Some Assorted Comments and a Selection from my Memoir, part 2

Some Assorted Comments and a Selection from my Memoir, part 2
by Marc B. Shapiro
1. In a recent Jewish Action (Summer 2009), p. 21, Elli Fischer writes:
Brandeis University has been enclosed by an eruv for thirty years, longer than any other campus not adjacent to an established Jewish community. Since Brandeis is a Jewish institution, the eruv is funded by the university (as opposed to the students). . . . Rabbi David Fine, who graduated from Brandeis in the mid-1980’s, recalls checking the eruv as a student. . . . The first two JLIC rabbis to serve at Brandeis, Todd Berman and Aharon Frazer, each implemented minor upgrades to the eruv.

 

This gives me the opportunity to correct some errors and tell part of the story of the Brandeis Orthodox community. The eruv was first established in the 1982-1983 school year, when R. Meir Sendor was the Orthodox advisor. (Sendor is currently the rabbi of Young Israel of Sharon and is unusual in that he is both an academic scholar of Kabbalah, with a PhD from Harvard,[1] and also involved in Kabbalah from the spiritual side.) Rabbi Sendor informs me that Rabbi Yehudah Kelemer was the initial halakhic advisor, and Rabbi Shimon Eider was later brought in to be the official rav ha-machshir. (R. Eider later helped in putting up the eruv in Sharon, which was the first eruv in New England.)
When I arrived in Brandeis in the fall of 1985 we did not carry on Shabbat. (Contrary to the Jewish Action article, David Fine didn’t arrive at Brandeis until two years later.) I assume that due to some structural changes on campus, the eruv was no longer functional. During that academic year, Rabbi Eider returned, did what needed to be done, and the eruv was once again kosher. At this time, R. Yaakov Lazaros, a Chabad rabbi in Framingham (with semichah from R. Moshe Feinstein), was the Orthodox advisor.
The university paid (and I assume still pays) for the eruv’s upkeep, but this has nothing to do with Brandeis supposedly being a Jewish institution. In fact, it is not a Jewish institution. Brandeis paid because it saw this as an important service to the Orthodox community. The university has expanded since the 1980’s so that is probably why changes to the eruv had to be made. I don’t like the word “upgrade” that Fischer used, because “upgrade” means to improve the quality of something, and I don’t think that Rabbi Eider’s eruv needed to be improved.
When one speaks of Orthodox life at Brandeis, a lot of credit must go to Rabbi Albert Axelrad, who was the Reform Hillel rabbi at Brandeis. He is someone who over time I came to admire greatly, even though our religious outlooks were so very different. What Weinberg jokingly said about another Reform rabbi applies equally to Axelrad: He is a “hillul ha-shem,” (hillul ha-shem in quotation marks!) because he shows that “one can be an upstanding and noble man, full of the spirit of love for Israel, its Torah, and its language,” even if one is not a halakhic Jew.[2]
In ways that people don’t realize, Axelrad greatly assisted Orthodox growth on campus, and today Brandeis has a very large Orthodox contingent.[3] It was Axelrad who made sure that there would be an Orthodox advisor on campus, paid for from the Hillel budget. Yet despite his leaning over backwards to help the Orthodox, there were always those in the Orthodox community who had negative feelings towards him, not only ideologically, but also personally. These were people who came from yeshivot and had never had any contact with a Reform rabbi, and here was one who performed intermarriages. Axelrad had also been involved in some leftist causes and has the dubious distinction of having been officially put into herem, ceremony and all, by Rabbi Marvin Antelman. He shared this honor with the entire membership of the New Jewish Agenda, whom Antelman also placed under herem. (I mentioned Antelman in a previous installment and hope to return to him as his books are deserving of their own post.)
Rabbi Lazaros was only at Brandeis for one year and he was followed by Rabbi Marc Gopin. Those who saw the video on the Rav will probably remember Gopin as he has a few appearances in it. At the time he was working on his dissertation, which focuses on Samuel David Luzzatto.[4] He has also published a nice article on Elijah Benamozegh.[5] Since then he has made an international reputation for himself in the area of conflict resolution, travelling widely and publishing a number of books.[6]
Gopin was followed by another rabbi, a RIETS graduate, who would have been very good for the community in another ten years. But at this time he was too much to the right for them. The community had always been a somewhat liberal place. I recall the outrage among many when R. Moshe Dovid Tendler came to campus and expressed his feelings about homosexuality. There was the same outrage when the new campus rabbi said similar things. (Shmuley Boteach or R. Chaim Rapoport would have been more in line with the students’ feelings.) The following should give a further sense of the liberal nature of the community: The practice on Shabbat morning when taking the Torah out of the ark was for the hazan to carry it through the women’s section. This struck everyone as a very nice thing to do, and although it is not done at the typical synagogue, college is a very different place. Another example of how college differs from the “real world” is that during Shabbat morning services women routinely give divrei Torah, yet this is not something that most “regular” shuls are willing to allow.
When Rabbi Lazaros was the Orthodox advisor he ruled that the practice of carrying the Torah on the women’s side was forbidden. From the way he explained his decision I understood that the major issue wasn’t carrying the Torah on the woman’s side per se, but rather women kissing the Torah. As he was the rav, we had to listen to him, even on the Shabbatot that he was not there. However, in an act of rebellion the community made a decision that when the Torah was taken out of the ark the hazan, who now could not walk around the women’s side, would also not walk around the men’s side. He would bring the Torah right to the bimah. When the Torah was returned to the ark the hazan walked to the front of the synagogue and sang Mizmor le-David, once again without walking around the men’s side. The following year, with the arrival of a new Orthodox advisor, the community revived the old practice of carrying the Torah on the women’s side.
When I was the Orthodox advisor in the early 1990’s the Orthodox culture on campus had changed, and the situation with carrying the Torah was exactly reversed from what it had been in the 1980’s. In the 1990’s it was the students, or rather some students, who wanted to stop carrying the Torah on the women’s side. They didn’t think that an Orthodox shul could have such a practice. My position was that the minhag had to remain the way it was. At that time there was a very dynamic Ramah-type minyan and if the Orthodox were seen as too close-minded we would lose people to the Conservative minyan. In fact, it was precisely because of the liberal nature of our minyan that many non-Orthodox were attracted to it, and a number of students adopted an observant lifestyle while at Brandeis. While some students, coming to Brandeis after a year in Israel, wanted the minyan to be just like their shul in Teaneck and the Five Towns, the truth was that the minyan, to be successful, had to be run like an out of town shul.
This was not the only time I felt that for the sake of the wider appeal of the Orthodox community I had to make decisions that got some people upset. On Friday night there was a communal meal for all the different denominations. Often a woman would say kiddush. After that everyone could, of course, make their own kiddush. But there were some people who wanted to make a big deal about the women saying kiddush, and were also saying that men are not yotze with this, no matter which woman is reciting the kiddush. At the same time that this was happening, there were also those in the non-Orthodox groups who wanted to start having women lead the communal birkat ha-mazon. Until then, out of deference to the Orthodox, only a man led it.
We have a talmudic principle that if you try to grab too much you will end up with nothing, so I had to make a choice. The real halakhic issue here was birkat ha-mazon, as a woman cannot be motzi a man.[7] Therefore, I told the students that it was OK for the women to make kiddush but not birkat ha-mazon, and anyone who wanted to should make his own kiddush. This compromise was accepted. A year prior to this, before I was working at Brandeis, I had been wondering about this issue and asked R. Yehudah Herzl Henkin if it was permitted for a woman to say kiddush for a man. He replied in the affirmative. Shortly after receiving his answer, the same issue became pressing at Harvard Hillel. I told the Orthodox rabbi at Harvard, Harry Sinoff, what the practice at Brandeis was and that he might want to consult with R. Henkin. This is the responsum R. Henkin wrote, published here for the first time. (See also Bnei Vanim, vol. 2, pp. 40-41.)

I myself wrote a short Hebrew “mini-responsum” dealing with women, kiddush, and birkat ha-mazon. It was taped to the wall of the campus beit midrash, but with the move to the right, I am sure that not too long after my departure the responsum came down.
I just mentioned the Brandeis beit midrash, which it itself significant. Other than Brandeis, I don’t know if there is another secular university in the world that has a beit midrash in a university building. When the beit midrash was established in the early 1990’s it was a great achievement. It was an entirely student led project, but again, Rabbi Axelrad’s involvement, behind the scenes, was crucial. He spoke at the beit midrash dedication, as did the Boston Rosh Kollel.
There were also some minor conflicts related to the beit midrash. Although it was the Orthodox students who arranged for it, it was obviously something that all students could be part of. The question came up of what type of books should be stocked there. My feeling was that since the library had all the scholarly and academic books, there was no reason for these sorts of texts to be in the beit midrash.
Another issue arose with the Boston kollel. They had recently become involved with Brandeis students as part of their outreach. One of the kollel guys, who was having a great influence on the students, wanted to start a gemara shiur on campus. This was fabulous. He wanted to give the shiur in the beit midrash, which was the natural place. However, he said that he could only do it if no women were allowed into the beit midrash during this time (even if they were not participating in the shiur). One of the women students complained to me, and I agreed that this was improper. The beit midrash was established for all students and must be open 24 hours a day for everyone. We could not have a situation where, like a pool, the beit midrash is closed to women for certain hours. It also went against the ethos of the community to declare that women are barred from attending certain classes. I told the male students who were organizing the shiur that it would have to take place somewhere else, and that is what happened.
Right when we were having the discussions one of the students drove to Brookline to attend Prof. Isadore (R. Yitzhak) Twersky’s gemara shiur, and he came back reporting that there was a woman in attendance. If the Talner Rebbe welcomed women to his shiur, were the Brandeis students supposed to be more “frum”? For those who have never seen a picture of my late teacher, who was also the son-in-law of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, here he is:

 

There was another time when the Boston Rosh Kollel gave a decision to some of the students that I felt could drive away the less religious if it was adopted by the community as a whole. Since there were students who thought that the Rosh Kollel should be regarded as the halakhic authority for the community, I was in a difficult situation. This was especially so as I myself had asked him questions in the past, so it would not be an easy thing to reject his ruling in this case. I consulted a well-known haredi posek with whom I had discussed other matters, including an issue of possible mamzerut that came up on campus. He agreed with my position but said that he could not put his decision in writing.
I know that some people will find this objectionable, but it never bothered me. Why should I care if he put it in writing? He knew that if he did he might be attacked. Given the choice between no pesak (if it has to be in writing) or an oral pesak, obviously the latter is preferable. Although at the time I told people who gave the pesak (and anyone who wanted to could call him up to confirm it), revealing it on this blog would, I think, fall into the category of “putting it in writing.” This posek is still functioning, and if he was afraid of being attacked fifteen years ago, all the more so today. (There are reasons why I am being vague about the particulars of the pesak.)
Returning to the Brandeis beit midrash, Prof. Marvin Fox also spoke at its dedication. This was significant as it was the first time, in my memory, that the students took advantage of this great scholar and talmid hakham.[8] There was such a disconnect at Brandeis between the academic life and the religious life that regarding the latter we all overlooked the people in our midst, those who were teaching us in the classroom. I too regret not speaking to Fox in greater detail. For example, having lived in Columbus, Ohio he knew R. Leopold Greenwald very well, and yet other than hearing one or two stories about him from Fox, I never took the time to find out more. Fox also knew Chaim Bloch, the great rabbinic forger. (Greenwald and Bloch were themselves good friends.) He told me once that there was a lot he could say about Bloch, and yet I was foolish and never took advantage of this.
After Fox’s death I discovered a letter from him to Bloch in which he explains how it happened that Greenwald’s great library ended up at the Hebrew Union College. He also tells us the tragic fate of Greenwald’s huge collection of letters, letters that he received from gedolim and scholars over the course of many decades. This must have been one of the largest and most interesting collections in the world, full of priceless material which should have been given to a library so a Greenwald archive could be established. Among these papers were also to be found manuscripts from Greenwald’s own pen that had not yet been published. It was perhaps with this in mind that Fox told me very firmly, at the Brandeis beit midrash dedication, not to let the letters of Weinberg out of my hands. He was convinced that some people would want to destroy them, or at the very least make sure they were not made public.
Here is Fox’s letter to Bloch, courtesy of the Leo Baeck Institute, New York[9]:

Returning to the RIETS graduate who was the Orthodox advisor following Gopin, there were a few issues that created problems. Yet the straw that broke the camel’s back was that, in accordance with R. Moshe Feinstein’s pesak, he would not give an aliyah to Rabbi Axelrad. Axelrad’s practice was to come to the Orthodox minyan once a year. Not giving him an aliyah was something that simply wouldn’t fly at Brandeis. It was not a question of Axelrad being concerned about his kavod. I am certain that he did not take personal offense. But he was very concerned about what appeared to be a growing split in the community, a community that had always gotten along so well. To publicly refuse to give the Hillel rabbi an aliyah would give the Orthodox community a sectarian flavor very much removed from both the Hillel ethos, as well from the majority of Orthodox students as well. It was not surprising, therefore, that this rabbi was let go in the middle of the year. After he was let go he tried to create a separate Orthodox community independent of Hillel. It was to be a real Austrittsgemeinde, and he told us that money would be forthcoming from New York to help us form the new community. Yet none of the students were interested.
R. Yehudah Herzl Henkin’s responsum, Bnei Vanim, vol. 2, no. 9, on whether one can give a Reform rabbi an aliyah, is dealing with the Brandeis situation (and was sent to me). Rabbi Henkin’s responsa have an unfortunate characteristic in that they don’t mention to whom he is writing, or give other identifying details. Without this blog post, future historians would have had no way of knowing which of the many American campuses he was referring to. Think of how much we learn about the history of Orthodoxy in America from R. Moshe Feinstein’s responsa. We see him answering questions to Canton, Berkeley and all sorts of other places. Knowing to where he is writing is vital for getting a sense not only of Orthodoxy of the time, but of the responsum itself, since his ruling for an out-of-the way place cannot always be applied when dealing with a center of Jewish life. More leniencies are obviously found in the former. With regard to Bnei Vanim, since R. Henkin doesn’t tell us to whom he is writing, when he is offering comments on another’s work we have no way of identifying this text if we want to get a better sense of the opposing position. (Other poskim have also published responsa that deal with Brandeis, and I will discuss them in a future post.)
I think readers might also find the following story interesting, from my tenure as Orthodox advisor at Brandeis. Every Friday night all the different groups on campus would get together for an oneg, at which there would be a speaker. Out of respect for the Orthodox a microphone was never used, which wasn’t really an issue since the onegs were not that big. However, it so happened that Hillel had an opportunity to bring in Dr. Ruth Westheimer[10] to speak on Friday night. She wasn’t going to speak about any sexual matters, but about her early years in Germany and her family that was killed.
This was at the height of Dr. Ruth’s fame, and there was going to be a huge crowd to come hear her. Hillel had decided to break with tradition and use a microphone at the event, which was to be held in a hall much larger than was usually used. I was told that Dr. Ruth actually insisted on the microphone, and the Hillel leadership didn’t feel like they could refuse. Before continuing with the story, let me go back a few years and tell how I, and my classmates, first heard of Dr. Ruth, because I think it says something about how yeshiva administrators are sometimes very foolish. I still remember how one day on the bus all the talk was about how the administration of Bruriah High School – the girl’s school of the Jewish Educational Center in Elizabeth, where I was a student – had sent out a letter to all parents telling them about a very dangerous radio show called “Sexually Speaking” that was on very late on Sunday night. The parents were told to make sure that their daughters didn’t listen to it—as if a parent can control what a teenager does with her radio in the privacy of her room. It was an era before computers, when we all listened to radio. (I am sure many readers remember the days when 770 WABC played music.)
Now anyone should realize that the perfect way to bring teenagers to do something is to tell them that they can’t do it. Although perhaps none of the Bruriah students had ever even heard of the show, upon receipt of this letter they all were determined to find out what the administration wanted to keep them away from. Not only that, but on the bus, the day after the letter was received, they told all the boys about this strange letter. None of us had ever heard of Dr. Ruth, and our school never sent out a warning letter to parents. Yet you can be sure that after hearing the news we too were curious. It happens that some students found Dr. Ruth so funny and interesting that they listened to her while they were on the phone together. The whole novelty was about an older Jewish woman, with a strong accent, speaking so openly about the things people don’t usually speak about.
Returning to the story, I was now put in a difficult situation, since the Orthodox community could not support an event that involved Sabbath violation. I told this to the Hillel administration and I told the students that I would not be going and it was not something that the Orthodox community could be part of. I remained in the dining room with those students who chose to stay, and those who wanted to hear Dr. Ruth went upstairs, where the event was taking place. Imagine my surprise when someone sits down next to me, and lo and behold, it is Dr. Ruth. She had obviously been told that there was some controversy about her speaking on the microphone, and she wanted to come speak to me. She was extremely apologetic, and said that unfortunately she needs the microphone, otherwise no one would be able to hear her. She also told me that she was sorry that this created problems for the Orthodox community. Dr. Ruth stayed with us for about ten minutes or so, and even bentched together with us (though though she hadn’t eaten anything!). She told me that she remembered singing the standard tune to the first paragraph of birkat hamazon when she was a child in Germany. I don’t know if she had sung it since.
One other event is worth recalling, and this took place when I was an undergraduate. It involved a dispute between me and my friend David Bernstein, and I would be curious to hear what readers have to say.[11] We decided to create an organization so we could invite in speakers. In order to get money from the university, we had to be officially chartered, so in our senior year we created the Brandeis chapter of Young Americans for Freedom. It had exactly two members (we had no interest in having any others join), and lasted for only one year (i.e., until we graduated). I was a little surprised when the Brandeis student senate agreed to charter us and give us money, but hey, you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. (Had Matthew Brooks not already graduated, we probably would have let him join our little club. Brooks is now the executive director of the Republican Jewish Coalition. See here)
One of our events was sponsoring a debate between my father, Edward S. Shapiro, and Stephen S. Whitfield on what political ideology was more in line with Jewish interests. This had a very large turn-out and the problem was that Whitfield, although a Democrat, is more of a Truman or Kennedy Democrat. Every time my father cited some nonsensical statement by a Democratic figure, Whitlfield agreed that it was nonsense, so they ended up agreeing about as much as they disagreed. A debate isn’t much fun unless one of the speakers is prepared to defend what others regard as indefensible (e.g., anyone looking to defend ACORN?).
For those who don’t know, Whitfield is one of the leading experts on American Jewish culture, having written an enormous amount on the topic. My father started off as a general historian, but has also written a great deal on American Jewish history. I can’t help thinking that the reason the New York Times never reviewed his book on the Crown Heights Riots[12] – which was a National Jewish Book Award Finalist – was that they didn’t want to revisit the issue. It was, after all, the great embarrassment of the Dinkins administration, and the symbol of Democratic failure in New York City, ushering in the Giuliani era. Yet it was, precisely for these reasons, one of the most important events in recent New York City history, and one would think that the New York Times would have thought it worthwhile to review such a book. But no, they let it pass without comment.
We also brought in Dinesh D’Souza to speak. This was before he had published any of his books. In fact, I had never even heard of him when Bernstein suggested we bring him. His talk, though sparsely attended, was quite good. My dispute with Bernstein happened regarding our next speaker. I wanted to bring Lew Lehrman to speak. He was a prominent conservative who almost became governor of New York. He also had some honorary role in Young Americans for Freedom. Bernstein strongly disagreed. He argued that since Lehrman had converted to Catholicism a few years prior, he was not the sort of person we should be asking to speak. Although Bernstein was not Orthodox, that was a big issue for him and I agreed to drop the idea. But from my perspective, the fact that Lehrman had left the fold had no relevance for me in terms of having him speak. I wasn’t giving him an honor or asking him to speak on his theology. I wanted to hear him talk about economic matters and the situation in Nicaragua, and didn’t think that his personal life was of any relevance.
Although the cases are obviously not identical, there was a time when many people would have reacted the same way to inviting an intermarried speaker, and my response would have been the same. Since there is such a high intermarriage rate, one day most of us will have someone running for Congress in our district who is intermarried (some already have such representatives), just like most of us already know people, or have family members, who are intermarried. I don’t think this should have any relevance on my vote. In fact, I don’t think it should have any relevance on anything. Two generations ago, anyone who intermarried realized that he was doing something very much at odds with Jewish life and upbringing. Today, hardly anyone who grows up in the non-Orthodox world thinks that it is an issue at all, and it is only a matter of time before the Conservative movement accepts intermarriage. They have no choice, as their congregations are full of people whose children intermarry, and they can’t go on forever taking a hard line on this issue. Not only do they lose the intermarried children, they often lose the parents when the rabbi tells his long-time congregants that he is sorry but he can’t perform the wedding of their children or even announce it in the synagogue newsletter. I predict that within ten years we will see Conservative rabbis doing intermarriages.
The massive intermarriage rate has also impacted the Orthodox world. A number of years ago R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg stated that he thought that it might be a good idea for a father whose son was going to intermarry to attend the wedding, thus not completely cutting off all ties.[13] Weinberg had known the problems of intermarriage very well, as the son of his good friend R. Shlomo Aronson, Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv, had married a non-Jewish Russian woman. He also knew Jacob Klatzkin, the brilliant philosopher and Zionist thinker, who was the son of the even more brilliant R. Elijah Klatzkin. How many people know that Jacob Klatzkin intermarried?
According to Gotthard Deutsch, R. Esriel Hildesheimer’s son Levi intermarried.[14] It is hard to imagine that Deutsch, who was Levi’s contemporary, was mistaken with the facts, especially since he was never corrected in succeeding issues of the newspaper in which he published this information. Yet Dr. Meir Hildesheimer has told me that Levi Hildesheimer married the daughter of Abraham Brodsky of Odessa, the well known philanthropist. Levi’s son, Arnold Hildesheimer, was an active Zionist who made his living as a chemist and eventually moved to the Land of Israel. Arnold’s mother was definitely Jewish. Therefore, I don’t know if Deutsch erred or if Levi married twice.. Arnold Hildesheimer’s son was Wolfgang Hildesheimer, an important figure in pre-World War II German literature.
Unfortunately, we have a number of examples of not merely intermarriage of children of great rabbis, but even conversion. The story of the son of R. Shneur Zalman of Lyady is well known, and I don’t need to repeat it here. Let me just mention, however, that the man was clearly mentally unbalanced. Michael Bernays, a son of Hakham Isaac Bernays, is probably the most famous apostate from a rabbinic family in modern times, converting seven years after his father’s death. Another son of Hakham Bernays, Jacob, actually sat shiva when this occurred.[15] If we want to look at descendants of great rabbis who converted, then the family tree of R. Akiva Eger has plenty of non-Jews. In fact, a predecessor to R. Akiva Eger as rav of Posen, the Beit Shmuel Aharon, R. Samuel ben Moses Falkenfeld,[16] had a most significant great-grandson, yet he was not Jewish. I refer to none other than Leon von Bilinski.[17] He was Austrian minister of finance and also military governor of Bosnia when Archduke Ferdinand was assassinated.
I assume the famous Posen family got its name from the city of Posen. R. Gershon Posen, the dayan of Frankfurt’s separatist community, had a grandson who was on the verge of converting to Christianity. Nahum Glatzer describes this young man’s disillusionment with Orthodoxy, and how he tried to talk him out of conversion.[18] (The conversion never took place, and another grandson, R. Raphael Posen, tells me that the more than seventy grandchildren of R. Gershon all remained Orthodox.)
How are Orthodox Jews supposed to relate to those who intermarry, and who typically don’t know any better? Many of us have even been invited to intermarriages. R Yuval Sherlow has stated that while it is not permitted to attend an intermarriage wedding ceremony, there are times (especially when family is involved) that it would be permitted to attend the party.[19] R. Ovadiah Yosef has ruled that it is permitted to give an intermarried man an aliyah,[20] and this opinion is also shared by R. Baruch Avraham Toledano and R. Pinchas Toledano (former Sephardic Av Beit Din of London).[21] I am also told that this is the practice at the Lakewood kiruv minyanim all over the country. This is so despite the fact that the most that R. Moshe Feinstein would permit in such a case is to allow the intermarried man to open and close the Ark.[22] It is actually Aish Hatorah that has done more to “normalize” intermarriage than any other organization in the Orthodox world. Not only does Aish Hatorah do outreach to the intermarried (something we can all appreciate), but they use various intermarried Jewish celebrities in their publicity, and have even honored these people at their events. I am not saying that they are wrong in what they do. After all, the old approach to intermarriage doesn’t work today, and although I find something distasteful about using an intermarried celebrity as the poster-boy to invite people to a Torah class, I see how people can disagree. But about one thing there can be no doubt, and that is that R. Aaron Kotler would be turning over in his grave if he saw what this supposedly haredi organization has done when it comes to tacit acceptance of intermarriage.

Yet we shouldn’t assume that it is only in modern times that intermarried people have been honored by Orthodox Jews. While it would have been unimaginable in previous years to put them on a pedestal the way Aish Hatorah does, there were times that the intermarried man did such great service for the Jewish community that it was only proper to express feelings of gratitude. Adolphe Cremieux is one such example. Although being intermarried, he helped the Jewish community in many ways. One can even say that he is a model for our time, in showing that one can love the Jewish people and sacrifice for them, even after having intermarried. Here is a song written in honor of Cremieux by the noted R. Aaron Fuld of Frankfurt, author of Beit Aharon. It is taken from Judaica Jerusalem auction cataloge of Summer 1997, p. 6.

 

Worse than intermarriage is apostasy, but the same issue came up there also. The apostate Daniel Chwolson staunchly defended his former religion and people. How were the Jews to relate to him? Let me quote Louis Jacobs, The Jewish Religion (Oxford, 1995) pp. 99-100:
When Chwolson celebrated his seventieth birthday, a number of Russian rabbis, in gratitude for his efforts on behalf of the Jewish community, sent him a telegram to wish him many happy returns. Rabbi Hayyim Soloveitchik was more typical of the standard Jewish abhorrence of apostasy when he refused to participate, saying: ‘I do not send congratulatory telegrams to a meshumad.” The wry remark attributed to Chwolson himself in the following story is probably apocryphal. Chwolson is reported to have said that he became a Christian out of conviction. “Who are you kidding?” said a Jewish friend. “How can you of all people, a learned Jew, be convinced that Christianity is true and Judaism false?” To which Chwolson is supposed to have replied: “I was convinced that it is better to be a professor at the university than to be a Hebrew teacher [melamed] in a small town.”
2. I have seen ads for the soon to be published new RCA Artscroll siddur. It will be interesting to see how the battle shapes up between the Sacks siddur and the new RCA Artscroll. I can’t see how the Sacks siddur is going to make any real headway, as I don’t think many shuls are going to get rid of the Artscroll siddur they have been using for so long, and which does just about everything you need a siddur to do. While the new RCA siddur was in the production stages, R. Asher Lopatin of Chicago sent the following letter to the Siddur Committee. I think it is interesting in that it shows some of the concerns of those on the Orthodox left. Although I haven’t seen the new siddur yet, I don’t think I am going out on too much of a limb to predict that the RCA will not be adopting Lopatin’s proposal. (I thank R. Lopatin for allowing me to publish his letter.[23])

 

The Practice of Saying She’asani Yisrael for the Birchot HaShachar instead of the three “Shelo Asani”s
In Masechet Menachot, 43b (Bavli), Rabbi Meir says that a person, “Adam”, has to (chayav) say three blessings every day: She’asani Yisrael, Shelo Asani Isha and Shelo Asani Bur. There is a note there that it should be Rabbi Yehuda saying this instead of Rabbi Meir, and also on the next line Rav Acha Bar Ya’akov replaces “Shelo Asani Bur” with “Shelo Asani Aved”.
The G’mara questions why we need to say both Shelo Asani Aved and Shelo Asani Isha, but it gives an answer to this question. Rashi, in his second explanation of that answer, on Menachot 44a, says that we need to say both in order to come up with 100 b’rachot. The Bach (O.C 46) argues that the main reason for saying all three is to increase the number of b’rachot we say to 100. He argues that that is the main reason for saying three b’rachot in the negative (shelo asani) instead of one b’racha in the positive (she’asani Yisrael) – basically, if you would say “She’asani Yisrael” then you couldn’t say “Shelo asani aved, isha”. The Aruch HaShulchan (46, yud) paskins as well that if you say She’asani Yisrael, you cannot say the other two negative b’rachot. The Mishna B’rura (46,16) leaves it as a dispute.
Most Rishonim, notably the Rif and the Rambam (according to the G’ra), disagree with our existing girsa of the words of Rabbi Meir/Rabbi Yehuda, and they have the first b’racha in the negative as “Shelo Asani Goy”. This is the standard version in siddurim, nusach Ashkenaz and Sepharad and Edot Hamizrach, with the occasional nusach of “Shelo Asani Nochri” instead of “goy”. The Magen Avraham (O.C. 46, tet) mentions, that there were siddurim – perhaps many of them – that had the b’racha of she’asani Yehudi , but that that is a mistake of the printers, and the Mishna B’rura (46, 15) says that there are several siddurim with “She’asani Yisrael” but that one should not say that as it is also a mistake that of the printers (shibush had’fus).
The Magen Avraham (O.C. 46, yud) and the Haghot Ha’Gra (O.C. 46) interpret the Rama (46, 4) as suggesting that converts should say “She’asani Ger” and the Bach (46) interprets the Rama as suggesting that converts say “She’asani Yehudi” – instead of the negative.
Moreover, the Rosh is in the back of Masechet B’rachot, paragraph #24 (daf 39 in our versions, referring to B’rachot 60a) – upholds the Girsa that we have in Menachot. It’s in rounded brackets in the Rosh, and the Divrei Chamudot on the Rosh doesn’t like it, but it is there. Importantly, the G’ra affirms it is the girsa of the Rosh (and the Tur, which doesn’t appear in our versions) in his Biur HaGra on OH 46:4.
Therefore:
Since many of the Nosei Keilim and the Aruch HaShulchan feel compelled to ask: Why are these b’rachot in the negative (see Taz 46:4 “Rabim makshim…”)?
And since the girsa that we have in our G’marras is She’asani Yisrael, supported by the Rosh and the G’ra
And since even though the Shulchan Aruch rejects our positive girsa of the b’racha, the Rama does support it (in some version) as a legitimate b’racha in certain circumstances – for a convert
And since even those who reject “She’asani Yisrael/Yehudi/Ger” for a convert, (Sh’lah and Bach, see Taz 46, 10), do not reject it because it is not a legitimate nusach, but, rather, because it does not apply to a convert who has made himself a Jew, rather than being created by God as a Jew.
And since the negativity of the three b’rachot causes lots of misunderstandings in shul where many people come from Reform, Conservative or unaffiliated backgrounds – or even from Orthodox backgrounds without perhaps truly understanding the love that Chazal had for all human beings, male, female, Jewish or Gentile
I have asked my shul, Anshe Sholom B’nai Israel Congregation, a shul that does a lot of kiruv, to follow the girsa of the b’racha according to the G’ra and the Rosh, and say, “She’asani Yisrael” and that a woman say “She’asani Yisraelit” instead of “Shelo Asani Goy.”
Once the first b’racha is said in this way, the way it appears in the G’marra Menachot, then we have no choice, based on the rule of ‘safek b’rachot lekula’ and based on the p’sak of the Aruch HaShulchan (from the Bach) , to avoid saying the final two, negative b’rachot of “Shelo Asani Aved” and “Shelo Asani Isha”.
Clearly this helps avoid many of the questions that people ask about the negativity toward “goyim” or “women” that someone who does not understand Chazal do ask. The answers given help, but for a shul dedicated to kiruv, these b’rachot are a big turn off.
On the other hand, the b’racha of “she’asani Yisrael/Yisraelit” is a beautiful b’racha, thanking God for making me Jewish – proud to be Jewish, excited to begin the day as a Yisrael.
In addition, from a philosophical point of view, rather than beginning the day with negative b’rachot, which accentuate the G’mara of “noach lo la’adam shelo nivra” (see Bach 46, then Taz 46, 4), let us begin the day with a positive b’racha “k’mo sha’ar b’rachot shemevarchim al hatova” (Magen Avraham, 46, 9). Not negating the p’sak of “noach lo…”, but just respecting the positive aspects which G’mara Menachot the way we have it preferred.
Homiletically, “She’asani Yisrael” matches very well with B’reishit 32:27: “Vayomer, Shalcheni ki alah hashacher” – see Rashi ad loc where that is referring to Birchot HaShachar of the angels! And then two p’sukim later, what b’racha (“ki im beirachtani”) does Ya’akov get? “Lo Ya’akov ye’ameir shimcha, ki im Yisrael”! There is no better way to bringing these p’sukim to life than by saying birchot hashachar every day the way our G’marra has it: “She’asani Yisrael” – proud as Ya’akov was to receive the name, “Yisrael.”
Finally, Rav Benny Lau, an important Talmid Chacham and leader of Beit Morasha, has told me that he, too, follows this practice of saying “She’asani Yisrael” – and he tells his daughters to say “Yisraelit” – in the morning and having it replace the three negative b’rachot.
At the same time, it is important to emphasize the need to reach 100 b’rachot a day, and to push people to be careful about saying Asher Yatzar when leaving the bathroom, and b’rachot before and after eating, and being in shul as frequently as possible in order to hear chazarat haShatz to more easily reach 100 b’rachot.
I would humbly ask the Committee responsible for the new RCA Artscroll siddur to consider either putting this practice in the siddur itself, as a possible “hanhaga”, or allowing this way of saying birchot Hashachar to appear on the RCA Artscroll siddur web site, to that I can download it and print it up for my shul, and any other shuls interested in this hanhaga can do the same.
Sincerely yours and with wishes of hatzlacha rabba,
Rabbi Asher Lopatin

 

3. Virtually every one of our sages, together with all their brilliance, offer at least one an unusual, sometimes even incomprehensible, idea. Since I am writing this right before Sukkot, here is something to think about when you take the Arba’ah Minim. R. Jacob Ettlinger, the greatest of nineteenth-century German gedolim, writes as follows in his Bikurei Yaakov 651:13. (If you raised this safek in shiur today, the rebbe would think you were joking, but as with even the strangest suggestions, one can often find a true gadol who discusses the issue.)
נסתפקתי אם אנו יושבי אירופא יוצאין בד’ מינין שגדלו באיי אמעריקא ואויסטראליען שיושבין לצדינו ותחתינו, וכן איפכא. שידוע מה שכתבו הטבעים שרגליהם נגד רגלינו, ומה שאין נופלין נגד השמים הוא מפני ששם הבורא כח מושך בארץ. וא”כ המינים שגדלו שם אם נוטלין אצלנו הוא הפוך מדרך גדולתן, שאצלנו גדלו ראשי הלולב וההדס ההם יותר למטה מזנבם. או אי נימא, כיון שנוטל הגדל סמוך לארץ למטה זה מקרי דרך גדילתו, והכי מסתברא.
4. In the latest Hakirah (Summer 2009), p. 134 n. 189, Chaim Landerer quotes my translation of a comment by R. Solomon Judah Rapoport. I didn’t know that Landerer was going to publish my translation, and I answered his e-mail quickly and carelessly. The correct translation is not that Rapoport is “as Catholic as the Pope,” but something even stronger. Frankel says that Shir is “more Catholic than the Pope.” (Thanks to R. Ysoscher Katz who caught the error and alerted me. Also thanks to Rabbi Jonah Sievers who is always helpful in matters concerning German translation. Not being a native speaker, and obviously not familiar with all idioms of the language, every translation I have published has been carefully reviewed by expert translators.)
Speaking of errors, let me also correct something that appears in Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy. This correction has already been taken care of in the more recent editions of the book, but those who have the first or second printing can insert the correction into the volume. How this error came about, I have no idea. I must have been in a daze, and it was only when the book was published that I saw it. On p. 180, beginning line 3 from the top, it states “Might one then be able to say that our great divine Torah cannot endure the conjunction of Torah with so-called secular studies . . .” It should be corrected to say, “Might one then be able to say that our great divine Torah cannot compete with so called secular studies . . .”
There is a popular expression
כשם שאין תבן בלא בר כך אין ספר ללא טעויות.
The internet is so amazing as it allows all of us to correct errors that have appeared in our works, and publicize them, something that was not possible in earlier years. R. Judah Ibn Tibbon wrote to his son, R. Samuel (Iggeret ha-Musar, ed. Korah [Kiryat Sefer, 2007], p. 45):
והטעות שתצא מיד האדם הוא הנתפש עליה ונזכר בה כל ימיו.
In other words, unlike a verbal error which is forgotten, something in print is there forever. Yet today, we can minimize this problem by means of the internet. Rather than be embarrassed by errors we have made, and try to ensure that no one learns of them, we should all welcome the opportunity to point out our errors, so that our works are as perfect as we can make them. This is quite apart from the unseemliness of pointing out the errors of others, but not being prepared to call attention to our own mistakes.
Incidentally, Ibn Tibbon’s work is full of important lessons, but he says one thing that is very problematic. On p. 42 he writes:
.
.ואל תתעקש אתה להחזיק בדעתך אפילו אם תדע שהאמת אתך
What sense does this make? Doesn’t the Torah tell us לא תגורו? Didn’t the Rambam speak his mind no matter who disagreed? In our own day, isn’t R. Ovadiah Yosef fearless in expressing his opinion, no matter how much he is attacked? I posed this question to R. Meir Mazuz and he replied:
זו הערה נכונה. כנראה ר’ שמואל היה עוד רך בשנים וחשש האב שיגרום לו קנאה ושנאה כמו שקרה לר”ש בן גבירול, וגם להגר”ע יוסף שליט”א בבחרותו כשחלק על הבא”ח כידוע. אבל כשאדם כותב ספר חייב לגלות את דעתו (בעדינות ובזהירות) ולא יכוף על האמת פסכתר. ובמשך הזמן תתגלה האמת, כי היא לעולם עומדת.
5. I want to call everyone’s attention to a fascinating new book. Dirshuni, edited by Tamar Biala and Nechamah Weingarten-Mintz, is a book of modern midrashim, written by women. It has been selling very well in Israel and is an exciting genre that deserves its own discussion. Those who want to see some small excerpts can go here.
To order the book you can go here
6. In my last post I mentioned R. Meir Amsel and the memorial volume that recently appeared. I should have also mentioned that his son, R. Eli Amsel, runs the site Virtual Judaica.
7. Finally, I thank everyone who commented and e-mailed me about R. Yerucham Gorelik. There is no question that he was a fascinating man, and an entire post could be devoted to the great stories told about him. It is also true that his relationship with YU was complicated. Let me quote what Dr. Norman Lamm wrote about Gorelik, shortly after his death.
Rabbi Yerucham Gorelick appeared at times to be engaged in some kind of titanic inner struggle. He was a cauldron of activity and movement, of perpetual motion. He was a man of striking, sometimes startling contradictions. He appeared to be moving in different directions simultaneously. He was a man of changing moods, of profound dialectical tensions, although he was at all times an ish ha-emet, a man of unshakeable integrity.
For Dr. Lamm’s article, see here

Notes

[1] “The Emergence of the Provencal Kabbalah : Rabbi Isaac the Blind’s Commentary on Sefer Yezirah” (1994).
[2] Letter to Samuel Atlas, dated Oct. 16, 1959, published in “Scholars and Friends: Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg and Professor Samuel Atlas,” Torah u-Madda Journal 7 (1997), p. 113.
[3] See R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg’s letter to R. Kook, Iggerot la-Reiyah (Jerusalem, 1990), p. 128
כבר הונח לי בהשתדלותו של רב אחד מרבני העדה הליברלית (דווקא ע”י רב ליברלי של העדה הליברלית, כאלו רוצה הקב”ה לזכות את כל ישראל במעלות שונות שיש בזה מה שאין וכו’).
[4] “The Religious Ethics of Samuel David Luzzatto” (Brandeis University, 1993).
[5] “An Orthodox Embrace of Gentiles? Interfaith Tolerance in the Thought of S. D. Luzzatto and E. Benamozegh,” Modern Judaism 18 (May 1998), pp. 173-195.
[6] See here A few days before his death, Rabbi Meir Kahane spoke at Brandeis. I think it was actually his last public talk before the night he was killed. For a video of Gopin confronting Kahane see here at 24:20, 31:50, and 43:05, and 56. Gopin starts to speak extensively at 1:02:45. The man standing next to Gopin is Dr. Aryeh Cohen, who also briefly served as Orthodox advisor at Brandeis. He now teaches at the American Jewish University. See here.
[7] See Shulhan Arukh, Orah Hayyim 199:6-7.
[8] He also had a nice sense of humor. On the first day of class he would come in and write his name on the board as “F-x.”
[9] The letter is found in the Chaim Bloch Collection, AR 7155.
[10] See here.
[11] Bernstein is now a nationally known professor of law. See here.
[12] Crown Heights: Blacks, Jews, and the 1991 Brooklyn Riot (Waltham, 2006).
[13] I have given the information on this to Rabbi Mark Dratch for his paper at the Orthodox Forum on the topic.
[14] See his article in the Jewish Chronicle, June 26, 1914.
[15] See Moshe Gresser, Dual Allegiance: Freud as a Modern Jew (Albany, 1994), p. 73. Hakham Bernays’ grandaughter, Martha (daughter of Berman Bernays) married Sigmund Freud. After they were married, Freud refused to allow her to light Shabbat candles. See ibid., p. 67.
[16] For details on the controversy surrounding Falkenfeld’s selection as rabbi, and how his opponents regarded as an “uncouth Polack” see Heinrich Graetz, History of the Jews (Philadelphia, 1898), pp. 2-3. When he was rav in Tarnopol, he also had to contend with troublemakers. See R. Solomon Judah Rapoport’s letter in Leopold Greenwald, Toldot Mishpahat Rosenthal (Budapest, 1920), p. 76. For a picture of his tombstone, see here.
I can’t explain why on the tombstone he is referred to as “Moses Samuel,” when it should be Samuel ben Moses. For his biography, see Beit Shmuel Aharon al ha-Torah (Jerusalem, 1994), introduction.
[17] See here. My information on Bilinski’s family background comes from Gotthard Deutsch’s article in the Jewish Chronicle, June 26, 1914.
[18] The Memoirs of Nahum N. Glatzer (New York, 1997), pp. 126-128. Although Glatzer left Orthodoxy, in his younger years he studied in R. Salomon Breuer’s yeshiva in Frankfurt, and also with R. Nehemiah Nobel. As such, he understood Orthodoxy very well. Glatzer, who died in 1990, was retired when I came to Brandeis in 1985. To my great regret, I never took the trouble to interview him as I did with Prof. Alexander Altmann, who retired from Brandeis in 1976. On pp. 129-130 of Glatzer’s memoir we find the following, which I am sure will interest many readers of the Seforim blog.
In 1944 Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik (called “the Rov” by his followers and admirers) published in Talpiot a major article, “Ish ha-Halakhah” (the Halakhic Personality). The essay, written in a most beautiful Hebrew style, not only claimed for the observance of Jewish law the central place in Jewish life, but denied the—however circumscribed—validity of any other approach. The Halakhah demands a complete control of the Jew, to the exclusion of an emotional state of mind to accompany the halakhc function. There is no rightful place for, or justification of, a state of excitement or religious agitation, say, in the ceremony of blowing the shofar on New Year’s Day; what matters, and matters exclusively, is the proper execution of the ritual.
This exclusion of the emotional side of religion bothered me when I read the essay. I planned a polemic reply but was dissuaded by my colleagues. I happened to visit New York and voiced my feelings to Professor Louis Ginzberg, the great Talmudist. I expected him to agree with me and object to the rigid stand of the Rov. The cautious Ginzberg did not wish to commit himself, or to say something that could be quoted as a criticism of his Talmudic colleague. He, therefore, did not go beyond saying: “I like my whiskey straight,” which was a mild complaint against the Rov’s combination of Halakhah and philosophy. The only reference that could be interepreted as an admission of esthetics into the realm of religion was Ginzberg’s telling of the Gaon of Vilna (brother of Rabbi Abraham, Ginzberg’s forebear in the seventh generation), who near death admired the beauty of the etrog that was brought to him, since the day was one of the Sukkot festival days.
(The Rov, apparently, would have felt: Never mind the etrog’s beauty. What matters is that the citron is without blemish and the benediction is properly pronounced.).
I was disappointed that Ginzberg did not wish to take seriously the younger man’s question. In the meantime, the Rov changed his position and realized the wider dimension of faith. If you wait long enough . . . [ellipsis in original]. Yet, even with the changed position on the part of the Rov, Ginzberg, were he alive, would insist on having his whiskey straight.
Glatzer sees “The Lonely Man of Faith” as expressing a change in the Rav’s earlier “halakho-centrism.” I wonder if Prof. Lawrence Kaplan will agree.
[19] Reshut ha-Yahid (Petah Tivah, 2003), p. 186.
[20] Ma’ayan Omer (Jerusalem, 2007), vol. 1, pp. 186, 194, 205. R. Hillel Posek, Divrei Hillel, Orah Hayyim, no. 8, strongly supports giving an intermarried man an aliyah, but not as one of the first seven. To deny such an aliyah woould be to embarrass the man, and Posek explains why even sinners cannot be treated with disrespect. See also his comments in Ha-Posek, Sivan 5747, p. 1336. In Amsterdam the practice was also not to give an intermarried man one of the first seven aliyot. See R. Jacob Zvi Katz, Leket ha-Kemah he-Hadash (London, n.d.), vol. 3, p. 63.
[21] Sha’alu le-Varukh, vol. 1, no. 40.
[22] Of course, there are many other poskim who forbid giving an intermarried man an aliyah. Even as liberal a posek as R. Ben Zion Uziel was adamant that you cannot call an intermarried man up to the Torah. See Mishpetei Uziel, vol 8, no. 53.
[23] For those who don’t know, Lopatin was the first Rhodes Scholar to become an Orthodox rabbi. In fact, he might be the first Rhodes Scholar to become a rabbi in any denomination. R. Chaim Strauchler of Toronto is the second Rhodes Scholar-Orthodox rabbi.



‘And How Can One Behold a Sefer Torah in Distress?’ On the Relationship between Rabbi Chaim Heller and Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik

‘And How Can One Behold a Sefer Torah in Distress?’

On the Relationship between Rabbi Chaim Heller and Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik

by Aviad Hacohen and Menachem Butler

 

This article, published on the occasion of the anniversaries of the passing of Rabbi Chaim Heller (14 Nisan 5720) and Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (18 Nisan 5753), may their memories be a blessing, reexamines their relationship through a newly published body of correspondence, situating their bond within the intellectual and material conditions of mid-twentieth-century American Orthodoxy.[1] The letters document both a relationship of unusual personal and scholarly closeness and the economic precarity and institutional instability that affected even leading Torah scholars of the period.

One such document, written by R. Soloveitchik in 1942 at a moment of acute crisis, reads as follows:

“Your esteemed honor has surely heard that our friend, the great and mighty gaon, luminary of the Diaspora and its glory, the crown of Israel’s splendor, our teacher and master Rabbi Chaim Heller, may he live long, has fallen gravely and dangerously ill. To our joy, and to the joy of all who fear God, our prayers have been accepted, and the Healer of all flesh has sent recovery and healing to the great one of our generation. Yet he remains weak and requires exceptional care. I therefore request of your esteemed honor, as a friend of the aforementioned gaon, to exert yourself on his behalf in every possible way. The supervision of the illness has entailed great expense, and even now the outlay is considerable while there is no income – and how can one behold a Sefer Torah in distress? I am confident that your esteemed honor will do all that is necessary, secure a fitting sum, and deliver it to the gaon R. H. Heller, may he live long, or to the fund ‘For R. H.’ I thank him in advance for his efforts. Your admirer and one who honors you.”[2]

In this letter, Soloveitchik addressed his friend Rabbi Simon (Abraham Yeshayahu) Dolgin,[3] then rabbi of Congregation Beth Jacob in the Beverly Hills neighborhood of Los Angeles, where he would serve for more than three decades and build one of the most significant Orthodox communities on the American West Coast. Upon receiving the appeal, Dolgin promptly sent a contribution; it appears, however, that its amount did not meet Soloveitchik’s expectations.

In a subsequent letter of appeal sent to Rabbi Dolgin approximately one month later [=14 July 1942], R. Soloveitchik again wrote:

“I received your letter together with the check. To my great regret I cannot deliver it to our friend, the great gaon, the mighty shepherd, may he live long, for the sum is not commensurate with the honor and majesty of a gaon of Israel, a luminary of the Diaspora, who dispersed his wealth to the poor and destitute, and whose home was open wide to all who were embittered and broken in spirit. Woe unto us, that the rabbi of Israel stands in need of aid and assistance. I request of your esteemed honor – who, as I have heard, is among the friends of the aforementioned gaon – to do all that lies within your power and to send a proper and worthy sum.”

The letters published here for the first time provide a rare window into the distinctive relationship, a bond of unusual personal and intellectual intimacy, and the enduring ties that prevailed for decades between two of the leading Torah scholars in the United States in the twentieth century. At the same time, they illuminate the manifold hardships, including acute financial privation, humiliation, and disappointment, that rabbis of that period were compelled to endure as they sought even minimal means of livelihood with which to sustain their households. This fate did not spare even one of the foremost sages of the generation, R. Chaim Heller, who, in order to support his family, was compelled to piece together sporadic and temporary sources of income until he eventually attained, albeit only in relative terms, a measure of stability and a settled position that afforded him and his family a degree of economic security.[4]

Beyond their intrinsic interest, these letters are of particular importance by virtue of the period in which they were written. They date to the years of the Second World War, from which very little of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s correspondence has survived.

Already in these early letters, the literary Hebrew of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik and his distinctive stylistic register stand out prominently.[5] They attest both to the profound bond between the two scholars and to R. Soloveitchik’s sustained concern for the welfare of his colleague and intimate friend, R. Chaim Heller. Their connection began years earlier in Berlin.

R. Chaim Heller (1879-1960) was among the leading Torah scholars of the early twentieth century. Alongside his greatness in Torah, he was deeply engaged in the scholarly study of Talmudic literature and biblical translation.[6] His work was characterized by a distinctive methodological orientation that sought to challenge the prevailing assumptions of modern biblical criticism through philological rigor grounded in the resources of the rabbinic tradition. In his introduction to On the Jerusalem Targum to the Torah (New York, 1921), R. Heller sharply criticized what he termed the “mechanical method” of comparing ancient translations in order to posit divergent textual recensions. Against this approach, he argued that the multitude of so-called “variants” in translations such as the Peshitta, the Septuagint, and the Samaritan Pentateuch do not reflect alternative Hebrew originals, but rather systematic exegetical practices. In his view, the translators did not render the biblical text literally, but interpreted and expanded it in light of traditions preserved in Hazal. This thesis enabled him simultaneously to undermine the conclusions of contemporary critics and to reaffirm the centrality and antiquity of the Oral Torah as an interpretive matrix for Scripture.[7]

This distinctive synthesis of traditional learning and critical scholarship was already prefigured in the formative trajectory of his early life. Born in Białystok and raised in Warsaw, he was already in his youth known as “the prodigy of Warsaw.” From the age of ten he ceased studying with melammedim; he never attended a yeshiva and acquired his entire Talmudic learning independently, as an autodidact. He married the daughter of a wealthy member of the Łódź community, and in the home of his uncle in Warsaw encountered the leading sages of the generation, engaging them in rigorous dialectical discussion. Among them were R. Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, author of Beit ha-Levi; R. Isaac Elchanan Spektor of Kovno; and the Netziv of Volozhin. During these years he also formed especially close ties with R. Chaim Soloveitchik, his relative by marriage R. Eliyahu Feinstein of Pruzhany, and R. Eliyahu Chaim Meisel of Łódź. In later years, he received a doctoral degree from the University of Würzburg.

Following the death of Rabbi Malkiel Tzvi Tannenbaum, the community of Łomża was left without a rabbi, and its leaders resolved to appoint Rabbi Heller, already known as a sharp and penetrating scholar and a man of broad learning who held a doctoral degree. By that time he had published studies on the Septuagint and on Maimonides, which drew the respect of both rabbinic and academic circles. Yet after only a few months he resigned his post. Various explanations have been offered for his departure: some point to his reluctance to devote extensive time to communal responsibilities, which he regarded as bittul Torah, while R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik recounted that Rabbi Heller himself expressed concern that members of the congregation might pressure him to act against his convictions.

R. Heller soon left for Berlin, where, in 1922 he established the Beit Midrash ha-Elyon, an advanced institution for rabbinic training that drew a small but serious circle of students. Berlin at the time was a meeting ground of worlds, traditional learning and modern scholarship, and Heller moved between them with unusual authority. In R. Heller’s case, this was not merely a sociological juxtaposition but a fully integrated intellectual stance, in which Wissenschaft methods were appropriated and redirected in defense of the integrity of the Masoretic text and the authority of the Oral Torah.[8] It was there that the young R. Soloveitchik spent several formative years. He was not formally enrolled in the institution, but he attended Heller’s lectures and was deeply influenced by them. What impressed him was not only R. Heller’s mastery of Torah and scholarship, but the range of his mind – the sense that he inhabited both disciplines fully, without strain or concession.

In 1929, R. Chaim Heller was appointed as a Visiting Professor of Bible at RIETS,[9] and “for close to ten years Heller taught in New York while occasionally traveling to Berlin and elsewhere before settling in the United States.” More than a decade later, his name was even floated by Rabbi Dr. Leo Jung as a potential successor as Rosh Yeshiva of RIETS following the death of R. Moshe Soloveichik in 1941.[10] A contemporaneous portrait of Heller’s intellectual profile appears in a 1930 article by R. Yerahmiel Elimelekh (Max J.) Wohlgelernter in the ha-Pardes journal, in which R. Heller is presented not merely as a scholar of unusual range, but as a figure who entered directly into confrontation with modern biblical criticism on its own terms, armed with philological expertise yet grounded in the authority of the rabbinic tradition. Against what R. Wohlgelernter characterizes as the “mechanical” methods of contemporary critics, R. Heller is depicted as demonstrating that the multiplicity of textual variants in ancient translations reflects interpretive practice rather than divergent textual recensions, thereby reasserting the integrity of the Masoretic text and the centrality of the Oral Torah as its interpretive matrix.[11]

In 1937, several years after the rise of the Nazis to power and the intensification of anti-democratic measures directed especially against the Jews, R. Chaim Heller emigrated to the United States and settled in New York. That same year, R. Moshe Feinstein likewise arrived in New York. During this period, R. Heller renewed his connection with R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, who had come to the United States some five years earlier at the urging of his father, R. Moshe, then Rosh Yeshiva of the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary. In Boston, R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik led his community with distinction and, alongside his teaching, increasingly assumed a position of broader intellectual and religious leadership, establishing himself as a central figure for a growing circle of students and adherents.[12]

Despite this recognition of his intellectual stature, the conditions that Heller encountered upon his arrival in the United States were markedly different. Like many rabbis who fled Germany on the eve of the Second World War and arrived in the United States as refugees,[13] R. Chaim Heller entered a professional landscape that was structurally inhospitable. The lingering effects of the Great Depression continued to constrain both the rabbinic and academic labor markets.[14] Congregational positions, even in smaller and more remote communities, were typically occupied by long-established incumbents, while the few available posts offered only modest remuneration. Universities, for their part, were in a period of contraction, with limited hiring and little institutional appetite for figures whose scholarly profile did not align neatly with existing departmental frameworks. For a scholar of Heller’s unusually wide and interdisciplinary range, no obvious institutional niche presented itself.

In response, Heller adopted a peripatetic mode of intellectual livelihood. Lacking a stable appointment, he supported himself through public lectures, assembling an income that remained precarious and contingent. This required sustained mobility, persistence, and a readiness to engage even relatively small audiences. At one stage, this itinerant circuit took him as far as Los Angeles, a journey that, under the conditions of the time, entailed considerable logistical and physical demands, where he delivered a series of lectures in his areas of expertise. It was likely in the course of this visit that he first encountered Rabbi Dolgin.

The notice of R. Chaim Heller’s arrival in Los Angeles appeared in the Los Angeles Times, March 22, 1940.

It may be assumed that, in the wake of this visit, the relationship between the two was further strengthened. Expression of this is found in three letters written during those years by R. Chaim Heller to R. Dolgin, which are published here for the first time.

 

The first letter is dated 4 Nisan 5700 [= 12 April 1940], a short time, approximately three weeks, after R. Chaim Heller’s arrival in Los Angeles. It reads as follows:

“To the honorable Rabbi Abraham Isaiah Dolgin, may he live long: Your esteemed letter has reached me. Although Magnin[15] caused considerable damage, it seems to me that his words made no impression upon ploni, notwithstanding the saying, ‘When a word cannot enter in its entirety, it enters in part.’[16]

I have a conjecture as to whose soul spoke through Magnin, and whose finger was involved in undermining the matter there, but why should we speak of what has passed.

Since Your Honor requested of me “to forgive him for his errors,” I hereby note that, indeed, your entire letter was written well; however, two errors slipped from your pen: first, that you wrote also “concerning the matters of his נשיאתו (nesi’ato, ‘his presidency/bearing’) to Chicago,” whereas it should read נסיעתו (nesi‘ato, ‘his travel’); and second, that you wrote שגיאותי ושגיעותי (shegiyotai, ‘my errors’), and such a latter form does not exist.

I have drawn his attention to this out of my great affection for him,[17] and your honor should take care to be precise in his writing. You also wrote to me that Mr. Sh. desires to discuss matters with Rabbi B. [Bernard Revel[18]]; however, your honor knows that the latter has recently opposed me with full force, though I do not know the cause of his reversal,[19] and I am uncertain whether your honor acted wisely in writing to him, for he and those associated with him may think that I prompted your honor to do so. I have been brief in all this, and I conclude with blessings of peace and all good to your honor, according to your will and the will of one who esteems and cherishes you, and who inquires after your welfare.

Chaim Heller”

In the margin of the letter, his wife added a brief greeting of her own: “I too inquire after his welfare. Miriam Heller.”

The second letter was written approximately two months later, on the eve of the festival of Shavuot, in which R. Chaim Heller gives expression to his frustration that promises made to him, apparently concerning the provision of a stable source of livelihood, had not been fulfilled. It reads as follows:

3 Sivan [5700] [9 June 1940]

To the honorable Rabbi Abraham Isaiah Dolgin, may God preserve and sustain him,

Your esteemed letter reached me with delay, as is the way of ordinary post, and I shall respond to all your inquiries: regarding the matter of the years [?], up to this day there is nothing whatsoever, and I had indeed waited and hoped for this, and accordingly set aside and abandoned other undertakings which I now lack greatly – very greatly.

I very much wished to meet with […], but in truth it was difficult for me to request this.

Concerning the attitude toward the war,[20] it is certainly an obligation and a commandment, and I have much to elaborate on this matter. Books addressing this subject are not presently known to me, for I am entirely without books in my home; with God’s help, I shall set my mind to seeking them out.

I shall be brief this time. With blessings for long life, a joyous festival, and days of gladness always, in accordance with your will and the will of one who esteems and honors you, who inquires after your welfare and goodness.

Chaim Heller

[p.s.] My wife and daughters inquire after your welfare, and bless you with every good, selah.

The third letter was written approximately a year later, on the eve of Passover 5701. At that time, reports in the press in the Land of Israel[21] indicated that R. Heller was about to receive a teaching appointment at Yeshiva University alongside his colleague R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik. Having grown accustomed to disappointment, R. Heller feared that this announcement amounted to no more than a “trial balloon” lacking any concrete foundation. This apprehension, together with his distress at both the substance and the tone of the report, found expression in a letter he addressed to R. Dolgin:

 

“12 Nisan 5701 [9 April 1941]

To the honorable Rabbi Abraham Isaiah Dolgin, may God preserve and sustain him,

After a long period of silence while confined to bed, I received your letter. Concerning the report that you read: to this day I have no connection whatsoever with the yeshiva.[22] I have not spoken even a word – however slight[23] – with any person, and I was selected entirely without my knowledge; indeed, I am far removed from accepting an appointment in such a manner. I immediately considered issuing a denial in the very newspaper that published the report, but many worthy individuals dissuaded me, on the grounds that matters might yet develop otherwise, and that the counsel of the Lord shall prevail.”

In this connection, he related to his friend his deliberations regarding an additional source of livelihood – delivering lectures to vacationers in the Catskill Mountains during the summer months:

“You surely recall that two years ago I was approached to deliver lectures, for remuneration, before rabbis and scholars, etc., during the summer season (be-idna de-qayta), in the vacation period; and now this matter has again been raised, and I am prepared to lecture for six weeks in one of the pleasant locales to which people travel.

The lectures would be held three times a week and would encompass a comprehensive and wide-ranging treatment of biblical scholarship and the Talmuds, such that ‘the ear would not be sated with hearing’.[24] Over this period, the listener would gain far more than he would in a year or two at any college or seminary in the world. However, I require a highly energetic organizer who will undertake to arrange this enterprise properly. May your honor be blessed with all good and prosperity, and may you celebrate the Festival of Unleavened Bread with joy and delight.”

After several years in the United States, during which he lacked a stable source of livelihood, R. Chaim Heller secured a position on the teaching staff of Yeshiva University and served alongside his colleague R. Samuel Belkin, R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, and R. Moshe Shatzkes on the RIETS Ordination Board.[25]

Screenshot

Yet, as emerges from a letter cited below, his salary conditions remained far from favorable. Efforts were made to improve them and, over time, met with a measure of success. The literary oeuvre of R. Chaim Heller is vast in scope. Yet, as R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik would later describe in his eulogy, what was published only represents only a minute fraction, “mere remnants of remnants,” of the breadth of his orally transmitted Torah. It should also be borne in mind that the overwhelming majority of his writings were composed prior to his arrival in the United States.

Among his works in the field of biblical scholarship, particular note should be taken of his studies on the textual tradition of the Bible and its various translations: his work on the Jerusalem Targum to the Torah (New York, 5681 [1921]); on the Samaritan Pentateuch (Berlin, 5684 [1924]); on the Septuagint in the Concordance Heikhal ha-Qodesh, with appended notes, commentaries, and investigations in biblical studies (New York, 5704 [1944]); and on the Peshitta, the Syriac translation of the Bible (transcribed into Hebrew script, with notes, glosses, and commentaries by Chaim Heller: Genesis, Berlin, 5687 [1927]; Exodus, Berlin, 5689 [1929]). He prepared a revised edition of the Peshitta to Exodus for publication but did not succeed in completing its printing prior to his death. Among his halakhic works, his annotated edition of Maimonides’ Sefer ha-Mitzvot (first edition, Piotrków, 5674 [1914]) is well known. A subsequent edition of this work was published by Mossad HaRav Kook in Jerusalem (5706 [1946]) – and has since appeared in numerous further editions – and for this work he was awarded the Rav Kook Prize in 5707 [1947]. His writings also include Hiqrei Halakhot, analytical investigations of legal rulings and issues in the section Hoshen Mishpat (vol. I, Berlin, 5684 [1924]; vol. II, Piotrków, 5692 [1932]); as well as studies on various topics in Maimonides and the halakhic decisors concerning the laws of lending and borrowing and their ancillary matters (Chicago, 5706 [1946]). In addition, he published, in jubilee and memorial volumes, several qontrasim that functioned as a kind of Masoret ha-Shas for the Jerusalem Talmud.[26]

Even after R. Chaim Heller had joined the faculty of Yeshiva University, R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik continued to seek ways to assist him, inter alia by working to secure an increase in his salary. Expression of this may be found in a brief letter that he wrote to R. Chaim Heller on 23 Sivan 5713 (5 June 1953), which is likewise published here for the first time:

Erev Shabbat, 22 Sivan 5713 [5 June 1953]

To my honored friend, the true gaon, luminary of the Diaspora, crown of Israel and its glory, pillar of halakhah and instruction, may he live long,

Greetings and blessings!

I departed New York on Thursday morning and arrived in Boston utterly exhausted. On the preceding Wednesday I met with Rabbi Rosenberg at a certain inn, and we resolved to add two thousand dollars annually[27] to your honor’s salary. It seems to me that next month you will receive a check in accordance with the new scale. We trust in God that the matter will be brought to a good conclusion and that no obstacle will arise in connection with it. Naturally, the matter must remain in absolute confidence, and no one need be informed of it.

I conclude with abundant blessing and faithful affection,

Joseph Dov HaLevi Soloveitchik[28]

This quiet intervention on Heller’s behalf was not an isolated act, but part of a sustained pattern of concern. In this connection, it is instructive to recall R. Aharon Lichtenstein’s characterization of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, in his eulogy. Reflecting on his father-in-law’s own self-understanding, he writes:

“The personal self-conception that characterized the Rav, of blessed memory, with respect to his own functioning was bound up with educational–pedagogical activity, and this across multiple spheres. He would often remark that when he arrived in the World of Truth, and were he to be asked to specify by virtue of what he merited a share in the World to Come, he would indicate three points: (a) that he studied Torah with his children; (b) that he founded the Maimonides School in Boston; (c) that he was concerned, over an extended period, for the honor and welfare of a certain talmid hakham.”[29]

This final point refers to R. Soloveitchik’s sustained and well-documented efforts on behalf of R. Chaim Heller. The depth of this personal concern was not confined to the private sphere, but found parallel expression in a sustained intellectual and institutional collaboration between the two. A further expression of their bond and cooperation is found in their joint letter of response to Israeli Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion, who in 1958 approached them, among other “Sages of Israel,” to solicit their opinion on the question “Who is a Jew?” Although the inquiry was addressed to each of them separately, the two resolved to compose a joint reply. Thus they wrote, inter alia:

“We are indeed perplexed that the State of Israel now seeks to hew down our traditional branches and thereby smear the ancient glory of Israel which has long been sanctified through the spilt blood and sufferings of preceding generations. It is only because of these roots that we preserve our uniqueness as a holy people and that we are inextricably bound to the Holy Land. … Will the present State of Israel be built up by (maintaining a threat of) destruction to its very sanctity?”[30]

The same bond found further expression in another brief letter issued by R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik some two years later, likewise published here for the first time. The occasion for its dispatch was the forthcoming wedding of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s daughter, Tova, to Rabbi Dr. Aharon Lichtenstein, his most distinguished student.

In September 1959, a small notice appeared in the “Announcements” column of The Commentator, the student newspaper of Yeshiva University, reporting the engagement of Dr. Aharon Lichtenstein, a member of the class of 1953, to Tova Soloveitchik. It appeared alongside advertisements for driving instruction and for Barton’s confectionery (under OU supervision).[31]

Approximately a month and a half later, in November 1959, the parents of the couple sent a formal invitation to family members and acquaintances. The Hebrew text was ornate, replete with distinctive idioms, and clearly bore the imprint of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s unique stylistic signature:

“To our friends in all their places of residence – may your peace flourish without end! We hereby inform you that Tova shall be betrothed and married to Aharon, with the grace of God, on the evening preceding the fourth day of the week, on the twenty-second day of the month of Kislev, in the year five thousand seven hundred and twenty from Creation, according to the reckoning we follow here in Boston, the city situated at the approaches of the sea. Pray assemble at six o’clock on that evening in the Dorothy Quincy Hall, in the John Hancock Building (355 Stuart Street), for the celebration of bride and groom, for the festive meal, and for the joy of a commandment. Rejoice with us in the joy of our offspring’s wedding day and in the gladness of our hearts. Joseph Dov HaLevi and Tonya Soloveitchik; Yechiel and Bluma Lichtenstein.”

By contrast, the English version was brief, formulated in a more formal and utilitarian manner. The period during which the invitations were sent was one of particular intensity in the Soloveitchik household. At that time, R. Soloveitchik received an informal invitation to put forward his candidacy for the position of Chief Rabbi of Israel[32]; concurrently, he was engaged in intensive preparation for the major eulogy for his uncle, the Griz, R. Yitzhak Ze’ev Soloveitchik, later known as the discourse “Mah Dodekh mi-Dod.”[33]

תמונה שמכילה טקסט, נייר, מכתב, ספר תוכן בינה מלאכותית גנרטיבית עשוי להיות שגוי.

On account of the mention of his name as a candidate for the office of Chief Rabbi, an extensive journalistic interview with R. Soloveitchik was conducted in Yedioth Ahronoth.[34] The interviewer, Elie Wiesel (later a Nobel laureate), reported that, following the Rav’s annual Teshuvah Derashah several months earlier, the Israeli consul general in New York had sent a telegram to Jerusalem declaring: “Here is the best candidate to replace Rabbi Herzog.”[35] Wiesel asked R. Soloveitchik whether he would agree to assume the position if it were offered to him. R. Soloveitchik replied that no such offer had yet been made, but added in principle: “One does not decline an invitation that comes from the Land of Israel… When I receive it, if indeed it is sent, I shall consider it with utmost seriousness. I shall ask myself whether I am worthy of so exalted an office.” When Wiesel further inquired whether it was true that his uncle, R. Yitzhak Ze’ev Soloveitchik, had instructed him not to accept the position, R. Soloveitchik dismissed the report: “It is difficult to believe such rumors. In our family there is a tradition not to compose wills… perhaps because we fear death and its reality.”[36]

In the course of the interview, R. Soloveitchik spoke with evident pride of the religious and spiritual revival among youth and young adults in America, yet added that talk of their immigration to the Land of Israel was, at most, “a beautiful dream.” He attributed the gap between the intensification of Jewish and religious consciousness and the reluctance to immigrate, inter alia, to Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion, who, in his view, failed to appreciate the potential inherent in religion to draw youth to Israel and to demand sacrifice on its behalf. “In my view,” said the Rav, “Ben-Gurion is a religious Jew, though it is possible that he himself does not know this.” These remarks, whose precise formulation was itself questioned in contemporaneous discussion, elicited sharp criticism from several prominent figures within American Jewry. Among them was Moshe Meisels, editor of ha-Doar, who, in a pointed “open letter,” challenged both the claim that Israel had lost its ‘messianic’ hold on the Jewish imagination and the attribution of this development to deficiencies in the religious posture of the Israeli state.[37] Questioning the very premise of R. Soloveitchik’s formulation, Meisels asked rhetorically whether it could truly be maintained that “the concept of Israel has lost its messianic content,” and whether the responsibility for such a development could plausibly be laid at the feet of the state. The Rav sought to respond, but was exceedingly occupied with the final polishing of the eulogy for his uncle, R. Yitzhak Ze’ev Soloveitchik, which he was to deliver within a matter of days.[38]

Indeed, as the Yiddish adage has it, a mentsh trakht un Got lakht – man plans, and God laughs. Only a few days after the wedding invitations for his daughter and R. Aharon Lichtenstein had been dispatched, R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik was diagnosed with colon cancer and was required to travel urgently to Boston to undergo life-saving surgery. R. Soloveitchik informed his family, including the bride and groom, on the night that he delivered the eulogy for his uncle. On the following day, he departed for Boston. The couple, of course, immediately announced the postponement of the wedding, and all prayed for the Rav’s recovery.

R. Soloveitchik himself, only fifty-seven years old at the time, confided to those close to him: “I suddenly ceased to be immortal; I became a mortal being.” In the nights preceding the operation, he undertook a profound reckoning of his life. In later years, he described something of his experience during those turbulent days:

“My existential awareness was an absolute one. Non-being did not enter into it. I would not sustain my gaze upon nihility. Whenever I started to think of death, my thoughts were dashed back and they returned to their ordinary objective, to life. When I looked upon my grandson, I always tried to think of him as if he were my contemporary. I believed that we would always do things and play together. Then sickness initiated me into the secret of non-being. I suddenly ceased to be immortal; I became a mortal being.

The night preceding my operation I prayed to God and beseeched him to spare me. I did not ask for too much. All I wanted was that he should make it possible for me to attend my daughter’s wedding, which was postponed on account of my illness – a very modest wish in comparison with my insane claims to life prior to my sickness. The fantastic flights of human foolishness and egocentrism were distant from me that night.

However, this ‘fall’ from the heights of an illusory immortality into the valley of finitude was the greatest achievement of the long hours of anxiety and uncertainty. Fundamentally, this change was not an act of falling but one of rising toward a new existential awareness which embraces both man’s tragedy and his glory, in all its ambivalence and paradoxality. I stopped perceiving myself in categories of eternity. When I recite my prayers, I ask God to grant me life in very modest terms.”[39]

Further testimony to R. Soloveitchik’s state of mind during this period is found in a letter he sent to R. Reuven Katz, Chief Rabbi of Petah Tikvah. At its outset, the Rav explains that he had fallen gravely ill and been confined to bed, describing the experience in stark terms:

“Dark days, filled with anxiety, suffering, and silent loneliness, passed over me. My world was suddenly overturned. Yet the merit of my forefathers stood by me in the hour of wrath, and the Holy One, blessed be He, in His abundant mercy redeemed my soul in peace and did not allow me to die… Even now, as I begin to recover, I have not yet shaken off the physical weakness and the psychological dread that overcame me during those bitter and difficult hours of illness and suffering.”[40]

He then turns to the question of the Chief Rabbinate, noting both the changed circumstances and his own unsuitability for the role:

“However, the recent developments concerning the Chief Rabbinate… have cast a new light upon the situation, and I doubt whether I would be able to engage in Torah study with peace of mind… There is compelling reason to assume that I would become entangled in all the convolutions of politics, a matter that is neither to my spirit nor to my desire… Therefore I am compelled to acknowledge that, under the present circumstances, I am not fit for this office. I am a teacher, and I have in my world nothing but the four cubits of halakhah. I do not wish to depart from them, even were I to be offered an entire kingdom.”

These remarks make clear that R. Soloveitchik’s refusal to consider candidacy for the position of Chief Rabbi was shaped both by the lingering effects of illness and by a principled resistance to political entanglement, together with a self-conception rooted in the life of Torah within “the four cubits of halakhah.”[41]

As a result of his illness, R. Soloveitchik remained in Boston for approximately three months, during which he gradually recovered. In the course of this period, he merited to bring his daughter Tova and his son-in-law, R. Aharon Lichtenstein, under the wedding canopy. In consultation with the family, it was decided to postpone the wedding by only one month following the operation, and it was ultimately held on 26 Tevet 5720 (26 January 1960).[42]

A week before the rescheduled wedding, still confined to his bed and not yet recovered from surgery, R. Soloveitchik insisted on writing to his close friend R. Chaim Heller. The letter, published here for the first time, was not written in his own hand. The script shows that he dictated it, most likely to his wife, and, in his weakened state, managed only to sign his name.

“To my honored friend, the gaon of Israel and its glory, luminary of the Diaspora and pillar of halakhah and instruction, may he live long; greetings and blessings! Although the physicians have forbidden me to engage in writing on account of my extreme weakness, I cannot refrain from writing this letter in order once again to extend a heartfelt invitation to your esteemed honor, to your esteemed wife, and to your distinguished daughter, may they live, to participate in the wedding of Tova and Aharon. Their presence on the day of our heart’s rejoicing will lend joy and splendor to the celebration. With great affection, Joseph Dov HaLevi Soloveitchik.”

His wife, Dr. Tonya Soloveitchik, appended a moving appeal of her own in Yiddish:[43]

January 19, 1960

To the honorable and true gaon, R. Chaim Heller, to his esteemed wife, the rebbetzin, and to their refined daughter, may they live – greetings and blessings!

We had hoped that we would have the opportunity to visit you once more and to invite you personally to the wedding of our Tova. To our regret, however, my husband’s illness has altered our plans, and we have no possibility of coming to New York to do so.

What we are unable to do orally, we must now do in writing: we warmly invite you all to the wedding! Your presence will greatly enhance our joy.

I also wish once again to thank you for the friendship you have shown during my husband’s illness. Your good wishes and blessings gave us strength at a critical time.

With regards and respect,

Tonya Soloveitchik

In the end, R. Chaim Heller did not attend the wedding, apparently due to his frail health and the difficulty of traveling from New York to Boston. Within a few months, on the Fourteenth of Nisan 5720 (10 April 1960), the Eve of Passover, he returned his soul to his Creator.[44] Although the constraints of time and the approaching festival precluded extended eulogies, R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik flew from Boston to New York to attend the funeral, delivered brief words of farewell, recited kaddish at the funeral,[45] and returned to Boston before the onset of Passover. The rabbinic journal ha-Pardes would later note that “his close friend and trusted associate, Rabbi Joseph Dov Soloveitchik of Boston, eulogized him in moving words.”[46] Although these remarks were long thought to have been lost, a partial and mediated record preserved in the Yiddish press makes it possible to recover something of their content:

“A visit to Rabbi Chaim Heller was in the nature of a pilgrimage… When I would arrive at the elevator of the building at 210 West 99th Street… I would experience a sensation as though a curtain had descended, separating between the sacred and the profane. The Temple comprised three divisions: the Holy of Holies, the Sanctuary, and the Courtyard. Rabbi Chaim embodied all three. He conducted himself within the Holy of Holies… his occupation was solely with Torah… The entirety of the Torah lay before him as an open book… Yet he also partook of the character of the Courtyard, engaged with the community of Israel as a whole… From him radiated both the light of immense knowledge and the simplicity of humanity.”[47]

Even in this compressed form, the structure of the eulogy is already fully present: Heller is cast simultaneously as a figure of absolute immersion in Torah, of intellectual breadth, and of human accessibility, an integration that would find fuller expression in Soloveitchik’s later memorial address. Several weeks later, he returned to the task in a more formal setting, delivering a powerful and deeply moving eulogy at a memorial gathering at Yeshiva University.

As is well known, and in keeping with the characteristic reserve of the Lithuanian Torah greats, R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik was generally sparing in his expressions of affection, esteem, and praise for fellow scholars, and rarely employed language of overt admiration. In the case of R. Chaim Heller, however, he departed from this pattern and bestowed upon him an exceptional and uncommon measure of appreciation, the like of which he appears to have granted to few, if any, other Torah scholars.

This finds expression in the great and moving eulogy that R. Soloveitchik delivered for R. Chaim Heller nine weeks after his passing, at a public gathering at Yeshiva University on June 13, 1960, which also included eulogies by the institution’s president, Dr. Samuel Belkin. R. Soloveitchik’s eulogy was published the following year on the occasion of the first yahrzeit under the title “Rabbi Chaim Heller: The ‘Shmuel ha-Katan’ of Our Generation,” and opened with the following words:

“Who was this man who departed from us in silence and with gracious humility? What was his stature, and what were his deeds? Who was R. Chaim, who held no public office and had no need for conventional titles – whose entire greatness was encapsulated in two simple words: ‘R. Chaim,’ greater than ‘Rabban’ was his name? Some years ago… when the president of this institution, Rabbi Samuel Belkin, introduced R. Chaim… he employed the following formulation: ‘R. Chaim belongs to that small company of men of virtue for whom we pray each day in the Amidah: for the righteous, for the pious, for the elders of Your people the House of Israel, and for the remnant of their scribes. R. Chaim,’ the rabbi continued, ‘is of the remnant of Israel’s scribes.’ In this utterance he encapsulated all that was singular and wondrous in the man. At the time, I was seated on the platform beside R. Chaim, and as I beheld him – entirely withdrawn, enclosed and self-contained, as though scorched by the gaze of the audience fixed upon him – his lips murmuring, ‘What does he want of me?,’ and the pained embarrassment of a solitary individual, thrust against his will into a bustling and clamorous crowd, spread across his face…”[48]

תמונה שמכילה בחוץ, לבוש, אדם, מכונית תוכן בינה מלאכותית גנרטיבית עשוי להיות שגוי.

R. Chaim Heller and R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik in New York, in the vicinity of Yeshiva University.

Notes

    1. A shorter, and non-annotated, version of this article appeared in Hebrew as Aviad Hacohen and Menachem Butler, “‘A Sefer Torah in Distress’,” Makor Rishon, Pesach Supplement, no. 1495 (1 April 2026): 10-11, 16 (Hebrew), available here.We are grateful to our friend Aaron R. Katz and to the Dolgin family for granting us access to letters sent by Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Rabbi Chaim Heller to the family patriarch, Rabbi Simon (Abraham Isaiah) Dolgin, of blessed memory. We thank Shulamith Z. Berger of the Yeshiva University Archives for providing photographs of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Rabbi Chaim Heller. We are also grateful to Rabbi Moshe Dembitzer, author of several landmark biographical studies of Rabbi Chaim Heller, for sharing with us a forthcoming, as yet unpublished essay on Rabbi Soloveitchik’s graveside eulogy for Rabbi Heller.
    2. The letter bears no date; however, the postmark on the envelope indicates that it was sent from Boston to Los Angeles on June 9, 1942.
    3. On Rabbi Simon (Abraham Isaiah) Dolgin (1915-2004) and his extensive activities, see Jubilee Volume Minḥah Le-Ish: Presented to HaRav Simon A. Dolgin on the Occasion of His 75th Birthday, ed. Itamar Warhaftig (Jerusalem: Ariel, 1990). Ordained at the Hebrew Theological College in Skokie, Illinois, Dolgin assumed the rabbinate of Congregation Beth Jacob (later in Beverly Hills) in 1938 and served there for approximately thirty-two years, during which he transformed it into a prominent Orthodox community and developed a broad educational infrastructure, including the Harkham Hillel Hebrew Academy. In 1971 he immigrated to Israel, where he served as rabbi of the Ramat Eshkol neighborhood and later as Director-General of the Ministry of Religious Affairs. On his correspondence with David Ben-Gurion, see On the Character of the State of Israel: Correspondence between Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion and Rabbi Simon (Abraham Isaiah) Dolgin, ed. Yitzhak Goldshlag (Jerusalem, 1973; Hebrew).
    4. By way of comparison with the present, this phenomenon still finds occasional resonance in the lives of rabbis today.
    5. On this point, see the remark of Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein, at the conclusion of his discussion of “The Rav as Eulogist” (forthcoming):“It is difficult for me to conclude without saying a word about the literary dimension of these eulogies. For all my admiration of the Rav’s Torah greatness, and of the content of these eulogies – which is, of course, primary – it is hard not to be left in astonishment at his literary and linguistic ability. We are speaking of a person who was not educated in the Hebrew language, and whose knowledge in this area was drawn from reading Haskalah literature. Let us recall: the Rav did not live in a Hebrew-speaking environment, nor did he speak Hebrew fluently. Yet the richness of his language is truly astounding. Were one to read these texts for this purpose alone, I have no doubt that he would be amply rewarded.”
    6. On the most recent biography and intellectual profile of R. Chaim Heller, see the now substantial body of recent scholarship, which has significantly advanced our understanding of his life and work, see Moshe Dembitzer, “The Letters of Rav Chaim Heller,” Hitzei Giborim, vol. 9 (2016): 923-952 (Hebrew), which assembles and analyzes a wide corpus of correspondence and reconstructs key aspects of his personal and scholarly networks; Uriel Banner, “Towards a Profile of Rabbi Chaim Heller,” Asif, vol. 8 (2023): 720-766 (Hebrew), offering a synthetic biographical portrait grounded in both contemporary testimony and archival material; and Moshe Dembitzer, “‘To Show My People a New Type’: The Academic Chapter in the Life of Rabbi Chaim Heller,” Mekhilta, vol. 5 (February 2024): 365-382 (Hebrew), which reconstructs in detail his academic formation and intellectual program, particularly his engagement with philology and the Wissenschaft des Judentums milieu.
    7. For earlier biographical and bibliographical information on Heller, see Jacob I. Dienstag, “Ein ha-Mitzvot: Bio-Bibliographical Lexicon of the Scholarship on Maimonides’ Sefer ha-Mitzvot,” Talpiyot, vol. 9, no. 3-4 [=Rabbi Chaim Heller Memorial Volume] (September 1970): 663-759, esp. 697-702 [#20] (Hebrew), available here, which underscores both his expertise in biblical translation and linguistics and his programmatic effort to defend the integrity of the Masoretic text. For a critical assessment of R. Heller’s methodology, see Marc B. Shapiro, Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy: The Life and Works of Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, 1884-1966 (Oxford: Littman Library, 1999), 169-171, who characterizes R. Heller’s work as driven by a dogmatic commitment to the integrity of the Masoretic text and questions the scholarly validity of his attempts to account for all textual variants within that framework. On the polemical reception of Heller’s work among contemporaries, especially R. Yehiel Jacob Weinberg and Paul Kahle, see ibid. On the reception of Heller’s halakhic method within the American-yeshiva world, see Mordechai Gifter, “Halakhic Studies in [Rav Chaim Heller’s] ‘Le-Hikrei Halakhot’,” Talpiyot, vol. 9, no. 3-4 [=Rabbi Chaim Heller Memorial Volume] (September 1970): 913-921 (Hebrew). Rabbi Mordechai Gifter, at the time Rosh Yeshiva of the Telshe Yeshiva in Cleveland and a former student of R. Chaim Heller at Yeshiva College/RIETS in the early 1930s (prior to his subsequent entry to the world of Telshe in Lithuania), presents the work as a sustained program of conceptual halakhic analysis, marked by rigorous coordination of the Rishonim. In contrast to the reading of both Professor Jacob I. Dienstag and Professor Marc B. Shapiro, it is in Rabbi Mordechai Gifter’s reading of R. Chaim Heller that there is a reflection of the work’s reception within advanced yeshiva circles as an instance of high-level lomdus rather than as an idiosyncratic or marginal enterprise.
    8. See Moshe Dembitzer, “‘To Show My People a New Type’: The Academic Chapter in the Life of Rabbi Chaim Heller,” Mekhilta, vol. 5 (February 2024): 365-382 (Hebrew).
    9. “To Join Yeshiva Faculty: Dr. Chaim Heller of Berlin Will Be Professor of Bible,” The New York Times (18 September 1929): 24.
    10. Jeffrey S. Gurock, The Men and Women of Yeshiva: Higher Education, Orthodoxy, and American Judaism (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988), 130-131, 275n21. See also “Rabbi Chaim Heller, Yeshiva U. Professor, Dead at 81,” Yeshiva University News (5 April 1960), 6-7; and Gilbert Klaperman, The Story of Yeshiva University: The First Jewish University in America (New York and London: Macmillan, 1969), 152
    11. See Yerahmiel Elimelekh (Max J.) Wohlgelernter, “Rabbi Chaim Heller: Prince of the Torah and Ruler over the Treasures of Knowledge,” ha-Pardes, vol. 4, no. 2 (May 1930): 26-30 (Hebrew); and for a later popular portrayal in the American context, see Aaron Rosmarin, “Reb Chaim Heller – One in Generations,” The Jewish Criterion, vol. 20, no. 104 (15 September 1944): 175-178. Special thanks to Shimon Steinmetz for pointing us to this article by Dr. Aaron Rosmarin.
    12. See Seth Farber, “Reproach, Recognition and Respect: Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Orthodoxy’s Mid-Century Attitude Toward Non-Orthodox Denominations,” American Jewish History, vol. 89, no. 2 (June 2001): 193-214; Seth Farber, “Immigrant Orthodoxy’s Last Stand: The Rise of Rabbi Soloveitchik to Rosh Yeshiva,” in Immanuel Etkes, ed., Yeshivot u-Batei Midrashot: Mordechai Breuer Jubilee Volume (Jerusalem: Shazar, 2006), 417-430 (Hebrew); Seth Farber, “Immigrant Orthodoxy’s Last Stand: The Appointment of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik as Rosh Yeshivah at RIETS and the Coming-of-Age of American Orthodoxy,” in Bentsi Cohen, ed., As a Perennial Spring: A Festschrift Honoring Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm (New York, 2013), 173-187; and earlier in Seth Farber, An American Orthodox Dreamer: Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Boston’s Maimonides School (Hanover, NH: Brandeis University Press, 2004).
    13. See, for example, Michael A. Meyer, “The Refugee Scholars Project of the Hebrew Union College,” in Bertram W. Korn, ed., A Bicentennial Festschrift for Jacob Rader Marcus (Waltham, MA: American Jewish Historical Society, 1976), 359-375; Michoel Zylberman, “Yeshiva’s Response to World War II and Revel’s Rescue of European Refugees,” The Commentator, vol. 69, no. 4 (16 November 2004): 22-23; and most recently, Cornelia Wilhelm, The Last Generation of the German Rabbinate: German Refugee Rabbis in the United States, 1933-2010 (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2024).
    14. On the difficulties faced by immigrant rabbis in securing stable positions in the United States during the interwar and Depression years, including the need to obtain congregational contracts as a condition of entry and the scarcity of viable pulpits, see Jonathan D. Sarna and Zev Eleff, “The Immigration Clause that Transformed Orthodox Judaism in the United States,” American Jewish History, vol. 99, no. 3 (July 2017): 357-376.
    15. Rabbi Edgar F. Magnin (1890-1984) was a prominent American Reform rabbi who served for decades as the spiritual leader of Wilshire Boulevard Temple in Los Angeles, one of the most influential Reform congregations in the United States.
    16. Bereshit Rabbah 56:4; that is, a statement containing lashon hara – if it does not enter in its entirety [into the heart of its recipient], at least part of it enters.
    17. “Out of the abundance of my affection for him”; a common idiom found in the sources of Mishpat Ivri.
    18. Yeshiva’s founding president Rabbi Bernard Revel passed away a few months later, on December 2, 1940, in the prime of his life, at the age of fifty-five (!). For a biography from more than a half-century ago, see Aaron Rakeffet-Rothkoff, Bernard Revel: Builder of American Jewish Orthodoxy (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1972). See also Sidney B. Hoenig, “Rabbinics and Research: The Scholarship of Dr. Bernard Revel,” in Leon D. Stitskin, ed., Studies in Judaica in Honor of Dr. Samuel Belkin as Scholar and Educator (New York: Yeshiva University Press, 1972), 401-467; Harvey Horowitz and William M. Kramer, “Stamp of Approval: Oklahoma Oilman and Rosh Ha-Yeshiva Bernard Revel,” Western States Jewish History, vol. 18, no. 3 (April 1986): 256-261; Jeffrey S. Gurock, “An Orthodox Conspiracy Theory: The Travis Family, Bernard Revel, and the Jewish Theological Seminary,” Modern Judaism, vol. 19, no. 3 (October 1999): 241-253; and Moses Mescheloff, “As I Knew Him: Memories of Rabbi Dr. Bernard Revel,” in Menachem Butler and Zev Nagel, eds., My Yeshiva College: 75 Years of Memories (New York: Yashar Book, 2006), 76-80; and William L. Lee, “President Bernard Revel’s Triple Program: Inventing Jewish and Semitic Studies for the Original 1928-1929 Yeshiva College Curriculum,” in Hayyim Angel and Yitzchak Blau, eds., Rav Shalom Banayikh: Essays Presented to Rabbi Shalom Carmy by Friends and Students in Celebration of Forty Years of Teaching (Jersey City, NJ: Ktav Publishing House, 2012), 201-224.
    19. This remark (dated 12 April 1940) may plausibly be connected to the negotiations then underway between Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Dr. Bernard Revel concerning the proposed affiliation of Heikhal Rabbeinu Haym ha-Levi, the Boston graduate-level yeshiva founded by Rabbi Soloveitchik in 1939, with RIETS and Yeshiva College. Following a period of negotiation, a formal memorandum of agreement was drafted in May 1940, envisioning the Heikhal as a New England branch of the New York institution, with coordinated academic governance and shared institutional interests. In this context, R. Chaim Heller’s reference to Dr. Revel’s sudden opposition might reflect tensions surrounding these negotiations and suggests that Heller was attempting to advocate on Rabbi Soloveitchik’s behalf before Dr. Revel. See Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Community, Covenant, and Commitment: Selected Letters and Communications, ed. Nathaniel Helfgot (Jersey City: Ktav Publishing House, 2005), 168-169 (no. 7, “Memorandum of Agreement Between RIETS, Yeshiva College and the Graduate-Level Yeshiva in Boston Opened by Rabbi Soloveitchik”); and Samuel Pardes, “Observations on Sukkot in Boston on the Occasion of Ha-Pardes’ Jubilee,” ha-Pardes, vol. 14, no. 8 (November 1940): 27-29 (Hebrew), who describes the rapid consolidation of Orthodox communal life in Boston under Soloveitchik’s leadership, including the central role of the Heikhal, thereby providing contemporaneous evidence for the institutional significance of the Boston enterprise. See also Menachem Genack, “Rabbi Nota Greenblatt, zt”l,” Jewish Action, vol. 83, no. 2 (Winter 2022): 67-68, who notes that during the six months in which Rabbi Greenblatt studied at Heikhal Rabbeinu Haym ha-Levi, Rabbi Soloveitchik “sat opposite the sole portrait in the room – that of ‘the Zeide, Reb Chaim’.” Although the proposed affiliation with RIETS and Yeshiva College ultimately did not materialize, Rabbi Soloveitchik’s Boston enterprise continued to consolidate locally.As Maimonides School historian Seth Farber notes, on December 31, 1940, the Maimonides Educational Institute merged with Yeshivat Torat Israel and Heikhal Rabbeinu Haym ha-Levi, forming a unified institution soon relocated to a centrally situated campus serving the Orthodox communities of Dorchester, Roxbury, and Mattapan. In 1962, reflecting shifting demographic patterns in Greater Boston, the Maimonides School relocated to Brookline under the leadership of Rabbi Soloveitchik and his wife, Dr. Tonya Soloveitchik, chair of the School Committee. See Seth Farber, An American Orthodox Dreamer: Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Boston’s Maimonides School (Hanover, NH: Brandeis University Press, 2004), 56. See also Seth Farber, “Reproach, Recognition and Respect: Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Orthodoxy’s Mid-Century Attitude Toward Non-Orthodox Denominations,” American Jewish History, vol. 89, no. 2 (June 2001): 193-214; Seth Farber, “Immigrant Orthodoxy’s Last Stand: The Rise of Rabbi Soloveitchik to Rosh Yeshiva,” in Immanuel Etkes, ed., Yeshivot u-Batei Midrashot: Mordechai Breuer Jubilee Volume (Jerusalem: Shazar, 2006), 417-430 (Hebrew); Seth Farber, “Immigrant Orthodoxy’s Last Stand: The Appointment of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik as Rosh Yeshivah at RIETS and the Coming-of-Age of American Orthodoxy,” in Bentsi Cohen, ed., As a Perennial Spring: A Festschrift Honoring Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm (New York, 2013), 173-187; and Tovah Lichtenstein, “Mrs. Soloveitchik: A Biographical Sketch,” Tradition: A Journal of Orthodox Jewish Thought, vol. 55, no. 2 (Spring 2023): 95-112.
    20. The letter was written in the midst of the Second World War.
    21. “Leading Torah Sages Appointed Heads of Yeshivat Rabbeinu Yitzchak Elchanan in New York: Rabbis Dr. Chaim Heller, Rabbi Yitzhak Rubinstein of Vilna, and Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik,” ha-Tsofeh (4 April 1941): 1 (Hebrew).
    22. This is a reference to the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary.
    23. An expression from Kabbalistic and Hasidic literature, in its fuller form: “ata qalila de-leit beih meshasha,” meaning a slight utterance devoid of substance.
    24. See Ecclesiastes 1:8.
    25. This photo appears in Aaron Rakeffet-Rothkoff, The Rav: The World of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, vol. 2 (Jersey City, NJ: Ktav Publishing House, 1999), 216. 
    26. At the time, a rumor circulated that these booklets were composed as part of a commentary on the entire Jerusalem Talmud; if such a work existed, it has not come down to us.
    27. $2,000 in June 1953 is equivalent to approximately $24,386.94 in present-day value, adjusted for inflation based on the U.S. Consumer Price Index.
    28. This letter was made available to us, through the courtesy of the family of R. Chaim Heller, in August 2012.
    29. See Aharon Lichtenstein, “Eulogy for Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik,” Mesorah Journal, vol. 9 (1994): 8-33, esp. 24 (Hebrew).
    30. The letter was printed in English translation in Joseph B. Soloveitchik and Chaim Heller, Jewish Identity: Who Is A Jew?, ed. Baruch Litvin and Sidney B. Hoenig (New York: Feldheim, 1965), 116-117, and reprinted in a slightly different translation in Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Community, Covenant, and Commitment: Selected Letters and Communications, ed. Nathaniel Helfgot (Jersey City: Ktav Publishing House, 2005), 168-169 (#27. “On the ‘Who is a Jew?’ Question [a]”).
    31. The Commentator, vol. 50, no. 1 (24 September 1959): 4. See also Jesse Sodden, “A Jewish Ideal Realized on the American Scene (Interview with Stephen Klein),” The Jewish Forum, vol. 34, no. 6 (June 1951): 105-108; and Morris Freedman, “Orthodox Sweets for Heterodox New York: The Story of Barton’s,” Commentary Magazine, vol. 13, no. 5 (May 1952): 472-480.
    32. On this episode, see Jeffrey Saks, “Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and the Israeli Chief Rabbinate: Biographical Notes (1959–1960),” Bekhol Derakheha DeAhu (BaDaD), no. 17 (September 2006): 45-67. For a detailed account of an earlier, unsuccessful candidacy and its broader implications, see Aviad Hacohen, “‘You May View the Land from a Distance, but You Shall Not Enter It’: Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s Candidacy for the Tel Aviv Chief Rabbinate and the Riddle of His Subsequent Refraining from Visiting Israel,” in Dov Schwartz, ed., Religious Zionism: History, Thought, Society, vol. 9 (Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 2023), 153-222 (Hebrew).
    33. See Gerald J. Blidstein, “Rabbi Dr. Soloveitchik Eulogizes Famed Uncle, The Brisker Rav,” The Commentator, vol. 50, no. 5 (17 December 1959): 1,3. The eulogy was later published as Joseph B. Soloveitchik, “Mah Dodekh mi-Dod,” ha-Doar, vol. 43, no. 39 (27 September 1963): 752-759 (Hebrew), and reprinted in Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Besod Hayahid Vehayahad, ed. Pinchas Peli (Jerusalem: Orot, 1976), 191-253 (Hebrew).
    34. Elie Wiesel, “‘The Immigration of Jewish Youth from the United States Is in the Nature of a Beautiful Dream’…: said Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, who has been mentioned as a candidate for the position of Chief Rabbi of Israel, in a conversation,” Yedioth Ahronoth Sabbath Supplement (13 November 1959): 7 (Hebrew).
    35. See Jeffrey Saks, “Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik and the Israeli Chief Rabbinate: Biographical Notes (1959-1960),” Bekhol Derakheha DeAhu (BaDaD), no. 17 (September 2006): 45-67, esp. 50.
    36. Elie Wiesel, “‘The Immigration of Jewish Youth from the United States Is in the Nature of a Beautiful Dream’…: said Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, who has been mentioned as a candidate for the position of Chief Rabbi of Israel, in a conversation,” Yedioth Ahronoth Sabbath Supplement (13 November 1959): 7 (Hebrew).
    37. See Moshe Meisels, “The State of Israel and the Land of Israel: A Sort of Open Letter to Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik,” ha-Doar, vol. 40, no. 5 (4 December 1959): 71 (Hebrew).
    38. Gerald J. Blidstein, “Rabbi Dr. Soloveitchik Eulogizes Famed Uncle, The Brisker Rav,” The Commentator, vol. 50, no. 5 (17 December 1959): 1,3.
    39. These reflections were published only decades later, in Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Out of the Whirlwind: Essays on Mourning, Suffering and the Human Condition, eds. David Shatz, Joel B. Wolowelsky, and Reuven Ziegler (Hoboken, N.J: Ktav, 2003), 131-132. On this, see Dov Schwartz, “Finitude and Suffering: ‘Out of the Whirlwind’,” in From Phenomenology to Existentialism: The Philosophy of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, vol. 2 (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 227-289.
    40. Published in full in Marc B. Shapiro, “Letters from the Rav,” Hakirah: The Flatbush Journal of Jewish Law and Thought, vol. 32 (2022): 135-168, at 165-166 (Hebrew). An abridged version appeared in “Rabbi Dr. Joseph B. Soloveitchik Refuses to Stand for the Office of Chief Rabbi of Israel [Letters to MK Haim-Moshe Shapira and Rabbi Reuven Katz],” ha-Doar, vo. 40, no. 19 (11 March 1960): 330 (Hebrew), and a partial English translation is found in Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Community, Covenant, and Commitment: Selected Letters and Communications, ed. Nathaniel Helfgot (Jersey City: Ktav, 2005), 173-176 (no. 29, “Declining the Offer to Submit His Candidacy for the Position of Chief Rabbi of the State of Israel [a]”).
    41. See also Menashe Unger, “What Disappointed Rabbi Soloveitchik in the Chief Rabbinate?” Tog-Morgen Journal (11 March 1960): 5 (Yiddish); Menashe Unger, “Rabbi Soloveitchik Reflects upon the Great Responsibilities of the Rabbinate,” Tog-Morgen Journal (14 March 1960): 5 (Yiddish); and Menashe Unger, “Conversation with Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, ‘The Rabbinate and that of the State Are Two Separate Domains’,” ha-Tsofeh Literary Supplement (18 March 1960): 3-4 (Hebrew). An edited translation appears in Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Community, Covenant, and Commitment: Selected Letters and Communications, ed. Nathaniel Helfgot (Jersey City: Ktav Publishing House, 2005), 179-185 (no. 31, “On the Chief Rabbinate of Israel [c]”);
    42. For the literary gift from Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg to the newlyweds, see Shaul Seidler-Feller, “‘Amru Lo HaKadosh Barukh Hu … Yodea Ani Kavanato shel Aharon Heikh Hayetah Le-Tovah’: On a Short Wedding Wish to the Lichtensteins from the Pen of Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg,” The Seforim Blog (18 June 2015), available here.
    43. Our thanks are extended to Dr. Vicki Shifris and Dr. Nathan Shifris for their assistance in translating the letter.
    44. R. Chaim Heller passed away at the Hospital for Joint Diseases in Manhattan (now NYU Langone Orthopedic Hospital). See “Rabbi Chaim Heller, Yeshiva U. Professor, Dead at 81,” Yeshiva University News (5 April 1960): 6-7.
    45. See Aharon Benzion Shurin, “The Gaon Rabbi Chaim Heller Who Passed Away on the Eve of Passover,” Forverts (15 April 1960): 6 (Yiddish); and the testimony regarding the recitation of Kaddish attributed to Aharon Benzion Shurin’s brother, Rabbi Israel Shurin, in Hershel Schachter, Mi-Peninei ha-Rav (Jerusalem: Flatbush Beth Hamedrosh, 2005), 266 (Hebrew).
    46. Samuel Pardes, “The Gaon Rabbi Chaim Heller,” ha-Pardes, vol. 34, no. 8 (May 1960): 40 (Hebrew).
    47. We thank Rabbi Moshe Dembitzer for sharing an unpublished forthcoming essay on Rabbi Soloveitchik’s eulogy at Rabbi Heller’s graveside. The present English translation is based on a Hebrew rendering of the text in a forthcoming study by Moshe Dembitzer, “Words of Farewell at the Bier of Rabbi Chaim Heller,” and has been checked against the Yiddish original published by Hillel Seidman, “Rabbi Chaim Heller: His Genius in Torah and in Hokhmat Yisrael,” Tog-Morgen Journal (20 April 1960): 5 (Yiddish). See also Hillel Seidman, “The Combatant for the True Meaning of the Torah: After the Passing of Rabbi Chaim Heller,” ha-Doar, vol. 40, no. 23 (29 April 1960): 443 (Hebrew); and Hillel Seidman, “The Gaon Rabbi Chaim Heller: In His Halakhic Rulings and His Practices,” ha-Doar, vol. 40, no. 24 (6 May 1960): 460-461 (Hebrew).
    48. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, “Rabbi Chaim Heller: The ‘Shmuel ha-Katan’ of Our Generation,” ha-Doar, vol. 41, no. 23 (21 April 1961): 400-405 (Hebrew), reprinted in Ohr ha-Mizrach, vol. 9. 1-2 (September 1961): 1-11 (Hebrew); and then republished under a new title in Joseph B. Soloveitchik, “Rabbi Chaim Heller,” Panim El Panim, no. 514-515 (2 April 1969): 20-25 (Hebrew); and Joseph B. Soloveitchik, “Profile of Rabbi Chaim Heller (On the Tenth Anniversary of his Passing — Eve of Passover, 5720),” Shana be-Shana (1970): 197-221 (Hebrew). It was later reprinted under the title “Peletat Sofreihem” (lit. “The Surviving Remnant of Their Scribes”) in Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Besod Hayahid Vehayahad, ed. Pinchas Peli (Jerusalem: Orot, 1976), 254-294 (Hebrew); and Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Divrei Hagut ve-Ha’arakha, ed. Moshe Krone (Jerusalem: World Zionist Organization, 1982), 137-162 (Hebrew). A translation of this essay appears in Joseph B. Soloveitchik, “A Eulogy for R. Hayyim Heller” (trans. Shalom Carmy),” in Joseph Epstein, ed., Shiurei ha-Rav: A Conspectus of the Public Lectures of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (Hoboken, NJ: Ktav Publishing House, 1974), 46-65.

     




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

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

Marc B. Shapiro

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

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

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

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

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

Robinson states (p. 219 n. 25):

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

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

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

כנפשו הטהורה וכנפש ידידו

Furthermore, R. Medini always adds היו or less commonly סט after his name. Both of these are missing here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dunner writes:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

במשנה ברורה (סי‘ שיח סק לטהביא דעת כמה מן האחרונים להחמיר שלא לעשות תהאפילו בכלי שניורבנו אמר בזה הלשון – שהסבא שלו היה מדקדק במצוותוהיה משתמש בשקיות תה בכלי שניואף הוא היה נוהג אחריו להקל בזה גכ

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

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

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

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

דברתי אל לבם להשקיט הדברלבל יתחלל שם ישראל בעמים מהפקרות ופריצות צעירי הנעריםלאנוס ולנאוף ולחלל שבת ולרצוחוגם יש סכנה בדבר לריב עם עזי פנים כמותםושמעו אלי

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Quiz

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

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

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

***********

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

 

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

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




Shnayer Leiman – The New Encyclopaedia Judaica: Some Preliminary Observations

The New Encyclopaedia Judaica: Some Preliminary Observations

by

Shnayer Leiman 1. In 1972, the first edition of the Encyclopaedia Judaica appeared in print. With 25,000 entries, it moved well beyond its distinguished predecessors, such as the Jewish Encyclopedia (New York, 1906), the Universal Jewish Encyclopedia (New York, 1939-43), and the short-lived German language Encyclopaedia Judaica (Berlin, 1928-34). Its special focus on the Holocaust and its aftermath, on the State of Israel, and on the centrality of the Jewish community in the United States, rendered it the most current and useful of all the Jewish encyclopedias. But 35 years have passed since its publication, and there was a felt need for a new version that would update many of the entries in the light of scholarly advance. Also, new entries had to be provided for all that was new in Jewish life during the past 35 years. Early in 2007, the 22-volume second edition of the Encyclopaedia Judaica appeared in print – in hard copy and electronic versions – and it was heralded as yet another milestone in the history of Jewish encyclopedias.

2. A striking difference between the first edition of the Encyclopaedia Judaica (henceforth: EJ) and the second edition of the Encyclopaedia Judaica (henceforth: NEJ [= new Encyclopaedia Judaica]) is the almost complete lack of visual images in NEJ. Whereas EJ contained some 8000 photographs and portraits (judiciously selected from a larger pool of 25,000), NEJ has only 8 pages of photographs in the center of each volume. Thus, for example, the entry on Solomon Dubno (d. 1813) in EJ is accompanied by a striking portrait of him [reproduced below]. The portrait is lacking in NEJ. Similarly, the entry on Vilna in EJ is accompanied by some 9 photographs that make the city come to life; none appear in the NEJ entry on Vilna. The almost complete lack of visual images in NEJ is a fatal flaw that renders it the least attractive (and arguably, the least informative, for often pictures inform even more than words) of all the Jewish encyclopedias listed above in paragraph 1.

3. One of the key selling points of NEJ is that it updates – and allegedly supersedes – the 1972 edition of EJ. In the general introduction to NEJ, we are informed that more than 2,650 new entries were incorporated into NEJ, and that over half of the original entries (in EJ) were revised and updated for NEJ. Indeed, it is a delight to see entries in NEJ for Dina Abramowicz, Zvi Ankori, Gerson Cohen, Lucy Dawidovich, Marvin Fox, Ismar Schorsch, Yosef Yerushalmi and the like – none of whom were accorded entries in EJ. But upon inspection, it turns out that many key entries that needed to be revised and updated were neither revised nor updated. And regarding the new entries, there are serious errors of commission and omission.

Samples of entries that should have been updated, but were not, include:

a) Abraham b. Elijah of Vilna (d. 1808). NEJ reprints EJ, apparently unaware that some 130 printed pages of Abraham b. Elijah of Vilna’s writings on Bible, Talmud, Midrash, and Jewish bibliography were published for the first time, from manuscripts, in 1998 (see Yeshurun 4[1998], pp. 123-254). EJ and NEJ list Abraham b. Elijah of Vilna’s date of birth as 1750. Recent historical studies indicate otherwise and suggest he was born in 1766 (see, e.g., Yeshurun 14 [2004], pp. 982-996). These and other post-1972 studies on Abraham b. Elijah of Vilna surely merited mention in a revised and updated entry. In this instance, NEJ does not reflect the present state of modern scholarship.

b) Adam Ba’al Shem. NEJ reprints the EJ entry by Gershom Scholem, who – in one of the most controversial passages he ever wrote – identified the writings of the Sabbatean prophet Heshel Zoref (d. 1700) with the writings ascribed by Hasidic lore to the legendary Adam Ba’al Shem. The latter’s writings, according to Hasidic legend, formed the basis for the uniquely Hasidic teachings of R. Israel Ba’al Shem Tov. Scholars were quick to challenge Scholem’s identification during his lifetime and after his death. None are cited in the NEJ entry. An entire literature has grown around this particular issue. Much (but not all) of the relevant bibliography appeared in Y. Liebes, ed., גרשם שלום: מחקרי שבתאות, Tel Aviv, 1991, pp. 597-599. None of this appears in the NEJ entry. Once again, NEJ does not reflect the present state of modern scholarship.

c) Chajes, Zevi Hirsch (d. 1855). NEJ reprints the EJ entry. In the intervening years, numerous studies and two major books were published on Chajes, none of which is mentioned in NEJ. Here it will suffice to mention the titles of the two books:

Bruria Hutner David, The Dual Role of Rabbi Zvi Hirsch Chajes: Traditionalist and Maskil, Columbia University Ph.D., University Microfilms, 1971.

Mayer Herskovicz, רבי צבי הירש חיות, Jerusalem, 1972 (reissued: Jerusalem, 2007).

Here too, NEJ does not reflect the present state of modern scholarship.

d) Kalmanovitch, Zelig (d. 1944). NEJ reprints the entry in EJ. The diary (mostly in Yiddish and partly in Hebrew) of this Yiddish scholar — and victim of the Holocaust – is one of the most poignant of the Holocaust diaries. In 1977, Kalmanovitch’s son, Shalom Luria, publish an annotated Hebrew translation of the diary, together with a 50 page introduction that reveals much about Kalmanovitch that was not previously known. See Z. Kalmanovitch, יומן בגיטו וילנה, Tel Aviv, 1977, pp. 9-59. A sizeable and significant fragment of the diary, entirely in Hebrew, was discovered in the Lithuanian Central Archive in Vilna, and published in 1997. See Yivo Bleter 3(1997), pp. 43-113. None of this information appears in the NEJ entry. Regarding the Kalmanovitch entry, then, NEJ does not reflect the present state of modern scholarship.

e) Luria, David b. Judah (d. 1855). NEJ reprints the entry in EJ. No mention is made in either EJ or NEJ that a portrait of Luria is extant (in Vilna) and has been frequently published. See, e.g., Yahadut Lita,Tel Aviv, 1967, vol. 3, p. 62. More importantly, some 230 printed pages of Luria’s hiddushim on Bible, Mishnah, the Jerusalem Talmud, and Midrash Mishle, as well as responsa, were published for the first time, from manuscripts, in 1998-9. See Yeshurun 4(1998), pp. 489-647 and 6(1999), pp. 285-359. NEJ does not reflect the present state of modern scholarship regarding this entry as well.

 

4. Sins of commission are inevitable in any encyclopedia. The name of the game is to keep them at a minimum, and it is largely the responsibility of the editors to check and recheck possible misspellings, mistaken dates and facts, discrepancies, imaginary references, exaggerated claims, and the like. NEJ is not lacking in sins of commission in all of the above categories. One amusing instance will have to suffice for our purposes.

NEJ contains two entries of interest that appear several pages apart in volume 3. The first entry is entitled: Bloch, Chaim Isaac. The second entry is entitled: Bloch, Hayyim Isaac ben Hanokh Zundel Ha-Kohen. Innocent readers will assume, as they have every right to assume, that these represent two different persons. Alas, they are one and the same person. The first entry is a new one, designed especially for NEJ. The second entry is the old one, reprinted from EJ (minus the handsome photograph [reproduced below] that accompanied the original EJ entry). There are some interesting differences between the two entries. In the first entry, the reader is informed that Rabbi Bloch was born in 1867. Several pages later, however, Rabbi Bloch aged some 3 years, as we are informed that he was born in 1864. In the first entry, we are told mostly about essays he contributed to a variety of Torah journals – though mention is made of the fact that he published books as well. None of their titles are listed. In the second entry, not a word is said about his contribution to Torah journals. Instead, the titles of all his published works are listed. In the bibliographies appended to the two entries, each lists an item not in the other. The primary blame here hardly rests with the authors of the entries; presumably, they performed their assigned tasks as best they knew how. It is the sloppiness of the editors that allowed for the publication of two (sometimes contradictory) entries for one and the same person. Given the premium placed on space in any encyclopedia, this is a sin of no small import.

5. Sins of omission are inevitable in any encyclopedia. As the editors indicate in the general introduction to NEJ: “An obvious problem in the compilation of any encyclopedia is the decision as to which entries are to be included and which excluded …there is always a body of “borderline” entries which potentially could fall in either category. This problem becomes particularly sensitive when dealing with biographies of contemporaries. Which scholars receive entries and which do not? Where is the line to be drawn for rabbis or businessmen or lawyers or scientists? In some subjects, it was possible to fix objective criteria. For example when it came to U.S. Jewish communities, it was decided to include only those numbering more than 4,500.”

One can only sympathize with the impossible task before the editors. It was a no-win situation for them; whatever their decision, they would surely be open to criticism. If nonetheless I join the chorus of critics, it is not because of “borderline” entries. My own sense is that serious sins of omission occurred throughout NEJ, and in a broad range of categories. I shall attempt to illustrate this by selecting at random 5 categories of Jewish life that were of sufficient interest to me that I was even willing to leaf through the pages of NEJ in order to see how they were treated. I am well aware that others may consider unimportant what I consider important. What follows is no more than the personal opinion of one observer. The names listed below have no independent entry in NEJ and, at best, are mentioned in passing in other, often thematic entries.

a) Women. In the publicity relating to NEJ, it was stated openly that in earlier encyclopedias, including EJ, Jewish women were marginalized. They accounted for no more than 1.25% of the entries in EJ. This was a matter that would be rectified in NEJ. I do not know whether, in fact, this has been rectified in NEJ. But here are some omissions that seem striking to me.

 

1. Adele Berlin. A noted Bible scholar in the Department of Hebrew and East Asian Languages at the University of Maryland, her published books include:

Biblical Poetry Through Medieval Jewish Eyes; Dynamics of Biblical Parallelism; Poetics and Interpretation of Biblical Narrative; JPS Bible Commentary: Esther; Lamentations: A Commentary; Zephaniah: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary; and more.

2. Esther Rubinstein (1883-1924). An early advocate of religious Zionism, she was a leading Hebraist, Zionist, educator, and social activist in Vilna. Her learned essays on women’s suffrage paved the way for a change in rabbinic attitudes toward this issue. She founded the first religious day school for Jewish women in Lithuania. See the entry in אנציקלופדיה של הציונות הדתית, Jerusalem, 1983, vol. 5, columns 582-585.

3. Rivka Schatz-Uffenheimer (d. 1992) served as Edmonton Professor of Jewish Mysticism at the Hebrew University. Her many books on Kabbalah and Hasidut (e.g., Hasidism as Mysticism; The Thought of R. Moshe Hayyim Luzzatto [Hebrew]; The Messianic Idea from the Spanish Exile On [Hebrew]; R. Dov Baer of Mezhirech’s Maggid Devarav Le-Yaakov: An Annotated Edition [Hebrew] ) are landmarks in the history of Jewish mysticism.

4. Sara Schenierer (1883-1935), educator and author, founded the first Beth Jacob school in Cracow in 1917. In 1923, she founded the first Beth Jacob teacher’s seminary, also in Cracow. By 1927, there were 87 Beth Jacob schools, with over 10,900 students, in Poland alone. The movement spread throughout Europe, and ultimately to the United States and Israel, where it continues to thrive – with well over 50,000 students – to this very day. She also spearheaded a Jewish youth movement for young girls in Poland, wrote children’s literature and plays. Her collected writings were published in 4 volumes in Hebrew in Tel Aviv, 1955-60.

b) Rabbis.


1. R. Shneur Kotler (1918-1982) succeeded his father, R. Aharon Kotler, as Rosh Yeshiva of the Lakewood Yeshiva. He served in that capacity from 1962 until his death. Under his watch, the Lakewood Yeshiva grew from a student body of 200 students to a student body of over 1000 students. He established a system of Kollels throughout the larger Jewish communities in the United States. He was active in Agudat Israel, Chinuch Atzma’i, Torah U-Mesorah and other educational organizations. It was largely due to his leadership that the Lakewood yeshiva and its affiliate institutions number today well over 4000 students.

2. R. Eleazar Menachem Shach (1898-2001) was Rosh Yeshiva of the Ponevezh Yeshiva in Bnei Brak. From 1970 until his death, he was generally recognized by the Yeshiva world and by much of the Haredi world as the Gadol Ha-Dor. He was an occasional supporter of the Shas party, and was the founder of the Degel ha-Torah party. As such, he wielded enormous power in Israeli politics and the world over. He was the author of a monumental commentary on Maimonides’ Code, entitled Avi Ezri.

3. R. Yosef Shalom Elyashiv (b. 1910) succeeded Rabbi Shach as Gadol Ha-Dor. He is, arguably, the single, most powerful figure in the Yeshiva world and in much of the Haredi world. An expert in Jewish law, he has published some 26 volumes of hiddushim on the Talmud and Shulhan Arukh, as well as collections of responsa.

c) Academic Scholars. Two of the women listed above, Adele Berlin and Rivka Schatz-Uffenheimer, could just as easily have been listed under this rubric, with absolutely no bending of the rules. They were listed above only because of the claim that a special effort was made to include as many women as possible in the new entries for NEJ. Despite the claim, they were not accorded entries in NEJ.

1. Gerald Blidstein holds the Miriam Martha Hubert Chair in Jewish Law at Ben-Gurion University. His publications are simply too numerous to be listed here. Suffice to say that he was awarded the Israel Prize in Jewish Thought in 2006.

2. Menachem Cohen, Professor of Bible at Bar-Ilan University, is the head of the Mikra’ot Gedolot Ha-Keter Project – a project that is preparing for publication the Aleppo Codex and its Masorah, the Aramaic Targums, and critical editions of medieval Jewish commentaries on the Bible. Some 10 volumes have already appeared in print under his aegis. They represent the finest edition of Mikra’ot Gedolot ever produced.

3. Yehuda Liebes holds the Gershom Scholem Chair in Kabbalah at the Hebrew University. His many publications include: Studies in the Zohar; Studies in Jewish Myth and Jewish Messianism; and Elisha’s Sin (Hebrew). His annotated versions of Scholem’s studies are indispensable for scholarly research.

4. Haym Soloveitchik, University Professor at Yeshiva University, taught for many years at the Bernard Revel Graduate School of Yeshiva University. His published books include: Halakhah, Economics, and Communal Self Image (Hebrew); Pawnbroking in the Middle Ages (Hebrew); Wine of Non-Jews (Hebrew); Responsa as Historical Sources (Hebrew). Some of his shorter essays (e.g.“Three Themes in Sefer Hasidim”; “Rupture and Reconstruction”) have stimulated more discussion than books by others on the same topics. He was a recipient of the prestigious National Foundation for Jewish Culture Jewish Cultural Achievement Award in Jewish scholarship.

5. Yaakov Sussman is a world class Talmudic scholar who was awarded the Israel Prize for Talmudic Research in 1997. His many publications on the manuscripts, editions, and the history of the publication of the Mishnah, the Jerusalem Talmud, and the Babylonian Talmud; his edition of the “Miqsat Ma’aseh Torah” fragments of the Dead Sea Scrolls; and his edition of the Rechov inscription are the point of departure for all scholarly discussion of those topics.

 

d) Jewish Communities. As noted above, NEJ allows for an entry on any Jewish community in the United States with 4,500 Jewish residents or more. Thus, e.g., there is an entry on Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania which, perhaps, once had that many Jewish residents. According to the entry in NEJ, there were only 3000 Jewish residents in Wilkes-Barre in 2005. It is therefore somewhat surprising that there are no separate entries in NEJ on:

1. Monsey, N.Y.

2. Teaneck, N.J.

3. Far Rockaway, N.Y.

4. Lawrence, N.Y.

5. Cedarhurst, N.Y.

6. Woodmere, N.Y.

7. Kew Gardens Hills, N.Y.

I do not know the exact Jewish population of any of the towns listed above, but I suspect that each has at least 3000, and in all likelihood more than 4500, Jewish residents. In all fairness, NEJ presents a somewhat detailed discussion of Monsey and Teaneck under other rubrics (Rockland County and Bergen County). But I could not locate any discussion of Far Rockaway, the Five Towns, or Kew Gardens Hills. Each of these communities has a rich history, with many
synagogues, schools, and often institutions of national and international repute. They surely merit entries in NEJ.

6. The previous paragraph presents a rather long list of sins of omission relating to women, rabbis, academic scholars, and Jewish communities. One could easily add more names to each of the categories; and certainly so if yet other categories are examined. Doubtless, some will argue that there is simply no room in a 22-volume encyclopedia for so many “borderline” entries. In order to counter such an argument, I will list here four entries – exactly as they appear on the printed page – that found their way into NEJ.

1. Calwer, Richard (1868-1927). German socialist, economist, and politician. He belonged to the reformist wing inspired by Ferdinand Lasalle within the German Social Democratic Party (SPD). Calwer harbored a strong anti-Jewish bias. In a brochure published in 1894, he attacked the SPD’s radical wing as having been “incited by a few Jews who make slander their business,” and deplored that such “specific” Jewish characteristics as “zealousness, contentiousness, and commercial craftiness” had found their way into the party press and literature. He also criticized the SPD for combating anti-Semitism to the extent of creating the impression that Social Democracy had been “Judaized” (verjudet). Calwer left the SPD in 1909. He was a pioneer in Western socialist non-Marxian economics, which he taught until his suicide in Berlin.

2. Cohen, Philip Melvin (1808-1879), pharmacist and civic leader in Charleston, South Carolina. Cohen, born in Charleston, was the son of Philip Cohen, lieutenant in the War of 1812. During the Second Seminole War Cohen served as surgeon to a detachment of troops in Charleston Harbor (1836). In 1838 he became city apothecary. He was a member of the city board of health (1843-49). Cohen was a director of the Bank of the State of South Carolina (1849-55). He was one of the citizens who served as honorary guard at the funeral of John C. Calhoun in 1850.

3. Nagin, Harry S. (1890- ), U.S. civil engineer. Born in Romny, Russia, Nagin went to the U.S. in 1906. From 1924 he was executive vice president of a large steel products company in Pennsylvania. He took out over a hundred patents on steel structures, bridge floors, gratings, concrete, and plastics.

4. Abrams, “Cal” (Calvin Ross; 1924-1997), U.S. baseball player, lifetime .269 hitter over eight seasons, with 433 hits, 32 home runs, 257 runs, and 138 RBIS. Born in Philadelphia to Russian immigrant parents, he moved with his family to Brooklyn when he was a child. Having grown up in Brooklyn in the shadow of Ebbets field, Abrams fulfilled a life-long dream when he signed with the Brooklyn Dodgers after graduating from James Madison High School. But after two weeks in the minor leagues he was drafted into the army., where he served four years. Abrams spent three years in the minor leagues, winning the Southern Association championship with Mobile in 1947 while hitting .336. Abrams, who batted and threw left-handed, played for the Brooklyn Dodgers (1949-52), Cincinnati Reds (1952), Pittsburgh Pirates (1953-4), Baltimore Orioles (1954-55), and Chicago White Sox (1956), and had a perfect fielding percentage in three different seasons, 1950, 1952, and 1956. Abrams is best remembered for one of the most famous plays in Dodger franchise history. In the final game of the 1950 season, with the Dodgers one game behind the Philadelphia Phillies in the pennant race, Abrams tried to score from second with two out in the bottom of the ninth of a 1-1 game on a hit by Duke Snider, but Abrams, who had been waved home by third base coach Milt Stock, was thrown out by the Phillies’ Richie Ashburn. Had Cal scored, the Dodgers would have won the game and forced a playoff with the Phillies for the pennant. Dick Sisler hit a three-run home run in the top of the tenth to win the game – and the pennant – for Philadelphia. It was the closest Abrams ever got to the post-season. Dodgers fans vilified Abrams for years but he was defended by both Ashburn and Phillies pitcher Robin Roberts for the play, who agreed with many others who said that Abrams should not have been sent home by Stock.

————————–

Far be it from me to deny Richard Calwer (a non-Jew), Philip Melvin Cohen, Harry S. Nagin , and Cal Abrams – not exactly household names – their rightful place in Jewish history. But at the expense of Professor Haym Soloveitchik? NEJ inherited the Calwer and Cohen entries from EJ. But the Nagin and Abrams entries are original with NEJ. In the case of Abrams, whose baseball career ended in 1956, this is somewhat surprising, for he obviously didn’t make the cut with EJ in 1972 (in contrast to Hank Greenberg and Sandy Koufax). Now I am well aware that Rav Shach could not hit major league pitching to save his life, and that his lifetime batting average would have paled in significance to Cal Abrams .269 lifetime batting average. But, really, does Cal Abrams take precedence over Rav Shach in a Jewish encyclopedia?

 

7. In sum, the returns are hardly in. Not for nothing did we label these comments “preliminary observations.” Much more needs to be investigated before one can judge how well NEJ has captured the totality of past Jewish life, and the pulse of present Jewish life, as reflected in the 2007 edition. But until all the returns are in, hold on to your 1972 edition of EJ for dear life! It is not at all clear that NEJ has superseded, or that it will ever supersede, EJ. All public libraries and private collectors will do well to retain their 1972 editions of EJ and keep them precisely on the same shelves they have now occupied for some 35 years.

 




Lekah Tov – What’s in a Name?

Lekah Tov What’s in a Name?
by Marvin J. Heller[1]

For I give you good doctrine (lekah tov); do not forsake My Torah (Proverbs 4:2).

The entitling of Hebrew books is a subject of considerable interest, varying as it does from the more common manner of labelling comparable works. Book titles generally reflect a book’s subject matter. In contrast, however, Hebrew book titles often reflect a subtle theme, considerably wide-ranging between books with a like title.

This subject has been addressed previously, by me and by others, in the latter case even in book format, and as the subject of encyclopedia articles. My previously addressed book titles are Adderet Eliyahu and Keter Shem Tov.[2] What the books with those titles and Lekah Tov have in common is that the books so entitled frequently do not share common subject matter.

Our listing of editions entitled Lekah Tov, a popular title, is based on the editions recorded in bibliographic works, primarily Ch. B. Friedberg’s Bet Eked Sepharim, which covers the period 1474 through 1950, and Yeshayahu Vinograd’s Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book, which covers titles printed from 1469 through 1863. Shabbetai Bass’ (1641-1718) Siftei Yeshenim (Amsterdam, 1680), the first bibliography of Hebrew books by a Jewish author, records five works entitled Lekah Tov. Isaac Benjacob, in his Oẓar ha-Sefarim, records fourteen works (through 1863) entitled Lekah Tov.[3]

The editions of Lekah Tov described in this article are the earliest editions from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and one title from the first decade of the eighteenth century, that is, in 1704. The order of the works addressed in this article is in chronological order, that is the order in which they were printed, rather than the time of writing or the author’s names.

I

We begin with four sixteenth century editions of Lekah Tov, the lead edition being R. Tobias (Tovyah) ben Eliezer’s Lekah Tov, known as Pesiḳta Zuṭarta (Venice, 1546), followed by R. Moses ben Levi Najara Lekah Tov (Constantinople, 1575), then R. Yom Tov ben Moses Zahalon’s commentary on the book of Esther, and R. Abraham ben Hananiah dei Galicchi Jagel’s Lekah Tov (Venice, 1595).

R. Tobias (Tovyah) ben Eliezer: Our first Lekah Tov, by R. Tobias (Tovyah) ben Eliezer (eleventh cent.), is also known as Pesiḳta Zuṭarta. A midrashic commentary on the Pentateuch and the Five Megillot, it published in רננ”ו (306 = 1546) at the renowned press of Daniel Bomberg in folio format (20:93 ff.). Bomberg, a non-Jew, came to Venice from Antwerp, obtained a privilege from the Venetian Senate to print three books, and issued as his first imprint a Latin Psalterium (1515). Soon after, in December, 1515, Bomberg requested and received the right to print Hebrew books, with a monopoly based on the expenses already incurred with such an activity. By the time his press closed, more than four decades later in 1548/49, it had published between two hundred to two hundred fifty titles, covering the gamut of Jewish literature, encompassing liturgy, Talmud, halakhah, philosophy, and grammatical works, books of high quality.

1546, Venice


R. Tobias (Tovyah) ben Eliezer 1880, Vilna
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

Tobias (Tovyah) ben Eliezer’s (eleventh-twelfth centuries) place of residence has variously been given as Kastoria, Bulgaria, while others suggest Ashkenaz. Isidore Singer and M. Seligsohn suggest that Tobias might have been a native of Mayence (Mainz) and a son of Eliezer ben Isaac ha-Gadol, a teacher of Rashi. Ashkenaz is given suggested because Lekah Tov was written after 1097 and reference is made several times to the tribulations of the Crusades. In parashat (weekly Torah reading) Emor (Leviticus 21:1 – 24:23), for example, Tobias writes about the slaughter of the Jews in Mainz. However, as Tobias also frequently attacks Karaites and shows a knowledge of Mohammedan customs, it is suggested, by Solomon Buber, that that he was a native of Castoria in Bulgaria. Towards the end of his life Tobias settled in Eretz Israel.[4]

The pillared title-page of Lekah Tov has a header that, in a small font, states “There is neither wisdom, nor understanding, nor counsel against the Lord” (Proverbs 21:30). Below it is the phrase “the light of the righteous [will rejoice]” (Proverbs 13:9). Below in a larger font, is the title, given as Pesikta Zutarta, included here because later editions entitle and record Pesikta Zutarta as Lekah Tov.

This edition is on Vayikra, Bamidbar, and Devorim (Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy). Because the first edition was based on an incomplete manuscript which was lacking a first page, the printer entitled it Pesiḳta based on the word piska leading the words in the text. Tobias had entitled the work Lekah Tov because of the allusion to his name (tov, Tovyah, Tobias) in the title and begins each weekly Torah portion with a header verse with the word tov. For example, parashat Kedoshim begins with “Depart from evil, and do good (tov); seek peace, and pursue it” (Psalms 34:15); parashat Beha’aloscha “How sweet is the light, and it is good (tov) for the eyes to behold the sun!” (Ecclesiastes 11:7); and parashat Hukat “ You are good (tov) and beneficent, teach me Your laws.” (Psalms 119:68).

Tobias supports the literal meaning of the text but also quotes aggadot, midrashim, and the Talmud. He gives the grammatical meaning of words and quotes many halakhot, a recurrent source being R. Achai Gaon’s She’eltot. Tobias frequently refers to his father R. Eliezer, whom he refers to as ha-gadol or ha-kodesh (the great or the holy). As noted above, he attacks the Karaites and has a thorough knowledge of Mohammedan customs.

Tobias’ Lekah Tov has been cited by such leading rabbinic writers as R. Abraham ibn Ezra, R. Asher ben Jehiel (Rosh), R. Zedekiah (ha-Rofei) ben Abraham (Shibbolei ha-Leket), R. Menahem ben Solomon (Sekhel Ṭov, Even Boḥan), Rabbenu Tam, R. Isaac ben Abba Mari (Ba’al ha-Ittur), and R. Isaac ben Moses of Vienna (Or Zarua).[5]

Several editions of Tobias’ Lekah Tov on the Megillahs have been printed. The first reprint on the Torah commentary was in Vilna (1880) followed four years later by a second printing (1884), both by R. Solomon Buber at the Romm press.

R. Moses ben Levi Najara: Our next Lekah Tov is a commentary on the Torah with reasons for the mitzvot by R. Moses ben Levi Najara. This edition of Lekah Tov was printed in Constantinople at the press of the brothers, Jacob and Solomon ibn Isaac Jabez in folio format (20:150 ff.). They had printed previously in Salonica, for a brief interval in Adrianople and, after an outbreak of plague in Salonica in approximately 1570-72, Joseph Jabez sold his typographical material to David ben Abraham Azubib and left that city to join his brother Solomon in Constantinople. Solomon Jabez, had, in 1559, settled in Constantinople, founding a press that was active for about three decades. The brothers, issued more than forty titles in Constantinople.[6]

R. Moses ben Levi Najara was born in Turkey in c. 1502, perchance from a family whose origins were in Nájera, Spain. The family head, Levi Najara, settling in Constantinople after the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in1492. Moses Najara served as rabbi in Danaiditsch, spent time in Safed where at the age of thirty Najara was considered among the leading rabbinic scholars of Safed. In that location Najara was a student of R. Isaac Luria (Ari ha-Kodesh). He subsequently served as rabbi in Damascus. Moses Najara’s son, Israel Najara (c.1555 – c. 1625) was a noted poet, author of Zemirot Yisrael (Safed, 1587).

1575, Constantinople, Moses ben Levi Najara
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

The title-page of this edition of Lekah Tov has a decorative border of florets, typical of Jabez brother publications. It dates the beginning of work to Friday, 4 Shevat, then gives the year with the chronogram “Truth will sprout from the earth אמת מארץ תצמח (331 = January 10, 1571) [and righteousness will peer from heaven]” (Psalms 85:12). The dating of this edition of Lekah Tov is problematic. With the exception of Shabbetai Bass, who gives the Hebrew chronogram date, the above bibliographic sources date publication as 1575, as does the National Library of Israel, despite the date on the title-page of מארץ (331 = 1571). Avraham Yaari transcribes the text of the title-page and then also dates it 1575.[7] In contrast to the preceeding, Abraham David, M. Franco, and Shimon Vanunu, respectively writing entries for the Najara entry in the Encyclopedia Judaica, the Jewish Encyclopedia, and Encyclopedia Arzei ha-Levanon, all date Lekah Tov to 1571. This is also the case for Isaac Benjacob who, in his Oẓar ha-Sefarim, dates publication to 1571.[8] Perchance, indeed likely, one early source erred and the later works copied and repeated the error without ever seeing the book. Another apparent error is the weekday date for the beginning of work as Friday, 4 Shevat. In 1571 that was a Sunday and in 1575 a Saturday, so that, whichever year is correct, the date for the beginning of work also appears to be in error.

There is an introduction from Najara in which he informs that he has entitled Lekah Tov for it is a good and important study, one that will guarantee the completion of their souls, truly and completely, as it was given at Sinai, to them for a goodly portion. The text follows, organized by parashah, in two columns in rabbinic letters and homilies on the Talmud, Mechiltah, Sifrah, and Sifri.

This is the only edition of Moses ben Levi Najara’s Lekah Tov. Sha’ar ha-Kelalim, published in the beginning of R. Hayyim Vital’s Etz Hayyim, is attributed to Najara in several manuscripts.

R. Yom Tov ben Moses Zahalon: Commentary on the book of Esther by R. Yom Tov ben Moses Zahalon. Entries in this article are supposed to be in chronological order of printing and this Lekah Tov was published two years after the preceding entry. However, bibliographical sources record and discount a possible, albeit questionable, Constantinople [1565], which is not noted in Avraham Yaari’ Hebrew Printing at Constantinople so that we too are discounting it. The definite publication of Zahalon’s Lekah Tov was in Safed on Friday, Rosh Hodesh Sivan, in the year “[Hear, O Lord, and have mercy on me;] O Lord, be my help! ה” היה עזר לי ([5]337 = Friday, May 27, 1577)” (Psalms 30:11) in quarto format (40: 83, 1 ff.) by Eliezer ben Isaac Ashkenazi.

This Lekah Tov is not only the first book printed in Safed, it is the first book printed in Asia, excluding Chinese imprints. Eliezer ben Isaac Ashkenazi who had printed previously in Lublin for almost two decades, leaving, with his son, to dwell in Eretz Israel – printing also, for a short time on the way, in Constantinople – anticipating that he would print books for a European market eager to purchase books from the land of Israel. Eliezer Ashkenazi became partners with Abraham ben Isaac Ashkenazi, mentioned in the colophon (apparently not a relative), the former supplying the expertise and typographic material, the latter the location and the financing.[9]

R. Yom Tov ben Moses Zahalon (Maharit Zahalon, 1558-1638), born to a Sephardic family in Safed, was a student of R. Moses Bassudia and R. Joseph Caro. He received semicha (ordination) from R. Jacob Berab II. Highly regarded by his contemporaries, who often requested his opinion on complex halakhic issues, Zahalon was a person of great integrity, not influenced by status. For example, it was his opinion, although he had the utmost respect for Caro, that the Shulhan Arukh was, “a work for children and laymen.” Zahalon made several trips as an emissary of the community in Safed to Italy, Holland, Egypt and Constantinople.[10]

1577, Safed, R. Yom Tov ben Moses Zahalon
Courtesy of the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary

Lekah Tov was written by Zahalon at an early age, seventeen or eighteen, to send, as stated on the title page, for mishlo’ah manot (Purim gifts), to his father. Also on the title page is the prayer that, “the Lord should grant us the merit to print many books, for “from Zion shall go forth Torah, and the word of the Lord [from Jerusalem]” (Isaiah 2:3).

On the verso of the title page is a brief introduction, in which Zahalon refers to the burning of the Talmud in Italy and remarks that, “Great was the cry of the Torah before God and when He remembered the covenant that He made with us at Horeb (Sinai), the Lord roused the heart of the printer Eliezer [so that] honor dwelled in our land . . .” He encourages others to also print their books at the press in Safed. A second brief introduction from Joseph ben Meir follows, and then a longer introduction from the author. Zahalon informs that the book was named Lekah Tov because it has a reference to his name and because of the words of earlier sages on, “For I give you good doctrine (lekah tov); do not forsake my Torah” (Proverbs 4:2). The commentary, which is lengthy, includes both literal, homiletic, kabbalistic, and messianic interpretations. Zahalon does not reference a large number of other works. At the end of the volume is a copy of Marco Antonio Giustiniani’s (Justinian) device, a reproduction of the Temple in Jerusalem. Ashkenazi had used this mark previously in Constantinople.[11]


Zahalon was the author of more than 600 responsa, only partially printed (She’elot u’Teshuvot Yom Tov Zahalon, Venice, 1694); additional volumes of responsa and novellae on Bava Kamma were printed in Jerusalem (1980-81); and an extensive commentary on Avot de-Rabbi Natan entitled Magen Avot, still in manuscript.

R. Abraham ben Hananiah dei Galicchi Jagel: Catechism, or handbook on the principles of the faith, for Jewish youth by Abraham ben Hananiah dei Galicchi Jagel (1553-after 1623). This is the first edition of Jagel’s popular and much reprinted Lekah Tov. A small work, it was published as an octavo (80: 18ff.) by the press of Giovanni di Gara in Venice in 1595. Parenthetically, although the name Giovanni is given in non-Hebrew sources, the Hebrew name, which appears on the title-pages is Zoan, that is, Iohannes. The di Gara press, active from 1564 to 1611, is credited with more than 270 books, primarily in Hebrew letters, and only infrequently in non-Jewish languages.[12]

Jagel was born to the Galicchi (Gallico) family, one of the four noble families exiled from Jerusalem to Rome. The family name Jagel is taken from the liturgy of the afternoon Sabbath services (Abraham would rejoice יגל). Much of what is known about Jagel’s life is from Gei Hizzayon, an autobiographical and ethical work in the style of Dante. He settled in Luzzara, in the vicinity of Mantua in the 1570s, where, after his father’s death, he inherited the latter’s banking business, a venture, by his own admission, for which he was unqualified.

Jagel, mistakenly identified as Camillo Jagel, a censor of books from 1611, has been accused of apostasy. This identification has, however, been shown to be false. Jagel also had difficulties with business associates, particularly Samuel Almagiati, which resulted in their arranging his incarceration on several occasions, for carrying a small dagger, dining at night with a Christian, and for slander. In the last and longer imprisonment, he composed portions of Gei Hizzayon. Jagel later practiced medicine, but retained close ties with several Jewish bankers, among them Joseph ben Isaac of Fano, to whom Lekah Tov is dedicated. Jagel instructed Fano’s children, when, perhaps, he wrote Lekah Tov. In 1614, together with another banker, Jagel was kidnapped, but was able to pray three times a day with Tefillin and eat permitted foods only (Gei Hizzayon).

1595, Venice, Abraham ben Hananiah dei Galicchi Jagel
Courtesy of the Dorot Jewish Division, New York Public Library

Lekah Tov, the first catechism by a Jew, is stylistically copied from and conforms to the Catholic catechism of Peter Canisius (1521-97). It summarizes the principles of Judaism, based on Maimonides’ Thirteen articles of Faith, emphasizing Judaism’s moral and ethical aspects. Jagel also copied passages from Canisius = catechism, but without violating Jewish dogma and beliefs. The dedication, in Renaissance style, begins, “how a servant may benefit to find favor in the eyes of his lord,” followed by the introduction, in which Jagel defines his purpose as, to make a fence for the Torah and state the principles of Judaism, so that they should be fluent in the mouths of all, as did the prophets. He concludes that it is in truth a lekah tov (good doctrine, Proverbs 4:2) that I give you. The text is in the form of a dialogue between a rabbi and student, emphasizing the proper conduct for attaining happiness in the hereafter. Seven classes, each of sin and of virtue, are enumerated. The section on love towards one’s neighbor is quoted extensively in the Shelah’s Shenei Luhot ha-Berit.[13]

Lekah Tov has been reprinted thirty times, and translated into Latin, German, English, and Yiddish. Western European editions, beginning with a 1658 (Amsterdam) edition published by Naphtali Pappenheim, to compensate for insufficient Torah study. Pappenheim writes that Lekah Tov, a concise summary of the principles of the Torah, is suitable for all ages. A Yiddish edition (Amsterdam, 1675) by Jacob ha-Levi was intended for those who had difficulty with the Hebrew text and were engaged in earning a livelihood, not studying Torah sufficiently and who felt that it should be read daily by everyone.

Several editions were published by apostates, who found its style comfortable, and Christian-Hebraists, who wished to learn about Judaism, both utilizing it for missionary purposes. Eastern European editions are associated with precursors of the Haskalah in Russia. Jagel’s other works are Eishet Chail (Venice, 1606), an ode to womanhood and a code of behavior; Beit Ya’ar Levanon, a scientific encyclopedia, mostly unpublished; Be’er Sheva, also an encyclopedic compendium, and works on philosophy, astrology, and halakhah, also unpublished.

II

R. Moses ben Issachar Sertels: A Hebrew Judeo-German (Yiddish) glossary on the Prophets and Hagiographa, printed at the renowned Gersonides press in Prague, headed, from 1601, by Moses ben Joseph Bezalel Katz, his name appearing on the title-page. It was published in quarto format (40:284 ff.) in the year “Now I know that the LORD will give victory to His anointed עתה ידעתי כי הושיע ה” משיחו (364 = 1604)” (Psalms 20:7) in conjunction with Sertels’ Be’er Moshe (1605, 40: 104 ff.), a comparable work on the Torah, Hagiographa and Megillot.

Sertels (d. 1614-15) has been described by Aleander Kisch, et. al, as an exegete, resident in Prague in the first half of the seventeenth century. His name a “(סערטלש) is a matronymic from ‘Sarah.’” Olga Sixtová informs that he “shows up at the turn of the 17th century as one of the most active figures in Prague Yiddish (and Hebrew) book printing, as such he deserves more of our attention.” Sixtová writes that Sertel and his family came from Germany, likely from the Wurzburg area. A son, Issachar, died in Venna in 1625 and a daughter, Shendel, in Prague in 1631. His mobility is reflective of a Ashkenaz Jewish family, more so than of a settled Christian population. Sixtová also notes that the surname name Sertel (variously Sertl[e]in, sertl, Sertln), was after Sarah, his mother.[14]

Sertels’ Lekah Tov is described by Moritz Steinschneider as “a glossary on Pent. etc. (Moses explained), in which text is expressed separately and together with the text. Beginning as a paraphrase preceding it, in which is completed the version of words or sentences together with the expositions.”[15] It is similarly described by Otto Muneles, who records Lekah Tov together with “be’er Moŝe . . . lekah. Prag 1604, 40. (Yidd. Glossary on the Prophets and Hagigrapha.).[16] Be’er Moshe, is also glosses and notes in Yiddish.


1604, Prague, R. Moses ben Issachar Sertels
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

Sixtová writes that Sertel’s glossaries reflect his long years and experience as a teacher. In the preface to Be’er Moshe he suggests that it could be used in place of a teacher, as the rabbis, who wander from place to place lack the time to go through the entire text with their pupils. 

The title-page of Lekah Tov has a somewhat lengthy text which begins that it is an attractive explanation in [Ashkenaz] (Judeo-German), informing that it is done with understanding and wisdom on the twenty-four books [of the Bible], of great benefit to the aged and the young. Further on Sertels notes that it was written with “an iron pen (stylus)” (Jeremiah 17:1; Job 19:24) and he entitled it Lekah Tov and included reasons. The text begins with Joshua and concludes with Daniel and Chronicles. Lekah Tov is primarily set in Vaybertaytsh, a semi-cursive type generally but not exclusively reserved for Yiddish books, so named because these works were most often read by women and the less educated.[17]

Strangely, Lekah Tov, which preceded Be’er Moshe, is recorded as a supplement to that work. Moreover, Lekah Tov, as noted above, is comprised of 284 ff. whereas Be’er Moshe, is comprised of 104 ff.

R. Abraham ben Hananiah dei Galicchi Jagel: As noted above, Jagil’s Lekah Tov has been translated into several languages. An example of these translations is the 1679 Latin edition with the title Catechismus Judaeorum. It was published in London at the press of Anne Godbid & J. Playford in duodecimo format (160: [26], 58, 58 pp.).


1679, Catechismus Judaeorum (Lekah Tov), Abraham Jagel, London
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

It is a bi-lingual Hebrew-Latin c6atechism, or handbook on the principles of the faith, based on Maimonides’ thirteen principles of faith, for Jewish youth. Lekah Tov was written at a time when catechisms became popular as a genre due to the Reformation and Counter-Reformation. It is the first such work written for Jews. This notwithstanding, Lekah Tov became popular not only with practicing Jews but also with non-Jews and converts as a window into the beliefs of Judaism.

More unusual is this edition, the first Hebrew-Latin translation. It was prepared by an apostate, Ludovicus de Compeigne de Viel, who had been engaged by Colbert, Louis XIV’s minister of finance, to translate Maimonides’ Yad ha-Hazakah into Latin. Originally a convert to Catholicism, he subsequently converted to Protestantism under the tutelage of Henry Compton, Bishop of London.[18]

The title page, entirely in Latin, is followed by a dedication to Compton [3-10], an introduction in Latin with Hebrew [11-19] which traces the history of Jewish theology and works on Judaism, and errata. The text is in Hebrew and Latin on facing pages, each with its own pagination. The Latin text has marginal biblical references. The volume concludes with a prayer and a colophon from Meshullam ben Isaac. De Viel’s purpose, as expressed in the introduction, is to demonstrate the similarity of much Jewish and Christian doctrine. He also paraphrases Jagel’s introduction. The popularity of Lekah Tov with non-Jews may be partially attributed to the false belief, based on a misidentification, that Jagel had converted to Christianity; that unlike other works by apostates it was used to emphasize similarities rather than differences between the two religions; and that c7atechisms were part of the conversionary experience. None of this was Jagel’s intent when he wrote Lekah Tov, which was intended solely for Jewish youth.

Translations of Lekah Tov in our period were p8rinted previously in Amsterdam (1658, 1675 [Yiddish]), 9and reprinted in London (1680 [English]), Amsterdam (1686), Leipzig (1687 [Hebrew-Latin]), Franeker (1690 10[Hebrew-Latin]), Frankfurt am Oder (1691[Hebrew-Latin]), and Leipzig (1694 [Hebrew-German]).[19]

III

R. Eliezer Lipman ben Menahem Maneli (Menli) of Zamosc: Discourses and explanations of Talmudic aggadot and midrashim by R. Eliezer Lipman ben Menahem Maneli (Menli) of Zamosc, published at the Frankfurt on the Oder press of Michael Gottschalk. Originally a bookbinder and book-dealer, Gottschalk was brought into the press by Johann Christoph Beckmann, a professor of Greek language, history, and theology at the University of Frankfurt on the Oder. The latter, to, whom the press originally belonged, found that he had insufficient time to operate the press and he contracted with Gottschalk to operate the press. Among the latter’s publications is the Frankfurt on the Oder Talmud (1693-99).[20]

The title-page has a decorative frame comprised of two cherubim blowing horns at the top, at the bottom an eagle with spread wings. Within the wings is a carriage and figures, and in the middle of this scenario is a depiction of the Patriarch Jacob meeting Joseph in Egypt.[21] The text of the title-page begins “[The] wise man, hearing them, will gain more wisdom (Lekah ha-tov) ישמע החכם ויוסף הלקח הטוב” (cf. Proverbs 1:5). The initial letters of the first four words in that phrase enlarged, spelling the Tetragrammaton.


1704, Frankfurt on the Oder, Eliezer Lipman ben Menahem Maneli
Courtesy of Hebrewbooks.org

The title-page is followed by several pages of approbations, from fourteen rabbis, two pages of material that had been omitted from the text, an introduction that begins “come and partake of my food and drink of the wine that I mixed” (Proverbs 9:5). Below it a listing of the section heads, the author’s apologia, his introduction, further apologia, and finally the text, set in a single column in rabbinic letters.

IV

Seven editions of Lekah Tov have been described in this article, representing editions of that work published in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, as well as one work published in 1704. Among them are two editions of Abraham Jagel’s popular Lekah Tov, that is a Hebrew and a bilingual Hebrew-Latin edition. These works are varied, beginning with a midrashic commentary on the Pentateuch and the Five Megillot; a commentary on the Torah with reasons for the mitzvot; a commentary on the book of Esther; a Hebrew-Judeo-German (Yiddish) glossary on the Prophets and Hagiographa; discourses and explanations of Talmudic aggadot and midrashim, and as already noted, two editions of Abraham Jagel’s popular Lekah Tov.

These works encompass Bible commentaries, a glossary, and a Jewish catechism. None of these works are polemic, but rather, in keeping with the verse from which the title is taken “For I give you good doctrine (lekah tov); do not forsake My Torah (Proverbs 4:2), they are intellectually challenging and inspiring. That authors, from disparate places, and perchance cultures chose this title for their works, is clear, for the books described in this article represent “good doctrine.”

[1] I would like to express my appreciation to Eli Genauer for reading this paper and his editorial; comments.
[2] Previous articles on the varied use of a single book titles by Marvin J. Heller are “Adderet Eliyahu; a Study in the Titling of Hebrew Books” in Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2008), pp. 72-91; and “Keter Shem Tov: A Study in the Entitling of Books, Here Limited to One Title Only,” http://seforim.blogspot.com, December 17, 2019 reprinted in Essays on the Making of the Early Hebrew Book, (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2021), pp. 85-111. Menahem Mendel Slatkine wrote a two- volume work, Shemot ha-Sefarim ha-Ivrim: Lefi Sugehem ha-Shonim, Tikhunatam u-Te’udatam (Neuchâtel-Tel Aviv, 1950-54) on book names, Abraham Berliner, Joshua Bloch, and Solomon Schechter wrote articles on the subject and there are encyclopedia entires on the subject.
[3] Shabbetai Bass, Siftei Yeshenim (Amsterdam, 1680), pp. 35-36 nos. 44-48; Ch. B. Friedberg, Bet Eked Sepharim, (Israel, n. d), lamed 745-54 [Hebrew]; Isaac Benjacob, Ozar ha-Sefarim (Vilna, 1880, reprint New York, n. d.), p. 17 nos. 329-37; Yeshayahu Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book. place, and year printed, name of printer, number of pages and format, with annotations and bibliographical references I (Jerusalem, 193-95), p. 71 [Hebrew].
[4] Isidore Singer, M. Seligsohn, “Tobiah ben Eliezer,” Jewish Encyclopedia v. 12 (New York, 1901-06), pp. 169-71.
[5] Mordechai, Margalioth, ed., Encyclopedia of Great Men in Israel II (Tel Aviv, 1986), cols. 565-69 [Hebrew]; Shmuel Teich, The Rishonim: biographical sketches of the prominent early rabbinic sages and leaders from the tenth-fifteenth centuries, ed. Hersh Goldwurm (Brooklyn, 1982), p. 186; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tobiah_ben_Eliezer#Lekach_Tov.
[6] C. B. Friedberg, History of Hebrew Typography in Italy, SpainPortugal, and Turkey (Tel Aviv, 1956), pp. 134, 144 (Hebrew).
[7] Avraham Yaari, Hebrew Printing at Constantinople (Jerusalem, 1967), pp. 117-18 no. 183 [Hebrew].
[8] Isaac Benjacob, Oẓar ha-Sefarim (Vilna, 1880; reprinted New York, 1965), p. 269 no. 380; Abraham David, “Najara,” Encyclopedia Judaica 14 (Jerusalem, ) pp. 760-61; M. Franco, “Moses Najara,” 9 Jewish Encyclopedia (New York, 1901-06), p. 151; Shimon Vanunu, Encyclopedia Arzei ha-Levanon. Encyclopedia le-Toldot Geonei ve-Ḥakhmei Yahadut Sefarad ve-ha-Mizraḥ III (Jerusalem, 2006), p. 1574 [Hebrew]. A possible solution to the misdating was suggested by R. Aharon Berman, who wrote in a private communication dated December 5, 2023, “I would guess that the words on the line after “me’eretz” indicate that we are counting the 4 letters of the word “me’eretz” as part of the date. That is 331 + 4 equals 335.”
[9] Concerning Eliezer ben Isaac Ashkenazi see Marvin J. Heller, “Early Hebrew Printing from Lublin to Safed: The Journeys of Eliezer ben Isaac Ashkenazi,” Jewish Culture and History 4:1 (London, summer, 2001), pp. 81-96, reprinted in Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Leiden/Boston, 2008), pp. 106-20.
[10] Hersch Goldwurm, The Early Acharonim: Biographical Sketches of the Prominent Early Rabbinic Sages and Leaders from the Fifteenth-Seventeenth Centuries (Brooklyn, 1989), pp. 127-28; Mordechai, Margalioth, ed., Encyclopedia of Great Men in Israel III (Tel Aviv, 1986), cols. 735-36 [Hebrew]; Abraham Yaari, Sheluhei Erez Yisrael (Jerusalem, 1951), pp. 236 [Hebrew]; Avraham Yaari, Sheluhei Erez Yisrael I (Jerusalem, 1951), pp. 238-40 [Hebrew];
[11] Concerning the widespread us of the temple device see Marvin J. Heller, “The Cover Design, ‘The Printer’s Mark of Marc Antonio Giustiniani and the Printing Houses that Utilized It,’” Library Quarterly, 71:3 (Chicago, July, 2001), pp. 383-89, reprinted in Studies, pp. 44-53; Avraham Yaari, Hebrew Printers’ Marks (Jerusalem, 1943), pp. 11 and 129-30 nos. 16-17 [Hebrew].
[12] Concerning the Di Gara press see A. M. Habermann, Giovanni di Gara: Printer, Venice 1564-1610. ed. Y. Yudlov (Jerusalem, 1982) [Hebrew].
[13] Morris M. Faierstone, “Abraham Jagel’s Leqah Tov and Its History,” The Jewish Quarterly Review LXXXIX (Philadelphia, 1999), pp. 319-50; David B. Ruderman, Kabbalah, Magic, and Science: the Cultural Universe of a Sixteenthcentury Jewish Physician (Cambridge, 1988), pp. 8-24, 158-68.
[14] Executive Committee of the Editorial Board, Aleander Kisch, “Moses Saerteles (Saertels) b. Issachar ha-Levi” J. E. 9, p. 92; Olga Sixtová, “The Beginnings of Prague Hebrew Typography 1512-1569,” in Hebrew Printing in Bohemia and Moravia, Ed. Olga Sixtová (Prague: Academia, 2012), pp. 67-68.
[15] “in ejus Glossario in Pent. etc. (Explicavit Moses), quod seorsim expressum et una cum textu (1604-5. etc.). [Incipit ut Paraphr. praecedens, sed in Ed. I. foll.12 absolvitur, sistitque Versionem verborum seu sententiarum una cum Expositionibus].” Moritz 2Steinschneider, Catalogus Liborium Hebraeorum in Bibliotheca Bodleiana (CB, Berlin, 1852-60), cols. 2428-29 no. 7038.
[16] Otto Muneles, Bibliographical survey of Jewish Prague: The Jewish State Museum of Prague (Prague, 1952), p. 29 no. 63-64.
[17] Concerning the early use of Vaybertaytsh see Herbert C. Zafren, “Variety in the Typography of Yiddish: 1535-1635,” Hebrew Union College Annual LIII (Cincinnati, 1982), pp. 137-63; idem, “Early Yiddish Typography,” Jewish Book Annual 44 (New York, 1986-87), pp. 106-119. In the former article, Zafren informs that the first book in which Yiddish was a segment was major was Mirkevet ha-Mishneh (Sefer shel R. Anshel), a concordance and glossary of the Bible (Cracow, 1534/35). In the latter article he suggests that the origin of Vaybertaytsh, which he refers to as Yiddish type, was the Ashkenaz rabbinic fonts, supplanted by the more widespread Sephardic rabbinic type which prevailed in Italy (p. 112).
[18] Morris M. Faierstone, op. cit.
[19] Charles Berlin and Aaron Katchen, eds. Christian Hebraism. The Study of Jewish Culture by Christian Scholars in Medieval and Early Modern Times (Cambridge, Ma., 1988), p. 44 no. 71; L. Fuks and R. G. FuksMansfeld, Hebrew Typography in the Northern Netherlands 1585 – 1815 (Leiden, 1984-87), II pp. 249 no. 283, 267-68 no. 332; Cecil Roth, Magna Bibliotheca Anglo-Judaica; a Bibliographical Guide to Anglo-Jewish History (London, 1937), pp. 329 no. 5, 428 no. 1.
[20] Concerning the see Gottschalk press and the Frankfurt on the Oder Talmud (1693-99) see Marvin J. Heller, Printing the Talmud: Complete Editions, Tractates, and Other Works and the Associated Presses from the Mid-17th Century through the 18th Century, (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2019), pp. 47-73
[21] Concerning the eagle motif on the title-page of Hebrew books see Marvin J. Heller “The Eagle Motif on 16th and 17th Century Hebrew Books,” Printing History, NS 17 (Syracuse, 2015), pp. 16-40, reprinted in Essays on the Making of the Early Hebrew Book, (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2021), pp. 5-29.




Marc B. Shapiro – Clarifications of Previous Posts

Clarifications of Previous Posts

by Marc B. Shapiro
[The footnote numbers reflects the fact this is a continuation of this earlier post.]

1. I was asked to expand a bit on how I know that R. Barukh Epstein’s story with Rayna Batya is contrived. In this story we see her great love of Torah study and her difficulty in accepting a woman’s role in Judaism. Certainly, she must have been a very special woman, and I assume that she was, for a woman, quite learned. When Mekor Barukh was published there were still plenty of people alive who had known her and it would have been impossible to entirely fabricate her personality. The same can be said about Epstein’s report of the Netziv reading newspapers on Shabbat. This is not the sort of thing that could be made up. Let’s not forget that the Netziv’s widow, son (R. Meir Bar-Ilan) and many other family members and close students were alive, and Epstein knew that they would not have permitted any improper portrayal. It is when recording private conversations that one must always be wary of what Epstein reports.

A good deal has been written about the Rayna Batya story, and Dr. Don Seeman has referred to it as “the only record which has been preserved of a woman’s daily interactions with her male interlocutor over several months.”[15] When challenged about the historical accuracy of Epstein’s recollections, Seeman replied “that there is no evidence to indicate that R. Epstein invented these episodes out of whole cloth.”[16]

I will therefore explain how I concluded that the story is fictional. Let’s begin with the well-attested fact that Epstein was a plagiarizer. My assumption is that when dealing with someone who is not a reputable scholar, one must be very suspicious of what he or she writes when there is no outside evidence to back it up. In fact, when the Torah Temimah first appeared, the editor of this work published a booklet, Sihah Temimah, accusing Epstein of fraudulent behavior.[17] Here are the first few pages of this booklet.
A central feature of his dialogue with Rayna Batya is her producing the book Ma’ayan Ganim by R. Samuel Archivolti. Here it states that mature women who have a desire to study Torah are to be encouraged (Mekor Barukh, p. 1962). Epstein, a young teenager, then attempts to refute her by arguing that the passage from Ma’ayan Ganim is not halakhic, but rather divrei melitzah. The whole dialogue, and in particular the part about her discovering the winning passage in Archivolti, is contrived and designed to lead the reader to sympathize with the fate of the poor woman.

In his Torah Temimah (Deut. ch. 11 n. 68) he cites the passage from Ma’ayan Ganim that as a teenager he supposedly argued against. Anyone reading Torah Temimah would assume that Ma’ayan Ganim is a regular halakhic work, as Epstein refers to it as She’elot u-Teshuvot.[18]

Although at the end of the passage he says that he doesn’t know who the author is, and that Tosafot Yom Tov calls him a grammarian, I believe that this is all part of the literary game he is playing. In other words, he wants to publicize Archivolti’s view, and then to “cover” himself cites Tosafot Yom Tov. In Mekor Barukh, after telling his story, he points out that Archivolti was also a great talmudist and that the only reason the Tosafot Yom Tov refers to him as a medakdek was because he was referring to him in his youth.[19]

Dan Rabinowitz, in his discussion of the issue, writes:

The entire famous Rayna Batya incident must now be called into serious question. Was Rayna Batya so ignorant as to confuse Ma’ayan Gannim with a legitimate book of halakha? How, then, do we reconcile this with her supposed profound learning? It cannot be that R. Epstein was unable to recognize the Ma’ayan Gannim for what it was, for he himself writes that he told his aunt of the true nature of Ma’ayan Gannim. But if he did know what it was, how is it that in his Torah Temima he refers to Ma’ayan Gannim as responsa—and yet in the same paragraph in the Torah Temima he seems to backtrack and wonder how it is that the Ma’ayan Gannim could innovate “new laws about women with reason alone?” The entire Rayna Batya episode is a highly problematic one, raising one perplexing question after another.[20]

As far as the first few questions are concerned, I can only say that the entire report of Rayna Batya discovering the relevant text in Ma’ayan Ganim was made up by Epstein. This book, which was published in Venice in 1553, is an extremely rare volume. There would have only been a few copies of this book in all of Lithuania. (In Torah Temimah Epstein also says that it is a rare book.) It is therefore impossible to imagine that the rebbetzin, sitting in Volozhin, would just so happen to come across this volume on her husband’s bookshelf. Of this, there can be no doubt, and I assumed that Epstein, who was a great bibliophile, later in life came across the book and in his desire to publicize its contents, created the dialogue with Rayna Batya.

Yet thanks to R. Yehoshua Mondshine’s recent article,[21] I see that I was mistaken in my assumption. The truth is that Epstein never even saw the book and thus did not know the true nature of Ma’ayan Ganim. He learnt of the relevant passage, which he places in Rayna Batya’s mouth, from an article that appeared in Ha-Tzefirah, 7 Tishrei, 5656. We see this from the fact that the Ha-Tzefirah quotation mistakenly omits some words, and the same words are omitted in Mekor Barukh. This shows that his knowledge of this book came in 1894 and that he never discussed it with Rayna Batya, who died many years prior to this.

Now that we know where Epstein copied the text from, we can see another element of the literary game he played. He cites Ma’ayan Ganim as follows:
ומאמר חכמינו כל המלמד את בתו תורה כאלו מלמדה תפלות אולי נאמר כשהאב מלמדה בקטנותה.
Yet in Ha-Tzefirah it states:
מאמר רבותינו ז”ל כל המלמד בתו תורה כאלו מלמדה תפלות אינה צריכה לפנים דאיתתא חזינא ותיובתא לא חזינא כי אפשר לחלק שחכמים ז”ל לא דברו אלא כשהאב מלמדה בקטנותה.
Leaving aside the words Epstein omits, he has substituted אולי for אפשר לחלק. In doing so he softened Archivolti’s point. Whereas Archivolti was stating that one can distinguish between teaching a grown woman and a small girl, Epstein has Archivolti prefacing this idea with “perhaps”. I think this is part of Epstein’s confusing game. He wants to bring this view to the public’s attention, but he doesn’t want to come off as too radical. In fact, this אולי, which is his own creation, assumes a life of its own. Thus, in his letter to R. Hayyim Hirschensohn (Malki ba-Kodesh, vol. 6, p. 47), criticizing the latter’s view of teaching women Torah, Epstein writes:

צר לי כי לא אוכל להסכים עמו בזה הן הוא (הרש”ק בעל המכתב הידוע) אינו בטוח בעצמו בדבריו אלה, כנראה מלשונו שכתב “ומאמר חכמינו כל המלמד את בתו תורה וכו’ ‘אולי’ נאמר כשהאב מלמדה בקטנותה” וכו’ ועתה הגע עצמך האם בסברא “פן ואולי” אפשר להתיר מה שנאמר בגמרא מפורש לאיסור. כך דעתי בזה.

In other words, Epstein invents the word אולי and inserts it into Archivolti’s letter, and then he uses this to criticize Hirschensohn! The chutzpah on Epstein’s part is astonishing, but as I see it this is all part of his game.

No one who has discussed Epstein and Rayna Batya was aware of his letter to Hirschensohn, so they could not point out the following obvious fact: When one looks at Mekor Barukh, which was published after his letter to Hirschensohn, one finds him telling Rayna Batya the exact same thing. It is obvious that he uses the language in his letter to Hirschensohn to create the following reply to Rayna Batya, that supposedly occurred some fifty years prior.
והן המחבר בעצמו כמו ‘מודה במקצת’ בזה, באמרו: ‘ומאמר חכמינו’ כל המלמד את בתו תורה כאלו מלמדה תפלות ‘אולי נאמר כשמלמדה בקטנותה’; הרי שבעצמו אינו בטוח בדבריו, וכהוראת הלשון ‘אולי’ ולא ב”אולי” ולא ב”פן” מתירים מה שנאמר מפורש בתלמוד.
(It is possible that I am wrong in assuming that it was his positive view towards women studying Torah which explains why he created the story and cited Ma’ayan Ganim. Perhaps he was simply attempting to create a good story, or even some controversy, and that explains why he seems to be on both sides of the issue, as Dan Rabinowitz points out in the passage cited above.)

Here are the relevant pages in Ma’ayan Ganim, Ha-Tzefirah, Mekor Barukh, and Torah Temimah.
I know that there are people who are very upset at me, believing that I have given ammunition to those who chose to censor and withdraw My Uncle the Netziv. I make no apologies. We must combat falsehoods and plagiarism no matter where they emanate from. If, in the process, some of our own sacred cows are slaughtered, that is the price we must pay.

Returning to Mondshine, he is most concerned with the supposed dialogue between Epstein’s father, R. Yehiel Michel (the author of the Arukh ha-Shulhan), and the Tzemach Tzedek, R. Menachem Mendel Schneersohn. He sees it as an opportunity for Epstein to put all sorts of ideas, including criticisms of Hasidism, into the mouth of the great hasidic leader, something that if he did on his own would have brought down storms of criticism upon him. For example, he has the Tzemach Tzedek say that the hasidim have to be grateful for the opposition of the Vilna Gaon. Had it not been for the great dispute about Hasidism, and the Gaon’s strident opposition, the new movement might have led its followers out of the ranks of halakhic Judaism. (p. 1237). This idea was expressed by R. Kook (Ma’amrei ha-Re’iyah, p. 7) and was probably a common non-hasidic notion. But it is impossible to think that the Tzemach Tzedek would have ever expressed himself this way.

At the time that R. Yehiel Michel is said to have had his conversations with the Tzemach Tzedek, he was the rav of the Habad town Novozypkov.[22] In later years R. Abraham Chen and R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin served as rabbis of the town.[23] I know about this place because my grandmother’s second husband (who was like a grandfather to me) was from there. In fact, during World War One word came to the town that a certain group of Jews was being moved and would be passing through, and that among them was an outstanding young scholar named Shlomo Yosef Zevin. The townspeople came up with the necessary money to remove him from the group. He was chosen as the town’s rabbi and lived in my step-grandfather’s house for about six months. I read somewhere that the townspeople were followers of Kopys/Bobruisk, rather than Lubavitch. As R. Zevin was himself a Bobruisker, this would make sense. R. Yehiel Michel was himself born in Bobruisk, as was his son R. Baruch.

I always tell this story to Habad people in order to impress them with my yichus, that the great R. Zevin lived in my family’s house. Yet on two separate occasions after I told the story to young Habad shluchim, they replied, “Who is Rav Zevin?” It is also very rare to find a young Habadnik who has even heard of Kopust/Bobruisk. Yet without knowing about this it is impossible to understand how R. Zevin could have been a Zionist when the Lubavitcher rebbes were all anti-Zionist. After all, who ever heard of a hasid not following his Rebbe? The answer is that all Lubavitchers were Habad, but not all adherents of Habad were Lubavitch. The ignorance among some in Habad of their own movement probably shouldn’t surprise me, as I have met many hasidim who don’t have a clue about the history of the hasidic movement. And of course, how many Modern Orthodox know the first thing about Hirsch and Hildesheimer?

Mondshine assumes that one of the purposes of Epstein’s stories about his father and the Tzemach Tzedek is to build up his father’s halakhic reputation. His pesakim were subject to attack as being too liberal, and certainly in the hasidic world he was not accepted. In the Lithuanian world he was a much more important posek, and R. Joseph Elijah Henkin stated that in a dispute between the Mishneh Berurah and the Arukh ha-Shulhan, the Arukh ha-Shulhan is to be preferred.[24]

Yet many did not share R. Henkin’s viewpoint. A number of years ago I saw in one of R. Yitzhak Ratsaby’s books that he heard from some gedolim that one should not rely on the Arukh ha-Shulhan. I wrote to him objecting to this lack of respect for the Arukh ha-Shulhan, and also expressing my near certainty that the gedolim he referred to must have been Hungarian, for the Hungarian poskim never accepted the Arukh ha-Shulhan as an authoritative work. On Nov. 22, 1990, Ratsaby wrote to me:
בענין הגאון בעל ערוך השולחן, דוקא הדברים נובעים מליטא, והנני מפרש, הגר”י כהנמן זצ”ל מפוניביז’ (כמדומני שלמד בעצמו יחד עם הערוה”ש) והגר”ח גרינמן שליט”א בן אחותו של החזו”א. זכורני אמנם באגרות משה במקום אחד כתב על ערוה”ש כבר הורה זקן, ובמקום אחר דוחה דבריו. נראה לענ”ד אמנם שבעל ערוה”ש מחדש הרבה סברות ובזה כחו גדול, מאידך בעל משנ”ב מעמיק בעיון היטב הדק. והאמת ניתנה להיאמר שבהרבה מקומות בערוה”ש ראיתי דברים מתמיהים והיפך כוונת הדברים, וכבר הערתי עליו בדרך כלל במקומות שעסקתי בהם בחבורי הנדפסים. ופוק חזי שבישיבות לומדים בקביעות ההלכה מספר משנ”ב, וגם כמעט אין בית היום אשר אין שם משנ”ב. והחזו”א אעפ”י שחולק בהרבה מקומות על המשנ”ב, מ”מ החשיב אותו כהוראה מפי הסנהדרין ומנה אותו בנשימה אחת עם מרן הב”י והמג”א.
(Ratsaby’s recollection is correct. In Iggerot Moshe, Orah Hayyim vol. 1 no. 39, which is his famous responsum on the proper height of a mehitzah, R. Moshe quotes the Arukh ha-Shulhan and uses the expression כבר הורה זקן. Regarding R. Joseph Kahaneman, he actually received semikhah from R. Yehiel Michel.)

The reputation of the Arukh ha-Shulhan has today fallen to such an extent that in a recent publication of the work the rulings of the Mishneh Berurah are included as well. The message of this is that while the Arukh ha-Shulhan is a Torah volume that should be studied, in terms of practical pesak it is the Mishnah Berurah that must be followed. See here for an earlier discussion at the Seforim blog of the recent reprint of the Arukh ha-Shulhan.

2. I was asked if there are any medieval poems in which there is explicit homosexuality. I am unaware of any, and it is precisely because they are ambiguous that there has been controversy about their meanings. This poem by Moses Ibn Ezra is as explicit as I could find
תאות לבבי ומחמד עיני

עופר לצדי וכוס בימיני

רבו מריבי ולא אשמעם

בוא הצבי, ואני אכניעם

וזמן יכלם ומות ירעם

בוא, הצבי, קום והבריאני

מצוף שפתך והשביעני

למה יניאון לבבי, למה

אם בעבור חטא ובגלל אשמה

אשגה ביפיך אד-ני שמה

אל יט לבבך בניב מענני

איש מעקשים, ובוא נסני

נפתה, וקמנו אלי בית אמו

ויט לעול סבלי את שכמו

לילה ויומם אני רק עמו

אפשט בגדיו ויפשיטני

אינק שפתיו וייניקני

כאשר לבבי בעיניו נפקד

גם עול פשעי בידו נשקד

דרש תנואות ואפו פקד

צעק באף, רב לך, עזבני

אל תהדפני ואל תתעני

אל תנף בי, צבי, עד כלה

הפלא רצונך, ידידי, הפלא

ונשק ידידך וחפצו מלא

אם יש בנפשך חיות, חיני

או חפצך להרג, הרגני

Desire of my heart and delight of my eyes –

A fawn beside me and a cup in my hand!

Many admonish me, but I do not heed;

Come, O gazelle, and I will subdue them. Time will destroy them and death shepherd them. Come, O gazelle, rise and feed me With the honey of your lips, and satisfy me.
Why do they hold back my heart, why? If because of sin and guilt, I will be ravished by your beauty – God is there! Pay no attention to the words of my oppressor, A perverse man – come and try me!
He was enticed and we went up to his mother’s house, And he gave his shoulder to my burden. Night and day I was only with him. I undressed him, and he undressed me; I sucked his lips and he sucked mine.
When I left my heart as a pledge in his eyes, The burden of my guilt was also weighted in his hand. He sought enmity, and inflicted his anger, And angrily cried, “Enough; leave me! Do not force me, and do not entice me.”
Do not be angry with me, gazelle, to destruction – Extraordinary is your will, my dear, extraordinary! Kiss your beloved and fulfill his desire. If it is in your soul to give life, revive me – Or if your desire is to kill, kill me![25]

3. When dealing with problematic texts of recent times, the preferred approach is simply to censor them. But with the medievals, there is a simpler method: Say that the text was written by a mistaken student, or even worse, by someone interested in undermining Judaism. In a previous post I mentioned that R. Joseph Zvi Duenner even stated so with regard to the Talmud itself.[26]

Since in modern times we don’t generally have students copying their master’s handwritten texts, the first approach doesn’t make much sense. Yet in a previous post at the Seforim blog,[27] I noted that R. Menasheh Klein used this very argument with regard to R. Moshe Feinstein, even though he was dealing with a responsum published in R. Moshe’s own lifetime. I found another example where Klein uses this exact same approach. He saw something in one of the Steipler’s books, but since it didn’t make sense to him, Klein wrote to the Steipler as follows (Mishneh Halakhot, vol. 7, p. 142a):
היות כי אני מכיר את מעכ”ק וצדקתו נגמר בדעתי שבודאי לא יצאו דברים מפי כ”ק או שיש שם איזה טעות בדפוס מהבחור הזעצער וטעה מעתיק ולא שם על לב כ”ק.
However, here I don’t think Klein should be taken literally. I believe this was just his respectful way of saying that the Steipler was wrong. This is not the case with regard to R. Ovadiah Yosef when he writes that one cannot rely on the responsa in R. Ben Zion Abba Shaul’s Or le-Tziyon, vol. 2.[28] Even though R. Ben Zion was alive, R. Ovadiah claimed that he was powerless to stop his students from taking liberties with the book: הוסיפו וגרעו כפי שעלה בדעתם, וסברו שכן דעת רבם. Not surprisingly, one of R. Ben Zion’s students responded very strongly to this statement.[29]

Prof. Yaakov Spiegel, in his book Amudim be-Toldot ha-Sefer ha-Ivri: Ketivah ve-Ha’atakah, pp. 244ff., discusses the phenomenon of denying the authenticity of responsa. Sometimes the strategy used to reject a responsum is to attribute it to an “erring student.” While on occasion there are scholarly reasons for this assumption, it is almost always the case that the author simply cannot accept that an earlier authority said something. Usually this has to do with halakhah, but there are plenty of examples in theology. For example, R. Issachar Baer Eylenburg assumes that while resurrection is a principle of faith, one is not obligated to believe that this doctrine is found in the Torah. As he puts it (Be’er Sheva to Sanhedrin 90a).
מי שמודה ומאמין על פי הקבלה בתחית המתים אע”פ שהוא אומר דלא רמיזא באורייתא אין ראוי לקראו כופר חלילה ויש לו חלק לעוה”ב.
Although the Mishnah, Sanhedrin 10:1, includes the point that one must believe that resurrection is found in the Torah, Eylenburg assumes that this is a textual error, and indeed, Rambam never mentions this. However, Rashi had this text and explains:
שכופר במדרשים דדרשינן בגמרא לקמן מנין לתחיית המתים מן התורה ואפילו יהא מודה ומאמין שיחיו המתים אלא דלא רמיזא באורייתא כופר הוא הואיל ועוקר שיש תחיית המתים מן התורה מה לנו ולאמונתו וכי מהיכן הוא יודע שכן הוא הלכך כופר גמור הוא.
Eylenberg didn’t like what Rashi said, i.e., it didn’t make sense to him, so he concluded:
לפי דעתי לא יצאו דברים אלו מפה קדוש רש”י אלא איזה תלמיד טועה פירש כן בגליון ונכתב בפנים.
Eylenberg would have been happy to learn what we now know, namely, that the commentary to Perek Helek is, in large measure, not really by Rashi.

I found another example of this in a book that just appeared, R. Menasheh Matloub Sutton’s Mateh Menasheh. (Sutton, who died in 1876, was the rav of Safed.) The second part of the book is a reprint of Sutton’s earlier published Kenesiah le-Shem Shamayim. This work is devoted to a superstitious practice whereby women would burn incense to demons and this was thought to be a help to people who were in various states of distress (e.g., sick, barren, etc.) He includes letters from many great rabbis who agree with him that this is a form of avodah zarah. The problem he has, which he confronts in ch. 2, is that one of the rishonim, R. Isaiah ben Elijah of Trani, is quoted by R. Hayyim Benveniste as follows:
ונראה בעיני המתוק שעושים הנשים מדבש וחלב לרפואה, וכן העישון שמעשנים מותר, שלא חייבה תורה בבעל אוב אע”פ שמקטר לשד אלא מפני שמעלה המת, וכן מעשה כשפים לא נאסרו אלא כשעושים מעשה או כשאוחזים את העיניים כמ”ש, אבל בעישון ומתוק אין בהם כל אלה, וגם אין בהם משום חובר חבר שאינם מתכונים לחבר השדים אלא לרצותם על רפואת החולה ושלא יזיקוהו.
Now it is certainly possible for Sutton to reject R. Isaiah, but it becomes very hard to label the practice as nothing less than idolatry when an outstanding rishon justified it and this rishon is also quoted by Benveniste and the Shiltei Giborim. What to do in such a case? Sutton adopts the tried and true method of declaring that since the position is (in his mind) so objectionable, R. Isaiah could never have said such a thing. It must originate with the “mistaken student” who often makes his appearance when a strange opinion is confronted.
אמינא בקושטא דמלתא כד ניים ושכיב רב אמרה להא שמעתא ועל הרוב שלא יצאו דברים הללו מתחת ידו וקולמוסו אלא שאיזה תלמיד טועה כתבם בגליון קונטריסו והרב שלטי הגבורים אגב ריהטא העתיקם בשמו ובחושבו דתורה דיליה היא מוצאת מעמו ולא פנה לעיין בעיקר הדין נמוקו וטעמו.
Sutton’s book was put out by one of his descendants, Rabbi Harold Sutton, who was a student in the late and much lamented Beit Midrash le-Torah (BMT) together with me. He later went on to become a student of R. Ovadiah Yosef, whose haskamah (together with that of R. Meir Mazuz) adorns the book.

Harold Sutton should not be confused with another young Syrian rabbi, David Sutton. The latter is the author of the ArtScroll book Aleppo: City of Scholars (and from the introduction I learned that he is a son-in-law of R. Nosson Scherman). Zvi Zohar has recently written a very sharp critique of this book. See here.

David Sutton is also the one who delivered the much-talked about lecture “We Believe in Midrashim.” This lecture is the subject of a very harsh attack by Roni Choueka in Hakirah 4 (2007). Choueka sees Sutton’s lecture as a bizayon ha-Torah of the worst sort. When listening to it I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. How else is one to respond when one hears a rabbi claim that the fossils are remnants of the giant pets that belonged to Og, who was 800 feet tall and lifted up a stone the size of Manhattan, or that the polar bears came to Egypt complete with their blocks of snow in order to devour the Egyptian children?

Incidentally, in speaking of the Aggadah which describes the great height of Og, the Rashba (commentary to Berakhot 54b) notes that although there is a deep meaning conveyed in this Aggadah, the form in which it is expressed also had a very practical application:
לעתים היו החכמים דורשים ברבים ומאריכים בדברי תועלת והיו העם ישנים, וכדי לעוררם היו אומרים להם דברים זרים לבהלם ושיתעוררו משנתם.
In other words, in order to prevent people from dozing off, the Aggadist would convey his message with outlandish statements. R. Zvi Hirsch Chajes elaborates on this in his Introduction to the Talmud, ch. 26.

4. I have to thank those who have written to me calling my attention to things I did not know. I hope to acknowledge all of you at the proper time. However, many people who send me things have misinterpreted the sources (or the sources they send have been in error).

In the forward of H. Norman Strickman and Arthur M. Silver’s translation of Ibn Ezra to Deuteronomy, p. xiv, the following appears:

It should also be noted that I.E. [Ibn Ezra] was not the only medieval rabbi who believed that there are some glosses or slight changes in the text of the Torah. Thus Rabbi David Kimchi (c. 1160-1235) notes that the word Dan in Gen. 14:14 is post-Mosaic. He argues that the original reading of Gen. 14:14 was “and pursued as far as Leshem.” Rabbi Kimchi maintains that after the tribe of Dan conquered the city of Leshem and changed its name to Dan (Josh. 19:47), the reading of Gen. 14:14 was changed to read “and pursued as far as Dan” as in our texts of Scripture (Radak on Gen. 14:14).

The mention of “Dan” in Gen. 14:14 is used by all critical biblical scholars to prove that the verse must be post-Mosaic. The reason is that since the city would only be conquered in the days of Joshua, and only then be given the name Dan, how could the Torah refer to it this way? Even M. H. Segal, the strong defender of Mosaic authorship, acknowledges the problem. Unlike other scholars he assumes that the verse as a whole is Mosaic. But he also believes that the name “Dan” is a “modernized substitute for the antiquated names Laish or Leshem (Jud. viii, 29, Jos. xix, 47) which stood in the original.”[30]

Yet I was skeptical of what Strickman and Silver wrote as I was aware of Radak’s introduction to his Torah commentary where he is emphatic that the entire Torah is of Mosaic authorship.[31] I looked up Radak to Gen. 14:14 and saw that my skepticism was warranted. Here are Radak’s words:
וירדף עד דן: על שם סופו, כי כשכתב משה רבינו זה לא נקרא עדיין כן, אלא לשם היה נקרא וכשכבשוהו בני דן קראו לו דן בשם דן אביהם.
All Radak says is that the Torah refers to the place as Dan in anticipation of what it will be called in the future. Radak says nothing about the original reading of the Torah being “Leshem” and nothing about the text being changed after Leshem was conquered. As such, Radak cannot be added to the list of those who believe that there are post-Mosaic additions in the Torah.

5. In response to my earlier post at the Seforim blog discussing the meaning of ס”ט, Rabbi Yitzhak Oratz called my attention to Kitvei Ha-Arukh ha-Shulhan, pp. 50-51. In an 1892 letter from R. Yehiel Michel Epstein to R. Hayyim Hezekiah Medini, the author of the Sedei Hemed, we see that R. Yehiel Michel doesn’t know what the acronym stands for, as he writes חכם חיים חזקיאו [!] ס”ט הי”ו. Since the last two acronyms basically mean the same thing one would not put them next to each other, and he must have assumed that the first one meant sefaradi tahor. Yet by 1896 he had learned what it meant and he addresses the Sedei Hemed as מוהר”ר חכם חיים חזקיאו מודיני סופ”י טב טבא הוא וטבא ליהוי.

This is a rare example of an Ashkenazi who knows what the acronym means. For those who have not yet been convinced there is not much more I can say other than that there is a living tradition among the Sephardic scholars for hundreds of years now as to the proper meaning. This is certainly authoritative. Let me also call attention to the end of the introduction of the Peri Hadash on Yoreh Deah (found in the new Machon Yerushalayim edition). He signs his name as follows: חזקיה בן לא”א איש צדיק תמים היה בדורותיו דוד די סילוה נ”ע סופיה טב טבא הוא וטבא להוי אמן.
Also, see R. Yehudah ben Attar’s haskamah to R. Hayyim Ben Attar’s Hefetz Hashem (Amsterdam, 1732). R. Yehudah signs his own name סיל”ט. It is obvious that this is an alteration of ס”ט and means סופיה יהא לטב. 6. Some want to know if any of the letters Chaim Bloch published in Dovev Siftei Yeshenim are authentic. I haven’t carefully investigated every letter, so it is possible that a couple of them are also found in other books. If that is the case, then Bloch included them simply to give the work as a whole a sense of authenticity. There is, however, no doubt that everything that appears for the first time in the work is, in its entirety, a creation of Bloch. Interestingly, when Bloch sent the first volume to the Lubavitcher Rebbe, the Rebbe immediately recognized that the letters from the Rogochover were forged. He wrote to Bloch (Iggerot Kodesh, vol. 19, p. 69):
כן מאשר הנני קבלת הס’ “דובב שפתי ישנים”. ולאחרי בקשת סליחתו נצטערתי על שצויין על כמה מכ’ שהם להגאון הרגצובי – וכל הרגיל בסגנונו יראה תיכף שאינו . . .
The three dots are from the publisher, and I would be very interested to know what was taken out.

Bloch wrote to the Rebbe to defend his publication and the Rebbe responded very strongly. He tells Bloch that originally he thought that it was an innocent error or perhaps someone had misled Bloch as to the Rogochover’s letters. It now surprises him that Bloch continues to earnestly defend their authenticity. The Rebbe is so convinced that they are forgeries that he writes (Iggerot Kodesh, vol. 19, p. 159):

שבאם היתה מציאות, שיבוא הרגצובי ויעיד שהוא כתב המכתבים לא יאמינו לו ולא ישמעו לקולו

I assume that the Rebbe didn’t know that Bloch forged the letters himself, or that the rest of the collection was also forged. If he did know this, then I don’t think he would have been so polite to Bloch. He either wouldn’t have engaged in correspondence with him, or he would have told him that he is a liar and a scoundrel. Instead, after explaining why the Rogochover couldn’t have written the letters, the Rebbe concludes:
ואתו הסליחה על ביטוים אלו, שאולי אינם דיפלומטים ביותר.
One certainly doesn’t need to speak “diplomatically” to frauds, so I would assume that the Rebbe wasn’t aware of the extent of Bloch’s deception.

While on the topic of Bloch (who was previously mentioned at the Seforim blog [32]) I should note that his last Hebrew publication was Ve-Hayah Mahanekha Kadosh (New York 1965), which is directed against R. Moshe Feinstein’s permission for a married woman to be artificially inseminated from a non-Jewish donor. Bloch also wrote to R. Moshe about this, harshly rebuking him for this ruling. R. Moshe’s response (Iggerot Moshe, Even ha-Ezer vol. 2 no. 11) includes the following, which became one of the most famous passages in the Iggerot Moshe:
הנה קבלתי מכתבו הארוך מאד המלא דברי תוכחה על כל גדותיו על מה שלפי דעתו נדמה לו שתשובותי סימן י’ וסימן ע”א מספרי אגרות משה על אה”ע יגרמו איזה פרצה בטהרת וקדושת יחוס כלל ישראל. וניכר ממכתב כתר”ה שהיה סבור שיהיה לי קפידא על דברי התוכחה שלו, ואני אדרבה אני נרגש מזה שאני רואה שנמצאים אנשים בעלי רוח שאינם יראים ולא מתביישים מלומר תוכחה. אבל האמת שאין בדברים שכתבתי ושהוריתי שום דבר שיגרום ח”ו איזה חלול בטהרת וקדושת ישראל אלא תורת אמת מדברי רבותינו הראשונים, והערעור של כתר”ה על זה בא מהשקפות שבאים מידיעת דעות חיצוניות שמבלי משים משפיעים אף על גדולים בחכמה להבין מצות השי”ת בתוה”ק לפי אותן הדעות הנכזבות אשר מזה מתהפכים ח”ו האסור למותר והמותר לאסור וכמגלה פנים בתורה שלא כהלכה הוא, שיש בזה קפידא גדולה אף בדברים שהוא להחמיר כידוע מהדברים שהצדוקים מחמירים שעשו כמה תקנות להוציא מלבן. ואני ב”ה שאיני לא מהם ולא מהמונם וכל השקפתי הוא רק מידיעת התורה בלי שום תערובות מידיעות חיצוניות, שמשפטיה אמת בין שהוא להחמיר בין שהוא להקל. ואין הטעמים מהשקפות חיצוניות וסברות בדויות מהלב כלום אף אם להחמיר ולדמיון שהוא ליותר טהרה וקדושה.
7. Since I mentioned some stories from Halakhic Man that show that the Rav did not have a Modern Orthodox ethos, I will also say something about the following story, which some have wondered about.

Once my father entered the synagogue on Rosh Ha-Shanah, late in the afternoon, after the regular prayers were over, and found me reciting Psalms with the congregation. He took away my Psalm book and handed me a copy of the tractate Rosh Ha-Shanah. “If you wish to serve the Creator at this moment, better study the laws pertaining to the Festival.”

I understand that some people are very troubled by this story, as it bespeaks a real intellectual elitism. Yet, to use an expression popular among the younger generation, I can only say “get over it” (or become an adherent of one of the non-intellectual branches of Hasidism). For better or worse, traditional Judaism has always been a fundamentally elitist religion, dividing the haves (i.e., those who have knowledge) from the have-nots. (Although today we are accustomed to think in terms of bringing Torah study to all, in a future post at the Seforim blog I hope to mention some sources that speak of the danger of allowing the ignorant access to Torah knowledge.) Precisely because we have a notion of ein am ha-aretz hasid we can understand why, in contrast to Christianity, we don’t have women “saints” in our history. Since women have (until recent times) been kept ignorant of Talmud and halakhah, there was no way they could achieve any renown in the area of saintliness.

Regarding the passage from Halakhic Man quoted above, the Rav himself makes reference to R. Chaim of Volozhin’s Nefesh ha-Hayyim, and the ideology of that book is the basis for the Soloveitchik approach. In Nefesh ha-Hayyim 4:2 R. Chaim writes
הרי שהעסק בהלכות הש”ס בעיון ויגיעה הוא ענין יותר נעלה ואהוב לפניו יתברך מאמירת תהלים.
Yet I must also note that one needn’t be a Litvak to have this approach. Here is what R. Eliezer Papo writes (Pele Yoetz, s. v. yediah):
וכבר כתבו הפוסקים שמי שיוכל לפלפל בחכמה ולקנות ידיעה חדשה ומוציא הזמן בלימוד תהלים וזוהר וכדומה לגבי דידיה חשיב בטול תורה.
8. Many people have written to me about Ibn Ezra and post-Mosaic verses, a subject I dealt with in The Limits of Orthodox Theology. Let me therefore point out something in this regard that appears in One People, Two Worlds by Yosef Reinman and Ammiel Hirsch. As I am sure everyone recalls, this was the joint work by the Orthodox Reinman and the Reform Hirsch. What made this so significant is that Reinman is from Lakewood and never before had anyone from that community engaged in such a religious dialogue. The response was fast and furious, and here are the first three pages and the last page of an anonymous attack on him that appeared in Lakewood. In fact, One People, Two Worlds is much worse – or much better, depending on your outlook – than anything done in this area by the Modern Orthodox. The Modern Orthodox who were part of organizations like the Synagogue Council of America and the N.Y. Board of Rabbis never engaged in interdenominational theological dialogue on an equal footing the way Reinman does. Furthermore, it is shocking that a haredi would have co-authored this book for another reason: What will happen if someone reads the book and is more convinced by the Reform rabbi? One would think that this would make the book a possible stumbling block.

I have not read the book cover-to-cover, yet the word on the street is that the debate is pretty one-sided as the Reform rabbi is out of his league. But in glancing through the book I found that in one area it is actually the Reform rabbi who is correct. On p. 16 Hirsch refers to Ibn Ezra’s commentary to Gen. 12:6 and states that Ibn Ezra’s “secret” is a hint to his belief that the verse is post-Mosaic. On pp. 23-24 Reinman writes:

I do not understand how you can represent Ibn Ezra, the illustrious Orthodox commentator, as a closet Reformer. I personally have no idea of the nature of Ibn Ezra’s secret; he has successfully concealed it from me. But be that as it may, how can you ascribe non-Orthodox beliefs to Ibn Ezra? What about all the thousands of pages of solid Orthodox commentary he wrote? Don’t they stand for anything? You obviously need to connect to the time-hallowed texts, but you are grasping at the wind.

They go over this issue a couple of more times and Reinman’s responses are similarly dogmatic. Had Hirsch read my article on the Thirteen Principles (my book hadn’t yet appeared) he could have pointed out that plenty of “Orthodox” commentators and scholars have read Ibn Ezra exactly as Hirsch explained. In other words, it was incorrect for Reinman to respond as if Hirsch was asserting an outrageous canard against an “illustrious Orthodox commentator.”

When I saw this I asked a friend, who studied in Lakewood for many years, if is it possible that Reinman, who has been learning Torah for many decades, is completely ignorant about something that every YU student who takes Intro. to Bible learns in the first few weeks. His reply was that this is exactly the case, and that until he started reading works outside of the typical yeshiva curriculum he too never heard about an issue with Ibn Ezra and post-Mosaic additions. In fact, I would assume that R. Moshe Feinstein also never heard of it, and in his attack on the commentary of R. Yehudah he-Hasid he ironically cites Ibn Ezra condemnation of Yitzchaki’s biblical criticism. (Why Ibn Ezra would condemn Yitzchaki for suggesting that some verses are post-Mosaic, when he does that himself, is explained by R. Joseph Bonfils in his Tzafnat Paneah: Ibn Ezra was willing to accept individual verses as being post-Mosaic but not entire sections, which is what Yitzchaki is referring to. Thus, there is no Documentary Hypothesis in Ibn Ezra’s writings.)

This phenomenon, of great scholars not being aware of things that most people reading the Seforim blog learned years ago, should not surprise us. The traditional yeshiva curriculum is very narrow, and you can spend your life in a yeshiva and unless motivated to expand your horizons, will have no knowledge of entire areas of Jewish thought and history. A good example[33] is seen in this announcement by Agudas ha-Rabbonim, which appeared in Ha-Pardes, November 1975. Yet the beautiful saying which the learned rabbis assume was stated by Hazal was actually stated by Ahad ha-Am, and is perhaps his most famous saying (although the concept can be found in traditional sources, see Taz, Orah Hayyim 267:1)[34] However, for one whose only Jewish knowledge comes from the yeshiva, this information would be unknown, and it is easy to see how such a statement (“more than the Jews have kept the Sabbath the Sabbath has kept the Jews”) could “infiltrate” this closed world and become just another ma’amar hazal.[35] It reminds me of how when I was a kid and my friends and I went to Boro Park for Shabbatons we would have been able to hum niggunim which came from popular songs and commercials, and our hosts wouldn’t have known a thing. At the Rutgers Chabad house in the 1980’s they even had a niggun to the tune of the theme song for Bumble Bee tuna. For those too young to remember it, see it here.

Of course, Ahad ha-Am’s statement is sound Jewish doctrine, as should be expected from one who had a hasidic upbringing (he was born in Skvira). I don’t even think that the saying was original to him. Rather, he was repeating a hasidic idea that he heard in his youth. I say this because Rabbi Uri Topolosky – who is currently rebuilding Orthodox life in New Orleans[36] – called my attention to the following passage in the Sefat Emet to parashat Ki Tisa (from 1873; p. 198 in the standard edition):
ואך את שבתותי כו’ פי’ שלא להיות רצון ותשוקה לדבר אחר בעולם, רק להשי”ת שהוא שורש חיות האדם שתתדבק בו בשבת קודש . . . גם מה שמירה שייך לשבת אדרבה שבת שומר אותנו.
NOTES:
[15] “The Silence of Rayna Batya: Torah, Suffering, and Rabbi Barukh Epstein’s ‘Wisdom of Women.'” Torah u-Madda Journal 6 (1996): 127, n. 62.
[16] Torah u-Madda Journal 7 (1997): 197. Since I mention the fine scholar Don Seeman, let me also call attention to his article “Ethnographers, Rabbis, and Jewish Epistemology: The Case of the Ethiopian Jews,” Tradition 25 (1991): 13-29. In this article he deals with the issue I touched on in two earlier posts, namely, does “halakhic truth” need to correspond to what academics regard as “scholarly truth.”
[17] I thank Eliezer Brodt for calling it to my attention (it is not mentioned in Beit Eked Sefarim). Subsequently, I saw that it is mentioned by Yaakov Bazak, “Al Derekh Ketivat ‘Torah Temimah,’” Sinai 66 (1969): 97.
[18] Thus, R. Moshe Meiselman could write: “In the volume of responsa, Maayan Ganim, the author not only permits motivated women to study the Torah but praises them and urges his audience to encourage them in their work.” See Jewish Woman in Jewsh Law (New York, 1978), 38.
[19] R. Menahem Kirschbaum, Tziyun li-Menahem (New York, 1968), 263, points out that contrary to what Epstein states, Tosafot Tom Tov referred to him as a grammarian when Archivolti was quite old.
[20] Rayna Batya and other Learned Women: A Reevaluation of Rabbi Barukh Halevi Epstein’s Sources,” Tradition 35 (2001): 61.
[21] See here
[22] See Kitvei ha-Arukh ha-Shulhan, part 2, p. 142, where he addresses someone as נכד איש אלקים גדול בעל התניא זי”ע ועל כל ישראל אמן. [23] See ibid., p. 154, for R Yehiel Michel’s 1906 letter of recommendation for R. Zevin. [24] See R. Yehudah Herzl Henkin, Beni Vanim, vol. 2, no. 8. In the introduction to Kitvei ha-Arukh ha-Shulhan one finds the following:
על מעמדו של הערוך השולחן כרבן של ישראל ופוסק הדור [שיש הסוברים שהוא הראשון במעלה ואחרון בזמן והלכה כמותו בכל מקום. עי’ בני בנים] אין כאן המקום להרחיב. What kind of reference is this? Most readers won’t even know what Bnei Vanim is. Why is the author, the volume, and page number not given? Why is R. Joseph Elijah Henkin’s name not mentioned? Furthermore, R. Henkin never said that the halakhah is always in accord with the Arukh ha-Shulhan. (Let’s not forget, the Arukh ha-Shulhan thought you could use electricity on Yom Tov.). His comment dealt only with the Arukh ha-Shulhan vs. the Mishneh Berurah.

For Eliezer Brodt’s review of this work, see here.

I have only skimmed part 2 of this important volume, but since it will probably be reprinted, let me make a few corrections and one addition.The transcription of R. Yehiel Michel’s handwriting on the first page is incorrect.

P. 79 s. v. והנה: The word הארוך should be האריך.

P. 146 s.v. גי”ק. The sentence reads: ורבות נצטערתי והמו מעי לו שירדפו גאון מובהק כמו”ב.

The abbreviation should be כמי”ב – כמותו ירבו בישראל. See p. 152, top line.

P. 173 no. 137: R. Aryeh Jacob Katznelson was the son-in-law of R. Yehiel Michel’s brother-in-law.

P. 193 n. 17: The quotation does not appear in no. 39.

According to Glick, Kuntres ha-Teshuvot he-Hadash, vol. 1 (Jerusalem and Ramat Gan, 2007), 582 (no. 2186), material from R. Yehiel Michel appears in R. Moses Spivak, Mateh Moshe (Warsaw, 1935).
[25] Hayyim Schirmann, Ha-Shirah ha-Ivrit bi-Sefarad u-ve-Provence (Jerusalem, 1954), vol. 1, no. 143; translation in Norman Roth, “‘Deal Gently with the Young Man’: Love of Boys in Medieval Hebrew Poetry of Spain,” Speculum 57:1 (1982): 45.
[26] See here.
[27] see my “Obituary: Professor Mordechai Breuer zt”l,” the Seforim blog (Monday, 11 June 2007), available here.
[28] See Yabia Omer, vol. 9, Orah Hayyim no. 108 (p. 269).
[29] See Shmuel Glick, Kuntres ha-Teshuvot he-Hadash, vol. 1 (Jerusalem and Ramat Gan, 2006), 57.
[30] The Pentateuch: Its Composition and Its Authorship (Jerusalem, 1967), 33.

[31] ואומר בתחלה כי משה רבינו כתב כל התורה כלה מפי הגבורה, מ”בראשית” עד “לעיני כל ישראל” . . . וכן צריך להאמין, כי הכל נאמר ברוח הקודש ומפי הנבואה למשה רבינו עליו השלום

[32] See here.
[33] See Avraham Korman, Ha-Tahor ve-ha-Mutar (Tel Aviv, 2000), 99.
[34] See Al Parashat ha-Derakhim, ch. 51, available here. The actual quote is

יותר משישראל שמרו את השבת שמרה השבת אותם.

[35] R. Herzog was well aware of whose saying he was adapting when, in an article on Taharat ha-Mishpahah published in Ha-Pardes (September 1947, p. 15), he wrote:

לצערנו העמוק והמחריד נפרצו בימינו פרצות גדולות, ואף בארץ הקודש, בחומה זו של טהרת המשפחה, שאפשר להגיד עליה, שיותר ממה ששמרו ישראל עליה שמרה היא על ישראל

[36] See here.