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Israel ben Shabtai [Hapstein]. ‘Avodat Yisrael – Book review by Bezalel Naor

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Israel ben Shabtai [Hapstein]. ‘Avodat Yisrael (B’nei Berak: Pe’er mi-Kedoshim, 5773 / 2013). 66, 738 pages. 
Reviewed by Bezalel Naor 
Rabbi Israel ben Shabtai Hapstein, the Maggid of Kozienice (or more commonly, the “Kozhnitser Maggid”) (d. 1814) was a major figure in the third generation of East-European Hasidism founded by Rabbi Israel Ba’al Shem Tov, and specifically, a towering luminary within Polish Hasidism. Like his contemporary Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liozhno (and later Liadi), Rabbi Israel studied under Rabbi Dov Baer, the Maggid of Mezritch (who led the Hasidic movement after the death of the founder, Ba’al Shem Tov). Unlike Rabbi Shneur Zalman, whose school of Hasidism, Habad, continues to this very day, Rabbi Israel founded no school and has no hasidim, no followers to speak of, today. 
The same goes for Rabbi Israel’s book. Whereas Rabbi Shneur Zalman’s most famous work, Tanya, has earned the sobriquet (at least among Habad Hasidim) “the written Torah of Hasidism” (“torah she-biketav shel hasidut”), relatively few have studied Rabbi Israel’s magnum opus, ‘Avodat Yisrael (Service of Israel), a commentary on the Pentateuch. Indicative of neglect in this respect, until today the book has been an example of poor typography. First published in 1842, ‘Avodat Yisrael has been reissued periodically with pitifully broken letters of “Rashi” script (today unfamiliar to Hebrew readers without rabbinic training). About now the cognoscenti will chime in, “Afilu sefer torah she-be-heikhal tsarikh mazal” (“Even a Torah scroll in the ark requires luck”) and “Habent sua fata libelli” (“Books have their fates”). 
Thankfully, this horrendous situation has now been remedied. Enter Pe’er mi-Kedoshim, a publishing concern headed by Rabbi Israel Menachem Alter, son of the present Rebbe of Gur. Pe’er mi-Kedoshim has committed itself to re-issuing the classic texts of Hasidic thought in deluxe, state-of-the-art editions. The Kozhnitser Maggid’s ‘Avodat Yisrael is the premier volume in a series envisioned to include: Degel Mahaneh Efraim by Ba’al Shem Tov’s grandson, Rabbi Moses Hayyim Ephraim of Sudylkow (next on the agenda); No’am Elimelekh by Rabbi Elimelekh of Lizhensk; Zot Zikaron by Rabbi Jacob Isaac Horowitz (the “Seer of Lublin”), et cetera. 
The book displays all the benefits that the modern age of Hebrew printing has brought to the sacred realm. The cursive “Rashi” script has been replaced by the square characters familiar to every Hebrew reader, which have then been provided with vowel points and modern punctuation. Sidebars caption the highlights of the Maggid’s comments. Footnotes reference sources in rabbinic and kabbalistic literature, as well as cross-referencing to parallel passages in the Maggid’s own works. As is customary, the book is preceded by “Toledot” (Biography) of the Author, and followed by “Maftehot” (Indices). (At present these indices are purely topical. It is hoped that in the future there will be included an index of the works cited by the Maggid, which will allow students of his thought a glimpse of his library, and the horizon of his intellectual and spiritual world.) 
Quoting the Psalmist, “Who can understand errors?” (Psalms 19:12), the Editors have encouraged readers to offer constructive criticism, including pointing out errata in the present printing. Let us take them up on their kind offer. 
In Parashat Bereshit, end s.v. vayyasem H’ le-Kayin ‘ot (6a), the Maggid observes “that there are times when miracles are performed by the Other Side, as we find in the Gemara, and in the Midrash, Parashat Toledot, that through Arginiton miracles were performed for Rabbi Judah the Prince and his companions, and the Omnipresent has many emissaries.” Where the Maggid alludes to an unspecified “Gemara,” the Editors have supplied within the text itself, within parentheses, “Me’ilah 17b.” If one consults the text of that passage in the Talmud Bavli, one discovers that it concerns miracles wrought by Ben Temalyon (name of a demon) for Rabbi Shim’on ben Yohai during his mission to Rome. When offered the demon’s help, rather than rebuffing him, Rabbi Shim’on resigned himself to accepting his intervention by saying: “Yavo’ ha-ness mi-kol makom.” (“Let the miracle come from any place.”) This statement of Rabbi Shim’on is similar in tenor to the Maggid’s conclusion: “Harbeh sheluhim la-Makom.” (“The Omnipresent has many emissaries.”) 
Clearly, the Editors have read the text of ‘Avodat Yisrael in a disjointed fashion, interpreting that the “Gemara” and the “Midrash, Parashat Toledot” refer to two different stories. My own reading of the situation is that the “Gemara” and the “Midrash, Parashat Toledot” refer to the identical story whereby Rabbi Judah the Prince and his companions were spared the imperial wrath of Diocletian through the intervention of the demon Arginiton (or in the version of the Yerushalmi, “Antigris”). The “Gemara” of course is not the Gemara Bavlit, but rather the Gemara Yerushalmit, and the reference is to the Talmud Yerushalmi at the end of the eighth chapter of Terumot. I rather like my suggested reading for two reasons. First, we are told in the biographical introduction to the book that Rabbi Hayyim of Volozhin attested that the Kozhnitser Maggid was “familiar with Talmud Yerushalmi” (“baki be-Shas Yerushalmi”) (p. 30). Second, in recent years, the Hasidic court of Gur has expended great energy in promoting the study of the hitherto neglected Talmud Yerushalmi, so I believe it especially appropriate that the edition of ’Avodat Yisrael under the guidance of Rabbi Israel Menachem Alter shelit”a offer this alternate solution to deciphering the Maggid’s cryptic reference to “the Gemara.” 
In Parashat Shemot, beginning s.v. ve-sham’u le-kolekha (91a), the Maggid writes that Moses was confronted with a conundrum. On the one hand, he was pressing for some kind of divine assurance that his mission to Egypt be crowned with success and that the Hebrews indeed hearken to his voice. On the other hand, he was concerned that by its very nature a divine guarantee would rob the Hebrews of their free will, forcing them into belief. The assumption is that the Hebrews were redeemed from Egypt in the merit of their faith or emunah. (See Exodus Rabbah, Beshalah [parashah 23] playing on the words “tashuri me-rosh Amanah” [Song of Songs 4:8].) It is a tribute to the originality of the Kozhnitser Maggid that while most Biblical commentators busied themselves with the philosophic problem of God’s hardening the heart of Pharaoh, thereby depriving him of the free will to respond affirmatively to the divine demands, the Maggid explored in the opposite direction the problem of preserving the Hebrews’ free will to disbelieve. The Maggid’s solution to the problem involves some rather esoteric doctrines of Kabbalah, namely “hanhagat gadlut” (“governance of greatness”) versus “hanhagat katnut” (“governance of smallness”), best left for the adept in Jewish mysticism. I would just point out for the record that the Editors missed a cue here. When the Maggid writes “’Ve-hen’ she-hu ahat,” he is clearly referencing the Talmud Bavli, Shabbat 31b: “She-ken bi-leshon yevani korin la-ahat ‘hen’.” (“Hen in Greek is one.”) 
In the section for the festival of Shavu’ot, s.v. u-Moshe ‘alah el ha-Elohim (200a), the Maggid writes: “Since all Israel prepared themselves for the sanctity of the Lord, and a leader is commensurate to his generation, therefore Moses was able to ascend above.” Now the crucial words, the key to understanding this thought, “u-parnas lefi doro” (“and a leader is commensurate to his generation”), have been emended by the Editors to: “kol ehad le-fi koho” (“each according to his ability”). Granted that in the old edition there was some fuzziness concerning these words (“u-parush lefi doro”), but they could still be made out simply by correcting “u-parush lefi doro” to “u-parnas lefi doro,” a well-known Hebrew adage. In the present version, one is at a loss to glean the Maggid’s meaning. (I see now that the wording “kol ehad lefi koho” does occur in the Warsaw 1878 edition of ‘Avodat Yisrael. Unfortunately, the edition I possess is without place or date. Unable to locate a copy of the editio princeps of 1842, I have no way of knowing which version occurs there.) 
In Parashat Mas’ei, end s.v. eleh mas’ei b’nei yisrael (240a), in regard to Tish’ah be-Av, the Maggid discusses the difference between the “batei gava’ei” (“inner chambers”) and the “batei bara’ei” (“outer chambers”), alluded to by the Rabbis in TB, Hagigah 5b. The Maggid’s remarks in this passage are consonant with what he wrote elsewhere in Ner Israel, his commentary to the Likkutim me-Rav Hai Gaon (2a): “In the outer chambers there is sadness and mourning, but for one who is able to ascend to the inner chambers, to the will of the Creator, blessed be He, certainly there is happiness.” (By the way, the kabbalists’ reading of the passage in Hagigah, while opposite Rashi’s, coincides with the version of Rabbenu Hananel. See Rabbi Solomon Elyashev, Hakdamot u-She’arim [Piotrkow, 1909], sha’ar 6, chap. 6, “avnei milu’im” [24b-27b].) 
In Parashat Devarim, end s.v. eleh ha-devarim (246a) there is a quote from Rabbi Isaac Luria’s commentary to the Idra Zuta. The Maggid supplies the exact page number: folio 120. The problem is that the passage does not occur there. The Editors have left the reference in the text untouched. At least in a footnote we should be told that the quote may be found in Rabbi Jacob Zemah, Kol ba-Ramah (Korets, 1785), 122a. (I am indebted to my dear friend Prof. Menachem Kallus for the correct address.) See also Rabbi Hayyim Vital, Sefer ha-Derushim (Jerusalem, 5756 /1996), 214 (left column); and Rabbi Shalom Buzaglo, Hadrat Melekh, 139a. 
In the section for Tu be-Av, s.v. meyuhasot she-bahen (256b-257a), the Maggid writes that there are times that ki-ve-yakhol (as it were), God so delights in Israel that He becomes as a young man (bahur). The Maggid writes that he has dealt with this in his commentary to the line in Avot (beginning Chap. 6), “Barukh she-bahar bahem u-be-mishnatam.” As the Editors point out, the comment is not to be found in the Maggid’s remarks on Avot. Instead, they refer us to a parallel passage in Re’eh, s.v. ve-hineh ha-Midrash (270a). By the same token, they might have referred us to Ner Israel (commentary to Likkutim me-Rav Hai Gaon), 4b: “Ve-nikra bahur ka-arazim…” 
In the section for Rosh ha-Shanah, there is a lengthy kabbalistic homily, the thrust of which is that on that day we ask the Holy One, blessed be He, to reinvest himself in the particular role of “Elohei Yisrael” (“God of Israel”). “The God of these [Jews] is asleep.” Which is to say, [the nations] were not foolish enough to assert that the Sibat Kol ha-Sibbot (Cause of All Causes) is in a state of slumber, only “the God of these [Jews],” in other words, this particular hanhagah (governance) referred to as “Elohei Yisrael” (the God of Israel) is in a state of sleep…and unconsciousness, and there is but “Elaha de-Elahaya” (the God of Gods). Based on this, you will understand the kavvanot (mystical meditations) of Rabbi Isaac Luria for Rosh Hashanah. We awaken Him with the shofar (ram’s horn). (‘Avodat Yisrael, 290b) The Editors duly noted the reference to Rabbi Hayyim Vital, Peri ‘Ets Hayyim, Sha’ar ha-Shofar, chap. 1. But what they should have noted is the following reference which would have been even more instructive: “Now in the days of Mordecai was the mystery of the time of dormita of Zeir Anpin, and the mystery that Haman said ‘There is (yeshno) one people spread and separated among the peoples’ [Esther 3:8]. The Rabbis, of blessed memory, commented on the word ‘yeshno,’ that Haman alleged ‘their God is asleep.’” (Rabbi Hayyim Vital, Sha’ar ha-Purim, beginning chap. 5) The Holy Maggid loaded the kavvanot of Purim on to the kavvanot of Rosh Ha-Shanah! 
The Kozhnitser Maggid was a preeminent halakhist (specializing in heter ‘agunot, permitting wives of missing husbands to remarry), kabbalist, thinker (penning commentaries to the works of Maharal of Prague), and statesman. With all that, the following anecdote sent a shiver down my spine: The Kozhnitser Maggid was on friendly terms with several prominent members of the Polish nobility. In the eighteenth century, Poland, dismembered and subjected to a tripartite division—whereby Prussia annexed the western portion of Poland; Austro-Hungary annexed Galicia in the south; and Russia annexed the east—simply ceased to exist. A certain Polish nobleman importuned the Maggid to intercede with Heaven on behalf of the Polish nation. The gentleman would not leave the Maggid’s home until promised Polish independence. Finally, the Maggid foretold that at a time in the future Poland would once again be a sovereign nation—for a span of “three shemitin” (three sabbatical cycles or 21 years). When the Jews of Warsaw were being subjected to aerial bombardment by the Luftwaffe in September of 1939, they recalled the Maggid’s prediction. In the aftermath of World War I, in 1918 to be precise, Poland once again declared its independence. Three shemitin had passed from 1918 until 1939. Warsaw capitulated to the Nazis on the eve of Sukkot, the yahrzeit of the Kozhnitser Maggid! This anecdote was told by a witness to Warsaw’s destruction, Rabbi Joseph Friedenson, editor of Dos Yiddishe Vort, the Yiddish magazine of Agudath Israel of America (“Toledot,” p. 37).


Borders, Breasts, and Bibliography

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Borders, Breasts, and Bibliography
By Elliott Horowitz
Dan Rabinowitz has provided us which a characteristically learned pre-Passover post on the Prague 1526 Haggadah, specifically concerning the illustrations on its borders, and from those borders continues on to the always contentious subject of breasts, a bare set (or rather, two bare sets) of which he claims may be found on the title page of that edition. Indeed, on both the right and left borders of the title page may be found rather curious figures with non-human faces but quite human- looking breasts; yet those breasts are not bare, but rather bound in form-fitting corsets from which the nipples peek out. Readers may search on their own, online or elsewhere, for images of such nipple -revealing bodices, which were popular in English masque costumes of the early seventeenth century,[1] but I will provide only a quotation from the celebrated English traveler Fynes Moryson (1566-1630) on the women of late sixteenth-century Venice who “weare gowns, leaving all of the neck and brest bare, and they are closed before with a lace….they show their naked breasts, and likewise their dugges, bound up and swelling with linnen, and all made white by art.”[2]
Here is the title page::

From the breasts on the borders of the Prague Haggadah’s title page Rabinowitz moves on to the less contentious pair to be found in the Haggadah itself, appropriately accompanying the quotation from Ezekiel 16. He charitably notes that “both Charles Wengrov and Elliot[t] Horowitz have pointed to earlier manuscript antecedents of Prague’s usage of such illustrations,” but then takes issue with “Hor[o]witz’s contention that Spanish Jews were less accepting of such displays.” To that end he presents, in living color, two panels from the so-called “Sarajevo Haggadah,” illustrated in fourteenth-century Spain, depicting “a bare-breasted Eve,” and another illustration from the “Golden Haggadah,” – of similar provenance – depicting female bathers in a scene of the finding of Moses.
Yet in all those instances the semi-nude women are shown either in profile with partially covered breasts, or with breasts of rather adolescent dimensions – in contrast to the more amply-bosomed maiden depicted frontally in the Prague Haggadah (and uncensored facsimiles thereof), but not in Rabinowitz’s otherwise amply illustrated post. Moreover, in contrast to the rather demure female figures in the late medieval Spanish haggadot, the “Prague Venus” (as I shall call her) gazes directly at the viewer – in a manner reminiscent of Titian’s “Venus of Urbino,” completed a dozen years after the 1526 Haggadah was published. It may be noted that two bare-breasted mermaids are frontally depicted on a bronze Hannukah lamp from sixteenth-century Italy in the Israel Museum’s Stieglitz collection.[3]
As far as the Prague Haggadah’s date, Rabinowitz (gently) chides me for taking Efrat’s Religious Council to task not only for deleting the semi-nude scene from the 2001 facsimile edition in honor of their settlement’s twentieth anniversary, but for giving the Haggadah’s date as 1527 rather than 1526. Rabinowitz justifies that error by noting that the (uncensored) Berlin facsimile – whose date he gives erroneously as 1925 rather than 1926 – gave the Haggadah’s date as “5287/1527.” This is indeed true of its frontispiece, but in my battered copy of the Berlin facsimile a previous owner helpfully left behind a double-side flyer for the Haggadah which includes the more accurate information: “GEDRUCKT ZU PRAAG, 5287/1526.”

In my modest collection of haggadot the Berlin facsimile of the Prague Haggadah sits next to an octavo-size paperback of that same Haggadah issued in 1965 by Israel’s Ministry of Housing. It’s frontispiece reads:
שי לחג הפסח מוגש ע”י מפעל החסכון לבנין
לחוסכים במפעלי החסכון
Although the date of the Haggadah is there too given erroneously as 1527, Israel’s Mapai-controlled Housing Ministry of 1965 saw no reason to make the same breast-related deletions as Efrat’s Religious Council thirty six years later – or perhaps did not yet have (or afford) the technical ability to do so. The minister of housing before Passover of  that year  was Yosef Almogi, who had  been general secretary of Mapai during the early 1960’s but joined Ben-Gurion’s renegade Rafi party before the November elections of 1965, after which he was  replaced by Levi Eshkol. The copy in my possession previously belonged to David Zakkai (1886-1978), who was briefly general secretary of the Histadrut before David Ben-Gurion assumed that position  in 1921, and after the founding of Davar in 1925 wrote for that newspaper for many years under the pen-name “Z. David.”  He won the Sokolov prize for journalism in 1956. Some three decades later many of the books previously in his possession were being sold off as duplicates by the library of Ben-Gurion University, which was named after yet another Mapai politician –  Zalman Aranne (1899-1970), who had also been general secretary of the party, and later served( twice) as  Israel’s secretary of education and culture.
The old days of Mapai dominance are well behind us, but so are the days when  Israel’s housing ministry could reprint a Haggadah showing bare breasts. As I write, the newly installed minister of housing is  Uri Ariel of the Jewish Home, whose predecessor was a member of Shas. Perhaps the additional funds that are now expected to come Efrat’s way will allow its Religious Council to put out another facsimile edition celebrating yet another expansion of that venerable settlement. My own suggestion is Ze’ev Raban’s illustrated Shir ha-Shirim, also suitable for Passover, but not yet available in a kosher edition. It will certainly keep their censorship committee busy.

[1] See recently Barbara Ravelhofer, The Early Stuart Masque: Dance, Costume, and Music (2009).
[2] F. Moryson, An Itinerary…(1617, reprint 1907-8), recently quoted in M. F. Rosenthal, “Cutting a Good Figure…,” in M. Feldman and B. Gordon eds. The Courtesan’s Arts: Cross-Cultural Perspectives (2006), 61. See there also illus. 2.2.
[3] For reproductions of the image see Chaya Benjamin ed., The Stieglitz Collection: Masterpieces of Jewish Art (1987), 157; Elliott Horowitz, “Families and their Fortunes: The Jews of Early Modern Italy,” in David Biale ed., Cultures of the Jews (2002), 578.  

Appendix by Dan Rabinowitz:

In addition to the censored reproductions discussed in the post and the one provided by Elliott Horowitz, we provide an additional example in this ever growing genre. One of the more well-known series that reproduce facsimile haggadot are those published on behalf of the Diskin Orphan Hospital Ward of Israel. As a fundraiser, they publish and distribute a different reprint of an earlier haggadah both print and manuscript. (See here discussing the Washington Haggadah reprint that led to accusation of heresy ). The first haggadah reprinted in this series is the Prague 1526. But, there are numerous errors and significant omissions in this reproduction. First the title, “The First Known Printed Passover Haggadah by Gershom Kohen Prague 5287/1527.” This edition of the haggadah is not the first known printed haggadah, that is likely circa 1486, by Soncino (see Yerushalmi, Haggadah & History, plates 2-3; Issakson, no. 29), and the first illustrated is the 1512 Latin. In the introduction written by Dr. Aaron Rosmarin, he offers that Prague 1526 is “the oldest printed Hagadah graced with woodcuts.” Again that is wrong. The 1486 haggadah already includes a handful of woodcuts.

Instead, at best, Prague 1526 is the first fully illustrated haggadah for a Jewish audience. The title also contains an error regarding the secular date, giving it at 1527. Rosmarin compounds this error. First he hedges on the secular year, when he explains that this editions was “printed by Gershom ben Shlomoh ha-Kohen and his brother Gronem in Prague 1526/27” but then zeros in on exactly when it “was completed on Sunday, the 26th of the month of Teves, 5287 (in January 1527).” It was December 30, 1526 and not some time in January 1527.

Additionally, regarding the nude image accompanying Ezekiel 16:7 that is omitted in its entirety. Although this omission (as well as a two other seeming non-offensive images) is not noted in the introduction, Rosmarin is careful to explain (without irony) that the 1526 edition contains some minor textual variants and omits the songs Ehad mi Yodeh and Had Gadyah, therefore this facsimile is not being reproduced to be used at the seder as “there are Hagadahs in abundance” for that purpose. Instead, the reason for reproducing Prague 1526 is because “this Hagadah is of great value for its art and uniqueness.”



The Cup for the Visitor: What lies behind the Kos Shel Eliyahu?

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The Cup for the Visitor: What lies behind the Kos Shel Eliyahu?
By: Eliezer Brodt
 
In this post I would like to deal with tracing the early sources for the Kos Shel Eliyahu. A version of this article was printed last year in Ami Magazine (# 65).  This post contains a few corrections and additions to that version. A much more expanded version of this article will appear in Hebrew shortly (IY”H).
One of the memorable parts of the seder night is during Shefoch Chamascha when we open the door for Eliyahu Hanavi to come inside and drink from the Kos Shel Eliyahu. Children all over the world look carefully to see if there is less wine in the cup after he leaves, while many adults ‘accidently’ shake the table to make sure that there is less wine. What are the sources of this custom? When do we pour the kos of wine and what should we do with the leftover wine from the kos—drink it, spill it out, or save it? In this article I hope to trace this custom to its  earliest known sources and to discuss some other aspects of the seder night related to this topic.[1]
I would like to point out that my intention in this article is not to collect all the sources and reasons on these specific topics but rather to focus on the earliest sources and how these various minhagim came about.[2]
To begin with, it is worth pointing out that as far as we know today, there is no mention of the concept of Kos Shel Eliyahu in all of the literature that we have from the Geonim and Rishonim. Neither is there mention of it in the Tur, Shulchan Orach, Rema, or other early commentators on the Shulchan Orach.
One of the earliest mentions of a Kos Shel Eliyahu can be found in Rabbi Yaakov Reischer’s (1660-1733) work, Chok Yaakov, on Hilchos Pesach, first printed in 1696, in Dessau. He wrote that in his area, people had the custom to pour an extra glass of wine and call it Kos Shel Eliyahu.[3] He does not mention a reason for this custom, or at what point during the seder it is done, nor does he connect it to the opening of the door during Shefoch Chamascha or the idea Eliyahu Hanavi comes to the Seder.
Rabbi Chaim Benveniste (1603-1673), famous for his work Knesses Hagedolah, in his work on Pesach called Pesach Meuvin, first printed in 1692, writes that he saw some Ashkenazi Jews that leave an empty glass in the middle of the table for the leftovers of each cup of wine, and they call it Kos Shel Eliyahu. He writes that he liked this minhag so much that he started doing it himself, and he drank this glass during the Meal.[4] Here too, there is no connection made between the Kos Shel Eliyahu and opening the
door during Shefoch Chamascha for Eliyahu Hanavi.
In 1728, Rabbi Moshe Chagiz (1671-1751), printed part of a work of his, on minhagim, in the back of Sefer Birchat Eliyahu[5]. He writes that he was asked about the custom of Ashkenazi Jews to pour a cup of wine at the beginning of the seder for Eliyahu Hanavi, and that after the seder the head of the household slept next to this full glass of wine. Rabbi Moshe Chagiz was asked if observing this custom was a problem of nichush [divination].
Rabbi Chagiz replied that it was not a problem of nichush at all. He explained that the reason for this custom was similar to the reason we prepare a special chair for Eliyahu Hanavi at a bris milah.[6] Eliyahu Hanavi witnesses that the bris is performed. So too, on Pesach, Eliyahu Hanavi is supposed to be a witness that the Korban Pesach is done properly. The Korban Pesach is dependent on milah, since the halacha is that only someone with a bris milah can eat the Korban Pesach.[7] However it is important to point out that according to this reasoning, Eliyahu Hanavi does come to the seder, but it would seem that this would apply only during the times when the Korban Pesach was eaten.

 

New early sources for Kos Shel Eliyahu
 
Until 1984 these were the three earliest sources that made any mention of Kos Shel Eliyahu. In 1984, Rabbi Binyomin Nuzetz printed parts of a manuscript of Rabbi Zeligman Benga on Pesachim. Rabbi Benga was a grandson of Rabbi Menachem Tzioni and a close talmid of the Maharil, and he died around 1471. Rabbi Benga writes that he noticed some people pour a special glass of wine and call it Kos Shel Eliyahu. He writes that a possible reason for this is that we pour wine for Eliyahu Hanavi, since we are expecting him to come and he will need wine for the Arba Kosos.[8] This source helps us date the Kos Shel Eliyahu a few hundred years earlier than previously thought. Previously, the earliest source was printed in1692. What is interesting about this source is that he was not sure where the minhag came from and, again, he mentions no connection to Shefoch Chamascha.
In 1988, the department in Machon Yerushalayim that prints early works of German Jewry printed two volumes from manuscript from Rabbi Yuzpeh Shamash (1604-1678) of Worms. Rabbi Yuzpeh Shamash writes that it was the custom in Worms at the beginning of the seder to pour one extra cup of wine. Just as we say in the Haggadah, “Kol dichfin yesev v’yachul,” we prepare a glass for the guest who might come. This glass is called Kos Shel Eliyahu since this is the guest we await. Rabbi Yuzpeh Shamash brings another reason why it is called Kos Shel Eliyahu:
because it is a segulah to say “Eliyahu” to get rid of mazikim [destructive forces], and we do various things on the seder night to chase away the mazikim.[9]
In 1985, a manuscript of Rav Yaakov Emden was printed in the Kovetz Kerem Shlomo of Bobov. This manuscript contained Rav Yaakov Emden’s notes on the Pesach Meuvin of Rabbi Chaim Benveniste. He says that there is a minhag to have a Kos Shel Eliyahu but not to pour leftover wine in a cup for him—that would not be an honor for him at all. He points out that the Chazal say not to drink from a cup that someone else drank from.[10]

 

Additional Reasons for Kos Shel Eliyahu
 
Rabbi Aron of Metz (1754-1836) suggested that the origin of the Kos Shel Eliyahu is that on Pesach the head of the household does not pour for everyone. Therefore, out of convenience, people would leave a big cup in the middle of the table for everyone to take from. Once the children started asking what the cup was for, they would tell them it was a cup for Eliyahu Hanavi.[11]
Rabbi Mordechai Gimpel Yaffe suggests an original possibility for the Kos Shel Eliyahu. The halacha is that when one makes a seudah he should leave over a little space empty as a zecher l’churban. He says that on Pesach, a glass of wine was left over as a zecher l’churban. It was called Kos Shel Eliyahu to represent the hope that Eliyahu Hanavi would come quickly to correct the Churban.[12]
Rabbi Shimon Falk asks the following question: The halacha is that one cannot bring a full loaf of bread to the table before bentching, since it looks like one is doing it for some form of idol worship. So why isn’t it a problem to prepare a glass of wine for
Eliyahu Hanavi? Rabbi Falk suggests that it this might the reason we do not find any mention of a Kos Shel Eliyahu in the Gemara, but today, when there is no one amongst the goyim who worship in this manner, it’s not a problem.[13]

 

Maharal Haggadah
 
In 1905, in Warsaw, Rabbi Yudel Rosenberg printed the Haggadah of the Maharal which he claimed was from a manuscript of the Maharal’s son in law. In this Haggadah there is a lengthy discussion of the number of glasses of wine one should drink at the seder. The Maharal concludes that one has to drink five cups of wine and that this fifth cup is the Kos Shel Eliyahu.[14] If this is correct we have an early source for Kos Shel Eliyahu, the Maharal, and based on his words we would have many more early sources, since various Rishonim listed by the Maharal mentions the fifth glass of wine.
However, it has been proven that, although Rabbi Rosenberg was a tremendous talmid chacham, he was also a forger. He may have possibly had good intentions behind his forgeries.[15] His most notable forgery was the story about the Maharal’s golem.[16]
Rabbi Avraham Benidict devoted two articles to proving that this Haggadah is a forgery.[17] One of the points he discusses relates to our topic. In 1582, the Mahral publised his work about Pesach and the seder titled Gevuros Hashem. In this work, the Maharal writes that one may drink a fifth cup, but he doesn’t connect the fifth cup to Kos Shel Eliyahu.

 

The Fifth Cup of Wine
 
However, whether or not the Maharal said that one has to drink a fifth cup, and whether or not he says that this is the Kos Shel Eliyahu, there are others that make a connection between the fifth cup and Kos Shel Eliyahu. A small introduction is needed. The Mishnah at the beginning of Arvei Pesachim says that even a poor person has to have four cups of wine at the seder. Later on, the Mishna and Gemara discuss exactly when the cups should be poured and drunk. The Gemara (119a) says that Reb Tarfon held that the fourth cup should be drunk after we say Hallel Hagadol. Many Geonim and Rishonim interpret this to be referring to a fifth cup of wine. In 1950 Rabbi Menachem Kasher printed a booklet collecting all the Geonim and Rishonim that deal with this issue and he showed that many held that one should, but does not have to, drink a fifth cup of wine.[18] It is worth noting that in Teiman[19] and in Italy,[20] many people drink a fifth cup of wine at the seder because of this. None of the sources that Rav Kasher collected tie this fifth cup to the Kos Shel Eliyahu.
Some bring in the name of the Gra,[21] others in the name of Rabbi Ephraim Zalman Margolis,[22] an interesting explanation for the development of the Kos Shel Eliyahu. There is an argument in the Gemara in Pesachim (119a) whether one needs to drink the fifth glass of wine. There is no final halacha given. Because we are not sure what to do, we prepare a cup of wine, but do not drink
it. The reason it is called Kos Shel Eliyahu is that Eliyahu is going to come and tell us what the din is.[23]
So according to this Gra, Kos Shel Eliyahu is not really a new concept. It always existed, as the numerous sources that Rav Kasher collected demonstrate, but it was not called Kos Shel Eliyahu.
Many times we have different versions of something said over in the name of the Gra. Sometimes that is because things were added to what he actually said. In this case, one version has the Gra saying this idea a bit differently, that the opinion in the Gemara that one should drink a fifth cup of wine was Reb Eliyahu, so the fifth cup is called Kos Shel Eliyahu after him. This version concludes that this reason was revealed to the Vilna Gaon because his name was Eliyahu, as well. The problem with this version is that as far as we know there was no Tanna or Amorah with the name Eliyahu and that the person who said to drink a fifth cup of wine was Reb Tarfon.[24]
Be that as it may, it is likely that there are early sources for a fifth cup of wine at the seder and at some point its name became Kos Shel Eliyahu. But none of these explanations (except for that of Rav Moshe Chagiz) tie the cup to Eliyahu coming to the seder.

 

The Custom of Opening the Door
 
There is a custom of many that before we begin saying Shefoch Chamascha someone opens the door. What is the source for this minhag? One of the earliest sources of keeping the door open the whole night of Pesach is found in the Geonim. Rav Nissim Gaon says that one should be careful to leave open the doors the whole night.[25] The Manhig explains that this is because the night of Pesach is Leil Shimurim and if Eliyahu will come the door will be open and we would be able to run and greet him.[26] The Rama writes in the Darchei Moshe that because of this we open the door when saying Shefoch Chamascha, to show that we believe in Hashem and that Moshiach should come.[27] So it is clear from this that there is some connection between Shefoch Chamascha and Moshiach coming, but there is no mention in the Geonim and Rishonim that Eliyahu comes when we open the door. Rather it is understood to be a preparation for his eventual coming. It is worth pointing out that not everyone said Shefoch Chamascha[28]
and that there are many different versions of what is said by Shefoch Chamascha.[29]
Rabbi Yosef Hann Norlingen (1570-1637) writes in Yosef Ometz (first printed in 1723) that in Frankfurt there was a custom that when the door was opened by the head of the house at Shefoch Chamascha someone would come in the door, to show our belief that Moshiach will come.[30]
However, Rabbi Yair Chaim Bachrach of Worms writes in Mekor Chaim that the minhag that some had to have the form of a person appear when the door was opened at Shefoch Chamascha was not proper.[31]

 

Woodcuts and Pictures From Early Haggadahs
 
Some have claimed that there is no basis for a connection between Shefoch Chamascha and Eliyahu coming to the seder. However, as I will demonstrate, this is not so. Some of the earliest Haggadahs printed include many woodcuts and pictures of various aspects of the seder. These Haggadahs are a great resource to help find early sources of how various things were done at the seder.[32] Regarding Eliyahu Hanavi coming to the seder, Professor Sperber noted[33] that in a few of these Haggadahs there are pictures by Shefoch Chamascha of a man on a donkey in some of them he is being led by someone, for example, in the Prague Haggadah printed by Gershon Cohen in 1527.[34] The pictures were updated in a Haggadah printed in Prague in 1560. Another early Haggadah that has such pictures by Shefoch Chamascha can be found in the Haggadah printed in Mantuvah in 1550.[35] Yosef Guttman collected fifteen illustrated Haggadah manuscripts from the fifteenth century which all show a man on a donkey by Shefoch Chamascha.[36] From all this evidence it is clear that already a few hundred years ago there
was a belief that when the door is opened by Shefoch Chamascha that there is a connection to Eliyahu Hanavi and Moshiach.
Mantua 1550:
Prague 1556:
Prague 1590:

 

 

Sleeping Near the Kos Shel Eliyahu
 
In 1958, Rabbi Yosef Avidah wrote a small work devoted to gathering all the known information about the Kos Shel Eliyahu. He makes the following interesting observation. Rabbi Moshe Chagiz writes that the custom was that the head of the house slept near the Kos Shel Eliyahu the whole night but he does not say why. He suggests that the reason for this was similar to the reason for sleeping with the door unlocked to show we eagerly await Eliyahu’s and Moshiach’s arrival. He goes further to show that there is an early source for this minhag. The Leket Yosher writes that his Rebbe, Reb Yisroel Isserlin, author of the Terumas Hadeshen,
used to sleep on Pesach on the bed that he leaned on during the meal and he does not know what his reason for this was.[37] Rabbi Avidah suggests that he was sleeping there to remind himself of the concept that on Pesach night we show that we eagerly await Moshiach.[38]
It is interesting to note that the Likutei Chaver from Rabbi Chaim Plaut, a talmid of the Chasam Sofer, writes that the Chasam Sofer would keep the cup the entire night and use it for Kiddush the next morning.[39] This would seem to have a connection to the same idea.
However it is worth pointing out that these don’t point to a connection between Kos Shel Eliyahu and Shefoch Chamascha.
 

 

Opening the Door and Zugos
 
Another nice possibility given to explain the opening of the door by Shefoch Chamascha is from the Bais Halevi. The Rama says we open the door to show that it’s Leil Shimurim. The Bais Halevi comments that according to this it would make more sense to open the door at the beginning of the seder not at the end specifically when we say Kol dichfin yesev v’yachul ?[40] He answers that the Gemara in Pesachim (109 b) asks how can there be a halacha to drink four cups of wine if there is a danger to eat or drink things in pairs—which is known as zugos. The Gemara answers since it is Leil Shimurim, there is no danger. So the Bais Halevi says that we specifically open the door when the fourth cup is drunk to explain to the person who would ask why isn’t there a problem of zugos. We show him that it’s not a problem because it is Leil Shimurim as we open the door.[41]

 

Additional Reasons for Opening the Door by Shefoch Chamascha
 
 A similar explanation for the opening of the door specifically by Shefoch Chamascha is suggested by Rabbi Yosef Zechariah Stern. He says the Gemara in Pesachim says another way that there is no problem of zugos is if one opens the door to the street. So that is why we open the door specifically at this point in the seder.[42]
Others suggest the reason for the opening of the door by Shefoch Chamascha was to show the gentile neighbors that the accusations against the Jews about using blood of Christians and the like are false.[43] Rabbi Shmule Ruzuvski suggested that the
possible reason why the door is opened by Shefoch Chamascha is that when we used to eat the Korban Pesach the halacha
is that one cannot take any of it out of the house so they used to lock the door. After bentching, they would go to the roof to say Hallel, so they opened the door.[44]
A Very Original Explanation for this Custom of Eliyahu Hanavi and the Seder
 
One possible explanation of why Eliyahu Hanavi is associated with the seder could be the following: Rabbi Yuzpeh Shamash writes[45] that on Pesach night we say Eliyahu and Moshiach will come because mazikin run away from a place where they recite Eliyahu’s name. He says that because of this some make a picture of Eliyahu and Moshiach for the children so that the children seeing it will say “Eliyahu,” causing the mazikin to disappear.[46] Interestingly enough he writes that this could also be the reason it is called Kos Shel Eliyahu to get rid of the mazikin.[47] According to all this, what lies behind saying Eliyahu’s name at the seder is simply a desire to get rid of mazikin.
Earlier I mentioned the Bais Halevi and others who say that the opening of the door at the seder by Shefoch Chamascha is to get rid of mazikin. According to Rabbi Yuzpeh Shamsash this was the also reason some used to draw pictures of Eliyahu and Moshiach.

 

Eliyahu Actually Comes
 
There are quite a number of stories concerning Eliyahu at the seder just to list some of them:
 The Yismach Moshe once sent some of his chassdim to eat the seder with the Chasam Sofer. When they returned they told him that \in the middle something strange happened. A farmer came in. He drank a cup of wine that the Chasam Sofer gave him and then the Chasam Sofer drank from the cup after him. The Yismach Moshe told them that this was Eliyahu Hanavi.[48]
The Chiddushei HaRim once was speaking about the greatness of the Nodeh B’Yehuda. He said that when the Noda B’Yehuda would say Shefoch Chamascha he would escort Eliyahu Hanavi all the way to the street. The Noda B’Yehuda said, “It’s not that I actually see him, but rather \that I believe so strongly that he does come to everyone, and this emunah is better than gilui Eliyahu![49]
Rabbi Yitchock Weiss writes that Rabbi Shneur Lublin, author of the Shut Toras Chesed, did not allow anyone to eat at his seder,
He also told said that Eliyahu or a messenger comes to every great person on the night of the seder.[50]
The Belzer Rebbe would great Eliyahu when he opened the door by Shefoch Chamascha.[51]
 
Rabbi Yitchock Weiss writes that Rabbi Chaim Gottlieb of Stropkov would be visited by Eliyahu Hanavi at the seder. Many
wanted to come to see this so they asked him permission to come. He answered, “Why not?” While they were there, they fell into a deep sleep until the seder was over.[52]

 

Conclusion
 
In conclusion there are definitely early sources that talk about a fifth cup of wine at the seder. According to some, this fifth cup at some point started being called Kos Shel Eliyahu. Starting from the late 1400s we find that people would pour a special kos, and call it Kos Shel Eliyahu.  I have shown that there are early sources for opening the door at Shefoch Chamascha that give various reasons. I also showed that there are many drawings by Shefoch Chamascha of a man on a donkey and Eliyahu found in the early manuscripts and printed illustrated Haggadahs. This would logically lead us to conclude that there was a belief that he did indeed come to visit when the door is opened and I offered another possible explanation for all this. May we be zocheh for Eliyahu to come with Moshiach this year at the Leil Haseder.

NOTES

[1] For sources on this topic that helped me prepare this article See Rabbi Yosef Zecharia Stern, Zecher Yehosef, pp. 39-40; Rabbi Moshe Weingarten, Seder Ha-Aruch 1 (1991), pp.576-582; Shmuel & Zev Safrai,Haggadas Chazal, (1998), pp.177-178; Rabbi Gedaliah Oberlander, Minhag Avosenu Beydenu, 2, pp. 392-409; Rabbi Tuviah Freund, Moadim Li-Simcha (Pesach), pp. 358-376; Pardes Eliezer, pp. 180-243. These collections of sources were useful but it is worth noting that much earlier than all these collections many of the sources on this topic were already collected by Rabbi Yosef Avidah in 1958, in a small work called Koso
Shel Eliyahu. As I mentioned a few weeks ago I recently reprinted this work with additions from the author’s copy. Another earlier useful article on the topic is from Yehudah Rosenthal, Mechkarim 2, pp. 645- 651. For general useful collections of material related to Eliyahu Hanavi see the two volume work Romot Gilod from Rabbi Eliezer Veisfish, (2005) and the earlier work of Aharon Weiner, The Prophet Elijah in the Development of Judaism (1978). I would like to thank my good friend Yisroel Israel for help with the beautiful pictures to accompany this article.
[2] I hope to return to all this in my forthcoming article in Hebrew on this topic.
[3] Chok Yaakov, end of Siman 480.
[4] Pesach Meuvin (1997), p. 124, #182.
[5] See also the end of his Shut Shtei Lechem. Rabbi Freund (above note 1), p. 359 was apparently not aware of where this piece was printed first. This explanation is also brought in Rabbi Dovid Zecut, Zecher Dovid, Mamar Rishon, Chapter 26, pp. 174-175. See Elisheva Carlbach, The Pursuit of Heresy, (1990) esp. pp. 247-249.
[6] I hope to return to this topic in a future article.
[7] See Hagadat Baer Miriam of Rabbi Reven Margolis (2002), p. 90-91 where Rabbi Magolis brings a similar idea from the Toras Emes.
[8] Moriah, 13, (1984), n. 146-147, p. 17. See Chidushei MaHarz Binga, (1985), p.195.
[9] Minhaghim De-Kehal VerMeizah, (1988), p. 85-86.
[10] Kovetz Kerem Shlomo, 76 (1985) p. 7
[11] Meorei Or, Pesachim. On this work see the important article of Yakov Speigel, Yerushaseinu 3 (2009, pp. 269-309.
[12] Techeles Mordechaei in Keser Kehunah, (2004), p. 40. See also his Hagadas Mordechai, p. 75.
[13] Shut Shem Mishimon, (2003) 2, pp. 100-101.
[14] Hagdah Shel Pesach, Loshon Limudim , 1905, pp. 65-66.
[15] See Meir Bar Ilan, Alei Sefer 19 (2001), pp. 173-184.
[16] On all this see the excellent work from Dr. Shnayer Leiman, 2004, The Adventure of the Maharal of Prague in London. See also E. Yassif, Ha-golem Me-Prauge U- Massim Niflayim Acharyim, (1991).
[17] See Moriah 14 (1985) n. 3-4, pp. 102- 112; Moriah 16 (1989) n. 9-10, pp. 124- 130. See also Y. Yudolov, Otzar Hagadas, p. 171, #2299; Rabbi Shlomo Fischer, Tzefunot 3 (1989) p. 69.
[18] Kos Chemeshi, Later reprinted in the back of Haggadah Shelimah, pp. 161-177. See also Yosef Tabori, Pesach Dorot, (1996), pp. 325-341; Shmuel & Zev Safrai,Haggadas Chazal, (1998), pp. 40-41.
[19] See Rabbi Yosef Kapach, Ha-Liechos Teiman (1968), pp. 22-23. See also Rabbi Y. Ritzabi, Aggadata Depischa, (1996), pp. 388-390; Moshe Garba, Mechkarim BeSidurei Yeiman 1 (1989), pp. 139-141
[20] See Machzor Roma (1485), p. 73b [in the facsimile edition of this Machzar printed in 2012]. See also Sefer Ha-Tadir, (1992), p. 217.
[21] See the excellent article of Rabbi Y. Avidah in Hatzofeh (1958) which I
recently reprinted in his Koso Shel Eliyahu pp. 53-57where he explains why he does not believe that the Gra actually said this idea.
[22] Hagdah Shel Pesach shel Haflah.
[23] See Likutei Tzvi, p. 28; Pineinim MeShulchan Ha-Gra, pp. 112-113; Hamoer Ha-godol, pp. 126-127. See also Rabbi Yeruchem Fishel Perlow in his notes to the Chidushel Dinim Mei-Hilchos Pesach, pp.29-30 who gives this explanation himself. See also A. Hopfer, Ha-Tzofeh Le-chochmas Yisroel, 11 (1927), pp. 211-21; Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, Shalmei Moed, p. 404.
[24] This version appears in the beautiful Haggadah Beis Avrhom- Beis Aron (p.117b) where the author heard this from The Belzer Rebbe T”l in the name of the Gra. On all this see Yaakov Speigel, Yeshurun 7 (2000), p. 728-730. See also Shut Ber Sheva, end of siman 73; Rabbi Yosef Zecharia Stern, Mamar Tahaluchos HaAgdot, p. 26.
[25] Rav Nissim Goan, (Abramson) p. 278.
[26] Sefer Ha-Manhig, 2. p. 423-424. See Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisroel, 3, pp. 81-82.
[27] For a discussion of the opening of the door see Rabbi Yosef Avidah, Koso Shel Eliyahu, pp. 4-8. See also his work Bershis Be-mlitzah Ha-ivrit, (1938), pp. 40-43. For an early illustration of the opening of the door at Shefoch Chamascha see Therese and Mendel Metzger, Jewish Life in the Middle ages, (1982),p. 380.
[28] For example, in Italy they did not say it. See Machzor Roma (1485); Machzor Moscovitz, (2005), p.29. See Yitzchack Yudolov, Kovetz Mechkarim Al Machzor Ki-Minhag Bnei Roma (2012), pp. 17-18.
[29] See Daniel Goldshmidt, Haggadah Shel Pesach (1960), pp. 62-64; Haggadah Sheilmah, pp. 177-180. See also Yosef Tabori, Mechkarim Betoldos Halacha (forthcoming), pp. 370-389; Shmuel & Zev Safrai,Haggadas Chazal, (1998), pp.174-175.
[30] Yosef Ometz , p. 172, #786.
[31] Mekor Chaim, end of Siman 480.
[32] See Cecil Roth, Areshet 3 (1961, pp. 7-30, especially, pp. 14-1. See also Richard Cohen, Jewish Icons, (1998), pp. 90-100; U. Schubert, Emunos HAsefer HaYehudit (1993); Marc Epstein, The Medieval Haggadah: Art, Narrative, and Religious Imagination (2011), especially, pp. 80-84.
[33] Minhaghei Yisroel 4, pp. 168-170.
[34] On this haggadah see Y. Yudolov, Otzar Haggadas, p. 2, # 7-8. See also Rabbi Charles Wengrov, Haggadah and Woodcut, (1967), pp, 69-71; the introduction to the 1965 reprint of  his Haggadah; Yosef Yerushalmi, Haggadah and History, plate 13; See also Yosef Tabori, Mechkarim Betoldos Halacha (forthcoming), pp. 461-474.
[35] On this rare Haggadah see Y. Yudolov, Otzar Haggadas, p. 3, # 14.
[36] The Messiah at the Seder—A Fifteenth Century Motif in Jewish Art, pp. 29-38 printed in Sefer Rephael Mahaler (1974). See also his Hebrew manuscript Painting (1978), pp. 98-99. See also the Illustration of the Washington Haggadah 1478 in Betzalel Narkiss, Hebrew Illuminated manuscripts, pp. 140-141,34.
[37] Leket Yosher, p. 86.
[38] Koso Shel Eliyahu, pp. 12-13.
[39] Likutei Chaver Ben Chaim, 5 (1883), p. 110 b.
[40] The truth is as previously mentioned originally that was indeed the custom.
[41] Bais Ha-Levi, Parshas Bo, p. 15. The Chasam Sofer says this same idea in his notes to Shulchan Orach, 480.
[42] Rabbi Yosef Zecharia Stern, Zecher Yehosef, p. 39. See also Mishna Zicron (1923), p. 138; Rabbi Tzvi Farber, Kerem Hatzvi, p. 79. See the comments of the Dvar Yehoshuah on this printed in Hagadat Baer Miriam of Rabbi Reven Margolis (2002), p. 91.
[43] Likutei Tzvi, p. 29; Rabbi Shlomo Schick, Siddur Rashban, p. 32; Hagaddas Ha-Malbim (1883), p.50 (editor’s note).
[44] Mikrai Kodesh (Harri), p. 548.
[45] Rabbi Oberlander and Freund (above note 1) incorrectly thought that this comment is from the Chavos Yair.
[46] Minhaghim De-Kehal VerMeizah, (1988), p. 87. Rabbi Gedaliah Oberlander, Minhag Avosenu Beydenu, Rabbi Tuviah Freund, Moadim Li-Simcha, and Pardes Eliezer, all quote this piece of Rabbi Shamash But they did not realize what he was really saying.
[47] Minhaghim De-Kehal VerMeizah, p. 86.
[48] Orchos Hasofer, p. 115.
[49] Or Pnei Yitchak, p. 16.
[50] Elef Kesav, p. 21.
[51] Elef Kesav, p. 72.
[52] Elef Kesav, p. 97.


A Few Comments Regarding The First Woodcut Border Accompanying The Prague 1526 Haggadah

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A Few Comments Regarding The First Woodcut Border Accompanying The Prague 1526 Haggadah

The Prague 1526 edition of the Haggadah is one of the most important illustrated haggadot ever published.  It is perhaps the earliest printed illustrated haggadah for a Jewish audience and served as a model for many subsequent illustrated haggadot.[1] The earliest printed haggadah with illustration was published in 1512 in Latin and for a non-Jewish audience. That haggadah contains six woodcuts, and was intended as a response to the infamous anti-Semite Pfefferkorn’s screeds against Judaism.[2]The woodcut accompanying the first page shows three Jews around the seder who have four cups in front of them.  Although the Talmud explicitly states that one is not required to have four distinct cups of wine, presumably the image is a crude method of indicating the four-fold nature of the wine during the seder rather than prescribing custom.

The Prague 1526 edition was published by Gershom and his brother Gronom Katz on Sunday, 26th of Tevet 5287 or December 30, 1526.[3] This detailed publication information does not appear on the title page, rather it appears at the end of the book and is  referred to as a colophon.  The colophon is a manuscript convention that was incorporated into earlier printed books. The Prague 1526 edition does not have a title page at all.  At that time, the usage of the title page was only in its early stages.[4]

  1.          The Earliest Hebrew Title Pages

As with non-Hebrew titles, the title page developed over time, both in terms of content as well as usage.[5]   The first Hebrew title page is that of the Sefer Rokeah published in Fano in 1505.[6] But that title page is really one of the more basic forms of the title page, known as a “label title page” providing only the title and author and no other ornamentation or information.[7] In that same year, an edition of Abarbanel’s Zevah Pesach was published in Constantinople.  This edition was the first to contain a border with the title and author, but no place or date of publication.[8] The first Hebrew book containing all the elements of a traditional title page, border, title, author, place and date is likely the 1511 Pesaro edition of the Talmud published by Soncino.[9]

Traditionally, the Hebrew title page is referred to as a “sha’ar” or gate.  The theory behind this description is that many title page borders are comprised of “gates,” the most common are the pillars that adorn many Hebrew books and are assumed to be those at Saint Peter’s Basillica in Rome.  Their inclusion in Hebrew books is perhaps linked to the (discredited) notion that the Catholic Church maintains certain portions of the Jewish Temple, and these pillars were actually in the Temple.  The first Hebrew book to use an architectural border is Daniel Bomberg’s edition of the Jerusalem Talmud published in 1522.[10]

  1. Illustrations in Hebrew Books

Returning to the Prague 1526 haggadah, as mentioned previously, this edition was copiously illustrated, including the first page of the book. This is not the first example of Hebrew printed illustrations.  The earliest illustration to appear in a Hebrew book is that of a lulav and a handful of other explanatory images accompanying the Rome edition of the Sefer Mitzvot Gedolot dated to before 1480.[11]

 

The first fully illustrated Hebrew book was published in the incunabula period as well, it is Isaac ben Solomon Ibn Sahula’s Meshal ha-Qadmoni, printed in Italy, circa 1491, by Gershom Soncino.[12]

The border surrounding the first page of the Prague 1526 incorporates both Jewish as well as non-Jewish elements.  First, it is obvious that a Jew had a hand in the border as, in the inset, it displays someone performing bedikat hametz (searching for the bread) where he is using the traditional implements of a candle and chicken feather.  The outside border is less Jewish, and as many have noted, appears to be a copy of Italian/German renaissance borders.  The two most likely candidates for models for Prague are the border first used in the 1518 edition of Sacri Doctoris by Raymond Lulli (available here) or a border first used in 1519 for Paolo Ricci’s, Lepida et litere in Augsburg and reused in an Augsburg 1522 edition of Erasmus, Ad reverendum (available here).  Although we cannot pinpoint exactly which of these, if any, served as a model, what is clear is that among the images included in this border are bare-breasted women.

The use of bare breasted women to illustrate the haggadah is not limited to Prague. Both Charles Wengrov and Elliot Horowitz have pointed to earlier manuscript antecedents for Prague’s usage of such illustrations.[13] Aside from the printed example of the Prague 1526 Haggadah, this convention continued in manuscripts as well illuminated after 1526.  There are at least four such 16th century examples.[14] Additionally, and contrary to Horwitz’s contention that Spanish Jews were less accepting of such displays,[15] the Sarajevo Haggadah, which originated in Spain around 1350, includes two panels of Adam and Eve both depicting a bare-breasted Eve.

 

Likewise, the Golden Haggadah, 1320 Spanish manuscript includes the same form of illustration of the Adam and Eve scene.  Additionally, the Golden Haggadah includes images of nude bathers when it depicts Miriam standing from afar to see what will become of baby Moses.[16]

III.            Censorship in Modern Reprints of Prague 1526

            These historical antecedents notwithstanding, recent reprints of Prague 1526 have not been as accepting.  This initial border has been altered to airbrush and removes the bare breasts.  In 1989, a facsimile edition of Prague 1526 was published with the commentary of the Prague rabbi, Rabbi Yehuda Loew (Maharal). This border has been “touched up.”

Similarly, in 1998, a colorized facsimile edition of Prague 1526 was published.  Although the publishers took great pains to provide color where before there was black and white, they also altered this border.

Oddly enough, although they found this image offensive, they decided to reproduce it in two other places in this reprint even though this image only appears once in the original. Here is the original:

Not only is the first border altered, but other instances of bare breasts have been removed; most notably the image accompanying the verse from Ezekiel 16:7 “I made you grow like a plant of the field. You grew up and developed and became the most beautiful of jewels. Your breasts were formed and your hair grew, you who were naked and bare.”

(As discussed previously here a later, Venice 1609, edition also altered this page.)  Again in 2001, a facsimile of Prague 1526 “published by the Religious Council of Efrat in honor of the settlement’s twentieth anniversary . . . . two illustrations are surreptitiously deleted: the bare breasted woman” accompanying the verse from Ezekiel.[17] Most recently, in 2009, the airbrushed image of this woman was reproduced in The Schechter Haggadah: art, history; commentary.[18]

[1] There may be an earlier illustrated print haggadah, however, only 12 leaves of this haggadah are extant making it difficult to date (or identify the country of origin).  For a bibliography regarding this fragment haggadah see Y. Yudlov, Otzar haHaggadot, Magnes Press, Jerusalem:1997, entry 9; and most recently, Eva Frojmovic, “From Naples to Constantinople: The Aesop Workshop’s Woodcuts in the Oldest Illustration Printed Haggadah,” in The Library, Sixth Series, Vol. XVIII, No. 2, June:1996, pp. 87-109.

[2]  See R. Cohen, Jewish Icons: Art & Society in Modern Europe, University of California Press, CA:1998, pp. 21-22; see also Y.H. Yerushalmi, Haggadah; History: A Panorama in Facsimile, Philidelphia:1978, plates 6-8.

[3] Aside from the edition discussed herein, there is at least one copy of another haggadah that is also published by Cohen in Prague that same year.  While both versions are substantially similar, some of the images and borders have been changed.  Relevant for our purposes, is that the image accompanying “Sefokh” which is a full
page border with images of bare breasted women, has been replaced with a more innocuous border found elsewhere in the haggadah.  See Yudlov, Otzar, entry 8; A. Ya’ari, Bibliography of the Passover Haggadah,
Bamberg & Wahrman, Jerusalem:1960, entry 7; Rabbi Charles Wengrov, Haggadah & Woodcut: an Introduction to the Passover Haggadah Completed by Gershom Cohen in Prague, Shulsinger Bros., New York:1967, pp. 78-9.

[4] The first Prague imprint to include a separate title page is in a 1526 edition of Yotzrot published by Cohen.  See Wengrov, Haggadah & Woodcut, p. 82 n.238.

[5] Although, with regard to the adoption of the title page, Jews appear to adopt this convention at or near the time as society at large, that was not the case with other literary advances.  While the majority of the western world adopted the codex and discarded the scroll some time in the third century, the first recorded Jewish reference to the codex does not occur until the late
eighth or the early ninth centuries.  See Anthony Grafton, “From Roll to Codex: A Christian Initiative,” in Crossing Borders, Hebrew Manuscripts as a Meeting-place of Cultures, ed. Piet van Boxel & Sabine Arndt, Bodleian Library:2012, pp. 15-20.

[6] A.M. Habermann, Title Pages of Hebrew Books, Museum of Printing Art, Safed:1969, pp. 8-9.

[7] For a discussion of the development of the title page as well as the different types, i.e., label, border, end-title, see M.M. Smith, The Title-Page its early development 1460-1510, The British Library & Oak Knoll Press, London & Deleware:2000.

[8] See M.J. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus, Brill, Leiden & Boston:2004, vol. I, pp. 6-7.

[9] The border used for the Pesaro Talmuds first appeared in Decachordum Christianum (The Christian Ten String Harpsichord) published in Fano, 1507 by Gershom Soncino.  See M.J. Heller, Printing the Talmud, pp. 104-117  Additionally, see Heller’s discussion, id. p. 113, regarding Soncino’s reuse of the Dechachaordum‘s frames.  In reality, although the frames were originally cut for Decachordum, they were first used on Gershom’s edition of Bahya ibn Pakua’s commentary on the Torah, published four months prior to Decachordum.  See M.J. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus, Brill, Leiden & Boston:2004, vol. I, p. 41; Smith, The Title-Page, supra, pp. 47-59 (discussing the use of the blank title page).

[10]  See A.M. Habermann, “The Jewish Art of the Printed Book,” in Jewish Art, An Illustrated History, ed. Cecil Roth [revised ed. by B. Narkiss], New York Graphic Society Ltd., Connecticut:1971, pp. 167-68.  In Habermann’s earlier work, Title Pages of Hebrew Books, p. 9, he erroneously asserts that the earliest works to include architectural title pages were Soncino’s Melitza le-Maskil and Bomberg’s Tanach, both published in 1524/25.

[11]  See Joshua Bloch, “The Library’s Roman Hebrew Incunabula,” in Hebrew Printing & Bibliography, ed. Charles Berlin, New York:1976, p. 140.  For a description of this work see S. Iakerson, Catalogue of Hebrew Incunabula from the Collection of the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, JTS, New York & Jerusalem:2005, entry 7.

[12] See A.M. Habermann, “The Jewish Art of the Printed Book,” supra, at 169.  Habermann appears to argue that this is first printed Hebrew book containing illustrations, is incorrect. As discussed above, the first was the Rome edition of Sefer Mitzvot Gedolot. He is not alone in this error.  Ursula Schubert makes the same error.  See Ursula Schubert, Jewish Book Art, From the Renaissance until Emancipation, [Hebrew], Kibbutz hami-Uchad, Tel Aviv:1994, p. 27.  Habermann, id., notes that the great Hebrew bibliographer, Mortiz Steinschneider, was tricked with regard to one of the illustrations contained in Meshal
ha-Qadmoni.  Steinschneider, in a discussion about the alleged Christian origins of these illustrations, called attention to the fact that in one of them contains a monk wearing a crucifix. But, in the interim we have learned “that this last embellishment was a
practical joke played by a Christian scholar. . . [the crucifix] having been added by [a later] hand!”  Regarding the history and origins of the images included in Meshal ha-Qadmoni, see César Merchán-Hamann, “Fables from East to West,” in Crossing Borders, pp. 35-44; Ursula Schubert, Jewish Book Art, pp. 27-8.

[13]  Rabbi Charles Wengrov, Haggadah & Woodcut, p. 47 nn.112-13;Elliot Horowitz, “Between Cleanliness and Godliness,” in Tov Elem: Memory, Community & Gender in Medieval & Early Modern Jewish Societies, ed. E. Baumgarten, et al., Bialik Institute, Jerusalem:2011, *38-*39.

[14] Mendel Metzger, La Haggada Enluminée, E.J. Brill:1973, plate LIV, nos. 303-305; Chantily Haggadah, Musée Condé, Ms.
732, fol. 13, reproduced in Index of Jewish Art, eds. B. Narkiss & G. Sed-Rajna, Jerusalem-Paris:1976, vol. I, card no. 36.

[15] Horowitz, “Between Cleanliness,” at *38, (“One suspects that a Spanish Jew coming to Germany in the early 15th century would have been equally surprised to see an image of a naked woman” in a Hebrew manuscript.).

[16]  The Golden Haggadah, ed. Bezalel Narkiss, Pomegranate Artbooks, California:1997, figs. 17 & 24.

[17]  Id. n.37.  Horowitz only notes the 2001 example of censorship of Prague 1526, and apparently is unaware of the earlier
examples.  Additionally, he chastises the Efrat reproduction for erroneously indicating a 1527 publication date.  Efrat is not only in erring regarding the secular date.  The first facsimile edition (Berlin:1925), which includes a scholarly introduction, full title
is:  “Die Pessach Haggadah Des Gerschom Kohen Gedruckt Zu Prag 5287/1527.” Perhaps one can excuse the error as, in reality, it was completed on the eve of 1527, December 30, 1526.

[18] The Schechter Haggadah: Art, History & Commentary, [illustrations selected and annotated by David Golinkin], Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies, Jerusalem:2009, p. 36, fig. 16.1.



Torah mi-Sinai and More

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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

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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.