R. Yehuda Hachasid & Natural Phenomenon: A Review of Amaros Tehoros

In Kovetz al Yad (new series), volume 12, Professor Y. Ta-Shma published, for the first time from manuscript, a small kuntres of R. Yehuda Hachasid, that he titled Zecher Asa Lenifleosav. More recently, this article was reprinted and included in Ta-Shema’s collected writings, Kenesset Mekharim, (vol. 1, chap. 14). Two years ago, R. Yaakov Stal decided to turn this small pamphlet in to a beautifully edited book. He turned the work into a 517 page sefer!

Professor Ta-Shma, for the most part, printed the text almost as is, and did not add citations for the statements of R. Yehuda Hachasid. Furthermore, Ta-Shema included only a brief introduction to this work (which in general is not like him, as I will elaborate in an upcoming post). R. Stal, however, in his work on Chasedei Ashkenaz in general and more specifically R. Yehudah Hachasid, decided to reissue this work in a proper critical edition.

First, R. Stal shows that the name of the sefer is really Amaros Tehoros Chizionis U’Pnemeis. Additionally, R. Stal went out of his way to research all the statements in this work and show parallels to other works of Chasidei Ashkenaz. He includes very lengthy notes to all the statements in this work. Moreover, R. Stal shows that there were many inaccurate readings of the actual words in the text by Ta-Shma. The end result is an excellent scientific edition of this sefer by R. Yehuda Hachasid.

This sefer is heavily influenced by R. Sa’adia Gaon’s haEmunah V’Deos. It is worth pointing out that R’ Yehuda Hachasid and the other Chasidei Ashkenaz had a different translation of this work than the standard ibn Tibbon translation of haEmunah V’Deos. This alternative translation has only recently been found by R.C. Kiener that he published in his PhD dissertation, The Hebrew Paraphrase of Saadia Gaon’s Kitab Al-amanat Wa’l-Ictiqadat (Penn. 1984) [according to Kiener’s website, he is working on a critical edition of haEmunah V’Deos]. [1] R. Stal highlights R. Sa’adia’s influence throughout the sefer and note the important distinctions between the two translations of the haEmunah v’Deos and its effect on R. Yehuda Hachasid’s work.

Turning now to the content of Amaros Tehoros. The main theme of the sefer is to explain difficult philosophical concepts and to do so the sefer uses items appearing naturally to explain the supernatural. Consequently, the sefer is full of topics relating to nature, how the world works, and animals. There is much about the topic of nevuah, and many topics relating to and about malachim. For example, R. Y. Hachasid writes everyone knows that Hashem is everywhere, but that’s incomprehensible. To help understand it, he gives the example of a magnet. A magnet has a force that we can’t see but everyone knows that hat force is there. This can help us understand a bit the concept that Hashem is everywhere even though we can’t see Him (pp. 6-7).

Another example of utilizing everyday occurrences to explain otherwise incomprehensible topics is a discussion of how Hashem knows the future. R. Yehuda Hachasid says that we can understand this from the fact that people sometimes see the future in their dreams (p. 33).

Or, the question of how the world was able to be created in six days, when a pregnancy takes nine months so the creation should have taken much longer. R. Yehuda Hachasid points to the fact that there are certain things are able to grow overnight, for example, certain mushrooms so the power exists to create fast and god has that power (pp. 36-37).

This work is the first mention of the compass in Jewish sources, again this mundane phenomena is used to show more complex notions. Specifically, R. Y. Hachasid writes:

Aside from the focus on explaining philosophical questions, the work contains other interesting points as well. For instance, R. Yehuda Hachasid says some interesting things about a pregnancy of triplets (pp. 50 -51):

On this topic R. Stal brings a wide range of sources about twins and triplets and whether or not such a pregnancy is a good or bad sign (pp. 371-388).

R. Y. Hachasid mentions the using of a sword to protect one from Demons by going around the bed with it. Here R. Stal includes many sources for this which was done especially by the bed of a woman who just gave birth (pp. 176- 178).

R. Y. Hachasid discusses and rejects the notion that a person can think two different thoughts simultaneously. (p.11). R. Stal, however, provides an excellent collection of sources that document many gedolim who were able to think two thoughts at the same time ( pp.304-312).

As R. Yehuda Hachasid mentions many unique ideas, R. Stal includes a 200 page section with lengthy articles about many of these topics. For example, R. Yehuda Hachasid discusses how many colors exist. R. Stal includes a chapter discussing the differences of opinion from early Jewish sources about the number of colors. R. Y. Hachasid has a discussion about magnets so R. Stal has a whole article on the topic of magnet from many sources – how it works, what the point is, etc. As mentioned above, this work is the first Jewish reference to a compass, so R. Stal includes a chapter from early Jewish sources about the compass and how it works, even getting into a discussion of the Bermuda triangle. R. Y. Hachasid mentions the famous Even Takumah, again, R. Stal includes a chapter on this to. R. Stal includes an excellent chapter on the topic of lengthy pregnancies – more than nine months and some as long as fourteen and fifteen months such as Yitzchak and Yissacar.

In sum, this work is great for anyone interested in philosophy, nature or a plain old real interesting read from a great rishon.

In the U.S. the book is available at Beigeleisen Books.

Note
[1] See also Kiener’s article, “The Hebrew Paraphrase of Sa’adia Gaon’s Kitab al-Amanat Wa’l-I’tiqadat,” AJS Review, Vol. 11, No. 1, (Spring, 1986), pp. 1-25.

“A man enters synagogue on Yom Kippur with his dog and tells the gabbai this is a very smart dog, he can talk. “If he will talk for you,” says the man, “will you let him sit next to me?” The gabbai says “let’s hear him.” Man turns to dog and says what is on top of this building which keeps the rain out? the dog says ruf ruf. The guy says see he said it was a roof. But if you are not satisfied with that, I will have him answer another question. He says to the dog, who was the most famous baseball player of all time? Dog says ruf ruf. Man says see he said Babe Ruth. The gabbai throws man and dog out. Dog looks up at the man and says, “Should I have said Willie Mays?”

— Jewish Joke

I thought it may be instructive to examine what Judaism says about animals. In the course, I hope to highlight some lesser known bibliographical items. The Torah appears to place significant obligation on people vis-à-vis animals. For instance, we are commanded to remove an overburdened animal (Deut. 22:4), we are told to feed one’s animals prior to one eating themselves (TB, Berachot, 40a), and finally there is a general injunction against mistreating animals. It is from this final prohibition – tzar ba’alei hayyim – that we continue with the remainder of our discussion.

Although we are commanded to treat animals well, Jews are also not prohibited from eating animals. The combination of these two ideas were for some rishonim an understanding of how and why shehita is the obligatory process for eating meat. They explain that purpose of shehita is to minimize pain to the animal even when we do kill it.[1] They point to law of a smooth knife as well as cutting specifically on the neck as trying to minimize pain. The issue of animal pain, was raised on numerous occasions for some to argue that shehita should be prohibited. In the defense of shehita the idea that it is the least painful method of killing was usually marshaled. In at least one instance, at the turn of the 20th century, this defense “caused even non-Jews to only use Jewish shehita and the Society for [the prevention] of Cruelty to Animals in America attempted to obligate this in all places.”[2]

In America as well there was a question of the legitimacy of shehita as a humane method. A book was published, originally in Hebrew and subsequently to English, which bore the title Tub Taam, or Vindication of the Israelitisch Way of Killing Animals by R. Aaron Zev Friedman (downloadable here). According to a family legend, this book convinced Ulysses S. Grant to eat only kosher meat.[3]

While all the above is true, there appears to be an opposite view of animals, one which places less respect to the animal world. R. Moshe Isserles, in his commentary on Shulhan Arukh, states “Anything that is necessary for health, or for anything else there is no prohibition against inflicting pain on animals; therefore, it is permissible to pluck quills from live duck and there is no consideration of causing pain to the animal. But, it is best to avoid all this as it is heartless.”[4] Thus, according to Rama, whenever there is any need, there is no prohibition of causing pain. According to this understanding, one need not understand the commandment of shehita to have anything to do with minimizing pain, as there is no need to minimize pain as the meat will be used.[5]

The view of Rama was applied by R. Yaakov Reischer when he asked [in an undated responsum] whether it is permissible to use an animal to test the efficacy of a drug.[6] He responded that based upon this Rama, animal testing is permitted. He explained that the caveat of Rama, that “it is heartless” and therefore should be avoided, is inapplicable to this case; as in the case of animal testing, the animal may not feel pain immediately, and as a result, according to R. Reischer, poses less of an issue of tzar ba’alei hayyim.

R. Ezekiel Landau, in his Noda BeYehudah[7] similarly applies Rama to a different question. He was asked whether it is permissible for a Jew to hunt animals. R. Landau says based upon Rama, there is no issue of tzar ba’alei hayyim. While he counsels against this practice for other reasons[8] these reasons are not out of concern for animals. R. Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin, in Haamek Davar, places Noah as the first to own pets. R. Berlin explains that the raven and dove were Noah’s own pets and not part of the animals he collected into the ark. R. Berlin alleges that the dove was actually trained similarly to a homing pigeon. (Haamek Davar, vol. 1, 8:7)

In discussing animals and Judaism there is a related discussion concerning the propriety of dog ownership and dogs in particular in Jewish thought. R. Jacob Emden rails against dog ownership.[9] He decries dog ownership solely for pleasure or as a companion and goes so far to claim that dog owners are suspect of engaging in bestiality.[10]

On the other hand, historically, the dog specifically, has actually been used as a positive icon. For instance, in the Hamburg Miscellany, there is a depiction of a wedding scene with a dog at the feet of the groom.[11] Similarly, the Washington Haggadah contains a depiction of a dog (see here).

The Sefer Hasidim claims that all animals can teach humans positive traits.[12] He singles out the dog for teaching loyalty, which is easily what the depiction in the Hamburg Miscellany could be depicting in the wedding scene – a scene which describes what is essentially a loyalty ceremony.

While the positive aspect of a dog can be found in some illustrations, the negative view of animals and specifically dogs can also be found in illustrations. In the Prague 1526 haggadah we find a depiction of a hare hunt being used for the mnemonic YaKNeHaZ (the order the blessing are recited when Pesach night falls on a Saturday night). The usage of the hare hunt is in German, the term for hare hunt or Jagen-has sounds like YakNeHaZ. In Augsburg, 1534 haggadah, Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi notes it not only shows a hare hunt, but the hare escaping.[13] He says the hare is representative of the Jewish people and the dogs their enemies and therefore, “it is plausible to conclude that hate two successive representation of the Jagen-has are not only an innovation in themselves, but together comprise an allegory of the persecution and salvation of the Jewish people.”[14] In this depiction the dogs are actually the enemies of the Jews conforming with the prior negative views of dogs.

Finally, in the apocryphal work Tobit, in many versions there is a positive mention of a dog. In some editions, however, the dog is missing. One scholar posits the removal was deliberate in that, according to him — and as we have seen above this is not universal — Jews (and other Eastern cultures) do not depict dogs positively.[15] Thus, the dog had to go. Again, this follows the negative view of dogs.

In conclusion, there appears to be two schools of thought regarding animals and specifically dogs. Some view them and animals positively and is borne out in practice, while there is another tradition inapposite.

Notes:
I wanted to thank Eliezer Brodt and Menachem Butler for their additional insights and sources which added significantly to this post.

[1] See Sefer haHinuch, commandment 451; see also Eshkoli, Tzaar Baalei Hayyim, [], 2002, 79-80 (collecting sources).
[2] See Greenwald, ha-Shohet ve-haShehita be-Safrut ha-Rabbunut (New York, 1955), p. 19.
[3] For the source and a description of this book in general see Yosef Goldman, Hebrew Printing in America (New York, 2006), 2:1092. See also, Shnayer Z. Leiman, “Montague Lawrence Marks: In a Jewish Bookstore,” Tradition 25:1 (Fall, 1989): 66, 69, nn.12-13.
For more on the German attempt to ban shehita and R. Y.Y. Weinberg’s response, see Hirsh Jakob Zimmels, The Echo of the Nazi Holocaust in Rabbinic Literature (New York, 1977), 181-193 and Marc B. Shapiro, Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy (Littman Library, 1999), 117-129; and regarding the highly controversial nature of R. Weinberg’s responsum, Chief Rabbi Isaac Herzog hesitated to allow it in print at all, see p. 192. Shapiro also cites a letter where it is suggested that “Herzog later agreed that publishing the responsum would not create difficulties” (ibid., n.86).

[4] Rama, Even haEzer, 5:14; see generally Eshkoli, supra n.1, chapter 12.
[5] R. Yosef Toemim, in his introduction to Pri Megadim discussing shehita cautions against applying rationales generally for commandments, and specifically for shehita. Pri Megadim, Peshiha Kollelet l’Hilchot Shehita.
[6] R. Yaakov Reischer, Shevut Ya’akov, vol. 3, no. 71.
[7] R. Ezekiel Landau, Noda b’Yehuda, Mahdurah Tinyana, Yoreh Deah, no. 10.
[8] He offers that Biblically, the only hunters were Esau and Nimrod thus hunting is not a “Jewish pastime.” Further, he argues that one is prohibited from putting himself in danger. He goes so far to claim that the simple reading of Esau’s statement “I am going to die” as an expression that Esau was aware that he was involved in a dangerous profession.

David Katz recently noted that R. Ezekiel Landau “laughingly applied” to R. Jacob Emden the Talmudic dictum (BT, Yoma, 30b) concerning mad dogs: “They bark and bark but no one hears!” David Katz, “A Case Study in the Formation of a Super-Rabbi: The Early Years of Rabbi Ezekiel Landau, 1713-1754” (University of Maryland, 2004), 17, 420-421.
[9] R. Jacob Emden, She’elat Ya’avetz, vol. 1 no. 17; Eshkoli, supra n.1, pp. 221-224; id. 225-28 (discussing cats).
[10] There is a related discussion about the Antisemitic use of the dog to depict Jews. See Ruth Mellinkoff, Antisemitic Hate Signs in Hebrew Illuminated Manuscripts from Medieval Germany (Jerusalem, 1999), pp. 38-9; now, see generally, Kenneth Stow, Jewish Dogs: An Image and Its Interpreters (Stanford, California, 2006), 28-32 and passim. Additionally, it is worth noting that there is actually a Jewish explanation as to why non-Jews have called Jews dogs. See R. Y.Y. Stahl, ed., Sefer Kushiyot (Jerusalem, 2007), no. 128 p. 100 (finding scriptural basis for the dog epithet!).
[11] Bezalel Narkiss, Hebrew Illuminated Manuscripts (Israel, 1984) plate 59 p. 185; this illumination also appears in Encyclopaedia Judaica (Jerusalem, 1967), vol. 16, opp. col. 616. Sperber notes other instances of dogs in Jewish items but attributes it to Christian ideology. See Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisrael, vol. 4 pp. 84-5, n.12. But, as is shown above from the Sefer Hasidim, the use of a dog to display loyalty has Jewish roots as well.
[12] Margoliyot ed., no. 47, p. 106. See also, Sefer Hasidim (Sefer HaMaskil) p. 12 “at all times one should have in their home animals or birds, at the very least a rooster or duck. One should then feed the animal first to fulfill the obligation to feed animals prior to one eating themselves.” For a discussion regarding this Sefer Hasidim vis-a-vis the Sefer HaMaskil, see R. M.M. Honig, in “al Mahduroso haHadasha shel Sefer HaMaskil (Sefer Hasidim) l’R’ Moshe Bar Eliezer HaKohen,” Yerushashanu, vol. 1 (2007): 196-240.
[13] Both of these are available in their entirety from the JNUL site.
[14] Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi, Haggadah and History (Jewish Publication Society 1997), plate 15. For a fuller discussion of this imagery, see Elliott Horowitz, “Odd Couples: The Eagle and the Hare, the Lion and the Unicorn,” Jewish Studies Quarterly 11:3 (August 2004): 243-258, and idem., “The People of the Image,” The New Republic 223:13 (September 25, 2000): 41-49.
[15] Israel Abrahams, “Tobit’s Dog,” Jewish Quarterly Review (old series), I, 3 (1888/1889): 288.

Review of R. Yedidyah Tiyah Weil’s Levushi Badim:
With An Eye Towards Yom Kippur

By Rabbi Eliezer Brodt

“Or Zarua la’tzadik – Light is sown for the righteous.” Each year, we begin our Yom Kippur prayers with these repeated, resounding words which Aruch Hashulchan tells us refer to “great matters that are beyond explanation.” If there is one evening of the entire Jewish year when we most seek the great, inexplicable light of God’s shechina, it is Yom Kippur eve. We enter the synagogue with great expectations, to feel close to the Divine, and to feel the warmth of His light and presence. As we say throughout the penitential season, Hashem ori ve’yishi – God is my light and salvation.

Below, we shall see that rabbinic literature prescribes the lighting of candles in the synagogue on Yom Kippur eve. We believe that, for many, reinstating this practice could enhance the spirituality of Yom Kippur eve.

The practice we seek to reinstate is neither the kindling of Yahrzeit candles, nor the lighting of candles lit by women at home on each Shabbat and Yom Tov evening, including Yom Kippur eve. Rather, it is a third practice – usually not seen here in the United States – that dates back nearly two millennia, to the Mishna. Let us consider the Misnha (Pesachim 4:4 in its entirety, which begins with the custom of candle lighting in the home:

A place where they have practiced to kindle the light on Yom Kippur eves – they kindle.
A place where they have practiced not to kindle – they do not kindle.

The Tosefta and both the Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmuds all explain that these differing practices regarding whether to kindle lights in private homes are both intended to prevent marital relations on the night of Yom Kippur, when that activity is forbidden. The custom to kindle was intended to remind a couple to refrain from marital relations on Yom Kippur eve by creating a lit setting in which such relations are forbidden by Talmudic law, and in which people would be naturally sexually reticent.[1] The custom not to light on Yom Kippur eve, on the other hand, was intended to diminish the husband’s desire for relations with his wife by eliminating the light which allows him to see her and thereby desire her.

Having considered differing practices regarding lighting in private homes, the Mishna goes on to discuss the uniform practice of lighting in public venues – the main focus of this post at the Seforim blog:

They kindle in synagogues, study halls, and dark alleyways, and near the ill.

The Tosefta (Pesachim 3:11) expands this list to include other public places such as inns, bathhouses, and restrooms (or, according to one interpretation, mikvaot.) The need to illuminate these various public locations is strictly practical: so people can see where they are going, what they are doing, do not trip, can relieve themselves, immerse themselves in a mikvah,[2] and the like. Since the above sources generally confine themselves to rules on halachic, not practical matters, the Jerusalem Talmud (Pesachim 4:4) explains that this last phrase of the Mishna teaches a halachic point, as well: namely, that even where kindling in private homes is forbidden, kindling in public venues is permitted since there is no concern for marital relations occurring in such settings.

The Mishna, Tosefta, and Talmuds, then, note the uniform practice of kindling lights in synagogues and study halls on Yom Kippur eve. It is a practical matter, whose halachic background relates to the specific issue of the prohibition of marital relations on Yom Kippur. This was true beyond the Talmudic period, as well. R. Eliezer b. R. Yoel HaLevi in Sefer Ravyah (section 528) states explicitly that his community did follow the Talmudic custom to kindle lights in synagogues and study halls, relating this kindling to the Talmudic concerns.[3]

The halachic works of French Jewry, however, invest the kindling of lights on Yom Kippur with symbolic, ritual, and mandatory meanings. In 11th Century France, for example, Machzor Vitri (Seder shel Yom Hakippurim) describes the formal minhag in his community to kindle lights on Yom Kippur, and provides a Midrashic basis for this custom [the Machzor Vitri also records that the Geonim followed this custom as well]. The Midrash (Tanchuma YaShan 24, P. Emor) asserts that God does not require the mitzvoth of Man, and that the light of the menorah in the Temple is therefore for Man’s benefit – to protect him – and not for God’s benefit. Similarly, since Proverbs 20:27 likens a person’s soul to a candle, Machzor Vitri concludes that kindling lights on Yom Kippur protects. Machzor Vitri, however, does not detail that protection or how it connects to Yom Kippur.

In 13th Century France, Rosh (Yoma 8:9) also recognizes this minhag, indicating that an abundance of candles were typically lit in synagogues. Unlike Machzor Vitri, however, Rosh places this custom into a broader and more familiar halachic framework, namely, kavod Yom Tov. To do so, he begins by citing the Talmud’s requirement (b. Shabbat 119a) to wear clean clothes on Yom Kippur to honor the day in the absence of food and drink through which one honors other holidays.Then, he cites Targum Yonaton to Isaiah 24:15 to show that kindling lights is a form of honoring God. Therefore, he concludes, “yesh le’chavdo (one should honor it)” through all means considered to be honor. For Rosh, kindling lights on Yom Kippur eve fulfills this halachic requirement to honor the day. Rosh’s son, the author of the Arba’ah Turim, follows the approach of his father in this area.

Kol Bo (early 14th Century France and Spain)(sec. 68) introduces two further practical considerations favoring this kindling. First, the recitation of the less familiar Yom Kippur prayers “all day and night” necessitates lighting candles in synagogues. Second, such a candle can be used to fulfill the special halachic requirement of ner she’shavat for the havdalah candle used at the close of Yom Kippur.

Rosh’s immediate contemporary,R. Mordechai b. Hillel Ashkenazi in his Mordechai, (comment #723 to b. Yoma) provides an entirely different basis for this kindling.17 As we shall see, his rationale will take us far away from the issues of honoring Yom Tov and the practical considerations we have seen so far. It is noteworthy that Mordechai prefaces his novel explanation by stating his conscious intent to strengthen this minhag. As we shall see, Mordechai succeeded in this regard, perhaps beyond his own expectations.

Mordechai begins by quoting a statement from the Talmud (b. Horiot 12a, b. Kritut 5b) indicating that if one wants to see if he will live out the year, he should light a candle and place it in a windless room from Rosh Hashana until Yom Kippur. If the flame lasts, then he will live out the year. (Below we will discuss this practice in light of the Torah prohibition of nichush (divination).) Mordechai rules that “in our time, the practice is to kindle a candle on Yom Kippur for every person since it is the gmar din (the final day of judgment).” Apparently, Mordechai means that, since Jews in his time no longer lit candles during the entire period of judgment from Rosh Hashana to Yom Kippur, we symbolically include that entire time period by lighting a candle at its close, on Yom Kippur.

In late 14th Century Germany, R. Yaakov Moelin in Maharil (Hilchot erev Yom Kippur) cites Mordechai, suggesting that the lighting is a personal obligation that symbolizes the soul of man standing before God on the day of judgment, Yom Kippur. He also notes that the practice was for only men and boys to light but not women or girls, providing a number of homiletic and halachic suggestions for why this might be so. The simplest of them is that a married woman fulfills her obligation through her husband’s lighting. Maharil’s student Mahariv (Responsa Mahiri Weil 192) also elaborates on these matters, and prohibits the then common practice of instructing a gentile to rekindle one’s candle that went out on Yom Kippur.

How are the differing traditions of Rosh and Mordechai reflected in the voices found in the standard code of Jewish Law, Shulchan Aruch? R. Yosef Karo cites Mordechai’s approach in his Beit Yosef, but his final codification in Shulchan Aruch reflects the tradition of Rosh; i.e., there should be lights in the synagogue and elsewhere, not that there is an individual obligation to kindle such lights.

In his glosses to the Beit Yosef and the Shulchan Aruch, however, Rema (R. Moshe Isserles) codifies the approach of Mordechai, mandating an individual lighting. As he does so, he adds further stringencies to this kindling. For example, Rema rules that if one’s light is extinguished on Yom Kippur, one must relight it at the conclusion of Yom Kippur and allow it to burn down completely. Similarly, although one whose light burned throughout Yom Kippur could extinguish it out at the end of Yom Kippur, one whose candle went out during Yom Kippur must accept upon himself that neither he nor others will ever extinguish his candle at the end of Yom Kippur. Apparently, these build upon an implication of Mordechai’s Talmudic source; namely, that it is a bad sign if one’s candle goes out on Yom Kippur.

A century later, R. Mordecahi b. Abraham Jaffe in his Levush accepts these rulings of Rema, and adds a further stringency based upon the reasoning of Machzor Vitry. First, he sharpens Machzor Vitry’s reason of “protection” by indicating that the Yom Kippur eve light kindled in the synagogue atones for the soul of the one who lights it. Therefore, he (and subsequent authorities, as well) prohibits lighting a candle for a meshumad (an apostate) so that his soul cannot gain an atonement which it does not deserve.

These varied codifications of the practice to light candles in the synagogue by Tur, Beit Yosef, Shulchan Aruch, Rema, and Levush both reflected and contributed to its spread to all of world Jewry. Indeed, in his comments to the Shulchan Aruch, Magen Avraham notes that concerns about fire safety had prompted a widespread practice to hire a Gentile to guard the synagogue throughout the night of Yom Kippur. That, in turn, prompted him to decry infractions of the regulations pertaining to what such a Gentile may be instructed to do in the context of the laws of Yom Kippur.

So far, then, we have seen at least six separate reasons to kindle candles on Yom Kippur eve in the synagogue (in addition to Yahrzeit and Yom Tov candles lit at home): to protect (Machzor Vitri) or gain atonement (Levush); to fulfill the halachic obligation to honor Yom Kippur day (Rosh); to dramatize the final judgment for the forthcoming year that is given for each person on Yom Kippur (Mordechai); and to address practical issues of having a ner sh’shavat and to provide adequate illumination for the extended, unfamiliar nighttime prayers of Yom Kippur (Kol Bo).

Before continuing to follow this practice’s further development, let us return to a problem in Mordechai’s Talmudic source. It indicated that if one lights a candle at Rosh Hashana time which remains lit until Yom Kippur, then this is a sign that one will live out the year. In his comments to Horiot 12b, Maharasha (16th C) states the problem succinctly: “This practice is apparently forbidden by the prohibition of ‘You must not practice divination’ (Vayikra 19:26). For what reason is this [and other similar practices mentioned in the Talmud] permitted…?”

Maharsha’s answer is that this practice of lighting is permitted because it is an act symbolizing one’s hope for a future good (a siman tov) which does not imply the inverse belief that the absence of that sign will negatively affect the future with certainty. Correspondingly, the Talmud only states the positive sign of the candle remaining lit but does not mention the significance of its going out.

However, the widespread popularity of Mordechai’s approach as well as its intensification over time through the successive stringent rulings of Rema, Levush, and others, created a corresponding intensity about this matter in the minds of Jews. Apparently, the Jewish masses did not maintain Maharsha’s caution about the non-significance of their light going out. Put simply, it appears that ordinary people considered this flame to bear a heavenly sent message regarding their very lives in the forthcoming year. If their flame was extinguished before the end of Yom Kippur, then this implied they would not live out the year. Aruch Hashulchan (OC 610:6) and Mishna Berura (OC 610:14), for example, both write that the Jewish masses were distraught if their candle went out on Yom Kippur. As a result, what was a theoretical problem for Maharsha became a practical problem for these later halachic authorities.

They address this problem in three distinct ways. First, they provide practical ways to avoid seeing whether one’s light goes out. Aruch Hashulchan suggests lighting one’s candle amidst those of others so that one’s own candle is no longer specifically identifiable. (OC 610:6) Similarly, Mishna Berura suggests having a shul representative light all the candles so that people cannot identify their own candle. Second, while still encouraging individuals to light their candles, Aruch Hashulchan exhorts the people to be “whole with your God,” and that “it is not becoming for the Holy People [of Israel] to walk in the ways of divination.”

Finally, Aruch Hashulchan also extends the reasoning of Rosh, writing that the lights are not only to honor the day of Yom Kippur, but that “the practice is to honor the King with great lights and this, indeed, is the practice of all Israel, to multiply lights to honor this holy day…in all of the rooms of one’s home, in synagogues, in study halls, in dark alleyways, near the ill, in order that the light should be great and found in all places…”

It is clear, then, the preponderance of standard halachic works from the Mishna to the Mishna Berura consider the kindling of candles on Yom Kippur in the synagogue to be the standard, widely practiced, custom. Mateh Ephraim even records its Yiddish moniker, dos gezunteh licht – the light of health and well-being (603:8). And yet in America, this practice has fallen by the wayside.[4] Where did it go? We don’t know for sure. We can conjecture that electric lighting and fire safety concerns in American synagogues displaced it.

We believe that the rabbis and synagogue lay leaders should consider reintroducing this beautiful practice to their sanctuaries. This is opportunity for even the most traditional synagogue to do something new and unexpected that is, at the same time, an ancient tradition of our people, practiced for millennia across all the lands of our dispersion. A synagogue already adorned with a white parochet, white kittels and white talitot can now be aglow with the flames of candles lit by each and every member of the synagogue. This will create a unique setting of purity and awe that is conducive to prayer, introspection, and distinct holiness of Yom Kippur itself. [5]

Notes
[1] Interestingly, this reasoning assumes that the prohibition to have marital relations by candlelight was more widely known and observed by the people then the prohibition of marital relations of Yom Kippur itself.

[2] According to some opinions, a ba’al keri was permitted to immerse himself on Yom Kippur, despite the general prohibition to wash or immerse oneself on Yom Kippur.

[3] It is worth noting Rambam, (Hilchot Shvitat Asur, 3:10) for example, codifies these Talmudic sources and mentions the two varying practices regarding kindling in one’s house, but entirely omits discussion of kindling in all public venues. Magid Mishneh (explains Rambam’s omission in a manner similar to the Jerusalem Talmud’s comment (above), noting that the practice not to kindle in private venues never extended to public ones since couples are not secluded there.

Similarly, writing in Vienna at the turn of 13th Century, Or Zarua elaborates at great length upon many familiar minhagim of Yom Kippur eve, yet entirely omits mention of kindling lights in synagogues.

[4] We have seen a practice in some American synagogues that seems related to the tradition we have delineated; i.e., women light their Yom Tov candles for Yom Kippur in synagogue, instead of at home. There are many reasons, however, why this is not the lighting we are advocating. First, since the days of Maharil, only men have done the lighting we describe, but not women. Second, these women are reciting the blessing for Yom Tov kindling over these candles. Unlike most other Shabbat and Yom Tov evenings, women on Yom Kippur are not at home but rather in synagogue. It would seem, then, that they light where they will be while their candles are lit. Indeed, they may feel it unsafe to leave unattended candles lit at home.

[5] Here are some recommendations for those interested in introducing this practice to their synagogues:

*Dim the electric lighting for Yom Kippur eve if technically possible.
*Each synagogue will need to think creatively about how to arrange the candles to be light, given the layout of its sanctuary. Note that a wide variety of candle holding devices are available for sale today through the Internet and other venues.
*In keeping with the ruling of R. Yosef Karo, candles can be arranged without any correspondence to the number of individuals or families in the synagogue.
*Alternately, in keeping with Ashkenazic tradition, lighting can be done by each individual man on behalf of himself and his family. Women, too, can light their own candle if they wish29. It will be necessary in advance of the holiday to encourage those who will be lighting of the need to participate in this practice. Presumably, this could be done by a letter, a class, at the time of ticket distribution, or in other ways. To accommodate the concern first articulated by Maharil, time would also need to be scheduled for people to do this in an orderly and safe manner prior to the onset of Yom Tov. Coming to synagogue earlier might also encourage congregants to enter Yom Kippur in a more reflective manner, recite tefillah zaka, etc.
*Of course, as Magen Avraham pointed out, each synagogue will need to attend to fire safety concerns within the confines of halacha, as well.

[Ed. note – For Additional Reading: for more on the custom of lighting candles on Yom Kippur, see R. Y. Goldhvaer’s Minhagei HaKehilot, Jerusalem, 2005, 88-96, available here (PDF)]

* Aaron Goldscheider serves as the Rabbi of the historic Mount Kisco Hebrew Congregation in N. Westchester, NY.
Barry Kornblau serves as rabbi of the Young Israel of Hollis Hills-Windsor Park, and the Director of Committees and Operations at the Rabbinical Council of America.

For those interested in the topic of the permissibility of praying to angels and the controversy surrounding this topic see the post on Machnesi Rachamim and Plagiarism which has been updated a bit and now includes some interesting scans. One scan in particular, the title page, is a case of a very elaborate and somewhat unique illustrated title page. In the next couple of days I hope to return to this topic and debunk a popular explanation regarding a well-known illustrated title page.