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The Agunah Problem, Part 1; Incarceration and Free Speech

The Agunah Problem, Part 1; Incarceration and Free Speech
Marc B. Shapiro

1. There has been a lot of discussion recently about the International Beit Din and its rulings allowing certain marriages to be voided, thus freeing women from being agunot. As is to be expected, this beit din has been subject to strong attacks, even of a personal nature, despite the fact that the members of the beit din are recognized talmidei hakhamim. These dayanim are intent on keeping everything above board and have published the reasoning behind their rulings, thus giving opponents the opportunity to engage in halakhic argumentation.
From what I have read, the International Beit Din has three approaches to freeing agunot. One is annul the marriage based on mekah taut, i.e., there was some problem with the husband that would have prevented the wife from marrying him had she known of it. This is a perfectly valid mechanism that has been used by many poskim, such as R. Zvi Pesah Frank, R. Moshe Feinstein, and R. Avraham Shapiro. Although one can, of course, criticize the application of mekah taut to a particular case, the mechanism itself is part of standard halakhic operating procedure and the International Beit Din is well within its rights to use mekah taut when possible. 

The second approach is to find a problem in the marriage ceremony itself, meaning that the marriage never took place. For example, one can show that there were no proper witnesses to the marriage. Here again, one can disagree with particular rulings, but not with the basic approach.

The third approach is that of get zikui, which in the current context means that the beit din issues a divorce to the woman on behalf of the man, even if the man has not approved of this and even if is against his will.[1] While there has been a good deal of discussion of this approach, I can’t find on the International Beit Din’s website that any marriage has actually been dissolved by using this mechanism. Unlike the other two approaches, there is little precedent for use of a get zikui, which means that its chances of being generally accepted are nil.
The use of a get zikui is actually suggested by R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, Seridei Esh, vol. 3, no. 25. In fact, R. Weinberg’s responsum is the most detailed discussion of get zikui but surprisingly it is not included on the International Beit Din’s website. It must be noted, however, that R. Weinberg is only prepared to suggest a get zikui if the husband would want the get to be given. However, in the contemporary agunah situation the problem is that the husbands do not want to give the wives a get, and concerning these cases R. Weinberg writes: נפל היסוד של כתיבת גט מטעם זכי’
Is there another possible approach? How about a heter meah rabbanim for a married woman if she can’t get a get? I know you are thinking that this is crazy, but look at the following page, which comes from the medieval work Etz Hayyim by R. Jacob Hazan.[2] 
As you can see from the very end of the page, it states that the rabbis required a man to give a get if he contracted a marriage באיסור, which in this case means he was already committed to marry someone else. Then it says that if this man disappeared the woman can be freed with a heter meah rabbanim (actually, it says ish, not rabbanim, but I don’t want to get into that now). This is a very radical position, that a woman can be freed by a heter meah rabbanim, and it is attested to nowhere else. Not surprisingly, R. Israel Brodie, the editor of Etz Hayyim,[3] calls attention to this unusual halakhic position. R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin also refers to this novel idea.[4]
But are Rabbis Brodie and Zevin correct? Israel Moshe Ta-Shma and Shlomo Zalman Havlin say no, and see this as a serious mistake. According to them, the last case discussed in Etz Hayyim has nothing to do with the man who married באיסור but refers back to a case mentioned earlier on the page of a man who was only committed to marry a woman. If this man then disappears, מתירין הבחורה במאה איש. In other words, the woman is released from any obligation to marry the missing man, but this has nothing to do with a woman already married. I will let the readers decide for themselves who is correct.[5]
As for the problem of women not being able to get a divorce because the man refuses, there are some important points that must be made which I don’t think everyone is aware of. Today, many people assume that a woman who wants out of a marriage, for whatever reason, has that right. After all, a woman is not a prisoner and a husband should not force her to be married to him if she doesn’t want to. However, this viewpoint is very much a modern approach.[6] If you look at the standard halakhic sources you will find that there is no obligation for a man to give his wife a divorce just because she wants it. Ever since R. Gershom, the same situation is also found in reverse, namely, a husband is not allowed to divorce his wife against her will just because he no longer wishes to be married to her. This approach to ending marriage is very much in line with how secular society use to operate before the introduction of no fault divorce.
Significantly, Maimonides does require the husband to give his wife a divorce if she says she no longer wishes to live with him.[7] R. Kafih elaborates on the wisdom of Maimonides’ position, and here are some of his important words[8]:
ברוך ה’ א-להי ישראל אשר הזריח לנו את המאור הגדול הזה אשר במבטו החודר פלש למעמקי הדורות וצפה גם את דורנו הפרוץ לבשתינו ולמגנת לבבנו, אוי לעינים שכך רואות ואוי לאזנים שכך שומעות, ואלו ראו שאר חכמי הדורות את דורנו היו חותמים על פסקו של רבנו בשתי ידים. כי המציאות הוכיחה צדקת רבנו, שכל התובעת ג”פ בימינו וטוענת מאיס עלאי, לא רק עיניה נתנה באחר אלא היא כבר בחיק האחר או האחרים וחביטא קמייהו כמברכתא, ולפיכך מצוה לכוף את הבעל המתעקש בכל כפיה אפשרית כדי להפריד בין הדבקים ויפה שעה אחת קודם.
However, it is the view in opposition to Maimonides that became the standard position, and it is this view that is recorded in the Shulhan Arukh[9] and followed by batei din. According to this approach, even if a woman says she can no longer live with her husband, he is not obligated to give her a get. What this can lead to is most vividly illustrated by the movie Gett, available here to watch for free for Amazon Prime members.
I have been told that the Beth Din of America operates on the principle that if one of the parties wants a divorce, for whatever reason, and there is no chance for reconciliation, then the Beit Din will instruct the other spouse to comply. But this is not how many other batei din operate. We have to be honest and acknowledge that the problem many women face is not because the dayanim are cruel or anti-women, but that it is Jewish law itself, or rather an interpretation of Jewish law, that is preventing them from receiving their divorces. 

I feel it is necessary to stress this since we can now better appreciate why certain rabbis have attempted to find solutions within Jewish law to the contemporary agunah problem. Many on the right don’t see why this is necessary and why batei din cannot just follow Jewish law as it has operated until now instead of looking for “solutions”. These people might not realize the difficult situation this puts women in, a situation that might have been tolerable years ago but for more and more Orthodox Jews that is no longer the case. On the other hand, many on the left think that it is a simple matter to solve the agunah problem, and that it is just cruel and insensitive rabbis preventing this. This too is a distortion as the rabbis’ hands are often tied by halakhah, and this remains the case no matter how much of a “rabbinic will” they have.

Let me illustrate what I am talking about. As an example of how sentiments have changed over the centuries, here is a passage from R. Hayyim Benveniste that I have cited in two previous posts. In Keneset ha-Gedolah, Even ha-Ezer 154, Hagahot Beit Yosef no. 59, in discussing when we can force a husband to give a divorce, R. Benveniste writes:
ובעל משפט צדק ח”א סי’ נ”ט כתב דאפי’ רודף אחריה בסכין להכותה אין כופין אותו לגרש ואפי’ לו’ לו שחייב להוציא
Can anyone imagine a posek, from even the most right-wing community, advocating such a viewpoint today? The logic behind this position, as can be seen by examining the original responsum in Mishpat Tzedek, is that even if the man is running after her with the knife, we don’t assume that he will actually kill her. He must be doing it just to scare her, and that is not enough of a reason to force him to divorce her, or even to tell him that he is obligated to do so. And if we are wrong, and he really does kill her? I guess the reply would be that this isn’t anything we could have anticipated even if we saw the knife in his hand. This example shows how some poskim from prior generations made it extremely difficult for women to receive a divorce.
Let me give a few examples from more recent years. In 1967 the Supreme Rabbinic Court, consisting of Rabbis Yitzhak Nissim, Betzalel Zolty, and Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, concluded as follows.[10]
כשם שאין כופין בעל לגרש את אשתו בגלל טענת מאיס עלי, כך אין מחייבין את הבעל לגרש עקב טענה זו
This approach, which repeats itself again and again, completely undermines the assumption so many have that a man is obligated to give his wife a get when she no longer wishes to be married to him.
Look again at the conclusion of Rabbis Nissim, Zolty and Elyashiv. It couldn’t be any clearer that this woman is not an agunah. Their conclusion also contradicts the definition of agunah provided by JOFA (see here p. 22).

AGUNAH (pl: AGUNOT) A married woman who may not remarry because the death of her husband has not been verified or because (for whatever reason) she is unable to obtain a get from her husband.

It is simply not true that a woman unable to obtain a get from her husband “for whatever reason” is an agunah. I wish it were different, and I wish Maimonides’ ruling carried the day. But that is not the case, which means that an agunah has to be defined as one whose husband refuses to issue a get after ordered to do so by a beit din.
R. Zvi Hirsch Grodzinski, perhaps the leading talmudist and halakhist in the United States in the early years of the twentieth century, discusses a case where a woman committed adultery (or only claimed to have done so; the matter is not clear, but for this post I am assuming she actually did commit adultery). She then wished to get divorced from her husband.[11] She must have had some connection to Judaism as she requested that her husband give her a get. I think most people would assume that in such a case, where the woman will no longer be living with her husband, that it is essential that the husband give her a get so that she is no longer committing adultery. With the get she can repent and move on with her life. Hopefully, she will be able to find another husband and live as pious Jew.
Yet just because most of us might intuitively feel this way, this does not mean all halakhists have to agree. R. Grodzinski concludes that the husband cannot be forced to give the get. To use today’s popular language, this meant that he was allowed to keep her as an agunah for the rest of her life. Of course, R. Grodzinski would deny that the woman was an agunah. Despite the woman’s adultery, I think most people will still be troubled reading the following words from R. Grodzinski, from which we see that he saw no problem in condemning her to live the rest of her life without receiving a get.
כ”ש בנ”ד שנאסרה עליו ע”י זנות דאין כופין אותו לגרשה בגט, כיון שהיא נתנה אצבע בין שיניה, וגרמה לעצמה במעשיה הרעים והוא לא עשה און, ולמה נכוף אותו ליתן לה גט, לא תבעל לו ותוצרר אלמנות חיות כל ימיה, הלא אינה מצווה על פו”ר, וכי בשביל שהיא הולכת אחרי שרירות לבה וזנתה תחתיו נכוף אותו לגרשה
I don’t think you need to be a member of JOFA or Open Orthodox to be upset by what R. Grodzinski writes, as it probably closed off any chance of repentance on the part of the woman. He also views the withholding of the get as a suitable form of punishment for the woman. Not being obligated in the commandment to procreate, she can be kept a “living widow”.[12]
For another noteworthy example, here is the conclusion of a 1953 Jerusalem Beit Din decision, by the dayanim R. Jacob Ades, R. Bezalel Zolty, and R. Yosef Shalom Elyashiv:[13]
החשש כי האשה תצא לתרבות רעה אם הבעל לא יתן לה גט, אינו משמש יסוד לחייב את הבעל לתת לה גט
This decision from the Jerusalem Beit Din has another passage that is very troubling to me. I find it hard to believe that any Modern Orthodox beit din could conclude in this fashion, and it is precisely attitudes such as this that convinced women that the rabbinic courts in Israel were stacked against them.[14]
הא דברועה זונות יש לחייבו לתת לה גט, היינו היכא שהאשה היתה רוצה לחיות אתו, אלמלא שהבעל הוא רועה זונות, במקרה זה יש מקום לחייבו לגרשה כשהיא דורשת גט, משום שרועה זונות יאבד הון וסופו לא יהיה בידו לפרנסה, וגם משום שעצם היותו רועה זונות נוגע לה שהוא גורע מעונתה, וגם יש חשש של סכנה לחיות אתו, אבל במקרה שהאשה מורדת בבעלה ולא רוצה לחיות אתו בגלל איזו סבה שהיא, ואחרי זה נהיה הבעל רועה זונות אף שיש עבירה בידו, מכל מקום אין לחייבו משום זה לתת לה גט, כיון שהיא מורדת בו הרי הוא פטור ממזונותיה ושוב אין החשש שרועה זונות יאבד הון ולא יהיה בידו לפרנסה, וגם אין הטעם שברועה זונות הדבר נוגע לה שהוא גורע מעונתה וגם יש חשש סכנה לחיות אתו, דהלא היא מורדת בו ולא רוצה בכלל לחיות אתו.
What is a woman supposed to do in a case like this? After learning that her husband frequented prostitutes she had even more reason not to want to return to him, and yet the beit din held that in such a case the husband did not have to give her a get since her initial reason for wanting to be divorced was something else. Again we see that a man can, if he chooses, prevent his wife from being free.
Also of interest are the three reasons the court suggests why a woman would not be happy if her husband was going to prostitutes: 1. He will be spending their money, 2. He will be using them as his sexual outlet and will not want to sleep with his wife, 3. He could pass on a disease to her.
While it is true that a wife’s anger will include reasons 1 and 3, these are not the main reasons she will be upset. For example, the husband could be as rich as a former New York governor and have used protection, yet the wife will still be devastated for the simple reason that his actions were a terrible breach of trust. More than anything else, modern marriages are based on trust. As for reason 2, it is hard to imagine that there is any modern woman who, if she discovered that her husband was going to prostitutes, would want to be divorced because of this reason.
Where did the dayanim get these three reasons, as surprisingly, they don’t tell us? I found reason 1 cited in the Beit Yosef, Even ha-Ezer 154 (towards the end, s.v. מצאתי כתוב בשם ספר אגודה). It originates in R. Alexander Susslein Ha-Kohen’s Sefer Agudah: Yevamot, no. 77.[15] Reasons 2 and 3 are found in the Arukh ha-Shulhan, Even ha-Ezer 154:16.[16]
These reasons undoubtedly reflect a different understanding of marriage, one which does not see the modern romantic notion of trust as the centerpiece of a marriage. Since people’s psychology has changed over the centuries, I don’t think that the reasons offered by medieval authorities operating in a completely different environment can determine what modern women will regard as “deal-breakers” when it comes to marriage. If a modern woman has different expectations of what marriage is than what people had years ago, I would think that this must be taken into account by a beit din in determining what situations require ordering the husband to give a get.
In fact, Sefer Agudah cites another reason why the court compels a husband visiting prostitutes to divorce his wife.
פעם אחת בא מעשה לידי לאה טוענת על ראובן שהיה רועה זונות והוא כופר. ופסקתי שאם תביא עדים שהוא כן יוציא ויתן כתובה. איבעית אימא קרא, איבעית אימא גמרא, איבעית אימא סברא . . . ואיבעית אימא סברא דגרע מכל הנהו דפרק המדיר.
In the final words just quoted (and underlined), Sefer Agudah is referring to this Mishnah in Ketubot 77a:

ואלו שכופין אותו להוציא מוכה שחין ובעל פוליפוס והמקמץ והמצרף נחושת והבורסי בין שהיו עד שלא נישאו ובין משנישאו נולדו ועל כולן אמר רבי מאיר אע”פ שהתנה עמה יכולה היא שתאמר סבורה הייתי שאני יכולה לקבל ועכשיו איני יכולה לקבל. 

The following are compelled to divorce [their wives]: A man who is afflicted with boils, or has a polypus, or gathers [objectionable matter] or is a coppersmith or a tanner, whether they were [in such conditions or positions] before they married or whether they arose after they had married and concerning all these R. Meir said: Although the man made a condition with her [that she acquiesces in his defects] she may nevertheless plead, “I thought I could endure him, but now I cannot endure him.”

This final reason given by Sefer Agudah is based on sevara and not on a rabbinic text.[17] I don’t know why it was not cited by the dayanim, but it supports the point I made that the beit din need not be bound by examples given in the Talmud or other rabbinic sources. Rather, it can evaluate the current psychology of women and how they regard marriage.

For another example of how different current understandings are from what they used to be, look at this responsum of R. Zvi Hirsch Ashkenazi, Hakham Zvi, no. 133.
It deals with a man who committed adultery with a married woman, and his wife therefore wishes to divorce him. In such a case, contemporary Orthodox Jews of all persuasions would agree with the general view in society, that if the wife can forgive her husband and remain married, then it is no one else’s business what goes on in their lives. However, contemporary Orthodox Jews would also agree that if the betrayal is so devastating that the wife will never be able to trust her husband again, and she wants a divorce, then the husband should be required to give the divorce. To paraphrase what the Sefer Agudah said, this is certainly on the level of the things for which the Mishnah in Ketubot requires a husband to grant his wife if she requests if.
Yet the Hakham Zvi refuses to require the man to issue the divorce. One of the things he says is that even the Sefer Agudah would agree that in order to force a divorce the husband has to have been given prior warning not to visit prostitutes. In the case the Hakham Zvi was asked about, he says that there is another reason not to require the get, and that is that the man claims that he wishes to repent. So here we have a case where a man commits adultery, his wife cannot accept this and requests a divorce, and the man refuses and says he will repent. Today people would say that this woman is an agunah, as she is trapped in a marriage she doesn’t want to be in with a husband who cheated on her. Yet the Hakham Zvi rules in favor of the man that no divorce is required.
One can find numerous examples where poskim rule similarly. Here, for instance, is a decision of the Tel Aviv Beit Din.[18]
I think people will be shocked to learn that a woman who wants to divorce her husband because he went to a prostitute is being told by the beit din that she must stay with him if he promises not to do it again. But this only illustrates that the so-called agunah problem is inherent to the halakhic system, which according to the dominant interpretation does not recognize that a woman should be able to exit a marriage if she feels she can no longer live with her husband. There are literally hundreds of examples in the responsa literature and beit din proceedings where a woman is told that even though she wants to be divorced, there is no obligation on her husband to give her a get. Isn’t this where poskim must put their efforts to see if changes can be made? What a woman will tolerate today is not necessarily the same thing as what the Sages and earlier poskim assumed, and this is a point that was already made by halakhic authorities in prior generations.[19]
To further illustrate my point, R. Joseph Karo states that even if a husband is beating his wife he can’t be forced to divorce her.[20] She will obviously live apart from him, but R. Karo does not accept the view of some earlier authorities that the husband can be forced to issue her a divorce. This means that the woman is what we would today call an agunah, but the problem we are facing is not just about an evil man but arises from the halakhah itself. As we have just seen, according to R. Karo it is the halakhah that prevents us from forcing a husband to divorce his wife, even if he beats her.
In this case, R. Moses Isserles strongly rejects R. Karo’s opinion and states that we can force a man beating his wife to divorce her.[21] The passage I have underlined is of particular significance regarding the point I made previously.[22]
ואיני רואה בזב דבריו כלל דכדאי הם הגאונים לסמוך עליהם כל שכן שהרמב”ן ומהר”מ הסכימו בתשובותיהן בענין הכאת אשתו והביאו ראיות ברורות לדבריהם גם הסברא מסכמת עמהן ומה שלא הוזכרו בדברי הפוסקים אפשר לומר שהיה פשוט בעיניהם וקל וחומר הוא מהאומר איני זן וכו’
In deciding which opinion to follow, that of R. Karo or R. Isserles, I think that a point made by R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg is relevant. He states that if there is a dispute among earlier halakhic authorities, we should reject the view that will bring the Torah into disrepute in people’s eyes.[23]
ואגלה להדר”ג [הגרא”י אונטרמן] מה שבלבי: שמקום שיש מחלוקת הראשונים צריכים הרבנים להכריע נגד אותה הדעה, שהיא רחוקה מדעת הבריות וגורמת לזלזול וללעג נגד תוה”ק

Can anyone deny that in the dispute between R. Karo and R. Isserles, the sort of consideration R. Weinberg was referring to would force dayanim, even Sephardic dayanim, to decide in accord with R. Isserles? In today’s day and age, it would be simply incomprehensible to people that a man who regularly beats his wife cannot be forced to give her a get.
There is another noteworthy decision given by the Supreme Rabbinic Court, again consisting of Rabbis Yitzhak Nissim, Bezalel Zolty, and Yosef Shalom Elyashiv.[24] The case was that a married man left his first wife and married another wife. The problem was that he never divorced the first wife, making him a bigamist. Furthermore, he refused to give his first wife a get. The woman therefore turned to the Beit Din asking them to force him to do so. The conclusion of the Beit Din was that while in this case, as opposed to the ones we saw earlier, the man was indeed obligated to divorce his wife, nevertheless the Beit Din could not force him to do so. Since the Beit Din ruled that he was obligated to give the get, his not doing so would make the woman an agunah in the eyes of the court. But since the Beit Din felt that it was unable to force the man to issue the get, who knows how long (maybe her entire life) the woman was forced to remain an agunah. Unfortunately for the woman, R. Shaul Yisraeli, also a member of the Supreme Rabbinic Court, was not one of the dayanim in this case, since he wrote to R. Elyashiv arguing that the court should indeed force the husband to give the get.[25]
Since I mentioned R. Weinberg earlier in this post, take a look at this responsum from Seridei Esh, vol. 3, no. 29.
R. Weinberg was asked about a man who was sent to jail for sexual abuse of young girls. Understandably, his wife wanted a divorce. The rabbi didn’t know what to do and therefore wrote to R. Weinberg. He mentions that he never had to deal with a case of sexual abuse and doesn’t know how to relate to it from a Jewish law perspective. He also assumes that there was no actual sexual relations but only fondling.
R. Weinberg, relying on the Hakham Zvi, states that the husband cannot be forced to divorce his wife, since he was never warned and there was no testimony in a beit din. He also says that one cannot rely on testimony given in a secular court, and makes the valid point that during that time, the Nazi era, there was a great deal of anti-Semitism and pleasure in making the Jews look bad.
None of this could have been of much comfort to the woman. We have no idea about her relationship with her husband. She might have already suspected him of being a pervert, or when he was arrested it might have clarified certain things that she wondered about. She might have confronted him after the arrest and seeing his reaction to her questions she knew he was guilty. Whatever the case, she no longer wished to remain married to someone she believed to be a sexual abuser. R. Weinberg was as open-minded a posek as one could imagine, yet even he was of the opinion that the husband could not be compelled to divorce his wife.
Today, if someone accused of sexual abuse refused to issue his wife a get, rabbis in the United States would call for protests in front of his house. Yet R. Weinberg does not see this as warranted. I think one of the most difficult things for people to grasp in his responsum, and in that of the Hakham Zvi, is the need for the husband to be warned. We are not talking about sentencing him in a beit din, where warning is a technical requirement, but whether or not the woman wants to live with him any more. In the two cases we have just seen, the issues of concern to the wives are one man’s visits to a prostitute and the other’s sexual abuse of children. Neither wife cared if her husband was “warned” in beit din since the offense is the same to her either before or after the “warning”.
Nevertheless, the notion that the husband has to be warned is found elsewhere as well. For example, regarding a husband who beats his wife, R. Moses Isserles, Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 154:3, states that according to some such a man can be forced to give his wife a get. The Vilna Gaon explains, in words that lead to a liberal understanding of when a man can be forced to divorce his wife:
יש אומרים שכופין כו’: שאפילו על שאר דברים שאין לה צער כל כך כגון המדיר שלא תלך לבית אביה או לבית האבל כו’ [כתובות עא ע”ב] או שלא תשאל נפה וכברה כו’ [שם, עב ע”א], כל שכן במצערה בגופה. תשובת הרמב”ן סימן ק”ב.
Yet after stating that some say that a man who beats his wife can be forced to divorce her (an opinion he himself held, as we saw earlier in the quotation from Darkhei Moshe [26]), R. Isserles adds that a prior warning is required: ובלבד שמתרין בו תחילה פעם אחת או שתים.

Now that we have seen some of the real halakhic difficulties that stand at the center of the so-called agunah problem, in the next post I will offer a simple suggestion that I think can solve at least some of the cases.

2. Someone who read my earlier posts that discussed various punishments ordered by Jewish courts asked me about a quotation from R. Shlomo Yaffe, dean of the Institute of American and Talmudic Law, which offers a different perspective. See here. Before even getting to the particular quotation, let me say that I have real problems with some of what was said (or at least reported to have been said) at the recent conference on Jewish law reported on the link just given. For example, Rabbi Yaffe was asked, “If there were no First Amendment would we still have the freedom of speech?” The only correct answer has to be that without the First Amendment our freedom of speech will be endangered, and it could even become illegal to speak publicly about certain laws in the Torah (e.g., homosexuality), as this could be categorized as “hate speech”. But instead, Rabbi Yaffe replied: “Absolutely . . . We know that God had freedom of speech. He spoke and the world came into being. . . . We have free will and the ability to express ourselves.” How does this bit of darshanut answer a serious question about the importance of the First Amendment?
Professor Jeremy Waldron stated at the conference, “People have a right to be protected from vicious defamations upon them on account of their religion. So if somebody says, ‘All Muslims are terrorists,’ we believe [Muslims] have a right to be protected against that defamation.”[27] This is exactly why we need a First Amendment and why free speech must be protected. If it became illegal for some idiot to say, “All Muslims are terrorists,” then the next thing would be punishing people for saying that “Muslims are more likely to support terrorism than adherents of other religions,” and bans on the drawing of Muhammad’s picture and insulting the Prophet would not be far behind because after all, these are viewed by Muslims as defamations of their religion. (Muslims in Europe have already demanded that those insulting Muhammad not be protected by free speech laws.)
In other words, giving an inch in this matter would open up the floodgates and would be the end of free speech in America. As I already mentioned, this would also be a big problem for the traditional Jewish community, since it is only the constitutional guarantee of free speech that prevents “progressive” groups from legislating against “hate speech” found in religious communities. Based on the quote from Waldron, I would assume that he is a supporter of the “speech codes” that at one time were so popular at universities, until people began to realize the stifling effect they actually had on free speech. For those who are having trouble remembering what they learnt so many years ago: The First Amendment was created precisely in order to protect unpopular speech.
The particular quote from Rabbi Yaffe that I was asked about is the following: “In general, Jewish law and tradition are extremely opposed to incarceration as fundamentally immoral unless it is to protect someone from inflicting real harm on another human being.” What this means is that incarceration is only designed to protect the innocent, but Jewish law and tradition does not recognize incarceration as a means of punishment. This statement is simply false. Let us remember that incarceration must be seen as an improvement over the physical punishments I have detailed in earlier posts. Given the choice between lashing people and mutilating them, certainly incarceration is preferable. (See also what I wrote here.) As for incarceration itself, the Rambam states as follows in Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Sanhedrin 24:9:
יש לכפות ידיים ורגליים ולאסור בבית האסורין
What this means is that a judge may bind a prisoner’s hands and feet and may imprison him. Punishment is one of the reasons that this is done, as Maimonides explains ibid. 24:10. Although there is nothing in the Torah about imprisonment, it was used as a punishment throughout Jewish history.[28] Simhah Assaf, who writes a good deal about Jewish prisons in Ha-Onshin Aharei Hatimat ha-Talmud, pp. 25ff, informs us that such prisons were found in Babylonia, Spain, Italy, Moravia, Poland, and Lithuania. One can also add Hungary and Bohemia to this list. According to Assaf, it is only in France and Germany that we don’t find Jewish prisons.[29] In addition to actual prisons, we also find something else: 

A symbolic imprisonment, which served as a means for expiation as well as one of humiliation and embarrassment, consisted of shackling a suspected murderer, for example, during a service. He was to have his hands as well as his body chained. This was apparently a tradition received from R. Judah the Pious.[30]

[1] See R. J. David Bleich’s discussion of get zikui in Tradition 35:4 (2001), available here. See also the responsum of R. Solomon David Kahane in Sefer ha-Yovel Karnot Tzaddik (Kefar Habad, 1992), pp. 253ff. For the Safed beit din’s decision to issue a get to a woman whose husband was in a vegetative state, see here, and see the beit din’s defense of its decision here. An entire book was published in opposition to this decision; see here.
[2] Vol. 2, p. 236.
[3] Vol. 3, p. xi.
[4] See Sinai 60 (1967), p. 319.
[5] See Havlin in Ha-Ma’yan (Tevet 5728), pp. 33-34 n. 14.
[6] In previous posts I have cited numerous examples that show that the notion that men and women are equal is also a modern idea. The standard traditional view was that a woman is secondary to her husband and under his authority. I mention this here only because I recently found a very interesting formulation that is relevant to what we will be discussing. In R. Hayyim Aryeh Leib ben Joseph Hayyim, Sha’ar Bat Rabim (Warsaw, 1900), parashat Tazria, p. 24a-b, he explains why a woman, who is “enslaved to her husband as a slave,” does not choose to run away like other slaves do.
והוא ימשול בך: לעבוד עבודתו. ואעפ”י שהיא משועבדת לבעל כעבד ודרך העבד לברוח מאדונו כדי שלא להשתעבד מ”מ גזר ה’ עלי’ שתחפוץ להשתעבד לבעלה כשפחה מדה כנגד מדה כי חוה נתנה גם לבעלה ויאכל במצותה לכן נענשה שלא תהיה היא עוד מצוה עליו אלא הוא יצוה עלי’ כל רצונו כן כתב רמב”ן.

[7] Mishneh TorahHilkhot Ishut 14:8.
[8] Sefer Nashim, vol. 1, pp. 306-307.
[9] See Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 77:2.
[10] Piskei Din shel Batei Din ha-Rabaniyim be-Yisrael, vol.  7, p. 3 (emphasis in original).
[11] Ha-Measef 9 (5664), nos. 1, 24.
[12] Ha-Measef 9 (5664), p. 1b. Many of his words are taken from She’elot u-Teshuvot ha-Rosh 43:8.
[13] Piskei Din shel Batei Din ha-Rabaniyim be-Yisrael, vol. 1, p. 139. R. Eliezer Waldenberg had a different approach. See Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 4, p. 109:
מכל האמור יש כר נרחב לדון בדבר כפיה לגרש במקום שישנו בטענת המאיס עלי אמתלא מבוררת, ובית הדין רואה צורך השעה לכוף את הבעל לגרש כדי שלא תצא האשה לתרבות רעה.
[14] Piskei Din shel Batei Din ha-Rabaniyim be-Yisrael, vol. 1, p. 141. A decision directly opposed to this was given in 1979 by the Supreme Rabbinical Court. The dayanim were R. Mordechai Eliyahu, R. Joseph Kafih, and R. Shaul Yisraeli. See Piskei Din shel Batei Din ha-Rabaniyim be-Yisrael, vol. 12, p. 25:
אפילו אם נעשה “רועה זונות” לאחר שאשתו עזבה אותו אין לחייבה לחזור ולחיות אמו.

[15] The Sefer Agudah’s ruling is cited in R. Moses Isserles, Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 154:1. However, R. Isserles does not provide the Sefer Agudah’s reason, only his conclusion that a man who visits prostitutes can be forced to divorce his wife.
[16] It appears that the Arukh ha-Shulhan derived reason 2 from a formulation in the Sefer Agudah. However, R. Yosef Goldberg argues that the Arukh ha-Shulhan is mistaken and that the Sefer Agudah cannot be seen as a source for this reason. See Goldberg, “Teviat Ishah le-Hayev et Ba’alah be-Get,” Zekhor le-Avraham  (2000), vol. 2, pp. 669ff.
[17] See also R. Simeon ben Zemah Durah, She’elot u-Teshuvot Tashbetz, vol. 2, no. 8:
ואפילו לכוף אותו להוציא יש לדון מקל וחומר דבעל פוליפוס, דהשתא מפני ריח הפה כופין, מפני צער תדיר שהוא מר ממות לא כל שכן.

[18] Piskei Din shel Batei ha-Din ha-Rabaniyim be-Yisrael, vol. 8, p. 254.
[19] For a detailed discussion of the matter, see R. Avishai Teherani, Amudei Mishpat, vol. 1, Even ha-Ezer, no. 12. R. Teherani’s own conclusion is as follows:
המכה את אשתו, ואין סכנת נפשות לאשה, אין כופין אותו להוציא, שיש לחוש שלא נכשל בגט מעושה, אכן אם יש לאשה סכנת נפשות אמיתית, כופין אותו לגרשה בטרם יהרגנה, ויש לדיין ליתן עיניו בזה הרבה, כי כבר היו מעשים מעולם [!] ברצח האשה
(emphasis added). This is hardly a position that will find a sympathetic ear among most contemporary Orthodox Jews. R. Hanan Aflalo, Asher Hanan, vols. 3-4, no. 77, adopts an entirely different tone. With regard to the matter of a woman who wants a divorce because her husband visited prostitutes, unlike the decisions already mentioned, R Aflalo shows a real understanding of how a modern woman relates to this sort of thing. He writes as follows (p. 421):  
מאסה בו על עצם המחשבה שגופו היה דבק בגופן של נשים אחרות במעשה הניאוף והטינוף שבו, ובכך נגעלת מעצם המחשבה לכך לחזור עמו לחיי אישות ולשלום בית. ובאמת שמילים וטענות אלו יש בהם ממש.
R. Uriel Lavi, av beit din of the Safed beit din that issued the controversial get to a woman whose husband was in a vegetative state (see note 1), and who has been villified in the haredi world and through their pressure kept off the Supreme Rabbinic Court (see here), has the same sympathetic approach as R. Aflalo. See his Ateret Devorah, vol. 2, p. 644:
חיוב הבעל בגט הוא מפני המאיסות שבמעשיו. אמנם בעלמא באומרת מאיס עלי אין כופין גירושין, אך כשמאיסות זו היא כה חמורה ונובעת ממעשיו הנלוזים של הבעל, ואין זו בעיה חריגה של האשה, אלא מאיסות המוכרת והמקובלת בנסיבות אלו אצל כל הנשים, יש לכפות את הבעל.
It is precisely rabbis with this type of modern understanding that can provide a solution to the problem we have been discussing, as we will see in the next post.
[20] Beit Yosef, Even ha-Ezer 154 end, s.v.מצאתי בתשובת רבינו שמחה 
[21] Darkhei Moshe, Even ha-Ezer 154:21 (The text is from the Machon Yerushalayim edition which has added material from Darkhei Moshe ha-Arokh).
[22] R. Isserles also adds the following which is relevant to recent events in which a number of people were sentenced to prison for kidnapping and torturing men who refused to give a get.
נראה דטוב שלא לכופו ליתן גט אלא בדרך זה להחרימו או לתופסו בידי גוים או בשוטים שלא להכותה או שיוציא ויתן גט ובדרך זה לא מיקרי כפייה על הגט רק לקיים מה שמחוייב לעשות.
[23] Kitvei ha-Gaon Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, vol. 1, p. 60.
[24] Piskei Din shel Batei ha-Din ha-Rabaniyim be-Yisrael, vol. 7, p. 65.
[25] Mishpetei Shaul, no. 34
[26] For a detailed discussion regarding whether the beit din can force a wife beater to divorce his wife, see R. Isaac ben Walid, Va-Yomer Yitzhak, vol. 1, no. 135.
[27] If someone said, “All NRA members are terrorists,” would Waldron think that NRA members also have a right to be protected against that defamation? And if not, why not? What possible legal distinction is there between belonging to a religion and belonging to an organization?
[28] See R. Yehoshua Inbal, Torah she-Ba’al Peh (Jerusalem, 2015), p. 215.
[29] Assaf, Ha-Onshin, p. 25.
[30] Eric Zimmer, Harmony and Discord (New York, 1970), p. 93.



A Picture and its One Thousand Words: The Old Jewish Cemetery of Vilna Revisited*

A Picture and its One Thousand Words: The Old Jewish Cemetery of Vilna Revisited*
by Shnayer Leiman
A. The Photograph.
            Recently, I had occasion to publish the above photograph – a treasure that offers a glimpse of what the old Jewish cemetery of Vilna looked like in the inter-war period.[1] Indeed, it captures the oldest portion of the rabbinic section of the old Jewish cemetery. The purpose of this essay is to identify the persons buried here and – where possible – to reconstruct and print the epitaphs on their tombstones. Seven partially legible inscriptions can be seen by the naked eye, as one moves from left to right across the photograph. An empty frame that once held a tombstone can be seen in the center of the photograph, as well. With the aid of a magnifying glass, as well as literary evidence, we shall attempt to identify all those buried here and to restore the full texts of their epitaphs. In effect, we shall engage in a virtual tour of a Jewish cemetery that – sadly — exists today almost entirely underground.
            Briefly, the old Jewish cemetery was the first Jewish cemetery established in Vilna. According to Vilna Jewish tradition, it was founded in 1487. Modern scholars, based on extant documentary evidence, date the founding of the cemetery to 1593, but admit than an earlier date for its founding cannot be ruled out.[2] The cemetery, still standing today (but denuded of its tombstones), lies just north of the center of the city of Vilna, across the Neris (formerly: the Vilia) River, in the section of Vilna called Shnipishkes (Yiddish: Shnipishok). It is across the river from, and just opposite , one of Vilna’s most significant landmarks, Castle Hill with its Gediminas Tower. The cemetery was known as the Piramont[3] cemetery, also (in Yiddish) as der alter feld or der alter beys eylam [so in Lithuanian Yiddish; in Ashkenazic Yiddish: beys oylom]. It was in use from the year it was founded until 1831, when it was officially closed by the municipal authorities. Although burials no longer were possible in the old Jewish cemetery, it became a pilgrimage site, and thousands of Jews visited annually the graves of the many righteous heroes and rabbis buried there, especially the graves of the Ger Tzedek (Avraham b. Avraham, also known as Graf Potocki, d. 1749), the Gaon of Vilna (R. Eliyahu b. Shlomo, d. 1797), and the Hayye Adam (R. Avraham Danzig, d. 1820). Such visits still took place even after World War II.[4]
            The cemetery, more or less rectangular in shape, was spread over a narrow portion of a sloped hill, the bottom of the hill almost bordering on the Neris River.[5] The photograph captures some of the oldest mausoleums and graves at exactly that spot, i.e. at the bottom of the hill almost bordering on the Neris River. The tombstone inscriptions face north, toward the top of the hill. As one moves from  left to right across the photograph, one is in effect moving uphill toward the entrance of the cemetery, a gate built into the northern portion of the cemetery fence.[6] We shall move from left to right, and begin with the first tombstone inscription.
1. R. Menahem Manes Chajes (1560-1636).
R. Menahem Manes was among the earliest Chief Rabbis of Vilna. Indeed, his grave was the oldest extant grave in the Jewish cemetery, when Jewish historians first began to record its epitaphs in the nineteenth century.[7] R. Menahem Manes’ father, R. Yitzchok Chajes (d. 1615), was a prolific author who served as Chief Rabbi of Prague. Like his father, R. Menahem Manes published several works in his lifetime, including a dirge entitled סליחה על שני קדושים  (Lublin, 1596)[8]; a treatise in rhyme encompassing all the laws of ערב שבת, entitled קבלת שבת (Lublin, 1621)[9]; and left still other works in manuscript form (e.g., a commentary on פרשת בלק, entitled דרך תמימים, now in the Bodleian Library at Oxford University).[10] His epitaph reads:[11]
2. R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen (ca. 1770-1825).

 

Son of the Chief Rabbi of Brisk, R. Yosef Katzenellenbogen,[12] R. Shaul frequented Vilna as a youth in order to converse with the Gaon of Vilna. After meeting with the young Shaul, the Gaon purportedly said: “ראה זה רך בשנים וטעם זקנים מלא”.[13] Ultimately, R. Shaul settled in Vilna where he served with distinction as a מורה צדק. Influenced by the Gaon’s methodology and piety, it is no coincidence that he was asked to write letters of approbation for the first printed editions of works by the Gaon[14] and by (and about) his favorite disciples, R. Shlomo Zalman[15] (d. 1788) and his brother R. Hayyim of Volozhin[16] (d. 1821). R. Shaul’s glosses on the Talmud are included in the definitive edition of the BabylonianTalmud (ed. Romm Publishing Co.: Vilna, 1880-1886). He left an indelible impression on all who knew him; and especially on his students, among them R. David Luria[17] (d. 1855) and R. Samuel Strashun[18] (d. 1872) – two of the leading rabbinic scholars of 19th century Lithuania. He was honored at his death by being buried next to some of Vilna’s greatest rabbis, despite the fact that he was one of the last rabbis buried in the old Jewish cemetery. In 1826, a kloyz was established in Vilna in his memory. Called “Reb Shaulke’s [probably pronounced: Shoelke’s or Sheyelke’s] kloyz,” it remained in continuous use until, and even during, the Holocaust.[19]
The inscription that can be seen on the photograph reads:

 

This is simply an informational sign (almost certainly of early 20th century origin) that indicates to the visitor that R. Shaul was buried in this mausoleum. In fact, he was buried between R. Menahem Manes Chajes (d. 1636) and R. Moshe Rivkes (d. 1672), author of באר הגולה, and ancestor of the Vilna Gaon. His tombstone inscription, not visible in the photograph, reads:[20]
3.     R. Moshe, Dayyan of Vilna (ca. 1670-1740).
Little is known about R. Moshe, other than – as indicated on his epitaph – he served with distinction as a dayyan in Vilna.[21] Some of his Torah teachings are preserved in his son R. David’s, מצודת דוד (Altona, 1736).[22] R. Moshe was popularly known as “R. Moshe Charaz,” חר”ז being an abbreviation for חתן ר’ זאלקינד “son-in-law of R. Zalkind.” R. Zalkind should probably be identified with R. Shlomo Zalkind b. Barukh, who lived in the second half of the 17th century, and was a respected lay leader of Vilna’s Jewish community.[23] R. Moshe’s epitaph stands outside a second mausoleum, with its own entrance, separate from the first mausoleum (where R. Menahem Manes Chajes, R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen, and R. Moshe Rivkes were buried). The epitaph reads:[24]

 

4. R. Hillel b. Yonah (d. 1706).
The empty frame in the third mausoleum from the left held a wooden tombstone that existed into the 20th century.[25] Before it was removed for repair, it was photographed in situ, and the photograph was preserved at the Ansky Museum in Vilna. The photograph was published just prior to the onset of World War II.[26] The epitaph on the tombstone commemorates the life and death of R. Hillel b. Yonah, Chief Rabbi of Vilna, and his wife Rachel (d. 1710). They were the only occupants of the third mausoleum. R. Hillel served as Chief Rabbi of Chelm prior to his appointment as Chief Rabbi of Vilna in 1688. Some of his Torah teachings are preserved in R. David b. R. Moshe’s מצודת דוד (Altona, 1736).[27] The joint epitaph reads:[28]
5. R. Moshe Darshan (d. 1726).
R. Moshe Darshan was born in Vilna in 1641. His father, R. Hillel b. Naftali Hertz, was the celebrated author of בית הלל (on Shulhan Arukh Yoeh De’ah and Even ha-Ezer), who served on the rabbinic court of R. Moshe b. Yitzchok Yehuda Lima of Vilna (author of  חלקת מחוקק on Shulhan Arukh Even ha-Ezer) from 1651-1666, and later served as Chief Rabbi of Altona-Hamburg, and then Zolkiev.[29] R. Moshe was appointed ראש בית דין and דרשן of Vilna and served in that capacity until his death. His epitaph reads:[30]
6. R. Yaakov Kahana (d. 1826).[31]
R. Yaakov b. R. Avraham Kahana, a disciple of the Vilna Gaon, was the son-in-law of R. Yissakhar Ber (d. 1807), a brother of the Vilna Gaon.  Supported regally by his father-in-law, R. Yaakov suddenly found himself without support upon the death of his father-in-law. The Vilna kehilla immediately appointed him trustee of its various charities, in order to provide him with a dignified income, while enabling him to continue his pursuit of Torah study. R. Yaakov authored a classic commentary on B. Eruvin, גאון יעקב (Lemberg, 1863 and later editions).[32] His epitaph reads:[33]
7. R. Eliyahu Hasid (d. 1710).
R. Eliyahu was the son of R. Moshe b. David Kramer, who served as Chief Rabbi of Vilna from 1673 to 1687.[34] R. Eliyahu served as an administrator of Vilna’s צדקה גדולה and also as a dayyan. He was a great-grandfather of the Vilna Gaon, and the Gaon was named after him.[35] The epitaph reads:[36]
8. R. Yosef b. Elyah (d. 1718).
A communal leader (ראש, אלוף, מנהיג) in Vilna about whom little else is known.[37] That he was buried in proximity to R. Eliyahu Hasid (d. 1710), and that at a later date R. Moshe Darshan (d. 1726) was buried in proximity to him, is sufficient proof of his prominence, perhaps in wisdom and certainly in wealth. His epitaph reads:[38]
————————-
B. A Visit to the Old Jewish Cemetery in 1940.
            Known affectionately as “Reb Dovid,” Rabbi Meshulam Dovid Soloveitchik is currently Rosh Yeshiva of the Brisk Yeshiva in the Givat Moshe (also called: Gush Shemonim) section of Jerusalem. A descendant of R. Hayyim of Volozhin (d. 1821), and a scion of the Soloveitchik dynasty – his grandfather was R. Hayyim Soloveitchik (d. 1918), Rosh Yeshiva of Volozhin and Chief Rabbi of Brisk; and his father was R. Yitzchok Zev Soloveitchik (d. 1959), last Chief Rabbi of Brisk, and founder of the Brisk dynasty in Jerusalem) – he is a leader of the Haredi community in Israel.
A still active nonagenarian, he was born circa 1923. Upon the outbreak of World War II, he fled from Brisk and made his way to Vilna, which – largely due to the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact of August 23, 1939, and Stalin’s subsequent decision to hand Vilna over to  Lithuania – became the newly recognized capital of Independent Lithuania. Reb Dovid, a teenager at the time, resided in Vilna from October 22, 1939 through January 19, 1941, when together with his father (and other members of the family), he embarked on the arduous and dangerous journey that would bring him to the land of Israel, where the family ultimately settled.[39]
            Some 15 volumes of Reb Dovid’s teachings have appeared in print, many under the title: שיעורי רבנו משולם דוד הלוי. These are transcriptions of his lectures as recorded by his students, with focus primarily on Torah and Talmud commentary. One of the volumes, however, includes a riveting account – in R. Dovid’s own words – of how he managed to survive the Holocaust. The memoir includes a brief description of a visit he made to the old Jewish cemetery in Vilna in 1940.[40] The passage reads:[41]

“When in Vilna, I went several times to visit the cemetery where the Vilna Gaon was buried, but it was closed. The gate was kept locked because burials no longer took place in the old Jewish cemetery, which was inside the city limits. Burials now took place in another cemetery [Zaretcha] which was outside the city limits.[42] Moreover, the caretaker who had the keys [to the old Jewish cemetery] lived far from the cemetery. Once, however, I came to the cemetery and found the gate open and went in to visit the Vilna Gaon’s grave. On my way to the grave, I passed an ancient tombstone with the words משיח ה’ inscribed on its epitaph.[43] I could not understand what this signified and who was buried there.[44] From there I reached the Vilna Gaon’s grave, and nearby, the grave of R. Avraham the Ger Tzedek. (At some later date, I chanced upon a pamphlet which contained a eulogy by R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen,[45] of blessed memory, over the author of Ha-Pardes.[46] In this pamphlet about the author of Ha- Pardes, it is stated that when he died a search was made in the old Jewish cemetery for a place where he could be buried. One empty plot was found, to the right of which was buried [R. Moshe Rivkes] the author of Be’er Ha-Golah, and to the left of which was buried R. Manes משיח ה’. Since no one had been buried in the empty plot next to these rabbis for some 85 years,[47] a rabbinic court was convened to decide whether the plot could be used now for the author of Ha-Pardes. The decision was that he should be buried between the two rabbis. They explained that it was a special privilege for the author of Ha-Pardes to be buried next to these righteous persons, and went on to describe the righteousness and piety of R. Manes משיח ה’. It seems likely that this was the tombstone I saw with the words משיח ה’ on its epitaph.”

This delightful account offers important testimony regarding what a living witness observed during a visit to the old Jewish cemetery in Vilna in 1940. On his way to the Vilna Gaon’s grave, R. Dovid saw a tombstone with the words משיח ה’ inscribed on its epitaph. The reference, of course, is to the grave of R. Menahem Manes Chajes (see above, epitaph 1). It is indeed nearby to the Gaon’s mausoleum, and one could easily stop to see it on the way to the Gaon’s grave. The alert reader will surely wonder why in the photograph taken in the inter-war period, which includes the epitaph of R. Menahem Manes Chajes, one cannot make out the words משיח ה’, whereas R. Dovid testifies that in 1940 it was precisely those words that caught his attention. The answer, I believe, is provided by another photograph of R. Menachem Manes Chajes’ epitaph taken in the summer of 1936.[48]
It too, at first glance, seems to have the words משיח ה’ erased. But if one examines the photograph closely, one can make out the words משיח ה’. The white paint that once covered these etched letters has been chipped off. The inter-war photograph, a “group” photograph taken from a distance, could not capture the etched letters that now appeared as black on black. The naked eye of a human being, however, could pick up the etched stone letters that read משיח ה’. So too, a close up photograph of the Chajes epitaph alone, taken in 1936.
R. Dovid adds that, subsequently, he chanced upon a pamphlet that helped him identify the epitaph he had seen. The pamphlet contained a eulogy by R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen over the author of Ha-Pardes, who apparently died in Vilna. Initially, an appropriate burial place could not be found for him in the old Jewish cemetery. But after much search, an empty plot was found between R. Manes משיח ה’ and [R. Moshe Rivkes,] the author of Be’er Ha-Golah. Since no one had been buried in proximity to these rabbis for some 85 years, a rabbinical court had to convene in order to decide the issue. The ruling was in favor of the burial, and special mention was made of the piety of R. Manes משיח ה’, which clearly identified the epitaph that R. Dovid had seen.
            Sadly, I have not succeeded in locating such a pamphlet. If indeed R. Dovid saw such a pamphlet, he cannot be faulted for summarizing its content. It certainly enabled him to identify the epitaph as belonging to the tombstone of R. Menahem Manes Chajes. But problems abound. R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen (see above, epitaph 2) died in 1825. He wrote no pamphlets and published no eulogies. The author of Ha-Pardes was R. Aryeh Leib Epstein, chief Rabbi of Koenigsberg (today: Kaliningrad).[49] He died in 1775 and was buried in Koenigsberg.[50] Thus, R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen, five years old at the time, could not have published a eulogy over him. In fact, it was R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen (as described above in epitaph 2) – and not the author of Ha-Pardes – who was buried between R. Menahem Manes Chajes and R. Moshe Rivkes.
            One suspects that the pamphlet R. Dovid chanced upon was R. Zvi Hirsch Katzenellenbogen’s גבעת שאול (Vilna and Grodno, 1825).
The author, a devoted disciple of R. Shaul,[51] published a eulogy upon the death of his teacher. He writes:[52]

“On the day of his [R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen’s] burial, an oracle was heard – a voice without pause[53]  – that an empty plot had been found between R. Moshe Rivkes, author of Be’er Ha-Golah and the Gaon R. Manes Chajes (who was depicted on his tombstone as משיח ה’, already so in the early generations, in the year [5]386 [= 1626],[54] even aside from the seven virtues listed by the Sages that characterize all great individuals[55]). In that section of the cemetery, the gravediggers did not dare to dig a grave during the last 85 years, for they feared for their lives. For that section of the cemetery was filled with holy and pious Jews.[56] But due to an agreement of the Moreh Zedek’s of our community, they began digging and found an empty plot waiting for this righteous Rabbi’s remains since the week of Creation.

            Here – and apparently in no other pamphlet – we have all the basic elements in R. Dovid’s account, with one glaring exception. Nothing is mentioned about the author of Ha-Pardes, R. Aryeh Leib Epstein. As indicated above, the author of Ha-Pardes in any event had nothing to do with a burial in Vilna. He lived at the wrong time (when empty plots were still available throughout the old Jewish cemetery) and died and was buried in the wrong place (in Koenigsberg). It is possible that we have in R. Dovid’s account a conflation of two unrelated pamphlets, each named גבעת שאול. Aside from R. Zvi Hirsch Katzenellenbogen’s גבעת שאול (cited above), a pamphlet with the exact same title, and also offering a eulogy, was authored by R. Shemariah Yosef Karelitz (d. 1917).[57]
The pamphlet, גבעת שאול (Warsaw, 1892), was a eulogy over Karelitz’ father-in-law, whose name also happened to be R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen (1828-1892), and who had served with distinction as rabbi of Kossovo and then Kobrin (both today in Belarus). This second R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen was a descendant of R. Aryeh Leib Epstein, author of Ha-Pardes. Indeed, on the first title page of Karelitz’ גבעת שאול, R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen is described in bold letters as a member of the Epstein family. On the second title page, he is described in bold letters as a descendant of “R. Aryeh Leib Epstein, author of Ha-Pardes.”
[
            In sum, R. Dovid’s account provides impeccable testimony that the epitaph on the tombstone of R. Menahem Manes Chajes – the oldest tombstone preserved in the old Jewish cemetery – could still be visited and read in 1940.[58] What he claims to have read in a pamphlet at some later date remains problematic and requires further investigation or, as the later commentators would have put it, צריך עיון.
In memory of Khaykl Lunski (ca. 1881-1943), fabled librarian of the Strashun Library, who was the embodiment of the very soul of Jewish Vilna. His last essay – a study of the faded tombstone inscriptions in Vilna’s old Jewish cemetery – was written in the Vilna Jewish ghetto created by the Nazis. It perished together with him during the Holocaust. See Shmerke Kaczerginski, חורבן ווילנע (New York, 1947), p. 198 (henceforth: Kaczerginski). Cf. Hirsz Abramowicz, Profiles of a Lost World (Detroit, 1999), p. 264. Kaczerginski’s description of Lunski’s last years in the Vilna ghetto are worth citing here:
Khaykl Lunski (ca. 1881-1943)
NOTES:

[1] Sid Z. Leiman, “Lithuanian Government Announces Construction of a $25,000,000 Convention Center in the Center of Vilna’s Oldest Jewish Cemetery,” The Seforim Blog, September 13, 2015, available online here, reprinted here. A similar photograph (from a slightly different angle) appears in Leyzer Ran, Jerusalem of Lithuania (New York, 1974), vol. 1, p. 100 (henceforth: Ran). Alas, its lack of clarity renders it mostly useless.
[2] See Israel Klausner, קורות בית-העלמין הישן בוילנה (Vilna, 1935; reissued: Jerusalem, 1972), pp. 3-5 (henceforth: Klausner). Cf. Elmantas Meilus, “The History of the Old Jewish Cemetery at Šnipiškes in the Period of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania,” Lithuanian Historical Studies 12 (2007), pp. 64-67 (henceforth: Meilus).
[3] It was originally called “Pioromont,” because the old Jewish cemetery was adjacent to a street and neighborhood named after Stanislav Pior, an 18th century starosta who owned land in the area (Meilus, p. 88).
[4] See, e.g., the testimony of Chaim Basok, who together with Rabbi Kalman Farber visited the Vilna Gaon’s grave in the old Jewish cemetery at Piramont after Vilna was liberated by the Russian army in 1944. See Kalman Farber, אולקניקי ראדין וילנא (Jerusalem, 2007), p. 413. I have personally interviewed several former residents of Vilna who visited the Gaon’s grave in the old Jewish cemetery at Piramont between 1945 and 1948.
[5] A detailed map of the cemetery, as it appeared in 1935, is appended to Klausner.
[6] For an artist’s depiction of the gate at the northern entrance to the cemetery, see Sholom Zelmanovitch, דער גר-צדק ווילנער גראף פאטאצקי (Kovno, 1934), opposite p. 44. Notice Castle Hill at the upper right hand corner of the sketch; the inscription above the gate, והקיצו לקץ הימין; and the inscriptions on the sides of the gate, בית עולם ווילנא and zydu kapines. Here is the sketch:
[7] See, e.g., Shmuel Yosef Fuenn, קריה נאמנה (Vilna, 1860), p. 63 (henceforth: Fuenn 1860). Cf. the second and revised edition of קריה נאמנה (Vilna, 1915), p. 67 (henceforth: Fuenn 1915).
[8] Yeshayahu Vinograd, אוצר ספר העברי (Jerusalem, 1994), vol. 2, p. 359, entry 65.
[9] See Moshe Dovid Chechik, “ מהר”ר מנחם מאניש חיות וספר קבלת שבת,” ישורון 17(2006), pp. 668-691.
[10] Adolf Neubauer, Catalogue of the Hebrew Manuscripts in the Bodleian Library and in the College Libraries of Oxford (Oxford, 1886), column 59, entry 293.
[11] We have attempted to transcribe the Hebrew texts exactly as they appear in the photograph. We add in brackets the reconstruction of letters and words that in all likelihood once appeared in the original texts, but were no longer visible when the photograph was taken. For other photographs of the epitaph, see Klausner, p. 36; Zalman Szyk,   יאר ווילנע 1000 (Vilna, 1939), pp. 408 and 416 (henceforth: Szyk); Ran,  vol. 1, p. 101 ; and Reuben Selevan, A Trip to Remember: New York to Europe 1936 (New York, 2009), p. 113. The reconstructions are based mostly on the earlier transcriptions of the epitaphs in Fuenn and Klausner.
Over the years, some of the epitaphs were redone, and the reconstructed texts are often faulty. Enlarged and/or dotted letters (signaling acrostics, names, or dates) were sometimes made small and the dots were omitted. Small letters were sometimes enlarged. Letters and words were added or dropped when a partially erased word could no longer be read. Thus, for example, the first three words of R. Menahem Manes Chajes’ epitaph (in the photograph) read: פה נטמן בו, an impossible construction in Hebrew. It is obvious that one or more words are missing from the opening line of the epitaph. It is also evident the first lines form an acrostic spelling out his name: מנחם מאנש. When the epitaphs were redone, the original line divisions were not always retained. For the letters in bold relating to the year of his death (קדרו ושמים), see below, note 54.  Based upon the earlier transcriptions in Fuenn (Fuenn 1860, p. 63; Fuenn 1915, p. 67) and Klausner (pp. 36-39), and a measure of common sense, the original epitaph probably read:
[12] R. Shaul was also the brother of his father’s successor in the rabbinate of Brisk, R. Aryeh Leib (d. 1837). See Aryeh Leib Feinstein,
עיר תהלה (Warsaw, 1886), p. 30.
[13] Abraham Dov Baer ha-Kohen Lebensohn, אבל כבד (Vilna, 1825), section “תולדות הנאון,” p. 2.
[14] See ספרא דצניעותא (Vilna and Grodno,1820), page following title page.  
[15] See R. Yehezkel Feivel, תולדות אדם (Dyhernfurth, 1809), vol. 2, page following title page.
[16] See R. Hayyim of Volozhin, נפש החיים (Vilna and Grodno, 1824), page following title page.
[17] Samuel Luria, “תולדות הרד”ל,” in R. David Luria, קדמות ספר הזהר (New York, 1951), pp. 12-14.
[18] See Hillel Noah Maggid Steinschneider, עיר ווילנא (Vilna, 1900), vol. 1, p. 163.
[19] See Aliza Cohen-Mushlin, Sergey Kravtsov, Vladimir Levin, Giedrė Mickūnaitė, and Jurgita Šiaučiūnaitė-Verbickienė, Synagogues in Lithuania (Vilnius, 2012), vol. 2, p. 316, item 55. Cf. Ran, vol. 1, p. 112. (The alleged photograph of R. Shaulke’s kloyz in Ran is misidentified; cf. Synagogues in Lithuania, vol. 2, p. 348, n. 248.) The address of the kloyz was Szawelska (later: Žmudskij) [Yiddish: Shavli] 5 (today: Šiauliu 2). The original building no longer stands. During the Holocaust, the kloyz continued to serve as a prayer house and it housed a Yeshiva named in memory of R. Hayyim Ozer Grodzenski (d. 1940). See Kaczerginski, p. 209; cf. Zelig Kalmanovitch, יומן בגיטו וילנה (Tel-Aviv, 1977), pp. 83 and 100 (English edition: Zelig Kalmanovitch “A Diary of the Nazi Ghetto in Vilna,” Yivo Annual of Jewish Social Science 8[1953], pp. 30 and 47).
[20] Fuenn 1860, pp. 236-238; Fuenn 1915, pp. 237-239; Klausner, p. 75.
[21] See Fuenn 1860, p. 100; Fuenn 1915, p. 107; and cf. Klausner, pp. 43-44.
[22] See, e.g. מצודת דוד, pp. 3a, 7a, and 31a.
[23] Fuenn 1860, p. 107, paragraph 50, number 11; Fuenn 1915, p. 113, paragraph 51, number 11.
[24] The text of the epitaph was not recorded either by Fuenn or Klausner. However, it is easily restored by combining the general information they provide with the legible portions of the text in the photograph.
[25] There is good reason to believe that wooden tombstones once proliferated in the old Jewish cemetery, but they did not survive the ravages of time and circumstance. See, e.g., Klausner, p. 38 (who indicates that as late as 1810 the fee exacted by the חברא קדישא for stone tombstones was twice the amount exacted for wooden tombstones) and Szyk, p. 406 (who states that the majority of tombstones in the old Jewish cemetery were made of wood but did not survive). Only two wooden tombstones (in the old Jewish cemetery) survived into the twentieth century; those of R. Hillel b. Yonah and R. Yehoshua Heschel b. Saul, who served as Chief Rabbi of Vilna from circa 1725 until his death in 1749. For photographs of R. Yehoshua Heschel’s wooden tombstone, see Klausner, p. 52; Szyk, p. 416; and Ran, vol. 1, p. 101.
[26] Klausner, p. 42. Cf. Szyk, p. 416 and Ran, vol. 1, p. 100 (mostly illegible).
[27] See, e.g., מצודת דוד, p. 27a.
[28] Fuenn 1860, pp. 97-98; Fuenn 1915, pp. 104-105.
[29] See Eduard Duckesz, אוה למושב (Krakau, 1903), pp. 4-7.
[30] Fuenn 1860, pp. 99-100; Fuenn 1915, pp. 106-107; Klausner, p. 43.
[31]  Moving from left to right on the photograph, R. Yaakov Kahana’s tombstone (tombstone 6) appears to the right of R. Moshe Darshan’s tombstone (tombstone 5). But as one walks uphill from the bottom to the top of the cemetery, one passes the three mausoleums, then the twin gravestones of R. Yaakov Kahana and R. Eliyahu Hasid (tombstone 7), and only then the grave of R. Moshe Darshan.
[32] For biographical information about R. Yaakov Kahana, see Fuenn 1860, p. 239; Fuenn 1915, pp. 239-240; and the third edition of Kahana’s גאון יעקב, entitled גאון יעקב השלם (Jerusalem, 1997), introductory pages. See also Yaakov Polskin, “ספר צוף דבש,” ישורון 4(1998), p. 270, notes 7-9.
[33] Here too, the photograph presents an empty frame. Only the opening lines (i.e. the marker identifying the grave) can still be read. The original epitaph is recorded in Fuenn 1860, p 240; Fuenn 1915, pp. 240-241. Klausner (p. 53) mentions Kahana’s grave but does not record the epitaph.
[34] For biographical information about R. Moshe Kramer, see Fuenn 1860, pp. 95-96; Fuenn 1915, pp. 102-103, and the references cited in the next note.
[35] See R. Avraham b. R. Eliyahu (the Gaon’s son), סערת אליהו (Vilna, 1889), p. 18. Cf. R. Yehoshua Heschel Levin, עליות אליהו (Vilna, 1885), p. 39, note 5.
[36] The opening lines (i.e. the marker identifying the grave) are painted on the upper portion of the tombstone. The epitaph is encased below the tombstone’s upper portion. For the epitaph, see Fuenn 1860, p. 99; Fuenn  1915, pp. 105-106; and Szyk, p. 408.
[37] See Fuenn 1860, p. 107; Fuenn 1915, p. 113.
[38] Here too the opening lines represent the marker identifying the grave, almost certainly added at a later date. For the epitaph, see Klausner, p. 43.      
[39] See  שיעורי רבנו משולם דוד הלוי: דרוש ואגדה (Jerusalem, 2014), pp. 390-396. For the date when R. Dovid left Vilna (January 19, 1941), we have followed Shimon Yosef Meller, הרב מבריסק (Jerusalem, 2003), vol. 1, p. 513.
[40] No precise date is provided by R. Dovid for his visit to the old Jewish cemetery. But since he arrived in Vilna on October 22, 1939, and his first attempts to visit the cemetery were thwarted, we assume the visit took place in 1940, the only full year he spent in Vilna. It is possible, however, that the visit took place late in 1939 or early in 1941.
[41] שיעורי רבנו משולם דוד הלוי: דרוש ואגדה (Jerusalem, 2014), pp. 393-394. The translation provided here is paraphrastic. The original Hebrew text reads:
[42] In 1940, Jewish burials were still taking place in Zaretcha, the successor cemetery to the old Jewish cemetery, which was closed in 1831. Zaretcha (today: Užupis), just outside the Old Town, and across the Vilenka River, was part of the Vilna municipality in 1940.
[43] In the latter part of the 19th century and the first half of the 20th century, the northern gate was no longer used. One entered the old Jewish cemetery from a side entrance on Derewnicka Street. The path from the entrance would lead one to the section where R. Menahem Manes Chajes was buried (on the right) and to the mausoleum where the Vilna Gaon was buried (on the left).
[44] The biblical title משיח ה’ (see, e.g., I Sam. 24:7 and Lam. 4:20), rendered “the Lord’s anointed one,” was usually reserved for kings and would-be messiahs (by their followers), not rabbis. R. Dovid could not identify the occupant of the grave, perhaps because the line with the name מהור”ר מנחם מאנש simply didn’t resonate to a 17 year old yeshiva student. One could claim that the line with R. Menahem Manes’ name was no longer legible in 1940 (as it was not legible in the inter-war photograph that forms the basis of this essay), but this seems highly unlikely in the light of the Selevan photograph taken in 1936. See below, note 48. The Selevan photograph is a close-up photo, and R. Dovid was standing directly in front of the same tombstone. He had no trouble reading poorly painted words.
[45] See discussion below.
[46] See discussion below.
[47] R. Menahem Manes Chajes died in 1636; R. Moshe Rivkes died in 1672. Eighty five years after these dates would be between 1721 and 1757. Since, as we shall see, the author of Ha-Pardes died in 1775, “85 years” cannot be referring to the time that elapsed between their deaths and his. “100 years” and more would have been a more accurate estimate. See below, note 56, for a likely explanation of the “85 years.”
[48] Reuben Selevan, A Trip to Remember: New York to Europe 1936 (New York, 2009), p. 113. I am deeply grateful to the author for granting me permission to scan and post the photograph (taken by his father in 1936) of R. Menahem Manes Chajes’ epitaph.
[49] For a biography of R. Aryeh Leib Epstein, see R. Ephraim Mordechai Epstein, גבורות ארי (Vilna, 1870). Ha-Pardes, only partially published, was an encyclopedic work encompassing many different genres of rabbinic literature. It includes talmudic commentary, listing and exposition of the 613 commandments, responsa literature, halakhic codes, kabbalistic teaching, sermons, eulogies, and more. The first fascicle with the title ספר הפרדס was published in Koenigsberg, 1759. It is a available today in several editions, including: ספרי בעל הפרדס (Bnei Brak, 1978), 2 vols.; and ספרי הפרדס (Jerusalem, 1983), 4 vols. See also מעשה רב חדש (Bnei Brak, 1980), pp. 29-80.
[50] His grave is no longer standing. A sketch of his grave, as it looked in 1904, appears in Festschrift zum 200jahrigen Bestehen des israelitischen Vereins für Krankenpflege und Beerdigung Chewra Kaddischa (Koenigsberg, 1904), sketch IV. The full Hebrew epitaph is printed opposite p. XX.

[51] See the entry on him in Encyclopaedia Judaica (Jerusalem, 1973), vol. 10, column 830.
[52] גבעת שאול, p. 23a. The translation here is paraphrastic. The Hebrew text reads:
[53] See Deut. 5:19 and Rashi’s comment ad loc.
[54] The year of R. Menahem Manes Chajes’ death was recorded on his epitaph with the words: קדרו ושמים. Several of these letters had  protruding dots above them; the numerical value of the dotted letters yields the year of his death. At a very early period, some of the dots could no longer be read. Fuenn (1860, p. 63; 1915, p. 67) writes that he was able to make out dots above the letters ר, ו , and מ. But those letters alone could not possibly refer to his date of death. This passage indicates that in 1825, at least, the dotted letters also includedק   and final ם, totaling [5]386 = 1626. On other grounds, we know that Chajes died in [5]396 = 1636, so it appears likely that the dotted letters also once included the י of ושמים. If not for Fuenn’s testimony, we would claim that the second word by itself, ושמים ( = [5]396) yields the year of Chajes’s death. Cf. Moshe Dovid Chechik (above, note 9), p. 675.
[55] See M. Avot 5:7.
[56] Given that this passage was written in 1825, “85 years” here refers to the period between 1740 and 1825. As the passage itself makes clear, the reference is to the many rabbinic greats who were buried in this section of the cemetery by 1740 – and not later. See above, epitaphs 1,3,4,5,7, and 8, all of which are samples that support the claim that after 1740 no rabbinic greats were buried in this section of the cemetery. Epitaphs 2 and 6 are in harmony with this claim. Epitaph 2 is the epitaph of R. Shaul Katzenellenbogen, the case at hand. Epitaph 6 (R. Yaakov Kahana) is dated 1826, a year after the case at hand and the publication of the passage in R. Zvi Hirsch Katzenellenbogen’s גבעת שאול.
[57] The father of R. Avraham Yeshaya Karelitz (d. 1953), author of חזון איש.
[58] I am deeply grateful to Professor Dovid Katz of Vilnius, mentor and colleague, whose astute comments have enhanced the final version of this essay.



The Yom Tov Lecture of R. Eliezer Hagadol

The Yom Tov Lecture of R. Eliezer
Hagadol

By Chaim Katz, Montreal
Our
Rabbis taught in a baraita: R. Eliezer was sitting and lecturing about
the laws of the festivals the entire day. A first group left and he said: these
people own pithoi (huge storage containers). 
A second group left and he said: these people own amphorae (smaller
storage containers). A third group left . .
.
 A forth group left . . .  A fifth group . . .  When a sixth group started to leave. . . He
looked towards his students and their faces turned white. He said:  “my children, I wasn’t speaking to you, but to
those who left, who abandon eternal life and busy themselves with mundane life.”
When the students were dismissed he said to them: “Go, eat delicacies, and
drink sweet drinks . . . for today is a holy day . . .”
The
baraita has: “who abandon eternal life and busy themselves with mundane
life”.   But isn’t the joy of the
festival a mitzva? Rabbi Eliezer’s opinion is that joy of the festival
is a reshut as was taught: Rabbi Eliezer says: A person on Yom Tov has
no way except to eat and drink or to sit and study [Torah].  R. Yehoshua says: divide [the time], half for
eating and drinking and half for the study hall. (Betza 15b) [1]
To
summarize:  1) R. Eliezer was critical of
those who walked out during his lecture. 2) R. Eliezer’s criticism is in
agreement with his opinion that eating on the festival is not a mitzvah. 3)
However, he believes that eating is valid on a holiday and is equivalent to study
on a holiday.  4) R. Eliezer encourages
his students to eat delicacies and drink sweet beverages after the lecture has
ended. 
Something
doesn’t seem right.
In his book on R. Eliezer ben Hyrcanus ,
Professor Yitzhak D Gilat, writes:
From R. Eliezer’s reaction to the groups
leaving the study-room, it appears that the alternative of eating and drinking
is merely a hypothetical one . . .   In
practice he disapproves of it. [2]
I think there
is another way to reconcile the different aspects of the story but first some
background:
The
definition of a derasha (the term for R. Eliezer’s lecture) is a talk
(usually related to the current Sabbath or holiday) that was delivered to the
general public. It had a standard form, and was delivered at a specific time.
[3]
An
eye-witness description of a derasha from the time of the Gaonim
exists: [4]
The
head of the yeshiva of Sura opens the lecture (with a verse) and the meturgaman
stands near to him and proclaims his words to the people. When the head of the yeshiva
lectures, he lectures with awe. He closes his eyes and wraps himself in his tallit,
even his forehead is covered. While he lectures, no one in the congregation
makes a sound or says a word.  If he senses that someone in the audience is
speaking, he opens his eyes and a dread of trembling falls upon the entire
congregation…
The derasha was delivered either at
night (the eve of yontov), or in the morning (after the Torah Reading)
or during the afternoon [5].  
R. Eliezer probably did not lecture the
entire day, [דורש
כל
היום
כולו]. He probably lectured for only part of
the day. Parallels prove this point:
1.      They said about R. Yohanan ben Zakai that
he was sitting in the shade of the Temple sanctuary lecturing the entire day.  (Pesahim 26a)
דתניא אמרו עליו על רבן יוחנן בן זכאי שהיה יושב בצילו של
היכל ודורש כל היום כולו 
R.
Yohanan b Zakai couldn’t have sat in the shade all day unless he started on the
west of the heichal and later moved himself (and the audience) to the
eastern side of the heichal. It’s likely that his derasha took
place in the afternoon, when shadows extend towards the east. [6]
2.      They
immediately sat him [Hillel] at the head and appointed him nassi over them
[the Sanhedrin]. He lectured the entire day on the laws of Passover. (Pesahim
66a)
מיד הושיבוהו בראש ומינוהו נשיא עליהם. והיה דורש כל היום
כולו בהלכות הפסח
As
the Gemarah describes, they first searched for someone who could tell
them what to do when the eve of Passover falls on the Sabbath. They found
Hillel. They interviewed him. He presented his arguments, but his reasoning was
rejected. He argued a different way and his reasoning and halakha were accepted.
They offered him the leadership of the Sanhedrin and he accepted. They gathered
the people and he gave the derasha. All that must have taken some time,
which leads to the conclusion that he also lectured during the second part of
the day.
To summarize:  
1)      The people who attended the derasha were mainly regular shul-goers –
members of the community.
2)      Although R. Eliezer’s disciples where also present, the people who left the
lecture before it ended were the regular shul-goers. [7]
3)      R. Eliezer’s lecture took up only part of the day. Based on the expressionדורש כל היום כולו , the derasha probably took place  in the latter part of the afternoon, (like
the derashot of his teacher and his teacher’s teacher).
4)     
Therefore, we can conclude that R. Eliezer expected his
congregants to eat a yomtov meal and they most probably already did so
before the derasha started. He holds that you can observe the holiday either
by eating or by learning Torah – but neither of these activities has to last the
entire day.  
The
climax of the story, the phrase “they abandon eternal life and busy themselves
with mundane life”, also needs to be explained. The sentence is used a number
of times in the Talmud, but it has a bit of a different meaning each time it’s
used. The primary sense is in Taanit 21a: Ilfa and R. Yohanan decide to leave
the beit-ha midrash in search of a more financially secure lifestyle. At
the start of their journey, an angel is heard saying, they are “abandoning
eternal life and occupying themselves with mundane.”
However, in our story
the simple straightforward meaning doesn’t fit. How
were the congregants abandoning eternal life by leaving the lecture early?  They certainly heard more Torah on this day
than they heard on a regular work day. And why were they more engaged in the
mundane today while eating a holiday meal compared to when they eat a normal week-day
meal on any other day? [8]
Which
leads to another point – we aren’t very
familiar with R. Eliezer and his halakhic opinions. We
know he had an affinity for Beit Shammai (and was maybe the last of the Beit
Shammai) and we know that the sages and most of his own disciples distanced
themselves from him and his teachings were not preserved. [9]
R.
Shaul Lieberman in his commentary to the Tosefta of Berakhot, tells us
something about R. Eliezer that I believe is the key to understanding our
story.
We
read in the Tosefta (Berakhot 4:1):
לא ישתמש אדם בפניו ידיו ורגליו אלא לכבוד קונהו שנא’
(משלי טז)
כל פעל ה’ למענהו
One
should not use his face hands or feet but in honor of his Maker as it says:
Everything G-d creates, He creates for its specific purpose.  (Proverbs 16:4)
Professor
Lieberman explains: [10]
לפי פשוטו משמעו שלא ישתמש אדם בהם להנאתו גרידא אלא לכבוד שמים ואם הוא עושה כן הרי כבוד שמים מתירן לו בהנאה.
A
person is not to act solely for his own pleasure but is to act for the honor of
heaven. When he acts this way, his intention for the sake of heaven grants him a
license to enjoy the pleasure.
R.
Lieberman continues and demonstrates that this is the position of Hillel.
However Shammai has a different approach; Shammai regards physical pleasure as
something to be accepted only grudgingly or maybe even involuntarily:
Everything
you do should be for the sake of Heaven, like Hillel.  . . . 
“Where are you going Hillel”, “I’m going to do a mitzvah.” “What mitzvah
Hillel?” “I’m going to the bath-house.” “Is that a mitzvah”, “Yes . . . ”
But
Shammai wouldn’t say that, rather he would say “let us fulfill our obligation
to this body of ours.” [11]
Prof.
Lieberman points out that R. Eliezer follows and practices the teaching of
Shammai. [12]
Returning
now to our story: R.
Eliezer however, views the yontov food like ordinary week-day food, i.e.
 שמחת יום טוב רשות,
and being an ordinary meal, the physical pleasure of the food or drink cannot be
fully enjoyed. [13]
R. Eliezer expects his community to follow
his own rulings and practices. [14]  He suspects that the groups who left before the lecture concluded
were returning home to drink wine and enjoy tasty food for the physical
pleasure of eating and drinking. They were abandoning eternal life – the life of eating purely without
thinking of the physical pleasure and were engaged in the temporal life of
self-indulgence. [15]
Yet, R. Eliezer could still be conciliatory
to his students and encourage them to eat and drink delicacies in honor of the
holiday because he knew they would eat their food in a befitting way and live
up to his teaching and principals.
I believe it’s possible to clarify the
positions of R. Eliezer based on writings of Maimonides. [16] Starting with Sefer
Ha Mitzvot
:
ואחרי עיניכם  – זו זנות שנאמר: ויאמר שמשון
אל אביו וגו’ (שופטים יד, ג (הכוונה באמרם זו זנות רדיפת התענוגות והתאות הגופניות
והעסקת המחשבה בהן תמיד.
The Sifre interprets  . . . don’t follow after your eyes (Numbers
15:39) this refers to promiscuity (zenut)  . . .   including the pursuit of pleasure and pursuit
of physical gratification as well as the constant wishful thinking about them.
[17]
In the Guide, Maimonides expands this
point. [18]
There are some – a partition separates
between them and G-d, the collection of dimwits, who suppress their faculty of
thinking about ideas, who pursue only the sensory feeling which is our greatest
disgrace – the sense of touch. They have no thought or notion except for
thoughts of eating, sex and nothing else . . .
In contrast, the ideal person whom everyone should emulate fits the
following profile [19]
[people] for whom all compulsory
materialness is humiliating and disgraceful;  a flaw  which is forced upon them, especially the
sense of touch, which is humiliating to us as Aristotle wrote, that moves us to
desire eating, drinking and sexual acts, which must be minimized as much as
possible. One must be discreet and pained when engaged in it, not make it the
subject of our speech, not talk about it freely, not sit in assemblies for
these purposes but rather control of all of these needs and reduce them to the
essential minimum as much as we can.
R. Eliezer follows this ideal. I would
argue this is not asceticism. R. Eliezer is doing the same things that everyone
else does. His feelings are different (and that affects his behavior somewhat),
but his feelings follow from his understanding of the Torah’s instruction:  לא תתורו,
and by definition, carrying out the rules
of the Torah is not called asceticism.
In the 5th chapter of the
introduction to his commentary on Abot, Maimonides speaks about dedicating
one’s actions for the sake of heaven, לשם שמיים:
[20]
Know that this level is an outstanding and
difficult accomplishment that is reached by very few, after very much practice.
If there is a man who behaves this way I don’t consider him inferior to the
prophets. Someone who uses all of his powers and directs them solely for the
sake of G-d, who doesn’t perform any big or small activity or speak a word
unless that activity or word brings one toward virtue  . . .
Maimonides’ idea of “for the sake of
heaven” is that certain activities are forbidden unless they are performed for the
sake of heaven. These activities include listening to music, studying science,
spending time on appreciating art or nature and others like them.
For “required” mundane activities like
eating, bathing and so on, the intention for the sake of heaven is also
necessary and permits two things. 1) It allows more elaborate activities (e.g.,
to eat a tasty more elaborate meal, as in Baba Kama 72a- אכילנא בשרא דתורא).
2) It also allows one to enjoy the pleasure associated with the activity
according to Hillel. As we’ve seen, R. Eliezer disagrees with the second point.
[21]
Rabbi Moshe Sokol defines Neutralism: [22] 
Pleasure in itself is neither good nor
bad. Pleasurable activities are also, in themselves, neither good nor evil.
Pleasurable activities derive their value only instrumentally, either by
considering the consequences . . .  or by
considering the intentions of the person engaging in the pleasurable activity .
. .
I believe that R. Eliezer is also a
neutralist because he is not forbidding any permitted pleasurable activity. If a
“mundane” pleasurable activity is clearly a mitzvah, (eating matzah
at the seder(?)), then I would guess the pleasure can probably be
enjoyed. If it’s not a mitzvah then the pleasure can’t be enjoyed.
I saw a midrashic source, which at first
glance seems to describe R. Eliezer’s asceticism.
The
Beit Hamidrash of R. Eliezer was shaped like a stadium. There was a special stone
there which was reserved for R. Eliezer to sit on. Once R. Yehoshua came in and
began to kiss the stone saying this stone is like Mount Sinai and the one who
sat on it is like the Ark of the Covenant. [23]
Why
did R. Eliezer sit on a stone? But this is an invalid question. Everyone in the
beithamidrash sat on the floor and this had nothing to do with
asceticism (see Yevamot 105b).  The
teacher however didn’t sit on the floor but sat a little higher, maybe on a
stone like this one [see note 24].
 The same midrash describes R. Eliezer’s
school:
One
time R. Aqiba was late in coming to the beit hamidrash. He sat
outside. A question was asked. They said the halakha is outside  . . . 
the Torah is outside  . . .  Aqiba is outside. They cleared a way and he
came and sat in front of the feet of R. Eliezer. [25]
It
sounds like the students sat (cross-legged) on the ground in concentric circles
around R. Eliezer. R. Eliezer sat (cross-legged) on his stone and R. Aqiba (the
most senior student) sat directly at R. Eliezer’s feet. [26]
If
this arrangement was also in place during R. Eliezer’s derasha, then the
first group – the group of congregants that left the earliest were probably sitting
(on the ground) on the outermost concentric circle closest to the exit so that
they could easily make their get-away. The other groups (who were also planning
on leaving early), also sat on the ground nearer to the exit. The students however,
who planned on staying until the end sat closest to their teacher R. Eliezer.
 [1]
ת”ר מעשה ברבי אליעזר שהיה יושב ודורש כל היום כולו בהלכות
יום טוב יצתה כת ראשונה אמר הללו בעלי פטסין כת שניה  אמר הללו בעלי חביות כת שלישית אמר הללו בעלי כדין כת רביעית
אמר הללו בעלי לגינין כת חמישית אמר הללו בעלי כוסות התחילו כת ששית לצאת אמר הללו
בעלי מארה נתן עיניו בתלמידים התחילו פניהם משתנין אמר להם בני לא לכם אני אומר אלא
להללו שיצאו שמניחים חיי עולם ועוסקים בחיי שעה בשעת פטירתן אמר להם לכו אכלו משמנים
ושתו ממתקים ושלחו מנות לאין נכון לו כי קדוש היום לאדונינו ואל תעצבו כי חדות ה’ היא
מעוזכם
אמר מר שמניחין חיי עולם ועוסקין בחיי שעה והא שמחת יום טוב
מצוה היא רבי אליעזר לטעמיה דאמר שמחת יום טוב רשות דתניא רבי אליעזר אומר אין לו
לאדם ביום טוב אלא או אוכל ושותה או יושב ושונה ר’ יהושע אומר חלקהו חציו לאכילה
ושתיה וחציו לבית המדרש.
[2] Yitzhak D Gilat, R. Eliezer ben
Hyrcanus A Scholar Outcast
Bar-Ilan University press 1984, p 279 (English
edition).
[3] In the Practical Talmud Dictionary by Rabbi
Yitzhak Frank, s.v. דורש this example is
quoted (Sota 40a):
R. Abbahu and R.
Hiyya b Abba happened to come to a certain town. R. Abbahu taught aggada; R.
Hiyya b Abba taught halakha.  Everyone
abandoned R. Hiyya b. Abba and went to hear R. Abbahu.
רבי אבהו דרש באגדתא רבי חייא בר אבא דרש בשמעתא שבקוה כולי
עלמא לרבי חייא בר אבא ואזול לגביה דר’ אבהו 
[4] Quoted on page 1 of the  introduction to Sheiltot
d’Rav Achai
 
ed. Rabbi Samuel K. Mirsky (Jerusalem, 1960) from Medieval Jewish
Chronicles
Seder ha-Ḥakhamim ve-Korot ha-Yamim, (Part ii, page 84)
edited by Adolf (Avrohom) Neubauer.
עד שפותח ראש ישיבת סורא והתורגמן עומד עליו ומשמיע דבריו לעם. וכשדורש דורש באימה וסותם את עיניו
ומחעטף בטליחו עד שהוא מכסה פדחחו. ולא יהיה בקהל בשעה שהוא דורש פוצה פה ומצפעף ומדבר דבר .וכשירגיש באדם שמדבר פותח את עיניו ונופל על הקהל אימה ורעדה.  וכשהוא גומר מתחיל בבעיא ואומר
[5] R. Ezra Zion Melamed in Mavo Lsifrut
Hatalmud
page 74. (However the derasha of the head of the Sura
Yeshiva on the occasion of the nomination of the exilarch (previous note) was
given before the reading the Torah.)
[6]
Mishna Midot 2:1
הר הבית היה חמש מאות אמה על חמש מאות אמה רובו מן הדרום, והשני לו מן המזרח, והשלישי לו מן הצפון,
ומיעוטו מן המערב.  מקום שהיה רוב מידתו,
שם היה רוב תשמישו.
The
temple mount was five hundred cubits by five hundred cubits. Most of the free
space was on the south; then on the east; then on the north; and the smallest
area was on the west. The larger the area the more it was used.
[7] Artscroll translated: the first group of students
left . . . the second group of students 
. . .
[8]
The same phrase also appears in Shabbat 10a and there too the plain meaning
doesn’t fit well:
Rava
saw R. Hamnuna prolonging his prayers and said: They abandon eternal life and
busy themselves with the mundane.
Aside
from the plural language, how could one describe prayer (service of the heart
(Taanit 3a)) as “mundane”?  A friend
(res) suggested that if this is the same Rav Hamnuna who was criticized by Rav
Huna for being single (Kiddushin 29b) and if he still wasn’t married by now
then Rava might be telling him that he is abandoning eternal life (marriage and
potential children), and busy with prayer , which is temporal because it
benefits only himself.  Or if it’s the
same Rav Hamnuna who in Berakot 31a taught an approach to prayer based on
Hannah’s prayer, then maybe Rava, who was a descendent of Eli the Priest (Rosh
Hashana 18a – manuscripts), like his forbearer, misunderstood this type of
prayer and considered it to be mundane.    
[9] R. Ezra Zion
Melamed, Pirkey Mavo Lsifrut Hatalmud (Jerusalem 5733), p. 64.
[10] R. Saul Lieberman
Tosefta kiPheshuto, Berakhot
, p. 56, explaining the beginning of the
4th chapter.
[11]
Solomon Schechter ed, Abot de-Rabbi Nathan, Vienna, 1887, Recession B,
chapter 30. Page 33b
שמאי לא היה אומר כך אלא יעשה חובותינו עם הגוף הזה
[12] Nedarim 20b
[13]
Mishna Betzah (5:2), reshut is a voluntary type of action that has a
certain dimension of mitvah-bility to it.
כל שחייבין עליו משום שבות, ומשום רשות, ומשום מצוה בשבת–חייבין עליו ביום טוב אלו הם משום רשות–לא דנין, ולא ולא מקדשין, ולא חולצין, ולא מייבמין
[14]
R. Eliezer also said: one may cut down trees to make charcoal for manufacturing
iron tools to perform a circumcision on the Sabbath  . . . Our Rabbis taught: In R. Eliezer’s
locality they would follow his teaching and cut down trees to make charcoal to
make iron tools to circumcise a child on the Sabbath – Shabbath 130a
[15] Rambam
Shebitat Yom Tov  6:18 writes:
The people gather early in the morning in
the synagogues and houses of study. They say the prayers, read the Torah
relevant to the day and return home to eat. They go to the houses of study,
read [Torah], recite [Mishna] until after noon. 
They say the afternoon prayers and return home to eat and drink for the
remainder of the day and night. 
R.
Kapah notes that they return home to eat (after shaharit), but return
home to eat and drink after the minha prayer. Here too, R.
Eliezer mentions the household items used mainly to store wine.
[16]
I assume that vis-à-vis these philosophical teachings, there was no “rupture
and reconstruction” to interrupt between the times of Chazal and Rambam.
[17]
Sefer HaMitzvoth, (Neg. 47) Rabbi
Kapah’s edition:
“ואחרי עיניכם”
– זו זנות שנאמר: ויאמר שמשון אל אביו וגו’ (שופטים יד, ג (הכוונה באמרם זו זנות רדיפת התענוגות והתאות הגופניות
והעסקת המחשבה בהן תמיד.
[18]
Guide section III, chapter 8, R. Kapah’s edition. (R. Kapah, in his Sefer
Hamitvot points out this parallel)
אבל האחרים שמסך מבדיל בינם לבין ה’ והם עדת הסכלים, הרי בהפך זה, ביטלו כל התבוננות ומחשבה במושכל, ועשו תכליתם אותו החוש אשר הוא חרפתנו הגדולה, כלומר: חוש המישוש, ואין להם מחשבה ולא רעיון כי אם באכילה ותשמיש לא יותר
[19]
Guide section III, chapter 8, R. Kapah’s edition.
כל הכרחי החומר אצלם חרפה וגנאי ומגרעות שההכרח מחייבם,
ובפרט חוש המישוש אשר הוא חרפה לנו כפי שאמר אריסטו אשר בו מתאווים אנו האכילה והשתייה והתשמיש, שראוי
למעט בו ככל האפשר, ולהסתתר בו ולהצטער בעשייתו. ושלא ייחד בכך שיחה ולא ירחיב בו דיבור, ולא יקהל
לדברים אלה, אלא יהיה האדם שולט על כל הצרכים הללו, וממעט בהן ככל יכולתו, ולא יקח
מהן כי אם מה שאי אפשר בלעדיו.
[20] Shemone Perakim, Chapter 5, internet
edition here.
ודע, שהמדרגה הזאת היא מדרגה עליונה מאוד וחמודה.
ולא ישיגוה אלא מעטים,
ואחר השתדלות רבה מאוד. וכשתזדמן מציאות-אדם, שזה מצבו, לא אומר, שהוא למטה מן הנביאים,
רצוני לומר: שיוציא כוחות-נפשו כולם וישים תכליתם האלוהים יתעלה לבד,
ולא יעשה מעשה קטון או גדול,
ולא יבטא מילה, אלא שאותו מעשה או אותו ביטוי יביא ל”מעלה” או ל”מה שמביא אל מעלה”.
[21]
I don’t think Maimonides discusses the pleasure associated with physical
activities performed for the sake of heaven. I noticed that in In The Sages
– Their Concepts and Beliefs
E.E. Urbach 
(Jerusalem 1978 Heb.), page 299, the author understands that according
to Shammai there is no concept of acting for the sake of heaven when it comes
to activities that fulfill bodily needs like eating, washing and so on, but I
don’t understand why the author says so.
[22]
Attitudes Toward Pleasure in Jewish Thought, Moshe Z. Sokol, in Reverence,
Righteousness and Rahamanut – Esssays in Memory of Rabbi Dr. Leo Jung
ed.
Jacob J. Schacter, page 300-304
[23]
Shir Hashirim Rabba 1:3  לריח שמניך טובים
ובית מדרשו של רבי אליעזר היה עשוי כמין ריס, ואבן אחת הייתה שם והיתה מיוחדת לו לישיבה. פעם אחת נכנס רבי יהושע התחיל ונושק אותה האבן ואמר: האבן הזאת, דומה להר סיני, וזה שישב עליה, דומה לארון הברית.
[25] Shir Hashirim Rabba 1:3 
פעם אחת שהה רבי עקיבא לבא לבית המדרש בא וישב לו מבחוץ. נשאלה שאלה: זו הלכה, אמרו: הלכה מבחוץ. חזרה ונשאלה שאלה. אמרו: תורה מבחוץ.  חזרה
ונשאלה שאלה. אמרו: עקיבא מבחוץ. פנו לו מקום. בא וישב לו לפני רגליו של רבי אליעזר.

[26]
The story in Berakhot 28a (and Yerushalmi Berakhot 4:1 (daf 32b in mechon-mamre
and snunit sites), (the question about the obligation of the evening prayer), speaks
about a beitmidrash with benches. Maybe the meeting place of the
Sanhedrin was different and they didn’t sit on the floor?



Textual Emendations in Minhag Anglia

Textual
Emendations in Minhag Anglia

Harry
Freedman

Harry
Freedman’s
The Talmud: A Biography is
published by Bloomsbury Publications. His next book,
The Murderous History
of Bible Translations will be published by Bloomsbury in 2016

In
his book Changing the Immutable Mac Shapiro notes that, for reasons of
propriety, the Birnbaum siddur transliterates the words מי רגליים in פטום הקטרת
[1],
instead of translating them. Philip Birnbaum was not the only translator to be
troubled by these words.
In
1890 Rev. Simeon Singer produced a prayer book in London, with the sanction and
authorisation of Chief Rabbi
Nathan Marcus Adler. Singer’s object was to produce ‘a
correct text and satisfactory translation’ which could be used in ‘Synagogues,
families and schools.’[2] Singer
used Yitzhok (Seligman) Baer’s Avodat Yisrael  as his base text.
As befits a
prestigious Victorian publication, Singer’s siddur was grandly entitled The
Authorised Prayer Book of the United Hebrew Congregations of the British
Empire.
Known ever since as The Singer’s, it became and remains the
defining text of Minhag Anglia.

Notwithstanding
its source in the gemara, and the fact that מי רגליים is itself a
euphemism, its translation must have been
considered unsuitable for inclusion in Singer’s family friendly siddur. But
unlike Birnbaum he did not transliterate the Hebrew words. Instead he just left
out the entire translation of והלא מי רגליים יפין לה אלא שאין מכניסין מי רגליים בעזרה מפני הכבוד. He left his readers with no explanatory note as to what he had
done.
In 1904 Arthur Davis and Herbert Adler published a set of
machzorim. Popularly known as the Routledge machzorim  they served for many years  as minhag anglia’s definitive yomtov
texts. They followed Singer in omitting the entire translation of והלא מי רגליים יפין לה אלא שאין מכניסין מי רגליים בעזרה
מפני הכבוד.
By 1939 Singer’s siddur had run to its 16th impression.
Now under the auspices of Chief Rabbi J.H. Hertz, those mitpallelim
accustomed to saying פטום
הקטרת would have
been bemused to find the final sentence missing, not just in English, but now
also in Hebrew. Dayan Ivan Binstock, the Minhag Anglia editor of the Sacks
Koren machzorim, suggests that Hertz required this change for consistency, to
bring the Hebrew and English into line. The alternative remedy, of adding an
English translation to the extant Hebrew, was clearly not appropriate.
This was not Chief Rabbi Hertz’s only editorial
amendment. He substantially reduced the Prayer for the Government (in England
this was known as the Prayer for the Royal Family). Amongst other omissions he
removed הפוצה דוד עבדו מחרב
רעה and
significantly reduced the number of verbs required to elevate and protect the
monarch. Possibly, such over-anxious concern for the monarch’s welfare was not
deemed appropriate for the still-powerful British Empire.
Chief Rabbi Hertz had his own concerns about indelicacy.
In the siddur with commentary that he published in 1946 he too omitted all
mention, in Hebrew and English, of מי רגליים. But he also
ameliorated the words of the Shabbat shacharit Amidah. In the Hertz siddur, the
ערלים who do not dwell in the Sabbath’s rest[3] have
become רשעים. In his commentary Hertz notes that ‘for many
centuries most prayer books had this reading instead of ערלים, which recent
editions, through the influence of Baer, have reintroduced’.[4]
לא ישכנו רשעים is found in a number of siddurim including R. Shlomo
Ganzfried’s Avodat Yisrael, R. Yehudah Leib ben Meir Gordon’s Beit
Yehuda
and R. Yosef Teumim’s Higayon Lev. R. Yaakov  Emden[5] and
R. Chaim Elazar Spira[6],
amongst others, argue against it on the grounds that whereas  ערלים are not
obligated to keep the mitzvah of Shabbat, many רשעים are.
Baer, whom Hertz holds responsible for the current use of
ערלים, states in a footnote: ערלים: כן הנוסחא בכל ס”י (=ספרי ישנים) ובסדורי
ספרדים וברמב”ם. [7]  Hertz’s
choice of רשעים in place of reflects at best a minority
opinion and has neither precedent nor subsequent in Minhag Anglia. It
was almost certainly introduced for reasons of propriety.
In 2006 a fourth edition of the Singer’s siddur was
published with a new translation by Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. For the first
time in the history of Minhag Anglia, פטום הקטרת was printed in
full, including the final sentence, in both Hebrew and English. מי רגליים may have not
have been brought to the azarah  מפני הכבוד but in our
more plain-speaking age its restitution to  פטום הקטרת seems just as
much to be an expression of כבוד.

[1] B.
Keritot 6a.
[2]
Preface to 1st edition of the Authorised Daily Prayer Book, ed.
Simeon Singer, London 1890
[3] וגם במנוחתו לא ישכנו ערלים
[4] J.H.
Hertz, Authorised Daily Prayer Book with Commentary, p 458-9
[5] לוח ארש, 312
[6] מאמר נוסח התפילה, 23
[7] Siddur
Avodat Yisrael,
5628 edition p. 219.



A Note Regarding Dayan Simcha Zelig Rieger’s View of Opening a Refrigerator Door on Shabbat

A Note Regarding Dayan Simcha Zelig Rieger’s View
of Opening a Refrigerator Door on Shabbat
Rabbi Michael J. Broyde
Introduction

Thank you to Rabbi Yaacov Sasson for his comments on
footnote 59 of the article “The Use of
Electricity on Shabbat and Yom Tov” found in the Journal of Halacha and
Contemporary Society, 21:4-47 (Spring 1991) co-written by Rabbi Jachter and
myself.  It is always nice to have people
commenting on articles written more than 25 years ago.[1]
Before delving into the halacha, it is worth clarifying some preliminary
facts – in particular, whether refrigerators even had automatic lights during
the first half of the 1930s.  Some
commenters have suggested that such lights were not yet present, or that they
were limited to rare and expensive refrigerators.  This is not correct.  I reproduce below a wide variety of newspaper
ads from the early 1930s that show that a range of refrigerator models by many
manufacturers at various price points featured automatic interior lights (see attachments here). These
include a Frigidaire priced at $157.50, a GE priced at $99.50, a Majestic model
with no price, a Frigidaire priced at $119.50, a Leonard priced at $114.75 and
many more.[2]  And while some of the publications appear
targeted to the upper class, many others are clearly meant for wider audiences
– particularly those available on installment plans (“$5 down, 15¢ a day”;
“Nothing down! 20¢ a day!”; “$7 Initial Payment – enables you to enjoy any of
these refrigerators immediately. Investigate our convenient budget payment
plans.”).[3] Thus, even in the early 1930s, interior
lights were a readily available feature in the refrigerators that were becoming
increasingly common in American households.[4] Claims that “normal” or “typical”
refrigerators did not have lights are belied by the many ads taken from diverse
periodicals that are reproduced here.[5]
A Summary of the Original Article

The relevant section of the article is
about using refrigerators on Shabbat, and states in part:
A. Refrigerators
The opening of a
refrigerator door on Shabbat has been the topic of vigorous debate in past
decades. Opening the refrigerator door allows warm air to enter, thus causing a
drop in temperature which causes the motor to go on sooner. If one accepts that
turning the motor on during Shabbat is prohibited, then it would appear that
opening the refrigerator door on Shabbat when the motor is not already56 running
is prohibited. Indeed, many prominent rabbinic decisors have adopted this
position.57 However, many authorities58 assert that
one is permitted to open a refrigerator even when the motor is off.59
The footnotes to the above-quoted text observe:
56. Opening
the door when the motor is already running is permissible because all that is
done then is causing the motor to stay on for a longer period of time; see also
section V. 
57. See Har Zvi 1:151; Mishnat Rabbi Aharon, 1:4; Minchat
Yitzchak
 3:24; and Chelkat Yaakov, 1:54. Rabbi
Ovadia Yosef, Yabia Omer 1:21 and Rabbi Yosef Eliyahu Henkin, Edut Leyisrael p. 152, recommend that one be
stringent in this regard, although they both accept that it is permissible to
open a refrigerator even when the motor is off. 
58. Rabbi
Shlomo Zalman Auerbach’s argument can be found in his Minchat Shlomo pp. 77-91. Others who are lenient
include Rabbi Waldenberg,Tzitz Eliezer 8:12
and 12:92, Rabbi Uziel, Piskei
Uziel
 no. 15. Rabbi Aharon
Lichtenstein reports that Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik subscribes to the
lenient position in this regard. 
59. Almost
all authorities accept that it is forbidden to open a refrigerator when the
light inside will go on. Notwithstanding one’s lack of intent to turn on the
light when opening the refrigerator, this action is forbidden, since the light
will inevitably go on (pesik resha). 
However, Rabbi S.Z.
Rieger (the Dayan of Brisk) rules leniently in this regard (Hapardes 1934, volume three). His lenient
ruling is based on two assumptions. First, he states that when the forbidden
act has no benefit to the one who performs it, and it is only incidental (psik
resha d’lo nicha leh
), no prohibition exists.
Rabbi Rieger assumes that the lenient ruling of the Aruch (see Aruch defining the word “sever“)
is accepted. Second, Rabbi Rieger states that the light in the refrigerator
provides no benefit to the one opening the door.
His first assumption is disputed by most authorities (see Yabia Omer 1:21,5; Minchat Shlomo p. 87). The consensus appears not to
accept theAruch’s ruling
as normative. The second assertion appears to be entirely incorrect. The light
serves as a convenience to locate items in the refrigerator and cannot be
described as having no benefit to one who opens the door.
Most authorities, however, maintain that it is acceptable
to ask a Gentile to open the door of the refrigerator even if the light will go
on: see Iggerot Moshe, Orach
Chaim
 2:68; and Shemirat Shabbat Kehilchatah pp. 100-101.So too, it would appear to
these authors that one could allow a fellow Jew to open the door when he does
not know the light will go on, as that is only in the category of mitasek (unknowing) and thus permitted; see e.g.,Rabbi Joseph B.
Soloveitchik, Shiurim
Lezeicher Avi Mori
, p.30 n. 58; but see Teshuvot
R. Akiva Eiger
 #9. 
(bold emphasis added)
Rabbi Sasson’s Criticism

Rabbi Sasson is commenting on the words in
the second paragraph of footnote 59 (the bold sentences above).  He proposes that the article is wrong in its
understanding of the view of Dayan Simcha Zelig Rieger who did not, he claims,
permit the turning on of the light in the refrigerator, but only the
motor.  Rabbi Sasson states:
Lo hayu dvarim me-olam. Rav Simcha Zelig did not permit opening a refrigerator when the
light inside will go on. Rav Simcha Zelig wrote (Hapardes 1934, num. 3, page 6)
that it is permitted to open the refrigerator since the intention is to remove
an item, “v’aino mechavein lehadlik et ha-elektri.” The authors misinterpreted this
statement to be a reference to an electric light in the refrigerator.
And his argument is:
However, it is clear from a simple
reading of the articles to which Rav Simcha Zelig was responding that the topic
under discussion at the time was triggering the motor by opening the door and allowing warm
air to enter; lights and light bulbs are not mentioned at all. In the first of
those articles (Hapardes 1931, num. 2, page 3), the language of “hadlaka
is used in reference to the refrigerator motor, and Rav Simcha Zelig’s language
of “lehadlik et ha-elektri” appears to parallel the language
used there.
As an additional proof, he notes:
In the second of those articles
(Hapardes 1931, num. 3 page 6), the act of triggering the motor is referred to
as “havara” and “havara b’zerem ha-chashmali“,
and Rav Simcha Zelig used a similar nomenclature, “lehadlik et
ha-elektri
” to refer to triggering the motor.
Based on this Rabbi Sasson concludes:
Rav Simcha Zelig’s position was that it
is permitted to open a refrigerator when the motor
will then go on, as triggering the motor is classified as a psik resha d’lo ichpat lei,
which is equivalent to lo
nicha lei. 
Rav Simcha Zelig
never addressed opening a refrigerator when the light will go on. 
(footnotes omitted)
A Review of the Teshuva and
a Defense of the Second Paragraph of Footnote Fifty Nine

The relevant paragraph of the teshuva by
Dayan Rieger reads simply:

ובדבר התבת קרח מלאכותי נראה כיון דכשפותח
את דלת התיבה הוא כדי לקבל משם איזו דבר ואינו מכיון להדליק את העלעקטרי הוי פסיק
רישיה דלא איכפת ליה אפילו להדליק אם הוא באופן שהוא פסיק רישיה.

And in the matter of the artificial
[electric] icebox it appears that since when one opens the door of the box to
get something from there and does not intend to ignite (light) the electricity
it is a psik resha that he does not care about, even to light in way
that is a psik resha.
The rest of the teshuva by Dayan Rieger
presents his view of the halacha in cases in which there is a psik resha d’lo
ichpat lei
, which is that this is a dispute between Tosaphot and the
Aruch.  Furthermore, Rav Chaim M’brisk
maintains that the Rambam is in agreement with the Aruch, and the custom is
like the Aruch; therefore, it is completely proper to rely on the Aruch in
cases in which there is a psik resha d’lo nicha lei.[6]

A careful reader of the first sentence,
and indeed of the entire teshuva, can sense that there is some ambiguity here
about the electrical object referred to, since Dayan Rieger does not specify
the source or consequence of igniting the electricity. I am inclined to
reinforce the original explanation that it was the light based on the following
three observations.
First, the many articles in Hapardes do not
necessarily use as interchangeable the terms zerem chashmali or chut
chashmali
or chut elektriki with
the term hidlik et haelektrik – which
seems to have a different connotation. 
Particularly in the Yiddish spoken culture of that time, the term
“electric” seems to have meant “lights” and not electricity or motor.  Rabbi Sasson’s claim that the phrase “havara
b’zerem ha-chashmali
” and Rav Simcha Zelig phrase “lehadlik et
ha-elektri
” are identical is, I think, not indubitably correct.  Elektriki, according to my colleague
at Emory, Professor Nick Block, more likely means the light than anything else
in 1930s Yiddish.  This is particularly true in my
opinion, when added to the word “le’hadlik,” a word of ignition.
Second, and much more importantly, the halachic
analysis presented by Dayan Rieger addresses a direct action, while everyone
else who discusses the motor speaks about an indirect action.  This is very important to grasp.  The light in the refrigerator immediately
turns on when the door is opened, as the opening of the door also opens the
switch that controls the incandescent light. 
Not so the motor, which is controlled by a thermostat; opening the door
usually leads to an increase of air temperature inside the refrigerator, which
eventually directs the motor to go on.
As the editor of Hapardes notes (in
volume 5), there are persuasive grounds to permit the opening of the
refrigerator door based on two distinct principles of enormous halachic
importance that are deeply grounded in factual reality: davar she’eno
mitkaven
and grama; it is based on this that many poskim to this day
permit a refrigerator door to be opened, as our article from 25 years ago
notes.
Simply put, many times when the
refrigerator is opened, the motor does not go on at all, since for the motor to
go on immediately, the refrigerator must be at just a certain temperature such
that the warm air immediately causes the thermostat to turn the motor on.  Sometimes the motor is already on, sometimes
the motor is not hastened, and sometimes there is a very long time delay.  This reality gives rise to important halachic
grounds discussed in our article and quoted by many poskim, including many
before and after the great Dayan Rieger.
But Dayan Rieger makes no mention of
this: he does not discuss grama, or davar she’eno mitkaven or any
of these other factors that apply to indirect action.  Instead, he assumes that when the
refrigerator door is opened, the electrical object under discussion is always ignited, and it does so
immediately and directly, thus causing a melacha. This is the
formulation of pesik resha, which
inexorably causes melacha each and every time — in contrast to grama,
davar she’eno mitkaven or any other principles of indirect or delayed or
uncertain causation.
Dayan Rieger is not speaking about acts
caused indirectly, uncertainly or after a delay – he is speaking about an
action that directly and immediately occurs and is fully and directly caused by
my opening the door.  As he writes in his
first paragraph:
ובדבר התבת קרח מלאכותי נראה כיון דכשפותח
את דלת התיבה הוא כדי לקבל משם איזו דבר ואינו מכיון להדליק את העלעקטרי הוי פסיק
רישיה דלא איכפת ליה אפילו להדליק אם הוא באופן שהוא פסיק רישיה.
No intermediary (like a thermostat) and
no indirect or delayed causation is present in the case Dayan Rieger is
discussing – the prohibited action is caused by the door opening.  The act of opening the door turns on the elektri
according to Dayan Rieger.  His
halachic insight is that even when such causation is direct, it is of no value
to the opener of the door, who just wants to take some food out; it is a psik
resha
of no benefit.  Factually,
this is not an accurate description of the motor at all, which frequently does
not turn on immediately, but it does correctly describe the mechanism of the refrigerator
light
.  Dayan Rieger implicitly
concedes that if one were to open the door with the intent to turn on the light
(or motor), that would be assur min ha-torah, since he sees no indirect
causation in the process, something that most poskim think is not at all true
for the motor.
Professor Sara Reguer noted by email to
me that “my grandfather conferred with scientists and specialists in
electricity before giving his response,” and given this fact it is extremely
unlikely that he missed such a basic point that anyone who repeatedly opened
and closed a refrigerator would have observed. 
This was simply not true about refrigerator motors as the original
question notes explicitly in Hapardes Volume 2. This technological assumption
about the refrigerator is true about the light, which always turns on when the
door is opened, but not about the motor.
I would also note two additional factors
for consideration. First, the other substantive halachic logic employed by
Dayan Rieger which analogizes elektriki to sparks seems to me to be a
closer analogy to a light than to a motor which is hardly fire at all; sparks,
like incandescent lights, are fire according to halacha.  Secondly, there has been a regular subset of
poskim (as shown by Rabbi Abadi’s most recent teshuva, Ohr Yitzchak 2:166) who
adopt the exact analysis and view of Dayan Rieger and view the light as lo
ichpat
since one does not want it and a light is on already.  If Dayan Rieger is speaking about the motor,
he has gotten the facts terribly wrong as well as provided a halachic chiddush
that is totally unneeded, whereas if he is speaking about the light, he has
adopted a halachic view that has some company, and gotten the facts correct.
Furthermore, his halachic analysis is needed to reach the desired result.
Given these factors – the linguistic
ambiguity, the presence of logic that is discussing a psik resha and not
a grama or a davar she’eno mitkaven, the analogy to sparks and
the parallel teshuva by Rabbi Abadi reaching the same conclusion and employing
the same logic for lights – I am still inclined to think (as the original
article notes) that this teshuva is speaking about the light and not the motor.
On the other hand, there is a good and natural
impulse to read halachic literature conservatively and to press for
interpretations that align gedolim with one other and not leave outliers
with halachic novelty.[7]  Furthermore, I do recognize that many
halachic authorities who have cited Dayan Rieger’s teshuva have quoted it in
the context of the motor and not the light,, as Rabbi Sasson claims
is the proper reading.[8]  But, I think these citations are less than
dispositive for the following important reason: Those who quote Dayan Rieger’s
view as something to consider about the motor note that his analysis is
halachically wrong (see for example, both Yabia Omer OC 1:21 [paragraphs 7-11
are explicitly directly at explaining why Dayan Riegler’s halachic explanation
for motors is wrong] and Minchat Shlomo 1:10 [section 7 calls this logic אולם לענ”ד צ”ע הרבה] who both note deep
problems with Dayan Reigler’s analysis as applied to the motor).[9]  Poskim generally spend less time and ink
explicating the views of authorities whom they believe to have reached inapt or
incorrect conclusions of fact or law compared with those whom they cite in
whole or in part to bolster their own analysis. Simply put, the precedential
value of how one posek cites another when they centrally disagree is not
as great.  
Thus, when given two choices of how to
understand what an eminent posek wrote, I prefer an approach that is both
halachically plausible and factually correct rather than one what is
halachically unneeded and factually wrong.[10]
Conclusion

In sum, while there is some ambiguity in
Dayan Rieger’s teshuva, the recent (ca. 1930) introduction of lights in
refrigerators, the fact that Dayan Rieger makes no mention of grama, davar
she’eno mitkaven
or any of the other classical grounds for discussing the
motor, and from the fact that he uses the Yiddish word for light, all incline
me to think that he is speaking about the light, although I understand the
ambiguity.  Let me add, lehalacha,
as the original article notes, that I think such a view is not halachically
normative in that we do not follow the view of the Aruch as a general matter.
Having said all that, in hindsight I
would have worded footnote 59 a bit differently to reflect more of the nuance
that is present in this post (and may in fact do so if the article is ever
republished).
Postscript

Allow me to
note my general agreement with Rabbi Sasson’s conclusion when he writes:
I would add two endnotes – when surveying Halachot with significant practical
implications, such as in the realm of Hilchot
Shabbat
, it is an author’s responsibility to ensure that all sources are
cited accurately, lest a reader rely on an incorrect citation with the result
of Chillul Shabbat.
Secondly, when confronted with a Halachic position of a Gadol B’Yisrael that seems to
be entirely erroneous, the possibility that the Gadol’s position is being misunderstood must
be explored.
This is true even when the citation is
in a footnote and even when it is noted as not normative.  More generally, readers of blog posts about
nuanced textual disputes should, whenever they can, go back to the original
sources and check for themselves. (The editors of the Seforim Blog should be
commended for helping their contributors include images of such texts for the
benefit of the readership.)
Let me also add a final endnote of my
own: While vigorous debate
has always been a fundamental part of Torah study within the confines of the
beit midrash, and while online forums have brought intelligent Torah
conversations to a much wider group of participants (and observers), the tone
and tenor of these conversations often take on the harsh, acerbic voice of the
internet at large. I generally find that the sharper the rhetorical tone, the
less value the substance has. Orthodox Judaism today would benefit greatly from
deep, substantive conversations on a whole host of halachic and hashkafic
matters that are conducted in a respectful manner. We certainly could use more
light and less heat.
[1] Located here
.
[2] In 2015
dollars, these range from about $1400 to $2200; see CPI Inflation Calculator here.  They are not inexpensive, but seem to
be attainable for middle-class consumers.
[3] See attached
advertisements here.
[4] Indeed, the
number of household refrigerators increased dramatically during the Depression
years, as increased longevity and reduced spoilage helped stretch family food
budgets.
[5] Nor are these
refrigerators more expensive than any other as the ads show.  The reason for this is obvious, upon
reflection.  The compressor was the
expensive, high-tech component at that time, whereas the spring switch light
connected to the door had been invented many years earlier and was very low
cost.
[6] The final
section addresses ice making and it is not under discussion in this article.
[7] For more on
this, see the concluding chapter of my ‘Innovation in Jewish Law: A Case Study
of Chiddush in Havineinu” (Urim Publiscations 2010).
[8] Added to this is the
voice of Dayan Reiger’s granddaughter, Professor Sara Reuger, who tells me that
she is certain that this teshuva is referring to the thermostat or motor and
not the light.   However, I was not
persuaded by her recollection since she had no direct conversation with her
grandfather about this and is only recalling conversations with her own father
and (as explained above) this view places Dayan Reiger’s teshuva in a weak
halachic light analytically (as well as other reasons).
[9]   For another example of this, see Hapardes
volume 11:2 at page 8-10. 
[10] Another possibility was suggested to me
by Professor Miriam Udel of Emory who noted that the Hebrew term “התבת קרח מלאכותי” corresponds well to the Yiddish
term ayz-kastn which is really a very early refrigerator (ice chest).  Ice chests were pre-modern refrigerators that
had no electricity at all, but were cooled by ice; see here and here  By 1925 companies were selling add-on kits to
these ice chests that contained an external motor which cooled a coil insert.  See the article in the Washington Post,
August 9, 1925 entitled “Modern
Electric Plant Displaces Need For Ice Man: Its Refrigeration” at page F7.  See also Display Ad 18 — No Title Chicago
Daily Tribune (1923-1963); Jun 14, 1925 (attached) which notes simply “If you
have a good refrigerator in your home, you can convert it into a Frigidaire easily
and inexpensively.  The Frigidaire “frost
coil” is placed in the ice compartment; the simple mechanism is the basement or
other convenient location.  Small copper tubes
connect the frost coil and compressor and a connection is made to your electric
wiring.”  This converted ice box, to the
best of my knowledge, had no mechanism related to the door being open at all.
(The interior ice compartment would have remained closed.)  Dayan Reiger could not have been speaking
about this, as he is addressing a door mechanism and not a hot-air-entering-the-refrigerator
problem.



Evening Prayer Revisited

Evening
Prayer Revisited
Chaim
Sunitsky
There is a dispute in
Tamud Bavli (Brachot 4b) as to whether one should say Shma with Brachot
before or after Shmone Esre during the evening prayer. The opinion of R.
Yohanan is that Shma is said first while the opinion of R. Yehoshua ben Levi is
that Shmone Esre is said before the Shma. Moreover, while R. Yohanan holds that
Shma is followed by Shmone Esre immediately, according to R. Yehoshua ben Levi
Shmone Esre can be recited separately and Shma with its blessings does not have
to follow immediately after. The practice of all Jews today is to follow R.
Yochanan.
Most Rishonim[1] and
the Shulchan Aruch rule like R. Yohanan and indeed this seems to be the opinion
of the Babylonian Talmud. This is called being “Somech Geula leTefila”, meaning
the blessing of Gaal Yisrael (Who Redeemed Israel) is recited immediately
before the Shmone Esre.   At first sight
it seems that the last blessing after evening Shma (Hashkivenu – let us go to
sleep) only makes sense according to R. Yehoshua ben Levi. Indeed, Talmud Bavli
(ibid) asks how the blessing of Hashkivenu would not be considered an
interruption between Geula and Tefila according to R. Yochanan? It answers that
it is considered “long Geula” (or continuation of the Geula). Our thesis is
that in Palestine in Talmudic times, the opinion of R. Yehoshua ben Levi was
the more accepted shita and moreover that they used to say Hashkivenu as the
last blessing before going to sleep (as we say Hamapil[2]).
Rashi (Brachot
2a) brings in the name of Talmud Yerushlami: Why do we say Shma in the
synagogue in the evening, even though this is done before[3] the
earliest time to fulfil the obligation? It answers that we do this  כדי לעמוד בתפלה
מתוך דברי תורה
While it seems from
Rashi that they said Shma with the blessings before Shmone Esre[4], the Tosafot
(ibid) in the name of R. Tam[5] says that
they used to simply recite Shma without blessings before Maariv, just like we
say Ashre before Mincha. Later on they would say Shma with the blessings
following R. Yehoshua ben Levi.  Indeed
the sugia further in the same Yerushalmi (1:1) supports this interpretation entirely[6]:
מילתיה אמרה שאין אמר דברים
אחר אמת ויציב מילתיה דרבי שמואל בר נחמני אמר כן רבי שמואל בר נחמני כד הוה נחית
לעיבורה הוה מקבל רבי יעקב גרוסה והוה רבי זעירא מטמר ביני קופייא משמענא היך הוה
קרי שמע והוה קרי וחזר וקרי עד דהו’ שקע מיניה גו שינתיה ומאי טעמא רבי אחא ור’
תחליפא חמוי בשם רבי שמואל בר נחמן רגזו ואל תחטאו אמרו בלבבכם על משכבכם ודומו
סלה מילתיה דר’ יהושע בן לוי פליגא דרבי יהושע בן לוי קרי מזמורים בתרה …
It discusses if it’s
permitted to speak after one already said the blessings after evening Shma[7]. It
mentions R. Yakov Grosa used to not speak after he said Shma with blessings,
and then mentions R. Yehoshua ben Levi[8] who
used to still say various psalms afterwards[9]. 
From the Yerushalmi it
seems that most people used to say Shmone Esre during the daytime, and later
ate their meal[10]
and laid down to sleep[11] saying
the evening Shma with blessings.[12]
We can also explain from
here how the shita of Bet Shamai regarding saying evening Shma while laying
down could have developed. It is unlikely that Shma in the evening was
pronounced in normal position and then in some generation Bet Shamai suddenly
ruled that one has to literally lie down to say it. A more likely scenario is
that it was the norm to recite the evening Shma while lying down and the
dispute of Bet Hillel and Bet Shamai arose as to whether this is the
requirement or is merely done for convenience so as to not interrupt and fall
asleep immediately.
Another obscure shita
we can now explain is in Zohar Hadash (Bereshit 17d in Mosad HaRav Kook
edition
). It mentions that the idea of praying with “redness of the sun”
applies to Maariv, not Mincha[13] like
our Talmud (Brachot 29b). In light of the shita of R. Yeshoshua ben Levi
we can understand this. It seems the ideal time for Maariv according to this
was around sundown. However one cannot fulfill the mitzvah of Shma at this
time. It is also interesting that in Tosefta (Brachot, 3:2) the opinion
of R. Yossi is mentioned that Maariv should be recited at the time of “Neilat
Shearim”.
In conclusion, it seems
that there were some communities where the norm was to recite Shmone Esre of the
evening prayer before Shma with blessings, and these communities apparently
recited the last blessing of Shma (Hashkivenu) in place of our Hamapil.


[1] I am currently unaware of any Rishon that paskened not like R. Yohanan, however
the Meiri writes that “majority” pasken like R. Yohanan, so there must have
been some who did not.
[2] Indeed Yerushlami does not mention the blessing of Hamapil, but it seems they
used to say Hashkiveinu as the last Bracha and fall asleep afterwards. It’s
interesting that our siddurim added Hashkivenu without Hatima at the Seder of
going to sleep even though in reality for us this brocha is not necessary since
we have Hamapil.
[3] It was normal to say the evening Shmone Esre in Eretz Yisrael during day time,
before stars come out (possibly because of the danger to go outside at night as
their synagogues were outside of the city).
[4] As many do today when praying early Maariv.
[5] See also Rosh (Brachot 1:1) and Korban Netaniel (10).
[6] See the commentaries from Baal Sefer Haredim and R. Chaim Kanievky.
It’s possible that Rashi did not see this whole sugia in Yerushlami but only
saw a quote of it in a Gaonic source. In general regarding use of Yerushalmi in
Rashi, see Saul Lieberman’s letter to Solomon Zeitlin published at the end of Saul
Lieberman and the Orthodox
by R. Marc Shapiro, see also the discussion from
Homat Yerushalaim printed in the beginning of standard Yerushalmi
editions.
[7] The Yerushalmi calls the blessing after “Emet Veyatziv” as this was their
Nusach, but our Nusach in the evening is “Emet Veemuna”.
[8] Of course R. Yehoshua ben Levi followed his own shita and said Shma with
Brachot after Shmone Esre. Note that the same sugia before in Yerushalmi also
discusses whether it’s permitted to speak after “Emet Veyatziv”. It continues
with והא תני אין אומר דברים אחד אמת ויציב פתר לה באמת ויציב של שחרית.
[9] This is mentioned in our Talmud (Shevuot 16b) as well.
[10] And the prohibition of eating before Shma did not apply since they read Shma
already even though they did not fulfill their obligation or because they were
eating before the time of Shma arrived.
[11] For
those who did not immediately go to sleep, the Yerushalmi (ibid) indeed
mentions that they should recite Shma (with blessings) before midnight.
[12] Interestingly even at later times when many communities had a custom to say the
evening prayer early, some people recited Shma without Brachot. R. Hai Gaon (Tshuvot
Hagaonim Hahadashot – Emanuel
, 93; this tshuva is brought in Rosh
1:1 and Bet Yosef 235) suggests that the one who is found in such a
congregation should only say Shma without blessings and pray Shmone Esre
together with them, but later one say Shma with Brachot.
[13] Indeed the Talmud there states that in Palestine they cursed the one who prays
Mincha so close to sundown as it may lead to missing the time. Obviously this
does not apply to Maariv for which there is plenty of time afterwards.