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Torah mi-Sinai and More

Torah mi-Sinai and More
by Marc B. Shapiro
1. Some people have requested that I do more posts on theological matters, as I have done in the past. So let me begin with what I think will be a three-part series on Torah mi-Sinai.
In a previous post, available here, I mentioned R. Shlomo Fisher’s rejection of R. Moshe Feinstein’s view that R. Yehudah he-Hasid’s “biblical criticism” was not authentic. As R. Fisher put it, R. Moshe assumed that even in the past everyone had to accept Maimonides’ principles, but that was not the case, and when it came to Mosaic authorship R. Yehudah he-Hasid disagreed with Maimonides. R. Uri Sharki has apparently also discussed this with R. Fisher, as he cites the latter as claiming that the issue of whether post-Mosaic additions are religiously objectionable is a dispute between the medieval Ashkenazic and Sephardic sages. See here
What this means is that in medieval Ashkenaz it was not regarded as heretical to posit post-Mosaic additions, while the opposite was the case in the Sephardic world (and this would explain why Ibn Ezra could only hint to his view). I am skeptical of this point, particularly because Ibn Ezra’s secrets are, in fact, explained openly by people who lived in the Sephardic world.[1] Yet Haym Soloveitchik has also recently made same point, and pointed to differences between Jews living in the Christian and Muslim worlds. His argument is that since medieval Ashkenazic Jews were not confronted with a theological challenge of the sort Jews dealt with in the Islamic world, where Jews were accused of altering the text of the Pentateuch, there was no assumption in medieval Europe that belief in what we know as Maimonides’ Eighth Principle was a binding doctrine of faith.
Here is some of what Soloveitchik wrote (the emphasis does not appear in the original):
One tanna had stated, simply and with no ado, that the last eight verses were of Divine origin but not of Mosaic authorship, and R. Yehudah he-Hasid added that there were several more verses that were not penned by Moses. Was such a position seen as being thoroughly mistaken? Most probably. Was it viewed as odd and non-conformist? Undoubtedly; though hardly more eccentric than R. Yehudah’s view that King David, to flesh out his book of Psalms, lifted from the text of the “original” Pentateuch many anonymous “psalms” that Moses had penned! Were these strange and misguided views, however, perceived as being in any way heretical or even dangerous? At that time and place, certainly not. They contained no concession to the surrounding culture, opened no Pandora’s Box of questions. Indeed, one can take the religious temperature of R. Yehudah he-Hasid’s explanation by the matter of fact way European medieval commentators (rishonim) treated the passages in Menahot and Bava Batra where the tannaitic dictum of Joshua’s authorship is brought.[2] In their world, these words did not abut any slippery slope of a “documentary hypothesis” or of “Jewish forgery”. No need, therefore, to reinterpret this passage or to forfend any untoward implications. What concerned R. Yehudah he-Hasid’s contemporaries, the Tosafists, in this statement were its practical halakhic implications for the Sabbath Torah readings, not its theological or dogmatic ones, for to them, as to R. Yehudah, there were none.[3]
Sharki, who is a leading kiruv figure in the Religious Zionist world, adds something quite amazing. From the standpoint of Ibn Ezra and R. Yehudah he-Hasid, which he sees as an acceptable approach, he writes that what is important is the belief that the Torah is true and from God.
 עיקר האמונה הוא להאמין שכל דברי התורה אמת ושהם מפי ה’
In other words, Mosaic authorship is not something people need to put such a focus on.
Sharki goes even further, stating that according to the Kuzari, post-Mosaic prophets could add to and delete material in the Torah. As support for this viewpoint, he cites an article by R. Yosef Kellner in Tzohar 22. (Kellner is a leading interpreter of R. Kook from the hardali camp.) I looked at Kellner’s article and found nothing that says this explicitly. However, I did find an interesting statement in Kellner’s article, and presumably this is what Sharki was referring to (although it still doesn’t say what Sharki claims it does):
אך לכוזרי, כמו לבה”ג, לא כל התרי”ג מצוות התגלו בסיני ההיסתורי, אם כי כולם דברי קבלה ממשה בסיני-הפנימי-נשמתי
This could be a very radical statement, depending on how it is interpreted. On the one hand, it could mean that some mitzvot in the Torah were actually established in a post-Mosaic era, but that is OK since these mitzvot arose from the spiritual wellsprings of Sinai. This is how Sharki must understand the passage. But I think it is obvious that Kellner doesn’t mean this at all, and the reference to the Halakhot Gedolot is the give-away. As is well known, the Halakhot Gedolot counts among the 613 commandments certain rabbinic laws. What the logic of this position is is not our concern at present. For our purposes what is important is that the Behag, and Kuzari, never say that  there are mitzvot in the Torah that are post-Mosaic, only that post-Mosaic mitzvot can be counted as part of the 613. There is an enormous difference between this understanding and the following, which is Sharki’s formulation:
לפי שיטת הכוזרי שגם הנביאים יכולים להוסיף או לגרוע בתורה, בניגוד לדעת הרמב”ם
David Halivni, Breaking the Tablets: Jewish Theology After the Shoah, p. 99 (called to my attention by Cemmie Green), states that according to R. Saadiah Gaon, “certain areas of the Law were originally more complete and more explicit in the Torah given by Moses to the people.” Here is the text he bases this statement on, found in Lewin’s introduction to Iggeret R. Sherira Gaon, p. X:
שבתורת משה אנו מוצאים הרבה ענינים הכתובים באריכות כמו למשל מעשה משכן, פרשת מלואים, פקודי ישראל וחנוכת המזבח. ובנגוד לזה כתובים בקצור נמרץ חוקי הזיבות, וחוקי עבור השנה נכללים רק במלת “אביב” גרידא, מה שהוא תמוה מאד אם לא נניח, שגם החוקים הללו היו כתובים באר היטיב אלא שאינם אצלינו בכתב אלא מסורים בעל פה.
It certainly does seem as if R. Saadiah is saying that some laws were removed from the Torah. Yet I also see how someone can argue that, contrary to Halivni, it does not say anything about these laws originally appearing in the Torah. It could be that he is only telling us that part of the “Oral Law” was written down in Moses’ day.
Assuming the latter explanation is what R. Saadiah means, there is good reason to assume that he was not being frank here. At a lecture at the University of Scranton, Prof. Daniel Lasker memorably stated that “all is fair in love and polemics.” If R. Saadiah issaying that part of the Oral Law was written down in Moses’ day, I believe he was twisting the truth as part of his battle with the Karaites. The Karaites were arguing that the Oral Law was not authentic, and R. Saadiah replied that not only was it authentic, but at least some of it was even written down in Moses’ day, thus precluding the sorts of errors that would arise from an oral tradition. R. Saadiah’s approach here would thus be no different than his claim that the calendar was the original way to determine the new moon, with sighting a later innovation. Already Maimonides declared that R. Saadiah did not really believe this, but found it useful to argue this way in the midst of a polemic against the Karaites.[4]
R. Yuval Sherlo was recently asked if it is acceptable to posit post-Mosaic authorship of passages of the Torah, following in the paths of R. Judah he-Hasid and Ibn Ezra.[5] Rather than reject the latter viewpoint, he claims that it is important to stress the ikkar ha-ikkarim, namely, that the authority of the Torah does not depend on who wrote it. What is crucial is that it was given by God. Even if there are verses that were written by someone else other than Moses, as was held by R. Judah he-Hasid and Ibn Ezra, this is not heresy, unless one assumes that these portions were not written through Divine Inspiration. Sherlo himself acknowledges that there is a good deal of evidence apparently pointing to the fact that some verses are post-Mosaic.
ישנם סימנים רבים בתורה שלכאורה מעידים על כך שחלק מפסוקי התורה נכתבו לאחר משה רבינו
 He concludes:
על כן, בשעה שמאמינים במוצא העליון המוחלט של כל פסוקי התורה אין איסור להרחיב את מה שאמרו חכמינו על הפסוקים האחרונים בתורה לעוד מקומות בתורה, בשל העיקרון הבסיסי הקיים בדברים אלה – התורה היא מוצא “פיו” המוחלט של ריבונו של עולם.
Needless to say, this is in direct contradiction to Maimonides’ Eighth Principle, and is an opening for Higher Biblical Criticism to enter the Orthodox world. For those who don’t read Hebrew, what Sherlo is saying is that Mosaic authorship does not matter, as long as one accepts that the Torah is divine. This is a huge theological step (a “game changer”), which for those who accept it entirely alters the playing field. This is such a break with the standard Orthodox view that I don’t know why Sherlo’s position has not received any publicity. Let me say it again, in case people haven’t been paying close attention: Sherlo’s argument permits Higher Criticism, as long as one asserts that the entire Torah is divinely inspired.
Sherlo is not some fringe figure. He is Rosh Yeshiva of the Hesder Yeshiva in Petah Tikva and a major personality in religious Zionism. (In the next installment of this series I will present further evidence that in some parts of the Modern Orthodox world the old taboo against Higher Criticism has begun to fade.)
Not surprisingly, Sherlo’s position was challenged by some commenters and he in turn defended what he wrote. Interestingly, one of the commenters writes about Ezra editing the Torah, and Sherlo does not reject this. Instead, he asserts that whoever arranged the Torah did it with prophecy that was the equal of Moses’ prophecy.
מי שסידר את התורה אף הוא עשה זאת בנבואה [!] התורה ולא בנבואה שהיא פחות מנבואת משה רבינו
In other words, Sherlo has adopted Rosenzweig’s point that “R”, instead of standing for “Redactor”, really means “Rabbenu.”[6]
When this formulation was challenged, since how could there be prophets of the level of Moses as this would contradict the Seventh Principle, Sherlo was unperturbed.
[שאלה] מה פירוש נביא שסדר את התורה עשה זאת בנבואת משה רבינו. האם היו עוד נביאים כמשה? הלא מעיקרי הדת שלא היו.
[תשובה] לפי הרמב“ם אלו עיקרי הדת. ברם, אפילו אמוראים סברו אחרת לגבי הפסוקים האחרונים בתורה
In other words, since there are amoraim who disagree with Maimonides’ Principle, it is not binding.[7]
In speaking of the Torah, Sherlo uses this provocative formulation (emphasis added):
ניסוח התורה הוא ניסוח שאנו מתייחסים אליו כולו כאילו כולו יצא מרבונו של עולם בדרגת “תורה” ולא בדרגה נמוכה ממנה.
One of the commenters asks as follows (and both of the possibilities he suggests are far from traditional):
הרב כותב כי “ניסוח התורה הוא ניסוח שאנו מתייחסים אליו כולו כאילו כולו יצא מריבונו של עולם”. האם זהו רק יחס שלנו, והיינו שיש לכתוב סמכות של תורה, או שבאמת אלוקים דיבר וסיעתו של עזרא כתבה?
Sherlo replies that he simply does not know, and that we don’t know what the Torah looked like in the years after it was given (until the days when the Torah she-ba’al peh was written down, and quotations of the Torah are found there). In other words, it might be significantly different than the Torah we have today:
אנחנו לא יודעים. יש חור שחור בתולדות מסירת התורה, כי אין לנו בדיוק מושג מה היה באלף השנים שבין מתן תורה לבין כתיבת התורה שבעל פה. לכן התנסחתי בנוסח זה.
In a previous post I already called attention to a comment by the great R. Solomon David Sassoon, who wrote as follows (Natan Hokhmah li-Shelomo, p. 106 [emphasis in original; I learnt of this passage from  R. Moshe Shamah]):

אבל אם יאמר פסוקים אלה נביא אחר כתב אותם מפי הגבורה ומודה שקטע זה הוא מן השמים ומפי הגבורה, אדם שאומר כך אינו נקרא אפיקורוס, מה שהגדיר אותו כאפיקורוס אינו זה שאמר שלא משה כתב את הקטע אלא בזה שהוא אומר שדבר שזה מדעתו ומפי עצמו אמרו ושאין זה מן השמים

This too can provide a religious justification for Biblical Criticism.

Let me make one more comment relating to Biblical Criticism. (There is, of course, more to say, but this can wait until the next installment.) Those who have read my posts know that I find it very interesting when Orthodox figures attack a position as foolish or heretical not knowing that this very position was stated by a great sage. If one was dealing with a detached academic, obviously heresy wouldn’t be a concern. And as for regarding a position as foolish, even if it is pointed out to the detached academic that, for example, Aristotle held this view, he would not retract from his statement that the position he criticized was foolish. It would just be an example where the great Aristotle adopted a foolish position. But in the Torah world, this sort of attitude is improper, so people are in a bind when they learn that the position they thought was foolish was actually held by a great sage.[8] In many cases I assume the people cannot change the way they think. They still think the position is foolish, but they can’t say this publicly anymore. Let me given an example of this relating to Biblical Criticism.

As is well-known, one of the arguments of early Biblical Criticism was that the “Book of the Law”, found by Hilkiah and given to Josiah (see 2 Kings 22 and 2 Chronicles 34), was actually the book of Deuteronomy, which the Critics assume to be the latest of the books of the Pentateuch.[9] They regard it as a pseudepigraphical document, attributed to Moses. In other words, it was a pious fraud created to provide the basis for Josiah’s reform. Readers can correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think that this theory has many advocates in recent scholarship. In any event, what concerns me here is that when rabbis and polemicists argue against Biblical Criticism, they often tear part the claim that Deuteronomy is the subject of the Josiah story. One can find lectures online where the speaker will mention this notion, and then reject it with great contempt. The attitude expressed is that anyone with any understanding of the Torah, or even of simple peshat of the relevant verses, would realize that Josiah story must be dealing with a complete Torah, not one book of the Pentateuch. Some go so far as to make it seem that only an idiot could conclude that Josiah is dealing with the book of Deuteronomy. For a traditionalist, this would appear to make perfect sense, since who ever heard of dividing the Torah into separate scrolls?[10]         
Yet if the people arguing so strongly against the Josiah-Deuteronomy connection would look at the version of the story in 2 Chron. 34, they would find something that would shock them. While verses 14 and 15 speak of finding ספר תורת ה’ ביד משה  and ספר התורה, the commentary attributed to Rashi understands this to mean משנה תורה, i.e., the book of Deuteronomy! In other words, the position of the Bible Critics as to which book was “found”,[11] and the position attacked so mercilessly by the opponents of the Biblical Critics, is in fact held by a rishon! I am not saying that this rishon is a proto-Biblical Critic, or that he denies the Mosaic authorship of Deuteronomy. But he does say that the book found, and which was read to Josiah and so affected him, was not the Torah itself, but only the book of Deuteronomy. I grant that this is an unusual position, but now that we have seen what this rishon holds, does this mean that this viewpoint now has to be treated with more respect, as opposed to the current treatment it gets at the hands of Orthodox polemicists?[12]
This notion, that the book Hilkiah found was Deuteronomy, is also advocated by R. Elijah Benamozegh. [13] Benamozegh states that if this viewpoint is correct, it means that from early on there was a practice to write the book of Deuteronomy separately from the rest of the Pentateuch. He also cites a rabbinic view that the Torah that the king carried was only the book of Deuteronomy.[14] Based upon this, he explains why the book found was brought to the king, since it was precisely this book that the king was obligated to write and carry with himself. Benamozegh concludes:
סוף דבר קרוב ונראה שהיו מעתיקים ס’ מ”ת בפ”ע כמו שנוכיח להבא בע”ה כי ספר תורת משה נכתבה בימי קדם חלקים ונתחים כל א’ בפ”ע, ובראש כל אתוון מה שהעידו רבותינו באומרם: תורה מגלה מגלה נתנה
2. Since in the previous section I referred to Ibn Ezra’s view on post-Mosaic additions to the Torah, let me say a little bit more about this. At the beginning of his commentary to Deuteronomy chapter 34, Ibn Ezra states that the last twelve verses of the Pentateuch were written by Joshua. The Talmud only offers this possibility concerning the last eight verses. The Kol Bo, Seder Tefillat ha-Moadot (ed. Avraham [Jerusalem, 1992), vol. 3, p. 220) writes:
ושמנה פסוקים אשר בזאת הברכה שהם מויעל משה עד ויהושע בן נון, יחיד קורא אותם.
The problem with this formulation is that there are twelve verses from ויעל משה (Deut. 34:1), not eight. I presume that instead of ויעל משה  the text should read וימת משה (Deut. 34:5), which is the eighth verse from the end and what the Talmud refers to. It is also possible that instead of stating “eight verses” it should read “twelve verses,” and the Kol Bo would then be agreeing with Ibn Ezra.[15]
In The Limits of Orthodox Theology I referred to Avat Nefesh, an anonymous medieval commentary on Ibn Ezra, as one of those who understood the latter as positing post-Mosaic additions. I had access to the Genesis portion of the commentary which appeared in William Gartig’s 1994 Hebrew Union College doctoral dissertation. A typescript of the complete commentary is now available on Otzar ha-Hokhmah, and this typescript pre-dates 1994. (In the preface to the typescript, the transcriber presents evidence that the author is R. Yedayah ha-Penini [ca. 1270-1340].)[16] In his commentary to Gen. 12:6, Avat Nefesh states that according to Ibn Ezra “many verses” in the Torah were only added after Moses’ death. He also notes that this is the focus of most of Ibn Ezra’s “secrets”.
כי כונתו שזה לא כתב משה אך נכתב אחר שנכבשה הארץ וכן דעתו בהרבה פסוקים ורוב סודותיו סובבים בזה כאשר אמר בראש אלה הדברים.
With the complete commentary we can also see what he says in Deut. 1:1. Here again he explains Ibn Ezra’s secret to be referring to post-Mosaic verses. Yet he also expresses his disagreement with Ibn Ezra and defends Mosaic authorship, although it is not clear if he is disagreeing in general or only with regard to the example he is discussing, where he explains why the expression בעבר הירדן is not an anachronism.
The principle by which Ibn Ezra determined that certain verses are post-Mosaic is if they contain what he regarded as clear anachronisms. All of the examples he gives in his commentary to Deut. 1:1 fall into this category. R. Joseph Bonfils famously argues that while Ibn Ezra acknowledged post-Mosaic additions of individual words and verses, which function as explanatory glosses, Ibn Ezra did not believe that there could be entire sections that are post-Mosaic. This is how Bonfils explains why Ibn Ezra, in his commentary to Gen. 36:31, responded so sharply to Yitzhaki’s suggestion that Gen. 36:31-39 is post-Mosaic:
וחלילה חלילה שהדבר עמו . . . וספרו ראוי להשרף
The problem with these verses is that they begin with the following: “And these are the kings that reigned in the land of Edom, before there reigned any king over the children of Israel.” Some viewed it is an anachronism to speak of the Israelite monarchy when still in the desert. As mentioned in The Limits of Orthodox Theology, R. Judah he-Hasid, R. Avigdor Katz, and according to one Tosafist collection also Rashbam identified these verses as post-Mosaic. As far as I can tell, there is no evidence to support Bonfil’s supposition that Ibn Ezra, for dogmatic reasons, denied that there could be post-Mosaic additions of entire sections. In the case of Gen. 36:31-39, there are internal reasons why Ibn Ezra would not see it as problematic, as he explains in his commentary.
Returning to Avat Nefesh, there is something else noteworthy in the commentary. He mentions that Ibn Ezra believes that “many verses” are post-Mosaic. Although Ibn Ezra himself doesn’t supply us with that many verses, once we assume that Ibn Ezra was guided by what he viewed as anachronisms in pointing to post-Mosaic additions, there is no reason to conclude that the examples he gives in his commentary to Deut. 1:1 exhaust the list. In support of Avat Nefesh’s point, let me mention the following: Ibn Ezra lists Gen. 12:6, “And the Canaanite was then in the land,” as one of the post-Mosaic additions. Understood according to their simple sense, these words can be seen as anachronistic as the Canaanites were still in the Land of Israel in the days of Moses. In other words, the words are written from the perspective of one living in a generation when there were no longer Canaanites in the Land of Israel. If these words are post-Mosaic, then the second half of Gen. 13:7 must also be post-Mosaic, as it says, “And the Canaanite and the Perizzite dwelt then in the land.” Just as Ibn Ezra didn’t feel it was necessary to spell out his view with regard to Gen. 13:7, so too, Avat Nefesh believes, there are other similar cases.
Avat Nefesh provides an example of this in his commentary to Num. 13:24, where he writes that according to Ibn Ezra (see his commentary, ibid.) at least some of what appears in this verse was written in the days of the Judges.
ר”ל שוירדוף עד דן נכתב לפי דעתו בימי השופטים שאז נקרא שם העיר דן כשם דן אביהם, כן כוונתו בנחל אשכול שנכתב אחרי כן בשמו שקראו הקורא
3. Let us now return to R. Shlomo Fisher, with whom we began this post. Despite coming from a very haredi background, he has close ties with the religious Zionist world. You can see many of his shiurim on www.yeshiva.org.il and here is his picture.
It is because of his ties with religious Zionists that R. Shach criticized him in conversation with R. Mordechai Elefant, late Rosh Yeshiva of the ITRI yeshiva, presumably as a way of pressuring R. Elefant to fire R. Fisher.

Here is how R. Elefant told the story, in his own words:

Rav Shlomo Fisher is a member of my faculty and one of the most brilliant talmudists of this generation. He was born and raised in the heart of Meah Shearim, but he has connections with religious Zionist institutions. I once came into Rav Shach, and he started calling Rav Shlomo a kalyekker [someone not firmly devoted to the purest Torah ideals]. I was annoyed, but I didn’t say anything. This happened a second time. I said to myself then, “If this happens again, I have to do something about it.” It happened again. So I went into Rav Shlomo’s room here in the yeshiva, and I took out a letter written by the Steipler in which he calls Rav Shlomo “pe’er ha-dor” (glory of the generation). Next time I went to Rav Shach, he said again that Rav Shlomo is a kalyekker. I said, “Rav Shach, listen to me. The Steipler is also a kalyekker.” He looked at me like I was crazy, but then I showed him the letter. I never heard any more complaints about Rav Shlomo. I told this to Rav Shlomo and it didn’t mean a thing to him. The only thing he cares about is understanding the Torah.
R. Elefant continued with the following story:
Then there was a time when a member of my own staff came to me with similar objections. He wanted me to get rid of Rav Shlomo. He quotes Bialik, Nietzsche, and all sorts of other things that are generally unacceptable in yeshivot.[17] I told him, “You’re right, but I’ve got one problem. You and me, we can teach these boys here how to understand Talmud. But there’s a lot more to education than that. Who’s going to teach these kids about purity, humility, and integrity? You? Me? That’s what we need Rav Shlomo for.” The guy chuckled and agreed with me.
I have previously mentioned that R. Fisher is, to my knowledge, the only gadol be-Yisrael who is also an expert in medieval Jewish philosophy. Many are disappointed that he does not take a public profile and express his views on issues of the day. If you are part of the group that studies with him every week, then you are fortunate to hear his views (which sometimes filter out). But what about the rest of the world?
A couple more stories R. Elefant told of his relationship with R. Shach are worth repeating. The two of them were close friends for decades, from before the time when R. Shach was recognized as the leader of the Lithuanian Torah world. That is why R. Elefant was able to speak to him in a way that others would never have dared.
Once R. Elefant was in Bnei Brak to give a shiur, and he went to visit R. Shach.
I went into Rav Shach’s room. He greeted me and asked what my lecture was about. I said, “Rav Shach, let’s be frank with each other. You don’t want to know what I lectured about, and I don’t want to know what you lectured about. I came here because you want to shoot the breeze.” His laugh was worth a million bucks to me.

The other story relates to a conflict between R. Shach and R. Yehudah Zev Segal of Manchester. R. Shach was upset with R. Segal because the latter didn’t accept R. Shach’s views which were creating great conflict between the yeshiva world and the hasidim.

Rav Shach heard that I was a friend of Rabbi Segal’s, so he told me he wanted to talk with me about him next time I was in Bnei Brak. It wasn’t too long before I was there, and Rav Shach asked me what I knew about Rabbi Segal. I told him, “I’ll tell you the truth. Rav Shach, you are the most powerful man in this world. You build governments, you break governments. What you say goes. People say about you “kocho ug’vuraso molei olam.” But Rabbi Segal is different. His opinion counts over there in the other world.Rav Shach’s attendants were dumbstruck. They couldn’t believe I had the nerve to say that to his face. But I didn’t meant to insult Rav Shach and he wasn’t fazed. He asked, “Do you really mean that?” I said I did, and after that he left Rabbi Segal alone.
Here is some of what R. Elefant said about Saul Lieberman.

When Lieberman came to Israel, the Brisker Rav acted like he was his best friend. They asked him why, and he had a one-word explanation, “mishpochoh.” They were cousins.

One of the Rav’s sons, I think it was Meir, got engaged to a girl from a family called Benedikt. I was invited to the engagement party. The Brisker Rav was sitting next to Saul Lieberman. I saw it. On Lieberman’s other side was the Mir Rosh Yeshiva, Reb Leizer Yehudah Finkel. That time Lieberman was persona non grata.
Here is another story from R. Elefant.
Lieberman was good friends with Rav Hutner. They were both students of Rav Kook, and they palled around in New York back in the fifties. They both used to go to the 42nd Street Library because there were lots of seforim there. Rav Hutner had a beard as black as coal back then. He wore a short jacket. Lieberman was once standing there in the library and who should come in but his friend, Rav Hutner. Lieberman says in Yiddish, “Here comes God’s dog.” Rav Hutner retorted, “Better to be a dog of God than to be a god to dogs.” Rav Hutner told me that one himself.
4. In a recent post on his blog, R. Daniel Eidensohn refers to my comment in this post where I suggested that the lenient attitude towards pedophilia in much of right wing Orthodoxy is due to the fact that the real trauma of sexual abuse is not something that one can learn about in traditional Jewish sources but comes to us from psychology, and as such is suspect in those circles that see psychology as a “non-Jewish” discipline. Let me offer another example that illustrates how today we take sexual abuse much more seriously than in previous years. Here is a responsum no. 378 from R. Joseph Hayyim’s Torah li-Shemah.

As you can see, the sexual abuse of a child under nine years old was not regarded by him as an earth-shattering violation (certainly not at the level of violating Shabbat or eating non-kosher food). While we regard child sexual abuse as one of the worst things imaginable, it is easy to see how someone whose only exposure to these matters would have been through traditional sources would not see it as such a terrible offense, namely, an offense that would require one turn the person into the police. In another responsum, Torah li-Shemah no. 441, R. Joseph Hayyim writes as follows regarding one who has sex with a child under nine years old:
והרי זה הבועל כמי שמשחית זרעו ע”ג עצם ואבנים
In other words, he sees this as an issue of wasting seed, without any cognizance of the terrible damage done to the child.[18] Responsa like this are important in showing how, with increased knowledge, attitudes have changed. What our generation regards as the most vile behavior was often seen in a very different light in previous generations. This is the only limud zekhut for those who in past years did not take sexual abuse seriously.
R. Ysoscher Katz also called my attention to a relevant discussion on a Yiddish site. See here. One of the matters discussed is a responsum of R. Yair Hayyim Bacharach, Havot Yair no. 108.

I think any modern person reading it will be surprised to see that there is no emotion shown, no reflection on the difficult circumstances of the girl. Everything is examined from a halakhic standpoint. But this again shows how differently we approach these sorts of matters than was the case years ago.
If sexual abuse is treated just like another sexual transgression, then the lenient approach some rabbis have adopted towards it makes sense. After all, shouldn’t a rabbi want to give a sinner the opportunity to repent? Sexual sins have always been regarded differently than kashrut or Shabbat violations. If a rebbe was seen eating a hamburger in McDonalds or driving on Shabbat he would immediately be fired, without any opportunity to repent. But more leeway is given when it comes to sexual sins, the reason being, no doubt, that everyone understands the power of the evil inclination in this area. A good illustration of my point is seen in R. Aaron Walkin, Zekan Aharon, vol. 2, no. 30.

The responsum deals with a shochet who was seen entering the home of a “loose” woman. R. Zalman Sorotzkin didn’t know what do about it and wrote to R. Walkin. R. Walkin refuses to disqualify the shochet, and tells R. Sorotzkin that even if there were two witnesses testifying to the matter it would not change his mind, since this would only turn the shochet into a mumar le-davar ehad! It is true that not all rabbis would have been as lenient as R. Walkin,[19] but the fact that this great posek ruled the way he did is quite significant.[20]

Finally, I am curious to hear what some of the lawyers reading this post have to say about the following: Some time ago, I was contacted by a man who wanted to talk to me about being an expert witness for the defense in the appeal of a sexual abuse conviction. The case is actually one of the worst we have seen. I was told that my role would only be to answer questions about sexual mores in the hasidic world, in particular, how they understand tzeniut. While I am far from an expert on this, not being from that world, the defense team wanted an academic on the stand. (Needless to say, there are academics who would also be much better choices than me.) .

Nothing came of this discussion, and I myself decided that I would have nothing to do with the case after learning the particulars, which are indeed sickening. My question is as follows: We know that defense lawyers are not personally tainted even if they represent horrible people. We recognize that this is their job. My sense is that people would not give the same leeway to an expert witness, and he would be viewed very negatively, as one who was helping to free a sexual abuser. Yet I would like to get some feedback from the lawyers. If I would have agreed to be called to the stand to answer general questions about halakhah and tzeniut, does the fact that I was part of the defense team’s strategy mean that I would be “helping” the defense? It was made clear to me that my role would be to simply to answer general questions and I would have nothing to do with the defendant per se. Another way of framing the question is, would it have been immoral for me to agree to this role if, after having examined the evidence, I was convinced that the defendant committed terrible crimes and  should remain in jail?  

5. For the runoff quiz I asked the following:

A. What is the first volume of responsa published in the lifetime of its author?
B. There is a verse in the book of Exodus which has a very strange vocalization of a word, found nowhere else in Tanach. (The word itself is also spelled in an unusual fashion, found only one other time in Tanach). The purpose of this vocalization is apparently in order to make a rhyme. What am I referring to?
Some got the answer to the first question, and others got the answer to the second question. But only one person, Peretz Mochkin, got the answers to both.
The answer to the first question is the responsa volume Binyamin Ze’ev (Venice, 1539), by R. Benjamin Ze’ev of Arta.
The answer to the second question is the word אתכה in Ex. 29:35. It is spelled and vocalized the way it is in order to rhyme with the word ככה that appears earlier in the sentence.
וְעָשִׂיתָ לְאַהֲרֹן וּלְבָנָיו, כָּכָה, כְּכֹל אֲשֶׁר-צִוִּיתִי, אֹתָכָה
One of the sources that refers to this text is Zev Grossman, Darkhei ha-Melitzah be-Sefer Tehillim. This is a very interesting book on aspects of grammar in Tanach. Here is the title page, with an approbation of sorts from William Chomsky. I don’t know of any other book that puts the approbation on the title page, and in this case the approbation is in English. (William Chomsky, incidentally, is the father of Noam Chomsky.)

One of the things Grossman points out in his book is that there are many examples of verses where we find words in non-grammatical forms in order that they rhyme. Here is just one example, from Psalms 5:8:
וַאֲנִי–בְּרֹב חַסְדְּךָ, אָבוֹא בֵיתֶךָ;    אֶשְׁתַּחֲוֶה אֶל-הֵיכַל-קָדְשְׁךָ, בְּיִרְאָתֶךָ
In context, the final word, ביראתך, means “in fear of you”, even though this is not grammatically correct. This form is used to make the rhyme, because if one were applying grammatical rules it would not be spelled this way.
At the end of the Hebrew section of the book, Grossman has a page listing his published books.

As you can see, he also produced a set of gedolim cards. When I was young, in the 1970s, there were gedolim cards. I know this because I collected them.[21] But I never imagined that they existed already in the early 1950s.
6. In my post of January 13, 2013, I wrote: “R. Meir Schiff (Maharam Schiff) is unique in believing that one without arms should put the tefillin shel yad on the head, together with the tefillin shel rosh. This is the upshot of his comment to Gittin 58a.” I saw this comment of Maharam Schiff many years ago, and unfortunately did not examine it carefully before adding this note. As R. Ezra Bick has correctly pointed out, Maharam Schiff is not speaking about wearing tefillin shel yad on the head to fulfill the mitzvah, but only stating that this is a respectful way to carry the tefillin shel yad if you have to remove it from your arm. This has no relevance to what I wrote about someone without arms (unless he has to carry the tefillin shel yad).

[1] In The Limits of Orthodox Theology I listed numerous rishonim and aharonim who understood Ibn Ezra’s hints to mean that there are post-Mosaic additions the Torah. I have added to this list in various blog posts, and we are now up to around thirty-five different sources. Yet until now I overlooked an important text, namely, a comment by Tosafot. See Tosafot ha-Shalem, ed. Gellis, to Gen. 12:6 (p. 14):
זהו אמרו ואם איננו כן יש לו סוד, כי כוונתו שזה לא כתבו משה אך נכתב אחר שנכבשה, וכן דעתו בהרבה פסוקים
Tosafot rejects this opinion, stating:
 ואנחנו לא ניאות בזה הדעת שכל התורה כתבה משה מפי ה’ בלא חילוק ושנוי.
It is significant that Tosafot does not refer to Ibn Ezra’s interpretation as heretical. For another source that assumes that Ibn Ezra believes that there are post-Mosaic additions in the Torah, see R. Aharon Friedman, Be-Har ha-Shem Yeraeh (Kerem be-Yavneh, 2009), p. 30.
[2] I am aware of no evidence that the rishonim in the Islamic world interpreted these passages in a fundamentally different way than the Ashkenazic rishonim. As noted in The Limits of Orthodox Theology, R. Joseph Ibn Migash openly accepted the viewpoint that Joshua wrote the last eight verses of the Torah.
[3] “Two Notes on the Commentary on the Torah of R. Yehudah he-Hasid,” in Michael A. Shmidman, ed. Turim (New York, 2008), pp. 245-246. In his just published The Intellectual History and Rabbinic Culture of Medieval Ashkenaz (Detroit, 2013), p. 32, Ephraim Kanarfogel writes: “The availability of this kind of interpretational freedom and variety also allowed Hasidei Ashkenaz to be comfortable with Ibn Ezra’s stipulation of verses that may have been added to the Torah after the revelation at Sinai.” 
[4] I deal with this in my forthcoming book, where the relevant citations will be found.
[5] See here
http://www.moreshet.co.il/web/shut/shut2.asp?id=68707
[6] Rosenzweig wrote: “We, however, take this R to stand not for Redactor but for rabbenu [our rabbi]. For whoever he was, and whatever text lay before him, he is our teacher, and his theology is our teaching.” See Dan Avnon, Martin Buber: The Hidden Dialogue (Lanham, 1998), p. 50.
[7] Sherlo’s answer is not clear. He was asked about the Seventh Principle, that Moses’ prophecy is superior to all others. Rather than replying to this, he answers that there were amoraim who did not think that Moses wrote the last verses of the Torah. This, however, relates to the Eighth Principle, not the Seventh. None of the amoraim who thought that Joshua wrote the last verses assumed that he was on Moses’ prophetic level, so Sherlo’s answer is really a non-sequitur.
[8] In recent years I have seen many examples of this. Some extreme statement or ban is attributed to a haredi gadol, and commenters on haredi news sites declare that Gadol X could never have made such a hurtful and counterproductive statement. These commenters argue that it must be the “askanim” who are responsible for this. (I specifically remember such arguments in the first few days after the ban on Making of a Godol was announced.) When a few days later it becomes clear that the statement is accurate, and was indeed made by the gadol, what then are these people to do, people who just a few days prior were so adamant in rejecting the position? 

People convincing themselves that their leaders could not really mean what they say is obviously not merely a haredi issue. Here is what Paul Veyne writes: “Under France’s Old Regime, people believed and wanted to believe in the king’s kindness and that the entire problem was the fault of his ministers. If this were not the case, all was lost, since one could not hope to expel the king the way one could remove a mere minister.” See Did the Greeks Believe in Their Myths (Chicago, 1988), p. 91.

[9] Regarding the Sefer Torah found by Hilkiah, R. Jacob Emden, Birat Migdal Oz (Zhitomir, 1874), p. 152a, claims that Josiah was unable to read the old Hebrew script in this Torah, and that is why it had to be read to him. For a rejection of this view, see R. Jacob Bachrach, Ha-Yahas la-Ketav Ashuri u-le-Toldotav (Warsaw, 1854), pp. 47-48.
[10] The division of the Pentateuch into different books is itself quite ancient. See R. Hayyim Hirschensohn, Seder la-Mikra (Jerusalem, 1933), vol. 1, p. 52.
[11] As mentioned already, the Bible Critics of whom I speak don’t really believe that it was “found”.
[12] There is another unusual tradition that appears in Yemenite texts according to which the entire Torah (and also the rest of the Bible) was forgotten by the Jews during the First Exile, and Ezra later reconstituted it from memory. See R. Saadiah ben David, Midrash ha-Beur, ed. Kafih, vol. 2, p. 676. See also here.
[13] Mavo le-Torah she-Baal Peh, ed. Zini (Jerusalem, 2002), pp. 25-26.
[14] See also Bezalel Naor, The Limit of Intellectual Freedom (Spring Valley, 2011), pp. 77, 253. In Deut. 17:18 it says about the king: וְהָיָה כְשִׁבְתּוֹ, עַל כִּסֵּא מַמְלַכְתּוֹ–וְכָתַב לוֹ אֶת-מִשְׁנֵה הַתּוֹרָה הַזֹּאת
For a rejection of the view that the words “Mishneh Torah” refer to Deuteronomy, see Bachrach, Ha-Yahas la-Ketav Ashuri u-le-Toldotav, p. 70.
I have often heard the notion expressed, in line with Ibn Ezra to Deut. 4:14, Nahmanides to Lev. 8:38 and in his introduction toDeuteronomy, and Abarbanel in his introduction to Deuteronomy, that all of the mitzvot were given at Sinai or soon after. I don’t think this is the simple meaning of the Torah. After all, there are loads of mitzvot in the book of Deuteronomy, and this was years after the revelation at Sinai. Apparently, Nahmanides’ viewpoint was motivated by his dogmatic assumption. R. Bahya ben Asher, Commentary to Gen. 24:22, and Radbaz did not share Nahmanides’ outlook, with Radbaz writing: ודברי [הרמב”ן] תימה הם בעיני. See She’elot u-Teshuvot ha-Radbaz, no. 2143. Radbaz has a very provocative formulation in this responsum, and I am not sure what to make of it.
אין הכי נמי שצוה במצוות רבות בערבות מואב וכמה מצוות מצינו שאמרן משה לישראל ולא נאמר בהם צו את בני ישראל או דבר אל בני ישראל אלא משה יושב ודורש והכל יודעין שהכל מפי הגבורה
The words משה יושב ודורש are found in Bava Batra 119b where it means that Moses was expounding on a certain biblical law. As these words are used here, however, they appear to mean that Moses generated new mitzvot by means his יושב ודורש. This is not the same as God directly informing Moses of these new commandments, and I don’t know any earlier source that portrays mitzvot as originating in this fashion. It is also contradicted by how Maimonides describes the revelation of the Torah in his Eighth Principle.
               
Yet I am not certain about this, since the passage immediately following the one quoted above seems to offer a different perspective: 
וכל המצוות המחודשות אשר במשנה תורה הקב”ה אמר למשה בערבות מואב ומשה אמרן לישראל בכלל שבאר להם המצוות אשר כבר נאמרו וכל מה שנתחדש בהם מפי הקב”ה הוא ומשה לא דרש דבר מדעתו.
[15] See R. Eliah Shapiro, Eliah Rabbah 669:17.
[16] Avat Nefesh is discussed here.
[17] One student told me that he would often cite Kierkegaard.
[18] Both of these responsa, and others as well, are analyzed by Dr. Yitzhak Hershkowitz in a forthcoming article. I thank him for sharing his article with me prior to publication.
[19] For more stringent rulings, see R. Yekutiel Yehudah Greenwald, Ha-Shohet ve-ha-Shehitah ve-Sifrut ha-Rabbanut (New York, 1955), pp. 86ff.
[20] In Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, p. 211 n. 172, I refer to R. Walkin as R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg’s “short lived successor to the rabbinate of Pilwishki.” Some have wondered how I know this information, and indeed there is nothing about this in Eliezer Katzman’s articles on R. Walkin in Yeshurun vols. 11 and 12. That R. Walkin was rav of Pilwishki is found in R. Weinberg’s article about the town in Kitvei R. Weinberg, vol. 2, p. 390. In a letter to R. Kook, R. Walkin asks his advice on whether he should accept the rabbinate of Pilwishki. See Iggerot la-Reiyah (Jerusalem, 1990), no. 151. The date given in R. Walkin’s letter to R. Kook is Heshvan 5684 (1923), but this can’t be correct, as by this time R. Walkin was the rav of Pinsk. The original must say תרפ”ב not  תרפ”ג.
[21] A few readers might remember my bar mitzvah party, where some of these gedolim pictures were turned into posters. Also, smaller blow-ups were placed on each table as the table identifier. While most of the posters were thrown out, I saved one. When I attended JEC in Elizabeth for high school, I brought in the poster made from this picture of R. Elchanan Wasserman, and hung it on my classroom wall..

Everyone in the class thought this was very nice. One day I came to school and the poster was gone. Someone told me that R. Pinchas Teitz had taken it down. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why he would do that. I didn’t know then what I know now, about how many people strongly opposed R. Elchanan’s viewpoints (e.g., R. Zvi Yehudah Kook wouldn’t allow R. Elchanan’s Kovetz Ma’amarim in Merkaz ha-Rav’s library. See Hilah Wolberstein, Mashmia Yeshuah [Or Etzion, 2010], pp. 192-193, 404). But even if I knew that, this would not have been a reason for R. Teitz to take down the poster. I went to see him, first to get my poster back, and also to understand why he took it down. He explained that since we had a minyan in the classroom, it was improper to have a picture of a man on the wall, even if this man was R. Elchanan.




Two New Seforim for sale

Two New Seforim for sale1
By: Eliezer Brodt
It is with great pleasure that I announce two seforim I have just printed:

כוסו של אליהו הנביא, נפתולי מנהג בהתרקמותו, ר’ יהודה אבידע זצ”ל, נדפס לראשונה בירושלים תשי”ח, ועתה יצא לאור במהדורת צילום עם הוספות שונות ומפתח ותיקונים שנמצאו בגנזי המחבר ע”י אליעזר יהודה בראדט, כריכה רכה, 84 עמודים.

קונדיטון, מזיגה ראשונה, ר’ יחיאל גולדהבר, לשאלת חרם על ספרד משפטיך תהום רבה אסון: הטיטאניק מנקודת מבטו של העולם היהודי, כריכה קשה, 204 עמודים.

Twelve years ago I began researching the sources behind the minhag of pouring Kos Shel Eliyahu at the Pesach seder. Some of my research was published last year in an article in Ami Magazine, and a more expanded version is due out soon. Immediately after I began looking into this subject, I came across a beautifully written work, based on a wealth of sources, by R. Yehudah Avidah (Zlotnik), entitled Koso Shel Eliyahu dealing with the development of this minhag. Over the years I have read this treasure many times, each time with renewed enjoyment. A few weeks ago, while I was hunting down a rare source that R. Avidah quotes in The Bar-Ilan University Library, I saw R. Avidah’s personal copy of Koso Shel Eliyahu, along with from notes the author, listed in the Library’s Catalog. I immediately requested the volume from the rare books stacks, and upon perusal was both surprised and then delighted to find a small packet of typed and handwritten pages of addenda and corrigenda penned by the author and folded neatly into the back of the sefer, along with a newspaper clipping of an article that he had written regarding the sefer. After reading through the newspaper article I saw that R’ Avidah had intended to reprint his work with these additions but had unfortunately passed away before he had the opportunity to do so. It was then and there that I decided to reprint this valuable and rare work together with all of the author’s additions.
As the new-found material in currently in Bar-Ilan’s possession, I presently requested, and graciously received permission from the administration to publish the notes. My next step was to track down one of R. Avidah’s family members to obtain permission to reprint the actual work. After searching tediously, I located a grandson of his, who graciously allowed me to reprint the original work. Additionally, I included some pages from another of R’ Avidah’s works, related to this subject.
It seemed Divine Providence was actively at work. Upon hearing of my intent to reprint R’ Avidah’s sefer, a very close friend directed me to a copy of Koso Shel Eliyahu belonging to the renowned folklorist, Ephraim Davidson, and I was able to print his marginal notes in this current edition. Further, R’ Shmuel Ashkenazi had written two letters to his good friend R’ Avidah regarding this sefer. I received permission from him to print this as well. [These letters are part of a three volume set of Igrot Shmuel which is ready to go to print but wait funding]. I personally composed a partial bio-bibliography of R’ Avidah as an introduction, detailing the author’s life was and listing some of his many books and other publications. Finally, to complete the current edition, I included some notes and an index to the work. I highly recommend this work to anyone interested in understanding the development of the Minhag.
Another work which I just printed is called Kunditon. My good friend Rabbi Yechiel Goldhaber has a custom to send out from time to time an e-mail which includes an article of some interesting topic; sometimes the article is divided into a few parts. A few years ago he began issuing a series of articles dealing with the subject of the Ban on dwelling in or visiting Spain. In this series he researched an astonishing amassment of sources, some of which are still in manuscript form, others unheard of or extremely rare. His goal was to prove whether or not such a ban ever even existed, and if so, what were the exact circumstances behind the ban, and its extent and parameters.
Eventually he collated the material, and published it in small paperback edition, which sold out almost immediately. Over time, he found more material on the subject and decided to reprint the work with all these additions, as well an appendix discussing the repatriation and rebuilding of Jewish Communities in Spain.
Another subject he set out to research was the tragedy of the Titanic from a Jewish perspective. Much has been written on the Titanic but veritably nothing has been done in this field, namely the episode for itself as seen from a Jewish angle. After months of research in archives of various sorts, he decided to present out some of his material in the aforementioned e-mails. It was then decided to print this collection in this volume as well, augmented with much additional material.
Among the subjects he deals with are Agunah questions, stories of Jews who were supposed to be on the ship and were not, and Jews that were on the ship and their tragic fate. He has a section on the dirges composed to deal with this tragedy. Finally, one large section deals with the halachic question of who is supposed to be saved first, men or women. I highly recommend this work for anyone interested in reading all about the Jewish aspects of the tragic story of the Titanic.
Copies of the Koso Shel Eliyahu are $14 each. The price includes air mail (England, USA, Canada).
Copies of the Kunditon are $25 each. The price includes air mail (England, USA, Canada). If you buy both its $35, including air mail (England, USA, Canada).
Payment is via Pay pal.
For more information or a table of contents of either work e-mail me at eliezerbrodt@gmail.com
Copies of both works are also available at Biegeleisen in NY and at Girsa in Jerusalem.
1 Special thanks to my good friend Rabbi Dubovick for editing this piece.



New seforim, books and some random comments

 New seforim, books and some random comments
[Updated]
By: Eliezer
Brodt
Here is a list of some new seforim and books printed in the past few months.
1.
מערכת האלקות כולל פירוש מנחת יהודה להר’ יהודה חייט ופ’ פ”ז השלם [על פי כת”י], 301 עמודים, + מפתחות ועוד 25 עמודים
2.
רבנו שמעיה השושני, [מגדולי דורו של רש”י], סוד מעשה המשכן עם מ”מ והערות ע”י ר’ גור אריה הרציג, 20 עמודים
3.
ספר הכוונת [ישן] להר’ חיים ויטל עם הגהות הרמ”ז, תרסו עמודים
4.
אגרת הגר”א השלם, עלים לתרופה, עם מקורות ליקוטי הגר”א ביאורים והערות, כתבי יד, כולל שיעורים של רבי מיכל ליפקוביץ ורבי אהרן ליב שטינמן על הספר.
I am enjoying this edition so far and think it is full of very useful information. It has a few parts including an in-depth running commentary of the entire work and a collection of material from other places where the Gaon writes similar ideas. It also includes a photocopy of one of the earlier manuscripts of the work. Just to point out some minor issues with the sefer. It does not say who put it out, I am not sure the point in this modesty it’s well known what the Chida writes about such a practice. In the beginning of the work where he talks about the various editions of the sefer a reference should have been made to Yeshayahu Vinograd’s Otzar Sifrei Hagra where he lists over hundred editions of the letter of the Gra.
Of interest to bibliographers on the subject is what R’ Moshe Sternbuch writes:
ובמשפחתו יש דעה גם שכתבו באידיש ותורגם
He has a few pages about the Gra’s trip to Eretz Yisroel and why he did not end up going. I do not expect him to quote the discussion of Aryeh Morgenstern in his various works such as in The Goan of Vilna and his Messianic Vision. However I would have thought he would quote some of the sources found in Eliach’s Hagaon.
The ‘author’ writes (p. 205):
והנה מפורסם דהגר”א לא לקח יותר מכדי פרנסתו ופרנסת אנשי ביתו, ואדרבה אפילו לבני ביתו  לא היה כל צרכם… כידוע חי הגר”א בדחקות עצומה… (שם, עמ’ קכז)
I am not sure where he gets this from but Shaul Stampfer in his work Families, Rabbis and Education (pp. 327-328) and more recently Eliyah Stern in his work The Genius (pp. 30-31) based on manuscripts printed by Yisroel Klausner and other sources prove that this is not true at all.
Stamfer writes: “The Gaon certainly did not live in poverty… the Gaon did not have the highest income of the individuals on the Vilna community payroll. However his income was near the top and it was several times the salary of minor communal functionaries…”
Another interesting discussion of his is about how the Gra writes about dealing with children:
ועל הקללה ושבועה וכזב תכי אותם במכות אכזריות… (עמ’ קח) שתכי את בנינו מכות אכזריות (עמ’ רכב)
 The last two words are only found in some versions of the manuscripts. The Author collects some sources on this subject of hitting children and even points to the Gra elsewhere which appears to contradict this. In an appendix he quotes at length the opinion of Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky pro such methods. I think he should have included many more sources on such an important topic [I hope to return to this in the future] especially what R’ Wolbe writes in his letters (Igrot Ukesavim, p. 121) against such methods. Another important source he should have quoted is from the Menucha Ukedusha (from a talmid of R’ Chaim Volzhiner, which he quotes elsewhere) who writes that one should certainly not hit children after the age of thirteen (p.136). See here.
One last point related to this edition where the Gra writes about learning tanach
ושילמדו מקדם כל החומש שיהיו רגילים כמעט בעל פה…
The author brings a Teshuvah from R’ Wosner which I do not think is like the Gra at all. The author has an appendix about this, much can be added to this but here to he should have quoted the previously quoted work Menucha Ukedusha.
 
5.
ר’ חיים פאלאג’י, כף החיים, תשמח עמודים, מכון שובי נפשי כולל הערות
6.
ר’ חיים פאלאג’י, תנא דבי אליהו עם פירוש לוח ארז, מכון שובי נפש, תתכו עמודים
7.
מכילתא עם פירוש ברכת הנצי”ב [פורמט קטן], שמא עמודים + פירוש ברכת הנצי”ב על תורת כהנים, מ’ עמודים
8.
דרשות וחידושי רבי אליהו גוטמאכר מגריידיץ על התורה, שמות, שסד עמודים
9.
ר’ חיים סופר, קול סופר, על משניות ג’ חלקים
10.
ר’ יוסף צבי הכהן, קב ונקי על הלכות תפילין, נדפס לראשונה בברדיטשוב תרנ”ח, 20 עמודים
11.
ר’ חיים הירשנזון, מלכי בקודש, חלק שני, בעריכת דוד זוהר, מכון שכטר,
12.
ר’ אריה לוין, משנת אריה, על משניות נזיקין, ב’ חלקים  [כולל מסכת אבות]
13.
גנזים ושו”ת חזון איש, חלק שלישי, שפז עמודים
14.
ר’ חיים פרידלנדר, שפתי חיים, רינת חיים, ביאורי תפילה: ברכות השחר, פסוקי דזמרא, קראית שמע ועוד, שצו עמודים
15.
ר’ אהרן פעלדער, רשומי אהרן, כולל פסקי הלכה מו”ר הרב משה פיינשטיין זצ”ל, מה עמודים+ שאילת אהרן ח”ג, לב עמודים ועוד
16.
תשובות הרב קאפח, נערך ע”י ר’ שלום נגר, חלק א תשל”ד-תשלו, תסז עמודים
17.
תאות דוד בענין כתיבת סת”ם, על הספר הזכרונות לר’ שמואל אבוהב אם ק’ אמירה נעימה, רמ עמודים
18.
ר’ אליהו זייני, בין השמשות דר”ת, וזמן הדלת נרות חנוכה, 110 עמודים
19.
ר’ דוד דבליצקי, ברכות לראש צדיק, כל עניני כוס של ברכה, נט עמודים
20.
ר’ יהושע ברוננער, קונטרס איש על העדה, הליכות והנהגות של רבינו הגרי”ש אלישיב זצוק”ל, נח עמודים
21.
ר’ יהודה שושנה, קונטרס נהג בחכמה, הלכות ומנהגי בית הכנסת הנוהגים בישיבת בית מדרש גבוה לייקוואוד במעגל השנה, כולל הלכות נחוצות לסדר התפלה וקריאת התורה, מנהגי הישבות, מקורות המנהגים, ק’ עמודים
22.
ר’ שמואל אוסטערליץ, ילקוט חלוקא דרבנן עניני לבוש במשנת רבוה”ק מסקווירא, עם ליקוטים יקרים מפי ספרים וספרים, קכב עמודים
23.
אגן הסהר, על רבי אברהם גנחובסקי זצ”ל, 247 עמודים
24.
יום אידם ניטל, ילקוט מקורות אמרות ועובדות, ריב עמודים
25.
בדחנא דמלכא, מתולדותיהם ונועם שיחתם של משמחי הצדיקים, רנא עמודים
26.
ר’ דוד קאהן, האמונה הנאמנה, על יג עקרים של הרמב”ם, 308 עמודים, ארטסקרל
27.
ר’ דוד קאהן, השקפה הנכונה, הערות והארות על הקדמת הרמב”ם לפירוש המשניות, 168 עמודים, ארטסקרל
28.
ר’ דוד קאהן, ממשה עד משה, הערות על יד שרשים של הרמב”ם לספר המצוות והשגות הרמב”ן, 372 עמודים, ארטסקרל
29.
ר’ קלמן קרון, הרחק מעליה דרכך, על האיסור החמור של קריאת ספרי מינות ואפיקורסות וחובת ההתרחקות מהם, [ארבעה שערים], רסא עמודים
30.
ר’ אברהם מנדלבוים, דרשות לבר מצוה, מאות דרשות שנשאו גדלי ישראל לכבוד יום הבר מצוה, ב’ חלקים
31.
קובץ מוריה שבט, ראה שם, מאמר מיוחד מידידי ר’ יעקב ישראל סטל, ‘הוראות והנהגות לרבינו יהודה החסיד’ ונספח: מנהג השלכת עפר ותלישת עשבים בבית הקברות’.
A PDF of this article is available upon request.
32.
קובץ אור ישראל, גליון סו, שפד עמודים
33.
קונטרס כי רחק ממני מנחם, על ר’ בנימין מנחם פלס, קלג עמודים
34.
ר’ ישראל מורגנשטרן, מכירים אלקטרוניים בשבת, קכח עמודים
35.
ר’ מרדכי טנדלר, מסורת משה, הוראות והנהגות שנשמעו מאת רבן של כל בני הגולה ופוסק הדור הגאון האדיר רבי משה פיינשטיין זצוק”ל, תרכא עמודים.
Of course there is much to say about such a sefer as it’s full of hundreds upon hundreds of pesakim. It appears to be the first of a few volumes. The haskamah of R’ Dovid Cohen is nice where he writes
ספר זה נדיר הוא ככמעט מיוחד במינו, אע”פ שמצינו יומן מהגאון האדר”ת זצ”ל, וגם אוטו-ביגרפיה (שיש מערערים אם הו מזויף מתוכו) של הגאון רב יעקב עמדין זצ”ל במסורת משה נמצאים חידושים נפלאים להלכה וגם מצר מתוכו כו”כ השקפות של מרן זצ”ל… ומודה להם על התענוג הרוחני שהרגשתי שקשה לתאר הטעם להזולת ורק יכולים לומר לו טעם וראה…
Just to point out a few things of interest: he has a lengthy piece where Rav Moshe said a certain piece in the Ramban’s work on chumash has additions not from him, that are kefirah [Korach, 17:6] (pp. 522-523), another piece of Rav Moshe about the manuscript of R’ Yehudah Hachassid Al Hatorah (p. 552), that R’ Reuven Margolis came to hear Rav Moshe Say a shiur in Yerushlayim (p. 501). Anyone reading this work is sure to find many more things of great interest.
ספרים על פורים
36.
ר’ יוסף ניזר, פורים סראגוסא, בהלכה ואגדה, 77 עמודים
This work is well done and collects a nice amount of material on Purim of Saragossa. Just to add two important sources on this subject not quoted in this work, most likely because they do not know English, Elliot Horowitz, Reckless Rites, pp. 279-286 and Yosef Yerushalmi, Zakhor, pp. 46-48.
37.
ר’ רחמים טוויג, המאיר לארץ, חקירות ומערכות בעניני מחיית עמלק, תסג עמודים
38.
ר’ יהודה זולדן, מגילה במוקפות חומה, מקרא מגילה בערים מוקופות חמה מימות יהושע בן נון, 470 עמודים [יסוד של הספר הוא עבודה לשם קבלת תואר שלישי מהמחלקה לתלמוד באוניברסיטת בר אילן]
39.
ר’ עמרם טיגרמן, מחייב איניש לבסומי בפוריא, ליקוט ובירור דעת הפוסקים בדין זה, ובענין חמר מדינה בזמנינו ומיץ ענבים לארבע כוסות,שיא עמודים
40.
ר’ יוסף יונה, ספר מיני מעדנים, בירורי הלכה במצות משלוח מנות, קעה עמודים מחקר ועוד
1.
שלום יהלום, בין גירודנה לנרבונה, אבני בנייין ליצירת הרמב”ן, יצחק בן צבי, 414 עמודים [מצוין]
2.
משנת ארץ ישראל, שמואל וזאב ספראי, מסכת כתובות, ב’ חלקים, 677 עמודים
3.
חיים גרטנר, הרב והעיר הגדולה, הרבנות בגליציה ומפגשה עם המודרנה 1815-1867, מרכז זלמן שזר, 448 עמודים [ספר מצוין]
4.
בד”ד 27 הוצאת בר אילן
5.
רון קליינמן, דרכי קנין ומנהגי מסחר במשפט העברי, הוצאת בר אילן
6.
יהושע פישל שניאורסון, חיים גראביצר סיפרו של נופל, ידעות ספרים 583 עמודים
After being out of print for years this classic is back in print.
7.
קתרסיס, גילון 18 כולל מאמר ביקורות של ר’ שלמה זלמן הבלין על בנימין בראון ‘החזון איש’ [61 עמודים!]
A PDF of this article is available upon request.
English
 
The Challenge of Received Tradition: Dilemmas of Interpretation in Radak’s Biblical Commentaries, by Naomi Grunhaus, Oxford University Press, 2012. Dialogue, volume 3
Rabbi Chaim Rapoport, The Afterlife of Scholarship, A critical review of The Life and Afterlife of Menachem Mendel Schneerson Samuel Heilman and Menachem Friedman



Talmudic Humor and Its Discontents

Talmudic Humor and Its Discontents
by Ezra Brand
In honor of Purim, I’d like to discuss a few aspects of humor in the Talmud[1]. But first, a short overview of topic of Jewish humor in general.
A lot has been written about Jewish humor[2]. A very good overview of Jewish humor, in general, is that of Avner Ziv in the second edition of Encyclopedia Judaica, under the entry “Humor”[3]. However, most of the piece is about Jewish humor from the eighteenth century and on, with only a little bit at the beginning about humor in Tanach, the Talmud, and the time of the Rishonim. He writes a fascinating few lines in the beginning of the entry:
What is generally identified in the professional literature as Jewish humor originated in the 19th century, mainly, but not
exclusively, in Eastern Europe. Today in the U.S., Jewish humor is considered as one of the mainstreams of American humor.
At the beginning of the 19th century, sense of humor was not associated with Jewishness. Herman Adler, the chief rabbi of
London, felt impelled to write an article in 1893 in which he argued against the view that Jews have no sense of humor. It is perhaps interesting to note that not only Jews but non-Jews as well consider today “a good sense of humor” as one of the noble characteristics of Jews.
Even H.N. Bialik had a similar sentiment about the lack of humor in earlier Jewish sources[4]:
“To our great distress, there is very little humor in our literature. It is hard to find five continuous lines in Tanach with humor.” The above-mentioned Avner Ziv writes elsewhere: “Even in the Talmud there appear references (though few) to humor, but in total there is not a “treasury” of humor […] not until the end of the 19th century did there appear anything but a few references to Jewish humor.”
However, David Lifshitz begs to differ. In 1995, he wrote an entire doctorate on the topic of humor in the  Talmud[5]. He wasn’t the first to collect pieces of humor from the Gemara. Israel Davidson collected humorous pieces from throughout Jewish literature in chronological order, starting from Tanach and ending with Modern Hebrew literature[6].
A few articles discuss different aspects of humor in the Talmud, and there are some seforim that collect humorous pieces from the Gemara[7].  However, by far the most comprehensive discussion is that of Horowitz.
As mentioned, Lifshitz wrote an entire dissertation on the topic, running to 312 pages. He writes that the view that there isn’t a substantial amount of humor in earlier sources is mistaken. He feels that this mistake stems from the fact that there has been little research done on the subject of humor in the Gemara, which in turn stems from the fact that humor is looked at as lowly “leitzanus.” Therefore, the great amount of humor in the Gemara was ignored.
Critical Humor
One specific aspect of humor in the Gemara is critical humor[8]. Although not necessarily the best example of humor in the Gemara, this genre of humor caused some uncomfortableness[9], which I will also discuss.
Here are some Gemaras where critical humor is used, taken at random. (Translations are from Soncino, with slight changes[10].)
1  Kiddushin 79b[11]:
R’ Yosef son of R’ Menasia of Davil gave a practical ruling in accordance with Rav, whereupon Shmuel was offended and exclaimed, “For everyone [wisdom] is meted out in small measure, but for this scholar it was meted out in large measure!”
2) Yoma 76a[12]:
And it long ago happened that R’ Tarfon, R’ Yishmael and the elders were seated and occupied with the portion referring to the manna, and also R’ Eleazar of Modi’in commenced [to expound] and said: “The manna which came down unto Israel was sixty cubits high.” R’ Tarfon said to him: “Modite! How long will you rake words together to bring them up against us?” –He answered: “My master! I am expounding a Scriptural verse.”
Beitza 24a[13]:
3
R’ Yosef said in the name of R’ Yehuda in the name of Shmuel: “The halacha is as Rabban Shimon ben Gamaliel”. Abbaye said to him: “The halacha is [etc.], from which it would follow that they [the Sages] dispute it!” –He said to him: “What practical difference does it make to you?” –He replied to him: “It should be for you as a song” [Rashi: “This is a parable of fools […] ‘Study!’ the student says to the fool: learn both truth and mistakes, and it will be for you as a song!”].
A famous responsum of the Chavos Yair, R’ Yair Chaim Bachrach, discusses the harsh language sometimes used by one Amora against another[14]. This tshuva was made famous by the Chafetz Chaim, who printed it at the beginning of his Chafetz Chaim.[15] The Chavos Yair is at great pains to show how each “insult” is in fact a subtle compliment. For example, he says that when R’ Sheshes says, as he often does, on a saying of Rav, “I say, Rav said this statement when he was sleeping,” that this is fact a display of R’ Sheshes’ great respect for Rav that he never could haved erred so easily. A more difficult kind of attack to explain is the “ad
hominem” attack, where one Amora attacks another Amora personally.
Interestingly, some want to say that these kinds of attacks are much more frequent in the Bavli than in the Yerushalmi. In a Hebrew article by Yisrael Ben-Shalom, “ואקח לי שני מקלות לאחד קראתי נעם ולאחד קראתי חבלים”[16], the author shows many instances of negative criticism by Chachamim in the Bavli that don’t appear in their parallels in the Yerushalmi. Recently, R’ Achikam Kashet has drawn up a long list of 82 basic differences between the Bavli and the Yerushalmi in his very impressive אמרי במערבא (n.p. 2010). This difference is number 53 (page 889)[17].
Later, the Ra’avad was one of the more harsh attackers. When he disagreed, he did so in very strong terms. In general, he was most harsh in his hassagos on the Razah. The following is one of the harsher attacks[18]:
הנה שם השם שקר בפיו וזאת עדות על כל שקריו ופחיזותיו אשר אסף רוח בחנפיו להנבא שקרים ולהתעות הפתיים והסכלים בעדיי אחרים אשר נתעטר בהם ספרי הסירוס אשר חיבר.
Closer to our own time, R’ Yitzchak Isaac Halevy, author of Dorot Harishonim, is famous for his harsh language he used against people he disagreed with. While in his magnum opus, Dorot Harishonim, this language is generally used against maskilim and non-Jews, his harshness was not limited to them. R’ Halevy’s biographer notes[19]:
While Halevy had his reasons which led him almost singlehandedly into battle against the foremost historians, he, in turn, became the target of a formidable list of critics […] Undoubtedly, Halevy’s sharp pen was an added factor that irked many to retaliate in kind. Halevy’s inordinate style of writing might have been a carryover from a number of classic rabbinical works […] Thus Halevy’s correspondence relating to his own followers at times was penned in a tone which was similar to that reserved for the targets of his ire in the Dorot Harishonim.
After discussing many sources in Chazal of negativity, Efrayim Elimelech Urbach writes that although in the Beis Medrash the Chachamim could be very harsh with each other, in the “real world” a big stress was put on talmidei chachamim looking out for each other, and on the respect that a talmid chacham deserves.[20]It seems clear that although internally there were strong disagreements, towards the outside, there was strong cohesiveness, and the less disagreement and strife exhibited in public, the better[21].  In other words, what goes on the Beis Midrash, stays in the Beis Midrash! In our own time, one of the controversial passages in R’ Natan Kamenetski’s Making of A Godol was the story of R’ Aharon Kotler calling a red-headed student who interrupted his shiur with a question “parah adumah.” Marc Shapiro, in one
of his recent posts
(paragraph 3), makes the same point: that certain off the cuff remarks were never meant to be publicized.
To end off on a
not-so-Purim-like note, I’d like to note a word of caution. In our own time, where recording devices are ubiquitous, talmidei chachamim must be far more careful about what they say and how they say it. Even if a talmid chacham says something in a setting where it is perfectly acceptable, such as in a “Beis Medrash”-like setting, with a recorder the statement can easily be spread outside these “walls.” We have reached a point where עין רואה ואזן שומעת, וכל מעשיך בספר נכתבין (Avos 2:1) is not
just true in Shamayim, but on Earth also.
[1] In a previous post on the Seforim Blog, Eliezer Brodt discussed some parodies from medieval times and on. Another previous
post
discussed some modern Purim parodies. Some of my favorite modern parodies are those by Moshe Koppel, a Professor of Computer Science in Bar-Ilan University, who has contributed to the Seforim Blog. Professor Kopple has produced a number of parodies of “pashkevillim.” (“Pashkevillim”—“broadsides” in English—are large notices stuck on walls in Chareidi neighborhoods,
especially in Meah Shearim. They are often polemical, and written in a flowery
Hebrew.) (For a review of the Valmadonna’s collection of broadsides see here). A sampling of these parodies, as well as an interview with Koppel, can be seen here. A parody of his about fundamentalist anti-science is a favorite of R’ Natan Slifkin.
[2] See the bibliography in Eli Yassif, The Hebrew Folktale, Bloomington 1999,  pg. 500 n. 96; see also the bibliography of the Encyclopedia Judaica article in the next footnote.
[3] Volume 9, pg. 590-599. It first appeared in the 1986-1987 Yearbook, one of the many yearbooks that were published as a supplement to the first edition of Encyclopedia Judaica.  I remember reading that the reason that there wasn’t an entry on “Humor” in the first edition of the Encyclopedia is because the editors couldn’t find someone someone qualified to write it. I could not find the source for this recently.
[4] ח”נ ביאליק, דברים שבעל פה, ספר ראשון, דביר, תל אביב תרצ”ה, עמ’ קמד. This quote and the next are taken from Lifshitz, Humor (see next footnote), pg. 11.
[5] דוד ליפשיץ, איפיונו ותיפקודו שההומור בתלמוד, חיבור לשם קבלת התואר דוקטור לפילוסופיה, רמת גן תשנ”ה. I have not read enough of the doctorate to get a feel for how good of a job he did. One major lack in this work is an index, especially since such a large amount of texts from the Talmud are quoted.  It is often difficult to find where a source is discussed.
[6] אפרים דוידזון, שחוק פינו, חולון תשל”ב. The layout is very similar to that of Bialik’s “Sefer Ha’agadah,” which Davidson was clearly influenced by. Many translations of passages from Aramaic to Hebrew are taken from Sefer Ha’agadah (with ascription).
[7] See, for example, בנימין יוסף פארקאש, עת לשחוק, הוסיאטין תרע”ד.
[8] These sources in the Gemara are brought by Lifshitz, Humor, pg. 158-183. See also a wide variety of sources in this vein which are brought and discussed by E.E Urbach in his Sages (Hebrew ed.), pg. 557- 564.
[9] R’ Yitzchak
Blau, at the beginning of a lecture entitled “Does the Talmud have a Sense of
Humor?” (available on YU Torah) only
mentions the following categories “play on words”; “slapstick”; “sharp lines”.
He does not mention critical humor, even though it is fairly common in the
Gemara, for obvious reasons. As an aside most of the lecture is not about the
Talmud and humor, but how someone should spend his free time. R’ Blau’s opinion
on the matter has caused some controversy, see Hirhurim blog here
and here.
[10] The Soncino translation is now available in the public domain, see Torah Musings blog here.
[11] Lifshitz, Humor, pg. 160.
[12] Lifshitz, Humor, pg. 165
[13] Lifshitz, Humor, pg. 172.
[14] Siman 152.
[15] In later editions of Chafetz Chaim, this addition is generally printed at the end.
[16] In דור לדור: משלהי תקופת
המקרא ועד חתימית התלמוד, ירושלים תשנ”ה, עמ’ 235-250.
[17] R’ Kashet made a similar list of basic characteristics (in Hebrew “לשיטתם”), this time with specific Tannaim and Amoraim, in his earlier, \just as impressive, קובץ יסודות וחקירות (Yerushalayim 2004). The issue of “Leshitasam” is a fascinating topic in its own right. Research into this topic only began in the mid-eighteenth century, especially with the publishing of R’ D.Z. Hoffman’s (German) Mar Samuel. This sefer/book caused a small storm \in its time.
[18] Quoted by
Twersky, Rabad of Posquierres, Cambridge 1962, pg. 121 n. 24. See
Twersky there for more such examples. For a list of hassagos of this sort in
the Ra’avad’s hassagos on Mishneh Torah, see Davidson, Moses Maimonides: The
Man and His Works,
Oxford 2005, in the chapter on Mishneh Torah.
[19] R’ Asher
Reichel, Isaac Halevy, New York 1969, pg. 64-65.
[20] Pg. 564
(idem, footnote 10).
[21] The Gemara
itself seems to say so explicitly. See the story in Sanhedrin 31a, where the
Gemara first brings a halacha regarding a member of a beis din that has just paskened:
תנו רבנן מניין לכשיצא לא יאמר הריני מזכה וחבירי מחייבין אבל מה אעשה שחבירי רבו עלי תלמוד לומר (ויקרא יט, טז) לא תלך רכיל בעמך ואומר (משלי יא, יג) הולך רכיל מגלה סוד
The Gemara then goes on to bring the following story:
ההוא תלמידא דנפיק עליה קלא דגלי מילתא דאיתמר בי מדרשא בתר עשרין ותרתין שנין אפקיה רב אמי מבי מדרשא אמר דין גלי רזיא:
It is not clear what the nature of the “secret” thing that had happened in the beis medrash was. Rashi simply says that the talmid
spoke lashon hara. It is possible that in the heated discussion in the beis medrash, someone had made an off the cuff remark that was not meant to be heard outside the walls of the beis medrash. When the talmid revealed what was said 22(!) years later, he was expelled from the beis medrash for his impropriety. Alternatively, it is possible that he had revealed some internal disagreement about a halacha that the Chachamim wanted to appear unanimous, similar to the case of the psak of a beis din brought before. Either way, the story proves our point.



Identifying Achashverosh and Esther in Secular Sources

Identifying Achashverosh and Esther in Secular Sources 
By Mitchell First 

This article is a summary of a longer article which will appear in his forthcoming book Esther Unmasked: Solving Eleven Mysteries of the Jewish Holidays and Liturgy (Kodesh Press), pp. 129-167.

     In this article, we will explain how scholars were finally able to identify Achashverosh in secular sources. We will also show that Esther can be identified in secular sources as well. Finally, we will utilize these sources to shed light on the story of the Megillah.Before we get to these sources, we have to point out that an important clue to the identity of Achashverosh is found in the book of Ezra.
Achashverosh is mentioned at Ezra 4:6 in the context of other Persian kings. The simplest understanding of Ezra 4:6 and its surrounding verses is that Achashverosh is the Persian king who reigned after the Daryavesh who rebuilt the Temple,[1] but before Artachshasta. But what about the secular sources? Was there any Persian king known as Achashverosh or something close to that in these sources?

     Until the 19th century, a search in secular sources for a Persian king named Achashverosh or something close to that would have been an unsuccessful one. Our knowledge of the Persian kings from the Biblical period was coming entirely from the writings of Greek historians, and none of the names that they recorded were close to Achashverosh. The Greek historians (Herodotus, mid-5th cent. BCE, and the others who came after him) described the following Persian kings from the Biblical period: Cyrus, Cambyses, Darius, Xerxes, and Artaxerxes.
    We were thus left to speculate as to the identity of Achashverosh. Was he to be equated with Artaxerxes? This was the position taken by the Septuagint to Esther. Was he to be equated with Cambyses? Or was he, as Ezra 4:6 and its surrounding verses implied, the king between Daryavesh (=Darius I) and Artachshasta (=Artaxerxes I). But why did the Greeks refer to him as Xerxes, a name at first glance seeming to have no relation to the name Achashverosh?
    It was only in the 19th century, as a result of the decipherment of Old Persian cuneiform inscriptions from the ancient Persian palaces, that we were able to answer these questions. It was discovered that the name of the king that the Greeks had been referring to as “Xerxes” was in fact: “Khshayarsha” (written in Old Persian cuneiform). This name is very close to the Hebrew “Achashverosh.” In their consonantal structure, the two names are identical. Both center on the consonantal sounds “ch”, “sh”, “r”, and “sh.” The Hebrew added an initial aleph[2] (a frequent occurrence when foreign words with two initial consonants are recorded in Hebrew), and added two vavs. Interestingly, the Megillah spells Achashverosh several times with only one vav, and one time (10:1) spells the name with no vavs.
     Thereafter, at the beginning of the 20th century, Aramaic documents from Egypt from the 5th century B.C.E. came to light. In these documents, this king’s name was spelled in Aramaic as חשירש, חשיארש and אחשירש. The closeness to the Hebrew אחשורוש is easily seen.
     How did Khshayarsha (consonants: KH, SH, R, SH) come to be referred to by the Greeks as Xerxes?
  • The Greek language does not have a letter to represent the “sh” sound.
  • The initial “KH SH” sounds of the Persian name were collapsed into one Greek letter that makes the “KS” sound. A tendency to parallelism probably led to the second “SH” also becoming “KS,” even though “S” would have been more appropriate.[3] Hence, the consonants became KS, R, KS (=X,R,X).
  • The “es” at the end was just something added by the Greeks to help turn the foreign name into proper Greek grammatical form.[4]
    (It was for this same reason that the Hebrew משה  became “Moses” when the Bible was translated into Greek.)

 

  Identifying Khshayarsha/Xerxes with Achashverosh thus makes much sense on linguistic grounds. Critically, it is consistent with Ezra 4:6 which had implied that Achashverosh was the king between Daryavesh (=Darius I) and Artachshasta (=Artaxerxes I).[5]
    We have an inscription from Khshayarsha in Persian which lists the countries over which he ruled. Among the countries listed are “Hidush” and “Kushiya,” most likely the Hodu and Kush of the Megillah.[6]
    Now that we have identified Achashverosh in secular sources, we can use these sources to provide some biographical information. Xerxes reigned from 486-465 BCE, when the Temple was already rebuilt. It was rebuilt in the reign of his father Darius I in 516 BCE. According to Herodotus, Xerxes was the son of Darius by Atossa, daughter of Cyrus. Xerxes was also the first son born to Darius after Darius became king. These factors distinguished him from his older half-brother Artabazanes, and merited Xerxes being chosen to succeed Darius. At his accession in 486 BCE, Xerxes could not have been more than 36 years old (since he was born after the accession of Darius in 522 BCE).
    The party in which Vashti rebelled took place in the third year of the reign of Achashverosh (1:3), and Esther was not chosen until the 7th year (2:16). Why did it take Achashverosh so long to choose a replacement? It has been suggested that Xerxes was distracted by his foreign policy. In the early years of his reign, Xerxes ordered a full-scale invasion of Greece. Xerxes went on the invasion himself, which took him out of Persia commencing in the spring or summer of his 5th year and continuing through part of his 7th year.[7] This invasion ended in defeat.
     From the secular sources and a solar eclipse that took place in the battles, it can be calculated that Xerxes did not return to Susa until
the fall of 479 B.C.E.[8] Tevet of Achashverosh’s 7th year, when Esther was chosen, would have been Dec. 479/Jan. 478 B.C.E. Accordingly, Esther was taken to the palace shortly after Xerxes’ return.
    Do we have any evidence in secular sources for the main plot of the Purim story, the threat to destroy the Jews in the 12th year (3:7)? We do not, but this is to be expected. No works from any Persian historians from this period have survived. (Probably, no such works were ever composed.) Our main source for the events of the reign of Xerxes is Herodotus and his narrative ends in the 7th year of Xerxes.[9]
    Interestingly, there is perhaps a reference to Mordechai in a later narrative source. The Greek historian Ctesias,[10] who served as a physician to Artaxerxes II, mentions a “Matacas” who was the most influential of all of Xerxes’ eunuchs. (Probably, “eunuch” was merely a
term used to indicate a holder of a high position in the king’s court.) “Matacas” suggests a Persian name with the consonants MTC, which would be very close to the consonants of the name Mordechai, MRDC.[11]  The information provided by Ctesias bears a significant resemblance to the last verse in the Megillah, which records that by the end of the story, Mordechai was mishneh (=second) to the king.[12]
(Perhaps we do not have to take mishneh literally; the import may merely be “very high official.”)
    Most interesting is what happens when we analyze the secular sources regarding the wife of Xerxes. According to Herodotus, the wife of Xerxes was named Amestris, and she was the daughter of a military commander named Otanes. (In the Megillah, Esther is described as the daughter of Avichail.) Ctesias records that Amestris outlived Xerxes. Moreover, in the further details that Ctesias provides, Amestris is involved in royal affairs even in the reign of her son Artaxerxes.[13] Neither Herodotus nor Ctesias use a term like “queen” for her, but their description of Amestris fits what we would call today the “queen.” Neither gives any indication that Xerxes had any other wife.
    Some postulate that Amestris is Vashti. But this is extremely unlikely since there is nothing in Herodotus or Ctesias to indicate any loss of
status by Amestris. Others postulate (based on verses such as Est. 2:19 and 4:11[14]) that Esther was never the main   wife of Xerxes, but was one of other wives of a lesser status. See, e.g., Chamesh Megillot, Daat Mikra edition (published by Mossad Harav Kook), introduction to Esther, p. 6. The problem with this approach is that the clear impression that one receives from the Megillah is that Esther was the Persian wife of the highest status from the time she was chosen in the 7th year of the reign of Achashverosh through the balance of the years described in the book. See, e.g., verse 2:17 (va-yasem keter malkhut be-roshah va-yamlikheha tachat Vashti).
    The approach that seems to have the least difficulties is to postulate that Amestris is  Esther and that Herodotus simply erred regarding her ancestry. Although Herodotus traveled widely in the 460’s and 450’s B.C.E., he probably never set foot in Persia. His information about Persia is based on what was told to him orally. Every scholar knows that he could not possibly be correct on a large percentage of the details he reports (whether about Persia or any matter). Also, the impression that one receives from the Megillah is that Esther did not disclose her true ancestry for several years. Whatever rumors about her ancestry first came out may be what made their way to Herodotus.[15]
    It is striking that the name Avichayil means military commander.[16] It is not so farfetched to suggest that Avichayil might have had another name which resembled the name Otanes.  The Megillah tells us that Esther had another name, Hadassah.
   Herodotus tells a story depicting the cruelty of Amestris. Amestris takes revenge on another woman by cutting off her body parts and throwing them to the dogs. Ctesias writes that Amestris ordered someone impaled, and had fifty Greeks decapitated. But scholars today know not to believe all the tales told by the Greek historians about their enemies, the Persians. (Herodotus, known as the “Father of History,” is also known as the “Father of Lies.” The reputation of Ctesias as a historian is far worse; he is widely viewed as freely mixing fact and fiction.)
    Although he never says it explicitly, one gets the impression from Herodotus that he believed that Amestris was the wife of Xerxes even in the first seven years of Xerxes’ reign. But it would be understandable that Herodotus might have had such a belief. According to the Megillah, Vashti was gone by the third year of Xerxes. Xerxes reigned 18 years after that. To Herodotus and his informants, Vashti may have been long forgotten.
    We have no Persian sources for the name of the wife of Khshayarsha. But close examination of the name “Amestris” supports its identification with Esther. The “is” at the end was just a suffix added to turn the foreign name into proper Greek grammatical form (just as “es” was added at the end of “Xerxes”). When comparing the remaining consonants, the name of the wife of Xerxes is recorded in the Greek historians as based around the consonants M, S, T, and R, and the name as recorded in the Megillah is based around the consonants S, T, and R. Out of the numerous possible consonants in these languages, three consonants are the same and in the same order! Probability suggests that this is not coincidence and that the two are the same person. Probably her Persian name was composed of the consonants M, S, T, and R, and the M was not preserved in the Hebrew. (One source in Orthodoxy that has suggested the identification of Esther with Amestris, without any discussion, is Trei Asar, Daat Mikra edition, published by Mossad Harav Kook, vol. 2, appendix, p. 3.)

—-   
    Once we realize that Achashverosh is Xerxes, it becomes evident that the asher haglah  of Esther 2:6 cannot be referring to Mordechai. King Yechanyah was exiled in 597 B.C.E. If Mordechai was old enough to have been exiled with King Yechanyah, he would have been over 120 years old when appointed to a high position in the 12th year of Xerxes. Moreover, Esther, his first cousin, would not have been young enough to have been chosen queen a few years earlier. One alternative is to understand verse 2:6 as referring to Mordechai’s great-grandfather Kish.[17] Another alternative is to view the subject of 2:6 as Mordechai, but to read the verse as implying only that Mordechai came from a family that had been exiled.
                                                                     —-
   The identification of Achashverosh with Xerxes does not fit with the view of the Talmud. According to the Talmud (Megillah 11b, based on Seder Olam chap. 29), Achashverosh reigned between Koresh and Daryavesh. In this view, the Temple had not yet been rebuilt at the time of the events of the Megillah. (In the view of Seder Olam and the Talmud, the Persian period spanned the reigns of only three Persian kings. This is much shorter than the conventional chronology. The conventional chronology is set forth in the Table below. For more information about this discrepancy, see my Jewish History in Conflict: A Study of the Major Discrepancy Between Rabbinic and Chronology, Jason Aronson, 1997).
    That the king intended to be depicted in the Megillah was Khshayarsha/Xerxes is accepted by legions of scholars today, even if they question the historicity of the story. Within Orthodoxy, some sources that accept the identification of Achashverosh with Xerxes include: Chamesh Megillot (Daat Mikra edition), R. Isaac Halevy,[18] R. Shelomoh Danziger,[19] R. Avigdor Miller,[20] R. Adin Steinsaltz,[21] R. Yoel Bin-Nun,[22]  R. Yehuda Landy,[23] and R. Menachem Liebtag.[24]
    The Megillah (10:2) implied that we could search outside the Bible for additional information regarding Achashverosh. I trust that this
search has proven an interesting one!
                                                             ——
     Table: The
main Persian kings from this era and their dates (B.C.E.):
Cyrus              539-530
Cambyses [25]   530-522
Darius I         522-486
Xerxes           486-465
Artaxerxes I  465-424[26]
Darius II        423-404
Artaxerxes II 404-358
Artaxerxes III 358-338
Arses             338-336
Darius III      336-332
Mitchell First works as an attorney in Manhattan and lives in New Jersey, and is available to lecture on this topic. He can be reached at MFirstatty@aol.com
[1]
Admittedly, this is an oversimplification, since the Daryavesh who rebuilt the
Temple is mentioned both at Ezra 4:5 and at Ezra 4:24.  See further below, n. 5.
[2]
Both the Elamite and the Akkadian versions of the name Khshayarsha also had an
initial vowel. In Elamite,“i”, and in Akkadian, “a”. See Edwin M. Yamauchi, Persia
and the Bible
(1990), p. 187.
The name of the king is found in Aramaic in
the panels of the Dura-Europos synagogue (3rd century C.E., Syria)
without the initial aleph.
[3]
That the transmission of foreign names is by no means an exact science is shown
by how the name of  the son of Xerxes
was recorded by the Greeks. The Greeks preserved the “Arta” of the first part
of his name, Artakhshaça, but then just tacked on “xerxes,” the name of his
father, as the second part of his name!
[4]
I.e., convert it into the nominative case.
[5] With regard to verse 4:24, the proper understanding of
this verse is as follows. The author of the book of Ezra decided to digress,
and to supplement the reference to accusations made against the Jews in the
reigns of Koresh through Daryavesh with mention of further accusations against
them in the reigns of the subsequent kings, Achashverosh (Xerxes) and
Artachshasta (Artaxerxes I). Verse 4:24 then returns to the main narrative, the
reign of Daryavesh. The role played by verse 4:24 is that of “resumptive
repetition.” This is the interpretation adopted by the Daat Mikra
commentary to Ezra (pp. 27 and 35) and by many modern scholars. See the
references at Richard Steiner, “Bishlam’s Archival Search Report in Nehemiah’s
Archive: Multiple Introductions and Reverse Chronological Order as Clues to the
Origin of the Aramaic Letters in Ezra 4-6,” Journal of Biblical Literature
125 (2006), p. 674, n. 164. This understanding of verse 24 only became evident
in modern times when it was realized that linguistically Achashverosh was to be
identified with Xerxes.
[6]
Roland G. Kent, Old Persian: Grammar, Texts, Lexicon, p. 151 (2d ed.,
1953).
[7]
Many find allusions in the Megillah to the preparation for the invasion and to
the invasion. See, e.g., Esther 1:3 and 10:2.
[8]
See, e.g., William H. Shea, “Esther and History,” Andrews University
Seminary Studies
14 (1976), p. 239. In the Persian system of regnal reckoning,
485 BCE was considered year 1 of Xerxes. 486 B.C.E. was only the accession
year.
[9]
See Pierre Briant, From Cyrus to Alexander (2002), pp. 7 and 516. In his
narrative of events up to the 7th year, Herodotus does make some
tangential references to events after the 7th year. For example, he
refers to Artaxerxes a few times, and he tells a story about something that
Amestris did in her later years. (She had fourteen children of noble Persians
buried alive, as a gift on her behalf to the god of the underworld.) Later ancient sources write about the
assassination of Xerxes.
[10] The Persica of Ctesias only survives in quotations or summaries by others. For this
particular section of Ctesias, what has survived is a summary by Photius (9th cent.)
[11]
Another version of Photius reads “Natacas” here. But this difference is not so significant.
“N” and “M” are related consonants, both being nasal stops; it is not uncommon
for one to transform into the other.
[12]
See also Est. 9:4.
[13]
This means that Artaxerxes I (who empowered Ezra, and later Nechemiah) was
technically Jewish!
[14]
Est. 2:19 refers to a second gathering of maidens, after Esther was
chosen. Est. 4:11 records that Esther had not been called to the king for 30
days.
[15]
It is sometimes claimed that Esther could not have been the wife of Xerxes
because Herodotus (3,84) tells of an agreement between Darius I and his six
co-conspirators that the Persian king would not marry outside their families.
One of the co-conspirators was named Otanes. But Herodotus nowhere states that
the Otanes who was the father of Amestris was the co-conspirator Otanes. Briant
writes that if Amestris had been the daughter of co-conspirator Otanes,
Herodotus would doubtless have pointed this out. See Briant, p. 135. Therefore,
implicit in Herodotus is that Xerxes married outside the seven families.
[16]
I would like to thank Rabbi Richard Wolpoe who first made this observation to me.
[17]
That the name Mordechai may be based on the name of the Babylonian deity Marduk
also suggests that Mordechai was born in exile.
[18]
Dorot ha-Rishonim: Tekufat ha-Mikra (1939), p. 262.
[19]
“Who Was the Real Akhashverosh?,” Jewish Observer, Feb. 1973, pp. 12-15.
[20]
Torah Nation (1971), pp. 40 and 42.
[21]
Talmud Bavli, Taanit-Megillah, p. 47, ha-Hayyim, and p. 50, ha-Hayyim.    .
[22]
Hadassah Hi Esther (1997), p. 49, n. 8. (This work is a collection of
articles by various authors.)
[23] Purim
and the Persian Empire
(2010), pp. 40-42.
[24]
For additional sources in Orthodoxy that accept the identification of
Achashverosh with Xerxes, see Jewish History in Conflict, pp. 178-79.
[25]
Cambyses’ name was discovered to be “Kabujiya” in Persian. His name is recorded
as כנבוזי in Aramaic documents from Egypt from the 5th
cent. B.C.E. He did not reign enough years to be Achashverosh. Nor did he reign
over Hodu. See Jewish History in Conflict, p. 167. Although he is not
mentioned in Tanakh, his reign is alluded to at Ezra 4:5 (in the word ve-ad).
[26]
Another king named Xerxes reigned 45 days after the death of his father
Artaxerxes I.



The Kabbalah of Relation by Rabbi Bezalel Naor book review

Book Review[1]
by Dovid Sears
Bezalel Naor, The Kabbalah of Relation (Spring Valley, NY: Orot, 2012)

Before discussing Rabbi Naor’s new book, I must say that anything with his name on the cover should be of interest to any explorer of Jewish mystical tradition. Despite some twenty first-rate scholarly works in English and Hebrew, Bezalel Naor remains a “hidden light,” perhaps too brilliant for many to gaze upon directly. He is one of the leading intellectuals in the traditional world of Jewish scholarship—as he would be in the academic world if, by the grace of God, we would be spared the ravages of intellectual climate change and the wind would shift. Bezalel Naor once described himself as a “frequent flyer of the corpus callosum connecting the left and right hemispheres of the brain.”

This work, jam-packed with creative thinking and the vast erudition we have come to expect from the author, deals with the male-female relationship from the standpoint of the Aggadah and Kabbalah, at the level of plain-meaning and at various levels of mystical allusion.

The departure point for the book is an oft-cited yet curious passage in the Babylonian Talmud (Eruvin 100b) which says that had the Torah not been given on Mount Sinai, then we would have learned various positive character traits from the animal kingdom. The most famous example given is that we would have learned modesty from the example of the cat. Surprisingly, most of the Talmud’s attention is lavished on the rooster, from whom a husband would learn that he must appease his wife before entering into marital relations with her. From the Talmud’s telling of the story, it turns out that the rooster lies to the hen, promising to buy her a coat (or in another reading, earrings) that he is no position financially to purchase! According to Naor, this “white lie” is the very secret of our finite, paradoxical existence in this world, and he then takes us, the readers, on a tour de force, as only he is capable, of our entire Judaic literature: Bible, Talmud, Medieval Philosophy, Kabbalah, Hasidism—and of course, the specialty of the house: Rav Kook.

Q. The book begins with an autobiographical description of Chagall’s youthful meeting (yehidut) with the Rebbe of Lubavitch, Rabbi Shalom Baer (Rashab). This raises the question of the artist’s connection to the teachings of Habad and the Hasidic world of his youth. Beyond this, one wonders about other encounters the Habad Rebbeim may have had with Jewish artists, for better or worse. Any thoughts?

DS: Marc Chagall is widely-embraced as the outstanding Jewish artist of the 20th century, who embraced his shtetl roots in his colorful, expressionistic and often surrealistic paintings. Many Jewish artists, both secular and religious, have used Chagall as a point of departure for their own brand of Jewish art. But actually the autobiographical vignette presented at the beginning of the book, which is patently insulting to the towering Hasidic thinker and tsaddik, Rabbi Shalom Dov Ber of Lubavitch (RaSHaB). is an eloquent testimony to Chagall’s chutzpah and am ha’aratzus (ignorance). Although he grew up in a traditional Hasidic environment in the village of Lyozno, famed for having once been the home of the “Alter Rebbe” (Rabbi Shneur Zalman, founder of Habad), he didn’t seem to know a line of Tanya or Likkutei Torah—despite his fond memory of his mother’s Habad niggun (melody). Religiously, he was a pathetic figure.
As for the Rebbes and artists, I remember reading that one of the Kotzker Rebbe’s descendants was a painter. Nothing to do with Habad, though. I don’t know about earlier Rebbes in the Habad lineage, but this last Lubavitcher Rebbe zt”l had a positive relationship with a few artists: Jacques Lipschutz, Yakov Agam, Baruch Nachshon, and born-and-raised Lubavitchers Hendel Lieberman (who was the brother of the legendary mashpi’a Rabbi Mendel Futerfass) and my wonderful and unforgettable friend, the late Zalman Kleinman. But maybe that was part of Rabbi Schneerson’s kiruv (outreach) mission with its nuanced embrace of selective parts of modernism in order turn them around to kedushah (holiness)—which the kabbalists call “it’hapkha,” meaning transformation or reversal. Jewish fine art (as opposed to decorative art) is a relatively new thing if we begin with Camille Pissarro (1830-1903)—whose father was Jewish, although some claim that his mother was Creole (at any rate he was Jewish enough to be hated for it by Degas and Renoir)—or Amedeo Modigliani (1884-1920), who was only a couple of years older than Chagall. So I’d be surprised if the early Hasidic Rebbes or their Mitnagdic counterparts had much exposure to it. But, of course, with Rebbes you can never tell…
Q. In The Kabbalah of Relation, Marc Chagall’s paintings have been juxtaposed to this Talmudic-Kabbalistic text. Is the juxtaposition warranted, not to the point, or even unlawful?

DS: On the one hand, Rabbi Naor’s recognition of this correspondence was a brilliant observation. As such, it would have been hard to resist. On the other, I question whether it’s okay halakhically, particularly in a sefer, a volume of Torah. One or two of these paintings should definitely keep this volume off the shelf in Biegeleisen’s Seforim Store. But sometimes when we look at art, we enter another mental space and unconsciously set aside such considerations. We’re looking at imaginal reality, not the physical world in the conventional sense. Maybe there’s a faint glimmer of a heter (leniency) there—but maybe not.
Another question that this “tzushtell” (tie-in) raises is the legitimacy of Chagall as a Jewish mystic, which the book seems to propose (as with Chagall’s “Hasidim vs. Misnagdim” comment).
Although he was a towering creative artist, I don’t think Chagall was a Jewish mystic, as Rabbi Naor suggests, but a Jewish pagan. Erich Neumann might have fitted Chagall’s fertility symbolism very nicely into his huge Jungian opus, The Origins and History of Consciousness (which I actually read from cover to cover about 40 years ago). Chagall didn’t need Kabbalah or Hasidism for his images. These are archetypal ideas, as shaped by the artistic vision of a White Russian village Jew who somehow made it past the maitre d’ and into the high culture of Paris.
There was an early 20th century British critic and writer named T.E. Hulme who once famously remarked that “Romanticism is spilt religion.” There’s plenty of that in Chagall. But on the other hand, we see that for many religious Jewish artists, Chagall created a dreamy, surrealistic style that allowed them to weave together powerful mystical images. Examples are Elyah Sukkot, Baruch Nachshon, Shoshanna Brombacher and others. So in a way, the “spilt religion” can be channeled back to where it comes from.
Q. Is Naor’s transition or extrapolation from a Talmudic text to Kabbalistic teachings traditional or non-traditional?

DS: I’d say that it’s brilliant, creative, and poetic in its way of linking ideas. The tone and texture of the hiddush (innovation) is not traditional, but the hook-up between nigleh (exoteric) and nistar (esoteric) is quite traditional and legitimate. One may object to this or that point, but that’s Torah, isn’t it? Not only halakhic issues are debated in the Gemara but also matters of Aggadah (theological and other non-legalistic teachings), as Abraham J. Heschel shows in Torah min ha-Shamayim. And besides, whatever a perspicacious thinker such as Bezalel Naor says deserves our attention, whatever its proximity to the edge of the cliff may be. 
Q. What is the essential difference between the Mitnagdic (Vilna Gaon) and Hasidic (Ba’al Shem Tov) approaches to interpreting Kabbalah, and how do we see this difference illustrated in the two solutions or “endings” offered in this book?

DS: In art, we often speak of classicism and romanticism. The classicists are (or more accurately “were”) the “straight-arrows.” They stressed academic training and were concerned with realistic depictions and fine technique; certain subjects were acceptable, while other were not, or were certainly overlooked. Emotional restraint, rational intellect and high culture were implicitly valued. Romanticism represented a radical break with this approach to life and art. Our old friend T.E. Hulme described it as being “informed by a belief in the infinite in man and nature” – although most of these artists were and are secularists. (Look at the way the Abstract Expressionists talked about their art! Especially Mark Rothko, who really missed his calling as a kabbalist—or at least a professor of Kabbalah. The art critic Katharine Kuh once published a book of interviews with a number of artists whose words often reflect this “belief in the infinite in man and nature.”[2])
Somewhat similarly, in their own way the Mitnagdim were religious classicists and the Hasidim were closer to the romantics. Maybe that’s what Chagall meant with his remark that the new artists of his day were like the Hasidim.
The clash between the Mitnagdim and the Hasidim was also a clash between two broad mindsets: a dominant (albeit faith-based) rationalism vs. a greater emphasis on intuition and passionate feeling; scholarly elitism vs. greater democracy of spirit, and even an inclusivism within the social strata of the close-knit fraternities we associate with the Hasidic movement.
In terms of Rabbi Naor’s book, the “Mitnagdic ending” (admittedly this is a gross oversimplification) is that the rooster, who represents the Creator, extends a garment of divine protection over the hen, who represents either the Shekhinah or the individual soul. By virtue of the holiness of the Torah and mitsvot (commandments), the extrication of the fallen souls on the lowest levels of creation is accomplished. All souls will be incarnated and refined of their spiritual dross; then the rooster’s promise to the hen that “the robe will reach down to your legs” will be fulfilled, and Mashi’ah will come. (This is based on a teaching of Rabbi Isaac Haver, representing the school of the Vilna Gaon, if I didn’t take a wrong turn along the way.)
In the Hasidic counterpart to this scenario (à la Reb Eizikl Komarner, fusing teachings of the Baal Shem Tov and the Maggid of Mezeritch), the Shekhinah is “adorned with adornments that do not exist”[3]—that is, there is not only a cosmic restoration accomplished by our ‘avodat ha-birurim (spiritual work) throughout the course of time, but an advantage of some sort to creation. Something “extra” is delivered to the Creator, beyond the holiness of the Torah and mitsvot (commandments). And this is accomplished by the tsaddik who descends into the nether regions in order to procure those “adornments.”[4]
The author concludes his book on the following note:
What is certain is that in the process, the tsaddik will be beaten to a pulp. (In the words of the Rabbi of Komarno, “[God] chastises and beats the righteous.”) The crown of the just man and his wings—his entire spiritual profile—will be lowered. And yet, even in defeat the tsaddik is valiant and beloved to the Shekhinah.[5]
Q. Rabbi Naor contrasts Maimonides’ view of human sensuality with that of the Kabbalists. How Judaic or Hellenic is Maimonides’ view?

DS: The Zohar, Rabbi Moses Cordovero (RaMaK), the Reshit Hokhmah, the main schools of Hasidism that I’m familiar with, and certainly Rabbi Nahman of Breslov, all have a marked ascetic element. Sexuality is often sublimated to the spiritual plane, and kedushah (sanctity) in all such matters is stressed. Rabbi Nahman uses the term “yihuda tata’ah” (lower unification) to describe the ideal conduct of the married couple; sanctification of the marital relationship elicits the “yihuda ila’ah” (upper unification) on the sublime level (which brings about cosmic harmony).
Ditto the approach to the ko’ah ha-medameh, or imagination. The Breslov literature often contrasts the imagination of a spiritually-evolved human being with that of a coarse person who has the “imagination of a beast.”[6] Rabbi Nathan [Sternhartz] discusses these concepts in Likkutei Halakhot (beginning Hil. Sheluhin 5). There he states that the imagination can be a shali’ah (emissary) of the sekhel (reason)[7]; or it can be co-opted by the physical, which is to say, the animalistic side of human nature.
Rabbi Nahman’s lessons are extremely imagistic and poetic in their construction. “This is a behinah (aspect) of this; that is a behinah (aspect) of that.” In this way Rabbi Nahman builds connections between things and shows their underlying unity. And of course, there are Rabbi Nahman’s famous thirteen mystical stories, which anticipated surrealism by more than a century. All this is a demonstration of “birur ko’ah ha-medameh,” clarification of the imagination, so that it may express the essence of mind.
Although the kabbalists do not share the puritanical view of Maimonides toward the body and the conjugal act, as Rabbi Naor points out,[8] they are not so far apart in their attitudes toward hedonism—but not for the same reasons. The philosophers prized the intellect’s ascendancy over emotion and sensuality, and Maimonides may have been influenced by this attitude. The mystics, however, are more concerned with transcendence and sublimation (in the religious sense, not in the Freudian sense). Their bias is not due to a prejudice in favor of reason, but bespeaks the love and awe of God. 
Q. The morning blessing reads: “…Who has given understanding to the rooster to discern between day and night.” Isn’t the blessing reversed? Night precedes day. Certainly the blessing should read “to discern between night and day”!

DS: Based on teachings from the Zohar and Rabbi Isaac Luria (Ari),[9] the robe given by rooster to the hen may be said to correspond to the process of birur—the extrication of all souls from Adam Beli’al, or “Anti-Adam” —throughout the course of history. That is, the human body from the head to feet represents the yeridat ha-dorot, the spiritual decline of the generations. The “head,” beginning with Adam, is like day, while the “feet,” or later generations, are like night. In these final generations, the Shekhinah, which represents God’s immanence in creation, is positioned at the feet of Adam Beli’al. The rooster understands the spiritual decline at each stage of the game. We who live in the spiritual “twilight zone” can’t function like our noble ancestors (compared to whom the Talmud says we are as donkeys). Hence, the phraseology of the blessing, “between day and night.”

Postscript:

I’d like to add one more thought about the issue discussed at the end of the text. As mentioned above, Rabbi Naor quotes Reb Eizikl Komarner’s remarks about the fallen “letters” of creation, which the tsaddikim must elevate from what the Zohar calls “raglin de-raglin,” or “feet of feet”—the lowest levels. The Komarno Rebbe cites the Maggid of Mezeritch, who contrasts “adornments that did exist” with “adornments that did not exist.” The former are related to the Torah and mitsvot (commandments)—the holy—while the latter are related to the mundane and that which is most distant from holiness.
It strikes me as worth comparing this to Rabbi Nahman’s cryptic parable about a king who commissioned two fellows to decorate separate but facing halves of his new palace.[10] The first appointee mastered all the necessary skills and then painted the most beautiful murals depicting all sorts of animals and birds on the walls of his chamber. The second guy goofed off until the deadline was only a few days away—and became panic-stricken. Then he had a brainstorm. He smeared the walls with a substance (“pakst”) so black that it shined. Thus the walls were able to reflect everything in the other room. Then Decorator Number Two hung a curtain to divide between the rooms.
When the big day arrived, the king inspected his new palace, and was overjoyed with the murals of the first man, executed with such consummate skill. The other chamber was shrouded in darkness, due to the curtain. But when our “chevreman” drew back the curtain, there now shone into the room the reflection of everything that was in the first room directly across. (Here the Rebbe mentions birds specifically for the third time.) Even the elegant furnishings and precious objects that the king brought into the first chamber were reflected in the second. Moreover, whatever additional wondrous vessels the king wanted to bring into his palace were visible in the second chamber.
What were these “additional wondrous vessels” that had not yet been brought to the palace, but which the king desired? Moreover, it is not clear that the king meant to bring them to the first chamber, with its lovely murals and furnishings, thus to be reflected in the second chamber. What the text seems to state is that these desired “wondrous vessels” were already visible in the second chamber—“and the matter was good in the king’s eyes.”[11]
Maybe we can venture the interpretation that it is the tsaddik (righteous man) who diligently heeds the king’s command and decorates his half of the palace so beautifully, while it is the ba’al teshuvah (penitent) who creates the shiny black room. The ba’al teshuvah must receive an illumination from the tsaddik on the other side of the hall, who did everything “by the book.” Yet Rabbi Nahman indicates that the ba’al teshuvah has an advantage over the tsaddik.[12]
Perhaps this parable of Rabbi Nahman is cut from the same cloth as the Hasidic idea discussed at the end of Rabbi Naor’s book, that the tsaddik, through his willing and somewhat self-sacrificial descent to the lowest levels, brings to the realm of kedushah additional elements that could not otherwise have been obtained. It is this paradoxical descent of the tsaddik that ultimately brings the greatest delight to the Master of the Universe.
[1] “Based on remarks at The Carlebach Shul, Tuesday evening, November 20, 2012.”
[2] In addition, see Robert Rosenblum’s Modern Painting and the Northern Romantic Tradition, if you can still find a copy. It’s a real “eye-opener,” both artistically and intellectually.
[3] See Naor’s endnote on p. 62, especially citing Rabbenu Hananel’s reading in the Gemara (‘Eruvin 100b) which is the departure point of the entire book.
[4] Cf. Likkutei Moharan II, 8.
[5] The Kabbalah of Relation, p. 39.
[6] For example, see Likkutei Moharan, Part I, lessons 25, 49; and especially Part II, lesson 8 (“Tik’u/Tohakhah”).
[7] I am loath to equate this with the rational faculty in the Maimonidean sense.
[8] See the discussion in The Kabbalah of Relation, pp. 42-45.
[9] Sources cited in The Kabbalah of Relation, p. 55.
[10] Hayyei Moharan, sec. 98; English translation in Rabbi Avraham Greenbaum, Tzaddik (Breslov Research Institute), “New Stories,” sec. 224.
[11] In Hebrew: “Ve-khen kol mah she-yirtzeh ha-melekh lehakhnis ‘od kelim nifla’im le-tokh ha-palatin, yiheyu kulam nir’im be-helko shel ha-sheni, ve-hutav ha-davar lifnei ha-melekh.” 
[12] Cf. TB, Berakhot 34b: “In the place where the penitents stand, the wholly righteous cannot stand.”