An enigmatic Pseudo-Shklov edition of Barukh She’amar
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An enigmatic Pseudo-Shklov edition of Barukh She’amar[1]
By Marvin J. Heller
A title-page describing the work as an 1820 Shklov press publication is indicative of an enigmatic pseudo-edition of Baruch She’amar, a halakhot work pertaining to Sefer Torah, tefillin, and mezuzot by R. Simeon bar Eliʻezer (d. c. 1360). The author of Barukh She’amar, R. Simeon bar Eliʻezer (d. c. 1360), was born in Saxony, Germany and died in Eretz Israel. Orphaned at the age of eight, Simeon was adopted and raised by R. Issachar, a scribe who taught Simeon his craftsmanship, at which Shimon developed such expertise that R. Solomon ben Jehiel Luria (Maharshal, c. 1510-1574) referred to Simeon as “the head of all scribes.”[2]
There is confusion as to the actual dates and places of printing of this imprint. The title-page clearly gives Shklov as the place of printing and dates it with the chronogram “[We must] teach the children of Judah the archer’s bow קסת [קשת] ללמד בני יהודה (580 = 1820)” (II Samuel 1:18). However, to get the date 1820 the shin ש (300) in the verse has been replaced with a sameh ס (60) for the total of 580 = 1820. Nevertheless, bibliographic sources are in agreement that the publication place of the 1820 Barukh She’amar was Minkowce (Minkovtsy), a village in Podolia near Belarus in north-eastern Poland. However, there were earlier editions of Baruch She’amar issued in Dubno in 1796 and again in Shklov in 1804.
The two presses noted in conjunction with the printing of the subject editions of Baruch She-Amar are in Shklov and Minkowce (Minkovtsy). The former location, Shklov, is in the Mogilev region of Belaurus on the Dnieper river, approximately 410 km. from Vilna. It was home to a Jewish community dating to the late seventeenth century. A charter permitting Jewish settlement in Shklov was first received in 1668. Not long after, according to a visiting diplomat in 1699, Jews were “the richest and most influential class of people in the city.” By 1776 the Jewish population of Shkolov was 1,367. Shklov was an intellectual center as well as being an important commercial center in the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.[3] Hebrew presses in Shklov date to the late eighteenth century and as many as 226 Hebrew titles are attributed to that location until 1835. Minkowce, in contrast, is in the Kamenets-Podolski district of the Ukraine. A smaller community, its Jewish population in 1765 was 375. A Hebrew press was active there from 1795 to 1812, publishing almost forty titles.[4]
1804, Baruch She’amar, Courtesy of the National Library of Israel
1820, Baruch She’amar, Courtesy of Virtual Judaica
Entries in bibliographic works for Baruch She’amar consistently question the title-page of the 1820 edition’s place of publication when recording this work. Ch. B. Friedberg, in the Bet Eked Sefarim, records several editions of Baruch She’amar, among them [Minkowce 1795], Shklov 1804, and [Minkowce 1820]. In his Hebrew typography in Poland Friedberg records Baruch She’amar under Minkowce, 1796 and 1820 and under Shklov the 1804 edition of that work, dated קסת ללמד בני יהודה (564 = 1804). Vinograd, in the Thesaurus, lists a 1795 edition of Baruch She’amar referencing Friedberg, noting that it is questionable and an 1820 edition in which the title-page states Shklov, and in the entry for that work under the latter location has 1804 and 1820 entries, and for the 1820 edition referring the reader to Minkowce. Apart from these editions there was, as noted above, a prior 1796 Dubno imprint as well as several later editions.[5]
The text and format of the 1804 and 1820 editions are alike, both quartos (40: 32 ff.) and the title-pages of the two editions of Baruch She’amar even employ the same chronogram, modified to reflect the date of publication. Both title-pages credit R. Israel ben Issachar Ber from Ohilov for bringing the book to press, apparently the latter a repetition from the earlier printing. However, the 1804 Baruch She’amar names the printers as Aryeh ben Menahem, Aryeh Leib ben Schneer Feibush, Abraham ben Jacob, and Shabbetai ben Ziyyon as the printers. In contrast, the 1820 edition does not name the printer.
Abraham Yaari has entries for both Shklov and Minkowce in his bibliographical articles on those locations. In his article on Shklov he writes that a partial edition of Baruch She’amar had been printed previously in Dubno in 1796 and this, the 1804 edition, was the first complete printing of that work. He adds that Friedberg’s entries are in error and that the 1820 [Shklov] edition does not exist. Concerning the 1820 Minkowce edition, Yaari informs that there is an approbation from R. Judah Leib ben Zevi ha-Kohen Av Bet Din in Minkowce dated 11 Kislev 1820 (November 29, 1819) who refers to the earlier Minkowce printing and states that it is now being reprinted here, that is, in Minkowce. Yaari again takes issue with Friedberg, concluding “in truth, a complete edition was first printed in Shklov in 1804 (and based on that edition it was printed in Minkowce in 1820). A partial edition was printed in Dubno in 1796 and perhaps this is the reason for the errors.”[6]
1796, Barukh She’amar, Courtesy of the Library of Agudas Chassidei Chabad Ohel Yosef Yitzhak
While Yaari does appear to accurately summarize these editions he does not explain why the title-page of the 1820 Baruch She’amar clearly states Shklov as the place of printing rather than Minkowce. It is well known that in several instances the place of printing and the publication dates were modified to mislead the censor. However, that is not the case with other titles printed in both of our locations and the subject matter of Baruch She’amar on the halakhot pertaining to scribal arts is not one likely to attract the censor’s attention.
The printers of the 1820 edition removed the names of the printers from the 1804 title-page; it seems highly unlikely that they would have omitted correcting the publication place name. Moreover, even if in copying the title-page from the previous edition had been an oversight such an improbable error, if it had occurred, would certainly have quickly necessitated a stop-press correction. Even if caught later it seems improbable that the publisher would have distributed the work as is. Moreover, it also seems improbable that this copy of the 1804 edition would have been subject to copyright restrictions. There is another important omission from the 1820 edition, that is, the editor, Israel ben Aryeh Leib’s apologia, at the end of the work.
There are, however, in addition to those noted above, significant likenesses between the two works. First, excepting the front matter and apologia, the texts are set, line for line, in an identical manner. Moreover, the fonts appear to be alike. The reader should compare the two like pages below and drew his/her own conclusion. Perchance, the Minkowce printer acquired remaining copies of the 1804 edition, added the new front and back matter and reissued the work. Why did he do so?
1804, Baruch She’amar, Courtesy of the National Library of Israel
1820, Baruch She’amar , Courtesy of Virtual Judaica
Perhaps, and this is highly speculative, he felt that publishing this edition of Baruch She’amar as a pseudo-Shklov publication would give it greater marketability. If so, that should also have been true as well of other Minkowce publications. Or maybe he simply did not want to put his name on someone else’s work. Finally, we are left with the question as to why R. Judah Leib ben Zevi ha-Kohen’s approbation, which helps identify the place of publication, was printed with Baruch She’amar. Possibly including the approbation was important for the reasons that approbations were obtained, and it certainly would have been unconscionable, having gotten the Av Bet Din‘s approbation, to not print it.
We are left with a teku (an unresolved question).
[1] I would like to thank Eli Amsel of Virtual Judaica for bringing the 1820 edition of Baruch She-amar to my attention and Eli Genauer for reading the article and for his corrections. [2] Hirsch Goldwurm, ed., The Rishonim (Brooklyn, 1982), p. 147. [3]The Encyclopedia of Jewish life Before and During the Holocaust, editor in chief, Shmuel Spector; consulting editor, Geoffrey Wigoder; foreword by Elie Wiesel II (New York, 2001), III p. 1170; Yeshayahu Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book. Part I Indexes. Books and Authors, Bibles, Prayers and Talmud, Subjects and Printers, Chronology and Languages, Honorees and Institutes. Part II Places of print sorted by Hebrew names of places where printed including author, subject, place, and year printed, name of printer, number of pages and format, with annotations and bibliographical references II (Jerusalem, 193-95), pp. 689-95 [Hebrew]. [4]The Encyclopedia of Jewish II (New York, 2001.). p. 826). Vinograd II pp.457-458. [5] Ch. B. Friedberg, Bet Eked Sefarim (Tel Aviv, 1951), bet 1431 [Hebrew]; idem. History of Hebrew Typography in Poland from its beginning in the year 1534 and its development to the present. . . . Second Edition, Enlarged, improved and revised from the sources (\(Tel Aviv, 1950), pp. 91,121, 123 [Hebrew]; Yeshayahu Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book. Listing of Books Printed in Hebrew Letters Since the Beginning of Printing circa 1469 through 1863 II (Jerusalem, 1993-95), pp. 457, 458, 692, 694 [Hebrew]. [6] Avraham Yaari, “Hebrew Printing in Minkovtsy,” Kiryat Sefer 19 (1942-43), pp. 274-75 [Hebrew]; idem. “Hebrew Printing in Shklov,” KS 22 (1945-46), pp. 141-42 [Hebrew].
Concerning Athei Merahiq, Nasog Ahor, and the Ravia Mugrash, and More
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Concerning Athei Merahiq, Nasog Ahor, and the Ravia Mugrash, and More
by Rabbi Avi Grossman
(The author would like to express his gratitude to those who supported the recent publication of his Haggadat Hapesah. Contact him at avrohom.grossman@gmail.com to obtain a copy. Parts of this post originally appeared here.)
Recently, I was privileged to be part of a fun-yet-esoteric discussion on matters of Hebrew grammar. First, some background: there is a grammatical phenomenon in Biblical Hebrew known as “nasog ahor,” literally, “stepped back.” In certain words that are accented on the last syllable but have an earlier syllable that is open, sometimes the accent is shifted to that earlier syllable if the proceeding, grammatically connected word is accented on one of its earlier syllables. Examples with which many are familiar include the blessing on the Torah, wherein the word בחר, when connected to the next word, BA-nu, becomes “a-sher BA-har BA-nu,” or the blessing on the bread, wherein the word would normally be ham-mo-TZI, but when connected to LE-hem, it becomes ham-MO-tzi LE-hem.
The second is a phenomenon that is often a consequence of the first, and it is not well known at all. “Athei merahiq,” lit. “coming from afar,” is when a word ends with an open, unaccented syllable vowelized with a qamatz or segol and is joined to the proceeding word that is accented on the first syllable, placing a dagesh in the first letter of that latter word. The fact that the first word’s last syllable is unaccented may be due to the “stepped back” phenomenon described above, but not always. Examples that come to mind from recent Torah readings include Genesis 30:33, w’A-n’tha BI, in which the beth has a dagesh, and 31:12, O-seh LACH, in which the lamed has a dagesh.
While the nasog ahor phenomenon makes sense to me, and interestingly enough, has its parallels in spoken English, for instance, I do not understand the latter phenomenon, nor am I aware of any explanation among the various authorities. However, based on the theories I outline in mybook, I can tolerate why this phenomenon of basically closing the final syllable of the first word would happen only with the segol or qamatz. The segol is a t’nu’a q’tana, a minor or short vowel, and the only t’nu’a q’tana that occurs in open, accented syllables that end words, making it more versatile than the patah, the only other short vowel that occurs in open or accented syllables, and because it does not have a natural semivowel at its end (the Y sound at the end of the long E and A sounds, or the W at the end of long O or U sounds), closing its syllable does not result in an unaccented consonant cluster, which, as explicated by Gesenius, is not allowed. As for the qamatz, it is the only t’nu’a g’dola, major or long vowel, that does not have a natural semivowel conclusion, and once again closing its syllable does not result in the formation of a consonant cluster, although this would then require us to explain why an ordinary qamatz is treated like the other major vowels if it is lacking this essential feature.
Like every rule, athei merahiq has its exceptions. For example, we read A-sa LO in Genesis 37:3 , and in that case, the lamed should have a dagesh, but it does not, or in 1:5, QA-ra LAY-la, and once again the lamed should have a dagesh, but it does not. It seems that whenever a past tense, singular, masculine verb in the pa’al conjugation that ends with a silent hei or alef is accented on its first syllable, it does not place a dagesh at the beginning of the next word. I have not yet found an explanation as to why this class of verbs should not follow the athei merahiq rule, and it is quite surprising being that their female counterparts (words like קראה and עשתה, etc.) are sometimes accented on their first syllables and then follow the rule of athei merahiq.
Recently, Dr. Marc Shapiro, k’darko baqodesh and blogs, released anothermust-read article on the Seforim blog. In it he made the following point:
In the ArtScroll siddur, p. 86 it reads:
ועל מאורי אור שעשית, יפארוך, סלה
There is a dagesh in the ס of סלה. This means that the comma after יפארוך is a mistake, as you cannot place a dagesh in this ס if preceded by a comma.
Dr. Shapiro’s assumptions in this matter are that the samech of sela receives a dagesh because of the athei merahiq rule, meaning that the previous word, y’fa-a-RU-cha, must be connected to it, and therefore it would be wrong to have a comma between the words. If there were a comma, then the samech would not receive a dagesh. It is then that I took issue with his argument, and wrote the following to him:
Actually you can have a dagesh. For example, אַ֭שְׁרֵי יֽוֹשְׁבֵ֣י בֵיתֶ֑ךָ ע֝֗וֹד יְֽהַלְל֥וּךָ סֶּֽלָה.
This is a well-known verse from the Psalms.
Now, you might be initially inclined to dismiss this example, as in this case, sela is connected to the previous word by the trop, but the truth is that in the Sifrei Emeth, what would normally be a mercha tip’ha (pause) siluq succession (in the other 24 books), does not and cannot exist when the word with the siluq is less than three whole syllables (or when accented before the last syllable, four whole syllables). Instead, what would be the tip’ha, the mafsiq, becomes the m’shareth of the siluq. For example, in Chronicles we have this well-known verse
The trop of the word ki is not the tip’ha-mafsiq that exists in the other books, rather, it is also a m’shareth:
This happens to also hold true for the etnah in Sifrei Emeth, which, according to R’ Breuer, and as you can see from this example, has the weight of a zaqef of the other books, and also converts its mafsiqmishneh into a m’shareth when the word with the etnah is “short.” I have yet to figure out why this is. So, for example, if the verse lha’alotner (mafsik) tamid were to be in Psalms, it would just be lha’alot ner tamid. Or the verse nagila w’nism’ha vo. In the Torah, it would have been nagila w’nism’ha (pause) Bo, but because bo is a short word, it is automatically connected to the previous. Every time the word sela appears at the end of a verse, it must be connected to the previous word, even if in context, the mafsiq that was supposed to be right before it would indicate the highest grammatical disjunction. For example, in the above verse, if sela were not there, it would be read “ashrei (pause) yosh’veiveithecha; od, y’hal’lucha (full stop).” And the same is true for basically every verse in Psalms that ends with sela.
Logically, according to our accepted use of commas, all of those verses should have a comma, or perhaps even a period, right after the penultimate word. “The Lord of Hosts is with us; Our stronghold is the God of Jacob. Sela!” Yet, here sela is once again connected to the previous word.
So yes, if “m’oreior she’asita, y’faarucha, sela” were a verse in Psalms, the last two words would be connected (because y’fa’arucha is accented on an early syllable and ends with a qamatz) and the samech would have a dagesh.
Dr. Shapiro had some follow up questions:
I see that you are assuming that a tipcha equals a comma (and let’s assume we are dealing with Tehillim). Leaving aside the issue of since when do siddurim insert commas before words like they did before סלה? I have not seen that anywhere. But is a tipcha really a comma?
He also complimented me, and I wrote the following response to him:
The answer is that tip’ha is sometimes a comma. The rule in the 21 ordinary books of scripture is that tip’ha is the mafsiq before the siluq. Every verse in those books has at the very least a siluq and a tip’ha.
This needs to be clarified. There are probably only a few dozen or so verses wherein the last mafsiq before the siluq is an ethnah, but in those cases, the ethnah is preceded by a tip’ha.
However, the objective value of the tip’ha depends on the entire context of the particular verse. In a short verse, like “Adam Sheth Enosh” (I Chronicles 1:1) it corresponds to absolutely no punctuation. In וַיָּ֥זֶד יַֽעֲקֹ֖ב נָזִ֑יד וַיָּבֹ֥א עֵשָׂ֛ו מִן־הַשָּׂדֶ֖ה וְה֥וּא עָיֵֽף׃, the second tip’ha has the value of what we would call a comma, while the first tip’ha (under Yaakov) [does not.] If the word sela would ever end any verse in the 21 books, it would be preceded by a tip’ha, by definition, or perhaps the even stronger ethnah, and then you would have to examine the verse’s context and meaning to determine what ever mafsiqim are featured. As you know, in some verses, there aren’t even zaqefim, let alone etnahim, before the tip’ha, e.g. וְהָי֞וּ הַדְּבָרִ֣ים הָאֵ֗לֶּה אֲשֶׁ֨ר אָֽנֹכִ֧י מְצַוְּךָ֛ הַיּ֖וֹם עַל־לְבָבֶֽךָ׃
In contrast, the verses in Sifrei Emeth have almost half a dozen ways of ending! Some have a ravia mugrash where the tip’ha would be, some turn the final ravia into a m’shareth (like the examples I showed you earlier), and some have a string of m’shar’thim with no mafsiqim, once again due to the shortness of all the words: עֵֽינֵי־כֹ֭ל אֵלֶ֣יךָ יְשַׂבֵּ֑רוּ וְאַתָּ֤ה נֽוֹתֵן־לָהֶ֖ם אֶת־אָכְלָ֣ם בְּעִתּֽוֹ׃
My guess is that this has something to do with certain musical rules.
The sages noted that the verses of Sifrei Emeth tend to be shorter than the verses in the rest of the Bible. I would also add that after careful analysis, including a thorough comparison of the verses and passages that appear in both (David’s victory song, for example), the verses of Emeth tend to have less mafsiqim. I would really like to find someone with whom to work to understand these phenomena, but alas, I immigrated to Israel after R’ Breuer and R’ Kappah left us.
Therefore, in answer to your question, I insert the comma because that is how the verse is to be understood when translated, and that is how the English language and modern Hebrew work, but in the scriptural form, the laws of grammar/music dictate that the pause be subsumed due to the shortness of the word. My belief is that the siddur makers should always leave in the trop where ever possible, but certain liturgies are not biblical, and therefore the siddur makers try to help the reader by adding our Western conventions.
(75:4 is also a perfect example, by the way: נְֽמֹגִ֗ים אֶ֥רֶץ וְכׇל־יֹשְׁבֶ֑יהָ
אָנֹכִ֨י תִכַּ֖נְתִּי עַמּוּדֶ֣יהָ סֶּֽלָה
If we were to parse this verse using modern commas and periods, the period would be before the word sela. And that is how, for example, the JPS 1917 has it.)
Consider: How should one say “al tig’u bimshihai“? In Chronicles, there is a disjunctive pashta on the first word, leaving the dagesh in the following beth, but in the Psalms, tig’u has a conjunctive mercha, making the next word “vimshihai.” Or “Lo tirtsah, lo tinaf.” When read with one set of trop, the tavim are strong, while when read with the other set, the tavim are weak. When you are speaking or lecturing, or perhaps reciting those verses as part of your prayers but not as part of whole paragraphs, which set of trop do you use? I have no answer at the moment. But this doubt must exist when the liturgy adds sela to the end of a sentence. Do we read it as though it were one of the Psalms?
In the three books of Emeth, there are many verses that conclude with a series of connected words, whereas in the other books, such a series would demand a number of mafsiqim preceding the end of the verse. However, with regards to the beginnings of verses, the opposite is true, when we deal with unusually long words. In the books of Emeth, the tendency is to have more mafsiqim, whereas in the other books, there are sequences of many connected words, usually leading into the flourishing mafsiqim of the fourth level, pazer, t’lisha, gershayim, etc. This might have something to do with those flourishes. Because the books of Emeth are more musical, the flourishes tend to be at the ends, so that would allow for more conjunctives, whereas in the other books, the flourishes and conjunctives are concentrated at the beginnings of verses.
…
There is much to be said about the ravia mugrash (the trop that marks words such this: נַ֝פְשִׁ֗י,) one of the most common disjunctives found before the conclusion of verses in the books of Emeth. Most often, it does fill the role of the tip’ha found before the conclusion of the vast majority of verses in the rest of the Bible, but not always.
The zaqef gadol that occurs on “long” words that, due to their lack of an open syllable that is not accentable, can not receive a secondary accent (ta’am mishneh) is represented by the ordinary symbol for the zaqef qaton and another symbol, called a m’thiga, the symbol that normally represents the qadma or pashta, placed above the second letter of the word. Together, these two symbols signify the zaqef gadol, and not, as many believe, that the word is actually hosting both the accent of the zaqef and the secondary accent of the pashta/qadma. An illustration: לְזַ֨רְעֲךָ֔. In this case, all of the accents and musical notes should be placed on the final syllable, and no accent whatsoever is put on the first syllable, zar, the one under the m’thiga. Many are misled by the m’thiga, and it is unfortunate.
The ravia mugrash is similar to this type of zaqef gadol in that it is represented by the combination of two symbols, in this case the common ravia above the accented syllable plus another symbol, the one that normally represents the geresh, above the first letter of the word. Once again, these two symbols combine to form one unified symbol, and the presence of the geresh symbol on the first letter does not indicate secondary accentage. However, there are a number of cases in which a single word does have multiple trops, and the lesser of the two does indicate a secondary accent, for example, in words that have a munah and a zaqef qaton, or both qadma and azla (geresh), or, in rare cases, a tip’ha and an ethnah (Numbers 28:26) or the like on exceptionally long words.
The ravia mugrash mostoftenappears toward the end of a verse when what follows is a “long” word, or at least two words. Generally speaking, a “long” word is one that has three full syllables, whereas two words will do the trick even if combined they only have two full syllables. When discussing post-talmudic Hebrew poetry, the terms t’nu’a (lit., a “movement”) and yathed (lit., a “peg”) are used to describe the two types of syllables that can be formed in Hebrew. The former refers to a pure syllable, whether closed by a consonantal sound or not, while the latter refers to a pure syllable preceded by the sound of a consonant marked with a sh’wa na‘* (or a guttural letter vowelized with some sort of hataf vowel, which are types of sh’wa na’.). For the purposes of Emeth, both t’nu’oth and y’thedoth are (often literally) counted as syllables, whereas in the other books of the Bible, there are cases in which this categorical lumping is not admitted. (In later Hebrew terminology, including modern Hebrew, t’nu’a is also the word for a vowel sound, with the connection being that every syllable has but one vowel sound, with options for consonantal sounds to both precede and follow the vowel.) Rabbi Meir Mazuz uses this piyut as an example for beginners:
adon (yathed, as the alef is vowelized with a hatafpatah) ‘o-lam (two t’nu’oth, pure syllables) asher (yathed) ma-lach (two t’nu’oth)…
These definitions of syllables are entirely unlike the ones with which we are familiar from our spoken languages. Indeed, we must also keep in mind that throughout the Bible, words connected by maqqafim (hyphen-like symbols) are, for all of our grammatical intents and purposes, considered as one word. Whether a compound noun, adjective, or adverb is “hyphenated” into one compound word or not is a delicate syntactical matter, and sometimes both forms appear in a single verse.
In a particular verse, if there is only one word (according to our liberal definition) after the word that can potentially receive the ravia mugrash, in order for the ravia mugrash to appear, that ultimate word must, as we have said, have at least three syllables. Therefore, the following are not considered syllables:
Any syllable that may be after the accented syllable. That is, in words accented mil’eil, before the last syllable, the latter syllables do not count. Thus, words like KE-sef and ME-lech are considered monosyllabic for our purposes, while huq-QE-cha, and yag-GI-duare merely disyllabic.
Similarly, the patah g’nuva necessitated by the combination of long vowels closed with final guttural consonants also does not count as a syllable: ya-REI-ah and ma-NO-a’only have two syllables for our purposes, while Noah is a monosyllabic name.
Any letter vowelized with a sh’wa na’ or hataf vowel also does not form a countable syllable. Therefore, words like l’o-LAM only have two syllables. In poetry terms, both y’thedoth and t’nu’oth count as only one syllable each.
When a prefix waw with a sh’wa is converted to a shuruq because it precedes a labial letter, and therefore seemingly forms a third syllable, it still does not count, and it is viewed as though it remained a waw with a sh’wa na’. Examples: u-va-A-retz (Psalms 113:6) and u-vi-NA (Proverbs 23:23) are both still considered as disyllabic, the former because the last syllable is after the accented syllable. (When the prefix waw becomes a shuruq because the first letter of the word is vowelized with a sh’wa, in most cases a new, countable syllable is formed with the original first letter, e.g., וּשְמוֹ ush-MO or וּבְיוֹם uv-YOM, and in some exceptional cases recorded in the masora, the waw/shuruq forms its own syllable, and the subsequent sh’wa is na’ is still connected to the next syllable, e.g., u-Z’HAV (Genesis 2:12). In either of these cases, a syllable is added to the count.)
Lastly, if a word has every type of additional factor that does not increase its syllable count, i.e., both of its true syllables are preceded by some form of sh’wa na’ or hataf and it has another, third syllable after the accented syllable, then it may be considered a long word, e.g., l’sho-L’HE-cha (Proverbs 22:21), y’va-R’CHU-cha (Psalms 145:10) , and y’sha-R’THEI-ni (Psalms 101:6), but as can be seen from Psalms 145:6, asap-P’REN-na, this is not always the case.
Thus, in Proverbs 29:22, the hyphenated word rav-PA-sha is not considered two words because of the maqqaf, nor is it considered a “long word” because it only has “two syllables,” the third syllable not being considered because it proceeds the accent, and therefore the preceding word is marked with a conjunctive munah, and the same can be said about the word y’shar-DA-rech five verses later, while in Psalms 145:4 EIN HE-qer does allow for a preceding ravia mugrash despite its lack of syllables because the words remain unhyphenated.
The d’hi, (as in: ר֭וּחוֹ ) which we have addressed earlier, is also slightly misleading, due to its resemblance to both the disjunctive tip’ha of the rest of the Bible and the connectivetip’ha of Emeth, and the fact that it is always written before the word, thus never indicating which syllable is to be accented. Further, the rules we have stated above regarding the ravia mugrash before the silluq apply to the d’hi that appears before the ethnah, i.e., that it is replaced by a connective trop in certain circumstances, but with one important addition: If no other word appears in the ethnah‘s domain before the word that is to receive the d’hi, and no other words are to appear connected to the word with the ethnah after the d’hi, the d’hi is replaced by a mercha, its counterpart conjunctive. This explains the phenomenon in the example I brought earlier, in the following verse with which many are familiar (I Chronicles 16:22):
the word is vim-shi-HAI, with a weak, veth sound. The (compound) word al-tig-G’U before the (long) wordvim-shi-HAIhas no other words before it, and therefore it is not marked with the disjunctive d’hi. This also explains the following noticeable break in the pattern in the final psalm, which is a good illustration of most of the rules we have discussed until this point:
As you can see, the word hal’luhu, is usually marked with a disjunctive, because it is a verb followed by an object composed of multiple words (as in the conclusions of these verses), but in the second and fifth verses, the first hal’luhu‘s (in blue) have no words before them, nor do the subsequent words with the ethnah’s have other conjoined words. Thus, the hal’luhu‘s in those verses lose their disjunctive d’hi’s, and the following words (or hyphenated compound word), are modified, vig-vu-ro-THAW or v’tzil-tz’lei-SHA-ma’, respectively, and the prefix beth in each word is weak. In verses 3 and 4, the word hal’luhu in the first halves is proceeded by multiple words in the domain of the ethnah (the green words), and therefore it keeps its disjunctive d’hi. Now, one may ask, why is it that in verse 5 b’tziltzlei shama’ becomes one hyphenated word, whereas in verse 3, the seemingly shorter words b’theqa shofar remain separate? The answer lies in the fact, that, based on what we wrote above, b’tziltz’lei and b’theqa are both “short” words, but b’theqa has an open syllable capable of receiving an accent, whereas b’tziltz’lei does not have an accentable syllable that would not be adjacent to the accented syllable of SHA-ma’. Its latter syllable is obviously unfit due to proximity, and its first syllable is closed, making it also ineligible. Secondary accents may only be placed on open syllables.
…
A major exception to these rules occurs a number of times in the shortest verses of Emeth. In the verses that open each of the principles speeches in Job, (3:2, 4:1, 6:1, etc.) there are only three or four words, and we find that either a ravia (in the three-word verses that introduce Elihu or Job’s speeches) or a ravia mugrash (in the four-word verses that introduce the others with the longer names) precedes the final word, even though that final word is accented on its penultimate syllable. This can be explained by the perhaps-necessary proposition that every single verse needs at least one internal disjunctive trop, and there is no other place to put one in those verses, or that the final word actually is a “long” word, and we are just left with the question as to why “way-yo-MAR,” which is normally accented milra’, is here accented mil’eil, like its counterpart way-YO-mer, which has the same meaning, but normally appears at the beginning of a phrase. I hope the readership has any insights regarding this matter.
An opposite exception is in Job 6:4, whereby the “long” word YA-‘ar-CHU-ni is still connected to the previous word. I can hypothesize that this word should be considered short, as it was once pronounced with “only” two countable syllables, as though vowelized thusly: יַעְרְכוּנִי, ya’-R’CHU-ni.
….
One will also take note of the fact that in the Mechon Mamre edition (the online edition from which I borrowed these visual aids) and the various MHK editions edited by R’ Breuer, some verses have ordinary ravia’s instead of the ravia mugrash. For example, in the last verse of Psalm 150 above, the penultimate word has a ravia, but in the various Koren publications, for instance, and other traditionally Ashkenazi texts, those words also have a ravia mugrash. Apparently, R’ Breuer was of the opinion that a ravia mugrash can only appear in verses that already have an ethnah (or one of its replacements). The others do not subscribe to such a rule. Also, I find it interesting that in verses like those that conclude the last five psalms, we find a striking pattern that effectively divides the verse into three parts, instead of the usual two. Most verses in the Psalms follow the symmetrical division pattern, with the half-way point marked by an ethnah, and the quarters marked by a d’hi and raviamugrash, respectively, but in these cases, the ordinarily symmetrical verse has the climactic Hallelujah added at the end, and because the ravia (mugrash) has to come before the silluq, what would have been the silluq is downgraded to a raviamugrash, necessitating the downgrading of the the ethnah at what would have been the verse’s midpoint, resulting in it also receiving a ravia. This dispute between the publishers and the phenomenon of the verse being effectively divided into three by the ravia’s indicates to me that for our purposes both types of ravia (ordinary and mugrash) have the same punctuational value, and that in whatever theory we use to explain the hierarchy among the ta’ameiemeth, the simple analogy of emperors, kings, viceroys (primary, secondary, and tertiary disjunctives), etc., that features in the other books of the Bible is not adequate for the books of Emeth. For example, in his introduction to the Daat Mikra Psalms, R’ Breuer wrote about how there are no “emperors” in ta’amei emeth, except for the silluqim, and how both the ravia and ethnah are on the same level, both being “kings.” I would like to offer that if we must use the nomenclature and analogies familiar from the other books, the silluq and oleh w’yoreid are the emperors, and the ethnah is the king, ravia’s are viceroys, etc., except that, in a radical departure from the rest of the Bible, most of the verses of Emeth, due to their shortness, have only one emperor, the silluq, and often the kings are also missing, as in those verses in which, as pointed out by R’ Breuer, some sort of ravia takes the ethnah‘s place because there are not enough words proceeding it that can be furthered divided.
One should also note how in the following two verses,
:וַיְדַבֵּ֣ר יְהוָ֔ה אֶֽל־אַהֲרֹ֖ן לֵאמֹֽר
and
:וַיְדַבֵּ֥ר יְהוָ֖ה אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֥ה לֵּאמֹֽר
the only difference is that the name of the object in the latter verse is slightly longer, and not even by a syllable. We see that the mere addition of a hei with a hatafpatah lengthens the name Aharon enough so that it justifies upgrading the mercha before the silluq to a tip’ha, and the tip’ha that was already marking the Divine Name to be upgraded to a zaqef. Not only would this not fly in Emeth, as I have mentioned before, this shows the general tendency of the cantillation in most biblical books to have more disjunctives, especially when close to the “emperors,” whereas in Emeth the tendency is toward more conjunctives, especially as words get closer to the primary disjunctives. It is telling that the silluq, ethnah, zaqef, and tip’ha of most of the Bible have at most two words in their immediate domains connected to them by the trop, whereas the lesser disjunctives, e.g. the pazer, t’vir, and pashta are often preceded by three and sometimes four words marked with conjunctives. A comparison of similar words and phrases indicates for example, that the disjunctive t’vir of the rest of the bible is often converted to a conjunctive in Emeth.
….
In the rest of the books of the Bible, this idea that the sh’wa na’ forms one syllable with that which follows is often preserved in the phenomenon of the athei me’rahiq. In the second reading of Wayeira, we have the combination ha-LI-la L’CHA, whereby the lamed of l’cha receives a dagesh because it is part of an accented syllable that is immediately preceded by a connected word that ends with an unaccented qamatz in an open syllable.
Yet, there is also the phenomenon that a rule that distinguishes between two possible trops is even more specific than syllable count; sometimes, for instance, whether a word is marked with a qadma or munah, both conjunctives, depends on whether that word is accented on its very first letter, and that, in turn, effects the subsequent disjunctive. Two ready examples are Deuteronomy 15:7, V’CHA, and 17:18, w’CHA-thav. Words like these are either marked 1.with a munah if accented on their first letters, or 2. marked with a qadma if accented on any other letter. These examples show how exactly this rule is followed, as in both of them the first (compound) syllable is accented, but that is not sufficient to allow for the munah. Consequently, the following words are then, despite their being eligible to receive a gershayim, marked with a geresh, as there can not be a word marked with gershayim immediately following a word marked with a qadma.
With this in mind, we can understand an unusual difference of opinion. In Numbers 33:9, most of the tiqqunim have the words שתים עשרה marked with a qadma and azla (geresh). Had the word esreh appeared alone, (which technically could not happen because the word, as vowelized, only exists in conjunction with another,) it would have been marked with a gershayim because it is accented on its latter syllable, but because the word שתֵּים, which by our definition is monosyllabic, is not accented on its firstletter, it therefore receives a qadma, which in turn converts the gershayim on עשרה into a geresh. (The word gershayim itself is unusual in that if it or any word of its mishqal were to appear in the Bible, it could never be marked with a gershayim precisely because it is accented mil’eil! It is very odd that thousands of young men are taught the trop by singing their names, thus becoming familiar with the “ger-sha-YIM.”) However, in MHK publications and in the Mechon Mamre edition, שתֵּים is marked a munah, and this makes perhaps more sense, as in the words שְתַּיִם, שְתֵּי, and שְתֵּים the taw is still strong, indicating the tradition that in these words, the sh’wa under the shin is not pronounced na’ and it would have been more appropriate for me to represent שְתֵּים as shteim, without the apostrophe I have been using to represent the sh’wa na. If the shin is indeed read in one consonant cluster with the taw, then this word is now accented on its very first letter (along with all four of its letters), thus calling for its trop to be a munah and not a qadma. In Diqduq Eliyahu and Lehem Habikkurim, this strange circumstance is illustrated by placing a phantom alef vowelized with a short vowel before the shin, thus making the shin appear to close a syllable and “immobilizing” its sh’wa. In a similar word, the singular masculine form of the imperative “drink,” שְתֵה, the shin is pronounced with a sh’wa na’ and therefore the taw is weak, while when the word שְתֵּי is prefixed with a mem, e.g., in Judges 16:28, indicating the contracted word מִן, the shin does receive a dagesh to compensate for the missing nun, making its sh’wa a sh’wa na’, and the taw does lose its dagesh.
Taking Issue with the Ish Matzliah
Rabbi Mazuz is the leading authority on all things grammatical, and it is a testament to his influence and greatness that two of his more questionable opinions, opinions that can not be reconciled with the traditions we have received, have become more and more popular, and is partly attributable to the fact that the tiqqun published by his students, Tiqqun Qor’im Ish Matzliah, and the subsequent Hummash of the same name for synagogue use have become fixtures in many synagogues.
The first involves the public reading of Genesis 35:22, the Reuben incident. According to the traditional practice, this verse describing Reuben’s actions is combined with the next verse (what should be 35:23, “And the children of Israel were twelve,” but in many editions is not numbered) thus eliminating its silluq, the Torah reader’s cue for the Targum reader, depriving the Targum reader a chance to actually read the translation to the former verse aloud, and when he hears the silluq of the latter verse, he only reads the Targum thereto. The author of the weekly letter “Tamey Torah” (spelled in Hebrew טעמי תורה, tameytorah@gmail.com) has pointed out in the name of the Rabbi Jacob Emden that this is the explanation for the alternate sets of trop that accompany the Decalogue, both iterations of which are traditionally read publicly in the ta’am elyon, a set of trop which recombines the traditional verses, i.e. rearranges the silluqim, such that some verses are thereby combined into one verse, whereas another verse is divided into multiple short verses, thus cuing to the Targum reader to read his lines after individual commandments and not actual verses. The standard set of trop is referred to as the ta’am tahton, and the usual systems of numbering the verses follow it.
For centuries now, most Jewish communities have not been reading the Targum along with the public Torah reading, and based on this explanation, there is no longer any reason for us to continue reading these three sections with the ta’am ‘elyon, and indeed there are places in which the practice of reading the Decalogue with the ta’am ‘elyon has been suspended. However, in places where the Targum is still read publicly, this upholds the talmudic imperative to not translate the account of the Reuben incident (M’gilla 4:10, Laws of Prayer and Torah Reading 12:12). Rabbi Emden’s understanding is even mentioned by Rabbi Mazuz in his introduction to his tiqqun, yet, it was his father’s practice (see Tamey Torah for written sources) to read Genesis 35:22 twice, once on its own and once connected to the next verse, in order to thereby read the verse with both sets of trop, as though to satisfy all of the opinions because we can not know which is the correct set of trop to follow. Tamey Torah has documented a number of sefarim, all of North African origin, that record this practice, which, aside from the fact that it utilizes theReductio Ad Opinionibus At Dissiderentfallacy instead of trying to come to sort of halachic solution, has the negative consequence of now having Reuben’s incident read in front of native Hebrew-speakers twice, ensuring that they clearly hear the verse as is, and maybe even provoking them to look into it further, because attention has now been drawn to it. In both this case and the next, it is surprising that the Lehem Habikkurim “died from a kashya” and altered the practice, because in other lands, the answer to his kashya (“why are there two sets of trop?”) had already been offered and accepted, thereby upholding the traditional practice. Tamey Torah also notes that the Vatican manuscript they claim as a source is misunderstood: its marginal note is merely pointing out the existence of two sets of trop, and does not literally mean that both sets should somehow be read publicly.
As a side note, the other peculiarity found in the Vatican manuscript, indicating that Genesis 35:22 should feature a zarqa–segol series in the ta’am elyon, was also included in the tiqqun. Now, there are two competing schools of thought regarding what exactly a segol is supposed to be:
Segol is a disjunctive trop on the level of an ethnah, and together they divide the verse into three parts, the first third concluding with the segol, the second with the ethnah. This explains why the segol always precedes the ethnah. (I know of only one verse in the Bible that has a segol but no ethnah.) When examining many verses, you can see that this makes a lot of sense, and is attributed to the Ibn Ezra and others, and is also endorsed by Rabbi Mazuz.
Segol is a disjunctive on the level of a strong zaqef, and when a verse calls for many trops of that level, the first becomes a segol, under specific conditions. Jacobson brings a number of verses, including I Samuel 5:3-4 to illustrate this, and this is the position of Rav Breuer, among others, and explains why the segol‘s second mishneh is a ravi’a and not a zaqef, but it does not explain why segol is always before the ethnah.
According to the common tradition, Genesis 35:22 is to be read thusly:
and the subsequent verse, which as I mentioned, is not independently numbered in many editions, appears thusly:
וַיִּֽהְי֥וּ בְנֵֽי־יַעֲקֹ֖ב שְׁנֵ֥ים עָשָֽׂר׃
Now, there are two main ways we could have combined these verses into one long verse and preserve the hierarchy of the trop:
The first verse is now only half a verse, and therefore, it’s silluq is downgraded to an ethnah, and its z’qefim and tip’hoth should be downgraded to pashtoth, r’vi’im, t’virim etc.,
or
being that the latter verse has no ethnah, we could perhaps divide the combined verse into thirds, with the first verse containing the first two thirds, and its silluq becoming an ethnah and its own ethnah becoming a segol, but, as pointed by R’ Breuer and others, even if one were to assume that a segol is a disjunctive on the level of an ethnah, there is no such thing as a segol in such proximity to an ethnah. Therefore, this possibility is ruled out.
Yet, in the original verse, the zaqef on the word ההִוא is the strongest internal disjunctive after the ethnah of אביו, and when the verses are combined, because the original ethnah is downgraded, it stands to reason that the zaqef of hahi should have been downgraded to a ravia, and certainly not upgraded to a segol as it has been in the Tiqqun Ish Matzliah. On the contrary, if the Reuben verse is then extended by a new phrase that is “ruled by an emperor,” then the segol should at least be placed where the Reuben verse’s ethnah appeared, and I would therefore argue that if anything, we could only entertain a segol on the word hahi in the ta’am tahton of that verse.
Elsewhere in the tiqqun, the words ohela (genesis 18:6 and elsewhere) and tzo’ara (ibid 19:23) are, in accordance with the opinion of the Lehem Habikkurim, accented on their last syllables, o-he’LA and tzo-a’RA’, respectively, whereas in most tiqqunim, the words are accented on their first syllables, as is seemingly indicated in the oldest manuscripts, O-he’la and TZO-a’ra’. The argument for this position is as follows: Normally, the addition of an unaccented suffix qamatz-silent hei is an alternate form of the directional el or the prefix lamed (the same suffix when accented indicates femininity). “To Hebron” can either be el hevron, or l’hevron, or hevrona. In the latter case, the accent stays on the syllable that is normally accented, and the additional syllable formed by the qamatz and silent hei is not accented. Note also what happens to a word like goshen, which is of the same mishqal as tzo’ar and ohel. The normal pronunciation of the word is GO-shen, and when the directional is appended, it becomes GOSH-na, with the shin now closing the strong vowel of the accented syllable, but in the case of these two words, the presence of the guttural letter vowelized with a hataf, hei with a hataf segol and ‘ayin with a hataf patah, respectively, creates what appears to be a third syllable. Now, according to the rules of grammar with which we are familiar, those gutturals can not receive the accents because they have hatafim, and no hataf or sh’wa na’ is accented. Further, and this is the crux of the dispute, the first syllables of these words should not receive the accents either because that would result in words that are primarily accented too far away from the end of the words, and they are vowelized with holam, necessitating the subsequent guttural letters to be vowelized with forms of hataf vowels, themselves types of shwa na’, which according to another rule, can not follow a full vowel, a tnu’a g’dola, that is accented. Normally, Hebrew words are accented milra’, on the last syllable, whereas in some cases the word is mil’eil, accented before the last syllable, but even in those cases, the accent is at least on the syllable right before the last. There is no such thing as a word accented on a syllable two or more syllables away from the last syllable, and when there is a full vowel in an accented syllable, it can be closed by a shwa nah. For example, in אומרים o-m’RIM, the accented syllable has a hiriq gadol and is closed by the (unwritten) shwa nah of the mem, and in אומר o-MER, the tzeirei of the accented syllable is closed by the shwa nah of the reish.
However this argument is mistaken, because, as we have now learned, consonants, whether guttural or not, when vowelized with sh’wa na’ or any form of hataf do not count as syllables. Therefore, in the words ohela and tzoara, it is not the case that the first of three syllables is accented. Rather, it is just that the first of two syllables is accented. Also, because this first argument could be rejected by the editors of the tiqqun because they may not hold of this theory of explaining the vowels, it must be pointed out that even according to their own theory, when words do have full vowels in their final, accented and closed syllables and the final consonant is a pronounced guttural letter (‘ayin, heth, or a non-silent (“mappiq“) hei), then we add a phantom patah between the vowel and the consonant. If words like ohela and tzo’ara were to follow this model, we would have to pronounce them like אֹ ַהְלָה Oah-la and צֹ ַעְרָה TZOa’-ra, thus adding another seeming syllable to the word. (I added spaces within these words to show where the patah sound would be inserted. In words like תפוּחַ most people know to articulate the patah between the shuruq and the final heth.) In a word like GOSH-na, we would not be confronted with any problem because we already have a precedent for closing a holam‘s accented syllable with a shin sound without having to add a phantom patah, e.g., ראש, rosh. The truth is that in these unusual words, which are ideally accented on their first syllables which feature full vowels closed by guttural consonantal sounds, we have few options.
I welcome whatever insights the readers can offer.
* For almost twenty years, I have followed the Soncino Talmud’s convention of representing the waw as a “w” and thaw as “th” in transliteration. This, despite its unpopularity, eliminates many ambiguities and more accurately reflects the proper pronunciation.
1. Another apostate was Rabbi Nehemiah ben Jacob ha-Kohen of Ferrara, who was an important supporter of R. Moses Hayyim Luzzatto during the controversy about him.[1]Here is the the final page of the haskamah he wrote in 1729 for R. Aviad Sar Shalom Basilea’s Emunat Hakhamim.
R. Isaac Lampronte, in a halakhic discussion in his Pahad Yitzhak, refers to Nehemiah, but not by name.[2] He calls him אחד מן החכמים רך בשנים אשר אחרי כן הבאיש ריחו כנודע. In R. Hananel Nepi and R. Mordechai Samuel Ghirondi, Toldot Gedolei Yisrael (Trieste, 1853), p. 229, they write about Nehemiah: שאח”כ נעשה ישמעאלי. Obviously, “Ishmaelite” is a code word for Christian.[3]
The story reported by Samuel David Luzzatto is that Nehemiah used to go to prostitutes, and when the rabbis found out about this they removed the rabbinate from him. Too embarrassed to remain in the Jewish community, Nehemiah apostatized.[4] Cecil Roth cites another Italian source that Nehemiah converted so he could marry a Christian woman. Unfortunately, his son and three daughters apostatized together with him (his wife had apparently already died).[5]
Another apostate who should be mentioned is Michael Solomon Alexander (1799-1844), first Anglican bishop in Jerusalem. Before his apostasy, Alexander was a rabbi.[6]
Rabbi Abraham Romano of Tunis also became an apostate. He converted at the end of the seventeenth century when R. Meir Lombrozo was appointed a dayan in his place. After Romano converted, he became well known as a Islamic preacher, and after his death his tomb was venerated by Muslims. He was known as Sidi Sofiane, and the street in Tunis with this name is named after him.[7] It is reported that in the nineteenth century R. Uziel Alheikh, author of the halakhic work Mishkenot ha-Ro’im, would recite Kaddish at Romano’s grave so God would forgive his sin.[8]
I am sure many readers have heard of Rabbi Israel Zolli, the chief rabbi of Rome who converted after the Holocaust. Not so well known is Rabbi Daniel Zion, who was the chief rabbi of Bulgaria and after World War II served as a rabbi in Jaffa. When it became known that he was a believer in Jesus, he was forced out of his rabbinic position. There is a good deal online about Zion, and entries in English and Hebrew on Wikipedia.
Rabbi Hayyim Asher Hoffmann was another modern rabbi accused of working with missionaries. He was in Argentina at the beginning of the twentieth century, and wrote a haskamah for R. Menahem Mendel Hirschhorn’s 1904 book Magid le-Yisrael. Here is the title page of the book, followed by the haskamah.
In 1907, R. Mordechai Amram Hirsch of Hamburg informed Jewish leaders in Buenos Aires that Hoffmann had worked in the Christian mission in Hamburg. Not long after this, Hoffmann committed suicide.[9]
Hoffmann is not the only rabbi to have committed suicide. In his recent article in Hakirah, Moshe Ariel Fuss deals with R. Moshe Soloveichik’s great dispute with the Polish Agudat Ha-Rabbanim. He also discusses the suicide of one of the dayanim of Tomashov, which was related to the dayan’s role in the dispute.[10]
There was another rabbi and author of a sefer who committed suicide. Let me preface this story with some other relevant information. In the early 1990s there was a project at the Harvard library to put thousands of rare Hebrew books on microfiche. This would then be sold to major university libraries. It was a wonderful idea and involved considerable expense on the part of the company, K.G. Saur, which was carefully photographing the books. (I used to watch the photographer doing his work.) It was very costly to purchase the more than ten thousand fiches, but for a library that wanted to instantly have access to almost five thousand rare Hebrew books, this was a great solution. You can see a 1994 ad for the project here.
Unfortunately for this project, advancing technology made it obsolete almost immediately upon completion. The ability to access rare books online, on hebrewbooks.org, Otzar ha-Chochma, Google Books, and other sites, meant that microfiche readers went the way of typewriters. (I still haven’t gotten rid of my own microfiche reader, as I never know if it might come in handy).
Harvard put out a catalog advertising the microfiche set, which discussed the different genres of books included. The catalog also had pictures of a few of the title pages of the books. Here is one of the pages in the catalog.[11]
Here is a clearer picture of the title page.
The book is Derekh Yam on Tractate Meilah by Rabbi Mordechai Nahman Stieglitz, published in 1900. At the time (almost thirty years ago), I thought nothing of this, and just assumed that Derekh Yam was a random book that was picked for inclusion in the catalog. However, someone who knows a lot about seforim told me that there is no question that Derekh Yam was not randomly picked. He said that whoever chose to use this title page, when there were so many others that could have been picked, must have done so as an inside joke for the benefit of those who knew the history of Rabbi Stieglitz (which at the time I knew nothing about).
Derekh Yam is a fine commentary on a tractate that not so many have written about. Understandably, then, when people study Meilah this is one of the books they will turn to. And why not, seeing that the book has haskamot from such great figures as R. Isaac Schmelkes, R. Shalom Mordechai Schwadron, and R. Aryeh Leibush Horowitz? It also includes an approbation and a lengthy responsum (pp. 47a-58a) by R. Joshua Horowitz, the Rebbe of Dzikov (Stieglitz’s hasidic group[12]) and author of a number of volumes with the title Ateret Yeshuah.
Shortly following the appearance of Derekh Yam, Stieglitz’s life took a different turn. He not only left Poland but abandoned Torah observance as well. Meir Wunder writes that “he went to study at the University of Berlin (and not Vienna).”[13] Wunder’s information that Stieglitz studied in Berlin presumably came from Yehudah Rubenstein (see below), but I don’t know why he felt the need to correct the error that he studied in Vienna, as I haven’t seen anyone make this claim.
It could be that Stieglitz did study in Berlin (though I know of no evidence for this), and to be sure one would need to check the archives of the University of Berlin. However, Rubenstein and Wunder were unaware that Switzerland was Stieglitz’s primary academic place of study, and his 1908 doctoral dissertation is from the University of Bern. It deals with Baraitot in Tractate Berakhot in the Bavli and Yerushalmi. You can see it here. As was typical in those days in Germany and Switzerland, the doctoral dissertation is short and insignificant. It never ceases to amaze me how easy it was in those countries to receive a doctorate.
Yehudah Rubenstein says the following about Stieglitz:[14] When his book Derekh Yam appeared it was greatly praised by Torah leaders and had an impact on talmudic scholars. It also included a long responsum from R. Joshua Horowitz. Later, a רוח שטות entered Stieglitz and he abandoned his wife and children and went to Berlin to study, where he abandoned Torah observance and fell in love with the daughter of a banker, whom he married after divorcing his wife. He then went to New York where he went into business and made a lot of money on Wall Street. However, during the Depression Stieglitz lost his money and committed suicide.[15]
Rubenstein also notes that Dzikover hasidim, at the command of their rebbe, collected all the copies of Derekh Yam that they could find, from synagogues and private homes, and destroyed them. He concludes:
.והספר דרך ים הוא יקר המציאות, כי נשארו ממנו טופסים מועטים
What used to be a rare book is now, thanks to modern technology, at everyone’s fingertips. Even if, as a result of this post, the book is removed from hebrewbooks.org and Otzar ha-Chochma, you can still see Harvard’s copy here.
In 1976, the descendants of R. Joshua Horowitz published Ateret Yeshuah: Likutei Teshuvot ve-Haskamot.
In the introduction it states that the book includes all the responsa and approbations of R. Horowitz found in the writings of others. However, they purposely did not include the approbation and responsum found in Derekh Yam.[16]
Returning to apostasy by rabbis who produced seforim, I have previously mentioned R. Profiat Duran, the Efodi (see here), and an article by Joseph Hacker has recently appeared which further complicates matters.[17] Let me first note that in Latin documents his name appears as Perfeyt, so from now on this is how I think we should pronounce it. Second, and here Hacker follows on Maud Kozodoy’s earlier research,[18] we have evidence that not only did Duran convert (this we already knew), but that he remained a Christian for the rest of his life, even when he had left Spain and could have returned to Judaism. If that wasn’t enough, both Kozodoy and Hacker believe that he married a Christian woman, as the wife to whom he left his possessions had a different name than his first wife. Yet this latter point is not conclusive. It could be that the woman he was married to at the end of his life was a Jewish woman who apostatized, either the original wife who changed her name on conversion, or a second wife. How Duran continued to write anti-Christian polemical works while living as a Christian is still a mystery.[19] His famous grammatical work, Ma’aseh Efod, the introduction to which Professor Isadore Twersky loved to study with his graduate students,[20] was also written while he was a Christian.
When the information about his life eventually filters out to the Orthodox world, presumably he will no longer be cited as an authority (although all evidence points to his important commentary on Maimonides’ Guide being written before his conversion so perhaps that can still remain in the canon).[21]
I must also mention R. Levi Ibn Habib (ca. 1480-1541), the great sage of Jerusalem. As a young man in Portugal, he converted (or was converted) to Christianity. We don’t know if at this time he was living with his father, R. Jacob Ibn Habib, who is famous for editing the Ein Yaakov. Later, R. Levi journeyed to Salonika where he was together with his father.
We do not know the precise details of R. Levi’s conversion. Scholars often write about Jews being subjected to “forced conversion.” This can mean that one is told he must convert or he will be killed. In this circumstance, Jewish law requires martyrdom, and Jewish history knows of many who chose this path.[22] Yet people who were not strong enough to accept martyrdom, and converted to Christianity to save their lives, are routinely described as forced converts.
The other meaning of forced conversion is using actual physical force to baptize someone, as occurred in Portugal. R. Levi was in Portugal in 1497, when Jewish life there came to an end. Many Portuguese Jews converted “willingly” – in addition to the strong Christian pressure to convert, some did so to be freed from slavery or after their children were taken from them, as this was the only way to get them back. There was also the unusual circumstance that the King ordered the Jews not yet baptized to be baptized against their will, literally by physical force. (Mainstream Catholic teaching did not regard this as a valid baptism, unlike the case of one who converted to save his life, as this latter act was taken out of free will).[23] As mentioned, we do not know whether R. Levi converted “willingly” or not, but we do know that he lived as a Christian after this conversion.
In the great dispute over the revival of semikhah between R. Levi and R. Jacob Berab, R. Berab saw fit to allude to R. Levi’s conversion as a means of discrediting him. This is quite surprising, as one is not supposed to remind a ba’al teshuvah of his previous sins. Here are some of R. Berab’s words which are clearly designed to contrast his pure history with R. Levi’s history, which included living as a Christian (and thus having a Christian name).[24]
שת”ל מיום הגרוש והשמד שבספרד לעולם הייתי מורה הוראות בישראל . . . ועם היותי ברעב ובצמא ובחוסר כל לעולם הלכתי בדרכי השם יתברך ונתעסקתי בתורתו . . . ות”ל שמעולם לא נשתנה שמי אי רבי קרו לי השתא רבי הווי קרי לי אז וזה שמי לעולם . . סוף דבר שת”ל לעולם השתדלתי שלא ילך להתרעם עלי שום אות מאלף ועד תי”ו, רצוני לומר שלא נתחלל שם שמים על ידי בשום אחד מהאותיות כדי שלא יעלו לשמים להתרעם עלי
R. Levi was understandably quite offended by R. Berab’s words. He expresses his pain that R. Berab would attempt to publicly humiliate him by bringing up the difficult timein Portugal. He makes it clear that he is speaking for many others who were also in his unfortunate circumstance.[25]
לישנא בישא טובא איכא הכא, ובמקום שהיה לו לחכם להודות על האמת ולהשיב כהלכה גרם לשפוך דמי ולהלבין פנים בהזכירו אלי עונות ראשונים . . . לא לכבודי ח”ו כי אם לכבוד כל אותם שנמצאו באותה הצרה ושמו עצמם בסכנות רבות וברחו ולא ראו בטובה עד שזכו להיות בעלי תשובה ורבים מהם נפטרו לחיי הע”ה
R. Levi also mentions that he was not yet a bar onshin when he converted. The evidence we have shows that he was older than 13 in 1497, so when he says that he was not yet a bar onshin, it must mean that he was under the age of 20. This is in accord with an aggadic statement in Shabbat 89b that God does not punish for transgressions in the first twenty years.[26]The Zohar, Bereishit 118b, also states that while an earthly beit din punishes from age 13, the Heavenly Court does not punish for sins committed before age 20.[27]
R. Levi further states that despite his difficult circumstances, in his mind he remained a Jew, loyal to the one true God. While others changed his name to a Christian name, he himself never changed. He adds that while he did not merit to die al kiddush ha-shem, he hopes to achieve a complete repentance for his past. Here are some of R. Levi words, full of pathos:[28]
ואומר כי אני לא אחלל בריתי ברית התורה להשיב לזה החכם על פי דרכו . . . גם לא אכחיש המובן מדבריו בהגדלת אשמתי ולא אציל עצמי בדברתי לומר שאף אם שנו שמי בעונתי בשעת השמד אני לא שניתי, ובוחן לב וחוקר כליות יודע כי תמיד אותו יראתי, ואם לא זכיתי לקדש שמו לבי יחיל בקרבי מפני זעמו הגם שעדיין לא הייתי בר עונשין בבית דינו כלל, מכל זה לא אומר ח”ו כי שקר התנצלותי, ועוד כי יוסיף פשע על חטאתי, אדרבה אבכה יומי ולילי אוי לי אללי ואודה עלי פשעי ואומר ידעתי יי’ רשעי ופשעי וזדוני כי רבו למעלה ראש משורש פורה רוש, ואשמותי גדלו עד לשמים, אבל בטחתי על רוב חסדיך ונשענתי על רוב רחמיך, וכשם שזכיתני לצאת מן ההפכה והבאתני אל העיר ההוללה בתוך השנה להיות שונה שם בכל יום הלכה עד היום שיש יותר מארבעים שנה, כך תזכני להיות בעל תשובה שלמה, ומה גם עתה בהיותי עולב עלבון גדול אשר כזה על לא חמס בכפי, ואתה אדון הסליחות אלדי הרוחות ראה בדמעות אשר זלגו עיני עתה באנחות ויהיו בבית גנזיך מונחות לעת צאת נפשי, ואולי תזכה בהן לשוב למנוחות
It is one thing for contemporaries to slug it out and attack each other. However, that was hundreds of years ago, and in the intervening centuries both R. Levi and R. Berab have been included in the canon of gedolim. R. Berab has the additional distinction of having given semikhah (the real kind) to R. Joseph Karo. As such, we are dealing with important figures who are each deserving of great respect. This is why I found it so unusual that a twentieth-century rabbi, Benjamin Trachtman, who came to the defense of R. Levi, showed considerable disrespect for R. Berab.
R. Trachtman was a rabbi in a few different places in the United States and Israel, and author of a number of works. In 1930 he was rabbi in Mishwaka, Indiana (near South Bend) when he published his book, Shevet Binyamin. Here is the title page.
The book comes with a number of “haskamot,” among them from R. Moshe Mordechai Epstein and R. Isaac Sher. From the “haskamot” we learn that R. Trachtman had been a student at the Chevron Yeshiva. I put the word haskamot in quotation marks, since even though that is what the letters at the beginning of the book are called, they are not haskamot at all as they have nothing to do with the book. Rather, they testify to R. Trachtman’s Torah knowledge and most of the letters are semikhah certificates.
I find it hard to believe that R. Trachtman’s teachers, and the others whose letters appear in the book, would have approved of his judgment of R. Berab, found on p. 93 of his book. He states that in looking at the dispute between R. Levi and R. Berab, you can see the difference between a person who has mussar values and one who is “lacking mussar and middot”! He claims that R. Berab is an example of someone who had great Torah knowledge but was lacking in the area of ethics. I find it incomprehensible that a twentieth-century scholar would speak this way about one of the recognized Torah sages of centuries ago.
משם יש לראות את הנפ”מ בין אדם בעל מוסר שכל דבריו שקולים במשורה בחשבון ודעת לאדם חסר המוסר והמדות, והינו[!] כי אחד מהדברים אשר אדם נכר בהם הוא בכעסו, בעת אשר מחלוקת לו עם חבירו, והנה המחלוקת של שני החכמים הנ”ל אם כי המחלוקת היה לש”ש לדינא אבל בכל זאת יש לראות שם גם זה הסוג מחלוקת של אנשים השוטים והמחלוקת מזה הסוג בולט הרבה מדברי הר”י בי רב, כי בדבריו אנו רואים התנפלות עזה בדברים בוטים כמדקרות חרב ועלילות מזויפות על הרלב”ח אשר א”א בשום אופן שמחשבון יצאו הדברים ואדרבה הרלב”ח אף כי גם הוא אינו מחריש לו אבל דבריו בנחת נשמעים במתינות ובישוב כנראה משם . . . ואל תאשימני על בואי לבקר את הר”י בי רב כי נתן לי רשות בדבריו, וסוף סוף אנו רואים בחוש גם עתה כי הוא שני דברים נפרדים כי יש למצוא תלמידי חכמים אשר גאונותם בתלמוד הוא עד למאוד וכשבאים לסוגיא “יכיר יכירנו לאחרים” הם נכשלים באופן פשוט אשר בשום אופן אין לחפות עליהם, אם לא כי יצאו מגדר המוסר
Also worth noting is Jacob Katz’s comment at the end of his classic article on the semikhah controversy.
Nor can we ignore the fact that Berab’s personal attacks on ben Habib, and the recounting of his “old sins,” were not germane. He did not dare to give explicit expression to the serious accusation about ben Habib’s conversion in his youth; instead he couched it in words of self-praise (“I myself never changed my name”). Such a tactic is evidence of an emotional need to pretend that one has done nothing wrong, which is a sign of an uneasy conscience.[29]
I must also mention R. Isaac Bar Sheshet, the great Rivash. Did the Rivash actually convert to Christianity during the anti-Jewish persecution of 1391? There is no mention of this in any Hebrew documents. However, in 1983 Jaume Riera published an article in Sefunot based on documents from the Spanish archives which show that during the 1391 anti-Jewish attacks, the Rivash, who served as rabbi of Valencia, converted to Christianity. This is attested to in three separate documents, two of which refer to the rabbi of Valencia and one of which identifies the Rivash by name. The documents show that while many Jews were killed in Valencia during the attacks, most converted to save their lives and the large synagogue was turned into a Church.[30]
We do not know the exact circumstances that supposedly led the Rivash to convert, and the only important detail in this regard that we learn from the documents is that the Rivash’s death sentence was revoked after his apostasy. Riera offers a suggestion to explain why Rivash chose to convert, but this is based on nothing other than Riera’s vivid imagination. Yet Riera’s imaginings, which conjured up “false witnesses,” a “disgraceful crime,” and other completely fictional events, are presented in the Wikipedia entry on Rivash as actual fact.
In 1391 there occurred the great persecutions of the Jews of Spain in consequence of the preaching of Fernandes Martinez. On the first day of the persecutions, the younger brother of King John I summoned Isaac on July 9, 1391. He explained that to be able to restrain and cease the bloodshed, it would be necessary to promulgate an organized conversion of the Jews, which should obviously start with the communal leaders. Some of the leaders did relent to the heavy pressure laid upon them; but not Isaac, who held steadfast to his faith. After a couple of days, the officials set up false witnesses to testify against Isaac for a disgraceful crime. Due to this accusation, Isaac was condemned to death, by burning at the stake in the city’s central square. On July 11 Isaac was immersed, donned the robe of a Dominican and received the name Jaume De-Valencia.
Around a year and a half after the supposed conversion the Rivash escaped to Algeria, where he was known as a great posek whose responsa remain among the most important ever written. He died in 1408.
Did the Rivash convert? There were a number of rabbis, admittedly not of the Rivash’s level, who converted to Christianity in Spain, so the idea is not impossible. We also have to remember that the conversion of the Rivash, if it indeed occurred, was also only a temporary event. I do not think it casts aspersions on a great rabbi if we find that when faced with the terrible choice, he did not choose martyrdom. Everyone realizes that this is never an easy choice. This was especially the case in Spain which, unlike Germany, never had a culture extolling Jewish martyrdom (and we know that large numbers of Spanish Jews chose conversion over death).
In analyzing this matter, the real issue that experts should focus on is how reliable are the government documents. R. David Bar Sheshet is a descendant of the Rivash and recently published a biography of his illustrious forefather. Some might be surprised that in an “Orthodox” biography he deals with the matter of the supposed conversion. However, being that this is by now a well-known “fact,” it is basically impossible to ignore. Not surprisingly, Bar Sheshet argues against the claim that the Rivash converted.[31] Yet this is not simply a hagiographic perspective, and I myself am not convinced. If indeed the Rivash converted, the Church would presumably have used this as a propaganda tool, yet we have no evidence that this was ever done. Furthermore, does it make sense that no Jewish sources of the time mention the apostasy of such a prominent rabbi?[32]
Among my hobbies are visiting the graves of great Torah sages, and this hobby has taken me around the world. What about visiting the graves of the Rivash, and also R. Simeon ben Zemah Duran, the Tashbetz, both of whom are buried in Algiers?[33] Recently, I was in a Paris airport waiting for my flight to Tunisia. At very next gate was a flight to Algiers. Yet despite how easy it would be to travel there, I have yet to go. There is no Jewish community in the city and I don’t know how safe it is to visit Jewish sites. One day when I am convinced it is safe, I will travel there, much like I will travel to Baghdad to visit the grave of the Ben Ish Hai.
Fortunately, one person did make the trek to Algiers. He has put online pictures of the cemetery where the Rivash and R. Simeon ben Zemah Duran are buried, having been moved there from the original cemetery at the end of the nineteenth century. Even before the move they had been given new tombstones.[34] See his website here.
This is the Rivash’s grave. The picture is taken from the just mentioned website.
This is R. Duran’s grave. The picture comes from the same website.
Excursus
Due to the censor, or perhaps even self-censorship, in certain European prayer books negative expressions directed against idolatry, and hence bearing a possible anti-Christian interpretation, were turned into anti-Islamic expressions. See Leopold Zunz, Die Ritus des synagogalen Gottesdienstes (Berlin, 1919), p. 222. Halakhic works were also affected. See, for example, R. Abraham Danzig, Hokhmat Adam 153:1, where some printings have:
ואם שרוי הוא בין ישמעאלים
Every reader should easily grasp that in this passage ישמעאלים does not really mean Muslims.
Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Avodah Zarah 9:4 reads:
הנוצרים עובדי עבודה זרה הן ויום ראשון יום אידם הוא. לפיכך אסור לשאת ולתת עמהן בארץ ישראל יום חמישי ויום ששי שבכל שבת ושבת. ואין צריך לומר יום ראשון עצמו שהוא אסור בכל מקום
In the textual notes in the Frankel Mishneh Torah, they cite a manuscript that reads:
ישמעלים [!] עובדי ע”ז הן ויום ששי יום אידם . . . ואין צריך לומר יום ששי עצמו
In the Shabbat morning Amidah, we read:
וגם במנוחתו לא ישכנו ערלים
Steinschneider noted that some texts replace arelim with “Ishmaelites.” See Polemische und Apologetische Literatur in arabischer Sprache zwischen Muslimen, Christen und Juden (Leipzig, 1877), p. 374. This change of text was done in Christian countries for obvious reasons and should fool no one. Thus, it is surprising that Salo W. Baron, A Social and Religious History of the Jews, vol. 6, p. 327 n. 15, writes as follows about the version that contains “Ishmaelites”:
This was hardly an invention of later generations of Jews who, living in Christian countries, sought to avoid difficulties with censors. . . . If Maimonides, in his formulation, substitutes arelim (uncircumcised) for “Ishmaelites” (cf. M.T. Seder Tefillot at the end of the second book; here switched to the Musaf prayer), this was merely in line with his general preference for Islam as against Christianity.
This is complete nonsense. Maimonides did not substitute arelim for “Ishmaelites.” The text he had, which is the authentic text of the prayer, included the word arelim.
Here is a responsum of R. Eliezer Isaac Fried, from Hut ha-Meshulash, no. 28. This responsum is cited in many of the discussions dealing Islam and halakhah, in particular with reference to mosques. In my article on the topic from many years ago I too cited this source. See “Islam and the Halakhah,” Judaism 42 (Summer 1993), p. 337.
I recently had occasion to look at this responsum again, and I see that everyone has misunderstood it. It is obvious that R. Fried is not really speaking about building a mosque but a church. When, in the responsum, he speaks of placing the crescent in the mosque, this is really code for crucifix. In fact, the entire responsum assumes that he is speaking about a religion of avodah zarah, which is the obvious sign that he is really speaking about Christianity.
My excuse for misreading the responsum years ago is that I was young and unsophisticated. However, it is very surprising to me that many great talmidei hakhamim have also cited this responsum without realizing that it is not really referring to Islam. See also here where I discuss a mistake by R. Judah Aszod who assumed that in a particular responsum the Hatam Sofer was discussing candle lighting as part of a religious celebration in India, when it is obvious that the Hatam Sofer is really referring to the practice of European Christians.
For an example of self-censorship in the opposite direction, namely, the removal of references to Islam, see this page of a responsum of R. Rahamim Joseph Franco, Sha’arei Rahamim (Jerusalem, 1881), vol. 1, Orah Hayyim, no. 5, p. 8b (look at the paragraph beginning ושוב).
2. I would like to mention some more mistakes I have found in the ArtScroll siddur and machzor. I believe that it is worthwhile to call attention to such mistakes, not only for their own sake, but because ArtScroll has made corrections in the past when these types of errors have been pointed out, and they no doubt will continue to do so in the future.
I myself have noticed a number of corrections that ArtScroll has made, and it could be that the example I will now discuss is an additional one, but I have not personally seen the correction. In response to an earlier post, R. Elazar Meir Teitz informed me that in the prayer recited before taking the Torah out of the Ark on Shabbat morning, in the words היטיבה ברצונך את ציון, ArtScroll mistakenly puts the accent in ברצונך on the penultimate syllable (and when we sing these words with the popular tune the accent is indeed on the penultimate syllable). I checked my ArtScroll siddurim and machzorim and that is indeed where the accent is. However, I have been told that in the new printings of at least one of the various ArtScroll siddurim (but not of the machzorim) this has been corrected and the accent is now on the final syllable. Can any reader confirm that this is indeed the case?
I noticed over Yom Kippur that ArtScroll has a very strange translation in the על חטא prayer. We say:
ועל חטא שחטאנו לפניך ביודעים ובלא יודעים
ArtScroll translates this: “And for the sin that we have sinned before You against those who know and against those who do not know.” I am certain that this is a mistake, and that ביודעים ובלא יודעים means, “with knowledge or without knowledge,” in other words, “wittingly or unwittingly.” I assume ArtScroll was driven to its translation because earlier in the prayer we say בזדון ובשגגה. Thus, if ביודעים ובלא יודעים means “wittingly or unwittingly,” then it is repeating what was earlier said. Furthermore, we also say earlier בבלי דעת and בדעת ובמרמה, so this would seem to be more of the same. Yet I do not think that a prayer with repetitions creates difficulties, and in this case, I think it makes more sense than translating the passage the way ArtScroll does. I am curious to see if readers agree with me.[35]
The final mistake I would like to call attention to is one that is found in most siddurim and collections of zemirot, so ArtScroll is in good company. It is noteworthy that the Koren siddur and the new RCA siddur get it right. The old RCA-De Sola Pool siddur also got it right.
In the Sbbath song ברוך א-ל עליון, it states:
ואשרי כל חוכה מאת כל סוכה שוכן בערפל
The meaning, as translated by ArtScroll, is:
Praiseworthy is everyone who awaits a double reward From the One Who sees all but dwells in dense darkness.
Here is how the Hebrew page appears in the ArtScroll Zemiroth,[36] p. 186.
The problem here is that if you look at the Hebrew you can see that the English has not been translated properly. כל-סוכה does not mean “the One Who sees”, but “everyone who sees.” The word כל has a kamatz which means that it is connected to the following word. In the Zemiroth, ArtScroll puts the makef in, just like almost always in the Masoretic text of Tanakh כל with a kamatz has a makef.[37] But the meaning of the passage is the same even without the makef, and in the siddur ArtScroll does not include it.
In order for the passage to mean “the One Who sees all,” the word כל must have a holam.[38] This point is actually made by R. Nota Greenblatt, who states that the version found in ArtScroll and many others, where the word כל has a kamatz, is nothing less than heresy since God has been replaced by humans.
3. I want to call readers’ attention to an important volume that has just appeared. Seforim Blog contributor R. Moshe Maimon has published the first volume of his edition of R. Abraham Maimonides’ commentary on Genesis. Maimon’s improvements on the earlier translation from the Arabic make the work a pleasure to read. His explanatory notes are simply fantastic, taking into account all relevant sources, both traditional and academic, that can illuminate the text. This will now become the standard edition of R. Abraham’s commentary, and I can think of no greater honor for Maimon than this. Hopefully, this publication will lead to a surge of interest in the commentary of R. Abraham, much like R. Kafih’s new translation of Maimonides’ Commentary on the Mishnah did for this work. The book is available at Biegeleisen, and can also be purchased online at Mizrahi books here.
[1] See Isaiah Sonne, “Avnei Binyan le-Korot ha-Yehudim be-Italyah,” Horev 6 (1941), pp. 100ff.; Elisheva Carlebach, The Pursuit of Heresy: Rabbi Moses Hagiz and the Sabbatian Controversies (New York, 1990), pp. 237ff. [2] This is noted by Carlebach, The Pursuit of Heresy, p. 331 n. 18. [3] See Excursus [4] Peninei Shadal (Przemysl, 1888), p. 12. See the recent discussion of Nehemiah by Yaakov Spiegel in Hitzei Giborim 11 (2019), pp. 1146ff. Spiegel mentions that Torah writings from Nehemiah remain in manuscript. He also notes that in a recent printing of Basilea, Emunat Hakhamim, Nehemiah’s haskamah was removed (and perhaps surprisingly, the printer acknowledged that it was removed). [5] Cecil Roth, Studies in Books and Booklore (Farnborough, England, 1972), p. 44 (Hebrew section). [6] See Alexander’s appendix to John Hatchard, The Predictions and Promises of God Respecting Israel (London, 1825), p. 38. See also Kelvin Crombie, A Jewish Bishop in Jerusalem (Jerusalem, 2006), p. 13, and the entry on him in the Dictionary of National Biography, here. [7] R. Joseph Tanugi, Toldot Hakhmei Tunis (Bnei Brak, 1988), pp. 233-234; R. Abraham Khalfon, Ma’aseh Tzadikim (Jerusalem, n.d.), p. 309. [8] L’Univers Israelite, Oct. 7, 1932, available here; André N. Chouraqui, Between East and West: A History of the Jews of North Africa, trans. Michael M. Bernet (Philadelphia, 1968), p. 72. [9] See Victor A. Mirelman, Jewish Buenos Aires, 1890-1930 (Detroit, 1990), p. 89. [10] “Ha-Rav Moshe Soloveichik u-Ma’avakav be-‘Moetzet Gedolei ha-Torah’ ve-‘Agudat ha-Rabbanim’ be-Polin,” Hakirah 25 (2018), p. 47. [11] I thank Menachem Butler for sending me this image. [12] See Yehoshua Mondshine, Ha-Tzofeh le-Doro (Jerusalem, 1987), p. 37. [13] Entzyklopedia le-Hakhmei Galizia, vol. 5, col. 154. [14] Ha-Darom (Tishrei 5723) 16 p. 150. [15] Another rabbi who met an unfortunate demise was R. Isaiah ha-Levi, author of the first Ba’er Heitev on the Shulhan Arukh (not Ba’er Heitev found in the standard editions). R. Meir Eisenstadt, Meorei Esh, beginning of parashat Shemini, tells us that on his way to Eretz Yisrael, R. Isaiah, his wife, and daughter were killed in a fire in their hotel. Regarding the different commentaries with the name Ba’er Heitev, see R. Yehiel Dov Weller in Yeshurun 17 (2006), pp. 825ff.
In the old translation of Maimonides’ commentary to Mikvaot 4:4, he writes about a certain rabbi: ונהרג על זה באמה ובזרוע. This led to all sorts of speculations about which rabbi was killed. However, this is a mistaken translation. See R. Kafih’s note in his new translation, and also his commentary to Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Mikvaot, vol. 2, p. 461. In a future post, I will mention a few rabbis who were killed by Jews, as well as cases of attempted murder. For now, I merely want to call readers’ attention to Prof. Shnayer Leiman’s email published in Chaim Dalfin’s new book, Torah Vodaas and Lubavitch (Brooklyn, 2019), p. 203.
There was a rabbi who allegedly was killed by mobsters. I heard from reliable sources that he was beaten, rolled in the snow and left to die. (Perhaps the goal was to frighten him, not kill him.) He survived the ordeal, but died shortly thereafter from pneumonia. The rabbi was Rabbi Yaakov Eskolsky, famous author and Rabbi of the Bialystocker Shul on the Lower East Side. I’m not aware of any written account that mentions this.
Leiman also mentions that Rabbi Israel Tabak, the son-in-law of R. Eskolsky, in discussing his father-in-law’s death mentions nothing about any foul play. See Tabak, Three Worlds (Jerusalem, 1988), p. 156.
R. Eskolsky served as a rabbi in Scranton for a few years. See his biography here. I previously wrote a bit about him here. In Tabak’s book, p. 152, it mentions that R. Eskolsky celebrated Thanksgiving, and that at a Thanksgiving dinner Tabak attended, he “emphasized the significance of Thanksgiving Day for our people who came to the United States from Eastern Europe, and especially from Russia. Coming to America, the land of freedom and opportunity, was like emerging from darkness into light and certainly deserved to be marked by thanksgiving, both to G-d and to America that treated its citizens so well.” I believe that for any non-hasidic rabbi in America in the early part of the twentieth century, the notion that there was something religiously problematic with celebrating Thanksgiving would have been incomprehensible.
Shimon Steinmetz sent me this picture from the Forverts, Oct. 23, 1930. I find it fascinating that R. Eskolsky served as a justice on the “Jewish Arbitration Court.”
[16] See Yehoshua Mondshine, “Aminutan shel Iggerot ha-Hasidim me-Eretz Yisrael,” in Katedra 64 (1992), p. 89 n. 152. [17] “Perfeyt Duran be-Italyah ve-Goral ha-Sefarim ha-Ivriyim Aharei Meoraot 1391,” Ba-Derekh el ha-Modernah: Shai le-Yosef Kaplan (Jerusalem, 2019), pp. 61-91. [18] The Secret Faith of Maestre Honoratus (Philadelphia, 2015), pp. 20, 28. [19] See Kozody’s suggestions to explain this, Secret Faith, pp. 30ff. Regarding when his polemical works were written, see Benzion Netanyahu, The Marranos of Spain (Ithaca, 1999), pp. 221ff. [20] Twersky discusses this text in “Religion and Law” in S.D. Goitein, ed., Religion in a Religious Age (New York, 1974), pp. 69-82. Regarding Twersky, I recently discovered this video of one of Chaim Grade’s lectures at Harvard from October 1981, and Twersky introduces him at the beginning. Unfortunately, only the first part of the lecture appears in the video. If anyone knows if the second part exists, please let me know. Menachem Butler was kind enough to send this page from the Boston Jewish Advocate, Oct. 22, 1981, announcing the Grade lectures.
Grade had earlier lectured at Harvard in 1977. Regarding these lectures, see Allan Nadler’s recollections here. [21] Here is the first page of an article by Yehudah Hershkowitz that appeared in Yeshurun 9 (2001), p. 572.
Note how Duran is referred to as “Rabbenu”. The author is aware that Duran apostatized, but he, like everyone before him, assumed that Duran later returned to Judaism. [22] Regarding martyrdom, R. Moshe Feinstein makes an interesting point in Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah III, no. 108 (p. 353). We all know that a convert must accept the mitzvot for the conversion to be valid. What about if a convert honestly states that while he accepts the mitzvot, if confronted with violating a prohibition for which martyrdom is required, he knows that he will not have the courage to be martyred? Is this to be regarded as rejecting a commandment which means that he cannot be converted? R. Moshe says no, as acceptance of the mitzvot means that you intend to fulfill them under normal circumstances, and extreme cases such as those that involve martyrdom do not impact this acceptance. [23] For R. Elijah Capsali’s report of the forced conversion, by actual physical force, see Abraham Gross, Struggling with Tradition (Leiden, 2004), p. 81. See also the Christian report in E. H. Lindo, The History of the Jews of Spain and Portugal (New York, 1970), p. 330. Another forced convert in Portugal who later became famous was R. Solomon Ibn Verga, author of Shevet Yehudah. R. Joseph Garson, who later escaped to Salonika, also appears to have undergone forced conversion in Portugal. See Joseph Hacker, “Li-Demutam ha-Ruhanit shel Yehudei Sefarad be-Sof ha-Meah ha-Hamesh Esreh,” Sefunot 2, new series (1983), pp. 29ff. As with R. Levi, we do not know the circumstances of the forced conversions of R. Ibn Verga and R. Garson. Since it appears that R. Jacob Ibn Habib was also in Portugal in 1497, then presumably he too was converted, either “willingly” or not. See, however, Marjorie Lehman, The En Yaaqov: Jacob ibn Habib’s Search for Faith in the Talmudic Corpus (Detroit, 2012), pp. 26-27. Regarding whether R. Isaac Karo was in Portugal then, or if he succeeded in leaving prior to the mass conversion, see Karo, Derashot R. Yitzhak Karo, ed. Shaul Regev (Ramat-Gan, 1995), pp. 9-10. [24] Kuntres ha-Semikhah, in Teshuvot R. Levi Ibn Habib, no. 147, section 4 (p. 39 in the new edition). [25] Ibid., no. 148 section 5, p. 52. [26] R. Solomon ben Adret, She’elot u-Teshuvot ha-Rashba, vol. 6, no. 179, explains that this is because a person’s intellect is not sufficiently developed until age 20. [27] R. Moses Sofer rejects the notion that one is not punished by Heaven for sins committed before age 20. See She’elot u-Teshuvot Hatam Sofer, vol. 2, Yoreh Deah no. 155. For more on this matter, see R. Pinchas Zabihi, AteretPaz, vol. 3, no. 1, and here. [28] Teshuvot R. Levi Ibn Habib, no. 148, section 5 (p. 53 in the new edition). [29] Divine Law in Human Hands (Jerusalem, 1998), p. 170. [30] Riera, “Le-Toldot ha-Rivash bi-Gezerot 1391,” Sefunot 17 (1983), pp. 11-20. [31] Rabbi Yitzhak Bar Sheshet (Beitar Ilit, 2017), pp. 83ff. [32] In this post, I have not dealt with accusations of rabbis’ apostatizing that arose in the contexts of disputes. For an example where hasidim accused one of their mitnagedic opponents, R. Leib Rakowski of Plock, of apostasy and also of marrying a non-Jewish woman, see Marcin Wodzinski, Studying Hasidism (New Brunswick, N.J., 2019), p. 120. This occurred after they tried to beat up the rabbi. See ibid., p. 119. [33] In rabbinic literature Algiers is written as ארג’יל. This is due to the influence of the Spanish exiles who settled in North Africa, as in Spanish Algiers is pronounced as Argel. I was surprised to see that a generally careful scholar, Tuvia Preschel, Ma’amrei Tuvyah, vol. 1, p. 58, recorded the following false information.
הם [יהודי אלג’יר] לא רצו לכתוב אלגיר שהיא מלשון אלה וגם “גירא בעיניך השטן” וע”כ הסבו שם העיר לארג’יל, לשון אור וגיל וסימנה טוב
[34] Regarding the transfer of the remains, see Bar Sheshet, Rabbi Yitzhak Bar Sheshet, pp. 83ff. [35] In his Derashot Kol Ben Levi, p. 130, R. Jehiel Michel Epstein’s explains ביודעים ובלא יודעים as follows:
היודעים המה העבירות שאין להם מבא בהיתר כלל והלא יודעים הם המותרות מההיתר שאין האדם מרגיש בנפשו כלל שזהו חטא וא”כ אין ידוע כלל שחטאנו לפניך
For a homiletic explanation that is found in many different sources, see R. Zvi Hirsch Ferber, Siah Tzvi, p. 162:
וזה שאנו מתודים על חטא שח”ל ביודעים, זה שהגיע להוראה ואינו מורה, ובלא יודעים, שלא הגיע להוראה ומורה
Yisrael Meir Lau,Yahel Yisrael: Avot, ch. 4, p. 246, writes:
בלא יודעים – הכוונה לחטא שחטאנו, מחמת שהיינו במצב של “לא יודעים”, שבאשמתנו לא ידענו את הדין, ועברנו על העבירה בלא לדעת כלל שיש בכך איסור. חומרתו של מעשה הנעשה “בלא יודעים” היא, ממש כמעשה הנעשה “ביודעים”, ועל שניהם כאחד אנו מתוודים ומבקשים שהקב”ה יסלח לנו ביום הכיפורים
[36]My copy was published in 1979. Later, ArtScroll changed the transliteration to Zemiros. [37] כל with kamatz is pronounced as kamatz katan. The only exceptions in Tanakh are Psalms 35:10: כל עצמתי, and Proverbs 19:7: כל אחי-רש. In these cases there is no makef after כל and therefore it is pronounced as kamatz gadol.
Isaiah 40:12 is another biblical verse with the word כל without a makef and it too has a kamatz gadol:
וכל בשלש עפר הארץ
Yet the word כל here is completely different than all other appearances of כל in Tanakh. This passage means, “and comprehended the dust of the earth in a shalish-measure.” The word כל we are all familiar with is from the root כלל. The word כל in Isaiah 40:12 is from the root כול. [38] I found another mistake in ArtScroll’s version of the song, and again, many others, including Koren and the new RCA siddur, make the same mistake. Yet the RCA-De Sola Pool siddur gets it right, as does Birnbaum. In the first stanza it reads עד אנא תוגיון. ArtScroll vocalizes the last word as “tugyon” (shuruk, holam) Yet this is a verse in Job 19:2 and the correct pronunciation is “togyun” (holam, shuruk).
The fifth stanza ends רוחו בם נחה. ArtScroll puts the accent in נחה on the penultimate syllable. However, in the context of the song, where all the other stanzas have the parallel rhyming word with the accent on the last syllable, I don’t think there is any doubt that נחה should also be read with the accent on the last syllable, despite what the grammatical rule may say.
The History behind the Ashkenazi/Sephardi divide concerning lighting Chanukah candles
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The History behind the Ashkenazi/Sephardi divide concerning lighting Chanukah candles
By Zachary Rothblatt
Zachary Rothblatt learned in Kerem B’Yavneh, Ner Yisroel, and will be receiving Semicha soon from RIETS. He is finishing a graduate degree in Bible and Talmud at the Bernard Revel Graduate School for Jewish Studies. He is a Judaic studies teacher at the Idea School in Tenafly, New Jersey.
One of the most famous halachic debates of Chanukah is the debate concerning how many sets of candles a family should light. Ashkenazim believe, with some variances, that each family member should light a menorah, while Sephardim believe that only one menorah should be lit per family. In this essay I would like to map out the history of how lighting Chanukah candles has been practiced and attempt to explain why in fact Ashkenazim and Sephardim do as they do.
The Shulchan Aruch (Orach Chaim 671:2) records the Sephardic practice of lighting only one set of candles per family. Rema (ad loc) records that the widespread minhag in Ashkenazi communities is for each member of the household to light his or her own set of Chanukah candles. The Taz (‘ס״ק א) notes that this is a unique situation in that Sephardim follow the opinion of Tosafot and that Ashkenazim follow the opinion of the Rambam. Some have taken this as proof of cross-cultural interaction between Sephardim and Ashkenazim. Beit Yosef does indeed say that Sephardic custom is based conceptually on Tosafot and Darkei Moshe Ha’Aruch says that Ashkenazi practice is based on the Rambam. That may be true from a conceptual standpoint. From a historical perspective, I believe the bases of these minhagim are to be found elsewhere.
The details of the Rabbinic commandment to light Chanukah candles are found in the Babylonian Talmud (Shabbat 21b) as well as in the Scholion of Megillat Ta’anit. For our purposes, the textual differences between the two corpora and internally within the manuscripts of the Bavli are negligible. The Talmud quotes a Baraita[1]:
ת”ר מצות חנוכה נר איש וביתו והמהדרין נר לכל אחד ואחד והמהדרין מן המהדרין ב”ש אומרים יום ראשון מדליק שמנה מכאן ואילך פוחת והולך וב”ה אומרים יום ראשון מדליק אחת מכאן ואילך מוסיף והולך
The Sages taught: The mitzvah of Chanukah is each day to have a light kindled by a person, the head of the household, for himself and his household. And the mehadrin, i.e., those who are meticulous in the performance of mitzvot, kindle a light for each and every one in the household. And the mehadrin min hamehadrin, who are even more meticulous, adjust the number of lights daily. Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel disagree as to the nature of that adjustment. Beit Shammai say:On the first day one kindles eight lights and, from there on, gradually decreases the number of lights until, on the last day of Hanukkah, he kindles one light. And Beit Hillel say: On the first day one kindles one light, and from there on, gradually increases the number of lights until, on the last day, he kindles eight lights.
The first level of the mitzvah is defined as one candle per family. The second level, mehadrin, mandates a candle for each member of the family (See later for a discussion concerning who is to light these candles). The level of Mehadrin min HaMehadrin is debated by Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel. As per the general rule we follow Beit Hillel. The fundamental question is whether the third level of Mehardin min Hamehadrin is in addition to the second level, i.e. each household member should have a menorah and light from one to eight candles, or that only one menorah should be lit in such a manner. This point is debated between Rambam and Tosafot, as referenced earlier.
Tosafot writes as follows (ad loc s.v. V’hamehadrin)[2]
והמהדרין מן המהדרין. נראה לר”י דב”ש וב”ה לא קיימי אלא אנר איש וביתו שכן יש יותר הידור דאיכא היכרא כשמוסיף והולך או מחסר שהוא כנגד ימים הנכנסים או היוצאים אבל אם עושה נר לכל אחד אפי’ יוסיף מכאן ואילך ליכא היכרא שיסברו שכך יש בני אדם בבית:
It seems to Ri (Isaac of Dampierre, 12th century) that Beit Shammai and Beit Hilel are referring only to “Man and his household” because in this way there is more beautification of the Mitzvah because there is something recognizable when he keeps adding or leaving out (candles) which corresponds to days that are entering or exiting. However, if he makes a candle for each one (i.e. each member of his household gets his own candle), even if he adds (candles) from this moment and onwards, there is nothing recognizable, because (the people) would think that so is the number of people in the household. (i.e. in this case, instead of attributing the increase or decrease in candles to the intention of the owner to match the corresponding day of Chanukah, people would attribute it to the intention to match the number of people in the household.)
Ri feels that for the Mehadrin min HaMehadrin only one set of Chanukah candles should be lit in order to preserve the distinctiveness of each day. We will return to the Tosafot later.
Rambam writes as follows (Mishneh Torah 4:1-3)[3]
רמב”ם הלכות מגילה וחנוכה פרק ד:א-ג
א. כמה נרות הוא מדליק בחנוכה, מצותה שיהיה כל בית ובית מדליק נר אחד א בין שהיו אנשי הבית מרובין בין שלא היה בו אלא אדם אחד, והמהדר את המצוה מדליק נרות כמנין אנשי הבית נר לכל אחד ואחד בין אנשים בין נשים, והמהדר יתר על זה ועושה מצוה מן המובחר מדליק נר לכל אחד ואחד בלילה הראשון ומוסיף והולך בכל לילה ולילה נר אחד.
ב. כיצד הרי שהיו אנשי הבית עשרה, בלילה הראשון מדליק עשרה נרות ובליל שני עשרים ובליל שלישי שלשים עד שנמצא מדליק בליל שמיני שמונים נרות.
ג. מנהג פשוט בכל ערינו בספרד שיהיו כל אנשי הבית מדליקין נר אחד בלילה הראשון ומוסיפין והולכין נר בכל לילה ולילה עד שנמצא מדליק בליל שמיני שמונה נרות בין שהיו אנשי הבית מרובים בין שהיה אדם אחד.
1. How many lamps should one light on Chanukah? It is a commandment that one light be kindled in each and every house whether it be a household with many people or a house with a single person. One who enhances the commandment should light lamps according to the number of people of the house – a lamp for each and every person, whether they are men or women. One who enhances [it] further than this and performs the commandment in the choicest manner lights a lamp for each person on the first night and continues to add one lamp on each and every night.
2. How is this? See that [if] the people of the household were ten: On the first night, one lights ten lamps; on the second night, twenty; on the third night, thirty; until it comes out that he lights eighty lamps on the eighth night.
3. The widespread custom in all of our cities in Spain is that all of the people of the household light one lamp on the first night. And they continue to add one lamp on each night, until it comes out that one lights eight lamps on the eighth night – whether the people of the household were many or whether it was [only] one man.
Maimonides writes his personal opinion that Mehadrin min HaMehadrin is defined as each individual having a set of candles and adding to it successively over the days of Chanukah. He notes though that the common Minhag in Spain was for a family to only light one set of candles.
As we have seen the Rema codifies the minhag of each individual family member lighting his or her own Chanukah candles. In Darkei Moshe Ha’Aruch he explicitly quotes this idea in the name of Rambam. Similarly, Maharshal in his responsa (no. 85), says the Ashkenazi minhag is based on Rambam. Rav Dovid Novhardoker (19th century) in his Shut Galya Masechet (Responsa no. 6) believes this is an incorrect reading of the Rambam. He believes that a precise reading of the Rambam leads to the conclusion that only one individual should light all the candles corresponding to the number of individuals in a house, based on Rambam’s use of the singular form of the verb (מדליק עשרה). He argues forcefully that there is no source for the concept of each individual lighting his or her own menorah in any Rishon and worries that there may be a concern of bracha l’vetala to follow the standard Ashkenazi minhag.
It is entirely possible that Rema and Maharshal disagreed with the validity of the inference of the Galya Masechet. It’s also possible that they were merely trying to find an early source that is conceptually similar to Minhag Ashkenaz and weren’t concerned for the particular details.
The objections of the Galya Masechet notwithstanding, Rav Ariav Ozer Shlit”a of Yeshivat Itri has pointed[4] to early Geonic evidence that there is a concept of an individual lighting of the Menorah. The relevant responsum is found in a number of places, and in some sources is attributed to the mid-9th century Suran Gaon Sar Shalom b. Boaz. The Genizah version (published in Geonica, no. 343) reads as follows:
ואנשים הרבה בחצר אחת שורת הדין אם משתתפין כולן בשמן יוצאין כולם בנר אחת מדנר שיש לה שתי פיות עולה לשני בני אדם ומדר׳ חונא מילא קערה שמן וכו׳ ומדר׳ זורא מראש הוה משתתפנא בפריטי אלמא בשותפות סגיא אבל הרוצה לחבב ולהדר מצות כל אחד ואחד מדליק נר לעצמו דתנו רבנן מצות נר חנוכה נר איש וביתו והמהדרין נר לכל אחד וא׳ וכו׳
The basic issue in the responsum concerns the possibility of multiple individuals living in one courtyard using one menorah. The Gaon says they technically can chip in together to use one set of candles. Ideally though, they should each light his own menorah as we find concerning the Mehadrin of the Talmud. This reading of the Talmud assumes that the 2nd level of Mehadrin is in fact an individual obligation for each member to light, unlike the Galya Maseches.
It terms of other Geonic material there is an important Genizah find (T-S G2.132 1v) that as of now has only been published in a footnote.[5] The fragment reads as follows:
כחשבון הנפשות, שאם יש חמשה מדליק חמשה או עשרה מדליק עשרה. והמהדרין מן המהדרין הוא טעם שלישי מופרש מן הטעמים הראשונים ובו נחלקו בית שמאי ובית הלל ולא בר…ם ומצוה מן המובחר לעשות כדברי בית הלל כטעם השלישי להדליק לילה הראשונה נר אחד ומיכאן ואילך מוסיף והולך נרות וכך אנו נוהגין מדליקין אנו לילה הראשונה נר אחד בשניֿ שני נרות וב…מוסיפין נר.. ש
It appears the source is saying that the 3rd level is to only light one set of Chanukah candles. If this is the correct inference this would indicate that what eventually became the ‘Sephardic’ custom was already being practiced at a very early period, possibly even in one of the Geonic yeshivot.
As well, In the Siddur of R’ Saadya Gaon[6] we find the following interesting comment (quote is from Assaf’s Hebrew translation)
ומצוותיו הן להדליק נר על פתח כל דירה שלנו, מן ליל כ״ה כסליו עד סוף שמונה ימים, ומהדר ישים נר לכל נפש מאנשי הבית.
Rav Saadya curiously only mentions the 2nd level of Mehardrin. This may be an innocuous omission or it may be an indication that it was not common to light according to the level of Mehadrin min haMehadrin. R. Elazar Hurvitz notes a parallel between Rasag’s words and a Gaonic responsum he published.[7] The responsum contains surprising details both concerning the practice mentioned by the questioner and the Gaon’s response. It reads:
ואשר כתבתם, מנהגנו בחנוכה להדליק בהיכל שמנה נרות, בלילה ראשונה עושין אחת משמאל ושבע לימין ובכל לילה מעתיק אחת מימין לשמאל ע(ל)(ד) לילה שמיני יעשו כולן לשמאל. יודיענו אדונינו גאון היאך עושה. שיש מי שאמר ששה עשרה, שמנה מימין ושמנה משמאל. ילמדינו אדונינו היאך מנהגכם וכיצד נעשה. אנו מנהגינו בבית להדליק כמנין אנשים שיש בבית, כדתנן המהדרין נר לכל אחד ואחד. ובבתי כנסיות עושין כבית הלל, לילה הראשון מדליק אחד, מכאן ואילך מוסיף והולך, ואין עושין כלום מהן מימין, וכך יפה לעשות.
The questioner mentions his own minhag to light eight candles every night! What distinguished one night from the next is that every night one candle was moved from the left to the right. The questioner inquires as to what the Gaon’s practice is, as he has heard some recommend lighting 16 candles (!), eight to the right and eight to the left. The Gaon answers that in fact his minhag is to only fulfill the level of Mehardin min HaMehadrin in the synagogue, while at home the minhag was to perform the 2nd level of mehadrin. So we have explicit proof that there were Gaonim who only lit the level of mehadrin, and Rav Saadya is likely precise in his formulation.
As quoted above, Maimonides noted that the widespread Spanish minhag was for each family to light only one set of Chanukah candles. This minhag is attested in several sources, including the Gaonic responsum above. Another early source for the minhag is the 12th century siddur of Rabbi Shelomo b. Natan.[8] While scholars had originally thought R. Shlomo was from Sijilmassa, Morocco, there has been a growing lack of consensus on the issue. Uri Erlich[9] has suggested the possibility that R. Shlomo was from an area near Aleppo, Syria.
Other later evidence for Spanish practice comes from, among other sources, Ritva,[10] Rabbi Hayim of Toledo,[11] and the Nimukei Yosef.[12] From all these sources it is apparent that the Sephardic custom has unquestionably been to light one set of Chanukah candles per family, in variance with Rambam’s own opinion.
The same minhag is attested in Provence by, among others, both Meiri[13] and Rabbi Meiri HaMeili.[14] Against this, R. Yehonatan of Lunel in his novellae on the Rif[15] says that for Mehadrin min HaMehadrin each individual should have their own set of candles. It is very possible that R. Yehonatan, an avid follower of Rambam, followed Rambam’s personal opinion on the matter. It is unclear if such was ever practiced by a Provencal community.
Returning to Ashkenazic practice, the first explicit source for the minhag to have every individual light appears in the writings of Maharil (c. 1365-1427). Both in his responsa[16] and in the Sefer Maharil,[17] Maharil says the current minhag is for each individual to light, explicitly saying they do not follow the opinion of the Ri. Additionally, Maharil and his students[18] devote significant discussion concerning the possibility for a husband to light separate Chanukah candles when not home (The sources take for granted that even within Minhag Ashkenaz a couple would light only one set of candles, hence the question). These issues were debated extensively by scholars, but no prior discussion of this topic appears. While it is an argument from silence, this alone makes one wonder how popular was the current Minhag Ashkenaz before Maharil (one could also suggest that the minhag used to be that spouses lit their own candles, but this contradicts the simple reading of Shabbat 23a).
Looking through the Ashkenazic Halachic material that precedes Maharil one finds repeated mention of the opinion of Ri that there should be only one set per family. The Mordechai explicitly endorses Ri[19] and quotes that it is the minhag (both in our printed version as well as in Vatican ms. 141, which is the manuscript most authentic to the original Mordechai). As well, the opinion of the Ri is codified in the Agudah[20] (early 14th century), by R. Mendel Klausner[21] (early 14th century) in his Pesakim, and by R. Hizkiya of Magdeburg (late 13th century) in his Pesakim.[22] Not a single source belies any suggestion of the later Ashkenazi minhag.
This leads us back to Tosafot. From the presentation of Tosafot as it appears in our printed Gemaras there is no way of telling how the approach of the Ri related to the contemporaneous practice of lighting in 12th century France and Germany. I had even seen a number of years ago someone cautiously propose that the reason that Mehadrin min HaMehadrin was up for debate in Tosafot was because Jews did not actually light Mehadrin min HaMehadrin and there was no set minhag. A review of the manuscript evidence of Tosafot solves this issue. Guenzburg ms. 636 contains a unique Tosafot on Shabbat authored by a student of Ri.[23] The version of Ri in that manuscript reads as follows:
והמהדר’ין מן המהדרין בית שמי וכו’.נר’אה לר’ דלא קאי אנר לכל אחד ואחד כדי לקיים המנהג שלנו. וטעם נותן ר’בי לדבר דהא לא הוי פרסומי ניסא דהא לא ידיע כמה ימים עברו וכמה יש לבא. וא”ת בפחות או ביתר ידיע שיש בלילה אחת יותר או פחות מחבירתה. בהא לא מינכר משום דאמרי אינשי נתרבו או נתמעטו בני הבית. מ”ר.
In this version, the Tosafot writes that Ri offered this explanation of the sugya specifically in order to substantiate the minhag! This is also found explicitly in the version of Tosafot that appears on the side of the Rif in many manuscripts, and is known as Tosafot Alfas. These Tosafot were gathered by Rabbi Yisrael b. Yoel, also known as R. Zuslein, in the 14th century. He seems to also be the collator of the Rashi on the Rif.[24] His version of Tosafot appears as follows[25]
המהדרין נר לכל אחד נר׳ לר”י שיש הידור כב”ה ליל ראשון אחת ומוסיף כל לילה אחת כמו שאנו נוהגי דאז איכא הכר כל הימים כנגד ימים הנכנסים אבל אם עושה נר לכל אחד ואחד ואפי’ יוסיף מכאן ואילך ליכא הכר שהנכנסים יסברו שכך דרך יש בני אדם בבית…
While not as direct as the previous Tosafot, it is clear that the Ri is explaining the Gemara to be in consonance with the minhag. In fact, upon reexamination, it appears that the Mordechai is in fact just quoting this exact version of the Tosafot when he writes
ולמהדרין נר לכל א’ נראה לר”י שיש יותר הידור לב”ה לילה הראשון א’ ומוסיף בכל לילה א’ כמו שאנו נוהגין…
It turns out then that originally the minhag for Ashkenazim and Sepharadim was the same. Only in the late 14th century is there any explicit evidence of a counter minhag. It is plausible that the rupture of the Black Plague and the related pogroms could have been a factor. Why specifically the minhag would have switched to requiring more people to light candles, and hence cost more money, would be unclear.
But that is not the end of the discussion on Minhag Ashkenaz. Some scholars disagreed with the Ri’s reading of the gemara. They presumably thought it was too farfetched to think that Mehadrin min haMehadrin does not directly build on Mehadrin. Two sources provide a very different way to defend the minhag of lighting only one set of candles. The first is found in the margins of Frankfurt Ms. Oct 81, which is a copy of the Piskei Mahariach on Shabbat.[26] The anonymous author, quoting his father R. Shlomo’s Tosafot, writes as follows:
מתוספות מורי אבי ה”ר שלמה נר”ו, וא”ת למה אין אנו עושין כמו מהדרין, שפירושו נר אחד לכל אחד מבני הבית. טעמא שלא יאמרו הגוים שעושין כשפים בשביל שאין רואין בכל בית בשוה:
While he mentions Mehadrin, I believe he is really inquiring as to why we don’t similarly mandate that each individual light his or her own menorah for Mehadrin min haMehadrin. He says that there is a concern that the non-Jews will think that the Jews are engaged in witchcraft if they see different numbers of candles in different houses. R. Avraham Shoshana in his notes on the Mahariach notes that Ritva quotes the same idea.[27] He writes
ופי’ הר’ יוסף דלהכי אין אנו כמהדרים ולא כמהדרים מן המהדרים פן יחשדו בכשפים (כי) אם היה לכל אחד נר.
This opinion of R. Yosef is immediately contrasted in the Ritva with the Ri. R. Shoshana suggests that this R. Yosef is in fact none other than Ri Porat, a 12th century Tosafist who disputes the Ri concerning a number of Chanukah topics. If this is true then even as early as the 12th century the Ri and Ri Porat were debating if it is possible to read the gemara in accordance with the minhag. Ri Porat is suggesting that there is an external factor that is causing the minhag to differ from dina d’gemara. According to this logic, if circumstances would change it would be appropriate for each individual to light his or her own menorah. This approach may have been a factor behind the switch within minhag Ashkenaz.
There may be some evidence from medieval Italy that would suggest they lit multiple sets of Chanukah candles. The Riaz (13th century) explicitly endorses the opinion that each individual should have their own set of candles.[28] Like Ri MiLunel, it is entirely unclear from the source whether such was practiced in any institution. Unlike Provence though, we do not have the same unequivocal evidence about what the Italian minhag was. In Sefer Tanya, a 13th century work modeled to a large degree on Shibbolei HaLeket, the author writes the following[29]
מצות נר חנוכה מדליק נרות כנגד כל בני הבית ולפחות נר אחד לכולן. ויום ראשון מדליק בה פתילה אחת. וביום שני שתים. וכן מוסיף והולך עד יום השמיני
The Tanya begins by saying that “the candles are lit ‘kneged’ all the members of the house, and at minimum one candle for everyone.” He then begins to describe the level of mehadrin min hamehadrin. From the flow of his comments it seems that kneged means that candles are lit according to the number of household members, and it is possible to add to each set as per mehadrin min hamehadrin, like the Riaz.
Many of the manuscripts of Mahzor Bnei Roma carry a common set of Halachot. Six manuscripts[30] I surveyed all state that on the 25 of Kislev we begin lighting candles
כל אחד ואחד בביתו
Which could be understood that every individual member of the household lights his or her own set of candles. The parallel text is found in Sefer HaTadir[31] (Italy 14th century) that states.
וכן בכל בתי בני ישראל שמנה לילות זו אחר זו כל בעל הבית לעצמו ובכל לילה מוסיפין פתילה אח׳ עד שיעלו בליל האחרון לסכום שמנה.
Which is clear that only the head of the household lights candles. So it is possible there were two competing minhagim in Italy and one may have even influenced minhag Ashkenaz but the data currently is too meager to fully resolve the issue.
[1] Translation and elucidation from The William Davidson digital edition of the Koren Noé Talmud, available on Sefaria.org. Transliteration slightly changed. [2] Translation from Sefaria.org with some changes [3] Translation from R. Francis Nataf (2019) available on Sefaria.org [4] In one of his weekly shiurim that are then typed, I can’t currently find the original write-up. [5] Transcription is my own from the original fragment (4 תשובות הגאונים עם תשובות ופסקים מחכמי פרובינציה (ישיבה אוניברסיטה תשנ״ה עמוד 233 הערה [6] סידור רס״ג עמודים רנד-רנה מהד׳ ש. אסף ירושלים תש״ה [7] תשובות הגאונים הנ״ל (n. 5) שם חלק ב׳ תשובה צא עמודים 232-233 והערה 2 [8] סידור רבי שלמה בן נתן ירושלים תשנ״ה (עמוד עג) בתרגום [9] In כנישתא, vol. 4 (pages 23-26) [10] Commentary on BT Shabbat ad loc, s.v. והמדהרים [11] Student of Rashba (late 13th- early 14th cen.), in his צרור החיים. הדורת ש’ חגי ירושלמי, ירושלים תשכ”ו page 110, משפט חנוכה וראש חדש סימן ב׳ [12] Commentary on BT Shabbat ad loc, s.v. והמהדרין מן המהדרין, Blau ed. page 34 link [13] In his commentary Beit HaBechirah on BT Shabbat ad loc, s.v. מצות חנוכה [14] In his commentary ספר המאורות on Shabbat ad loc, sv מצות נר חנוכה, Blau ed. Page 69 [15] 9b in the pagination of the Rif, s.v. נר איש וביתו [16] No. 145 [17] In the chapter on Chanukah section 8 [18] ׳עיין חידושי דינין והלכות למהר”י ווייל סימן לא, תרומת הדשן סימן קא, לקט יושר הל׳ חנוכה, ושו”ת מהר”י מברונא סימן נ
[19]רמז רע בדפוס
[20]שבת פרק ב׳ סימן לב׳
[21] שבת פרק ב׳ דף כ: מהד׳ בלוי עמוד של״בlink [22] Piskei Mahariach Shabbat 21b, page 162 in the Blau ed. link [23] It has been published by Machon Ofeq under the title תוספות ר״י הזקן ותלמידו [24] For more information concerning the Tosafot written on the Rif see the article from R’ Avraham Chavatzelet of Machon Yerushalayim in Moriah (Yr. 18, Gilyon 11-12, Shevat 5753, Pp 95-102) [25] Text is transcribed from British Library Add. Ms. 17049 [26] These notes were published as the Gilyon in both Rabbi Blau’s ed. (see note 22) and in R. Shoshana’s edition of the Piskei Mahariach on Shabbat (which is included at the end of vol. 3 of תוספות ר״י הזקן ותלמידו) [27] Commentary on BT Shabbat ad loc, s.v. והמדהרים [28] In his Pesakim on Shabbat 21b [29] Warsaw 1879 ed. page 77 link, I’ve also compared it with ms. versions. [30] Paris ms. hebr. 599, Parma nos. 2221, 2228, 2405, 3132, and Saraval no. 60 [31] Published by Blau from Parma 2999, Sefer HaTadir also appears in the margins of Mahzor Bnei Roma in Lon BL ms. Harley 5686, text is found in Blau on pgs 204-205 link
Lecture Announcement: Dr. Marc Shapiro
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The Seforim Blog is pleased to announce that esteemed Seforim Blog contributor Dr. Marc Shapiro is speaking at Young Israel Beth-El of Boro Park, 4802 15th Avenue in Brooklyn, this coming Saturday night December 21 at 8pm.
The title of his talk is “Judaism and Islam: Some Historical and Halakhic Perspectives”.
Should we celebrate birthdays or not? Is it better to ignore them?
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Should we celebrate birthdays or not? Is it better to ignore them? By Rav Binyamin Wattenberg
The author agreed to have it translated into English but did not review the translation.
The author, Rav Binyamin Wattenberg teaches Talmud in Neuilly sur Seine, France, among other talmudic activities (techouvot.com…)
This subject is widely debated in our sefarim. Some are convinced that it is entirely a “non-Jewish” custom which is important not to follow, but I think that it is rather because of ignorance of what has been written on the subject.
I will try to summarize the different rabbinical positions with their reason, and as we will see we can find anything and everything.
GOOD MAZAL
The Yerushalmi Rosh Hashana (III, 8) relates that Amalek placed soldiers on their birthday at the battle front because they would have a good “mazal” and Moshe had to “mix mazalot”. Korban Haeda explains that by raising his hands, Moshe “mixed / disturbed” the Mazalot to counter the good mazal of Amalek’s warriors.
This idea is also found in the Chida who writes (Chomat Anakh, Iyov 3) on behalf of the Kabbalists that the birthday is a day of good mazal.[1]
That would explain the wish of the day: Mazal Tov!
There is also Rabbi Tsadok Hacohen Rabinovicz of Lublin in his Resisei Layla (Divrei Chalomot 20) who writes that a man has nothing to fear on his birthday and while the Gmara Kiddushin (38a) says that Tzadikim die on their birthday (and therefore have something to fear about), it is because for them, death is an accession to a higher level (and is therefore a positive occasion).[2]
There is a more plausible explanation of the Maguen Avraham in his Zayis Raanan on Yalkut Shimoni (‘Habakkuk 3) who answers that it is a blessing for the tzaddik to die on his birthday because “the Holy One, Blessed be He, sits and completes the years of the righteous from day to day” (Kiddushin 38a, Sotah 13b and Rosh Hashana 11a).[3]
But some consider that this good mazal on this day concerns only non-Jews (like Amalek).[4]
This is perhaps why we find several authors who are very reluctant about the idea that a Jew could celebrate such a day.
AGAINST CELEBRATING:
For example, in his Torah Shleima (Vayeshev p.1522 note 49), Rav Menachem Kasher quotes a manuscript (Chemat Hachemda) commentary on Bereshit 40, 20, that still today, non-Jews celebrate birthdays (meaning that Jews do not).[5]
Certainly, in the Gmara (Moed Katan 28a) we are told that Rav Yossef celebrated his 60th birthday, but that also indicates that he did not celebrate his other birthdays – neither he nor the other Amoraim – and it is only for its 60th that he wished to celebrate because – as he says it – it excluded Karet’s punishment.
The Minchat Elazar (the Munkasz’ Rebbe) writes[6] that there is nothing to celebrate on one’s birthday since the Sages tell us (Eruvin 13b) that it would have been better for the man not to be born.[7]
It is also the position of many authors, such as : Rav Horovitz of Strasbourg (and then of Badats of Jerusalem) in his Shout Kinian Torah Bahalacha (III, §21), Arugat Habossem (II, §215),[8] Abelsohn (Shut Knesset Avraham Yoel, §6 p.116 – linked with Shut Etz Chaim),[9] R. Tsadok Hacohen (Likutei Maamarim §13, p.140), the Klausenburg-Sanz Rebbe (Michtevei Torah II, 82 p.55), Rav Shlomo Zalman Bloch (Hatzadik R. Shlomo, p.29, ot 18), Patsovsky rav (Pardes Yosef Vayeshev Milouim p.48 and in the new edition, Bereshit II, p.777), Rav Dunner (Leket Sheelot Hametzuyot IV, p.13 and Kol Hatorah 65, p.164), Rav Stern (Beer Moshe) and Rav Wozner (Shevet Halevy) both quoted by Rav Harfenes in Beit Vaad LaChachamim (adar 2009, p.356), Shut Lehorot Natan (IX, §5, 9),[10] Gdulat Yehoshua (Chelek 2, Hakdama), Rav Shmuel Mohliver (Midei Chodesh BeChodsho, II, Jerusalem 1957, p.192 and Shana Beshana 1976, p.237).
In Hapeles (shana III, 1903, p.633) it cites the Beer Yitzchak of rav Itzchak Ber Levinzohn (p.34) stating that birthdays were non-Jewish holidays close to Avoda zara, although this Rav himself was close to Haskala![11]
The Kinian Torah Bahalacha (III, §21) is also opposed to celebrating birthdays, and quotes in support the Vizhnits’ Rebbe, Ahavat Israel, who refused to make a seuda for his 70th birthday and recited a lot of Tehilim and Bakachot instead.[12]
Rav Israel of Rouzhin also vigorously refused the surprise birthday organized by his wife and dismissed all the guests.[13]
The Otsar Kol Minhaguei Yeshurun (4th ed., §XXVII, 4, p.60 and 3rd ed., St Louis 1917-8, Hashmatot §14, p.304) considers that celebrating one’s birthday is a non-Jewish custom and the only character in the Choumash that one finds celebrating his birthday is Paro.[14]
It seems that it is also the opinion of the Aderet in his Nefesh David (p.129) who did not appreciate when we wished him a happy birthday, saying that it was never a holiday among the Jews and that the only one that one finds celebrating his birthday in the Chumash is Pharaoh, while the Gmara Erouvin (13b) tells us that it would have been better not to be born … He even states that he tries to forget that it is his birthday because it causes him great sadness[15] (because “it is better not to be born …”).[16]
He emphasizes, however, that the Tzadikim have something to celebrate their birth, according to the opinion of Tosfot (Avoda Zara 5a).
He nevertheless rejoiced on the day of his 60 years for the same reasons as Rav Yosef in Moed Katan (28a), as he wrote in a letter (Eder Hayakar II, Igrot, p.93, §14 ).
Not that you have to be ashkenaz to oppose birthdays. The Rav Chalfon Moshe HaC ohen in his Yad Moshe (Vayeshev, §63 daf 70b) writes that the custom of celebrating birthdays is very present in Europe, but we (the Jews) mark this date with fasting and repentance, preferring in this the useful to the pleasant.
There is in any case a very clear tendency to connect the birthday party to Pharaoh and that would therefore be considered as a “non-Jewish” rejoicing.[17]
IN FAVOR OF CELBRATING BIRTHDAYS :
However, one could just as easily see things differently.
For the Sadigura Rebbe,[18] if the Torah tells us that there was a celebration in honor of Pharaoh’s birthday, it is not in vain, it is here for us to learn that we must celebrate birthdays. And even though Pharaoh is not a good person, the fact that the Torah mentions it indicates it has to be a followed practice. He brings as a support we learn the principle of not mixing two feasts (ein mearvin simcha bessimcha) from the Torah relating the habit of the non-Jews and particulary Lavan (see Bereshit XXIX, 27 and see Yeroushalmi Moed Katan I, 7) ; and Lavan is also the source for the idea of the seven days of wedding’s festivities.
Therefore, it should not be considered as a non-Jewish minhag, and there is no problem of Chukot hagoyim in celebrating birthdays (see also Shut Beth David, §176).
Rabbi Meir Mazouz also writes (annotations on Ben Ish Chai shana 1, Ree §7, p.580) that he has heard that some people are against celebrating birthdays but since he remembers reading that the Baal Shem Tov was celebrating his – on Elul 18th – and deduces that there is no problem.[19]
His brother-in-law, Rav Yitzchak Berdah, is even clearer in his Shut Yitzak Yeranen (V, §54) and validates the birthdays minhag by writing that those who do so have whom to rely upon.
Rav Nissim Karelitz (Chut Hashani, §195, 1, 6 p.215), unlike Rav Zeldner cited above, does not seem to consider it problematic to offer a birthday present.[20]
Ben Ish Chai (I, Ree, §17) writes that it is a good custom to celebrate birthdays every year and note that some are celebrating the anniversary of their circumcision, indicating that in his family, they usually follow the first minhag (= celebrate the day of birth).[21]
R. Avraham Pallagi in his Veavraham Zaken (Yod, §19) mentions also the minhag of celebrating birthdays. Yabia Omer (VI, WH, §29) also finds this positive.
The custom of a birthday seuda, has also been endorsed by multiple and different authors such as’ Havot Yair (§70), Shout Beth Israel (Landau) (§32), Beer Moshe (Yeroushalaimsky) (Maamar Zikhron Tov, daf 138a, §5).
The Tiferet Israel, in his will prompts his children to mutually wish each other good wishes on the days of their respective birthdays (Hamaayan -Tamuz 1971- ot 6).
It is also a habit taken seriously by Loubavitsh Chassidim. The chabad literature is full of advice and remarks on to conduct oneself on one’s birthday and even tracks sources for it in Kabbalah (Shaarei Halakha UMinhag II, §302).
We also find many Tzadikim who have celebrated their birthdays themselves.
Rabbi Avraham Pallagi already mentioned, celebrated his birthday every year from the age of 70 – according to the testimony of his son Rabbi Avraham Pallagi (Tsavaa Mechaim §40 and see also Guinzei Chaim, yud §16). And this is also the case of Rabbi David Chazan quoted in Yishrei Lev (daf 2b).[22]
We also find the Midrash Sechel Tov (XL, 20 ; p.247) stating that “the majority of “people” enjoy (mechavevim) their birthday, rejoice and make a feast”. (But it’s not clear if he speaks only of gentiles or also of jews.)
The Ktav Sofer probably did not celebrate each of his birthdays with great fanfare, but celebrated his 50th one publicly (see Shut Ktav Sofer Y “D, §148).[23]
We also know – as mentioned above – that Rav Yosef celebrated his 60th birthday (Moed Katan 28a).
And this habit was followed by several rabanim, such as the Trumat Hadeshen, quoted by his pupil (Leket Yosher II, Y “D, p.40), or the Tshortkov Rebbe and the Rudzimin’s Rabbi both cited by R.A Nayerman in his Toafot Reem (volume 1, Warsaw 1936, p.30, §23).
We also find the idea of especially thanking G-d on one’s 60th birthday, as Pele Yoets in his Chesed Laalafim (§221-230, sk.8, p.372) who advocates reciting Shehechiyanu without shem UMalchut or else to prepare a fruit or a new garment for that. This is also the Ben Ish Chai’s opinion (I, Ree, §9) for the 60th and 70th birthday.
For the 70th birthday, we find in Shut Chavot Yair (§70) that it is necessary to recite Shehechiyanu (without restriction). But this opinion is not followed and the Chida (Birkei Yosef-Shiyurei Bracha §223, sk.2) will impose the same restrictions as for 60th birthday, i.e without pronouncing the name of G-d or wearing a new garment (or eating a new fruit).
See as well the Pri Megadim (Mish Zahav §444, sk.9), Shut Tzitz Eliezer (XVIII, §33), Shut Tshuva Meahava (II, §239), Samach Nefesh (erekh Shehechyanu), Rabbi Avraham Pallagi (Tsavaa Mechaim, §40), Hagahot Chatam Sofer (O.C §225), Shut R. Yedidia Tia Weill (Y “D §106 p.224 of the recent edition), Kaf Hachaim (§223, sk.28), Shut Beth Israel (Landau) (§32), Shut Beth David (§176), Chesed Laalafim (§221-23, sk.8), Divrei Israel (II, p.175) and Afarkasta Deania (I, §123), who all oppose reciting shehchiyanu “only because of the 70th birthday”, since this blessing should only be recited for the situations indicated by Chazal, as Shut Olat Shmuel (Kauder) writes (I, §22 ).[24]
However, it will still be necessary to mark the hit. The Chafetz Chaim, for his 70th birthday, invited rav Elchanan Wasserman and rav Yossef Shlomo Kahaneman for a little cake and drink and recited Shehechiyanu! (Mishnat Yaakov II, §225).
But according to other sources (Hechafetz Chaim, chayav UPealo, p.312), he did it (on his 70th birthday) on a new garment.[25]
The Chafetz Chaim also celebrated his 90th birthday and finished his Beth Israel that day (see Hechafetz Chaim, chayav UPealo, p.25).
I was myself invited to the 80th birthday (the last one) of my teacher Rabbi Chaim Yaakov Rottenberg (see Shut Beth Israel -Landau- §32), he did not recite shehechiyanu, but there was cake anyway.
Rav Fishman-Maïmon also celebrated his 80th birthday, and Rav Reuven Margulies participated to the “party” (Machanayim LXXII of Elul 5722 -1962, page 41).
Rav Nathan Adler, from London, traveled to Hanover, Germany for his mother’s 80th birthday (Letter from Rav Shlomo Eiger, printed in Igrot Sofrim, 1, p.83).
It seems that Rav Sonnenfeld also “celebrated” his 80th birthday and Rav Mendel Alter (son of the Sfas Emes) presented him his wishes despite some hesitation about the dubious origin of the birthday minhag (see his letter printed in Kerem Shlomo – Bobov – vol.205, p.47).
But for the 60 years, it is likely that there was nothing dubious, since his older brother, since the Imrei Emes, organized his (the Imrei Emes) 60th birthday party and during the meal he explained the reason for rejoicing, i.e Moed Katan 28a (Shut Maharaav – R. Avraham Binyamin Zilberberg – NY 1941, Volume 2, §61).
Returning to the 70th birthday, Rav Schneebalg (Shut Shraga Haméir IV, §69) was in favor of celebrating it.
Sdei Chemed also celebrated his (Hameassef X, Tevet 5665, IV, p.43 and p.46), and it is also the case of the Vizhnitz rebbe who celebrated it joyfully with his pupils (Israel Saba Kadisha, II, p. 177). This is also what Rav Michael Goldberger did.[26]
In 1860, for Shir’s 70th birthday (Rav Shlomo Yehuda Rapoport), his students had prepared a feast and honors for him, but he refused the honors, humbly explaining that he was born in the year Takan / TIKEN (1790) but he has not been Metaken – Ma Tikanti? (Toldot Shir of Bernfeld, p.126).
See also Voice of Truth(p.282-3) or in Hebrew Kol Chotsev (p.263-4) about the 70th birthday of Rav Schwadron.[27]
We ca find another rationale for the celebration of the 70th birthday. In the Mekor Chesed (Rav Reouven Margulies) on Sefer Chasidim (§213, note 1 ), it brings that the Yerushalmi (Yevamot VIII, 3) states that a plague occurs (at least) once every 60 or 70 years. Therefore, whoever reaches his 70 years has certainly escaped the plague that has declared “in his day”, and that’s a good reason to make a “seudat Hodaa”!
Finally, we even find in the Orchot Chaim (Bukhner) (Krakow edition 1654, §16) that the 60th and 70th birthday’s meals are of the nature of a Seudat Mitzvah.
We realize therefore that many (to the exception of those mentioned in the previous part) view positively the birthday party, and especially those of the 60th and 70th one. But we still have to define what should be done to celebrate a birthday properly.
HOW TO CELEBRATE?
On one’s birthday, it is proper to :
– as we have seen bless Shehechyanu on a fruit or a new garment (Shut Guinzei Yossef §4, 2 quoting his father-in-law, Rav Deutsch, author of Shut Pri Hassadé);
– give a lot of tzedakah (R. Chaim Pallagi in Tzedaka Lechaim – maarechet ayin §555)
– make it a “day of prayer” (Melitsei Esh p.54)
– dedicate this day or at least most of it for divine service (Torat Shalom-Schneersohn-p.398 ; Kerem Habad II, p.102 ; see also Hapardes, year 62 volume 9, p.2 on the name of the Lubavitsh Rebbe)
– learn a lot (Shut Hillel Omer, O “H §139).[28]
One should also be careful to reserve a moment for introspection and Cheshbon Hanefesh over the past year, as the Chut Hameshoulash (Munkasz edition 1893, volume 1, daf 59b-60a footnote) brings about the Ktav Sofer who had locked up hiself on his birthday (54th one) and someone who mistakenly entered the room found him sitting on the floor crying, and asked him what was happening to which he replied that he was crying over the loss of time over the past years (see also the preface to Ktav Sofer Al Hatorah, p.29)
In Shut Hadar (§18), the author states that his master – the Rav of Stretin – wanted to have an aliyah to the Torah on his birthday (which is not feasible every year …). In the same vein, the Divrei Yechezkel Shraga (parshat Vayakel) and the Tehilat Caim (p.409) bring down that the Divrei Yechezkel of Shinova wanted to be shaliach tzibur on his birthday (which is practicable more often). And this is also what R. Shaul Broch did (Shaul Behir Hashem, Ashkavta derabbi, p.275)
See also Torat Shalom (p. 406) who – for his birthday – advocates having an aliyah to the Torah, giving tzedakah, adding moments of prayer, tehilim, study and introspection, bless shehechiyanu on a fruit or a garnment (etc).
I have also read in the name Spinka Rebbe quoted in the Shut Chakal Yitzchak (I, 3) that it is appropriate on one’s birthday, to take upon oneself the commitment on something one knows he has to work on.[29]
There is also a notion of making a Siyum on a birthday.
Several rabanim wanted to make a siyum on their birthday, the Terumat Hadeshen did one on his 60th birthday (Leket Yosher II, Y “D, p.40).
See also Leket Hakemach (131) that it is appropriate to mix this rejoicing with a siyum massechet.
Thus, the Chatam Sofer planned that the end of the cycle of chumash study with his pupils falls on his birthday – the 7th Tishri (Minhaguei CS, VII, §14, p.31).[30]
His son Ktav Sofer also completed a massechet each year on his birthday (Chout Hameshoulash ed Munkasz 1893, Volume 1, daf 59b footnote).
Another fact deserves to be emphasized:
In the Sheerit Natan (p.392 ; quoted in Or Israel 46, p.249) we find a very particular siyum minhag that was taking place at Yeshivat Chachmei Lublin, every 7th Adar, birthday of the Rosh yeshiva Rabbi Meir Shapira (initiator of the study of Daf Yomi). Talmud treatises were “dispatched”, and each student took a massechet or half of it, in order that they altogether fnished Shas in one night, so that on the next day, the 7th of Adar, they were all together making a great Siyum Hashas with the Rav.
All this being said, personally, I will be tempted to give an argument in favor of those who celebrate their birthdays, but I have not seen any Acharon underlining this aspect (except Torat Shalom -Schneersohn (p.399-400 ) I found recently):
The halacha is to celebrate annually a miracle that would have happened to us (see Mishna Berura end of §218), for example the one who survives a fatal accident must celebrate this event every year.
If it is so, given the great danger of a baby birth, one could consider that it is necessary to celebrate the miracle of his birth each year.
True, nowadays, in civilized countries, the risk of miscarriage is pretty much reduced and infant mortality has also fallen down, B “H, but if the minhag has been implanted since a time when it was not the case, we may continue this custom because the danger is still not totally absent.
Only that according to this, it should also be that each mom celebrates the birthday of each of her children, because she also escaped death that day.
And, according to this rationale, we should celebrate the Hebrew date rather than the civil one.[31]
Anyway, even if no halakhic argument would push to celebrate the birthdays (and it is probable because we proved Moed Katan 28a that the Amoraim did not celebrate any birthday, only Rav Yosef distinguished itself by celebrating 60 years old – and only that one …), there is another reason, especially for children: nowadays this custom is widespread and children are sometimes misled and are tempted to move away from family. It is beneficial to show each child in the family that he is important and at least one day a year, we celebrate together. He becomes the hero of a day.
See also, a bit in this way, Kitvei Reb Eizik (Schwei) (p.273) and Torat Shalom (p.405).
At the time of the Talmud, it was not necessary, but today it can be according to the situations, the families and the place.
It would be inappropriate to say that since the Amoraim did not celebrate them, we must refrain from doing so.
To refrain from them at their time meant nothing particular, because no one was celebrating them (among the Jews at least). Today it would have another meaning for the child …
It cannot be said that he fails to celebrate, but that those who are accustomed to it should not lose it under a “religious” pretext, they must perhaps channel its spirit and enhance it by making it look, more “kadosh”, by giving more meaning to it.
See also Shut Mayim Hahalacha (Metzger) (IV, §46) who writes that it is necessary to know how to give a kedusha spirit to birthdays and not to celebrate them in frivolity.
More generally, Rav Shach used to say (see Machshevet Zkenim p.342 and also p.141 and 332) that each birthday brings us closer to death, so why rejoice? That is why only the “ben aliya”, the one who progresses from year to year in the Torah, must rejoice, because each passing year carries a new advance in Avodat Hashem, so it is closer to Chayei Netsach, the reverse of death, for the tzaddikim are called alive even after their death (Brakhot 18a).
Once a rav had suggested to the great and famous Rav Yechezkel Lewinstein – when he was mashgiach of Ponovez – to suppress the minhag of the “Santukha” (small celebration among friends of the Yeshiva when one of them is engaged) for it is systematically engaged in flattery to highlight the qualities of the chatan and the speaker, in a laudatory spirit, sometimes praises too much, which necessarily leads to a uncontrollable feeling of pride so repudiated by Baalei Moussar.
Rav Lewinstein exclaimed: “Once in the life of a man it happens that his friends give him compliments and even that you want to suppress?! “
IN CONCLUSION: It is perfectly legitimate to wish and celebrate birthdays, but you must know how to do it.
Those who are not used to accompany a family snack with Cheshbon Hanefesh are not required to adopt this minhag. But those who already celebrate this day with a small party should not abandon this beautiful habit because of some rabbis who grumble against birthdays; as we have seen, the rabbis who attached importance to these moments of rejoicing are very numerous and to the extent that one does not feast bestially but for a constructive purpose, with a feeling of Hodaa, Tshuva and introspection, it’s a very good Minhag.
[1] See also Ben Yehoyada Brachot 28a, that if a miracle happens on one’s birthday, it does not diminish his merits… [2] It seems that some Tzadikim were not so happy to leave this world. The story that is told about the Gaon or the ‘Hazon Ish (or others, depending on the version), who would have cried before dying while saying regret a world where we can buy mitzvot for some pennies like Tzitzis, shows us that feelings are mixed …. [3] Which means that by dying on that day, it indicates that they could have died before but have benefited from an extension, so it is “positive”. [4] Taam Vodaas Bereichit XL, 20, however, see Nefesh Chaya (Orach Chaim §580). [5] From Rav Aharon Zeldner’s Mate Aharon (p.68) it is deduced that giving a gift to a friend on his birthday is a non-Jewish custom not to follow. [6] Minchat Elazar in his Divrei Torah (V, §88). [7] This argument seems strange. In fact, we find in the prayers, all kind of different expressions of gratitude to G-d for the life He gives us (the Gomel, for example), which seems to indicate that life has its interest …
Moreover, Ramban (Shemot XIII, 16) writes that we must thank G-d for creating us.
We must therefore temper the teaching quoted (Erouvin 13b), since it is impossible to interpret it as if God had made a mistake by creating us!
It is only from men’s viewpoint that he would have been “noach“, pleasant/easier, to not have been created. Easier, certainly, but not “preferable” since G-d knows what He does. [8] But his son (Shut Migdalot Merkachim, O.C, §31) greatly relativizes his father’s opposition by explaining the very particular context of this responsum and the specific case of the person who was concerned. Shut Vayaan Yossef(§73) also diminish the opposition of Arugat Habossem stating he was only opposed to big feasts, but not to small family party at home (see also in the same way Kvod Chachamim (Jerusalem 1982 – p.208, rav Meir Eisenstein’s maamar). [9] See also in his Knesset Chachmei Israel, kountras 3, §66, 4 daf 65b and Kountras 6, §115, 1 daf 125a. [10] Though he tolerates a birthday meal if it is exclusively reserved for scholars, as Rav Yossef did in Moed Katan 28a – see Lehorot Natan IX, § 5, 11. [11] Rav H.D Halévy (Asse Lecha Rav IV, §26) has not read it, but writes that it is obvious that there is no issur Avoda Zara nor Chukot Hagoyim, because the Avoda Zara part was only the sacrifices they brought to their gods, but to celebrate a birthday is in itself a healthy idea. [12] He quotes also his grandfather Rav Pinchas Chaim Horovitz, the Pitcha Zuta, whom he was surprised to see on his birthday – on the 18th Tamouz 1938 – crying while reading Tehilim. He explained to his grandson (the Ahavat Israel) that he was crying over the suffering he had cause to his mother when he was born 80 years earlier … However, see how Rav Eisenstein (Zichron Shlomo, p.214 and following) rejects every argument of Rav Horovitz. [13] Shout Knesset Avraham Yoel – Abelsohn – §6 p.116 and Knesset Chachmei Israel §115, 1 daf 125a. [14] He also states that when the pupils of Rav Yitzchak Elhanan Spektor of Kovno in 1889 wanted to celebrate the anniversary of his 50th year in the rabbinate, he was firmly opposed it – but this was not really a birthday [Actually, it was for his 25th years (not the 50th) in Kovno, as we see in Hatzfira (No. 68) and later on in Shana Beshana (1976, p.237), even if it was already his 52th in the rabbinate in different cities].
The opposition of the Rav was also published in Hatzfira (No. 77 – 11 Nissan 1889) and for more on this subject see Toldot Yitzchak p.114 of Rav Yaakov Lifshitz, Darkenu (shana II , guilion 3, p.16) and Pardes Yosef (Vayeshev Miluim p.48) who quotes several opponents of birthdays, including “the Toldot Yitzchak of an Italian rav with the Kotna rav’s haskama” [There is indeed a Toldot Yitzchak of the rav Yitzchak Luzzato but it is a book of poems and songs which does not contains neither an approval of the Kotna’s rav, nor opposition to birthdays party. In fact, the Pardes Yossef mixed up when copying the references on this subject from the Darkenu (op cit) which quotes Toldot Yitzchak and thenKochav MiYaakov of an Italian rav with approval of Kotna’s rav (in the Kochav MiYaakov it’s p.54)].
As an aside, many other rabanim did not mind celebrating the anniversary years of their rabbinate or action for Torah, often by the publication of a sefer Hayovel, as for R. Shimon Schkop for his 50 years of teaching (see what Moshe Avigdor Amiel writs in this collection, in 1943 there will also be a sefer Hayovel for him), Rabbi Meir Shapira from Lublin (in 1930) for his 20 years in the service of the Torah, Rav Fishman-Maïmon for his 50 years (in 1926), sefer Hayovel for Rav Rabinovicz’s 70th birthday (NY 1930), another for 70 years of rav Azriel Hildesheimer (Shay Lemora), and for his rav, rav Yitzchak Bernays, for whom his 25 years of rabbinate in Hamburg were celebrated with great fanfare in 1846 (Shana Beshana 5736 p.238). [15] Rabbi David Pardo, author of many sfarim including Lamnatzeach LeDavid and Chasdei David, writes at the end of his commentary Shoshanim LeDavid that he finished it on his 34th birthday, 1st Nissan 1752, and it does not seem to sadden him at all … [16] But he himself writes in his Har Hamoria (Ahavat Shalom ed., P.59) that he requoted the Bracha of Shehechiyanu for his birthday with great joy! [However, in this instance, he was sick, with 41 ° C fever (!) and thought he would pass away. So, when he had the strength to pray Shavuos Maariv BeTzibur, he rejoiced (and thus the Shehechiyanu blessing). Especially since having been born in Shavuot, he perhaps said it for the Yom Tov, although he wrote that he requoted it for his birthday). [17] We also find some who were opposed to the celebration of a death day (yohrtseit) of a tzaddik! In 1890, some wanted to celebrate the 50 years of the death of Chatam Sofer, but his students, Rav Naftali Sofer (see the beginning of Kountras Beth Efraim printed at the end of Et Sofer Volume 2) and Rav Yehuda Modern (strange name for a disciple of Chatam Sofer, symbol of the opposition to modernism deviating from the massoret) for whom it was a non-Jewish custom directly inspired by Maskilim who had recently (in 1886) celebrated the 100 years of the death of their master Mendelssohn, opposed it. “Yohrtzeit” yes, but “specifically for the 50th years”, no ! (Leket Shoshana (1942, §19) and Beth Vaad Lachachamim (Nissan 5771, p.463)). It is the idea that there would be a particular reason to celebrate only the symbolic years because “round”, which displeased these Rabanim.
Personally, I do not see why this notion should be classified as heretical / non-Jewish, if not – and it is this their real motive – in my opinion – because of the likeness with the Maskilim whose aspirations were rarely holy.The Rabanim at that time were doing everything to remove their flock from the Maskilim in order to stop the spread of the Haskala “virus”, it is a kind of prophylactic disposition.It would have been purely conjunctural, so, nowadays “the prohibition” would no longer be appropriate, but disbanded.And it is probably what could explain why for the 100th years of the death of Chatam Sofer (in 1940), they published a Sefer Hazikaron with a great ceremony in Pressburg, presided over by R. Akiva Sofer himself. [18] Quoted in Messilot-Kislev 5747 ; see also Abir Yaakov – of the Sadigura Rebbe- p.161 [19] He does not remember where he has read this about the Baal Shem Tov, but I suppose it’s in Chabad literature, for example in Sefer Hasichot (1943, p.154, 187), Kountras Chay Elul, and Kerem Chabad (II, p.100). [20] See also Rav Halevy in Assé Lecha Rav (IV, §26) for whom there is also no problem. [21] Shut Beer Eliyahu (Katz) (II, Y “D §32) writes that, in his opinion, the advantage of the day of circumcision can only concern the first twelve birthdays, but from the Bar Mitzvah and on, it is more logical to celebrate the day he took upon himself to commit to the mitzvos, which is birth. [22] See the Knesset ChaChmei Israel – kountras 3 – §115, 1 for which only birthdays of 60 and 70 deserve attention, but not the following ones. [23] see Afarkasta Deania (I, §123) who is surprised about it because it seems to be against his father’s position. In fact, the Chatam Sofer states (Torat Moshe, Vayera, Bereshit XXI, 8) that Avraham used to celebrate every year on his son Yitzchak’s circumcision day – not his birthday. [24] This rationale is rejected by the Tshuva Meahava for whom the Chavot Yair is not absurd (when advocating the shehechiyanu blessing in other occasion than those of takanat chazal) because, as the Bach(où, O.C 225 ?) writes, it is a bracha that has been instituted on man’s joy (and not only on the precise situations listed by chazal.
The Komarno Rebbe (Chulchan Hatahor §223, 7) sides with the Chavot Yair and indicates – at odds with all the poskim listed- to recite the bracha (he often has marginal positions in this book).
See also Rav Shlomo Tzvi Shik (Shout Rashban I, §61). According to whom, Chavot Yaïr does not hold one should recite shehechiyanu (!), but he personally thinks we should. [25] Hard to know who to trust when the two are also contradicted by Rav Shlomo Zalman Bloch who, when he heard that the Chafetz Chaim would have given a small snack for his 70th birthday, exclaimed : “Sheker Gomur! Dos iz nit kein arbeit far Chofetz Chaim, s’iz nit a yiddishe weg!” (Hatzadik R. Shlomo, p.29, ot 18). In other words, according to him, it is absolutely impossible for the Chafetz Chaim to do so, because it is not “Jewish” to celebrate his birthday … (see Or Israel 24, p.193 note 103). [26] see Shut Rashban I, §61 where Rav Shik wrote to him that he learned from his son (the son of rav Goldberger) that his father (rav Michael Goldberger) was about to celebrate his 70th birthday and according to him (rav Shik) it would be appropriate to recite Shehechyanu, and that he himself, if he was able to attend, would have recited it (because of Haroe et chavero achar 30 yom) as well as shechalak MeChoChmato liyereav (which is recited at the sight of a great sage in Torah). [27] To celebrate the 70th years of a Tzadik is noble and desirable according to the Chesed LeAvraham (Brudno) (volume 2, pticha, p.6 §4)
We also find the idea of rejoicing on the birthday -at least a tzadik’s one- in the Midrash Tanchuma (Pekoudei XI) which states that G-d wished to mix the joy of the Mishkan with the joy of the birthday of Yitzchak (the 1st Nissan).
See also Tosfot and Rosh (Nazir 14a) explaining there is a doubt arising when someone says “I will be as Moshe the 7th adar” (is he Nazir or not?) because this person might allude to Moshe’s death a sad day when mourners engage in a Nezirut, or he alludes Moshe’s birthday a day of celebration and joy …
Still on the subject of celebrating important people birthdays, it seems (from see Oshea (VII, 5) “yom malkenou” and Metzudas David, ad loc) that contrary to what Rav Fraenkel writes in his Labar-mitzvah Encyclopedia (p.217), Jews did celebrate their kings’ birthdays, who explains that this is the birthday of the king and there was a feast. However, Malbim (ad loc) explains otherwise. [28] In yeshivos, the custom is to “have a mishmar”, i.e to study all the night of the 20 years anniversary. [29] If we do not find one (we are a great tzaddik or we do not understand the concept), we can always work on acquiring a ” Jewish spirit “. In fact, it is sometimes thought that doing all the mitzvot makes us a good Jew, but the truth is that we can do lots of mitzvot, pray three times a day, put on tfilin and tzitzit, keep Shabbat, eat strictly kosher etc. … and yet … being far from a true Judaism.
The Piaseczner Rebbe, R. Kalmish Shapiro (killed by the Nazis in Trawniki camp on 4th Heshvan 1943 after being deported from the Warsaw Ghetto in April 1943 following the insurrection), had a diary in which he wrote on his 40th birthday (19 Iyar 1929) that he should take a commitment on himself, but that he does not know what to take as “kabala” this year, “to study more? it seems to me that I’m not wasting a moment in my schedule; stay away from Taavos ? Baruch Hashem I am not dependent on any material Taava ; so what do I lack ? What I lack … is being “a Jew”! I feel like a human form, with its colors and shapes etc. to which only one thing is missing: the Neshama! Master of the world! … This is what I wish for this year (from now on), I want to convert and become a Jew! “(Quoted in Mimaayanot Hanetsach p.294). [30] However, in the Shut Afarkasta Deania (§123), he quotes the Chatam Sofer as being opposed to choosing the birthday rather than circumcision day (see on this subject Or Israel 49, p.142, note 46). [31] But Zichron Shlomo (Jerusalem 1994, p.219) emphasizes that according to the idea that birthdays are days of good Mazal (as mentioned in the first part), as it is related to the stars (mazalot), one must follow the solar/civil calendar ! But more on this (which date someone should celebrate) in a future post.