The Perils of Ignoring Precedent: Alterations in the Kaddish Prayer

The Perils of Ignoring Precedent:
Alterations in the Kaddish Prayer
by Dan Rabinowitz

Recently there has been a renewal in interest in the structure and make up of the liturgy or siddur. While there have previously been critical editions of the siddur or articles on topics related to the siddur,[1] today’s renaissance of the siddur has been precipitated by a different series of events. Specifically, this has been fostered by the publication and republication of some important source material on the topic; these include, among others R. Shabbetai Sofer of Przmysl’s Siddur Rav Shabbetai Sofer and R. Jacob Emden’s Luach Eresh.[2] The Siddur Rav Shabbetai is key in the development of the siddur, in so far that this edition was considered by many to be considered the edition par excellence of the siddur.[3]

While there has been a flurry of source material, at the same time there has been movement in the opposite direction – a movement which tends to ignore this rich legacy and instead has decided issues of the siddur not based upon critical investigation but rather on reliance on sources that my not be trustworthy. The results have been less than salutary.

One example of both of these trends – the new evidence as well as a seemingly blindness to this evidence – can be found regarding the punctuation of the kaddish prayer.

The Early Evidence Regarding Kaddish

There is a dispute how to punctuate the first two words in kaddish – yisgadel v’yiskadesh (as well as other words in the kaddish, as will become apparent). The controversy is whether they have a patach or a tzeirei under the letter dalet.

The historical evidence is absolute – all the early siddurim punctuate these words with a patach.[4] For example, starting from the 1475 (?) Selichot,[5] the 1486, Soncino Machzor,[6] 1519, Prague Teffilot m’Kol HaShana,[7] 1536, Ausberg Machzor k’seder HaAshkenazim, [8] 1541 Bolonga Machzor k’fei Minhagi k’k Roma, [9] and the 1616 Hanau Seder Teffilot k’Minhag Ashkenaz u’Polin [10] all punctuate the first two words of the kaddish with a patach.[11]

The first to raise and discuss the issue of the punctuation was R. Shabbetai Sofer.[12] In his monumental introduction he discusses the proper pronunciation of the kaddish.[13] He cites the two possibilities mentioned above – a patach or a tzeirei. He explains that the evidence from the Bible seems to point to both. Specifically, he points to contradictory verses in the Book of Daniel. One verse has the word yisgadal with a tzeirei while the other has it with a komatz. R. Sofer explains that the latter must have been punctuated with a patach. The reason is this word appears at the end of the verse. When words appear at a stopping point with a komatz, their regular form can only be with either a segol or a patach. In this case it would be a patach. Thus, we have two verses which seem to lend credence to both readings.

R. Sofer, continues and explains that although one may argue that since the verse has the word yisgadal with a tzeirei that would be the more correct pronunciation, this is not the case. He rejects this due to other grammatical considerations. R. Sofer explains that at least one word in the kaddish passage must be punctuated with a patach and thus, “to keep the words the same (l’zaveg et ha’melot) all should be punctuated with a patach.”[14]

Thus, R. Sofer was the first to entertain the notion the word should be punctuated with a tzeirei and he rejected this reading. Additionally, based upon the proof texts R. Sofer marshals from numerous biblical verses, it is clear that he made no distinction between whether the words are Hebrew or Aramaic. In fact, it seems R. Sofer was treating the bulk of kaddish as Hebrew. He discusses other words in kaddish and their counterparts in the Bible.[15]

Perhaps, aside from the grammatical considerations, R. Sofer also wanted to justify the long standing practice regarding the pronunciation. If this is the case, he does not mention precedent. But, one can not rule this out as a possible subconscious motive.[16]

The First Change to Kaddish

For the first to actually advocate for the alteration of the pronunciation to a tzeirei, we need to wait until the early 18th century.[17] In the early 18th century, R. Shlomo Zalman Hanau (Katz) published a work on Hebrew grammar entitled, Binyan Shlomo.[18] He published this at the relatively young age of 21.[19] In this work he advanced that the correct pronunciation of the kaddish is with a tzeirei.[20] But, it is not only the first two words. Instead, based upon the rules of grammar all similarly constructed words in kaddish should also have a tzeirei. Thus, yisbrach, yispaer, and v’yisromam all have a tzeirei.[21]

While at first R. Hanau only wrote a grammar work, he eventually incorporated his alterations into both his work on the siddur – Sha’ari Teffilah[22] – as well as his edition of the siddur – Bet Teffilah.[23] In this instance, this alteration to the kaddish only appears in his siddur.[24] In his siddur, he punctuates the kaddish with a tzeirei throughout.[25] Thus, he has a tzeirei for yisbrach, yispaer, and v’yisromam in the kaddish. Additionally, he is thoroughly consistent in his siddur, any other instance of either the same formulation or the same word, R. Hanau always uses the tzeirei. For example, the same opening words of kaddish appear in the prayer after the removal of the Torah. There R. Hanau has a tzeirei for ‘al ha-kol yisgadel v’yiskadesh.[26] In the Shemoneh Esreh where a similar formulation appears – v’al kulam yisbrach v’yisromam again R. Hanau has a tzeirei.[27] As we shall see, most who followed him were not nearly as careful in their punctuation even when they adopted R. Hanau’s understanding of the kaddish punctuation.

Before we leave R. Hanau, we must first understand how his contemporaries viewed his alterations. When he published his Binyan Shlomo aside from the change in kaddish he also took issue with many of his predecessors understanding of Hebrew grammar. It seems that he did so in a less than respectful fashion. In light of this, he was threatened with a ban on his book unless he would print a retraction of his harsh comments. Needless to say, R. Hanau complied. At the end of his Binyan Shlomo he inserted a page (somewhat smaller than the rest of the book) asking forgiveness from those he may have offended.[28]

Not only was his Binyan Shlomo controversial, but his works on the siddur were as well. R. Jacob Emden’s Luach Eresh is a rebuttal of many of R. Hanau’s changes.[29] R. Emden whose was well known for his acerbic remarks spared none for R. Hanau. He accused Hanua of even forging an approbation Hanau received from R. Emden’s father- R. Tzvi Ashkenazi (Hakham Tzvi).[30]

Thus, it seems far from clear whether R. Hanau’s alteration regarding kaddish would in fact be accepted.[31] In fact, based upon his reputation and the historical precedent this alteration would not be accepted. But, due to two unrelated events, his change has gained more and more credence as time has passed.

The Siddurim Which Followed R. Hanau

While R. Hanau was a singular individual whose own edition of the siddur was printed once, he still had a tremendous impact on the development of the siddur. His influence was felt through the inclusion of some of his changes in two important editions of the siddur. The first is Wolf Heidenheim’s and the second is Seligmann Baer. Both of these siddurim included many[32] of Hanau’s changes.[33]

But, for this change to kaddish these siddurim which did not have qualms about incorporating other changes did not for this. Instead, the prevalence of this change is due to two entirely different events. In fact, Seligmann Baer in another of his works, defends the use of the patach.[34]

The Two Events Which Precipitated the Inclusion of R. Hanau’s Change

The first event[35] which promoted R. Hanau’s alteration was the inclusion of it in R. Yosef Teomim’s Peri Megadim. In his comments on the kaddish, R. Teomim includes R. Hanau’s alteration of a patach to a tzeirei.[36]

While at first glance this may appear strange, incorporating a change of questionable accuracy from a questionable source, a closer look at both R. Teomim’s life as well as his own comments, clarifies why he did so. Originally of Eastern European stock, R. Teomim spent two years in Berlin. During this time he studied in the Beit Medrash of Daniel Yaffo. At the time, this Beit Medrash was populated by the leading maskilim of Berlin. It seems that R. Teomim studied with them and may have been exposed to some of the literature. At the very least, R. Teomim appears to have studied one on one with R. Yitzhak Satnow, a leading maskil and a propend of numerous alterations to the siddur.[37]

R. Teomim absorbed the some of the general ideas which were flourishing in Berlin at the time. R. Teomim advocates for a sweeping reform of the education system. He advocates for a more structured system which includes an emphasis on Bible and proper Hebrew.[38] This is reminiscent of some of the later changes advocated by R. Naftali Hertz Wessley another of the leading Berlin maskilim. It is one of these suggestions which returns us to R. Hanau.

R. Teomim provides a list of books he recommends one teach their child. One of these is one of the works of R. Hanau. Specifically, R. Teomim lists R. Hanau’s work on grammar, Tzohar L’Tevah,[39] as one of these texts.[40] Therefore, far from rejecting the innovations of R. Hanau, R. Teomim embraced him and his works. Thus, his citation to R. Hanau in the kaddish is not an anomaly but instead perfectly in line with R. Teomim’s general view of R. Hanau and these sorts of innovations.

While R. Teomim’s citation to Hanau should not be viewed as an anomaly, a later citation should be. R. Yisrael Meir Ha-Kohen (Kagan), otherwise known as the Hafetz Hayyim, in his Mishneh Berurah discusses the proper pronunciation of the kaddish. In doing so, he cites the comments of R. Teomim that the words yisgadel v’yiskadish should be pronounced with a tzeirei.[41] The Hafetz Hayyim did not display the same view towards the haskalah or to innovation as R. Teomim did. Thus, his comment which, when properly traced to its source, should be viewed as nothing less than shocking. One can not say, as was the case with R. Teomim, that the Hafetz Hayyim agreed with or advocated for any of the books or application of R. Hanau. One imagines had the Hafetz Hayyim been aware of the true nature of this comment, he would not have followed it.[42]

Furthermore, one assumes that had the Hafetz Hayyim known of the clear and unambiguous tradition regarding the pronunciation of the kaddish he would not have offered this alternative reading. But, rather ironically, due to the import and the popularity the Hafetz Hayyim’s Mishneh Berurah enjoys today, R. Hanau’s alternation has become the norm in some circles.

We have now discussed the first strange use of R. Hanau’s position on the kaddish. The second to advocate for this pronunciation was allegedly the Vilna Gaon or the Gra. In the posthumous collection of his customs, Ma’aseh Rav, the Gra is recorded as saying the first two words of kaddish with a tzeirei. The rational offered is that these words are in Hebrew as opposed to the rest of kaddish which is in Aramaic.

As an initial matter, it bears mentioning, that although today many have blindly accepted anything mentioned in this collection of customs, Ma’aseh Rav, as in fact the practice of the Gra, this is far from a certainty. When this book was first printed R. Hayyim of Volozhin, in his approbation,[43] already noted at least two possible errors. It is unclear whether the two he mentions explicitly are the only ones or there are others as well.[44]

Putting aside, however, the problems with the Ma’aseh Rav generally, in this specific instance it is far from clear the comment attributed to the Gra is actually correct. According to the Masseh Rav the rational for the change in the punctuation is the classification of the words as Hebrew and not Aramaic. Yet, we have seen already that R. Sofer makes no such distinction. In fact, he assumes they are in fact Hebrew, but still one should pronounce them with a patach. Thus, the fact that these words may or may not be Hebrew is a distinction without difference. It does not immediately follow that once one has decided the words are Hebrew they must be pronounced using a tzeirei.

The Strange Repercussions of the Alteration of the First Two Words of the Kaddish Elsewhere in the Siddur.

Even assuming the custom as recorded in Masseh Rav is correct, the change in punctuation of those two words raises additional problems. As mentioned before there are other words which are either similar to the grammatical structure of the first two words in kaddish and in at least one case in the siddur the very same words appear – all of which are in Hebrew. Thus, these words should get the same treatment as the kaddish words, i.e. be punctuated with a tzeirei. But, in siddurim which claim to follow either the position of the Gra[45] or that of the Chofetz Hayyim, only the kaddish has been altered and the rest retain a patach.

As here has been a renewed interest in the Gra and his customs and those who follow him, there is no lack of siddurim which this point has been borne out. In the first siddur based upon the Gra – Ishe Yisrael – kaddish (the first two words) get a tzeirei while the other instances throughout the siddur all get a patach. In the more recent Siddur Vilna although the change appears in kaddish in the Shemoneh Esreh where the similar formulation appears there is no change.[46] The Siddur Aliyot Eliyahu which was “edited and reset from anew . . . with great care . . . based upon the text of . . . the Gra” changes the first two words of kaddish. Yet, when it comes to both the Shemoneh Esreh and the very same words – yisgadel v’yiskadesh after the removal of the Torah – it employs a patach.[47]

In the recently printed Yom Kippur Machzor which includes the commentary and customs of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik the same result occurs. This Machzor which also includes a list of R. Soloveitchik’s relevant customs, includes that of R. Soloveitchik’s views on kaddish. One these customs “based on the tradition of the Vilna Gaon that the opening two words of Kaddish” should be pronounced with a tzeirei. This is so because those “two words are Hebrew words . . . and the proper Hebrew pronunciation of each of those words is with a tzeirei.”[48] The editors are not satisfied with the mention of this custom at the beginning of the book, instead, each and every time kaddish appears they make mention of this custom. While they are punctiliousness regarding kaddish they make no mention by either the shemoneh esreh nor by the very same words after the Torah is removed.[49]

To be fair at least one siddur which is based upon the Gra has been partially[50] consistent. In the Siddur Ezor Elyiahu, when the actual words yisgadal v’yiskadah appear during the removal of the Torah, the editor changes those as well to a tzeirei. He notes explicitly that this change is an extension of the Gra’s custom regarding the kaddish.[51]

The problem of altering the kaddish text but retaining the other examples in the siddur was already noted in the late 18th century! R. Isaac Satanow in decries the “haughty simpletons (am aratzim)” who change the kaddish to a tzeirei but fail to note the others. These who “speak in contradictions,” Satanow applies the verse in Proverbs (18:2) “a fool does not delight in understanding.”[52] The expression “better leave well enough alone” is extremely apt.[53]

In conclusion, it would seem that perhaps what may be viewed as a minor change has much broader implications. These implications include the propriety of the change itself as well as the consequences of the change. It seems that many were unaware of these outcomes and both made the change without full awareness of the history. Further, they were also oblivious to the necessity to alter other portions of the text as well. As one scholar has put it “the critical study of Jewish liturgy is in any case too important to be left exclusively to the ‘daveners’!”[54] In the end, unfortunately, these words have proven to be extremely prescient.

Notes:
[1] For critical edition of the siddur see, e.g., Seligmann Baer, Avodat Yisrael (Rödelheim, 1868); Wolf Heidenheim’s series on siddurim and machzorim published in the 19th century; Machzor l’Yamin Noraim, ed. Daniel Goldschmit (Jerusalem, 1970); Shlomo Tal, Rinat Yisrael (Jerusalem, 1972).
There has also been a significant amount written on the siddur, both its development as well as the text itself. See, e.g., Leopold Zunz, Die Ritus des Synagogalen Gottesdienstes (Berlin, 1859); Abraham Berliner, Ketavim Nivcharim (Jerusalem, 1969); Ismar Elbogen, Jewish Liturgy: A Comprehensive History (Philadelphia, 1993), trans. of the original 1913 German edition; B.S. Jacobson, Netiv Binah (Tel Aviv, 1964); Daniel Goldschmidt, Mehqerei Tefillah u’Piyyut (Jerusalem, 1978); Naftali Wieder, Hitgabshut Nusach HaTefillah ba-Mizrach uva-Ma’ariv (Jerusalem, 1998); Stefan Reif, Judaism and Hebrew Prayer: New Perspectives on Jewish Liturgical History (Cambridge, 1995).
[2] D. Yitzhaki ed., Luach Eresh, Otzoranu (Toronto, 2001). This edition includes other works related to R. Emden’s work as well. While both of these speak to the Ashkenaz Rite (more correctly the Ashkenaz-Polish Rite) there has also been a renewed interest in the Nusach Sefard Rite (the Hassidic not to be confused with those who originated in the Eastern countries) as well. Some of these early prayer books have been republished including Y. Koppel, Kol Ya’akov (Jerusalem, 2005-2006); Siddur Admor HaZakan, Kehot (Brooklyn, 2005). There has also been a critical edition of the Siddur haAriZal published as well, Siddur ha-Ari, ed. Daniel Rimmer (Betar, 2004).
[3] On the import of this edition see S. Reif, Shabbetai Sofer and his Prayer-book (Cambridge University Press, 1979); Siddur Rav Shabbetai Sofer, ed. Yitzhak Satz, vol. 1 (Baltimore, 1987): 7-10 (all citations to the Siddur R. Shabbetai are to this edition).
[4] There is one exception – the Lisbon 1490 (?) Teffilot m’Kol HaShana. In this edition these two words have a komatz. This appears to be in error. This error is based upon the use of the verse in Daniel 11 which has the word yisgadal with a komatz. But, the only reason for the komatz there is due to its placement in that verse, at the end. Shabbetai Sofer records that this error continued to his day. He says “one should not pronounce the word with a komatz like I heard one incorrect hazzan do, perhaps [this hazzan] did so due to the verse in Daniel, but the hazzan was unaware that the reason it was punctuated with a komatz was because it was at the end of the verse.” Siddur R. Shabbetai Sofer, vol. 1, no. 17, p. 83.
[5] Non-paginated, appearing on the Hebrew University copy (which I have used for the other citations and all are available online) at page 10 (all page citations are to the “page” the relevant quote appears in the online version).
[6] Non-paginated Hebrew University copy at page 10. Only the second word – v’yisgadash is punctuated (with a patach) in this edition. Yet, there is no reason to assume the first word would be punctuated in a different manner.
[7] Non-paginated Hebrew University copy at page 196.
[8] Non-paginated Hebrew University copy at page 2.
[9] Non-paginated Hebrew University copy at page 13.
[10] Non-paginated Hebrew University copy at page 55.
[11] Additionally the following twenty-four machzorim or siddurim use the patach: 1490 Napoli, Seder Teffilot; 1503 Fano, Machzor; 1526, Venice Machzor k’Minhag Roma; 1527, Venice, Machzor k’Minhag Aram Soba, 1527 Prague; 1527 Pissarro; 1528 Constantinople, Seder k’Nusach Romania, 1530 Prague; 1532 Constantinople, Machzor l’Rosh HaShana v’Yom Kippur k’Minhag Sefardim; 1551 Lublin; 1562 Mantua, Teffilot m’Kol HaShana; 1566 Lublin; 1567 Lublin; 1584 Venice Machzor; 1585 Cracow Machzor l’Sholosh Regalim; 1598 Venice, Machzor; 1601, Venice, Seder Teffilot k’Minhag K’K Sefard; 1608, Hanau, Machzor l’Sholosh Regalim; 1623, Hanau; 1647, Amsterdam, Teffilot; 1661, Amsterdam, Seder Teffilot Sefardim; 1699/1700, Venice, Machzor Hadrat Kodesh; 1713, Berlin, Teffilah Derekh Si’ah ha-Sadeh; 1727, Amsterdam, Siddur HaShelah. As is apparent, the use of the patach is not dependent upon custom – sefard versus ashkenaz – or geographic location.
[12] R. Sofer lived from c. 1565-1637. His death date reflects the find in the Jewish Theological Seminary library of a manuscript of R. Sofer’s defense of R. David Kimhi’s Sefer HaShorashim which R. Sofer notes was completed in 1637. Reif, in his work on R. Sofer had dated R. Sofer’s death as 1635. R. Sofer’s siddur was first published in 1617 in Prague although nothing remains of this edition. The current edition was published from a manuscript.
[13] Siddur R. Shabbetai Sofer, vol. 1, no. 17, p. 83.
[14] Idem.
[15] See Rief, op. cit., at p. 29-38 discussing considerations in punctuating the siddur.
[16] R. Sofer’s student, R. Hayim Bokhner also defends the use of a patach even though he also considers the first two words of kaddish to be in Hebrew. See R. Hayim Bokhner, Or Hadash (Amsterdam, 1671): 46b. Specifically, R. Bokhner cites to the verse in Psalms 104:1 as a similar conjugation which contains a patach. On R. Bokhner see Yitzhak Yudolov, “HaGa’on Rebi Hayim Bukhner Z’tl Mehaber Sefer Or Hadash,” in Birkat HaMazon l’Mh”r Shabbetai Sofer (2002): 274-276.
[17] This was noted by Hayim A. Cohen, “Yitgadal v’Yitkadash (Iyun b’Zemichat shel Mesorot HeGiyah Hadasha),” Mesorot 8 (1994): 59-69. While Cohen’s article contains some of the history of this change, he neglects some of the historical evidence and does not note what perverse consequences the changes have had on modern-day siddurim.
[18] Binyan Shlomo (Frankfort a. Main, 1708).
[19] He was born in 1687.
[20] Binyan Shlomo (Frankfort a. Main, 1708): 79b-80a. Hanau does not deal with R. Sofer. The reason for this omission is that in all likelihood he was unaware of R. Sofer’s comments. Instead, R. Hanau address the comments of R. Yitzhak b. Shmuel of Posen in his Siach Yitzhak. There, R. Yitzhak makes the claim the words in kaddish should be punctuated with a patach.
[21] See id.
[22] First published (Jessnitz, 1725).
[23] Also published in Jessnitz that same year.
[24] This is contrary to the incorrect assertion in the Makhon Yerushalayim edition of the Shulhan Arukh. They erroneously claim this comment appears in his Sha’ari Teffilah. This appears no where in the Sha’ari Teffilah. Instead, it seems the editor of this edition was unaware of R. Hanau’s siddur and thus was forced to locate any place they could attach as a source for R. Hanau.
[25] Bet Teffilah p. 29a.
[26] Idem., p. 40a.
[27] Idem.,at 21b.
[28] See non-paginated page which follows page 108 in his Binyan Shlomo.
[29] See David Yitzhaki’s Introduction to the Luach Eresh p. 26-66. While Yitzhaki is incorrect in some of his assertions – he is correct in that Hanau’s changes were viewed with distain by some. For more on this issue, see Jacob J. Schacter, Rabbi Jacob Emden: Life and Major Works (unpublished PhD dissertation, Harvard University, 1988), chapter four, passim.
[30] This was later proved to be incorrect. The actual approbation was located and it appears that in fact R. Hanau did receive it. See Dukkes, Hakmei AH”V (1908): 55. This source appears to have escaped the notice of Jacob J. Schacter; see his introduction to the new edition of Luach Eresh (24), where he credits Yekutiel Yehudah Greenwald’s 1954 biography with this find. Additionally, see Jordan Penkower, “Minhag and Massorah: On the Recent Ashkenazic Custom of Double Vocalization of Zekher Amalek,” in Iyuni Mikra U’Parshanut 4 (1997): 127-128 [Hebrew], where he provides other examples of R. Emden’s over zealousness and questionable tactics in this debate. Yitzhaki, supra n. 29, appears to either have been unaware of Penkower’s article or chose to ignore it. Many of Penkower’s findings contradict Yitzhaki’s assertions.
[31] Prior to the discussion below, there is but one siddur which incorportates R. Hanau’s change. In the Altona 1826 edition of the Machzor edited by R. Meir Ganz, he changes kaddish as well as the other permutations to a tzeirei. R. Ganz in his introduction says he was careful with the grammar of the Machzor, however, he does not provide a source for this or any of his alterations.
[32] These include, inter alia, the change in the yehi ratzon following birkat ha-sachar from yashlet to tashlet.
[33] These siddurim also included some of the changes of R. Isaac Satanow, who will be discussed in more detail below. The inclusion of these changes has disturbed some. This is so, as these siddurim were considered the “gold standard” and the lack of deference towards precedent many found difficult to reconcile. Additionally, Heidenheim’s edition received the blessing of one of the great opponents toward change, R. Moshe Sofer (Hatam Sofer). In the Haredi press there has been some discussion on how to reconcile these seemingly incongruous events.
[34] See Seligmann Baer, Tosa’ot Hayyim, reprinted in R. Jacob Emden, Luach Eresh (2001), Kitzerat haOmer, pp. 497-500.
[35] It is noteworthy that Heidenhiem did not include this change in any of his editions of the siddur. While Heidenhiem did include other such alterations this one was apparently went too far.
[36] Misbetsot Zahav, no. 55. Although it is unclear why, R. Teomim only applies R. Hanau’s proposition for the first two words in the kaddish and not the complete kaddish as R. Hanau actually has it.
[37] See Satnow’s comments in his edition of the Kuzari (Berlin, 1795) p. 2, where he claims to have studied with R. Teomim. Additionally, many of Satanow’s books contain approbations from R. Teomim. While some of these are undoubtedly forgeries, there is no reason to assume they all are. On Satnow see Zinberg, A History of Jewish Literature vol. 5, chap. 7, p.112 et. seq.; Fuenn, Kennest Yisrael, Vilna 1886, s.v. Yitzhak Satanow. For biographical information on R. Teomim see R. Tzvi Yehezkel Michelson, Toledot Yosef, in R. Teomim’s Sefer Notrikin (Bilguria, 1910 [Jerusalem, 1964; photomechanical reproduction]), non-paginated introduction.
[38] See his introduction to his commentary on the Shulhan Arukh especially Iggeret Shnei no. 6. R. Teomim provides to lists of recommended reading/teaching materials in his letters. The recommendation for R. Hanau’s book only appears in the second listing.
[39] First printed (Berlin, 1733). It seems the famed town of Volozhin had as their single book of Hebrew grammar present in the Beit Medrash, this work of R. Hanau. See Gershon David Hundert, “The Library of the Study Hall in Volozhin, 1762: Some Notes on the Basis of a Newly Discovered Manuscript,” Jewish History 14 (2000): 237.
[40] Id.
[41] See Mishna Berurah, 56:2; Sha’ar haTzion, id.
[42] It is unclear whether R. Teomim would have either followed this in practice. The siddur Hegyon Lev, ed. Eliezer Landshuth (Königsberg, 1845) which is based upon the comments of R. Teomim, does not alter the punctuation of the kaddish. While it is possible that Landshuth was either unaware or ignored the comments of R. Teomim, it is at least worthwhile to point out this incongruence.
[43] Perhaps it was to avoid his criticism that his approbation was removed from the 1857 and the 1858 editions. See Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Books of the Vilna Gaon (Jerusalem, 2003), #812, 814 (while Vinograd notes the missing approbation in the 1857 edition he neglects to mention it was missing in the 1858 edition as well).
[44] See Penkower, op. cit., at 85-87 discussing problems with the Ma’aseh Rav.
[45] The Gra never wrote or published his own edition of the siddur. Instead, the siddurim which purport to be that of the Gra are only attempting to reconstruct what they view what the Gra would have done had he in fact edited a siddur.
[46] Siddur Vilna (Jerusalem, 1994): 55 (kaddish), 107 (Shemoneh Esreh passage).
[47] Siddur Aliyot Eliyahu (Jerusalem, 1999): 45 (kaddish where the editor notes his change is based upon the Chofetz Hayyim and the Gra), p. 79 (shemoneh esreh), p. 297 (yisgadel v’yiskadesh with a patach).
[48] Yom Kippur Machzor with Commentary Adapted from the Teachings of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, (New York, 2006): xxxv. The formulation of this custom is in and of itself problematic. One assumes that R. Soloveitchik did not alter kaddish due to the Maaseh Rav, but instead he followed the custom of his own father and grandfather.
[49] See, e.g., p. 18 (shemoneh esreh) and p. 464 (v’al ha’kol yisgadal v’yiskadah with a patach).
[50] There is no change to the Shemoneh Esereh or the other words in kaddish which contain the same grammatical structure.
[51] Ezor Eliyahu ‘al pe Nusach HaGra (Jerusalem, 1998): 216. Additionally, it bears noting that ArtScroll retains the correct punctuation utilizing a patach for kaddish.
[52] Isaac Satanow, Iggeret l’Bet Teffilah (Berlin, 1769): 21a,b. Satanow himself in his later work, Va’Yetar Yitshak (Vienna, 1815): 47- 48, advocates change to a tzeirei of the kaddish. He claims, contrary to R. Sofer, that there are three verses which illuminate this question of punctuation. While one, Daniel 11:36 points to the patach the other two, Daniel 11:37 and Isaiah 10:15 point to a tzeirei and therefore “two defeat one.” Id. Satanow, however, is consistent and changes the other formulations as well. See id. at 44 on tisromam.
[53] What is rather ironic is that the Siddur Aliyot Eliyah, contains a diatribe against Satanow and his alterations. It would seem that the same criticism could be applied to the itself.
[55] Reif, Judaism and Hebrew Prayer, op. cit. at 10.




Notes on the Book of Samuel, and the Eternal Sanctity of the Temple in Maimonidean Thought

Notes on the Book of Samuel, and the Eternal Sanctity of the Temple in Maimonidean Thought

By Rabbi Avi Grossman

avrahambenyehuda.wordpress.com

Rabbi Label Dulitz, who passed away last week, was an iconic figure at YUHSB. I was privileged to first meet him when I began my studies at the school in the fall of 1996. That year, Rabbi Dulitz was teaching Talmud to part of the tenth grade, but some of us lucky freshmen got to sit in his afternoon Navi class. His photographic memory of the Bible, Talmud, and Shakespeare has already been recounted by many; what struck me more about the man who sought to mold men was his persistence, his insistence that all of his students put every ounce of their efforts into their studies. For years, I found myself more comfortable in the library than in the beis midrash, not because I was not interested in Torah study, but rather because of the atmosphere. In this, I found a model in Rabbi Dulitz, who made the third-floor gallery of our high-school library his personal study and let me spend as much time as I wanted at his table, even when I was cutting other classes. (I am also indebted to the long-time librarian, Mr. Wexler, for his support and dedication.) 

That year, Rabbi Dulitz did not teach us about the Book of Samuel; he drilled it into our minds as though using a thumbscrew (his word), and when we did not do well enough on our exams, he would wail like Achish, “do I lack crazies?”  When I was fifteen years old, I had questions about Samuel, but it took almost 25 years for me to even begin to articulate them. I regret that I had not sought the opportunity to thank Rabbi Dulitz before he was gone, but I pray that this serves as a fitting monument to him.

This is the story of an interesting argument over the interpretation of historical matters incidentally described in halachic works. For a few years, I made a number of assumptions regarding Maimonides’s views in this regard but recently those assumptions were challenged. 

A note on terminology: I will follow Maimonides’s precedent in this regard. That which the Israelites built in the wilderness and then established in a number of places within Israel is referred to as the mishkan, which is invariably rendered as Tabernacle, or as ohel mo’ed, Tent of Meeting, while the Temple is the translation of habayith, or some other construction, like beith adonay, and the word miqdash, Sanctuary, is the term that includes both Temple and Tabernacle alike, and which Maimonides uses to halachically define and equate all of the historical Sanctuaries:

מצות עשה לעשות בית לה’, מוכן להיות מקריבים בו הקרבנות, וחוגגין אליו שלוש פעמים בשנה–שנאמר “ועשו לי, מקדש” (שמות כה,ח); וכבר נתפרש בתורה משכן שעשה משה רבנו, והיה לפי שעה–שנאמר “כי לא באתם, עד עתה . . .” (דברים יב,ט)

 ואלו הן הדברים שהן עיקר בבניין הבית:  עושין בו קודש, וקודש הקודשים, ויהיה לפני הקודש מקום אחד והוא הנקרא אולם; ושלושתן נקראין היכל.  ועושין מחיצה אחרת סביב להיכל, רחוקה ממנו כעין קלעי החצר שהיו במדבר; וכל המוקף במחיצה זו שהוא כעין חצר אוהל מועד, הוא הנקרא עזרה. והכל נקרא מקדש

כיון שנכנסו לארץ, העמידו המשכן בגלגל ארבע עשרה שנה שכבשו ושחלקו.  ומשם באו לשילה, ובנו שם בית של אבנים; ופרסו יריעות המשכן עליו, ולא הייתה שם תקרה.  ושלוש מאות ותשע וששים שנה, עמד מקדש שילה. וכשמת עלי, חרב ובאו לנוב ובנו שם מקדש, וכשמת שמואל חרב ובאו לגבעון ובנו שם מקדש. ומגבעון באו לבית העולמים וימי נוב וגבעון, שבע וחמישים שנה

However, in many instances, the Bible uses all four and even some others as poetic synonyms. For the sake of clarity, I shall not.  

For some years now, I have  wondered about three things: Why is the destruction of the Tabernacle at Shiloh, although alluded to in the Book of Samuel and explicitly described in the Psalms and Jeremiah and the Mishna, not explicitly mentioned in Samuel? On the other hand, why does the Torah devote so much detail to the materials and construction of the Tabernacle, and why do the prophets give so much detail concerning the materials and construction of the First Temple, and then so much detail and reiteration when describing the First Temple’s destruction? Lastly, although we have no clear Talmudic or Mishnaic source for this claim, why is it that many commentators echo the claim of the Or Hahayim, that had the Temple been built by Moses, it never would have been destroyed? How did the Or Hahayim know that?

This website analyzes a number of topics which we have studied in the past, and its author, a prominent faculty member at Merkaz Harav with whom I have corresponded on this matter, offers an explanation that does not satisfy me because part of its basis is the assumption that the Tabernacle as it stood in Nov and Gibeon was not considered a full, halachic Sanctuary, whereas I feel it is clear from both the Yerushalmi and Maimonides’s commentary on the Mishna that the Tabernacles at Nov and Gibeon, despite the fact that they never housed the Ark of the Covenant, were as much complete sanctuaries as those at Shiloh and Jerusalem. While I  agree with his assertion that the main tragedy of Shiloh was the Ark of the Covenant’s falling into enemy hands, the idea that the rest of the Sanctuary’s destruction was insignificant because the Ark was already removed does not satisfy me, because by that logic, according to the major opinions that the Ark had been removed from the Temple decades before the Temple’s destruction, the Temple’s destruction would have also not been so tragic. Similarly, the Second Temple, which never housed the Ark, would also not have had a remarkably tragic destruction. These ideas are untenable.

Instead, I answered that the Torah dedicates so much detail to the construction of the Sanctuaries because they were the physical manifestations of Israel’s dedication to God’s service. The contributions of gold and silver transcended their physical value. They were the pride and joy of our people. The tragedy of the destruction of the First Temple was that due to our sins, the neglect of God’s law, the great riches that had been dedicated to the Temple fell into the hands of the heathens for their own profane use. This is a theme addressed by the prophets and sages, and part of the consolation of Zion that led to the building of the Second Temple was that they were returned. However, as history attests, the only component of the Mosaic Tabernacle that ever fell into enemy hands was the Ark, while the rest of Tabernacle, including its structural components and appointments, was evacuated from Shiloh before the Philistines got there, and eventually made its way to Nov, then Gibeon, and then was brought to be put into g’niza, permanent storage, under the Temple in Jerusalem. The Philistines merely demolished the stone walls that held up the impermanent, tent-like roof of the Shiloh Sanctuary and its stone altar, but the original altars of wood, bronze, and gold, for the burnt offerings and the incense, were saved. Thus, major tragedy was averted, although the people learned a harsh lesson. This explains why the prophets did not in any way detail the destruction of Shiloh like they did that of Jerusalem. No spoils were taken. I therefore suggest, as others have done before me, that the fact, mentioned in Sota 9b, that Moses’s major handiwork, the Tabernacle, never fell into enemy hands, is the basis for the idea that the same would have been true for the Temple. 

I recently had the honor of discussing these issues with Rabbi Shendorfi, and in response to his challenges, I collected the various sources within the writings of the Meiri, the Meshech Hochma, and the Hevel Nahalato that point to the absence of the Ark of the Covenant from the Sanctuaries at Nov and Gibeon as the reason, or perhaps the halachic mechanism that allowed, for the hetter bamoth, the permission to offer sacrifice outside of the Sanctuary. The original and complete Hebrew version of my analysis and conclusions is available here,, while an oral explanation thereof can be found in a series of Youtube videos here. God willing, their English counterparts will be made available soon.

The following is a summary of my main original arguments:

Maimonides describes two positive commandments (to offer all sacrifices in the chosen Sanctuary, and to bring all sacrificially designated things outside of Israel to the Sanctuary) and two negative commandments (not to slaughter sacrifices outside the Sanctuary courtyard, and not to burn any sacrifice outside the Sanctuary courtyard) that, as the sages point out in Z’vahim 14:4-10, did not apply when the Sanctuary stood in Nov and Gibeon. This is the state we refer to as hetter bamoth, when anyone could build his own bama, a “high place”, i.e., an altar, for private sacrifice.

The aforementioned commandments were taken very seriously early in our history; Joshua 22 describes how shortly after the Sanctuary was established at Shiloh, the Transjordanian tribes of Israel built a large, purely symbolic altar along the Jordan, and the other tribes were prepared to go to war against them for what was their seeming intention not to follow these commandments, while the book of Kings judges every single king of both Israel and Judah by how well each upheld these commandments. Every king of Israel starting from Jeroboam onward with the exception of Hosea son Elah, the last king of Israel, is faulted for maintaining places of sacrifice other than Jerusalem, while many kings of Judah are criticized for not abolishing the private altars that stood in their realms, and Hezekiah is the described as the greatest, most righteous king because he finally put an end to the practice. (I have always said that the modern political and religious establishment preventing Jews from visiting the site of the Temple, etc., is merely another manifestation of Jeroboam’s main policies, policies he and almost every one of his successors adopted in order to maintain their own grips on power. Thus, until an Israeli Prime Minister once again allows the Jewish People to worship God as per the Torah, they will all have “done evil in the eyes of God.”)

The main question before us is, therefore, on what basis did our ancestors establish altars and offer sacrifice outside of the Sanctuary during the time when it stood in Nov and Gibeon? What was the source or reason for this temporary suspension of a number of Biblical commandments?

The Meiri, noting that since the Ark of the Covenant was never present in the Sanctuaries at Nov and Gibeon, as is clear from the Book of Samuel, writes that its absence was the ostensible halachic allowance for sacrifice on private altars:

 הואיל ולא היה הארון קבוע עם המזבח – הותרו הבמות

Many similar sources can be found in Hevel Nahalato, available here. One of them is the Meshech Hochma, who claims that the Israelites were permitted, in isolated incidents, to offer sacrifice beyond the Shiloh Sanctuary when the Ark was temporarily removed from the Sanctuary. The problem is that this view of the Meshech Hochma, and the views of those who followed him, can not be resolved with Maimonides’s own commentary to the fourteenth chapter of Z’vahim, in which he explicitly writes, as per both Talmudim, that the hetter bamoth of the  Nov/Gibeon era was on the authority of an expository tradition of our sages (Z’vahim 119a):

When they came to Gibeon [and set up the Mishkan there], bamoth were [once again] permitted. How do we know that? — Because our Rabbis taught: “For you have not yet come to the m’nuha, the resting place and the nahala, the inheritance.” ‘The resting place’ alludes to Shiloh, ‘the inheritance’ alludes to Jerusalem. Why does Scripture separate them? [That is, why does scripture mention that there are two destinations?] In order to grant permission between one and the other.

See Maimonides’s complete commentary to Z’vahim 14, in which he also describes how the bamoth that existed before the Tabernacle was at Shiloh, when it was in Gilgal, were allowed by yet another derivation from the relevant verses, and not because the Ark was usually outside of the Tabernacle:

לפי שתלה הכתוב איסור הבמות במחנה והוא שנאמר אשר ישחט שור או כשב או עז במחנה ונתן טעם בזה למען אשר יביאו בני ישראל את זבחיהם וגו’ וזהו איסור הבמות לפי שמיום שפסקו המחנות [תרגום הרי׳׳ק: ״חיסול מחנות״] ונכנסו לארץ ר”ל ארץ כנען והוא הזמן שבאו לגלגל נסתלקה מצות לא תעשה זו ונשאר מותר 

As a matter of fact, according to the non-Maimonidean school, it would actually be quite imprecise for the sages of the Mishna to declare that there was a hetter bamoth during the Gilgal period, or any period for that matter. As a matter of fact, the entire style of the Mishna, to state whether there was a hetter bamoth or issur bamoth when the Sanctuary stood in any place, is pointless according to the Meiri and Meshech Hochma. Instead, the Mishna should have just stated a general rule at the outset that when the Ark was kept in the Tabernacle, the bamoth were prohibited, and when the Ark was taken out of the Tabernacle, the bamoth were permitted. As we will be reminded later on, the fact that the Mishna describes certain periods is exactly as the Talmud concludes: the permissibility of the bamoth depended on the time period, and not on a particular condition that could change during that period. 

One particular passage in Hevel Nahalato is particularly perplexing because he acknowledges Maimonides’s explanation for why the bamoth were permitted during the Gilgal period, but he then writes that the permission during the Nov/Gibeon period was granted because the Ark was absent.

 ישנה הסיבה בזמן נוב וגבעון שארון לא היה במקומו ואז המזבח ירד ממדרגתו להיות במה גדולה. וישנה הסיבה שהיתה בגלגל שבטלה החלוקה למחנות שכינה לויה וישראל ולכן אף המשכן כולו ירד ממדרגתו לדרגת במה גדולה\

This idea, which explicitly contradicts Maimonides’s own words, is echoed in later works, including those on the internet, such as this article by Rabbi Prof. Yoel Elitzur, son of the late Bible scholar Rabbi Yehuda Elitzur, and in it, he brings an answer that I recall hearing was also offered by Rabbi Soloveichik. He begins by citing another relevant passage from Maimonides’s laws (4:1):

When Solomon built the Temple, he was aware that it would ultimately be destroyed. [Therefore,] he constructed a chamber, in which the Ark could be entombed below [the Holy of Holies] in deep, maze-like vaults. King Josiah commanded that [the Ark] be entombed in the chamber built by Solomon, as it is said: “He said to the Levites, consecrated to the Lord, who taught all Israel, ‘Put the Holy Ark in the House that Solomon son of David, king of Israel, built…’” (II Chronicles 35:3).

This is unusual, as Rambam generally does not rule on historical questions in Mishneh Torah, including the interpretation of texts and even halakhic questions that were only relevant in the past (such as the permissibility of the bamoth), unless there is some practical halakhic implication for the present or the future, or if the question touches on a fundamental foundation of faith. In light of this, why did Rambam choose to rule with such certainty in our case, weighing in on what amounts to a Tannaitic historical dispute?

It is likely that the reason behind this ruling can be found in the Talmud Yerushalmi:

Rabbi Yassa said in the name of Rabbi Yohanan: “This is the rule – whenever the Ark is within [the Sanctuary], the bamot are forbidden; when it has left [the Sanctuary], the bamot are permitted.” Rabbi Ze’ira asked Rabbi Yassa: “Even [when the Ark has left the Sanctuary] temporarily, as in the case of Eli?” (Yerushalmi Megilla 1:12)

In the style of the Yerushalmi, Rabbi Ze’ira’s question that was seemingly left unanswered serves as its own conclusion: Indeed, even when the Ark leaves the Sanctuary temporarily, the bamot become permitted. Rabbi Meir Simcha of Dvinsk, in his Meshekh Chokhma commentary on Parashat Re’eh, expanded on this notion, using it to explain the apparent violation of the prohibition on bamot during the Shiloh period. According to him, during the time of the Mishkan in Shiloh, the Ark would be removed regularly from its place to be present at national gatherings elsewhere, and sometimes it would even remain in those other locations for extended periods of time. During those periods when the Ark was absent from the Mishkan in Shiloh, claims the Meshekh Chokhma, the bamot were permitted.

Now we can return to Rambam’s unusual ruling. In a different, well-known statement that is accepted as the normative halakha, Rambam rules that the “first consecration” performed by Solomon in Jerusalem applied “for that time and for eternity” (Hilkhot Beit Ha-bechira 6:14). This ruling has several halakhic implications, both positive – we can offer sacrifices on the Temple site even without the Temple itself; we can eat the “most holy” sacrifices even without the “hangings” of the Courtyard; we can eat sacrifices of lesser sanctity and ma’aser sheni even without the wall surrounding Jerusalem (Mishna Eduyot 8:6; Hilkhot Beit Ha-bechira 6:15) – and negative – the impure may not enter the area of the Courtyard; and bamot are prohibited outside of Jerusalem. In order to reconcile this ruling with the statement of the Yerushalmi, Rambam was forced to rule in accordance with Rabbi Judah son of Lakish – the Ark was hidden in its own place![11] If so, according to Rambam the Ark is still in its original location, waiting for us in the depths of the Holy of Holies, beneath the Foundation Stone in Jerusalem.

I wrote to Prof. Elitzur about how this is not a valid resolution to the question regarding Maimonides’s formulation because it assumes that the exchange between Rabbi Yassa and Rabbi Ze’ira is the bottom-line halacha and the conclusion of that Talmudic discussion, but in reality, the Talmud continues, and brings, at the conclusion of that section cited above, an elaboration of the mishnayoth in Z’vahim we saw above. There, at the conclusion of the first chapter of YT M’gilla, it explains why bamoth were prohibited during the Shilonic period, then permitted in the intervening period, and then permanently prohibited once the Temple was built: it was a d’rasha, an esoteric rule encoded in the unusual language of the prohibition, and it did not condition the hetter bamoth on the Ark’s constant presence in the Sanctuary, and is along the lines of the passage from Z’vahim 119a, above, and in the corresponding section from the Yerushalmi, after quoting the same verse referencing “the resting place” and “the inheritance,” and explaining that the former was Shiloh and the latter was Jerusalem, the consequences are explained:

Thus, while the Tent of Meeting [stood during the sojourn in the wilderness], the bamoth were prohibited. While [it stood] in Gilgal, the bamoth were permitted. While [it stood] in Shiloh, the bamoth were prohibited. While [it stood] in Nov and Gibeon, the bamoth were permitted. While [it stood] in Jerusalem, the bamoth were prohibited. [This can be compared] to a man who told his servant, “do not drink wine from Tiberias, nor from Caesarea, nor from Sephoris,” implying that from areas between those places, he could [drink wine].

And that is how Maimonides explains the Mishnayoth in his uncensored commentary to Z’vahim. This seems necessary, because the exposition of the verse about “the resting place” and “the inheritance” does not seem to teach anything about the Gilgal period, and it must be that the hetter bamoth of that period was due to some other factor. Be that as it may, Maimonides reiterates why there was a hetter bamoth between the Shiloh and Jerusalem eras: Moses, when he related this command, had implied that there would be a period between the two major Sanctuaries when the bamoth would once again be permitted.

It therefore turns out that Rabbi Yassa’s rule, actually a k’lal in the original Hebrew, should more accurately be translated as a “general principle,” less a declaration of halacha, and more of a mnemonic, a correlation that does not imply causation. If you will ask, how are we to remember if high places were permitted during the days of a particular sanctuary, then look for the Ark. The Ark stood in Shiloh, so the high places were then prohibited, but it did not stand in Nov and Gibeon, and therefore high places were permitted in their days. But Rabbi Ze’ira points out that this is too simplistic, because it implies that if the Ark were to have been removed from Shiloh temporarily, then the high places would have been temporarily permitted, or if the Ark were to be removed from the Temple in Jerusalem, it would also result in a hetter bamoth until it would be brought back, which is untenable, and explains why Rabbi Yassa has no rejoinder for Rabbi Ze’ira’s point, because the hetter bamoth, according to the conclusion of this Yerushalmi, and according to the plain meaning of the Bavli in Z’vahim, and according to Maimonides’s commentary, does not depend on the strict and immediate presence of the Ark of the Covenant in the Sanctuary, and that is why the Temple is still the Temple in its state of desolation according to Maimonides, even though the Ark has not been present therein since the late First Temple Period.

I also have a hard time accepting Rabbi Shendorfi’s terminology which implies that when the Ark is absent, the Sanctuary’s altar loses (lit. descends from its level of) sanctity and becomes a “bama g’dola, a great high place.” This term, bama g’dola, is actually greatly misunderstood, as we shall see. We also disagreed regarding the application of the word miqdash to the Tabernacles of Nov and Gibeon; I had written that the interpretation of what Maimonides wrote in the first source cited above meant that the Nov and Gibeon Sanctuaries were מקדשים לכל דבר, “Sanctuaries for all intents and purposes,” and this was also stated by Rabbi Bar Hayim in a series of recent lectures posted to Youtube, but Rabbi Shendorfi argued that Nov and Gibeon were not ״,מקדשים לכל דבר״ that they were somehow inferior or of lesser status, and the prophets never referred to Nov and Gibeon the way they referred to Shiloh and Jerusalem, and challenged me to prove my assertion. I think Maimonides’s opening ruling/definition is sufficient, and my challenge was instead to answer why the destruction of Shiloh became an afterthought, and why the subsequent Sanctuaries were not described with reverence.

I Kings 9:2-5, I Chronicles 22:1, and Psalms 132:14, and other relevant verses, as well as Laws of the Chosen Temple 1:3 and 6:13-16 show beyond any doubt that according to Maimonides, there is no indication that the sanctity of the Temple and the eternal prohibition against bamoth that were initiated with the Temple’s inauguration had anything to do with the absence or presence of the Ark in the Temple. Rather, they were made known to us expressly by the prophets and the Mosaic tradition.

Not only that, in those latter laws, Maimonides actually explains the nature of the Temple’s eternal sanctity and its halachic ramifications, and how their unconditional nature stands in stark contrast to the sanctity of the land of Israel, which is conditional, and therefore subject to nullification:

How was [the Second Temple] consecrated? With the first consecration initiated by Solomon, for he consecrated the Temple Courtyard and Jerusalem for that time and for eternity. Therefore, we may offer all the sacrifices [at the Temple], even though the Temple itself is not built. Similarly, the most holy sacrifices can be eaten in the entire [area of the] Courtyard, even though it is in ruin and not surrounded by a formal wall. We may also eat less holy sacrifices and the second tithe throughout Jerusalem, even though it is not [presently] surrounded by a wall, for through its original consecration, it was consecrated for that time and for eternity.

Why do I say that the original consecration sanctified the Temple and Jerusalem for eternity, while with regard to the consecration of the remainder of the Land of Israel, specifically regarding whether the Sabbatical year, tithes, and other related [agricultural] laws are in force, [the original consecration] did not sanctify it for eternity? Because the sanctity of the Temple and Jerusalem stems from the Divine Presence, and the Divine Presence can never be nullified. Thus, Leviticus 26:31 states: “I will lay waste to your sanctuaries.” The Sages declared: “Even though they have been devastated, their sanctity remains.”

In contrast, the [original] obligation to keep the laws of the Sabbatical year and tithes on the Land stemmed from the fact that it was conquered by the [Jewish people as a united] community. Therefore, when the land was taken from their hands [by the Babylonians,] their [original] conquest was nullified. Thus, according to Torah law, the land was freed from the obligations of the Sabbatical year and tithes because it was no longer “Land of Israel.”

That is, according to Maimonides, the sanctity of something is whether or not the relevant commandments and laws apply to it. An Aaronite priest is holy because specific commandments apply to him beyond those that apply to an ordinary Jew, whereas a halal, the offspring of a priest and a woman not fit for him, is desecrated, and the commandments and laws of the priesthood do not not apply to him. The land of Israel was promised to the Patriarchs and is eternally in the possession of the Jewish people, but its sanctity only exists under certain conditions, and it is only under those conditions that the laws and commandments actually apply therein. The idea of sanctity is a fundamental tenet of halacha, and applies in various forms to inanimate objects, vegetation, animals, people, places, and even time periods.

Most importantly, Maimonides writes explicitly how the Holy of Holies was holier than every other place:

בית קודש הקודשים מקודש ממנו שאין נכנס לשם אלא כהן גדול ביום הכיפורים, בשעת העבודה

The Holy of Holies is holier than [the rest of the Sanctuary edifice], as only the High Priest may enter there on Yom Kippur at the time of the service.

We see from this halacha that the essence of the Holy of Holies’ sanctity derived from the fact it was the place designated for more commandments than the other places, i.e., it had even stricter rules of limited entry than the rest of the Temple, and it was designated for a unique sacrificial service not performed elsewhere, and that is what made it holy, even when, for centuries perhaps, the Ark of the Covenant was absent. In the Guide to the Perplexed (3:45, based on the Friedlander translation), Maimonides explains that these defined areas of additional sanctity have a specific utility:

It is evident that the object of giving different degrees of sanctity to the different places, to the Temple Mount, the place between the two walls, to the women’s courtyard, to the Hall, and so on up to the Holy of Holies, was to raise the respect and reverence of the Temple in the minds of all who approached it.

The sixteenth-century commentator Radbaz has a classic explanation of Maimonides’s distinction between the sanctity of the Temple and the sanctity of the land, and it answers a question regarding the Mishna (Keilim 1) that Maimonides cites regarding the ten levels of sanctity within the Land of Israel:

The land of Israel is sanctified above all other lands. What is its sanctity? From it we bring the ‘omer, the bikkurim, and the two loaves of (pentecostal) bread.

Why doesn’t the Mishna just state that the land’s sanctity is that the mitzwoth hat’luyoth ba’aretz, the agricultural commandments that are contingent on the land, only apply in the land of Israel?

The answer is that the Mishna was aware that the main sanctity of the land is transient, that it was once conditional and then nullified, and therefore there were times when the land had no sanctity, i.e., the usual commandments were not in force. But, because the Temple’s sanctity is eternal and unconditional, and never lapsed, the sacrifices were always required, and the offerings mentioned in this Mishna are all public offerings of the Temple, and therefore this aspect of the land’s sanctity, which is a derivative of the Temple’s sanctity, is also eternal. That means, for example, that if during the times of the Babylonian exile, before work even began on the Second Temple and the altar was rebuilt, the Jews had an opportunity to offer sacrifice at the Temple ruins, as apparently happened at certain times even after the destruction of the Second Temple, and it was Passover or Pentecost, they would have to make sure that the grains they were using for the ‘omer and the pentecostal loaves, (also called bikkurim) had to come from the land of Israel, even though they could not and did not count the years of the Sabbatical cycle, or tithe their crops, or keep the other commandments that were contingent on the land.

Were the Temple’s sanctity conditional like that of the land’s sanctity, as the Meiri and the Meshech Hochma claim, I would have expected Maimonides to say so, just as he wrote how the land’s sanctity was once conditional and subject to nullification, and just as he wrote in the Book of Commandments regarding a similar issue:

If we were to suppose that the people of Israel were to disappear from the land of Israel – although it is sacrilege to say that God allow such a thing, as He has already promised that the remnant of this people shall neither be erased or uprooted – then our calculation [of the calendar] would not be of any utility to us whatsoever, because we are not supposed to calculate and intercalate the years and establish new moons outside of the land except for specific circumstances, and as we have explained, “for Torah shall go forth from Zion, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.”

According to Maimonides, the complete removal of the Jews from the land of Israel would be the destruction of the Jewish people.

This passage teaches us that the responsibility/necessity of a court to establish the Jewish calendar is, at least in theory, conditioned on the presence of that court within the land of Israel.

Thus, if the Temple’s sanctity was conditional, for example, on the presence of the Ark of the Covenant, we would have expected Maimonides to write something along the lines of:

If we were to suppose that the Ark of the Covenant were to disappear from the Temple – heaven forbid – then the entire sanctity of the Temple would be nullified, and we would not be able to offer any of the public sacrifices therein, even though the Temple would still be standing in all its grandeur, and we would not be able to eat the most holy sacrifices in the Temple Courtyard even if its walls were standing, and neither would we be able to eat less holy sacrifices and the second tithe within Jerusalem even if it had a wall, because the original sanctification of the Temple only has effect as long as the Ark remains in the Temple.

But Maimonides never wrote any such thing. It is very difficult to argue that according to Maimonides, or the sages for that matter, the sanctity of the Temple would be contingent on the presence of the Ark.

We will now turn to explaining what Maimonides’s intent was in seemingly ruling that the Ark of the Covenant was hidden in a secret chamber beneath the Temple Mount. The matter of the Ark’s disappearance from history is a matter of dispute both among secular researchers (at least among those who believe it ever existed) and our sages, and it seems that many of the proposed narratives are speculative and conjectural. How and why did Maimonides see fit to take sides in this argument?

As we have mentioned, the Meiri and Meshech Hochma et al. claim that the Ark must have stayed within the Temple for its sanctity to be able to persist, thus allowing for us to keep all of the positive and negative commandments of the Temple throughout history, even during the times the Temple stands in ruins, and even during Second Temple times. Although this could very well be a valid explanation for why some of the sages may have claimed that the Ark was hidden under the Temple, it certainly could not have been Maimonides’s reason.

My tentative answer is that with regards to historical and halachic disputes that have no clear resolution, it is Maimonides’s general practice to side with the position that draws the most scriptural support. In this case, there is a verse that seems to describe Josiah instructing the Priests and Levites to hide the Ark, and although Kings, Jeremiah, and Chronicles describe how the Babylonians destroyed and despoiled the Temple in great detail, no mention is made whatsoever of the Ark. This seems to indicate that the Ark was safely hidden before the destruction. This may also be the reason why the Mishna assumes that the Ark was hidden under the Temple, even though differing opinions existed among the sages. 

But why would Maimonides include his historical view at this point in the laws of the Temple?

My first answer is that just like in his introduction to the Yad, Maimonides lists all of the transmitters of the Oral Tradition in order to emphasize that the halachoth he records are solidly grounded in positive tradition, and in the first chapter of these laws he emphasizes the unbroken Jewish tradition of Sanctuary service since the revelation at Sinai until the permanent Temple in Jerusalem, and in the second chapter he brings the importance of the historical, eternal tradition of the location of the Altar, and in this fourth chapter, Maimonides emphasizes the Foundation Stone that lay prominently in the Holy of Holies, which has a long history parallel to that of the location of the Altar, and serves as its reference point. Yes, in the First Temple the Ark and the manna and Aaron’s staff rested upon the stone, but in the Second Temple, when they had already been hidden, the Foundation Stone was still there, and that was the important part. That is why Maimonides then describes how, because the location of the Holy of Holies needs to be exactly that as demanded by positive tradition, the builders of the Second Temple adjusted the plan of the partitions between the Holy and the Holy of Holies because of the doubt that had arisen. In each of these chapters, Maimonides’s purpose is to define a specific place to the exclusion of all others: The Temple Mount in Jerusalem to the exclusion of all other places in Israel, the place of the Altar as it always was to the exclusion of any other place on the Mount; the place of the Holy of Holies to the exclusion of any other place on the western part of the Mount. 

(Considering that because Maimonides already wrote in his commentary to the Mishna that the Temple’s sanctity is eternal and inalterable, and certainly not contingent on the presence of the Ark, I would have expected the Meshech Hochma and others to suggest that the sanctity of the Temple emanates from the presence of the Foundation Stone. I would not be surprised to learn that others have already suggested this.)

On the other hand, one might have thought that perhaps the location of the Holy of Holies should depend on that of the Ark, for example, if the Ark were now hidden 30 feet underground and a few hundred feet to the east of the where the foundation stone is (the Chamber of Wood was at the eastern end of the Temple’s outer courtyard), the Second Temple’s edifice should have been built directly over that new spot.

Secondly, Maimonides mentions that the Ark and the other items, Aaron’s staff, and the manna and the anointing oil, are still intact because these items serve as the tokens of the covenant (see below). A couple can not stay together alone in the house, or vacation on the opposite side of the world together, if they do not know where their k’thuba is. So too, Maimonides needed to write that the Temple is still God’s chosen place to be with His chosen people, and the marriage contract and the tokens of the covenant are still there for safekeeping.

Thirdly, Maimonides is following an idea found in the Midrash (Genesis Rabba 79:7):

“[Jacob] bought the section of the field where he had pitched his tent for one hundred qesita.” Rabbi Judah b. Simon said, “this is one of three places with which the nations of the world cannot deride Israel saying, ‘they are not lawfully yours:’ the Cave of the Patriarchs, the Holy Temple, and Joseph’s burial plot.

The verse described how all of these places were bought by Abraham, David, and Jacob respectively, for large sums. History has shown time and again that the people of Israel have endured the strange fortune of having to fight to maintain their historical connection to their eponymous land, even though the Chinese and Bulgarians and most others have not had to fight to maintain theirs.

Maimonides foresaw how one day, the nations of the world would challenge Israel’s right to the land of Israel, Jerusalem, the Temple Mount, and the places of the Altar and the Sanctuary, and that they would thus challenge the intrinsic and eternal holiness of those places. He thus brought the history and the enduring connection of those places to the Jewish tradition when explaining how their eternal sanctity affects the commandments that are meant to be performed in those places.

Rabbi Shendorfi used Rashi’s comments on Z’vahim 61b in an attempt to show how the Sanctuaries at Nob and Gibeon were of lesser holiness, but I disagreed with him because, in that context, Rashi was specifically addressing the construction of the altars at those two Sanctuaries, and as per the discussion on the previous folio, those altars only possessed a temporary sanctity that had long since passed, as opposed to the sanctity of the transportable, bronze altar of the Tabernacle, which maintained some of its sanctity even when it was not in usable condition, and the holiness of the Temple altars, which exists to this day at the site of the altar, even though the altar itself still awaits to be rebuilt. 

I will not translate the detailed disagreement regarding the interpretation of Z’vahim 119a, regarding where the second tithe was consumed in the years after the destruction of Shiloh and before the Temple was built. The Hevel Nahalato wondered why Maimonides and the Bartenura did not interpret the Mishna according to Rabbi Judah’s position if the halacha is normally in accordance with Rabbi Judah. My answer is that the Hevel Nahalato assumes that Rabbi Judah’s opinion is as explained by Rashi, but Maimonides and Bartenura understand the discussion entirely differently, and in their view, they do interpret the Mishna as being in accordance with Rabbi Judah. 

I suggest that it is a fallacious tendency to causally link the facts that the Ark was not present in both Nov and Gibeon and that at those times there was a hetter bamoth. However, correlation does not mean causation, as can be seen from the conclusions of both Talmudim and Maimonides’s commentary. The hetter bamoth was not due to the absence of the Ark, although it did coincide with the absence of the Ark. As I wrote earlier, this was even a rejected hawa amina in the Talmud. I am therefore not surprised that the rabbinic-literary record shows that this hawa amina appeared a few times in history. 

In the 20th century works that did assume this causal relationship, a slew of Biblical and Talmudic sources was marshaled as proof, but each time the indication was that indeed there was a correlation, but no proof of causation. For example, the Tosefta at the end of Z’vahim says “What was the great bama during the period of the hetter bama? The Tent of Meeting was pitched as normal, but the Ark was not there.” This, as the Hevel Nahalato and Rabbi Shendorfi pointed out, seems to say that the hetter bamoth may have been due to the absence of the Ark, but we should first ask what this teaching tells us beyond what is explicitly mentioned in many verses in Kings, Chronicles, and Samuel, including this one (I Kings 3:3-4):

Solomon loved the Lord, walking in the statutes of David his father; he would only slaughter and sacrifice in the [official] high places. The king went to Gibeon to sacrifice there; for that was the great bama; Solomon offered a thousand burnt-offerings upon that altar. 

The answer happens to be found in the two previous verses (ibid., 1-2):

Solomon married into Pharaoh, king of Egypt’s, family; he married Pharaoh’s daughter, and brought her to the city of David until he completed building his own house, the Temple of the Lord, and the wall of Jerusalem roundabout. Yet the people still sacrificed at the high places, because there was still no Temple built for the name of the Lord in those days. 

That is, the bamoth would become prohibited once the Temple was built. This verse is the clearest Biblical source for the Talmudic/Maimonidean position. Indeed, the Tabernacle stood in Gibeon while the Ark was first in Abinadab’s house and then in Jerusalem, and at that time Gibeon was called the “great bama” and other bamoth were permitted, but the reason for bamoth being permitted was because the permanent Temple had yet to be built.   

This is actually quite profound. One might have argued that if a “great bama” was at Gibeon, while an ordinary [minor] bama is any other private altar, then ever since David brought the Ark to Jerusalem and the prophets had endorsed his plan to build a permanent Temple in Jerusalem, and they had established an altar at what would be the site of the future, permanent Temple, there were actually two national central places of worship: the great bama in Gibeon, and the bama that already stood in Jerusalem, at the site of the future Sanctuary which God had chosen and which was accompanied by God’s messiah and His Ark. The verses therefore teach us that even though Solomon was stationed in Jerusalem, and he already had an established altar at the designated site of the Temple and the Ark of the Covenant was already waiting there in Jerusalem, the Tabernacle at Gibeon, where only Aaronite priests could serve and where the sacrificial service was done on the nation’s behalf every day “as per the the Torah of Moses” (I Chronicles 16:39-40) was still the only place true place of national, central worship, and for example, the Paschal offering could only be brought there (Laws of the Paschal Offering 1:2-3). I believe that there were perhaps thousands who were of this belief already in the last few years of David’s reign, especially after many Israelites became uncomfortable with making their pilgrimages to Gibeon, which, although a priestly city (Joshua 21:17), was also inhabited by cruel, unforgiving non-Jews (II Samuel 21:1-7), and had twice been the site of inter-Israelite, political violence (II Samuel 2:12-17 and 20:8). 

This idea is actually alluded to in Moses’s prayer when the Israelites would begin their journeys in the wilderness. “the Ark of the Lord’s Covenant would travel before them… to seek out m’nuha, rest, for them” (Numbers 10:33). “And when the Ark traveled, Moses said, Arise O Lord, and Your enemies will be dispersed, and those who hate You will flee from before You” (ibid., 35). As we saw, m’nuha is a reference to the Shiloh Sanctuary and its time period. That is, when the Israelites first came into Canaan, as Maimonides described, the land was sanctified through their conquests, when the Ark of the Covenant would lead them out to war. (As we wrote earlier, every one of the Israelite’s journeys from Sinai were acts of war and conquest). The Ark would go out to war with the people throughout their conquests, until at the end of those conquests, it, along with the rest of the Tabernacle, was brought to its first resting place in Shiloh, but after that, once God had come to His permanent resisting place, His nahala, portion, the Land would be sanctified not through war and conquest, but by the mere presence of His people. 

Another ramification of the Talmudic outlook regarding the hetter bamoth is that we are not obliged, like the Meshech Hochma and others were, to explain examples in the Books of Joshua and Judges wherein the Israelites built altars and offered sacrifice beyond the Shiloh Sanctuary as instances of when the Ark was temporarily removed from the Sanctuary. Instead, just like we find explicitly regarding Elijah at Mt. Carmel, and Gideon (Judges 6:25-26) and Manoah (ibid., 13:16), God expressly instructed them to offer sacrifice then and there, what the sages called a hora’ath sha’a, a one-time dispensation, the other instances were also similarly prophetic temporary dispensations. 

Another Biblical passage presents a challenge to the Meiri’s position. Upon witnessing the Clouds of Glory fill the Temple, Solomon declared (I Kings 8:18-21):

Now it was in the heart of my father David to build a temple for the Name of the Lord, God of Israel, but the Lord said to my father David: Because it was in your heart to build a temple for My name, you have done well with what was in your heart; However, you shall not build the Temple. Rather, your son, who shall come from out of your loins, he shall build the Temple for My Name. The Lord has kept His word that He spoke, and I have risen up in place of my father David, and I have sat on the throne of Israel, as the Lord spoke, and I have built the Temple for the Name of the Lord, God of Israel, and I have set therein a place for the Ark in which is the covenant of the Lord, which He forged with our fathers when He brought them out of the land of Egypt.’

According to the Meiri et al., why would Solomon need to say this? Isn’t the Temple’s very sanctity conditional on the presence of the Ark? Isn’t it supposed to be there? So why is it remarkable that Solomon’s magnificent Temple had a place for the Ark?

The answer is that, as Maimonides already implied, the Temple does not necessarily need the Ark. Yes, it was there during our best eras, but, as the Gibeon/Nov and Second Temple eras show, the Ark is far from necessary, and one should not assume that it would always be housed in the Sanctuary. An amazing aspect of the First Temple was that for the first time in decades, the Ark could once again be housed in the Holy of Holies.

Concerning the fact that Maimonides did not list an independent commandment to fashion the Ark, it must be noted that as he lists only one commandment to build and upkeep the Temple, and all of the service vessels within the Temple are included in the one commandment, and he does even count independent commandments to make those vessels that were actually used in the course of the service, e.g., the altars and the candelabrum, it is understandable why the Ark, which served no ritual purpose, enjoys no commandment regarding its own fabrication. This also explains why no replacement ark was created for the Second Temple: it served no practical purpose and did not and could not be replaced, because its purpose was disconnected from any Temple service. Only Solomon, and not Samuel, David, or Saul, installed the Ark in the Sanctuary when the time came. We see from this that it did not bother anyone that the Sanctuary lacked the Ark until then.

Josiah’s aforementioned removal of the Ark from the Temple did not in any way change the function or sanctity of the Temple.

Zerubbabel and Jeshua the High Priest received a mandate from Cyrus to do whatever was necessary to found and rebuild the Temple, and although they were guided by three prophets, they never sought to locate the Ark and return it, and they were never told to do so. Neither Ezra nor Nehemiah tried to do so even though they could have. Neither did any subsequent Jewish ruler: Simon the Just, the Maccabees, Simon ben Shetah, or Herod, who demolished the original structure of the Second Temple in order to build an even grander one under the guidance of the sages. All of these Second-Temple figures had just as much legal access to the entire Temple Mount as the modern Israeli government, and much less outside interference, if any at all. 

The Mishna does mention that there was a priest who believed that he may have found an indication of the Ark’s hiding place, and that he died a miraculous, sudden, and horrific death before he could share his find. This was a heavenly sign that the Ark was not supposed to be in the Second Temple. (In a nod to the teachings of R’ Avigdor Miller, I would argue that the benefit here was that the testimony contained in the Ark could not be claimed and hijacked by sectarian groups, the Sadducees, the Boethusians, and the Christians, that arose in that era and who did hijack the Temple and our scriptures when they had opportunities. At the very least, the Philistines who seized the Ark respected it as a vanquished god and learned to treat it with awe, and one could imagine that the Babylonians, who, according to some scholars both Jewish and non-Jewish, may have likewise shown some reverence to the Ark, but in the hands of the Christians it would be treated in a manner completely sacrilegious, or, God forbid as proof to their legitimacy. Until today, the Ethiopian Christians make such claims regarding the non-Ark they claim to possess.)

From a philosophical perspective, there never was and still is no reason to seek the Ark. In Hebrew, the Ark is referred to as both the Ark of the Covenant and the Ark of the Testimony because it holds the testimony, the physical relics, of the covenant enacted at Sinai: the tablets and the Torah are analogous to the Jewish institution of the marriage contract which is signed by both parties. In this case, the covenant has one document signed by God Himself, so to speak, the tablets, and the other by Israel’s legal representative, Moses, the Torah written by his hand. The Torah scroll itself was finalized by Moses on the day he died, when he contracted a second covenant with Israel, the covenant in the Plains of Moab, with the new generation that replaced the first. Nahmanides writes about how the Redemption from Egypt climaxed with the construction of the Tabernacle, while Solomon, in his speech at the Temple’s dedication, emphasized that the new edifice was to house the Ark of the covenant that began with the Exodus, which is why, of all of the events in scripture aside from the Passover observed in the wilderness a year after the Exodus, the dedication of Solomon’s Temple is dated to the year of the Exodus, as it was a continuation of that redemptive process.

However, in the interim exile, when the Second Temple’s construction was drawn out, the Jews reaccepted the Torah and the commandments anew, and out of love, as per the sages’ teaching regarding the ninth chapter of Esther, “the Jews accepted and upheld for themselves and for their descendants” that which they had previously accepted, and thus we had a new diaspora-born covenant that ascended to Israel with the builders of the Second Temple. The signing of this New Deal took place in the rebuilt Temple, as described in the latter part of the book of Nehemiah, among the people and their representatives led by Ezra, who, as the sages tell us, was worthy of receiving the Torah on Israel’s behalf, and was the one who had the final say as to the authorized text of the Torah, and who changed its script. The new tokens of this new covenant, Ezra’s Torah scrolls, were kept safely in the Temple, while the artisans fashioned new, engraved cherubim to adorn the back wall of the Holy of Holies, as though a replacement for the Ark of the Covenant, and analogous to the replacement marriage contract that the sages ordered a man to write for his wife if the original is no longer. The Ark of the Covenant was made to contain the physical evidence of the covenant and act as a divine antenna, but during the time of the Second Temple, the people saw how the Divine Presence rests upon Israel even in the Ark’s absence, and the people themselves carried or demonstrated the tokens of the eternal covenant with their very bodies.

This was foretold in Jeremiah 31:

Behold, days are coming, says the Lord, and I will enact a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah; not like the covenant that I made with their fathers the day that I took them by their hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, for they abrogated My covenant, although I lorded over them, says the Lord. For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will have placed My Torah within them, and I will write it upon their heart; I will be a God for them, and they shall be a nation for Me.

(See also Rashi’s commentary to Jeremiah 3:16.)

Even when the Ark’s whereabouts were known, its function was exclusively as a prophetic antenna, and even when it is was stowed away in Abinadab’s house, the prophets flourished, and when it was ultimately hidden, Josiah told the people that although the priests no longer had any responsibility to protect and transport the Ark, the people should continue to serve God as they always were supposed to have done. And even after that, new prophets arose in Israel. Thus, nothing actually changed when the Ark was lost, and we are hard-pressed to find any example of how, when the Ark’s location was known, our manner of serving God was supposed to be different from the way it is now.

The Mishna mentions that the sages approved of Hezekiah’s destruction of the brazen serpent Nehushtan that Moses had fashioned. At the time, the people had started to ascribe powers to the inanimate object, and this smacked of idolatry. I believe his great-grandson Josiah’s decision to hide the Ark was along the same lines, especially given the impending destruction which he sought to avoid. Shortly before the destruction of Shiloh, the people had looked to the Ark in an inappropriate manner, thinking that it somehow guaranteed them divine protection and victory in battle, and this was also slightly idolatrous. The Ark contains the documentation of the covenant, but the covenant still has to be kept if the Jews wish to merit divine protection. At that point, they were punished by being routed in battle, and having the Ark captured and the Sanctuary destroyed, and much of Samuel’s subsequent work was to get the people to abandon the idolatry to which they had become accustomed. The verse explicitly connects the Ark’s concealment with the people returning to the pure worship of God (I Samuel 7:2-3):

It was that from the day that the Ark abode in Kiriath-Jearim, that many years passed, it was ultimately twenty years, and the entire house of Israel was drawn to the Lord.

Samuel said to the entire house of Israel, saying: If you return to the Lord with all your heart, then get rid of the foreign gods and the ashtaroth from among yourselves, and direct your hearts to the Lord, and serve Him exclusively, and He will deliver you from the hand of the Philistines.

The first of these two verses describes the entire twenty-year period, the latter describes Samuel’s initiation of the repentance movement.

Josiah was trying to pre-empt this type of after-the-fact reaction to retribution. His generation believed that the very Temple was invincible and would afford them lasting protection (Jeremiah 7:4), and this may have been due to an overly literal understanding of the Sanctuary as God’s residence, as that is what seems to be indicated by the words in Exodus, but in actuality, in Moses’s own words in Deuteronomy and in the traditional Targumim, the Temple did not and can not possibly contain the One Whose glory fills the universe, but rather, it is a place dedicated to His name and service. Their reliance was possibly fatal, and Josiah therefore sought to show them that the Temple did not need the Ark in order to function, and that it was not some sort of talisman. In essence, he wanted to bring about the pure state of both private religious devotion and public sacrificial service that had been in Samuel’s time, but without having to suffer the destruction of the Sanctuary. The sages themselves discuss such forms of pre-emptive remedies, such as self-imposed lashes and exile for penitents, and praying outdoors and visiting cemeteries on emergency fast days.

This argument can be seen from the progression of events in II Chronicles 34 and 35. There are those who argue that the proof text for Josiah hiding the Ark, 35:3, actually describes Josiah returning the Ark to its rightful place within the Sanctuary, because either his father or grandfather had removed it, but if that were the case, we would have expected to find Josiah doing so much earlier in the narrative, when he became an adult and ordered the refurbishing of the Temple, during the course of which the priests found the ominous Torah scroll which prompted the king and his advisors to seek Hulda’s guidance. When her prophecy of impending destruction was heard, Josiah began his national campaign of repentance in an effort to stave off the impending disaster, ridding the land of idolatry and having the people enter into a new covenant to keep the Torah. In context, the hiding of the Ark can be seen as an act meant to ensure that the people’s intentions in their worship of God would be pure and exactly as the Torah had commanded.

Indeed, in the recently released Steinsaltz Tanakh in English, a similar point is made in the commentary to Jeremiah 3:16.

As for the important question, “isn’t the idea of the Sinaitic covenant being superseded dangerously close to the Christian doctrine which proposes a New Testament and a new covenant with a newly chosen people to replace Israel?” The answer is thankfully no, because what we have seen in our very own Torah (the covenant in the Plains of Moab) and in the rest of the Bible, as we mentioned, are not new covenants but merely reaffirmations of the original eternal covenant, and that which has been replaced is limited to the documentation thereof. To what is this analogous? To a lender who lost his promissory note, and has a new one issued to him by the court. The attestations are the same, that the loan was given on such a date to so-and-so and due at such time, except that it now supersedes the previous note if it were to be found. So too, the covenant since the time of the Second Temple is the same covenant of Abraham and Sinai, just attested to by different exhibits.

I certainly do not buy the argument that Josiah hid the Ark of the Covenant in order to protect it from falling into the hands of the Babylonian conquerors because there does not seem to be any scriptural support for this contention, and because unlike the other Temple appointments, which fell into the hands of both the Babylonians and Romans, and were then desecrated, we already have seen what happened to the Ark when it was captured by the uncircumcised heathens: it brought retribution upon them. Had the Babylonians or Romans been foolish enough to take the Ark, they would have learned their lesson even faster than the Philistines did.

Instead, I offer this passage from Sh’qalim (6:1):

מי גנזו יאשיהו גנזו כיון שראה שכתוב (דברים כח) יולך ה’ אותך ואת מלכך אשר תקים עליך אל גוי אשר לא ידעת אתה ואבותיך עמד וגנזו הדא הוא דכתיב (דברי הימים ב לה) ויאמר ללוים המבינים ולכל ישראל הקדושים לה’ תנו את ארון הקדש בבית אשר בנה שלמה בן דוד מלך ישראל אין לכם משא בכתף אמר להם אם גולה הוא עמכם לבבל אין אתם מחזירין אותו עוד למקומו אלא (שם) עתה עבדו את ה’ אלהיכם ואת עמו ישראל

Josiah said to the Levites, “if the Ark goes into exile with you, you will never return it to its place.”

Notice that Josiah was not afraid of the Babylonians taking the Ark; as we saw it it could take very good care of itself. Instead, he was afraid the Levites would take it to accompany the people in exile, and then once it would be there in Babylonia, the Levites would, for whatever reason, not return it to the Temple when the time came. Why not? Well, as we read in Ezra, there was little enthusiasm to leave Babylonia when the time came, and the Levites were especially lackadaisical. Nothing has changed in all these centuries. To take the Jews out of the exile, you first have to take the exile out of the Jews. Now imagine the Ark had joined the Jews in exile. They would have come up with all sorts of lofty-sounding divrei torah about how the Divine Presence is with them in Babylonia, how their synagogues are much more than miqd’shei m’at, and other such justifications, just as today we delude ourselves with excuses for not leaving the diaspora, not voting for leadership that pledges to uphold the Torah, and not pressing for the building of the Temple. W’hameivin yavin.

Rabbi Shendorfi then asked me incredulously, “The Ark does go in the Holy of Holies. Is that not what grants it its holiness?” and my answer was no, it has intrinsic holiness in that it has limited access, as the Mishna states. However, it is also the ideal place for storing not only the Ark, but also other major symbolic objects, like the manna and Aaron’s staff, but even so, sometimes circumstances call for some or all of those items to be removed from the Holy of Holies, but that by no means detracts from its holiness. 

Finally, returning to terminology, the sages followed the Biblical precedent of using the terms “great bama” and “minor bama” in the same way they referred to synagogues and study halls since the times of the Babylonian exile as miqd’shei m’at (based on Ezekiel 11:16), lit. “minor sanctuaries,” as opposed to THE miqdash. That is, during David’s time, because altars were called bamoth, even if they were not literally “high places,” the central, national altar was called “the great bama.” 

We should also note that even though we find the term “great bama” regarding Gibeon in the Bible, we do not find it regarding Nov, even though it is obvious that the Tabernacle stood there. Further, it is well known that the site of the Sanctuary at Shiloh was neither on top of any hill or mountain, nor was it in a particularly low spot, but rather in a level area on the side of a hill.

(The author standing in the vineyards below the site of the Tabernacle at Shiloh. The Tabernacle stood on the side of the hill in the center of the picture, above his left shoulder.)

We also have no indication that the Tabernacle, at any station in the wilderness or at Gilgal, was ever erected at a particularly high place. Thus, it seems to me that the novelty of these verses is two-fold: Gibeon was the first place that the Israelites erected the Tabernacle in a place that was noticeably elevated, and that place was called “the [great] bama” because of its appearance. That it, is in the Bible, the Sanctuary was always referred to as “the  Tabernacle” or House of the Lord, etc., while its location in Gibeon was descriptively called “the great bama,” and many years later, long after the Jerusalem Temple became established, the altar at Gibeon was then referred to as “the great bama“, and the sages eventually referred to the entire Sanctuary at Gibeon as “the great bama.” This is reminiscent of how, in the language of the Talmud and the Rishonim, there is the issue of k’nisa, entering, or biath, coming into, the miqdash (Maimonides even has a whole class of laws called “biath miqdash“), whereas today, the controversy is referred to as k’nisa l’har habayit, “entering the Temple Mount,” or even more distantly, aliya l’har habayit, “ascending the Temple Mount.” I, in the spirit of accuracy and fidelity to tradition, use the Maimonidean term in order to stress the importance of the commandment in our day; we are not just walking around the perimeter of the Temple Mount. לשכנו תדרשו, ובאת שמה. We are going to the Temple.[1]

Thus, we see that the prophets never referred to the Gibeon Sanctuary as “the great bama,” but rather to only its location as “the great bama,” and every halachic distinction between the private bamoth and “the great bama” discussed by the sages is only in the realm of the service on those altars, but with regard to every other aspect of the service that did not involve the altar, e.g., the services done with the other appointments, such as the candelabrum, the golden altar, and the table of the shewbread, and all the laws of the priesthood, there were no differences. That is, contrary to what the Hevel Nahalato argued, the public sanctuary service throughout the Nov and Gibeon periods was in no way different from that of the Shiloh and Jerusalem periods, with the only exception being the allowance to eat “the less holy sacrificial foods in any city of Israel,” as the Mishna states explicitly. Many, as can be seen, have suggested that certain sacrifices were simply not offered during the Nov and Gibeon periods, but these arguments can not be made within Maimonides’ understanding of the sources. 

I was then challenged by the following passage from the Guide wherein Maimonides proposes reasons for the Temple appointments (ibid.):

It is known that the heathens in those days built temples to stars, and set up in those temples the image which they agreed upon to worship; because it was in some relation to a certain star or to a portion of one of the spheres. We were, therefore, commanded to build a temple to the name of God, and to place therein the Ark with two tables of stone, on which there were written the commandments “I am the Lord,” etc., and “Thou shalt have no other God before me,” etc. Naturally the fundamental belief in prophecy precedes the belief in the Law, for without the belief in prophecy there can be no belief in the Law. But a prophet only receives divine inspiration through the agency of an angel… From the preceding remarks it is clear that the belief in the existence of angels is connected with the belief in the Existence of God; and the belief in God and angels leads to the belief in Prophecy and in the truth of the Torah. In order to firmly establish this creed, God commanded [the Israelites] to make the form of two angels on top of the Ark. The belief in the existence of angels is thus inculcated into the minds of the people, and this belief is second in importance to the belief in God’s Existence; it leads us to believe in prophecy and in the Torah, and opposes idolatry. If there had only been one figure of a cherub, the people would have been misled and would have mistaken it for God’s image which was to be worshiped, in the fashion of the heathen; or they might have assumed that the angel [represented by the figure] was also a deity, and would thus have adopted a Dualism. By making two cherubim and distinctly declaring “the Lord is our God, the Lord is One,” Moses clearly proclaimed the theory of the existence of a number of angels; he left no room for the error of considering those figures as deities, since [he declared that) God is one, and that He is the Creator of the angels, who are more than one.

Although this could be seen as Maimonides stressing that the Ark was an almost critical fixture of the Sanctuaries, when we consider that in his definition, three Sanctuaries never housed the Ark, we realize that here Maimonides is actually emphasizing the form of the Cherubim that adorned the Ark, and that, as pointed out by the sages, even when the Ark was absent from the Sanctuary, other Cherubim were still within the Holy of Holies: Solomon constructed two, larger wood and gold Cherubim that stood in the First Temple, while in the Second Temple there were Cherubim carved into the wooden interior wall of the Holy of Holies (Yoma 54), and they were overlaid with gold. Thus, the important symbolic and ideological message of the Cherubim was never missing from the Temple, even if the Ark was. 

This entire discussion began with an attempt to explain why the destruction of Shiloh was almost ignored in the book of Samuel, and is only invoked in passing in other prophetic books. In truth, the book of Samuel is entirely transitory in nature. It is the story of the transition between the old, egalitarian system, to a rigid, exclusive establishment.

In one of his previous videos, Rabbi Bar Hayim discussed the commandment to build the Temple, specifically the statement of the sages that the Israelites were commanded to appoint a king, destroy Amalek, and build the Temple, implying that the order described is required, and meaning that the Temple could only be built by a king, which many authorities understood to mean that in the event there is no king in Israel, as is the case, for example, now, then there is no obligation to build the Temple. Rabbi Bar Hayim disagrees with this position; Maimonides for example, in the previously cited section from the Guide explains that a king would only be required not for the construction of the Temple per se, but 

chiefly, every one of the twelve tribes would desire to have this place in its borders and under its control; this would lead to divisions and discord, such as were caused by the desire for the priesthood. Therefore it was commanded that the Temple should not be built before the election of a king who would order its erection, and thus remove the cause of discord. 

The king is necessary for us to get past the selection of a place for the Temple, but once that is no longer going to be disputed, a king would not be necessary.

Alternatively, a hereditary monarch might not be totally necessary; perhaps, as we have seen before, the role of a Jewish king can also be filled by a prophet or Judge, as Maimonides writes specifically regarding the commandment to conquer the land. This would explain how the Tabernacle and the Second Temple were built under the leadership of Moses and Zerubbabel as the undisputed leaders of Israel, respectively, even though neither held the title of king. A prime minister would be no different.

It is therefore my proposal that in the days of Joshua, who was the most faithful to Moses’s teachings and knew the Torah better than anyone else, the Israelites did fulfill these three commandments. Joshua was for all intents and purposes the king of Israel just like Moses was, the Israelites had concluded their wars for the security of the people, which is the essence of milhemeth amalek, and by building a semi-permanent Sanctuary at Shiloh, they fulfilled the commandment to build the Temple. For close to four hundred years, no one doubted that the Israelites and their chosen leader had not done exactly “as God commanded Moses.” However, as history has shown, the prophets were still among us, and even though once upon a time, certain crowns had yet to be taken, the prophets could inform us that eventually those crowns would fall into certain hands exclusively. 

Before David, they knew that the Tabernacle could be transferred to a new place, as long as God ordained it. Even Shiloh, the place that God did choose, was eventually “rejected” (Psalms 78:60, 67). The Tabernacle reverted to its original, transportable condition, until It finally found its permanent, never-to-be-replaced home. In that intervening period, the Ark was even waiting  for the Tabernacle to leave its temporary place in Gibeon and join it in Jerusalem. The Tabernacle was moving frequently, and when it reached its penultimate station, it was even rivaled by its eventual replacement. With regards to the priesthood, in the old system any of Aaron’s descendants were eligible for the high priesthood, and the sages pointed out that the high priests had been descended from both of Aarons’ surviving sons, Elazar and Ithamar. However, even though Eli’s family held the high-priesthood at the end of the Shiloh period, as we see from Saul’s massacre of that family at Nov, and the subsequent transfer of the Tabernacle to Gibeon where Zadok’s family apparently had lived since Joshua’s days, in the intervening period both Abiathar and Zadok enjoyed the privileges of the high priesthood, and many verses in Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles, as well as teachings of our sages, point to the growing tension between the two men and their families throughout David’s reign, leading to a dangerous intrigue that saw Zadok being appointed the exclusive high priest and Solomon letting Abiathar live despite his perhaps selfish involvement in insurrection. From then on, the prophets would describe how the high priesthood would be exclusively in the hands of Zadok’s house. The high priesthood was up for grabs, and when it reached its penultimate officeholder, he was rivaled by his eventual replacement. Most noticeably, in the old system leadership was open to all of the tribes of Israel, and the sages claimed that every tribe produced one of the Judges. However, Samuel, who was a Levite just like Moses, presided over the transition from his unofficial role in lieu of king, to a temporary, conditional, Benjamite dynasty, to a state of two competing kingdoms (Ishbosheth and David) to that of an eternal, Davidic dynasty, and even David’s own family suffered from instability until Solomon was a few years into his reign. Leadership was changing hands, and when it reached its penultimate office holder, he was even rivaled by his eventual replacement. These three houses, the House of God in Jerusalem, the House of David, and the House of Zadok, would form an inseparable union, and they would forever retain the crowns they had earned, even though those crowns used to change hands regularly.

These transitions were all described by Samuel and the anonymous prophet who preceded him (I Samuel 3:11-14). The destruction of Shiloh:

The Lord said to Samuel: Behold, I will do a thing in Israel, at which both ears of everyone who hears it shall tingle.

This expression is an allusion to the destruction of the Sanctuary, as can be clearly seen by its use in two later prophecies of the Sanctuary’s destruction, in II Kings 21:12 and Jeremiah 19:3. 

The House of Eli would be cursed:

On that day I will execute against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from the beginning even unto the end. For I have told him that I will judge his house forever, for the iniquity, in that he knew that his sons did bring a curse upon themselves, and he did not rebuke them. Therefore, I have sworn unto the house of Eli that the iniquity of Eli’s house shall never be expiated with sacrifice nor offering. 

and replaced:

And I will raise up a faithful priest for Myself, who shall do according to that which is in My heart and in My mind; and I will build a steady house for him, and he shall walk before My anointed forever. 

And this prophecy foreshadowed the rise of the Davidians, under whose tenure the Zadokite priests officiated (I Chronicles 29:22):

They ate and drank before the Lord on that day with great gladness. They made Solomon the son of David king for a second time, and anointed him for the Lord as ruler, and Zadok as priest.

Later, in the days of the building of the Second Temple, the prophet Zechariah described how these three great houses which had suffered from so much corruption leading up to the First Temple’s destruction, would experience a period of divine renewal (Zechariah 4:9-13):

The hands of Zerubbabel laid the foundation of this house; his hands shall also finish it, and you shall know that the Lord of Hosts has sent me to you. For who has despised the day of small things? Even they shall see with joy the plummet in Zerubbabel’s hand, even these seven [candles], which are the eyes of the Lord which dart to and fro across the whole earth. I Then responded, and said to him: ‘What are these two olive-trees on the right of the candelabrum and on its left?’ I responded a second time, and said to him, ‘What are these two olive branches, which are beside the two golden spouts, that empty the golden oil out of themselves?’ He answered me and said, ‘Do you not know what these are?’ And I said, ‘No, my lord.’ Then he said, ‘These are the two b’nei yitzhar,  those anointed with oil, who stand by the Lord of the whole earth.’

The anointed ones being Zerubbabel and Jeshua, the high priest. 

This explains why the destruction of Shiloh is almost ignored in the book of Samuel, and why Nov and Gibeon were not treated as full-fledged Sanctuaries in the eyes of the prophetic authors. They are not described with the same reverence and majesty that Shiloh and Jerusalem enjoyed, and Nov is nowhere explicitly described by any of the usual Biblical terms for any of the Sanctuaries, even though from a halachic standpoint it was a Sanctuary. This explains why Saul, after being rejected, was no longer an ideal, legitimate king even if he was halachically king even after David was anointed. This explains why Abiathar (II Samuel 15:24, according to the sages) and his father (I Samuel 14:3, 18, 19, 37) received no answer from the Urim and Tummim even though they were halachic high priests.  

II Samuel 7:18 states that, “David came and sat before God.” This could mean that David either sat before the Ark of the Covenant in the tent that he had pitched for it in Jerusalem, or that he went to the Sanctuary at Gibeon, but the Talmud, in a number of places, declares that only Davidic kings may sit in the Temple courtyard, and uses this verse as the proof text for this important exception, meaning that David did go to Gibeon, and that the sages assumed that the laws that applied to The Temple courtyard in Jerusalem once accordingly applied to Gibeon. Similarly, just as Maimonides rules (Laws of Murderers and the Preservation of Life):

The altar in the Temple serves as a refuge for [unintentional] killers… if a person kills unintentionally and takes refuge at the altar, and the blood redeemer kills him there, [the blood redeemer] should be executed as if he had killed him in a city of refuge.

it would seem reasonable that both Joab and Adonijah fled to Gibeon, and not the Jerusalem altar, to seek refuge from Solomon, even though they were not priests.

A possible challenge: Midrash Tanhuma (Wayaqhel 6) states that the entire Tabernacle was made for the sake of [housing] the Ark!

Indeed, this may be a challenge, but Maimonides already wrote that the initial commandment to build the Tabernacle is the also the eternal commandment to build the Temple: 

It is a positive commandment to build a House for God, ready for sacrifices to be offered within. There, we are to make celebratory pilgrimages three times a year, as it says [Exodus 25:8] states: “And you shall make a sanctuary for Me.”

And the purpose of any sanctuary from a halachic standpoint is sacrifice and pilgrimage. The Midrash, which discusses Bezalel’s seemingly supernatural wisdom, is describing a deeper, esoteric idea. 

Secondly, the Midrash is answering a potential challenge. The sages, as we have seen, said that the Israelites were to keep three commandments when they would settle in the land of Israel, and the building of the Temple is one of them. Why then would God command Israel to construct His house even before they would arrive in the land? Indeed, the sages debated to what extent the service was even conducted in the wilderness Tabernacle (Hagiga 6. See also the commentaries to Amos 5:25). None of the seasonal offerings were ever brought, and it is a matter of Talmudic dispute as to what, if any, of the daily and holiday public offerings, including offerings of mineral, vegetable, and animal origin, were actually brought! According to Maimonides, the Tabernacle was not only temporary, it was never used as a place of pilgrimage and used for very limited sacrifice! Rather, it must be that although the main purpose of the Tabernacle/Sanctuary would only be realized once Israel settled the land, the covenant they entered at Sinai required of them to have a proper place of storage for the tokens of that covenant, the Torah and the Tablets, and that is why the Tabernacle had to at least be built decades before it could be used as completely intended.

In Conclusion: An Interesting Symmetry and the Nov Novelty

According to the Talmudic chronology in the last chapter of Z’vahim and quoted by Maimonides:

The Tabernacle was in the wilderness for 39 years (almost exactly, from 1 Nisan until the second week of Nisan 39 years later).

The Tabernacle stood at Gilgal for 14 years.

The Tabernacle stood at Shiloh for 369 years. 

The Tabernacle stood in Nov and Gibeon for 57 years.

We do not have strong traditions regarding the dates of all of these; for example, although the Tabernacle was brought to Gilgal in Nisan, we do not know at what time of year it was then transferred to Shiloh, nor at what times of year Shiloh and Nov were destroyed. However, I propose that because the sages said that Israel began to count toward Sabbatical years after the 14 years of conquest, which ended when the Tabernacle was brought to Shiloh, and that the count traditionally starts on Rosh Hashana, the Tabernacle was therefore officially inaugurated at Shiloh on or about Rosh Hashana, just like the Temple eventually was.  

The First Temple stood for about 410 years, and sat in ruin for 70 years.

These figures are also rounded. The Temple was inaugurated on the 8th of Tishrei, but destroyed on the 9th of Av, while construction on the Second Temple began in Iyar. 

Thus, the total years that the Tabernacle stood and there was an issur bamoth is 369 + 39 = 408, while there were 14 + 57 = 71 years of the Tabernacle’s history that there was a hetter bamoth.

The First Temple stood for 410 incomplete years of issur bamoth, and lay in ruins for 70 years. I have not seen any treatment of this strange, chronological symmetry.

Now, I find it very interesting that the Daat Mikra and other modern-day commentaries struggle to positively identify the location of Nov. Unlike other major Biblical locations, there is still no consensus as to where Nov was. People visit Shiloh everyday, and if Gibeon were not in Area A, it would probably have many visitors. Where is Nov?

Further, I Samuel 21 describes Nov as both the home of the Tabernacle and as a priestly city, yet unlike Gibeon and Anathoth and the rest of the classical priestly cities within the territory of Benjamin, Nov is not on the lists as they appear in Joshua 21:17 and I Chronicles 6:45. When did Nov become a priestly city?

Next, I Samuel 22 describes how the women and children of Nov, the priests’ families, were also massacred. That is, unlike Shiloh and Jerualem, which the on-duty priests visited without bringing their families, who were left behind in their hometowns, Nov was apparently originally a priestly town even before the Tabernacle was brought there. Abiathar was the sole survivor of Nov, yet, when Solomon expelled him from Jerusalem and the priesthood, he commanded him to go back to “his field” in Anathoth. This is strange, because I would have expected Solomon to send Abiathar back to Nov, from which he had fled, and why would a priest own a field in a priestly city? The Levites and priests were given personal possession of the houses within the city, while the limited open areas around the cities were public spaces not owned by anyone!

Lastly, where does the name Nov come from, and what does it mean?

The answer to all of these questions is mentioned in the Zohar: Nov is Anathoth! That is why Gibeon and Anathoth are listed as priestly cities within Benjamin’s territory, but Nov is not, why the priests’ wives and children were also present in Nov, and how Abiathar as the sole survivor of the family that resided in Nov would eventually return to the ancestral fields that he came to possess in Anathoth. This also adds an ominous allusion to Jeremiah’s story (1:1): the prophet of the destruction of Jerusalem and its Sanctuary hailed from a town that had once housed the Sanctuary, and that had been destroyed and had its people massacred just like what would happen to Jerusalem. As we have written before, a prophet from, say, Shiloh, would not have been so ominous, because the destruction of Shiloh was not as tragic, because its holy vessels and treasures did not fall into enemy hands, and its people were evacuated before they could be slaughtered. 

At first I did not like this answer, because, as Prof. Elitzur pointed out to me, there is ample Biblical evidence that Nov was somewhere in the area of what is now Mt. Scopus/Shuafat, while Anatot is considerably farther to the north-west, but then he also pointed out to me that the modern-day settlement of Anatot/Almon which I had in mind is not the Biblical Anathoth. Rather, the Arab neighborhood of Anata is generally identified with Anathoth. 

It seems that the western end of Anata, northeast of where Highway 60 crosses Route 1 (just to the left of the red place marker on the map) is right about where Nov stood. I wonder if any particular place around there has been offered as a possible location for the Tabernacle? Considering that all of the Tabernacle’s components were moved intact to Gibeon, that King Saul had the place destroyed in his anger, and that the Tabernacle was not there for long, there might be very little archeological evidence remaining. I would imagine that Saul would have also ordered that no one ever again refer to the place as Nov. Thus, upon his return to Anathoth/Nov, Abiathar would not have found much of a city, but instead a large city-sized scene of desolation entirely belonging to him and his children, which they would build up anew. 

(Interestingly, the Zohar also rejects this opinion that identifies Nov with Anathoth, arguing that while Nov was a city, Anathoth was just a village. As Yehuda Kyl and others have pointed out, the Bible does refer to both towns as cities, so the Zohar’s rejection is itself denied.)

So why was Anathoth called Nov during Samuel’s time, if when it was first settled it was called Anathoth and then shortly thereafter reverted to Anathoth?

I believe the answer is that when Eli’s surviving family evacuated the Tabernacle from Shiloh to Nov, they had to find a place outside of their original city large enough to accommodate the Tabernacle and its courtyard and its other attendant facilities, and the many expected pilgrims, who, like Doeg himself, would need places to stay overnight after discharging their sacrificial obligations. They would have to put this new Temple-precinct to the west of the city, closer to the ancient highway that also served Shiloh to the north, the aforementioned Route 60 of today, and where the weather was more pleasant and the views prettier (the Judean Desert basically begins just to the east of Anata), and not within the areas designated by Torah law outside of the city for the Levites’ fields and vineyards and for open space, just like the Shiloh Sanctuary was erected outside of the walls of the ancient city. By the sages’ count, for about fourteen years, including the entire tenure of Samuel as Judge, this “New Anathoth” served as our people’s religious nucleus, and its name, like a handful of other words in the Bible (alon, m’cherotheihem, hein, hadar, amor, totafoth, etc.,) is borrowed from the ancient Mediterranean Languages; in Old Latin, as in Classical Latin, “nova” means “new.”

[1] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6lHPQvYX4A




Afikoman – “Stealing“ and Other Related Minhagim

Afikoman – “Stealing“ and Other Related Minhagim*
By Eliezer Brodt



One of the most exciting parts of Seder night for kids is the “stealing” of the afikoman. Children plan well in advance when the best time would be for them to steal it, where they will hide it, as well as what they should ask for in exchange for it. Not surprisingly, toy stores do incredibly good business both during Chol Hamoed and in the days following Pesach because of this minhag. In this article I would like to trace the early sources of this minhag and also discuss rabbinic responses to it.[1]



That the minhag of stealing the afikoman was observed widely in recent history is very clear. For example, Rebbetzin Ruchoma Shain describes how she stole the afikoman when she was young; her father, Rav Yaakov Yosef Herman, promised her a gift after Yom Tov in exchange for its return.[2] Raphael Patai describes similar memories from life in Budapest before World War II.[3] In another memoir about life in Poland before the war, we find a similar description,[4] and in Alexander Ziskind Hurvitz’s Yiddish memoir about life in Minsk in the 1860s, he writes that he stole the afikoman on the first night of Pesach, that his father gave him nuts in return, and that he was warned not to steal it on the second night.[5]



Interestingly, there were occasions when the stealing of the afikoman involved adults as well. For example, in his informative memoir about life in Lithuania in the 1880s, Benjamin Gordon describes stealing the afikoman with the help of his mother,[6] and going back a bit earlier, we find that Rav Eliezer Shlomo Schick from Hungary was encouraged by his mother to steal the afikoman and to ask his father for something in exchange.[7]



But even those who recorded this minhag occasionally referred to it in less than complimentary terms. For example, in 1824 a parody called the Sefer Hakundos (literally, the “Book of the Trickster”) was printed in Vilna,[8] which describes how the “trickster” has to steal the afikoman and claim that someone else stole it.[9] In fact, this custom is even found in the work of a meshumad printed in 1856.[10]



Opposition to the Minhag



Given the implication that this minhag not only encouraged stealing but actually rewarded children for doing so, there were many who opposed it, including the Chazon Ish,[11] the Steipler,[12] Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach,[13] the Lubavitcher Rebbe[14] and Rav Tzvi Shlezinger.[15] Rav Shemtob Gaguine writes that Sefardim do not have the custom of stealing the afikoman, and he explains that this is because it is forbidden to steal even as a joke since it encourages stealing.[16] And Rav Yosef Kapach writes that this was not the minhag in Teiman as it is forbidden to steal, even for a mitzvah.[17]



Rav Aron of Metz (1754-1836) protests against this minhag in his work Meorei Or, as the goyim will say that the Jews are trying to teach their children to steal, as they did in Mitzrayim.[18] The question is, what does he mean?



In the anonymous work of a meshumad printed in 1738, we find a detailed description of the stealing of the afikoman by the youngest child and how he tries to get a reward for it from his father. He writes that the reason for this minhag is to teach the child to remember what the Jews did in Mitzrayim—that they borrowed from the Egyptians and ran away with the items.[19] This was the concern of Rav Aron of Metz. It is possible that this is why Rabbi Yair Chaim Bacharach of Worms writes in Mekor Chaim that there is reason to abolish this minhag.



How far back can this minhag be traced, and what is the source for it?



In most of the Rishonim and early poskim, in describing the part of the Seder called Yachatz, we find mention of breaking the matzah. Some go so far as to say that the leader of the Seder puts it on his shoulders and walks a bit with it (others do this only later on, when they eat the afikoman).[20] Some mention putting it under a pillow to watch it,[21] but there is almost no mention of children stealing it. The earliest source for the custom of stealing the afikoman that I have located is the illustrated manuscript Ashkenazic Haggadah, known as the Second Nuremberg Haggadah, written between 1450 and 1500. On page 6b, the boy puts out his hand to get the afikoman from his father. Later on in the Haggadah (p. 26b), in the section called Tzafun, the leader asks for the afikoman that the boy had hidden.[22] However, in almost all the many works related to the Seder, we do not find such a custom mentioned.



Although it’s mentioned in the Second Nuremberg Haggadah, we do not find it mentioned again after that for many years. Worth noting, for example, is that in the famous illustrated Haggadah of Prague (1526), there is no mention or picture of such a thing.[23]



In the work Siach Yitzchak of Rav Yitzchak Chayes (1538-1610), which is a halachic work on the Seder night, first printed in 1587, there is mention of the stealing of the afikoman, but not exactly the way we do it today.[24]



Rabbi Yair Chaim Bacharach of Worms (1638-1702) writes in Mekor Chaim that the children had a custom to steal the afikoman.[25]



One of the earliest printed references can be found in the work Chok Yaakov on hilchos Pesach by Rabbi Yaakov Reischer (1660-1733), first printed in 1696 in Dessau. He wrote that in his area, children had the custom to steal the afikoman.[26]



Rav Yosef Yuzpha of Frankfurt also cites this custom in his Noheg Ketzon Yosef, first printed in 1717.[27] Rav Yaakov Emden (1698-1776) cites the custom as well.[28]



Where does this minhag come from? Many Acharonim[29] point to the Gemara (Pesachim 109a), which mentions that we are “chotef” the matzos on the night of Pesach for the children.[30] What does “chotef” mean in this context? The Rishonim offer different explanations.[31] The Rambam writes that on this night one has to make changes so that the children will notice and ask why this night is different, and one answers by explaining to them what happened. The Rambam adds that among the changes we make are giving out almonds and nuts, removing the table before we eat, and grabbing the matzah from each other.[32] Rabbeinu Manoach points to the Tosefta as the source for the Rambam that “chotef” means to grab.[33] Some Rishonim, quoting the Tosefta, write clearly that it means to steal.[34]



The truth is that, based on the Rambam, we can understand where this minhag came from. The night of Pesach is all about the children. The Seder night is a time when we do many “strange” things with one goal in mind—to get the children to notice and ask.[35] The purpose of this is to fulfill the main mitzvah of the night—sippur yetzias Mitzrayim. The mitzvah of zecher l’yetzias Mitzrayim lies behind many mitzvos. The reason for this, says the Chinuch, is that Yetzias Mitzrayim was testimony that there is a God Who runs the world, and that He can change what He wants when necessary, as he did in Mitzrayim.[36] Elsewhere, the Chinuch adds that the reason Yetzias Mitzrayim is related to so many mitzvos is that in doing a variety of activities with this concept in mind, we will internalize the importance of this historic event.[37]



“Strange” Things at the Seder



Following are some of the various minhagim that are intended simply to get the children to ask questions.



The Gemara (Pesachim 109a) mentions that they gave almonds and nuts so that the children should stay awake.[38] All the various aspects of the Karpas section of the Seder, according to many, are for the purpose of prompting them to ask[39] what’s going on—from washing before eating vegetables[40] to omitting a brachah on the washing,[41] dipping the vegetable into salt water, and eating less than a kezayis,[42] breaking the matzah at Yachatz,[43] lifting the ke’arah before saying “Ha Lachma Anya,”[44] switching to Hebrew at the end of “Ha Lachma Anya,”[45] removing the ke’arah before reciting the Haggadah[46] (or removal of the table), giving even the children four cups of wine, and pouring the second cup at the beginning of the Haggadah.[47] Although numerous reasons are given for these minhagim, one common reason is that they are intended to spark the children’s curiosity, which leads to a discussion of Mitzrayim and all the miracles that took place there.



According to the Rambam, this is what lies behind the stealing of the afikoman—it is yet one more thing that we do to get the children involved and prompt them to ask questions. All this can explain another strange custom. The Chida writes that at a Seder he attended during his travels, a servant circled the ke’arah around the head of each male at the Seder three times, similar to what many do during kaparos with a chicken.[48] There are even earlier sources for such a minhag.[49]



Additional Sources in Favor of “Stealing”



At the Seder of the Chofetz Chaim and his son-in-law, the children did steal the afikoman.[50] In Persia, we find that some had this custom as well.[51] Rav Yisroel Margolis Yafeh, a talmid of the Chasam Sofer, also defends the minhag of stealing the afikoman.[52]



Earlier, I mentioned that Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach was against stealing the afikoman. Interestingly enough, his rebbe, Rav Dovid Baharan Weisfish, did allow it.[53] Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl writes that he did not understand the reasoning of his rebbe, Rav Shlomo Zalman, since it did not encourage the children to steal but simply helped them stay awake.[54]



There is a much earlier work that offers a similar premise. Rav Yosef Yuzpa of Frankfurt writes in his work Noheg Ketzon Yosef that one should not discontinue the minhag that children steal the afikoman and get something in return from their father, as this keeps them awake and they discuss Yetzias Mitzrayim.[55] And as far as the argument that stealing is never permitted, Rabbi Weingarten points to Hilchos Purim, in which we find that some level of damage is permissible for the sake of simchas Yom Tov.[56]



Other Reasons for This Custom[57]


Rabbi Yair Chaim Bacharach of Worms writes in Mekor Chaim that the reason for custom is to teach children to cherish the mitzvos.



Related to all of this is an interesting teshuvah in the anonymous work Shu”t Torah Lishmah. The author was consulted by a talmid chacham who had visited a family on the Seder night, and the head of the household put out a stack of matzah before beginning the recital of the Haggadah so that everyone could recite it over a piece of matzah. When he brought out the matzah, everyone ran to grab a piece. The guest was upset about this, and they explained to him that the purpose was to demonstrate their love for the mitzvah. The guest felt that it was an embarrassment to the mitzvah to act in such a coarse way; in addition, there is an issue not to grab bread greedily. The author of Torah Lishmah pointed to the Gemara in Chullin (133a), which suggests that since they were doing it to show their love for the mitzvah, it was not a problem.[58]



Rav Moshe Wexler, in Birkas Moshe (1902), gives a simple reason for this minhag. We are concerned that we will forget to eat the afikoman; what better way to remember than to have a child remind you since he wants to get his reward?[59]



Deeper Message Behind the Minhag



One last idea about this minhag, which is very much worth quoting, comes from Rabbi Shimon Schwab:



“I personally do not care for the term ‘stealing the matzah.’ It is un-Jewish to steal—even the afikoman! The prohibition against theft includes even if it is done as a prank (see Bava Metzia 61b)… Notwithstanding the fact that children taking the afikoman is not stealing because it is not removed from the premises, it would still be the wrong chinuch to call it ‘stealing.’ Rather, I would call it ‘hiding the matzah,’ to be used later as the afikoman, which is called ‘hidden.’



“There is an oft-quoted saying, although not found in any original halachic source, that all Jewish minhagim have a deep meaning… Thoughtful Jewish parents of old, in playing with their children, always incorporated a Torah lesson into their children’s games. Similarly, the minhag of yachatz, whereby we break the matzah into a larger and smaller piece, with each being used for its special purpose, is also deeply symbolic. The smaller piece, the lechem oni, the poor man’s bread, is left on the Seder plate, along with the maror and charoses. However, the larger piece is hidden away for the afikoman by the children, who who will ask for a reward for its return, and it is then eaten at the end of the meal.



“I heard a beautiful explanation for the symbolism of this minhag from my father. He explained that the smaller piece of matzah, the lechem oni, represents Olam Hazeh, with all its trials and tribulations. This piece is left on the Seder plate along with the maror and charoses, reflecting life in this world, with all its sweet and bitter experiences. However, the larger, main piece, which is hidden away during the Seder, to be eaten after the meal as the afikoman, represents Olam Haba, which is hidden from us during our lives in this world. The eating of this piece after the meal, when one is satiated, is symbolic of our reward in Olam Haba, which can be obtained only if we have first satiated ourselves in this world with a life of Torah and mitzvos. The children’s request for a reward before giving up the afikoman is symbolic of our reward in Olam Haba, which is granted to us by Hakadosh Baruch Hu if we have earned it.”[60]



There is an additional widespread custom of saving a piece of the afikoman for after Pesach.[61] Where does this minhag come from?



In her memoirs, Pauline Wengeroff (b. 1833 in Minsk) wrote: “In some Jewish homes, a single round matzah was hung on the wall by a little thread and left there as a memento.”[62] Mention of this custom is found in the work of a meshumad printed in 1794,[63] and another from 1856.[64] Chaim Hamberger also describes witnessing someone breaking off a piece of the afikoman and saving it as a segulah.[65] The Munkatcher Rebbe used to give out a piece of the afikoman, which some would save for the entire year.[66] In Persia, some also had the custom of saving a piece of the afikoman.[67]



In a book[68] filled with humor, which received a haskamah from Rav Chaim Berlin, a rich man complains to his friend that the mice are eating his clothes. His friend suggests that he sprinkle the clothes with the crumbs of the afikoman that he saves each year. He guarantees that the mice will not eat the clothes as the halachah is that one cannot eat anything after the afikoman!



In an even earlier source, the Magen Avraham—Rav Avrohom Gombiner’s classic work on the Shulchan Aruch, first printed in 1692—he makes a cryptic statement in Hilchos Yom Tov (not in Hilchos Pesach) in a discussion of making holes in meat, saying that one should hang the afikoman in such a way that he can make a hole in it with a knife.[69] What is he referring to?



Rabbi Yaakov Reischer (1660-1733), in Chok Yaakov on hilchos Pesach, first printed in 1696, writes that there is a custom to break off a piece of the afikoman and hang it, and he points to this Magen Avraham as proof.[70] Neither of these sources gives us insight into the reason for the practice, but it is clear that it is a segulah done with the afikoman.



The answer may be found in another work of Rabbi Yaakov Reischer. He was asked about his thoughts on the Kitzur Shlah, who writes that there is a problem with hanging the afikoman since it is a bizayon [disgrace] for the food, which is a halachic issue.[71] Rav Reischer says that it is not an issue since it serves to remind us of Yetzias Mitzrayim. He adds that his father and teachers observed this custom.[72]



Rabbi Yair Chaim Bacharach of Worms also writes that the reason for the minhag to hang a piece of the afikoman is zecher l’yetzias Mitzrayim.[73]



But why isn’t there an issue of bizui ochlin? Perhaps we can understand it based on Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl’s[74] explanation of the general issur of bizui ochlin, which is that bread is a special gift that Hashem gives us from Olam Haba so it is prohibited to use it in an embarrassing way. However, here one is using it for the mitzvah of zecher l’yetzias Mitzrayim, so maybe that’s why Rav Reisher held that it was not an issue.



From these sources it appears that hanging the matzah has nothing to do with any segulah but is simply zecher l’yetzias Mitzrayim.



The Kitzur Shlah, however, suggests that if one wants to observe this minhag, he should not hang the piece of afikoman but should carry it around with him. He adds that this segulah is a protection from thieves.[75] Rabbi Yair Chaim Bacharach of Worms also mentions that the piece of afikoman is a segulah for protection when traveling, but he does not quote a source for this.



In other early segulah sefarim, we find different segulos associated with the afikoman. In a rare work first printed in 1646, we find that it protects one from mazikim. At the end of the same work, the author writes that it can protect one from drowning at sea[76]; Rav Binyamin Baal Shem makes the same statement.[77] Rabbi Zechariah Simnar’s Sefer Zechirah, first printed in 1709, states that the piece of afikoman protects one from mazikim. This last source is an additional reason for the widespread observance of the custom because the sefer was extremely popular in its time and was reprinted over 40 times.[78]



One famous personality who actually used this segulah was Sir Moses Montefiore. When he found himself in the midst of a terrible storm, he cast a piece of afikoman into the sea. His family used to commemorate this miracle each year.[79]



In the anonymous work of a meshumad printed in 1738, he says it is used to ward off the evil eye.[80] Rav Yisachar Shlomo Teichtal has a very interesting teshuvah on this segulah. He writes that in the Shulchan Aruch it appears that the afikoman has all the dinim of the korban Pesach; with that comes the problem of leaving behind even one piece. He says that one should leave a piece behind for this segulah only from the matzah of the second night. He says that the people in Eretz Yisrael should save a regular piece of matzah. He then cites the Yosef Ometz, who writes that he made sure not to lose one crumb of the afikoman, so how could one possibly save a piece for the entire year?[81] His suggestion at the end is that it is better to save a regular piece of matzah.



Rav Chaim Hakohen, a talmid of Rav Chaim Vital, writes in his work Tur Barekes that there is a special segulah to save and hang a piece of matzah for the entire year and that it protects one from mazikim.[82] This practice is also cited in the very popular anonymous work Chemdas Yamim, which was first printed in 1731.8[3] Rabbi Moshe Chagiz (1671-1751) writes the same about the segulah, [84] as does Rav Dunner.[85] All of these sources appear to say that the segulah is not specifically associated with a piece of the afikoman.



Until 2010, these was the array of earlier sources known for this custom. In 2010, a fascinating manuscript of Rav Chaim Vital (1543-1620) was printed for the first time—Sefer Hape’ulos.[86]



Rav Chaim Vital is best known in the realm of Kabbalah; he was the primary student of the Arizal, entrusted with disseminating his teacher’s works.



What makes Sefer Hape’ulos especially interesting is that we see Rav Chaim Vital in a different light than he was previously known. In the first part of this work we see him as a doctor of sorts. He provides remedies to people for all kinds of illnesses—asthma, infertility, headaches, toothaches and many other conditions. Much of his advice was based on segulos and the like. In this work, he shows a familiarity with medical procedures of that period. He quotes advice that he had read in various medical works. There is also a section on alchemy.



The whereabouts of the actual manuscript are a mystery.



Rumors are that it is being sold page by page as segulah, and each page fetches a large sum of money. But copies of the manuscript are accessible on various databases.



In this work, Rav Chaim Vital writes that to calm the sea in a storm, one should take a kezayis of the afikoman and throw it into the sea.[87]



According to this statement, we see that Rav Vital does not agree with the sources saying that the afikoman should be regarded as regular matzah. Furthermore, we see that he was not concerned with Rav Teichtal’s issues as he was in Eretz Yisrael and he still said the afikoman should be used.



Burning With the Chametz



One last aspect of the treatment of the afikoman comes from Rav Schick, who says that since the afikoman is eaten as a zecher of the korban Pesach, we should keep a piece of it to burn with the chametz in order to remind us that any leftovers of the korban Pesach were to be burned.[88] Rav Dunner did the same.[89] The aforementioned work of a meshumad, printed in 1856,[90] mentions this aspect of the custom.



* A version of this article was printed in April of last year in Ami Magazine.


[1] For sources on this topic that helped me prepare this article R’ Moshe Katz, Vayaged Moshe, pp. 118-120; R’ Moshe Weingarten, Seder Ha-Aruch 1 (1991), pp. 336-338; R’ Y. Lieberman, Chag Hamatzos, pp. 458-460; R’ Avrohom Feldman, Halacha Shel Pesach, pp. 299-302; R’ Chaim David Halevi, Shonah Bishonah (1986), pp. 144-148; R’ Tuviah Freund, Moadim Li-Simcha (Pesach), pp. 340-354 [=Tzohar 2 (1998, pp. 196-206]; Pardes Eliezer, pp. 158-172; S. Reiskin, Yedah Ha-Am, 69-70 (2010), pp. 114-121 [Thanks to R’ Menachem Silber for this source]. See also, R’ Melamed, Hadoar 69 (1990), pp. 13-14.
[2] Ruchoma Shain, All for the Boss, (Young readers edition) (2008), pp. 6-7.
[3] Raphael Patai, Apprentice in Budapest: Memories of a world that is no more (1988), p. 156.
[4] Norman Salsitz, A Jewish Boyhood in Poland: Remembering Kolbuszowa (1999), pp. 166-167.
[5] A. Z. Hurvitz, Zichronot Fun Tzvei Dorot (1935), p. 138.
[6] Benjamin Lee Gordon, Between Two Worlds: The Memoirs of a Physician (2011), p. 24.
[7] R’ Shlomo Tzvi Schueck, Seder Haminhagim, (1880) p. 69b. About R’ Schueck, see Adam Ferziger, “The Hungarian Orthodox Rabbinate and Zionism: The Case of R. Salamon Zvi Schück”, Eleventh World Congress of Jewish Studies (Jerusalem, Israel, July 1993). I hope to return to him in a future piece.
[8] See the critical edition of this work printed in 1997, p. 67.
[9] P. 64.
[10] H. Baer, Ceremonies of Modern Judaism (1856), p. 149.
[11] R’ Z. Yavrov (ed.), Ma’aseh Ish Vol. 5 (2001), p. 19.
[12] R’ A. L. Horovitz (ed.), Orchos Rabbeinu Vol. 2 ( p. 78.
[13] R’ Y. Turner & R’ A. Auerbach (ed.), Halichos Shlomo (Moadei Hashanah: Nissan-Av) (2007) p. 260; R’ T. Freund, Shalmei Moed, (2004) p.400.
[14] R’ M. M. Schneersohn, Haggadah Shel Pesach Im Likutei Tamim Vol. 1 (2014), p. 11. See also p. 179.
[15] R’ Y. Shlezinger, Meorot Yitzchak (2012) p. 345.
[16] R’ S. Gaguine, Keser Shem Tov Vol. 3 (1948), p. 176.
[17] Halichos Teiman (1968), p. 22. See also, R’ Razabi, Hagadah Pri Etz Chaim, p. 337-338; R’ Harari, Mikroei Kodesh, p. 209.
[18] Meorei Or, Od Lomoed, p. 178a. The Orchos Chaim (Spinka). 473:19 quotes this piece. See R’ Yisachar Tamar, Alei Tamar, Moed 1, p. 311. On this work see the important article of Yakov Speigel, Yerushaseinu 3 (2009, pp. 269-309. About this specific piece see Ibid, pp. 279-289; R’ Dovid Zvi Hillman, Yeshurun 25 (2011), p. 620.
[19] Gamliel Ben Pedahzur, The Book of Religion, Ceremonies and Prayers of the Jews, London 1738, pp. 54-55. On this work see C. Roth, Personalities and Events in Jewish History, pp.87-90, David B. Ruderman, Jewish Enlightenment in an English Key, Princeton University Press 2000, pp. 242-49.
[20] See Hanaghot HaMarshal, pp. 10-11; Magen Avraham, 473:22; Chidushel Dinim Mei-Hilchos Pesach, p. 38. See Rabbi Chaim Benveniste, Pesach Meuvin, 315; Vayagid Moshe, pp. 116-117. There are numerous sources for putting on short skits at the seder I hope to return to this in the future.
[21] See Rabbi Yechiel Heller, Or Yisharim, p. 3b; R’ Reuven Margolis, Haggdas Baer Miriam (2002), p, 26.
[22] The Haggadah is now online here (http://jnul.huji.ac.il/dl/mss-pr/mss_d_0076/). See Bezalel Narkiss and Gabriella Sed-Rajna article about this Hagdah available there. Thanks to Rabbi Mordechai Honig for pointing me to this source.
[23] On this haggadah see Y. Yudolov, Otzar Haggadas, p. 2, # 7-8. See also Rabbi Charles Wengrov, Haggadah and Woodcut, (1967), pp, 69-71; the introduction to the 1965 reprint of this Haggadah; Yosef Yerushalmi, Haggadah and History, plate 13; See also Yosef Tabori, Mechkarim Betoldos Halacha (forthcoming), pp. 461-474. I hope to return to this Hagdah in a future article.
[24] Sich Yitzchack, p. 21a. About this Gaon see the Introduction of R’ Adler in his recent edition of his Pnei Yitzchchak- Apei Ravrivi.
[25] Mekor Chaim, Siman 477. This incredible work was first printed from manuscript in 1988.
[26] Chok Yaakov, 472:2. About him see S. Shilah, Asufot 11 (1998), pp. 65-86.
[27] Noheg Ketzon Yosef, p. 222.
[28] See his siddur, volume 2, p. 48. This comment is from the recent additions printed from the manuscript of his siddur.
[29] The first to tie it to this Gemarah was Chok Yakov (1696), R’ Yakov Emden; R’ Yedidya Thia Weil, Marbeh Lisaper, (1791), p. 7a; R’ Shimon Sofer (son of the Chasam Sofer), Mectav Sofer p. 110b; R’ Tzvi Segal, Likutei Tzvi, (1866) p. 28; R’ Shlomo Tzvi Schueck, Seder Haminhaghim, (1880) p. 69b; Sefer Matamim, p. 154; Meir Ish Sholom, Meir Ayin Al Seder Vehagadah Shel Leli Pesach, (1895), p. 34; Rabbi Yeshayah Singer, Mishneh Zichron, (1913) p. 180; R. Avraham Eliezer Hershkowitz, Otzar Kol Minhaghei Yeshrun (St. Louis, 1918), p. 136. See also Daniel Goldschmidt, Haggadah Shel Pesach (1948), p. 22 [This piece does not appear in his later edition]. See the interesting Teshuvah on this from R’ Munk, Pas Sudecha, Siman 51.
[30] Related to this, see Shu”t Torah Lishmah, #138 where he describes a custom on the Seder night.
[31] See Rashi; Rashbam; Riaz.
[32] Rambam, Chometz Umatzah 7:3.
[33] See R’ Saul Lieberman’s Tosefta Kifshuto, Pesachim, p. 653; R’ Yisachar Tamar, Alei Tamar, Moed 1, p. 311; Meir Ish Sholom, Meir Ayin Al Seder Vehagadah Shel Leli Pesach, (1895), pp. 34-35; Yosef Tabori, Pesach Dorot, p. 254; Shmuel & Zev Safrai, Haggadas Chazal, (1998), pp. 47-48.
[34] See Rashbam; Sefer HaMichtam; Maharam Halewa; Rabbenu Yerchem; Meiri. See also Ri Melunel and the Nimukei Yosef. See also Mahril, p. 114.
[35] This topic is dealt with at great length in Rabbi Mordechai Breuer’s Pirkei Mo’adot, pp. 171-192; Shama Friedman, Tosefta Atiktah, pp. 439-446. See also Rabbi Yosef Dubovick’s unpublished paper on the topic [many thanks to him for making it available to me]. See also Hagada Shel Pesach, Mesivtah, pp. 101-107. For more on this see the excellent recent work of Dovid Henshke, Ma Nishtna (2016), pp.271-299, 397-405.
[36]. See Chinuch Mitzvah 10.
[37] Chinuch Mitzvah 20.
[38] See R’ Chaim Berlin, Nishmat Chaim, p. 179. Yechezkel Kotik describes in his memoirs (Ma She’ra’iti, p. 164) getting nuts on Erev Pesach. See also Pauline Wengeroff, Rememberings, p. 44 who also describes getting nutson Pesach.
[39] See R’ Chaim Berlin, Shut Nishmat Chaim (Bei Brak), Siman 50.
[40] Chock Yakov, 473:28 see also Mahril, p. 98; Yosef Tabori, Pesach Dorot, (1996), pp. 212-244; R’ Yosef Schachar, Hod Vhadar Kevodo, pp. 124-125 [A Letter of Rabbi Chaim Berlin]; my Bein Keseh La-asur, pp. 148-153.
[41] See Yosef Tabori, Pesach Dorot, ibid.
[42] See Drasha of the Rokeach, p. 97
[43] Seder Hayom, p. 153
[44] Drasha of the Rokeach, p.98.
[45] Drasha of the Rokeach, p.98.
[46] See Drasha of the Rokeach, p. 9. But see Magan Avrhom 473:25 and Chock Yakov 473:33.
[47] See Magan Avrhom, 473:27; Seder Haaruch, 1, p. 388-390.
[48] Maagal Tov, pp. 62. On this work see my article in Yeshurun 26 (2012) pp. 853-874 and my earlier article in Ami Magazine, September 27, 2012 Is the Zoo Kosher?
[49] See the collection of sources in Rabbi Tovia Preshel, Or Yisroel 15 (1999),pp. 149-151; Rabbi Yisroel Dandorovitz, Yechalek Shalal (2014), pp. 92-98. It appears that the Barcelona Haggadah, produced after 1350, is the earliest record of the custom to place the Seder Plate on someone’s head during the recitation of Ha Lahma Anya [Thanks to Dan Rabnowitz for this source].
[50] Hagadas HaGershuni, p. 58
[51] Yehudei Poras, pp. 25, 26-27.
[52] Shut Mili D’avos (3:14).
[53] Orech Dovid, p. 107
[54] Hagadah Yerushlyim Bemoadeah,p. 55. See also R’ Harari, Mikroei Kodesh, p. 209
[55] Noheg Ketzon Yosef, p. 222.
[56] Seder Haaruch 1, p. 338. However see the Aruch Hashulchan 696:10 who says today we are not on such a level.
[57] For additional reasons see R’ Shimon Sofer (son of the Chasam Sofer), Mectav Sofer p. 110b; R’ Yisroel Margolis Yafeh, Shut Mili D’avos (3:14); Rabbi Yeshayah Singer, Mishneh Zichron, (1913) p.67a.
[58] Shut Torah Lishma, #138. On this work see: M. Koppel, D. Mughaz and N. Akiva (2006), New Methods for Attribution of Rabbinic Literature Hebrew Linguistics: A Journal for Hebrew Descriptive, Computational and Applied Linguistics; M. Koppel, J. Schler and E. Bonchek-Dokow (2007), Measuring Differentiability: Unmasking Pseudonymous Authors, JMLR 8, July 2007, pp.1261-1276; R’ Y. Liba, Shevet MeYehudah, pp. 213-236; R’ Yakov Hillel, Ben Ish Chai (2011), pp. 410-422; (excellent) intro-
duction to the new edition of this work; Levi Cooper, A Bagdadi Mystery: Rabbi Yosef Chaim and Torah Lishmah, JEL 14;1 (2015), pp 54-60.
[59] Birchat Moshe, pp. 15-16
[60] Rav Schwab on Prayer, pp. 542-543.
[61] R’ Menachem Kasher, Torah Shlemah, 12:286; Rabbi Moshe Weingarten, Seder Ha-Aruch 2 pp.244-245; Pardes Eliezer, pp.172-179. The most recent discussion of this custom is by R’ Bentzion Eichorn where he devoted a complete work called Simchat Zion (2008) (73 pps.) devoted to the many aspects of this minhag. See also D. Sperber, The Jewish Life Cycle, p. 585.
[62] Rememberings, p. 45.
[63] H. Isaacs, Ceremonies, Customs Rites and Traditions of the Jews, London 1794, pp. 111.
[64] H. Baer, Ceremonies of Modern
Judaism, Nashville 1856, p. 149.
[65] Tzefunot 11 (1991), p.97.
[66] Darchei Chaim Ushalom, pp. 193-194.
[67] Yehudei Poras, p.27.
[68] Osem Bosem, p. 35.
[69] Siman 500:7. For a possible early source for this dating to 1550 see Y. Yuval, Two nations in your Womb, p.245.
[70] Chok Yakov, 477:3.
[71] Kitzur Hashilah, p. 67a. See Hatzofeh Lichochmas Yisroel 9 (1925), pp.235-241 for an additional problem with observing this custom.
[72] Shut Shevous Yakov, 3:52.
[73] Mekor Chaim, Siman 477.
[74] Yerushalayim BeModeah (Purim), p. 258.
[75][76] Derech HaYashar, p. 8, p. 42.
[77] Amtachas Binyomin, p. 18.
[78] Sefer Zechira, p. 271. On this work see my Likutei Eliezer, pp. 13-25.
[79] See Cecil Roth, Personalities and Events in Jewish History, p. 85. See also Abigail Green, Moses Montefiore: Jewish Liberator, Imperial Hero (Cambridge, Mass. Harvard University Press, 2010, pp. 82-83 and 447 n.104. [Thanks to Menachem Butler for this last source].
[80] Gamliel Ben Pedahzur, The Book of Religion, Ceremonies and Prayers of the Jews, London 1738, p.78. Earlier on p. 55 he mentions some carry it with them as a segulah when traveling to stop a storm.
[81] Mishnat Sachir, # 122.
[82] See also R’ Dovid Zechut, Zecher Dovid, 3:27, p. 183.
[83] Chemdas Yomim, Pesach, p. 26 b. On this work see my Likutei Eliezer, p. 2.
[84] Eleh hamitzvos 19, p. 58.
[85] Minhagehi Mahritz Halevi, p. 167-168.
[86] On this work see Gerrit Boss, extensive article “Hayyim Vital’s Practical kabbalah and Alchemy; a 17th Century book of secrets” in the Journal of Jewish Thought and Philosophy, Volume 4, pp. 54-112. See also my Likutei Eliezer, pp.46-89.
[87] Sefer Hape’olot p. 241. In 2015 a beautiful haggadah, Hagaddas Medrash BiChodesh, (2015), was printed for the first time of R’ Eliezer Foah (died 1658) talmid of the Remah Mi Pano where he also brings this segulah of throwing it in to the sea (pp. 19-20). The editor incorrectly writes that this is the first source for this segulah.
[88] Siddur Rashban, 33b.
[89] Minhagehi Mahritz Halevi, p. 167-168.
[90] H. Baer, Ceremonies of Modern Judaism, Nashville 1856, p. 149.



Reflecting on When the Arukh haShulhan on Orach Chaim was Actually Written

Reflecting on When the Arukh haShulhan on Orach Chaim was Actually Written: Citations of the Mishnah Berurah in the Arukh haShulhan

Michael J. Broyde & Shlomo C. Pill

Rabbi Michael Broyde is a Professor of Law at Emory University School of Law and the Projects Director at the Emory University Center for the Study of Law and Religion.  Rabbi Dr. Shlomo Pill is a Visiting Assistant Professor of Jewish, Islamic, and American Law and Religion at Emory University’s Candler School of Theology and a Senior Fellow at the Emory University Center for the Study of Law and Religion.  They are writing a work titled “Setting the Table: An Introduction to the Jurisprudence of Rabbi Yechiel Mikhel Epstein’s Arukh Hashulchan” (Academic Studies Press, forthcoming 2020).

We post this now to note our celebration of the publication of תערוך לפני שלחן: חייו, זמנו ומפעלו של הרי”מ עפשטיין בעל ערוך השלחן (“Set a Table Before Me: The Life, Time, and Work of Rabbi Yehiel Mikhel Epstein, Author of the Arukh HaShulchan” (see here) (Maggid Press, 2019), by Rabbi Eitam Henkin, הי”ד.  Like many others, we were deeply saddened by his and his wife Naamah’s murder on October 1, 2015.  We draw some small comfort in seeing that the fruits of his labors still are appearing.

According to Rabbi Eitam Henkin הי”ד in his recently published book on the life and works of Rabbi Yechiel Mikhel Epstein, the first volume of the Arukh Hashulchan on Orach Chaim covering chapters 1-241 was published in 1903; the second volume addressing chapters 242-428 was published in 1907; and the third volume covering chapters 429-697 was published right after Rabbi Epstein’s death in 1909.[1] Others confirm these publication dates.[2]

The Mishnah Berurah, Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan’s commentary on the Orach Chaim section of the Shulchan Arukh was published in six parts, with each appearing at different times over twenty-three-year period.  Volume one was published in 1884, volume three in 1891, volume two appeared in 1895, volume four in 1898, volume five was published in 1902, and volume six in 1907.

We suspect that while the first volume of the Arukh Hashulchan on Orach Chaim did not appear until 1903, Rabbi Epstein wrote this work some time before this, and its publication and was delayed for economic and government censorship reasons. Rabbi Eitam Henkin notes (in the above biography) that Rabbi Epstein made mention of the very difficult time he had finding the funds to publish his work. Rabbi Epstein himself wrote in an 1886 letter, “to my great distress, I am unable to publish [the next installment of the Arukh Hashulchan] due to the lack of funding . . . publishing is exceedingly expensive.”[3] The high cost of publishing and limited funding actually led to Rabbi Epstein’s initially publishing the Arukh Hashulchan in numerous short pamphlets, each covering just a few of the Shulchan Arukh’s topic headings, rather than in larger volumes.  Eventually, as funds became available, these pamphlets were combined into larger volumes, organized around the “four-pillars” framework of halakhah used by other rabbinic jurists since Rabbi Karo.[4] Likewise, Rabbi Henkin uncovered correspondence in which Rabbi Epstein bemoaned that long-before completed manuscripts of the Arukh Hashulchan were languishing in St. Petersburg awaiting review and approval by Russian government censors.[5]

Appreciating the realities of the funding- and censorship-related delays with which Rabbi Epstein had to contend helps rectify what Rabbi Meir Bar-Ilan described as Rabbi Epstein’s furiously productive writing schedule with the nearly four decade span between when he began writing the Arukh Hashulchan in 1870 and the publication of the final volume of Arukh Hashulchan: Orach Chaim in 1909 (and other volumes considerably after his death by his daughter[6]). Rabbi Meir Bar Ilan described his grandfather’s process as follows:

My grandfather sat each day in the room designated as the local rabbinic courtroom together with his two rabbinic judge colleagues from morning until night, save for two hours in the afternoons . . . He sat at his table with a chair next to him upon which he kept four books related to the topic he was currently dealing with: a volume of Maimonides’ Mishnah Torah, a volume of the Arbah Turim, the Shulchan Arukh, and a small edition of the Talmud.  And thus, looking here and there, he wrote his book, Arukh Hashulchan, page after page.  Occasionally, he would get up and take out another book to look at . . . This book, the Arukh Hashulchan, which is foremost in its genre, was printed directly from the first draft manuscripts, exactly as they were initially produced by the author . . . without edits, erasures, or rewrites.[7]

Even if somewhat hyperbolic in its recollection, the pace of work described by Rabbi Meir Bar-Ilan certainly does not suggest that the writing of the Arukh Hashulchan would have taken more than thirty years. It is likely that the text of Rabbi Epstein’s monumental restatement of halakhah was written and prepared long before it finally appeared in print.[8]

So, when was the Arukh Hashulchan on Orach Chaim actually written? We suspect it was written after 1891 and before 1895.

As noted, the first volume of the Mishnah Berurah was published in 1884, and the Arukh Hashulchan cites it thirteen times.  Mishnah Berurah volume three was published seven years’ later in 1891 and is also cited by the Arukh Hashulchan—in this case, twelve times.  The Arukh Hashulchan cites none of the other four volumes of the Mishnah Berurah, however, which indicates that Rabbi Epstein did not have them.  That would indicate that Rabbi Epstein had completed his manuscript of Arukh Hashulchan on Orach Chaim before the 1895 when the next installment of the Mishnah Berurah appeared. We see in Rabbi Eitam Henkin’s work (p. 312) that he proposes a similar observation, and we are gratified that he shares this inference. While over a decade would pass before the Arukh Hashulchan on Orach Chaim was fully published, and while by this time the Mishnah Berurah, too, was in print in its entirety, Rabbi Meir Bar-Ilan’s account of Rabbi Epstein’s writing process suggests that once written, the Arukh Hashulchan manuscripts were not significantly revisited or edited by Rabbi Epstein. It is not surprising, then, that the Arukh Hashulchan on Orach Chaim does not include references to sections of the Mishnah Berurah that appeared only after 1895.

We are aware of 36 (or 37, if one counts the double reference in number 5, below) references to the Mishnah Berurah in the Arukh Hashulchan[9] none of which are particularly important to the work, and only in one of them (319:22) does the Arukh Hashulchan seem to be actually reacting to something that the Mishnah Berurah directly cited in his own name.  The citations to the Mishnah Berurah in the Arukh Hashulchan themselves generally look like (to quote Rabbi Bar-Ilan) “another book to look at.”  Furthermore, it only looks like he did so in certain areas deeply and other areas much less.  There are six quoted in hilkhot tzitizit, one in hilkhot tefillin, two in hilkhot shema, four citations over three simanim in hilkhot tefilla, and then occasional references scattered throughout hilkhot Shabbat.  This sparse citing suggests that the Arukh Hashulchan neither studied the Mishnah Berurah, nor is responding to it systemically.  So to, the only explanation for the lack of citation to volumes two, four, five and six is that Rabbi Epstein did not have them at the time he was producing his manuscript of the Arukh Hashulchan on Orach Chaim. (We see that Rabbi Eitam Henkin, in his work makes a similar observation on pages 311-313.)

Below is a list of all the cases we are aware of in which the Arukh Hashulchan actually has and cites and quotes this Mishnah Berurah.

  1. Arukh HaShulchan 10:4 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 10 s.v. veyesh lah.
  2. Arukh HaShulchan 10:7 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 10 s.v. ela im ken.
  3. Arukh HaShulchan 10:8 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 10 s.v. veain lah kenafot.
  4. Arukh HaShulchan 11:8 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 11 s.v. vehu.
  5. Arukh HaShulchan 11:22 contains a reference to both Mishnah Berurah 11:27 and 11:29 and the Biur Halakhah, which explains this.
  6. Arukh HaShulchan 12:4 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 12 s.v. im nepseku.
  7. Arukh HaShulchan 14:5 contains two references to Biur Halakhah 14 s.v. hetil yisrael.
  8. Arukh HaShulchan 25:23 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 25 s.v. vehakhi nohug.
  9. Arukh HaShulchan 25:26 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 44.
  10. Arukh HaShulchan 62:3 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 62 s.v. yachol lekrotah bekhol lashon.
  11. Arukh HaShulchan 76:21 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah s.v. kara bemakom.
  12. Arukh HaShulchan 76:4 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 77:8.
  13. Arukh HaShulchan 79:11 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 5.
  14. Arukh HaShulchan 79:17 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 79:29 or Biur Halakhah s.v. aval chalul.
  15. Arukh HaShulchan 87:7 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 9.
  16. Arukh HaShulchan 89:23 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 89:22.
  17. Arukh HaShulchan 89:24 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 89:24 and Biur Halakhah s.v. vekhen okhlin umashkin.
  18. Arukh HaShulchan 91:3 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 91 s.v. hoyil vekhisah.
  19. Arukh HaShulchan 91:4 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 91 s.v. yatza.
  20. Arukh HaShulchan 245:8 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 245:23.
  21. Arukh HaShulchan 247:13 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 247:18.
  22. Arukh HaShulchan 262:4 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 262:12.
  23. Arukh HaShulchan 263:19 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 263:49.
  24. Arukh HaShulchan 268:6 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 268 s.v. veshelo bekavanah.
  25. Arukh HaShulchan 271:30 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah s.v. vehu rubo.
  26. Arukh HaShulchan 275:2 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 275 s.v. leor haner.
  27. Arukh HaShulchan 301:122 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 301:176–177.
  28. Arukh HaShulchan 302:32 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 303:87-88.
  29. Arukh HaShulchan 302:9 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 301:2, 10, 11 and Biur Halakhah s.v. shaveh aleha.
  30. Arukh HaShulchan 306:22 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 306:16 and Biur Halakhah s.v. beketav shelahem.
  31. Arukh HaShulchan 319:19 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 319 s.v. le’ekhol meyad.
  32. Arukh HaShulchan 319:22 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 319:21 and Biur Halakhah s.v. beshinui.
  33. Arukh HaShulchan 321:10 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 321:37–38.
  34. Arukh HaShulchan 328:39 contains a reference to Mishnah Berurah 328:145.
  35. Arukh HaShulchan 330:7 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah s.v. kol sheloshah yamim.
  36. Arukh HaShulchan 336:21 contains a reference to Biur Halakhah 336 s.v. mutar lelakh.

A question that can only be speculated about is whether the Arukh HaShulchan is ever responding without citation to the Mishnah Berurah (for example, in the case of married women and hair covering in the synagogue in Orach Chayim 75).  Rabbi Eitam Henkin (p. 314) quotes the famous observation of this father, Rabbi Yehuda Herzl Henkin in Shut Benai Banim 2:18 that there are countless times where the Aruch HaShulchan is responding, without citing, the Mishnah Berurah.  Rabbi Eitam Henkin then provides a list of such possible cases.

[1] See Rabbi Eitam Henkin, Ta’arokh Lifanai Shulchan: Chayo Zemano U’mepa’alo Shel Harav Yechiel Mikhel Epstein Baal Arukh Hashulchan, pp. 245-246.

[2] See as well the following article by Rabbi Eitam Henkin where he makes this claim as well:

 ‘ספרי ערוך השלחן – סדר כתיבתם והדפסתם’, חצי גבורים – פליטת סופרים, ז (תשע”ד), עמ’ תקטו-תקלו

Copies of the first editions can be found in the Hebrew University Library.

[3] Kitvei Ha-Arukh Hashulchan, no. 104.

[4] See Rabbi Eitam Henkin’s book at pages 234–235.

[5] See Kitvei Ha-Arukh Hashulchan, no. 56.

[6] See Printing of the Arukh HaShulhan: The Missing Line About Rabbi Epstein’s Daughter for more on the posthumous publication of volumes.

[7] Rabbi Meir Bar-Ilan, From Volozhin to Jerusalem 269-271 (1939-1940) [Hebrew].

[8] See Rabbi Eitam Henkin’s work תערוך לפני שלחן at pages 229–257 for a detailed discussion of the publication difficulties and schedule of the Arukh HaShulchan.

[9] Twice Arukh Hashulchan refers to the work by its formal name, Mishnah Berurah, and all the remaining times by an acronym מ”ב or המ”ב.




The Rogochover and More

The Rogochover and More

Marc B. Shapiro
In a recent Jewish Review of Books (Summer 2017), I published a translation of an interview R. Joseph Rozin, the Rogochover, gave to the New York Yiddish paper, Der morgen zhurnal. You can see the original interview here. The fact that the Rogochover agreed to the interview is itself significant. As is to be expected, the content of the interview is also of great interest.
In the preface to the interview, I mentioned that the Rogochover famously studied Torah on Tisha be-Av and when he was an avel, both of which are in violation of accepted halakhah. When he was once asked why, while sitting shiva, he learnt Torah, he is reported to have replied:[1]
ודאי, עבירה היא זו, וכשאקבל עונש על שאר עונותי יענישוני אף על עון זה, אבל אני אקבל באהבה וברצון את העונש על חטא זה, וכדאית היא התורה להלקות עליה
R. Yissachar Tamar cites an eye-witness who reported that the Rogochover said basically the same thing in explaining why he learnt on Tisha be-Av, and noted how wonderful it will be to be punished for studying Torah.[2]
ומה נעים לקבל צליפות על עסק התורה
The Hazon Ish was told that the Rogochover learnt Torah when he was in mourning and that he made another antinomian-like comment in justification of his behavior, namely, that he wants to be in the gehinom of those who learn Torah. The Hazon Ish replied that “this gehinom is the same gehinom for the other sins.”[3]
The various comments quoted in the name of the Rogochover show his great need for studying Torah, a need that simply did not allow him to put aside his Torah study, even when halakhah required it. Yet the antinomian implication of the Rogochover’s comments was too much to be ignored. R. Gavriel Zinner’s reaction after quoting the Rogochover is how many felt.[4]
ולא זכיתי להבין, הלא מי לנו גדול מחכמי הגמ’ שנפשם ג”כ חשקה בתורה ואפ”ה גזרו שבת”ב ובזמן אבל אסורים בלימוד התורה, ועוד שאחז”ל הלומד ע”מ שלא לעשות נוח לו שלא נברא.
It is thus to be expected that some authors deny that the Rogochover could have really said any of what I have quoted. And if he did say it, they feel that it must have been merely a joke or a comment not meant to be taken seriously, or that he did not want people to know the real reason he studied Torah while in avelut (namely, the Yerushalmi which will soon be mentioned).[5] R. Abraham Weinfeld goes so far as to say, with reference to one of the comments I have quoted that “It is forbidden to hear these words, and Heaven forbid to suspect that Rabban shel Yisrael [the Rogochover] would say this.”[6] 

Those who refuse to accept that the Rogochover meant what he said are forced to find a halakhic justification for his behavior, and indeed, when it comes to an avel studying Torah (and this would also apply to Tisha be-Av, the halakhot of which are not as stringent as those of personal mourning), there is a passage in the Yerushalmi, Moed Katan 3:5, that permits Torah study for one who has a great need.[7]  (This heter is not recorded in the Shulhan Arukh, but this would not have concerned the Rogochover.[8]) Yet it is important to remember that as far as we know the Rogochover never cited this passage in the Yerushalmi as justification for his studying Torah when he was sitting shiva.[9]

Now for something disappointing and even a bit shocking: Here are the two pages from R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin, Ishim ve-Shitot (Jerusalem, 2007), pp. 75-76, where you can see one of the“controversial” quotations (which as R. Zevin notes is taken from an article in Ha-Hed).

R. Menahem Kasher quoted the entire two pages from Ishim ve-Shitot in his Mefaneah Tzefunot (Jerusalem, 1976), pp. 1-2 in the note.
Look at the end of the first paragraph of the note on p. 2. The “problematic” quotation of the Rogochover, saying that he will happily be punished for his sin in studying Torah, as the Torah is worth it, has been deleted. Instead, the Rogochover is portrayed as explaining his behavior as due to the passage in the Yerushalmi. While all the other authors who discuss this matter and want to “defend” the Rogochover claim that his real reason for studying Torah was based on the Yerushalmi, in R. Kasher’s work this defense is not needed as now we have the Rogochover himself giving this explanation!

Yet the Rogochover never said this. R. Zevin’s text has been altered and a spurious comment put in the mouth of the Rogochover, By looking carefully at the text you can see that originally R. Zevin was quoted correctly. Notice how there is a space between the first and second paragraphs and how the false addition is a different size than the rest of the words. What appears to have happened is that the original continuation of the paragraph was whited out and the fraudulent words were substituted in its place. Yet this was done after everything was typeset so the evidence of the altering remains.
Look also at the third paragraph where it says
ההד, שם
However, this makes no sense as R. Zevin’s reference to Ha-Hed has been deleted. I do not see how anyone other than R. Kasher could have been responsible for this particular “editing.” 
As mentioned, many were troubled by the Rogochover’s antinomian-like comment.[10] Yet he is not the only one to speak like this. R. Joseph Hayyim (the Ben Ish Hai) in his Benayahu refers to an unnamed gaon who also learnt Torah when he was in avelut. When asked about this he did not refer to the Yerushalmi but answered in an antinomian fashion just like the Rogochover: “I know that I am violating the words of the Sages, and I know that on the day of judgment I will certainly be punished for this, but he [!] is prepared and willing to suffer and receive this punishment whatever it will be, because he is not able to withstand the pain of avoiding the study of Torah which is as difficult for him as death.”[11] Benayahu appeared in 1905. I do not think it is possible that at such an early date R. Joseph Hayyim could have heard a story about the Rogochover, so he must have had another great rabbi in mind.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe told a similar story.[12] When he was a youth, he had a teacher from Lithuania who lived in his home. He once found this teacher learning on Tisha be-Av. Young Menachem Mendel asked the teacher how is it that he was learning Torah on that day. The teacher replied: “When I come to the World to Come, I will be punished for one reason or another. I will be happy if I know that the reason I am being punished is because I learnt on Tisha be-Av.”[13]
The following subversive story with R. Israel of Ruzhin is also of interest, as it too shows a violation of accepted halakhah regarding Torah study on Tisha be-Av. It appears in R. Mordechai Hayyim of Slonim, Ma’amar Mordechai, vol. 2, p. 206.
הרה”ק מרוזין שהה פעם בימי בין המצרים במעינות המרפא, וביום צום תשעה באב אחר חצות היום, אמר לאחד מבני לוויתו שילמוד מסכתא משניות, ויעשה סיום בליל מוצאי התענית, ויסמכו על זה הקהל אשר שם ויאכלו בשר ואמר בלשו”ק: רבי שמואל קאמינקער אמר, שסיום מסכתא משניות חשוב כמו סיום מסכת גמרא, ועל רבי שמואל קאמינקער יכולין לסמוך כמו על אחד מגדולי הפוסקים. ועל האיסור ללמוד בתשעה באב אחר חצות, דאס נעם איך אויף מיר, און לאזן אידן עסן פלייש . . .

Returning to the interview with the Rogochover, he cites Maimonides who says that the word “Germany” is derived from the Hebrew word gerem, meaning “bone.”
Mishnah Negaim 2:1, in a passage that tells us how things used to be, says that Jews are neither black nor white, but in the middle (meaning, a Middle Eastern look). At the beginning of the Mishnah it speaks of a white spot that appears on a white man and on a black man. The word the Mishnah uses for “white man” is גרמני (German), and for “black man” it uses כושי. Germania was the Roman term for the area we call Germany, so it makes sense that the Mishnah, in describing a white man, would use that term.[14]
Apparently, Maimonides did not know the word גרמני. Thus, in his commentary to Negaim 2:1 he offers the explanation mentioned by the Rogochover, that גרמני is related to the word for bone. (In the interview, the Rogochover says that Maimonides refers to the Hebrew word גרם, but I wonder if this was a mistake on the interviewer’s part, as the word used by Maimonides is the Aramaic גרמא). Here is R. Kafih’s translation:
גרמני שם הלבן ביותר מיוחס אל העצם אשר שמו גרמא
Leaving aside the matter of the correct historical etymology, I wonder if Maimonides saw a problem with his explanation, namely, that for “black man” the Mishnah uses an ethnic identification, so one would expect it to also use such an identification in describing a white man. Furthermore, why would the Mishnah use an Aramaic word instead of the Hebrew עצם?
R. Elijah Benamozegh wonders how Maimonides did not realize what גרמני is referring to:[15]
והפלא על חכמת הרמב”ם שכתב כן ועשה עין של מעלה כאלו אינה רואה שדברי חז”ל מעידים ומגידים שגרמני שם אומה, לא זולת, ומה ענין לגרמא עצם בל’ ארמי?
R. Meir Mazuz asks, “How could Maimonides not have thought of this?” namely, that גרמני means German.[16] He explains that Maimonides was an Arabic speaker, and the way he knew Germany was by the term “Alemannia.” As such, when he saw the word גרמני in the Mishnah, since he did not know the term “Germany” he was forced to come up with a different explanation tying גרמני to “white.”[17]
What R. Mazuz did not know is that this explanation is not original to Maimonides and must reflect an earlier tradition.[18] I say this because R. Hillel ben Elyakim of Greece, who lived in the twelfth century (that is, contemporaneously with Maimonides) independently mentions this explanation. In his commentary to Torat Kohanim, ed. S. Kolodetzky, vol. 1, p. 190, he writes:
ומנלן גרמני הוי לבן כדגרסי’ בכל מקום גרמני מוכר כושי וכאן כושי מוכר גרמני דהיינו לבן דעצם מתרגמינן גרמא ועצם הוי לבן.
R. Hillel cites Bereshit Rabbah 86:3 which states: “Everywhere a white man (גרמני) sells a black man (כושי), while here a black man is selling a white man.” He also says דעצם מתרגמינן גרמא. If you look at Onkelos and Targum Ps. Jonathan to Genesis 2:23 this is exactly what you find.
When I found what R. Hillel wrote, I was quite excited, as I thought I had discovered something that no one else had taken notice of. Yet I later found that Jacob Nahum Epstein had already called attention to this in his notes to the commentary attributed to R. Hai Gaon to Seder Toharot (Berlin, 1921), p. 94 n. 32. He assumes that R. Hillel predates Maimonides:
ר”ה מארץ יון בפי’ ספרא דף קי”ג ב’ ור”מ אחריו הוציאוהו מן “גרמא”, עצם!
Returning to the Rogochover, everyone knows that the he put Maimonides above all other authorities. However, R. Zevin, Ishim ve-Shitot (Jerusalem, 2007), p. 125, calls attention to an example where in a practical halakhic matter the Rogochover rejected Maimonides’ view. See She’elot u-Teshuvot Tzafnat Paneah, vol. 1, no. 34:[19]
ואף דרבותינו הראשונים ז”ל וגם רבנו הגדול הרמב”ם לא ס”ל כן עפר אני תחת רגליו אך העיקר כמ”ש לדינא
The Rogochover’s sharp tongue is well known. For an example of how the Rogochover could even speak disrespectfully about the Tosafists, see Rav Tzair, Pirkei Hayyim (New York, 1954), p. 163.[20] Rav Tzair recalls how as a yeshiva student he went to meet the Rogochover where, we can only say, he was “blown away.” He writes:
אחר כך פנה אלי ואמר לי: ואתה בחור למה באת? יש לך קושיא, אמור! מלמלתי בבהלה את הקושיא שהיתה, כפי שאני זוכר, בתוספות של מסכת בבא מציעא, בדיני הפקר ומציאה. על זה השיב לי בבהלה כדרכו. הא, בתוספות? התוספות לא ידעו מה הם סחים; (“תוספות האט געפלוידערט”). נבהלתי, כמובן, לשמוע את הדיבורים הללו, ומלים נעתקו מפי. אמר לי, מה אתה נבהל? אני אראה לך כמה וכמה תוספות שלא הבינו את הגמרא, והתחיל להביא תלי תלים של דברי תוספות מכל הש”ס, והכל בעל פה, על פי הדף ודיבור המתחיל, ועירבב דבר אחד בשני ובבלי בירושלמי, עד שראה שראשי היה עלי כגלגל וחדלתי להבין את המשך הענינים.
Rav Tzair, ibid., p. 164, also mentions the Rogochover’s negative comment about R. Isaac Elhanan Spektor:
הנה הזקן יושב לו בקובנה וכותב ומדפיס וכותב ומדפיס עד אין סוף! מי מבקש זאת ממנו? כלום ספרים חסרים בעולם? הנה זקנך, ששמעתי עליו שהוא בעל-הוראה, יושב ופוסק שאלות. זה הכל מה שצריך. כל הרבנים הכותבים ספרים אינם יודעים בין ימינם לשמאלם.
Zvi Hirsch Masliansky, Maslianky’s Zikhroynes (New York, 1924), p. 107, who has a very negative view of the Rogochover, also records how he denigrated R. Isaac Elhanan as well as R. Samuel Mohilever and the Hibbat Zion movement. He further mentions that the Rogochover disparaged his own rebbe, R. Joseph Baer Soloveitchik:
צוזאמען מיט זיין גוואלדיגען זכרון, האט זיך ענטוויקעלט אין איהם זיין ווילדער עזות און חוצפה צו מבטל זיין אלע גאונים צוזאמען מיט זיין גרויסען רבי’ רבי יוסף בער.
See also R. Nathan Kamenetsky, Making of a Godol, pp. 743, 747, for other times that the Rogochover insulted R. Joseph Baer Soloveitchik. (On p. 744 Kamenetsky writes that the Rogochover received semikhah from R. Soloveitchik.)

Masliansky’s Hebrew autobiography is not an exact translation of the original Yiddish. (The English version is a translation from the Hebrew.) The Hebrew edition does not contain the passage just quoted. It also does not contain Masliansky’s concluding negative comment, p. 108:

ער האָט זיך צושריען און צוהיצט, און האָט צומישט און צופלאָנטערט פערשיעדענע ענינים, און ער האָט מיר אויסגעוויזען ווי א פאציענט פון א משוגעים הויז. איך האב אים נאָר ניט גענעטפערט; איך בין ארויס א פערטרויערטער און געדעקט: “אָט דאָס זיינען דיינע גאונים, מיין פאָלק ישראל!”
Kamenetsky, Making of a Godol, p. 747 n. b, mentions the Hebrew edition’s deletion of these “revolting lines of the original text.” We have a number of descriptions of the Rogochover from people who met him, and while all portray him as unusual, none have the negative spin of Masliansky. Perhaps it was the Rogochover’s anti-Zionism that turned Masliansky against him.  
R. Moshe Maimon called my attention to She’elot u-Teshuvot Tzafnat Paneah ha-Hadashot (Modi’in Ilit, 2012), vol. 2, p. 391 (unpaginated), where we see that in newly published material the Rogochover referred to the Vilna Gaon as “Rabbenu ha-Gra.” This is significant because in the interview I published the Rogochover was hardly complimentary to the Vilna Gaon.[21]
She’elot u-Teshuvot Tzafnat Paneah ha-Hadashot is quite an interesting publication and includes the Rogochover’s notes to some poems of R. Judah Halevi. It is not that the Rogochover had any great interest in Halevi’s poetry. However, the Rogochover was one of those people whose mind was such that he had something to say about everything he read.
I encourage anyone interested in the Rogochover to watch this wonderful video by Louis Jacobs. The Rogochover was one of Jacobs’ heroes, and somewhere he mentions that the Rogochover was one of the people he would have loved to have met.
Regarding Bialik’s visit with the Rogochover that I mentioned in the Jewish Review of Books article, Maimon called my attention to this article by Noah Zevuluni [22]. For more on the meeting of Bialik and the Rogochover, see Doar ha-Yom, Jan. 10, 1932, p. 2, and Davar, April 17, 1935, p. 16 (where it mistakenly states that Bialik said that you could make ten Einsteins out of one Rogochover. He actually said that you could make two Einsteins out of one Rogochover.). The last two sources were brought to my attention by R. Shimon Szimonowitz.
Yossi Newfeld called my attention to the following two works focused on the Rogochover: Regarding the Rogochover and the Lubavitcher Rebbe, there is an MA dissertation by Yisrael Ori Meitlis, “‘Ha-Lamdanut ha-Filosofit’ shel Rabbi Yosef Rozin bi-Derashotav shel Rabbi Menahem Mendel Schneersohn (ha-Rebbe mi-Lubavitch),” (Bar-Ilan University, 2013). There is also the volume Ha-Tzafnat Paneah be-Mishnat ha-Rebbe (Brooklyn, 2003). In a previous post I called attention to R. Dovber Schwartz’s wonderful book The Rogatchover Gaon.
It is often said that the Rebbe received semichah from the Rogochover, yet there is no documentary evidence of this. The origin of this notion might be the Rebbe’s mother, who stated as such. See the comprehensive and beautifully produced new book on the Rebbe by R. Boruch Oberlander and R. Elkanah Shmotkin, Early Years.
In my article I mentioned the Rogochover’s unique perspective on the halakhic status of civil marriage. Those interested in this topic should consult R. Menahem Mendel Tenenbaum, Nisuim Ezrahiyim be-Mishnato shel Ha-Rogochovi z”l (n.p., 1988). This book contains an analysis of six responsa of the Rogochover on the topic.
One final point I would like to make about the Rogochover relates to his view of secular studies. He was one of those who responded to R. Shimon Schwab’s query about the halakhic validity of the German Torah im Derekh Eretz approach.[23] You can find his letter in Ha-Ma’yan[24] 16 (Nisan 5736), pp. 1ff. Among the significant points he makes is that, following Maimonides, a father must teach his son “wisdom.” He derives this from Maimonides’ ruling in Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Rotzeah 5:5:
הבן שהרג את אביו בשגגה גולה וכן האב שהרג את בנו בשגגה גולה על ידו. במה דברים אמורים בשהרגו שלא בשעת לימוד או שהיה מלמדו אומנות אחרת שאינו צריך לה. אבל אם ייסר את בנו כדי ללמדו תורה או חכמה או אומנות ומת פטור.
He adds, however, that instruction in “secular” subjects is not something that the community should be involved in, with the exception of medicine, astronomy, and the skills which allow one to take proper measurements, since all these matters have halakhic relevance. In other words, according to the Rogochover, while Jewish schools should teach these subjects, no other secular subjects (“wisdom”) should be taught by the schools, but the father should arrange private instruction for his son.
רואים דהרמב”ם ס”ל דגם חכמה מותר וצריך אב ללמוד לבנו אבל ציבור ודאי אסורים בשאר חכמות חוץ מן רפואה ותקפות [!] דשיך [!] לעבובר [צ”ל לעבור] וגמטרא [!] השייך למדידה דזה ג”כ בגדר דין.
He then refers to the Mekhilta, parashat Bo (ch. 18), which cites R. Judah ha-Nasi as saying that a father must teach his son ישוב המדינה. The Rogochover does not explain what yishuv ha-medinah means, just as he earlier does not explain what is meant by “wisdom,” but these terms obviously include the secular studies that are necessary to function properly in society.
The publication of this letter of the Rogochover was regarded as quite significant. Yet as far as I know, no one has pointed out that the main point of the letter had already appeared in print. In 1937 R. Judah Ari Wohlgemuth published Yesodot Hinukh ha-Dat le-Dor. On p. 250 he included the following comment of the Rogochover, found in the margin of Rogochover’s copy of the Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Rotzeah 5:5.
נראה לי דר”ל שאר חכמות גם כן חייב האב ללמדו
Excursus 1
For another example of Maimonides offering a speculative etymology for a word he did not know, see his commentary to Yadayim 4:6 regarding the word המירם. In his commentary to Sanhedrin 10:1, Maimonides explains the term אפיקורוס as coming from an Aramaic word. This is surprising as Maimonides knew of the Greek philosopher Epicurus and refers to him in Guide I:73, II:13, 32, III:17. (Even if Maimonides had not heard of Epicurus when he wrote his commentary on the Mishnah, we know that he revised this work throughout his life and yet he never altered his explanation of אפיקורוס.) See Arukh Shalem, ed. Kohut (Vienna, 1878), s. v. אפיקורוס. See also R. Yitzhak Sheilat, Hakdamot ha-Rambam (Jerusalem, 1992) p. 185, who believes that Maimonides knew the real origin of the word but was only following the Talmud’s “midrashic” derivation of the term from the Aramaic word אפקירותא  (see Sanhedrin 100a). See also R. Hayyim Yehoshua Kasowski, Otzar Leshon ha-Mishnah, s.v. אפיקורוס:
וע”פ דמיון השם הזה אל הפעל פקר בארמית השתמשו בו לכנוי נרדף למין וצדוקי ובייתוסי
R. Simeon ben Zemah Duran, Magen Avot (Livorno, 1785), 1:2 (p. 4b), and the section of this work on Avot 2:14also called Magen Avot (Leipzig, 1855), and R. Joseph Albo, Sefer ha-Ikarim I:10, point to Epicurus as the origin of the term אפיקורוס.
In his commentary to Kelim 30:2 and Parah 1:3, Maimonides explains two Greek words with Hebrew etymologies. I see no reason to accept R. Kafih’s opinion, expressed in his notes ad loc., that in these cases Maimonides knew that the words were Greek and was simply offering a “remez.” In fact, in his commentary to Kelim 30:2 he writes explicitly:


והוא לדעתי מלה מורכבת  

If he was simply offering a “remez” he would not have written, “In my opinion,” followed by the etymology. At other times, however, it is possible that Maimonides knew that the words were Greek and he did not intend to offer a scientific etymology. This is the approach of Dror Fixler, who applies it even to the case from Kelim 30:2 just mentioned.[25]

R. Kafih is, of course, correct that the talmudic sages would at times offer a Hebrew etymology for a word that they knew was not Hebrew. The example he offers is Megillah 6a: “Why is it called Tiberias? Because it is situated in the very center of the land of Israel.” The Sages obviously knew that the city was named after a Roman emperor, and the Hebrew etymology can only be regarded as a form of midrash. Apart from modern scholarly sources that discuss the phenomenon of “judaizing” non-Hebrew words, see R. Jacob Emden, Lehem Nikudim, Avot 2:14:
וכן הוא מנהג החכמים ז”ל לגזור ממלות יוניות שמות ופעלים עברייים וארמיים.
R. Emden’s comment was precipitated by the word אפיקורוס which appears in Avot 2:14. R. Emden also mentions the word סנהדרין. See also R. Samuel Moses Rubenstein, Torat ha-Kabbalah (Warsaw, 1912), pp. 29ff. Some of R. Rubenstein’s examples are themselves speculative. For instance, he claims that the words בן דינאי in Kelim 5:10 are a “judaization” of the word “Bedouin.” 

R. Rubenstein notes a number of examples of post-talmudic authorities not realizing the real origin of a word and offering a Hebrew etymology. One of these appears in R. Ovadiah Bertinoro’s commentary to Sotah 9:11, where R. Bertinoro writes as follows regarding the Greek word “Sanhedrin.”

ונקראים סנהדרין ששונאים הדרת פנים בדין
(ש and ס are interchangeable.) Yet I wonder, is R. Rubenstein correct that R. Bertinoro is offering an actual Hebrew etymology for the word “Sanhedrin”? The passage just quoted might be no more than a “midrashic” etymology, which R. Bertinoro would acknowledge is not the real origin of the word. Jacob Reifman refers to R. Bertinoro’s etymology as a דרש רחוק מאד. See Reifman, Sanhedrin (Berditchev, 1888), p. 3. He then adds:
ולא אדע עתה מאין לקח, ואולי הוא אך יליד הר”ע עצמו
Reifman was unaware that this etymology is also recorded by R. Jacob Moelin, so it could not have been original to R. Bertinoro. See Sefer Maharil, ed. Spitzer (Jerusalem, 1989), p. 611.
Even if we conclude that the etymology mentioned by R. Moelin and R. Bertinoro was simply “midrashic,” there is no reason to assume that they knew that the word סנהדרין was Greek, knowledge of which was not common among Jews of their time and place. See R. Avigdor Tzarfati, Perushim u-Fesakim le-Rabbenu Avigdor ha-Tzarfati (Jerusalem, 1996), p. 233, who does not know the word’s Greek origin and writes:
ואני שמעתי סנהדרין לשון סני דרין פי’ שהיו שונאין דורונות
In this case, it does seem that R. Avigdor is offering what he thinks is the actual etymology of the word. R. Yom Tov Lippman Heller, Tosafot Yom Tov, beginning of Sanhedrin, writes that סנהדרין is an Aramaic word, so he too did not know its Greek origin.
Returning to R. Bertinoro, in his commentary to Avot 2:14 he offers an unscientific etymology of the word אפיקורוס, but he must have known who Epicurus was, so I assume that this is a “midrashic” etymology. 
לאפיקורוס: לשון הפקר שמבזה את התורה ומחשיבה כאילו היא הפקר. אי נמי משים עצמו כהפקר ואינו חס על נפשו לחוש שמא תבוא עליו רעה על שמבזה את התורה או לומדיה.
To turn to a different question, are there any examples in the Talmud where an etymology is not simply “midrashic” but intended to be taken seriously, and yet we know that it is mistaken? The Mishnah in Ketubot 15b mentions a “hinuma.” On 17b the Talmud asks what a hinuma is, and quotes R. Johanan who says: “A veil under which the bride [sometimes] slumbers (דמנמנה).” As Rashi explains, R. Johanan is making a connection between the word הינומא and מנמנה which itself is related to the word תנומה (slumber).[26]
ופעמים שמנמנמת בתוכו מתוך שאין עיניה מגולין ולכך נקרא הינומא על שם תנומה
The Arukh, s.v. הנמא, cites R. Hananel who states that hinuma is a Greek word. It is possible to understand R. Hananel as meaning that R. Johanan’s explanation was no more than a “midrashic” etymology. (This is on the assumption that he understood the passage as Rashi did.) However, this passage in R. Hananel also assumed a life of its own, as some saw it as providing support for the assumption that the Sages were not always correct in their etymologies. This matter has recently been discussed by Hanan Gafni in his fine book, “Peshutah shel Mishnah,” pp. 184ff., so there is no need for me to repeat what he has written.
Excursus 2
R. Raphael Mordechai Barishansky was shocked to read what the Rogochover said about the Vilna Gaon, as I think we all are. He responded strongly in an article in Der morgen zhurnal which was later reprinted in his Osef Mikhtavim Mehutavim (New York, 1952), pp. 167-169. Even though his words are strong, R. Barishansky shows great respect for the Rogochover. 

This is not the case with R. Abraham Aaron Yudelevitz whose attack on the Rogochover is quite sharp. It needs to be said, however, that this came after the Rogochover referred to R. Yudelevitz – who was himself an outstanding scholar – in a very negative way. In printing the Rogochover’s letter, R. Yudelevitz tells us that he cut out some of Rogochover’s harshest words, but we still get the picture. The Rogochover was responding to R. Yudelevitz’s novel view that halitzah can be done with an agent, and the Rogochover referred to R. Yudelevitz as a בן סורר ומורה. See R. Yudelevitz, Av be-Hokhmah (New York, 1927), p. 82. [27]

Here is some of what R. Yudelevitz said in response, ibid., pp. 83,85-86. The language is very sharp (and also refers to how the Rogochover rejected something the Vilna Gaon wrote):
פער פיו בזלזולים כהאשה בת בוזי היושבת בשוק ומוכרת עיגולים בשער האשפתות ואולתו כפרתו כי אין קץ לשטותו ולגאותו.
אבל הוא אינו חושש לזה, לא להרמב”ם ולא להשו”ע, כי הוא חושב כי עד שבא הוא לעולם לא היתה לישראל תורה כלל כי לא הבינו תורה מאומה וממנו התחילה התורה ובו תסיים וראוי היה לו לומר דכל מי שאינו אומר כמותו יתכן כי הוא עוד גאון אבל אינו עוד גאון עצום ויחיד בדור כמוהו, אבל גאות אדם תשפילנו כתיב לכן הוא בגאותו שחקים משפיל את עצמו כי אמר רק דברים פשוטים הגונים לבור ולא גאונות והאיש שאינו אומר כמוהו הוא פחות מתלמיד בור ולא שייך בו גדר זקן ממרא ורק הוא שאומר דברי בורות יכול להיות זקן ממרא ח”ו ובאמת כי כל התורה שלנו מונחת במוחו בכח זכרונו הנפלא אבל כח הבנתו קטנה מהכיל זה (כי כח הזכרון וכח הבנה באדם הם שני כחות נגדיים זה לזה כידוע), ולכן הוא מבולבל ומשוגע ומקיים מ”ע והיית משוגע בכל פרטיה ודקדוקיה כראוי לצדיק ובגודל חסידותיה הוא מבטל גם דברי הגר”א מווילנא זצ”ל והוא יושב בעינים על הדרך כי תורתו מלאה עינים, עיין עיין, אבל אינה ברה מאירת עינים רק סמיות עינים.
Regarding the Vilna Gaon, I know of only one other figure in the twentieth century who expressed a somewhat critical view of him and that is R. Nahum Ben-Horim. Here is his picture.
  
I found the picture on this website, which is an ongoing translation of the important eight volume Leksikon fun der nayer yidisher literatur, which contains over 7000 names. The translator is Professor Joshua Fogel who, you might be surprised to learn, is not a Yiddishist. He is a professor of Chinese and Japanese history at York University in Toronto. In addition to his numerous publications in Chinese and Japanese Studies (almost fifty books written, translated, or edited), he has also published four volumes on the Talmud. See here. I think readers will find the introduction to his book on Tractate Avodah Zarah particularly interesting. See here. Fogel is just one of the many people whose lives have been enriched by the ArtScroll translation of the Talmud.
Ben-Horim, the author of Hakhmei ha-Talmud (Jerusalem, 1922) on R. Yohanan ben Zakai (among other books), was a very minor figure, but it is interesting nonetheless to see what he had to say. The following is a letter that I found here in the Chaim Bloch papers at the Leo Baeck Institute, AR7155-7156, p. 950.
 

As you can see, he writes as follows about the Vilna Gaon.

והוא בעצמו היה רחוק מאורחא דמהימנותא והראיה כי רדף צדיקים תמימים באף והחרים אותם. הגר”א היה בעל שכל חריף וגאון בידיעות אולם הוא לא היה מעיילי בלא בר לפני ולפנים וטעה והטעה רבים.
When he writes that the Gaon was not מעיילי בלא בר לפני ולפנים, this is a disparaging remark which comes from Sanhedrin 97b and means that the Gaon was not among those “who enter [the heavenly court] without restriction.”
It is also shocking to see Ben-Horim write:
מי שיודע ללמוד מעט או הרבה אסור לו להיות טפש ובעל גאוה וכאלה היו רבים בין הראשונים.
Returning to R. Yudelevitz, here is a picture of him that I previously posted.
He is on the right and R. Gavriel Zev Margulies is on the left. The picture is from 1925 and was taken outside the White House. R. Yudelevitz and R. Margulies were part of a delegation that met with President Calvin Coolidge. For a detailed discussion of R. Yudelevitz and the halitzah controversy, see R. Yoel Hirsch’s Yiddish article here. For another informative article by Hirsch on R. Yudelevitz, see here.
Everyone assumes that the idea of halitzah with an agent originated with R. Yudelevitz. However, R. Isaac Raphael Ashkenazi, the rav of Ancona, refers to this notion in a responsum from 1884.[28] He mentions that the rabbi of Modena (whose name is not mentioned) suggested doing halitzah with an agent. R. Ashkenazi strongly rejects this suggestion:
כי דבר זה מתנגד לפשט הכתובים ולשורש המצוה כאשר יבין בנקל כל מבין
Regarding halitzah, you can see an actual ceremony here and here, with R. Aryeh Ralbag presiding.
* * * * * *
1. It has been a while since I had a quiz, so here goes. In the current post I mentioned the prohibition of Torah study on Tisha be-Av. This is an example where the halakhah of Tisha be-Av is stricter than that of Yom Kippur. Many authorities rule that there is also something else that is forbidden on Tisha be-Av but permitted on Yom Kippur. Answers should be sent to me.
2. In my last post I raised the question as to why Middot and Kinnim are the only Mishnaic tractates included in Daf Yomi. Menachem Kagan, himself a Daf Yomi magid shiur, wrote to me that only these tractates of the Mishnah are included in the Vilna Shas as if they are talmudic tractates, by which I mean that they continue the page numbers of other talmudic tractates. We do not know why these mishnaic tractates were included in the Vilna Shas in this fashion, but this is certainly the reason why they were included in Daf Yomi. As to why only Shekalim from the Jerusalem Talmud is included in Daf Yomi, Kagan correctly notes that by including Shekalim the entire order of Moed is complete.
3. Betzalel Shandelman sent me the title page of a vocalized edition of the Mishnah Berurah. As you can see, R. Moses Rivkes’ name is vocalized as Ravkash. Shandelman also sent me the title page of the Oz ve-Hadar edition of the Mishnah Berurah and it does the same thing. I have never seen this vocalization before and it is incorrect. His name was Rivkes, which is from the word Rivkah, supposedly the name of his mother. Similarly, R. Joel Sirkes was called this, as his mother’s name was Sarah. R. Moses Isserles was called this as his father’s name was Israel. The pattern is clear: Rivkes, Sirkes, Isserles.[29] In each case the final letter is a sin, not a shin.

4. Readers have sometimes asked for a list of places where I will be speaking. It happens that there are a number of places in the next couple of months.
December 1-2, 2017, Shaarey Zedek, Valley Village, CA.
December 15-16, 2017, Ohel Leah, Hong Kong

December 29-30, 2017, Shaare Shalom and Kingsway Jewish Center, Brooklyn. On Saturday night, Dec. 30, 7:30pm at Kingsway Jewish Center I will be speaking on “Are We Really One? Orthodox Separatism from Germany until Today.”

January 5-6, 2018, Young Israel of Holliswood, Queens
January 19-20, 2018, Skylake Synagogue, North Miami Beach.
I will also be at Majestic Retreats’ wonderful Passover program in Fort Lauderdale.

[1] R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin, Ishim ve-Shitot (Jerusalem, 2007), pp. 75-76. R. Zevin, p. 75, also mentions that the Rogochover learnt Torah on Tisha be-Av.
[2] Alei Tamar, Berakhot, vol. 1, p. 96b.
[3] Orhot Rabbenu: Ba’al ha-“Kehilot Ya’akov” (Bnei Brak, 2001), vol. 4, p. 184.
[4] Nit’ei Gavriel, Avelut, p. 551 (ch. 106). In his discussion, R. Zinner calls attention to the fascinating information in R. Hayyim Karlinsky, Ha-Rishon le-Shoshelet Brisk (Jerusalem, 1984), p. 321, that when R. Joseph Baer Soloveitchik (the Beit ha-Levi) was sitting shiva for his father, he wanted people to tell him Torah insights from his father. When asked if this is not forbidden as Torah study during avelut, R. Soloveitchik replied:
חידושי תורה של הנפטר לא זו בלבד שמותר לבנו האבל לשמוע, אלא אדרבה! מצוה לו לשמעו. שכן מלבד שיש בהם משום זכות לנשמתו של הנפטר . . . הרי הם מגדילים ומרבים את צערו ויגונו של האבל בהעריכו יותר את אבידתו הגדולה בפטירת אביו.
[5] See e.g., R. Avraham Yekutiel Ohev Tziyon, Ya’alat Hen, vol. 1, p. 290; R. Hayyim Kanievsky. Derekh Sihah (Bnei Brak, 2004), 487.
[6] R. Abraham Weinfeld, Lev Avraham, no. 98.
[7] See R. Chaim Rapoport, “Sipurim Temuhim . . .,” Hearot u-Veurim 33:2 (2013), pp. 55-67, for an excellent discussion of the matter.
[8] R. Joseph Karo cites the passage from the Yerushalmi in Beit YosefYoreh Deah 384, but adds that this view was not accepted. Shibolei ha-Leket, ed. Buber (Vilna, 1887), Hilkhot Semahot no. 26 (p. 177), appears to be the only rishon to accept the Yerushalmi’s position. See R. Ovadiah Yosef, Yabia Omer, vol. 2, Yoreh Deah no. 26:3.
[9] R. Hayyim Kanievsky. Derekh Sihah, p. 487, thinks that the Yerushalmi’s position is why the Rogochover studied Torah while sitting shiva, but he did not want to tell people that this was his reason, presumably, because this would seem haughty. There are examples of other great scholars who studied Torah while sitting shiva, and they indeed explained their behavior by citing the Yerushalmi. See e.g., R. David Falk, Be-Torato Yehegeh (Jerusalem, 2012), p. 76. Yet this still remains problematic for some. See e.g., R. Moshe Shulzinger, Peninei Rabenu Yehezkel (Zikhron Meir, 1992), vol. 1, p. 48, who cites an unnamed “gaon” who did not approve of using the heter of the Yerushalmi and commented:
איך אפשר שהדין הנפסק שאבל אסור בת”ת נאמר רק ליושבי קרנות, ולא לת”ח המבינים ומרגישים בתורה כי היא חייהם ולהוטים אחרי’, אתמהה.
It is reported that while sitting shiva, R. Hayyim Soloveitchik studied in depth those Torah subjects that are only permitted to be studied in a perfunctory way. See Kamenetsky, Making of a Godol, p. 932. Kamenetsky also quotes R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik that according to R. Hayyim study that is not in depth is not even regarded as Torah study
[10] Speaking of antinomianism, see Yehudah le-Kodsho (Tel Aviv, 2001), vol. 3, pp. 117-118, where the hasidic rebbe R. Shlomo Eger of Lublin writes to the Rogochover arguing that as long as some prayer is said in the morning in the זמן תפילה, one can recite the morning Amidah after this time: יכולין להתפלל אימת שירצה. Unfortunately, we do not have the Rogochover’s response to R. Eger, in which he certainly would have blasted this unprecedented suggestion.
[11] BenayahuBerakhot 24b (p. 8a(.
[12] See Rapoport, “Sipurim Temuhim,” (above, n. 16), pp. 63-64. See ibid., note 50, for the numerous places in the Rebbe’s works where the story is found.
[13] For an interesting hasidic passage that includes Tisha be-Av but focuses on fasting rather than learning Torah, and includes a shocking comment about the Anshei Keneset ha-Gedolah, see R. Abraham Yelin, Derekh Tzadikim (Petrokov, 1912), pp. 13b-14b (emphasis added):
ושמעתי מחסיד ישיש א’ שנסע להרה”ק ר’ יחזקאל מקאזמיר ז”ל שהוא היה מקיל גדול בתעניות, ואמר שאנשי כנסה”ג שתקנו התעניות מתביישין על שלא הסתכלו בדורות אלו, וסיפר כמה ענינים מקולותיו שהיה קשה לי לכתוב, ובשם רבינו הקדוש ז”ל מפאריסאב שמעתי שאמר בזה”ל מוזהר ועומד אני מהה”ק ר’ נתן דוד ז”ל משידלאווצע לדרוש ברבים ששום אשה שראויה עדיין לילד לא תתענה כ”א ביום הקדוש, ולכן עכ”פ אדרוש זאת לידידיי.
I will deal with fasting in my next post.
[14] See the Vilna Gaon’s commentary and Tiferet Yisrael, ad loc. See also the Vilna Gaon’s commentary to I Chron. 1:4.
[15] Em la-Mikra, Gen. 10:2.
[16] Bayit Ne’eman 41 (17 Kislev 5777), p. 2. R. Mazuz cites R. Benamozegh. See also R. Mazuz, Mi-Gedolei Yisrael, vol. 3, p. 55.
[17] See Excursus 1.
[18] Kohut, Arukh ha-Shalem, s.v. גרמן, also did not know this, as he writes:
הרמב”ם גוזרו מלשון גרם עצם, וקשה להלמו!
[19] There are two “volume 1” of the Tzafnat Paneah. The one I refer to is the volume published by Mrs. Rachel Citron, the Rogochover’s daughter.
[20] See Yair Borochov, Ha-Rogochovi (n.p., n.d.), p. 179, for a report that the Rogochover suggested that the head pains he suffered from were punishment for perhaps having treated rishonim and aharonim without the proper respect. There is something very strange in this book on p. 176, which is cited מפי השמועה (see sources on p. 419). Borochov states that the Rogochover’s opinion was that Muslims are worshipers of avodah zarah, as they worship the moon! This is so absurd that it is difficult to believe that the Rogochover could have said it. Borochov then states:
והגאון המשיך: הרמב”ם לא פסק שהם עובדי עבודה זרה, כיוון שהוא התגורר בארצות האיסלם ופסק כזה היה בגדר סכנה ופיקוח נפש.
It is simply impossible to believe that the Rogochover could have said something so outlandish.
[21] See Excursus 2.
[22] Regarding the Rogochover’s harsh comments about other great Torah scholars, and how he referred to these scholars,  Zevuluni writes:

  התבטאויותיו החריפות כלפי רבים מגדולי התורה בדורו ואף בדורות הקודמים, לא גרמו בדרך כלל למרירות ולנטירת  איבה . . . הוא היה נוהג לקרוא לגדולי הדור ואף בדורות הקודמים בשמותיהם הפרטיים

Zevuluni records the following story that he heard from the Rogochover. The Rogochover was once a dayan in a large monetary dispute. After a compromise was reached, the litigants put a significant amount of money on the table as payment to the dayanim. The other two dayanim refused to take the money and the Rogochover therefore took it all. He explained that the Talmud, Hagigah 4a, states: “Who is [deemed] an imbecile (shoteh)? One that destroys all that is given to him.” The Rogochover said that one would have expected the Talmud to say, “One that destroys all that he has” rather than “all that is given to him.” From here, the Rogochover stated, there is a proof that if someone gives you something and you refuse to accept it, that you are an imbecile. The Rogochover added, “I do not want to to included in this category.”

Kamenetsky, Making of a Godol, also records comments of the Rogochover about other Torah scholars. See e.g., p. 743 n. i, that in 1934 the Rogochover said that there is no one in Eretz Yisrael who knows how to learn.

Interestingly, on p. 739, Kamenetsky quotes his father that R. Hayyim Soloveitchik and R. David Friedman of Karlin were greater scholars than the Rogochover.

[23] I discuss this matter in Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, pp. 152-153, and in “Torah im Derekh Eretz in the Shadow of Hitler,” Torah u-Madda Journal 14 (2006-2007), pp. 85-86.
[24] In Modern Hebrew the word מעין is pronounced ma’ayan, as if there is a patah under the ayin. In reality, there is a sheva under the ayin. See Yehoshua Blau, “Al ha-Mivneh ha-Murkav shel ha-Ivrit ha-Hadashah le-Umat ha-Ivrit she-ba-Mikra,”Leshonenu 54 (2000), pp. 105-106.
[25] See Fixler, “Perush ha-Rambam le-Milim ha-Yevaniyot she-ba-Mishnah,” Asif 2: Tanakh u-Mahashavah (2015), pp. 384-393.
[26] Rashi’s explanation is not without problems. See R. Weinberg, Seridei Esh, vol. 3, p. 87.
[27] R. Elijah David Rabinowitz-Teomim also was very critical of the Rogochover, yet any such comments have been censored in his published writings. However, one passage was published from manuscript in Shmuel Koll, Ehad be-Doro (Tel Aviv, 1970), vol. 1, p. 202:

 והרב ר’ יוסף ראזין נ”י הנקרא הראגאצובער מדינאבורג, אמר שדברי הח”ס הם דברי שטות – ונבהלתי לשמוע קלות הדעת ממי שהוא רב יושב כסאות למשפט הוראה לדבר דברים כאלה על אור עולם הח”ס ז”ל, אשר בצדקתו ורוחב לבבו כפתחו של אולם הוא כאחד הראשונים ומי כמוהו מורה בכל חדרי תורה, ובעוה”ר רבו הקופצים בראש שלא למדו כל צרכן, ולא שימשו כל עיקר שמוש ת”ח, אשר לחד מ”ד עדיין הוא ע”ה כבברכות מ”ז ב’, חבל על דאית לי’ דרתא ותרעה לדרתי’ ל”ע, ואף למאן דל”ל גם דרתא
[28] VaYa’an Yitzhak, Even ha-Ezer, no. 15.
[29] When I say “the pattern” I mean the pronunciation of the first syllable, as Isserles was actually probably pronounced “Israls.” The final “s” is a possessive so Moses Israls (Isserles) = “Moses of Israel”, Joel Sirkes = “Joel of Sirka (Sarah), and Moses Rivkes = “Moses of Rivkah.” See R. Hayyim Yitzhak Cohen’s letter in Or Yisrael 45 (Tishrei 5767), p. 252. Other surnames that come from a female progenitor are, as Shimon Steinmetz reminded me, Chajes, Edels, and Pesseles. I assume that Perles is also to be included in this list. I do not know about the name Fleckeles, but there is a place in Germany called Fleckl, so that might be the origin.



The Custom of Azharot on Shavous

The Custom of Azharot on Shavous
by R Eliezer Brodt

The Yom tov of Shavous called Yom Matan Torahsenu as it is the day we received the Torah thousands of years ago at Har Sinai. It has many minhaghim that we do to remind us of this such as putting up grass and flowers or eating dairy dishes. Another minhag which many Jews have is to say azharot today. In this post I would like to discuss a bit of interesting bibliographic information about some specific azharot and their authors. On this topic, we will (1) discuss the numbering of the mitzvos in general; (2) next the meaning of azharot; (3) those who took exception to reciting the azharot; and (4) specifically which azharot are frowned upon.

In order to understand this topic a small introduction is needed. According to most opinions Jews are commanded to follow 613 mitzvos from the Torah. While 613 the most common number used, it is actually disputed by a few people. R Yeruchem Fischel Perlow records that R Yonah Ibn Ganach questioned the number. A little later than R. Ibn Ganach, we find that the Ibn Ezra questions this number and does so at great length in his Yesod Moreh, Shar Shenei (pg 91 and onwards). After that we find that the famous kabbalist R. Yosef Gikatilla, says (in his K’lalei Hamitzvos Erech Manah) that it’s impossible to give a number to the mitzvos. The Ramban also questions this number at length in the beginning of his work on the mitzvos. Gersonides (RaLBaG) in his commentary on shmos also questions the number (pg 76 Mossad Harav Kook edition). If we now skip a few hundred years, there is an interesting statement, attributed to the Gra, recorded by his brother R Avrohom at the beginning of his work Ma’alos haTorah where he has the Gra saying that the 613 is only the shoroshim (see there at length and the menucha vekedusha pg 20). R Shlomo Zalman Auerbach writes that this is the reason why we do not find that the Gra wrote on this area although he wrote on every other area of torah (Halichos Shlomo, Shavous, pg 374) due to its unending nature.

Aside from the above opinions, the 613 number has been accepted by most. After one agrees on a final number, the next question is commandments are included in this number. There was two main groups of numbers counters – the BaHaG who gave one listing of the 613 mitzvos and for a few hundred years this was the accepted method of counting the commandments. Then along came the Rambam with many arguments on the BaHaG’s method of counting which he devotes his introduction to his Sefer haMitzvos where he explains why he why he argued against the other shitos and counted the ones he did. Afterwards a whole collection of literature has been written on this topic from many rishonim and achronim.

Besides for the actual count of the mitzvos, there were many composers in the era of the Geonim and Rishonim who composed poems (piyyutim) counting the mitzvos some of these poems are known as azharot.

First, what is the meaning of the word Azharot? Professor Ezra Fleischer writes (Shirat Hakodesh Haivrit B’yemi Habenyayimm pg 73) that it’s not clear from where did the name אזהרת come from, it appears to be the opening sentence of a piyyut now lost. Others point out that אזהרת is the gematriah of 613. Moritz Steinschneider writes (Jewish Literature pg 159) that these piyyutim were based on halachic subjects which instruction was to be given on the Shabbos before the Yom tovim therefore they were called azharot meaning instructions. There are also azharot said on Shabboas Hagodal. A sample of one from R Klonomius can be found in the Shomer Zion Haneman (issue 95-97 year תרטו) (see also Davidsin Otzar Hashira Vhapiyyut vol 2 # 1042). Professor Ezra Fleischer also writes (Shirat Hakodesh Haivrit B’yemi Habenyayimm pg 384) that others such as R Yehudah Halevi wrote azharot for Pesach.

Zunz says the earliest azharot we have are from the end of Eighth century called אתה הנחלת (see also Otzar Haseforim from Ben Yakov pg 33). Amongst the other early ones we have are from R Saddiah Goan, R Binyomin ben Shmuel, R Eliyha haZaken R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel and R. Yitchack Albargeloni.

The Chida in Shem Hagedolim says that the recitation of azharot on Shavous, is done by most Jews. Much earlier we find in the Tzeda laDerach (mamar 4 klal 4 perek 6) that in Spain they said from R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel’s and in Ashkenaz and France they said the one from R. Eliyahu Hazakan The Abudrham (p. 246) also brings that they said from R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel. Even earlier we find both the Siddur Rav Amram Goan (Goldshmidt edition pg 131) and R Saddiah Goan (pg 156 and onwards) also discuss when exactly azharot were said during mussaf. R Saadiah Goan went even further he writes that he saw that everyone says during mussaf the 613 mitzvos from a piyyut called אתה הנחלתה (the earliest known azharot) but saw that it was missing a bunch of mitzvos so he composed a completely new version including all the mitzvos. One of the versions he composed was showing the 613 mitzvos in the asres hadebros (see the article of R Shmual Askenazi in Kovetz Beis Aaron V’yisroel 1991 issue 5 pg 109-114).

The Shelah, Sedar Hayom, and Chida bring that there were those that said the azharot of R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel when they stayed up Shavous night (See Shorshei Minhag Ashkenaz Vol 3 pg 296-298).

The reason for saying the azharot on Shavous suggests Profesor Frankel is perhaps based on a medrash which says that at matan torah the Jews were told after every mitzvah do you accept it with all its applications and after each one they said yes so it could be on shavous the day we got the torah we do this as its like a review of what happened than (Goldshmidt Machzaor Pg 11).

Aside from all the above, not everyone was so enamored with azharot. Two people specifically – Ibn Ezra and the Rambam – were against at least some azharot.

The Ibn Ezra writes in his Yesod Moreh (Bar Ilan 2002 pg 107) “that the authors of azharot are like people who count the blades of grass mentioned in the medical books not realizing the purpose of each one thus these people count the same thing twice because its mentioned twice.” The Rambam writes in his introduction to Sefer haMitzvos while talking about the different minyan hamitzvos that “there are many azharot from Spain and you can not blame them for making mistakes as they were composers not Rabanim.”

It is possible that the Rambam’s opinion was influenced by Ibn Ezra. In the Rambam’s last will and testament, he spoke highly of Ibn Ezra and recommended his son R. Abraham study Ibn Ezra. (See the Koreh haDoros pg 19 and R Emanuel Abuhav in his Bemavak Al Archa Shel Torah pg 247). But, using this source would be a mistake. As was already noted by the Mahrshal who questions whether in fact the will attributed to the Rambam is in fact from the Rambam. Similarly, R Yakov Emden in his Mitpachas Seforim (pgs 101-02) also writes that it must be a forgery. Today, Yitchzach Shilat, has demonstrated conclusively that in fact the will, attributed to the Rambam is a forgery. (Iggros Harambam vol 2 pg 697-698; see also G Scholem in Mechkeria Kabblah Vol 1 pg 190). While the will may not be real, this is still some evidence that the Rambam was influenced by the Ibn Ezra’s work Yesod Moreh in general (see R Yeruchem Fischel Perlow in his introduction to his work on R Saddaih Goan pg 15).

Setting aside where the Rambam got this anti-azharot idea, the next issue is which azharot were the Rambam and Ibn Ezra disapproving of?

R Chaim Heller in his notes (#34) on the Sefer Hamitzvos references a teshuva written by the Radbaz (vol. 3 siman 645) where the Radbaz writes that the Rambam is referring to Reb Shlomo Ibn Gabriel. R Y. Kapach also writes the Rambam is referring to R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel and R Yitzchack Albargeloni. The Sefer HaYechsin (pg 219) also assumes the Rambam was referring to both R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel and R Yitzchack Albargeloni. The Koreh Hadoros when quoting the Rambam’s above statement about the azharot takes this attribution one step further where the Koreh Hadoros just includes in the quote from the Rambam R. Shlomo Ibn Gabriel and R Yitzchack Albargeloni making it appear as if the Rambam says these names specifically. Landshuth, in his Amudei Avodah also assumes the Rambam is referring to R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel (pg 313).

The attribution to R. Shlomo Ibn Gabriel is problematic, mainly because it seems both him and his piyyutim where highly regarded. Although the Tashbatz already writes in his Zohar Harokea (a commentary on azharot of R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel) that this composer was not a great expert in Talmud; most others dispute this characterization. The Rogachaver Goan in his notes (see also Tiferes Zvi on the Zohar Vol 1 pg 189) on the Tashbatz writes that it’s a chutzpah to write such a thing on this amazing composer! [In a joking manner I wanted to suggest its strange that the Rogatchver would stick up for a a rishon as its well known he argued on Rishonim all the time so I wanted to suggest that he wanted to defend R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel so that he would be able to argue on the Tashbatz.]

But one thing we see from this for certain is that the Rogatchver held he was a great Talmud Chacham. Further more there is a different teshuvah (vol 3 siman 532) from the Radvaz where he writes that R. Shlomo Ibn Gabriel was a great person and Ibn Gabriel’s words are holy! This would seem to contradict the previously quoted words of the Radbaz. R. Matsyahu Strashun (Mivchar Kesavim Pg 116-118) suggests because of this apparent contradiction and some others that the Radbaz lived a very long life of 110 years and he wrote over 2000 teshuvot so its possible that over this great length of time he forgot his own earlier words.

R. Shlomo Ibn Gabriel’s contemporaries also held him in high regard. The Ravad (Sefer Hakablah pg 81) Meiri (Sefer Hakablah, Ofek ed., pg 136) Avudraham and Yechsin all call him a great chacham. In one place the Sefer haYeuchsin writes that לא קם כמוהו לפניו ואחריו. The Chida also writes that it can not be that the Rambam was referring to R Shlomo ibn Gabriel. R Yeruchem Fischel Perlow in his work on the Sefer haMitzvos of the Rasag he calls R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel a Godal. The Yechsin writes (and from there the Tzemach Dovid and Koreh Hadoros) that he was the rebbi of Rashi! However R Shmuel Askenazi already points out that the years are impossible because Rashi was ten years old living in France when R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel died in Spain (see his notes to the Kav Hayashar pg 20).

The Kav Hayashar writes that R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel was a great mekubal. The Sefer Metzref Lechochma even (pg 9b) brings that he created a woman golem! (see M Idel, Golem pg 200 and 343) This story shows he was familiar with kabblah maseyois.

There is a famous story brought down by many people [Shalsheles Hakablah (pg 89) Yesod Yosef (perek 87) Kav Hayashar (perek 86) Sefer Zechirah (pg 243) others bring down this story with R Shlomo Alkabetz see Amodei Ha’avodah pg 310.] in regard to R. Shlomo Ibn Gabriel’s death. A non-Jew was jealous of Ibn Gabriel’s wisdom so he killed him burying him under his fig tree. In time, the tree started bearing excellent figs, so great were these figs, that the king heard about it. The king wanted to know what his trick to get such good figs. The fig tree owner obviously did not want to reveal his secret. The king was not satisfied and had the fig tree owner tortured. The fig tree owner eventually confessed that he killed a Jew and buried him there. The king had the fig tree owner killed.
The Kav Hayashar and others use the above story to demonstrate the authors of our piyyutim were great people so we should be say them having the authors name in mind and that his merits should help us. However R. Shmuel Ashkenazi has already pointed out based on the Sefer Tachmoni that this story is not true and instead, R. Shlomo Ibn Gabriel died at the age of twenty nine from a harsh sickness in 1040 (see his notes to the Kav Hayashar pg 19 not the date 1070 given by the Sefer Yuchsin and Zinberg Toldos Hasafros B’yisroel vol 1 pg 72 For more on his sickness see Chaim Shirman in Toldos Hashira Haivrit b’Sefard Hamuslamit pg 265-268).

Abraham Haberman brings down in his Toldos Hapiyyut V’haShira (vol 1 pg 179) a legend from a Temani manuscript that describes the story behind R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel writing of his azharot. R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel was learning in a Yeshivia where the Rebbe had a daughter of marriageable age. The Rebbi said who ever gives me a new fruit can marry her. That night R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel wrote the azharot gave it to the Rebbe and the Rebbe announced the engagement. They got married eruv Shavous!

Another piyyut which R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel is famous for is Keter Malchus which in nusach Sefard machzorim it was said on Yom Kippur at night others say it during the day (see I. Davidson, Otzar Hashira Vehapiyyut # 581). Many people discuss how there are many kabblastic concepts in this piyyut (see Chaim Shirman, Toldos Hashira Hivrit B’sefard Hamuslmit pg 331-345).

Besides for composing songs R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel authored a few seforim one called Tikin Midos Hanefesh others attribute to him the Mivchar Pinenim. However besides for this he authored another sefer which was a classic in philosophy called Mekor Chaim. An interesting thing happened with it it was translated to Latin called Fons Vitae and it became a world classic but the authors name was written as Avicebron and know one knew that a Jew was the real author. In 1846, S Munk figured out that it’s really from R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel and he printed it. Eventually it was printed in Hebrew. There has been much written on this sefer to show that R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel was familiar with kabblah (see G. Scholem, Mechkeria Kabblah Vol 1 pg 39-66).

[For more on R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel see Elbogen, Hatefilah B’yisroel pg 258-259: Zinberg in Toldos Safrus B’yisroel vol 1 pg 34-73: A Haberman Toldos Hapiyyut Vehashira vol 1 pg 175-180: Chaim Shirman in Toldos Hashira Hivrit bsefard hamuslmit pg 257-345.]

From all this, it is clear that neither the Rambam or Ibn Ezra were referring to Ibn Gabriel, so we now turn to another candidate – R Yitzchack Albargeloni. R. Albargeloni lived in the era of the Rif and Ravad. The Sefer Hakabalah also says that R. Albargeloni was a great talmid chacham who wrote works on Kesuvos and Eruvin. The Meiri in Sefer HaKabbalah also (pg 134) writes that he was a great chacham. These works of his on kesuvos and eruvin were lost however Profesor Ta-Shma has found some pieces of his in other works of Rishonim (See his Hasafrut Haparshnut Le’talmud volume 1 pg 168-169). Besides for this he also translated the sefer Mekeach umemkar of Rav Hai Goan from Arabic to Hebrew when he was thirty five years old (see amudei havodah pg 126 and Or hachaim Chaim Michael pg 510). Thus the Chida writes the Rambam was not referring to R Yitzchack Albargeloni.

Another early composer of azharot which was recently found active before R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel and R Yitzchack Albargeloni was from R Binyomin Ben Shmuel. Professor Ezra Fleischer printed them in kovetz al yad (vol 11 pg 1-77) R Binyomin lived according to Zunz before Rashi in the first half of the eleventh century. According to some he was the brother of R Yosef Tov Elem. [For more on this Rishon see Fleischer in his extensive intro to his work and Professor A Grossman in Chachmei Tzarfat Harishonim pg 47-51.]

Another early composer of azharot – before R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel was R Eliyayhu Hazakon his azharot are quoted in Tosafot throughout shas and by many other Rishonim so its highly unlikely that the Ibn Ezra and Rambam were referring to him. The Marshal (shut siman 29) and Chida write that he was the brother in law of Rav Hai Goan but recent historians show that he might have been mistaken and he was a bit later than that See Prof A Grossman in Chachmei Tzarfat Harishonim pg 88-90 . [For a listing of the rishonim who bring him down see Amudei Avodah pg 14-15: Chaim Michael, Or Hachaim pg 180: Davidson, Otzar Hashira Vehapiyyut vol 1 #6022 and the introduction of the Mezack Azharot by R Yisroel Shaprio.] Professor A Grossman discusses his life and works at great length in his work Chachmei Tzarfat Harishonim pg 84-107.

Many commentaries were written on these different azharot by Rishonim and Achronhim. On the azharot of R Saadiah Goan we have the excellent encyclopedic work of R Yeruchem Fischel Perlow where he basically has and average of ten pages per every word of R Saadiah Goan he also discusses all the other opinions of the geonim and rishonim on the relevant topics. On the azharot of R Yitzchack Albargeloni we have the commentary Nesiv Mitzvosecha from R Shaul Hakohen from Gerba (he also wrote on the azharot of R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel.) On R Eliyhau Hazakan we have an early in depth commentary from him printed in the Kovetz al Yad (vol 11 part 1) from E Kuffer from some talmidim of talmidi Rabenu Tam. In 1900, R Mordechaei Slutski printed a pirish called Hiddur Zakon. This work has haskamas from the Meshech Chochma and Minchas Borouch. In 1972 R Yisroel Issur Shaprio (son of R Refael Shaprio) wrote an excellent in depth work called Matzack Azharot where he has a lengthy commentary on every word of R Eliyahu Hazakan. In 2001, Yitzhach Meiseles put out a complete critical edition of these azharot.

On the azharot of R shlomo Ibn Gabriel we have many works amongst them the Tashbatz’s Zohar Ha’rokeah. The Zohar Ha’rokeah has its own recent extensive edition from R A David including many useful footnotes and the notes of the Shoel U’mashiv, Rogatchver, R Yeruchem Fischel Perlow and R Menachem Kasher. A while back in a sinai a few pieces of the Adres’s notes were printed on the azharot of R Shlomo Ibn Gabriel.

Another person who we find wrote a commentary on the azharot of אזהרת ראשית was R Shmuel Chassid the father of R Yehudah Hachassid but they are only in manuscript as of now (see E E Aurbach ed., Arugot Habosem vol 4 pg 89 ) For a complete history of R Shmuel Hachassid see the article from Abraham Epstein in his Ketvim vol 1 pg 247-268.

So at least these few authors can not be the ones the Ibn Ezra and Rambam were referring to. So the Chida writes it must be they were referring to the many other composers of azharot. It is clear that this is the case as the Ramban writes in the beginning of his notes on the Rambam shorshim that there were many piyyutim and azharots written of the mitzvos.

General sources see: Chida in Shem Hagedolim Erech Azharot: Elbogen, Hatefilah b’yisroel pg 163: Extensive introduction of Prof. Yonah Frankel in the Goldshmidt Machzor on Shavous pg 11-14 and pgs 36-48: Introduction of R. A. David to his Zohar Harokeah.