The “Holy Woman” in Jewish Literature

Any discussion regarding prostitution in Jewish literature starts with the various mentions in Tanach. Obviously, some are clearer than others, compare the case of Rachav with that of Tamar. But we will leave those comparisons for the readers of the Seforim blog who consider themselves biblical exegetes. Additionally, we will not focus on the Talmudic or overly legalistic discussions regarding prostitution. Instead, starting in Medieval times, we will attempt to document some of the mentions of prostitution and its effect, prevalence and general history amongst Jews.

Of late, much has been made of high governmental officials and their use of prostitutes. A striking parrall can be found in the writings of R. Yaakov Emden. R. Emden records that one of the parnasim, a representative of the Altona Jewish community, who went to Copenhagen for the inauguration of the king [Frederick III?] on behalf of the Altona Jews. While he was there, he squandered “thousands” from the community funds to engage prostitutes. Similarly, R. Emden relates that in Hamburg in 1764, after Kol Nidrei, a non-Jewish woman made a scene in shul claiming that her three children’s father was a Jew, and that he should take the children and support them.

Prostitution, much like today, appears to be a fascination of the public. It appears this is not a new phenomenon, instead, R. Hayyim Yosef David Azulai, in his travelogue Ma’agel Tov, records his impressions of Paris when he was there in 1777. [The Hida really liked Paris, and although this was not his first visit there, he still provides many interesting details.] He states:

Paris is a huge city, some 15 miles wide, with wide streets so wide that two carriages can pass each other even with people hanging on the sides, and the Seine river flows through Paris and that is where Parisians get their water. There is a bridge, the Pont Neuf, and this bridge is so busy that day or night there are always people on it . . . In fact the saying goes at any hour one can find on the Pont Neuf a white horse, a priest, and prostitute. The city of Paris is beautiful and one can find everything there, however, it is all expensive, the one exception being prostitutes – and it is known that there are 30,000 prostitutes that are available for anyone. That number does not include the thousands that are specialized for particular persons.

Throughout the middle ages, in the Iberian peninsula, there was a debate whether having prostitutes available was better on the whole. Two rationales were offered as a justification for prostitution. The first, that if people use prostitutes they won’t fall prey to adultery, a much more serious sin. And second, that there was in various times and places laws that punished by death Jewish and non-Jewish intercourse. Without Jewish prostitutes, Jews may violate that prohibition and be subject to death – typically burning. Thus, having Jewish prostitutes was allowed for the very pragmatic reason as a balance of harms, or the greater good, that is, it avoided these two other negative outcomes.

R. Yitzhak Arama famously decried these justifications. In explaining the sin of the people of Sedom, he put forth the notion that although individuals may sin, any time a community sanctions sins, that creates a much more serious communal crime. And that, he says, was why Sodom was unique in being utterly destroyed although there were numerous other instances of serious sin throughout Tanach that did not suffer the fate of Sodom. R. Armama then continues and applies the explanation for the destruction Sodom to his own times. He explains that for this reason he fought against those communities that sanctioned prostitution. While it may be correct that there is some way to justify prostitution, a community can never sanction illegal behavior. He offered that the ramifications of not having prostitutes was not to be considered, in no way could a community allow for such behavior. [This holding of R. Arama is used by many in many varied instances, see R. Ovadiah Yosef, Yabeah Omer, Orach Hayyim vol. 1, no. 30:15).]

R. Yitzhak ben Sheshet Perfet (Rivash) speaks of the “Gedoli Ha-Dor” who used the very rationale rejected by R. Arama to justify prostitution:

“The Gedolei Ha-Dor averted their eyes [from Jewish prostitution] based on the rationale that if we do not allow the sinners to utilize prostitutes they will sin with non-Jews and they will be subject to burning.”

Similarly, R. Yehuda ben Ha-Rosh received a similar query in that he was asked whether the position “of some people who say that they should force the prostitutes out of the Jewish area as they are in violation of the prohibition against kadasha and further they do not go to the mikveh thus causing people to be punished with karet, however, there are those who say that it is better to have the prostitutes remain in the city so that Jews will not resort to going to non-Jews thereby putting their lives in danger.” R. Yehuda responded, like R. Arama, that “the law does not follow ‘those who say’ and they should remove the prostitutes. A Latin document records a troubling incident from 1404 where, “a German speaking Jew visited a non-Jewish prostitute on Shabbat and he refused to pay her, he explained that he could not pay her as it would violate the Shabbat.”

Skipping ahead a few years to 1675, we come to the Takkanot of Frankfurt which states “that one is required to remove the prostitutes within six month from the Jewish area . . . And they cannot remain even as servants, even if they are kept for free. But, if the householder is willing to pay a two Reichthaller a week fine, then they can be kept, however, should they miss even a week’s payment then they must leave.” In Fuerth, a law was required to be enacted that single mothers could not circumcise their sons in the shul.

Finally, we turn to R. Yechezkel Landau, author of Shu”t Noda B’Yehuda, and although he is not discussing prostitution in general, but it is worthwhile to mention a specific case of Havah Bernstein, wife of the Chief Rabbi of Brody, R. Areyeh Leib Bernstein. According to the testimony of two people (and perhaps others), Havah was accused of acting as a prostitute. After this testimony came to light there was a celebrated controversy regarding the status of this woman vis-a-vis her husband. It appears, due to the Chief Rabbi’s powerful secular connections he was able to shut down any discussion about his wife (although there are several responsa on the topic). And specifically, there was a decree that anyone who called the Chief Rabbi’s wife a prostitute would be subject to a fine of 100 adumim for each statement to that effect. So, R. Landau showed up to court and made the following announcement:

“Everyone should know that the wife of the Chief Rabbi is a prostitute and there is a fine, 100 adumim for each utterace that she is a prostitute, and you should also all know that if I had more money I would call her a prostitute again, however I currently do not have the money I will have to satisfy myself with the fact that I have already called her a prostitute.”

Thus, R. Landau was able to call her a prostitute four times for the price of one. (Mofes Ha-Dor p. 9).

Sources: For the medieval sources see Grossman, Hassidut U-Morodot Jerusalem, 2003), 229-56 (see also where Grossman cites to those who question the truth of the Latin account and discusses other areas during the medieval period); R. Arama, Akedat Yitzhak, parshat Veyerah, Gate 20; Hida, Maagel Tov, p. 120; for the 16th and 17th sources, including R. Emden, see Azreil Shohet, Im Halufei Tekufot (Jerusalem, 1960), 166-73. For more on the Havah Bernstein incident, see David Katz, “A Case Study in the Formation of a Super-Rabbi: The Early Years of Rabbi Ezekiel Landau, 1713-1754,” (PhD dissertation, University of Maryland, 2004), 228-51; and Matthias Lehmann, “Levantinos and Other Jews: Reading H. Y. D. Azulai’s Travel Diary,” Jewish Social Studies 13:3 (Spring/Summer 2007): 1-34.




The Origins of Hamentashen in Jewish Literature (Revisited)

The Origins of Hamentashen in Jewish Literature: A Historical-Culinary Survey Revisited*
By Eliezer Brodt

I. Introduction

As Jews, most of our holidays have special foods specific to them; and behind each culinary custom, lays enveiled the reasoning behind them. Shavuot brings with it a vast array of customary dairy delicacies – in some parts of the world, cheesecake is practically obligatory – not to mention different customs in regard to how and when to eat them. Rosh Hashanah in renowned for the different fruits and vegetables eaten as physical embodiments symbolizing our tefillot; Chanukah has fried foods (no trans-fats please); whether latkes sizzling in the frying pan, or the elusive Israeli sufganiyot (jelly doughnuts) seen for a month before but not to be found a minute after Chanukah’s departure, and on the fifteenth of Shevat a veritable plethora of fruits are sampled in an almost ‘Pesach Seder’-like ceremony. Of course, on Purim we eat hamentashen.

Hamentashen. Those calorie-inflated, Atkins-defying, doughy tri-cornered confections filled with almost anything bake-able. The Mishpacha reports that this year in Israel alone, an astounding 24.5 million hamentashen will be sold, weighing 1225 tons, and yielding an approximate 33 million NIS in sales.[1] The question that many will be asking themselves is “where did this minhag to eat hamentashen come from?”

Recently I started researching this topic; thus far (and I hope to find more) my results are as follows.

II. Origins

The earliest source I have located so far can be found in the first Jewish comedy called Ztachus Bedechusa Dekidushin. This play was written in Hebrew by Yehudah Sommo (1527- 1592) from Italy. He was a friend of R. Azariah Men Hadomim and is even quoted in the Meor Eynamim (at the end of chapter eighteen). This comedy was written for Purim as he writes in the introduction:

הוא ספר חדש מדבר צחות אשר בדה מלבו פ’ בימי בחרותו לצחק בו בימי הפורים ובשעת חדוה

In one of the scenes the following conversation take place:

יאיר: אם בדברים כאלה אכפרה פניו, כבר יש לי קושיא אחת אשר ייעפו כל תוספי התורה להתירה, כי הנה כתוב במגלת פורים “ויתלו את המן” ובפרשת בלק נכתב בפירוש “ויאכלו בני ישראל את המן”. ואיך יאכלו היהודים הנשמרים מכל רע את נבלת התלוי ההוא ואל הכלב לא ישליכו אותה?

יקטן: גם זה ראיתי אני וכבר תרץ הקושיא הזאת רב בלעם בן בבי בשם אביו: כי מה שאמרה התורה “ויאכלו את המן” היא אזהרה וציווי לנו שנאכל בימי הפורים האלה מאזני המן – הן המה הרקייקם הנעשים בסולת בלולה בשמן, וזהו שאמר אחרי כן “וטעמו כצפיחית בדבש”.

יאיר: יפה פירוש בן ביבי זכור לטוב!

Professor Schirman who printed this play from manuscript notes that רב בלעם בן בבי is the name of one of the characters in the Massekhet Purim of R. Kalonymus ben Kalonymus. [2] In connection with Yehudah Sommo’s play, it is possible to understand an engmatic statement in the Tishbi. Specifically, R. Elijah Bocher writes:

ערך “מנלן”- מנלן להמן מן התורה שנאמר ויאכלך את המן, גם זו מלה מורכבת מן ב’ מלות אן ולן
R. Yeshaya Pick in his notes on the Tishbi asks, the Gemarah in Chulin which asks this same question has a different source for Haman min Hatorah where does the Tishbi get this Chazal from? He suggests that maybe he had different chazal which we do not have. However in the new edition of Tishbi they printed notes of R. Mazauz who suggests that it is highly probable that there was no such Chazal rather the Tishbi was referring to the famous lezunuot about eating hamntashen. This suggestion is all the more probable after seeing the words of Yehudah Sommo in his play written a little after the Tishbi.[3]

The next source I have located is in the poetry of the brothers Yakov and Emanuel Pranosish (1618- 1703) in one piece [4] they write:

אמנם נזרק העט ונקצר ענינים,

כי יום פורים זה בא, נכין לו מעדנים,

נכין מרקחות ממתקים מכל מינים,

נגדיל אזני המן מאזני השפנים,

Ben-Yehudah, in his dictionary also cites to a manuscript excerpt of a Purim comedy penned by R. Yehudah Aryeh de Modena, where he is supposed to mention this food Hamantashen.[5]
Mention can also be found in some liturgical parodies [6] from the seventeenth-century, where it includes references to eating hamentashen:

שתו אכלו אזני המן

Thus, from the above, it seems that the original word was aznei Haman the name Hamantashen only came later.

In an 1846 cook book called The Jewish Manual by Lady Judith Cohen Montefiore we find a recipe for “Haman fritters.”[7] R. Barukh ha-Levi Epstein, in his Mekor Barukh, relates the following interesting anecdote which highlights the importance his grandfather placed on eating hamentashen:

One year in the beginning of the month of Adar he [my grandfather] noticed that the bakeries were not selling hamentashen. When he inquired as to why this was so, he discovered that there was a shortage of flour. He promptly went ahead and gave the biggest bakers in the city a large sum of money to enable them to buy flour to bake hamantsashen.[8]

In a nineteenth-century Lithuanian memoir again the import of hamentashen is apparent. The author recalls that “my sister spent the day preparing the baked delicacies of Purim. Most important were the hamentashen.”[9] R. Michael Braver in his excellent memoir of Galicia written in the mid 1800’s also describes the sending of Hamantashen on Purim. [10] A. S. Sachs in his memories on shtetl life notes that his “grandma would add a Haman-tash for the kiddies” in the meshloach manot.[11] Chaim Hamburger also mentions the baking of Hamantashen on purim in his memoirs. [12]. Professor Simha Assaf, in an article describing Purim, also writes that people made special foods called hamentashen.[13] Shmarya Levin recollects in his autobiography with great detail the hamentashen:

The much-loved little cakes, stuffed with nuts and poppy seed, which are called ‘Haman’s ears’ – sometimes ‘Haman’s pockets’ – had been prepared for us in vast numbers. Their shape alone was a joy. They were neither round, like rolls, nor long, like the loaf; with their triangular shape they were like nothing else that we ate during the year. The stuffing was made of poppy-seeds fried in honey, but there was not enough of it, so we used to eat the cake cagily, in such wise that with every mouthful we got at least a nibble of honeyed poppy seed.[14]

Similarly, David Zagier in his memoirs of Botchki writes about his childhood there: We commemorated Purim . . . Lesser Miracles came in the wake of the Purim miracle . . . the invention of Hamentashen, the best cakes one could dream of, all poppy seed and honey (p. 69).[15] We also find hamentashen being eaten in Amsterdam[16] and Jews from Bucharia, as well, make אזני המן, similar to hamentashen. [17] לאה אזני המן מנין is a comedy listed in Avraham Yari’s bibliographical listing of comedies.[18]

III. Other possible early origins for Hamentashen

As we can see, the custom of eating hamentashen is widespread and common from at least the 16th century. In fact, R. Shmuel Ashkenazi pointed to some sources which may demonstrate that hamentashen were eaten even earlier. Ben Yehuda in his dictionary claims that as early as the time of the Abarbanel (1437-1508), hamentashen were consumed. The Abarbanel, discussing the food which fell from heaven, the mon, describes these cakes as:[19]

וצפיחית הוא מאכל הקמח מבושל בשמן כצורת צפחת המים הנאכל בדבש והוא כמו הרקיקים העושים מן הבצק כדמות אזנים מבושלות בשמן ויטבלו אותם בדבש ויקראוהו אזנים

This sounds like our hamentashen although there is no reference to eating them on Purim. But R. Ashkenazi pointed out to me that if this is the source, you might then be able to suggest that hamentashen was already eaten much earlier, as this piece of the Abarbanel is word for word taken from R Yosef ibn Kaspi who lived several hundred years earlier (Kaspi was born in 1298 and died in 1340)!

Another possible early source for our Hamentashen could perhaps be found thru the words of Emanuel Haromi. In Machbres Emanuel [20] he writes:

מה אומר המן? לכל זמן

וזרש? לא תקלל חרש!

And then again:

ואם אמר: ארור המן וזרש! ישיבון: אל תקלל, דוד, לחרש!

Dov Yardan when he was preparing his excellent critical edition of Machbres Emanuel composed a list of statements of Emanuel that Yardan was unable to locate sources for. One of these was this line regarding Haman’s deafness. Yaran suggests that this maybe this has to do with why we eat aznei Haman! And maybe that is also tied to the banging and using of gragers when we say Haman name. [21] Interestingly Dov Sadan also writes in his youth he used to hear that Haman was deaf.

So to conclude it seems from all this that the original word was aznei Haman the name Hamantashen only came later and earliest origins are from Italy. [22]

IV. Ta’am ha-Hamentashen

Irrespective when the custom of eating hamentashen began, the question we need to now explore is why hamentashen, what connection do hamentashen have with Purim?

Hayyim Schauss explains that in actuality the origins of the hamentashen are not Jewish, rather, we originally appropriated them from another culture. He explains that “the hamentashen are also of German origin. Originally they were called mohn-tashen, mohn meaning poppy seed and tashen meaning pockets and also signified dough that is filled with other food stuffs. The people therefore related the cake to the book of Esther and changed the mahn to Haman [due to its similarity]. In time the interpretation arose that the three cornered cakes are eaten because Haman wore a three cornered hat when he became prime minister to Ahasuerus. The three corners were also interpreted as a symbolic sign of the three patriarchs whose merit aided the Jews against Haman.”[23]

Another reason offered for eating hamentashen also deals with the meaning (more correctly a pun) of the word – hamentashen, because Haman wanted to kill us out and Hashem weakened him, preventing him from doing evil to us. Thus, the treat is called המן תש (Hamen became weakened). Eating these pastries is representative of our faith that the same result will befall all our antagonists.[24]

The next reason offered by Menucha u-Kedusha has to do with the pastry itself, more specifically, how the filling is hidden. Until the events which occurred on Purim, the Jews were accustomed to open miracles like those in their battle with Sisra, whereas the Purim miracle appeared to be through natural events – only Mordechai knew that this was a miracle. To remember this, we eat pastries that the main part – the filling – is hidden in the dough, similar to the miracle which was hidden in nature. The filling chosen was specifically zeronim (seeds – poppy seed – mahn) to remind us of Daniel having eaten only seeds (and not non-kosher food) while in captivity at Nevuchadnezar’s court. Furthermore, according to this source the triangular shape also has meaning. The Talmud (Megillah 19b) records a three way argument from where to start reading the megillah. As the halakhah is to follow all three opinions and start from the beginning, we cut the pastries in triangular shape to symbolize our accordance to all three opinions. Another reason mentioned in Menucha u-Kedusha for the filling is based on the writings of R. Moshe Alsheikh, who states the Jews did not really think they were going to get completely wiped out until Mordechai finally convinced them so. The possibility arises that Mordechai was afraid to keep on sending out letters, so pastries were baked and the letters hidden therein. These pastry-letters saved the Jews; in turn we eat filled pastries. This reason is a bit interesting for itself, but what is even more interesting is that he never calls the pastries hamentashen.[25] A possibility might be kreplach, meat filled pockets boiled in soup, but the theory is unlikely as kreplach are not something special eaten exclusively for Purim – we eat it other times such as Erev Yom Kippur and Hoshana Rabah.

R. Yaakov Kamenetsky offers yet another reason for eating hamentashen on Purim. As we eat the hamentashen and eating is a form of destroying the item being eaten. Therefore, in eating hamentashen, we are fulfilling the commandment (figuratively) of destroying Amalek we are eating Hamen.[26]

Yom Tov Lewinsky and Professor Dov New both suggest that the reason for eating the hamentashen is because the custom in the Middle Ages was to cut off the ears of someone who was supposed to be hung,[27] to remember that we eat pastries from which a part had been cut off. Another point mentioned both by these authors is an opinion that the filling in the pastries [this is specific to poppy seeds] is in remembrance to the 10,000 silver coins that Haman offered to contribute to Achashverosh’s coffers.[28]

Aside from the general merrymaking on Purim, there is also a long tradition of written fun. Specifically, since the famous Massekhet Purim of R. Kalonymus ben Kalonymus (1286-1328), there have been many versions of these type of comedies written throughout the ages. One such was R. Avraham Mor, Kol Bo LePurim (Lemberg, 1855), which is a complete sefer all about Purim written to be humorous. Included therein is a question regarding changing the way hamentashen should be made from a triangle to make them square shape! He answered that it would be terrible to make hamentashen square. If the hamentashen are square they would have four corners which in turn would obligate the attachment of tzitzet like any clothes of four corners.[29]

One last interesting point in regard to hamentashen can be found within Prof. Elliott Horowitz’s recent book-length discussion related to Purim[30] where he notes that as recent as 2002, a Saudi ‘scholar’ Umayna Ahamad al Jalahma claimed that Muslim blood can be used for the three cornered hamentashen.[31] Horowitz also notes that in middle of the Damascus affair in 1840, a work from 1803 was discovered which claimed that Christian blood was used in the ingredients for Purim pastries.[32] Again in 1846, Horowitz writes that “on the holiday of Purim it was claimed the Jews would annually perform a homicide in hateful memory of Haman, and if they managed to kill a Christian the Rabbi would bake the latter’s blood in triangular pastries which he would send as mishloach manot to his Christian friend.”[33] In 1938 the Jews were once again accused of murdering an adult Christian and drying his blood to be mixed into the triangular cakes eaten on Purim.[34]

Thanks to Rabbis Y. Tessler, A. Loketch and Yosaif M. Dubovick, and the two anonymous readers, for their help in locating some of the sources.

* This article has been heavily updated from last year’s version with many important additions and corrections.

Notes
[1] Mishpacha (27 Shevat 5767), 30.
[2] This play was printed for the first time from manuscript by C. Shirman in a critical edition in 1946 and than reissued by him with additions in 1965. This piece with the quote of aznei Haman can be found in the second edition on page 67. This particular passage was also reprinted by Shirman in his Letoldos Hashira vHadrama Haivrit, 2, pg 52-53. Shirman includes a nice introduction and background on Yehudah Sommo printed in both these places.

This play is the first known play performed for Purim. From this time period and onwards we have a very rich literature of plays and musicals. They were performed especially on Purim but on other occasions such as Simchas Torah and weddings (Shirman, Ibid, pp. 63-67; 80 -85). To be sure these plays were also met with opposition most notable by R. Samuel Abhuv [See, Shu”t Davar Shmuel, siman daled and Shirman, ibid pg 47, 56]. This is the one and the same that was against Meschtas Purim and cross dressing. However, it could be there was not so much out rage against it as the Rabonim felt it was a lost battle or the lesser of two evils to go to ones of Gentiles. Of the many play writers some were very famous gedolim most notable the author of Ikrei Dinim, R. Moshe Zechuto and the Ramchal. This whole topic has been dealt with very much in depth by C. Shirman in his Letoldos Hashira VHadrama Haivrit, 2, pgs 44-94. On the Ramchal see: Shirman, ibid, pg 84-85 and 161-175.

This era in Italy was followed by a long period of Yiddish plays many of which were collected by C. Shmirk. Until today in many circles especially yeshivas plays are performed on Purim. In Europe some of the plays were performed by the bochrim to raise money for themselves. In many memoirs we have accounts of how much the masses enjoyed these plays. Just to list a few of the very many sources on this topic. See the accounts in Pauline Wengeroff, Rememberings: The World of a Russian-Jewish Woman in the Nineteenth Century pp. 31- 32; A. S. Sachs, Worlds That Passed, pp. 232-234 ; Zechronot Av Ubeno, p. 356.

On purim plays in general much has been written see: Israel Abrahams, Jewish life in the Middle Ages, pgs 260- 272; H. Pollack, Jewish Folkways in Germanic Lands (1648-1806), pp. 184- 190 and 332-335; Sperber, Minhagei Yisroel,6, p. 201 who writes this was from outside influences; M. Breuer, Ohele Torah, pp. 418-419; E. Horowitz, Reckless Rites, pp. 84-87;
[3] New edition of Tishbi p. 162.
[4] Printed in Kol Shirei Yakov Pronsish p. 363. On these brothers see the Introduction printed in this edition. See also: C. Shirman, Letoldos Hashira vHadrama Haivrit, 2, pp. 57, 138.
[5] Though I was unable to pin-point the comedy, it might be the one called La Reina Esther; see Mark R. Cohen, The Autobiography of a Seventeenth-Century Venetian Rabbi: Leon Modena’s Life of Judah (Princeton University Press, 1988), p. 235. This play was written in Italian and is extremely rare. Recently Marina Arbib wrote an excellent article called ‘The Queen Esther Triangle: Leon Modena, Ansaldo Ceba and Sara Copio Sullam’, printed in the book Aryeh Yeshag pp. 103-135. See also C. Schirman, Letoldos Hashira vHadrama Haivrit, 2, p. 55.
[6] Israel Davidson, Parody in Jewish Literature (New York, 1907), p. 193.
[7] Lady Judith Cohen Montefiore, The Jewish Manual (London, 1846)
[8] R. Barukh ha-Levi Epstein, Mekor Barukh (vol 1, p. 974)
[9] Pauline Wengeroff, Rememberings: The World of a Russian-Jewish Woman in the Nineteenth Century, ed. Bernard Dov Cooperman, trans. Henny Wenkart (University Press of Maryland, 2000), p. 29.
[10] Zechronot Av Ubeno, p. 24.
[11] A. S. Sachs, Worlds That Passed (Jewish Publication Society of America, 1928), p. 229.
[12] Shlosha Olmos, 3, p. 22.
[13] Simha Assaf, Sefer Hamoadim, p. 29.
[14] Forward from Exile: The Autobiography of Shmarya Levin, ed. and trans. Maurice Samuel (Jewish Publication Society of America, 1967).
[15] Botchki, p. 69.
[16] Minhagei Amsterdam p. 149 # 12
[17] Yalkut ha-Minhagim, pg. 210
[18] Hamachazeh Ha-Ivri, p. 76 n.654.
[19] Parashat Beshalach, end of chap. 16; [This source is also quoted in the Otzar ha-Lashon ha-Ivrit, however the editors simply describe it as a “phrase from the Middle Ages” (vol 1 p. 59).] When I first wrote this suggestion from R. Askenazi, R. M. Honig pointed out to me that it is more likely that they were referring to Sufganyuos as it is evident from the words of Rav Mamion the father of the Rambam where he says:

אין להקל בשום מנהג ואפילו מנהג קל. ויתחייב כל נכון לו עשית משתה ושמחה ומאכל לפרסם הנס שעשה השם יתברך עמנו באותם הימים. ופשט המנהג לעשות סופגנין, בערבי אלספינג, והם הצפחיות בדבש ובתרגום האיסקריטין הוא מנהג הקדמונים משום שהם קלויים בשמן לזכר ברכתו (כלומר לנס שבפך שמן)

(See my earlier post on this). This could be further supported with the words of Emanuel Haromi in Machbres Emanuel where he writes (p. 168):

בכסליו… ואחרת תבשל הרקיקים, וצפחית ומעשה החבתים.
This could be another early source for Sufganyuos. However in light of these words of Yehudah Sommo where he says:

לנו שנאכל בימי הפורים האלה מאזני המן – הן המה הרקייקם הנעשים בסולת בלולה בשמן, וזהו שאמר אחרי כן “וטעמו כצפיחית בדבש”.
So it could very well be that the Abarbanel and Kaspi were referring to Hamantashen.
[20] Machbres Emanuel pp. 109, 169. According to this that the possible source for eating aznei Haman comes from Emanuel Haromi! It is not clear if he had a source from Chazal for this statement that Haman was deaf as much of what he says is based on Chazal. However there is a good chance that this was just a joke of his. This would not be the first time that a joke of his became accepted in our regular literature. R. Askenazi pointed out to me one such example in the Tur Al Hatoroah, Bresheis (pg 7) where he writes as follows:

ויאמר האדם האשה אשר נתתה עמדי הוא נתנה לי מן העץ ואכל. לפי הפשט שהכתני בעץ עד כי שמעתי לדבריה.
The source for this is really Emmanuel Haromi (pg 400) where he writes:

ויגש העשרי ויאמר: אמר נא, פלא יועץ מה רצה הכתוב באמרו היא נתנה לי מן העץ והיה לו לומר מפרי העץ, לפי הנראה ועתה אמר נא, בחסדך מה פרוש בו אתה רואה? ואען ואמר: חייך, ידידות נפשי! פרוש הפסוק הוא: היא נתנה לי מן העץ על ראשי ודכאה לארץ חיתי עד שאכלתי על כרחי, שלא בטובתי.

R. Askenazi noted that this pirish which was meant as a joke was accepted by many besides for the Tur amongst them the Moshav Zekanim R. Yakov Meveinia.
[21] Yedah Haam, 3, p. 70.
[22] See the excellent article of Dov Saden printed in his work Shay Olomos (pp. 25-38) on the development of this word hamantashen, based on an incredible wide range of sources. This piece helped me find some of the rather unknown sources. See also Yehudah Avidah in his work on Yiddish Foods ‘Yideishe macholim’ pp. 46-49. See also Dov New, Machanaim (# 43) and the recent issue of the Kulmos (#60) p. 17.
[23] Hayyim Schauss, The Jewish Festivals (Random House, 1938; Hebrew, 1933), p. 270. The source for the first reason can be found in Judah David Eisenstein, Otzar Dinim u-Minhagim (New York, 1917), p. 336, and for the last reason in Yitzhak Lifshitz, Sefer Ma’atamim (Warsaw, 1889), p. 86.
[24] Avraham Eliezer Hershkowitz, Otzar Kol Minhaghei Yeshrun (St. Louis, 1918), p. 131. See also R. Cohen in his book Puirm VChodesh Adar, pp. 116-117 and R. Kamile, Shar Reveun, p. 206.
[25] R. Yisrael Isserl of Ponevezh Sefer Menucha u-Kedusha (Vilna, 1864), pp. 271-72.
[26] Yaakov Michoel Jacobs, Bemechitzas Rabbeinu: Hagaon Rav Yaakov Kamenetzky, zt”l (Feldheim, 2005), p. 142.
[27] Yom Tov Lewinsky, Sefer Hamoadim (pp. 153-154); Dov New, Machanaim # 43. New quotes a piece from Yashar which I have been unable to locate on this topic if any one knows its location please be so kind as to let me know. This source is also quoted by Ben Yehuda in his dictionary under the entry aznei.
[28] Ibid.
[29] R. Avraham Mor, Kol Bo LePurim (Lemberg, 1855), pg. 6. See Israel Davidson, ibid. pg 234-235, #191.
[30] Elliott Horowitz, Reckless Rites: Purim and the Legacy of Jewish Violence (Princeton University Press, 2006)
[31] Ibid, p. 9.
[32] Ibid, p. 218.
[33] Ibid, p. 219.
[34] Ibid, p. 228.



Answers to Quiz Questions and Other Comments, part 2

Answers to Quiz Questions and Other Comments, part 2
 
by Marc B. Shapiro
1. In my previous post, in discussing the words in Ecclesiastes 2:8 עשיתי לי שרים ושרות, I referred to the interpretation in Kohelet Rabbati. This very section of Kohelet Rabbati has an amazing comment, which as far as I know was never referred to in the dispute over Sara Hurwitz’ rabbinical ordination. Commenting on the words שדה ושדות, which appear in the same sentence as שרים ושרות, the Midrash states:

שדה ושדות: דיינים זכרים ודיינות נקבות
In other words, Solomon is portrayed as appointing female dayanim! (See also Ruth Rabbah 1:1 where Deborah and Yael are described as judges.[1]) The standard commentaries find this passage very difficult and offer alternative explanations, sometimes in opposition to the plain sense of the words. Etz Yosef suggests that the job of the women was to judge other women. R. David Luria adopts the lav davka approach, and assumes that דיינות must mean policewomen of sorts.
ודיינות נקבות: לאו דווקא דיינות דאשה פסולה לדון. אלא שופטת להשגיח שלא ישלטו [ישלחו?] הנשים בעולתה איש לרעותה את ידה
His position is rejected by R. Abraham Horowitz, Kinyan Torah ba-Halakhah, vol 1, no. 8:3. Rabbi Horowitz, who was a member of the Edah Haredit beit din, assumed that when the Midrash referred to female dayanim, it didn’t mean that they actually took part in beit din proceedings, but it did mean that they decided halakhic matters, and in that sense they are דיינות. Here are his words, which everyone should examine closely.
ובאמת ל”י [לא ידעתי] מה החרדה הזאת דהא הפת”ש בחו”מ סי’ ז’ סק”ה הביא מספר החינוך מצוה קנ”ח דאשה חכמה ראוי’ להורות . . . אפש”ל דיינות שנתמנו [ע”י שלמה] רק לפסוק הוראה ולא לדון. ועימנ”ח סו”מ ע”ח דפשיטא לי’ דנשים מצטרפות לרוב חכמי הדור אם חולקין באיזו דין . . . מכ”ז נראה דאין לזלזל בסמכות אשה כשירה
I requested that readers examine his words, because in the backlash over Hurwitz’ ordination a number of statements were made the upshot of which was that halakhic decision-making is reserved for men. Ironically, this position is given support by at least some of the women serving as yoatzot, for they are careful to stress that while they provide guidance, they don’t, Heaven forbid, actually decide halakhah. When there is a real halakhic question they turn to the experts, that is, the male rabbis. The message of this is, of course, that women, no matter how learned, are disqualified from deciding halakhah.[2]
Returning to Kohelet Rabbati, R. Yisrael Be’eri accepts that the Midrash means what it says when it refers to dayanim, but suggests that Solomon not only had female courts, but also “co-ed” batei din. See Ha-Midrash ka-Halakhah (Nes Tziyonah, 1960), p. 317:
ולולי מסתפינא אמינא שזה היה הרכב זוגי ז”א אותו דין היה מתברר בפני בי”ד רגיל וכן הוסיף שיתברר בפני דיינות נקבות שאולי יש בהן בינה יתירה וגישה מיוחדת ואחר כך שוקלין זה מול זה ואז היה מתברר הדין בדקדוק ושיקול מיוחד וצ”ע.
It is noteworthy that he sees value in having the female dayanim examine the matter, since they can bring a feminine perspective to bear. If I just presented the text without telling you who the author was and when it was written, I am sure people would assume that only a modern feminist type could have penned these words. Yet we see that this is not the case.
R. Hayyim David Halevi also deals with this Midrash (Aseh Lekha Rav, vol. 8, pp. 247-248). He suggests that the Midrash is indeed operating under the assumption that there is no problem with women dayanim. Alternatively, he suggests that Solomon and his council accepted the authority of the women, and therefore this was permissible. In other words, there is only a halakhic problem when a woman is made a dayan against the will of the community, but if she is accepted by them, then she can serve. And how do we determine if the community accepts her as a dayan? Halevi explains:
וקבלה ודאי שמועילה, והכל כשרים לדון בקבלה, וקבלת גדולי הקהל מספיקה ואין צורך שכל העומדים לדין יקבלו עליהם. וכן מצאנו “דיינות נקבות” כלשון המדרש, ואין סתירה להלכה
What this means is that if the leaders of the community accept women dayanim, then this is sufficient. (I am speaking about in matters of Hoshen Mishpat, not dayanim for Even ha-Ezer.) Therefore, if leaders of the OU or the RCA declare that they accept women, that would open the door to appointing a woman as a dayan on the RCA beit din. Halevi refers to acceptance by גדולי הקהל. In the context of the United States, where there are lots of different kehilot, I would assume that this means that if the leaders of any one community, or even of one synagogue, agree to accept a woman as dayan, then this is sufficient.
R. Ben Zion Uziel also claimed that women can serve as dayanim, and the means of achieving this would be through a takanah. He cites meta-halakhic reasons to explain why this is not a good idea, but from a pure halakhic standpoint, he sees it as entirely acceptable.[3]
Leaving aside the issue of serving as a dayan, it is obvious to me that women rabbis are coming to Modern Orthodoxy, even if the powers that be are standing firmly against it. Yet they have already let the genie out of the bottle. By sanctioning advanced Torah study for women, there is no question that the time will come when there will be women scholars of halakhah who are able to decide issues of Jewish law. The notion that a woman who has the knowledge can “poskin” is not really controversial, and has been acknowledged by many haredi writers as well.[4] Very few rabbis are poskim, but every posek is by definition a “rabbi”, whether he, or she, has received ordination or not.[5] So when we have women who are answering difficult questions of Jewish law, they will be “rabbis”,[6] and no declarations by the RCA or the Agudah will be able to change matters. I am not talking about pulpit rabbis, as this position has its own dynamic and for practical reasons may indeed not be suitable for a woman. Yet as we all know, very few rabbis function in a pulpit setting, and much fewer will ever serve as a dayan on a beit din.
The reason why the issue of ordaining women has been so problematic is because the Orthodox community is simply not ready for it. Yet when women will achieve the level of scholarship that I refer to, and are already deciding matters of halakhah, then their “ordination” will not be regarded as at all controversial in the Modern Orthodox world, and will be seen as a natural progression. People will respond to this no differently than how they responded to the creation of advanced Torah institutes for women. [7] Since women were already being taught Talmud, the creation of these institutes was a natural step.
There is one more thing that needs to be added, and that is that we have not reached the point where there are women halakhic authorities.[8] I hope I won’t be accused of bashing women by pointing out the following fact, that as of 2012 not one traditional sefer, in Hebrew, written by a woman has been published. By traditional sefer I mean a halakhic work or a commentary on a talmudic tractate. I am waiting for this day, which I hope won’t be too long in the future. I also hope that a learned woman is currently working on a commentary to a tractate, even if it is one of the easier tractates such as Megillah. The point is that for women to be recognized as talmudic and halakhic authorities they will have to do exactly what the men do, and that is show the world that they are serious talmidot hakhamim. The major way to do this is through publishing. (Publishing has its own significance, even if no one actually reads the book. Let’s be honest, of the many volumes of commentary on talmudic tractates that are published by people in yeshiva and kollel every year, does anyone read them? With so many great works of rishonim and aharonim on the tractates, as well as the writings of contemporary gedolim, the modern commentaries by unknown talmidei hakhamim are understandably not anyone’s focus. Yet they are of great benefit to the author, in developing his ideas and advancing his learning, and that is reason enough for the works to appear.)
I agree that it isn’t “fair” that while men can be given the title “rabbi” simply by learning sections of Yoreh Deah, the women must do a lot more to be accepted. But that is required any time new developments come into place. I have been assured by people in the know that the day is coming when we will have first-rate women halakhists and talmudists. It will be fascinating to see what insights they bring to matters, and if a woman’s perspective affects how halakhah is decided. But we haven’t reached that day yet, and just as importantly, the Orthodox world as a whole is not yet ready for that day, as they have not yet become comfortable with the idea of a woman poseket.
In note 7 I refer to the recent article by Broyde and Brody in Hakirah 11. While they leave open the possibility of a future with women rabbis, R. Hershel Schachter also has a very short article in that issue, and he is completely opposed. What I think is interesting is that the only recent authority he cites in support of his rejection of women rabbis is “Rabbi Shaul Lieberman.” I guess R. Schachter regards Lieberman as one of the gedolei Yisrael.[9]
Regarding R. Schachter’s opposition to women rabbis, there is one other point worth noting. In an earlier post, available here, I wrote as follows:
R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai has an entry for “rabbanit” in his Shem ha-Gedolim. He lists there a few learned women. When Azulai uses the term rabbanit, it does not mean “rebbetzin” but “female rabbi”. I am sure that there are those who would object to the Hida that these women were never “ordained”. Yet the Hida also includes many others who were not ordained, but I don’t think anyone would take the title of “rabbi” away from them. One such figure is Moses ben Maimon.
My point in this was to show that women have already been given the title approximating that of rabbi by no less than the Hida (obviously in a pre-feminist context).[10] As far as I know, I was the only one to make this point during the hullabaloo a couple of years ago about the ordination of Sara Hurwitz. I was surprised that no one else picked up on this as I happen to think it would give the pro-ordination side a strong piece of ammunition.
My post went up on June 25, 2010, and someone must have mentioned this to R. Schachter because on July 7, 2010 he responded. You can listen to what he says here (beginning at minute 6). He mentions that the Hida’s use of rabbanit was cited in support of women’s ordination, and concludes that nevertheless this proof is “not so conclusive.” [11]
Flora Sassoon (1859-1936) was an extremely learned woman who lived too late to be included by the Hida.[12] In 2007 the Sassoon family published Nahalat Avot, which is a large collection of letters sent to the Sassoons by great Torah figures. Many of the Torah letters in this book were sent to Flora, and she is addressed in a number of them as “rabbanit”. Her husband held no rabbinic office and I think we can therefore conclude that the term “rabbanit” is being used as a title of respect for her knowledge.[13] Another example of this is seen in how she is introduced by R. Joel Herzog, who published a derashah she delivered in his Imrei Yoel, vol. 3, pp. 204-206. (Are there any other examples of a traditional sefer including something written by a woman?) Herzog too uses the term rabbanit as a title of respect.
Finally, with regard to women’s roles, let me call attention to what I think is a little known fact. Liberal Orthodoxy is very interested in finding ways to expand the opportunities for women to be involved in Jewish rituals. This encompasses everything from reading the Torah and leading Kabbalat Shabbat, to reciting sheva berakhot and reading the ketubah at a wedding. I haven’t yet seen any proposals to have a woman serve as a sandak. This would not be a new practice. R. Meir of Rothenburg writes that in his day in “most places” a woman sat in the synagogue and held the baby during circumcision.[14] In other words, this was the mainstream Ashkenazic minhag. R. Meir opposed this practice and made efforts to uproot it. This opposition was successful and is the background of R. Moses Isserles, Shulhan Arukh, Yoreh Deah 265:11, declaring that a woman cannot be a sandak, because it is peritzut.[15] Yet despite Rama’s comment, my experience is that this is the sort of judgment that the liberal Orthodox are quick to revise. Certainly, the Rama would assume that there is more peritzut in having a woman serve as a hazzan than in holding the baby during a circumcision. Yet for some reason, while the latter has become accepted on the left of Orthodoxy, I haven’t heard anyone speak about instituting female sandakot. (If there are places where women are indeed serving as sandakot, please leave a comment.)
2. In an earlier post I discussed how R. Moses Kunitz’s biography of R. Judah the Prince was censored from a recent printing of the classic Vilna Mishnah. I also included a picture of Kunitz. Here is another, completely unknown, picture of Kunitz.
I found it in the Yeshiva University Archives, call no. 1992.008, and I thank the Archives for permission to publish it here.
In the earlier post dealing with Kunitz, I wrote:
Immediately following Kunitz’ essay, there is another article on the grammar of Mishnaic Hebrew by Solomon Loewisohn.[16] In the very first note he refers to the book of Ecclesiastes, and concludes his comment with והטעם ידוע למשכילי עם. What he is alluding to in this note is that Ecclesiastes is a late biblical book, and thus could not have been written by Solomon. To show this he points to the word חוץ, which in its usage in Ecclesiastes 2:25 is an Aramaism, and thus post-dates the biblical Hebrew of Solomon’s day. To use an expression of the Sages, we live in an olam hafukh. Kunitz’ essay was thought worthy of censorship, and at the same time this note remains in every printing of the Vilna edition of the Mishnah. Yet as I mentioned above, let’s see how long it is before this note, or even the complete essay, is also removed.
What I didn’t realize, and I thank an anonymous commenter for pointing out, is that this note has already been tampered with, and in such an ingenious fashion that there is now no need for it to be deleted. Here is how it appears in the Vilna Mishnah.[17]
And here is the page in the 1999 Zekher Hanokh edition of the Mishnah, published by Wagshal (an edition which also deletes Kunitz’ introduction).
Now, instead of והטעם ידוע למשכילי עם, we have והדבר ידוע למשכילי עם. In the original, Loewisohn is telling the reader that the reason why there is an Aramaism in Ecclesiastes is known to the wise (i.e., the book is post-Solomonic), In the Zekher Hanokh edition all he is saying is that the existence of Aramaisms in Ecclesiastes is known to the wise, with no daring implication as to dating.
I also found something else of interest. Here is the last page of Kunitz’ essay on R. Judah the Prince.
Notice how he mentions Mendelssohn, Rabe’s German translation of the Mishnah, and how in his opinion R. Judah would be happy with such a translation.
This all sounds a little too “maskilish,” and here is what same page looks like as it appears on Otzar ha-Hokhmah.
Look at what has been removed. Is there really such an edition with the removed lines, or did Otzar ha-Hokhmah censor the material itself? (I will return to the censorship of Kunitz in the next post, as new information regarding this has recently come to light.)
There are other examples where I think it is Otzar ha-Hokhmah that is responsible for the censorship. Here is the title page of the book Va-Yakem Edut be-Yaakov (Prague, 1594) as it appears on Otzar ha-Hokhmah
Here is the uncensored page, as is found on hebrewbooks.org
Incidentally, the title page of R. Yitzhak Chajes’ Derashah (Prague, 1589) used the exact same model.
Dan already discussed the Chajes title page here and called attention to how an auction catalog ridiculously suggested, without any evidence whatsoever, that the non-Jewish workers of the Jewish publisher put this immodest picture in.
How were the workers able to get away with this? The catalog has the “religiously correct” answer: it was hol ha-moed and the owner was not around! Since a pious Jew would never have anything to do with such a picture, the non-Jewish workers must have used their own money to buy the plates for this engraving. And why would the non-Jewish workers have spent their own money doing something that would anger the owner and get them fired? It must be that they wanted to cause Jews trouble, which is what non-Jews are always interested in. Knowing that when the owner saw what they did he would never agree to sell a book with such a title page, the non-Jewish workers must have taken all the books from the printing press and, at their own expense, sent them out to all the book sellers. All this could happen without the owner being aware because it was hol ha-moed and during this time the owner of the press wouldn’t dream of dropping by his shop (so much did he trust his workers), just like today none of us know any religious Jews who would ever consider going to work on hol ha-moed.
The title page of Va-Yakem Edut be-Yaakov, published in Prague five years after Chajes’ Derashah appeared, shows us that the non-Jewish workers must have once more, on hol ha-moed of course, surreptitiously inserted the same picture as a title page for a different book. I think everyone has to wonder, why didn’t the publisher learn anything from the first time these non-Jewish trouble makers played around with a Jewish printing press?
Another example of censorship on Otzar ha-Hokhmah is seen with the Venice 1574 edition of the Mishneh Torah. Here is the title page.
Here is how the second page looks, from volume 2 (as seen on hebrewbooks.org). The verse along the edges is from Psalm 45:12: “The king shall desire your beauty.”.
This edition was published in four volumes. In the copy on Otzar ha-Hokhmah, three of the four volumes contain the second page. Two of the pictures are significantly whited out, and in the second picture below you can see that they have whited out enough so that the reader will think he is looking at a man.
There are, to be sure, plenty of examples where the pictures appear without any censorship on Otzar ha-Hokhmah (and even with the examples I have given, it is not clear if Otzar ha-Hokhmah is responsible for the censorship or the book came to them this way). Here, for example, is the famous family crest of R. Abraham Menahem Rapa of Porto, which appears at the end of his Minhah Belulah.
S. has already pointed out that this picture was altered in a recent printing of the sefer.[18] Here is what the altered version looks like.
Michael Silber has noted that in Binyamin Shlomo Hamburger’s recent book Ha-Yeshiva be-Fiorda, the women have been turned into men, complete with beards![19]
Here is what the Encyclopaedia Judaica, s.v. Rapoport, writes:
The name Rapa originated in the German Rabe (Rappe in Middle High German), i.e., a raven. In order to distinguish themselves from other members of the Rapa family, the members of this family added the name of the town of Porto, and thus the name Rapoport was formed . . . The family escutcheon of Abraham Rapa of Porto shows a raven surmounted by two hands raised in blessing (indicating the family’s priestly descent).
Regarding the sefer Minhah Belulah, at the beginning of each book of the Pentateuch the following “immodest” picture also appears.
As far as I know, hebrewbooks.org has not censored any of the books that appear on the site. (We have previously discussed books that it refuses to put up.) A few years ago the Reich collection of reprints was added to hebrewbooks.org and these have all sorts of interesting title pages. Here is the title page of R. Samuel ben David Ha-Levi’s Nahalat Shivah.
The year is expressed as משיח בן דוד בא. This adds up to 427 (i.e., 5427), and is an allusion towards Shabbetai Zvi. The year 5427 corresponded to 1666-1667, and the convention normally would be to write 1667 (and this is the date given in the Harvard catalog). However, in this case I assume it is more accurate to give the date as 1666. We know that Shabbetai Zvi converted on September 15, 1666. By 1667 this information would have reached Amsterdam and the title page would no longer refer to him as the Messiah. Therefore, I think we can conclude that the book appeared after Rosh ha-Shanah of 1666, but before January 1, 1667. Nevertheless, it is noteworthy that if you look at the end of the book there is a comment by the typesetter from which we see that, despite the date on the title page, the book was not actually ready for publication until the beginning of 1668. In other words, the title page was not changed in the interim, despite Shabbetai Zvi’s apostasy.
Among the Reich reprints, here is another fascinating title page (actually the first of two title pages in this book). It is from R. Abraham ben Shabbetai’s Kehunat Avraham (Venice 1719).
Here is the author’s picture, that appears on the second page. He clearly is wearing a wig.
3. In the previous post I mentioned something I was told by R. Avraham Yosef, the son of R. Ovadiah. He is the chief rabbi of Holon and while a great talmid hakham, unlike his brothers R. Yitzhak and R. David he has not published very much. Here is his picture.
Like his father, R. Avraham is known for some controversial statements. He has also surprised people with his viewpoints. See here, for example, where he expressed his support for Livni becoming prime minister. I have found that he is very accessible and will answer any letter written to him. Since we are approaching Passover, let me share with readers the following.
From reading the works of R. Ovadiah Yosef,[20] I have always assumed that in his opinion even Ashkenazim living in Israel are obligated to follow R. Joseph Karo. Despite what R. Yitzhak states in his letter published below, I haven’t seen any convincing explanation as to why the Moroccans and the Yemenites should be obligated in this according to R. Ovadiah, but not the Ashkenazim. And yet R. Ovadiah does not say so openly, perhaps to avoid involving himself in controversy. He also doesn’t say that Ashkenazim should keep their practices in the Land of Israel, except for one issue, namely, kitniyot, where he is explicit that Ashkenazim are obligated to follow their tradition.[21] However, based on my assumptions from reading R. Ovadiah, I assumed that the obligation of kitniyot in the Land of Israel only applied to those who identified as Ashkenazim. If, on the other hand, someone wanted to “convert,” as it were, to Sephardi practice, he would no longer be obligated in kitniyot.
To test my theory, I wrote to three of R. Ovadiah’s sons, R. David, R. Yitzhak, and R. Avraham, asking if it was permissible for an Ashkenazi to adopt Sephardi practices in all areas, meaning that he would no longer have to avoid kitniyot. R. David never replied, but I did receive replies from R. Yitzhak and R. Avraham. Readers might recall how R. David and R. Yitzhak differed about what blessing should be recited over Bamba, and each claimed to have the support of their father. In the kitniyot case as well there is a dispute. R. Yitzhak wrote to me that an Ashkenazi, even in Israel, is bound to his communal practices. The only exception is if he is a baal teshuvah., In this case, he hasn’t yet adopted the Ashkenazic practices, and he can therefore “become Sephardi”. Here is R. Yitzhak’s letter (it was one letter, with two signatures).
However, R. Avraham has a different perspective, believing that he too is properly representing his father’s outlook (and what he writes is what I also assumed based on my own reading of R. Ovadiah). According to R. Avraham, an Ashkenazi in Israel (and only in Israel) is permitted to become Sephardi, בין לטוב ובין למוטב. Here is R. Avraham’s letter.
4. Rabbi Moshe Shamah’s commentary on the Torah has recently appeared. At over one thousand pages, it is titled Recalling the Covenant: A Contemporary Commentary on the Five Books of the Torah. In a future post I hope to deal in more detail with one of Shamah’s essays, but in the meantime I wanted to let readers know about the book’s appearance. Many volumes of Torah commentary appear each year, usually written in the same style. Shamah’s book is different. The sources used and the questions asked will be eye-opening for many. It is not derush and does not psychoanalyze biblical figures. Rather, Shamah’s book is high level Torah scholarship in the tradition of the great peshat commentators, both medieval and modern,. I also found it interesting that the book contains a blurb from the noted biblical scholar Gary Anderson (as well from Yaakov Elman, Barry Eichler, and Jack Sasson).
Just as I was about to send in this post I also received Rabbi Nathaniel Helfgot’s just published Mikra and Meaning: Studies in Bible and Its Interpretation. This is a collection of essays on different themes in Tanakh and is a good example of the Modern Orthodox revolution in the study of Bible. Just as the Rav commented that that it would be impossible today to (successfully) teach Talmud to students who are secularly educated if not for R. Chaim’s approach, something similar can be said regarding Tanakh. For those with a secular education, who have read great books, it is very difficult to connect to Tanakh without the new approach that has been developed in the last forty years or so. As R. Yoel Bin Nun puts in his preface to Helfgot’s book: “It is impossible to study Tanakh in the land of Israel as if we are still residing in Eastern Europe prior to the Holocaust.”[22]
[1] There are, to be sure, opposing passages. See e.g., Bamidbar Rabbah 10:17, where it records that Manoah stated: והנשים אינם בנות הוראה. This text is cited by a number of halakhists to show that women are not to issue halakhic rulings. Both R. Hayyim Hirschensohn, Malki ba-Kodesh, vol. 4 p. 104 and R. Yissachar Tamar, Alei Tamar, Zeraim, p. 151, reject drawing any conclusions from the passage. Both of them claim that one can’t rely on what Manoah said, as he was an am ha-aretz (see Berakhot 61a: מנוח עם הארץ היה). This is an interesting point, but I wonder if it has any validity. It obviously depends on how one is supposed to read Midrash. On the one hand, Manoah may have been an am ha-aretz, but the sage who put this expression in his mouth was not, and neither was the redactor of the text, so perhaps Manoah’s statement should indeed be seen as a rabbinic position. On the other hand, since it was put in the mouth of an am ha’aretz, perhaps it should be regarded as simply that, namely, an uninformed opinion.
It is interesting that the well-known author, R. Aaron Hyman, responded to Hirschensohn in Malki ba-Kodesh, vol. 6, p. 204. He criticized Hirschensohn for writing as if he believed that because the Midrash quoted a statement of Manoah, that the historical Manoah actually said this:
ומה שמביא חתנו הלשון מבמ”ר נשים אינן בנות הוראה, ורוצה אדוני לתלות יען שמנוח ע”ה הי’ אומר דבר זה, חס מלהזכיר שיאמין כבודו שבאמת מנוח אמר דבר זה, האם אמרו חז”ל מדברי נביאות או בקבלה, הלא אך בדרך דרש אמר הדרשן כן וכן והוא דברי הדרשן הי’ מי שהי’ אבל מדרש הוא ואדם גדול קבצם, וכן ידוע כל השקלא וטריא שהיה בין קרח ומשה בענין טלית שכלה תכלת והאלמנה והכבשה, זהו אך מליצה נשגבה אבל לא שבאמת היה כן.
See Hirschensohn’s reply, ibid., p. 209, that his intent was only that the Midrash, בדרך דרש, attributed words to Manoah.
[2] Another irony is that the halakhic textbook written by the most distinguished of these yoatzot turns out to be more stringent, and requires consultation with rabbis more often, than halakhic texts written by men. See Aviad Stollman’s review of Deena R. Zimmerman’s A Lifetime Companion to the Laws of Jewish Family Life in Meorot 6 (2007), p. 5. I can’t imagine that women think that there is an advantage in having halakhic works written by other women if these works actually reduce female autonomy in intimate hilkhot niddah matters and require more consultation with male rabbis.
With regard to calling the women yoatzot and not poskot, Stollman, p. 8, n. 20, believes that “this is merely a tribute to Orthodox political correctness.” Maybe someone who knows the situation better than I can comment on Stollman’s point. That is, are these women really giving halakhic decisions and merely “covering” themselves by using the politically correct term yoatzot?
Regarding Stollman, I should point out that he is an academic scholar, and in addition to articles has published a critical edition and commentary of Eruvin, ch. 10, Ha-Motze Tefillin (Jerusalem, 2008). He has also published a volume of responsa, Pele Yoetz (Jerusalem, 2011). Responsum no. 45 is, I think, unique in responsa literature. Stollman was asked if it is permitted to create Santa Claus dolls that sing Jingle Bells. He rules that it is permissible. If I’m not mistaken, Stollman is the first one since R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg to combine academic Talmud study with the writing of halakhic responsa.
Returning to yoatzot, I think many will find interesting that in Yemen and in some of the Sephardic world there was never a concept of asking a rabbi intimate niddah questions. This was because the women were embarrassed to do so, seeing it as “untzniusdik”. I mention this only because I have heard rabbis say that in truth there are no tzeniut issues with this, and women shouldn’t be embarrassed. They make it seem that it is only due to modern values that all of a sudden this sort of thing is uncomfortable for women. This is clearly not the case, as we see from what happened in the Yemenite and some of Sephardic worlds, hardly centers of modernity. (I am only speaking of the historical reality, not the wisdom of the Yemenite and Sephardic approaches, which usually meant that any doubt would be assumed to render the woman impure.) R. Yitzhak Shehebar, the Sephardic rav of Buenos Aires, writes as follows in his Yitzhak Yeranen, no. 95 (quoted in Beit Hillel, Tamuz 5769), p. 120:
ואשר לעניין מראות הדמים לא נהגנו בזה כלל, כי מעולם לא ראיתי להרבנים באר”צ [ארם צובה] שטפלו בזה, אך הנהיגו את הנשים שכל מראה הדומה למראית אדמומית שהוא טמא, זולתי אם יהיה כמראה לבן או ירוק שהוא טוהר.
Regarding Yemen, R. Yitzhak Ratsaby writes (Piskei Maharitz, vol. 3, section Be’erot Yitzhak, pp. 339-340):
אצלנו בק”ק תימן יע”א אין שואלין כלל לחכמים בעניין הכרת מראות הדמים, ובכל ספק הנשים מחזיקות עצמן טמאות ויושבות ז’ נקיים [ואפי’ לבעליהן נמנעות מלהראות כדי שלא יתגנו בעיניהן . . .] וכ”ה גם ברב ק”ק ספרדים יע”א . . . האידנא דהשאלה בדרך כלל היא רק לעיתים רחוקות, עי”ז נשתלשל הדבר שנמנעו מלשאול לגמרי מחמת בושתן היתירה וצניעותן המרובה כנודע
Ratsaby points out that this practice developed even though talmudic literature provides plenty of examples showing that in the days of the tannaim and amoraim the Sages did examine ketamim.
Regarding Yemen, see also R. Nachum Eliezer Rabinovitch, Siah Nahum, no. 60. In this responsum, Rabinovitch supports the institution of yoatzot and suggests that this practice, of turning to women in niddah matters, even existed in tannaitic times: כי לפנות לאשה חכמה אין חשש שמא תתגנה
In a note to this responsum, the editor provides further testimony about Yemen.
שמעתי עדות מחכם נאמן, שהיו מקומות בתימן בהם היו זקנות שהיו מוחזקות כבקיאות בעניני מראות, והנשים היו פונות אליהן, ומעולם לא ערער אדם על כך.
R. Moshe Maimon called my attention to the Meam Loez’s discussion of the laws of niddah, addressed to both men and women, and there is no mention there of bringing anything to the rabbi. This omission was rectified by R. Aryeh Kaplan, who in his translation (vol. 1, p. 136) adds: “When in doubt, a competent rabbi should be consulted.”
[3] Mishpetei Uziel, Hoshen Mishpat, no. 5.
[4] For sources on women deciding halakhic questions, see the three responsa in support of Sara Hurwitz’ being ordained as a “Maharat,” authored by Rabbis Yoel Bin-Nun, Daniel Sperber, and Joshua Maroof, available here.
[5] The Hafetz Hayyim, who was a “rabbi” if there ever was one, only received semikhah when he was 85 years old, and that was to satisfy a bureaucratic requirement. See Moshe Meir Yashar, He-Hafetz Hayyim (Tel Aviv, 1958), vol. 1, p. 19. According to R. Isaac Abarbanel, rabbinic ordination as currently practiced arose due to Christian influence. See Nahalat Avot, beginning of ch. 6:
אחרי בואי באיטאליאה מצאתי שנתפשט המנהג לסמוך אלו לאלו. וראיתי התחלתו בין האשכנזים כלם סומכים ונסמכים ורבנים. לא ידעתי מאין בא להם ההתר הזה אם לא שקנאו מדרכי הגוים העושים דוקטורי ויעשו גם הם.
[6] The title “rabbi” is indeed significant. This can be seen by the fact that when Sara Hurwitz was called Maharat there wasn’t any outcry, but when she was given the title “rabba” that is when the controversy really broke out, even though her job description didn’t change in the slightest. Does this mean that there was no objection to a woman functioning as a rabbi as long as she didn’t have the title? Only after she was renamed “rabba” did the RCA adopt a resolution rejecting the “recognition of women as members of the Orthodox rabbinate, regardless of the title.” Yet despite that resolution, there are synagogues where women are still serving, for all intents and purposes, as members of the rabbinate minus the title.
[7] Similar, though not identical, perspectives have recently been offered by Rabbis Norman Lamm, Michael Broyde and Shlomo Brody. See Broyde and Brody, “Orthodox Women Rabbis? Tentative Thoughts that Distinguish Between the Timely and the Timeless,” Hakirah 11 (Spring 2011), pp. 25-58. None of them reject the notion of Orthodox women rabbis at some time in the future. From speaking to many people, my own sense is that a majority of the Modern Orthodox community supports women rabbis (although not necessarily pulpit rabbis). When I say “support,” I mean if asked the question, the reply will be yes. But at the same time, the overwhelming majority of the Modern Orthodox world doesn’t care about this issue at all, and this includes women also. However, I believe that the minority will continue to push this issue, and when women rabbis become a reality, the Modern Orthodox will not reject these women or the congregations that employ them, as we can already see at present with Rabba Hurwitz and other female synagogue rabbis (in everything but name). I think this will happen before the natural development of female poskot who, as already indicated, will by definition be rabbis even without a formal ordination.
One more point that needs to be mentioned with regard to women rabbis is the issue of economic fairness. There are significant tax savings, due to parsonage, that an ordained clergyman receives from the government. While it is true that R. Michael Broyde has written that even women teaching Torah are eligible for this even under current tax laws (see here) and a prominent New York law has firm also expressed this opinion, many yeshiva day schools, acting under the advice of their accountants, have refused to adopt this policy. Some sort of formal ordination for women would settle the parsonage question, and give a financial boost to many of our underpaid teachers.
[8] There are, however, a number of very good articles on halakhah written by women. See e.g., Devorah Koren’s article in the recently published Milin Havivin 5 (2011), available here.
[9] Regarding Lieberman, I would like to call readers’ attention to what appears in the latest Yeshurun, vol. 25. On p. 21 the following footnote appears:
“How Much Greek in Jewish Palestine לגרסאות ופירוש תיבות אלה, ראה דברי הגר”ש ליברמן “
Here Lieberman is given the title due a gadol be-Yisrael. Perhaps this can be seen as making up for the censorship of references to Lieberman (and Louis Ginzberg) in an article by R. Mordechai Gifter that appeared in an earlier Yeshurun. See Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox, p. 32 n. 117. After my book appeared, I was informed by one of the editors of Yeshurun that the censorship of R. Gifter’s piece was carried out by the one who prepared the article for print, and the editors knew nothing about this and were upset when they learnt what had occurred.
On p. 632 of the new Yeshurun there is a letter from R. David Zvi Hillman to Prof. Shlomo Zalman Havlin in which he states the following: In the early volumes of the Encylopedia Talmudit Lieberman was referred to as ר”ש ליברמן, a point I noted in Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox. Yet American rabbis protested and insisted that he not be mentioned. These rabbis are identified with the Rabbinical Council of America: מהסתדרות הרבנים ר”ל המזרחניקים. In response to this, R. Zevin from that point on only mentioned the name of Lieberman’s books but not Lieberman himself. A Bar Ilan search reveals that vol. 13 is the last volume where ר”ש ליברמן is mentioned. (Vol. 15 was the last volume to appear in R. Zevin’s lifetime. See Zevin, Ishim ve-Shitot [Jerusalem, 2007], p. 40 [first pagination]).
Why would R. Zevin agree to this? The answer is obvious: money. The Mizrachi in America was an important source of funds for the Encyclopedia Talmudit.
[10] The term “rabbanit” was primarily used for the wife of a rabbi. See Robert Bonfil, Rabbis and Jewish Communities in Renaissance Italy, p. 77 n. 186. My point is only that it was also used for scholarly women.
[11] The continuation of the shiur is also of great interest, as he explains that if one ends up in a hotel on Shabbat and sees that the lights in the hall go one every time one leaves one’s room, it is still permissible to walk in the hallway and it is not even regarded as a pesik reisha.
[12] See the biography and picture of her here. For pictures of Flora and her family, see also here.
[13] Rivka bat Meir of Prague (died 1605) was another learned woman who was called “rabbanit”, see Frauke von Rohden, ed. Meneket Rivkah (Philadelphia, 2009), pp. 6-7. Rivka authored the Yiddish mussar work Meineket Rivka, published in Prague, 1609. On the title page she is referred to as הרבנית הדרשנית . (In the Altneuschul memorial book it also says that she preached. See Von Rohden, p. 6) Here is the first page of the book, where she is again referred to as “rabbanit”.
Lest anyone misunderstand, I must stress that Rivka only served as a rabbi and preacher for other women, and was therefore not a prototype for twenty-first century women rabbis. My point in referring to her is to highlight the use of the term “rabbanit” as designating a learned woman.
[14] Teshuvot Pesakim u-Minhagim, vol. 2, ed. Kahana, nos. 155-156.
[15] See Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisrael, vol. 1, pp. 65-66.
[16] I originally wrote Levinsohn, and thank a helpful reader for the correction. Loewisohn’s essay originally appeared in his posthumously published Mehkerei Lashon (Vilna, 1849).
[17] Incidentally, the note as it appears in the Vilna Mishnah has also been altered from what appears in the original work. In the original it states אשר אינם על טהרת לשון עבר, and in order that people understand what Loewisohn was saying, these words were altered to read: אשר המה כפי תכונת לשון הארמי
[18] See here.
[19] See here. As one of the commenters pointed out to this post, the women appear to be mermaids. He helpfully provided this link.
[20] For my essay on R. Ovadiah, see here.
[21] See Yabia Omer, vol. 5, Orah Hayyim no. 37, Yehaveh Da’at, vol. 1, no. 9, vol. 5 no. 32.
[22] R. Aharon Lichtenstein also has a preface to the book, where his ambivalence about the new approach comes through very clearly. This short essay deserves its own analysis.



Upcoming Auction Review

Upcoming Auction Review:
By Dan Rabinowitz and Eliezer
Brodt
In
recent years a number of auction houses specializing in Hebrew books,
manuscripts and ephemera have opened.  In
some instances, these have displaced and surpassed more well-established houses
and certainly provide more opportunities for the collector. A new house, Legacy Auctions, is holding its first
auction on April 13. One can view their complete catalog here
[There is also a link to a PDF if one scrolls down here.] As we have done in the past, we
wanted to highlight some of the available items.
Lot
23 is R. Samuel David Luzzato’s, (Shadal), the Italian biblical scholar and
relative of R Moses Hayyim Luzzato (Ramchal), translation and commentary to
the Torah, published in 1871-76 (lot 23). While Shadal modeled his edition
based upon Mendelshon’s Pentateuch, unlike Mendelsshon’s version that translates the
Torah in German using Hebrew characters, Shadal’s contains an Italian
translation, in Latin characters.  In
both Mendelsshon and Shadal’s works the accompanying commentary is in
Hebrew.  Ironically, Shadal, in the
introduction takes a much more aggressive stance regarding the ability to
reinterpret biblical texts contrary to established conventions while
Mendelsshon’s introduction defends traditional positions, most notably the
positon that the Zohar dates to the 2nd century and was authored by
R. Shimon bar Yochai.  Mendelsshon’s
version was banned which never occurred with Shadal’s version. Worth mentioning
is that Shadal’s work was just reprinted with much new material from
manuscripts [for a sample email Eliezerbrodt@gmail.com]
Ha-Torah ve-Hochmah
by R. Zechariah Isaiah Jolles
(lot 28) [See here]
is interesting for a number of reasons – it includes a portrait of the author –
and some are discussed in the lot’s descriptions, but others include his work Megilah Nikrat. In an attempt to answer
the “question” why the generic word “megilah” refers to Esther even though there
are other megilot, he posits that the entire story of Esther can be told
using the acrostic of Mem, gimil, lamed,
heh
, and then proceeds to do so. Especially noteworthy is his mentioning of
a custom he attributes to the Gra, a repetition of a “suspect” word in Tanach, le-hasmeid (vev) le-harog in Megilat
Esther.  There are numerous words that we
are unsure of their pronunciation yet, we never repeat them.  Indeed, the custom he records, and its
expanded form of repeating zekher/zekher, is a very late custom
as this book wasn’t published in 1913, and thus evidences the modernish basis of the custom.  
Lot
43-44 are two books regarding the Cleves Get controversy, both of which
belonged to R. Ruderman the late Rosh Yeshiva of Ner Israel. A number of
books in this auction come from his collection, which evidence a very eclectic
scope.  This is somewhat ironic in
light of the alleged tale that at Ner Israel, even the Abrarbanel’s commentary was kept under
lock and key. (Many also bear the stamp of R. Ruderman’s son-in-law, R. Yaakov
Weinberg.)
Returning
to the Get of Cleves controversy.  The
bet din of Cleves accepted a get from
a husband whose sanity was questioned.  A
get requires awareness and insanity
void the get. Another bet din,
Frankfort, however, questioned the validity of that annulment. Because
questioning the ruling of another bet din runs afoul of the accepted ruling of
Rabbenu Tam, this immediately escalated into a major battle with each side
publishing books justifying their respective positions.  The Cleves’ Rabbi, Israel Lipchitz, published
Or Yisrael, defending his position
and his work was subject to censorship – mainly to excise the rulings of others
who agreed with him.  In this particular
copy other passages critical of some rabbis have been crossed out.   And, while the Cleves controversy occurred
in the late 18th century, this issue is far from settled.  Regularly, (indeed, as recently as the past
six months) courts, and sometimes just individuals, attack the divorce ruling
of their sister courts.  Although,
depending upon the circumstances, the original courts, rather than defending
themselves as the Frankfort court did, do not defend or even recant their
original rulings.
Another
work that touches on censorship, although there is nothing controversial in the
book, is R. Hutner’s Torat Ha-Nazir
(lot 49).  This is first edition of the
book, Kovno, 1932, in paperback, and includes the approbation of R. Kook, among
others.  And, like other books containing
his approbation, in reprints of Torat
ha-Nazir
the approbation does not appear. 
Unlike other examples, however, in this instance it was not only R.
Kook’s approbation depending upon which reprint of Torat ha-Nazir, either all the approbations are missing or all the
ones on the page that R. Kook’s appears. For other examples of censorship of R.
Kook, see here.
The
first edition of the Vilna Goan’s commentary on Shulchan Orach Yoreh De’ah (lot 92) is among the many sifrei ha-Gra offered.  The first edition of the Shulchan Orach is
unique not only being the first time his commentary was published but also because
of the format.  Unlike, the Ba’al
haTanya, who successfully began the  publishing of his commentary during his lifetime, the
Gra’s commentary was left to his sons to publish.  By this time, however, the format of the Shulchan Orach had been standardized
with the main body in the middle of the page and, depending upon the volume,
two commentaries on surrounding it with a handful of others filling the
page.  Adding the Gra’s commentary posed
a problem, where on the page should it be? If the regular layout was retained,
the Gra’s commentary would be relegated to the bottom of the page, something
that was unconscionable to some.  Thus,
in this volume, Yoreh Deah, (the
Gra’s commentary to Shulchan Orach
wasn’t published at once, the final volumes on Hoshen Mishpat were not published until 1866), removes the standard
commentaries of the Shach and Taz, and only the Gra’s comments and
that of his ancestor, the Be’ar ha-Goleh
appear.  Apparently the removal of the
standard commentaries led to a minor insurrection and in the middle of the
volume on Even ha-Ezer they were
restored. Consequently, up to siman
25, the format of just the Gra appears and beyond that the regular commentaries
were restored.  Apparently R. Hayim
Volhzhin had to approve of moving the Gra’s comments to “below the fold,” for
this to occur. 
In
the history of the Hebrew book, one of the greatest authors (in terms of his
literary output alone) and bibliographers is R. Hayim Yosef David Azulai,
Hida.  Lot 136, is his commentary on Horayos and some responsum, Sha’ar Yosef.  But this copy was a presentation copy and
contains a dedication from Hida, in his hand, to “the great scholar and friend
R. Shmayah Seryannu.”
One
of the unique representations of Aaron the High Priest appears on the
frontispiece of Ma’aseh Rokeach,
Venice, 1742 (lot 147).  Aaron is
carrying a slaughter knife.  Beyond the
frontispiece, the work itself is important as it contains Rambam’s comments
from manuscript that were recorded by his son, Abraham.
Another unique item
is Ahavat Dovid (lot
18) from R. Eleazar Fleckeles (see here)
which is series of derashot he gave against Shabbatai Tzvi and Jacob
Frank. In general, throughout R. Fleckeles
writings, there are interesting statements about Kabbalah and the Zohar
especially, in this work he prints a letter from R. Naftali Hertz Wessley which
says: 

כי שמעתי מפי הגאון המקובל הגדול שהי’ ידוע הזוהר וכל ספרי
האר”י ז”ל בעל פה הוא הרב ר’ יהונתן אייבשיטץ זצ”ל שהיה
אומר לשומעי דבריו בעיני הקבלה כשראה שהם מפקפקים בהם ואמר אם לא תאמינו אין בכך
כלום כי אין אלו מעיקרי אמונתנו, וכן היה אומר לאלו המביאים הקדמות מדברי קבלה
לישב איזה גמרא או מדרש לא חפצתי בזאת ומה חדוש על פי קבלה תוכל ליישב מה שתרצה
אמור לי הפשט הברור על ידי נגלה ואז אודך וכל זה אמת… 

This letter is
censored out of some of the editions of this work See Marc Shapiro, Changing
the Immutable
, p. 220.
Also worth
mentioning is his description of R. Yeshaya Pick in this work:
 
Some other first editions worth
mentioning are, Minchas Chinuch published anonymously in 1869 (lot 35), and
Nefesh HaChaim, Vilna 1824 (lot 86).
There
are many other noteworthy lots, including one incunabula (lot 17), and many
letters and other ephemera related to important pre-Holocaust Yeshivot,
including the Mir and Telshe and letters from R. Hayyim Heller, R. Kook,
Seridei Eish, R. Mordechai Banet. 
Hopefully this is just the first of many auctions for Legacy.



mikhtav berakha from Rav Avraham Shapira to Rav Yitzchak Dadon’s Atchalta Hee

As mentioned at the Michtavim blog, forty-year-old Rav Yitzchak Dadon, shlita, was the first to shoot at the terrorist following the massacre last week at Yeshivat Mercaz Ha-Rav in Jerusalem. Rav Dadon studied for many years at Yeshivat Mercaz Ha-Rav and is the author of over a half-dozen seforim, including the very-celebrated and landmark two-volume set, Atchalta Hee (2005 and 2007), on the relationship between Zionism of religious leaders from the Ashkenaz and Sefaradic communities to Zionism and the establishment of the State of Israel, as well as an excellently detailed-survey (in both volumes) of poskim of earlier generations who have dealt with the related issue of Geulah be-Derekh ha-Teva in their own writings.

See below for the very-admiring mikhtav berakha from former chief rabbi of the State of Israel and Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Mercaz Ha-Rav, the late Rav Avraham Shapira zt”l, to Rav Dadon’s Atchalta Hee, available below. (Copies of Atchalta Hee are available from Biegeleisen in Boro Park 718-436-1165.)

As I wrote at the Michtavim blog:

What a Kiddush Hashem it is, and praiseworthy is Rav Yitzchak Dadon and all other talmidei hakhamim in the yeshivot Hesder who are not only tremendous Torah scholars like David HaMelech, but are also similarly able to protect Am Yisrael and destroy our enemies when necessary.




The Pros and Cons of Making Noise When Haman’s Name is Mentioned: A historical perspective (updated)

The Pros and Cons of Making Noise
When Haman’s Name is Mentioned: A historical perspective (updated)
By:
Eliezer Brodt
Severalweeks before Purim, one can already see children of various ages playing with cap guns and other loud noisemakers. All of this is done in the spirit of preparing for the laining of the Megillah and the noise that will be made whenever the name of Haman is mentioned—sort of like reviewing the halachos of Yom Tov 30 days before the chag!
On a more serious note, what are the reasons for the minhag of “banging” whenever the name of Haman is said? In this article I will try to trace some of the sources and their various aspects.[1] This post first appeared last year as an article in Ami Magazine; the current version contains many additions to that article. A much more expanded version of this article will appear in Hebrew (IY”H) in the future.
According to the Yerushalmi, one should say “arur Haman ubanav, Haman and his children should be cursed, but it does not specify when. It then mentions that R’ Yonasan would curse Nevuchadnetzar after he was mentioned during the Megillah.[2] However, in Masechtas Sofrim, where this is also brought down, it says that “arur Haman ubanuv” was said after the Megillah was read. From this it is clear that the reason for saying this is the pasuk in Mishlei, that when one mentions the name of a tzaddik he should say “zecher tzaddik livrachah” and “shem reshaim yirkav” whenever an evil person is mentioned.[3]  Today, the practice is to say “arur Haman ubanav after the Megillah, during the piyyut Asher Heini[4], and specifically when its most famous stanza is recited, Shoshanas Yaakov.[5] In fact, this might be what the Gemara is referring to when it says one should be intoxicated to the point of not knowing the difference between “arur Haman” and “baruch Mordechai.”[6]
The Manhig writes that in Spain the custom was to say “arur Haman baruch Mordechai” after the Megillah reading. The children in France and Provence had a custom to write Haman’s name on the bottom of rocks and bang them together in fulfillment of ““shem reshaim yirkav.”[7] From this source it would appear that this was done specifically by children and each and every time Haman’s name was mentioned.
Rav Aharon Hakohen Miluneil (d. 1330) in his work Orchos Chaim adds that the children of France and Provence did this for the additional reason of fulfilling “macho timcheh es zecher Amalek,” but does not specify when this was done. It appears that this was simply a custom that was done on Purim although not necessarily during the Megillah, reading. [8]
The Avudraham mentions the custom from the Manhig and adds that there is a source in the Midrash saying that one should erase Amalek from wood and stones.[9]
The Sefer HaAsufot cites another Midrash (which we don’t have) to show that the children banged on the wall when Haman’s name was mentioned.[10]  The Shibolei Haleket writes that some people in Italy had the custom of stamping their feet, banging stones and breaking pots, after which everyone would get up and thank Hashem for saving the nation;[11] he writes that while it is not obligatory, it is a good custom. It appears that this was done by everyone, not only the children.
From the Sefer Hatadir, it appears that “children who were zealous to do mitzvos” would break pots when Haman and Zeresh were mentioned.[12] It seems from both of these Italian sources that it was not done during the Megillah reading, but neither gives a reason for this custom.
In yet another Italian source, the Machzor Kiminhag Roma printed by Soncino in 1485-1486, we find that they would
smash pots when the piyyut was recited after the Megillah, but during the Megillah laining they would stamp their feet, clap
their hands and make other sounds. It’s also clear that this was done by everyone.[13]
A bit later, R’ Yehudah Aryeh Modena (1571-1648) wrote about Italy that some would bang when Haman’s name was said.[14]
R’ Zalman of St. Goar, in his work Sefer Maharil, writes that he observed that his Rebbe, the Maharil, did not bang when Haman’s name was said.[15] The Rama brings this down in his Darchei Moshe.[16] Various Acharonim have different explanations as to why the Maharil did not bang.[17] There is, however, a manuscript written by the Maharil’s son saying that his
father did indeed bang when Haman’s name was mentioned.[18]
R’ Avraham Saba writes that some have the custom to bang two stones together, based on the words “vehayah im bin hakos harasha,” as the final letters of the first three words spell Haman[19]. This remez is also brought by the Sifsei Kohen Al Hatorah[20], Minchah Beilulah[21], Levush[22] and Mateh Moshe.[23]
The Rama writes that there was custom among children to make a picture of Haman or write his name on wood or rocks
and erase them in fulfillment of “macho timcheh” and “shem reshaim yirkav.” From this they developed the custom of banging during the Megillah reading, and one should not abolish or belittle any custom because there was a good reason for it being established.[24] In Darchei Moshe he writes that his source is from the Manhig as quoted by the Avudraham.
In the very popular Yiddish book by R’ Shimon Ginsburg, first printed in 1590, we find the custom of the children “banging”[25]. Similarly, the Levush also writes that we should keep this custom, as does the Magen Avraham.[26] The Levush then says that when Haman’s name is mentioned one should actually say “shem reshaim yirkav”[27]. At first glance this appears to be a big chiddush, as talking during the Megillah reading is a hefsek. The Mishnah Berurah[28] and Rav Moshe Feinstein conclude that one should not say this during the Megillah.[29] However, after quoting the Levush, the Magen Avraham writes “see Midrash Rabbah about Nevuchadnetzar”.[30] The Magan Avrhom is referring to the Medrash we quoted in the beginning, of Esther which says R’ Yonasan would curse Nebucadnetzar after it was mentioned during the Megilah. So from this Medrash we see clearly that during  the Megilah reading he would say this and he would not wait for after the Megilah. This supports the Levush.[31]
R’ Avraham Klozner writes that the reason children bang rocks together is that they do not know how to say “shem reshaim yirkav, Whereas the adults say that during the Megillah”.[32] The anonymous comments, in Sefer Haminhagim of Rav Isaac Tirina writes the same.[33]
Those Opposed to “Banging”
R’ Binyamin Halevi writes in the Machzor Maagalei Tzedek (first printed in 1550) that he is opposed to these customs,
as well as the burning of a mock Haman in effigy. Not only do they cause a great disturbance in shul, but we live among non-Jews who are constantly looking for reasons to attack us. In other words, these minhagim are dangerous and should be abolished, as was done with other customs.[34]
To illustrate how these things can get out of control, R’ Eliyahu Capsili describes an incident that occurred in Crete in 1545 when a firecracker went off and caused utter pandemonium in shul. A takanah was subsequently made forbidding this kind of thing on Purim.[35]
R’ Avrohom Chaim Naeh writes about Yerushalayim in the 1940’s :
הרמ”א כתב על מנהג הכאת המן דאין לבטל שום מנהג… אבל המנהג היה להכות בעצים, ויומא כי האדינא חידשו להם הילדים מנהג חדש שמכין עם כדור פולווער [חומר נפץ], שנשמע קול יריה והפולווער הזה מוציא עשן מסריח ומחניק, עד שאי אפשר כלל לעמוד בבית הכנסת. העשן נכנס בגרון הקורא, וקולו נעשה צרוד, ובקושי אפשר לו להמשיך הקריאה, וכן הצבור סובלים מחוסר אויר, ומצפים מתי יגמרו הקריאה. בודאי חובה לעקור המנהג של היריות שעת הקריאה, דזה אינו מנהג וותיקין ועל דבר זה צריך לעמוד לפני הקריאה בכל תוקף, ולהוציא מידם כלי היריות [קצות השלחן, הערות למעשה, עמ’ קמו אות ה].
Another reason to refrain from banging is found in the Shelah Hakadosh, which is that it simply makes too much noise and people can’t fulfill the obligation to hear the Megillah.[36] The Pri Megadim writes something similar, that it confuses people.[37]
Another early source opposed to banging R’ Shmuel Portaleone (1570-1648).[38] One of his concerns was that the non-Jews would make fun of us.
The Seder Hayom (1599) writes that it’s not proper to make a ruckus in shul but if it’s being done by small children there’s no need to be concerned, due to simchas hayom.[39]
In Egypt and in London[40] (1783) they abolished the noisemaking completely.[41] Rabbi Avraham Levinson in Mekorei Haminhaghim[42] and R’ Ovadiah Yosef[43] were also for abolishing it. Similarly, Rav Yosef Henkin writes that the banging should be stopped during the actual Megillah laining.[44]
A Compromise
Rabbi Chaim Benveniste (1603-1673) in his work Sheyarei Knesses Hagedolah writes that in Izmir the chazzan would say the names of Haman and his children very loudly so the children would hear it and bang on the floor;[45] this was the intention of the Orchos Chaim. The banging was only done this one time during the Megillah. However, it’s worth pointing out that eventually the banging was abolished completely in Izmir.[46]
Rabbi Yuzpeh Shamash (1604-1678) of Worms writes that noise was made only when the Haman of “asseres bnei Haman” was said.[47] The Mekor Chaim writes the same but adds that woman and children did stamp their feet when Haman’s name was mentioned.[48] The Ben Ish Chai writes that the community would bang when “asseres bnei Haman” was read in Bagdad, but he himself would stamp with his foot after the first and last Haman.[49]
R’ Avrhom Chaim Naeh writes:
בעיה”ק חברון ת”ו, שהצבור היו אומרים עשרת בני המן לפני שהבעל קורא אומרם, ובזמן זה היו התינוקות מכים, ואחר כך אומרם הקורא מתוך המגילה. ויש לומר, דמשום זה זכו עשרת בני המן שהציבור יקרא אותם תחלה, כדי שיוכלו לספוג המכות, דבזמן שהקורא אומרם אי אפשר להכות כיון שצריך לאמרם בנשימה אחת [קצות השולחן, הערות למעשה, עמ’ קמו].
We find a few sources showing that attempts were made to abolish the minhag but for the most part they were unsuccessful.
In her memoirs, Pauline Wengeroff (b. 1833 in Minsk) wrote: “Whenever the hateful name of Haman was heard the men stamped their feet and the young people made an uproar with shrill graggers. My father was irritated by this and forbade it but it was of no use; every year people did it again”.[50] Her father was R’ Epstein, a talmid of R’ Dovid Tevel, author of Nachalas
Dovid
who was a talmid of R’ Chaim Volozhiner.[51]
R’ Yosef Ginsburg writes that it best to bang only when Haman’s name is mentioned with his father’s, as done in communities in Lita and Rasin.[52]
In a memoir written describing Kovno the author relates how a local talmid chacham unsuccessfully tried to convince the children not to throw firecrackers during the Megillah laining.[53]
In a letter written in Telz in 1915 R’ Avraham Eliyhau Kaplan notes that Purim has passed and the children have already made their disturbances with their graggers.[54]
According to the Orach Hashulchan, one should make sure that the noise does not get out of control; otherwise it is preferable to hear the Megillah at home with a minyan.[55]
Sources that they did bang
Still, it appears that for the most part, the minhag remained.
R’ Yair Chaim Bachrach writes:
כלי נקישה שעושין לתינוקות לנקש כמו בפורים יזהר גדול מלטלטלו, אבל ביד התינוקות אין מוחין, כ”ש כשחל פורים ביום א’ כשהולכין בערב לבה”כ [מקור חיים, סי’ שמג]
This appears to be some sort of noise maker.
R’ Yakov Emden brings down that his father the Chacham Tzvi used to bang with his feet when Haman’s name was said during the Megilah.[56]
In the cynical, anonymous, satire Ketav Yosher, first printed in 1794 (and attributed to Saul Berlin), we find one of the Minhaghim he makes fun of is the banging by Haman.[57]
In 1824 a parody called the Sefer Hakundos (trickster) was printed in Vilna. This parody was written by a maskil as a vicious attack on the Jews of the time poking fun at many things. The plus about this parody is we get a very interesting glimpse into Jewish life in those days.[58] When discussing Purim he writes “He (the trickster) must bang with all his strength for a long time every time Haman’s name is mentioned until he is either thrown out or quieted down. If he gets thrown out due to his long
banging even better and he must scream welcome when Haman’s name is said”.
See here what On the Main line brings about New York in 1841.
In a very informative Memoir describing life in Lithuania in the 1880’s the author describes: “We all went to the Synagogue equipped with our Haman Dreiers… and each time the reader of the Megillah… mentioned the name haman the nosie of the rattles was deafening”.[59]
In a diary describing Russia in the 1890s the author writes: “At every mention of Haman’s name there are general cries while the children howl and make as much noise as possible with graggers…the adults beat their pews with sticks as a token of their desire to beat Haman”.[60]
S. Ansky writes in his memoirs of World War One: “On Purim I went to Synagogue to hear the reading of the book of Esther. At the the mention of Haman’s name the children traditionally make noise say by clapping but when these children tried to clap, though very softly, their frightened parents hastily shushed them. Why didn’t they let the children make noise? I asked somebody afterword. Someone might object he stammered. Try and prove that they meant the ancient Haman and not the present one.”[61]
R’ Elayshiv, zt”l, never stopped the crowd from making noise but he himself did not.[62]
Jews in the Eyes of Gentiles
Many of sources of information about how various minhaghim were observed come from non-Jews or meshumadim, which must obviously be used with caution because some of these writers were tendentious or may not have fully understood what they observed or heard of even if they tried to be objective. These accounts however seem sound.
Johannes Buxtorf (1564-1629) writes in his Synagoga Judaica: ” There is also the custom that as often as the name of Haman is mentioned the young Jews knock him, and there is a great commotion. They used to have two stones, on one of which was written “Haman,” and they knocked them together until the name had disappeared, and they said and called out: Jimmach Schmo, his name shall be blotted out, or, Schem reschaim jirkabh, the name of the wicked shall rot. Arur Haman, cursed be Haman…”.[63]
In a letter written by John Greenhalgh in 1662 to a minister friend of his we find the following description of his visit to a shul: “My Rabbi invited me afterward to come and see the feast of Purim which they kept he said for the deliverance from Haman’s conspiracy mentioned in the Book of Esther in which they use great knocking and stamping when Haman is named”.[64]
In the Present State of the Jews (1675) Lancelot Addison writes: “Both the women and children…at the naming of Haman make a hideous noise with their hands and stamping with their feet.”
Johann Eisenmenger (1654-1704) writes that “the boys… clench their fists and strike them together, and hissing at the name of Haman make a mighty noise”.[65]
In the Ceremonies of the Present Jews (1728) we find: “They clap their hands or beat the benches to signify that they curse [Haman]”.[66]
In the book Religion, Ceremonies and Prayers of the Jews the pseudonymous Gamaliel Ben Pedazhur (1738) writes: “All the Jews, young and old, stamp their feet on the floor… the children generally have hammers with them at the synagogue… this
is done by way of rendering [Haman’s] memory as obnoxious as they can.”
Hyam Isaacs in Ceremonies Customs Rites and Traditions of the Jews, first printed in 1794, writes (second edition, 1836, p. 89): “and as often as the reader mentions the name Haman… it is customary for the children, who have little wooden hammers to
knock against the wall as a memorial that they should endeavor to destroy the whole seed of Amalek”.
 In his notes, a Christian traveler describes the events of a visit of his in a shul in Jerusalem, he also writes how the kids would make noise with graggers whenever haman’s name was said and the adults would bag with their feet or sticks.[67]
Reasons for this Custom
What follows from all this is that according to some Rishonim it ties specifically to Shem Rishoim Yirkav whereas others tie it to Mochoh Timcha Es Zeicher Amalek. According to some it was done specifically by the children; according to others it was also
done by adults. Some sources report it as being done after the Megilah reading; others say it was done during the Megilah reading.
The Rama (S.A. 690:17), after bringing some of the earlier sources for this custom, writes that one should not abolish or make fun of any custom because there was a good reason for its establishment.
It is interesting that the Rama, who brings many customs throughout his work, specifically chose this case to spell out this rule.[68] Two, the Magan Avrohom specifically here (690:22) has a lengthy discussion as to various “halachos” of Minhaghim. The question is, why?
Throughout history there were many who were against the “banging of Haman”. So the question is, what lies behind this Minhag. If we can understand that then perhaps we can better understand the Rama and Magan Avrohom.
To backtrack a bit, the Gemara in Sanhedrin (64b) mentions something about jumping on Purim “kmashvarta d’puria.” R’ Nissim Gaon and Rashi understand this to be referring to fires that the children made to jump through on Purim. But the Aruch says that it refers to a minhag to make an effigy of Haman that the children would hang from the roofs and burn on Purim, dancing and singing around it.[69] This is mentioned by others such as such as the Orchos Chaim[70] and Avudraham[71] as well as in Mesechtas Purim by R. Kalonymus ben Kalonymus (1286-1328).
Many have also noted that in the year 408 (!) a law was passed banning the Jewish custom of burning an effigy of
Haman on a gallows in the form of a cross.[72]
In Yemen they did not “bang” but fashioned a man out wood, dressed him up and dragged him around the whole day before hanging him in effigy.[73] The same was done in Baghdad[74] and other communities.[75]
Another minhag related to all this; R’ Tzvi Hirsch Koidonover in his classic work Kav Hayashar brings from his Rebbe R’ Yosef MeDubnov that R’ Heschel[76] (known as the Rebbe R’ Heshel) had a custom when he tested out his writing instrument he used to write either the name Haman or Amalek and then he would erase it to “fulfil” Mocho Timcha Es Zeicher Amalek.[77]
The significance of this source is this work was first printed in 1705-1706 in both Hebrew and Yiddish and was printed over eighty times! It was extremely popular amongst all kinds of readers so this custom of R’ Heschel was very famous.
An additional reason for the widespread popularity of this custom was that the Sefer Zechirah from R’ Zecariah Simnar also brings it, first printed in 1709.[78] This work was extremely popular in its time and was printed over 40 times.
It appears that the custom has to do with both Shem Rishoim Yirkav and Mochoh Timcha Es Zeicher Amalek.
But why did they do this?
What follows is an adaptation of Shut Mili D’avos (3:13) by R’ Yisroel Margolis Yafeh, a talmid of the Chasam Sofer, 9 with some additions and elaboration):
The Torah enjoins us to remember what Amalek did to us. The question is how do we go about doing this, and how often do we need to? The Arizal had a custom to say it every day.[79] What is behind this? It’s to remind us how Amalek set out to completely destroy us. But it also represents our other enemies throughout time, even if they are not direct descendants of Amalek.
The Chinuch writes that the reason for this mitzvah is to impress upon us that whoever oppresses us is hated by Hashem and that their punishment is commensurate with their wrongdoing.[80] Doing an action helps us remember. The banging is to help us remember that part of what we are doing is Mocho Timcha Es Zeicher Amalek, when we read the Megilah. Furthermore it takes time to read the Megilah so to constantly remind us, we bang. It’s also to keep us awake during the leining,[81] but even more so, writes R’ Margolis Yaffe, that similar to Pesach where we do many things for the children’s sake, on Purim as well the children were also saved from this decree of Haman. To get them to learn and remember about Purim we do all this, i.e. have them bang etc. Therefore it is not considered a Hefsek to bang or say Shem Rishoim Yirkav.
In various Rishonim we find a custom to say certain Pisukim of the Megilah out loud. The reason given is that it adds to the Simcha[82] while  some add to this that it’s specifically for the children.[83]
On Rosh Hashonah we have a custom to eat various fruits and say Tefilos. Many ask why we do this. Numerous Achronim,[84] when explaining this Minhag point to a Ramban[85] who writes that when an action is done down here it has an affect ‘upstairs’ causing something on earth to happen. To illustrate this a bit better this Ramban is used to explain numerous issues. There is a custom amongst some that when they say Poseach Es Yodecha during Ashrei, where one is supposed to have in mind about asking Hashem for parnasha, they keep their hands open to “receive” the parnasa.[86]
When an action is done ‘down here’ it has an affect ‘upstairs’, thereby causing something to happen in the physical world.[87] When we make noise when Haman’s name is mentioned, it “triggers” Hashem to destroy Amalek and our other enemies. This, R’ Dovid Pardo in his work on the Sifrei writes, is what is behind this Mitzvah of “Remembering what Amalek did to us” and why some say it daily.[88]
Moreover, when R’ Yehudah Hachasid was asked why we bang on the walls when Haman is mentioned, he answered that they do the same thing in gehinom.[89]
Connected to all this is the second reason brought for banging by Haman which is Shem Rishoim Yirkav. The Nezer Hakodesh explains that when evil people are cursed it has a great effect on their punishments in gehinom[90].  According to some this lies behind the reason when referring to Yoshkah we say Yeshu (Yud-Shin-Vav) as it’s the abbreviation of Yemoch shemo Vizichro[91]. With this we can easily understand its connection to Haman and the banging by Haman, all of the above explanations lie behind the custom.
R’ Eliezer Hakalir even wrote a piyyut for Parshas Zachor in which one says “yimach shemo vezichro” after every (other) stanza.[92]
Another reason is found in the Kaf Naki. He writes that we find Jews, children and adults, from all over, bang with sticks and stones for Haman as if he is still alive. He writes that although the Goyim mock us for this, there is a sound reason for all the commotion. The reason is to remind us that Haman and other enemies were destroyed by Hashem, therefore we bang and make a big deal to remind us of this fact and so that the children will learn that if another enemy rises against us, he too will be destroyed.[93]
Perhaps with all this we can understand why the Rama wrote about Minhaghim not to make fun of them; to teach us that even though it appears to not make sense to us, there is more to the story.
[1]The first large collection of sources on this subject was printed by Yom Tov Lewnsky, Keisad Hekahu Es Haman Betufuzos Yisroel, 1947, 89 pp. For other useful collections on this topic see; Rabbi Avrohom Levinson, Mekorei Ha-Minhaghim, Siman 62; R’ Shem Tov Gagin, Keser Shem Tov, 2, pp. 542-545; S. Ashkenazi, Dor Dor Uminhagahv, pp. 98-104; Rabbi Gedaliah Oberlander, Minhag Avosenu Beydenu, 2, pp. 307-324; Rabbi Tuviah Freund, Moadim Li-Simcha, 3, pp. 299-323; Pardes Eliezer, (Purim) pp. 186- 252; Rabbi Gur-Aryeh, Chikrei Minhaghim,1, pp. 218-222; Rabbi Rabinowitz,  Iyuni Halachot, 3,pp.
488-515; Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisroel, 3, pp. 156-159; 4, pp. 331-333; 6, pp. 242-246; Ibid, Keisad Mackim Es Haman, 47
pp. See also M. Reuter, The Smiting of Haman in the Material Culture of Ashkenzai Communities: Developments in Europe and the Revitalized Jewish Culture in Israel- Tradition and Innovation, (PhD Hebrew University 2004) (Heb.).
Another important work that was very helpful for this topic is Eliot Horowitz, Reckless Rites, Princeton 2006. I hope to deal with all this more in depth in the future.
[2]  Yerushalmi, Megillah, 3:7. See the comments of the Korban HaEdah; Shiurei Korban; R’ Eliyahu Hacohen, Midrash Eliyhau, 89b; R’ Shlomo Kluger, Chochmas Shlomo, 690. See also R’ Ratner, Ahavas Tzion Vi-Yerushlayim, Megillah pp. 77-78; S. Abramson, Rav Nissim Gaon, p. 279; R’ Yissachar Tamar, Alei Tamar, Megillah, pp. 142-144; R’ Palagi, Yafeh Li-Lev, 690:6-7.
[3]  Mesechtas Sofrim, 14:6-7. See the Mikra Sofrim (on Mesechtas Sofrim), and the sources in the Higger edition of Mesechtas Sofrim, pp.254-255.  For other versions of this Chazal, see the Midrash Bereishis Rabbah (Theodore-Albeck), pp. 496-497; Yalkut Makheri Mishlei printed from a manuscript by Yakov Spiegel, Sidra 1 (1985), pp. 123-125; Torah Sheleimah, Esther, p. 62. 200; Esther Rabbah, (Tabori and Atzmon Ed.) pp. 178-179, 114-115, [on this new edition see here].
[4]  On the Piyyut Asher Heni see I. Davidson, Otzar Hashira Vehapiyyut 1, p. 372, #8215; R’ Fack, Yemei Mishteh Vsimcha, pp. 158-161; Avrohom Frankel, “Asher heniya – toldoteha shel berakhah mefuyetet, available on the Piyyut website here; Rabbi Yakov Stahl. Segulah (2012), p. 32, no. 30-31.
[5]  On the exact Nussach of Shoshanas Yakov and the censors see R’ Yakov Laufer, Mei-Soncino Vi-ad Vilna, pp. 41-43; Sefer
HaZikuk
in Italia 18 (2008), p. 183.
[6]  Some Rishonim assume it is referring to a Piyyut;  See Sefer Hamanhig, 1, p. 242; Zror Ha-Chaim, p. 118; Shita leMesechtas
Megillah,
pp. 34-35; Avudraham, p. 209; Rashash, Megillah 7b; Meir Rafeld, Nitivei Meir, p. 198. I hope to return to this topic;
for now see Rafeld, ibid, pp. 190-209.
[7]  Sefer Hamanhig, 1, pp. 242-243.
[8]  Orchos Chaim, Purim, 41. The Beis Yosef (690) appears to have a different version of the Orchos Chaim than we have.  On
the Orchos Chaim, see Dr. Pinchas Roth, Later Provencal Sages- Jewish Law and Rabbis in Southern France, 1215-1348, (PhD Hebrew University 2012), pp. 38-41.
[9] Avudraham, p. 209. I believe this addition is not a quote from the Manhig, contra Y. Rafael (in his notes to Sefer Hamanhig, 1, pp. 242) and others appear to have understood the Avudraham.
Regarding the source of this Midrash, Rashi at the end of Ke Sisa brings such a Midrash. The Minchas Chinuch writes he does not know the source for it (Mitzvah 604) The Aderes (Chesbonot Shel Mitzvah, pp. 377-378) and R’ Meir Simcha point to the Mechilta in Beshalach [See Mechiltah Di R’ Yishmael at the end of Parshas Bishalach and the Mechiltah Di Rashbi, p. 126; R’ Menachem Kasher, Torah Sheleimah, Beshalach p. 270 (120), 274 (130); See also Menachem Kahana, Hamechiltos Li Parshas
Amalek
, pp. 190-191, 194, 314, 355. See also the important comments of Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisroel, 4, pp. 331-333.
[10] Meorot Rishonim, pp. 168-169.
[11] Shibolei Haleket, Purim, 200. See also the Tanyah Rabosi (Purim, 40) who says the same.
[12]  Sefer HaTadir, p. 209. On this work see R’ Rafael Nosson Rabinowitz, Ohel Avrohom, pp. 14-15.
[13] Machzor Ki-Minhag Roma (1485) in the 2012 reprint p. 62a. See Yitzchack Yudolov, Kovetz Mechkarim Al Machzor Ki-Minhag Bnei Roma (2012), p. 34, and pp. 32-33. M. Gidman, Ha-Torah Ve-Hachaim, 2, pp. 189-190 brings another Italian Machzor from manuscript that says the same. See also E. Horowitz, Reckless Rites, p. 272.
[14]  Shulchan Orach, p. 84.
[15]  Maharil, pp. 427-428. On this work see the Y. Pelles, The Book Of Maharil According to its autograph manuscripts and its specialty as a Multi-Draft versions work (PHD, Bar Ilan University 2005).
[16] Darchei Moshe, 690. See Magan Avrohom, 690:19 who brings down the Maharil.
[17] See Shut Maharam Shick, Y.D. # 216
[18]  Maharil, p. 428, note 6.
[19] Eshkol Hakofer, 9:32. About him see the introduction to the recent edition of his work Tzror Hachaim, Jerusalem 2014.
[20] End of parshas Ki Sisa.
[21] Ki Sisa, 25:2.
[22] Levush, 690:17.
[23] Mateh Moshe, 1006.
[24] S.A. 690:17
[25] On this work See Jean Baumgarten, “Prayer, Ritual and Practice in Ashkenazic Jewish Society: The Tradition of Yiddish Custom Books in the Fifteenth to Eighteenth Centuries”, Studia Rosenthaliana, Vol. 36, (2002-2003), pp. 121-146.
[26]The Magan Avrhom (690:19) says to be careful not to miss words [See the Noheg Ketzon Yosef p. 200 who says the same]. The Magan Avrhom says to say a pasuk or two from the Chumash (because might have missed it). However the Mekor Chaim says this is only if you have a kosher Megillah.
[27] 690:17.
[28]  Sharei Tzion, 690:57.
[29] Igrot Moshe (O.C., 1:192). R’ Moshe deals with the intention of the Yerushalmi and more. See also Chazon Ovaadiah, pp. 93-94; Haghot Pnei Menachem, (printed in the back of the Zichron Aron Levush).
[30]  690:21. See the important comment of the Machtzis Hashekel. See also the Yafeh Mareh on the Midrash Raba on parshas Va-Yayra 49:1.
[31]  There is much more to this story, depending on the exact Girsa in the various Midrashim that talk about saying ‘Aror Haman Ubanuv’. I hope to return to this in the future; for now see the important notes in Midrash Rabah (Theodore-Albeck), pp. 496-497; Yalkut Makheri Mishlei printed from a manuscript by Yakov Spiegel, Sidra 1 (1985), pp. 123-125. See also the important Teshuvah of R’ Yissachar Teichtal, Mishnat Sachir, siman 228-229 where he deals with when exactly do we say Shoshanas Yakov, which relates to all this.
[32]  Sefer Ha-Minhaghim Li R’ Avrohom Klozner (2006), p. 74. On this work see Rachel Mincer, Liturgical Minhaghim Books: The Increasing Reliance on written texts in late Medieval Ashkenaz, (PhD JTS, 2012), pp. 91-149.
[33]  Sefer HaMinhaghim Li R Issac Tirina, (2000), p. 48 # 55. On the authorship of these notes see the Introduction Ibid.
[34]  Maagalei Tzedek, (2000), pp. 175-176. I hope to return to this work in the near future.
[35]  Takonot Kandyah, pp. 130-131. See also the Kitzur Shelah, p. 88a, who describes a similar incident. For the most recent work on R’ Capsali see: Aledia Paudice, Between Several Worlds: The life and writings of Elia Capsali, Munchen 2010.
[36]  Shelah, p. 87a.
[37]  The Mishna Berurah quotes this but it’s not clear what his outcome with all this is.
[38]  Printed in Meir Benayhu, Yosef Bechiri, p. 437,418.
[39]  Seder Hayom, p. 240.
[40] Keser Shem Tov (above note 1).
[41] See Niveh Sholom, Dinei Purim, 7; Na-har Mitzrayim, pp, 52b-53b.
[42]  Siman 62. See also R’ Yakov Reifman, Ha-maggid (1858), issue # 11, p. 44.
[43]  Chazon Ovadiah, Purim, pp. 62-63.
[44]  Shut Gevurot Eliyhau, p. 209.
[45]  Shirei Knesses Hagedolah, 690. About him see the recent work of Yakov Barnai, HaMaruh Shel Europia, Jerusalem 2014.
[46]  Yafeh Li-Lev, 690:15.
[47]  Minhaghim De-Kehal Vermeizah, (1988), pp. 259-260.
[48]  Mekor Chaim, 690.
[49] Ben Ish Chai, first year, Parshas Tzaveh, 10.
[50] Pauline Wengeroff, Memoirs of a Grandmother, 2010, p. 113
[51]  Her father authored an important work called Minchas Yehudah. On this work see S. Abramson, Sinai, 112 (1993), pp.1-24; N. Steinschneider, Ir Vilna, pp. 248-249.
[52]  Itim LeBinah, p. 237.
[53]  Yoser Yasrani, 1, p. 168.
[54]  Be-Eikvot Ha-Yeriah, p. 162,
[55]  Oruch hashulchan, 690:23.
[56]  Siddur R’ Yakov Emden 2, p. 472.
[57] Prakim BeSatira Haivrit (1979), p.93.
[58] See the critical edition of this work printed in 1997, p. 67.
[59] Benjamin Gordon, Between Two worlds: The Memoirs of a Physician, p. 37.
[60] M. Zunser, Yesterday, p.42.
[61] The Enemy at his Pleasure (p. 284).
[62]  I witnessed this myself a few times when I davened there. See also Halichos VeHanhagot, (Purim), p. 14; Ish El haedah, 2, p. 275.
[63]  Synagoga Judaica, pp. 556-557.
[64] Dr. A. Cohen, An Anglo-Jewish Scrapbook 1600-1840, London 1943, p. 267.  See also Ibid, p. 260.
[65] Johann Eisenmenger, The Traditions of the Jews, U.S.A. 2006, p. 853. On this work see E. Carlebach, Divided Souls, London 2001, pp. 212-221.
[66] Ceremonies of the Present Jews, p. 44.
[67] Masei Notzrim Le Eretz Yisroel, p. 802.
[68] See Maharatz Chayes, Darchei Horaah, pp.235-235. For general information about the importance of Minhaghim, see R’ Heller, Maoz Hadat, Chapter 3.
[69] Aruch, s.v. Shvar quoted by the Rama in Darchei Moshe (690). See R’ Yakov Shor, Mishnat Yakov, pp. 398-399; S. Abramson, Rav Nissim Gaon, p. 278; Sefer haManhig, Mossad Harav Kook ed. vol. 1, pp. 249;  Herman H. Pollack, Jewish Folkways in Germanic Lands (1648-1806), pp. 175-177,328.
[70]  Orchos Chaim, Purim, 42.
[71]  Avudraham, p. 209.
[72]  See Yom Tov Lewnsky, (above note one), p. 16; Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisroel, 1, p.17; E. Horowitz, Reckless Rites, pp. 213-217; Sarit Gribetz, “Hanged and crucified: The book of Esther and Toledot Yeshu”, in Toledot Yeshu Revisited, (Peter Schafer and others ed.), Tubingen 2011, pp. 171-175. See also another early source that appears to be alluding to this, Shirat Bnei Ma-Aravah (Yahlom and Sokolof ed.), pp. 216-217, 33.
See also Levi Ginsburg, Shut Ha-Geonim Min Hagenizah New York 1909, pp. 1-3; R. S. Schick, Sefer Haminhaghim p. 51a; Korot Luv Ve-Yhudehah, p. 198; Israel Davidson, Parody in Jewish Literature, pp. 21-22; E. Horowitz, Reckless Rites, pp. 93-106. See also R’ Reuven Margolis, Margaliyot Hayam, Sanhadrin 64 b (17-18); Israel Yuval, Two Nations in your Womb, pp.165-166; T. Gaster, Festivals of the Jewish Year, pp. 227-229.
[73] See Rabbi Yosef Kapach, Haleichos Teiman (1968), p. 40. Earlier about Teiman the famous traveler R’ Yakov Sapir already describes this, Even Sapir, pp, 86b-87a [R’ Reuven Margolis Nefesh Chayah, 690].
[74] See R’ Dovid Sasson, Maseh Bavel, p. 226. See the nice collection of sources about this in Pineinim 54 (2012); Pineinim 55, (letters to the Editor); Pineinim 64, (letter to the editor) [Thanks to Yisachar Hoffman for sending me these sources].
[75]  This kind of stuff gets out of control in 1932 some youngsters made such a Mock Haman out of R Kook! See Rabbi S. Goren’s autobiography, With Might and strength (Heb.), p. 68; R’ Menachem Porush, Besoch Hachomos, (1948), pp. 323-324. See also the recent collection of Material on this called “Einei Yochel Lehashlim Im Das Hakanoyim“.
[76] E. Horowitz, Reckless Rites, p. 109 identifies this R’ Heshel incorrectly to be R’ Heshel Zoref. However already in the first edition printed by the author in the Yiddish part he writes he is referring to R’ Heshel Av Beis Din of Cracow. See also R’ Shmuel Ashkenazi’s notes to the Kav Ha-Yosher (1999), p. 23.
[77] Kav Ha-Yosher, ch. 99; Yesod Yosef, Ch. 82. On this work see: Y. Schachar, Bikurot Hachevrah, pp. 3-6; Jean Baumgarten, ‘Eighteenth-Century Ethico-Mysticism in Central Europe: the “Kav ha-yosher” and the Tradition’, Studia Rosenthaliana, Vol. 41, Between Two Words: Yiddish-German Encounters (2009), pp. 29-51; see also his Introduction to old Yiddish Literature, index; Yakov Elbaum, ‘Kav Ha-Yashar: Some remarks on its structure, content and literary sources’, Chut Shel Chein (heb.), pp. 15-64.  On the Yesod Yosef, see: Yeshurun 3 (1997), pp. 685-687.
[78] Sefer Zechirah, (1999), p. 273. See R’ Shmuel Ashkenazi’s notes to the Kav Ha-Yosher (1999), pp. 4-5. On this work see my Likutei Eliezer, pp. 13-25. For additional sources on this see E. Horowitz, Reckless Rites, pp. 107-109; Pardes Yosef, Devarim
beis, pp. 1077-1078 [Thanks to Professor Yakov Speigel for pointing me to this source].
[79] See Olat Tamid (O.C. 1:6); Magan Avrohom 60:2 See also his important comment in his Zayis Raanan, p. 51 b; Radal, Pirkei Di R’ Eliezer, Ch.44:5 (Haghot); Malbim, Artzos Hachaim, Eretz Yehudah, 1:4; Moshe Chalamish, Chikrei Kabbaah UTefilah, pp. 209-226 who collects numerous sources on this topic. See also: Aderes, Chesbonot Shel Mitzvah, pp. 382-383; R’ Zevin, Leor Ha-Halacha, (2004), pp. 270-278; Encyclopedia Talmudit, 12, pp. 217-223.
[80] Chinuch, Mitzvah 603.
[81] Some say this is why some pesukim of the Megilah are read out loud by everyone (see more on this further on).
[82] Sefer Hamanhig, 1, p. 243.
[83] See Yakov Spiegel, Pischei Tefilah UMoed, pp. 195-204.
[84] See for example R’ Margolis in his Shut Machlos Hamachanyim, pp. 27b-28a.
[85] Breishis, 12:6; 48:22.
[86] R’ Yosef ben Naim, Noheg BiChochma, pp. 167-168. See Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisroel, 3, pp. 113-172.
[87]  See Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisroel, 3, pp. 113-172.
[88] Sifri DeBei Rav, 4, (1990), pp. 181-183.
[89] Meorot Rishonim, p. 171; M. Gidman, Ha-Torah Ve-Hachaim, 1, p. 121. A similar idea is found in R’ Eliyahu Hacohen, Midrash Eliyhau, 89b.
[90]  Nezer Hakodesh, 2, (2014) p. 400. On the actual concept of Shem Rishoyim see Chida in his work Kisay Rachamim on Mesctas Sofrim, 14:7 I hope to return to this in the future.
[91]  R’ Avigdor Hazarfati, p. 414. For additional sources on this see R’ Hamberger, Mishichei Sheker Umisnagdeyium, (2009), pp. 121-122.
[92]  In the recently discovered Pirish from the Beis Medrash of Rashi on the piutim [Piyutim LeArbah Parshiyous, (2013), p. 77] it says the reason for saying Yemoch shemo Vizichro in this piyyut is because of the Medrash quoted earlier.
[93]  Kaf Naki, Lud 2014, pp. 95-96. The Chida brings this piece down from manuscript in his Machzik Beracha, Kuntres Achron, Siman 687 and in his Midbar Kadmot, Ois peh:12.