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Book Announcement: The Lost Library by Dan Rabinowitz

Book Announcement: The Lost Library by Dan Rabinowitz

By Eliezer Brodt

Its with great pleasure that I announce the recent publication of an important work, that I am certain will be of great interest to readers of the Seforim Blog – The Lost Library by Dan Rabinowitz, founder and editor-in-chief of the Seforim Blog. This book is devoted to the legacy of the personal and expanded public library of Rabbi Mattityahu Strashun.

From the back cover:

The Strashun Library was among the most important Jewish public institutions in Vilna, and indeed in Eastern Europe, prior to its destruction during World War II. Mattityahu Strashun, descended from a long and distinguished line of rabbis, bequeathed his extensive personal library of 5,753 volumes to the Vilna Jewish community on his death in 1885, with instructions that it remain open to all.

In the summer of 1941, the Nazis came to Vilna, plundered the library, and shipped many of its books to Germany for deposition at a future Institute for Research Into the Jewish Question. When the war ended, the recovery effort began. Against all odds, a number of the greatest treasures of the library could be traced. However, owing to its diverse holdings and its many prewar patrons, a custody battle erupted over the remaining holdings. Who should be heir to the Strashun Library?

This book tells the story of the Strashun Library from its creation through the contentious battle for ownership following the war until present day. Pursuant to a settlement in 1958, the remnants of the greatest prewar library in Europe were split between two major institutions: the secular YIVO in the United States and the rabbinic library of Hechal Shlomo in Israel, a compromise that struck at the heart of the library’s original unifying mission.

In 2005 Dan Rabinowitz founded the Seforim Blog and I started corresponding with him almost immediately. One of the people we discussed often was R’ Strashun as both Dan and I were fascinated by him. Dan’s interest extended to the library and what happened to it after R’ Strashun’s death and especially what happened to it after World War Two. Eventually, in November 2015 Dan authored a lengthy post on the Seforim Blog dealing with different aspects of R’ Strashun and his library. This post eventually turned into this full-length book on the subject.

The Lost Library is written in Dan’s extremely clear, lucid and captivating manner as familiar to readers of the Seforim Blog (having read hundreds of his articles and at times not realizing he is the author of them because most do not include his name – in essence, stamm seforim blog post dan rabinowitz, at least the scholarly ones). The book begins with an exciting personal introduction (A PDF is available upon request) giving background to the development of one of Dan’s favorite pastimes collecting books. However, similar to the subject of this book R’ Strashun, Dan’s interest extends to not just owning the book but to developing a personal relationship with the book contents. This becomes evident as one reads The Lost Library, especially the vast number of sources in multiple languages housed in numerous collections and libraries all over the world including his personal library. The Lost Library meticulously documents each of his claims from these extensive sources collected over intense research conducted over a few years.

The book begins with an overview of that ‘ir ve’em be-yisrael, the famous city of Vilna, giving the reader excellent background to the environment and city (including current descriptions as the author visited Vilna while working on this volume). The author discusses what made Vilna famous, sidetracking into very relevant topics such as R’ Mattityahu father, the Rashash and others affiliated with the Vilna Gaon, Vilna’s most famous resident. Dan then turns to deal with the hero of the book, R’ Mattityahu and provides the reader with a comprehensive biography that discusses his unique style of learning and how that influenced his book collecting habits. The next chapter is the opening of the public library after Mattityahu’s death and the impact it had on the community and eastern European Jewry at large. The book then goes onto detailing the library’s life during the Holocaust and especially afterword as different parties claimed ownership when most of it was discovered to have survived.

Marc Shapiro wrote:

Taking us on a journey from nineteenth-century Vilna until almost the present day, Rabinowitz not only documents the vicissitudes of this important institution, but helps us understand the intellectual culture of one of the centers of Judaism in modern times.”—Marc B. Shapiro, Weinberg Chair in Judaic Studies, University of Scranton

And others praised the work as well.

“Rabinowitz has done a brilliant job in his moving and important book…. Through the story of the Strashun Library, he gives us insight into the richness and vibrancy of Jewish life in Vilna. He vividly portrays the restoration of the books of the Strashun Library, a testimony to the indomitable Jewish spirit.”
—Ambassador Stuart E. Eizenstat, chief White House domestic policy adviser to President Carter

“Rabinowitz’s meticulously researched study is an outstanding expression of the wealth of knowledge provided by a thorough exploration of Jewish material culture…In his detailed reconstruction of the Strashun library’s fate after the German invasion, he detects a breathtaking history of loss and mourning, of illegal claims and desires, of appropriation and incorporation that expresses the rupture of the Holocaust and the contested visions of Jewish life after catastrophe.”—Elisabeth Gallas, Leibniz Institute for Jewish History and Culture –Simon Dubnow

This book is of particular personal great interest. The first time I recall hearing something from R’ M. Strashun was when I was in tenth grade. R’ Hershel Schachter had just begun giving a shiur once a week in Flatbush for Balei Battim on Mesechtas Kidushin. I attended a few of them, during one of the shiurim he mentioned R’ M. Strashun’s comments in Bava Basra praising him (I do not recall his exact discussion, but it was about the word Achron). I had been familiar with the Strashun name for a while through R’ Mattityahu father, the Rashash via my father. The Rashash symbolized an emphasis on peshat, from then on I was very curious about R’ Mattityahu. Fast forward a few years when I began learning in the Mir in EY I was talking to a friend somehow it came up about R’ M. and the friend mentioned he loves him and that the great Gaon R’ Yakov Chaim Sofer always quotes him with great respect. He then showed me a sefer of Mattiyahu printed by Mossad Harav Kook (Mivchar Kesavim). The sefer was out of print and hard to find, but the Sitrah Achrah helped me find it a little while later. I immediately began learning through the work. Since then I have found the work many times in used shops and have found these copies, proper owners, to appreciate them. One time while learning the sefer an Israeli chavrusha saw what I was learning and said how you could learn a sefer of a maskil! I argued it was good enough for me that R’ Yitchack Elchanan Spektor who, in his old age, came to Vilna to eulogize R’ Mattityahu. My chavrusha dismissed this anecdote and replied that means nothing! Of course, I could not convince him that there was nothing wrong with him. However, his complaint sparked the exact opposite – and spurred me to research and read more of R’ Mattityahu’s writings which only enhanced my reverence for him. My chavrusha’s position notwithstanding, other very frum Israelis friends expressed their appreciation and fascination with R’ Mattityahu. Most of his writings appeared in newspapers and journals and are not readily available or even known. However, in a few months, I will god willingly print some of them. Eventually, I wrote my first academic article in English about him (available in PDF upon request or from here).

One final point about R’M that particularly resonated with me. R’M did not merely collect seforim he used them, and this is apparent from hundreds of citations throughout his works. A later resident of Vilna, and one too who was indeed very well-read was R’ Chaim Ozer. He did not need an extensive personal library as he had unfettered access to the Strashun Library – indeed was unique in that he was one of the few given borrowing privileges. Here is a book request from R’ Chaim Ozer, addressed to the Strashun Library’s head librarian Chaim Chaikel Lunski. Thanks to R’ Dovid Kamenetsky for making it available:

One of my favorite stories about the library as told by R’ Moshe Shmukler in his fascinating book, Moshe Shmuel ve-Doro, combines the idea of the voracious reader and a comprehensive library:

ר’ חיים עוזר… מלבד בקיאותו הגדולה בתלמוד ובראשונים, הצטיין בבקיאות עצומה בשאלות ותשובות האחרנים… פעם החלטתי לנסותו עד כמה כוחו גדול באחרונים, סרתי לספריה של שטראשון ועברתי על פני הקאטאלוג במקרה נתקבל מבטי על הספר מאמר מרדכי להגאון ר’ מרדכי זאב אוטינגר מלמברג ספר שלא נודע לי עד אז וחשבתיו ליקר המציאות. דפדפתי בספר ומצאתי איזה הערה נפלא על דברי בעל הלכות גדולות המובא ברא”ש סוף פ”ב דיבמות. חשבתי האח, מצאתי את מה שאוותה נפשי. במוצאי שבת באתי לר’ חיים עוזר, כי הערב ההוא היה מוקש ללות אתו בחידוש תורה. בשעת השיחה העילתי כלאחר יד את הקושיא על הבה”ג. ומה השתוממתי לשמוע מפי תיכף, כי זוהי קושיתו של בעל מאמר מרדכי… [ר’ משה שמואל ודורו, עמ’ 176].

The book can be purchased from the publisher here, Amazon or Book Depository.

Here is a portrait of R’ Mattityahu followed by a scene depicting the Strashun Library in Vilna in its heyday:




When Rav Kook Was the Kana’i (Zealot) and His Opponent the Melits Yosher (Advocate)

When Rav Kook Was the Kana’i (Zealot) and His Opponent the Melits Yosher (Advocate)[1]

By Bezalel Naor

In 1891, there appeared in Warsaw an anonymous work[2] entitled Hevesh Pe’er,[3] whose sole objective was to clarify for the masses the proper place on the head to don the tefillah shel rosh or head-phylactery. According to halakhah, the tefillah must be placed no lower than the hairline and no higher than the soft spot on a baby’s head (i.e. the anterior fontanelle).[4] In ancient times, there were sectarian Jews who deliberately placed the tefillah on the forehead, as attested to by the Mishnah: “If one placed it [i.e. the tefillah] on his forehead, or on his hand, this is the way of sectarianism (minut).”[5] These Jews interpreted literally the verse, “You shall bind them for a sign upon your hand, and they shall be for frontlets between your eyes.”[6] Adherents to Rabbinic Judaism are punctilious about placing the hand-phylactery on the biceps of the forearm opposite the heart,[7] and the head-phylactery above the hairline. East European Jews who placed their phylacteries on the forehead did so not out of conviction, as the Sadducees of old, but rather out of sheer ignorance of the law. The slim book (all of 24 leaves or 48 pages) was thus an elaborate educational vehicle to educate the masses how to properly observe the law.[8]

According to the approbation to Hevesh Pe’er by Rabbi Elijah David Rabinowitz-Te’omim (ADeReT) of Ponevezh, the book was published [but not authored] by his former son-in-law (presently his brother’s son-in-law), Rabbi Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook of Zeimel.[9]

Wares in hand, the young rabbi of Zeimel (aged twenty-six) assumed the role of an itinerant bookseller, travelling from town to town in Lithuania. Wherever he went, he preached concerning the importance of fulfilling the commandment of tefillin. Historically, there was precedent for a rabbi promoting that specific mitsvah. In the thirteenth century, Rabbi Jacob of Coucy (author of Sefer Mitsvot Gadol or SeMaG), circulating in the communities of France and Spain, was able to turn the tide and convince Jews, hitherto lax in their observance of the commandment, to don tefillin.[10] As for an author posing as an itinerant bookseller, Rav Kook’s older contemporary, Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan of Radin, had done exactly that, thus earning himself the sobriquet Hafets Hayyim, after the book by that name that he peddled. (Hafets Hayyim tackles the problem, halakhic and otherwise, of malicious gossip.)

It is recorded that Rav Kook’s sermons had such a positive influence upon his audience that the Rebbe of Slonim, Rabbi Shmuel Weinberg, offered to support him if he would devote himself fulltime to acting as a maggid or peripatetic preacher.[11]

One would never have imagined that this halakhic work would meet with any rabbinic opposition.[12] The point it makes that wearing the head-phylactery below the hairline on the forehead invalidates the performance of the commandment, seems rather clear-cut in the sources. (In fact, but a few years earlier, in 1884, Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan in his work Mishnah Berurah had advised wearing the phylactery higher on the head, at a remove from the hairline, just to be on the safe side.)[13]

However, five years later, Rabbi Ze’ev Wolf Turbowitz of Kraz (Lithuanian, Kražiai; Yiddish, Krozh)[14] devoted the very first of his collected responsa to pummeling the anonymous work Hevesh Pe’er.[15] Rabbi Turbowitz prefaces his remarks by saying: “The intention of this author [i.e. the author of Hevesh Pe’er] is for [the sake of] heaven, but nonetheless he has spoken shabbily of the people of the Lord. May the Lord forgive him. For Israel, ‘if they are not prophets, they are the children of prophets.’”[16] Rabbi Turbowitz goes on to argue that the commandment is invalidated only if the majority of the phylactery is placed below the hairline. If, on the other hand, the majority is situated above the hairline and only a minority below, then the halakhic principle of “rubo ke-khulo” (“the majority as the whole”) applies, and the commandment is fulfilled.[17] One of the rabbi’s supposed proofs is that one must recite the blessing once again only in a case where the entire phylactery or the majority thereof has slipped down, but if only a minority of the phylactery has been displaced, with the majority still within the prescribed area, one does not recite another blessing upon readjusting the phylactery.[18]

Rav Kook (now outed as the author of Hevesh Pe’er) responded to the onslaught of Tif’eret Ziv. His lengthy rejoinder, entitled “Kelil Tif’eret,” appeared in the periodical Torah mi-Zion (Jerusalem, 1900).

Rav Kook dismantles Rabbi Turbowitz’s supposed proof from the fact that another blessing is unwarranted as long as the majority of the phylactery is still in its proper place. Rav Kook reasons that we must distinguish between the essential commandment (“‘etsem ha-mitsvah”) and the action of the commandment (“ma‘aseh ha-mitsvah”). The fact that one does not recite an additional blessing does not necessarily mean that the commandment (“‘etsem ha-mitsvah”) is still being fulfilled. What it does imply, is that the action of the commandment (“ma‘aseh ha-mitsvah”) is ongoing. The blessing addresses renewed action (“ma‘aseh ha-mitsvah”). In a case where only a minority of the phylactery has been displaced, the action required to readjust it does not warrant a blessing. “And the Turei Zahav[19] holds that since in the entire Torah, ‘rubo ke-khulo,’[20] once most of the action has been nullified, the action as a whole is nullified, but if most of the action remains, even though the commandment has been nullified, still the action exists…”[21]

As is typical for Rav Kook, he signs himself, “Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook, servant to the servants of the Lord…Bausk.”[22]

Evidently, Rabbi Turbowitz was not one to take something lying down. He came back at Rav Kook with a stinging reply, integrated into Ziv Mishneh, his commentary to Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah.[23] There, in Hilkhot Tefillin (4:1), he maintains that since “rubo ke-khulo is a universal principle in the entire Torah”[24]—this applies to tefillin as well. He reiterates once again his proof from the TaZ, who ruled that the blessing is recited once again only in a scenario where the tefillin are totally displaced. He mentions the opinion of “one wise man” (“hakham ehad”) who wrote that even the slightest deviation disqualifies the mitsvah, and disagrees. According to Rabbi Turbowitz, lekhathilah (to begin with), the entire phylactery should be above the hairline with none of it extending down to the forehead, but be-di‘avad (ex post facto), if a minority of the phylactery is below the hairline, one has nonetheless fulfilled the commandment. And therefore, the anonymous sage was wrong to badmouth the masses, who are remiss in this respect, and their spiritual leaders, who look the other way and do not protest. “He spoke shabbily of the people of the Lord and will in the future be called to judgment!” After summing up rather concisely the position he took earlier in Tif’eret Ziv, Rabbi Turbowitz now lambastes Rav Kook for what he wrote in Torah mi-Zion (Jerusalem, 1900), no. 4, chap. 4, accusing Rav Kook of deliberately misquoting him.

In 1925, two disciples of Rav Kook, Rabbi Yitshak Arieli[25] and Rabbi Uri Segal Hamburger,[26] reissued Hevesh Pe’er in Jerusalem with Rav Kook’s permission.[27] Appended to the work was Rav Kook’s rebuttal “Kelil Tif’eret.” (In addition, this edition was graced by the comments of Rav Kook’s deceased father-in-law, ADeReT, and of Rav Kook’s admirers in Jerusalem: Rabbis Tsevi Pesah Frank, Ya‘akov Moshe Harlap, and Yehiel Mikhel Tukachinsky. Finally, there are the substantial “Comments upon Comments” [“He‘arot le-He‘arot”] of the editor, Rabbi Yitshak Arieli.)[28]

In 1939, Rabbi Yosef Avigdor Kesler of Rockaway (Arverne to be precise)[29] published a second collection of his deceased father-in-law, Rabbi Ze’ev Turbowitz’s numerous responsa. Whereas the first collection of Tif’eret Ziv covered only Orah Hayyim, this collection covered all four sections of Shulhan ‘Arukh.[30] In addition, it contained a supplement (Kuntres Aharon) entitled “Mele’im Ziv.” In the supplement, Rabbi Kesler published a letter from ADeReT to Rabbi Turbowitz that turned up in the latter’s papers.

ADeReT’s letter is datelined “Monday, Vayyetse, 5657 [i.e. 1896].” In the letter, ADeReT gratefully acknowledges receipt of the recently published book Tif’eret Ziv. Regretting that he is unable to send monetary payment for the book because he is presently inundated with works of various authors, ADeReT nonetheless wishes to at least offer some comment on the contents of the book.[31]

Referring to the very first responsum in Tif’eret Ziv, ADeReT rejoices that Rabbi Turbowitz sought to advocate on behalf of the Jewish People regarding the commandment of tefillin. He is especially overjoyed that Rabbi Turbowicz was not cowed, but dared to differ. ADeReT holds up as role models Rabbi Zerahyah Halevi (Ba‘al ha-Ma’or) who critiqued Rabbi Isaac Alfasi (Rif), only to be attacked himself by Rabad of Posquières; Rabad of Posquières who critiqued Maimonides; et al. Since this is the “way of Torah” (darkah shel Torah), why should he harbor any resentment toward Rabbi Turbowitz for disagreeing with him?[32] (ADeReT, though not the author of Hevesh Pe’er, had wholeheartedly endorsed it.)

The sterling character of ADeReT is best summed up in these lines:

God forbid, I am not deluded to think that truth resides with me. I wholeheartedly acknowledge the truth. I have not a thousandth part of resentment towards one who differs with me. And the opposite, I love him with all my soul when he points out to me the truth.[33]

Since Rabbi Turbowitz acted as a true talmid hakham (Torah scholar) who uninhibitedly speaks truth, ADeReT wonders why he failed to mention the name of the work he critiqued, Hevesh Pe’er. This would have provoked neither the author nor ADeReT.[34]

In this vein of truth-seeking, ADeReT proceeds to explain why the argument presented in Tif’eret Ziv failed to dissuade him from the position adopted both by him and the author of Hevesh Pe’er. Since the shi’ur or measurement of the area on the head where the phylactery is to be placed is Halakhah le-Moshe mi-Sinai (a law to Moses from Sinai), the principle of “rubo ke-kulo” is of no consequence in this regard.[35]

Realizing the historic importance of the contents of the letter, Rabbi Kesler provided a photograph of the crucial passage in the letter, which reads as follows:

About two years ago, the thought occurred to me to reprint the booklet Hevesh Pe’er. I wrote to its author, my son-in-law, my soul-friend (today the Rabbi of Bausk, may he live) and asked him if he has anything new to add to it. He wrote me an article, brief in quantity but great in quality, that it is possible to say ‘rubo ke-khulo.’ In the summer of 5655 [i.e. 1895] when I was in Warsaw, I already spoke with a printer and also notified the [government] censor, and I was thinking to print. But after this, I reversed myself, and the two of us [i.e. ADeReT and Rav Kook] agreed that it is not worthwhile to print leniencies (kulot) in this.[36]

ADeReT explains that if we show any leniency, it will prove a slippery slope. He reveals to Rabbi Turbowitz his unusual experience with Hasidim in particular: “From this, there came about in places where the Hasidim reside [the custom] to wear large tefillin.[37] Not one in a thousand bears most of the tefillah within the hairline. In most cases, but a small fraction (mi‘uta de-mi‘uta) [is within the hairline]. I have seen with my own eyes the entirety upon the forehead. They laughed at my rebuke, saying: ‘Thus is the mitsvah.’ ‘So we saw our fathers doing.’ etc. etc.”[38]

The letter concludes with this salutation:

His friend who is honored by his love, appreciates his genius and his Torah, and blesses him with all good,

Elijah David Rabinowitz Te’omim

…Mir[39]

[1] These are the exact words of Rabbi Joseph Avigdor Kesler in the introduction to his father-in-law Rabbi Ze’ev Wolf Turbowitz’s work of responsa, Tif’eret Ziv (Brooklyn: Moinester Publishing Company, 1939), p. 7, par. 5.

By the time of his passing in 1935, Rav Kook would be immortalized as a twentieth-century Rabbi Levi Isaac of Berdichev, the great advocate of the Jewish People, forever defending their practices in the heavenly tribunal. Today, Rav Kook is famous for his leniency concerning the Shemitah or Sabbatical year, the heter mekhirah, which allows sale of the land to a non-Jew for the duration, whereby agriculture, or at least some forms thereof, may take place. The model for this contract is the prevalent mekhirat hamets or sale of leaven to a non-Jew before Passover, so that it need not be removed from the home of the Jew.

However, in general, if one studies the teshuvot (responsa) of Rav Kook, he does not come across as extraordinarily lenient in his pesakim or halakhic decisions. Par contre, someone whose work is chock-full of startling leniencies is Rabbi Aryeh Tsevi Fromer of Kozhiglov (1884-1943), Rosh Yeshivah of Yeshivat Hakhmei Lublin and a disciple of Rabbi Abraham Bornstein (author of responsa Avnei Nezer). Rabbi Fromer designed his work of responsa, Erets Tsevi (Lublin, 1938), to be melamed zekhut, to find some halakhic justification (however farfetched) for certain otherwise anomalous practices within the Jewish community. This is apparent from the very first responsum, where the author attempts to justify the prevalent practice of wearing a tallit katan that fails to meet the prescribed shi‘ur or measurement.

[2] The title page credits as author: “KDY (Kohen Da‘ato Yafah).” The expression “kohen she-da‘ato yafah” comes out of the Mishnah, ‘Avodah Zarah 2:5. Thus, the title alludes to the author being a Kohen or member of the priestly caste.

The thought occurs to this writer (BN) that “Yafah” might be an allusion to Rav Kook’s descent from Rabbi Mordechai Yaffe (author of the Levush[im]). Rav Kook was immensely proud of his pedigree which reached back to the Levush. The pedigree to the Levush was something that Rav Kook had in common with his father-in-law ADeReT. In the letter written by Rav Kook’s paternal great-uncle, Rabbi Mordechai Gimpel Yaffe of Rozhinoy, to the Trisker Maggid, Rabbi Abraham Twersky, Rabbi Yaffe mentions their remote common ancestor, the Levush.

[3] The title is taken from the verse in Ezekiel 24:17: “Pe’erkha havosh ‘alekha” (“Bind your head-tire upon you”). The Rabbis interpreted the head-tire as a reference to the head-tefillah; see b. Mo‘ed Katan 15a.

[4] y. ‘Eruvin 10:1; b. Menahot 37a; Maimonides, MT, Hil. Tefillin 4:1; Rabbi Joseph Karo, Shulhan ‘Arukh, Orah Hayyim 27:9.

[5] m. Megillah 4:8.

[6] Deuteronomy 6:8.

[7] Shulhan ‘Arukh, Orah Hayyim 27:1.

[8] In Hevesh Pe’er, chap. 2, the author points out that there already appeared in print a small booklet with diagrams, “Tikkun ‘Olam ‘im tsiyurim,” but writes that the error persists depite that.

[9] Rav Kook’s first wife, Alta Batsheva, daughter of ADeReT, died at a young age, leaving him to raise their infant daughter, Freida Hannah. ADeReT suggested to Rav Kook that he marry Reiza Rivkah, ADeReT’s niece, daughter of his deceased twin brother, Tsevi Yehudah, Rabbi of Ragola. ADeReT had raised Reiza Rivkah in his home after her father’s death.

[10] Rabbi Jacob of Coucy, Sefer Mitsvot Gadol, positive commandment 3; Hevesh Pe’er, chap. 2. At the end of positive commandment 3, Rabbi Jacob gives the exact year of his campaign in Spain: 4996 anno mundi or 1236 C.E.

Urbach writes that this role of the itinerant preacher, or darshan, is without precedent among the French Tosafists; he conjectures that in this respect, Rabbi Moses of Coucy came under the influence of Hasidei Ashkenaz. See E.E. Urbach, Ba‘alei ha-Tosafot (Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 1995), pp. 466-470. Concerning specifically French Jewry’s laxity when it came to observing the commandment of tefillin, see ibid. p. 469, n. 13 (citing Tosafot, Shabbat 49a, s.v. ke-Elisha Ba‘al Kenafayim, and Rosh Hashanah 17a, s.v. karkafta de-lo manah tefillin). The SeMaG refutes Rabbenu Tam’s understanding of “karkafta de-lo manah tefillin.”

[11] Rabbi Ya‘akov Moshe Harlap, quoted in Rabbi Moshe Tsevi Neriyah, Sihot ha-Rayah (Tel-Aviv, 1979), p. 191, and idem, Tal ha-Re’iyah (Tel-Aviv, 1993), p. 116. According to Rabbi Harlap, the Slonimer Rebbe reached out to ADeReT, hoping that he could prevail upon his former son-in-law (and present nephew by marriage) to accept this magnaminous offer.

[12] Rav Kook’s erstwhile mentor in the Volozhin Yeshivah, Rabbi Naphtali Tsevi Yehudah Berlin (NeTsIV), was so enamored of Hevesh Pe’er that he kept it in his tallit bag. See the Introduction of Rabbis Yitshak Arieli and Rabbi Uri Segal Hamburger to the Jerusalem 1925 edition of Hevesh Pe’er, p. 2.

[13] See Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan, Mishnah Berurah (Warsaw, 1884) to OH 27:9. In the Be’ur Halakhah, Rabbi Kagan sought support for this prescription in the manuscript glosses of “the Gaon Rabbi El‘azar Harlap” to Ma‘aseh Rav (a collection of the practices of the Vilna Gaon). If I am not mistaken, these notes would have been penned by the Gaon (and Mekubal) Rabbi Ephraim Eliezer Tsevi Harlap of Mezritch.

[14] Rabbi Ze’ev Wolf Turbowitz was born Rosh Hodesh Iyar, 1840 in Baboina near Kletsk and was known in his youth as the “Ilui of Baboina.” His first wife was from Izilian. After his marriage, he devoted himself exclusively to study of Torah, whereby he was then known as the “Porush of Izilian.” At a tender age he began to study Kabbalah. (Among his writings was found a work on Zohar.) In 1863, he was appointed as a rosh metivta in Minsk. In 1866, he received his first rabbinical position in Swislowitz. In 1875, he assumed the rabbinate of Kletsk. Afterward, he served a stint in Wolpa. And finally in 1889, he was elected rabbi of Kraz, where he served until his death on the 14th of Kislev, 5682 [i.e. 1921]. These biographical details were gleaned from his son-in-law Rabbi Yosef Kesler’s introduction to the Brooklyn 1939 edition of Tif’eret Ziv, p. 4.

Rabbi Eitam Henkin hy”d wrote of the interface between Rabbi Turbowitz and Rabbi Eliyahu Goldberg, mentor of Rabbi Yehiel Mikhel Epstein (author of ‘Arukh ha-Shulhan). Besides corresponding with Rabbi Goldberg in halakhic matters, Rabbi Turbowitz delivered a moving hesped (eulogy) for Rabbi Goldberg in 1875 in the town of Kletsk, Rabbi Goldberg’s birthplace. See Rabbi Eitam Henkin, Ta‘arokh Lefanai Shulhan (Israel: Maggid, 2018), pp. 359-360, 363.

[15] See Rabbi Ze’ev Wolf Turbowitz, Tif‘eret Ziv (Warsaw, 1896), no. 1. Ziv is an acronym for Ze’ev Yekhuneh Volf.

The responsum is datelined “Wednesday, 16 Tamuz, 5651 [1891],” which means that it was penned the same year that Hevesh Pe’er was published. Rabbi Turbowitz does not mention the book by name, referring to it as “a new book that has appeared” (“sefer ehad hadash she-yatsa la-’or”).

By the same token, in responsum 12 of Tif’eret Ziv, where Rabbi Turbowitz engages with another early work of Rav Kook (in fact, his first), ‘Ittur Soferim, he refers to that work obliquely as “sefer ehad katan” (“a small book”). Rabbi Abraham Joshua of Pokroi had raised the question whether one who becomes bar mitsvah at night must recite once again the blessing for studying Torah (birkat ha-Torah), though he already recited it that morning. The editor, Rav Kook, devoted a few pages to resolving this problem. See ‘Ittur Soferim, Part Two (Vilna, 1888), 9a-10b. Rabbi Turbowitz made short shrift of the question. At the same time, he tackled the Vilna dayan, Rabbi Shelomo Hakohen, who had also raised the question in his work, Binyan Shelomo. In the Brooklyn 1939 edition of Tif’eret Ziv, the first two responsa are to Rabbi Shelomo Hakohen, who had defended his position to Rabbi Turbowitz.

According to Rabbi Turbowitz’s son-in-law, Rabbi Yosef Avigdor Kesler, the famous “Gadol of Minsk” (i.e. Rabbi Yeruham Yehudah Perlman) read Rabbi Turbowitz’s responsum concerning the placement of the head-phylactery before it went to print and approved its contents. See the supplement to the Brooklyn 1939 edition of Tif’eret Ziv, Kuntres Aharon, “Mele’im Ziv,” 2d-3a, footnote.

[16] Tif’eret Ziv, 6a. The quote is from b. Pesahim 66b: “Leave Israel alone! If they are not prophets, they are the children of prophets.” Rabbi Turbowitz’s remark is quoted in Yehudah Mirsky, Rav Kook: Mystic in a Time of Revolution (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2014), p. 23.

[17] Tif’eret Ziv 1:3 (6c).

[18] Tif’eret Ziv 1:16-21 (8c-9b). See Rabbi David Halevi (TaZ), Magen David to OH 8:15; cited in Mishnah Berurah to OH 25:12.

[19] See previous note.

[20] It may strike the reader as ironic that Rav Kook introduced at this point in the discussion the concept of rubo ke-khulo when he had earlier rejected its application. But from Rav Kook’s standpoint (and that of his father-in-law Aderet, see below note 35), that principle simply could not be applied to the area of the phylactery with its precise dimensions. “Shi‘urim halakhah le-Moshe mi-Sinai,” “Measurements are a law to Moses from Sinai” (y. Pe’ah 1:1, Hagigah 1:2; b. ‘Eruvin 4a, Yoma 80a, Sukkah 5b).

[21] Rabbi Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook, “Kelil Tif’eret” in Hevesh Pe’er, ed. Rabbis Y. Arieli and Uri Segal-Hamburger (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1985), p. 46. Of course, the element of hesah ha-da‘at, i.e. whether one has “removed one’s awareness,” plays a crucial part in determining whether one must recite the blessing on the tefillin once again. See ibid.

Rav Kook’s hiluk (differentiation) between “‘etsem ha-mitsvah” and “ma‘aseh ha-mitsvah” (especially the terminology) is somewhat remarkable, issuing as it did from the pen of Rav Kook, who studiously avoided the school of Hasbarah with its abstract constructs and neologisms, then in vogue in the Lithuanian yeshivah world. The most famous proponent of Hasbarah was Rabbi Hayyim Soloveitchik (who would one day inherit his father Rabbi Yosef Dov Soloveitchik’s rabbinate in Brisk, whereupon he would be known as “Reb Hayyim Brisker”). The latter’s methodology of Talmudic analysis came to be known as the “Brisker derekh [ha-limud],” “the Brisker way.”

Rav Kook’s biographers have duly noted that his first mentor back in Dvinsk (since Rav Kook’s bar mitsvah), Rabbi Reuven Halevi Levin (known as “Reb Ruvaleh Denaburger”) had, so to speak, “immunized” Rav Kook against the trend of “sevarot” or newfangled “concepts.” Rabbi Reuven Levin was highly suspicious of sevarot that had not been enuciated already by the rishonim, the medieval authorities. (See Rabbi Kesler’s introduction to Tiferet Ziv, Brooklyn 1939, p. 8, par. 9, quoting Rabbi Reuven Levin, and ibid. sec. Hoshen Mishpat, responsum 46:6 [116c]: “It is not my way to say sevarot of my own cognizance.”)

And thus, when later Avraham Yitshak Kook arrived at Volozhin, “the mother of yeshivot,” he gravitated to the elder Rosh Yeshivah, Rabbi Naphtali Tsevi Yehudah Berlin (NeTsIV), known as a pashtan, a champion of the simple understanding of the text, rather than to his grandson-in-law, Rabbi Hayyim Soloveitchik, who was surrounded by budding scholars attracted to the exciting new method of Talmudic analysis that he was developing.

Although Rav Kook was never so outspoken as Ridbaz Wilovsky (“Reb Yankel Dovid Slutsker”) who satirized the new method as “chemistry,” Rav Kook was clearly on the other side of the great divide between Lithuanian Talmudists. This aversion of Rav Kook to the method of “hasbarah” was given eloquent testimony in recently unearthed correspondence concerning the unsuccessful attempt of Rabbi Shim‘on Shkop (a rosh yeshivah in Telz and later head of his own yeshivah in Grodna) to be accepted as Rosh Yeshivah of Merkaz Harav in Jerusalem. Speaking in Rav Kook’s name, his devoted disciple Rabbi Ya‘akov Moshe Harlap conveyed to Rabbi Hizkiyahu Yosef Mishkovski of Krinik (who had interceded on Rabbi Shim‘on Shkop’s behalf) the following laconic response:

Regarding the proposal concerning the Gaon Rabbi Shim‘on Shkop, may he live, to accept him as Rosh Yeshivah of Merkaz Harav, there is certainly nothing to discuss, for since the founding of the Yeshivah, this position is reserved for Maran [our master, i.e. Rav Kook], may he live, who plans to fill it himself. For Maran, may he live, wishes—and this is a strong desire—that the main method of learning of the Yeshivah be according to the order and method of the Gra [i.e. the Gaon Rabbi Elijah of Vilna], of blessed memory. Though he [i.e. Rav Kook] knows and feels also the great necessity of developing the methods of “hasbarot” (conceptualizations) and “havanot hegyoniyot” (logical understandings), he wants the main spirit of the Yeshivah to be based on his method, etc. Today I showed Maran, may he live, his honor’s letter, and what I wrote here is his response.

Rabbi Harlap’s letter is datelined “Monday, 2nd day of Rosh Hodesh Adar, 5686 [i.e. 1926], Jerusalem.” It was published in a Festschrift for his grandson, Rabbi Zevulun Charlop, Zeved Tov, ed. Ari S. Zahtz (New York: Yeshiva University Press, 2008), p. 103.

Inter alia, “Z. Wein” mentioned in the letter from Rabbi Shkop to Rabbi Tobolsky, expressing his desire to settle in the Holy Land (ibid. p. 101), is none other than [Rabbi] Ze’ev Wein a”h, father of Rabbi Berel Wein shelit”a. Rabbi Ze’ev Wein (1906-2004), a disciple of Rabbi Shkop, went on to study in Rav Kook’s Merkaz Harav in Jerusalem. He served for many years as a distinguished rabbi in Chicago.

Rabbi Shim‘on Shkop was famous for his method of “higayon” (logic), displayed in his magnum opus, Sha‘arei Yosher. (Rabbi Hershel Shachter shelit”a revealed to this writer [BN] that his father-in-law, Rabbi Yeshayah Shapiro, a rosh yeshivah at Torah Vodaath in Brooklyn, was instrumental in writing that work.)

This is not the place to discuss in any depth the differences between Rabbi Shim’on Shkop’s method and that of Rabbi Hayyim Brisker and his heirs. Two anecdotes should suffice. The Briskers quipped that Rabbi Shim‘on “had looked at the world and created the Torah” (“Istakel be-‘alma u-vara ’oraita”), a reversal of the Zohar’s adage, “[God] looked at the Torah and created the world” (“istakel be-’oraita u-vara ‘alma”). On one occasion, Rabbi Yitshak Ze’ev Soloveitchik (“Reb Velvel,” known as the “Brisker Rov,” for he inherited from his father Rabbi Hayyim the rabbinate of Brisk) met Rabbi Shim‘on Shkop and told him: “I removed from your student Rabbi Leib Malin the last sinew (gid) left from your teaching.” (The imagery is that of deveining or nikkur. Reb Velvel used the Yiddish verb, “treiberen.”) Both anecdotes were heard from Rabbi Shelomo Fisher shelit”a of Jerusalem.

[22] In 1895, Rav Kook left the town of Zeimel for the large city of Bausk, Latvia.

[23] Rabbi Ze’ev Wolf Turbowitz, Ziv Mishneh (Warsaw, 1904). The author has the rather unique distinction of viewing Maimonides as a kabbalist and finding kabalistic “sources” for his rulings. (Similarly, the introduction to the Warsaw 1896 edition of Tif’eret Ziv demonstrates the author’s proficiency in Lurianic kabbalah.) Though not unique in this respect, Rabbi Turbowitz is perhaps the most outspoken proponent of this peculiar methodology of studying Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah. Another Maimonidean commentator who occasionally resorts to this method of sourcing is Rabbi Joseph Rosen (the Rogatchover Gaon). See his Tsafnat Pa‘neah, Hil. ‘Avodah Zarah 12:6. Nowadays, Rabbi Hayyim Kanievsky’s Kiryat Melekh is replete with references to Zohar.

[24] b. Horayot 3b; and Rashi, Zevahim 26a, s.v. hikhnis rosho ve-rubo. Both are referenced by Rabbi Turbowitz.

[25] Rabbi Yitshak Arieli was one of the founders of Yeshivat Merkaz Harav and acted in the official capacity of “Mashgiah” of the Yeshivah. He is most famous for his work on the Talmud, ‘Eynayim le-Mishpat. Recently, Aharon Ilan, a great-grandson of Rabbi Yitshak Arieli, brought out his biography, ‘Eynei Yitshak (Jerusalem, 2018).

[26] Rabbi Uri Segal Hamburger was a descendant of Rabbi Moshe Yehudah Segal Hamburger of Novemeste (a disciple of the Hatam Sofer) who came to Erets Yisrael in 1857. Rabbi Uri Segal Hamburger resided in the Old City of Jerusalem until its conquest by the Jordanians in 1948. He penned a memoir of that tragic event, “Be-Tseiti mi-Yerushalayim.” One may find a short biography and a photograph of Rabbi Hamburger in ‘Eynei Yitshak, pp. 136-137.

[27] Rav Kook’s biographer and disciple, Rabbi Moshe Tsevi Neriyah, records that Rav Kook wrote in his haskamah (letter of approbation) to the publishers the following disclaimer: “In our holy land, which thank God, is full of Torah and fear of heaven, the admonition (azharah) is not so necessary. Nevertheless, I have not prevented re-issuing the book, for the benefit of our brothers in the diaspora, in areas where the matter is yet in need of correction” (Sihot ha-Rayah, pp. 189-190). This disclaimer does not appear in the printed version of the haskamah. Where did Rabbi Neriyah obtain it? The mystery was cleared up in the new edition of Sihot ha-Rayah (2015) published after Rabbi Neriyah’s passing. Rabbi Arieli’s son, Prof. Nahum Arieli, wrote to Rabbi Neriyah that he has in his possession much material that went into the making of the Jerusalem edition of Hevesh Pe’er edited by his father, including a “petek” (note) with those exact words. Rabbi Neriyah’s daughter, Tsilah Bar-Eli, granted Aharon Ilan permission to include a facsimile of Nahum Arieli’s letter to her father (on stationery of Bar-Ilan University) in the biography of Rabbi Arieli, ‘Eynei Yitshak, p. 139.

[28] Rabbi Arieli’s promised “Kuntres Aharon” was never published. Remnants of the manuscript are in the possession of his heirs. Rabbi Neriyah speculated that financial considerations prevented its publication in Hevesh Pe’er. See ‘Eynei Yitshak, p. 138, n. 102.

[29] On the inside of the book, Rabbi J. Kesler’s address is given as: “146 Beach 74th Street, A[r]verne, Long Island.”

[30] It is important to note that the two collections do not overlap. The responsa on Orah Hayyim that appeared in the Warsaw 1896 edition of Tif’eret Ziv, were not included in the Brooklyn 1939 edition. In their stead, appear more recent responsa on Orah Hayyim. In terms of sheer quantity, the second collection by far outstrips the first. The first Warsaw edition has 122 pages; the second Brooklyn edition, 488 pages.

[31] “Mele’im Ziv,” 2a-b.

[32] “Mele’im Ziv,” 2b-2c.

[33] “Mele’im Ziv,” 2d.

[34] “Mele’im Ziv,” 3a.

[35] “Mele’im Ziv,” 3a-b.

[36] The facsimile occurs in Rabbi Kesler’s introduction to the book on p. 7. It is transcribed in “Mele’im Ziv,” 3b.

If not for the evidence of the facsimile, it would indeed be difficult to accept that Rav Kook once entertained even the remote possibility of invoking the principle of rubo ke-khulo in this regard.

[37] To this day, Lubavitcher Hasidim wear very large tefillin.

[38] “Mele’im Ziv,” 3b-c.

[39] “Mele’im Ziv,” 3d.

In 1893, ADeReT left the community of Ponevezh to assume the rabbinate of Mir.




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.