From Kitzingen to London, From Berlin to Boston
Charting the Pathways of an Intriguing Siddur Translation

Yaakov Jaffe

The vast library of Koren English-language Siddurim generally follow the same translation of the prayers, authored by the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, including “The Koren Siddur” (Sacks, 2009),” The Koren Soloveitchik Siddur (2011), “The Magerman Edition” (Goldmintz, 2014), “Zimrat Ha-Aretz Birkon” (2015), ”Birkon Mesorat Harav” (Hellman, 2016), “Rav Kook Siddur” (2017), and others.  Of note is their translation of Psalm 37:25, the penultimate verse of the Grace After Meals: “Once I was young, and now I am old, yet I have never watched a righteous man forsaken or his children begging for bread.”  This translation followed an interesting path from its original formulation to the siddur, and simultaneously addresses Hebrew lexicography, theology, and poetics.  This essay will investigate the impact and origins of this translation, within the context of the original verse, Psalm 37.  

Psalm 37 and the Pursuit of Wisdom 

The 37th Psalm is one of the 8-9 acrostic Psalms (9-10, 25, 34, 37, 119, 111, 112, 119, 145); in this Psalm every letter of the Hebrew alphabet begins one long verse or two average-size verses.  The acrostic Psalms have much in common besides just their format or structure as they share common themes and also common phrases.[1] Many of the acrostic Psalms contain basic principles of Jewish thought, a basic, foundational outlook on Judaism, without some of the deeper theological musings of some of the other, non-acrostic Psalms.[2] They provide basic guidance and encouragement on how to live one’s life, without considering deeply or in any detail the outcomes of living the religious life. 

For that reason, it is common to find broad, overarching promises of good for the righteous in these chapters.  Not intended philosophically but intended educationally, they paint in broad strokes that good things befall the righteous.  Guarding one’s tongue yields life (34:12-15), Hashem saves the righteous and none of their bones are broken (34:18-23, 37:39-40, 145:19-20), the righteous person is wealthy (112:3), the righteous will inherit land (“Yirshu Aretz” 37:9, 11, 22, 29, 34), will merit peace (37:37), will be full at a time of famine (37:19), will lack nothing (34:10-11, which also appears at the end of the Grace After Meals).

Thus, the key verse in question, 37:25, “Once I was young, and now I am old, yet I have never seen/watched a righteous person forsaken or his children seeking for bread” is consistent with the wider tone of this Psalm and this type of Psalm; it speaks in simple absolutes about the benefits of religious experience without attending to the details of theodicy and the real world, practical experiences of the righteous individual.  The words “le-olam,” and “La-ad,” “forever” appear four times in the chapter (37:18, 27, 28, 29).  The chapter paints a picture for the righteous to strive for; it doesn’t describe factual realities experienced by the author and Psalmist.

Talmudic Solutions to the Problem of Psalm 37

The student of literature and poetry would, thus, not be bothered by 37:25 and its implication that no righteous person ever went hungry. The genre and tone of the Psalm indicate that the verse isn’t meant to be understood as literally describing the goings-on of the world.  It is aspirational and hortatory more than it is descriptive.

Still, the simple reading of the verse is troubling to many, especially when read out of its originally literary context. The simple translation appears to state that the Psalmist has never seen righteous never go hungry, something we know to not actually be the case. Numerous answers have been given and can be given to this question; one appears to be given in the Talmud even.  Before turning to Rabbi Sacks’s approach to the verse, we survey these earlier approaches.

Psalm 37:25 finds many parallels with 37:32-33, and it is helpful to look at these two verses side by side, with shared words in bold:

Once I was young, and now I am old, yet I have never seen/watched a righteous person forsaken or his children seeking bread.

The wicked watches for the righteous person and seeks to kill him. Hashem does not forsake him into his hands and will not cause him to be incriminated in his judgment.

The two verses share three words in common, and also convey the same idea in unequivocal terms – the righteous faces nothing bad, and is always protected by G-d.  Though the Talmud never discusses any theological problems with 37:25, it has a lengthy discussion of the parallel problem in 37:32-33, and the same Talmudic solution for the latter verse can also solve the problem with the former.

The Talmud reads (Brachot 7b): 

Rav Hunah said, what is the meaning of the verse [in Habakuk’s theodicy] ‘Why do You look at treacherous ones, are you silent when a wicked person swallows someone more righteous than him’?  Does a wicked person swallow a righteous person?  But does it not say: ‘Hashem does not forsake him into his hands’…?”  Rather, he swallows someone ‘more righteous than him,’ but he does not swallow someone who is fully righteous (Tzadik Gamur).

The Talmud provides a solution to understanding why the blessings to the righteous person of Psalm 37 are not entirely fulfilled today. The Psalm refers to someone fully righteous, with no sins or faults, a rare individual; perhaps everyone to reach this lofty status does, indeed, never lack from bed.  The Talmud uses the same phrase “fully righteous” (Tzadik Gamur) on the previous page to solve the general problem of theodicy; when there is a righteous person who faces difficult times, our interpretation is that this righteous person is not “fully righteous.”[3] This argument can apply to the entire chapter, and surely also to 37:25, the verse which shares so much which 37:32-33.  The word “Tzadik,” righteous, appears nine times in the chapter (37:12, 16, 17, 21, 25, 29, 30, 32, 39), and once the Talmud limits one of the nine to someone fully righteous, it would follow that all nine occurrences, and thus the entire chapter, only speaks of the rare, special, fully righteous Tzadik Gamur.  The word Rasha, which Brachot 7a says can similarly be limited to someone totally wicked also appears frequently in the Psalm (13 times -37:10, 12, 14, 16, 17, 20, 21, 28, 32, 34, 35, 38, 40).[4]

I have never “seen a truly righteous person forsaken,” because this unique, singular, generational figure is never forsaken by G-d, never goes starving and never lacks anything.

Other Solutions to 37:25

The literary solution to 37:25 and the Talmudic solution to 37:25 should suffice to explain the verse fully, and no additional solutions to the problem are necessary.  Still, traditional commentaries have offered many more solutions to the problem, listed below:

• Ibn Ezra and Radak explain that the righteous are never totally forsaken, lacking bread and clothing (based on Bereishit 28:15), even if they sometimes face poverty, lack, or destitution.

• Malbim explains that the speaker has never seen the righteous and his children forsaken, for any setback is temporary, and success always follows for the righteous in the next generation.  This view was also offered by Kli Yakar to Devarim 15:10.[5]
• Rabbi Sampson Raphael Hirsch explains that the righteous are never forsaken by G-d, such that even if they are impoverished, G-d sends agents, sometimes other charitable human beings, to provide for the needs of the righteous. They are not forsaken, because other people performing the Mitzvah of Tzedakah take care of them.

• Maharam Shik to Yevamot (16b) says that the verse means to say that the righteous never feel forsaken.  Even when facing difficulty, even when starving for bread, the righteous always feel Hashem is with them, and are never emotionally, spiritually alone.[6]

• Others take the descriptions of physical want as being mere metaphors of spiritual want.  Perhaps the righteous go starving, but they never lack from the real, true spiritual “bread.”[7]
• Still others offer different translations for “seen”:  I never “mocked” (Riva Bereishit 28:15), or never “understood” (Pnei Shlomoh Brachot 7a)

The Preferred Translation of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks

With many possible interpretations and solutions for the line, each reader can choose the interpretation and translation that resonates best for them, and Rabbi Jonathan Sacks already expressed his preferred translation in 2005, before the publishing of his siddur translation.  In To Heal a fractured World: The Ethics of Responsibility (New York: Schocken Books, 2005), Rabbi Sacks wrote (57):

I cherished an interpretation Mo Feuerstein offered (he had heard it, I think, from Rabbi Joseph Soleveitchik) of one of the most difficult lines in the Bible: ‘I was young and now am old, yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken or their children begging for bread’… The verb ‘seen’ [ra’iti] in this verse, said Feuerstein, is to be understood in the same sense as in the book of Esther: ‘How can I bear to see [ra’iti] disaster fall on my people?’ (Esth. 8:6). ‘To see’ here means ‘to stand still and watch’. The verse should thus be translated, ‘I was young and now am old, but I never merely stood still and watched while the righteous was forsaken or his children begged for bread.’ (pp. 57-58, italics in the original)

This solution is different from all the other ones, because it turns the narrator of the chapter from a passive reporter of events to an active participant in the conversation of moral action and righteousness.  Instead of passively narrating that the righteous never lack food, he makes an active statement about his own righteous action, saying that as a good person, he would never allow the righteous to go hungry.  This answer provides a wonderful interpretation for the verse, albeit one that does not exactly conform with the role of the narrator over the course of the chapter.  Out of context, however, the translation works and create a resounding charge for how we should ask.

There is no reason to doubt that Rabbi Sacks preferred this explanation, or that he heard it from Mo Feurstein, a leader of the Jewish community in Brookline, Mass. when Rabbi Sacks visited in the late 1970s.[8] There is also no reason to doubt that Mr. Feurstein had heard this explanation from one of the leading rabbis of the Brookline community at the time.  However, there is some reason to question whether this view was indeed the translation preferred by Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, the Rav z”l.

Beiurei Ha-Tefillah and the Rabbis of Maimonides School

There are three reasons to doubt whether the Sacks translation should be associated with the Rav z”l.  First, it seeks to solve a theological or Biblical-exegetical problem using Biblical lexicography – which was not the conventional way Rabbi Soloveitchik generally addressed Biblical or theological problems in his other writings.[9]  Second, when considering Turkel’s extensive index of the Rav’s writing, one finds no entry for Psalms 37:25.[10]  Though this index does not include every last one of the Rav’s writings, and surely also doesn’t include his oral addresses and personal conversations, its absence from the list is telling.  Ironically, the idea that the Bible asks us to respond to the experience with poverty through action and not idle speculation is an idea that finds resonance in the Rav’s writings,[11] but the author has not found this particular reading of Psalms 37:25 yet in the Rav’s writings.

The best reason to doubt the attributions can be found in the writings of Rabbi Isaiah Wohlgemuth, another leading Rabbi in Brookline at the time.  A holocaust survivor, Rabbi Wohlgemuth taught at Maimonides for decades, later focusing his attention on a course on the prayers, affectionately titled “Beiuri Ha-Tefillah.”  The course notes were later published as a book, which has since been republished a number of times.[12] and Rabbi Sacks’s preferred translation does, indeed, appear on the 231^st page of that book, without attribution to any earlier scholar by name.  Rabbi Wohlgemuth often quotes the Rav z”l in the volume, his colleague and neighbor for decades.  Why would this explanation be introduced cryptically with the words “I have seen it interpreted the following way” instead of being directly attributed to the Rav?  Given how many times the Rav is mentioned by name in the volume,[13] one imagines Rabbi Wohlgemuth heard this translation for someone else, or better still read it in the name of someone else, and not from the Rav, otherwise it would have been attributed to Rabbi Soloveitchik.

To review the provenance of the translation, we now see that Rabbi Isaiah Wohlgemuth heard or read the translation from a hitherto unidentified commentator, and that he communicated this translation to his students in Maimonides, and to other residents of the Brookline community, including Mo Feurstein or a third party who then shared the translation with Mr. Feurstein.  Mr. Feurstein shared the explanation with Rabbi Sachs, with the slight error that the view was associated with Rabbi Wohlgemuth and his teachers, and not specifically with Rabbi Soloveitchik.  But who originated the translation?  We must look back earlier to the start of the 20th century to discover who first offered this translation.

The Hildesheimer Rabbinical Seminary

Before moving to Boston, Rabbi Isaiah Wohlgemuth’s (1915-2008) first position was in Kitzingen, Germany, a Rabbinical post he began after concluding the Hildesheimer Rabbinical  Seminary in Berlin in 1937, shortly before the school was closed upon the eve of the Holocaust.[14] One of the teachers in the Seminary who died shortly before Rabbi Wohlgemuth attended, was Dr. Abraham Berliner, best known for his critical edition of Rashi’s Bible Commentary and his work behind the Mekitzei Nirdamim publishing society.[15] Berliner also wrote a short work on prayer, later translated into Hebrew and published by Mossad Ha-Rav Kook.

In a short paragraph at the end of a chapter of collected short notes on the siddur, Berliner suggests the same very reading found in the Sacks translation, noting that it goes against the exegetical tradition found in the Book of Psalms, and nevertheless offers the idea as his own, with the proof text from Esther cited above.[16] Berliner is the first and the only translator to offer this interpretation and not to cite it in the name of any other source, and so it is fair to say that he is the original author of this translation.[17] Thus, even if the Rav was part of the chain of the transmission of the insight, it ought not be attributed to him, given that Berliner had already began to circulate the insight when the Rav z”l was only nine years old.

Though Berliner had passed away before Rabbi Wohlgemuth arrived at the seminary, there were less than 20 years in between the two, and so the insight was either passed down orally in Berlin and possibly also accessible through Berliner’s book in the seminary.  Given that Berliner was essentially unknown to his students at Maimonides – in noted contradistinction to the Rav – Rabbi Wohlgemuth intentionally chose not to provide his name when sharing the idea with his students. But he had read the idea in the name of Berliner, not in the name of the Rav.

Chains of Transmission

The Siddur is one of the biggest repositories of the Jewish tradition – recited daily in synagogues and in homes, with a safely guarded set of customs for each Jewish community.  So much of what we say today can be traced back to a specific historical moment of time, and each generation adds a new element or aspect to the siddur.  Users of the Koren siddur now can appreciate the lengthy and somewhat circuitous history of their translation.  Birthed by Dr. Abraham Berliner in Berlin in the early 20th century, a young Rabbi Isaiah Wohlgemuth learned the idea in the late 1930s and brough the insight out of the destruction of the holocaust to Brookline and Boston by way of a small synagogue in Kitzingen.  A major community leader, Moses Feurstein heard the insight in Boston in the 1960s, internalized its message, and then shared it with a young Rabbi Jonathan Sacks upon his visit to Brookline in the late 1970s.  Rabbi Sacks treasured the idea for decades, returning to it in his writings and his siddur translation, back in Europe although now in London, publishing it in the Koren siddur roughly one century after the idea was first formed.  London and Berlin are less than 600 miles apart as the crow flies, but ideas sometimes take a somewhat more complicated route to get from one place to another.  And anyone using said siddur now continues the path of insight, from Europe to your own home, wherever it may be.

Life After Death: The Afterlife of Tombstone Inscriptions in the Old Jewish Cemetery of Vilna

By Shnayer Leiman

The ultimate purpose of any Jewish cemetery is to provide a resting place, with dignity, for the Jewish dead. Jewish law and custom have played a major role in regulating almost every aspect of burial from the moment of death through the funeral itself, the period of mourning that follows the funeral, and – ultimately – the erection of a tombstone over the grave.[1] Once the tombstone is in place, the living return to the cemetery for occasional visits, usually on the anniversary of the death (yahrzeit) of a dear one, or to pray at the grave of a righteous rabbi or ancestor in a moment of need.

And, of course, the living return to the cemetery in order to attend the funerals of others. But the last mentioned occurs only in “living” cemeteries, i.e. cemeteries that still bury the dead. But, at some point, cemeteries run out of space, and/or are forced to close by municipal ordinance. In 1830, after serving Vilna’s Jewish community for well over 250 years, the Jewish cemetery ran out of space and the municipal authorities forced it to close.[2] It was no longer a “living”cemetery and it transitioned into a pilgrimage site, where Jews came to pray at their ancestors’ graves, and at the graves of the great Jewish heroes of the past.

Any such transition comes at a cost. It became necessary to provide for the security of the cemetery, despite the lack of income from regular funerals. Guards had to be hired, fences had to be built and repaired, caretakers had to maintain the cemetery grounds, and guides had to be provided for those searching for specific graves in the cemetery. In this brief essay we will focus on only one interesting phenomenon: the need to identify “celebrity” graves, and to create markers, often on the tombstones themselves, that identified the person buried at the foot of the tombstone as a celebrity, or as a close relative of a celebrity (e.g., אם הגאון רבינו אליהו “The Mother of the Gaon R. Eliyahu [of Vilna],” and אבי הרב הגאונים ר‘ חיים ור“ש זלמן מוואלאזין “The Father of the Rabbis and Gaonim R. Hayyim and R. S[hlomo] Zalman of Volozhin ).[3] Clearly, this need was made necessary – in large part – by the wear and tear on the tombstone inscriptions that made many of them almost impossible to read by the end of the19^th century. But it was also made necessary by the passage of time, when a younger generation no longer recognized the names of the deceased, who often were the parents or spouses of celebrities of the past and present.

Our evidence will come mostly from photographs of tombstones in the Old Jewish Cemetery taken during the first decades of the 20^th century.[4] These will be supplemented by the hand copies of the same tombstones published mostly in the second half of the 19^th century.[5] First, a word of caution.

While photographs don’t lie, they often mislead. Thus, a recent work – and a superb one at that – on the leading 20^th century rabbinic figure in Vilna’s long history of rabbinic scholars, i.e., Rabbi Hayyim Ozer Grodzenski (d. 1940), inadvertently suggests that R. Mordechai Meltzer (1797-1883), a distinguished 19^th century Vilna Talmudist, was buried in the Old Jewish cemetery of Vilna.[6] The suggestion is based upon a poor photograph of a group of graves in the Old Jewish cemetery. The Hebrew legend under the photograph reads “The tombstone of the Gaon Rabbi Mordechai Meltzer in Vilna.” Here is the photograph, as it appears in the volume, p. 180:

With a magnifying glass, one can barely make out above the second tombstone from the right, the title and name: הרב הגאון ר‘ מרדכי מעלצער “The Rabbi and Gaon R. Mordechai Meltzer.” Since the third tombstone from the right is clearly identifiable as marking the grave of R. Abraham Danzig (d. 1820), a distinguished Vilna rabbinic scholar who was certainly buried in the Old Jewish cemetery, there is perhaps some reason to think that R. Mordechai Meltzer was, in fact, buried next to him, in the same cemetery.[7]

Interestingly, the author himself states openly the Rabbi Meltzer left Vilna and ultimately served as Rabbi of Lida (today in Belarus), “where he died in 1883.” Apparently, the author assumes that Rabbi Meltzer died in Lida, but was somehow brought to burial in the Old Jewish cemetery of Vilna.

Alas, it cannot be, for many reasons. Among them:

a) R. Mordechai Meltzer died in 1883. The Old Jewish cemetery was officially closed in 1830. No Jew was buried in the Old Jewish cemetery after 1830. From 1831 until 1941, all Jews who died in Vilna, including its most famous rabbis in that period, were buried in the Zaretcha Jewish cemetery (Vilna’s second Jewish cemetery).

b) R. Mordechai Meltzer, after serving 19 years as Chief Rabbi of Lida, was buried in Lida. A mausoleum was built over his grave, one of the few in the Lida Jewish cemetery, and it became a major pilgrimage site until it was destroyed during the Holocaust and its aftermath.[8]

c) More importantly, here is a clear photograph of the tombstone misidentified in the Grodzenski biography. The photograph will also introduce the first of 6 samples of celebrity markers on tombstones.

Sample1. R. Asher Klatzko (d. 1820).[9]

The second tombstone from the right is that of Rabbi Asher Klatzko (d. 1820), father of Rabbi Mordechai Meltzer. One can still read (in the photo) the original epitaph that mentions Asher and his father’s name, Isaac.[10] [Asher was a great talmudic scholar in his own right, and no one would have marked his grave in 1820 with an epitaph that mentions his 23 year-old son, Mordechai, who held no official position at the time. But in 1860 or so, long after the cemetery was no longer a living cemetery, few remembered who “R. Asher son of R. Isaac” was, but everyone knew who R. Mordechai Meltzer was: the head of Vilna’s Ramajles (ראמיילעס) Yeshiva during the first half of the 19^th century, an official rabbi of Vilna with the title מורה צדק, teacher of Vilna’s most distinguished rabbis, and among the Vilna leaders who officially greeted Moses Montefiore when he visited Vilna in 1846.[11] And so the top of the tombstone frame was marked:

הוא אבי הרב הגאון ר‘ מרדכי מעלצער “He [Asher, the person buried here] is the father of the Rabbi and Gaon, R. Mordechai Meltzer.” The message seems to be clear: This is a celebrity related grave, not to be overlooked. This is our first sample of a phenomenon that characterizes the Old Jewish cemetery in its second phase, i.e. after it was no longer a living cemetery. Aside from repairing broken tombstones and re-inking the faded epitaphs, the cemetery authorities saw a need to introduce markers that provided new information that identified celebrity graves of one kind or another. Nor did the cemetery authorities hesitate to post those markers on the original tombstones themselves, when there was sufficient space to do so.

Sample 2. R. Yehuda Leib Gordon (d. circa 1825).

The third tombstone from the right, whose epitaph (in the center of the tombstone) is no longer legible, and is not recorded elsewhere, was accorded a celebrity inscription which reads: פ“נ חותן הרב הגאון ר‘ מרדכי מעלצער “Here lies buried the father-in-law of the Rabbi and Gaon, R. Mordechai Meltzer.” The father-in-law, R. Yehudah Leib Gordon, was a member of a distinguished Vilna family that produced a long line of communal leaders and rabbis.[12]

Sample 3. R. Yosef b. R. Shmuel Zaskewitz (d. 1829).

In the same photo as at Sample 2 above, the first tombstone at the right has a celebrity marker at its top. The outer rim of its rooftop reads:

י[פ“נ ה]רבני המופלג מו“ה יוסף [בן ה]אב“ד דק“ק זאסקעווץ “Here lies buried the outstanding rabbinic authority, our teacher and rabbi Yosef, son of the Chief Rabbi of Zaskewitz.” Inside the rooftop, a celebrity marker has been added. It reads: אבי הרב הגאון ר‘ שמואל שטראשון “The Father of the Rabbi and Gaon, R. Shmuel Strashun.” By 1860 or so, few knew who R. Yosef b. R. Shmuel Zaskewitz was. But every learned Jew in Vilna knew precisely who R. Shmuel Strashun was,[13] and so R. Yosef was now properly identified as the father of R. Shmuel Strashun.[14]

Sample 4. R. Baruch b. R. Shmuel Zaskewitz (d. 1829).

In the same photo as at Sample 2 above, adjacent to R. Yosef b. Shmuel, rests his brother R. Barukh, who also died in 1829. Not surprisingly, he too was accorded a celebrity marker. It reads: דד הרב הגאון ר‘ שמואל שטראשון “The uncle of the Rabbi and Gaon, R. Shmuel Strashun.” In case you don’t know who R. Baruch was, now you know.[14a]

Sample 5. R. Zvi Hirsch b. R. David ha-Levi (d. 1830).

In the same photo as at Sample 2 above, at the extreme left, is the tombstone of R. Zvi Hirsch of Libau, who served with distinction as the lead cantor of the Great Synagogue of Vilna from 1822 until his death in 1830. The original epitaph is legible in the photograph, and has been recorded.[15] It makes no mention of his son. At a later date, perhaps in the 1860’s or later (see below), few remembered who R. Zvi Hirsch was, but everyone knew who his son was. Indeed his son not only eclipsed his father as a cantor, he eclipsed every cantor who would ever serve as lead cantor of Vilna. The son, the legendary “Vilner Balabesel” (Yiddish for: young and married householder in Vilna), R. Yoel David Strashunsky, succeeded his father upon his death in 1830, only 14 years old at the time. At that young age, there was much communal strife as to whether it was appropriate for him to serve as the lead cantor. It was decided that he would share the post with an older cantor until 1836, when in fact, he became the sole lead cantor. There was more trouble ahead, when in 1842 he left Vilna for Warsaw, where he performed in public concerts of operatic music. Ultimately he suffered from severe depression, and – on and off – either lost his voice, or lost his interest in serving as a cantor. He died in a hospital for the mentally ill in Warsaw in 1850, and was buried in Warsaw. He was 34 years old at the time of his death.[16] And so R. Zvi Hirsch too was accorded posthumous celebrity status. The inscription added to the rooftop portion of his tombstone reads:

פ“נ הש“ץ מק“ק ליפי ופה ק“ק ווילנא אבי ר‘ יואל דוד ש“ץ דפה “Here lies buried the Cantor from the holy community of Libau and [who also served] here in the holy community of Vilna, the father of R. Yoel David, the Cantor [who served] here.”

Some, but hardly all, of the celebrity markers include the date when they were installed by the cemetery authorities. It is of particular interest to establish the date when R. Yoel David’s name was entered on his father’s tombstone, given the controversy that surrounded his name. It just happens to be that in the case of R. Zvi Hirsch of Libau, the celebrity marker included the date of its instillation, at least initially, but it no longer is entirely legible. The text at the bottom of the rooftop inscription reads:

 _ _נתחדש ע“י גבאי דצ“ג בשנת תר “It [the grave site][17] was refurbished by the adjutants of the Zedakah Gedolah Society[18] in the year [5]6_ _.” The last two digits are illegible, leaving us with a range of years between 1840 and 1939. We can quickly close the gap a bit, since the photograph at Sample 2 was taken circa 1913.[19] Interestingly, the neighboring grave site just to the right of that of R.Zvi Hirsch Libau in the photograph at Sample 2, was also refurbished by the Zedakah Gedolah Society, and the date of instillation of its new inscription is included. It is the grave site of a pious woman named Roza, about whom we know almost nothing, other than the fact that she died in 1830 or earlier and was buried in the Old Jewish cemetery of Vilna. The text in the rooftop inscription reads: פ“נ ה[אשה] הצנועה המפורסמת מ[רת] רוזא. נתחדש ע“י גבאי דצ“ג בשנת תרע“ג

“Here lies buried Mrs. Roza, the woman renowned for her modesty. It [the grave site] was refurbished by the adjutants of the Zedakah Gedolah Society in the year 673.”[20] The Hebrew year [5]673 was mostly in 1913. Almost certainly, both these grave sites were refurbished at the same time, in 1913. By that year, Yoel David Strashunsky was a legendary figure not only in Vilna, but indeed throughout the world of Yiddish speaking Jews. We will examine one more interesting celebrity marker that, as an aside, provides linguistic support for our dating of the R. Zvi Hirsch of Libau celebrity marker to circa 1913.

Sample 6. R. Shmuel b. R. Hayyim Shebsils (d. 1818).[21

Little is known about him, other than that he was a distinguished talmudic scholar, pedigreed, wealthy, charitable, and modest. He adopted the surname Landau, and one of his sons, R. Yitzchak Eliyahu Landau (1801-1876), was appointed rabbi and official preacher (מורה צדק ומגיד מישרים) of Vilna in 1868. Landau was a remarkable preacher and a prolific author who left an indelible impression on all who knew him. In 1870, among many other charitable deeds, he personally raised the funds necessary to rebuild the fence that surrounded the entire Old Jewish cemetery, where his father was buried.[22]

When his father died in 1818, there was no reason for the epitaph on his father’s tombstone to make mention of his 17 year old son. But this would change in 1912, if not earlier. As can be seen on the photo, the outer rim of the tombstone’s rooftop reads: פה מצבת הרב ר‘ שמואל בהרב ר‘ חיים שבתילס “Here is the tombstone of the rabbi R. Shmuel, son of the rabbi R. Hayyim Shebsils [sic].” Inside the rooftop, a celebrity marker has been added. It reads:

אבי הרב ר‘ יצחק אליהו לנדא מ“מ דפה “ Father of the rabbi R. Yitzchak Eliyahu Landau, [who served as] official preacher here.” Just under, and to the right, of the inscription on the outer rim, one reads: נתחדש ע“י גבאי דצ“ג בשנת תרע“ב “Refurbished by the adjutants of the Zedakah Gedolah Society in the year 672.” The Hebrew year [5]672 was mostly in 1912. Here too, few, if anyone, really remembered who R. Shmuel b. R. Hayyim Shebsils was, but every learned Jew knew who R. Yitzchak Eliyahu Landau was. Gems from his sermons were repeated orally, and his books were published and republished in Vilna, Warsaw, and elsewhere. A celebrity marker was necessary in order to identify R. Shmuel b. R. Hayyim Shebsils.

It is interesting to note that the celebrity markers that highlight the names of Cantor Yoel David Strashunsky and Official Preacher R. Yitzchak Eliyahu Landau, share a specific – and ambiguous – Hebrew turn of phrase. Cantor Yoel David is called ש“ץ דפה and R. Yitzchak Eliyahu is called מ“מ דפה. The term דפה can be rendered as present tense: “who presently serves as…” or past tense: “who served as…” I have preferred the latter sense in the English translations above, largely because in the case of R. Yitzchak Eliyahu Landau, the date of the refurbishing is clearly given as 1912. R. Yitzchak Eliyahu Landau was surely no longer alive in1912; as indicated above, he died in 1876. But it is possible that the celebrity markers come from an even earlier period, and were entered on the tombstones during the lifetime of Strashunsky (in the 1840’s) and Landau (in the 1870’s). When the ink faded, they were redone in 1912.

What argues against this possibility, however, is the written record. None of the 19^th century publications of the tombstone inscriptions discussed in this essay record (or even seem to be aware of) any of the celebrity markers.

In sum, our purpose has been to introduce a topic – the afterlife of tombstone inscriptions – that needs to be developed and applied to many Jewish cemeteries, sooner rather than later.[23] Our purpose has not been to present an exhaustive treatment of celebrity markers – one category of the afterlife of tombstone inscriptions — in the Old Jewish cemetery of Vilna. That would require much research, and would result in a hefty monograph, both of which are well beyond our means. The few samples we examined, however, surely serve to underscore the fact that the study of the afterlife of tombstone inscriptions remains a scholarly desideratum.

Notes

[1] For a comprehensive bibliography on the Jewish cemetery, see Falk Wiesemann, Sepulcra Judaica: Jewish Cemeteries, Death, Burial and Mourning from the Period of Hellenism to the Present, A Bibliography (Essen: Druckerei Runge, 2005). For an eminently readable summary of contemporary Jewish halakhic practice and custom relating to erecting tombstones and visiting graves, see Chaim Binyamin Goldberg, Mourning and Halachah: The Laws and Customs of the Year of Mourning (New York: Mesorah Publications, 14^th edition, 2012), pp. 382-399.
[2] [] See Israel Klausner, קורות בית–העלמין הישן בוילנה (Wilno: An-ski Jewish Historical and Ethnographical Society of Vilna, 1935), pp. 30-32.
[3] For these markers, see the photographs below:

a) 

b) 

a) Tombstone of R. Yitzhak b. R. Hayyim of Volozhin, and just behind it, the tombstone of Traina, mother of the Gaon of Vilna.
b) Frontal view of Traina’s tombstone (in the center of the photograph, and to the right of R. Yitzhak b. R. Hayyim of Volozhin’s tombstone).

R. Yitzhak b. R. Hayyim died in 1780. At the time, his son R. Hayyim of Volozhin was 31 years old, and had just recently been appointed Rabbi of Volozhin, hardly a large and significant Jewish community in Lithuania at the time. The Yeshiva of Volozhin was not founded until 1802. R. Yitzhak’s son R. Shlomo Zalman was 24 years old when his father died, and relatively unknown. Indeed, R. Yitzhak’ eldest son, R. Simhah, 39 years old at the time, and a practicing rabbi, is not even mentioned by the marker. Clearly, the markers come from a much later period when R. Hayyim and R. Shlomo Zalman were the only names (of R. Yitzhak’s 5 sons) that were known widely by learned Jews, and by visitors to the Old Jewish cemetery of Vilna. For R. Hayyim of Volozhin, see, e.g., Dov Eliach, אבי הישיבות (Jerusalem: Moreshet ha-Yeshivot, revised and expanded edition, 2012); and Shaul Stampfer, Lithuanian Yeshivas of the Nineteenth Century (Oxford: Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2015), pp. 15-47. For his younger brother R. Shlomo Zalman, see, e.g., R. Yehezkel Feivel, תולדות אדם השלם (Jerusalem: Makhon Moreshet ha-Gra, 2012).

For the little that is known about Traina, who died in 1742, see Bezalel Landau, הגאון החסיד מוילנא (Jerusalem: Torah mi-Ziyyon, third edition, 1978), p. 15, note 14; and Dov Eliach, הגאון (Jerusalem: Moreshet ha-Yeshivot, 2002), vol. 1, pp. 66-70. For the epitaph on her tombstone, see Klausner, op. cit., p. 56. The marker was surely added after the lifetime of Gaon of Vilna (d.1797), who would not have tolerated seeing the title “Gaon” next to his name, permanently etched in stone as it were, in the Old Jewish cemetery. In photo b, one can actually see how an earlier marker on the upper portion of the tombstone, “פ“נ אם הגאון רבינו אליהו“, after fading away, was replaced by new marker “פ“נ אם הגר“א” .
[4] Photographs of Vilna’s Old Jewish cemetery abound in a wide variety of publications and periodicals in different languages. These include: Hebrew (e.g., Y. Kremerman, מוילנא ‘ירושלים דליטא‘ עד חיפה [n.p: privately published, 1995]); Yiddish (e.g., Leyzer Ran, אש פון ירושלים ד‘ליטא [New York: Wilner Ferlag, 1959]); Russian (e.g., G. Agranovskii and I. Guzenberg, Litovskii Ierusalim [Vilnius: Lituanus, 1992]); Lithuanian (e.g., K. Binkis and P. Tarulis, Vilnius 1323-1923 [Kaunas-Vilnius: Švyturio Bendroves Leidinys, 1923]); German (e.g., Paul Monty, Wanderstunden in Wilna [Wilna: Verlag der Wilnaer Zeitung, 1916]); and English (e.g., Gerard Silvain and Henri Minczeles, Yiddishland [Corte Madera, CA: Ginko Press, 1999]), and total many more publications than can possibly be listed here. Postcard reproductions of photos were produced and sold before, during, and after World War I, serving as a major source for some of the publications mentioned above. Some of these photos are posted on line in various collections of ephemera. Numerous photos, not yet published, are available in private collections. All the photos in this essay (with the exception of the misidentified photo in the recently published Grodzenski volume) are from original photographs and postcards in my possession. Artists have also depicted a variety of scenes from the Old Jewish cemetery (e.g., Walter Buhe, “Wilnaer Judenfriedhof,” 1916; a copy can be viewed online at the Wikipedia entry for Walter Buhe, sub: Images for Walter Buhe).
[5] The hand copies were published mostly by Samuel Joseph Fuenn, קריה נאמנה, second edition (Vilna: Notes and Schweilik, 1915), henceforth: Fuenn; Hillel Noah Steinschneider, עיר ווילנא (Vilna: Romm Publishing Company, 1900), henceforth: Steinschneider; and Israel Klausner (see above, note 2), henceforth: Klausner.
[6] R. Dovid Kamenetsky, רבנו חיים עוזר: רבן של כל בני הגולה (Jerusalem: n.p., 2021), volume 1.
[7] Our author may have been misled by Leyzer Ran, ירושלים דליטא (New York: Wilner Verlag, 1974), vol. 1, p. 101, who mistakenly identified the same photograph as containing the graves of both R. Mordechai Meltzer and R. Abraham Danzig in the Old Jewish cemetery of Vilna. The same error appears in Y. Kremerman (see above, note 4), p. 267.
[8] See R. Mordechai Meltzer’s posthumous publication, תכלת מרדכי (Vilna: Matz, 1889). On the reverse side of the second title page, the full text of the lengthy epitaph on his tombstone in Lida appears in print. A short biography appears on pp. 20-24, which makes mention of the mausoleum constructed over his grave, and that it has become a pilgrimage site. Cf. A. Manor et al, eds., ספר לידא (Tel-Aviv: Or-Li Publishers, 1970), pp. 91-92.
[9] See Steinschneider, p. 122, note 1.
[10] Klausner, p. 75, notes that the inner epitaph was no longer extant in 1935.
[11] See Isaac Meyer Dik, האורח (Vilna, 1846), pp. 30-31. The place and date of publication are uncertain; and the volume may have been co-authored. For bibliographical discussions, see the sources cited in the entry האורח in מפעל הביבליוגרפיה העברית accessed at:  https://uli.nli.org.il/permalink/972NNL_ULI_C/4upfj/alma99682727008422).
[12] Steinschneider, pp. 123 and 194.
[13] For R.Shmuel Strashun, see Zvi Harkavy’s “,תולדות רש“ש וכתביו” appended to his edition of מקורי הרמב“ם לרש“ש (Jerusalem: ha-Eretz Yisraelit, 1957), pp. 53-58. Cf. David Abraham, פנקסו של שמואל (Jerusalem: Makhon Yerushalayim, 2011).
[14] For the text of the inner epitaph, see Fuenn, pp. 254-255.
[14a] See note 14.
[15] Klausner, p. 74.
[16] A vast literature has developed regarding the history and legends surrounding the life of R. Yoel David Strashunsky. These include novels, plays, and film productions. For one of the many failed attempts to distinguish fact from fiction, but fascinating nonetheless, see Samuel Vigoda, Legendary Voices (New York: M.P. Press, 1981), pp. 390-427.

Some of the more important scholarly studies are: Hillel Noah Steinschneider “תולדות הש“ץ הנפלא מווילנא ר‘ יואל דוד לעוווענשטיין” in תלפיות (Berditchev, 1895), part 12, pp. 8-13; Abraham Z. Idelsohn, “תולדות הש“ץ יואל דוד ‘בעל הבית‘ל” in Hebrew Union College Monthly 20 (May-June 1933), pp. 27-29; Isaac Schiper, “אונבעקאנטע ארכיון– מאטעריאלען וועגען דעם אויפהאלט פון ווילנער ‘בעל–הבית‘ל “אין ווארשא אין יהאר 1842 Haynt, September 23, 1934, p. 9; Silja Haller et al, eds., Joachim Stutchewsky Der Wilnaer Balebessel (Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 2013; and James Loeffler, “Promising Harmonies: The Aural Politics of Polish-Jewish Relations in the Russian Empire,” Jewish Social Studies 20:3 (2014), pp. 1-36 (especially pp. 19-25). קבר
[17] I translate “grave site” [for Hebrew קבר] rather than “tombstone” [for Hebrew מצבה], for –strictly speaking – the form נתחדש can only be the passive verbal form for a masculine noun. But I have some doubts about whether the sign painters in 19^th and 20^th century Vilna cared very much about Hebrew grammar. See below, in the center of the photograph at Sample 6, where the celebrity marker at the top refers to מצבת, yet under it, the marker specifically states נתחדש. In any event, the masculine noun קבר, ordinarily rendered “grave,” bears secondary meanings including “grave site” and “tombstone.” See Klausner, passim, who uses the term regularly for “grave site” and “tombstone; and cf. A. Even-Shoshan, מלון אבן-שושן (Tel-Aviv: Am Oved, 2003), vol. 5, p. 1623.
[18] The Zedakah Gedolah Society was Jewish Vilna’s official communal institution in charge of public welfare. Given the rampant poverty that prevailed throughout much of Vilna’s Jewish history, this was one of the most important institutions in Vilna. It assumed even greater significance when the Czarist regime abolished Jewish Vilna’s “Kahal” structure in 1844. One of the Zedakah Gedolah’s many tasks was to provide the lion’s share of the funding necessary for the upkeep of Vilna’s Jewish cemeteries. See Israel Cohen, Vilna (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1943), pp. 121-122; cf. Israel Klausner, וילנה ירושלים דליטא: דורות הראשונים 1495-1881 (Tel-Aviv: Kibbutz Ha-Me’uhad, 1988), pp. 393-394. For a vivid description of how the Zedakah Gedolah provided Passover aid for the poor in late 19^th century Vilna, see David Livni, ירושלים דליטא (Tel-Aviv, 1930), vol. 1, pp. 9-43. With the advent of World War I, it fell into a period of steady decline and would ultimately be liquidated under Polish rule in 1931. See Israel Cohen, op. cit., pp. 394-397; and cf. Andrew N. Koss, “Two Rabbis and a Rebbetzin: The Vilna Rabbinate during the First World War,” European Judaism 48:1 (2015), pp. 120-122.
[19] It is clearly a Jan Bulhak photograph, taken between 1912-1915 at the Old Jewish cemetery.
[20] The date תרע“ג = [5]673 = 1913, and not תרס“ג = [5]663 = 1903, is confirmed by several different photographs, taken from different angles, of Roza’s grave site (in my personal collection of Vilna materials).
[21] Fuenn, p. 230 and cf. his Introduction, p. xxxi. R. Hayyim’s father’s name was Shabsai. For the form “Shebsil” derived from “Shabsai,” see Alexander Beider, A Dictionary of Ashkenazic Given Names (Avotaynu: Bergenfield, 2001), pp. 409-411.
[22] Steinschneider, p. 97. For the date, see the essay “דער אלטער בית עולם” authored by “ב–מ–ב” in the weekly ווילנער וואכענבלאט, August 12, 1910, pp. 2-3.
[23] Anyone who has frequented, for example, the old Jewish cemeteries in Frankfurt, Mainz, Worms, Prague, and Cracow, will know that celebrity markers are commonplace and mostly late, and that many faded tombstones have been re-inked, often wrongly. Sadly, even the Gaon of Vilna’s epitaph, while yet in the Old Jewish cemetery, was – in part – re-inked wrongly. See the discussion of the Gaon’s epitaph in my “The Paper Brigade’s Recording of Epitaphs in Vilna’s Old Jewish Cemetery: A Literary Analysis,” The Seforim Blog, February 26, 2024 (SeforimBlog.com). It should also be noted that there are different categories of celebrity markers, such as large maps or lists of famous names (often encased in glass) at the cemetery entrance, arrows posted along the route to a celebrity grave, new inscriptions on old tombstones or mausoleums, and entirely redone tombstones (enlarged and enhanced to underscore their celebrity status). I am indebted to Marcin Wodzinski (Professor of Jewish Studies at the University of Wroclaw in Poland), who in a personal communication kindly informed me about yet another factor that plays a role in celebrity markers: the material out of which a tombstone is made, and its malleability. If you cannot easily engrave an inscription on a tombstone, others ways will be found to mark a celebrity grave. Thus, local geophysical factors may well influence the kind of celebrity markers used in a particular cemetery.

Hidden Treasures in Jewish Medical History at the British Library: A Post Cyber-Attack Homage

Rabbi Edward Reichman, MD

On October 28, 2023, the British Library (BL) fell victim to one of the worst cyber-attacks in British History.[1] Though its precious holdings thankfully remained physically unperturbed, access by scholars across the globe to the online catalog of its massive and formidable collection, some 170 million items, was disrupted. This incident shook the world’s bibliophiles to the core, and its impact on the academic community is both inestimable and ongoing. From a Jewish perspective, the BL houses one of the world’s greatest Judaica/Hebraica collections, and these unprecedented events remind us not to take for granted the value of this hallowed institution for Jewish scholarship. As of this writing, attempts to access the British Library’s Hebrew Collection online yielded the following results:[2]

In the light of this event, I feel compelled to share the lesser known, though not insignificant, contribution of the BL to the study of Jewish medical history. I explore some exceedingly rare and important items which reflect on the education of Jewish medical students in Early Modern Europe. Most are unica, found only in the BL, and all have previously escaped notice of Jewish medical historians.

I. Congratulatory Poems for Jewish Medical Graduates of the University of Padua

From the Middle Ages through much of the Early Modern period Jews were barred by Papal decree from medical training at European universities. The University of Padua in northern Italy was the first university to officially admit Jewish students for formal medical training, and its role in Jewish medical history has been well-studied. In the early seventeenth century there evolved a practice of writing congratulatory poetry for the Jewish medical graduates of the university. This poetry, which I have discussed previously in this blog,[3] appears in broadside, printed and manuscript form. The BL has unique examples in both broadside and manuscript.

A. Broadsides

The majority of the extant broadsides of this genre are found in the National Library of Israel and the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York, but the BL’s collection is substantial and contains the very earliest known examples. The BL broadsides, which took me some years to locate, are found in three miscellaneous folders and are not itemized or described in the BL catalog. A scholar of Italian Jewish history[4] directed me to an old shadow NLI catalog, still accessible online until recently, that had skeletal information about a few of these poems in the BL, but no shelfmarks were noted.[5] The librarians of the BL were unaware of these broadsides. After some years, I incidentally came across a reference to a folder of miscellaneous Hebrew broadsides in the BL and hoped that the medical poems would be among them. With the assistance of a young scholar in London,[6] who manually investigated the files on my behalf, I was ultimately able to identify all the poems.

I have identified a total of 57 different printed congratulatory broadsides for Jewish Padua medical graduates, copies of some of which can be found in multiple libraries. The BL holds a total of fourteen different broadside medical poems, nine of which are not found elsewhere.[7] Some of the personalities who are either authors or recipients of these poems include Salomon Conegliano,[8] Isaac Hayyim Cantarini,[9] and Shmuel David Ottolenghi.[10]

While the earliest poem in the JTS Library is from 1643, and in the NLI from 1664, the BL holds two broadsides from the year 1625, the earliest known examples of this genre. Below is an example of one of the 1625 poems:

Year: 1625
Graduate: COLLI, Marchio di Salomon (Machir ben Shlomo)[11]
Author: KOHEN (Katz), Shabtai ben Meir

The following, also only found in the BL, is a rare example of a congratulatory medical broadside for which the author provides a cipher for his name.

Year: 1643
Graduate: BINGEN, Salomon di Abram (Shlomo ben Avraham)[12]
Author: Only the first name is provided, and even this is done through a cipher. No last name is provided.
Location: British Library[13]

Below is the cipher for author’s first name, which I invite the reader to decipher.[14]

(While I am aware of the answer for this cipher, there is another author’s cipher whose solution remains unknown:[15]

Any assistance would be greatly appreciated.)

These early examples are important not only for assessing the beginnings and duration of the congratulatory medical broadsides but for evaluating their artistic elements as well. For example, there are stylistic aspects of the two earliest broadsides in the BL that are not found in any subsequent broadsides.[16]

B) Congratulatory Poems in Manuscript

I have identified dozens of congratulatory poems for Padua graduates that are found only in manuscript. Some are written as if templated for publication as a broadside. There is one manuscript congratulatory poem in the BL that solves a mystery which plagued the great Jewish scholar Meir Benayahu. In an article about a group of physician-poets in Early Modern Italy,[17] Benayahu published a transcription of a lengthy poem[18]written in honor of the graduation of Salomon Lustro from Padua in 1697.[19] Below are a few stanzas at the end of the poem as published by Benayahu.

Since the authorship is not explicit, Benayahu, through creative analysis of assumed allusions in the final lines, suggests Isaac Hayyim Cantarini as the likely author.

Unbeknownst to Benayahu, another manuscript copy of the same poem is found in the BL.[20] The same final verses appear below, though with a different layout:

There is also another key difference, an additional line.

The last line provides the name of the author, one Yitzḥak the son of Yedidia Zecharia meUrbino. As described in the introduction to the manuscript, after Urbino died, his son, Yedidia Binyamin, collected his father’s poetic writings into an untitled manuscript volume, now housed in the BL. This volume contains two poems for Lustro.

II. Training of Jewish Medical Students in the Netherlands and the Sloane Dissertation Collection

In the early to mid-seventeenth century, medical schools in the Netherlands began allowing Jewish medical students to matriculate. Scholars have explored this chapter of Jewish medical history.

Isaac Van Esso[21] and Hindle Hes[22] have produced lists of the Jewish physicians who trained and practiced in the Netherlands; Yosef Kaplan has written extensively about many of these physicians;[23] Manfred Komorowski has amassed an invaluable biobibliographical index of Jewish physicians in the 17^th-18^th centuries,[24] which includes those from the Netherlands; and Kenneth Collins has addressed the transition of the training of Jewish medical students from Padua to the Netherlands.[25]

The most famous of these Dutch medical schools was the University of Leiden. As opposed to Padua, Leiden routinely required the writing and presentation of dissertations as part of its curriculum. These dissertations are an invaluable source for the history of Jewish medical education, and while the aforementioned scholars have included them in their works to varying degrees, there is more to be learned from them.

Here I distinguish between two categories of dissertations, something not typically noted by Jewish medical historians. While some dissertations were written as part of curricular course work, much like today’s term paper, there was a separate requirement for every student to complete a comprehensive dissertation as a prerequisite for graduation. These graduation dissertations are invariably headlined with the specific phrase “Dissertatio (or Disputatio) Medica Inauguralis.” I shall refer to the non-graduation dissertations as curricular dissertations. The curricular dissertations where generally not preserved by the universities and were thought to be of less significance. Historians often are unaware of the distinction between the two.

This example is the graduation dissertation of Josephus Abarbanel, nephew of Menaseh ben Israel and cousin of Samuel ben Israel, who also trained at (but did not graduate from) Leiden.[26] Note the Jewish or Hebrew date for the year, 5415, something unique to the dissertations of Leiden Jewish graduates.

While the University of Leiden holds many of these dissertations, its collection is not complete. According to librarians and historians, with respect to student dissertations, there is a major gap, or “black hole” in the holdings of the Library of the University of Leiden for the years 1610-1654.[27] It is precisely this period that comprises the cradle of Dutch Jewish medical student training.

Fortunately, there is another major repository of Leiden dissertations, found ironically outside of the Netherlands, that partially fills this lacuna. The physician/scientist Sir Hans Sloane (1660-1753) amassed an impressive collection of plants, minerals, anatomical specimens, printed works, and manuscripts, mostly relating to the fields of medicine and natural history. This collection now resides in the BL. Sloane’s printed book collection includes a large number of medical dissertations submitted at Dutch universities (Amsterdam, Utrecht, Harlingen, but primarily Leiden), in particular a magnificent set of Leiden medical dissertations covering the period of 1593-1746. There are 53 volumes all bound in white vellum, with each volume holding some 20 to 75 dissertations,[28] including exceedingly rare curricular dissertations. In 1997, Jaap Harskamp produced a comprehensive catalog of the dissertations in the British Library based on the Sloane collection.[29]

Many of these works found are not found in any of the major libraries or universities in the Netherlands. Among these handsome volumes we find the dissertations of the earliest Jewish students to study at Leiden, allowing us to gain a window into the nature of their training. Abarbanel’s dissertation pictured above is part of this collection.

Here I highlight the value of this collection for the study of Jewish medical history. In particular, two of the curricular dissertations, authored by Jewish medical students, have been previously overlooked. They both represent “firsts” in the field. We also explore the importance of this collection as an untapped resource for a Padua-esque practice in the Netherlands.

A) Benedict De Castro- the First Jewish Student to Matriculate at the University of Leiden and his Newly Discovered Dissertation

The de Castro Family is an illustrious Sephardic Jewish family of Spanish and Portuguese origin that produced many prominent physicians over the centuries.[30] After the onset of the Inquisition, members of the family emigrated to Bordeaux, Hamburg, and to cities in the Netherlands.

Rodrigo de Castro was a Portuguese physician who escaped the inquisition to Hamburg. He authored a landmark work on gynecology, De Universa Mulierum Medicina, and was held in great esteem by both the medical and Jewish communities. His youngest son was Benedict (also known as Benedictus a Castro, Baruch Nahmias or Benito).[31]

Benedict was a physician to nobles and royalty, including Christina, Queen of Sweden, to whom he dedicated a medical work in 1647.[32] Due to his success, he was the victim of attacks by Christian doctors and Lutheran clergy. One particularly virulent diatribe precipitated his publication of a pseudonymous polemical defense entitled Flagellum Calumniantium.[33] In this work, famous among the apologetic works of Jewish physicians, he counters the lies and slanders and enumerates the great achievements of Jewish physicians.

There is no consensus among scholars as to the medical education of de Castro, something we clarify here for the first time. Friedenwald simply assumes, not unreasonably, that he was a graduate of Padua, though he adds a question mark in the text.[34] Koren writes, “graduated in Leyden,”[35] while Komorowski[36] lists him as a graduate of the University of Franeker (Netherlands). Ruderman acknowledges that “it is not clear from what university he graduated.”[37]

There is no record of Benedict de Castro ever attending Padua, though his brother Daniel graduated in 1633.[38] The university records from this period are generally complete[39] and have also been specifically examined for Jewish graduates.[40]

On November 16, 1620, at the age of 23, we have record of Benedict matriculating to the University of Leiden Medical School,[41] making him the first Jewish student to attend this prestigious institution.

 

Our next record of Benedict’s medical training is a dissertation he composed in Leiden in 1621, which is part of the Sloane Collection at the BL.

This document has previously escaped notice of Jewish historians. Does this mean that Benedict graduated from Leiden? This dissertation is headlined as a “Disputatio Medica,” sans the word “inauguralis.” It is thus a rare curricular dissertation, confirming Benedict’s continued education at Leiden, though not his graduation. Its historical significance lies in the fact that it is both a dissertation of the first Jewish medical student to attend the University of Leiden (and possibly any Dutch university), as well as the earliest extant dissertation written by any Jewish medical student.

According to the Archivist at the University of Leiden, students had to re-enroll before the secretary every year. However, there are large gaps in these re-enrollment records for this period.[42] From this specific period, only the records of 1622 survived (the previous re-enrollment record is from 1607, and the next is from 1650). De Castro was indeed registered in February, 1622,[43] but there is no record of his ever graduating from Leiden.

There is however a record of Benedict’s matriculating and graduated from another Dutch institution, the University of Franeker.[44] He matriculated on August 3, 1624:

We have a record of his graduation just one month later, on September 3, 1624.[45] A copy of the original archival record of his graduation is below.

As opposed to today, when a student must attend a certain number of years in a university as a prerequisite to obtaining a degree, universities of this period, and in particular in the Netherlands, often gave exams and imprimatur to those who studied elsewhere, either formally or not, but passed the required examination demonstrating the required knowledge and competence.[46] It is thus not inconceivable that Benedict’s previous study at Leiden essentially prepared him for his graduation exams at Franeker. He would not be the only one to take this path. Some decades later, Isaac Rocamora, on the recommendation of Menaseh ben Israel, matriculated at the University of Franeker on March 29, 1647, and received his degree just two days later, on April 1, 1647.[47] Rocamora had also studied previously in Leiden. While we can conjecture as to the reason de Castro elected to complete his studies at Franeker, the basis for Rocamora’s decision is revealed in a letter by Gerhard Johann Voss to Anthony van der Linden, Rector at the University of Franeker, written at the behest of Menaseh ben Israel.[48] Below is a translation of the relevant section followed by a copy of the original letter:

Yesterday, Rabbi Menaseh ben Israel came to see me, accompanied by Isaac Rocamora, a Portuguese Jew. The latter has been studying medicine for the last two years and has made such progress that he is confident that his standard is such as to qualify him for the highest degree in the subject. Owing to his slender means, he prefers that Academy (i.e., University of Franeker) where the fees of graduation are least. This Rocamora has been warmly recommended to me by your friend, Menaseh…

I suspect de Castro’s motivation for transfer may have also been financially motivated.

De Castro was well respected in the Jewish community and at least one subsequent Leiden graduate, David Pina, dedicated his dissertation to him in 1678:

Pina highlights that de Castro served as physician to Queen Christina of Sweden.

B) David de Haro- The First Jewish Medical Graduate of the University of Leiden and his Newly Discovered Dissertation

While Benedict de Castro may have been the first Jewish medical student to attend Leiden, he did not have the distinction of being its first Jewish medical graduate. That would fall to David de Haro. I have elsewhere explored de Haro’s medical education and his challenges as a Jewish student at Leiden, unearthing some remarkable archival documents.[49] One of these documents is de Haro’s 1631 medical dissertation from Leiden.

As with de Castro, this is not de Haro’s graduation dissertation, or “Dissertatio Medico Inauguralis,” and was written for Professor Franco Burgersdijck’s course at the university. This dissertation is also housed in the BL,[50] though inexplicably not part of the Sloane collection. [51] De Haro graduated in 1633 as the first Jewish medical graduate of the University of Leiden.

In March of 1637, shortly after de Haro’s untimely death, we find that his personal library was put up for auction, and a catalog of the holdings was published.[52] According to one scholar, this may be the first printed sales catalog of a book collection of a Jewish owner.[53] Among the offerings, which include medical and Hebrew religious works, we find a copy of Benedict de Castro’s apologetic work (see #23 in the list below)

De Haro’s library also contained a copy of Benedict’s father’s classic work, De Morbis Mulier.[54]

Below is a list of the Hebrew books of de Haro’s collection that were offered for auction, many of which would be found in a Jewish library today.

One of the offerings is of a somewhat medical nature, Shevilei Emunah (#12). This work, written by Meir ben Isaac Aldabi (1310–1360), the grandson of R. Asher ben Yeĥiel, is a compilation of theories in philosophy, theology, psychology, and medicine. The material was culled from the existing literature of that time,[55] as stated by Aldabi in his introduction, but unfortunately there are no references, for which R. Aldabi apologizes. Many rabbinic authorities throughout the centuries turned to this work as a reference for medical knowledge.

C) Congratulatory Poetry for Jewish Medical Graduates in the Netherlands

The congratulatory poetry for the Jewish medical graduates of Padua was most often published as broadsides. Though underappreciated for their medical historical value, these attractive ephemera of Hebrew poems, as well as broadsides of other kinds, have long been prized by collectors for their general Jewish historical and artistic value. As such, they are primarily found in Jewish libraries. Little-known to even those in the field of Early Modern Jewish poetry, the custom of writing congratulatory poetry for Jewish medical graduates continued in the Netherlands (17th-18th centuries) and Germany (18th-19th centuries). However, instead of being published as free-standing broadsides, the poems were appended to medical dissertations with less visibility and circulation. (Padua students were not required to complete graduation dissertations, necessitating the publication of the poems independently.) Furthermore, medical dissertations are not typically found in Jewish collections. While comprehensive treatment of this second chapter of congratulatory poetry remains a desideratum, the BL’s Sloane Dissertation Collection has some rare examples of these “hidden” poems. One example is below:

Graduate: Jehosua Worms (Leiden-1687)
Author: Shlomo (AKA Zalman) ben Yehuda Levi Pikart

There were later physicians named Worms, a father and son, Asher Anshel Worms and Simon Wolf Worms. Perhaps Joshua was the father of Asher Anshel, though I have as yet found no evidence of such. Asher Anshel wrote Seyag Le Torah, a masoretic commentary on the Torah. The work was published posthumously by his son Simon. It was circulated in manuscript prior to publication and was apparently plagiarized by Joseph Heilbronn,[56] a fact alluded to in the book’s introduction. Asher Anshel also wrote also wrote a commentary on the song from the Hagaddah, Chad Gadya,[57] as well as books on algebra and chess. Simon Wolf graduated Geissen in 1768 with a dissertation on the topic of the impurity of the male reproductive seed (tumat zera). This is one of the more unique dissertation topics of a Jewish student I have come across.[58]

III. A Correction to the BL Catalog

While acknowledging the BL’s immense contributions to Jewish scholarship, including Jewish medical history, I humbly submit one very minor correction which might possibly lead scholars to an erroneous conclusion. Above we briefly discuss David de Haro and identify him as the first Jewish medical graduate of the University of Leiden, in 1633. However, perusal of the Sloan Leiden dissertation collection reveals an entry for a dissertation for Jahacobus de Paz from 1631.[59] This dissertation is not found in the University of Leiden Library.

Below is the catalog entry:

A careful analysis of the actual dissertation[60] below reveals that de Paz was Jewish, as he is identified as “Hebraeus,” and that this is a copy of his graduation dissertation, titled “Disputatio Medica Inauguralis.” Perhaps we were in error, and in fact de Paz is the first Jewish medical graduate of Leiden, completing his studies in 1631?[61]

Examination of both the cover and content of the dissertation provides an answer to this question. The bottom of the dissertation’s front cover, which typically lists the date, seems have been torn off the bottom of this copy. The BL catalog lists the publication date as 1631. This date is most certainly derived from the faint penciled numbers on the front cover to the right of the emblem:

How and when these numbers came to be written, and whether they were even meant to refer to the year of publication, I suspect we will never know. But a closer inspection of the dissertation contents reveals that the date of 1631 is decidedly in error. While not found ubiquitously in all of Leiden’s student dissertations, it was common for the students to include a dedication page. Dedicatees included mentors, family members, religious leaders and medical colleagues. Below is a copy of de Paz’s dedication page.

At the bottom of the list, we find the Jewish physicians Isaac Naar[62]  and Josephus Abrabanel (with the variant spelling, adding to the age-old debate, though Josephus himself spelled it Abarbanel).[63] Both Abrabanel, whose dissertation is pictured above, and Naar, graduated Leiden in 1655. Below is Naar’s dissertation:

Indeed, university records clearly list the graduation date of Jahacobus de Paz as July 4, 1658.[64] Here is a dissertation from the same year of another Jewish student, side by side with de Paz.

(Parenthetically, the students Abarbanel, Naar, Moreno, and likely de Paz used the Jewish version of the calendar year on the cover of their dissertations.) Thus, David de Haro still retains his distinction as the first Jewish medical graduate of the University of Leiden.

Conclusion

We have shared just a few of the British Library’s treasures that relate to Jewish medical history. Our picture of the training of Jewish medical students in Early Modern Europe, from the earliest Italian congratulatory poems to the earliest Jewish medical dissertations in the Netherlands, would be wholly incomplete without the library’s contributions. Yet, this is but one epithelial cell to an entire human body with respect to the library’s broader impact.

While I will of course completely overlook the British Library’s trivial and largely inconsequential misdating of de Paz’s dissertation, it behooves us all not to overlook nor take for granted their outsized contribution to the Jewish community’s and the world’s knowledge and scholarship.

Surrounding Independence Day
by Aaron Ahrend

Dr. Aaron Ahrend, a senior lecturer in the Department of Talmud at Bar-Ilan University, has published many studies on Talmudic commentary and Jewish liturgy.

The ancients established a sign by which one could determine on which days certain holidays occur. The sign is based on the pairing of the letters Aleph and Tav (א”ת) and the days of the Passover holiday.[1] Thus is the sign: Aleph-Tav (א”ת) = the day of the week on which the first day of Passover falls is the same day that Tisha B’Av falls in that year. Bet-Shin (ב”ש) = on the day of the week on which the second day of Passover falls, Shavuot falls. Gimel-Resh (ג”ר) = on the day of the week on which the third day of Passover falls, Rosh Hashanah falls. Dalet-Kuf (ד”ק) = on the day of the week on which the fourth day of Passover falls, the reading of the Torah occurs, i.e., Simchat Torah outside of Israel on the second day of Shemini Atzeret. Hei-Tzadi (ה”צ) = on the day of the week on which the fifth day of Passover falls, the fast, Yom Kippur, falls. Vav-Peh (ו”פ) = on the day of the week on which the sixth day of Passover falls, Purim falls before it. The final sign, Zayin-Ayin (ז”ע), remains unresolved: there was no holiday whose name begins with the letter Ayin that fell on the day that the seventh day of Passover falls.

And behold, when the State of Israel was established, the sign was completed: Zayin-Ayin (ז”ע) = the day of the week on which the seventh day of Passover falls is the day on which Independence Day falls, namely the 5th of Iyar (when it is not postponed or deferred). The inclusion of Independence Day within the framework of the אתב”ש signs of the holidays serves as a kind of proof or hint of its status as one of Israel’s holidays. At the entrance of the Tunisian synagogue Or Torah in Acre, a beautiful artistic creation dedicated to Independence Day was established. It was painted blue, the prominent color in the flag of the State of Israel, and it features symbols of the country, the IDF emblem, the flag of Israel, the walls of Jerusalem, the Hatikvah anthem, the blessing Shehecheyanu, excerpts of prayers, and above all these – the seven signs of אתב”ש representing the integration of Independence Day within the framework of Israel’s holidays.

There exists a great similarity between the essence of the seventh day of Passover, when the Egyptians drowned in the Red Sea while pursuing the Israelites upon their exodus from Egypt, and the essence of Independence Day: in both, there was a confrontation between the people of Israel and Egypt, and in it Israel prevailed despite having no chance of victory on its own against Egypt, with its organized army and sophisticated weapons.[2] Therefore, it was determined that the Haftarah of “Od Hayom” read abroad on the second day of the seventh day of Passover would be the Haftarah for Independence Day in the Land of Israel, as it is appropriate in content for this day.

Regarding the aforementioned sign, Rabbi Yoel Bin-Nun added:[3]

Isn’t Zayin-Ayin (ז”ע) a heavenly hint? Didn’t the British Mandate truly end on Saturday, the 6th of Iyar, at midnight, and only because David Ben-Gurion and his colleagues decided to honor the Sabbath, they advanced the declaration of independence of the State of Israel to Friday, the 5th of Iyar, which corresponds to the seventh day of Passover. This alone provides a sufficient reason for all God-fearing individuals to truly celebrate Independence Day.

In other words, the declaration of independence of the state on Friday, the 5th of Iyar, which allows for the sign Zayin-Ayin (ז”ע), occurred solely due to the consent of the heads of state, who were not religious, to consider the Sabbath. This surprising and joyful consideration alone is sufficient reason to celebrate Independence Day.

* * *

Many devout Jews do not celebrate Independence Day at all and do not acknowledge to the Holy One, blessed be He, for the establishment of the State of Israel. In contrast, Zionist rabbis believe that thanks should be given to the Holy One, blessed be He, for the wonder and great miracle of the State’s existence, even though it is not particularly a religious state.[4]

For those who do not celebrate the establishment of the state and Independence Day, we bring here the words of Rabbi Shimon Deutsch (1814? – 1878), one of the important disciples of the Hatam Sofer. This sage had a strong connection and love for the land of Israel, and even ascended and resided in Jerusalem. In his book Imrei Shefer on Tractate Berakhot, he discusses the Mishnah (54a): “One who sees a place where miracles were performed for Israel says: Blessed is He who performed miracles for our ancestors in this place.” Rabbi Deutsch asks why the Mishnah uses the plural form: “where miracles were performed,” when even a person who sees a place where only one miracle was performed for our ancestors should bless with this blessing? He answers: Sometimes the Holy One, blessed be He, performs a miracle for a person, but the one experiencing the miracle does not recognize his miracle. Therefore, it is said: “You give to those who fear You a banner to rally to” (Psalms 60:6), meaning, giving a person a miracle that he recognizes as a miracle. In other words: He will have the miracle that he recognizes and acknowledges to the Holy One, blessed be He. Therefore, when a person blesses for any miracle, there are here two miracles, since recognizing the miracle is considered an additional miracle. In light of this, it is understood why even for one miracle, the Mishnah uses the word ‘miracles’ in the plural form.

On Independence Day every year, we are obligated to thank the Holy One, blessed be He, for many miracles: the establishment of the State of Israel, the victory in the War of Independence of the few against the many, the ingathering of exiles, the development of the Torah world, and the country’s progress in many areas. Many have described the numerous achievements of the State of Israel over the years. Here is an excerpt from the words of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks in his unique formulation:

Israel has done extraordinary things. It has absorbed immigrants from 103 countries, speaking 82 languages. It has turned a desolate landscape into a place of forests and fields. It has developed cutting-edge agricultural and medical techniques and created one of the world’s most advanced high-tech economies. It has produced great poets and novelists, artists and sculptors, symphony orchestras, universities and research institutes. It has presided over the rebirth of the great Talmudic academies destroyed in Eastern Europe during the Holocaust. Wherever there is a humanitarian disaster in the world, Israel is often the first to offer aid and the most efficient in doing so — if only allowed to. It has shared its technologies with other developing countries.[5]

* * *

Following the war that broke out during Simchat Torah this year, synagogues began to increase prayers for the well-being of IDF soldiers, the wounded, and the captives, more than usual.[6] Even artists expressed their opinions on these prayers and designed them in unique forms, two examples of which are presented here.

The company A La Mode from Modi’in designed the Mi Sheberach prayer for IDF soldiers and the prayer for the peace of the State of Israel written on glass perspex within a frame creating the shape of the map of Israel.[7]

The artist Kalman Gavriel from the Jewish Quarter of Jerusalem focused on the soldier. He painted a soldier seen from his back, praying and wrapped in a blue tallit, resembling the flag of the country. The figure of the soldier is composed of words: in the center of the tallit is the Mi Sheberach prayer for the soldiers, at the hem are fitting verses from Psalms: “The Lord shall guard your going out and your coming in, from now and to eternity” (Psalms 121:8), “I will lie down and sleep in peace, for You alone, Lord, make me dwell securely” (Psalms 4:9), and the phrase “He who believes does not fear”; the soldier’s pants and boots are formed from the verse speaking of walking: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me” (Psalms 23:4); on the sides of the soldier there is a sort of “border” composed of symbols of the combat units of the IDF; at the bottom, planes are drawn, a soldier hangs a flag symbolizing the victory in the War of Independence, and three soldiers gaze upward symbolizing the victory in the Six-Day War.

Notes:

[This article is a translation of Aaron Ahrend, “Surrounding Independence Day,” Daf Shvui (Bar-Ilan University), no. 1568: Parashat Kedoshim (11 May 2024): 3-4 (Hebrew).]

[1] Rashi to Arakhin 9b s.v. Sheneihem; Rabbi Simcha Vitry, Machzor Vitry II, 581 (Hebrew).
[2] Yaakov Shmuel Spiegel, “Allusions and Derashot on Yom Haatzmaut,” in Aaron Ahrend, Israel’s Independence Day: Research Studies (Jerusalem: Office of the Campus Rabbi of Bar-Ilan University, 1998), 244-252 (Hebrew).
[3] Yoel Bin-Nun, Nes Kibbutz Galuyot (Jerusalem, 2011), 86 (Hebrew).
[4] Aaron Ahrend, Israel’s Independence Day: Research Studies (Jerusalem: Office of the Campus Rabbi of Bar-Ilan University, 1998), 13-19, 38-41 (Hebrew).
[5] Jonathan Sacks, Future Tense (Jerusalem: Maggid, 2021), 141 (Hebrew). In another context, he raises an interesting point: “I seriously suspect that if Herzl were to rise today for the resurrection, he would recite the Shehecheyanu blessing and also say Al HaNissim. For even he did not envision anything as impressive as the State of Israel today.” See Jonathan Sacks, “Interview with Rabbi Nahum Rabinovitch,” in Nahum Rabinovitch, Mesilot Bilvavam (Maaleh Adumim, Israel: Hotsaʼat Maʻaliyot, 2015), 505 (Hebrew).
[6] Even in the Hasidic world, which does not typically pray for the well-being of soldiers, additional prayers were added as a result of the war. See Levi Cooper, “Hasidim Praying for Soldiers,” in Aviad Hacohen and Menachem Butler, eds., Praying for the Defenders of Our Destiny: The Mi Sheberach for IDF Soldiers (Cambridge, MA: The Institute for Jewish Research and Publications, 2023), 173-197.
[7] In Kehillat Ahavat Tzion in Ramat Beit Shemesh Aleph, members acquired the artwork of the Mi Sheberach prayer for soldiers and placed it on a wall in the synagogue, thereby expressing solidarity with praying families whose children were drafted into the war.

Abraham Rosenberg, R. Chaim Heller, R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach on Conversion, Abortion, Mercy Killings, and new pictures and videos of R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg

Marc B. Shapiro

1. In my post here I discussed the enigmatic plagiarizer Abraham Rosenberg. As we saw, in 1923 and 1924 Rosenberg published articles on the Jerusalem Talmud in the Orthodox journal Jeschurun, and he later published Al Devar Tikunei Nushaot bi-Yerushalmi. In this last work, Rosenberg refers to R. Chaim Heller as his friend. I and so many others assumed that “Rosenberg” was a pseudonym, but Moshe Dembitzer, the expert on everything related to R. Heller, has pointed out to me that this appears not to be the case. Here is a letter Dembitzer found in the JDC archives from R. Heller to Cyrus Adler. As you can see, R. Heller mentions A. Rosenberg—the letter that is unclear must be an “A”—and one of his essays on the Jerusalem Talmud. He also mentions that Rosenberg “is considered only one of the ordinary students.”

Dembitzer also found another connection between R. Heller and Rosenberg. Here is a note from R. Charles B. Chavel’s edition of Hizkuni’s commentary on the Torah, p. 525.

Here is Rosenberg’s Al Devar Tikunei Nushaot bi-Yerushalmi, p. 102, where he cites the same explanation that Chavel cited in the name of R. Heller (but Rosenberg takes credit for it himself).

Regarding the plagiarisms of Rosenberg, I must also thank Gershon Klapper who alerted me to other examples. He wrote to me:

Rosenberg’s first article (לחקר תלמוד הירושלמי) opens אין מן הצורך לשנות את הידוע כי תלמוד הבבלי שנחתם לא זזה ידם של חכמי ישראל ממנו, very similar to how R. Heller’s ע”ד מסורת הש”ס בירושלמי begins, אין מן הצורך לשנות את הידוע כי תלמוד הירושלמי הוא עדין כשדה שאין עובד בו. But the next part of his introduction to that article is taken, slightly rearranged, from Steinschneider’s ספרות ישראל vol. 2, p. 103 (it reappears at the beginning of ע”ד תקוני נוסחאות בירושלמי, which includes most of this article’s content), as is the line beginning פעולתם של הגאונים. He does paraphrase some other language from R. Heller in the introduction, but again it isn’t word-for-word.

His second article (פסוקי המקרא שבתלמוד) opens

כי חכמי התלמוד היו בקיאים בכל ספרי התנ”ך עד להפליא, – דבר זה ידוע לכל מי שלמד גמרא, ואפילו למי שהצליף בה סקירה שטחית. כמעט מכל דף ודף שבתלמוד נראה, כי פסוקי התנ”ך, ואפילו המקראות “האובדים והנדחים” שברשימות השמות בעזרא ובדברי הימים היו שגורים על פי התנאים והאמוראים בתכלית הדיוק. בעלי התוספות (ב”ב ד’ קי”ג בד”ה תרוייהו) לא חששו להחליט, שהאמוראים פעמים שלא היו בקיאים בפסוקים. אבל כבר הודו שם בעלי התוס’ עצמם שאין החלטה זו מוכרחת וכמו שכתב הרשב”ם שם. וגם הראיה שהביאו מדברי ר’ חייא בר אבא, שאינו יודע אם נאמר בי’ הדברות טוב או לא (ב”ק נה.) אינה מוכרחת שהרי ברור הדבר, כי דברי רחב”א, אינם אלא דברי בדיחותא, כדי לדחות את השואל.

Almost every word of this comes from an article of the same title by Yisrael Chaim Tawiow which appeared in HaShiloach 29 (July-Dec. 1913). The rest of the second article is taken from Baer Ratner, סדר עולם רבא pp. 103ff. and Samuel Rosenfeld, משפחת סופרים pp. 98, 100, 105, etc.

Klapper also called my attention to Rosenberg’s plagiarism of part of a paragraph in R. Heller’s article that appears in Le-David Zvi (David Zvi Hoffmann Jubilee Volume, Hebrew section). Compare p. 56 there with Rosenberg, Al Devar Tikunei Nushaot bi-Yerushalmi, p. 11. As Klapper notes, it is quite ironic that Rosenberg leaves out the following sentence from R. Heller that occurs in the middle of the passage he plagiarizes:

ויש שיועיל לנו הציון לברוח מן העבירה ולעשות מצוה לאמר דבר בשם אומרו

While on the topic of R. Chaim Heller, first let me share this wonderful picture from R. Ahron Soloveichik’s wedding in which one can see the Rav, R. Heller and R. Yaakov Kamenetsky. As far as I know, this picture has never appeared online. I thank Yoel Hirsch for providing me with the picture.

From R. Kamenetsky’s recently published Emet le-Yaakov al Nakh, vol. 1, p. 185 n. 2, we learn that in 1937 R. Kamenetsky visited Boston to discuss with R. Soloveitchik opening a yeshiva together.

In 1924 R. Heller published his study of the Samaritan version of the Torah, Ha-Nusah ha-Shomroni shel ha-Torah (Berlin, 1924). In 1972 Makor, which published so many valuable reprints of old seforim, decided to also reprint R. Heller’s Ha-Nusah ha-Shomroni. The problem was that R. Heller had an heir, and she was the only one with the legal right to reprint his books. This led to the following letters sent by Miriam Heller’s attorney (the letters are found in the Israel State Archives, 14924/3, available here [before the recent cyber attack on the archives], pp. 35ff.). From these letters, we learn that there were other unauthorized reprints of R. Heller’s works.

One final point about R. Heller is the following: In 1912 he was appointed rav of the city of Lomza. Here is a report on his appointment from the newspaper Ha-Mitzpeh, March 29, 1912.

The writer is simply amazed that a Polish city, full of Hasidim, would hire as its rav a “Rabbi Dr.” Of course, R. Heller was a very unique “Rabbi Dr.”

2. Because I discussed conversion in the last post, I would like to call attention to R. Yoel Amital’s discovery of how R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach’s view on the matter has been presented.[1] The issue R. Amital focuses on is whether a conversion for someone who does not observe mitzvot takes effect. I am referring to one who tells the beit din at the time of conversion that he accepts the mitzvot, but we see later that this was not the case.

In his letter in R. Zvi Cohen’s Tevilat Kelim (1975), R. Auerbach is clear that ex post facto such a conversion is still valid.

The crucial words are:

בכגון דא נלענ”ד שכל המסייעים לגירות כזו, אף שבדיעבד הם גרים גמורים, אפי”ה המגיירים אותם עוברים בלאו של לפני עור וגו’

According to R. Auerbach, because be-diavad such converts are Jewish, to convert them is a violation of lifnei iver. As R. Auerbach explains, before conversion, these people could work on Shabbat and eat non-kosher, but now that they are Jewish they are forbidden to do so. By converting people who will be committing these and other sins, the beit din has violated the prohibition of lifnei iver.

As R. Amital shows, in subsequent printings of R. Cohen’s book, R. Auerbach’s letter is printed with a significant addition (here underlined):

בכגון דא נלענ”ד שכל המסייעים לגירות כזו, אף שהם טועים לחשוב שבדיעבד הם גרים גמורים, אפי”ה המגיירים אותם עוברים בלאו של לפני עור וגו’

And

בכגון דא נלענ”ד שכל המסייעים לגירות כזו, אף אם הם טועים לחשוב שבדיעבד הם גרים גמורים, אפי”ה המגיירים אותם עוברים בלאו של לפני עור וגו’

When this letter was printed in R. Auerbach’s Minhat Shlomo, vol. 1, no. 35:3, the wording was altered further:

בכגון דא נלענ”ד שכל המסייעים לגירות כזו, אף דהם טועים לחשוב שהם גרים גמורים, אפי”ה גם לשטתם המגיירים אותם עוברים בלאו של לפני עור וגו’

In Ha-Ma’yan 56 (Nisan 5776), p. 89, in response to R. Amital’s article, R. Aharon Goldberg, a grandson of R. Shlomo Zalman, published a picture of R. Auerbach’s original letter. The wording is identical to what appears in the first edition of R. Cohen’s book. So how to explain the later additions? R. Goldberg states that it is possible that the later changes were made with the consent of R. Auerbach. Although there is no evidence of this, I find it unlikely that R. Cohen would have altered R. Auerbach’s letter while R. Auerbach was still alive. A general rule of censorship and alteration of texts is that it is done after the author is no longer alive.

Leaving aside the updated version of the letter, there is still a problem that R. Amital confronts. According to R. Auerbach’s original letter, those who convert but do not become religious, their conversion is still valid. However, R. Auerbach also signed a public letter together with the Steipler, R. Shakh, and R. Elyashiv, which states that such a conversion has no validity. So which is it?

R. Mordechai Halpern has shown that R. Auerbach sometimes presented a “public” halakhah that was stricter than his true opinion, but which for some reason he did not wish to publicize.[2] R. Amital suggests that in this case we have a similar example where R. Auerbach publicly advocated a “strict” position regarding conversion that was not in line with his true opinion. (I put “strict” in quotes because while this position is strict in not regarding a conversion as valid, it is also “lenient” in that it tells someone who converted and did not intend to become religious that she can leave her husband without a get, does not need to fast on Yom Kippur, etc.)

R. Amital also claims, implausibly in my opinion, that the public letter R. Auerbach signed does not really stand in contradiction to the letter he sent to R. Cohen. How so? The public letter speaks of people who convert without accepting to observe mitzvot, while R. Auerbach in his letter to R. Cohen is referring to people who in front of the beit din do accept to observe mitzvot, but in their inner heart do not really have such an intention.

Contrary to R. Amital, this is clearly not what the public letter means. It is referring to people who converted in a beit din, but never intended to follow halakhah. It is simply impossible to read this public letter as referring to, in the words of R. Amital: גרים שלא קיבלו עליהם כלל בבית דין לקיים תורה ומצוות. There is no beit din in the world that does not require converts to accept Torah observance. The issue the letter was addressing is converts who, despite their verbal acceptance of mitzvot, do not follow through in practice. According to the letter, such a conversion is not valid. This is so obvious that one wonders how R. Amital could have ever offered his suggestion to explain the contradiction.

R. Halpern himself notes that he knows that R. Auerbach never backed away from his earlier position, as seen in his letter to R. Cohen, that someone who was converted by a proper beit din, but did not intend to observe mitzvot, ex post facto the conversion is still valid. Yet he states that R. Auerbach later concluded that this liberal approach should not be publicized.[3]

Even with the initial two “corrected” versions of R. Auerbach’s letter, R. Auerbach mentions that rabbis who convert people who have no intention of observing Torah violate the prohibition of putting a stumbling block before the blind. R. Auerbach states that until now the person converting violated Shabbat and ate non-kosher food and these were not sins. But now, after the conversion, he is violating the Torah. R. Auerbach concludes his letter as follows:

נמצא שכל המגיירים והמסייעים לכך הו”ל כגדול המחטיאו, ועוברים בלאו של ולפני עור לא תתן מכשול

The implication of this is that ex post facto the conversion is indeed valid, as otherwise there would be no sin committed by the convert and there would be no issue of putting a stumbling block before the blind. In the words of R. Yisrael Rozen:[4]

למדנו מדבריו שהגירות חלה, דאי לאו הכי אין כאן מכשול, שהרי נשאר בגיותו

In fact, we find many poskim who say that we should not convert people who do not intend on observing mitzvot, because then they will be punished for their sins. This shows that these poskim regard a conversion without intent to observe mitzvot as valid ex post facto. In a previous post here I cited a number of examples of this, and here is one more.

R. Raphael Shapiro, Torat Refael, vol. 3, no. 42, has a short responsum about whether to convert a woman who will not be observant. It was sent to R. Mordechai Klatchko of Volozhin, who would later come to the U.S. and serve as a rav in Boston.[5] R. Klatchko was clearly a fine talmid hakham, as can be seen from the two volumes of his Tekhelet Mordekhai. R. Klatchko wrote to R. Shapiro arguing that the woman should be converted even if she was not going to be observant so that her intended husband (or perhaps current husband) could fulfill the mitzvah of procreation (which he could not do if his children would not be halakhically Jewish). R. Shapiro disagrees and states that it is forbidden to convert her, as she will certainly not observe the niddah laws, and this will cause them both to violate a Torah prohibition.

What is important for our purposes is that both R. Klatchko and R. Shapiro assume that one who converts without intending to observe Jewish law is regarded as a valid convert. As long as the person goes through a halakhically proper conversion ceremony, that is what activates the conversion. It is hard for people today to understand how R. Shapiro never even raises the possibility that a conversion is invalid if the person converting intends to routinely violate fundamental Jewish laws by living an irreligious lifestyle. But as can be seen in so many different examples, a widespread view in prior generations—I don’t know if it was the majority view or not—was that as long as the conversion is carried out properly, what happens later, and what is in the convert’s heart at the time of the conversion ceremony, have no legal significance.[6]

Here is one further example of this approach, Be-Mar’eh ha-Bazak, vol. 4, no. 96.[7]

As you can see, the approach of Kollel Eretz Hemdah is that there is no possibility of voiding a conversion carried out by a proper beit din, even if the people converting had no intention of observing mitzvot. At the beginning of the volume, it states that the responsa were reviewed by R. Zalman Nehemiah Goldberg, R. Nachum Rabinovitch, and R. Yisrael Rozen, all significant figures in their own right.

Finally, it is also worth noting that no less a figure than R. Isaac Jacob Weiss refused to void a conversion even though the woman who converted never observed mitzvot. See Minhat Yitzhak, vol. 1, nos. 121-123.

I have a good deal more to say about conversion, but in the interest of space, let me just call attention to a couple of interesting things I recently saw. The first is that R. Moses Sofer states that non-Jews are rewarded in this world if they convert to Judaism.[8] I do not know of anyone else who says that there is a divinely ordained reward for one who converts.

The second interesting discussion about conversion I recently saw is R. Aviad Sar Shalom Basilea, Emunat Hakhamim, ch. 24 (pp. 264-265 in the Jerusalem, 2016 edition). Adopting the type of anachronistic explanation that some commentators have been fond of, R. Basilea assumes that Mahlon converted Ruth and married her with huppah and kiddushin. But this creates a problem, because if Ruth was Jewish, why did Naomi push her away? R. Basilea offers a possible answer: Naomi held like the Rif and the Rambam that since Ruth’s immersion in the mikveh was not before three men, it was invalid even be-diavad. However, Mahlon held like the other poskim that be-diavad, tevilah by oneself if valid.

והנה נעמי היתה סוברת כרי”ף והרמב”ם שאפילו בדיעבד אינה גיורת ולכן השתדלה להרחיקה, ומחלון היה סבור כאותם הפוסקים הסוברים כי גיורת גמורה היתה ולכן נשאה

Does anyone, even from the most traditional communities, still offer explanations along these lines? Here is what R. Shimon Shkop wrote in a different context, and you can see that he was not a fan of this type of explanation.[9]

ודבר זה מביא לידי גיחוך, כעין הפלפולים אם פרעה היה סובר שעבודא דאורייתא

Some time ago I was looking at Abba Appelbaum’s book Rabbi Azariah Figo (Drohobycz, 1907), and he offers the following examples of anachronistic explanations (p. 54):[10]

R. Gershon Ashkenazi (1618-1693), one of the greatest halakhists of his day, also wrote a work of homiletics, Tiferet ha-Gershuni. In his derashah for parashat Mas’ei (p. 236 in the 2009 edition) he portrays the daughters of Zelophehad as arguing from halakhic logic.

In his derashah for parashat Va-Yera (p. 48), in discussing the descendants of Ishmael, R. Ashkenazi suggests that they held that the law of ketubah is rabbinic.

אם כן בני ישמעאל היו סבורים כתובה מדרבנן

Appelbaum also calls attention to R. Meir Schiff’s elaboration at the end of his commentary to Bava Kamma (found in the Vilna Shas). He portrays the incident of Esau selling his firstborn status from a halakhic angle. As such, Jacob’s thoughts were no different than those of a later halakhic scholar:

ונסתפק יעקב באומרו כיום מחמת שני דברים, שגריעותא דבכורה מחמת דבר שלא בא לעולם ומחמת אונאה . . . ויעקב נתיירא או למד הפשט כרש”י ולזה אמר ויאמר השבע לי כמ”ש בח”מ סי ר”ט ס”ד בהגה”ה

Another example, not mentioned by Applebaum, is R. Samuel Edels (Maharsha) in his aggadic commentary to Sanhedrin 57b. R. Edels wonders why Pharoah commanded the Hebrew midwives to kill the newborn Hebrew children, as it would have made much more sense to have Egyptian midwives do this. He explains that the children were to be killed before birth and for non-Jews this would be regarded as murder, which Pharoah wanted to avoid.[11] He thus turned to Hebrew midwives as for them it is not murder to kill an unborn child.

Quite apart from the far-fetched nature of the explanation, as well as its assumption that even before the giving of the Torah the Israelites were bound by Jewish law, not Noahide law, I don’t think any reader of the biblical story would find it reasonable that Pharoah was concerned about anyone violating the commandment against murder. However, the passage is also of interest in seeing how Maharsha regarded the prohibition against abortion.[12] He even portrays Pharoah as thinking that there is no prohibition for Jews to abort a fetus, including right before birth.

דודאי פרעה לא שאל מהם להרוג הזכרים בידים דבן נח מוזהר על שפיכות דמים ולכך לא אמר כן למילדות המצריות שהוזהרו על שפיכות דמים אפילו בעוברים אבל למילדות העבריות אמר שהותר לכם להרוג עובר במעי אמו וראיתם על האבנים קודם שיצא לאויר העולם אם בן הוא וגו’ וכיון שאי אפשר בהם לפטור משפיכות דמים רק בתחילת יציאת הולד קודם שיצא ראשו או רובו הוצרך לתת להם סימנין כמו שכתוב בפרק קמא דסוטה [יא ע”ב]

There has been a good deal of discussion as to how to understand the Maharsha’s words שהותר לכם. Some assume that he meant that Pharoah was in error in thinking that there is no prohibition for Jews to abort a fetus.[13] It is also possible to explain that the prohibition against abortion for Jews is only rabbinic,[14] so at that period of time there was no prohibition. R. Yaakov Farbstein states flatly:[15]

ומבואר במהרש”א דאין איסור לישראל בהריגת העוברים

This notion, that the Maharsha is saying that there is no prohibition for Jews to abort a fetus, is not in line with the overwhelming majority view beginning with the rishonim. However, in one Tosafot, Niddah 44a-b, s.v. ihu, it does state that abortion is permitted for Jews, and it does not mention that there needs to be a good reason for this or provide a timeline after which abortion is not allowed.

וא”ת אם תמצי לומר דמותר להורגו בבטן . . . וי”ל דמכל מקום משום פקוח נפש מחללין עליו את השבת אף ע”ג דמותר להרגו

Pretty much every halakhist who deals with abortion struggles with this Tosafot, as they have found it very hard to accept that any rishon could permit abortion without restrictions. One approach offered is that Tosafot is saying that there is no Torah prohibition, but there would still be a rabbinic prohibition.[16]

R. Moshe Feinstein, in his classic responsum on abortion, claims that there is a mistake in Tosafot, and instead of the two appearances of דמותר it should instead say דפטור ההורגו in both places.[17] This is in line with the phenomenon I have discussed on a few occasions, where R. Moshe is prepared to deny the authenticity of problematic texts. R. Eliezer Waldenberg offered a strong rejoinder to R. Moshe.[18]

והנה עם כל הכבוד, לא אדוני, לא זו הדרך, וחיים אנו עפ”ד גאוני הדורות, והמה טרחו כל אחד ואחד לפי דרכו לבאר ולהעמיד כוונת דברי התוס’ בנדה וליישבם, ואף אחד מהם לא עלה על דעתו הדרך הקלה והפשוטה ביותר לומר שיש ט”ס בדברי התוס’ ובמקום מותר צריך להיות אסור [צ”ל פטור]

While no other authorities agree with R. Moshe that the Tosafot contains a mistaken text, many regard the language of Tosafot as not exact.[19]

Returning to R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, I know of another example where he did not want a view of his to be widely shared. R. Amit Kula discusses R. Avigdor Nebenzahl’s argument that according to a variety of sources one who is suffering greatly is allowed to commit suicide. He further adds that it would be permitted to kill another in this circumstance (active euthanasia), for if you are allowed to kill yourself for a good purpose, you can do it to another as well. R. Nebenzahl adds that some of what he says comes from R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach. He also quotes R. Auerbach that one can take medicine to reduce pain even if it will shorten one’s life.[20]

This information, which appeared in the first edition of R. Nebenzahl’s Be-Yitzhak Yikare, is not found in subsequent editions. R. Kula tells us that in these editions R. Nebenzahl inserted a note that the section was removed at the instruction of an unnamed scholar, and R. Mordechai Halpern quotes R. Nebenzahl that this scholar was none other than R. Auerbach.[21]

I find this of interest because if there is one thing that everyone knows, it is that Judaism does not allow active euthanasia (mercy killing). As is usually the case, matters are more complicated as has recently been shown by R. Yitzchak Roness in an article in Ha-Ma’yan.[22] He notes that R. Moshe Sternbuch does not believe that there is any prohibition for non-Jews to engage in mercy killing, since it is carried out for a good purpose. R. Yitzhak Zilberstein also inclines towards this position, and R. Moshe Feinstein suggests this as well, writing:[23]

אפשר שבן נח אינו אסור ברציחה שהוא לטובת הנרצח ושאני בזה האיסור לישראל מהאיסור לבן נח

R. Moshe and others specifically have in mind a non-Jew engaging in mercy killing of a Jew. The proof brought is the famous story of the death of R. Hanina ben Teradyon (Avodah Zarah 18a) where R. Hanina permits the executioner to raise the flame and remove the wool from his heart, thus actively hastening his death. R. Shaul Yisraeli goes the furthest, and for someone suffering greatly, and near death, he thinks that active euthanasia is permitted even if performed by a Jew.

R. Roness then notes that there is a dispute if one suffering great pain is allowed to commit suicide. For the side that permits this, R. Zilberstein adds that if it is permitted for the suffering individual, it will also be permitted for another to assist (active euthanasia). R. Roness also cites R. Hershel Schachter who states that active euthanasia, with the agreement of the patient, is not to be regarded as murder. He even suggests that for one suffering greatly, active euthanasia should be permitted:[24]

ההורג את חברו ברשותו יש לומר דאין בו לאו דרציחה אלא רק לאו דאך את דמכם, דלא גרע הורג חברו ברשותו מההורג את עצמו . . . ולמנוע א”ע מלסבול ייסורים דינו כפקו”נ, וכמשמעות התוס’ הנ”ל. ואם באמת כ”ה גדר היתר זה, א”כ אף בחולה הסובל יסורים קשים ומתחנן לאחרים ליטול את נפשו, אם נאמר כנ”ל, דבכה”ג אין לומר דבטלה דעתו וכו’, ג”כ הי’ צ”ל מותר מטעם פקו”נ ועיין בזה

And finally, here is what R. Chaim Kanievsky responded when asked if a Jewish patient near death could allow a non-Jew to end his life. R. Chaim does not say this is murder. On the contrary, he is inclined to permit it.[25]

אם שוהה אדם בבית חולים דעכו”ם ויש לו יסורים רבים במחלתו האנושה, ורוצה הרופא לחסוך לו היסורים ולקרב מותו ושואל ממנו רשות, האם מותר לו להסכים לזאת. והשיב רבנו שליט”א “יתכן שיש ללמוד זה ממעשה דרחב”ת” . . . והיאך הסכים רחב”ת שהעכו”ם יקרב מותו, והשיב רבנו: “איפה שהחולה מרגיש שזה טובתו יתכן שמותר כמו שמותר להתפלל עליו שימות.”

My question is, how come the “liberal” views I have mentioned are not better known?

7. In my last post here I included the first-ever color pictures of R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg. These went around the world very quickly, and as is the nature of the internet, where the pictures came from was soon forgotten. In fact, within 24 hours someone who does not read the Seforim Blog sent them to me as a great new discovery. When I told him that I am the one who published the pictures he was at first incredulous, stating that he just got them from his cousin.

Here are two more pictures of R. Weinberg that he sent to his family. They are from before World War II when he was still in Germany. In the picture where he is lying the ground, I do not know who the couple next to R. Weinberg is.[26]

 

And for an extra treat, here are the only known videos of R. Weinberg, and one of them is in color. I thank Noam Cohn for putting this together, at my request, from his family’s collection. The first part has R. Weinberg with R. Arthur Ephraim Weil, the rav of Basel, and R. Leo Adler who succeeded Weil as rav of Basel in 1956. The second video, in which you can see R. Weinberg in color together with R. Samuel Brom, the rav of Lucerne, is from winter 1958-1959 at the Silberhorn kosher hotel in Grindelwald. The hotel had just inaugurated its new mikveh, and it was important to the family who owned the hotel that R. Weinberg give his approval to the mikveh.[27] At 1:12 and 3:20 you can also see the famed educator and student of R. Weinberg, Dr. Gabriel H. Cohn. Here is a picture from the event and you can see R. Brom and Dr. Cohn standing next to R. Weinberg.

Regarding R. Adler, before coming to Basel he studied ten years at the Mir Yeshiva, including in Shanghai. After the war he was in New York where he taught Torah at Yeshiva University.[28]

8. In my last post here I had the following quiz questions.

Please identify the following and email me your answers:

1. There are two se’ifim in the Shulhan Arukh that only contain two words.

2. There is one siman in the Shulhan Arukh whose number is the gematria of the subject of the siman.

The answer to no. 1 is Yoreh Deah 65:6: נוהג בכוי, and Even ha-Ezer 126:42: מותרת בויו

The answer to no. 2 is Orah Hayyim no. 586. This is the laws of shofar, and the gematria of shofar is 586. This was noted by R. Jacob Emden and I mentioned this in my article “‘Truth’ and Authorial Intent in the Study of Torah,” available here.

A number of people provided the correct answers for no. 1 and no. 2, but no one got both of my intended answers. However, Moshe Schwartz got no. 2 right with a different answer than I was thinking of (meaning he answered both questions correctly). He noted that Yoreh Deah 107 speaks about cooking eggs, and the gematria of ביצה is 107.[29] Also, shortly before this post was completed, Sol Reich provided another example: Yoreh Deah 334 is about הלכות נידוי וחרם and the gematria of נידוי וחרם is 334.

9. Information about my summer tours with Torah in Motion to Central Europe and Spain is available here.

* * * * * * *

[1] “Ha-Im Giyuram shel Gerim she-Einam Shomrim Mizvot Hal Be-Diavad? Berur Da’at ha-Gaon Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach ZTL,” Ha-Ma’yan 56 (Tishrei 5776), pp. 43-46.
[2] Halpern, Refuah, Metziut ve-Halakhah (Jerusalem, 2011), pp. 35ff.
[3] Amital, “Ha-Im Giyuram,” p. 45.
[4] Ve-Ohev Ger (Alon Shvut, 2010), p. 161 n. 1.
[5] See R. Hayyim Fischel Epstein, Teshuvah Shelemah, vol. 2, Even ha-Ezer, nos. 29-30, and R. Elijah Klatzkin, Hibbat ha-Kodesh, no. 11, where they respond to R. Klatchko’s question about a get written in Roxbury (a neighborhood in Boston), but the get only mentioned “Boston”. This is mentioned by Hayyim Karlinsky, Rabbi Hayyim Fischel Epstein (New York, 1963), pp. 26-27.

This R. Klatchko should not be confused with an earlier R. Mordechai Klatchko of Lida who also wrote a book titled Tekhelet Mordekhai. It is noteworthy that R. Klatchko of Lida wrote a lengthy haskamah for the Mishnah Berurah. Regarding R. Klatchko of Lida, see here.[6] For another example, see R. Dov Cohen, Va-Yelkhu Sheneihem Yahdav (Jerusalem, 2009), pp. 333-334. Here R. Cohen describes how, at the direction of R. Isser Yehudah Unterman, he converted a woman intent on marrying a completely irreligious Jew. This is the sort of conversion that today would not be allowed in Israel or in any of the batei din recognized by the Israeli Chief Rabbinate. See also R. Avraham Shapiro, Kuntres Aharon in his edition of R. Isaac Jacob Rabinowitz, Zekher Yitzhak (Jerusalem, 1990), p. 396, who suggests that according to Maimonides, when it comes to conversion and acceptance of mitzvot,  כיון שקבל בפה אין דבריו שבלב דברים.

For a convert who is not observant, there is one halakhic consequence, at least according to many authorities: When they divorce the get should not say ben (or bat) Avraham avinu, but ploni ha-ger. See R. Shimon Yakobi, Bitul Giyur Ekev Hoser Kenut be-Kabbalat ha-Mitzvot (Jerusalem, 2009), pp. 103ff. (This is an official publication of the Israel rabbinical courts.) See also ibid., p. 105, for the shocking statistic that from 1996-2008, 97% of converts who divorced in the State of Israel were irreligious. There is no reason to doubt that the number of non-divorced converts who are irreligious is similar. If only 3% of converts in Israel are religious, then, as Yakobi rightly notes, it raises serious concerns about the conversion process.
[7] A similar responsum dealing with the same case appears in Be-Mar’eh ha-Bazak, vol 3, no. 89.
[8] Derashot Hatam Sofer, vol. 2, p. 301c. s.v. yeshalem.
[9] Hiddushei Rabbi Shimon ha-Kohen (Jerusalem, 2011), vol. 4, p. 324 (Kuntres Likutim, no. 5).
[10] I can’t say whether there is any plagiarism in this book, but another publication of Appelbaum was plagiarized from Abraham Berliner. See Nehemiah Leibowitz, “Al Devar ha-Takanah be-Venetzia,” Ha-Tzofeh le-Hokhmat Yisrael 13 (1929), p. 90.

Regarding anachronistic explanations, I think most would also include in this category R. Moses Sofer’s statement that Joseph wished to pray with a minyan rather than pray vatikin by himself. See Hatam Sofer al ha-Torah, vol. 1, p. 227.
[11] The same approach is independently suggested by R. Judah Rosanes, Parashat Derakhim, Derush 17, and R. Pinhas Horowitz, Panim Yafot, Ex. 1:15.

R. Ishmael holds that abortion is treated as murder for non-Jews (Sanhedrin57b) and Maimonides rules this way (Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Melakhim9:4). This halakhah has often been cited as proof that the crime of abortion is stricter for non-Jews than Jews, and that public policy should be in line with this. Yet in Sanhedrin 57b the Tanna Kamma disagrees with R. Ishmael and does not regard abortion as murder. In fact, according to the Tanna Kamma, abortion would seem to be permissible for non-Jews. R. Jeremy Wieder has raised the question, which I would like someone to offer a serious reply to, that while Maimonides and other authorities accept R. Ishmael as the binding decision, who says that non-Jews have to accept this? Why can’t non-Jews “poskin” like the Tanna Kamma? See here at minute 35:30.

R. Shneur Zalman Fradkin,Torat Hesed, Even ha-Ezer, no. 42:5 (in the note), suggests that Tosafot,Niddah 44a, that I discuss in the text, adopts the Tanna Kamma’s position, not the view of R. Ishmael. See Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 14, p. 184. The implications of this with regard to non-Jews are obviously significant.

See also R. Jacob Emden, Em la-Binah (Jerusalem, 2020), p. 197:

בילדכן את העבריות: לא גזר על שפיכות דמים אלא על העוברים

R. Emden seems to be saying that abortion is not regarded as murder for non-Jews. Perhaps relevant to this, it is worth noting that R. Meir Mazuz states that one should encourage a non-Jewish woman pregnant by a Jewish man to have an abortion. SeeMakor Ne’eman, vol. 3, no. 1509. See also R. Hanan Aflalo,Asher Hanan, vol. 8, no. 74. R. Joseph Babad, Minhat Hinnukh, 296:7, states that abortion is not murder for non-Jews, and therefore there is no law of rodef when it comes to a non-Jew seeking to kill a fetus. (Since later in this post I mention suicide, it is worth noting that R. Babad also states that non-Jews are not prohibited from committing suicide. See Minhat Hinnukh 34:8.)

Regarding abortion for Jews, R. Hershel Schachter has an interesting shiur here. His approach is, I think, the most lenient among contemporary poskim, as he states that for the health of the mother abortion is permitted up until the end of pregnancy, which is long after the time that the fetus is viable.

R. Schachter’s approach might be identical with the very lenient perspective of R. Abraham Isaac Bloch. See R. Mordechai Gifter,Milei de-Iggerot, vol. 7, p. 341:

בגדר האיסור דהריגת עוברין בישראל, שמעתי מאדמו”ר הגאב”ד ור”מ דטלז ז”ל הי”ד, שהוא מגדר בל תשחית, אשר לפי”ז כל שהוא לצורך רפואה או פגם משפחה, אין בזה גדר האיסור דהשחתה

[12] I would have thought that the Maharsha’s words could have halakhic significance, but R. Nahman Yehiel Michel Steinmetz states otherwise, noting אין לומדים הלכה מדברי הגדה. See Meshiv Nevonim, vol. 6, p. 250. See also R. Weinberg’s comments regarding the Maharsha in Seridei Esh, vol. 3, no. 126.
[13] See e.g., Siftei Maharsha: Shemot, pp. 16-17.
[14] For opinions that the prohibition against abortion is only rabbinic, see R. Yishai Yitzhak Shraga, Torat ha-Ubar (Jerusalem, 2017), pp. 72ff.
[15] Ohalei Yaakov: Shemot, p. 1.
[16] See R. Eliezer Waldenberg, Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 9, p. 231, vol. 14, p. 184.
[17] Iggerot Moshe, Hoshen Mishpat 2, p. 295. There are a couple of strange things in this responsum, which first appeared in the R. Yehezkel Abramsky Memorial Volume. For example, see p. 298 how R. Moshe describes R. Joseph Hayyim’s responsum in Rav Pealim. (The word שהחכם in the bottom line right column should be שהתחכם, as it appears in the R. Abramsky Memorial Volume.) Yet as R. Waldenberg points out, Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 14, p. 186, R. Moshe’s summary of Rav Pealim is inaccurate and he also does not show much regard for R. Joseph Hayyim, leading R. Waldenberg to write: והוא פלאי, ושרי ליה מריה בזה. See Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 14, p. 186. (R. Moshe actually ends his own responsum by saying ושרי ליה מריה בזה about R. Waldenberg.)

R. David M. Feldman wrote to R. Waldenberg that R. Moshe did not write the responsum on abortion, and that could explain what he saw as various problems in this responsum. SeeTzitz Eliezer, vol. 20, p. 140.

I find this approach completely untenable, although in conversation with me R. Feldman insisted on it. Some might suggest that others were involved in writing the responsum, and that explains the passage dealing with Rav Pealim. I find this impossible to accept, and would prefer to assume that at least with regard to the inaccurate Rav Pealim description, that R. Moshe did not have the text in front of him and was citing from memory from what had earlier been shown to him. As such, it is easy to imagine how he could have forgotten the details, as we have all had similar experiences. For more on this responsum, see my post here.
[18] Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 14, p. 183.
[19] See R. Zvi Ryzman, Ratz ke-Tzvi, vol. 2, p. 295.
[20] Tehumin 37 (2017), p. 124.
[21] Refuah, Metziut, ve-Halakhah, p. 28.
[22] “Ha-Im Muteret ‘Hamatat Hesed’ al Yedei Amirah le-Goy,” Ha-Ma’yan 62 (Tamuz 5782), pp. 54-64.
[23] Iggerot Moshe, Hoshen Mishpat 2, p. 313.
[24] Ginat Egoz, p. 74.
[25] R. Yosef Aryeh Lorintz, Mishnat Pikuah Nefesh, p. 26.
[26] The pictures in this post are now kept at Ganzach Kiddush Hashem in Bnei Brak.
[27] All the big rabbis stayed and ate at the Silberhorn hotel, and yet until 1975 it had no hashgachah. People knew the family that owned it to be absolutely reliable in matters of kashrut, and like the other kosher hotels in Switzerland, the kashrut was trusted without any hashgachah. In 1974 the Swiss rabbinate informed the various kosher hotels that they would need to acquire a hashgachah, thus ending the era of religious owners’ kashrut being trusted without any outside supervision. (Thanks to Dr. Joshua Sternbuch who passed on this information from the family who owned the Silberhorn hotel.)

Regarding the pious practice of eating eggs at seudah shelishit, see Kaf ha-Hayyim 289:12.

The Ghetto Library and Daily Life Under the Nazis

In giving the public this opportunity to learn more about the spiritual resistance of the Vilna Ghetto, we seek to immortalize the moral heroism of the victims of the Holocaust. And bring to light the phenomenon of the vitality and endurance of the Jewish people – throughout their long existence, laden with suffering and restrictions, it has forced them not to give up but to seek the means of self-expression and foster their traditions and culture no matter what adversity they faced.
Jevgenija Biber, “To the Reader,” Vilna Ghetto Posters

During the Holocaust, resistance took on many forms. In some instances, it was armed resistance, such as in the Warsaw ghetto and the Vilna ghetto uprisings. Other types were religious or spiritual, such as Jews performing mitzvahs or studying Torah in the most horrific situations and, for example, refusing to eat on Yom Kippur in concentration camps where their food rations were already placing them at risk of starvation. However, there is another type, and that was refusing to allow the Nazis to control everyday life. After the Soviets re-entered Vilna in 1944, among the few survivors, some began collecting whatever documents and other materials that they could regarding Jewish life before the war. Eventually, this would form the core collection of a short-lived Jewish Museum. The museum operated until 1948 when the Soviet-controlled government confiscated all the materials and dumped them into a repurposed church. It would be decades before they were placed in more appropriate locations. A portion of those documents went to the Lithuanian Central State Archives. 

Among those in the Archive are posters and broadsides from the Vilna Ghetto period. These are evidence of continuing daily life even after there had been massive deportations and murders of Jews. Nonetheless, when the opportunity presented itself, whether for intellectual events, concerts, or even sports, the Jews ferociously fought to continue to live their lives. 2005, the Vilna Gaon Jewish State Museum in Vilnius published some of these Vilna Ghetto Posters, compiled by Jevgenija Biber, Rocha Kostanian, and Judita Rozina. (Unfortunately, as far as we know, the book is only available at the Museum’s bookstore in Vilnius.)

For example, one poster announces a basketball tournament that includes men, women, and seniors. Another announces the opening of the Jewish ghetto theater, whereas others announce specific plays and other cultural events, such as a night commemorating Haim Nahum Bialik. The theater hall also housed Yom Kippur services in 1942.

On the intellectual side, there were lectures on Jewish history, one on the zugos, and the pairs of Rabbis in the Mishna. Another was an announcement of sermons delivered on the Yom Tefillah that was declared in February 1942.

One of the most astounding documents was an announcement that on Sunday, December 13, 1942, at noon, a “Celebration of one hundred thousand books loaned by the Ghetto library” since it opened in September 1941. The ghetto library was in the former Mefitsei Haskalah Library. That library was among the three largest in Vilna. The other two, the Strashun Library and the YIVO Library were closed by the Nazis. This was nearly the same circulation numbers, 90,000 yearly, as before the Nazi invasion and ghettoization of the Vilna’s Jews. Most recently, in the portion of the pre-war documents now at the Judaica Centre at the Lithuanian National Library, a reader’s library card was discovered that slightly pre-dates the formation of the ghetto library. This card, from February 21, 1941, provides the library’s rules, including an admonishment not to leave the books in rain or snow, how to calculate due dates, and fines for overdue books.  

In addition to the poster is a highly detailed description of the library and its operations that survived the Holocaust. In October 1942, Kruk published “The Library and Reading Room in the Vilna Ghetto, Strashun Street.” The document was originally in Yiddish (and the original is at the YIVO Institute in New York, available here), but Zachary Baker translated it into English and added notes. (See Herman Kruk, “Library and Reading Room in the Vilna Ghetto, Strashun Street 6,” translated by Zachary Baker, in The Holocaust and the Book, Destruction and Preservation, ed. Jonathan Rose, University of Massachusetts Press, 2001, 171-200). 

Kruk provides a prehistory and then specifically recounts the library’s activities since it reopened in September 1941. Among other details, before the war, there were 2,000 subscribers, and in 1940-41, with the influx of Jews from all over Eastern Europe, that number doubled. By September 1941, there were 4,700 subscribers. Men and women were represented almost equally, although women had a slight advantage. The fact that the library reached 100,000 books by December is especially remarkable, in that it was closed for several months as it was too cold to operate. 

Kruk notes significant changes in subject matter and books during this period. For example, there was a 600% increase in readership for War and Peace, and books on war, such as All is Quiet on the Western Front and Emile Zola’s War, were also in high demand. The library’s readers of history were focused on books regarding the Crusades and other martyrdom literature. However, there have been significant changes to the library since before the war. Most notably, 15-30-year-olds made up the bulk of readers during the pre-war period, while in 1942, that number had dropped precipitously. Kruk explains that age groups bearing the brunt of forced labor were too tired to contemplate reading at the end of an exhausting day. 

Kruk summarizes the popularity of libraries and readings, even in the face of death: “A human being can endure hunger, poverty, pain, and suffering, but he cannot tolerate isolation. Then, more than in normal times, the attraction of books and reading is almost indescribable.”