Dura Europas. A most unusual conclusion for a rabbinic article. (The image of the Dura Europos menorah actually depicts a straight arm menorah, that follows the Rebbe’s opinion. This is one of the only archeological examples of a straight arm menorah. The value of this image, however, is questionable. The menorah appears four times at Dura Europos. The straight arm one appears at the upper left corner of the opening for entrance. But, in the panel that specifically depicts the Mishkan and its vessels, there is a rounded arm menorah. While we don’t know what to attribute the differences to, it is more likely that greater care was placed in the accurate reproduction of the menorah within the context of the mishkan rather than were it serves as mere decoration.)

As would be expected, there was a rebuttal article that is more in line with the Haredi approach. The author concedes that his main objection is to Yakob’s approach, the “fundamental point which is almost litmus test of one’s religiosity: any evidence adduced from pictures and archeological evidence, God forbid, to rely upon these things or the conclusions of archeologists.” Although never directly discussed, presumably the author would dismiss the examples in the Hebrew book.[11]

* I would like to thank the bibliophile par excellence, Marvin Heller, for his assistance and close read of the article, and William Gross, whose library of objects and books is among the richest private collections, and provided most of the images, with credit to the Gross Family Collection. Many are available at the Center for Jewish Art website (https://cja.huji.ac.il/browser.php).

[1] See for example, Rachel Hachlili, The Menorah, The Seven-Armed Candelabrum (Leiden: Brill, 2001) who exhaustively catalogs the examples of menorah depictions but does not discuss the Hebrew book.
[2] For the history of the menorah, see Steven Fine’s comprehensive study, The Menorah, From the Bible to Modern Israel (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2016). Also see L. Yarden, The Tree of Light, A Study of the Menorah (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1971.
[3] Avraham Yaari, Degali Madfisim ha-Ivriyim (Jerusalem: Hebrew University Press, 1944), see index s.v. magen David and menorah; Yitzhak Yudlov, Degali Madfisim (Jerusalem: Old City Press, 2002); For examples of lions, eagles, and fish, see Marvin Heller, Essays on the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Leiden: Brill, 2021), 5-84
[4] See Steinschnider, Catalogus Libr Hebr., col. 2984, no. 8761 (discussing his surname); Yaari, Degali, 128-29; Encyclopeadia Judaica, vol. 13 col. 101-02 (1996); David Amram, The Makers of Hebrew Books in Italy (London: Holland Press, 1963), 367-71.

Parenzo may have a second printers mark that only appears once, in the 1574 Bragadini edition of the Rambam. On the verso of the title page is, according to EJ, “a rather daring design” illustrating Venus hurling arrows at a seven-headed dragon. Unmentioned is Venus’ clothes, or lack thereof.

This mark is similar to the Cremona-Sabbioneta, printer, Vincenzo Conti’s mark, with the seven-headed hydra. His, however, has Hercules rather than Venus.

A nude Venus was also used by Allesandro Gardano for his printers mark. He only published one book, a pocket edition of the Shulhan Orakh in 1578. A naked Venus rising appears at the bottom.

Hans Jacob, who published in Hanau in the 1620s, also has a naked Venus rising from a seashell at the bottom of at least four works, R. Moshe Isserless, Torat Hatas, Sefer Mahril, and a Siddur.

For a detailed discussion of Parenzo’s printing activities, see A.M. Haberman, “Ha-madfeshim beni R’ Yaakov Parenzoni be-Veniztia,” in Areshet 1 (1959), 61-88.
[5] See Yudolov, Degali Madfisim (Jerusalem: Old City Press, 2002), 23-24.
[6] See Marvin Heller, “Jacob ben Samuel Bunim Koppelman: A Sixteenth Century Multi-Faceted Jewish Scholar,” Gutenberg-Jahrbuch (Mainz, 2018), pp. 195-207.
[7] Introduction Imrei Sefer, Lublin 1697 (on differences in the printings of the Imrei Shefer see Yudolov, Areshet, 6 (1981) 102 no. 7); Biurim, Venice 1693; R. E. Katzman, “Rabbi Nathan Nata Shapiro – Ha-Megaleh Amukot” in Yeshurun 13 (Elul 2002) 677-700; Introduction [R. E. Katzman], Seder Birkat HaMazon im Pirush shel R. Noson Shapiro, 2000 Renaissance Hebraica, 1-10.
[8] His original surname may have been Strimers. See Shimeon Brisman, A History and Guide to Judaic Bibliography (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 1977), 267n.33. For additional biographical information see id. collecting sources.
[9] Dan Rabinowitz, “Yarlmuke: A Historic Cover-up?,” (here) Hakirah (4).
[10] Regarding the map, see Harold Brodsky, “The Seventeenth-Century Haggadah Map of Avraham Bar Yaacov,” in Jewish Art 19-20 (1993-1994): 149-157; David Stern, “Mapping the Redemption: Messianic Cartography in the 1695 Amsterdam Haggadah,” in Studia Rosenthaliana 42/43 (2010-2011), 43-63; Amir Cahanovitc, “Mappot be-haggadot pesah” (Masters thesis, Achva Academic College, 2015), 34-85. For a discussion of this edition and reproductions of some of its images and a comparison with Mathew Merian’s illustrations see Cecil Roth, “Ha-Haggadah ha-Metsuyyeret she-bi-Defus,” Areshet 3 (1961), 22-25; Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi, Haggadah and History (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 2005), plates 59-62, 67, 69.
[11] See R. Yisrael Yehuda Yakob, “Tzurot Kani Menorah,” in Or Yisrael 18 () 131-139; R. Nahum Greenwald, “Kani Menorah Ketzad Havei,” in Or Yisrael 18 () 140-154.

Daf Yomi: Seforim on Chagigah

By Eliezer Brodt

Daf Yomi just began learning Masseches Chagigah. Earlier this week I had a conversation with Rabbi Moshe Schwed of All Daf.

The purpose of the conversation was to briefly highlight some of the rishonim and acharonim “out there” on this messechtah, adding some tidbits of interest about them. We recorded it and it’s available for viewing here and here.

It is only 32 minutes long. Many aspects could have been discussed at much greater length but R. Schwed had mercy on potential listeners!

If you are interested in a PDF of the article I quoted from my friend R’ Stahl about the origins of a famous story related to Chagigah send me an Email at eliezerbrodt@gmail

IYH there will be a Part two to Masseches Chagigah which will exclusively about R’ Eliyahu Gutmacher.

This is an experiment which we are trying on the Seforim Blog and we hope to have other presentations from others over time. Feedback or comments of any sort are appreciated.

This is the ninth such conversation I have had with him of this kind this year (earlier we discussed Yerushalmi Shekalim [here], Yoma [here], Rosh Hashanah [here] Taanis [here] Megillah [here] and Moed Koton part one [here], part two here and part three here).

Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn – A Multi-faceted Erudite Scholar

By Marvin J. Heller[1]

Jewish history and literature is replete with individuals of stature, men of repute, leaders in their generation, whose memory has not fared well over time. Their reputations and accomplishments notwithstanding, they are not well remembered today, excepting in rabbinic or academic circles. This is, of course, not only a Jewish phenomenon, but our concern is with one individual in particular, prominent in his time in the Jewish community, justifiably so, but, outside of the aforementioned circles is, for the most, forgotten today. Among those who were prominent in their time but are not well known by the general public is R. Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn.

Heilbronn (or Halpron), a late sixteenth and early seventeenth century rabbi, was a highly regarded Talmudic scholar, evident from the esteem in which he was held by his correspondents and in the approbations to his work, as well as being a mathematician. Heilbronn was the author, compiler, and translator of several varied books on different subjects, indicative of his erudition. In this article we will briefly recount Heilbronn’s life and career and then, in somewhat greater detail, describe his literary works. Mordecai Samuel Ghirondi and Hananel Neppi, suggest that Heilbronn was a student of R. Samuel Judah Katzenellenbogen (1521-97) the son of R. Meir Katzenellenbogen (Maharam of Padua, 1473–1565).[2] Born in Italy to an Ashkenaz family, Heilbronn studied in Prague, afterwards traveling through cities in Germany and Italy, earning his livelihood from teaching. Heilbronn was also a tutor, among his students were the children of R. Nehemiah Luzzatto in Venice, for whom Heilbronn included a eulogy in his Nahalat Ya’akov (below).[3]

Jacob Heilbronn’s brother was R. Joseph ben Elhanan Heilbronn, who eventually settled in and became a resident of Posen. Also a person of repute, today Joseph Heilbronn is considered a German Jewish scholar. However, not only is he also poorly recalled, when Joseph Heilbronn is remembered, it is often as Jacob Heilbronn’s brother. Joseph Heilbronn was the author of Em ha-Yeled (Prague, 1597) a popular elementary Hebrew grammar, among the earliest of children’s grammar books, reprinted several times. The title-page of Em ha-Yeled informs that it is concerned with the grammar of words, for a child of seven, to familiarize him with word structure, the letters comprising word structure, tenses, future and past, singular and plural, male and female. The purpose is so that he will be able to speak the holy tongue (Hebrew) clearly and to write grammatically. Joseph Heilbronn’s other works are Me’irat Einayim (Cracow or Prague, c. 1600), an index of the taryag mitzvot according to Maimonides; and Kol ha-Kore (Cracow c. 1602), brief rules of grammar for schools based on the work of R. Elijah Levita (Bahur, 1469-1549).[4]

Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn, after teaching Torah in several communities, eventually settled in Padua where he was engaged as rabbi. Padua, a city of some distinction, counted among its residence such distinguished sages as R. Samuel Archivolti (Arugat ha-Bosem, c. 1515–1611), R. Simhah Luzzatto (1583–1663), and was home to a medical school which admitted Jewish students and therefore attracted Jews throughout Europe.[5]

I

Turning to Heilbronn’s literary activity. His works are in Yiddish (Judeo-German), Hebrew, and even in Italian, reflecting the composition and needs of contemporary Jewry. The Yiddish texts, three are noted here, were all printed at the press of Giovani di Gara. That press, active from 1564 to 1611, printed more than 270 books, primarily in Hebrew letters, and only infrequently in non-Jewish languages. Of that number, almost a third are seventeenth century imprints. Di Gara published a wide variety of books, encompassing liturgical works, Bibles, responsa, haggadot, and important first titles by authors. Given the positive reputation of the di Gara press it is not surprising that Heilbronn chose to print several of his titles with the di Gara press.

Heilbronn’s Yiddish titles are set in Vaybertaytsh, a semi-cursive type generally but not exclusively reserved for Yiddish books, so named because these works were most often read by the less educated and women.[6] These books were clearly meant for an Ashkenazi audience, for books in Vaybertaytsh were certainly not directed or intelligible to a market outside that community, but also evidence that that market was sufficiently large enough to justify the publication of works for a particular element of rather than for the entire Jewish community.

Orech Yamim – We begin our review of Heilbronn’s literary activity with his translations into Yiddish of several short but substantial works. The first of these titles is Orech Yamim, an ethical work by R. Samuel ben Jacob Benveniste, one of the sages of medieval Spain. The words Orech Yamim appear in several biblical verses, but based on Benveniste’s references, the appropriate verse appears to be “With long life (orech yamim) I will satisfy him, and show him My salvation” (Psalms 91:16).

Orech Yamim is an ethical manual for parents and children emphasizing the education of children, as well as addressing the subjects of haughtiness and humility.[7] There is a dedication by Heilbronn to Rosa, wife of the official קצין R. Nehemiah Luzzatto of Venice.[8]

First printed in Constantinople (c. 1580), Orech Yamim has proven to be a relatively popular work; it has been reprinted several times in various locations and translated into different languages, most often Yiddish, beginning with this Venice edition in 1599. Approximately a year after this edition appeared a Hebrew edition was published, also in Venice.[9] The 1599 Yiddish edition was printed as an octavo (8⁰: 16 ff.) at the Venetian press of Giovanni di Gara. This is in contrast to the c. 1600 Hebrew edition, also printed in Venice, but at the press of Daniel Zanetti as a sixteenmo (16⁰: 7ff.).[10] There was, three centuries later, even an Arabic edition (Baghdad, 1929).

1599, Orech Yamim

1602, Dinnim ve-Seder

Courtesy of the National Library of Israel[11]

Keter Malkhut – In 1600, the di Gara press published Keter Malkhut, Heilbronn’s Yiddish translation of R. Solomon ben Judah Ibn Gabirol’s (Arabic Abu Ayyub Sulayman ibn Yahya ibn Gabirul; Latin Avicebron, c. 1021-1057) Keter Malkhut. issued in octavo format (8⁰: 24 ff.) Keter Malkhut has been described as,

rhymed prose dealing in high style with the essence of God, the work of the creation, with a description of the “spheres,” and a confession of the low condition of man, prone to sin. . . ;.

Keter Malkhut opens with praise for the Creator and an account of His attributes: His unity, existence, eternity, and life and His greatness, power, and divinity. God is also described as “Light,” according to the neoplatonic image of the deity, “Thou art the supreme light and the eyes of the pure soul shall see thee” (tr. Lewis, 31). Nevertheless, Gabirol stresses that God and his attributes are not distinguishable: we refer to attributes only because of the limited means of human expression.[12]

There is a dedication to Kilah, the wife of the official קצין R. Mendel Ottolenghi, presumably a member of the renowned Italian family of that name.[13]

Dinnim ve-Seder (Seder Meliḥah) – In 1602, Heilbronn published Dinnim ve-Seder (Seder Meliḥah), an important work on the principles of salting meat. This edition, in Yiddish, is based on R. Moses Isserles’ (Rema, c.1525/30–1572) Torat Hattat, which in turn follows the Sha’arei Dura of R. Isaac ben Meir Dueren (late 13th century) with additions according to the customs of Polish and German Jewry. The Rema, among the foremost halakhic authorities and the leading decisor for Ashkenazim, is best known for his Haggahot or ha-Mappah, glosses on the Shulhan Arukh. Dueren, a German halakhic authority, resident in Dueren in Germany, was an authority on the laws of issur ve-hetter (dietary laws)..

The Rema’s purpose in writing Torat Hattat was that due to the popularity of Sha’arei Dura, a work of considerable brevity, people wish to learn it while [standing] on one foot. Torat ha-Hattat is not, however, merely a clarification of Sha’arei Dura, although arranged according to and following the former work, but its purpose, as Rema writes, is not only to add contemporary customs, to which Rema placed great weight, but to teach practical halakhah. Furthermore, many of the laws, particularly in the area of issur ve-hetter, as explained by R. Joseph Caro (1488 –1575) in his Shulhan Arukh, which had become widespread, are not applicable in these lands, that is Poland and other Ashkenazi communities.

Torat Hattat was first printed in Cracow in 1569, and reprinted in 1577 and 1590. This, the first Yiddish edition, was published by the di Gara press in octavo format (8⁰: 8 ff.). It has a dedication to Moskita, daughter of R. Hezkiah Perinto. There is also a memorial address on the death of R. Avigdor Cividal (Zuidal, d. 18 Heshvan, [5]362 = November 18, 1601), rabbi in Venice.[14]

These three titles, translations of distinguished works into Yiddish by Heilbronn, are varied. Orech Yamim and Dinnim ve-Seder, while quite different in subject matter, the former an ethical manual emphasizing the education of children, as well as addressing the subjects of haughtiness and humility, the latter dealing with the principles of salting meat, are eminently practical works, addressing that part of the community that was less learned but had a serious need for the books’contents. In contrast, Keter Malkhut, while unquestionably a work of great value does not appear to fit the practical pattern of the two other works. Heilbronn’s motivation is publishing Keter Malkhut is unclear.

Even less clear is Heilbronn’s purpose in dedicating each of these works to apparently unrelated women, even if married and women of great virtue. That would appear, unless with good reason or of close relatives, to be inconsistent with Jewish values. One needs assume that Heilbronn, a respected rabbi, translator of an ethical work, had good reason for doing so, even if for reasons that are unclear, but were appropriate.

II

Kizzur Abrabanel – We turn now to Heilbronn’s Hebrew works.[15] The first of Heilbronn’s three Hebrew titles is Kizzur Abrabanel, an abridgement of Don Isaac ben Judah Abrabanel’s (1437–1508) commentaries on Pirkei Avot and the Pesah Haggadah. A noted statesman, biblical exegete, and philosopher, Abrabanel’s works encompass commentaries on the Torah, most books of the Bible, and philosophical works. Abrabanel served as an advisor and financier to kings in Portugal and Spain, electing to go into exile at the time of the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492. Among his books are these commentaries on Pirkei Avot, entitled Nahalat Avot, and on the Pesah Hagadah, entitled Zevah Pesah.

Kizzur Abrabanel is an abridgement of Nahalat Avot and Zevah Pesah; it was published in 1604-05 in Lublin at the press of Zevi ben Abraham Kalonymous Jaffe as a quarto (4⁰: 79, [1] ff.). Both titles, apart from the abridgement, were printed in Constantinople in 1505 and reprinted several times in the sixteenth century; Nahalat Avot was reprinted in Venice (1545, 1567) and Zevah Pesah was reprinted in Venice (1545), Cremona (1557), Riva di Trento (1561) and Bistrowitz (1592). Both works have proven popular, were republished several times, particularly Zevah Pesah.

Abrabanel’s style in those works, as in his other commentaries, is lengthy, deep and thorough, but eminently readable. Nevertheless, it is the length of his commentaries that made an abridgement attractive.

The title page describes Kizzur Abrabanel as having been written by Heilbronn, known by all as Hertzkes, who diligently sat in the tent of Torah where sat the sages full of mitzvot like a pomegranate and saw that lengthiness hindered others from doing so. Heilbronn, therefore, for the public good, abridged these works so that they could be quickly read. The title page is dated Wednesday, 25 Sivan 364 (June 2, 1604). The colophon dates completion of work to Friday, Rosh Hodesh Adar “and Jacob had scarcely gone out from the presence of Isaac ויהי אך יצא יצא יעקב מאת פני יצחק (365 = 30 Shevat = February 18, 1605) his father” (Genesis 27:30). On the verso of the title page is an approbation signed by eight geonim in Jaroslav. Next is Heilbronn’s introduction

the commentary of the great Rav, wonder of the generation [Don Yitzhak] Abrabanel on Avot and the Pesah Haggadah, a truly wonderful commentary, accepted by everyone, joining all the Mishnayot and ma’amarim together into one tent which was not done by other commentators, before and after. It was the desire of all to continually delve into and delight in it daily and “find rest for their souls” (cf. Jeremiah 6:16). . . .

1604, Kizzur Abrabanel

Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

Heilbronn continues that due to the lengthiness of Abrabanel’s commentary, perhaps excessively, people are unable to read and complete it, and therefore but “one from a city, and two from a family” (Jeremiah 3:14) even begin it and it lays in the corner of the house “all grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered it over” (Proverbs 24:31). He has therefore prepared this abridgement and taken the queries with which the Abrabanel customarily begins each section and placed them at the end of the work.

The text of Kizzur Abrabanel follows, in two columns, the text of each work in a square unvocalized font, followed by Abrabanel’s commentary in rabbinic letters. Kizzur Abrabanel is comprised of the commentary to Pirkei Avot, from 46b the commentary on the Pesah Haggadah, and at the end the queries with which the Abarbanel began topics in Avot (69a-75b) and the Haggadah (76a-79b).[16]

Despite being an attractive and functional volume, Kizzur Abrabanel has not, unfortunately, been reprinted, this being the only edition of Kizzur Abrabanel.

Nahalat Ya’akov – Our second Hebrew title is Nahalat Ya’akov, responsa and halakhic novellae. Nahalat Ya’akov was published in Padua in 1622 at the press of Gaspare Crivellari in quarto format (4⁰: 51 ff.).

The title page of Nahalat Ya’akov has a six-part frame comprised of floral patterns. The text states that Nahalat Ya’akov is responsa on halakhic matters (dinim) concerning monetary issues, dietary laws (issur ve-heter), and commentary on various subjects in Tosafot and Rashi. These were collected and assembled from “elderly rabbis רבנן קשישי (Berakhot 30a, 46b) who were in his days,” and to whom he submitted queries and received responses, טו”ב (17) in number and enumerated by name on the following page. The title page has the Hebrew date שפ”ג ([5]383) and the Arabic numeral date 1622, indicating that it was printed in the final months of 1622, when the new Jewish year has begun and the secular year had not yet concluded.

1622, Nahalat Ya’akov

Courtesy of the Fales Library and Special Collections, New York University

The verso of the title page is blank. Folio 2a has the names of the rabbis, all distinguished, with whom Heilbronn corresponded, and whose responses make up a substantial portion of Nahalat Ya’akov. Among them are R. Abraham Menahem Kohen Rapa Porto (Rapaport, Minhah Belulah), Judah Katzenellenbogen, Avigdor Cividal, Mordecai Jaffe (Levush), and Isaiah Horowitz (Shelah ha-Kodesh), the last, along with R. Kalonymus ben Samuel ha-Kohen, providing approbations. There is an introduction in a single column in rabbinic type from Heilbronn, who writes that “‘Nahalat Ya’akov (the heritage of Jacob, Isaiah 58:14) your father,’ this is my portion from all my labors and exertions.” There is a dedication to his benefactor R. Simḥah Luzzatto.

Heilbronn entitles it Nahalat Ya’akov for two reasons: it is all that he has accomplished to be an inheritance to the children of Jacob; and secondly, all will see that in it are “words of delight; [and words of truth] written in proper form.” (Ecclesiastes 12:10). The text is set in two columns in square type. The volume concludes with an index. This is the only edition of Nahalat Ya’akov.

Shoshannat Ya’akov – Our final Hebrew title, Shoshannat Ya’akov, Heilbronn’s introduction to arithmetic with mathematic puzzles. It was published together with R. Eliezer ha-Gadol’s (R. Eliezer ben Isaac of Worms, 11th cent.) Orhot Hayyim. The combined work, with the title-page heading Orhot Hayyim, was published in Venice at the press of Giovanni Caleoni in 1623 as a sixteenmo (16⁰: 12 ff.). Orhot Hayyim is a popular ethical will often erroneously credited to R. Eliezer ben Hyrcanus (1st-2nd cent.), but also appearing with R. Asher ben Jehiel (Rosh, c. 1250-1327as the author.

Shoshannat Ya’akov, our title of interest, is, as, noted above, an introduction to arithmetic with mathematic puzzles. The title-page emphasizes Orhot Hayyim, stating,

is the testament of R. Eliezer ha-Gadol, which he commanded his son Hyrcanus at the time of his passing. It was brought to press by R. Jacob Heilbronn for the public good. He has added at the end an addition of his own from his “wisdom and knowledge” (Ecclesiastes 1:16, 2:26) in arithmetic to be able to understand his fellow’s calculations and to write with allusions in the manner of esotery and appetizers of wisdom. This addition is entitled Shoshannat Ya’akov to instruct to teach the youth of the children of Israel knowledge and stratagem in concealed secrets. . . .

Shoshannat Ya’akov, includes, in addition to its arithmetic content, riddles and epigrams. Both works are set in a single column in rabbinic type, with Shoshannat Ya’akov beginning on 8a. It does not have a separate title page but rather a one-line header giving the title. At the end of the volume is verse by R. David ben Shemariah Morpurgo. An example of the contents in Shoshannat Ya’akov is the last entry (11a),

To speak in allusions so that those standing by the speaker will not understand except for his companion who knows the matter as do you but none other.

First, I will instruct you in the alef bet and afterwards how to arrange words with the five fingers of the right hand beginning with the thumb. . . .

1623, Orhot Hayyim / Shoshannat Ya’akov,

Courtesy of the Library of Agudas Chassidei Chabad Ohel Yosef Yitzhak

Moritz Steinschneider, likely referring to this work, writes informs that “arithmetical puzzles were framed in Germany by JACOB BEN ELIAKIM (613 [sic]) for primary instruction and an exercise of subtlety.”[17]

Orhot Hayyim has been frequently reprinted. This is, however, the only edition of Shoshannat Ya’akov.

III

Mitzvot Nashim – We conclude with Heilbronn’s most popular (successful) work, based on the number of times it was reprinted, that is, Mitzvot Nashim, or, in Italian,

Precetti da esser
imparati
dalle donne hebree

The above meaning precepts to be learned by Hebrew women, and continuing that it was composed by Rabbi Bini amin D’harodono (R. Benjamin Aaron ben Abraham Slonik, Solnik, c. 1550 – c. 1619) and that it was translated by Rabbi Giacob Halpron (Jacob Heilbron) into Hebrew for women with a fear of God. Precetti da Esser Imparati is a translation into Italian of R. Benjamin Slonik of Grodno’s (c. 1550 – c. 1619) Yiddish Seder Mitzvot Nashim (a lovely booklet for women). Precetti da Esser Imparati was published in Venice in 1616 at the press of Giacomo Sarzina as a 20 cm. book ( [10], 3-101, [11] pp.).

The title-page is followed by a dedication to Alla Molta Magnifica et Nobilissima Signora Osservandissima, La Signora Bona Consorte Delmolto Magnifico, & Nobelissimo Signor Lazero d’Italia Hebreo in Mantova (below, left). Again, a dedication to a woman, with the comment noted earlier.[18] It should be noted, however, that there is no impropriety suggested, as the dedications are not only done publicly but in books with approbations from highly regarded rabbis.

1616, Mitzvot Nashim – Precetti da esser imparati dalle donne hebree

Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

Mitzvot Nashim is on the three mitzvot specific to women, the laws of niddah, hallah, and lighting of Sabbath candles, which, if not observed, “are the three transgressions for which woman die in childbirth” (Shabbat 31b). The text, in Italian with occasional Hebrew, is comprised or one hundred thirty-seven chapters followed by a listing (below, right) of the mitzvot; 76 for niddah, 77-87 for hallah, and 88-101 for lighting Sabbath candles.

In his detailed work on Seder Mitzvot ha-Nashim, Edward Fram suggests Slonik’s efforts were educational rather than legislative in insuring proper observance of commandments. He had to consider that the book was for both readers and listeners, for both the pious and rebellious. Israel Zinberg, in his brief description of this title, describes it as being “in a tender, gentle tone ‘the little book for women’ teaches the Jewish wife and mother how she ought to conduct herself in her family life and religious-social life.” Most chapters are brief but several are quite lengthy and, in addition to the halakhic detail, include ethical, motivational and homiletic supporting material which certainly enhanced the books popularity.[19]

Slonik’s Mitzvot Nashim been a popular and much reprinted work. Four editions, beginning with a Cracow 1577 edition, are known for the sixteenth century, three printed in Slonik’s lifetime, and six are recorded for the seventeenth century, beginning with a Yiddish edition, Ein Schon Frauen Buchlein (Basle, 1602). Heilbronn’s Italian translation (Venice, 1616) has also proven to be popular and has been republished.[20]

IV

We began by noting that Jewish history and literature is replete with individuals of stature, whose accomplishments notwithstanding, are not well remembered today. Among those who were prominent in their time but are not well known by the general public today is R. Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn. A review of his life and accomplishments, particularly the books he authored and printed, suggests that he indeed was a person of accomplishment, deserving more than a passing glance. A peripatetic individual, Heilbronn appears in several locations in Europe before finally accepting a position as rabbi and settling in Padua.

It is his books that are of greatest interest and set him aside from many of his contemporaries. While his works, in most cases, are not original, they are of merit, being tri-lingual, in Yiddish, Hebrew, and Italian. They are generally adaptations of the successful and important works of others. In translating and abridging those works, Heilbronn has made them available to a much larger public, one that likely might not otherwise have had access to them. His books encompass ethical and halakhic subjects, even a mathematic work, in Yiddish, abridgements in Hebrew, and finally in Italian, making it clear that Heilbronn, in his selection of these works was erudite, and in his preparing them for a larger readership shows his concern for that public.

Admittedly, these books, abridgments and translations into Vaybertaytsh, are not such as to capture the imagination of intellectuals and academics, yet they demonstrate a concern and interest in the needs of the wider community that was, is often overlooked. Heilbronn did not do so. Indeed, Heilbronn, a rabbi in the fullest sense of the word, was, of a surety, a person of accomplishment and erudition, one concerned with the needs of his public.

The Missing Nun Verse in Ashrei[1]
Ben Zion Katz
Northwestern University

There are several alphabetic acrostics in the book of Psalms. These acrostics are found in Psalms 25, 34, 37, 111, 112, 119 and 145. Only three of these are complete acrostics – i.e., acrostics in which every letter of the alphabet is represented. Psalms 111 and 112 begin each half verse with the succeeding letter of the Hebrew alphabet following the psalm’s first word (Halleluyah). Psalm 119 is an eight-fold alphabetic acrostic with 176 verses. Psalm 34 is portrayed as a complete alphabetic acrostic in the ArtScroll siddur[2]; however, that is a misrepresentation as there is no verse that begins with the letter vav; the letter vav appears in the last half of verse 6, as it does in the last half of verses 1, 4, 5, 7, 11, 14, 16, 18, 19, 20 and 23, and is therefore not part of the acrostic. Psalms 25, 37 and 145 are also defective acrostics, in that they are missing at least one letter each (and may also have other irregularities). For example, Psalm 25 begins each verse with a succeeding letter of the Hebrew alphabet except for the letters bet (although the second word of verse 2 starts with a bet), vav and kuf (possessing a second resh verse instead). Psalm 37 begins every other verse with a succeeding letter of the alphabet, except that the daled and heh verses immediately follow each other, there are two vav and chet verses, there is no ayin verse, the peh verse follows immediately after what should have been the ayin verse (instead of skipping a verse), and the tav verse begins with a vav. Finally, Psalm 145 is famously missing a nun verse.

Psalm 145 is better known as Ashrei, because of the way it appears in the siddur. Ashrei is said thrice daily (twice in shacharit, the morning service, and once at minchah, the evening service) and is always preceded by two verses from Psalms (84:5 [whose first word, Ashrei, gives the prayer its popular name] and the last verse of the preceding Psalm [144:15]) and concludes with another verse from Psalms (115:18).

Probably because of its popularity and the prominent absence of a verse with the letter nun, the Talmud has the following discussion (Berachot 4b; my loose translation):

Rabbi Eliezer said in the name of Rabbi Avina: Whoever says Psalm 145 thrice daily is assured of a place in the world to come. Why? Is it because it is an alphabetic acrostic? But Psalm 119 is an eight-fold alphabetic acrostic. Perhaps it is because of the verse (verse 16) “You open Your hands and provide sustenance for all life as they require?” But Psalm 136:25 states “He gives food to all flesh” (expressing a similar sentiment)? [The reason is because Psalm 145] has both qualities (an alphabetic acrostic and the notion of God sustaining all life).

Rabbi Yochanan asked: Why does Psalm 145 lack a verse with a nun? Because that verse alludes to the downfall of (lit., the enemies of)[3] Israel, as it says: “Fallen, she will rise no more, the virgin of Israel” (Amos 5:2; the verse continues “She is cast out over her land, none can raise her up”). In the West (i.e., Israel, by placing the comma differently)[4]  they read the verse thus: “Fallen, (and) she will not (continue to) fall any more, rise O virgin of Israel”. Said Rabbi Nachman the son of Isaac: Even so, David prophetically alluded to this [missing] verse with the next verse [following]: “God supports all of the fallen”.

The preceding Talmudic discussion raises at least two related questions: Does the Talmud really mean that a verse in Amos should have been part of Psalm 145? And isn’t that verse (Amos 5:2) completely out of character with the rest of the Psalm, which praises God throughout? In the remainder of this paper I will propose a rationale for the approach of the rabbis of the Talmud in this case (which will have implications for other similar rabbinic speculations as well), and then proceed with a historical discussion of the missing nun verse.

It appears that the rabbis, in realizing that the nun verse is missing from Psalm 145, took a cue from the verse immediately following, as Rabbi Nachman alluded to in the Talmudic discussion above. The verse following where the nun verse should be begins: Somech Adonai lekhol ha-noflim – God supports all of the fallen. The rabbis couldn’t help but notice that the word fallen, noflim, begins with a nun, and if the verse following the missing nun verse states that God helps the fallen, the preceding may very well have started with the verb nafal. The rabbis likely then searched the Bible for such a verse, and found that there are only two verses in the entire Hebrew Bible that begin with the verb nafal – Amos 5:2 (above) and Lamentations 5:16 (“The crown of our heads is fallen, woe unto us for we have sinned”).[5] While neither are great choices from a literary perspective to precede the verse of God supporting the fallen, the verse from Amos, especially as it was reinterpreted in Israel, is less objectionable. It is possible that the rabbis meant that the verse from Psalms was somehow moved to Amos, but more likely the rabbis meant that David (prophetically) knew the verse was destined to be prophesied by Amos, did not wish to include it in Psalm 145 and instead merely alluded to it with the verse immediately following about God supporting the fallen.

There are two historical witnesses as to the text of the missing nun verse of Ashrei. The first is the Septuagint, the Greek translation of Scripture that was begun in the mid-third century BCE, in which there is an extra line in Psalm 145 where the nun verse should be, that reads: “Faithful is the Lord in his words, and holy in all his works”.[6] Scholars have long recognized that the Hebrew word “Ne-eman” means faithful or trustworthy, and could have been the Hebrew word beginning the verse from which the Septuagint translators worked. The reconstructed Hebrew verse then might have read: Ne-eman elohim bechol devarav, ve-kadosh bechol ma-asav.

The second witness is the Dead Sea scrolls, among which is a large Psalms scroll that contains parts of Psalm 145 with a refrain after each verse. See Fig. 1A, where Psalm 145 begins after the break in the column. Note that this text is written in modern, square Hebrew script, except for the Tetragrammaton, which is written using the ancient paleo-Hebrew script, perhaps as a sign of added reverence.

There are minor differences between the psalm as it appears here and in current (Masoretic) Bibles. For example, the first words in line 1 are Tefilah Le-David, a prayer of David, instead of our text, which reads Tehilah Le-David, a psalm of David[7] The first verse (line 1) also contains two names of God (although the first, the Tetragrammaton, missing in current texts, is dotted, perhaps signifying an uncertain reading).[8] A characteristic of the Dead Sea texts are that many words are spelled more fully (i.e., with more vowel letters such as aleph, heh, vav and yud) than is even seen in late Biblical Hebrew,[9] to the extent that the final heh in many instances appears awkward).[10] Notice the scribal corrective technique of adding missing words above the line[11] and the garbled line beginning with the letter kuf, where the scribe appears to have misread a few words.[12] Most noticeable is that each verse is followed by a refrain: Baruch adonay uvaruch shemo leolam vaed – Blessed is God and blessed is His name forever. Finally, there is a nun verse, (beginning the last word of line 9) similar to what it was postulated to be from the Septuagint: Ne-eman Elohim bedvarav ve-chasid bechol ma-asav – Faithful is the Lord in His words and gracious in all His works.

Now that we have seen the two ancient witnesses of the nun verse in Ashrei, several questions arise. First, why does this extra verse use Elohim (Lord) instead of God (the Tetragrammaton), which is the name of God used almost uniformly throughout the psalm? Second, the Greek text implied the word “holy” (kadosh), not “gracious” (chasid)? And finally, if this verse is authentic, why did it drop out?

The first two questions are less difficult than the third. Psalm 145, even in the current Masoretic version, has the word Elohy in the first verse, so it is not as if the form Elohim for God is absent entirely from Psalm 145 as it has come down to us. Also, the fact that the Dead Sea psalm has both names of God in verse 1 (even though one is dotted) provides a possible second usage for the form Elohim for God’s name in this psalm in antiquity. The second question is a matter of near synonyms. The third question is more profound. Perhaps because the last half of the nun verse in the Dead Sea text was exactly the same as the last half of the current verse that begins with the letter tazdi allowed it to be less memorable and more likely to be skipped or forgotten by a scribe. Recall how most of the verse beginning with the letter kuf is missing in Figure 1B (lines 17-18); if the next copyist who saw that manuscript did not know this psalm by heart, the few remaining, extraneous words from the kuf verse might very well have been deleted in the next manuscript version and the kuf verse could have been lost from the psalm as well.

One cannot prove that the nun verse(s) uncovered are original to the Hebrew Psalm 145. What can be said is that the ancient translators of the Greek Bible used a text very similar to that found in Qumran in making their translation. The rabbis, of course, did not have the Dead Sea scrolls available to them; while they did have the Septuagint and were aware of some differences between the Septuagint translations and their Hebrew text(s), the rabbis attributed most of the differences to tendentious translations performed purposefully by the Greek translators.[13]

Regarding the missing nun verse, the rabbis very cleverly tried to deduce, based on the evidence available to them, how the missing verse may have read. Whether the rabbis would have made use of the Dead Sea Scrolls had they been known in antiquity is uncertain. Whether that should prevent us from doing so is a question of hashkafah. For the more traditionally minded, any source not used by previous generations is questionable at best. For the more modern, any valid source (such as using knowledge of the ancient near East to understand the Bible) is not only useful but desirable.

Figure 1A. Psalm 145, verses 1-5. From Scrolls From the Dead Sea: An Exhibition of Scrolls and Archeological Artifacts from the Collections of the Israel Antiquities Authority, A Sussman and R Peled, Library of Congress Washington, 1993 in association with the Israel Antiquities Authority, the Field Museum, 2000, cover and second inner flyleaf, © the Field Museum. Used with permission.

Figure 1B. Psalm 145, verses 13-19. From Scrolls From the Dead Sea: An Exhibition of Scrolls and Archeological Artifacts from the Collections of the Israel Antiquities Authority, A Sussman and R Peled, Library of Congress Washington, 1993 in association with the Israel Antiquities Authority, the Field Museum, 2000, cover and second inner flyleaf, © the Field Museum. Used with permission.

Transcription of Fig. 1A, beginning after the paragraph break, the 1^st 7 lines that are completely legible:

תפלה לדויד ארוממכה יקוק אלוקי המלך 1.

ואכרכה שמכה לעלם ועד ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו 2.

לעולם ועד ברוך יום אברככה ואהללה שמכה לעלם ועד 3.

ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד גדול יקוק ומהולל מאדה 4.

לגדולתו אין חקר ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד 5.

דור לדור ישבחו מעשיכה וגבורתיכה יגידו ברוך יקוק 6.

וברוך שמו לעלם ועד הדר כבוד הודכה ודברי נפלאותיכה 7.

Transcription of Fig. 1B, beginning at the top of the column, the 1^st 13 lines that are completely legible:

וברוך שמו לעלם ועד מלכותכה מלכות כל עולמים וממשלתכה 8.

בכל דור ודור ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד נאמן 9.

אלוקים בדבריו וחסיד בכול מעשיו ברוך יקוק וברוך 10.

שמו לעלם ועד סומך יקוק לכל הנופלים וזוקף לכול 11.

הכפופים ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד עיני 12.

כל אליכה ישברו ואתה נותן להמה את אוכלמה בעתו 13.

פותח אתה את ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד 14.

ידכה ומשביע לכל חי רצון ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו 15.

לעלם ועד צדיק יקוק בכל דרכיו וחסיד בכול 16.

מעשיו ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד קרוב יקוק 17.

וברוך שמו לעלם ועד יקראוהו באמת ברוך יקוק 18.

וברוך שמו לעלם ועד רצון יראיו יעשה ואת שועתמה 19.

ישמע ויושעם ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד 20.

Key: italics = dotted word

Underlined = letter or word above the line

Notes: The Tetragrammaton is spelled יקוק, and every heh in other names of God is replaced with a kuf.

[1] I thank my brother, Edward N. Katz, MD, for inspiring me to write this paper.

[2] Sherman N. The Complete ArtScroll Siddur: Weekday/Sabbath/Festival. Mesorah Publications, Ltd. Brooklyn, NY. First edition. 1984. P. 376.

[3] Literally the Talmud states that the verse deals with the downfall of the enemies of Israel, but this is a euphemism; the Talmud does not wish to actually say the downfall of Israel. See for example, M Simon. Berakoth. The Babylonian Talmud. Seder Zeraim. The Soncino Press. London. 1948. P. 15. N. 7 and A Ehrman. Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmud. Tractate Berakhoth. El-Am. Israel. 1965. P. 66.

[4] Ibid.

[5] A Even-Shoshan. A New Concordance of the Bible. Kiryat Sefer Publishing House, Ltd. Jerusalem. 1990. Pp. 769-770 (Hebrew).

[6] Slightly modified from SCL Brenton. The Septuagint with Apocrypha: Greek and English. Samuel Bagster & Sons, Ltd. London. 1851. Reprinted Hendricksen Publishers. Peabody, MA. 1987. P. 785; this is not a scholarly edition of the Septuagint, but is popular and readily available. There is also not one single authoritative text of the Septuagint, so the expression “the Septuagint” is somewhat of a misnomer.

[7] Psalms 17 and 86 also begin with the words Tefilah Le-David, while Psalms 90 and 102 also begin with the word Tefilah.

[8] See Katz BZ. A Journey Through Torah: A critique of the documentary hypothesis. Urim. Jerusalem and N.Y. 2101. Pp. 54-55.

[9] David is spelled daled vav daled in Samuel but daled vav yud daled in Chronicles, for example.

[10] E.g., At the end of lines 4 and 19 and towards the end of line 13.

[11] Indicated by a word or letters that is/are underscored in (the transcriptions in) Fig. 1.

[12] The words אשר לכל קוראיו לכל should be in place of the first four words of line 18. It is not clear exactly how the scribe might have made this error. This is in contrast to the use of ברוך instead of בכל at the beginning of the bet verse in line 3 which could easily be explained as a scribal error due to the psalm’s constant refrain of ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד; as the verse now stands (beginning with the word ברוך in line 3) it makes little sense. A scribal error might also be the cause of the repetitious את אתה in the peh verse at the end of line 14. There is one more small difference between this psalm and the received text: the absence of a vav at the beginning of line 5.

[13] E.g., Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Megillah 9a-b.