Torah Genius, Infallibility and Augmented Intelligence

by Avinoam Fraenkel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Neturei Karta; ArtScroll, Arius, and Orangutans; Suicide and the Law of Rodef

Marc B. Shapiro

1. We have recently seen behavior by so-called religious Jews that is vile. I refer to the actions of Neturei Karta. Of course, we have all seen their antics in the past, but I think most of us looked at them as clowns and sick people that maybe we should feel sorry for. This is no longer the case. Now they are marching in support of the murderers of Jews, aligning themselves with the enemy, and attempting to destroy the State of Israel. They are doing this at the very time that Jews are being killed at war. It is true that in the past as well they openly aligned themselves with the PLO,[1] and R. Moshe Feinstein already in the late 1970s referred to Neturei Karta as reshaim.[2] But to be allied during wartime with Iran and Hamas is I think beyond what we have seen before.

Here you can see a video of a Neturei Karta delegation that went to Iran to pay respects after the death of President Raisi. Here a different delegation visits the Iranian ambassador to the U.N. to pay respects. Here they are in Qatar at the funeral of Ismail Haniyeh whose death they mourned in a public statement here. It is hard to imagine anything more obscene than this. What we have seen from Neturei Karta since October 7 goes way beyond making a hillul ha-shem.[3]

Until his death, the spiritual leader of this group was Rabbi Moshe Beck (1934-2021). Here you can see him showing his affection for the Iranian leader Ahmadenijad. In the ultimate obscenity, in his book Derekh ha-Hatzalah (Monsey, 2002), pp. 40ff., Beck actually explains why it is halakhically appropriate to congratulate terrorists on a “successful” operation, namely, when they murder Jews. Thus, it is entirely in line with Neturei Karta ideology for them to praise the October 7 “resistance.” Here is his outrageous conclusion (p. 44):

מותר לומר להפאלעסטינים יפה עשיתם שהרגתם, כיון שע“י דיבורים אלו יצמח הצלה להרבה מישראל המתנגדים לציונות

And what about the fact that even pious Jews will be hurt if Neturei Karta’s propaganda is successful and U.S. government aid to Israel is cut? Beck explains that this is not a problem, as the Zionists cannot be helped, even if the pious also would benefit (p. 41):

ועל אחת כמה וכמה לענין מורדים בה‘ וכופרים ומחטיאים כמו הציונים וכל כתותיהם, שבודאי נאסר הסיוע להם בכל אופן, אפילו שלא בענין העבירה, ואפילו יוצא תועלת מסיוע זה לצדיקים ועובדי ה‘

Over thirty years ago I was naive and thought that I might be able to have a productive correspondence with Beck. Here are three letters I received from him.

Regarding the third letter, I am not sure why he wrote that I “disguised” myself in my first two letters. I simply wrote to him with questions and never said or implied that I agreed with him in any way. In my second letter I actually strongly protested how he referred to Rav Kook. In his response to this letter he also answers my question how he could cite from R. Reuven Margaliyot’s commentary on Sefer Hasidim when R. Margaliyot was a religious Zionist whose book was published by Mossad ha-Rav Kook. (I never said that he was a maskil). In my third letter I attacked him for degrading great Torah scholars and I mentioned that R. Aharon Kotler supported the State of Israel. I never said he was a Zionist. My point was that once the State of Israel was declared, with the lives of millions of Jews depending on it, anti-Zionism in the sense of opposing the creation of a Jewish state was now no longer relevant. Once the State of Israel was created, anti-Zionism came to mean working to destroy the Jewish state, and thus putting millions of Jewish lives at risk. Satmar anti-Zionism is religiously based but remains entirely theoretical, even eschatological, and Satmar has always been absolutely opposed to allying with anti-Semites and terrorists and their supporters.)

See also here where a number of years ago I wrote the next few paragraphs (now updated slightly).

Readers should examine the following document, which is found in the Central Zionist Archives S25/4752

It is a copy of a letter sent to the Supreme Muslim Council in Jerusalem from Aryeh Leib Weissfish. Weissfish was later to become famous as one of the leaders of the Neturei Karta, and strangely enough he was also a great fan of Nietzsche. You can read about his colorful career here, where it mentions how he illegally entered Jordan in 1951 to bring a message from the Neturei Karta that Jordan should invade Jerusalem and the Neturei Karta would be its ally in this. When he was deported to Israel he was put on trial and sentenced to six months in prison.

In view of the fact that during World War II there was a fear that Germany would invade the Land of Israel and that this would also lead to the Arabs persecuting Jews, Weissfish wrote to the local Muslim leaders to let them know that the Old Yishuv type of Jews that he is speaking about are not involved in politics and that they oppose the Zionists. They have always treated the Arabs with respect and he therefore requests that these Jews be protected. He also offers to provide the names of the families who should be given this special treatment. As you can see from Yitzhak Ben-Zvi’s handwritten note at the bottom of the letter, Ben-Zvi copied it from the original letter which he found in the Supreme Muslim Council’s archives.

R. Shlomo Brody has recently published a fabulous book, with a great title, which is unfortunately very timely: Ethics of Our Fighters: A Jewish View on War and Morality. While I am sure I will have more to say about this book at a future time, I would for now just wish to add that when it comes to Neturei Karta and those of a similar mindset, I was wondering about some halakhic and ethical issues that Brody does not discuss. (In general, he does not discuss the home front.) For example, can such people be counted to a minyan? Are you allowed to give charity to them, and if not, how about the children who will suffer through no fault of their own? Can the children of such a family be kicked out of a yeshiva? If these people have businesses, should we boycott them, again, causing the children to suffer for the sins of their fathers? Or should we just ignore these people entirely? These questions are not only relevant when it comes to Neturei Karta, for as we have seen since October 7 there are many other enemies of Israel and the Jewish people. Some of them who support Hamas are themselves Jewish. As far as I know, there has not yet appeared an analysis of how such traitors are to be regarded in Jewish law.

2. A couple of people sent me something that was going around the internet asking what I thought, so I figured I would elaborate on the blog. Rashi, Deut. 1:12, quotes the Sifrei, Devarim, no. 13, that אריוס asked Rabbi Yose a question. In the ArtScroll translation of Rashi by R. Yisrael Isser Zvi Herczeg there is the following note on this passage: “Nothing other than what is mentioned here is known about this person. His name appears nowhere else in Torah literature.”

This is not exactly correct. As Louis Finkelstein points out in his edition of the Sifrei (p. 22), Tosefta Bava Metzia 3:11, records a question Arius asked the Sages. This is what appears in the important Erfurt manuscript of the Tosefta used by Zuckermandel in his edition, but Arius’ name does not appear in the Tosefta published in the back of the Talmud.[4]

In the updated version of the ArtScroll Rashi translation, they explain who Arius was (R. Herczeg had nothing to do with this update): “A 4^th century C.E. Christian theologian whose views on religion clashed with standard church teachings; his followers are called Arians. (An analysis of his question to R’ Yose appears in Likkutei Sichos, Vol. 34, p. 15.)

I do not know why someone working at ArtScroll decided it was important to add this information. I also do not know why the person who added the information did not see the immediate problem. Arius, who at most was only in the Land of Israel for a short time, was a fourth-century theologian in the period of the amoraim. How then could he be asking questions of the tanna R. Yose or any of the other tannaitic sages? This alone should have been enough to show that the Arius mentioned by the Sifrei is not the Christian theologian Arius. When the ArtScroll Rashi is next reprinted, the updated note should be deleted as it is clearly in error, and the original note should be reinserted. I have to say that I find it of interest that the updated note has a reference to the Likutei Sihot of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, a figure who does not appear often in ArtScroll publications. This reference should definitely remain.

Where did ArtScroll get the information in the new note? Perhaps from the entry on Arius in the Otzar Yisrael encyclopedia (vol. 2, pp. 192-193). The Otzar Yisrael entry states, without any evidence, that the R. Yose mentioned in the Sifrei is one of the amoraim named R. Yose, not the tanna. But there is no reason to assume this to be the case, and lots of reasons to assume it is not so. We are fortunate that the Otzar Yisrael entry has a bibliography and we are thus able to see where they got their information from: R. Elijah Benamozegh’s Em la-Mikra to Deut. 1:13, which goes on for many pages.

I have great respect for R. Benamozegh and have given a number of classes on him.[5] Yet as mentioned already, there is no reason to think that the R. Yose mentioned in the Sifrei is an amora as R. Benamozegh claims. We should assume that he is the second-century R. Yose ben Halafta for this is how the tanna R. Yose is mentioned in rabinic literature, namely, without his father’s name. I would also note that the Talmud records a number of R. Yose ben Halafta’s conversations with non-Jews. Therefore, his interaction with Arius makes perfect sense

As for Arius, Moshe David Herr believes that he must have been a convert to Judaism. Referring to his mention in Tosefta, Bava Metzia 3:11, Herr writes “This question, which manifests expert knowledge of the halakhah on the part of the inquirer, proves that he was a Jew.”[6]

Returning to R. Benamozegh, it needs to be mentioned that his commentary on the Torah suffers from the same problem as many others, in that as one who was up to date in modern historical scholarship and science, he tries to explain the Torah in the light of this knowledge. Yet mid-19^th century understandings in these areas has usually been rejected and thus cannot speak to 21^st century readers. On occasion, what he says will be found offensive by modern readers, such as his discussion of the curse of Canaan in his Em la-Mikra to Genesis 9:25. Here it is from R. Eliyahu Zini’s wonderful new edition.

Although it could be that R. Benamozegh himself held the liberal view of Tiedemann, the even-handed way he discusses the matter does not make for comfortable reading today.

R. Israel Lifshitz, the author of Tiferet Yisrael on the Mishnah, also liked to connect modern scientific discoveries with Torah and rabbinic texts. Unfortunately, not all of his information  was correct. Since R. Benamozegh mentions orangutans, let me tell you what R. Lifshitz has to say about them, which he must have read in some book or newspaper. In his commentary to Kil’ayim[7] 8:5, he states that in Africa orangutans are taught to chop trees and draw water, to wear human clothes and to sit at a table and eat with silverward. (In truth, orangatuns are not found in Africa but are native to parts of Asia.) And in case people were wondering, he also adds that despite the orangutan’s near-human characteristics, when it dies it is regarded like every other animal and does not create ritual impurity as do dead humans.[8]

Although, as mentioned, R. Lifshitz must have acquired his incorrect information about orangutans from some book or newspaper, I should note that the Talmud discusses how monkeys are capable of performing various tasks for humans and this might have influenced R. Lifshitz in assuming the same to be true of orangutans. The expression מעשה קוף is well known, and this page gives a number of talmudic references to actions of monkeys. However, the list is not complete and it omits Bava Kamma 101a which mentions a monkey dying wool with a particular dye. It also omits Yadayim 1:8 which refers to a monkey pouring water over a person’s hands. For those interested in the topic, R. Baruch Plotchek wrote an article on monkeys in the Bible and Talmud.[9] One of the interesting things he points out is that Kohelet Rabbah comments on Eccl. 6:11: כִּי יֵשׁ–דְּבָרִים הַרְבֵּה, מַרְבִּים הָבֶל, that included in the “vanity” is the raising of monkeys. This shows that when this Midrash was written, people, presumably including Jews, kept monkeys as pets. Also of interest is that Plotchek identifies what we can term proto-Darwinian ideas in some rabbinic statements. As far as I know, he was the first to make this point, which was later picked up by others trying to reconcile Torah and evolution.

3. In the last post I pointed to an interesting explanation of R. Chaim Heller that solved a textual problem. Here is another one he offered: Piskei Tosafot (at the back of the Vilna Shas), Shabbat, no. 130, states that in a city that has pigs, the buildings in it are exempt from the law of mezuzah: עיר שיש בה חזירים פטורה מן המזוזה

There is no talmudic source for this passage and on its face it is astounding, as why should the presence of pigs mean that Jews don’t need a mezuzah? If followed in practice, this text would mean that no city in the Christian world needs mezuzot. (In fact, from statements of Ashkenazic rishonim we know that in medieval Ashkenaz many people did not affix mezuzot, and perhaps this laxity arose from the view recorded in Piskei Tosafot.[10])

R. Heller suggested that there was a scribal error and that instead of עיר שיש בה חזירים the text should read דיר שיש בה חזירים, that is, a pigsty does not need a mezuzah.[11] I don’t think this emendation is found in any of R. Heller’s writings, but it is mentioned in his name by Dr. Tibor Juda, the late son-in-law of R. Pinchas Hirschprung,[12] in this video about R. Abraham Price, beginning at 36:38. R. Price was a student of R. Heller in Berlin before he came to Toronto. Not surprising, Abraham Rosenberg, whom I discussed in previous posts here and here, also mentions this emendation which he must have heard from R. Heller.[13]

This emendation is actually mentioned previously by R. Meir Soloveitchik in his Ha-Meir la-Aretz, p. 64a.[14] Here is the title page of the book.

R. Soloveitchik, after mentioning the emendation, offers his own alternative emendation:

ועוד נ“ל יותר טוב להגיה, עיר שאין בה חזירים כו‘, דטנופת הרבה מצוי בה והו“ל כמקום שהתינוקות מצוין בה

Before people start trying to figure out how this R. Soloveitchik is related to R. Chaim, let me note that there was at least one other Soloveitchik family in Europe, and this family was not levi’im like the more famous Soloveitchik family. R. Meir Soloveitchik came from the less distinguished Soloveitchiks.[15]

4. In my last post I dealt with euthanasia and suicide, and in response to that Ariel Fuss sent me something that I found truly astounding. If you had described it to me without me seeing it “inside”, I would have thought it was Purim Torah, or perhaps a halakhic paradox of the sort I have written about.[16] But no, we are talking about a real piece of rabbinic learning. Here is R. Mordechai Shlomo Carlebach, Havatzelet ha-Sharon, Vayikra (2), pp. 476-477.

R. Carlebach assumes that suicide falls under the prohibition of murder. While there are those who disagree (see Encyclopedia Talmudit, s. v. me’abed atzmo le-da’at), the majority opinion is that suicide is a form of murder, and this seems to be Maimonides’ opinion as well. R. Carlebach raises the issue of what to do if you see someone about to commit suicide. When someone is about to murder another, there is an obligation to kill the rodef. If suicide is a form of murder, R. Carlebach reasons that one who is going to kill himself is to be regarded as a rodef (of himself) and according to the halakhah you would be obligated to kill the man before he killed himself.

At first glance this seems crazy, since what sense does it make to kill a man because he is going to kill himself? But as R. Carlebach points out, by killing the man before he kills himself, you prevent him from violating the prohibition against murder, which will be a great benefit to him in the World to Come. R. Carlebach notes that when he presented this idea to R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, R. Auerbach liked what he said. Of course, it is impossible for us to know whether R. Auerbach really took the argument seriously or just smiled because it is such an interesting and counterintuitive approach.

When I shared this text with R. Moshe Maimon, and wondered whether R. Carlebach meant what he wrote seriously, he replied:

I think he means it seriously, though in a Talmudic sense, not in a practical sense. RSZA similarly approved it from a pilpulistic standpoint, knowing that R. Carlebach was in no way insinuating that this should dictate practical Halachah. To the halachic mind it is a form of mercy killing, since you are saving him from the sin of murder. Of course, practically, it could never be implemented since the modern sensibilities (at least from the Besamim Rosh and on!) dictate that one committing suicide be viewed as a victim rather than a perpetrator.

Speaking of the laws of rodef, there is another astounding passage in R. Shimon Sofer, Hitorerut Teshuvah, vol. 2, no. 157:2. R. Sofer states that if you see a cat chasing after a chicken to kill it, if the only way you can save the chicken is by killing the cat, then there is a mitzvah to kill the cat. He actually compares this to the law of rodef with a human. (At the end of the responsum he also mentions hashavat avedah and tza’ar baalei hayyim.)

See, however, R. Netanel Meoded of Hong Kong, Mizrah Shemesh, vol. 2, p. 287 n. 195, that R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach rejected the notion that there is a concept of rodef with regard to animals.

Regarding R. Sofer’s Hitorerut Teshuvah, the volumes are unusual as right at the top of each page it tell the reader not to rely on the halakhic conclusions in practice. I don’t know of any other responsa volume that does such a thing. In a future post I will cite sources that say that one does not need to pay attention when an author tells us not to rely on his rulings in practice.

5. Continuing with the new pictures of R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, here is one of him and Chief Rabbi Isaac Herzog.[17] It is from R. Herzog’s visit to Montreux in the summer of 1950.

Here is R. Weinberg in conversation with R. Bezalel Rakow, at the time a rebbe in the Montreux yeshiva and later the rav of Gateshead.

Here is R. Weinberg with Robert and Francisca Goldschmidt at the wedding of their daughter Reine to Schmuel Höchster. The Goldschmidts owned a kosher pension in Montreux and their grandson is the famous R. Pinchas Goldschmidt.

Here is R. Weinberg with Mr. Yechezkel Rand and his wife. Rand was a leader of the Montreux Jewish community.

Here is R. Weinberg with his student R. Yaakov Fink. R. Fink was able to leave Germany and make his way to Argentina in 1939. He would later serve as chief rabbi of Brazil and later of Argentina before becoming av beit din in Haifa.

The story of his aliyah is of interest. Already in 1950 he discussed moving to Israel with the Hazon Ish. He was concerned about whether this was proper since he felt a responsibility to his community in Argentina. The Hazon Ish told him without hesitation that he should come to Israel. He thought that the education of R. Fink’s children, which was problematic in the Diaspora, came before all other concerns, and therefore he – and anyone else – who could come on aliyah should do so.

Interestingly, on returning home he first traveled to the United States where he also discussed the matter of his aliyah with R. Aharon Kotler. R. Kotler had the opposite approach, telling him that he must not abandon his community. Perhaps to let him know that he should not give up all hope of aliyah, R. Kotler added that when he himself goes to Israel, then R. Fink can also come.

Years later R. Fink decided to move to Israel, after being chosen as av beit din of Haifa. He had obviously decided not to follow R. Kotler’s opinion in this matter. Yet an amazing thing was to happen. R. Fink flew to Europe with his family and spent a few weeks in Montreux with R. Weinberg, whom he had not seen since before World War II. The pictures above and below are from that visit. He then went to Paris from where he was to fly to Israel. When he boarded the plane, and saw more religious travelers than usual, he inquired what the occasion was. It was then that he learned of the passing of R. Aharon Kotler and that his coffin was being brought to Israel on that very plane. So in the end it happened just as R. Kotler told him years before, that when he would go to Israel then R. Fink could also go![18]

Here is a picture of R. Weinberg with R. Fink on the left. On the right is R. Joseph Blumenfeld who held the position of av beit din in Tel Aviv. He also lived in the United States during the 1950s and while there he printed his edition and commentary of the medieval work Kaftor va-Ferah by R. Ishtori ha-Parhi.

Here is the title page as it appears on Otzar ha-Chochmah.

Notice how the original place and date is missing and ניו יורק תשי“ח has been added to the title page. That should raise everyone’s suspicions. If you look at the version on hebrewbooks.org you can see why the original place and date were removed.

On the title page R. Blumenfeld wrote שנה עשירית למדינת ישראל. This can still be read on the copy found on hebrewbooks.org, although someone crossed this out, not liking R. Blumenfeld’s Zionist sentiments. 

Here is another example of the title page that I copied many years ago in the library of the Jewish Theological Seminary.

While in the United States, R. Blumenfeld obviously got to know Louis Finkelstein. When his work appeared he sent him a copy with a nice inscription and Finkelstein donated it to the library. The inscription might imply that Finkelstein assisted him financially in publishing the work.

Regarding R. Fink, although R. Weinberg thought very highly of him,[19] there was one time when R. Fink disappointed him. In 1952 when he was appointed chief rabbi in Brazil there was an article on this in Ha-Pardes.[20] Although the article is signed by someone else, R. Weinberg believed that the biographical information in it was provided by R. Fink. In describing R. Fink’s background it states:

תלמיד מובהק של הרב הגאון ה‘ אברהם שטיינברג מברודי, שאצלו למד בשעה שישב בעיר הבירה וינה, בשנות המלחמה הראשונה ואז שמש גם את הגאון העצום ר‘ יוסף אנגל וגדולי ישראל אחרים. משומעי שעוריו של הרב יחיאל וינברג, העילוי מסלובודקה בסמינר הרבנים בברלין

R. Weinberg wrote to R. Joseph Apfel, R. Fink’s classmate at the Berlin Rabbinical Seminary, with his annoyance at the above formulation. He assumed that R. Fink, having moved into more haredi circles, was embarrassed to acknowledge that he had been an actual registered student at the Berlin Rabbinical Seminary, and therefore wrote that he just attended R. Weinberg’s shiurim at the Seminary.[21] In an earlier post on the Seforim Blog here, Menachem Butler notes that when R. Yosef Zvi Dunner passed away, the obituary in Ha-Modia wrote:

At 19 he wanted to study in the yeshivos of Lithuania, but his father felt that due to the shortage of Rabbanim in Germany, it would be better for him to remain in the country and study in the beis medrash of Harav Yechiel Yaakov Weinberg, zt”l, author of Seridei Eish. For four years, the young Rav Yosef Tzvi studied in this beis medrash, where he was awarded semichah at a young age after astounding those testing him with his penetrating understanding of all four sections of the Shulchan Aruch. He was granted the title yoreh, yadin.

Instead of writing that R. Dunner studied at the Berlin Rabbinical Seminary, Ha-Modia invented a new institution, the beis medrash of R. Weinberg.

This is a phenomenon we have sometimes seen with people who studied at Yeshiva University and/or RIETS but in later years did not want to acknowledge this. At most they would say that they heard shiurim from the Rav, without noting that they were actually registered students in YU or RIETS.

Returning to the pictures, here is a one of R. Weinberg’s father.

Here is his mother.

Here is R. Weinberg’s mother and other members of his family at his father’s grave in Ciechanowiec, Poland.

6. In the latest Hakirah (vol. 35, Summer 2024), R. Shmuel Lesher mentions Chaim Bloch’s Passover Haggadah forgery. Bloch claimed to have had a 1521 manuscript where instead of “Pour out your wrath on the nations that do not know you”, the mansucript had, “Pour out your love on the nations that know you”. This is such an obvious forgery, from a person whose forgeries have become legendary (see my post here, R. Jonathan Sacks included this forged text in his own Haggadah.

On p. 286 n. 12 Lesher states that assuming Bloch’s Haggadah passage is a forgery, the motivation for the forgery remains unclear. Let me first state that there is no reason for “assuming” it is a forgery, as there is no doubt whatsoever. As for the motivation, this too is clear. Bloch was very interested in apologetics and softening anti-Gentile passages that appear in the Talmud and later rabbinic literature. He even devoted an entire (very dishonest) book to this topic, Ve-Da Mah She-Tashiv (New York, 1962). In my post here I include a page from Bloch’s Heikhal le-Divrei Hazal u-Fitgameihem (New York, 1948), p. 9. Here Bloch invents an entire story about how before the war there was a collection of letters in Vienna dealing with the sections of the Talmud that were removed by non-Jewish censors. He tells us that R. Elazar Horowitz wrote a letter to R. Judah Aszod stating that R. Moses Sofer did not wish to print a Talmud with the censored sections. The reason R. Sofer supposedly gave was that it was divine providence that these passages were removed, and once they have been removed they should not be put back. Based on additional imaginary letters, Bloch tells us more fairy tales about other nineteenth-century rabbinic leaders who agreed that the censored passages should remain out, because of the antisemitism that could be generated by them.

Bloch’s forgery of the Gentile-friendly “Pour out your love” passage is no different than his other forgeries dealing with rabbinic texts that present a negative view of non-Jews and that were often cited in non-Jewish attacks on the Talmud and rabbinic literature.

* * * * * *

[1] See Menachem Keren-Kratz, “Satmar and Neturei Karta: Jews Against Zionism,” Modern Judaism 43 (Feb., 2023), pp. 66ff.
[2] Mesorat Moshe, vol. 2, p. 432.
[3] It could be that my language, implying that their current behavior is worse than a hillul ha-shem, is inappropriate, as in some respects hillul ha-shem is the worst imaginable sin. See Yoma 86a that unlike other sins, only death can atone for hillul ha-shem. The Hazon Ish pointed out that the three great sins for which one must martyr oneself rather than violate could indeed be pushed aside (i.e., violated) in order to prevent a hillul ha-shem. (Obviously, this type of decision is only something that the greatest rabbinic leaders could rule on.) See Shlomo Cohen, Pe’er ha-Dor, vol. 3, p. 185.

R. Samuel Mohilever writes:

חלול ה‘ היותר גדול המאריך גלותנו והמעכב גאולתנו ופדות נפשנו הוא אשר על ידי רוע מעשינו יחולל כבוד אומתנו בגוים לאמר: ראו מעשה העם הזה, אשר לפי דעתו הוא הנבחר מכל גויי הארצות להיות לעם סגולה עליון על כל, ומעשיו גרועים ואבדה חכמת חכמיו ודעתו שפלה וגם באמונתו ערב אמונות שוא וטפל ועוד הגדיל כי עשה את הטפל לעיקר

Mohilever, Berit ha-Ahavah ve-ha-Shalom, ed. Munitz (Jerusalem, 2023), p. 210.

Here is one way hillul ha-shem was dealt with in years past: R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai, Ma’agal Tov ha-Shalem, ed. Freimann (Jerusalem, 1934) p. 88, mentions how the leaders of the Jewish community in Modena, Italy cut off the beard of a rabbi who created a hillul ha-shem. See the explanation of the passage in R. Meir Mazuz, Mi-Gedolei Yisrael, vol 1, p. 218. As R. Mazuz notes, punishing someone by cutting off his hair is mentioned in Beit Yosef, Even ha-Ezer 16, s.v. כתוב and Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 16:4. I do not know if this only means hair of the head or if it also includes the beard. Aaron Chorin, who would later become a leading advocate of religious reform, was also threatened with having his beard cut off. See R. Nosson Dovid Rabinowich, Safra ve-Sayfa (Jerusalem, 2013), pp. 139 n. 37, 171.

Hillul ha-shem is sometimes written as hillul ha-Shem or hillul Hashem. Yet this is a mistake. It is not Hashem (with a capital “H”, implying “God, or ha-Shem), but hashem, (or ha-shem). That is, it is not a desecration of God but of His name. Thus, one should not write ‘חילול ה but rather חילול השם. See Lev. 22:32: ולא תחללו את שם קדשי. Nissim Dana titled his 1989 translation of one of R. Abraham Maimonides’ works ספר המספיק לעובדי השם. Yet the last two words should be ‘לעובדי ה.

Regarding the use of “Hashem”, I found something very confusing in the ArtScroll Stone Chumash. In place of the Tetragrammaton, ArtScroll does not use the word “Lord” but “HASHEM”, as this is how people pronounce the Tetragrammaton. While ArtScroll is the first translation to adopt this approach, it does have a certain logic. However, this logic breaks down a few times on p. 319 when the ArtScroll commentary attempts to explain what occurs at the beginning of parashat Va-Era. For example, “Or Ha-Chaim comments that God’s essence is represented by the name HASHEM.” This makes no sense, as there is no name HASHEM. The commentary should have written that “God’s essence is represented by the four letter name of God.”

Here is what Maimonides says about one who separates himself from the community, and it certainly applies to Neturei Karta (Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Teshuvah 3:11):

A person who separates himself from the community even though he has not transgressed any sins, but has separated himself from the congregation of Israel and does not fulfill mitzvot together with them, does not take part in their hardships or join in their [communal] fasts, but rather goes on his own individual path as if he is from another nation and not one of them [the Jewish people], does not have a portion in the world to come

[4] The version that appears in Midrash Tannaim, Devarim, ed. Hoffmann, p. 7, has the name as ארווס. However, as R. David Zvi Hoffmann points out, this is an error for אריוס. See ibid., pp. 250, 253. The version that appears in the medieval Bereshit Rabbati of R. Moses ha-Darshan, ed. Albeck, p. 201, has the name אריסטו. I think it is obvious that not recognizing the name Arius, someone changed it to Aristotle, without realizing that Aristotle (fourth century BCE) lived hundreds of years before R. Yose (second century CE). See also here.

Regarding Aristotle, while some traditional Jewish sources speak highly of his learning, others refer to him in all sorts of negative ways. R. Joseph Solomon Delmedigo, in his praise of R. Elijah Mizrahi, actually compares his intellect to that of Aristotle. I do not know of any other such passage in rabbinic literature in which a rabbi is praised by comparing him to Aristotle. See Delmedigo, Novelot ha-Hokhmah, p. 32b:

ששכל הרא“ם רם ונשא . . . כשכל ארסטו‘ט בדקות ועומק ויושר

See also R. Meir Mazuz’s comment on this passage, Mi-Gedolei Yisrael, vol. 1, p. 359 n. 27.

[5]  See here and here (the first of three parts).
[6] “The Historical Significance of the Dialogues between Jewish Sages and Roman Dignitaries,” Scripta Hierosolymitana 22 (1971), p. 149.
[7] The word is pronounced kil’ayim and not kilayim, as there is a sheva under the ל. People sometimes mispronounce it as kilaim, as if there is a patah under the ל and a hirik under the א of כלאים. This reminds me of another common mistake. If you google you will find that many refer to the concept of “shomer pesaim (petaim).” Yet this is a mistake. The verse in Psalms 116:6 reads: שֹׁמֵר פְּתָאיִם. The second word is pronounced pesayim (petayim), as the א is silent. Another example where the א is silent and many people make a mistake is with the name דניאל. Even people who have this name often pronounce it in Hebrew as Doniel (or Doniellah for women). Yet the name is properly pronounced Doniyel: דָּנִיֵּאל. This is unlike the name אֲרִיאֵל where the tzere is under the א and the word is pronounced Ariel. Another common mistake is that people often refer to sidelocks at peyot, but it should be pe’ot, as there is no yud in the word.
[8] In 1876 R. Abraham Bick published Yesod Ohel Moed. I cannot tell you where the book appeared, as there are two title pages, one for Pressburg and one for Lemberg.

The language on the title page is very unusual in its detail of what the book contains. On p. 53b he rejects R. Lifshitz’s identification of the orangutan with a creature mentioned in the Jerusalem Talmud, stating that he has seen an orangutan at the Hamburg zoo and it does not match the talmudic description. He then makes the following statement, affirming the truth of the Sages’ scientific statements even if modern man has trouble accepting them:

וקבלת חז“ל נאמנה מאוד ולא ראינו אינה ראי‘ ונודע שחוקרי הארץ לא יכלו לתור תיכונית אפריקא וגם במציאות בני אדם באמעריקא נוכח כפות רגלינו הכחישו כולם עד שנודע שידיעתם הבל וגם פה חז“ל ידעו הכל בסוד ה‘ ליראיו

[9] Ha-Mitzpeh, Oct. 25, 1912, pp. 4-5, Nov. 1, 1912, pp. 4-5, Nov. 15, 1912, p. 5, Nov. 22, 1912, p. 5.
[10] See R. Mordechai Menahem Honig’s learned note in Yerushatenu 1 (2007), p. 213 n. 43, which provides all the relevant information about the Piskei Tosafot passage and how this idea is also cited from the ירושלמי. See also Saul Lieberman, Ha-Yerushalmi ki-Feshuto, Introduction, pp. 26-27; Daniel Sperber, Minhagei Yisrael, vol. 8, pp. 97-98, n. 6.

Regarding laxity with mezuzot and the notion that a city with pigs is exempt, see R. Aaron ha-Kohen of Lunel, Orhot Hayyim, ed. Schlesinger (Berlin, 1902), vol. 2, p. 195:

השתא שאין העולם נזהרין משום האי טעמא דסמכינן אהא דאמרינן עיר שיש בה חזירים פטורה מן המזוזה. וכתב הר“י מקורבל שאין זה נמצא בשום מקום לא בתלמוד ולא בירושלמי

[11] R. Eliezer Waldenberg, Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 5, no. 18, suggests another emendation: שער instead of עיר. See also R. Ovadiah Yosef, Yabia Omer, vol. 3, Yoreh Deah, no. 16.
[12]  I treasure the conversations I had with Dr. Juda when I visited Toronto and he honored me by attending various talks I delivered. In one conversation he told me of the high esteem R. Hirschprung had for Rav Kook, and how R. Hirschprung noted that while R. Joseph Hayyim Sonnenfeld was certainly a great talmid chacham, in no way is he to be regarded as on the same level as R. Kook. Regarding R. Hirschprung, let me also record what I heard from R. Shlomo Goren in 1985, when he spoke at Beit Midrash le-Torah (BMT) in Jerusalem, that R. Hirschprung was the only one alive who knew the entire Talmud by heart.
[13] Tikunei Nushaot bi-Yerushalmi, last page of the book (unnumbered; called to my attention by Moshe Dembitzer).
[14] Moshe Dembitzer informed me that R. Moses Shimon Sivitz, Ha-Mashbiah, vol. 3, p. 53b, also suggests this emendation. R. Baruch Epstein, Barukh She-Amar, p. 75, likewise suggests this.
[15] See here. There was another famous Soloveitchik, Max Soloveitchik from Kovno, who wrote perhaps the earliest Hebrew book on biblical criticism and was a government minister in Lithuania. See here. I don’t know which Soloveitchik family he was from.
[16] See here.
[17] The pictures in this post are found in Ganzach Kiddush ha-Shem in Bnei Brak. I thank R. Abraham Abba Weingort for his help with identifying some of the people in the pictures from Montreux.
[18] Fink, Tiferet Yaakov, pp. 49, 56 (first pagination).
[19] See for instance R. Weinberg’s letter in Fink, Tiferet Yaakov, p. 348.
[20] November 1952, pp. 28-29.
[21] See R. Weinberg’s letter in Ha-Ma’yan 32 (Tamuz 5752), pp. 16-17. For a picture of R. Fink’s Berlin Rabbinical Seminary semikhah, see Fink, Tiferet Yaakov, p. 339. The semikhah is signed by R. Weinberg, R. Samuel Gruenberg, and R. Alexander (Shimon Zvi) Altmann.

KEDUSHAH, KEDOSHAH, OR B’K’DUSHAH in KEDUSHAH D’YESHIVAH?

Wayne Allen

In his classic study of the content and evolution of Jewish prayer, Abraham Millgram (Jewish Worship, p. 134) asserts that “the most significant addition to the liturgy after its redaction at Yavneh was that of the Kedushah, a prayer in which the community of Israel together with the heavenly host proclaim God’s holiness.” Yavneh was the town in which rabbinic Judaism retrenched after the destruction of the Second Temple in the year 70 C.E. Millgram further contends that the Kedushah prayer “is obviously mystic in nature” and Babylonian in origin (ibid.). It was during the early Rabbinic period that Babylonian mystics “were engrossed in speculations regarding the nature, appearance, and functions of the…angelic sanctification of God” as described in Isaiah 6:3 and Ezekiel 3:12 which, along with Psalm 146:10 make up the central elements of the Kedushah prayer, surrounded by appropriate introductions and connecting phrases.

In his commentary on the Bible, Rabbi Meir Leib ben Yehiel Mikhel Malbim (1809 – 1897) explains that when, as described by the prophet Isaiah, the angels on high proclaim God’s holiness (kedushah, in Hebrew), they are, in essence, attesting that “God is separated from earth in that He is immaterial; He is separated from time in that He is everlasting or eternal; and He is also separated from the heavens in that He is insubstantial.” This threefold separation is what characterizes holiness. Rabbi Hayim Halevi Donin (To Pray as a Jew, p. 126–7) adds that “not only is God above and beyond man and his world, but the angels proclaim God to be above and beyond their world as well” leading to the inevitable question: “if the angels so proclaim, can mortal man say less?”

When the Babylonians introduced the inclusion of the Kedushah, it was fittingly placed immediately before the third blessing of the Amidah which concludes with an affirmation of God’s holiness. It quickly became the apotheosis of the public prayer service. After some initial resistance, the Kedushah gained currency among Palestinian Jews as well. Millgram (Jewish Worship, p. 136) surmises that Jews unable to attend synagogue services daily felt deprived of the privilege to recite Kedushah so the rabbis inserted an abbreviated form of Kedushah in the text leading up to the first blessing before the recital of the morning Shema as well as incorporating the key verses of the Kedushah in the paragraph near the end of the morning service, perhaps for late-comers. This form of the Kedushah did not require a quorum of worshippers, thus enabling all worshippers – whether or not in synagogue – to declare God’s holiness in the mystical words of the prophets Isaiah and Ezekiel. To distinguish the standing, public recital of the Kedushah during the reader’s repetition of the Amidah, the early recital of the Kedushah was termed Kedushah D’ Yeshivah (the “sitting” Kedushah or Kedushah D’Yotzer, referring to the blessing it precedes, cf. Resp. Otzar HaGe’onim, Berakhot No. 46) and the later recital of the kedushah was called Kedushah D’Sidra (See Babylonian Talmud, Sotah 49a; Shabbat 116b; Resp. Otzar HaGe’onim No. 320).

It is the Kedushah D’Yotzer that is the subject of a wording dispute. Four Hebrew words describe the manner in which the angels proclaim God’s holiness. The dispute centers on whether these four words constitute two pairs of phrases with each phrase consisting of a noun and a modifying adjective, or one phrase consisting of a noun followed by two modifying adjectives and then a proper noun. The first view would read this phrase as בְּשָׂפָה בְרוּרָה, meaning “with clear speech,” followed by וּבִנְעִימָה קְדשָּׁה, meaning “and in sacred melody.” The readers would treat the four-word phrase as if there were a comma between the two pairs of words even if a comma did not appear in the text. According to the second view, the phrase should read בְּשָׂפָה בְרוּרָה וּבִנְעִימָה. קְדֻשָּׁה, meaning “in clear and melodious speech. [They proclaim] the Kedushah.” On the first view, the phrase is simply descriptive of the way the angels would proclaim God’s holiness, without indicating the nature of the proclamation. On the second view, the phrase describes the way the angels recite the Kedushah. A survey of various prayerbooks demonstrates how this dispute plays out.

Prior to the publication of the Artscroll prayerbook in 1984, the most popular siddurim used in Orthodox synagogues were the De Sola Pool prayerbook and the Birnbaum prayerbook. The Traditional Prayer Book for Sabbath and Festivals was edited by Rabbi David De Sola Pool who served Congregation Shearith Yisrael, the Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue in New York City for more than forty years. His acknowledged erudition led to the official adoption by the Rabbinical Council of America of this prayerbook for all Orthodox congregations in the United States in 1961. Both the 1940 and 1960 edition (p. 53) translated the disputed phrase as:

Mutually accepting for themselves His heavenly rule, in unison they all give one another the word to hallow their Creator in serene, pure utterance of sacred harmony…

That De Sola Pool considered the first view as the correct one is confirmed by the punctuation in the Hebrew text which puts a period after the word Kedoshah which is vocalized with a holom, that is, a dotted vav, making it an “o” as in “so” sound, and rendering it as the modifier of “ne’imah.” Likewise, Ha-Siddur Ha-Shalem edited by Philip Birnbaum and mass distributed by Hebrew Publishing Company adopts the same view. The 1949 edition reads (p. 73):

In serene spirit, with pure speech and sacred melody, they all exclaim in unison and with reverence…

The Hebrew is vocalized the same way as De Sola Pool.

The series of prayer books published for or by the Conservative movement follows suit. The Prayer Book, edited by Rabbi Ben-Zion Bokser, long-serving rabbi of the Forest Hills Jewish Center in Queens, New York, and published by Hebrew Publishing Company in 1961 reads (p. 47):

They sing a hymn of allegiance to the Divine power, each bidding the other go be first in acclaiming their Creator, With soft and clear tones, they chant in unison a sacred melody declaring…

Bokser took the editorial liberty of interpolating the action taken by the angels, i.e. chanting in unison, to make the word flow smoother but he obviously holds that the text is composed of two pairs of phrases with a noun (“tones” in the first phrase and “melody” in the second) and a modifier (“soft and clear” in the first phrase and “sacred” in the second).

The Sim Shalom prayerbook, based on the work of the eminent liturgist Rabbi Jules Harlow, was published by the Rabbinical AHssembly in 1998. Here, the disputed phrase is rendered (p. 97):

One to another they vow loyalty to God’s sovereignty; one with another they join to hallow their Creator with serenity, pure speech, and sacred song, in unison, chanting with reverence…

With his talent for a more poetic rendering of Hebrew, Harlow matches the phrase “one to another” to “one with another” in describing the angelic choir. Notably, Harlow also give his nod to the first view, supported again by the Hebrew text with a comma between the two phrases and the vocalization of K’doshah.

Interestingly, the Jewish Welfare Board, tasked with unenviable mission of producing a prayer book that would serve Jewish troops of all affiliations, translated the disputed phrase in its 1969 High Holiday Prayer Book for Jewish Personnel in the Armed Forces as follows (p. 101):

All of them act with harmonious accord, with purity of purpose and with united strength to perform reverently the will of their Creator. They all break forth into song of pure and holy praise, while they bless, glorify, and proclaim…

The “song of pure and holy praise” conforms with the first view of the disputed phrase. Also of note, the description of the angelic proclamation as a “song” conforms to the Talmudic text as will be noted below.

In contrast, since 1984 and in line with siddurim published in Israel, the second view has ascended in prominence. The Complete Artscroll Siddur (1992 edition, p. 87), translated by Rabbi Nosson Scherman, is paradigmatic:

Then they all accept upon themselves the yoke of heavenly sovereignty from one another and grant permission from one another to sanctify the One Who formed them, with tranquility, with clear articulation, and with sweetness. All of them as one proclaim His holiness and say with awe…

While the identification of the name of the angelic proclamation as the Kedushah is not explicit, this translation accepts the notion that “clear articulation and sweetness” go together in describing it, clearly evident in the Hebrew and its punctuation with a period after the word u-v’ne’imah. This is a pattern followed by Siddur Rinat Yisrael, the mainstream Israeli prayerbook and the popular Koren Siddur under the guidance of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks.

The question of which view is correct or which version is the more authentic is not easily resolved. One of the earliest Jewish prayerbooks, the ninth century Seder Rav Amram (Goldschmidt ed., p. 13), is ambiguous. Lacking any punctuation or explication, the four-word Hebrew phrase in question can be read either way. The same is true with Mahzor Vitry, an enhanced prayerbook produced by the twelfth century school of Rabbi Shlomo Yitzhaqi of Troyes (Horowitz ed., Part I, p. 65). However, the Frumkin edition of Seder Rav Amram published in 1912 notes (p. 188) that a British Museum manuscript vocalized the text to read “k’doshah” in reference to the angelic melody, supporting the first view, while RaShI’s commentary on Isaiah 6:3 (“Holy, holy, holy! God of Hosts—Whose presence fills all the earth!”) includes the observation: “This is the basis for the prayer in Yotzer Ohr, Kedushah: all together proclaim,” that supports the second view. It seems like the Tosafists agree (Babylonian Talmud, Hagigah 13b, s.v. mi-zei-atan).

Fourteenth century Spanish Rabbi David Abudraham, aware of the dispute, seeks to resolve it in his authoritative compendium on Jewish prayer. In the 1963 edition of Sefer Abudraham (p. 73), he explains the parallelism in the text. “Because the author called the language of the angels ‘clear,’ by extension, he also called the melody ‘sacred.’” In other words, the phrase in question consists of two pairs of words, each pair with a noun and a modifying adjective, implying that the text ought to be read as safah berurah and ne’imah kedoshah. He goes on to acknowledge that “some read ‘Kedushah,’ but the first version is correct.” In his multi-volume study of Jewish prayer, Netiv Binah (Vol. I, p. 235, n. 8), Rabbi Y. Jacobson cites Abudraham’s opinion as decisive. He also includes as support the Yemenite prayerbook that reads u-v’ne’imah t’horah, that is, “and with pure melody.” Even though the wording differs from the Ashkenazi prayerbook (t’horah instead of k’doshah), Yemeni Jews agree that the word that follows after “ne’imah” is an adjective. Hence, “Kedushah” would be incorrect.

But all is not settled. Complicating matters, thirteenth century authority on Jewish law, Rabbi Tzedekiah ben Abraham Anaw (Shibbolei Ha-Leket, Sec 13) reports that he had found a text ascribed to eighth century Rabbi Natronai Gaon that reads: “with clear speech, melodiously, and devoutly.” On this version, the phrase in question uses three terms to describe the manner in which the angels proclaim God’s holiness: clearly, melodiously, and devoutly. It certainly does not comport well with the second view that specifies that the angels recite Kedushah, but neither does it support the first. Likewise, the prayerbook of Italian Jews, Mahzor Italiani (Luzatto, ed., Vol. I, p. 14) reads: b’safah berurah, b’ne’imah, u’vik’dushah, best translated as “with clear speech, melodiously, and with sacred devotion.”

To sum up, there are actually three views on the proper reading of the phrase in question. The first view would stipulate reading: b’safah berurah, u-v’ne’imah k’doshah. This view is supported by Natronai Gaon, the British Museum manuscript of Seder Rav Amram, the Yemenite Siddur, and Abudraham. The second view would stipulate reading: b’safah berurah u-v’ne’imah, Kedushah. This view is supported by RaShI and the Tosafists. And the third view would stipulate reading: b’safah berurah, b’ne’imah, u’vik’dushah. This view is supported by the opinion of Natronai Gaon and the Mahzor Italiani. Jewish worshippers, then, are left with a conundrum. Each view has its defenders.

However, three further considerations make a better case for the first view. First, the preponderance of authorities favors this view. Late thirteenth century Spanish Rabbi Yom Tov Ishbili (Hiddushei Ha-RITVA, Meg. 23b, s.v. u-midivrei rabbotai) mentions the tradition of his teachers reciting b’safa berurah u-v’ne’imah kedoshah kulam k’ehad onim b’eimah v’omrim b’yir’ah Kedushah, meaning with clear speech and in sacred melody, together as one, the angels say the Kedushah with trepidation. The RITVA acknowledges that the angels recite the Kedushah. But they do so with clear speech and sacred melody (ne’imah k’doshah) which is the reading of the first view. In fact, reading k’doshah as Kedushah would make no sense since Kedushah here would be redundant, being mentioned at the end. Fifteenth century Spanish Rabbi Abraham Saba (Tzror Ha-Mor, Bereshit, s.v. v’od) identifies two kinds of speech: what comes from the mouth and what comes from the heart. The latter is the superior and is endemic to the angels. He implies that the distinction is embedded in the phrase in question: safah berurah and ne’imah k’doshah. Sixteenth century Turkish Rabbi Moses Alshikh (Commentary on Exodus 28, s.v. v’hayya) also seems to follow b’safah berurah, u-v’ne’imah k’doshah.

Further, Rabbi Joseph Karo (Bet Yosef on Tur, Orah Hayyim 59, s.v. katuv) cites the Orhot Hayyim who accepts the first view and adds “I heard that the leading authorities of the generation follow this version.” Likewise, Rabbi Moses Isserles, agrees (Darkhei Moshe HaKatzar, Orah Hayyim 59:2) and, in Tur, Orah Hayyim 59, n. 2 states that “this is how it is arranged in our prayerbooks.” Eighteenth century Rabbi Jacob Emden (Siddur Bet Ya’akov, Warsaw ed. 1910, p. 120) acknowledges that while some versions have the word “Kedushah” vocalized with the shuruk (vowel sound “oo”) treating it as a noun, the preferred version is to read the phrase in question as b’safah berurah u-v’nei’mah k’doshah with a pause after “berurah,” and a holom after the letter “daled,” because the word “k’doshah” is an adjective modifying “ne’imah.” And Siddur Ha–Ya’avetz, Amudei Shamayim (ed. Deutsch [2016] p. 86) has Emden punctuating the phrase in question with a comma after the word “berurah”(indicating in his notes a need for a pause) and vocalizing the noun in the ensuing phrase as “k’doshah.” Tellingly, the standard reference work for the Ashkenazi nusah, Seder Avodat Yisrael, arranged and annotated by Isaac Seligman Baer (see Robert Scheinberg, “Seligmann Baer’s Seder Avodat Yisrael (1868): Liturgy, Ideology, and the Standardization of Nusah Ashkenaz”), adopts the first view. Moreover, in his notes (ed. Rödelheim [1868], p. 78), Baer relies on Abudraham as authoritative and claims that ne’imah k’doshah was Abarbanel’s version as well. He also claims that he had a manuscript reading of RaShI on Isaiah 6:3 which does not include “Kedushah.” The Siddur Rav Shabbetai Sofer of Przemysl (or Premslow), an authoritative compendium of prayers for Polish Jewry, includes both views, with ne’imah kedushah followed by ne’imah k‘doshah in parentheses, identified as “another version.” In his notes, Sofer indicates that the parenthesized version is that of Abudraham. And, like nineteenth century Rabbi Yehiel Mikhel Epstein (Arukh HaShulhan, Orah Hayyim 59:10), former Chief Rabbi of Israel Ovadiah Yosef (Resp. Yabi’a Omer, Pt. 8, Orah Hayyim, No. 11, Sec. 15) acknowledges that there is support for both the first and second view, it seems that the latter gives greater credence to the first view.

Second, the Babylonian Talmud refers to the angelic proclamation as a “shirah” (song) and not Kedushah, as assumed by the second view. Rav Hananel cites the opinion of third century Rav (Hullin 91b) who said:

Three groups of ministering angels recite a song (shirah) every day from the verse “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord”; one says: “Holy,” and another one says: “Holy,” and another one says: “Holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory.”

There is no mention of this “song” as the Kedushah prayer. Avot D’Rabbi Natan (Version A, Chapter 12) explicitly refers to this proclamation as “shirah” as well.

Third, Hebrew grammar makes the second view problematic. If the phrase in question was intended to convey the idea that the angels above recite Kedushah clearly and melodiously, then the grammatically correct way to express that idea would be: b’safah berurah u-v’ne’imah, kulam k’ehad, onim v’omrim Kedushah b’yir’ah. Thus, the translation would be: “with clear speech and melodiously, all the angels together would respond and say the Kedushah in trepidation.” The extant word order does not support this reading. In simpler terms, Kedushah is the object of the sentence and must follow after subject and verb. Saying “Kedushah: all together they respond and say,” as the proponents of the second view would have readers do, is both awkward and ungrammatical. Indeed, this is precisely what Baer (op. cit.) states, describing it as “dohak ha-lashon,” difficult language.

Solomonically, Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef (op. cit.) concludes that either way, the first view or the second view, is acceptable. But which is “correct?” Ideally, worshippers should adopt the first view and follow the text as was printed in the Birnbaum and De Sola Pool prayerbooks as well as those published by or for the Conservative movement. (Why the Rabbinical Council of America pivoted away from the original De Sola Pool prayerbook is a mystery.) However, it is entirely proper to follow the text of the synagogue where one is worshipping. Maimonides (Resp. RaMBaM, No. 181) rules that congregational unity is more important than loyalty to the established text. The view of Rabbi Moses Schreiber is also apropos. Asked which mode of prayer is preferred, Ashkenazic or Sephardic, he answers that the Sephardic is preferred but “what we pray according to the formulations of Ashkenazi prayer is heard [by God] as well” (Resp. Hatam Sofer, Orah Hayyim, No. 15). Here, too, we may have the assurance that whichever way the disputed phrase is articulated, God will accept it in the spirit it is offered.