Mayer I. Gruber — How Did Rashi Make a Living?

How Did Rashi Make a Living?[1]

Mayer I. Gruber

Professor in the Department of Bible Archaeology and the Ancient Near East

Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Beersheva, Israel

It has long been taken for granted that Rashi engaged in viticulture, which is to say, the cultivation of vineyards and the preparation and sale of wine made from the grapes he cultivated.[2] However, in 1978 the question of how Rashi made a living was reopened by Haym Soloveitchik.[3] Indeed, Soloveitchik asserted: “Indeed the presumption is against anyone being a winegrower in Troyes. Its chalky soil is inhospitable to viticulture. . . .”[4] Soloveitchik went further and declared, “Rashi may nevertheless have been a vintner; but by the same measure he may have been an egg salesman.”[5]

Since, on the face of it, Soloveitchik had declared that being a vintner, i.e., a cultivator of vineyards, and being an egg salesman were equally plausible careers for Rashi, notwithstanding Soloveitchik’s unequivocal declaration that the soil of Troyes was “inhospitable to viticulture,” it seemed worthwhile to me to explore three questions. These were 1) Rashi’s association with eggs; 2) the plausibility and implausibility of viticulture in Rashi’s vicinity; and 3) alternative careers for Rashi in view of the alleged inhospitability of Rashi’s native city of Troyes to viticulture.

Eggs

A perusal of the published responsa of Rashi reveals that, in fact, eggs were a favorite in Rashi’s diet. Rashi’s famous disciple Shemayah[6] tells us that on more than one occasion he had seen that Rashi was served grilled meat[7] or fried eggs with honey.[8] The latter delicacy was called in Old French ab-bstr.[9] Moreover, Shemayah informs us that Rashi was wont to pronounced the berakhah shehakkol ‘by whose will all things come into being’ and consume these foods prior to beginning the meal with washing of the hands and the berakhah over bread.[10] Shemayah explains that Rashi informed him that the reason he did not wash his hands and recite ha-motzi over bread before eating eggs fried with honey is as follows: “This is much more enjoyable to me than bread, and I like bestowing my benedictions to laud my Creator with respect to [the food that I love].”[11]

What this halakhic text tells us about Rashi and eggs is that fried eggs mixed with honey were among his favorite foods, which he enjoyed so much that he ate them as an appetizer before the meal itself which began with the washing of the hands and ha-motzi. Fried eggs mixed with honey[12] were among the food items for which Rashi had no patience to wait. Notwithstanding Rashi’s enjoyment of fried eggs, neither this text nor any other text so far published intimates that Rashi was engaged in either the retail or wholesale trade in eggs. On the contrary, the following responsum demonstrates that Rashi received eggs and other edible products for his personal consumption from others:

It happened to me, Solomon ha-Yitzhaqi. A Gentile sent me cakes and eggs on the eighth day of Passover. The Gentile entered the courtyard and called to my wife, and my wife sent a messenger to the synagogue. Thereupon, I gave instructions to keep the eggs in a corner until the evening. In the evening [after the end of Passover] I permitted their use allowing the amount of time that it would have taken [to bring them to my house had they set out for my house after the this time [when the holiday had already ended].[13]
Cows and Sheep

Several of Rashi’s responsa suggest that he and other Jewish residents of Troyes from time to time owned pregnant cows and ewes.[14] None of these texts accounts suggest that either Rashi or the other Jews mentioned in these responsa owned herds of cattle or flocks of sheep. The one cow or sheep was probably the family’s source of dairy products. In each of the recorded instances Rashi advised divesting oneself of ownership in favor of a Gentile so as to avoid being subject to the mitzvah of redeeming the firstborn male of a cow or ewe, a mitzvah which cannot be accomplished in the absence of the Temple (see Deut. 12:6, 17: 14:23). In the one instance where one of Rashi’s Jewish neighbors made the mistake of acquiring and slaughtering for meat a firstborn lamb born of a ewe of which the Jew was legal owner, Rashi decided that the only recourse was to bury the slaughtered lamb half on Rashi’s property and half on the other Jew’s property so that the act of burying all that meat would be less conspicuous and the Jews would not be suspected by their neighbors of engaging in some kind of witchcraft.[15]

According to Rashi’s own testimony he acquired and ate eggs. To date, however, there is no evidence that he was an egg salesman. Likewise, on more than one occasion Rashi owned a cow or a sheep. However, owning an occasional cow or sheep did not make Rashi into a rancher or a cowboy. Likewise, numerous testimonies both in his response as well as in his commentary to Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 18a and in his biblical commentary on Jer. 25:30 to Rashi’s familiarity with the details of wine production do not prove that Rashi actually cultivated vineyards either for private use or for commercial purposes.[16] As argued by Soloveitchik, all the texts bearing upon Rashi’s familiarity with wine production serve only to demonstrate that, in fact, the Jews of Troyes in Rashi’s era had to produce their own wine because halakhah prohibited Jews from consuming wine produced by Gentiles.[17]


Wine barrel with Rashi’s seal

The reference in a responsum by Rashi to a wine barrel that bore Rashi’s seal[18] does not necessarily make Rashi a commercial producer of either grapes or wine any more than does his ownership of a pregnant cow make him a cowboy. On the other hand, another responsum by Rashi refers to a Jewish borrower who pledged a vineyard as collateral for a loan.[19] The latter text is one of a number of texts[20] which suggest that Soloveitchik may have gone too far in arguing that one of the reasons that Rashi could not have been a vintner is that the region in which he lived could not support viticulture.[21]

So how then did Rashi make a living?


In the conventional presentation of Rashi’s biography[22] Rashi is assumed to have been a vintner by profession and the head of an academy of Jewish learning as an avocation. However, when Baron so described Rashi, the corpus of Rashi’s Responsa had not yet been published by Elfenbein.[23] The facts, which can be culled from examination of the responsa, hardly portray Rashi as an amateur rabbi/scholar or his yeshivah as a hobby.

In fact, the conventional presentation of Rashi’s biography also fosters the widely accepted notion that religious instruction, the study of sacred texts whether from a historical, halakhic, or a theological perspective, whether in the university, the yeshivah, the modern rabbinical seminary, the Jewish day school, or seminaries for teachers, or wherever, is or should be essentially a leisure activity. Careful reading of Rashi’s responsa for what they tell us about daily life among Rashi and his disciples reveals that Rashi himself succeeded by his very professionalism in his very careful and by no means subtle design for making his yeshivah an intellectual and spiritual center for all of world Jewry and indeed, for all persons both friendly and hostile, who wished to understand the Torah.

Rashi as Gaon

It is no accident therefore that Rashi’s yeshivah was called Yeshivat Geon Yaakov “the Yeshivah of the Glory of Jacob,” the official name of the academy that still functioned in Baghdad in Rashi’s time, and which claimed to have been founded by Rav in 219 CE in Sura. Likewise, Rashi’s title was Rosh Yeshivat Geon Yaakov, “Head of the Yeshivah of the Glory of Jacob.”[24] Also, like the heads of the Babylonian Jewish academies, Rashi referred to himself by the title of the spiritual leaders of Babylonian Jewry, Gaon.[25]

Apparently, it was from the funding he received from communal assets paid on behalf of his students by the communities from which they came,[26] Rashi was able to dress himself, his wife, and his daughters in the style that befits a spiritual, intellectual, and communal leader of Jewry far beyond the boundaries of Troyes.

Implications for Today

Indeed, it may change the way we relate to our schools of Jewish learning and our programs of Jewish learning, both religious and secular, if we can liberate ourselves from the view that for Rashi, Rabban shel Yisrael,[27] our mentor, par excellence, studying Torah, teaching Torah, and adding to the corpus of Torah literature, were all hobbies, rather than aspects of a profession. Once it is grasped that Rashi’s Torah activities constituted a profession, we may begin to treat not only the people who raise money for and administer Torah institutions and programs for the academic study of Judaism as persons who deserve to make a living from what they do but also those who study and teach to extend the frontiers of our knowledge and to broaden the base of persons, who are privy to this rich heritage. Likewise, seriously treating day school teaching as a profession might have a positive effect on both the working conditions and pay of day school teachers and the way in which the children of the fortunate treat their teachers.

Notes:

[1] This article is based upon material found in the Introduction to Mayer I. Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms (Brill Reference Library of Judaism, vol. 18; Leiden & Boston, Brill, 2004), and is published at the Seforim blog with permission of Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden. Special thanks are due to Editor Michiel Klein Swormink of Koninklije Brill in Boston.

[2] Maurice Liber, Rashi, trans. Adele Szold (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1906), 56; Irving Agus, The Heroic Age of Franco-German Jewry (New York: Yeshiva University Press, 1969), 173; Israel S. Elfenbein, “Rashi in His Responsa,” in Rashi, His Teachings and Personality, ed. Simon Federbusch (New York: Cultural Divison of the World Jewish Congress, 1958), 67; Salo W. Baron, “Rashi and the Community of Troyes,” in Rashi Anniversary Volume, ed. H. L. Ginsberg (New York: American Academy for Jewish Research, 1941), 60.

[3] Haym Soloveitchik, “Can Halakhic Texts Talk History?” AJS Review 3 (1978): 153-196.

[4] Ibid., p. 172, n. 54.

[5] Ibid.

[6] For the important contributions of Shemayah, who was Rashi’s personal secretary, who edited Rashi’s personal correspondence, wrote commentaries on the piyyutim of Eliezer ha-Kalir, helped Rashi edit the final versions of Rashi’s commentaries on Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Psalms, and composed glosses on Rashi’s commentary, which are preserved in Leipzig Stadtbiliothek, Ms. Wagenseil, B.H. fol. I, see the extensive discussion in Avraham Grossman, The Early Sages of France (2d ed.; Jerusalem: Magnes, 1997), 174, 347-426 (in Hebrew).

[7] For the different possible textual readings and their respective meanings see Israel Elfenbein, Responsa Rashi (New York: Shulsinger, 1943),114 #86, nn. 4-5.

[8] Elfenbein, Responsa Rashi, 310-11 #270.

[9] Ibid., 310, n. 1.

[10] Ibid., 215.

[11] Ibid.

[12] The text of the responsum refers, in fact, to eggs fried in honey. In light of the commentary of Nissim Gerondi (commonly known in the yeshivah world as “the RaN, at the top of Babylonian Talmud, Nedarim 52b, it appears that “fried in honey” is a literary convention in Rabbinic Hebrew for “mixed in honey and fried [in oil].” For this information I am indebted to Professor Alan Witztum, Professor of Botany at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Beersheva, Israel.

[13] Elfenbein, Responsa Rashi, 142 #114. Here Rashi takes for granted the principle attributed to Rav Papa in Babylonian Talmud, Betza 24a: If a Gentile brought a Jew a present at night just after the end of a Jewish festival, the Jew may benefit from the gift only after the elapse of enough time for the Gentile to have prepared the gift after the end of the festival.

[14] Elfenbein, Responsa Rashi, 202-03, #182-184; contrast Emily Taitz, The Jews of Medieval France (Contributions to the Study of World History, no. 45; Westport, Ct.: Greenwood Press, 1994), 85.

[15] Elfenbein, Responsa Rashi, 202 #182.

[16] Contrast Moche Catane, La Vie en France aus lle siecle e’apres les ecrits de Rachi (Jerusalem: Editions Gallia, 1994), 130-31; cf. Taitz, 72-77.

[17] Soloveitchik, 172-73. Of course, the original reason for the prohibition was the presumption that virtually all Gentiles worshipped a multiplicity of gods and that wine from virtually any barrel of wine they sold or gave to Jew had been poured out as a libation in the worship of “other gods.” Later the Rabbinic Sages (Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 17b) extended this prohibition to any wine that had been touched by any Gentile so as to discourage socializing that might lead to intermarriage and thereby to the total assimilation of the Jewish people.

[18] Oxford Bodleian Ms. Oppenheim 276, p. 35a, cited by Grossman, The Early Sages of France, 132; 135, n. 45.

[19] Elfenbein, Responsa Rashi, 66, #61; see also the discussion in Taitz, 84.

[20] Note, for example, the “ordinance of Rashi” in Louis Finkelstein, Jewish Self Government in the Middle Ages (2d printing; New York: Feldheim, 1964), 147, which specifically exempts from taxation by the self-governing Jewish community of greater Troyes household items, houses, vineyards, and fields; see the discussion in Robert Chazan, Medieval Jewry in Northern France: A Political and Social History (Baltimore & London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1973), 16. See also the account of the case that came before R. Joseph b. Samuel Tob-Elem (Bonfils) at the end of the 10th and the beginning of the 11th century CE concerning the attempt of the community of Troyes to ignore, with respect to a certain Leah, the community’s traditional exemption of vineyards from taxation. Fortunately for this Leah, the learned R. Joseph agreed with her that the traditional exemption should be upheld. See Chazan, 15-16. Irving Agus, Urban Civilization in Pre-Crusade (2 vols.; New York Yeshiva University Press, 1965), 438-446 anticipates Soloveitchik’s attempt to play down the importance of vineyards in the economic life of the Jews of Troyes in the time of Rashi, and he goes so far as to argue from silence that Leah was at that time the only owner of a substantial vineyard. In any case, both the litigation in question and the reference to vineyards along with household goods and houses in the so-called “ordinance of Rashi” should put to rest the contention that the soil of greater Troyes was inhospitable to viticulture. See also the numerous references to wine production in Rashi’s commentaries on the Babylonian Talmud where Rashi frequently contrasts the realia referred to in the Talmud with the corresponding realia in 11th-12th century CE Troyes; these sources are listed and analyzed in Catane, La Vie en France aus lle siecle d’apres les ecrits de Rachi, 130-133; see also the references in Rashi’s responses to Jews’ hiring Christians to carry wine casks; see Elfenbein, Responsa Rashi, #160; #260; see Taitz, 84.

[21] Soloveitchik, 172, n. 54.

[22] In addition to Baron and the other authorities cited in n. 2 above, see passim in Taitz; and see also Herman Hailperin, Rashi and the Christian Scholars (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1963), 268, nn. 10-11; Grossman, The Early Sages of France, 121, n. 1; 130, n. 31; and see also Mordechai Breuer, “Toward the Investigation of the Typology of Western yeshivot in the Middle Ages,” in Studies in the History of Jewish Society in the Middle Ages and in the Modern Period: Presented to Professor Jacob Katz on his Seventy-Fifth Birthday, ed. E. Etkes and Y. Salmon (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1980), 49, n. 26 (in Hebrew).

[23] See above; additional responsa are discussed in Grossman, The Early Sages of France, 127-159; see also Soloveitchik, 153-196.

[24] Elfenbein, Responsa Rashi, 93 #73.

[25] Ibid., 245-246 # 115.

[26] Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 20-22; see Norman Golb, The Jews in Medieval Normandy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 154-196.

[27] For the sources of this explanation of the acronym Rashi see Gruber, Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms, 1, n. 1.

Mayer I. Gruber is Professor in the Department of Bible Archaeology and Ancient Near East at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev in Beersheva, Israel. He received his Ph.D. in Ancient Semitic Languages & Literatures at Columbia University in the City of New York (1977). Gruber also earned Rabbinic Ordination at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America in New York (1970). Prior to aliyah with his family in 1980, Gruber taught at Spertus College of Judaica in Chicago and was rabbi of Mikdosh El Hagro Hebrew Center in Evanston, Illinois.

Gruber’s Rashi’s Commentary on Psalms (Leiden: Brill, 2004), which includes the Hebrew text of Rashi’s Commentary, an English translation, a supercommentary on the form of notes, and a comprehensive introduction to Rashi’s life and work. Gruber’s other publications include a series of articles on the diagrams, which Rashi included in his biblical commentaries, a collection of Gruber’s articles entitled, The Motherhood of God and Other Studies (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992; now available from University Press of America in Lanham, Md.); additional studies on women in the biblical world and early Judaism; Aspects of Nonverbal Communication in the Ancient Near East (2 vols.; Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1980), which deals with gesture language and its impact on the vocabulary of Biblical Hebrew and other ancient Semitic languages; the commentary on Job in the Oxford Jewish Study Bible (2003); and the revision of the entry “Job” in the 2d edition of the Encyclopaedia Judaica (2006).



Torah Genius, Infallibility and Augmented Intelligence

Torah Genius, Infallibility and Augmented Intelligence

by Avinoam Fraenkel

For details of Avinoam Fraenkel’s new book, Shomer Emunim: The Introduction to Kabbalah, and his previous two-volume Nefesh HaTzimtzum, see here.

To view his series of short Shomer Emunim Kabbalah explainers, that introduce the basic concepts of Arizal’s Kabbalah in the context of contemporary science and technology, see here.

This essay explores the nature of Torah genius, and how it can be dramatically enhanced by embracing technology. It investigates why, notwithstanding the remarkable awe-inspiring stature of true Torah geniuses, they must never be thought of as being beyond genuine human error. It also provides some insights on how the accelerating technological changes we are all witnessing around us, may shape the abilities of the Torah genius of the future.

With its central focus on Torah study, Jewish society has always prized scholastic excellence. Throughout the ages, the pursuit of excellence has been used as the primary tool to motivate Torah students. The Talmud therefore queries which of two types of Torah genius is optimal.[1] Would it be the “Sinai,” the person whose predominant skill is the instant recall and mastery over the breadth of scholarly sources, as fresh as if just heard at Mount Sinai? Or could it be the “Oker Harim/uprooter of mountains,” one who primarily has penetratingly deep analytical skills enabling the logical clarification of issues from first principles, even if unaware of all the sources? The Talmud states that the optimal quality is that of the wide erudition of the “Sinai.”

Some argue that the leaning towards being a “Sinai” was only applicable in Talmudic times due to the scarcity of written resources, and that with the proliferation of books in the age of printing, the primary skill that should now be encouraged is the “Oker Harim.” However, it appears that in the main, rabbinic consensus sides with the Talmud, in that while the intellect of the “Oker Harim” is certainly valued, the sheer scope of knowledge of the “Sinai” is deemed advantageous.[2] Jewish literature frequently records instances of great rabbis who were seen to have developed a balanced hybrid of both these areas of genius, referring to them with the ultimate accolade of “Sinai and Oker Harim.”

Nevertheless, it is also clear that gifted genius can sometimes not only be less than optimal in achieving correct Torah understandings but can even be an impediment. R. Avraham Yeshaya Karelitz, the Chazon Ish, beautifully expressed this paradox. Sometimes with great people who are geniuses and are lightning-fast at grasping concepts, it can be that their very genius puts them at risk of simply missing the point, especially with complex, deep topics expressed in difficult language. The Chazon Ish wrote a response challenging the Halachic legal ruling made by R. Yechiel Meir Tukachinsky about the nature of the International Date Line. R. Tukachinsky was known to be a genius not only in Halachic law but also in mathematics, which he used in arriving at this ruling. The Chazon Ish’s Halachic critique of R. Tukachinsky was published in Kuntres Shmoneh Esreh Shaot, where he includes the following statement:

It is human nature to read the contents of a book superficially and quickly, like when reading a letter. One of the attributes of acquiring wisdom is to become accustomed to being precise with the language of the Sages as their words were written with analytical precision. Reading quickly and reading analytically are generally opposites with divergent outcomes. Because of the human tendency to be hasty, which is especially so with those who grasp concepts quickly [with geniuses], it happens that Sages read books and attribute things to them that were not thought of [by their authors] and are indefensible, or that they don’t relate to their subtlety. This is particularly so with matters that are truly deep [expressed] with difficult text that emphasizes their depth.[3]

This same sentiment is also succinctly expressed more than once by the Talmud describing a sage who:

… because of his sharp intellect, he did not [properly] investigate it.[4]

This can be understood to be a possible flaw in the ability of an “Oker Harim,” who is potentially at risk of skimming over material and missing highly relevant information needed to reach a sound conclusion.

It can also be argued that there is a potential risk that can sometimes compromise the ability of a “Sinai” to reach correct conclusions, distorting this kind of sage’s understanding in his Torah study. This potential impediment comes from a combination of two primary factors.

The first factor is the essential nature of what Torah study has become over the millennia of exile. While the Jewish People are living in exile before the final redemption there is a lack of clarity of Torah, which is also in exile. This lack of clarity generates differences in opinion, a position that will remain until the onset of a final process of clarification with the final redemption. Consequently, it has unfortunately become second nature for us to accept differences and even great differences in all areas of potential Torah discussion. These differences deeply impact all the finer points of such discussion, ranging from the Halachic to the philosophical, and include approaches to serving God. This has cultivated a historical Torah study culture of primarily focusing on highlighting differences between views, instead of investing the lion’s share of our study effort on how to reconcile and unify these differences. Acceptance of difference is expressed by our Talmudic Sages with the principle of “both these and these are words of the Living God.”[5] This principle is used when we reach a stalemate in our understanding of a topic and cannot see any possibility of consensus, by allowing us to accept the current status quo and the acceptance of difference. It biases us to primarily focus on highlighting difference and to potentially miss opportunities for seeing unity.[6]

The second factor relates to those gifted with exceptional memories, who seldom forget anything, a key skill of a “Sinai.” The Talmud highlights that there are times when “Shikcha/forgetfulness” can be considered a blessing. In particular, in relation to the passing of beloved ones where the pain of their passing can be so great that if we were not able to forget them, our daily lives would be adversely impacted and, in some cases, we would cease to be properly functional.[7]

The dysfunctional impact of persistent memory was clearly illustrated with the case of Solomon Shereshevsky, a mnemonist, who was studied over a 30 year period starting from the 1920s, by the Russian neuropsychologist, Prof. Alexander Luria.[8] Shereshevsky’s remarkable memory was such that he retained everything he read, saw or heard, including lengthy sequences of random words and numbers, with his memory persisting with instant recall over many years. In later years, this caused Shereshevsky to have great social difficulties. He had total recall of the finest detail of every face he saw and the context in which he saw it. However, over time, a person’s face naturally changes. Most people, with regular memory ability, remember the general appearance of a person’s face without paying much attention to the finer details, and as a result, can recognize them. This is because the general appearance remains static and recognizable over time even if many finer points of detail in a person’s face change. Shereshevsky’s memory however, was so acute and precise that his memory stored the finest details of every face he saw, every time he saw it. His memory bank of faces was so vast that even the subtlest differences over time between faces of the same person were differentiated in his memory. Even differences in mood of a single person would be reflected in a different facial expression, which was enough to distinguish the face seen in one mood state from the face seen in another mood state. The result was Shereshevsky’s inability to recognize that it was the same person. While skilled in the most incredible way with the ability to identify difference, this prevented him from relating to the larger unified picture, to the extent that he became severely disabled in his ability to recognize people.

Although Shereshevsky’s case was extreme, his case helps us to understand the potential risk of error that a “Sinai” can make. Even someone with a lesser memory than Shereshevsky, but still with a significant power of instant recall of textual sources, is at risk of only seeing the difference in detail between them and of missing the bigger picture that may connect them. Such a person is in danger of sometimes not seeing the forest for the trees. This risk is significantly amplified when taking the first factor into account, where our current Torah study culture generally disposes us to focus on differences in the first place.

In sum, every person, no matter how great and how endowed with genius they may be, is therefore potentially at risk of human error.

To put the concept of potential human error on the part of our great leaders into perspective, there is no sage or leader greater than Moshe Our Teacher. Moshe was the primary lawgiver and the direct conduit through which the Jewish People received the details of most of its laws from God. Any possibility of even the slightest error on Moshe’s part would therefore risk provoking people to question the legitimacy of all the information he directly transmitted from God. In stark contrast, every other leader in Jewish History would only base their decisions on details derived from the laws received from Moshe and not directly on the word of God. The gravity of a potential error on their part would therefore be of far less consequence in comparison to an error on Moshe’s part. It would therefore be of paramount importance for Moshe to ensure that there would be no doubt cast over the accuracy of his transmission from God.

Nevertheless, Moshe considered that even with the gravity of this point, it was outweighed by the sheer magnitude of imparting a moral message to the future generations. A message that all Torah sages, no matter how distinguished, brilliant, or Divinely inspired they may be, are at risk of human error. Our Sages candidly explain an error that Moshe made in his statement of the law in an instance where his brother Aharon corrected him. Their comment in the Midrash states the following:

[The verse states] “And Moshe heard and it was good in his eyes,” [upon which the Midrash comments:] he [Moshe] made a public announcement saying, “I erred and my brother Aharon taught me.”[9]

R. Naftali Tzvi Berlin, the Netziv, highlights the significance of Moshe’s message, in his commentary on the Torah:

Moshe made a public announcement that he erred as per [Vayikra] Rabba [above]. The reason for this announcement was to teach the sages of the generation and of the future generations that a great person should neither be embarrassed nor flinch over an error in teaching, as Moshe Our Teacher also erred![10]

Therefore, no matter how great Torah leaders may be, to the extent that our Sages teach us to even accord them with an almost Divine reverence[11] and to carefully study their small talk,[12] no Torah sage is above the potential for human error and there is absolutely no concept of rabbinic infallibility in Judaism.[13]

Moreover, the possibility of potential leadership infallibility is categorically dismissed by the Torah when it explicitly provides instruction for how a Jewish High Court or leader should potentially atone, should it cause or act on an inadvertent error.[14] In Judaism the open acceptance of the possibility of unintentional human error of a leader and the forthright admission of such an error should it happen, does not compromise the preeminence of such a leader. In fact, it is the very mark of true human greatness.

On a deeper level it can be understood that it is the very nature of learning itself that requires errors to be made as part of the process of successful study. The inherent nature of analytical study is the breakdown of a concept into its component parts which are then reconstructed into a refined idea. This process is intrinsically prone to potential error as it is not straightforward to produce a refined idea from a place of conceptual breakdown. It is as the Talmud unequivocally states:

No person establishes [a proper understanding of] words of Torah unless he has first stumbled over [his interpretation of] them.[15]

R. Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, the Ramchal, amplifies this sentiment:

There is no sage that will not err and will not need to learn from his colleagues, and in many instances even from his students.[16]

R. Yosef Ergas highlights that this is even true for the most accomplished Torah scholar who regularly studies the deepest parts of the Torah, the Acts of Merkava and Creation:

It is impossible for even one who regularly studies the Acts of Merkava and Creation, not to be caused to stumble over them with some incorrect analogy and the like, to the extent that he needs the rebuke of admonition to cleanse him.[17]

Notwithstanding the sheer awe required to be accorded to one’s Torah teacher and ultimately to the Torah Sages, it does not mean there is no latitude for independent thought on the part of the student. On the contrary, the essential nature of true Torah study is such that all Torah students are actively encouraged to intellectually engage with the teachings handed down to them, independently debating and analyzing them within the framework of Torah. It was no less than R. Chaim Volozhin, a Torah sage of immense stature who deeply venerated his teachers,[18] who explains that it is the process of studious debate with one’s teacher which refines and expands a person’s understanding of Torah. He refers to it as “the war of Torah”[19] and that in the context of this war, even a father and son and a teacher and student are respectfully pitched as enemies in debate against each other[20] and that “it is forbidden for a student to accept his teacher’s words when he has serious questions about them and that sometimes the truth is with the student.”[21] It is significant that R. Chaim’s position of a student requiring independent thought was encouraged by no less than his own primary teacher, the Vilna Gaon.[22]

While it is rare for a Torah genius to err in his studies, should such an error genuinely be found, it in no way compromises the stature of that Torah sage, and that sage’s general teachings are all very much worthy of deep and close study.[23] Nevertheless, as has already been highlighted, it is the very nature of genius itself that can cause a true Torah sage to be disposed to occasional error. See examples of such occasional error in the note.[24]

As technology progresses in our current age of the “Digital Transformation,” Torah accessibility has and is being transformed in ways previously unimaginable even just a few decades ago. The widespread immediacy of textual and analytic access to huge libraries of Torah sources, has already fundamentally revolutionized the ways in which we can learn Torah. Therefore, it is now highly relevant to ask if the skills required to optimize Torah study excellence have changed in any way. More specifically, what skills should we reasonably expect the “Sinai” or a “Oker Harim” to have to acquire in our Information Age? Furthermore, is there scope to seriously reconsider which of the “Sinai” or the “Oker Harim” may now be thought of as being optimal?

Before presenting an approach to this, it is relevant to appreciate the nature of this revolutionary advancement and exactly why a change in skillset may be needed. This understanding delves deeply into the very essence of how humanity is being transformed by the Digital Transformation. Physical human beings are far from what most people conceive. We are not independent beings, separated from other life forms and materials in our world environment. Rather, we are a symbiotic composite of all those life forms and our lives are entirely dependent on them.

This is captured by an ancient understanding that there are 4 very general levels of created physical existence. These 4 levels are integrated in that they hierarchically build upon each other. First there is the inanimate, the basic minerals and materials from which everything is constructed. Then there is plant life. This is followed by animal life. The fourth and highest level is human life, a level characterized by speech, our ability to communicate in a sophisticated way. The key point here is that each higher level is a composite of all the lower levels. A human being is therefore a symbiosis of the mineral, plant and animal levels, with additional intellectual and communication dimensions that makes a person uniquely human. Surprisingly to many, the majority of the cells within a human body do not have human DNA and cannot be considered human. Nevertheless, without them a human cannot live. One example is the microbiota cells in the gut that form an essential part of digestive process. Another is the need for bacteria to stimulate the postnatal development of the brain. A human is nothing less than a symbiosis of all these levels, a remarkable ecosystem where these levels are integrated through a mind bogglingly complex set of interacting processes that are totally dependent on the wider environment.[25]

With the Digital Transformation, the ecosystem of mankind’s wider environment is fundamentally changing. It is now possible for a person to supplement and augment his intellectual abilities with computer resources. This is such that each component, the human brain (an analog processor) and the computer (a digital processor), combine their unique abilities to optimize problem solving and intellectual processes.

A striking example of this was demonstrated in the world of chess. Over an extended period, computers had been entered into chess tournaments pitted against the chess grandmasters. For many years the grandmasters always won these competitions. However, with the accelerating improvements in computing power, the inevitable happened in 1997. IBM’s Deep Blue supercomputer beat the reigning world champion, Gary Kasparov. In the face of the subsequent prospect of computers always defeating humans, a new type of chess tournament was invented. “Freestyle” tournaments were introduced where teams of human chess players and/or computers would play against each other. The shock came in 2005, when two amateur chess players with strong chess programming skills using ordinary computers, won the tournament, beating several teams of grandmasters who were supported by well-known advanced chess computers. The secret of this success is that certain human skills are unmatched by even the most powerful digital computers such that when humans and computers team up with optimum balance, the refined combination of their complementary skills gives such a team an unprecedented advantage. This resulted in an optimized inexpert human and ordinary computing hybrid that surpassed both grandmaster and supercomputer excellence.

With this in mind, we can now consider how the skills of a “Sinai” and “Oker Harim” may need to be enhanced. Traditionally, the primary skill of a “Sinai” would be to accurately amass Torah information. However, with the technological resources available today, everyone has immediate access to extensive databases and search capabilities of Jewish resources, such as the Bar-Ilan Responsa project, D.B.S., Sefaria, Hebrewbooks, Otzar HaChochma and many other internet resources. The sheer amount of information available at everyone’s fingertips far eclipses the amassed knowledge and the accurate immediacy of access to it of almost every historic “Sinai.” The skillset required to command this incredible body of knowledge is no longer the ability to amass it in the first place. Rather it is the ability to learn how to quickly identify what may be relevant out of this huge amount of information when pursuing a specific inquiry.

This is significantly assisted by mastering the use of sophisticated search tools. To do this efficiently, in addition to some computing skills needed to understand data and how to maximize use of search technology, new Torah study skills are required. To optimize searching, a deep understanding is needed of the expected similarities and differences in word usage, expression deployment and conceptual coded nuance, together with word and expression spelling differences, across the vast history of Jewish scholarship. The more effective this combined understanding, the more focused the search query and the smaller the search results. The search results can still often be large and will then require expert perusal to quickly identify which sources found are most likely to be relevant to probe further, to shed light on the inquiry being investigated. So, it seems that the key skill of a modern day “Sinai” is already fundamentally transformed and is now more about harvesting relevant information rather than having to acquire it all in the first place.

On the other hand, the primary skill of the “Oker Harim” has traditionally been one of deep analysis driven by the ability to ask penetrating questions. Perhaps the effectiveness of this skill is captured by the well-known adage “a Torah scholar’s question is already half the answer.”[26] Advanced computer searches now make it possible to ask a whole different genre of insightful questions, that were not previously possible. It is now relatively easy to investigate the development of concepts aided by the original context, usage and development of words, expressions and concepts, and to trace their historical usage over time. The greater the insight in framing the search question, the more refined the search result, enhancing the ability to harvest focused sources from which meaningful answers can be constructed. Therefore, while the adoption of technology augments the “Oker Harim’s” toolkit and dramatically extends his skillset, it has not yet fundamentally replaced it.

However, it could be strongly argued that with the currently available technology the excellence of the transformed “Sinai” is no longer the preserve of the rare genius and now has a lower entry bar accessible to a wider group of people. On the other hand, the qualities of an “Oker Harim” are thus far not yet transformed, but with the augmented ability of using technology to extend the depth of analysis, there is now an enhanced ability for the “Oker Harim” to widen the excellence gap. Moreover, it is now more than ever within the reach of an “Oker Harim” to also garner most of the skill of a current day “Sinai.” There is therefore scope to now consider that the optimum skill for scholastic excellence in Torah may indeed be that of the “Oker Harim.”[27]

Nevertheless, we are only at the beginning of the Digital Transformation. Attempting to predict what a future technology augmented “Sinai” or “Oker Harim” may be capable of, is near impossible. Technology industry experts already openly admit that with the incredible accelerating pace of technological change they can no longer predict what the technological landscape will look like in even as early as 5 years’ time. Technologies in areas such as cloud computing, big data, predictive analysis, artificial intelligence, swarm intelligence, augmented intelligence, brain research and biotechnology are rapidly developing and integrating together in truly unpredictable ways.

Although there is no clear visibility of how all this will be manifest, perhaps the most significant expected transformative change is the physical integration of humans with technology. Currently, this is at an embryonic stage, however it does already exist. Brain integrated technology already enables paraplegics to walk. Monkeys can already interact with computers through wireless brain implanted computer chips.[28] It is therefore only a matter of time before the human mind will become directly connected to an implanted computer and there will ultimately be a true symbiosis of humans with technology, literally taking mankind to a new level of existence. In this context it is impossible to predict what future transformations of the “Sinai” and “Oker Harim” will look like. One can however safely conclude that the future landscape for Torah study excellence will be unimaginably transformed and future Torah students will be motivated by the emergence of a new breed of technologically augmented Torah genius.[29]

[1] Berachot 64a; Horiot 14a.

[2] A good summary of the various views and sources is provided by R. Yisrael Eisenstein in his Amudei Eish, Siman 15, Sect. 4 (brought on p. 76a of the first edition, published in Lemberg, 1880).

[3] Kuntres Shmoneh Esreh Shaot, Chorev, Jerusalem, 1943, at the beginning of Ot 14.

[4] Eruvin 90a; Bava Batra 116b.

[5] Eruvin 13b; Gittin 6b.

[6] For in-depth discussion about the concept of “Torah in Exile” and how, in Messianic Times, there will be a “New Torah” (as per the expression in, e.g., Vayikra Rabba Shemini 13:3), that is new to us in the very specific sense that all perceived differences will be reconciled, clarified and unified, see Shomer Emunim: The Introduction to Kabbalah, pp. 923-924; Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, pp. 119-124; 126-127.

Specific examples reconciling famous differences of rabbinic opinion are presented in Shomer Emunim: The Introduction to Kabbalah, pp. 324-328. Another specific example is given in the early Chassidic work, Meor Einayim, Shemot, which prefaces it with the general statement: “We have a Torah wide principle that both these and these are words of the Living God. It is just that we won’t understand how this is so until the arrival of our Messiah, speedily in our days.” R. Shlomo Elyashiv similarly generally comments in his Leshem Shevo VeAchlama, Sefer HaDe’ah, Vol. 1, Maamar Kelali Al Yesod HaSefer, Ot 5, p. 4a, col. 1: “The concept of how the practice of Torah and Mitzvot is subject to conflicting opinions in the words of our Sages will be clarified in the times of the Messiah, how it is that both these and these are truly the words of the Living God.” Notwithstanding isolated examples of reconciliation, before the arrival of the Messiah, we are obliged to generally accept and focus on difference.

[7] Pesachim 54b, lists 3 things that were factored into the Creation to enable it to function properly, with one of them being about “the dead, that they should be forgotten from the heart/mind.” Also see Berachot 58b and Moed Katan 8b, which state different time periods after which the dead are forgotten.

[8] Prof. Luria’s The Mind of a Mnemonist (first published in 1968), recorded his research on Solomon Shereshevsky.

[9] Vayikra Rabba Shmini 13:1 quoting Vayikra 10:20. Also see Yalkut Shimoni, Shmini, Remez 533; Targum Yonatan on Vayikra 10:20.

[10] Harchev Davar commentary on Vayikra 10:20. Also see the Netziv’s Meishiv Davar 2:9.

[11] Mishna Avot 4:12, which states “the awe of your teacher should be like the awe of Heaven.”

[12] Sukkah 21b; Avodah Zarah 19b, as there is much to learn even from their incidental small talk.

[13] The Talmudic Sages are frequently recorded to have issued statements of error and retraction. E.g., “The statements I told you were my error,” in Shabbat 63b; Eruvin 16b/104a; Chulin 56a; Niddah 68a. E.g.2, “What I said was incorrect,” in Rosh Hashana 13a; Yevamot 20b; Ketuvot 33a; Gittin 23a; Bava Metzia 6b; Bava Batra 131a; Sanhedrin 61a; Makot 8a/8b; Zevachim 94a; Menachot 12b.

[14] Vayikra 4:13-26.

[15] Gittin 43a. Also see Shabbat 119b and Chagiga 14a. In Kabbalistic terminology, the concept of breakdown is known as “Shevira” and reconstruction is known as “Tikun.” The process of the creation or advancement of anything and everything in this world, whether it is the development of Torah ideas or the production of an item, goes through a process of Shevira/breakdown followed by Tikun/reconstruction/rectification. This is captured in Mishna Avot 5:23 that “according to the pain is the reward,” (or as commonly stated in contemporary language “more pain, more gain”). It is also captured by the expression commonly used in Chassidic literature of “Yerida LeTzorech Aliyah,” i.e., that a relative descent from a current level is a necessary step in order to ascend to anything higher than the current level. The concept of Shevira and Tikun and the sheer extent of its impact on our world is explained in detail in Shomer Emunim: The Introduction to Kabbalah, Kabbalah Overview, Chaps. 3-4.

[16] Mesilat Yesharim, Chap. 22.

[17] Shomer Emunim: The Introduction to Kabbalah, p. 368-369, where R. Ergas makes this comment based on a quotation he provides from Sefer HaBahir 150 immediately preceding it.

[18] R. Chaim Volozhin was the primary student of the R. Eliyahu, the Vilna Gaon. The awe and respect he had for his teacher are captured in the largest repository of student published anecdotes of the Vilna Gaon, that R. Chaim presented in his introduction to the Vilna Gaon’s commentary on Sifra DeTzniyuta (which is fully translated and commented on in Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, pp. 469-517). R. Chaim’s son, R. Yitzchak, in his introduction to his father’s work, Nefesh HaChaim, describes that the extent of his father’s veneration of the Vilna Gaon was even manifest physically in that, “When he would talk in learning and mention the name of his teacher [the Vilna Gaon], his whole body would tremble and his appearance changed.”

[19] Sanhedrin 111b.

[20] Kiddushin 30b.

[21] R. Chaim Volozhin’s Ruach Chaim commentary on Mishna Avot 1:4.

[22] See R. Chaim’s ninth responsum recorded in Chut HaMeshulash. Towards the end of this responsum he states, “… and my teacher, the holy one of Israel, our great master, the prodigy, the pious one, our Rabbi, Eliyahu of Vilna has already warned me not to be influenced by others in rendering Halachic decisions.”

[23] In addition, where an error was made, there is much to be positively learned from closely studying the circumstances and thought processes giving rise to that error.

[24] Shomer Emunim: The Introduction to Kabbalah includes several footnotes that provide detailed examples in the wider context of the main themes presented, of occasional factual errors made by various genuinely great Torah scholars, renowned for their outstanding and remarkable genius. These include:

  • An error apparently made by R. Shlomo Elyashiv, the Leshem, in his understanding of the position of R. Naftali Hertz Videnbaum HaLevi on the concept of Tzimtzum, on p. 780, fn. 358.
  • An error by the last Lubavitcher Rebbe, R. Menachem Mendel Schneerson, in stating that the Baal Shem Tov initiated a new understanding of Divine Providence where, in fact, the Baal Shem Tov’s position is unsurprisingly identical to that of the Arizal, on p. 859, fn. 452.
  • An error apparently made by R. Tzadok HaCohen, R. Baruch of Kosov, R. Pinchas Eliyahu Horowitz of Vilna, R. Yaakov Emden, in their understanding that Yosher Levav physicalized God, on p. 865, fn. 464.
  • A second error by R. Menachem Mendel Schneerson in how he related to those expressing a position of what is known as “Tzimtzum Kipshuto” and his understanding of the Vilna Gaon’s position on Tzimtzum, on p. 903, fn. 537 (also see Nefesh HaTzimtzum, Vol. 2, pp. 106-117).

[25] The Rambam mentions these 4 levels in Moreh HaNevuchim 1:72. It is beyond any question that these 4 general levels were expressed in terms of the scientific understanding of the Rambam’s day, deeply rooted in Greek philosophy. E.g., Aristotle’s De Anima/On the Soul discusses these 4 categories referring to the inanimate, the plant soul, the animal soul, and then to humans as having an intellectual soul. They are also mentioned in the introduction to the Ramban’s Commentary on the Torah. In R. Bachye’s Commentary on the Torah, these 4 levels are clearly framed in the context of the Creation Narrative at the beginning of the Torah, in the introduction to the portion of Vayakhel, Shemot 35:1, which states:

It is known that there are 4 categories of the lowly creations with one above the other. They are the inanimate, plant life, animal life, and the one who speaks [humans]. The inanimate are the mountains and the hills. This category does not have a soul at all, not a plant [soul], not a soul that animates [an animal soul] and not an intellectual soul [a human soul]. Above it there is plant life. It has an additional property over and above the inanimate in that it has a plant soul within it. Above the plant life are the other life forms, [animal life,] that have [both] an animate soul and a plant soul. Above animal life, which does not speak, there is man, who incorporates all of them with the plant soul and animate soul within him. He has the additional property over all of them with the intellectual soul. You will similarly find this sequence of coming into existence in the Creation Narrative. The inanimate, as written [on the third day of creation], “and let the dry land appear” [Bereishit 1:9]. Plant life, as written after this [on the third day of creation], “let the earth sprout [vegetation]” [Bereishit 1:11]. Animal life, as written on the fifth [day of Creation], “let the waters swarm with swarming living creatures” [Bereishit 1:20]. The one who speaks [human life], as written on the sixth [day of Creation], “let us make man in our image” [Bereishit 1:26]. With the lowly creations you will find that the later they are in the sequence [of creation] the better they are. This is the opposite of the supernal creations where the earlier they are in the sequence [of creation] the better they are. [I.e.,] the light on the first day [of creation]. On the second day, the firmament which is on a lower level than the light. On the fourth day [of creation], the luminaries which are on a lower level than the firmament.

This is reflected by R. Yitzchak ben Moshe Aramah in his Akeidat Yitzchak, Parshat Bereishit, Gate 3 (towards the end of the Gate):

This is the compelling reason why man was not created first. For if the one with the speaking soul [man] would have been created before the inanimate, the plant life and the rest of the animals, it would have opposed the natural order …. Therefore, the natural sequence is necessitated, and this is the reason that man was necessitated to be the last of all of them.

The concept of the advancement of the creation through the 4 levels of life is also reflected in the Arizal’s teachings in Etz Chaim 50:10, where each higher level is described as being given additional structure and organization, over and above each lower level. This piece from Etz Chaim is elaborated on in detail, within the context of a contemporary scientific framework of understanding called “Emergence,” in Shomer Emunim: The Introduction to Kabbalah, pp. 794-797.

[26] This maxim seems to have been first stated in the 14th century by R. Shem Tov ben R. Avraham ibn Gaon, in his Migdal Oz commentary on the Rambam’s Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Teshuva, Chap. 5.

[27] See R. Nachman of Breslov’s Likutei Moharan, Part 1, Sect. 15, which links the domain of the “Sinai” to a level of revealed knowledge and that of the “Oker Harim” to a higher level of currently concealed knowledge. He comments that while the Talmud identifies the “Sinai” as being optimal, that is in pre-messianic times. However, he highlights that in the future messianic times, the higher level of “Oker Harim” will be merited, together with an associated incomparably higher dimension of Torah knowledge.

[28] See an excellent example here, and independent in-depth analysis and validation of this example here.

[29] The concept of “Emergence” and how it leads to greater intellectual insight and ultimately to an explanation of the Messiah’s identity, is explained at length and in context in Shomer Emunim: The Introduction to Kabbalah.



Review of Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī) by Rabbi David ben Saʿadya al-Ger

Review of Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī) by Rabbi David ben Saʿadya al-Ger

Marc Herman

Marc Herman is an assistant professor in the Department of Humanities and a core member of the Centre for Jewish Studies at York University. His research focuses on Jewish and Islamic intellectual history in the medieval Mediterranean. He is the coeditor of Accounting for the Commandments in Medieval Judaism: Studies in Law, Philosophy, Pietism, and Kabbalah (Brill, 2021) and his monograph, titled After Revelation: The Rabbinic Past in the Islamic World, is under contract with the University of Pennsylvania Press.

The study of medieval halakhah was recently enriched by the long-awaited publication of The Comprehensive Book (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī) by David ben Saʿadya al-Ger,[1] one of the earliest legal compendia that survives from Sefarad. Pieced together from Genizah fragments, other manuscripts, and citations in later medieval works, and comprising much of the original text, this new edition of Kitāb al-Ḥāwī recovers a once-prominent halakhist who fell into obscurity in the centuries after his death. Its publication is a landmark in the study of Jewish al-Andalus and Judeo-Arabic law. Not only does this volume recover a mostly lost, early rishon, it also bears witness to the reception of the last geonim in the Islamic West and it provides a new window into the beginnings of Iberian halakhic culture.

Next to nothing is known with certainty about the life of David ben Saʿadya, author of the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī and other halakhic works. David’s period of activity can be fixed sometime after the death of Hayya Gaon (d. 1038), who David cited with some frequency, and before the death of Isaac Ibn al-Bālīya (d. 1094), who mentioned David as deceased.[2] This might place David in the circle of Samuel ha-Nagid. In fact, the twentieth-century scholar, Mordecai Margaliot (1909-1968), suggested that David was the subject of a laudatory poem in the Dīwān of the Nagid, where a certain “Rabbi David” is praised for his persuasive knowledge and keen abilities.[3] But what about the uncommon appellation אלגר? Some historians have understood that David descended from converts, but others have connected this word to the Arabic muhājir, i.e., migrant. (The latter would imply that David’s father, or an earlier family member, was not native to al-Andalus.) David Sklare noticed that one Genizah fragment vocalizes this word as אלגֵר (al-ger, i.e., the convert), supporting the view that David ben Saʿadya was the descendant of proselytes.[4]

ENA 2859.7v, Courtesy of the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary, The National Library of Israel. “Ktiv” Project, The National Library of Israel.

This reading coincides with the sole appearance of David’s name in the writings of Abraham Ibn Ezra, who called David “Rabbi David the judge, son of the convert (ha-dayyan ben ha-ger), Sefardi, from the city of Granada.”[5] The editor of this new edition, Y. Zvi Stampfer, who is a lecturer and researcher in the Department of Talmud and Halakha at Hebrew University of Jerusalem, accepts this interpretation of אלגֵר, noting that Jews in the medieval Islamic world had few qualms about such ancestry. Stampfer even proposes that David proudly announced his forebearer’s conversion (as did other converts).[6]

David ben Saʿadya composed several works. In addition to the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī, written in a mixture of Judeo-Arabic and Aramaic, they include Judeo-Arabic volumes on the laws of oaths and on the laws of bequests, as well as commentaries on the Talmud and, according to Ibn Ezra, a work on Hebrew grammar. Of these additional writings, only the one on the laws of oaths survives. This work was translated into Hebrew by Isaac ben Reuven of Barcelona and printed, since 1521, in standard editions of tractate Shavuot bearing the title שערי שבועות. Unfortunately for David’s legacy, it has long been incorrectly ascribed to Isaac al-Fāsī.[7]

The ascription of this last work to al-Fāsī is something of an irony, as al-Fāsī was wont to criticize David ben Saʿadya.[8] In a responsum about the distinctions between biblically and rabbinically mandated oaths, al-Fāsī declared that David was wrong and would have been better off following the view of Hayya Gaon.[9] This may have been more than a straightforward halakhic disagreement. If David did travel in the circle of Samuel ha-Nagid, the charge that Hayya was correct would have had particular potency, as the Nagid and his faction sought to downplay—and thereby surpass—geonic expertise and hegemony, and they were especially wary of Hayya. Solomon Ibn Gabirol, whom the Nagid supported, praised his patron with the phrase וְַרב הָאיָי כְּלֺא הָיָה לְפָנָיו—it was as if Hayya was nothing compared to him![10] Al-Fāsī might have been hinting, then, that a whole generation of Andalusi scholars were betraying their shortcomings when they veered too far from the geonim. Stampfer himself suggests that al-Fāsī’s attacks on David may have been part of a larger program to disparage earlier Sefardic tamludists.[11] Indeed, Abraham Ibn Dāʾūd reported that al-Fāsī entered into debates with both Isaac al-Bālīya and Isaac Ibn Ghiyāth, two of the leading figures in eleventh-century Sefarad.[12]

Did al-Fāsī’s criticisms play a role in consigning David and his works to obscurity? It is hard to know. But before the advent of critical scholarship, David’s writings were mostly known only through brief citations by later rishonim, mostly of Sefardic extraction. These include al-Fāsī, Maimonides, and Abraham Maimonides. The last figures to have been familiar with texts by David ben Saʿadya were David ben ʿAmram ha-ʿAdani (fourteenth century), in his Midrash ha-Gadol, and Bezalel Ashkenazi (sixteenth century), who probably knew of David’s writings indirectly, in his Shittah mequbeset.[13] Most of the manuscripts of the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī are no later than the thirteenth century, apparently when this work fell out of circulation. A single manuscript is later, from seventeenth-century Yemen.[14]

David’s Kitāb al-Ḥāwī and other writings were first noticed by Samuel Poznański, B.M. Lewin, and Simḥa Assaf, scholars who pioneered the recovery of geonim and rishonim, especially from Arabic-speaking lands. As a student at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America in the early 1950s, Shraga Abramson submitted a doctoral thesis, written for Saul Lieberman,[15] on David ben Saʿadya,[16] though this project did not see the light of day until now.[17] Stampfer has helpfully included the first five chapters of Abramson’s thesis as an appendix in this volume (pp. 363-399); the remaining six will hopefully be published alongside a new edition of David’s work on the laws of oaths. Sklare was the next scholar to identify major pieces of David’s work, dedicating an important article to David’s identity, corpus, and thought, and Stampfer added many previously unidentified manuscripts to reconstruct a large portion of the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī.

The Kitāb al-Ḥāwī follows a unique arrangement, perhaps unparalleled in the writings of the rishonim.[18] Its structure is worth reviewing. David ben Saʿadya began this book with a sizeable consideration of jurisprudential topics. He followed this with three sections dedicated to practical law: section two treats holidays and the calendar; section three treats the laws of marriage (this is the only section that survives only in a medieval Hebrew translation, not in the Judeo-Arabic original); and section four treats monetary law. The fifth section provides perhaps the longest early medieval analysis of the thirteen hermeneutical middot. And the sixth section presents a series of challenges to Halakhot Gedolot. (Was this part of eleventh-century Sefardic attempts to move away from geonic-era works? Al-Fāsī, in another responsum, defended Halakhot Gedolot from one of David’s attacks.[19]) Stampfer shows that at least some of these sections were originally independent works.[20]

The sections on applied law suggest that, in part, David intended the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī to be a practical manual. Sklare proposed that this work was meant to be a handbook for judges or for second-tier rabbinic leadership who offered rulings in smaller Jewish communities.[21] This might even explain why some of this book was written in Aramaic, a curious feature that is shared by Samuel ha-Nagid’s mostly lost Hilkheta Gavratta.[22] Sklare suggested that some Sefardic readership may have been more comfortable with Aramaic than Judeo-Arabic—a fascinating possibility in light of the usual emphasis on the Arabization of Jewish elites in al-Andalus.[23]

The other parts of Kitāb al-Ḥāwī, however, clearly had other goals in mind. David’s decision to open with a discussion of the sources of the law was undoubtedly stimulated by the attention that this topic received among both Jewish and Muslim writers of his day. David was an innovative theorist regarding the sources of halakhic authority. The geonim, especially Saʿadya, generally portrayed revelation as all-encompassing, and they tended to downplay or even deny that the talmudic-era rabbis created new law. (This is usually, though not always, understood as a defense of the Oral Torah from Qaraite criticisms.[24]) David, on the other hand, expressed no qualms with the rabbinic innovation of norms. He even took many of the Arabic terms that Saadia had associated with the accursed jurisprudence of the Qaraites and applied them to the late antique rabbis.

David’s consideration of the thirteen hermeneutical middot might be thought of in this vein as well. In the tenth century, Saʿadya Gaon rejected the idea that the rabbis had created new law using the middot. He instead insisted that they just matched up received oral traditions with the text of the Torah.[25] David, by contrast, saw the middot as tools for generative and novel interpretations. Thus, when the Torah does not explicate the law, David asserted that the rabbis created it through legal reasoning (using the Arabic term qiyās).

David ben Saʿadya, of course, was only the first of many figures to break with the geonim on the question of how Jewish law developed. Among Andalusi Jews, Maimonides proposed the most powerful alternative to the ideas of Saʿadya Gaon. Even if Maimonides did not know much of the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī directly, there are distinct parallels between the Maimonidean picture of the Oral Torah and David’s. Maimonides, like David, fiercely rejected the Saadianic approach to the rabbis. Both Andalusis instead celebrated rabbinic legal creativity, and both did so by way of similar Arabic concepts.[26]

Stampfer’s edition of the Kitāb al-Ḥāwī is handsomely produced. It begins with a detailed introduction to David ben Saʿadya and presents the text in the Judeo-Arabic original with facing Hebrew translation. Stampfer provides learned notes with detailed references to relevant passages in the writings of the geonim and rishonim. He cites many unpublished geonic texts, suggesting that this is the first of many such books in the works. Anybody interested in medieval Jewish law should await further contributions with much anticipation.

Notes:

[1] Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī) by Rabbi David ben Saʿadya al-Ger, ed. and trans. Y. Zvi Stampfer, incorporating work by David E. Sklare, Nissim Sabato, and Eliezer Reif (Jerusalem: The Ben-Zvi Institute for the Study of Jewish Communities in the East and The Rabbi Moses and Amalia Rosen Foundation, 2024; Hebrew), available here.
[2] For the latter, see Yaakov Miller, “Responsa of Our Rabbi Isaac son of Rabbi Baruch on the Matter of Collecting Debts from Orphaned Estates,” Kovetz Hitzei Giborim, vol. 7 (2014): 18-34, esp. 30 (Hebrew), available here.
[3] Mordecai Margaliot, ed., Hilkhot ha-Nagid (Jerusalem: American Academy for Jewish Research, 1962), 63 (Hebrew); see David Sklare, “R. David Ben Seʿadya al-Ger and His Work al-Ḥāwī,” in Joshua Blau, Haggai Ben-Shammai, Mordecai A. Friedman, and Joel L. Kraemer, eds., Encounters in Medieval Judaeo-Arabic Culture [=Teʿuda, no. 14] (Tel-Aviv: Tel-Aviv University, 1998), 103-123, esp. 115n40 (Hebrew), available here; for the poem, see Dov Yarden, ed., Dīwān Shmuel ha-Nagid: Ben Tehillim (Jerusalem, 1985), 151-53 (Hebrew), available here.
[4] David Sklare, “R. David Ben Seʿadya,” 111-12.
[5] Abraham Ibn ‘Ezra’, Sefer Moznayim, ed. Ángel Sáenz-Badillos (Madrid: Ediciones El Almendro, 2000), 6* (the editio princeps is available here. As Stampfer notes (32n85), some manuscripts of this passage read “Rabbi Judah,” however.
[6] David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 21-24.
[7] David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 27-32.
[8] David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 79-82.
[9] Isaac Rothstein, ed., Shut ha-Rif (New York, 1977), 156-57 (#51); noted in Shraga Abramson, “Two Chapters from a Study on the Book ‘Sha‘are Shevuot’,” Sinai, vol. 104, no. 3-4 (1989): 122 (Hebrew).
[10] Ḥayim Brody and Ḥayim Schirmann, eds., Shelomoh Ibn Gabirol: Shire Ḥol (Jerusalem: Schocken, 1975), 47 (#85) line 53.
[11] David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 82.
[12] Gerson D. Cohen, A Critical Edition with a translation and Notes of ‘The Book of Tradition (Sefer ha-qabbalah) by Abraham Ibn Daud (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1967), 86 (English), 64 (Hebrew).
[13] David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 68-90.
[14] The one seventeenth-century manuscript is described in David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 107.
[15] For Abramson on Lieberman, see his “R. Saul Lieberman’s Method of Investigating Talmudic Literature,” in Researches in Memory of Saul Lieberman (Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1983), 23-33 (Hebrew).
[16] Y. Zvi Stampfer, “Introduction,” in David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 100-101 (Hebrew):

“In the years 1950 or 1951, the student (later Professor) Shraga Abramson, at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America in New York, submitted a doctoral dissertation to Professor Saul Lieberman titled “Rabbi David ben Saadia ben ha-Ger: His Works and Times.” In his research, Abramson examined references to Rabbi David’s works in Talmudic and halakhic literature, along with various Genizah fragments, and discussed the question of Rabbi David’s era, location, and writings.”

[17] Y. Zvi Stampfer, “Introduction,” in David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 9-10 (Hebrew):

“Professor Shraga Abramson z”l laid a broad foundation for research into Rabbi David ben Saadia and his works in his doctoral dissertation on the book Sha‘are Shevuot, its author, its era, and its location. He submitted this research to Rabbi Professor Saul Lieberman in the early 1950s as a doctoral thesis. However, this work was never published, except for two brief articles derived from it. Mrs. Araleh Abramson z”l transferred a typed copy of the dissertation to Professor Haggai Ben-Shammai when he headed the Ben-Zvi Institute and co-directed of the Center for the Study of Judaeo-Arabic Culture and Literature, who then forwarded it to me.

The first part of the dissertation, which deals with the figure of Rabbi David and his writings, is included as an appendix at the end of this edition. The second part, which involves the study of Sha‘are Shevuot, I hope to publish along with an annotated edition of that work. Abramson’s research was not prepared for publication, and the primary challenge in preparing it for publication was identifying the references he alluded to. Since his writing was essentially directed at Lieberman, a scholar of unparalleled expertise, Abramson often sufficed with general references or vague hints to sources in rabbinic literature or scholarly works, mostly published in Hebrew and German. I have endeavored to locate the sources mentioned in his research as far as I could. To remain faithful to Abramson’s original manuscript and his research style, when he referred to editions published up to his time, I indicated, as much as possible, the editions that were in his library. However, in cases where he referred to rabbinic literature sources that have more accessible editions published after his death, I noted the newer editions. I also expanded the abbreviations and corrected typographical errors and incorrect references.”
[18] Another somewhat later, but still pre-Maimonidean, Andalusi work is even more diverse in its contents; see Y. Tzvi Langermann, “The Topic of Rosh Chodesh—Chapter 18 from the Composition ‘Issur ve-Heter’,” Kobez al yad 24 (34) (2016): 161-180, esp. 165-166 (Hebrew).
[19] See Abraham Harkavy, Teshuvot ha-Geonim (Berlin, 1887), 301 (Hebrew), available here.
[20] Y. Zvi Stampfer, “Introduction,” in David ben Saʿadya, Ha-Sefer ha-Kollel (Kitāb al-Ḥāwī), 32-37 (Hebrew).
[21] David Sklare, “R. David Ben Seʿadya,” 119, 123.
[22] See Shraga Abramson, “From the Teaching of R. Samuel ha-Nagid of Spain,” in Yitzhak Rafael, ed., Sinai Centenary Volume [=Sinai, vol. 100] (Jerusalem: Mosad ha-Rav Kook, 1987), 7-73, esp. 13 (Hebrew), available here, and Shraga Abramson, Perush Rabbenu Ḥananel la-Talmud (Jerusalem: Wagshal, 1995), 55-56.
[23] David Sklare, “R. David Ben Seʿadya,” 116-122.
[24] See Marc Herman, “Prophetic Authority in the Legal Thought of Saadia Gaon,” Jewish Quarterly Review, vol. 108, no. 3 (Summer 2018): 271-294, available here.
[25] See most recently Y. Zvi Stampfer, “Saʿadia Gaon’s Interpretation of the Thirteen Hermeneutical Principles according to the Arabic Source Commentary, Tendencies, and Unknown Sources,” Tarbiz, vol. 87, no. 4 (July – September 2020): 655-660 (Hebrew), available here.
[26] See Marc Herman, “Situating Maimonides’s Approach to the Oral Torah in Its Andalusian Context,” Jewish History, vol. 31, no. 1-2 [=Special Issue: New Perspectives on Jewish Legal History] (December 2017): 31-46.



New Sefer Announcement

New Sefer Announcement
by: Eliezer Brodt
I just printed a small sefer, Likutei Eliezer, it is 120 pages and paperback. The sefer consists of four chapters each with many parts. Although portions of each chapter appeared on the blog, each has been significantly expanded – over double the amount of new material – as well as corrections and updates. All the pieces are in Hebrew. The first chapter starts out with a discussion of various possible sources regarding the well-known custom of saying Ledovid during Elul and Tishrei. This leads in to a few different historical discussions of various people who were possibly the earlier sources for it being said. After proving (partially based on an earlier post of Dan’s) that the earliest known sources to us today for this custom is from R. Binyomin Benish Bal Shem I have a in-depth discussion of Balei Shem and others our history. I deal a bit with the topic of practicing Kabbalah Ma’asit (Practical Kabbalah) in this chapter.

I should mention that in the latest issue of Kovetz Eitz Chaim there appears an article under my name about Ledovid in Elul. [The version in this new sefer of mine has more than double the material than the article]. I was asked by an editor of this journal for this article. I was happy to give it to them although they have their methods of what to include and what not to include as has been demonstrated in the past on this Blog. However I was very disappointed to see that the besides omitting some of the sources and names they have changed my article with a completely different outcome than that I had written.

The second chapter deals with Efer Parah (ashes of the Red Heifer) and when exactly did we lose it. A version of this chapter appeared in my sefer Bein Kesseh Le-assur (of which copies are still available for purchase) and on the blog. In this new sefer many additions were added. Among topics discussed in this chapter are lengthy discussion of the famous Berita De-mesctas Niddah and if R. Eliezer Kaliar was a Tanna.

The third chapter revolves around the Sefer Hapeulot of R. Chaim Vital. This chapter has twenty sub-chapters based in part on my post on the blog but full of new material. Amongst the topics dealt with are Alchemy, Shelios Chalom, Goralos, automatic writing, ghosts and much much more.
The fourth chapter is about the Maggid of the Beis Yosef. This chapter consists of seven sub chapters focusing on the Poskim and how they viewed this work. I begin with as an example the words of the Maggid to the Beis Yosef (“BY”) not to eat meat on Rosh Hashana (“RH”). I deal with how the Maggid could have forgotten a Mishna which says one is supposed to eat meat on RH and a gereal discussion how a Maggid works in this regard. I have a section dealing with the various sources about eating meat on RH. Another section deals with who was the Maggid talking to just the BY or to everyone. The BY never quotes the Maggid but other poskim do bring him. I deal with the topic of Torah lav ba-shmayim in regard to this. Another section deals with the Rambam forgetting sources. The last section deals with the famous words which the Maggid told the BY many times that he would die Al Kidush Hashem via burning and we know he did not.

This sefer is available for purchase in the US by Biegliesin in NY, in Lakewood at Judaica Plaza and in Mosey at Tuvias’s. In Jerusalem it is available at Girsa, Otzar Haseforim and next to the Mir. It is also available for purchase from the author and can be shipped worldwide. A PDF of the table of contents and index are available, for more information contact me at eliezerbrodt@gmail.com.



Daf Yomi: Seforim on Yevomos and R’ Eliyhau Gutmacher

Daf Yomi: Seforim on Yevamos and R’ Eliyhau Gutmacher

By Eliezer Brodt

Daf Yomi just began Yevomos Masseches. This week I had a conversation with Rabbi Moshe Schwed of All Daf. The purpose of the conversation was to briefly highlight some of the rishonim and acharonim “out there” on this messechtah, adding some anecdotes of interest about them.

It is available for viewing here and here:

A few weeks earlier I gave a presentation, also part of this new series, devoted exclusively to R’ Eliyahu Gutmacher. It is available for viewing here and here.

This is an experiment which we are trying on the Seforim Blog and we hope to have other presentations from others over time. Feedback or comments of any sort are appreciated.

This is the ninth and tenth such conversation I have had with him of this kind this year (earlier we discussed Yerushalmi Shekalim [here], Yoma [here], Rosh Hashanah [here] Taanis [here] Megillah [here] and Moed Koton part one [here], part two is here, and part three is here).



Rabbi Yehuda Henkin — Opposite of Plagiarism

Rabbi Yehuda Henkin is the author of Shu”T Bnei Banim in four volumes and the commentary Chibah Yeteirah on the Torah. He learned privately with his grandfather, Rabbi Yosef Eliyahu Henkin, and served as Area Rabbi of the Bet Shean Valley in Israel. He now lives in Jerusalem.

Rabbi Henkin has two degrees from Columbia University, and has written extensively in English: Equality Lost–Essays in Torah Commentary, Halacha and Jewish Thought, (Urim Publications); New Interpretations on the Parsha (Ktav); Responsa on Contemporary Jewish Women’s Issues (Ktav); and the forthcoming Understanding Tzniut–Modern Controversies in the Jewish Community (Urim).

This is his first contribution to the Seforim blog.

Opposite of Plagiarism
Rabbi Yehuda Henkin

Plagiarism is a lack of attribution; less common is its opposite, mistaken attribution; rare indeed is the attribution of a defamatory work to the object of the defamation himself! An example of the latter can be found in the entry in the Encyclopedia Judaica [1] concerning my grandfather, R. Yosef Eliyahu Henkin zt”l.

The offending sentence reads: “His published responsa appear in Chaim Bloch’s Even me-Kir Tizak (1953) and his own Perushei Lev Ivra (c. 1925).”[2] But in fact, not only does the pamphlet Even me-Kir Tizak contain no responsa of R. Henkin, it is an unbridled personal attack on him on the part of one who lost a din Torah heard before him. Bloch refused to accept the verdict, and resorted to defamation of the judges. If I recall reading correctly about the affair, he was subsequently put in cherem by the Agudas HaRabbonim.

How did the mix-up in attribution occur? Since the card-catalogue of the Jewish Reading Room of the 42nd Street Library in New York listed Bloch’s pamphlet under R. Henkin, one can surmise that the researcher[3] for the EJ copied the listing without bothering to look up the reference.

Since then the mistake has been copied in Rafael Halperin’s Entziklopedia l’Bet Yisrael and, earlier this year, in the new edition of the EJ (2007). Surely a case of shigegat talmud oleh zadon [4].

Notes:
[1] First published in 1972, vol. 8 column 324. The EJ contains a number of incorrect or partial biographical details; for a comprehensive account see my Equality Lost (Urim), chap. 16. See here for Shnayer Z. Leiman’s review of the NEJ at the Seforim blog.
[2] This confuses two separate works: Perushei Ivra [PDF] (1925) and Lev Ivra [PDF] (1957). Together with Edut leYisrael (1946), all were reprinted in Kitvei haGri”a Henkin, vol. 1 (1981). In addition, Kitvei haGri”a Henkin, vol. 2 (1989) is a collection of his responsa and articles, edited by his son (my father) Avraham Hillel zt”l. (The volumes may or may not be available from Ezras Torah in NY. I have some of vol. 1 and a few more of vol. 2.)
[3] Not to be confused with the rosh yeshiva of the same name, but an otherwise reputable academic scholar.
[4] Avot 4:13.