Conservative Conversions, Some Grammatical Points, and a Newly Published Section of a Letter from R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik

Conservative Conversions, Some Grammatical Points, and a Newly Published Section of a Letter from R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik

Marc B. Shapiro

1. Since I mentioned R. Ovadiah Hoffman in the last post, I would be remiss in not noting that he and his brother, R. Yissachar Dov, recently published volume 4 of Ha-Mashbir, devoted to R. Ovadiah Yosef. It can be purchased here.

The volume contains a previously unpublished letter by R. Ovadiah Yosef that I provided, dealing with a rabbi who improperly converted people. It also contains a number of other noteworthy sections, such as R. Ovadiah’s notes to R. Ben Zion Uziel’s Mishpetei Uziel, talmudic notes from R. Uziel published from manuscript, R. Meir Mazuz’s notes to R. Ovadiah’s Yehaveh Da’at, and many valuable articles by contemporary Torah scholars, including the editors. Of particular interest to me was R. Yissachar Dov Hoffman’s article on the practice of a number of great Torah sages of prior generations not to kiss their children. Such a practice is so much against the contemporary mindset of what is regarded as healthy that, as R. Hoffman notes, even a Satmar rabbi, R. Israel David Harfenes, has stated that “in our time it is forbidden to follow this path” (p. 293).

Apropos of the above-mentioned responsum on conversion by R. Ovadiah Yosef, in Beit Hillel, Adar 5770, R. Yisrael Meir Yonah deals with a conversion done by a Conservative beit din. He rules that in this particular case the conversion is valid. This ruling was affirmed by R. Ovadiah.In his responsum, R. Yonah states that R. Moses Feinstein regarded Conservative conversions as doubtful conversions rather than completely invalid, and brought two supposed proofs for this. I responded to R. Yonah in Beit Hillel 43 (Heshvan 5770), and you can see my letter here.[1]

To his credit, R. Yonah acknowledged that he was mistaken in his reading of R. Feinstein’s responsum.[2] It is also the case, as I mention in my letter, that it is possible that a conversion done by a Conservative rabbi, especially from years ago, could be halakhically valid. R. Feinstein himself, who wrote very strongly against Conservative conversions, also writes about such a conversion: כמעט ברור שאין עושין הגרות כדין. The word כמעט shows us that even R. Moshe recognized that there are times when a Conservative conversion can be halakhically valid. In Mesorat Moshe, vol. 1, p. 327, we see as well that R. Moshe acknowledged the possibility that a Conservative conversion could be valid:

אולי יש להסתפק דאפשר לא היו ב”ד של פסולים, דיש אנשים, בעצם דתיים ומאמינים, שמחמת דוחק פרנסה מקבלים משרה כרבנים אצלם, ואפילו אם למדו בסמינר שלהם, אולי בעצמו כן מאמין. ולפיכך למעשה, אם זה אפשר לברר, תבררו. ואם קשה לברר, אז אולי שייך להגיד השערה, שאם זה בכפר או עיר רחוק מעיקר ישוב היהדות הדתי מסתמא אין להסתפק, בוודאי אינו כלום. ואם זה בעיר שיש בו ישוב דתי, נו, אזי כן יש ספק.

I also know someone who offers eyewitness testimony that R. Moshe did not think that every Conservative conversion could be voided without investigation, especially as this would mean that women married to these converts would then be able to remarry without a get. R. Moshe was not willing to go this far.

Similarly, R. Ovadiah Yosef, when asked about a Conservative conversion, replied that before giving a ruling it was necessary to find out which Conservative rabbi did the conversion, “since the Conservatives are not all alike.”[3]

R. Ovadiah was also asked about a woman who had become religious and was interested in going out with a kohen for the purpose of marriage. The problem was that she had slept with a man whose mother was converted by a Conservative rabbi. This man’s family was somewhat traditional as they kept kosher, made kiddush, and lit Shabbat candles. Could the woman in question marry a kohen, which is forbidden if she had slept with a non-Jew? The answer to this question depends on the status of the man whose mother was converted by a Conservative rabbi. If the conversion was invalid then the man was also to be regarded as a non-Jew, and the woman we are discussing, who slept with this man, would be forbidden to a kohen.

R. Ovadiah replied that the woman could marry a kohen, which means that be-diavad he accepted the Conservative conversion. He gave this ruling without even seeking further knowledge about the particular rabbi who did the conversion under question, which appears to me to be an incredible leniency. In seeking to explain this ruling, R. Yehudah Naki writes, “We see that they observed some mitzvot, so be-diavad there is more room to be lenient, at least not to forbid others” (that is, to forbid the woman from marrying the kohen).[4]

As mentioned, R. Ovadiah accepted R. Yonah’s pesak that a particular conversion carried out by a Conservative beit din was valid. In this case, the daughter of a woman who had been converted wished to marry a kohen. This would only be allowed if the daughter was born Jewish, meaning that everything depended on the status of her mother’s conversion. Here is how R. Yonah described this particular Conservative beit din.[5]

ובירורים שעשינו בנ”ד התברר לנו שב”ד הזה שגיירוה, הם אנשים שנקראים וידועים כשומרי תורה ומצוות, ובעצם הם אורטודוכסים, וגם הגיור שעשו, ע”פ כל החקירות ודרישות שעשיתי, הקפידו בכל הדברים כולם, הן בטבילה, חציצה וכו’ וכו’, הן בקבלת מצות, ולימודי יהדות קודם הגיור, לא פחות ואולי יותר, מהרבה בתי דינים אחרים שנחשבים לחרדיים. וא”כ אין כל סיבה לפע”ד לפסול גיור זה.

Here is R. Ovadiah’s affirmation of R. Yonah’s pesak, from Beit Hillel, Adar 5770, p. 60.

That a Conservative conversion might be valid also appears to be assumed by R. Mordechai Eliyahu. This is what he writes in his Ma’amar Mordechai, vol. 2, Even ha-Ezer, no. 16:

ובענין הגר שנתגייר אצל הקונסרבטיבים והוא אינו שומר תורה ומצוות, והיה לכם ספק אם אפשר לכתוב שם יהודי שניתן לו, שם שלא השתמש בו מעולם, או לכתוב בן אאע”ה. נראה לי, מאחר וכל עצם נתינת הגט של אדם זה הוא לחומרא ולא מדינא, כי מי אמר שגרותו – גרות, וגיוריהם של הרבנים הקונסרבטיבים – גיור . . .

R. Eliyahu does not say that there is absolutely no reason for a get when dealing with a Conservative conversion. Rather, he refers to it as a humra. Also, note how he states, “who says that his conversion was a [valid] conversion?” This is the language of safek. He does not say, “certainly his conversion was invalid.”[6]

2. In a previous post here I mentioned a few common pronunciation mistakes in Kiddush. There is one more that I would like to mention, but it is a little more complicated than the ones I previous noted. In the Friday night kiddush we say כי הוא יום תחלה למקראי קודש. Where is one supposed to put the accent in the word למקראי? If you look at ArtScroll you find that it puts the accent on the penultimate syllable, the ר. However, Koren and most of the other siddurim I checked put the accent on the final syllable, the א.

I don’t know why this should be a matter of dispute, because the Torah itself uses the expression מקראי קודש three times (Lev. 23:2, 4, 37), and in every case the accent in מקראי is on the final syllable.[7] The Yom Tov morning kiddush also begins: אלה מועדי ה’ מקראי קודש. For some reason ArtScroll is not consistent, and in this case it puts the accent in מקראי on the א.

After my last post someone emailed me pointing out that another “common mistake” is that in Birkat ha-Mazon, in the second paragraph, people say נודה לך putting the accent on the first syllable instead of the second. In fact, the tune for Birkat ha-Mazon that American children are taught at schools around the country has the word נודה recited with the accent on the first syllable. Should we now start teaching all the children differently, so that they pronounce נודה with the accent on the second syllable which is how ArtScroll, Koren, and almost all the other siddurim have it?

Actually, this matter is not clear at all. I say this because if you open up a Tanakh to Psalms 79:13 and look at the words נודה לך you will find different versions. Some have the word נודה with the accent on the final syllable and others have the accent on the first syllable. The Aleppo Codex has the accent on the first syllable and puts a dagesh in the ל of לך. Although the practice of American children (and adults) pronouncing the word נודה with the accent on the first syllable has nothing to do with the Aleppo Codex, the fact that this pronunciation appears in such an important source means that there is no reason to change how the children are taught. However, this creates a problem because in the Amidah, in Modim, we say נודה לך ונספר תהלתך. If we are going to recite נודה of Birkat ha-Mazon with the accent on the first syllable, then we should be consistent and do the same thing in the Amidah, in ברוך ה’ לעולם in ma’ariv: נודה לך לעולם, and also in the so-called “Three-Faceted Blessing” (ברכה מעין שלש – Al ha-Mihyah): ונודה לך על הארץ.

Speaking of consistency, in Birkat ha-Mazon, the Amidah, ברוך ה’ לעולם, and the Three-Faceted Blessing, both the regular ArtScroll siddur and Koren have the accent in נודה on the final syllable. However, in the Amidah, ברוך ה’ לעולם, and the Three-Faceted-Blessing they both place a dagesh in the ל of ונודה לך and נודה לך, but do not place a dagesh in the ל of נודה לך in Birkat ha-Mazon. This makes no sense. If there is a dagesh in one there must be a dagesh in all of them. (In the Hebrew-only ArtScroll siddur they also put a dagesh in the in the ל of נודה לך in Birkat ha-Mazon.)

I think it is a mistake for ArtScroll and Koren to place a dagesh in לך in any of these instances. Since no exception with נודה לך is found in Tanakh, the only reason there would be a dagesh in לך is if the word נודה has the accent on the first syllable, as in the Aleppo Codex (and unlike what appears in ArtScroll and Koren), or if there is a makef between the two words.[8]

Regarding the word נודה, it is worth noting that in Ein Ke-loheinu there is no question that נודה is to be read with the accent on the final syllable (as the matter of where to put the accent in נודה only concerns the phrase נודה לך). Here is an example where the common tune, which puts the accent on the first syllable, cannot be defended grammatically.

I noticed two mistakes in the regular ArtScroll siddur which appear correctly in Koren. In the morning blessings we say אשר נתן לשכוי בינה. Where is the accent in the word לשכוי? ArtScroll puts the accent on the final syllable, and Koren puts the accent on the penultimate syllable, on the ש. Koren is correct as there is an explicit verse in Job 38:36: מי נתן לשכוי בינה. If you look at the trop on this verse you will find that the accent in לשכוי is on the penultimate syllable. Interestingly, in the Hebrew-only ArtScroll siddur they get this right.

The other mistake is that in Birkat ha-Mazon on Sukkot we say:

הרחמן הוא יקים לנו את סכת דויד הנופלת

ArtScroll puts a kamatz under the פ in הנופלת. Koren puts a segol and that is correct. We see this from the appearance of the word in Amos 9:11, and there is no change of vowel even on the etnahta.[9]

I also found an example where ArtScroll gets it right and Koren is mistaken. In ma’ariv, in the paragraph ואמונה כל זאת, we say העושה לנו נסים. Koren has העושה with the accent on the final syllable and the ל of לנו with a dagesh. Yet this doesn’t work. For there to be a dagesh in the ל, the prior word, העושה, has to have the accent on the penultimate syllable, which is how it appears in ArtScroll.

Another example where ArtScroll gets it right and Koren gets it wrong is in the morning blessings where we say שעשה לי כל צרכי. Koren puts the accent in שעשה on the final syllable. Yet this is a mistake, and as is correctly found in ArtScroll the accent is on the penultimate syllable, the ע.

Since I have been speaking about the ArtScroll siddur, let me add a couple of comments about the Yom Kippur Machzor. Here is how Shema Kolenu appears in my copy of the Yom Kippur Machzor (p. 596).

The instructions tell us that “the first six verses of the following prayer are recited responsively, chazzan then congregation.” The problem is that I have never seen a synagogue that says the verses beginning אמרינו and אל תעזבנו responsively. What all these synagogues do is say the following four verses responsively:

שמע קולנו

השיבנו

אל תשליכנו מלפניך

אל תשליכנו לעת זקנה

In my experience, not only does no one say the verses beginning אמרינו and אל תעזבנו responsively, but they don’t say יהיו לרצון quietly either.

The text recorded by ArtScroll is the one found in many old Ashkenazic machzorim. So when and how were אמרינו and אל תעזבנו dropped from the responsive reading, or is it that from the beginning they were not included? As for יהיו לרצון, the old machzorim do not indicate that this is said quietly, so was there ever a tradition to recite it quietly or is ArtScroll simply trying to make sense of a verse that is found in the Machzor but no longer appears to be recited? If יהיו לרצון was originally part of the public reading, we again have to ask, why was it dropped?

Recognizing the problem, in the new edition of the ArtScroll machzor they made a change.

As you can see, אל תעזבנו has now been pushed to the next paragraph. We are also instructed that both אמרינו and יהיו לרצון are to be said quietly. Yet this doesn’t seem to make any sense, as those who are reciting Shema Kolenu responsively will not be saying these verses quietly. And again, I ask, is there any real tradition that these verses are to be said quietly, or is this something made up by people in an attempt to keep the traditional text of the Machzor while dealing with the fact that these verses are not part of the responsive reading? Unfortunately, when updating the Machzor, ArtScroll did not correct the instructions which still refer to the “first six verses” as being recited responsively, when instead it should say the “following four verses”.

Here is how Koren has the prayer.

This version, which puts אמרינו and יהיו לרצון before the final verse, is also attested to in prior machzorim, though the order found in ArtScroll appears to be the older version.To sum up, I am not sure what the best path for ArtScroll would have been. On the one hand, they could have adopted the version found in Koren, which solves all the problems. Keeping what appears to be the more authentic version, which they did, also makes sense, but then they were forced to add the instructions that certain verses are to be said silently. I have checked numerous old machzorim and there is no indication that these verses are to be said silently. Was there perhaps an oral tradition in this matter? Perhaps readers can comment on this. In any event, ArtScroll’s instructions are problematic, since, as mentioned, if people are reciting the prayer responsively, they are not going to be inserting two consecutive sentences quietly.

I noticed another interesting change in the ArtScroll Yom Kippur machzor between the old edition and the new one. Here is והכהנים והעם in the old edition.

It reads היו כורעים ומשתחוים ומודים ונופלים על פניהם.

Here is the new edition, where the word ומודים has been deleted. ArtScroll neglected to change the English translation, so it still appears, now incorrectly, as: “they would kneel and prostrate themselves, give thanks, fall upon their faces.”

Why was the word ומודים deleted? Based on what I have been able to determine, the version without the word ומודים is more common, so presumably that is the reason. Although most people might just chalk this up to a different girsa, R. Soloveitchik saw great significance in the alternative versions, and explained their different implications.[10]

Here are a couple of random mistakes I found in ArtScroll. (I use the ArtScroll siddur every day of the week, which is how I have come across these. I am sure that if I used Koren, I would find mistakes there too.) In the ArtScroll siddur, p. 86 it reads:

ואל מאורי אור שעשית, יפארוך, סלה

There is a dagesh in the ס of סלה. This means that the comma after יפארוך is a mistake, as you cannot place a dagesh in this ס if preceded by a comma.

Another mistake is found on p. 702, in the prayer for dew, which states בעם זו בזו. Its translation is correct: “Among this people, through this prayer.” However, I would have preferred if it appeared as follows: “Among this people, through this [prayer],” which would be a more accurate rendition of the few words. (This is indeed how it is translated in the ArtScroll Passover Machzor.)ArtScroll vocalizes these words be-am zu be-zu. Yet this is incorrect. בזו should be pronounced be-zo, referring to תפלה, the feminine Hebrew word for prayer. Koren gets this correct. This confusion of ArtScroll with zu and zo is also found on p. 202, where in the marriage service we find בטבעת זו and ArtScroll pronounces it zu, instead of zo. Again, Koren gets it right. (The word זו often appears in the Talmud, and the ArtScroll Talmud always pronounces it correctly.)

Let me close with one final mistake in ArtScroll, or perhaps it is not a mistake; readers can decide on their own. The ArtScroll Ohel Sarah Women’s Siddur is a special siddur designed for women. On the very first page of the prayers, this siddur has מודה אני with a segol under the ד. In a women’s siddur doesn’t there need to be a kamatz under the ד so that it reads modah?

This might reflect a broader issue. My experience is that in co-ed kindergartens the girls are also taught to say modeh. This might not be surprising, but I was also told by a number of people that even in girls-only kindergartens, both Ashkenazic and even some Sephardic ones, the girls are taught to say modeh. No doubt recognizing this problem, R. Yitzhak Yosef makes a point of placing a kamatz under the ד so that people will know how women are to pronounce the word.[11] R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach likewise told the women in his family to say modah.[12]It is noteworthy that in one of the editions of Wolf Heidenheim’s Siddur Sefat Emet, found on Otzar ha-Hokhmah, girls are instructed to say modah.

However, this edition appeared after Heidenheim’s death, and unfortunately there is no way to determine exactly when. (The Basel 1956 date on the title page is just the date of the photo-offset edition, not the original.) As far as I can tell, none of the siddurim that appeared in Heidenheim’s lifetime distinguish between men and women with regard to modeh-modah.In response to questioners, R. Hayyim Kanievsky also stated that women are to pronounce the word as modah.[13] Despite this, when R. Meir Arbah asked Rebbetzin Batsheva Kanievsky, R. Hayyim’s wife, what she did, she replied that she pronounced it modeh![14]

The ArtScroll Women’s siddur also has שלא עשני גוי and not גויה and שלא עשני עבד instead of שפחה. This too would seem to be incorrect in a women’s siddur, but the standard version is defended by R. Shmuel Wosner, as he claims that the words גוי and עבד include both men and women.[15] More about this in the next post.

3. We all know that everything written by R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik is precious.[16] One area in which the Rav was very eloquent and forceful was with regard to the necessity of having a mehitzah in shul. In Baruch Litvin’s 1959 book, The Sanctity of the Synagogue, pp. 109-114, it prints a letter from the Rav to an RCA convention.

This letter has been reprinted in Nathaniel Helfgot, Community, Covenant and Commitment, pp. 139-142.

Moshe Schwartz found a copy of the original letter in the papers of his grandfather, R. Gedaliah Dov Schwartz. I thank him for sending it to me.

One interesting point which is not found in the Litvin book is that the Rav’s letter, while intended for RCA members, was addressed to R. David Hollander, the president of the RCA at the time. This is important to note because in the second paragraph he is speaking personally to R. Hollander and praising him for his good works. However, the reader of the letter in Litvin’s book will mistakenly think that the Rav is speaking to the RCA as a whole.

Furthermore, some of what R. Soloveitchik included was deleted from the letter as it appeared in the Litvin book. This was apparently because his points were not specifically relevant to the mehitzah issue. I am happy to be able to present here the omitted words of the Rav which until now have never been published, and which present an important personal statement about the halakhic process. Readers should note the end of the second paragraph that is transcribed below, as it is criticism of certain members of the RCA. Similar sentiments are found earlier in the letter (Litvin, p. 110, first paragraph), where the Rav concludes his paragraph with the strong words: “However, many of our colleagues choose the derech ketzarah va’aruchah, the easy way which leads to doom and destruction.”

As chairman of the Vaad Halachah I intended to inform the conference about our activities during the past year. Since I am prevented from doing so I have asked my friend Rabbi Joseph Weiss to take my place.

Permit me to say the following. One of the fundamentals of my faith is that the Halachah is an all-inclusive discipline and system of thought capable of meeting any challenge of modern times and of confronting the most perplexing problems which a technically progressive and scientifically minded society may periodically pose. This optimistic formula, however, cannot always be successfully applied because of the limited knowledge and the imperfect intellectual capability of the human being. I for one, am not always able to behold the Halachic truth and to see the light under all circumstances. Many a time I grope in the dark, pondering, examining and re-examining an intricate Halachic problem – and find myself unable to arrive at a clear decision. Even the Talmud has not solved all problems and has not answered all questions. The Teiku is a very prominent and characteristic feature of Torah She-B’al Peh. We members of the Halachah Commission are not partners in a contracting firm whose task it is to provide every member of the Rabbinical Council of America with a clear-cut answer to his problems. Quite often the solution eludes us. We are beset by grave doubts. We face many alternatives not knowing which to choose since each is supported by sound logical reasoning. We cannot be guided in our decisions by emotional factors or pragmatic arbitrariness and hence we are impelled to employ in such situations the principle of “B’divrai Torah Haloch Achar Hamachmir” which seems to inconvenience some of our members.

Religious Jews have of late developed an intolerant attitude towards what they call the shyness and reluctance on the part of scholars to commit themselves on Halachic issues, not knowing that there is no omniscience in this world and that doubt is an integral part of the Halachic experience as it is of every scientific performance. A rabbi who thinks that he can solve all problems is implicitly admitting his own ignorance. I implore the convention to abstain from leveling charges of evasion at the Halachah Commission. Let us not repeat the complaints which are so common in religious circles in Israel about a lack of boldness on the part of the rabbinate. They come, for the most part, from people who are not conversant with Halachic scholarship. If there is in our ranks some one wise enough to undertake to answer all Halachic questions by return mail, I would not hesitate to relinquish my position as chairman to him.

In the last paragraph of the letter, as it appears in Litvin, p. 114, the following words that I have underlined are omitted (and this appears to be a simple mistake rather than an intentional deletion): “I realize your problems, I am cognizant of the temptations to which you are exposed and I also know the great work you have been doing in the remote parts of our country.”

In this case I think that the Rav is speaking to the RCA members as a whole, not to R. Hollander personally.

The P.S. found in the Rav’s letter is also of interest.

P.S., I would suggest that the convention adopt a resolution condemning the Humphrey Bill pertaining to humane method of slaughter. The convention should also send a letter of thanks to the State Department for the special attention of Assistant Secretary Herbert Hoover, Jr., for its stand against the proposed calendar reform.

4. In my previous post about young rabbis I neglected to mention another such rabbi. R. Yekutiel Yehudah Teitelbaum (born 1912) succeeded his father as rabbi of the town of Sighet, and also as leader of the local hasidic group, at the age of 14.[17]

5. In addition to being the posek of the OU, R. Hershel Schachter is also the one Kashrut Vaads all over America turn to for halakhic decisions. That being the case, now that R. Schachter has publicly declared that swordfish is kosher[18] (his private opinion has been known for a long time), how come no Vaads in the United States will certify it as kosher? (In the first half of the twentieth century Orthodox Jews in the U.S. ate swordfish. See my post here.) Does this mean that in the U.S. the practice of not eating swordfish is for all intents and purposes now regarded as binding, and cannot be overturned even by a great posek?

6. Last summer I spent time in Djerba, Tunisia. I hope to write up my impressions of this amazing community of over one thousand Jews, all of whom are shomer Shabbat. Djerba, and the nearby town of Zarzis which has around a hundred Jews, are the last Arabic speaking Jewish communities in the world. (In Tunis and Morocco the Jews speak French.) Here are some pictures from inside the R. Pinhas Yanah synagogue in Djerba, where you can see the signs in Arabic.

Here is a small learning group in one of the synagogues after ma’ariv. They invited me to participate but not knowing Arabic I couldn’t follow.

When I came back one of my friends told me that I must share one particular story on the Seforim Blog, so here goes. There are fourteen different synagogues in Djerba. After visiting a number of them I noticed that they had no women’s sections. I asked one of the rabbis about the lack of ezrat nashim. He replied, in words that must sound blasphemous to Modern Orthodox ears, “What do women have to do with a synagogue?” While in the U.S. we build “women friendly” mehitzot, so that as much as possible the women can feel part of the synagogue service, in Djerba women’s spirituality has nothing to do with the synagogue. While I later learned that three of the synagogues do have an ezrat nashim, women never attend on Shabbat, only on Rosh ha-Shanah, Yom Kippur, and Purim. The popular Modern Orthodox notion that it is important for women, especially unmarried ones, to attend synagogue on Shabbat is something the women of Djerba know nothing about.

___________

[1] If I were writing the letter today, I would not refer to R. Ahron Soloveichik as rosh ha-rabanim and mara de-atra. I did so to give him respect, but it is not really accurate. While many people certainly did regard him as the leading rabbi of Chicago, and accepted his halakhic rulings as authoritative, this was by no means everyone’s opinion. Regarding R. Moshe Feinstein’s view permitting the non-Orthodox to use the community mikveh for their conversions, which is mentioned in my letter, it is important to note that this was only when the non-Orthodox institutions contributed to building the mikveh.

[2] The same mistake made by R. Yonah is also made by R. Yehudah Naki in his notes to R. Ovadiah Yosef, Ma’yan Omer, vol. 7, pp. 362-363, 390, 400-401.

[3] Ma’yan Omer, vol. 7, no. 38.

[4] Ma’yan Omer, vol. 7, no. 42.

[5] Beit Hillel, Adar 5770, p.

[6] R. Eliyahu’s responsum was sent to R. Gavriel Cohen, who has a beit din in Los Angeles. See here. This Beit Din also does conversions, and they have a very detailed curriculum for prospective converts. You can see a practice test of the 45 topics prospective converts are supposed to learn about here.

I have to say that until the last generation, converts were never required to have such detailed knowledge. Leaving aside all of the detailed issues of Jewish law the convert is instructed to learn about (including “Trumot and Maasarot, Challah, Bikurim, Maaser Ani and other types of charity”), does a convert really need to know about Elijah at Mt. Carmel or about “Tzedukim, Prushim, Charedim, Zealots (anti Romans and Greeks)”? Does a convert need to be able to “develop in detail” the following: Joshua, Judges (“mention at least 10 Judges and their stories”), Samuel, Saul, Jonathan, Isaiah, Jeremiah, the Twelve Prophets, Daniel, Ezra-Nehemiah, to list just some of the topics required? And what about Rif, Rosh, Rashba, Tur, Zohar, Kabbalah, Shabbetai Zvi, Orhot Tzadikim, Mesilat Yesharim, etc.? Since when do converts need to know about these things?

In the section dealing with the history of converts, R. Cohen’s website mentions Nero and Antoninus as things to know. Does this mean that if the future convert does not believe that these Roman emperors actually converted to Judaism, that he will not be accepted? (My next post will discuss Nero and Antoninus.) On the positive side, if even yeshiva educated people knew all the things the converts are being asked about, we would be in very good shape.

Contrast all this with how Maimonides says that we deal with future converts, in words that today would be regarded as “non-Orthodox,” or presenting a very low standard. Issurei Biah 14:2 states: “He [the prospective convert] should then be made acquainted with the principles of the faith, which are the oneness of God and the prohibition of idolatry. These matters should be discussed in great detail; he should then be told, though not at great length, about some of the less weighty and some of the more weighty commandments.”

[7] See also here.

[8] See Israel Yeivin, Introduction to the Tiberian Masorah, trans. E. J. Revell (n.p., 1980), no. 404. See also R. Adir Amrutzi, Dikdukei Aviah (Tel Aviv, 2010), p. 146. Regarding the Aleppo Codex and use of the dagesh, the following point is also of interest. Many people wonder why in Hallel the words הושיעה נא and הצליחה נא, taken from Ps. 118:25, only have a dagesh in the נ in הושיעה נא. In fact, in the Aleppo Codex both occurrences of the word נא have a dagesh. Also of interest, since it goes against what one would expect from the grammatical rules, the Aleppo Codex puts the accent on the final syllable of both הושיעה and הצליחה, and there is no makef after either of these words. See Yeivin, Introduction to the Tiberian Masorah, p. 291.

Regarding the makef, ArtScroll has omitted it from its siddur. Yet once they do so, it appears to me that there are a number of corrections that need to be made. For example, in shaharit of Shabbat we read

מי ידמה לך ומי ישוה לך

ArtScroll tells us that ידמה and ישוה have the accent on the final syllable and ArtScroll also puts a dagesh in the ל of לך. Yet the Masoretes who told us that in such a case you put a dagesh in the ל, also told us that you would only do so if there is a makef connecting the word לך and the prior word. Since ArtScroll has deleted the makef, why should the dagesh be included, as there is no reason for one without the other? (Koren also includes the dagesh without a makef.)

For those who want to be technical, once the makef is removed we even have a problem with the word כל. כל, meaning “all”, is only spelled with a kamatz (katan) when it is connected with a makef. However, when the makef is removed it is to be spelled with a holem. (The two exceptions are Ps. 35:10 and Prov. 19:7.) See Bayit Ne’eman 130 (15 Tishrei 5779), p. 5.

In biblical Hebrew there is even a word כל with a kamatz (gadol) and no makef. It is found in Isaiah 40:12:

וכל בשלש עפר הארץ

The passage means, “and comprehended the dust of the earth in a shalish-measure.” The word כל with a kamatz and no makef is from the root כול. The word כל with a kamatz and makef, which is the word we are all familiar with, is from the root כלל.

[9] This point was also noted by the Dikdukian here. For those who don’t know this website, it is a great resource for anyone interested in grammatical matters.

[10] Shiurei Ha-Grid: Kuntres Avodat Yom ha-Kippurim (Jerusalem, 2005), pp. 66-67.

[11] Otzar Dinim la-Ishah ve-la-Bat, ch. 1, no. 2 (p. 22), Yalkut Yosef, Dinei Hashkamat ha-Boker, 1:9. It is noteworthy that R. Yom Tov Lippman Heller was also interested in ensuring proper pronunciation. Mishnah, Toharot 8:5 reads: שוטה אחת בעיר. Tosafot Yom Tov comments:

בקמץ הטי”ת כמו כי רועה היא (בראשית כט)

[12] Halikhot Shlomo, Tefilah, ch. 2 n. 17.

[13] Halikhot Hayyim, ch. 1 no. 1, Da’at Notah, vol. 1, p. 16. The very title of the last book mentioned is an example of what we are talking about, as it is more common for people to write “da’at noteh”, but this is not grammatical.

[14] Meir Oz, vol. 1, p. 27.

[15] Shevet ha-Levi, vol. 10, no. 8.

[16] I have been fortunate to discover a number of unknown letters by the Rav which I hope to publish.

[17] See Isaac Lewin, ed., Eleh Ezkerah (New York, 1961), vol. 4, p. 147. R. Jacob Elimelech Paneth was chosen to succeed his father as rabbi of Marosújvár at age fourteen, but he did not assume the office in practice until four or five years later. See Yosef Kohen, Hakhmei Transylvania (Jerusalem, 1989), p. 37. I thank R. Baruch Oberlander for informing me of the Hungarian name of the city R. Paneth served in.

[18] The interview with R. Schachter reprinted in this post is from the Jewish Press, April 20, 2018.

Young Rabbis and All About Olives

Young Rabbis and All About Olives

Marc B. Shapiro

I am currently working on a book focused on the thought of R. Kook, in particular his newly released publications. A book recently appeared titled Siah ha-Re’iyah, by R. David Gavrieli and R. Menahem Weitzman. It discusses a number of important letters of R. Kook. In addition to the analysis of the letters, each of the letters is printed with explanatory words that make them easier to understand. We are also given biographical details about the recipients of R. Kook’s letters. Here is the title page.

In reading the book, I once again found myself asking the question, how can intelligent people sometimes say nonsensical things? On p. 252 the book states that R. Menahem Mendel Cohen studied in yeshivot in Tiberias and Safed, and was appointed as chief rabbi of the Ashkenazic community of Cairo in 1896 when he was only ten years old!

How is it possible for anyone to write such a sentence, that a ten-year-old was appointed as a communal rabbi? Let me explain what happened here, but first, I must note that the name of the man we are referring to is not R. Menahem Mendel Cohen, but R. Aaron Mendel Cohen. Here is his picture, which comes from a very nice Hebrew Wikipedia article on him.

As for R. Cohen being appointed rabbi at age ten, whoever prepared the biographical introduction must have had a source which mistakenly stated that R. Cohen was born in 1886. Since this source also said that he became rabbi in Cairo in 1896, this means that he was ten years old was he was appointed rabbi. Yet we can only wonder how the authors did not see the obvious impossibility of a ten-year-old being appointed rabbi of Cairo, which should have led them to investigate a little further. Simply by googling R. Cohen’s name in Hebrew, the Wikipedia article will come up, and it tells us that R. Cohen was born not in 1886 but in 1866. Thus, instead of a ten-year-old rabbi he is now thirty years old.

With regard to young rabbis, let me repeat, with some slight edits, something I wrote in an earlier post here.

In terms of young achievers in the Lithuanian Torah world, I wonder how many have ever heard of R. Meir Shafit. He lived in the nineteenth century and wrote Sefer Nir, a commentary on the Jerusalem Talmud, when not many were studying it. Here is the title page of one of the volumes, where it tells us that he became rav of a community at the age of fifteen.

The Hazon Ish once remarked that the young Rabbi Shafit would mischievously throw pillows at his gabbaim![1]

Regarding R. Jacob Schorr [mentioned earlier in the original post] being a childhood genius, this letter from him to R. Shlomo Kluger appeared in Moriah, Av 5767.

As you can see, the letter was written in 1860 (although I can’t make out what the handwriting says after תר”ך). We are informed, correctly, that R. Schorr was born in 1853, which would mean that he was seven years old when he wrote the letter. This, I believe, would make him the greatest child genius in Jewish history, as I don’t think the Vilna Gaon could even write like this at age seven. Furthermore, if you read the letter you see that two years prior to this R. Schorr had also written to R. Kluger. Are there any other examples of a five-year-old writing Torah letters to one of the gedolei ha-dor? From the letter we also see that the seven-year-old Schorr was also the rav of the town of Mariampol! (The Mariampol in Galicia, not Lithuania.) I would have thought that this merited some mention by the person publishing this letter. After all, R. Schorr would be the only seven-year-old communal rav in history, and this letter would be the only evidence that he ever served as rav in this town. Unfortunately, the man who published this document and the editor of the journal are entirely oblivious to what, on the face of things, must be one of the most fascinating letters in all of Jewish history.

Yet all that I have written assumes that the letter was actually written by R. Schorr. Once again, we must thank R. Yaakov Hayyim Sofer for setting the record straight. In his recently published Shuvi ha-Shulamit (Jerusalem, 2009), vol. 7, p. 101, he calls attention to the error and points out, citing Wunder, Meorei Galicia, that the rav of Mariampol, Galicia was another man entirely, who was also named Jacob Schorr.

This is what I wrote in the prior post. Let me now add some additional information about R. Shafit, the fifteen-year-old communal rav. The first thing I want to point out relates to the city in which R. Shafit became rav at age fifteen. If you look at the title page you can see that its name is מיצד. This is actually an alternate way of spelling the city which is better known as מייצ’ט. Anyone who knows their Lithuanian rabbinic history will recognize this city as Meitchet (Molchad in English), made famous by the great R. Solomon Polachek, known as the Meitcheter Iluy. (R. Polachek was not actually born in Meitchet, but in a small town nearby.) There is so much to say about R. Polachek, but it will have to wait for a future post.

Returning to R. Shafit, although he is hardly a household name, in his day he was actually quite a well-known rabbi. He contributed to R. Israel Salanter’s journal Tevunah,[2] and those who study the Jerusalem Talmud know that his commentary is a very important work.[3] R. Adin Steinsaltz, who is from R. Shafit’s family, even took time away from his own work on the Talmud to publish from manuscript a commentary of R. Shafit on the Jerusalem Talmud. Here is the volume that appeared in 1979.

In the preface, R. Steinsaltz writes:

כל החכמים הלומדים בירושלמי בכל השיטות, למן חכמי בית המדרש נוסח ליטא העתיקה עד לאנשי המדע המובהקים, כולם כאחד הודו שפירוש “הניר” הוא מחשובי הפירושים שנכתבו אי פעם על התלמוד הירושלמי

I do not need go into more detail on R. Shafit since in 2014 Hillel Rotenberg published an entire book on him.[4] And while it is true that, as mentioned already, R. Shafit is not a household name, there are today people who celebrate his hillula. See here. In case you are wondering what a Lithuanian rabbi is doing with a hillula, R. Shafit was actually a Slonimer Hasid.

In response to my earlier comments about the young R. Shafit, Seforim Blog contributor R. Ovadiah Hoffman sent me another example of a young rabbi: Avigdor Aptowitzer. Aptowitzer, who was one of the twentieth-century’s leading academic scholars of rabbinic literature, is best known as the editor of R. Eliezer ben Joel Halevi’s halakhic work Ra’avyah, concerning which he published another important volume as an introduction to the Ra’avyah, and a book called Hosafot ve-Tikunim le-Sefer Ra’avyah (Jerusalem, 1936).

According to Abraham Meir Habermann, when Aptowitzer was around seven years old his father, the rabbi of Tarnopol, became ill. Young Avigdor took the place of his father as rabbi. During the week he taught students and on Shabbat people carried him to the synagogue so that he could deliver the derashah.[5] As far as I know, this makes Aptowitzer the youngest person ever to serve as a communal rabbi, even though he was never officially appointed to the position.

It is also reported that R. Shimon Sofer, the son of R. Abraham Samuel Sofer (the Ketav Sofer), was so learned as a child that he received the title חבר from R. Judah Aszod when he was only nine years old.[6]

In speaking about young rabbis, it is also important to mention a passage in R. David Abudarham’s[7] commentary on the Haggadah, s.v. אמר רבי אלעזר הרי אני כבן שבעים שנה. Abudarham cites the Jerusalem Talmud, Berakhot 4:1, that R. Elazar ben Azariah was appointed nasi of the Sanhedrin at age 13. Our version of the Jerusalem Talmud has “age 16”, but the version cited by Abudarham appears in other early sources.[8]

Regarding age 16, R. Solomon Ibn Gabirol wrote his azharot for Shavuot when he was that old. At the beginning of the azharot he wrote (with great self-confidence, I might add):[9]

והנני בשש עשרה שנותי ובי שכל כמו בן השמונים

Avodah Zarah 56b tells about a child who learned Tractate Avodah Zarah when he was six years old. The Talmud describes how he was asked halakhic questions on the tractate, and his replies apparently signify that he was deciding halakhic matters at the age of six.

He was asked, ‘May [an Israelite] tread grapes together with a heathen in a press?’ He replied, ‘It is lawful to tread grapes together with a heathen in a press.’ [To the objection] ‘But he renders it yein nesekh [10] by [the touch of] his hands!’ [he answered], ‘We tie his hands up.’ [To the further objection] ‘But he renders it yein nesekh by [the touch of] his feet!’ [he answered], ‘Wine touched by the feet is not called nesekh.’

Although not an example of a child rabbi, I think it is worthwhile to mention R. Jacob Berab’s statement that when he was only eighteen years old, and did not yet have a beard, he was the rabbi and halakhic authority for a community of 5000 families in Fez.[11]

Returning to Aptowitzer, R. Meir Mazuz directs a comment at him in a recent issue of his weekly Bayit Ne’eman.[12] In discussing the proper size of a kezayit, R. Mazuz notes that the Ashkenazic rishonim did not have any personal knowledge of olives, and thus did not know how big they were.[13] He cites R. Eliezer ben Joel Halevi, the Ra’avyah, who writes as follows:[14]

וכל היכא שצריך כזית צריך שיהיה מאכל בהרווחה, לפי שאין אנו בקיאין בשיעור זית כדי, שלא תהיה ברכה לבטלה

You cannot get any clearer than this that R. Eliezer, who lived throughout Germany, had no idea how big an olive was.[15] Yet in Aptowitzer’s note to the words לפי שאין אנו בקיאין בשיעור זית, he writes:

כלו’ אלא ע”י מדידה וחשבון, וכאן שבברכה אחרונה אנו עסוקין וכבר אכל ואי אפשר לחשוב ולמדוד, לכן יזהר שיאכל מתחילה שיעור גדול שאין להסתפק בו שהוא כזית

He explains the Ra’avyah to be saying that we do not know how large our portion of food is without measuring it. Since we are dealing with the final blessing and the food is already eaten and thus can no longer be measured, people should eat enough so that there is no doubt that they ate an olive’s worth and thus no problem with a berakhah le-vatalah.

It is hard to understand how Aptowitzer could have written something so obviously incorrect, as there is no doubt as to the passage’s meaning. R. Mazuz writes:

איזה “חכם”, שנכון שאחרי שכבר אכל את הזית לא יכול למדוד, אבל לפני שאכל הוא רואה את הגודל אז למה צריך לאכול בהרווחה?! אלא לא היו מכירים את הזיתים

Here is something else relevant to Aptowitzer. Nahmanides, Commentary to Genesis 31:35, writes (Chavel translation):

The correct interpretation appears to me to be that in ancient days menstruants kept very isolated for they were ever referred to as niddoth on account of their isolation since they did not approach people and did not speak to them. For the ancients in their wisdom knew that their breath is harmful, their gaze is detrimental and makes a bad impression, as the philosophers have explained. I will yet mention their experiences in this matter. And the menstruants dwelled isolated in tents where no one entered, just as our Rabbis have mentioned in the Beraitha of Tractate Niddah: “A learned man is forbidden to greet a menstruant. Rabbi Nechemyah says, ‘even the utterance of her mouth is unclean.’ Said Rabbi Yochanan: ‘One is forbidden to walk after a menstruant and tread upon her footsteps, which are as unclean as a corpse; so is the dust upon which the menstruant stepped unclean, and it is forbidden to derive any benefit from her work.’”

Baraita de-Masekhet Niddah is a strange work, with all sorts of extreme statements not found in mainstream rabbinic literature. This is not the place to review in any detail the various scholarly views about the text’s origin.[16] Suffice it to say that Saul Lieberman thought that the author was a sectarian, but not a Karaite.[17] Aptowitzer, however, took issue with Lieberman and argued that Baraita de-Masekhet Niddah is a Karaite forgery designed to insert Karaite views into the Rabbanite community, and also to make the Sages look like fools. As an example of the latter, Aptowitzer quoted the “halakhah” recorded in Baraita de-Masekhet Niddah that a kohen whose family member – by which it means one he lives with – is a niddah cannot offer a sacrifice or perform birkat kohanim.[18] Aptowitzer concluded that it is “very unfortunate” that some rishonim were misled by this forgery, thinking it an authentic work.[19]

Aptowitzer’s work, Mehkarim be-Sifrut ha-Geonim, in which he expressed this judgment, was published by Mossad ha-Rav Kook. R. Hayyim Dov Chavel also published his commentary on Nahmanides with Mossad ha-Rav Kook, and on the just-mentioned passage of Nahmanides to Genesis 31:35, R. Chavel quotes Aptowitzer’s view.

It is easy to see why, from a traditional perspective, what Aptowitzer said is problematic. After all, he posits that Nahmanides, one of the greatest of the medieval sages, was taken in by a heretic’s forgery. His apology, as it were, that Nahmanides and other medieval sages were not critical scholars, and thus it is not a cause for wonder that they were fooled in this matter, is not the sort of thing that will be seen as respectful in traditional circles. It is one thing to write about more recent sages being fooled by Besamim Rosh and the Yerushalmi on Kodashim, but when dealing with a figure like Nahmanides such a position is bound to be more controversial.

This is exactly what happened, and R. Chavel must have been subjected to criticism for citing Aptowitzer in this matter. In the second edition of his commentary, vol. 1, p. 554, R. Chavel backtracks from what he wrote. Had he been able to reset the type and delete the entire note from the text of the commentary I am sure he would have done so. However, he had to settle for a comment in the hashmatot u-miluim, which most people never bother to look at. He writes as follows:

על דעת בקורתית זו יש להוסיף: אף כי חכם גדול היה ר’ אביגדור אפטוביצר, ונאמן רוח לתורה ולחכמה, נתפס כאן לסברה בעלמא, שלא שזפה עינו החדה כי הברייתא הזאת (ברייתא דמסכת נידה) היא עדות מוכחת עד כמה גידרו קדמונינו עצמם להתרחק מטומאת הנדה. כטומאת הנדה היתה דרכם לפני (יחזקאל לו, יח). ואף שלא היו הדורות נוהגים למעשה בכל החומרות הנזכרות בברייתא זו, הלא כבר כתב ה”חתם סופר” [או”ח סי’ כג] שאולי נשתנו הטבעים והמקומות, או כיון שדשו בה רבים שומר פתאים ה

As readers can see, R. Chavel’s point is completely dogmatic without any scholarly argument.

Returning to Nahmanides’ comment to Genesis 31:35, he tells us that he will have more to say on this matter. This is found in his commentary to Leviticus 18:19, where he writes that the blood of menstruation “is deadly poisonous, capable of causing the death of any creature that drinks or eats it.” He further states:

If a menstruant woman at the beginning of her issue were to concentrate her gaze for some time upon a polished iron mirror, there would appear in the mirror red spots resembling drops of blood, for the bad part therein [i.e., in the issue] that is by its nature harmful, causes a certain odium, and the unhealthy condition of the air attaches to the mirror, just as a viper kills with its gaze.

I find it noteworthy that such a great figure as Nahmanides, who was also a doctor, was able to be taken in by these fairy tales. He certainly had never seen any red spots showing up on a mirror so why did he believe such a story without attempting to confirm its accuracy himself? I realize that in medieval times people were much more credulous, and repeated all sorts of far-fetched things that they heard.[20] Nahmanides himself repeats that people in Germany would make use of demons, and he had no reason to doubt this report.[21]

שמעתי בבירור שמנהג אלמניי”ו לעסוק בדברי השדים ומשביעים אותם, ומשלחים אותם ומשתמשים בהם בכמה ענינים

He also believed a report that travelers to the east had discovered the Garden of Eden, but were then killed by the flaming sword that guards the Garden.[22]

ובספרי הרפואות היונים הקדמונים, וכן בספר אסף היהודי סיפרו כי אספלקינוס חכם מקדוני וארבעים איש מן החרטומים מלומדי הספרים הלכו הלוך בארץ ועברו מעבר להודו קדמת עדן למצוא קצת עלי הרפואות ועץ החיים למען תגדל תפארתם על כל חכמי הארץ, ובבואם אל המקום ההוא ויברק עליהם להט החרב המתהפכת, ויתלהטו כלם בשביבי הברק, ולא נמלט מהם איש

However, when dealing with red spots on a mirror this was something that Nahmanides could have easily confirmed, and yet instead he relied on what he heard, or perhaps read. In seeking to understand how Nahmanides could have been misled in this matter, it helps to be reminded of Bertrand Russell’s famous comment made with reference to Aristotle’s assertion that men have more teeth than women.

To modern educated people, it seems obvious that matters of fact are to be ascertained by observation, not by consulting ancient authorities. But this is an entirely modern conception, which hardly existed before the seventeenth century. Aristotle maintained that women have fewer teeth than men; although he was twice married, it never occurred to him to verify this statement by examining his wives’ mouths.[23]

Returning to the matter of olives, it is noteworthy that the halakhic authorities, including those in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, who argued that olives have shrunk since the days of the Sages did not actually seek to prove this with historical evidence. Had they done so they would have found that the size of olives has not changed. However, concerning another measurement we find that the Steipler was indeed interested in what the historical record revealed. R. Avrohom Marmorstein and Jacob Djmal both called my attention to a letter of the Steipler that was recently up for auction. Here is the item from Kedem’s January 2018 auction catalog (catalog no. 59), pp. 269-270 (item no. 298).

This letter already appeared in Aleh Yonah (Jerusalem-Bnei Brak, 1989), p. 134.

We see that in trying to determine the size of a cubit, the Steipler actually wrote to the archaeology department at “the university” (i.e., Hebrew University). This sort of effort is exactly what is required when trying to investigate a matter such as this. Yet look what happened when this letter was published in the Steipler’s Karyana de-Igarta, vol. 2, no. 402. The section showing that the Steipler reached out to the academic world was simply deleted, with no indication given that anything has been removed from the letter.

Finally, it is worth mentioning the Hazon Ish’s position that although the various measurements go back to Sinai, the actual size of the measurements required in order to fulfill an obligation was established by the Sages. In other words, while the measurement of a kezayit is mi-deoraita, how big this olive is – as there are different size olives – was given to the Sages to be determined.[24]

וכשנאמרו שיעורין בסיני נאמרו על האומד ומה שנראה לו לאדם זהו שיעורו, ואמנם הדבר מסור לחכמים לקבוע גדרי השיעור לכל ישראל וכמו שאמרו חכמים כזית שנאמרו זה אגורי כשעורה זו מדברית כעדשה זו מצרית לא שנאמרה למשה כך אלא נאמרה סתם והיא הבינונית אלא חכמים עיינו בדבר וקבעו לכל ישראל שכזית אגורי ושעורה מדברית ועדשה מצרית הם הבינונים, וכשם שמסור לדעתו של רואה להכריע על הבינוני של הפרי בין חביריו הגדולים והקטנים כן מסור לחכמים לקבוע את המדידה שיש להגיד עליה שפירותיה הם הבינונים בהגלילים והארצות השונות

Regarding the kezayit measurement, there is one other point worth mentioning. Everyone knows that one is required to eat a kezayit of maror at the Seder. Nevertheless, the practice of the Ropshitz hasidim used to be precisely the opposite, as they were careful not to eat a kezayit of maror. This strange practice goes back to the founder of the Ropshitz dynasty, R. Naphtali Zvi Horowitz (1760-1827). (I don’t know if the practice continues today.) Not only is the lack of a kezayit problematic, but there is the other issue regarding whether one can even say a blessing on the maror with less than a kezayit.

R. Aryeh Zvi Frommer deals with Ropshitz practice, and also mentions that he heard that R. Shalom of Belz and R. Ezekiel of Shinova also told people to eat less than a kezayit of maror and to make the blessing on it.[25] R. Frommer attempts to justify this practice halakhically, and he states explicitly that he is doing so in order that the actions of these hasidic masters not be in contradiction to the Mishnah, Pesahim 2:6, the meaning of which appears to be that a kezayit is the minimum amount required for maror.[26] He also notes that he wants to justify the practice of “most of Israel” who use horseradish for maror and also do not eat a kezayit. His justification is only of eating less than a kezayit of horseradish, so it does not seem that this will be of any help with regard to the view of the Ropshitzer, as his avoidance of a kezayit of maror apparently applied to all types of maror, even lettuce.

Many people probably remember their grandparents telling them that in Europe they used horseradish for maror, but that unlike today there was no concept of being careful to eat a kezayit. If you had any doubts about what your grandparents reported, R. Frommer tells us the exact same thing. Are we to say that most Jews in Europe did not fulfill the mitzvah of maror? This is a conclusion that no rabbi wants to reach, and that is why R. Frommer is motivated to find some justification for the practice.

כנלע”ד ליישב דברי הצדיקים ז”ל שלא יסתרו למשנה מפורשת הנ”ל וליישב מנהג רוב ישראל שאוכלין למרור חריין פחות מכזית ומברכין עליו על אכילת מרור

R. Frommer was obviously concerned that what he wrote would be regarded as too radical. Thus, on the very last page of the book, where one finds the corrections, he stressed that his words were only a limud zekhut because most people do not eat a kezayit, but le-khathilah one cannot rule this way.

כ”ז כתבתי רק דרך למוד זכות מחמת שרוב ההמון ונשים נוהגין כן אבל לכתחלה אין להורות כן וכ”מ באבני נזר סי’ שפ”ג

R. Frommer has another relevant comment on this matter:[27]

ביום ג’ שמות חלם לי, שהגידו לי בשם הרה”צ ר’ פינשע ז”ל מפילץ דאף מי שמגיע לו יסורים ר”ל, סגי ביסורים כ”ש [כל שהוא], דלא עדיף ממרור דלא בעי כזית, ומה”ת סגי במשהו כמ”ש הרא”ש פ”י דפסחים סי’ כ”ה, כמו בזה סגי במשהו

There is no need for me to go into this matter in any detail, as it has been comprehensively analyzed in a wonderful article by Levi Cooper.[28] I would just like to call attention to some sources not mentioned by Cooper.

1. R. Mordechai Shabetai Eisenberger, Berurei Halakhot (Netanya, 2006), no. 51, offers a halakhic justification for the Ropshitzer, and claims that it is only applicable to horseradish.

2. The following story, quoting R. Aaron Rokeach, the Belzer Rebbe, appears in Aharon Pollak, ed., Beito Na’avah Kodesh (2007), vol. 2, p. 482:

פ”א, בליל הסדר שנת תש”ט, נכח דודי הר”ר יוסף צבי וועבער ז”ל (לאחר שניצל מגיא ההריגה במלחמה באירופה, וזכה לעלות ארצה אחר החורבן שם), והנה כ”ק מרן זי”ע נתן לו בידו מעט מאוד מה”מרור”. אחד מן הנוכחים שם, הרהיב עוז והעיר למרן זי”ע, ש”זה רק כל שהוא”. נענה מרן זי”ע והתבטא בלשונו “ער האט שוין געהאט גענוג מרירות”! – (בשם בעל העובדא

3. The following story, that R. Joel Teitelbaum of Satmar refused to follow his father-in-law’s practice of eating less than a kezayit of maror, appears in Aharon Perlow, Otzroteihem shel Tzadikim al ha-Torah ve-ha-Moadim (2006 edition), p. 323, quoting Moshian shel Yisrael, vol. 4, p. 17:

בליל התקדש חג הפסח בעריכת הסדר היה המנהג בבית דזיקוב לברך על אכילת מרור בשיעור פחות מכזית, וכן נהגו גם בפלאנטש. אולם רבינו (כ”ק מרן אדמו”ר מסאטמאר) ז”ל נהג כפשטות לשון הפוסקים וכנהוג בבית אבותיו הק’ לאכול שיעור מרור כזית כדאיפסקא הילכתא. וכשהיה רבינו ז”ל סמוך על שולחן חותנו (מזיוו”ר – הרה”ק רבי אברהם חיים הורביץ מפלאנטש זצוק”ל) לא נתנו לו שיעור מרור כראוי. ורק פחות מכזית – כמנהגם – ולא רצו שרבינו ז”ל יתנהג אחרת ממנהגם. אבל רבינו ז”ל השכיל להכין ולהצניע מראש מקדם בכיס הגלימא שלו שיעור כזית לאכילת מרור, ובעת עריכת הסדר כשהגיע לקיים מצות אכילת מרור אכל רבינו כשיעור

4. Matityahu Gutman, Belz (Tel Aviv, 1912), p. 31, states:

רבי יהושע מבלז אמר: אבי היה פוסק, והוא אמר שאין צריך לאכול כזית מרור, ובתשובות הנדפסות בסו”ס אמרי נועם למועדים כותב שמקובל כך מזקנו הק’ מרופשיץ וכן היו נוהגין כל בני ביתו, מחמת אי בריאות

The words I have underlined are how later generations mistakenly attempted to reconcile the practice of the Ropshitzer and his descendants with the halakhah.

Excursus

Another proof that the medieval German sages never actually saw olives is provided by R. Hayyim Benish – the expert in all matters of halakhic measurements and times – in what is still probably the best discussion of the history and halakhah of the kezayit measurement (and he did not need an entire book to make his points). See Benish, “Shiur Kezayit: Berur Da’at ha-Rishonim ve-ha-Aharonim,” Beit Aharon ve-Yisrael 50 (Kislev-Tevet, 5754), pp. 107-116.

R. Benish calls attention to a medieval Ashkenazic series of halakhic rulings published by Shlomo Spitzer in Moriah 8 (Sivan 5738). On p. 4, in discussing the size of an olive and the problem created by the medieval Ashkenazic assumption that two olives equal one egg, the unknown author writes:

ולי הכותב אינו קשה כי ראיתי זיתים בא”י ובירושלים אפילו ששה אינם גדולים כביצה

From this we see that the medieval Ashkenazic sages did not know what an olive looked like, and because of this they were mistaken in their assumption that two olives equal one egg. The author himself, who had journeyed to Eretz Yisrael and had seen actual olives, was able to correct his Ashkenazic contemporaries. Yet his statement that an olive is not even one sixth the size of an egg is not in line with the Rashba, Torat ha-Bayit: Mishmeret ha-Bayit, Mossad ha-Rav Kook ed., vol. 2, col. 52 (bayit revi’i, sha’ar rishon), who had olives at his disposal and describes them as less than one fourth the size of an olive. (See R. Benish, p. 109, for the common view that according to Maimonides an olive is one third of an egg.) See also R. Jacob Moelin, Sefer Maharil, ed. Spitzer (Jerusalem, 1989), Likutim, no. 55, that whereas two olives equal one egg, three dried figs also equal an egg. In other words, he believed that a fig is smaller than an olive, which could only be said by someone who never saw an olive. Perhaps he never saw a fig either, but the measurement of three figs equaling one egg is held by the geonim and Maimonides. See R. Eliyahu Zini, Etz Erez, vol. 3, pp. 201-202.

There are, of course, different types of olives, and R. Benish, p. 114, has a chart with the different measurements. Regarding the anonymous medieval Ashkenazic author, who stated that an olive is not even a sixth the size of an egg, it is possible that when he returned to Germany he forgot the exact size, and recalled them as being smaller than they actually were.

The editor of Torat ha-Bayit, R. Moshe Brun, finds the Rashba’s statement that an olive is not even a quarter of an egg so significant that he remarks:

חדוש גדול חידש לנו רבינו בהלכות שיעורין, דיותר מד’ זיתים בכביצה

R. Benish concludes that the size of a kezayit is 7.5 square centimeters. Recognizing that this is a good deal smaller than what people are told today, he concludes with the following important words which explain why a kezayit by definition must be a really small size.[29] What he says would appear to be basic to all of the Sages’ measurements, but for some reason I was never taught this in yeshiva:

רבים יתמהו ודאי, האם בשיעור זעיר כל כך מקיימים מצוות אכילה הכתובה בתורה. תמיה זו יסודה בחוסר הבנה במושג שיעורי תורה בכלל, ובשיעור אכילה בפרט. בסיס השיעורים בכל מקום ומקום הוא השיעור המזערי ביותר שעליו ניתן לומר שיש לו מהות. וכמו שיעור רוחב אגודל במדות האורך – מדה מחייבת בענינים התלויים במדות אורך (כמו לאו דהשגת גבול. ראה רמב”ם הל’ גנבה פ”ז הי”א), ושיעור פרוטה, שיעור מתחייב בממון, למרות שהוא שיעור זעיר ביותר . . , ואם יקדש אשה בשיעורי ממון זה – מקודשת. וכן הוא ה”כזית” – שיעור אכילה: השיעור המיזערי ביותר שיצא מכלל פירור ויש בו חשיבות אוכל . . . ואין תנאי במצות אכילה שיהיה בו שיעור מיתבא דעתא או שביעה

See also Beit Aharon ve-Yisrael 53 (Sivan-Tamuz 5754), pp. 91ff., where R. Benish responds to criticisms of his article. On p. 96 he mentions that one person criticized him by saying that the information he wrote about should not be made public!

והנה אמר לי חכם אחד: לא חידשת במאמרך מאומה, הדברים הינם ידועים, אלא שנאמרו, אפילו ע”י גדולי הפוסקים, מפה לאוזן, ואתה הוצאת זאת שלא כדין ושלא לצורך לרשות הרבים

Finally, no mention of the size of an olive would be complete without referring to R. Natan Slifkin’s essay on the topic available here.

One complicating factor in any discussion of the kezayit is that R. Joseph Karo, Shulhan Arukh, Orah Hayyim 586:1, writes:

שיעור כזית יש אומרים דהוי כחצי ביצה

R. Karo knew what an olive looked like, so why in his codification of the Passover laws would he record the view that it is the size of half an egg? Furthermore, why does he ignore the views of R. Isaac Alfasi, Maimonides, and R. Asher who held that a kezayit is less than this? And finally, how come in Orah Hayyim 210 when he discusses the kezayit he does not define it as half an egg?

These points are all raised by R. Hadar Yehudah Margolin in support of R. Benish’s position that when, in the laws of Passover, R. Karo mentions the view that a kezayit is half an egg, this is only to be regarded as a humra. However, R. Karo himself holds that the basic law is that a kezayit is really the actual size of an olive (which is certainly smaller than half an egg). See Beit Aharon ve-Yisrael 51 (Shevat-Adar 5754), p. 119.

In the recently published De-Haziteih le-Rabbi Meir (Jerusalem, 2018), vol. 1, p. 399, we see that R. Meir Soloveitchik did not like the suggestion that medieval Ashkenazic sages did not know how big an olive was.

אמר על כך הגר”מ שהרי ההגהות מיימוניות (פרק א’ ממאכלות אסורות אות מ’) מביאים שרבינו תם נתקשה בסימני עוף טהור, ואז עף אל שולחנו עוף טהור, ועל ידי זה ידע את הסימנים. ומזה רואים כמה סייעתא דשמיא היה להם שלא יטעו לומר דבר שאינו נכון, וא”כ איך אפשר לומר שכיון שלא ראו זיתים לכן לא ידעו מה שיעור כזית

* * * *

My Torah in Motion 2019 summer trips will be to Morocco, Central Europe, and Greece. Information about them will soon be up on the Torah in Motion website.

Notes

[1] A. Horowitz, Orhot Rabbenu (Bnei Brak, 1991), vol. 1, p. 364. Horowitz adds that he asked the Steipler how they could appoint a fifteen-year-old rabbi when it says in Shulhan Arukh, Hoshen Mishpat that a dayan has to be eighteen-years-old. The Steipler replied that a rabbi is not a dayan, as he only decides halakhic questions and is not on a beit din. Horowitz also asked the Steipler about what appears in the Beit Yosef, that semikhah should not be given to anyone under eighteen. The Steipler replied that this is only a general rule, but there are exceptions.

Regarding eighteen as the minimum age of a dayan, contrary to what Horowitz states, this is actually not recorded as halakhah in the Shulhan Arukh. R. Karo writes as follows inHoshen Mishpat 7:3:

יש אומרים שאינו ראוי לדון אלא מבן י”ח ומעלה והביא שתי שערות. וי”א דמבן י”ג ומעלה כשר ואפילו לא הביא שתי שערות

This is actually a case of יש אומרים ויש אומרים, and according to R. Yitzhak Yosef the general rule in such a case is that the second opinion is the one we accept. See Ein Yitzhak, vol. 3, pp. 438ff. (Kelalim be-Da’at ha-Shulhan Arukh, no. 28).

Sefer Meirat Einayim explains the position that allows a thirteen-year-old dayan as due to the fact that being a dayan is only dependent on חריפותו ובקיאותו .

R. Kook refused to give semikhah to a young man as he believed that semikhah should only be given to one who was knowledgeable in the entire Torah (!). See his responsum published in Peri ha-Aretz 5 (1982), pp. 6-9.

[2] Tevunah (1861), nos. 39, 40.

[3] Sections of this commentary that have not yet appeared in print were recently offered for sale at an auction. See here.

[4] Ha-Gaon ha-Hasid Rabbi Meir Marim Shafit. See also the very nice story about R. Shafit recorded here.

[5] Habermann, Anshei Sefer ve-Anshei Ma’aseh (Jerusalem, 1974), p. 139.

[6] R. Asher Anshel Yehudah Miller, Olamo shel Abba (Jerusalem, 1984), p. 181.

[7] The common pronunciation of his name as “Abudraham” is a mistake. See here.

[8] See R. Menahem Kasher, Haggadah Shelemah, p. 17 n. 141.

[9] Israel Davidson, Otzar ha-Shirah ve-ha-Piyut (New York, 1924), vol. 1, p. 303. As Davidson notes, this is the correct version of the text.

[10] This is how the words are pronounced, not yayin nesekh.

[11] See R. Levi Ibn Habib, Teshuvot, no. 147 (Kuntres ha-Semikhah, no. 4), s.v. ומתחלה. R. Baruch Rabinovich, about whom I have written a good deal in recent posts (and more is to come) was appointed גאב”ד of Munkatch immediately upon his marriage, when he was only eighteen years old. See R. Nathan David Rabinowich, ed., Hashav Nevonim (N.Y.-Jerusalem, 2016), p. 9.

This post deals with young rabbis, not precocious children. However, regarding children wise beyond their years, I just came across the following from R. Hayyim ben Bezalel, Be’er Mayim Hayim (London, 1964), vol. 1, p. 165:

ואני בעודי נער כמו בן ז’ שנים פעם אחת בליל שבת של פרשה זו הסיבו יחד זקנים בעלי הוראה ונתנו ונשאו בזאת הקושיא והייתי מקשיב לקולם לאחר דבריהם אמרתי לחוות דעי גם אני ברשותם . . . והודי לי רבותיי והנהתי להם מאד

[11] No. 99 (18 Shevat 5778), p. 6 n. 35. Regarding R. Mazuz, I think readers will enjoy the song devoted to him that recently appeared.

Here are other songs devoted to him

Here is Lipa Schmeltzer on Sukkot 2018 singing before R. Mazuz and R. Shlomo Amar. The first song he sings is a poem that R. Mazuz wrote about Maimonides.

[13] R. Mazuz also shows that the medieval French sages never saw a date, and this explains why they describe it incorrectly. See Bayit Ne’eman, Orah Hayyim, no. 25 (pp. 135, 137-138).

[14] Berakhot no. 107.

[15] See Excursus.
[16] Interested readers can consult the numerous sources listed by R. Eliezer Brodt, Likutei Eliezer, pp. 38ff.
[17] Sheki’in (Jerusalem, 1939), p. 22.

[18] See R. Moses Sofer, She’elot u-Teshuvot Hatam Sofer, Orah Hayyim, no. 23, who discusses the matter of birkat kohanim, as it is also quoted by Rabad in his commentary to Tamid 33b from Sefer ha-Mikzto’ot. R. Efraim Zalman Margulies, Beit Efrayim, Orah Hayyim no. 6, explains the Ashkenazic practice of not reciting birkat kohanim every day as due to the concern that there might be a niddah in a kohen’s house. With reference to the notion that a kohen does not recite birkat kohanim if there is a niddah in his house, which as just noted is quoted by Rabad from Sefer ha-Miktzo’ot, R. Joseph Kafih writes (commentary to Moreh Nevukhim 3:47, n. 31):

והדעות הללו חדרו גם לשכבות מסוימות של היהדות והחלו להתנהג במנהגותיהם, ראה לדוגמא פירוש הראב”ד למסכת תמיד הפרק האחרון בשם ספר המקצעות

In other words, R. Kafih is in agreement with Aptowitzer that this is an example of sectarian ideas finding their way into the writings of rishonim.

The late Yaakov Elman even saw Zoroastrian influence in a practice that would become part of the Niddah laws. He wrote the following here:

As to the non-elitist Babylonian Jews, we have a report regarding the ordinary Babylonian Jewish women. Rabbi Zera reports that the “daughters of Israel had undertaken to be so strict with themselves as to wait for seven [clean] days [after the appearance] of a drop of blood the size of a mustard seed [although biblically they are required only to separate for seven days from the onset of menstruation]” (Berakhot, fol. 31a; Megillah, fol. 28b; Niddah, fol. 66a). It is clear from Niddah (fol. 66a) that this stringency was a popular practice and not a rabbinic prohibition, probably in response to a “holier than thou” attitude perceived by the populace as emanating from their Persian neighbors. It seems that Babylonian Jewish women had internalized their Zoroastrian neighbors’ critique of Rabbinic Judaism’s relatively “easy-going” ways in this regard.

[19] Mehkarim be-Sifrut ha-Geonim (Jerusalem, 1941), pp. 166-168.

[20] Of course, in modern times people can also be quite credulous. Since we are discussing menstruation, here is another myth repeated by R. Hayyim David Halevi, Mekor Hayyim, vol. 5, p. 70:

וכבר הוכח שאחיזת יד האשה הנדה בפרחים ממהרת נבילתם

[21] Kitvei Ramban, ed. Chavel, vol. 1, p. 381. See also ibid., p. 149, that he believed it is possible for necromancers to raise the spirits of the dead.
[22] Kitvei Ramban, vol. 2, p. 296. Nahmanides wrote this in the thirteenth century when all sorts of tall tales were believed. Yet I still recall how surprised I was when told by a high school rebbe in the 1980s that he believed that the Ten Tribes were hidden somewhere on earth, waiting to be discovered. Perhaps relevant to this, R. Aharon Leib Steinman writes that the reason we cannot find the Sambatyon river is because of hester panim. See Ayelet ha-Shahar, Devarim, p. 190.

In general, it never ceases to amaze me how even very great figures have been taken in by phony stories. For one example (and I could provide a very long list of similar examples), here is a story about the power of the evil eye that R. Joseph Zechariah Stern records inZekher Yehosef, vol. 4, Tahalukhot ha-Agaddot, p. 13a. It actually upset me when I saw this, as I am a big admirer of R. Stern and was disappointed that he, too, readily accepted a phony story as fact.

ובענין עין הרע שנמצא באגדות הנה גם אנשים שאין להם חלק בתלמוד מחכמיהם ענו אמן על התאמתם וכנודע ע”פ מ”ע [מכתבי עת] כי הרופאים בע”מ פ”ב [בעיר מלוכה פטרבורג] עשו נסיון מבחינה שעשו שהניחו ככר לחם לפני אחד מחייבי מיתות ושהרעיבו אותו שלש ימים מקודם, ואותו חלק מהלחם שהניחו לפניו מבלי ליתן אותו לנגוע בו רק במבטי עיניו נהפך אח”כ לסם המות

This source, and the one from R. Steinman mentioned earlier in this note, are referred to in the recently published Otzar Hemdah (n.p., 2018), pp. 81, 150. See also ibid., p. 219, which cites R. Elijah David Rabinowitz-Teomim, Over Orah (Jerusalem, 2003), p. 237:

כבר נודע שבעת פריחת הגפנים אז גם היין שכבר הוא מכמה שנים במרתפים תוסס, (וכן אנו רואים בעת פריחת התבואות אז העיסה תוססת), ודבר זה נעלם מחכמי הטבע, אבל הכל רואים דבר זה בחוש, וא”כ ודאי שגם מה שכשאומרים דבר שמועה בשמו גורם ששפתותיו דובבות בקבר אין להתפלא כלל, אף שאין אנו מבינים דבר

How is it that R. Rabinowitz-Teomim can write that everyone sees the phenomenon with grapes and wheat he describes when the entire description is completely without basis? Otzar Hemdah, p. 219, cites a similar passage from R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai,Homat Anakh (Jerusalem, 1986), parashat Matot (p. 67a):

הלא תראה היין שהוא במרתף ומונח בחבית סתומה בעת שדורכים הענבים אף שהוא רחוק מאד היין שבחבית מתנועע והוא פלא

Again, we have to ask, how is it that so many people believed that they saw something which never occurred?

[23] The Impact of Science on Society (London and New York, 2016), p. 6.

[24] Hazon Ish, Hilkhot Shabbat 39:1 (Kuntres ha-Shiurim).

[25] Eretz Tzvi, vol. 1, no. 85.

[26] I say the meaning “appears to be,” as there is a famous comment of R. Asher ben Jehiel, Pesahim, ch. 10, no. 25, which some understand to be suggesting a different approach to maror and the obligation of kezayit. See R. Aryeh Leib Gunzberg, Sha’agat Aryeh, no. 100; R. Mordechai Shabbetai Eisenberger, Berurei Halakhot (Netanya, 2006), no. 51; R. Samuel Pardes, Avnei Shmuel (Jerusalem, 1993), no. 13; R. Asher Weiss, Minhat Asher: Haggadah shel Pesah (Jerusalem, 2004), pp. 203ff.

[27] Eretz Tzvi, vol. 2, p. 401.

[28] “Bitter Herbs in Hasidic Galicia,” Jewish Studies Internet Journal 12 (2013), pp. 1-40.

[29] See also R. Naphtali Zvi Judah Berlin, Meromei Sadeh, Pesahim 39a, who states that a kezayit is very small:

וזה ברור דשיעור כזית המבואר בשו”ע הוא שיעור קטן מאד

New Book Announcement: Ginzei Chag HaSuccos

New Book Announcement: Ginzei Chag HaSuccos

By Eliezer Brodt

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

A new work by Rabbi Yakov Stahl was just printed. Rabbi Stahl’s work is familiar to many of the readers of the blog; for reviews of some of his earlier works see here, here and here. This volume is very similar in style to Kovetz Al Yad; it’s a collection of material by Rishonim all related to Succos, the majority of which is printed here for the first time. Various literary genres are represented in this collection: Halacha, Minhag, Piyut, Philosophy and Kabbalah. Each section includes an introduction of its significance and the texts are fully annotated. There is also a twenty-five-page index to the work. What follows is a short description of some of the chapters, and the Table of Contents. Copies should be arriving in the US for sale right away. Additionally, one can purchase copies from me, while supplies last. For more information or for sample pages (and/or for a Listing of his publications) contact me at eliezerbrodt@gmail.com

החיבור הראשון בקובץ הוא פירוש לפיוטי קדמוננו על ענייני חג הסוכות מאחד מקדמוני צרפת בן דורם של תלמידי רש”י, במהלכו מרחיב המהדיר ארוכות אודות מנהג שרווח באשכנז ובצרפת לאגוד את הלולב כולו עד ראשו. חיבור נוסף עוסק בטעם מצוות לולב ואיגודו לרבי שלמה הצרפתי בן דורו וחברו של רבי יהודה החסיד, במאמר עשיר זה מרחיב המהדיר רבות בענייני איגוד הלולב.

מאמר נוסף מרכז מספר קטעים חשובים מתורת הראשונים, כמו קטע מ’קיצור ספר מרדכי’ לאחר מהראשונים על סוכה ולולב. פרק נוסף עוסק בפסקים בענייני סוכות מרבי אברהם ב”ר משה ב”ר דוד ממונייטו הקשור לבעלי התוספות ולרבינו פרץ בעל הסמ”ק, בין דבריו יסודות חשובים בענייני שליחות במצוות ועוד. פרק נרחב עוסק בחיבור דרשני בשם ‘עמק סוכות’ מאחד הראשונים שעוסק כולו בהלכות חג הסוכות, דבר נדיר בתקופת הראשונים, אשר נכתב כולו בדרך מחשבה ומוסר ולאורכו מבואר כיצד כל ענייני הימים הנוראים וחג הסוכות בונים את קומת האדם בשלמות עד שהוא מגיע לשלמות האמתית בשמיני עצרת והוא שש ושמח על השלמת הבניין ביום שמחת תורה.

פרק נוסף מציג את טעמי סוכה וארבעת המינים מ’ביאורים על דרך הנסתר’ לרבי נתן ב”ר אביגדור מחכמי איטליה הקדומים, במבוא לחיבור זה הורחב מעט במנהגי איטליה ובכינוי ‘מורה צדק’ שניתן לרמב”ם ע”י קדמונים רבים. בפרק נוסף מופיע לראשונה פיוט ‘זולת’ הלכתי מרבי יוסף דגף, כנראה מצרפת, במהלך שורותיו ניתן גם ללמוד על כמה חידושי הלכה כמו לימוד הלכות החג בחול המועד, חיוב חתן המחזיר גרושתו בסוכה, ברכת ‘לישב בסוכה’ בליל ראשון בלבד, ריבוי הדסים ועוד ועוד. נספח מיוחד עוסק במנהג פייטנים, דוגמת הקלירי, לייחס עצמם על שם מקומם.

Happy July 4th

From a Hebrew Bible printed by the Vaad Hatzalah, Munich, 1947, for the use of Displaced Persons (DPs), the”Sherith Hepleita,” with a dedication to President Harry S. Truman

Another “Translation” by Artscroll, the Rogochover and the Radichkover

Another “Translation” by Artscroll, the Rogochover and the Radichkover

Marc B. Shapiro

1. As I discuss in Changing the Immutable, sometimes a choice of translation serves as a means of censorship. In other words, one does not need to delete a text. Simply mistranslating it will accomplish one’s goal. Jay Shapiro called my attention to an example of this in the recent ArtScroll translation of Sefer ha-Hinukh, no. 467.

In discussing the prohibition to gash one’s body as idol-worshippers so, Sefer ha-Hinukh states:

אבל שנשחית גופנו ונקלקל עצמנו כשוטים, לא טוב לנו ולא דרך חכמים ואנשי בינה היא, רק מעשה המון הנשים הפחותות וחסרי הדעת שלא הבינו דבר במעשה הא-ל ונפלאותיו.

The Feldheim edition of Sefer ha-Hinnukh, with Charles Wengrov’s translation, reads as follows:

But that we should be be destructive to our body and injure ourselves like witless fools—this is not good for us, and is not the way of the wise and the people of understanding. It is solely the activity of the mass of low, inferior women lacking in sense, who have understood nothing of God’s handiwork and his wonders.

This is a correct translation. However, Artscroll “translates” the words המון הנשים הפחותות וחסרי הדעת as “masses of small-minded and unintelligent people.” This is clearly a politically correct translation designed to avoid dealing with Sefer ha-Hinukh’s negative comment about the female masses. I will only add that Sefer ha-Hinukh’s statement is indeed troubling. Why did he need to throw in “the women”? His point would have been the exact same leaving this out, as we can see from ArtScroll’s “translation.” Knowing what we know about the “small-minded unintelligent” men in medieval times, it is hard to see why he had to pick on women in this comment, as the masses of ignorant men would have also been a good target for his put-down.

2. In my post here I wrote:

One final point I would like to make about the Rogochover relates to his view of secular studies. . . . Among the significant points he makes is that, following Maimonides, a father must teach his son “wisdom.” He derives this from Maimonides’ ruling in Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Rotzeah 5:5:

הבן שהרג את אביו בשגגה, גולה. וכן האב שהרג את בנו בשגגה, גולה על ידו, במה דברים אמורים. כשהרגו שלא בשעת לימוד, או שהיה מלמדו אומנות אחרת שאינו צריך לה. אבל אם ייסר את בנו כדי ללמדו תורה או חכמה או אומנות ומת פטור

He adds, however, that instruction in “secular” subjects is not something that the community should be involved in, with the exception of medicine, astronomy, and the skills which allow one to take proper measurements, since all these matters have halakhic relevance. In other words, according to the Rogochover, while Jewish schools should teach these subjects, no other secular subjects (“wisdom”) should be taught by the schools, but the father should arrange private instruction for his son.

רואים דהרמב”ם ס”ל דגם חכמה מותר וצריך אב ללמוד [!] לבנו אבל ציבור ודאי אסורים בשאר חכמות חוץ מן רפואה ותקפות [!] דשיך [!] לעבובר [צ”ל לעבור] וגמטרא [!] השייך למדידה דזה ג”כ בגדר דין

He then refers to the Mekhilta, parashat Bo (ch. 18), which cites R. Judah ha-Nasi as saying that a father must teach his son ישוב המדינה. The Rogochover does not explain what yishuv ha-medinah means, just as he earlier does not explain what is meant by “wisdom,” but these terms obviously include the secular studies that are necessary to function properly in society.

Dr. Dianna Roberts-Zauderer takes issue with my assumption that “wisdom” (חכמה), the word used by Maimonides, includes what I have termed “secular studies”. (The Touger translation also has “secular knowledge”). She correctly points out that when the medievals used the word חכמה it means philosophy. She adds: “Does it not make sense that Maimonides would advocate the learning of philosophy? Or that the Rogochover would forbid the learning of philosophy in yeshivot, but only permit it at home with a teacher hired by the father?”

Although the term חכמה often means philosophy, I do not think we must assume that this is its meaning in Hilkhot Rotzeah 5:5. Based on parallel passages in Maimonides’ writings where the same halakhah is mentioned, R. Nachum Eliezer Rabinovitch claims that the word חכמה in this case actually means good character traits.[1] He sums up his discussion as follows:

כוונת רבינו אחת היא בכל המקומות, דהיינו לימוד מדות הנקרא חכמה

Quite apart from this, in my discussion I was dealing with how the Rogochover understood the passage in Maimonides. We have to remember the context of the Rogochover’s letter. He was asked about the study of secular subjects, as was the practice among the German Orthodox. He was not asked about the study of philosophy per se. Furthermore, in the passage cited from manuscript by R. Judah Aryeh Wohlgemuth,[2] which I referred to in the previous post, the Rogochover specifically understands Maimonides’ term חכמה in Hilkhot Rotzeah 5:5 as meaning שאר החכמות, which he identifies with what R. Judah ha-Nasi calls ישוב המדינה.

Regarding the Rogochover, there are a few things people mentioned to me after seeing my post which I think are worthwhile to record. Dr. Rivka Blau, the daughter of R. Pinchas Teitz, told me that her uncle, R. Elchanan Teitz, would on occasion cut the Rogochover’s hair.

In the post I mentioned how the Rogochover acknowledged that his learning Torah while sitting shiva was a sin, but he did so anyway as the Torah was worth it. R. Yissachar Dov Hoffman called my attention to the following comment about this by R. Ovadiah Yosef, Meor Yisrael, Berakhot 24b:

לפע”ד לא יאומן כי יסופר שת”ח יעבור על הלכה פסוקה בטענה כזו. והעיקר דס”ל כמ”ש הירושלמי פ”ג דמ”ק שאם היה להוט אחר ד”ת מותר לעסוק בתורה בימי אבלו, דהו”ל כדין אסטניס שלא גזרו בו איסור רחיצה מפני צערו.

In the post I mentioned that the Shibolei ha-Leket appears to be the only rishon who adopts the position of the Yerushalmi referred to by R. Ovadiah. R. Yissachar Dov Hoffman called my attention to R. Yehudah Azulai, Simhat Yehudah, vol. 1, Yoreh Deah no. 40, which is a comprehensive responsum on the topic of a mourner studying Torah. R. Azulai notes that a few recently published texts of rishonim record the position of the Yerushalmi. He also mentions that according to some rishonim the prohibition is only to study on the first day of mourning. In studying R. Azulai’s responsum, I found another source that could be used to defend the Rogochover’s learning Torah during shiva. R. Meir ben Shimon ha-Meili writes:[3]

ונראה לומר דלדברי כל פוסקים העיון מבלי הקריאה מותר, שאינו אלא הרהור בעלמא, ולא חמיר אבלות משבת דאמרינן דבור אסור הרהור מותר, וכל שכן הרהור בדברי תורה לאבל שהוא מותר . . . והלכך מותר לו לאבל לעיין בספר, ובלבד שלא יקרא בו בפיו.

R. Meir ben Shimon adds that despite what he wrote, the common practice is for a mourner not to read any Torah books. Yet as we can see, he believes that this is halakhically permitted as long as one does not read out loud.

R. Chaim Rapoport called my attention to the following passage in a new book about the late rav of Kefar Habad, Ha-Rav Mordechai Shmuel Ashkenazi (Kefar Habad, 2017), p. 546:

יצוין בהקשר זה למעשה משעשע, ששח הרב אשכנזי בשם הרה”ח ר’ אליהו חיים אלטהויז הי”ד, אודות אסיפה שכינס הרבי הריי”ץ עם הגיעו לריגה שבלטביה. הרוגצ’ובר נכח באותה ישיבה, ומשנמשכו הנאומים, התקשה הגאון לשבת במנוחה, והוא הסיר את כובעו והשליכו על הבקבוקים שניצבו על השולחן, תוך שערם כוסות שורה על שורה בפירמידה, וכן שפך מים מכוס אחת לשנייה וכדומה.

הרב ד”ר מאיר הילדסיימר [!] ע”ה מברלין, שהיה יקה מובהק, תהה לפשר התופעה והתקשה להכילה. הרבי הריי”ץ חש בפליאתו וציין באוזניו, כי הרוגצ’ובר הינו “שר התורה, וכל רז לא אניס ליה”. השיב הרב הילדסהיימר: “הכול טוב ויפה, אולם נורמאלי זה לא”.

I am surprised that such a passage, using the words “not normal” about behavior of the Rogochover, was published, especially in a Habad work. As is well known, there is a special closeness in Habad to the Rogochover, as he himself was from a Habad family (although it was not Lubavitch but from the Kopust branch of Habad).[4]

Ha-Rav Mordechai Shmuel Ashkenazi also has a number of other stories about the Rogochover. The following appears on p. 211: Once R. Jacob David Wilovsky of Slutzk visited R. Meir Simhah of Dvinsk and told him that he wanted to also visit the Rogochover. R. Meir Simhah attempted to dissuade him, saying that the Rogochover would put him down like he puts everyone down. Yet R. Wilovsky visited him and the Rogochover did not put him down. He said to the Rogochover, “I heard that you put down everyone, but I see that you treat me with respect.” The Rogochover replied, “I put down gedolim, not ketanim.”

In my post on the Rogochover, I showed this page from R. Menahem Kasher’s Mefaneah Tzefunot (Jerusalem, 1976), p. 2.

I wrote:

Look at the end of the first paragraph of the note on p. 2. The “problematic” quotation of the Rogochover, saying that he will happily be punished for his sin in studying Torah, as the Torah is worth it, has been deleted. Instead, the Rogochover is portrayed as explaining his behavior as due to the passage in the Yerushalmi. While all the other authors who discuss this matter and want to “defend” the Rogochover claim that his real reason for studying Torah was based on the Yerushalmi, in R. Kasher’s work this defense is not needed as now we have the Rogochover himself giving this explanation!

Yet the Rogochover never said this. R. Zevin’s text has been altered and a spurious comment put in the mouth of the Rogochover. By looking carefully at the text you can see that originally R. Zevin was quoted correctly. Notice how there is a space between the first and second paragraphs and how the false addition is a different size than the rest of the words. What appears to have happened is that the original continuation of the paragraph was whited out and the fraudulent words were substituted in its place. Yet this was done after everything was typeset so the evidence of the altering remains.

I had forgotten that the 1976 edition of Mefaneah Tzefunot, which is the one found on Otzar ha-Hokhmah and hebrewbooks.org, was the second publication of the book. I thank David Scharf for reminding me of this and for sending me copies of the following pages. Here are the Hebrew and English title pages of the first edition.

Notice how the two title pages have different publication dates. At that time, Yeshiva University was helping to fund R. Kasher’s work on the Rogochover.[5]

Here is page 2 of the preface.

As you can see, in the original publication the text from R. Zevin appears in its entirety. It is only in the second edition that R. Kasher altered what R. Zevin wrote.

There is a good deal more to say about the Rogochover, so let me add another point. In 1892 R. Dov Baer Judah Leib Ginzberg published his Emunat Hakhamim. Included in it, on pages 23b-24b, is a report of how the Rogochover understood the time of death. I believe that what he states can be used to support the argument that brain death is equal to halakhic death. Here are the pages.

The matter of antinomianism, and in particular the Rogochover violating halakhah in the name of a higher purpose, is of interest to many people. In a future post I will cite an example concerning which I think everyone (or most everyone) will agree that even though the halakhah is clear, nevertheless, even the most pious will not hesitate to violate the halakhah in this particular case, again, because of a larger concern.

For now, I want to call attention to another who, like the Rogochover, was very unusual. R. Shlomo Aviner writes as follows:[6]

בישיבת “מרכז הרב” היה גאון אחד בשם הרדיצ’קובר, שהיה מתנהג בצורה משונה. הוא היה נכנס לשירותים עם ספר הרמב”ם. אמרו לו: אסור! ותשובותו: “הרי גם הרמב”ם עצמו היה נכנס לשרותים!”כשנפטר, היו האנשים נבוכים בהספד שלו, שהרי היה תלמיד חכם, אך התנהג בצורה מוזרה מאד. הרב נתן רענן, חתנו של מרן הרב, הספיד אותו ואמר, שגדולתו היתה אהבת התורה, ומרוב אהבת התורה עשה דברים שלא יעשו. הוא חטא חטאים שנבעו מאהבת התורה.

R. Aviner speaks about a gaon known as the Radichkover who was quite strange. He would go into the restroom holding a copy of the Mishneh Torah. When he was told that this is forbidden, he replied that Maimonides himself went to the restroom! In other words, if Maimonides could go into the restroom then certainly his book can be brought into it. The Radichkover actually tells this story himself about bringing R. Reuven Katz’s book, Degel Reuven, into the restroom.[7]

When he died, people did not know how to eulogize him, because on the one hand he was a great talmid hakham, but on the other hand he acted in a very strange manner. R. Aviner tells us that R. Natan Ra’anan, the son-in-law of R. Kook, delivered the eulogy and said that his greatness was his love of Torah, and due to this great love he did things that were improper. “He sinned yet these sins arose from his love of Torah.”

It is obviously not very common that a eulogy mentions improper things done by the deceased. It is also understandable why, due to his unconventionality, the Radichkover reminds people of the Rogochover. For those who have never heard of him, his name was R. Yaakov Robinson (1889-1966), and before coming to Eretz Yisrael he studied with R. Baruch Ber Leibowitz. You can read more about him here and here. Two responsa in R. Moshe Feinstein’s Iggerot Moshe were sent to the Radichkover. Both of these responsa are from 1933, when R. Moshe was still in Russia.[8]

If you look at the Wikishiva page on the Radichkover here, it says that he died in 1977. So how do I know that this is incorrect and that he died in 1966? Because he died at the same time as R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg. Here is a page from Beit Yaakov, Shevat 5726, p. 31, and you can see the announcement of both of their funerals.

It is typical of an Agudah publication like Beit Yaakov that it would falsely state that R. Weinberg was connected for many years with Agudat Israel. This is as false as the newspaper’s statement that he served as rosh yeshiva in Montreux.

A number of sharp comments of the Radichkover became well known in the Jerusalem yeshiva world and are mentioned in the two sites I linked to above. See also here for more of his sayings. Here is one I liked, which was written by the Radichkover in one of his works (mentioned here).[9]

הבוקר אחרי התפילה ניגש אלי יהודי ושאל אותי למה אני יושב ב”ויברך דוד”. חשבתי לעצמי, זה שאני יושב בלי אשה, זה לא מפריע לו, זה שאני יושב בלי פרנסה, זה לא מפריע לו, מה כן מפריע לו, שאני יושב בויברך דוד . . .

Here is another great story dealing with the Hazon Ish (mentioned here)

ר’ יענקל היה נתון תדיר בתחושת רדיפה. מעולם לא אכל אוכל שלא הכין בעצמו ועוד שאר דברים ע”ז הדרך. פעם נזעק לביתו של החזון אי”ש בטענה כי אחדים מבני הישיבה ניסו להרעילו. מה עליו לעשות. שאלו החזון אי”ש: “מה שמו בכוס קודם – את התה או את הסם”. הרהר ר’ יענקל קלות וענה: “קודם את התה ואח”כ את הסם”. נענה החזו”א: “אנחנו הרי פוסקים שתתאה גבר”. ונח דעתיה.

In the recently published conversations of the late R. Meir Soloveitchik, Da-Haziteih le-Rabbi Meir, vol. 1, p. 159, the Hazon Ish’s wife is quoted as saying as follows about the Radichkover:

מה”שברי לוחות”, אפשר לראות ולשער מה היו הלוחות השלמות, כאשר היה בריא

While the Radichkover never published any full-length books, he published a number of short pieces. Here is the first page of his Masa Dumah.

Here is the first page of his Olam Gadol Oleh ve-Olam Katan Shokea.

A short glance at either of these works should suffice to show that we are not dealing with a “normal” talmid hakham. In Olam Gadol, p. 10, he reports that the Rogochover said about him that he was the greatest Torah scholar alive! Here is page 15 of Olam Gadol. It hardly needs to be said that what he includes here about the locked rest rooms is not the typical material found in seforim.

In Masa Dumah, p. 8, he makes the following sharp comment about R. Joseph Kahaneman. “They asked me in the Ponovezh yeshiva, what I have to say about the Ponovezher Rav. I said to them that he is greater than the Maharal of Prague. The Maharal created one golem and he created three hundred golems. The Ponovezh Yeshiva is a factory for am ha’aratzut.”

Excursus

The people who saw the Radichkover sitting during Vayvarekh David were bothered since everyone knows that this is recited standing. The ArtScroll siddur states: “One must stand from ויברך דויד until after the phrase אתה הוא ה’ הא-להים, however there is a generally accepted custom to remain standing until after ברכו.” I don’t like this formulation. On what basis can ArtScroll state that “one must stand”? The word “must” means that we are dealing with a halakhah, i.e., an obligation. But that is not the case at all. Standing in Vayvarekh David is only a minhag, like much else we do in the prayers.[10] As such, I think it would have been proper for ArtScroll to write, “The generally accepted practice is to stand from ויברך דויד” etc.

R. Moses Isserles, Shulhan Arukh, Orah Hayyim 51:7, refers to standing in Vayvarekh David, and his language is as follows:[11]

ונהגו לעמוד כשאומרים ברוך שאמר ויברך דוד וישתבח

On this passage, the Vilna Gaon writes: לחומרא בעלמא, “it is only a stringency”. R. Jehiel Michel Epstein, Arukh ha-Shulhan, Orah Hayyim 51:8, also writes that there is no halakhah to stand for Vayvarekh David.

ומצד הדין אין שום קפידא לבד בשמ”ע ומחויבים לעמוד וקדושה וקדיש וברכו.

R. Epstein returns to this matter in Arukh ha-Shulhan, Yoreh Deah 214:23. This passage is not well known as this volume of Arukh ha-Shulhan was only printed in 1991 and is not included in the standard sets of Arukh ha-Shulhan that people buy. R. Epstein writes:

מדינא דגמ’ מותר לישב בכל התפלה לבד שמונה עשרה דצריך בעמידה ושיש הרבה נוהגים ע”פ מה שנדפס בסידורים לעמוד כמו בויברך דוד וישתבח ושירת הים וכיוצא בהם גם זה אינו מנהג לקרא למי שאינו עושה כן משנה ממנהג וראיה שהרי יש מן הגדולים שחולקים בזה.

According to R. Epstein, one does not even violate a minhag by sitting for Vayvarekh David and the rest of the prayers through Yishtabah.

So we see that when it comes to standing, Vayvvarekh David has the same status as Yishtabah, i.e., standing for both is minhag. Yet ArtScroll mistakenly separates the two, regarding the standing for Vayvarekh David as halakhah and the standing for Yishtabah (and everything in between) as “a generally accepted custom.” It is worth noting that the Mishnah Berurah, Orah Hayyim 51:19, only mentions the custom of standing in Vayvarekh David, not the current practice of standing until after Yishtabah. I must note, however, that the Kaf ha-Hayyim, Orah Hayyim 51:43, quotes R. Isaac Luria that one has to stand, צריך לעמוד, during Vayevarekh David. This is similar to ArtScroll’s formulation, but I find it hard to believe that ArtScroll’s instructions are based on kabbalistic ideas.

R. Jacob Moelin (the Maharil) did not stand for Vayvarekh David. See Sefer Maharil, Makhon Yerushalayim ed., Hilkhot Tefilah, no. 1, p. 435, and R. Yair Hayyim Bacharach, Mekor Hayyim 51:7. See also R. Jacob Sasportas, Ohel Yaakov, no. 74, for a report that in Hamburg they did not stand for Vayvarekh David.

R. Samuel Garmizon (seventeenth century), Mishpetei Tzedek, no. 70, was asked about someone who was accustomed to stand in Vayvarekh David (and also in Barukh She-Amar) but now wishes to sit. Is he allowed to? R. Garmizon states that if he mistakenly thought that it was an obligation to stand and has now learned that it is only a pious practice (minhag hasidim), then he is permitted to sit and it is not regarded as if he took on a stringency as an obligation. The Yemenite practice is also not to stand for Vayvarekh David. See R. Yihye Salih, Piskei Maharitz, ed. Ratsaby, vol. 1, p. 118.

While readers might find this all interesting, they might also be wondering what it has to do with the Radichkover, since hasn’t Ashkenazic practice in the last few generations been universally to stand? Actually, this has not been the case. R. Israel Zev Gustman stated that in the Lithuanian yeshivot the practice was to sit for Vayvarekh David, and also for Yishtabah. They only stood for Barukh She-Amar and the kaddish after Yishtabah. See Halikhot Yisrael, ed. Taplin (Lakewood, 2004), p. 117.

R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach said that the general practice is to sit for Vayvarekh David. See R. Nahum Stepansky, Ve-Alehu Lo Yibol, vol. 1, p. 61:

יש הרבה דברים שכתוב שנהגו לעמוד בהם, ואנחנו רואים שנוהגים שלא לעמוד בהם. ב”ויברך דוד” כותב הרמ”א שנהגו לעמוד – ולא עומדים.

I find this astounding. I have been to Ashkenazic synagogues all over the word and I have never seen people sit for Vayvarekh David. Yet R. Shlomo Zalman says that this is what people do. This passage comes from a discussion of how R. Shlomo Zalman dealt with a young yeshiva student who pressed him that people in the synagogue should stand when someone gets an aliyah and recites Barkhu. R. Shlomo Zalman replied that the minhag is to sit, adding, “You don’t see what people do?!” In other words, the fact that people sit when someone gets an aliyah shows us that this is the minhag and it should not be changed, despite what might appear in various halakhic texts.

Regarding standing during prayers, I have noticed something else. When I was young many of the old timers would sit for the various kaddishes. Today, in the Ashkenazic world, it seems that everyone stands for every kaddish, and this is in line with what R. Moses Isserles writes in Shulhan Arukh, Orah Hayyim 56:1. Also, it seems that for the communal mi-sheberakh for sick people everyone also stands, and in some shuls they announce that everyone should stand. Why is this done? I cannot think of any reason to stand for this mi-sheberakh unless it is a way to get people to stop talking.

Michael Feldstein recently commented to me that in the last ten years or so he has seen something that did not exist in earlier years, namely, people standing for Parashat Zakhor. I, too, noticed this in my shul, but it has only been going on for a year or two. This year, no one announced that people should stand. Some just stood up on their own and pretty much the entire shul then joined in. Unless the rabbis start announcing that people can sit down, in a few years it will probably become obligatory to stand for Parashat Zakhor, much like it now seems to be obligatory to repeat the entire verse, whereas when I was young the only words to be repeated were תמחה את זכר עמלך. (I always paid attention to this as Ki Tetze is my bar mitzva parashah.) Today, if the Torah reader tries to repeat only these words, they will tell him to go back and repeat the entire verse. What we see from all of this is that customs are constantly being created, and they often arise from the “ritual instinct” of the people, without any rabbinic guidance.

Two final points: 1. In the word ויברך the yud is a sheva nah (silent shewa). 2. The accent is on the second to last (penultimate) syllable, the ב, not on the final syllable, the ר. This word also appears in Friday night kiddush, and it is very common to hear people, including rabbis, make the mistake of treating the yud as a sheva na (vocal shewa) and also putting the accent on the last syllable. Many people also make a mistake at the beginning of kiddush by pronouncing the word ויכלו with the accent on the second to last syllable, the כ, when it should be on the last syllable, the ל. Another common pronunciation mistake is found in the Shabbat morning kiddush. וינח has the accent on the second to last syllable, the י, not on the final syllable, the נ.

Regarding the instructions in the ArtScroll siddur, another example of confusion is found in the commentary on Av Ha-Rahamim, pp. 454-455. ArtScroll writes:

As a general rule, the memorial prayer [Av ha-Rahamim] is omitted on occasions when Tachanun would not be said on weekdays, but there are any numbers of varying customs in this matter and each congregation should follow its own practice. During Sefirah, however, all agree that אב הרחמים is recited even on Sabbaths when it would ordinarily be omitted, because many bloody massacres took place during that period at the time of the Crusades. Here, too, there are varying customs, and each congregation should follow its own.

In the second-to-last sentence, ArtScroll says that “all agree”, but in the very next sentence it states that “there are varying customs.” If there are varying customs, then obviously not “all agree”. Incidentally, R. Zvi Yehudah Kook said Av ha-Rahamim every Shabbat, i.e., even when the accepted minhag is to omit it, since he felt that after the Holocaust this was the appropriate thing to do. See Va-Ani be-Golat Sibir (Jerusalem, 1992), p. 298.

Finally, since I have been speaking about different customs in prayer, I should mention something that I forgot to include in my post here, dealing with China. I believe that, outside of Israel, there is only one Ashkenazic synagogue in the world that has birkat kohanim every day.[12] This is Ohel Leah in Hong Kong. (R. Mordechai Grunberg, who has traveled all over the world as an OU mashgiach and currently works in China, told me that as far as he knows this statement is correct. I had the pleasure to spend Shabbat with him and three mashgichim from the Star-K at the wonderful Chabad House in Shanghai in June 2018.)

I have no doubt that the reason for the Ohel Leah minhag is because its nineteenth-century community was Sephardic. At some time in the twentieth century (no one was able to tell me when) the liturgy became Ashkenazic, but the daily birkat kohanim was kept. Interestingly, although the liturgy is Ashkenazic, it is nusah sefard. I assume the reason for this is that when they decided to adopt the Ashkenazic liturgy they wanted it to still have a Sephardic flavor, and that is why they chose nusah sefard.

* * * * * * *

2. Simcha Goldstein called my attention to how earlier this year the 5 Towns Jewish Times “touched up” a picture of Ivanka Trump.

3. Here is a painting of the Rav, R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik. It was commissioned by his wife when he was fifty years old. The Rav later gave this painting to Rabbi Julius Berman, and it is currently hanging in his home. I thank Rabbi Berman who graciously allowed me to publish a picture of the painting.

4. Tzvi H. Adams contributed three fascinating and thought-provoking posts to the Seforim Blog dealing with the impact of Karaism on rabbinic literature. He has now published a comprehensive article on this matter in Oqimta, available here. Its title is “The Development of a Waiting Period Between Meat and Dairy: 9th-14th Centuries.” There is a good deal to say about this article, but let me just make a couple of comments. On p. 4 he writes:

Even many minhagim extant today were arguably initiated as a response to the Karaite movement. For example, many historians agree that the recital of the 3rd chapter from Mishnat Shabbat, “Bamme Madlikin,” on Friday evenings following the prayer service was introduced during the time of the geonim with the intent of reinforcing the rabbinic stance on having fire prepared before Shabbat, in opposition to the Karaite view that no fire may be present in one’s home on Shabbat.[13] Similar arguments have been made for the origins of the custom of reading Pirkei Avot, the introduction of which traces rabbinic teachings to Sinai, on Shabbat afternoons. Recent scholarship has demonstrated that the creation of Ta’anit Esther in geonic times was likely a reaction to Karaite practices.

Later in the article, p. 57 n. 141, Adams mentions what might be the most prominent example of a response to Karaite practices, namely, reciting a blessing on the Shabbat candle. This blessing does not appear in the Talmud.[14] It is a geonic innovation, and according to R. Kafih it was instituted in opposition to the Karaite view that no fire should be burning in one’s home on the Sabbath.[15] He argues that by adding a blessing to the candle lighting, the geonim created an anti-Karaite ritual. While the Karaites would sit in the dark every Friday night, not only would the Jews have light, but they would recite a blessing before lighting the candle,[16] thus showing their rejection of the Karaite position.[17] R. Meir Mazuz makes the exact same point,[18] as does R. Abraham Eliezer Hirschowitz,[19] Isaac Hirsch Weiss,[20] Jacob Z. Lauterbach,[21] and Naphtali Wieder.[22]

In fact, some have argued that not only the blessing but the candle lighting itself was instituted in response to heretics who did not use fire on the Sabbath. As Lauterbach states, “It was as a protest against the Samaritans and the Sadducees.”[23] R. Kafih sees R. Joseph Karo as sharing this opinion. He writes as follows, quoting Maggid Meisharim (and assuming that what the Maggid says represents R. Karo’s view).[24]

וכתב מרן בספרו מגיד מישרים ר”פ ויקהל ואמר ביום השבת, למימר דדוקא ביום השבת גופיה הוא דאסור לאדלקא, אבל מבעוד יום לאדלקה ליה ויהא מדליק ומבעיר ביומא דשבתא שרי. ולאפוקי מקראים דלית להו בוצינא דדליק ביומא דשבתא ע”ש. נראה שגם מרן ראה בחובת הדלקת נר בשבת גם פעולה נגד דעות הכופרים בתורה שבע”פ שעליהם נאמר ורשעים בחשך ידמו.

Regarding the Shabbat candle, it is also worth noting that R. Judah Leib Landsberg actually stated that the practice of candle lighting was adopted from the Persians. Since the Jews were so attached to what was a pagan practice, Ezra and Nehemiah directed this practice towards a holy purpose, much like the origin of sacrifices was explained by Maimonides.[25]

ואפילו היה דומה למנהגי הפרסיים, לא היה ביד עזרא ונחמיה הכח והרצון לעקור המנהג הנשתרש באומה משנים קדמוניות, ולכבה האש זר “החברים” מבית ישראל. ובכל זאת למען תת לו איזה חינוך קדושה קדשוהו ותקנוהו להדליק האש של חול לנר קודש לקדושת השבת, כסברת הרמב”ם ז”ל בענין קרבנות כנודע.

He later acknowledged that this was not a serious explanation and claimed that the practice of candle lighting went back to Moses.[26]

One final comment about Karaites: Rashi, Sukkah 35b, s.v. הרי יש, has a strange formulation. In discussing the prohibition to redeem terumah so that an Israelite could eat it, Rashi writes:

הרי יש בה היתר אכילה לכהן, וישראל נמי נפיק בה, או לקחה מכהן הואיל ויכול להאכילה לבן בתו כהן, אבל פדיון אין לה להיות ניתרת לאכילת ישראל, והאומר כן רשע הוא

How is it that Rashi refers to one who makes a mistake in this matter as a רשע? Many people have attempted to explain this passage. R. Isaac Zev Soloveitchik noted that there must have been a sect that believed that it was permitted to redeem terumah, and that is why Rashi responded so sharply.[27] Regarding this suggestion of R. Soloveitchik we can say, חכם עדיף מנביא.

R. Tuvya Preschel’s Ma’amrei Tuvyah, volume 3, recently appeared. On p. 67 it reprints an article that appeared in Sinai in 1966. Preschel points out that the notion that terumah can be redeemed is stated by none other than Anan ben David in his Sefer ha-Mitzvot. It appears that Rashi knew of this Karaite opinion and this explains his harsh reaction. This was a great insight by Preschel, Unfortunately, while this insight has been cited by many in the last fifty years, Preschel is almost never given credit.

5. Many countries in Europe have Stolpersteins. These are brass plates, created by the artist Gunter Demnig, commemorating martyrs of the Holocaust. They are put in the pavement in front of buildings where the martyrs lived. A few years ago Demnig also started doing this for survivors of the Holocaust. I arranged to have one made for R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg.

After almost two years of waiting, I am happy to report that on June 18, 2018, a Stolperstein was placed at Wilmersdorfer Strasse 106, in Berlin. There was a little ceremony when the Stolperstein was inserted. Here is a picture of Demnig installing it as well as some other pictures that I think people will find moving.

[1] Yad Peshutah, Hilkhot Rotzeah 5:5.

[2] Yesodot Hinukh ha-Dat le-Dor (Riga, 1937), p. 250.

[3] Sefer ha-Meorot, Moed Katan, ed. Blau (New York, 1964), pp. 73-74 (to Moed Katan 20a).

[4] For a great story about the Rogochover told by R. Menahem Mendel Schneerson, see Likutei Sihot, vol. 16, pp. 374-375.

[5] Yeshiva University’s Gottesman Library also has a large archive of over 2500 letters and postcards sent to the Rogochover. This material was sent to the United States before World War II by the Rogochover’s daughter. I published a lengthy letter from this collection in my article on the dispute over the Frankfurt rabbinate. See Milin Havivin 3 (2007), pp 26-33.

The Zaphnath Paneah Institute at YU no longer exists. When I look at old material from YU, I often come across things that are now only a memory. Here is something I think people might find interesting.

(Unfortunately, the picture I took is not so clear.) The Beit Midrash li-Gedolei Torah was the name of a kollel at YU in the 1940s and 1950s headed by R. Avigdor Cyperstein. I thank his daughter, Mrs. Naomi Gordon, for allowing me to go through his papers where I found the stationery with the name of the kollel. R. Gedaliah Dov Schwartz was actually a member of this kollel. See Ha-Pardes, Tevet 5751, p. 58 and Kislev 5752, p. 1. Today YU has a number of kollels, see here, but none with this name. Does anyone know when this kollel stopped functioning?

[6] Mi-Shibud li-Geulah mi-Pesah ad Shavuot (n.p., 1996), p. 87.

[7] See his Masa Dumah, p. 4.

[8] Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah, vol. 1, nos. 4, 74. The first responsum mistakenly has the place of authorship as London, when it should say Luban. The city name appears correctly in the second responsum, which was written on the same day as the first. See here.

[9] See the Excursus where I discuss standing for Vayvarekh David.

[10] Saying Vayvarekh David is itself only a minhag. See Tur, Orah Hayyim 51:7:

ובתקון הגאונים כתוב יש נוהגים לומר ויברך דוד את ה’

[11] In Darkhei Moshe, Orah Hayyim 51 he writes:

המנהג עכשיו לעמוד מויברך דוד עד תפראתך

From his words we see that people only stood for the first half of Vayvarekh David.

[12] There is a lot of confusion as to how to pronounce the word ברכה in both the singular and plural construct: ברכת and ברכות. The first is pronounced birkat, as there is a dagesh in the כ. The second is pronounced birkhot, as there is no dagesh in the כ, and is parallel to the word הלכות – hilkhot. Interestingly, ברכתי (“my blessing”) does not have a dagesh in the כ even though ברכת does. I don’t think that there is any grammatical rule that can adequately explain all this. We know how the words related to ברכה are pronounced because they are attested to numerous times in Tanakh.

The word הלכות does not appear in Tanakh, and the Yemenite tradition is actually to pronounce it as hilkot, with a dagesh in the כ. See here. When not quoting from Tanakh, the Yemenite tradition is also to pronounce ברכת as birkhat, as in birkhat ha-mazon. See here.

[13] It is not only historians who say this. See R. Yitzhak Yeshaya Weiss, Birkat Elisha (Bnei Brak, 2016), vol. 3, p. 37, and see also R. Shimon Szimonowitz, Meor Eifatekha, p. 4, who cites R. Jacob Schorr and R. Serayah Deblitsky.

[14] A number of Ashkenazic rishonim quote a passage from the Jerusalem Talmud that speaks of a blessing on the Sabbath light, yet this is not found in any extant text and scholars agree that it is not an authentic Yerushalmi text. See the comprehensive discussion in R. Ratzon Arusi, “Birkat Hadlakat Ner shel Yom Tov,” Sinai 85 (1979), pp. 63ff. See also Jacob Z. Lauterbach, Rabbinic Essays (Cincinatti, 1951), p. 459 n. 98 and Sefer Ra’avyah, ed. Aptowitzer, vol. 1, p. 263 n. 10.

[15] See Teshuvot ha-Rav Kafih le-Talmido Tamir Ratzon, ed. Itamar Cohen (Kiryat Ono, 2016), pp. 162-163, and R. Kafih’s commentary to Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Shabbat 5:1, n. 1.

[16] I use the word “candle”, rather than the plural, “candles”, as the practice of lighting two candles only originated later, in medieval Ashkenaz. See R. Gedaliah Oberlander, Minhag Avoteinu Be-Yadenu: Shabbat Kodesh (Monsey, 2010), pp. 11ff. I was surprised to learn that R. Meir Soloveitchik’s daughters each lit a Shabbat candle and recited the blessing from the time they were three years old. See Da-Haziteih le-Rabbi Meir, vol. 1, p. 323.

[17] In later years we find that some Karaites adopted the practice of lighting candles on Friday night. Se Dov Lipetz, “Ha-Karaim be-Lita,” in Yahadut Lita (Tel Aviv, 1959), vol. 1, p. 142

[18] Bayit Ne’eman 38 (25 Heshvan 5777), p. 3, Bayit Ne’eman 118 (10 Tamuz 5778), p. 2 n. 9. In She’elot u-Teshuvot Bayit Ne’eman, p. 190, he does not present this approach as absolute fact, but states that it is “nearly certain”.

וקרוב לודאי שברכת נר שבת נתקנה בימי הגאונים להוציא מדעת הקראים

[19] Otzar Kol Minhagei Yeshurun (St. Louis, 1917), p. 232.

[20] Dor Dor ve-Doreshav (Vilna, 1904), vol. 4, p. 97. Weiss points to other examples of practices that he suggests were a response to Karaites, such as counting the omer at night, betrothing a woman with a ring, and reciting רבי ישמעאל אומר in the morning prayers. R. Judah Leib Maimon claims that the practice of a Saturday night melaveh malka was instituted by the geonim in opposition to the Karaites, who saw the Sabbath as a difficult and depressing day, in contrast to traditional Jews who find it difficult to part with the Sabbath. See Sefer ha-Gra, ed. Maimon (Jerusalem, 1954), vol. 1, p. 80.

[21] Rabbinic Essays, p. 460. He writes that the blessing was “probably intended as a more emphatic protest against the Karaites.”

[22] “Berakhah Bilti Yeduah al Keriat Perek ‘Bameh Madlikin,’” Sinai 82 (1978), p. 217.

[23] Rabbinic Essays, p. 459. See also Yehudah Muriel, Iyunim ba-Mikra (Tel Aviv, 1960), vol. 2, p. 131.

[24] Commentary to Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Shabbat 5:1, n. 1.

[25] Hikrei Lev (Satmar, 1908), vol. 4, p. 84.

[26] Ibid, pp. 84, 86ff.

[27] Shimon Yosef Meler, Uvdot ve-Hanhagot mi-Beit Brisk (Jerusalem, 2000), vol. 4, p. 310.

The Satmar Rebbe and a Censored Mishnah Berurah, and R. Baruch Rabinovich of Munkács

Marc B. Shapiro

1. In my recent interview in Der Veker, available here, I said that I hope to discuss how the Satmar Rebbe was mistaken in identifying a Zionist censorship in the Mishnah Berurah.

In Ha-Maor, Elul 5716, p. 30, M. Abramson tells the following story that appears under the heading על זיוף המשנה ברורה. The Satmar Rebbe was away from home and asked his assistant, R. Joseph Ashkenazi (who is the source of the story), to bring him a book. Ashkenazi brought the first book that came to his hand. It was a Mishnah Berurah printed in Israel. After investigating the history of the printing of the Mishnah Berurah at the National Library of Israel, I concluded that the copy the Satmar Rebbe was given was published by Pardes in 1955 (one year before the event described). Here is the title page.

Later the Rebbe returned the book to Ashkenazi and said that as far as he remembers, the language in section 156 of this copy of the Mishnah Berurah differs from what appears in other editions. Ashkenazi checked an older edition of the Mishnah Berurah and discovered that the Israeli edition had altered the original text.

The original Mishnah Berurah 156:4 reads:

מצוה על כל אדם לאהוב את כ”א מישראל כגופו שנא’ ואהבת לרעך כמוך וכו’ ודוקא רעך בתורה ומצוות אבל אדם רשע שראה אותו שעבר עבירה המפורסמת בישראל ולא קיבל תוכחה מצוה לשנאתו.

I have underlined the words that Abramson calls attention to. While the original text reads: לאהוב את כ”א מישראל, the Pardes edition has לאהוב את עמיתו. Abramson notes, “In this they wanted to show their support for democracy, that one needs to love not just the Jews but also the Arabs.” The Pardes edition also omits the second series of words that I have underlined, which express sentiments that are not very tolerant of the irreligious,[1] as well as some other words.

Here is the uncensored page in the Mishnah Berurah.

Here is the censored page in the Pardes edition.

Upon looking again at the Abramson article, I see that I misremembered, as it does not actually say that the Satmar Rebbe attributed this censorship to the Zionist publisher. He simply noticed the problem in the Israeli edition and said that this Mishnah Berurah is not like the others he has seen. It is Abramson who explicitly blames the Zionists (although perhaps the Rebbe agreed with Abramson). Abramson sarcastically writes that apparently they also provide copies of the Mishnah Berurah “to the children of Mapai and Mapam,” and this explains why they altered and censored the text.

Yet the truth is that what we have just seen has nothing to do with the Israeli publisher, Pardes. I found the same censorship in a Mishnah Berurah that appeared in Warsaw in 1895, and interestingly, it is this very edition that is found on hebrewbooks.org here. In other words, the changes we have seen were inserted under Czarist rule, and the Israeli publisher simply reprinted a copy of the Mishnah Berurah without realizing that it was a censored version.[2]

I know of another example where the altering of a text was blamed on the Zionists, and this time the one doing the blaming was a Mizrachi rabbi, R. Avigdor Cyperstein. In the Mossad ha-Rav Kook Archive of Religious Zionism there is a letter from R. Cyperstein to Dr. Yitzhak Rafael dated May 14, 1967. The relevant section reads as follows:

ידידי היקר – אני רוצה לזכות אותך בזכות הרבים, ובטח לא תחמיץ את המצווה הזו: כעת בכל העולם נפוצים הסידורים תוצרת הארץ הוצאת “בית רפאל”, ת”א – “סדור התפלה השלם” – והנה מצאתי בסידור זה דבר נורא: במעמדות של יום הששי מובא הגמ’ מנחות מד. המעשה באדם אחד שהי’ זהיר במצוות ציצית וכו’ ושם כתוב “באה לבית מדרשו של ר’ חייא, אמרה לו רבי צוה עלי ויעשוני גיורת וכו’, – והמולי”ם הללו העיזו לשלוח יד בגירסת הגמ’, ובמקום ויעשוני גיורת – השליכו את הגיורת החוצה, והכניסו במקומה “עברית” . . . והמרחק-התהום בין גיורת לעברית – אין צורך לבאר, וגם כוונתם הטרופה, בוקעה מזה, ומעלה סרחון, בכי’ לדורות. דומני שאין מי שהוא שהעיז לכבוש את המלכה בבית וכל ישראל – מתפללים מסידור זה, וע”כ מצווה לפרסם זה ברבים, ולתקן בהוצאות החדשות.

It is hard to know whether what R. Cyperstein refers to was indeed a Zionist inspired alteration. I say this because the version ויעשוני עברית is also attested to in a few sources that pre-date Zionism. I think it is more likely that the publisher just assumed that this is a more authentic reading.

Since I have been discussing the Satmar Rebbe, here is as good a place as any to note that contrary to popular belief, the name Satmar does not come from St. Mary. The original meaning seems to be a personal name, and in popular etymology the word came to mean “great village.”[3] Yet even in the Satmar community some believe that the word comes from St. Mary, and because of this they pronounce it as “Sakmar”. In pre-war Hungary this pronunciation was common among many Orthodox Jews, not only Satmar hasidim.[4] For one example of this, here is Samuel Noah Gottlieb’s entry on Satmar in his rabbinic encyclopedia, Ohalei Shem (Pinsk, 1912), p. 425. As you can see, while “Szatmar” appears in the vernacular, in the Hebrew the city is spelled “Sakmar”. There are many more such examples.

This avoidance of saying the word “Satmar” is similar to the way Jews referred in Hebrew and Yiddish to the Austrian town Deutschkreutz. Unlike the case with Satmar, when it came to Deutschkreutz the universal Jewish name was Tzeilem (Kreutz=cross=tzelem). On the other hand, there was a significant Jewish community in the Lithuanian city of Mariampole, whose name comes from Mary. Yet I am not aware of anyone who avoided saying the name of this city. Shimon Steinmetz emailed me as follows:

We might also note other cities with Christian-y names, like Kristianpol. Kristianpoler was a name used even by rabbis, cf. Rabbi Yechiel Kristianpoler, and his son Rabbi Meir. In addition, the Lithuanian town Kalvarija, which has a very Christian association, Jews used it without any issue. On the other hand, the Jews called St Petersburg, “Petersburg,” without the “St.”

One other point about Satmar: In a lecture I mentioned that one of the old-time American rabbis met with the Satmar Rebbe and concluded that when it came to the State of Israel, you simply could not speak to him about it. He was like a shoteh le-davar ehad when it came to this in that no matter how much you tried to convince him otherwise, he refused to listen to reason. Someone asked me which rabbi said this. It was R. Ephraim Jolles of Philadelphia (as I heard from a family member). I don’t think his formulation is too harsh, as anyone who has read the Satmar Rebbe’s writings can attest. It does not bother me if he or anyone else wants to be an anti-Zionist. However, the anti-Zionist rhetoric found in the Satmar Rebbe’s writings, and those of his successors, is often more extreme than what we find among the pro-Palestinian groups. Take a look at this passage from Va-Yoel Moshe, p. 11.

אם נקח כל פירצות הדור והעבירות המרובות הנעשות בכל העולם וישימו אותם בכף מאזנים אחת, ומדינה הציונית בכף מאזנים השני’, [המדינה הציונית] תכריע את הכל, שהוא השורש פורה ראש ולענה של אבי אבות הטומאה שבכל אבות הנזיקין שבכל העולם כולו, והן המה המטמאים את כל העולם כולו.

By what logic can one claim that such an outrageous passage would be anti-Semitic if said by Mahmoud Abbas, Linda Sarsour, Tamika Mallory, or Max Blumenthal, but not so if the very same thing is said in Satmar?

If anyone wants to see the results of this rhetoric, here are two videos with kids from Satmar. In this one the children are being taught that the Zionists started World War II and to hope for the destruction of the State of Israel.

In this video children were told that Netanyahu was in the car and they were to throw eggs at it.

It is very painful to see how children are being indoctrinated with such hatred. Again I ask, if such a video surfaced from a leftist camp, there would be no hesitation in labeling it anti-Semitic. So why are people hesitant to conclude that Satmar is also involved in spreading anti-Semitism?

The general assumption is that the Satmar Rebbe hated Zionism and the State of Israel so much, that he was inclined to believe even the most far-out anti-Semitic canards against the State. I have always found this difficult to believe. Say what you will about the Rebbe, there is no denying that he was very intelligent. Thus, I have a hard time accepting that he could have really believed in Zionist control of the media and other anti-Semitic tropes found in his polemical writings. In other words, I think it is more likely that he did not believe in any of these things but said them anyway in order to convince his followers not to give up the fight against Zionism, a fight that had been abandoned by so many former anti-Zionists after the Holocaust and the creation of the State of Israel in 1948. In such a battle it was necessary to turn Israel not only into something bad, but actually the worst sin imaginable.

R. Nahum Abraham, a Satmar hasid and prolific author, has recently written that the Satmar Rebbe would deny things that he knew were true. He regarded his denials as “necessary lies,” in order to prevent people from being led in the wrong direction.[5] If the Rebbe thought that it was permissible to deny the truth of certain hasidic stories in order to prevent his followers from being influenced by them, isn’t it possible that he would exaggerate the evils of the State of Israel in order to best indoctrinate his followers with an anti-Zionist perspective?

This approach also would explain a big problem that no one has been able to adequately account for. How was the Satmar Rebbe able to have friendly and respectful relationships with people who, based on what he writes, he should have regarded as completely out of the fold due to their involvement with the State of Israel? This includes even men like R. Aharon Kotler who supported voting in the Israeli elections, which the Satmar Rebbe claimed is “the most severe prohibition in the entire Torah.”[6] Yet we know that the Satmar Rebbe respected R. Aharon and others who had a very different perspective.[7] Can’t this be seen as evidence that there is a good deal of ideologically-driven exaggeration in the Satmar Rebbe’s writings, and that not everything he says really reflects his actual views? After all, if he really thought that voting in the elections was the most severe prohibition in the Torah and the State of Israel was completely destroying Judaism, would he still be able to be on good terms with rabbis who instructed their followers to vote and be part of the State?

2. Since I mentioned Munkács in this post, let me return to another recent post here where I discussed R. Baruch Rabinovich, the son-in-law of R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira and his successor as Munkácser Rebbe. When I wrote the post I was unaware of the fact that R. Baruch’s grandson, R. Yosef Rabinovich, recently published Ner Baruch, which is a collection of Torah writings and letters from R. Baruch. He includes in the volume the haskamot written by R. Baruch. I examined new printings of the volumes with haskamot that I was unaware of and found that R. Baruch’s haskamah to the first edition of R. Yitzhak Adler, Seder Shanah ha-Aharonah (Munkács, 1937) was deleted in subsequent printings. The same thing happened with R. Baruch’s haskamah to R. Judah Zvi Lustig’s Yedei Sofer (Debrecen, 1938). Here is how the page with the haskamot looks in the original printing.

Here is how the page with the haskamot looks in the reprint, where R. Baruch’s haskamah has been deleted.

Another point about R. Baruch: In 1946 he tried to become chief rabbi of Tel Aviv but lost out to R. Isser Yehudah Unterman. This is discussed in Samuel Heilman’s Who Will Lead Us? From a letter that appears in the archive of R. Isaac Herzog, and was sent to an unknown rabbi, we see that in 1950 R. Baruch was also interested in becoming av beit din in Tel Aviv.

This information is, to the best of my knowledge, not recorded anywhere else. In this letter, which I found here (a site that contains more interesting information and pictures about R. Baruch) we that R. Herzog, R. Unterman, and R. Yaakov Moshe Toledano were strongly opposed to R. Baruch receiving this appointment. Although the reason for this opposition is not mentioned, it is perhaps because they felt it was an abomination that someone from the anti-Zionist Munkács dynasty should have such a position in the State of Israel. However, as I have mentioned in my previous post, it is doubtful that R. Baruch ever really shared his father-in-law’s strong anti-Zionism. It is possible that the anti-Zionist statements he made in the pre-war years might not have reflected his actual beliefs but were due to his position as rebbe. That is, as the successor of R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira he felt that he had to make such statements. It is also the case that had he not continued his father-in-law’s anti-Zionist stance he would not have retained much of a following in Munkács.

When R. Baruch wanted to become chief rabbi of Tel Aviv, a letter in opposition to this was published by Chaim Kugel, head of the Holon Municipal Council:

Is it conceivable that this man . . . who hounded Zionism and Zionists . . . who loyally continued the line of the Munkács court, which cursed and banned any Jew who pronounced the word Zion on his lips . . . is it conceivable that this man will appear as a representative and moral leader in the first Hebrew city, and be a guide to its residents and Zionists?[8]

In those days it was obvious that positions of chief rabbis of important cities would go to Zionist rabbis. Here, for example, is a letter to R. Unterman from David Zvi Pinkas, an important Mizrachi figure and signatory of Israel’s Declaration of Independence.[9] Note how Pinkas tells R. Unterman that the Mizrachi expects him to follow the Mizrachi approach in everything he does. If R. Unterman could not commit to this, then Pinkas would have found another rabbi who could.

In my earlier post I neglected to mention R. Baruch’s Hashav Nevonim that appeared in 2016. This book is full of interesting material, and the more I read from R. Baruch, the more impressed I am. He really was a fascinating figure in so many ways.

There is a good deal I can say about Hashav Nevonim, but let me just call attention to the first essay that appears in the book, focused on conversion. Conversion is a matter often in the news. I have said on numerous occasions that what currently passes as the standard approach to conversion was not the case at all in previous years. To begin with, among the rabbis there were different understandings of what kabbalat ha-mitzvot entailed, and the currently accepted view that a prospective convert must commit to become fully halakhically observant, as practiced today in Orthodox communities, was not the view of many, and perhaps not even the view of most. The notion that a conversion could be annulled after the fact was hardly ever put into practice, although even this is found on occasion and R. Baruch cites some authorities who speak about this very point. Thus, it is not, as has often been alleged, a modern haredi idea with no historical basis although, as mentioned, it was very rare.

After going through the various views on conversion, R. Baruch concludes as follows (p. 47).

מנהג העולם נראה כמקבל דיעה זו, וכל מי שנתגייר, בין ששומר מצוות, ובין שחוזר ועובר עבירות, דינו כישראל, כל שקיבל עצמו עול מצות עם גירותו.

I have underlined the words which are not currently accepted by many (most?) conversion courts and which are at the heart of the controversy regarding voiding conversions. Today, the assumption of many conversion courts is that if someone who converts is later seen violating halakhah in a serious way, we can assume that this person never really accepted the mitzvot at the conversion, and the conversion is therefore not valid. It is this argument which was hardly ever put into practice in previous years and now appears to be quite common, so much so that converts claim to feel that their conversions are always “on condition,” namely, that even many years after converting there is the possibility that the conversion will be declared invalid because of a lack of proper kabbalat ha-mitzvot.

On pp. 27-28, R. Baruch calls attention to the novel view of R. Isaac Benjamin Wolf, author of Nahalat Binyamin (Amsterdam, 1682), a book reprinted a number of times and which carries the haskamah by R. Jacob Sasportas. Here is the title page.

R. Isaac is described as rabbi of מדינת מרק. This refers to the German county of Mark, about which see here.

Here is page 89a in Nahalat Binyanim

According to R. Isaac, in places such as Spain and Portugal, where one could not practice Judaism openly, if a Jewish man marries a non-Jewish woman, and the woman chooses to practice Judaism, both she and her children are regarded as Jewish. How can she be Jewish when she never immersed in the mikveh and there was no beit din to preside over the conversion? R. Isaac says that there is no obligation to immerse in the mikveh when there is danger (as there would be in a place with the Inquisition looking to find Crypto-Jews). Although he does not elaborate, it is obvious that according to R. Isaac kabbalat ha-mitzvot in front of a beit din is not an absolute requirement. In other words, he holds that in a she’at ha-dehak one can convert on one’s own, without a beit din.

This is a fascinating position that is at odds with accepted halakhah, so much so that most people won’t even believe that such a position is possible. R. Baruch is not able to cite anyone who agrees with it. The position of Nahalat Binyamim is discussed by R. Eliezer Waldenberg, who not surprisingly completely rejects it.[10] However, he does cite a medieval view that has some similarity to Nahalat Binyamim:

היה מקום להביא סמוכין לזה משיטת האביאסף שהובא במרדכי ביבמות סו”פ החולץ שמפרש דברי הגמ’ שם שאומרת מי לא טבלה לנדותה שמשמע דבדיעבד הוי גר גמור גם בטבילה בלי ג’.

Unlike R. Waldenberg, R. Hayyim Amsalem, Zera Yisrael, p. 290, does not reject Nahalat Binyamin out of hand. Instead he writes:

חזו דברי גאון קדמון זה לאיצטרופי, ולדון להקל בבני האנוסים ובבני יהודים לענין גיורם וחזרתם לדת, שכל שימולו ויטבלו לשם יהדות בהודעת מקצת מצוות כהלכה, סגי להו אף לכתחילה, אע”פ שאנחנו לא יודעים מה שהיה אח”כ לענין קיום המצוות, וזה אתי אפי’ למ”ד קבלת מצוות מעכבת.

See also Jacob Sofer, Sipurei Yaakov (Lvov, 1913), vol. 2, pp. 7ff. (no. 42), for a lengthy story starring the Maharal. The tale is obviously fictional, but of importance for our purposes is that the story, reported in a hasidic text, tells of a woman who ran away from her non-Jewish husband and married a Jewish man, had children, and was a righteous woman. However, this woman never converted with a beit din, and yet on p. 8a it specifically states that she and her children are to be regarded as Jewish. R. Nahum Abraham points to this as an example of an anti-halakhic hasidic story that cannot be true.[11]

Finally, Nahmanides in his commentary to Yevamot 45b has an interesting view and I do not know if it is accepted.

ואיפשר לומר דגבי קבלת מצוות צריך שלשה אפילו בדיעבד דמשפט כתיב ביה מה התם שנים שדנו אין דיניהן דין אף כאן אינו גר אפילו בדיעבד, אבל מי שהודיעוהו מקצת ענשן של מצות ומתן שכרן של מצות וקיבל עליו בב”ד לטבול ולמול, אם הלך ומל וטבל שלא בפני ב”ד הרי זה כשר ולא פסלינן לזרעיה

3. There are many new books to speak about. One of them is Chaim I. Waxman, Social Change and Halakhic Evolution in American Orthodoxy. The content of the book can be seen from the title. I will be reviewing this book in an academic journal, so I do not need to speak about it here. I would, however, like to call attention to one point that will not be mentioned in my review. Chapter 5 is titled “Tensions Within Modern Orthodoxy.” Not surprisingly, it deals with women rabbis. On pp. 109-110, Waxman refers to R. Jeremy Wieder’s view on the matter (the name is misspelled “Weider”). He quotes from an article in the Yeshiva University Commentator, which summarizes R. Wieder’s position as follows: “[I]n light of the success of the yoetzet halacha program in increasing overall observance in the communities that he has observed, it may be very beneficial to have women rabbis.”

I was quite surprised to see such a liberal position expressed by a YU Rosh Yeshiva, and I checked the source which appears here. R. Wieder is indeed quoted saying, among other things, that there is no binding tradition on the matter of women rabbis since the issue of women in leadership positions is a new question, thus preventing the development of a “stream of Jewish tradition.” However, when I read the article I did not find anything about how it may be “beneficial to have women rabbis.” I then noticed the following at the beginning of the article. “Editor’s Note: This article has been edited to more precisely convey the opinions represented.” In this case, I think the meaning of “more precisely convey” is that what originally appeared was altered (presumably at R. Wieder’s request) in order to prevent controversy. Yet even with the removal of R. Wieder’s view that it may be “beneficial to have women rabbis,” the current text of the article does not alter the substance of R. Wieder’s opinion. Thus, we find the following:

Lastly, Rabbi Wieder talked about the issue from a philosophical standpoint. He argued that expanding the pool of rabbinic students could lead to an increase in qualified rabbinic candidates. Rabbi Wieder added that he has observed the yoetzet halacha program increase overall halachic observance in the communities it serves and he expressed his optimism that women rabbis could generate similar improvement.

These words are certainly in opposition to the OU’s recent statement on women and religious leadership which is available here.

The question I have been asked a few times is if in the current political climate it is possible for a rabbi at a mainstream Modern Orthodox synagogue, or a teacher at a mainstream Modern Orthodox school, to feel free to express support for the ordination of women. Would such a rabbi or teacher risk censure from his colleagues or even the possibility of losing his job? The answer to these questions will determine if we are dealing with a real wedge issue (as I think we are).

Another new book is R. Bezalel Naor’s Shod Melakhim. R. Naor is well known as an outstanding interpreter of R. Kook. His great knowledge of the entire scope of Jewish thought (not just R. Kook) is apparent to anyone who examines his writings. Yet I do not know how many are aware of R. Naor’s achievements when it comes to rabbinic literature. This latest book is a collection of R. Naor’s studies on various halakhot in the Mishneh Torah. As part of R. Naor’s explication of these halakhot, he offers the reader wide-ranging enlightening discussions using numerous sources, both traditional and academic. For those who can appreciate the synthesis of the traditional and the academic approaches to the study of Maimonides, R. Naor’s new book is a real treat.

In the past I have spoken about the late R. Mordechai Spielman’s great work on the Zohar, Tiferet Zvi. The seventh volume of Tiferet Zvi has recently appeared, and can even be purchased on Amazon. Anyone who is interested in how the Zohar has been interpreted, and the impact of the Zohar on later rabbinic literature, will benefit greatly from of R. Spielman’s writings.

A new book (over 600 pages) by Benjamin Brown has appeared. It focuses on the Karlin hasidic dynasty. When I received the book in the mail, the first thought that came to my head is that Brown is a phenomenon. There is no other way to put it. It is not just the quantity of his literary output that is astounding, but also the quality, as everything he writes is worth reading.

____________

[1] Regarding the Hafetz Hayyim’s view of the non-religious, which is very much at odds with current approaches in the Lithuanian yeshiva world (at least in America), see Benjamin Brown, “Ha-‘Ba’al Bayit’: R. Yisrael Meir ha-Kohen, he-‘Hafetz Hayyim,’” in Brown and Nissim Leon, eds., Ha-Gedolim (Jerusalem, 2017), pp. 127ff. Brown also shows that in a few letters the Hafetz Hayyim adopts a more moderate perspective.

[2] In future posts I hope to say a good deal more about the Satmar Rebbe’s writings. For now, let me just respond to someone who emailed me and compared R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira, the Munkácser Rebbe, to the Satmar Rebbe. It is true that they are similar in terms of their strong opposition to Zionism, and the Satmar Rebbe can be seen as the Munkácser Rebbe’s successor in this matter. However, in terms of their scholarly approach, they are quite different, as the Satmar Rebbe did not have the Munkácser’s critical sense. In fact, I was quite surprised to learn that the Satmar Rebbe accepted as authentic the forged anti-Zionist letters published by Chaim Bloch in his three volume Dovev Siftei Yeshenim. See R. Dov Schwartz, Meshiv Devarim (New York, 2011), pp. 140-141.

[3] See here.

[4] Shimon Steinmetz called my attention to סאקמאר appearing as the name of the city as early as 1859 in R. Hayyim Meir Ze’ev ha-Kohen, Sha’arei Hayyim (Pressburg 1859), in the list of subscribers at the beginning of the book. (You can find this on Google books, but the version of the book on hebrewbooks.org is missing these pages, as well as other pages.) This shows that referring to the city as “Sakmar” was already common. Steinmetz also called my attention to the same thing in the list of subscribers found at the end of R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai, Kise Rahamim (Ungvar, 1870). In this case, you can see the subscribers in the copy on hebrewbooks.org, but it has been removed from the copy on Otzar ha-Chochmah. If this was removed intentionally, on the assumption that it is not really part of the sefer, it is a big problem, as the subscriber information can be of great historical importance. It is vital that both hebrewbooks.org and Otzar ha-Chochmah scan books in their entirety, without making any changes whatsoever.

R. Yoel Teitelbaum used the term Satmar all the time, and it was on his stationery, but I did find a number of places where he wrote Sakmar, spelled סאקמער and סאקמיר. See e.g., his approbations to R. Abraham Hayyim Reinman, Va-Yetze Perah (Satmar, 1940), R. Asher Steinmetz, Mikveh Yisrael ha-Shem (Jerusalem, 1961), and his letter in Divrei Yoel: Mikhtavim (Brooklyn, 1981), vol. 2, p. 81. See also Esther Farbstein, Be-Seter ha-Madregah (Jerusalem, 2013), p. 862, for a 1949 letter from Budapest to R. Yoel in which the word Sakmar is used. Shimon Steinmetz wrote to me as follows:

I think you can see by his [R. Yoel’s] correct spelling in Latin letters that he didn’t take it seriously, and perhaps not too many Jews did. After all, R. Joel Teitelbaum himself, who I think most people would consider fairly zealous, did not insist or use it very much. . . . This tells me that when people did call it Sakmar, most of them were probably just calling it that because it was already what Jews called it. Perhaps it was even a sly joke to begin with.

[5] Peti Ya’amin le-Khol Davar (n.p., 2017), p. 31

[6] Divrei Yoel, Mikhtavim, no. 90.

[7] In a future post I will publish a letter I received from Moshe Beck dealing with this point. Beck is the chief rabbi of the U.S. Neturei Karta.

[8] Translation in Heilman, Who Will Lead Us?, p. 45.

[9] The letter is found in the Israel State Archives, David Zvi Pinkas collection, 3070/15-פ.

[10] Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 17, no. 42:11.

[11] Heikhal ha-Besht 18 (Nisan 5767), p. 18. For an Arabic version of this story, see Bayit Neeman 96 (26 Tevet 5776), pp. 4-5.