New Book List December 2007

December 2007 New Book List
By Eliezer Brodt

As previously mentioned before from time to time we hope to write up lists of new seforim with a short description. Here is a list of some new seforim that came out in the past few weeks [some of these seforim will be the subject of their own longer posts].

Iggeret Hamussar (Jerusalem, 2007); 269 pages. This sefer is the last will and testament of the Rambam (with nikkud) that he wrote to his son R. Avraham. This work has a lengthy commentary from R. H. Kupperman – 269 pages. The authenticity of this work will be discussed in a future post at the Seforim blog.

Tosaot Chaim from R. Eliyahu De Vedasch author of the Resheis Chochmah. This edition is 437 pages and contains 183 chapters from R. Akiva Yitzchak about various topics in this sefer mostly relating to Orach Chaim topics.

The Sefer Mitzvot Tefillen by R. Yeshaya Horowitz, author of the Shelah HaKadosh, was reprinted. This work was first printed by R. Kreizer over thirty years ago with notes from manuscript for the first time. It’s a complete work on the halakhot of tefillen written by the Shelah. Now R. Kreizer reprinted it with almost double amount of material in the notes than the original printing.

Yerushateinu vol. 2 (Beni Brak: Machon Moreshet Ashkenaz, 2007); 462 pages. Machon Moreshet Ashkenaz released the second volume. This journal will soon be reviewed at greater length at the Seforim blog.

R. Yadler has just printed his fourth volume of the popular work Meor HaShabbas. This work focuses on electrical products and Shabbas.

A new volume of R. Tzvi Pesach Frank’s Har Tzvi has been printed. This work is a collection of his notes on various classical acharonim, many of which have been printed before.

A new sefer called Nasiach BeChukechah was just printed by the Rosh Kollel of the kollel in Palo Alto, California, Rabbi Avi Lebowitz. This work is an excellent basic work on the klalaei hamitzvos. The volume is very organized and clear, but not overly exhaustive or encyclopedic. The author focuses on the kelalim that the Chayei Adam brings (in siman 68) and Nasiach BeChukechah has chapters on each of these kelalim, providing citations for the basic sources and relevant discussions on the various kelalim. He also has some chapters on some of the Kelalim that the Chayei Adam omitted. For some samples of this work see here.

Another volume from the Eitz Hadas Tov by R. Hayyim Vital was printed for the first time from manuscript. The introduction to this volume deals with, among other topics, the time when this work was written by R. Vital — before or after R. Vital studied kabbalah. [A topic which has already been sharply debated between R. Y. Hillel and R. Montzur]. This edition of Eitz Hadas Tov also includes a hundred page work on the history of R. Hayyim Vital and his writings.

Ahavat Sholom released two more volumes, numbers seven and eight, of their set of seforim of the Aderet. Other publishers are putting out other volumes of the Aderet’s writings as well. Amongst the seforim in these two volumes is a work of the Aderet’s father and a work on klalei Hamitzvot. All the works of the Aderet will be reviewed shortly at the Seforim blog.

HaMeor HaGodol, R. Meir son of R. Jacob Emden, ed. R. Shmuel Dovid Friedman (Brooklyn, NY, 2007), [30], 352, [6]. This is a commentary on Mishnayos Seder Nashim and the Rambam’s Mishneh Torah by R. Meir, the first born son of R. Jacob Emden. Included is a biography of R. Meir.




The Customs Associated with Joy on Chanukah and Their More Obscure Sources

The Customs Associated with Joy on Chanukah and Their More Obscure Sources
by: Eliezer Brodt

In previous posts we have discussed some of the customs relating to Chanukah, in this post I wanted to address those customs connected to Simcha (joy) and do so by highlighting some rather unknown sources. Amongst the topics I will discuss are eating a seudah, dairy products, sefuganiot, playing cards and dreidel.

1. Seudah

R. Eliezer Ashkenazi (1512-85) writes in the introduction to his classic work on Megliat Esther, Yosef Lekakh (first printed in Cremona, 1576), the reason that only on Purim do we celebrate with a seudah and not on Chanukah is because

שעם היות שהמלחמה חשמונאי נצחה, ועל ידו היתה הרוחה אף גם זאת בהיותה על ידי מיתת כמה מישראל לא נס יגון ואנחה. מה שאין כן בזמן מרדכי ואסתר ובימיהם היתה נח מאויבהם והרוג בשונאיהם ואין שטן ואין פגע במחניהם ואיש לא עמד בפניהם

What R. Eliezer Ashkenazi is saying is that since on Chanukah we suffered many causalities so we do not celebrate with a seudah as opposed to Purim where there were no casualties.

The R. Mordechi Yaffa (1530-1612) in his Levush gives a different reason why there is no seudah on Chanukah:

ומפני שלא נמסרו ישראל באותו זמן ביד מושל אחד שהיה מושל עליהם להריגה כמו שהיה בימי המן אלא שבא האויבים עליהם למלחמה ואל בקשו אלא הכנעה ולהיות ידם תקופה על ישראל ולהבערים על דתם כידוע ממעשה אנטיוכס שלא גזר עליהם להרוג ולהשמיד רק צרות ושמדות כדי להמיר דתם

Meaning that since on Purim there was no option to convert as opposed to Chanukah so therefore Chanukah was not as bad as Purim and we do not celebrate with a seudah. [Much has been written on this Levush but we will have to deal with this on a different occasion.]

Many Rishonom hold there is no obligation to eat a seudah and that is what the Mechaber in Shulchan Orach writes ריבו הסעודות שמרבים בהם הם סעודת הרשות שלא קבעום למשתה ושמחה

The Rambam (Hilcos Chanukah Perek Gimel Halacha gimel), however, writes:

ומפני זה התקינו חכמים שבאותו הדור שיהיו שמונת הימים האלו שתחלתן מליל חמשה ועשרים בכסלו ימי שמחה והלל

At first glance it does not appear that the Rambam is saying one has to eat a seudah rather its just days of “simcha and joy.” However, R. Zev Boskowitz (1740-1809) in his work Seder Hamishana (recently printed from manuscript in 1989) writes the Rambam in fact means a seudah is required and furthermore such a seudah would considered a seudas mitzvah.

While until now, we have been parsing the words of the Rambam to locate an authority that holds there is an obligation to have a seuda, other Rishonim write straight out that there is an obligation to eat a seudah on Chanukah amongst them, Rashaba (vol 1, Siman 699) Tosofos (Tanis 18b), Marshal and Chanukas Habayis (p. 71). Additionally, R. Yeshuah Ibn Shu’eib, a talmid of the Rashaba, in Ibn Shu’eib’s Derashot al HaTorah (first printed in Istanbul, 1523 – end of parsha Meketz) also writes ותקנו ז”ל… ולעשותן כמועדים שהם ימי שמחה this could imply a seudah.[1]

Some have used the Megilas Antioches [2] to adduce a seudah obligation on Chanukah. The Megilas Antioches (first printed in Mantau 1557 and typically dated sometime between the 2nd and 5th centuries of the Common Era, for more see the sources in note 2) describes Chanukah as ימי משתה ושמחה thus, according to some, the “משתה” would obligate a meal. But, this line in Megilas Antioches is only found in the Hebrew translations, whereas in the older Aramaic versions it only says שמחה and is lacking the key word משתה

2. Instruments and Jokes.

As far as other aspects of Simcha on Chanukah in the Sefer Hamaskil (end of the 13th century) from the nephew of the Rosh, writes that although during the rest of the year it is prohibited to tell jokes (pg 12) or play musical instruments (pg. 22) on Chanukah it is permitted. This implies that Chanukah is days of joy, a joy on some level more than rest of the year.

3. Maseh Yehudis and eating Dairy products.

Rabenu Bechayu (lived at the end of the 13th century) writes in his work Kad haKemach (first printed in Istanbul, 1515) that וכן דרשו ז”ל בנס חנוכה שהיה על ידי משתה. It is unclear, however, what the source in Chazal for this statement is. R. Chaim Bright in his pirish on the Kad haKemach called Tzipchas Hasheman (first published in the Lvov, 1880 edition of the Kad haKemach) brings that the source for Rabenu Bachayu is the sefer Maseh Yehudis (Book of Judith) [3] as part of what she did was tied to food. Specifically, Yehudis gave the enemy General Holofernes food and then proceeded to cut off his head.(p. 92) All this could be another possible source to make a seudah on Chanukah. The truth is the story of Yehudis is the source for another Halacha related to Chanukah and food. The Ramah writes some eat milchig (dairy) products as the miracle (of Yehudis) came about thru dairy products. Much has been gathered on this topic just to add one more source, R. Avrohom Saba (1440-1508) in his work on Megilas Esther, Eshkol Hakofer, (p. 40) writes
כמו שאמרו בירושלמי על בתו של ר’ יוחנן שהי’ בימי היונים וגזרו על כל בתולה שתבעל להגמון תחלה… ויהי כאשר נתפסה בתו של ר’ יוחנן להבעל להגמון אמרה לו שקודם שישכב עמה היא רוצית שיאכלו וישתו ביחד והאכילתו תבשיל של גבינה… ונרדם והוציאה סכין… ונעשה נס לישראל… ולכן תקנו לאכול תבשיל גבינה בחנוכה זכר לאותו נס.
The Chanukas haBayis also writes to eat Milchigs (p. 136). Chaim Chemerinsky [early 1900’s] also writes that in his home they specifically ate dairy products during their seudah on Chanukah (Eiyuriti Motele p. 181). [4]

However, it is not so clear if one can use the sefer Maseh Yehudis as a source because many write the event in question did not even happen during Chanukah. The Meor Eynaim (end of ch 51), R. Yehudah Aryeh Modena (Shulchan Orach, p. 83), R. Yakov Emden (Meor Uketziah beginning of Hal. Chanukah) and the Orach Hashulchan (siman 670, 8) all write the event was not on Chanukah.

4. Seufgoniot

Another food eaten by Jews on Chanukah is Seufgoniot (doughnuts). In Eretz Yisroel they start selling them a month before Chanukah and incredible amounts of these sefgoniot are sold each year. This custom also has very early sources just to mention two of them. R. Mamion the father of the Rambam writes[5]

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

[Additionally, from this source, it appears from this that R. Mamion holds one should make a seudah on Chanukah.] Another early source who writes that people used to eat these סופגנין on Chanukah is R. Kalnomus Ben Kolumnus (1286 – died after 1328) in his Even Habochen (p. 30) [more on him in a future post].

5. Latkes

Based on the words of R, Mamion it’s easy to understand how the minhag of eating latkes came about as they are fried in oil as R. Maimon’s highlights that the sufganiyot are “fried in oil.”

Pauline Wengeroff records in her excellent memoir, Rememberings: “On the fifth night my mother invited all our friends and relatives…. The Invitation read, ‘You are invited for latkes.'” It’s very likely that this is the food described by R. D. Sassoon in his travels that people in Baghdad ate on Chanukah (Maseh Bavel p. 183).

6. Getting drunk and Cross-dressing

Besides for eating elaborate seudos and special foods we find other methods of entertainment that Jews did on Chanukah. R. Kalnomus Ben Kolumnus writes in his Even Habochen (p. 30) that people used to get drunk. The Sefer Hamaskil (end of the 13th century) [6] indicates that although he strongly disapproves of the customs, there was a custom to cross-dress on Chanukah. He writes:

טובה תנחל ושלוה תירש אם תשמור מלאו דלא ילבש גבר שמלת אשה כגון בחורים הנותנים צעיך בראשיהם ולובשים בגדי נשים בחנוכה… ואל תהיה כאחד מהם בדבר הרע הזה ואפילו אם תעשהו לשם מצוה יצא השכר בהפסד

Meaning do not this terrible sin of cross dressing on Chanukah. [7]

7. Card Playing

Another pastime observed on Chanukah was card playing. [8] Professor M. Breuer brings early sources for card playing on Chanukah (Ohelei Torah p. 355). R. Yehudah Aryeh Modena writes about himself in his autobiography how “during Chanukah of the year 5355 (1594) Satan fooled me into playing games of chance causing me no small amount of damage.” (The Autobiography of a Seventeenth Century Venetian Rabbi, p. 97). R. Yakov Emden writes against this custom in his Meor Uketziah which he says people used to do on Chanukah [introduction to hilchos Chanukah and end of siman 670].

Eliezer Friedman [1870’s] describes in his memoirs (Zikhronos, Tel Aviv, 1926) how his grandfather, an old litvack taught him one Chanukah exactly how to play cards (p. 61).

Both Chaim Chemerinsky (Eiyruti Motele pp. 43, 178) and Pauline Wengeroff (op. cit., pp. 65-6) elaborately describe the card games that used to take place in their homes on Chanukah. R.M. Braver describes in his autobiography [mid 1800’s] how in Galicia the yeshiva boys used to waste their whole Chanukah playing cards (Zecronot Av U’beno p. 67). His son, R. A. Braver in his autobiography also describes the card games that used to take place in Galicia on Chanukah (pp. 244-45). Elsewhere in his book he describes when the month of Kislev began how the boys started getting their cards ready for card playing on Chanukah (p. 352).

8. Dreidel

Another game played by Jews until today is Dreidel although it’s unclear from where it came from but some sources of playing this game are: M. Zlotkin printed an autobiography from a Litvish Rav (available here) who supposedly lived in the time of the Vilna Goan who writes how how in an effort to try to connect to the children on Chanukah he used to give them Dreidels (pp. 244- 245). In 1824 an extremely cynical parody work was printed called Sefer Kundes [in a future post I hope to write an elaborate post on this work] it describes things found in the pocket of a kundes – a trickster one of the items is a dreidel [In 1997, M. Zalkin thru the Dinur Center printed a critical edition of this very rare work, see p. 48].

R. Y. Weiss brings that the Chasam Sofer used to play dreidel on the first night (Eleph Kesav p. 145) Pauline Wengeroff writes that another popular game on Chanukah was dreidel (op. cit., p. 66). R. A. Braver in his autobiography writes before Chanukah they used to prepare their dreidels (p. 231) Later on he describes exactly how the game was played (p. 244).

R. Y. Falk in his Choshvei Machshovos (printed in 1970), an excellent unknown work on minhaghim writes a few reasons for playing dreidel on Chanukah at the end he writes

מה שמשחקין בחנוכה בדרעדרל כי אי’ בספרים שהאותיות נגה”ש שכותבים עליו הוא ר”ת נס גדול הי’ שם וי”ל משום שראו חכמים שבאותו דור שהנס של חנוכה התחיל להתמעט בעיני העולם על כל קבעו מסמרות והנהיגו לעשות דרעדרל ולכתוב עליו נגה”ש שהוא ר”ת… להזכיר ולעורר בני ישראל שלא יוקטן בעיניהם הנס של חנוכה שהי’ באמת נס גדול

(p. 160)

Some recent sources on these topics [just to whet ones appetite]:

[1] On eating a Seudah on Chanukah See; R. S. Shick, Seder Haminhagim p. 32b; Eleph Kesav, 1, p. 37 ; M. Rafeld in Minhaghei Yisroel, vol. 5, pp. 85-101; R. Nosson D. Rabinowitz, Benue Shnos Dor Vdor pp. 47-48; Moadim Lisimcha pp. 230-252; Pardes Eliezer pp. 463- 556; Chazon Ovadiah pp. 15-18.

[2] On this point see: R. Nosson D. Rabinowitz, Benue Shnos Dor Vdor pp.140-142 :M. Rafeld in Minhaghei Yisroel, vol. 5, pp. 85-86; Moadim Lisimcha pp 258- 259; R. M. Leiter, Mamlechet Kohanim pp. 56,117-19.

On this Megilah in general see R. M. Strashun, Mivchar Kesavim p. 144; N. Fried in Minhaghei Yisroel, vol. 5, pp. 102-20; Areshet vol.4 p. 166; R. Nosson D. Rabinowitz, Benue Shnos Dor Vdor pp. 121- 151; R. M. Leiter, Mamlechet Kohanim pp. 40-159.

[3] On Maseh Yehudis in general see R. Nosson D. Rabinowitz, Benue Shnos Dor Vdor pp. 80-105 (especially p. 109); Moadim Lisimcha pp. 276-312; Chasmunu Ubobov pp. 114-129; R. M. Leiter, Mamlechet Kohanim pp. 359-442.

[4] For more on eating Milchigs see Moadim Lisimcha, pp. 286-292; Pardes Eliezer, pp. 557-581.

[5] On this statement of R. Mamion see S. Abramson, Rav Nissim Goan p. 328.

[6] On the Sefer Hamaskil see the excellent article by R. M. M. Honig, Yerushcanu, 1, pp. 196-240.

[7] On cross dressing and yom tovim see the excellent forthcoming article of Y. Speigel.

[8] On card playing in general see; I. Davidson, Parody in Jewish Literature, pp.148-151;Y. Rivkind, Yiddishe Gelt; A. Shochet, Em Chelufei Tekufos (pp. 40-41) ; L. Landman J.Q.R.Vol. 57, No.4.(Apr.,1967) pp. 298-318 and J.Q.R.Vol. 58, No.1.(Jul.,1967) pp.34-62.




Hot Tears For A Close Friend: Rabbi Eitam Henkin HY”D

Hot Tears For A Close Friend: Rabbi Eitam Henkin HY”D
by
Rabbi Yechiel Goldhaber
translated by Daniel Tabak
I shall never forget when I first met Rabbi Eitam Henkin HY”D three years ago. At the time I had begun preparing a study on the parting of minds in the kollels of the Old Yishuv in Jerusalem 150 years ago. I managed to get my hands on a lot of rare sources, but the morass of material only beclouded the depths of the goings-on in the city at the time. The main purpose of my study was to ascertain the causes of dispute between the various ethnic groups and kollels, but the facts grew ever larger and more ramified, and soon obscurity overtook clarity. As the saying goes, I could not see the forest for the trees.
One key element in the conflict centered upon Rabbi Yechiel Michel Pines. On the one hand, Rabbi Shmuel Salant viewed him as an ally, but on the other, Rabbi Yehoshua Leib Diskin, head of the rabbinical court of Brisk, loathed him. My study successfully identified this dispute as one of the main points of contention that whipped everyone in the city into a frenzy, a flashpoint whose consequences lasted decades.
Needless to say, I had the articles by Eitam Henkin about Rabbi Pines in front of me. I read them multiple times, and felt as if he had lived and breathed the alleyways of the Old City in those times. I struck up a connection with him,and he shared with me his textured perspective of the city with all its troubles. From then one, not two weeks passed when we did not speak by telephone about it.
About a year ago I needed to finish an article on Rabbi Shmuel Salant’s search for a rabbi who would support him as he entered his twilight years. I uncovered some rare documentation that shed new light on this episode, but to my dismay, I could not find anyone with whom to speak in order to clarify this complicated issue. Only Eitam Henkin lent me his ear.
In the meantime, we continued to speak about his great-grandfather Rabbi Yosef Eliyahu Henkin zt”l. I would contribute some of what I knew, and he would include me in his work on collecting and compiling material about his great-grandfather. Our discussions took us from Lithuania all the way to the United States, and everything in between.
We wrote each other a lot, and we had many conversations. He would begin each conversation by saying that he was very busy with his studies and editing articles, yet he still devoted many minutes to me.
I tried to get a hold of Eitam Henkin many times on the phone to obtain some point of clarification, but he was not always available. Quite often his wife Na’ama HY”D picked up the phone and I would“complain” that I was having trouble “catching” him on the phone. When I explained to her the urgency of the matter, because I had to publish the article in two weeks’ time, her answer was characteristic of a Torah scholar’s wife! She would respond very simply: “my husband is soaring in Torah study. I too take care not to disturb him.” When I heard sentences like those, I felt deep embarrassment.
His textual analysis was razor-sharp; he took pains with every word and letter. More than he questioned the written letter he investigated and interrogated the unwritten word or sentence absent from the document — “why was it missing?” he would ask, along with a barrage of similar questions.
His answers and conclusions were honest and artless; one never found him resolving a perplexity with a forced answer. How rare is that! His level of understanding in any given topic was very advanced, as someone who had completed many tractates of the Talmud along with their commentaries.
His modesty far exceeded what one could guess. He never boasted. His honesty was ever-present, in every field and topic, be it in Torah study, academic research, or this-worldly life.
Our final conversation took place between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. I called him to wish him a Shana Tova. I mentioned the well-known bafflement about the statement of the Rabbis that there were never such good days for the Jewish people as Yom Kippur, when Jewish girls would involve themselves in happy matters…but is it not the most frightening day of the entire year? He responded on the spot:
“If every positive thing leads to happiness, then isn’t it logical that something negative that becomes positive should generate even greater joy? Within the darkness light can be seen. That is the deeper truth of repentance done out of love, from which willful sins are treated as merits; the negative causes an outburst of happiness. The Jewish girls chose this day specifically to concern themselves with matters of love, for there is no love quite like God’s love for his wayward servants who have reconciled themselves with him.”
Such words befit the one who uttered them…
Few are comparable to this wise young man, whose comings and goings were marked by humility, who was as familiar with the paths of the Heavenly Jerusalem as he was with the roads of Mateh Binyamin.
May Eitam and Na’ama’s memory be blessed.



A Review of Beis Havaad by Eliezer Brodt

Beis Havaad, Le’arechat Kitvei Rabboseinu, ed. Yoel Hakoton and Eliyahu Soloveitchik, (Jerusalem, 2003); 272 pp. Beis Havaad is a collection of articles based on a series of lectures that were delivered in Yerushalayim dealing with many aspects of the proper way seforim should be published. Beis Havaad was originally intended to be a journal but, to date, no other issue has appeared. With its focus on books, it is only proper that a review of this book should appear at the Seforim blog — albeit somewhat belatedly — and discuss some of the many important points raised in this book. This book is a collection of articles from many of the top names in the field of printing and editing of seforim and includes articles by both rabbanim and professors. This sefer is basically a must have for anyone who wants to understand how seforim are printed, how to write them, how to find information and the importance of printing proper texts. Although I believe it is currently out of print, The sefer is available at Beigeleisen and many of the articles can be accessed online here. I will list some of the many points of interest raised in the various articles in the book. The book begins with an excellent article by Professor S.Z. Havlin regarding the importance of establishing the correct text of the seforim and using manuscripts. He gives some great practical samples demonstrating his points. Havlin also explains and examines the Hazon Ish’s position regarding the use of manuscripts and the need (or lack thereof) to establish a correct text. At the end of the article, Havlin highlights a source not typically used in the discussion about manuscripts etc. Havlin notes that the topic was touched upon in Chaim Potok’s novel The Promise. Havlin is not the only one to deal with this topic in Beis Havaad, R. Eliyahu Soloveitchik, in his article also discusses this topic. Both of these discussions add some more points to this ongoing discussion amongst talmidei hakhamim and scholars alike regarding the use of manuscripts and correcting texts. [I shall return to this topic at greater length in a forthcoming post at the Seforim blog.] Professor Havlin also mentions a bit about the derech halimud of R. Avraham Eliyahu Kaplan. Additionally, included in this journal is a reprint of much of R. Kaplan’s work on the topic. This work of R. Kaplan is a very special blueprint of how to print an extensive commentary on shas. [This great goan and his works will be the subject of a forthcoming post at the Seforim blog.] With permission of the family, they printed parts of this fascinating project which unfortunately never came to full fruition. Another important article in this journal is from R. Hillel Parush of Machon Harav Herzog and deals with other aspects of the nusach of the Talmud. Amongst the topics that he discusses is the the Hagahos of the Maharshal on the gemara, if they were from based on logical deduction or manuscripts. [For more on this topic, see Yaakov Shmuel Spiegel, Amudim b’Toldot Sefer HaIvri, Haghot u’Maghim, pp. 279-85.] There are at least three articles discussing exactly how one should edit seforim. Each of these articles contribute different, yet offer very important points for discussion. The first is from R. Y. Weiss who was the editor of the excellent journal, Tzefenous. He gives many practical samples on mistakes found in various classical seforim and how he would suggest these mistakes be corrected. Following R. Weiss’s article on the topic is another article on the topic from Professor Robert Brody of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, famous for his work on the geonim. Specifically, Brody’s article discusses how after tracking down all the manuscripts of a specific sefer, the next step is to establish which manuscript is the most accurate text to base the actual text of the sefer. He also points out how one has to be very careful to be crystal clear when printing a sefer to note one’s methods in coming to the decision of which manuscript to use. [As Prof. Brody notes, this whole topic is a very complicated one, one that takes him a few months to teach how exactly this is done. Here, however, he provides an outline of some of the more salient points.]

R. Yoel Koton, co-editor of this volume and editor of the Hamaayan, has an in-depth article with all the rules of writing an article or sefer. Amongst the topics are all rules of grammar and how to quote the sources exactly. This is an extremely important article and anyone who is printing anything for the public should look at it as he raises many important issues. Amongst the points he raises are: the need to cite exactly what source is being quoted, including the edition used as many times there can be many works with the same name or even of the same author with different printings and one trying to track it down has great difficulty doing so; and, consulting experts on particular topics. Koton gives the example of if one is working on Mesechtas Rosh Hashana and comes to the topics relating to Hilchos Kiddush Hachodesh, he should consult people who are familiar with astronomy. [One who looks at the work of R. Chaim Kanivesky on Hilchos Kiddush Hachodesh will see how he consulted an expert on these topics.] As R. Zev Lev writes, in his introduction to Marchei Lev, how he used to explain and discuss the various aspects of science with R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach when he was working on his teshuvos about opening a refrigerator on Shabbos.

Another article of interest is from Benjamin Richler where he discusses the history of the Institute of Microfilmed Hebrew Manuscripts (IMHM), situated in the Manuscripts and Archives Wing on the ground floor of the Jewish National and University Library, of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.[2] Richler writes that 95% of the Jewish manuscripts in the world can be found there, either through microfilm, or actual text. This was written a few years ago. More recently, Richler writes only 90% can be found here. Be that as it may, an extremely large percentage of the Jewish manuscripts in the world are found there. He writes that a very large percentage of the halachic works of the Rishonim have been printed. But on kabbalah and other topics there are still many works in manuscript. Richler encourages anyone working on a work of the Rishonim or Achronim to check if perhaps there’s another manuscript that will help them print a more accurate text of the work. See also Benjamin Richler’s posts (here and here) offering some examples on the benefits of the JNUL manuscript room. The catalog is available online, and it is very easy to navigate through. The staff of the manuscript room is very helpful.

Another article is by Ezra Schwat, also of the JNUL Manuscript Room. His article has a list of all the different helpful websites for one to find different manuscripts. These sites are very helpful for all different kinds of research related to all Jewish areas. Another article is from Professor Spiegel, one of the heads of the Bar Ilan Responsa project. He writes that it is very important for any person working on a sefer to use the Bar Ilan program and similar programs, as they are extremely helpful, especially for locating sources. This article was written before the waves of hard drives from Otzar Hachochma, Otzar Haposkim, Otzros Hatorah, and Hebrewbooks.org which are also important to use.

Another important article was written by Rabbi Mordechai Honig. This article is a continuation of an article from Professor Simcha Emanuel, available here, about the great necessity of an updated version of the sefer Sarei Haelef from Rabbi Menahem M. Kasher. The last updated print edition of the Sarei Haelef was in 1979 and much has been printed since then. Emanuel began to list in his article some of the updates and Hoenig gives another few hundred additions. The work is extremely important. Many times when one is working on a topic, one is curious to know if a work quoted by a Rishon was actually printed, or if there was any historical information about the Rishon. One can turn to this reference. But, as both Emanuel and Hoenig show, Sarei Haelef really requires an comprehensive update.

Included in this journal is an article from Rav Yitzchak Shilat dealing with one of his pet projects, the reprinting of the Perush HaMishnah of the Rambam. There is also an article describing the important project of Halacha Berurah based on R. Kook.

One of the articles which seems to be completely out of place of the spirit of this journal is written by R. Yehuda Liba ben Dovid. This author has written many excellent articles in different Torah journals, some of which he collected and printed in a very interesting sefer called Shevet Mi’Yehuda. Reprinted here is an article that was printed many times before, which is his macha’a (objection) on the way many frum authors write their works. His first problem is on two works printed from Machon Ofek, one called the Teshuvos Hagaonim Hachadashos by Prof. Simcha Emanuel and another called Teshuvos R’ Naturnai Gaon by Professor Robert Brody. His main complaint is that both of these works use Christian, Greek, Karai and Maskilic sources. He says that there’s no reason for a frum work to quote any of these works today. He writes that there is a reason why these works aren’t found in the local beis medrash or yeshiva library. Another example he gives is Ahavat Shalom reprinted a work on minhagim called Kesser Shem Tov from Shem Tov Gagen. This author also brings quote in his work from Christians, Karaim, and Reform Jews. Again, R. ben Dovid writes that he doesn’t understand how a respected publishing house could reprint this work. He goes on to list some other examples and complaints.

In my humble opinion I beg to differ on this point. The basic problem with R. ben Dovid’s article is that what he is suggesting runs directly counter to a significant portion of Beis Havaad and general common sense. As the Rambam teaches: Halomed Mikol Adam. Even if the sources aren’t religious or Jewish at all, if they have a good point, they may be quoted. Granted, this approach has been debated throughout the generations by many. In litvish circles, most notably, R. Yosef Zecharia Stern held that one may quote all sources as long as one realizes who he is quoting. Today in the field of Jewish academics and printing new seforim, there’s much to be learned from the way scholars, even non-Jewish ones, have presented their works, and sometimes they might have good point or two that’s beneficial for the work at hand. For example, if one is working on medical halakhic questions, he can’t just rely on the words of the poskim, but he must be familiar with updated studies in the scholarly world of medicine and to be at least aware of what they write about the various medical conditions before he reaches his conclusions. Knowledge of history is also very important especially in learning halakha as one needs to know who learnt by whom and who was born first, all of which plays a great role in deciding halakha. It is quite obvious to all that the Chida in his classic work Shem Hagedolim was not wasting his time when he wrote it.

There are many other examples of why this is important. For another example, see the excellent Haskamah of R. Shlomo Cohen to the Otzar Haseforim [a bibliography of Hebrew books] by Ben Yakov a Maskil – yes, a maskil – how, according to R. Yehudah, could he give a haskamah to such a work. So to in printing these works of Gaonim, Rishonim and even Achronim many times it is very helpful to be aware of history of the time in order to understand there words. Many times statements of the Geonim it has been proven how many things they wrote were specifically against the Karaim (there are numerous examples of this). Of course, no one is suggesting to pasken based on these Karaim or Christian sources, but it just helps one understand the specific words of the Gaonim and Rishonim. Great people had no problem using works that quoted such sources just to list a few: R. Mordechai Gifter, R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin, R. Yechiel Yaakov Weinberg and R. Reuven Margoliyot all quote Prof. Saul Leiberman in their writings, as they did not seem to be bothered by R. ben Dovid’s concern. (many others have hid it see Marc B. Shapiro, Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox).

Another example is when Professor A. Sofer, who also taught at JTS, passed away late at night. R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, who was a good friend of his, was feeling very weak than yet he made it his business to attend the funeral as a hakarat hatov for all R. Sofer’s work on the Meiri’s writings. (See Yeshurun, vol. 15, p. 501). When one works on minhagim it’s very helpful to be familiar with the history of the time in order to understand the development of certain things as Professor Daniel Sperber ably demonstrates time and time again in his now-eight-volume set of Minhagei Yisrael. Recently an excellent work on minhaghim came out from the ultra-Orthodox — as opposed to academic — circles called Mihnaghei Hakehilos by R. Yehiel Goldhaber. R. Goldhaber also uses such sources and he has received many haskamot from various gedolim. In sum it is important to use all available sources to understand what ever topic one is working on.

Of course, there is the very important point to all this which Professor Lieberman said many times, that the most important thing is to learn real Torah. All of these things are helpful but only a tafal to the learning. All of Professor Lieberman’s excellent writings on Greek in Jewish Palestine were on the side his main learning goals was to complete his works on the Tosefta and Yerushalmi.

In all, Beis Havaad, is an extremely important collection of articles on the topic of seforim in general.




ועשו להם ציצת – What to Make of Tzitzit

ועשו להם ציצת – What to Make of Tzitzit

By Joseph Wertzberger [1]

ויאמר ה׳ אל משה
דבר אל־בני ישראל ואמרת אלהם ועשו להם ציצת על־כנפי בגדיהם לדרתם ונתנו על ציצת הכנף פתיל תכלת
והיה לכם לציצת וראיתם אתו וזכרתם את כל מצות ה׳ ועשיתם אתם, ולא תתורו אחרי לבבכם ואחרי עיניכם אשר אתם זנים אחריהם
למען תזכרו ועשיתם את כל מצותי והייתם קדשים לאלקיכם
אני ה׳ אלקיכם אשר הוצאתי אתכם מארץ מצרים להיות לכם לאלקים, אני ה׳ אלקיכם
במדבר ט׳׳ו,
ל׳׳ז – מ׳׳א

And HaShem said to Moshe as follows.
Speak to the people of Israel and tell them they should make themselves fringes on the ends of their garments, for generations, and place on the end-fringes a techelet-thread.
And they shall serve you as glance-objects – when you see them you’ll recall all HaShem’s orders and do them, and you won’t follow your hearts’ and eyes’ explorations, after which you tend to stray.
So that you recall and perform all my orders, and are ordained to your god.
I am HaShem, your god, that took you out of the land of Egypt to be your god, I am HaShem your god.

Numbers 15, 37-41

_________________

Archeologists recently published[2] new findings regarding the history of Tel Shiqmona, a site near present-day Haifa that was a large-scale production facility for techelet and argaman,[3] the deep blue and purple dyes used in ancient Israel and throughout the Near East during the First-Temple period and later.

Understanding techelet and its role in the ancient world can help us better appreciate how it, together with tzitzit, may have been viewed in early First-Temple Israel, and to more clearly recognize some of the ideas presented in its parsha and in related parshiot in the Torah.

Techelet was produced from the glandular excretions of the Murex trunculus sea-snail using an elaborate production method, and was the most valuable dye in the ancient Near-Eastern world — by some sources it took two-hundred and fifty thousand shells to produce one ounce of dye, which was then worth, by weight, three times the value of gold.[4] Due to its prized status and high cost, it was used in priestly vestments and royal garments[5] across the ancient Near East, including in Israel’s temple vestments.[6]

Techelet’s role in tzitzit can be understood as a signifier that, in contrast to other ancient Near-Eastern religions, in which the priestly class served as intermediaries between the people and their gods,[7] in ancient Judaism the entirety of the Jewish people and all of its members were conceived as a semi-priestly class, with each individual given direct access and communion to God, and all people required to serve him,[8] with sexual, dietary[9] and clothing rules applicable to each of them and signifying their special status.

Like the Israelite priesthood itself, which utilized techelet extensively in its raiment, and also perhaps in similitude to royal garments, individual Jews wore an article of clothing that included a small amount of techelet as a miniature priestly or royal vestment, reminding the wearer that they belong to a class of people vested with particular rules, and requiring maintenance of a higher order of behavior.[10][11][12]

Tzitzit and techelet are not simply objects randomly chosen to serve as reminders to keep the mitzvot. Rather, they signify the wearer’s membership in an elevated class of people to whom the mitzvot apply as part of class membership.

______________________

The root-word ציץ refers to a bud or a blossom,[13] to fringes or tassels,[14] and to the act of peeking,[15][16][17][18] and in its variants can be used in both noun and verb format.[19]

Understanding this reveals the beautiful and poetic wordplay-based meaning of parshat tzitzit, which juxtaposes two conceptions of the root-word ציץ playing off each other to provide the fuller meaning of the word ציצת, and the message of the passage and of the מצוה itself.

In the word’s initial appearance in verse 38, the Jews are told to make ציצת, bud-like thread-fringes, at the ends of their garments. In the next verse, the meaning of the word based on its sentence-context changes to the noun version of the work peek – an object to peek at.[20] The tzitzit together with their techelet are symbols of Israel’s special relationship with God, and thus serve as reminder-objects to regularly look at — “They shall be for you glance-objects,[21] for when you see them, you’ll recall the commandments…”.[22][23]

___________________________

All of which adds color to our understanding of the story of Korach and his arguments against Moshe and Aharon.

The reason the incident of Korach is placed directly after the chapter of tzitzit in the Torah is because Korach’s arguments flow directly from the ideas presented in that chapter. The foundational concept in the parsha of tzitzit is that all Jews are a royal and priestly class, all are קדשים לאלקיכם – sacred and dedicated to God; that God took the Jewish people out of Egypt, להיות לכם לאלקים, to be directly a God of all of the Jewish people – אני ה׳ אלקיכם. Comes Korach and argues, if all Jews are uniquely members of a royal and priestly class in direct communion with God, then why are separate priestly and ruling classes needed to lord over them and to mediate between them and the divine. Korach notes, כי כל העדה כלם קדשים )based on והייתם קדשים לאלקיכם); ובתוכם ה׳ )paralleling אני ה׳ אלקיכם אשר הוצאתי אתכם מארץ מצרים להיות לכם לאלקים, אני ה׳ אלקיכם) and therefore ומדוע תתנשאו על קהל ה׳. The words in Parshat Korach, and Korach’s message, directly address the words and the message in the chapter preceding it.

Many readers are now surely recalling the well-known midrash, a version of which appears in Rashi on the first verse in Parshat Korach, according to which Korach used tzitzit and techelet as a metaphor in his arguments against Moshe and the priesthood’s rule over Israel, contending that an article of clothing made entirely of techelet should not require tzitzit.[24] The meaning of the midrash is made clearer through our understanding of the parshiot. The crux of Korach’s argument is based on techelet’s inclusion in tzitzit as a symbol of priesthood and royalty, signifying the elements of priesthood and royalty carried by all Jews. The midrash elucidates this, and highlights the Korach story’s placement immediately after tzitzit, by elaborating on Korach’s arguments and their premises in the ideas behind techelet. Like a royal garment all of techelet should not need another strand of techelet to make it royal, the Jewish people, who are all part of a royal class, as signified by their own techelet, should not need another royal class to lord over them. Since all Jews have priestly status and are connected to God, what sense is there in adding another priestly appendage? Like a royal or priestly garment does not need an additional purple thread to signify and manifest its meaning, a nation that is itself entirely royal and priestly, should not need other superior and ministerial classes added to it.[25]

___________________________

To round out the discussion, let’s take a look at another midrash that discusses tzitzit and touches on many of the ideas and themes mentioned above.

ועשו להם ציצת על כנפי בגדיהם. זה שאמר הכתוב אור זרע לצדיק ולישרי לב שמחה (תהלים צ׳׳ז – י׳׳א), ה’ חפץ למען צדקו (ישעיה מ׳׳ב – כ׳׳א). זרע להם הקדוש ברוך הוא את התורה ואת המצות לישראל, כדי להנחילם חיי העולם הבא, ולא הניח דבר בעולם שלא נתן בו מצוה לישראל. יצא לחרש, לא תחרש בשור ובחמור, לזרע, לא תזרע כרמך כלאים, לקצר, כי תקצר קצירך בשדה… נתכסה בטלית, ועשו להם ציצת

תנחומא, שלח, סי׳ ט׳׳ו; רבה, במדבר, סי׳ י׳׳ז

“And they should make themselves tzitzit”: Regarding this it is written, “A light shines for the righteous, and there is joy for the straight-hearted” (Tehillim 97-11), “God desired the sake of his righteousness” (Yeshaya 42-21). God sowed Torah and mitzvot for Israel, in order that they inherit eternal life, and he did not leave a thing in the world regarding which he didn’t give a commandment to Israel. A person goes out to plow, “Don’t plow with an ox and donkey”; to sow, “Do not sow your vineyard mixed varieties”; to harvest, “When you harvest in the field”… [the midrash then mentions many other mitzvot that apply to various tasks, and ends with] he covers himself with a cloak, “they should make themselves tzitzit”.

Tanchuma Shelach 15; Rabbah Bamidbar 17.

To better understand the midrash and the significance of its two introductory verses, one needs to see the fuller context of those verses.[26]

אור זרע לצדיק ולישרי⁠ לב שמחה. שמחו צדיקים בה׳ והודו לזכר קדשו. תהלים צ׳׳ז, י׳׳א – י׳׳ב

A light is implanted for the righteous, and there is joy for the straight-hearted. Righteous, rejoice in God, and praise the recollection of his sacredness. Tehillim 97, 11-12.

החרשים שמעו והעורים הביטו לראות. מי עור כי אם⁠ עבדי וחרש כמלאכי אשלח, מי עור כמשלם ועור כעבד ה׳. ראות רבות ולא תשמר פקוח אזנים ולא ישמע. ה׳ חפץ למען צדקו יגדיל תורה ויאדיר. ישעיה מ׳׳ב, י׳׳ח – כ׳׳א

Deaf ones, listen, and blind ones, look and see. Who is blind, but only my servant, who as deaf as the messenger I send; who as blind as the wholesome, as blind as the servant of God. Seeing much and paying no heed, open-eared and hearing not. God desires the sake of his righteousness, let the directives be great, and more mighty. Isaiah 42, 18-21.

We can recognize numerous allusions and references to tzitzit, which help us understand the midrash’s message.

אור זרוע לצדיק – Mitzvot, of course, are Ohr Zarua because they are a light that guides our path, and were implanted into the activities of the world; but tzitzit, representing all of the mitzvot, are particularly so – titzit’s root-word includes an allusion to shining light, and to planted blossoms, and it protects the person from sinning, assisting to make him righteous.

ולישרי לב שמחה — In reminding the person of the mitzvot, the tzitzit assist to keep the person’s heart straight, protecting it from straying. (ולא תתורו אחרי לבבכם ואחרי עיניכם אשר אתם זנים אחריהם)

שמחו צדיקים בה׳ והודו לזכר קדשו – That righteous person who thereby kept the mitzvot should praise and be grateful for the tzitzit, the reminders of sacredness – למען תזכרו ועשיתם את כל מצותי והייתם קדשים לאלקיכם.

Now on to the verses in Yeshaya…

והעורים הביטו לראות. מי עור כי אם⁠ עבדי… מי עור כמשלם ועור כעבד ה׳. ראות רבות ולא תשמר… – The midrash exposits these verses as a reference to the person who looks at and sees his tzitzit but whose eyes are at the same time blind to other temptations. As commanded in the verse in Bamidbar, he looks at his tzitzit, recalls and performs all of the mitzvot, is a servant of God, stays wholesome, and becomes righteous, while blind and paying no heed to the things that would otherwise lead him astray (והיה לכם לציצת וראיתם אתו וזכרתם את כל מצות ה׳ ועשיתם אתם, ולא תתורו אחרי… עיניכם אשר אתם זנים אחריהם.).

ה׳ חפץ למען צדקו יגדיל תורה ויאדיר – God desires the sake of righteousness,[27] and therefore he made the Torah and its commandments greater by making them more numerous and all-encompassing, so that they serve to protect us against sinning and keep us righteous.[28] And the tzitzit are what serve to remind us to keep all of those commandments – [29]למען תזכרו ועשיתם את כל מצותי.

Looking back now at the verses in the chapter on tzitzit, one notices how many of its words and ideas are presented and cross-referenced in the two passages in Tehillim and Yeshaya as exposited by the midrash: the meaning of the word Tzitzit as a blossom, and as a shining light, tzitzit assisting their wearer and seer to remain righteous, to recall all of the very many mitzvot, to serve God and keep them, to remain wholesome and righteous, not to stray after one’s heart, and not to stray after one’s eyes.

והיה לכם לציצת וראיתם אתו וזכרתם את כל מצות ה׳ ועשיתם אתם, ולא תתורו אחרי לבבכם ואחרי עיניכם אשר אתם זנים אחריהם. למען תזכרו ועשיתם את כל מצותי והייתם קדשים לאלקיכם

Almost everything in these two verses on tzitzit is cross-referenced somewhere in the passages mentioned in the midrash.

___________________________

Having said all of this one cannot help but end with the well-known Mishna that closes Tractate Makot:

רבי חנניה בן עקשיא אומר רצה הקב”ה לזכות את ישראל לפיכך הרבה להם תורה ומצות שנאמר ה’ חפץ למען צדקו יגדיל תורה ויאדיר. מכות ג׳ – ט׳׳ז

In light of the midrash just discussed, we recognize that the word לזכות as used in the Mishna means to purify (rather than to provide merit, the more common contemporary translation of the word as used in the passage). The numerous mitzvot serve to keep those who perform them pure, to help stay them from sin, and to maintain their righteousness.[30]

This also helps explain the Mishna’s placement at the end of the last chapter of Makot, which is comprised of lengthy lists of sins and descriptions of their punishments. In light of that, and also so as not to close the tractate with all of that negative material, the Mishna quotes this teaching regarding how mitzvot’s abundance serves to protect us from the many sins, and leads us in their stead to good.

[1] The author is the creator of the YouTube channel, Understanding Kohelet.
[2] Shalvi G., Sukenik N., Waiman-Barak P., Dunseth Z.C., Bar S., Pinsky S., et al. (2025), Tel Shiqmona during the Iron Age: A first glimpse into an ancient Mediterranean purple dye ‘factory’, PLoS ONE 20(4): e0321082 (https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0321082); Shalvi, G., & Gilboa, A. (2023). Between Israel and Phoenicia: The Iron IIA–B Fortified Purple-dye Production Centre at Tel Shiqmona, Tel Aviv, 50(1), 75–110 (https://doi.org/10.1080/03344355.2023.2190283).

See also, Mihailo S. Zekic, The Secrets of Tel Shikmona, Let the Stones Speak Magazine, July – August 2023, (https://armstronginstitute.org/933-the-secrets-of-tel-shikmona); Lidz, Franz, In Israel, a 3,000-Year-Old Purple Factory, NYTimes, March 5, 2024, (https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/05/science/archaeology-tyrian-purple-murex.html); Margolis, Andrea, Archeologists Uncover Ancient “Factory” Used to Produce Coveted Purple Dye Mentioned in Bible, Fox News Online, May 10, 2025 (https://www.foxnews.com/travel/archaeologists-uncover-ancient-factory-used-produce-coveted-purple-dye-mentioned-bible).
[3] Argaman is also known as Tyrian purple.
[4] Zaria Gorvett, Tyrian Purple: The lost ancient pigment that was more valuable than gold, BBC Online, November 24, 2023 (https://www.bbc.com/future/article/20231122-tyrian-purple-the-lost-ancient-pigment-that-was-more-valuable-than-gold#).
[5] E.g., Esther 8-15.
[6] E.g., Shemot, Chapter 28.
[7] See, for example, Ada Taggar-Cohen, Priests and priestesses, ancient near east (June 30, 2015), in The Encyclopedia of Ancient History (https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/9781444338386.wbeah25085).
[8] ואתם תהיו לי ממלכת כהנים וגוי קדוש. שמות י׳׳ט ו׳

And you will be dedicated to me, a nation of priests, and a consecrated people. Shemot 19-6.
[9]  רמב׳׳ם, משנה תורה, סדר קדושה.
[10] This is alluded to in וראיתם אתו… ועשיתם את כל מצותי והייתם קדשים לאלקיכם, which expresses tzitzit’s role as a representative sign of the Jewish nation’s sacredness as a people dedicated to God and ordained to serve him.
[11] It may also be that fringes at the ends of garments themselves also signified royalty or the priestly class. See Stephen Bertman, Tasseled Garments in the Ancient Near East Mediterranean, The Biblical Archeologist, Vol. 24, No. 4 (Dec., 1961); Jacob Milgrom, Hems and Tassels, Biblical Archology Review, Volume IX, No. 3 (May/June 1983). Turning the weft that remained at either end of a garment into ornamental tassels would have been a way of indicating the significance of the wearer, contrasting with ordinary garments which would have had the ends of their wefts sewn into a straight hem, to make the clothing more utilitarian and also more durable. See also, Kelly Olson, Fringed Clothing in Roman iconography and written sources, Chapter 11 in Textiles in Ancient Mediterranean Iconography (Oxbow Books, 2022), and Ancient Fashion: Fringed Clothing in Roman Iconography and Written Sources, at https://brewminate.com/ancient-fashion-fringed-clothing-in-roman-iconography-and-written-sources.
[12] Another area where a parallel exists between the service of Israel’s priestly class and that of the ordinary Jewish “semi-priesthood”, is the prohibition on leaven in the Temple (Shemot, 34-25, and elsewhere), which applies to all of the Jewish people during their Pesach sacrifice and subsequent holiday.
[13] והיתה ציצת נובל צבי תפארתו, אשר על ראש גיא שמנים כבכורה בטרם קיץ, אשר יראה הראה אותה, בעודה בכפו יבלענה. ישעיה כ’’ח ד׳

הבאים ישרש יעקב, יציץ ופרח ישראל, ומלאו פני תבל תנובה. ישעיה כ’’ז ו׳
[14]  וישלח תבנית יד ויקחנו בציצת ראשי. יחזקאל ח׳ ג׳
[15] דומה דודי לצבי או לעפר האילים, הנה זה עומד אחר כתלנו, משגיח מן החלנות מציץ מן החרכים. שה’’ש ב׳ ט׳
[16] Consider also the interesting example of, .בפרח רשעים כמו עשב ויציצו כל פעלי און… ותבט עיני בשורי
[17] Of course the word ציץ‘s meanings of blossom and peek are related, since blossoms are the first peeks of a plant’s flower and color.

It’s interesting to note that just like the English word peek is used to refer both to the thing that is just barely seen peeking out of a crack, and to the person that is peeking and just barely sees something, the Hebrew word מציץ can have a similar dual use, as seen in the poetic utilization of the word מציץin the verse in Shir HaShirim referred to in note 15, where the lover peeking through the cracks in the verse can be understood as the lover looking at his beloved through the cracks (see, for example, Rashi, Rashbam and ibn Ezra), but also as the countenance of the lover just barely appearing to his beloved through the cracks (R’ Yosef Kimchi, Metzudat David and Ho’il Moshe, as well as Rashbam in Shemot 28-36) — the woman gets a glimpse of her lover, who then disappears, and later in verse 14 she beseeches him to appear again.

See also Me’or Eineyim, Bereshit and Pinchas, in the name of the Ba’al Shem Tov, that the concept of מציץ מן החרכים alludes to a person’s tendency to want to do the right thing due to the perception that people are watching and paying attention to them, and that this is in fact a manifestation of what in reality is the person’s desire to do the right thing due to their perception of God observing them. We feel and respond to our perception of human observation, but we are really perceiving God’s essence, so to speak, observing us; manifesting through our perception of humans’ perception – God is, so to speak, מציץ מן החרכים.

Here too, the Baal Shem Tov’s interpretation of the passage as reflected through this teaching can be understood as reading the word מציץ in the verse both as God observing us and watching us through the people that surround us, as well as God appearing to us through our sense of people’s observation.

The teaching contains a similar idea to the Baal Shem Tov’s well-known teaching regarding ה׳ צלך, that not only is God a shadow over the human, protecting them, but also a shadow of the human, appearing to the human as the human understands God; and is also typical of many of the Baal Shem Tov’s teachings in that it contains several layers of meaning that are related to one another and nest inside each other.
[18] With regard to the ציץ of the High Priest, there are various interpretations regarding the source of the word, for example ibn Ezra interprets it as similar to ויקחנו בציצת ראשי (see note 14), while Rashbam says it was called ציץ because it was seen, similarly to מציץ מן החרכים. It’s also possible that the source of the word was due to the shine glancing off of the ציץ, and how it added aura to the appearance of the High Priest, and made it ‘pop’, similarly to ועליו יציץ נזרו in Tehillim 132-18 (see also Chizkuni with a similar explanation). Again, of course all of these meanings are related, and it’s quite possible that the source of the word יציץ’s usage as shine and glance is itself based on light’s bursting forth from the shining object. In a similar light, R.S.R. Hirsch explains that the root word ציץ signifies something that protrudes and pops out of a surface, and that this is the source of the word’s usage for blossoms, fringes, peeking, as well as for the High Priest’s ציץ. See also Sifri, Bamidbar, 15-32, אין ציצת אלא דבר היוצא, ודבר כל שהוא, which supports to R.S.R. Hirsch’s interpretation. See also Divrei Yirmiyahu on Rambam, Mishnah Torah, Tzitzit, 1-1.

Speaking of which, it interesting to note that the ציץ, just like ציצת, incorporated a פתיל תכלת.
[19] אנושׁ כחציר ימיו, כציץ השדה כן יציץ. תהלים ק׳׳ג ט׳׳ו
[20] Rashbam and Ri Bechor Shor also note this change in the word’s meaning between verses 37 and 38. Interestingly, Rashi notes both fringes and looking as possible meanings of the word in verse 37, seemingly not taking the view that the word has different meanings in the two sentences.

The interpolation of the instruction to put techelet on the fringes coming between the two mentions of the word tzitzit, meshes well with reading a change in the word’s meaning between its two appearances, because it’s the techelet that makes the tzitzit a symbol of the Jews’ elevated status, thereby turning it in it into a handy reminder of its associated status’ accompanying behavioral requirements. ונתנו על ציצת הכנף פתיל תכלת –> והיה לכם לציצת In this reading these are not two unrelated phrases in sequence, but are in fact intended to be meaningfully read together, one related to the other.
[21] Unfortunately there is no English-language word equivalent to this concept, so I coined the word glance-object, or alternatively, look-object, somewhat similar to the word looking-glass.
[22] See also Tanchuma Bamidbar 15, Rabah Bamidbar 17-5 – והיה לכם לציצית, שתהא נראית… וראיתם אותו, פרט לכסות לילה. The word tzitzit itself already includes in its meaning the concept of being seen, even without the addition of וראיתם אותו.

Interestingly, this interpretation is first provided by the midrash in verse 38, and not in verse 37, while the Sifri’s exposition of the word tzitzit as signifying anything that protrudes, mentioned in note 18 above (and which seemingly contradicts the continuation of the midrash here in Tanchuma that provides a minimum length for tzitzit based on the requirement for it to be seen), is provided in verse 37. This seems to lend support to the idea that the meaning of the word changes between the two sentences.

Reading the first two uses of the word as fringes, and the third as referring to a larger mitzva of tzitzit with a broader meaning that encompasses both the fringe element and the techelet element works very well with the Rambam’s reading of tzitzit as two elements of one larger mitzva. Rambam, Mishnah Torah, Tzitzit, Chapter 1, Sections 1-5. Furthermore, with this perspective in mind we can also posit that the fringe element of the mitzva does not require a particular length, in accordance with the Tanchuma, while the combined fringe-techelet full mitzva of tzitzit requires a particular length, in accordance with the Sifri, since it is predicated on being seen. And in fact we must reconcile the Tanchuma and Sifri’s two readings halachically, and cannot read them as conflicting opinions, since the Sifri cites the elders of Bet Shamai and Bet Hillel as concurring on the point that tzitzit can be of any length as long as they protrude, while the Tanchuma cites a disagreement between Bet Hillel and Bet Shamai regarding different required lengths for tzitzit based on the requirement for them to be seen. In consonance with the Rambam’s reading and the explanation provided here, the two readings do not in fact contradict each other, neither halachically nor as a literary reading of the text, both of which support each other.

Incidentally, this is a case where one can follow the thread of halachic development very well. The Torah itself simply states in straightforward terms that one should create fringes at the ends of garments, and place techelet on the fringes, to have it be seen and serve as a reminder of the mitzvot. Chazal then flesh out the parameters more precisely based on the passages’ words and contextualized meanings — explaining tzitzit’s baseline concept as a simple protrusion, while noting that fulfillment of the fuller concept and its service as a seeable reminder requires a minimum that can be seen. The Rambam then forms the mitzva into a categorical set of parameterized components and rules tracking the requirements and concepts set out by Chazal. At each stage the mitzva and its details are presented using the language and conceptualization familiar to the Torah and expositors of the particular period, while expressing the same underlying ideas.
[23] Another interesting bit of wordplay in the passage is the juxtaposition of the words tzitzit and mitzvot. Both are somewhat similarly-sounding, and indeed, the tzitzit stand in as a reminder of the mitzvot.

I recall noticing as a child in shul, that when we got to the end of Keriyat Shema, you’d suddenly hear a lot of tz’s, s’s and z’s in the room, which had an interesting sound and ring to it. I used to think it was just a kind of funny random thing a child notices, but it turns out that the particularly perfusive profusion of sound in the passage is not an accident but in fact a feature of the passage’s poetry and wordplay (not dissimilar, for example, to the line צבאות צאנך יצלצלו בקול in Hakalir’s אדירי איומה, recited by Ashkenazim during shacharit on the first day of Rosh Hashana, or the line אלו ואלו בצפצוף מצפצפים in the similarly styled כל שנאני שחק, recited in the same place in the service on the second day).

And if we want to stretch the exercise further we might even say that the ז׳ in זכרתם also serves as a poetic counterpoint to the ז׳ in זנים – the tzitzit pull one back to the mitzvot, acting as a reminder to keep the mitzvot and not wander after the temptations pulling one away.
[24] The midrash is as follows, “’And Korach took…’ What is written prior to this matter, “Speak to the children of Israel and tell them to make themselves tzitzit”. Korach jumped on this point and said to Moshe, “does a garment all of techelet require tzitzit?” Moshe said to him it requires tzitzit. Said Korach, “a garment all of techelet does not exempt itself, and four threads exempt it?” Tanchuma Korach, Siman 2. Another story with a slightly different spin on how Korach arranged talitot and tzitzit to illustrate the ideas behind his argument is presented several lines later in the same midrash.

Note that the midrash also seems to be explicating the phrase “Vayikach Korach”, which is anomalous in that there is no object connected to the subject and verb. The Midrash explains that Korach “took” the chapter and the ideas that immediately precede the word “vayikach”. See also Tanchuma at the start of Siman 3, which states “ויקח קרח – לקח טליתו”, which seems to be phrasing the idea in a similar way, explicating the word “vayikach”.
[25] This is a good example of how classic midrash analyzes and identifies the literary references, and the larger ideas, meanings and messages, that underlie the Torah’s words, phrases and narratives, and their relationships and connections; and explicates and illustrates them using memorable story-form, metaphor and allegory.
[26] This is often the case with midrash. Our written versions of a particular midrashic teaching may quote only a brief snippet of the relevant verse being analyzed, while the full breadth and point of the midrash’s teaching become evident only in the light of, and often apply to, a much fuller extent of the quoted verse(s).
[27] The word צדקו in this verse also serves as a cross-reference to the word צדיק in the Tehillim verses.
[28] An additional connotation of the teaching is that the greater the Torah is (יגדיל), and the more commandments and rules it has, the mightier it is, and the more effect it has (יאדיר).
[29] The verse ה׳ חפץ למען צדקו as exposited in this midrash can also be read as a reference to the verse regarding tzitzit in Devarim 22-12, where tzitzit are called גדלים. ה׳ חפץ למען צדקו יגדיל תורה ויאדיר – in order to increase His desired righteousness, God represented the Torah and mitzvot in the gedilim, so that their wearers may perform the many mitzvot in the Torah and become great. And in fact the verseגדלים תעשה לך על ארבע כנפות כסותך in Devarim 22 – 12 comes directly after several of the other verses quoted in this midrash regarding the many and various mitzvot – the four verses directly preceding גדלים תעשה לך are all directly quoted in the midrash.
[30] This Mishna’s teaching reflects very well Chazal’s own project of building and enlarging Torah shebe’al peh as a means of clarifying, sharpening and expanding the contours of mitzvot and of the Torah, so that they serve as a stronger spiritual lattice and framework for the Jewish people, particularly after the loss of the Temple and its symbolic and ritualistic role as an identifying marker and base for Israel and for its connection to God, and following the exilic loss of the Jewish people’s identity tied to a land and a governing nation. מיום שחרב ביהמ”ק אין לו להקב”ה אלא ד’ אמות של הלכה בלבד (ברכות ח.) – the laws and rules of halacha act as a framework on which the Jewish people’s relationship with God establishes itself and is based upon, thereby serving as a space for God in this world, so to speak, in place of the Bet Hamikdash which had previously served this role.




Review of James A. Diamond, “Maimonides and the Shaping of the Jewish Canon” (2014) by Menachem Kellner

Review of James A. Diamond, “Maimonides and the Shaping of the Jewish
Canon”
(2014)
by Menachem Kellner
Menachem Kellner
is Chair of the Department of Philosophy and Jewish Thought at Shalem College,
Jerusalem, and the Wolfson Professor Emeritus of Jewish Thought at the
University of Haifa, where, among many other posts, he served as Dean of
Students and Chair of the Department of Maritime Civilizations, and founding
director of Be-Zavta, a program in Jewish enrichment. His most recent book is Menachem Kellner: Jewish Universalism,
edited by Hava Tirosh-Samuelson and Aaron Hughes in Brill’s Library of Contemporary
Jewish Philosophers, and is available here.
Bar-Ilan University Press is about to publish his next book, Gam Hem Keruyim Adam: Ha-Nokhri be-Einei
ha-Rambam
.
This is
Professor Kellner’s second contribution to the
Seforim blog
. His previous essay, “Who is the Person Whom Rambam Says Can
be ‘Consecrated as the Holy of Holies’?” was published in 2007 and is available
here.
In People of the Book: Canon, Meaning, and
Authority
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1997) Moshe Halbertal
distinguishes between normative and formative canons. Texts which are canonical
in the normative sense are obeyed and followed; they provide the group loyal to
the text with guides to behavior and belief. Formative canonical texts, on the
other hand, are “taught, read, transmitted, and interpreted … they provide
a society or a profession with a shared vocabulary” (p. 3).
In his brave new
book, Maimonides and the Shaping of the
Jewish Canon
(New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014), James A.
Diamond, the Lebovic Professor of Jewish Studies at the University of Waterloo
(link),
sets out to prove that “at virtually every critical turn in Jewish
thought, one confronts Maimonidean formulations in one way or another” (p.
263). Diamond’s claim is actually much stronger than that. He sets out to prove
that the collected works of Rambam, alongside the Bible, Talmud, and Zohar
“comprise the core spiritual and intellectual canon of Judaism” (p.
266).
Diamond makes
his argument through a series of case studies, each one focusing on a different
thinker: Ramban, Ritva, Abravanel, ibn Gabbai, Spinoza, Hermann Cohen, Neziv,
and finally Rav Kook. These chapters constitute “a discussion of the long
and continuing history of exegetical entanglements with Maimonidean
thought…” (p. 26).
Diamond sets the
stage with two chapters on Rambam himself, in which he makes a subtle and
sophisticated argument to the effect that Rambam set the agenda for the future
of Jewish thought by providing an “inextricable link between philosophy,
law, and narrative” (p. 11).
In these two
chapters Diamond continues the methodological breakthroughs of his two previous
books on Rambam, Maimonides and the
Hermeneutics of Concealment
(Albany: SUNY Press, 2002) and Converts, Heretics, and Lepers: Maimonides
and the Outsider
(Noted Dame: Notre Dame University Press, 2007). The first
book has literally changed the face of academic Maimonidean studies and
deserves to be much better known outside of the academy. The book exemplifies a
sophisticated methodology for reading the Guide
of the Perplexed
. This approach may be characterized as follows: Diamond
takes Rambam at his word – to wit, that he was writing a book of biblical and
rabbinic exegesis – and cleverly and closely follows Rambam’s exegesis of his
sources. It takes a person of rare abilities to do this as well as Diamond
does; he is blessed with an impressive mixture of native literary abilities
combined with extensive reading of rabbinic sources and rigid training in law
and philosophy (he was originally a lawyer before realizing that life could be
much more interesting with a PhD in philosophy). Prof. Diamond’s reading of
Rambam’s exegesis of his sources is extremely convincing. Diamond also follows
my wife’s safe advice. She constantly reminds me: remember to tell your
students, Rambam was also a rabbi
(and not just a philosopher).
Diamond’s second
book consists of a series of extraordinarily close readings of core texts of
Rambam’s, readings which illuminate the delicate and multilayered interplay
between philosophical and religious ideas in his thought. As in his previous
work, Diamond convincingly illustrated the way in which Ramabam carefully
chooses, subtly interprets, and circumspectly weaves together rabbinic
materials to address philosophers and talmudists alike, each in their own
idiom.
In his first two
books, Diamond takes a linguistic pebble and throws it into the sea of Rambam’s
thought, following the ripples where they lead: verses connect to verses and to
rabbinic glosses upon them, which in turn lead to further exegetical and
philosophical ripples. In this, his third book, he uses the same subtle and
learned method to analyze the ways in which eight prominent post-Maimonideans
from the Thirteenth Century through the Twentieth engage Rambam’s thought, in
order to break away from it, or break it away from its medieval context to
adapt it to the ages in which they lived (p. 5).
Diamond’s claim
is stronger than the oft-noted influence of Rambam on radically different
thinkers. Indeed, there is hardly a Jewish thinker who does not claim to
represent Rambam in his or her world – as I often say, the two greatest
misrepresenters of Rambam in the 20th century were the Rebbe of
Lubavitch and the Rebbe of (Yeshayahu) Leibowitz. We have recently been treated
to a new-agish Rambam by Micah Goodman (Maimonides
and the Book That Changed Judaism: Secrets of the Guide for the Perplexed
)
and (once again!) to a Kabbalistic Rambam in Mevikh Maskilim (!) by Rabbi Shlomo Toledano. In the chapters of
this book James Diamond does more than show how various thinkers have
appropriated Rambam to their needs – he demonstrates how Rambam was a formative
influence on the Jewish self-perceptions of a wide variety of central Jewish
thinkers.
In the first of
these chapters, on Ramban (“Launching the Kabbalistic Assault”),
Diamond shows how Ramban’s theology 
“can only be fully appreciated in its counterexegesis, reaction to,
and reworking of Maimonides’ own theology and philosophical exegesis” (p.
69). Fully aware of what Rambam was doing, Ramban sought to present an
alternative vision of Judaism (just as I have argued elsewhere, Rambam himself
sought to present an alternative vision of Judaism to that which found
expression in Halevi’s Kuzari). Thus,
for example, for Ramban “Jewish history inheres in Abraham’s biography
both physically and metaphysically, to be played out by his biological
descendants, [while] for Maimonides Abraham’s life provides a manual on how to
qualify as his ideological offspring” (p. 74). In this typically
beautifully written and densely packed sentence, Diamond presents one of the core
differences between the Judaisms of Rambam and of Ramban. Students of the two
rabbis will see here hints at Ramban’s view of Torah stories as prefiguring
Jewish history (itself a cunning subversion of a classic Christian trope) and
at Rambam’s opposed essential lack of interest in history per se (even Jewish
history) and his construal of Judaism as a community of true believers, defined
by ideology, not by descent.
This is just one
of the many ways in which James Diamond teases out the essential differences
between Rambam and Ramban. I would like to stress that as much as Ramban was
clearly aware of these differences (as brilliantly elucidated by Diamond), and
as much as he rejected Rambam’s picture of Judaism, Voltare- like he still
defended Rambam’s right to be wrong. It would be wonderful if today’s rabbinic
leadership would take a “musar
haskel
” from Ramban’s behavior in this matter.
Rabbi Yom Tov
Ishbili (Ritva) belonged to Ramban’s school, and I would like to think that one
of the lessons he learned from Ramban was to defend Rambam without agreeing
with him, as he does in Sefer ha-Zikkaron,
closely analyzed by Diamond in chapter four, “Pushing Back the  Assault.” Diamond detects in Ritva an
“ideological retreat from Nahmanideanism toward Maimonideanism” (p.
88). This “retreat” is not a rejection of the world of Ramban,  but, rather, an attempt to salvage
“rationalism and reserve a space for it alongside Kabbalah within Jewish
practice and belief” (p. 113).
In chapter five
we are presented with a Don Isaac Abravanel “who struggled with
Maimonides’ thought throughout his prolific career” (p. 116); a specific
locus of that struggle was Rambam’s account of the Akedah. Abravanel, it has famously been reported, used to end
lectures on Rambam in Lisbon with the statement: “these are the views of
Rabbenu Moshe, but not those of Moshe Rabbenu.” Here again, we see an
attempt to keep Rambam within the fold, without denying the challenges he
presents to more conservative interpretations of Judaism. It is one of the most
important contributions of Diamond’s book that time and again he shows us how
medieval thinkers rejected much of what Rambam taught, without denying that he
taught it. Comparing the approaches of Ramban, Ritva, and Abravanel to the
furor surrounding the so-called Slifkin affair and the writings of many
contemporary rabbis, makes one almost believe in the decline of the
generations.
The chapter
which I personally found most interesting was about Meir ibn Gabbai, the
Sixteenth Century kabbalist, largely because he is the figure treated by
Diamond about whom I knew the least. Chapter Six, “The Aimlessness of
Philosophy” examines ibn Gabbai’s Avodat
ha-Kodesh
, one of the most popular works of pre-Lurianic Kabbalah. This
kabbalistic digest is “inextricably intertwined with a withering critique
of  Maimonidean rationalism” (p.
138), further evidence for  Moshe Idel’s
claim  that Rambam was a “negative
catalyzer” for kabbalistic conceptions. Ibn Gabbai’s world was thus one
“where Maimonides’ thought inspired fierce rejection, while ironically at
the same time providing  a fertile
repository of ideas, exegesis, and terminology for the advancement of
kabbalistic thought and interpretation” (p. 137).
Rambam was so
important for a figure like ibn Gabbai that the latter felt forced to accept
the widespread legend concerning Rambam’s 
alleged “conversion” to Kabbalah at the end of his life. That
this legend was so widespread, and that ibn Gabbai and many others contributed to
spreading it, is powerful support for the thesis of Diamond’s book about the
centrality of Rambam in forming the Jewish canon. Rambam is so important and
central a figure, that a Kabbalist cannot allow him to remain outside the fold.
I will leave
discussions of the last four chapters of Maimonides
and the Shaping of the Jewish Canon
(on Spinoza, Hermann Cohen, Neziv, and
Rav Kook) to specialists in modern Jewish thought. To this reader, at least,
they appeared every bit as insightful and illuminating as the six chapters
outlined here. One comment, however begs to be made. Diamond’s concluding
chapter deals with a twentieth century writer one rarely sees, if ever,
mentioned alongside Maimonides — Franz Kafka. Intriguingly, Diamond’s argument
is that even a contemporary, secular, Jewish diarist, thinker, and novelist is
both made possible and understood better when read against the grain of
Maimonides. In this case  Diamond argues that Kafka, the pessimistic
prophet of gloom and alienation in the modern age, takes Maimonides’ negative
theology to its logical extreme and leaves us with a sobering thought
  especially in a post-Shoah age. If Maimonides’ “theology of
negation ends in the breakdown of both intellect and language,” then perhaps it
also “can all too easily lead to a theology of brokenness and alienation, and
to the parables of Kafka.”

Did Maimonides
indeed shape the Jewish canon alongside Bible, Talmud, Midrash, and Zohar? Each
reader of this remarkable book will have to make up her or his mind on this
issue. What cannot be denied is that each such reader will finish the book
enriched, enlightened, and challenged.