Ha-Osek be-Mitzvah Patur min ha-Mitzvah: The Case of Prayer and Torah Study

Daniel Sperber has just published a new book, On the Relationship of Mitzvot Between Man and His Neighbor and Man and His Maker. The Seforim Blog is happy to present chapter 4 from the book.

Daniel Sperber

We find in Sefer ha-Rokeah, section 369 ad fin., that a person who is sitting in the synagogue, wrapped in his talit and with his tefillin on his head and is reciting liturgical songs, must, nonetheless, rise up before his teacher, since he can carry out both actions and he will receive fine rewards in both worlds. Now there are early authorities who hold that the principle that one who is engaged in one mitzvah is exempt from another is also the case when both could be carried out. (See Shulhan Aruch Orah Hayyim 38:8, and in the Beur Halachah, ibid., and also R. Yaakov Hayyim Sofer, Brit Yaakov [Jerusalem: 1985], section 2, 36; R. Ovadiah Yosef, Hazon Ovadiah: Sukkot [Jerusalem: 2005, 167].) The author of the Rokeah, R. Elazar of Germaiza, was a disciple of R. Yehudah (b. R. Shmuel) he-Hasid, the author of Sefer Hasidim. And it is the view of R. Yehudah he-Hasid that even if one can carry out both mitzvot, one is exempt from doing so, if one is engaged in a prior mitzvah; and this, indeed, is the view of R. Elazar Rokeah himself (Rokeah, Hilchot Sukkah, section 299; see Sofer). Why then should one who is engaged in praising the Lord in the synagogue, have to rise up before his teacher? Surely he is already engaged in a mitzvah, and therefore exempt from others! The answer, I suggest, is because ritual synagogue worship is directed towards God, but respect for one’s teacher is a mitzvah between man and his fellow, and he is therefore not exempt from it. So too the Hida, R. Hayyim Yosef David Azulai, rules, that even in the hour of prayer one rises before a Torah scholar, (Birkei Yosef Orah Hayyim, section 244:1; and see Sofer, note 8 on page 37; and see most recently the discussion of R. Yitzchak Eliyahu Stessman, Kimah ve-Hidur [Jerusalem: 2011, 88–91], with additional references).

Indeed, the severity of not rising before one’s teacher is expressed by R. Eleazar in very extreme terms in BT Kiddushin 33b:

Any scholar who does not rise before his teacher is called a wicked person (רשע), and will not live long and will forget his learning.

(See also R. Yaakov Hezkiyahu Fisch, in his Ve-Haarachta Yamim, ed. Y.M. Sofer, [Jerusalem: 2010, 71–72].)

To this we may add what we are told of the Arizal, by his disciple R. Hayyim Vital, that he was very particular in paying his workers exactly on time and without delay. And if he did not have the money with which to pay these wages, he would delay his afternoon prayer (minhah) until close to sunset in order to search out a loan with which to make the payment. Only afterwards would he hurriedly daven minhah. He would explain himself by saying: “How can I pray to the Lord, may He be blessed . . . , when such an important mitzvah is incumbent upon me, and I have not carried it out?” (See R. Hayyim Vital, Shemonah Shearim: Shaar ha-Mitzvot [Jerusalem: 1872], Parshat Tetzeh; Avraham Tobolsky, Hizaharu be-Memon Haverchem, vol. 2, [Bnei Brak: 1981, 211–212].)

In a somewhat different vein, but with much the same principle as its basis, we read in Niflaot Beit Levi, by A. Kleiman (Pietrokov: 1911, 32, [Yiddish]), cited in Louis I. Newman and Samuel Spitz, The Hasidic Anthology: Tales and Teachings of the Hasidim (New York: 1944, 178:2, 480) as follows:

A teamster (=wagon driver) sought the Berditchover’s (Reb Levi Yitchak of Berditchov’s) advice as to whether he should give up his occupation because it interfered with regular attendance at the synagogue. “Do you carry poor travellers free of charge?” asked the Rabbi. “Yes,” answered the teamster. “Then you serve the Lord in your occupation just as faithfully as you would be frequenting the synagogue.”

(However, see A.Y. Pfoifer, Ishei Yisrael [Jerusalem: 1998, 104, section 11, and notes ad loc].)

And indeed, the Rambam in Hilchot Talmud Torah 3:4, followed by the Shulhan Aruch, Yoreh Deah 246:8, rules:

If there came before him [the choice of performing] a mitzvah and (i.e., or continuing) learning Torah, if that mitzvah could be carried out by another, he should not interrupt his learning; but if not, he should carry out that mitzvah and then return to his study. And when it comes to giving charity, one should always give charity first.[1]

This indeed is the conclusion to be drawn from the sugya in Yerushalmi Pesahim 3:7 (and parallel to JT Hagigah 1:7). There we read that R. Abahu, who lived in Caesarea, sent his son R. Haninah to study in Tiberias, in the Yeshiva of R. Yohanan.

They came and informed him that [his son] was engaged in charitable activities (i.e., in the burial of dead). He sent him a message, saying to him: “Are there no graves in Caesarea that I sent you to Tiberias?” (i.e., for such activities you could have stayed at home).

The Talmud continues that it was already decided at Beit Nitzeh in Lod that “study is greater for it leads to deeds,” (see below). However, the rabbis of Caesarea qualified this by saying:

This is the case when there is someone else to carry out the deeds. But if there is not anyone else to carry them out, the deed comes before [the study], (i.e., has precedence).

We then are told a tale:

R. Hiyya, R. Yosi [and] R. Ami were late coming to R. Eleazar [for their lesson with him]. He asked them, “Where were you?” They replied, “We were involved in charitable activity” (meaning in the burial of someone). “Was there no one else [who could do this?]” he asked of them. They replied, “He was a neighbor [according to the Pnei Moshe, or a proselyte – according to the Korban ha-Edah,” i.e., and there was no one else to deal with his burial.]

Incidentally, we may add here that the interpretation of the Pnei Moshe is supported by a passage in Sefer Haredim, (by R. Eleazar Azikri, [Safed: 1533–1600]), Mitzvot Aseh . . . ha-Teluyot be-Lev 22, which states that:

A person is obligated to act charitably towards his neighbors and his relations more than to other people, as is clearly stated in the Bavli and the Yerushalmi.

(See S. Lieberman, HaYerushalmi Kiphshuto [Jerusalem: 1934, 426] and his other comments.) And the parallel text in JT Hagigah 1:7., begins with an additional passage, namely:

R. Yehudah, when he would see a dead person (i.e., a burial) or a bride (i.e., a marriage procession), [and people] praising them (i.e., honoring them in the processions), he would turn to his students (נותן עיניו בתלמידים), and say: “The [dealing with] the dead precedes the study of Torah (תלמוד).”

And a somewhat similar notion, but expressed in a Hassidic vein, may be found in a story related in Yehezkel Shraga Fraenkel’s Rabbenu ha-Kaddosh mi-Shinyeve (Ramat Gan: 1992, 256–257). He relates that once the Rabbi of Warsaw came to visit the Divrei Hayyim, R. Hayyim of Sanz. The Sanzer Rebbe asked him, “Do you learn?” “Yes,” the Warsaw Rabbi replied. The Rebbe repeated, “Do you always learn?” The reply was, “When someone who is embittered and needs help comes to me, I close my gemara and deal with him, to help and encourage him.” “This is what I wanted to hear,” said the Sanzer, “whether you have the good sense to close your gemara when someone needs your help,[2] both in word and in deed, and in any case to encourage him and bolster his spirit.”[3]

Here we must make something of a digression, which is not really a digression, as this touches upon a very important point. For the Mishnah in Peah 1:1 states that: “the study of Torah is equal to all of them,” i.e., even to those mitzvot listed in the Mishnah which are social ones, such as honoring one’s parents, doing charitable deeds, bringing peace between rival individuals, etc. The question we ask ourselves is: is the study of Torah (תלמוד תורה) a ritual or a social mitzvah? Into which category does it fall? For if the former, according to our suggestion how can it be superior to those other social mitzvot?

To clarify this issue we must go back to a very ancient discussion that took place in the attic at Beit Nitzeh in Lod, between R. Tarfon and the Elders. For this question was put before them: which is greater, or more important תלמוד או מעשה, learning or deeds? R. Tarfon answered: Deeds are greater. While R. Akiva said study is greater. And they all replied: Study is greater for it leads to deeds (BT Kiddushin 40b).[4] That is to say the importance of study is in that it constitutes the key to the proper execution of the mitzvot. This is also the meaning of R. Shimon the son of Rabban Gamliel’s statement in Avot 1:17: Not the expounding of the law (midrash) is the chief thing, but the doing [of it] (maaseh). And this is amplified by Rabbenu Bachya in his commentary ad loc.: that the aim of man’s labor in Torah is not that he should just learn a lot, but that [his learning] should lead to deeds, as we have learned from the verse [in Deuteronomy 5:1], ‘and ye may learn them [i.e., the statutes and judgments], and keep and do them.’ And this is further amplified in Shulhan Aruch ha-Rav, by R. Shneur Zalman Mi-Ladi, in his Hilchot Talmud Torah 4:2, by telling us that “it is impossible to fulfill all the mitzvot in all their details without intensive study and knowledge of them. And for this reason it is equal to all of them,” i.e., not intrinsically, but as a means to their proper application.[5]

This issue has been analyzed recently by R. Yitzchak Shapiro, in his article in Hakirah 9, (2010), 221–243, entitled “To know the Forbidden and the Permitted: An Analysis of Rambam’s View of the Purpose and Goals of Talmud Study.” He shows that the Rambam’s view, as expressed in his letter to his disciple R. Yosef,[6] is that “learning Torah is a utilitarian endeavor, with extracting halachic conclusions its functional objective” (227).[7] He goes on to show that “the simplicity and obviousness [of this position] might go unnoticed if not for its staggering ramification and total incompatibility with contemporary realities in derech halimud ” (227–228). For as he earlier showed (223–224): “the Aharonim do identify an aspect of Torah study, unrelated to fulfillment of the other mitzvot, based on the verse והגית בו יומם ולילה – ‘but thou shalt meditate therein day and night’ (Joshua 1:8, cf. BT Menachot 99b). This mitzvah of ‘limud ha-Torah’ is distinct from the mitzvah of ‘yediat ha-Torah,’ and can be fulfilled regardless of the subject matter that is learned, whereas the mitzvah of yediat ha-Torah requires a curriculum that is limited to ‘halachah’ (or at least the sharpening of one’s mental acuity, which is necessary for accurate application of halachah). However, one may fulfill both facets of the mitzvah simultaneously only by learning halachic subject matter.”[8]

This is the view of the Meiri, as formulated in his commentary to BT Berachot 7b:

The knowledge of how the Torah actually expresses itself indeed requires serving or observing Torah scholars. While intellectual learning is the cause of wisdom, observing the Sages is the cause of knowing how the Torah manifests itself. This is both true for monetary matters as well as that which is prohibited and permitted.

Hence, we may well understand the statement of Rav in BT Megillah 3b, that Talmud Torah is greater than the sacrifice of the daily offerings (temidin).

Here we may also call attention to R. Meir Triebitz’s insightful analysis (in his introduction to R. Daniel Eidensohn’s Daas Torah: A Jewish Sourcebook [Jerusalem: 2005, 31–35]). He begins by noting that God commands us twice to study Torah: once in Deuteronomy 11:19, and again in Deuteronomy 4:9–11. He analyzes the differences between these two formulations in all their details – e.g., one in the plural and the other in the singular; one talks of teaching, the other telling; one focuses on parents to children, while the other lists three generations. He concludes that “the two verses which obligate us to learn the Torah actually refer to two types of study. One refers to the study of the legal part of Torah, and the other to the study of Torah’s theology. Each form of study is deemed a separate scholarly enterprise.” He characterizes these two forms of study as “legal” (i.e., halachic) study, and “faith” study, which he states “deals primarily with Aggadic parts of the Torah.” But for our purposes it is important to emphasize that both verses, that is to say both classes of study, require the student also to be a teacher, and to pass on his learning to future generations. Hence, Torah study has a social aspect too.

This is a very broad subject that requires a study in its own right, and we cannot enlarge on it here. But what emerges very clearly is that the mitzvah of Torah study is in a very special category, for without it one would not know how to carry out ritual or social mitzvot correctly. Nonetheless, the Or Zarua and the Rav
Baal ha-Tanya agree that one interrupts learning Torah to fulfill other mitzvot, if both cannot be carried out at the same time, and one is not exempt because one is already involved in a prior mitzvah.[9]

This is clear from the baraita in BT Ketubot 17a (BT Megillah 3b, 29a) that we interrupt our study of Torah (מבטלין תלמוד תורה) not merely for a met mitzvah and to accompany the dead (הוצאת המת), but also for wedding ceremonies (הכנסת כלה) – all supreme social mitzvot.[10] And in this way, we may better understand the passage in Avot de-R. Natan, chapter 41, (ed. Schechter, Vienna: 1887, 133):

It once happened that R. Tarfon was sitting and teaching his disciples, and a bride went past him. He ordered that she be brought into his house, and told his mother and his wife that they should bathe her, anoint her, and decorate her with jewelry, and dance before her until she goes to her husband’s house.

Apparently, he interrupted his teaching in order to carry out the mitzvah of hachnasat kallah.[11] And indeed we read in the letters of the Hafetz Hayyim (Michtevei ha-Hafetz Hayyim he-Hadash, vol. 2, Bnei Brak: 1986) II, 86:

You occasionally see a Jew who [in a praiseworthy way] learns Torah [as much as possible] and values his time [not wasting a minute]. But if he does not set aside part of the day to do deeds of kindness, what a lack of intelligence!

And interestingly enough, this also becomes evidence from the commentary of R. David ha-Nagid, the Rambam’s grandson, to Avot 1:15. There Shammai is cited as saying: “Make thy [study of the] Torah a fixed
habit (קבע); . . . . And receive all men as its cheerful countenance.” And this is explained by the Nagid to mean that even when you are engaged in your fixed period of Torah study, you should not desist from receiving people cheerfully, thinking that in doing so you are “wasting” Torah-study time.[12] So apparently he regarded proper interpersonal relationship of such importance as even to override one’s involvement in Torah learning. And this presumably goes under the category of kevod ha-beriyot, respect for the individual. (Cf. below, sections 15 and 19.)

We are reminded of the statement of Reb Yisrael of Rizhyn (died 1850), who expounded the verse in Psalms 115:16, “the heavens are the heavens of the Lord; but the earth hath He given to the children of men.”

There are two kinds of tzaddikim. Those of the one sort learn and pray the livelong day and hold themselves far from lowly matters in order to attain holiness. While the others do not think of themselves, but only of delivering the holy sparks which are buried in all things back to God, and they make all lowly things their concern. The former, who are always preparing for Heaven, the verse calls “the heavens,” and they have set themselves apart for the Lord. But the others are the earth given to the children of men.

(Martin Buber, Tales of the Hasidim: The Later Masters, New York: 1948, 53–54)

Here, he is contrasting the Lithuanian mitnagdim’s way, (in a double-edged complementary fashion), with that of the Hasidim, while we well know with which way he personally sided.

At the same time we should recollect how Yehudah ha-Levi in his Kuzari, begins his definition of the religious man according to Jewish tradition with the negative statement that “in Jewish opinion, the religious man is not to be defined as one who cuts himself off from the world” (Book III, sect. I, ed. Hirschfeld, Leipzig: 1882, 140–141). Perhaps he was combating predominant contemporary Sufi views on extreme asceticism. (See Franz Rosenthal, “A Judaeo-Arabic Work under Sufic Influence,” HUCA XV 1940,
440, and cf. page 465 for an extreme view of this form of asceticism, and note 104.)

[1] See Le-Hair Hilchot Tzedakah be-Or Yekarot (Jerusalem: 2010, 6–7). And see below sect. 16 on the overriding importance of charity, and Appendix.

[2] See, for example, the practice of the Brisker Rav, Reb Hayyim Soloveitchik, as described in Aharon Sorasky, Marbitzei Torah u-Musar bi-Yeshivot Nusah Lita mi-Tekufat Volozin ve-ad Yameinu, vol. 1 (Jerusalem: 1976, 110).

[3] Cf. BT Shabbat 127a: Said R. Yohanan: Great is the hosting of guests as are those rising up early to the House of Study [of Torah], as we have learned: to make room for guests [to avoid] hindrance in the House of Study. But Rav Dimi of Nehardea said: It is greater than rising up early to the House of Study. For we learned: “for guests,” and only afterwards “to avoid hindrance in the House of Study.” And see below sects. 11 and 12 on hosting guests.

[4] On this text see Benedict Thomas Viviano, Study as Worship: Aboth and the New Testament (Leiden: 1978, 105–109). Directly related to this is the text in JT Pesahim 3:7, and JT Hagigah 1:7, cited above, from which the Rabbis learned that if others can carry out these charitable activities, a person should not interrupt his Torah studies. And this seems to be the dominant view among the poskim. See further BT Moed Katan 9a; Shulhan Aruch Yoreh Deah 246:18; Meiri to BT Shabbat 9a and Moed Katan ibid.; Rabbenu Yeruham 22a in the name of the Ravad, etc. See R. Asi ha-Levi Even Yuli, Shulhan Aruch ha-Middot, vol. 2, Halachah u-Musar (Jerusalem: 2009, 243–244).

[5] See R. Mordechai Shmuel Ashkenazi’s magnificent commentary to Hilchot Talmud Torah Mi-Shulhan Aruch Admor ha-Zaken, vol. 5 [= ha-Rav] (Kefar Habad: 2000, 86).

[6] Ed. Y. Shilat, Iggrot ha-Rambam, vol. 1 (Jerusalem: 1987, 254–259); and see editor’s note on 257–258 to line 4).

[7] At the simplest level, there is, in the Rambam’s view, an obligation upon one who has learned Torah,
also to teach it to others. See Hilchot Talmud Torah 1:2, and so too in the listing of the positive commandments at the beginning of his Mishneh Torah, no. 11. (This list is also that of the Rambam, as attested by the author of the Magid Mishneh in his introduction to Hilchot Eruvin, and the Kesef Mishneh in Hilchot Hannukah 3:6; Responsa Noda bi-Yehudah Kama, Orah Hayyim, sect. 29; Petah ha-Dvir, vol. 2, sect. 194, subsect. A. See R. Yaakov Hayyim Sofer, Drupteki de-Oraita, vol. 1 [Jerusalem: 1987, 45]. And see further his remarks, 68–69, on the need to teach others.) Of related interest is the article of Sarah Pessin, “Maimonides and the Sacred Art of Teaching,” apud Adaptations and Innovations: Studies in the Interaction between Jewish and Islamic Thought and Literature from the Early Middle Ages to the Late Twentieth Century, Dedicated to Professor Joel Kraemer, ed. Y. Tzvi Langermann (Paris & Louvin: 2007, 285–298). See also, most recently, the remarks of R. Aharon Lichtenstein, in H. Sabato and A. Lichtenstein, Mevakshei Panecha (Tel Aviv: 2011, 212–215).

[8] See the material R. Yitzchak Shapiro brings from the letters of R. Yisrael Salanter (no. 27), in this regard. See also Kuntres Aharon shel Shulhan Aruch ha-Rav, Talmud Torah 3:1, ed. Y.A. Lev (Ashdod: 1989, 39 et seq.). And see R. Aharon Lichtenstein’s very comprehensive study entitled “Does Involvement in Torah Study Exempt One from Mitzvot?”, which appeared in Alei Etzion 16 (5769 [2009]), 71–107, which examines this issue in depth, dealing with questions of delaying procreation, Megillah reading, prayer, all mitzvot, etc., and seeks to explain Rambam’s position that “ha-osek be-mitzvah patur min ha-mitzvah” theoretically applies to Torah study too, when “it is studied with the purpose of performing” (91); and cf. ibid., 105, for his suggestive interpretation of the view of the Maharach Or Zarua. His study of this very complex issue is extremely rich and requires intense study. See also Moshe Zvi Polin, Sefer ha-Mitzpeh al ha-Rambam, vol. 1, (on Hilchot Talmud Torah) (Jerusalem: 2005, 11–26), that studying (lilmod ) and teaching (lelamed ) are two interconnected mitzvot. See Ramban Hilchot Talmud Torah 1:1; Hilchot Hagigah 3:1: that anyone who is obligated to study is obligated to teach, and cf. ibid., 1:4. I think this is the meaning of the statement in Seder Eliyahu Rabba, ed. Friedman, p. 63 =Tanna Debe Eliyahu, transl. W.G. Braude & I.J. Kapstein (JPS, 1981, 183) that “one who toils in Torah is like a lamp which provides light for the eyes of many.” And in this connection, it is also worth reading Benjamin Blech’s article “Personal Growth or Communal Responsibility: A Question of Priorities,” The Torah U-Madda Journal 2 (1990), 134–142. However, to give a slightly different point of view, see Hatam Sofer to Nedarim 81a; R. Hayyim Volozin’s Nefesh ha-Hayyim, Shaar Dalet, sect. 3; Ruah Hayyim to Avot 6:1, and the introduction to Eglei Tal.

A very extreme expression of this view is to be found in R. David Baharan’s “Hanhagot u-Piskei Halachah,” in Otzrot Yerushalayim, vol. 13 (Jerusalem: [2010?]), 40, where he insists one must learn halachah every day, and it is not sufficient to learn merely Gemara. He goes on to say that one must learn Shulhan Aruch Orah Hayyim or Hayyei Adam, and he who does not do so will surely have no part in the World to Come. (See also ibid., 41–42.)

See further R.S.Z. Auerbach, Halichot Shlomo . . . al Moadei ha-Shanah, ed. Y. Terner and A. Auerbach (Jerusalem: 2007), 537–539, who also is of the opinion that there are two aspects to Torah study: the one being to study in order to learn how to act properly, and the other as an independent positive commandment which is not just in order to know how to act, but the actual practice of learning as an end in its own right. He expands on this position bringing biblical and rabbinic sources to bear out this point of
view. However, here too he agrees that ultimately this is in order “to purify his body through the light of Torah, in order to cleave to God . . . who orders the world (àùø äìéëåú òåìí ìå), and without which the world cannot subsist (åáìà ÷éåîí – àéï î÷åí ÷éåí ìòåìí)” so that in the final reckoning this non-action-orientated
study is nonetheless direct to úé÷åï òåìí, the betterment of our world, (see ibid., 536).

[9] See Kuntres Aharon ibid., in the editor’s Midrashei ha-Kuntres, 36; and also Kuntres Aharon, Talmud Torah 4:3, that one interrupts
learning for persuading others to give charity, where others are less
persuasive, or helping in burying the dead, etc. See R. Mordechai Shmuel
Ashkenazi, ibid., 87 et seq.

See
further R. Ovadiah Yosef, Hazon Ovadiah: Sukkot
(Jerusalem: 2005, 168), on the special status of Talmud
Torah, because it is mandated at all times (îöåä
úîéãéú), and, hence, cannot exempt from other mitzvot, as this
would free us from all other mitzvot (citing the Birkei
Yosef of the Hida 38:7).

This
subject has most recently been examined in considerable detail, with a wealth
of sources, by R. Asi ha-Levi Even Yuli, in his Shulhan
Aruch ha-Middot, vol. 2, Halachah ve-Musar
(Jerusalem: 2009, 243–247). He shows that there are two opposing views. For the
Yosef Omez, by R. Yosef Juspa Kahn Neurelingen (c.
1639), (Frankfurt am Main: 1908, [reprint, Jerusalem: 1965] 316), writes that
the Rabbis said: Anyone who is involved in Torah learning and not in gemilut hasadim, acts of charity, is as one who has no
God. And therefore he wrote that a Torah scholar should make sure that every
day he should carry out one act of charity. And the Seder
ha-Yom (by R. Moshe ibn Machir [Venice: 1599], and numerous editions)
wrote that one must not interrupt the learning of Torah for any mitzvah which
can be carried out by another, with the exception of acts of charity. And
therefore the enthusiastic should take this to heart and pursue acts of charity
as one pursues life itself. (And see the continuation of this passage.) Even
Yuli further refers us to Responsa Aderet Tiferet
(by R. Avraham Dori, vol. 4, sect. 44), who following on the words of the Seder ha-Yom seeks to find additional support for this
view in the Rambam, citing the gemarot in BT Megillah 3b, 29a; BT Ketubot
17a as further proof, in that one interrupts Torah learning to accompany the
dead to his final resting place. (See below on this subject.) He then refers us
to the Sdei Hemed to which we referred earlier on.
However, this runs counter to the prevailing majority view found in a multitude
of rabbinic sources, to which he referred on 243–244, and therefore very
convincingly he rejects and refutes this argument on 246–247. See there in
detail. However, the above just underscores what we have tried to point out,
namely the complex ambiguity of the status of Torah study.

[10] See Rema, Even ha-Ezer 65:1; Ba”h
ibid., that even the leading Torah authority, Gedol
ha-Dor, does so. And even public learning is so interrupted, (Pnei Yehoshua to BT Ketubot
ibid., on the basis of Tosafot Megillah ibid.). However, see D. Friedman, Piskei Halachot, vol. 3 (Warsaw: 1901, 35), argues that
nowadays, that we are not intimately acquainted with the laws and our studies are directed to their correct understanding, therefore,
we do not interrupt Torah learning for wedding ceremonies. See, in detail, on
all the rules related to this subject, B. Adler, Ha-Nisuim
ke-Hilchatam, 2nd ed., vol. 2 (Jerusalem: 1985, 394–395).

Clearly
hachnasat kallah is related to the mitzvah of procreation,
which is one of the paramount duties of a man, in Jewish halachic thought. See
my Netivot Pesikah (Jerusalem: 2008, 162–163, n.
251). (And cf. below, sect. 30.)

Here
we may add that a communal positive mitzvah always takes precedence and outweighs
a private individual’s positive mitzvah. A teacher sitting shiva is forbidden to learn and teach Torah. However, he
is permitted to do so if the community needs him (Shulhan
Aruch Yoreh Deah 384:1). See Tzvi Marx, Halakha
and Handicap (Jerusalem: 1992–1993, 228).

[11] See Schechter’s note
in his edition of Avot de-R. Natan, n. 24, and p.
131, n. 10.

[12] Midrash
R. David ha-Nagid to Avot, ed. BenTziyyon
Kipnis (Jerusalem: 1944). The Arabic original appeared in Na Amon 1901. However, there are some doubts as to the
attribution of authorship. See Milhamot Ha-Shem by
R. Avraham ben ha-Rambam, ed. M. Margaliot (Jerusalem: 1953, 38, n. 8); A.
Katz, JQR 48
(1957), 140–160; Midrash R. David ha-Nagid to
Genesis, ed. A. Katz (Jerusalem: 1964, 16–18). On R. David ha-Nagid himself,
see A. Strauss (Ashtor), Toldot ha-Yehudim be-Mitzrayim
ve-Suriah tahat Shilton ha-Mamelukim, vol. 1 (Jerusalem: 1944, 117–128).

פורים בגבעת שאול – דיוקה של שמועה

פורים בגבעת
שאול – דיוקה של שמועה

מאת הרב שלמה הופמן

עורך השנתון ‘ירושתנו’

silhof@neto.bezeqint.net

ירושלים היא כיום העיר היחידה הידועה בבירור כמוקפת חומה מימות יהושע בן נון שקריאת המגילה נעשית בה ביום ט”ו לחודש אדר. עם היציאה מן החומות ובניית השכונות החדשות סביב העיר הישנה, התעוררה השאלה עד להיכן מתפשטת ירושלים – אם להחשיבה כחלק בלתי נפרד ממנה אם מדין “סמוך ונראה”. דיון זה עדיין לא נפשט בשכונותיה הרחוקות יותר של ירושלים – כשבחוד חנית הויכוח עומדת לה שכונת רמות הנעשית בכל שנה ושנה אגודות אגודות. קונטרסים וספרים ללא מספר נדפסו בענין. באחד הספרים שחובר על ידי תושב רמות[1], מציין המחבר בשער הספר את מקום מושבו: “רמות על יד ירושלים” – ומינה אתה כבר למד את דעתו והכרעתו בענין. אמנם בשכונותיה הקרובות לירושלים העתיקה והנמשכות מהן, הוכרע המנהג וההלכה לעשות את יום הפורים בחמשה עשר בו. למול הכרעה זו, ניצב, כדעת יחידאה[2], רבי יחיאל מיכל טוקצינסקי בעל ‘לוח לארץ ישראל’ הוותיק, אשר קבע בספרו[3] וכך הונצח בלוחו עד עצם היום הזה:

ובנוגע לירושלים החדשה – דע ש”הסמוך ונראה לכרך” באורו הסמוך ונראה לעיר העתיקה. וכל שכונה הרחוקה יותר ממיל מחומת ירושלים מימי יהושע… אין דינן כהכרך…

אף הוא מוסיף ומציין את הגבולות המדוייקים בשטח: ולדעתנו מן בית זקנים הספרדי והלאה למערב העיר (כיום רחוב “גשר החיים” ע”ש הגרימ”ט זצ”ל)… – צריכים לנהוג כבעיירות הספקות… וכמנהל מוסדות עץ חיים ונכסיה – ובכללם שכונת ‘עץ חיים’ העומדת מחוץ לגבולות ירושלים שקבע – עשה מעשה למעשה, ובלוחו – הממשיך לצאת לאור על ידי בנו וכיום ע”י נכדו, מופיעה מידי שנה בשנה ההודעה הקבועה דלהלן:

לידיעת האורחים בירושלים בשכונת עץ חיים (מול התחנה המרכזית בכניסה לירושלם) קורין המגילה בברכה בליל ויום י”ד. תפילת ערבית שעה… תפילת שחרית שעה…

כפי שניתן להבין מכותרת ההודעה, אין מנין זה משמש אלא את “האורחים בירושלים”, וכבר העירו והעידו כי: “גם שם כמדומה שאין אחד מבני המקום גופא מעיז לברך, אלא אחד הבא מעיר פרוזה וחוזר לשם בלילה וחוזר ובא למחרת בבוקר”[4]. רש”י זוין בדברי בקרותו על הלוח תמה וכותב: “יש להתפלא על המחבר: כל שנה ושנה הוא חוזר ומפרסם דעתו זו בלוחותיו, בשעה שהוא רואה ויודע שלמעשה נוהגים אחרת. כל ירושלים החדשה קוראת בט”ו”[5].

באוירת הימים, יובא תיאורו של מחבר נוסף התמה על דעת הרב טוקצינסקי, ומחדד את תמיהתו באמצעות משל: …במחילת כבוד תורתו אינני מבין את דבריו בענין סוף מהלך מיל מחומת ירושלים, דלפי דבריו נגמר המיל באמצעו של רח’ גשר החיים וכי רח’ זה חוצה בין סמוך לירושלים לבין רחוק מירושלים, זאת אומרת שהבתים העומדים במזרחו של רח’ זה הם סמוכים לירושלים והבתים העומדים במערבו של רח’ זה הם רחוקים מירושלים. ובכן ברח’ זה ביום י”ד אדר קרה מעשה כעלעלם, יהודי היושב במס’ 9 ברח’ זה קרה שבליל י”ד אדר לקח את המגילה ללכת לבית הכנסת “זכרון בתיה” במס’ 12 במערבו של רח’ זה בכן הוא צריך לשמוע את המגילה בליל י”ד, אמנם בבואו לבית הכנסת הנ”ל לעגו ממנו כל המתפללים באמרם אליו הלא פורים היוא בליל מחרת ולא בלילה הזה, כמובן שזה היהודי הטמין את המגילה התפלל ערבית כרגיל מבלי הזכרת “על הנסים”, זה היהודי חזר לביתו לאכול ארוחת ערב כרגיל, באמצע ברכת המזון שמעה אשתו שאינו מזכיר על הנסים צעקה עליו על שאינו מזכיר על הנסים הלא פורים היום הזכיר על הנסים והחליט שהיום פורים, בבקר הלך לבית הכנסת הנ”ל ומגילה בידו בכדי לשמוע את קריאת המגילה, והנה המקרה של אתמול בלילה חזר גם היום והפעם נזפו בו קשות היתכן שיהודי יתבסם לפני תפלת שחרית, וזה היהודי הטמין את המגילה התפלל שחרית בלי הזכרת על הנסים וחזר לביתו לאכול ארוחת בקר כרגיל, אחרי הארוחה אמר לשאתו שהוא הולך לעבודתו, אשתו שמעה זאת צעקה והזעיקה את השכנים בקול גדול ראו בעלי נהיה עבריין אינו שומר את מצוותיו של יום הפורים, בכן זה האומלל נפשו בשאלתו שיורו לו מה לעשות שיינצל מהלעג של חבריו ומצעקותיה של אשתו, זה סיפור חלמאי שקרה ביום י”ד אדר ברח’ גשר החיים בירושלים[6].

על ההכרעה בשכונת גבעת שאול, מספר הרב שלמה זלמן זוננפלד בספרו על תולדות זקנו רבי יוסף חיים זוננפלד, תחת הכותרת “דייקן בלשון רבו”:

כאשר נתעורר ענין קריאת המגילה בשכונות החדשות אשר בפרברי ירושלים, והרב מיכל טוקצינסקי הנהיג קריאת המגילה בי”ד ובט”ו בשכונת “עץ חיים”, וטען שכן יש לנהוג גם בבית היתומים דיסקין, בי”ד בברכה ובט”ו בלא ברכה. טען כנגדו הגרא”י קוק ואמר: הלא רוצים אנחנו להרחיב את גבולותיה של ירושלים בבחינת “פרזות תשב ירושלים”, ואתה בא לצמצמה. פנו למורנו ושאלו לדעתו, והוא השיב: “יודע אני כי מורי ורבי הרב מבריסק רכש את המגרש שעליו עומד בית היתומים, והוא כתב אז ופירסם שהוא רכש מגרש בירושלים עבור בית היתומים, ואם אתם קורין את המגילה בבית היתומים בי”ד, נמצאתם אומרים ששם לא ירושלים, והרי רבינו דייקן בדבריו היה, ומזה אנו מסקינן להלכה, לקרוא רק בט”ו ולא בי”ד”[7]. משמועה זו למדים אנו, כי לכשנדייק בלשון המהרי”ל דיסקין, נמצא כי הורה בבירור כי שכונת גבעת שאול – בכלל ירושלים היא. שמועה זו התפרסמה ואף נתקבלה להלכה, הרב אבגדֹר נבנצאל רבה של ירושלים העתיקה השיב כסמך לשאלה שנשאל: …שאר ירושלים …מה שקורין בה מגילה בט”ו, הוא מפני שהכל נמשך אחר העיר העתיקה, כי בתים שמחברים. כשבנו את “בית היתומים דיסקין” ואז עוד לא היו בתים שיחברו לשאר העיר, נשאל מרן רבי יוסף חיים זוננפלד זצ”ל על זמן קריאת המגילה שם, והשיב שהיות וכשהמהרי”ל דיסקין אסף כסף לבנות בית יתומים, הוא אמר שהוא אוסף כסף בשביל בית יתומים “בירושלים” אז זה ירושלים…[8]

אלא שדא עקא!

הרב נפתלי צבי פרוש-גליקמן, מספר בזכרונותיו על תולדות בית היתומים דיסקין: בית היתומים דיסקין נוסד בשנת תר”מ על ידי מרן הגאון קוה”ק רבי יהושע ליב דיסקין זצוק”ל גאב”ד בריסק… ראשיתו של המוסד באחת החצרות של הרובע היהודי בעיר העתיקה, רק בשנת תרנ”ד, רכש עבורו הגאון מבריסק זצוק”ל בית מיוחד… לאחר פטירתו של מרן הגאון זצוק”ל עלה לירושלים, בנו יחידו הגאון רבי יצחק ירוחם דיסקין זצ”ל שפרש חסותו על מוסד מיוחד במינו זה… בשנת תרפ”ד זכיתי להתמנות להיות גבאי וחבר ההנהלה של בית היתומים… כאשר עלתה על הפרק שאלת רכישת אדמה לבנין בית היתומים, הוזמנתי על ידי הגר”י דיסקין לבדוק את ההצעות השונות ולחוות את דעתי… לאחר מכן הוצעו שני מגרשים אחרים, האחד המקום שעליו בנוי היום לתפארת הבנין הגדול של בית יתומים דיסקין… המנהלים העדיפו את המקום הראשון…[9]

היכן היה ה”בית המיוחד” ש”רכש עבורו הגאון מבריסק זצוק”ל” – לא נתפרש כאן, אך כמובן לא היה זה בשכונת גבעת שאול – שנוסדה רק בשנת תר”ע[10]. ומעניין לציין אל דברי ההיסטוריון וחוקר בתי ירושלים ושכונותיה, שבתי זכריה, אודות בית הספר תחכמוני:

מוסד מפורסם זה התקיים בשכונה [-מקור ברוך] עשרות שנים. בית הספר הגיע אל השכונה בשנת תרפ”ט (1929)… מלכתחילה נבנו בנייניו של בית הספר עבור בית היתומים דיסקין, אך משום מה לא עבר בית היתומים למקום, ובזמן מלחמת העולם הראשונה שימש הבניין כקרסטין לצבא התורכי. לאחר מכן שימש המקום לתעשיות שונות… היום שוכן בו תלמוד תורה המסורה…[11]

את מקורותיו – אין ש’ זכריה מציין, אך מבין השיטין ניתן לשער כי בניית בנין זה בעבור בית היתומים – אמנם היתה לפני מלחמת העולם הראשונה, אבל לאחר פטירת הרי”ל דיסקין (שנפטר בשנת תרנ”ח). על אחת כמה וכמה שרכישת המגרש בגבעת שאול – נעשתה שנים רבות לאחר מכן – וכאמור בעדותו וזכרונותיו של רנ”צ פרוש-גליקמן – לאחר שנת תרפ”ד.

המעשה ביסודו – היֹה היה, אלא שכדרכן של שמועות, השתנה בהורקה מכלי אל כלי. ואם אמנם רבי יוסף חיים זוננפלד, “דייקן בלשון רבו” היה, אך מעבירי השמועה לא דייקו בלשון סיפורם. כך מספר הרב אברהם משה קצנלנבוגן בשם זקנו בעל המעשה:

במרומי השכונה “גבעת שאול” בדרך העולה לירושלים, נבנה מוסד בית היתומים דיסקין, שהגה ויסד הגאון מבריסק רבינו יהושע לייב זצ”ל, ואת הבנין הקים בנו הגאון רבי יצחק ירוחם זצ”ל. המוסד השתקם שם בר”ח ניסן תרפ”ז, ובאותה תקופה, היתה גבעת שאול, שכונה שוממה, זרועה בתים בודדים, ומובן שעד החומות של העיר העתיקה, לא היה רצף של ישוב. לשנה הבאה (תרפ”ח) כשבירכו חודש אדר, התעוררה השאלה, כיצד ינהגו בקריאת המגילה, המתגוררים בבית היתומים. הפוסקים היו חלוקים בדעותיהם, חלקם סבר שיש לקרוא את המגילה ביום י”ד מאחר והעיר העתיקה אינה נראית, והמקום לא סמוך, אחרים אמרו שמחמת הספק צריכים לקרוא גם בי”ד וגם בט”ו. בין החולקים ניצב זקיני מורי ורבי הגאון רבי רפאל זצ”ל שסבר כי חייבים לקרוא אך ורק ביום ט”ו, כפי שקוראים בירושלים עיה”ק. פסק ההלכה על מוסד דיסקין הדריך את מנוחתם של כמה מחכמי ירושלים, ולכשנתוועדו בצוותא הוחלט לשאול את פי הגאון רבי יוסף חיים זוננפלד זצ”ל. וכך סיפר זקיני מו”ר הגאון זצ”ל: כששטחתי את הענין לפני רבי יוסף חיים זצ”ל סיפר לי, כי ידוע לו שהגאון רבי יהושע לייב זצ”ל, יסד את המוסד שלו בירושלים דוקא, ולא במקום אחר, ואם נקבע שאת המגילה קוראים בי”ד ולא כמו בירושלים, בט”ו, נאלץ להקים בית חדש למוסד דיסקין במקום שקוראים בו בט”ו. ומאז קוראים שם בט”ו[12].

לכשנדייק בלשון עדות בעל המעשה זה נמצאנו למדים, כי לא הוראה של מהרי”ל דיסקין היתה כאן, אלא הוראה של רבי יוסף חיים זוננפלד – שהוסיף בשנינות: על פי הוראתו של מהרי”ל דיסקין, מוסד בית היתומים צריך לשכון בירושלים דווקא, ואם אנחנו נסיק שגבעת שאול אינה ירושלים, עלינו להעביר את המוסד למקום אחר – מקום בו אנו סבורים שהוא ירושלים.

ראוי לציין כי דעתו של מהרי”ל דיסקין עצמו בענין זה נדפסה בספרו: “ולענין סמוך לא משכחת לה כלל, דכל שאין שיעור מיל פנוי בינתים חשיבא סמוך”[13].

[1]
ספר שערי זבולון, חובר ע”י ר”ז שוב, בשנת תשמ”ט.

[2]
רש”ד דבליצקי, ירושלים הרים סביב לה, בני ברק תשמ”ט, עמ’
9 כותב: “למעשה מצאנו לו אך חבר אחד והוא הגאון ר’ משה נחמיה כהניו
מחאסלאוויץ זצ”ל בתורה מציון משנת תרמ”ז, ולא נהוג עלמא כוותיהו”.

[3]
עיר הקדש והמקדש, ח”ג ירושלים תשכ”ט, פרק כז.

[4]
רש”ד דבליצקי, שם. וראה דברי רי”מ טוקצינסקי בספרו
הנ”ל שם עמ’ תכז.

[5]
רש”י זוין, סופרים וספרים, ח”א תל אביב תשי”ט, עמ’
359.

[6]
רא”ב קעפעטש, חומות ירושלים, ירושלים תשמ”ט, עמ’ י-יא.
(על משל זה, העיר רבי שלמה זלמן אויערבאך: “עלות השחר קובע ולא כל רגע”
– שם בספר עמ’ ל).

[7]
רש”ז זוננפלד, האיש על החומה, ח”א ירושלים תשל”ה,
עמ’ 214-215.

[8]
ר”א נבנצאל, סבו ציון, ירושלים, עמ’ פא.

[9]
רנ”צ פרוש-גליקמן, (רמ”ע דרוק עורך), שלשה דורות
בירושלים, ירושלים תשל”ח, עמ’ 172-173.

[10]
י’ שפירא, ירושלים מחוץ לחומה, ירושלים תש”ח, עמ’ 139.

[11]
ש. זכריה, ירושלים של מטה, ירושלים תשס”ג, עמ’ 311.

[12]
רמיי”ל דיסקין, אהלים – מגילה (עורך: רא”מ קצנלנבוגן),
ירושלים תשנ”ג, עמ’ תמט.

[13] שו”ת מהרי”ל דיסקין, קונטרס
אחרון סי’ ג אות קג. (וראה עוד בדברי תלמידו רצ”מ שפירא, ציץ הקדש, ח”א
סי’ נב).

The Ethics of the Case of Amalek: An Alternative Reading of the Biblical Data and the Jewish Tradition

by Reuven Kimelman

This study of Amalek deals with seven questions.

1. Is the battle against Amalek primarily ethnic or ethical?

2. What is the difference in reading the biblical data starting with Exodus and Deuteronomy or starting with I Samuel 15?

3. What is the evidence that the Bible already seeks ethical justification for punishing Amalek?

4. How does post-biblical literature in general and rabbinic literature in particular further the transformation of Amalek into an ethical category?

5. How is the “Sennacherib principle” applied to Amalek?

6. How is Amalek de-demonized?

7. How can Haman be an Amalekite when according to 1 Chronicles 4:43 the remnant of Amalek had been wiped out?

1. Introduction
This study deals with the wars against Amalek. The popular conception is that the Bible demands their extermination thereby providing a precedent for genocide.[1] This reading of Amalek filters the Torah material through the prism of Saul’s battle against Amalek in the Book of Samuel. The total biblical data is much more ambiguous making the most destructive comments the exception not the rule as will be evident from a systematic analysis of all the Amalek material in the Bible.

2. AMALEK
The first biblical reference to Amalek appears in Exodus 17:

7The place was named Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites quarreled and because they tried the Lord, saying, “Is the Lord present among us or not?” 8Amalek came and fought with Israel at Rephidim. 9Moses said to Joshua, “Pick some men for us, and go out and do battle with
Amalek. Tomorrow I will station myself on the top of the hill, with the rod of God in my hand.” Joshua did as Moses told him and fought with Amalek, while Moses, Aaron, and Hur went up to the top of the hill. 11Then, whenever Moses held up his hand, Israel prevailed; but whenever he let down his hand, Amalek prevailed. 12But Moses’ hands grew heavy; so they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it, while Aaron and Hur, one on each side, supported his hands; thus his hands were faithful until the sun set. 13And Joshua overwhelmed the people of Amalek with the sword. Then the Lord said to Moses, “Inscribe this in a document as a reminder, and recite in the ears of Joshua:[2] ‘I will utterly blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven.’ ” 15And Moses built an altar and named it Adonai-nissi. He said, “It means, ‘Hand upon the thro[ne] of the Lo[rd]!’ The Lord will be at war with Amalek throughout the ages.”

This text raises many questions: (1) why could Moses not keep his hands up fully aware that as long as they were raised Israel prevailed, (2) why are the hands of Moses called “faithful,” (3) why was it inscribed in a document and told specifically to Joshua that God — not he — is to blot out Amalek, (4) why is it God — not Israel — who will be at war with Amalek, and if God is waging the war (5) why does God not finish them off as was done with the Egyptians at the Sea rather than extending it throughout the ages. Finally, (6) why do the terms for God and throne appear in the Hebrew orthographically truncated? The inability to account for these matters in literal terms has generated the view that the battle between Amalek and God serves as a metaphor for the conflict between human evil and divine authority where human evil truncates, as if were, the divine presence and authority.[3] The metaphorical reading would account for locating the war with Amalek in Exodus after a crisis of faith — “Is the Lord present among us or not?” (17:7)[4] and why the hands of Moses are described as faithful, namely, faith generating. It also accounts for its location in Deuteronomy after a warning against dishonest business practices that ends with “For everyone who does those things, everyone who deals dishonestly, is abhorrent to the Lord your God” (25:16).[5]

The appearance of Amalek is thus correlated with the absence of faith and morality. Its presence signifies their absence. The position is epitomized in the rabbinic statement: “As long as the seed of Amalek is in the world neither God’s name nor His throne is whole. Were the seed of Amalek to perish from the world the Name would be whole and the throne would be whole.”[6] In fact, an alternative version explicitly states “the wicked” instead of Amalek.[7] Thus the war against Amalek is not against a specific ethnicity, but the human ethical condition. Such a battle ultimately can only be waged by God not Joshua. Therefore Joshua is pointedly told that what he started with the historical Amalek is not his job to finish since that can only be done by God. In sum, the more Amalek comes to embody moral evil, the more it moves from ethnicity to ethics.

It is generally assumed that the metamorphosis of Amalek from the ethnic to the ethical is a product of post-biblical exegesis, absent in the Bible itself. Alternatively, the aforementioned terminological peculiarities reflect a process of metaphorization already evident in the Bible. The possibility that the Exodus text was already understood metaphorically in the Bible may be gathered from the other references to the actual nation of Amalek which lack awareness of the Exodus text. Thus in the next reference to Amalek, in Numbers 13:29 and 14:25, they are designated by their location only. Numbers 14:43-45 warns Israel:

42Do not go up, lest you be routed by your enemies, for the Lord is not in your midst. 43 For the Amalekites and the Canaanites will be there to face you, and you will fall by the sword, inasmuch as you have turned from following the Lord· and the Lord will not be with you.” 44Yet defiantly they marched toward the crest of the hill country, though neither the Ark of the Covenant nor Moses stirred from the camp. 45And the Amalekites and the Canaanites who dwelt in that hill country came down and pummeled them to/at Hormah.

There is no allusion to the Exodus episode unless it is in the metaphorical explanation that Israel meets defeat because they turn away from God. In any case, there is no command to do away with Amalek nor any special comment about them. In Numbers 24:20, it is predicted that Amalek will be gone or perish forever without any mention that Israel will destroy them.[8] It correlates well with the last biblical mention of Amalek in 1 Chronicles 4:43 where it is recorded that the last remnant of Amalek was done away with as part of its conflict with the tribe of Simeon, but not because of any mandated war against them.

The next reference to Amalek is in Deuteronomy 25. It adds three elements. It seeks to provide a basis for retributive justice by charging Amalek with an unprovoked ambush of the defenseless, seeking to “cut down all the stragglers in your rear.” It is precisely their immorality
that triggered the demand for retribution.[9] It also delays the battle until all the borders have been secured thereby removing it from any defense or security agenda. This process is extended by later authorities who further postponed the struggle with Amalek till the kingship was instituted and the Temple built,[10] while others delayed it to the messianic age.[11] And lastly, it shifts the responsibility for such retribution from God to Israel. It goes like this:

17Bear in mind what Amalek did to you on your journey, after you left Egypt—18how, he surprised you on the march, when you were famished and weary, and undeterred by fear of God, cut down all the stragglers in your rear. 19Therefore, when the Lord your God grants you safety from all your enemies around you, in the land that the Lord your God is giving you as a hereditary portion, you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget!

This description, especially the expression “undeterred by fear of God,” provoked various classical commentators to level against Amalek a slew of charges such as insolence, immorality in warfare, undermining divine authority,[12] and provoking other nations to attack Israel.[13] Thus it was claimed that they were “justly suffering the punishment which they wrongly strove to deal to others.”[14] Others, however, claimed that the expression “not fearing God” applied to Israel just as do the preceding expressions “famished and weary.”[15] Faulting Israel for “not fearing God” correlates with faulting Israel for the lack of faith, in Exodus 17:7, which precipitated the onslaught of Amalek in 17:8.[16]

Amalek next appears in The Book of Judges.[17] He is described as a launcher of raids into the Israelite heartland without any special comment. In fact, he is sometimes associated there with Midian, who becomes the object of Israel’s wrath (ibid., 6:15), not Amalek. The absence of any special enmity for Amalek is telling.

The next reference to Amalek in 1 Samuel 15 is fateful. It places the responsibility to blot out the memory of Amalek on the king and identifies “the memory” with all the people and livestock. This position was harmonized with Deuteronomy’s position that it is the people’s responsibility by maintaining that the demand devolves upon the people only when led by a king in an act of war.[18] It states:

1Samuel said to Saul, “I am the one the Lord sent to anoint you king over His people Israel. Therefore, heed the voice of the Lord’s words. 2‘Thus said the Lord of Hosts: I am exacting the penalty for what Amalek did to Israel, for the assault he made upon them on the road, on their way up from Egypt.’ 3“Now, go attack Amalek, and proscribe all that belongs to him. Spare no one, but kill alike men and women, infants and sucklings, oxen and sheep, camels and asses.”

There are two ways of parsing this section. Either both verse two and three are God’s, or only verse two while three is Samuel’s inference. According to the second parsing, we have here Samuel’s interpretation and application. He places the responsibility to blot out the memory of Amalek on the king, he interprets “blotting out” as physical extermination, and identifies “the memory” with all the people and livestock. Samuel thereby extends the innovation of Deuteronomy seven of including Canaanites in the proscription of Israelite idolators to the Amalekites.[19] This move was perceived as so harsh that the talmudic rabbi, R. Mani, had King Saul himself protest the order objecting that even if the adult males were guilty the children and livestock were not.[20] Since there is no similar objection with regard to the Amalek material in the Torah, the Torah material was not understood as including children and livestock. Saul’s objection in the Talmud must hence be against Samuel’s interpretation that the proscription of Amalek includes the destruction of those who did not partake in Amalek’s dastardly deeds. After all, Exodus faults Amalek for mounting the attack at all, whereas Deuteronomy focuses on their crude cowardice of attacking the stragglers. Both accusations are limited to those who fought.

Just as Samuel expanded the biblical data, Maimonides later on circumscribed Samuel’s
position and harmonized it with Deuteronomy by limiting the attack on Amalek to the people when led by a king in an act of war.[21] He thus ruled that the appointment of a king precedes the war against Amalek. Since he also ruled there that the destruction of Amalek precedes the building of the Temple,[22] he ends up severely restricting its application to the period between the appointment of the king and the building of the Temple. In biblical chronology, that limits it to the reign of Saul and David. Even that, is not as limiting as the Bible itself since there is no mention of Amalek with regard to David’s failed attempt, or Solomon’s successful attempt, to build the Temple nor do either seek to do away with Amalek. Presumably, Amalek was already irrelevant or that Samuel’s understanding of Amalek was never accepted. This, as shall see, makes most sense of the biblical data.

Besides limiting the morally outrageous ruling on Amalek to a specific time, it was limited by a process of moral justification. This process begins already in Deuteronomy by spelling out their felonious behaviour and continues in the Book of Samuel. Samuel thus justifies his slaying of the king of Amalek, Agag, not by referring to crimes of long ago but to recent ones, saying: “As your sword has bereaved women, so shall your mother be bereaved among women” (I Samuel 15:33).[23] By understanding the king as representative of the people, a four hundred year vendetta becomes a quid pro quod judicial execution. Only those who have wielded the sword will die by the sword. [24] Lurking behind this understanding is obviously the verse “A man shall be put to death [only] for his own sin” (Deuteronomy 24:16). A verse which was already used in the Bible (2 Kings 14:6 = 2 Chronicles 25:4) to prevent cross-generational vendettas. A similar understanding of the battle against Amalek as justified retribution appears in the reference to Amalek immediately preceding our story in 1 Samuel 14:48: “He (King Saul) was triumphant, defeating the Amalekites and saving Israel from those who have plundered it.” If the Hebrew of “and” is taken, as it sometimes is, as “namely,”[25] then Saul’s defeat of the Amalek is in response to Amalek’s plundering of Israel.

This reading that Amalek should only get as they gave is justified by David’s tit-for-tat response to Amalek’s plundering. 1 Samuel 30 states what Amalek did to Israel:

1By the time David and his men arrived in Ziklag, on the third day, the Amalekites had made a raid into the Negev and against Ziklag; they had stormed Ziklag and burned it down. 2They had taken the women in it captive, low-born and high-born alike; they did not kill any, but carried them off and went their way.

Again Amalek attacked the weak left behind. What did David do? Not knowing what to do he inquired of the Lord:

7David said to the priest Abiathar son of Ahimelech, “Bring the ephod up to me.” 8When Abiathar brought up the ephod to David, inquired of the Lord, “Shall I pursue those raiders? Will I overtake them?” And He answered him, “Pursue, for you shall overtake and you shall rescue.”

Evidently, there was no recourse to any standing order to kill Amalek. Indeed, nothing is made of the fact that they are Amalekites. They are simply called raiders. David’s counterattack sought only to recoup his own. Amalekites who fled are left alone and the livestock is taken as spoil:

17David attacked them from before dawn until the evening of the next day; none of them escaped, except four hundred young men who mounted camels and got away. 18David rescued everything the Amalekites had taken; David also rescued his two wives. 19Nothing of theirs was missing—young or old, sons or daughters, spoil or anything else that had been carried off —David recovered everything. 20David took all the flocks and herds, which [the troops] drove ahead of the other livestock; and they declared, “This is David’s spoil.”

Note that there is no condemnation of David, à la Saul, for not slaying Amalek or for taking the spoil. Similarly, 1 Chronicles 18:11 records that David dedicated to God the spoils of Amalek[26] just as he did to those of Edom, Moab, Ammon, and the Philistines. Again Amalek is treated as other enemies without a distinctive comment or special treatment just as is the case in Psalm 83:7-9 which lists Amalek among the many enemies of Israel. One tradition, cited by Rashi and Radak to 2 Chronicles 20:1, has the Amalekites trying to pass as Ammonites to wage war against Israel in the time of Jehoshaphat, whereas another, based on Numbers 21:1, has them trying to pass as Canaanites to exploit Israel’s vulnerability upon the death of Aaron.[27]

The final case which shows that the treatment of Amalek was not different from other enemies is David’s encounter with the Amalekite who slew King Saul in 2 Samuel 1:

4“What happened?” asked David. “Tell me!” And he told him how the troops had fled the battlefield, and that, moreover, many of the troops had fallen and died; also that Saul and his son Jonathan were dead. 5“How do you know,” David asked the young man who brought him the news, “that Saul and his son Jonathan are dead?” 6The young man who brought him the news answered, “I happened to be at Mount Gilboa, and I saw Saul leaning on his spear, and the chariots and horsemen closing in on him. 7He looked around and saw me, and he called to me. When I responded, ‘At your service,’ 8he asked me, ‘Who are you?’ And I told him that I was an Amalekite. 9Then he said to me, ‘Stand over me, and finish me off for I am in agony and am barely alive.’ 10So I stood over him and finished him off, for I knew that he would never rise from where he was lying. Then I took the crown from his head and the armlet from his arm, and I have brought them here to my lord.” … 13David said to the young man who had brought him the news, “Where are you from?” He replied, “I am the son of a resident alien, an Amalekite.” 14“How did you dare,” David said to him, “to lift your hand and kill the Lord’s anointed?” 15Thereupon David called one of the attendants and said to him, “Come over and strike him!” He struck him down and he died. 16And David said to him, “Your blood be on your own head! Your own mouth testified against you when you said, ‘I put the Lord’s anointed to death.’ ”

The Amalekite who informed David that he had slain Saul at his request expected a reward not retribution. The fact that he tells David that he informed Saul that he is an Amalekite indicates his obliviousness of any Israelite crusade to do away with Amalek. Indeed, as we have seen, David treated Amalek no different than any other enemy.

Samuel’s demand for the wholesale killing of Amalek thus stands as the exception not the norm. It does not even coincide with the other biblical data. After all, if Saul had slain all the Amalekites why did they remain so numerous in David’s time? In Numbers, Judges, and elsewhere in 1 Samuel (14:48, 27:8) Amalek gets the same quid pro quod treatment as other ancient enemies. This is even their lot at the hands of Saul in 1 Samuel 14:48.

The normalization of Amalek reaches its peak in the en passant record of their destruction in 1 Chronicles 4:41-43:

41 Those recorded by name came in the days of King Hezekiah of Judah and attacked their encampments and the Meunim who were found there, and wiped them out to this day, and settled in their place because there was pasture there for their flocks. 42 And some of them, five hundred of the Simeonites, went to mount Seir with Pelatiah, Neariah, Rephaiah, and Uzziel, sons of Ishi, at their head. 43 Having destroyed the last surviving Amalekites, they live there to
this day.

The destruction of the remnant of Amalek is told as part of a local conflict with the tribe of Simeon during the reign Hezekiah in the late eighth century BCE. Neither king, prophet, or God is involved. No biblical precedent is noted. It simply is not a big deal. Any subsequent reference or allusion to Amalek is perforce metaphorical. The major biblical example of the metaphoraization of Amalek is Haman, the would-be exterminator of the Jews in the Book of Esther. The association of Amalek with Haman through the term ‘Agagite’ is a consequential development in the move from the ethnic to the ethical. Since, as 1 Chronicles 4:43 notes, the last Amalekites were done away centuries earlier, the association of Amalek with Haman is part of the move of identifying Amalek with their historical wannabees. Apparently, aware of the historical problem, the Greek versions of Esther 3:1 call Haman, or his father Hammedatha, a Bougaean or Macedonian not the Agagite. The Talmud itself understood Hammedatha, in Esther 3:1, 10, as an expression of moral opprobrium.[28]

The Haman case is complex and requires extended analysis. It is common to see the conflict between Mordecai and Haman as an episode in the ongoing bout between Israel and Amalek by linking Mordecai with King Saul and Haman with Amalek. Both links are problematic. The identification of Mordecai with Saul is based on identifying Saul with “the son of Jair, the son of Shimi, the son of Kish, a man of Benjamin” (Esther 2:5). The assumption is that Kish is the Benjaminite Kish, the father of Saul (1 Samuel 9:1),[29] yet no mention is made of the most illustrious and pertinent ancestor — King Saul. Moreover, Jair is not a Benjamite name, but rather a son of Manasseh according to Numbers 32:41, or a priest of David according to 2 Samuel 20:26. Finally, Shimi is identified only as a member of the clan of Saul (2 Samuel 16:5), not as a descendant of Saul. Frustrated by these discrepancies, the Talmud takes Jair, Shimi, and Kish to be metaphorical epithets of Mordecai himself.[30]

With regard to designating Haman the Agagite (Esther 3:1, 10; 5:8; 8:1, 3, 5; 9:10, 24), note that Haman is not designated an Amalekite as other Amalekites are but only as an Agagite.[31] Moreover, the antagonism of Haman for Mordecai is attributed to Mordecai’s provocative
behavior (Esther 3:2-5), a stance he maintains even after the decree (Esther 5:9), and not to Haman’s genealogy. There is no evidence that Haman on his own had it in for the Jews. Similarly, the Greek Addition A to Esther (v. 17) attributes Haman’s ire against Mordecai and his people to Mordecai having exposed the plot against the king of the two eunuchs who, according to Josippon 4, were relatives of Haman. He only becomes subsequently the nefarious model of classical Judeophobia; ticked off by one Jew he seeks to eliminate all Jews.

Note that Haman is not executed because of his genealogy, but because of his murderous machinations. He is specifically hanged on the gallows he prepared for Mordecai as an expression of poetic justice and not for any long standing vendetta. As Samuel justifies Agag’s execution by his iniquitous acts so does the Book of Esther justify Haman’s by his. Neither is punished for the sins of their fathers. Similarly, the Book of Esther no more concludes with a mandate to remember Amalek than does the story of Saul and Agag. In both cases by doing away with the enemy, in Haman’s case also his sons, there remains no remnant in the story itself and the case is closed. Even Haman’s sons are slain not because of their father but because, as 9:5-10 notes, they numbered among the foes of the Jews. Had this been part of a historical vendetta, a tit-for-tat allusion to the impalement of Saul’s sons by the vindictive Gibeonites in 2 Samuel 21:9 would have been in order. Clearly, the moral structure of the book is predicated on a measure for measure system not on any historical retribution or squaring of accounts.

Instructively, if not ironically, Haman’s plan “to destroy, massacre, and exterminate all the Jews, young and old, children and women” (Esther 3:13) smacks of Samuel’s order to Saul: “kill alike men and women, infants and sucklings” (1 Samuel 15:3). In pointing out the moral absurdity of Haman’s designs there is an oblique critique of Samuel’s. Josephus indeed states that Haman’s hatred of the Jews derives from this incident,[32] as if to say that the Jews are now getting as they gave. A vendetta against Amalek has become a vendetta against the Jews. The Midrash, however, sees this as a preemptive comeuppance arguing that “God gave Amalek a taste of his own future work.”[33] The Midrash is extending Samuel’s moral justification for slaying Agag. Just as Samuel justified killing Agag because he killed others, so the Midrash justifies the order for wiping out Amalek because Haman ordered the wiping out of the Jews. Not able to anchor Amalek’s extraordinary punishment in any prior behavior, the Midrash perforce extends its moral compass to include Amalek’s future behavior. In any case, the issue remains moral.

This moral self-criticism extends to comments made about Amalek’s mother Timna. Accordingly to the Talmud, her efforts to convert were rejected by all three Patriarchs. Wanting to join this people at all cost, she marries Isaac’s grandson, through Esau, Eliphaz. The fruit of
this relationship is Amalek who goes on to aggrieve Israel for their having ticked off his mother Timna.[34] The insight is that Israel’s lack of receptivity to converts can trigger a resentment that leads to retributive vindictiveness.

The allusion to the Saul-Amalek incident explains another relevant peculiarity of the Book of Esther. Thrice, it states that “they did not lay hands on the spoils” (9:10, 15, 16) of those persons slain in trying to kill the Jews even though the royal edict (8:11) explicitly permitted it. Since the original decree specifically mentioned (3:13) the right of spoils for the slain Jews why did the Jews not act in kind? Unless it was to avoid transgressing the prohibition against taking the spoils of Amalek mentioned in 1 Samuel 15:3. But the murderous Persians are not of Amalek stock,[35] unlike the sons of Haman where the same scruple was adhered to (see Esther 9:10). If they are not of Amalek why were they treated as if they were? if not because they were Amalek in character. Despite no chance for spoils, now that government support had been rescinded, they pressed on to kill the Jews. Wanting to kill Jews for its own sake, they are dubbed thrice-fold not just the enemies of the Jews, but also their haters (Esther 9:1, 5, 16).[36]
Acting like Amalek, they are treated as Amalek, no longer an ethnic designation but an ethical metaphor.[37]

Maimonides also makes no special provision for Amalek when he argues that all wars must be preceded by overtures of peace indicating that were Amalek to sue for peace they would not be subject to destruction.[38] The ruling that all must be offered terms of peace flows from the following Midrash:

God commanded Moses to make war on Sihon, as it is said, ‘Engage him in battle’ (Deuteronomy 2:24), but he did not do so. Instead he sent messengers . . . to Sihon . . . with an offer of peace (Deuteronomy 2:26). God said to him: ‘I commanded you to make war with him, but instead you began with peace; by your life, I shall confirm your decision. Every war upon which Israel enters shall begin with an offer of peace, as it is written, “When
you approach a city to attack it, you shall offer it terms of peace”
(Deuteronomy 20:10).[39]

Since Joshua is said to have extended such an offer to the Canaanites,[40] and Numbers 27:21 points out Joshua’s need for inquiring of the priestly Urim and Tumim to assess the chances of victory, it is evident that also divinely-commanded wars are predicated on overtures of peace as well as on assessments of the outcome.[41] Moreover, the cross-generational struggle against Amalek, according to Maimonides, is limited to Amalek maintaining the practices of their biblical ancestors of rejecting the Noachide laws which stipulate the norms of human decency and civil society.[42] Were Amalek to accept them they would achieve the status of other Noachites. Again morality trumps biology.

The concern with the humanity of the enemy is also a factor. Referring to Deuteronomy 21:10ff. Josephus says the legislator of the Jews commands “showing consideration even to declared enemies. He . . . forbids even the spoiling of fallen combatants; he has taken measures to prevent outrage to prisoners of war, especially women.”[43] Apparently reflecting a similar sensibility, R. Joshua claimed that his biblical namesake took pains to prevent the disfigurement of fallen Amalekites,[44] whereas David brought glory to Israel by giving burial to his enemies.[45] It is this consideration for the humanity of the enemy that forms the basis of
Philo’s explanation for the biblical requirement in Numbers 31:19 of expiation for those who fought against Midian. He writes:

For though the slaughter of enemies is lawful, yet one who kills a man, even if he does so justly and in self-defense and under compulsion, has something to answer for, in view of the primal common kinship of mankind. And therefore, purification was needed for the slayers, to absolve them from what was held to have been a pollution.[46]

The position that the negation of Amalek is ethical not ethnic is also reflected in the following talmudic anecdote about Amalek’s ancestor Esau[47] who was later identified with Rome:

Antoninus (the Roman Emperor) asked Rabbi (Judah the Prince): Will I enter the world to come?” “Yes,” said Rabbi. “But,” said Antoninus, “is it not written, ‘And there will be no remnant to the house of Esau’ ” (Obadiah 18). (Rabbi replied) “The verse refers only to those who act as Esau acted.” We have learned elsewhere likewise: “And there will be no remnant of the house of Esau,” might have been taken to apply to all (of the house of Esau), therefore Scriptures says specifically — “of the house of Esau,” to limit it only to those who act as Esau acted.[48]

Once the criterion becomes behavior and not birth, the Talmud can claim that even the descendants of Haman the Amalekite became students of Torah.[49] Following suit, Maimonides ruled: “We accept converts from all nations of the world.”[50] Radak even entertains the possibility that the Amalekite who refers to himself as a ger in 2 Samuel 1:13 meant a convert to Judaism. For him and Maimonides, the wiping out of Amalek can be accomplished by the wiping out of Amalekite qualities. This is why Maimonides states with regard to Amalek: “It is also a positive commandment to remember always his evil deeds.”[51] He adopts the position of Sifrei Deuteronomy[52] that “remember” is fulfilled with the mouth, and “do not forget” is fulfilled through the heart. No act of violence is mandated against Amalek. So why, according to him, was Amalek punished so harshly to begin with? To deter future Amalek wannabees.[53]

As Amalek became more and more a metaphor for human evil, the eradication of Amalek from the national-historic plane was shifted to the metaphysical and psycho-spiritual.[54] The interioralization of Amalek imposes the duty of eradication on all. This shift parallels the aforementioned rabbinic reading of the Amalek episode in Exodus if not that of the Bible itself.

In the post-biblical period the shift from ethnicity to ethics is total. In both the Saul-Amalek and Haman episodes, Scripture indicates that no one remained. Their ethnicity was also rendered operationally defunct by applying the same “Sennacherib principle” to them that was applied to the long gone Canaanites.[55] This principle was based on the fact that Sennacherib, the king of Assyria, erased the national identity of those he conquered which included all of the nations of ancient Canaan and surrounding nations,[56] as he says: “I have erased the borders of the peoples; I have plundered their treasures, and exiled their vast populations” (Isaiah 10:13). Independent of the “Sennacherib principle,” others limited the moral relevance of the command against Amalek by restricting the waging of a war of total destruction against Amalek to King Saul.[57] Such limitations best reflects the total biblical data. Applying the “Sennacherib principle” and limiting the commandment to a specific period in the past or postponing it to the messianic age effectively removes the case of Amalek from the post-biblical ethical agenda.

In sum, there are four ways of rendering Amalek operationally defunct:
1. The recognition that the mandate for their extermination was a minority position based on Na”kh (1 Samuel 15), not confirmed in the rest of the Bible indeed implicitly denied.
2. The realization that the process of transmuting Amalek into a metaphor for human evil is rooted in the Torah (Exodus 17).
3. The limitation of the conflict to King Saul and/or postponing the battle to the messianic era
4. The application of the same “Sennacherib principle” to Amalek that was applied to the long gone Canaanites.

These four overlapping stratagems of the biblical and post-biblical exegetical tradition mitigate the ruling regarding the destruction of the Amalekites. This trumping of genealogy by ethics helps account for the absence of any drive to exterminate or dispossess Amalek even when Israel was at the height of its power under the reigns of David and Solomon.

[1]On the practice of
genocide in antiquity, see Louis Feldman, “Remember Amalek!”: Vengeance,
Zealotry, and Group Destruction in the Bible according to Philo, Pseudo-Philo,
and Josephus, (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 2004), pp. 2-6.

[2]Taking kee as
introducing direct speech; see The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old
Testament, eds. L. Koehler, W. Baumgartner, et al., (3 vols.,
Leiden: Brill, 1994-1996), 2:471a; and Amos Ḥעakham, Sefer Shmot,
(2 vols., Jerusalem: Mosad Harav Kook, 1991), 1:329a.

[3]See Pesikta de–Rav
Kahana 3; and Pesikta Rabbati 12.

[4] Which is how the
Midrash takes it; see Midrash Tanḥעuma, Be–Shalaḥע
25, p. 92; and Pesikta de–Rav Kahana 3.8, ed.
Mandelbaum, 1:47 with parallels in n. 5. Otherwise it should probably be
located several chapters later after the Sinaitic narrative.

[5]So Pesikta de
Rav-Kahana 3.4, ed. Mandelbaum, 1:42-43:

R. Banai, citing R. Huna, began his discourse
[on remembering Amalek] with the verse “A false balance is an abomination to
the Lord …” (Proverbs 11:1). And R. Banai, citing R. Huna, proceeded: When you
see a generation whose measures and balances are false, you may be certain that
a wicked kingdom will come to wage war against such a generation. And the
proof? The verse “A false balance is an abomination to the Lord” … which is
immediately followed by a verse that says, “The immoral kingdom will come and
bring humiliation [to Israel]” (Prov. 11:2).

See Rashi and Abarbanel
to Deuteronomy 25:17 with Tosafot to B. T. Kiddushin
33b, s. v. ve-eima.

[6]Pesikta De–Rav Kahana
3.16, ed. Mandelbaum, 1:53 with parallels in n. 8.

[7]See Menaḥem Kasher,
Torah Shelemah (Jerusalem: Beth Torah Shelemah, 1949-1991), 14:272f.

[8]This may be what allowed
Josephus (Antiquities 3:60) to say that Moses predicted that the
Amalekites would perish with utter annihilation.

[9]As spelled out in the
end of the first stanza of the kerovah of Parshat Zakhor; see the Yotzer
for Parshat Zakhor in The Complete ARTScroll Siddur for
Weekday/ Sabbath/ Festival, Nusach Ashkenaz (Brooklyn: Mesorah
Publications, 1990), p. 880f.

[10]Sifrei Deuteronomy 67, T.
Sanhedrin 4.5, B. T. Sanhedrin 20b.

[11]The eschatological
reading may already be in the Dead Sea Scroll 4Q252, 4.1-3; see Louis
Feldman, “Remember Amalek!”: Vengeance, Zealotry, and Group
Destruction in the Bible according to Philo, Pseudo-Philo, and Josephus
(Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 2004), p. 52f. It is clearly already
tannaitic. Rabbi Joshua reads Exodus 17:6 to mean “When God will sit on His
throne and His kingship is established — at that time will the Lord war on
Amalek.” And according to Rabbi Eliezer: “When will their names be blotted out?
When idolatry is uprooted along with its devotees,when the Lord is alone in the
world and His kingdom lasts forever– then the Lord will go out and war on
those people” (Mekhilta de–Rabbi Ishmael, ed.
Horowitz-Rabin, p. 186). See the version and discussion in Menahem Kahana, The
Two Mekhiltot on the Amalek Portion [Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Magnes Press,
1999), p. 239f. The Aramaic translation, Targum Jonathan, takes
the word “end” in Numbers 24:20, which refers to Amalek, as an allusion to the
Messianic era. For medievals who also postponed the conflict to the messianic
period, see Moses b. Jacob of Coucy, Sefer Mitsvot Gadol (SeMaG),
negative commandment #226; and R. David b. Zimra (RaDBaZ) with Maimonidean
Glosses to Hilkhot Melakhim 5:5.This probably includes Maimonides
since he made the battle with Amalek contingent upon a king, see his “Laws of
Kings and Their Wars,” 1:2.

[12]See Nachmanides,
Abarbanel, and Sforno ad loc., and Exodus 17:16 along with Josephus, Antiquities
4.304.

[13]See Josephus, Antiquities
3.41; Mekhilta de-Rabbi Ishmael, Amalek 1 (ed. Horovitz-Rabin), p. 176; Mekilta
de-Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai 81 (ed. Epstein-Melamed) 119; and the end of the
second stanza of the kerovah of Parshat Zakhor in The Complete
ARTScroll Siddur for Weekday/ Sabbath/ Festival, Nusach Ashkenaz (Brooklyn:
Mesorah Publications, 1990), p. 882f.

[14]Philo, The Life
of Moses, 1:218 (LCL 6:391).

[15]Mekhilta, Amalek 1, ed.
Horowitz-Rabin, p. 116, l. 9 (see p. 116, lines 3 and 18). See Ralbag
(Gersonides) as cited by Abarbanel ad loc.

[16]See Midrash Tannaim,
ad loc., ed. Hoffmann, p. 170; and Hizkuni ad loc.

[17]Judges 3:13; 6:3-5, 33;
7:12; 12:15. The
word עמלק
appears also in 5:14, but, based on the Septuagint, probably should be emended
to עמק.

[18]Based on B. T.
Sanhedrin 20b, Maimonides explicitly
states that the commandment devolves only on the collectivity not the
individual; see his Book of Commandments,
end of positive commandments #248. In his “Laws of Kings and Their Wars,” 1:2,
based on 1 Samuel 15:1-3, Maimonides rules that the appointment of a king
precedes the war against Amalek. He also rules there that the destruction of
Amalek precedes the building of the Temple; see Sifrei Deuteronomy 67, ed. Finkelstein, p. 132, with n. 4.
Nonetheless, there is no mention of Amalek with regard to David’s failed
attempt, or Solomon’s successful attempt, to build it. Presumably, Amalek had
already disappeared or was irrelevant.

[19]See Michael Fishbane, The JPS Bible Commentary Haftarot
(Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 2002), p. 344f.

[20]B. T. Yoma
22b; and Yalqut Shimoni 2:121 (Genesis–Former
Prophets [10 vols., ed. Heyman-Shiloni, Jerusalem: Mosad Harav Kook,
1973-1999], Former Prophets, p. 242 with parallels).

[21]Based on B. T.
Sanhedrin 20b, Maimonides explicitly
states that the commandment devolves only on the collectivity not the
individual; see his Book of Commandments,
end of positive commandments #248.

[22]“Laws of Kings and Their
Wars,” 1:2; see Sifrei Deuteronomy 67, ed. Finkelstein, p. 132, with n. 4.

[23]This sentiment leads, in
the nineteenth century, Avraham Sachatchover (Bornstein) to reject the idea
that the seed of Amalek is punished for the sins of their fathers, for it is
written (Deuteronomy 24:16): “Fathers shall not be put to death for children,
neither shall children be put to death for fathers.” Thus the punishment
of Amalek is contingent upon their maintaining the ways of their fathers (Avnei Nezer, part 1: Orahע Ḥayyim [New York: Hevrat Nezer, 1954]
2.508).

[24]As Maimonides states:
“Amalek who hastened to use the sword should be exterminated by the sword” (Guide for the Perplexed 3:41. ed. Pines, p. 566); see
Eugene Korn, “Moralization in Jewish Law: Genocide, Divine Commands and
Rabbinic Reasoning,” The Edah Journal
5:2 (Sivan 5766/2006), pp. 2-11, especially p. 9.

[25]See The Hebrew and Aramaic
Lexicon of the Old Testament,
eds. L. Koehler, W. Baumgartner, et al., (3 vols., Leiden: Brill, 1994-1996)
1:258a

[26]Just as Saul, in 1
Samuel 15:15b, claimed was his intention.

[27]See Numbers Rabbah 19.20, Yalkut Shimoni 1:764 with Menahem Kasher, Torah Shleimah 41:196,
nn. 4-5.

[28] צורר בן צורר, see P. T.
Yevamot 2:5 with Penei Moshe ad loc.; and Agadat Esther 3.1, ed.
Buber, p. 26, along with Louis Ginzberg, Legends
of the Jews, 7 vols. (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1968)
6:461, n. 88, and 462f., n. 93.

[29]See Midrash Psalms 7.13-15,
and B. T. Moed Qatan 16b

[30]B. T. Megillah
12b; see Menachem Kasher, Torah Sheleimah, Megillat Ester (Jerusalem 1994), p. 60, n. 45.

[31]Accordingly, Targum Rishon adds “Agag son of Amalek” and Targum Sheinei traces the
genealogy all the way back to Esau echoing Genesis 36:12.

[32]Josephus, Antiquities 11.212

[33]Pesikta Rabbati 13.7, ed.
Friedmann, p. 55b; ed. Ulmer, 13.15, p. 205. For the demonization of Amalek,
see the Yotzer for Parshat Zakhor, Birkat Avot, found in The Complete ARTScroll Siddur for Weekday/ Sabbath/ Festival, Nusach
Ashkenaz (Brooklyn: Mesorah Publications, 1990), pp. 880-883.

[34]See B. T. Sanhedrin 99b, Midrash Ha–Gadol, Genesis, ed. Margulies, p. 609

[35]Pace Targum Rishon 9:6, 12; Rabbenu Baḥעyעa to
Exodus 17:19 and Ralbag to 1 Samuel 15:6

[36]The combination of
“enemies and haters” recurs in the blessing after the Shema of the evening
service referring to Israel’s opponents in general not just the Egyptians.

[37]This is similar to the
classical Soloveitchikean position which identifies Amalek with those groups
whose policy with regard to the Jewish people is “Let us wipe them out as a
nation” (Psalm 83:5). See the discussion of Norman Lamm, “Amalek and the Seven
Nations: A Case of Law vs. Morality,” in War
and Peace in the Jewish
Tradition, ed. Lawrence Schiffman and
Joel Wolowelsky (New York: Yeshiva University Press, 2007), p. 215.

[38]“Laws of Kings and Their
Wars,” 6.1, 4. This became the normative position; see Aviezer Ravitsky,
“Prohibited Wars in Jewish Tradition,” ed. Terry Nardin, The Ethics of War
and Peace (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998), pp. 115-127.

[39]Deuteronomy Rabbah 5.13 and Midrash
Tanhעuma, Sעav 5.

[40]“Who came and told the
Cannanites the Israelite were coming to their land?

R. Ishmael b. R. Nahman said, ‘Joshua
sent them three orders: “He who wants to leave may leave; to make peace may
make peace, to make war against us may make war.” ’ The Girgashites left …
The Gibeonites made peace… Thirty-one kings made war and fell” (Leviticus
Rabbah 17.6, ed. Margulies, p. 386 and parallels).

[41]The position that all
wars must be preceded by an overture of peace gained widespread acceptance; see
Maimonides, “Laws of Kings and Their Wars” 6:1, 5; Nahmanides and Rabbenu
Baḥaya to Deuteronomy 20:10; SeMaG
positive mitzvah #118; Sefer Ha-Hעinukh mitzvah #527 along with Minḥat
Hעinukh, ad loc.; and possibly
Sa’adyah Gaon, see Yeruḥעam Perla, Sefer
Ha-Mitsvot Le-Rabbenu Sa’adyah (3 vols., Jerusalem, 1973) 3:251-252. Cf. Tosafot, B. T. Gittin 46a, s.v. keivan.

[42]See Maimonides, “Laws of
Kings and Their Wars” 6.4, with Joseph Caro, Kesef Mishnah, ad loc.; and Avraham Bornstein, Avnei Nezer, to Oraḥע Ḥעayyim
508.

[43]Josephus, Contra Apion II. 212-13.

[44]Mekhilta, Amalek 1, ed.
Horovitz-Rabin, p. 181; ed. Lauterbach, 2:147; and Naftali Zvi Yehudah Berlin, Ha‘ameq Davar to Deuteronomy 17:3.

[45]See Rashi and Radak to 2
Samuel 8:13. In general, no one is to be left unburied. Deut. 21:23 allows for
no exceptions; see B. T. Sanhedrin 46b with Saul Lieberman, “Some
Aspects of After life in Early Rabbinic Literature, in Harry Austryn Wolfson Jubileee Volume (Jerusalem: American Academy
of Jewish Research, 1965), pp. 495-532, 516.

[46]Philo, Moses 1.314.

[47]See Genesis 36:12, 16; I
Chronicles 1:36.

[48]B. T. Avodah
Zarah 10b. A later midrash even
applies “Your priests O Lord,” (Psalm 132:9, or 2 Chronicles 6:41) to Antoninus
the son of Severus; see Bet Ha–Midrasch,
ed. Jellinek (Jerusalem: Wahrmann, 1967) 3:28; and Yalqut Shimoni 2:429. He
is also included among the ten rulers who became proselytes; see Louis
Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews, 7
vols. (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1968), 6:412, n. 66.

[49]B. T. Sanhedrin 96b, B. T. Gittin 57b. For a range of modern traditional opinion on the
issue, see Yoel Weiss, “Be-Inyan Mi-Benei Banav Shel Haman Lamdu Torah Be-Benei
Beraq, Ve-Ha’im Meqablim Gerim Me-Zera Amaleq,” Kovets Ginat Veradim 1.1 (5768 [20008]), pp. 193-196.

[50]“Laws of Prohibited
Relations,” 12:17.

[51]“Laws of Kings and Their
Wars” 5.5. Not dealing with messianic reality, the subsequent codes, Arba‘ah Turim and the Shulkhan Arukh, make no mention of Amalek’s elimination only the possible
(!) requirement of reading it from the Torah; see Joseph Karo, Shulkhan Arukh, Orakh Hayyim 685:7.

[52]296; see Finkelstein
edition, p. 314, l. 8, with n. 8.

[53]Guide for the Perplexed
3:41 (ed. Pines, p. 566).

[54]See Zohar 3:281b. The approach gained currency in medieval philosophy, in
medieval and Renaissance biblical exegesis, in Kabbalah, in Hasidic literature,
and in other modern traditional commentaries; see Eliot Horowitz, Reckless Rites: Purim and the Legacy of
Jewish Violence (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2006), pp. 134-35;
Alan Cooper, “Amalek in Sixteenth Century Jewish Commentary: On the
Internalization of the Enemy,” in The
Bible in the Light of Its Interpreters: Sarah Kamin Memorial Volume, ed.
Sara Japhet (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1994), pp. 491-93; Avi Sagi, “The
Punishment of Amalek in Jewish Tradition: Coping with the Moral Problem,” The Harvard
Theological Review, 87 (1994), pp. 323-346, esp. 331-36; and Yaakov Meidan, Al Derekh
Ha–Avot (Alon Shvut: Tevunot, 2001), pp. 332-35.

[55]See Elimelech (Elliot)
Horowitz, “From the Generation of Moses to the Generation of the Messiah: Jews
against Amalek and his Descendants,” [Hebrew] Zion 64 (1999), pp.
425-454; and Sagi, “The Punishment of Amalek in Jewish Tradition: Coping with
the Moral Problem,” op. cit. pp. 331-336, who cites Yosef Babad, Minḥat Ḥinukh, 2. 213 (commandment
604); and Avraham Karelitz, Ḥazon Ish Al
Ha-Rambam (Bnei Brak, 1959), p. 842.

[56]See M. Yadayim 4:4, T. Yadayim 2:17 (ed. Zuckermandel, p.
683), T. Qiddushin 5:4 B. T. Berakhot
28a, B. T. Yoma 54a, with Osעar Ha–Posqim, Even Ha–Ezer 4.

[57]See Minhעat Hעinukh to Sefer Ha–Hעinukh,
end of mitzvah #604; and Avraham
Karelitz, Ḥעעazon Ish Al
Ha–Rambam (Bnei Brak, 1959), p. 842.

The Nazir in New York

ב”ה

The Nazir in New York

Josh Rosenfeld

I. Mishnat ha-Nazir

הוצאת נזר דוד שע”י מכון
אריאל

ירושלים, 2005

קכ’+36 עמודים

הראל כהן וידידיה כהן,
עורכים

A few years ago, during his daily shiur, R. Herschel Schachter related
that he and his wife had met someone called ‘the Nazir’ during a trip to Israel. R. Schachter quoted the Nazir’s
regarding the difficulty Moshe had with the division of the land in the matter
the daughters of Zelophehad and the Talmudic assertion (Baba Batra 158b) that
“the air of the Land of Israel enlightens”. Although the gist of the connection
I have by now unfortunately forgotten, what I do remember is R. Schachter
citing the hiddush of a modern-day
Nazir, and how much of a curio it was at the time.

‘The Nazir’, or R. David Cohen (1887-1972)
probably would have been quite satisfied with that. Towards the end of Mishnat ha-Nazir (Jerusalem, 2005) – to
my knowledge, the most extensive excerpting of the Nazir’s diaries since the
the three-volume gedenkschrift Nezir Ehav
(Jerusalem, 1978), and the selections printed in Prof. Dov Schwartz’ “Religious
Zionism: Between Messianism and Rationalism” (Tel Aviv, 1999) – we see the
Nazir himself fully conscious of the hiddush
of his personal status (עמ’ ע):

נזיר הנני, שם זה הנני
נושא בהדר קודש. אלמלא לא באתי אלא בשביל זה, לפרסם שם זה, להיות בלבות זרע קודש
ישראל, צעירי הצאן, זכרונות קודשי עברם הגדול, בגילוי שכינה, טהרה וקדושה, להכות
בלבם הרך גלי געגועים לעבר זה שיקום ויהיה לעתיד, חידוש ימינו כקדם, גם בשביל זה
כדאי לשאת ולסבול

and
similarly (p. 22, זכרונות מבית אבא מארי):

נזיר הנני, מדרגה לנבואה. אילו זכיתי לבוא לעולם רק לשם כך, לפרסם
מחדש שם זה, נזיר, כעובדת חיים בימינו, כדי להזכיר שאנחנו עומדים ערב תחיית הנבואה
בישראל, דייני

_________

The basic outline of the Nazir’s life[1]
finds a Yeshiva student from an esteemed Rabbinic family near Lithuania
shuttling from place to place in interwar Europe, meeting with R. Abraham Isaac
ha-Kohen Kook during his stay in Switzerland, and studying Western Philosophy
in the University of Basel,[2]
only to be consumed by a desire to reconnect with his spiritual master in the
Land of Israel, which he was able to do some years later. Upon reaching Israel,
R. David Cohen increasingly adopted ascetic practices[3], crowned by a
Nazirite vow – a lifelong abstention from all grape products and from cutting
his hair. The Nazir, as he would thereupon be known, was also a vegetarian,[4]
did not wear leather shoes, and maintained a ta’anit dibbur, refraining from speech for forty days from the
beginning of the month of Elul to
after Yom Kippur.[5] His
best-known published work was the systematic presentation of his understanding
of the development of Jewish spiritual experience, or ha-higayyon ha-shim’i ha-Ivri, in Kol ha-Nevuah (Jerusalem, 1969). While beyond the scope of this
short review, in that work, the Nazir set out to present the gamut of
philosophy and Jewish mysticism, showing two contrasting and sometimes
complementary systems with the main thrust of the Jewish system being the
achievement of prophecy.

___________

This short book contains an
introduction by the Nazir’s only son, R. She’ar Yashuv, followed by an even
shorter introduction, entitled דבר המשנה, penned by the editors, Har’el and
Yedidyah Cohen. Following this are two separate introductory pieces, אבא מארי and בית אמי, again
authored by R. She’ar Yashuv, in which much foreshadowing of the diary excerpts
themselves is interspersed with his general memories and impressions of his
father and mother. Afterward, the diary selections begin with Hebrew
pagination. There is evidence in this section of a heavy amount of editing,
censoring, and ‘cleaning-up’ of the relatively small amount of material
published here.[6]
I say ‘relatively’ because we are told by the editors that the content is
culled from over five large notebooks of personal writing by the Nazir, which
were graced with the handwritten title: מגילת סתרים –
זכרונות נזיר אלוקים (p.
15).

As one begins the section that is
purportedly the diary excerpts proper, the narrative quality of the writing is
striking. The Nazir definitely experienced the same trials as many Jews during
the interwar period, and one cannot help but share in his elation at finally
reaching Israel. Throughout, in between expressions of deeply personal
religious yearning are some very unique, unexpected stories. To wit, there are
four pages of riveting narrative about a desert trip gone awry, reaching a
breathless account of the Nazir prepared to die, lying down wrapped in a tallit and tefillin aside Wadi al-Kelt (עמ’ פה).[7]

We also get glimpses of the Nazir practicing his
religious path, the telos of which he ostensibly saw as a realization of
prophecy.[8]
The Nazir advocates his hitbodedut in
the hills surrounding Jerusalem, stating his goal as emulating the spiritual
wanderings of the biblical prophets in the following outstanding passage (עמ’ נב-נג):

הנביאים ובני הנביאים
התבודדו בהרים ובגבעות, מסביב למראה פני שדות וטוהר שמים, ורוח צח חרישת נושבת,
מחיה הנפש ומשיב הרוח במראה קודש …ספרים רבים לא היו הרי לא היו זקוקים לאוצרות
ספרים, כמו ספרי ש”ס והפוסקים ונושאי כליהם. כל זה המשא של ספרים וניירות,
המלעיטים את הנפש בנייר, והמסיחים את הדעת מן המרומם והנעלה טהר שמי ד’, לא בזה
יתגלה ותחיה רוח הנבואה, אלא בתורה שבעל פה, בלימודים בהרים וגבעות, על פני שדות
קודש, למראה טוהר שמי ד’, במקומות הקודש, בהתבודדות…כ

What is especially fascinating here is the
Nazir’s dismal view of the culture of the book and written word that in his
mind had defined Judaism in exile from the Land, and the placement * of the
spiritual connection to the land, or artsiut
as a binary to it. To the Nazir, the text-less hitbodedut in nature reflects the return to the prophetic culture
of Israel, a level closer to God than the ‘obfuscating’ medium of books and
papers. There is a certain anomian bent to the Nazir’s statements above,
expressing a desire to circumvent the traditional path of maintaining closeness
to God through the study of shas and
the commentaries.[9]
Additionally, with regards to the anomian practice of the Nazir, even in the
spare amount of material collected here, we see numerous indications that the
Nazir was not embarrassed in overlooking tefillah
b’tzibbur.[10]

Already in his days as a young student, the
Nazir expresses the tension that he feels between adhering to the standard
Yeshiva curriculum, and that which his inner self desires to study. From an
early age, the Nazir is drawn to texts that lay outside the purview of the
Yeshiva, some even forbidden outright. The Nazir describes how one attempt to
resolve this tension went slightly awry (עמ’ יג), although he remained steadfast in his
commitment to traditional modes of study:

הייתי חוזר על תלמודי
ומשנן הרבה, לפי סימני ושיטת ספר המזכיר, להרה מיעלאק, שמצאתי בבית דודי הרב ר’
ישעיה, שהיה חברו וידידו, מה”ברודסקאים” בוואלאזין. אך דודי הרב ר’ אברהם החביא את
ספר המזכיר, ויאמר, כי שינון זה מפריע להבנת ודעת התלמוד.כ

מעט מספרי “השכלה” התחלתי
לקרוא בבוריסובקא, המושבה… למדני לקרוא ולתרגם אחד מצעירי המושבה שהתמשכל… משך את
לבי, וישאני על כנפי רוח לשדות הקציר במושבות בארץ ישראל… נודע לי ממציאות זרם השכלה,
גם בין אבריכי הישיבה, אבל לא פגע בי ובתלמודי. כ

The struggle in reconciling a skill for, and
proclivity towards serious western thought and on the other hand, a depth of talmud Torah and ruhniyyut is a narrative thread that runs throughout the Nazir’s
life.[11]
One particularly powerful entry records the Nazir’s sincere resolution to stop
apologizing and being nervous for this tension, but rather to transcend it
entirely (עמ’ מז):

ופה נכרתה ברית ביני ובין
הא-ם, א’ ישראל. אין מילה בפי להביע, מה נהיה בעומק רוחי. כל השאלות העיוניות [12]והפילוסופיות,
חלפו, עברו, וקרוב קרוב לי אלהי ישראל…כ

_______________

Although we could continue with
citations of the fascinating and singular material found in Mishnat ha-Nazir, with space limits in
mind, I want to briefly make two final points. Firstly, the paucity of
translated material from the Nazir’s writings (something I too have failed to
do here), and the lack of much meaningful study of his work and life in English
give one pause. Aside from Schwartz’ article in Tradition, short references
here and there in his translated work mentioned above, and some of Garb’s work,
there is real room for English-language studies and translations of the Nazir’s
writings. I have tried here to include in this review a short precis of the
most accessible of the Nazir’s published writings in Mishnat ha-Nazir, and some of the extant literature on the Nazir as
well.[13]

Finally, a closer reading and analysis of the
Nazir’s life and writings might yield an organic, spiritually-minded, and
transcendent approach to many of the issues of science and faith, authority and
autonomy that lie at the root of many debates within American Orthodoxy. For
those wishing to find a different way, rather than the tired apologetic and
name-calling that characterizes some of the current popular discourse, the
Nazir’s writings and their popularization may serve as a model and guide for
alternative modes of thinking about Jewish religious expression and mindset.

[1] The most detailed
biographical study on the Nazir that I have come across is contained in the
first section of Yehuda Bitti’s 2007 doctoral dissertation (unpublished) at Ben
Gurion University of the Negev, bein
Pilosophia le-Kabbalah be-Haguto Shel ha-Rav David Cohen (5647-5732). Other
biographical sketches are available on the Yeshivat
Mercaz ha-Rav website, and this video of his son’s recollections of his father.

[2] There exist some wildly
inaccurate rumors and legends concerning the Nazir’s days in the University.
For example, James David Weiss in Vintage
Wein: The Collected Wit and Wisdom,
the Choicest Anecdotes & Vignettes of R. Berel Wein (Shaar Press,
1992), pp. 232-234 contains outright and gross misinformation regarding the
Nazir, going so far as to recount that the Nazir had completely left religion
during his appointment to the Mathematics faculty(!) in Freiburg, only to be
brought back to the fold after meeting R. Kook. The truth is that the Nazir was
giving regular Talmud lectures at the time as well, coupled with intense study
(עמ’ כז)
in the Philosophy department.

[3] For example, on עמ’ סז, the
Nazir writes that he has now gone five days without eating, only drinking tea.
He begins the entry by describing how he desires to accept these bodily
afflictions, but in the ambivalence that characterizes many of his personal
writing, he continues to say that his body simply cannot take it:

[3]

[3]אף על פי
כן קשה, קשה לי הרעב מאד. הרעב מוצץ את לשד מוחי, כסרטן. מפני מכאובי הגוף, שאלות
הנשמה והרוח נדחקות, במה עוברים ימי, מפני הקטנות

[4] As was the Nazir’s
wife, Sarah (daughter of R. Hanokh Etkin – and the Nazir’s first cousin); see
p. 30. Although the Nazir had intended for his son, R. Sha’ar Yashuv ha-Kohen
(recently Chief Rabbi of Haifa, and now president of Mechon Ariel for Higher
Religious Studies; a unique and fascinating figure in his own right) to be a
Nazir from birth (עמ’ צד), according to this article he was absolved from the vow by a
beit din convened in the family home
at age twelve. He did however, remain a vegetarian, and relates his father’s disappointment
at the decision to get a haircut.

[5] See p. 31, as related
by his son:

[5]

[5]אני מרבה
לשתוק ( ארבעים יום של אלול וראשית תשרי, ימי צום ותענית ואפילו כל שבתות השנה –
לא דיבר ולא סח אפילו בדברי תורה, רק קורא היה מתוך הספר ומראה באצבע, ולעתים,
בימי חול – רושם דבריו בקצרה על גבי פתק ומגישם לשומע) אמא, מדברת. אך תמיד: דיבור
של מצוה או דיבור כשר בהחלט

[6] Although obviously a
heavy amount of editorial discretion must go into choosing which entries make
it into less than 100 pages from over five full handwritten journals, the
constant non-sequiturs, the omission of months and even years of entries at
some points, the almost complete lack of entries related to the Nazir’s
profoundly loving and respectful relationship with his wife (details of which
are judiciously related in R. She’ar Yashuv’s introductions only), and other
clues lead the reader to surmise that even more interesting and unique writing
of the Nazir is withheld or suppressed.

[7] One of the Nazir’s
companions on the almost disastrous trip is R. Moshe Gurvitz, compiler and
editor of Orot ha-Emunah (Jerusalem,
2002) along with R. Kook’s future son in law, R. Shalom Natan Ra’anan.

[8] As for the Nazir’s
possible self-identification as a prophet-initiate, one needn’t look further
than his own children’s names, and his inquiry as to the permissibility of
giving them to R. Kook. See עמ’ עז. There are even indications in the diary of the Nazir
undergoing quasi-prophetic experiences – see for example, עמ’ צה and עמ’ עט, עמ’ עג.

[8]Also see the remarks
made by R. Aharon Lichtenstein in Shivhei
Kol ha-Nevu’ah, printed in the back of Kol
ha-Nevu’ah (Jerusalem, 2002) who describes the entire project of the Nazir
as התעוררות לנבואה, albeit with some reservation. For two studies of the Nazir and
prophecy in general, which basically sums up his entire oeuvre, see Avinoam
Rosenak, The Prophetic Halakha: Rabbi
A.I.H. Kook’s Philosophy of the Halakha (Hebrew; Jerusalem, 2007) pp.
253-266; R. She’ar Yashuv Cohen, ha-Nevu’ah
be-Mishnat ha-Nazir in Itturei Kohanim:
be-Inyanei Mikdash ve-Nevu’ah
(this is apparently an old issue of Yeshivat Ateret Kohanim’s journal). For
a more general overview of the relationship of the Nazir’s higgayon and prophecy, and one of the very few studies made of the
Nazir in English at all, see Dov Schwartz, The
Hebraic Auditory Logic and the Revival of Prophecy, Tradition 26:3 (2002),
pp. 81-89.

[9] For some discussion of
the trend of anomian as opposed to antinomian
practice and thought, especially through the prism of the writings of R.
Avraham Yitzhak ha-Kohen Kook, see Jonathan Garb, The Chosen Will Become Herds: Studies
in Twentieth Century Kabbalah (Hebrew; Jerusalem, 2005) pp. 77-78. Although
Garb highlights selections from Orot
ha-Kodesh in which R. Kook’s anomian advocacy of the practice of yihuddim is on display, one wonders the
role of the Nazir, who exercised a strong editorial hand over the publication
and arrangement of Orot ha-Kodesh,
and even saw himself as a co-author due to his work on it, in bringing this
particular stream of R. Kook’s thought to the fore in Orot ha-Kodesh and the selections cited by Garb. Perhaps this is
what is being hinted to in the oblique references to criticism and push-back
from other students of R. Kook that the Nazir hints to in the diaries. See Mishnat ha-Nazir, עמ’
צא in the entry titled “הבקורת”.

[10] See עמ’ פה, where the
Nazir makes preparations for a possible Shabbat
alone.

[11] One very interesting
entry records the Nazir’s strong impressions upon meeting חוקר נסתרות אחד, and
being shown manuscript writings of R. Abraham Abulafia. This חוקר is none other
than Prof. Gershom Scholem. Despite Scholem’s regard and perception of R.
Kook’s ‘Zionist’ Kabbalah, it is apparent that he did not hold the Nazir in the
same esteem, but nor did he reserve the disdain he held for ‘Oriental
Kabbalists’ of the day. See Boaz Huss, Ask
No Questions: Gershom Scholem and the Study of Contemporary Jewish Mysticism in
Modern Judaism 25 (2005),
pp. 141-158.

[12] On the Nazir’s approach
toward what we would call Torah u-Madda,
see Jonathan Garb, ‘”Alien” Culture in the Circle of Rabbi
Kook‘’, in H. Kriesel (ed.), Study and Knowledge in Jewish Thought. pp.
253-264. Be’er Sheva, 2006; For a more muted, but still positive perception of
the Nazir’s engagement with secular thought, see R. Ya’akov Ariel, Science and Faith: R. David Cohen – ‘The
Nazirite Rabbi’ – and his Method of Study, in Tzohar (no. 8, 2002). Finally, see R. Ari Yitzhak Shevat, We Have Nothing to Fear From Criticism: On
the Scientific Study of the Nazir & R. Kook’s Attitude Thereof in Tzohar
(no. 31, 2008) although the approach taken by Shevat seems to fail to account
for the transcendent, integrationist attitude of the Nazir and tries to recast
him as a sort of apologist, which, in my opinion is precisely not what emerges
from the Nazir’s own accounts of his secular learning and knowledge.

[13] An excellent resource
for everything Nazir-related can be found at this Google
Site, arranged to collect, categorize, and publicize the Nazir’s
body of work.

The Kabbalat Shabbat Memorandum by Rabbi Prof. Daniel Sperber

The Kabbalat Shabbat Memorandum Sivan 5773

by Rabbi Prof. Daniel Sperber

The recent rather
acrid debate on women leading the Kabbalat Shabbat service appeared, at first,
to be primarily a halachic one. But it soon overflowed into additional areas,
revealing it as a clearly political polemic. Indeed, I found the whole
discussion which appeared on a whole series of blogs, and a major published
article, most astonishing. We are not talking about women reading the Torah
and/or having aliyot. The criticisms raised against this practice I can well
appreciate, though I disagree with them and have sought to refute them.

But here we are
talking about a practice first established in the latter years of the 16th
cent., among a small group of people, disciples of the Ari ha-Kadosh in Safed,
which took place outside the confines of the synagogue looking over the hills
and watching the sunset, and reciting some psalms and piyyutim. It gradually
spread to other venues, first being practiced outside the synagogue in the
courtyard, and, later, when in the synagogue, recited at the bimah, rather
than the chazan’s lectern, clearly to emphasize its different status from the Maariv
service. In many communities there is no sheliah tzibbur leading the
service; rather the congregants sing the Psalms together. Indeed, in small
communities often the service begins even before there is a minyan of
ten men, and the congregation wait for the requisite number in order to say Barchu.

As to the argument that, as it is followed by Kaddish, it must
have the status of a tefillat tzibbur or teffilat rabbim, a
communal service which cannot be led by women, it should be noted that the Kaddish
Yatom only comes after Mizmor Shir le-Yom ha-Shabbat, which is
already found in some Rishonim as part of the Maariv Shel Shabbat;
and therefore does not in any sense relate to the Kabbalists of Safed’s Kabbalat
Shabbat. Furthermore, Kaddish Yatom itself may be recited by women,
as was ruled by R. Ahron Soloveitchik and others. But, in point of fact, this Kaddish
is not found in early sources, such as the Tur (Orah Hayyim 337).
Indeed, the whole argument aimed to
give Kabbalat Shabbat this new status is far-fetched.

But the debate
about Kabbalat Shabbat was intended to have far broader implications,
for, by the same argument it would also disallow women to lead Pesukei
de-Zimra, for example. Indeed, this tendentious aim is overtly revealed by
yet another argument put forward, namely that a Shaliah tzibbur must
have a full beard; something that obviously excludes women, (Shulhan
Aruch 53:6). The reason given is the dignity of the congregation, kevod
ha-tzibbur, which is clearly irrelevant in present day society. Both the Maharam Mi-Rotenberg and the Rashba
agree that the congregation can waive this requirement. The original ruling applied only to
permanent shlichei tzibbur, not to occasional readers, and, on occasion,
even a thirteen-year old, who has reached maturity may lead the service.
Additionally, the Biur Halachah writes that this requirement may be
waived when there is no one else to fulfill this function. And finally, this
restriction referred to very specific prayers, such as Keriat Shema, on
fast-days in Eretz Yisrael because of drought, and The High Holidays. In any
case, nowadays hardly any synagogue requires its reader to be bearded; even
American Rabbis are often clean-shaven, because the plain meaning of that
ruling is that a service should be led by one who is mature, i.e.
post-bar-mitzvah. And a thirty-year old without a beard is fully eligible to
serve as a shaliah tzibbur. Indeed some of greatest hazzanim were
beardless, such as the Koussevitzky brothers, Mosheh, David, Jacob and Simhah,
Leibele Waldman, Leibele Glanz, Zavel Kwartin, Shmuel Malavsky, to list only a
few of the best-known names.

Two additional
arguments were put forward. Firstly, that for Kabbalat Shabbat, the Shaliah
Tzibbur wears a tallit. This, of course, is in the case where there
is a Shaliah Tzibbur. Now according to the Magen Avraham (Orah
Hayyim 18:1) citing the Bayit Hadash (Bah) one really should
remove the tallit one is wearing when one says Barechu since it is night
and one does not wear tzitzit at night. And so many Aharonim
specifically rebuked those who wore a tallit at night. However, those
who did so, did so because of kabbalistic reasons related to Kevod Shabbat,
and not kevod ha-tzibbur. Indeed, there were even those who wore a
tallit for kiddush at home, and kiddush at home is hardly a tefillat
tzibbur or rabbim, (see J. Levy, Minhag Yisrael Torah 1,
Brooklyn 1994, pp.87-88).

The second point
raised was, curiously enough, from R. David Sperber, my grandfather’s Teshuvot:
Afrakasta de-Anya, (3rd ed, Israel 2002, vol.4, p.215). There he
says that if one cannot find a minyan, at least try to pray with two
other people, since this would constitute a tefillat rabbim, which is
more readily accepted by God. He derives this from a passage in Hayyei Adam
(Klal 68:11) who says that every mitzvah which can be done be-haburah
in a group, should be so done, and not as an individual, because “the
greater the number of people, the greater is the honour to the king.” If
three people give tzedakah, does that make it a rabbim? If three
people declaim Psalms together does that make it a tefillat rabbim?
Surely the term my grandfather zt”l used was not intended to give a
special status to the group of three, but merely to say that such a mitzvah
or prayer is more acceptable before the Holy One Blessed be He, than that of a
single individual. (His other reference to vol.2 p.211 is quite irrelevant to
this issue.)

(On a personal
note, I might add, that in order fully to understand my sainted grandfather’s
ruling, one has to appreciate his particular brand of hassidic piety, which was
a blend of halachah, kabbalah and a special brand of hassidut. See my father’s
introduction in his Michtam le-David on the Torah.

His belief in the
efficacy of prayers was all so evident to anyone who saw him in prayer. I served him in his latter years and
received my semichah from him.)

Now my learned
colleagues knew all these facts, which are plainly evident to anyone who is
conversant with the relevant sources. Nonetheless, they chose to disregard
them, or to reinterpret them in a forced fashion.

So looking more
closely at the discussion, it becomes evident that rather than this being a
genuinely halachic debate, it is more a socio-political polemic, built on shaky
grounds and dressed in the somewhat misleading garb of halachic disquisition.

(And see now the
very significant comments of Prof. Marc B. Shapiro, (link), and Rabbi Zev Farber’s responses to Rabbi R. Freundel’s articles.)

Another note on
Women’s aliyot.

One of the
central points of controversy between those who permit women’s aliyot and those
who do not, is the understanding of the critical text in B. Megillah 23a which
states that “all are counted among the seven aliyot, even women and
children. But the Rabbis said: ‘A woman should not read the Torah because of
the dignity of the community’ “. It is this final section that is the main
source of the controversy. Some have claimed that “But the Rabbis said: A
woman should not read…” is an absolute decree that cannot be changed.
Others – myself included – have argued that this is advice, rather than a
decree, limited by the principle of “the dignity of the community”.
That is to say, if there is no such slight on the community, the advice becomes
irrelevant. I argued that most of the places where the phrase “But the
Rabbis said” may be understood as “advice” and not
“decree”. Recently Ephraim Bezalel Halivni sought to show that in
many instances “But the Rabbis said” should clearly be understood as
a “decree” formulation. However, he himself (Studies in Liturgy
and Reading The Torah, Jerusalem 2012, p.160) agrees that there are examples
where this phrase can be understood as “advice”. Hence, even
according to his position, he will have to agree that it is possible
that in our Megillah text “But the Rabbis said” may be advice. In
other words there is an element of uncertainty (safek) as to the precise
interpretation of that text.

And even if we
were to interpret it, as have some, as a decree, it is a decree with a reason.
Now there exists a well-known controversy between Rambam and Raavad as to
whether when the reason for a decree is no longer relevant the decree is still
in force; Rambam says yes, and Raavad disagrees. It is true that in such
controversies we follow the Rambam; however, it is equally true that it is not certain
that he is correct. Perhaps the
Raavad’s position is more correct. In other words, there still exists an
element of uncertainty (a safek) as to who is right. It is just that in
accordance with certain pragmatic rules of halachic adjudications (pesak),
we follow the ruling of Rambam.

Moreover, R.
Yosef Messas added a further consideration, arguing that even according to the
view of Rambam, this principle only applies where there is a fear that the
original reason could be relevant in the future. But in a case where there is
little or no reason to think that the reason will resurface, the original
prohibitions may be disregarded, (Otzar Michtavim 1, 454; cf. Marc B.
Shapiro, Conversations 7, 2010, p.101). Here too, we may be fairly
certain that in our modern society the dignity of the community will not be
impugned by a woman’s aliyah even in the future, in addition to which, we have
already pointed out that a community can, according to both the Maharam
Mi-Rotenburg and the Rashba, forgo their dignity should they so wish.

Now, I cannot say
that R. Messas’ interpretation is necessarily correct. There exists a safek, in fact, a
triple sfek sfeka: (i) what is the correct interpretation of B.
Megillah’s phrase, (ii) whether to rule like Rambam or the Raavad, and (iii) even
if one follows Rambam, should we accept R. Messas’ interpretation that it
applies even when there is little or no reason to think that the reason will
resurface.

Without going
into all the details of the very complex kuntres sfek-sfeka, surely here
we should rule: sfek sfeka le-kula, most leniently, admitting the
permissibility of women’s aliyot, especially when added to all our other
arguments.

Final Note

And finally, a
somewhat pedagogical comment. The Beit Yosef, of R. Yosef Caro in Yoreh Deah
242 writes:

It is forbidden for a hacham to give a ruling permitting
something which looks strange, for the masses will see this as permitting the
forbidden.

He bases himself
on Hagahot Maimoniyot to Rambam Hilchot Talmud Torah chapter 5 sect.6. Now almost all innovations look strange, and
can easily be understood as permitting the forbidden . And indeed this is the
ruling in Shulhan Aruch Yoreh Deah 242:10. (And see Beur ha-Gra ibid. sect. 21
for Talmudic sources.) But the Shach (Siftei-Chen) ad loc. sect.17 modifies
this statement as follows:

It would appear that this [refers to a case] where he permitted
[something] without any explanation [for his ruling] – setam – and
indeed so it appears from the proofs he brings from Hagahot Maimoniyot and B.
Sanhedrin 5ab… and B. Nidah 20a…, and the beginning of B. Berachot (3 b)… But if he tells the questioner the reason
for his ruling, and explains to him his arguments (ומראה
לו פנים), or if he brings
evidence from the book, it is permitted.

And the Beer
Heiteiv brings this in abbreviated form. (See also note 8, ad loc. in Otzar
Mefarshim in the Machon Yerushalayim [Friedman] ed. of the Shulhan Aruch.)

This indicates to
us very clearly that all the changes that we are advocating must not only be
firmly based in our canonic sources, but also clearly presented to the general
public.

Partnership Minyanim and More

Partnership Minyanim and More

Marc B. Shapiro

1. A few people have wanted me to comment on the recent debate between Rabbis Barry Freundel and Zev Farber about the so-called Partnership Minyanim in which women lead Kabbalat Shabbat. See here. The issue goes back to R. Freundel’s article in Tradition 44:2 (2011) on the topic. I was planning to respond to this article when it first appeared, and even wrote some pages, but I never completed the piece. Since the issue has once again surfaced, now is a good time to deal with it. Some of what I will say was also stated by an anonymous commenter on the Torah Musings blog, but both R. Zev Farber and Lazer Kaganovitch can testify that I sent them these points before the commenter posted anything, so I see no reason not to record my thoughts. (I should also note that this anonymous commenter, while pointing out errors and misreadings by R. Freundel, did not show proper respect in recording his criticisms.)

In his article, R. Freundel argues against the Partnership Minyanim with an original approach. Rather than summarize his viewpoint in my own words, this quotation sets forth his thesis, which the article attempts to prove:

In those communities which do not employ a Hazan for Kabbalat Shabbat, that lack would indicate that they view this liturgy as neither mandatory nor communal. Nonetheless, putting a woman (and maybe a child) into the role of Hazan would still be problematic. Adding a Hazan makes the prayer mandatory and communal but women and possibly children cannot lead a mandatory communal prayer. As a result, even in a setting that currently has no Hazan, the innovation of using a Hazan who cannot serve as a Hazan for communal prayer creates a halakhic dissonance that is unsustainable.

This is quite an argument and if it could be sustained, then it would be a significant contribution to the debate. However, in my opinion, and the opinion of everyone I know who has examined the issue, R. Freundel’s argument is completely unconvincing. There is simply no way that having a person read a few paragraphs of Psalms or more recent compositions before some other people makes the prayer “mandatory” and “communal.”

Before getting into some particulars of R. Freundel’s piece, let me offer a more general criticism. Reading the article I was troubled by the author’s need to come up with a halakhic argument to forbid that which pretty much everyone can see is not a halakhic matter at all (apart from possible halakhic concerns of tzeniut). Those who are in favor of Partnership Minyanim devote great efforts to show that there is no halakhic objection, and therefore these minyanim should be instituted, and R. Freundel is playing the same game, but from the other side. He feels that he needs to show why Partnership Minyanim are halakhically forbidden, and therefore shouldn’t be instituted.

The truth of the matter is that many of the most important things traditional Jews do and don’t do have nothing to do with halakhah. Something can be a bad idea, even a very bad idea, and deserve to be rejected even if there is no technical halakhic objection to it. As the Steipler wrote (Karyana de-Igarta [2011 ed.], vol. 2 no. 581):

יש כמה דברים שאין בכח החכם להורות איסור אע”פ שבאמת אינו נכון כלל

There are good reasons people can offer in opposition to Partnership Minyanim without falling into the “pan-halakhic” trap that everything you oppose has to be shown to be halakhically improper. Opponents of the Partnership Minyanim should be able to acknowledge that if non-bar mitzvah age boys are permitted to serve as a hazan for pesukei de-zimra or Kabbalat Shabbat then, apart from issues of tzeniut (in which I include kol ishah), there is no “technical” halakhic objection with women doing so as well. But as mentioned already, lack of a prohibition doesn’t necessarily make something a good idea. Plenty of synagogues will not let someone serve as a hazan if he is wearing jeans (or if he is not wearing a jacket or hat), yet this doesn’t mean that we need to find a technical halakhic objection for something which is at essence a matter of synagogue custom and propriety, and therefore does not need to be supported by halakhic sources. By the same token, I think we have reached the point whereby the typical Orthodox rabbi acknowledges (privately, at least) that there is no real halakhic objection to a woman rabbi, while at the same time continuing to oppose the concept (much like many oppose yoatzot halakhah). They oppose it because of how women rabbis will change the structure of traditional Judaism, change it in way they view as negative. This point can be made without using halakhic arguments that after a little investigation people will see don’t carry any weight. This is especially so in the Modern Orthodox world where there are women principals of Jewish day school, women synagogue presidents, women teachers of Talmud, women learning advanced halakhah, and no one bats an eye when a woman speaks in front of men.

For those who oppose things like women leading Kabbalat Shabbat, a weak halakhic argument is worse than no argument at all. The best tactic for the opponents is simply to keep the issue focused on what direction is best for Judaism. It is known that a number of great rabbis refused to provide halakhic reasons for particular decisions they gave, especially when the halakhic justification was weak. They chose this path precisely because they didn’t want these issues to become matters of halakhic debate, as there were other, even more important considerations guiding them. (In a future post I will give examples.) What R. Freundel’s article does is empower the proponents of Partnership Minyanim because they can rightfully say, “If this is the best our opponents can muster in terms of halakhic objections, then there really is no reason to oppose what we are doing.”

Now let’s turn to some particulars, as there are a couple of points in R. Freundel’s article that I would like to comment on. He writes:

The second oft-cited opinion in Rishonim is that of Nahmanides, who argues for obligatory twice a day recitations of the Amidah by women at Shaharit and Minha. The problem is that, despite the fact that the Mishna Berurah quotes this approach in the name of Ramban, I cannot find this opinion anywhere in Nahmanides’ writings. An examination of the section of Shulhan Arukh where Mishna Berurah makes this statement indicates that he is quoting R. Akiva Eiger.

There is a misunderstanding here. Here is the passage from the Mishnah Berurah 106:4 referred to by R. Freundel.

What the Mishnah Berurah is saying is that Nahmanides’ view is that prayer is a rabbinic commandment. The part about Anshei Keneset ha-Gedolah requiring the Amidah to be recited twice a day and that women are also obligated in this is not from Nahmanides. This is the Mishnah Berurah speaking. Contrary to what R. Freundel writes, the Mishnah Berurah is not quoting R. Akiva Eger.

In the next paragraph, Freundel writes:

R. Eiger cites Nahmanides from section 89 of Responsa Besamim Rosh. At one time this book was attributed to a variety of important scholars including Ramban, but now it is known to have been written by Isaac Molina in the 16th century. . . . Section 89 of Besamim Rosh tells us that women “in our area” are required to pray twice a day because “they have accepted this practice upon themselves.” This is hardly an indication that all Jewish women are required to recite the formal liturgy at Shaharit and Minha as Mishna Berurah claims.

Here is the responsum from Besamim Rosh.

It never uses the words “in our area”, and furthermore, the responsum is not from Nahmanides. It seems that R. Freundel makes the false assumption that at one time this book was attributed to Ramban because he thinks that R. Akiva Eger is citing a responsum of Ramban in Besamim Rosh. Yet Besamim Rosh was never attributed to Nahmanides nor to Isaac Molina.[1] The latter supposedly gathered the teshuvot (that is what it says on the title page, but this is part of Saul Berlin’s forgery). This means that R. Freundel’s critique of the Mishnah Berurah falls by the wayside, since the responsum in Besamim Rosh has nothing to do with the Ramban and thus nothing to do with the Mishnah Berurah’s point, which is derived from the Ramban. .

Here is the text from R. Akiva Eger.

In his heading he cites Ramban, but that is simply a quote from the Magen Avraham, and has nothing to do with the Besamim Rosh that he cites immediately following this. All R. Akiva Eger is doing by citing Besamim Rosh is providing another relevant text dealing with the issue under consideration, i.e., women and prayer. In R. Akiva Eger’s responsa, vol. 1, no. 9, he cites this same responsum in Besamim Rosh. (R. Akiva Eger thought that Besamim Rosh was an authentic work.[2])

However, how did R. Freundel ever assume that Besamim Rosh was citing Nahmanides? He never could have concluded this if he used the Machon Yerushalayim edition, which is the text I just used. He also could not have concluded this if he used one of the older editions of the Shulhan Arukh in which R. Akiva Eger’s note doesn’t even refer to Ramban. See here:

Yet here is the text as it appears in what used to be the standard edition of the Shulhan Arukh. In this edition there is a mistake in R. Akiva Eger’s text and it indeed has him stating that Nahmanides’ view is found in Besamim Rosh.

R. Freundel writes:

While all agree that women do not count towards adding Elokeinu, there is some debate about whether women can count among the three for zimmun. Nonetheless, even for those who say that women do count for the three no one suggests that a woman can lead if there are both men and women present. This is either because women’s obligation is rabbinic while men’s is Biblical or because the formal text of Birkat ha-Mazon contains references to certain mitsvot (e.g., circumcision) which are not applicable to women (emphasis added).

The passage I have underlined is incorrect. Ritva writes as follows[3]:

נשים חייבות בברכת המזון מן התורה, ולפיכך אשה מברכת לאיש על ידי זימון, או אם הוא עם הארץ להוציאו ידי חובתו כדרך שהאיש מוציאו.

See also R. Asher Ben Hayyim, Sefer ha-Pardes, ed. Blau (New York, 1984), pp. 176-177, and also the Hazon Ish, Orah Hayyim 30:8, who mentions that according to one approach in the rishonim גם הנשים רשאות לזמן כה”ג אם אין אנשים בקיאין .

R. Yitzhak Yosef, Yalkut Yosef, Orah Hayyim 186:5, writes:

אשה שבירכה ברכת המזון ונתכוונה להוציא את האיש ידי חובתו, ושניהם אכלו כדי שביעה, בדיעבד יצא ידי חובה, ואינו צריך לחזור ולברך

A good discussion of the issue is found in R. Yehudah Herzl Henkin, Bnei Vanim, vol. 3, no. 1.[4]

R. Freundel writes:

The presence of a Hazan was essential to Magen Avot becoming a mandatory tefillah be-tsibbur. Magen Avot became mandatory with a Hazan. . . . If the presence of a Hazan makes a prayer mandatory, then Kabbalat Shabbat, which today has a Hazan in the vast majority of synagogues, is also mandatory.

I think R. Freundel has it all backwards. The presence of a hazan never made Magen Avot mandatory. Rather, when Magen Avot was made mandatory, it was required that there be a hazan. But what does this have to do with Kabbalat Shabbat which was never made mandatory by anyone?

R. Freundel writes:

R. Kook maintained that one who has heard the repetition of the Amidah on Rosh Hodesh thereby fulfilling his tefillah be-tsibbur requirement, but who must repeat his silent Amidah because he forgot Ya’ale ve-Yavo[,] counts among the six to whom four who previously prayed are added for recitation of devarim she-bi-kedushah. His repeat prayer constitutes tefillat rabbim in that venue, which is sufficient to count him in the majority of a tsibbur that has not yet prayed. Tefillat rabbim is, therefore, not a larger form of individual prayer, rather it is a diminished form of tefillah be-tsibbur and therefore, he counts because his is a minor act of communal prayer.

This description is incorrect as R. Kook does not “maintain” that which is being attributed to him. In his responsum, Orah Mishpat, no. 23, R. Kook presents both sides of the matter and concludes וצריך בירור. What this means is that he does not make a final decision. In any event, what does this have to do with someone such as a minor or a woman leading a prayer that is not obligatory?

The larger problem of R. Freundel’s article is that he makes assumptions which are simply not in accord with the practice of Jewish communities. For example, his argument leads to the conclusion that it should be forbidden (not just inappropriate, but forbidden) for someone under bar mitzvah age to lead any part of the service. Yet this is the practice in communities all over the world. Doesn’t every Modern Orthodox synagogue have a child lead Adon Olam? R. Freundel assumes that the only reason this can be permitted is because of hinnukh considerations. That is possible, but it is just as likely permitted precisely because there is no prohibition, and it is a nice thing to do. In other words, there is no default position that it is prohibited, from which one then needs to then find a way to permit.

The Beit Yosef, Orah Hayyim 53, discusses the practice of children leading the congregation in maariv and those who objected. He explains that the practice can be defended since there is no repetition of the Amidah, the hazan is not fulfilling anyone’s obligation for him, and maariv is also reshut. In other words, there are no considerations of hinnukh raised here, and for the Beit Yosef there is no default position that it is prohibited, and certainly no concept of tefillat rabbim, (which is mostly a hiddush of R. Freundel). It seems to be entirely a matter of synagogue etiquette, i.e., kevod ha-tzibbur, and if this can be overcome, then there is no halakhic problem. R. Yitzhak Zilberstein even argues that in an extreme circumstance (the particular case concerned a prison) one need not protest if a non-Jew leads the maariv service![5]

Let me stress that there is nothing wrong with R. Freundel coming up with a hiddush dealing with tefillat rabbim. However, a hiddush such as this cannot be the basis for forbidding a practice such as Partnership Minyanim. To see how far R. Freundel’s model takes him, in response to criticism he even stated that it is forbidden for a woman to recite tefillat ha-derekh on behalf of men and also to lead a communal recitation of Psalms. R. Freundel assumes that this is all tefillat rabbim and therefore forbidden for a woman to lead.

I have no doubt that if you ask the typical posek about a woman reciting tefillat ha-derekh or reading a Psalm before a mixed group of men and women, he will say it should not be done, for reasons of tzeniut or mesorah. But if you ask him if it is forbidden on account of tefillat rabbim, he won’t have a clue what you are talking about. Speaking historically, there is simply no such halakhic framework, and I find it hard to believe that people are going to be convinced that if some men and women sit down to read a few Psalms together (or a liturgical text of more recent vintage) that there is a prohibition for a woman to lead the recitation. (Again, I am not referring to tzeniut issues here.). Let me just remind readers that R. Ovadiah Yosef, relying on numerous rishonim, has ruled that if necessary a woman can read the Purim megillah for men (which might arise if no men know how to read it).[6] If the halakhically obligatory Megillah can be read by women for men, with none of the poskim saying a word about a concept of tefillat rabbim, then why should people accept that there is a prohibition for a woman to lead a group of men and women in recitation of a Psalm? (I realize that one can respond that reading the Megillah is not tefillah, but it would nevertheless be strange to permit a woman to read an entire book of the Bible before a group of men, and at the same time not allow her to read even a few verses from another book, i.e., Psalms.)

There is a good deal more to say about the phenomenon of Partnership Minyanim and the strange way they came about. Before Prof. Daniel Sperber got involved, the basis for them was an article written by an otherwise unknown rabbi in the Edah Journal. I can’t help but wonder about the halakhic methodology of changing traditional Jewish practice simply because a rabbi writes an article with some suggestions. If tomorrow a rabbi, any rabbi, writes an article arguing that in today’s day and age when men and women mix freely, that there is no need for a mehitzah in prayer (after all, it is not mentioned in the Shulhan Arukh), would that then give people carte blanche to remove the mehitzah? Had this not already been an issue between the Orthodox and Conservative, and thus of great symbolic significance, I am sure the mehitzah would already have been removed in liberal Orthodox synagogues. And what about counting women in the minyan? Halakhic arguments can be advanced for this as well. Is the only reason the liberal Orthodox don’t accept R. Ethan Tucker’s and R. Micha’el Rosenberg’s arguments[7] because of their non-affiliation with Orthodoxy? If an Orthodox rabbi had advanced the same argument as them, would it then be OK to move to complete halakhic egalitarianism?[8]

2. In a previous post I wrote about the dispute over whether there is pesak in hashkafah. Only recently did I see the following relevant statement of R. Soloveitchik, The Emergence of Ethical Man, p. 6 (emphasis added).

It is certain that the fathers of the Church and also the Jewish medieval scholars believed that the Bible preached this doctrine [the separateness of man from nature]. Medieval and even modern Jewish moralists have almost canonized this viewpoint and attributed to it apodictic validity. Yet the consensus of many, however great and distinguished, does not prove the truth or falseness of a particular belief.

In my article, I discussed some of the difficulties with the Hatam Sofer’s position that principles of faith can change with time, and are determined in a fashion no different than typical halakhic decisions. I argued that this understanding diverges from that of the rishonim. In R. Dovid Cohen’s recently published Ha-Emunah ha-Ne’emanah (Brooklyn, 2012), p. 41, he appears troubled by the Hatam Sofer’s approach.

וקשה מאד להתאים דברי הח”ס שעיקרי הדת חשובים עיקרים שהכל צריכים להאמינם מפני ההכרעה שאז י”ל שהפורק עול שאינו רוצה לקבל ההכרעה נענש מטעם זה, אבל איך זה שייך לסברת האברבנאל והגרי”ז שמי שאינו מאמין אין לו התפיסה שיוכל להשיג עולם הבא האם ההשגה תלויה בהכרעה או במציאות של האמת והאם שייך לומר שלרב הלל יש חלק בעוה”ב והבא אחריו שסובר כוותיה אין לו חלק לעולם הבא שאינו יכל להשיג. . . . ועיין לקמן בעיקר ז’ שהערתי שמשמע מהאריז”ל ומבעל התניא שהם חולקים על החתם סופר ודו”ק.

What does the last word (abbreviation) mean, as it does not stand for ודוחק קצת, which is how it is usually understood? Furthermore, what are we to do with the expression והדברים ברורים ודו”ק that appears in Maharsha and elsewhere? I remember how in yeshiva we didn’t know what to make of this, since it obviously doesn’t mean ודוחק קצת. One rebbe told us that the abbreviation mark is a mistake and it should be read as ודוק, that is, “examine it carefully” (like ודייק). It is also possible that the abbreviation stands for ודיק וקרא, although this meaning is not mentioned in Otzar Rashei Tevot. R. Meir Mazuz recounts that in Tunis they explained it: ואחר דרישה וחקירה קל. (Otzar Rashei Teivot has ודייק ותמצא קל). See his Lo Tashikh (Bnei Brak, 2005), p. 8 (first numbering). But he assumes that the real meaning is as I mentioned, i.e., ודייק.

Returning to R. Cohen’s book, it really requires a post of its own, as it contains all sorts of interesting things. Here is one example, from p. 127, where he suggests an interpretation of the Twelfth Principle of Maimonides according to which belief in a personal Messiah and other details in the Principle are not really required beliefs.

וצ”ל שהעיקר הי”ב הוא גאולה באחרית הימים והכופר בזה הוא כופר גמור והפרטים שכתב הרמב”ם שיהיה משיח והוא מיו”ח של שלמה בן דוד אין זה מהעקרים שהכופר בהם אינו נחשב ככופר והוא חידוש עצום.

I only quote this for its novelty, as it is contradicted by Maimonides’ explicit words in the Principle. With reference to the detail of the Messiah’s genealogy, Maimonides states: “Included in this fundamental principle is that there will be no king of Israel except from David and from the seed of Solomon exclusively. Anyone who disputes concerning this family denies God and the words of His prophets.”

On p. 162 R. Cohen states that according to Maimonides even non-Jews are obligated to believe in the Thirteen Principles. He concludes his paragraph with ודו”ק, and again, it does not mean ודוחק קצת.

ועיין סוף פ”ח ממלכים שכתב וז”ל כי [כל] המקבל שבע מצות ונזהר לעשותן הרי זה מחסידי אומות העולם ויש לו חלק לעולם הבא. והוא שיקבל אותן ויעשה אותן מפני שצוה בהן הקב”ה בתורה והודיענו על ידי משה רבינו שבני נח מקודם נצטוו בהן. אבל אם עשאן מפני הכרע הדעת אין זה גר תושב ואינו מחסידי אומות העולם ולא מחכמיהם עכ”ל. ומשמע מכאן שהרמב”ם בא לכלול הגוים שהם חסידי אומות העולם שמאמינים בתורה, אבל אינם מאמינים בי”ג עיקרים שאין להם חלק לעוה”ב . . . הרי מוכח כנ”ל שגוי צריך להאמין בי”ג עקרים ודו”ק

Contrary to R. Cohen, when Maimonides speaks of righteous non-Jews being required to believe in the revelation at Sinai, this has nothing to do with acceptance of the complete Thirteen Principles.

One more point about R. Cohen’s book is that it is obvious that at times he is responding to what I wrote in The Limits of Orthodox Theology (and he also makes use of many of the sources I cite). While I am not mentioned by name (no surprise there) I am apparently included among the משמאילים referred to on p. 5 (see Limits, pp. 7-8).

Finally, let me add more comment about the Thirteen Principles. Just when I was about send in this post, I received the latest issue (Spring 2013) of the journal Conversations, published by Rabbi Marc Angel’s Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals. Each issue is a great read as it includes material from both well-known scholars as well as talented newcomers who have a lot to contribute and whose writings have often been real eye-openers for me.

Among the established writers in the new issue is R. Nathan Lopes Cardozo. If there is any contemporary writer in the Orthodox world who reminds me of the early Hasidic masters, the Kotzker, or even R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg in his private moments,[9] it is R. Lopes Cardozo. Reading him one can sense how difficult it is for R. Lopes Cardozo to live in a world in which spiritual authenticity is in such short supply. As with his similar-minded predecessors, he too must protest, and the real perplexity is why so many others don’t join in this protest. The questions he asks, and what keeps him up at night, are exactly what should be on the mind of all thinking Orthodox Jews, even if one may disagree with the answers he gives.

His latest article, which appears in Conversations, is entitled “Lonely but Not Alone: An Autobiography by a Jew Who Should Never Have Been.” On p. 10 he writes:

It became clear to me that Judaism is based on the need for absolute questioning. I discovered that there are no absolute dogmas in Judaism, at least not in the way they are found within the Catholic Church. Maimonides’ famous Thirteen Principles of Faith, which are sung in nearly every synagogue on Friday nights, were never accepted as the final version of Jewish belief and were in fact heavily attacked and challenged by the greatest rabbinical authorities. Today, I see that Maimonides’ thirteen principles caused major damage to Judaism. It was the famous Professor Leon Roth who once remarked: “For this Hebrew of Hebrews had in many respects a Greek mind and through his sense of logic and his passion for precision, he brought Judaism into a doctrinal crisis, the echoes of which are with us yet” (Judaism, A Portrait, 1960, p. 122). How true! Judaism, while surely consisting of certain beliefs, is open to self-critique, debate, and ongoing discussions that have almost never been resolved. This spoke to my imagination. A religion with no dogmas, always open to new ideas! What could be better than that!

3. In a previous post I called attention to a bizarre segulah from R. Zvi Hirsch Kaidonover which I didn’t translate and which I suggested the police might regard as a form of sexual abuse. The text is as follows:

ועוד סגולה נפלאה לתינוק הנולד שלא יקרה עליו חולי נכפה בר מינן, מיד כשנולד ישימו בפיו ברית קודש של תינוק ויהיה ניצול כל ימיו מחולי נכפה

If you thought that this was strange, I guarantee that you will find the following, which was sent to me by a friend, even stranger.

The text comes from Meir Benayahu, Toldot ha-Ari (Jerusalem, 1967), pp. 224-225, and describes a “cure” recommended by R. Isaac Luria. The passage is too bizarre to translate. If the man who “came to the rescue” was just a man off the street it would be one thing. However, we see that it was none other than R. Moses Galante, a great sixteenth-century Torah scholar of the land of Israel who was given real semikhah by R. Joseph Karo. Even though the pre-modern mind was able to come up with all sorts of strange “cures”, I would like to believe that the entire story is a fiction. But even if it never happened, the fact that people believed it happened tells us a great deal about their mindset.

On p. 110 n. 4, Benayahu cites the following text from R. Hayyim Vital (and note the shocking passage I have underlined):

בענין לילית ההורגות את הילדים מבן שמונה ימים ללידתם . . . נטיתי אז ושמתי אבר מילת נער קטן בפי הילד תכף כשנולד טרם שיינק . . . ואמנם פעמים אחרות עשיתי כל הנ”ל וגם דברים אחרים, שנבאר עתה, ולא ניזוק. ואלה הם: לשים אבר מילת אבי הנולד עצמו בפי הילד טרם שיינק

On p. 111 he records a story that once when a lion was about to attack R. Hayyim Ben Attar

גילה בריתו ברית קדש, וכשראה אותה האריה ברח מפניו . . . שמעולם לא ראה טפת קרי

All of these texts relate to the power of circumcision, a topic that is relevant to an earlier post here where I discussed the notion that Eliezer took an oath to Abraham by placing his hand on Abraham’s circumsision.

Returning to the first story quoted from Benayahu, there is no doubt that people can believe all sorts of strange things. There is currently a situation in London where a leading rabbi is charged with inappropriate contact with women. This rabbi denies the charges. However, he has admitted, so I am informed, that he did touch women in non-sexual ways, but this was done as part of his “therapy” which he claims was halakhically permitted. Now obviously we can’t have a situation where a male therapist, or “therapist”, is arm wrestling or massaging his female patients. In fact, after everything we have seen these last few years, I think we can all agree that there can’t be any touching.

Imagine my surprise, therefore, when in the most recent volume of Ma’ayan Omer I came across the following text:

R. Ovadiah gives permission for a kabbalist to touch a woman as part of his kabbalistic healing. R. Ovadiah requires that he wear gloves when touching her, but this is still surprising, as once such a heter is given it is not too difficult to see where this can lead..

I didn’t know what to make of the words צריכה להתפשט. Does this mean that a woman can remove all her clothes if that’s what the kabbalist needs in order to complete the healing process? (According to news reports, the Breslov figure currently in the news for sexual impropriety operated in this way). I was certain it couldn’t mean this, but then what does it mean? I wrote to R. Avraham Yosef and here is his reply.

Even with R. Avraham’s explanations, both regarding the nature of the pesak and the limited removing of clothes, it is still very difficult to stomach. But I acknowledge that this is only because of my rationalist perspective and my assumption that virtually all of these “kabbalists” are more snake oil salesmen than anything else. (R. Yitzhak Kaduri, a real kabbalist, said that an authentic mekubal does not charge money for helping people, so that immediately knocks out some of the most popular “kabbalists” who make a very good living at their craft.) However, for one who believes that a kabbalist can heal just like a doctor, then all the heterim that apply to a male doctor, including touching a woman while healing her, would also apply to a kabbalist. Skeptical as I am, I wonder why such a powerful kabbalist can’t do his healing without touching the woman.[10]

[1] This information is available simply by googling “Besamim Rosh”, and the first two results are from Seforim Blog posts. The third result is Wikipedia which also states that Besamim Rosh is an eighteenth century forgery.

[2] This can be seen from how he cites the source, and see also his note to Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 117, where he is explicit (this source was noted by one of the commenters on Torah Musings).

[3] Hilkhot Berakhot 7:2 (p. 106 in the Mossad ha-Rav Kook edition).

[4] R. Baruch Gigi, one of the roshei yeshiva of Yeshivat Har Etzion, believes that women saying birkat ha-mazon together with their families can be counted towards a mezuman. See Yonatan Gershon, “On Women Joining in a Zimmun,” Meorot 9 (2011), available here. I have yet to see this acted on in practice.

[5] Hashukei Hemed, Berakhot 51b. R. Zilberstein’s books contain some of the strangest cases. I don’t know whether these are actual cases or if people just ask him the strange questions knowing he will respond, or if perhaps even he makes up the questions so that he can then discuss the matter להגדיל תורה ולהאדירה

[6] See Yalkut Yosef, Dinei Keriat ha-Megillah, no. 12.

[7] See here.

[8] David Berger has recently alluded to Partnership Minyanim in his “Texts, Values, and Historical Change: Reflections on the Dynamics of Jewish Law,” in Michael J. Harris, et al., eds., Radical Responsibility: Celebrating the Thought of Chief Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks (Jerusalem, 2012). In referring to Haym Soloveitchik’s thesis in “Rupture and Reconstruction,” Berger writes (p. 204): “[S]ome of those who lionize the mimetic society as they savour the anti-haredi uses of Soloveitchik’s analysis are simultaneously impelled by feminist convictions to change generations of synagogue practice on the basis of textual analysis far more tenuous than the considerations that lead the traditionalist Orthodox to their usually more stringent deviations from the practices of the past. Affirmation or rejection of a mimetic ideal can depend very much on whose ox is being gored.”

[9] I think readers will appreciate this letter of R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg. It first appeared in Mordechai Eliav and Yitzhak Rafael, eds., Sefer Shragai (Jerusalem, 1981), p. 275, and was reprinted in Ba’ayot Aktualiyot le-Or ha-Halakhah (Jerusalem, 1993), pp. 58-59. We are now sixty years after R. Weinberg wrote his letter, and not only have things not gotten better, but they have actually gotten much worse.

[10] In the recently published Mesorat Moshe, p. 612, it records that R. Moshe Feinstein responded as follows, after being told of a dentist who sexually assaulted female patients while they were sedated: אמר רבינו שממש פלא, דהלא זה כנגד החזקה שאומן לא “מרע אומנותו”. I don’t understand R. Moshe’s surprise, as he could say the same thing about teachers or anyone else who engages in this sort of behavior. Since we are dealing with people who are sick, there is no rational calculation for which you can apply the concept of מרע אומנותו. We have already seen numerous people who have destroyed their lives and their families by engaging in the sort of behavior, and taking the sort of risks, that simple self-interest would be enough to deter normal people from. (In a future post I will discuss other passages in Mesorat Moshe.) Also regarding sexual (and physical) abuse, R. Yosef Shalom Elyashiv writes, in discussing whether to inform the authorities (Kovetz Teshuvot, vol. 4, no. 198):

יש גם לשקול בגדר של ההתעוללות, שבהשקפה שלהם היא אחרת לגמרי משלנו

What does this mean? In what way is the religious Jewish approach to this matter superior to that found among non-Jews and non-religious Jews?

And finally, I found what I thought was a strange passage in R. Abraham Bornstein, Avnei Nezer, Even ha-Ezer no. 44. Much like Todd Akin, the Avnei Nezer thought that a woman couldn’t get pregnant through rape (unless . . . actually I would rather not explain it).

ואם היתה אנוסה מתחילה ועד סוף ולא רצתה בו כלל אי אפשר שתתעבר, רק שיש חשש שמא תחילה באונס וסופו ברצון . . . אלא ודאי כמ”ש משום דבאונס מתחלה ועד סוף אי אפשר שתתעבר

I have not found such a notion in any earlier rabbinic source. However, S. of On the Main Line called my attention to Rachel P. Maines, The Technology of Orgasm (Baltimore, 2009), pp. 51-52, from which we see that there was indeed a long-standing view that conception was not possible without female orgasm or at least desire.