In the comments, however, some took issue with the need to cite to Agnon as Agnon was ultimately citing to another work, Kol Dodi, and thus, according to some commentators, so long as Reinetz cites to the Kol Dodi it is ok. These commentators’ opinion is premised on the notion that Kol Dodi is another work. As was noted in the comments there is no such published work. Although there is no published work with that name that contains this story, there is still some abiguity as it could be Agnon was cited to an earlier work in manuscript. Now, however, we can put that all to rest and conclusively show that the only source is Agnon.

In his article, Leibowitz discusses Maimonides’ position vis-à-vis the appropriateness of scholars receiving communal funds. In doing so, Leibowitz surveys the Maimonidean sources, including the well-known statement of Maimonides in his Mishneh Torah in hilkhot Shemittah ve-Yovel. Leibowitz in his discussion of this particular source, however, appears to have made a common mistake. As this mistake has broad implications, it is necessary to set the record straight on Maimonides’ true meaning.

Leibowitz weakens his own argument by apparently not realizing that Rambam in Hilkhot Shemittah (13:13) is not talking about Jews in particular, let alone talmidei hakhamim. The passage in question is one of the clearest examples of universalism to be found in the Mishneh Torah. It may be that because that universalism goes against the grain of so much of what passes for Torah Judaism today that it is so easily missed.

Before turning to what Rambam says, let it be noted that he divided his Mishneh Torah into fourteen books. The seventh book of the fourteen is itself divided into seven sections (and is the only book divided into precisely that number of sections). This seventh section is itself divided into thirteen chapters. The thirteenth of these chapters is itself divided into thirteen paragraphs (halakhot) in the printed editions.[1] Thus, the thirteenth halakhah of the thirteenth chapter of the seventh section of the seventh book of the Mishneh Torah marks the precise mid-point of that work.

The number thirteen is, of course, significant in Judaism generally, but has special significance for Rambam. Not only did he promulgate thirteen principles of Judaism, but in “Laws of Circumcision,” 3.9 he emphasizes the fact that the word “covenant” (brit) is found precisely thirteen times in the account of Abraham’s circumcision (Gen. 17).[2]

The number seven is significant in many human societies, and not just in Judaism (Judah Halevi to the contrary – see Kuzari 2.20); according to Leo Strauss (1899-1973) it is of particular significance to Rambam.[3] I am in general no enthusiast for Straussian numerology, but this case seems too contrived not to have some significance.

Let it be further noted that for Rambam the halakhot of shemittah and yovel have messianic significance (Hilkhot Melakhim 11.1). I have proven (to my complete satisfaction at least) that according to Rambam the distinction between Jew and Gentile will lose all significance by the time the messianic era reaches fruition.[4]

So, what precisely does Rambam write in this special place in the Mishneh Torah? Here are his words:

Not only the Tribe of Levi, but each and every individual human being, whose spirit moves him and whose knowledge gives him understanding to set himself apart in order to stand before the Lord, to serve Him, to worship Him, and to know Him, who walks upright as God created him to do,[5] and releases himself from the yoke of the many foolish considerations which trouble people — such an individual is as consecrated as the Holy of Holies, and his portion and inheritance shall be in the Lord forever and ever. The Lord will grant him adequate sustenance in this world, the same as He had granted to the priests and to the Levites. Thus indeed did David, peace upon him, say, O Lord, the portion of mine inheritance and of my cup, Thou maintainest my lot (Ps. 16:5).[6]

Leibowitz translates the beginning of this passage as follows: “Not only the Tribe of Levi, but every single individual from among the world’s inhabitants whose spirit moves him…” (p. 32) and the penultimate sentence as follows: “Behold this person has been totally consecrated…” He then goes on to say:

Maimonides is not stating that this individual, who has dedicated his life to God, can rely on financial support from the community; rather Maimonides is stating that that such an individual can also sustain himself on less and will reap the benefits of heightened spirituality and increased divine assistance. (p. 33)

In an erudite footnote to this sentence Leibowitz makes it abundantly clear that he has missed a crucial point here: Rambam is not talking about Jews, be they talmidei hakhamim supported by the community or not.[7] He is talking about (unconverted) Gentiles who, through their devotion to God, become “as consecrated as the Holy of Holies.” Rambam here is talking about God’s support of all human beings who consecrate themselves; he could hardly imagine that this sentence would be turned into an argument in support of kollelim!

Why do I say this? The operative term in our passage is kol ba’ei olam. In every other place in the Mishneh Torah where Rambam uses this expression the context makes it clear that he means human beings as such, in contradistinction to Jews specifically.[8] In none of these places could the term mean proselytes or Noachides. There is no reason in the world to think that davka here Rambam had a more restrictive meaning in mind.

The expression “each and every individual human being” translates the Hebrew, kol ba’ei olam. This expression finds its classic use in a debate between the school of Rabbi Akiva, who maintained that the Torah was revealed to the Jews alone, and the school of Rabbi Ishmael, who insisted that the Torah was ultimately meant to reach kol ba’ei olam, “each and every individual human being.”[9] Here there can be no doubt but that the expression literally means all human beings (as opposed to Jews, native or converted).[10]

The expression is best-known to most contemporary Jews from a text which Rambam himself may or may not have known the liturgical poem (piyyut) unetaneh tokef.[11] The poem is based on Mishnah Rosh Ha-Shanah 1.2, which in turn is based on Ps. 38:15. It is a safe bet that most Jews who recite this passage on the yamim nora’im do not realize that the clear intent of these texts is all human beings, not Jews. Rambam, on the other hand, certainly knew it.[12]

The entire debate – ably analyzed by Rabbi Leibowitz – over whether Rambam’s statement at the end of Shemittah ve-Yovel represents a retreat from his strictures against compensation for Torah study is thus based upon a demonstrable misunderstanding of Rambam.[13]

Notes:
[1] Rambam did not number the specific halakhot in the Mishneh Torah; unfortunately for the elegance of the point I am making here, the best mss. count our halakhah as the 12th, not 13th. My thanks to Rabbi Shalomi Eldar for pointing this out to me.
[2] Isaac Abravanel discusses various other reasons for Maimonides’ use of precisely thirteen principles in Rosh Amanah chapter ten.
[3] Strauss, “How to Begin to Study the Guide of the Perplexed,” in trans. Shlomo Pines, Guide of the Perplexed (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1963), pp. xi-lvi, p. xiii. Further on the significance of the number seven in Maimonides see Joel Kraemer, “Moses Maimonides: An Intellectual Portrait,” in Kenneth Seeskin (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Maimonides (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 11-57, especially pp. 20 and 42.
[4] See my discussion in Maimonides on Judaism and the Jewish People (Albany: SUNY Press, 1991).
[5] I wonder if this expression ought to be read as an implied critique of notions of original sin? Such notions are not only native to Christianity, but also attracted a number of (post-Maimonidean, Kabbalistic) Jewish figures. For a recent study on expression of original sin in Jewish exegesis, see Alan Cooper, “A Medieval Jewish Version of Original Sin: Ephraim of Luntshits on Leviticus 12,” Harvard Theological Review 97:4 (2004): 445-460. For some studies on the notion among Jewish philosophers, see Daniel J. Lasker, “Original Sin and Its Atonement According to Hasdai Crescas,” Da’at 20 (1988): 127-35 (Hebrew), and Devorah Schechterman, “The Doctrine of Original Sin and Commentaries on Maimonides in Jewish Philosophy of the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries,” Da’at 20 (1988): 65-90 (Hebrew).
[6] I cite the translation of Isaac Klein, Book of Agriculture (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1979), p. 403.
[7] In that footnote (no. 11), Leibowitz cites medieval authorities who take Maimonides to be talking about Jews and also an essay by a Rabbi Steven Weisberg who understood Maimonides to making a point about “an elevated state of utopian existence for a God-fearing Jew, rather than an operative point of law” (emphasis added).
[8] Actually, my Bar-Ilan “responsa project” database found them; I just pushed the buttons. In any event, the places are: “Repentance,” 3.3 and 6.3,”Tefillin,” X.11, “Sanhedrin,” 12.3, and “Kings,” 8.10. See further Ya’akov Blidstein, “The Promulgation of Religion as an Aim of War in Maimonides’ Teachings,” in Avriel Bar-Levav (ed.), Shalom Vi-Milhamah Bi-Tarbut Ha-Yehudit (Jerusalem: Merkaz Zalman Shazar, 2006): 85-97 (Hebrew). On p. 86, note 7 Professor Blidstein points out that the expression is “beloved of Rambam, and he uses it to denote humanity, generally in a spiritual or cultural context.”
[9] This debate was made the subject of a penetrating study by Marc (Menachem) Hirshman, Torah Lekhol Ba’ei Olam: Zerem Universali be-Sifrut ha-Tana’im ve-Yahaso le-Hokhmat he-Amim (Torah for the Entire World: A Universalist Stream in Tannaitic Literature and its Relation to Gentile Wisdom) (Tel Aviv; Ha-Kibbutz Ha-Meuhad, 1999). The book’s main findings were presented in English in idem., “Rabbinic Universalism in the Second and Third Centuries,” Harvard Theological Review 93:2 (2000): 101-15.
[10] A scan of the one hundred ninety one citations of this expression in the Bar-Ilan Responsa Project database of rabbinic literature shows that in the vast majority of cases it means human beings simply, and in many places it is used in explicit contradistinction to Jews.
[11] For a useful discussion of what is actually known about the poem (as opposed to what we have all been taught about Rabbi Amnon), see Ivan G. Marcus, “Kiddush HaShem in Ashkenaz and the Story of Rabbi Amnon of Mainz,” in Isaiah M. Gafni and Aviezer Ravitzky (eds.), Sanctity in Life and Martyrdom: Studies in Memory of Amir Yekutiel (Jerusalem; Zalman Shazar Center for Jewish History, 1992), 131-147 (Hebrew); Menahem Shmelzer, “Sefer Or Zarua and the Legend of Rabbi Amnon,” in Adri K. Offenberg (ed.), Bibliotheca Rosenthaliana: Treasures of Jewish Booklore: Treasures of Jewish Booklore Marking the 200th Anniversary of the Birth of Leeser Rosenthal, 1794-1994 (Amsterdam University Press, 2003), available online; David Golinkin’s discussion online; as well as Jacob J. Schacter’s lecture, “U-Netaneh Tokef Kedushat Ha-Yom: Medieval Story and Modern Significance” (sources [PDF]).
[12] My latest book is an extended discussion of the implications of Rambam’s universalism. See Maimonides’ Confrontation With Mysticism (Oxford: Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2006).
[13] For a very important discussion of the historical background to Rambam’s attack on Torah scholars who accept community funds in his commentary on Avot, see Mordechai A. Friedman, “Rambam, Zuta, and the Muqaddams: A Story of Three Bans,” Zion 70 (2005): 473-528 (Hebrew). This article supports Rabbi Leibowitz’s overall point by showing the specific historical back ground to Rambam’s spirited attack on those who accept (let alone demand) money for Torah study. On the subject in general I would also like to draw attention to: Ephraim Kanarfogel, “Compensation for the Study of Torah in Medieval Rabbinic Thought,” in Ruth Link-Salinger (ed.), Of Scholars, Savants, and Their Texts: Studies in Philosophy and Religious Thought: Essays in Honor of Arthur Hyman (New York: Peter Lang, 1989), 135-47.

As previously mentioned on the Seforim blog by myself and others, our generation is privileged to something no previous generation has seen, a sheer volume of Jewish books being printed and reprinted. Many of these works are seeing print for the first time – works of Rishonim and Achronim on all sorts of topics brought to the public eye from manuscript form. Some of these printings are beautiful editions, critically edited, and even glossed with illuminating marginal annotations. Other times the only benefit is to see the change from an illegible typeface to a clear block print (oft as not without any particular in the editing). In many cases, specific institutions are founded solely to deal with works from a particular religious group, while at other times, entire publishing houses are established that deal with the writings of one particular author. Recently one Godol, the great prolific writer, the Aderet (Rabbi Eliyahu David Rabinowitz-Teomim), famous for, amongst many things, being the father-in-law of R Kook, has had over five distinct groups working on printing his writings although almost none of his writings were published in his lifetime.

Recently, a rather modest institute called Makhon Iyay HaYam has begun reprinting as well as publishing for the first time, the many writings of the great gaon R. Shelomoh Luria, Maharshal. To date, this Makhon has already printed a few of his works and is currently working on many more. In this post, I would like to discuss this great person, the Maharshal, some of his printed works, and the current and future projects of this particular Makhon. As much has already been written on this great goan, including several biographical sketches, as well as a dissertation by Dr. Meir Raffeld on the Maharshal’s magnum opus, Yam Shel Shelomoh (more later), I have limited myself to but a few highlights.

The Maharshal was born circa 1510 (most likely in the city of Brisk or Posen), and died in 1573 in Lublin. He was a Rav in many cities, including Brisk,[1] Ostra and Lublin.[2] Alongside the rabbinate, the Maharshal established and ran yeshivot, training many famous students. Amongst these students are, notably, R. Yehoshuah Falk Katz (author of the Preisha), R. Moshe Meis (author of Mateh Moshe on minhagim as well as Hoel Moshe on Rashi; more on him later), R. Shelomoh Efrayim Lunschitz (author of the Kli Yakar), R. Chayim of Friedberg (author of Sefer HaChayim and brother of the famous Maharal of Prague), and R. Eliyahu of Chelm (the great-great-grandfather of the Hakham Zvi and Rabbi Jacob Emden, famous for being the only latter day Godol to have created a documented golem (see here for Prof. Shnayer Z. Leiman’s post, “Did a Disciple of the Maharal Create a Golem?” at the Seforim blog) all studied in the Maharshal’s Yeshiva. As an historical aside, it is worth pointing out that in the biography printed by R. Chechik, Sefer Chasdei Hashem (Yerushalayim, 5767, pg. 3), R. Chechik makes the claim that the major talmidim of the Maharshal studied in his yeshiva in Lublin. This appears highly implausible as the Maharshal only came to Lublin in 1569, and by then most of his talmidim were already accomplished poskim. More likely these students studied in one of the Yeshivot the Maharshal headed prior to the Maharshal’s Yeshiva in Lublin.

R. Shelomoh Luria was a contemporary of and related to R. Moshe Isserles, the Rama. In his Maalot Hayuchsin (Yerushalayim, 5764), p. 15, R. Efraim Zalman Margolis traces the various ways in which the Rama and the Maharshal were related. Among those was through the marriage of Maharshal’s daughter Miriam to Rama’s brother Eliezer. Additionally, these two Gedolim carried on extensive correspondence between themselves, some taking a rather sharp tone (most noted are those letters regarding the study of philosophy and dikduk). Yet, as R. Efraim Zalman Margolis notes, the utmost respect and esteem was maintained between the two. In fact, they seem to have been keenly interested in the other’s works, there is evidence that they read the other’s work prior to publication. (See Klilas Yoffe p. 9b and Maalot Hayuchsin of R. Efraim Zalman Margolis, pp. 27-28.) [3]

While both the Rama and the Maharshal were well respected and many of the Poskim of that generation were the Maharsha’s students, in a choice between the two regarding how to decide halakha, the Rama is the clear winner. The Shelah HaKadosh, however, bemoans the fact the Maharshal’s decisions were not accepted. This is so as the Maharshal followed the Rama (i.e. the Maharshal died later) and, as such, should have been awarded consenting rulings out of principle (halachisha k’basrayi). As a result, the Shelah HaKadosh calls upon those who fear Hashem to take upon themselves all stringent dissenting opinions of the Maharshal in opposition to the Rama (Shnei Luchot HaBrit, Shaar Ha’Otiyot, #100, Kedushah).

The Maharshal is well-known for his caustic tone in his writings. Many biographers note his use of rather sharp epithets in his works concerning other Gedolim. R. Chaim Dembitzer cites many instances where the Maharshal writes sharply against various Rishonim (Klilas Yoffe p. 11). But, some have questioned the focus on the Maharshal’s tone. For instance, Shmuel Abba Horedesky, who authored a biography on the Maharshal, Kerem Shlomo, included a discussion of the Maharshal’s caustic tone. Horedesky sent his book to the Sdei Chemed, and in a recently published letter, the Sdei Chemed sharply critiques Horedesky’s inclusion of that portion on the Maharshal.[4] (Dr. M. Raffeld, in his dissertation also bemoans the misguided focus of previous historians at these caustic remarks instead of researching the more unknown eras of the Maharshal’s life).

Aside from his goanus, the Maharshal was an extremely prolific writer, writing on many areas. Some of his more famous works include an outstanding work on Shas called Yam Shel Shelomoh. For itself, the work is pretty well known, unfortunately it is not used to its full potential in today’s yeshivah world (this due to many reasons, most importantly the current mahalach halimud) although of late it has been reprinted in a nice block print edition. The style of the Yam Shel Shelomoh is oriented toward halakha. Typically, each topic is examined systematically from its beginning sources, through the Rishonim and through (the then) current minhag (see further Dr. M. Raffeld). This work has not reached us in its entirety, as parts are missing from those mesechtos present. Furthermore, it is clear from many places in his writings as well as quotes from his talmdim that he wrote more than what we have. (To date we have volumes on seven masekhtot, but according to various sources, the Maharshal wrote on sixteen masekhtot. Dr. Raffeld attempts to construct a list of the remaining nine; not all agree to this listing and several substitutes have been suggested). I seem to recall that recently they discovered the volume of Yam Shel Shelomoh on masekhet Baba Batra, but the collector who owns it does not allow anyone to print it and is only willing to sell it for a very large sum of money. Likewise, rumors of Yam Shel Shelomoh on masekhet Shabbat have been circulating among professional circles, without any concrete evidence.

In addition to the Yam Shel Shelomoh on the Gemara, the Maharshal penned many other notes on many masekhtot, dealing with, among his personal novella, the correct girsa’ot of the Gemara. Known today as Hagahot Hokhmat Shelomoh, this work was originally printed as a separate volume. Present-day editions of Gemara find some of the comments having added into the text of the Gemara and Rashi over time, and the authorship erased along with the original gloss. The remaining glosses are printed in the back of almost all recent editions of the Gemara. In his editing, the Maharshal used old manuscripts, as well as variant texts. In a lengthy article in Alei Sefer, vol. 15, Y. Ron deals with this work. Later on Professor Yaakov Shmuel Spiegel dealt with this work in his classic Amudim be-Toldot ha-Sefer ha-Ivry, Hagot u-Maghim (pp. 279-285). Hokhmat Shelomoh on Masekhet Gitten has been recently reprinted by R. Y. Satz, (Toronto: Otzreinu, 1990). The foreword includes a detailed article elaborating on the need to reprint this work, basing the glosses on the exact comments of the Gemara used by the Maharshal. Large amounts of the glosses have been deleted by editors who mistakenly attributed them to lines already corrected, while in fact the Maharshal had another point in mind.

A partial list of the Maharshal’s other famous works include Teshuvot Maharshal, responsa quoted by all poskim; glosses on Rashi al haTorah called Yerios Shlomo, reprinted several times of late; glosses to Sefer Shaarey Dura by R. Yitzhak of Duren called Ateret Shelomoh. He also wrote glosses on the Sefer haMitzvot haGadol (SMaG) by R. Moshe of Coucy, called Amudei Shelomoh. Makhon Yerushalayim has issued a critical edition of this work, in three volumes, based on manuscripts and first prints, replete with footnotes by R. Yosef Luban. In addition to stand-alone volumes, the Makhon has also included the Maharshal’s valuable glosses in their critical edition of the Sefer haMitzvot haGadol.

Now for the works printed by Makhon Iyay HaYam:

As previously mentioned, the Maharshal routinely wrote marginal notes on a vast number of seforim. Of the most popular, were his glosses on the side of the Tur. In large, these notes are quoted by his talmid, R. Yehoshua Falk Katz, the Preisha, as well as the Bach (Sefer Bayit Chodosh) and many other Poskim, but until this century, these notes were never printed. In 1957, the editors of Tur Hotzaat ‘El Hamikoros’ commissioned R. S. Werner to ‘liberate’ these notes from manuscript ‘captivity,’ allowing for a tremendous find for the halakhic world. Unfortunately, thirty simanim in Yoreh Deah were lost from the copyist, and were listed as missing in the manuscript. In 1995, R. A. Chavatzelet published these simanim in a Sefer Zikaron for R. Werner, with the intention of completing the sefer on Yoreh Deah.

While researching another work, R. Y. M. Dubovick found citations to glosses not printed in R. Chavazelet’s addendum. Further perusal revealed the existence of more manuscripts in libraries worldwide that R. Werner was unaware of, and of which R. Chavatzelet had not availed himself. With more accurate texts, and numerous additional pieces not found in the manuscripts R. Werner had been given, it was clear of the need to edit the hagahot from the beginning. R. Dubovick decided to print this whole work again with all the corrections and missing pieces. First, R. Dubovick published an expository article in the journal Yeshurun (vol. 11) listing many missing parts on Yoreh Deah. In 2000, he issued a limited printing of the hagahot on Even HaEzer (including hagahot on the last ten simanim, a notable lack in R. Werner’s edition). More recently, he released a critical print of the first sixty simanim of Tur, Yoreh Deah with footnotes, surrounding the text of the Tur (Crimea, 1558) as used by the Maharshal. Therein, he references all the relevant writings of the Maharshal and his talmidim to the glosses on the Tur, as well as citations of these glosses by the poskim.

R. Dubovick intends to conclude the rest of Yoreh Deah in the near future and deal with Orah Hayyim and Hoshen Mishpat next, and finally, a reissue of Even HaEzer.

The focus of this recent volume on Yoreh Deah is the Sefer Ateret Shelomoh a commentary on the Shechitos u’Bedikos of R. Yaakov Weil, the hagahot on Tur an addendum to this rare work. As little as less than a hundred years ago every shochet had been tested specifically on this work, and virtually every small-town rav had to be an expert in this area as well. Many of the she’elot presented to a local rav were on these very topics and could not be referred to another Rav, as by than the animal would spoil. Nowadays, a shochet is tested on Sefer Beit David (R. David Tschechovitz), and unfortunately, the shechitot and bedikot of R. Yaakov Weil are almost unknown by anyone today, save for the occasional excerpt in other seforim.

Seeing how this valuable work has not been reprinted with the Maharshal’s notes in the past 400 years, Makhon Iyay HaYam recently undertook this project to enrich the public with yet another one of the Maharshal’s many invaluable works, reprinting the text based on the only two printings, and a manuscript fragment. R. Dubovick set himself to the task, painstakingly annotating along the way with extremely thorough notes on the entire sefer. Albeit some times his notes are a bit lengthy, there is a wealth of singular information contained in them, both on the halakhic field as well as the bio-bibliographic, which the editor could not deny the public, and did not omit them from print. A few examples; when the Maharshal quotes his grandfather, R. Yitzchok Klauber, noted are many of the places where the Maharshal cites his grandfather, throughout his many seforim (p. 3, n.6), along with a brief biographical sketch. [5] The same style note can be found when the Maharshal mentions his father-in-law R. Kalonymus (Kalman) Havarkstein-Yerushalmi; a listing of other citations, along with a thumbnail bio, including the Maharshal’s wife’s name (p. 38, n.28). With an eye on the halakhic ramifications of reprinting this sefer, R Dubovick notes that R. Efraim Zalman Margolis highlighted the importance of studying this sefer for those learning shechita, and yet, due to the sefer having been published as an addendum to the sefer, Sha’arei Dura, and not having a distinct title page from the Sha’rei Dura, remained unknown. (Introduction to Ateres Shlomo, see also Ma’alos haYhuchsin, p. 35) Additionally, regarding R. Efraim Zalman’s work on treifus in lungs (Rosh Efraim), R. Efraim Zalman states that Shechitot u’Bedikot were written last, even after Yam Shel Shelomoh, and the Halakha should be fixed accordingly, even against a dissenting opinion in Yam Shel Shelomoh (p. 38, n.27). In addition, he includes interesting sources to the practice of watering cattle before shechita (p. 55, n.92), as well as bringing to light a fascinating source to the puzzling minhag of peeling off sirchos (lesions) from the lung (p. 64, n.129).

The Maharshal’s extreme regard for maintaining minhagei Ashkenaz and their halakhic impact are spread throughout both his and his talmidim’s many writings. One can especially find this true with regard to R. Moshe Meis’ classic work Mateh Moshe. A while back, a manuscript was discovered of some minhaghim of the Maharshal called Hanhagot HaMaharshal. Dr. Y. Refael printed this work in a Sefer Hayovel and then later on as a separate pamphlet. These minhagim were written anonymously, and the editor attributes them to R. Moshe Meis, author of Mateh Moshe, and known to have been a personal member of the household of his teacher, R. Shelomoh Luria. As these minhagim do not cover the whole year, Dr. Refael concludes that the text is only a segment of a much larger work, which had unfortunately been lost. Interestingly enough, R. Shmuel Ashkenazi told me recently he did all the work in annotating this sefer and preparing it for print, although for some reason he wasn’t credited for it. (While this edition was printed from a manuscript, copied expressly for R. Nachum Ber Friedman of Sadigura (Areshet, vol. 1 397-98), there is another, variant edition, printed in the back of some copies of Nagid uMitzaveh (Sinai, vol. 63, p. 96)).

Among the interesting minhagim included in here is: [6]

Also, the Maharshal discusses the Shir HaYichud, and offers a rather radical explanation of who the author of Shir HaYichud was: [7]

Similarly, in the Siddur Siddur Shabtei Sofer, vol. 1 pp. 89-90, R. Shabtei records in the name of the Maharshal:

Another rather unknown work of the Maharshal, is his Zemirot for Shabbat. While this work has been printed many times, not one of these editions has been reprinted based on the first printing and manuscript and many of the modern printings have actually detracted from the sefer’s integrity. This rare sefer is comprised of songs the Maharshal composed for Shabbat and Motzei Shabbat, with the author’s commentary to those songs. Included in his explanations are many halakhot and minhagim of Shabbat. Some examples of which are; women should wear a special garment when lighting the Shabbos candles; a reference to the custom of wearing a kittel on Shabbos. Another example, he praises the people of Ashkenaz for having a set system with regard to hosting yeshiva students for Shabbat meals. (Interestingly enough, while Prof. Simha Assaf mentions this minhag in his biographical sketch of the Maharshal printed in Sefer haYovel Lichvod Prof. L. Ginzburg, he makes no note of it in his Mekorot LeToldot HaChinuch biYisrael, even though he does mention several other sources to this custom pp. 229, 236, 633). [8]

Here too, R. Dubovick is working on reprinting these zemirot, along with an excellent commentary of his own on this work. A few samples of his efforts have been published in the journal Yeshurun (vol. 16). Here, I was simply amazed at the sources and comments of R. Dubovick regarding the various points of the Maharshal. One only hopes he will finish this work soon along with all his many projects relating to the Maharshal.

Notes:
I would like to thank R Y. M. Dubovick and Dan Rabinowitz in for their extremely helpful suggestions and sources in writing this post.

[1] On the Maharshal’s tenure in Brisk see the letter of R. Nosson Rabinovitch (author of Dikdukei Sofrim) in Eyur Tehilah p. 198.

[2] On the Maharshal’s time in Lublin, see the story brought in Simchas Hanefesh (see here for an earlier post, “Simchat ha-Nefesh: An Important But Often Ignored Work on German Jewish Customs,” at the Seforim blog) from R Yehudah Chassid pg 109-110. A similar story is quoted by the Chida in Shem haGedolim, erech R Avrhoum Mocher Yerokos.

[3] For a recent lengthy discussion of these correspondences, see Y. Elbaum in his Pisichut Vehistagrot (pg 156 and onwards), as well Dr. Asher Siev’s biography of the Rama (1972). For the exchange of letters between Rama and Maharshal on philosophy, as part of the appendix of translations of primary texts from 16th-century East-European Jewish Thought, see Leonard Levin, “Seeing With Both Eyes: The Intellectual Formation of Ephraim Luntshitz,” (Ph.D., Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 2003), 299-284, esp. 299-311.

[4] On the caustic comments of the Maharshal see Iggerot S’dei Chemed, vol. 1, siman 11, pp. 24-25; see also R. Barukh haLevi Epstein, Mekor Barukh, Introduction, pp. 89-93.

[5] For more on the Maharshal’s grandfather see M. Rafeld, in Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisrael (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 2007), 8:174-96.

[6] For more on Ani Manmin see HaSiddur, pp. 232-36; Marc B. Shapiro, The Limits of Orthodox Theology: Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles Reappraised (Oxford: Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2004), pp. 19-20 (citing opinion of the Maharshal).

[7] For more on this topic see: A. Berliner, Kesavim Nevcharim, vol 1 pg 145-170; R. Dovid Hanazir , Kol Haneveha pgs 124, 143-144; H.J. Zimmels, Askenazim and Sephardim, pp. 132-134; A Haberman, Shiur Hayichud Vhakovod (intro), Y. Dan, Shiur Hayichud (facsimile edition) with the commentary of R. Yom Tov Muelhausem, Introduction; R.Y. Stal, Sefer Gematryios L’Rabenu Yehudah Hachassid, vol 1 pg 32-38; R. Y. Golhaver Minhaghei Hakehlos, vol 1 p. 132: and my forthcoming article in the Yerushasenu volume two.

[8] Another person who missed this source while discussing this topic is Mordechai Breuer, in his comprehensive book on the Yeshivot, Oholei Torah: The Yeshiva, Its Structure and History (Merkaz Zalman Shazar 2003), pp. 405-409.

As Rabbi Eliezer Brodt has recently noted in a post at the Seforim blog the advent of the sabbatical year has been blessed with a plethora of new books and pamphlets related to the laws of shemitah.

Prominent amongst these is a publication entitled Kitvei Ma’adanei Eretz on Masechet Shevi’it, from the writings of the world renowned halachic authority, Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach (1910-1995), published by Zehav haAretz on the “eve of the shemitah year, 5768”.

The sefer (341 pages) is divided into two parts. The first part is arranged according to the order of Masechet Shevi’it and presented as a commentary on it. The second half is comprised of a series of chapters on a broad variety of halachic topics related to shemitah.

In the preface we are told that the editors received much support and encouragement from Rabbi Shlomo Zalman’s sons, including Rabbi Shmuel Auerbach shlit”a. We also learn that much of the material in the sefer was never intended for publication by Rabbi Shlomo Zalman. [It was often written in note-form for his own perusal etc.] Nevertheless, given the enormous interest in the writings of Rabbi Auerbach, it was decided that these chiddushim should be edited and published. This feat was accomplished to the delight of the publishers and their intended audience.[1]

For the sake of producing a comprehensive work the publishers inform us that they have included segments of the author’s previously published works that relate to the Masechet Shevi’it and its halachot.

Indeed, the second half of the sefer, which consits of chiddushim on Rambam and halachic discussions pertaining to shemittah, appears to have been gleaned almost entirely from Rabbi Shlomo Zalman’s earlier works, most particularly his Ma’adanei Eretz on the laws of shevi’it.

However the publication of this sefer raises two related bibliographical questions: (a) Rabbi Auerbach’s classic on Shevi’it, namely his celebrated Ma’adanei Eretz, published originally by the author himself in anticipation of the shemitah year 5704,[2] and republished with the blessing of the author in anticipation of the shemitah year 5733, has been out of print and unavailable for many years.[3] Why has this book not yet been re-published? (b) Why has only some, but not all of the material in the original Ma’adanei Eretz been reproduced in Kitvei Ma’adanei Eretz?

I cannot offer a definitive answer to these questions. Yet it is possible that two features of the original work are the cause for these ‘omissions’.

Firstly, the original Ma’adanei Eretz dedicates much discussion to the ‘heter mechirah’ and its dynamics. Although Rabbi Auerbach clearly expresses a preference for the observance of shemitah without recourse to the heter mechirah, he does recognise the plausibility of the ‘heter mechirah’ and seeks to buttress this mechanism with halachic argumentation. Moreover, (as is evident from his introduction), Rabbi Auerbach’s defense of the ‘heter mechirah’ – which he considered to have been endorsed by ‘minhag yisroel’ – was one of the primary purposes of his work.[4]

In times bygone, this apect of Ma’adanei Eretz apparently presented no cause for concern, even amongst the most chareidi Jews. Rabbi Zelig Reuven Bengis (1864-1953), then Rosh Beth Din of the ultra-Orthodox Edah Chareidit in Jerusalem, was aware of Rabbi Auerbach’s ‘agenda’ (towards which he was not particularly sympathetic), yet this did not prevent him from writing a complimentary letter of approbation in honour of the author and the book.[5] The same is true for Rabbi Isser Zalman Meltzer, (1870-1953), then rosh yeshiva of the Etz Chaim yeshivah in Jeruslaem. Yet nowadays this is no longer the case. Some of Rabbi Auerbach’s biological and/or ‘spiritual’ heirs who completely deny the validity of the heter mechirah and/or its application in the contemporary social and economic climate, may be deeply embarrassed by the original Ma’adanei Eretz.

Secondly, Rabbi Auerbach refers with the most reverential terms to the late Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak haKohen Kook (1865-1935), and attributes much weight to his halakhic opinions.[6] In contradistinction to many other illustrious authorities to whom Rabbi Auerbach refers to as “ha-gaon . . . of blessed memory’ his appellation for Rav Kook includes the honorific “maran [ha-gaon ha-Rav Kook of blessed memory].”[7]

In today’s ultra-orthodox climate, in which Rav Kook has almost been written out of existence[8] [or worse still, ‘demonised’], it should come as no great surprise that some would like to disassociate the prestigious Rabbi Auerbach from one of his primary mentors.[9] Accordingly, it is only natural that they would endeavour to orchestrate matters in such a way that the original Ma’adanei Eretz (with its ‘offensive’ contents) fades into oblivion.[10]

An examination of the ‘privileged’ segments of the original Ma’adanei Eretz that have been ‘preserved’ in the Kitvei Ma’adanei Eretz supports my thesis. Rav Kook, whose views and vision clearly inspired Rabbi Auerbach, has been wiped off the face of the map. Likewise the heter mechirah, a central feature of the original work, has, for all practical intents and purposes, become a non-issue in the new work.[11]

In a world in which honesty means little and history means even less, Kitvei Ma’adanei Eretz has performed a successful face-saving tactic, for ‘what the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve’! [12]

Notes:
[1] The publication of this sefer seems to be in partial overlap with “Minchat Shlomo – Chiddusim uViurim al HaShas” on Masechet Shevi’it which was published by Rabbi Auerbach’s sons in Jerusalem, 5761.

[3] A number of years ago I was fortunate enough to be able to find and purchase a somewhat worse for wear copy of Ma’adanei Eretz in a second hand seforim store in New York.

[8] Thus, for example, the Sefer HaMafteiach in the Frankel edition of the Rambam does not include any references to the chiddushim of Rav Kook on the Mishneh Torah. Present day works on shemitah rarely include the contributions of Rav Kook (even with regard to matters unrelated to the heter mechirah). Needles to say, Rabbi Chaim Kanievski’s Derech Emunah on Rambam’s Sefer Zeraim (inc. Shemitah veYovel) does not refer to Shabbat HaAretz etc.
Rav Kook’s haskamah that was, in his heyday, often the crown of glory on many seforim is now viewed with derision by many, and has even been ‘removed’ from later editions of the same works (sometimes, apparently, by the author himself!).

[9] Recent explorations into Rav Kook’s (heretofore) esoteric thought may add to the evident anxiety that exists in certain circles regarding the relationship between Rav Kook and Rav Auerbach. [See Avinoam Rosenak, “Hidden Diaries and New Discoveries: the Life and Thought of Rabbi A.I. Kook,” Shofar: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Jewish Studies 25:3 (Spring 2007): 111-147. See also his review article, “Who’s Afraid of Secret Writings? Eight Files from the Manuscripts of Rabbi Kook,” Tarbiz 9:2 (2000): 257–291]. Most recently, see Yehudah Mirsky, “An Intellectual and Spiritual Biography of Rabbi Avraham Yitzhaq Ha-Cohen Kook from 1865 to 1904,” (PhD dissertation, Harvard University, 2007), esp. 450-485.

[10] In the course of time we may yet witness the birth of reports to the effect that Rabbi Auerbach (and/or: the Rabbis who gave their glowing haskamot) regretted ever having published (written approbations for) his Ma’adanei Eretz. Clearly Rabbi Auerbach’s regret will have to have been expressed ‘be-sof yamav’, since in 1972/5732 he was evidently still enthusiastic about the project.

[12] The purpose of this article was to explore one example of a particular trend in contemporary rabbinic censorship. It was not written in order to express a view on, or assess the virtues of, the heter mechirah or its proponents. [Whilst this is totally irrelevant (at least to the subject matter at hand), I will attempt to save the time of many potential speculators by putting on record that I personally do not rely on the heter mechirah. The Lubavitcher Rebbe zy”a, whose rulings I attempt to follow, was far from enthusiastic about the heter mechirah and encouraged all Jews to observe the shemitah without recourse to the heter mechirah].

Previously, I had attempted to reconstruct when Finkelstein had published his seforim and thus deduce that Finkelstein copied the Mekore Minahgim. Now, through internal evidence I can further bolster that theory and, perhaps, explain exactly what happened. Additionally, I hope to demonstrate that although Finkelstein copied, he was unaware the work Mekore Minhagim had ever been published. As one “fact” that supports Finkelstein’s position is that if he did merely copy why does his edition only have 41 entries, how hard would it have been to copy the others? This is so, as Lewyson’s was printed first with 100 entries and Finkelstein’s was printed close to five years after Lewyson’s.

In the earlier edition by Lewyson (the Dr./Rabbi in Germany) (henceforth ML) there are more entries than in the later edition by Finkelstein (“MF”). Now if Finkelstein had copied why did he leave out so many? If you recall, Finkelstein explained how he got this book and really it is his although he published later. Finkelstein explained that while his edition was published later, really he wrote it first. Finkelstein said that while he was traveling he stayed with Lewyson and Lewyson saw a copy of the manuscript and asked to borrow it. According to Finkelstein it was at that time Lewyson copied Finkelstein’s manuscript. Thus, although ML was published first really MF was written first.

As I said, if that was the case, isn’t at the very least Lewyson a bigger Talmid Chochom as in ML there are 100 question and answers while MF only has 41 of the 100? This of course assumes that Finkelstein told the story correctly but I think there is some truth in the story the story is actually slightly and materially different.

The real story was Finkelstein did in fact travel through Germany and did stay at Lewyson’s house. But, it was Finkelstein that at that time saw Lewyson’s manuscript and copied it then. Unlucky for Finkelstein, Lewyson had not finished thus Finkelstein only took what he had (or perhaps ran out of time to copy it).

This theory is I think provable. While 41 of the 100 appear in both works, even those there are slight differences. The differences point to an earlier or rougher draft of the work.
Let’s take a couple of examples. in no. 16 of ML (and in no. 11 in MF) the question is why do we sell Mitzvot in shul during the week and on Shabbat. In both ML and MF both have a vort on the verse Isaih 29:13, in fact the very same explanations appears in both. The only difference is in the ML he tells us where this comes from the Misphat Tzedek, while in the MF that is missing. Or later the ML says that something appears in the Sefer Shushan HaEdut and the Sefer Haradim and he has it as follows

Now in MF we have it like this:

That is it, the author expects you will know where in the obscure sefer Shushan Edut this appears and what it says. Obviously, no author would do that, instead, in a rough draft not everything had been filled in. Or, another possibility is in the haste to copy some of the content got lost.

Another example from the same siman. The author is explaining a further reason to do away with selling the mitzvot is due to the fights that arise over the selling.
In the ML he says

while in the MF it only reads
בפרט כבר בימיהם נסתעפו מחלוקות ע”י מכירת המצות עיין בס’ חסידים ובמהר”י קולון מה שאירע מזה

So although the Mahri Kolon appears in the Bet Yosef, all MF has is see Mahri Kolon (nor does it include where in the Sefer Hassidim or the quote). Again, it is missing any hint to where this is located, and unlike the ML where the text is included and thus it is less necessary to include a citation, in MF the text doesn’t appear.

Lest one say this is limited to that single entry, a similar pattern appears in other entries as well. For instance, in the entry discussing spitting during the Alenu prayer. Both editions have a quote from the sefer Teffilah Nehora, however, the ML (no. 20) edition includes more of the quote and then additionally has one more source the Kitzur Shelah. In the MF edition (no. 13), however, a shorter quote from the Teffilah Nehora appears and there is no Kitzur Shelah. Now, if Lewyson is the copier, why would he include a bit more of a quote? But, if the shorter quote was a product of an earlier unfinished draft it is understandable.

In entry no. 23 (ML) and 16 (MF) ML has a three part quote from Sefer Hassidim, while MF has only the first part.

now in MF (no. 17) it reads like this

the והוא is lacking a predicate in this version.

Again, all these examples, and there are additional examples of shorter quotes, missing citations, missing lines, are found in MF. [1] Assuming Finkelstein’s story is correct, how was it that Lewyson was magically able to add all the missing citations, and in some cases add additional material, when Lewyson was unable to come up with part of 41 of the entries on his own? And, if Finkelstein was the author why couldn’t he fill in the citations? Didn’t he know them as he was providing the sources to begin with?

Moreover, it seems that Finkelstein did not in fact copy from the printed ML. As if Finkelstein had the printed edition why are all these omissions found in his edition? Instead, Finkelstein must have only had access to a slightly different edition, and based upon Finkelstein’s own story, it seems that he saw it in Lewyson’s house and thus it must have been an earlier draft.

Note

[1] Compare for example MF (no. 14) with ML (no. 21). ML contains an entire extra section. Furthermore, even in the part that does appear in MF, it is lacking significant portions. As in ML it has quotes from Rabbenu Bachya and Eliayahu Zuta and then a quote from Hechel HaKodesh. Whereas in MF on the Hechel HaKodesh appears.

Compare MF (no. 16) with ML (no. 23). Both discuss whether on Yom Tov a woman first lights or first makes the blessing on the candles. They cite the wife of the author of the Sema
in ML it states:

now in MF it says:

so it is missing the Mishpat Tzedek.
Compare MF (no. 24) with ML (no. 85). ML contains about four times the amount of content.
Compare MF (no. 37) with ML (no. 40) again missing significant parts.

Compare MF (no. 38) with ML (no. 42). In this case some citations are missing in Finkelstein (see the discussion of the Chok Ya’akov) as well as the material regarding waiting 6 hours and whether it means a full 6 or something else.

Compare MF (no. 32) to ML (no. 5). ML has triple the material.

Compare MF (no. 5) to ML (no. 8) the additions and missing portions are rather clear.