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Kol Nidrei, Choirs, and Beethoven: The Eternity of the Jewish Musical Tradition

Kol Nidrei, Choirs, and Beethoven: The Eternity of the Jewish Musical Tradition
The Seforim Blog is reposting Dan Rabinowitz’s post from 2018.
On April 23, 1902, the cornerstone to the Taharat Ha-Kodesh synagogue was laid, and on Rosh Ha-Shana the next year, September 7, 1903, the synagogue was officially opened. The synagogue building was on one of Vilna’s largest boulevards and constructed in a neo-Moorish architectural style, capped with a blue cupola that was visible for blocks. There was a recessed entry with three large arches and two columns. The interior housed an impressive ark, located in a semi-circular apse and covered in a domed canopy. But what really set the synagogue apart from the other 120 or so places to pray in Vilna was that above the ark, on the first floor, were arched openings that served the choir. In fact, it was generally referred to by that feature and was known as the Choral Synagogue. The congregants were orthodox, most could be transported to any modern Orthodox synagogue and they would indistinguishable, in look – dressing in contemporary styles, many were of the professional class, middle to upper middle class, and they considered themselves maskilim, or what we might call Modern Orthodox.[1]

The incorporation of the choir should be without controversy. Indeed, the Chief Rabbi of Vilna, Yitzhak Rubenstein would alternate giving his sermon between the Great Synagogue, or the Stut Shul [City Synagogue], and the Choral Synagogue.[2] Judaism can trace a long relationship to music and specifically the appreciation, and recognition of the unique contribution it brings to worship. Some identify biblical antecedents, such as Yuval, although he was not specifically Jewish. Of course, David and Solomon are the early Jews most associated with music. David used music for religious and secular purposes – he used to have his lyre play to wake him at midnight, the first recorded instance of an alarm clock. Singing and music was an integral part of the temple service, and the main one for the Levite class who sang collectively, in a choir. With the destruction of the temple, choirs, and music, in general, was separated from Judaism. After that cataclysmic event, we have little evidence of choirs and even music. Indeed, some argued that there was an absolute ban on music extending so far as to prohibit singing.

It would not be until the early modern period in the 16th century that choirs and music began to play a central role in Jewish ritual, and even then, it was limited – and was associated with modernity or those who practiced a more modern form of the religion.
Rabbi Leon (Yehudah Aryeh) Modena (1571-1648) was one of the most colorful figures in the Jewish Renaissance. Born in Venice, he traveled extensively among the various cities in the region.[3] He authored over 15 books, and made his living teaching and preaching in synagogues, schools, and private homes; composing poems on commission for various noblemen; and as an assistant printer. In 1605, he was living in Ferrara where an incident occurred in the synagogue that kickstarted the collective reengagement with music. Modena explained that “we have six or eight knowledgeable men, who know something about the science of song, i.e. “[polyphonic] music,” men of our congregation (may their Rock keep and save them), who on holidays and festivals raise their voices in the synagogue and joyfully sing songs, praises, hymns and melodies such as Ein Keloheinu, Aleinu Leshabeah, Yigdal, Adon Olam etc. to the glory of the Lord in an orderly relationship of the voices according to this science [polyphonic music]. … Now a man stood up to drive them out with the utterance of his lips, answering [those who enjoyed the music], saying that it is not proper to do this, for rejoicing is forbidden, and song is forbidden, and hymns set to artful music have been forbidden since the Temple was destroyed.[4]
Modena was not cowed by this challenge and wrote a lengthy resposum to defend the practice which he sent to the Venetian rabbinate and received their approbation. But that did not put the matter to rest.
In 1610, as he approached forty, Modena received his ordination from the Venetian rabbis and settled in Venice to serve not only as a rabbi but as a cantor, with his pleasant tenor voice. In around 1628 in the Venetian ghetto, an academy of music was organized with Modena serving as the Maestro di Caeppella . Both in name and motto that academy embraced its subversive nature. It was called the Academia degli Impediti, the Academy of the Hampered, named in derision of the traditional Jewish reluctance to perform music because of “the unhappy state of captivity which hampers every act of competence.” In this spirit, especially in light of Modena’s responsum on music in 1605, the Accademia took the Latin motto Cum Recordaremur Sion, and in Hebrew, Bezokhrenu et Tzion, when we remembered Zion, based paradoxically on Psalm 137, one of the texts invoked against Jewish music: “We hung up our harps…. How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?”
On Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah in October 1628, a spectacular musical performance was held in the Spanish synagogue, which had been decorated with silver and jewels. Two choirs from the academy sang artistic Hebrew renderings of the afternoon service, the evening service, and some Psalms. Their extensive repertoire lasted a few hours. A throng of Christian noblemen and ladies attended the Simchat Torah service. The applause was great, and police had to guard the gates to ensure order
Beyond his musical endeavors, Modena also served as an expert in Hebrew publishing. The two would create a confluence that enabled the first modern Jewish book of music.
For Rabbi Leon Modena, his young friend, the musician Salamone Rossi, would herald the Jewish re-awakening. We know very little about Rossi’s life. He was born circa 1570 and died sometime after 1628, possibly in 1630. He is listed as a violinist and composer on the payroll of the Gonzaga dukes, rulers of Mantua, and was associated with a Jewish theater company, as composer or performer or both. In addition, Rossi was also writing motets – short pieces of sacred music typically polyphonic and unaccompanied – for the synagogue using contemporary Italian and church styles. He was specifically encouraged in this endeavor by Modena, who urged the composer to have this music published so that it could have an even greater impact.[5] In 1622 the publishing house of Bragadini in Venice issued thirty-three of Rossi’s synagogue motets in a collection, Shirim asher le-Shlomo, that Modena edited. This extraordinary publication represented a huge innovation. First, the use of musical notations that required a particularly thorny issue to be resolved right versus left. Rossi decided to keep the traditional musical notational scheme and provide those from left to right and write the Hebrew backward, because the latter would be more familiar to the reader. Second, it was the first time the Hebrew synagogue liturgy had ever been set as polyphonic choral music. Polyphony in the Christian church had begun centuries earlier. Rossi’s compositions sound virtually indistinguishable from a church motet, except for one thing: the language is Hebrew – the lyrics are from the liturgy of the synagogue, where this music was performed.
There was bound to be a conflict between the modern Jews who had been influenced by the Italian Renaissance and who supported this innovation, and those with a more conservative theology and praxis. But the antagonism towards music, especially non-traditional music, remained strong. Anticipating objections over Rossi’s musical innovations, and perhaps reflecting discussions that were already going on in Venice or Mantua, Modena wrote a lengthy preface included the responsum he wrote in 1605 in Ferrara in support of music in which he refuted the arguments against polyphony in the synagogue. “Shall the prayers and praises of our musicians become objects of scorn among the nations? Shall they say that we are no longer masters of the art of music and that we cry out to the God of our fathers like dogs and ravens?”3 Modena acknowledged the degraded state of synagogue music in his own time but indicates that it was not always so. “For wise men in all fields of learning flourished in Israel in former times. All noble sciences sprang from them; therefore, the nations honored them and held them in high esteem so that they soared as if on eagles’ wings. Music was not lacking among these sciences; they possessed it in all its perfection and others learned it from them. … However, when it became their lot to dwell among strangers and to wander to distant lands where they were dispersed among alien peoples, these vicissitudes caused them to forget all their knowledge and to be devoid of all wisdom.”
In the same essay, he quotes Emanuel of Rome, a Jewish poet from the early fourteenth century, who wrote, “What does the science of music say to the Christians? ‘Indeed, I was stolen out of the land of the Hebrews.’” Using the words of Joseph from the book of Genesis, Modena was hinting that the rituals and the music of the Catholic church had been derived from those of ancient Israel, an assertion that has been echoed by many scholars. Although it can be argued that Modena indulges in hyperbole, both ancient and modern with some attributing the earliest ritual music to Obadiah the convert who noted a Jewish prayer that was only then appropriated for use in Gregorian chants.[6]
Directly addressing the naysayers, Modena wrote that “to remove all criticism from misguided hearts, should there be among our exiles some over-pious soul (of the kind who reject everything new and seek to forbid all knowledge which they cannot share) who may declare this [style of sacred music] forbidden because of things he has learned without understanding, … and to silence one who made confused statements about the same matter. He immediately cites the liturgical exception to the ban on music. Who does not know that all authorities agree that all forms of singing are completely permissible in connection with the observance of the ritual commandments? … I do not see how anyone with a brain in his skull could cast any doubt on the propriety of praising God in song in the synagogue on special Sabbaths and on festivals. … The cantor is urged to intone his prayers in a pleasant voice. If he were able to make his one voice sound like ten singers, would this not be desirable? … and if it happens that they harmonize well with him, should this be considered a sin? … Are these individuals on whom the Lord has bestowed the talent to master the technique of music to be condemned if they use it for His glory? For if they are, then cantors should bray like asses and refrain from singing sweetly lest we invoke the prohibition against vocal music.
No less of an authority than the Shulhan Arukh, explains that “when a cantor who stretches out the prayers to show off his pleasant voice, if his motivation is to praise God with a beautiful melody, then let him be blessed, and let him chant with dignity and awe.” And that was Rossi’s exact motivation to “composed these songs not for my own honor but for the honor of my Father in heaven who created this soul within me. For this, I will give thanks to Him evermore.” The main thrust of Modena’s preface was to silence the criticisms of the “self-proclaimed or pseudo pious ones” and “misguided hearts.”
Modena’s absurdist argument – should we permit the hazzan to bray like an ass – is exactly what a 19th-century rabbi, Rabbi Yosef Zechariah Stern, who was generally opposed to the Haskalah – and some of the very people who started the Choral Synagogue, espoused. Stern argues that synagogal singing is not merely prohibited but is a cardinal sin. To Stern, such religious singing is only the practice of non-Jews who “strive to glorify their worship in their meeting house [בית הכנסת שלהם] so that it be with awe, and without other intermediaries that lead to distraction and sometimes even to lightheadedness. In the case of Jews, however, there is certainly be a desecration of G-d’s Name when we make the holy temple a place of partying and frivolity and a meeting house for men and women … in prayer. there is no place for melodies [נגונים], only the uttering of the liturgy with gravity [כובד ראש] … to do otherwise is the way of arrogance, as one who casts off the yoke, where the opposite is required: submission, awe and gravity, and added to this because of the public desecration of G-d’s Name – a hillul ha-Shem be-rabbim.” (For more on this responsum see here.)
Similarly, even modern rabbis, for example, R. Eliezer Waldenberg, who died in 2006, also rejected Modena’s position, because of modernity. Although in this instance, not because of the novelty or the substance of Modena’s decision but because of the author’s lifestyle. Modena took a modern approach to Jewish life and was guilty of such sins as not wearing a yarmulke in public and permitting ball playing on Shabbos.
Despite these opinions, for many Orthodox Jews, with some of the Yeshivish or Haredi communities as outliers, song is well entrenched in the services, no more so than on the Yomim Noraim. Nor is Modena an outlier rabbinic opinion of the value of music and divine service. No less of an authority than the Vilna Gaon is quoted as highly praising music and that it plays a more fundamental role to Judaism that extends well beyond prayer. Before we turn to the latter point it is worth noting that at times Jewish music was appropriated by non-Jews – among the most important composers, Beethoven. One the holiest prayer of Yom Kippur, Kol Nedri, is most well-known not for the text (which itself poses many issues) but the near-universal tune. That tune, although not as repetitive in the prayer can be heard in the sixth movement of Beethoven’s Quartet in C# minor, opus 131 (you can hear a version here). One theory is in 1824, the Jews in Vienna were finally permitted to build their own synagogue and for the consecration asked Vienna’s most famous composer to write a piece of music.[7] Although Beethoven did not take the commission, he may have done some research on Jewish music and learned of this tune. We could ask now, is Beethoven playing a Jewish music?[8]
R. Yisrael M’Sklov, a student of the Gaon records that he urged the study of certain secular subjects as necessary for the proper Torah study, algebra and few other, but “music he praised more than the rest. He said that most of the fundamentals and secrets of the torah … the Tikkunei Zohar are impossible to understand without music, it is so powerful it can resurrect the dead with its properties. Many of these melodies and their corresponding secrets were among the items that Moshe brought when he ascended to Sinai.”[9]
In this, the Gaon was aligned with many Hassidim who regularly incorporated music into their rituals, no matter where the origin. Just one of many examples, Habad uses the tune to the French national anthem for the prayer Aderet ve-Emunah. The power of music overrides any considerations of origin. Indeed, they hold that not only can music affect us, but we can affect the music itself, we hold the power to transform what was impure, the source and make it pure. That is not simply a cute excuse, but the essence of what Hassidim view the purpose of Judaism, making holy the world. Music is no longer a method of attaining holiness, singing is itself holiness.[10]
Today in Vilna, of the over 140 places of worship before the Holocaust five shul buildings remain and only one shul is still in operation. That shul is the Choral Synagogue – the musical shul. Nonetheless not all as it should be. In the 1960s a rabbi from Israel was selected as the rabbi for the community and the shul. When he arrived, he insisted that choirs have no place in Judaism and ordered the choir arches sealed up. We, however, have the opportunity, as individuals and community to use the power of music to assist us on the High Holidays – that can be me-hayeh ma’tim.
[1] See Cohen-Mushlin, Synagogues in Lithuania N-Z, 253-61. For more on the founding of the congregation see Mordechai Zalkin, “Kavu le-Shalom ve-ain: Perek be-Toldot ha-Kneset ha-Maskili ‘Taharat ha-Kodesh be-Vilna,” in Yashan mi-Pnei Hadash: Mehkarim be-Toldot Yehudei Mizrah Eiropah u-ve-Tarbutam: Shai le-Imanuel Etkes, eds. David Asaf and Ada Rapoport-Albert (Jerusalem: Merkaz Zalman Shazar, 2009) 385-403. The images are taken from Cohen-Mushlin.
[2] Hirsz Abramowicz, Profiles of a Lost World (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1999), 293.
[3] Regarding Modena see his autobiography, translated into English, The Autobiography of a Seventeenth Century Rabbi, ed. Mark Cohen (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988); and the collection of articles in The Lion Shall Roar: Leon Modena and his World, ed. David Malkiel, Italia, Conference Supplement Series, 1 (Jerusalem: Hebrew University Press, 2003).
[4] His responsum was reprinted in Yehuda Areyeh Modena, She’a lot u-Teshuvot Ziknei Yehuda, ed. Shlomo Simonsin (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1956), 15-20.
[5] See generally Don Harrán, Salamone Rossi: Jewish Musician in Late Renaissance Mantua (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999); Michelene Wandor, “Salamone Rossi, Judaism and the Musical Cannon,” European Judaism 35 (2002): 26-35; Peter Gradenwitz, The Music of Israel: From the Biblical Era to Modern Times 2nd ed. (Portland: Amadeus Press, 1996), 145-58.
The innovations of Rossi and Modena ended abruptly in the destruction of the Mantua Ghetto in 1630 and the dispersion of the Jewish community. The music was lost until the late 1800s when Chazzan Weintraub discovered it and began to distribute it once again.
[6] See Golb who questions this attribution and argues the reverse and also describes the earlier scholarship on Obadiah. Golb, “The Music of Obadiah the Proselyte and his Conversion,” Journal of Jewish Studies 18: 43-46.
[7] Such ceremonies were not confined to Austria. In Italy since the middle of the seventeenth century, special ceremonies for the dedication of synagogues had become commonplace. See Gradenwitz, Music of Israel, 159-60.
[8] Jack Gotlieb, Funny, It Doesn’t Sound Jewish, (New York: State University Press of New York, 2004), 17-18; see also Theodore Albrecht, “Beethoven’s Quotation of Kol Nerei in His String Quartet, op. 131: A Circumstantial Case for Sherlock Holmes,” in I Will Sing and Make Music: Jewish Music and Musicians Through the Ages, ed. Leonard Greenspoon (Nebraska: Creighton University Press, 2008), 149-165. For more on the history of the synagogue see Max Grunwald, Vienna (Philadephia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1936), 205-21.
[9] R. Yisrael M’Sklov, Pat ha-Shulhan (Sefat, 1836).
[10] See Mordechai Avraham Katz, “Be-Inyan Shirat Negunim ha-Moshrim etsel ha-Goyim,” Minhat ha-Kayits, 73-74. However, some have refused to believe that any “tzadik” ever used such tunes. Idem. 73. See also our earlier article discussing the use of non-Jewish tunes “Hatikvah, Shir HaMa’a lot, & Censorship.”



מנהג ה’תשליך’ מאת ר’ איתם הנקין הי”ד

מנהג התשליךמאת ראיתם הנקין היד

[הותקן לפרסום מתוך רשימה מכתי]

.מנהג התשליך מוזכר באופן ברור לראשונה בסוף המאה ה-14, בספר המנהגים לרבי יצחק אייזיק טירנא (סוף מנהגי ראש השנה, דה ושליח צבור“): “ורגילין לילך על הנהר ולומר תשוב תרחמינו וגו‘, ורואים דגים חיים

בסמוך לו לפניו מוזכר המנהג במהריל (מנהגים, הלכות ראש השנה אות ט‘): “מה שנוהגין לילך ברה אחר סעודה אצל ימים ונהרות להשליך במצולות ים כל חטאותינו, משום דאיתא במדרש זכר לעקדהומהרי סגל נהג גכ להלוך אצל הנהרות. ואמר, כשהולכין אל הנהרות ביום טוב אל יוליכו עמהם שום מזון כדי לזרוק אל הדגים שבנהרות להראות להם לשמוח בהן, דאית ביה חילול יוט…”. במקור זה לא נאמר שהיו אומרים אמירה כלשהי, ומתוך דבריו אנו שומעים שהיו מן העם שנהגו לזרוק בהזדמנות זו אוכל לדגים כדי להראות להם [ו]לשמוח בהן” (בדומה לדברי מהרי טירנא על כך שרואים דגים חיים“).

גם בלקט יושרלרבי יוסף בר משה, בן המאה ה-15, מוזכר מנהג זה כבדרך אגב, שרבו הרי איסרלין בעל תרומת הדשןלא הקפיד כל כך ללכת לתשליך: “ואינו מקפיד ככ אם אינו הולך לתשליך, אבל לפעמים הולך” (חא, אוח עמ‘ 131, עניין ד; מהדמכון שלמה אומן, עמרצד עניין נב). במקור זה אנו כבר מוצאים שהמנהג מכונה תשליך“, על שם הפסוק המרכזי הנאמר בו (מיכה ז יט).

הרמא מזכיר מנהג זה גם בספרו ההגותי – תורת העולה חג פרק נו: “מנהג ישראל תורה הוא, במה שהולכים על המים ואומרים תשליך במצולות ים כל חטאתם. להיות כי מן מצולות ים ניכר ענין בריאת העולם, כי מצולות ים הוא התהום, והוא המקום היותר עמוק בים, וכשאנו הולכים שם אנו רואים גבורתו של יוצר בראשית. ולכן אנו הולכים על המים בראש השנה שהוא יום הדין, לשים כל אחד על נפשו ענין בריאת העולם, ושהיתעלה מלך הארץ. ועל זה נאמר תשליך במצולות ים כל חטאתם, כי באמת המתבונן בענין מצולות ים ומכיר שהעולם מחודש, על ידי זה עומד על מציאות היתעלה, ומתחרט על ידי זה על כל עוונותיו וחטאיו נמחלים, ועל דרך זה נשלכים החטאים במצולות הים“.

קיימת במחקר סברה שהועלתה לראשונה עי יעקב צ. לאוטרבך (H.U.C.A כרך יא – 1936) שמקור המנהג בתיאור מתקופת הגאונים, המוזכר גם ברשי שבת פא עב: “בתשובת הגאונים מצאתי שעושין חותלות מכפות תמרים וממלאין אותם עפר וזבל בהמה, וכב או טו יום לפני רה עושין כל אחד ואחד לשם כל קטן וקטנה שבבית, וזורעים לתוכן פול המצרי או קיטנית וקורין לו פורפיסא וצומח. ובערב רה נוטל כל אחד שלו ומחזירו סביבות ראשו שבעה פעמים ואומר זה תחת זה וזה חליפתי וזה תמורתי ומשליכו לנהר“.

אולם מדובר בספקולציה בעלמא, שכן הקשר היחיד בין המתואר שם לבין מנהג התשליך הוא המילים ומשליכו לנהר“; כל השאר אינו קשור כלל, וגם מן הבחינה הגיאוגרפית והכרונולוגית אין כל דבר המחבר בין שני המנהגים. גם עצם הראיה מההשלכה לנהר הינה מפוקפקת, שכן רק במהריל מוזכר נוהג לזרוק למים דברים כלשהם בשעת התשליך‘, ואילו בספר המנהגים ובלקט יושר אין לכך זכר. ואף אם נניח שהמוזכר במהריל הוא המשקף את המנהג הרווח ביהודי אשכנז, עדיין מדובר במנהג בעל טעם אחר מוגדר – לזרוק אוכל לדגים כדי לראות אותם ולשמוח בהם – ושונה לחלוטין מטעם ההשלכה למים במנהג הגאונים.

מקור קדום וסביר יותר כהשראה למנהג זה, נדפס באוצר המדרשים של אייזנשטיין, עמ‘ 406: “…וכשם שהשלג מיד נעשה ממנו מים והולכים לים, כך עונותיו של אדם: מיד כשיעשה תשובה ימסו לְמים, שנאמר ‘[ו]תשליך במצולות ים כל חטאתם‘” (מדרש כמעט זהה מובא בפירושי סדור התפילה לרוקח, מהדאייזנבך, הוצמכון סודי רזיא ירושלים תשסד, עמתקה). מוזכר כאן הן הפסוק המרכזי שנאמר בתשליךושעל שמו קרוי המנהג, והן הרעיון הסמלי שהעוונות כָּלים במים – סמליות שמתבטאת באמירת הפסוק על הנהר.

מדרש דומה מובא בפסיקתא רבתי (מהדאיש שלום, סוף פיסקא מד), על הפסוק שובה ישראלהלקוח מן הפטרת השבת שבין ראש השנה ליום כיפור: “אמרו: רבונו של עולם, ומה את עושה לכל עונותינו? אמר להם: עשו תשובה והם נבלעים מן העולםאמרו לו: ולהיכן אתה משליכם? אמר להם: לים – שנאמר ישוב ירחמנו יכבוש עונותינו, ותשליך במצולות ים כל חטאתינו‘ (במקור: “כל חטאתם“)”. למעשה, פסוק זה כשלעצמו כבר מכיל את הרעיון הסמלי שבבסיס המנהג – השלכת החטאים לים – וייתכן אפוא שבזמן מסוים החלו באופן ספונטני לקיים את מנהג זה על בסיס הפסוק לבדו.

הקשר בין פסוק זה לימים הנוראים מוזכר כבר בסדר רב עמרם גאון, שם מובא הפסוק בתוך סדר אשמורות” – סדר הסליחות לעשרת ימי תשובה. מאוחר יותר, בספר מנהג מרשלייאהלרבי משה בר שמואל אחיינו של רבי יצחק בעל העיטור‘, מובאת התפילה יהי רצון מלפניך האלוקינו שתשליך [במצולות ים כל חטאותינו]” (מנהג מרשלייאה, סדר תפילת יום הכיפורים. בתוך: קובץ על יד, ספר כד, הוצחברת מקיצי נרדמים, ירושלים תשנח, עמ‘ 132).

ההתנגדות הראשונה לעצם מנהג התשליך הועלתה בזמן האחרונים, עי המטה אפרים (אלף המגן, על סיתקצח סק ז) והתוספות חיים (על בינת אדם, כלל קלט אות כז), ונבעה מסיבה צדדית: התקהלויות התשליך גרמו לתערובת גברים ונשים, ולכן הפוסקים הללו קראו לבטל את המנהג. גישה זו רמוזה כבר בהקדמה לספר צבי לצדיק“, שם מובא שהחכם צבי מנע מבנותיו ללכת לתשליך.

לנושא זה התייחס הערוך השלחן וקבע שיש למנוע מהנשים ללכת לתשליך, ואם יש תערובת גברים ונשים אזי אין ללכת כלל; והוסיף הערוהש שבלאו הכי יש בזמננוהנמנעים ללכת לתשליך מטעמים הידועים להם, “ונכון הוא“. במה מדובר? הערוהש סתם את דבריו, אך ניתן אולי לשער שהכוונה לתופעה שהיתה ידועה לאורך הדורות, והוא שהגויים האשימו את היהודים שהם מרעילים את המים, ואולי נתלו במנהג התשליך הנעשה על הנהר ומצאו בו הוכחהלטענתם. הרב שפרבר, מנהגי ישראל, חג, עמקכא, הערה 23, מביא כמה מקורות לעלילה הנוצרית הרווחת בשלהי ימי הביניים של הרעלת הבארות עי היהודים.

[הערת העורך: התנגדות הגרא, מתועדת בספר מעשה רב (אות רט), כי הגרא לא היה הולך לנהר או לבאר לומר תשליך“.]

כעין זה, אם כי בצורה שונה מעט, מובא בספר עמק ברכהלראברהם הורוויץ אבי השלה (מהדירושלים תשלז, עמקע), שאין לנער את הכיסים בתשליך ולחשוב שבכך העבירות מנוערות מן האדם, שכן הדבר מביא לחילול המצד הגויים המלעיגים על כך. וכך נאמר שם: “הגהה. ראוי לבטל מן האנשים שדעתן קלות כנשים, שאומרים בזה הלשון: איך וויל גיין מיין עבירות שיטלן [אני רוצה ללכת להשליך את העבירות שלי] ואוחזין בכנף בגדיהם ונוערין בהם, וסוברין בדעתן שעי זה יכול האדם לנער כל העבירות שעשה כל השנה. וחו לחשוב כן. וכן הוא באמת חילול שם גדול בפני האומות שיודעים מזה, ואם רואים היהודים שהולכים את הנהר אומרים דרך שחוק: היהודים הולכים שיטלן אירי זינד אין וואשר [להשליך את חטאיהם במים]. אלא אם רוצה לקיים המנהג יאמר בזה הלשון: איך וויל גיין תשליך מאכן [אני רוצה לקיים תשליך“]”.

[הערת העורך: בדיקה בדפוס הראשון של עמק ברכה“, קראקא שנז, העלתה כי פיסקה זו חסרה שם והיא תוספת ברכה של המול, נכד המחבר, ראברהם דיין מפוזנא בר ישעיהו סגל, במהדורה השנייה של הספר, שנדפסה באמשטרדם תפט.]




The Twice Told Tale of R’ Yonasan Eybeshutz and the Porger

The Twice Told Tale of R’ Yonasan Eybeshutz and the Porger[1]

Moshe Haberman

Moshe Haberman currently lives in Los Angeles and is a businessman. Originally from New York, he learned in Brisk and publishes the Torah journal Chitzei Giborim.

Introduction

The only Halachic sefer[2] published in the lifetime of R’ Yonasan Eybeshuts was the ספר כרתי ופלתי which is a פירוש on Shuchan Aruch Yoreh Deah, dealing with issues of treifos, basar b’chalav, taaruvos, etc. The sefer was published in 1763, a year before his death in 1764 in Altona, which at that time was in the dominion of the King of Denmark.

In his preface to כרתי ופלתי, R’ Yonasan explains that he had already written other seforim, including Urim Vtumin, B’nei Ahuva, and Ya’aros Dvash. However due to the difficult situation he found himself in over the controversies regarding Kameos ascribed to him, that were allegedly Sabbatean in nature, he felt it was impolitic to publish his works earlier in his lifetime. He also shied away from getting the approbations customary upon the publication of a work, and כרתי ופלתי was published without any haskamos.

Despite the seriousness of the Sabbatean allegations, there is no doubt that he was considered to be a genius in Torah, and his influence over his many students was immense. His works are widely used by later generations of Halachic decisors; in many halachic issues, his views are considered normative.

In סוף סימן ס’ה, which is focused on the issur of Gid Hanasheh, the “displaced” nerve that is not allowed to be eaten, he discusses a story illustrative of how difficult the removal of the nerve can be, ie. Porging. There was someone considered to be a Talmud Chochom and expert in porging that claimed that the nerve that the general practice to remove was in actuality the wrong one, and he was being taken seriously in the German communities. When he came to Prague, he met with R’ Yonasan, who was the acknowledged Posek in this field, and (as R’ Yonasan relates the story) he was told by R’ Yonasan that he was wrong, the nerve that this expert was referencing was only found in male animals and not in female animals. R’ Yonasan showed him in the Semag[3] that Gid Hanashe applies to males and females. Apparently this expert accepted this authority and stopped his agitation.

The problem with this is that there is no such סמ”ג. The סמ”ג does not mention anything about males or females in his section on Gid Hanashe at all.

Worse, due to the fact that the סמ”ג is a sefer that counts and expounds on the 613 Mitzvos, many understood the structure of the סמ”ג to be similar to other Sifrei Hamtizvos (such as the Chinuch) where there is a listing of who the Mitzva applies to. Therefore, it was understood that what R’ Yonasan was actually saying was that since the Mitzva applies to male and female people, it should also apply to male and female animals.

This is a strange logic to say the least. It almost seems that he made a mistake where he fundamentally does not understand the issues.

This was the conclusion of R’ Yechezkel Feivel in his sefer, Toldos Adam[4] that R’ Yonason Eybeshutz just made a mistake and that mistakes just sometimes happen, and he goes on to discuss a number of mistakes that he found in Rabbinic literature.

In his article on this subject, R’ Shnayer Leiman[5] lists a number of Maskilim that used the list of mistakes that are mentioned in Toldos Adam to undermine the authority of the rabbinical leadership, stating surprise how one that studies these texts day and night could possibly make such a grave error, one that a child should be able to spot.

Many other authorities discuss this issue. Some take the approach that an emendation is needed, and that the reference is meant to be to a different sefer with a similar acronym such as Semak[6] or possibly Behag.[7]

Most prominently among these rabbinic authorities, the Chasam Sofer[8] grapples with this issue. He also seems to understand the issue as described, that the סמ”ג does make mention of males and females, however referring to male and female people. He also contemplates the possibility that since the proof that R’ Yonason provided was not correct, maybe we should be careful and not eat the other nerve as well.

Based on this question the Chasam Sofer states that as a general rule men and women are included in any מצות לא תעשה as there is no reason to exclude them, however when there is a reason to exclude women, there would need to be some kind of extra לימוד to include them. Therefore if the nerve is particular to the male animal then that would serve as a reason to exclude women, and there would need to be a לימוד to include them, which we do not have.

I believe that the proper understanding of the Chasam Sofer requires one to look at the source of the reasoning behind why the Gid Hanashe is proscribed in the first place. Yaakov was fighting with the angel of Esav, his brother, and his nerve was displaced due to a blow from that angel. The Torah then states, therefore B’nei Yisroel do not eat the Gid Hanashe (עַל־כֵּ֡ן לֹֽא־יֹאכְל֨וּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֜ל אֶת־גִּ֣יד הַנָּשֶׁ֗ה אֲשֶׁר֙ עַל־כַּ֣ף הַיָּרֵ֔ךְ עַ֖ד הַיּ֣וֹם הַזֶּ֑ה כִּ֤י נָגַע֙ בְּכַף־יֶ֣רֶךְ יַעֲקֹ֔ב בְּגִ֖יד הַנָּשֶֽׁה). If this nerve was only in males (animals and people), it would make sense that women would be excluded, as the whole reasoning has nothing to do with them.

This logic was disputed by R’ Shlomo Kluger[9] for a couple of reasons. One, he doesn’t believe that the type of logic is appropriate to apply to R’ Yonason, who would have explained his thought process more clearly, and second, the logic of the Chasam Sofer should also apply to Shabbos, for example, as it is a Mitzvas Aseh with a set time, which as a general rule women are excluded from, women should not be included in the negative prohibitions of Shabbos without a limud, based on the principle explained by the Chasam Sofer. Especially as in the prohibition regarding Shabbos it also says “speak to the Bnei Yisroel” why would we not exclude the women?

In 1930 in a publication from Chicago known as Hapardes[10], there was an article written by R’ Shlomo Michoel Neches of Los Angeles. He writes that in his possession (אצלי) he has a first print of the כרתי ופלתי, and R’ Yonasan, the author, emends the סמ”ג to סה”נ and then writes Seder Hilchos Nikkur. It is not entirely clear which Sefer this refers to, as there is no sefer of that exact name.

This answer was picked up by the Pardes Yosef[11], and it appeared to be the final word on the matter. As a matter of clarity, this answer rings true as to what the author’s original intent was, for the following reasons;

  1. This “expert” that came to Prague appeared to be satisfied with the answer given to him by R’ Yonason. It is doubtful that someone that went through all that trouble would accept a source that is non-existent, or logic that appears to be dubious.

  2. It is clear that R’ Yonasan himself was not the one that prepared the text for printing. It was a student named R’ Ahron Katz[12] .I have in my possession a 1763 Altona edition, and there are many annotations that would point out where there is a good question or a good answer. Here is an example:

It is highly unlikely that R’ Yonasan himself would write in his own sefer “good answer”.

Rabbi Neches was born in Jerusalem and came to Los Angeles in 1910. He was the Rabbi of the famous Breed Street Shul in Boyle Heights (now listed on the national register of historic places) and was the founder of what is now Sharei Tfilah, a shul in the Hancock park area of Los Angeles. He was a collector of seforim and he published articles in Torah journals.

When I moved to Los Angeles it became a mission of mine to track down this volume of the כרתי ופלתי with emendations in R’ Yonasan’s own hand. I spoke with those that had attempted to find this sefer and had been unsuccessful. Apparently Rabbi Neches’s collection was auctioned off after his death and parts of it were donated to the Jewish Federation. No records of this volume were found.

I was able to track down one of the old librarians of the Federation and she told me that most of what they had went to AJU, but she did remember there were boxes of notebooks and other items that were never cataloged. I went to the AJU library and indeed they had boxes that appeared to be never opened. I spent an afternoon going through everything they had, and alas, no כרתי ופלתי.

However, I did find a handwritten catalog of the seforim that Rabbi Neches had in his collection, it was hard to tell if there were more pages due to the degraded condition, however there was no Kreiti Upleiti listed. Not only that but I started to notice that there were no first prints or older seforim on the list. It appeared to be that he was primarily collecting seforim that were printed contemporaneously.

This got me thinking, what if he never had it in his collection? Maybe he saw it in someone else’s collection? There weren’t too many seforim collectors in Los Angeles in the 1920’s but maybe someone had it in his possession as a family heirloom. I decided to look at the academic libraries in California and see if they had a 1763 edition of the Kreiti Uplaiti. With the help of R’ Yaakov Yitzchak Miller, we found it in the Theodore E. Cummings Collection in UCLA[13].

Just as advertised, the Shaar Blat showed the signature of R’ Yonasan Eybushutz, and the emendation was there in siman 65. However, something was wrong. The signature was from R’ Yonasan Halevy Eybeshutz of Leshitz. The author of כרתי ופלתי wasn’t a Levi, nor was he from Leshitz.

This volume wasn’t the personal property of the author of כרתי ופלתי, who fixed an unintentional error, it was the property of an entirely different person, albeit with the same name, that lived 150 years later.

This information, that Rabbi Neches provided was wrong, and therefore the issue of R’ Yonason’s mistake was back in play, was made public a few years back[14], and it would appear that we are back to square one, that this apparent mistake has other potential answers, including that of the Chasam Sofer.

Is it possible that Rabbi Neches simply made a mistake? It did not appear likely to me as it is pretty clear what it says, and he would know that R’ Yonasan, the author, was not a Levi.

Furthermore, in the private collection of Dr. Steven Weiss, there is a sefer, Shaar Yonason written by R’ Yonasan Eybeshutz of Leshits, that was acquired from the collection of Rabbi Neches, and it has the distinctive binding that Rabbi Neches would put on his seforim, so Rabbi Neches clearly knew of that there was another R’ Yonasan Halevi Eybesutz of Leshitz.(See Appendix B)

Rabbi Neches was right.

Rabbi Neches did not make a mistake. Incredibly, this particular volume that was owned by Rabbi Yonasan Halevi Eybeshutz of Leshitz, was also owned by Rabbi Yonason Eybeshutz, the author of כרתי ופלתי.

The odds would appear to be stacked against this, however if you look at the Shaar Blatt of the volume, reproduced here you can see two distinct handwritings, both say “Yonason Eybeshutz”, one appear to be more elongated and cursive and the other more rounded and of an older type, where each letter was not formed in one continuous stream.

Towards the top middle you can see under the first signature reproduced here

And on the left side center you can see a very different autograph, reproduced here

I was able to obtain with the kind assistance of R’ Shnayer Leiman images of signatures that have been verified to be R’ Yonasan Eybeshutz (see Appendix A), and if you put them together, the conclusion is inescapable.

From a receipt for money received that is verified to be R’ Yonason Eybeshutz, the author. (Appendix A)

From the Shaar Blatt of the כרתי ופלתי in UCLA.

This is clear evidence that this volume was the personal copy of the author himself.

Now let’s turn to the emendation, reproduced here

The letters are the rounder letters that are consistent with the author’s writing than the angular writing of the other R’ Yonason Eybeshutz.

It turns out that my thought process in tracking down this volume was actually wrong. The Cummings collection in UCLA was not donated by a local collector, it was actually purchased in 1963 from Israel, from the defunct publishing firm of Bamberger and Wahrman.[15] Mrs. Cummings merely footed the bill for the acquisition in honor of her husband.[16] I corresponded with Arnold Band, who was in charge of the acquisition, and he confirmed that it only made it to Los Angeles in 1963, and he had personal knowledge that the Kreiti Upleiti was part of the acquired collection. As Rabbi Neches moved to Los Angeles in 1910 and his article was published in 1931, he must have been working off of memory or notes that he took from when he saw it in Israel.

The only issue with that is the language Rabbi Neches used in the article, which that it was in his possession (אצלי), which it clearly wasn’t.

Sefer Hilchos Nikkur

There are a number of candidates for this sefer. Although there are no seforim with this exact title, Leiman[17] makes a persuasive case that the reference is to a 1577 volume printed in Cracow with the title הלכות הניקור , with the section title of סדר הניקור . With the conflation of the two titles, this is probably what R’ Yonason is referring to. The annotations were made by Rabbi Zvi Bochtner, who states that he consulted with Rabbi Moshe Isserles, the Rema, on his conclusions.[18]

This is a sefer that is unusual in that it is highly focused on one area of halacha, annotated by someone that wrote no other sefer and is not a well-known Rav, yet has authority. This sefer would be familiar to those that were in the practical business of porging, however would be unknown to the general learned public. The Rema’s endorsement, of course as the Posek of the German communities would be accepted by the expert as dispositive.

Conclusion

Despite the many twists and turns of this tale, it appears that R’ Yonason Eybeshutz did not make a mistake. The person that prepared the manuscript for printing made an understandable error due to the very unique nature of this particular sefer, and misunderstood which sefer the author was referencing, and subsequently the author himself fixed the issue. Rabbi Neches also did not make a mistake, although some confusion still exists how he actually saw this volume. To use the phrase that Rabbi Neches wrote in his article regarding his discovery of the emendation in R’ Yonason’s own hand, it is a mitzva to publicize this fact.

Appendix A

 

Appendix B

 

 

[1] Porging, or the act of removal of a nerve to make an animal kosher, is actually an English word, it is both in the Oxford English dictionary and Merriam-Webster. The source given is based on Judeo-Spanish. It appears to be highly unusual that a word would be extant in the English language that is specifically related to Jewish halacha, yet does not derive from either Yiddish (טרייבער) or Hebrew (מנקר).
[2] There was a sefer published to defend his case against R’ Yakov Emden called Luchot Edut, published in Altona 1755, and another called V’evoh Hayom El Ha’ayin which had disputed authorship.
[3] Rabbi Moshe of Coucy’s (d.1260) ספר מצוות גדול.
[4] Feivel, Rabbi Yechezkel, “Toldos Adam Chelek Bais”, Vilna 1884, pg. 43.
[5] Leiman, Rabbi Dr. Shnayer Z. “Judaic Studies” No. 4 Fall 2004, “Rabbi Jonathan Eybeshuetz and the Porger” pg. 16.
[6] Rabbi Isaac of Corbeil’s (d. 1280)’s ספר מצוות קטן.
[7] Rabbi Simon Kayyara’s  (d. 8th Century) הלכות גדולות, known in halachic literature as the בעל הלכות גדולות.
[8] In שו”ת חתם סופר סימן ס”ט.
[9] In ‘שו”ת טוב טעם ודעת סימן ק.
[10] Hapardes No. 4 Vol 1 (1930) pg. 18-19.
[11] Pozonovsky, Rabbi Yosef, פרדס יוסף פרשת וישלח.
[12] Introduction to the Kreiti Upleiti, Altona, 1763.
[13] Charles E. Young Research Library, UCLA, “Kereti U’Feleti”, Eybeschuetz, Jonathan, H0000017129.
[14] Wild Wild West-Orthodox Jewish Pioneers in LA, https://youtu.be/LEysLjApKOU ; “Kovetz Hama’eyan” (vol. 215; Tishrei 5776, pg 100 – 102).
[15] https://www.jta.org/1963/04/19/archive/university-of-california-gets-collection-of-33520-books-from-israel
[16] Her son Theodore Cummings served as Ambassador to Austria in the Reagan administration.
[17] Ibid, pg. 27,
[18] Valmadonna Trust London England 4822, שחיטות / של מוהר”ר יעקב ווייל, עם ההגהות והחדושים שליקט ואסף הר”ר צבי בר יצחק יעקב, ממה שבא לידו ובדק ונסה זה כמה שנים, והוגה אות באות על פי מוהר”ר משה איסרליס, בי הירש בן יצחק יעקב, מקראקא.

 




Shnayer Leiman: In Appreciation*

Shnayer Leiman: In Appreciation*

Yitzhak Berger and Chaim Milikowsky

אוצר נחמד ושמן בנוה חכם

 (משלי כא,כ)

In multiple ways, the above-cited biblical phrase, on which the title of this volume is based, calls to mind its distinguished honoree. For one thing, few collections of Jewish writings surpass Shnayer Leiman’s אוצר נחמד – a vast store of literary treasures that encompasses, among much else, an abundance of rare traditional classics. For both its scale and its exquisiteness, the renowned Leiman Library inspires an inevitable sense of awe.

This repository of writings, however, attests to more than the efforts of a great collector. While it is difficult, within Shnayer Leiman’s many spheres of interest, to identify a book that he does not possess, it is equally challenging to find information that he does not know. If the volumes in his home comprise a storehouse of Jewish knowledge, it is hardly an exaggeration to say the same of their illustrious owner.

Indeed, whereas the Leiman Library constitutes an אוצר נחמד because of the “precious treasures” that it holds, we may apply the same Hebrew phrase to the man himself – a “delightful repository” of both knowledge and kindness who has enriched the lives and minds of scholars and laypeople alike. Widely sought out for his erudition and scholarship, Leiman has shared his expertise with countless individuals in academia and beyond, always with his signature pleasantness and soft and inviting demeanor. The success of his heavily attended biweekly classes, offered in his home for many years, owes not only to their rich content but also to the welcoming environment generated by him and his equally gracious wife Rivkah. Not only do Jewish books line the shelves of the Leiman home; their proprietors generously share the Torah that they comprise with an eager and inquisitive Jewish public.

The professional career of Shnayer (Sid) Leiman attests to his intellectual breadth and to the wide admiration he has earned in both academic and communal circles. A Mirrer yeshiva bochur who attained a Ph.D. in Bible under Moshe Greenberg at the University of Pennsylvania, Leiman spent several years as head of the Judaic Studies program at Yale. Later, he would return to New York to head the Bernard Revel Graduate School for Jewish Studies at Yeshiva University. Maintaining a sustained relationship with YU, he then commenced a professorship in Jewish Studies at Brooklyn College of the City University of New York, where he remained for several decades, including a period during which he served as Editor of the Yale Judaica Series. Currently, he holds a Distinguished Professorship at Touro College, assisting in the development of its Ph.D. program in Jewish Studies. In the broader community, Leiman remains a popular speaker across a wide spectrum of populations. He is especially known for his involvement in tours of European cities, where he has fascinated travelers with his lectures on pre-war Jewish communities and rabbinic figures.

Leiman’s scholarship stands out in multiple respects. With a degree in Bible that yielded a pivotal study on the canonization of Scripture – an inquiry demanding expertise in both Biblical Studies and Rabbinics – Leiman has contributed to a strikingly wide array of fields. Shedding the constraints of ever-increasing academic specialization, he has produced well over a hundred essays on such diverse topics – covering a range of eras – as canonization, Masorah, modern and early-modern rabbinic figures, Jewish ethics, modernization and rabbinic leadership, contemporary Jewish issues, and more. Notably, with his superior academic credentials in hand, Leiman has consciously chosen to diversify his writings among professional and more popular outlets, seeking to enrich and inspire the public no less than to advance the frontiers of scholarship. Lists of his publications and more, including the full text of several dozen essays, are conveniently available online at leimanlibrary.com.

Consistent with the breadth of its honoree, the present volume, marking fifty years of his contributions to Jewish Studies, contains essays that span a range of fields: Bible and philology, Masorah, biblical interpretation, philosophy and theology, halakhah and pilpul, works of art and their connection to Jewish law and thought, and the social and intellectual history of medieval and modern Jews of diverse regions and cultures. The eager participation of the authors, along with the kind tributes penned by several of them, reflects the warm admiration toward Shnayer Leiman felt by many. The editors, whom he ably and selflessly guided in their doctoral studies, join in wishing him enduring personal fulfillment and continued success in contributing to Jewish life and scholarship.

כי אם בתורת ה’ חפצו ובתורתו יהגה יומם ולילה

והיה כעץ שתול על פלגי מים אשר פריו יתן בעתו

ועלהו לא יבול וכל אשר יעשה יצליח

Yitzhak Berger

Chaim Milikowsky

יום העצמאות, תשע״ט

May 8, 2019

*Reprinted from *‘In the Dwelling of a Sage Lie Precious Treasures’: Essays in Jewish Studies in Honor of Shnayer Z. Leiman*, eds. Yitzhak Berger and Chaim Milikowsky (New York: Yeshiva University Press, 2020), with permission of YU Press, available to be ordered here.

Table of Contents:




Torah & Rationalism – Writings of the Gaon Rabbenu Aaron Chaim HaLevi Zimmerman zt”l

Torah & Rationalism – Writings of the Gaon Rabbenu Aaron Chaim HaLevi Zimmerman zt”l (Feldheim 2020, 216pp.)*

Ovadya Hoffman

Deviating from conventional book reviews I shall not enter into a discussion of the author – R. Chaim Zimmerman’s genius, schooling, breathtaking erudition, oeuvre, philosophies or his broader Weltanschauung. I leave that for the biographers, that is, if any will take up the challenge.[1] Nor does this survey qualify as a comprehensive book review as I will explain later on. 

First, a word on the book itself. When a posthumously published book appears any critical minded reader wonders where the material came from, in what condition it was, did the publishers do any editing at all to the materials etc.? These are very important questions with serious ramifications and any responsible publisher should want to provide as much detail as possible. Unfortunately, in the present book we are presented with a vague picture. The reader is only informed (Preface, viii) “The text presented includes redacted variants of articles published during the 1980s under the headline Torah and Logic.” No precise list of the publications’ previous appearances is given, a proper bibliography, no exact description of the redactions or even who committed the redactions – the editor, Moshe Avraham Landy, or R. Zimmerman himself. One example, which relates to the section I’d like to focus on, is Landy’s note on p. 131 n. 265 (duplicated in the Hebrew section, p. 174). He informs us that R. Zimmerman “compiled a page by page critique of Professor Ginzberg‘s A Commentary on the Palestinain Talmud that shows most of the sources quoted by Ginzberg are found explicitly in earlier lesser-known printed books on Talmud Yerushalmi; and any chiddush, or “original idea”, offered by Ginzberg could also be found in sefarim and books of previous rabbis and scholars. This critique was written about 1950, and for various reasons was not published. Some galley proofs and other remnants of this manuscript are in the archive of the collected writing of the Gaon Rabbenu… They are presented herein for the reader in the original Hebrew…” I am unsure if what is presented are pieces of a longer manuscript which runs “page by page” (on all three volumes of the Commentary and the posthumously published fourth volume) or if this is the complete critique which, in its current composition, only encompasses the first eighty or so pages of the first volume. Again, a precise description and an unequivocal report of the materials would have obviated any confusion. 

CHAPTER IX – The Falsity of Chochmas Yisrael

I shall focus on R. Zimmerman’s charges leveled at Professor Louis Ginzberg’s Perushim VeChiddushim BaYerushalmi (herein, “Commentary”); specially the explicated charges mentioned in this chapter as they are reflective of the criticisms in the Hebrew recension, “רצנזיה” (Appendix, 175ff.), which will not be treated in this essay. I do not think such a presentation is misrepresentative or fragmentary of R. Zimmerman’s complete critique since he himself maintained that “[f]or the intelligent reader, the following evidential examples should suffice” (p. 131). Additionally, I resisted from responding to the cryptic one-liner allegations sprinkled on the preceding pages (pp. 127-130) since I’m not at all sure to what precisely R. Zimmerman was referring to and are, supposedly, detailed only in the Hebrew section. I surmise that the citations to the Commentary referenced in the notes of those one-liners were provided (or, suggested) by the editor of the manuscript, either Landy or Rabbi Eliyahu M. Zelasko (cf. p. 175). Finally, to assay the buildup and the opinions expressed in the chapter of the wider “Falsity of Chochmas Yisrael” is more tedious and requires a much more in-depth systematic debate as it relates to their different schools of thought, principles and religious philosophies, which is entirely beyond the scope of this scrutiny. This review is not intended as a rejoinder or an exculpation of Chochmas Yisrael, its “truthfulness” or its fidelity to Halachah and tradition. In this brief register it is strictly Ginzberg’s [rabbinic] scholarship I attempt to address in light of R. Zimmerman’s allegations; not the man, his beliefs or his affiliated institution(s). Transliterations below follow the method employed in the book under review. Emphasis, in italics, are of the current writer. 

P. 127
He [Ginzberg] writes in his book that he developed a novel approach and a scientific method to Halachah.
These are Ginzberg’s actual words (English intro., viii):
In these volumes an attempt has been made to deal with the writings of the mishnaic-talmudic period as a unit and, within the framework of a commentary on the first treatise of the Palestinian Talmud, to present a novel approach to the study of this literature.
To the initiated with the Yerushalmi’s commentaries I think a tenable argument can be made that Ginzberg’s tomes are a unique attempt at approaching the study of Talmud Yerushalmi with modern methods through the very framework he delineated in his introductions. Alas, R. Zimmerman did not offer examples to the contrary, i.e. books predating Ginzberg which approached the Yerushalmi mirroring the latter’s methods. This is in stark contrast to Solomon Zeitlin’s perspective who wrote in his review of the Commentary: “It is the first and only serious rabbinic work published so far in this country. Ginzberg is the first to give us a thorough, scholarly treatment of the Palestinian Talmud from the old rabbinic and also scholarly point of view.” Zeitlin, not being one to ingratiate with embellishment, went so far to suggest “Solomon ibn Adret said there was only one in a generation who could understand the Palestinian Talmud. Prof. Ginzberg, I believe without exaggeration, has no equal in our generation and is one of the greatest authorities on the Palestinian Talmud since the time of the Gaon of Vilna.”[2] Among the many Roshe Yeshivot and rabbanim who respectfully referred to and/or corresponded with Ginzberg, mention should be made here of what R. Mordechai Gifter wrote to Ginzberg upon receiving a copy of the Commentary
זה כשבוע שהובא אוצר גדול לביתי הוא ספרו של כבודו “פירושים וחידושים בירושלמי”, ואתמול גמרתי העיון בכרך הראשון על שני פרקים הראשונים במס’ ברכות. ואף שאין כבודו צריך לדכוותי, לא אוכל להתאפק לומר לו “יישר חילו לאורייתא”, ואקוה שיזכה להו”ל ספרו על כל הירושלמי, להאיר עיני ההוגים בתלמוד זה. הספר גזל ממני הרבה שינה, ואקוה שיהיו לרצון לפניו הערות אחדות שמצאתי להעיר בדבריו[3]
P. 132 

R. Zimmerman introduced the question regarding the strength of the obligation to recite the paragraphs of the Shema section; is it Biblical or rabbinical and, if any, which paragraphs? He called attention to the Peri Chadash and Sha’agas Aryeh who offered their respective
“great pilpulim… The Sha’gas Aryeh in his great teshuvah [responsum] has a pilpul on the subject, where he quotes some pieces of the Peri Chadash and argues against them… Ginzberg writes in a very trivial and casual tone against these two renowned geonim… Ginzberg writes that these two geonim, despite all their lengthy pilpul, overlooked an explicit and open source in the Talmud Yerushalmi.”
Not only is this an overly exaggerated characterization of Ginzberg’s actual words, the irony is eyebrow raising as Ginzberg’s words are presented in the footnote and the readers can detect this themselves, save for the note which contains a truncated text of Peri Chadash and therefore gives a different impression of what Peri Chadash actually wrote and how he formulated his discussion. These are Ginzberg’s words [with emphasis on the phrasing under attack]:
האחרונים האריכו לפלפל אם למ”ד ק”ש מן התורה ב’ פרשיות הן מן התורה או רק פרשה ראשונה (עיין פרי חדש ס”ו [ע.ה.: צ”ל ס”ז], ושאגת אריה ס’, ב’) ולא העירו על דברי הירושלמי כאן, שכבר אמרנו בכמה מקומות שלהירושלמי ק”ש מן התורה, ומ”מ טרחו למצוא טעם למה אין צריך כוונה רק פרק ראשון ולא אמרו שפרק ראשון מן התורה ולכך צריך כוונה ופרק שני מדרבנן ולכן אינו צריך כוונה, וע”כ ששניהם מן התורה, ועיין ראש דבור הקודם, ואכמ”ל
First of all, such common stock phrases, in all of rabbinic literature, needs no elaboration other than to say that it is not perceived as an undermining and disdainful “very trivial and casual tone” (never mind the harsher verbiage, and no less from R. Hezkiah de Silva himself). 

After repeating this same stricture (p. 133) R. Zimmerman adds:
…it is astonishing that the academic “scientific scholar” Louis Ginzberg either did not understand the words of the Peri Chadash and Sha’agas Aryeh, or deliberately deceived to discredit them. The error of Ginzberg here is because in the same chapter of the Peri Chadash, the Peri Chadash himself quotes this Talmud Yerushalmi, and brings this very proof with respect to which Ginzberg claims that he “caught” the Peri Chadash and the Sha’agas Aryeh in overlooking the Talmud Yerushalmi. Of course, the Sha’agas Aryeh makes reference to the Peri Chadash, so obviously he does not have to repeat the proof from this Yerushalmi which is clearly stated by the Peri Chadash.
Let us inspect the Peri Chadash. He begins chapter 67 with a thorough exposition determining what the obligatory status is with regards to reading chapters of the Shema. After about eight long paragraphs he arrives at his own conclusion that the reading of both chapters are biblically mandated and suggests that Rambam’s words appear to evoke the same opinion. He writes:
מעתה נשאר לנו לברר הדעת השלישי’ והיא היותר אמיתי מכולן דפרש’ שמע ופרשת והיה אם שמוע השתי פרשיו’ הוו מן התור’… וכך מטין דברי הרמב”ם ז”ל… וזו היא דעתי ומסתייעא הדין סברא דילן מהא דגרסינן בפ’ היה קורא…
Moving on to a dissection of the respective topic in the Bavli in order to prove his opinion, Peri Chadash qualifies that there is a Tanaitic dispute if the reading of both also require intent (“kavannah”) or only one of the chapters and adduces support from a Tosefta, interpreting the two opinions to be debating this last question vis-à-vis intent. To further corroborate this interpretation Peri Chadash finally adds:
ובירושלמי אמרינן מה בין פ’ ראשון דבעי כוונ’ לפ’ שני דלא בעי כוונ’ ומשני לה, נמצא דהני תנאי ס”ל דשתי פרשיו’ ראשונו’ הוו מן התור’…
It seems it is quite reasonable, if not absolute, to understand Peri Chadash’s usage of the Yerushalmi only as support to his interpretation of the views in the Tosefta regarding intent as it relates to “דהני תנאי” of the Tosefta. In other words, Peri Chadash did not cite the Yerushalmi in order to settle the question regarding the status of the Shema passages. One would imagine that if it was his intention do so he would have introduced such a critical source much earlier in his discussion and devoted more than a brief quote of this Yerushalmi passage. It appears that Sha’agas Aryeh too understood the Peri Chadash in this vein since, in his responsum, he does not merely “make(s) reference to the Peri Chadash” – he systematically went through Peri Chadash’s proofs and refutes them one by one, yet he does not single out the Yerushalmi in attempt to disprove the proof from it.
PP. 134 

Before moving to this example it is important to present the relevant rabbinic materials. Briefly put, the Yerushalmi presents two opinions as to why one must have his feet together when praying. One of the two opinions learns this from the exegetical requirement of the Kohanim to walk heel-beside-toe (“עקב בצד גודל”). A mishnah in Yoma (2:1) tells us that prior to certain Temple regulations Kohanim would race up the ramp in order to merit doing a particular service. The Tosefos Yeshanim (Yoma 22a s.v. bezman) points to this contradiction; namely, how were the Kohanim permitted to run if it is indicated in the Yerushalmi that the Kohanim were required to walk heel-beside-toe? Dismissing the possibility that they ran heel-beside-toe (“ואין נראה לומר דרצין עקב בצד גודל קאמר”) Tosefos Yeshanim goes on to present what appears as two answers. Answer 1: “ושמא כיון שלא [היו] עדיין עסוקין בעבודה כמו בהולכת אברים לכבש יכולין לרוץ” (= since they had not yet been involved in a service, such as the delivering of the limbs via the ramp, they were allowed to run). Answer 2: “אי נמי רצין עקב בצד גודל שלא להראות כמו עושה כן אלא כי כן צריך לו לילך בשעת עבודה כדפי’”. One readily discerns that this reading is textually defective. On the margin of this folio in the standard Vilna edition, a gloss is brought closing with “וע’ ש”י” (= see Siah Yitzchak [Nunes Vaes, Jerusalem 1960, p. 293]), presenting a substantiated alternative reading which, for the sake of brevity, I will not get into other than to point out that the alternative phrase indicates that there is no second answer. Instead, the rest of the text is a further explanation of a particular, related Talmudic passage elsewhere. On the other hand, in R. Avigdor Arieli’s edition of the Tosefos Yeshanim (Jerusalem 1993, p.30) some text of Tosefos HaRosh is incorporated and such is the text given: “אי נמי רצין עקב בצד גודל [קאמר שהיו ממהרין ללכת בענין זה…]”. This answer seems to say that the Kohanim would hurriedly walk heel-beside-toe. The nuanced difference borne in this answer compels one to consider that Siah Yitzchak’s emendation is more likely. 

This now brings us to the commentary of R. Avraham Abba Schiff in his To’afos Re’em which R. Zimmerman uses to level charges against Ginzberg. Here is the pertinent text of R. Schiff:
…ובירושלמי… אמרו זהו שעומד ומתפלל צריך להשוות את רגליו כו’ ח”א כמלאכים וח”א ככהנים כו’ שהיו מהלכים עקב בצד גודל וגודל בצד עקב משמע משם דוקא וכ”כ התוס’ ישנים יומא שם עיי”ש שכ’ אי נמי רצין עקב בצד גודל שלא להראות כחו עושה כן אלא כי כן צריך לו לילך בשעת עבודה כדפי’ עכ”ל ודבריהם אלו אינם מובנים והנראה לי דט”ס יש שם וכנ”ל אי נמי רצין ועולין בכבש עקב כו’ ור”ל דמתני’ ה”ק היו רצין עד לכבש והולכין בכבש כדרכן עקב בצד גודל וזהו שסיימו בת”י שלא להראות כחו עושה כן כו’ פי’ במ”ש ועולין בכבש לא להראות כחן היו עולין לכבש דעולין בכבש כדרכן עקב בצד גודל אלא עיקר הקדמתן במ”ש היו רצין דהיינו עד לכבש…
R. Schiff likewise noted the textual difficulty of the Tosefos Yeshanim and therefore suggested a different reading. He proposed that the second answer means (reads) the Kohanim would run up until the ramp but from there they would walk heel-beside-toe. If this is the second answer it seems somewhat forced as its underlying rationale is presumably to restrict running when ascending the ramp, i.e. executing a designated service, and it is essentially the same as the first answer. 

Returning to R. Zimmerman, after he informs us of the aforementioned Tanaitic contradiction, he continues:
Tosefos Yeshanim… gives these two terutzim [solutions] to answer this contradiction. On the Sefer Yere’im… there is a perush [commentary] by the name To’afos Re’em where he brings all the bekiyus [referecnes] on this subject. He also writes this contradiction and explains both terutzim. And after he writes these two terutzim, he references the Tosefos Yeshanim, as quoted above.
Next, R. Zimmerman asserts that:
…with the claim of originality, Ginzberg answers the contradiction asked by the Rishonim and of Tosefos Yeshanim with these two solutions, not being aware that Tosefos Yeshanim himself wrote these two answers word for word.
Here too, Ginzberg’s text is presented and the reader can see that he nowhere asserts any claim of originality. He merely referenced the classic sources, including the Tosefos Yeshanim, and then paraphrased what some of the Rishonim asked and answered. The only phrase one can guess (or, read into) which R. Zimmerman based this imputation is where Ginzberg wrote, regarding the distinction of ascending the ramp when executing an actual part of the service, “והיה אפשר לומר”. But, this is borderline pedantic as any accustomed student of rabbinics does not expect an author to reiterate every time they allude to an aforementioned source. He essentially claimed that Ginzberg quoted the sources but “did not make the effort to look up the Tosefos Yeshanim, and he plagiarized the words of the To’afos Re’em… taking credit for himself, and taking for granted that no one will catch him in plagiarizing these two big “chiddushim” word for word from the To’afos Re’em.” By that token one must assume as well that the other sources which Ginzberg quoted and dealt with were also gotten from a different (albeit, unnamed) source. More importantly, it is not entirely clear that To’afos Re’em even spelled out both answers of Tosefos Yeshanim, precluding the possibility that Ginzberg plagiarized “word for word from the To’afos Re’em”. Never mind the strange notion that Ginzberg wouldn’t look up an explicit Tosefos Yeshanim which he cited and instead opted to quote an unclear formulation of the To’afos Re’em.

(The reference in p. 135 n. 279 to the Commentary should read: ‘עמוד 45’, and “שהרי על הלכה כהנים זו” should read ‘…הלכת כהנים זו’. For “keves” on p. 134, “keveṣ” or “kevesh” should be supplied.)
PP. 136
R. Zimmerman opined that with all the reference books on the Yerushalmi et al.
…if someone has in front of him all these sefarim when he learns Talmud Yerushalmi (he does not have to be an expert in Halachah), he could produce most of Ginzberg’s works.
Leaving aside this fantastic assumption and the certain debatable quality of the older reference books, one wonders if the careful inclusion of “most” was some admission that even with all reference books at one’s disposal, Ginzberg’s monumental ‘Legends of the Jews’, however, could certainly not have been produced by just anyone, not even today with our advanced digital databases. If this assumption is correct, one wonders how to reconcile the acknowledgment of Ginzberg’s singular erudition but then to accuse him of plagiarizing even known, classical sources.

PP. 137 

R. Zimmerman gave some examples to illustrate Ginzberg’s dependency on the various reference books and in particular Rabbi Dov Ber Ratner’s ‘Ahavas Tzion vi-Yerushalayim’ of which he alleges:
Ginzberg being aware that one may discover the obvious, that most of his references and citations are plagiarized from Ratner… and others, always tries to disqualify Ratner and others.[4]
I’m going to leave aside the obvious question as to the merit of such a claim, whether or not an author should always cite a reference book at every instance. Instead, I prefer to determine if there is any basis at all to the claim of deceit.

The first example of Ginzberg’s alleged attempt to disqualify Ratner’s work is R. Zimmerman’s oblique citation to the English introduction of the Commentary. Here are Ginzberg’s actual words:
The most important source for establishing a correct text are the numerous quotations… and one must be grateful to Baer Ratner (1852-1917) for collecting them in twelve volumes of his work… The parallels must however be used with great caution for the following reasons…
Ginzberg then continued to list three sound and ostensibly true critiques and words of caution.[5] Perhaps interpretation is in the eyes of the reader so suffice it to say there is no readily discernible attempt to “disqualify Ratner’s work”. Conversely, in Ginzberg’s Seride Yerushalmi, after he described the importance of collecting and collating quotes of Yerushalmi as found in Rishonim, he stated “וכבר התחיל במצוה הרב הגדול וכו’ כמוה”ר בער ראטנער נ”י בספרו יקר הערך ורב השבח ספר “אהבת ציון וירושלים” אשר בו העיר על גרסאות הירושלמי שבספרי הראשונים והאיר עיני לומר הירושלמי.”” (New York 1909, intro. IV). Such statements would be counterproductive and ineffective if attempting to disqualify a work.

IBID
He copies from Ratner verbatim without mentioning his name.
The reference is given to Commentary p. 54 where Ginzberg indeed quoted the same two passages from the Yalkut which Ratner quoted. Now, even before analyzing the material one must wonder if two authors cite the same classical and relevant sources is that sufficient to presume one copied from the other?[6] In any case, if one reads the detailed discussion of Ginzberg it is unmistakable that he independently studied and scrutinized the sources for he included much detail of which Ratner does not give the slightest mention. Furthermore, mention should be made of the fact that the referenced volume of Ratner was published in 1901 and the first volume of Ginzberg’s ‘Legends’, a work which had begun in 1903 was published in 1909 (JPS 2003[7], intro. XVI). There, in describing the distance between earth and heaven (the focus of the aforementioned Yalkut) Ginzberg referenced the Yerushalmi under discussion in addition to numerous other sources (ibid. p. 10 n. 31 & 32). Interestingly, he did not, however, cite the Yalkut which he later cited in his Commentary. With intent to minimize Ginzberg’s scholarship we can fault him for not referencing the Yalkut in the notes to his ‘Legends’. But, an obvious explanation can be, due to the enormous and difficult task in reworking all available ancient texts and incorporating them into a flowing narrative by necessity would require paraphrasing and omitting subtle Aggadic amplifications. The passage in the Yalkut, which Ginzberg expresses doubts per its original text, contains almost identical phrasing as the Yerushalmi and therefore added nothing for his sources. Had Ginzberg only known about the Yalkut passages from Ratner he should have referenced it in his ‘Legends’. This is, again, leaving aside the perplexing claim that someone who organized and authored the intricate, colossal and scholarly sources and discussions in the notes to the ‘Legends’ did not independently know the Yalkut, a primary text quoted throughout the ‘Legends’.

IBID
…he writes “many erred” because they did not know the sources, but the sources are written by Ratner…
Ginzberg commented that a particular passage of the Yerushalmi is found similarly in the Bavli, and while some Rishonim/Geonim quote the passage as it’s reflected in the Yerushalmi Ginzberg posited that their source was from the Bavli, unlike Ratner who quoted the parallels in the Sheëltot and BH”G and determined that their source was the Yerushalmi. Ginzberg concluded the brief comment by exclaiming
וטעו אלה שאמרו שבהג והשאלתות השתמשו כאן בירושלמי, עיין מה שכתבתי גואניקא א’, פד.
Ginzberg clearly was taking issue with what some erroneously assumed that the Yerushalmi was the common source for those two authorities, not that some did not know the sources. Besides for his objection being rather clear, when one examines the reference to Geonica they are met with a more detailed analysis of this error. As if it’s not explicit enough, there Ginzberg wrote:
“In his learned scholia… Ratner does not hesitate to attribute it to the Yerushalmi as Rabbi Aha’s source, and yet it can be readily demonstrated, from the words of the Sheëltot, that it goes back to the Babli.” 
P.138
Again, Ginzberg writes ‘Ratner did not indicate this source’, and this is an outright falsification, because in that same place Ratner quoted the source.
The reference here is to Commentary (p. 75 fn. 84). Ginzberg writes
לאוהבו של מלך שבא והרתיק על פתחו של מלך. במחזור ויטרי שי”ג (וראטנער לא העיר על מקור זה) גרס, תערו במקום פתחו, וזה יותר מדויק…
In the parenthesis, after “מקור זה”, a footnote reads
וכן לא העיר על הילקוט… אשכול… ושלחן ארבע שמביאים דברי הירושלמי על התכיפות
R. Zimmerman must have been referring to the Yalkut reference since Ratner (cited by R. Zimmerman) does not refer to Mahzor Vitri, Eshkol or Shulhan Shel Arba. Yet, even the Yalkut is only cited by Ratner on the preceding piece of Yerushalmi “מי שתוכף לסמיכה שחיטה”. On the piece under discussion, indicated by the caption of Ginzberg’s quote, Ratner only makes reference to the Amsterdam ed. of the Yerushalmi and did not note the textual variants contained in the Yalkut. Aside for this not being “an outright falsification”, the language used to quote Ginzberg is misleading. R. Zimmerman specifically referred to the footnote in Commentary, though it does not say there “Ratner did not indicate this source”; that exact phrasing is in the main text regarding the Mahzor Vitry which Ratner did not reference. The footnote says (if rendered in English) “he also did not indicate A, B and C.” If one were to object that A was indeed indicated by Ratner then a fairer phrasing would be something to the effect of “one of the sources was quoted by Ratner” thereby not wholly discrediting the author’s point. 

At this junction I’d like to refer to one piece produced in the Hebrew section (p. 211) as it directly relates to this piece. Ginzberg’s aforementioned text is quoted and then R. Zimmerman notes
מ”ש “במחזור ויטרי שי”ג גרס תערו במקום פתחו” לא היה ולא נברא. וזה לשונו [במחזור וויטרי] סימן י”ז [עמוד 13] א”ר חמי של מי שאינו סומך גאולה לתפלה למה הוא דומה לאוהבו של מלך שבא והרתיק על פתחו של מלך… וכו’. ואמנם הגירסא זו [תרעו ולא כמ”ש גינזבורג תערו] הובא בספר המנהיג [דיני תפלה, עמוד מ”ד, הוצאת מוסד הרב קוק] וכבר ציינה ראטנער [אהבת ציון וירושלים, צד 11] וזה המחבר זייף דברי ראטנער כדרכו. ואמנם כך פירשו שמה המחזור וויטרי, תרפ”ד, דף 31, כמו שציין גינזבורג אלא שהרי המחזור וויטרי סותר את עצמו…
Admittedly I’m unsure what to make of this protest. R. Zimmerman unabashedly quotes a second text from Mahzor Vitry, which Ginzberg was explicitly not referring to, and then impugns Ginzberg of quoting a spurious text from Mahzor Vitry (and plagiarizing from Ratner), despite R. Zimmerman’s subsequent acknowledgment that Mahzor Vitry does elsewhere contain the very text quoted by Ginzberg. Additionally, the bracketed words, which dismiss Ginzberg’s quote of “תערו”, are also disingenuous since Ginzberg was not referencing the Manhig’s text at all. This also brings us back to my earlier suspicion of the editor’s methods: Who inserted these erroneous brackets? Was R. Zimmerman being unfair or was the editor unmindful?

In summation, a pattern emerges before the reader which betrays a vendetta against Ginzberg; picayune criticisms and inflated accusations which don’t hold much water. Any time a reference provided by Ginzberg had been cited elsewhere it is automatically assumed to be stolen and any explanation offered is deemed unlearned, unless there is precedence to it then it is assumed to be plagiarized. It appears it was Ginzberg himself who was the object of R. Zimmerman’s attacks, while grasping at straws under the pretense of a scholarly critique. One cannot but wonder why R. Zimmerman did not publish these galleys while Ginzberg was alive, affording him the opportunity to respond. It is not as if R. Zimmerman was one to shy from polemicizing, as he famously engaged with R. Menachem M. Kasher over the International Date Line matter. Had R. Zimmerman published the materials while Ginzberg was still alive perhaps he, and its current readership, would have merited the author’s own rebuttal.[8]
___________
 
*My thanks to the editors at the Seforim Blog and R. Moshe Maimon for reviewing the paper and offering their suggestions.
[1] For a brief biographical sketch, see the journal Yeshurun (Israel 2012, Vol. 27, 855ff.).
[2] JQR (April 1943, p. 433).
[3] Marc B. Shapiro, Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox (Scranton 2006, p. 13 n. 45, 31-21; for R. Gifter see n. 117). It would not be out of place to note how R. Zimmerman addressed Prof. Saul Lieberman, 

לחד מתקיפי דורנו הגאון המופלא הבקי בכל מכמני התורה והחכמה
(Shapiro, ibid. p. 42), while Lieberman referred to Ginzberg
 
מרא דהלכתא ומרא דאגדתא הגר”ל גינצבורג
 
(Sinai, Jerusalem 5739, p. 225; repub. Mehkarim BeTorat Eretz Yisrael, Jerusalem 1991, p. 127). On a different occasion Lieberman estimated:
ודבר אחד מבליט את גינצבורג מתוך כל החכמים שקדמו לו. בספריהם של בעלי “חכמת ישראל”, ואפילו מן הגדולים שבהם, אתה מוצא לפעמים טעויות גסות בפירושן ובפשטן של הסוגיות אשר לפניהם. מה שאין כן אצל גינצבורג העומד למעלה מזה. בכל ספריו ומאמריו המרובים אין אף פעם טעויות ממין זה ודומה להן. ואין לזלזל בפרט חשוב זה, כי טעויות גסות מן המין הנ”ל פוסלות את כל הספר בעיני בני תורה והמחבר מאבד על-ידי זה את הסמכות ואת ההשפעה שלו. ועוד זאת: גינצבורג באחת מחוברותיו “תשובה בדבר יינות הכשרים והפסולים למצוה”… הראה את כוחו גם בפסק הלכה כאחד הרבנים הגדולים, ואף בני הישיבה שאין להם עסק עם חכמת ישראל רואים בו מתוך ספרו זה אחד משלהם, את העילוי מישיבת טלז וסלובודקה. 

(ibid., pp. 613-614)
[4] Noteworthy is Ratner’s own declaration that in preparation for his volume on mas. Rosh Hashanah he utilized Ginzberg’s Seride Yerushalmi on Rosh HaShanah:…היו לנגד עיני הספר היקר שרידי ירושלמי מאת הרב הגדול ר’ לוי גינצבורג מנויארק והשתמשתי בו במס’ רה”ש (Ahavas Tzion vi-Yerushalayim, Vilna 1911, Rosh HaShanah, petah davar). Indeed the two had maintained correspondence even prior to the publication of Seride Yerushalmi, as is evident from the letter Ratner quoted which he received from Ginzberg (Ahavas Tzion vi-Yerushalayim, Piotrków 1908, Pesahim p. 55) and in the subsequent volumes he continued to use Ginzberg’s Seride Yerushalmi and Geonica. Incidentally, one instance akin to the “trivial and casual tone” but in Ratner’s work which, with equal justice, should have awakened the ire of R. Zimmerman, Ratner wrote: המפרשים יגעו בזה לפרש, אבל הגי’ הנכונה בשרידי ירושלמי… (Ahavas Tzion vi-Yerushalayim, Vilna 1913, Bez. p. 10).
[5] Similar words of caution were likewise expressed a few years later by another contemporaneous eminent scholar and expert on Talmud Yerushalmi, Professor Saul Lieberman (HaYerushalmi Kiphshuto, N.Y. & Jerusalem 1995, intro. p. 24). The words of caution had already proven to be wise and advisory as Lieberman, earlier in his ‘Al HaYerushalmi’ (Jerusalem, 1929), in multiple instances called attention to some mistakes in Ahavas Tzion vi-Yerushalayim. Cf. also J.N. Epstein in Mehkarim BeSifrut HaTalmud uVeleshonot HaShamiot, Jerusalem 1988, Vol. 2 Part 1, p. 263 n. 1. More currently, Prof. Yaacov Sussmann acutely demonstrated the shortcomings of Ratner’s magnum opus in the journal Mada’ei HaYahadut (World Union of Jewish Studies 2002, vol. 41 pp. 23; my thanks to R. Eliezer Brodt for this last reference.)
[6] It would appear that the only distinction with regards to Ginzberg is that he belonged to the “Chochmas Yisreol” camp which R. Zimmerman frequently disparaged. Otherwise, what would prevent R. Zimmerman from leveling the same charges against R. Chaim Heller, a universally recognized talmid hacham and scholar par excellence, who compiled a collection of parallel sources of the Yerushalmi in his essays ‘HaMa’alot LeShlomo’ (LeShelomo, Berlin, 1910, 246ff.) and ‘A”D [‘Al Derech] Mesoret HaShas BeYerushalmi’ (LeDovid Zvi, Berlin 1914, 55ff.), both published after Ratner’s Ahavas Tzion vi-Yerushalayim? The same can be said for R. Ze’ev Wolf Rabinovitz’s ‘Sha’are Torath Eretz Israel’ (Jerusalem, 1940) who certainly made use of Ahavas Tzion vi-Yerushalayim but only seldom referenced it, as did R. Shlomo Goren in his ‘HaYerushalmi HaMefurash’ (Jerusalem, 1961). Is one to accuse them too of plagiarism in all the instances they could have quoted Ratner? Conversely, in his review of Prof. Ginzberg’s posthumously published fourth volume of the Commentary and R. Goren’s HaYerushalmi (Kirjath Sepher, Jerusalem, vol. 33 p. 199), Professor Avraham Goldberg noted the common sources often cited by both in drawing parallels between the Yerushalmi and other rabbinic texts, yet he apparently saw no oddity and did not go as far as to accuse the later of the two, R. Goren, of plagiarism, for obvious reason.
This point of common sources is of serious significance as it relates to multiple instances where R. Zimmerman alleges the charge of plagiarism. One in particular is found in the Hebrew section (199ff.) where R. Zimmerman claims that Ginzberg copied from Jehiel Bornstein and the texts of both of these figures is then presented side-by-side (in Bornstein’s text “היה ראוי לו” should read “היה נראה לי”; “את” in “את הכוכבים הסמוכים לארץ” should be omitted; “ג’ פעמים”should read “ג’ כוכבים”; “אולי ישיבני” should read “…ישיבנו”; “שיבאו השמש והריח” should read “…והירח”; “לא” in “לא נבעו להם” should be omitted; in Ginzberg’s text “ורבי חנינא כוונו” should read “ורבי ור’ חנינא כוונו”; “רבי ב’ דקים” should read “רק ב’ דקים”). The subject under discussion pertains to the solar and lunar rotations in calculating the time of twilight (ben hashmashot). R. Zimmerman points out that Bornstein had explained the Talmudic passage in an essay published in the journal ‘HaTekufah’ (Warsaw 5786) and Ginzberg copied his explanation, even including what Bornstein had inserted in parenthesis, except that the former Anglicized the word “refraction” [presumably to conceal the plagiarism]. In truth, there’s reason to believe that Ginzberg had seen Bornstein’s essay since he referenced Bornstein’s incipient essay in his ‘Legends’ (JPS Philadelphia 1968, VI p. 129 n. 758). However, since the objective was to explain a Talmudic passage, to offer “the simple peshat”, avouched by the titular “פירושים וחדושים”, is it incredulous that Ginzberg independently arrived at the same explanation? Did R. Goren, who suggested the same explanation in his HaYerushalmi (p. 8), also plagiarize from Bornstein or Ginzberg? The parenthesis in question are in fact a parenthetical explanatory gloss which would have rightfully been placed as such by any commentator expounding the given Talmudic passage and the usage of the word “refraction” is common locution for the subject under discussion. Let us not forget that Ginzberg was a highly competent mathematician to the extent that Albert Einstein was impressed with his knowledge in mathematics (cf. The Responsa of Professor Louis Ginzberg, N.Y. & Jerusalem 1996, intro. pp. 3, 15). In all likeliness, an individual of such caliber would have independently comprehended this passage, as did Bornstein. Furthermore, the collated texts of Ginzberg and Bornstein bear very dissimilar phraseology in their attempts to explain the passage. (See also Heshey Zelcer’s comparison of three later commentaries on this passage, Ḥakirah N.Y. 2004, vol. 1 p. 113).
[7] This edition of the Legends should be used with caution as there are numerous typographical and referential errors in the main text as well as in the notes. As with all publications, Ginzberg’s Commentary was at the mercy of its publishers and it too suffered corrupted passages, some of which he communicated to S. Petrushka (see below, fn. 8).
[8] For instance, Simcha Petrushka published in the Bitzaron periodical a letter which he had sent Ginzberg containing questions and notes on his Commentary. Upon receiving a letter in response to each of his claims, Petrushka had the letter published in the following Bitzaron issue (N.Y. 1945, vol. XII, 214ff.).



Book Announcement: Volume Five of Amudim beToldot haSefer haIvri

Book Announcement: Volume Five of Amudim beToldot haSefer haIvri

By Eliezer Brodt

I am very happy to announce the recent publication (and Sale) of an important work, which will be of great interest to readers of the Seforim Blog, the fifth volume of, Amudim be-Toldot ha-Sefer ha-Ivri by Professor Yaakov Shmuel Spiegel, of Bar-Ilan University’s Talmud department.

As I have written in the past, Professor Spiegel is one of the most prolific writers in the Jewish academic scene, authoring of over 160 articles and 18 books (16 of those are publications for the first time of works which remained in manuscript). Many suspect that he knows the secrets of Hashbot Hakulmos (automatic writing) (about which see here).

His articles cover an incredibly wide range of subjects related to many areas of Jewish Studies, including history of Rishonim, piyutim authored by Rishonim, bibliography and minhaghim, to name but a few. His uniqueness lies not only in the topics but also that his work has appeared in all types of publications running the gamut from academic journals such as Kiryat SeferTarbizSidraAlei Sefer, Assufot, TeudahKovetz Al Yad and also in many prominent Charedi rabbinic journals such a YeshurunYerushasenuChitzei Giborim, Moriah, Sinai and Or Yisroel. It is hard to define his area of expertise, as in every area he writes about he appears to be an expert!

Worth noting that recently thanks to the hard work of a dear friend of mine, all of his published articles are available for free download here.

He has edited and printed from manuscript many works of Rishonim and Achronim on Massekhes Avos and the Haggadah Shel Pesach (and IYH some more are on the way). He is of the opinion, contrary to that of some other academics, that there is nothing non-academic about printing critical editions of important manuscript texts. Although there is a known “belief” in the academic world, “publish or perish,” which some claim is the cause of weak articles and books, at times, Spiegel’s prolific output does nothing to damper the quality of his works.

Another point unique to Speigel’s writings, besides his familiarity with all the academic sources, he shows great familiarity with all the classic sources from Chazal, Geonim, Rishonim and Achronim, to even the most recent discussions in Charedi literature – this bekius (breadth) was apparent well before the advent of search engines of Hebrew books and Otzar Ha-hochmah. Alongside all this is his penetrating analysis and ability to raise interesting points.

Another point of interest is although he is an Academic and from the Mizrachi world, he is on very good terms with various Charedei scholars. In his first few volumes, he thanks R’ Yehoshua Mondshine and Rabbi Dovid Tzvi Hillman for their useful comments. In other volumes he thanks R’ Yaakov Stahl. In his two most recent volumes he thanks Rabbi Shaul Alter, Rosh Yeshiva of Ger who has started reading and commenting about his material.

Some of his articles were collected into a volume called Pischei Tefilah u-Mo’ad, which was reviewed a few years back here on the Seforim Blog. This volume is currently out of print.

One of Professor Spiegel’s main areas of interest has been the History of the Jewish Book. He has written numerous articles on the subject and published four books on this topic in a series called Amudim be-Toldot ha-Sefer ha-Ivri

Volume one was first printed in 1996 and is called Amudim be-Toldot ha-Sefer ha-IvriHaghot u-Maghim. It was reprinted with many important additions in 2005 (copies are still available). It was reviewed by Dan Rabinowitz and myself, a few years back here on the Seforim Blog.

The second volume is called Amudim be-Toldot ha-Sefer ha-Ivri; Kesivah Vehatakah. This volume is currently out of print and will hopeful be the subject of a book review by Dan Rabinowitz and myself in the near future.

The third volume is called Amudim be-Toldot ha-Sefer ha-Ivri;Bisharei Hadefus and is out of print. (See here).

The fourth volume is called Amudim be-Toldot ha-Sefer ha-Ivri:Hadar Hamechaber (copies are still available).

I think that anyone who has an interest in the Jewish Book will enjoy this work immensely.

In the near future I hope to review this work in depth.

I am selling copies of this work; part of the proceeds helps the efforts of the Seforim Blog.

For more information about purchasing this work, feel free to contact me at Eliezerbrodt@gmail.com

To get a sense of what exactly this new book is about, here are the beginning of the Table of Contents (or view the entire Table of Contents as a PDF):