Book Week 2011

Book Week 2011

by Eliezer Brodt

Book week has just begin in Eretz Yisrael. As I have written in previous years every year in Israel, around Shavous time, there is a period of about ten days called Shavuah Hasefer – Book Week (see here, here and here). Shavuah HaSefer is a sale which takes place all across the country in stores, malls and special places rented out just for the sale. There are places where strictly “frum” seforim are sold and other places have most of the secular publishing houses. Many publishing houses release new titles specifically at this time. In my reviews I sometimes include an older title if I just noticed the book. As I have written in the past, I do not intend to include all the new books. Eventually some of these titles will be the subject of their own reviews. I try to include titles of broad interest. Some books I cannot provide much information about as I just glanced at them quickly. I apologize in advance for any mistakes regarding transliteration. I also apologize in advance for using the word excellent so many times when describing seforim in this post! Additionally this year I am offering a service, for a small fee to help one purchase these titles (or titles of previous years). For more information about this email me at Eliezerbrodt-at-gmail.com. Part of the proceeds will be going to support the efforts of the the Seforim blog. Earlier this year I posted a list of recent academic titles see here. It’s worth checking back to this post in the next few days as I will probably add some more tiles, especially from Mechon Yerushalaim. 1) Magnes Press has many special titles this year. First and foremost is Benny Brown’s book on the Chazon Ish (see here). Another special title is the three volume critical edition of Sifri from M. Kahane. Another nice title is Kabbalistic Manuscripts and Textual Theory from Daniel Abrams. A nice collection of articles is Chinuch Vedas. There is a new collection of articles related to R. J. B. Soloveitchik called Rav Be-olam Ha-chadosh. There are also some new works on philosophy of Halacha. One is called Halacha, Meta Halacha, u-Philosph. Another one is called Halacha Ke-mecholles Shinu. There is another collection from E. Melamed called Midrashe Halacha shel Ha-amoroyim be-talmud Bavli. Another title is from S. Tzefatman called Rosh Ve-rishon. Another title is from Shlomo Simonsohn on the Jews in Sicily. Another nice collection is related to the Cario Genizah called Ha-kanon Ha-somu Min Hayin. Another nice title is a collection of articles related to Gan Eden called Gan Eden Me-kedem. In English, there is a new title called The Pinnacle of Hatred: The Blood Libel and the Jews.2) Kibbutz Hamechuad has a very special new title from Chanan Gafni called Peshuto Shel Mishana (a table of contents is available upon request). I highly recommend it and hope to return to it a post in the very near future. 3) The Israel Democracy Institute has some very good new titles. One is from Benny Brown (author of the work on Chazon Ish) dealing with R. Elyahsiv, Shlita and Rav Shach. Another work which looks interesting is a collection of articles called Rabnut HaAtgur (two volumes; a table of contents is available upon request). There are some other good titles there for good prices. 4) Caramel reprinted N. Krochamal’s classic work Moreh Nevuchei Ha-zeman.5) The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities does not have anything new but has some very good deals on old titles. 6) Merkaz Zalman Shazar has some new special titles. Amongst them is Amram Tropper’s Kechomer Beyad Hayotzer and the Hebrew translation of Professor Kanarfogel’s Peering through the Lattices, called Sod U-magiah Uprishut Bemishnsom Shel Balei Hatosfot. 7) Reuvan Mass has a few new titles. Amongst them works on the Maggid Me-Mezritch, Ha-shar Le-aon and a work on R. Tzvi Mezigitov, Al Derech Ha- avodah.8) The Bialik Institute has a few new titles, amongst them Lo Yossur Shevet Me-Yehudah in honor of Professor Simon Schwarzfuchs, which is a excellent collection of articles including pieces from of Professors Chaim Soloveitchik, Shnayer Z. Leiman, A. Grossman. M. Rosman, Eric Zimmer, R. Reiner ,Simcha Emanuel and many others (a table of contents is available upon request). Another nice title is Legalot Nistorot from Chana Werman. Aharon Shemesh has a book related to halacha in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Another title, Yosef Dat, is a Sefer Hayovel for Y. Salomon. In English there is a new title edited by Boaz Huss called Kabbalah and Contemporary Spiritual Revival. 9) Bar Ilan University has some new titles. The latest volume of Sidra is something specia,l with an all star line-up of writers (see here). A good title for those interested in academic Talmud is called Meleches Machsevet (see here). There are new volumes of Badad and Iyunei Mikra. Another title is on Zionist movement in Poland (see here). 10) Mechon Ben Zvi has some new titles, amongst them some new volumes in their set of critical editions of classics of Sefer ha-Makabim. Other works include Safrut Ha-mikra and a new translation of Shemoneh Perakim of the Rambam from M. Schwartz and two more volumes in their special series.




Satmar From As Seen By An Insider: A Review of the New English Biography of Rabbi Yoel Teitelbaum, the Satmar Rebbe

Satmar From As Seen By An Insider: A Review of the New English Biography of Rabbi Yoel Teitelbaum, the Satmar Rebbe
by Ezra Brand

I recently bought the new biography of the Satmar Rebbe, called “The Rebbe. The Extraordinary Life & Worldview of Rabbeinu Yoel Teitelbaum. The Satmar Rebbe זי”ע”, by Rabbi Dovid Meisels (Canada 2011, distributed by Israel Book Shop). Rabbi Meisels is related to Rabbi Teitelbaum, and a staunch Satmar chossid, so you can be sure that the views espoused in the book are Satmar’s true opinions. I also recently bought Solomon Poll’s classic study if chassidim in Williamsburg in the 1950’s, during which Rabbi Meisel’s book is also mostly set. It was interesting comparing the two very different views–that of a Satmar chossid looking back at those times, and that of a contemporary secular scholar like Poll. (See also an interesting review, and comments on it, here.)
The book discusses many opinions of the Rebbe. Besides for his famous anti-Zionist opinion, the book discusses such sundry topics as the required height of the mechitza in shul, metzitza b’peh, television, derech halimud, mikvaos,tznius (married women wearing sheitels, married women shaving their hair, women required to wear thick stockings—at least 90 denier), and the times for beginning and end of shabbos. It is somewhat surprising that the book doesn’t mention the Rebbe’s famous opinion that a boy and a girl shouldn’t meet more than two or three times before getting engaged. On pg. 364 the book does mention the Rebbe’s opposition to “the chosson spend[ing] time with the kallah before and after the engagement,” but no mention is made of how many times the Rebbe held the boy and girl should meet. There is a famous story told, that Reb Moshe Bick, a prominent chassidishe posek in the Bronx, decided that boys and girls should meet at least ten times before getting married. He felt that America was different than Europe, and too many divorces were happening because of improper matches. The Rebbe was strongly opposed to this. Reb Moshe Bick explained that the difference of opinion stemmed from the fact that he was a mesader gittin, while the Rebbe was a mesader kiddushin!
Almost no sources other than Satmar publications are listed as sources. These Satmar sources are listed at the end of the book in the “Bibliography;” there are about thirty or so. The only non-Satmar sources I found were “A Concise History of Agudath Israel” (pg. 97), “Uvdos Vehanhagos Leveis Brisk” (pg. 137) (basically Satmar!), “Hamodia” (pg. 220), and “Rav Shach Speaks” (pg. 528). However, it is a breath of fresh air to see at least some sources listed; most heimishe publication until now have opted to leave them out.
The book is notable in that it is very politically incorrect. It doesn’t beat around the bush when it confronts Reb Yoel’s opinion on Zionism. Reb Yoel was famously extremely anti-Zionist—as are both camps of Satmar today—and Rabbi Meisels emotively explains the basis of his opinion. Of course, there are a lot of polemics, such as the story on page 313, where Rabbi Meisels writes:
Indeed, one measure of the impact of Vayoel Moshe is that whatever books the Zionists have since published purporting to refute it (notably Hatekufah Hagedolah and Nefesh Adah) have not been taken seriously in the general Torah world. To this day, no serious mainstream work has been written to refute Vayoel Moshe. Even those rabbis who continue to advocate voting in the Zionist elections use the terms “eis laasos” and “aveirah lishmah,” indicating that at least in theory they agree with the central concepts of Vayoel Moshe.

Notice that the all-inclusive term “Zionists” is used, without even using the word “rabbis,” even though the authors of the “Zionist books” cited were undoubtedly great Talmidei Chachomim. This pattern of not giving those who hold of Zionism any titles of respect holds true throughout the book. For example, on page 294, Rabbi Yehuda Leib Maimon, the founder of Mossad Harav Kook, is referred to as “Yehuda Leib Maimon.” It is therefore somewhat surprising that on page 317, the Minister of Religious Affairs is referred to as “Rabbi Yaakov Moshe Toledano.” Maybe only Sefardim are allowed to be Zionists!
On pg. 178, the book says about the Satmar newspaper, Der Yid: “The policy of Der Yid was that whenever the State of Israel (Medinas Yisroel) was mentioned, the word “Yisroel” was placed in quotation marks to show that Torah Jewry, the true Israel, did not recognize the Zionists’ right to use their name.” (Notice “Torah Jewry,” not just Satmar.) This is followed by Rabbi Meisels himself, such as on pg. 249 (“…State of “Israel.” “). Usually, just the term “Zionist state” is used (e.g., on pg. 247). It is surprising that on pg. 523 the book mention “[t]he Israeli authorities.” I am sure this oversight will be corrected in future editions.
Throughout the book, the author hints to the Satmar opinion that kiruv rechokim is problematic. On page 13 he writes: “One of the secrets of the Rebbe’s success is that he never tried to perfect all of American Jewry and bring it into his fold. Instead, he worked hard to keep himself and his own community, which was mostly made up of post-War immigrants, unscathed.” Satmar is famous for disagreeing with Lubavitch on this point, however this disagreement is never stated explicitly. Rather, the author says that this is why Rabbonim before the War were not successful in planting Yiddishkeit in America (page 150): “A certain writer wrote that he heard from the Rebbe in 1955, ‘Why was I more successful in planting Torah in America than all the other gedolim who tried? Because they took in too much, they wanted to make the whole America good. In order to reach people, they had to make compromises. But I realized that Yiddishkeit can only grow if you plant perfect seeds. It doesn’t grow from compromises.” This completely ignores the fact that the Satmar Rebbe was working with people who had relatively recently been forcibly plucked from their homes in Hungary, straight into Williamsburg. On the other hand, earlier Rabbonim were dealing with people who had willingly left their very religious hometowns in Eastern Europe to go to America, a much more secular country. In addition, some of the American Jews had been in America for decades, and had gotten used to the freedom of acting how they pleased, without operating within the very strict confines of the Chassidic community. On pg. 515, the book discusses the Rebbe’s opposition to Lubavitcher chassidim putting tefillin on secular Israeli soldiers, based on halachic problems. Impressively, the book quotes the Lubavitchers answer back, albeit with a rejoinder.
For some reason, the Rebbe did not like the chassidim in Borough Park. This is despite the fact that there were also Satmar chassidim in Borough Park. On pg. 400 and pg. 429 derogatory remarks said about Borough Park by the Rebbe are recounted.
Very harsh words are quoted from the Rebbe about the Lithuanian derech halimud. On pg. 457, he is quoted to have said, in response to why bochurim in Litvish yeshivas “undeniably” learn with more enthusiasm and hasmadah than the Satmar bochurim: “…Here too, there is no truth in the ‘belly logic’ (boich svaros) used in these yeshivas. It’s all their own made up ideas, and it’s fun for them to think about ideas that they themselves made up.” And again: “Their style is not more than three generations old. They created it in order to save the younger generation from the Haskalah. It’s a totally new derech. We see that not one halachic authority came out from them. There is one of them who paskens shailos, and he wreaks terrible destruction. It’s a totally new derech, and it’s not Toras Emes.” The Rebbe isn’t exactly the open-minded or “eilu ve’eilu divrei elokim chaim” type. I’m curious to know which specific posek he was referring to that he feels “wreaks terrible destruction.” It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out, because he is the only Lithuanian who paskens! I’m assuming he meant Reb Moshe Feinstein, with whom the Rebbe had many halachic/ ideological disputes.
An interesting story is told on pg. 474. One of the founding parents of “Bais Ruchel”– the Satmar girls’ school—came to the Rebbe with a complaint. “He [had] discovered that the teacher had instructed the girls to write the Hebrew words “Ani ohev es habeged (I love the garment) as writing practice.” Now, you might think the parent had a complaint that the sentence is grammatically incorrect. A girl writing this sentence should write “ani oheves es habeged.” Or, he complained that his daughter shouldn’t be taught to love her clothing, but rather Hashem. But no. His complaint is: “The Rebbe founded a girls’ school to raise a new generation of girls like our mothers and grandmothers in Europe. Now I see that my daughter brought home a notebook in which she wrote ‘Ani ohev es habeged.’ The Rebbetzin argues that the girls can’t be so ignorant; they are allowed to understand what they are saying when they daven. I had a grandmother who passed away at 103, and she knew the entire Tehillim and Maamados by heart. But she didn’t understand what she was saying. That’s how our children should grow up as well.” The Rebbe said to his rebbetzin: “ ‘He’s right!’ “ In other words, this man’s grandmother had lived to such a ripe old age because she didn’t know the words she was saying! Rather, they should be some magical formula not to be understood.
The book discusses at relative length the process of founding “Kiryas Yoel.” On pg. 528, we read that “[a] Yekke from Washington Heights, who agreed with the Rebbe’s views on many issues, wanted to move to the new town. The Rebbe invited him, ‘Bring another nine Ashkenazim with you, and you can start your own minyan in Kiryas Yoel.” I wonder who this “Yekke” was., and how long he would have lasted among the thousands of chassidim in Kiryas Yoel!
On pg. 45, R’ Meisels bring the famous myth that the town “Satmar” in Hungary is named after St. Mary. He writes: “The Rebbe never pronounced the name Satmar, since it is the name of avodah zarah. Instead he would say ‘Sakmar.’ This pronunciation was also customary in Tzanz.” Throughout the book, when the Rebbe himself mentions the name “Satmar,” “Sakmar” is used instead. In truth, “Satmar” is a combination of the Latin word “Sattu,” meaning village, and the Romanian word “Mare,” meaning large. (See the beginning of the Wikipedia article on Satmar here.)
Something that I felt was lacking was any sign of Yiddish whatsoever. The Satmar Rebbe was known as a smart person, and the book brings a nice amount of stories that contain the Rebbe’s witticisms. I enjoy seeing the actual expression used, and since the Rebbe only spoke Yiddish, as the book says on pg. 26, the Rebbe obviously said whatever he said in Yiddish. Most such biographies quote the exact expression, and then translate. Possibly, Rabbi Meisels didn’t use any English lehavdil bein kodesh lechol. I’ll explain. On pg. 13, R’ Meisels writes that he really shouldn’t be writing the book in English, since the Rebbe was against the use of English “as a medium of speaking and reading within the Jewish community.” But since there were many outside of Satmar who were interested in the life of the Rebbe, the decision was reached to write a book in English. On pg. 488, R’ Meisels writes with pride that in the Satmar summer camps, for two months the campers “did not even hear a single English word.” I guess once the decision was reached not to use Yiddish, Yiddish could never be used!
Some surprising stories are told about talmidei chachamim, which seem to be against halacha:
1) On pg. 144, R’ Meisels talks about how after the Rebbe came to America from Israel in 1946, R’ Michoel Ber Weissmandel (Rosh Yeshiva of Nitra Yeshiva in Mount Kisco) wanted to make sure he wouldn’t return to Israel. He therefore took the Rebbe’s passport and ripped it up. What is the heter to destroy someone else’s passport just because you think he shouldn’t continue travelling?
2) The book speaks about how the Rebbe was “very particular not to use tainted or impure money” (pg. 187). It goes on to write that “[m]any times, they also witnessed him taking undesirable money and flushing it down the toilet.” Similarly, on pg. 190-191, it is told that after accepting a ten-dollar bill from “a man who was not properly observant,” the Rebbe “took that ten-dollar bill, rolled it up and began to use it to scratch his ears. Soon he tore off a piece, and continued to scratch his ears with the remainder. He tore off another piece, until the entire bill was gone.” First of all, didn’t all those people who gave the money give it to support charitable causes? Didn’t they want the zchus of their money being put to good use? If the Rebbe was planning on destroying the money, he should not have accepted the money in the first place. In addition, according to American law, it is illegal to destroy money. What happened to dina d’malchusa dina? However, it is possible that the Rebbe wasn’t aware that this was illegal.
3) On pg. 193-194, the book tells how the a man gave money to the Rebbe to pay his debts: “…As soon as the old man heard this, he brought the Rebbe 20,000 crowns. ‘Now you can go and pay your debts.’ “ Soon after, the Rebbe gave the money to a poor girl for her dowry. When the person who gave money to the Rebbe found out, he protested: “ ‘But I gave you the money only on condition that you would use it to pay your debts, not for tzedaka!’ the old chassid protested. The Rebbe replied: ‘The yetzer hara has already been arguing with me for quite some time, trying to convince me to stop giving tzedaka. And now you are arguing with me as well. Don’t worry, I will soon give you back your money.’ “ Here ends the story. The problem is, the halacha clearly states that if a person gives tzedaka with intentions that the money should be used for a specific purpose, the money cannot be used for any other purpose. See Rama; Yoreh De’ah 256:4; Shach ibid. s”k 10; Shulchan Aruch, Choshen Mishpat 125:1; ibid. se’if 5; ibid. se’if 6; ibid. se’if 7; Shach ibid. s”k 25. However, it is possible that the Rebbe thought that the donor wouldn’t mind. But if so, the book should speak that out.
On pg. 268, the book describes the tricks Neturei Karta used to make sure they would win control of the Eidah Hachareidis: “Shortly before the election, the Neturei Karta divided their candidates into two parties, Neturei Karta, under Reb Amram, and Mesores Vene’emanus, under Rabbi Eliyahu Nachum Porush. In the second party they placed candidates who were not so well-known. The goal was that some voters who did not support Neturei Karta would vote for this party and thus take away votes from Agudah.” This kind of book obviously doesn’t bring any stories about its allies which they feel were done wrongly. It is therefore surprising that the book describes these devious schemes were used to rig the election.
All in all, the book tells many interesting stories about the Satmar Rebbe. It also provides a good overview of the growth of Satmar in America from after the War until the 1970’s. However, some of the stories and views are a little extreme for the litvishe palette, and the book is very polemical in nature. However, this biography will be treasured for giving over a truly unique viewpoint of a gadol, a biography so different than other “heimeshe”, biographies.



The Man who Tried to Put it All Together: A Hesped for Rav Kook on His Eightieth Yahrzeit

The Man who Tried to Put it All Together: 
A Hesped for Rav Kook on His Eightieth Yahrzeit 
By Yehudah Mirsky 

Yehudah Mirsky is an Associate Professor in the Department of Near Eastern and Judaic Studies and the Schusterman Center for Israel Studies, Brandeis University, and the author of Rav Kook: Mystic in a Time of Revolution (Yale University Press), available here (link).  

This is his first contribution to the Seforim Blog

Jerusalem of the 1930s was boiled in fury. The inevitability of bitter conflict with the Arabs of Palestine had become too clear to deny, while the fighting among Jews, if not quite as violent, was bitter and unmistakable. How to deal with the Arabs, how to deal with the British, how to bring new immigrants and, once they were there, sustain them, how to deal with Hitler’s shadow looming large over Europe – and how to deal with Zionism’s revolution not only against centuries of Jewish politics, but centuries more of Jewish religion and history. The arguments were as heated as the stakes were high. 
All the more striking it was that on Monday, September 2, 1935, the fourth day of Elul 5695, some fifteen thousand people, amounting to one third of Jewish Jerusalem and nearly five percent of Jewish Palestine, religious and secular alike, joined by foreign diplomats, scholars, day laborers and rabbis, came out to follow the coffin of Chief Rabbi Abraham Isaac ha-Kohen Kook, dead at age seventy. The procession wound from his yeshiva near Zion Square, in three columns through the Old City, to his freshly dug grave on the Mount of Olives, as thousands more watched from the rooftops. 
The night before, just a few hours after his passing, the Nineteenth Zionist Congress, meeting in Lucerne, Switzerland, had held a memorial service of its own. Menachem Ussishkin, president of the Jewish National Fund responsible for land-purchases in Palestine and incoming President of the Zionist Executive, had long been Rav Kook’s chief interlocutor in the Zionist leadership, navigating between the movement’s relentlessly secularizing thrust, and the rabbi’s dogged insistence that the movement was bound to be the very vehicle of spiritual rebirth, for Jews and the world. Ussishkin said the rabbi had told him the building modern-day Palestine, its roads, factories and farms was nothing less than rebuilding the Temple – and that now, as then, all the ranks were meant to work together, the secular, itself charged with divine energy, being the indispensable foundation of the sacred. 
Ussishkin was followed by Meir Berlin, leader of the perpetually-embattled Religious Zionist movement, the Mizrachi (whose Hebraized name would later garnish Israel’s religious university, Bar-Ilan). Rav Kook, Berlin said, “loved the Jewish people the way only a father can love his children. Nobody is left after him who will love his nation that fiercely…He understood his people, the situation of the generation, and its life conditions, and that is why he forgave them everything.” There was a lot to forgive. 
Berlin and Rav Kook went back a very long way, longer than the former’s own lifetime. In the fall of 1884, then aged nineteen, Abraham Isaac ha-Kohen Kook had become a student and disciple of Berlin’s father, Naftali Zvi Yehudah Berlin, known as “The Netziv,” dean of the great yeshiva of Volozhin. The yeshiva teemed with prodigies, future rabbis and future revolutionaries, among whom young Kook stood out, for an unfamiliar mix, appealing to some, off-putting to others, of intellectual prowess, intense piety, and lyric sensibility. 
In the early years of his career, begun in a tiny Lithuanian shtetl, Kook was drawn to Maimonidean rationalism. With time, and intense grief at the death of his first wife, he turned inward, undertook deep introspection and extensive study of Kabbalah, on his own and with Rav Shalom Elyashiv (grandfather of the recently departed Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv). Alongside his command of Talmud and halakha, he mastered an extraordinary range of Jewish mystical, philosophical and other texts, read widely in the rich Hebrew and Yiddish periodical literature of the day, and became an autodidact of contemporary philosophy. In a departure from rabbinic conventions, he made serious study of the non-halakhic portions of the Talmud, the Aggadah and all its divergent voices. 

“There are those who erroneously think that world peace will only come from a common character of opinions and qualities. But no – true peace will come to the world precisely by multiplication of all the opinions and perspectives… all facets of the larger truth… peace (is) the unification of all opposites. But there must be opposites, so that there be those who labor and that which will be unified… Hence peace is the name of God, who is the master of all the forces, omnipotent and gathering them all.” (Eyn Ayah to Massekhet Berakhot, vol. 2, pp. 397-398, 9:361, on BT Berakhot 64a.) 

In another, marking his burgeoning conviction that God is to be found in the stormy recesses of one’s own inner life, he began to keep a spiritual diary. 
In the summer of 1904 Kook moved to Palestine after accepting an offer to become the rabbi of Jaffa and the surrounding colonies, effectively becoming rabbi of the New Yishuv (Jewish collective). The year of his arrival marked the beginning of the Second Aliyah, the migration wave that brought a small but influential cadre of young intellectuals and revolutionaries who left an outsized mark on the political and cultural development of the New Yishuv. The combined effect of his encounters with their willingness to sacrifice themselves for the sake of the Jewish people and for the ethical universalism of Socialism, with the vibrancy of the New Yishuv and sheer embodied-ness of the land was electrifying. In public, he became the leading rabbinic champion of the New Yishuv, and thus the target of traditionalist attacks. In private, as time went by he wrote more and more furiously and extensively in his diaries, lost in a torrent of thought as he began to train the dialectical worldview which he had developed to understand the complex mix of his own soul and the ideological debates of Eastern Europe onto larger historical patterns. His thinking also became explicitly Messianic. 
Thus in his reading, and in a move which astonished and enraged many of his Rabbinic peers, the rebelliousness of the pioneers was neither accidental, nor evil, but in fact nothing less than part of God’s plan to restore to Judaism a vitality and universal spirit worn thin in centuries of exile. The young rebels against tradition in the name of Jewish nationalism and social justice were nothing less than the bearers of a new revelation. 
In a major essay of 1912, Li-Mahalakh Ha-Ideiot be-Yisrael, (“The Progression of Ideals in Israel,”) he presented a philosophy of Jewish history structured along series of mirroring, theses and antitheses, whose collective synthesis is redemption: The vital, collective, bodily Judaism of the Bible followed by its antithesis, the subdued, individualized, spiritualized,Judaism of Exile, all to be synthesized in the fullness of redemption. 
The Land of Israel was central to his reflections. 

“The holiness within nature is the holiness of the Land of Israel, and the Shekhinah that went down into exile with Israel (BT Megillah 29a) is the ability to preserve holiness in opposition to nature. But the holiness that combats nature is not complete holiness, it must be absorbed in its higher essence to the higher holiness, which is the holiness in nature itself, which is the foundation of the restoration and tikun olam… And the holiness in exile will be joined to the holiness of the land, and the synagogues and batei midrash of Bavel will be reestablished in the Land of Israel.” (Ibid; and Shemonah Kevatzim 2: 326-327, Orot pp. 77-78). 

Here and throughout he was reinterpreting a rich skein of Kabbalistic thought, in which the divine presence, the Shekhinah, as the Oral Torah, is Knesset Yisrael, the sacred community of Israel, and thus the Land, are all ultimately as one, constituting, as Sefirat Malkhut the very meeting point of God and the world. The “Ideals” under discussion in his 1912 essay were not only the Ideals of Western philosophy and the moral, spiritual and aesthetic ideas driving all human yearning, but also, and more deeply, the Sefirot, the nodal points of divine energy that in Kabbalistic teaching are the deep structure of all of Being, and, animated as it is with divine energy, its endless Becoming. 
The outbreak of World War One caught Rav Kook in Germany, where he’d hoped to attend a rabbinic conference and mollify some of his peers’ fierce opposition to the Jewish national revival. He spent the war years in Switzerland and then England, in horrified witness to the great civilizational suicide. 
The world crisis and slaughter were redeemed for him by the Balfour Declaration, which he took as electrifying confirmation of his messianic reading of world events. As always, the national was for him complemented by the universal, and in the midst of the war, in the pages of his diaries, he reached some of the farthest heights of his universalism: 

“There is one who sings the song of his self, …And there is one who sings the song of the nation, who cleaves with gentle love to Knesset Yisrael as a whole, and sings her song with her, grieves for her sorrows and delights in her hopes…And there is one whose soul expands further beyond the bound of Israel, to sing the song of man…And there is one whose spirit expands and ascends even higher, to the point of unity with all creation, with all creatures and all worlds, and sings with them all…And there is one who ascends above all these songs in a single union, and all sound their voices…The song of the self, of the nation, of man, of the world – all come together within him at every time, in every hour. And this perfection in all its fullness ascends and becomes a sacred song, God’s song, Israel’s song…a simple song, doubled, tripled, fourfold, the Song of Songs of Shlomo (Cant. 1:1), (as the Midrash says) The King to Whom Peace, belongs.” (Midrash Shir Ha-Shirim Rabbah, 3:1(6), Vilna ed.) (Shemonah Kevatzim, 7:112, Orot Ha-Kodesh, vol. 2, pp. 444-445). 

On his return to Palestine be became, first, chief rabbi of Jerusalem, and in 1921, the co-founder, with his Sephardi colleague Yaacov Meir, of the Chief Rabbinate. What was for the British an extension of established colonial policy of delegating religious services and some legal jurisdiction to local religious authorities was for him an opening to institutions that would gradually reshape the law into a new Torah for a redeemed Eretz Yisrael. He hoped to create institutions that would move the historical progression forward, creating the halakha and institutions to guide the great changes to come. 
The reality was more complicated. That which made him the obvious choice to head the Rabbinate and indispensable to the burgeoning project of building the Jewish national home – his mix of erudition and piety, his engagements with modern thought and culture, a deeply conciliatory personality and a theology and historical perspective to make that conciliation the basis of a new philosophy – his ability to square seemingly incommensurate circles, left him out of the political mix and unable to make headway on his most prized projects, the new Rabbinate and bringing the Zionist movement into deep dialogue with Judaism. 
It all came to a head in 1933 with the murder of the general secretary of Ben-Gurion’s Mapai party, Chaim Arlosoroff. Suspicion fell on Jabotinsky’s Revisionists, who had been doing rhetorical and sometimes physical battle with Mapai over its willingness to negotiate Jewish immigration with Hitler, and several were arrested. Rav Kook himself had never affiliated with a party, or even formally joined the Zionist movement as such. But once convinced of the Revisionists’ innocence, Rav Kook threw himself and all his stature into their defense. The accused were exonerated, but his ties to the Left were irrevocably broken. 
The ultra-Orthodox, for their part, throughout his Jerusalem years, saw him as their gravest foe and attacked him relentlessly, even while on his deathbed, and after. 
The ensuing decades saw growing interest in Rav Kook’s teachings and their significance. The thousands of pages of his diaries were edited and published, in different series, by his disciple “ha-Rav ha-Nazir,” David Cohen (see here) and by Rav Kook’s son, Zvi Yehudah. 
The latter eventually assumed the deanship of his father’s yeshiva, renamed Mercaz Ha-Rav, and in the late 1960s and early ‘70s became spiritual leader of the new vanguard of Religious Zionists. 
When in the aftermath of the Yom Kippur War of October 1973 religious Zionists decided to capture the flag and lay hold, not only of the hilltops of Judea and Samaria but of the Zionist movement as a whole, they were taking the religious language that Labor Zionism had made into a functional tool for a political program and re-infuse it with its classical religious meaning. And they did so, with the conceptual tools provided them by Zvi Yehudah, in his interpretation of his father. 
The central question for Zvi Yehudah, his own successors, and for his and their critics within Religious Zionism, (most notably Rav Yehudah Amital) was what his father would have said, and how his ideas ought to be interpreted. It’s hard to think of another Jewish theologian whose legacy has been as consequential as AvrahamYitzhak ha-Kohen Kook. 
Those arguments continue in present-day Israel, where new volumes by and about Rav Kook, academic, sectarian and popular, continue to be published at a dizzying pace year after year. The publication in recent years of his diaries in their original form has heightened interest in him, while showing the depth of his immersion in Kabbalah, and the depths he was plumbing in his own complicated soul. He simultaneously embraced both universalism and particularism with rare vehemence. He saw genuine revelation in the spiritual life of all peoples, and in the very body of Israel, whose unique collective vocation was the salvation of mankind. He affirmed both pragmatism and utopia, or in his terms, sagacity and prophecy. The common thread to this entire way of thinking is the dialectic, a principled appreciation of complexity, and the ways in which precisely that complexity, that coincidence of opposites, is that which gives birth, slowly, to whatever it is that we can know of truth. 
The last day of his life was the third day of Elul, sixteen years to the day since his arrival, after the Great War, in Jerusalem. He had been ailing with cancer for months and gone to the then-suburb of Kiryat Moshe. In his last days he’d received a number of visitors, including a disciple of the Rebbe of Munkacs, come to query Rav Kook’s support for the Zionists, and the young rabbi and theologian, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, who was visiting from America on what would be his only visit to the Land of Israel (see here). And, after asking his physician how long he had left to live, did his best to read through the Mishna, Bible and Bahya ibn Paquda’s eleventh-century classic, Duties of the Heart, one last time. 
On the first day of Elul, the penitential month, Ha-Nazir had brought him the elegantly designed title page of the theological compendium he’d wrought out of the spiritual diaries, to be entitled, “Light of the Holy,” Orot Ha-Kodesh. Rav Kook wept and asked that on the title page he be referred to simply as “Rav” and nothing more. He was surrounded by treasured rabbinic colleagues – Rav Isser Zalman Meltzer, Rav Yechiel Michel Tukachinsky, Rav Aryeh Levine – and Ha-Nazir stood in the courtyard downstairs, his face buried in a tree. At the very end, Rav Kook’s lips were moving. His disciple and soul-mate, Rav Yaakov Moshe Charlap leaned over him, and heard him say, “Even now, my hope in God doesn’t falter.” 
Rav Kook turned his face to the wall as the attending physician rinsed the blood from his body, and once his visitors re-entered the room, he faced them all once again. They began to say the Shema together, and he joined them on the final word, “Echad / one.”



Easing the Donkey’s Burden: Nitkatnu Hadorot or Nitgadlu?

 Easing the Donkey’s Burden: Nitkatnu Hadorot or Nitgadlu?
By Rabbi Simcha Feuerman
“If the earlier generations were like angels, we are like humans. But if they were like humans, then we are like donkeys.”
(Talmud Shabbat 112b)
One of the basic and fundamental tenets of our tradition is respect and deference for the previous generations.  Although there are notable exceptions, generally, rabbinic authorities do not override or disagree with the rulings of authorities from a previous class, such as Amoraim disagreeing with Tanaim, Gaonim with Amoraim, Rishonim with Acharonim and so on.  While this may be due largely to conceding that their knowledge of, and access to Torah Sheb’al Peh is more accurate[1], there is also an aspect of deference and respect for those who are considered to be of higher moral and spiritual character. [2]
This principle has a subtle but pervasive impact on the chinuch we give our children; it is not uncommon for rebbes and rabbanim to speak of “Nitkatnu Hadoros – The generations have become diminished” as a reason to explain how we are unable to fulfill a particular spiritual, moral or halachic ideal.  For example, while it is virtually unheard of to fast for more than 25 hours today, there were minhagim to fast for two days consecutively – on the 9th of Av and the 10th of Av[3], as well as those who were able to make vows of abstention for penitence.[4]  Apparently, we consider ourselves too morally and physically weak to live up to this standard.  Likewise, based on the accounts of many individuals from the previous generations, it was not uncommon for persons to spend the entire Yom Kippur night standing and reciting Psalms, and THEN praying the full day.  This seems beyond reach for most of us today.  When contemplating this, most people wearily sigh, “Oy, the doiros get more shvach (weak).”  These are but two examples of many instances where the deterioration of subsequent generations is an accepted fact of life in our tradition and our culture.
Is this principle absolutely true in all areas?  Is each successive generation truly less spiritual and less moral than the previous ones?  Are we riding a one-way train down to the depths of oblivion waiting to be rescued by the arrival of Messiah?  This resonates with the midrashic tradition about our ancestors in Egypt, who would have descended past all forty-nine levels of impurity had they not been rescued.[5] While such a belief seems to be well-supported by everything we have studied so far, there is a basic illogic to this position.  What is the spiritual purpose in the divine plan for sustaining us, if indeed each generation is less worthy?  Why not just throw in the metaphysical towel and bring Mashiach now, while we are still partially ahead of the game?
The answer must be, as was undoubtedly true in regard to our ancestors who were slaves in Egypt, that despite our continuous moral deterioration, our experiences must be preparing us and priming us for an ultimate experience of higher spirituality and achievement.  Presumably, the experience as slaves in Egypt somehow was a necessary preparation for acceptance and fulfillment of the Torah.  Indeed, many commandments in the Torah, ranging from Shabbat to the laws of usury, are supplemented with a reminder that we are obligated to follow them “Because I am your G-d who took you out of Egypt.”[6]  Furthermore, in regard to the capacity of empathy and caring for the plight of the downtrodden, the Torah reminds us “And you know the soul of the stranger because you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”[7]  If the experience of slavery in Egypt helped elevate and prime our ancestors for the accepting of the Torah, it may likewise be a fair assumption that while each generation may be undergoing spiritual and moral deterioration, there also is some new quality that is being
developed.  Perhaps this quality is not fully expressed and lays dormant until the time of redemption, or perhaps its quality is available and accessible to all of us right now.
In this essay, I will suggest one specific area where each generation improves its ability and depth to comprehend and fulfill the Torah, as well as the practical implications for the chinuch of our children.  According to fascinating research and statistics regarding I.Q. scores, the ability to perform abstract reasoning increases significantly with every generation.  This has a distinct impact on the ability to understand the more esoteric parts of the Torah, such as the reasons for the mitzvot, ways of understanding reward and punishment, as well as the mystical aspects of religious activities.  The Talmud tells us that “Three things expand a person’s consciousness: A pleasant home, a pleasant wife and beautiful utensils”[8], and it is quite possible that the relative wealth and security of modern life allows for each generation to improve its capacity to understand abstractions, because our surroundings are more pleasant and engender sensitivity and perception. As we shall see, the Sages of the Talmud did not believe the average not-so-learned Jew to be capable of grasping and comprehending many of the deeper aspects of the Torah.  There are numerous examples of this, and we shall study a few of them found in the Talmud and Medieval authorities.
The Truth about the Scrolls
The Talmud tells us that one of the early rabbinic decrees was a form of impurity applying to holy scrolls.  While it seems rather strange to declare holy scrolls to be impure, the rabbis had good reason to do so.  According to the Talmud, the common folk developed an ill-advised habit of storing food consecrated as Terumah in the same areas where they stored the holy scrolls.  The people reasoned, “The Terumah is holy and the scrolls are holy so why not store them together?”  The problem with this practice is that the rodents would come to eat the Terumah and inevitably also chew on the scrolls.  Therefore, the rabbis brilliantly declared that the scrolls are always impure, greatly discouraging people from storing them near the Terumah, which was required to be ritually pure.[9]
This clever bit of social engineering begs one basic question:  If the people were compliant and agreeable to following rabbinic rules and injunctions, why did the rabbis have to complicate matters by decreeing that the scrolls were impure, and of all things, have the audacity to suggest that holy scrolls are impure?  Would it not have been simpler to merely forbid storing holy scrolls alongside Terumah?  This suggests that actually the rabbis could not easily or completely secure compliance via this route and therefore could not directly forbid the co-placement of Terumah and scrolls.  Instead, they needed to tap into an apparent cultural taboo and respect for the laws of Terumah purity as a way to mobilize the people to comply and refrain from storing scrolls next to the Terumah.  In other words, to simply tell people that rodents will chew on the scrolls and therefore it is forbidden to store Terumah next to them would not have been as effective as creating a new form of impurity.  By creating a rabbinic decree of impurity, the rabbis were able to tap into a deeply ingrained respect for the laws of purity and fear of violating them.  This was apparently the most effective deterrent.
Another possible instance where the Sages used the taboo of impurity to shape behavior is in regard to the rabbinic mitzvah of washing hands before eating bread.  The stated reason for this law seems highly convoluted and begs for a deeper explanation.  The reason supplied is that since, when the Temple is rebuilt and the Cohanim will eat Terumah they will need to wash their hands before eating, the rabbis wanted to accustom everyone to wash.[10]  This reason is a quite a stretch, because the original ruling itself that required the Cohanim to wash was only based on another rabbinic declaration that hands are automatically considered ritually unclean.  So, in effect you have a rabbinic injunction to safeguard a rabbinic injunction, in effect a double safeguard, which is usually not the modus operandi of the sages.[11]  Furthermore, let us study the original reason for declaring unwashed hands as impure in regard to Terumah bread.  The Talmud tells us it is because one’s hands absentmindedly touch many objects.[12]  The rabbis therefore enacted a strange form of impurity declaring only the hands and no other part of the body impure, and then allowing a special ritual of water poured from a vessel to act as a mikvah for the purpose of removing the impurity.  This is in itself quite remarkable, because indeed had a person’s hand absentmindedly touched an impure
object such as dead rodent as the stated reason fears, the entire person’s body would be rendered impure and he would need to immerse himself in the mikvah.  Washing his hands from a vessel would accomplish nothing.  So, what problem if anything, did the rabbis
solve?
In fact, Rashi (Ad loc.) finds this explanation so implausible that he suggests another explanation, admittedly overriding what his rabbis taught. Rashi proposes that the requirement to wash before eating Terumah was enacted in order to ensure that the person eats clean hands out of respect for the holy food.  If so, it is not implausible that the rabbis ultimately extended this requirement to all bread in order to encourage sanitary eating habits.[13]   In any case, it is clear that according to Rashi, the rabbis once again used the taboo of impurity to shape social behavior, at least to show deference for Terumah by eating with clean hands, and possibly to eat with general cleanliness.
This deeply ingrained fear and respect for the laws of ritual impurity and regard for the sanctity of Terumah bread cannot be underestimated.  So much so, that according to some interpretations of the Mishna Nedarim, even a thug and a murderer will still be “pious” and careful to make sure he does not defile Terumah.  The Mishna states that if one is accosted by bandits, he may make a false oath declaring his produce as Terumah, so bandits and/or self-appointed tax collectors will leave him alone.  Incredibly, this implies that a bandit, who has no qualms robbing and murdering, will not want to transgress the boundary of defiling Terumah. This brings new meaning to the concept of honor among thieves![14]
These were not the only instances where the rabbis tapped into the taboo against impurity as a way to shape society. The Sages were quite concerned about Jewish children being exposed to inappropriate sexual contact during playtime with their gentile neighbors. They therefore decreed that gentile children be considered to have the impurity of a zav (a certain disease that was considered to cause a high degree of impurity, see Leviticus ch. 15) so that the Jewish children would not play with the gentile children. This decree was enacted to protect them from being subjected to improper contact.[15] One would think it would have been more effective to just educate and warn parents about the dangers of inappropriate sexual contact and/or abuse, as we attempt to do nowadays. Apparently, the rabbis who enacted this decree felt the standards of tznius would be violated if they stated their concerns directly, and/or their warnings would go unheeded because the average parent considered such acts unthinkable. They therefore resorted to the fear of impurity as a way to influence parental behavior and protect the children, taking care of safety concerns without violating tznius or overwhelming people with information beyond their ability to emotionally process.”
We see from the above examples that the rabbis had no qualms about withholding information and influencing people via their taboos, so long as it was for a worthy cause.  Apparently, at least in regard to the examples of the scrolls and molestation prevention, the rabbis did not have enough faith in the average person’s ability to grasp or handle the entire truth.  One wonders if this is an approach that would work well nowadays.  It does not seem likely.  As members of a democratic and open society, people expect and demand transparency from their leaders.  While these may or may not be Torah values, they are expectations that are accepted as our rights.  Furthermore, as we shall see later in this essay, the research shows that in modern times the average person is indeed more capable of understanding and grasping nuances than in previous generations.  [16]
As If They Are Children
In his introduction to Perek Chelek, Maimonides tells us that the pleasures of the soul are as inconceivable to us as color is to person who
is blind from birth.  The ultimate reason for doing mitzvot should not be about reward or punishment, rather one’s focus should be on wanting to become attached to G-d by performing his will.  In the World to Come, the soul will experience great ecstasy to whatever degree it can attain attachment to G-d, and the greatest possible punishment is that of karet, which is the soul’s disconnection from G-d.[17]  Maimonides tells us, despite the value and importance of this lofty concept, the Torah exhorts people in terms of reward and punishment as a concession to the limits of human understanding and motivation.  Few people would be motivated by the abstract notion of connection or disconnection to G-d.  Instead, for most people, the expectation of concrete reward and punishment is necessary to propel people in the direction of spiritual growth.  In time, as the person ascends to greater heights, he may be become capable of fulfilling the commandments completely lishmah, as is prescribed by Antignos Ish Socho in Pirke Avot.[18]   Maimonides explains that this is no different than a parent or teacher who motivates a young child to study by offering him sweets, and then as he gets older, offers even more significant prizes.  Only when the child is a full adult will he realize the value of what he is studying, and will he no longer require material rewards and prizes.
But, again one must wonder, is it true that people today would be insufficiently motivated by a vision of spiritual ecstasy and attachment to G-d?  The thousands of Jews and non-Jews who flock to gurus, ashrams, so-called “Kabbalah” Centers and other similar places seem to indicate this is not quite true.  In fact, perhaps to the modern man, the idea of heavenly reward and punishment may seem juvenile and much less of a motivator than the notion of performing good and moral deeds for their own sake.  Furthermore, although in the intimacy of my counseling practice as a psychotherapist, I indeed have encountered a fair share of clients who express nihilistic sentiments and profess atheism or agnosticism, I also have been deeply moved by persons of high moral character who profess a firm conviction that there is no G-d, nor any afterlife whatsoever.  I have seen such persons withstand remarkable moral tests.  Are they deluding themselves and actually, deep down, fear a final accounting in the Afterlife, or are they truly capable of being moral for its own sake?[19]   Has modern Man expanded his capacity for spirituality, and if so, in what way?
Midrash and Aggadot
Midrash have been explained and interpreted throughout the ages in accordance with various Jewish exegetical and philosophical approaches.  Medieval commentaries throughout the ages have instructed us to understand midrashic stories as allegorical in nature, hinting at lofty concepts such as mystical and kabbalistic teachings which the rabbis were reluctant to state explicitly.[20]   
In his introduction to his commentary on the Mishna, Maimonides states that the aggadot were taught to a general audience, which included children and those who were not scholars.  He therefore explains:
“One cannot teach the general public except by means of parable and riddle so as to include…the youth, in order that when their intellect reach a more complete level, they will understand the meaning of the parables.”
The proper and meaningful study of midrash is in general a vastly unexplored area of learning for most Jews, even those who spend many hours a day studying Torah in depth.  Unfortunately, aggadot are often relegated to the status of Jewish tales told to entertain children without enough thought being given to their deep meanings.
Are children today truly incapable of understanding the deeper meanings of these midrashim?  Personally, I recall studying a midrash with a nine year-old boy which stated that the Torah was primordially written with “Black fire on top of white fire.”[21]  When I asked him what he thought it meant, he told me “The black is the Yetzer Hara, and the white is the Yetzer Hatov.  The Torah needs both in order to be complete.”
Admittedly, this was a particularly precocious young man who had a track record of ingenious insights.  Nevertheless, it is worth considering that children today are quite capable of seeing deeper meanings in aggadot when challenged to do so.  All we need to do is keep an open mind and ask them what they think.  Here is one example of how this can be done with a famous midrash taught to all children.
The Sun and the Moon
“In the beginning of the creation of the world, G-d made the Sun and the Moon to be the same size and equally bright.  After they were created, the Moon approached G-d and said to him, “It does not make sense that two rulers should wear the same crown.”  G-d answered, “Okay, then you be the one who is shrunken to a smaller size and the Sun shall rule!”   The Moon then replied, “Because I said one smart thing you punish me so severely?”  G-d answered the Moon, “I’ll tell you what.  Go, and you shall rule over day and night.”  The Moon then replied, “What purpose is there in my ruling over the day, when there is plenty of light and no one needs my light?”  G-d replied, “Go, and through you the Jewish people will measure the days and the years, and thereby establish the dates of the holy days.  After some additional give and take, G-d saw that the Moon still was not satisfied, and in response he made following
request of the Jewish people: “On every Rosh Chodesh bring a sacrifice on my behalf in order that I obtain forgiveness for having reduced the light of the Moon.””[22]
If encouraged to do so, even young students will have no problem finding the obvious lessons in the story, such as how the Moon’s greed and grandiosity did not pay in the end.  But what about the other ideas in the story?  What can the students make of this give and take between the Moon and G-d?  Not only does the Moon gain concessions, in the end, G-d even asks the Jewish people to seek forgiveness on his behalf!
The Maharsha (Ad loc.) interprets this dialogue to be about the Jewish people.  In order for them to achieve their spiritual goals they must undergo great suffering in this world.  Ultimately, they will reap the reward in the world to come.  Nevertheless, the fact that the Jewish people must suffer so much in exile is, so to speak, painful to G-d, and he therefore tries to console the Jewish people.  First, by giving them the Jewish Festivals, but ultimately by reminding them that just as the Moon waxes and wanes through its cycles, so too the Jewish people will have moments in history when they are powerful and others when they are weak.
Given some chance to discuss this, children can easily be led to see these deeper meanings.  It also gives the teacher an opportunity to discuss the ways in which the Torah presents G-d with human emotions.  Though G-d is not subject to emotional whims, he chooses to reveal himself in such a manner so humans can relate to him.[23]  Within that light, from this story we see a willingness by G-d to enter into a dialogue with the sinner, to make accommodations, adjustments, and surprisingly, even to regret the harshness of the punishment he enacted.  From this story, any chutzpadik and misbehaving child could surely draw comfort.
Surely, with the right kind of instruction, this kind of analysis and understanding is well within the range of even many first graders.  We have a great opportunity to combine intellectual analysis with an emotional component to inspire internalization and practice of Torah values.  Yet previous generations seem to have preferred keeping this treasure trove of information in the form of a child’s tale.  It seems to me that our generation of children have an increased capacity for deeper reasoning and understanding and should be encouraged to look at these stories in a more symbolic light.   My experience talking to children today shows me that they are capable of great depth, analysis and interpretation.  Let us see why this might be true, and what has changed in recent history.
The I.Q.’s Keep Rising
One striking area where each successive generation is superior to the next is in regard to I.Q. Test scores.
“In 1981, New Zealand-based psychologist James Flynn…Comparing raw I.Q. scores over nearly a century… saw that they kept going up: every few years, the new batch of I.Q. test takers seemed to be smarter than the old batch. Twelve-year-olds in the 1980s performed better than twelve-year-olds in the 1970s, who performed better than twelve-year-olds in the 1960s, and so on. This trend wasn’t limited to a certain region or culture, and the differences were not trivial. On average, I.Q. test takers improved over their predecessors by three points every ten years – a staggering difference of eighteen points over two generations.
The differences were so extreme, they were hard to wrap one’s head around. Using a late-twentieth-century average score of 100, the comparative score for the year 1900 was calculated to be about 60 – leading to the truly absurd conclusion, acknowledged Flynn, ‘that a majority of our ancestors were mentally retarded.’ The so-called Flynn effect raised eyebrows throughout the world of cognitive research. Obviously, the human race had not evolved into a markedly smarter species in less than one hundred years. Something else was going on.
For Flynn, the pivotal clue came in his discovery that the increases were not uniform across all areas but were concentrated in certain subtests. Contemporary kids did not do any better than their ancestors when it came to general knowledge or mathematics. But in the area of abstract reasoning, reported Flynn, there were ‘huge and embarrassing’ improvements. The further back in time he looked, the less test takers seemed comfortable with hypotheticals and intuitive problem solving. Why? Because a century ago, in a less complicated world, there was very little familiarity with what we now consider basic abstract concepts. ‘[The intelligence of] our ancestors in 1900 was anchored in everyday reality,’ explains Flynn. ‘We differ from them in that we can use abstractions and logic and the hypothetical … Since 1950, we have become more ingenious in going beyond previously learned rules to solve problems on the spot.’
Examples of abstract notions that simply didn’t exist in the minds of our nineteenth-century ancestors include…the concepts of control groups (1875) and random samples (1877). A century ago, the scientific method itself was foreign to most Americans. The general public had simply not yet been conditioned to think abstractly.
The catalyst for the dramatic I.Q. improvements, in other words, was not some mysterious genetic mutation or magical nutritional supplement but what Flynn described as ‘the [cultural] transition from pre-scientific to post- scientific operational thinking.’ Over the course of the twentieth century, basic principles of science slowly filtered into public consciousness, transforming the world we live in. That transition, says Flynn, ‘represents nothing less than a liberation of the human mind.’
The scientific world-view, with its vocabulary, taxonomies, and detachment of logic and the hypothetical from concrete referents, has begun to permeate the minds of post-industrial people. This has paved the way for mass education on the university level and the emergence of an intellectual cadre without whom our present civilization would be inconceivable.
Perhaps the most striking of Flynn’s observations is this: 98 percent of IQ test takers today score better than the average test taker in 1900. The implications of this realization are extraordinary. It means that in just one century, improvements in our social discourse and our schools have dramatically raised the measurable intelligence of almost everyone.”[24] 
Chinuch Implications
According to these findings, our generation has the highest capacity for abstract reasoning and analysis than ever before.  Young children today who spend a great deal of time on computers, are even more used to hypothetical thought, layers of representation of symbolism, nuances and multiple perspectives than almost every computer game employs.  In fact, the actual use of a computer itself engenders recognition of symbolic content because the entire graphical interface is representation of acts rather than actual physical acts.  Opening “windows”, switching from one program to another, multi-tasking, becoming exposed to world events as they unfold in real time via newsfeeds, and playing role playing games can all lead to expanded consciousness and awareness. True, these same technologies can also lead children to be highly distractibility and crave constant stimulation, but let us focus on this generation’s gifts and strengths instead of bemoaning their shortcomings.
This is not the first time in Jewish history where a successor generation was superior in one aspect over a previous generation.  The Talmud records a remark of Rav Papa to Abaye, who ponders why miracles happened to the earlier generations and not nowadays.  Rav Papa states that it cannot be due to lack of Torah knowledge, as he declares their knowledge to be superior.[25]
I am not an educator by profession, so the definitive implications of these findings for the chinuch of our children require more extensive thought and discussion.  However, some areas that we might consider are :
  1. Increased focus on symbolic meaning, philosophy and the deeper aspects of the Torah.  Our children are indeed capable of understanding the Torah on a very deep level and we should not make the mistake of selling them short.  It is possible to engage them in actively interpreting and delving into a study of reasons for the mitzvot.  Maimonides encourages people to do, regardless of whether the mitzvah is a chok (law without an obvious reason) or a mishpat (law based on apparent logic.)  Maimonides states, “Though all the laws of the Torah are decrees [and not subject to debate]…it is fitting to contemplate them and, to whatever extent possible, try to find reasons for them.”[26]  One should pause to ask why Maimonides considers it important to find reasons for the laws of the Torah if they must be followed regardless of whether they seem logical or not?  Presumably the answer is that when one makes an effort to understand the laws, it helps guide a person to think in consonance with the morals and ethics of the Torah, thereby increasing the development of character.  With proper guidance and encouragement, our children can excel in this area.
  1. Likewise, in regard to the study of aggadot, we could help the children reach for the deep lessons and interpretations of these allegories, to strengthen their belief and respect for the insights found in our tradition.
  1. Every now and then, someone bemoans the fact that in prior generations, the yeshivot covered far more ground and mastered hundreds of blatt, instead of merely focusing on a few blatt per year, studied in great depth.  While this criticism is valid and important, perhaps we also should embrace this situation in recognition that the yeshivot might be indulging in a great deal of analysis for one simple reason – the students are good at it.  As a generation, more individuals are capable of this deeper learning than ever before.  Thus, the desire to do so is understandable, and may need to be given more recognition.  True, the knowledge of basics needs to be encouraged as well, but this can be tempered with a special appreciation that more and more young people have a thirst to study and analyze in greater depth and the drive should not be excessively stunted.  As the Talmud says, “A person should always study in the direction that his heart desires.”[27]
  1. It is well and good to teach our children humility and historical perspective but care might be taken not to overdo and engender an attitude of pessimism and defeatism.  They certainly should understand the brilliance, dedication and awesome spiritual and moral character possessed by sages of previous generations.  Nevertheless, no one wants to be on a losing team, so if we want children to stay loyal to Jewish tradition and practices, they ought to feel like winners.  We can also convey a message of confidence and belief in their ability as Jews and spiritual beings to make new and important contributions, as opposed to being mere paving bricks, biding time on the road to the Messiah.  Showing them their unique strengths and intellectual abilities is one way to do that.
Concluding Thoughts
As they mature in life, our children will be exposed to science and philosophy in various degrees.  Some may learn complex ideas as a result of the professions they choose such as medicine, psychology, sociology or other science-based courses of study, or may just read about these ideas on their own due to the readily available and popular works.  Today, your average person can go to a book store and purchase titles such as Stephen Hawking’s Brief History of Time, which makes physics and astronomy understandable to the common man.  Do we want to run the risk of our children having a grade-school understanding of the Torah, and then as they grow up and learn about the world, find secular ideas to be more sophisticated and exciting?  While indeed, in some respects, our generation is at a spiritual and moral low point, embarrassingly insignificant compared to the giants of years past, we do not have to wallow in self-pity.  Rather, we have an opportunity to modify our curriculum and include deeper and more profound aspects of the Torah, allowing our children to become stimulated as they capitalize on their ever increasing capacity to comprehend what previous generation considered secret, esoteric and beyond the reach of but a few.
Rabbi Simcha Feuerman, LCSW-R is psychotherapist in private practice specializing in high conflict couples and families.  He serves as Director of Operations for OHEL Children’s Home and Family Services, and as President of Nefesh International.  Simchafeuerman@gmail.com

 

[1] Menachem Kellner in Maimonides on the Decline of
the Generations
(Albany: SUNY Press, 1996) suggests that according to
Maimonides the previous generations of rabbis have superiority on the basis of
their access to a less distorted masorah,
but not due to an inherent supernatural superiority.
[2] See Eruvin 53a which suggests that the deterioration
in Torah knowledge of successive generations as due to many factors including
lack of spiritual breadth and lack of studiousness.
[3] Ba’er Heytev, Shulchan Aruch, O.H. 558:3
[4] Shulchan Aruch, O.H. 563:4
[5] Zohar Chadash, on Parashas Yitro, by the first verse of the Aseret
Hadibrot, 20:1.
[6] Leviticus 25:35-38
[7] See Exodus 23:9 and Leviticus 19:33
[8] Berachot 57b, see also Maimonides, Shemoneh Perakim,
ch. 5, where he elaborates on this concept.
[9] Shabbat 14a
[10] Chulin 106a
[11] Beitzah 3a, see Mesoras Hashas ad loc. for further
references
[12] Shabbat 14a
[13] See Mishna Berurah 158:1 which offers both reasons,
that of habituation in ritual purity for Terumah,
and also physical cleanliness as an aspect or representation of spiritual
purity.
[14] Nedarim 3:4, see Bartenura ad loc.
[15] Shabbat 17b
[16] See R. Eliezer Lippmann’ Neusatz’ Mei Menuhot,
published in 1884.  Here is a quote from
Dr. Marc Shapiro’s discussion on the Seforim Blog (here)
“On p. 16a, after citing Maimonides’ words that the majority err in
understanding aggadot literally, Neusatz comments that this was the situation
in earlier times, which were less religiously sophisticated than later
generations. The proof that the earlier generations were religiously naïve is
that belief in divine corporeality was widespread then. According to Neusatz,
people who were so mistaken about God that they imagined him as a corporeal
being would obviously not be able to understand Aggadah in a non-literal
fashion. He contrasts that with the generation he lived in, which was able to
properly understand Aggadah.
אמנם בדורנו זה נזדככו יותר הרעיונות ונלטשו הלבבות והמושגים האלהיים
הנשגבים האלה מצטיירים בלבות המאמינים בטוהר יותר ורוב זוהר, ונתמעטו אנשי הכת
הזאת, ותה”ל רובם יודעים שחז”ל כתבו אגדותיהם ע”ד משל ומליצה וחדות
וכפי הצורך אשר היה להם לפי ענין הדורות אשר היה לפניהם, פנימיותם הם ענינים
אמתיים נשגבים עומדים ברומו של עולם.”
[17] Also see Maimonides, Mishne Torah, Hilchot Teshuvha
chapters. 8 and 10 where he elaborates on this theme
[18]  Avot 1:3
[19] It is important to point out that though this is
superficially similar to Maimonides’ position, and certainly relatively
admirable, being moral for its own sake with no belief in the ultimate goal of
connection to G-d is problematic.
According to Maimonides, doing a mitzvah
lishmah – for its own sake, does not
mean without connection to G-d.  It just
means without a need or desire for reward as a motivator.  In fact, in Hilchot Melachim (8:11),
Maimonides definitively states that a Gentile who fulfills the seven Noachide
Laws out of logic and morality alone without doing them with the intent to
fulfill the Creator’s mitzvot, will
not merit reward in the World to Come among the righteous gentiles.  This is even more striking because there is
no apparent source for this ruling, which suggests that Maimonides considered
this principle obvious and self-evident, perhaps stemming from his
philosophical beliefs about the nature of the soul and how immortality is
attained through a process of elevating the intellect and character, which
would be impossible without correct beliefs.
It would seem, according to Maimonides, that morality without acceptance
of the yoke of Heaven is simply not considered moral.
[20] See for example Rabbi Moses Chaim Luzzato’s
introduction to Aggadah, found in the beginning of most editions of the Ein
Yaakov, and Maimonides’ commentary on Mishna Sanhedrin, introduction to chapter
10, “the third group”, p. 137, Kapach Edition, and Ibn Ezra’s
introduction to his commentary on Chumash.
[21] Midrash Tanchuma Bereishis 1
[22] Chulin 60b
[23] See Maimonides, Mishne Torah, Yesodei Hatorah
1:9.
[24]
Shenk, David,
The Genius in All of Us, Doubleday Copyright 2010, pp. 35-37.
[25] Berachot 20a
[26] Mishne Torah, Hilchot Temurah 4:13
[27] Avoda Zara 19a

 




“Whence Worry?” – On the Murky Trail Of An Aphorism

by Yitzhak, of בין דין לדין

[I am greatly indebted to Wolf2191 and Mississippi Fred MacDowell for reading an earlier draft of this essay and for providing numerous valuable references.] This past Rosh Ha’Shanah, my friend A.F. showed me a collection of various homilies of the Rav related to the days of Awe, “prepared, translated and edited by B. David Schreiber”. While browsing through them, I noticed the following passage:

Every Jew must also ensure the continuity of future generations

(45) There is another dimension to the equation between man and tree, כי האדם עץ השדה. In addition to roots, a tree also has נוף, branches which form a panoramic vista. Chazal debate if אילן בתר עיקרו או בתר נופו, whether the roots of a tree are more important than its expanse. A tree must have both roots and branches in order to exist and flourish. Likewise, it is insufficient for man to be merely involved in the past; he must also identify with the future. The roots are bound to the tree’s past; the flowers and branches relate to its future. Likewise, the bris yisroel comprises both past and future. Nowadays, Jews are concerned with the bris of the past, but in the days of antiquity, in the time of Avraham and Moshe, they were concerned with the future. את אשר ישנו פה ואת אשר איננו פה עמנו היום. Moshe was very troubled and wanted to ensure the continuity of the Jewish religion. Through אדם עץ השדה, man is bound to the past, nonetheless, he must anticipate the future and take all actions necessary to ensure that continuity. The past requires a future, and the future requires a past. Had Jews not identified with both the past and the future, the Jewish people could not have survived.

People often say incorrectly and sarcastically,

,העבר אין, העתיד עדיין, ההווה כהרף אין, אם כן דאגה מניין,

The past is remote, the future has not yet occurred, the present is fleeting, why, then, should one be concerned?

Yahadus disagrees. Yahadus proposes:

העבר יש, והעתיד יש, וההווה גשר המקשר את העבר ואת העתיד. אם כן, יש לדאוג.

The past exists. The future exists. The present is the bridge between the past and the future. Therefore, one should be concerned.i

The first time I ever heard this “incorrect, sarcastic” aphorism was a decade or two ago, as a catchy hit song composed by Yossi Green and sung by Mordechai ben David (a contemporary cover of the song at a wedding). In an interview with the Israeli magazine בקהלה, Green discusses the provenance of the lyrics and his composition of the song:

“הקריטריון שלי”, מספק יוסי גרין את הנוסחה, “אינו אם השיר יהיה קצבי או רגוע. הניגון צריך להיות מיוחד וחייב להיות בו חידוש מוזיקלי או קונספטואלי. זה המוטיב המאפיין כל שיר שלי. אתן לך דוגמא. כשהלחנתי את ‘דאגה מניין’, זה היה בתקופה שבה רווח בכל מקום המשפט ‘דונט וורי, בי הפי’ (אל תדאג, היה שמח). לאברמ’ל פריד הלחנתי באותה עת את ‘נישט געדאגהט יידן’ ולמרדכי בן דוד את ‘דאגה מניין’. זה היה בלתי שגרתי בעליל, משהו שכולם דיברו עליו”.

על ‘דאגה מניין’ יש לו גם סיפור, אחד מני רבים. “זאת באמת שאלה טובה, איך הגעתי למילים הללו”, הוא אומר כשאני תוהה על כך באוזניו. “אמי הייתה מאושפזת במצב לא טוב. רציתי להשמיע באוזניה דברים שייתנו מרגוע לנפשה. עיינתי בספרים הקדושים ומצאתי באבן עזרא את המילים הללו, שהן מילים נפלאות והקראתי לה מתוכן. הדברים נסכו בה עידוד רב.

“כשבאתי הביתה, קראתי למרדכי בן דוד לביתי ואמרתי לו, יש לי מילים נפלאות לשיר. כשהשמעתי לו את המילים, הוא אמר לי, אני לא מאמין. איפה מצאת מילים כאלו. הוא תמיד קורא לי, ‘הנה יוסף בעל החלומות’. גם הפעם השתמש בביטוי הזה באומרו, מאיפה אתה מוצא את המילים הללו. כך הולחן השיר”.

Green’s attribution of the aphorism to Ibn Ezra is a common error; while there are, indeed, many relatively recent works that do so (one of which Green probably encountered), none provide a source, and it is fairly certain that this is a misattribution. Wolf2191 points out another apparent misattribution; Rav Baruch Epstein ascribes authorship to Shelah, but unfortunately provides no source:

ולפעמים כשהיה אבי זקני רואה איש שקוע בצער ודאגה, היה משתדל לפזר מעליו ענני העצבות ולהשיב רוחו ולהרגיע נפשו, והטעים לו דברי נחומים ותקוה, ובתוכם זכר את דברי השל”ה שכתב בענין מניעת הדאגה בכלל, כזה:

העבר אין והעתיד עדיין וההוה כהרף עין ואם כן הדאגה מנין

והכוונה, כי אחרי אשר הזמן העבר כבר איננו, ואם כן איננו בדאגה עוד, והעתיד – איש לא ידענו, ועל כן אינו צריך להיות בדאגה עליו, וההוה ימשך כהרף עין, ומה ערכו ושויו של זמן קצר כזה כי נדאג עליו ..ii

As Wolf2191 notes, not only is our aphorism not to be found in Shelah, but on the contrary, Shelah is quite in favor of worrying:

גם יהיה דאגה בלבו. הנה צער ויגון שייך על העבר, שיצטער ויהגה על העבר דהיינו מה שעשה. ודאגה על העתיד, ידאג ויפחד מעונש עוונותיו, כי יש עוונות שהתשובה תולה כפרתן ויסורין ממרקין, כמו שנאמר (תהלים לח:יט) ,כי עוני אגיד אדאג מחטאתי’.

ועוד שנית, ידאג ויפחד תמיד אולי הוא מקצר בחובת התשובה, בצער ובמרירות ובצום ובכי. וגם כי הרבה צער והרבה בכי, יזחיל ויירא, אולי לעומת זה הרבה אשמה ולא השלים חקו, ויבונן בגודל עבודת הבורא על יצוריו, וכי אין קץ לרעת הממרה את פיו. כל אשר יוסיף בעבודת ד’ ובדרכי התשובה, הלא מצער אצלו ויהיה למעוט בעיניו.iii

The aphorism is found, though, in a work by a contemporary of Shelah, whom the latter esteemed – the יוסף אומץ (Frankfurt 5483) of Rav Yosef Yuspa Nördlinger, chief דיין of Frankfurt , who mentions and explains a version of the “מליצה”, but gives no hint of its provenance:

ואכתוב עוד צרי ליגון מחלת לב תוחלת ממושכה על ידי מיעוט הבטחון והיא מליצה, לחזק לב האדם שיבטח בלב שלם באלקיו ולא יצטער כלל על מה שישיגהו בעניני העולם הזה וזאת היא המליצה:

אנוש מה תדאג ותעיין, העבר אין והעתיד עדיין, וההוה כהרף אין, אם כן דאגה מניין.

וזה פירוש המליצה: העבר אין ולמה תצטער עלין הלא מה שעבר עבר ולא תוכל לשנות מה שכבר נעשה, והעתיד עדיין רצוני לומר עדיין עתיד לבא ולמה תצטער עליו והלא ישועת ד’ כהרף עין, גם אפשר שתצטער על עולם שאינו שלך כי שמא קודם באו עת הדאגה שעתה מצטער עליה יקחך ד’ לעולמך, וההוה כהרף עין רצוני לומר ההוה אין זמנו אלא כרגע ואם כן למה תצטער על דבר שאינו אלא כרגע ורצוני לומר אף אם זמן צערך ויגונך ארוך הלא כל רגע ורגע זמן בפני עצמו ואפשר שאחרי כלות הרגע ישתנה ענינו כמו שפירשתי העתיד עדיין.

אתה בן אדם כתוב זאת המליצה על לוח לבך ואז תפיק דאגותיך.iv

[From the Jewish Encyclopedia:

Hahn was the author of “Yosif Omeẓ,” which was published at Frankfort-on-the-Main in 1723 by Moses Reiss Darum, son-in-law of Joseph ben Moses Kosman. This interesting work treats of liturgical questions, of the most important moments of religious life, of education, charity, morality, the Christian holidays, and the civil calendar. It is written in a popular style; and short remarks show the author to have been a master of the Halakah. As such he was acknowledged by his contemporaries Isaiah Horowitz, author of “Shene Luḥot ha-Berit,” and Joel Särkes, author of “Bayit Ḥadash.” He expresses rational views in regard to pedagogics. He recommends adherence to the old rule given in Prov. xxii. 6, “Train up a child according to its way” (A. V. “in the way he should go”), and that the scope, method, and subject of instruction be adapted to the capacity of the child: it should not be compelled to learn what is beyond its comprehension. If not fit for the study of the Talmud, it should receive thorough instruction in the Bible, which is plain and wins the heart for the fear of God. In this work Hahn also tells of the troubles that befell the Frankfort Jews before and during the persecutions caused by Vincent , of their expulsion in 1614, and of their readmission in 1616.]

The יוסף אומץ was brought to my attention by Wolf2191, who also notes that the work הדרת אליהו‎ (Prague 5545) attributes it to “the early ones” and an anonymous “sage”:

והואיל דאתא לידן דברי הרב בעל עקרים הנ”ל … אזכור מה שפרשתי בזה בס”ד דברי התנא במס’ (אבות פרק א’) וז”ל

הוא היה אומר אם אין אני לי מי לי וכו’ ואם לא עכשיו אימתי.

… ועתה לא באתי אלא לפרש הסיפא דאמר ואם לא עכשיו אימתי. אשר בזה נפלא ממני פירושו שעל איזה זמן אמר התנא בלשון עכשיו כאלו הזכיר קודם לזה איזה זמן מוגבל.

אמנם על פי דברי הרב בעל עקרים הנ”ל דיבר התנא דברי תוכחת מוסר. ונפרש תחילה דברי הרב הנ”ל שאמר לעיל וז”ל

ואולם העתה עצמו אינו זמן על דרך האמת וכו’

רצונו בזה כי אין עת בעולם אשר יאמר עליו כי הוא זה עתה או יעלה במחשבה שהזמן זה הוא עתה. כי טרם יכלה מחשבת מלת עתה ממחשבתך אף שהוא זמן קצר מאוד מאוד. עם כל זה כבר עבר וחלף הזמן המעט הזה ונעשה ממנו עבר ואין זמן בעולם נמצא אשר תהיה וחל עליו זמן עתה אף במחשבה ופשיטא שלא יכלכלו הדבור לומר עתה כי טרם יפתח פיו לומר מלת עתה כבר עבר זמנו ובטל מחשבתו ונעשה עבר. ואם כן אין זמן עתה בעולם כי אם העבר והעתיד נפגשים זה בזה תמיד ואין תווך מבדיל בינותם.

וכבר ידוע מה שהביאו הקדמונים ז”ל. אמר החכם

העבר אין והעתיד עדיין אם כן דאגה מניין.

אך פן יאמר האומר אמת דעל זמן העבר אין לי שום דאגה ועל העתיד גם כן לא אדאג כמאמר החכם אל תצר צרות מחר. אך עכשיו הנה רע ומר לי. לזה בא התנא ואמר ואם לא עכשיו כלומר אם אין עכשיו בעולם נמצא על איזה זמן תדאג וק”ל:v

Returning to Yossi Green – he was actually apparently not the first to turn the aphorism into a song; it is claimed that it used to be sung in the great Yeshivah of Novardok:

סיפר הרב שנשאל מהו המקור של המאמר שהיו שרים בנובהרדוק “העבר אין והעתיד עדיין וההוה כהרף אין ודאגה מנין”, ופלוני אמר שהוא ב”אבן עזרא”, ולא מצאתיו אבל מקור המאמר נמצא בספר “פלא יועץ” (אות “דאגה”).vi

The ‘Rav’ (Rav Chaim Kanievsky) refers us to the celebrated nineteenth century moralistic treatise פלא יועץ, by the Bosnian-Bulgarian Rav Eliezer Papo:

כתיב (משלי יב:כה) דאגה בלב איש ישחנה. ופרשו רבותינו ז”ל (יומא עה.) יסיחנה מדעתו, אי נמי ישיחנה לאחרים.

ותרויהו איתנהו, שבתחלה ישתדל להסיחה מדעתו במחשבות טהורות וטענות מספיקות שיש ויש כדי לדחות הדאגה,

ואם לא יכול ישיחנה לאחרים, דהינו תלמידי-חכמים ואנשי מדע שידעו לתקנו בעצה טובה וידברו לו דברים המבטלים הדאגה ומישבים את הלב, כי כבר אמר החכם (מראה מוסר, ה) העבר אין, העתיד עדין, דאגה מנין, קום שתה יין. שאם הדבר כבר עבר מה יועיל בדאגה, האם יוכל להשיבו, ולא די לו רעת הרעה שארע לו אלא שיוסיף רעת הדאגה וחיי צער יחיה יסיחנה מדעתו. ואם הוא דבר שעתיד להיות, אם יש תקנה יעשה התקנה, ואם לא יש תקנה מה יועיל בדאגה, יבטח בשם ד’ וישען באלקיו זה כלל גדול להסיר הדאגה:vii

[The referral of the sufferer of depression to “men of science who will know how to repair him with good counsel and will speak to him words that will nullify the worry and settle his heart” is a remarkably modern-sounding endorsement of therapy.] While the earlier editions of the work, from its first publication in 1824 and on, that I have checked provide no source for the “sage’s” statement, a recent edition (Yerushalayim 5767) refers us to something called מראה המוסר. As described in בית עקד ספרים:

מראה מוסר, דער צוכט שפיגל, איין געטליך אונ’ וועלטליך ספר, שפריך ווערטר פאן אונזרע חכמים, מה”ר זליגמן אולמא מגינצבורג

A mere decade ago, I might have given up here, since I do not have ready access to a good library, but today, thanks to the incredible work of those behind HebrewBooks.org, the work is easily available with the proverbial click of a mouse. While the work is now rather obscure, it was apparently quite popular in its day, going through four printings in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. It is an alphabetical collection of miscellaneous aphorisms, moralisms and other quotable passages, in Hebrew and Aramaic, with Yiddish explanations, many from the Talmud, but many of much murkier provenance, our aphorism obviously among the latter.viii HebrewBooks has the third edition (Ovibach 5476):

אנוש אח קין. מה תדאג ותעיין.

בהפקד קנין. ורוב ענין

במשקל ובמנין. הכל הבל ורעיון.

העבר אין. והעתיד עדין.

וההוה כהרף עין. אם כן דאגה מנין:ix

Anyone can use HebrewBooks, but it takes Mississippi Fred MacDowell to point out that the other three editions (in addition to the Ovibach one) are available from the Jiddische Drucke collection at the Universitätsbibliothek Frankfurt a.M.:

The claim that this is the (direct) source of the פלא יועץ is problematic, though, in light of the differences between the versions: R. Papo omits the phrase “וההוה כהרף עין”, and adds the phrase “קום שתה יין”. In any event, here the trail goes cold; while מה”ר זליגמן אולמא מגינצבורג is clearly not the originator of these verses, I have been unable to trace them back any further, and so I pass the baton to the erudite readership of the Seforim blog: where and when does this aphorism originate?

iנוראות הרב, חלק חמשה עשר, דרשות על ברכות מלכיות, זכרונות ושופרות, קדושת יום הכיפורים, והגיונו של אדם, נערך, תורגם והוגה על ידי ב. דוד שרייבער, עמוד 97
iiמקור ברוך חלק ראשון פרק ג’ “החיים והלשון” סעיף ה’ עמודים שפט.-:‏
iiiשני לוחות הברית, מסכת יומא פרק נר מצוה, אות ס”ט
ivיוסף אומץ (פ”פ דמיין תפ”ג) עמוד קסח: – קשר
vהדרת אליהו חלק ראשון דרוש שני סימן ה’ עמודים לד:-לה. ד”ה ונשובה – קשר, קשר
viדרך שיחה עמוד ז.
viiפלא יועץ ערך דאגה
viiiContrary to the citation in the פלא יועץ, it actually appears under the letter א and not ה, as it is part of a larger poem beginning with the word אנוש.
ixמראה המוסר (אוביבאך תע”ו), אות א’ עמוד ה. – קשר
xבית עקד ספרים gives 374, but the title page explicitly states 438, as per the Universitätsbibliothek catolog.
xiבית עקד ספרים has 493; the Universitätsbibliothek gives “ca. 1750”.



Midrash Lekah Tov, part Deux

In a follow-up to Professor Carmi Horowitz’s recent post at the Seforim blog, I wanted to discuss, in a bit more detail, the new reprint of the Midrash Lekah Tov and further bolster Prof. Horowitz’s conclusion that this new reprint falls short of expectations as well as the Makhon who did this. In the world of Hebrew books there are many books published almost daily, while there is much quantity should not be mistaken for quality. In truth this is not a new phenomenon, rather R. Jacob Emden in the 18th century decries the mass amount of poor Hebrew literature and that although there is much published not much is that good. R. Yitzchak Satanow, R. Emden’s contemporary, also points out the dearth of quality literature and, perhaps more importantly, the masses willingness to accept this literature. He claims that he was thus forced to publish his own works under pseudonyms attributing the works to persons much earlier than was actually the case. With these comments we can turn to what will be the first part of a two part post discussing a particular publishing house as well as their most recent publication, the Midrash Lekah Tov. First, the “new” edition of this Midrash. This Midrash which was authored by R. Tuvia b. Eliezer who lived in the 11th century in the Byzantian Empire. Bibliographically, this Midrash has somewhat of a storied history. It was first published from an incomplete manuscript in 1546 in Venice and titled Pisketa Zutra. Only the portions on Vayikra through Devarim were published.

It was not until 1880 was the full edition on the Torah published by Dr. Solomon Buber. I have used the Dr. appellation as he had a doctorate but I am unsure if he had semikha, this however, is not a bar to the use of the Rabbi appellation, as in the Vilna Shas in the Achrit Davar at the end of Mesekhet Niddah, he is referred to as R. Solomon Buber. Dr. Solomon Buber dedicated this work to the memory of his father, R. Yeshaiah Avraham Halevi. Additionally, the portions on the five Meggilot were published around that time for the first time as well, Esther 1886, Ruth in 1887, Eicha in 1895 (there was an edition published the next year in Calford, England, which was touted as the first edition, in actuality it was the second edition), Kohelet in 1904, Shir haShirim in 1909. Now, as Prof. Horowitz has noted, Makhon Zikhron Ahron has republished the section on the Torah and five Meggilot with Buber’s comments as well as a few notes from R. Yerucham Fishel Perla.

Although they neglect to mention where they located that R. Perla’s notes, appeared 50 years ago in the journal Hadarom which they most probably found in Sa’rei haElef. Aside from the above they reset the type. Importantly, however, the text remains the same as it was in 1880. A simple search of the Jewish National and University Library (JNUL) catalog reveals that there are at least sixty some manuscripts available, most were neither available nor used by Buber in his edition, but nor are they used in this edition.

Instead, our edition is frozen in the late nineteenth-century. These manuscripts contain much additional information as was already pointed out by Prof. Yisrael Ta-Shema in his article on this work. Now, lest one think that Buber’s edition the type was unreadable, rather it was a highly readable edition, further, it was not unavailable, but instead reprinted on many occasions in photomechanical offsets, and in fact, as Prof. Horowitz noted, this new edition the Greek is almost unreadable as they did it by hand or via cut and paste. Why then this work was republished in this “special” edition but remained as it was is rather unclear.

This is not the only time this Makhon has failed to use important manuscripts when reprinting something. Additionally, this same Makhon reprinted the Perkei D’Reb Eliezer. What is shocking about this is that there are very important manuscripts, manuscripts which this Makhon did not bother using, which one doesn’t have to even go to a library, they are online! There is an entire project devoted to the correct text of the Perkei D’Reb Eliezer. Instead, as they did here, they merely reset the type and reprinted the Perkei D’Reb Eliezer. Of course, no one is obligated to use every manuscript, but when as is the case both here and in the case of the Perkei D’Reb Eliezer, the prior editions are available, what is the point in merely resetting the type and reprinting the books? A good example of a reprint where it was valuable was the case, by this same Makhon where they reprinted and reset the type of some important unavailable works on the Shulhan Arukh, including R. Chaim Buchner’s Or Chadash, Nachlat Tzvi, and Olat Shabbat (which the Magen Avraham refers to by the abbreviation O.S. on many occasions). This as an excellent reprint as the earlier editions were difficult to come by and difficult to read. Or, again the same Makhon, reprinted the Levush. This edition is beautiful. They reset the type included, in the proper place both the Eliyahu Rabba and Zuta, the commentary of the Hida’s grandfather from manuscript, as well as notes and other commentaries. This is excellent and has now been reprinted in a smaller format. The Makhon also printed an edition of Perek Shira which has three commentaries from manuscript one being from R. Dovid Oppenheim, that was also very good. Thus, I want to make clear, that while the books such as Lekah Tov are disappointing, this Makhon has published some excellent works.

Now, however, it is worthwhile noting that this Makhon is set up as a public service and as such is not out to make money. And, it is highly laudable to reprint seforim, my point here, is to merely point out some areas where the Makhon can improve.

It may be instructive to discuss how we know what we already do about this work, and I apologize to those readers who already know this. First, as mentioned above, for bibliographical information on this sort of work, R. Menachem M. Kasher’s Sa’arei HaElef is irreplaceable. As noted above, he records that R. Y. Perla’s comments had been printed. Additionally, he provides the location of reviews on Buber’s edition. As this work was updated by Kasher’s student, Mandelbaum he also adds to this information as well. Recently, Prof. Simcha Emmanuel has updated Sa’arei HaElef as well but only the poskim portion, hopefully a full update will happen soon.

Setting aside the more general tutorial, wWe can turn to the work itself. Prof. Ta-Shema wrote an article which he intended to publish in Sidra, however, he died before he was able to submit the final version for publication. Nevertheless, in the posthumously published Keneset Mechkarim vol. 3 (pp. 259-94) we have this article, “Midrash ‘Lekah Tov’ – Its Historic Place and Purpose.” Prof. Ta-Shema reviews the work and points out important details. He discusses the various laws and customs gleaned from this work.

Particularly timely is the appearance, in this work, of the custom to blow the shofar during the month of Elul.[1] this work contains much in the way of explicating the law, one of the purposes is to demonstrate the close connection between the written and oral Torah and thus much is devoted to showing how the laws are derived from the Torah. This focus was in part to disprove the Karaites. And, as Ta-Shema notes, it was not only strictly legal questions which the Lekah Tov disputes with the Karaites, rather substative theory is addressed as well. This is one of the many times the various available manuscripts come into play. (See Ta-Shema pp. 269-71). There are numerous examples where Lekah Tov takes issue with the Karaites, including lights on Shabbat, Yemi Taharah, an established calendar, and Shavuot.

Ta-Shema notes that the style of this work is to explicate the verses in a fairly peshat oriented manner similar, although not the same, as Rashi. In fact, they were contemporaries. This fact is particularly important for understanding Rashi. Specifically, there is a question whether Rashi’s commentary on the Torah as we have it today is all from Rashi or have there been additions. Obviously, whether we can say all which is attributed to Rashi is in fact from him is rather important. The question with the Lekah Tov is that there appear quotes from the Lekah Tov in Rashi. Well then we must decide when the Lekah Tov was disseminated. As if it was not until after Rashi then it is clear that there must be at least some later additions to Rashi’s commentary, if Lekah Tov significantly predates Rashi then this poses no problem. But, this is all complicated by the fact the Lekah Tov seems to have used Rashi and visa versa. One possibility which would explain this is that both these works went through more than one edition, thus in the very first edition of Rashi he did not include the Lekah Tov, but after he got a hold of it and Rashi was revising his commentary he included those comments and the same for the Lekah Tov’s use of Rashi. According to this explanation the fidelity of Rashi is not questioned.[2] But, as is apparent this is a very important question, one which could have been explored had an attempt to reconstruct when and how many editions the Lekah Tov was originally written in and when.

As should be apparent, Prof. Horowitz’s criticism of this edition are well-founded. It is especially unfortunate that today when it is so easy due in part to the advances in technology that it seems at times we have not progressed at all.

Notes
[1] For more on this topic see, among others, Pardes Eliezer, Chap. 1, 29-88; Yehiel Goldhaber, Minhagei HaKehilot, pp. 5-8; Oberlander, Minhag Avoteinu, Vol. 1, chap. 1, 3-23; Daniel Sperber, Minhagi Yisrael, vol. 2 pp. 204-14.

[2] For more and additional sources discussing this question see Yisrael Ta-Shema pp. 266-7 n. 25; on the various edition of Rashi’s commentary to the Talmud see Y. S. Speigel, Amudim B’Tolodot Sefer HaIvri Kitva V’Hataka, pp. 113-22. The claim that a work attributed to an author is not fully from him is used by many to explain various perceived inconsistencies. As Prof. Marc B. Shapiro pointed out, in his recent post at the Seforim blog, R. Moshe used this to explain controversial comments of R. Yehuda HaHassid. See Speigel, id. pp. 271-75 and generally id. chapter 6 discussing responsa literature. For an example of this in the case of a Torah commentary see the comments of R. M.M. Kasher Torah Shelmah where he claims that a particularly controversial passage of the Ibn Ezra’s commentary where he seems to imply Moshe did not write various portions of the Torah was inserted later.