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The Medical Training and Yet Another (Previously Unknown) Legacy of Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski, zt”l

The Medical Training and
Yet Another (Previously Unknown) Legacy
of Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski, zt”l

by Edward Reichman and Menachem Butler

Rabbi Dr. Edward Reichman is a Professor of Emergency Medicine and Professor in the Division of Education and Bioethics at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine. He writes and lectures widely in the field of Jewish medical ethics.

Mr. Menachem Butler is Program Fellow for Jewish Legal Studies at The Julis-Rabinowitz Program on Jewish and Israeli Law at Harvard Law School. He is an Editor at Tablet Magazine and a Co-Editor at the Seforim Blog.

On erev Shabbat Shira last week, in the course of a typically wide-ranging conversation between the authors of this article, Menachem mentioned that unfortunately Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski was critically ill. As hashgachah would have it, Menachem had happened upon a little-known precious work from 1997, entitled Sefer Ye’omar le-Yaakov u-le-Yisrael, compiled by Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski and comprised of letters written to him by Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky, zt”l (1899-1985), known as the Steipler Gaon and author of the multi-volume work Kehillot Yaakov.[1]

Scion of prominent Hasidic dynasties and related to the current Rebbes of Bobov, Karlin, Klausenberg, Talner, and Skver, Abraham J. Twerski was born in Milwaukee in 1930 to Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Twerski and his wife Devorah Leah (née Halberstam), where he attended public school as a child.[2] After he received his rabbinic ordination from the Hebrew Theological College in Chicago, he began to serve as an assistant rabbi in his father’s congregation in Milwaukee in the 1950s, as Aaron Katz described in his 2015 profile of Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski (“The Wisdom of Peanuts”) at Tablet Magazine. He married Goldie (née Flusberg) in March 1952; and starting that summer, directed the Hebrew School at his father’s congregation Beth Jehudah, as well as officiated religious lifecycle events in his father’s community in Milwaukee. However, as he would later reflect in an interview “after I had practiced as a rabbi for a number of years, I felt I was not fulfilled in my work and — after consultation with the Steipler Gaon — I went to medical school to become a psychiatrist.”

Abraham J. Twerski wrote to the Steipler Gaon and expressed concerns about the propriety of attending medical school as an Orthodox Jew. He would regularly visit Rav Kanievsky at his home in Bnei Brak and corresponded with him by mail, maintaining an ongoing relationship with him until the Steipler’s passing in 1985. That year, a volume of collection of letters entitled Karyana de-Igarta was published, and included, for the first time, two letters that the Steipler Gaon had sent some thirty years earlier to a young Abraham J. Twerski in Milwaukee, who was then seeking his advice regarding his career choice.

The first letter was written at the end of the Summer of 1955 by a twenty-four-year-old Abraham J. Twerski and in this letter the Steipler Gaon addresses the value of making one’s livelihood through a non-rabbinic profession. As to the specific profession, he adds that medicine may be a preferred choice, as it is a mitzvah to learn, and additionally, excluded from the ban on secular knowledge of the Rashba.[3] However, this is on the proviso that the education is provided by proper teachers and in an environment conducive to Torah observance. As this is clearly not the case in a modern university, he offers some general guidelines, culled from the seforim hakedoshim, if not to guarantee, at least to enhance the chances of success: 1) kove’a itim – learn in-depth at least two hours daily; 2) recite all tefillos with a minyan; 3) regular mikva immersion; 4) meticulous Shabbat observance; and 5) a daily musar seder.[4]

The second question Abraham J. Twerski posed, the following year, was more specific to his situation. He inquired whether it was preferrable for him to be a rabbi in a largely non-observant community (he was serving as an assistant rabbi to his father in Milwaukee at that time), which would involve immersion in an irreligious environment with potential negative impact on the Jewish education of his children; or should he choose a medical career, which would allow him to remain in an environment of Torah observance.

Suffice it say, the Steipler Gaon’s tone in this letter is less than supportive of a career in medicine than its predecessor. His written response is unequivocal, “the rabbinate is much preferred” (adifa yoter viyoter). He lists no less than five reasons not to become a physician, relating to the challenges in maintaining Torah observance and modesty, as well as the time commitment, which would preclude Torah study. He adds on a personal note that given his estimation of the exceptional talents of the young Rabbi Twerski, the latter would likely become a highly successful and sought-after physician. As such, he would find no rest from those constantly “knocking on his door” and seeking his consultation. He was particularly concerned about what would happen to his Torah learning and observance in such a case.[5]

Notwithstanding the serious concerns expressed by the Steipler Gaon, and perhaps now better informed of the potential pitfalls, Abraham J. Twerski proceeded to pursue his medical education, as he wrote, “I went to medical school with the Steipler’s blessing and continued an ongoing relationship with him for years.”[6] Their fathers both grew up as friends in Hornsteipel, “and spent their boyhood years together and were on first name terms,” reminisced Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski many years later in a biographical memoir of his Hasidic ancestors.[7]

However, several years into his studies at Marquette University’s medical school, Abraham J. Twerski could no longer afford the tuition.[8] His assistance would come from a most unlikely source, as he would later describe in an interview with the Pittsburgh Quarterly:[9]

By that time, I had several children, so my dad and some members of the congregation helped me to pay for school. I applied for a scholarship through a foundation, but it didn’t come through, so in my third year, I fell two trimesters behind on tuition. One day, I called my wife at lunch as always, and she asked, “What would you do if you had $4,000?” I said, “I’m too busy to talk about fantasies.” She said, “But you really do have $4,000!” I said, “From where?” She said, “From Danny Thomas.” “Who’s Danny Thomas?” She said, “The TV star.” Then she read me an article from The Chicago Sun. Local officials had told Mr. Thomas about a young rabbi who was struggling to get through medical school. Thomas asked, “How much does your rabbi need?” They said, “Four thousand dollars.” He said, “Tell your rabbi he’s got it.”[10] So, I did my internship in general medicine, went to the University of Pittsburgh Psychiatric Institute for three years, and then worked two more years for a state hospital.

While the Steipler Gaon’s assessment of the success of Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski’s medical career was prophetic, his concerns about Torah observance and learning, at least for Dr. Twerski, would turn out to be unfounded. Upon his graduation from medical school several years later, Time Magazine (June 15, 1959) published a brief article about him entitled “Rabbi in White.” It is worth reprinting in its entirety:

Abraham Joshua Twerski, 28, graduated from medical school this week. It was no mean feat, for Twerski is a Jewish rabbi like his father, two uncles, father-in-law, two older brothers and (when they finish their studies) two younger twin brothers. And to keep the Torah as an Orthodox Jew for six years of studies in Milwaukee’s Roman Catholic Marquette University was something like running a sack race, an egg race and an army obstacle course at the same time.

First there was the problem of keeping his religion from growing rusty: he rose each day at 5:30am, put in an hour’s study of the Talmud before early service at Milwaukee’s Beth Jehuda Synagogue, where he is assistant rabbi. Medical school classes began at 8am, and here real complications set in. His full black beard was a sanitary problem in surgery, requiring special snood-like surgical masks. His tallith katan, a small prayer shawl worn by many Orthodox Jews under their shirts, had to be made of cotton instead of wool – which might set off a static spark and ignite the anesthetic in an operating room.

Lectures on Saturday.[11] Religious holidays sometimes required months of advance planning. The nine-day Feast of Tabernacles, for instance, with four days when work is forbidden, fell during a series of lectures before a make-or-break exam in pathology. Abe, as students and professors call him, met the situation by studying by himself all the preceding summer, put himself so far ahead of his class that he could afford to miss the lectures. “I hated like heck to miss them,” he explains, “but I creamed that exam.”

When lectures came on Saturdays – during which Orthodox Jews are forbidden to work, ride in a vehicle or talk on the phone – Abe would have a friend put a sheet of carbon paper under his lecture notes and hope he remembered to use a ballpoint pen. Sabbath restrictions begin on Friday night, just before sundown, and on occasion Fridays only a lucky break in the traffic has saved him from having to abandon his 1952 De Soto and walk the rest of the way home. On Saturdays Abe was not on duty, but sometimes, to follow up on one of the cases he had been observing, he would leave his car in the garage and walk five miles to the hospital and back.

Work on Tishah Be’ab. Abe brought his own kosher food to school every day and ate it in the student lounge, where he also said his midday prayers in a corner, surrounded by chattering fellow students. Hospital duty during the 24-hour fast without food and water at Tishah Be’ab (commemorating the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 A.D.) Dr. Twerski describes as “murder,” and the last six years have left him hollow-eyed and slightly sallow.[12] But he is eagerly looking forward to the next stage: a year of internship in Milwaukee’s Mount Sinai Hospital, followed by a three-year residency in psychiatry.

“Psychiatric training was the motivation for my going into medicine,” he says. “I felt I could be a better adviser to my people and more help to them with their problems.”

The Time Magazine profile of Abraham J. Twerski included just one photograph (wearing “a snood for surgery” over his yarmulke), but members of the Twerski family have shared in recent years nearly a dozen of the other photographs that were taken by George P. Koshollek Jr., a local photographer with The Milwaukee Journal, and later deposited in the LIFE Photo Archive. The following are two photographs of newly-minted physician Abraham J. Twerski, together with his philanthropic patron who supported his medical school studies, the comedian Danny Thomas:

Upon his 1959 graduation from Marquette University Medical School, Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski left his pulpit in Milwaukee and moved with his family to Pittsburgh, where he completed his psychiatric training at the University of Pittsburgh’s Western Psychiatric Institute four years later, and was then named clinical director of the Department of Psychiatry at St. Francis General Hospital in Pittsburgh, supervised by Sisters of the Third Order of St. Francis, where he advanced his expertise for treating addiction. In 1972, Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski founded the Gateway Rehabilitation Center with the Sisters of St. Francis.[13]

Returning to our pre-Shabbat conversation, Menachem suggested that perhaps it might be appropriate for us to study through the 1997 volume of Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski, Sefer Ye’omar le-Yaakov u-le-Yisrael – one of his only Hebrew-language books of more than his eighty-authored volumes published over the past half-century – as a merit for Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski’s complete recovery. Menachem further asked if I would perhaps identify any medically related material that might be significant or previously unknown. Before Shabbat, I identified one particular letter, the final one in the book, which was of medical relevance, and I printed it out for learning, with Rabbi Twerski in mind. The topic: the obligation to prolong the life of a critically ill patient.

Just two days after our conversation, we read of the tragic passing of Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski, whose passing took place on Sunday, Chai Shvat 5781 (January 31, 2021). The nature of the letter from the Steipler Gaon to Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski, and its heretofore unknown origins, compels us to write this brief note l’zecher nishmato (in honor of his memory) and to add yet an additional item to his legacy.

Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski’s astonishing accomplishments, known to the Jewish community worldwide, are primarily in the fields of mental health, self-esteem, and addiction medicine.[14] We will leave it those with expertise in these areas to recall and recount his manifold contributions, including his voluminous literary output.[15] Here we note a contribution, which though indirect, may be on par with respect to its Jewish communal impact as those more widely known.

The Letter

In the introduction to this 230-page-work, Sefer Ye’omar le-Yaakov u-le-Yisrael, published in 1997 by the Kollel Bais Yitzchok on Bartlett Street in Pittsburgh (and with an effusive approbation from Rav Chaim Kanievsky, son of the Steipler Gaon), Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski recounts his unique connection to Rav Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky, the Steipler Gaon. It stemmed back to the city in present-day Ukraine called Hornsteipel, to which they both trace their roots.[16] Rav Kanievsky had lived there in his youth and the appellation “the Steipler” is derived from the name of the town. Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski, though born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin is a direct descendant of Rebbe Yaakov Yisrael Twerski of Cherkas, the founder of the Hornsteipel Hasidic dynasty, which originated in that city.[17] His father was named Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Twerski and was known both as the Hornsteipler Rebbe, and as the Milwaukee Rebbe.[18]

The last letter of this volume presents a medical halakhic query Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski posed to the Steipler Gaon in the Summer of 1973 about his ailing father. “May a son administer an injection to his ill father?” Despite the fact that Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski was a physician, and injections were part of his clinical scope of practice, he was acutely aware of the potential halakhic ramification of something as simple as an injection. An injection may cause bodily injury, and it is Biblically prohibited for a son to cause a wound to his father.[19] Rav Kanievsky answered that it would be permitted as long as there are no other options: “On the matter of delivering an injection to one’s father, as it may cause a wound, the law is found in Yoreh De’ah #241:3, that when no one else is available, it is permitted … .”[20]

It appears however that between the sending of the query and the completion of the response, Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski’s father passed away, as Rav Kanievsky offers condolences: “Behold, I who am bereft of good deeds [an allusion to the introduction to the High Holiday Musaf prayer recited by the chazzan] join in your great sorrow upon the passing of the honorable, great rabbi of the Hornsteipel dynasty. May God comfort you among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem, and may his memory be a blessing for eternity.”[21]

It is the following paragraph, which includes a general comment about end-of-life issues, to which we draw your attention:

“Regarding the principle that one should do everything possible to prolong the life of the ill patient [even if he is in a terminal state (chayei sha’ah)]. In truth I also heard such a notion in my youth, and I do not know if this derives from a ‘bar samcha’ (authoritative source). In my opinion, this requires serious analysis…”

As I [ER] read these words, they were familiar to me. This letter appears in the Steipler Gaon’s collection of letters entitled Karyana de-Igarta,[22] though the questioner is not identified. It is only from this work of their correspondences that we learn that Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski is the author of the query!

It is not a lengthy halakhic analysis. In fact, the Steipler Gaon goes on to cite only two sources. The citations relate to the passage in Shulhan Arukh, Yoreh De’ah #339 regarding the treatment of a ‘gosses’, one whose death is imminent. Yet this pronouncement of Rav Kanievsky’s on the approach to the patient at the end of life may possibly be his most cited reference on any medical halakhic topic. Moreover, it is one of the more frequently cited sources in contemporary halakhic discussions on the end of life.

In the Modern era, with the likes of respirators and antibiotics, we now have the ability to prolong life to an extent not imaginable in the past. Must we utilize the entire armamentarium of medicine to prolong life in every circumstance, despite any associated suffering? There are some, such as Rav Eliezer Waldenberg, zt”l, who would answer in the affirmative.[23] Others, like Rav Moshe Feinstein, zt”l, allow for circumstances to refrain from aggressive care.[24] This debate has been the substance of halakhic discussions on end-of-life care in our generation.[25]

For someone of the stature of Rav Kanievsky’s to write that the notion to prolong life in all circumstances and at all costs may not derive from a “bar samcha” (authoritative source) is nothing short of revelational. This statement has guided many a rabbinic authority in their general approach to the treatment of the patient at the end-of-life and has certainly been part of the thought process of countless practical halakhic decisions.

It appears that this noteworthy contribution of Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski, zt”l to medical halakhic discourse, albeit indirect, has gone largely unnoticed. He is not only to be credited for his legendary contributions to broadening the possibilities of mental health in the Jewish community and beyond,[26] but he is also responsible for eliciting this letter of Rav Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky, which has informed and guided halakhic-decision-making at the ‘end-of-life’ in the Modern era.

Sadly, we now invoke the same sentiment that the Steipler Gaon expressed above about the loss of another great rabbinic leader and member of the Hornsteipler dynasty:

May his memory be a blessing for eternity.

Notes:

[1] See Marc B. Shapiro, “The Tamim: Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky (‘The Steipler’),” in Benjamin Brown and Nissim Leon, eds., The Gedolim: Leaders Who Shaped the Israeli Haredi Jewry (Jerusalem: Magnes, 2017), 663-674 (Hebrew). A full biographical treatise on The Steipler Gaon along the lines of the magisterial scholarly work of The Hazon Ish, in Benjamin Brown, The Hazon Ish: Halakhist, Believer and Leader of the Haredi Revolution (Jerusalem: Magnes, 2011; Hebrew) remains a scholarly desideratum.
[2] In a December 25, 2020 email to Menachem Butler, Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski clarified some important details of an anecdote from when he participated in the Christmas play at his Milwaukee public school in his childhood. He wrote here:

That’s not quite the way it was. The week after the play, my mother called the teacher, to meet her. The teacher said, ‘I knew that Mrs. Twerski would reprimand me for putting Abraham in the Xmas play. But all she wanted to know was whether Abraham was self-conscious because he was shorter than the other children.’ I said, ‘I thought you were going to reprimand me for putting Abraham in the Xmas play.’ Mrs. Twerski said ‘If what we have given him at home is not enough to prevent an effect of a Xmas play, then we have failed completely.’

[3] For an overview of the controversy, see David Berger, “Judaism and General Culture in Medieval and Early Modern Times,” in Cultures in Collision and Conversation: Essays in the Intellectual History of the Jews (Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2011), 21-116, esp. 70-78. See also Joseph Shatzmiller, “Between Abba Mari and Rashba: The Negotiations That Preceded the Ban of Barcelona (1303-1305),” Studies in the History of the Jewish People and the Land of Israel, vol. 3 (1973): 121-137 (Hebrew); David Horwitz, “The Role of Philosophy and Kabbalah in the Works of Rashba,” (unpublished MA thesis, Yeshiva University, 1986); David Horwitz, “Rashba’s Attitude Towards Science and Its Limits,” Torah u-Madda Journal, vol. 3 (1991-1992): 52-81; and Marc Saperstein, “The Conflict over the Ban on Philosophical Study, 1305: A Political Perspective,” in Leadership and Conflict: Tensions in Medieval and Early Modern Jewish History and Culture (Oxford: Littman Library, 2014), 94-112.
[4] Avraham Yeshaya Kanievsky, Karyana de-Igarta: Letters of Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky, vol. 1 (Bnei Brak: privately published, 1985), 101-103, no. 86 (Hebrew), dated August 31, 1955.
[5] Avraham Yeshaya Kanievsky, Karyana de-Igarta: Letters of Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky, vol. 1 (Bnei Brak: privately published, 1985), 72-74, no. 66 (Hebrew), dated April 5, 1956.
[6] Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski, “Who is Honored? He Who Honors Others” (Pirkei Avos 4:1) at TorahWeb.org.
[7] See Abraham J. Twerski, The Zeide Reb Motele: The Life of the Tzaddik Reb Mordechai Dov of Hornosteipel (Brooklyn: Mesorah Publications, 2002), 11.

In 1965, Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski visited Bnei Brak and requested that he be permitted to take a photograph of Rav Kanievsky. After sharing a story about how Rav Meir Shapiro of Lublin convinced Rav Joseph Rosen, the Rogatchover Gaon, to allow him to take a photograph so that future generations would know what “a true Jew should look like,” the Steipler consented to a photograph to be taken.
[8] Financial difficulties for Jewish medical students are certainly not a new phenomenon. Indeed precisely four hundred years before Rabbi Twerski’s financial woes, in 1658, Chayim Palacco, another rabbi training as a physician in the University of Padua Medical School petitioned the Jewish community of Padua for assistance in paying his medical school tuition. The request, the only one of its kind in the archival records, was granted. See Daniel Carpi, “II Rabbino Chayim Polacco, Alias Vital Felix Montalto da Lublino, Dottore in Filosofia e Medicina a Padova (1658),” Quaderni per la Storia dell’ Universita di Padova, vol. 34 (2001): 351-352.

[9] Jeff Sewald, “Abraham J. Twerski, Psychiatrist and Rabbi: The Psychiatrist and Rabbi in His Own Words,” Pittsburgh Quarterly (Winter 2008), available here.

[10] For further details, see “Catholic Danny Thomas to Help Rabbi Become Doctor,” The Wisconsin Jewish Chronicle (27 June 1958): 1 and 3.

[11] The medical student Judah Gonzago, who trained in Rome in the early 1700s, recounts how one of his final (oral) exams was on Rosh Hashana. He recalls how he left the synagogue after the shacharit (morning) service and returned in time to hear the blowing of the shofar. His other trials and tribulations are reminiscent of those of Rabbi Dr. Twerski, though reflect a different historical reality. Though not a rabbi, Gonzago taught Torah in the local Jewish school. See Abraham Berliner, “Memoirs of a Roman Ghetto Youth,” Jahrbuch für Jüdische Geschichte und Literatur, vol. 7 (1904): 110-132 (German), of which excerpts are summarized and translated in Harry Friedenwald, “The Jews and the Old Universities,” in Harry Friedenwald, ed., The Jews and Medicine: Essays, vol. 1 (Baltimore: John Hopkins University, 1944), 221-240.
[12] How Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski navigated medical school while simultaneously maintaining meticulous religious observance, not to mention finding time for Torah learning, is truly exceptional. It reflects the challenges that every religious Jew faces in pursuing a medical education. These challenges have existed throughout history, though they have evolved over time. See Edward Reichman, “From Maimonides the Physician to the Physician at Maimonides Medical Center: The Training of the Jewish Medical Student throughout the Ages,” Verapo Yerape: The Journal of Torah and Medicine of the Albert Einstein College of Medicine, vol. 3 (2011): 1-25; Edward Reichman, “The Yeshiva Medical School: The Evolution of Educational Programs Combining Jewish Studies and Medical Training,” Tradition: A Journal of Orthodox Jewish Thought, vol. 51, no. 3 (Summer 2019): 41-56. See also Edward Reichman, “The History of the Jewish Medical Student Dissertation: An Evolving Jewish Tradition,” in Jerry Karp and Matthew Schaikewitz, eds., Sacred Training: A Halakhic Guidebook for Medical Students and Residents (New York: Amud Press, 2018), xvii-xxxvii.
[13] See Abraham J. Twerski, The Rabbi & the Nuns: The Inside Story of a Rabbi’s Therapeutic Work With the Sisters of St. Francis (Brooklyn: Mekor Press, 2013).

On his appointment to this position in August 1965, Sister Mary Adele announced: “The addition of Dr. Twerski to our staff is another important move toward our goal of making complete, comprehensive mental health care and treatment available to all the people of the community.” The following month, both Sister Mary Adele and Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski rejected the suggestion that his appointment embodies any aspect of the ecumenical movement, and she told The Pittsburgh Press: “The appointment came at an opportune time to fit into the spirit… but it was accidental.” See “St. Francis Ecumenical Movement? Rabbi, Catholic Hospital Team Up In Psychiatry: Mental Ward on the Move,” The Pittsburgh Press (26 September 1965): 11
[14] Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski’s contributions also extend to the sphere of music. A noted composer of Hasidic melodies (and also of musical grammen that he composed to be delivered at celebratory occasions, such as weddings and sheva brachot), one of his best-known (although often unattributed) compositions is “Hoshia Es Amecha,” which he composed more than six decades ago on the occasion of his brother’s wedding, and set to the words from Tehillim 28:9. The song is often chanted on Simchat Torah following each of the hakkafot in the synagogue, and has become a helpful tune to count the minyan-members ahead of starting prayer services. His story of the song’s composition is recorded here. At his request, there were no eulogies delivered at his funeral. Instead, he requested that his family sing “Hoshia Es Amecha,” which he had once described as his “ticket to Gan Eden…because people dance with it.” See the video of the funeral march here.
[15] For example, see Andrew R. Heinze, “The Americanization of Mussar: Abraham Twerski’s Twelve Steps,” Judaism: A Journal of Jewish Life & Thought, vol. 48, no. 4 (Fall 1999): 450-469.
[16] For the geographic map of the Hasidic dynasties that emerged from Hornsteipel, see Marcin Wodziński, Historical Atlas of Hasidism (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2018), 159,162.
[17] See his book-length tribute to Reb Motele, the father of Rebbe Yaakov Yisrael Twerski of Cherkas ancestor, see Abraham J. Twerski, The Zeide Reb Motele: The Life of the Tzaddik Reb Mordechai Dov of Hornosteipel (Brooklyn: Mesorah Publications, 2002).
[18] See Israel Shenker, “The Twerski Tradition: 10 Generations of Rabbis in the Family,” The New York Times (23 July 1978): 38, which includes a photo of Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael and Devorah Leah Twerski, with their children and their spouses at a family wedding in 1958.

Peter Leo, “He Defies Melting Pot Tradition,” Pittsburgh Post-Gazette (4 September 1978): 15:

Anita Srikameswaran, “Stories That Give People A Lift,” Pittsburgh Post-Gazette (24 September 1997): B2,B7

[19] For treatise on the topic of providing medical care to one’s parent, see Avraham Yaakov Goldmintz, Chen Moshe (Jerusalem: privately published, 2002; Hebrew), available here.
[20] Abraham J. Twerski, Sefer Ye’omar le-Yaakov u-le-Yisrael (Pittsburgh: Kollel Bais Yitzchok, 1997), 177 (no. 86) (Hebrew), dated August 27, 1973.
[21] Grand Rebbe Yaakov Yisrael Twerski passed away on August 7, 1973.
[22] Avraham Yeshaya Kanievsky, Karyana de-Igarta: Letters of Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky, vol. 1 (Bnei Brak: privately published, 1985), 201, no. 190 (Hebrew)
[23] Alan Jotkowitz, “The Intersection of Halakhah and Science in Medical Ethics: The Approach of Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg,” Hakirah, vol. 19 (2015): 91-115.
[24] See Moshe Dovid Tendler, Responsa of Rav Moshe Feinstein, vol. 1: Care of the Critically Ill (Hoboken, NJ: Ktav Publishing House, 1996). See also Daniel Sinclair, “Autonomy in Matters of Life and Death and the Withdrawel of Life-Support in the Responsa of Rabbi Moses Feinstein,” Jewish Law Association, vol. 23 (2012): 231-245; and Alan Jotkowitz, “Death as Implacable Enemy – Or Welcome Friend in the Theology and Halakhic Decision Making of Rabbis Moshe Feinstein, Eliezer Waldenberg, and Haim David Halevy,” in Kenneth Collins, Edward Reichman, and Avraham Steinberg, eds., In the Pathway of Maimonides: Festschrift on the Eightieth Birthday of Dr. Fred Rosner (Haifa: Maimonides Research Institute, 2016), 73-99.
[25] For a comprehensive review of the halakhic issues at the end of life – well beyond the scope of this brief essay – see, most recently, Avraham Steinberg, Ha-Refuah ka-Halakhah, vol. 6: The Laws of the Sick, the Physician, and Medicine (Jerusalem: privately published, 2017), 338-388 (section 10) (Hebrew).
[26] See, for example, his books in Abraham J. Twerski, Let Us Make Man: Self Esteem Through Jewishness (Brooklyn: Traditional Press, 1987); Abraham J. Twerski, The Shame Borne in Silence: Spouse Abuse in the Jewish Community (Pittsburgh: Mirkov Publications, 1996); Abraham J. Twerski, Addictive Thinking: Understanding Self-Deception (Center City, MN: Hazelden, 1997); Yisrael N. Levitz and Abraham J. Twerski, eds., A Practical Guide to Rabbinic Counseling (Jerusalem: Feldheim, 2005), and his dozens of other works published over the past half-century, including more than fifty works at the catalog of ArtScroll/Mesorah Publications.




More on “New Notes Added in the Koren Talmud”

More on “New Notes Added in the Koren Talmud”

Shalom Z. Berger

In what seems like another lifetime but was just over a year ago, the Jewish world celebrated the 13th Daf Yomi Siyum HaShas. The beginning of the 14th cycle led to a revisiting of the Koren Talmud Bavli that had appeared in print for the first time in concert with the previous cycle. In a Seforim Blog post, Chaim Katz pointed out that the new English edition included some additional notes based on Rav Kook’s Ein Aya, and I responded with a post that offered some background on the efforts put into adding (and, occasionally, subtracting) notes, how it was done and to what purpose.

As I wrote in that earlier post, “Our assumption was that the audience for the new English Talmud would be less familiar with concepts and personalities appearing in the Gemara than Hebrew speakers, so we aimed to make sure that when new concepts or personalities appeared, they would receive a background or personality note.” This was done by creating a database of existing translated notes from the Hebrew Steinsaltz volumes, and inserting them as appropriate.

In a response to my post, Chaim Katz graciously acknowledged the contribution that these additional notes make in the new edition, writing: “But for English speakers that aren’t going to learn the language, or learn Tanach, or Mishna first, the “English” section of your edition is almost perfect. In any case the difficulty for students of the Talmud is not the language; it’s the missing concepts, circumstances, realia and all the other background information that the Koren Edition includes. Ashrekhem and Yasher Kohakhem!”

With that background, I would like to share two examples of additional notes, the first of which appears towards the end of Massekhet Pesahim, which, I hope, makes this a timely contribution. As we are in the midst of the year-long mourning period for Rav Steinsaltz, perhaps this could also serve as a tribute to his memory.

Presenting this on the Seforim Blog will also give me the opportunity to publicly thank individuals who helped me develop the new notes and to acknowledge sources that do not appear in the Koren Talmud Bavli itself. In doing so, I am emulating Rav Steinsaltz in his Gemarot, where, from Massekhet Hagiga until the beginning of Seder Kodashim, there often appears a page at the very end of the volume acknowledging individuals who made contributions to a given volume in various fields. In the first few volumes where this appears, it is a concise paragraph thanking his team of editors, graphics people and those who prepared the indices. Beginning with Massekhet Nedarim, he begins to thank medical doctors who helped him with medical issues in the massekhet (as an example, Prof. Jacob Steinberg of the Einstein Medical School gets a shout-out at the end of Nazir). Baba Kamma has additional thanks to those who helped him with questions of geography, while Sanhedrin mentions by name people who assisted in such areas as climate, botanica, zoology, medicine, geography, Rashi’s use of Old French and more.

Beginning with Massekhet Zevahim these pages ceased to appear, which may be connected with the appointment of senior editors in that volume, as now Rav Steinsaltz is listed as “Editor-in-Chief,” with Yonatan Eliav serving as editor. (I will note that each volume of the Koren Talmud Bavli lists editors, translators, copy editors, language consultants, etc., and the team grew in number as we moved though Shas.) Yonatan Eliav tells me that Rav Steinsaltz was “interested in everything,” that he had a large number of reference works at his disposal that he frequently turned to. It would appear that as time went on and the project became larger and larger – and Rav Steinsaltz became involved in more and more things – that he came to rely on experts in various areas of knowledge for the original Hebrew notes and commentary.

Yonatan Eliav also shared that Rav Steinsaltz was not necessarily interested in making use of the background material in order to explain the Gemara, rather his natural curiosity led him to include edifying information about the topic at hand in the Gemara even if it was not essential to understand the sugya. While I did include some material like that in Massekhet Berakhot, it was no longer a priority for my team as we moved forward. Still, there were a number of occasions when understanding the realia was essential for understanding the Gemara, as exhibited in the two examples below.

Pesahim 75a – Lead from its source

One of the editors, Micky Siev, reached out to me just before Massekhet Pesahim was finalized with the following question: In discussing how the Korban Pesah had to be roasted, the Gemara segues to a discussion about how the punishment of execution by burning was to be conducted. The translated text of the Steinsaltz Gemara originally read:

The Gemara asks: Once there is the reason of Rav Naḥman, why do I need the verbal analogy derived from the sons of Aaron? Even without it, Rav Naḥman’s ruling would require the court to carry out the execution with molten lead, which provides an easier death. They say in answer to this question: If not for the verbal analogy, I would have said that burning the soul while the body remains is not considered burning. And if it were just due to the statement of Rav Naḥman that one must select a kind death, we should add many bundles of branches so that she would die quickly. It therefore teaches us through the verbal analogy that executing with molten lead is considered burning. But if this is so, that the verse says: She shall be burned, to include all methods of burning, for what do I need the expression: In fire? The Gemara answers: To exclude lead from its source; when lead is extracted from the ground it is burning hot and this burning lead cannot be used for executions because its heat does not come from fire.

The original text of the Talmud reads לאפוקי אבר מעיקרו, which is translated here as “To exclude lead from its source.” The underlined sentence at the end is a direct translation of the Hebrew Steinsaltz, which is based on Rashi.

Siev asked me the following question:

The underlined section is the Gemara as explained by Rashi. The question is simply that lead is mined from the ground, and as far as we are aware, is not burning hot when it is extracted from the ground.”

My first reaction was to turn to the Steinsaltz Gemara itself. A parallel sugya appears in Hullin 8a, and the Hebrew Steinsaltz Gemara has a note there that explains how it may be possible for lead that is newly mined to be molten hot, and I suggested translating that note for this sugya, as well. But Siev would have none of that. He insisted that to the best of his knowledge and research, lead is never molten when it is freshly mined.

I am not sure that this question would gain much traction in a traditional bet midrash setting, but it certainly was appropriate to ask in the context of the Steinsaltz effort that puts significant emphasis on questions of realia (in fact, at a family wedding that I attended at the time, a relative who gives shiur at one of the prominent one-year Israel programs and is a serious talmid hakham asked me “what are you learning these days?” I shared this question with him and his reaction was “this is learning?!” But surely, if it appears in the Gemara, תורה היא וללמוד אני צריך).

None of the usual sources offered me anything, so I tried to be creative. I called a neighbor who is a geologist. What I learned was that although both he and his wife studied geology, they studied in Israel, which has no lead deposits, so they could not be of any help. Recognizing that I needed to broaden my search, I posted the question on H-Judaic, a listserv for Jewish studies academics (full disclosure – today, as a measure of hakarat hatov, I serve as one of the volunteer editors at H-Judaic). Within a day Prof. Gerrit Bos, Chair of the Martin-Buber-Institut at Cologne University wrote to me simply “Dan Levene and Beno Rothenberg deal with this problematic issue extensively in their: A Metallurgical Gemara: Metals in the Jewish Sources, London: 2007, pp. 101-107.”

While I could not locate the volume in a search of academic libraries in Israel, the Yeshiva University library had a copy, and my sister, Shulamith Berger, who heads their special collections, had a scan for me in a few hours. All this networking led to the removal of the underlined explanation of “lead from its source,” and its replacement with the following note:

This is an opportunity for me to thank Prof. Bos for the reference, acknowledge that the suggestion appears in the book by Dan Levene and Beno Rothenberg, and thank my sister, Shulamith, for making their work accessible to me.

~~~

Shevuot 23a – Pressed figs from Ke’ila…honey or milk

I mentioned this case in my last post, but would like to come back to it in order, again, to acknowledge the assistance of others in the research I did when developing the note that ultimately appeared in the Koren Talmud Bavli volume.

In this case, I believe that the editor involved was Jonathan Mishkin, who pointed out that the Gemara takes for granted that someone who ate pressed figs from Ke’ila or drank honey or milk could not perform the Temple service because they were likely to be intoxicated.

The Gemara challenges: But perhaps the intoxicating substance referred to in the verse is pressed figs from Ke’ila, as it is taught in a baraita: A priest who ate pressed figs from Ke’ila or drank honey or milk and then entered the Temple and performed the sacrificial rites is liable for violating the prohibition against conducting the Temple service while intoxicated.

The Hebrew Steinsaltz Gemara offers a laconic explanation in a note suggesting that figs from Ke’ila have a high sugar content, which may lead to fermentation, but it says nothing about the other substances that appear to be even more problematic. The page in the Koren Talmud Bavli appears as follows:

The first thing to catch your eye has to be the illustrations – none of which appear in the original Hebrew Steinsaltz Gemara – but there is more. The Background note about the prohibition to enter the Temple when intoxicated is taken from the Steinsaltz Reference Guide to the Talmud, which served as the source for many of the additional notes aimed at giving context to a discussion in the Gemara.

The note on “Pressed figs from Ke’ila…honey or milk” expands on the original Steinsaltz note that figs may ferment. The real challenge is why milk should be considered intoxicating (the story of Yael and Sisera in Judges 4:19 notwithstanding). The two suggestions raised in the note are that milk, too, can ferment and become alcoholic, or that “milk” in this context refers to white date wine, the latter suggestion attributed to Rav Menachem Kasher’s Torah Temimah.

Both of those suggestions, again, came from responses that I received on the H-Judaic list. While the Torah Shelemah is credited with the idea that “milk” may be white date wine (Vol. 28 pp. 273-274 in the milu’im), I would like to acknowledge that I was directed to this source by Prof. Admiel Kosman, who serves as professor of Talmud and Rabbinic Literature at Potsdam University.

After a time, I began to turn to both Bos and Kosman directly with questions like these, as they both proved to be invaluable resources in questions of realia. My public thanks to both.

In closing I would like to reiterate my thanks to Rav Steinsaltz zekher tzaddik li’vrakha and yibadel le’hayyim tovim, Meni Even Yisrael for allowing me to play a role in this project that aims to spread Torah among all Jews. A friend recently sent me a still photo taken from an interview with Amar’e Stoudemire that shows the Koren Talmud Bavi on the shelf behind him. The power of Rav Steinsaltz’ vision to make the library of Sifrei Kodesh available to all Jews who desire to learn is a powerful legacy that is now being fulfilled.

Rabbi Dr. Shalom Berger szberger@gmail.com served as Senior Content Editor for the Koren Talmud Bavli project. He is now involved in developing English language educational programming for Herzog College’s Tanakh department.




Picturing Pandemic Prayer

Picturing Pandemic Prayer

Edward Reichman

(with invaluable assistance and inspiration from Menachem Butler and Sharon Liberman Mintz)

Among the precious items recently offered by Sotheby’s at its auction of important Judaica (December 17, 2020) was a richly illustrated miniature book of prayers written and illustrated by Nathan ben Samson of Meseritch, 1728 (here). Nestled among the spectacular illustrations and prayers reflecting all aspects of life we find the page below:[1]

This largely forgotten prayer recited upon seeing one recently recovered from illness derives from the Talmud. Rav Yehuda said in the name of Rav that four must offer thanks to God with a special blessing. One of them is a person who was ill and recovered. The passage then continues to record the proper blessing, which we today know as hagomel. The Talmud then recounts the following story which seems to deviate from the required practice:[2]

רַב יְהוּדָה חֲלַשׁ וְאִתְפַח. עָל לְגַבֵיהּ רַב חָנָא בַגְדָתָאָה וְרַבָנַן. אָמְרִי לֵיהּ: “בְרִיךְ רַחֲמָנָא דְיַהֲבָךְ נִיהֲלַן וְלָא יַהֲבָךְ לְעַפְרָא“. אֲמַר לְהוּ: פְטַרְתּוּן יָתִי מִלְאוֹדוֹיֵי.

The Gemara relates: Rav Yehuda fell sick and recovered, Rav Hana of Baghdad and the Sages entered to visit him. They said to him: Blessed is God Who gave you to us and did not give you to the dust. He said to them: You have exempted me from offering thanks, as your statement fulfilled my obligation to recite a blessing.

While there are seeming difficulties, the Talmud resolves them and considers this alternative expression of thanks, offered not by the patient himself, acceptable under certain halakhic guidelines. Today we routinely utilize the primary formula mentioned in the Talmud for giving thanks after the recovery from illness- birkat hagomel, recited by the patient, though this template could certainly suffice.

I do not think I am being presumptuous in saying that prayer, in some shape or form, in varying degrees, has been on all of our minds, hearts and lips these past few months. Here I do not discuss personalized improvisational prayer, but rather halakhically required or indicated tefillah. From a halakhic perspective, the types of prayers employed throughout this period have been varied and unique.

The Phases[3] of Pandemic prayer

There have been a number of phases of prayer during this pandemic period, each involving a different aspect or focus of prayer.

Phase 1- Techinah (supplication)

The first phase of prayer we encountered during this pandemic was the composition of special prayers to serve as protection and prevention from Covid 19.[4] We previously discussed one aspect of these prayers, the pitum haketoret.[5] There have been countless prayers of this kind written for plagues and pandemics throughout history. A search on the National Library website for the terms magefah and tefillah will sufficiently confirm this. During pre-modern times, when communities endured plague after plague, these prayers were regretfully all too familiar to the European Jew. The liturgy would have been kept under the Aron Kodesh as opposed to the back storage. Current rabbinic authorities thus had ample precedent upon which to draw to compose these prayers. Though we were previously “immune,” both literally and figuratively to this experience, and were unfamiliar with these prayers, we have now all been “exposed” to them.

Phase 2- Hoda’ah (thanksgiving) After Illness

The next prayer discussion to follow, as patients with God’s help began to recuperate from the disease, was an halakhic analysis of the requirements for reciting birkat hagomel. Issues included both when it should be recited, for example if one suffered only a mild case or conversely still had lingering symptoms,[6] to how it should be recited- whether a minyan is absolutely required and, if so, would a zoom minyan suffice.[7] Nathan ben Samson’s illustration might help with at least one of these questions. In order to recite the blessing, the disease should have been severe enough for one to have been bedridden, and one’s recovery advanced enough that he should begin getting out of bed.

Perhaps the rabbis could have considered resurrecting the alternate blessing from our illustration, d’yahavakh lan, during the pandemic. However, it would not have provided any halakhic advantage, as it too requires a minyan. If anything, it would potentially be even more challenging as this brachah is recited by others who observe the patient’s recovery. Perhaps zoom would not be sufficient for this assessment.

Phase 3- Hoda’ah for Preventing Illness

We now b’ezrat Hashem, find ourselves in phase 3 of pandemic prayer. With the development of a successful vaccine we are seeing a new phase of our prayerful preoccupations. Social media is currently abuzz with discussions about whether one should recite a blessing upon receiving the vaccine, and if so, which one.

I have not seen discussions in the halakhic literature on the recitation of a specific tefillah or brachah for previous vaccinations in medical history, neither for smallpox, nor polio, nor measles, nor any others. While admittedly my search has not been exhaustive, assuming there was indeed no previous vaccination prayer discussion, to what would we attribute the sudden change in halakhic perspective? I submit that the answer is rapidity and simultaneity. The rapidity with which Covid 19 spread across the world, leading to the prolonged closure or restriction of religious Jewish practice throughout the entire globe simultaneously is truly unprecedented. While we have experienced pandemics in the past, there has never been a simultaneous, global, real time, communal sense of tragedy on this scale before. Social media contributed exponentially to this experience. The production of multiple effective vaccinations in a mere few months to potentially rescue us from this abyss is likewise unprecedented.

The very aspects that have made this pandemic unprecedented have led to an unprecedented response to the vaccine. The elation at the vaccine’s dissemination is palpable, and the spiritual desire to find tangible verbal expression of gratitude is unrestrained. Rabbinic authorities are responding to this reality.

Furthermore, many rabbinic authorities are strongly supporting if not requiring vaccination.[8] Thus, as opposed to hagomel, or d’yahavakh lan, almost all of us could potentially have an opportunity to recite this brachah. The question then is which blessing.[9]

Talmudic Prayer Prior to Medical Treatment

There is one rabbinic formula mentioned in the Talmud that is to be recited upon undergoing the medical procedure of bloodletting:[10]

.”דְאָמַר רַב אַחָא: הַנִכְנָס לְהַקִיז דָם, אוֹמֵר: “יְהִי רָצוֹן מִלְפָנֶיךָ האֱלֹהַי שֶיְהֵא עֵסֶק זֶה לִי לִרְפוּאָה, וּתְרַפְאֵנִי. כִי אֵל רוֹפֵא נֶאֱמָן אָתָה וּרְפוּאָתְךָ אֱמֶת, לְפִי שֶאֵין דַרְכָן שֶל בְנֵי אָדָם לְרַפּאוֹת אֶלָא שֶנָהֲגוּ

As Rav Aḥa said: One who enters to let blood says:
May it be Your will, O Lord my God, that this enterprise be for healing and that You should heal me. As You are a faithful God of healing and Your healing is truth. Because it is not the way of people to heal, but they have become accustomed.

This passage has been codified in Shulchan Arukh,[11] and though stated in the context of bloodletting, has been traditionally recited throughout history when undergoing any medical treatment or taking any medications.[12]

This blessing with accompanying illustration appears in another eighteenth century illustrated compendium similar to Nathan ben Samson’s:[13]

The modern reader may be forgiven for believing this scene to possibly depict a vaccination, especially given our current preoccupation with the procedure. You would be sorely mistaken. While it is true that the date of the manuscript, 1724, antedates Jenner by some seventy years, a form of smallpox inoculation was being administered long before. However, the Talmudic source of this blessing is associated with bloodletting, in addition to the fact that the clinician is making his incision in the basilic vein, the common location for bloodletting, not inoculation.[14]

This blessing, not unlike d’yahavakh lan pictured above, has, until now, fallen into disuse and atrophy. It has been resuscitated today by contemporary rabbinic authorities for recitation with vaccination for Covid 19. Rav Asher Weiss, Shlit”a recited this upon receiving his first dose of vaccine.[15]

Shehecheyanu

Another brachah considered for vaccination is shehecheyanu. It certainly seems like a logical choice based on its wording alone: “Blessed are You, our God, Sovereign of all, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this occasion.” However, it is far more halakhically complex. Rabbi Dr. Daniel Sperber recited this formula and briefly wrote discussing the different options and the logic behind his decision.[16] Rav Asher Weiss devotes his weekly essay on the parashah of Vayigash, 5781 to this blessing, its parameters, and whether it should be recited upon receiving a vaccination for Covid 19.[17] Rav Weiss concludes that it should not be recited in this case.

Hatov Vihametiv [18]

Rav Yosef Rimon, Shlit”a addresses the propriety of reciting another blessing, related to shehechiyanu, hatov vihametiv, as this blessing requires tangible benefit.[19] Allowing that the vaccine’s benefit is indeed tangible in nature, a remaining question is whether it is entirely beneficial, or perhaps not, as there could be adverse reactions. Should one then preferably, he suggests, recite the blessing upon hearing of the vaccine’s effectiveness rather than upon personally receiving the injection. Rav Rimon concludes that one may recite the blessing depending on one’s subjective perception of the value of the vaccine. Rav Hershel Schachter, Shlit”a recited this brachah upon receiving his vaccine.[20]

Treatment Specific Prayer

A lesser known, event specific, prayer was composed by Rabbi Shmuel Eliyahu, Chief Rabbi of Tzfat:

מודִים אֲנַחְנוּ לָךְ האֱלהֵינוּ וֵאלהֵי אֲבותֵינוּ אֱלהֵי כָל בָשָר. בּוֹרֵא רְפוּאוֹת. שאַתָה חונֵן לְאָדָם דַעַת וּמְלַמֵד לֶאֱנושׁ בִינָה לִמְצֹא וּלְהַמְצִיא חִסּוּן לַמַגֵפָה. יְהִי רָצוֹן מִלְפָנֶיךָ שֶהַחִסּוּן הַזֶה יִמְנַע אֶת הִתְפַשְטוּת הַמַגֵפָה וְיַצִיל חַיִים שֶל אַלְפֵי רְבָבוֹת בָעוֹלָם כֻלּוֹ. אָנָא השְלַח רְפוּאָה שְלֵמָה לְכָל חולֵי עַמֶךָ. הִצִילָנוּ מִכָל תּוֹפְעוֹת הַלְוַאי, רְפָאֵנוּ הוְנֵרָפֵא הושִיעֵנוּ וְנִוָשֵעָה כִי תְהִלָתֵנוּ אָתָה. וְהַעֲלֶה אֲרוּכָה וּמַרְפֵא לְכָל תַחֲלוּאֵינוּ. וּלְכָל מַכְאובֵינוּ וּלְכָל מַכּותֵינוּ. כִי אֵל רופֵא רַחְמָן וְנֶאֱמָן אָתָה. יִהְיוּ לְרָצון אִמְרֵי פִי וְהֶגְיון לִבִי לְפָנֶיךָ. הצוּרִי וְגאֲלִי

This prayer thanks God specifically for granting man the wisdom to discover and create a vaccine for this pandemic and beseeches that it should be effective in saving countless lives across the entire world. When I received my vaccination,[21] as a so-called frontline worker, I personally recited the formula of the Shulchan Arukh above, in addition to this tefillah, which personally deeply resonated with me.

Whether one uses the classic formulation of Rav Asher Weiss, the hatov vihametiv of Rav Schachter, or the shehechiyanu of Rabbi Dr. Sperber is not so much the issue.[22] What is far more important is that the tefillah conversation has shifted from the tefillah of techinah (supplication) to the tefillah of hoda’ah (thanksgiving). While hagomel is also a form of hoda’ah, one must have contracted disease to recite it. This form of hoda’ah is a “healthier” form of thanksgiving and represents an appreciation of the introduction of a cure (or more accurately prevention) of the disease that will potentially end the pandemic for us all. It is an appreciation of the advances in medicine which through Hashem’s guidance have enabled scientists to create a novel and exceptionally effective treatment in a remarkably short time, as Rabbi Eliyahu so beautifully encapsulates in his prayer.

Phase 4- Communal Retrospective Hoda’ah

The fourth and final phase of prayer, which we have yet to experience, is communal gratitude for surviving the plague. This form of prayer can only be expressed once the pandemic has abated. Throughout the centuries, communities that survived bouts of plague offered services of communal prayer and thanksgiving for their survival. I offer one such example.

In the nineteenth century there were multiple cholera pandemics. Jewish communities were profoundly affected by these events. The famous cases of Rabbi Yisroel Salanter (supposedly) making kiddush from the bimah on Yom Kippur and of Rabbi Akiva Eiger recommending social distancing in synagogue to minimize contagion were both associated with cholera pandemics.[23] In 1835, the city of Ferrara experienced a severe cholera outbreak.[24] In gratitude to Hashem for the community’s salvation from this particular event a special community prayer service was instituted.[25] The order of prayers was to be recited in every synagogue in the city of Ferrara in the month of Adar after the Shacharit (morning) service. It included selections from Tehillim as well as specific prayers written for the occasion:

Let us conclude by taking a closer look at our first illustration:

This picture I believe accurately reflects our present state of affairs in the midst of the Covid 19 pandemic. We are collectively as a people beginning to get out of bed on the road to recovery. To be sure, we are not there just yet, but we have transitioned gradually from the prone position to sitting off the side of the bed, with our feet dangling. We are still socially distancing, and as in the picture, there is no one in the room with us. Yet, it appears the door is open. The vaccine has been released and we as a people will soon be walking together unmasked outside and standing together shoulder to shoulder in shul, iy”H. We will then transition to the next and final phase of pandemic tefillah, when this pandemic is behind us- the collective community hoda’ah. I look forward to this final phase of reciting the prayer for the salvation of the world from the Covid 19 pandemic together with you, in person (sorry, no Zoom allowed).

Notes:

[1] Seder Birkat ha-Mazon u-Birkat ha-Nehenin (Grace After Meals and Occasional Blessings), written and illustrated by Nathan ben Samson of Meseritch, 1728 (private collection)

[2] Berachot 54b. translation from Sefaria.org.

[3] I use the term “phase” intentionally to be reminiscent of the phases of the vaccine trials, for which there are also four phases, though the connection is admittedly loose.

[4] See Rabbi Dr. Avraham Steinberg’s compendium on the laws relating to Coronavirus, available here.

[5] Edward Reichman, “Incensed by Coronavirus: Prayer and Ketoret in Times of Epidemic,” Lehrhaus (March 15, 2020), available here.

[6] Steinberg, op. cit.

[7] Rabbi Hershel Schachter, Piskei Corona, available here.

[8] Rabbi Dr. Aaron Glatt, “What Do Poskim Say About The Covid-19 Vaccine?” JewishPress.com (December 24, 2020) (here); HaGaon HaRav Yitzchak Zilberstein: “The Vaccine Has The Authority Of Beis Din” theyeshivaworld.com (December 24, 2020), available here. For a video of Rav Schachter and Rabbi Willig receiving the vaccine see here.

[9] An in-depth halakhic analysis is beyond the scope of this essay.

[10] Berachot 60a. text from Sefaria.org

[11] O. C. 230:4.

[12] Mishnah Berurah 230:6

[13] Seder Birkat ha-Mazon u-Birkat ha-Nehenin (Grace After Meals and Occasional Blessings), written and illustrated by Aaron Herlingen of Geitsch, 1724. The Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary, MS8232. I thank Sharon Liberman Mintz for this illustration.

[14] It is curious that there is no bowl to receive the blood, which one would typically find in illustrations of bloodletting. I also looked at the instruments on the table thinking they might be associated with bloodletting specifically, though could not find definitive evidence.

[15] For a more expansive treatment of vaccination in general by Rav Weiss, see here.

[16] For a video of his reciting the blessing while being vaccinated, see here. For his halakhic analysis, see here. I thank Menachem Butler for these references.

[17] Rav Asher Weiss weekly parashah series, year 23, issue 11.

[18] On the history of this blessing, see Adolf Büchler, “The History of the Blessing HaTov veHaMetiv and the Situation in Judaea after the War,” in Avigdor (Victor) Aptowitzer and A.Z. Schwarz, eds., Zvi Peretz Chajes Memorial Volume (Vienna: Alexander Kohut Foundation, 1933), 137-167 (Hebrew)

[19] I thank Rabbi Warren Cinamon for this reference.

[20] A video is available online here.

[21] Of the Pfizer variety.

[22] On the proviso of course that they are following the guidelines of their posek.

[23] Edward Reichman, “From Cholera to Coronavirus: Recurrent Pandemics with Recurrent Rabbinic Responses,” Tradition Online (April 2, 2020), available here.

[24] Myrna Gene Martin, “Outsiders on the Inside: Italian Jewish Ghettos and Cholera in the 1830s,” European History Quarterly 49:1 (2019), 28-49.

[25] Courtesy of the National Library of Israel, item number 990001066250205171




Is there a rotten apple in the Tu-BeShevat Fruit Basket?

Is there a rotten apple in the Tu-BeShevat Fruit Basket?

By Dan Rabinowitz and Eliezer Brodt

[This post is heavily updated from an earlier Seforim Blog post – here]

Some claim that the origins of the custom to celebrate Tu-beShevat as a holiday that includes eating fruits and other rituals, is Sabbatean. In the main, this assertion is based upon identifying  the work Hemdat Yamim as the source for Tu-beShevat as a holiday and eating fruit and other rituals.  Thus, an article in Ha’aretz trumpets, “The New Year for the Trees, Isn’t it for Sabbatai Zvi.” And the National Library of Israel’s blog includes a post “The Holiday of Tu-beShevat is an Auspicious Time to Pray for the Only (?!) Jewish False Messiah.”  They even include this photoshopped image.

However, a closer look at the history reveals, that although some of the customs on Tu-beShevat can be traced to Hemdat Yamim the actual celebration dates much earlier. Contrary to the popular song, Tu-beShevat hegihu hag ha-ilannot, the 15th of Shevat was not a “chag” of the trees.  Instead, the earliest discussions regarding Tu-beShevat do not mention any holiday associated with the day.  The first Mishna in Rosh Hashana, identifies the 15th of Shevat as the new year for trees.  This designation merely defines how to calculate annualized tithes and is otherwise silent as to the significance of the date.  One can’t tithe fruits from one year using a different year’s fruits. Thus the 15th of Shevat is the cut-off point. [For other contemporaneous examples see Safrai, Mishnat Erets Yisrael, Mesekhet Rosh HaShana (Jerusalem:  Mehlelet Lifshitz, 2011), 305-06]. It was not until R. Gershom’s time that there were any of the traditional holiday markers, but only that fasting is prohibited.

The first mention of the custom to eat fruit and other holiday rituals appears in 16th century Machzor, published between 1548 and 1550. 

That Machzor follows the Ashkenazi rite and includes a discussion of customs according to that rite and the commentary of R. Benyamin ha-Levi Ashkenazi, Ma’aglei Tzedek. He was the rabbi of the Ashkenazi community in Saloniki (of contemporary interest is that he records the death of four of his sons during a plague).   This source, however, was not well-known, and, historically, a different, later, source is identified.  For example, Avraham Ya’ari in his otherwise comprehensive article claims that R. Issachar ibn Susan (c. 1510-1580) is the first mention.  Susan, in his Ibur Shanim, published in 1578, provides that “the Ashkenazim have the custom [on Tu-beShevat] to eat many fruits in honor of the day,” confirming the custom recorded in the Machzor.  1578 was the first authorized printing of R. Susan’s work but not the first time this custom is associated with him.  In 1564, Shlomo Rie published Susan’s Tikkun Yissachar.  (Ibur Shanim 48b and Tikkun Yissachar 62a).  Susan, in Ibur Shanim, accuses Rie of publishing an unauthorized edition, one that contains errors and unacknowledged additions by Rie. Ibur Shanim includes a corrected and otherwise only slightly modified version of Tikkun Yissachar.  [See Susan’s introduction; see also Yaakov Shmuel Spiegal, Amudim be-Tolodot Sefer ha-Ivri: Hadar Mechaber (Jerusalem, 2018), 321-22.]

Mention of this custom also appeared in a Judeo-German Minhagim book first published in 1590. “The custom is to eat many fruits as it is the New Year of the trees.”

Venice, 1593 edition

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the community of Worms, there was a rather interesting variation of the custom. As R. Jousep Schammes (1604-1678) in his custom-book states:

On Purim and the 15 of Av and Shevat these were vacation days for the Rabbis, . . . [on the 15th of Shevat] one says tehina even during the morning prayer. It is a vacation day for the students and the teachers, especially the younger students, it is a day of feasting and joy for or the teachers and their students. The custom is for the teachers to distribute whiskey to the students and make merry with them.”  Minhagei [de-Kehilah Kedosha] Vermisai le-Rebi Joszpa Shamesh (Jerusalem:  Machon Yerushalim, 1988), 249-50, no. 211.

The first mention of Tu-beShevat in a Sefardic source appears in R. Hayyim Benveniste’s (1603-1673) Kenneset ha-Gedolah, first published in Livorno in 1658, where he quotes Susan from the Tikkun Yissachar.  Although Benveniste would later be associated with the Sabbatian movement, his inclusion of this custom in 1658, long pre-dates the movement. Benveniste’s source does not include a seder, nor does it testify to any adoption amongst Sefardim.

Kabbalah first enters the picture in 1728 with a somewhat obscure source. In 1728, Eliyahu Malhlenov published, Birkat Eliyahu, his commentary on the Talmud.  Amongst his papers,, he had a few pages of materials from R. Moshe Hagiz and appended those to Birkat Eliyahu. These materials include responsa and discussions regarding customs.  Hagiz records a custom from his grandfather, R. Moshe Galante.  R. Galante was also Hagiz’s teacher as his father died when Hagiz was a boy.  According to Hagiz, his grandfather had “the custom that on the 15th of Shevat he would eat many fruits that required many blessings and prayed to God that he should decree for us and them a good year. He ate the following 15 fruits, and on each one would recite … a chapter of Mishna…”  Hagiz then provides the order to eat the fruits.

Hagiz might technically be the first to describe a specific ceremony associated with eating fruits, but the source that popularized Tu-beShevat amongst Sefardim, and that incorporated a seder is Hemdat Yamim. Hemdat Yamim, first published in 1732 anonymously has the entire seder for Tu-beShevat. This includes passages from the Bible as well as specific foods. This in turn was popularized to a greater degree when it was included in the book Pri Etz Hadar first published in 1753 and republished an additional 29 times by 1959, and now digitized on Sefaria.

National Library of Israel

The author of Hemdat Yamim concedes that this is not a custom that originated with the Ari or his students.  Nonetheless, the author provides his own kabbalistic ideas and wrote his own kabbalistic prayers for the occasion, and a specific order to the ceremony.  According to many scholars, Hemdat Yamim is not reflective of the kabbalah of the Ari but that of Sabbatai Tzvi and his disciples.  Indeed, Boaz Huss has identified specific prayers in the Hemdat Yamim Tu-beShevat liturgy that allude to Sabbatai Tzvi. Whether or not this assertion is correct, because we can trace this custom, that of eating fruits, to over 100 years prior to the Sabbatian movement as already a pre-existing custom, it is likely unrelated to Sabbatian theology or custom.

Plagiarism

Avraham Ya’ari, the noted bibliographer, wrote a comprehensive article tracing the history of Tu-beShevat.  That article appeared in Machanim and is available at Daat.  This article, at times entire paragraphs, are reprinted verbatim, without any attribution, in a recent book ostensibly authored by Tuvia Freund, Moadim le-Simchah.  Published in six volumes between 1998-2010, this work is replete with such examples of plagiarism.  Here, however, Freund did something arguably even more egregious.  In the pages of materials he steals, Freund cites Yaari and his article by name.  Not for the fact that all the above material comes from there but a small tangential item, the number of times a book was printed.  Indeed, Freund is so unwilling to give Yaari any credit in a paragraph lifted word for word from Yaari, the work Hemdet Yamim is discussed.  Freund provides in a footnote, “see the long discussion regarding this work in Sefer Talmumot Sefer page 134 and on.”  Freund doesn’t reveal the author of Talmumot Sefer, who is none other than Yaari.  Freund doubly removed Yaari from the picture.

 

Magen Avraham

The Magen Avraham cites the Tikkun Yissachar as the earliest source for the custom to eat fruits on the 15th of Shevat.  This, despite the fact that he had accessed, and indeed quotes on many occasions, the Machzor with the Maageli Tzedek commentary. See, e.g.,

נה:יז, פח:ג, קלא:י, תכז:א, תלא:ה, תלז:יז, תכז:א, תנ:יב, תנג:יא, תקפא:ד, תקפא:ז, תקפא:ח, תקפב:ח, תקפג:ב תקפד:ג, תקפט:ד, תרכד:ז, תרכט:ה, תרנא:יט, תרנא:כא, תרנח:יב, תרסא:, תרע:ב [2X], תרעב:ה, תרעג:ז, תרפא:א, תרפח:יא, תרצ:יט, תרצא:ח

While he had access to the Machzor, he did not have access to the Tikkun Yissachar.  The Magen Avraham quotes the Tikkun Yissachar on a few occasions, but always via a secondary source. See Brodt Halachic Commentaries to the Shulchan Aruch on Orach Chayim from Ashkenaz and Poland in the Seventeenth Century (PHD Bar Ilan 2015), pp. 68-69. The Mekor Chaim in O.C. 686:1 is the first to point to the Machzor for this minhag.

The halachot in the Machzor were collected by  Yitzhak Hershkowitz ed., Maglei Tzedek (Jerusalem, 2000), pp. 156-157.  Regarding R. Benyamin see Y.S. Emmanuel, Matsavos Saloniki, vol. 1 (Jerusalem, 1973), 36, 68-69; Meir Benayahu, “Rebi Shmuel Yaffa Ashkenazi,” in Tarbiz, 42 (1973), 423-24 and note 37; M.S. Molcho, Matsevot Bet ha-Olamin she Yehudi Saloniki (Tel Aviv, 1975), 59-60; Yitzhak Rivkin, “Dikdukei Soferim,” in Kiryat Sefer 4 (1927), 278 no. 32; Daniel Goldschmidt, Mehkerei Tefillah u-Piyyut, 252-65, Meir Benayahu, Defus ha-Ivri be-Kremonah (Jerusalem, 1971), 141-78. About Knesset Hagedolah and being a Sabbatean see Brodt, Halachic Commentaries to the Shulchan Aruch on Orach Chayim from Ashkenaz and Poland in the Seventeenth Century, pp. 56; Brodt, Yeshurun 35 ( 2016 )p. 775; See also the recent work, R. Shmuel Ashkenazi, Igrot Shmuel (2021)-, 1, pp. 4-5. 

R. Shmuel Ashkenazi

As the Seforim Blog just published Iggrot Shmuel from R. Shmuel Ashkenazi (see here and here) we reprint two letters from his collection, one discussing the origins of the holiday of the 15th of Shevat and the other Hemdat Yamim.

 

Notes:

Additional sources discussing the 15th of Shevat, see  Meir Rafeld, Netivi Meir, (2013), 185-189; R Mandelbaum, Tehilah Ledovid (Jerusalem, 1993);  Guttman, Otzar TuBeshvat.

Tikkun Yissachar was republished in 1988 with an excellent introduction from R. Betzalel Landau.  Most recently, in 2019, it was reprinted and re-typeset, with additional notes. This edition also includes R Landau’s introduction and another introduction of material about the work. See also Elisheva Carlebach, Palaces of Time: Jewish Calendar and Culture in Early Modern Europe (London: Belknap, 2011),  51-58; יוסף הקר, ‘יששכר אבן סוסאן עליית כוהנים לתורה בשמחת חתנים’, בתוך: ‘מנחה למנחם’, קובץ מאמרים לכבוד ר’ מנחם כהן, בעריכת חנה עמית, אביעד כהן וחיים באר, ירושלים תשס”ח, עמ’ 79-97

Regarding Hagiz, see Elisheva Carlebach, The Pursuit of Heresy (New York: Columbia University Press, 1990).

After the Birkat Eliyahu was published it was attacked by some rabbis.  See Meir Benayahu, “Sefarim she-Hiburum R. Moshe Hagiz she-Hotsyim le-Or,” in Ali Sefer 4 (1977), 143, 150-52; see also Shlomo Yaakovovitch, “Sefer Shehitot u-Bedikot le-R’ Yaakov Weil,” in Tsefunot 4 (1989), 112; Carlebach, Pursuit of Heresy, 247-49. Regarding R. Eliyahu see Y. Halpern, Pinkas Vaad Arba Arotsot (Jerusalem, 1990) 362; Tzvi Horowitz, Le-Tolodot ha-Kehilot be-Polin (Jerusalem, 1989), 1.

The literature on Hemdat Yamim is substantial and we hope to return to the work in an upcoming post.  For the most recent discussion see Y. Goldhaber, “Le-Birur Zehuto shel Mehaber Hemdat Yamim,” in  Sefer Zikhoron le-Professor Meir Benayahu, vol. 2 (Jerusalem: Karmel, 2019), 873-908.

Huss’s article appears as Boaz Huss, “Ha-Ets ha-Nehmad ben Yishi Hayi al ha-Adama: al Mekoro ha-Sabbatai shel Seder 15 Shevat,” in Sefer Zikhoron le-Professor Meir Benayahu, vol. 2 (Jerusalem: Karmel, 2019), 909-20.




Igrot Shmuel: Possible Second printing sign up

Update about Igrot Shmuel: Possible Second printing sign up

By Eliezer Brodt

Less than two weeks ago I announced the publication of R’ Shmuel Ashkenazi’s monumental collection of letters, Igrot Shmuel (see here). I would like to follow up with a small update about the project.

After a long wait of about 12 years, we were privileged to bring to print approximately one thousand letters of R’ Shmuel Ashkenazi, in 3 volumes, 1800 pages titled, Igrot Shmuel.

A mere four to five days after its release to our great surprise and joy (simultaneously), the complete run sold out. The seforim were not sold in any stores nor were they advertised in many places, but people still heard about them.  

We have still been receiving many requests to purchase the seforim but we do not have copies. Even though this was not our original intention we are considering a second printing of another few hundred copies for the same price as the first printing.

However, to see if there is a serious interest in an additional printing, we started a list of people who are interested. If we see in the next few days enough people sign up then we will reprint the letters. The deadline is this coming Tuesday (January 26).

Whoever signs up will then pay upfront half the cost of the books immediately before we know that the seforim are actually going into a second printing. The rest will be paid after the seforim are released. This will finance the printing.

The actual printing will happen very quickly and it just depends on the amount of people who sign up.

To sign up for the second printing send me an email at eliezerbrodt@gmail.com




Four Perplexing Words in Rashi

Four Perplexing Words in Rashi

By Eli Genauer

Shemot Perek 11, Pasuk 9:

(ט) וַיֹּאמֶר יְהוָה אֶל-מֹשֶׁה, לֹא-יִשְׁמַע אֲלֵיכֶם פַּרְעֹה–לְמַעַן רְבוֹת מוֹפְתַי, בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם׃

Al HaTorah (based on the manuscript Leipzig 1) records Rashi’s comment on למען רבות מופתי as follows:

רשי: למען רבות מופתי – מכת בכורות, וקריעת ים סוף, ולנער את מצרים.

Here is Leipzig 1:

Artscroll Sapirstein edition (Brooklyn 1994) adds the words “מופתי שנים, רבות שלשה” in brackets at the beginning.

The words appear without any type of parentheses in Mikraot Gedolot HaBahir 2005. Oz Vehadar HaMevuar also has the words without parentheses. [1][2] 

It seems then that in some newer editions, the words מופתי שנים, רבות שלשה are an integral part of Rashi’s comments. Oz Vehadar explains those words as follows:

But there is a perplexing issue with the presentation of Oz Vehadar. It explains the words “מופתי שנים רבות שלשה” based on Rav Ovadiah MiBartenura, in the sefer attributed him called עמר נקא. I expected to see the words “מופתי שנים רבות שלשה” in the portion quoted in עמר נקא but we don’t find them at all in the quotation from Rashi, rather it appears like this:

It is clear that those words were not in Rav Ovadiah’s text of Rashi.

It is also odd that Oz Vehadar Rashi HaMevuar would have those words as an integral part of Rashi because it acknowledges that those words are missing from the defusim rishonim and from the critical editions of Avraham Berliner: In Rome (רומא), Dfus Rishon (דפוס ראשון Reggio di Callabria) and Avraham Berliner (רא״ב Zechor L’Avraham Frankfurt a/M 1905) the (four)words are missing.”

Aside from the early editions just mentioned, the words “מופתי שנים רבות שלשה” are not found in Soncino 1487, Zamora 1487, Lisbon 1491 or Napoli 1492.[3]

Here is Zamora:

Rashi HaShalem ( Mechon Ariel, 4th Volume 1992)doesn’t have it or even comment on it.

Rav Eliyahu Mizrachi ( Sefer Mizrachi Venice 1527) has a long comment on Rashi but does not include those words in his citing of what Rashi said:

למען רבות מופתי מכת בכורות וקריעת ים סוף ולנער את מצרים.

Avraham Berliner who was cited above (Berlin 1867 and Frankfurt am Main 1905) does not have “מופתי שנים רבות שלשה” either:

Most importantly, the words “מופתי שנים רבות שלשה” do not appear in any Rashi manuscript from the 40 I examined from 12th to the 15th century. As shown above, Leipzig 1 does not contain those words.[4]  Here is another example of an early manuscript without the words “מופתי שנים רבות שלשה”:

Berlin 1221

Based on not finding those words in any manuscript I examined, and the fact that the words were not recorded in any early printed edition, nor were they included by Berliner, nor do they appear in the Vienna 1859 Mikraot Gedolot of Shlomo Zalman Netter, nor mentioned in any way by Rashi HaShalem, I feel comfortable saying that the words“מופתי שנים רבות שלשה” most likely were not written by Rashi. So where did they come from and how did they get to be included in such prominent editions such as Artscroll (where they appear in brackets) and Oz VeHadar Rashi HaMevuar?

As mentioned, the words are not in any manuscript nor in any early printed edition of Rashi. Going forward in the history of printing, they don’t appear in any edition of Rashi all through the 1500’s and 1600’s including the important Bomberg Venice 1518 and 1526 Mikarot Gedolot, Rashi and Chizkuni Venice 1524, Venice 1538, and Sabionetta 1638.

Here is the important Rashi edition of Sabionetta 1557 where the four words are missing:

The first time that I found the extra words included in print is in Yosef Da’at (Prague 1609) Though ordinarily the author Rav Yosef ben Yissachar cites a source for his additions, here he does not.

He just says כן נראה לי –כנ״ל. It is unclear to me whether he had a manuscript which had the words “מופתי שנים רבות שלשה” or it was just his opinion that they be added to explain the words of Rashi which followed.

It does not appear in an edition of Rashi printed soon after Yosef Da’at, that of Amsterdam 1644:

Nor in the first edition of Siftei Chachamim of Amsterdam 1680 ( which often includes the edits of Yosef Da’at) or the Amsterdam Chumash of 1682.

It is not in Dhyenfurth 1693 nor in Berlin 1705 or Frankfurt an der Oder in 1728 and even later there in 1784. It is not in Fuerth 1841 or Vienna 1831 or Vienna 1859 (Netter) nor Warsaw 1861.

The first edition after the Yosef Da’at in which I found it was in Amsterdam 1749:

It is also in Amsterdam 1757:

Amsterdam 1797 has it also with no parentheses,

The words are included in the highly regarded edition of Zhitomir 1870:

It is also in Bait Dovid Lemberg 1909 w/o parentheses.

I find this case to be quite unusual. There are words that most likely were not written by Rashi which have made it into mainstream editions today. They appear because of a comment made by Yosef Da’at where it is not even clear if he meant them to be included in the text of Rashi. Normally when Yosef Da’at introduces some words, they are included in the first edition of Siftai Chachamim in 1680 but here they don’t show up until the mid-1700’s. They appear from then onwards in some editions and some do not have them. The very influential Mikraot Gedolot of Vienna and Warsaw do not have them. Those editions usually set the standard for those that followed but here that is not the case.

[1] Accessed through Otzar HaHochma which now temporarily has open access

[2] Oz VeHadar on page 2 of their forward to Breishit (2018) states that they used the Frankfurt AM edition of 1905 as their base text and to avoid confusion, they did not include parentheses. But they also say that they had Defusim Kedumim which they used to further edit the text. I believe that this is one case where they might have considered doing so as these words do not appear in any Defusim Kedumim nor in Avraham Berliner’s book of 1905 which they cite in this case.


[3] It differentiates Alkabetz (signified by באל׳) from Rome, Dfus Rishon and Berliner, but I found that portion the same there.


[4] The manuscripts are available through the Al HaTorah website at https://alhatorah.org/Commentators:Online_Rashi_Manuscripts. Here are a few more: 

Oxford CCC 165 (Neubauer 2440)- 12th century

Munich 5

Bodelian Library MS Oppenheim 34

Paris 155