Neturei Karta; ArtScroll, Arius, and Orangutans; Suicide and the Law of Rodef

Marc B. Shapiro

1. We have recently seen behavior by so-called religious Jews that is vile. I refer to the actions of Neturei Karta. Of course, we have all seen their antics in the past, but I think most of us looked at them as clowns and sick people that maybe we should feel sorry for. This is no longer the case. Now they are marching in support of the murderers of Jews, aligning themselves with the enemy, and attempting to destroy the State of Israel. They are doing this at the very time that Jews are being killed at war. It is true that in the past as well they openly aligned themselves with the PLO,[1] and R. Moshe Feinstein already in the late 1970s referred to Neturei Karta as reshaim.[2] But to be allied during wartime with Iran and Hamas is I think beyond what we have seen before.

Here you can see a video of a Neturei Karta delegation that went to Iran to pay respects after the death of President Raisi. Here a different delegation visits the Iranian ambassador to the U.N. to pay respects. Here they are in Qatar at the funeral of Ismail Haniyeh whose death they mourned in a public statement here. It is hard to imagine anything more obscene than this. What we have seen from Neturei Karta since October 7 goes way beyond making a hillul ha-shem.[3]

Until his death, the spiritual leader of this group was Rabbi Moshe Beck (1934-2021). Here you can see him showing his affection for the Iranian leader Ahmadenijad. In the ultimate obscenity, in his book Derekh ha-Hatzalah (Monsey, 2002), pp. 40ff., Beck actually explains why it is halakhically appropriate to congratulate terrorists on a “successful” operation, namely, when they murder Jews. Thus, it is entirely in line with Neturei Karta ideology for them to praise the October 7 “resistance.” Here is his outrageous conclusion (p. 44):

מותר לומר להפאלעסטינים יפה עשיתם שהרגתם, כיון שע“י דיבורים אלו יצמח הצלה להרבה מישראל המתנגדים לציונות

And what about the fact that even pious Jews will be hurt if Neturei Karta’s propaganda is successful and U.S. government aid to Israel is cut? Beck explains that this is not a problem, as the Zionists cannot be helped, even if the pious also would benefit (p. 41):

ועל אחת כמה וכמה לענין מורדים בה‘ וכופרים ומחטיאים כמו הציונים וכל כתותיהם, שבודאי נאסר הסיוע להם בכל אופן, אפילו שלא בענין העבירה, ואפילו יוצא תועלת מסיוע זה לצדיקים ועובדי ה‘

Over thirty years ago I was naive and thought that I might be able to have a productive correspondence with Beck. Here are three letters I received from him.

    

Regarding the third letter, I am not sure why he wrote that I “disguised” myself in my first two letters. I simply wrote to him with questions and never said or implied that I agreed with him in any way. In my second letter I actually strongly protested how he referred to Rav Kook. In his response to this letter he also answers my question how he could cite from R. Reuven Margaliyot’s commentary on Sefer Hasidim when R. Margaliyot was a religious Zionist whose book was published by Mossad ha-Rav Kook. (I never said that he was a maskil). In my third letter I attacked him for degrading great Torah scholars and I mentioned that R. Aharon Kotler supported the State of Israel. I never said he was a Zionist. My point was that once the State of Israel was declared, with the lives of millions of Jews depending on it, anti-Zionism in the sense of opposing the creation of a Jewish state was now no longer relevant. Once the State of Israel was created, anti-Zionism came to mean working to destroy the Jewish state, and thus putting millions of Jewish lives at risk. Satmar anti-Zionism is religiously based but remains entirely theoretical, even eschatological, and Satmar has always been absolutely opposed to allying with anti-Semites and terrorists and their supporters.)

See also here where a number of years ago I wrote the next few paragraphs (now updated slightly).

Readers should examine the following document, which is found in the Central Zionist Archives S25/4752

It is a copy of a letter sent to the Supreme Muslim Council in Jerusalem from Aryeh Leib Weissfish. Weissfish was later to become famous as one of the leaders of the Neturei Karta, and strangely enough he was also a great fan of Nietzsche. You can read about his colorful career here, where it mentions how he illegally entered Jordan in 1951 to bring a message from the Neturei Karta that Jordan should invade Jerusalem and the Neturei Karta would be its ally in this. When he was deported to Israel he was put on trial and sentenced to six months in prison.

In view of the fact that during World War II there was a fear that Germany would invade the Land of Israel and that this would also lead to the Arabs persecuting Jews, Weissfish wrote to the local Muslim leaders to let them know that the Old Yishuv type of Jews that he is speaking about are not involved in politics and that they oppose the Zionists. They have always treated the Arabs with respect and he therefore requests that these Jews be protected. He also offers to provide the names of the families who should be given this special treatment. As you can see from Yitzhak Ben-Zvi’s handwritten note at the bottom of the letter, Ben-Zvi copied it from the original letter which he found in the Supreme Muslim Council’s archives.

R. Shlomo Brody has recently published a fabulous book, with a great title, which is unfortunately very timely: Ethics of Our Fighters: A Jewish View on War and Morality. While I am sure I will have more to say about this book at a future time, I would for now just wish to add that when it comes to Neturei Karta and those of a similar mindset, I was wondering about some halakhic and ethical issues that Brody does not discuss. (In general, he does not discuss the home front.) For example, can such people be counted to a minyan? Are you allowed to give charity to them, and if not, how about the children who will suffer through no fault of their own? Can the children of such a family be kicked out of a yeshiva? If these people have businesses, should we boycott them, again, causing the children to suffer for the sins of their fathers? Or should we just ignore these people entirely? These questions are not only relevant when it comes to Neturei Karta, for as we have seen since October 7 there are many other enemies of Israel and the Jewish people. Some of them who support Hamas are themselves Jewish. As far as I know, there has not yet appeared an analysis of how such traitors are to be regarded in Jewish law.

2. A couple of people sent me something that was going around the internet asking what I thought, so I figured I would elaborate on the blog. Rashi, Deut. 1:12, quotes the Sifrei, Devarim, no. 13, that אריוס asked Rabbi Yose a question. In the ArtScroll translation of Rashi by R. Yisrael Isser Zvi Herczeg there is the following note on this passage: “Nothing other than what is mentioned here is known about this person. His name appears nowhere else in Torah literature.”

This is not exactly correct. As Louis Finkelstein points out in his edition of the Sifrei (p. 22), Tosefta Bava Metzia 3:11, records a question Arius asked the Sages. This is what appears in the important Erfurt manuscript of the Tosefta used by Zuckermandel in his edition, but Arius’ name does not appear in the Tosefta published in the back of the Talmud.[4]

In the updated version of the ArtScroll Rashi translation, they explain who Arius was (R. Herczeg had nothing to do with this update): “A 4^th century C.E. Christian theologian whose views on religion clashed with standard church teachings; his followers are called Arians. (An analysis of his question to R’ Yose appears in Likkutei Sichos, Vol. 34, p. 15.)

 

I do not know why someone working at ArtScroll decided it was important to add this information. I also do not know why the person who added the information did not see the immediate problem. Arius, who at most was only in the Land of Israel for a short time, was a fourth-century theologian in the period of the amoraim. How then could he be asking questions of the tanna R. Yose or any of the other tannaitic sages? This alone should have been enough to show that the Arius mentioned by the Sifrei is not the Christian theologian Arius. When the ArtScroll Rashi is next reprinted, the updated note should be deleted as it is clearly in error, and the original note should be reinserted. I have to say that I find it of interest that the updated note has a reference to the Likutei Sihot of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, a figure who does not appear often in ArtScroll publications. This reference should definitely remain.

Where did ArtScroll get the information in the new note? Perhaps from the entry on Arius in the Otzar Yisrael encyclopedia (vol. 2, pp. 192-193). The Otzar Yisrael entry states, without any evidence, that the R. Yose mentioned in the Sifrei is one of the amoraim named R. Yose, not the tanna. But there is no reason to assume this to be the case, and lots of reasons to assume it is not so. We are fortunate that the Otzar Yisrael entry has a bibliography and we are thus able to see where they got their information from: R. Elijah Benamozegh’s Em la-Mikra to Deut. 1:13, which goes on for many pages.

I have great respect for R. Benamozegh and have given a number of classes on him.[5] Yet as mentioned already, there is no reason to think that the R. Yose mentioned in the Sifrei is an amora as R. Benamozegh claims. We should assume that he is the second-century R. Yose ben Halafta for this is how the tanna R. Yose is mentioned in rabinic literature, namely, without his father’s name. I would also note that the Talmud records a number of R. Yose ben Halafta’s conversations with non-Jews. Therefore, his interaction with Arius makes perfect sense

As for Arius, Moshe David Herr believes that he must have been a convert to Judaism. Referring to his mention in Tosefta, Bava Metzia 3:11, Herr writes “This question, which manifests expert knowledge of the halakhah on the part of the inquirer, proves that he was a Jew.”[6]

Returning to R. Benamozegh, it needs to be mentioned that his commentary on the Torah suffers from the same problem as many others, in that as one who was up to date in modern historical scholarship and science, he tries to explain the Torah in the light of this knowledge. Yet mid-19^th century understandings in these areas has usually been rejected and thus cannot speak to 21^st century readers. On occasion, what he says will be found offensive by modern readers, such as his discussion of the curse of Canaan in his Em la-Mikra to Genesis 9:25. Here it is from R. Eliyahu Zini’s wonderful new edition.

Although it could be that R. Benamozegh himself held the liberal view of Tiedemann, the even-handed way he discusses the matter does not make for comfortable reading today.

R. Israel Lifshitz, the author of Tiferet Yisrael on the Mishnah, also liked to connect modern scientific discoveries with Torah and rabbinic texts. Unfortunately, not all of his information  was correct. Since R. Benamozegh mentions orangutans, let me tell you what R. Lifshitz has to say about them, which he must have read in some book or newspaper. In his commentary to Kil’ayim[7] 8:5, he states that in Africa orangutans are taught to chop trees and draw water, to wear human clothes and to sit at a table and eat with silverward. (In truth, orangatuns are not found in Africa but are native to parts of Asia.) And in case people were wondering, he also adds that despite the orangutan’s near-human characteristics, when it dies it is regarded like every other animal and does not create ritual impurity as do dead humans.[8]

Although, as mentioned, R. Lifshitz must have acquired his incorrect information about orangutans from some book or newspaper, I should note that the Talmud discusses how monkeys are capable of performing various tasks for humans and this might have influenced R. Lifshitz in assuming the same to be true of orangutans. The expression מעשה קוף is well known, and this page gives a number of talmudic references to actions of monkeys. However, the list is not complete and it omits Bava Kamma 101a which mentions a monkey dying wool with a particular dye. It also omits Yadayim 1:8 which refers to a monkey pouring water over a person’s hands. For those interested in the topic, R. Baruch Plotchek wrote an article on monkeys in the Bible and Talmud.[9] One of the interesting things he points out is that Kohelet Rabbah comments on Eccl. 6:11: כִּי יֵשׁ–דְּבָרִים הַרְבֵּה, מַרְבִּים הָבֶל, that included in the “vanity” is the raising of monkeys. This shows that when this Midrash was written, people, presumably including Jews, kept monkeys as pets. Also of interest is that Plotchek identifies what we can term proto-Darwinian ideas in some rabbinic statements. As far as I know, he was the first to make this point, which was later picked up by others trying to reconcile Torah and evolution.

3. In the last post I pointed to an interesting explanation of R. Chaim Heller that solved a textual problem. Here is another one he offered: Piskei Tosafot (at the back of the Vilna Shas), Shabbat, no. 130, states that in a city that has pigs, the buildings in it are exempt from the law of mezuzah: עיר שיש בה חזירים פטורה מן המזוזה

There is no talmudic source for this passage and on its face it is astounding, as why should the presence of pigs mean that Jews don’t need a mezuzah? If followed in practice, this text would mean that no city in the Christian world needs mezuzot. (In fact, from statements of Ashkenazic rishonim we know that in medieval Ashkenaz many people did not affix mezuzot, and perhaps this laxity arose from the view recorded in Piskei Tosafot.[10])

R. Heller suggested that there was a scribal error and that instead of עיר שיש בה חזירים the text should read דיר שיש בה חזירים, that is, a pigsty does not need a mezuzah.[11] I don’t think this emendation is found in any of R. Heller’s writings, but it is mentioned in his name by Dr. Tibor Juda, the late son-in-law of R. Pinchas Hirschprung,[12] in this video about R. Abraham Price, beginning at 36:38. R. Price was a student of R. Heller in Berlin before he came to Toronto. Not surprising, Abraham Rosenberg, whom I discussed in previous posts here and here, also mentions this emendation which he must have heard from R. Heller.[13]

This emendation is actually mentioned previously by R. Meir Soloveitchik in his Ha-Meir la-Aretz, p. 64a.[14] Here is the title page of the book.

R. Soloveitchik, after mentioning the emendation, offers his own alternative emendation:

ועוד נ“ל יותר טוב להגיה, עיר שאין בה חזירים כו‘, דטנופת הרבה מצוי בה והו“ל כמקום שהתינוקות מצוין בה

Before people start trying to figure out how this R. Soloveitchik is related to R. Chaim, let me note that there was at least one other Soloveitchik family in Europe, and this family was not levi’im like the more famous Soloveitchik family. R. Meir Soloveitchik came from the less distinguished Soloveitchiks.[15]

4. In my last post I dealt with euthanasia and suicide, and in response to that Ariel Fuss sent me something that I found truly astounding. If you had described it to me without me seeing it “inside”, I would have thought it was Purim Torah, or perhaps a halakhic paradox of the sort I have written about.[16] But no, we are talking about a real piece of rabbinic learning. Here is R. Mordechai Shlomo Carlebach, Havatzelet ha-Sharon, Vayikra (2), pp. 476-477.

R. Carlebach assumes that suicide falls under the prohibition of murder. While there are those who disagree (see Encyclopedia Talmudit, s. v. me’abed atzmo le-da’at), the majority opinion is that suicide is a form of murder, and this seems to be Maimonides’ opinion as well. R. Carlebach raises the issue of what to do if you see someone about to commit suicide. When someone is about to murder another, there is an obligation to kill the rodef. If suicide is a form of murder, R. Carlebach reasons that one who is going to kill himself is to be regarded as a rodef (of himself) and according to the halakhah you would be obligated to kill the man before he killed himself.

At first glance this seems crazy, since what sense does it make to kill a man because he is going to kill himself? But as R. Carlebach points out, by killing the man before he kills himself, you prevent him from violating the prohibition against murder, which will be a great benefit to him in the World to Come. R. Carlebach notes that when he presented this idea to R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, R. Auerbach liked what he said. Of course, it is impossible for us to know whether R. Auerbach really took the argument seriously or just smiled because it is such an interesting and counterintuitive approach.

When I shared this text with R. Moshe Maimon, and wondered whether R. Carlebach meant what he wrote seriously, he replied:

I think he means it seriously, though in a Talmudic sense, not in a practical sense. RSZA similarly approved it from a pilpulistic standpoint, knowing that R. Carlebach was in no way insinuating that this should dictate practical Halachah. To the halachic mind it is a form of mercy killing, since you are saving him from the sin of murder. Of course, practically, it could never be implemented since the modern sensibilities (at least from the Besamim Rosh and on!) dictate that one committing suicide be viewed as a victim rather than a perpetrator.

Speaking of the laws of rodef, there is another astounding passage in R. Shimon Sofer, Hitorerut Teshuvah, vol. 2, no. 157:2. R. Sofer states that if you see a cat chasing after a chicken to kill it, if the only way you can save the chicken is by killing the cat, then there is a mitzvah to kill the cat. He actually compares this to the law of rodef with a human. (At the end of the responsum he also mentions hashavat avedah and tza’ar baalei hayyim.)

See, however, R. Netanel Meoded of Hong Kong, Mizrah Shemesh, vol. 2, p. 287 n. 195, that R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach rejected the notion that there is a concept of rodef with regard to animals.

Regarding R. Sofer’s Hitorerut Teshuvah, the volumes are unusual as right at the top of each page it tell the reader not to rely on the halakhic conclusions in practice. I don’t know of any other responsa volume that does such a thing. In a future post I will cite sources that say that one does not need to pay attention when an author tells us not to rely on his rulings in practice.

5. Continuing with the new pictures of R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, here is one of him and Chief Rabbi Isaac Herzog.[17] It is from R. Herzog’s visit to Montreux in the summer of 1950.

Here is R. Weinberg in conversation with R. Bezalel Rakow, at the time a rebbe in the Montreux yeshiva and later the rav of Gateshead.

Here is R. Weinberg with Robert and Francisca Goldschmidt at the wedding of their daughter Reine to Schmuel Höchster. The Goldschmidts owned a kosher pension in Montreux and their grandson is the famous R. Pinchas Goldschmidt.

Here is R. Weinberg with Mr. Yechezkel Rand and his wife. Rand was a leader of the Montreux Jewish community.

Here is R. Weinberg with his student R. Yaakov Fink. R. Fink was able to leave Germany and make his way to Argentina in 1939. He would later serve as chief rabbi of Brazil and later of Argentina before becoming av beit din in Haifa.

The story of his aliyah is of interest. Already in 1950 he discussed moving to Israel with the Hazon Ish. He was concerned about whether this was proper since he felt a responsibility to his community in Argentina. The Hazon Ish told him without hesitation that he should come to Israel. He thought that the education of R. Fink’s children, which was problematic in the Diaspora, came before all other concerns, and therefore he – and anyone else – who could come on aliyah should do so.

Interestingly, on returning home he first traveled to the United States where he also discussed the matter of his aliyah with R. Aharon Kotler. R. Kotler had the opposite approach, telling him that he must not abandon his community. Perhaps to let him know that he should not give up all hope of aliyah, R. Kotler added that when he himself goes to Israel, then R. Fink can also come.

Years later R. Fink decided to move to Israel, after being chosen as av beit din of Haifa. He had obviously decided not to follow R. Kotler’s opinion in this matter. Yet an amazing thing was to happen. R. Fink flew to Europe with his family and spent a few weeks in Montreux with R. Weinberg, whom he had not seen since before World War II. The pictures above and below are from that visit. He then went to Paris from where he was to fly to Israel. When he boarded the plane, and saw more religious travelers than usual, he inquired what the occasion was. It was then that he learned of the passing of R. Aharon Kotler and that his coffin was being brought to Israel on that very plane. So in the end it happened just as R. Kotler told him years before, that when he would go to Israel then R. Fink could also go![18]

Here is a picture of R. Weinberg with R. Fink on the left. On the right is R. Joseph Blumenfeld who held the position of av beit din in Tel Aviv. He also lived in the United States during the 1950s and while there he printed his edition and commentary of the medieval work Kaftor va-Ferah by R. Ishtori ha-Parhi.

Here is the title page as it appears on Otzar ha-Chochmah.

Notice how the original place and date is missing and ניו יורק תשי“ח has been added to the title page. That should raise everyone’s suspicions. If you look at the version on hebrewbooks.org you can see why the original place and date were removed.

On the title page R. Blumenfeld wrote שנה עשירית למדינת ישראל. This can still be read on the copy found on hebrewbooks.org, although someone crossed this out, not liking R. Blumenfeld’s Zionist sentiments. 

Here is another example of the title page that I copied many years ago in the library of the Jewish Theological Seminary.

While in the United States, R. Blumenfeld obviously got to know Louis Finkelstein. When his work appeared he sent him a copy with a nice inscription and Finkelstein donated it to the library. The inscription might imply that Finkelstein assisted him financially in publishing the work.

Regarding R. Fink, although R. Weinberg thought very highly of him,[19] there was one time when R. Fink disappointed him. In 1952 when he was appointed chief rabbi in Brazil there was an article on this in Ha-Pardes.[20] Although the article is signed by someone else, R. Weinberg believed that the biographical information in it was provided by R. Fink. In describing R. Fink’s background it states:

תלמיד מובהק של הרב הגאון ה‘ אברהם שטיינברג מברודי, שאצלו למד בשעה שישב בעיר הבירה וינה, בשנות המלחמה הראשונה ואז שמש גם את הגאון העצום ר‘ יוסף אנגל וגדולי ישראל אחרים. משומעי שעוריו של הרב יחיאל וינברג, העילוי מסלובודקה בסמינר הרבנים בברלין

R. Weinberg wrote to R. Joseph Apfel, R. Fink’s classmate at the Berlin Rabbinical Seminary, with his annoyance at the above formulation. He assumed that R. Fink, having moved into more haredi circles, was embarrassed to acknowledge that he had been an actual registered student at the Berlin Rabbinical Seminary, and therefore wrote that he just attended R. Weinberg’s shiurim at the Seminary.[21] In an earlier post on the Seforim Blog here, Menachem Butler notes that when R. Yosef Zvi Dunner passed away, the obituary in Ha-Modia wrote:

At 19 he wanted to study in the yeshivos of Lithuania, but his father felt that due to the shortage of Rabbanim in Germany, it would be better for him to remain in the country and study in the beis medrash of Harav Yechiel Yaakov Weinberg, zt”l, author of Seridei Eish. For four years, the young Rav Yosef Tzvi studied in this beis medrash, where he was awarded semichah at a young age after astounding those testing him with his penetrating understanding of all four sections of the Shulchan Aruch. He was granted the title yoreh, yadin.

Instead of writing that R. Dunner studied at the Berlin Rabbinical Seminary, Ha-Modia invented a new institution, the beis medrash of R. Weinberg.

This is a phenomenon we have sometimes seen with people who studied at Yeshiva University and/or RIETS but in later years did not want to acknowledge this. At most they would say that they heard shiurim from the Rav, without noting that they were actually registered students in YU or RIETS.

Returning to the pictures, here is a one of R. Weinberg’s father.

Here is his mother.

Here is R. Weinberg’s mother and other members of his family at his father’s grave in Ciechanowiec, Poland.

6. In the latest Hakirah (vol. 35, Summer 2024), R. Shmuel Lesher mentions Chaim Bloch’s Passover Haggadah forgery. Bloch claimed to have had a 1521 manuscript where instead of “Pour out your wrath on the nations that do not know you”, the mansucript had, “Pour out your love on the nations that know you”. This is such an obvious forgery, from a person whose forgeries have become legendary (see my post here, R. Jonathan Sacks included this forged text in his own Haggadah.

On p. 286 n. 12 Lesher states that assuming Bloch’s Haggadah passage is a forgery, the motivation for the forgery remains unclear. Let me first state that there is no reason for “assuming” it is a forgery, as there is no doubt whatsoever. As for the motivation, this too is clear. Bloch was very interested in apologetics and softening anti-Gentile passages that appear in the Talmud and later rabbinic literature. He even devoted an entire (very dishonest) book to this topic, Ve-Da Mah She-Tashiv (New York, 1962). In my post here I include a page from Bloch’s Heikhal le-Divrei Hazal u-Fitgameihem (New York, 1948), p. 9. Here Bloch invents an entire story about how before the war there was a collection of letters in Vienna dealing with the sections of the Talmud that were removed by non-Jewish censors. He tells us that R. Elazar Horowitz wrote a letter to R. Judah Aszod stating that R. Moses Sofer did not wish to print a Talmud with the censored sections. The reason R. Sofer supposedly gave was that it was divine providence that these passages were removed, and once they have been removed they should not be put back. Based on additional imaginary letters, Bloch tells us more fairy tales about other nineteenth-century rabbinic leaders who agreed that the censored passages should remain out, because of the antisemitism that could be generated by them.

Bloch’s forgery of the Gentile-friendly “Pour out your love” passage is no different than his other forgeries dealing with rabbinic texts that present a negative view of non-Jews and that were often cited in non-Jewish attacks on the Talmud and rabbinic literature.

* * * * * *

[1] See Menachem Keren-Kratz, “Satmar and Neturei Karta: Jews Against Zionism,” Modern Judaism 43 (Feb., 2023), pp. 66ff.
[2] Mesorat Moshe, vol. 2, p. 432.
[3] It could be that my language, implying that their current behavior is worse than a hillul ha-shem, is inappropriate, as in some respects hillul ha-shem is the worst imaginable sin. See Yoma 86a that unlike other sins, only death can atone for hillul ha-shem. The Hazon Ish pointed out that the three great sins for which one must martyr oneself rather than violate could indeed be pushed aside (i.e., violated) in order to prevent a hillul ha-shem. (Obviously, this type of decision is only something that the greatest rabbinic leaders could rule on.) See Shlomo Cohen, Pe’er ha-Dor, vol. 3, p. 185.

R. Samuel Mohilever writes:

חלול ה‘ היותר גדול המאריך גלותנו והמעכב גאולתנו ופדות נפשנו הוא אשר על ידי רוע מעשינו יחולל כבוד אומתנו בגוים לאמר: ראו מעשה העם הזה, אשר לפי דעתו הוא הנבחר מכל גויי הארצות להיות לעם סגולה עליון על כל, ומעשיו גרועים ואבדה חכמת חכמיו ודעתו שפלה וגם באמונתו ערב אמונות שוא וטפל ועוד הגדיל כי עשה את הטפל לעיקר

Mohilever, Berit ha-Ahavah ve-ha-Shalom, ed. Munitz (Jerusalem, 2023), p. 210.

Here is one way hillul ha-shem was dealt with in years past: R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai, Ma’agal Tov ha-Shalem, ed. Freimann (Jerusalem, 1934) p. 88, mentions how the leaders of the Jewish community in Modena, Italy cut off the beard of a rabbi who created a hillul ha-shem. See the explanation of the passage in R. Meir Mazuz, Mi-Gedolei Yisrael, vol 1, p. 218. As R. Mazuz notes, punishing someone by cutting off his hair is mentioned in Beit Yosef, Even ha-Ezer 16, s.v. כתוב and Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 16:4. I do not know if this only means hair of the head or if it also includes the beard. Aaron Chorin, who would later become a leading advocate of religious reform, was also threatened with having his beard cut off. See R. Nosson Dovid Rabinowich, Safra ve-Sayfa (Jerusalem, 2013), pp. 139 n. 37, 171.

Hillul ha-shem is sometimes written as hillul ha-Shem or hillul Hashem. Yet this is a mistake. It is not Hashem (with a capital “H”, implying “God, or ha-Shem), but hashem, (or ha-shem). That is, it is not a desecration of God but of His name. Thus, one should not write ‘חילול ה but rather חילול השם. See Lev. 22:32: ולא תחללו את שם קדשי. Nissim Dana titled his 1989 translation of one of R. Abraham Maimonides’ works ספר המספיק לעובדי השם. Yet the last two words should be ‘לעובדי ה.

Regarding the use of “Hashem”, I found something very confusing in the ArtScroll Stone Chumash. In place of the Tetragrammaton, ArtScroll does not use the word “Lord” but “HASHEM”, as this is how people pronounce the Tetragrammaton. While ArtScroll is the first translation to adopt this approach, it does have a certain logic. However, this logic breaks down a few times on p. 319 when the ArtScroll commentary attempts to explain what occurs at the beginning of parashat Va-Era. For example, “Or Ha-Chaim comments that God’s essence is represented by the name HASHEM.” This makes no sense, as there is no name HASHEM. The commentary should have written that “God’s essence is represented by the four letter name of God.”

Here is what Maimonides says about one who separates himself from the community, and it certainly applies to Neturei Karta (Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Teshuvah 3:11):

A person who separates himself from the community even though he has not transgressed any sins, but has separated himself from the congregation of Israel and does not fulfill mitzvot together with them, does not take part in their hardships or join in their [communal] fasts, but rather goes on his own individual path as if he is from another nation and not one of them [the Jewish people], does not have a portion in the world to come

[4] The version that appears in Midrash Tannaim, Devarim, ed. Hoffmann, p. 7, has the name as ארווס. However, as R. David Zvi Hoffmann points out, this is an error for אריוס. See ibid., pp. 250, 253. The version that appears in the medieval Bereshit Rabbati of R. Moses ha-Darshan, ed. Albeck, p. 201, has the name אריסטו. I think it is obvious that not recognizing the name Arius, someone changed it to Aristotle, without realizing that Aristotle (fourth century BCE) lived hundreds of years before R. Yose (second century CE). See also here.

Regarding Aristotle, while some traditional Jewish sources speak highly of his learning, others refer to him in all sorts of negative ways. R. Joseph Solomon Delmedigo, in his praise of R. Elijah Mizrahi, actually compares his intellect to that of Aristotle. I do not know of any other such passage in rabbinic literature in which a rabbi is praised by comparing him to Aristotle. See Delmedigo, Novelot ha-Hokhmah, p. 32b:

ששכל הרא“ם רם ונשא . . . כשכל ארסטו‘ט בדקות ועומק ויושר

See also R. Meir Mazuz’s comment on this passage, Mi-Gedolei Yisrael, vol. 1, p. 359 n. 27.

[5]  See here and here (the first of three parts).
[6] “The Historical Significance of the Dialogues between Jewish Sages and Roman Dignitaries,” Scripta Hierosolymitana 22 (1971), p. 149.
[7] The word is pronounced kil’ayim and not kilayim, as there is a sheva under the ל. People sometimes mispronounce it as kilaim, as if there is a patah under the ל and a hirik under the א of כלאים. This reminds me of another common mistake. If you google you will find that many refer to the concept of “shomer pesaim (petaim).” Yet this is a mistake. The verse in Psalms 116:6 reads: שֹׁמֵר פְּתָאיִם. The second word is pronounced pesayim (petayim), as the א is silent. Another example where the א is silent and many people make a mistake is with the name דניאל. Even people who have this name often pronounce it in Hebrew as Doniel (or Doniellah for women). Yet the name is properly pronounced Doniyel: דָּנִיֵּאל. This is unlike the name אֲרִיאֵל where the tzere is under the א and the word is pronounced Ariel. Another common mistake is that people often refer to sidelocks at peyot, but it should be pe’ot, as there is no yud in the word.
[8] In 1876 R. Abraham Bick published Yesod Ohel Moed. I cannot tell you where the book appeared, as there are two title pages, one for Pressburg and one for Lemberg.

The language on the title page is very unusual in its detail of what the book contains. On p. 53b he rejects R. Lifshitz’s identification of the orangutan with a creature mentioned in the Jerusalem Talmud, stating that he has seen an orangutan at the Hamburg zoo and it does not match the talmudic description. He then makes the following statement, affirming the truth of the Sages’ scientific statements even if modern man has trouble accepting them:

וקבלת חז“ל נאמנה מאוד ולא ראינו אינה ראי‘ ונודע שחוקרי הארץ לא יכלו לתור תיכונית אפריקא וגם במציאות בני אדם באמעריקא נוכח כפות רגלינו הכחישו כולם עד שנודע שידיעתם הבל וגם פה חז“ל ידעו הכל בסוד ה‘ ליראיו

[9] Ha-Mitzpeh, Oct. 25, 1912, pp. 4-5, Nov. 1, 1912, pp. 4-5, Nov. 15, 1912, p. 5, Nov. 22, 1912, p. 5.
[10] See R. Mordechai Menahem Honig’s learned note in Yerushatenu 1 (2007), p. 213 n. 43, which provides all the relevant information about the Piskei Tosafot passage and how this idea is also cited from the ירושלמי. See also Saul Lieberman, Ha-Yerushalmi ki-Feshuto, Introduction, pp. 26-27; Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisrael, vol. 8, pp. 97-98, n. 6.

Regarding laxity with mezuzot and the notion that a city with pigs is exempt, see R. Aaron ha-Kohen of Lunel, Orhot Hayyim, ed. Schlesinger (Berlin, 1902), vol. 2, p. 195:

השתא שאין העולם נזהרין משום האי טעמא דסמכינן אהא דאמרינן עיר שיש בה חזירים פטורה מן המזוזה. וכתב הר“י מקורבל שאין זה נמצא בשום מקום לא בתלמוד ולא בירושלמי

[11] R. Eliezer Waldenberg, Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 5, no. 18, suggests another emendation: שער instead of עיר. See also R. Ovadiah Yosef, Yabia Omer, vol. 3, Yoreh Deah, no. 16.
[12]  I treasure the conversations I had with Dr. Juda when I visited Toronto and he honored me by attending various talks I delivered. In one conversation he told me of the high esteem R. Hirschprung had for Rav Kook, and how R. Hirschprung noted that while R. Joseph Hayyim Sonnenfeld was certainly a great talmid chacham, in no way is he to be regarded as on the same level as R. Kook. Regarding R. Hirschprung, let me also record what I heard from R. Shlomo Goren in 1985, when he spoke at Beit Midrash le-Torah (BMT) in Jerusalem, that R. Hirschprung was the only one alive who knew the entire Talmud by heart.
[13] Tikunei Nushaot bi-Yerushalmi, last page of the book (unnumbered; called to my attention by Moshe Dembitzer).
[14] Moshe Dembitzer informed me that R. Moses Shimon Sivitz, Ha-Mashbiah, vol. 3, p. 53b, also suggests this emendation. R. Baruch Epstein, Barukh She-Amar, p. 75, likewise suggests this.
[15] See here. There was another famous Soloveitchik, Max Soloveitchik from Kovno, who wrote perhaps the earliest Hebrew book on biblical criticism and was a government minister in Lithuania. See here. I don’t know which Soloveitchik family he was from.
[16] See here.
[17] The pictures in this post are found in Ganzach Kiddush ha-Shem in Bnei Brak. I thank R. Abraham Abba Weingort for his help with identifying some of the people in the pictures from Montreux.
[18] Fink, Tiferet Yaakov, pp. 49, 56 (first pagination).
[19] See for instance R. Weinberg’s letter in Fink, Tiferet Yaakov, p. 348.
[20] November 1952, pp. 28-29.
[21] See R. Weinberg’s letter in Ha-Ma’yan 32 (Tamuz 5752), pp. 16-17. For a picture of R. Fink’s Berlin Rabbinical Seminary semikhah, see Fink, Tiferet Yaakov, p. 339. The semikhah is signed by R. Weinberg, R. Samuel Gruenberg, and R. Alexander (Shimon Zvi) Altmann.

Elul Sale Announcement: Twelve Seforim recommendations

By Eliezer Brodt

In this post I would like to highlight and briefly describe a select list of seforim, some of which are brand new and others are a few years old. Several seforim are mentioned here due to relation to this time of year [i.e. Elul and Tishrei related] and for various reasons did not receive proper notice.

The first title I would like to mention is:

שערי תפילה ומועד, אסופת מאמרים, תשפ”ד, 662 עמודים

I am very happy to announce the recent publication (and Sale) of an important work, titled Sharei Tefilah Umoed, which will be of great interest to readers of the Seforim Blog, by Professor Yaakov Shmuel Spiegel, of Bar-Ilan University’s Talmud department. As I have written in the past:

Professor Spiegel is one of the most prolific writers in the Jewish academic scene, authoring of over 160 articles and 18 books (16 of those are publications for the first time of works which remained in manuscript). Many suspect that he knows the secrets of Hashba’at Hakulmos (automatic writing) (about which see here).

His articles cover an incredibly wide range of subjects related to many areas of Jewish Studies, including history of Rishonim, piyutim authored by Rishonim, bibliography and minhagim, to name but a few. His uniqueness lies not only in the range of topics but also that his work has appeared in all types of publications running the gamut from academic journals such as Kiryat Sefer, Tarbiz, Sidra, Alei Sefer, Assufot, Teudah, Kovetz Al Yad and also in many prominent Chareidi rabbinic journals such Yeshurun, Yerushaseinu, Chitzei Giborim, Moriah, Sinai and Or Yisroel. It is hard to define his area of expertise; he appears to be an expert in every area he writes about!

Worth noting that recently, thanks to the hard work of a dear friend of mine, all of his published articles are available for free download here.

He has edited and printed from manuscript many works of Rishonim and Achronim on Masseches Avos and the Haggadah Shel Pesach. He is of the opinion, contrary to that of some other academics, that there is nothing non-academic about printing critical editions of important manuscript texts. Although there is a known “belief” in the academic world, “publish or perish,” which at times some claim is the cause of weak articles and books, Spiegel’s prolific output does nothing to damper the quality of his works.

Another point unique to Speigel’s writings, besides his familiarity with all the academic sources, is the great familiarity he displays with all the classic sources from Chazal, Geonim, Rishonim and Achronim, to even the most recent discussions in Charedi literature – this bekius (breadth) was apparent well before the advent of search engines of Hebrew books and Otzar Ha-hochmah. Alongside all this is his penetrating analysis and ability to raise interesting points.

This new volume, Sharei Tefilah Umoed, is a collection of 39 chapters. Thirty chapters were published over the years in various Journals while nine chapters are published here for the first time. Many of the chapters in this volume follow this rubric: a manuscript on a specific, published for the first time, including an introduction devoted to the background of both author and subject. Many of these chapters are related to the month of Tishrei and are great starting points on the various upcoming topics. For those looking for new material specifically suited for this time of year, it’s timely availability for sale is a bonus.

Here are the Table of contents:

Number 2:

מאמר על הדרשות ועל האגדות, לרבינו אברהם בן הרמב”ם, מעתיקה השמועה, בירורים בתולדות חכמי התלמוד ועיונים בדרכי העתקת שמועותיהם, מהדיר: ר’ משה מיימון [מהדורה שנייה עם הוספות ותיקונים[, [תשפ”ד]

This is a second edition with corrections and additions R’ Maimon’s critical edition of R’ Avraham Ben HaRambam’s classic essay on Aggadah. The second part is a small work of Rabbi Moshe Maimon called Mateikeh shmuah, historical essays of great interest and includes notes by R’ Shaul Alter) See here for an Interview with R’ Maimon where we discuss this work.

Rabbenu Avraham’s essay is always relevant but is extra relevant at the moment as Daf Yomi has just finished learning the aggadic suggyot involving Rabbah Bar Bar Chana and will be learning more Aggadah shortly. For more on this and Aggadah in general see my recent presentation on All Daf (Here).

Sample pages are available.

Number’s 3- 6:

Some works by Rabbi Yaakov Stahl, related to the season:

Rabbi Stahl’s work is familiar to many of the blog’s readers; for reviews of some of his earlier works see here, here and here, and see a post of his here.

דרשות לימי התשובה מבית מדרשים של חסידי אשכנז, 11 + עד עמודים, מהדיר: ר’ יעקב סטל

This is a small work of Drashot by Chasidei Ashkenaz related to Teshuvah, published from manuscript and annotated by Rabbi Yakov Stahl.

תשובות רבינו אלעזר מוורמייזא ה‘רוקח‘, ]תשע”ד[, 37+ רח עמודים , מהדיר: ר’ יעקב סטל

This is a Shir of the Rokeach on the topic of Teshuvah published from manuscript by Rabbi Yakov Stahl, which focuses on the different requirements to achieve Teshuvah for various sins. Much has been written about this unique Beis Medrash known as Chasedi Ashkenaz, especially their methods of Teshuvah. This volume will help one get a deeper understanding of their Shitah. The volume includes a useful introduction, numerous notes illuminating each passage with an incredible range of sources and concludes with some very interesting appendixes.

One can find some RH material on his academia page here (Some samples are this, this, this and this).

ר‘ יעקב ישראל סטל, נהגו ישראל, עיונים ובירורים בתולדות המנהג וההלכה, חג הסוכות, קכט עמודים + תמונות, ]תש”פ[

This six-chapter work relates to the Yom Tov of Sukkos with particular focus on Daled Minim issues. Here too, Rabbi Yaakov Stahl continues to amaze his readers with his ability to assimilate fascinating material from a wide range of sources. One unique aspect of this work is the over one hundred color illustrations from ancient art graphically illuminating for the reader the author’s proposals.

Sample pages are available.

גנזי חג הסוכות | אסופת גנזים מתורתם של ראשונים בענייני חג הסוכות היוצאים לאור לראשונה מכתבי-יד עם מבואות, ביאורים והערות, עיונים ומפתחות, מהדיר: ר‘ יעקב ישראל סטל, שע עמודים, תשע“ח

A few years back (2018) I mentioned Ginzei Chag HaSukkos. This volume is very similar in style to Kovetz Al Yad; it’s a collection of material by Rishonim, all related to Sukkos, the majority of which is printed here for the first time. Various literary genres are represented in this collection: Halacha, Minhag, Piyut, Philosophy and Kabbalah. Each section includes an introduction detailing its significance and the texts are fully annotated. There is also a twenty-five-page index to the work. Sample pages are available.

Number 7:

ר’ אורי טיגר, קומי אורי: דרך איש \ דרך הקודש [רמב“ם ה‘ איסורי ביאה] \ משפט עשה [בדיני איסור ההליכה לערכאות] \ הטבע הרוחני, [תשפ”ד], מח + קכט, לו, סו עמודים

This is collection of four small seforim by R’ Uri Tieger, published in one volume. R’ Tieger has become famous in recent years for the various videos that he released with him in conversation with R’ Chaim Kanievsky zt”l. R’ Tieger is a prolific author and in the past year has released a few new works, including a massive work on Rambam Hilchos Korbon Pesach. I will highlight just one of the works in this collection: Derech Ish. This work is devoted to putting together in a unique format the views & methods of the Chazon Ish on many topics. In addition, this work has numerous notes by R’ Chaim Kanievsky.

Sample pages are available.

Number 8:

כל כתבי רבינו מנשה בן מוהר“ר יוסף בן פורת מאיליא, מרואי ומקבלי תורת רבינו הגר”א מווילנא, כולל כל פרי רבינו בדפוס ובכתב יד, [תשפ”ד], מהדיר: ר’ דוד קמינצקי, תקעב עמודים

I can’t describe my excitement a few months ago when I received an email from the editor that this volume was published. This is the first time all of R’ Menashe MeIlyah’s material is available in one accessible volume. Sadly, some of his work has not survived. This volume, published by R’ Dovid Kamenetsky, one of the world’s leading experts on the Gra and Gra-related material presents all of R’ Menashe’s works, including material published from manuscript. R’ Dovid has spent much time over the years on this very unique Gaon publishing some of his manuscripts and writing articles about him in the journal Yeshurun. This is an extremely important, deep and unique volume from one of the people from the Gra’s Beis Medrash.

Number 9:

ר’ שמריה שמעריל ברנדריס, עיון תפילה,+24 רמג עמודים, תשפ”א

I became very fond of this work few years back after being introduced to it by two different friends while researching two different projects, the Gra and R’ Efrayim Zalman Margolis. This unknown godol was one of the only talmidim of R’ Efrayim Zalman Margolis. It’s a work on siddur and Halacha, full of many nice points. A few years ago, Machon Aleh Zayis asked me to suggest an obscure work worth republishing; I recommended this work. Their team did a great job of publishing an annotated version and I wrote an introduction attempting to explain and outline its significance. In Yeshurun volume 43 (2021) I revisited this and updated the piece with numerous additions [A PDF is available upon request]. This is a chapter of my work on R’ Efrayim Zalman Margolis, which I hope to publish one day IY”H.

Sample pages are available.

Number 10:

ר’ אריה ליב ליפקין, אור היום, [בירור הלכה בענין בין השמשות וצאת הכוכבים…] עם הערות ולוחות כוכבים לאור, מהדיר: ר’ משה ברוך קופמאן, 27 +רנז עמודים

This important but not well-known work by R’ Aryeh Leib Lipkin, originally published in 1901, is about the complex sugyah of Zemanim. R’ Aryeh Leib was a nephew of R Yisroel Salanter. R’ Dovid Kamenetsky wrote a thorough article about this Gaon in Yeshurun 23 (2010). In addition to his greatness in standard learning, he was also an expert in Astronomy and Kabbalah. This new edition was fully annotated by the noted expert on the subject, R’ Moshe Kaufman, in a beautifully produced volume. Also, see here for an interview of Nachi Weinstein of  Seforim Chatter with the author of the sefer.

Sample pages are available.

Number 11:

רש“י השלם, במדבר חלק א, [פ’ במדבר-קרח], מכון אריאל, תשפ”ד, שצ עמודים

Much energy has been spent over the centuries locating Rashi’s sources and understanding his methods. One very valuable tool for understanding Rashi and his sources is a project that began almost forty years ago and slowly has been publishing volumes (to date they have published Eleven volumes). Recently they released part one of Chumash Bamidbar.

Number 12:

ר’ נריה גוטל, רש“י צריך עיון – לדרכו של רש“י בפירושו לתורה, תשפ”ג, 522 עמודים

One more recent volume related to Rashi is by the prolific R’ Gutel and is extremely useful for those seeking a greater understanding of Rashi on Chumash. R’ Gutel begins the work with a lengthy general introduction about Rashi on Chumash. For each chapter, R’ Gutel chooses one Rashi in the parsha and demonstrates clearly how the various Mefarshim through the ages attempted to deal with the challenges it presents. Through this lens he highlights and carefully analyzes the material, along the way giving one a glimpse into the greatness of Rashi’s work.

Sample pages are available.

Sample pages from each work are available

All Seforim reviewed here can be purchased through me, part of the proceeds helps the efforts of the Seforim Blog.

For more information about purchasing this work, feel free to contact me at Eliezerbrodt@gmail.com

Parchments Burning, Letters Soaring, and Books Lost and Found: S.Y. Agnon’s Library Fire 100 Years Later

Jeffrey Saks

Rabbi Jeffrey Saks, Director of ATID and its WebYeshiva.org program, is Director of Research at Agnon House in Jerusalem and editor of the journal Tradition. Thanks to Prof. Mordecai Schwartz and Andrew Katz of the JTS Library for their assistance, and to Curt Leviant, whose questions prodded this research. 

“All day I see the parchment burning, but its letters are soaring to heaven—and even at night my heart will not rest,” wrote S.Y. Agnon a century ago after the burning of his home in Bad-Homburg, Germany [S.Y. Agnon-S.Z. Schocken (Schocken, 2003), Letter #163]. The chilling image is an allusion to the martyr Rabbi Hanina ben Teradyon, burned by the Romans while wrapped in a Torah scroll (Avodah Zarah 18a), and points to Agnon’s perception of the magnitude of the personal tragedy that had befallen him.

The fire broke out on the night of the 4th of Sivan 5684, between the 4th and 5th of June 1924 (as shown in my recent article in Haaretz, May 31, 2024). Aside from the manuscripts of two nearly-completed books, he lost “four thousand Hebrew volumes, most of which had come down to me from my forebears and some of which I had bought with money set aside for my daily bread,” Shmuel Yosef Agnon reported 42 years later in his famous Nobel Prize banquet speech. The importance of the book as object and writing as pseudo-magical act are central symbols in Agnon’s work. It is therefore not surprising that one of the burning meta-literary questions he raises is how writing, and books as memory agents, can save the past from oblivion. In his A City in Its Fullness (Ir u-Meloah), Agnon recreates his beloved Galician hometown of Buczacz, and the Jewish lives and culture that were lost there are memorialized in its pages. But what of the stories that were forgotten, lost, burned, or misplaced? How do the parchments that are burned obtain metaphysical immortality? These are themes he explored in works such as “The Book That Was Lost,” “Forevermore,” “The Sign,” and the yet untranslated “Lefi ha-Tza’ar ha-Sakhar,” among others.

Agnon’s house in Bad-Homburg, Germany, on June 5, 1924, the morning after the fire (courtesy: Agnon House).

After the fire, Agnon, his wife Esther, and their two small children were left almost destitute, with only the clothes on their backs and a few possessions saved from the blaze. What did survive was the memory of the loss, which left its mark on Agnon’s writing for many years to come.

On the eve of Passover 5728 (April 12, 1968) an essay titled “Old and New” appeared in Haaretz, containing twelve short reminiscences written by Agnon about his childhood in Buczacz. Among other things it relates the adventures of the young bookworm S.Y. Czaczkes, as he was known at birth. For reasons not clear (perhaps due to space limitations in that issue) only a third of what Agnon wrote was published. The remaining chapters sat in his archives, and were publshed posthumously in the journal Molad (October-December 1973), 549-562; the two sections were then later united in his volume of non-fiction, MeAtzmi el Atzmi (Schocken, 1976), 351-378. At one point, Agnon writes about the Yiddish writers and the status of mamaloshen in the town:

Other books were in our humble grandmothers’ possession, such as the laws of salting meat and the laws of women and tkhines [women’s prayers], all written in Yiddish and in Yiddish letters. The book Lev Tov and the Simhat HaNefesh I never saw in our parts; needless to say I never saw the book Menekes Rivkah, which even the greatest of bibliographers have not seen. A defective copy of Menekes Rivkah was among the charred remains of my books after the fire that fell upon my house, and I gave the book to my brother-in-law, Rabbi Alexander Marx z”l, and he gave it to the library of the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York. If the book escaped the fire in my house only to be consumed in the fire that befell the library of the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York I do not know (MeAtzmi el Atzmi, 363-364).

Alexander Marx (1878-1953), brother of Esther (Marx) Agnon, was a graduate of the University of Berlin and the Hildesheimer Rabbinical Seminary in that city. There he was influenced by the great bibliographer Moritz Steinschneider, and was a student (and later son-in-law) of Rabbi David Zvi Hoffmann. In 1903 Marx accepted an invitation to join the faculty of the Jewish Theological Seminary (hereafter, JTS). He served as Professor of Jewish History, and published important books and articles in the field of Jewish bibliography. But his most enduring contribution to the institution was in his capacity as the chief librarian of JTS. When Solomon Schechter offered him the position the collection contained some 5,000 volumes and only 3 manuscripts. Upon his retirement after a half-century, there were over 165,000 volumes and 9,000 manuscripts, including some of the most important and rare ever assembled. When Marx had completed his life’s work, the treasure trove he had amassed was considered among the greatest in the world.

Prof. Alexander Marx (Wikimedia Commons).

On the morning of April 18, 1966, flames broke out in the stately tower of the Seminary library at the corner of Broadway and West 122nd Street. The building was a firetrap. Its narrow staircases, inaccessible entrance, and single stairwell made it difficult for the firefighters to do their work. The library was soon a towering inferno and burned all day until the forces had gained control in the evening. Sadly, many of the books saved from the fire were ruined by water sprayed from the firefighters’ hoses. Jews from all communities of Greater New York came to help dry the wet books by placing layers of paper towels between the pages. The volunteer corps included students from Yeshiva University and other Orthodox yeshivot. In normal times their feet would not have trod the flagship of the Conservative movement, but this was a “time to do the Lord’s work” when Torah was burning.

The fire in the library tower at JTS, April 18, 1966. Magazine of the New York Firefighters Association, vol. 17:2 (www.fire-police-ems.com).

Fortunately, the book Menekes Rivkah, which had been saved from the fire in Germany in 1924, was not among the 7,000 books that ascended to heaven in flames in 1966. The fire did not reach the archive containing the manuscripts or the collection of rare books.

What then is this rare book, Menekes Rivkah, which was twice saved from destruction, on two different continents?

Rivkah, daughter of Rabbi Meir Tiktiner (died in Prague on 25 Nisan 5405 [1605]), was a woman preacher, poet, and writer in Yiddish. To the best of our knowledge, she was the first Jewish woman to write an entire book. Menekes Rivkah was published only after her death, in the original Prague edition (1609) and later in the Krakow edition (1618). The book was probably written in the 1580s or 1590s. Only one copy of each of the original editions is extant today. The Prague edition is in the Friedrich-Alexander University in Erlangen-Nuremberg in Bavaria (a digital scan can be viewed at the library’s website). The only extant copy of the Krakow edition was in the possession of Agnon—although it is unknown where, when, and how he obtained it. A Hebrew analysis and survey of the book was published in the 1990s by the scholar Meir Wunderin his book Ateret Rivkah, with a facsimile of the original (Makhon le-Hantzahat Yahadut Galitziah, 1992), and the book also appeared in an English edition, Meneket Rivkah: A Manual of Wisdom and Piety for Jewish Women, introduction and commentary by Frauke von Rohdon (JPS, 2009).

Grave of Rivkah bat Rav Meir Tiktin; Old Jewish Cemetery, Prague (Wikimedia Commons).

Menekes Rivkah belongs to the genre of moral literature and is addressed to married women, but it is likely to have been read by men as well, especially the unlearned who—along with their wives—were limited to “easier” Yiddish religious books. The sources that Tiktiner cites attest to her familiarity with Midrash, Pirkei Avot, and books of Jewish ethics. Most of Menekes Rivkah focuses on the behavior of the wife toward her husband, on instructions for relations with her parents and with her in-laws, and on the education of her children in piety. The author warns her readers against gossip and slander, and against superstition and witchcraft. In addition, she writes about “the wisdom of the body”: rules of health and diet and also matters concerning the laws of niddah.

The question is: Does this rare book, which was in Agnon’s library, possess some special quality that protected it for centuries and saved it from conflagration not once but twice? The answer seems to be: Yes. In a pleasant visit to the JTS library during a visit to New York (on May 15, 2024) I was privileged to hold it in my own hands. In the JTS Register (Academic Year 1925-26), Marx reported on the arrival of Menekes Rivkah in the Rare Book Collection:

Alexander Marx, JTS Register (Academic Year 1925-26), p. 136. Chief Librarian Alexander Marx’s report for the 1925-26 academic year in which he announces the acquisition of a rare copy of the book Menekes Rivkah, published in 1618, not as stated here.

In the acquisition report pertaining to this important item, Marx did not mention that he had received it from his brother-in-law, S.Y. Agnon, but did note that the book had been received and catalogued in November 1924, a date consistent with the fire in early June of that year, after which Agnon’s family with the remnants of their property had taken refuge in the home of Georg Marx, father of Esther and Alexander, in Koenigsberg. We know that Alexander visited the family in Germany at that time [Esterlein Yakirati (Schocken, 2000), Letters #19 and #21]. But when Agnon wrote in 1968 that “I gave the book to my brother-in-law” he was not being precise. In a letter to Esther dated September 25, 1924, we read:

Say hello to Alexander, shlita. I am very sorry that I did not see him. Tell him that if he does not want the book Menekes Rivkah you can send it here to Mr. Schocken, because he is ready to buy it (Esterlein Yakirati, Letter #21, p. 39).

I presume Marx did not receive the copy of Menekes Rivkah as a gift but bought it from his brother-in-law with the budget at his disposal as librarian of the growing collection in New York. (Had this not been the case, the book would probably be found today on the shelves of the Schocken Institute in Jerusalem.) The omission of Agnon’s name from the New York catalogue also indicates that he did not donate it (as the custom is to list the donors), along with the fact that Marx reported it in the list of “books acquired” rather than in the list of donations.

In a letter to his patron S.Z. Schocken [op. cit., #163] written a few weeks after the disaster, Agnon informed him: “Among the books saved from the fire I found several in Yiddish, and since I do not wish to hoard books that I do not need in particular for my work, I have sent them to you as a gift. Accept them from me willingly, the offering of the poor.” Clearly, Menekes Rivkah was not included in the box of books for disposal, for Agnon knew its worth—its cultural value and its monetary value as a “yasom” or “orphan” (in the argot of book collectors). It seems that Agnon, who lost almost all his possessions in the fire, was forced to sell any remaining item of value. There can be no doubt that he was loath to part with such a rare Jewish volume, and, in a story published two years later, he described how he felt when the flames consumed his worldly possessions:

I was content with a crust of bread. True, I did wear new clothes, but that was because all of my old clothes had burned in the fire. When I came to the synagogue and put on my tefillin, my friends did not look on with disapproval, nor did they bombard me with words. On the contrary, they sympathized with one whose house had burned and who did not have a roof over his head. Pay no mind to his new clothes, his old ones all burned; even his tefillin burned and that’s why he’s wearing new ones. I folded my tallit over my head so as not to hear their comments. When I got to the prayer that tells of God opening His hand and satisfying all living beings, I raised my hands to feel my tefillin. I was reminded of how I used to touch my old tefillin, and I thought to myself that those old ones were like a charm that let me live peacefully, and the new ones were to make sure that no one would envy me. I took a breath and sighed [S.Y. Agnon, “Two Pairs,” in A Book That Was Lost (Toby Press, 2008), 84].

The Menekes Rivkah almost disappeared from the world. Beyond a few isolated mentions over the centuries, it was completely ignored until Professor Chone Shmeruk published the first study of it in 1978. (A historiographical survey of Menekes Rivkah appears in the introduction to the English edition by von Rohdon.) Even in the years since, few have investigated the book and its author, and until now we did not know that the ember twice snatched from the fire had come to us via a long chain through the author and bibliophile S.Y. Agnon.

Menekes Rivkah (Krakow, 1618). Courtesy: Library of Jewish Theological Seminary, SHF 1882:2 RB 5715.

The copy preserved at JTS bears the scars and scorches of its long journey. The book has been restored and rebound (the catalog entry is unclear as to when). When Agnon described it as “a defective copy” he meant that the second chapter (except for the first page) and half of the third chapter were missing (out of the seven chapters of the book). In their place are inserted nine pages of the Mishnah Avot in Yiddish (from a Krakow edition of 1617). The original cover (or at least the cover of the book in 1924) was apparently badly burned. The person who restored the book preserved the page that had been inserted as part of the binding of the original cover. As is well-known, bookbinders would use worn-out pages from other books or manuscripts to glue the endpaper to the cardboard or wooden covers of the binding. Those who recall the film “Footnote” will remember how Professor Grossman (Shkolnik’s rival) discovered a lost version of the Jerusalem Talmud hidden in the binding of a Christian book in the Vatican archives. This time, to our surprise, nestled within the cover of Menekes Rivkah, a Yiddish book, we found a text in Latin, black and charred on the outside and clear and legible on the inside. (The directionality can be discerned from the folding of the page.)

The page hidden within the scorched binding of Menekes Rivkah was taken from a manuscript (date unknown) of the poem “On the Nature of Things” (De Rerum Natura), Book XXII, by the Roman poet Titus Lucretius Carus (99-55 BCE). The long poem, consisting of some 7400 dactylic hexameters, presents a summary of Epicurean philosophy to its readers. In an interesting coincidence, it too was almost lost and forgotten during the Middle Ages, but the admirers of the poem and its author brought it back to the consciousness of Renaissance scholars and it has since influenced great and good (as well as evil) men: Lord Tennyson wrote a poem in its honor and the Marquis de Sade was influenced by it.

Binding paper from Titus Lucretius Carus, “On the Nature of Things” (De Rerum Natura), Book XXII. Left: Outer side; right: inner-facing side. Courtesy: Library of Jewish Theological Seminary, SHF 1882:2 RB 571.

In his 2011 Pulitzer Prize-winning study, The Swerve, Harvard historian of culture and literature Stephen Greenblatt tells the tale of papal emissary and obsessive book hunter Poggio Bracciolini (1380-1459), who located the lone surviving copy of De Rerum Natura in a German monastery. Thanks to his resurfacing of the work’s varied and important ideas, suggests Greenblatt, the fuse of the Renaissance was lit. For this reason Greenblatt’s subtitle is How the World Became Modern.

Lucretius denied, among other things, the position of Heraclitus (c. 500 BCE) that “fire is the source of all that is made.” It is therefore fitting that a page from De Rerum Natura was used to wrap and protect Menekes Rivkah and prove that whether it is the source of all that is made or not, fire at least is not the end of all things. (Although, in all honesty, the particular page found in the JTS archives is discussing the virtues of a good, healthy breakfast.) When Martin Buber informed the philosopher Franz Rosenzweig of the fire in Agnon’s home and of the fate of their joint project on a collection of Hasidic tales (whose letters had soared to heaven), Rosenzweig consoled him:

When I received your letter and read about the misfortune that had struck Agnon, I naturally thought first that something had happened to him or to a member of his family, so that as I read on, I felt a great sense of relief. Certainly books and manuscripts are not simply material goods, but even though they are part of the body, they are still a replaceable limb. Frederick the Great rewrote the History of the Seven Years’ War, which his valet had used for kindling; and Carlyle’s French Revolution was also a second draft—the complete first draft was burned while in the possession of [John Stuart] Mill. No, death alone erases, not fire [The Letters of Martin Buber, edited by Nahum N. Glatzer and Paul Mendes-Flohr (Schocken, 1991), #306].

Today, a century after the burning of Agnon’s library, we can appreciate how the works of three great writers—in Latin, Yiddish, and Hebrew—have not been forgotten and have not been erased despite the oblivion and the flames.

POSTSCRIPT: After this research was prepared and recently published in Hebrew I became aware that Prof. Menahem Schmelzer, at the beginning of his own long tenure as librarian at JTS, had made mention of Agnon’s description of his Menekes Rivkah surviving the 1924 fire and his speculations about its fate in New York. Shmelzer’s report appeared as “The Librarian’s Column” in the bulletin News from the JTS Library 1:2 (Spring 1974). Shmelzer confirms that the JTS copy was the same received from Agnon via Marx, although he makes no mention of whether it was purchased, as I suggest above, or donated. He errs in Rivkah Tiktiner’s date of death, saying it was “the middle of the sixteenth century”; her tombstone, likely unknown a half-century ago when Shmelzer wrote, established the date as 1605. He was also unaware of the existence of the sole Prague edition in Erlangen-Nuremberg, nor had he deciphered the nature of the Latin manuscript page in the binding, but he does draw our attention to an early seventeenth-century discussion of Menekes Rivkah by the Christian Hebraist, Gustav Georg Zeltner. It is appropriate to mention Menahem Schmelzer z”l (1934-2022) in the context of all we’ve written above: He had been two years into his post as chief librarian when the fire erupted in 1966. He spent the next two decades, until retirement, committed to restoring the remnants and rebuilding the collection to its former glory. My thanks to Mr. David Selis for bringing this to my attention and for providing a photo of the brief column by Schmelzer, which can be viewed here.

Rabbi Jeffrey Saks, Director of ATID and its WebYeshiva.org program, is Director of Research at Agnon House in Jerusalem. Thanks to Prof. Mordecai Schwartz and Andrew Katz of the JTS Library for their assistance, and to Curt Leviant, whose questions prodded this research.

Review of Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī) by Rabbi David ben Saʿadya al-Ger

Marc Herman

Marc Herman is an assistant professor in the Department of Humanities and a core member of the Centre for Jewish Studies at York University. His research focuses on Jewish and Islamic intellectual history in the medieval Mediterranean. He is the coeditor of Accounting for the Commandments in Medieval Judaism: Studies in Law, Philosophy, Pietism, and Kabbalah (Brill, 2021) and his monograph, titled After Revelation: The Rabbinic Past in the Islamic World, is under contract with the University of Pennsylvania Press.

The study of medieval halakhah was recently enriched by the long-awaited publication of The Comprehensive Book (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī) by David ben Saʿadya al-Ger,[1] one of the earliest legal compendia that survives from Sefarad. Pieced together from Genizah fragments, other manuscripts, and citations in later medieval works, and comprising much of the original text, this new edition of Kitāb al-Ḥāwī recovers a once-prominent halakhist who fell into obscurity in the centuries after his death. Its publication is a landmark in the study of Jewish al-Andalus and Judeo-Arabic law. Not only does this volume recover a mostly lost, early rishon, it also bears witness to the reception of the last geonim in the Islamic West and it provides a new window into the beginnings of Iberian halakhic culture.

Next to nothing is known with certainty about the life of David ben Saʿadya, author of the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī and other halakhic works. David’s period of activity can be fixed sometime after the death of Hayya Gaon (d. 1038), who David cited with some frequency, and before the death of Isaac Ibn al-Bālīya (d. 1094), who mentioned David as deceased.[2] This might place David in the circle of Samuel ha-Nagid. In fact, the twentieth-century scholar, Mordecai Margaliot (1909-1968), suggested that David was the subject of a laudatory poem in the Dīwān of the Nagid, where a certain “Rabbi David” is praised for his persuasive knowledge and keen abilities.[3] But what about the uncommon appellation אלגר? Some historians have understood that David descended from converts, but others have connected this word to the Arabic muhājir, i.e., migrant. (The latter would imply that David’s father, or an earlier family member, was not native to al-Andalus.) David Sklare noticed that one Genizah fragment vocalizes this word as אלגֵר (al-ger, i.e., the convert), supporting the view that David ben Saʿadya was the descendant of proselytes.[4]

ENA 2859.7v, Courtesy of the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary, The National Library of Israel. “Ktiv” Project, The National Library of Israel.

This reading coincides with the sole appearance of David’s name in the writings of Abraham Ibn Ezra, who called David “Rabbi David the judge, son of the convert (ha-dayyan ben ha-ger), Sefardi, from the city of Granada.”[5] The editor of this new edition, Y. Zvi Stampfer, who is a lecturer and researcher in the Department of Talmud and Halakha at Hebrew University of Jerusalem, accepts this interpretation of אלגֵר, noting that Jews in the medieval Islamic world had few qualms about such ancestry. Stampfer even proposes that David proudly announced his forebearer’s conversion (as did other converts).[6]

David ben Saʿadya composed several works. In addition to the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī, written in a mixture of Judeo-Arabic and Aramaic, they include Judeo-Arabic volumes on the laws of oaths and on the laws of bequests, as well as commentaries on the Talmud and, according to Ibn Ezra, a work on Hebrew grammar. Of these additional writings, only the one on the laws of oaths survives. This work was translated into Hebrew by Isaac ben Reuven of Barcelona and printed, since 1521, in standard editions of tractate Shavuot bearing the title שערי שבועות. Unfortunately for David’s legacy, it has long been incorrectly ascribed to Isaac al-Fāsī.[7]

The ascription of this last work to al-Fāsī is something of an irony, as al-Fāsī was wont to criticize David ben Saʿadya.[8] In a responsum about the distinctions between biblically and rabbinically mandated oaths, al-Fāsī declared that David was wrong and would have been better off following the view of Hayya Gaon.[9] This may have been more than a straightforward halakhic disagreement. If David did travel in the circle of Samuel ha-Nagid, the charge that Hayya was correct would have had particular potency, as the Nagid and his faction sought to downplay—and thereby surpass—geonic expertise and hegemony, and they were especially wary of Hayya. Solomon Ibn Gabirol, whom the Nagid supported, praised his patron with the phrase וְַרב הָאיָי כְּלֺא הָיָה לְפָנָיו—it was as if Hayya was nothing compared to him![10] Al-Fāsī might have been hinting, then, that a whole generation of Andalusi scholars were betraying their shortcomings when they veered too far from the geonim. Stampfer himself suggests that al-Fāsī’s attacks on David may have been part of a larger program to disparage earlier Sefardic tamludists.[11] Indeed, Abraham Ibn Dāʾūd reported that al-Fāsī entered into debates with both Isaac al-Bālīya and Isaac Ibn Ghiyāth, two of the leading figures in eleventh-century Sefarad.[12]

Did al-Fāsī’s criticisms play a role in consigning David and his works to obscurity? It is hard to know. But before the advent of critical scholarship, David’s writings were mostly known only through brief citations by later rishonim, mostly of Sefardic extraction. These include al-Fāsī, Maimonides, and Abraham Maimonides. The last figures to have been familiar with texts by David ben Saʿadya were David ben ʿAmram ha-ʿAdani (fourteenth century), in his Midrash ha-Gadol, and Bezalel Ashkenazi (sixteenth century), who probably knew of David’s writings indirectly, in his Shittah mequbeset.[13] Most of the manuscripts of the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī are no later than the thirteenth century, apparently when this work fell out of circulation. A single manuscript is later, from seventeenth-century Yemen.[14]

David’s Kitāb al-Ḥāwī and other writings were first noticed by Samuel Poznański, B.M. Lewin, and Simḥa Assaf, scholars who pioneered the recovery of geonim and rishonim, especially from Arabic-speaking lands. As a student at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America in the early 1950s, Shraga Abramson submitted a doctoral thesis, written for Saul Lieberman,[15] on David ben Saʿadya,[16] though this project did not see the light of day until now.[17] Stampfer has helpfully included the first five chapters of Abramson’s thesis as an appendix in this volume (pp. 363-399); the remaining six will hopefully be published alongside a new edition of David’s work on the laws of oaths. Sklare was the next scholar to identify major pieces of David’s work, dedicating an important article to David’s identity, corpus, and thought, and Stampfer added many previously unidentified manuscripts to reconstruct a large portion of the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī.

The Kitāb al-Ḥāwī follows a unique arrangement, perhaps unparalleled in the writings of the rishonim.[18] Its structure is worth reviewing. David ben Saʿadya began this book with a sizeable consideration of jurisprudential topics. He followed this with three sections dedicated to practical law: section two treats holidays and the calendar; section three treats the laws of marriage (this is the only section that survives only in a medieval Hebrew translation, not in the Judeo-Arabic original); and section four treats monetary law. The fifth section provides perhaps the longest early medieval analysis of the thirteen hermeneutical middot. And the sixth section presents a series of challenges to Halakhot Gedolot. (Was this part of eleventh-century Sefardic attempts to move away from geonic-era works? Al-Fāsī, in another responsum, defended Halakhot Gedolot from one of David’s attacks.[19]) Stampfer shows that at least some of these sections were originally independent works.[20]

The sections on applied law suggest that, in part, David intended the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī to be a practical manual. Sklare proposed that this work was meant to be a handbook for judges or for second-tier rabbinic leadership who offered rulings in smaller Jewish communities.[21] This might even explain why some of this book was written in Aramaic, a curious feature that is shared by Samuel ha-Nagid’s mostly lost Hilkheta Gavratta.[22] Sklare suggested that some Sefardic readership may have been more comfortable with Aramaic than Judeo-Arabic—a fascinating possibility in light of the usual emphasis on the Arabization of Jewish elites in al-Andalus.[23]

The other parts of Kitāb al-Ḥāwī, however, clearly had other goals in mind. David’s decision to open with a discussion of the sources of the law was undoubtedly stimulated by the attention that this topic received among both Jewish and Muslim writers of his day. David was an innovative theorist regarding the sources of halakhic authority. The geonim, especially Saʿadya, generally portrayed revelation as all-encompassing, and they tended to downplay or even deny that the talmudic-era rabbis created new law. (This is usually, though not always, understood as a defense of the Oral Torah from Qaraite criticisms.[24]) David, on the other hand, expressed no qualms with the rabbinic innovation of norms. He even took many of the Arabic terms that Saadia had associated with the accursed jurisprudence of the Qaraites and applied them to the late antique rabbis.

David’s consideration of the thirteen hermeneutical middot might be thought of in this vein as well. In the tenth century, Saʿadya Gaon rejected the idea that the rabbis had created new law using the middot. He instead insisted that they just matched up received oral traditions with the text of the Torah.[25] David, by contrast, saw the middot as tools for generative and novel interpretations. Thus, when the Torah does not explicate the law, David asserted that the rabbis created it through legal reasoning (using the Arabic term qiyās).

David ben Saʿadya, of course, was only the first of many figures to break with the geonim on the question of how Jewish law developed. Among Andalusi Jews, Maimonides proposed the most powerful alternative to the ideas of Saʿadya Gaon. Even if Maimonides did not know much of the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī directly, there are distinct parallels between the Maimonidean picture of the Oral Torah and David’s. Maimonides, like David, fiercely rejected the Saadianic approach to the rabbis. Both Andalusis instead celebrated rabbinic legal creativity, and both did so by way of similar Arabic concepts.[26]

Stampfer’s edition of the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī is handsomely produced. It begins with a detailed introduction to David ben Saʿadya and presents the text in the Judeo-Arabic original with facing Hebrew translation. Stampfer provides learned notes with detailed references to relevant passages in the writings of the geonim and rishonim. He cites many unpublished geonic texts, suggesting that this is the first of many such books in the works. Anybody interested in medieval Jewish law should await further contributions with much anticipation.

Notes:

[1] Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī) by Rabbi David ben Saʿadya al-Ger, ed. and trans. Y. Zvi Stampfer, incorporating work by David E. Sklare, Nissim Sabato, and Eliezer Reif (Jerusalem: The Ben-Zvi Institute for the Study of Jewish Communities in the East and The Rabbi Moses and Amalia Rosen Foundation, 2024; Hebrew), available here.
[2] For the latter, see Yaakov Miller, “Responsa of Our Rabbi Isaac son of Rabbi Baruch on the Matter of Collecting Debts from Orphaned Estates,” Kovetz Hitzei Giborim, vol. 7 (2014): 18-34, esp. 30 (Hebrew), available here.
[3] Mordecai Margaliot, ed., Hilkhot ha-Nagid (Jerusalem: American Academy for Jewish Research, 1962), 63 (Hebrew); see David Sklare, “R. David Ben Seʿadya al-Ger and His Work al-Ḥāwī,” in Joshua Blau, Haggai Ben-Shammai, Mordecai A. Friedman, and Joel L. Kraemer, eds., Encounters in Medieval Judaeo-Arabic Culture [=Teʿuda, no. 14] (Tel-Aviv: Tel-Aviv University, 1998), 103-123, esp. 115n40 (Hebrew), available here; for the poem, see Dov Yarden, ed., Dīwān Shmuel ha-Nagid: Ben Tehillim (Jerusalem, 1985), 151-53 (Hebrew), available here.
[4] David Sklare, “R. David Ben Seʿadya,” 111-12.
[5] Abraham Ibn ‘Ezra’, Sefer Moznayim, ed. Ángel Sáenz-Badillos (Madrid: Ediciones El Almendro, 2000), 6* (the editio princeps is available here. As Stampfer notes (32n85), some manuscripts of this passage read “Rabbi Judah,” however.
[6] David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 21-24.
[7] David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 27-32.
[8] David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 79-82.
[9] Isaac Rothstein, ed., Shut ha-Rif (New York, 1977), 156-57 (#51); noted in Shraga Abramson, “Two Chapters from a Study on the Book ‘Sha‘are Shevuot’,” Sinai, vol. 104, no. 3-4 (1989): 122 (Hebrew).
[10] Ḥayim Brody and Ḥayim Schirmann, eds., Shelomoh Ibn Gabirol: Shire Ḥol (Jerusalem: Schocken, 1975), 47 (#85) line 53.
[11] David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 82.
[12] Gerson D. Cohen, A Critical Edition with a translation and Notes of ‘The Book of Tradition (Sefer ha-qabbalah) by Abraham Ibn Daud (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1967), 86 (English), 64 (Hebrew).
[13] David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 68-90.
[14] The one seventeenth-century manuscript is described in David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 107.
[15] For Abramson on Lieberman, see his “R. Saul Lieberman’s Method of Investigating Talmudic Literature,” in Researches in Memory of Saul Lieberman (Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1983), 23-33 (Hebrew).
[16] Y. Zvi Stampfer, “Introduction,” in David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 100-101 (Hebrew):

“In the years 1950 or 1951, the student (later Professor) Shraga Abramson, at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America in New York, submitted a doctoral dissertation to Professor Saul Lieberman titled “Rabbi David ben Saadia ben ha-Ger: His Works and Times.” In his research, Abramson examined references to Rabbi David’s works in Talmudic and halakhic literature, along with various Genizah fragments, and discussed the question of Rabbi David’s era, location, and writings.”

[17] Y. Zvi Stampfer, “Introduction,” in David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 9-10 (Hebrew):

“Professor Shraga Abramson z”l laid a broad foundation for research into Rabbi David ben Saadia and his works in his doctoral dissertation on the book Sha‘are Shevuot, its author, its era, and its location. He submitted this research to Rabbi Professor Saul Lieberman in the early 1950s as a doctoral thesis. However, this work was never published, except for two brief articles derived from it. Mrs. Araleh Abramson z”l transferred a typed copy of the dissertation to Professor Haggai Ben-Shammai when he headed the Ben-Zvi Institute and co-directed of the Center for the Study of Judaeo-Arabic Culture and Literature, who then forwarded it to me.

The first part of the dissertation, which deals with the figure of Rabbi David and his writings, is included as an appendix at the end of this edition. The second part, which involves the study of Sha‘are Shevuot, I hope to publish along with an annotated edition of that work. Abramson’s research was not prepared for publication, and the primary challenge in preparing it for publication was identifying the references he alluded to. Since his writing was essentially directed at Lieberman, a scholar of unparalleled expertise, Abramson often sufficed with general references or vague hints to sources in rabbinic literature or scholarly works, mostly published in Hebrew and German. I have endeavored to locate the sources mentioned in his research as far as I could. To remain faithful to Abramson’s original manuscript and his research style, when he referred to editions published up to his time, I indicated, as much as possible, the editions that were in his library. However, in cases where he referred to rabbinic literature sources that have more accessible editions published after his death, I noted the newer editions. I also expanded the abbreviations and corrected typographical errors and incorrect references.”
[18] Another somewhat later, but still pre-Maimonidean, Andalusi work is even more diverse in its contents; see Y. Tzvi Langermann, “The Topic of Rosh Chodesh—Chapter 18 from the Composition ‘Issur ve-Heter’,” Kobez al yad 24 (34) (2016): 161-180, esp. 165-166 (Hebrew).
[19] See Abraham Harkavy, Teshuvot ha-Geonim (Berlin, 1887), 301 (Hebrew), available here.
[20] Y. Zvi Stampfer, “Introduction,” in David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 32-37 (Hebrew).
[21] David Sklare, “R. David Ben Seʿadya,” 119, 123.
[22] See Shraga Abramson, “From the Teaching of R. Samuel ha-Nagid of Spain,” in Yitzhak Rafael, ed., Sinai Centenary Volume [=Sinai, vol. 100] (Jerusalem: Mosad ha-Rav Kook, 1987), 7-73, esp. 13 (Hebrew), available here, and Shraga Abramson, Perush Rabbenu Ḥananel la-Talmud (Jerusalem: Wagshal, 1995), 55-56.
[23] David Sklare, “R. David Ben Seʿadya,” 116-122.
[24] See Marc Herman, “Prophetic Authority in the Legal Thought of Saadia Gaon,” Jewish Quarterly Review, vol. 108, no. 3 (Summer 2018): 271-294, available here.
[25] See most recently Y. Zvi Stampfer, “Saʿadia Gaon’s Interpretation of the Thirteen Hermeneutical Principles according to the Arabic Source Commentary, Tendencies, and Unknown Sources,” Tarbiz, vol. 87, no. 4 (July – September 2020): 655-660 (Hebrew), available here.
[26] See Marc Herman, “Situating Maimonides’s Approach to the Oral Torah in Its Andalusian Context,” Jewish History, vol. 31, no. 1-2 [=Special Issue: New Perspectives on Jewish Legal History] (December 2017): 31-46.

Will the Real Shas Kattan Please Stand Up[1]
Shmuel Lubin

Shmuel Lubin is a doctoral candidate in biology and creator of “The Rishonim” podcast.

There is an old tradition commonly referenced in the yeshiva community that Masekhet Ketubot is the “Shas Kattan” of Talmud Bavli, that is, it contains ideas that connect to just about every other area of Shas (short for “Shisha Sidrei,” all six orders of the Mishnah). The source and importance of this idea is the subject of a nice article by R. Tovia Preschel, found here.[2]

Personally, I have long thought that this doesn’t really seem to be the case. While it is true that Ketubot includes lots of discussions of civil law (which connects it to many topics covered in tractates Bava Metzia, Bava Batra, and Shevu’ot), and one does encounter the laws of Shabbat and Yom Tov in the first 10 pages, it doesn’t contain much from Zera’im, Kodshim or Taharot (or Mo’ed really, after the beginning). It seems to me that if one truly considers “Shas,” that is, all six orders of the Mishnah, there are much better candidates for the title of “Shas Kattan,” such as Pesachim, which contains a good deal of material from Kodshim and Taharot.

Some time ago I realized that this question can be answered empirically, depending on how it is defined. Can one computationally determine which tractate is the real “Shas Kattan”; that is, which tractate of the Talmud Bavli is the best representative for the rest of Shas (all six orders)?

A map demonstrating the connections between each tractate of Shas. “Kol ha-Torah kulah ‘inyan ehad” (Tosefta Sanhedrin 7:6)

Approach 1: Unique Tractate Scoring

One simple approach is to count unique citations. For every tractate in Talmud Bavli, we can simply tally up how many unique tractates (whether it is a citation to the Mishnah, Bavli/Yerushalmi, or Tosefta) are cited within that tractate of Talmud, with the highest possible score of 62. Before you scroll down, here’s a challenge: there is only a single tractate of Talmud Bavli that contains at least one reference to every single tractate in Shas. Can you guess which one it is?

The obvious limitation to this approach is that as long as any tractate is cited at all, there is no difference between a single citation and one hundred citations to that same tractate, which is perhaps unfair (After all, should the “Shas Kattan” determination really hinge upon whether the tractate includes a single citation each to Parah, Yadayim, and Uktzin, instead of a hundred citations to Bava Metzia?). On the other hand, we could count up the total number of citations to other tractates, but this approach also suffers from the opposite problem (namely, that the presence of many citations to a single tractate does not demonstrate a representation for all of Shas).

A slightly more complicated way of scoring citations beyond simple counting methods would be to use a points system, whereby additional citations to the same tractate improves the score incrementally but by decreasing amounts. For example, if the first page of a tractate quotes from Shabbat, Eruvin, and Pesachim, that’s three points, and then the second page quotes Shabbat and Gittin, then it will get one more point for Gittin but only another fraction of a point for the additional Shabbat reference, since Shabbat was already cited on the previous page. My thinking is that scoring in such a matter should decrease geometrically: for the second time that tractate is referenced, add 0.5 points, then for the third time, allot 0.25, etc. (So, for example, if a tractate quotes Berakhot once and Shabbat thrice, it will have a score of 1 + (1 + 0.5 + 0.25) = 2.75). In the end, however, none of these alternative counting methods turned out to change the ranking very much.

Below, I used Sefaria’s list of its library connections to collect the number of times any tractate of Shas was quoted by each tractate of Talmud Bavli. Below is a table of how many unique other tractates are cited by each tractate of the Talmud Bavli. In this case, a ‘citation’ counts whether it is a reference to the Mishnah, Tosefta, Talmud Yerushalmi, or Talmud Bavli to any one of the 63 tractates in Shas. With both the highest “geometric decrease score,” the most citations overall, and the only tractate to cite all 62 tractates of Shas, the clear winner is…. Chullin! In all likelihood, this is simply due to the fact that Chullin is one of the largest tractates of Talmud Bavli.[3]

Tractate	Unique Tractates Referenced	Geometric-Decrease-Score	Total References to Elsewhere in Shas
Chullin	62	116.90	1373
Menachot	58	104.11	1335
Eruvin	58	104.12	1104
Berakhot	56	101.77	881
Gittin	55	99.06	1124
Avodah Zarah	55	93.15	720
Bekhorot	55	95.36	711
Bava Metzia	54	96.76	1184
Pesachim	53	98.13	1192
Niddah	52	91.60	494
Chagigah	51	87.71	322
Shabbat	51	93.73	1351
Bava Kamma	51	91.51	1133
Bava Batra	51	93.48	1225
Kiddushin	50	90.78	1174
Ketubot	48	86.27	1086
Beitzah	47	79.65	537
Sukkah	47	84.70	956
Sotah	45	76.47	468
Megillah	45	77.96	382
Arakhin	45	76.91	408
Sanhedrin	44	83.25	1088
Makkot	44	75.13	400
Nazir	44	78.29	350
Keritot	44	71.54	356
Nedarim	43	75.32	372
Temurah	41	70.45	407
Shevuot	41	72.19	591
Rosh Hashanah	40	68.45	312
Moed Katan	37	63.70	204
Horayot	37	56.53	171
Yoma	36	71.15	712
Yevamot	36	69.95	999
Zevachim	36	70.46	991
Meilah	35	54.75	207
Taanit	33	57.52	235
Tamid	20	26.12	61

 

As an aside, we can use this database to ask of Masekhet Ketubot (or any tractate): does it have the most references to Nashim and Nezikin, compared to any other tractate? If not Shas Kattan, is it at least “Bas Kattan” (for ב סדרים)? The answer to that question is also no; all three “Bava”s beat Ketubot if you sum up citations to both Nashim and Nezikin. Here are some of the heavy-hitters in terms of “Bas Kattan”:

 

Tractate	Citations to Nashim	Citations to Nezikin
Ketubot	689	385
Gittin	627	311
Kiddushin	502	284
Bava Kamma	279	854
Bava Metzia	334	775
Bava Batra	401	706

 

Approach 2: Balance Between “Six Orders” References

There is another possible way of interpreting “shas kattan”-ness, which would refer to how well ‘balanced’ all of the citations are relative to each other in terms of being a fairer representation of the six orders of the Mishnah. A perfectly ‘balanced’ tractate will have 1/6 of its references to tractates in Seder Zera’im, 1/6 of its citations would be to Mo’ed, and so on.[4] If we categorize each citation according to the six orders of the Mishnah, which tractate is closest to this idealized representation of Shas? 

Here too I used the cross-references (“link”) count from Sefaria’s github, and categorized the results based on Seder, which are color-coded differently in the bar graph below (click here for a colorblind friendly version). Although there are ways to put numbers on this dataset to calculate a “balance score,” from the figure below it seems like, once again, Chullin is in the running for the tractate of Talmud Bavli with the most evenly balanced set of references![5] In this case, we cannot simply blame it on the fact that Chullin is one of the longest tractates, since this is normalized to how many citations appear in total. (Numbers in parentheses reflect the fraction of citations to that Seder, if the number fits in the bar).

This dataset might indicate something interesting about Ketubot, which is that once you discount the self-references (that is, citations to other places in Masekhet Ketubot, or to its own Tosefta and Talmud Yerushalmi), Ketubot has more citations to Seder Nezikin than to Nashim. However, Ketubot is not at all unique in having more citations to tractates that are “out of order [seder]” than to its own. Berakhot, Avodah Zarah, Horayot, Arakhin, Keritot and Niddah all have more citations to Mo’ed than to their own order, Pesachim and Yoma both have more citations to Kodshim, and so on. On the other hand, it is worth noting that both Nedarim and Nazir, which might not seem like natural fits for Seder Nashim,[6] do both have more citations to Nashim than any other Seder.  

Approach 3: Diversity of Topics

Another legitimate approach would be to understand the term “shas kattan” as a non-literal reference to “all the topics in the Torah,” and ask the question: which tractate of Talmud Bavli covers the most unique topics? In the past, this question would have been much more difficult to answer simply because there were no tools which identified “topics” as they appear in the Talmud in the same way that people have been identifying talmudic cross-references since R. Nissim Gaon in the 11th century.

But today, we have Sefaria! Included in the Sefaria database and API docs is a way to identify which topics come up in any source which the Sefaria team (and users) culled from few sources to make something rather impressive. Of course, the reality is that the topic ontology is still kind of messy. For one thing, some topics are much broader than others, to the point where smaller topics might even be included in larger ones. (For example “Moses/Moshe” is a topic, but so is “Moshe’s Anger,” and most of the sources belonging to the latter also belong to the former). Additionally, because of how the topics list was built, there is an over-representation of topics belonging to Aggadah and the halakhot that appear in the Shulhan Arukh, as opposed to halakhot dealing with sacrifices and ritual impurity. With all its faults, the topics count still seems like it could be interesting, so I also used Sefaria’s API to count up all the unique topics that show up throughout each tractate of Talmud Bavli.

And the winner of the most unique Sefaria-topics referenced is… Shabbat! This is not so surprising, considering that Shabbat is the largest tractate by word count (Chullin, which won the last two rounds, is third-longest), and its central topic is one that takes up nearly 10% of the Shulhan Arukh, which is responsible for many of these “topic” identifications in Sefaria’s database. Likewise, the second-to-longest tractate by word count (Sanhedrin) takes second place in Sefaria’s topics count. 

 

Tractate	Topics Count	Unique Tractates Referenced
Shabbat	1133	51
Sanhedrin	1038	44
Berakhot	954	56
Pesachim	864	53
Bava Batra	781	51
Sotah	708	45
Bava Metzia	680	54
Ketubot	678	48
Eruvin	662	59
Yevamot	634	36
Kiddushin	630	50
Chullin	623	63
Gittin	616	55
Bava Kamma	611	51
Yoma	592	36
Avodah Zarah	577	55
Nedarim	541	43
Megillah	537	45
Taanit	488	33
Menachot	462	59
Chagigah	394	51
Rosh Hashanah	393	40
Niddah	384	52
Sukkah	351	47
Zevachim	313	36
Bekhorot	310	56
Moed Katan	293	37
Arakhin	289	45
Makkot	272	44
Nazir	251	44
Shevuot	242	41
Beitzah	217	47
Keritot	193	44
Horayot	183	37
Temurah	177	41
Meilah	104	35
Tamid	101	20

As mentioned, this Sefaria-based topic count comes with many caveats as to how much it truly represents the number of topics discussed. Therefore, one more attempt in this vein is worth trying, in order to salvage the idea that Ketubot is “Shas Kattan.” After all, what people truly intend when using this term is probably not that Ketubot has quantitatively the most citations to elsewhere in Shas, or even that it has the most topics as would be defined by aggadic encyclopedias such as Aspaklaria or topics found in Tanakh. What they mean, surely, is that Ketubot is the most central location for the most topics frequently encountered in “real” Gemara learning, the study of halakha and its conceptual foundations.[7] Instead of using Sefaria’s topics, then, I tried to use the citations in the popular book Kovets Yesodot ve-Hakirot by R. Ahikam Keshet, which the author has conveniently made available online through a few websites. The version I used, from the “Wikishiva” website hosted on yeshiva.org.il, had 419 unique entries.[8]

Unfortunately, no edition of Kovets Yesodot ve-Hakirot has a clear way to identify the citation to a particular tractate, and so as a shorthand I simply counted up the number of entries containing the name of a tractate (e.g., ‘ברכות’, ‘שבת’, etc.). This is certainly not perfect,[9] but I believe it serves our purposes well enough. Using this tally, we come to the rather surprising conclusion that the tractate cited by the most entries in Kovets Yesodot ve-Hakirot is, once again, Shabbat! In this case, Ketubot at least does well for itself, ranking in fourth place after Shabbat, Kiddushin, and Bava Batra. 

 

Tractate	Kovetz Topics	Sefaria Topics
Shabbat	201	1133
Kiddushin	177	630
Bava Batra	167	781
Ketubot	163	678
Bava Metzia	152	680
Bava Kamma	119	611
Gittin	117	616
Pesachim	114	864
Yevamot	102	634
Nedarim	92	541
Sanhedrin	91	1038
Chullin	85	623
Berakhot	84	954
Sukkah	67	351
Eruvin	58	662
Avodah Zarah	58	577
Shevuot	49	242
Makkot	48	272
Yoma	48	592
Beitzah	47	217
Nazir	43	251
Bekhorot	40	310
Temurah	39	177
Megillah	34	537
Chagigah	33	394
Sotah	33	708
Niddah	32	384
Zevachim	29	313
Rosh Hashanah	29	393
Meilah	28	104
Taanit	25	488
Menachot	23	462
Keritot	19	193
Arakhin	17	289
Moed Katan	16	293
Horayot	9	183

 

As a final note, I’d like to mention an article I saw a few years ago by Daniel Boyarin about Rabbi Haim Zalman Dimitrovsky. Boyarin records how Rabbi Dimitrovsky helped prepare him for his doctoral exam in talmud: 

…he also wanted me to learn several whole mesechtas or sections of the Talmud. Kesubos was one of the mesechtas that he insisted I learn, because as the proverb goes: “Kesubos holds the shlisslokh,” the keys to the entire Talmud. It is sometimes called “Shas Katan” (“the little Talmud”) because it includes virtually all of the halakhic themes that the Talmud explores. He used to say, “In order to be a Talmid hakham, you have to know three massekhtas really well”—Kesubos was one of them, along with Baba Metzia, but now, after nearly 60 years, I can’t remember the third. He said, “If you know those three massekhtas”—and when he said know, he meant know, which included Rashi, the tosafot, all the rishonim, and selected aharonim—“then you will be a talmid hakham.” I never learned the third massekhet.[10]

When I originally read this, I was intrigued by the thought that there was a mysterious ‘third tractate’ that held the keys to becoming a talmid hakham, alongside Ketubot and Bava Metzia. After thinking about it for a little while, I speculated that the third tractate Boyarin couldn’t recall was Shabbat. Considering Rabbi Dimitrovsky’s own publications of Rashba’s commentary to tractates of Mo’ed, he was certainly not one to underestimate the importance of learning a large tractate from that seder, even if many yeshiva curricula today emphasize Nashim and Nezikin over the rest. Whether or not my guess is correct, it seems as though Shabbat and Hullin, in addition to being among the largest tractates, also have good claims to holding the keys to the rest of Shas.

[1] This article was expanded from a post on the website MiYodea, the Judaism StackExchange: https://judaism.stackexchange.com/q/141647/5083
[2] According to the website, the original article was printed in Ha-Tzofeh 21, Tishrei 5729 (1970).
[3] In theory, this can be corrected for by normalization, but because tractates of Talmud Bavli vary so widely in word count, simply using a tractate’s length as a denominator will provide a skewed picture; I believe that the approach taken in the next section is a better method of normalizing to ‘total citation count’.
[4] In reality, each Seder is a different size, and so an “ideal balance” would cite each Seder proportional to its size. I believe that this is not worth correcting for, because we would also need to correct for the fact that some tractates have two Talmuds, while some tractates only have a Talmud Bavli and others only a Talmud Yerushalmi or neither, and so a true correction would have to account for all the possible citation material of each tractate.
[5] Actually, to be precise, Chullin may come in second place to Bekhorot in terms of most balanced tractate. To calculate a “balance score”, I used a chi-square test to determine the extent to which the citation counts to each Seder deviates from an ideal ⅙ of the total citations. According to this calculation, Chullin is narrowly beaten by Bekhorot. However, because the six orders of the Mishnah are not equally large in ways that are not so easily accounted for (see previous footnote), this balance test (of expecting ⅙ of citations to refer to each Seder) is imprecise.
[6] See the discussion in Talmud Bavli Sotah 2a and Rambam’s observation in his Introduction to the Mishnah that the Torah’s presentation of vows is in the context of marriage.
[7] This statement is reflective of an attitude that is not necessarily shared by this author, but this is not the place to discuss the question of what constitutes the “true” or “primary” learning of Shas.
[8] Although there are many more unique titles, nearly a third of these are merely redirect pages to other entries.
[9] Importantly, it is possible that an entry might reference the concept of “Shabbat” without citing Tractate Shabbat. I mostly assume that citations to either the concept or the tractate of the same name will overlap, with one major exception: my guess is that the word תמיד likely appears in more contexts as a concept and not as a citation to a particular tractate. Since the tractate of Tamid is obviously not in the running for “Shas Kattan,” however, I believe it is safe to ignore.
[10] Walking and Learning on Shabbos with Prof. Haim Zalman Dimitrovsky – Tablet Magazine

Organizing the Mitzvot and the Sefer Ha-Chinukh
Yaakov Taubes

Yaakov Taubes is the rabbi at Mount Sinai Jewish Center in Washington Heights, New York. He also serves as an assistant director at the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary at Yeshiva University, and is a PhD candidate in Medieval Jewish History at the Bernard Revel Graduate School for Jewish Studies. He can be reached at rabbi@mtsinaishul.com.

This article follows from the excellent piece by Eli Genauer about the printing and reorganization of the Sefer ha-Chinukh. To review, Genauer described how the Sefer ha-Chinukh’s original order, reflected in both manuscripts and early printed editions, listed the positive commandments followed by the negative commandments in each parasha, but later editions did away with this division and instead listed the mitzvot in strict order of the Biblical  verses. He noted further that, contrary to what is printed in Chavel’s semi-critical edition of the Sefer ha-Chinukh, the first edition to alter the organization was a Chumash with commentaries printed in Amsterdam in 1767 that included the Chinukh. In the first half of this article, I will explain the Chinukh’s original organization, as well as the reasoning behind and impact of the later editions that changed it. In the second half, I will analyze the earliest published mitzvah lists  that enumerated the mitzvot according to the Torah’s order.

Part I
Reorganizing the Chinukh

At its core, the Chinukh is a Sefer Ha-Mitzvot, an enumeration and explication of 613 mitzvot of the Torah. It primarily follows in the footsteps of the Maimonides’s Sefer Ha-Mitzvot, while also regularly citing Nahmanides when he disagrees with Maimonides. In the anonymous author’s opening missive (to which he adjured later copyists by oath to include), he noted that the work of clarifying the mitzvot and halakhot had already been accomplished by R Isaac Alfasi (Rif), Maimonides, and Nahmanides. Indeed, the Sefer Ha-Chinukh did not innovate in in terms of mitzvah enumeration, i.e. in listing what constitutes the 613 commandments, but rather loyally followed the enumeration of Maimonides, even when he found the opinions of Nahmanides more compelling.[1] Instead, the stated goal was to organize the mitzvot based on the parshiyot of the Torah, so that the youth will be inspired to study them on Sabbaths and festivals and “they will be accustomed to inquire as to how many mitzvot appear in a given parasha.”[2] The division into parshiyot was thus for pedagogical purposes (as the title Sefer ha-Chinukh, or Book of Education, implies), namely, to create a separate unit for a student to study each week.

This didactic concern is also evident from the places where the author informs us that a given parasha does not have any mitzvot. By contrast, when Rashi, for example, has nothing to say on a given verse, he does not comment that there is nothing to say on the verse. But as a work based on the parshiyot, to be studied according to the parshiyot, the Chinukh needed to inform the reader that there are no mitzvot on a given week. In addition to its noteworthy contributions to particularly topics, it was the organization that set the Chinukh aside and contributed to its great popularity.

The gemara in Makkot (23b), which serves as the primary source for the idea that there are 613 mitzvot, also notes that there are 248 positive commandments and 365 negative commandments. Maimonides, the Sefer Mitzvot Gadol of R. Moses of Coucy and most other Sifrei Mitzvot divided the mitzvot this way in their respective works, by first listing one category and then the other. The Chinukh maintained this division, but only within each Parasha, first listing all the positive commandments, followed by the negative commandments, and then starting again in the next Parasha.

This division can be found in the original manuscripts of the Chinukh and in the first published editions from the 16th century. In the 18th century, however, publishers began to print the mitzvot of Chinukh in strict order of the verses of the Torah, erasing the division between positive and negative commandments. In Genauer’s article, he noted an error in Chaim D. Chavel’s scholarly introduction to his edition of the Chinukh, where Chavel writes that the first edition to make this change was the edition printed in Frankfurt an der Oder in 1783.[3] In fact, as Genauer notes, the first published book to reorganize the work was the Chumash Tikkun Soferim, published by Yosef, Yaakov and Avraham Proops in Amsterdam in 1767, which included the Chinukh as well as other commentaries on the Torah. This edition printed the Chinukh on the page alongside the Torah text, adjacent to the Biblical verse that are the source for the commandment, and by extension, recorded the mitzvot according to the strict order of the verses, thereby abandoning the original organization. Virtually all later editions of the Chinukh followed this structure such that, apart from Chavel’s edition, the Chinukh was never again printed using the order in which it was originally written.   

This Proops edition did more than change the order of the mitzvot. The reordering also required a modification of the mitzvah list in the introduction to the Chinukh so that that the numbering there accurately reflected the placement of the mitzvot contained within the work. But, confusingly, many internal cross-references to other mitzvot were left intact. For example, at Lev. 19:9, the Chinukh records the prohibition of not leaving over part of the corner of the field (peah). This is Mitzvah 228 in the original work but appears as 217 in the reorganized (now standard) versions. The Chinukh there references what he wrote previously in “Positive Mitzvah 2” of the Parasha, a somewhat less helpful reference to locate if the mitzvot are not divided between the positive and negative commandments.

More generally, this reordering has pros and cons. Putting the mitzvot in the order of the Torah allows related positive and negative commandments to be listed adjacent to one another, which is useful as they may have many aspects in common, including what the author called their shoresh (perhaps meaning “cause”). For example, in the discussion of the holidays in Parashat Emor, the new arrangement places the positive commandment to refrain from labor on a given holiday adjacent to the related negative commandment against working on that holiday.[4] On the other hand, in a number of instances, the reorganization clearly disrupts the disrupts the flow of the work. For example, In Lev. 22:32, the Torah presents the prohibition of profaning God’s name before the obligation to sanctify it. This is how the Proops edition (and subsequent editions) list them, matching the order of the verses. In the original, however, the commandment to sanctify, a positive commandment, is listed first, and it is there that the root and essence of the mitzvot related to sanctifying and profaning God’s name are explained. In the negative commandment, i.e. the prohibition to profane God’s name, the reader is referred to what the author already wrote regarding the positive commandment, which the new editions place afterward. Similar examples can be found throughout the work and modern editions of the Chinukh, including those published by Feldheim, Machon Yerushalayim and Artscroll, will typically provide the appropriate page number or mitzvah reference in their edition. This is helpful, but the need to do so highlights the disparity the reorganization of the work created.          

When the Chinukh was next printed in Frankfurt an der Oder in 1783-4, also part of a Chumash, all of the mitzvot that come from a given book of the Chumash are printed in the back of the relevant volume, divided by parasha with a separate title page introducing them.[5] As in the earlier Proops edition, the mitzvot are listed in strict order of the verses without a division between the positive and negative ones.

The decision to print the Chinukh in strict verse order was significant, even though it had been done previously. As Genauer notes, the Proops edition editors justified their decision to reorganize the Chinukh by saying that it allowed the reader to follow the weekly Parasha more easily. Placing the verse on the page according to the verses facilitated studying the Chinukh almost like a commentary on those verses. Printing the Chinukh in the back of the Chumash on the other hand, meant that a reorganization was no longer necessary; since the Chinukh was no longer alongside the text of the Chumash, it was no longer technically bound to its order. Despite this, the editors still chose to align the Chinukh with the verses, forgoing the original order, presumably to allow easily reference between the Biblical verses and the Chinukh.

In 1783, this same Frankfurt edition of the Chinukh was published as a standalone volume, without the text of the Chumash at all.[6] Printing it as a separate volume would seem to remove any connection to the order of the text of the Torah, yet this edition still follows the strict verse order. It lacks a publisher’s introduction, but the title page includes the following subtitle:

The Sefer Ha-Chinukh with the 613 Commandments to quench the thirsts of the soul. Presented now, newly organized and built upon the order of the Parshiot as they appear written in the Torah, and to not bring the earlier one before the later one, but only in the spot where they are to be found.

As explained, this was not technically new (as Chavel thought) as it had been already been done in 1767 in the Proops/Tikkun Soferim Chumash.[7] But this edition was the first to alter the order when the form did not require it, meaning, it was the first standalone edition to alter the order.[8] As opposed to the Proops edition, where such a edit was more required to integrate the Chinukh into a Chumash, this edition included the change because it was perceived as a better, more intuitive order. That no explanation for the reorganization was provided may be because the publishers thought it was obvious. Indeed, the reorganization certainly makes mitzvot easier to find than if they were divided between positive and negative commandments within each Parasha. Thus, while the Frankfurt edition was preceded in its choice to reorganize the Chinukh, it set the standard for future editions because it was the first to do so as a standalone edition. 

There is no evidence that the publishers of the Frankfurt edition were working off the earlier Proops edition and even if they were, they may have still seen their edition to be innovative by changing the order in a standalone edition. There is, however, a change in the introduction that both editions exhibit that would seem to indicate some level of borrowing. The Chinukh’s introduction can be divided into three parts: (i) an Iggeret (epistle) about the nature, goals and influences of the work; (ii) a list and accounting of the mitzvot contained therein, listed according to the parshiot, with positive commandments listed before the negative ones (this is followed by an overview of the commandments that are applicable and no longer applicable[9]); and (iii) a  longer essay discussing key ideas in Jewish thought and faith.

The Proops/Tikkun Soferim edition maintains this sequence of the introduction but preceding the second part is a title, “Luach HaMitzvot,” and then the words “The 613 commandments which were said to Moses, peace be upon him, at Sinai, in the order as they are written in the Torah and according to how they were said by the Rabbi, the author of the Chinukh.” As noted above, the printers also altered the order of the Mitzvot to accord with the verses in the Torah. These added words, “as they are written in the Torah and according to how they were said by the Rabbi, the author of the Chinukh” seems to mean that they have presented a reorganized version of the Chinukh’s enumeration.

Following the list, the publishers added a list of seven rabbinic commandments, followed by the words “the total amount of commandments is the amount of KeTeR [the numerical value of 620, that is 613 biblical commandments plus the seven rabbinic ones] and the way to remember it is KeTeR Torah (the crown of Torah).”[10] In the Frankfurt edition, the mitzvah list (section ii) is moved to the end of the introduction, after the longer essay (section iii).[11] Preceding the list are the same title and introductory lines as the Proops edition. The Frankfurt edition’s use of these words would seem to indicate that they borrowed from the earlier one and made still more changes.

In any event, by the time the Chinukh was printed next in 1799, the reorganization of the mitzvot had already become standard. The publishers, who reference the 1783 edition of the Chumash as well as the standalone edition in their introduction, make no mention that they have altered the original order.[12] The reorganization was the new organization for the Chinukh.

Part II
Early Listing of Mitzvot in the Order of the Torah

While the editions described above were the first to reorganize the Chinukh’s list, neither the Tikkun Soferim/Proops edition nor the Frankfurt edition were the first to organize the 613 mitzvot according to the order of the Torah, either as a separate work or alongside the verses in a Chumash. These particular achievements were already earned by publishers in the early sixteenth century.[13] In Venice in 1517, the famed printer Daniel Bomberg published what is commonly known as the first Rabbinic Bible, a complete Tanakh with commentaries, titled Arba’ah Ve-esrim, namely, the Twenty-Four books of the Hebrew Bible. In the back of the third volume (after the books comprising Ketuvim), the text of Maimonides’s 13 principles of faith from his commentary on Mishnah Sanhedrin are followed by a list of the 613 mitzvot divided by Parasha, but in strict order of the verses, i.e., not divided between positive and negative commandments.         

This listing was originally created by Abraham ibn Hassan HaLevi, an otherwise unknown figure who seems to have thrived in the 15th century.[14] It includes the commandments, the relevant source verse, and a cross-reference to the pertinent discussion in Maimonides’s Mishneh Torah. The version included in the 1517 Bible was a version of ibn Hassan’s that was expanded by R. Yehuda ben Sasson, who added further cross-references to the Talmud and Midrashe Halacha (Sifra and Sifrei etc.).[15]

The brief introduction included before the list explains that the mitzvot enumeration will be based on that of Maimonides but will be organized according to the parshiyot and verses, claiming that this structure is an idea that every child understands and will assist with study and understand of the Parasha. The introduction expresses surprise that such a straightforward system of organization had not been before attempted. Interestingly, he makes no mention of the Chinukh, which had already organized the mitzvot according to the parshiyot. He was either unaware of the work (which, although written in the late 13th century, was not published until 1523) or ‘disqualified’ it, since it was not organized according to strict order of the verses.   

Of the various enumerations of the 613 commandments, that of Maimonides was certainly the most famous and influential of them, and it is thus unsurprising that both the Chinukh and Ibn Hassan made use of it for their own respective works. Additionally, Maimonides’s insistence that each mitzvah be connected to a specific verse meant that reorganizing them according to Torah was a more straightforward endeavor.

Still, even utilizing Maimonides’s enumeration presented difficulties. In his Sefer HaMitzvot, Maimonides often cites multiple verses in the context of a given mitzvah, and it is not always clear which verse is the primary one or if one is to be given precedence over the other. The discussion of the relevant law in his Mishneh Torah did not necessary clarify matters.

Although he followed Maimonides’s enumeration, the Chinukh made his own judgment on the most relevant verse for each commandment. In general, the Chinukh places the commandment in conjunction with the verse where it first appears in the Torah. For example, regarding the mitzva forbidding  labor on the Sabbath, a prohibition that appears many times in the Torah, the Chinukh counts in Exod. 20:9, the first time it appears. But there are exceptions. The mitzvah of Tefillin appears in Exod. 13:9 and 13:16, but the Chinukh does not count it until its appearance in Deut. 6:8,.[[16] When it comes to negative commandments, the Chinukh usually utilizes the azhara, the verse containing the warning, rather than the verse that lays out the punishment. For example, the prohibition to curse a judge is counted at Exod. 22:27 (Mishpatim) instead of Lev. 24:16 since the former is the warning while the latter is the punishment. But again, there are some exceptions. The prohibition to eat slaughter sacrifices outside the Temple, for example, is counted at Lev. 17:3-4 (Acharei Mot) despite the azhara being derived from Deut. 12:14.[17] Ultimately, however, the Chinukh is an independent work with full entries for each mitzvah. The author was thus able explain his choice of placement as he does in the some of the above examples, while also citing any other relevant verses. The verse serves as a positional mechanism and one that structures the entire work, but it was not the complete story for any given mitzvah.

A shorthand list, on the other hand, enjoyed no such luxury, as there was not usually room for further explanation; the mitzvot in such a count follow the order of the verses and the author only provides limited, if any, elucidation. The Mitzvah List originally prepared by Ibn Hassan and printed in the 1517 Rabbinic Bible, solved these issues by basing itself on what is known as the Minyan HaKatzar found in the introduction to the Mishneh Torah. Maimonides there included a shorter enumeration of the commandments almost always listing only the commandment and an accompanying verse, assumed to be the one that most explicitly laid out the commandment. The 1517 Rabbinic Bible list used both the language and verses from this list, reorganized according to Parasha and in strict verse order. In the few places where the Minyan HaKatzar adds a few words of clarification, this language is used in the Chumash list as well.[18]

Although the Chinukh is based on Maimonides, there are discrepancies between the verses utilized by the Chinukh and those of the list based on Maimonides’s Minyan HaKatzar. For example, while the Chinukh (Mitzvah 2) and Maimonides in the Sefer HaMitzvot (P 215) cite the verse Gen. 17:7 (in Lech Lecha) as the source for the commandment of circumcision, the Minyan HaKatzar cites Lev. 12:3, where the commandment is repeated. The 1517 Rabbinic Bible Mitzvah List follows suit placing it in Tazria. Likewise, while the Chinukh places prayer (Mitzvah 433) in Eikev (Deut. 10:20), the 1517 Rabbinic Bible list puts it in Mishpatim (Ex. 23:25), again following the Minyan HaKatzar.

There is an additional (albeit more limited) difficulty with relying on Maimonides enumeration. The second of Maimonides’s 14 shorashim, or principles, used to devise his list was that any mitzvah learned from one of the thirteen exegetical principles would not be counted as part of the 613.[19] There were, however, a few exceptions. For example, Maimonides himself noted that there is no explicit verse prohibiting incest between a father and daughter, and that the Talmud derives it from both a kal vachomer (an a fortiori argument), and a gezerah shavah, two of the 13 exegetical principles by which rabbinic law is derived, about which Maimonides specifically states he will not derive commandments from. Maimonides (Neg. 336) counts the prohibition against father-daughter incest despite this, for reasons he explains at length and need not concern us now. Similarly, the Torah does not explicitly forbid an uncircumcised kohen from partaking of Terumah, but the Talmud (Keritot 5a) derives it from a gezerah shavah (referring to it as gufei torah) and Maimonides counts this as well and once again provides a justification. In the Minyan HaKatzar, when it comes to prohibitions against a father revealing the nakedness of his daughter, and an uncircumcised kohein eating terumah, he writes (following the commandments listing) “that it is not explicit in the Torah“ but insists it still Biblical. If one is placing the mitzvot according to their verse, there might be some question as to where to place these two commandments.

  Perhaps unsurprisingly, the Chinukh places the incest prohibition in Acharei Mot in the context of the other forbidden sexual relationships immediately following the prohibition against sexual relationship with a granddaughter, the source of the kal vachomer. The prohibition for an uncircumcised kohein to eat terumah (282) is placed in Emor immediately following the prohibition for a kohein who is a toshav or sachir to eat terumah, as that verse is part of the gezera shava from which the Talmud derives that prohibition. This too makes sense, although one could have placed it near the prohibition against an uncircumcised person from eating the Passover sacrifice, the other part of the gezarah shavah.

After the mitzvah list printed in the 1517 Rabbinic Bible, there appears an epilogue that provides a tally of the weekly Torah parshiot (and notes that Zot HaBracha is excluded because lacks its own Shabbat to be read on), and that 15 of those parshiot lack any mitzvah, leaving 38 that do contain mitzvot. Gematriot (mnemonics) are provided to remember the totals. The epilogue then notes how 611 commandments were said in explicit verses (followed by another gematria), leaving two which lack an explicit verse and were learned out from tradition at Mount Sinai. The two commandments are, not surprisingly, the aforementioned prohibitions on incest and the uncircumcised priest eating terumah. These can be found, the author tells us, in the Parasha of arayot (in Acharei Mot) and in Emor, the same places where the Chinukh puts them. Again, this is unsurprising as it places them adjacent to the verses from which they are derived from, even if not explicitly. Additionally, Maimonides’s Sefer HaMitzvot and the corresponding Minyan HaKatzar, while not organized according to the order of the verses, also lists them adjacent to the commandment from which they are derived from.

Interestingly, the author felt it important to point this out to the reader, even instructing the reader not to go looking for them. The issue of Maimonides’s statement that some commandments lack underlying verses has attracted attention by modern scholars, who generally find more than two such cases.[20 It would seem that the effort to reorganize Maimonides’s enumeration according to the verses highlighted this issue as well, since the editor had to decide where to place it, something he did not need to do for the other commandments. 

This edition seems to be the first time the mitzvot (of any order) were printed strictly in order of the verses, while also including the Parasha breakdown.[21] The list would prove popular and was included in many future editions. It was even translated into Latin in 1597 by  Phillip Ferdinand, a Jewish convert to Christianity![22]

 There is, however, another possible contender for the first published work to list the mitzvot in the order as they appear in the Torah: the Avodat HaLevi of Solomon b. Eliezer HaLevi.[23] This work is a listing of the commandments which provided references to where the a given commandment was discussed in the Talmud, Midrashe Halacha (Sifra, Sifrei and Mekhilta), Mishneh Torah (spelling out the book, halacha and chapter), Sefer Mitzvot Gadol, Sefer Mitzvot Koton (known as Amudei Golah), the location in the Arba’a Turim of R. Jacob b. Asher (including “column “and siman), Sefer Toldos Adam V’Chava of R. Yerucham ben Meshullam (including exact location), the Kol Bo, the Rokeach, Sefer HaAgur of R. Jacob ben Judah Landau, and the Sefer Halakhot of the Rif. As the author informs us, this list too is based on Maimonides, and the verses and order are based on that of the Minyan HaKatzar (although the language is abbreviated in a few places). This is an incredibly impressive collection of sources and is a good example of the increase of indices with the advent of print.[24] While we know this work was published in Constantinople, it is not evident in what year. The National Library of Israel’s Bibliography of the Hebrew Book catalogue lists it at around 1515, but also cites Morris Steinschneider who suggested that it was published after the end of 1516 when the Sefer Toldos Adam V’Chava (which is one of the works referenced) was printed. In his study of Hebrew printing in Constantinople, Avraham Yaari writes that it was printed between 1515 and 1520.[25] Since the Rabbinic Bible was printed in 1517, the correct year between that range would determine which was the first to list the mitzvot in order of the Torah. Both works predate the printing of the first edition of Chinukh, which was not published until 1523.

In 1547, another Chumash was printed in Venice by the Giustiniani publishing house and included targumim, commentaries, as well as a listing of the 613 commandments in the margins next to the appropriate verse, the first time a list structured this way appeared in print. The title page states that the list will include each mitzvah placed by its appropriate verse, according to the enumeration of Maimonides and according to the opinion of Nahmanides in his calculation of the accounting and listing of the commandments. The inclusion of Nahmanides on the title page would seem to be a mistake, as the Chumash’s introduction, penned by Jehiel ben Jekuthiel, who edited this edition, makes no mention of Nahmanides in his explanation of the work, nor is Nahmanides’ counting of the mitzvot incorporated into the body of the work in any apparent way.[26]

The title plage also write that the work includes a cross reference to the appropriate place in the Talmud, Maimonides, R. Moses of Coucy (in his Sefer Mitzvot Gadol) and R. Jacob, the author of the Tur, “as is explained on the next page in the editor’s introduction.” Indeed, the introduction explains this system in greater depth and then proceeds to include an example from the listing regarding the mitzvah of circumcision.[27]  Students of the Talmud will recognize the list of sources as the very same included in the Ein Mishpat and Ner Mitzvah of R. Joshua Boaz b. Shimon Baruch, which essentially footnotes the Talmud and provides cross-references for where the Talmudic ruling is codified in those works. The Ein Mishpat was incorporated onto the page of the Talmud in the 1546-51 edition of the Talmud, printed in Venice by Marco Antonio Giustiniani, the same publisher as the Chumash under discussion, and is thus not surprising that there is overlap between the referenced works.[28] The mitzvot and references themselves are included in the margins adjacent to the relevant source verse, but as there was not always sufficient space for the full listing of the relevant sources, many mitzvot are instead listed at the end of each Parasha. 

It is not immediately evident which enumeration Jehiel used to create this list. It certainly does not match the list from the 1517 Rabbinic Bible. While there is no explicit mention of the Chinukh, there is evidence that he relied upon its enumeration and not that of Maimonides or anyone else. In Maimonides’ Sefer HaMitzvot, the prohibition of Yayin Nesekh, wine used for idol worship, is sourced from Deut. 32:38 (in Haazinu).[29] Nahmanides (in his Hasagot to the Sefer HaMitzvot), however, writes that the source of the prohibition is really from Exod. 34:12 (in Ki Tisa). The Chinukh (Mitzvah 111) follows Nahmanides in this instance and explains that while he usually follows the path of Maimonides, he prefers the verse in Exodus due to the specific negative language used there. He also writes that one of the “great Mitzva enumerators,” probably a reference to the Sefer Mitzvot Gadol (SMaG, Neg. 148), cited this as the source verse as well.[30] The 1547 Chumash maintains this order and indeed lists the prohibition of Yayin Nesekh in Exodus instead of Deuteronomy.[31]

Clearer evidence comes from a more direct divergence from Maimonides’s enumeration in the Chinukh. The Chinukh writes in his introduction that his listing will be based on that of Maimonides, even in situations where he finds Maimonides’s inclusion of a mitzvah difficult. There are cases throughout the work where the Chinukh indicates that he finds the view of Nahmanides more compelling but follows Maimonides nonetheless, as per his introduction.[32] Indeed, the Chinukh’s enumeration is identical to that of Maimonides for 612 of the 613 commandments. The discrepancy is the inclusion of the prohibition to bring a Pesach offering on a private altar (Mitzvah 487), which is not counted by Maimonides, and the omission of the prohibition for a non-kohein to eat kodshim kalim, which is counted by Maimonides (Sefer HaMitzvot, Neg. 102). It is likely that both of these changes reflect an alternate text or version of Maimonides’s Sefer HaMitzvot that the Chinukh was utilizing.[33] In the 1547 Chumash, the enumeration of the commandments is identical to that of the Chinukh, including the addition of the prohibition of bringing the Korban Pesach on private altars (in Re’eh) and the omission of the prohibition for a non-kohein to eat kodshim kalim. While there are other Mitzvah enumerators who include the prohibition regarding the Korban Pesach, that the enumeration of Chumash matches the Chinukh identically including for most of the order would seem to belie the latter’s influence.[34]

One more indication of the Chinukh’s influence comes at the end of the Chumash. Following the last mitzvah (in Vayelech), we find the same text as in 1517 Chumash, which describes the number of parshiot and how many lack mitzvot, and the accompanying gematriot. The lines that follow note that not all mitzvot are relevant nowadays, and that among those that are, some are in the category of Mitzvot that a person may never come to be obligated in. After this, there is an accounting of the total number of mitzvot that are relevant nowadays and not situationally dependent, followed by an enumeration of the six commandments that apply at every moment (mitzvot tamidiot). This paragraph is lifted almost verbatim from the Chinukh, with the additional of mnemonics. This Chumash was especially popular and was reprinted multiple times with some minor alterations of the page format. Thus, while it would be another 200 years before the Chinukh was actually reorganized according to the strict order of the verses as described in the first half of this article, it was already influencing other Chumashim that did indeed place the mitzvot in that order.[35]

Once the Chinukh itself was reprinted and reorganized in the 18th century it would reclaim its crown as the primary order of the mitzvot, a role it plays until this day. While one can find lists of the mitzvot organized according to the strict order of the verses based on Maimonides (often printed in the back the Sefer HaMitzvot), as we indexes that reorganize the listing of other mitzvah enumerators to allow for easy reference to the Biblical verses, it is the reorganized Chinukh’s listing that remains the most widely cited and used.    

[1] See Mitzvah 138 and 153. All references to the mitzvot in the Chinukh are to the Mechon Yerushalayim edition unless otherwise specified.
[2] See the Chinukh’s Iggeret HaMechaber.
[3] This mistake is likewise repeated in the Machon Yerushalayim Edition.
[4] I.e. Mitzvot 297-298 are the positive and negative commandments related to rest on the first day of Pesach; 300-30 are the same for the Last Day of Passover; and so on for each holiday.
[5] The Chinukh’s introductions appears in the first volume. The Mossad HaRav Kook Torat Chaim edition, printed in the 20th century, also follows places the corresponding mitzvot from the Chinukh in the back of each volume. The publisher utilized Chavel’s edition for the text and thus the order follows the original division between positive and negative commandments.
[6] It is not clear to me which, if any, volumes from the Chumash, had already come out since they were published over the course of the years 1783-1784. The separate title page for the Chinukh in the Genesis volume has a different appearance than the title page for the standalone volume but the text on it is identical.
[7] It is possible that the publishers’ language here is what led Chavel to mistakenly think this was the first edition to make the change.
[8] I am not aware of any other edition of the Chinukh printed on the page of the Chumash, although the Milstein Edition Chumash with the Teachings of the Talmud printed by Artscroll includes very brief writeups for each mitzvah as they appear in the Chumash based on the Chinukh.
[9] These comments are heavily based on Maimonides’s own overview, placed at the end of the listing of the positive mitzvot in his Sefer HaMitzvot.
[10] The seven rabbinic commandments are not mentioned In original Chinukh, although later editions would enumerate and explicate them further.
[11] Other editions also moved around the different pieces of the introduction. Even the first edition of the Chinukh, published in 1523 in Venice, placed the overview of the mitzvot after section iii. Some variances can be found in a few of the manuscripts as well. See Chavel’s edition, pp. 18-24, where he notes some of the changes to the introduction in the published editions. Interestingly, in the Artscroll edition, the Mitzvah list is likewise placed at the very end of the introduction. They also place the overview paragraph before the mitzvah list instead of following it where it appears it originally appeared. A footnote points out the change and adds “Since in this edition, the list of mitzvos cover many pages, possibly leading many to overlook Chinukh’s concluding remarks, we have followed the precedent of some printed editions which place these remarks before the list of mitzvos.” While this is technically true, it is misleading, as they fail to mention that moving the entire list to the end of the introduction following the longer essay, which is arguably a much larger change.
[12] They also moved around the parts of the introductions and include the Mitzvah list title and the paragraph describing the mitzvot. See Chavel ibid.
[13] The remainder of this essay will focus on published editions of the mitzvot list only. There are several works medieval works that organize the mitzvot according to the verses of the Torah, including of course the Chinukh, but also lesser-known authors. I explore these further in a forthcoming article.
[14] The list is extant in several manuscripts which dated from this time. To be clear, there are other versions of the list of mitzvot according to Maimonides, organized in order of the verses which exist only in manuscript, but the first published one was based on Hassan’s list.
[15] The Jewish Encyclopedia “Abraham Ibn Hassan Ha-Levi” writes that Yehuda Ben Sasson translated the text from Arabic. This seems to be an error, reading ma’atik for “translator” instead of “copyist.” Ben Sasson does mention he had translated other texts, but he is not referring to the Mitzvah list, which was originally in Hebrew.
[16] Although this may be because the command is more explicit in the later source. To pick a prominent (although admittedly less representative) exception, the prohibition of eating a live animal is not counted in Noach (Gen. 9:4), despite its appearing there, and instead listed in Re’eh at Detu 12:23. See Minchat Chinukh after Mitzvah 1
[17] As before, the azhara is far from explicit which is likely the reason the Chinukh used the earlier source.
[18] For example, in the Minyan HaKatzar (N 236), Maimonides clarifies that we derive from tradition that the prohibition referenced in Deut. 23:20 is on the borrower to pay back with interest. This language appears in the Chumash as well.
[19] See Maimonides’s second shoresh in his Sefer HaMitzvot.
[20] See Marc Herman, “What is the Subject of Principle Two in Maimonides’s Book of the Commandments? Towards a New Understanding of Maimonides’s Approach to Extrascriptural Law,” Association for Jewish Studies Review 44:2 (2020), 345-367.
[21] Modern publishers would later reorganize Maimonides’s list according to the verses as well. See Dienstag Jacob I. Dienstag, “Ein ha-Mizvot: A Bio-bibliography of Scholars and Commentators on Maimonides’ Book of Commandments” (Hebrew), Talpioth, vol. 9, no. 3-4 (September 1970): 676-677, 703, 709-710, 738.
[22] This was not the first Latin version of a Sefer HaMitzvot although it seems to have been the first to organize the mitzvot according to the order of the Torah. See Siegfried Stein, “Phillipus Ferdinandus Polonus“ in Essays in honour of the Very Rev. Dr. J. H. Hertz, chief rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the British Empire, on the occasion of his seventieth birthday, September 25, 1942 (5703) ed. I. Epstein, E. Levine et al. (London, 1944), 397–412.
[23]  The work is sometimes called the Moreh Tzedek. The author mentions that he was only 20 years old when he composed although the wandering has made him feel like he was 70. He also writes that he had intended to write out the halakhot as well but did not complete such a work.
[24] See Bella Hass Weinberg, “The Earliest Hebrew Citation Indexes,” Journal of the American Society for Information Science 48.4 (1997): 318–30.
[25] See Abraham Yaari, Hebrew printing at Constantinople: Its History and Bibliography, (Jerusalem, 1967).pp 82.
[26] Thus, the mitzvot which Nahmanides argues are part of the 613, e.g., the mitzvah to live in the Land of Israel, remembering Miriam etc., are not noted.
[27] The introduction mentions a mafteach, or index at the beginning of each book “according to this way.” It is not clear to me what this refers to, as the edition I examined contained no such mafteach. Perhaps it refers to this extended listing at the end of each parasha. The cover page and introduction also mention an index to be included at the end of the twenty-four books listing all the places with references to the page of the Talmud where a verse is explicated.
[28] See Weinberg, ibid., 320 who suggests that the compiler of the Ein Mishpat may have been inspired by Avodat HaLevi. The genesis of the Ein Mishpat itself and how it ended up on the page of the Talmud is beyond the scope of this article.
[29] This verse appears in the Minyan HaKatzar as well as the Mishneh Torah.
[30] It is also likely that the Chinukh diverged from Maimonides on this issue because he wished to have the final mitzvah in the Torah to be the commandment for each person to write a Sefer Torah, a far more dramatic ending. Had he followed Maimonides, Yayin Nesekh would have been the final commandment instead.
[31] It is of course possible that this Chumash was following Nahmanides in this instance or the Sefer Mitzvot Gadol which, as noted, counts the verse from here. This is unlikely, however, since, as noted above, Nachmanides’ enumeration is not incorporated into the Chumash, nor is the SMaG followed in any other instance.
[32] See, for example, Mitzvot 138 and 151.
[33] R. Daniel HaBavli questioned R. Abraham b. HaRambam as to why his father included a prohibition to bring the Korban Pesach on a private altar if the prohibition was no longer relevant once the Temple had been built and all sacrifices on private altars were permanently banned. R. Avraham responded that his father had counted no such prohibition and that R. Daniel HaBavli’s text was inaccurate. See Chavel’s edition of the Chinukh, 8n5 . The author of the Chinukh presumably had a different version or translation of the Sefer HaMitzvot and that this would accounts for the other discrepancies between the two works.
[34] The only differences between the Chinukh’s placement of the mitzvot and this edition are as follows. (1) Chinukh counts the prohibition to curse a parent in Leviticus 20:9 (Kedoshim, 260) but notes that this is really the source for the punishment, not the prohibition. He notes further that Maimonides counts it at Ex. 21:17 but the same problem is present in that verse, so he will count it here. The 1547 Chumash list the prohibition at Ex. 21:17, which means all the following commandments (until Lev. 20:9) are one mitzvah off from the count of the Chinukh (like the later additions discussed above, which reorganized the Chinukh based on the strict verse order, as opposed to the original). (2) The other discrepancy concerns the mussaf sacrifices. The Chinukh counts the mitzvot to bring a korban musaf on Passover, Rosh HaShanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot and Shemini Atzeret respectively, in Emor (Lev. 23), as they are alluded to there (through the word olah), even though he admits that the full explication of these sacrifices is really in Pinchas (Num. 28). This diverges from Maimonides, who cites the source verses from Pinchas, but the Chinukh explains that he is counting them from their first appearance in the Torah (see Mitzvah 320). This decision forces the Chinukh to divide the commandments relating to the musaf sacrifice with the aforementioned mitzvot counted in Emor, while the Musaf of Shabbat, Rosh Chodesh and Shavuot (which are not mentioned in Emor) are counted in Pinchas. This is somewhat counterintuitive, and perhaps this is why the 1547 Chumash places them all in Pinchas. Following Pinchas, the list and numbering is identical to that of the Chinukh.
[35] In 1590–1591, a different edition of the Chumash was printed by the famed Bragadini publishing house. This edition also included marginal notes which pointed out the placement of each mitzvah near the relevant verse. The title page simply says “…the order of the laws of the TaRYaG mitzvot, each one set in its place” and does not match any of the known lists.