Names of Seforim I

The names utilized for Seforim are rather unique. As opposed to most cultures who title their books based upon their content (think Da Vinci Code about a code Da Vinci did), Jewish book titles, for the most part, have no relationship to their content. Additionally, for many, the title of the books supersedes that of the actual author to such an extent that many authors are only known by their book titles. So while many are aware of the Shach and the Taz (shortened forms of the titles Siftei Kohen and Turei Zahav commentaries on the Shulhan Orakh most are not aware who actually wrote these works. Instead, one would say “(the) Shach says” etc. Now if we were to return the above titles, Siftei Kohen – the Lips of the Priest and the Turei Zahav the Pillars of Gold, from first glance one would assume the former is about Priests while the latter is about either metallurgy or perhaps some Indiana Jones like pillars.

Some have been critical of the use of such obscure titles for Jewish books. Isaac D’Israeli the father of Statesman Benjamin (Isaac was the one to remove himself and his family Benjamin included and convert them to Christianity after Isaac was angered over his synagogues dues) was highly critical of such titles, in his Curiosities of Literature he writes:

The Jewish and many oriental authors were fond of allegorical titles, which always indicate the most puerile age of taste. The titles were usually adapted to their obscure works. It might exercise an able enigmatist to explain their allusions; for we must understand by The Heart of Aaron,” that it is a commentary on several of the prophets. “The Bones of Joseph is an introduction to the Talmud. The Garden of Nuts, and The Golden Apples,” are theological questions, and The Pomegranate with its Flower,” is a treatise of ceremonies, not any more practised. Jortin gives a title, which he says of all the fantastical titles he can recollect, is one of the prettiest. A rabbin published a catalogue of rabbinical writers, and called it Labia Dormientium, from Cantic. vii. 9. Like the best wine of my beloved that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak. It hath a double meaning, of which he was not aware, for most of his rabbinical brethren talk very much like men in their sleep. Almost all their works bear such titles as bread,— gold, —silver, —roses, —eyes,— &c., in a word, anything that signifies nothing.

Isaac Reggio (perhaps it is the Isaacs) was equally critical, in his introduction to Delmigido’s Behinat HaDa’at. “Amongst the incorrect customs which has been exacerbated over time . . . when authors title their books with titles that do not speak to content, or at best they use titles which only hint to the books content which can only be decoded after reading the introduction . . . there are those who use titles which contain the authors name.” Reggio then proceeds to list some of thcategories those catagories. “There are those who use titles from the vessels in the Temple ארון עדות,מזבח הזהב, מנורת המאור, שלחן ארבע, זר זהב, קערת כסף or some use the clothing of the priest for titles שרשות גבלות, המצנפת, מעשה אפוד, משן אהרן, כליל תכלת,” and the list goes on.
Reggio mentions two catagories of interest, one the author placing his name (or hinting to it) and the other hinting to the content via an obscure title. As to the second there was such a book reviewed by the Jewish Chronicle (London)

Very wittily is the pun-title, City of Sihon (Heb: Ir Sichon), for a mathematical book by R. Joseph Zorphathi, alluding to Numb. xxi 27, “For Hesbon (reckonin [caculating]) is the City of Sihon.”

Jewish Chronicle (London), June 21, 1889, page 15

There are also similarly titled or pun titled books which are hinting at the name of the author. For instance authors whose name was Avrhom utilize puns on various verses relating to Avrohom. So we have the books Pesach haOhel (1691) which is referencing that Gen. 18:1; Yukach Na (1881); Sa’du Lebchem (1881) both referencing Gen. 18:4-5.
Then we have books which are not as creative and just use the persons name in the title. Perhaps the person to go wild with this theme was R. Hayyim Palaggi. Who wrote over 25 seforim and almost all carry the name Hayyim in the title. So we have Otzrot haHayyim, Genzi Hayyim, Darki Hayyim, U’Baharta B’Hayyim, Zechirah L’Hayyim, Huke’ Hayyim, Hayyim b’Yad, Hayyim V’Shalom etc. (you get the picture).
Asided from these we have other books which make reference to something that happened in the authors life, generally unrelated to content of the book. So we have Homat Aish (1799) a commentary on the Ibn Ezra’s song Tzama Nafshe which was written soon after the author lost his house and all to a fire. He decided to write this in the hope it would prevent a future fire. Or we have the various books written by blind people, Eynai Avrohom and the like which generally reference eyes or sight.
Aside from these curiosities, there is still the final one of substituting the authors name for that of his book. Menachem has a rather interesting story related to this practice here.

Perhaps the reason for this practice can be gleaned from the following story was told. There was a city which was filled with less than learned or interested people who were in need of a rabbi. However, when each candidate would come through they would be turned off by the populace. The town decided to do something about this and had commisioned tombstones with famous personages such as the Shach, Taz, Rama etc. and placed them in the graveyard. With the next candidate they made sure to tour the cemetary. Needless to say, although the rabbi had some misgivings he decided to take the job figuring if the Shach etc. were here it couldn’t be all that bad. After he accepted one of the townspeople took him aside and told him the truth immediately the Rabbi complained saying he was tricked. However, the town board explained he was not. As in the various cities where the Shach, Taz etc are actually buried they study their works and the Talmud says that when one studies the works their lips move – they are still alive. In this town, however, no one studies any of their wotrulyd they are truely dead here. Perhaps the idea that the Torah of the person is the most important thing and the authors derive life from that caused some to substitute their works.
Sources: Zlotkin, Shemot haSeforim and entire work devoted to the names of books; Y. S. Spiegel, Amudim b’Toldot HaSefer Haiviri, Ketiva v’Hataka, 384-428 discussing the use of the authors name in the title (Spiegel’s two volumes of Amudim are excellent and are a must read for anyone interested in the history of Seforim); for a list of books about various events, famine, jailing, blind people etc. see A. Yaari, Mekeri Sefer. [Thanks Menachem for the Jewish Chronicle (London) citation.]




Tevie Kagan: The Enigmatic R. David Lida

The Enigmatic R. David Lida
by Tevie Kagan
Tevie Kagan works in the Seforim industry.  This is his first post for the TraditionOnline Seforim blog.
Part I: R. David of Lida and Plagiarism
R. David ben Aryeh Leib of Lida (c.1650-1696) is a fascinating and enigmatic figure. He was the rabbi of multiple communities over the course of his lifetime including Lida, Ostrog, Mainz, and the Ashkenazic community in Amsterdam. He was forced to leave Amsterdam under a cloud of alleged plagiarism and possible Sabbatean beliefs; though he was acquitted of these charges by the council of the four lands (Va’ad Arba Ha-Aratzot), he never recovered from the various accusations. He is not a well-known individual today, yet many of his works survive and are still available in print. This post (the first of two) will present a detailed account of his life and will attempt to see if both the accusations of plagiarism and heretical beliefs have merit.
R. (David) Lida was born in Zwollen, Lithuania into a prominent rabbinical family. His uncle was R. Moshe Rivkes, author of the Be’er Ha-Golah. Other family members that Lida cites within his works include R. Yeshaya Horowitz, author of the Shnei Luchos Habris (Shelah), R. Yosef of Pozna, R. Naftali Hertz of Lemberg, and R. Yaakov Cohen of Frankfurt. He was married to Miriam the daughter of R. Wolf Yuspef of Lvov (Lemberg) and had two sons, Nathan and Pesachya, and two daughters. One of the daughters was married to R. Yerucham b. Menachem, who helped prepare Shomer Shabbos (one of Lida’s early works) for printing, and the other was married to R. Abraham b. Aaron, who helped with the printing of Shomer Shabbos in Amsterdam. In his work Ir David, Lida testifies[1] that his primary teacher was R. Joshua Hoeschel b. Jacob of Cracow (c.1595-1663), who was one of preeminent rabbis of the time.[2]
From 1671 until 1677, R. David was rabbi in Lida. He then served as a rabbi in Ostrog and Mainz, replacing R. Samuel David b Chanoch of Lublin, the author of Divrei Shmuel who had passed away. In 1681, Lida left Mainz and became a rabbi in Amsterdam. After being forced out of Amsterdam, Lida appealed to the council of the four lands. By doing so he succeeded in getting himself reinstated in Amsterdam. However, his position was untenable, so he reached a financial agreement and moved to Lvov, where he lived until his death in 1696.[3]

The following is a list of Lida’s works (with the topic covered in parentheses):
¨ Beer Esek – Frankfurt on the Oder/Lublin, 1684 (apologetic)
¨ Beer Mayim Chaim- lost, never printed (on Code of law)
¨ Chalkei Avanim– Fuerth, 1693 (on Rashi’s commentary on bible) reprinted in Yad Kol Bo under the title Migdol Dovid
¨ Divrei David– Lublin, 1671 (ethics)
¨ Dovev Sifsei Yesheinim- lost, never printed (mishnah)
¨ Ir David– Amsterdam, 1683 (incomplete), 1719 (complete) (Homiletics)
¨ Ir Miklat – Dyhernfurth, 1690 (613 commandments)
¨ Migdol David –Amsterdam,1680 (Ruth)
¨ Pitschei She’arim – Pirush Tefilos- partially printed in Yad Kol Bo (prayer)
¨ Shalsheles Zahav
¨ Shir Hillulim– Amsterdam, 1680 (poem in honor of dedication of a new Torah)
¨ Shomer Shabbos – Amsterdam, 1687 printed with Tikkunei Shabbos, reprinted in Yad Kol Bo, and reprinted separately in Zolkolov, 1804 (laws of Sabbath)
¨ Sod Hashem Sharbit Hazahav– Amsterdam, 1680 (on circumcision)
¨ Tapuchei Zahav kitzur reishis chochma – Fuerth, 1693
¨ Yad Kol Bo- Amsterdam/Frankfurt on the Oder, 1727(Collection)
While in Amsterdam (about 1694), Lida was accused of libel, plagiarism and Sabbatean leanings. Since many of the documents surrounding both controversies no longer exist, we can only attempt to recreate what happened.
Lida is Accused of Libel

R. Yaakov Sasportas (c.1610-1698) has a series of responsa[4] that refer to the libel case. One of the prominent members of the Sephardic congregation, R. Nissan ben Judah Leib, the brother in law of R. Isaac Benjamin Wolf ben Eliezer Ashkenazi (Chief Rabbi in Berlin and the author of the Nachlas Binyomin (Amsterdam, 1682)), claimed that on a trip to Wessel R. Nissan had found defamatory letters about himself and R. Isaac Benjamin Wolf, which R. Nissan alleged were written by Lida. Lida denied having written these letters. R. Nissan submitted copies of the letters to the Sephardic court, presided over by R Yitzchak Abuhav, R Yaakov Sasportas and R Shmuel Deozida. The court requested the original letters, and when they could not be produced, the court decreed that Lida did not write the letters and that he was an upstanding rabbi of the community. The court also demanded that R. Nissan apologize, which he did. Subsequently the Sephardic court sent a letter to both R Wolf Lippman and the Council of the Four Lands requesting they revoke all bans against Lida and to forgive both themselves and Lida. This letter included the signatures of many prominent rabbis of the time, though many of these rabbis may have been influenced by Lida’s famous brother-in-law, Yitzchak b. Abraham of Posnan, who was the first signature on the list.
Additionally, Lida himself wrote a work entitled Beer Esek,[5] in which he attempts to clear his name.The work begins with an introductory homily, after which Lida then proceeds to defend himself from the charges of plagiarism. Lida’s letter ends off with letters and signatures of approbation..
Charges of Plagiarism

Charges of plagiarism hounded Lida regarding many of his works. The first work that this charge was leveled at was Divrei David (Lublin, 1671), an ethical treatise broken up into seven parts, corresponding to the days of the week. On the title page of this work, Lida states that it is culled from the words of Rishonim upon which he added his own additions. The bibliographer, Joseph Zedner (1804-71), in his Catalogue of the Hebrew Books in the Library of the British Museum (London, 1867), was the first to note that the text of the Divrei David is identical to a part of the text of the Sefer Yirah published by Aryeh Judah Loeb ben Aryeh Priluck.
The work itself contains information that is inconsistent with Lida’s biography. For example, the author talks about trips to Israel (nos. 6, 77, and 85), serving as rabbi in Israel (no. 46), and refers to a work that he wrote called Zer Zahav on the Bible (no.72). At the time Divrei David was published Lida was 21 and, as far as we know, never visited Israel, as he never mentions it anywhere else in any of his works. Even more puzzling is that he never authored a work on the Bible called Zer Zahav! Interestingly, Gershom Scholem argues that whoever the author of Divrei David was the author had Sabbatean leanings as there is a possible Shabbati Zevi reference in the beginning of the section on Shabbos.[6] Was this work stolen from a previous work? It would appear so; but, in defense of Lida, he admits that he culled his work from other sources. Nevertheless, this would not account for his borrowing of accounts of positions, travels or works written.
The Sefer Yirah was first published from manuscript in 1724 (Lida had published Divrei David in 1671). The publisher of the Sefer Yirah, Priluck, clearly states on the title page that he found a manuscript and had no idea as to whom was its author. Priluck adds statements and revises the original work where he saw fit. One example is in the “morning half” of the “first day,” where he adds (in the fifth section) that he already printed a prayer book which was grammatically correct. Most of the other additions are merely clarifications of the earlier work [for example, in the “night section” of the first day he clarifies that the Shema referred to is the one said in bed before sleep (Kriat Shema al Ha’Mita)]. Within the section of the fourth day Lida mentions (part 77) that he was in Jerusalem, and he concludes that one should cover their head with a hat when saying grace (birkat ha’mazon); yet this last item is not found in the Priluck version of Sefer Yirah. In total, there are about twenty slight differences, but most are stylistic, with Priluck changing particular words and verses. The Sefer Yirah concludes with a statement that this is where the manuscript ends and that he does not want to add from other sources. The Warsaw edition of 1873 of the Divrei David adds an entire section of good traits (minhagim tovim). Interestingly the most recent reprinting (Brooklyn, 2006 by R. N.M., German) adds 2 more pages of character traits not found in the Warsaw edition. This would not be the only work that would come under suspicion that Lida wrote.
Lida’s most famous work that is under the suspicion of plagiarism is his Migdol David, published in 1680 while Lida was still rabbi in Mainz. The work was published with 17 approbations (haskamot). While some of the approbations do not mention the work Migdol David specifically, by reading them one gets the idea that many felt it was an original work. In his Beer Esek, Lida alludes to R. Nisan’s claim that accused Lida of stealing the work (R. Nisan did so by saying that Lida “wears the talis of another”). Many believe that this work was really a copy of R. Hayim Ben Abraham Ha-Kohen’s (c.1585-1655) [7]Toras Chessed. For instance, R. Hayyim Yosef David Azulai, ,writes “truthfully [Migdol David] is the work of R. Hayim Kohen, author of the Tur Barekes…” (Shem ha-Gedolim, Marekhet Seforim, s.v. Migdol David). ,Azulai also cites the Yaavetz (R. Yaakov Emden) and his charge in Toras Hakanaos (see below). The Menachem Tziyon attempts to clear Lida’s name by showing that many great rabbis attested to his kabalistic knowledge, but ultimately he too leans towards the plagiarism charge. [8]

The Yaavetz, in his Toras Hakanaos, lists a group of works that he charged with having Sabbatean leanings and allusions. He includes Lida’s work, not as a potential Sabbatean work,[9] but rather as a plagiarized one, and, more specifically, to support his claim that Lida’s character was suspect, and even possibly Sabbatean. Sabbateans were known to have “double natures,” one being outwardly righteous, while the inner being corrupt and immoral (more about this to come in part 2 of this post, R. David of Lida and Sabbatianism). The Yaavetz shows that Lida took the work but left an allusion to Hayim Kohen’s name in the introduction, which states, “ממקור מיים בריכה העליונה כה”נא רב”א” Lida’s choice of words is suspect, as Lida was neither a Kohen nor named Hayim.
More recently, Marvin Heller[10] has argued that a parable in the introduction to Lida’s work alludes to the fact that it is not an original work. The allegory (from the Zohar) regards a rooster who finds a pearl while searching for food. Startled by the pearl’s beauty, the rooster recoils and wonders what caused the pearl to be hidden. A man, seeing the rooster recoil, stops to see what caused the reaction; when he sees the pearl, he proceeds to give it to the king. As a result, the king honors the rooster. Lida writes: “So to I found in this scroll blossoms and fruit which give forth a brightness, delightful to the sight and desirable to the eye, ‘its fruit is good for food’ (Genesis 2:9)…when this distinguished book comes to the hand of one who appreciates its value … and also who publishes it will be remembered for good before the King, King of the universe” (emphasis added). This choice of language seems to be referring to a publisher not an author. In Lida’s Ir Miklat, in the glosses where Lida mentions “my book Migdol David,”[11] Azulai (in his comments) interjects: “He printed it.” Eisner seeks to defend Lida, even though he had never seen a copy of the rare Migdol David. Eisner argues that since all the charges were found to be groundless in the first case against Lida, so too the plagiarism charges must be false. He attempts to buttress this by showing that Lida had a reputation for being a Kabbalist. In 1681, the notorious anti-Semite Johann Andreas Eisenmenger (ca.1654-1704) visited Amsterdam and wrote about meeting Lida in his Entdecktes Judentum (Frankfurt am Main, 1700). He speaks of Lida and how he was a great scholar and Kabbalist. Interestingly, towards the end of the introduction of Ir David, Lida states that he hopes that this work will be printed without the mistakes and errors that the printers added to his work Migdol David, which he was unable to fix. Is Lida attempting to lay the groundwork for the argument that any troubling pieces within Migdol David are not his, but rather the work of the printers?
Slightly more telling about both of the works that are suspected of being stolen is that Lida references them in his other works very infrequently. In contrast, Ir David is referenced quite frequently within his other writings. When themes or interpretations are referenced in Chalkei Avanim that are supposedly printed in Lida’s other works (specifically Migdol David) he does not give the work’s name, but just the statement “and it is understood.”[12]

Even after his death Lida’s works have encountered problems. His son Pesachya printed a collected volume of his works entitled Yad Kol Bo (Amsterdam 1727) in which was included a work on Psalms called Assarah Hillulim. According to Brill, this was actually written by the Calvinist-Hebraist, Heinrich Jacob van Bashuysen (1679-1750) and published in Sefer Tehilim im Pirush ha-Katzar, Hanau, 1712.[13]
[1] Ir David, First Sermon
[2] See Dembitzer Kelilas Yofi Krakow:1893 pg59a-59b
[3] For the date of Lida’s death, see Solomon Buber, Anshei Shem (Krakow, 1895), where he recreates the correct date based on approbations Lida had given, which are marked after the date on his tombstone.
[4] Ohel Yaakov 75-76
[5] Reprinted in Abraham Eisner, Toledot Hagaon R. David Lida (Breslau,1938) and in Aaron Freimann, Sefer Hayovel for Nahum Sokolow (Warsaw, 1904)
[6] See Warsaw edition that actually puts Lida as author and includes that he wrote Zer Zahav and Bris Yitzchok, which Lida did not.
[7] See Encyclopedia Judaica entry where Scholem states that Lidas plagiarism was well known in Kabalistic circles before H.J.D. Azulai made it public. Scholem offers no source or examples for this statement. Also interesting to note is that whatever Azulai’s thoughts on Lida’s character may have been, he still wrote glosses to Lida’s work Ir Miklat.
[8] See also Ohr Hayim (Hayim Michael), where he unequivocally states that it is a stolen work from R. Hayim Kohen.
[9] Yehuda Liebes, in “Sefer Tzadik Yesod Olam- Mythos Shabetai” (reprinted in On Sabbateanism and its Kabbalah: Collected Essays (Jerusalem, 1995), pg. 303-304, note 22) shows that even Migdol David is not free of possible Sabbatean leanings. These could not have come from R Hayim Kohen as he died before Sabbateanism grew to the movement that it later became.
[10] Marvin J. Heller, David Ben Aryeh Leib of Lida and his Migdol David: Accusations of Plagiarism in Eighteenth Century Amsterdam, Shofar (Jan. 1, 2001) (translation of text is his).
[11] Commandment 190
[12] For examples see Brooklyn edition 2006-pg. 5, fn 1; pg. 8, fn 8.
[13] For more on Bashuysen, see Encyclopaedia Judaica under his name entry. Eisner strongly disagrees and says that it clearly is not a Christian work, and that it includes many ideas from Lidas other works.




Rabbi Steinman and the Messiah, part 3

 Rabbi Steinman and the Messiah, part 3

Marc B. Shapiro

Continued from here

1. In the last post I wrote: “R. Hayyim Soloveitchik is reported to have said that if the messianic era will bring even one Jewish death, then he doesn’t want it, and if we had a choice in the matter the halakhah would require us to reject the Messiah in such a circumstance.” A perspective quite different than that of R. Hayyim was offered by R. Menahem Mendel of Rimanov. He thought that it would be good if Jews, even many Jews, were killed during Napoleon’s war against Russia, as he believed that this loss of life would bring the redemption.[1]

ואמר כי לדעתו טוב שישפכו דם ישראל ומפריסטיק עד רימנוב ילכו עד ארכבותיהם בדם ישראל כדי שיהי’ הקץ לגאולתנו

R. Moshe Sternbuch has an interesting passage, the upshot of which is that we shouldn’t be so anxious for the Messiah to come, as from at least one perspective, namely, the reward given those who observe the Torah in the pre-messianic era, it is better for us without the Messiah.[2]

וקבלה שמעתי שכמה צדיקים וקדושי עליון לפני פטירתם אמרו כשיעלו למרום לא ינוחו אלא יתחננו ויפצירו שמשיח יבוא ונזכה כבר לגאולה, ובאו אח”כ לתלמידיהם בחלום וגילו שבעולם האמת רואים את הכל אחרת, כשרואים את השכר הגדול הגנוז לעולמים למי ששומר אמונים כראוי לתורה ומצוות בסוף הגלות בזמן הסתר תוך הסתר, אינו [!] מפציר כ”כ לביאת המשיח שאז לא יהא כבר נסיונות ושכר רב, וכ”ש בני תורה בזמנינו שהם כצבא ה’, שכר כפול ומכופל

There are a few more things about the Messiah that I could not include in the last post. I mentioned reasons why rabbinic leaders offered dates for the Messiah’s arrival even though the Talmud, Sanhedrin 97b, states: “Blasted be the bones of those who calculate the end (i.e., the Messiah’s arrival).” I neglected to quote the even stronger passage in Derekh Eretz Rabbah, ch. 11:

רבי יוסי אומר הנותן את הקץ אין לו חלק לעולם הבא

An interesting perspective is suggested by R. Isaac Abarbanel who claims that the opposition to calculating the date of the Messiah was only directed against those who do it by astrological means. However, the talmudic sages did not oppose those who calculate the end by using biblical texts. He also adds that this lack of opposition is only when those who offer predictions are clear that their predictions are not absolute.[3]

I mentioned the concept of Messiah ben Joseph. It is worth noting that Samuel Feigenzohn argues that any passage in rabbinic literature that mentions Messiah ben Joseph, such as Sukkah 52a-b, is a heretical insertion by the early Christians and refers to Jesus (son of Joseph)![4]

Regarding R. Akiva and Bar Kokhba, it is significant that R. Jonathan Eybeschuetz writes that R. Akiva declared Bar Kokhba the Messiah, not because he really believed this – although presumably he had hope that it might be the case – but in order to give strength to the Jewish people, so that they not despair in the face of all their difficulties. In doing so, R. Akiva was following in the path of earlier sages and even prophets who also proclaimed that the Redemption was near even though they did not believe this, or at least were not certain of this. R. Eybeschuetz even sees the rabbinic obligation to observe certain agricultural laws in parts of the Diaspora as part of this plan to keep Jews believing in the soon-to-come Redemption.[5]

ואמר במדרש [איכה פ”א נד] קראתי למאהבי המה רמוני, הם נביאים שתקנו תרומה וחלה בבבל, וכי חייב חוץ לארץ בתרומה, אלא שרמוני. והקשה היפה ענף, ודאי שאמרו להם כי מהתורה פטור רק הם תקנוהו, כי ח”ו לומר להם דין שקר על דבר שמהתורה . . פטור, ולהורות שלא כהלכה, ועל כן תפוג תורה, וכמה מכשולים יבואו על ידי כך, ולאין ספק שאמרו להם שהוא רק חומרא וגזירה שלהם, וא”כ מה רמוני, ומה ערמה יש בזה . . .

אבל הענין, כי אילו ידעו ישראל ההולכים בגולה שיהיה קץ כל כך ארוך, וישבו זמן רב כזה בעוונותינו הרבים בגולה, היו מאבדים עצמם לדעת לרוב השבר, והיה נאבד שארית יעקב, ובפרט בזמן השמדות, בעו”ה לא היו אוזרים חיל כל כך לעמוד בנסיון. ולכך התחכמו תמיד לקרב הקץ, לומר חזו דאתא, חזו דאתא, ובזה חזקו ידים רפות וברכים כושלות אמצו. ותמיד בבוא עקא וגזירא לישראל, תלו אותו בחבלי משיח לומר, הנה מלכנו יבא ויושיענו. ולכך רבי עקיבא תיכף אחר חורבן התחיל לומר משיח על בן כוזיבא וכדומה, כולם כדי לחזק ומבלי להכניע לבבות בני ישראל. ולכך נסתם ונסתר הקץ, שלא ידעו אריכות הגלות.

ועל זה צווח ירמיה (ירמיה יג, יז) במסתרים תבכה נפשי, וכוונתו על קץ שהוא נסתר כל כך עד שלבא לפומא לא גליא, על זה תבכה נפשי, כי זהו לאות שיהיה לזמן ארוך למאוד מאד. והנה לכך הנביאים וחכמי קדם התחכמו לתקוע בלבב ישראל כי קרובה ישועת ה’ לבוא, ובל יתייאשו מן רחמים, ולכך תקנו תרומות ומעשרות בחוץ לארץ באומרם הטעם, מחר ישובו לארץ ישראל ויאמרו כמו שאכלנו בחוץ לארץ בלי תרומה כן בארץ ישראל נאכל בלי תרומה, ושם חיוב גמור, ולכך תקנו אף בחוץ לארץ, והרגל נעשה טבע, וזהו אם הגאולה מהר מהר, אבל אם היא לזמנים ארוכים, ויעברו קרוב לב’ אלפים שנה, מה צורך לתיקון הזה, הלא דורי דורות לא יצטרכו לזה, והנח לחכמים שיהיו בדור אחרון, ואם כן ברואים ישראל שתיקנו כך, ישפטו לאות אמת כי תהיה מהר הגאולה, וזו היתה עורמת נביאים וחכמים.

וזהו אמרו, קראתי למאהבי המה רמוני, כי תקנו תרומות ומעשרות בחוץ לארץ, שאחשוב שישועה תהיה מהר, ובעו”ה עברו דורי דורות, ואין קול ישועה.

In terms of hoping for the Messiah’s arrival, R. Moses Sofer makes a fascinating point. He claims that to pray for the Messiah to come shows a lack of faith, because God has already promised that we will be redeemed. Therefore, he says that one should pray that the Messiah come speedily as this is something extra that has not been promised.[6]

אע”פ שבטוחים אנחנו בביאת המשיח והמתפלל עליו הוא מחסרון אמונה אבל מ”מ יתפלל שימהר ויחיש במהרה בימינו

Once the Messiah arrives, he stills needs to be accepted by the people. Thus, R. Yaakov Kamenetsky stated that the Messiah will have to be a real Torah scholar so that the Litvaks accept him, he will have to pray with enthusiasm so the hasidim accept him, he will have to fight against the evildoers so the zealots accept him, and he will have to rebuild the Land of Israel and work on its behalf so the Religious Zionists accept him.[7]

Let me make another point about the Messiah. The Jerusalem Talmud, Kilayim 9:3 states:

רבי מאיר הוה אידמך ליה באסייא אמר אימורין לבני ארעא דישראל הא משיחכון דידכון

ArtScroll translates:

R’ Meir was dying in Asia. He said [to those surrounding him], “Tell the residents of Eretz Yisrael, ‘This your great one [who has passed away here. Please assist in bringing him to Eretz Yisrael for burial].’”

The first thing I should mention is that there should have been a note on the word “Asia,” as most people who see this word this think about territory such as Russia or China. However, as Jastrow points out, when the word appears in rabbinic literature it usually refers to what we call Asia Minor, which is today part of Turkey.[8] Interestingly, Jastrow himself, following Adolphe Neubauer, assumes that in this case what the Talmud refers to is a town called Essa, east of the Sea of Galilee.[9] However, the commentators, both traditional and academic, generally agree that the Talmud here refers to Asia Minor.

The last part of the sentence has R. Meir saying הא משיחכון דידכון. What does this mean? The literal translation is “This is your Messiah.” Is it possible that R. Meir would refer to himself this way? ArtScroll thinks not and in its note justifies its translation as follows:

The term משיחה is used sometimes in the sense of authority and greatness [and not anointment] (Rashi to Exodus 29:29, from Sifri, Korach §2). That seems to be its sense here.

ArtScroll’s approach is found in the standard commentaries to the Yerushalmi, including that of R. Hayyim Kanievsky, but other approaches have also been suggested.[10]

2. Returning to the passage from R. Hayyim quoted at the beginning of this post, R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik had a different perspective than his grandfather.[11] Here is what he writes in Kol Dodi Dofek, available here

Second, the knock of the Beloved was heard on the battlefield. The tiny defense forces of ‎‎[the ‎State of] Israel defeated the mighty Arab armies. The miracle of “the many delivered into ‎the ‎hands of the few” materialized before our eyes, and an even greater miracle happened! ‎God ‎hardened the heart of Ishmael and commanded him to go into battle against the State of ‎Israel. ‎Had the Arabs not declared war on Israel and instead supported the Partition Plan, the State ‎of ‎Israel would have remained without Jerusalem, without a major portion of the Galilee, ‎and ‎without some areas of the Negev.

R. Soloveitchik sees it as a positive thing that God hardened the hearts of the Arabs so that they went to war against Israel, allowing Israel to conquer more territory than it was given in the Partition Plan. Yet this war brought about many deaths, so wouldn’t R. Hayyim say, “How can we see this as a good thing, and a miracle no less, that God ‘hardened the heart of Ishmael’?”

In a talk after the Six Day War, R. Soloveitchik offers what appears to be a different perspective than what I just quoted, as he stresses the importance of human life over territory, including the Western Wall. The following appears on the Mesora.org website here and was originally posted here.[12] I have underlined the crucial words for the purposes of this post.

Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik on Territorial Compromise

[Translation of a five-minute segment of the Rav’s 1967 Teshuva drasha (although the drasha was summarized in “Al Hateshuva”, this portion never appeared. From Arnold Lustiger)

I don’t intend here to engage in politics, but this is a matter that has weighed heavily upon me since last June. I am very unqualified to assess the extent of the deliverance that the Ribono Shel Olam accomplished on behalf of Klal Yisrael and the Jewish victory over those who hate Israel. But in my opinion, the greatest deliverance, and the greatest miracle, is simply that He saved the population of Israel from total annihilation. Don’t forget that the Arabs were Hitler’s students, Amalek, and in regard to the Arabs there is a Mitzvah of utterly blotting out Amalek’s memory. Today, they are Hitler, they want to uproot the Jewish people, and it is possible that Russia is together with them in this regard, so the status of Amalek falls upon Russia as well. The blood congeals when one considers what would have happened to the Yishuv, to the hundreds of thousands of religious Jews, of gedolei Yisrael, or to all the Jews in Israel for that matter — “there is no difference” — all Jews are Jews. This is the greatest salvation — but also that the State itself was saved. Because even if the population would remain alive, but if God forbid the State of Israel would fall, there would be a wave of assimilation and apostasy in America as well as in all Western countries. In England I heard that Rothschild said that Israel’s victory saved Judaism in France. He is 100% correct — this was better articulated by him than many Rabbis in Israel regarding the ultimate significance of the victory.

But one thing I want to say. These reasons constitute the primary salvation behind the Six Day War. Indeed, we rejoice in the [capture of] the Western Wall, in the Cave of the Patriarchs, in Rachel’s tomb. I understand the holiness of the Kotel Hamaarovi. I studied Kodshim since I was a child: Kidsha le’asid lavo, kedushas makom, kedushas mechitzos, lifnei Hashem — these are concepts with which I grew up in the cradle. The Kotel Hamaarovi is very dear, and the Har Habayis is very dear to me: I understand the kedusha perhaps much more than many religious journalists who have written so much about the Kotel Hamaarovi. But we exaggerate its importance. Our Judaism is not a religion of shrines, and it seems from this that it lies in the interests of the Ministry of Religions to institute a [foreign] concept of holy sites in Judaism — a concept we never had.

We indeed have the concept of kedushas mokom, this is the Bais Hamikdash, [but] graves are not mekomos hakedoshim. As important as kivrei tzaddikim are, they are not holy. Perhaps there is a different halacha. To visit kivrei tzaddikim is important, like mekomos hakedoshim. I will tell you a secret — it doesn’t matter under whose jurisdiction the Kotel Hamaarovi lies — whether it is under the Ministry of Parks or under the Ministry of Religions, either way no Jew will disturb the site of the Kotel Hamaarovi. One is indeed on a great spiritual level if he desires to pray at the Kotel Hamaarovi. But many mistakenly believe that the significance of the victory lies more in regaining the Kotel Hamaarovi than the fact that 2 million Jews were saved, and that the Malkhut Yisrael was saved. Because really, a Jew does not need the Kotel Hamaarovi to be lifnei (in front of) Hashem. Naturally, mikdash has a separate kedusha which is lifnei Hashem. But there is a lifnei Hashem which spreads out over the entire world, wherever a Jew does not sin, wherever a Jew learns Torah, wherever a Jew does mitzvos, “minayen sheshnayim yoshvim ve’oskim beTorah hashechinah imahem” — through the entire world.

I want you to understand, I give praise and thanks to the Ribono Shel Olam for liberating the Kotel Hamaarovi and for liberating and for removing all Eretz Yisrael from the Arabs, so that it now belongs to us. But I don’t need to rule whether we should give the West Bank back to the Arabs or not to give the West Bank to the Arabs. We Rabbis should not be involved in decisions regarding the safety and security of the population. These are not merely Halakhic rulings. These decisions are a matter of pikuach nefesh for the entire population. And if the government were to rule that the safety of the population requires that specific territories must be returned, whether I issue a halakhic ruling or not, their decision is the deciding factor.

If pikuach nefesh supersedes all other mitzvos, it supersedes all prohibitions of the Torah, especially pikuach nefesh of the yishuv in Eretz Yisrael. And all the silly statements I read in the newspapers — one journalist says that we must give all the territory back, another says that we must give only some territory back, another releases edicts, strictures and warnings not to give anything back. These Jews are playing with 2 million lives. I will say that as dear as the Kotel Hamaarovi is, the 2 million lives of Jews are more important.[13] We have to negotiate with common sense, as the security of the yishuv requires. What specifically these security requirements are, I don’t know, I don’t understand these things. These decisions require a military perspective, which one must research assiduously. The borders that must be established should be based upon that which will provide more security. It is not a topic appropriate for which rabbis should release statements or for rabbinical conferences.

3. In the last post I mentioned a couple of great rabbis from earlier eras, and how the praise they were offered for mastering the Talmud is nowhere near what is said about great rabbis in more recent years. A few people emailed me with examples of how different rabbis in modern times are praised for having completed Shas twenty or thirty times. R. Kook’s father stated that when his son, R. Abraham Isaac Kook, was in Volozhin he completed 60blatta day be-iyun.[14] Chaim Meiselman, whose videos about seforim can be seen here, called my attention to R. Samuel Darmstadt of Mannheim (died 1782),[15] who is reported to have completed Shas 112 times.[16] But this is nothing compared to what R. Shlomo Lorincz writes about R. Moshe Feinstein. He reports in the name of R. Reuven Feinstein that R. Moshe completed Shas over two hundred times. (R. Reuven denies having said this.) If that is not enough to impress you, he also states that R. Moshe finished Tractate Shabbat every week, and he quotes an unnamed member of R. Moshe’s family who claims to have been at a siyum where R. Moshe completed Shabbat for the thousandth time.[17] One would think that a member of the Kenesset for over thirty years would know enough not to repeat such an obviously ridiculous and impossible story.

4. In June 2018 Yaacov Sasson published a letter, found in the Israel State Archives, from R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik to President Chaim Herzog dealing with R. Meir Kahane. See here. In two later posts it was claimed that this letter is a forgery. See here and here. After careful analysis, I, too, agree that the letter is a forgery. (I also know that had I discovered the letter, I would have been very excited to publish it and would have never considered the possibility of forgery.)

Sasson does not mention that the Chaim Herzog archive also contains Herzog’s reply to the Rav upon receipt of the letter. One can only wonder what the Rav’s reaction was when he received this correspondence responding to the forged letter.

I found an interesting letter from Kahane in the Israel State Archives.[18] R. Dov Katz’s reply to Kahane is from December 22, 1954, which means that Kahane’s letter was written when he was 22 years old. Kahane’s letter was not addressed to an individual chief rabbi, but the Chief Rabbinate as a whole. It deals with something he was concerned with his entire life, namely, the place of non-Jews in the State of Israel. In his later years, Kahane was adamant that it was against halakhah for non-Jews to have any political role in Israel, including serving in the Knesset. Here we see that he was not sure about the matter, and wonders if the Meiri’s more liberal view on these sorts of issues should be our guide. It is not surprising that in his response R. Katz dodges the issue.

Regarding Kahane, a few days before his November 5, 1990 assassination, he delivered a public lecture at Brandeis University. I uploaded the video to YouTube.

In 1985 Kahane debated Brandeis Hillel Director Rabbi Albert Axelrad. Only a portion of this debate survives, and I have uploaded it to YouTube.

For R. Shear Yashuv Cohen’s response to Kahane, referring to him as an am ha-aretz, see here. Among other things he writes:

כל מי שחושב, שאפשר לקחת את הסעיפים מ”משנה-תורה” לרמב”ם ולהפוך אותם לחוק המדינה כמות שהם, בלי להתחשב בנסיבות, הוא לא רק עם-הארץ, הוא יותר מזה, הוא טועה ומטעה את הרבים. משום שהרמב”ם לעצמו היה כותב את הלכותיו בפני המדינה, עם בעיותיה העכשוויות, אחרת מאשר הוא כתב אותן בזמנו. לא שהתורה משתנית, חלילה, אלא המושגים החברתיים הם אחרים ולכן הניסוח של ההלכה מוכרח להיות מחודש. ניסוח של הלכה נצחית צריך להתמודד עם בעיות חדשות שעולות לפני הפוסק. אי אפשר לפסוק היום על סמך ניסוח קדום ומבלי להביא בחשבון את השינויים שחלו מאז ועד היום

4. During the Rosh ha-Shanah and Yom Kippur prayers there are times when we prostrate ourselves. Many people use a cloth for this even though technically, if the floor is not stone, there is no need. Where are people supposed to put the cloth, under their head or under their knees? I have looked around and also asked people from a variety of synagogues, including Modern Orthodox, yeshivish, and Hasidic. What I have learned is that while many put the cloth under their head, many also, in all sorts of Orthodox shuls, put it under their knees. In some shuls, almost everyone puts it under their knees.

The ArtScroll Machzors for Rosh ha-Shanah and Yom Kippur state the following in Musaf before Alenu (and I have underlined the relevant sentence):

The Torah forbids one to prostrate himself (i.e., with outstretched arms and legs) on a floor of hewn stone (Leviticus 26:1). The Sages forbade complete prostration even on a floor not of hewn stone, and they forbade even kneeling (without outstretched limbs) on a stone floor. Therefore, if the synagogue has a stone floor, one must cover the surface upon which he will kneel (Rama, Orach Chaim 131:8; Mishnah Berurah §40). There are some views, however, that it is preferable to cover the floor no matter what it is made of. This is the source of the general practice to put something on the floor when kneeling, even if the floor is surfaced with linoleum or carpeting.[19]

ArtScroll states that if there is a stone floor then you must cover the surface upon which you kneel. It doesn’t say to cover the surface upon which you place your head. This means that according to ArtScroll the cloth should be under your knees.

Yet this is mistaken, and the sources ArtScroll cites do not support this claim. Rama, Orah Hayyim 131:8 states:

וכן אסור לכל אדם ליפול על פניו בפישוט ידים ורגלים אפילו אם אין שם אבן משכית אבל אם נוטה קצת על צדו מותר אם אין שם אבן משכית וכן יעשו ביו”כ כשנופלין על פניהם אם יציעו שם עשבים כדי להפסיק בין הקרקע וכן נוהגין

The Rama says nothing about covering the surface where you kneel, and neither does the Mishnah Berurah. The point of the Rama is that on Yom Kippur, when you bring your head entirely to the ground – he does not mention doing this on Rosh ha-Shanah – that you need to have something separating between your head and the ground. The Mishnah Berurah, in the section directly after the one referred to by ArtScroll, 131:41, is explicit that the issue is one’s head touching the floor not one’s knees.

ודוקא כשפניו דבוקים בקרקע אבל אם שוחה בתפלה אפי’ יש שם רצפה שרי

A complete discussion of this issue, with the point of correcting the widespread error, is found in R. Elhanan Printz, Avnei Derekh, vol. 4, no. 99.[20]

5. Since theMishnah Berurah just quoted mentions the word רצפה, let me say something about this as well. There is a common mistake that many readers of Megillat Esther make. From speaking to people, and watching online videos, it seems that at least 75 percent of Ashkenazim who read the Megillah make this mistake. Among Sephardim it is significantly less.

Esther 1:6 reads:

ח֣וּר ׀ כַּרְפַּ֣ס וּתְכֵ֗לֶת אָחוּז֙ בְּחַבְלֵי־ב֣וּץ וְאַרְגָּמָ֔ן עַל־גְּלִ֥ילֵי כֶ֖סֶף וְעַמּ֣וּדֵי שֵׁ֑שׁ מִטּ֣וֹת ׀ זָהָ֣ב וָכֶ֗סֶף עַ֛ל רִֽצְפַ֥ת בַּהַט־וָשֵׁ֖שׁ וְדַ֥ר וְסֹחָֽרֶת

The fifth word from the end of the sentence reads רִֽצְפַת. However, when the Megillah is read this word is usually pronounced as ritzpat. This is a real mistake, the sort that should be corrected. Since it is not pleasant to correct the Megillah reader during the reading, the best thing is to speak to him (or her) beforehand.

The reason this mistake should be corrected is that if you read the word as ritzpat, it is actually a different word, with a different meaning, than the word that appears in the Megillah: רִֽצְפַת. In the Bible, the word for floor or pavement is רִֽצְפָה. There is no dagesh in the פ. For example, II Chron. 7:3 reads:

וַיִּכְרְעוּ֩ אַפַּ֨יִם אַ֤רְצָה עַל־הָרִֽצְפָה֙ וַיִּֽשְׁתַּֽחֲו֔וּ

Ritzpah, with a dagesh in the פ, means glowing stone or hot coal. See Isaiah 6:6:

וַיָּ֣עָף אֵלַ֗י אֶחָד֙ מִן־הַשְּׂרָפִ֔ים וּבְיָד֖וֹ רִצְפָּ֑ה בְּמֶ֨לְקַחַ֔יִם לָקַ֖ח מֵעַ֥ל הַמִּזְבֵּֽחַ

People make the mistake in reading the Megillah since in modern Hebrew, unlike biblical Hebrew, “floor” is ritzpah, with a dagesh in the פ. Eliezer Ben Yehudah in his dictionary, s.v. רצפה, already noted the mistake of Hebrew speakers (כטעות המדברים) who put a dagesh in the פ of רצפה when saying “floor”. Languages change so today we would not say that this is a mistake, but when reading from the Megillah on Purim it certainly is an error, and one that should be corrected.

Some people who are careful readers see that there is no dagesh in the פ and therefore read the word in the Megillah as ritzfat. However, this is also incorrect. If you look in the Bible you will find that all the times the words רצפה and רצפת appear there is a gaya after the ר. You can also see this in the two examples given above. This indicates that the shewa under the צ is a vocal shewa. There are different traditions as to how exactly to pronounce the vocal shewa, but all are in agreement that pronouncing this word as ritzfat is a mistake (though it is not a mistake that needs to be corrected). You can hear the outstanding ba’al keriah R. Jeremy Wieder read the verse here.

6. Since the publication of Changing the Immutable, I have discovered many more instances of censorship, almost enough for a volume 2. Readers have also alerted me to a number of examples, and let me now share one that I was recently sent.

In the Ralbag’s commentary on the Torah, for each parashah he includes all sorts of lessons under the heading תועלת. Here is a page from parashat miketz (in the Birkat Moshe edition).

In no. 13 Ralbag states that the Torah teaches us to avoid inappropriate sexual relations, which only people lacking in intelligence fall into. He adds that Reuben, who slept with Bilhah, is portrayed in the Torah as a חסר דעת, which I guess could be translated as “imbecile.” He gives another example of Reuben’s foolishness in that when attempting to reassure Jacob that he would bring Benjamin back to him after taking him down to Egypt, Reuben states: “Thou shalt slay my two sons, if I bring him not to thee.” Ralbag sees this as unbelievable stupidity, since if Jacob were to lose Benjamin, how would he be comforted by killing two of his own grandchildren?

Here is the corresponding page from the work Toaliyot ha-Ralbag (Jerusalem, 2006). This volume is a collection of all the Ralbag’s “lessons” from the parashiyot of the Torah.

As you can see, lesson no. 13 has been deleted. I am actually surprised that the publisher did not simply renumber the lessons, so people would not realize that no. 13 is missing. The “problem” with what Ralbag wrote is not simply his judgment about Reuben’s intelligence, but that he also understands Reuben to have slept with Bilhah, following the simple meaning of Genesis 35:22 as opposed to the talmudic explanation (Shabbat 55b) that the verse is not to be understood literally.[21]

Once again, we can only wonder where a 21st century editor gets the idea that it is OK for him to censor the writings of one of the great rishonim.

7. In the past, I have shown how material I have posted on the Seforim Blog has appeared in other places, sometimes with acknowledgment and other times without. I also have shown how pictures posted here have become public domain and understandably no one even remembers where they first appeared, and this is indeed the case with all images posted online. Here is another example which I recently came across. In an earlier post I included this picture of myself with the late Rabbi Aharon Felder.

Both The Yeshiva World here and the Keystone-K Kashrus organization here have the following picture of R. Felder on their websites.

I am happy that in looking for a picture of R. Felder they thought that the one he took with me was nice enough to use. In a circumstance like this, there is nothing wrong with cropping the picture (unlike, for instance, in pictures of historical significance, like when R. Soloveitchik was removed from a picture with R. Aaron Kotler or the Hafetz Hayyim’s wife was removed from the famous picture of her standing behind her husband).

I had thought that in this post I would discuss R. Mordechai Elefant’s memoir and offer my take on it, but I see that the post is already long enough so I will return to this in the future.

***************

[1] R. Zvi Ezekiel Michaelson, Ateret Menahem, pp. 35b-36a (no. 182).
[2] Teshuvot ve-Hanhagot, vol. 4, p. 206.
[3] Ma’aynei Yeshuah, printed in Abarbanel’s commentary to the Prophets, p. 283.
[4] Elbonah shel Torah (Berlin, 1929), pp. 24a-b. See similarly Joseph Judah Leib Sossnitz, Ha-Maor (Warsaw, 1889), p. 103.
[5] Ye’arot Devash, vol. 2, Derush 6 (p. 95 in the Jerusalem 1988 edition). See R. Chaim Rapoport, “Shitat ha-‘Ye’arot Devash’ be-Inyan Rabbi Akiva u-Ven Koziva,” Kovetz Divrei Torah 27 (5770), pp. 101-105. The words I have underlined were previously emphasized by R. Rapoport. Elsewhere, R. Eybeschuetz presents a different perspective and states that R. Akiva erred in declaring Bar Kokhba the Messiah. By saying that R. Akiva erred it means that R. Akiva really believed what he said. See Elyasaf Frisch in Ha-Ma’yan 57 (Nisan 5777), pp. 84-85. Because he views R. Eybeschuetz’s opinion as shocking, R. Yaakov Koppel Schwartz suggests that the passage, or at least the section dealing with Bar Kokhba, is not authentic but is either a “mistake” (whatever that is supposed to mean) or was inserted by an unknown heretic. See Yekev Efraim: Mikhtevei Torah, vol. 5, p. 215.

In discussing R. Akiva’s belief that Bar Kokhba was the Messiah, Maimonides writes (Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Melakhim 11:3):

והוא היה אומר עליו שהוא המלך המשיח ודמה הוא וכל חכמי דורו שהוא המלך המשיח עד שנהרג בעוונות

R. Zvi Yehudah Kook claimed that out of respect Maimonides did not use the wordטעהwith reference to R. Akiva and the other sages. Instead, he used the word דמה. See Yosef Badihi, Yosef Lekah (Jerusalem, 2012), p. 224. See, however, R. Chaim Rapoport, “Be-Inyan Ben Koziva ha-Melekh ve-ha-Lekah Mimenu le-Dorot,” Kovetz Hearot u-Veurim 920 (5766), pp. 11ff., who cites passages from the Mishneh Torah that show that when Maimonides uses the word דמה it means טעה.

One other point about the word דמה is worth noting. In the Bible you find this word, but you also find a similar word whose root is דמם. (There is a another word which also has the root דמה, and means “to cease”, see e.g., Lamentations 3:49. But I will not deal with it at present). The difference between דמה and דמם is seen clearly in a verse that we all know, as it is a part of the daily prayers (Exodus 15:16):

                          בִּגְדֹל זְרוֹעֲךָ יִדְּמוּ כָּאָבֶן

In this verse, the word ידמו comes from the root דמם. As noted by R. Seraya Deblitsky, in his haskamah to R. Yehudah Aryeh Gutman, Kelalei Ta’amei ha-Mikra (Brooklyn, 2001), it is vital that the ba’al keriah reads the word ידמו with a vocal shewa on the ד (indicated by the dagesh). The words then mean: “By the greatness of thine arm, they are as still as a stone.” If, however,  ידמו is read with a silent shewa, it means that the word comes from the root דמה. In that case, the verse means that the Egyptians “appear like a stone”. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it appears clear to me that if ידמו is read this way that the ba’al keriah should be corrected, as the word has a different meaning than what it should have.
[6] Torat Moshe ha-Shalem, vol. 2, p. 66 (parashat Be-Shalah, s.v. מה תצעק אלי). See R. Yaakov Koppel Schwartz, Likutei Diburim, vol. 3, p. 179.
[7] Emet le-Yaakov al Nevi’im u-Ketuvim (Jerusalem, 2015), p. 424 n. 4.
[8] Regarding this place, see Michael Guttmann, Mafteah ha-Talmud, vol. 3, s.v. אסיא.
[9] Neubauer, La géographie du Talmud (Paris, 1868), p. 38.
[10] See e.g., R. Zechariah Frankel, Darkhei ha-Mishnah (Leipzig, 1859), p. 155 n. 7, who suggests a textual emendation. For other suggestions, see R. Jacob Brill, Mavo ha-Mishnah (Frankfurt, 1876), pp. 162-163; R. Judah Leib Landesberg, Hikrei Lev (Satmar, 1909) vol. 4, p. 44; R. Hayyim Fishel Epstein, Teshuvah Shelemah, vol. 2, Yoreh Deah,no. 15.

R. Elijah ben Solomon ha-Kohen,Mizbah Eliyahu(Izmir, 1867), p. 229b, writes:

שרבי מאיר הכיר בעצמו שאם הדור היה זכאי היה ראוי הוא להיות משיח. וכשמת וראה שלא זכה הדור גילה להם הדבר ומה שגרמו עוונותיהם

Interestingly, in the days of R. Saadiah Gaon there was a Karaite scholar named Hasan ben Mashiah, who generally is referred to as simply בן משיח. Ibn Ezra mentions him in the introduction to his commentary on the Torah. In this case משיח must have been an actual name. The nineteenth-century rabbinic scholar R. Israel Moses Hazan, author of Kerakh shel Romi, would occasionally sign his name משי”ח (the letters of his name), but more often he would use המשי”ח (the ה standing for הרב). You also find him writing about himself: אמר המשי”ח


[11] Although he idealized his grandfather, R. Soloveitchik was not a blind follower. See Zorah Warhaftig, Hamishim Shanah ve-Shanah: Pirkei Zikhronot (Jerusalem, 1998) pp. 100-101, who reports that he was told by R. Soloveitchik that his grandfather made three mistakes: 1. He opposed the new aliyah to Eretz Yisrael, as he was worried that it would lead to a religious decline among the settlers. 2. He did not grasp the significance of Jewish immigration to America. 3. He thought that the religious life of Brisk would not be affected by the societal changes sweeping Europe.
[12] See also the recently published letter of the Rav to Prof. Ernst Simon in Yair Kahn and Kalman Neuman, “A Rabbinic Exchange on the Disengagement: A Case Study in R. Aharon Lichtenstein’s Approach to Hilkhot Tsibbur,” Tradition 47 (Winter 2014), pp. 161-162, 185-186, available here.
[13] The Rav has often been quoted as saying that it if it cost even one life to recapture the Kotel, it was not worth it.
[14] See R. Yehoshua Kaniel’s eulogy for R. Kook in Me-Avnei ha-Makom 11 (2000), p. 57. I wonder how many pages a day this amazing kid is doing? At age 11 he already knew the entire Mishnah by heart.

[15] See Isak Unna, Die Lemle Moses Klaus-Stiftung in Mannheim (Frankfurt, 1908), pp. 13-14.
[16] Unna, Die Lemle Moses Klaus-Stiftung in Mannheim, p. 63.
[17] Shlomo Lorincz, Bi-Mehitzatam shel Gedolei ha-Torah, vol. 2, p. 610. He also reports that R. Moshe reviewed fifty pages of Talmud a day, and that he had a siyum upon completing the Shulhan Arukh for the seven hundredth time.
[18] File 8564/4, new call no.: 000i8nt. The file can be seen here.
[19] Is this indeed the general practice? In my experience it seems that many people do not put something on the floor if there is a carpet. See also R. Aharon Leib Steinman’s Ke-Ayal Ta’arog be-Inyanei ha-Moadim, p. 423:

הרה”ג רבי דוד הילמן שלח לשאול את רבנו האם בבתי כנסת שהרצפה מעץ צריך לכרוע בהפסק על פניהם או לא, דהרי כל החסרון הוא באבן דמחזי כאבן משכית ולא בעץ. וענה רבנו שבעיר בריסק הרצפה היתה מאבן וע”כ כולם עשו כורעים עם הפסק, אבל במשך השנים יצא לו להתפלל גם בבתי כנסת מעץ ושם רוב האנשים עשו כורעים בלי הפסק מלבד כמה יחידים (מפי נכדו הרה”ג ר’ אשר שטינמן. ועי’ הליכות שלמה תפילה יט, ו [צ”ל ח] שבשטיח מחובר שהוא קבוע המנהג להחמיר, אם כי מעיקר הדין מותר

[20] Regarding ArtScroll, someone I know mentioned that he thinks it is surprising that ArtScroll does not have יתגדל ויתקדש with a tzere under the ד in accord with the Mishnah Berurah’s opinion (56:2), or at least mention that this is the opinion of the Mishnah Berurah. As he put it, in yeshivish circles, the Mishnah Berurah is king and ArtScroll comes from that world.

I don’t think it is surprising that they did not change the text (although I would have expected them to note the different vocalization in a note). ArtScroll is producing a siddur for the Jewish community as a whole, and the overwhelming majority of people pronounce the words with a patah under the ד. In fact, I am sure that there are a number of other examples where ArtScroll does not follow the Mishnah Berurah’s opinion. I found one such case: In 8:10 the Mishnah Berurah states that when putting on one’s Tallit, in the blessing להתעטף בציצית, there should be shewa under the ב in the word בציצית. Yet ArtScroll places a patah under the ב which is the standard Ashkenazic practice. In fact, other than Tehillat Hashem (Chabad), are there any other current Ashkenazic siddurim that have a shewa under the ב?
[21] For other rishonim who reject the talmudic reinterpretation of the verse, see Changing the Immutable, p. 5.




An Autopsy in Antebellum America: Exhuming a Forgotten 19th Century Halachic Debate on Cadaveric Dissection Part I

An Autopsy in Antebellum America:
Exhuming a Forgotten 19th Century Halachic Debate on Cadaveric Dissection
Part I

By Shimon Garrel

Shimon Garrel is a current M.D. candidate at SUNY Downstate Health Science University. He is a graduate of Touro College and studied in various yeshivas in New York and Israel. 

Halachic Considerations

This article is part I of II that will seek to address two points. The first and primary goal is to bring to light a somewhat forgotten and unacknowledged controversy regarding the permissibility of cadaveric dissection of Jewish bodies that took place in the heart of New York in 1856. A secondary aspect of this study which will appear in Part II is to examine the primary halachic responses to this debate especially in light of the contemporaneous halachic literature on the subject of performing a Post-Mortem.

To fully appreciate the background of this controversy we will begin with a short review of some of the primary halachic positions on autopsies leading up to 1856. Any discussion on halachic autopsies begins with Rabbi Yechezkel Landau, author of the Noda Be-Yehuda. The Noda Be’Yehuda’s landmark teshuva, Tinyana Y.D. 210, was the first teshuva of a world renown posek to directly address the permissibility of autopsies. Since its publication, the body of teshuvos and literature addressing the subject has grown almost exponentially. The question posed to the Noda Be’yehuda, was whether the body of a patient who passed away from a suspected gallstone[1] may be dissected to understand the pathology of the disease.

Regarding your treatise, which you sent to me, and which offers a presentation of the issue that you were asked about by the holy community of London: It happened that someone was ill with a gallstone. The physicians performed surgery, as usual for such an affliction, but it did not cure him, and he died. The sages of that city were asked if it is permissible to dissect the cadaver in that place to see evidence of the root of the affliction, and to learn from it for the future practice of medicine, so that if such a case occurs again, they know how to perform the surgery necessary for a cure without incising him too much, thus minimizing the risks of the surgery. Is this prohibited because it constitutes desecration and disgrace of this corpse, or is it permitted because it leads to the future saving of lives, so that they may take the utmost caution in their craft.

…In our case, there is no ill person who needs this. Rather, they want to study this discipline in case they encounter a sick person who requires it. We certainly do not supersede any Torah prohibition or even a rabbinic prohibition due to such a slight concern. For if you call this concern “an uncertainty pertaining to a life,” then any task related to healing—grinding and cooking medicine or preparing a scalpel for bloodletting—will be permitted on Shabbat, perhaps they will encounter a sick person who requires it that night or the next day. It is also difficult to distinguish between concern for the need arising in the near future and concern for the need arising in the distant future. Heaven forfend that such a thing should be permitted. Even gentile physicians do not gain surgical experience with just any corpse, but only with those put to death by the law[2] or with those who themselves consented to it while living. If we, God forbid, are lax in this matter, they will operate on every corpse to learn anatomy and physiology, so that they may know how to cure the living. Therefore, this is all unnecessarily lengthy, and there is no lenient approach whatsoever.[3]

For the next century, many if not all halachic deliberations on the matter of autopsies centered around the conditions set by the Noda Be-Yehuda’s ruling. The Noda Be’Yehuda’s perspective on this is clear. An autopsy may only be permitted in a matter of life and death that is “lefanenu”, where performing the autopsy can immediately benefit a high-risk patient. Post-Mortem examinations with the intent of simply studying “ in case they encounter a sick person” does not rise to the level of pikuach nefesh which would permit violating various prohibitions of desecrating a body. The Chasam Sofer, Y.D. 337 commenting on the Noda Be’Yehuda’s psak, agreed to the essence of the teshuva and introduces another element not cited by Rabbi Landau, which is that of a dead body being forbidden to derive benefit from. Without a direct beneficiary of the knowledge gained by the medical autopsy, writes the Chasam Sofer, it is forbidden to conduct a dissection both on grounds of Nivul Ha-Meis, desecration of the dead, and Issur Hanah, the inability to derive any benefit from a dead body.[4]

Rabbi Yaakov Ettlinger, the famed German Talmudist and Posek, took an even more hardline approach than the Noda Be-Yehuda and the Chasam Sofer. In Teshuva 170 published in his Binyan Tzion, he quotes the Noda Be-Yehuda and argues that even if there would be a deathly ill patient who may benefit from the knowledge gleaned from the dissection of a Jewish corpse it is absolutely forbidden to save one’s self by desecrating another body.[5]

We have now seen a brief collection of the positions of some of the most widely respected poskim of the late 18th and early 19th century Europe. The consensus of these poskim with the notable exception of Rabbi Ettlinger, would be to allow an autopsy only in a case where there is a patient who will directly benefit from the anatomical and pathological knowledge derived from that dissection.

Jews’ Hospital of New York

By the year 1848, the New York City Jewish population had swelled from an estimated count of 950 in 1826 to 13,000.[6] The increase in Jewish population in New York reflected the influx of Jewish immigrants that had begun making their way to the United States. This wave of immigration consisted mainly of Jews hailing from Central and Western Europe. Like many immigration stories, a mix of push and pull factors like political instability in the rapidly changing German confederacy, the economic needs of Jewish families due to the rapidly increasing industrialization, and perhaps a spirit of adventure, caused many German Jews to journey to America.[7]


Sampson Simson

With large amounts of immigrants settling in the slums of New York, it came to the attention of some of the wealthier Jews in New York, that a gaping medical void needed to be filled. While immigrant Jews requiring medical care could get it at city hospitals like Bellevue Hospital, many faced discrimination and it certain cases, may have even been refused treatment. With the unabated Jewish population growth, the urgency to open a Jewish hospital became more and more pronounced. On January 15th, 1852, a small group of nine friends, most of them prominent members of “high society” as well descendants of some of the earliest Jewish families in America, gathered in the Trustees’ room of Shearith Israel, the historic Spanish Portuguese Synagogue, and incorporated “The Jews’ Hospital of New York”. The nine represented a cross section of some of the most important and connected Jews in New York who had worked together on other charitable causes. The leader and most senior member of the group was 72-year-old Sampson Simson. Simson, a Columbia College graduate who studied law under Aaron Burr, had been involved in many other charitable enterprises after his early retirement spent the rest of his life involved in public affairs and charity.[9] The other eight were each men of repute, Rev Samuel M. Isaacs, famous for being on of the officiating clergy men of President Lincoln’s funeral. The others, John I. Hart, Benjamin Nathan, John M. Davies, Henry Hendricks, Theodore J. Seixas, Isaac Phillips and John D. Phillips were wealthy businessmen who had participated in varies Jewish charities and were eager to contribute to this much needed project. With Sampson elected as president of the first board of Directors of the Hospital, the mission statement was defined as to provide “medical and surgical aid to persons of Jewish persuasion and for all other purposes appertaining to Hospitals and Dispensaries”.

Within a few months, funds were raised, and a location was purchased by Sampson on 28th street between 7th and 8th Avenues, which at the time was away from the hustle of lower Manhattan and in the “rural” part of Manhattan Island. By Fall of 1853, the cornerstone had been laid and construction had commenced. On May 17th 1855, the Jews’ hospital was opened in a religious ceremony that was led by Reverend Jacques Judah Lyons, the Suriname born rabbi of the Shearith Israel, as well as Ansel Leo, a nephew by marriage to Simpson and leader of congregation B’nai Jeshurun, the second oldest orthodox shul in Manhattan after Shearith Israel.[10] And finally, on June 5th 1855, the first patient was accepted to Jews’ Hospital of New York. With great fanfare the first Jewish hospital in New York, and the second in the country,[11] was opened to the Jewish public.

Figure 2 From the Picture Collection of the New York Public Library. Jews’ Hospital in New York. Printed on border: “Incorporated February, 1866. 138 and 140 West Twenty-eighth Street, between Seventh and Eighth Avenues.” In 1866 the hospital ceased acting as a sectarian institution.

A “Dissection” for the sake of Heaven

The house staff of Jews’ Hospital consisted of what today would be called an all-star team. As detailed in “The story of the first fifty years of the Mount Sinai Hospital, 1852-1902”; pg’s 22 -23.

The first Staff, announced by the Board of Directors on May 21, 1855, included some of the most prominent physicians and surgeons practicing in New York. These men had faith in the efforts of Sampson Simson and his associates. There were four Consulting Physicians. One was Chandler R. Gilman, a witty conversationalist who in his younger days had supplemented the meagre earnings of his early medical career by writing.49 He was Professor of Obstetrics and Diseases of Women and Children at the College of Physicians and Surgeons, having been appointed in 1841; and in 1894 he was one of the few contemporary physicians to insist that there was such a thing as criminal insanity and that such criminals should have special treatment. Another was William Detmold, a German, who had introduced orthopedic surgery in New York, had founded an orthopedic clinic at the College of Physicians and Surgeons in 1841, and was to be the first President of the New York County Medical Association in 1884. William H. Maxwell was the third Consulting Physician, while the fourth was Benjamin W. McCready, a highly respected physician and an early contributor to the funds of the Hospital. The two Attending Surgeons were Israel Moses, an Army surgeon who also had contributed toward the building of the Hospital, and Alexander B. Mott, the son of Valentine Mott … He was an excellent surgeon in his own right, and the founder of Bellevue Medical College. There were three Consulting Surgeons: the great Valentine Mott; Thomas M. Markoe, one of the founders of the New York Academy of Medicine eight years earlier; and Willard Parker, a leader in surgery, a brilliant lecturer who had taught at Berkshire County Medical College and the College of Physicians and Surgeons, and a co-founder with Daniel Drake of the Cincinnati Medical College in 1835. The Resident and Attending Physician was Mark Blumenthal.[12] A member of the Portuguese Congregation, Mark Blumenthal was its official doctor in its help of the sick.

With an impressive roster of physicians and large financial backing from the Jews of New York, the Jews’ Hospital at the time of its opening was placed in the unique position of being unencumbered by prehistoric medical practices and policies while being run by some of the most forward-thinking and innovative physicians in New York. With a top-of-the-line staff, the introduction of some newer methodologies was not long in coming. On December 5th of 1855, exactly 6 months after the hospital’s opening, a meeting was called at the behest of Dr. Blumenthal, the house physician of the hospital and important to note, a practicing Jew. Dr. Blumenthal asked for permission to perform a post-mortem dissection on a deceased patient, as a “justification” to defend himself against the consulting physician who disagreed with Dr. Blumenthal’s assessment on the cause of death.[13] The use of post-mortem examination to determine cause of death was a fairly new phenomenon for the 19th century.[14] Advances in anatomic as well as histologic pathology had begun to take root in medical practice in Europe. French physician and “Father of Histology” Xavier Bichat (1777 -1802) famously wrote that “we should dissect in anatomy, experiment in physiology, and make necropsy in medicine; this is the threefold path without which there can be no anatomist, no physiologist, and no physician.”T[15] The spirit permeating western European hospitals especially was that a great physician wedded clinical medicine with knowledge gleaned from anatomic and pathologic examinations. Blumenthal, besides serving as the deputy coroner of New York city in 1853, spent part of 1854 visiting hospitals in London, Paris, and Munich.12 There is no doubt he bore witness to some of the attitudes and practices present in these hospitals and took some of what he learnt back to New York.

At the convened meeting, Dr. Blumenthal’s request was discussed, and the Board of Directors approved the post-mortem examination. It wasn’t long before word of the autopsy began to circulate and the Board of the Jews’ Hospital met once again on January 14th to appoint a committee to investigate whether a carte blanche policy to post mortems at the hospital should be allowed. The committee decided to submit the question to Rabbi Dr. Nathan Adler, Chief Rabbi of England, to decide whether autopsies should be permitted under “any circumstances.”[16]

Endnotes

[1] While frequently assumed to be referring to gallstones, Rabbi Dr. Edward Reichman has convincingly argued that it is in fact a case of bladder stones. See Reichman, E. (2021). The anatomy of Jewish law: A fresh dissection of the relationship between medicine, Medical History & Rabbinic literature. OU Press. pg’s. 344 -350. Although mention should be made of the work of the French anatomist and Surgeon Jean-Louis Petit who reported and advocated for performing cholecystostomy in the early part of the 18th century. See Clark BB., Livingston WT. Evaluation of Cholecystostomy. AMA Arch Surg. 1956;72(2):218–223. For an overview of Jean-Louis Petit’s life, see Markatos, K., et al; Jean-Louis Petit (1674–1750): a pioneer anatomist and surgeon and his contribution to orthopaedic surgery and trauma surgery. International Orthopaedics (SICOT) 42, 2003–2007 (2018). I have left “אבן בכיס” as gallstones to maintain the original Sefaria translation.
[2] Interestingly, criminal bodies were the most common source of cadavers in England beginning with the English Murder Act of 1752. England of the early 18th century was experiencing concurrently a growth in the number of medical schools in the country as well as a perceived rise in crime. Hoping to “kill” as it were, two birds with one stone, Parliament passed the Murder Act in which bodies of executed criminals were to be used as medical cadavers. The hope was that this would both serve as a deterrent to criminals as it preyed on commonly held Christian religious sentiment about the need for proper burial. Similar laws were soon passed throughout parts of Europe and no doubt the Noda Be’Yehuda was aware of these codes. Understanding this also helps provide important perspective into the psak of the Noda Be’Yehuda. For a comprehensive legal and historical background on the passing of the Murder Act See Tarlow S, Battell Lowman E. Harnessing the Power of the Criminal Corpse (2018). Cham (CH): Palgrave Macmillan; 2018. Chapter 4, Murder and the Law, 1752–1832.
[3] Translation taken from Sefaria.
[4] Regarding the Chasam Sofer’s psak that studying medicine from dissections is considered Issur Hanaha see שות נצר במטעי סילא and She’elot U’Teshuvot Be’er Moshe(Danishevsky) Y.D. 52 who discuss and challenge this assumption.
[5] The novel ruling of Rabbi Ettlinger, that one may not be saved by way of desecrating a dead body has been challenged by many other Poskim. See the direct response of the Maharam Schick to Rabbi Ettlinger in She’elot U’Teshuvot Maharam Schick 336. See further Rabbi Ettlinger’s reply in She’elot U’Teshuvot Binyan Tzion 171.
[6] Oppenheim, S. D. (1918). The Jewish Population of The United States. The American Jewish Year Book, 20, 31–74. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23600990
[7] On the German Jewish immigration to America, see generally Barkai, Avraham. Branching Out: German-Jewish Immigration to the United States, 1820-1914. New York: Holmes & Meier, 1994 and Diner, Hasia R. A Time for Gathering: The Second Migration, 1820–1880 (1992).
[8] Isaacs, M. S. (1902). SAMPSON SIMSON. Publications of the American Jewish Historical Society, 10, 109–117. http://www.jstor.org/stable/43059667
[9] Mount Sinai Hospital (New York, N., Benedict, J. (1944). The story of the first fifty years of the Mount Sinai Hospital, 1852-1902. New York. See pages 5 and 6 for a detailed account of each of the founding directors.
[10] Ibid. pg 9.
[11] The first Jewish hospital in the United States was the aptly named Jewish Hospital of Cincinnati. It was founded around the year 1850. See pg. 4 of the December 9th 1853, edition of the Asmonean, a 19th century Jewish weekly, for an amusing letter to the editor by the board of the Cincinnati Jewish Hospital “clearing up” that they were the first Jewish hospital incorporated in the United States.
[12] See the entry on Blumenthal from the Jewish Encyclopedia available at https://jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/3434-blumenthal-mark for more information.
[13] Jews’ Hospital Minutes of the Board of Directors December 5th, 1855. Arthur H. Aufses, Jr., MD Archives, Mount Sinai Hospital.
[14] With the publication of the first serious work on pathology, De Sedibus et causis morborum per anatomen indagatis “Of the seats and causes of diseases investigated through anatomy” in 1761 by Giovanni Battista Morgagni, the connection between anatomy and disease had just begun to solidify.
[15] King LS, Meehan MC. A history of the autopsy. A review. American Journal of Pathology. 1973 Nov;73(2):514-44.
[16] The Occident, Vol XIV, Nu. III, pg 128.




Truth be Told[1] Comments on Changing the Immutable: How Orthodox Judaism Rewrites its History by Marc B. Shapiro

Truth be Told[1] 
by Aryeh A. Frimer*
Comments on Changing the ImmutableHow Orthodox Judaism Rewrites its History by Marc B. Shapiro (Oxford – Portland, OR: The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2015).
*Rabbi Prof. Aryeh A. Frimer holds the Ethel and David Resnick Chair of Active Oxygen Chemistry at Bar Ilan University, Ramat Gan 5290002, Israel; email: Aryeh.Frimer@biu.ac.il. He has lectured and published widely on various aspects of “Women and Halakha;” see here. His most recent paper is: “Women, Kri’at haTorah and Aliyyot (with an Addendum on Partnership Minyanim),” Aryeh A. Frimer and Dov I. Frimer, Tradition, 46:4 (Winter, 2013), 67-238, available online here.
            I found R. Prof. Marc Shapiro’s new book Changing the Immutable a fascinating read and very hard to put down. The first seven chapters deal with censorship of halakhic and philosophical works, while the eighth focuses on lying and misrepresentation in pesak. As we know from his previous works, Shapiro has a very fluid writing style and the subject matter is always well researched. He does his best to be honest, unbiased and complete in his presentation. He is, moreover, intrigued with exploring the limits of the traditional consensus, which makes for some captivating reading. Yet, despite all these wonderful qualities – or perhaps, because of them, I found the present volume particularly unsettling and disconcerting.
R. Jacob J Schacter’s classic article “Facing the Truths of History” had already sensitized me to the fact that publishers censor and even rewrite portions of the books they bring to press.[2] They do so because they find some of their author’s positions “unacceptable” – views which don’t fit the publishers’ or the intended reader’s “party line.” That such censorship continues unabashedly in the 21st century is disappointing, but then “there is no shame anymore.” But these are, by and large, sins of omission; somehow, with that I could live.
            But what I found particularly troubling with Changing the Immutable was the last chapter, which deals with lying in pesak. After going through the many examples Shapiro cites, the reader is left with one clear impression. One sometimes needs to be careful about trusting a Posek, since he may well be misrepresenting something in his ruling. It could be the source and authority of the prohibition. For example, is the prohibition based on a biblical commandment (positive or negative), rabbinic edict, custom or mere public policy (slippery slope) considerations? Alternatively, the expressed reason may not be the real grounds for the prohibition. In addition, the application may be much broader than halakhically permitted. To my mind these are shocking revelations: these are not sins of omission but commission; the perpetrators are scholars and religious leaders; and these deviations constitute intellectual dishonesty at its worst.
Our author is not insensitive to this dissonance. In an attempt to explain how these scholars justify not being fully honest in pesak, Shapiro writes in the last two pages of the book (pp. 284-285) about “redefining truth.” He indicates that these decisors see nothing wrong in what they are doing, since their ultimate goal is the “higher good”. As they see it, they have ultimately prevented their respective communities and congregants from sinning and deviating from the proper path of shemirat mitsvot. The fact that these scholars have bent the truth, and distorted Jewish law in the process, is of lesser importance. The ends in these cases, justify the means.
It is with these jarring observations that the book comes to an abrupt end, without any further comment or soul-searching. This is despite the fact that on page 239ff, Shapiro brings one citation from Hazal after another about the centrality of truth, and the seriousness of the sin of lying. After all, the Torah itself commands us: “mi-Devar sheker tirhak” – “From untruthfulness, distance thyself” (Exodus 23:7). If what the author writes in the last chapter is true, then Hazal’s eloquent statements about the importance of honesty have become nothing but a mockery. It raises serious moral questions with insufficient and unsatisfying answers. How are we now supposed to educate our children and talmidim as to the cardinal nature of truth and truthfulness?! How are we to live with such a clash between theory and practice?
In the course of our own study of Women’s Tefilla Groups, my brother R. Prof. Dov Frimer and I researched misrepresentation in pesak in the context of women’s issues.[3] Many leading Rabbis were deeply and justifiably concerned that some of the feminist practices introduced were ultimately “bad for the Jews” on public policy grounds.[4] But instead of saying so clearly, some rabbis adduced reasons that were not halakhically sound. Our own research has led us to the clear conclusion that the vast majority of the gedolim do not condone this type of misrepresentation or that discussed in the last chapter of Changing the Immutable. Giving an erroneous ruling – despite one’s good intentions, or even misstating the reason or source for a prohibition, violates the prohibition “mi-Devar sheker tirhak“, if not a variety of other issurim.
We begin our discussion of this issue with the famous Pesak Din (halakhic ruling) promulgated by a conference of rabbis who met in Michalowce Hungary in 1865. This edict initially signed by twenty-five leading rabbinic figures and subsequently by many more, ruled that nine practices (including, inter alia, synagogue choirs, sermons in the vernacular, synagogues weddings, absence of a central bima, canonical robes for the Hazan) were halakhically forbidden. Leading rabbis Moses Schick and Esriel Hildesheimer and many of their colleagues refused to sign. The fundamental claim of Rabbis Schick and Hildesheimer was that, contrary to the impression given by the Pesak Din, the only grounds for some of the edicts were public policy (mi-gdar milta) – not halakhic – considerations.[5] The term “Pesak Din” (legal ruling) was in fact a conscious misnomer, an attempt to hide the truth, and, hence, a flagrant deviation from Jewish law with which they could take no part. R. Schick also argued that, since the Pesak Din was promulgated by a Jewish court, it violated bal tosif, adding a mitsva to the Torah.[6]
Similarly, R. Zvi Hirsch Chajes[7] argues that it is forbidden to call a rabbinic edict a biblical prohibition because it violates not only bal tosif but also mi-devar sheker tirhak. Similarly, R. Chayim Hirschensohn[8] charges those rabbis who forbid women to become involved in politics with violating both bal tosif and lying. R. Chaim Soloveitchik of Brisk[9], maintains that both Ra’avad and Rambam agree that “mi-devar sheker tirhak” forbids a posek from claiming that a rabbinic injunction is biblical. R. Jacob Israel Kanievsky,[10] refuting the suggestion that it is forbidden to take part in elections in the secular State of Israel, writes: “…And your Honor should know that even to be zealous, it is forbidden to teach Torah not according to the halakha (Avot V:8), and that which is not true will not succeed at all.” R. Haim David Halevi[11] prohibits a posek from misrepresenting halakha and/or giving an erroneous reason for a prohibition for two basic reasons: (1) the biblical prohibition of “mi-devar sheker tirhak” and (2) a total loss of trust in rabbinic authority would result should the truth become known (see more below). [See also the related opinions of Rabbis Ehrenberg, Rogeler and Sobel cited below.]
As Prof. Shapiro documents in Changing the Immutable, some posekim dissent. They argued, on various grounds, that “mi-devar sheker tirhak” is not applicable to cases where halakha is misrepresented so as to prevent future violations of Jewish law. Other scholars argue that the dispensation to modify the truth in order to maintain peace (me-shanim mi-penei ha-shalomYevamot 65b) also applies to misrepresenting halakha in order to maintain peace between kelal Yisrael and the Almighty. Yet others maintain that if a posek believes an action should be prohibited because of mi-gdar milta, he may misrepresent the reason for or source of a prohibition; since there will be no change in the legal outcome, mi-devar sheker tirhak does not apply.[12] Finally, some have argued that mi-devar sheker tirhak only refers to lying in court.[13]
But these arguments have been seriously and vigorously challenged. Thus, R. Joshua Menahem Mendel Ehrenberg[14] demonstrates that the consensus of posekim – rishonim and aharonim – is that mi-devar sheker tirhak applies in all cases, inside court and out. R. Ehrenberg further argues that this is true even if it is intended to promote a religious purpose (ve-afilu li-devar mitsva). Similarly, R. Elijah [ben Samuel] of Lublin[15] chastises a colleague for lying in a decision, even though his intentions were noble. R. Ovadiah Yosef[16] discusses at length whether a judge, maintaining a minority position on a three judge panel, can lie and say “I do not know what to rule,” – so that two more judges will be added to the panel and his minority opinion will have a chance to become the majority view; he concludes that it is forbidden. R. Solomon Sobel[17] explicitly states that me-shanim mi-penei ha-shalom only allows one to change the facts, not the halakha. Both R. Jacob Ettlinger and R. Reuben Margaliot[18] maintain that me-shanim mi-penei ha-shalom allows one only to obfuscate by using language which can be understood in different ways, but not to lie; hence, misrepresenting halakhic reasons or sources would also be forbidden.
Also unmentioned is the long list of posekim (including the Radba”z)[19] who maintain that even if one is theoretically permitted to misrepresent Halakha, under certain unique circumstances – one is nevertheless forbidden to do so in practice. This is because “the truth will out.”   Not only will this revelation ultimately lead to a terrible hillul Hashem, but it will undermine peoples’ trust in the rabbinic establishment. In this regard R. Benjamin Lau has observed:[20]
The rabbi is expected to know and present the various aspects of each issue and not to conceal those aspects that are inconsistent with his own point of view. If a rabbi is untrue to the sources and reaches his decision without taking account of conflicting views, he will be seen to be untrustworthy. And a lack of trust between a rabbi and his community of questioners will drive a wedge between that community and the Torah overall. Stating the truth, of course, does not require the decisor to remain neutral; his role requires him to reach a decision one way or the other. But the decision must be reached through disclosure, not concealment, of the alternatives….. Now, when everyone has access to the [Bar Ilan] Responsa Project data base and Google provides answers to all imaginable questions, everyone can check every responsum and examine its trustworthiness. A rabbi who rules in an oversimplified way, whether strictly or leniently, in a area of halakhic complexity will be caught as untrustworthy.
Having lived through the crises and confrontations of women’s prayer groups, women on religious councils, women in communal leadership roles and women’s aliyyot – I can testify that there is great need for both in-depth knowledge and truthfulness. The “hillul Hashem and loss of trust” argument is not just hype – but painfully all too accurate! Many of the rabbis in the 1970s lost control of the religious leadership of their communities because they were unprepared or unwilling to deal with the challenges honestly and head on. Many rabbis simply tried to stonewall the situation, while others were not forthright about the real reason for forbidding such practices. As previously noted, the Rabbis may well have been correct that many of the feminist practices introduced were halakhically unsound or “bad for the Jews” on a variety of public policy grounds.[21] But instead of saying so clearly (as Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik zt”l had urged and himself practiced), some rabbis waffled, while others prevaricated. But the halakhic truth quickly became known – a consequence of the “information age.” And as a result, many balebatim lost trust in the religious leadership as a whole. For them the conclusion was simply: “Everything boils down to politics.” 
            It is, therefore, critically important to reiterate that the cases cited by our author, exemplify neither pesak in general, nor the consensus view of the posekim. It is forbidden to misrepresent in halakhic rulings as a matter of law and policy.  In essence, then, Prof Shapiro’s scholarly and well-documented book presents the reader with a most fascinating review of an approach within halakhic decision making, which has been rejected by mainstream pesak. Indeed, such cases need to be actively addressed if they are to be uprooted.
Response by Marc B. Shapiro
I understand why Professor Frimer is troubled by what I wrote, and to a large extent my conclusions diverge from his own. All I would say is that the matter is complex, and rather than attempt to simplify matters, as I feel Frimer has done, we must attempt to understand how the same Sages who spoke about the importance of truth could at times countenance departure from it. This is a challenge that requires sensitivity and nuance, and appreciation of changing times and values. When Frimer sees a text that permits false attribution, he sees prevarication and hypocrisy. But a historically attuned outlook would seek to understand rather than condemn. Ironically, it is Frimer who is judging the Sages and decisors, because if their ideas do not conform to his understanding then these ideas are regarded by him as problematic.
Thus, Frimer cites the famous 1865 pesak din of Michalowce and tells us that R. Moses Schick and R. Esriel Hildesheimer opposed it since they saw it as departing from the truth. While their position is certainly significant, what about the fact that among Hungarian rabbis they were a minority, and most of the leading Hungarian rabbis supported the pesak? How is my argument refuted by citing Rabbis Schick and Hildesheimer if they were opposed by most of their colleagues? Doesn’t the fact that most of the Hungarian rabbis opposed Rabbis Schick and Hildesheimer support my position? 
As for the various rabbinic opinions cited by Frimer, I don’t deny that these opinions exist, and in my book I refer to Frimer’s famous article on women’s prayer groups in which he cites these opinions. But I also make the point that there is an alternative tradition which allows much more leeway for authorities to at times diverge from the truth. I also believe, contrary to Frimer, that this is a mainstream position. Since this position is held by R. Ovadiah Yosef and R. Hayyim Kanievsky, I don’t see how it is possible for one to state that it is not a mainstream position.
The point of the chapter, however, was not to advocate for one position or the other, but to focus on the alternative tradition, the existence of which is more or less suppressed today. I was explicit that my aim was to show how far some were willing to go in sanctioning deviations from the truth, and I indicate that there are views in opposition to these. However, my intent was to study the views of those with a “liberal” perspective on the importance of truth. It is this tradition that I wished to explore, and to rescue it, as it were, from the well-intentioned apologetics. I never state that this is the only authentic position. On the contrary, one can find the opposite perspective presented in numerous articles. This is why I thought it was important to present alternative views, from the Talmud until the present, views which I think show that there is a rabbinic conception of the Noble Lie.
I also must dispute the following statement by Frimer: “R. Joshua Menahem Mendel Ehrenberg demonstrates that the consensus of posekim – rishonim and aharonim – is that mi-devar sheker tirhak applies in all cases, inside court and out. R. Ehrenberg further argues that this is true even if it is intended to promote a religious purpose.” How can Frimer state that R. Ehrenberg “demonstrates” such a thing? What R. Ehrenberg does is present an argument, and everyone can evaluate its cogency. The fact is that numerous authorities do not accept R. Ehrenberg’s position, which means that they would not agree that he has proven his case.
To Frimer, and others like him who have the same reaction after reading chapter 7, I can only say that modern views of how to understand texts, and what we today regard as truth, cannot be used as a measure with which to judge people who lived in a very different time and had a very different understanding of these sorts of matters. It is their understanding that I seek to explore, rather than foisting my own value judgments upon them. Unlike Frimer, who is involved in halakhic writing and attempting to influence the community in religious matters, I write from a more “objective” perspective, without such concerns. As such, while Frimer wishes to “uproot” what he regards as unacceptable views of certain poskim. I seek to understand the phenomenon and to describe it.
When, on p. 284, I speak about redefining truth, I am not speaking about poskim per se but about how to understand the entire phenomenon that I have documented in the book. The question is how does the importance of truth coexist with what we have seen, and it is in this context that I discuss how truth need not be seen as equivalent to factual or historical truth.
I agree with Frimer that none of the great poskim supported lying in pesak as a normative option on a regular basis. Yet as I have already indicated,  I believe that there is a tradition that allows for not being frank at certain times, when it is thought that other values are at stake. In the book I state that we should understand this position in a sympathetic fashion even if it is at odds with how today we generally approach matters.
Frimer asks how are we supposed to educate our children and students as to the importance of truth and truthfulness if what I say is correct. This is a good question with which educators need to struggle, but it is not a refutation of what I have written. If my position is correct, the world will not collapse. It will just be one more Torah matter, alongside Amalek, yefat toar, slavery, homosexuality, etc., that at certain times is not in line with contemporary values.
Here are some more comments relevant to the issue of truth.
1. Amichai Markowitz called my attention to a talmudic text that I overlooked. Nedarim 23b states: “The Tanna has intentionally obscured the law, in order that vows should not be lightly treated.” This relates to the issue of the truth not being made available to all. See also Kovetz Iggerot Hazon Ish, vol. 2, no. 78, that one should not reveal to the masses that the Sages forbade things that the Torah permitted.[22]
2. R. Joseph Ibn Caspi writes that at times it is appropriate for members of the intellectual elite to lie.[23] This explains how Joseph lied to his brothers when he accused them of being spies (Gen. 42:9). In support of this view Ibn Caspi cites both Maimonides and Aristotle.[24] The mention of Maimonides no doubt refers to the latter’s notion of “necessary beliefs”, but it is not clear where Ibn Caspi got his quote from Aristotle, since as far as I can determine Aristotle says no such thing.[25]
3. R. Abraham Arbel writes as follows[26]:
ואם מצא לנכון המגדל עז לשבח חכם כהרמב”ם שלא שקר והיה אמיתי, משמע דפשיטא ליה שגם אצל חכם בדרגתו אפשר למצוא שישקר משום כבודו.
R. Arbel also adds the following passage which I am sure will be very troubling to Frimer (as Frimer rejects the notion that “one sometimes needs to be careful about trusting a Posek”). R. Arbel’s words should be understood in line with the many sources I cite in the last chapter of my book.
וע”ע טהרת ישראל (סי’ קפה אות סו) בדין אשה שאמרה שהחכם טהר לה הכתם ועתה מכחיש אותה החכם לומר שלא שאלה אותו, דחישינן שהחכם רואה עתה שטעה שטהר, ובוש לומר שטעה, ולכן משקר עתה לומר שלא שאלה אותו. וכ”כ בהפלאה (קונ’ אחרון סי קטו סק”א( שהחכם לא נאמן להכחיש אשה, שאומרת שהחכם טהר, כשהכתם לפנינו והוא טמא, שהרי הוא נוגע בדבר שהרי טעה.
4. R. Ovadiah Yosef stated that if X tells you something he wrote, you can tell others that you read it in X’s book, and this is not considered a lie.[27]
5. In Changing the Immutable, p. 253, I cite a passage from Devarim Rabbah which states that for the sake of peace, even “Scripture itself” recorded something false. I should have also cited Midrash Tanhuma 96:7, which is even more striking, attributing the falsehood directly to God (as opposed to merely speaking of “Scripture”):
ארשב”ג גדול הוא השלום שהכתיב [שכתב] הקב”ה דברים בתורה שלא היו אלא בשביל השלום.
6. Let me offer another example of censorship in halakhic matters, the sort of thing that Frimer claims must be battled against and “uprooted” for the sake of Torah truth.[28] Here is page 141 from R. Yitzhak Zilberstein’s and R. Moshe Rothschild’s Torat ha-Yoledet.

The matter dealt with is whether a husband can be in the delivery room. The authors quote the opinion that if there is a need the husband can be in the room. In note 2, R. Moshe Feinstein, Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh Deah II, no. 75, is quoted as follows:
הנה אם יש צורך, איני רואה איסור. אבל אסור לו להסתכל ביציאת הולד ממש . . .
However, if you look at the actual text of Iggerot Moshe, what he says is something different.
הנה אם יש צורך איני רואה איסור ואף בלא צורך איני רואה איסור, אבל אסור לו להסתכל ביציאת הולד ממש . . .
I have underlined the words that are deleted by Torat ha-Yoledet. This deletion allows them to present R. Moshe Feinstein as saying that only if there is a need for the husband to be in the room can be there. Yet R. Moshe explicitly states that even if there is no “need”, he can still remain with his wife.

I know that there are some who are thinking that I am making a big deal out of nothing, and that it must have been an accident that the words were deleted as that no one would dare to purposely alter what R. Moshe wrote. I am sorry to say that this is not the case. Here are two pages from R. Pesach Eliyahu Falk’s Levushah shel Torah.[29]

From it we see that someone asked R. Zilberstein about the words that were deleted, and R. Zilberstein did not say that they were deleted in error. On the contrary, he tells the questioner that the words were deleted on purpose, after consultation with “gedolei ha-poskim”. In other words, these poskim disagreed with R. Moshe and therefore instructed R. Zilberstein that when he quoted Iggerot Moshe he should censor R. Moshe’s words so that people should not learn the extent of R. Moshe’s lenient view. After all that I have written in my book, I don’t think people will be surprised by this. Frimer, however, who has assured us that this sort of thing is not “mainstream”, and indeed is “forbidden”, will have to explain how it is that a respected posek like R. Zilberstein, acting on the instruction of other great poskim, could adopt such an approach, an approach which stands as a refutation of Frimer’s point.
As I have said already, I am not claiming that this sort of distortion is an everyday phenomenon. But I do claim that many poskim believe that they have the authority to alter the truth when they think that this is necessary. We can’t pretend that the texts I have cited don’t exist.
7. In his post Frimer writes: “R. Elijah [ben Samuel] of Lublin  chastises a colleague for lying in a decision, even though his intentions were noble.” I don’t think the word “chastises” is appropriate in this case. R. Elijah disagrees with the other rabbi, but the disagreement is not strident. For example, R. Elijah writes as follows in Yad Eliyahu, no. 62:
ע”ד אשר האריך רום מעלתו בלשונו בשפת אמת להעמיד שפת שקר במקומי אני עומד שאינו כדאי להיות רגיל בכך ואף שמותר בו מאיזה טעם שיהיה.
8. In the next issue of Masorah le-Yosef my article on “necessary beliefs” will appear. In this article I discuss how Maimonides and other figures say things that do not reflect their true opinion, but are merely “necessary beliefs”, i.e., “beliefs” that the masses should accept but which are not really true at all. If these authorities think that the masses can be fed false ideas when it comes to theology, why should halakhah be any different?

9. See R. Mordechai Eliasburg, Shevil ha-Zahav (Warsaw, 1897), p. 27-28, who claims that both Nahmanides and R. Jacob Emden recorded things in their writings that they did not really believe.

10. R. Chaim Sunitzky called my attention to R. Israel Weltz, Divrei Yisrael, vol. 3, no. 170, who doesn’t see such a problem with false stories if they lead people in a good direction.

.אין זה נורא כ”כ בספורי מעשיות כאלה כשהכוונה היא לטובה ללמוד ממנה מוסר ודרכי הי”ת
And now for some comic relief. A few weeks ago Ezra Glinter reviewed my book for the Forward. See here.
He used this opportunity to take some hits at the haredi world, focusing on matters that are not mentioned in the book. Rabbi Avi Shafran, who is paid to respond to this sort of thing, penned his own piece for the Forward available here.
The comedy starts in the first two paragraphs which read:
Psst! I’ve got a secret to share. It’s from deep inside the Orthodox Jewish world. Come closer… Okay, here it is: Orthodoxy changes!
It’s not much of a secret, actually. At least in these here parts. But it seems to be an unfamiliar concept for Marc Shapiro, a University of Scranton professor and author of the recent book, “Changing the Immutable: How Orthodox Judaism Rewrites Its History.”
It is obvious that Shafran has never even looked at my book and is only basing his comments on what appears in Glinter’s review. Those who have read the book know that a major theme of it is precisely how Orthodoxy changes. In fact, there is no one in the world today whose scholarship is more associated with the thesis that Orthodoxy changes than me. Much of the criticism of me is on precisely this point, that I have exaggerated the amount of change. Yet here Shafran comes and says that I am ignorant about how Orthodoxy changes. This is what I mean by comic relief.
Shafran then writes:
If a biography of Bertrand Russell can choose to elide the great philosopher’s serial marital infidelities and not be accused of rewriting the past, a hagiography of a great rabbi should certainly be permitted to overlook judgments he made with the best of intentions that in retrospect might seem misguided to some today. Such acts of civility are at times portrayed as scandalous by Shapiro and his reviewer.
A biography of Russel that chooses to omit his marital infidelities would indeed be rightly accused of rewriting the past. As for the second part of the sentence, I agree that a hagiography can leave out material of the sort Shafran mentions, but that is because it is a hagiography! If it intended to be a biography, then no, it cannot overlook mistaken judgments made by the subject, or else it ceases to be biography. I also do not think that it is an act of civility to refrain from writing about such mistaken judgments (as for example, R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg’s early misjudgment of the Nazi regime).
Shafran provides a few examples of how practice in Orthodoxy has changed, none of which I disagree with. But then again, my book has nothing to do with this. He writes:
One opinion in the Talmud, for example, permits fowl and milk to be cooked together and eaten. Just try ordering milk-braised chicken in your local kosher eatery these days; they’ll sic the mashgiach on you in a Borough Park moment. Men using mirrors was once forbidden as a “womanly” act, a once-true assessment that, for most Orthodox men today, is no longer considered applicable.
Let us say that a new edition of the Talmud was published that deleted the lines that tell us that one opinion permitted fowl and milk to be cooked and eaten together? Would Shafran be OK with this? I assume not, and it is thus unfortunate that he doesn’t know that it is precisely this sort of censorship that my book is focused on. What we have here is not only criticism without having read the book, but criticism without having any clue as to what the book is about. 
And then, to top off the comic relief, Shafran ends his piece as follows:

“Why is that so hard for Orthodoxy’s critics to understand?”

I have been called some different things in my life, but this is the first time I have been referred to as one of “Orthodoxy’s critics”.

Let me also add that Changing the Immutable has sold very well in the haredi world, and this is not surprising since it is not an anti-haredi book at all.

[1] AAF would like to thank Dov I. Frimer, Shael I. Frimer, David A. Kessler and Joel B. Wolowelsky for their insightful comments and suggestions on previous drafts.
[2] R. Jacob J. Schacter, “Facing the Truths of History,” Torah u-Madda Journal, 8 [1998-1999]: pp. 200-273.
[3] Aryeh A. Frimer and Dov I. Frimer, “Women’s Prayer Services: Theory and Practice. Part 1 – Theory,” Tradition, 32:2 (Winter 1998), pp. 5-118. PDF available online
here. See in particular Addendum, part 6.
[4] See our discussion in Frimer and Frimer, supra note 3, Section E therein.
[5] R. Moses Schick in Likutei Teshuvot Hatam Sofer, R. Israel Stern, ed. (London, 1965), sec. 82, pp. 73-75; Meir Hildesheimer, “She’eilot u-Teshuvot Maharam Schick,” Tsefunot, 2:2(6) (Tevet 5750), pp. 87-95, at p. 93; Yona Emanuel, “Me’a Shana lePetirat haRav Azriel Hildesheimer Zatsal,” haMa’ayn, XXXIX, 4 (Tammuz 5759), pp. 1-7, “Al Kinus haRabbanim be-Mikhalovitch” pp. 2-4; Michael K. Silber, “The Emergence of Ultra-Orthodoxy: The Invention of a Tradition,” In The Uses of Tradition, Jack Wertheimer, ed. (New York, Jewish Theological Seminary, 1992), p. 23-84; Mordechai Eliav, “Mekomo shel Rav Azriel Hildesheimer be-Ma’avak al Demutah shel Yahadutr Hungariah,” Zion 27 (1962), 59-86; Nethanel Katzburg, “Pesak Din shel Michalovitch 5726,” in Perakim be-Toldot ha-Hevrah ha-Yehudit be-Yemei ha-Beinayim u-be-Et ha-Hadashah, Emanuel Etkes and Yosef Salmon, eds. (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1980), 273-286; Jacob Katz, The Unhealed Breach: The Secession of Orthodox Jewry from the General Community in Hungary and Germany (Hebrew), Jerusalem, 1994 – see especially Chapter 8.
[6] See Frimer and Frimer, supra note 3, Addendum, part 5.
[7]  R. Zvi Hirsch Chajes, Darkei Hora’asiman 6, first footnote,
[8]  R. Chayim Hirschensohn Resp. Malki baKodesh, II, sec. 4, p. 13.
[9] Cited in R. Zvi [Hershel] Schachter, Nefesh haRav (Jerusalem: Reishit Yerushalayyim, 1994), p.178.
[10] R. Jacob Israel Kanievsky, Keraina deIggarta, letter 203, pp. 219-220.
[11] Responsum to Aryeh A. Frimer, dated 7 Shevat 5756 and published in RespMayyim Hayyim, III, sec. 55.
[12] R. Chaim Kanievsky, Masekhet Kutim, 1:14, Me-taher, note 30, and conversation with Aryeh A. Frimer (February 20, 1995),
[13] R. Zelig Epstein, in a conversation with Aryeh A. Frimer and Noach Dear (March 8, 1996). R. Jerucham Fishel Perlau, Commentary to Rav Sa’adia Gaon’s Sefer HaMitzvot, I, p. 156b.
[14] R. Joshua Menahem Mendel Ehrenberg, Resp. Devar Yehoshua, I, addendum to sec. 19, no. 6 (see also V, Y.D. sec 12). See also R. Nahum Yavruv, Niv Sefatayyim (Jerusalem, 1989) Niv Sefatayyim, kelal 1; R. Eliezer Judah Waldenberg, Resp. Tsits Eliezer 15:12:2.
[15] R. Elijah Rogeler, Resp. Yad Eliyahu, sec. 61 and 62
[16] R. Ovadiah Yosef, Resp. Yabia Omer, II, H.M., sec. 3
[17] R. Solomon Sobel, Salma Hadasha, Mahadura Tinyana, Haftarat Toledot; cited in R. Jacob Yehizkiyah Fisch, Titen Emet leYa’akov (Jerusalem, 1982), sec. 5, no. 36.
[18] R. Jacob Ettlinger, Arukh leNer, Yevamot 65b, s.v. she-Ne’emar avikha tsiva” and “Ko tomeru leYosef,” and R. Reuben Margaliot, Kunteres Hasdei Olam, sec. 1061, at the end of his edition of Sefer Hasidim (Mossad haRav Kook: Jerusalem, 5724). See also R. Moses David Maccabbi Leventhal, “Shinui beDevar haShalom,” Zohar, 3 (Spring 5760), pp. 49-64.
[19] R. Yehuda Herzl Henkin, Resp. Benei Vanim, I, sec. 37, no. 12, argues that such misrepresentation most often results in gossip, hate, unlawful leniencies in other areas, hillul Hashem, and a total loss of trust in rabbinic authority should the truth become known. (This despite the fact that R. Y.H. Henkin maintains that when a posek upgrades a prohibition for a just cause, there is no prohibition of either bal Tosif or lying). Similar views are expressed by Resp. Torah liShma, sec. 371; R. Moses Jehiel Weiss, Beit Yehezkel, p. 77; R. Abraham Isaac haKohen Kook, Orah Mishpat, no. 111 (pp. 117-120) and 112 (pp. 120-129); R. Joseph Elijah Henkin, Teshuvot Ivra, sec. 52, no. 3 (in Kitvei haGri Henkin, II); R. Haim David Halevi, responsum to Aryeh A. Frimer, dated 7 Shevat 5756 – published in Resp. Mayyim Hayyim, III, sec.55; and R. David Feinstein, conversation with Aryeh A. Frimer and Dov I. Frimer, March 19, 1995. See also the commentary of Radbaz to M.T., Melakhim 6:3, where even normally permitted lying is forbidden lest it result in hillul Hashem should the truth be discovered. Similarly, in discussing Sanhedrin 29a and the cause of Adam and Eve’s sin, R. Hanokh Zundel, Eits Yosefad loc., s.v. Ma,” comments that one must be particularly careful how a stringency and its rationale are formulated, for if no distinction is drawn between a stringency and the original ordinance, any error found in the stringency may lead the masses to believe that there is an error in the original ordinance itself.
[20] R. Benjamin Lau, “The Challenge of Halakhic Innovation,” Meorot 8 Tishrei 5771, pp 43-57 at pp. 45-46, available online here.
[21] See our discussion in Section E of Frimer and Frimer, supra note 3.
[22] It could be that the Hazon Ish would not be opposed if this information was revealed in a responsible way. I say this since his language is
והבא להכריז בין המון העם כי חכמים גזרו עלינו דברים שהתורה לא אסרתן כונתו ידועה . . . והתוצאות ידועות
(Emphasis added) This might mean that it is only objectionable if someone makes a big deal out of the fact that a certain prohibition is only rabbinic
[23] Mishneh Kesef (Cracow, 1906), vol. 2, to Gen 42:12 (pp. 93-94).
[24] His quote of Aristotle is: נכון לגדול הנפש שיכזכ בהיות זה הכרחי
[25] See Jane S. Zembaty, “Aristotle on Lying,” Journal of the History of Philosophy 31 (1993), pp. 7-29.
[26] Ahoti Kalah (Jerusalem, 2007), p. 149.
[27] Eliyahu Sheetrit, Rabbenu (Jerusalem, 2014), p. 266.
[28] This example, and also R. Falk’s Levushah shel Torah, were called to my attention by R. Yonason Rosman.
[29] (Jerusalem, 2007), vol. 2, pp. 783-784.



Dorshei Yichudcha: A Portrait of Professor Elliot R. Wolfson

Dorshei Yichudcha:
A Portrait of Professor Elliot R.
Wolfson[1]
by Joey Rosenfeld
Joey Rosenfeld is a
psychotherapist in St. Louis where he recently moved with his family. He
recently published his first sefer, sc’hok
d’yitzchak
on the Kabbalistic theme butzina d’kardinusa, or darkened light.
More of his writing can be found online at Residual Speech.
לאו כל
מוחא סביל דא[2]
Tasked with the formidable project of recounting Franz Rosenzweig’s life, Emmanuel Levinas apologized in advance
for speaking, as well, about Rosenzweig’s opus, The Star of Redemption. The reason for this, Levinas wrote, was not due to lack of distinction, rather it would be nearly impossible to separate the man from his work.[3] This sentiment can be applied equally to Elliot R. Wolfson and his vast oeuvre. Professor Wolfson’s breathtaking breadth of scholarship – starting from his Through a Speculum that Shines: Vision and Imagination in Medieval Jewish Mysticism[4] to his recent Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania[5] – can be said to touch upon every field within the Humanities, as well as significant areas within the Sciences. Trained in Philosophy and the field of Jewish Studies, with a focus on Jewish Mysticism, Wolfson’s erudition, astonishing at times, covers diverse fields such as Hermeneutics, Anthropology, Sociology, Bible, Literary
Criticism, Gender Theory, Psychology and Psychoanalysis, Poetics, Neuroscience, and Comparative Religious studies.[6] While many authors share a similar output as that of Wolfson; ten books, four edited volumes, and tens of essays; few share the unique and apparent unity-of-thought that flows through his body of work. Whether it is an in-depth analysis of occularcentrism within Medieval Jewish mysticism, the dynamics of truth as refracted through the temporal presence of beginning-middle-end, or the Eros of poesies and the poesies of Eros in Jewish Mysticism and Philosophical hermeneutics, Wolfson’s presence as an author, delicately weaving together a tapestry of sources is felt through his texts. This presence, however, is present through its absence. Wolfson occludes himself through and within his texts, thus coloring each of his works with the dialectical dance of concealment and disclosure. Through a speculum of sources, culled from all arenas of thought – ranging from the thirteenth-century masters of Ecstatic Kabbalah to the current leaders of Haredi-Mysticism; from the annals of Greek Philosophy to the most current Hermeneutic- Phenomenologists – Wolfson speaks through and beyond the language of his sources.
Born on the 19th of Kislev,[7] a day pregnant with mystical significance within the Hasidic community of Chabad,[8] Elliot R. Wolfson was raised in a traditional Orthodox Jewish home. With an Orthodox rabbi as his father who was both a pulpit rabbi and a Rosh Yeshiva,[9] young Elliot Wolfson “was surrounded by Jewish textuality” and “was exposed as a teenager to the Hasidic works of Nachman of Bratslav and Chabad. And both of those sects were quite present physically in my environment, so it wasn’t just book study, but I interacted with Hasidim from both of these groups. And that was really my initial entry into kabbalah, or Jewish mysticism,” as he explained in a 2012 interview.[10] Beginning with the Tanya at age thirteen, Wolfson recalls his first experience with the texts of Breslov at a Tikkun Leil Shavuot at the age of fifteen. After that, he began attending classes of the well-known mashpiah of Breslov, Rabbi Zvi Aryeh Rosenfeld.[11] At sixteen, Wolfson began studying Rav Kook’s Orot ha-Kodesh, along with the various works of The Ramchal, including Kelach Pitchei Hokhmah, Derekh ha-Shem, and Da’at Tevunot, etc., and a year later, at age seventeen, he began studying the works of The Maharal.[12]
Wolfson spent three semesters at Yeshiva University, where he had the privilege of hearing Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, at his “public lectures, which were masterful in their philosophical exegesis of Jewish texts. Indeed, I would have to say that it was from Soloveitchik that I drew inspiration for the possibility of rendering traditional sources in a philosophical key,” remembered Wolfson.[13] After his time at Yeshiva University, Wolfson transferred to a program at the CUNY Graduate Center in conjunction with Queens College. It was there, under the tutelage of Professors Henry Wolz and Edith Wyschogrod that he first immersed himself in philosophical study. The relationship with Wyschogrod, whom Wolfson considers to be “one of my most important teachers,” opened up new vistas in the world of continental philosophy, and continued to bear fruits, even after her passing in 2009.[14] It was at CUNY Queens that Wolfson focused his studies to the fields of hermeneutics, phenomenology and existentialism; three registers of thought that would influence his subsequent foray into the field of Jewish mysticism.
After finishing his studies at CUNY Queens, Wolfson made the decision to pursue graduate studies at Brandeis University in the field of Jewish studies with a focus on Jewish mysticism. It was there, under the tutelage of Professors Alexander Altmann, Marvin Fox, and Michael Fishbane, that Wolfson completed his dissertation work on the thirteenth-century Spanish kabbalist Moses de Leon.[15] Regarding Wolfson’s dissertation, one can glean from the following anecdote the deep sense of hermeneutical secrecy already stirring. Wolfson recounts, “an episode that occurred in one of the doctoral qualifying exams. The topic was Perushei Ma’aseh Bere’shit and Perushei Ma’aseh Merkavah in twelfth- and thirteenth-century philosophic and kabbalistic literature. At the end of the exam Professor [Alexander] Altmann asked, “So Mr. Wolfson, what is the secret of the chariot according to Maimonides?” And I said, “The secret is that there is no secret,” and he clapped his hands as a sign of approval.”[16] His dissertation became his first published work, The Book of the Pomegranate: Moses de Leon’s Sefer ha-rimmon.[17] Upon the completion of his graduate work, Wolfson eventually joined the faculty at New York University’s Skirball Department of Hebrew and Judaic Studies in 1987, and was awarded the Judge Abraham Lieberman Professor of Hebrew Studies at New York University in 1993, where he served until early 2014, when he moved to California and currently serves as the Marsha and Jay Glazer professor of Jewish Studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara.
On a more personal note, I have been gifted the opportunity to form a close relationship with Professor Wolfson over the past few years. While he was still in New York, I had the chance to sit and learn on two separate occasions of which I would like to recall. Through the help of my dear friend, Menachem Butler, a meeting was set up in Professor Wolfson’s NYU office.[18] Having previously read numerous works of his, I was prepared to meet a removed and rightfully proud scholar. Entering into Professor Wolfson’s cramped office, I was immediately taken-aback by the sheer amount of books and seforim that lined the shelves, desk and window sills. What was most wonderful, however, was not the quantity of books, but the quality, the difference and the scope of the works scattering his office. On Wolfson’s desk one could find the most current in haredi kabbalah, Heideggerian studies, gender theory as well as recently published works of Hasidut and the students of The Vilna Gaon. These contradictory volumes were not organized by topic, rather they sat, interspersed, erasing the imaginary demarcations separating one stream of thought from its other.
Having prepared a ma’amar from Rav Yitzchak Hutner’s Pachad Yitzhak (Pesach 74) to study, we quickly descended into the textual landscape wherein I experienced, for the first time, the embodiment of what Rosenzweig called sprachdenken, or speech-thinking.[19] The text, in which Rav Hutner describes the constitutive lack within language, opened the door to the inherent gap between what Levinas refers to as the ‘saying’ and the ‘said’. The evasiveness of the perfect word, the impossibility of speech to say what it truly means to be saying, opened the conversation to various overlaps and influences that jumped out from the text before us. Unbeknownst to me, we had encountered one of the fundamental issues at play in Wolfson’s hermeneutics. What stands out most in my memory, however, is not the depth and fluidity of his thinking, but rather a seemingly insignificant incident that occurred during our learning. Having been asked to read the text, I stumbled with the reading of various words. These were not mistakes, in which the word could be misconstrued for a different out-of-context word; these were slight mispronunciations which in no way affected the meaning of the text. While reading, Wolfson, in his quiet and humble voice corrected my pronunciation to ensure that the word be read carefully and correctly. Only afterwards did I recognize the hyper-focus to detail that Professor Wolfson highlighted in his corrections. It is this insistence on the truth, the guardedness with which he approaches each and every text, which marks Wolfson’s works through and through. This attention, what Benjamin (quoting Malebranche) called “the natural prayer of the soul,” has enabled Wolfson to truly-read as he reads-truly.[20]
On another occasion, shortly before he left for the West Coast, I had the merit of accompanying Wolfson on his last pilgrimage to the gravesite of the late Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rav Menachem Mendel Schneerson, known as the ohel. Arriving at the ohel wherein lay the graves of the Rebbe and his predecessor Rav Yosef Yitzhak Schneerson, in what appeared to be a preparatory pause, Wolfson turned around and gazed at the graves of the holy women of Habad, Rebetzeins Chaya Mushka and  Shterna Sarah. Mid-gaze, Wolfson whispered, “She was the wife of the RaShab.” Those words are what I remember most. Uttered with a sense of melancholic yearning, I believe Wolfson was taken back to a space beyond memory, to a place where thinkers like Shalom Dov-Baer Schneerson walked the earth. After spending some time inside the ohel itself, Menachem and I left to give Professor Wolfson privacy with the giants who so deeply impacted his life’s work. Afterwards we sat down to learn a ma’amar from the RaShab,[21] chosen at random. Learning the text – which was written by the RaShab himself – we continuously came across the notation ve’chu, similar to “etc.,” signifying the absence of some extended textual statement. What bothered Professor Wolfson was that seemingly, everything that needed to be expressed was already written. There was no apparent reason for the text to end in the open-ended manner of ve’chu. As Wolfson later explained to me, “Usually this notation is used as an abbreviation so that one does not have to repeat the conclusion of a biblical verse or a rabbinic dictum. The author assumes that the reader can fill in the unstated text. But in the Habad context this notation refers to the inference that the reader must make from what is stated, not a marker of something previously stated.”[22]
Professor Wolfson’s impact on the field on Jewish studies cannot be overstated. In a practical sense, Wolfson has taught and mentored numerous students who have subsequently become significant scholars in the field of Jewish Mysticism.[23] Professor Daniel Abrams, an early Wolfson student, has noted the multifaceted significance of Wolfson’s scholarship as an, “approach to mythopoesis (that) explores such major topics as gender and ontology, entering into dialogue with studies and concepts from philosophy, religious studies (and comparative religions), theology and feminist theory… This history and the various text editions and major studies Wolfson has published in recent years have unfolded into a very complex matrix of methodologies which are unique to his writing and which build upon various disciplines to which few have sufficient access. From rabbinic and kabbalistic anthropology to the ontological and symbolic status of the feminine, Wolfson has shown the tacit assumptions that define the hermeneutic horizons of kabbalistic literature.”[24]
In addition, the various themes that mark Wolfson’s scholarship reverberate throughout much of the current literature and scholarship on Jewish mysticism. His constant presence at conferences and various publications testifies to the massive impact he has had in the field. On a more personal level, his vast contribution to the study of Jewish mysticism is twofold. On the one hand, Wolfson has consistently shown a continuous flow of thought, uninterrupted by the temporal fissures between one publication to the next. Indeed, as it will be shown below, one could posit certain ideas that seem to serve as the foundational stone, the even ha-shisiya, throughout all of Professor Wolfson’s scholarship. On the other hand, Wolfson manifests the true rabbinic ideal of creativity, or hiddush within each work, thus creating a stream-of-thought that is coincidental in its opposition as it is oppositional in its coincidence. Regarding the latter aspect of Wolfson’s thought, Professor Jonathan Garb makes note of “[t]he sheer scope of hiddush, of innovation, in theory, in comparative study and in textual analysis, eclipses any sense of continuity. One may say that there are two ideal types of scholars: One who unfold their earlier conceptions, even if in interesting and deep ways, and those who constantly create new domains, thus becoming one of the founders of discourse that Michel Foucault has both described and personified.”[25] In agreement with Garb’s perception of Wolfson’s capacity to unfold new creases within Jewish studies and beyond, I respectfully disagree with the notion that “the sheer scope of hiddush” diminishes, or “eclipses any sense of continuity.” Wolfson’s scholarship is marked by a unique form of radical hermeneutics which creates a repetition that is interrupted by the incessant sense of re-creation.[26]
This radical creativity, which includes the grafting together of disciplines ordinarily assumed to be separate and distinct, has- at times- been met with a sense of resistance from others in Wolfson’s field. In a more insidious sense, Professor Wolfson’s work in the field of Jewish mysticism has been met through non-meeting, or what seems to be a conscious repression of the often uncomfortable themes that Wolfson textually uncovers. Recognizing this phenomenon early on in Wolfson’s career, Professor Pinchas Giller wrote: “[t]he focus of Wolfson’s work presents challenges to the status qua of the field, and these challenges have not gone unremarked. In addition to challenging scholarly peers, Wolfson has also consistently rejected the glib, platitudinous understandings of Jewish mythology and symbolism prevalent in work written for popular audiences. This eschewing of cant and easy cliché is consistent with the restless searching spirit evident in his scholarship.”[27]
In addition to the challenges Wolfson has engaged other scholars in; his erudition in all areas of Jewish thought has also impacted the reception and engagement with his scholarship. As opposed to the static status many thinkers hold within their area of expertise, Wolfson has consistently crossed the artificial demarcations separating one area from another. Professor Wolfson is equally erudite in modern Hasidic thought – evidenced by his work Open Secret on Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson[28] – as he is in Zoharic scholarship as seen in his numerous articles devoted to questions of origin and the Zohar’s evocative mystical hermeneutics.[29] The dynamic ability to live, simultaneously, in the worlds of Maimonides[30] and Abraham Abulafia,[31] for example, has both elevated and alienated Wolfson from within the static walls of the academy, particularly in Israel. In this regard, Giller wrote: “Few scholars are so brazen as to speak authoritatively about more than one genre or time period. Wolfson seems to have violated the spirit of this social compact. The scope and volume of his writings have been viewed as evidence of a certain presumption, an ambition to rise to eminence without the sanction of Jerusalem.”[32]
Although the claim is authentic, namely, that Wolfson’s erudition stretches beyond the temporal limits of one time period or genre, the sense of “presumption” or academic arrogance is unfounded. Both in his scholarship and personal life, Wolfson exudes a certain lived-sense of humility.[33] The nullification of authorial-sense that allows Wolfson to speak through his sources as his sources speak through him is rooted in the modesty that marks both his life and his scholarship. As will be explained below, this modesty is deeply connected to Wolfson’s primary treatment of Jewish mysticism. The dialectic of concealment and disclosure, modesty and expression, reveals the chiasmic[34] sense of concealment as disclosure and disclosure as concealment. To reveal is to occlude that which cannot be disclosed, as concealment is to disclose that which must remain concealed. Wolfson’s work, far from being a “presumptuous” or arrogant expression of erudition, operates as a manifestation of modesty, secrecy and concealment that marks the nature of Jewish mysticism.
            Another critique aimed at Wolfson’s scholarship is the accusation of philosophical anachronism. The engagement of thinkers temporally removed from the time and space of early kabbalists has led some to claim that Wolfson’s work operates under a certain “obvious charge of anachronism.” In this regard, Wolfson notes that the vast body of his work is contained in “The field of my vision, so to speak, has been leveled, to the degree that is possible, by a focus on kabbalistic sources ranging from the twelfth to the twenty-first centuries, a large temporal swatch by anyone’s account. The use of German and French philosophers primarily from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries to interpret texts of traditional kabbalah, whose ideas may be ancient but whose incipient articulation in a Hebrew idiom is to be traced to a rich creative period from the twelfth to fourteenth century, demands a defense against the obvious charge of anachronism.”[35]
Regarding this claim, it is appropriate to paraphrase a notion depicted by Reb Zadok HaKohen of Lublin, a nineteenth century Hasidic thinker, regarding the nature of the accusatory gaze.[36] Often when an accusation is leveled against a particular individual, it is assumed that the accusatory claim points to a character defect. Through an act of psychological inversion, however, R. Zadok posits that the accusation- far from pointing to a defect in character- points towards the uniqueness of that individual.[37] This may be applied to Professor Wolfson’s creative capacity of posing thinkers, vastly removed by time and space, in dialogue with one another. The weaving of new constellations between thinkers hitherto unassociated marks Wolfson’s work with polyphonic sprachdenken, or speech-thinking.[38]  In this sense, Wolfson has paved new clearings along the path of Jewish mysticism. The utilization of philosophers, poets and religious thinkers from separate domains has given Wolfson the opportunity of translating[39] ancient kabbalistic ideas into a modern academic idiom. Far from the self-serving act of philosophical name-dropping, Wolfson’s engagement with these thinkers is an essential aspect of his thought’s unfolding. Equally erudite in the fields of continental philosophy as he is in Jewish mysticism, the often astonishing ease with which Wolfson weaves through the intertextual landscapes creates a vortex in which the kabbalists speak through the philosophers as the philosophers speak through the kabbalists.
Among the various thinkers with whom Wolfson has engaged in the infinite conversation, a select few stand out as constant presences in his scholarship.
First and foremost, Martin Heidegger’s philosophy and poetics have served as a speculum through which Wolfson has peered, moving through and beyond the Heideggerian notions of ontology, temporality, language, poetics, eschatology and dialectics of concealment and disclosure. Deeply aware of the controversies surrounding Heidegger’s dishonorable past; Wolfson has engaged the German philosopher’s thought while simultaneously recognizing his personal, political and even philosophical failures.[40] Wolfson has even hinted to the possibility of Heidegger manifesting certain traits of the biblical nemesis of the Jewish people, Balaam.[41] Much like Balaam who blessed the Jewish people through his attempt to curse them, Heidegger’s thought has provided fertile ground for Jewish thinkers, even as he was engaged in an insidious form of anti-Semitism.[42]
 Emmanuel Levinas is another thinker with whom Wolfson engages in philosophical dialogue, often resulting in the appreciation and acceptance of certain Levinasian notions while concurrently moving beyond the limit of his ethical and ontological premises. Critical of Levinas’s rhetorical and absolute renunciation of Heidegger’s thought, Wolfson clears a middle path through which the demarcations separating Levinas and Heidegger are written under erasure.[43]
 Another philosophical muse of Wolfson’s is Jacques Derrida. The Jewish father of deconstruction marks the pages of Wolfson’s scholarship, as well as his personal philosophical stance. Derrida’s utilization of James Joyce’s enigmatic statement, “Jewgreek is Greekjew, extremes meet?”[44] has given Wolfson a predecessor in his chiasmic dance of exclusion as inclusion and distance as closeness.[45] Derrida’s discussions on language, writing, absence, and negative theology have deeply influenced Wolfson’s scholarship.[46] In particular, the notion of the Derridian differance, or trace – a presence that is present through absence as it is absent through presence- has played a significant role in Wolfson’s development of such topics as zimzum and secrecy that play a central role in the Jewish mystical tradition. Professor Wolfson has stated that the Derridian trace plays a key and central role throughout most of his philosophical hermeneutics.[47] In addition to the philosophical themes wherein these thinkers overlap, the sociopolitical critiques that Derrida has leveled against Western ontotheology have impacted Wolfson’s approach to the Jewish mystical tradition.
The area in which this is most apparent is Wolfson’s claim that Jewish mystical texts and traditions operate within a closed, phallocentric system.[48] Echoing Derrida’s claim that Western thought has consistently worked within the economy of binary oppositions, while simultaneously privileging the masculine sense of presence and speech over the more feminized forms of absence and writing, Wolfson sees the Jewish mystical tradition as being a phallocentric discourse spoken through the mouths of male mystics. Wolfson has received much attention, not always positive, as a result of his stance.[49] Numerous scholars have attempted to take Wolfson to task, claiming that Jewish mysticism gives precedence to the feminine aspect of the Godhead, namely the shkina, and thus manifests a certain mystical feminism in which the patriarchal sense of privileging the masculine is overturned.[50] As Wolfson points out, the masculine in Jewish mystical texts represents the capacity to overflow, while the feminine reflects the passive capacity to receive. In this regard, Wolfson utilizes various thinkers within the French feminist movement, first and foremost the thought of the psychoanalyst and philosopher, Luce Irigaray, to elucidate his stance on gender-valence. Quite aware of the source material in which Jewish mystical texts apply an elevated, eschatological notion to the feminine, Wolfson has consistently pointed out that the inversion of hierarchal status is not equivalent to the undoing of essentialist and binary views of gender.  While the feminine may be elevated to its initial space of origin, in the spirit of the rabbinic dictum, “a woman of valor is the crown of her husband,” implying an overcoming of the diminution of the feminine vis-à-vis the masculine, the feminine is still endowed with masculine traits, thus maintaining the hierarchal status of gender even in its collapsing. While Wolfson is aware of the difficulty in accepting such an essentialist approach to gender performativity in the Jewish mystical tradition, he has stressed the need of critically analyzing texts through their anthropological and philological counterparts.[51] It is important to note, however, that while affirming the masculine-oriented nature of the tradition, Wolfson is by no means closing the text off beyond any redemptive stance.  In his later work,[52] Wolfson has shown that certain Jewish texts do clear a path through which the patriarchal, male-dominant notions inherent within the Jewish mystical tradition can be overcome. This eschatological advent of an undifferentiated state of non-duality, in which the feminine is no longer considered other, due to the fact that the masculine loses its privileged stance as the same, is rooted in the highest manifestation of the Divine-Plemora, namely Reisha-d’lo-ityada, or the unknown, or unknowable head. It is here, in this yet undefined state, not due to lack of definition, but rather inherently tied up in its own indefinability, that the promise of redemption lays.
In order to understand Wolfson’s concentration on the nature of the feminine, and the totalized system of Jewish mystical thought which appears to operate within a patriarchal framework, one needs to view his scholarly contributions through the lens of his personal and philosophical attitudes.  In this sense it is important to note the comments of Professor David Novak, in which he stated: “I have been trying to goad Elliot Wolfson, whom I consider to be the most philosophically interesting of today’s kabbalah scholars, into explicating kabbalah philosophically, that is, doing when speaking in the first person, because a philosopher has to speak in the first person. A philosopher has to say, “‘This is what I think is true.’ Wolfson’s explication of kabbalah is philosophical, but it has to be stated more clearly in his own voice, rather than in the voice or voices of his sources.”[53]
Although I categorically disagree with Novak’s claim that “a philosopher has to speak in the first person,” or that Wolfson’s thought need be “stated more clearly in his own voice,” the notion that Wolfson renders kabbalah in a philosophical key, as well as philosophy through a kabbalistic key is noteworthy. Throughout Wolfson’s writings, one senses a personal journey- perhaps even a wandering – through the labyrinthine pathways of text, context and pretext.[54]  Grafting together thinkers, divided by the fissures of temporal sway, Wolfson allows his “still small voice” to murmur beneath the magnificent edifices he erects. This voice, pregnant with a suffering unique to the mystical-hermeneutical quest, dances between the black and white fires that have become Wolfson’s plaything. The delicate balance between Wolfson’s personal, philosophical outlook and the scholarly body-of-text creates a third, wholly new path within the field of Jewish mysticism. Returning to the emphasis on the role of the feminine in Jewish mysticism, one theme- erupting from the silent voice- marks the pages of Wolfson’s scholarship, namely- an ethically and ontologically driven concern for the other.
In Wolfson’s own words: “If I were to isolate a current running through the different studies, it would be the search to resolve the ontological problem of identity and difference, a philosophic matter that has demanded much attention in various contemporary intellectual currents, to wit, literary criticism, gender studies, post-colonial theory, social anthropology, just to name a few examples. Indeed, it is possible to say, with no exaggeration intended, that there has been a quest at the heart of my work to understand the other, to heed and discern the alterity of alterity…What has inspired the quest for me has been the discernment on the part of the kabbalists that the ultimate being-becoming becoming being- nameless one known through the ineffable name, yhwh- transcends oppositional binaries, for, in the one that is beyond the difference of being one or the other, light is dark, black is white, night is day, male is female, Adam is Edom.”[55]
Wolfson’s concern for the other, the subject removed from the philosopher’s gaze, transcends the everyday concern for the sociopolitical standing of various groups. Disquieted by the hierarchies of power on a practical level,[56] Wolfson sees the othering of the other as a symptom of a more fundamental, philosophical issue. The feminine, for Wolfson, speaks for all that which has been relegated to the margins of alterity. These specters of presence, repressed by Western ontotheological discourse, have engaged Wolfson in a lifelong quest to disclose that which has been concealed from sight. Operating from within the position of kabbalistic texts, Wolfson has shown that “the ontological problem of identity and difference” rests at the center of the Jewish mystical tradition. Whether it is the dialectic of zimzum which discloses through concealment as it conceals through disclosure; the contradictory essence of the sefirot that operate concurrently as the finitude-of-infinity and the infinity-of-finitude; the eschatological hope for the advent of the messiah that is disclosed-through-its-foreclosure as it is foreclosed-through-its-disclosure; the speaking of the Name that is no-Name that may only be spoken through non-speaking; or the duality of secrecy that is secret-in-exposure as it is exposed-in-secret; Wolfson clears a path in which the identity of the same can only take root through the difference of the other, and vice versa.
 It is important to note, that although Wolfson employs a certain dialectical logic to highlight the oppositional relation between one thing and its other, by no means does he allow the dialectical pressure to find relief in a totalized synthesis. Like many philosophers engaged with continental or post-modernist thought, Wolfson is no longer comfortable relying on transcendentally prescribed truths, or “meta-narratives” to enclose the open-endedness of thought in the post-Hegelian epoch.[57] In contradistinction to many self-proclaimed post-Hegelian’s, however, Wolfson’s disavowal of the “synthesis which reconciles the two” does not stem simply from an external adherence to the populist philosophical zeitgeist. Rather, Wolfson’s insistence on keeping the dialectical movement in play stems from uncovering the limit of thought in which the identity-of-difference can only be expressed through the difference-of-identity. In other words, the divergent paths of separation may only unite through the separateness of their divergence. In this space of the excluded middle, each thing and its other remain distinct, with neither pole swallowing its other in an act of metaphysical violence. This limit of thought as Wolfson notes,[58] is representative of, “‘the mystery of the light of infinity’- which is predicated on the supposition that A and not-A are the same in virtue of their difference, or…shnei hafakhim be-nose ehad, ‘two opposites in one subject’.” Viewed in this light, Wolfson enters into, “the scandal of the coicidentia oppositourm such that the Yes can become a No and the No, a Yes, not by way of conflation but by juxtaposition, the disappearance of the very possibility of difference in the nonidentity of the identity of opposites; that is, opposites are identical by virtue of their opposition.”[59] It is at this limit-of-thought which is simultaneously the thought-of-limit where Wolfson sees the root of the mystical experience, or in the language of Maurice Blanchot, ‘the limit experience’.[60]
To enter into this paradoxical ‘place that is no place’[61] where opposites coincide in their opposition, Wolfson travels ‘a path from the side’ in which the necessary delimitations of logic are necessarily circumvented. In this sense, one may locate Wolfson’s thought within the sefirotic-space of keter, the super-rational will, or desire in which limits collapse while paradoxically upholding their limitations. Seen through the (dark)light of keter, Wolfson’s feverish[62] obsession with Nothingness becomes an essential aspect of his thinking, as well as lived-experience.[63]
 In the space of a Nothing that is a something that is no-thing, the normative, restrictive nature of language and thought must be transgressed. This transgression, however, is not a simple disavowal of language and thought, rather- it is the movement through and beyond the limit of these phenomenological modes-of-being. The dialectical play of keter – in which Nothing and Something, Ayin and Yesh, coincide so that the something-of-nothing, Atik Yomin, becomes the nothing-of-something, Arich Anpin – enables Wolfson to speak through the nothingness-of-language which is concurrently the language-of-nothingness, as he thinks imaginatively through imaginative-thinking. In other words, as opposed to the normative response to that which transcends identification, namely the Wittgensteinian ‘not-speaking’, Wolfson engages in a hermeneutics of ‘speaking-not’.[64] Deeply aware of language’s limit, Wolfson speaks through language towards its (n)ever receding horizon, thus transforming the nihilistic tendency of language’s shattering into an affirmation of that that which can never be affirmed.[65] The same can be said regarding Wolfson’s approach to rational thinking. Operating within the Aristotelian laws-of-logic, the Western ontotheological tradition has engraved a deep boundary separating that which can be thought and that which transcends the human capacity of thought. Wolfson, however, reaching the limit of thoughts interiority, “breaks on through to the other side,” wandering into the recesses of exteriorities (un)thought space. At the threshold, Wolfson relinquishes the bonds of ‘mental slavery’ and enters the luminous space of imaginal thinking.[66] Wolfson’s imaginative faculty enables him to think otherwise, beyond positivistic and perceivable reality. However, Wolfson’s approach to imaginationmuch like his approach to languageis far more complex than the mere denial of rational thought’s efficacy. Rigorously avoiding the fantastical flight into irrationality, Wolfson’s imaginal gleanings are marked by a strict set of laws, thus enabling the paradoxical play of imaginative-thinking and thinking-imaginatively. Similar to a dream in which the imaginary is grounded by the factual as the factual is grounded by the imaginary, Wolfson’s hermeneutics transform the black and white texts into a polyphonic expression of all that remains inexpressible.
Arriving again at the beginning, we can now comment on an essential aspect of Wolfson’s life-work, that is, the two forms of expression that walk along the path of his scholarship. The poetic hermeneutics that mark Wolfson’s theoretical work manifest, suddenly “with the turn of a breath” in his personal poetry.[67] In the ruins of language, Wolfson finds the openings through which his poetic breath may enter. Following in the trace of the poet Paul Celan, Wolfson speaks ‘every word through destruction’. The poems, often times difficult to read- not due to their opacity, but rather, due to the imaginal stirrings that are evoked- are an embodiment of the rabbinic idiom, “miut ha-machazik et ha-meruba,” the diminutive that encompasses the enormous.  The exilic nature of the poems leads the reader down the path that is no path, into the silent and lonely clearing where presence and absence dance. Reading Wolfson’s poetics along the furrows of his scholarship enables the reader to behold the embodied nature of Wolfson’s lived-thought. Along with his poetry, Wolfson is a seasoned artist whose paintings have been featured at various showings.[68] If poetry is the response to language’s limit, art is born from within rationalities foreclosure. Wolfson’s paintings depict the evanescence of color, the fleetingness of forms that get caught in the horizon of the frame. The kol of Wolfson’s poetics and the ohr of his aesthetics escort his philosophical hermeneutics into the space of the mystical experience.
Much like Wolfson’s triadic expression of scholarship, poetics and aesthetics, the written or marked space can only take the reader so far. The reader must engage with the texts through an act of hermeneutical inquisitiveness, opening themselves to what murmurs beneath the surface of the text. In this sense Elliot R. Wolfsons’s work not only opens upon a new path, but beckons the reader to join him.
Notes:
[1] The title of this essay, “Dorshei Yichudcha,” is taken
from the Ana BeKoach prayer attributed to R. Nechunya ben HaKanah. Translated
by Louis Jacobs as “Seeker of Unity,” this appellation is easily applied to
Professor Elliot R. Wolfson. The full context of this phrase in the prayer is
as follows, “nah gibor dorshei yichudcha ki-vavat shamrem” (“please protect the
seekers of Your unity like the apple of Your eye”). In his monograph on the
Hasidic mystic R. Aaron haLevi Horowitz of Starosselje, “The Seeker of Unity,”
Louis Jacobs records from R. Chaim Meir Hillman’s Beis Rebbe (1:26 fn.1) that when R. Dov Ber Schneerson, the
Mitteler Rebbe of Habad would repeat this verse, he would have his dear friend
and study partner, R. Aaron haLevi in mind. The reason, explained R. Dov Ber
was because R. Aaron delves so deeply into the secret of faith, “the raza
di-meheimanusa,” to the point where the demarcations of reality and Godliness
dissolve. See Louis Jacobs, Seeker of
Unity: The Life and Works of Aaron of Starosselje
(London: Vallentine
Mitchell, 1966), 7. See also Immanuel Etkes, “The War of Lyady Succession: R.
Aaron Halevi versus R. Dov Baer,” Polin
25 (2013): 93-133.
“Dorshei,” from the root darash, represents the
hermeneutical quest, the textual journey into that which lay within the words
themselves. “Yichudcha,” from the root yichud, represents the unity of all, the
source beneath the fragmentation of things that unites all that is different
within the difference-of-unity. The hermeneutical path that seeks to uncover
the unity of all is a proper description of Elliot R. Wolfson’s life and work.
[2]
Tanya, Chapter Twenty-Three.
[3] Emmanuel Levinas, Difficult
Freedom: Essays on Judaism
, trans. Seán Hand (London: The Athlone Press,
1990),  181.
[4] (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994).
[5] (New York: Fordham University Press, 2014).
[6] A complete listing of his articles and book chapters are
available on his personal website here, as well as here.
[7] See Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of
Menahem Mendel Schneerson
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2009),
xii-xiii, where Wolfson recounts a conversation held between himself and an
older Lubavitcher Hasid at 770 Eastern Parkway regarding the significance of
this birthdate. Wolfson quotes the Hasid as ending the conversation with, “Pay
attention, this day bears your destiny.”
[8] Amongst all streams of Jewish thought, it is possible to
say that Habad Hasidus has played one of the most significant roles in Wolfson’s
thought. His Elliot R. Wolfson, Open
Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel
Schneerson
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2009)  is considered by many the authoritative and
definitive work on the role of kabbalah in the late Lubavitcher Rebbe’s thought
and political/theological weichenstellung. See as well Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Revisioning the Body Apophatically: Incarnation and the Acosmic Naturalism of
Habad Hasidism,” in Chris Boesel, and Catherine Keller, eds., Apophatic Bodies: Negative Theology,
Incarnation, and Relationality
(Fordham: Fordham University Press, 2010),
147-199. For his in-depth discussion on the fifth rebbe of Habad, R. Sholom Dov
Ber Schneerson’s thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Nequddat ha-Reshimu-The Trace
of Transcendence and Transcendence of the Trace: The Paradox of Simsum in the
RaShaB’s Hemshekh Ayin Beit,” Kabbalah
30 (2013): 75-120.
[9] Rabbi Wilfred Wolfson was an early student of Rabbi
Yaakov Yitzchok Ruderman at Yeshivas Ner Yisrael ( (Ner Israel Rabbinical
College), Baltimore, in the 1940’s. According to his son, Rabbi Wolfson was the
first rabbinic student from Ner Israel to be given permission to attend Johns
Hopkins University, where he studied with Professor William Foxwell Albright.
See Wilfred Wolfson, “Review of William Foxwell Albright, The Archaeology of Palestine,” The
Jewish Horizon
(March 1950): 18.
Rabbi Wilfred Wolfson served as the longtime rabbi of
Congregation Sha’arei Tefillah in Brooklyn and was a popular Rosh Yeshivah at
Yeshiva University/BTA in Brooklyn. Upon his death, Rabbi Wilfred Wolfson’s
collection of seforim was sent to the library at Ner Israel.
[10] Interview With Elliot R. Wolfson, July 25, 2012, in
Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 195.
[11] Rabbi Zvi Aryeh Rosenfeld is the one who is
single-handedly responsible for introducing the teachings of Breslov on the
American scene from the 1950s until his death in 1978.
[12] Email correspondence with Elliot R. Wolfson (16 July
2015). Teachings from Rav Kook, Ramchal, and Maharal are to be found throughout
Wolfson’s work.
[13] Interview With Elliot R. Wolfson, July 25, 2012, in
Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 196. For
his recent (and extensive) treatment of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s thought,
see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Eternal Duration and Temporal Compresence: The
Influence of Habad on Joseph B. Soloveitchik,” in Michael Zank and Ingrid
Anderson, eds., The Value of the
Particular: Lessons from Judaism and the Modern Jewish Experience – Festschrift
for Steven T. Katz on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday
(Leiden:
Brill, 2015), 196-238.
[14] See Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of
Imagination
(New York: Zone Books, 2011), in which he dedicates the work,
“To the memory of Edith Wyschogrod, for showing me the way to the way of
nonshowing.” Wolfson adds the evocative Latin phrase, “somnium somnia quasi semper vives. Vive
quasi hodie moriebar
– ‎Dream as if
you’ll live forever. Live as if you’ll die today.”
For his extensive treatment of Wyschogrod’s thought, see Elliot
R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift:
Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham University Press,
2014), 201-227. For Wolfson’s earlier work on Wyschogrod, see Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Apophasis and the Trace of Transcendence: Wyschogrod’s Contribution to a Postmodern
Jewish Immanent A/theology,” Philosophy
Today
55:4 (Winter 2011): 328-347; and for his article published in a
memorial festschrift for Wyschogrod, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Kenotic Overflow
and Temporal Transcendence: Angelic Embodiment and the Alterity of Time in
Abraham Abulafia,” in Eric Boynton and Martin Kavka, eds., Saintly Influence: Edith Wyschogrod and the Possibilities of Philosophy
of Religion
(New York: Fordham University Press, 2009), 113-149.
[15] Wolfson published the following essays in honor of his
doctoral advisors, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Mystical Rationalization of the
Commandments in the Prophetic Kabbalah of Abraham Abulafia,” in Alfred L. Ivry,
Elliot R. Wolfson & Allan Arkush, eds., Perspectives
on Jewish Thought and Mysticism
[=Alexander Altmann Memorial Volume]
(Reading: Harwood Academic Publishers, 1998), 311-360; Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Female Imaging of the Torah: From Literary Metaphor to Religious Symbol,” in
Jacob Neusner, Ernest S. Frerichs, and Nahum M. Sarna, eds., From Ancient Israel to Modern Judaism,
Intellect In Quest of Understanding: Essays in Honor of Marvin Fox
, vol. 2
(Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), 271-307; Elliot R. Wolfson, “‘Sage Is
Preferable to Prophet’: Revisioning Midrashic Imagination,” in Deborah A. Green
and Laura S. Lieber, eds., Scriptural
Exegesis: The Shapes of Culture and the Religious Imagination: A Festschrift in
Honor of Michael Fishbane
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 186-210.
[16] Email correspondence with Elliot R. Wolfson (16 July
2015). Wolfson’s response confirmed the approached first taken by Professor
Altmann in his earliest essay, in Alexander Altmann, “Das Verhältnis Maimunis
zur jüdischen Mystik,” Monatsschrift für
Geschichte und Wissenschaft des Judentums, 80 Jahrgang
(1936): 305-330
(German), which appeared in English translation in Alexander Altmann,
“Maimonides’ Attitude toward Jewish Mysticism,” Alfred Jospe, ed., Studies in Jewish Thought: An Anthology of
German Jewish Scholarship
(Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1981),
200-219. See Lawrence Fine, “Alexander Altmann’s Contribution to the Study of
Jewish Mysticism,” Leo Baeck Institute
Yearbook
34:1 (1989): 421-431, as well as Wolfson’s extensive discussion on
the Maimonidean secret in Elliot R. Wolfson, Abraham Abulafia — Kabbalist and Prophet: Hermeneutics, Theosophy and
Theurgy
(Los Angeles: Cherub Press, 2000).
[17] Elliot R. Wolfson, The
Book of the Pomegranate: Moses de Leon’s Sefer ha-Rimmon
(Atlanta: Scholars
Press, 1988). About this edition, Daniel Abrams has written: “No Hebrew word
processing paragraph today can link the base-text to the line numbers of the
edition, to the variant readings and to the editor’s notes. Such linkage has to
be done manually. See the most complex page layout of any camera-ready edition
prepared by a single scholar in the field of Jewish mysticism: Elliot Wolfson’s
The Book of the Pomegranate.” See Daniel Abrams, Kabbalistic Manuscripts and Textual Theory: Methodologies of Textual
Scholarship and Editorial Practice in the Study of Jewish Mysticism

(Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2010), 69n169.
[18] I would like to thank yedidi Reb Menachem Butler for
his help in preparing this essay. More importantly, Menachem has played a
uniquely important role in my life, opening space for relationships otherwise
inaccessible. Echoing the sentiment expressed to me by Professor Michael
Fishbane shlita, Menachem is a shadchan in the truest sense of the word,
uniting worlds otherwise disparate. The indelible mark Menachem has imparted
onto and into the world of Torah and Jewish studies is unparalleled. It is
through Menachem that I came to meet Professor Wolfson, and through Menachem is
this essay possible.
[19] See below for Wolfson’s usage of Rosenzweigian sprachdenken.
[20] See Walter Benjamin, “Franz Kafka,” trans. Harry Zohn,
in Michael W. Jennings, Howard Eiland, and Gary Smith, eds., Selected Writings, vol. 2, 1927-1934
(Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1999), 812.
[21] I do not recall the exact ma’amar studied, but the topic was the paradoxical nature of simsum
in which concealment is disclosed through the disclosure of concealment.
[22] Email correspondence with Elliot R. Wolfson (17 July
2015).
[23] Among the numerous students Wolfson has supervised,
Professors Daniel Abrams, Jonathan Dauber and Hartley Lachter have become
scholars of Jewish Mysticism, often building upon the themes in Wolfson’s work.
See, for example, Daniel Abrams, The
Female Body of God in Kabbalistic Literature: Embodied Forms of Love and
Sexuality in the Divine Feminine
(Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2004); Jonathan
Dauber, Knowledge of God and the
Development of Early Kabbalah
(Leiden: Brill, 2012); Hartley Lachter, Kabbalistic Revolution: Reimagining Judaism
in Medieval Spain
(New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2015), and
others. Aside from his official students, Wolfson has mentored various scholars
in the field as well.
[24] Daniel Abrams, Kabbalistic
Manuscripts and Textual Theory: Methodologies of Textual Scholarship and
Editorial Practice in the Study of Jewish Mysticism
(Jerusalem: Magnes
Press, 2010), 13-14.
[25] Jonathan Garb, “In Honor of Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream,” NYU-Humanities Initiative (28 February
2012), available online here.
[26] This sense of radical hermeneutics is borrowed from
John D. Caputo, Radical Hermeneutics:
Repetition, Deconstruction and The Hermeneutic Project
(Bloomington: Indiana
University Press, 1987) and on his usage of this terminology, see Elliot R.
Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being:
Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York: Fordham
University Press, 2005), 473fn27.
[27] See Pinchas Giller, “Elliot Wolfson and the Study of
Kabbalah in the Wake of Scholem,” Religious
Studies Review
25:1 (January 1999): 23-28.
[28] Elliot R. Wolfson, Open
Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel
Schneerson
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2009).
[29] For a compilation of Wolfson’s work on the Zohar, see
Elliot R. Wolfson, Luminal Darkness:
Imaginal Gleanings from Zoharic Literature
(Oxford: Oneworld, 2007).
Regarding the importance of Wolfson’s Zoharic scholarship see, Daniel Abrams, Kabbalistic Manuscripts and
Textual Theory: Methodologies of Textual Scholarship and Editorial Practice in
the Study of Jewish Mysticism
(Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2010): 132-133,
353-359.
[30] On Maimonides, see, Elliot R. Wolfson, “Beneath the
Wings of the Great Eagle: Maimonides and Thirteenth-Century Kabbalah,” in Görge
K. Hasselhoff and Otfried Fraisse, eds., Moses
Maimonides (1138-1204): His Religious, Scientific, and Philosophical
Wirkungsgeschichte in Different Cultural Contexts
(Würzburg: Ergon Verlag,
2004), 209-237; and regarding the impact of Maimonidean negative theology on
early Jewish mysticism, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Negative Theology and Positive
Assertion in the Early Kabbalah,” Da’at
32-33 (1994): V-XXII (English); Elliot R. Wolfson, “Via Negativa in Maimonides
and Its Impact on Thirteenth-Century Kabbalah,” Maimonidean Studies 5 (2008): 363-412. For a recent discussion on
the Maimonidean influence on the Neo-Kantianism of Hermann Cohen, see Elliot R.
Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift:
Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham University Press,
2014), 14-33.
[31]  On Abraham
Abulafia, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Abraham
Abulafia—Kabbalist and Prophet: Hermeneutics, Theosophy, and Theurgy
(Los
Angeles: Cherub Press. 2000).
[32] See Pinchas Giller, “Elliot Wolfson and the Study of
Kabbalah in the Wake of Scholem,” Religious
Studies Review
25:1 (January 1999): 23-28.
[33] For an extensive treatment of humility in Jewish
thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Venturing
Beyond: Morality and Law in Kabbalistic Mysticism
(New York: Oxford
University Press, 2006), 286-316. See also the brief letter by Rav Aryeh
Kaplan, “The Humility of God,” The Jewish
Press
(27 January 1967): 45, called to my attention by Menachem Butler.
Regarding modesty as the prerequisite for truly engaging
Jewish mystical texts, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “From Sealed Book to Open Text:
Time, Memory, and Narrativity in Kabbalistic Hermeneutics,” in Steven Kepnes,
ed., Interpreting Judaism in a Postmodern
Age
(New York University Press, 1995), 145-178; and Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Secrecy, Modesty, and the Feminine: Kabbalistic Traces in the Thought of
Levinas,” in Kevin Hart and Michael
A. Signer, eds., The Exorbitant: Emmanuel
Levinas Between Jews and Christians
(New York: Fordham University Press,
2010), 52-73.
[34] On the usage of poetic-chiasmus in Wolfson’s work, a
motif that can be found countless times throughout his oeuvre, see Aaron W. Hughes, “Elliot R. Wolfson: An Intellectual
Portrait,” in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking
(Leiden: Brill, 2015), 1-33.
[35] See the prologue “Timeswerve/Hermeneutic
Reversibility,” in Elliot R. Wolfson, Language,
Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York:
Fordham University Press, 2005), xv-xxxi, where he combats the claim of
anachronism through an in-depth depiction of hermeneutical temporality; Elliot
R. Wolfson, Wolfson, Alef, Mem, Tau:
Kabbalistic Musings on Time, Truth and Death
(Berkeley: University of
California Press, 2006), 1-55. For a similar approach to this issue, see Elliot
R. Wolfson, “Structure, Innovation, and Diremptive Temporality: The Use of
Models to Study Continuity and Discontinuity in Kabbalistic Tradition,” Journal for the Study of Religions and
Ideologies
6:18 (2007): 143-167. See the comments of Sergey Dolgopolski, The Open Past: Subjectivity and Remembering
in the Talmud
(New York: Fordham University Press, 2013), 342fn6.
[36] On Reb Zadok ha-Kohen of Lublin, see the various
scholarly studies by Professor Yaakov Elman, which are all noted in Dovid
Bashevkin, “In Your Anger, Please Mercifully Publish My Work: An Honest Account
of a Contemporary Jewish Publishing Odyssey” the Seforim blog (26 June 2015), available here, and earlier in Dovid Bashevkin, “Perpetual Prophecy: An
Intellectual Tribute to Reb Zadok ha-Kohen of Lublin on his 110th Yahrzeit,”
(with an appendix entitled: “The World as a Book: Religious Polemic, Hasidei
Ashkenaz, and the Thought of Reb Zadok,”), the
Seforim blog
(18 August 2010), available here.
[37] See Tzidkat ha-Tzadik, no. 70.
[38] Regarding Wolfson’s usage of Rosenzweigian sprachdenken, see Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Introduction,” to Franz Rosenzweig, The
Star of Redemption
, trans. Barbara E. Galli (Wisconsin: University of
Wisconsin Press, 2005), xvii-xx. See as well, Elliot R. Wolfson, “Foreword,” to
Yudit Kornberg Greenberg, Better Than
Wine: Love, Poetry, and Prayer in the Thought of Franz Rosenzweig
(Atlanta:
Scholars Press, 1996),  xi-xii.
For an extensive treatment on Rosenzweig’s thought, see
Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the
Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham University
Press, 2014), 34-89. For an earlier approach see, Elliot R. Wolfson, “Facing
the Effaced: Mystical Eschatology and the Idealistic Orientation in the Thought
of Franz Rosenzweig,” Zeitschrift für
Neure Theologiegeschichte
4 (1997): 39-81. See, as well, Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Light Does Not Talk but Shines: Apophasis and Vision in Rosenzweig’s
Theopoetic Temporality,” in Aaron W. Hughes and Elliot R. Wolfson, eds., New Directions in Jewish Philosophy
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2009), 87-148.
[39] Regarding the central role translation as a hermeneutic
form of interpretation, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 1-45. For an earlier approach, see
Elliot R. Wolfson, “Lying on the Path: Translation and the Transport of Sacred
Texts,” AJS Perspectives 3 (2001):
8-13. For the influence of Hans Georg-Gademer’s interpretation theory on
Wolfson’s thought, see, Elliot R. Wolfson, Pathwings:
Philosophic and Poetic Reflections on the Hermeneutics of Time and Language
(Barrytown,
NY: Barrytown/Station Hill Press, 2004), 227-233.
[40] Regarding Heidegger’s Nazism, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic
Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York: Fordham University Press,
2005), 420fn241 and for a recent approach to the publications of Heidegger’s
infamous “Black Notebooks,” see the interview with Elliot R. Wolfson by Aubrey
Glazer, “What does Heidegger’s Anti-Semitism mean for Jewish Philosophy?” Religion Dispatches (3 April 2014),
online here. For a similar approach deeply influenced by Wolfson’s
thought, see Michael Fagenblat, “The Thing that Scares Me Most: Heidegger’s
anti-Semitism and the Return to Zion,” Journal
for Cultural and Religious Theory
14:1 (Fall 2014), 8-24. For an earlier
attempt to reconcile Heidegger’s thought with Jewish thought, see, Marlène Zarader, The Unthought Debt: Heidegger and the Hebraic Heritage (Stanford:
Stanford University Press, 2006) and Jean-Francois Lyotard, Heidegger and ‘the Jews’, trans. Andreas
Michel and Mark Roberts (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1990).
Regarding Wolfson’s engagement with Heidegger, see Aaron W.
Hughes, “Elliot R. Wolfson: An Intellectual Portrait,” in Hava Tirosh Samuelson
and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson:
Poetic Thinking
(Leiden: Brill, 2015), 1-33. See also the
multi-page-footnote in Elliot R. Wolfson, “Eternal Duration and Temporal
Compresence: The Influence of Habad on Joseph B. Soloveitchik,” in Michael Zank
and Ingrid Anderson, eds., The Value of
the Particular: Lessons from Judaism and the Modern Jewish Experience –
Festschrift for Steven T. Katz on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday
(Leiden:
Brill, 2015), 208-212fn37.
It would be difficult to speak of all the places in which
Wolfson engages Heidegger’s thought, however see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Not Yet
Now: Speaking of the End and the End of Speaking,” in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and
Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson:
Poetic Thinking
(Leiden: Brill, 2015), 127-193; and Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Undoing the (K)not of Apophaticism: A Heideggerian Afterthought,” in Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and
Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 227-260.
The specific impact Heidegger’s thought has had on Wolfson will be discussed in
a future essay.
[41] Elliot R. Wolfson, “Achronic Time, Messianic
Expectation, and the Secret of the Leap in Ḥabad,” in  Jonatan Meir and Gadi Sagiv, eds., Habad Hasidisim: History, Theology and Image
(Jerusalem: Merkaz Zalman Shazar, forthcoming in 2016), 27fn28.
[42] On Heidegger’s impact on Jewish thinkers, see Richard
Wolin, Heidegger’s Children: Hannah
Arendt, Karl Löwith, Hans Jonas, and Herbert Marcuse
(Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 2003).
[43] See Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New
York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 90-154; Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream:
Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination
(New York: Zone Books, 2011),
32-38, 297-302fn59-74; and Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of
Menahem Mendel Schneerson
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2009),
251-252.
For an earlier approach to the influence of Jewish mysticism
on the thought of Emmanuel Levinas, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Secrecy, Modesty,
and the Feminine: Kabbalistic Traces in the Thought of Levinas,” in Kevin Hart
and Michael A. Signer, eds., The
Exorbitant: Emmanuel Levinas Between Jews and Christians
(New York: Fordham
University Press, 2010), 52-73. See also Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic
Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York: Fordham University Press,
2005), 432fn362. The specific impact that Levinas’s thought has had on
Wolfson’s will be discussed in a future essay.
[44] On Derrida’s Jewishness and the Jewishness of Derrida,
see John D. Caputo, The Prayers and Tears
of Jacques Derrida
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1997), 230-263;
see Bettina Bergo, Joseph Cohen, and Raphael Zagury-Orly, eds., Judeities: Questions for Jacques Derrida
(New York: Fordham University Press, 2007); Gideon Ofrat, The Jewish Derrida, trans. Peretz Kidron (Syracuse: Syracuse
University Press, 2001); Geoffrey Bennington and Jacques Derrida, Jacques Derrida (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1993), 292-297. For Derrida’s own treatment of the Jewishness of
his thought, see Jacques Derrida, Archive
Fever: A Freudian Impression
, trans. Eric Prenowitz (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1996); and Geoffrey Bennington and Jacques Derrida, Jacques Derrida (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1993).
[45] Wolfson utilizes the Derridian notion of
inclusion-through-exclusion to describe his relationship with the organized
aspect of Jewish religion. While this dialectic of presence/absence demands a
more significant treatment, see Wolfson’s autobiographical comments in Elliot
R. Wolfson by Aubrey Glazer, “What does Heidegger’s Anti-Semitism mean for
Jewish Philosophy?” Religion Dispatches (3
April 2014), online here; and Interview With Elliot R. Wolfson, July 25, 2012, in
Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015). For an
exhaustive treatment of antinomianism and hypernomianism as it relates to the
Jewish mystical tradition see, Elliot R. Wolfson, Venturing Beyond: Morality and Law in Kabbalistic Mysticism (New
York: Oxford University Press, 2006).
[46] On Derrida, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania (New
York: Fordham University Press, 2014), 155-200. For an earlier approach on the
influence of kabbalah on Derrida’s thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Assaulting
the Border: Kabbalistic Traces in the Margins of Derrida,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 70:3 (September 2002):
475-514. For an analysis of Derrida’s famous phrase, “there is nothing outside
of the text,” see Elliot R. Wolfson, “From Sealed Book to Open Text: Time,
Memory, and Narrativity in Kabbalistic Hermeneutics,” in Steven Kepnes, ed., Interpreting Judaism in a Postmodern Age
(New York University Press, 1995), 145-178.
[47] In private discussion with the author.
[48] Regarding the role of gender in Jewish mysticism, see
Elliot R. Wolfson, Circle in the Square:
Studies in the Use of Gender in Kabbalistic Symbolism
(Albany: State
University of New York Press, 1995). Aside from the essays compiled in this
volume, Wolfson has continued to devote much time and effort to this aspect of
his scholarship, see for example, Elliot R. Wolfson,  “Woman—The Feminine As Other in Theosophic
Kabbalah: Some Philosophical Observations on the Divine Androgyne,” in Lawrence
J. Silberstein and Robert L. Cohn, eds.,
The Other in Jewish Thought and
History: Constructions of Jewish Culture and Identity
(New York: New York
University Press, 1994), 166-204; Elliot R. Wolfson, “Crossing Gender
Boundaries in Kabbalistic Ritual and Myth,” in Mortimer Ostow, Ultimate Intimacy: The Psychodynamics of
Jewish Mysticism
(London: Karnac Books, 1995), 255-337; and Elliot R.
Wolfson, “Occultation of the Feminine and the Body of Secrecy in Medieval
Kabbalah,” in Elliot R. Wolfson, ed., Rending
the Veil: Concealment and Revelation of Secrets in the History of Religions
(New
York and London: Seven Bridges Press, 1999), 113-154. Many more sources could
be cited.
[49] Wolfson has responded to the various critics of his
stance in numerous places within his scholarship. See for example, Elliot R.
Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a
Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination
(New York: Zone Books,
2011), 439fn65; Elliot R. Wolfson, Luminal
Darkness: Imaginal Gleanings from Zoharic Literature
(Oxford: Oneworld,
2007), 254fn26; Elliot R. Wolfson, Language,
Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York:
Fordham University Press, 2005), 136, 486fn191; Elliot R. Wolfson, Pathwings: Philosophic and Poetic
Reflections on the Hermeneutics of Time and Language
(Barrytown, NY:
Barrytown/Station Hill Press, 2004), 248fn53; and most recently in Elliot R.
Wolfson, “Patriarchy and the Motherhood of God in Zoharic Kabbalah and Meister
Eckhart,” in Ra’anan S. Boustan, et al., eds., Envisioning Judaism: Studies in Honor of Peter Schäfer on the Occasion
of his Seventieth Birthday
, vol. 2 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013),
1049-1088, esp. 1058-1059fn30.
[50] See for example, Arthur Green, “Kabbalistic Re-Vision:
A Review Article of Elliot Wolfson’s Through
a Speculum That Shines
,” History of
Religions
36:3 (February 1997): 265-274; Melila Hellner-Eshed, A River Flows from Eden: The Language of
Mystical Experience in the Zohar
(Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press,
2009), 347-356.
[51] See Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New
York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 1-45.
[52]  See Elliot R.
Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic
Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson
(New
York: Columbia University Press, 2009), 200-223; for the most recent
explication of Wolfson’s stance on this issue, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Phallic
Jewissance and the Pleasure of No Pleasure” (forthcoming in 2015). It is
important to note that this is a rudimentary treatment of one of the more
complex areas in Wolfson’s thought. The potential capacity of undoing the gender-valence
inherent within the mystical tradition has yet to be fully unfolded. This will
be addressed in a future essay.
[53] Interview with David Novak, in Hava Tirosh Samuelson
and Aaron W. Hughes, David Novak: Natural
Law and Revealed Torah
(Leiden: Brill, 2013), 118-119.
[54] On the significance of walking/wandering in Jewish
mystical thought, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Walking as a Sacred Duty: Theological
Transformation of Social Reality in Early Hasidism,” in Ada Rapoport-Albert,
ed., Hasidism Reappraised (London:
Littman Library, 1997), 180-207.
[55]  Elliot R.
Wolfson, Luminal Darkness: Imaginal
Gleanings from Zoharic Literature
(Oxford: Oneworld, 2007), xvi. For an
extended treatment of this theme, see Elliot R. Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination (New
York: Fordham University Press, 2005), 46-111. See also Elliot R. Wolfson,
“Ontology, Alterity, and Ethics in Kabbalistic Anthropology,” Exemplaria 12:1 (January 2000): 129-155.
[56] Wolfson has consistently avoided engaging current
sociopolitical issues in his scholarship. This stems from a focus on the
subterranean themes of the dynamic as opposed to the symptomatic expression of
current events.
[57] See Elliot R. Wolfson, “Not Yet Now: Speaking of the End
and the End of Speaking,” in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden:
Brill, 2015), 182.
[58] Elliot R. Wolfson, “Nequddat
ha-Reshimu-
The Trace of Transcendence and Transcendence of the Trace: The
Paradox of Simsum in the RaShaB’s Hemshekh Ayin Beit,” Kabbalah 30 (2013): 92, and for an
in-depth analysis of this (non)logic, see 92-98.
It is possible to say that this form of logic that is not
one, the middle excluded by the formal laws of logic, rests at the center of
Wolfson’s thinking. This logic inherent to Wolfson’s treatment of Jewish
Mysticism – in which the identity of opposites is affirmed by the opposite of
identity- is inspired in part by the logic of the Middle Path, or ‘the logic of
not’ expressed in the Mahayana Buddhist tradition. See Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret: Postmessianic Messianism and
the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson
(New York: Columbia
University Press, 2009), 109-114, 247-250; Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream:
Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination
(New York: Zone Books, 2011),
179-219; Elliot R. Wolfson, Wolfson, Alef,
Mem, Tau: Kabbalistic Musings on Time, Truth and Death
(Berkeley:
University of California Press, 2006), 158-170; Elliot R. Wolfson, Venturing Beyond: Morality and Law in
Kabbalistic Mysticism
(New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 170-176,
232-247.
[59] Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving
Beyond the Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham
University Press, 2014), xxiii.
[60]  Wolfson expands
on this notion in a lecture at the historic Rothko Chapel in Houston, “The Path
Beyond the Path: Mysticism and the Spiritual Quest for Universal Singularity,”
delivered on 7 April 2011), available online here.
See as well, Elliot R. Wolfson, Language,
Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York:
Fordham University Press, 2005), 288-289.
[61]  See Elliot R.
Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being:
Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York: Fordham
University Press, 2005), 233-234.
[62]  The usage of the
word ‘feverish’ is inspired by the Derridian notion of fever as unending memory
of the immemorial futurity; see Jacques Derrida, Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression, trans. Eric Prenowitz
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996).
[63]  The topic of
Nothingness is found too frequently throughout Wolfson’s scholarship to source
exhaustively; for example, see Elliot R. Wolfson, “Nihilating Nonground and the
Temporal Sway of Becoming: kabbalisticly envisioning nothing beyond nothing,” Angelaki 17:3 (2012): 31-45; Elliot R.
Wolfson, “Negative Theology and Positive Assertion in the Early Kabbalah,” Da’at 32-33 (1994): V-XXII (English);
Elliot R. Wolfson, Open Secret:
Postmessianic Messianism and the Mystical Revision of Menahem Mendel Schneerson
(New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), 75-82, 113-115; Elliot R.
Wolfson, Giving Beyond the Gift:
Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham University Press,
2014), 75-87; Elliot R. Wolfson, Language,
Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York:
Fordham University Press, 2005), 173-186; Elliot R. Wolfson, Venturing Beyond: Morality and Law in
Kabbalistic Mysticism
(New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 212-215;
Elliot R. Wolfson, Wolfson, Alef, Mem,
Tau: Kabbalistic Musings on Time, Truth and Death
(Berkeley: University of
California Press, 2006), 36-39, 167-168, 234fn12; and Elliot R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a Dream:
Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination
(New York: Zone Books, 2011),
229-239.
[64]  See Elliot R.
Wolfson, “Nihilating Nonground and the Temporal Sway of Becoming: kabbalisticly
envisioning nothing beyond nothing,” Angelaki
17:3 (2012): 31-45.
[65]
To condense Wolfson’s thought on language into a paragraph, or even a
footnote is as impossible as it is improper. Few thinkers have engaged in the
linguistic path of (un)showing the limit of language while simultaneously
utilizing language in its own disavowal, as Wolfson has. Speaking from within
and beyond the philosophers of language, including but not limited to
Heidegger, Wittgenstein, Derrida, Levinas, Blanchot, Celan, Buber, Foucault,
Jabes, Kristeva, and Lacan; Wolfson has uncovered new, impossible vistas in
which the hermeneutics of language may be thought anew. To attempt a listing of
Wolfson’s thought on language would be to miss the liminal nature of what can
properly be called “Wolfsonian Language.” For an introduction, see Elliot R.
Wolfson, Language, Eros, Being:
Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York: Fordham
University Press, 2005), 1-44.
[66]  The primacy of
imagination in Wolfson’s scholarship has already been noted in Aaron W. Hughes,
“Elliot R. Wolfson: An Intellectual Portrait,”
in Hava Tirosh Samuelson and Aaron W. Hughes, eds., Elliot R. Wolfson: Poetic Thinking (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 1-33. See
as well Jeffrey J. Kripal, “The Mystical Mirror of Hermeneutics: Gazing into
Elliot Wolfson’s Speculum,” in Roads of Excess, Palaces of Wisdom:
Eroticism and Reflexivity in the Study of Mysticism
(Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 2001), 258-298. This is testified by the fact that nearly all of
Wolfson’s published books contain some reference to the imaginative faculty.
For example, Elliot R. Wolfson, Language,
Eros, Being: Kabbalistic Hermeneutics and Poetic Imagination
(New York:
Fordham University Press, 2005); Elliot R. Wolfson, Luminal Darkness: Imaginal Gleanings from Zoharic Literature (Oxford:
Oneworld, 2007); Elliot R. Wolfson, A
Dream Interpreted Within a Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination
(New
York: Zone Books, 2011). For an overview of Wolfson’s thoughts on imagination,
see Elliot R. Wolfson, Giving Beyond the
Gift: Apophasis and Overcoming Theomania
(New York: Fordham University
Press, 2014), 1-14. The primary treatment of imagination can be found in Elliot
R. Wolfson, A Dream Interpreted Within a
Dream: Oneiropoiesis and the Prism of Imagination
(New York: Zone Books,
2011).
[67] Elliot R. Wolfson has published two poetry collections
thus far. Elliot R. Wolfson, Pathwings:
Philosophic and Poetic Reflections on the Hermeneutics of Time and Language
(Barrytown,
NY: Barrytown/Station Hill Press, 2004), and Elliot R. Wolfson, Footdreams & Treetales: Ninety-Two Poems
(New York: Fordham University Press, 2007). Wolfson’s third collection of
poetry, On One Foot Dancing, can be
found online here. For an in-depth analysis of Wolfson’s poetics, see
Barbara Ellen Galli, On the Wings of
Moonlight: Elliot R. Wolfson’s Poetry in the Path of Rosenzweig and Celan
(Montreal:
McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2007). For the sake of space, a discussion on
Wolfson’s poetry will be treated in a future essay.

 

[68] For an in-depth treatment of Wolfson’s aesthetics seen
through his scholarship, and vice versa, see, Marcia Brennan, Flowering Light: Kabbalistic Mysticism and
the Art of Elliot R. Wolfson
(Houston: Rice University Press, 2009). A
selection of Wolfson’s art are online here, which is prefaced with: “elliot wolfson has long been
preoccupied with the insights of jewish mystical traditions that approach an
imageless god through the mediation of an intensely visual symbolic imaginary.
his painted canvases communicate a corresponding sense that vision hovers ever
on the borders of appearing and disappearing, disclosure and hiddenness. as the
imagination seeks to give form to what remains nonetheless formless, the
quintessentially human endeavor of hermeneutics is already caught up in the
transcending eros of a divine creativity.”