Mavericks, Mystics, & False Messiahs: Episodes from the Margins of Jewish History by Rabbi Pini Dunner (Toby Press, 2018)

Reviewed by Rabbi Reuven Chaim Klein

The first chapter of this book sets the tone by introducing the reader to the oft-retold story of the famous 17^th century false Messiah, Shabbetai Tzvi (1626–1676), and how he and his handler Nathan of Gaza bamboozled much of world Jewry. As the story unfolds, more and more people began to believe that Shabbetai Tzvi was indeed the scion of David sent to redeem the Jewish people, but the story climaxes with Shabbetai Tzvi’s conversion to Islam from which point more and more became suspicious of the dubious character. Although he died in near anonymity and was buried in an unmarked grave, the repercussions of his rise and fall still reverberate throughout Jewish history.

Secret followers of Shabbetai Tzvi, known as Sabbateans continued to exist for centuries after Shabbetai Tzvi’s death. They were known for their antinomian behavior and non-standard Kabbalistic teachings. The witch-hunt against Sabbateans led to one of the most explosive controversies in Jewish History, in which Rabbi Yaakov Emden (1697–1776) accused Rabbi Yonatan Eybeschutz (1690–1764) of being a closet follower of Shabbetai Tzvi. Rabbi Dunner dramatizes this story in Chapter 3 of his book, peppering the narrative with details little-known to those who have already heard about the controversy.

In Chapter 4, Rabbi Dunner tells the sordid tale of a seemingly paranoid man named Isaac Neiberg from Mannheim who divorced his young bride of one week in the town of Cleves and fled Germany. The sordidness focuses not on the young groom, but on the rabbinic controversy that erupted over the validity of this man’s gett (“bill of divorce”). The question centered on what sort of insanity passes the Halakhic threshold to legally disqualify a person from effectuating a divorce.

In his concluding remarks, Rabbi Dunner implies that the ruling that this gett was not disqualified later influenced Rabbi Moshe Feinstein (1895–1986), who ruled that a person who is seemingly mentally unstable in some aspects, but is not totally insane, is not rendered a shotah in Halacha. This reviewer had the privilege to sit on a bus next to Rabbi Meir Simcha Auerbach, a son of Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach (1910–1995), who affirmed that his father whole-heartedly agreed with Rabbi Feinstein’s ruling on this matter.

In his work Mateh Levi (§19), Rabbi Mordechai Horovitz (1844–1910) published a responsum that he ascribed to Rabbi Nosson Maaz (1720–1793), a judge on the Frankfurt court, that laid out the reasons for disqualifying the gett. Nonetheless, some have questioned the authenticity of this responsum by claiming that it was not really written by Rabbi Maaz. Despite Rabbi Dunner’s seemingly neutral position on this question, Rabbi Mordechai Emanuel of Beitar Illit, a renowned scholar who edited and published Rabbi Nosson Maaz’s writings wrote to this reviewer that a comparison of the linguistic expressions used in the responsum published by Rabbi Horovitz and those used in Rabbi Maaz’s recently published-for-the-first-time works reveals that the responsum is most likely authentic.

The common denominator among all the misfits and charlatans that Rabbi Dunner discusses in this interesting book is that each chapter has some connection to the City of London (save for the chapter about Shabbetai Tzvi): In his chapter about the Emden-Eybeschutz controversy, Rabbi Dunner mentions that Rabbi Emden’s father, the esteemed author of responsa Chacham Tzvi, was offered the post of the Chief Rabbi of London, but declined. In the chapter about the Cleves Gett, London appears again as the runaway groom’s destination. (By the way, that story concluded with a happy ending, as the young couple later reconciled and remarried.)

Another chapter focuses on the legacy of the folk-doctor Shmuel Falk (1708–1782), popularly known as the Baal Shem of London. He was reputed to have been a master Kabbalist and healer, and much lore has sprung up about him. Rabbi Emden accused him of being a follower of Shabbetai Tzvi, but that remains to be conclusively proven. Interestingly, for many years a portrait of Shmuel Falk was misidentified as that of the more famous Rabbi Yisrael Baal Shem Tov (1698–1760).

Rabbi Dunner also presents the reader with a biographical chapter about the forger Rabbi Yehudah Yudel Rosenberg (1860–1935), who is most known for making the legends about the Maharal of Prague (1512–1526) and the Golem become mainstream, and for publishing a counterfeit commentary to the Haggadah Shel Pesach ascribed to the Maharal. Rabbi Rosenberg also published other forgeries, including a work entitled Choshen Mishpat, which claims that the twelve jewels of the High Priest’s breastplate have made their way to the Belmore Street Museum in London.

Other chapters in this book that pay homage to London by mentioning the Old Smoke include the one devoted to the peculiar story of Lord George Gordon (1751–1793)—a British aristocrat who led a failed revolt against the English crown (look up: The Gordon Riots) and eventually converted to Judaism—and the one dedicated to the fantastic tale of the escapades of an infamous Hungarian Jew named Ignatius Timotheus Trebitsch-Lincoln (1879–1943), whose various occupations include thief, member of the UK Parliament, international spy, and Buddhist monk. I am fairly confident that all these mentions of London are not unrelated to Rabbi Dunner’s hometown.

Although Rabbi Dunner presents this book to a popular audience and therefore did not provide the reader with well-sourced footnotes for every detail that he discusses (as befits a scholar of his caliber), he did offer a conclusion that sheds light on many of the different sources from which he culled information in preparing this captivating book.

Rabbi Dunner is a scion of a great rabbinic family and an alumnus of the most prestigious Yeshivas of contemporary times. He currently serves as a popular rabbi in Beverly Hills, but is also celebrated as a well-known lecturer, scholar, and social critic. His lectures and essays are thoroughly educational (and sometimes even humorous in his own way) and have special appeal to Jews of all stripes—including Hareidim, Religious Zionists, and even Secular Jews. Rabbi Dunner also boasts a magnificent and impressive collection of Judaica, including rare books, documents, leaflets, and pictures related to the history of the Jewish people. These resources no doubt aid Rabbi Dunner in his scholarly and rabbinic expertise.

R. Yudel Rosenberg, R. Mordechai Elefant, and Sexual Abuse

Marc B. Shapiro

1. Many readers of the Seforim Blog are aware of R. Yudel Rosenberg, the fascinating talmid chacham and posek who for some reason was also drawn to forgeries. Ira Robinson has recently authored a complete biography of Rosenberg, A Kabbalist in Montreal: The Life and Times of Rabbi Yudel Rosenberg. This wonderful book is certainly deserving of a complete review on the Seforim Blog, but here I would just like to comment on a criticism of me.

On p. 219 Robinson discusses the letter of R. Hayyim Hezekiah Medini that Rosenberg included in his Sha’arei Zohar Torah.

The letter of Rabbi Medini as published by Yudel Rosenberg has been challenged as a forgery by Rabbi Yaakov Hayyim Sofer, David Zvi Hillman, and Marc B. Shapiro on the grounds that some linguistic elements of the letter are foreign to Rabbi Medini’s style and may well have come from the pen of Rabbi Rosenberg.

In the note to this passage, Robinson refers to my Seforim Blog post here, where in addition to mentioning the points made by R. Sofer,[1] I write:

Let me also add that the way Medini (=Rosenberg) concludes the forged haskamah is not like any of his other letters, which are included in Iggerot Sedei Hemed (Bnei Brak, 2006). In the authentic letters, before his name Medini always adds הצב”י or הצעיר, which he does not do in the forged haskamah. In his authentic letters, he also never closes them by adding to his name רב ומו”ץ בעיר הקדש חברון. Therefore, there can be no doubt that the letter of approbation sent by Medini to Rosenberg is simply another one of the latter’s forgeries.

Robinson states (p. 219 n. 25):

On one of his points Shapiro is mistaken. He wrote in his blog: “In the authentic letters, before his name Medini always adds ha-tsa’ir, which he does not do in the forged haskamah.” In Yudel Rosenberg’s work, the Medini letter does close with yedido ha-tsair.

Here is the haskamah, and indeed Robinson is correct that הצעיר appears. I can’t explain why I wrote otherwise.[2]

Since we are discussing the forged haskamah, let me add two additional points relating to the final lines. I looked through all the letters in Iggerot Sedei Hemed and in none of them does this expression appear:

כנפשו הטהורה וכנפש ידידו

Furthermore, R. Medini always adds הי“ו or less commonly ס“ט after his name. Both of these are missing here.

While on the topic of forgeries, let me mention something else. In my post here I deal with the notorious forger, Chaim Bloch. One of the forgeries I mention is his creation of an alternate version of שפוך חמתך in the Passover Haggadah. In Bloch’s forgery, instead of “Pour out Your rage upon the nations that do not know You,” followed by more lines beseeching God to destroy the wicked ones, a more universalist formulation is found that begins with שפוך אהבתך. This forgery, which Bloch claims is from a 1561 Worms manuscript, reads as follows:

Pour out Your love on the nations who have known You and on the kingdoms who call upon Your name. For they show loving-kindness to the seed of Jacob, and they defend Your people Israel from those Who would devour them alive. May they live to see the sukkah of peace spread over Your chosen ones, and to participate in the joy of Your nations.

This translation is taken from R. Jonathan Sacks’ Haggadah (The Applebaum Edition), p. 120. Unfortunately, Sacks did not know about the history of Bloch and thought he was dealing with an authentic text. Sacks introduces the phony prayer as follows:

In one manuscript from Worms, 1521, there is a unique addition to the Haggada alongside “Pour out Your rage.” It is a prayer of thanks for the righteous gentiles throughout history who, rather than persecuting Jews, befriended them and protected them at times of danger.

3. Readers of the Seforim Blog might recall that on a few occasions I cited passages from the memoir of the late R. Mordechai Elefant, Rosh Yeshiva of Itri and builder of a vast Torah empire. These were the first times that passages from the memoir that he dictated appeared in print. I was then one of the few people who had a copy of the memoir, and a number of readers can attest that I did not agree to share it with them because I did not have permission from the person who gave it to me. Subsequently, Mishpacha got a copy of it and published some selected (and “touched up”) portions.[3]

In September 2019, R. Pini Dunner[4] published the memoir and you can view it here (Although this site says May 1, 2013, in reality Dunner only uploaded it in 2019.)

Dunner writes:

Rabbi Elefant’s candid memoirs are startling, not just because they reveal much that one would hardly have expected from a top-tier Rosh Yeshiva, but even more because of the very frank revelations he willingly shared regarding the background to his extraordinary life.

I distinctly recall his many sardonic observations about life and people; he was a true iconoclast who had clearly never read the memo about how senior public servants should express themselves, and particularly rabbis. At the same time, he was an extraordinary scholar, who could lecture on any Talmudic topic, without prior warning, to discerning peers and students, dazzling them with both his vast knowledge and his keen intellect.

Those who examine the Elefant memoir will come away shocked that the author was a leading rosh yeshiva. R. Aharon Rakeffet’s response after completing the memoir was that R. Elefant was “fifty percent gadol, fifty percent gangster.”[5] One thing is sure: R. Elefant was one of the most fascinating Torah scholars in recent memory, and there really was no one like him.

Anyone who reads the memoir must wonder why R. Elefant would have wanted himself to be remembered in the way the memoir describes. Certainly, no one whose only exposure to R. Elefant is through his Torah works could imagine the author’s colorful life. In fact, in R. Elefant’s posthumously published Mi-Zahav Mordechai he is described on the title page as שר התורה הגאון האמיתי.

R. Elefant was obviously an unusual person, and as with other writers of memoirs in rabbinic history (e.g., R. Leon Modena, R. Jacob Emden, R. Elijah David Rabinowitz-Teomim), he was an independent thinker who did not believe in following the herd. R. Elefant, as with all memoir writers, wanted us to learn about his experiences and views, things we would not know about if we only looked at his yeshiva persona.

I asked R. Nathan Kamenetsky about R. Elefant after I read the memoir, and I gave R. Kamenetsky a copy of it. (R. Kamenetsky worked closely with R. Elefant in Itri). But I did not know R. Elefant, so anything I suggest will be speculation.

When I finished reading the memoir, and was wondering why R. Elefant would want all this unusual information made public, I thought of two possible reasons. The first is pride, to show that one can be a talmudic scholar—and R. Elefant was an authentically great one—and at the same time be “with it”, that is, to be able to travel around the world and have relationships with all sorts of unusual people. Looking at matters this way, the memoir can perhaps be seen as subversive, in that although R. Elefant lived in one world, and had great respect for the rabbis of that world, he also happily lived in another world and wanted to show people how he did it.

The other possibility I thought of is that R. Elefant actually felt guilty about how he lived his life, and the memoir was his way of making matters right, as it were. He was a rosh yeshiva and was therefore given great respect. He was also close to a number of gedolei Yisrael. Perhaps R. Elefant felt uncomfortable in his role, where he was regarded as a שר התורה and a גאון אמיתי, since unlike the other roshei yeshiva and gedolim, his life was not one of “only Torah.” Is it possible that R. Elefant was putting it all out there to set the record straight, that is, to let people know who he really was, because in the end he felt guilty that he was placed in the same category as other roshei yeshiva? Could it be that R. Elefant, who had so many interests and couldn’t be happy spending his life entirely in the beit midrash, felt guilty being compared to the roshei yeshiva and gedolim whose entire lives were focused only on Torah study and spiritual improvement? I can’t help but think that if R. Elefant had children, and was busy raising them, he wouldn’t have had his wanderlust and need for adventure.

R. Elefant himself tells us that in addition to his “lamdan side,” he also has a “shaygetz (irreligious) side” (p. 40). I cannot imagine any other rosh yeshiva saying such a thing about himself. R. Elefant’s “shaygetz side” was not something that most would have known about had he not revealed it, and it is this side of him that people have found shocking. Obviously, R. Elefant knew they would find it shocking, yet he still wished to make it public. My sense is that he was a man of truth, and did not want to pretend. He wanted people to know what he was about, with all of his complexity.

I think it is very telling that after mentioning his “shaygetz side,” R. Elefant adds, “Thank G-d that side of me didn’t manifest itself in my students.” This line shows that, at the end of the day, R. Elefant was not very proud of this side of him, which I think lends credence to my suggestion that the memoir was his way of setting the record straight so that the world not think of him as someone he was not. (A close student of R. Elefant told me he liked this suggestion.) Also noteworthy is that right at the beginning of the memoir, R. Elefant states: “But I don’t kid myself. I know I’m not a spiritual model for my students, nor do I ever make out that I am.” 

Even if I am wrong in discerning R. Elefant’s ultimate motivation, memoirs by their nature provoke thoughts in the reader, and the two suggestions I mention are what the memoir brought to my mind.

There are those who knew R. Elefant who believe that one must distinguish between his younger days, when he was completely engrossed in Torah study, and later in life when he realized that he had a knack for raising money. It was then that he started traveling the world and hanging out with celebrities, politicians, and other colorful characters. Some will regard this as a limud zekhut for the entire bizarre and eye-opening memoir. Others will probably say that while R. Elefant raised a lot of money and built a Torah empire, the toll it took on him, as seen in how he chose to portray himself in his own memoir, shows that it was not worth it.

The copy of the memoir that Dunner placed online has become internationally famous, and you have to love the title he gave it: “An Elephant Never Forgets”. Yet Dunner’s copy is missing the first page, so let me provide it now.

In Dunner’s copy the handwriting on p. 59 can’t be read. Here are pages 58-59 from my copy so you can see the passage in its entirety.

The first thing to note is that R. Elefant’s claim that Saul Lieberman felt that he should have been made chief rabbi, and because he didn’t get this he went to JTS, is completely mistaken (as is much else in the memoir). R. Kook died in 1935 when Lieberman was 37 years old. At that young age he certainly never had any thoughts of becoming chief rabbi. The language “first chief rabbi of Israel” also doesn’t make any sense, as Lieberman left Israel for JTS when it was still Palestine.

Lieberman was actually a big supporter of his friend R. Isaac Herzog’s candidacy for the Chief Rabbinate. (Even when he was in Ireland, R. Herzog was a member of the advisory board of the Harry Fischel Institute which Lieberman headed at the time of R. Kook’s death.[6]) Chaim Herzog writes that his grandfather, R. Samuel Isaac Hillman, and Lieberman “organized a small campaign staff” to support R. Herzog’s election.[7] When R. Herzog was chosen, Lieberman was one of the signatories on the document proclaiming him Chief Rabbi. (I thank the late R. Eitam Henkin for sending me this.)[8]

R. Elefant then refers to R. Avraham Yisrael Moshe Solomon as a noted talmid chacham. Yet he was never a rav in Shanghai and he was not the father of Rabbi Baruch Shimon Solomon of Petah Tikvah. The story dealing with R. Kook, which is a famous one, is also mixed up. What was said to the Brisker Rav—and there are different versions concerning who said it—is that in R. Kook’s eyes all Jews are like family, and that is why he is so friendly with them. The version R. Elefant offers makes no sense, as R. Solomon’s comment to the Brisker Rav does not follow from what the Brisker Rav told him. In the note on the left side of the page, someone added [9]: “By R’ Kook every Yid is מבשרך אל תשעלם.”

The story at the bottom of the second page is unfortunate and does not make R. Elefant look good, as we see that he did not know of the view that one can cook in a keli sheni. This was obviously what Lieberman held, and this was also the view of R. Chaim Soloveitchik and R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik. R. Hershel Schachter writes as follows in Nefesh ha-Rav, p. 170:

במשנה ברורה (סי‘ שי“ח ס“ק ל“ט) הביא דעת כמה מן האחרונים להחמיר שלא לעשות תה, אפילו בכלי שני. ורבנו אמר בזה הלשון – שהסבא שלו היה מדקדק במצוות, והיה משתמש בשקיות תה בכלי שני, ואף הוא היה נוהג אחריו להקל בזה ג“כ

The story is also unfortunate as all R. Elefant had to do was ask Lieberman why he was using the tea bag in a keli sheni, and he would have been given the answer. Although one can criticize Lieberman’s association with the Jewish Theological Seminary, it is not every day that one is in the presence of someone with indescribable knowledge of Bavli, Yerushalmi, Tosefta, and Midrash. I would have assumed that R. Elefant would have taken advantage of the time he was with Lieberman for something more constructive than rebuking him.

4. In his recent Seforim Blog post here, Edward Reichman mentions R. Judah Messer Leon and his book Nofet Tzufim which was published in 1475. He also mentions that Nofet Tzufim was the answer to one of my earlier quizzes, where I asked what was the first Hebrew book published in the lifetime of its author. See here. In his post, Reichman discusses another fascinating book, R. Abraham Portaleone’s Shiltei ha-Giborim (Mantua, 1612 [Reichman mistakenly gives the date as 1607]). This book also has the honor of being “a first,” for it was the first Hebrew book to use European punctuation, including the question mark.[10]

5. The Chaim Walder affair has once again brought the issue of sexual abuse to the limelight. It also looks like the fallout from this event, unlike earlier scandals, will have a real impact in the haredi world, as many rabbis really are taking the issue seriously. What is needed is a scholarly study of how rabbis over the years have responded to the issue of sexual abuse. I am not referring to a work designed to condemn the rabbis for not doing enough, but to an academic study that would show how responses have changed over the years, how some rabbis took the matter seriously and other did not, and how with more understanding of the effects of sexual abuse rabbinic attitudes began to change.

One example of the sort of sources that would be used in such a study is R. Elijah Rabinowitz-Teomim (Aderet), Ma’aneh Eliyahu, no. 32. The Aderet deals with a case where a girl was raped by two young Jewish men. Her family wanted to report this to the police so that the rapists would receive a fitting punishment. However, the Aderet tells us that he convinced the family not to make a public issue of the matter, so as to prevent a hillul ha-shem, and to avoid confrontation with dangerous people.

דברתי אל לבם להשקיט הדבר, לבל יתחלל שם ישראל בעמים מהפקרות ופריצות צעירי הנערים, לאנוס ולנאוף ולחלל שבת ולרצוח, וגם יש סכנה בדבר לריב עם עזי פנים כמותם, ושמעו אלי

The first reason, avoidance of hillul ha-shem, certainly remains a significant factor today in the desire to keep matters of sexual abuse from being publicly aired.

Another relevant ruling, which shows how matters were handled in the past by a truly great figure, is found in R. Menachem Mendel Schneersohn (the third Lubavitcher Rebbe), Tzemah Tzedek, Yoreh Deah, no. 237. R. Schneersohn was asked the following question: A rabbi was playing with a נער on Purim and stuck his hands into the pants of the youth. The rabbi claimed that he did so because he (the rabbi) was unable to perform sexually. He thought that this was due to his small testicles, and he wanted to see if he was unusual in this regard. In other words, the rabbi was conducting a medical examination on the youth, and one can only wonder how many other boys were also subjected to this rabbi’s examinations. R. Schneersohn decided that the rabbi should not be removed from his position, as he provided a good explanation for his behavior.

What we see from these responsa (and others can be mentioned) is how much attitudes have changed in modern times. Our response would be very different than that of the Tzemach Tzedek, and I think we all would find the “justification” the abusive rabbi offered to be ludicrous, but that is only because we have been exposed to many things, including crimes perpetrated by trusted religious figures, that people in the Tzemach Tzedek’s day could never have imagined.[10]

6. As this post has discussed forgeries, I must call attention to a bombshell new book with wide-ranging implications by R. Moshe Hillel. It is titled חזון טברימון and makes a strong case that R. Yaakov Moshe Toledano created many forged documents. Often we think of forgers as shady characters, however R. Toledano was a respected rav who held a number of important positions, including Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv. In the election for Sephardic Chief Rabbi of the State of Israel, he lost to R. Isaac Nissim. R. Toledano was also a posek who authored the responsa volume Yam ha-Gadol.

It is beyond depressing to think that such a distinguished person could have been responsible for numerous forgeries. If Hillel’s claim is found to be accurate, a good of deal of scholarship, which relies on documents published by Toledano, has to be thrown out. This is every scholar’s nightmare, that the conclusions he or she reaches are based on fraudulent information.

Hillel also argues that the location of R. Moses Hayyim Luzzatto’s grave in Tiberias, which has become a popular pilgrimage site, is an invention of R. Toledano who created a phony “tradition”. For some initial discussion of Hillel’s book, see here where you can also download the book. Those interesting in purchasing a copy should contact Eliezer Brodt.

7. This summer my Torah in Motion trips resume. You can find information about them here.

8. For those interested in my Iggerot Malkhei Rabbanan, copies are still available at Mizrahi Book Store here.

9. Some years ago, I discovered at the University of Scranton a VHS tape of a 1985 lecture from Prof. Isadore Twersky. (I had already known of this lecture, as when I arrived in Scranton one of my colleagues mentioned to me how unusual it was that Twersky sat for his presentation.) I turned the VHS into a DVD, and a few weeks ago I had the tech people at Scranton turn it into a digital file and upload it to the University of Scranton’s YouTube channel. You can see the video here. This is the only video of a Twersky lecture to be found on the internet, and I am sorry that the sound is not so good. I don’t know whose idea it was to set up an Israeli flag next to Twersky as he spoke. If you look at the beginning of the video you can see that Twersky was actually sitting right in front of a cross, so maybe someone thought that a Jewish star was also needed. I know of only one other video where you can hear Twersky speaking, and that is found here where he introduces Chaim Grade.

Quiz

1. In section 4 I mentioned some bibliographical firsts, so for a quiz question I ask the following: Which Hebrew book was the first one to use footnotes (and the footnotes even used Arabic numerals)?

2. For those who would like a different sort of quiz question: Soon it will be Pesach, so please point to a halakhah on Pesach that the Shulhan Arukh decides in accord with the Rosh, while the Rama records the practice in accord with the Rambam and the Rif.

Answers should be sent to me at shapirom2 at scranton.edu 

***********

[1] I did not refer to R. David Zvi Hillman’s letter which appears in Etz Hayyim 10 (5770), p. 379.
[2] As mentioned, Robinson’s book deserves an extensive review, but here is one bibliographical point. On pp. 134ff., Robinson discusses R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach’s correspondence with Rosenberg concerning the halakhic status of electricity. Robinson states that R. Auerbach’s Jan. 8, 1935 letter that strongly criticizes Rosenberg’s approach is unpublished. Yet the letter actually appears in R. Auerbach’s Meorei Esh ha-Shalem (Jerusalem, 5770), pp. 368ff.
[3] Mishpacha, Dec. 18, 2013.
[4] See here. Even before Dunner published the memoir, his copy was circulating and was placed online in June 2019. See here.
[5] Listen here at minute 72.
[6] See Sefer ha-Yovel for Harry Fischel (Jerusalem, 1935), Hebrew section, pp. 11, 20, English section, p. 8.
[7] Chaim Herzog, Living History (New York, 1996), p. 28 (called to my attention by Rabbi Jacob Yellin). According to Chaim Herzog, Lieberman would become his parents’ closest friend. See Elijah J. Schochet and Solomon Spiro, Saul Lieberman: The Man and His Work (New York, 2005), p. 52.
[8] In 1935 R. Herzog was a candidate for the chief rabbinate of Tel Aviv. The other candidates were R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik and R. Moshe Avigdor Amiel. It is of interest that the Hazon Ish supported R. Herzog’s candidacy. See Dov Eliach, Be-Sod Siah (Jerusalem, 2018), pp. 258-259. One might have expected R. Meir Berlin (Bar-Ilan), the great Mizrachi leader (and Lieberman’s father-in-law), to have supported R. Herzog or R. Amiel as they were both leading figures in Mizrachi, while R. Soloveitchik had no Mizrachi connections at this time. Yet because of his familial connection to R. Soloveitchik, Berlin put his support behind him. In a Nov. 10, 1935, letter from R. Herzog to Lieberman, R. Herzog writes as follows regarding the lack of support from Berlin, whom he calls מנהיגנו הנערץ והאהוב:

 

אין בלבי שום תרעומות עליו כי סוף סוף הרב הנ“ל הוא קרובו ובל תדין את חבירך וכו‘, ועוד כי בודאי עשה מה שעשה בלב שלם וטהור מתוך הכרתו הפנימית

You can see the letter here where a number of letters from the Lieberman archive have been uploaded. The source of these letters is not indicated, which means that they were not uploaded in accordance with the regulations of the Jewish Theological Seminary Library.
[9] תשעלם should be written תתעלם, and the passage comes from Isaiah 58:7. The verse actually has לא instead of אל. Yet a number of early rabbinic sources cite the verse with the word אל, so this was probably found in their texts. Indeed, critical editions of the book of Isaiah (Kittel, C.D. Ginsburg) report that many manuscripts have אל. Yet it is interesting that even though the verse appears with לא in every Tanakh printed today, rabbinic authors continue to cite the verse with אל. In fact, the Tolna Rebbe makes a big deal about how the first letters of מבשרך אל תתעלם spell אמת. See Tanḥumekha Yesha’ash’u Nafshi: Tolna (Jerusalem, 2004), pp. 235, 405, 506, 698.
[10] See Cecil Roth, The Jews in the Renaissance (Philadelphia, 1959), p. 315.
[11] R. Solomon ben Adret, She’elot u-Teshuvot ha-Rashba, vol. 1, no. 571(b), deals with a case where a woman accused her husband, who was also a rabbi, of: 1. sexually abusing their son, 2. having sexual relations with his slave, 3. being a heretic. However, in this case it is not clear that the woman was to be believed, as she made the accusations as part of her dispute with her husband. Things got so bad that she hired a non-Jew to bring her accusations before the government, knowing that if she was believed her husband would be burned. (She clearly wanted to get rid of him for good.) This case is discussed by Norman Roth, Jews, Visigoths and Muslims in Medieval Spain (Leiden, 1994), pp. 195-196.

Daf Yomi: Seforim on Yevamos and R’ Eliyhau Gutmacher

By Eliezer Brodt

Daf Yomi just began Yevomos Masseches. This week I had a conversation with Rabbi Moshe Schwed of All Daf. The purpose of the conversation was to briefly highlight some of the rishonim and acharonim “out there” on this messechtah, adding some anecdotes of interest about them.

It is available for viewing here and here:

A few weeks earlier I gave a presentation, also part of this new series, devoted exclusively to R’ Eliyahu Gutmacher. It is available for viewing here and here.

This is an experiment which we are trying on the Seforim Blog and we hope to have other presentations from others over time. Feedback or comments of any sort are appreciated.

This is the ninth and tenth such conversation I have had with him of this kind this year (earlier we discussed Yerushalmi Shekalim [here], Yoma [here], Rosh Hashanah [here] Taanis [here] Megillah [here] and Moed Koton part one [here], part two is here, and part three is here).

Torah Genius, Infallibility and Augmented Intelligence

by Avinoam Fraenkel

For details of Avinoam Fraenkel’s new book, Shomer Emunim: The Introduction to Kabbalah, and his previous two-volume Nefesh HaTzimtzum, see here.

To view his series of short Shomer Emunim Kabbalah explainers, that introduce the basic concepts of Arizal’s Kabbalah in the context of contemporary science and technology, see here.

This essay explores the nature of Torah genius, and how it can be dramatically enhanced by embracing technology. It investigates why, notwithstanding the remarkable awe-inspiring stature of true Torah geniuses, they must never be thought of as being beyond genuine human error. It also provides some insights on how the accelerating technological changes we are all witnessing around us, may shape the abilities of the Torah genius of the future.

With its central focus on Torah study, Jewish society has always prized scholastic excellence. Throughout the ages, the pursuit of excellence has been used as the primary tool to motivate Torah students. The Talmud therefore queries which of two types of Torah genius is optimal.[1] Would it be the “Sinai,” the person whose predominant skill is the instant recall and mastery over the breadth of scholarly sources, as fresh as if just heard at Mount Sinai? Or could it be the “Oker Harim/uprooter of mountains,” one who primarily has penetratingly deep analytical skills enabling the logical clarification of issues from first principles, even if unaware of all the sources? The Talmud states that the optimal quality is that of the wide erudition of the “Sinai.”

Some argue that the leaning towards being a “Sinai” was only applicable in Talmudic times due to the scarcity of written resources, and that with the proliferation of books in the age of printing, the primary skill that should now be encouraged is the “Oker Harim.” However, it appears that in the main, rabbinic consensus sides with the Talmud, in that while the intellect of the “Oker Harim” is certainly valued, the sheer scope of knowledge of the “Sinai” is deemed advantageous.[2] Jewish literature frequently records instances of great rabbis who were seen to have developed a balanced hybrid of both these areas of genius, referring to them with the ultimate accolade of “Sinai and Oker Harim.”

Nevertheless, it is also clear that gifted genius can sometimes not only be less than optimal in achieving correct Torah understandings but can even be an impediment. R. Avraham Yeshaya Karelitz, the Chazon Ish, beautifully expressed this paradox. Sometimes with great people who are geniuses and are lightning-fast at grasping concepts, it can be that their very genius puts them at risk of simply missing the point, especially with complex, deep topics expressed in difficult language. The Chazon Ish wrote a response challenging the Halachic legal ruling made by R. Yechiel Meir Tukachinsky about the nature of the International Date Line. R. Tukachinsky was known to be a genius not only in Halachic law but also in mathematics, which he used in arriving at this ruling. The Chazon Ish’s Halachic critique of R. Tukachinsky was published in Kuntres Shmoneh Esreh Shaot, where he includes the following statement:

It is human nature to read the contents of a book superficially and quickly, like when reading a letter. One of the attributes of acquiring wisdom is to become accustomed to being precise with the language of the Sages as their words were written with analytical precision. Reading quickly and reading analytically are generally opposites with divergent outcomes. Because of the human tendency to be hasty, which is especially so with those who grasp concepts quickly [with geniuses], it happens that Sages read books and attribute things to them that were not thought of [by their authors] and are indefensible, or that they don’t relate to their subtlety. This is particularly so with matters that are truly deep [expressed] with difficult text that emphasizes their depth.[3]

This same sentiment is also succinctly expressed more than once by the Talmud describing a sage who:

… because of his sharp intellect, he did not [properly] investigate it.[4]

This can be understood to be a possible flaw in the ability of an “Oker Harim,” who is potentially at risk of skimming over material and missing highly relevant information needed to reach a sound conclusion.

It can also be argued that there is a potential risk that can sometimes compromise the ability of a “Sinai” to reach correct conclusions, distorting this kind of sage’s understanding in his Torah study. This potential impediment comes from a combination of two primary factors.

The first factor is the essential nature of what Torah study has become over the millennia of exile. While the Jewish People are living in exile before the final redemption there is a lack of clarity of Torah, which is also in exile. This lack of clarity generates differences in opinion, a position that will remain until the onset of a final process of clarification with the final redemption. Consequently, it has unfortunately become second nature for us to accept differences and even great differences in all areas of potential Torah discussion. These differences deeply impact all the finer points of such discussion, ranging from the Halachic to the philosophical, and include approaches to serving God. This has cultivated a historical Torah study culture of primarily focusing on highlighting differences between views, instead of investing the lion’s share of our study effort on how to reconcile and unify these differences. Acceptance of difference is expressed by our Talmudic Sages with the principle of “both these and these are words of the Living God.”[5] This principle is used when we reach a stalemate in our understanding of a topic and cannot see any possibility of consensus, by allowing us to accept the current status quo and the acceptance of difference. It biases us to primarily focus on highlighting difference and to potentially miss opportunities for seeing unity.[6]

The second factor relates to those gifted with exceptional memories, who seldom forget anything, a key skill of a “Sinai.” The Talmud highlights that there are times when “Shikcha/forgetfulness” can be considered a blessing. In particular, in relation to the passing of beloved ones where the pain of their passing can be so great that if we were not able to forget them, our daily lives would be adversely impacted and, in some cases, we would cease to be properly functional.[7]

The dysfunctional impact of persistent memory was clearly illustrated with the case of Solomon Shereshevsky, a mnemonist, who was studied over a 30 year period starting from the 1920s, by the Russian neuropsychologist, Prof. Alexander Luria.[8] Shereshevsky’s remarkable memory was such that he retained everything he read, saw or heard, including lengthy sequences of random words and numbers, with his memory persisting with instant recall over many years. In later years, this caused Shereshevsky to have great social difficulties. He had total recall of the finest detail of every face he saw and the context in which he saw it. However, over time, a person’s face naturally changes. Most people, with regular memory ability, remember the general appearance of a person’s face without paying much attention to the finer details, and as a result, can recognize them. This is because the general appearance remains static and recognizable over time even if many finer points of detail in a person’s face change. Shereshevsky’s memory however, was so acute and precise that his memory stored the finest details of every face he saw, every time he saw it. His memory bank of faces was so vast that even the subtlest differences over time between faces of the same person were differentiated in his memory. Even differences in mood of a single person would be reflected in a different facial expression, which was enough to distinguish the face seen in one mood state from the face seen in another mood state. The result was Shereshevsky’s inability to recognize that it was the same person. While skilled in the most incredible way with the ability to identify difference, this prevented him from relating to the larger unified picture, to the extent that he became severely disabled in his ability to recognize people.

Although Shereshevsky’s case was extreme, his case helps us to understand the potential risk of error that a “Sinai” can make. Even someone with a lesser memory than Shereshevsky, but still with a significant power of instant recall of textual sources, is at risk of only seeing the difference in detail between them and of missing the bigger picture that may connect them. Such a person is in danger of sometimes not seeing the forest for the trees. This risk is significantly amplified when taking the first factor into account, where our current Torah study culture generally disposes us to focus on differences in the first place.

In sum, every person, no matter how great and how endowed with genius they may be, is therefore potentially at risk of human error.

To put the concept of potential human error on the part of our great leaders into perspective, there is no sage or leader greater than Moshe Our Teacher. Moshe was the primary lawgiver and the direct conduit through which the Jewish People received the details of most of its laws from God. Any possibility of even the slightest error on Moshe’s part would therefore risk provoking people to question the legitimacy of all the information he directly transmitted from God. In stark contrast, every other leader in Jewish History would only base their decisions on details derived from the laws received from Moshe and not directly on the word of God. The gravity of a potential error on their part would therefore be of far less consequence in comparison to an error on Moshe’s part. It would therefore be of paramount importance for Moshe to ensure that there would be no doubt cast over the accuracy of his transmission from God.

Nevertheless, Moshe considered that even with the gravity of this point, it was outweighed by the sheer magnitude of imparting a moral message to the future generations. A message that all Torah sages, no matter how distinguished, brilliant, or Divinely inspired they may be, are at risk of human error. Our Sages candidly explain an error that Moshe made in his statement of the law in an instance where his brother Aharon corrected him. Their comment in the Midrash states the following:

[The verse states] “And Moshe heard and it was good in his eyes,” [upon which the Midrash comments:] he [Moshe] made a public announcement saying, “I erred and my brother Aharon taught me.”[9]

R. Naftali Tzvi Berlin, the Netziv, highlights the significance of Moshe’s message, in his commentary on the Torah:

Moshe made a public announcement that he erred as per [Vayikra] Rabba [above]. The reason for this announcement was to teach the sages of the generation and of the future generations that a great person should neither be embarrassed nor flinch over an error in teaching, as Moshe Our Teacher also erred![10]

Therefore, no matter how great Torah leaders may be, to the extent that our Sages teach us to even accord them with an almost Divine reverence[11] and to carefully study their small talk,[12] no Torah sage is above the potential for human error and there is absolutely no concept of rabbinic infallibility in Judaism.[13]

Moreover, the possibility of potential leadership infallibility is categorically dismissed by the Torah when it explicitly provides instruction for how a Jewish High Court or leader should potentially atone, should it cause or act on an inadvertent error.[14] In Judaism the open acceptance of the possibility of unintentional human error of a leader and the forthright admission of such an error should it happen, does not compromise the preeminence of such a leader. In fact, it is the very mark of true human greatness.

On a deeper level it can be understood that it is the very nature of learning itself that requires errors to be made as part of the process of successful study. The inherent nature of analytical study is the breakdown of a concept into its component parts which are then reconstructed into a refined idea. This process is intrinsically prone to potential error as it is not straightforward to produce a refined idea from a place of conceptual breakdown. It is as the Talmud unequivocally states:

No person establishes [a proper understanding of] words of Torah unless he has first stumbled over [his interpretation of] them.[15]

R. Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, the Ramchal, amplifies this sentiment:

There is no sage that will not err and will not need to learn from his colleagues, and in many instances even from his students.[16]

R. Yosef Ergas highlights that this is even true for the most accomplished Torah scholar who regularly studies the deepest parts of the Torah, the Acts of Merkava and Creation:

It is impossible for even one who regularly studies the Acts of Merkava and Creation, not to be caused to stumble over them with some incorrect analogy and the like, to the extent that he needs the rebuke of admonition to cleanse him.[17]

Notwithstanding the sheer awe required to be accorded to one’s Torah teacher and ultimately to the Torah Sages, it does not mean there is no latitude for independent thought on the part of the student. On the contrary, the essential nature of true Torah study is such that all Torah students are actively encouraged to intellectually engage with the teachings handed down to them, independently debating and analyzing them within the framework of Torah. It was no less than R. Chaim Volozhin, a Torah sage of immense stature who deeply venerated his teachers,[18] who explains that it is the process of studious debate with one’s teacher which refines and expands a person’s understanding of Torah. He refers to it as “the war of Torah”[19] and that in the context of this war, even a father and son and a teacher and student are respectfully pitched as enemies in debate against each other[20] and that “it is forbidden for a student to accept his teacher’s words when he has serious questions about them and that sometimes the truth is with the student.”[21] It is significant that R. Chaim’s position of a student requiring independent thought was encouraged by no less than his own primary teacher, the Vilna Gaon.[22]

While it is rare for a Torah genius to err in his studies, should such an error genuinely be found, it in no way compromises the stature of that Torah sage, and that sage’s general teachings are all very much worthy of deep and close study.[23] Nevertheless, as has already been highlighted, it is the very nature of genius itself that can cause a true Torah sage to be disposed to occasional error. See examples of such occasional error in the note.[24]

As technology progresses in our current age of the “Digital Transformation,” Torah accessibility has and is being transformed in ways previously unimaginable even just a few decades ago. The widespread immediacy of textual and analytic access to huge libraries of Torah sources, has already fundamentally revolutionized the ways in which we can learn Torah. Therefore, it is now highly relevant to ask if the skills required to optimize Torah study excellence have changed in any way. More specifically, what skills should we reasonably expect the “Sinai” or a “Oker Harim” to have to acquire in our Information Age? Furthermore, is there scope to seriously reconsider which of the “Sinai” or the “Oker Harim” may now be thought of as being optimal?

Before presenting an approach to this, it is relevant to appreciate the nature of this revolutionary advancement and exactly why a change in skillset may be needed. This understanding delves deeply into the very essence of how humanity is being transformed by the Digital Transformation. Physical human beings are far from what most people conceive. We are not independent beings, separated from other life forms and materials in our world environment. Rather, we are a symbiotic composite of all those life forms and our lives are entirely dependent on them.

This is captured by an ancient understanding that there are 4 very general levels of created physical existence. These 4 levels are integrated in that they hierarchically build upon each other. First there is the inanimate, the basic minerals and materials from which everything is constructed. Then there is plant life. This is followed by animal life. The fourth and highest level is human life, a level characterized by speech, our ability to communicate in a sophisticated way. The key point here is that each higher level is a composite of all the lower levels. A human being is therefore a symbiosis of the mineral, plant and animal levels, with additional intellectual and communication dimensions that makes a person uniquely human. Surprisingly to many, the majority of the cells within a human body do not have human DNA and cannot be considered human. Nevertheless, without them a human cannot live. One example is the microbiota cells in the gut that form an essential part of digestive process. Another is the need for bacteria to stimulate the postnatal development of the brain. A human is nothing less than a symbiosis of all these levels, a remarkable ecosystem where these levels are integrated through a mind bogglingly complex set of interacting processes that are totally dependent on the wider environment.[25]

With the Digital Transformation, the ecosystem of mankind’s wider environment is fundamentally changing. It is now possible for a person to supplement and augment his intellectual abilities with computer resources. This is such that each component, the human brain (an analog processor) and the computer (a digital processor), combine their unique abilities to optimize problem solving and intellectual processes.

A striking example of this was demonstrated in the world of chess. Over an extended period, computers had been entered into chess tournaments pitted against the chess grandmasters. For many years the grandmasters always won these competitions. However, with the accelerating improvements in computing power, the inevitable happened in 1997. IBM’s Deep Blue supercomputer beat the reigning world champion, Gary Kasparov. In the face of the subsequent prospect of computers always defeating humans, a new type of chess tournament was invented. “Freestyle” tournaments were introduced where teams of human chess players and/or computers would play against each other. The shock came in 2005, when two amateur chess players with strong chess programming skills using ordinary computers, won the tournament, beating several teams of grandmasters who were supported by well-known advanced chess computers. The secret of this success is that certain human skills are unmatched by even the most powerful digital computers such that when humans and computers team up with optimum balance, the refined combination of their complementary skills gives such a team an unprecedented advantage. This resulted in an optimized inexpert human and ordinary computing hybrid that surpassed both grandmaster and supercomputer excellence.

With this in mind, we can now consider how the skills of a “Sinai” and “Oker Harim” may need to be enhanced. Traditionally, the primary skill of a “Sinai” would be to accurately amass Torah information. However, with the technological resources available today, everyone has immediate access to extensive databases and search capabilities of Jewish resources, such as the Bar-Ilan Responsa project, D.B.S., Sefaria, Hebrewbooks, Otzar HaChochma and many other internet resources. The sheer amount of information available at everyone’s fingertips far eclipses the amassed knowledge and the accurate immediacy of access to it of almost every historic “Sinai.” The skillset required to command this incredible body of knowledge is no longer the ability to amass it in the first place. Rather it is the ability to learn how to quickly identify what may be relevant out of this huge amount of information when pursuing a specific inquiry.

This is significantly assisted by mastering the use of sophisticated search tools. To do this efficiently, in addition to some computing skills needed to understand data and how to maximize use of search technology, new Torah study skills are required. To optimize searching, a deep understanding is needed of the expected similarities and differences in word usage, expression deployment and conceptual coded nuance, together with word and expression spelling differences, across the vast history of Jewish scholarship. The more effective this combined understanding, the more focused the search query and the smaller the search results. The search results can still often be large and will then require expert perusal to quickly identify which sources found are most likely to be relevant to probe further, to shed light on the inquiry being investigated. So, it seems that the key skill of a modern day “Sinai” is already fundamentally transformed and is now more about harvesting relevant information rather than having to acquire it all in the first place.

On the other hand, the primary skill of the “Oker Harim” has traditionally been one of deep analysis driven by the ability to ask penetrating questions. Perhaps the effectiveness of this skill is captured by the well-known adage “a Torah scholar’s question is already half the answer.”[26] Advanced computer searches now make it possible to ask a whole different genre of insightful questions, that were not previously possible. It is now relatively easy to investigate the development of concepts aided by the original context, usage and development of words, expressions and concepts, and to trace their historical usage over time. The greater the insight in framing the search question, the more refined the search result, enhancing the ability to harvest focused sources from which meaningful answers can be constructed. Therefore, while the adoption of technology augments the “Oker Harim’s” toolkit and dramatically extends his skillset, it has not yet fundamentally replaced it.

However, it could be strongly argued that with the currently available technology the excellence of the transformed “Sinai” is no longer the preserve of the rare genius and now has a lower entry bar accessible to a wider group of people. On the other hand, the qualities of an “Oker Harim” are thus far not yet transformed, but with the augmented ability of using technology to extend the depth of analysis, there is now an enhanced ability for the “Oker Harim” to widen the excellence gap. Moreover, it is now more than ever within the reach of an “Oker Harim” to also garner most of the skill of a current day “Sinai.” There is therefore scope to now consider that the optimum skill for scholastic excellence in Torah may indeed be that of the “Oker Harim.”[27]

Nevertheless, we are only at the beginning of the Digital Transformation. Attempting to predict what a future technology augmented “Sinai” or “Oker Harim” may be capable of, is near impossible. Technology industry experts already openly admit that with the incredible accelerating pace of technological change they can no longer predict what the technological landscape will look like in even as early as 5 years’ time. Technologies in areas such as cloud computing, big data, predictive analysis, artificial intelligence, swarm intelligence, augmented intelligence, brain research and biotechnology are rapidly developing and integrating together in truly unpredictable ways.

Although there is no clear visibility of how all this will be manifest, perhaps the most significant expected transformative change is the physical integration of humans with technology. Currently, this is at an embryonic stage, however it does already exist. Brain integrated technology already enables paraplegics to walk. Monkeys can already interact with computers through wireless brain implanted computer chips.[28] It is therefore only a matter of time before the human mind will become directly connected to an implanted computer and there will ultimately be a true symbiosis of humans with technology, literally taking mankind to a new level of existence. In this context it is impossible to predict what future transformations of the “Sinai” and “Oker Harim” will look like. One can however safely conclude that the future landscape for Torah study excellence will be unimaginably transformed and future Torah students will be motivated by the emergence of a new breed of technologically augmented Torah genius.[29]

Appreciations of Gedolei Yisroel

By Avraham Willner

From conversation with Harav Shmaryahu Shulman zt’l. Rav in Jersey City and Norwich Ct. Member of the Agudas Harabbonim. Author of Be’er Sarim, Ohr Layesharim and more.

In previous posts, I focused on anecdotes, thoughts and quotes I heard Rav Shulman repeat on occasion from the vast array of Gedolei Yisroel with whom he was privileged to share a close relationship. Presented here are a collection of Rav Shulman’s appreciations and admirations of various Gedolei Yisroel that emerged from the countless conversations I have had with Rav Shulman over the course of nearly two decades.

Note: in my previous post. Rav Shulman’s memories of Rav Ahron Kotler, there was a technical error in formatting the Hebrew text for an English platform resulting in some of the footnotes disarranging of several lines. To avoid this from reoccurring, all footnotes were inserted into the text, proceeded and followed by the{ } symbols.

הערכות וזכרונות מו“ר הרב שמרי‘ שולמאן זצ“ל על גדולי ישראל

‘חלק א

א] כשיצא לאור ספרו הראשון באר שרים על סוגיות הש”ס בשנת תשי”א, שלח הספר כתשורה לכמה רבנים וראשי ישיבות וביניהם הרב יצחק הוטנר זצ”ל ששלח לו בחזרה מכתב עם קצת הערות על הספר וצי’ק על סך חמישים דולר! שהיה סכום עצום אז. ואמר לי מו”ר שבכלל לא היה לו קשר עם רב הוטנר מקודם, וברור לו שצי’ק ששלח היה רק מטובת ליבו שברצונו לחזק בן תורה אמריקאי צעיר שכותב חידושים בש”ס דבר נדיר ביותר אז

ב] לפני שהדפיס ספרו באר שרים היה מרצה כמה מחידושיו לפני הרב משה פיינשטיין זצ”ל ואם הסכים לדבריו אז היה מכניס אותם לדפוס. ואמר לי שהספר לא היה על מסכת אחת רק איסוף של חידושיו על הש”ס, וכל פעם שנכנס להרב משה להציע לו חידושיו היה על ענינים אחרים ומסכתות אחרות, ועם כל זה כל פעם שדיבר עם הרב משה היה לו שליטה חזקה על הסוגיא על אתר בלי אפילו להביט בגמ’ לרענן עצמו לא היה צריך, ואמר מו”ר שהיה נראה לו כאילו כעת עוסק הרב משה באותה סוגיא. פעם אחד הציע לו חידוש ארוך ומיד כשסיים דבריו, אמר לו הרב משה שכבר כתוב כן בשער המלך, ואמר לי מו”ר מיד כשחזר הביתה מחק אותו סימן שאין ברצונו לכתוב דבר שכבר נמצא באחרונים, ולכתוב בסוף שוב ראיתי בשער המלך לא ניחא ליה לכן רק מחק אותו סימן

{היה למו”ר קשר חזק עם הרב משה זצ”ל, ומלבד שהיה מרבה לספר אודות גאונתו שהיה להפליא, שמעתי הרבה פעמים ממנו אודות מידות הנעימות שהיה להרב משה. פעם סיפרתי למו”ר סיפור ששמעתי על הרב משה איך שלא הקפיד על אחד שזלזל בכבודו וכו’ והגיב מו”ר שהרב משה לא רק לא הקפיד, הרב משה בכלל לא ידע מה זה המילים מקפיד וקפדות וכו’ והיה מספר לי שהוא ראה כמה פעמים שבאמצע שיעור כללי נכנס אחד לאסוף כסף, והרב משה היה מפסיק אפילו באמצע משפט, לתת צדקה ולומר קצת דברי ברכה ועידוד והיה חוזר מיד להמילה שהפסיק בה והיה ממשיך שיעורו, והוסיף מו”ר שרק אצל הרב משה היה דבר כזה, אף ישיבה אחרת לא יתנה לאסוף כסף באמצע שיעור.}

ג] אמר לי בזה”ל “שהגן עדן שלי כאן בעולם הזה היה כשהייתי רב בדזערסי סיטי מעבר לנהר מישיבת תפארת ירושלים והייתי נוסע שם תמיד ודיברתי עם הרב משה ועם אחיינו הרב מיכל פיינשטיין זצ”ל ביחד”. ואמר לי שהרב משה מאוד אהב את הרב מיכל והיה קשה עליו פרידתו כשעלה ארצה, והיו נמצאים ביחד הרבה ודיברו בכל אורך ורוחב של סוגיות הש”ס, והוסיף מו”ר שהוא זוכר שלא רק בהישיבה ישבו יחד, גם ברחובות העיר זוכר אותם מטיילים ביחד. ואמר לי מו”ר שהרב מיכל היה בקי גדול בטהרות (מלבד שאר גדלותו בתורה) והיה מוסר שיעור לבעלי בתים בבית כנסת אחת שבאייסט סייד במשניות טהרות

ד] אמר לי מו”ר שאף שכל הלומדות של העולם הישיבות נכללות בספרי הדברות משה, מ”מ לא היה הרב משה מדבר או כותב בסגנון הישיבתי היינו הביטויים שמדברים בישיבות, רק היה מדבר בפשטות,ונתן לי דוגמא – שהרב משה היה אומר שעל אדם לעשות כך וכך ולא היה אומר שהוא “דין בגברא” וכדומה. ואמר לי מו”ר כשהוא זכה לדבר עם הרב משה והרב מיכל ביחד, כשהרב משה היה אומר חידוש בלומדות והיה אומר אותו בפשטות היה הרב מיכל מתערב עם חיוך ואומר למו”ר “שהוא (הרב משה) מתכוון לומר שזה דין בגברא או דין בחפצה” ושאר ביטויים ישיבתיות

ה] ועד כמה עמוקים הם ספרי הדברות משה יש ללמוד ממה שראיתי אצל מו”ר שהיה בעל כשרון עצום וראיתי אותו כמה פעמים לומד בספרים שונים דף אחר דף במהירות רבה ובתפיסה מהירה, ועכ”ז אמר לי מו”ר כשיצא לאור ספר דברות משה על מסכת בבא קמא רצה ללמוד ממנו סימן אחד בשלמותו להבין איך מתורץ כל הקושיות שהקשה הרב משה בתחילת הסימן וכו’ אמר לי שלקח לו שבועיים שלמים ללמוד כל הסימן כדבעי!

ו] מו”ר לא היה ניחא ליה מדיבורים אודות השוואת בין גדולי ישראל ולשפוט מי גדול ממי וכדומה [אני אמרתי לו פעם מה ששמעתי ממו”ר הרב שמואל בירנביום זצ”ל ראש ישיבת מיר ברוקלין שאמר “האיש הכי גדול שהכרתי בחיי היה רבי משה פיינשטיין זצ”ל”{ ושוב רואים גדלותו של הרב משה פיינשטיין זצ”ל, שהרי הרב שמואל היה חניך הישיבות באירופא קודם המלחמה} ושאלתי למו”ר מי היה אדם הכי גדול שהוא הכיר בחייו, וענה לי “אני לא עונה מאחר שלא ניחא לי בדברים כאלו”] ואף על פי כן שמעתי ממנו שהתבטא פעם “המתמיד הכי גדול שראיתי בחיי היה הרב חיים פנחס שיינברג זצ”ל” והסביר זאת משום שהוא זוכר שראה אותו כמה פעמים בתחנת אוטובוס מחכה להאוטובוס להגיע והיה שקוע בלימודו, וסיפר לי שפעם ראה אותו נשען על עמוד ליד התחנה שקוע בלימודו “כאילו הוא נמצא בבית מדרש”

{הוא דבר שהפתיע אותי שלא ניחא לו להביע דעתו מי גדול ממי, אני ראיתי אצל כמה מזקני יוצאי ליטא, וחניכי ישיבות הליטאית של פעם שכולם דיברו פתוח מי גדול ממי וכו’. ובאמת נושא הזה צריך מאמר בפני עצמו איך השתנו הדבר, שהיום שמתי לב שבעולם הישיבות לדון ולשפוט בין גדולי ישראל ובפרט על גדולי ישראל מדורות הקודמות, הוא דבר שלא קיים, הם ראוים הנושא כבזיון התורה וכאבק לשון הרע וכדומה. ואני זכיתי בציעורתי ללמוד בישיבת מיר ברוקלין כשקיים אז השרידים ממיר פולין, והמקצת ששמעתי מהם וביתר מה ששמעתי מתלמידיהם שלמדו אצלהם לזמן ארוך ובפרט ממו”ר ר”מ בישיבת מיר שהיה התלמיד מובהק של הגר”ש בירנבוים זצ”ל, ברור שהנושא הזה היה שיחה רגילה אצליהם, והגר”ש בירנבוים היה מלא וגדוש בדעות מי גדול ממי וכן גם שאר יוצאי מיר פולין לא הסתיר דעותיהם על מי גדול ממי. ואני שמעתי גם מהרב נטע גרינבלט שליט”א שלא רק אמר דעתו על מי גדול ממי אלא שהיה מצטט רבותיו שדיברו פתוח בענין זה ואכמ”ל. (וזכיתי להיות אצל מו”ר, כשבא הרב נטע לביקור חולים אצלו ודיברו מעל שעה ותוך דבריהם, סיפר הרב נטע למו”ר, כשהיה בחור בישיבת תפארת ירושלים היה רב אחד שניסה לשכנע אותו לעזוב תפארת ירושלים כדי שילך ללמוד אצל הרב אהרן קוטלר בלייקוואד, ואותו רב אמר לו שכל הבחורים המצוינים לומדים אצל הרב אהרן. יום אחד כשלחץ עליו אותו רב יותר מדי, הרב נטע אמר לו “ומי אמר לך שרב אהרן יותר גדול מהרב משה?!” והרב נטע תיאר איך שאותו רב הסתכל עליו כאילו הוא (הרב נטע) יצא מדעתו, ואותו רב התרחק ממנו ולא דיבר איתו עוד מילה. (שהיה כל כך פשוט לאותו רב שהרב אהרן יותר גדול). והרב נטע ביקש ממו”ר להביע את דעתו בנושא מי היה יותר גדול הרב אהרן או הרב משה, ומו”ר התחמק מלהשיב, והרב נטע אז אמר ” אין דער וועלט איז אנגענומען אז הרב משה איז געווען גרעסער” (מקובל בעולם שהרב משה היה יותר גדול). וגם על זה לא הגיב מו”ר כלום שלא היה רצונו כלל להתערב בנושא.}

ז] ואף שלא ניחא לדבר בעניני רמה בגדולי ישראל וכדומה, כשהרגיש פגיעה בכבוד התורה היה מביע את דעתו ללא התלבטויות, אני פעם אמרתי לו שראיתי בספר שכתב דברי גנאי על הרב אברהם אהרן יודעלאוויץ זצ”ל רב הכולל לאגה”ק בניו יארק ומחבר שו”ת בית אב ה’ כרכים ועוד הרבה ספרים, התרגז מו”ר ואמר “וואו קומט אים צו הרב יודעלאוויץ” (כלומר שהוא בכלל לא מגיע למדרגתו) ואמר שלהרב יודעלאוויץ היה לו תלמידים יותר גדול מהרב ההוא {ותוך כדי דיבור ‘תיקן’ את עצמו, שהרב יודעלעוויץ לא היה לו תלמידים “אילו היו לו תלמידים בוודאי היו הם גדולים ממנו”} ושמעתי ממנו כמה פעמים שהתלונן שלא העריכו את הרב יודעלאוויץ כדבעי עקב פסקו המפורסם בענין שליחות בחליצה, והעולם לא יודעים שהוא לא היה “סתם רב” אלא שהיה גאון עצום ופוסק בד’ חלקי שלחן ערוך וכו’. וסיפר לי כשהגיע הרב שניאור קוטלר זצ”ל לחופי ארצות הברית, הלך מיד לבקר אצלו ולקבל את פניו, ודיבר איתו במשך זמן ארוך ותוך הדברים התגלגלה השיחה אודות הרב יודעלאוויץ, והרב שניאור אמר לו שחבל שפסקו בענין חליצה “השחיר” דמותו של הרב יודעלאוויץ בעיני העם ולא ידעו על גדלותו.

ט] ועל הרב שניאור קוטלר זצ”ל עצמו, אמר לי מו”ר שהעולם לא העריכו אותו כמו שצריך והיה גאון גדול ובקי בש”ס, ואמר לי באותה פגישה כשקיבל את פניו מיד בבאו לארצות הברית דיבר איתו על כמה סוגיות שונות בש”ס והרב שניאור “ידע הכל”, (“ער האט געקענט איבעראל”, כלשונו) ואמר לי שהסיבה שלא העריכו אותו כמו צריך היה משום שהיה בנו של הרב אהרן קוטלר ומאחר שלא היה במדריגת אביו ביטלו אותו שהוא “לא אביו” אבל לא הבינו שהוא גאון גדול בפני עצמו אף שהוא לא אביו. ודימה אותו להרב צבי רבינאוויץ זצ”ל בנו של הרב יצחק אלחנן ספקטור זצ”ל, שגם הוא לא קיבל את הכבוד המגיע לו עקב שהיה בנו של הרב יצחק אלחנן ולא היה במדרגתו של אביו, ופעם אחת הוסיף מו”ר דאם הוא לא היה בנו של רי”א היו מחשיבים אותו כגאון וגדול, ורק משום שהוא לא אביו לא כיבדו אותו כראוי.

י] באותו פגישה עם הרב שניאור, שאל אותו מו”ר שהוא שמע הרבה בארצה”ב אודות שיעורו של הגרי”ז מבריסק בירושלים, ושאל את הרב שניאור “במה כחו גדול” ומה מיוחד בשיעוריו. וענה הרב שניאור לא כדרך רמי”ם אחרים שמקשים קושיות חזקות היה הגרי”ז, הוא לא הקשה שום דבר, רק קרא את דברי הגמ’ רש”י ותוס’ ומסביר אותם בביאורים קצרים, ועם אותם ביאורים קצרים לא נשאר שום קושיות שמקשים אחרים בספריהם וכו’.

יא] ומדי דברי לעיל אודות הרב יודעלאוויץ, פעם אמרתי למו”ר מה שראיתי בספר עולת שמואל מהרב שמואל בסקין זצ”ל (עמוד 247) שמספר כשאחד מן המזומנים לחתונה, שהיה הגאון ר’ אהרן יודעלעוויץ זצ”ל מכובד לסדר קידושין בשם, ביקר את הרב הנ”ל בזה ששמע ממנו את דרשתו שדרש להזוג זה כמה פעמים שהיה עמו בחתונות אחרות, השיב הרב יודעלאוויץ, ומה הפלא? האם רופא חולים כותב פתק רפואה שונה לכל חולה וחולה, אם כל החולים סובלים מאותה מחלה עצמה?!. וסיפרתי הנ”ל למו”ר שידעתי שהוא יהנה מה”הומור הליטאי”, והגיב שזה מזכיר לו מהרב גדליה סילברסטון זצ”ל הרב דוואשינגטאן הבירה ובעל מחבר ספרים רבים בדרוש ועל הש”ס, שביום כיפור לפני נעילה נשא אותה דרשה שנשא השנה שעברה לפני נעילה, וכשנשאל על כך השיב, אז מה? וכי זה לא אותו מחזור כל שנה! (כלומר שמתפללים אותה נוסח התפילה מדי שנה בשנה).

{ מו”ר לא הכיר אותו אישי, בזמן שמו”ר עבר לוואשינגטון הרב גדליה כבר עלה ארצה, אולם מו”ר שמע הרבה אודותיו מתושבי וואשינגטון שהתפללו אצלו.}

יב] אני שמעתי ממקור מוסמך (מהרב אבא ברונשפיגל שליט”א ה’ ישלח לו רפו”ש) שפעם יצא הרב שמואל וואלק זצ”ל ר”מ בישיבת רי”א ובעמ”ס שערי טהר מחדר שיעורו תוך שהוא אומר לתלמידיו שהוא הולך לבחון הרב יוסף דוב הלוי סולובייציק זצ”ל ראש ישיבת רי”א, לדעת אם הוא “יודע טהרות” וכשחזר לחדר שיעורו אמר לתלמידיו “ער קען טהרות טאקע” (הוא באמת יודע טהרות). ואני שאלתי את מו”ר אם הוא שמע סיפור כזה ומה דעתו עליו, וענה לי שהוא גם כן שמע סיפור הנ”ל מתלמיד ישיבת רי”א שהיה גר בשכונתו בקווינס. ודיברנו קצת על הסיפור ואז אמר לי מו”ר שכל זה דברים מיותרים שהרב יאשע בער לא זקוק להסכמת הרב וואלק, ולא היה צריך שהוא יחזיק ממנו! (כלומר שהרב יאשע בער הוא יותר גדול מהרב וואלק).

{וכדי לדעת כמה גדול הרב יוסף דוב היה, כדאי לדעת עד כמה גדול היה הרב שמואל וואלק, מלבד שהיה למדן מובהק ומחדש בכל התורה כולה וכתב חידושים עמוקים על כל הש”ס, ראוי לציין כשנפטר הרב חיים שטיין זצ”ל ראש ישבת טלז בקליוולאנד, כתבו עליו באחד העיתונים החרדיים שבבחרותו כיבדו אותו הישיבה בטלז לשבת ב”מזרח” יחד עם רבני השיבה! וסיפר לי חותן אחי ר’ ראובן גרשון שליט”א (ראש כולל בקליוולאנד ובעל מחבר ספרים רבים ומו”ל כמה מספרי רבו הרב גיפטר זצ”ל) כשקרא הנ”ל אמר שכל ימיו גדל בין כותלי ישיבת טלז וידע היטב הנהגתם וכו’ ודבר זה כל כך אינו בהתאם לרוח ישיבת טלז, ואמר למרות גדלותו של הרב חיים אי אפשר להאמין למה שכתבו עליו, לכן הלך לשאול היחיד שנשאר בחיים מטלז ליטא, הרב בארון זצ”ל שהיה גר אז בקליוולאנד. ושאל אותו האם זה נכון שהרב חיים ישב במזרח בטלז, וענה שלא היה דברים מעולם והישיבה לא היתה נותנת לאף מבחורי הישיבה לשבת במזרח ואפילו תוך ד’ אמות של המזרח לא היתה נותנת! ושוב הוסיף שאם היתה כן נותנות לבחור לשבת במזרח אז שמואל וואלק יהיה הבחור! ע”כ מה ששמעתי מר’ גרשון. צא וראה גדלותו של הרב יוסף דוב שיותר גדול מכל הנ”ל. }

{וכידוע הרב וואלק היה בקי גדול בטהרות, וגם מחדש גדול בטהרות, ורוב מחלקיו הראשונים של ספרו שערי טהר הם בענינים עמוקים בטהרות. הרב ברונשפיגל אמר לי אז שהרב וואלק היה גאון בכל התורה כולה אבל היה לו אהבה מיוחדת לקדשים וטהרות, ובשיעוריו על המסכתות הישיבתיות היה רגיל להביא משלים ודוגמאות מקדשים וטהרות, וסיפר לי כשלמד בבא בתרא אצלו זוכר שהביא כראיה לחידושו בתוס’ בבא בתרא מדברים עמוקים מקדשים והיה מאוד קשה להבין הכל שלא היה להבחורים הרבה רקע בקדשים וטהרות.}

ובאופן כללי, רגיל היה מו”ר להגן על כבודו של הגרי”ד הלוי ומאוד אכפת לו שהיו אלו שזלזלו בכבודו, וכמה פעמים שמעתי ממנו אודות אלו שפגעו בכבודו של הגרי”ד “הם לא יכולים להבין אפילו השיחת חולין שלו, ומדברים נגדו?!.

יג] היה אומר על הרב הענקין זצ”ל, “שהיה איש אחד שעשה עבודת ארבע אנשים” ותיאר לי איך היה נראה משרדו של הרב הענקין שמו”ר היה אצלו הרבה. הרב הענקין היה מדבר בטלפון להתרים כסף לעזרת תורה, ולידו היה עומד נציג מאגודת הרבנים עם גט בידו שבא לשאול אותו אודות כתיבה איזה שם וכדומה, ומיד שסיים הטלפון היה פוסק השאלה ואז נכנסו אנשים ונשים עם שאלות על עופות ומראות נדה וכדומה ומיד כשגומר איתם היה חוזר לטלפון להתרים עוד וכו’. ומו”ר היה נתפעל איך איש אחד היה מסוגל לעשות כל אלו הדברים יחד ולא היה מחלק חלק מתפקידו לאחרים.

Book Announcements: Five recent works

By Eliezer Brodt

This post serves a dual purpose; first, to describe some new, very interesting seforim and thereby making the Seforim Blog readership aware of their recent publication. Second, to make these works available for purchase for those interested.

Part of the proceeds will be going to support the efforts of the Seforim Blog.

Contact me at Eliezerbrodt@gmail.com for more information about purchasing or for sample pages of these new works.

The first work I would like to mention is:

מאיר רפלד, המהרש“ל וספרו ים של שלמה, 288 עמודים

Dr. Meir Raffeld z”l authored a PhD on the Marshal and his work Yam Shel Shlomo in the Talmud Department of Bar Ilan University which was approved in 1991. Over the years, the work was quoted very often as it is the most comprehensive work on the Yam Shel Shlomo. The Yam Shel Shlomo is one of the most important Halachic works of the 16^th century. Recently the Raffeld Family decided to print the PhD as a book. With the tremendous help of Dr. Aharon Ahrend, the work was just published. This work has in it the original PhD along with updates and corrections that Raffeld wrote over the years. It also has a thorough index and references to his articles related to the Marshal published in his work Netiv Meir.

Here is a ToC of the work:

The second work I would like to mention is

חסדי אבות, פירוש מסכת אבות לרבי דוד פרווינצאלו, (פעל סביב לשנת ש), מבוא 58 עמודים, תלד עמודים, מכתב יד, כולל מבוא מראה מקומות והערות על ידי פ‘ יעקב שמואל שפיגל

This volume was just published by Professor Yaakov Shmuel Spiegel, of Bar-Ilan University’s Talmud department, for the first time from manuscript on Massekhes Avos. This is the fifth work that Speigel has published on Avos from manuscript.

As I have written about him in the past:

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

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

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

He has edited and printed from manuscript many works of Rishonim and Achronim on Massekhes Avos and the Haggadah Shel Pesach (and IYH some more are on the way)…

Another point of interest about Speigel is although he is an Academic and from the Mizrachi world, he is on very good terms with various Charedei scholars. Thus in some of his recent works he thanks Rabbi Shaul Alter, Rosh Yeshiva of Ger who has started reading and commenting about his material. This volume was also read by R’ Alter.

Reviews of other works of his on the Seforim Blog can be found here here, here, here, here and here.

Email me for a PDF of a sample of this new work.

The third work I would like to mention is:

ר‘ משה הלל, חזון טברימון, תעודות מזויפות מבית היוצר של האחים טולידאנו מטבריה, 696 עמודים

A few weeks ago, the very prolific Rabbi Moshe Hillel [Son of Rabbi Yakov Hillel] released a PDF of his latest volume in his recent series of works dealing with exposing forgers and their forgeries titled חזון טברימון.

This volume is devoted to R’ Yakov Moshe Toldedano (1880-1960) and deals with various historical documents that he “discovered” and demonstrates that they are fake. This work is also a biography of Rabbi Toledano and explores various incidents in his life and possible motivations behind some of these forgeries. Similar to previous works in this series, this volume too is an incredible read, 696 pages! Bibliographers and people interested in the world of manuscripts will be sure to enjoy it.

Besides being released as a PDF, the volume was published in an extremely small limited edition. For a very short time, while supplies last, a few copies are available for purchase exclusively through me.

If you are just interested in a copy of the PDF of the work email me to send you a link.

Here is the ToC of the work:

The fourth work I would like to mention is

גיליונות הירושלמי של רבי שאול ליברמן, ג’ חלקים, 2564 עמודים, בעריכת פר’ משה עסיס

No words are really necessary to describe Rabbi Saul Lieberman to readers of the blog, but just in case, I will include one page from the classic article ‘Hamoreh’ written about him by the great Eliezer Shimshon Rosenthal:

This new work publishes for the first time Lieberman’s glosses written on the margins of six different editions of the Yerushalmi found in Lieberman’s library. The glosses were carefully collected and edited for publication by Professor Asis (himself one of the leading experts on the Yerushalmi).

A pdf of some Sample pages is available upon request.

The fifth volume I would like to mention is

  מעגל טוב, יומן מסע של החיד“א, חלק א, מהדיר: ר‘ אסף רביב, כולל הקדמה, 37 עמודים, + 275 עמודים  + נספח בענין החיד“א ומח‘ בין ר‘ יעקב עמדין ור‘ יהונתן אייבשיץ, בעריכת ר‘ אסף רביב

On a personal note (for whatever that is worth) this work that has a special place in my heart as I have to date authored five articles about Maagal Tov and hope to IYH publish more.

A beautiful new edition was just published. The Sha’ar describes it as follows:

כולל המון תמונות, של מפות, אנשים, מקומות, כתבי ידות, יותר מאלף הערות שוליים, חלק אחד בשם ‘פלס מעגל’, הכולל ידיעות חשובות על האישים אשר עמם נפגש הרב, המאורעות השונים אשר פגש בדרכו, כתבי היד אשר ראה ועוד ועוד. וחלק שני בשם ‘המליץ בינותם’, יבאר את סגנונו של המליצי של הרב, ומראה מקומות לכל מטבעות לשונו במרחבי התנ”ך וספרות חז”ל

A brand-new annotated edition of the Chida’s famous Travel Diary, Volume one, 37 pp. intro, 275 pp. text, and an Appendix. It is a tall volume format, glossy paper, full of Illustrations, maps, pictures of people, places, and numerous images of manuscripts throughout the volume. It looks beautiful. The editor has two sections of notes. One section is devoted to deciphering all of the Chida’s Melitzos מליצות. The second section deals with the people whom he met, what he saw and much more.

The author is hard at work on the second part of the Travels.

Some readers of the blog will be familiar with a previous work of R’ Aviv, the fascinating Maaseh Tzadikim of R’ Avraham Kalfon (friend of the Chida) which he published for the first time from manuscript in 2009.

Just to note, an additional edition of the Chida’s Travels came out a few days later from Mechon Hame’or (800 pp.). This is volume fifty of the Mechon’s set of the Chida’s works that they have been publishing in the past few years.

This new edition is very useful; it does not have full Illustrations etc. like the previous one. However, I think that true seforim “addicts” need to own both. The Hamaor edition includes all the travels in one volume. It has useful notes (not as good as the first one). In addition, it has a lot of material related to the Chida, such as his listing of Hanhaghot, numerous stories he collected and seforim he owned. Some of this material was published here for the first time. It also has a section about the Chida and his seforim. 

Sample pages of both are available upon request.

To add to this earlier this year another volume was published called Kuntres Masaos (243 pp.) This material is also from manuscript and is dated and is Torah of his that he saw or discussed while traveling. Some of this was incorporated into his published seforim (some copies are still available for purchase).

Armin Wilkowitch about Shabbes Shekolim in his youth in Russia

by Gabriel Wasserman and Phillip Minden

Shabbes Shekolim (Shabbat Sheqalim) is the first of the four special Sabbaths in or near the month of Adar, when special passages are read from the Torah. In addition to the special readings from the Torah, Ashkenazic Jewry has distinguished these four Sabbaths with the inclusion of special piyyutim in the Sabbath service; these piyyutim – most, and perhaps all – are by Eleazar b. Qallir (or Qillir) of sixth- to seventh-century Eretz Yisrael, and they have been part of the liturgy of Ashkenazic Jewry ever since there has been such a thing as Ashkenazic Jewry, since before the year 1000 CE. Although many Ashkenazic communities today omit the piyyutim for Shekolim, happily there are still many Ashkenazic communities that maintain them through today, unlike many piyyutim for other occasions in the year, which have suffered almost complete extinction in living usage.

(As an aside: In the middle ages, many non-Ashkenazic communities, as well, recited piyyutim, different from the Ashkenazic ones, on the four special Sabbaths of Adar. These have fallen into complete disuse today, other than the piyyut “Mi Khamokha” by R. Judah Hallevi for Shabbat Zakhor. These piyyutim will not be the subject of this post.)

In the past, Shabbes Shekolim and the recitation, or singing, of these piyyutim had an aura of great emotional significance for many Ashkenazic communities. As an example of this, the Seforim Blog will present here a piece by Cantor Armin Wilkowitsch, originally published in the Österreichisch-Ungarische Cantoren-Zeitung (supplement to Die Wahrheit), vol. 24 no. 10 (4 March 1904), p. 10. Wilkowitsch writes here about the composition of a setting for the piyyut “Eshkol Ivvuy” (אשכל אווי), the opening of the piyyutim for Musaf of this Sabbath. Wasserman’s research, in a project to collect musical settings for all Ashkenazic piyyutim for special Sabbaths, has uncovered thirty different musical settings for “Eshkol Ivvuy,” and further research may discover far more; this piyyut was clearly very important to cantors, and communities, in generations preceding ours.

According to the biography on Geni.com, Cantor Wilkowitsch, was born in Kalvarija, in the Russian Empire (see map here), today in Lithuania. He lived most of his adult life in the Austro-Hungarian empire, and served as chief cantor of a community in Eger (Erlau, Cheb), in Hungary, for 32 years. In 1939, under Nazi occupation, Wilkowitsch got a visa to escape to America, to join his wife and children who were already there. He boarded the ship, but, in light of the terrible events going on in Europe at the time, he lost the will to live and committed suicide by jumping off the ship. Very sad, and creepy.

In his youth, Wilkowitsch was a meshorer in his native Russia. Meshorerim were a standard phenomenon in pre-modern Ashkenazic synagogues: a group of men and small boys who would accompany the cantor as a kind of choir, though without the Western rules of four-part counterpoint that define modern choirs.

Perhaps the most picturesque line in the story is: “the Special Sabbaths are coming, which are soon bound to chase the polar bear out of the land” (es kommen die ausgezechneten Sabbathe, die den Eisbären bald aus dem Land verjagen).

Wilkowitsch refers to a species of fish, eaten at shalleshuddes, by the Yiddish word shtinkes. This word may be familiar to some readers of this blog from halakhic literature (see, e.g., the commentary of Rashash on Sukka 18a, and here).

The text of Wilkowitch’s piece will be presented here, first in the original German (the educated language throughout the Austro-Hungarian Empire) and then in English translation. Hopefully it will give the readers a sense of what Shabbes Shekolim was like in those bygone days – as Wilkowitsch writes, in the Italian expression that concludes his story, tempi passati.

Jugenderinnerungen.
Von Kantor Armin Wilkowitsch.

Jüngst suchte ich unter meinen alten, längst ad acta gelegten Notenblättern herum. Wie pochte da plötzlich mein Herz, und als begegnete ich meinen besten Jugendfreunden, die mir Grüße von meiner Heimat brachte und längst vergangene und verschollene Geschichtchen auffrischten, so sprachen mich diese vergilbten, nach Moder riechenden Notenblätter an. Es waren hunderte von ein- und mehrstimmigen Kompositionen, die ich mir von verschiedenen Chasanim auf meinen Meschorer-Wanderungen mit vieler Mühe erworben hatte. Darunter auch russische und jüdisch-deutsche Liedlein, selbst Sabbathsemiroth, wie Zur mischelo ochalnu, oder Joh, ribbon olam, die ich in meinem Elternhause, im Vereine mit meinen Geschwistern, allsabbathlich sang. Später, als ich Einblick in die Harmonielehre gewann, gab ich den Semiroth regelrechte Rhythmen und bearbeitete sie für zwei Soprane und Klavierbegleitung.

Unter diesen losen Blättern fand ich u. a. für Sabbath-Schekolim einen Eschkol, welcher als Introduktion eine längere, polonaiseartige Melodie vorgespannt hatte und in einer „phrygischen“^* Tonart sich bewegte. Herr Oberkantor Singer-Wien nennt, wenn ich nicht irre, diese Skala  „jüdische Tonleiter.“ Den russischen Chasanim ist aber meines Wissens keine jüdische Tonleiter bekannt und, wie gerne ich auch uns Juden eine Eigenart in der Musik einräumen möchte, muß ich trotzdem gestehen, daß ich dieser Skala schon bei mehreren kleinrussischen Volksliedern begegnete; auch das rumänische Volkslied dürfte wohl diese Tonart sich zu eigen gemacht haben.^** Daß Anton Rubinstein die Melodie für die Worte:  „und der Sklave sprach“, in seinem  „Asra“ einem jüdischen Chasan abgelauscht hat, möchte ich stark bezweifeln. Das eine ist jedoch gewiß, daß den Deutschen diese Intervalle fremd sind, aber deswegen sind sie noch nicht speziell „jüdisch“.

Bei diesem Eschkol verweilte ich lange, lange…. Habe ich doch denselben  „mitkomponieren“ geholfen.

Der Kantor in Rußland betet nicht jeden Sabbath vor, höchstens, daß er am Sabbath-meworachim Jehi rozôn und Jechadschehu absingt, das weitere betet ein Balbos oder der Schammes, und hat der Chasan Chanukalichtlein mit den Meschorerim und Klesmorim entzündet, dann hält er seinen Winterschlaf, bis Sabbath-Schekolim, der erste von den ausgezeichneten Sabbathen, ins Land zieht.

Hui, wie tobt draußen der Sturm! Neue Schneeflocken häufen sich auf die längst zu Eis erstarrten und der grausame Winter herrscht noch mit unbeschränkter Macht. Was gilt ihm die Armut? Was die Not? Despot ist Despot! — Aber im Herzen regt sich die Hoffnung: es kommen die ausgezeichneten Sabbathe, die den Eisbären bald aus dem Lande verjagen, und ein Frühlingsahnen überkommt die geplagte Menschheit.

Es war Sabbath vor Schekolim. Wir, Meschorerim, saßen beim Chasan und halfen ihm zum Scholasch-sudos die länglichen, schmalen Stinkes (Fischlein) vertilgen. Da sprach Schimschon, der Tenor:  „Nu, Chasanleben, was wird sein mit eppes a neuen Eschkol? Wieder und aber die alten Trallalaikes?!“ Der Chasan ließ sich Majim-acharonim zum  „Benschen“ geben und machte dann eine Handbewegung, die soviel heißen sollte, wie:  „Bleibt alle hier!” Nach dem Tischgebet sprach er:  „Paßt auf!“ und fing leise eine Melodie zu singen an. Diese Melodie sangen wir, Soprane, einigemal nach, der Chasan sang indessen mit den Altisten die zweite Stimme, während die Tenöre und Bassisten sich nach eigenem Gutdünken ihre Stimmen bildeten. Und so entstand in zirka einer Stunde ein Eschkol fix und fertig, mit dem wir dann „die Welt eingenommen haben.“ Tempi passati!

Childhood memories

By Cantor Armin Wilkowitsch

Recently, I leafed through my old sheet music I had long filed away. How did my heart suddenly pound, and these yellowed sheets with their fusty odour talked to me as if I were meeting my dearest boyhood friends, who brought greetings from my homeland and revived stories long past and lost. There were hundreds of compositions for one and for several voices, which I had acquired with great effort from several chazzanim during my meshorer wanderings. Among them also Russian and Jewish-German songs, even Sabbath zemiroth such as Tzur mishelo ochalnu or Yoh, ribbon olam, which I used to sing every Sabbath in my parental home together with my siblings. Later, having gained some insight into harmonics, I gave regular rhythms to the zemiroth and arranged them for two sopranos with piano accompaniment.

Among other things, I found an “Eshkol” for Sabbath Shekolim in these unbound leaves, which was preceded by a longer polonaise-like tune as an introduction and moved in a “Phrygian”^* mode. If I am not mistaken, Chief Cantor Singer of Vienna calls this scale “Jewish mode”. As far as I know, though, the Russian chazzanim are not aware of any Jewish modes or keys, and much as I should like to grant an original feature in music to us Jews, I have to concede that I’ve met this scale in several Little Russian [=Ukrainian] folk songs already, and it can be stated that the Roumanian folk song has embraced this mode as well.^** I strongly venture to doubt that Anton Rubinstein overheard a Jewish chazzan and copied the tune for the words “und der Sklave sprach” [“and the slave said”] in his “Der Asra”. These intervals are certainly alien to Germans, but that does not make them specifically “Jewish”.

I dwelled long on this “Eshkol”… After all, I helped compose it.

A cantor in Russia doesn’t lead the prayers every Sabbath; at most he will sing “Yehi rotzon” and “Yechadshehu” on Sabbath Mevorachim, and a balbos or the shammes will lead the other prayers. As soon as the chazzan has kindled the Chanukkah lights with the meshorerim and the klezmorim, he goes into hibernation until Sabbath Shekolim, the first of the Special Sabbaths, comes round.

Oh, how does the storm rage out there! Fresh snowflakes pile onto those long frozen to ice, and grim winter still rules with unlimited power. What does it care about hardship? About affliction? A despot is a despot! But hope is rising in the hearts: the Special Sabbaths are coming, which are soon bound to chase the polar bear out of the land, and a hunch of spring spreads in plagued humankind.

It was the Sabbath before Shekolim. We meshorerim were sitting with the chazzan, helping him to devour the oblong, narrow shtinkes (little fish) during sholash-sudos. Shimshon, the tenor, then said: “So, my dear chazzan, is there maybe going to be a new ‘Eshkol’? Again and again the old trallalaikes?” The chazzan had mayim acharonim given to him for “benshen” and then waved his hand in a sense of “Everybody stay here!” When Grace After Meals was finished, he said “Listen!” and started to sing a tune in a low voice. We, the sopranos, repeated this melody a few times, the chazzan added the second voice with the altos, while the tenors and basses formed their voices as they seemed fit. And so, an “Eshkol” came into being, all done and ready in the course of approximately one hour, with which we then “conquered the world”. Tempi passati!

The Image of the Menorah in the Early Printed Hebrew Book

By Dan Rabinowitz

The menorah is one of the most recognizable Jewish symbols. Today it has been adopted by the State of Israel as her official symbol, and throughout history there are numerous examples of its use. Coins, headstones, paintings and synagogue walls etchings, lamps, mosaics, manuscripts, and books, all provide examples of the widespread usage and mediums. Many of these examples have been addressed by scholars, but there is a lacuna regarding the depiction of the menorah in the Hebrew book.[1]

Despite that it is one of the most recognizable and ubiquitous symbols, the image of the menorah barely makes an appearance on Hebrew books. The first appearance of the menorah in a Hebrew book was Yosef Yikhya’s, Torah Or, Bologna, 1538. There is appears on the verso of the titlepage. The menorah is created via micrography and extols the value of the work. The designer even correctly places the menorah on a stand (and not a solid base as shown in the Arch of Titus). [2] 

From the inception of printing, Hebrew printers, like others, created and populated their works with their unique marks. These symbols served advertising for the publisher. Perhaps the only other symbol with such wide resonance and connection to the Jews as the Menorah is the star of David. There are over 200 printers’ marks, or emblems, close to 20 examples of the Magen David, and multiple appearances of other Jewish symbols, lions, David, Solomon, eagles, but two only of a menorah. [3]

Meir ben Jacob Parenzo, (aka Parentio, Parintz, or Maggius Parentinus), operated in Venice from 1545 until his death in 1575. He apprenticed in Daniel Bomberg’s printing shop, and in 1545 he began working for the Venetian printer, Cornelio Adelkind. Although most of his career was in the service of others, he did publish a handful of books on his own. He did not own a press and likely used Bomberg’s Press. All of these books bear Parenzo’s printers mark, a menorah. Whatever ambiguity there is about his surname, his personal name, Meir, alludes to lighting, thus a natural connection to the menorah. On either side of the menorah, “This is Meir’s menorah, he is the son of Yaakov Parenzo.”

Parnezo’s mark comprises around half of the title page. This grotesque design was called out for being unique among his contemporaries, but that it was “a pathetic bid for immortality.” As a measure of divine justice, according one scholar of Hebrew Italian printing, that “Meir Parenzo, notwithstanding his hope for immortality, is completely forgotten except for a small circle of Hebrew bibliographers, who, although conscious that the individual contributions of the men they commemorate are negligible in the great current of human affairs as it flows majestically down through the ages, nevertheless handing down (or transmitting) the knowledge of the existence of so many faithful men who have contributed their share to the enlightenment of the world.” [4] 

Another printer, also a Meir, incorporated the menorah into his mark, although on a much smaller scale. Meir ben Yaakob Ibn Ya’ir, here too, the surname, Ibn Ya’ir, references light. The menorah appears inside a border, flanked by olive trees surrounded by four verses, all mentioning either oil or light. Meir was active between 1552 and 1555. He published a few books abridged books on the laws of shehitah, as well as a work on Hebrew grammar, all exceedingly rare. [5]

The menorah next makes an appearance in Moshe Cordovero’s, (1522-1570), first book, Pardes Rimonim. This illustration is not of the biblical menorah, rather it is a kabbalistic representation of the sefirot overlaid on the menorah frame. This illustration was printed in most subsequent editions of Pardes Rimonim, although not as an exact reprint of the first edition.

The first illustration of the menorah that was an attempt to depict and elucidate complexities of the biblical menorah only occurred in 1593. There were two books that include the illustration, Biurim and Omek Halakha.

R. Yaakov ben Shmuel Bunim Koppelman, (1555-1594) studied with R. Mordechai Jaffe, author of the Levush. In addition to traditional subjects, he was also well-versed in (my astronomy and mathematics. He published Omek Halakha in Cracow, 1593, a commentary on the Talmud. This slim volume of just 95 pages, is rich in illustrations, which appear on nearly every page. For example, there is a thirteen page an in-depth discussion of astrology with two full page diagrams of the lunar paths and many of the other pages include multiple illustrations. Koppelman includes a detailed diagram of the menorah with an accompanying commentary. [6]

The Biurim on Rashi was published in 1593 in Venice and attributed to R. Nathan Shapira. Shapira had died in 1577; his work includes three illustrations, the menorah, a map of Israel, and a diagram of how the spies carried the large bunch of grapes. This is the first Hebrew book to contain a map.

The book is one of the handful of examples of literary forgeries in Hebrew books. R. Shapira’s son, Yitzhak, published his father’s comments on Rashi in 1597 in a work titled Imrei Shefer. In the introduction he explains why there are two books that are attributed to his father on the same topic published within a few years of one another.

ואתם קדושי עליון אל תתמהו על החפץ שזה שתנים ימים יצא בדפוס איזה ביאורים הנקראים על שם הגאון אדוני אבי ז”ל, כי המציאוהו אנשים, אנשי בלי עול מלכות שמים, חיבור אשר מצאו, ומי יודע המחבר אם נער כתבו ורצו לתלותו באילן גדול אדני אבי ז”ל, חלילה לפה קדוש להוציא מפיו דברים אשר אין בהם ממש, כי הכל תוהו ובוהו ומזויף מתוכו, כלו עלו קמשונים כסו פניו חרולים. וכאשר הגיעו הספרים ההם בגלילות אלו הכרוז בהסכמת כל רבני ורשאי המדינות שלא ומכרו ויהיו בבל יראה ובבבל ימצא בכל ארצות אלו. ואשר קנו מהם יחזר להם המעות ולא ימצא בביתך עולה

[“Do not wonder why I am publishing what was published just two years ago, the Biurim, in my father’s name. As wicked people, people who found a book, a book which may have been written by a child. However, they wanted to use my father’s good name to publish their work. But, my father would never say such stupidities which appear in that book, their book is worthless and a forgery. When this was discovered all the Rabbis agreed that this book [Biurim] should be under a ban, no one should be allowed to keep it. Whomever purchased it should have their money returned, they should not allow a stumbling block into their home.”]

According to R. Shapiro’s son, the Biurim, is illicitly associated with his father. His son was not the only one to question the authenticity of the Biurim. R. Yissachar Bear Ellenburg in his Be’er Sheva and in his Tzedah L’Derekh states unequivocally that R. Shapiro did not write the Biurim.

The diagram of the menorah does not appear in Imrei Shefer. [7]

The diagram of the menorah appears in Yosef Da’at printed in Prague in 1609 by Rabbi Yosef ben Issachar Miklish (1580 -1654). He was a student of the Maharal of Prague and of Rabbi Ephraim Lonchitz, the author of the Klai Yakar. The purpose of the book was to correct errors in Rashi’s commentary. He used a 14^th century manuscript to make those corrections. To better facilitate studying Rashi, the book includes illustrations including the menorah. This a full page with detailed descriptions of each part of the menorah. Interestingly, the base seems to combine two different approaches, one that has three legs and the other with a solid base. Miklish reproduces a solid base on top of three legs.

In 1656/57 Yalkut Shimoni with the commentary of Berit Avraham was published in Livorno, Italy. This one includes a menorah created via micrography, but unlike the others that appear at the front of the books, this one appears at the end. It is a colophon.

A unique example of the menorah appears in the 1684 edition of the Humash. It is the sole illustration on the title page. When the menorah appears on the title page, it is almost always in conjunction with other vessels or other symbols. This is perhaps the only instance of a stand-alone menorah on a title page.

The next appearance is the first time it illustrated a titlepage, in R. Shabbati ben Joseph Meshorer Bass’s (1641-1718), most well-known work, his commentary on Rashi, Siftei Hakhamim. This edition was published in Dyhernfurth, Germany at Bass’s press. This was the second edition of the work, (the first was published in 1680 in Amsterdam), and includes one of the most unusual Hebrew titlepages.

The titlepage depicts Moshe and Aaron, with the ark and other temple vessels, and prominently, and occupying the bottom third of the page, a menorah. Bass makes multiple luminary allusions on the title page. This edition includes

“.עם תרגום אנקלוס וביאור מאור הגדול רש״י ז״ל: ועליו מפרשי דבריו ככוכבים יזהירו: ובש״בעה נרות יאירו”

The menorah makes another appearance on the next page. Like the Torah Or, Bass uses micrography, in praise of the book, to form the shape of the menorah.

Aside from the figurative arts there was also a musical component to the page. This is not surprising as Shabbati was a musician and singer, and a noted bassist singer, hence the “Meshorrer”/“Bass” surname. On the bottom of the page, in the left corner, appears “Az Yashir Moshe” the beginning of the one of the fundamental Jewish musical pieces, and musical notes appear at the bottom of the page, in what appears to be a composition of sorts. This is one of the few times musical notations appears in early Hebrew religious books. Another is Immanuel Hayi Ricci’s commentary on the Mishna, Hon Ashir, printed in Amsterdam in 1731. Appended to the end of the book are three songs, two set to music with notation.

Another menorah appears in Bass’s edition. On the next page, like the Torah Or, the menorah is comprised of micrography extoling this edition with the commentary. [8]

In 1694, R. Avraham Tzahalon published a portion of his grandfather’s, R. Yom Tov Tzahalon’s (c. 1559-1638), responsa. R. Yom Tov was a child prodigy, only eighteen when he published his first work. That same year he was included in granting an approbation alongside R. Moshe Tarani (Mahrit) and R. Moshe Alschech. R. Yom Tov was no shrinking violet. And he had a dim view of R. Yosef Karo’s Shulhan Arukh. He belittled it, calling it only fit for children. The title page and the verso of the 1694 edition include depictions of the temple vessels and specifically the menorah. But his responsa do not discuss the temple vessels and this was included, “to beautify and embellish the title page of the book in a manner fit for print; the students illustrated holy concepts, the form of the Tabernacle and the Third Temple.” A rare of example of acknowledging the aesthetic beauty in the Hebrew book.

Three years later, the Italian scholar, Moshe Hafetz, (1663-1711), (aka Moses Gentili) published Hannukat ha-Bayit which discusses the Temple in great detail and includes numerous illustrations. Because of the illustrations, the book was printed in two parts. First all the text was printed with space left for the illustrations and illustrations were then added using etched copperplates.

His other work, Melekhet Mahshevet, includes his portrait, the first rabbinic portrait included in a Hebrew book, which is somewhat controversial because he is bareheaded. In a 19^th century edition, a yarmulke was drawn on his head.[9]

The Bass titlepage served as the model for another lavishly illustrated titlepage. Although it served as a model, it was only a model and not a perfect facsimile. This was intentional. In this instance, the Menorah was the most important visual element of the titlepage and therefore is significantly larger than before and is in the center not the bottom of the page. Of course, this is because the book’s title includes menorah, Menorat haMeor. The book’s structure is based upon the biblical menorah and divided into seven parts, like the seven branches of the menorah. The title page was likely executed by the well-known engraver, Avraham ben Jacob, whose lavishly illustrated 1695 edition of the Haggadah, remains among the most remarkable illustrated haggadot and served as a model for dozens of other illustrated haggadot. Like in the Biruim, Jacob also produced a map, this one much more refined than the basic one in the Biruim. It is a large fold-out map of the Jews travels from Egypt to Israel. Most of his illustrations are copied from the Mathis Maren, a Christian, whose biblical illustrations were very popular. [10]

The illustration was reused by another Amsterdam printer, Solomon Proops, in 1723. Thus, this is one of the few instances of Hebrew titlepage images reflecting the title or the work itself rather than serving a mere ornamental purpose. The titlepage imagery was reused for a 1755 edition of the Torah. This time the menorah is significantly reduced in size.

While these menorahs depicted in Hebrew books, might differ in small details, they are consistent in depicting curved, and not straight, arm. Nearly every manuscript and all the archeological finds similarly depict the curved branches. Of late, this is subject to controversy. The Lubavitcher Rebbe heavily promoted his position that the arms of the biblical menorah were straight and not rounded. In the main, he based this on a manuscript in the Rambam’s hand that includes a depiction of the menorah with straight arms and the confirming testimony of his son that, according to Rambam, the arms were straight. This produced one of the more unusual exchanges in a haredi journal, in his instance, Or Yisrael, published in Monsey, New York. Those historic and documentary materials are used by R. Yisrael Yehuda Yakob, from Kollel Belz, as evidence against the Rebbe’s position. The article uses the mosaics in the 7^th century Shalom al Yisrael Synagogue. The menorah is at the center of a large mosaic. The inscription near the mosaic indicates that the entire congregation, men, women, old and young, all took part in the creation of the mosaic. The Burnt House in Jerusalem’s Old City, that dates to the Second Temple period. Yakob then moves on to numismatic, citing a coin from the Hasmanoim period. Section three is then devoted to a discussion of the menorah on the Arch of Titus. Yakob references unidentified “hokrim” who posit that the base of the menorah was broken en route to Rome and was replaced with a base of a Roman creation. This explains why the base does not conform with the Rabbinic description and contains bas reliefs of various mythical and real animals. It was not the true one. Although unidentified, this position is that of the former Chief Rabbi of Israel, Rabbi Herzog as well as the nineteenth-century British Protestant academic, William Knight. Only in section four does Yakob turn to the more traditional Medieval Jewish commentaries. Ultimately, Yakob concludes that the rounded arms is the correct depictions and “justifies” the custom to draw it that way. Following the text, is a reproduction of the menorah from the second century synagogue, Dura Europas. A most unusual conclusion for a rabbinic article. (The image of the Dura Europos menorah actually depicts a straight arm menorah, that follows the Rebbe’s opinion. This is one of the only archeological examples of a straight arm menorah. The value of this image, however, is questionable. The menorah appears four times at Dura Europos. The straight arm one appears at the upper left corner of the opening for entrance. But, in the panel that specifically depicts the Mishkan and its vessels, there is a rounded arm menorah. While we don’t know what to attribute the differences to, it is more likely that greater care was placed in the accurate reproduction of the menorah within the context of the mishkan rather than were it serves as mere decoration.)

As would be expected, there was a rebuttal article that is more in line with the Haredi approach. The author concedes that his main objection is to Yakob’s approach, the “fundamental point which is almost litmus test of one’s religiosity: any evidence adduced from pictures and archeological evidence, God forbid, to rely upon these things or the conclusions of archeologists.” Although never directly discussed, presumably the author would dismiss the examples in the Hebrew book.[11]

* I would like to thank the bibliophile par excellence, Marvin Heller, for his assistance and close read of the article, and William Gross, whose library of objects and books is among the richest private collections, and provided most of the images, with credit to the Gross Family Collection. Many are available at the Center for Jewish Art website (https://cja.huji.ac.il/browser.php).

[1] See for example, Rachel Hachlili, The Menorah, The Seven-Armed Candelabrum (Leiden: Brill, 2001) who exhaustively catalogs the examples of menorah depictions but does not discuss the Hebrew book.
[2] For the history of the menorah, see Steven Fine’s comprehensive study, The Menorah, From the Bible to Modern Israel (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2016). Also see L. Yarden, The Tree of Light, A Study of the Menorah (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1971.
[3] Avraham Yaari, Degali Madfisim ha-Ivriyim (Jerusalem: Hebrew University Press, 1944), see index s.v. magen David and menorah; Yitzhak Yudlov, Degali Madfisim (Jerusalem: Old City Press, 2002); For examples of lions, eagles, and fish, see Marvin Heller, Essays on the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Leiden: Brill, 2021), 5-84
[4] See Steinschnider, Catalogus Libr Hebr., col. 2984, no. 8761 (discussing his surname); Yaari, Degali, 128-29; Encyclopeadia Judaica, vol. 13 col. 101-02 (1996); David Amram, The Makers of Hebrew Books in Italy (London: Holland Press, 1963), 367-71.

Parenzo may have a second printers mark that only appears once, in the 1574 Bragadini edition of the Rambam. On the verso of the title page is, according to EJ, “a rather daring design” illustrating Venus hurling arrows at a seven-headed dragon. Unmentioned is Venus’ clothes, or lack thereof.

This mark is similar to the Cremona-Sabbioneta, printer, Vincenzo Conti’s mark, with the seven-headed hydra. His, however, has Hercules rather than Venus.

A nude Venus was also used by Allesandro Gardano for his printers mark. He only published one book, a pocket edition of the Shulhan Orakh in 1578. A naked Venus rising appears at the bottom.

Hans Jacob, who published in Hanau in the 1620s, also has a naked Venus rising from a seashell at the bottom of at least four works, R. Moshe Isserless, Torat Hatas, Sefer Mahril, and a Siddur.

For a detailed discussion of Parenzo’s printing activities, see A.M. Haberman, “Ha-madfeshim beni R’ Yaakov Parenzoni be-Veniztia,” in Areshet 1 (1959), 61-88.
[5] See Yudolov, Degali Madfisim (Jerusalem: Old City Press, 2002), 23-24.
[6] See Marvin Heller, “Jacob ben Samuel Bunim Koppelman: A Sixteenth Century Multi-Faceted Jewish Scholar,” Gutenberg-Jahrbuch (Mainz, 2018), pp. 195-207.
[7] Introduction Imrei Sefer, Lublin 1697 (on differences in the printings of the Imrei Shefer see Yudolov, Areshet, 6 (1981) 102 no. 7); Biurim, Venice 1693; R. E. Katzman, “Rabbi Nathan Nata Shapiro – Ha-Megaleh Amukot” in Yeshurun 13 (Elul 2002) 677-700; Introduction [R. E. Katzman], Seder Birkat HaMazon im Pirush shel R. Noson Shapiro, 2000 Renaissance Hebraica, 1-10.
[8] His original surname may have been Strimers. See Shimeon Brisman, A History and Guide to Judaic Bibliography (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 1977), 267n.33. For additional biographical information see id. collecting sources.
[9] Dan Rabinowitz, “Yarlmuke: A Historic Cover-up?,” (here) Hakirah (4).
[10] Regarding the map, see Harold Brodsky, “The Seventeenth-Century Haggadah Map of Avraham Bar Yaacov,” in Jewish Art 19-20 (1993-1994): 149-157; David Stern, “Mapping the Redemption: Messianic Cartography in the 1695 Amsterdam Haggadah,” in Studia Rosenthaliana 42/43 (2010-2011), 43-63; Amir Cahanovitc, “Mappot be-haggadot pesah” (Masters thesis, Achva Academic College, 2015), 34-85. For a discussion of this edition and reproductions of some of its images and a comparison with Mathew Merian’s illustrations see Cecil Roth, “Ha-Haggadah ha-Metsuyyeret she-bi-Defus,” Areshet 3 (1961), 22-25; Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi, Haggadah and History (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 2005), plates 59-62, 67, 69.
[11] See R. Yisrael Yehuda Yakob, “Tzurot Kani Menorah,” in Or Yisrael 18 () 131-139; R. Nahum Greenwald, “Kani Menorah Ketzad Havei,” in Or Yisrael 18 () 140-154.

Daf Yomi: Seforim on Chagigah

By Eliezer Brodt

Daf Yomi just began learning Masseches Chagigah. Earlier this week I had a conversation with Rabbi Moshe Schwed of All Daf.

The purpose of the conversation was to briefly highlight some of the rishonim and acharonim “out there” on this messechtah, adding some tidbits of interest about them. We recorded it and it’s available for viewing here and here.

It is only 32 minutes long. Many aspects could have been discussed at much greater length but R. Schwed had mercy on potential listeners!

If you are interested in a PDF of the article I quoted from my friend R’ Stahl about the origins of a famous story related to Chagigah send me an Email at eliezerbrodt@gmail

IYH there will be a Part two to Masseches Chagigah which will exclusively about R’ Eliyahu Gutmacher.

This is an experiment which we are trying on the Seforim Blog and we hope to have other presentations from others over time. Feedback or comments of any sort are appreciated.

This is the ninth such conversation I have had with him of this kind this year (earlier we discussed Yerushalmi Shekalim [here], Yoma [here], Rosh Hashanah [here] Taanis [here] Megillah [here] and Moed Koton part one [here], part two here and part three here).

Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn – A Multi-faceted Erudite Scholar

By Marvin J. Heller[1]

Jewish history and literature is replete with individuals of stature, men of repute, leaders in their generation, whose memory has not fared well over time. Their reputations and accomplishments notwithstanding, they are not well remembered today, excepting in rabbinic or academic circles. This is, of course, not only a Jewish phenomenon, but our concern is with one individual in particular, prominent in his time in the Jewish community, justifiably so, but, outside of the aforementioned circles is, for the most, forgotten today. Among those who were prominent in their time but are not well known by the general public is R. Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn.

Heilbronn (or Halpron), a late sixteenth and early seventeenth century rabbi, was a highly regarded Talmudic scholar, evident from the esteem in which he was held by his correspondents and in the approbations to his work, as well as being a mathematician. Heilbronn was the author, compiler, and translator of several varied books on different subjects, indicative of his erudition. In this article we will briefly recount Heilbronn’s life and career and then, in somewhat greater detail, describe his literary works. Mordecai Samuel Ghirondi and Hananel Neppi, suggest that Heilbronn was a student of R. Samuel Judah Katzenellenbogen (1521-97) the son of R. Meir Katzenellenbogen (Maharam of Padua, 1473–1565).[2] Born in Italy to an Ashkenaz family, Heilbronn studied in Prague, afterwards traveling through cities in Germany and Italy, earning his livelihood from teaching. Heilbronn was also a tutor, among his students were the children of R. Nehemiah Luzzatto in Venice, for whom Heilbronn included a eulogy in his Nahalat Ya’akov (below).[3]

Jacob Heilbronn’s brother was R. Joseph ben Elhanan Heilbronn, who eventually settled in and became a resident of Posen. Also a person of repute, today Joseph Heilbronn is considered a German Jewish scholar. However, not only is he also poorly recalled, when Joseph Heilbronn is remembered, it is often as Jacob Heilbronn’s brother. Joseph Heilbronn was the author of Em ha-Yeled (Prague, 1597) a popular elementary Hebrew grammar, among the earliest of children’s grammar books, reprinted several times. The title-page of Em ha-Yeled informs that it is concerned with the grammar of words, for a child of seven, to familiarize him with word structure, the letters comprising word structure, tenses, future and past, singular and plural, male and female. The purpose is so that he will be able to speak the holy tongue (Hebrew) clearly and to write grammatically. Joseph Heilbronn’s other works are Me’irat Einayim (Cracow or Prague, c. 1600), an index of the taryag mitzvot according to Maimonides; and Kol ha-Kore (Cracow c. 1602), brief rules of grammar for schools based on the work of R. Elijah Levita (Bahur, 1469-1549).[4]

Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn, after teaching Torah in several communities, eventually settled in Padua where he was engaged as rabbi. Padua, a city of some distinction, counted among its residence such distinguished sages as R. Samuel Archivolti (Arugat ha-Bosem, c. 1515–1611), R. Simhah Luzzatto (1583–1663), and was home to a medical school which admitted Jewish students and therefore attracted Jews throughout Europe.[5]

I

Turning to Heilbronn’s literary activity. His works are in Yiddish (Judeo-German), Hebrew, and even in Italian, reflecting the composition and needs of contemporary Jewry. The Yiddish texts, three are noted here, were all printed at the press of Giovani di Gara. That press, active from 1564 to 1611, printed more than 270 books, primarily in Hebrew letters, and only infrequently in non-Jewish languages. Of that number, almost a third are seventeenth century imprints. Di Gara published a wide variety of books, encompassing liturgical works, Bibles, responsa, haggadot, and important first titles by authors. Given the positive reputation of the di Gara press it is not surprising that Heilbronn chose to print several of his titles with the di Gara press.

Heilbronn’s Yiddish titles are set in Vaybertaytsh, a semi-cursive type generally but not exclusively reserved for Yiddish books, so named because these works were most often read by the less educated and women.[6] These books were clearly meant for an Ashkenazi audience, for books in Vaybertaytsh were certainly not directed or intelligible to a market outside that community, but also evidence that that market was sufficiently large enough to justify the publication of works for a particular element of rather than for the entire Jewish community.

Orech Yamim – We begin our review of Heilbronn’s literary activity with his translations into Yiddish of several short but substantial works. The first of these titles is Orech Yamim, an ethical work by R. Samuel ben Jacob Benveniste, one of the sages of medieval Spain. The words Orech Yamim appear in several biblical verses, but based on Benveniste’s references, the appropriate verse appears to be “With long life (orech yamim) I will satisfy him, and show him My salvation” (Psalms 91:16).

Orech Yamim is an ethical manual for parents and children emphasizing the education of children, as well as addressing the subjects of haughtiness and humility.[7] There is a dedication by Heilbronn to Rosa, wife of the official קצין R. Nehemiah Luzzatto of Venice.[8]

First printed in Constantinople (c. 1580), Orech Yamim has proven to be a relatively popular work; it has been reprinted several times in various locations and translated into different languages, most often Yiddish, beginning with this Venice edition in 1599. Approximately a year after this edition appeared a Hebrew edition was published, also in Venice.[9] The 1599 Yiddish edition was printed as an octavo (8⁰: 16 ff.) at the Venetian press of Giovanni di Gara. This is in contrast to the c. 1600 Hebrew edition, also printed in Venice, but at the press of Daniel Zanetti as a sixteenmo (16⁰: 7ff.).[10] There was, three centuries later, even an Arabic edition (Baghdad, 1929).

1599, Orech Yamim

1602, Dinnim ve-Seder

Courtesy of the National Library of Israel[11]

Keter Malkhut – In 1600, the di Gara press published Keter Malkhut, Heilbronn’s Yiddish translation of R. Solomon ben Judah Ibn Gabirol’s (Arabic Abu Ayyub Sulayman ibn Yahya ibn Gabirul; Latin Avicebron, c. 1021-1057) Keter Malkhut. issued in octavo format (8⁰: 24 ff.) Keter Malkhut has been described as,

rhymed prose dealing in high style with the essence of God, the work of the creation, with a description of the “spheres,” and a confession of the low condition of man, prone to sin. . . ;.

Keter Malkhut opens with praise for the Creator and an account of His attributes: His unity, existence, eternity, and life and His greatness, power, and divinity. God is also described as “Light,” according to the neoplatonic image of the deity, “Thou art the supreme light and the eyes of the pure soul shall see thee” (tr. Lewis, 31). Nevertheless, Gabirol stresses that God and his attributes are not distinguishable: we refer to attributes only because of the limited means of human expression.[12]

There is a dedication to Kilah, the wife of the official קצין R. Mendel Ottolenghi, presumably a member of the renowned Italian family of that name.[13]

Dinnim ve-Seder (Seder Meliḥah) – In 1602, Heilbronn published Dinnim ve-Seder (Seder Meliḥah), an important work on the principles of salting meat. This edition, in Yiddish, is based on R. Moses Isserles’ (Rema, c.1525/30–1572) Torat Hattat, which in turn follows the Sha’arei Dura of R. Isaac ben Meir Dueren (late 13th century) with additions according to the customs of Polish and German Jewry. The Rema, among the foremost halakhic authorities and the leading decisor for Ashkenazim, is best known for his Haggahot or ha-Mappah, glosses on the Shulhan Arukh. Dueren, a German halakhic authority, resident in Dueren in Germany, was an authority on the laws of issur ve-hetter (dietary laws)..

The Rema’s purpose in writing Torat Hattat was that due to the popularity of Sha’arei Dura, a work of considerable brevity, people wish to learn it while [standing] on one foot. Torat ha-Hattat is not, however, merely a clarification of Sha’arei Dura, although arranged according to and following the former work, but its purpose, as Rema writes, is not only to add contemporary customs, to which Rema placed great weight, but to teach practical halakhah. Furthermore, many of the laws, particularly in the area of issur ve-hetter, as explained by R. Joseph Caro (1488 –1575) in his Shulhan Arukh, which had become widespread, are not applicable in these lands, that is Poland and other Ashkenazi communities.

Torat Hattat was first printed in Cracow in 1569, and reprinted in 1577 and 1590. This, the first Yiddish edition, was published by the di Gara press in octavo format (8⁰: 8 ff.). It has a dedication to Moskita, daughter of R. Hezkiah Perinto. There is also a memorial address on the death of R. Avigdor Cividal (Zuidal, d. 18 Heshvan, [5]362 = November 18, 1601), rabbi in Venice.[14]

These three titles, translations of distinguished works into Yiddish by Heilbronn, are varied. Orech Yamim and Dinnim ve-Seder, while quite different in subject matter, the former an ethical manual emphasizing the education of children, as well as addressing the subjects of haughtiness and humility, the latter dealing with the principles of salting meat, are eminently practical works, addressing that part of the community that was less learned but had a serious need for the books’contents. In contrast, Keter Malkhut, while unquestionably a work of great value does not appear to fit the practical pattern of the two other works. Heilbronn’s motivation is publishing Keter Malkhut is unclear.

Even less clear is Heilbronn’s purpose in dedicating each of these works to apparently unrelated women, even if married and women of great virtue. That would appear, unless with good reason or of close relatives, to be inconsistent with Jewish values. One needs assume that Heilbronn, a respected rabbi, translator of an ethical work, had good reason for doing so, even if for reasons that are unclear, but were appropriate.

II

Kizzur Abrabanel – We turn now to Heilbronn’s Hebrew works.[15] The first of Heilbronn’s three Hebrew titles is Kizzur Abrabanel, an abridgement of Don Isaac ben Judah Abrabanel’s (1437–1508) commentaries on Pirkei Avot and the Pesah Haggadah. A noted statesman, biblical exegete, and philosopher, Abrabanel’s works encompass commentaries on the Torah, most books of the Bible, and philosophical works. Abrabanel served as an advisor and financier to kings in Portugal and Spain, electing to go into exile at the time of the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492. Among his books are these commentaries on Pirkei Avot, entitled Nahalat Avot, and on the Pesah Hagadah, entitled Zevah Pesah.

Kizzur Abrabanel is an abridgement of Nahalat Avot and Zevah Pesah; it was published in 1604-05 in Lublin at the press of Zevi ben Abraham Kalonymous Jaffe as a quarto (4⁰: 79, [1] ff.). Both titles, apart from the abridgement, were printed in Constantinople in 1505 and reprinted several times in the sixteenth century; Nahalat Avot was reprinted in Venice (1545, 1567) and Zevah Pesah was reprinted in Venice (1545), Cremona (1557), Riva di Trento (1561) and Bistrowitz (1592). Both works have proven popular, were republished several times, particularly Zevah Pesah.

Abrabanel’s style in those works, as in his other commentaries, is lengthy, deep and thorough, but eminently readable. Nevertheless, it is the length of his commentaries that made an abridgement attractive.

The title page describes Kizzur Abrabanel as having been written by Heilbronn, known by all as Hertzkes, who diligently sat in the tent of Torah where sat the sages full of mitzvot like a pomegranate and saw that lengthiness hindered others from doing so. Heilbronn, therefore, for the public good, abridged these works so that they could be quickly read. The title page is dated Wednesday, 25 Sivan 364 (June 2, 1604). The colophon dates completion of work to Friday, Rosh Hodesh Adar “and Jacob had scarcely gone out from the presence of Isaac ויהי אך יצא יצא יעקב מאת פני יצחק (365 = 30 Shevat = February 18, 1605) his father” (Genesis 27:30). On the verso of the title page is an approbation signed by eight geonim in Jaroslav. Next is Heilbronn’s introduction

the commentary of the great Rav, wonder of the generation [Don Yitzhak] Abrabanel on Avot and the Pesah Haggadah, a truly wonderful commentary, accepted by everyone, joining all the Mishnayot and ma’amarim together into one tent which was not done by other commentators, before and after. It was the desire of all to continually delve into and delight in it daily and “find rest for their souls” (cf. Jeremiah 6:16). . . .

1604, Kizzur Abrabanel

Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

Heilbronn continues that due to the lengthiness of Abrabanel’s commentary, perhaps excessively, people are unable to read and complete it, and therefore but “one from a city, and two from a family” (Jeremiah 3:14) even begin it and it lays in the corner of the house “all grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered it over” (Proverbs 24:31). He has therefore prepared this abridgement and taken the queries with which the Abrabanel customarily begins each section and placed them at the end of the work.

The text of Kizzur Abrabanel follows, in two columns, the text of each work in a square unvocalized font, followed by Abrabanel’s commentary in rabbinic letters. Kizzur Abrabanel is comprised of the commentary to Pirkei Avot, from 46b the commentary on the Pesah Haggadah, and at the end the queries with which the Abarbanel began topics in Avot (69a-75b) and the Haggadah (76a-79b).[16]

Despite being an attractive and functional volume, Kizzur Abrabanel has not, unfortunately, been reprinted, this being the only edition of Kizzur Abrabanel.

Nahalat Ya’akov – Our second Hebrew title is Nahalat Ya’akov, responsa and halakhic novellae. Nahalat Ya’akov was published in Padua in 1622 at the press of Gaspare Crivellari in quarto format (4⁰: 51 ff.).

The title page of Nahalat Ya’akov has a six-part frame comprised of floral patterns. The text states that Nahalat Ya’akov is responsa on halakhic matters (dinim) concerning monetary issues, dietary laws (issur ve-heter), and commentary on various subjects in Tosafot and Rashi. These were collected and assembled from “elderly rabbis רבנן קשישי (Berakhot 30a, 46b) who were in his days,” and to whom he submitted queries and received responses, טו”ב (17) in number and enumerated by name on the following page. The title page has the Hebrew date שפ”ג ([5]383) and the Arabic numeral date 1622, indicating that it was printed in the final months of 1622, when the new Jewish year has begun and the secular year had not yet concluded.

1622, Nahalat Ya’akov

Courtesy of the Fales Library and Special Collections, New York University

The verso of the title page is blank. Folio 2a has the names of the rabbis, all distinguished, with whom Heilbronn corresponded, and whose responses make up a substantial portion of Nahalat Ya’akov. Among them are R. Abraham Menahem Kohen Rapa Porto (Rapaport, Minhah Belulah), Judah Katzenellenbogen, Avigdor Cividal, Mordecai Jaffe (Levush), and Isaiah Horowitz (Shelah ha-Kodesh), the last, along with R. Kalonymus ben Samuel ha-Kohen, providing approbations. There is an introduction in a single column in rabbinic type from Heilbronn, who writes that “‘Nahalat Ya’akov (the heritage of Jacob, Isaiah 58:14) your father,’ this is my portion from all my labors and exertions.” There is a dedication to his benefactor R. Simḥah Luzzatto.

Heilbronn entitles it Nahalat Ya’akov for two reasons: it is all that he has accomplished to be an inheritance to the children of Jacob; and secondly, all will see that in it are “words of delight; [and words of truth] written in proper form.” (Ecclesiastes 12:10). The text is set in two columns in square type. The volume concludes with an index. This is the only edition of Nahalat Ya’akov.

Shoshannat Ya’akov – Our final Hebrew title, Shoshannat Ya’akov, Heilbronn’s introduction to arithmetic with mathematic puzzles. It was published together with R. Eliezer ha-Gadol’s (R. Eliezer ben Isaac of Worms, 11th cent.) Orhot Hayyim. The combined work, with the title-page heading Orhot Hayyim, was published in Venice at the press of Giovanni Caleoni in 1623 as a sixteenmo (16⁰: 12 ff.). Orhot Hayyim is a popular ethical will often erroneously credited to R. Eliezer ben Hyrcanus (1st-2nd cent.), but also appearing with R. Asher ben Jehiel (Rosh, c. 1250-1327as the author.

Shoshannat Ya’akov, our title of interest, is, as, noted above, an introduction to arithmetic with mathematic puzzles. The title-page emphasizes Orhot Hayyim, stating,

is the testament of R. Eliezer ha-Gadol, which he commanded his son Hyrcanus at the time of his passing. It was brought to press by R. Jacob Heilbronn for the public good. He has added at the end an addition of his own from his “wisdom and knowledge” (Ecclesiastes 1:16, 2:26) in arithmetic to be able to understand his fellow’s calculations and to write with allusions in the manner of esotery and appetizers of wisdom. This addition is entitled Shoshannat Ya’akov to instruct to teach the youth of the children of Israel knowledge and stratagem in concealed secrets. . . .

Shoshannat Ya’akov, includes, in addition to its arithmetic content, riddles and epigrams. Both works are set in a single column in rabbinic type, with Shoshannat Ya’akov beginning on 8a. It does not have a separate title page but rather a one-line header giving the title. At the end of the volume is verse by R. David ben Shemariah Morpurgo. An example of the contents in Shoshannat Ya’akov is the last entry (11a),

To speak in allusions so that those standing by the speaker will not understand except for his companion who knows the matter as do you but none other.

First, I will instruct you in the alef bet and afterwards how to arrange words with the five fingers of the right hand beginning with the thumb. . . .

1623, Orhot Hayyim / Shoshannat Ya’akov,

Courtesy of the Library of Agudas Chassidei Chabad Ohel Yosef Yitzhak

Moritz Steinschneider, likely referring to this work, writes informs that “arithmetical puzzles were framed in Germany by JACOB BEN ELIAKIM (613 [sic]) for primary instruction and an exercise of subtlety.”[17]

Orhot Hayyim has been frequently reprinted. This is, however, the only edition of Shoshannat Ya’akov.

III

Mitzvot Nashim – We conclude with Heilbronn’s most popular (successful) work, based on the number of times it was reprinted, that is, Mitzvot Nashim, or, in Italian,

Precetti da esser
imparati
dalle donne hebree

The above meaning precepts to be learned by Hebrew women, and continuing that it was composed by Rabbi Bini amin D’harodono (R. Benjamin Aaron ben Abraham Slonik, Solnik, c. 1550 – c. 1619) and that it was translated by Rabbi Giacob Halpron (Jacob Heilbron) into Hebrew for women with a fear of God. Precetti da Esser Imparati is a translation into Italian of R. Benjamin Slonik of Grodno’s (c. 1550 – c. 1619) Yiddish Seder Mitzvot Nashim (a lovely booklet for women). Precetti da Esser Imparati was published in Venice in 1616 at the press of Giacomo Sarzina as a 20 cm. book ( [10], 3-101, [11] pp.).

The title-page is followed by a dedication to Alla Molta Magnifica et Nobilissima Signora Osservandissima, La Signora Bona Consorte Delmolto Magnifico, & Nobelissimo Signor Lazero d’Italia Hebreo in Mantova (below, left). Again, a dedication to a woman, with the comment noted earlier.[18] It should be noted, however, that there is no impropriety suggested, as the dedications are not only done publicly but in books with approbations from highly regarded rabbis.

1616, Mitzvot Nashim – Precetti da esser imparati dalle donne hebree

Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

Mitzvot Nashim is on the three mitzvot specific to women, the laws of niddah, hallah, and lighting of Sabbath candles, which, if not observed, “are the three transgressions for which woman die in childbirth” (Shabbat 31b). The text, in Italian with occasional Hebrew, is comprised or one hundred thirty-seven chapters followed by a listing (below, right) of the mitzvot; 76 for niddah, 77-87 for hallah, and 88-101 for lighting Sabbath candles.

In his detailed work on Seder Mitzvot ha-Nashim, Edward Fram suggests Slonik’s efforts were educational rather than legislative in insuring proper observance of commandments. He had to consider that the book was for both readers and listeners, for both the pious and rebellious. Israel Zinberg, in his brief description of this title, describes it as being “in a tender, gentle tone ‘the little book for women’ teaches the Jewish wife and mother how she ought to conduct herself in her family life and religious-social life.” Most chapters are brief but several are quite lengthy and, in addition to the halakhic detail, include ethical, motivational and homiletic supporting material which certainly enhanced the books popularity.[19]

Slonik’s Mitzvot Nashim been a popular and much reprinted work. Four editions, beginning with a Cracow 1577 edition, are known for the sixteenth century, three printed in Slonik’s lifetime, and six are recorded for the seventeenth century, beginning with a Yiddish edition, Ein Schon Frauen Buchlein (Basle, 1602). Heilbronn’s Italian translation (Venice, 1616) has also proven to be popular and has been republished.[20]

IV

We began by noting that Jewish history and literature is replete with individuals of stature, whose accomplishments notwithstanding, are not well remembered today. Among those who were prominent in their time but are not well known by the general public today is R. Jacob ben Elhanan Heilbronn. A review of his life and accomplishments, particularly the books he authored and printed, suggests that he indeed was a person of accomplishment, deserving more than a passing glance. A peripatetic individual, Heilbronn appears in several locations in Europe before finally accepting a position as rabbi and settling in Padua.

It is his books that are of greatest interest and set him aside from many of his contemporaries. While his works, in most cases, are not original, they are of merit, being tri-lingual, in Yiddish, Hebrew, and Italian. They are generally adaptations of the successful and important works of others. In translating and abridging those works, Heilbronn has made them available to a much larger public, one that likely might not otherwise have had access to them. His books encompass ethical and halakhic subjects, even a mathematic work, in Yiddish, abridgements in Hebrew, and finally in Italian, making it clear that Heilbronn, in his selection of these works was erudite, and in his preparing them for a larger readership shows his concern for that public.

Admittedly, these books, abridgments and translations into Vaybertaytsh, are not such as to capture the imagination of intellectuals and academics, yet they demonstrate a concern and interest in the needs of the wider community that was, is often overlooked. Heilbronn did not do so. Indeed, Heilbronn, a rabbi in the fullest sense of the word, was, of a surety, a person of accomplishment and erudition, one concerned with the needs of his public.

The Missing Nun Verse in Ashrei[1]
Ben Zion Katz
Northwestern University

There are several alphabetic acrostics in the book of Psalms. These acrostics are found in Psalms 25, 34, 37, 111, 112, 119 and 145. Only three of these are complete acrostics – i.e., acrostics in which every letter of the alphabet is represented. Psalms 111 and 112 begin each half verse with the succeeding letter of the Hebrew alphabet following the psalm’s first word (Halleluyah). Psalm 119 is an eight-fold alphabetic acrostic with 176 verses. Psalm 34 is portrayed as a complete alphabetic acrostic in the ArtScroll siddur[2]; however, that is a misrepresentation as there is no verse that begins with the letter vav; the letter vav appears in the last half of verse 6, as it does in the last half of verses 1, 4, 5, 7, 11, 14, 16, 18, 19, 20 and 23, and is therefore not part of the acrostic. Psalms 25, 37 and 145 are also defective acrostics, in that they are missing at least one letter each (and may also have other irregularities). For example, Psalm 25 begins each verse with a succeeding letter of the Hebrew alphabet except for the letters bet (although the second word of verse 2 starts with a bet), vav and kuf (possessing a second resh verse instead). Psalm 37 begins every other verse with a succeeding letter of the alphabet, except that the daled and heh verses immediately follow each other, there are two vav and chet verses, there is no ayin verse, the peh verse follows immediately after what should have been the ayin verse (instead of skipping a verse), and the tav verse begins with a vav. Finally, Psalm 145 is famously missing a nun verse.

Psalm 145 is better known as Ashrei, because of the way it appears in the siddur. Ashrei is said thrice daily (twice in shacharit, the morning service, and once at minchah, the evening service) and is always preceded by two verses from Psalms (84:5 [whose first word, Ashrei, gives the prayer its popular name] and the last verse of the preceding Psalm [144:15]) and concludes with another verse from Psalms (115:18).

Probably because of its popularity and the prominent absence of a verse with the letter nun, the Talmud has the following discussion (Berachot 4b; my loose translation):

Rabbi Eliezer said in the name of Rabbi Avina: Whoever says Psalm 145 thrice daily is assured of a place in the world to come. Why? Is it because it is an alphabetic acrostic? But Psalm 119 is an eight-fold alphabetic acrostic. Perhaps it is because of the verse (verse 16) “You open Your hands and provide sustenance for all life as they require?” But Psalm 136:25 states “He gives food to all flesh” (expressing a similar sentiment)? [The reason is because Psalm 145] has both qualities (an alphabetic acrostic and the notion of God sustaining all life).

Rabbi Yochanan asked: Why does Psalm 145 lack a verse with a nun? Because that verse alludes to the downfall of (lit., the enemies of)[3] Israel, as it says: “Fallen, she will rise no more, the virgin of Israel” (Amos 5:2; the verse continues “She is cast out over her land, none can raise her up”). In the West (i.e., Israel, by placing the comma differently)[4]  they read the verse thus: “Fallen, (and) she will not (continue to) fall any more, rise O virgin of Israel”. Said Rabbi Nachman the son of Isaac: Even so, David prophetically alluded to this [missing] verse with the next verse [following]: “God supports all of the fallen”.

The preceding Talmudic discussion raises at least two related questions: Does the Talmud really mean that a verse in Amos should have been part of Psalm 145? And isn’t that verse (Amos 5:2) completely out of character with the rest of the Psalm, which praises God throughout? In the remainder of this paper I will propose a rationale for the approach of the rabbis of the Talmud in this case (which will have implications for other similar rabbinic speculations as well), and then proceed with a historical discussion of the missing nun verse.

It appears that the rabbis, in realizing that the nun verse is missing from Psalm 145, took a cue from the verse immediately following, as Rabbi Nachman alluded to in the Talmudic discussion above. The verse following where the nun verse should be begins: Somech Adonai lekhol ha-noflim – God supports all of the fallen. The rabbis couldn’t help but notice that the word fallen, noflim, begins with a nun, and if the verse following the missing nun verse states that God helps the fallen, the preceding may very well have started with the verb nafal. The rabbis likely then searched the Bible for such a verse, and found that there are only two verses in the entire Hebrew Bible that begin with the verb nafal – Amos 5:2 (above) and Lamentations 5:16 (“The crown of our heads is fallen, woe unto us for we have sinned”).[5] While neither are great choices from a literary perspective to precede the verse of God supporting the fallen, the verse from Amos, especially as it was reinterpreted in Israel, is less objectionable. It is possible that the rabbis meant that the verse from Psalms was somehow moved to Amos, but more likely the rabbis meant that David (prophetically) knew the verse was destined to be prophesied by Amos, did not wish to include it in Psalm 145 and instead merely alluded to it with the verse immediately following about God supporting the fallen.

There are two historical witnesses as to the text of the missing nun verse of Ashrei. The first is the Septuagint, the Greek translation of Scripture that was begun in the mid-third century BCE, in which there is an extra line in Psalm 145 where the nun verse should be, that reads: “Faithful is the Lord in his words, and holy in all his works”.[6] Scholars have long recognized that the Hebrew word “Ne-eman” means faithful or trustworthy, and could have been the Hebrew word beginning the verse from which the Septuagint translators worked. The reconstructed Hebrew verse then might have read: Ne-eman elohim bechol devarav, ve-kadosh bechol ma-asav.

The second witness is the Dead Sea scrolls, among which is a large Psalms scroll that contains parts of Psalm 145 with a refrain after each verse. See Fig. 1A, where Psalm 145 begins after the break in the column. Note that this text is written in modern, square Hebrew script, except for the Tetragrammaton, which is written using the ancient paleo-Hebrew script, perhaps as a sign of added reverence.

There are minor differences between the psalm as it appears here and in current (Masoretic) Bibles. For example, the first words in line 1 are Tefilah Le-David, a prayer of David, instead of our text, which reads Tehilah Le-David, a psalm of David[7] The first verse (line 1) also contains two names of God (although the first, the Tetragrammaton, missing in current texts, is dotted, perhaps signifying an uncertain reading).[8] A characteristic of the Dead Sea texts are that many words are spelled more fully (i.e., with more vowel letters such as aleph, heh, vav and yud) than is even seen in late Biblical Hebrew,[9] to the extent that the final heh in many instances appears awkward).[10] Notice the scribal corrective technique of adding missing words above the line[11] and the garbled line beginning with the letter kuf, where the scribe appears to have misread a few words.[12] Most noticeable is that each verse is followed by a refrain: Baruch adonay uvaruch shemo leolam vaed – Blessed is God and blessed is His name forever. Finally, there is a nun verse, (beginning the last word of line 9) similar to what it was postulated to be from the Septuagint: Ne-eman Elohim bedvarav ve-chasid bechol ma-asav – Faithful is the Lord in His words and gracious in all His works.

Now that we have seen the two ancient witnesses of the nun verse in Ashrei, several questions arise. First, why does this extra verse use Elohim (Lord) instead of God (the Tetragrammaton), which is the name of God used almost uniformly throughout the psalm? Second, the Greek text implied the word “holy” (kadosh), not “gracious” (chasid)? And finally, if this verse is authentic, why did it drop out?

The first two questions are less difficult than the third. Psalm 145, even in the current Masoretic version, has the word Elohy in the first verse, so it is not as if the form Elohim for God is absent entirely from Psalm 145 as it has come down to us. Also, the fact that the Dead Sea psalm has both names of God in verse 1 (even though one is dotted) provides a possible second usage for the form Elohim for God’s name in this psalm in antiquity. The second question is a matter of near synonyms. The third question is more profound. Perhaps because the last half of the nun verse in the Dead Sea text was exactly the same as the last half of the current verse that begins with the letter tazdi allowed it to be less memorable and more likely to be skipped or forgotten by a scribe. Recall how most of the verse beginning with the letter kuf is missing in Figure 1B (lines 17-18); if the next copyist who saw that manuscript did not know this psalm by heart, the few remaining, extraneous words from the kuf verse might very well have been deleted in the next manuscript version and the kuf verse could have been lost from the psalm as well.

One cannot prove that the nun verse(s) uncovered are original to the Hebrew Psalm 145. What can be said is that the ancient translators of the Greek Bible used a text very similar to that found in Qumran in making their translation. The rabbis, of course, did not have the Dead Sea scrolls available to them; while they did have the Septuagint and were aware of some differences between the Septuagint translations and their Hebrew text(s), the rabbis attributed most of the differences to tendentious translations performed purposefully by the Greek translators.[13]

Regarding the missing nun verse, the rabbis very cleverly tried to deduce, based on the evidence available to them, how the missing verse may have read. Whether the rabbis would have made use of the Dead Sea Scrolls had they been known in antiquity is uncertain. Whether that should prevent us from doing so is a question of hashkafah. For the more traditionally minded, any source not used by previous generations is questionable at best. For the more modern, any valid source (such as using knowledge of the ancient near East to understand the Bible) is not only useful but desirable.

Figure 1A. Psalm 145, verses 1-5. From Scrolls From the Dead Sea: An Exhibition of Scrolls and Archeological Artifacts from the Collections of the Israel Antiquities Authority, A Sussman and R Peled, Library of Congress Washington, 1993 in association with the Israel Antiquities Authority, the Field Museum, 2000, cover and second inner flyleaf, © the Field Museum. Used with permission.

Figure 1B. Psalm 145, verses 13-19. From Scrolls From the Dead Sea: An Exhibition of Scrolls and Archeological Artifacts from the Collections of the Israel Antiquities Authority, A Sussman and R Peled, Library of Congress Washington, 1993 in association with the Israel Antiquities Authority, the Field Museum, 2000, cover and second inner flyleaf, © the Field Museum. Used with permission.

Transcription of Fig. 1A, beginning after the paragraph break, the 1^st 7 lines that are completely legible:

תפלה לדויד ארוממכה יקוק אלוקי המלך 1.

ואכרכה שמכה לעלם ועד ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו 2.

לעולם ועד ברוך יום אברככה ואהללה שמכה לעלם ועד 3.

ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד גדול יקוק ומהולל מאדה 4.

לגדולתו אין חקר ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד 5.

דור לדור ישבחו מעשיכה וגבורתיכה יגידו ברוך יקוק 6.

וברוך שמו לעלם ועד הדר כבוד הודכה ודברי נפלאותיכה 7.

Transcription of Fig. 1B, beginning at the top of the column, the 1^st 13 lines that are completely legible:

וברוך שמו לעלם ועד מלכותכה מלכות כל עולמים וממשלתכה 8.

בכל דור ודור ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד נאמן 9.

אלוקים בדבריו וחסיד בכול מעשיו ברוך יקוק וברוך 10.

שמו לעלם ועד סומך יקוק לכל הנופלים וזוקף לכול 11.

הכפופים ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד עיני 12.

כל אליכה ישברו ואתה נותן להמה את אוכלמה בעתו 13.

פותח אתה את ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד 14.

ידכה ומשביע לכל חי רצון ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו 15.

לעלם ועד צדיק יקוק בכל דרכיו וחסיד בכול 16.

מעשיו ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד קרוב יקוק 17.

וברוך שמו לעלם ועד יקראוהו באמת ברוך יקוק 18.

וברוך שמו לעלם ועד רצון יראיו יעשה ואת שועתמה 19.

ישמע ויושעם ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד 20.

Key: italics = dotted word

Underlined = letter or word above the line

Notes: The Tetragrammaton is spelled יקוק, and every heh in other names of God is replaced with a kuf.

[1] I thank my brother, Edward N. Katz, MD, for inspiring me to write this paper.

[2] Sherman N. The Complete ArtScroll Siddur: Weekday/Sabbath/Festival. Mesorah Publications, Ltd. Brooklyn, NY. First edition. 1984. P. 376.

[3] Literally the Talmud states that the verse deals with the downfall of the enemies of Israel, but this is a euphemism; the Talmud does not wish to actually say the downfall of Israel. See for example, M Simon. Berakoth. The Babylonian Talmud. Seder Zeraim. The Soncino Press. London. 1948. P. 15. N. 7 and A Ehrman. Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmud. Tractate Berakhoth. El-Am. Israel. 1965. P. 66.

[4] Ibid.

[5] A Even-Shoshan. A New Concordance of the Bible. Kiryat Sefer Publishing House, Ltd. Jerusalem. 1990. Pp. 769-770 (Hebrew).

[6] Slightly modified from SCL Brenton. The Septuagint with Apocrypha: Greek and English. Samuel Bagster & Sons, Ltd. London. 1851. Reprinted Hendricksen Publishers. Peabody, MA. 1987. P. 785; this is not a scholarly edition of the Septuagint, but is popular and readily available. There is also not one single authoritative text of the Septuagint, so the expression “the Septuagint” is somewhat of a misnomer.

[7] Psalms 17 and 86 also begin with the words Tefilah Le-David, while Psalms 90 and 102 also begin with the word Tefilah.

[8] See Katz BZ. A Journey Through Torah: A critique of the documentary hypothesis. Urim. Jerusalem and N.Y. 2101. Pp. 54-55.

[9] David is spelled daled vav daled in Samuel but daled vav yud daled in Chronicles, for example.

[10] E.g., At the end of lines 4 and 19 and towards the end of line 13.

[11] Indicated by a word or letters that is/are underscored in (the transcriptions in) Fig. 1.

[12] The words אשר לכל קוראיו לכל should be in place of the first four words of line 18. It is not clear exactly how the scribe might have made this error. This is in contrast to the use of ברוך instead of בכל at the beginning of the bet verse in line 3 which could easily be explained as a scribal error due to the psalm’s constant refrain of ברוך יקוק וברוך שמו לעלם ועד; as the verse now stands (beginning with the word ברוך in line 3) it makes little sense. A scribal error might also be the cause of the repetitious את אתה in the peh verse at the end of line 14. There is one more small difference between this psalm and the received text: the absence of a vav at the beginning of line 5.

[13] E.g., Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Megillah 9a-b.

Daf Yomi: Seforim on Moed Katan, Part Two and Three

By Eliezer Brodt

Daf Yomi is in middle of learning Masseches Moed Katan. This week I had two conversations with Rabbi Moshe Schwed of All Daf. The purpose of these conversation were for me to trace the concerns for the fear some had to learn this Masechtah, especially the section devoted to Avelius as it deals with topics related to death.

Part two deals with tracing the sources about this from the Sefer Chasdim, Yosef Ometz and the Chasam Sofer. Some other Mesechtas were added to the list by various sources. I than traced the learning of this topic until the end of the Rishonim period, including a close examination of the significance of the Toras HaAdam of the Ramban.

Part three picks up with the Achronim period. Looking more closely at the Curriculum in Lita, and Volozhin. I continued on with some more contemporary Poskim’s views about learning this subject and conclude with a short bibliography of various seforim on Aveilus.

We recorded them and they are available for viewing: part two is here and here. Part three is here and here.

Part two is forty- seven minutes, which is much longer than most of the previous ones. I apologize for the length in advance, luckily both links have options for one to listen on fast speed! Part three is only 23 minutes long. Many aspects could have been discussed at much greater length but R. Schwed had mercy on potential listeners!

This is an experiment which we are trying on the Seforim Blog and we hope to have other presentations from others over time. Feedback or comments of any sort are appreciated.

This is the seventh and eighth such conversation I have had with him of this kind this year (earlier we discussed Yerushalmi Shekalim [here], Yoma [here], Rosh Hashanah [here] Taanis [here] Megillah [here] and Moed Koton part one [here]).

Notes on the Book of Samuel, and the Eternal Sanctity of the Temple in Maimonidean Thought

By Rabbi Avi Grossman

avrahambenyehuda.wordpress.com

Rabbi Label Dulitz, who passed away last week, was an iconic figure at YUHSB. I was privileged to first meet him when I began my studies at the school in the fall of 1996. That year, Rabbi Dulitz was teaching Talmud to part of the tenth grade, but some of us lucky freshmen got to sit in his afternoon Navi class. His photographic memory of the Bible, Talmud, and Shakespeare has already been recounted by many; what struck me more about the man who sought to mold men was his persistence, his insistence that all of his students put every ounce of their efforts into their studies. For years, I found myself more comfortable in the library than in the beis midrash, not because I was not interested in Torah study, but rather because of the atmosphere. In this, I found a model in Rabbi Dulitz, who made the third-floor gallery of our high-school library his personal study and let me spend as much time as I wanted at his table, even when I was cutting other classes. (I am also indebted to the long-time librarian, Mr. Wexler, for his support and dedication.) 

That year, Rabbi Dulitz did not teach us about the Book of Samuel; he drilled it into our minds as though using a thumbscrew (his word), and when we did not do well enough on our exams, he would wail like Achish, “do I lack crazies?”  When I was fifteen years old, I had questions about Samuel, but it took almost 25 years for me to even begin to articulate them. I regret that I had not sought the opportunity to thank Rabbi Dulitz before he was gone, but I pray that this serves as a fitting monument to him.

…

This is the story of an interesting argument over the interpretation of historical matters incidentally described in halachic works. For a few years, I made a number of assumptions regarding Maimonides’s views in this regard but recently those assumptions were challenged. 

A note on terminology: I will follow Maimonides’s precedent in this regard. That which the Israelites built in the wilderness and then established in a number of places within Israel is referred to as the mishkan, which is invariably rendered as Tabernacle, or as ohel mo’ed, Tent of Meeting, while the Temple is the translation of habayith, or some other construction, like beith adonay, and the word miqdash, Sanctuary, is the term that includes both Temple and Tabernacle alike, and which Maimonides uses to halachically define and equate all of the historical Sanctuaries:

מצות עשה לעשות בית לה’, מוכן להיות מקריבים בו הקרבנות, וחוגגין אליו שלוש פעמים בשנה–שנאמר “ועשו לי, מקדש” (שמות כה,ח); וכבר נתפרש בתורה משכן שעשה משה רבנו, והיה לפי שעה–שנאמר “כי לא באתם, עד עתה . . .” (דברים יב,ט)

 ואלו הן הדברים שהן עיקר בבניין הבית:  עושין בו קודש, וקודש הקודשים, ויהיה לפני הקודש מקום אחד והוא הנקרא אולם; ושלושתן נקראין היכל.  ועושין מחיצה אחרת סביב להיכל, רחוקה ממנו כעין קלעי החצר שהיו במדבר; וכל המוקף במחיצה זו שהוא כעין חצר אוהל מועד, הוא הנקרא עזרה. והכל נקרא מקדש

כיון שנכנסו לארץ, העמידו המשכן בגלגל ארבע עשרה שנה שכבשו ושחלקו.  ומשם באו לשילה, ובנו שם בית של אבנים; ופרסו יריעות המשכן עליו, ולא הייתה שם תקרה.  ושלוש מאות ותשע וששים שנה, עמד מקדש שילה. וכשמת עלי, חרב ובאו לנוב ובנו שם מקדש, וכשמת שמואל חרב ובאו לגבעון ובנו שם מקדש. ומגבעון באו לבית העולמים וימי נוב וגבעון, שבע וחמישים שנה

However, in many instances, the Bible uses all four and even some others as poetic synonyms. For the sake of clarity, I shall not.  

For some years now, I have  wondered about three things: Why is the destruction of the Tabernacle at Shiloh, although alluded to in the Book of Samuel and explicitly described in the Psalms and Jeremiah and the Mishna, not explicitly mentioned in Samuel? On the other hand, why does the Torah devote so much detail to the materials and construction of the Tabernacle, and why do the prophets give so much detail concerning the materials and construction of the First Temple, and then so much detail and reiteration when describing the First Temple’s destruction? Lastly, although we have no clear Talmudic or Mishnaic source for this claim, why is it that many commentators echo the claim of the Or Hahayim, that had the Temple been built by Moses, it never would have been destroyed? How did the Or Hahayim know that?

This website analyzes a number of topics which we have studied in the past, and its author, a prominent faculty member at Merkaz Harav with whom I have corresponded on this matter, offers an explanation that does not satisfy me because part of its basis is the assumption that the Tabernacle as it stood in Nov and Gibeon was not considered a full, halachic Sanctuary, whereas I feel it is clear from both the Yerushalmi and Maimonides’s commentary on the Mishna that the Tabernacles at Nov and Gibeon, despite the fact that they never housed the Ark of the Covenant, were as much complete sanctuaries as those at Shiloh and Jerusalem. While I  agree with his assertion that the main tragedy of Shiloh was the Ark of the Covenant’s falling into enemy hands, the idea that the rest of the Sanctuary’s destruction was insignificant because the Ark was already removed does not satisfy me, because by that logic, according to the major opinions that the Ark had been removed from the Temple decades before the Temple’s destruction, the Temple’s destruction would have also not been so tragic. Similarly, the Second Temple, which never housed the Ark, would also not have had a remarkably tragic destruction. These ideas are untenable.

Instead, I answered that the Torah dedicates so much detail to the construction of the Sanctuaries because they were the physical manifestations of Israel’s dedication to God’s service. The contributions of gold and silver transcended their physical value. They were the pride and joy of our people. The tragedy of the destruction of the First Temple was that due to our sins, the neglect of God’s law, the great riches that had been dedicated to the Temple fell into the hands of the heathens for their own profane use. This is a theme addressed by the prophets and sages, and part of the consolation of Zion that led to the building of the Second Temple was that they were returned. However, as history attests, the only component of the Mosaic Tabernacle that ever fell into enemy hands was the Ark, while the rest of Tabernacle, including its structural components and appointments, was evacuated from Shiloh before the Philistines got there, and eventually made its way to Nov, then Gibeon, and then was brought to be put into g’niza, permanent storage, under the Temple in Jerusalem. The Philistines merely demolished the stone walls that held up the impermanent, tent-like roof of the Shiloh Sanctuary and its stone altar, but the original altars of wood, bronze, and gold, for the burnt offerings and the incense, were saved. Thus, major tragedy was averted, although the people learned a harsh lesson. This explains why the prophets did not in any way detail the destruction of Shiloh like they did that of Jerusalem. No spoils were taken. I therefore suggest, as others have done before me, that the fact, mentioned in Sota 9b, that Moses’s major handiwork, the Tabernacle, never fell into enemy hands, is the basis for the idea that the same would have been true for the Temple. 

I recently had the honor of discussing these issues with Rabbi Shendorfi, and in response to his challenges, I collected the various sources within the writings of the Meiri, the Meshech Hochma, and the Hevel Nahalato that point to the absence of the Ark of the Covenant from the Sanctuaries at Nov and Gibeon as the reason, or perhaps the halachic mechanism that allowed, for the hetter bamoth, the permission to offer sacrifice outside of the Sanctuary. The original and complete Hebrew version of my analysis and conclusions is available here,, while an oral explanation thereof can be found in a series of Youtube videos here. God willing, their English counterparts will be made available soon.

The following is a summary of my main original arguments:

Maimonides describes two positive commandments (to offer all sacrifices in the chosen Sanctuary, and to bring all sacrificially designated things outside of Israel to the Sanctuary) and two negative commandments (not to slaughter sacrifices outside the Sanctuary courtyard, and not to burn any sacrifice outside the Sanctuary courtyard) that, as the sages point out in Z’vahim 14:4-10, did not apply when the Sanctuary stood in Nov and Gibeon. This is the state we refer to as hetter bamoth, when anyone could build his own bama, a “high place”, i.e., an altar, for private sacrifice.

The aforementioned commandments were taken very seriously early in our history; Joshua 22 describes how shortly after the Sanctuary was established at Shiloh, the Transjordanian tribes of Israel built a large, purely symbolic altar along the Jordan, and the other tribes were prepared to go to war against them for what was their seeming intention not to follow these commandments, while the book of Kings judges every single king of both Israel and Judah by how well each upheld these commandments. Every king of Israel starting from Jeroboam onward with the exception of Hosea son Elah, the last king of Israel, is faulted for maintaining places of sacrifice other than Jerusalem, while many kings of Judah are criticized for not abolishing the private altars that stood in their realms, and Hezekiah is the described as the greatest, most righteous king because he finally put an end to the practice. (I have always said that the modern political and religious establishment preventing Jews from visiting the site of the Temple, etc., is merely another manifestation of Jeroboam’s main policies, policies he and almost every one of his successors adopted in order to maintain their own grips on power. Thus, until an Israeli Prime Minister once again allows the Jewish People to worship God as per the Torah, they will all have “done evil in the eyes of God.”)

The main question before us is, therefore, on what basis did our ancestors establish altars and offer sacrifice outside of the Sanctuary during the time when it stood in Nov and Gibeon? What was the source or reason for this temporary suspension of a number of Biblical commandments?

The Meiri, noting that since the Ark of the Covenant was never present in the Sanctuaries at Nov and Gibeon, as is clear from the Book of Samuel, writes that its absence was the ostensible halachic allowance for sacrifice on private altars:

 הואיל ולא היה הארון קבוע עם המזבח – הותרו הבמות

Many similar sources can be found in Hevel Nahalato, available here. One of them is the Meshech Hochma, who claims that the Israelites were permitted, in isolated incidents, to offer sacrifice beyond the Shiloh Sanctuary when the Ark was temporarily removed from the Sanctuary. The problem is that this view of the Meshech Hochma, and the views of those who followed him, can not be resolved with Maimonides’s own commentary to the fourteenth chapter of Z’vahim, in which he explicitly writes, as per both Talmudim, that the hetter bamoth of the  Nov/Gibeon era was on the authority of an expository tradition of our sages (Z’vahim 119a):

When they came to Gibeon [and set up the Mishkan there], bamoth were [once again] permitted. How do we know that? — Because our Rabbis taught: “For you have not yet come to the m’nuha, the resting place and the nahala, the inheritance.” ‘The resting place’ alludes to Shiloh, ‘the inheritance’ alludes to Jerusalem. Why does Scripture separate them? [That is, why does scripture mention that there are two destinations?] In order to grant permission between one and the other.

See Maimonides’s complete commentary to Z’vahim 14, in which he also describes how the bamoth that existed before the Tabernacle was at Shiloh, when it was in Gilgal, were allowed by yet another derivation from the relevant verses, and not because the Ark was usually outside of the Tabernacle:

לפי שתלה הכתוב איסור הבמות במחנה והוא שנאמר אשר ישחט שור או כשב או עז במחנה ונתן טעם בזה למען אשר יביאו בני ישראל את זבחיהם וגו’ וזהו איסור הבמות לפי שמיום שפסקו המחנות [תרגום הרי׳׳ק: ״חיסול מחנות״] ונכנסו לארץ ר”ל ארץ כנען והוא הזמן שבאו לגלגל נסתלקה מצות לא תעשה זו ונשאר מותר 

As a matter of fact, according to the non-Maimonidean school, it would actually be quite imprecise for the sages of the Mishna to declare that there was a hetter bamoth during the Gilgal period, or any period for that matter. As a matter of fact, the entire style of the Mishna, to state whether there was a hetter bamoth or issur bamoth when the Sanctuary stood in any place, is pointless according to the Meiri and Meshech Hochma. Instead, the Mishna should have just stated a general rule at the outset that when the Ark was kept in the Tabernacle, the bamoth were prohibited, and when the Ark was taken out of the Tabernacle, the bamoth were permitted. As we will be reminded later on, the fact that the Mishna describes certain periods is exactly as the Talmud concludes: the permissibility of the bamoth depended on the time period, and not on a particular condition that could change during that period. 

One particular passage in Hevel Nahalato is particularly perplexing because he acknowledges Maimonides’s explanation for why the bamoth were permitted during the Gilgal period, but he then writes that the permission during the Nov/Gibeon period was granted because the Ark was absent.

 ישנה הסיבה בזמן נוב וגבעון שארון לא היה במקומו ואז המזבח ירד ממדרגתו להיות במה גדולה. וישנה הסיבה שהיתה בגלגל שבטלה החלוקה למחנות שכינה לויה וישראל ולכן אף המשכן כולו ירד ממדרגתו לדרגת במה גדולה\

This idea, which explicitly contradicts Maimonides’s own words, is echoed in later works, including those on the internet, such as this article by Rabbi Prof. Yoel Elitzur, son of the late Bible scholar Rabbi Yehuda Elitzur, and in it, he brings an answer that I recall hearing was also offered by Rabbi Soloveichik. He begins by citing another relevant passage from Maimonides’s laws (4:1):

When Solomon built the Temple, he was aware that it would ultimately be destroyed. [Therefore,] he constructed a chamber, in which the Ark could be entombed below [the Holy of Holies] in deep, maze-like vaults. King Josiah commanded that [the Ark] be entombed in the chamber built by Solomon, as it is said: “He said to the Levites, consecrated to the Lord, who taught all Israel, ‘Put the Holy Ark in the House that Solomon son of David, king of Israel, built…’” (II Chronicles 35:3).

This is unusual, as Rambam generally does not rule on historical questions in Mishneh Torah, including the interpretation of texts and even halakhic questions that were only relevant in the past (such as the permissibility of the bamoth), unless there is some practical halakhic implication for the present or the future, or if the question touches on a fundamental foundation of faith. In light of this, why did Rambam choose to rule with such certainty in our case, weighing in on what amounts to a Tannaitic historical dispute?

It is likely that the reason behind this ruling can be found in the Talmud Yerushalmi:

Rabbi Yassa said in the name of Rabbi Yohanan: “This is the rule – whenever the Ark is within [the Sanctuary], the bamot are forbidden; when it has left [the Sanctuary], the bamot are permitted.” Rabbi Ze’ira asked Rabbi Yassa: “Even [when the Ark has left the Sanctuary] temporarily, as in the case of Eli?” (Yerushalmi Megilla 1:12)

In the style of the Yerushalmi, Rabbi Ze’ira’s question that was seemingly left unanswered serves as its own conclusion: Indeed, even when the Ark leaves the Sanctuary temporarily, the bamot become permitted. Rabbi Meir Simcha of Dvinsk, in his Meshekh Chokhma commentary on Parashat Re’eh, expanded on this notion, using it to explain the apparent violation of the prohibition on bamot during the Shiloh period. According to him, during the time of the Mishkan in Shiloh, the Ark would be removed regularly from its place to be present at national gatherings elsewhere, and sometimes it would even remain in those other locations for extended periods of time. During those periods when the Ark was absent from the Mishkan in Shiloh, claims the Meshekh Chokhma, the bamot were permitted.

Now we can return to Rambam’s unusual ruling. In a different, well-known statement that is accepted as the normative halakha, Rambam rules that the “first consecration” performed by Solomon in Jerusalem applied “for that time and for eternity” (Hilkhot Beit Ha-bechira 6:14). This ruling has several halakhic implications, both positive – we can offer sacrifices on the Temple site even without the Temple itself; we can eat the “most holy” sacrifices even without the “hangings” of the Courtyard; we can eat sacrifices of lesser sanctity and ma’aser sheni even without the wall surrounding Jerusalem (Mishna Eduyot 8:6; Hilkhot Beit Ha-bechira 6:15) – and negative – the impure may not enter the area of the Courtyard; and bamot are prohibited outside of Jerusalem. In order to reconcile this ruling with the statement of the Yerushalmi, Rambam was forced to rule in accordance with Rabbi Judah son of Lakish – the Ark was hidden in its own place![11] If so, according to Rambam the Ark is still in its original location, waiting for us in the depths of the Holy of Holies, beneath the Foundation Stone in Jerusalem.

I wrote to Prof. Elitzur about how this is not a valid resolution to the question regarding Maimonides’s formulation because it assumes that the exchange between Rabbi Yassa and Rabbi Ze’ira is the bottom-line halacha and the conclusion of that Talmudic discussion, but in reality, the Talmud continues, and brings, at the conclusion of that section cited above, an elaboration of the mishnayoth in Z’vahim we saw above. There, at the conclusion of the first chapter of YT M’gilla, it explains why bamoth were prohibited during the Shilonic period, then permitted in the intervening period, and then permanently prohibited once the Temple was built: it was a d’rasha, an esoteric rule encoded in the unusual language of the prohibition, and it did not condition the hetter bamoth on the Ark’s constant presence in the Sanctuary, and is along the lines of the passage from Z’vahim 119a, above, and in the corresponding section from the Yerushalmi, after quoting the same verse referencing “the resting place” and “the inheritance,” and explaining that the former was Shiloh and the latter was Jerusalem, the consequences are explained:

Thus, while the Tent of Meeting [stood during the sojourn in the wilderness], the bamoth were prohibited. While [it stood] in Gilgal, the bamoth were permitted. While [it stood] in Shiloh, the bamoth were prohibited. While [it stood] in Nov and Gibeon, the bamoth were permitted. While [it stood] in Jerusalem, the bamoth were prohibited. [This can be compared] to a man who told his servant, “do not drink wine from Tiberias, nor from Caesarea, nor from Sephoris,” implying that from areas between those places, he could [drink wine].

And that is how Maimonides explains the Mishnayoth in his uncensored commentary to Z’vahim. This seems necessary, because the exposition of the verse about “the resting place” and “the inheritance” does not seem to teach anything about the Gilgal period, and it must be that the hetter bamoth of that period was due to some other factor. Be that as it may, Maimonides reiterates why there was a hetter bamoth between the Shiloh and Jerusalem eras: Moses, when he related this command, had implied that there would be a period between the two major Sanctuaries when the bamoth would once again be permitted.

It therefore turns out that Rabbi Yassa’s rule, actually a k’lal in the original Hebrew, should more accurately be translated as a “general principle,” less a declaration of halacha, and more of a mnemonic, a correlation that does not imply causation. If you will ask, how are we to remember if high places were permitted during the days of a particular sanctuary, then look for the Ark. The Ark stood in Shiloh, so the high places were then prohibited, but it did not stand in Nov and Gibeon, and therefore high places were permitted in their days. But Rabbi Ze’ira points out that this is too simplistic, because it implies that if the Ark were to have been removed from Shiloh temporarily, then the high places would have been temporarily permitted, or if the Ark were to be removed from the Temple in Jerusalem, it would also result in a hetter bamoth until it would be brought back, which is untenable, and explains why Rabbi Yassa has no rejoinder for Rabbi Ze’ira’s point, because the hetter bamoth, according to the conclusion of this Yerushalmi, and according to the plain meaning of the Bavli in Z’vahim, and according to Maimonides’s commentary, does not depend on the strict and immediate presence of the Ark of the Covenant in the Sanctuary, and that is why the Temple is still the Temple in its state of desolation according to Maimonides, even though the Ark has not been present therein since the late First Temple Period.

I also have a hard time accepting Rabbi Shendorfi’s terminology which implies that when the Ark is absent, the Sanctuary’s altar loses (lit. descends from its level of) sanctity and becomes a “bama g’dola, a great high place.” This term, bama g’dola, is actually greatly misunderstood, as we shall see. We also disagreed regarding the application of the word miqdash to the Tabernacles of Nov and Gibeon; I had written that the interpretation of what Maimonides wrote in the first source cited above meant that the Nov and Gibeon Sanctuaries were מקדשים לכל דבר, “Sanctuaries for all intents and purposes,” and this was also stated by Rabbi Bar Hayim in a series of recent lectures posted to Youtube, but Rabbi Shendorfi argued that Nov and Gibeon were not ״,מקדשים לכל דבר״ that they were somehow inferior or of lesser status, and the prophets never referred to Nov and Gibeon the way they referred to Shiloh and Jerusalem, and challenged me to prove my assertion. I think Maimonides’s opening ruling/definition is sufficient, and my challenge was instead to answer why the destruction of Shiloh became an afterthought, and why the subsequent Sanctuaries were not described with reverence.

I Kings 9:2-5, I Chronicles 22:1, and Psalms 132:14, and other relevant verses, as well as Laws of the Chosen Temple 1:3 and 6:13-16 show beyond any doubt that according to Maimonides, there is no indication that the sanctity of the Temple and the eternal prohibition against bamoth that were initiated with the Temple’s inauguration had anything to do with the absence or presence of the Ark in the Temple. Rather, they were made known to us expressly by the prophets and the Mosaic tradition.

Not only that, in those latter laws, Maimonides actually explains the nature of the Temple’s eternal sanctity and its halachic ramifications, and how their unconditional nature stands in stark contrast to the sanctity of the land of Israel, which is conditional, and therefore subject to nullification:

How was [the Second Temple] consecrated? With the first consecration initiated by Solomon, for he consecrated the Temple Courtyard and Jerusalem for that time and for eternity. Therefore, we may offer all the sacrifices [at the Temple], even though the Temple itself is not built. Similarly, the most holy sacrifices can be eaten in the entire [area of the] Courtyard, even though it is in ruin and not surrounded by a formal wall. We may also eat less holy sacrifices and the second tithe throughout Jerusalem, even though it is not [presently] surrounded by a wall, for through its original consecration, it was consecrated for that time and for eternity.

Why do I say that the original consecration sanctified the Temple and Jerusalem for eternity, while with regard to the consecration of the remainder of the Land of Israel, specifically regarding whether the Sabbatical year, tithes, and other related [agricultural] laws are in force, [the original consecration] did not sanctify it for eternity? Because the sanctity of the Temple and Jerusalem stems from the Divine Presence, and the Divine Presence can never be nullified. Thus, Leviticus 26:31 states: “I will lay waste to your sanctuaries.” The Sages declared: “Even though they have been devastated, their sanctity remains.”

In contrast, the [original] obligation to keep the laws of the Sabbatical year and tithes on the Land stemmed from the fact that it was conquered by the [Jewish people as a united] community. Therefore, when the land was taken from their hands [by the Babylonians,] their [original] conquest was nullified. Thus, according to Torah law, the land was freed from the obligations of the Sabbatical year and tithes because it was no longer “Land of Israel.”

That is, according to Maimonides, the sanctity of something is whether or not the relevant commandments and laws apply to it. An Aaronite priest is holy because specific commandments apply to him beyond those that apply to an ordinary Jew, whereas a halal, the offspring of a priest and a woman not fit for him, is desecrated, and the commandments and laws of the priesthood do not not apply to him. The land of Israel was promised to the Patriarchs and is eternally in the possession of the Jewish people, but its sanctity only exists under certain conditions, and it is only under those conditions that the laws and commandments actually apply therein. The idea of sanctity is a fundamental tenet of halacha, and applies in various forms to inanimate objects, vegetation, animals, people, places, and even time periods.

Most importantly, Maimonides writes explicitly how the Holy of Holies was holier than every other place:

בית קודש הקודשים מקודש ממנו שאין נכנס לשם אלא כהן גדול ביום הכיפורים, בשעת העבודה

The Holy of Holies is holier than [the rest of the Sanctuary edifice], as only the High Priest may enter there on Yom Kippur at the time of the service.

We see from this halacha that the essence of the Holy of Holies’ sanctity derived from the fact it was the place designated for more commandments than the other places, i.e., it had even stricter rules of limited entry than the rest of the Temple, and it was designated for a unique sacrificial service not performed elsewhere, and that is what made it holy, even when, for centuries perhaps, the Ark of the Covenant was absent. In the Guide to the Perplexed (3:45, based on the Friedlander translation), Maimonides explains that these defined areas of additional sanctity have a specific utility:

It is evident that the object of giving different degrees of sanctity to the different places, to the Temple Mount, the place between the two walls, to the women’s courtyard, to the Hall, and so on up to the Holy of Holies, was to raise the respect and reverence of the Temple in the minds of all who approached it.

The sixteenth-century commentator Radbaz has a classic explanation of Maimonides’s distinction between the sanctity of the Temple and the sanctity of the land, and it answers a question regarding the Mishna (Keilim 1) that Maimonides cites regarding the ten levels of sanctity within the Land of Israel:

The land of Israel is sanctified above all other lands. What is its sanctity? From it we bring the ‘omer, the bikkurim, and the two loaves of (pentecostal) bread.

Why doesn’t the Mishna just state that the land’s sanctity is that the mitzwoth hat’luyoth ba’aretz, the agricultural commandments that are contingent on the land, only apply in the land of Israel?

The answer is that the Mishna was aware that the main sanctity of the land is transient, that it was once conditional and then nullified, and therefore there were times when the land had no sanctity, i.e., the usual commandments were not in force. But, because the Temple’s sanctity is eternal and unconditional, and never lapsed, the sacrifices were always required, and the offerings mentioned in this Mishna are all public offerings of the Temple, and therefore this aspect of the land’s sanctity, which is a derivative of the Temple’s sanctity, is also eternal. That means, for example, that if during the times of the Babylonian exile, before work even began on the Second Temple and the altar was rebuilt, the Jews had an opportunity to offer sacrifice at the Temple ruins, as apparently happened at certain times even after the destruction of the Second Temple, and it was Passover or Pentecost, they would have to make sure that the grains they were using for the ‘omer and the pentecostal loaves, (also called bikkurim) had to come from the land of Israel, even though they could not and did not count the years of the Sabbatical cycle, or tithe their crops, or keep the other commandments that were contingent on the land.

Were the Temple’s sanctity conditional like that of the land’s sanctity, as the Meiri and the Meshech Hochma claim, I would have expected Maimonides to say so, just as he wrote how the land’s sanctity was once conditional and subject to nullification, and just as he wrote in the Book of Commandments regarding a similar issue:

If we were to suppose that the people of Israel were to disappear from the land of Israel – although it is sacrilege to say that God allow such a thing, as He has already promised that the remnant of this people shall neither be erased or uprooted – then our calculation [of the calendar] would not be of any utility to us whatsoever, because we are not supposed to calculate and intercalate the years and establish new moons outside of the land except for specific circumstances, and as we have explained, “for Torah shall go forth from Zion, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.”

According to Maimonides, the complete removal of the Jews from the land of Israel would be the destruction of the Jewish people.

This passage teaches us that the responsibility/necessity of a court to establish the Jewish calendar is, at least in theory, conditioned on the presence of that court within the land of Israel.

Thus, if the Temple’s sanctity was conditional, for example, on the presence of the Ark of the Covenant, we would have expected Maimonides to write something along the lines of:

If we were to suppose that the Ark of the Covenant were to disappear from the Temple – heaven forbid – then the entire sanctity of the Temple would be nullified, and we would not be able to offer any of the public sacrifices therein, even though the Temple would still be standing in all its grandeur, and we would not be able to eat the most holy sacrifices in the Temple Courtyard even if its walls were standing, and neither would we be able to eat less holy sacrifices and the second tithe within Jerusalem even if it had a wall, because the original sanctification of the Temple only has effect as long as the Ark remains in the Temple.

But Maimonides never wrote any such thing. It is very difficult to argue that according to Maimonides, or the sages for that matter, the sanctity of the Temple would be contingent on the presence of the Ark.

…

We will now turn to explaining what Maimonides’s intent was in seemingly ruling that the Ark of the Covenant was hidden in a secret chamber beneath the Temple Mount. The matter of the Ark’s disappearance from history is a matter of dispute both among secular researchers (at least among those who believe it ever existed) and our sages, and it seems that many of the proposed narratives are speculative and conjectural. How and why did Maimonides see fit to take sides in this argument?

As we have mentioned, the Meiri and Meshech Hochma et al. claim that the Ark must have stayed within the Temple for its sanctity to be able to persist, thus allowing for us to keep all of the positive and negative commandments of the Temple throughout history, even during the times the Temple stands in ruins, and even during Second Temple times. Although this could very well be a valid explanation for why some of the sages may have claimed that the Ark was hidden under the Temple, it certainly could not have been Maimonides’s reason.

My tentative answer is that with regards to historical and halachic disputes that have no clear resolution, it is Maimonides’s general practice to side with the position that draws the most scriptural support. In this case, there is a verse that seems to describe Josiah instructing the Priests and Levites to hide the Ark, and although Kings, Jeremiah, and Chronicles describe how the Babylonians destroyed and despoiled the Temple in great detail, no mention is made whatsoever of the Ark. This seems to indicate that the Ark was safely hidden before the destruction. This may also be the reason why the Mishna assumes that the Ark was hidden under the Temple, even though differing opinions existed among the sages. 

But why would Maimonides include his historical view at this point in the laws of the Temple?

My first answer is that just like in his introduction to the Yad, Maimonides lists all of the transmitters of the Oral Tradition in order to emphasize that the halachoth he records are solidly grounded in positive tradition, and in the first chapter of these laws he emphasizes the unbroken Jewish tradition of Sanctuary service since the revelation at Sinai until the permanent Temple in Jerusalem, and in the second chapter he brings the importance of the historical, eternal tradition of the location of the Altar, and in this fourth chapter, Maimonides emphasizes the Foundation Stone that lay prominently in the Holy of Holies, which has a long history parallel to that of the location of the Altar, and serves as its reference point. Yes, in the First Temple the Ark and the manna and Aaron’s staff rested upon the stone, but in the Second Temple, when they had already been hidden, the Foundation Stone was still there, and that was the important part. That is why Maimonides then describes how, because the location of the Holy of Holies needs to be exactly that as demanded by positive tradition, the builders of the Second Temple adjusted the plan of the partitions between the Holy and the Holy of Holies because of the doubt that had arisen. In each of these chapters, Maimonides’s purpose is to define a specific place to the exclusion of all others: The Temple Mount in Jerusalem to the exclusion of all other places in Israel, the place of the Altar as it always was to the exclusion of any other place on the Mount; the place of the Holy of Holies to the exclusion of any other place on the western part of the Mount. 

(Considering that because Maimonides already wrote in his commentary to the Mishna that the Temple’s sanctity is eternal and inalterable, and certainly not contingent on the presence of the Ark, I would have expected the Meshech Hochma and others to suggest that the sanctity of the Temple emanates from the presence of the Foundation Stone. I would not be surprised to learn that others have already suggested this.)

On the other hand, one might have thought that perhaps the location of the Holy of Holies should depend on that of the Ark, for example, if the Ark were now hidden 30 feet underground and a few hundred feet to the east of the where the foundation stone is (the Chamber of Wood was at the eastern end of the Temple’s outer courtyard), the Second Temple’s edifice should have been built directly over that new spot.

Secondly, Maimonides mentions that the Ark and the other items, Aaron’s staff, and the manna and the anointing oil, are still intact because these items serve as the tokens of the covenant (see below). A couple can not stay together alone in the house, or vacation on the opposite side of the world together, if they do not know where their k’thuba is. So too, Maimonides needed to write that the Temple is still God’s chosen place to be with His chosen people, and the marriage contract and the tokens of the covenant are still there for safekeeping.

Thirdly, Maimonides is following an idea found in the Midrash (Genesis Rabba 79:7):

“[Jacob] bought the section of the field where he had pitched his tent for one hundred qesita.” Rabbi Judah b. Simon said, “this is one of three places with which the nations of the world cannot deride Israel saying, ‘they are not lawfully yours:’ the Cave of the Patriarchs, the Holy Temple, and Joseph’s burial plot.

The verse described how all of these places were bought by Abraham, David, and Jacob respectively, for large sums. History has shown time and again that the people of Israel have endured the strange fortune of having to fight to maintain their historical connection to their eponymous land, even though the Chinese and Bulgarians and most others have not had to fight to maintain theirs.

Maimonides foresaw how one day, the nations of the world would challenge Israel’s right to the land of Israel, Jerusalem, the Temple Mount, and the places of the Altar and the Sanctuary, and that they would thus challenge the intrinsic and eternal holiness of those places. He thus brought the history and the enduring connection of those places to the Jewish tradition when explaining how their eternal sanctity affects the commandments that are meant to be performed in those places.

…

Rabbi Shendorfi used Rashi’s comments on Z’vahim 61b in an attempt to show how the Sanctuaries at Nob and Gibeon were of lesser holiness, but I disagreed with him because, in that context, Rashi was specifically addressing the construction of the altars at those two Sanctuaries, and as per the discussion on the previous folio, those altars only possessed a temporary sanctity that had long since passed, as opposed to the sanctity of the transportable, bronze altar of the Tabernacle, which maintained some of its sanctity even when it was not in usable condition, and the holiness of the Temple altars, which exists to this day at the site of the altar, even though the altar itself still awaits to be rebuilt. 

…

I will not translate the detailed disagreement regarding the interpretation of Z’vahim 119a, regarding where the second tithe was consumed in the years after the destruction of Shiloh and before the Temple was built. The Hevel Nahalato wondered why Maimonides and the Bartenura did not interpret the Mishna according to Rabbi Judah’s position if the halacha is normally in accordance with Rabbi Judah. My answer is that the Hevel Nahalato assumes that Rabbi Judah’s opinion is as explained by Rashi, but Maimonides and Bartenura understand the discussion entirely differently, and in their view, they do interpret the Mishna as being in accordance with Rabbi Judah. 

…

I suggest that it is a fallacious tendency to causally link the facts that the Ark was not present in both Nov and Gibeon and that at those times there was a hetter bamoth. However, correlation does not mean causation, as can be seen from the conclusions of both Talmudim and Maimonides’s commentary. The hetter bamoth was not due to the absence of the Ark, although it did coincide with the absence of the Ark. As I wrote earlier, this was even a rejected hawa amina in the Talmud. I am therefore not surprised that the rabbinic-literary record shows that this hawa amina appeared a few times in history. 

In the 20th century works that did assume this causal relationship, a slew of Biblical and Talmudic sources was marshaled as proof, but each time the indication was that indeed there was a correlation, but no proof of causation. For example, the Tosefta at the end of Z’vahim says “What was the great bama during the period of the hetter bama? The Tent of Meeting was pitched as normal, but the Ark was not there.” This, as the Hevel Nahalato and Rabbi Shendorfi pointed out, seems to say that the hetter bamoth may have been due to the absence of the Ark, but we should first ask what this teaching tells us beyond what is explicitly mentioned in many verses in Kings, Chronicles, and Samuel, including this one (I Kings 3:3-4):

Solomon loved the Lord, walking in the statutes of David his father; he would only slaughter and sacrifice in the [official] high places. The king went to Gibeon to sacrifice there; for that was the great bama; Solomon offered a thousand burnt-offerings upon that altar. 

The answer happens to be found in the two previous verses (ibid., 1-2):

Solomon married into Pharaoh, king of Egypt’s, family; he married Pharaoh’s daughter, and brought her to the city of David until he completed building his own house, the Temple of the Lord, and the wall of Jerusalem roundabout. Yet the people still sacrificed at the high places, because there was still no Temple built for the name of the Lord in those days. 

That is, the bamoth would become prohibited once the Temple was built. This verse is the clearest Biblical source for the Talmudic/Maimonidean position. Indeed, the Tabernacle stood in Gibeon while the Ark was first in Abinadab’s house and then in Jerusalem, and at that time Gibeon was called the “great bama” and other bamoth were permitted, but the reason for bamoth being permitted was because the permanent Temple had yet to be built.   

This is actually quite profound. One might have argued that if a “great bama” was at Gibeon, while an ordinary [minor] bama is any other private altar, then ever since David brought the Ark to Jerusalem and the prophets had endorsed his plan to build a permanent Temple in Jerusalem, and they had established an altar at what would be the site of the future, permanent Temple, there were actually two national central places of worship: the great bama in Gibeon, and the bama that already stood in Jerusalem, at the site of the future Sanctuary which God had chosen and which was accompanied by God’s messiah and His Ark. The verses therefore teach us that even though Solomon was stationed in Jerusalem, and he already had an established altar at the designated site of the Temple and the Ark of the Covenant was already waiting there in Jerusalem, the Tabernacle at Gibeon, where only Aaronite priests could serve and where the sacrificial service was done on the nation’s behalf every day “as per the the Torah of Moses” (I Chronicles 16:39-40) was still the only place true place of national, central worship, and for example, the Paschal offering could only be brought there (Laws of the Paschal Offering 1:2-3). I believe that there were perhaps thousands who were of this belief already in the last few years of David’s reign, especially after many Israelites became uncomfortable with making their pilgrimages to Gibeon, which, although a priestly city (Joshua 21:17), was also inhabited by cruel, unforgiving non-Jews (II Samuel 21:1-7), and had twice been the site of inter-Israelite, political violence (II Samuel 2:12-17 and 20:8). 

This idea is actually alluded to in Moses’s prayer when the Israelites would begin their journeys in the wilderness. “the Ark of the Lord’s Covenant would travel before them… to seek out m’nuha, rest, for them” (Numbers 10:33). “And when the Ark traveled, Moses said, Arise O Lord, and Your enemies will be dispersed, and those who hate You will flee from before You” (ibid., 35). As we saw, m’nuha is a reference to the Shiloh Sanctuary and its time period. That is, when the Israelites first came into Canaan, as Maimonides described, the land was sanctified through their conquests, when the Ark of the Covenant would lead them out to war. (As we wrote earlier, every one of the Israelite’s journeys from Sinai were acts of war and conquest). The Ark would go out to war with the people throughout their conquests, until at the end of those conquests, it, along with the rest of the Tabernacle, was brought to its first resting place in Shiloh, but after that, once God had come to His permanent resisting place, His nahala, portion, the Land would be sanctified not through war and conquest, but by the mere presence of His people. 

Another ramification of the Talmudic outlook regarding the hetter bamoth is that we are not obliged, like the Meshech Hochma and others were, to explain examples in the Books of Joshua and Judges wherein the Israelites built altars and offered sacrifice beyond the Shiloh Sanctuary as instances of when the Ark was temporarily removed from the Sanctuary. Instead, just like we find explicitly regarding Elijah at Mt. Carmel, and Gideon (Judges 6:25-26) and Manoah (ibid., 13:16), God expressly instructed them to offer sacrifice then and there, what the sages called a hora’ath sha’a, a one-time dispensation, the other instances were also similarly prophetic temporary dispensations. 

Another Biblical passage presents a challenge to the Meiri’s position. Upon witnessing the Clouds of Glory fill the Temple, Solomon declared (I Kings 8:18-21):

Now it was in the heart of my father David to build a temple for the Name of the Lord, God of Israel, but the Lord said to my father David: Because it was in your heart to build a temple for My name, you have done well with what was in your heart; However, you shall not build the Temple. Rather, your son, who shall come from out of your loins, he shall build the Temple for My Name. The Lord has kept His word that He spoke, and I have risen up in place of my father David, and I have sat on the throne of Israel, as the Lord spoke, and I have built the Temple for the Name of the Lord, God of Israel, and I have set therein a place for the Ark in which is the covenant of the Lord, which He forged with our fathers when He brought them out of the land of Egypt.’

According to the Meiri et al., why would Solomon need to say this? Isn’t the Temple’s very sanctity conditional on the presence of the Ark? Isn’t it supposed to be there? So why is it remarkable that Solomon’s magnificent Temple had a place for the Ark?

The answer is that, as Maimonides already implied, the Temple does not necessarily need the Ark. Yes, it was there during our best eras, but, as the Gibeon/Nov and Second Temple eras show, the Ark is far from necessary, and one should not assume that it would always be housed in the Sanctuary. An amazing aspect of the First Temple was that for the first time in decades, the Ark could once again be housed in the Holy of Holies.

Concerning the fact that Maimonides did not list an independent commandment to fashion the Ark, it must be noted that as he lists only one commandment to build and upkeep the Temple, and all of the service vessels within the Temple are included in the one commandment, and he does even count independent commandments to make those vessels that were actually used in the course of the service, e.g., the altars and the candelabrum, it is understandable why the Ark, which served no ritual purpose, enjoys no commandment regarding its own fabrication. This also explains why no replacement ark was created for the Second Temple: it served no practical purpose and did not and could not be replaced, because its purpose was disconnected from any Temple service. Only Solomon, and not Samuel, David, or Saul, installed the Ark in the Sanctuary when the time came. We see from this that it did not bother anyone that the Sanctuary lacked the Ark until then.

Josiah’s aforementioned removal of the Ark from the Temple did not in any way change the function or sanctity of the Temple.

Zerubbabel and Jeshua the High Priest received a mandate from Cyrus to do whatever was necessary to found and rebuild the Temple, and although they were guided by three prophets, they never sought to locate the Ark and return it, and they were never told to do so. Neither Ezra nor Nehemiah tried to do so even though they could have. Neither did any subsequent Jewish ruler: Simon the Just, the Maccabees, Simon ben Shetah, or Herod, who demolished the original structure of the Second Temple in order to build an even grander one under the guidance of the sages. All of these Second-Temple figures had just as much legal access to the entire Temple Mount as the modern Israeli government, and much less outside interference, if any at all. 

The Mishna does mention that there was a priest who believed that he may have found an indication of the Ark’s hiding place, and that he died a miraculous, sudden, and horrific death before he could share his find. This was a heavenly sign that the Ark was not supposed to be in the Second Temple. (In a nod to the teachings of R’ Avigdor Miller, I would argue that the benefit here was that the testimony contained in the Ark could not be claimed and hijacked by sectarian groups, the Sadducees, the Boethusians, and the Christians, that arose in that era and who did hijack the Temple and our scriptures when they had opportunities. At the very least, the Philistines who seized the Ark respected it as a vanquished god and learned to treat it with awe, and one could imagine that the Babylonians, who, according to some scholars both Jewish and non-Jewish, may have likewise shown some reverence to the Ark, but in the hands of the Christians it would be treated in a manner completely sacrilegious, or, God forbid as proof to their legitimacy. Until today, the Ethiopian Christians make such claims regarding the non-Ark they claim to possess.)

From a philosophical perspective, there never was and still is no reason to seek the Ark. In Hebrew, the Ark is referred to as both the Ark of the Covenant and the Ark of the Testimony because it holds the testimony, the physical relics, of the covenant enacted at Sinai: the tablets and the Torah are analogous to the Jewish institution of the marriage contract which is signed by both parties. In this case, the covenant has one document signed by God Himself, so to speak, the tablets, and the other by Israel’s legal representative, Moses, the Torah written by his hand. The Torah scroll itself was finalized by Moses on the day he died, when he contracted a second covenant with Israel, the covenant in the Plains of Moab, with the new generation that replaced the first. Nahmanides writes about how the Redemption from Egypt climaxed with the construction of the Tabernacle, while Solomon, in his speech at the Temple’s dedication, emphasized that the new edifice was to house the Ark of the covenant that began with the Exodus, which is why, of all of the events in scripture aside from the Passover observed in the wilderness a year after the Exodus, the dedication of Solomon’s Temple is dated to the year of the Exodus, as it was a continuation of that redemptive process.

However, in the interim exile, when the Second Temple’s construction was drawn out, the Jews reaccepted the Torah and the commandments anew, and out of love, as per the sages’ teaching regarding the ninth chapter of Esther, “the Jews accepted and upheld for themselves and for their descendants” that which they had previously accepted, and thus we had a new diaspora-born covenant that ascended to Israel with the builders of the Second Temple. The signing of this New Deal took place in the rebuilt Temple, as described in the latter part of the book of Nehemiah, among the people and their representatives led by Ezra, who, as the sages tell us, was worthy of receiving the Torah on Israel’s behalf, and was the one who had the final say as to the authorized text of the Torah, and who changed its script. The new tokens of this new covenant, Ezra’s Torah scrolls, were kept safely in the Temple, while the artisans fashioned new, engraved cherubim to adorn the back wall of the Holy of Holies, as though a replacement for the Ark of the Covenant, and analogous to the replacement marriage contract that the sages ordered a man to write for his wife if the original is no longer. The Ark of the Covenant was made to contain the physical evidence of the covenant and act as a divine antenna, but during the time of the Second Temple, the people saw how the Divine Presence rests upon Israel even in the Ark’s absence, and the people themselves carried or demonstrated the tokens of the eternal covenant with their very bodies.

This was foretold in Jeremiah 31:

Behold, days are coming, says the Lord, and I will enact a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah; not like the covenant that I made with their fathers the day that I took them by their hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, for they abrogated My covenant, although I lorded over them, says the Lord. For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will have placed My Torah within them, and I will write it upon their heart; I will be a God for them, and they shall be a nation for Me.

(See also Rashi’s commentary to Jeremiah 3:16.)

Even when the Ark’s whereabouts were known, its function was exclusively as a prophetic antenna, and even when it is was stowed away in Abinadab’s house, the prophets flourished, and when it was ultimately hidden, Josiah told the people that although the priests no longer had any responsibility to protect and transport the Ark, the people should continue to serve God as they always were supposed to have done. And even after that, new prophets arose in Israel. Thus, nothing actually changed when the Ark was lost, and we are hard-pressed to find any example of how, when the Ark’s location was known, our manner of serving God was supposed to be different from the way it is now.

The Mishna mentions that the sages approved of Hezekiah’s destruction of the brazen serpent Nehushtan that Moses had fashioned. At the time, the people had started to ascribe powers to the inanimate object, and this smacked of idolatry. I believe his great-grandson Josiah’s decision to hide the Ark was along the same lines, especially given the impending destruction which he sought to avoid. Shortly before the destruction of Shiloh, the people had looked to the Ark in an inappropriate manner, thinking that it somehow guaranteed them divine protection and victory in battle, and this was also slightly idolatrous. The Ark contains the documentation of the covenant, but the covenant still has to be kept if the Jews wish to merit divine protection. At that point, they were punished by being routed in battle, and having the Ark captured and the Sanctuary destroyed, and much of Samuel’s subsequent work was to get the people to abandon the idolatry to which they had become accustomed. The verse explicitly connects the Ark’s concealment with the people returning to the pure worship of God (I Samuel 7:2-3):

It was that from the day that the Ark abode in Kiriath-Jearim, that many years passed, it was ultimately twenty years, and the entire house of Israel was drawn to the Lord.

Samuel said to the entire house of Israel, saying: If you return to the Lord with all your heart, then get rid of the foreign gods and the ashtaroth from among yourselves, and direct your hearts to the Lord, and serve Him exclusively, and He will deliver you from the hand of the Philistines.

The first of these two verses describes the entire twenty-year period, the latter describes Samuel’s initiation of the repentance movement.

Josiah was trying to pre-empt this type of after-the-fact reaction to retribution. His generation believed that the very Temple was invincible and would afford them lasting protection (Jeremiah 7:4), and this may have been due to an overly literal understanding of the Sanctuary as God’s residence, as that is what seems to be indicated by the words in Exodus, but in actuality, in Moses’s own words in Deuteronomy and in the traditional Targumim, the Temple did not and can not possibly contain the One Whose glory fills the universe, but rather, it is a place dedicated to His name and service. Their reliance was possibly fatal, and Josiah therefore sought to show them that the Temple did not need the Ark in order to function, and that it was not some sort of talisman. In essence, he wanted to bring about the pure state of both private religious devotion and public sacrificial service that had been in Samuel’s time, but without having to suffer the destruction of the Sanctuary. The sages themselves discuss such forms of pre-emptive remedies, such as self-imposed lashes and exile for penitents, and praying outdoors and visiting cemeteries on emergency fast days.

This argument can be seen from the progression of events in II Chronicles 34 and 35. There are those who argue that the proof text for Josiah hiding the Ark, 35:3, actually describes Josiah returning the Ark to its rightful place within the Sanctuary, because either his father or grandfather had removed it, but if that were the case, we would have expected to find Josiah doing so much earlier in the narrative, when he became an adult and ordered the refurbishing of the Temple, during the course of which the priests found the ominous Torah scroll which prompted the king and his advisors to seek Hulda’s guidance. When her prophecy of impending destruction was heard, Josiah began his national campaign of repentance in an effort to stave off the impending disaster, ridding the land of idolatry and having the people enter into a new covenant to keep the Torah. In context, the hiding of the Ark can be seen as an act meant to ensure that the people’s intentions in their worship of God would be pure and exactly as the Torah had commanded.

Indeed, in the recently released Steinsaltz Tanakh in English, a similar point is made in the commentary to Jeremiah 3:16.

As for the important question, “isn’t the idea of the Sinaitic covenant being superseded dangerously close to the Christian doctrine which proposes a New Testament and a new covenant with a newly chosen people to replace Israel?” The answer is thankfully no, because what we have seen in our very own Torah (the covenant in the Plains of Moab) and in the rest of the Bible, as we mentioned, are not new covenants but merely reaffirmations of the original eternal covenant, and that which has been replaced is limited to the documentation thereof. To what is this analogous? To a lender who lost his promissory note, and has a new one issued to him by the court. The attestations are the same, that the loan was given on such a date to so-and-so and due at such time, except that it now supersedes the previous note if it were to be found. So too, the covenant since the time of the Second Temple is the same covenant of Abraham and Sinai, just attested to by different exhibits.

I certainly do not buy the argument that Josiah hid the Ark of the Covenant in order to protect it from falling into the hands of the Babylonian conquerors because there does not seem to be any scriptural support for this contention, and because unlike the other Temple appointments, which fell into the hands of both the Babylonians and Romans, and were then desecrated, we already have seen what happened to the Ark when it was captured by the uncircumcised heathens: it brought retribution upon them. Had the Babylonians or Romans been foolish enough to take the Ark, they would have learned their lesson even faster than the Philistines did.

Instead, I offer this passage from Sh’qalim (6:1):

מי גנזו יאשיהו גנזו כיון שראה שכתוב (דברים כח) יולך ה’ אותך ואת מלכך אשר תקים עליך אל גוי אשר לא ידעת אתה ואבותיך עמד וגנזו הדא הוא דכתיב (דברי הימים ב לה) ויאמר ללוים המבינים ולכל ישראל הקדושים לה’ תנו את ארון הקדש בבית אשר בנה שלמה בן דוד מלך ישראל אין לכם משא בכתף אמר להם אם גולה הוא עמכם לבבל אין אתם מחזירין אותו עוד למקומו אלא (שם) עתה עבדו את ה’ אלהיכם ואת עמו ישראל

Josiah said to the Levites, “if the Ark goes into exile with you, you will never return it to its place.”

Notice that Josiah was not afraid of the Babylonians taking the Ark; as we saw it it could take very good care of itself. Instead, he was afraid the Levites would take it to accompany the people in exile, and then once it would be there in Babylonia, the Levites would, for whatever reason, not return it to the Temple when the time came. Why not? Well, as we read in Ezra, there was little enthusiasm to leave Babylonia when the time came, and the Levites were especially lackadaisical. Nothing has changed in all these centuries. To take the Jews out of the exile, you first have to take the exile out of the Jews. Now imagine the Ark had joined the Jews in exile. They would have come up with all sorts of lofty-sounding divrei torah about how the Divine Presence is with them in Babylonia, how their synagogues are much more than miqd’shei m’at, and other such justifications, just as today we delude ourselves with excuses for not leaving the diaspora, not voting for leadership that pledges to uphold the Torah, and not pressing for the building of the Temple. W’hameivin yavin.

…

Rabbi Shendorfi then asked me incredulously, “The Ark does go in the Holy of Holies. Is that not what grants it its holiness?” and my answer was no, it has intrinsic holiness in that it has limited access, as the Mishna states. However, it is also the ideal place for storing not only the Ark, but also other major symbolic objects, like the manna and Aaron’s staff, but even so, sometimes circumstances call for some or all of those items to be removed from the Holy of Holies, but that by no means detracts from its holiness. 

Finally, returning to terminology, the sages followed the Biblical precedent of using the terms “great bama” and “minor bama” in the same way they referred to synagogues and study halls since the times of the Babylonian exile as miqd’shei m’at (based on Ezekiel 11:16), lit. “minor sanctuaries,” as opposed to THE miqdash. That is, during David’s time, because altars were called bamoth, even if they were not literally “high places,” the central, national altar was called “the great bama.” 

We should also note that even though we find the term “great bama” regarding Gibeon in the Bible, we do not find it regarding Nov, even though it is obvious that the Tabernacle stood there. Further, it is well known that the site of the Sanctuary at Shiloh was neither on top of any hill or mountain, nor was it in a particularly low spot, but rather in a level area on the side of a hill.

(The author standing in the vineyards below the site of the Tabernacle at Shiloh. The Tabernacle stood on the side of the hill in the center of the picture, above his left shoulder.)

We also have no indication that the Tabernacle, at any station in the wilderness or at Gilgal, was ever erected at a particularly high place. Thus, it seems to me that the novelty of these verses is two-fold: Gibeon was the first place that the Israelites erected the Tabernacle in a place that was noticeably elevated, and that place was called “the [great] bama” because of its appearance. That it, is in the Bible, the Sanctuary was always referred to as “the  Tabernacle” or House of the Lord, etc., while its location in Gibeon was descriptively called “the great bama,” and many years later, long after the Jerusalem Temple became established, the altar at Gibeon was then referred to as “the great bama“, and the sages eventually referred to the entire Sanctuary at Gibeon as “the great bama.” This is reminiscent of how, in the language of the Talmud and the Rishonim, there is the issue of k’nisa, entering, or biath, coming into, the miqdash (Maimonides even has a whole class of laws called “biath miqdash“), whereas today, the controversy is referred to as k’nisa l’har habayit, “entering the Temple Mount,” or even more distantly, aliya l’har habayit, “ascending the Temple Mount.” I, in the spirit of accuracy and fidelity to tradition, use the Maimonidean term in order to stress the importance of the commandment in our day; we are not just walking around the perimeter of the Temple Mount. לשכנו תדרשו, ובאת שמה. We are going to the Temple.[1]

Thus, we see that the prophets never referred to the Gibeon Sanctuary as “the great bama,” but rather to only its location as “the great bama,” and every halachic distinction between the private bamoth and “the great bama” discussed by the sages is only in the realm of the service on those altars, but with regard to every other aspect of the service that did not involve the altar, e.g., the services done with the other appointments, such as the candelabrum, the golden altar, and the table of the shewbread, and all the laws of the priesthood, there were no differences. That is, contrary to what the Hevel Nahalato argued, the public sanctuary service throughout the Nov and Gibeon periods was in no way different from that of the Shiloh and Jerusalem periods, with the only exception being the allowance to eat “the less holy sacrificial foods in any city of Israel,” as the Mishna states explicitly. Many, as can be seen, have suggested that certain sacrifices were simply not offered during the Nov and Gibeon periods, but these arguments can not be made within Maimonides’ understanding of the sources. 

I was then challenged by the following passage from the Guide wherein Maimonides proposes reasons for the Temple appointments (ibid.):

It is known that the heathens in those days built temples to stars, and set up in those temples the image which they agreed upon to worship; because it was in some relation to a certain star or to a portion of one of the spheres. We were, therefore, commanded to build a temple to the name of God, and to place therein the Ark with two tables of stone, on which there were written the commandments “I am the Lord,” etc., and “Thou shalt have no other God before me,” etc. Naturally the fundamental belief in prophecy precedes the belief in the Law, for without the belief in prophecy there can be no belief in the Law. But a prophet only receives divine inspiration through the agency of an angel… From the preceding remarks it is clear that the belief in the existence of angels is connected with the belief in the Existence of God; and the belief in God and angels leads to the belief in Prophecy and in the truth of the Torah. In order to firmly establish this creed, God commanded [the Israelites] to make the form of two angels on top of the Ark. The belief in the existence of angels is thus inculcated into the minds of the people, and this belief is second in importance to the belief in God’s Existence; it leads us to believe in prophecy and in the Torah, and opposes idolatry. If there had only been one figure of a cherub, the people would have been misled and would have mistaken it for God’s image which was to be worshiped, in the fashion of the heathen; or they might have assumed that the angel [represented by the figure] was also a deity, and would thus have adopted a Dualism. By making two cherubim and distinctly declaring “the Lord is our God, the Lord is One,” Moses clearly proclaimed the theory of the existence of a number of angels; he left no room for the error of considering those figures as deities, since [he declared that) God is one, and that He is the Creator of the angels, who are more than one.

Although this could be seen as Maimonides stressing that the Ark was an almost critical fixture of the Sanctuaries, when we consider that in his definition, three Sanctuaries never housed the Ark, we realize that here Maimonides is actually emphasizing the form of the Cherubim that adorned the Ark, and that, as pointed out by the sages, even when the Ark was absent from the Sanctuary, other Cherubim were still within the Holy of Holies: Solomon constructed two, larger wood and gold Cherubim that stood in the First Temple, while in the Second Temple there were Cherubim carved into the wooden interior wall of the Holy of Holies (Yoma 54), and they were overlaid with gold. Thus, the important symbolic and ideological message of the Cherubim was never missing from the Temple, even if the Ark was. 

…

This entire discussion began with an attempt to explain why the destruction of Shiloh was almost ignored in the book of Samuel, and is only invoked in passing in other prophetic books. In truth, the book of Samuel is entirely transitory in nature. It is the story of the transition between the old, egalitarian system, to a rigid, exclusive establishment.

In one of his previous videos, Rabbi Bar Hayim discussed the commandment to build the Temple, specifically the statement of the sages that the Israelites were commanded to appoint a king, destroy Amalek, and build the Temple, implying that the order described is required, and meaning that the Temple could only be built by a king, which many authorities understood to mean that in the event there is no king in Israel, as is the case, for example, now, then there is no obligation to build the Temple. Rabbi Bar Hayim disagrees with this position; Maimonides for example, in the previously cited section from the Guide explains that a king would only be required not for the construction of the Temple per se, but 

chiefly, every one of the twelve tribes would desire to have this place in its borders and under its control; this would lead to divisions and discord, such as were caused by the desire for the priesthood. Therefore it was commanded that the Temple should not be built before the election of a king who would order its erection, and thus remove the cause of discord. 

The king is necessary for us to get past the selection of a place for the Temple, but once that is no longer going to be disputed, a king would not be necessary.

Alternatively, a hereditary monarch might not be totally necessary; perhaps, as we have seen before, the role of a Jewish king can also be filled by a prophet or Judge, as Maimonides writes specifically regarding the commandment to conquer the land. This would explain how the Tabernacle and the Second Temple were built under the leadership of Moses and Zerubbabel as the undisputed leaders of Israel, respectively, even though neither held the title of king. A prime minister would be no different.

It is therefore my proposal that in the days of Joshua, who was the most faithful to Moses’s teachings and knew the Torah better than anyone else, the Israelites did fulfill these three commandments. Joshua was for all intents and purposes the king of Israel just like Moses was, the Israelites had concluded their wars for the security of the people, which is the essence of milhemeth amalek, and by building a semi-permanent Sanctuary at Shiloh, they fulfilled the commandment to build the Temple. For close to four hundred years, no one doubted that the Israelites and their chosen leader had not done exactly “as God commanded Moses.” However, as history has shown, the prophets were still among us, and even though once upon a time, certain crowns had yet to be taken, the prophets could inform us that eventually those crowns would fall into certain hands exclusively. 

Before David, they knew that the Tabernacle could be transferred to a new place, as long as God ordained it. Even Shiloh, the place that God did choose, was eventually “rejected” (Psalms 78:60, 67). The Tabernacle reverted to its original, transportable condition, until It finally found its permanent, never-to-be-replaced home. In that intervening period, the Ark was even waiting  for the Tabernacle to leave its temporary place in Gibeon and join it in Jerusalem. The Tabernacle was moving frequently, and when it reached its penultimate station, it was even rivaled by its eventual replacement. With regards to the priesthood, in the old system any of Aaron’s descendants were eligible for the high priesthood, and the sages pointed out that the high priests had been descended from both of Aarons’ surviving sons, Elazar and Ithamar. However, even though Eli’s family held the high-priesthood at the end of the Shiloh period, as we see from Saul’s massacre of that family at Nov, and the subsequent transfer of the Tabernacle to Gibeon where Zadok’s family apparently had lived since Joshua’s days, in the intervening period both Abiathar and Zadok enjoyed the privileges of the high priesthood, and many verses in Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles, as well as teachings of our sages, point to the growing tension between the two men and their families throughout David’s reign, leading to a dangerous intrigue that saw Zadok being appointed the exclusive high priest and Solomon letting Abiathar live despite his perhaps selfish involvement in insurrection. From then on, the prophets would describe how the high priesthood would be exclusively in the hands of Zadok’s house. The high priesthood was up for grabs, and when it reached its penultimate officeholder, he was rivaled by his eventual replacement. Most noticeably, in the old system leadership was open to all of the tribes of Israel, and the sages claimed that every tribe produced one of the Judges. However, Samuel, who was a Levite just like Moses, presided over the transition from his unofficial role in lieu of king, to a temporary, conditional, Benjamite dynasty, to a state of two competing kingdoms (Ishbosheth and David) to that of an eternal, Davidic dynasty, and even David’s own family suffered from instability until Solomon was a few years into his reign. Leadership was changing hands, and when it reached its penultimate office holder, he was even rivaled by his eventual replacement. These three houses, the House of God in Jerusalem, the House of David, and the House of Zadok, would form an inseparable union, and they would forever retain the crowns they had earned, even though those crowns used to change hands regularly.

These transitions were all described by Samuel and the anonymous prophet who preceded him (I Samuel 3:11-14). The destruction of Shiloh:

The Lord said to Samuel: Behold, I will do a thing in Israel, at which both ears of everyone who hears it shall tingle.

This expression is an allusion to the destruction of the Sanctuary, as can be clearly seen by its use in two later prophecies of the Sanctuary’s destruction, in II Kings 21:12 and Jeremiah 19:3. 

The House of Eli would be cursed:

On that day I will execute against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from the beginning even unto the end. For I have told him that I will judge his house forever, for the iniquity, in that he knew that his sons did bring a curse upon themselves, and he did not rebuke them. Therefore, I have sworn unto the house of Eli that the iniquity of Eli’s house shall never be expiated with sacrifice nor offering. 

and replaced:

And I will raise up a faithful priest for Myself, who shall do according to that which is in My heart and in My mind; and I will build a steady house for him, and he shall walk before My anointed forever. 

And this prophecy foreshadowed the rise of the Davidians, under whose tenure the Zadokite priests officiated (I Chronicles 29:22):

They ate and drank before the Lord on that day with great gladness. They made Solomon the son of David king for a second time, and anointed him for the Lord as ruler, and Zadok as priest.

Later, in the days of the building of the Second Temple, the prophet Zechariah described how these three great houses which had suffered from so much corruption leading up to the First Temple’s destruction, would experience a period of divine renewal (Zechariah 4:9-13):

The hands of Zerubbabel laid the foundation of this house; his hands shall also finish it, and you shall know that the Lord of Hosts has sent me to you. For who has despised the day of small things? Even they shall see with joy the plummet in Zerubbabel’s hand, even these seven [candles], which are the eyes of the Lord which dart to and fro across the whole earth. I Then responded, and said to him: ‘What are these two olive-trees on the right of the candelabrum and on its left?’ I responded a second time, and said to him, ‘What are these two olive branches, which are beside the two golden spouts, that empty the golden oil out of themselves?’ He answered me and said, ‘Do you not know what these are?’ And I said, ‘No, my lord.’ Then he said, ‘These are the two b’nei yitzhar,  those anointed with oil, who stand by the Lord of the whole earth.’

The anointed ones being Zerubbabel and Jeshua, the high priest. 

This explains why the destruction of Shiloh is almost ignored in the book of Samuel, and why Nov and Gibeon were not treated as full-fledged Sanctuaries in the eyes of the prophetic authors. They are not described with the same reverence and majesty that Shiloh and Jerusalem enjoyed, and Nov is nowhere explicitly described by any of the usual Biblical terms for any of the Sanctuaries, even though from a halachic standpoint it was a Sanctuary. This explains why Saul, after being rejected, was no longer an ideal, legitimate king even if he was halachically king even after David was anointed. This explains why Abiathar (II Samuel 15:24, according to the sages) and his father (I Samuel 14:3, 18, 19, 37) received no answer from the Urim and Tummim even though they were halachic high priests.  

…

II Samuel 7:18 states that, “David came and sat before God.” This could mean that David either sat before the Ark of the Covenant in the tent that he had pitched for it in Jerusalem, or that he went to the Sanctuary at Gibeon, but the Talmud, in a number of places, declares that only Davidic kings may sit in the Temple courtyard, and uses this verse as the proof text for this important exception, meaning that David did go to Gibeon, and that the sages assumed that the laws that applied to The Temple courtyard in Jerusalem once accordingly applied to Gibeon. Similarly, just as Maimonides rules (Laws of Murderers and the Preservation of Life):

The altar in the Temple serves as a refuge for [unintentional] killers… if a person kills unintentionally and takes refuge at the altar, and the blood redeemer kills him there, [the blood redeemer] should be executed as if he had killed him in a city of refuge.

it would seem reasonable that both Joab and Adonijah fled to Gibeon, and not the Jerusalem altar, to seek refuge from Solomon, even though they were not priests.

…

A possible challenge: Midrash Tanhuma (Wayaqhel 6) states that the entire Tabernacle was made for the sake of [housing] the Ark!

Indeed, this may be a challenge, but Maimonides already wrote that the initial commandment to build the Tabernacle is the also the eternal commandment to build the Temple: 

It is a positive commandment to build a House for God, ready for sacrifices to be offered within. There, we are to make celebratory pilgrimages three times a year, as it says [Exodus 25:8] states: “And you shall make a sanctuary for Me.”

And the purpose of any sanctuary from a halachic standpoint is sacrifice and pilgrimage. The Midrash, which discusses Bezalel’s seemingly supernatural wisdom, is describing a deeper, esoteric idea. 

Secondly, the Midrash is answering a potential challenge. The sages, as we have seen, said that the Israelites were to keep three commandments when they would settle in the land of Israel, and the building of the Temple is one of them. Why then would God command Israel to construct His house even before they would arrive in the land? Indeed, the sages debated to what extent the service was even conducted in the wilderness Tabernacle (Hagiga 6. See also the commentaries to Amos 5:25). None of the seasonal offerings were ever brought, and it is a matter of Talmudic dispute as to what, if any, of the daily and holiday public offerings, including offerings of mineral, vegetable, and animal origin, were actually brought! According to Maimonides, the Tabernacle was not only temporary, it was never used as a place of pilgrimage and used for very limited sacrifice! Rather, it must be that although the main purpose of the Tabernacle/Sanctuary would only be realized once Israel settled the land, the covenant they entered at Sinai required of them to have a proper place of storage for the tokens of that covenant, the Torah and the Tablets, and that is why the Tabernacle had to at least be built decades before it could be used as completely intended.

…

In Conclusion: An Interesting Symmetry and the Nov Novelty

According to the Talmudic chronology in the last chapter of Z’vahim and quoted by Maimonides:

The Tabernacle was in the wilderness for 39 years (almost exactly, from 1 Nisan until the second week of Nisan 39 years later).

The Tabernacle stood at Gilgal for 14 years.

The Tabernacle stood at Shiloh for 369 years. 

The Tabernacle stood in Nov and Gibeon for 57 years.

We do not have strong traditions regarding the dates of all of these; for example, although the Tabernacle was brought to Gilgal in Nisan, we do not know at what time of year it was then transferred to Shiloh, nor at what times of year Shiloh and Nov were destroyed. However, I propose that because the sages said that Israel began to count toward Sabbatical years after the 14 years of conquest, which ended when the Tabernacle was brought to Shiloh, and that the count traditionally starts on Rosh Hashana, the Tabernacle was therefore officially inaugurated at Shiloh on or about Rosh Hashana, just like the Temple eventually was.  

The First Temple stood for about 410 years, and sat in ruin for 70 years.

These figures are also rounded. The Temple was inaugurated on the 8th of Tishrei, but destroyed on the 9th of Av, while construction on the Second Temple began in Iyar. 

Thus, the total years that the Tabernacle stood and there was an issur bamoth is 369 + 39 = 408, while there were 14 + 57 = 71 years of the Tabernacle’s history that there was a hetter bamoth.

The First Temple stood for 410 incomplete years of issur bamoth, and lay in ruins for 70 years. I have not seen any treatment of this strange, chronological symmetry.

Now, I find it very interesting that the Daat Mikra and other modern-day commentaries struggle to positively identify the location of Nov. Unlike other major Biblical locations, there is still no consensus as to where Nov was. People visit Shiloh everyday, and if Gibeon were not in Area A, it would probably have many visitors. Where is Nov?

Further, I Samuel 21 describes Nov as both the home of the Tabernacle and as a priestly city, yet unlike Gibeon and Anathoth and the rest of the classical priestly cities within the territory of Benjamin, Nov is not on the lists as they appear in Joshua 21:17 and I Chronicles 6:45. When did Nov become a priestly city?

Next, I Samuel 22 describes how the women and children of Nov, the priests’ families, were also massacred. That is, unlike Shiloh and Jerualem, which the on-duty priests visited without bringing their families, who were left behind in their hometowns, Nov was apparently originally a priestly town even before the Tabernacle was brought there. Abiathar was the sole survivor of Nov, yet, when Solomon expelled him from Jerusalem and the priesthood, he commanded him to go back to “his field” in Anathoth. This is strange, because I would have expected Solomon to send Abiathar back to Nov, from which he had fled, and why would a priest own a field in a priestly city? The Levites and priests were given personal possession of the houses within the city, while the limited open areas around the cities were public spaces not owned by anyone!

Lastly, where does the name Nov come from, and what does it mean?

The answer to all of these questions is mentioned in the Zohar: Nov is Anathoth! That is why Gibeon and Anathoth are listed as priestly cities within Benjamin’s territory, but Nov is not, why the priests’ wives and children were also present in Nov, and how Abiathar as the sole survivor of the family that resided in Nov would eventually return to the ancestral fields that he came to possess in Anathoth. This also adds an ominous allusion to Jeremiah’s story (1:1): the prophet of the destruction of Jerusalem and its Sanctuary hailed from a town that had once housed the Sanctuary, and that had been destroyed and had its people massacred just like what would happen to Jerusalem. As we have written before, a prophet from, say, Shiloh, would not have been so ominous, because the destruction of Shiloh was not as tragic, because its holy vessels and treasures did not fall into enemy hands, and its people were evacuated before they could be slaughtered. 

At first I did not like this answer, because, as Prof. Elitzur pointed out to me, there is ample Biblical evidence that Nov was somewhere in the area of what is now Mt. Scopus/Shuafat, while Anatot is considerably farther to the north-west, but then he also pointed out to me that the modern-day settlement of Anatot/Almon which I had in mind is not the Biblical Anathoth. Rather, the Arab neighborhood of Anata is generally identified with Anathoth. 

It seems that the western end of Anata, northeast of where Highway 60 crosses Route 1 (just to the left of the red place marker on the map) is right about where Nov stood. I wonder if any particular place around there has been offered as a possible location for the Tabernacle? Considering that all of the Tabernacle’s components were moved intact to Gibeon, that King Saul had the place destroyed in his anger, and that the Tabernacle was not there for long, there might be very little archeological evidence remaining. I would imagine that Saul would have also ordered that no one ever again refer to the place as Nov. Thus, upon his return to Anathoth/Nov, Abiathar would not have found much of a city, but instead a large city-sized scene of desolation entirely belonging to him and his children, which they would build up anew. 

(Interestingly, the Zohar also rejects this opinion that identifies Nov with Anathoth, arguing that while Nov was a city, Anathoth was just a village. As Yehuda Kyl and others have pointed out, the Bible does refer to both towns as cities, so the Zohar’s rejection is itself denied.)

So why was Anathoth called Nov during Samuel’s time, if when it was first settled it was called Anathoth and then shortly thereafter reverted to Anathoth?

I believe the answer is that when Eli’s surviving family evacuated the Tabernacle from Shiloh to Nov, they had to find a place outside of their original city large enough to accommodate the Tabernacle and its courtyard and its other attendant facilities, and the many expected pilgrims, who, like Doeg himself, would need places to stay overnight after discharging their sacrificial obligations. They would have to put this new Temple-precinct to the west of the city, closer to the ancient highway that also served Shiloh to the north, the aforementioned Route 60 of today, and where the weather was more pleasant and the views prettier (the Judean Desert basically begins just to the east of Anata), and not within the areas designated by Torah law outside of the city for the Levites’ fields and vineyards and for open space, just like the Shiloh Sanctuary was erected outside of the walls of the ancient city. By the sages’ count, for about fourteen years, including the entire tenure of Samuel as Judge, this “New Anathoth” served as our people’s religious nucleus, and its name, like a handful of other words in the Bible (alon, m’cherotheihem, hein, hadar, amor, totafoth, etc.,) is borrowed from the ancient Mediterranean Languages; in Old Latin, as in Classical Latin, “nova” means “new.”

[1] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6lHPQvYX4A

The Discovery of a Hidden Treasure in the Vatican and the Correction of a Centuries-Old Error

Rabbi Edward Reichman, MD

In 2018, I was invited to speak at a conference co-sponsored by the Vatican and the CURA Foundation entitled, Unite to Cure: A Global Health Care Initiative. The mission of the conference was to “convene leading decision makers in medicine, business, media, advocacy and faith to encourage multidisciplinary collaboration, increase investment in research and innovation… education and better access to health care.”[1] My role, as a physician and rabbi, was to represent the Jewish faith in this dialogue and initiative. While “better access to health care” remains a desideratum, access to information in our age is historically unprecedented. The explosion of technology, communication, and social media have put the world’s vast knowledge, both present and past, within finger’s reach. The present contribution, detailing a fortuitous discovery at the Vatican, recalls an earlier period in Jewish history when access to sacred texts was generally limited. The advent of printing would portend an exponential increase in availability of Jewish books, but a controversy arose in its wake which ironically led to even greater inaccessibility of one of Judaism’s most fundamental texts.

No visit to the Vatican would be complete without a visit to its storied library. In anticipation of my trip, I contacted the Vatican Library to secure a reader’s pass.[2] I then scoured the catalogue and consulted colleagues for items of Jewish medical and general Jewish interest.

While I would only have a brief time to spend in the library I focused my list mostly on medically related works, both in manuscript and printed form. One of the works I included is not typically thought of as such. It is an incunable which was the answer to one of Professor Marc Shapiro’s Seforim Blog quiz questions- what was the first Hebrew book published in the lifetime of its author? The answer is Nofet Tzufim (Abraham Conat: Mantua, 1475) by Judah Messer Leon.[3]

Judah Messer Leon was an extraordinary physician, professor, and Torah scholar. He was granted the title of Count Palatine by the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick III[4] which allowed him to confer doctorates upon other Jews of proven worthiness. Nofet Tzufim is a treatise on rhetoric, utilizing the classical literary devices of the ancient discipline of rhetoric applied to the Torah. One of the uses for this work was to prepare the Jewish students who matriculated from foreign countries to the medical schools in Italy. Indeed, he organized a yeshiva where students could receive a comprehensive Jewish education while training in the secular disciplines necessary for higher studies in the humanities, philosophy, and medicine.[5]

In my pre-visit research of the library catalogue, I noticed the record of a two-volume Mishneh Torah (Giustiniani: Venice, 1550-1551).[6] Being familiar with the controversy surrounding this work, I put it on my list despite its non-medical nature. I took a snapshot of the entry and placed it in my files.

Upon my arrival at the library, I was introduced to the protocols. I found it somewhat ironic that while the manuscripts were requested through a modern digital system, the printed works, housed in a different section, were requested by hand-written paper slip. When I submitted my requests to the librarian, I half expected her to respond, “and by the way, no, we do not have the Menorah.”[7]

The final item I requested was the Giustiniani Rambam. A short while after I submitted my slip, I noticed two massive unidentifiable tomes resting one atop the other on the front desk. It did not initially occur to me that these would be my requested items. I ultimately approached the desk and inquired if my items had arrived, only to be directed to these two plain, unadorned (with neither print nor illustration), nondescript, off white, cloth-covered folios. The covers are shown below:

The two volumes were virtually indistinguishable. As I opened the top volume, I observed the following printer’s mark on the title page.

This is the characteristic printer’s mark of Giustiniani, as expected, consisting of a picture of the Temple in Jerusalem (though more reminiscent of the Dome of the Rock). This was volume two of the Mishneh Torah.[8]

However, when I carefully cracked (almost literally) open the binding of the bottom volume, I noticed something unexpected:

The printer’s mark did not reveal a depiction of the Temple, rather it was comprised of three crowns, the distinct mark of another printing house. At this point, a brief review of the controversy surrounding the Giustiniani Rambam is in order.

Rabbi Meir ben Isaac Katzenellenbogen (1482-1565), known as Maharam Padua, produced a new edition of Rambam’s Mishneh Torah, including his own notes, and providing some of Rambam’s Talmudic references. As Jews were generally prohibited from publishing books at this time, he initially approached a veteran non-Jewish printer of Hebrew books, Marco Antonio Giustiniani. For unknown reasons, this arrangement did not work, and R. Katzenellenbogen instead published his work with Alfonse Bragadini, a novice printer for whom this would be his first publication. Very shortly thereafter, within the year, Giustiniani published a similar edition of the Mishneh Torah, including the notes of R. Katzenellenbogen, though with some alterations and with accompanying criticism, without the latter’s consent. He proposed to charge one gold coin less for purchase, clearly intending to sabotage Bragadini’s newly minted press. Fearing the loss of his significant financial investment, R. Katzenellenbogen approached the then-young R. Moshe Isserles (Rama) to adjudicate what would be one of the first cases in rabbinic literature of copyright infringement.[9]

Rama ruled in favor of R. Katzenellenbogen / Bragadini, but having no recourse in the secular courts, placed a cherem (excommunication) on any Jew who purchased books from Giustiniani until the print run of R. Katzenellenbogen had been sold. Giustiniani reacted fiercely, appealing to the Catholic Church and casting aspersions of blasphemy on the work. The Vatican expanded its inquiry launching a frontal attack on the work of R. Katzenellenbogen and other rabbinic texts as containing objectionable/heretical material. The attack soon included the Talmud and ultimately culminated in the decree to burn all extant copies of the Talmud and related works in 1553 in Campo di Fiori Square, just a few blocks from the Vatican.[10] Other cities in Italy soon followed suit and virtually all the copies the Talmud in Italy in both manuscript and print, as well as related works, including some editions of Rambam,[11] went up in flames.

The printer’s mark bearing the three crowns I observed on the title page of this work is none other than that of the Bragadini Publishing House. Upon further inspection, it became clear that I was looking at the original Bragadini edition of the Rambam Mishneh Torah, volume one, with the notes of the Maharam of Padua, from which the Giustiniani edition was copied. The Vatican library did not list a Bragadini edition of Rambam in its catalogue and was unaware of its existence. The Bragadini is volume one of the Mishneh Torah, and the Giustiniani edition is volume two. By external visual inspection the volumes look virtually identical in size and appearance with similar bland covers, worn and worm-eaten to the same degree. It is quite possible that the librarian who received these volumes some centuries ago opened only the second of two volumes, entering the information accordingly for the two-volume work, and simply never bothered to open the other volume. This theory is possibly corroborated by the fact that pencil markings with the catalogue number of the Vatican Library appear only in the second (Giustiniani) volume (in the upper left hand corner) and not in the first (Bragadini).

Once I realized the cataloguing error, I immediately notified the librarian of this oversight, though she was of course unfamiliar with the historical significance of these volumes, and I was assured that the catalog would be corrected accordingly.

Upon my return home, in April 2018, I followed with an e-mail to the Vatican Library including additional references and a fuller discussion of the historical significance of the different editions. Shortly thereafter, I had the opportunity to visit the private medical historical library and collection of the late, world-renowned neurosurgeon, Dr. James Goodrich, known for his expertise in separating craniopagus conjoined twins (sharing or connected by the brain). I shared the details of my recent Vatican Library visit, to which he responded with his own slightly more dramatic experience at the same library. While inspecting a Medieval anatomy text, he noticed one of the famous illustrations was missing from the volume. He immediately notified the librarian. Within a few moments, he was surrounded by police, hands in the air, being threatened with arrest, himself accused of the theft.

Every few months I would check to see if the catalogue entry had been corrected. Sometime in late 2019 or early 2020, I gave up hope of any correction and did not check further. In November 2021, in preparing topics for an upcoming cruise to Northern Italy on Italian Jewish medical history, I was reminded of the Vatican Library visit and searched the catalogue for the Bragadini Rambam. To my pleasant surprise, the catalogue had been corrected to reflect the two editions, and the entries for both volumes of Rambam had been updated and expanded.

New Entry for the Bragadini Rambam

New Entry for the Giustiniani Rambam

How these two volumes of one set from different printers originally came together remains a mystery, but this “mixed” set of Rambam appears to have been owned by both Jews and non-Jews from at least the 17^th century and possibly earlier. Previous ownership of the set by both institutions and individuals, Jews and non-Jews, is reflected by a number of similar inscriptions in the respective volumes.

Both volumes contain the imprint of the library of the Church Santa Pudenziana in Rome:

Volume 1

Volume 2

Both bear the inscription of D. Julius a S. Anast[asi]a with the added information that he purchased (emit) them in 1652.

Volume 1

Volume 2

That a set of Rambam would be owned by non-Jews, be it private or institutional, is not remarkable given the history of Christian Hebraism.[12] Julius de St. Anastasia was a pseudonym for Giulio Bartolocci (1613-1687),[13] an Italian Cistercian Monk and Hebrew scholar who authored a four-volume work on rabbinic literature, Bibliotheca Magna Rabbinica.[14] It was just a year before this purchase date, 1651, that he was appointed professor of Hebrew and Rabbinics at the Collegium Neophytorum in Rome and “Scriptor Hebraicus” at the Vatican Library. He may have purchased the volumes in 1652 either for his private collection or for the Vatican Library. In either case, it is likely that these volumes have been either in his possession or the Vatican Library’s since 1652. The residence of the Rambam volumes in the Biblioteca Santa Pudenziana thus likely precedes this period. Perhaps Bartolocci acquired the works from this library. This helps date another signature that appears on both title pages, one that escapes mention in the Vatican catalogue entry.

Volume 1

Volume 2

In the first I can clearly see the words שלי יצחק, which follow a decorative flourish, though cannot decipher the last name. In the second, I can see remnants of the words שלי יצחק, and the second name is missing entirely. At minimum, this establishes ownership by a man whose first name is Yitzhak sometime before the early to mid-seventeenth century. Who Yitzchak was, and when in the period between the publication of the volumes (1550) and their acquisition by the Biblioteca Santa Pudenziana he took possession, is unknown, though it is intriguing to contemplate. It is almost certain that he was the earliest of the known owners. It is unlikely that Yitzhak would have acquired a set of Rambam from representatives of the Catholic Church, though one can imagine how the Church acquired the works, be it directly or not, sometime after the events of 1553.

Let us consider the possibility that it was Yitzhak who first acquired the mixed set of Rambam during their time of publication. How would this have come about? Why did he not simply purchase both volumes of the Bragadini Rambam? Were both volumes issued together, or was volume two released later? The publication of the two volumes of the Giustiniani Rambam was separated by at least a number of months, with volume one appearing in 1550 and volume two released January 25, 1551.[15] Furthermore, what of the ban implemented by Rama? Would this not have prevented him from buying the Giustiniani Rambam altogether? When was the ban issued and when would he have even heard of it? Lastly, and most importantly, were these volumes not included in the decree to burn Jewish literature. How could they have survived?

In answer to this final question, copies of Rambam’s Mishneh Torah were confiscated and burned, though not as systematically as was the Talmud.[16] Rama’s ban would have had no impact whatsoever on Yitzhak’s purchasing preferences, as Rama explicitly limited his decree to “our country” (i.e., Poland). It is not known whether Italian rabbis adopted a similar stance for their communities.

Furthermore, these very volumes reflect the impact of the feud of their publishers, and of the subsequent burning and imposed censorship. According to the Vatican Library catalogue, they were censored by Lorenzo Franguello in 1575 and again in 1599 by Luigi Da Bologna.[17] Whether it was Yitzchak who presented the work to the censors we may never know.

The impact of the burning of the Talmud on Jewish literature in general has been treated elsewhere, but as my interests lie in Jewish medical history, I conclude by sharing its effect on one of the more prominent figures in Jewish medical history, Abraham Portaleone (d. 1612).[18] Portaleone, descendant of a long line of prominent physicians, and himself physician to dukes and princes, developed a stroke in his sixties leaving him partially paralyzed on one side of his body. His illness sparked reflection that led him to the conclusion that he had not devoted enough of his life to Torah study. To rectify this deficiency, he set out to compose a comprehensive work on prayer and the Temple service, Shiltei haGibborim, which he dedicated to his children. It is an encyclopedia of Renaissance knowledge, including extensive discussions on the composition of the Temple incense, drawing on contemporary botanical studies, as well as unprecedented research into the instruments and music of the Levites accompanying the Temple service.[19]

In his introduction, Portaleone details the nature of his early education, and recalls how while a student studying Talmud with R. Yaakov MiPano, the infamous decree led to the Talmud “being consumed by fire before our eyes.”[20] After the initial burning of the Talmud in Rome, other Italian cities followed suit with their own citywide burnings of the Talmud. Portaleone was witness to one such event. Decades later, as he penned his classic work, Shiltei haGibborim, the Talmud still remained unavailable in Italy. Portaleone was forced to use substitute works that alluded to or quoted the Talmud, if available, but sometimes the information was simply not accessible. For example, in his discussion of the Lechem Hapanim (shewbread) of the Temple, he writes, “Perhaps some place in the Talmud Hazal spoke of this, and I am not aware. As a result of the known decree [preventing access to the Talmud] I have not been able to properly ascertain this.”[21]

In one remarkable instance Portaleone reveals his elation at being able to acquire a bona fide Talmudic reference. He writes that after he completed the chapter on the Lishkat haGazit (Chamber of Hewn Stone), God ordained (“hikra”) that he happen upon a wise man from the city of Tzfat (where the Talmud was available) who had come to Italy to seek financial support for his family. “From his mouth I heard the sugya in the second chapter of Yoma on the laws of the Lishkat haGazit, and I write them here for you (my children) from his mouth…”[22]

In yet another place he excitedly relates of his accessing a small passage from Tractate Chagigah from a tattered manuscript remnant in the library of a great Torah scholar (Gaon) of Verona.[23]

These few, yet remarkable, instances reveal how the absence of access to the Talmud in Italy impacted the life and work of one of Jewish medical history’s most famous personalities.

While our ancestors yearned for access to even one miniscule fragment of the Talmud, we have unfettered access to virtually the totality of rabbinic literature literally at our fingertips, from a device likely smaller in size than the one fragment of Talmud Abraham Portaleone was so overjoyed to discover.

Conclusion

It is incredible to think that for hundreds of years, unbeknownst to the Vatican library, Bragadini has been hiding in plain sight under the cover of his arch nemesis and fierce competitor Giustiniani. Their feud led to one of the greatest tragedies in Jewish history, instigated by the very institution wherein they now lie. Giustinani’s press ceased production in 1552, shortly after and possibly related to his attack on Bragadini, while the Bragadini press, and the three crowns, continued for generations.[24] At long last Giustiniani’s reach from the grave to still overshadow Bragadini has been foiled and a centuries-long error has been rectified.

It is perhaps noteworthy that this discovery occurred while I was a presenter at a Vatican conference. As for the conference itself, the medical issues addressed (including stem cell research, CRISPR gene editing and longevity research) and their halakhic ramifications merit discussion in a different blog. However, let us pause and appreciate how far we have come with respect to religious tolerance.[25] Suffice it to say, had I lived in the times of Bragadini and Giustiniani, I would likely not have been invited to a conference at the Vatican.