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Correction and Apology For an Earlier Post

Correction and Apology For an Earlier Post

A few months back we featured a fascinating two-part post about newly discovered documents from Rav Herzog’s Archive.

One of the discoveries of the post was a document about Meir Kahane written to President Chaim Herzog by Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik in the summer of 1984 which was surprisingly supportive of Kahane.

A careful examination of the document by the family of Rabbi Soloveitchik reached the opposite conclusion. This letter is a crude forgery. Their conclusion was not derived because they disagree with the opinions expressed in it nor because they know that the Rav would never have expressed such opinions, but because of many characteristics of the signature such as misspelled name, the firm handwriting from the hand of a man suffering from Parkinson’s (comparing it to other autographs of the Rav from even earlier dates and the difference is immense), title and reference of his own father etc. It is simply an egregious forgery.

We apologize to our readers for posting and thereby disseminating this false piece of information.

Seforim Blog Editors.




On the Times Commonly Presented for Birkat HaL’vana: Part 2

On the Times Commonly Presented for Birkat HaL’vana: Part 2

By Avi Grossman

Continued from here

The Truth About The Beth Yosef’s Position

A while ago I received this from a disputant (I have not edited any of his writing):

In the Shulkhan Arukh (chapter 426 paragraph 3) it was ruled that one has to wait till seven days have passed, and the Rema did not override the halachik ruling of the Mechaber (the Shulkhan Arukh). Therefore this is the basic core law for Sepharadim and Ashkenasim alike. However, there is an Ashkenasi minhag to make the Kiddush Levana blessing after only three days. This minhag being based on the Gr”A (the Gaon miVilna) as brought down by the Mishna Brura in se’if katan (clause) 20. This minhag has on what to be based, however less than three days, is not the minhag at all. Nevertheless, if bedi’avad (if someone has not done according to the aforementioned minhag, and already has done otherwise i.e. less than three days), if the person made the blessing of Kiddush Levana, Rav Nevensal writes (in his commentary on the Mishna Brura in the name of Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach) that he accomplished the mitzva of Kiddush Levana and his blessing was not a brakha levatala, ( a blessing in vain.) This is also understood from the Shar haTziyun.

I have omitted his subsequent attack on my credentials and character. I also believe, that he has made a number of errors:

1. The Beth Yosef’s actual opinion is not as he represented it. 2. His method of discerning the Rema’s opinion is faulty. 3. He does not allow for the numerous times wherein the halacha and the common practice simply do not follow either the Rema or the Beth Yosef.[1] 4. Especially in Israel, there are many groups, usually those associated with Religious Zionism and inspired by the teachings of the Vilna Gaon, that seek to reintroduce the ancients’ practices as described by Hazal, and do not automatically accept later positions that contradict the classic understanding of Hazal. There are too many aspects of Jewish law that are also not even covered by the rulings of the Beth Yosef and the Rema.

I would now like to attempt to show what the Beth Yosef believed. Rabbi Yosef Karo was aware that the halacha, as stated by the Talmud and understood by the rishonim, was that birkat hal’vana should ideally be recited on the first of the month. In his commentary to Maimonides’s explicit ruling that birkat hal’vana be recited on Rosh Hodesh, he even cites the source for this rule. Moreover, Maimonides formulation is taken verbatim from the Yerushalmi in Berachoth 9:2, which also clearly means that the time for the blessing is Rosh Hodesh. The Beth Yosef then has much to say (a few paragraphs’ worth) about the Tur’s formulation of the relevant halachot, and finishes with one line about a much later, kabbalistic, non-talmudic opinion that the blessing should be delayed until seven days after the molad. It is impossible to properly understand his intent in the Shulhan Aruch before reading his longer dissertations in the Beth Yosef, and when we analyze the style he used to present many other halachot in the Shulhan Aruch, we see that when Rabbi Karo actually subscribes to a (usually kabbalistic) position that was explicated later in history as opposed to an earlier explicated halacha, he simply records that later opinion without mentioning the earlier differing opinions, or he may make mention of them and then dismiss them.

In order to see this most clearly one should read the actual text of the Shulhan Aruch as Rabbi Karo himself wrote it, without the interjections of the Rema. A good example is the laws of t’filln. In Orah Hayim 31:2 he writes straight out that it is forbidden to wear t’fillin on Hol Hamoed. This is the kabbalistic opinion, and he does not mention at all the opinion prevalent among the rishonim that t’fililn are meant to be worn on Hol Hamoed, because he dismissed it, and one cannot claim that he was honestly unaware of such an opinion, because in both his commentary to the Tur and the Mishneh Torah, he wrote about that opinion and its sources in the Talmud, and even explained why he rejected it despite the fact that it had been the near universal practice for centuries before him. (See here for more examples.)

However, with regards to the blessing on the new moon, Orah Hayim 426:1, he first states the straight halacha as recorded by the Talmud and the early commentators that one who sees the moon in its renewal blesses…” and as he wrote in his earlier works, this was always understood to be ideally at the very beginning of the month. It is only in 426:2 that he brings the custom to wait until Saturday night, and in 426:4 he mentions to wait until after seven days. These three rules are all in conflict with each other. Which is it? The first of the month? Saturday night a few days in to the month, or a week after the beginning of the month?

The answer is that he presents the straight law as understood and received by generations, and then alternate practices that each have their own merit, but which do not and cannot trump the original rule. This is made clear when you also read what he wrote in 426:3, before mentioning the seven-day rule: the last time for saying the blessing is the fifteenth of the month. This shows that in 426:1 and 3 he defines the blessing’s set time as ordained by the sages and as to be followed, and only at the end does he mention an optional practice that does not readily fit the enactment. More importantly, if you look even more closely at the exact wording of the Shulhan Aruch you see that 426:2 and 426:4 are not discussing the precise ordained time for the blessing, but rather different issues entirely.

For our reference, here is the full text of Orah Hayim 426 without the Rema and further commentaries:

. א. הרואה לבנה בחדושה מברך אשר במאמרו ברא שחקים וכו‘.

ב. אין מברכין על הירח אלא במוצאי שבת כשהוא מבושם ובגדיו נאים ומיישר רגליו ותולה עיניו ומברך ואומר שלש פעמים סימן טוב תהיה לכל ישראל ברוך יוצרך וכו’.

ג. עד אימתי מברכין עליה עד טז מיום המולד ולא טז בכלל.

ד. אין מברכין עליה עד שיעברו שבעת ימים עליה.

A. One who sees the moon in its renewal blesses, “…Who hast through His speech created the heavens…”

B. We do not recite the blessing upon the moon unless it is the night after the Sabbath, when the reciter is perfumed and his clothes nice. He should raise his eyes high and stand straight, and bless. He should recite three times, a good omen, blessed be, etc.”

C. Until when may he recite the blessing? Up until but not including the 16th day from the molad.

D. We do not recite the blessing upon [the moon] until seven days have passed on it.

And now for a brief point about an expression used here twice, which I emboldened in both the Hebrew and English. Our heroes have said the following, each in its own context:

אין שמחה אלא בבשר ויין

אין שמחה אלא תורה

אין שמחה כהתרת ספקות

אין שמחה גדולה ומפוארת לפני הקב״ה אלא לשמח לב עניים

Literally translated, each of these begins with happiness is nothing but”, and each end differently. Respectively: meat and wine, Torah, resolution of doubts, and gladdening the hearts of the poor. How can these all be true? How can there be four ultimate forms of happiness? The answer is that this is the sages’ way of saying that with regard to a particular situation, there is something that can give someone the best feeling. When it comes to celebrating on a festival, the best way is to have a meal with meat and wine. With regards to achieving a sublime intellectual high, there is nothing like Torah study. With regards to feeling the joy of relief, there is nothing like resolving lingering doubts. With regards to doing something good for others, there is nothing greater than picking up those who are down. There is no contradiction.

Now, we can fully understand how to read the four rules of the Shulhan Aruch: The first rule tells us to say the blessing on the moon, and as we saw before, the running assumption of the rishonim and logic is that the first time is right at the beginning of the month. So too, the fact that the Shulhan Aruch places this chapter within the laws of Rosh Hodesh and then says in the third rule that there is a deadline, the assumption, and the only way the first rule can be understood, is that one may start to do recite birkat hal’vana when the month starts. Also, the Shulhan Aruch uses the same exact language as the Yerushalmi and Maimonides did to describe saying the blessing at the first sighting of the new moon, and the Shulhan Aruch has already shown us elsewhere that he knows the implication of using that language. The first and third rules thus form a pair, defining when to say this blessing. The second rule, which mentions Saturday night, is not contradictory, nor does it modify the objective time for saying the blessing. Rather, from the facts that a. it begins with that rabbinical term of speech einella…” and b. it then explains that it is so that he will be in a proper state of dress, it is telling us the proper mode of reciting this blessing. Dress nicely, smell good, stand straight, and take a good look at the moon. Consider this: Saturday night is not objectively the best time for saying this blessing which should be timed with the new moon regardless of the day of the week, as Rabbeinu Yona pointed out above, but rather it happens to be the time when one is still clean and wearing his Sabbath clothes, implying that if it were Saturday night and he were filthy, he gains nothing by reciting the blessing then, but if it were, say, Thursday night and he has just dressed up in a tuxedo in order to go meet an important personage, he should say the blessing on the moon if the opportunity presents itself. The subsequent gloss of the Rema also shows that this statement of the Beth Yosef is not a hard and fast rule about the timing of blessing. The way the third rule is introduced, it is Rabbi Karo’s way of saying the best way to perform this commandment, the most gevaldikke way, is to do it like this…” More so, we can now understand why for many authorities (including Maimonides and the Vilna Gaon) the entire discussion of birkat hal’vana in Massechet Sof’rim did not enter their halachic calculus. In the context of the chapters preceding it, Massechet Sof’rim is not making a straightforward halachic statement about the halachic timing of the blessing, but rather about the manner in which it was ritually performed. Finally, the fourth rule also begins with that terminology, ein… ad…” (the ad replaces ella because ella is used to describe things not defined by time, like gladdening and eating, whereas ad describes a period of time) because, once again, it is Rabbi Karo’s way of saying, al pi qabbala, the most awesome way to perform this commandment for those who are mystically inclined and on a high enough level is to…”

Therefore, Rabbi Yosef Karo did not rule against saying the blessing on the new moon on Rosh Hodesh, nor did he rule that it may only be recited after seven days from the molad. It is clear that our master’s writings mean that the blessing was meant to be said on Rosh Hodesh, and that there are two conflicting middat-hasidut practices to delay it, and most of the time it is impossible to satisfy both if understood literally, and, as I have shown, the first of those practices is less about when to say the blessing and more about how to say the blessing, and the second is not halacha for the masses. I have written this to defend what he really said, and how his words have been twisted by those who came later, because there is a common claim made that his opinion was to delay the blessing until seven days have passed from the molad under all circumstances, and does not allow for other opinions. The writer above also claimed that this is also the implicit opinion of the Rema (!) and therefore should also be the default practice of all Jews, Ashkenazim and Sephardim alike, to wait until at least a week from the molad in order to recite birkat hal’vana. If our master, the Beth Yosef, had meant as that writer says, he should have written 426:1 thusly:

הרואה הלבנה אחר שעברו עליה שבעה ימים מברך וכו׳

“One who sees the moon after seven days have passed over it blesses…”

thereby combining both 426:1 and 4:26:4 in order to accurately reflect such a purported view, and then we would still be left with the superficial problem of 426:2 adding the practice to wait until Saturday night. But the Beth Yosef did not write the halacha like that because he actually understood the rules as I have presented them here, namely, that he ruled like Maimonides and the sages of old, that the true time for saying birkat hal’vanna is on Rosh Hodesh or as early in the month as possible, and that the seven-day rule is, like he implied in the Beth Yosef, a practice of those who live according to esoteric and uncommon kabbalistic ideas.

Four years after I first wrote this response, I discovered that Rabbi Moshe Elharar of Shlomi in the Northern Galilee has made this point, and has a video online where he declares as much. See here. He maintains that the practice of Moroccan Jewry is and always to recite birkat hal’vana on Rosh Hodesh, if possible.

I also discovered in recent months that there is a school of kabbalistic thought, the Arizal among them, that maintains that al pi qabbala, birkat hal’vana should of course be said on Rosh Hodesh. Indeed, there is a host of modern-day kabbalists and Hasidic rebbes who advocate and maintain this practice. Rabbi Raphael Aharon, a prominent scholar and mekubal from the nearby settlement of Adam has an entire siddur dedicated to birkat hal’vana, Siddur Sim Shalom, and many of these points can be found in his accompanying essays.

Waiting For Exactly Seven 24-Hour Days?

If one were to adopt the mystical practice mentioned by Rabbi Karo, namely to wait seven days to recite birkat hal’vana, Rabbi Karo has already stated that those seven days are a colloquial seven days. This is also the case with regard to many other realms of halacha which deal with groups of days. He dismissed the notion that the final time for the blessing should be calculated me’et l’et, to the second, minute, chelek, or hour. However, just like the Pri M’gadim unilaterally declared that the Rema calculates the first time for the blessing exactly 72 hours after the average molad even though the Rema never even hinted at such a thing (see above), the calendar makers have taken a further step and decided that those seven days mentioned by Rabbi Karo should also be calculated by adding exactly 168 hours from the time of the molad. We can see what may have influenced the Pri M’gadim to make such a claim within the Rema’s opinion, but there is no reason whatsoever for any of us to then extend a possible stringency within the Rema’s opinion to the opinion of the Beth Yosef.

A relevant recent example was Iyar 5775. The announced average molad was early Sunday morning on the 30th of Nisan (April 19, 2015), 1hour, 27 minutes, and 4 chalakim after midnight (6),[2] while the actual molad was a few hours earlier, at 8:57pm Motza’ei Shabbat (April 18, 2015) (7).[3] According to the traditional understanding of the Beth Yosef’s kabbalistic opinions, birkat hal’vana should have been recited the next Motza’ei Shabbat (the night of April 25), the beginning of the 7th of Iyar. Both moladot had occurred on a halachic Sunday, and this Motza’ei Shabbat was already a full week later than both, and it was also a night when many baalei batim would be in attendance at the synagogues, and the moon was clearly at least half full, yet the calendars declared that the it was too early for birkat hal’vana! By their calculations, despite the fact that the moon was already well into its eighth day, the earliest time for birkat hal’vana would only be sometime after midnight, a full 168 hours after the average molad, and at a time shortly after the moon would set that night. Instead, everyone was to have to wait for Sunday night, when attendance in the synagogue would be much less and the chances of cooperative weather would be diminished, thus depriving many unwitting people of the chance to recite the blessing that month.

The calendar makers grossly misrepresent the Beth Yosef’s opinion, and thereby cause many unwitting Jews to miss the proper times for reciting this blessing.

Additional Considerations

In a lecture recently uploaded to yutorah.org, R’ Schachter mentioned the opinion of the P’ri M’gadim (Yoreh Deah 15:2) regarding the eight-day waiting period between an animal’s birth and it becoming fit for sacrifice: the period is calculated as exactly 7 times 24 hours (me’et l’et) after the moment of its birth. R’ Schachter further mentioned that Rabbi Akiva Eiger (ad loc.) takes the P’ri Mgadim to task for this claim, as it contradicts the plain meaning of the relevant Talmudic sources which assume that the eight days are calculated according to the general rule of miqztath hayom k’chullo, that a part of the day is considered the entire day, just like with all the other similar calculations demanded by halacha. This is entirely analogous to he P’ri M’gadim’s opinion regarding birkat hal’vana, which would similarly be rejected by Rabbi Akiva Eiger.

In another lecture, available here, R’ Schachter discussed the issue of two-day Rosh Hodesh in Temple times: On which day of Rosh Hodesh were the additional sacrifices offered? While there is a Talmudic source that assumes that the sacrifices were only brought on one day of Rosh Hodesh, there is also Biblical evidence that even before the Temple was built, Rosh Hodesh was sometimes observed as two days, and even today, it is observed that way about half the time. At about six minutes in, R’ Schachter mentions an answer offered by Rabbi Soloveichik: In Numbers 28, we are bidden to offer the offering of the Sabbath, “olath shabbath b’shabbatto,” which literally means, “the Sabbath burnt offering on its Sabbath,” but which is rendered by Onqelos, “alath shabba tith’aveid b’shabba,” the Sabbath burnt offering should be made on the Sabbath.

Onqelos’s addition clarifies the meaning. However, in the subsequent paragraph describing the Rosh Hodesh offering, we read, “zoth olath hodesh b’hodsho,” literally “this is the [Rosh] Hodesh burnt offering on its Hodesh,” and we would expect Onqelos to render this along the same lines as shabbath b’shabbatto, but he does not. Instead, he abandons a literal translation with a one-word addition, and gives an explanation (which, by the way, is common. Whenever an anthropomorphism is used with regards to God, or whenever the halacha does not fit the literal translation, Onqelos does not translate literally): “da ‘alath reish yarha b’ithkhadathutheh,” which in Hebrew would be “zoth olath rosh yarei’ah b’hiddusho,” or “this is the New Moon burnt offering at the time of [the moon’s] renewal.” Rabbi Soloveichik offered that even if Rosh Hodesh were a two-day event, the special sacrifice of the beginning of the month should only be offered on the day of the renewal, that is, on the day of the two-day Rosh Hodesh that is observed as the renewal of the moon.

Thus, when the Shulhan Aruch (Orah Hayim 426:1) says hal’vana b’hiddusha, “the moon (this time described in the feminine form, l’vana, as opposed to the masculine hodeshyarei’ah, yarha, or molad) in its renewal,” he means it as Rambam and Rashi meant it, on the first day of the month. The hiddush of the moon is by definition Rosh Hodesh.

It should not come as a surprise then that the Hafetz Hayim himself also was aware of this important halacha, and endorsed it. He held that me’iqqar hadin, according to the letter of the law, birkat hal’vana is to be said on Rosh Hodesh, and that although there are other practices to delay the recitation, none of them override the letter of the law. In Mishna B’rura, 426:20, he responds to the Shulhan Aruch’s proposition that we should wait for seven days to pass over the new moon before reciting the blessing, and mentions that “most Aharonim held that it is sufficient for the moon to be three days old for the blessing to be recited,” and for good measure he adds the P’ri M’gadim’s condition that those three days are calculated as exactly three time 24 hours, and then suggests that there is a way to maybe delay the recitation just a little bit more in order to also recite it on Saturday night. But then, he says something that only someone aware of the letter of the law will fully understand: “And some Aharonim, including the Vilna Gaon, are lenient even in this regard, [i.e., waiting about three days for birkat hal’vana], and they hold that it is not worthwhile to delay the commandment in any event, and therefore, one who practices like that certainly has on whom to rely, especially during the winter and the rainy season; certainly someone punctilious and quick to sanctify [the new moon] is praiseworthy.” Here, in no uncertain terms, the Hafetz Hayim champions those who would say birkat hal’vana at the very first opportunity. When, based on all of the available halachic sources, would that be, if not on Rosh Hodesh itself? Indeed, the primary source for this Gloss is the Magen Avraham ad loc., and there the Magen Avraham, explicitly mentions that the primary law is that the blessing is to be recited on Rosh Hodesh.

As an aside, I would like to dispute what R’ Schachter says in the first five minutes, namely why a particular day is Rosh Hodesh. As far as I understood, there are two reasons: when the Sanhedrin is functioning properly, a day is considered Rosh Hodesh when the court declares it to be Rosh Hodesh based on the testimony of valid witnesses who spotted the new moon, and when the Sanhedrin is not functioning, our set calendar considers only the moladoth of each Tishrei to determine days of weeks for Rosh Hashana, and once a particular year’s length is known, the first days of each month are then determined based upon alternating 30-day and 29-day months, with certain exceptions. Most importantly, the moladoth of the months that are not Tishrei have absolutely no bearing on when the individual rashei hodashim are celebrated, and I believe that the misconception was fostered by the new practice of announcing the molad each month, which leads people to believe that it somehow has weight in determining Rosh Hodesh. On the contrary, announcing the molad seems to be a very recent practice,[4] and one that I would argue the Beth Yosef and others would oppose, because it could lead the masses to think that the molad actually matters month to month. For example, many believe (mistakenly) that we announce the molad precisely because it is forbidden to recite birkat hal’vana either 72 or 168 hours have elapsed from that time. Some of the classical decisors may have tolerated this new practice, but they would certainly believe that if, for example, no one had a calendar to reference during the service, the announcing of the molad could be skipped.

* * * * *

Recently, I discovered the life and work of the prolific and tragic Rabbi Moshe Levi, a prize student of Rabbi Meir Mazuz. Lo and behold, in his treatise on the blessings, Birkat Hashem, he lists the prominent authorities, down to the Magen Avraham, who ruled that according to the straight letter of the law, birkat hal’vana should be said on Rosh Hodesh, and he himself rules that way.

This highlights an argument that is applicable elsewhere. It is well-known that the ideal time for the morning prayer is right at sunrise, which is when the morning sacrificial service is supposed to start in the Temple, and this was the practice of the wathiqin of Jerusalem. However, in Orah Hayim 281, the Rema mentions that the practice on Sabbath morning is to arrive at the synagogue later than on weekdays. It cannot mean that people show up later than they would on weekdays just to make sure that the amida prayer still starts at sunrise, because that would entail somehow abridging the recitation of all of the liturgy that precedes the amida, but that is not possible, because the practice is also to recite more psalms before the reading of the sh’ma and to recite a longer version of the blessings that accompany the sh’ma. The Rema is plainly stating that on the Sabbath, the morning service is delayed, and he even cites the explanation that it is based on what sounds like a d’rasha, that the verse that describes the Sabbath offering says that it is offered by day and not by morning. It must be said that the teaching in question is not a true d’rasha. It is not brought by Hazal, it is not followed by the halacha, as even on the Sabbath the morning lamb was offered at sunrise, and even in context, it is referring to the additional lambs brought after the morning lamb. Now, can one reasonably claim that because “the Minhag” is to pray later Sabbath morning, it is therefore wrong for some of us to pray at sunrise? After all, the Rema is fairly clear that that is the minhag. Of course it cannot be, but I dread the day someone will say that. This point was made implicitly by the Mishna B’rura, who pointed out that the assumption of Rashi was that in Talmudic times, the Sabbath morning service was also at sunrise. By giving this veiled reference, he is respectfully disagreeing with the practice endorsed by the Rema. Just because there is a practice to delay the performance of the commandment, it does not mean that the letter of the law may not be followed.

Similarly, there is a practice to delay the evening service the night of Pentecost. Now, it must be said the very idea postdates the Shulhan Aruch and the Rema, but the letter of the law is and always was that any Sabbath or festival can be accepted before the holy day officially starts, and that is considered a very meritorious deed. Can one reasonably claim that because “the Minhag” is to pray later Pentecost evening, it is therefore wrong for some of us to pray before nightfall? After all, the Mishna B’rura is fairly clear that that is “the Minhag.” Of course it cannot be, but I dread the day someone will say that. Just because there is a practice to delay the performance of the commandment, it does not mean that the letter of the law may not be followed. A few years ago I wrote about my surprise that Rav Aviner ruled that it is forbidden for Ashkenazim to begin the prayers before nightfall on Pentecost, thus ruling that that which the Rema did and the rest of the Ashkenazim did for centuries was against halacha.

Lastly, we come to the issue of birkat hal’vana, which, according to the letter of the law, should be on Rosh Hodesh. Can one reasonably claim that because “the Minhag” is to recite it some days later, it is therefore wrong for some us to say it earlier? After all, the printed calendar is fairly clear that that is “the minhag.” Of course it cannot be, but as punishment for my “sins,” I heard many times from those who should have known better that it may not be said earlier, despite the fact that it only takes a few hours of research to find that the letter of the law’s practice is actually endorsed by the sages, and Rashi, and Maimonides, and the Shulhan Aruch, and the Vilna Gaon, and the Mishna B’rura. Just because there is a practice to delay the performance of the commandment, it does not mean that the letter of the law may not be followed. On the contrary, the punctilious seek to perform commandments as soon as possible.

*****

I welcome any further insights on this matter. I hope and pray that reinstitution of the Sanhedrin and the adjustable calendar will lead to many more Jews seeking to find the appearance of the new moon as soon as possible, which in turn will lead to them understanding why the sages ordained a blessing on the phenomenon in the first place.

I would like to thank Rabbi Mordechai Rabinovitch and Rabbi David Bar Hayim for instigating the research that led to this work, Rabbi Herschel Schachter for his feedback on the first draft and Rabbi Moshe Zuriel for his warm encouragement and approbation.

[1] How many of us start to perform forbidden labors after Shabbat but before 72 minutes after sunset? Both the Rema and the Shulhan Aruch summarily prohibit such activity.

[2] Jerusalem Solar Time. According to Jerusalem Daylight Saving Time, it was 2:06am.

[3] 9:57pm according to Daylight Saving Time.

[4] For a comprehensive background to the minhag, see here.




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Two Jewish Temples in Egypt

Two Jewish Temples in Egypt

Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein is the author of the newly-released work God versus Gods: Judaism in the Age of Idolatry (Mosaica Press, 2018). His book follows the narrative of Tanakh and focuses on the stories concerning Avodah Zarah using both traditional and academic sources. It also includes an encyclopedia of all the different types of idolatry mentioned in the Bible. Rabbi Klein studied for over a decade at the premier institutes of the Hareidi world, including Beth Medrash Govoha in Lakewood and Yeshivas Mir in Jerusalem. He authored many articles both in English and Hebrew, and his first book Lashon HaKodesh: History, Holiness, & Hebrew (Mosaica Press, 2014) became an instant classic. His weekly articles on synonyms in the Hebrew language are published in the Jewish Press and Ohrnet. Rabbi Klein lives with his family in Beitar Illit, Israel and can be reached via email to: rabbircklein@gmail.com
 
In this article, we will discuss two different temples which the Jews built in Egypt: the temple at Elephantine, and Chonyo’s Temple. After providing the reader with the historical background to both temples, we will analyze the nature of the worship which took place there, as well as their possible Halachic legitimacy.

The Temple at Elephantine

Ancient papyri found on the Egyptian island Elephantine (יב, Yev in Aramaic) reveal the forgotten story of a Jewish Temple that was built there.
According to those documents, Jews living in Egypt when it was still an independent state built a Temple for Hashem at Elephantine. This occurred after the destruction of the First Temple, but before the construction of the Second Temple. Later, when the Persians conquered Egypt, they destroyed most of its temples,[1] but allowed the Jewish Temple at Elephantine to remain. Sometime afterwards, the priests of the Egyptian deity Khnum and the local Persian rulers colluded against the Jewish community at Elephantine, destroying their Temple and taking the Temple’s gold and silver for themselves.
The Jewish priests of the Elephantine temple, led by a priest named Jedaniah, sent letters appealing to the Persian-appointed Jewish governor of Judah and the Cuthean governate of Samaria to intervene on their behalf, and lobby the Persians for the restoration of their temple. In these letters, the priests of Elephantine repeatedly mentioned that they wished to resume sacrificing meal-offerings, burnt-offerings, and incense (which as we will see seems to be Halachicly problematic). It seems that the Second Temple in Jerusalem had already been built by this time; as the Elephantine priests mentioned in their letter that they had also written to Yochanan, the Kohen Gadol in Jerusalem, but had not received a reply.
The Elephantine Temple was eventually rebuilt, but the Jewish community at Elephantine did not last much longer.[2]

Were the Jews at Elephantine Loyal to Halachah?

The academic consensus views the Jews at Elephantine as practitioners of a syncretistic mixture of Judaism and Egyptian/Aramean idolatrous
cults.
[3] This comes as no surprise, because Jeremiah (Chapter 44) already mentioned that the Jews who remained in Judah after the destruction
of the First Temple and the subsequent assassination of Gedaliah (the Babylonian-appointed Jewish governor over what remained of Judah) migrated to Egypt, where they engaged in idol worship.
[4] As such, the deviant practices of these wayward Jews does not warrant any attempt at justification.[5]
However, some scholars have called this picture into question. In the Ancient Levant, it was standard practice for people to bear personal names
that refer to their gods. Such references to deities within a person’s name is known as a theophoric element. Accordingly, if the Jewish community at Elephantine was truly syncretistic, then we would expect the Jews of that community to incorporate the names of foreign gods into their personal names. But the evidence shows that they did not. Partially because of this lack of idolatrous theophoric elements, some scholars argue that the Jewish community at Elephantine was not idolatrous—rather they remained wholly devoted to Hashem. These scholars explain away alleged allusions to foreign gods at Elephantine as the assimilation of various pagan religious
concepts into their brand Judaism, as opposed to the outright acceptance of pagan deities.[6] Similarly, the Jews at Elephantine may have used Aramean phraseology to refer to Jewish ideas, but they did not adopt Aramean religion.[7]
According to this approach, we must seek out the Halachic justification for offering sacrifices at the temple in Elephantine, a practice which seems to defy the Torah’s ban on sacrifices outside of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. Assuming that the Elephantine Jews were basically loyal to normative Judaism, how did they justify building a temple, complete with sacrifices?
As mentioned previously, it seems that those Jews who built the Temple at Elephantine only did so after the destruction of the First Temple in Jerusalem. Based on this, R. Ephraim Dov ha-Kohen Lapp (1859–1925) proposes that they followed a minority Halachic opinion which maintains that when the First Temple was destroyed, the site in Jerusalem lost it holy status, thus legitimizing the use of private altars.[8] Accordingly, the Temple at Elephantine had the Halachic status of a legitimate private altar. As a result of this status, the Jews at Elephantine only offered voluntary, votive sacrifices such as meal-offerings, burnt-offerings, and incense (as opposed to obligatory sacrifices, like sin-offerings or guilt-offerings). This
is, in fact, in accordance with the Mishnah
[9] that limits the permissible sacrifices at legitimate private altars to exactly such offerings.[10]

Private Altars in the Second Temple Period

Nonetheless, the issue that remains unresolved is why this temple was not discontinued or dismantled upon the construction of the Second Temple. We can possibly resolve this question by comparing the issue of the temple at Elephantine to the issue of private altars in the Kingdom of Judah.
As evident in the Book of Kings, private altars existed in the Kingdom of Judah throughout the First Temple period. There was no systematic
campaign to destroy them until Hezekiah came along. This begs the question: Why did righteous kings of Judah, such as Asa and Jehoshaphat allow these private altars to remain, if sacrifices were only allowed at the Holy Temple in Jerusalem?
R. Moshe Sofer (1762–1839) answers that many of the private altars in question were built before the prohibition of private altars came
into effect (i.e. before the Temple in Jerusalem was built). Therefore, since these private altars were built legitimately, they maintained a certain degree of holiness. Consequently, it was actually
forbidden to destroy them, and this prohibition remained in effect even once using them for ritual purposes became prohibited (i.e., when the Temple was later built). For this reason, even the “good” kings of Judah did not remove the private altars.[11]
Based on this understanding, we can conjecture that a similar approach may have taken hold at the temple in Elephantine. If that temple was
originally built at a time when private altars were permitted (because the First Temple in Jerusalem had already been destroyed), then perhaps some Jews attached a certain degree of holiness to the temple, and refused to dismantle it after the Second Temple in Jerusalem was built. Nonetheless, even if they were justified in allowing the temple at Elephantine to remain standing, there does not seem to be any justification for continuing to offer sacrifices outside of Jerusalem once the Second Temple was built.

The House of Chonyo

The Mishnah[12] mentions another Jewish temple in Egypt—the House of Chonyo (Onias). Chonyo was the son[13] of Shimon the Just, a righteous Kohen Gadol in the Second Temple in Jerusalem. Before his death, Shimon the Just said that his son Chonyo should succeed him as Kohen Gadol.
The Talmud[14] offers two Tannaic accounts of how Chonyo’s temple came about. According to R. Meir, Chonyo’s older brother Shimi became jealous that their father chose Chonyo to succeed him, so he tricked Chonyo into making a mockery of the Temple rituals and angering the other Kohanim. Shimi gave Chonyo “instructions” for his inaugural service by telling him that he was expected to wear a leather blouse and a special belt.
When Chonyo came to the altar wearing those “feminine” articles of clothing, Shimi insinuated to the other Kohanim that Chonyo wore those clothes in order to fulfill a promise to his “lover”.
[15] This raised their ire and they chased him to the Egyptian city of Alexandria,[16] where he established an idolatrous temple.
According to R. Yehudah, the story unfolds differently. Although Shimon the Just advised that his son Chonyo should become the next Kohen Gadol, Chonyo deferred that honor, allowing his older brother Shimi to be appointed instead. Nonetheless, Chonyo became jealous of his older brother, so he devised a plan to embarrass him and deprive him of his office. Chonyo gave Shimi “instructions” for his inaugural service by telling him that he was expected to wear a leather blouse and a special belt. When Shimi came to the altar wearing those “feminine” articles of clothes, Chonyo insinuated to the other Kohanim that Shimi wore those clothes in order to fulfill a promise to his “lover”. When the other Kohanim found out the truth, i.e. that Chonyo had tricked Shimi by giving him incorrect instructions for his inaugural service, they chased Chonyo to Alexandria, where he established a temple for Hashem.[17]
The Talmud concludes this second account by relating that Chonyo justified the establishment of his temple by citing the words of Isaiah,[18] On
that day, there will be an altar for Hashem inside the Land of Egypt, and a single-stone altar to Hashem next to its border
(Isa. 19:19).

Josephus’ Account of the Chonyo Story

Josephus offers a third account of how Chonyo’s temple was established. After the death of Alexander the Great, Greek holdings in the Middle East were divided between the Seleucid kingdom in Syria and the Ptolemaic kingdom in Egypt. A flashpoint of contention between these two rival kingdoms was the Holy Land, and different groups of Jews took different sides in the conflict. When the Seleucid king, Antiochus Epiphanes, led his army to Jerusalem, he violated the Holy Temple and halted the offering of daily sacrifices for three and a half years.
Chonyo, who was the Kohen Gadol in Jerusalem, was a supporter of the rival Ptolemaic kingdom. When the Seleucids came to Jerusalem, he fled to
Egypt. In Egypt, Ptolemy granted Chonyo permission to establish a Jewish community in the district of Heliopolis. There,
[19] Chonyo built a city resembling Jerusalem, along with a temple that resembled the one in Jerusalem. Centuries later, Chonyos’ temple met its eventual demise at the hands of the Romans. After they destroyed the Second Holy Temple in Jerusalem, the Romans ordered the closure of Chonyo’s temple in Egypt, and eventually its destruction.[20]
Josephus seems to attribute noble intentions to Ptolemy. He was said to have sponsored the establishment of a Jewish temple in Egypt so that the
Jews there would have the opportunity to worship Hashem (and would be more willing to help Ptolemy battle the Seleucids). However, in
explaining Chonyo’s rationale for building the temple in Egypt, Josephus reports that Chonyo built it in order to compete with the Temple in Jerusalem and draw Jews away from worshipping Hashem properly. Chonyo had a bone to pick with the Jewish leadership in Jerusalem on account of their rejection of him, which forced him to flee to Egypt.
Josephus also reports that Chonyo rationalized his building of a temple on foreign soil[22] by citing Isaiah’s above-mentioned prophecy.[22]

Chonyo’s Temple in Halacha

As we have seen above, whether or not Chonyo’s temple was idolatrous remains a matter of contention. According to Josephus and R. Meir,
Chonyo sought to worship something other than Hashem. On the other hand, according to R. Yehuda, Chonyo’s temple was established for
the sake of Hashem. If we follow the first view, then there can be no justification for what Chonyo did and the establishment of his idolatrous temple in Egypt. However, if he sought to worship Hashem, then from a Halachic perspective, there may be two ways of looking at Chonyo’s temple: Either his temple was a place of forbidden worship (albeit not quite idolatry in the classical sense of worshipping a foreign deity), or it might have been a completely legitimate place of worship.
Maimonides[23] follows R. Yehuda’s version of events, and explains that Chonyo’s temple was not idolatrous, per se, even though it violated the ban on sacrifices outside of the Temple in Jerusalem. In other words, the practices at Chonyo’s temple reflected an illegitimate way of worshipping Hashem. Maimonides also notes that many local Egyptians—known as Copts—became involved in Chonyo’s temple, and were thus drawn to worshipping Hashem.
The Tosafists[24] disagree with Maimonides’ premise that Chonyo’s temple violated Halacha. Instead, they explain that Chonyo avoided the prohibition of offering sacrifices outside of the Temple in Jerusalem by only offering sacrifices belonging to non-Jews. According to this approach, there was nothing technically wrong with Chonyo’s temple and the services there.

Gentiles Sacrifices outside of Jerusalem

Nonetheless, the commentators grapple over reconciling the Tosafists’ explanation with the opinion of the Tannaic sage R. Yose who maintains that the prohibition of offering sacrifices outside of Temple even extends to sacrifices of non-Jews.[25]
R. Avrohom Chaim Schor (1560–1632)[26] explains that the dispute about whether Chonyo’s temple was legitimate or not centers around whether or not one accepts R. Yose’s view. In other words, R. Meir accepted R. Yose’s view that even a non-Jew’s sacrifices may only be offered in the Holy Temple. As a result of that, R. Meir understood that Chonyo’s temple must have been illegitimate, so he branded the temple idolatrous. In contrast, R. Yehuda rejected R. Yose’s opinion, so he reasoned that there could be Halachic justification for Chonyo’s temple. Because of this, R. Yehuda asserted that Chonyo’s was not idolatrous, but reflected the genuine worship of Hashem, albeit—as the Tosafists explain—specifically for gentiles.
Alternatively, R. Schor proposes that although R. Yose forbids offering the sacrifices of gentiles outside of the Temple in Jerusalem, this prohibition only applies to Jewish priests. Accordingly, R. Yehuda believed that Chonyo and the Jewish priests at his temple did not actually participate in the ritual offerings there. Rather, they offered instructions for the attending gentiles to properly offer sacrifices to Hashem. In this way, no one at Chonyo’s Jewish-run temple ever violated the prohibition against offering sacrifices outside of the Temple in Jerusalem, because they themselves never engaged in such actions, they only helped the gentiles do so.[27]
Others suggest that even R. Yose differentiates between two different types of sacrifices offered by a non-Jew. If a non-Jew consecrated a sacrifice to be brought in the Temple in Jerusalem,[28] then R. Yose would say that this sacrifice may not be offered outside of the Temple in Jerusalem. However, if a non-Jew consecrated a sacrifice without specific intent that it should be offered in Jerusalem, then his offering may Halachically be brought elsewhere. According to this, all opinions agree that a Jew may offer a gentile’s sacrifice outside of the Temple in Jerusalem provided that the gentile did not initially consecrate the sacrifice with intent to bring to Jerusalem.[29] With this in mind, we may justify the services at Chonyo’s temple by explaining that they only offered the sacrifices of non-Jews that were consecrated without specific intent to be offered in Jerusalem.
R. Yehonassan Eyebschuetz (1690–1764) proposes another answer: the Tosafists’ discussion reflects the rejected opinion of the Amoraic sage R. Yitzchok.[30] R. Yitzchok understood that the prohibition of sacrificing outside of the Temple does not apply outside of the Holy Land, thus justifying the existence of Chonyo’s temple which stood in Egypt.[31]
R. Lapp extends this logic to also justify the continued existence of the Jewish temple at Elephantine (mentioned above), even after the construction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem. He argues that in accordance with R. Yitzchok, the entire prohibition of sacrifices outside of the Temple only applies in the Holy Land, not in Egypt.[32]

Egyptian Temples and Eradication of the Idolatrous Inclination

In short, there were two Jewish Temples in Egypt that coexisted with the Second Temple in Jerusalem: the Jewish Temple at Elephantine and Chonyo’s Temple in Alexandria/Heliopolis. We have shown that it is unclear whether or not these temples were idolatrous. If the two Jewish Temples in Egypt were non-idolatrous, then there may be some Halachic justification for their existence.

This, of course, also does not hamper our understanding of the Talmudic assertion that the idolatrous inclination was abolished with the beginning of the Second Temple Era. However, if these Jewish Temples in Egypt were indeed idolatrous, then they pose a challenge to the Talmudic assertions regarding the elimination of the idolatrous inclination.[33]

We shall resolve this difficulty by addressing each temple separately.

The Elephantine Temple seems to have predated the construction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem, and thus the eradication of the idolatrous inclination. As such, the Temple existed before the sages removed the idolatrous inclination. It is not a stretch of the imagination to postulate that even if the idolatrous inclination suddenly ceased to exist, those who already engaged in systematic idolatry beforehand would continue to do so simply out of habit. Once the Elephantine Temple had already been functioning for some time, it would not simply shut down operations overnight because the sages rid the Jews of the idolatrous inclination. There was too much at stake for the priests and other functionaries who profited from the temple.

Regarding Chonyo’s Temple—which certainly did not predate the construction of the Second Temple—even if it was idolatrous, we can argue that it was not the drive for committing idolatry which led to its establishment. Rather, Chonyo’s own ego and pursuit of honor led him to establish a new Temple in Egypt. Those who participated in his cult were merely supporting characters in Chonyo’s own private scheme. In other words, the existence of Chonyo’s idolatrous temple does not contradict the Talmudic statement that the sages had removed the idolatrous inclination, because the idolatrous inclination was not what drove Chonyo’s temple.

To recap, the Idolatrous inclination was not in play at these two temples. At Elephantine, it was the priests’ greed which motivated their continued idol worship and at Chonyo’s temple, it was a personality cult intended to elevate Chonyo which sponsored idolatry.


 

 

[1] The establishment of the Jewish community in Elephantine is uncertain regarding when it happened, although some scholars argue that it predated the destruction of the First Temple. Rabbi Moshe Leib Haberman challenges this assumption, citing the Elephantine Papyri that only reveals that the Jewish settlement was there before Cambyses, but the exact timing is unknown.

[2] Primary sources for the Elephantine Jewish community include B. Porten & A. Yardeni’s Textbook of Aramaic Documents from Ancient Egypt, vol. 1 (1986) and B. Porten’s The Elephantine Papyri in English (1996). Other sources that discuss this community include M.H. Silverman’s “The Religion of the Elephantine Jews—A New Approach” (1973), J.M.P. Smith’s “The Jewish Temple at Elephantine” (1908), and C. Cornell’s “Cult Statuary in the Judean Temple at Yeb” (2016).

[3] The Elephantine Papyri include texts that mention the name of a goddess, Anat-Yahu, which some scholars argue was a syncretistic merge of the Canaanite goddess Anat with Hashem, while others argue that it was wholly an Aramean creation.

[4] J.M.P. Smith suggests that the founders of the Jewish colony at Elephantine were Jews who fled to Egypt instead of remaining in Babylonian-occupied Judah, as called for by Jeremiah.

[5] C. Cornell believes that the Jews in Elephantine worshipped the One Hashem but also held multiple images/idols in their temple, which purported to depict Him in various hypostases.

[6] M.H. Silverman disagrees with the idea that the Jews at Elephantine were entirely idolatrous.

[7] Some scholars suggest that the seemingly idolatrous elements of the Jewish presence at Elephantine were only attempts to evoke Persian sympathy for their cause.

[8] Maimonides rules that the Temple’s site became permanently holy when King Solomon sanctified it, while Raavad disagrees and accepts the opinion that the site was no longer holy after the Temple was destroyed, until it was re-consecrated upon the construction of the Second Temple.

[9] Megillah 1:10 discusses the topic of when the Second Temple was considered to be permanent.

[10] Zivchei Efrayim Al Meseches Zevachim and Responsa Chasam Sofer discuss the question of whether a new site for the Temple would need to be found if the original site was lost.

[11] Responsa Chasam Sofer (Orach Chaim §32). See also R.C. Klein, God versus Gods: Judaism in the Age of Idolatry (Mosaica Press, 2018), pgs. 28–32.
[12] Menachos 13:10.
[13] In Antiquities, Josephus attributes the temple in Egypt to a later Chonyo, who was not the son of Shimon the Just. Nonetheless, some scholars claim that Josephus purposely attributed the establishment of the temple in Egypt to a later Chonyo who had never served as Kohen Gadol in
Jerusalem in order to delegitimize its religious value. See J. E. Taylor, “A Second Temple in Egypt: the Evidence for the Zadokite Temple of Onias,”
Journal for the Study of Judaism vol. 29:3 (1998), pgs. 297–321. Interestingly, R. Yisroel Lipschitz
(1782–1860) in
Tiferes
Yisroel
(Menachos 13:10, Boaz §2)
writes that the Chonyo in discussion was not literally a
son of Shimon the Just, but rather a grandson of Shimon the Just (a son of Shimon’s son Chonyo), accepting
Josephus’s account and adjusting his understanding of the Talmud
accordingly.
[14] TB Menachos 109b.
[15] R. Gershom and Rashi explain that this “lover” was his wife. Maimonides (in his commentary to the Mishnah Menachos
13:10) writes that this “lover” was an alleged mistress.
[16] TB Yoma 38a and JT Shekalim 5:1 relate that the House of Garmu did not wish to reveal the secrets
behind making the shew-bread and the House of Avtinas did not wish to
reveal the secrets behind making the incense for the Temple. In
response, artisans from Alexandria were imported to try and mimic
those secret recipes, but they were unsuccessful in exactly copying
what those families had been able to make. Both R. Yosef Shaul
Nathansohn (1808–1875) in
Divrei Shaul (to TB Yoma
38a) and R. Shalom Massas (1909–2003) in
ve-Cham
ha-Shemesh

(Jerusalem, 2003) pp. 326–327 independently draw an explicit
connection these Alexandrian artisans to Chonyo’s Temple in
Alexandria, although no other authorities do so. The notion of
Alexandrian artisans being unable to exactly replicate something from
Jerusalem is also found in Targum to Est. 1, which relates that
Achashverosh wished to create a replica of King Solomon’s famed
throne, and employed Alexandrian artisans to do so—but to no avail.
That story must have transpired before the establishment of Chonyo’s
Temple in Alexandria because Achashverosh lived before the
construction of the Second Temple. In light of this, we may suggest
that Alexandrian artisans were employed in all cases simply because
Greek Alexandria was a center of knowledge in its time, so the most
knowledgeable craftspeople lived there.
[17] The Jerusalem Talmud (JT Yoma 6:3) slightly differs in its retelling of this discussion. Whilst in
the Babylonian Talmud, the names of the two rival sons of Shimon the
Just are Chonyo and Shimi, in the Jerusalem Talmud, they are
Nechunyon and Shimon. However, R. Tanchum ha-Yerushalmi (a 13
th
century Egyptian Rabbi) writes that Chonyo had two names, Chonyo and
Nechunyo; see B. Toledano (ed.),
ha-Madrich
ha-Maspik
(Tel Aviv, 1961), pg. 154.
Furthermore, according to the Babylonian Talmud, R. Meir believed that Chonyo was
the victim of Shimi’s deceit and ended up establishing a temple for
idolatry, while R. Yehuda believed that Chonyo tricked Shimi, and
ended up fleeing for fear of Kohanic retribution and established a
temple for Hashem. The Jerusalem Talmud echoes the dispute in the
Babylonian Talmud regarding the
story
of Chonyo, but differs in the conclusions. According to the Jerusalem
Talmud, R. Meir understood that Chonyo’s Temple was for Hashem,
while R. Yehuda understood that it was for idolatry. See also
Piskei
ha-Rid
(to TB Menachos 109b)
who copies the entire story as related by R. Meir, but concludes that
Chonyo’s intent was to establish a temple for Hashem—not for
idolatry—in line with the Jerusalem Talmud.
[18] See Isa. 19:18 which calls this Egyptian place Ir
ha-Heres
(עיר ההרס, the city of destruction), which the Talmud (TB Menachos 110a) translates as Karta
de-Beis Shemesh
(קרתא דבית שמש, city of the House of the Sun, i.e. Heliopolis). Indeed, deviant
versions of the Bible (such as the Septuagint and the Dead Sea Scroll
1QIsa3) insert this tradition into the text and read
Ir
ha-Cheres
(עיר החרס, the city of the sun), instead of Ir ha-Heres.
[19] As we saw above, the Talmud locates Chonyo’s temple at Alexandria,
which is quite distant from Heliopolis. We can reconcile this
discrepancy between the Talmud and Josephus by noting that the term
“Alexandria of Egypt” used by the Talmud does not necessarily
refer just to the Egyptian city of Alexandria, but to the entirety of
Egypt; see R. Ulmer,
Egyptian
Cultural Icons in Midrash
(Berlin/Boston:
Walter de Gruyter, 2009), pg. 210 and A. Kasher,
The
Jews in Hellenistic and Roman Egypt: The Struggle for Equal Rights
(Tubingen: Mohr, 1985), pg. 347.
R. Last, “Onias IV and the ἀδέσποτος ἱερός: Placing Antiquities 13.62–72 into the Context of Ptolemaic Land Tenure,” Journal for the Study of Judaism vol. 41 (2010), pgs. 494–516 makes the case that Ptolemey
originally granted Chonyo land in Alexandria for the construction of
the temple, but Chonyo later appropriated other, ownerless lands near
Heliopolis upon which he built his temple.
[20] Josephus concludes with a note that Chonyo’s temple lasted 343 years, although some argue that this figure is exaggerated by close to a
century; see S. G. Rosenberg, “Onias, Temple of.,”
Encyclopedia Judaica 2nd ed. vol. 15 (Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA, 2007), pg. 432. R.
Yisroel Lipschitz writes in
Tiferes Yisroel (Menachos 13:10, Yachin§57) that Chonyo’s temple lasted close to 250 years.
[21] Ibn Yachya in Shalsheles ha-Kabbalah (Jerusalem, 1962), pg. 49 writes that after Chonyo built his temple in Egypt, he later built another temple at Mount Gerizim with the help of the Samaritans. An observation of noted Bible scholar Emanuel Tov accentuates the affinity between these two renegade Jewish cults (i.e. the Alexandrian/Egyptian sect and the Samaritans). Tov
categorizes witnesses of textual variations in the Torah by
essentially dividing them into two blocks: The Masoretic Text (which
Tov admits was the original) and the Septuagint/Samaritan block
(which was derived from the MT, but splinters off into other
directions). By using this mode of classification, Tov recognizes a
certain shared affinity, or perhaps even correspondence, between
these non-mainstream Jewish sects which existed in the Second Temple
period. See E. Tov, “The Development of the Text of the Torah in
Two Major Text Blocks,”
Textus
vol. 26 (2016), pgs. 1–27.
[22] The War of the Jews (Book I, Chapter 1 and Book VII, Chapter 10) and Antiquities
of the Jews
(Book XII, Chapter 9 and Book XIII, Chapter 3).
[23] In his commentary to the Mishnah Menachos 13:10.
[24] To TB Menachos 109b.
[25] Cited in TB Zevachim 45a.
[26] Tzon Kodashim to TB Menachos 109b.
[27] This explanation is also proposed by Sfas Emes (to TB Menachos 109b).
[28] The Mishnah (Shekalim 1:5) rules that the Temple can only accept from non-Jews votive sacrifices, but not what are otherwise considered obligatory offerings.
[29] See Mikdash David (Kodshim §27:9), written by R. David Rappaport (1890–1941), Even ha-Azel (Laws of Maaseh ha-Korbanos 19:7), by R. Isser Zalman Meltzer (1870–1953), and Sefer ha-Mitzvos le-Rasag vol. 2 (Warsaw, 1914), pg. 233b, by R. Yerucham Fishel Perlow
(1846–1934).
[30] See TB Megilla 10a.
[31] Yaaros Dvash (vol. 1, drush #9).
[32] Zivchei Efrayim Al Meseches Zevachim (Piotrków, 1922), pgs. 5–7.
[33] For a fuller discussion of this Talmudic assertion, see R.C. Klein, God versus Gods: Judasim in the Age of Idolatry
(Mosaica Press, 2018), pp. 244–276.



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Kabbala, Halakha and Kugel: The Case of the Two Handed Blessing

Kabbala, Halakha and Kugel:  The Case of the Two Handed Blessing*
          In parshat Vayehi, Yaakov simultaneously blesses his two grandchildren, Ephraim and Menashe by placing one hand upon each of their heads.  Today, there is a widespread custom of blessing one own’s children on Friday night (although some only do it on the eve of Yom Kippur).  This custom most likely originated with the Hasedi Ashkenaz in the 14th century but quickly spread to the rest of Europe, including France, Spain, and Italy.[1]  The exact details of the blessing, however, are subject to some variation. 
            The earliest sources mention only the priestly blessing and not Yaakov’s.[2] It was not until the 18th century, R. Yaakov Emden propose the specific usage of Yaakov’s blessing to his grandsons “God shall make you like Ephraim and Menashe.”   Likewise, even within those sources they are inconsistent as to whether both hands are to be used or only one.  Some provide that one hand should be used because it has 15 joints the same number of words as in the priestly blessing, while others urge two hands because they contain 60 bones which corresponds to the word “סמך” “somekh” “to lay hands” to be read as the letter “סמ״ך” “samach” and correspond to the numerical value of sixty rather than the literal translation equaling the number of letters in Birkat Kohanim. These sources disagree because of the symbolic nature of the hands vis-à-vis the blessing.
The anonymous book, Hemdat Yamim, states that one should only use the right hand to bless.  Likewise, R. Yitzhak Lampronti records that some refrain from using two hands to avoid “mixing hesed with din” corresponding to the right and left hands respectively.  But he rejects that and he used both hands.
R. Emden firmly rejects the idea of singlehanded blessings.  He explains that Moshe and others used two.  Yaakov was but an exception as he wanted to bless both of his grandsons simultaneously because he was already changing the order and wanted to minimize, as much as possible, the differences between the two.  Further blessing the younger before the older would be an unforgivable insult. Thus, this was a special case where he was compelled to use one hand.[3]    But in the late 19th century, a one handed blessing was suggested because of halakhic reasons.
            In 1779, R. Yehezkel Landau was born in Vilna.  In 1793 he married his cousin, the daughter of Tzvi Hirsch and Mushka Zalkind, Haye Sorah.[4]  Unexpectedly, an event surrounding Landau’s wedding would become a touchstone for birkat ha-banim. 
            R. Landau was among those who were privileged to study with the Gaon and received his particular form of learning that eschewed pilpul and focused on peshat.[5]  Additionally, R. Landau considered himself a talmid muvhak of and prayed in the same synagogue as R. Hayyim Volozhin.[6] That synagogue, the Parnes Kloyz, also claimed a number of other important members including R. Avraham Abele Poswoler, R. Landau’s brother-in-law.[7]  With the death of R. Abele in 1806 R. Landau took over the position as Rosh Av bet Din of Vilna.[8]  The position was first offered to R. Akiva Eiger but he turned it down.[9]  R. Landau held that position until his death in 1870.
            Until this point the discussion regarding whether to use two hands or one is limited to symbolic or kabalistic reasons.  But there are those who argue that there is a legal issue with using two hands and they attribute this view to the Gaon.  Determining the Gaon’s practices is a very difficult task, he did not write a book of customs and instead most of what we have is from second hand or third hand sources, many of which are contradictory or unsupportable.[10] 
            Close to one hundred years after the Gaon died, the siddur, Siddur ha-Gaon be-Nigleh u-Nistar, was published by Naftali Hertz, and for the first time it is recorded that the Gaon only used one hand for a blessing.  The source for this practice is unclear.  The “Nigleh” portion is generally taken from Ma’ashe Rav and Likutei Dinim meha-Gra, neither of which records this practice. 
            R. Barukh ha-Levi Epstein, however, records a story about that Gaon that is related to the prohibition of a non-kohen reciting the priestly blessings in the synagogue.  In Epstein’s commentary on the Torah, Torah Temimah, he posits a novel ruling that not only is a non-kohen prohibited from blessing the congregation but is prohibited from ever using two hands – like the priests – to bless anyone.  According to Epstein, such a practice would violate a biblical commandment. But he wanted to address as to why he is the first to raise this issue and rather than concede that he is the source of this innovative ruling he records a story from “a trustworthy source” that “when the Gaon of Vilna blessed R. Yehezkel Landau the Moreh Tzedek of Vilna at his huppa, the Gaon only placed one hand on R. Landau’s head during the blessing.  Those present asked the Gaon to explain his practice and he replied that only the priests in the temple can use two hands.”[11]  Thus, R. Epstein is able to “toleh atsmo be-ilan gadol” (one should hang themselves on a big tree).
            Indeed, R. Epstein’s version of the Gaon’s position is still accepted today. Two siddurim that were recently published based upon the Gaon’s practices both record that it was his opinion that one must only use one hand because “only the priests in the temple were permitted to use two hands.”  Both cite R. Epstein as their source.[12] 
            That R. Landua received the Gaon’s blessing is attested to on his epithet.
 “חן הוצק בשפתיך כי גברה עליך ברכת אליהו גאון ישראל.”
“Grace was placed upon his lips because he was overtaken by the blessing of Eliyahu Gaon of Israel.”[13]  Nonetheless, the exact details of that blessing are not as clear.  Indeed, the details of R. Epstein’s version that was transmitted by a “trustworthy source” seem somewhat suspect. First, R. Landau would not have been referred to as a מו״ץ because he oversaw the entire bet din system in Vilna and controlled all of the moreh tzedeks.  Hence R. Landau was referred to as Rosh Av Bet Din “Ravad” or ראב״ד.[14]  Second, the Gaon was not known for getting out much.  He no longer studied at all in what was known as the Gaon’s kloyz that was located in the Great Synagogue Courtyard (shulhoyf) but studied in the same house he lived in, a location known as the Slutzki building.[15]  While R. Landau was well-regarded none of the other histories of Vilna that discuss R. Landau and mention the he studied with the Gaon or the Gaon’s blessing also include the Gaon’s attendance at the wedding.[16]  Finally, the Gaon’s commentary to Shulchan Orakh does not mention any issue with a non-kohen using two hands, nor does it appear in any of the books collecting the Gaon’s customs.[17] 
While admittedly none of the above issues are dispostive, there is a far better reason to discount R. Epstein’s version because there is a more reliable alternative version of the story that R. Epstein records, and according to this version, there is nothing to suggest that the Gaon deliberately avoided using two hands nor that there is any reason to do so.  Indeed, stories that are attributed to the Gaon are notoriously unreliable. Already with the first “biography” of the Gaon, R. Dovid Luria cautioned that “the greatness of my teacher, Rabbenu ha-Gadol z’l [ha-Gaon] is such that there are many stories and legends attesting to that greatness there are as many variations, embellishments and deficiencies in every story.”  In this instance, however, we have the benefit of hearing the story directly from the protagonist, R. Landau.
R. Ben-Tzion Alfes
Ben-Tzion Alfes was born in Vilna in 1851 and when he was a young boy spent time in the Gaon’s Kloyz and met R. Landau.  Alfes records in his autobiography that “R. Landau recalled that the Shabbat after he was married, his father-in-law brought him to the Gaon to receive a blessing.  When he arrived the Gaon was in the middle of his lunch meal, eating kugel.[18]  R. Landau was wearing the new fur hat he received for his wedding and when the Gaon went to place his hands on R. Landau’s head, he turned away so that the Gaon wouldn’t dirty the fur hat with his greasy hands.  The Gaon ended up just putting one hand on the hat and blessed R. Landau.  R. Landau lived very long, over ninety and never required eyeglasses, and for the rest of his life he was disappointed regarding his small mindedness of valuing the hat more than the hands of the Gaon.”[19] 
כשהייתי בן עשר דרנו בחדר אצל אחד שהיה לו סבא זקן שהיה מכיר את הגאון רבנו אליהו מווילנא זצ”ל, ונהניתי מאד בשעה שאבי ז”ל ישב אצלו לשמוע ספורים מהגר”א, וכאשר אחרי נשואי קבעתי מקומי ללמוד ולהתפלל בקלויז הגר”א, הכרתי שם זקן אחד שהיה חתן הגאון ר’ אברהם (בעל מעלות התורה) אחי הגר”א, וכן הכרתי את הגאון ר’ יחזקאל לנדא אב”ד דווילנא שכאשר נעשה חתן הביא אותו מחותנו בשבת לפני הגר”א שיברך אותו, והגר”א ז”ל ישב בסעודה שניה של שבת ואכל את הקוגל, והחתן היה מלובש בשטריימיל ורצה הגאון להניח ידיו על ראש החתן לברכו ונסוג החתן לאחוריו שלא ישמין הגאון את השטריימיל בידיו השמנות מהפשטידא, והניח הגר”א ידו אחת על השטריימיל וברכו, והאריך ימים ולמד עד יומו האחרון בלי משקפים, והצטער רבי יחזקאל לנדא כל ימיו, על קטנות המוח שלו שהוקיר את השטריימיל יותר מידיו של הגר”א
According to R. Landau it was his own fault that the Gaon only used one hand and it had nothing to do with symbolism, kabbala and certainly not because of a halakhic concern.  It came down to kugel and fur hats.[20] 
* A different version of this article previously appeared in Or HaMizrach in Hebrew. Dan Rabinowitz, “Birkat ha-Banim be-Sheti Yadim:  Mesoret ha-Gra be-Nedon,” Or HaMizrach 51, 3-4 (2006), 181-85.  Additionally, Professor Daniel Sperber modified and added additional materials to it for Bar Ilan’s Shabbat Torah pamphlet.  Daniel Sperber, “Al Birkat ha-Banim,” Daf Shevoei (University Bar Ilan) Parshat Vehi, 2008, no. 735.
[1] See Yecheil Goldhaver, Be’er Sheva, in Bunim Yoel Tevesig, Minhagei ha-Kehilot (Jerusalem:  Le’or, 2005), 186-89.  See also, Shmuel Ashkenazi, Alpa Beta Kadmeta (Jerusalem, 2010), 207-09.
[2] R. Eliyahu Dovid Rabinowich Toemim, however, incorrectly asserts that the priestly blessing was not part of the blessing of the children.  Instead, he suggests that since the inception of the custom on Yaakov’s blessing was used.  Eliyahu Dovid Rabinowich Teomim, Shu”t Ma’aneh Eliyahu (Jerusalem:  Yeshiva Har Etzion, 2003), no. 122, 349.
[3] Hemdat Yamim, (Venice, 1812), Helek Shabbat, chapter 7, 48; Yitzhak Lamporti, Pahad Yitzhak  ha-Shalem (Jerusalem, 1998), ma’arekhet ha”Bet,” 52; Yaakov Emden, Siddur Ya’avetz (Jerusalem, 1992), 564-65. See Goldhaver who provides many of these sources and the additions of Eliezer Brodt in Yerushatanu 2 (2008), 205-206 (Eliezer also kindly provided additional sources for this post).  For an example of a death bed blessing see Michel Hakohen Brever, Zikhronot Av u-Beno (Jerusalem:  Mossad Harav Kook, 1966) 122
[4] The Zalkinds would later establish a kloyz, with a women’s section, that was alternatively referred to by Reb Herschel Zalkinds Kloyz and perhaps more notably by his wife’s name:  Mushke Leybele Zalkinds kloyz.  The kloyz is no longer extant but was located in Vilna’s Old Jewish quarter on what is today Šv. Mikalojaus Street.   Synagogues in Lithuania, N-Z: A Catalogue, eds. Aliza Cohen-Mushlin, Sergey Kravtsov, Vladimir Levin, et.al. (Vilnius:  Vilnius Academy of Arts Press, 2012) 312.
[5] Shmuel Yosef Fuenn, Kenest Yisrael:  Zikhronot le-Toldot Gedolei Yisrael ha-No’adim le-shem be-Torotum, be-Hokhatum, ube-Ma’asehem (Warsaw, 1886), 517.
[6] Hillel Noach Steinschneider, Ir Vilna (Vilna, 1900), 32. 
[7] For a biography of R. Abele, see Ir Vilna, 19-29.  His third wife, Fagie, was R. Landau’s sister. For more about the Kloyz see Cohen-Mushlin, Synagogues in Lithuania N-Z, 308 and for more details on the building and the Parnes see Aelita Ambrulevičiūtė, Houses that Talk:  Sketches of Vokiečiu Street in the Nineteenth Century (Vilnius:  Auko Žuvys, 2015), 91-95.
[8] Ir Vilna, 32. 
[9] Ir Vilna, 30-31.
[10] See the comments of R. David Luria, “the greatness of my teacher, Rabbenu ha-Gadol z’l [ha-Gaon] is such that there are many stories and legends attesting to that there are as many variations, embellishments and deficiencies in every story.”  R. David Luria, “Letter from ha-Gaon ha-Rav RD”L,” in Yeshua Heschel Levin, Aliyot Eliyahu (Vilna, 1857), 4.
[11] Barukh Halevi Epstein, Torah Temimah: Bamidbar 6:33.  
[12] Siddur Aliyot Eliyahu (Machon Ma’dani Asher, 1999); Siddur Ezer Eliyahu (Jerusalem: Kerem Eliyahu, 1998).
[13] Ir Vilna, 35.
[14] See Ir Vilna, 102.
[15] For more on this building and the history of it and the Gaon’s kloyz see Shlomo Zalman Havlin, “ ‘Ha-Kloyz’ shel ha-Gaon me-Vilna Zts”l, Helek shel ‘Pinkas ha-Kloyz,’” in Yeshurun 6 (1999), 678-85; Dan Rabinowitz, The Lost Library:  The Legacy of Vilna’s Strashun Library in the Aftermath of the Holocaust (Waltham:  Brandeis University Press, 2018), 55-58.
[16] See, e.g. Ir Vilna, 32; Keneset Yisrael, 517-18.
[17] Even the siddur that does provide that the Gaon’s custom was to use just one hand there is no mention that the practice was because of potentially violating a biblical commandment. 
[18] Kugel was among the customary foods eaten on Shabbat across Europe.  Herman Pollack, Jewish Folkways in Germanic Lands (1648-1806):  Studies in Aspects of Daily Life (Cambridge:  M.I.T. Press, 1971), 112, 275n39.  
Hasidic thought imbued kugel with special powers and it occupied a lofty place in its rituals. See Allan Nadler, “Holy Kugel:  The Sanctification of Ashkenazic Ethnic Foods in Hasidism,” in Food and Judaism:  A Special Issue of Studies in Jewish Civilization 15 (Lincoln:  University of Nebraska Press, 2005), 193-214 (my thanks to Shaul Stampfer for calling this source to my attention).  See also Joan Nathan, “Kugel Unraveled,” New York Times Sept. 28, 2005, F1.
Kugel was one of the foods that originated in Germany and spread to eastern Europe and both Jews and non-Jews ate it.  See Pollack, Jewish Folkways, 112. Other traditional foods include fish, cholent, tsimes, farfl, kneydlekh, kikhelekh, lokshn and kasha. For fish see Moshe Hallamish, Ha-Kabbalah be-Tefilah be-Halakha, u-be-Minhag (Ramat Gan:  Bar-Ilan University Press, 2000), 486-506; for the others see Pollack, Jewish Folkways, 100-112.
[19] Ben Tzion Alfes, Ma’ashe Alfas:  Tolodah u-Zikhronot (Jerusalem, 1941), 9-10.
[20] Today if one wants to combine the two, there is a recipe for striemel kugel here