A Mild Case of Plagiarism: R. Abraham Kalmankes’ Ma’ayan Ha-Hokhmah

A Mild Case of Plagiarism:  R. Abraham Kalmankes’ Ma’ayan Ha-Hokhmah
by Shnayer Leiman
1.  The Accusation.

Rabbi Joseph Samuel ben R. Zvi (d. 1703) – more popularly known as ר’ שמואל ר’ חיים ר’ ישעיה’ס – served as a member of the rabbinic court in Cracow for some 26 years, after which he was appointed Chief Rabbi of Frankfurt in 1689.1 An avid collector of books and manuscripts, he made good use of them in listing in the margins of his copy of the Talmud variant readings, emendations, and annotations to the text of, and commentaries on, the Babylonian Talmud. These were published posthumously in the Amsterdam and Frankfurt editions of the Talmud, 1714-21. Today, they are incorporated in every edition of the Vilna Talmud, and every student of the Talmud benefits from the efforts of this great rabbinic scholar.2
One of the many tasks of the leading rabbis in the 17th and 18th centuries was to write letters of approbation on behalf of mostly young rabbinic scholars seeking to publish their manuscripts. R. Joseph Samuel wrote some 40 such letters of recommendation during his lifetime, not an insignificant number in those days.3 This, despite the fact that he looked askance at the recommendations that many of his colleagues were writing, and was less than impressed by the quantity and quality of books being published. Indeed, at one point he called for – and apparently instituted – a moratorium on the publication of rabbinic works in Germany, claiming that many of them were superfluous and some were even harmful.4
On January 2, 1701, R. Joseph Samuel wrote a letter of approbation for a kabbalistic work by R. Mordechai Ashkenazi, an otherwise unknown author (then) who was a protégé of the distinguished Italian rabbi and kabbalist, R. Abraham Rovigo (d. 1713).5 The book, entitled אשל אברהם, and the letter of approbation, were published later in 1701 in Fürth. After a lengthy critique of the proliferation of works on Kabbalah in the late 17th century, the letter reads, in part:6
They [the new authors of kabbalistic works] are guilty of two evils. First, they neither know nor understand the deeds of God. Second, they cause the common folk to slight the rabbis expert in the exoteric Torah. The common folk assume that rabbis not expert in Kabbalah are not true scholars. So they cast away their expert rabbis, listening instead to the enchanters, whose wisdom is borrowed from others. I can testify that this is true [i.e., that the enchanters’ wisdom is borrowed from others], for I was involved in such a case. I recall vividly how some fifty years ago I owned a copy of a delightful kabbalistic work entitled התחלת חכמה. Some upstart student, a novice with no knowledge based on accumulated learning, printed the book under his own name. He simply plagiarized the entire book.

2.  The Identity of the Plagiarized Book.
No book entitled התחלת חכמה has ever appeared in print. It therefore could not have been plagiarized by anyone. Moreover, R. Joseph Samuel did not reveal the name of the plagiarist and the title of the book in its plagiarized form. This literary riddle was first raised in print early in 1976 by the noted bibliophile, Abraham Schischa of London.7 The solution was not long in coming. That same year, R. Shmuel Ashkenazi, also a noted bibliophile, solved the riddle.8 He correctly identified התחלת חכמה as the title of a kabbalistic book in manuscript form, still available in a variety of contemporary libraries.9 In book form, it was entitled מעין החכמה and it first appeared in print in Amsterdam in 1652.10 The plagiarist who published מעין החכמה under his own name was R. Abraham Kalmankes of Lublin. Ashkenazi provided other useful information as well, but all that is important for our purposes is that he clearly identified R. Abraham Kalmankes as a plagiarist. As such, he agreed fully with R. Joseph Samuel’s characterization (in his letter of approbation) of the novice upstart student. The  late Professor Gershom Scholem also identified R. Abraham Kalmankes as a plagiarist. He would write:11
והוא [ר’ אברהם קלמנקס] הדפיס ס’ התחלת חכמה הגניבה [כך כתוב] על שמו,
וכבר יש רמז לדבר בהסכמת הרב מפרנקפורט לס’ אשל אברהם.

“He [R. Abraham Kalmankes] published the pirated book entitled Hathalat Hokhmah under his own name. The matter is alluded to in the letter of approbation by the rabbi of Frankfurt to the book entitled  Eshel Avraham.”

It is our contention that R. Abraham Kalmankes has received less than a fair hearing in the court of modern scholarship. If we reopen the investigation, it is because much of the evidence has either been misconstrued or overlooked. The reader will have to decide for himself whether or not Kalmankes was, in fact, a  plagiarist, and whether or not he should be better remembered for his seminal contribution to Jewish teaching and literature.
3. מעין החכמה.
            a) Claims of the Author/Editor
מעין החכמה, the first book to appear under R. Abraham Kalmankes’ name, is a short introduction to Lurianic Kabbalah. Indeed, it was among the earliest such works to appear in print. The title page of the quarto sized volume is followed by a one-and-a-half page introduction (pages 2-3). The introduction is followed by the text (pp. 4-22), which consists of 78 tightly-knit chapters (פרקים), perhaps more properly labeled today as paragraphs. Thus, several of the “chapters” consist of no more than15 lines of print (and, sometimes, even less). Scattered throughout the book are occasional comments in parentheses. These may reflect an educational tool used by the original author to clarify a difficult term by means of a gloss, creating — in effect — what we would call today a footnote. Or, as appears likely, these may reflect a second hand, i.e., material added to the base text by someone other than the author, e.g., a later editor of the original manuscript. Our immediate concern, however, will not be with the book’s content or structure, but rather with its authorship. What are the claims of the title page and the introduction? What do they tell us about the authorship of
מעין החכמה?
The title page basically announces the content of the book.12 It is a kabbalistic manual, we are informed, the likes of which has yet to appear in print. It provides the kabbalistic underpinning upon which all of R. Isaac Luria’s teachings rest. The title page then indicates that the book’s secret teachings are being  brought to press [ Hebrew:תעלומים  הוציא לאור] by “the exceedingly wise and young divine kabbalist, R. Abraham, son of the Gaon, Chief Rabbi and Head of the Yeshiva, R. Aryeh Leib, scion of the Kalmankes family of Lublin.” Note that the phrase “being brought to press by” is ambiguous. It is unclear from the title page whether R. Abraham Kalmankes is being presented as the author, editor, or publisher of מעין החכמה.
We perforce turn to the introduction, which – if read carefully – resolves much of the ambiguity of the title page.13The introduction, written and signed by R. Abraham Kalmankes, begins with a justification for the book’s publication. Briefly, Kalmankes, himself a victim and survivor of the Chmielnitzki massacres, informs the reader that he was puzzled by the seemingly endless exile of the Jews, with redemption nowhere in sight. After much reflection – and deeply influenced by kabbalistic teaching – Kalmankes concluded that it was faulty prayer that was prolonging the exile of the Jewish people. Jewish prayer was not piercing the heavens and reaching God on high. He compared the state of the Jewish people to a ship adrift at sea, with no one on board who knows how to steer the ship to safety. Nothing will change, argued Kalmankes, until kabbalistic teaching spreads throughout the Jewish communities. The seeds of redemption were planted by R. Isaac Luria, the master of proper kabbalistic prayer. Alas, he died before redemption set in, but he left a successor, R. Hayyim Vital, who in turn left “a basket full of manuscripts,” i.e. he reduced to writing the kabbalistic teachings of R. Isaac Luria, especially those relating to prayer. Once these teachings were mastered by Jews the world over, redemption would be at hand.
Unfortunately, “the basket full of manuscripts” was not being made available to the Jewish community at large. Kalmankes explains that those who horde the manuscripts refuse to publish them. This, for two reasons. First, for reasons of vanity. By retaining the manuscripts for themselves, they became the masters of esoteric teaching and the power brokers to whom all had to turn for guidance. Second, for reasons of profit. The owners of the manuscripts charged a hefty price for those who wished to view and copy them. Kalmankes decided to put an end to this scandalous state of affairs by acquiring and publishing one of the manuscripts that preserved some of the key esoteric teachings of R. Isaac Luria. Moreover, he “added a few comments of his own, in order to benefit the many readers,” almost certainly a reference to the comments in parentheses mention above. He gave the manuscript a new title, מעין החכמה [Wellspring  of Knowledge], for “just as a wellspring begins with a narrow opening that ultimately widens as it fills with water, so too this book begins with nuggets of wisdom that broaden and deepen as one grows in wisdom.” Kalmankes concludes the introduction with the following signature: “These are the words of the youngest
member of the group, Abraham, son of my father and teacher Rabbi Aryeh, son of the Gaon, our teacher and rabbi, the honorable R. Joseph Kalmankes Yaffe of Lublin.”
            b) Editions
Some of the confusion surrounding מעין החכמה relates to the multiplicity of published kabbalistic works with the title מעין החכמה, some of which have been mistakenly ascribed to Kalmankes in library catalogues throughout the world.
Confusion surrounding Kalmankes’ alleged plagiarism is also due, in part, to variant readings that appear in the later printed editions of מעין החכמה, for which Kalmankes can hardly be held responsible. After brief mention of some unrelated kabbalistic works with the title מעין החכמה, we will list and describe each of the printed editions of Kalmankes’ מעין החכמה.
An anonymous kabbalistic treatise entitledמעין חכמה  (ascribed in part to Moses) is included in the collection entitled ארזי לבנון (Venice, 1601).14 It is unrelated to Kalmankes’ מעין החכמה. The Ashkenazic printing house of the partners Judah Leib b. Mordecai Gimpel and Samuel b. Moses Ha-Levi published yet another anonymous kabbalistic treatise entitled מעין החכמה (Amsterdam, 1651).15 Frequently reprinted, it too is unrelated to Kalmankes’ מעין החכמה.
Four different editions of Kalmankes’ מעין החכמה have appeared in print. They are:
1. מעין החכמה, Amsterdam, 1652. Printed by the Immanuel Beneviste publishing house during the lifetime of its author/editor Abraham Kalmankes, it is the only reliable edition of Kalmankes’ מעין החכמה. As such, we will claim that Kalmankes can be judged only on the basis of this, and no other, edition of מעין החכמה. For a detailed description of the book, its title page, and introduction, see above.16
2. מעין חכמה, Koretz, 1784. This edition was printed by the Johann Anton Krieger publishing house which, in Koretz, was devoted to the publishing of kabbalistic and hasidic works.17 Although Kalmankes’ title of the book is retained, the title page ascribes the book to R. Isaac Luria and makes no mention of Abraham Kalmankes. More importantly, this edition omits Kalmankes’ introduction to the book. The text is a slightly revised and updated version of the Kalmankes edition. It incorporates most of Kalmankes’ parenthetical notes, with slight revision.18 The text was edited in its present form sometime between 1698 and 1784, i.e. well after Kalmankes’ death.19
3. מעיין חכמה, Polonnoye, 1791. Printed by the Samuel b. Yissokhor Baer Segal publishing house, this edition of מעין החכמה  appears at the end of a collection of kabbalistic works whose title page reads: ספר הר אדני.  מעיין חכמה is accorded no title page of its own. It begins with a skewed version of Kalmankes’ introduction, entitled: הקדמת המחבר ספר מעיין חכמה. No such title is applied to Kalmankes’ introduction in the first edition. We have already indicated (see above) that the introduction is omitted entirely from the second edition, so no such title appears there. The introduction to this, the third edition, closes with the name of the author:  אברהם בן מהו’ ארי’ בן הגאון מה’ משה יוסף קלמן מלובלין. In the first edition, however, Kalmankes’ grandfather’s name is given as: הגאון מורנו ורבנא כמוהר”ר יוסף קלמנקס ייפה מלובלין, with no mention of either משה or קלמן. The text that follows is entitled: התחלת החכמה האלהות כפי דרך האר”י אשכנזי ז”ל הנקרא ספר מעיין החכמה. It differs considerably from the text published in the first two editions. It  mostly lacks Kalmankes’ parenthetical comments strewn throughout the first two editions. It regularly omits readings that appear in the first two editions, and often adds material that is lacking in the first two editions. Indeed, it is a different manuscript version of the Lurianic digest that was first published by Kalmankes in 1652.20
4. מעין החכמה, Lvov, 1875. No publisher’s name is given. This is a hybrid version drawn from two earlier printed editions. Kalmankes’ introduction is drawn from the skewed version that accompanies the Polonnoye, 1791 edition. The text is drawn from the Koretz, 1784 edition.21 As such, this edition has no independent value and requires no further discussion.
            c) Relationship of the Published Editions to the Extant Manuscripts
No one has written more intelligently about the history of Lurianic kabbalistic manuscripts than Yosef Avivi.22 What follows is essentially a brief account of the relationship between the published editions of Kalmankes’מעין החכמה and the extant manuscripts, based largely (but not entirely) upon the results of Avivi’s investigations.
Numerous manuscripts copies of the kabbalistic treatise entitled התחלת החכמה, most of them dating to the 17th and 18th centuries, are extant in libraries throughout Europe, Israel, and the U.S. While they vary slightly from each other, they clearly reflect a single recension of an early 17th century kabbalistic treatise. The anonymous treatise, whose original title is unknown, was written by a disciple of Luria in Damsascus and then sent to Italy. There, the manuscript was copied and circulated under a variety of names such as קונטרס ההיכלות, כללי חכמת שיעור קומה, התחלת החכמה, and התחלת חכמה. It was precisely because a manuscript copy of התחלת חכמה came into the possession of R. Joseph Samuel b. R. Zvi of Cracow sometime prior to 1652, that he was so startled when he saw Kalmankes’ printed edition of מעין החכמה. Even after the printed edition made its debut in 1652, new manuscript copies of the kabbalistic treatise were written and circulated under a variety of titles, now including the title מעין החכמה.
Avivi has shown that the  התחלת החכמה manuscripts formed the first part of a larger Lurianic treatise that originally included a second part as well. Whereas the first part focused entirely on עולם האצילות, the second part focused  on עולם הבריאה — and is extant in manuscript form only. The two parts were separated from each other, and largely due to Kalmankes’ publication, the first part became an independent work entitled מעין החכמה. In sum, Kalmankes’ מעין החכמה is an accurate copy (with the addition of occasional glosses by Kalmankes) of an anonymous early 17th century Lurianic treatise that circulated widely under a variety of titles, including the title התחלת החכמה.
4. R. Abraham Kalmankes.
            a) Family History
The accusation of plagiarism leveled against R. Abraham Kalmankes by R. Joseph Samuel b. R. Zvi, and seconded by both R. Shmuel Ashkenazi and  Gershom Scholem, was not accompanied by any discussion of R. Abraham Kalmankes himself. When and where did he live? How did he make a living? What other books did he author? Was he an inveterate plagiarizer?23 Had such an investigation been conducted, we suspect that the accusation of plagiarism would not have been leveled at all.
In a brief biographical account of Kalmankes published in 1992, the author of the account bemoans the fact that so little is known about Kalmankes’ life history.24 Nonetheless, much more is known about him – and his family — than the meager snippets of information recorded in the 1992 biographical account or in the standard discussions of מעין החכמה. We will take as our point of departure the clear reference in Kalmankes’ introduction to מעין החכמה to his distinguished grandfather, “the Gaon, our Teacher and our Rabbi, R. Joseph Kalmankes Yaffe of Lublin.” For our purposes, what is most important about the grandfather is that after an illustrious rabbinic career in Lublin, he spent his last years in Prague, where he died, and remains buried to this day.25 The elaborate epitaph on his tombstone informs us that he died at the age of 56 on Sunday,13 Tishre, in the year 5397 (= October 12, 1636).26 The significance of this information will become apparent shortly, but first we need to turn elsewhere.
In 1678, at the family owned printing press in Lublin, R. Abraham Kalmankes published the only other work he would publish in his lifetime. Entitled ספר האשל, it is a masterful (and typical seventeenth century) rabbinic commentary on the book of Genesis.27It was the first installment of a planned commentary on the entire Torah, but apparently the rest of the commentary either never materialized or was never published.  The commentary is essentially a midrashic-halakhic work, replete with citations from the Midrash, Talmud, Codes (especially R. Joseph Karo’s שלחן ערוך), and kabbalistic literature. The volume itself is accompanied by a series of letters of recommendations by rabbis from Kremenitz, Lublin, Brisk, Pinsk, Grodno, Vilna,28 and more, all attesting to Kalmankes’ rabbinic scholarship. Once again, Kalmankes prefaced his work with an informative introduction. Kalmankes alludes to the many trials and tribulations that accompanied him through life, including hazardous trips to Egypt and the land of Israel. He was near death on several occasions during his travels, but managed to make his way back safely to Lublin.29 Upon his return, he undertook to publish two works in his lifetime. This, in order to fulfill the talmudic dictum: “Happy is he who arrives here [i.e., on High] with his talmudic teaching in hand.”30 Since according to biblical teaching, a matter is established by “two witnesses,” Kalmankes was determined to author two books and publish them, so that he would have them “in hand” when necessary. The first book, ספר האשל, intended for a more or less popular audience, took the form of a commentary on the book of Genesis. The second book, entitled ברכת אברהם, was intended for talmudic scholars only. Kalmankes informs us that the manuscript copy of ברכת אברהם was completed and that he looked forward to its publication. Sadly, it was never published. What  needs to be noted immediately is that Kalmankes never imagined that his earlier publication of מעין החכמה could count as one of his “two witnesses”! (And this was in 1687, long before R. Joseph Samuel b. R. Zvi leveled his accusation of plagiarism in 1701.) Indeed, מעין החכמה is not mentioned at all in Kalmankes’ introduction to ספר האשל. Clearly, he did not consider it a book that he had authored.
Elsewhere in the introduction, Kalmankes notes that he will make a special effort to cite דברי תורה from his grandfather, R. Joseph Kalmankes, who he describes as: “א”א זקני מ”ו הגאון מוהר”ר יוסף קלמנקס, זצ”ל, אשר מנוחתו כבוד בק”ק פראג.”  Kalmankes adds that upon his grandfather’s death in Prague, all of his writings were lost, and that he – Kalmankes – will therefore record his grandfather’s teachings as he heard them from his disciples. “For,” explains Kalmankes, “I merited to sit at his feet only until the age of ten. Thus, I was a child, and have no real knowledge of his novellae.” We, of course, cannot be certain whether Kalmankes sat at his grandfather’s feet in Lublin or Prague (or both). If only in Prague, and if Kalmankes was ten years old when his grandfather died, we have the latest possible date of birth for Kalmankes, namely 1626, for we have already established that Kalmankes’ grandfather died in 1636. Kalmankes, of course, could have been born earlier than 1626, and we have reason to believe that this was the case.
At the other end of the spectrum, it seems likely that R. Abraham Kalmankes died somewhere between 1678 and 1701. That he was still alive in 1678 is attested by the publication of ספר האשל in that year, and by several of the letters of recommendation dated 1678, all of which describe Kalmankes as alive and well. Since Kalmankes never responded to the devastating accusation of plagiarism made against him in 1701 by a leading rabbinic contemporary, it is probably safe to assume that he died before the accusation appeared in print. Though we cannot pinpoint the year of his death with precision, the most likely candidates are either 1692 or 1693. Kalmankes died in Lvov, where he served on its rabbinic court as דיין.31 The text of the epitaph on his tombstone was copied and published in 1863 and reads:32
שנת תתן אמת ליעקב
                          ביום טוב נהפך כי טוב פעמים ואבל ומספד ונהי בכפלים
ט”ו בחודש ניסן נגנז צנצנת המן המאיר באספקלריא המאירה
כבוד מורינו ורבנו ומאורנו נתבקש בישיבה של מעלה
הגאון האלוף עין הגולה מו”ה אשר יעקב אברהם בן הרב מוהר”ר אריה קלמנקש
צלל במים אדירים של תורה וחיבר ס’ אשל אברהם על שמו נקרא
ובשביל שזיכה את הרבים יבוא שלום וינוח על משכבו בשלום
תנצב”ה
Thus, Kalmankes died on 15 Nisan on a Tuesday.33 But in which year? The text states unequivocally that it was in the year whose numerical value was embedded in the biblical phrase תתן אמת ליעקב.34 But the copyist (in 1863) informed his readers that, due to an erasure, he could no longer determine which letters from the phrase were enlarged or highlighted on the original tombstone. This makes it difficult, but not impossible – as we shall see – to calculate Kalmankes’ approximate year of death. Since Kalmankes died on the first day of Passover which fell on a Tuesday, seven candidates (between the years 1678 and 1701) present themselves: 1679, 1686, 1689, 1692, 1693, 1696, and 1699. The Hebrew equivalents for these years are: [5]439, [5]446, [5]449, [5]452, [5]453, [5]456, and [5]459. Now the numerical value of a combination of letters from the phrase תתן אמת ליעקב must add up exactly to one or more of the above Hebrew dates. Only two solutions are possible: [5]45235 and [5]453.36 These are 1692 and 1693, respectively.37 In sum, if we had to give mostly approximate dates for the three generations of the Kalmankes family mentioned by R. Abraham Kalmankes in both of his publications, they would be:
R. Joseph Kalmankes:    1580-1636
R. Aryeh Kalmankes:      1600-167038
R. Abraham Kalmankes: 1620-169339
b) Citation from מעין החכמה in ספר האשל
Critical for our discussion is the fact that R. Abraham Kalmankes cites מעין החכמה in his ספר האשל!40 It is the only reference to מעין החכמה in ספר האשל.The passage reads:41
       או יאמר מאמר הר”י ז”ל באשר נקדים מאמר מהאר”י לור”י[א] הנזכר בספר מעיין החכמה
אשר הביאותיו לבית הדפוס בפ’ י”ד שבשעת הבריאה…
Or we can explain this by citing a passage from R. Isaac of blessed  memory, i.e., by first introducing a passage by R. Isaac Luria Ashkenazi — which is mentioned in chapter 14 of the book מעיין החכמה, which I brought to press [literally: to the publishing house] — which states that during the period of creation…
If one examines chapter 14 of מעין החכמה, the passage cited by Kalmankes in ספר האשל appears exactly as referenced, but Luria’s name appears nowhere in the text of chapter 14! This is precisely because מעין החכמה was a repository of Lurianic teaching which he – Kalmankes – brought to press. Kalmankes never claimed authorship of the book, and he tells us so in his own words in 1678, long before any accusation was leveled against him.
5. Conclusions.
Ultimately, whether or not Kalmankes is viewed as a plagiarist will depend largely on one’s definition of plagiarism.42 In terms of literary (as distinct from oral) plagiarism, a reasonable definition would seem to be:
Plagiarism is the act of appropriating in print another person’s ideas,          writings, or words, and passing them off as one’s own by not providing proper attribution to their original source.
Even aside from the definition itself, the moral opprobrium attached to any specific act of plagiarism will depend on a variety of factors. Thus, it seems to me, that the more literal and lengthy the borrowing, the more heinous the offense. Motive too will surely play a role in determining the severity of the offense. We turn to the specifics of the Kalmankes case.One can certainly sympathize with R. Joesph Samuel’s outrage when, in the 1650’s, he chanced upon a copy of the recently published מעין החכמה. He leafed through its pages and realized instantaneously that it was virtually word for word a printed copy of a manuscript he owned under the title התחלת חכמה. Worse yet, prominently displayed on the title page of the pirated book was the name of the “divine kabbalist,” R. Abraham Kalmankes, a name otherwise unknown to R.Joseph Samuel. He could only conclude that this was a blatant case of plagiarism that called for condemnation. Indeed, he was still upset about the matter some fifty years later!
But, as we have seen, the title page of מעין החכמה is somewhat ambiguous about Kalmankes’ role in its authorship and publication. It simply states that Kalmankes הוציא לאור the תעלומים, i.e., he published the secret or hidden digest of Lurianic teaching. One suspects that R. Joseph Samuel never examined Kalmankes’ introduction to מעין החכמה. Had he done so, he surely would have noticed that Kalmankes admits openly that he is publishing a manuscript that contains a digest of Lurianic teaching, authored by a disciple of Luria – and not by him. Kalmankes’ states unequivocally that his contribution to the volume is limited to the few comments he added (almost always in parentheses) and to the new title, מעין החכמה, he provided for it. It is only in the third edition of מעין החכמה, published in Polonnoye, 1791 – long after Kalmankes’ death – that a skewed version of Kalmankes’ introduction is labeled: הקדמת המחבר ספר מעיין חכמה, in effect suggesting that Kalmankes was the author of מעין החכמה. Anyone who reads this skewed version of Kalmankes’ introduction, and compares it to the original, will realize at once that it is was created in 1791 in order to harmonize its content with that of a different manuscript version of the Lurianic digest (one that lacked Kalmankes’ comments) that was being attached to it.43
 We have also the clear evidence from Kalmankes’ introduction to ספר האשל, published by him in 1678, that he sought to author and publish two books in his lifetime, so as not to be embarrassed when he was called “on High.” He provides the titles of both books, yet makes no mention of the fact that he had authored and published a book called מעין החכמה. He knew full well that this was a book written by others, which he had brought to press. Indeed, as we have seen, he cited מעין החכמה in his ספר האשל. When doing so, he stated openly that it was a Lurianic work that he had brought to press.
            There doesn’t seem to be much evidence here for plagiarism, as defined above. Kalmankes’ מעין החכמה was based upon a Lurianic manuscript that was anonymous and was circulating under a variety of titles. Kalmankes never claimed authorship of the manuscript, and indicated clearly that all he did was to provide the manuscript with a new title and some brief annotation. This he did for the best of motives, namely to bring about the ultimate redemption of the Jewish people. He did not pass off the work as his own (other than the title and the annotations, which were legitimately his own creation); he withheld no proper attribution.
On the other hand, three distinguished scholars, R. Joseph Samuel of the seventeenth century, and R. Shmuel Ashkenazi and the late Professor Gershom Scholem of the twentieth century, were persuaded that Kalmankes was a plagiarist. Perhaps they felt that the appearance of Kalmankes‘ name on the title page of מעין החכמה,  preceded by the words “אב בחכמה ורך בשנים המקובל האלוהי כמוהר”ר,” with no mention of any manuscript or attribution to others, was sufficiently misleading – and, perhaps, even deliberately intended – to create the impression that Kalmankes was the author of the book. If so, they would argue, he deserves to be listed among the plagiarizers. I am not persuaded that this is the case, but in deference to the three distinguished scholars mentioned above, I have allowed the title of this essay to read as it does. At best (or: worst), it is a mild case of plagiarism, if even that.44
NOTES
1 For biographical studies of R. Joseph Samuel b. R. Zvi, see H.N. Dembitzer,
כלילת יופי (Cracow, 1893), vol. 2, pp. 144b-152b; M. Horovitz, Frankfurter Rabbinen (Jerusalem, 1969), ed. J. Unna, pp. 94-97 and 296-297; and idem,
רבני פרנקפורט (Jerusalem, 1972), ed. J. Unna, pp. 67-69 and 212. For the epitaph on his tombstone, see idem, אבני זכרון (Frankfurt, 1901), p. 151. For legendary accounts of R. Joseph Samuel, see E. Sternhell, “,תולדות יצחק” p. 2b, in Y.I. Billitzer, באר יצחק (Paks, 1898); and Y.L. Maimon, שרי המאה (Jerusalem, 1955), vol. 1, pp. 231-233.
2 For an assessment of R. Joseph Samuel’s contribution to the printed text of the Talmud, see Y. S. Spiegel, עמודים בתולדות הספר העברי: הגהות ומגיהים (Ramat-Gan, 2005), second edition, pp. 404-407.
3 See L. Loewenstein, מפתח ההסכמות (Lakewood, 2008), ed. S. Eidelberg, pp. 99-100.
H.N. Dembitzer, op. cit., vol. 2, p. 150a.
See G. Scholem, חלומותיו של השבתאי ר’ מרדכי אשכנזי (Jerusalem, 1938); and Y. Tishby, נתיבי אמונה ומינות (Jerusalem, 1964), pp. 81-107. Cf. the historical vignette in Rabbi P. Katzenellinbogen, יש מנחילין (Jerusalem, 1986), ed. Y.D. Feld, pp. 74-75.
The original reads:
ושתים רעות עושים כי לא ידעו ולא יבינו אל פעולות השם,  גם גורמים להשניא  בעיני המון את חכמי תורה שבנגלה, כסבורים העם דמאן דלא ידע האי לאו גברא רבה הוא, ומשליכים אחרי גיום חכמים חרשים ושומעים לקול מלחשים, אשר בטליתות שאינן שלהם מלבשים, כאשר בקושטא קא אמינא בדידי הוה עובדא, נהירנא זה חמישים שנה שבידי ספר נחמד כתוב על חכמת הקבלה נקרא תחלת חכמה, והנה קם מאן דהו תלמיד חדש שישן אין בו והדפיסו על שמו, והנה גנוב הוא אתו.
A. Schischa, “שלושה ספרים נעלמים,” עלי ספר 2(1976), pp. 237-240.
S. Ashkenazi, “שתי הערות,” עלי ספר 3(1976), pp. 171-173. For an expanded version of Ashkenazi’s comments in עלי ספר, see his אסופה: ארבעה מאמרים מאוצרות הר”ש אשכנזי שליט”א (Jerusalem, 2014), pp. 49-53. Cf. S.Z. Havlin, “הערת העורך,” עלי ספר 11(1984), p. 134.
These include the National Library in Jerusalem, the Bodleian Library at Oxford, and a host of other libraries in Europe and the United States. For an early description of two such manuscripts in the National Library in Jerusalem, see G. Scholem, כתבי יד בקבלה (Jerusalem, 1930), p. 63, manuscript 2512, and p, 117, manuscript 47. The Bodleian Library lists some 10 manuscript copies of התחלת חכמה in its collection. See A. Neubauer, Catalogue of the Hebrew Manuscripts in the Bodleian Library and in the College Libraries of Oxford (Oxford, 1886), column 1001. Cf. the corrections to these listings in M. Beit-Arie and R.A. May, eds., Catalogue of the Hebrew Manuscript in the Bodleian Library: Supplement of Addenda and Corrigenda (Oxford, 1994), passim. A manuscript copy of התחלת חכמה was in the private library of R. Joseph Solomon Delmedigo in 1631. See his נובלות חכמה (Basel, 1631), p. 195a. The precise title of the book varies in the manuscripts, with the most common titles being התחלת חכמה  and
התחלת החכמה.
10 See L. Fuks and R.G. Fuks-Mansfeld, Hebrew Typography in the Northern Netherlands 1585-1815 (Leiden, 1984), vol. 1, pp. 176-177, entry 233.
11 See the undated loose page, in Scholem’s hand, appended to Scholem’s copy of מעין חכמה at the National Library in Jerusalem. Cf. ספריית גרשם שלום בתורת הסוד היהודית: קטלוג (Jerusalem, 1999), vol. 1, p. 312, entry 4188.

12 See the scan of the title page.

 

13 See the scan of the introduction.
14 The title is so listed on the pages of the treatise itself in ארזי הלבנון, pp. 46b-47a. On the title page of ארזי הלבנון, it is listed as מעיין החכמה. The frequent and easy interchange between the spellings מעין and מעיין and the spellings חכמה and החכמה characterizes virtually all the printed editions of the various books bearing these titles.
15 L. Fuks and R.G. Fuks-Mansfeld, op. cit., vol. 1, p. 195, entry 270,
16 Only a handful of copies are extant world wide. To the best of my knowledge, the first edition of Kalmankes’ מעין החכמה has not been photo-mechanically reproduced, and it is not available online (as of the date this note was recorded). Nor is it available on any of the standard electronic collections of rabbinic literature, such as HebrewBooks, אוצר החכמה, or אוצרות התורה. I am indebted to the National Library in Jerusalem and the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York for making their copies available to me. The scans of the title page and the introduction are reproduced here courtesy of the Bibliotheca Rosenthalia, now in the Special Collections of the University of Amsterdam (online catalogue: http://permalink.opc.uva.nl/item/001748453).
17 H. D. Friedberg, תולדות הדפוס העברי בפולניא (Antwerp, 1932), p. 61.
18 One key revision appears on p. 1, chapter 2, where ספר ויקהל משה is referenced. The book is not mentioned in the first edition of Kalmankes’ מעין החכמה, nor could it have been, since ספר ויקהל משה was not published until 1698. The reference is to R. Moshe Graf, ויקהל משה (Dessau, 1698). It does not appear likely that Kalmankes saw Graf’s work in manuscript form, since מעין החכמה was published in 1652 and Graf was born in 1650.
19 For the date of Kalmankes’ death, see below. The Koretz, 1784 edition was photo-mechanically reproduced in Jerusalem, 1970.
20 The Polonnoye, 1791 edition of מעיין חכמה was photo-mechanically reproduced in Jerusalem, n.d. (circa 1998), in a thin, dark blue, hardbound volume whose spine and outer cover read צדיק יסוד עולם, and whose title page reads הר אדני. (In other words, when seeking a copy in a bookshop of the reprint of the Polonnoye, 1791 edition of מעיין חכמה, whatever else you do, don’t ask for a copy of מעיין חכמה.)
21 As noted by S. Ashkenazi (see above, note 8), the title page of the Lvov edition indicates that its text is based upon the Koretz edition, and reproduces the very biblical phrase used by the Koretz edition for indicating its original date of publication in 1784. But by highlighting a different set of letters within the same biblical phrase, the Lvov edition announces to the reader that its date of publication is 1875.
22 Y. Avivi, קבלת האר”י (Jerusalem, 2008), 3 volumes, passim. See especially vol. 1, pp. 204-208, 443; and vol. 2, pp. 565-568, 840-841. See also, idem, “כתבי האר”י באיטליה עד שנת ש”פ”,” עלי ספר 11(1984), pp. 91-134; and “הערה,” עלי ספר 12(1986), p. 133.
23 “Plagiarism is something people may do for a variety of reasons but almost always something they do more than once.” So T. Mallon, Stolen Words: Forays into the Origins and Ravages of Plagiarism (New York, 1989), preface, p. xiii.
24 Rabbi M.Y.S. Goldenberg, “פתח דבר,” to the reissue of R. Abraham Kalmankes’ ספר האשל (Brooklyn, 1992).
25 On R. Joseph Kalmankes Yaffe of Lublin, see J. Kohen-Zedek, שבת אחים ( St. Petersburg, 1898), pp. 59-76; S. B. Nissenbaum,  לקורות היהודים בלובלין, (Lublin, 1920), second edition. pp. 36-37; S. Buber, אנשי שם (Cracow, 1895), p. 89, entry 217;  and S. Englard, “צפונות יוחסין (א), “ ישורון 3(1997), p. 680, note 6 and p. 694, note 36a.
26 See K. Lieben, גל עד (Prague, 1856), German section, p. 46; Hebrew section, pp. 34-35.
27 R. Abraham Kalmankes, ספר האשל (Lublin, 1678). Few copies have survived. For the copy at the Bodleian Library, see M. Steinschneider, Catalogus Librorum Hebraeorum in Bibliotheca Bodleiana (Berlin, 1860), vol. 1, column 752, entry 4458:1; and A.E. Cowley, A Concise Catalogue of the Hebrew Printed Books in the Bodleian Library (Oxford, 1929), p. 45. For the copy at the British Library, see J. Zedner, Catalogue of the Hebrew Books in the British Museum (London, 1867), p. 14. For the copy at Yeshiva University’s Mendel Gottesman Library, see B. Strauss, אהל ברוך (London, 1959), p. 31, entry 534. To the best of my knowledge, the first edition of Kalmankes’ ספר האשל has not been photo-mechanically reproduced, and is it not available online (as of the date this note was recorded). Nor is it available on any of the standard electronic collections of rabbinic literature, such as HebrewBooks, אוצר החכמה, or אוצרות התורה. A new edition of this exceedingly rare volume was made available by Rabbi M.Y.S. Goldenberg (Brooklyn, 1992) and we are indebted to him. Nonetheless, one needs to use this new edition with caution; the text has been “improved” for the modern reader. A comparison of the texts of the title page, as they appeared in 1678 and 1992, serves as an indicator of the occasional liberties taken with the text. A seemingly enigmatic woodcut (opposite the opening page of the commentary on Genesis) depicting a Jew (Kalmankes?) drawing water from a well (מעין החכמה?) – and framed in an elaborate frame marked by two angelic beings holding up a crown inscribed with the words כתר תורה – was not reproduced in the 1992 edition. See the attached scans:
 
28 The letter of recommendation from Vilna, dated 1673, was written by its Chief Rabbi, R. Moses b. David Kramer (d. 1687), the paternal great-great-grandfather of the Vilna Gaon.
29 These vicissitudes of life may account for the additional first names of Kalmankes, who in ספר האשל is identified as אשר יעקב אברהם קלמנקס. For the practice of changing names and/or adding additional first names when confronted by difficult circumstances, see R. Judah He-Hasid, ספר חסידים (Jerusalem, 1957), ed. R. Margulies, p. 214, paragraph 245 and notes. Cf. A. Teherani, כתר שם טוב (Jerusalem, 2000), vol. 1, pp. 293-315.
30 B. Pesahim 50a and parallels.
31 S. Buber, op. cit., p. 45, entry 101.
32 G. Suchestow, מצבת קודש (Lemberg, 1863), second edition, vol. 1, no pagination, entry 32.
33 The opening line ביום טוב נהפך כי טוב פעמים signals that Kalmankes died on a holiday that fell on the day when כי טוב was said twice. The next line identifies the holiday as 15 Nisan, i.e., the first day of Passover. The day כי טוב was said twice refers, of course, to the third day of creation, i.e. Tuesday. See Gen. 1:10 and 12.
34 Buber, loc. cit., writes with confidence that the highlighted letters are אמ”ת, which would indicate that Kalmankes died in [5]441 or 1681. But in 1681, the first day of Passover fell on a Thursday, not on a Tuesday. Suchestow was more circumspect, indicating it was no longer possible to determine which of the engraved letters were enlarged or highlighted. He left the problem unresolved. The usual practice for highlighting was the placement of a protruding dot over the engraved letters that were to be used for reckoning the year of death. The problem cannot be resolved by emending the second line to read ט”ז בחודש ניסן instead of ט”ו בחודש ניסן, since the second day of Passover can never fall on a Tuesday. See שלחן ערוך, אורח חיים, סימן תכח: א.
35 By highlighting the letters תתן אמ’ת’ לי’עקב’.
36 By highlighting the letters תתן א’מ’ת’  לי’עקב’.
37 These dates are based upon the assumption that the text of Kalmankes’ epitaph, as copied and published by Suchestow in 1863, is an accurate copy of the original. But this may not be the case. Suchestow’s מצבת קודש is marred by egregious errors. He sometimes copied and published as many as four different versions of the same epitaph! In another instance, he divided an epitaph into two parts, creating two dead persons when only one was called for. See the critiques of Suchestow in S. Buber, op. cit. (above, note 25)pp. vi-viii and in R. Margulies, “”,לתולדות אנשי שם  סיני 26(1949-50), p. 113 ( and throughout the later installments to this essay published in סיני between 1950 and 1952). Given that Kalmankes’ tombstone was close to 200 years old when it was copied in 1863, it is likely that the epitaph could be read only with great difficulty. While any attempt at emending the received text is speculative, a slight emendation of the first lines of the epitaph yields the following text:
שנת תתן אמ”ת ליעקב
ביום טוב נהפך טוב פעמים ואבל ומספד ונהי בכפלים
ט”ו בחודש ניסן נגנז צנצנת המן המאיר באספקלריא המאירה
The sense would be that Kalmankes died on 15 Nisan, on יום טוב, on a day when טוב was twice overturned. It was overturned first, because every day of the week of creation was described as  טוב(with the exception of the second and seventh days); and second, because it was יום טוב, a holiday. This would allow for 15 Nisan to fall on a Thursday, and indeed in 1681 (the numerical equivalent of אמ”ת), the first day of Passover fell on a Thursday. If so, Kalmankes may well have died in 1681.
38 These dates are an approximation. We know only that R. Aryeh Kalmankes died in 1671 or earlier, as his name appears with ברכת המתים in several letters of approbation dated 1671 and appended to ספר האשל.
39 These dates, as well, are an approximation. For possible evidence that R. Abraham Kalmankes died in 1681, see above, note 37. If Kalmankes was born in 1620, he would have been 32 years old when מעין החכמה was published in 1652. This fits well with his description on its title page as a רך בשנים. It also fits well with R. Joseph Samuel’s characterization of him (at the time) as an “upstart student.” It would also mean that he was nearing 60 years of age in 1678, when he published ספר האשל. This fits well with his bemoaning the fact – in the introduction to the volume – that the hair on his head and beard had turned gray and that old age was overtaking him.
40   It is astonishing that the author of the most comprehensive study of the Kalmankes family, J. Kohen-Zedek, שבת אחים (see above, note 25), concluded on pp. 67-68, that the authors of מעין החכמה and ספר האשל were two different people named Kalmankes (cousins, of course)! Among his proofs is the alleged fact that the author of ספר האשל was unaware of the existence of מעין החכמה. Alas, Kohen-Zedek overlooked the passage cited here. So too Gershom Scholem, who wrote: “המחבר [של ספר מעין החכמה] לא הזכיר את הספר בספריו הוא, כגון ספר האשל.” See the loose page in Scholem’s hand and the Scholem Library Catalogue, referred to above, note 11. Scholem, however, did not conclude with Kohen-Zedek that the authors of מעין החכמה and ספר האשל were two different people. Even more astonishing is the fact that the late bibliophile, R. Reuven Margulies, cited Kohen-Zedek’s conclusion approvingly. See R. Margulies, “לתולדות אנשי שם בלבוב,” סיני 26(1949-50), p. 219. It appears likely that Scholem (in part) and Margulies were misled by Kohen-Zedek.
41 ספר האשל (Lublin, 1678), p. 8b. We have printed the text as it appears
  in the first edition. In the 1992 edition, it appears on p. 29 as follows:
או יאמר באשר נקדים מאמר הר”י לוריא הנזכר בספר מעיין החכמה אשר הביאותיו לבית הדפוס בפ’ י”ד, שבשעת הבריאה…
 42 In general, see A. Lindey, Plagiarism and Originality (New York, 1952); T. Mallon, op. cit. (above, note 23); and J. Anderson, Plagiarism, Copyright Violation and Other Thefts of Intellectual Property: An Annotated Bibliography with a Lengthy Introduction (Jefferson, North Carolina, 1998).
43 Thus, in the introduction to the first edition of מעין החכמה, Kalmankes states:
וגם מעט מזער מדעתי הוספתי אך לזכות הרבים היא כוונתי (I added but a few comments of my own; my only intention is to benefit the many). In the Polonnoye, 1791 edition this was radically changed to: וגם מעט מזער מדעתי לא הוספתי אך לזכות הרבים היא כוונתי (I added not even the fewest of comments of my own; my only intention is to benefit the many). This change was made necessary because the kabbalistic manuscript now appended to Kalmankes’ introduction, and being published together with it for the first time, did not contain Kalmankes’ additional comments.   
44 I am deeply grateful to Rabbi Menachem Silber for reading and commenting on an earlier draft of this essay. The errors that remain are entirely mine.



A Few Comments Regarding The First Woodcut Border Accompanying The Prague 1526 Haggadah

A Few Comments Regarding The First Woodcut Border Accompanying The Prague 1526 Haggadah

The Prague 1526 edition of the Haggadah is one of the most important illustrated haggadot ever published.  It is perhaps the earliest printed illustrated haggadah for a Jewish audience and served as a model for many subsequent illustrated haggadot.[1] The earliest printed haggadah with illustration was published in 1512 in Latin and for a non-Jewish audience. That haggadah contains six woodcuts, and was intended as a response to the infamous anti-Semite Pfefferkorn’s screeds against Judaism.[2]The woodcut accompanying the first page shows three Jews around the seder who have four cups in front of them.  Although the Talmud explicitly states that one is not required to have four distinct cups of wine, presumably the image is a crude method of indicating the four-fold nature of the wine during the seder rather than prescribing custom.

The Prague 1526 edition was published by Gershom and his brother Gronom Katz on Sunday, 26th of Tevet 5287 or December 30, 1526.[3] This detailed publication information does not appear on the title page, rather it appears at the end of the book and is  referred to as a colophon.  The colophon is a manuscript convention that was incorporated into earlier printed books. The Prague 1526 edition does not have a title page at all.  At that time, the usage of the title page was only in its early stages.[4]

  1.          The Earliest Hebrew Title Pages

As with non-Hebrew titles, the title page developed over time, both in terms of content as well as usage.[5]   The first Hebrew title page is that of the Sefer Rokeah published in Fano in 1505.[6] But that title page is really one of the more basic forms of the title page, known as a “label title page” providing only the title and author and no other ornamentation or information.[7] In that same year, an edition of Abarbanel’s Zevah Pesach was published in Constantinople.  This edition was the first to contain a border with the title and author, but no place or date of publication.[8] The first Hebrew book containing all the elements of a traditional title page, border, title, author, place and date is likely the 1511 Pesaro edition of the Talmud published by Soncino.[9]

Traditionally, the Hebrew title page is referred to as a “sha’ar” or gate.  The theory behind this description is that many title page borders are comprised of “gates,” the most common are the pillars that adorn many Hebrew books and are assumed to be those at Saint Peter’s Basillica in Rome.  Their inclusion in Hebrew books is perhaps linked to the (discredited) notion that the Catholic Church maintains certain portions of the Jewish Temple, and these pillars were actually in the Temple.  The first Hebrew book to use an architectural border is Daniel Bomberg’s edition of the Jerusalem Talmud published in 1522.[10]

  1. Illustrations in Hebrew Books

Returning to the Prague 1526 haggadah, as mentioned previously, this edition was copiously illustrated, including the first page of the book. This is not the first example of Hebrew printed illustrations.  The earliest illustration to appear in a Hebrew book is that of a lulav and a handful of other explanatory images accompanying the Rome edition of the Sefer Mitzvot Gedolot dated to before 1480.[11]

 

The first fully illustrated Hebrew book was published in the incunabula period as well, it is Isaac ben Solomon Ibn Sahula’s Meshal ha-Qadmoni, printed in Italy, circa 1491, by Gershom Soncino.[12]

The border surrounding the first page of the Prague 1526 incorporates both Jewish as well as non-Jewish elements.  First, it is obvious that a Jew had a hand in the border as, in the inset, it displays someone performing bedikat hametz (searching for the bread) where he is using the traditional implements of a candle and chicken feather.  The outside border is less Jewish, and as many have noted, appears to be a copy of Italian/German renaissance borders.  The two most likely candidates for models for Prague are the border first used in the 1518 edition of Sacri Doctoris by Raymond Lulli (available here) or a border first used in 1519 for Paolo Ricci’s, Lepida et litere in Augsburg and reused in an Augsburg 1522 edition of Erasmus, Ad reverendum (available here).  Although we cannot pinpoint exactly which of these, if any, served as a model, what is clear is that among the images included in this border are bare-breasted women.

The use of bare breasted women to illustrate the haggadah is not limited to Prague. Both Charles Wengrov and Elliot Horowitz have pointed to earlier manuscript antecedents for Prague’s usage of such illustrations.[13] Aside from the printed example of the Prague 1526 Haggadah, this convention continued in manuscripts as well illuminated after 1526.  There are at least four such 16th century examples.[14] Additionally, and contrary to Horwitz’s contention that Spanish Jews were less accepting of such displays,[15] the Sarajevo Haggadah, which originated in Spain around 1350, includes two panels of Adam and Eve both depicting a bare-breasted Eve.

 

Likewise, the Golden Haggadah, 1320 Spanish manuscript includes the same form of illustration of the Adam and Eve scene.  Additionally, the Golden Haggadah includes images of nude bathers when it depicts Miriam standing from afar to see what will become of baby Moses.[16]

III.            Censorship in Modern Reprints of Prague 1526

            These historical antecedents notwithstanding, recent reprints of Prague 1526 have not been as accepting.  This initial border has been altered to airbrush and removes the bare breasts.  In 1989, a facsimile edition of Prague 1526 was published with the commentary of the Prague rabbi, Rabbi Yehuda Loew (Maharal). This border has been “touched up.”

Similarly, in 1998, a colorized facsimile edition of Prague 1526 was published.  Although the publishers took great pains to provide color where before there was black and white, they also altered this border.

Oddly enough, although they found this image offensive, they decided to reproduce it in two other places in this reprint even though this image only appears once in the original. Here is the original:

Not only is the first border altered, but other instances of bare breasts have been removed; most notably the image accompanying the verse from Ezekiel 16:7 “I made you grow like a plant of the field. You grew up and developed and became the most beautiful of jewels. Your breasts were formed and your hair grew, you who were naked and bare.”

(As discussed previously here a later, Venice 1609, edition also altered this page.)  Again in 2001, a facsimile of Prague 1526 “published by the Religious Council of Efrat in honor of the settlement’s twentieth anniversary . . . . two illustrations are surreptitiously deleted: the bare breasted woman” accompanying the verse from Ezekiel.[17] Most recently, in 2009, the airbrushed image of this woman was reproduced in The Schechter Haggadah: art, history; commentary.[18]

[1] There may be an earlier illustrated print haggadah, however, only 12 leaves of this haggadah are extant making it difficult to date (or identify the country of origin).  For a bibliography regarding this fragment haggadah see Y. Yudlov, Otzar haHaggadot, Magnes Press, Jerusalem:1997, entry 9; and most recently, Eva Frojmovic, “From Naples to Constantinople: The Aesop Workshop’s Woodcuts in the Oldest Illustration Printed Haggadah,” in The Library, Sixth Series, Vol. XVIII, No. 2, June:1996, pp. 87-109.

[2]  See R. Cohen, Jewish Icons: Art & Society in Modern Europe, University of California Press, CA:1998, pp. 21-22; see also Y.H. Yerushalmi, Haggadah; History: A Panorama in Facsimile, Philidelphia:1978, plates 6-8.

[3] Aside from the edition discussed herein, there is at least one copy of another haggadah that is also published by Cohen in Prague that same year.  While both versions are substantially similar, some of the images and borders have been changed.  Relevant for our purposes, is that the image accompanying “Sefokh” which is a full
page border with images of bare breasted women, has been replaced with a more innocuous border found elsewhere in the haggadah.  See Yudlov, Otzar, entry 8; A. Ya’ari, Bibliography of the Passover Haggadah,
Bamberg & Wahrman, Jerusalem:1960, entry 7; Rabbi Charles Wengrov, Haggadah & Woodcut: an Introduction to the Passover Haggadah Completed by Gershom Cohen in Prague, Shulsinger Bros., New York:1967, pp. 78-9.

[4] The first Prague imprint to include a separate title page is in a 1526 edition of Yotzrot published by Cohen.  See Wengrov, Haggadah & Woodcut, p. 82 n.238.

[5] Although, with regard to the adoption of the title page, Jews appear to adopt this convention at or near the time as society at large, that was not the case with other literary advances.  While the majority of the western world adopted the codex and discarded the scroll some time in the third century, the first recorded Jewish reference to the codex does not occur until the late
eighth or the early ninth centuries.  See Anthony Grafton, “From Roll to Codex: A Christian Initiative,” in Crossing Borders, Hebrew Manuscripts as a Meeting-place of Cultures, ed. Piet van Boxel & Sabine Arndt, Bodleian Library:2012, pp. 15-20.

[6] A.M. Habermann, Title Pages of Hebrew Books, Museum of Printing Art, Safed:1969, pp. 8-9.

[7] For a discussion of the development of the title page as well as the different types, i.e., label, border, end-title, see M.M. Smith, The Title-Page its early development 1460-1510, The British Library & Oak Knoll Press, London & Deleware:2000.

[8] See M.J. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus, Brill, Leiden & Boston:2004, vol. I, pp. 6-7.

[9] The border used for the Pesaro Talmuds first appeared in Decachordum Christianum (The Christian Ten String Harpsichord) published in Fano, 1507 by Gershom Soncino.  See M.J. Heller, Printing the Talmud, pp. 104-117  Additionally, see Heller’s discussion, id. p. 113, regarding Soncino’s reuse of the Dechachaordum‘s frames.  In reality, although the frames were originally cut for Decachordum, they were first used on Gershom’s edition of Bahya ibn Pakua’s commentary on the Torah, published four months prior to Decachordum.  See M.J. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus, Brill, Leiden & Boston:2004, vol. I, p. 41; Smith, The Title-Page, supra, pp. 47-59 (discussing the use of the blank title page).

[10]  See A.M. Habermann, “The Jewish Art of the Printed Book,” in Jewish Art, An Illustrated History, ed. Cecil Roth [revised ed. by B. Narkiss], New York Graphic Society Ltd., Connecticut:1971, pp. 167-68.  In Habermann’s earlier work, Title Pages of Hebrew Books, p. 9, he erroneously asserts that the earliest works to include architectural title pages were Soncino’s Melitza le-Maskil and Bomberg’s Tanach, both published in 1524/25.

[11]  See Joshua Bloch, “The Library’s Roman Hebrew Incunabula,” in Hebrew Printing & Bibliography, ed. Charles Berlin, New York:1976, p. 140.  For a description of this work see S. Iakerson, Catalogue of Hebrew Incunabula from the Collection of the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, JTS, New York & Jerusalem:2005, entry 7.

[12] See A.M. Habermann, “The Jewish Art of the Printed Book,” supra, at 169.  Habermann appears to argue that this is first printed Hebrew book containing illustrations, is incorrect. As discussed above, the first was the Rome edition of Sefer Mitzvot Gedolot. He is not alone in this error.  Ursula Schubert makes the same error.  See Ursula Schubert, Jewish Book Art, From the Renaissance until Emancipation, [Hebrew], Kibbutz hami-Uchad, Tel Aviv:1994, p. 27.  Habermann, id., notes that the great Hebrew bibliographer, Mortiz Steinschneider, was tricked with regard to one of the illustrations contained in Meshal
ha-Qadmoni
.  Steinschneider, in a discussion about the alleged Christian origins of these illustrations, called attention to the fact that in one of them contains a monk wearing a crucifix. But, in the interim we have learned “that this last embellishment was a
practical joke played by a Christian scholar. . . [the crucifix] having been added by [a later] hand!”  Regarding the history and origins of the images included in Meshal ha-Qadmoni, see César Merchán-Hamann, “Fables from East to West,” in Crossing Borders, pp. 35-44; Ursula Schubert, Jewish Book Art, pp. 27-8.

[13]  Rabbi Charles Wengrov, Haggadah & Woodcut, p. 47 nn.112-13;Elliot Horowitz, “Between Cleanliness and Godliness,” in Tov Elem: Memory, Community & Gender in Medieval & Early Modern Jewish Societies, ed. E. Baumgarten, et al., Bialik Institute, Jerusalem:2011, *38-*39.

[14] Mendel Metzger, La Haggada Enluminée, E.J. Brill:1973, plate LIV, nos. 303-305; Chantily Haggadah, Musée Condé, Ms.
732, fol. 13, reproduced in Index of Jewish Art, eds. B. Narkiss & G. Sed-Rajna, Jerusalem-Paris:1976, vol. I, card no. 36.

[15] Horowitz, “Between Cleanliness,” at *38, (“One suspects that a Spanish Jew coming to Germany in the early 15th century would have been equally surprised to see an image of a naked woman” in a Hebrew manuscript.).

[16]  The Golden Haggadah, ed. Bezalel Narkiss, Pomegranate Artbooks, California:1997, figs. 17 & 24.

[17]  Id. n.37.  Horowitz only notes the 2001 example of censorship of Prague 1526, and apparently is unaware of the earlier
examples.  Additionally, he chastises the Efrat reproduction for erroneously indicating a 1527 publication date.  Efrat is not only in erring regarding the secular date.  The first facsimile edition (Berlin:1925), which includes a scholarly introduction, full title
is:  “Die Pessach Haggadah Des Gerschom Kohen Gedruckt Zu Prag 5287/1527.” Perhaps one can excuse the error as, in reality, it was completed on the eve of 1527, December 30, 1526.

[18] The Schechter Haggadah: Art, History & Commentary, [illustrations selected and annotated by David Golinkin], Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies, Jerusalem:2009, p. 36, fig. 16.1.




The Chanukah Omission

The Chanukah Omission

by Eliezer Brodt

    Every Yom Tov has its famous questions that show up repeatedly in writings and shiurim. Chanukah, too, has its share of well-known questions. In this article, I would like to deal with one famous question that has some not-very-famous answers. A few years ago I dealt with this topic on the Seforim Blog (here). More recently in Ami Magazine (# 50) I returned to some of the topics related to this. This post contains new information as well as corrections that were not included in those earlier articles. The question is, why there is no special masechta in the Mishna devoted to Chanukah, as opposed to the other Yamim Tovim which have their own masechta?[1] Over the years, many answers have been given, some based on chassidus, others based on machshava, and still others in a kabbalistic vein.[2] In this article, I will discuss a few different answers. While, answering this question I will touch on some other issues: what exactly is Megillas Taanis, when was it written, and what role did Rabbenu Hakadosh have in the writing of the Mishna.

A first source and the seven masechtos

At the outset, I would like to point out that the first source I have found thus far that deals with this question is Rabbi Yosef Karo in his work Maggid Mesharim.[3]It is interesting to note, that the most famous question related to Chanukah was also asked by Rabbi Yosef Karo, and is commonly referred to by the name of his sefer, as the “Bais Yosef’s Kasha.[4] That question, is: Why is Chanukah eight days? Since there was enough oil for one night, what exactly was the miracle of the first night? One of the answers given to the question is based on a famous Rambam that gives an important insight about what Rabbenu Hakodesh included in the Mishna. According to the Rambam, the halachos of tefillin, tzitzis, and mezuzos, as well as the nusach of tefillah and several other areas of halacha are not included in the Mishna at all because these halachos are well-known to the masses; there was no need to include them.[5]

אבל דיני הציצית והתפלין והמזוזות וסדר עשייתן והברכות הראויות להן וכן הדינים השייכים לכך והשאלות שנתעוררו בהן אין ממטרת חבורנו לדבר בכך לפי שאנחנו מפרשים והרי המשנה לא קבעה למצות אלו דברים מיוחדים הכוללים את כל משפטיהם כדי שנפרשם, וטעם הדבר לדעתי פרסומן בזמן חבור המשנה, ושהם היו דברים מפורסמים רגילים אצל ההמונים והיחידים לא נעלם ענינם מאף אחד, ולפיכך לא היה מקום לדעתו לדבר בהם, כשם שלא קבע סדר התפלה כלומר נוסחה וסדר מנוי שליח צבור מחמת פרסומו של דבר, לפי שלא חסר סדור אלא חבר ספר דינים (פירוש המשנה, מנחות פרק ד משנה א.

(There are some achronim who posit that this rationale applies to Chanukah, as well. That is, Chanukah was also well-known, and that’s why it was not necessary to include it in the Mishna.[6] Rabbi Yaakov Schorr has a problem with the statement by the Rambam that the laws and details of tefillin and mezuzah were well known—these mitzvos are very complicated and contain many details. Indeed, they are arguably much more complex than Kriyas Shema, which does have its own mesechta. To illustrate this point, the Chofetz Chaim’s son writes that his father spent months working on just two simanim of Hilchos Tefillin for his work, the Mishna Berura.[7] So too, there are many halachos related to Chanukah, and it is hard to believe that everyone knew all the halachos. However, the Maharatz Chayes, who bases his answer to the question on this same concept of the Rambam, adds an important point which would answer Rabbi Schorr’s problem. He says that the masses all knew about lighting the menorah. All the rest of the halachos of Chanukah which are discussed in the Gemara are from after the period of the Mishna, he says, and that is why Rebbe did not include them in the Mishna.[8] Rabbi Schorr resolves his own problem by suggesting that there was a Maseches Soferim devoted to the laws of tefillin, but it was lost. He claims that it forms the basis of the Maseches Soferim which we have today.[9] With this introduction, we can perhaps understand the following answers to our question, which are based on the assumption that there was a Maseches Chanukah which was lost. The Rishonim refer to “seven minor masechtos“; however, the earlier Achronim did not have these masechtos. Today, we do have “seven masechtos “, although, as we shall see, not everyone agrees that these are the same seven masechtos that the Rishonim had. During the period that these masechtos were unknown, there was some speculation as to what they contained. Rav Avraham Ben HaGra quotes his father, the Gra, in regard to what the exact titles of the seven masechtos were, and he told him that amongst the titles was Maseches Chanukah.[10]

אמנם שמעתי מאדוני אבי הגאון נר”ו שהשבע מסכות קטנות המה חוץ מאשר נמצא לנו והן מסכת תפלין ומסכת חנוכה ומסי’ מזוזה. (רב ופעלים הקדמה דף ח ע”א) As far as we know today, we have all the seven masechtos and none of them are about Chanukah.[11]

But it is possible that there was such a masechta which was lost. Rav David Luria (Radal) assumes as much and uses this assumption to understand the Teshuvos Hagaonim and says that it evidences additional masechtos that are no longer extant.[12]

ובא אלינו איש חכם וחסיד זקן ודרש בישיבה כתיב ופן תשא עיניך השמימה וראית את השמש זה נדר ואת הירח זו שבועה… וסדר משנה תוספת על סדרי שלנו ראינו בידו שהיה מביא ולא זכינו להעתיק שסבתו גדולה ונחפז ללכת ואתם אחינו הזהרו בענין זה וטוב לכם (שערי תשובה, סימן קמג).

The Vilna Gaon’s great-nephew reports that the Gra said there was even a masechta titled Maseches Emuna, which also appears to have been lost.[13]

ואמר לי איך ששמע מדו”ז הגאון מו”ה אלי’ ז”ל שהיו כמה וכמה מסכות על המדות כמו מסכתא ענוה ומסכתא בטחון וכדומה רק שנאבדה ממנו.

The one we already had

A different answer given by many [14] is that the reason why Rebbe did not have a whole masechta about Chanukah was because there was one already: Megillas Taanis! In fact, in one of the editions of Megillas Taanis (the original edition with the Pirush ha-Eshel), it says on the frontispiece: “Megillas Taanis, which is Masseches Chanukah.” The Perush ha-Eshel on Megilas Taanis wants to suggest that the Gra did not mean that there was a masechta titled Chanukah. Instead, the Gra meant Megillas Taanis. Indeed, in earlier printings of the Shas, Megillas Taanis was included with the Masechtos Ketanos.[15] Whether or not the Gra himself meant Megillas Taanis, many do say that Megillas Taanis is really Maseches Chanukah, since the most important and lengthy chapter is about Chanukah. Therefore the answer to why Rebbi did not include a masechta about Chanukah was simply because there was one already— Megillas Taanis. This answer is backed up with a statement found in the Behag, which says “that elders of Beis Shamai and Hillel wrote Megillas Taanis.”[16] זקני בית שמאי ובית הלל,… והם כתבו מגילת תעניות… To better understand this, an explanation about the nature of Megillas Taanis is needed. Megillas Taanis is our earliest written halachic text, dating from much before our Mishnayos. Some say it was so well-known that even children knew it by heart.[17] In the standard Megillas Taanis, there are two parts: one written in Aramaic, which is a list of various days which one should not fast or say hespedim on. This part is only two hundred and seventy words long. The other part was written in Hebrew and includes a lengthier description of each particular day. The longest entry in the latter part is about Chanukah. It contains reasons for the Yom Tov and some of the halachos. With this in mind, it’s not so strange to say that there is no need for a special masechta about Chanukah. Since in the earliest written text we have there is a lengthy entry about Chanukah, why would Rabbenu Hakodesh have to repeat it? The problem with this answer is that while Megillas Taanis dates from before our Mishnayos, it contains significant additions from a later time. The Maharatz Chayes and Radal say that the Aramaic part was written very early, at the point when it was not permissible to write down Torah Sheba’al Peh. At a later point, when it was permitted, the Hebrew parts were added. Maharatz Chayes says that it was after the era of Rabbenu Hakodesh. Earlier than him, Rav Yaakov Emden wrote (in his introduction to his notes on Megillas Taanis) that it was completed at the end of the era of the Tannaim. The bulk of the discussion regarding Chanukah that appears in Megillas Taanis is in the Hebrew part. It doesn’t make sense that Rebbi did not include Chanukah in the Mishna because of sections of Megillas Taanis that had yet to be written.[18] The Gedolim who first suggested that Megillas Taanis is the reason that Rabbenu Hakodesh did not include Chanukah in Mishnayos did not realize that it was written at two different time periods. However, Rabbi Dovid Horowitz in an article in Hapeles turns the historical difficulty on its head when he argues, based on Tosafos, that the person who wrote the Hebrew parts of Megillas Taanis was Rabbenu Hakodesh.[19] The problem with Rabbi Horowitz’s point is that it seems most likely that the Hebrew portion was written later than Rabbenu Hakodesh, and most do not agree with Tosafos on this point. [20] Therefore, this answer does not explain the omission of Chanukah from the Mishna according to most authorities.[21] Another answer in the same vein was suggested by Rabbi S.Z. Schick. Rav Schick conjectures that there was a Sefer Hashmonaim written by Shammai and Hillel which recorded the nissim of Chanukah, and therefore, there was no separate Mishna.[22] This seems to be based on the quote from the Behag we brought earlier. Others say this might be a reference to Sefer Makabbim or Megillas Antiyochus. Although it is likely that these two works are from early times, it is not clear how early.[23] As an aside, there is a book bearing the title Maseches Chanukah, but it was written as a parody, similar to Maseches Purim of Rav Kalonymus[24].

Rebellion, Romans, and the Power of Tradition

Another explanation for the Chanukah omission is from the Edos Beyehosef, who quotes a Yerushalmi[25] which relates the following: A child was born to the King Trajanus on Tisha B’av, and the child died on Chanukah. The Jews were not sure whether or not to light neros Chanukah, but in the end, they did. The king’s wife told him to come back from a war that he was in middle of fighting in order to fight the Jews who were rebelling against him!

בימי טרוגיינוס הרשע נולד לו בן בתשעה באב והיו מתענין מתה בתו בחנוכה והדליקו נירות שלחה אשתו ואמרה לו עד שאת מכבש את הברבריים בוא וכבוש את היהודים שמרדו בך חשב מיתי לעשרה יומין ואתא לחמשה אתא ואשכחון עסיקין באורייתא בפסוקא ישא עליך גוי מרחוק מקצה הארץ וגומ’ אמר לון מה מה הויתון עסיקין אמרון ליה הכין וכן אמר לון ההוא גברא הוא דחשב מיתי לעשרה יומין ואתא לחמשה והקיפן ליגיונות והרגן אמר לנשיהן נשמעות אתם לליגיונותי ואין אני הורג אתכם אמרון ליה מה דעבדת בארעייא עביד בעילייא ועירב דמן בדמן והלך הדם בים עד קיפרוס באותה השעה נגדעה קרן ישראל ועוד אינה עתידה לחזור למקומה עד שיבוא בן דוד (תלמוד ירושלמי,סוכה, פרק ה)

The Edos Beyehosef writes that Rabbenu Hakadosh chose not to include Chanukah in the Mishna. If a simple lighting of neiros caused such a reaction from our enemies, all the more so if this would be included in our crucial text—the Mishna.[26]

וכתיבת דיני נר חנוכה יש בה פירסום יותר מהדלקה מפני שהדלקה היא בבתי ישראל בזמן מועט חי’ ימים בשנה חצי שעה בכלל לילה ואפ’ זה סמיה בידן להדליק בפנים אם יש חשש סכנה אבל דבר בכתב קיים כל הימים ומתפשט בעולם על ידי כל אדם המעתיקם כל מה שרוצה… ומפני זה השמיט רבי כתיבת דיני חנוכה…

Rabbi Yehoshua Preil in Eglei Tal relates that the Roman emperor, Antoninus, was a good friend of Rebbi, and he allowed the Jews to start keeping Shabbos and other Mitzvos. However, since he had just become king, allowing the Jews to celebrate Chanukah was dangerous for his kingdom. Therefore, Rebbi did not speak about this Yom Tov openly. [27]

כי הנה אנדריונוס קיסר אחרי הכניעו את המורדים בביתר שפך כאש חמתו על כל ישראל וישבת חגם, חרשם ושבתם כי גזר על שבת ויום טוב מלה ונדה וכיוצא בו, אולם בימי המלך הבא אחריו אנטוניוס פיוס ידידו של רבי רוח לישראל כמעט, אך כנראה לא השיב את גזרת ההולך לפניו בדבר חנוכה, כי באמת יקשה גם על מלך חסיד כמוהו להניח חג לאומי כזה לעם אשר זה מעט הערה למות נפשו ואך בעמל רב נגרע קרנו זה שנות מספר, ועל כן לא היה יכול רבינו הקדוש נשיא ישראל לדבר בזה בפומי…

Rabbi Reuven Margolios answers, along these lines, that the Romans at the time were interested in the Torah She-be’al Peh, specifically concerned that there was nothing in Torah She-be’al Peh that was against the non-Jews. Thus, in order that the Romans shouldn’t have the wrong idea about the Jews’ loyalty to the government, Rebbi did not want to include Chanukah in the Mishna.[28]

ובכן כאשר תלמי המלך בזמנו צוה להעתיק לו התורה שבכתב לידע מה כתיב בה כן התענייה הנציבות לידע תוכן התורה שבעל פה … דרישה כזאת היא אשר יכלה להמריץ את נשיא ישראל להתעודד ולערוך בספר גלוי לכל העמים תורת היהודים וקבלתם יסודי התורה שבעל פה להתודע ולהגלות שאין בה הטחת דברים נגד כל אומה ולשון ולא כל תעודה מדינית. ואחר אשר חשב רבי שספרו יבוקר מאנשי מדע העומדים מחוץ ליהודת שיחרצו עליו משפטם לפני כס הממשלה המרכזית ברומא. נבין למה השמיט ממשנתו דברים חשובים עקרים בתורת ישראל … כן לא שנה ענין חנוכה והלכותיה במשנה, בעוד אשר להלכות פורים קבע מסכת מיוחדת, שזהו לאשר כל כאלו היו למרות רוח הרומיים שחשבום כענינים פוליטיים חגיגת הנצחון הלאומי ותוקת חפשיותו.

Rabbi Dov Berish Ashkenazi writes that since the Chanukah miracle was to show us the authenticity of the transmission of Torah from Moshe Rabbeinu, the story of Chanukah was not written down— it is just based on mesorah[29]. Along these lines, Rabbi Alexander Moshe Lapidos answers that the reason Chanukah isn’t written down is to show the power of Torah She-be’al Peh.[30]

לא נכתבה מגילת חנוכה, לפי שנתקנה להורות תוקף תורה שבעל פה, ותולדתיה כיוצא שלא נכתבה… חנוכה המורה על תורה שבעל פה ע”כ לא ניתנה להכתב…

(תורת הגאון רבי אלכסנדר משה, עמ’ רנו)

Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach says something similar. He answers that the main bris between us and Hashem is the Torah She-be’al Peh. The Greeks wanted to take this away from us, yet Hashem made miracles so that it remained with us. That is why this mitzvah is so special to us and that is why it is not written down openly.[31]

יש להבין אם מצוה זו כ”כ חביבה היא לנו, כמו שכתב הרמב”ם שמצוה חביבה היא עד מאד, למה באמת לא ניתנה ליכתב, אולם עיקר כריתת ברית שכרת הקב”ה עם ישראל הוא רק בעבור תורה שבעל פה כמו שכתב בגיטין ס’ ע”ב ומשום כך הואיל ומלכות יון הרשעה רצתה שלא יהי’ לנו ח”ו חלק באלקי ישראל, לכן נתחבבה מצוה זו ביותר שנשארה כולה תורה שבעל פה אשר רק על ידי תורה שבעל פה איכא כריתת ברית בינינו ובין ה’ ולכן אפילו במשניות לא נזכר כלל דיני חנוכה וכל ענין חנוכה כי אם במקומות אחדים בדרך רמז בעלמא.

Another answer given by Rav Alexander Moshe Lapidos is that when Torah She-be’al Peh was allowed to be written, not everything was allowed to be written. Only later on, the Gemara was allowed to be written. Rabbenu Hakadosh only wrote down things that had sources in the Torah, or gezeros (decrees) to make sure one kept things in the Torah. Chanukah does not fall into those categories. Only later on, in the times of the Gemara, was it allowed to be recorded.[32]

דבקושי התירו לכתוב תורה שבעל פה והיו פסקי פסקי. מתחלה סתימת המשנה בימי רבנו הקדוש. ואחר זה בימי רבינא ורב אשי חתימת התלמוד, והשאר היו נוהגין במגלת סתרים עד שלאחר זה הותר לגמרי לפרסם בכתב כל מה שתלמיד ותיק מחדש. ורבנו הקדוש לא הרשה רק מה שהוא לפירוש לתורה שבעל פה ומה שיש לו סמך בכתוב, או מה שהוא לסייג, כמו הלל וברכות, ערובין, נטילת ידים, נר שבת ומגלה (מחיית עמלק). אבל חנוכה שאיננו לא פירוש ואין לו סמך בכתוב, ולא לסייג, לא היה נהוג רק במגלת סתרים בבריתות דר”ח ור”א… רק נרמזה במשנה ב”ק סוף פ”ו ואחריה הורשה לפרסם בכתב בתלמוד.

Rav Shmuel Auerbach writes: ובזה יבואר החביבות המיוחדת שבנס חנוכה, והטעם שאינו מפורש במשנה. בהשתלשלות, כל שלב יסודו מהמצב הקודם, והמשנה שהיא השלב הראשון של תורה שבעל פה, יש לה שייכות לתורה שבכתב, כי היא ראשית החלק הגלוי של תושבע”פ. וחנוכה כל מהותה היא גילוי תושבע”פ בלי מפורש בתורה שבכתב´היינו מציאות שחסר גילו שכינה ונבואה, בזמן של חושך וחורבן, ולזה לא שייך בנס החנוכה כתיבה. ודוקא המציאות שנס חנוכה לא נכתבה במשנה היא הסימן לחביבות מיוחדת, והיינו שחלקי התורה הפחות כתובים הם עילאיים. ומצב של של נס שכולו בתורה שבעל פה, ולא בתורה שבכתב, הרי כל כולו בין הקב”ה לעמו ישראל, ולא מופיע בחלקי התורה שנקראים גם על ידי הגוים בשבעים לשון (אהל רחל, חנוכה, עמ’ ל-לא).

Another answer given by Rav Shmuel Auerbach is: ונתבאר בזה גם הטעם שרבי לא פירוש דיני חנוכה במשנה. אמרו חז”ל עה”פ אילת השחר, שאסתר סוף הנסים, ופירושו, סוף הנסים הכתובים בכתבי הקודש. והמשנה אע”פ שהיא תחילת תורה שבעל פה, מכל מקום דיני המשנה הם דינים שיש להם שורשים בתורה שבכתב, וכל ענינו של חנוכה אינו שייך לתורה שבכתב, אלא הוא כל כולו תושבע”פ, שהתקוף של גילוי האור של תושבע”פ היא דוקא במצב של חושך והסתר פנים, שכבר נפסקה הנבואה, וזכו לכך דווקא מתוך ובגלל החושך, שהוצרכו לעמל ומסירות נפש כדי לגלות את אור התורה (אהל רחל, חנוכה, עמ’ קיח).

The Chasam Sofer’s answer

One of the most famous answers given to this question is by the Chasam Sofer, who is quoted by his grandson Rabbi Shlomo Sofer in the Chut Hameshulash as having said many times that the reason why the miracle of Chanukah is not in the Mishna is because Rabbeinu Hakadosh was a descendant of David Hamelech and the miracle of Chanukah was through the Chashmonaim who illegitimately took away the kingdom from the descendants of David. Since this was not to his liking, he omitted it from the Mishna, which was written with Ruach Hakodesh.[33]

מרגלא בפומי’ כי נס חנוכה לא נזכר כלל במשנה ואמר טעמו כי רבנו הקדוש מסדר המשנה הי’ מזרע דוד המלך ונס חנוכה נעשה על ידי חשמונאים שתפסו המלוכה ולא היה מזרע דוד וזה הרע לרבנו הקדוש ובכתבו המשנה על פי רוח הקודש נשמט הנס מחיבורו (חוט המשולש, דף נ ע”א).

This statement generated much controversy, and many went so far as to deny that the Chasam Sofer said such a thing.[34] The bulk of the issues relating to this answer of the Chasam Sofer were dealt with by Rav Moshe Zvi Neriah in an excellent article on the topic.[35] The most obvious objection to the Chasam Sofer is that the issue is not that Chanukah is never mentioned in the Mishna—in fact, it is a few times. The question is why there isn’t a complete mesechta devoted to it. Another problem raised by Rabbi Neriah is that, as we have seen above, the Behag writes that the elders of Shammai and Hillel, an ancestor of Rebbi, did record the story of Chanukah. Due to these and other issues, some have tried to explain the words of the Chasam Sofer differently.[36] This is not the first statement in the Chut Hameshulash that has been questioned. A daughter of the Chasam Sofer is reported to have said that the work is full of exaggerations.[37] דע לך כי מה שכתוב הרב ר’ שלמה סופר, רבה של בערעגסאס בספרו חוט המשולש על אבא שלי זה מלא הגוזמות. However Rabbi Binyamin Shmuel Hamburger of Bnei Brak, an expert on the Chasam Sofer, writes that today we are able to defend all the statements of R. Shlomo Sofer from other sources, and that it is, indeed a reliable work.[38] This explanation of the Chasam Sofer seems to be based in part on the Ramban, who writes that although the Chashmonaim were great people and without them Klal Yisroel would have been destroyed, in the end they were doomed because they were not supposed to become kings, not being descendants of Yehudah.

זה היה עונש החשמונאים שמלכו בבית שני, כי היו חסידי עליון, ואלמלא הם נשתכחו התורה והמצות מישראל, ואף על פי כן נענשו עונש גדול, כי ארבעת בני חשמונאי הזקן החסידים המולכים זה אחר זה עם כל גבורתם והצלחתם נפלו ביד אויביהם בחרב. והגיע העונש בסוף למה שאמרו רז”ל (ב”ב ג ב) כל מאן דאמר מבית חשמונאי קאתינא עבדא הוא, שנכרתו כלם בעון הזה. ואף על פי שהיה בזרע שמעון עונש מן הצדוקים, אבל כל זרע מתתיה חשמונאי הצדיק לא עברו אלא בעבור זה שמלכו ולא היו מזרע יהודה ומבית דוד, והסירו השבט והמחוקק לגמרי, והיה עונשם מדה כנגד מדה, שהמשיל הקדוש ברוך הוא עליהם את עבדיהם והם הכריתום: ואפשר גם כן שהיה עליהם חטא במלכותם מפני שהיו כהנים ונצטוו (במדבר יח ז) תשמרו את כהונתכם לכל דבר המזבח ולמבית לפרכת ועבדתם עבודת מתנה אתן את כהונתכם, ולא היה להם למלוך רק לעבוד את עבודת ה’ (בראשית מט,י).

It should be noted that not everyone agrees with the Ramban. [i][39] R. Kosman shows[40] that there was some playing around with this piece of the Chasam Sofer. In the first edition it says:

מרגלא בפומי’ כי נס חנוכה לא נזכר כלל במשנה ואמר טעמו כי רבנו הקדוש מסדר המשנה הי’ מזרע דוד המלך ונס חנוכה נעשה על ידי חשמונאים שתפסו המלוכה ולא היה מזרע דוד וזה הרע לרבנו הקדוש ועל כן נשמט הנס מחיבורו

But in the second edition a piece was added to say:

מרגלא בפומי’ כי נס חנוכה לא נזכר כלל במשנה ואמר טעמו כי רבנו הקדוש מסדר המשנה הי’ מזרע דוד המלך ונס חנוכה נעשה על ידי חשמונאים שתפסו המלוכה ולא היה מזרע דוד וזה הרע לרבנו הקדוש ובכתבו המשנה על פי רוח הקודש נשמט הנס מחיבורו

Interestingly enough, the Chasam Sofer in his chiddushim on Gittin explains the Chanukah omission based on the Rambam we mentioned earlier that says that since Chanukah was well-known Rebbe did not include it in the Mishna.[41] Whether or not the Chasam Sofer did say the explanation quoted in the Chut Hameshulash, we have testimony from a reliable source that another gadol said it. The Chasdei Avos cites this explanation from the Chidushei Harim and he ties it to the Ramban mentioned above.[42]

דבשביל שהי’ לבם של בית הנשיא מרה על החשמונאים, שנטלו מהם המלוכה, והוא נגד התורה דלא יסור משבט יהודה, כמו שכתב ברמב”ן ויחי, לכן לא הזכיר רבנו הקדוש דיני חנוכה במשנה.

Rabbi Aryeh Leib Feinstein also offers this explanation on his own and uses it to explain many of the differences between the versions of the miracle of Chanukah found in the Gemara and Megillas Taanis, and to explain who authored the different parts (Aramaic and Hebrew) of Megillas Taanis.[43] Rabbi Avraham Lipshitz says that, based on the answer of the Chasam Sofer, it is possible to answer another famous difficulty raised by many, which is why we don’t mention Chanukah in the beracha of Al Hamichya. Rabb Liphsitz says that in Al Hamichya we mention Zion, which is Ir Dovid. Since the Chashmonaim took away the kingdom at that time from the descendants of Dovid, we do not mention Chanukah in connection to Zion.[44] Another answer suggested by Rav Chanoch Ehrentreu is that the Mishna is composed mostly of various parts from much before Rabbenu Hakodesh, from the time of the Anshei Knesses Hagedolah and onwards, which is before the story of Chanukah took place. When Rebbe began to compose the Mishna there was no place for the halachos of Chanukah, so he did not put them in.[45]With this he answers another problem – we find that the early Tannaim dealt with Chanukah as we see in a beraisa in Shabbos from Ziknei Beis Shammai and Hillel so why isn’t there a Massechtah devoted to Chanukah.

שגוף המשנה על חלקיה העיקריים הוא מעשה אנשי כנסת הגדולה… לאחר ימי אנשי כנסת הגדולה השלימו תנאים במקום שהיה טעון השלמה והוסיפו בשעה שנזקקו להוסיף, וחלקו על פירושה של משנה ראשונה וגם מסרו מחלוקות אלה לדורות. אך המשנה עצמה עתיקה מהלכות חנוכה. לכן ברור שתנאים שנו הלכות בענין חנוכה ונר חנוכה, אך כיון שכבר לא נמצא להם מקום בגוף המשנה נאספו אלה בברייתות

This answer is based on the assumption that there were parts of the Mishna that existed earlier than Rebbe, and that he was just the editor. This topic of when the Mishna was exactly written has been dealt with from the time of the Geonim and onwards and is beyond the scope of this article.[46] However, I would like to make one point that also relates to this and the Chasam Sofer’s answer discussed above. What was Rabbenu Hakodesh’s role in writing the Mishna? Was he an editor that just collected previous material, or did he add anything of his own? Rav Ishtori Haparchi writes in his Kaftor Vaferach that Rebbe never brings something that he does not agree with in the Mishna.

ורבנו הקודש לא יבא לעולם כנגד המשנה שהוא סדרה וחברה

(כפתור ופרח, פרק חמישי)

The Sefer Hakrisus disagrees. He says that Rebbe was mostly an editor. He gathered existing Mishnayos and, together with other Chachomim, chose what to include.[47] מצינו בלשון משנה על רבי הא דידיה הא דרביה… נראה אף על פי שרבי סדר המשניות היו סדורות קודם לכן אלא שסתם הילכתא, וגם על פי עשרים בני תלמידי חכמים זה היה אומר בכה וזה היה אומר בכה והוא בחר את אשר ישר בעיניו אבל המשנה והמסכתא לא זזה ממקומה וסדרה הוא כבראשונה… It would seem that the Chasom Sofer’s answer could only work according to the Kaftor Vaferach and Rabbi Ehrentreu’s answer is only possible according to the Sefer Hakrisus. According to the Sefer Hakrisus, even had Rabbeinu Hakadosh not wanted to include the story of Chanukah for some reason, it was not only his say that was important. This explanation of the Chasam Sofer was the accepted explanation for many years among Jewish historians as to why the Mishna omits the story of Chanukah. For example Zechariah Frankel wrote in his Darchei Ha-Mishnah[48]:

והנה גם מצות חנוכה באה לבד בדרך העברה … ולהדלקת נר חנוכה לא מצינו במשנה אפילו רמז (ועיין ב”ק פ”ו מ”ו). ואפשר שבזמן הבית לא חלקו כ”כ כבוד למצות זאת, כי גם מלכי בית חשמונאי אשר על ידי אבותיהם נעשתה התשועה לישראל, הכבידו עולם על העם ולא נחה דעת החכמים במלוכתם, ומצאו להם די בהזכרתם בתפילה חסדי השם עם עמו, ובמשך הימים כאשר נשכחו הצרות הראשונות תחת המלכים אלה נהגו בנר חנוכה, וגם אז נראה שלא לחובה כ”א למצוה, ונתנו המצוה ביד כל איש ואיש כפי דעתו…

(דרכי המשנה, עמ’ 321).

A while back, Gedaliah Alon wrote a classic article proving that this theory was not true at all. Subsequently, Shmuel Safrai backed this up. They both showed that there is positive mention of the Chashmonaim in many places in halachic literature. Therefore, this explanation does not suffice to explain the omission of Chanukah from the Mishna.[49]

Hidden halachos

The following answers relate to the concept found in the Gemarah numerous times, known as, chisura mechsara, something is missing, when trying to understand a specific statement in the Mishna. The Gemarah says that something is missing and really the Mishna should say this… The question asked by many is how did this happen. Many years ago I heard from one of my High school Rabbyim, Rabbi Lobenstein who heard from his Rebbi, Rav Hutner that this was done on purpose. The whole Heter to write down Torah She Bal Peh was a Horot Sho as Rabbenu Hakodesh saw that it was going to be forgotten. However he did not want all of it to be come accessible to all he wanted to retain a strong part of it to be dependent on Torah She Bal Peh on a mesorah from the past. Therefore he made that certain parts could only be understood based on a transmission from a previous generation. One of the ways he did that was to leave out certain sentences from the Mishna. I later found that Rav Hutner says this concept to explain why there is no special Mishna devoted to the Halchos of Chanukah:

ומקבלת היא נקודה זו תוספת בהירות מתוך עיון בכללי סדור המשנה ובמה שהורונו רבותינו בביאורם. בתוך כללי סידור המשנה נמצא כאלה שאינם נראה כלל כמעשי סידור, כגון אין סדר למשנה, חסורי מיחסרא… וכדומה. והורונו רבותינו בזה כי גם לאחר שהותרה כתיבתה של תורה שבעל פה, ומשום עת לעשות הוכרחו לכתבה או לסדרה לכתיבה, מכל מקום השאירום בשיעור ידוע כדברים שבעל פה גם לאחר שנכתבו, בכדי שגם הכתב יהא נזקק לסיוע של הפה, וסוף סוף לא תעמוד הכתיבה במקומה של הקבלה מפה לאוזן. ודברים הללו הם יסוד גדול בסדר עריכתם של דברי תורה שבעל פה על הכתב… מאורע מועד החנוכה יהא מופקע מתורת כתב, שכן כל עצמו של חידוש מועד החנוכה אינו אלא בנקודה זו של מסירות נפש על עבודת יחוד ישראל בעמים… ופוק חזי דגם במשנה לא נשנו דיני נר חנוכה, ולא נזכר נר חנוכה כי אם אגב גררא דענינים אחרים, והיינו כמו שהורונ רבותינו דגם לאחר שנכתבה המשנה עדיין השאירו בה מקום לצורת תורה שבעל פה על ידי החיסורי מיחסרא וכדומה, ובנר חנוכה בא הוא הענין הזה לידי השמטה גמורה, מפני שאורו של נר חנוכה הוא הוא האור שניתגלה על ידי מסירת נפש על אורות מניעת כתיבתם של דברים שבעל פה. בכדי שעל ידי זה תסתלק יון מלהחשיך עיניהם של ישראל על ידי תרגום דברים שבעל פה, כדרך שהחשיכה עיניהם של ישראל בתרגומם של דברים שבכתב

(פחד יצחק, עמ’ כח-כט).

A little different explanation of the concept of chisura mechsara without tying into Chanukah can be found in the incredible work from the Chavos Yair called Mar Keshisha where he writes as follows:

ובזה מצאנו טעם חכמי משנה שדברו דבריהם בקיצור נמרץ ובדרך זר ורחוק מתכלית הבנתו והמבוקש, וטעם שניהם להרגיל התלמידים בהתבוננות וחידוד, שיבינו דברים ששמעו אף כשהם עמוקים ועלומים, ומתוך כך יוסיפו מדעתם, ויבינו עוד דבר מתוך דבר… ובזה יישבנו גם כן מה שלפעמים דקדקנו בלשון התנא בסידור דבריו ובחיסור ויתור אות אחת… ולפעמים אמרינן חסורא מחסרא במשנה… והכל הוא להלהיב הלבבות ולחדדם ע”י שיעמיקו וידקדקו בלשון התנא, ולפעמים ליישב הדין והמבוקש… (מר קשישא, עמ’ כח-כט; שם, עמ’ נו).

The Rashash says:

ונראה דלפי שהיתר כתיבת המשנה לא היה רק משום עת לעשות וגו’ לכן לא באו בה רק עקרי הדינים בלבד בלי ביאור הטעמים, וכן לא בארה במחלקות הנמצאים בה טענות כל אחד מהצדדים ופעמים לא בארה גם עיקר הדין בשלמותו… וכן חסורי מחסרא והכי קתני, כי לא באה רק שעל ידה יזכרו לגרוס הענינים בשלימותם כפי הקבלה בעל פה, ולזאת תמצא ג”כ רבות שלשון המשנה איננו סובל את הענין כפי ישוב הגמ’ בה רק בדרך רחוק ודחוק, הכי רבינו לא היה יכול לדבר צחות ולבחור לשון ערומים.. שפעמים לא ביאר את הענין בדרך רמז… ויתכן לומר דלכן קראו לאיזו מהם מגילת סתרים

(נתיבות עולם,דף קי”א, ע”א).

Another answer to the mystery of the Chanukah omission is from Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel as I will explain this too has to do with the concept of chisura mechsara. There is a famous concept of various Rishonim and Achronim. Many times, the Gemara uses the phrase chisura mechsara, something is missing, when trying to understand a Mishna. Some Rishonim say that there is nothing actually missing in the Mishna. What appears to be missing is really there, but the naked eye cannot see it. That is what the Gemara means when it says something is missing and then adds the missing text. Just to list some sources for this concept: Rabbenu Bechayh writes:

ורבינו הקדוש שחבר המשנה ולמד אותם ברבים וכתבוה הכל בימיו, כונתו היתה כדי שלא תשכח תורה מישראל שראה הרשעה מתפשטת בעולם וישראל מתפזרין בגלות, על כן הותר לו לעשות כן משום שנאמר:

(תהלים קיט, קכו)

“עת לעשות לה’ הפרו תורתך”, וכתב וחבר המשנה שהיא תורה שבעל פה, ועל כן קראה “משנה” לפי שהיא שניה לתורה שבכתב ורובה לשון הקדש צח כתורה שבכתב… ואחרי כן נתמעטה החכמה וקצרו הלבבות ועמדו רבינא ורב אשי וחברו התלמוד שהוא פירוש המשנה, כי לרוב חכמת רבינו הקדוש וחכמת בני דורו היה פירוש התורה אצלם מבורר ופשוט מתוך המשנה, ואצל דורות רבינא ורב אשי היה עמוק וסתום מאד, ומזה אמרו בתלמוד על המשנה:

(ברכות יג ב)

חסורי מחסרא והכי קתני, שאין הכוונה להיות המשנה חסרה כלל חלילה, אבל הכוונה שהיא חסרה אצלנו מפני חסרון שכלנו מפני שאין אנו מגיעים לעומק חכמת דור של חכמי המשנה…

(רבנו בחיי, כי תשא, לד:כז).

Reb Avrhom Ben HaGra writes:

ומ”ש לפעמים חסורי מחסרא והכי קתני, שמעתי מא”א הגאון החסיד המפורסם נר”ו שאין במשנת רבי שום חסרון בלישנא ומה שהוסיפו הוא מובן בזך הלשון של רבינו הקדוש ז”ל, אפס כדי להסביר לעיני המון הרואים בהשקפה ראשונה לפיהם צריך להסביר יותר, והמעיין בדבריו יראה שהוא כלול בדבריו ביתרון אות אחת, ואחוה לך אחד לדוגמא… (רב פעלים, עמ’ 107).

Reb Yisroel Shklover also writes about the Gra: והיה יודע כל חסורי מחסרא שבתלמוד בשיטותיו דלא חסרה כלל בסדר שסידר רבינו הקודש המתני’

(פאת השלחן, הקדמה).

Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel says that most of Hilchos Chanukah can be found in the Mishna. The Mishna in Bava Kamma (62b) says that if a camel was walking in the public domain with flax, and the flax caught fire from a fire that was in a shop and did damage, the owner of the camel has to pay the damages. However, if the storekeeper’s fire was out in the public domain, then the storekeeper has to pay damages. Reb Yehudah says that if the fire was from neiros of Chanukah, then the storekeeper is not obligated to pay. From here, says Rabbi Nadel, we can learn the basic halachos of Chanukah: the neiros have to be lit outside, over ten tefachim and when people are passing by. The halachos of Hallel and Krias Hatorah are found in other places in the Mishna. The rest of the halachos are side issues.[50]

ולפי זה יש ליישב דענין נס חנוכה ומצות נרות וואדי היה מפורסם לחיוב ולא היה צריך להקדמה כלל, ואף דמ”מ היה צורך להכניס יסוד הדינים במשנה מ”מ לזה סגי לפרש הדברים בדרך רמז במשנה דב”ק. דאם נדקדק בדברי המשנה שם נמצא כל עיקר דין נר חנוכה דילפינן מינה דאיכא חיוב להניח הנר בחוץ ובתוך עשרה טפחים ושיהא בזמן שעוברים בשוק, ורק אנינים צדדים כמו מהדרין וכו’ לא חשש להזכיר. ודין דמדליקין מנר לנר וכו’ איכא למילף מדיני בזוי מצוה. ויתר הלכות חנוכה הוזכר אגב אורחא כל אחד במקומו, וכגון חיוב הלל גבי קרבן עצים (תענית פ”ד מ”ה). וחיוב קריאת התורה גבי דיני קרה”ת (מגילה פ”ג מ”ד ומ”ו), ודין אמירת על הנסים לא נזכר כמו שאר נוסחי תפלות שלא הוזכרו מפני שהיו ידועים ומוסרים

(ליקוט מתוך שעורי ר’ גדלי’, עמ’ מ).

I would like to suggest [51] that this answer is similar to the famous concept of various Rishonim and Achronim [52] mentioned above, nothing actually missing in the Mishna. What appears to be missing is really there, but the naked eye cannot see it. Similarly here, Chanukah is in the Mishna, but it’s not clear to the regular person. As Rav Nadel shows, the basic laws of Chanukah are hidden in the Mishna in Bava Kamma. The Chanukas Habayis, first printed in 1641, is a special work devoted to the halachos of Chanukah. This work explains how all of the halachos of Chanukah are found in a piece of Masseches Soferim—in Haneiros Hallalu.[53] Masseches Soferim, although it was composed at a late date, is really based on an earlier work from the time of Chazal. In other words, it contains halachos which date back to early times.[54] I would like to suggest that perhaps this piece was much earlier—from the times before Rabbenu Hakodesh composed the Mishna. And because it had hidden in it all of the laws of Chanukah, this could be another reason why Chanukah was not included in the Mishna, as there existed a halacha that had in it hidden all of the laws of Chanukah—Haneiros Hallalu.

A famous controversy

This whole issue of the Chanukah omission was a small part of a famous debate. In 1891, Chaim Selig Slonimski wrote a short article in Hazefirah (issue #278) questioning why there is no mention in Sefer Hashmonaim and Josephus of the miracle of the oil lasting eight days. Furthermore, he questioned why the Rambam omits the miracle of the oil when detailing the miracles of Chanukah. He contended that the answer is that a miracle did not actually occur, but the Kohanim created that impression to raise the spirits of the people. As can be expected, this article generated many responses in the various papers and journals of the time and even a few sefarim were written devoted to this topic. A little later, while defending his original article, Slonimski wrote that we do not find the halachos of Chanukah mentioned in the Mishna, only in the Gemara. Rabbi Ginsberg, in his work Emunas Chachimim, pointed out that the halachos are mentioned in Baba Kama.[55] Rabbi Lipshitz in his work Derech Emunah, written to deal with this whole issue, defended this omission based on Chanukah’s mention in Megillas Taanis, as mentioned above. Rabbi Y. Sapir also wrote such a defense.[56]

Appendix one: Megilat Taanis and Chanukah

Earlier I quoted some that some say that the reason why Rebbe did not have a whole masechta about Chanukah was because there was one already: Megillas Taanis! I would like to elaborate on what I wrote earlier and clarify a bit more on the work Megillas Taanis, especially its relationship to Chanukah. Megillas Taanis is our earliest written halachic text, dating from much before our Mishnayos. In the standard Megillas Taanis, there are two parts: one written in Aramaic, which is a list of various days which one should not fast or say hespedim on. This part is only four hundred and seventy words long. The other part was written in Hebrew and includes a lengthier description of each particular day. The longest entry in the latter part is about Chanukah. It contains reasons for the Yom Tov and some of the halachos. A few Achronim already used the MT for Chanukah to show that the famous Bais Yosef’s Kasha of why is Chanukah eight days has been asked by the author of the MT. [58] It would appear that the Bais Yosef did not have a copy of the MT.[59] Be that as it may when one compares the passages about Chanukah in the MT to the Bavli one will find some similarities and many differences. The question is which work influenced which, did the MT influence the bavli or vice versa. The Netziv writes: ת”ר נר חנוכה מצוה כו’ עיקרן של ברייתות אלו המה במגילת תעניות פ”ט, והוסיף שם ואם מתייראין מן הלצים מנחיה על פתח בית (מרומי שדה, שבת דף כא ע”ב). The Chida writes that the Bavli was aware of the MT: מאי חנוכה… דלא על עצם חנוכה שואל, דהרי המשנה סמכה על מגילת תעניות (חדרי בטן, עמ’ צז). There is an interesting little-known correspondence on this topic between the Aderes and R. Yaakov Kahana (Shut Toldos Yakov, Siman 29) about the topic of a Mesechet Chanukah and Megillat Tannis. Rav Kahana was bothered why the Bavli left out most of the MT from its discussion in regard to Chanukah.

וצ”ע מ”ה השמיטו הבעל הש”ס דידן האי בבא ממג”ת הלא דבר הוא… וקצ”ע על בעל הש”ס ירושלמי שלא הביאו האי עובדא דחנוכה המוזכר במג”ת פ”ט המובא בשבת כ”א ב’ וגם פלוגתת ב”ש וב”ה בנרות לא מוזכר שם.

The Aderes responded to R. Kahana: ומה שתמה על הש”ס למה לא הביאו האי בבא דמגילת תענית גם אנכי הערתי בזה ומצאתי תמי’ זו בהגהת הרצ”ה חיות ז”ל ובימי עולמו כתבתי מזה בס”ד ולא אדע אנה. ואשר התפלא מדוע לא נמצא הא דחנוכה בירושלמי באמת גם במשנה לא נמצא אולם בסוף פ”ו דב”ק שם נמצא וגם מעט בירושלמי בשלהי תרומות. ואנכי מתפלא מאד דגם מצות כתיבת ספר תורה לא נמצא במשנה…

R. Kahana wrote a lengthy response. He explained that it does not bother him that the Mishana does not mention this story of Chanukah from MT as the Bavli does not mention any of the incidences in MT. He is more bothered by the omission of the Yerushalmi of this story as found in the MT, as the Yerushlmi does mention other incidences of MT.[59] As to writing a sefer Torah not being mentioned in the Mishna R. Kahana gives a lengthy list of all the Mitzvos that are not discussed in the Mishna (and the list is long). Rabbi Lifshitz writes:

העתקתי כל דברי המגלת תענית כי יש ללמוד ממנו הרבה, האחד כי כל הברייתות המובאות בגמרא אינם ברייתות מאוחרות ודברי אגדה.. רק כולם המה לקוחים מהמג”ת הקדומה הרבה… דרך אמונה, עמ’ 17). Rav Zevin writes: הברייתא של מאי חנוכה שמקורה במגלת תענית והובאה בבלי… (המועדים בהלכה, עמ’ קפז).

We see from all these Achronim that it was obvious to them that the Bavli was written well after the MT. The question is when, was the MT written. Rav Yaakov Emden writes (in his introduction to his notes on Megillas Taanis) that it was completed at the end of the era of the Tannaim. The Chida writes it was written before the Mishna.[60] Earlier I mentioned that while Megillas Taanis dates from before our Mishnayos, it contains significant additions from a later time. Maharatz Chayes and Radal say that the Aramaic part was written very early, at the point when it was not permissible to write down Torah Sheba’al Peh. At a later point, when it was permitted, the Hebrew parts were added. Maharatz Chayes says that it was after the era of Rabbenu Hakodesh. But was it written before the Bavli or after? The Maharatz Chayes concludes that the Bavli did not have the same version of Chanukah as the MT as MT that part of MT was written later. The Maharatz Chayes observes that whenever the Bavli quotes the MT and it uses the words De-khesiv it is referring to the early part written in Aramaic when it says De-tanyah it is referring to the later part.[61] To answer this a bit of background is needed; MT as we have it was first printed in Mantua in 1514. Over the years various editions were printed some with Perushim on them. In 1895 Adolf Neubauer printed a version based on the manuscripts. In 1932 Hans Lichtenstein printed a better version based on the manuscripts.[62] S. Z. Leiman has already noted[63] that this work is to be used with great discretion. As late as 1990, Yakov Zussman noted in his classic article on Halacha and the Dea Sea Scrolls that a proper critical edition was still needed.[64] A little later a student of his, Vered Noam, began working on such a project and in 2003 a beautiful edition of this work was released by the Ben Tzvi publishing house.[65] Over the years Noam has written many articles about her finds unfortunately not all of these important articles are included in this final work printed in 2003.[66] Amongst the points discovered by Noam was that the scholion[67] part (as it was coined by Graetz) exists in two different manuscripts (besides for other fragments) and that each one of these versions are very different and include different things. At a later point these two independent works were combined into a hybrid version which is the basis of our printed text today. The hybrid version included both of the earlier versions and even added things not found in either version of the scholion. In her work, Noam deals with trying to identify when all this was done.[68] One of the key questions in her work is did the scholion have the Bavli or vica versa. She demonstrates that it is not a simple issue and each piece of MT has to be dealt with accordingly to compare the versions and the like. As far as Chanukah is concerned she concludes that most of the parts from the MT are from other sources but parts are from the Bavli but these parts from the bavli that are found in the scholion versions are from a later time. [69] Shamma Friedman argues on Noam’s conclusions in regard to Chanukah; he has many indications to show that as far as Chanukah is concerned the scholion was influenced by the Bavli.[70] One of indications for Friedman was that in one of the two additions of the scholion it says כדאיתא בבמה מדליקין! To clarify this point, in one version of the scholion it says: מצות נר חנוכה נר אחד לכל בית והמהדרין נר אחד לכל נפש והמהדרין מן המהדרין וכו’ כדאיתא בבמה מדליקין. However this passage does not appear at all in the other manuscript of the scholion but it does appear in the Hybrid version with changes. In the Hybrid version it says as follows:

מצות חנוכה נר איש וביתו והמהדרין נר לכל נפש ונפש והמהדרין מן המהדרין בית שמאי אומרים יום ראשון מדליק שמנה מכאן ואילך פוחת והולך ובית הלל אומרים יום ראשון מדליק אחד מכאן ואילך מוסיף והולך. שני זקנים היו בצידן אחד עשה כדברי בית שמאי ואחד כדברי בית הלל זה נותן טעם לדבריו וזה נותן טעם לדבריו זה אומר כפרי החג וזה אומר מעלין בקדש ואין מורידין. מצות הדלקתה משתשקע החמה ועד שתכלה רגל מן השוק ומצוה להניחה על פתח ביתו מבחוץ ואם היה דר בעליה מניחה בחלון הסמוך לרשות הרבים. ואם מתירא מן הגויים מניחה על פתח ביתו מבפנים ובשעת הסכנה מניחה על שלחנו ודיו.

As an aside over here we can see the differences between each version of the manuscripts of the scholion versions one has it in one line one does not have the passage at all and one has a very lengthy version of the passage. Now these words כדאיתא במה מדליקין are not the only factor for Friedman to reach his conclusions in regard to the sources of this passage of the scholion version of MT. He has many other points but just to list one more of them. Friedman has a whole discussion about the origins of the word “Mehadrin.” Louis Ginzburg noted that:

הברייתא שם, מצות חנוכה… והמהדרין וכו’ נראה שהיא בבלית שאין לשון מהדרין לשון חכמי המשנה שבארץ ישראל

(פירושים וחידושים, א, ברכות, עמ’ 279).

Friedman has an article with various proofs to show that this is true.[71] If this is so the fact that MT uses the word Mehadrin would be another indicator that at least in this case the MT was influenced by the Bavli. According to all this it would be impossible to answer that the reason why Rabbenu Hakodesh did not write a Mascetah about Chanukah was because he was relying on MT. As discussed here this part of the MT was written long after the Mishna and possibly even after the Bavli! I would like to conclude this section with some words about the Oz Ve-hador edition of Megilat Taanis. In 2007, the Oz Vehador publishing house released a new edition of Megilat Taanis. A few years back I wrote on the Seforim Blog about some of their censorships in regard to this work. Today I would like to turn to some other issues with this particular edition. In the introduction of this work they explain that one of the benefits of this work is that they used manuscripts and on the side of each page they indicate various differences based on the manuscripts. They write that they only include the differences that are important. They then include a nice long list of all the pieces of manuscripts and Genizah fragments that they used for this work. Ten such items were consulted and used they even give abbreviations for each one of the items in the list. The problem is as follows all this is plagiarized straight from Vered Noam’s edition of the MT printed in 2003. They copied her list and order, word for word, without bothering to even try to cover up their tracks. The reason this is obvious is that Noam made up abbreviations for each of the works, as is common in all critical editions to make it easier when quoting them. Now for whatever reason she decided to choose these abbreviations, for each one of the works Oz Ve-Hador happened to pick the exact same abbreviation. For example, for one genizah fragment she labeled, Gimel Peh and for another one she labeled it Gimel Aleph. Oz Ve-Hador did the same. Now what is interesting is Noam uses all these pieces in her work, as a quick look at her apparatus will show. Oz Ve-Hador only substantially quotes two manuscripts throughout their whole work, the Oxford MS and the Parma MS. They never use any Genizah fragments so why do they even mention them with abbreviations in their introduction? If that is the case, why did they bother to even copy this whole list from her, if they did not even bother to look at any other of the manuscripts or quote them? Why in the world are the abbreviations needed in the first place? The only reason why she has abbreviations is to make the usage of her scientific apparatus user friendly, something which Oz Ve-Hador does not even attempt to do. This would indicate that the person who copied the list did not even have a clue to what it was that he was copying. One other point is that almost all the changes seem to be a minor correction or spelling mistake. When one compares this to the apparatus in Noam’s addition this is absurd. What in the world was their basis for making corrections in the work, only correcting these few things when there are many, many things to correct or at least point out to the reader? Now a careful examination of the MT from Oz Ve-Hador will leave one wondering what exactly they did as far as using manuscripts are concerned. In the Chanukah piece of MT which there are many differences and pieces in each version they were able to come up with three differences! For example the important words כדאיתא בבמה מדלקין or that this whole long piece about Mehadrin etc. does not appear in one version of MT at all, and as explained earlier both of these issues are important. This would indicate to me even more, the person or persons involved in this part of their edition had no real clue to what he was doing, he chose some differences from the manuscripts and that was it. I would even go so far as to say that they did not bother to look at any of the actual manuscripts but rather just used Noam’s work and took a few differences from the two key manuscripts and put them in their work. However I do not have the patience to prove that so it will just remain a strong hunch for now. In short we have yet again another work of Oz Ve-Hador which shows how good and accurate they are in dealing with manuscripts.[72] Another small point of interest to me was that the Oz Ve-Hador edition was careful to never call the Hebrew part of MT the “scholion,” as that was a word coined by Maskilim. One last small point of interest to me in about the Oz Ve-Hador was that they seem to have no problem with the Maharatz Chayes as they quote his piece on the MT word for word with proper attribution. It would seem they argue (as do I) with Rebbetzin Bruriah David who concluded that the Maharatz Chayes was a Maskil.

[1] Chanukah is mentioned a few times in Mishnayos but the issue here is why there isn’t a whole mesechta devoted to it. See Machanayim 34:81-86 [See Tiferes Yeruchem pp. 60, 414]. As an aside, in the Zohar there is also no mention of Chanukah. See Tiferes Zvi (3:397,465) and Rabbi Yaakov Chaim Sofer in Beis Aharon ve-Yisroel (18:2, p. 110) and his Menuchos Shelomo (11: 43). [2] For chassidus sources: see Bnei Yissaschar , Ohev Yisroel and Moadim le-Simcha p. 38. For machshava sources see: R. Teichtal, Mishnat Sachir, Moadim, pp. 411-417; Sifsei Chaim (2:131); Pachad Yitzchak (pp. 29-32); Alei Tamar (Megilah p. 87); Rav Munk, Shut Pas Sadecha, (introduction, p. 7). As to kabbalah, the Yad Neman writes (p. 2b) that when he met Rabbi Dovid Pardo, author of the classic work on Tosefta, Chasdei Dovid, he told him a reason based on kabbalah. As to why the Sugyah of Chanukah in the Bavli is in Messechtas Shabbas, see Rabbi Shmuel Auerbach, Ohel Rochel, p.82, 113; N. Amenach, Sidra 14 (1998), pp. 59-76. For general sources on this topic see Rav Moshe Tzvi Neriyah, Shana Be-shanah 1988, pp. 159-68. It was then included in his Tznif Melucha pp. 177- 182 and then later translated into English in the journal Jewish Thought, Spring 5753, 2:2, pp.23-35. Rabbi Yona Metzger brings most of this piece in his Mayim Halacha (siman 111). (Thanks to my friend Yisroel Tzvi Ickovitz for bringing this and the Shana Be-shanah piece to my attention.) Rav Freund in Moadim Lisimcha relied heavily on this article of Rabbi Neriyah as he drops a few hints in middle of his piece on this topic such as on (p. 34 n.74), but of course without mentioning Rav Moshe Neriyah name as he was a Zionist. The Hebrew Kulmos of Mishpacha magazine, issue 19 (2005), p. 22-23 has a small article on this topic from R. Rosenthal which was then included and updated in his Kemotzo Shalal Rav. He definitely did not use Rav Neriyah article as he has a very small amount of sources on the topic. This year in the latest Hebrew Kulmos, issue 107 (2012), R. Kosman revisited this topic. His article is a rewritten version of Rav Neriyah article on the topic. He also buries the source of Rav Neriyah in one of the last footnotes of his article and does not really add anything to the story as Rav Neriyah presents it. I will mention one nice new point which he adds to this topic. There are also three very important, excellent articles related to this topic from M. Benovitz, See: Tarbitz, 74 (2005), pp. 5-20; Zion, 68 (2003), pp. 5-40; Torah Lishma, 2007, pp. 39-78. I have not included much of the important information found in these articles related to this topic. See also Y. Yerushalmi, Zakor, pp. 24-26. [3] This piece is not found in the regular editions of the Maggid Mesharim but only in one manuscript printed in Tzefunot, 6 (1990), p. 86. He writes: ומסכת מגילה גם כן נאמרה בסיני, כי הראה הקב”ה למשל דור ודור… וענין חנוכה אף על פי שהראהו הקב”ה בסיני, לא ניתן ליסדה בכלל המשנה, לפי שהיה אחר שנחתם חזון. I would like to thank Professor Shnayer Z. Leiman for bringing this important source to my attention. On this work in general see my Likutei Eliezer, pp. 90-118. [4] Although it has been pointed out that many rishonim and even the Megillas Taanis deals with this issue, it’s still called the Bais Yosef’s kasha. [5] Rambam, Perush Hamishna, Menochos 4. See also Melchemes Hashem, (Margolis ed.) p. 82. Regarding the Rambam’s comments in general, see Rabbi Reuven Margolis in Yesod Hamishna Vearichasa (pp. 22-23) who raises some issues with it. He shows that there are many sources that Jews were negligent in Tefilin so how can the Rambam say that there was no need to record the Halachos as they were well known. See my Bein Kesseh Lassur, p. 230. For additional sources on this Rambam see. Y. Brill. Movo Ha-Mishna, pp. 110-112, 156; Z. Frankel, Darchei Ha-mishna, p. 321. [6] The earliest source who gives this answer is Rav Chaim Abraham Miridna, Yad Neman, Solonika, 1804, p. 2b. Subsequently, many others give this answer on their own, such as the Maharatz Chayes (Toras Haneviyim p. 105), Rav Yaakov Reifmann (Knesses Hagedolah (3:90)), Pirish ha-Eshel on Megillas Taanis (p. 58b), Beis Naftoli son (#28), Yad Yitchach (#295) Rav Hershovitz in Minhagei Yeshurun (p. 48) Dorot Harishonim (4:46a) [see also Rav Eliyahu Schlesinger in Moriah (25:123) and in his Ner Ish Ubeso pp. 338-339]. [7] Michtivei Chofetz Chaim, p. 27. [8] Kol Kisvei Maharatz Chayes, vol. 1, pp.105-106. [9] Rav Y. Shor, Mishnas Ya’akov Jerusalem 1990, pp. 33-34. [10] Rav U’Pealyim, Intro, 8a. He also brings this down in his introduction to his edition of Midrash Agadah Bereishis. See also Yeshurun 4:228. On this work see here and Yeshurun, 24:447; Yeshurun, 25: 679-680. [11] See Heiger in his introduction to Masechtos Ketanos p. 6; M. Lerner in The Literature of the Sages, volume I, pp. 400-403; and Rav Brody, The Geonim of Babylonia and the Shaping of Medieval Jewish Culture, 1998, p. 109. [12] Sharei Teshuvah, siman 143; Radal notes to Midrash Rabbah Emor (22:1). See Rav Nachman Greenspan, Pilpulah Shel Torah p. 60 and his Maleches Machsheves p. 6. See also the Radal’s comments in Kadmus Hazohar at the end of section two; Rav Dovid Hoffman, Mishna ha-Rishona, pp.12-14;Yesod Hamishna ve-Arechsa p. 29 (and nt. 15) and 17. [13] See his introduction to his work on Avos, Bais Avos. [14] The earliest source who says this is Rav Yosef Hayyim ben Siman, Edos Beyosef, Livorno, 1800 (2:15). The Chida quotes this explanation in the collection of derashos entitled Devarim Achadim (derush 32). See also his Chedrei Beten, p. 97. Rabbi Lipshitz in Derech Emunah p. 24 also provides this explanation. See also Aishel Avraham in his introduction to his work on Megillas Taanis. [15] Pirush ha-Eshel p. 58, see also his introduction to MT. The piece on pg 58 is not found in the new Oz Vehadar edition as the Pirish Haeshel was printed only partially see this post. See what I wrote in Yeshurun, 25:456. [16] Behag, 3:335. On this statement see V. Noam, Migilat Tannis, pp. 383-385. [17] Rabbi M. Grossburg, Megilat Tannis, p. 26. [18] Mahritz Chayes, vol. 1, pp. 153-54; Radal, Kadmus Hazohar, p. 269. [19] Haples 1:182. On the authorship of the MT and Tosfoes, see: Chesehk Shlomo, RH. 19a; Shut Reishis Bikurim, p. 94; Sharei Toras Bavel, p. 60. [20] For more on all this see the Appendix. Rav Neriyha (above, note two), tries to answer how this answer can work out with the assumption that it was written at two different times but what he says is incorrect. [21] This is a brief explanation of the topic of Migilat Tannis. Here is a list of some of the sources on the time period of the Megillas Taanis and the two versions (and the nature of the work in general): see Y. Tabori, Moadei Yisroel Betekufos Hamishna Vehatalmud, pp. 307-22; Yesod Hamishna ve-Arechsa, p. 12 & n.26, p. 20 ; Rav N. D. Rabanowitz, Beno Shnos Dor Vedor, pp. 28-46; See also the nice introduction to the Oz Vehadar edition of Megillas Taanis; M. Bar Ilan, Sinai 98 (1986) pp. 114-37. See also the important points in Yechusei Tanaim ve-Amorim (Maimon edition) pp. 398-399. [22] Torah Shleimah 3:156a. See also his Shut Rashban, Siman 258 .On the statement of the Be-hag see V. Noam, Megilat Taanis, pp. 383-385. [23] On these works See Radal in his introduction to Pirkei De Reb Eliezer; Iyunim B’divrei Chazal Ubileshonam, p. 116; Binu Shnos Dor Vedor, pp. 121-150; N. Fried in Minhaghei Yisroel, vol. 5, pp. 102-20; Areshet vol.4 p. 166; Y. Tabori, Moadei Yisroel Betekufos Hamishna Vehatalmud, p. 390; Moadim le-Simcha p. 253-265, and Hasmonai U-Banav p. 2, On this Megilah in general see R. M. Strashun, Mivchar Kesavim p. 144; R. M. Leiter, Mamlechet Kohanim pp. 40-159. [24]The manuscript was printed in Areshet, 3:182-191. See also I. Davidson in Parody in Jewish Literature pg 39. One of the things we see from this parody is the widespread custom of playing cards on Chanukah. Another similar parody which also has in it a Masechta Chanukah was printed in New York in 1909 and was called Talmud Yankee. [25] Edos Beyosef (2:15) based on Yerushalmi, Succah 5:1. See Y. Tabori, Moadei Yisroel be-Tekufat ha-Mishna ve-HaTalmud, p. 373 [26] Rabbi Y. Buczvah in Shut Beis Halachmei (#4) does not like this answer as than other yom tovim also should not be included. Regarding this Yerushalmi, see: Yesod Hamishna ve-Arechsa p.22 nt.5; Ali Tamar, Sukkah p. 152; Tzit Eliezer, 19:26. [27] Eglei Tal pp.17-18. [28] Yesod Hamishna ve-Arechsa pp. 21-22. See also Rav Freidman in Machanayim 16:12 and Rav M. Cohen in Machanayim 37:43. [29] Nodeh Besharyim, 110b. [30] Toras Hagon Rebbi Alexander Moshe, p. 256. [31] Halechot Shlomo (p. 306 n.42). See also Shalmei Moed p. 254. [32]This answer is brought by R. Yakov Reiffmann in Knesses Hagedolah (3:90) where he brings that R. Alexander Moshe Lapidos wrote this answer to him. This is historically interesting as it shows that there was a connection between the two even though he was a known maskil (for more on R. Yakov Reiffmann ties with Litvish Gedoilm see here ). As an aside this piece of R. Alexander Moshe Lapidos is omitted from the otherwise excellent, recently printed, collection of all of R. Alexander Moshe Lapidos Torah in Torat Hagoan Reb Alexander Moshe. A similar idea to this is found in Tifres Zvi (3:465). [33] Chut Hameshulsesh, p. 50a. Others bring this answer without saying a source see Shut Beis Naftoli (# 28); Machanyim issue # 17:11. [34] See Mishmar Halevi (Chagigah #46-47); Or Torah (1991) p. 156); Zikhronos u-Mesoros Al ha-Chasam Sofer pp. 13-14; Otzros ha-Sofer (10:96); Hasmonai u-Banov pp. 111-112. [35] Shana Be-shanah 1988 (pp. 159-68, See above note 2. It seems that Rav Neriah was not aware that it was in the Chut ha-Meshulash as he cites only to the Ta’emi ha-Minhagaim (p. 365). [36] Shut MaHaryitz (#78). [37] Me-pehem, p. 171. [38] Rav B. Hamburger in his introduction to his Zikhronos u-Mesoros Al ha-Chasam Sofer, pp. 13-14. [39] Bereshis 49:10. For some sources see Yad Neman (p. 2b); Tzitz Eliezer (19:26), Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky, Emes le-Yaakov pp. 239-40, 271-73 and Chasmonai U-Banav pp.106-113. [40] Kulmos, above note two, p. 13. [41] Chasam Sofer, Chidushim on Gittin,78a. Some want (some of the sources at the end of note two above such as R. Neriyah and R. Kosman) to use this as proof that the Chasam Sofer could not have have said what the Chut ha-Meshulash brings in his name. I think this is a weak issue as the Chasam Sofer could have given different answers at different times. [42] Chasdei Avos (#17). In general on this passage from the Chasdei Avos see Benu Shneos Dor Vedor pg 52-71. [43] Kuntres Aleph Hamagen, pp. 69-72. [44] Yalkut Avrhom, p. 203. For more sources on this topic see Rabbi Reven Margolis, Hagadah Shel Pessach, Ber Miriam, 2002, p. 109; Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, Shut Yabbia Omer, 3:36. [45] Iyunim B’divrei Chazal Ubileshonam, p. 117. [46] This explanation and this whole issue in general gets involved with the famous discussion of what was Rebbe’s role in the writing of the Mishna. Just to list a few basic sources on the topic see: Rav Dovid Hoffman, Mishnah ha-Rishonah; Y.N. Epstein, Movo le-Nussach ha-Mishnah, 2: 692-706; C. Elback, Movo le-Mishna, pp. 99-116; Rav Margolis, Yesod Hamishna ve-Arechsa pp.59-64. Y. Sussman, Mechkarei Talmud, 3, pp. 209-384. See also the excellent doctorate of C. Gafni, The Emergence of Critical Scholarship on Rabbinic Literature in the Nineteenth-Century:Social and Ideological Contexts, pp. 41-111. See also this nice new book on this topic. A. Yoreb, Ha-Shelsheles Mish Lesefer. [47] Sefer Hakriesus, Part 5, Section 2:58. I just mention this issue here briefly for more on this see the important comments of Rabbi Yeruchem Fischel Perlow to the Kaftor Vaferach, pp. 141b- 114b. [48] On Using FrankeI’s work see my Likutei Eliezer, p. 35. I hope to return to the issue of using Frankel’s work shortly but for now see the interesting letter of the Sredei Eish who writes: כבר כתבתי לו כי אני מחוסר ספרים לגמרי… וכן ספרים במקצוע חכמת ישראל, כמו… דרכי המשנה… (יד יוסף, עמ’ תסב-תסג). [49] G. Alon, Mechkarim Betoldos Yisroel, 1:15-25; S. Safrai, Machanyim issue # 37 p. 51-58; M. Cohen, Machanyim issue #37 p. 43; Ben Zion Luria, in his introduction to his edition of Megillas Taanis p.20-32. See also Y. Tabori, Moedei Yisroel Betekufos Hamishna Vehatalmud, pp.372-373; Y. Gafni,Yemei Beis Chashmonyim, pp. 261-276. [50] Likut Me-toch Shiurei Reb Gedaliah, 2003, p. 40. On this work see Y. Shilat, Betoraso Shel Rav Gedaliah, p. 9. [51] Rabbi Nadel connects his answer to the Rambam mentioned in the beginning. The connection to the topic of chisura mechsara is mine. [52] Z. Frankel, Darchei Ha-mishna, p.295; Y.N. Epstein, Movo le-Nussach ha-Mishnah,1, pp. 595-598. [53] Chanukhas Habayis, p.21. [54] See Radal, Kadmus Hazohar, beginning of section three; Rav Dovid Zvi Rothstein, Sefer Torah Menukod, in Kovetz Ohel Sarah Leah, 1999, pp.773 and onwards; Higger, introduction to Masechtos Ketanos; M. Lerner in The Literature of the Sages, volume one pp. 396-403; Rav Brody, The Geonim of Babylonia and the Shaping of Medieval Jewish Culture, 1998, p. 112. [55] pp. 4a-4b. [56] Nes Pach Shel Shemen, p. 30.This controversy generated much discussion. See the article in Sinai, 100:202-09. Amongst those who responded about this was Rav Alexander Moshe Lapidos printed in Torat Hagoan Reb Alexander Moshe p. 456-58. A very sharp response against Slonimski was written by Rav Yaakov Reiffmann, printed from manuscript by M. Hershkowitz in Or Hamizrach (18:93-101). Hershkowitz wrote a bibliography on the topic which, unfortunately the editors Or Hamizrach did not include and, to the best of my knowledge, was never printed. I am currently working on an article collecting all the material on this controversy. A response (from manuscript) on the topic from the Aderes was printed where he wrote to his friend R. Reiffmann after seeing Reifmann’s response here הנני למלא רצונו להגיד לו דעתי על מאמרו הערות בעניני חנוכה, כי כל דבריו כנים ונאמנו בדבר הזה הייתי בר מזלי’, וחלילה לעלות על הדעת כי הרמב”ם לא האמין כלל בגוף נס השמן, וראיותיו צודקות ונאמנות, והחושב על הכהנים מחשבת פיגול במומו פוסל, כפי שידענו מן התורה נביאים וכתובים היו הכהנים העומדים בראש כל ישראל ומהם יצאה תורה לכל העם כולו והם הם שהיו המורים והשופטיםובכל זאת עליהם היו ממונים סנהדרין גדולה ששפטה אותם, ושטות ואולת גדולה לחשוב מה שכתב פלוני על אודות החשמונאים, והיא רק שיחה קלה להשיב לקלי דעת המאמינים לכל דבר ולא לתורתינו ועבדי’ חכמי התלמוד הנאמנים לד’ ולתורתו, אין ספק שמידי מעתיקי הרמב”ם בא אשמת החסרון בדבריו, ואין לדון מאומה מדברי ידידי מעכ”ת שי’ שהר”מ ז”ל האמין בלבבו הטהורה פשוטו כמשמעו, ככל המון בית ישראל, כפשטות ד’ הגמ’, וחלילה לנו להשליך דברי אלקים חיים מבעלי התלמוד אשר מימיהם אנו שותים אחרי גיוינו ולנוע אחרי ספרים חיצונים אשר לא בא זכרם בתלמוד הקדוש ומוקדש קודש הקדשים, ואין המאמר שוה להפסיד העת בבקורתו ילך לו בעל המאמר בשיטתו ואנחנו בשם אלקינו ועבדיו נזכיר אנחנו ובנינו אותו נעבוד כל ימינו לטוב לנו סלה” [57] See for example; Eliyhu Rabah, 670:9; Chida, Devarim Achadim (derush 32); Yemei Dovid, p. 142, 148; Zera Yakov, Shabbas, p.13a; Mahratz Chayis. Shabbas 21b; Shut Minchas Baruch, siman 109; Rav Tavyumi, Tal Oros, 1, p. 93-94. See also R. Illoy, Melchemet Elokyim, p. 203, 215. Rav Kook, Mitzvos Rayehu, (siman 670) [58] As far as a Bar Ilan search shows. See also the article in Ha-mayan 34 (1994), pp. 21-42, about the library of the Beis Yosef. [59] For more on the Yerushalmi’s omission see L. Ginsburg (Ginzei Schechter 2:476) who writes: וראוי להעיר שבתלמוד ארץ ישראל כמעט לא נזכרו דיני חנוכה כלל לא בדברי התנאים ולא בדברי האמוראים ורק בבבל שעובדי האש גזרו על מצוה זו וככל מצוה שמסרו ישראל נפשם עליה נתחזקה מאד בידיהם… See also G. Alon, Mechkarim Betoldos Yisroel, 1:15-2; M. Benovitz, Torah Lishma, 2007, pp. 39-78. [60] Shem Hagedolim, entry for MT. [61] Mahratz Chajes, vol. 1, pp. 153-54; Radal, Kadmus Hazohar, p. 269. The question is who said all this first Krochmal in his Moreh Nevuchei Hazeman (p. 254) brings this idea and adds the Maharatz Chayes proof from the way the Gemara quotes MT and on this last part he attributes it to the Maharatz Chayes. This indicates according to S. Friedman in Zion, 71 (2006), p. 33, in a Yakov Zussman like footnote, that Krochmal was the first to say this actual idea. On the close relationship between them see M. Hershkowitz, Rabbi Zvi Hirsch Chayes, pp. 233-275. However see, A. Rosenthal, Mechkarei Talmud, 2. p. 484. See also R. Elyaqim Milzahagi, Sefer Raviah, pp. 10b-11a, who said this idea himself around the same time. [62] H. Lichtenstein, ‘Die Fastenrolle – Eine Untersuchung zur jüdisch-hellenistischen Geschichte’, HUCA, VIII-IX (1931-2), pp. 317-351 [63] S.Z. Leiman, Scroll of Fasts: The Ninth of Tebeth, Jewish Quarterly Review 74:2 (October 1983), p. 174. [64] Tarbitz, 59 (1990), p. 43, Note 139. [65] For reviews on this work see here. M. Bar Ilan, Moed, 16 (2006), pp. 114-130. [66] See V. Noam in The Literature of the Sages volume two, pp. 339-62. It is worth noting that in 2008 another important page of a manuscript of MT was discovered from the 1300’s See Y. Rosenthal, Tarbiz, 77 (2008), pp. 357-410; V. Noam, Ibid, pp. 411-424. [67] On the name scholion, see S. Friedman, Zion 71 (2006), pp. 31-33. [68] The Scholion to the Megilat Ta‘anit: Towards an Understanding of Its Stemma, Tarbiz 62 (1992-93): 55-99 (in Hebrew); “Two Testimonies to the Route of Transmission of Megillat Ta‘anit and the Source of the Hybrid Version of the Scholion”, Tarbiz 65 (1995-96): 389-416 (in Hebrew). [69] The Miracle of the Cruse of Oil: A Source for Clarifying the Attitude of the Sages to the Hasmoneans? Zion 67 (2001-2): 381-400 (in Hebrew); The Miracle of the Cruse of Oil”, HUCA 73 (2003): 191-226. See also her MT, pp. 266-276. [70] Zion 71 (2006), pp. 5-40. [71] Leshonenu, 67 (2005), pp. 153-160. See also the articles of M. Benovitz cited above in note two. See the latest Hebrew Kulmos, issue 107 (2012), p. 36 for a small article on this topic which was obviously not aware of Friedman’s article on the topic. For more on this word see; Sefer Ha-Tishbi, Erech Hadar; ibid, Raglei Mevaser; Rav Teichtal, Shut Mishna Sachir, Siman 198 [= Mishna Sachir, Moadyim 1, p. 513]; M.B. Lerner, in Torah Lishma, 2007, p. 184. [72] For another recent example of such work by Oz Ve-Hador see the latest Yeshurun 25 (2011), pp. 724-735 in regard to the supposed work of the Malbim on Koheles which was printed from manuscript. [For an updated version of this piece one can e-mail me at Eliezerbrodt@gmail.com]

 




Kitniyot and Stimulants: Coffee and Marijuana on Passover

Kitniyot and Stimulants: Coffee and Marijuana on Passover
One of the more interesting customs for Pesach in that of refraining from kitniyot. There is much discussion regarding the origins of this mysterious custom.  That is, the exact time this custom began, as well as it initial rationale is cloaked in mystery. That is not to say that numerous reasons haven’t been offered, only that we probably will never know for certain why this was enacted.  Moreover, what exactly is encompassed in this custom is similarly cloaked in mystery.  We have food items running the gamut.  Aside from the standard fare of rice, we have those prohibiting such seemingly odd foods as garlic and carrots.  Thus, it should come as no surprise that many have included foods that there is no legitimate reason for doing so. Indeed, as we shall see, in some instances the foods in question are prohibited although it is clear that the persons prohibiting them have no idea what exactly the foods are.  This hearkens to the idea espoused by Dr. Daniel Sperber, discussed in this article, and expanded upon in this book, that if one understanding of history, bibliography and other relevant areas is lacking this may lead one to make grievous errors in halakhic matters. In this post we will deal with two foods, both of which were prohibited under the rubric of kitniyot, and, apparently, those who made these decisions were unaware of the actual characteristics of the foods in question.  The two items we shall deal with are coffee and cannabis (hemp, hemp seed, and marijuana). [Our discussion below is with the recognition that one must always comply with all relevant federal and state laws and we limit our discussion to what position Jewish law takes regarding this topic.]
Coffee
Coffee was introduced to Western Europe in the 17th century. [See David Liss’s excellent fictionalized account of the burgeoning coffee trade in Jewish Amsterdam, The Coffee Trader. (Avner Gold has an Artscroll book, A Scandal in Amsterdam, that uses much of the same material, one wonders if it was “influenced” by Liss’s book.)]  With its introduction, some rabbis began dealing with its halakhic status, which blessing is required and, as relevant here, whether it is permissible on Passover.  R. Ya’akov Reischer (1670-1733), in his Shevut Ya’akov (vol. 2 no. 5), deals with both these questions.  Regarding the first, he holds a shehakol is the correct blessing.  Regarding the issue of Passover, he permits coffee.  He is skeptical that coffee would be considered kitniyot because “he has been told” that coffee is grown on trees, and whatever one may think about the scope of kitniyot, it does not encompass tree fruits.  But, R. Reischer hedges a bit and notes that even if coffee would be deemed kitniyot, as coffee is roasted, or, as he refers to it “burnt prior to Passover” this renders coffee unfit for even a dog and permissible on Passover.
R. Yosef b. David of Breslau, in Hok Yosef (no. 457, first published in 1730), however, disagrees.  He first questions the argument regarding roasting or burning the beans and notes that the roasting process is an integral part of coffee process.  More fundamentally, he argues that indeed coffee is kitniyot. He notes that his father-in-law, R. Abraham Broda, similarly held that coffee is kitniyot and prohibited.
R. Hayyim Yosef David Azulai (HIDA), disputes this holding in very strong terms.  HIDA explains (Shu”t Tov Eyin, no. 8) that these rabbis “should be forgiven [for holding coffee is prohibited as kitniyot] because coffee is the fruit of a tree.”  Regarding this classification HIDA is not speaking from second hand accounts like R. Reischer, rather HIDA notes that “a few years ago I saw a coffee tree in Amsterdam in the botanical gardens, as well as in Pisa and thus there is no reason to be strict regarding coffee.”  HIDA in his travelogue describes in detail his visit to the Amsterdam botanical gardens, Hortus Medicus. On the 18th of Iyar, 1778, in the afternoon,  HIDA went to the gardens. He says “that these gardens are truly indescribable they are so beautiful, all the plants and grasses are in rows, and everything is so clean, it is a testament to human intelligence.  Every plant is labeled. There are plants from America, Portugal and Turkey all in rows according their nationalities.  The wall have holes where fires can be lit to control the temperature of the gardens and ensure that the plants can survive even in the cold climate of Amsterdam.  Among the plants I saw was the coffee plant.”  (Ma’agel Tov ha-Shalem p. 150-51 ) While HIDA is unwilling to accede that these rabbis were completely unaware that coffee is tree fruit, it begs the question what those who prohibit coffee were thinking in considering coffee kitniyot.
It is not only those who prohibit coffee who seem to be unaware of exactly what they are discussing.  More recently, R. Yitzhak Isa’ak Weiss (1875-1944), one of the Spinka Rebbis, discusses “two” types of coffee, one grown on trees and the other grown “in gardens.”  He ultimately holds that both types of coffee are permitted, but the issue is that coffee always grows on tress.  There are two major types of coffee, arabica and robusta, both of which grow on trees.  Perhaps what R. Weiss is discussing is another type of coffee – one that was commonly substituted for coffee – but is not in fact coffee.  The common substitute, which has its own history and own halakhic issues, is chicory. [See. R. Y. Goldhaver’s excellent articles regarding chicory and its treatment under Jewish law in Yeshurun 19:792-834, 20:839-864] Chicory is indeed a bush and not a tree and perhaps is what R. Weiss is discussing.
Today, for most (with Passover, one can almost always find a group that prohibits something) coffee is not deemed kitniyot and is Kosher for Passover.  Indeed, one of the more common haggadot is the one produced by the Maxwell House Coffee company. (For more on the Maxwell House haggadah see our  post, “On The Maxwell House Haggadah.”)  One scholar has commented on this phenomenon: “As always, entrepreneurs, Jewish and otherwise, capitalized on wives’ and mothers’ desires to have just the right foods on the table for Passover, that longest standing of traditions.  Maxwell House coffee, reportedly, caused a stir at many seder meals when it introduced a new ‘tradition’ of drinking coffee rather than tea at the end of the sumptuous holiday banquet. A decade or so later, the company would print its own Haggadah to insure a ‘unique relationship between a product and a people.” (Jeffrey S. Gurock, Orthodox Jews in America (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2009), p. 151.) Maxwell House even advertised in Yiddish in HaPardes: [Thanks to M. Butler for these two sources.]

 

Marijuana
In 2007, the Green Party in Israel made headlines in coming out that Ashkenzim should not smoke marijuana on Passover.  There were articles from the Jerusalem Post on the topic as well as other publications.  Most are notable only in that how poor they are in substance.  Indeed, another recent example can be found here.  Although from reading these articles one may get the sense that rabbis haven’t discussed the marijuana, indeed there is at least one responsa on cannabis, the plant from which marijuana is derived, and its status on Passover.
R. Yitzhak Ya’akov Weiss (1902-1989), in Shu”t Minhat Yitzhak (vol. 3 no. 138(b)), discusses cannabis on Passover.  Specifically, he is dealing with two foods, cannabis and cotton-seed oil, but we will focus on cannabis. Prior to engaging in this discussion we should note that the cannabis plant produces three things: (1) hemp which is fibrous and can be used to make clothing, and was commonly used to make strong rope; (2) hemp seed, which is used in food and in some homeopathic remedies; and (3) as a narcotic referred to as marijuana. [See also Y. Felix, Marot ha-Mishna, Jerusalem: 1977, p. 131; and Z. Amar, “Hashish and the Hashishim in Eretz Yisrael and Syria During the Medieval Period,” in Ariel 120 (1997), pp. 277-282 (he discusses, among other topics the band of assassins that are associated with the narcotic).]  R. Weiss first notes that cannabis shouldn’t be questionable at all for Passover as Rambam, in the laws of prohibited mixing of seeds, labels cannabis as a vegetable and not kitniyot.  However, R. Weiss points out that there is an internal problem with the Rambam, one that many of commentaries on Rambam have dealt with, but not to R. Weiss’s satisfaction. It should be noted that one commentary, Radbaz (1479-1589 or 1463-1573), in his discussion of this issue makes it apparent that he is aware of cannabis’s narcotic use.  He explains that “in Egypt they eat [smoke?] cannabis and become high and those who do report that it makes them very happy . . . in other places they use cannabis to make clothing like linen.” Returning to the conflict in Rambam, R. Weiss’s solution is that there is no conflict and instead Rambam is referring to two distinct plants both of which are called cannabis.  He arrives at this conclusion by noting that cannabis is defined differently.  Some define cannabis as a fiber and others refer to it as a food item.  Thus, he concludes that there must be two different plants which share the same name.  This conclusions is of course wrong.  There are not two distinct plants but a single plant that has a variety of uses.  [Additionally, it should be noted that R. Weiss “proves” his point by referencing a Mishna that contains nikkudot.  He doesn’t identify which edition he is referring to – Kehati or some other, but using such a source is highly questionable. The Kaufmann Mishna, one of the oldest examples of a nikkud mishna doesn’t contain both mentions of cannabis in the Mishna and therefore it is impossible to determine if the nikkud follows that advocated by R. Weiss.]
R. Weiss, based upon his non-existent two plant types, concludes that hemp would be included in the prohibition of kitniyot. In so doing, R. Weiss provides yet another example of someone incorrectly categorizing a food based on lack of knowledge of the plant itself. In all events, this responsum of R. Weiss, even though it is incorrect, is not referred to in any of the above cited articles.  Indeed, the Star-K reaches the opposite conclusion and lists hemp and hemp seed as permitted on Passover (so long as one ensures there are no errant grains mixed in). Thus, it appears that marijuana would equally be deemed non-kitniyot.
Even if one accepts that marijuana is kitniyot, there is another reason that smoking it on Passover would be permitted.  This is so as R. Ya’akov Emden, (Mor u-Kitziya no. 511) discusses using tobacco on Passover where there is a fear that the tobacco may have been soaked in beer.  R. Emden explains that using such tobacco poses no problem on Passover for many reasons.  In fact, he is so sure that such tobacco is permitted he “would have announced that Jew can affirmatively soak his tobacco in beer prior to Passover, but for the fact that am haratzim would view this as wrong.” [In part this sweeping permission is due to the fact that tobacco is inedible and thus immediately after the beer is mixed in it is no longer edible.]  R. Emden concludes that he “remembers that his father [R. Tzvi Ashkenzi, Hakham Tzvi] used to laugh at those who displayed piety (mit-hassdim) and purchased Kosher for Passover tobacco.”  R. Emden’s rationale applies with equal force to marijuana.  In particular, R. Emden explains that smoking is merely deriving benefit and not considered ingesting the item in question.  This is so even if one derives benefit through one’s mouth.  R. Emden goes further to allow one to use snuff where one is partially ingesting the tobacco.  Thus, according to R. Emden, smoking something that contains hametz (beer) is not a problem, surely something that is kitniyot would pose no problem. Therefore, presuming one is smoking marijuana, this would be allowed on Passover even according to those who consider it kitniyot.
What is particularly surprising is that if one is resorting to Jewish law to determine the status of marijuana, this question is not limited to Passover.  Indeed, irrespective of marijuana’s status vis-à-vis Passover, various Rabbis have opined that using marijuana is always prohibited. For example, R. Moshe Feinstein (Shu”t Iggerot Moshe, Y”D vol. 3, no. 35) was asked about “the Yeshiva bochorim that have begun to smoke hashish (marijuana)” and if this is permissible.  R. Feinstein replies unequivocally that according to Jewish law the practice is prohibited. Similarly, R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach prohibits the use of marijuana.  (Nishmat Avraham, O”H no. 155, no. 4)  He also deals with the issue of if one is under the influence what is their halakhic status. (Shulchan Shelmo, Refuah, vol. 2, p. 223).
Additional Sources Regarding Kitniyot Generally:
Israel Ta-Shma, “Prohibition of Kitniyot on Pesach,” Early Franco-German Ritual and Custom (Jerusalem: Hebrew University Magnes Press, 1992), p.271-282 (Hebrew)
R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin, Ha-Mo’adim be-Halakha, pp. 305-312
Simcha Emanuel, Deroshot ha-Rokeach le-Pesach, Mossad Bialik, pp. 51-53 (reviewed here)
Shut Beis Mordecai (Fogelman) #23
R.Yakov Chaim Sofer, Menuchas Sholom 7, 93-99, Menuchas Sholom, 8, p. 219-230
Minhag Avotenu be-Yadnu, 2, Chapter 20
There is also a chapter on kitniyot in Mo’adim le-Simcha although there are some inaccuracies contained therein.  Additionally, some of those inaccuaries are the same that appear in the early article in Minhag Yisrael Torah vol. 2 no. 457, thus providing yet another example of plagiarism on the Mo’adim le-Simcha‘s part.  

 




Who was Reb Shlomo?

Who was Reb Shlomo? by Natan Ophir (Offenbacher)
 
Natan Ophir’s book, Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach: Life, Mission, and Legacy, has just appeared. This is a complete biography of Carlebach’s life (not a hagiography) and is essential for anyone with an interest in Carlebach. The Seforim Blog is happy to include this excerpt from the book, pp. 413-419.
1.      Who was Reb Shlomo?
Who was Reb Shlomo Carlebach? This question was deliberated in the obituaries after his death. Elli Wohlgelernter of The Jerusalem Post tried to describe Shlomo’s elusive uniqueness:
The obituaries referred to Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach as the “Singing Rabbi,” but that’s like describing Yankee Stadium as just some ballpark in the Bronx…. To have spent any time with Shlomo – that’s all he was called, never Rabbi Carlebach – was to understand this: he was his own kind of rabbi and they were his own songs, and they will be sung for as long as Jews gather to sing and dance….He was part hippie, part yippie, part beatnik, and part New Age. He was Dylan, Elvis, Arlo and Seeger all rolled into one, with a touch of Sholem Aleichem and Mark Twain.[1]
Indeed, Shlomo just didn’t seem to fit into any restrictive defining label. Menachem Daum, in a video report for Religion News and Ethics, labeled Rabbi Carlebach as the “most unorthodox Orthodox rabbi.” Moshe Stern, the internationally renowned cantor, characterized Carlebach as a combination of “a prodigal tzaddik, a musical genius, perhaps a religious exegete, a hippie in religious-ultra-orthodox garb.” Stern highlighted the all-encompassing nature of Reb Shlomo’s personality which defied categorization:
His greatest strength was and remains chiefly his ability to be all encompassing, a kind of prototype for felling the divides, for blurring the borders. This, it seems, is what the ears and souls of many in that younger generation latched onto, seeking as they did an escape path from the rigid categorizing enforced on them by the split reality of Israeli life.[2]
Similarly, Robert L. Cohen asks: Was there ever such an “embodied paradox, a bundle of contradictions?”[3] Cohen enumerates some of the seemingly contradictory aspects of Shlomo’s life. For example:
A thoroughgoing traditionalist, with Orthodox yeshiva education and rabbinical ordination, he outraged the Orthodox; a man for whom “pluralism” was an alien, ill-fitting concept, he was an implicit pluralist – teaching and singing everywhere, honoring rabbis of every denomination and encouraging others’ unorthodox paths.[4]
Shlomo was equally at home with the Admor of Amshinov, the homeless in Riverside Park, and Hadassah women. But there were subtle differences in how he presented himself. It was a different type of Shlomo comforting soldiers in hospitals during the Yom Kippur War, and another Shlomo singing for Christians in Poland and Germany.
A 1994 obituary by Yossi Klein Halevi in The Jerusalem Report used the term “Pied Piper of Judaism” to describe how Shlomo “taught an orphaned generation numbed by the Holocaust and assimilation how to return to joy.” Halevi captured the uniqueness of Shlomo’s concerts:
A Shlomo concert was part 60s-style happening, part Hasidic revival…. Shlomo always appeared with an entourage – strung-out street people, rebellious yeshivah boys, spiritual seekers, groupies… The only constant was Shlomo himself: his beautiful melodies; his deep, sure voice; his at-once profound and hokey rap ranging from Hasidic stories to exhortations for people to love each other, to mocking and very funny critiques of both ultra-Orthodoxy and Reform Judaism.[5]
The question of who was Reb Shlomo was often a reflection of how people related to him. Sometimes, it was Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach officiating in rabbinical functions such as weddings. Most disciples preferred the appellation “Reb Shlomo” to indicate a Hasidic closeness and warmth.[6] But for many followers, it was simply “Shlomo,” the best friend, informal confidant, eschewing titles or other artificial barriers. He was the rabbi poised at the entrance to his shul on West 79th St. to welcome all with a bear hug. In the setting of Manhattan’s street corners, he was a “holy brother” to many a “holy beggar.”
With a natural ease, Reb Shlomo also assumed the role of a charismatic prayer leader. For example, on Hoshana Rabbah services at West 79th St., wearing a white kittel and black gartel, he was like a choirmaster orchestrating the musical accompaniment of trumpet, violin and
singing congregation. In the full hour-long video dated September 26, 1994 at the Carlebach Shul, one can see the epitome of the new religious structure invented by Reb Shlomo: integrating a selection of his songs for the Hallel, each setting a different mood and spiritual direction; the symbolic waving of the lulav and arava with joyful dancing, and interjections in English creating a thoughtful direction.[7]
This is the Shlomo leading a new form of religious experience specifically adapted to the Orthodox community.
Shlomo was able to blend in to so many different types of communities because he reflected sundry images to diverse audiences. Prof. Shaul Magid uses the metaphor of a mirror:
Most remember him as a mirror: They saw in him what they wanted him to be, or what they imagined themselves to be…. each of his followers heard what he or she wanted and constructed him in their image. The Orthodox offer one reading, the neo-Hasidim another, Diaspora Jews another, Israeli Jews another; leftists read him one way, Jewish militants another. The point is none of them really know… He bequeathed a “Judaism of uncertainty” (“what do we know?” was his catchphrase) so that everything could be reviewed and revised, in the spirit of love and not separation, on compassion and not exclusion.[8]
Nonetheless, of all the images of Shlomo, the most well-known is that of the Singing Rabbi, the father of modern Hasidic music.
2. The Foremost Songwriter in Judaism?
Ari Goldman, in The New York Times obituary in 1994, designated Shlomo Carlebach “the foremost songwriter in contemporary Judaism.”[9] Recently, Goldman reiterated this statement, adding that it has never been disputed.[10] In 1997, music historian, Robert L. Cohen, referred to Shlomo as “the most prolific composer of liturgical folk melodies in this, perhaps any, century.”[11] In a later article, Cohen explained that Carlebach “opened the gates for a new generation of niggun makers” by creating music with a Hasidic flavor that could be accessible to young Americans:
Shlomo Carlebach had a phenomenal gift for melodies that conveyed yearning and joy, sweetness and exultation all at once… His
example inspired an entire generation to set traditional, and some original, verses to their own new melodies… The result has been a garland of new Jewish music – of new wings for our prayers.[12]
This type of recognition recurs in various Jewish encyclopedias and year books. Mark K. Bauman in the 2011 Jewish American Chronology, recognized Shlomo as “the twentieth century’s most prolific and influential composer of Jewish music and a key ambassador of spirituality,
especially to Jewish youth.”[13] Judah M. Cohen, in the Encyclopaedia Judaica entry, defined Carlebach’s extraordinary influence:
At the time of his death, Shlomo Carlebach had become a legend of sorts, having recorded over 25 albums, composed up to 5,000 songs, performed on five continents, released two official songbooks, amassed a broad following, granted semikhah to both male and female students, and given away nearly all his earnings. Several of his songs, moreover, had become “traditional” during Jewish events; revelers would sing such songs as “Esa Einai,” “David Melekh Yisrael,” “Am Yisrael Chai,” and “Od Yeshoma.”[14]
Mark Kligman, professor of Jewish Musicology at Hebrew Union College in New York, in his survey of contemporary Jewish music in the American Jewish Year Book (2001) stated: “Jewish musical artists of today consider Shlomo Carlebach the father of contemporary Jewish music.”[15] Kligman explains that the most innovative part of Shlomo’s musical success was “the blending of Hassidic song with folk music”:
Combining the participatory ease of folk music, the energy of the newly created music from Israel, and the religious fervor of the Hassidic niggun, he succeeded in moving liturgical music out of the synagogue and into a wide range of other settings, including concert halls and night clubs, and used his music to educate and inspire Jews to renew their Jewish identity and discover the beauty of Jewish life.[16]
Nonetheless, not all Jewish musicologists have recognized Shlomo’s importance. Cantor Macy Nulman in his 1975 comprehensive encyclopedia of Jewish music does not have an entry for Shlomo Carlebach.[17] Similarly, in his 1992 masterful survey of Jewish musical traditions, Hebrew University Professor of Musicology, Amnon Shiloah, does not mention Shlomo.[18] Presumably, part of the reason is that popular Hasidic folk songs are not on the same level as professional music. Indeed, Shlomo’s musical success is remarkable considering that he never really trained as a professional musician, and apart from a few voice lessons in Manhattan, was not an expert cantor. Or as Shlomo self-effacingly explained in an interview to Elli Wohlgelenter:
I don’t think I have a good voice. I think my voice is just good enough to inspire people to sing with me. If I would have a gevalt voice like, let’s say, Moshe Koussevitzky, then nobody would want to sing with me, because then they’ll think they don’t want to miss my voice, but my voice is just good enough to make them sing.[19]
Shlomo’s self-comparison to the renowned cantor Moshe Koussevitzky highlights a key ingredient of his musical success. Rather than impress an audience by a beautiful recital, Shlomo led a sing-along of catchy tunes. A typical Carlebach tune is easy to follow.[20] At Shlomo events, participants quickly learned his new songs thus furthering their popularity.
Musicologist Velvel Pasternak explained that if judged by objective musical standards, Shlomo was not the most outstanding composer, singer or guitarist, but his success was due to an uncanny ability to strike an immediate responsive chord in the ears of his listeners:
Even a seemingly banal sounding melody became a hypnotic and mesmerizing chant. The simplicity of his melody line, the intensity of his performances, the charisma of his personality, served to create a worldwide musical following.[21]
Furthermore, by adapting the form and fervor of a Hasidic farbrengen (see above, Chapter 6), Shlomo constructed a new hybrid of folk singing and semi-prayer. To quote the insightful appraisal of Motti Regev and Edwin Seroussi:
Armed with a guitar, dressed like an “orthodox hippie,” and using the most basic harmonies and short, repetitive melodies, Carlebach appeared at concerts that became a kind of unorthodox prayer that recalled the traditional Hassidic tish, an assembly of Hassidim around the table of the rebbe, held on special dates, and characterized by singing and dancing.[22]
In sum, the amalgamation of a Hasidic tish, inspirational storytelling, emotional insights, and ethical exhortations created the innovative Carlebachian musical experience. Samuel C. Heilman, professor of Sociology at Queens College CUNY, describes Shlomo Carlebach as a product of a synergy between Hasidic, Israeli, and American trends:
He attached himself to Hasidic prayer styles from which he took the idea of expressive enthusiasms in prayer and devotional ecstasy as part of Jewish outreach. From American new folk idioms, he took the guitar, rhythms, the practice of sing-alongs, the “talking blues,” concertizing, and the idea of making recordings. From Israeli culture, he borrowed the idea of shirah b’tzibbur, i.e., choral singing as a tool of social solidarity. All these he mixed syncretistically to develop his particular style.[23]
Indeed, this description sums up the secret of the appeal to Reb Shlomo’s music. He was able to bring together the popular folk music of the 1960s and the fervor of Hasidic niggunim to create a new genre of music. But Heilman goes further and explains:
Contemporary Carlebach minyanim have elevated him and his approach to a kind of mythic status. Reb Shlomo, as devotees refer to him these days, is the modern Jew’s counterpart to the Hasidic rebbes and other immortals that the Haredi world has enshrined. Like these rebbes, he is frequently resurrected in stories, songs, aphorisms, and teachings that are meant to shape the attitudes and religious character of those who invoke his memory.[24]
.
[1] Elli Wohlgelernter, “Simply Shlomo,” The Jerusalem Post, April 20, 1995.
[2] Ronit Tzach in Yediot Aharonot, Seven Day Magazine, Feb. 4, 2005, 34. Cited in Shmuel Barzilai, Chassidic Ecstasy in Music (Frankfurt am Main: 2009), 152.
[3] This witty aphorism is a quote from Charles Caleb Colton (1780–1832), Lacon or Many things in Few Words: Addressed to Those Who Think,vol.1, books?id=6AclAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA180&img=1&pgis=1&dq=paradox&sig=ACfU3U0aMhUVF-mTU8guK4hy2jQQRHDH4A&edge=0CCCCVII, p. 1980.
[4] Robert L. Cohen, “Jewish Soul Man.” Moment, August 1997, 59–64, 83.
[5] Yossi Klein Halevi, “The Pied Piper of Judaism,” The Jerusalem Report, Nov. 17, 1994, 45.
[6] Shlomo explained the advantages of using the designation “Reb” rather than “Rabbi” by playfully distinguishing the letters. “Rabbi” is a combination of Ra (Hebrew for “bad”) and Bi (“he gets by”), whereas “Reb” is a shortened form of “Rebbe,” and in Hebrew means “Rabbi” with the letter yod, signifying the Divine Presence – “God is so tremendous inside” – God’s Light in you. Shlomo’s explanation can be heard on segment 4:53–5:11 in part 4 of “Rabbi Shlomo In Concert”, YouTube, http://bit.ly/1bq3rE0. This is from his concert in Feb. 1994 in Miami Beach.
[7] For an hour long program of Reb Shlomo leading the singing for the Hoshana Rabbah service at the Carlebach Shul on 79th St., see Kikarhashabat.co.il; http://bit.ly/16CTaBM. Compare http://bit.ly/1dbGmHj; http://bit.ly/18pI96e. A record was produced entitled R. Shlomo Carlebach – The Last Hoshana Raba, http://bit.ly/HjJRAv, http://bit.ly/1g44CyH; http://bit.ly/18pHZMk.
[8] Shaul Magid, “Carlebach’s Broken Mirror,” Tablet Magazine, Nov. 1, 2012, TabletMag.com, http://www.tabletmag.com; http://bit.ly/1ac2Yc6.
[9] Ari L. Goldman, “Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach,” New York Times, Oct. 22, 1994.
[10] Ari L. Goldman, “Why Carlebach Matters,” The Jewish Week, May 8, 2009.
[11] Cohen, “Jewish Soul Man,” 59.
[12] Robert Cohen, “New Wings for Our Prayers: On American Jewish Music,” Open the Gates!, vol. 1, 2005, excerpted in Tikkun, March 27, 2008, Tikkun.org, http://bit.ly/17Qyw1k. Cohen’s essay accompanies the CD American-Jewish Music for Prayer and describes Jewish religious folk music, its inspiration in the Hasidic movement and its cultural roots in American folk music. The CD includes 18 different composers and performers of prayerful melodies and #17 is “Ein Keilokeinu” of Shlomo Carlebach.
[13] Mark K. Bauman, Jewish American Chronology: Chronologies of the American Mosaic (Santa Barbara, California: 2011), 119.
[14] Judah M. Cohen, “Carlebach, Shlomo,” Encyclopaedia Judaica, 2nd ed., vol. 4, 481–482.
[15] Mark Kligman, “Contemporary Jewish Music in America,” in David Singer and Lawrence Grossman (eds.), American Jewish Year Book. New York: 2001, vol. 101, 88–140.
[16] Kligman, “Contemporary Jewish Music.”
[17] Macy Nulman, The Concise Encyclopedia of Jewish
Music
(New Zealand: 1975).
[18] Amnon Shiloah, Jewish Musical Traditions (Detroit: 1992). His book is based on a course in Hebrew that Shiloah prepared for the Open University in the years 1985–1987.
[19] Wohlgelernter, “Simply Shlomo.”
[20] A typical Carlebach tune has two contrasting sections of only eight bars each, with the second one in a higher register, melodic sequences, and constant syncopation (with the rhythm accenting a normally weak beat) – see Motti Regev and Edwin Seroussi, Popular Music and National Culture in Israel (Berkeley–Los Angeles–London: 2004), 129.
[21] Velvel Pasternak, “A Musical Legacy,” Aquarian Minyan Newsletter, Autumn–Winter, 1995, reprinted in David Wolfe-Blank (ed.), The Aquarian Minyan KhaZak! Khazak!, 388–389.
[22] Regev and Seroussi, Popular Music, 127–128.
[23] Adapted from Samuel C. Heilman, Sliding to the Right: The Contest for the Future of American Jewish Orthodoxy (Berkeley and Los Angeles: 2006), 291.
[24] Ibid.



The Anonymous Author of Tikkunei Zohar and Ra‘ya Mehemna: An Antinomian or a Radical Maimonidean?

The Anonymous Author of Tikkunei Zohar and Ra‘ya Mehemna: An Antinomian or a Radical Maimonidean?

By Bezalel Naor

Today, it is an accepted fact in scholarly circles that Tikkunei Zohar and Ra‘ya Mehemna form a single unit that postdates the main body of Zohar.[1] More than one reader has been scandalized by statements in Tikkunei Zohar and Ra‘ya Mehemna likening the Mishnah to a shifhah or maidservant.[2] Predictably, in response, there grew an apologetic literature that attempts to justify how such shocking statements are compatible with normative Halakhah.[3]

One cannot rule out altogether the assertion by various secular historians that these pejorative statements betray an antinomian streak,[4] though to be certain, such statements of Tikkunei Zohar and Ra‘ya Mehemna are not situated in the present but deferred to the future. With this proviso, they are no more “antinomian” than the statement of Rav Yosef in the Talmud: “Mitsvot (commandments) are nullified in the future.”[5]

I wish to present a hitherto unexplored possibility. It seems likely that the anonymous author of Tikkunei Zohar and Ra‘ya Mehemna (which surfaced in Spain in the first decades of the fourteenth century)[6] was not so much an antinomian as a radical Maimonidean. It is in this light that we should understand negative statements issuing from the author regarding the study of Mishnah or those comparing the various Talmudic exercises and mental gymnastics to the backbreaking labor to which the Children of Israel were subjected in Egyptian exile.[7] These do not spring from an anti-halakhic mindset but rather from taking at face value Maimonides’ syllabus as laid out in his introduction to Mishneh Torah:

Hence, I have entitled this work Mishneh Torah (Review of the Law), for the reason that a person, who first reads the Written Law and then this [compilation], will know from it the whole of the Oral Law, without having need to read any other book between them [italics mine—BN].

We should be asking ourselves: Are there any historical grounds to assert that in Spain in the early 1300s there were halakhic Jews who openly—we should add, brazenly—promulgated the Maimonidean curriculum to the exclusion of Talmudic studies and the concomitant exercise of pilpul?

I offer the words of Joseph Ibn Kaspi:

Therefore my rabbis, listen to me and God will listen to you! I see that it is the intention of those among you who engage in Gemara, novellae and opinions (shitot),[8] to know proofs for the practical commandments, for you are not satisfied with the tradition from Mishneh Torah composed by Rabbenu Moshe [i.e. Maimonides], though he said: “And one shall have no need of any other book between them [Italics mine—BN].”

Here is an example. Ha-Rav ha-Moreh [i.e. Maimonides] wrote in his laws: “A sukkah that is higher than twenty ammah is invalid.”[9] Yet you despair and are without comfort until you know whether the reason is because “the eye does not rest upon it,” or because “one is not sitting in the shade of the sekhakh (overhead boughs) but of the walls,” or because “the sukkah must be a temporary dwelling,” as written in the Gemara.[10] Even this will not satisfy the very punctilious (mehadrin min ha-mehadrin) until they have added problems and opinions (shitot)[11]: “If you should say,” “one may say,” etc.

Truly, I admit that this is good, but why is the knowledge of proofs an obligation in regard to practical commandments, while not [even] an option,[12] but an outright prohibition when it comes to commandments of the heart? What sin has been committed by these four commandments of the heart (that I mentioned) that you do not treat them in the same manner but are satisfied by a weak tradition of few words, wanting comprehension?[13]

Who was Joseph Ibn Kaspi? Born either in Arles, Provence or Argentière, Languedoc,[14] around the year 1280, he passed in 1345 on the island of Majorca. His was a peripatetic life. The first period of his life was spent in the south of France. Later he gravitated to Barcelona, where his married son David resided. At approximately age thirty-five he travelled to Egypt for several months,[15] hoping to acquire there the intellectual legacy of Maimonides from the Master’s fourth and fifth generation descendants but was sorely disappointed in this respect. He even entertained the thought of traveling to Fez, Morocco in search of wisdom,[16] but that particular journey never materialized.

Ibn Kaspi’s reputation is that of an ultra-rationalist. His naturalistic explanations of events in the Bible far exceed even those of Maimonides; for that reason his opinions were marginalized. Though there is an abundance of manuscripts, it was only in the nineteenth century that Ibn Kaspi’s works were published from manuscript. (A few still remain in manuscript.) To this day, his interpretations have yet to “mainstream.”

My juxtaposing the Maimonidean enthusiast Joseph ibn Kaspi to the anonymous author of the kabbalistic works known as Ra‘ya Mehemna and Tikkunei Zohar may strike the reader of this essai as bizarre. Besides their contemporaneity, what basis is there for this juxtaposition?

Geographically, there are certainly grounds for relating the two authors to one another. Though separated by the Pyrenees, there was much traffic, intellectual and otherwise between Provence and Northern Spain. Some of the greatest families of Provencal scholars originated in Spain: the Kimhis, Joseph and his son David, who excelled as grammarians and Bible exegetes; and the Tibbonides, Judah and his son Samuel, who were the premier translators of classic philosophic works from Judeo-Arabic to Hebrew. And the traffic was two-way. Prominent Provencal families wended their way to Sefarad. The halakhist Rabbi Zerahyah Halevi (“Ba‘al ha-Ma’or”), a native of Gerona, established his career in Narbonne, only to return to Gerona at the end of his days. (His great-grandson was the Talmudist Rabbi Aharon Halevi of Barcelona.)[17] Ibn Kaspi is an example of a Provencal scholar who relocated to Catalonia: Barcelona, and eventually, the Balearic isle of Majorca. Thus, there could easily have been a sharing of ideas between southern France and northern Spain.[18]

In terms of mindset, the border between rationalist philosophy and kabbalah was especially porous at this time. Whoever authored Ra‘ya Mehemna and Tikkunei Zohar, carried with him much Maimonidean baggage. Linguistically, it is apparent to any student of the Ra‘ya Mehemna and Tikkunim that they are rife with the philosophic jargon made popular by the Tibbonides’ translations from Judeo-Arabic.[19] And let us not forget that the very backbone of Ra‘ya Mehemna is an enumeration of the commandments à la Maimonides’ Sefer ha-Mitsvot. (Rabbi Reuven Margaliyot isolated these commandments and presented them in orderly fashion in the introduction to his edition of the Zohar.)

*

When we put it all together it makes perfect sense. As shocking as some of its bold statements may be, the literary oeuvre of Ra‘ya Mehemna and Tikkunei Zohar cannot be construed as issuing from the mind of an antinomian. An antinomian would not go to the bother of constructing a Book of Commandments after a fashion. Rather, I maintain that the downgrading of the study of Talmud in general, and Mishnah in particular, should be attributed to a radical adoption of Maimonides’ curriculum of studies, whereby his halakhic magnum opus Mishneh Torah has superseded the study of Mishnah and Gemara.

In this respect, Maimonides’ devotees in Provence and Spain ventured beyond the Master himself. Maimonides penned a convincing letter to Rabbi Pinhas, the Dayyan (Justice) of Alexandria,[20] that regardless of what he wrote in the introduction to Mishneh Torah, the traditional study of the Talmudic tractates (albeit as summarized in Alfasi’s Halakhot) continues unabated in his beit midrash.[21] The curriculum that Maimonides once proposed remained an abstraction. It seems that Egyptian Jewry was not overly receptive to this innovation. Only well over a century later, did this great intellectual experiment of Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, a “hivemind of halakhah,[22] designed to replace the “dialectics of Abayye and Rava,” find foot soldiers in the likes of Ibn Kaspi and the anonymous author of Ra‘ya Mehemna and Tikkunei Zohar. They launched their campaign from the soil of Provence and Spain.

Our thesis does not ride on the reputation of Joseph ibn Kaspi. Ibn Kaspi’s statement is perhaps the most outspoken and provocative call for adoption of Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah as a way of bypassing Talmudic studies, yet there are other testimonies (from the least expected quarter) that the exclusive study of Mishneh Torah was starting to gain traction in medieval Spain.

The great halakhist Rabbi Asher ben Yehiel (Rosh) emigrated from Germany to Spain at the turn of the fourteenth century and eventually emerged as the Rabbi of Toledo, Castile, where he left his stamp on the shape of Castilian Halakhah.[23] Evidently, Rabbi Asher had cause to fulminate against authorities who decided questions of practical Halakhah based solely on the rulings of Mishneh Torah without recourse to Talmud.

Rabbi Asher writes:

I heard from a great man in Barcelona who was eminently familiar with three orders [of the Talmud, i.e. Mo‘ed, Nashim and Nezikin]. He said: “I am amazed at people who have not studied Gemara and adjudicate based on their reading in the books of Maimonides, of blessed memory, believing that they understand them. I know myself, when it comes to the three orders that I studied, I am able to understand when I read Maimonides’ books. However, his books that are based on Kodashim and Zera‘im—I do not understand at all. And I know that it is that way for them regarding all his books![24]

*

Rabbi Yahya Kafah (1850-1931) was not wide of the mark when he asserted that those statements in Zoharic literature that undercut the Talmud (comprised of Mishnah and Gemara) were designed to enhance the prestige of the Kabbalah. (By the same token, one may safely say that Ibn Kaspi’s desire to streamline the study of Halakhah, stemmed from his valorization of Philosophy.)

Logically, our next question should be: What was Maimonides’ own stake in proposing that his compendium Mishneh Torah take the place of protracted Talmudic studies? Maimonides provides a simple answer to this question in his introduction to Mishneh Torah:

At this time, severe vicissitudes prevail, and all feel the pressure of hard times. The wisdom of our wise men has disappeared; the understanding of our prudent men is hidden. Hence, the commentaries of the Geonim and their compilations of laws and responses, which they took care to make clear, have in our times become hard to understand so that only a few individuals properly comprehend them. Needless to add that such is the case in regard to the Talmud itself—the Babylonian as well as the Palestinian—the Sifra, the Sifre and the Tosefta, all of which works require a broad mind, a wise soul and lengthy time, and then one can know from them the correct practice as to what is forbidden or permitted, and the other rules of the Torah.

On these grounds, I, Moses the son of Rabbi Maimon the Sefardi, bestirred myself…[25]

While perhaps not the ideal curriculum, the exigencies of the time demanded the production of a bold new work on the order of Mishneh Torah that would preserve the practice of Halakhah for the masses ill-equipped to make their way through the labyrinthine discussions of the Talmud or even the decisions of the Gaonica (originally intended to clarify the canons of Jewish Law).

But was there perhaps another purpose of Mishneh Torah that Maimonides kept to himself and was not willing to divulge in writing? In Hilkhot Talmud Torah (Laws of the Study of Torah), Maimonides would proceed to sketch the traditional trivium of Mikra (Bible), Mishnah and Talmud, [26]such that Pardes (the esoteric teachings of Judaism) comes under the rubric of “Talmud”[27]; and that furthermore, the mature scholar who has covered the requisite literature and is thus no longer bound by the daily trivium, “will devote all his days exclusively to Talmud, according to the breadth of his mind and the composure of his intellect.”[28]

Was the condensing of Talmud into Mishneh Torah Maimonides’ master plan to free time for the study of Pardes or esoterica? Should that prove true, then Ibn Kaspi’s interest,[29] and mutatis mutandis that of the Tikkunei Zohar and Ra‘ya Mehemna, was not so very different from that of HaRav HaMoreh.[30]

[1] This fact was recognized two and a half centuries ago by the discerning eye of Rabbi Jacob Emden. See Emden’s Mitpahat Sefarim, Altona 1768, Part 1, chap. 3 (6b); chaps. 6-7 (16b-17b); Lvov 1870, pp. 12, 37-39.

Whereas Zohar itself has come to be associated with the name of Rabbi Moses de Leon, no single name surfaces in regard to Tikkunei Zohar and Ra‘ya Mehemna (though there are some who would attribute the latter to a yet unidentified disciple of De Leon).

It should be mentioned in passing that even in regard to the authorship of the Zohar there has been a sea change in scholarly thinking. Unlike Scholem, who was convinced that the single author of the Zohar was Rabbi Moses de Leon, current thinking (spearheaded by Yehuda Liebes) rejects this notion of single authorship and assumes the Zohar to be a collaborative or composite work on the part of a mystic fraternity or haburah.

[2] See Zohar I, 27b. This is actually a segment of Tikkunei Zohar that the Italian printers in 1558 mistakenly embedded in Zohar. See Editor Daniel Matt’s note to the Pritzker edition of the Zohar, vol. 1 (Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 2004), p. 170, note 499. See also the Introduction to Tikkunei Zohar (Vilna, 1867), 15b and gloss of the Vilna Gaon, s.v. shalta shifhah.

And see the Tikkunim appended to Tikkunei Zohar (Margaliyot ed.), tikkun 9 (147a).

By the same token, there are passages where the Mishnah is related to Metatron, the “‘eved” (male servant). See e.g. Ra‘ya Mehemna in Zohar III, 29b; and The Hebrew Writings of the Author of Tiqqunei Zohar and Ra‘aya Mehemna (Hebrew), ed. Efraim Gottlieb (Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 2003), p. 1, line 3.

Moshe Idel has demonstrated that this motif whereby the Mishnah is juxtaposed to Metatron is to be found in the obscure work of Rabbi Abraham Esquira, Yesod ‘Olam (Ms. Moscow, Günzburg 607, 80a-b). See Idel’s introduction to The Hebrew Writings of the Author of Tiqqunei Zohar and Ra‘aya Mehemna, pp. 23-24, 27-28. Inter alia, Esquira’s text makes mention of “six hundred orders of Mishnah.” This is a reference to b. Hagigah 14a. See Rashi there s.v. shesh me’ot sidrei Mishnah. Thus, p. 23, n. 76 of Idel’s introduction is in need of correction. By the same token, Esquira’s “seven hundred orders of confusion” (“shesh me’ot sidrei bilbulim”) is a parody of the “seven hundred orders of Mishnah” in b. Hagigah 14a. See Idel, ibid. p. 28, n. 105.

Concerning the juxtaposition of the six-lettered Metatron, the servant, to the six days of the work week, see the Vilna Gaon’s gloss to Tikkunei Zohar (Vilna, 1867), tikkun 18 (33b), s.v. be-gin de-Metatron. There is precedent in a Teshuvat ha-Ge’onim (Gaonic responsum) for restricting the activity of the angelic realm to the six days of the week and reserving the seventh Sabbath day for Israel’s sphere of influence. See Tosafot, Sanhedrin 37b, s.v. mi-kenaf ha-’arets zemirot shama‘nu; and Rabbi Reuven Margaliyot, Margaliyot ha-Yam ad locum, and idem, Nitsutsei Zohar to Ra‘ya Mehemna in Zohar III, 93a, note 2.

Later, in sixteenth-century Safed, Rabbi Isaac Luria advised reserving the Sabbath day for the exclusive study of Kabbalah (“as was the custom of the early ones”), while relegating the study of Halakhah to the six work days. This is hinted to in the two verses “Hishtahavu la-Hashem be-hadrat kodesh” (whose initials form the word “Kabbalah”) and “Hari‘u la-Hashem kol ha-’arets (initials “Halakhah”). See Rabbi Hayyim Vital, Peri ‘Ets Hayyim (Dubrovna, 1804), Sha‘ar ha-Shabbat , chap. 21 (103c); Rabbi Jacob Zemah, Nagid u-Metsaveh (Lublin, 1881), 25b. And see Peri ‘Ets Hayyim, Sha‘ar Hanhagat ha-Limmud, s.v. kavvanat keri’at ha-Mishnah (85a): “Know that the Mishnah is Metatron in Yetsirah…”

In the Ra‘ya Mehemna in Zohar III, 279b, the Mishnah is referred to as the “shifhah…the female of the ‘eved, na‘ar (“lad”). “Na‘ar” or “lad” is yet another epithet for Metatron; see b. Yevamot 16b (based on Psalms 37:25) and Tosafot ad loc. s.v. pasuk zeh sar ha-‘olam amaro. Just as Metatron is referred to as “‘eved,” “for his name is like that of his Master” (b. Sanhedrin 38b). Both Metatron and Shadai have the numerical value of 318. (In Ra‘ya Mehemna in Zohar III, 82b it is spelled out that “Metatron is a good servant, a faithful servant to his Master.”)

In Ra‘ya Mehemna, in Zohar III, 276a, three of the most difficult tractates of the Mishnah are singled out for derision, ‘Eruvin, Niddah and Yevamot, as they are assigned the acronym ‘Ani (poor man).  The Vilna Gaon points out that the derogation of the rabbis, students of the Mishnah, is not absolute, but only relative to the “ba‘alei kabbalah” (“masters of the Kabbalah”). See Yahel ’Or, ed. Naftali Hertz Halevi (Vilna, 1882), Tetse, 276a, s.v. ve-i teima.

Earlier in that passage (Zohar 275b) we have the underhanded compliment, Hakham Mufle Ve-Rav Rabbanan” (“Outstanding Sage and Rabbi of Rabbis”), whose initials spell the word “hamor” (jackass). (This cynical remark found its way into the modern mystery novel by Richard Zimler, The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon [Woodstock, NY: The Overlook Press, 1998], p. 44.)

One who found absolutely outrageous the labeling of the Mishnah as a “shifhah” was the Chief Rabbi of Sana‘a, Yemen, Rabbi Yahya ben Shelomo (Sliman) Kafah (1850-1931). See his ‘Amal u-Re‘ut Ru’ah va-Haramot u-Teshuvatam (Tel-Aviv, 1914; limited facsimile edition Jerusalem 1976), p. 12. Available at hebrewbooks.org.

‘Amal u-Re‘ut Ru’ah va-Haramot u-Teshuvatam is Rabbi Kafah’s rejoinder to the bans placed upon him by the various batei din (courts) of Jerusalem—Ashkenazic, Hasidic and Sefardic. It struck Rabbi Kafah as highly ironic that he, a staunch defender of Talmudic Judaism, was placed under the ban, while the Zohar, with its numerous derisions of Talmud and its students, was upheld and, what is more, sanctified. Ibid. p. 14.

The constraints of space do not allow us to explore the controversy regarding the Zohar that erupted in Yemen in the early part of the twentieth century between Rabbi Kafah and his disciples, the self-styled Darda‘im, on the one hand, and their opponents, to whom they referred as ‘Ikeshim. (The first label is based on the Midrashic pun on Darda‘ [1Kings 5:11] as Dor De‘ah, “a generation of knowledge”; the second comes from Deuteronomy 32:5, “dor ‘ikesh u-petaltol,” “a perverse and twisted generation.”) At the instigation of his critics, Rabbi Kafah was jailed on more than one occasion by the Muslim authorities. (Rabbi Kafah alludes to this in ‘Amal u-Re‘ut Ru’ah va-Haramot u-Teshuvatam, p. 14.)

The man who acted as a peacemaker between the warring factions was none other than Rabbi Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook. While upholding Rabbi Kafah’s status as an unusual Torah scholar, Rabbi Kook conveyed to him that he had erred in taking literally passages that were intended to be understood metaphorically. See Igrot ha-Rayah, vol. 2, ed. RZYH Kook (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook 1961), no. 626 (pp. 247-248); Haskamot ha-Rayah, ed. Y.M. Yismah and B.Z Kahana (Jerusalem, 1988), no. 41 (pp. 46-47); Ma’amrei ha-Rayah, vol. 2, ed. Elisha Aviner (Langenauer) (Jerusalem, 1984), pp. 518-521. An incomplete variant of the letter in Haskamot ha-Rayah was published by Rabbi Moshe Zuriel, Otserot ha-Rayah, vol. 1 (Rishon LeZion, 2002), no. 76 (p. 447). See further Rabbi Zevi Yehudah Hakohen Kook, Li-Sheloshah be-Ellul I (Jerusalem, 1938; photo offset Jerusalem, 1978), par. 107 (p. 46).

For Rav Kook’s involvement with the Yemenite community and facilitating their ‘aliyah at the beginning of the twentieth century, see ibid. par. 42 (p. 21); and recently Ben Zion Rosenfeld, “Yahaso shel ha-Rayah Kook le-Hakhmei ha-Mizrah bi-Tekufat Yaffo 5664-5674 (1904-1914)” [“HaRav Avraham Isaac HaCohen Kook and his Attitude Regarding the Sephardi Sages During His Stay in Jaffa 5664–567 4(1904–1914)”], Libi ba-Mizrah (My Heart Is in the East) 1 (2019), pp. 287-290.

[3] See Rabbi Hayyim Vital, introduction to Sha‘ar ha-Hakdamot (printed as an introduction to the standard editions of ‘Ets Hayyim); Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, Iggeret ha-Kodesh (4th section of Tanya), chap. 26 (especially 143a). And see Rabbi Dov Baer Shneuri, Bi’urei ha-Zohar (Brooklyn, NY: Kehot, 2015), Bereshit (to Zohar I, 27b), 5a-8d.

[4] Heinrich Graetz, History of the Jews, cited in Gershom G. Scholem, “The Meaning of the Torah in Jewish Mysticism,” in idem, On the Kabbalah and Its Symbolism (New York: Schocken Books, 1970), p. 70, n. 1.

[5] b. Niddah 61b.

Contra Graetz, Scholem, referring to “the ambiguity of certain statements about the hierarchical order of the Bible, the Mishnah, the Talmud, and the Kabbalah, which are frequent in the Ra‘ya Mehemna and the Tikkunim, and which have baffled not a few readers of these texts,” states categorically: “It would be a mistake to term these passages antinomistic or anti-Talmudic” (op. cit. p. 70). Rather, to describe the peculiar posture of the Ra‘ya Mehemna and the Tikkunim, Scholem coins the term “utopian antinomianism” or “antinomian utopia” (op. cit., pp. 80, 82).

Other secular scholars who objected to Graetz’s judgment concerning the controversial passages in the Zohar (or to be more precise, Tikkunei Zohar) were Bernfeld and Zinberg. See Heinrich Graetz, Geschichte der Juden, 7, Beilage 12; Shim‘on Bernfeld, Da‘at Elohim, Part 1 (Warsaw, 1897), pp. 396-397, note 1; Israel Zinberg, A History of Jewish Literature, vol. 3, transl. Bernard Martin (Cleveland: The Press of Case Western Reserve University, 1973), pp. 55-56.

[6] Scholem and Idel would date Tikkunei Zohar and Ra‘ya Mehemna as early as the end of the thirteenth century (bringing the work in contact with Rabbi Moses de Leon). See Idel’s introduction to The Hebrew Writings of the Author of Tiqqunei Zohar and Ra‘aya Mehemna, pp. 10, 25-26, 29. Tishby established the years 1312-1313 as the terminus ad quem for the composition of Tikkunei Zohar based on its Messianic expectations for those years. Cited in Idel, ibid. p. 10, n. 7. See also p. 23. Idel, relying on Liebes, would make the terminus ad quem a year earlier, 1311. (Ibid.)

[7] See Zohar I, 27a:

They embittered their lives with hard labor (‘avodah kashah)—with kushya (difficulty);

with mortar (homer)—with kal ve-homer (a fortiori);

and with bricks (levenim)—with libun hilkheta (clarification of the law);

and with all [manner of] labor in the field—this is Beraita;

all their labor—this is Mishnah.

Though mistakenly embedded by the Italian printers back in 1558 in the text of the Zohar, this is actually a segment from the later work Tikkunei Zohar. See above note 2.

This same anachronistic interpretation of the verse in Exodus 1:14 is found (with slight variations) in the Ra‘ya Mehemna, again embedded in Zohar III, 153a, 229b (though in this case explicitly identified as Ra‘ya Mehemna). See also Tikkunei Zohar, tikkun 21 (Margaliyot ed. 44a); the additional Tikkunim appended to Tikkunei Zohar, tikkun 9 (147a); and the Tikkunim appended to Zohar Hadash (Margaliyot ed.), 97d (where the end of the verse is interpreted, “be-pharekh—da pirkha”), 98b, 99b.

And see now, The Hebrew Writings of the Author of Tiqqunei Zohar and Ra‘aya Mehemna (Hebrew), ed. Efraim Gottlieb and Moshe Idel (Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 2003), pp. 39-40.

This degradation of Talmudic hermeneutic was duly noted by Rabbi Kafah (see above note 2). Kafah believed that the not so hidden agenda of the anonymous writer was to promote the study of Kabbalah at the expense of the study of Talmud. See ‘Amal u-Re‘ut Ru’ah va-Haramot u-Teshuvatam, p. 12: “The entire purpose of the author of the Zohar is to cause the Mishnah and the Talmud to be forgotten from Israel, to stop up the mouth of the well of living waters from which flow the ways of the Oral Law, and have them occupy themselves with his new Torah.”

[8] The primary meaning of the Hebrew word shitah is a line; hence, a line of thought. For its derivative usage in medieval rabbinical literature, see Mordechai Breuer, ’Ohalei Torah (Jerusalem: Shazar Center, 2004), pp. 109, 510; Ya‘akov Spiegel, ‘Ammudim be-Toledot ha-Sefer ha-‘Ivri, vol. 2 (Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan, 2005), p. 442; and lately, Hayyim Eliezer Ashkenazi, “Heker ve-‘Iyun be-Sifrei Rishonim (4),” Yeshurun, vol. 40 (Nisan 5779), p. 930, n. 7.

In the London Beth Din Ms. 40 (designated in the microfilm collection of the National Library of Israel, F4708), f.30, this word reads “mishnayot,” rather than shitot, but the reading is unlikely, to say the least. Cf. below n. 11.

[9] Maimonides, MT, Hil. Sukkah 4:1.

[10] The three opinions are found in b. Sukkah 2a.

[11] In the London Beth Din ms. for “shitot” there occurs the grotesquerie “shtuyot” (foolishness).

[12] The London Beth Din ms. has the superior reading eino reshut o makom patur.”

[13] Joseph ben Abba Mari ibn Kaspi, Sefer ha-Mussar/Yoreh De‘ah, chap. 15.

Ibn Kaspi’s Sefer ha-Mussar was published in a couple of collections: Eliezer Ashkenazi of Tunis’ Ta‘am Zekenim (Frankfurt am Main, 1854); and Isaac Last’s ‘Asarah Klei Kesef (Pressburg, 1903). Our particular chapter (15) appeared earlier in the introduction to Ibn Kaspi’s ‘Ammudei Kesef u-Maskiyot Kesef, ed. Salomo Werbluner (Frankfurt am Main, 1848), p. xv. In Ta‘am Zekenim our quote appears on 53a; in ‘Asarah Klei Kesef on p. 70.

Sefer ha-Mussar was written for Ibn Kaspi’s twelve year old son Shelomo residing in Tarascon (Provence). According to the colophon, it was completed in 1332 in Valencia (Catalonia).

[14] Moshe Kahan is of the opinion that Joseph himself was born in Arles, and that it was his ancestors who hailed from Argentière (hence the Hebrew surname Kaspi). See M. Kahan, “Joseph ibn Kaspi—From Arles to Majorca,” Iberia Judaica VIII (2016), pp. 181-192.

[15] Kahan dates the journey between the years 1313-1315, and writes that Ibn Kaspi stayed in Egypt for about five months. Op. cit. p. 182.

In Mishneh Kesef I, ed. Isaac Last (Pressburg, 1905; photo offset Jerusalem, 1970), chap. 14 (pp. 18-19), Ibn Kaspi writes that about two years ago, at approximately age thirty-five, he went down to Egypt. The colophon of the book (p. 168) is datelined Arles, 1317, which would mean that the Egyptian expedition took place about the year 1315.

In Sefer ha-Mussar, which according to the colophon was completed in Valencia in 1332, we receive a slightly different picture. In the introduction, Ibn Kaspi writes that twenty years previous he wandered to Egypt; the total trip, from beginning to end, lasted five months. If we take him at his word, the trip to Egypt was in 1312. What is clear is that the actual sojourn in Egypt was less than five months.

[16] Introduction to Sefer ha-Mussar. In chap. 15, Ibn Kaspi spells out his fascination with Fez: “The Jews find repulsive and abandon today the Guide…the Christians respect and exalt it, and have translated it [to Latin]. All the more so the Ishmaelites; in Fez [italics mine—BN] and other lands, they established study-houses to learn the Guide from the mouth of Jewish scribes.”

[17] See Israel Ta-Shma, Rabbi Zerahyah Halevi (Ba‘al ha-Ma’or) u-B’nei Hugo (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1992), pp. 2, 16; Hayyim Eliezer Ashkenazi, “Heker ve-‘Iyun be-Sifrei Rishonim (4),” p. 933, n. 17.

[18] Though scholars assume a Castilian—rather than a Catalonian—provenance for Tikkunei Zohar and Ra‘ya Mehemna, I do not see that as a major obstacle. Surely, the main flow of traffic was between Provence in the south of France and Catalonia in the north of Spain, but for Jews, Sefarad was an overarching unity, no matter the local potentates into which it was fragmented. Thus, in 1305, the Rabbi of Barcelona, Catalonia, Rabbi Solomon ben Abraham ibn Adret (Rashba) was able to place a newly arrived German émigré, Rabbi Asher ben Yehiel (Rosh) in the rabbinate of Toledo, Castile. (See Avraham Hayyim Freimann, Ha-Rosh ve-Tse’etsa’av, trans. Menahem Eldar [Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1986], pp. 28-29.)

Sometimes, within a single family one finds both strands of Kabbalah, Castilian and Catalonian. Isaac ibn Sahula, native of Guadalajara, Castile, author of the bestiary Meshal ha-Kadmoni (1281), as well as a kabbalistic commentary to Song of Songs, was a disciple of Rabbi Moses of Burgos, as well as an assumed associate of Rabbi Moses de Leon. (The first reference to the Midrash ha-Ne‘elam, an early stratum of the Zoharic literature, is found in Ibn Sahula’s Meshal ha-Kadmoni.) His brother, Meir ibn Sahula, on the other hand, prided himself on his Catalonian and Provencal pedigree, being a disciple of “Rabbi Joshua ibn Shu‘aib and of Rabbi Solomon ben Abraham ibn Adret (Rashba), who received from Nahmanides, who in turn received from Rabbi Isaac the Blind, son of Rabad of Posquières, who in turn received from Elijah the Prophet.” So writes Meir ibn Sahula at the conclusion to his commentary on the Bahir, “’Or ha-Ganuz.”

(Yehuda Liebes speculated that the especially acerb remarks that precede this peroration are directed against recent developments in Castilian Kabbalah, namely the Zohar. See Y. Liebes, Studies in the Zohar [Albany: State University of New York Press, 1993], pp. 168-169, n. 50. However, in all fairness, the description of those “who expound books and books of the nations, and transcribe therein their gods, and call them ‘Secrets of the Torah’ [Sitrei Torah],” sounds more like an attack on Maimonides and his followers who construe Aristotelian philosophy as Sitrei Torah, than an assault upon the Zohar. At the end of his lengthy footnote, Liebes conceded this distinct possibility.)

Thus, the division of Spanish Kabbalah into discrete units of Castilian versus Catalonian traditions need not prejudice us against the possibility of penetrations and influences that defy this dyadic model. One needs to complexify the general picture of Spanish Kabbalah in order to appreciate the multiplicity of forces at work. Binaries are helpful as historic guidelines but they can never do justice to the complexity of lived reality.

[19] Tishby collected some of these Tibbonide neologisms, starting with “nefesh ha-sikhlit” or “intellectual soul” (Ra‘ya Mehemna in Zohar III, 29b). See Isaiah Tishby, Mishnat ha-Zohar, vol. 1, 2nd printing with corrections (Jerusalem: Mossad Bialik, 1949), pp. 77-78.

One can well appreciate how the Chief Rabbi of Sana‘a, Yemen, Yahya ben Shelomo Kafah, a most outspoken opponent of the Zohar, typified its author as “the philosopher, author of the Zohar” (“ha-philosoph mehabber ha-Zohar”). See his ‘Amal u-Re‘ut Ru’ah va-Haramot u-Teshuvatam, pp. 12-16.

Besides the obvious use of Maimonidean terminology, there is the subtle copying of categories. An example would be the way in which the author of Tikkunei Zohar patterned his “hamesh minim” (“five species” or “five sects”) of the ‘Erev Rav (Mixed Multitude) after Maimonides’ “hamishah minim” (“five sectarians”). The passage from Tikkunei Zohar was incorporated by the printers in Zohar I, 25a. (The note in Derekh Emet alerts the reader that the material correlates to Tikkunei Zohar, tikkun 50. In the new Pritzker edition of the Zohar, the passage from Tikkunei Zohar has been removed.) Maimonides’ “hamishah minim” are found in MT, Hil. Teshuvah 3:7. This is just a random sample of the pervasive influence of Maimonides on the author of Tikkunei Zohar and Ra‘ya Mehemna.

Cf. the direct quote from Maimonides, Hil. Teshuvah 3:6 in Isaac ibn Sahula’s Meshal ha-Kadmoni (Venice, 1546), Sha‘ar ha-Rishon (10a), s.v. va-yo’el ha-tsevi le-va’er. And see now Sarah Offenberg, “On Heresy and Polemics in Two Proverbs in Meshal Haqadmoni” (Hebrew), Jewish Thought 1 (2019), pp. 64-65. Recently, Hartley Lachter has attempted to demonstrate that the general tenor of Meshal ha-Kadmoni is esoteric; see H. Lachter, “Spreading Secrets: Kabbalah and Esotericism in Isaac ibn Sahula’s Meshal ha-Kadmoni,” Jewish Quarterly Review, Vol. 100, No. 1 (Winter 2010), pp. 111-138.

[20] It should be noted, for whatever it is worth, that Pinhas ben Meshullam was a Provencal rabbi who took up the post of Dayyan of Alexandria, Egypt. It would be pure conjecture on my part to posit that his critique of Maimonides reflected the way in which Mishneh Torah had been received in Provence. It is equally possible that Pinhas’ critique was not based on actual observation of the Provencal reception of Mishneh Torah.

[21] See Igrot ha-Rambam, ed. Yitzhak Shilat, vol. 2 (Jerusalem, 1988), pp. 438-439; quoted in Bezalel Naor, The Limit of Intellectual Freedom: The Letters of Rav Kook (Spring Valley, NY: Orot, 2011), pp. 297-298.

[22] The term “hivemind” referred originally to the coordinated behavior of a colony of insects (bees or ants) which to an outside observer, appears the workings of a single mind. In the age of the Internet, it refers to the collectivity of the users who function as a single mind in expressing their thoughts and opinions. This is, in effect, what Maimonides created in Mishneh Torah. As he stated it so eloquently in the introduction to that work:

I…intently studied all these works, with the view of putting together the results obtained from them in regard to what is forbidden or permitted, clean or unclean, and the other rules of the Torah—all in plain language and terse style, so that thus the entire Oral Law might become systematically known to all, without citing difficulties and solutions or differences of view, one person saying so, and another something else [italics mine—BN]—but consisting of statements, clear and convincing, and in accordance with the conclusions drawn from all these compilations and commentaries that have appeared from the time of Rabbenu ha-Kadosh [i.e. Rabbi Judah the Prince] to the present, so that all the rules shall be accessible to young and old, whether these appertain to the (Pentateuchal) precepts or to the institutions established by the sages and prophets, so that no other work should be needed for ascertaining any of the laws of Israel, but that this work might serve as a compendium of the entire Oral Law…

(Moses Hyamson translation with correction)

[23] See A.H. Freimann, Ha-Rosh ve-Tse’etsa’av, chap. 4 (pp. 32-41).

[24] She’elot u-Teshuvot ha-Rosh 31:9; quoted in Bezalel Naor, The Limit of Intellectual Freedom, pp. 300-301.

[25] Translation of Moses Hyamson with slight alterations.

[26] b. Kiddushin 30a. See Tosafot there s.v. lo tserikha le-yomei.

[27] MT, Hil. Talmud Torah 1:11.

[28] Ibid. 1:12.

[29] In Sefer ha-Mussar, chap. 10, Ibn Kaspi lays out a study plan for his twelve year old son, Shelomo. He advises Shelomo to spend the next two years studying Bible and Talmud. From fourteen to sixteen, he should turn his attention to ethics: Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Avot with the commentary and introduction of Maimonides, Hilkhot De‘ot of Sefer ha-Madda‘, as well as Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. Starting at age sixteen, for the next two years, he should tackle the Halakhic codes of Alfasi, Rabbi Moses of Coucy [i.e. Sefer Mitsvot Gadol or SeMaG] and Maimonides, and pursue the study of logic. At age eighteen, he would be well advised to study natural science for two years. Finally, at age twenty, Shelomo should commence studying Aristotle’s Metaphysics and Maimonides’ Guide. (He is also advised to take a wife at that time.)

[30] See Maimonides’ famous parable of the King’s palace in Guide of the Perplexed III, 51.