Crafting the Commandments

Albert D. Friedberg’s Crafting the Commandments has just appeared. The Seforim Blog is happy to present the following excerpt from the book’s conclusion.
Scholars have ascribed far too much importance to Maimonides’ enumeration of the commandments and far too little to the motivations that lay behind his appropriation of R. Simlai’s aggadah as the basis for the enumeration and to the significance that Maimonides attached to this aggadah. The proximate reason for creating an enumeration was his need to have a reasoned and methodical outline of all Torah legislation in front of him, a reminder of topics to guide his preparation of the upcoming code of law, a massive and unique undertaking. Thus we find him saying in the introduction to the ShM [Sefer ha-Mitzvot]:
All this [I would do] in order to guard against omitting any topic [emphasis added] from discussion, for only by including them in the enumeration of the commandments [heading the various treatises] would I insure against such omission.
This sense is reinforced by some of the Rules, especially Rules 7 and 10-14, which are essentially taxonomic rules rather than definitions of what constitutes a mitsvah. I posited that the logically unnecessary identification of this outline with R. Simlai’s count of 613 commandments owed its existence to Maimonides’ desire to incorporate the two fundamental beliefs of the Jewish faith, God’s existence and His oneness, into the legal realm, and thus transform their intellection into obligations, a dramatic departure from the preceding geonic paradigm. I inferred this conclusion from a dispassionate and unapologetic assessment of the mitsvah count. Maimonides stretched the meaning of mitsvat ‘aseh well beyond its common rabbinic usage, relying uncharacteristically on an aggadah of questionable legal worth, a homiletic creation with didactic aims and no pretensions of being precise, and resorted to a contrived and hardly compelling logic to arrive at the numerical target, likely fully aware of the variant results that could be legitimately obtained.
The enumeration, qua a reasoned list of commandments, has diverted the attention of the countless students of his works ever since the ShM left his hands. But I posit that it was not R. Simlai’s dictum that 613 commandments were given to Moses at Sinai that was significant, but rather R. Hamnuna’s accompanying exegesis. Maimonides used R. Hamnuna’s midrashic exegesis that the verses I am the Lord thy God and Thou shalt have no other God before Me specifically formed part of the count of 613 commandments to prove that to intellect the existence of God and His oneness constituted a positive, performative obligation. The credibility of R. Hamnuna’s exegesis was even more firmly established when Maimonides inferred from its language what he believed was a theological truth: the nature of the commandments to believe in the existence of God and to believe in His oneness was categorically distinct from the nature and motivation underlying the rest of the commandments. He explained this distinction by averring that the former were philosophically demonstrable truths, capable of being apprehended without the medium of revelation, while the latter were only conventions, necessitating the mediation of a lawgiver and prophet.
The two articles of faith occupy the most prominent position in the MT, appearing in the opening lines of the Sefer ha-Madda’. In a letter to his disciple, Joseph b. Judah, Maimonides wrote that he undertook to compile a code of law in his zeal for the glory of God, “in seeing a nation bereft of a truly comprehensive book (diwan) of law, and bereft of clear and correct [theological] notions.”  Only the inclusion of these two beliefs in the canon of law could have satisfied the requirements of “a truly comprehensive book (diwan)” containing “correct theological notions.”  In sum, the unequivocal and unique statement found in R. Simlai’s aggadah, that the beliefs in God’s existence and His oneness constituted positive obligations, led Maimonides to appropriate the aggadah, adopt its numerical value of 613, and conflate it with the outline that he was preparing—all despite the constraints that it imposed.
In the second half of the book, I turned my attention to the sub-section of positive commandments and drew some conclusions from the way they are described and defined in the Halakhot. While my readings hinged on what Maimonides actually wrote, I recognized that, being human, Maimonides was bound to make the occasional mistake. That said, the exceptional (but more than occasional) omission of the formulaic phrase “X is a mitsvat ‘aseh” at the start of a topical discussion held my special attention because of the implausibility of it being forgotten: the phrase is rich, bold, highly informative, and consistent with Maimonides’ sustained interest for making categorical distinctions. Additionally, and just as importantly, my readings focused on how Maimonides expressed himself. The rhetoric, the literary presentation of his ideas, and the logic of composition mattered as much to me as the slight inferences one could arrive at by noting the absence or presence of a particular term, elements which have constituted the more traditional way of studying his works.
I began the book’s second section by noting that in the Halakhot, Maimonides moves away from the contrived artificiality adopted in the ShM of using the term mitsvat ‘aseh to designate all types of legal themes: here he applies the term to a very specific case, that of an absolute and unconditional obligation. Combing scriptural and rabbinic sources, Maimonides searches for clear indications of unconditional commands and imperatives to perform well-defined acts. These he designates boldly and prominently at the commencement of each topical
discussion, with a formulaic phrase that states that the directive at hand is a mitsvat ‘aseh. Where Maimonides withholds the mitsvat ‘aseh designation, I theorized that he must have done so because the scriptural and/or rabbinic evidence was insufficient to make such a determination. I tested for this evidentiary insufficiency, and when confirmed, I theorized further that under the influence of reigning Islamic legal theory (which was also heavily if not wholly influenced by rabbinic thinking), Maimonides opts for a softer definition. As a result, certain scriptural directives are categorized as recommendations rather than orders, wise pieces of advice rather than commands. Supporting these with scriptural proof texts, he labels them with the solo term mitsvah, a label that he also uses to designate rabbinical directives. The scriptural mitsvot include such prominent directives as to love and fear God, to imitate Him, to appoint a king, to heed the call of a prophet, to rebuke the sinner, to honor the wise, to testify in court, and a few others.
I conjectured further that Maimonides deliberately withheld the scriptural designation from certain commandments that had been labeled as scriptural in the ShM when the plain reading of the scriptural text did not appear to provide sufficient evidence for them, even when rabbinic interpretation suggested otherwise. To this end, he chose an artful but somewhat concealed literary device to designate them as such, the participle of correct practice. This is the case with such prominent practices as the recitation of the Shema, the binding of the tefillin, the writing and placing of the mezuzah and the study of Torah.
In the heavily politicized atmosphere of Cairo, where Rabbanites were both assiduously courted and continuously attacked by sectarian groups (largely Karaites) over the role of the oral law in interpreting Scripture, Maimonides chose to keep his radical opinions hidden yet recoverable. When applied to the legal sections of the Torah, Maimonides’ peshateh di-qera hermeneutics would likely raise hackles among his own co-religionists and, worse yet, give comfort to the deniers of the oral law. His carefully planted literary cues could lead the reader who is familiar with rabbinic terminology and unburdened by popular and superficial conclusions to discover the Master’s true opinion or at the very least sense his ambivalence.
Maimonides was informed by a hermeneutics of peshateh di-qera that was firmly and demonstrably anchored in the Andalusian tradition. His insistence on presumed philological validity, however, left him uneasily placed, uncomfortably close to sectarian investigation and interpretation. Ironically, this led him at times to mount a struggling defense of his own traditional Rabbanite views, well aware that the plain sense of Scripture did not lend convincing support for such a stance.
Consciously or unconsciously, Maimonides navigated his legal system between the Rabbanites and the Karaites, upholding the former’s respect for authoritative tradition and the latter’s insistence on relying only on philologically informed readings. Maimonides’ extraordinarily novel application of peshateh di-qera to the halakhic corpus threatened the very foundations of a Rabbanism, one that was intimately intertwined with the Talmud and its authority. Nahmanides understood this too well when he criticized Rule 2:
[F]or this book of the master, its content is delightful, full of love [based on Song of Songs 5:16] except for this principle, which uproots great mountains of the Talmud and throws down fortified walls of the Gemara. For the students of the Gemara, this notion is evil and bitter. Let it be forgotten and not said.
Of course, Maimonides would not have conceded this point: he would have maintained that his paradigm flowed quite naturally from the pages of the Talmud. Did not the Talmud’s quest for peshateh di-qera support the distinction between divine and man-made law? Did not the rabbis of the Talmud acknowledge that explicitly stipulated scriptural laws enjoyed an epistemic advantage over and a distinction from man-made laws? To Maimonides the answer to these two questions was a resounding yes.

 

Thanks to his remarkable codification, Maimonides left an indelible mark on Jewish law. Unfortunately, an important part of his jurisprudence, the exquisitely fine distinctions he made between divine and human law and between command and advice, was never fully appreciated, perhaps because of its radical import—or perhaps because Maimonides, for his own good reasons, hid many of these contributions behind formulaic omissions, terminological nuances, and subtle literary devices. It is this rich and layered nuancing that in some modest way I have tried to recover.



Jews, Medicine and the University of Padua A Behind the Scenes Tour of a New Exhibit at the Jewish Museum of Padua November 2, 2022- December 31, 2022

Jews, Medicine and the University of Padua: A Behind the Scenes Tour of a New Exhibit at the Jewish Museum of Padua
November 2, 2022- December 31, 2022
By Rabbi Edward Reichman, MD

The city of Padua (or Padova), just twenty-five miles southwest of Venice, has a rich and expansive Jewish history, though it is not typically on the itinerary of the Jewish traveler to Italy. One might perhaps recognize the city name as the penultimate stop on the train from Florence to Venice. The likes of Rabbi Yehuda Minz (Mahari Minz- 15th century), Rabbi Meir Katzenellenbogen (Maharam Padua- 16th century), and Rabbi Moshe ayyim Luzzatto (Ramḥal- 18th century) all lived and taught there, as did many other great personalities in Jewish history.

One of the centerpieces of the city is the University of Padua, one of the oldest universities in the world, which is celebrating its 800th anniversary this year. To this day, it remains one of the premier universities in Europe. The Jewish history of this city is very much intertwined with the university. One remarkable connection between the two is geographical. As divine providence would have it, the Ghetto of Padua was established literally meters away from the university campus. A casual stroll from Palazza Bo, the iconic architectural center of the University of Padua, to the Ashkenazi Synagogue in the Ghetto, now home to the Jewish Museum in Padua, takes less than five minutes.

A new exhibit at the Jewish Museum of Padua, in collaboration with the University of Padua, explores the unique relationship between the university and the Jewish community in the pre-modern era, with particular focus on the medical training of Jewish students. The exhibit commemorates a key role the university played in Jewish medical history, beginning in the fifteenth century, as the first university to officially allow Jews to gain formal training in the field of medicine. Since the formation of the earliest universities,[1] Jews were officially barred by papal decree from attending, as the universities were by and large under the auspices of the Catholic Church. In the pages of this blog, we have drawn attention to the role the University of Padua played in Jewish medical education.[2] Most recently we focused on a rare genre of poems written in honor of Jewish medical graduates of this institution from the 16th-18th centuries.[3]

I am now delighted to inform you of a new exhibit at the Jewish Museum of Padua- Jews, Medicine and the University of Padua– which will run through December 31, 2022. The exhibit was inaugurated with an event on November 2, 2022. Introductions by representatives of the museum, the Jewish community of Padua and the University of Padua were followed by a recorded video address by Chief Rabbi Dr. Riccardo Di Segni of Rome, himself a prominent physician, on Judaism and medicine. The program concluded with my presentation about the training of Jewish medical students in Padua.[4]

The archival material occupies a large display case[5] and reflects three centuries of history through rare documents, including community and city archives, which have never been on public display. With the exception of the work of Vesalius, all the items are unica.

In addition, displayed throughout the exhibit hall are portraits of Jewish physicians from Padua from the Benvenesti Collection of the Museo d’Arte of Padua, and a slideshow of diplomas and congratulatory poems appears on the big screen.

Please join me for a behind the scenes virtual tour of some of the highlights of the exhibit.

I. Anatomy, Vesalius, and the Jewish Medical Students of Padua

Andreas Vesalius
De Humani Corporis Fabrica (1543)

Library of the University of Padua

On the lower left shelf of the case, we find an early edition of Andreas Vesalius’ De Humani Corporis Fabrica, open to the frontispiece. It is no exaggeration that the field of modern anatomy was born at the University of Padua under the vision of the famed professor of anatomy, Andreas Vesalius (1514–1564).[6] You may wonder why a copy of this volume, one of the most famous works in the history of medicine and anatomy, is part of an exhibit on Jewish medical history.

This monumental development in the history of medicine interfaced with the Jewish community of Padua in a number of ways. Much like this one anatomy book reveals the structures of the entire body, so too, this one book provides a window into a complex chapter of the experience of the Jewish medical student in Padua with respect to anatomy.

Hebrew Anatomical Terms

The anatomical terms detailed in the works of Vesalius – the Tabulae Anatomicae and De Humani Corporis Fabrica – are presented in multiple languages. One of those languages is Hebrew.[7] The reason for this is not specifically related to the Jewish medical students of Padua per se, but rather to the role the Jews played in the translation of medical works and the transmission of classical medical teaching from antiquity to the Middle Ages and Renaissance.[8]

Exactly who is responsible for the Hebrew translations in the Tabulae Anatomicae is unknown. Vesalius may have attended lectures on the Hebrew language by Joannes van Campen at the Pedagogium Trilingue in Louvain.[9] With the Hebrew terminology for the Fabrica, however, Vesalius duly acknowledges some assistance:

I have decided to give in the index principally a simple list of the names of the bones, first presenting those I use in the text; then the Greek; then, any others in Latin taken from authoritative writers, and all that in such way that it may have value. After these will follow the Hebrew, but also some Arabic, almost all taken from the Hebrew translation of Avicenna[10] through the efforts of Lazarus de Frigeis, a distinguished Jewish physician and close friend with whom I have been accustomed to translate Avicenna.[11]

The reference to Avicenna, the eleventh century Persian physician and polymath, refers to the Canon of Avicenna, one of the more influential medical works of that time. A magnificent, illustrated Hebrew manuscript translation of the Canon, which dates from the mid fifteenth century, is found in the University of Bologna,12] and the work was printed later in the fifteenth century. The Hebrew terminology in Vesalius, and its relationship to the Hebrew medical terminology of the Canon, has been studied by both historian and linguist alike.[13] Some have been less than complimentary.[14]

Vesalius credits Lazarus de Frigeis, “a distinguished Jewish physician and close friend,” with assisting him with the Hebrew translation in the Fabrica.[15] While some evidence has come to light about this friend, his exact identity still eludes scholars.[16] De Frigeis is believed to be depicted in the classic illustration on the frontispiece of the Fabrica, visible in the exhibit showcase, wearing characteristically Jewish garb.[17]

Vesalius and the Jewish Medical Students of Padua

Another relationship between Vesalius and the Jews[18] is inferred from his tenure as a lecturer at the University of Padua.[19] As Padua[20] was one of the only institutions of higher learning in the medieval and Renaissance periods to admit Jews,[21] Jews from across Europe flocked to attend.[22] These students however were not versed in either Italian or Latin, the academic language of discourse. They sometimes required translation for their studies. This is evidenced by the existence of a rare manuscript of the Fabrica in Yiddish dating from the late 1500s.[23]

One could imagine a group of German Jewish medical students sitting in the back of Vesalius’s lecture hall hunched over this very manuscript trying to keep pace with the day’s lesson.

Vesalius’s work also formalized and expanded the teaching of human anatomy at the University of Padua, as well as at medical schools throughout the world. The supply of cadavers was a perennial challenge for the medical school and each community which sent medical students for training at the university was required to provide bodies for the dissection table. This presented a unique problem for the Jewish students, as Jewish law forbids the dissection of the body after death. The Jewish medical students and Jewish community went to great lengths to gain exemption from this requirement. This is reflected in the Jewish community archives of this period.[24] There was also fear of grave robbing from the Jewish cemeteries.[25] Indeed, one scholar has suggested that one of the illustrated letters in the Fabrica depicts a scene of the grave robbing of a body from a Jewish cemetery.[26]

The “o” on the flag held by the putti was the symbol Jews were required to wear on their clothing.

In one case in 1676, a Jewish body was stolen before burial by medical students and brought to the anatomy table for dissection. Riots ensued and a compromise was ultimately reached. Isaac Cantarini wrote about this in his Paad Yitzak (1684). Roth recounts a case where disgruntled students kidnapped an etrog that was being transferred between communities on Sukkot and held it ransom in exchange for providing Jewish bodies for dissection.[27]

II. History of Degree Granting for Jewish Medical Students before 1615- Counts Palatine

Padua City Archives (1469-1470)
ASPd, Notarile, vol. 1946
Archivio di Stato di Padova

The oldest and rarest item of the exhibit (bottom left section- front) is a volume of the Padua city archives from the late 15th century. The pages on display document the medical degree-granting process for Jewish students during this period.

In the early centuries of the University of Padua Medical School, doctoral degrees were granted by the Sacred College of Philosophers and Physicians in a Catholic religious ceremony. As such, this pathway to a medical degree was not a viable option for a religious Jew. However, non-Catholics, including Jews, could obtain medical degrees through a different pathway outside of the university walls, granted by specific individuals known as Counts Palatine, who received their authority from the Holy Roman Emperor. These ceremonies were held privately before a notary and witnesses.[28]

On display is a remarkable archival record from February 21, 1469, reflecting this degree-granting process. The passage recounts that the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick III, while visiting Italy, bestowed upon Judah Messer Leon[29] a double doctorate in medicine and liberal arts, in addition to the title of Counts Palatine, granting him the right to confer doctorates upon other Jews of proven worthiness.

Judah Messer Leon was an accomplished physician, professor, and Torah scholar who later taught at the University of Padua Medical School. His work Nofet Tzufim (Abraham Conat: Mantua, 1475), known to this blog audience as the first Hebrew book to be printed in the lifetime of its author,[31]is a treatise on rhetoric, utilizing the classical literary devices of the ancient discipline of rhetoric applied to the Torah. One of the uses for this work was to prepare the Jewish students who matriculated from foreign countries to the medical schools in Italy. Indeed, Messer Leon is purported to have organized a yeshiva where students could receive a comprehensive Jewish education while training in the secular disciplines necessary for higher studies in the humanities, philosophy, and medicine.[31]

In the same archival record, we learn that it would be just one year later that Messer Leon would exercise his privilege as a Counts Palatine. In Padua, on 27 February 1470, Rabbi Dr. Judah Messer Leon bestowed a medical degree upon the Jew Yoanan Alemanno in a private ceremony at his home. Alemanno was a prominent Italian rabbi, philosopher and Kabbalist who also apparently taught Hebrew to the likes of Pico Mirandola. The nature of the ceremony was similar to the conventional Padua University procedure and included presenting the new doctor with a signed book, placing a gold ring on his finger, a wreath on his head, tying a red silk thread around his waist, and kissing him on the cheek.[32] However, while the invocation to the ceremony for the typical Christian student was “In Christi Nomini,” Messer Leon’s invocation for Alemanno was In Dei omnipotentis nomine amen” (in the name of the Omnipotent God, Amen).[33]

This was the precursor to the invocation which would be used for the formal diplomas of Jewish students in the following centuries, “In Dei Aeterni Nomine Amen.” Messer Leon exercised this extraordinary privilege a number of times during his lifetime.

Messer Leon was involved in a Jewish legal dispute regarding the permissibility of wearing academic robes. Issues relating to these robes included the obligation to wear tzitzit, as well as the concern that they might contain sha’atnez.[34]

In 1615, the Collegio Veneto was established to serve the purpose of granting degrees to non-Catholic students and essentially replaced the Counts Palatine. The diplomas on display in this exhibit are from the period of the Collegio Veneto.

III. Diplomas of Jewish Medical Graduates of the University of Padua

Diplomas of Padua Jewish medical graduates are exceedingly scarce. While there have been a few sold at auction over the last few decades,[35] such diplomas are rarely displayed in public. I have thus far identified a total of nineteen extant diplomas of Jewish Padua medical graduates. Only three examples are found in Italy, and all of them are on display at this exhibit. An additional diploma was reproduced for display,[36] and images of others appear on the screen in the exhibit hall. Below I describe the diplomas on display, accompanied by a brief bio of their (original) bearers.

1) Medical Diploma of Moise di Pellegrino (Moshe ben Gershon) Tilche[37]
University of Padua- 1687
Gross Family Collection (Tel Aviv, Israel)

The invocation for the diploma for the typical Padua graduate was “In Christi Nomini.” For Jewish students, such as Tilche, the invocation was typically amended to “In Dei Aeterni Nomini.” Tilche is identified as “Hebreus” in the diploma, which was common for most Jewish students.

This is one of only a few Jewish medical diplomas from Padua that bear the graduate’s portrait, and the only such example displayed in this exhibit. Below the portrait are putti holding a laurel wreath, a book, a ring, and a hat.

This is a remarkable and unique depiction of the features of the Padua graduation ceremony. In addition to placing the wreath and hat on the graduate, a ring was placed on his finger, and books were symbolically opened and closed to represent the transmission of knowledge. This is similar to the ceremony described above performed by Messer Leon. This is the only known such illustration found on any Padua diploma.

The year is listed as “currente anno” instead of the typical term with Christian reference, such as Anno Domini, Anno a Christi Nativitate, or Anno Christiano.

Witnesses: The two witnesses for Tilche’s diploma were the Jewish physician, and graduate of Padua, Isaac Vita Cantarini (AKA Yitsḥak Ḥayyim Cantarini) and the Jew Samuele Pace. A branch of the Pace family was established in Padua by the 17th century. A member of the family, Solomon, received his medical degree from Padua in 1647.[38] Cantarini was a rabbi as well as a physician and was a prominent figure in the Padua Jewish community.[39] Cantarini was both the author and recipient of poems dedicated in honor of Padua medical graduates.

Moshe ben Gershon Tilche signed a letter published in the Jewish legal responsa of Sanson Morpurgo, another medical Padua graduate (1700),[41] about the custom of donning tefillin on ḥol ha-mo‘ed (intermediate days of the holiday).[41]

2) Medical Diploma of Samuele Coen[42]
University of Padua- 1702
University of Padua Archives Raccolta Diplomi, 33 (n. 3841)

There were sixteen medical graduates from the University of Padua from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries with the last name of Coen, though they were not all related. Samuele was part of the sphere of Rabbi Moshe ayyim Luzzatto (Ramal). It was a common custom for students’ mentors, fellow Padua students or alumni, or family members to compose congratulatory poems, mostly in Hebrew, to celebrate the student’s graduation. There are three students I have identified for whom we possess an extant copy of both a diploma and a congratulatory poem. Coen is one. Coen’s brother Moise, also a Padua medical alumnus (1675), composed a broadside poem in honor of Samuele’s graduation.[43]

Moise served as a witness for the graduation diploma of another Jewish student, Emanuel Colli, whose diploma is housed in the Magnes Collection in California.

In 1741, Coen’s daughter married another graduate of Padua’s medical school, Jacob ben Moses Alpron.[44] Rabbi Moshe ayyim Luzzatto (Ramal) wrote a poem in honor of Alpron’s graduation.

It was not uncommon for the typical Padua medical diploma to include an illustration of the family coat of arms for the graduate. Coen’s diploma is one of a few examples of coats of arms found in diplomas of Jewish students, and the only example in our exhibit. The coat of arms includes the symbol of the Kohen tribe, two hands in the formation used for the priestly blessing. Above the hands appears a crown, and below it appears a raven.

Samuel Coen was clearly a member of the kohen tribe, as were a number of Padua medical graduates including Tuviyah haKohen Rofeh and Isaac Cantarini, for example. Given the introduction of systematic anatomical dissection into the medical school curriculum in the 16th century, I have long wondered why there is no reference in the halakhic literature of this time to the issue of dissection for a Kohen, let alone for a Yisrael. The first references to dissection are in the late 1700s with the famous responsa of the Nodah biYehuda and Rav Yaakov Emden, though they contain no discussion about Kohanim. This is perhaps because the format of anatomy teaching involved the professor alone performing the dissection and teaching over the body. This is reflected in the design of anatomical theater of Padua. Students did not perform hands-on dissection; thus, the only potential issue would be tumat ohel, which at least according to some authorities is not generated by a non-Jewish corpse. However, as the original theater had a retractable roof to eliminate the foul odors during dissection, perhaps even tumat ohel may have been a non-issue.

Returning to the diploma, there are two sets of books on a table under the medallion, all of them labeled with the names of secular authors who were part of the standard curriculum at that time, including Plato, Aristotle, Hippocrates, Galen, and Avicenna.

I had hoped the name Maimonides might have appeared on the spine of one of the books.

Coen is identified as “Hebreus” in the diploma, which was the norm for Jewish students.

The year is listed as “currente anno” instead of the typical term with Christian reference, such as Anno Domini, Anno a Christi Nativitate, or Anno Christiano.

3) Medical Diploma of Moise Valle[45]
University of Padua – 1713
Biblioteca Statale del Monumento Nazionale di Praglia, Fondo Ebraico, 156

Moshe David Valle (1697-1777), one of the more well-known graduates of Padua, was an Italian Rabbi, physician, and kabbalist. He lectured for the Padua confraternity Mevakshei HaShem (seekers of God). He was a prolific author and teacher, as well as student, of Rabbi Moshe Ḥayyim Luzzatto (known as Ramḥal). He authored commentaries on the Torah and Prophets as well as works on Kabbalah.[46]  He is responsible for disseminating the teachings of Ramḥal. Ephraim Luzzatto, physician, poet and fellow graduate of the University of Padua, authored a poem praising Valle’s lectures.[47]

Ramḥal and the University of Padua

As we are discussing Valle, we would be remiss if we did not at least briefly mention the relationship of Ramḥal to the university and its students. Though not part of this exhibit, the relationship of Ramḥal with the students of the university has been explored.[48] It had long been debated as to whether Ramḥal actually attended the university, as evidence was elusive. Debra Glassberg Gail has recently discovered records of his matriculation,[49] though not graduation. I obtained copies of these records confirming the matriculation of Moise Vita Luzzatto at the universitas artistarum,[50] amongst the students of philosophy and medicine.

Matriculation Records of 1723

Moise Vita Luzzato di Giacob ebreo

Matriculation Records of 1725

Moise Vita Luzato di Giacob ebreo

Matriculation Records of 1726

Moise Vita Luzato di Giac ebreo

The Luzzatto family had a long and productive relationship with the university as described below regarding the diploma of Raffaele, which is on display. Some of Ramḥal’s most cherished students, including Yekutiel Gordon and Moshe David Valle, studied medicine in Padua, and I have identified at least eight medical students for whom Ramḥal wrote congratulatory poems upon their graduation.[51]

Returning to the diploma, Valle, as well as the other students represented in this exhibit, had the invocation amended to “In Dei Aeterni Nomini.” Valle is identified as “Hebreus” as well. The year is listed as “currente anno,” devoid of any Christian reference.

Valle was promoted by Bernardino Ramazzini, who was in contact with some of the Christian Hebraists of that time.[52]Ramazzini is also considered the founder of occupational medicine, and in his classic work on diseases of the tradesman he discusses the increased prevalence of scabies among the Jewish population.[53]

Valle is buried in the Jewish cemetery of Padua.

The Diploma Medallion

The Padua diploma typically contains a medallion on the front page, which was designed and intended for the inclusion of a portrait. However, as this option required an additional fee, it was not exercised by all students. As the basic structure of the diploma was templated, for those who refused the portrait option, the medallion nonetheless remained. In these cases, one thus finds the medallion left bare, or filled with text. The three aforementioned diplomas in our exhibit reflect the three possible options. While Tilche chose the premium package, his fellow graduates did not.

4) Medical Diploma of Raffaele Luzzatto[54]
University of Padua 1797
Centro per la Storia dell’Università di Padova

The latest diploma in our exhibit is likewise noteworthy, though not because of its artistic value. Raffaele was a member of the famous Luzzatto family, many of whom graduated the University of Padua Medical School.[55]Raffaele was from the town of San Daniele in the northeastern region of Italy, Friuli.[56] From the end of the 17th to the early 19th century, numerous members of the San Daniele Luzzatto family graduated from the Padua medical school.[57]In fact, Raffaele was in a direct, unbroken line of what would ultimately be six generations of Luzzatto physicians, many of them named Raffaele.[58]

Samuel David Luzzatto (1800–1865), the great scholar and bibliophile, known as Shadal, reports that on a visit to his uncle Isaac in San Daniele, he was shown the medical diploma of Isaac’s father, Raphael.[59] Shadal then commented, “We learn that the poet Isaac was preceded by a Raphael and an Isaac, and was followed by a Raphael and an Isaac, all of them doctors.” This diploma on display may be the very diploma Shadal saw on his visit.

This is a simple unilluminated diploma comprised solely of calligraphic text. The invocation reads “In Dei Nomine,” similar but not identical to the invocations of the other diplomas in this exhibit.

Close inspection reveals that the word “Dei” is written over erased text of a longer word. There are a few additional erasures, including the words under the granting authority of the degree, which reflect the possibility that this diploma was templated for a Christian student, and originally read, “In Christi Nomine.”

Further proof for this theory is that the invocation for the Jewish student usually read, “In Dei Aeterni Nomine,” with the word “Aeterni” added. This is not the case here, as given the limited space of the templated invocation, it would not have been possible to add the additional word. Of note, Luzzatto’s graduation record in the Padua University Archives actually bears the invocation, “in Christi Nomine.”

There are a number of cases where the archival record for Jewish students bears the standard Christian invocation, while the student diploma does not. The archival scribe may have simply followed the usual formula without much thought, and the student would likely never have known otherwise. The diploma, however, was given to the student to possess in perpetuity and therefore the emendation to “in Dei Aeterni Nomine” would have been preferred for a Jewish student.

Luzzatto is also not identified as a hebreus in either the archives or in the diploma. Furthermore, while the diplomas of Tilche, Coen and Valle amended the format for the date to remove any Christian reference, this diploma retains the conventional Christian dating, “Anno a xti Nativ” (shorthand for Anno a Christi Nativitate).” All the aforementioned observations support the suggestion that this diploma was originally templated for a Christian student.

IV. Benvenisti Collection of Portraits of Physicians

Padua’s Museo d’Arte contains the Benvenisti collection of portraits of physicians. Displayed are reproductions of portraits of some Jewish physicians,[60] some of whom graduated from the University of Padua. I highlight two examples below.

1) Sabbato Vita Marini (1662-1748)

Marini’s famous portrait is used for the museum exhibit advertising.

Shabtai Ḥayyim Marini graduated from Padua in 1685[62] and was a close friend and possible teacher of Rabbi Moshe Ḥayyim Luzzatto (Ramḥal).[62] In addition, he translated into Hebrew the first three books of Ovid’s Metamorphoses from the Italian translation of Giovanni Andrea dell’Anguillara.[63] Joseph Almanzi composed an ode to Marini in his Nezem Zahav:

2) Samuele Medoro (1788-1854)

Samuel Medoro (1788-1854), received his training in the University of Padua, served as surgeon in the La Confraternità Israelitica “Sovvegno” di Padova, which endowed medical assistance to Jews throughout Italy, and published many medical articles. He was an active participant in the debate about the requirement for oral suction as part of the circumcision procedure. His handwritten lectures on cicumcision were sold at auction in 2013 by Kedem Auction House in Jerusalem.[64]

Conclusion

If you happen to be in Italy before the end of the year it may just be worth the detour from Venice to catch a rare glimpse of a little-known chapter at the crossroads of Jewish, Italian, medical and academic history. While there, make sure to book a tour with the museum, which includes the synagogue and cemeteries. In the old cemetery are buried Rabbi Meir Katzenellenbogen, who was a teacher and mentor to the Jewish medical students of Padua;[65] Abraham Catalano, physician and author of the work Olam Hafukh[66] on the 1631 plague (a reproduction of which is on display at the exhibit); and Moshe David Valle, who was a staunch supporter of Ramḥal and whose diploma is on display. If you have even the remotest interest in the history of medicine or anatomy, the University of Padua is home to the first and longest standing permanent anatomical theater in the world, completed in 1595, just steps away from the exhibit. In fact, the theater benches were not only occupied by many Jewish medical students over the centuries, there is also a record of Jews from the community (non-students) attending dissections when the theater was first built.[67] It is thus evident that you do not need to be a doctor (or health care provider) to appreciate this medically related exhibit.

I conclude with the following serious offer (though my wife Sara might describe it otherwise). If you make it to the exhibit in person, feel free to contact me, and I would be delighted to give you a tour while you are there- time and time zone permitting. (I have already done it once.)

Appendix- Jews, Medicine and the University of Padua: The Uncut Version

Below are a number of sections I had hoped to include in the exhibit, but for a variety of reasons did not make the cut.

Seforim/Books related to the Graduates

The original exhibit proposal included a section of first or early edition books/seforim related to or composed by Padua medical graduates. Included in this selective list are:

  • Paad Yitzak by Isaac ayyim Cantarini (Padua- 1664), which includes an account of a Jewish body kidnapped for the purpose of dissection by the non-Jewish medical students of Padua.

  • The ubiquitous Ma’aseh Tuviyah by Tuviyah HaRofeh (Padua-1683), one of the most famous graduates from Padua.[68]

  • Mateh Dan by David Nieto (Padua- 1687), patterned after the Kuzari.

  • Paad Yitzak, the first halakhic encyclopedia, by Isaac Lampronti (Padua- 1696).

  • Shemesh Tzedakah, responsa by Shimshon Morpurgo (Padua- 1700).

I also happened upon an article by Professor Joanna Weinberg about the collection of Hebrew printed works in the Antoniana Library of Padua.[69] A number of the items in this collection, all of which were printed before 1663, would be perfect for an exhibit on Jews and Medicine in Padua:

  • Cannon of Avicenna:[70] One of two Hebrew incunabula in this library, it is the only known Hebrew medical incunabula. Could Lazarus de Frigeis have used this copy when assisting Vesalius with the Hebrew terms of the Fabrica? Speculative to be sure, but certainly not out of the realm of possibility. Perhaps marginalia are present in the copy to shed light.

  • Shiltei ha Gibborim by Abraham Portelone:[71] Though neither medical in content nor written by a Padua graduate, it is nonetheless authored by one of the most famous Jewish medical personilites of that time and would certainly have been known to and possibly owned by the Jewish medical students in Padua. In addition, his son was a medical graduate of Padua and was promoted by none other than Galileo.

  • Pesakim from R. Yehuda Mintz and R. Meir Katzenellenbogen:[72] These two Torah giants were leaders of the Padua Jewish community in their day and certainly interacted and taught the Jewish medical students.[73]

  • Sefer Elim by Yosef Shlomo Delmedigo:[74] Delmedigo is one of the greatest alumni of Padua and amongst other things was known for his relationship with Galileo.[75]

In addition to the content of these books, their provenance was also relevant to our exhibit. Many of the Hebrew books held in the Antoniana Library originally belonged to Paduan Jews, evidenced by the family names inscribed on the title pages. I do not think it unreasonable to imagine that some of these works were actually used by Jewish medical students in Padua. Furthermore, I discovered that Pontificia Biblioteca Antoniana was a mere 750 meters from the Jewish Museum and Ghetto. It seemed too good to be true… and it was. The library requested exorbitant restoration fees for the items prior to transfer and regretfully financial constraints precluded this option. Alas, it was not meant be. I had also hoped to obtain Messer Leon’s Nofet Tzufim from the Vatican Library, but not unsurprisingly, was met with the same response and result.

Congratulatory Poems for the Jewish Medical Graduates of Padua

After having researched and written extensively about the congratulatory poems for the Jewish medical graduates of Padua, you might expect to find at least one hard copy of such a poem as part of the exhibit. However, for financial, legal and insurance reasons, the exhibit was limited to items found in Italy, primarily in the environs of Padua. Remarkably, of the over one hundred Hebrew congratulatory poems I have identified, not one is found in Italy. They are primarily found in Israel, America, England and Hungary. There is one single poem in the university archives written in Italian in honor of Samuele Coen,[76] whose diploma appears in the exhibit. The author is one of the University of Padua staff diploma illustrators, and I have yet to determine the story behind its composition. It does not in any way represent the genre of this poetry. In lieu of the physical poems, a slideshow of examples of congratulatory poems, along with examples of additional diplomas, is projected on the screen of the exhibition hall.

Padua Medical Graduates as Mohelim, Performing Circumcision on the Children of Their Fellow Graduates and Mentors

Identifying physicians of Jewish lineage is of great interest to some historians, but my interest lies at the intersection of medical practice and religious observance. The practice of circumcision by physicians is one such interface, and the physician-Mohel combination is not that common even today (with the exclusion of urologists). While this topic merits its own broader study, I have identified a number of Padua medical graduates who were also mohelim. Remarkably, in two cases, the pinkas mohel, or circumcision registry, is still extant, revealing another “medical” connection.

1) David Loria

Loria graduated Padua in 1623. Upon his graduation, Rabbi Yehuda Aryeh Modena composed a poem in his honor which now resides in the Oxford Bodleian Library.[77]

This poem is unique amongst the medical student poems, as it is one of only two medical student poems written in Aramaic.[78]

Loria and Modena maintained connection long after Loria’s graduation from medical school.[79] Indeed, Modena offered to bestow rabbinic ordination upon David Loria, though the latter declined for unknown reasons.[80] Loria was also a mohel and performed the rite for Modena’s grandson, Avtalion, in March 1636.[81] Though a physician in the Ghetto of Padua, Loria Fled Padua during the plague of 1631. However, he made extensive arrangements to provide for the needy.[82]

2) Salomon Lampronti[83]

Salomon was the son of the famous Isaac Lampronti, physician, rabbi, and author of Paḥad Yitzḥak. Isaac (Padua, 1696) and his son Salomon (Padua, 1734) were alumni of Padua’s medical school. Salomon was a mohel and his pinkas survived the ravages of time. Though I was unable to access the entire work, the passage shown in the Kedem auction catalogue[84] happened to include the record of Lampronti’s circumcision of the son of the physician Solomon Zamorani,[85] a Padua graduate of 1753.[86] Zamorani was also a student of the younger Lampronti. I suspect there are children of other Padua medical graduates included in this ledger.

3) Menahem Navarra[87]

Navarra completed his medical studies in 1740, and the poem below was written in honor of his graduation by Isaiah Romanin.[88]

Navarra was a mohel and, like Lampronti, his pinkas mohel has survived. Among those for whom he performed the rite were the children of Jacob Grassin Basilea and Raffael Ferrarese, both Padua medical graduates.[89] Below are examples of some of the entries:

March 27, 1757, son of Yaakov Gershon Basilea (Padua, 1735)[90] 

On December 2, 1769 Navarra circumcised the second son of Raffael Ferrarese (Padua, 1762), one of twins. The milah was performed one month after birth. Note he is called an “uman” (i.e., rofeh uman), which may possibly refer specifically to a university-trained physician.

There is a pinkas Milah housed in the University of Pennsylvania Library[91] which belonged to a member of the Fermi (or possibly Fermo/Firmo) family,[92] though the specific family member remains unknown. The entries run from 1705 to 1736. Therein are multiple references to Shimshon Morpurgo, a rabbi/physician graduate of Padua (1700).[93]

While the dates of the pinkas would align perfectly with the Padua medical graduate Moshe Yaakov son of David Fermo (Padua, 1701), I have no evidence to support his identification as the work’s author.[94] Furthermore, the spine of the work is stamped in gold with the words, Pinḳas mohel leha-R. Firmo. While the “R” typically refers to Rav, perhaps in this case the “R” stands for rofeh, though I admit this is unlikely.

[1] Bologna, founded in 1088, is considered the oldest university in the world.
[2] E. Reichman, “The ‘Doctored’ Medical Diploma of Samuel, the Son of Menaseh ben Israel: Forgery of ‘For Jewry’,” Seforim Blog (here), March 23, 2021; idem, “The Illustrated Life of an Illustrious Renaissance Jew: Rabbi Dr. Shimshon Morpurgo (1681-1740),” Seforim Blog (here), June 22, 2021.
[3] E. Reichman, “How Jews of Yesteryear Celebrated Graduation from Medical School: Congratulatory Poems for Jewish Medical Graduates in the 17th and 18th Centuries- An Unrecognized Genre,” Seforim Blog (here), May 29, 2022.
[4] Three additional lectures accompany the exhibit. For a list of the lectures, including zoom info and recordings, see here.
[5] The exhibit was limited to items found in Padua and its environs.
[6] On Vesalius, see O’Malley, Andreas Vesalius of Brussels. The classic bibliography of works about Vesalius by Harvey Cushing is continuously updated by Dr. Maurits Biesbrouck, Vesaliana: An Updated Vesalius Bibliography here.
[7] On the use of Hebrew in medical literature throughout history, see the excellent survey of H. Friedenwald, “The Use of the Hebrew Language in Medical Literature,” Bulletin of the History of Medicine 2(1934), pp. 77–111. See also J. J. Barcia Goyanes, “Medieval Hebrew Anatomical Names: A Contribution to Their History,” Koroth 8:11–12 (1985), pp. 192–201; A. Goldstein, “Historical Development of Hebrew Medical Terminology,” Koroth 3:11–12 (May 1966); Goldstein, 4:1–2 (December 1966), p. 122; 4:5–7 (December 1967), p. 452; 4:11–12 (December 1968), p. 773. On the use of Hebrew in universities during this period, see, for example, Z. Y. Flashkas, “The Hebrew Language in the Universities of the Middle Ages,” Koroth 2:910 (May 1961), pp. 494495.
[8] On this topic, see, for example, the works Gerrit Bos, Gad Freudenthal, Resianne Fontaine, Lola Ferre, and Maud Kozody.
[9] O’Malley, Vesalius of Brussels, p. 33. For a list of professors of the Hebrew language at the Collegium Trilingue (University of Leuven) during Vesalius’s stay there, see Valerius Andreas, Fasti Academici Studii Generalis Lovaniensis (List of the Academics of the University of Louvain) (Lovanii, apud Hieronymum Nempaeum, 1650), p. 284. I thank Dr. Maurits Biesbrouck for graciously providing me with a copy of the relevant passage in this reference.
[10] On Avicenna (aka Ibn Sina) in Hebrew, see J. O. Leibowitz, “The Preface of Nathan Ha-Meati to his Hebrew Translation (1279) of Ibn-Sina’s Canon,” Koroth 7:1–2 (April 1976), pp. 1–7; Leibowitz, “Ibn Sina in Hebrew,” Koroth 8:1–2 (June 1981), p. 3; B. Richler, “Manuscripts of Avicenna’s Canon in Hebrew Translation: A Revised and Up-to-Date List,” Koroth 8:3–4 (August 1982), pp. 145–168; S. Kottek, “The Hebrew Manuscript of Avicenna’s Canon” (French), Medicina Nei Secoli 8:1 (1996), pp. 13–29; Gad Freudenthal and Mauro Zonta, “Avicenna Among Medieval Jews: The Reception of Avicenna’s Philosophical, Scientific and Medical Writings in Jewish Cultures, East and West,” Arabic Sciences and Philosophy 22 (2010), 217–287.
[11] De Humani Corporis Fabrica (1543), p. 166, translated in O’Malley, Vesalius of Brussels, p. 120.
[12] Mauro Perani and Giacomo Corazzol, Nuovo Catalogo dei Manoscritti Ebraici della Biblioteca Universitaria di Bologna (Minerva Edizioni, 2013), 35-38.
[13] M. Etziony, “The Hebrew-Aramaic Element in Vesalius’s Tabulae Anatomicae Sex,” Bulletin of the History of Medicine 18(1945), 413–424; Etziony, “The Hebrew-Aramaic Element in Vesalius: A Critical Analysis,” Bulletin of the History of Medicine 20 (1946), pp. 36–57; Jacques Pines, “La nomenclature Hebraique dans le oeuvres anatomiques d’Andre Vesale,” Le Scalpel 118 (1965), 8592; Juan Jose Barcia Goyanes, “Los terminos osteologicos de la ‘Fabrica’ y la evolucion del lenguaje anatomico Hebreo en la Edad Media,” Sefarad 42 (1982), 299–326.
[14] Etziony, “Hebrew-Aramaic Element in Vesalius,” 36.
[15] For unclear reasons, the phrase “distinguished Jewish physician” was omitted from the second edition of the Fabrica. See O’Malley, Vesalius of Brussels, p. 120.
[16] S. Franco, “Ricerche su Lazzaro ebreo de Frigeis, medico insigne ed amico di Andre Vesal,” La Rassegna Mensile di Israel 15 (1949), 495–515; J. Pines, “Lazarus Hebraeus of Frigeis, Collaborator and Close Friend of Andreas Vesalius” (French), Le Scalpel 117(January, 1964), 512; Balazs Bugyi, “Rilievi critici sul medico traduttore di Vesalio, Lazarus de Frigeis,” Acta Medicae Historiae Patavinae 11 (1964–1965), 203–205; B. Bugyi, “Critical Notes about Lazarus de Frigeis: Vesalius’s Advisor in Hebrew Terminology,” Koroth 3:11–12 (May 1966), 613–615; Francesco Piovan, “Nuovo documenti sul medico ebreo Lazzaro ‘De Frigeis’ collaboratore di Andrea Vesalio,” Quaderni per la Storia Dell’Universita di Padova 21 (1988), pp. 67–74; D. Carpi, “Alcune nuove considerazione su Lazzaro di Raphael ‘de Frigiis’,” Quaderni per la Storia Dell’Universita di Padova 30 (1997), pp. 218–226. For more of the identity and history of De Frigies, see M. Nevins, “A Face in the Crowd: Vesalius’ Jewish Friend,” Korot 23(2015-2016), 237-256.
[17] See O’Malley, Vesalius of Brussels, 142.
[18] Vesalius also addresses a midrashic tradition that an indestructible luz bone will be the nidus, or origin, of the resurrection of the body in Messianic times. He attributes this notion to an Arabic or magical tradition. He rejects this belief as neither verifiable nor consistent with anatomical observation. See E. Reichman and F. Rosner, “The Bone Called Luz,” Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences 51:1 (January, 1996), 52–65.
[19] See O’Malley, Vesalius of Brussels, 73–110.
[20] On the University of Padua in general, see, for example, H. Rashdall, The Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages, 3 vols. (Oxford University Press, reissued 1987); L. Rosetti, The University of Padua: An Outline of Its History, trans. Alice W. Maladorno Hargraves (Edizioni Lint, 1987).
[21] On the Jews and the University of Padua, see A. Ciscato, Gli Ebrei in Padova (13001800) (Arnaldo Forni Editore, 1901); Cecil Roth, “The Medieval University and the Jew,” Menora 9:2 (1930), 128–141; S. Dubnov, “Jewish Students at the University of Padua,” Sefer Hashanah: American Hebrew Yearbook (1931), 216219; Jacob Shatzky, “On Jewish Medical Students of Padua,” Journal of the History of Medicine 5 (1950), 444447; Cecil Roth, “The Qualification of Jewish Physicians in the Middle Ages,” Speculum 28 (1953), 834–843; David B. Ruderman, “The Impact of Science on Jewish Culture and Society in Venice (with Special Reference to Jewish Graduates of Padua’s Medical School),” in Gli Ebrei e Venezia, Secoli xivxviii (Atti del Convegno Internationale Organizzato D’all’lnstituto di Storia della Sociata e della Stato Veneziano dell a Fondatione Giorgio Cini, Venezia, 1983), 417–448, reprinted in Ruderman, Jewish Thought and Scientific Discovery in Early Modern Europe (New Haven, 1995); S. Massry et al., “Jewish Medicine and the University of Padua: Contribution of the Padua Graduate Toviah Cohen to Nephrology,” American Journal of Nephrology 19:2 (1999), 213–221; S. M. Shasha and S. G. Massry, “The Medical School of Padua and Its Jewish Graduates” (Hebrew), Harefuah 141:4 (April 2002), 388394; E. Reichman, “The Valmadonna Trust Broadsides: A Virtual Reunion of the Jewish Medical Students of the University of Padua,” Verapo Yerapei: The Journal of Torah and Medicine of the Albert Einstein College of Medicine Synagogue 7 (2017), 55- 76.
[22] For a list of Jewish graduates from the University of Padua medical school in past centuries, see Abdelkader Modena and Edgardo Morpugo, Medici E Chirurghi Ebrei Dottorati E Licenziati Nell’Universita Di Padova dal 1617 al 1816 (Bologna, 1967); E. V. Ceseracciu, “Ebrei laureate a Padova nel cinquecento,” Quaderni per la storia dell’Universita di Padova 13 (1980), 151–168.
[23] This extremely rare manuscript of a unique and unpublished Yiddish translation of Vesalius’s work on anatomy is one of only fifty surviving Yiddish manuscripts predating 1600, of which only five address medical subjects. The manuscript was gifted to the University of Pennsylvania (Rare Book & Manuscript Library LJS 485) in 2015 and is available in digital format online.
[24] See Daniel Carpi, Minutes Book of the Council of the Jewish Community of Padua Volume Two: 1603-1630 (Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1979), parti 545 and parti 616.
[25] Carpi, op. cit., parti 616, discusses a request to delay burial during the season of anatomy at the medical school to preclude grave robbing.
[26] Jeffrey Levine, “Jewish History in Vesalius’s Fabrica,” September 17, 2014 (here).
[27] For more on the history of anatomy and graverobbing in rabbinic literature, see Edward Reichman, The Anatomy of Jewish Law (Maggid/OU/YU Press, 2022).
[28] Benjamin Ravid, “In Defense of the Jewish Doctors of Venice, ca. 1670,” in M. Perani, ed., Una Manna Buona per Mantova: Man Tov le-Man Tovah: Studi in onore Vittodire Colorni per il suo 92 compleanno. (Leo S. Olschki: Florence, 2004), 479-506, esp. 480. On the Counts Palatine, see also, Debra Glasberg Gail, Scientific Authority and Jewish Law in Early Modern Italy, Ph.D Dissertation, Columbia University (2016), Chapter 3; Andreas Rehberg, “Le Lauree Conferite dai ContiP di Nomina Papale: Prime Indagini,” in Anna Esposito and Umberto Longo, eds., Lauree Università e Gradi Accademici in Italia nel Mmedioevo e Nella Prima età Moderna (Cooperativa Libraria Universitaria Editrice: Bologna, 2013), 47-76.
[29] On Messer Leon and his work, see Isaac Rabinowitz, The Book of the Honeycomb’s Flow by Judah Messer Leon: A Critical Edition and Translation (Cornell University Press, 1983); Daniel Carpi, “Rabbi Yehuda Messer Leon and his Work as a Physician” (Hebrew), Michael 1 (1972), 276-301; idem, “Notes on the Life of Rabbi Judah Messer Leon,” in E. Toaff, ed., Studi sull’Ebraismo Italiano: In Memoria di Cecil Roth (Rome: Barulli, 1974), 39-62.
[30] Marc Shapiro, “Talmud Batra, R. Yudel Rosenberg, R. Mordechai Elefant, and Sexual Abuse,” The Seforim Blog (March 24, 2022).
[31] Rabinowitz, op. cit., xxiii. For more on this yeshiva and other programs throughout history that combined the study of Torah and medicine, see E. Reichman, “The Yeshiva Medical School: The Evolution of Educational Programs Combining Jewish Studies and Medical Training,” Tradition 51:3 (Summer 2019), 41-56.
[32] Carpi, op. cit., “Notes,” 51-52. See also, E. Reichman, “The Yeshiva Medical School,” op. cit.
[33] Daniel Carpi, “Notes on the Life of Rabbi Judah Messer Leon,” in E. Toaff, ed., Studi sull’Ebraismo Italiano: In Memoria di Cecil Roth (Rome: Barulli, 1974), 39-62, esp. 51 and 56-58.
[34] Responsa Maharik, n. 88. See J. David Bleich, “Clerical Robes: Distinction of Dishonor,” Tradition 50:1 (2017), 9-34. For another halakhic chapter involving Messer Leon, see Elliott Horowitz, “Don’t Mess with Messer Leon: Halakhah and Humanism in Fifteenth Century Italy,” in Richard Cohen, et. al., eds., Jewish Culture in Early Modern Europe, Essays in honor of David B. Ruderman (Hebrew Union College Press: Cincinnati, 2014).
[35] The diploma of Israel Olmo (Padua, 1755) was sold at Sotheby’s Important Judaica Auction (November 24, 2009), lot n. 160, and is now part of the Braginsky Collection in Zurich. The diploma of Emanuel Delmedigo De Dattolis (Padua, 1686) was sold by Kestenbaum Auction House Fine Judaica (July 21, 2020), and is now in a private collection .
[36] The diploma of Moises Tilche (Padua, 1687) was reproduced for the exhibit.
[37] Tilche is listed in the work of Abdelkader Modena and Edgardo Morpurgo, Medici E Chirurghi Ebrei Dottorati E Licenziati Nell Universita Di Padova dal 1617 al 1816 (Bologna, 1967), n. 25, p. 46.
[38] See M and M, n. 50.
[39] For extensive bibliography on Cantarini, see, Asher Salah, La Republique des Lettres: Rabbins, Ecrivains et Medecins, Juifs en Italie au XVIIIe Siecle (Brill: Leiden, 2007), 120-124. See additional bibliography in the poem section.
[40] This letter is appended in Shemesh Tzedaka (Venice, 1743) to n. 14, 28a. The pagination is confusing as the headings of the lengthy responsum n. 14 are sometimes labeled as n. 4 (omitting the yod) and sometimes mislabeled as n. 15. See also Salah, Le Republique des Lettres, 630.
[41] For further discussion of this particular controversy, which involved a number of prominent rabbinic authorities of the time, as well as for broader treatment of the clash of Ashkenazi and Sephardi customs in history, see B. S. Hamburger, Gedole ha-Dorot ‘al Mishmar Minhag Ashkenaz, 2nd ed. (Bnei Brak: Makhon Moreshet Ashkenaz, 5754), esp. 4344.
[42] Coen is listed in the work of Abdelkader Modena and Edgardo Morpurgo, Medici E Chirurghi Ebrei Dottorati E Licenziati Nell Universita Di Padova dal 1617 al 1816 (Bologna, 1967). This diploma is also included in a spectacular volume of reproductions of Padua diplomas from 1504 to 1806 issued by the University of Padua in 1998. See G. Baldissin Molli, L. Sitran Rea, and E. Veronese Ceseracciu, Diplomi di Laurea all’Università di Padova (15041806) (Padova: Università degli studi di Padova, 1998).
[43] Jewish Theological Seminary Library Ms. 9027 V5:7. JTS lists the year as 1700, though Modena and Morpurgo, list his graduation year as 1702. The original diploma confirms the date of 1702.
[44] See Modena and Morpurgo, n. 154, p. 65 and n. 211, p. 81.
[45] Valle is listed in Modena and Morpurgo, n. 184, p. 73.
[46] For a list of his works, see here.
[47] Meir Letteris, ed., Ephraim Luzzatto, Eleh Bene ha-Ne’urim (Druck und Verlag des Franz Edlen von Schmid: Wien, 1839), 69-70, n. 50.
[48] On the relationship between Luzzatto and the medical students of Padua, see, for example, Morris Hoffman, trans., Isaiah Tishby, Messianic Mysticism: Moses Hayim Luzzatto and the Padua School (Oxford: The Littman Library, 2008).
[49] Debra Glasberg Gail, Scientific Authority and Jewish Law in Early Modern Italy, Ph.D Dissertation, Columbia University (2016), 127, n. 56.
[50] ASUPd, ms. 233, f. 168; ASUPd, ms. 233, f. 180; ASUPd, ms. 233, f. 187.
[51] Elia Consigli (1723), Emanuele Calvo (1724), Elia Cesana (1727), Jacob Alpron (1727), Marco Coen (1728), Yekutiel Gordon (1732), Israel Gedalya Cases (1733), and Salomon Lampronti, (1734). Most of these poems are not extant. Some are listed in Y. Zemora, Rabi Moshe Ḥayyim Luzzatto, Sefer HaShirim (Mosad HaRav Kook: Jerusalem, 5710).
[52] See David Malkiel, “Christian Hebraism in a Contemporary Key: The Search for Hebrew Epitaph Poetry in Seventeenth Century Italy,” Jewish Quarterly Review 96:1 (Winter 2006), 123-146.
[53] Bernardino Ramazzini, A Treatise of the Diseases of the Tradesman (Andrew Bell: London, 1705), 196-197, cited in Robert Jutte, The Jewish Body (University of Pennsylvania Press: Philadelphia, 2021), 177.
[54] Luzzatto is listed in Modena and Morpurgo, n. 305, p. 107.
[55] See Modena and Morpurgo, and Reichman, “The Valmadonna Trust Broadsides.”
[56] See the website of the Museo del Territorio on San Daniele del Friuli here. The site lists four of this graduates ancestors but does not mention him. He would be the fifth.
[57] See Modena and Morpurgo, 76. There is a misprint showing Luzzatto graduating in 1794. In a note on his relative, Isacco del Raffael, the authors correctly state the year of graduation as 1797.
[58] Cited in D. Mirsky, The Life and Work of Ephraim Luzzatto (New York: Ktav Publishers, 1987), 8.
[59] See Mirsky, Ephraim Luzzatto, op. cit, 8.
[60] Sabbato Vita Marini (1662-1748), Benedetto Frizzi (1756-1844), Medoro Samuele (1788-1854), Amedeo Conegliano (1767–1851), Donato Benvenisti (1787–1835).
[61] For reference to Marini’s graduation from Padua, see Modena and Morpurgo, 41, n. 100. Modena and Morpurgo confuse the two Marinis and reference Friedenwald’s mention of Marini as witness for Pictor’s diploma in association with Shabtai Aharon instead of Shabtai Ḥayyim.
[62] See here. The author of the On the Main Line blog may have confused Shabtai Aḥaron Ḥayim Marini (1685–1762) with Shabtai Ḥayim Marini (1662–1748). The blog cites a passage from the Ḥida’s Ma‘agal Tov (p. 82) that mentions in passing that Chida attended a lecture/sermon of Marini, after which they shared a meal together. A manuscript draft of one of Marini’s sermons was auctioned in November 26, 2013. See here). In the notes for the auction, it states that “many letters written to him (Marini) are featured in the book ‘Iggrot Ramḥal’. The Ramḥal mentions him tens of times in his letters. He was the one who convinced the Ramḥal to leave Europe and immigrate to Eretz Yisrael.”
[63] This translation was published many times between 1500 and 1700, with the last edition in 1832. Marini also adapted Pirke Avot into verses and composed occasional poems for weddings. See Laura Roumani’s critical edition of Marini’s work, “Le Metamorfosi di Ovidio nella traduzione ebraica di Shabbetay Ḥayyim Marini di Padova” [Ovid’s Metamorphoses translated into Hebrew by Shabtai Ḥayyim Marini from Padua] (PhD diss., University of Turin, 1992). See also L. Roumani, “The Legend of Daphne and Apollo in Ovid’s Metamorphoses Translated into Hebrew by Shabbetay Ḥayyim Marini” [in Italian], Henoch (Turin University) 13 (1991): 319–335. See the small volume by Jacob Goldenthal, Rieti und Marini: Dante und Ovid in Hebräischer Umkleidung (Vienna: Gerold, 1851).
[64] https://www.kedem-auctions.com/en/content/handwritten-lectures-dr-samuel-medoro-circumcision-copy-letters-italian-scholars-and
[65] See Reichman, “Yeshiva Medical School,” op. cit.
[66] A rare Italian version of this work is found in Padua and a page is reproduced for the exhibit. It was added in light of our recent experience with Covid-19. There are a number of extant Hebrew manuscript versions of this work, and it was only published in the 20th century by Cecil Roth. See Cecil Roth, ed., Abraham Catalano, “Olam Hafukh,” Kovetz al Yad 4:14 (1946), 67–101.
[67] Cynthia Klestinec, “A History of Anatomy Theaters in Sixteenth Century Padua,” Journal of the History of Medicine and Allied Sciences 59:3 (2004), n. 74.
[68] Much has been written on Tuviyah. For the most recent contribution, see Kenneth Collins and Samuel Kottek, eds., Ma’ase Tuviya (Venice, 1708): Tuviya Cohen on Medicine and Science (Jerusalem: Muriel and Philip Berman Medical Library of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 2021).
[69] Joanna Weinberg, “The Collection of Hebrew Printed Books in the Antoniana Library of Padua,” Il Santo 14:3 (September-December 1974): 271-303.
[70] Weinberg, #134.
[71] #121 Weinberg. I discussed this work briefly in two other Seforim Blog entries, E. Reichman, “The Discovery of a Hidden Treasure in the Vatican and the Correction of a Centuries-Old Error,” Seforim Blog (here), January 11, 2022; idem, “Samuel Vita Della Volta (1772-1853): An Underappreciated Bibliophile and his Medical ‘Diploma’tic Journey,” Seforim Blog (here), November 5, 2021.
 [72] #10 Weinberg
[73] In #15 R. Minz addresses the issue of wearing masks (masquerade?) on Purim for both men and women (masquerade?). Maharam Padua (#86) discusses whether a student has to pay a tutor if the tutor flees during a plague.
[74] #12 Weinberg
[75] See the creative essay by Stefano Gulizia, “The Paduan Rebbi: A Note on Galileo’s Household and Mediterranean Science in the Seventeenth Century,” Philosophical Readings VII:3 (2015), 43-52.
[76] Padua University Archives, Raccolta Diplomi, 33. This poem was found folded in the same file as Coen’s diploma and has gone previously unnoticed. For further discussion, see Edward Reichman, Congratulatory Poems for the Jewish Medical Graduates of the University of Padua (University of Padua Press, forthcoming).
[77] MS. Michael 528, 60 recto, number 341. See Simon Bernstein, Divan of Rabbi Yehuda Arye MiModena (Hebrew) (Philadelphia, 1932), n. 79.
[78] I thank Dr. Susan Einbinder and Dr. Richard Steiner for assistance in interpreting this poem. Bernstein omits a letter in the second word of the third line and it should read “b’ulpana d’asuta” i. e., medical school. The other poem in Aramaic was written for Yehudah Matzliaḥ Padova. See Meir Benayahu, “Poems for the Graduation of the Physician Yehuda Matzliaḥ Padua,” (Hebrew) Koroth 7:1-2 (Nisan, 5736), 39-49.
[79] Modena wrote a poem for the birth of Loria’s son Shimon in August 1633. See Bernstein, Divan, op. cit., n. 80. A copy of this poem is in the British Library, The Oriental and India Office Collections, Shelfmark 1978.f.5.


[80] See S. Simonsohn, Zikne Yehudah (Mosad HaRav Kook: Jerusalem, 5716), 46.
[81] See Mark R. Cohen, trans. and ed., The Autobiography of a Seventeenth-Century Venetian Rabbi: Leon Modena’s Life of Judah (Princeton University Press, 1989), 142.
[82] See E. Reichman, “From Graduation to Contagion: Jewish Physicians Facing Plague in Padua, 1631” The Lehrhaus (here), September 8, 2020.
[83] On Lampronti, see Asher Salah, La République des Lettres: Rabbins, écrivains et medecins, juifs en Italie au XVIIIe siècle (Brill: Leiden, 2007), n. 516.
[84] Kedem Auction #22 Catalogue (May 8, 2012), Lot 217.
[85] Entry n. 169, 1774.
[86] Modena and Morpurgo, 95. Zamorani, from Ferrara, was also a student of Solomon Lampronti. See Nepi Ghirondi, Toldot Gedolei Yisrael, p. 133.
[87] On Navarra, see Cecil Roth, “Rabbi Menahem Navarra: His Life and Time 1717-1777. A Chapter in the History of the Jews of Verona,” Jewish Quarterly Review 15:4 (April, 1925), 427-466.
[88] Kaufmann Collection in the Hungarian Academy of Sciences Library in Budapest, Hungary (580, 20). There is also a copy in the British Library (Oriental and India Office Collections, Shelfmark 1978.f.3).
[89] See Navarra’s circumcision ledger (1745-1783) at NLI system n. 990001857430205171. The original ledger is housed in the University of Leeds in the Cecil Roth Collection (MS Roth/208). The children of Basilea are listed at numbers 41 and 91, and the children of Ferrarese at numbers 116, 130 and 148.
[90] M and M p. 87.
[91] CAJS Rar Ms 503. I thank Chaim Meiselman for bringing this to my attention.
[92] Fermi and Fermo were different family names.
[93] The catalogue notes references to Morpurgo on pages 16r and 24r. There is an additional mention of Morpurgo on page 32v (item 167), which is pictured here. The name Morpurgo spans across two lines. On Morpurgo, see E. Reichman, “The Illustrated Life of an Illustrious Renaissance Jew: Rabbi Dr. Shimshon Morpurgo (1681-1740),” Seforim Blog (here), June 22, 2021.
[94] The catalogue identifies references by the author to his family members, but I was unable to find any corroborated genealogical information elsewhere.




A Few Comments Regarding The First Woodcut Border Accompanying The Prague 1526 Haggadah

A Few Comments Regarding The First Woodcut Border Accompanying The Prague 1526 Haggadah

The Prague 1526 edition of the Haggadah is one of the most important illustrated haggadot ever published.  It is perhaps the earliest printed illustrated haggadah for a Jewish audience and served as a model for many subsequent illustrated haggadot.[1] The earliest printed haggadah with illustration was published in 1512 in Latin and for a non-Jewish audience. That haggadah contains six woodcuts, and was intended as a response to the infamous anti-Semite Pfefferkorn’s screeds against Judaism.[2]The woodcut accompanying the first page shows three Jews around the seder who have four cups in front of them.  Although the Talmud explicitly states that one is not required to have four distinct cups of wine, presumably the image is a crude method of indicating the four-fold nature of the wine during the seder rather than prescribing custom.

The Prague 1526 edition was published by Gershom and his brother Gronom Katz on Sunday, 26th of Tevet 5287 or December 30, 1526.[3] This detailed publication information does not appear on the title page, rather it appears at the end of the book and is  referred to as a colophon.  The colophon is a manuscript convention that was incorporated into earlier printed books. The Prague 1526 edition does not have a title page at all.  At that time, the usage of the title page was only in its early stages.[4]

  1.          The Earliest Hebrew Title Pages

As with non-Hebrew titles, the title page developed over time, both in terms of content as well as usage.[5]   The first Hebrew title page is that of the Sefer Rokeah published in Fano in 1505.[6] But that title page is really one of the more basic forms of the title page, known as a “label title page” providing only the title and author and no other ornamentation or information.[7] In that same year, an edition of Abarbanel’s Zevah Pesach was published in Constantinople.  This edition was the first to contain a border with the title and author, but no place or date of publication.[8] The first Hebrew book containing all the elements of a traditional title page, border, title, author, place and date is likely the 1511 Pesaro edition of the Talmud published by Soncino.[9]

Traditionally, the Hebrew title page is referred to as a “sha’ar” or gate.  The theory behind this description is that many title page borders are comprised of “gates,” the most common are the pillars that adorn many Hebrew books and are assumed to be those at Saint Peter’s Basillica in Rome.  Their inclusion in Hebrew books is perhaps linked to the (discredited) notion that the Catholic Church maintains certain portions of the Jewish Temple, and these pillars were actually in the Temple.  The first Hebrew book to use an architectural border is Daniel Bomberg’s edition of the Jerusalem Talmud published in 1522.[10]

  1. Illustrations in Hebrew Books

Returning to the Prague 1526 haggadah, as mentioned previously, this edition was copiously illustrated, including the first page of the book. This is not the first example of Hebrew printed illustrations.  The earliest illustration to appear in a Hebrew book is that of a lulav and a handful of other explanatory images accompanying the Rome edition of the Sefer Mitzvot Gedolot dated to before 1480.[11]

 

The first fully illustrated Hebrew book was published in the incunabula period as well, it is Isaac ben Solomon Ibn Sahula’s Meshal ha-Qadmoni, printed in Italy, circa 1491, by Gershom Soncino.[12]

The border surrounding the first page of the Prague 1526 incorporates both Jewish as well as non-Jewish elements.  First, it is obvious that a Jew had a hand in the border as, in the inset, it displays someone performing bedikat hametz (searching for the bread) where he is using the traditional implements of a candle and chicken feather.  The outside border is less Jewish, and as many have noted, appears to be a copy of Italian/German renaissance borders.  The two most likely candidates for models for Prague are the border first used in the 1518 edition of Sacri Doctoris by Raymond Lulli (available here) or a border first used in 1519 for Paolo Ricci’s, Lepida et litere in Augsburg and reused in an Augsburg 1522 edition of Erasmus, Ad reverendum (available here).  Although we cannot pinpoint exactly which of these, if any, served as a model, what is clear is that among the images included in this border are bare-breasted women.

The use of bare breasted women to illustrate the haggadah is not limited to Prague. Both Charles Wengrov and Elliot Horowitz have pointed to earlier manuscript antecedents for Prague’s usage of such illustrations.[13] Aside from the printed example of the Prague 1526 Haggadah, this convention continued in manuscripts as well illuminated after 1526.  There are at least four such 16th century examples.[14] Additionally, and contrary to Horwitz’s contention that Spanish Jews were less accepting of such displays,[15] the Sarajevo Haggadah, which originated in Spain around 1350, includes two panels of Adam and Eve both depicting a bare-breasted Eve.

 

Likewise, the Golden Haggadah, 1320 Spanish manuscript includes the same form of illustration of the Adam and Eve scene.  Additionally, the Golden Haggadah includes images of nude bathers when it depicts Miriam standing from afar to see what will become of baby Moses.[16]

III.            Censorship in Modern Reprints of Prague 1526

            These historical antecedents notwithstanding, recent reprints of Prague 1526 have not been as accepting.  This initial border has been altered to airbrush and removes the bare breasts.  In 1989, a facsimile edition of Prague 1526 was published with the commentary of the Prague rabbi, Rabbi Yehuda Loew (Maharal). This border has been “touched up.”

Similarly, in 1998, a colorized facsimile edition of Prague 1526 was published.  Although the publishers took great pains to provide color where before there was black and white, they also altered this border.

Oddly enough, although they found this image offensive, they decided to reproduce it in two other places in this reprint even though this image only appears once in the original. Here is the original:

Not only is the first border altered, but other instances of bare breasts have been removed; most notably the image accompanying the verse from Ezekiel 16:7 “I made you grow like a plant of the field. You grew up and developed and became the most beautiful of jewels. Your breasts were formed and your hair grew, you who were naked and bare.”

(As discussed previously here a later, Venice 1609, edition also altered this page.)  Again in 2001, a facsimile of Prague 1526 “published by the Religious Council of Efrat in honor of the settlement’s twentieth anniversary . . . . two illustrations are surreptitiously deleted: the bare breasted woman” accompanying the verse from Ezekiel.[17] Most recently, in 2009, the airbrushed image of this woman was reproduced in The Schechter Haggadah: art, history; commentary.[18]

[1] There may be an earlier illustrated print haggadah, however, only 12 leaves of this haggadah are extant making it difficult to date (or identify the country of origin).  For a bibliography regarding this fragment haggadah see Y. Yudlov, Otzar haHaggadot, Magnes Press, Jerusalem:1997, entry 9; and most recently, Eva Frojmovic, “From Naples to Constantinople: The Aesop Workshop’s Woodcuts in the Oldest Illustration Printed Haggadah,” in The Library, Sixth Series, Vol. XVIII, No. 2, June:1996, pp. 87-109.

[2]  See R. Cohen, Jewish Icons: Art & Society in Modern Europe, University of California Press, CA:1998, pp. 21-22; see also Y.H. Yerushalmi, Haggadah; History: A Panorama in Facsimile, Philidelphia:1978, plates 6-8.

[3] Aside from the edition discussed herein, there is at least one copy of another haggadah that is also published by Cohen in Prague that same year.  While both versions are substantially similar, some of the images and borders have been changed.  Relevant for our purposes, is that the image accompanying “Sefokh” which is a full
page border with images of bare breasted women, has been replaced with a more innocuous border found elsewhere in the haggadah.  See Yudlov, Otzar, entry 8; A. Ya’ari, Bibliography of the Passover Haggadah,
Bamberg & Wahrman, Jerusalem:1960, entry 7; Rabbi Charles Wengrov, Haggadah & Woodcut: an Introduction to the Passover Haggadah Completed by Gershom Cohen in Prague, Shulsinger Bros., New York:1967, pp. 78-9.

[4] The first Prague imprint to include a separate title page is in a 1526 edition of Yotzrot published by Cohen.  See Wengrov, Haggadah & Woodcut, p. 82 n.238.

[5] Although, with regard to the adoption of the title page, Jews appear to adopt this convention at or near the time as society at large, that was not the case with other literary advances.  While the majority of the western world adopted the codex and discarded the scroll some time in the third century, the first recorded Jewish reference to the codex does not occur until the late
eighth or the early ninth centuries.  See Anthony Grafton, “From Roll to Codex: A Christian Initiative,” in Crossing Borders, Hebrew Manuscripts as a Meeting-place of Cultures, ed. Piet van Boxel & Sabine Arndt, Bodleian Library:2012, pp. 15-20.

[6] A.M. Habermann, Title Pages of Hebrew Books, Museum of Printing Art, Safed:1969, pp. 8-9.

[7] For a discussion of the development of the title page as well as the different types, i.e., label, border, end-title, see M.M. Smith, The Title-Page its early development 1460-1510, The British Library & Oak Knoll Press, London & Deleware:2000.

[8] See M.J. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus, Brill, Leiden & Boston:2004, vol. I, pp. 6-7.

[9] The border used for the Pesaro Talmuds first appeared in Decachordum Christianum (The Christian Ten String Harpsichord) published in Fano, 1507 by Gershom Soncino.  See M.J. Heller, Printing the Talmud, pp. 104-117  Additionally, see Heller’s discussion, id. p. 113, regarding Soncino’s reuse of the Dechachaordum‘s frames.  In reality, although the frames were originally cut for Decachordum, they were first used on Gershom’s edition of Bahya ibn Pakua’s commentary on the Torah, published four months prior to Decachordum.  See M.J. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus, Brill, Leiden & Boston:2004, vol. I, p. 41; Smith, The Title-Page, supra, pp. 47-59 (discussing the use of the blank title page).

[10]  See A.M. Habermann, “The Jewish Art of the Printed Book,” in Jewish Art, An Illustrated History, ed. Cecil Roth [revised ed. by B. Narkiss], New York Graphic Society Ltd., Connecticut:1971, pp. 167-68.  In Habermann’s earlier work, Title Pages of Hebrew Books, p. 9, he erroneously asserts that the earliest works to include architectural title pages were Soncino’s Melitza le-Maskil and Bomberg’s Tanach, both published in 1524/25.

[11]  See Joshua Bloch, “The Library’s Roman Hebrew Incunabula,” in Hebrew Printing & Bibliography, ed. Charles Berlin, New York:1976, p. 140.  For a description of this work see S. Iakerson, Catalogue of Hebrew Incunabula from the Collection of the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, JTS, New York & Jerusalem:2005, entry 7.

[12] See A.M. Habermann, “The Jewish Art of the Printed Book,” supra, at 169.  Habermann appears to argue that this is first printed Hebrew book containing illustrations, is incorrect. As discussed above, the first was the Rome edition of Sefer Mitzvot Gedolot. He is not alone in this error.  Ursula Schubert makes the same error.  See Ursula Schubert, Jewish Book Art, From the Renaissance until Emancipation, [Hebrew], Kibbutz hami-Uchad, Tel Aviv:1994, p. 27.  Habermann, id., notes that the great Hebrew bibliographer, Mortiz Steinschneider, was tricked with regard to one of the illustrations contained in Meshal
ha-Qadmoni
.  Steinschneider, in a discussion about the alleged Christian origins of these illustrations, called attention to the fact that in one of them contains a monk wearing a crucifix. But, in the interim we have learned “that this last embellishment was a
practical joke played by a Christian scholar. . . [the crucifix] having been added by [a later] hand!”  Regarding the history and origins of the images included in Meshal ha-Qadmoni, see César Merchán-Hamann, “Fables from East to West,” in Crossing Borders, pp. 35-44; Ursula Schubert, Jewish Book Art, pp. 27-8.

[13]  Rabbi Charles Wengrov, Haggadah & Woodcut, p. 47 nn.112-13;Elliot Horowitz, “Between Cleanliness and Godliness,” in Tov Elem: Memory, Community & Gender in Medieval & Early Modern Jewish Societies, ed. E. Baumgarten, et al., Bialik Institute, Jerusalem:2011, *38-*39.

[14] Mendel Metzger, La Haggada Enluminée, E.J. Brill:1973, plate LIV, nos. 303-305; Chantily Haggadah, Musée Condé, Ms.
732, fol. 13, reproduced in Index of Jewish Art, eds. B. Narkiss & G. Sed-Rajna, Jerusalem-Paris:1976, vol. I, card no. 36.

[15] Horowitz, “Between Cleanliness,” at *38, (“One suspects that a Spanish Jew coming to Germany in the early 15th century would have been equally surprised to see an image of a naked woman” in a Hebrew manuscript.).

[16]  The Golden Haggadah, ed. Bezalel Narkiss, Pomegranate Artbooks, California:1997, figs. 17 & 24.

[17]  Id. n.37.  Horowitz only notes the 2001 example of censorship of Prague 1526, and apparently is unaware of the earlier
examples.  Additionally, he chastises the Efrat reproduction for erroneously indicating a 1527 publication date.  Efrat is not only in erring regarding the secular date.  The first facsimile edition (Berlin:1925), which includes a scholarly introduction, full title
is:  “Die Pessach Haggadah Des Gerschom Kohen Gedruckt Zu Prag 5287/1527.” Perhaps one can excuse the error as, in reality, it was completed on the eve of 1527, December 30, 1526.

[18] The Schechter Haggadah: Art, History & Commentary, [illustrations selected and annotated by David Golinkin], Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies, Jerusalem:2009, p. 36, fig. 16.1.




The Chanukah Omission

The Chanukah Omission

by Eliezer Brodt

    Every Yom Tov has its famous questions that show up repeatedly in writings and shiurim. Chanukah, too, has its share of well-known questions. In this article, I would like to deal with one famous question that has some not-very-famous answers. A few years ago I dealt with this topic on the Seforim Blog (here). More recently in Ami Magazine (# 50) I returned to some of the topics related to this. This post contains new information as well as corrections that were not included in those earlier articles. The question is, why there is no special masechta in the Mishna devoted to Chanukah, as opposed to the other Yamim Tovim which have their own masechta?[1] Over the years, many answers have been given, some based on chassidus, others based on machshava, and still others in a kabbalistic vein.[2] In this article, I will discuss a few different answers. While, answering this question I will touch on some other issues: what exactly is Megillas Taanis, when was it written, and what role did Rabbenu Hakadosh have in the writing of the Mishna.

A first source and the seven masechtos

At the outset, I would like to point out that the first source I have found thus far that deals with this question is Rabbi Yosef Karo in his work Maggid Mesharim.[3]It is interesting to note, that the most famous question related to Chanukah was also asked by Rabbi Yosef Karo, and is commonly referred to by the name of his sefer, as the “Bais Yosef’s Kasha.[4] That question, is: Why is Chanukah eight days? Since there was enough oil for one night, what exactly was the miracle of the first night? One of the answers given to the question is based on a famous Rambam that gives an important insight about what Rabbenu Hakodesh included in the Mishna. According to the Rambam, the halachos of tefillin, tzitzis, and mezuzos, as well as the nusach of tefillah and several other areas of halacha are not included in the Mishna at all because these halachos are well-known to the masses; there was no need to include them.[5]

אבל דיני הציצית והתפלין והמזוזות וסדר עשייתן והברכות הראויות להן וכן הדינים השייכים לכך והשאלות שנתעוררו בהן אין ממטרת חבורנו לדבר בכך לפי שאנחנו מפרשים והרי המשנה לא קבעה למצות אלו דברים מיוחדים הכוללים את כל משפטיהם כדי שנפרשם, וטעם הדבר לדעתי פרסומן בזמן חבור המשנה, ושהם היו דברים מפורסמים רגילים אצל ההמונים והיחידים לא נעלם ענינם מאף אחד, ולפיכך לא היה מקום לדעתו לדבר בהם, כשם שלא קבע סדר התפלה כלומר נוסחה וסדר מנוי שליח צבור מחמת פרסומו של דבר, לפי שלא חסר סדור אלא חבר ספר דינים (פירוש המשנה, מנחות פרק ד משנה א.

(There are some achronim who posit that this rationale applies to Chanukah, as well. That is, Chanukah was also well-known, and that’s why it was not necessary to include it in the Mishna.[6] Rabbi Yaakov Schorr has a problem with the statement by the Rambam that the laws and details of tefillin and mezuzah were well known—these mitzvos are very complicated and contain many details. Indeed, they are arguably much more complex than Kriyas Shema, which does have its own mesechta. To illustrate this point, the Chofetz Chaim’s son writes that his father spent months working on just two simanim of Hilchos Tefillin for his work, the Mishna Berura.[7] So too, there are many halachos related to Chanukah, and it is hard to believe that everyone knew all the halachos. However, the Maharatz Chayes, who bases his answer to the question on this same concept of the Rambam, adds an important point which would answer Rabbi Schorr’s problem. He says that the masses all knew about lighting the menorah. All the rest of the halachos of Chanukah which are discussed in the Gemara are from after the period of the Mishna, he says, and that is why Rebbe did not include them in the Mishna.[8] Rabbi Schorr resolves his own problem by suggesting that there was a Maseches Soferim devoted to the laws of tefillin, but it was lost. He claims that it forms the basis of the Maseches Soferim which we have today.[9] With this introduction, we can perhaps understand the following answers to our question, which are based on the assumption that there was a Maseches Chanukah which was lost. The Rishonim refer to “seven minor masechtos“; however, the earlier Achronim did not have these masechtos. Today, we do have “seven masechtos “, although, as we shall see, not everyone agrees that these are the same seven masechtos that the Rishonim had. During the period that these masechtos were unknown, there was some speculation as to what they contained. Rav Avraham Ben HaGra quotes his father, the Gra, in regard to what the exact titles of the seven masechtos were, and he told him that amongst the titles was Maseches Chanukah.[10]

אמנם שמעתי מאדוני אבי הגאון נר”ו שהשבע מסכות קטנות המה חוץ מאשר נמצא לנו והן מסכת תפלין ומסכת חנוכה ומסי’ מזוזה. (רב ופעלים הקדמה דף ח ע”א) As far as we know today, we have all the seven masechtos and none of them are about Chanukah.[11]

But it is possible that there was such a masechta which was lost. Rav David Luria (Radal) assumes as much and uses this assumption to understand the Teshuvos Hagaonim and says that it evidences additional masechtos that are no longer extant.[12]

ובא אלינו איש חכם וחסיד זקן ודרש בישיבה כתיב ופן תשא עיניך השמימה וראית את השמש זה נדר ואת הירח זו שבועה… וסדר משנה תוספת על סדרי שלנו ראינו בידו שהיה מביא ולא זכינו להעתיק שסבתו גדולה ונחפז ללכת ואתם אחינו הזהרו בענין זה וטוב לכם (שערי תשובה, סימן קמג).

The Vilna Gaon’s great-nephew reports that the Gra said there was even a masechta titled Maseches Emuna, which also appears to have been lost.[13]

ואמר לי איך ששמע מדו”ז הגאון מו”ה אלי’ ז”ל שהיו כמה וכמה מסכות על המדות כמו מסכתא ענוה ומסכתא בטחון וכדומה רק שנאבדה ממנו.

The one we already had

A different answer given by many [14] is that the reason why Rebbe did not have a whole masechta about Chanukah was because there was one already: Megillas Taanis! In fact, in one of the editions of Megillas Taanis (the original edition with the Pirush ha-Eshel), it says on the frontispiece: “Megillas Taanis, which is Masseches Chanukah.” The Perush ha-Eshel on Megilas Taanis wants to suggest that the Gra did not mean that there was a masechta titled Chanukah. Instead, the Gra meant Megillas Taanis. Indeed, in earlier printings of the Shas, Megillas Taanis was included with the Masechtos Ketanos.[15] Whether or not the Gra himself meant Megillas Taanis, many do say that Megillas Taanis is really Maseches Chanukah, since the most important and lengthy chapter is about Chanukah. Therefore the answer to why Rebbi did not include a masechta about Chanukah was simply because there was one already— Megillas Taanis. This answer is backed up with a statement found in the Behag, which says “that elders of Beis Shamai and Hillel wrote Megillas Taanis.”[16] זקני בית שמאי ובית הלל,… והם כתבו מגילת תעניות… To better understand this, an explanation about the nature of Megillas Taanis is needed. Megillas Taanis is our earliest written halachic text, dating from much before our Mishnayos. Some say it was so well-known that even children knew it by heart.[17] In the standard Megillas Taanis, there are two parts: one written in Aramaic, which is a list of various days which one should not fast or say hespedim on. This part is only two hundred and seventy words long. The other part was written in Hebrew and includes a lengthier description of each particular day. The longest entry in the latter part is about Chanukah. It contains reasons for the Yom Tov and some of the halachos. With this in mind, it’s not so strange to say that there is no need for a special masechta about Chanukah. Since in the earliest written text we have there is a lengthy entry about Chanukah, why would Rabbenu Hakodesh have to repeat it? The problem with this answer is that while Megillas Taanis dates from before our Mishnayos, it contains significant additions from a later time. The Maharatz Chayes and Radal say that the Aramaic part was written very early, at the point when it was not permissible to write down Torah Sheba’al Peh. At a later point, when it was permitted, the Hebrew parts were added. Maharatz Chayes says that it was after the era of Rabbenu Hakodesh. Earlier than him, Rav Yaakov Emden wrote (in his introduction to his notes on Megillas Taanis) that it was completed at the end of the era of the Tannaim. The bulk of the discussion regarding Chanukah that appears in Megillas Taanis is in the Hebrew part. It doesn’t make sense that Rebbi did not include Chanukah in the Mishna because of sections of Megillas Taanis that had yet to be written.[18] The Gedolim who first suggested that Megillas Taanis is the reason that Rabbenu Hakodesh did not include Chanukah in Mishnayos did not realize that it was written at two different time periods. However, Rabbi Dovid Horowitz in an article in Hapeles turns the historical difficulty on its head when he argues, based on Tosafos, that the person who wrote the Hebrew parts of Megillas Taanis was Rabbenu Hakodesh.[19] The problem with Rabbi Horowitz’s point is that it seems most likely that the Hebrew portion was written later than Rabbenu Hakodesh, and most do not agree with Tosafos on this point. [20] Therefore, this answer does not explain the omission of Chanukah from the Mishna according to most authorities.[21] Another answer in the same vein was suggested by Rabbi S.Z. Schick. Rav Schick conjectures that there was a Sefer Hashmonaim written by Shammai and Hillel which recorded the nissim of Chanukah, and therefore, there was no separate Mishna.[22] This seems to be based on the quote from the Behag we brought earlier. Others say this might be a reference to Sefer Makabbim or Megillas Antiyochus. Although it is likely that these two works are from early times, it is not clear how early.[23] As an aside, there is a book bearing the title Maseches Chanukah, but it was written as a parody, similar to Maseches Purim of Rav Kalonymus[24].

Rebellion, Romans, and the Power of Tradition

Another explanation for the Chanukah omission is from the Edos Beyehosef, who quotes a Yerushalmi[25] which relates the following: A child was born to the King Trajanus on Tisha B’av, and the child died on Chanukah. The Jews were not sure whether or not to light neros Chanukah, but in the end, they did. The king’s wife told him to come back from a war that he was in middle of fighting in order to fight the Jews who were rebelling against him!

בימי טרוגיינוס הרשע נולד לו בן בתשעה באב והיו מתענין מתה בתו בחנוכה והדליקו נירות שלחה אשתו ואמרה לו עד שאת מכבש את הברבריים בוא וכבוש את היהודים שמרדו בך חשב מיתי לעשרה יומין ואתא לחמשה אתא ואשכחון עסיקין באורייתא בפסוקא ישא עליך גוי מרחוק מקצה הארץ וגומ’ אמר לון מה מה הויתון עסיקין אמרון ליה הכין וכן אמר לון ההוא גברא הוא דחשב מיתי לעשרה יומין ואתא לחמשה והקיפן ליגיונות והרגן אמר לנשיהן נשמעות אתם לליגיונותי ואין אני הורג אתכם אמרון ליה מה דעבדת בארעייא עביד בעילייא ועירב דמן בדמן והלך הדם בים עד קיפרוס באותה השעה נגדעה קרן ישראל ועוד אינה עתידה לחזור למקומה עד שיבוא בן דוד (תלמוד ירושלמי,סוכה, פרק ה)

The Edos Beyehosef writes that Rabbenu Hakadosh chose not to include Chanukah in the Mishna. If a simple lighting of neiros caused such a reaction from our enemies, all the more so if this would be included in our crucial text—the Mishna.[26]

וכתיבת דיני נר חנוכה יש בה פירסום יותר מהדלקה מפני שהדלקה היא בבתי ישראל בזמן מועט חי’ ימים בשנה חצי שעה בכלל לילה ואפ’ זה סמיה בידן להדליק בפנים אם יש חשש סכנה אבל דבר בכתב קיים כל הימים ומתפשט בעולם על ידי כל אדם המעתיקם כל מה שרוצה… ומפני זה השמיט רבי כתיבת דיני חנוכה…

Rabbi Yehoshua Preil in Eglei Tal relates that the Roman emperor, Antoninus, was a good friend of Rebbi, and he allowed the Jews to start keeping Shabbos and other Mitzvos. However, since he had just become king, allowing the Jews to celebrate Chanukah was dangerous for his kingdom. Therefore, Rebbi did not speak about this Yom Tov openly. [27]

כי הנה אנדריונוס קיסר אחרי הכניעו את המורדים בביתר שפך כאש חמתו על כל ישראל וישבת חגם, חרשם ושבתם כי גזר על שבת ויום טוב מלה ונדה וכיוצא בו, אולם בימי המלך הבא אחריו אנטוניוס פיוס ידידו של רבי רוח לישראל כמעט, אך כנראה לא השיב את גזרת ההולך לפניו בדבר חנוכה, כי באמת יקשה גם על מלך חסיד כמוהו להניח חג לאומי כזה לעם אשר זה מעט הערה למות נפשו ואך בעמל רב נגרע קרנו זה שנות מספר, ועל כן לא היה יכול רבינו הקדוש נשיא ישראל לדבר בזה בפומי…

Rabbi Reuven Margolios answers, along these lines, that the Romans at the time were interested in the Torah She-be’al Peh, specifically concerned that there was nothing in Torah She-be’al Peh that was against the non-Jews. Thus, in order that the Romans shouldn’t have the wrong idea about the Jews’ loyalty to the government, Rebbi did not want to include Chanukah in the Mishna.[28]

ובכן כאשר תלמי המלך בזמנו צוה להעתיק לו התורה שבכתב לידע מה כתיב בה כן התענייה הנציבות לידע תוכן התורה שבעל פה … דרישה כזאת היא אשר יכלה להמריץ את נשיא ישראל להתעודד ולערוך בספר גלוי לכל העמים תורת היהודים וקבלתם יסודי התורה שבעל פה להתודע ולהגלות שאין בה הטחת דברים נגד כל אומה ולשון ולא כל תעודה מדינית. ואחר אשר חשב רבי שספרו יבוקר מאנשי מדע העומדים מחוץ ליהודת שיחרצו עליו משפטם לפני כס הממשלה המרכזית ברומא. נבין למה השמיט ממשנתו דברים חשובים עקרים בתורת ישראל … כן לא שנה ענין חנוכה והלכותיה במשנה, בעוד אשר להלכות פורים קבע מסכת מיוחדת, שזהו לאשר כל כאלו היו למרות רוח הרומיים שחשבום כענינים פוליטיים חגיגת הנצחון הלאומי ותוקת חפשיותו.

Rabbi Dov Berish Ashkenazi writes that since the Chanukah miracle was to show us the authenticity of the transmission of Torah from Moshe Rabbeinu, the story of Chanukah was not written down— it is just based on mesorah[29]. Along these lines, Rabbi Alexander Moshe Lapidos answers that the reason Chanukah isn’t written down is to show the power of Torah She-be’al Peh.[30]

לא נכתבה מגילת חנוכה, לפי שנתקנה להורות תוקף תורה שבעל פה, ותולדתיה כיוצא שלא נכתבה… חנוכה המורה על תורה שבעל פה ע”כ לא ניתנה להכתב…

(תורת הגאון רבי אלכסנדר משה, עמ’ רנו)

Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach says something similar. He answers that the main bris between us and Hashem is the Torah She-be’al Peh. The Greeks wanted to take this away from us, yet Hashem made miracles so that it remained with us. That is why this mitzvah is so special to us and that is why it is not written down openly.[31]

יש להבין אם מצוה זו כ”כ חביבה היא לנו, כמו שכתב הרמב”ם שמצוה חביבה היא עד מאד, למה באמת לא ניתנה ליכתב, אולם עיקר כריתת ברית שכרת הקב”ה עם ישראל הוא רק בעבור תורה שבעל פה כמו שכתב בגיטין ס’ ע”ב ומשום כך הואיל ומלכות יון הרשעה רצתה שלא יהי’ לנו ח”ו חלק באלקי ישראל, לכן נתחבבה מצוה זו ביותר שנשארה כולה תורה שבעל פה אשר רק על ידי תורה שבעל פה איכא כריתת ברית בינינו ובין ה’ ולכן אפילו במשניות לא נזכר כלל דיני חנוכה וכל ענין חנוכה כי אם במקומות אחדים בדרך רמז בעלמא.

Another answer given by Rav Alexander Moshe Lapidos is that when Torah She-be’al Peh was allowed to be written, not everything was allowed to be written. Only later on, the Gemara was allowed to be written. Rabbenu Hakadosh only wrote down things that had sources in the Torah, or gezeros (decrees) to make sure one kept things in the Torah. Chanukah does not fall into those categories. Only later on, in the times of the Gemara, was it allowed to be recorded.[32]

דבקושי התירו לכתוב תורה שבעל פה והיו פסקי פסקי. מתחלה סתימת המשנה בימי רבנו הקדוש. ואחר זה בימי רבינא ורב אשי חתימת התלמוד, והשאר היו נוהגין במגלת סתרים עד שלאחר זה הותר לגמרי לפרסם בכתב כל מה שתלמיד ותיק מחדש. ורבנו הקדוש לא הרשה רק מה שהוא לפירוש לתורה שבעל פה ומה שיש לו סמך בכתוב, או מה שהוא לסייג, כמו הלל וברכות, ערובין, נטילת ידים, נר שבת ומגלה (מחיית עמלק). אבל חנוכה שאיננו לא פירוש ואין לו סמך בכתוב, ולא לסייג, לא היה נהוג רק במגלת סתרים בבריתות דר”ח ור”א… רק נרמזה במשנה ב”ק סוף פ”ו ואחריה הורשה לפרסם בכתב בתלמוד.

Rav Shmuel Auerbach writes: ובזה יבואר החביבות המיוחדת שבנס חנוכה, והטעם שאינו מפורש במשנה. בהשתלשלות, כל שלב יסודו מהמצב הקודם, והמשנה שהיא השלב הראשון של תורה שבעל פה, יש לה שייכות לתורה שבכתב, כי היא ראשית החלק הגלוי של תושבע”פ. וחנוכה כל מהותה היא גילוי תושבע”פ בלי מפורש בתורה שבכתב´היינו מציאות שחסר גילו שכינה ונבואה, בזמן של חושך וחורבן, ולזה לא שייך בנס החנוכה כתיבה. ודוקא המציאות שנס חנוכה לא נכתבה במשנה היא הסימן לחביבות מיוחדת, והיינו שחלקי התורה הפחות כתובים הם עילאיים. ומצב של של נס שכולו בתורה שבעל פה, ולא בתורה שבכתב, הרי כל כולו בין הקב”ה לעמו ישראל, ולא מופיע בחלקי התורה שנקראים גם על ידי הגוים בשבעים לשון (אהל רחל, חנוכה, עמ’ ל-לא).

Another answer given by Rav Shmuel Auerbach is: ונתבאר בזה גם הטעם שרבי לא פירוש דיני חנוכה במשנה. אמרו חז”ל עה”פ אילת השחר, שאסתר סוף הנסים, ופירושו, סוף הנסים הכתובים בכתבי הקודש. והמשנה אע”פ שהיא תחילת תורה שבעל פה, מכל מקום דיני המשנה הם דינים שיש להם שורשים בתורה שבכתב, וכל ענינו של חנוכה אינו שייך לתורה שבכתב, אלא הוא כל כולו תושבע”פ, שהתקוף של גילוי האור של תושבע”פ היא דוקא במצב של חושך והסתר פנים, שכבר נפסקה הנבואה, וזכו לכך דווקא מתוך ובגלל החושך, שהוצרכו לעמל ומסירות נפש כדי לגלות את אור התורה (אהל רחל, חנוכה, עמ’ קיח).

The Chasam Sofer’s answer

One of the most famous answers given to this question is by the Chasam Sofer, who is quoted by his grandson Rabbi Shlomo Sofer in the Chut Hameshulash as having said many times that the reason why the miracle of Chanukah is not in the Mishna is because Rabbeinu Hakadosh was a descendant of David Hamelech and the miracle of Chanukah was through the Chashmonaim who illegitimately took away the kingdom from the descendants of David. Since this was not to his liking, he omitted it from the Mishna, which was written with Ruach Hakodesh.[33]

מרגלא בפומי’ כי נס חנוכה לא נזכר כלל במשנה ואמר טעמו כי רבנו הקדוש מסדר המשנה הי’ מזרע דוד המלך ונס חנוכה נעשה על ידי חשמונאים שתפסו המלוכה ולא היה מזרע דוד וזה הרע לרבנו הקדוש ובכתבו המשנה על פי רוח הקודש נשמט הנס מחיבורו (חוט המשולש, דף נ ע”א).

This statement generated much controversy, and many went so far as to deny that the Chasam Sofer said such a thing.[34] The bulk of the issues relating to this answer of the Chasam Sofer were dealt with by Rav Moshe Zvi Neriah in an excellent article on the topic.[35] The most obvious objection to the Chasam Sofer is that the issue is not that Chanukah is never mentioned in the Mishna—in fact, it is a few times. The question is why there isn’t a complete mesechta devoted to it. Another problem raised by Rabbi Neriah is that, as we have seen above, the Behag writes that the elders of Shammai and Hillel, an ancestor of Rebbi, did record the story of Chanukah. Due to these and other issues, some have tried to explain the words of the Chasam Sofer differently.[36] This is not the first statement in the Chut Hameshulash that has been questioned. A daughter of the Chasam Sofer is reported to have said that the work is full of exaggerations.[37] דע לך כי מה שכתוב הרב ר’ שלמה סופר, רבה של בערעגסאס בספרו חוט המשולש על אבא שלי זה מלא הגוזמות. However Rabbi Binyamin Shmuel Hamburger of Bnei Brak, an expert on the Chasam Sofer, writes that today we are able to defend all the statements of R. Shlomo Sofer from other sources, and that it is, indeed a reliable work.[38] This explanation of the Chasam Sofer seems to be based in part on the Ramban, who writes that although the Chashmonaim were great people and without them Klal Yisroel would have been destroyed, in the end they were doomed because they were not supposed to become kings, not being descendants of Yehudah.

זה היה עונש החשמונאים שמלכו בבית שני, כי היו חסידי עליון, ואלמלא הם נשתכחו התורה והמצות מישראל, ואף על פי כן נענשו עונש גדול, כי ארבעת בני חשמונאי הזקן החסידים המולכים זה אחר זה עם כל גבורתם והצלחתם נפלו ביד אויביהם בחרב. והגיע העונש בסוף למה שאמרו רז”ל (ב”ב ג ב) כל מאן דאמר מבית חשמונאי קאתינא עבדא הוא, שנכרתו כלם בעון הזה. ואף על פי שהיה בזרע שמעון עונש מן הצדוקים, אבל כל זרע מתתיה חשמונאי הצדיק לא עברו אלא בעבור זה שמלכו ולא היו מזרע יהודה ומבית דוד, והסירו השבט והמחוקק לגמרי, והיה עונשם מדה כנגד מדה, שהמשיל הקדוש ברוך הוא עליהם את עבדיהם והם הכריתום: ואפשר גם כן שהיה עליהם חטא במלכותם מפני שהיו כהנים ונצטוו (במדבר יח ז) תשמרו את כהונתכם לכל דבר המזבח ולמבית לפרכת ועבדתם עבודת מתנה אתן את כהונתכם, ולא היה להם למלוך רק לעבוד את עבודת ה’ (בראשית מט,י).

It should be noted that not everyone agrees with the Ramban. [i][39] R. Kosman shows[40] that there was some playing around with this piece of the Chasam Sofer. In the first edition it says:

מרגלא בפומי’ כי נס חנוכה לא נזכר כלל במשנה ואמר טעמו כי רבנו הקדוש מסדר המשנה הי’ מזרע דוד המלך ונס חנוכה נעשה על ידי חשמונאים שתפסו המלוכה ולא היה מזרע דוד וזה הרע לרבנו הקדוש ועל כן נשמט הנס מחיבורו

But in the second edition a piece was added to say:

מרגלא בפומי’ כי נס חנוכה לא נזכר כלל במשנה ואמר טעמו כי רבנו הקדוש מסדר המשנה הי’ מזרע דוד המלך ונס חנוכה נעשה על ידי חשמונאים שתפסו המלוכה ולא היה מזרע דוד וזה הרע לרבנו הקדוש ובכתבו המשנה על פי רוח הקודש נשמט הנס מחיבורו

Interestingly enough, the Chasam Sofer in his chiddushim on Gittin explains the Chanukah omission based on the Rambam we mentioned earlier that says that since Chanukah was well-known Rebbe did not include it in the Mishna.[41] Whether or not the Chasam Sofer did say the explanation quoted in the Chut Hameshulash, we have testimony from a reliable source that another gadol said it. The Chasdei Avos cites this explanation from the Chidushei Harim and he ties it to the Ramban mentioned above.[42]

דבשביל שהי’ לבם של בית הנשיא מרה על החשמונאים, שנטלו מהם המלוכה, והוא נגד התורה דלא יסור משבט יהודה, כמו שכתב ברמב”ן ויחי, לכן לא הזכיר רבנו הקדוש דיני חנוכה במשנה.

Rabbi Aryeh Leib Feinstein also offers this explanation on his own and uses it to explain many of the differences between the versions of the miracle of Chanukah found in the Gemara and Megillas Taanis, and to explain who authored the different parts (Aramaic and Hebrew) of Megillas Taanis.[43] Rabbi Avraham Lipshitz says that, based on the answer of the Chasam Sofer, it is possible to answer another famous difficulty raised by many, which is why we don’t mention Chanukah in the beracha of Al Hamichya. Rabb Liphsitz says that in Al Hamichya we mention Zion, which is Ir Dovid. Since the Chashmonaim took away the kingdom at that time from the descendants of Dovid, we do not mention Chanukah in connection to Zion.[44] Another answer suggested by Rav Chanoch Ehrentreu is that the Mishna is composed mostly of various parts from much before Rabbenu Hakodesh, from the time of the Anshei Knesses Hagedolah and onwards, which is before the story of Chanukah took place. When Rebbe began to compose the Mishna there was no place for the halachos of Chanukah, so he did not put them in.[45]With this he answers another problem – we find that the early Tannaim dealt with Chanukah as we see in a beraisa in Shabbos from Ziknei Beis Shammai and Hillel so why isn’t there a Massechtah devoted to Chanukah.

שגוף המשנה על חלקיה העיקריים הוא מעשה אנשי כנסת הגדולה… לאחר ימי אנשי כנסת הגדולה השלימו תנאים במקום שהיה טעון השלמה והוסיפו בשעה שנזקקו להוסיף, וחלקו על פירושה של משנה ראשונה וגם מסרו מחלוקות אלה לדורות. אך המשנה עצמה עתיקה מהלכות חנוכה. לכן ברור שתנאים שנו הלכות בענין חנוכה ונר חנוכה, אך כיון שכבר לא נמצא להם מקום בגוף המשנה נאספו אלה בברייתות

This answer is based on the assumption that there were parts of the Mishna that existed earlier than Rebbe, and that he was just the editor. This topic of when the Mishna was exactly written has been dealt with from the time of the Geonim and onwards and is beyond the scope of this article.[46] However, I would like to make one point that also relates to this and the Chasam Sofer’s answer discussed above. What was Rabbenu Hakodesh’s role in writing the Mishna? Was he an editor that just collected previous material, or did he add anything of his own? Rav Ishtori Haparchi writes in his Kaftor Vaferach that Rebbe never brings something that he does not agree with in the Mishna.

ורבנו הקודש לא יבא לעולם כנגד המשנה שהוא סדרה וחברה

(כפתור ופרח, פרק חמישי)

The Sefer Hakrisus disagrees. He says that Rebbe was mostly an editor. He gathered existing Mishnayos and, together with other Chachomim, chose what to include.[47] מצינו בלשון משנה על רבי הא דידיה הא דרביה… נראה אף על פי שרבי סדר המשניות היו סדורות קודם לכן אלא שסתם הילכתא, וגם על פי עשרים בני תלמידי חכמים זה היה אומר בכה וזה היה אומר בכה והוא בחר את אשר ישר בעיניו אבל המשנה והמסכתא לא זזה ממקומה וסדרה הוא כבראשונה… It would seem that the Chasom Sofer’s answer could only work according to the Kaftor Vaferach and Rabbi Ehrentreu’s answer is only possible according to the Sefer Hakrisus. According to the Sefer Hakrisus, even had Rabbeinu Hakadosh not wanted to include the story of Chanukah for some reason, it was not only his say that was important. This explanation of the Chasam Sofer was the accepted explanation for many years among Jewish historians as to why the Mishna omits the story of Chanukah. For example Zechariah Frankel wrote in his Darchei Ha-Mishnah[48]:

והנה גם מצות חנוכה באה לבד בדרך העברה … ולהדלקת נר חנוכה לא מצינו במשנה אפילו רמז (ועיין ב”ק פ”ו מ”ו). ואפשר שבזמן הבית לא חלקו כ”כ כבוד למצות זאת, כי גם מלכי בית חשמונאי אשר על ידי אבותיהם נעשתה התשועה לישראל, הכבידו עולם על העם ולא נחה דעת החכמים במלוכתם, ומצאו להם די בהזכרתם בתפילה חסדי השם עם עמו, ובמשך הימים כאשר נשכחו הצרות הראשונות תחת המלכים אלה נהגו בנר חנוכה, וגם אז נראה שלא לחובה כ”א למצוה, ונתנו המצוה ביד כל איש ואיש כפי דעתו…

(דרכי המשנה, עמ’ 321).

A while back, Gedaliah Alon wrote a classic article proving that this theory was not true at all. Subsequently, Shmuel Safrai backed this up. They both showed that there is positive mention of the Chashmonaim in many places in halachic literature. Therefore, this explanation does not suffice to explain the omission of Chanukah from the Mishna.[49]

Hidden halachos

The following answers relate to the concept found in the Gemarah numerous times, known as, chisura mechsara, something is missing, when trying to understand a specific statement in the Mishna. The Gemarah says that something is missing and really the Mishna should say this… The question asked by many is how did this happen. Many years ago I heard from one of my High school Rabbyim, Rabbi Lobenstein who heard from his Rebbi, Rav Hutner that this was done on purpose. The whole Heter to write down Torah She Bal Peh was a Horot Sho as Rabbenu Hakodesh saw that it was going to be forgotten. However he did not want all of it to be come accessible to all he wanted to retain a strong part of it to be dependent on Torah She Bal Peh on a mesorah from the past. Therefore he made that certain parts could only be understood based on a transmission from a previous generation. One of the ways he did that was to leave out certain sentences from the Mishna. I later found that Rav Hutner says this concept to explain why there is no special Mishna devoted to the Halchos of Chanukah:

ומקבלת היא נקודה זו תוספת בהירות מתוך עיון בכללי סדור המשנה ובמה שהורונו רבותינו בביאורם. בתוך כללי סידור המשנה נמצא כאלה שאינם נראה כלל כמעשי סידור, כגון אין סדר למשנה, חסורי מיחסרא… וכדומה. והורונו רבותינו בזה כי גם לאחר שהותרה כתיבתה של תורה שבעל פה, ומשום עת לעשות הוכרחו לכתבה או לסדרה לכתיבה, מכל מקום השאירום בשיעור ידוע כדברים שבעל פה גם לאחר שנכתבו, בכדי שגם הכתב יהא נזקק לסיוע של הפה, וסוף סוף לא תעמוד הכתיבה במקומה של הקבלה מפה לאוזן. ודברים הללו הם יסוד גדול בסדר עריכתם של דברי תורה שבעל פה על הכתב… מאורע מועד החנוכה יהא מופקע מתורת כתב, שכן כל עצמו של חידוש מועד החנוכה אינו אלא בנקודה זו של מסירות נפש על עבודת יחוד ישראל בעמים… ופוק חזי דגם במשנה לא נשנו דיני נר חנוכה, ולא נזכר נר חנוכה כי אם אגב גררא דענינים אחרים, והיינו כמו שהורונ רבותינו דגם לאחר שנכתבה המשנה עדיין השאירו בה מקום לצורת תורה שבעל פה על ידי החיסורי מיחסרא וכדומה, ובנר חנוכה בא הוא הענין הזה לידי השמטה גמורה, מפני שאורו של נר חנוכה הוא הוא האור שניתגלה על ידי מסירת נפש על אורות מניעת כתיבתם של דברים שבעל פה. בכדי שעל ידי זה תסתלק יון מלהחשיך עיניהם של ישראל על ידי תרגום דברים שבעל פה, כדרך שהחשיכה עיניהם של ישראל בתרגומם של דברים שבכתב

(פחד יצחק, עמ’ כח-כט).

A little different explanation of the concept of chisura mechsara without tying into Chanukah can be found in the incredible work from the Chavos Yair called Mar Keshisha where he writes as follows:

ובזה מצאנו טעם חכמי משנה שדברו דבריהם בקיצור נמרץ ובדרך זר ורחוק מתכלית הבנתו והמבוקש, וטעם שניהם להרגיל התלמידים בהתבוננות וחידוד, שיבינו דברים ששמעו אף כשהם עמוקים ועלומים, ומתוך כך יוסיפו מדעתם, ויבינו עוד דבר מתוך דבר… ובזה יישבנו גם כן מה שלפעמים דקדקנו בלשון התנא בסידור דבריו ובחיסור ויתור אות אחת… ולפעמים אמרינן חסורא מחסרא במשנה… והכל הוא להלהיב הלבבות ולחדדם ע”י שיעמיקו וידקדקו בלשון התנא, ולפעמים ליישב הדין והמבוקש… (מר קשישא, עמ’ כח-כט; שם, עמ’ נו).

The Rashash says:

ונראה דלפי שהיתר כתיבת המשנה לא היה רק משום עת לעשות וגו’ לכן לא באו בה רק עקרי הדינים בלבד בלי ביאור הטעמים, וכן לא בארה במחלקות הנמצאים בה טענות כל אחד מהצדדים ופעמים לא בארה גם עיקר הדין בשלמותו… וכן חסורי מחסרא והכי קתני, כי לא באה רק שעל ידה יזכרו לגרוס הענינים בשלימותם כפי הקבלה בעל פה, ולזאת תמצא ג”כ רבות שלשון המשנה איננו סובל את הענין כפי ישוב הגמ’ בה רק בדרך רחוק ודחוק, הכי רבינו לא היה יכול לדבר צחות ולבחור לשון ערומים.. שפעמים לא ביאר את הענין בדרך רמז… ויתכן לומר דלכן קראו לאיזו מהם מגילת סתרים

(נתיבות עולם,דף קי”א, ע”א).

Another answer to the mystery of the Chanukah omission is from Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel as I will explain this too has to do with the concept of chisura mechsara. There is a famous concept of various Rishonim and Achronim. Many times, the Gemara uses the phrase chisura mechsara, something is missing, when trying to understand a Mishna. Some Rishonim say that there is nothing actually missing in the Mishna. What appears to be missing is really there, but the naked eye cannot see it. That is what the Gemara means when it says something is missing and then adds the missing text. Just to list some sources for this concept: Rabbenu Bechayh writes:

ורבינו הקדוש שחבר המשנה ולמד אותם ברבים וכתבוה הכל בימיו, כונתו היתה כדי שלא תשכח תורה מישראל שראה הרשעה מתפשטת בעולם וישראל מתפזרין בגלות, על כן הותר לו לעשות כן משום שנאמר:

(תהלים קיט, קכו)

“עת לעשות לה’ הפרו תורתך”, וכתב וחבר המשנה שהיא תורה שבעל פה, ועל כן קראה “משנה” לפי שהיא שניה לתורה שבכתב ורובה לשון הקדש צח כתורה שבכתב… ואחרי כן נתמעטה החכמה וקצרו הלבבות ועמדו רבינא ורב אשי וחברו התלמוד שהוא פירוש המשנה, כי לרוב חכמת רבינו הקדוש וחכמת בני דורו היה פירוש התורה אצלם מבורר ופשוט מתוך המשנה, ואצל דורות רבינא ורב אשי היה עמוק וסתום מאד, ומזה אמרו בתלמוד על המשנה:

(ברכות יג ב)

חסורי מחסרא והכי קתני, שאין הכוונה להיות המשנה חסרה כלל חלילה, אבל הכוונה שהיא חסרה אצלנו מפני חסרון שכלנו מפני שאין אנו מגיעים לעומק חכמת דור של חכמי המשנה…

(רבנו בחיי, כי תשא, לד:כז).

Reb Avrhom Ben HaGra writes:

ומ”ש לפעמים חסורי מחסרא והכי קתני, שמעתי מא”א הגאון החסיד המפורסם נר”ו שאין במשנת רבי שום חסרון בלישנא ומה שהוסיפו הוא מובן בזך הלשון של רבינו הקדוש ז”ל, אפס כדי להסביר לעיני המון הרואים בהשקפה ראשונה לפיהם צריך להסביר יותר, והמעיין בדבריו יראה שהוא כלול בדבריו ביתרון אות אחת, ואחוה לך אחד לדוגמא… (רב פעלים, עמ’ 107).

Reb Yisroel Shklover also writes about the Gra: והיה יודע כל חסורי מחסרא שבתלמוד בשיטותיו דלא חסרה כלל בסדר שסידר רבינו הקודש המתני’

(פאת השלחן, הקדמה).

Rabbi Gedaliah Nadel says that most of Hilchos Chanukah can be found in the Mishna. The Mishna in Bava Kamma (62b) says that if a camel was walking in the public domain with flax, and the flax caught fire from a fire that was in a shop and did damage, the owner of the camel has to pay the damages. However, if the storekeeper’s fire was out in the public domain, then the storekeeper has to pay damages. Reb Yehudah says that if the fire was from neiros of Chanukah, then the storekeeper is not obligated to pay. From here, says Rabbi Nadel, we can learn the basic halachos of Chanukah: the neiros have to be lit outside, over ten tefachim and when people are passing by. The halachos of Hallel and Krias Hatorah are found in other places in the Mishna. The rest of the halachos are side issues.[50]

ולפי זה יש ליישב דענין נס חנוכה ומצות נרות וואדי היה מפורסם לחיוב ולא היה צריך להקדמה כלל, ואף דמ”מ היה צורך להכניס יסוד הדינים במשנה מ”מ לזה סגי לפרש הדברים בדרך רמז במשנה דב”ק. דאם נדקדק בדברי המשנה שם נמצא כל עיקר דין נר חנוכה דילפינן מינה דאיכא חיוב להניח הנר בחוץ ובתוך עשרה טפחים ושיהא בזמן שעוברים בשוק, ורק אנינים צדדים כמו מהדרין וכו’ לא חשש להזכיר. ודין דמדליקין מנר לנר וכו’ איכא למילף מדיני בזוי מצוה. ויתר הלכות חנוכה הוזכר אגב אורחא כל אחד במקומו, וכגון חיוב הלל גבי קרבן עצים (תענית פ”ד מ”ה). וחיוב קריאת התורה גבי דיני קרה”ת (מגילה פ”ג מ”ד ומ”ו), ודין אמירת על הנסים לא נזכר כמו שאר נוסחי תפלות שלא הוזכרו מפני שהיו ידועים ומוסרים

(ליקוט מתוך שעורי ר’ גדלי’, עמ’ מ).

I would like to suggest [51] that this answer is similar to the famous concept of various Rishonim and Achronim [52] mentioned above, nothing actually missing in the Mishna. What appears to be missing is really there, but the naked eye cannot see it. Similarly here, Chanukah is in the Mishna, but it’s not clear to the regular person. As Rav Nadel shows, the basic laws of Chanukah are hidden in the Mishna in Bava Kamma. The Chanukas Habayis, first printed in 1641, is a special work devoted to the halachos of Chanukah. This work explains how all of the halachos of Chanukah are found in a piece of Masseches Soferim—in Haneiros Hallalu.[53] Masseches Soferim, although it was composed at a late date, is really based on an earlier work from the time of Chazal. In other words, it contains halachos which date back to early times.[54] I would like to suggest that perhaps this piece was much earlier—from the times before Rabbenu Hakodesh composed the Mishna. And because it had hidden in it all of the laws of Chanukah, this could be another reason why Chanukah was not included in the Mishna, as there existed a halacha that had in it hidden all of the laws of Chanukah—Haneiros Hallalu.

A famous controversy

This whole issue of the Chanukah omission was a small part of a famous debate. In 1891, Chaim Selig Slonimski wrote a short article in Hazefirah (issue #278) questioning why there is no mention in Sefer Hashmonaim and Josephus of the miracle of the oil lasting eight days. Furthermore, he questioned why the Rambam omits the miracle of the oil when detailing the miracles of Chanukah. He contended that the answer is that a miracle did not actually occur, but the Kohanim created that impression to raise the spirits of the people. As can be expected, this article generated many responses in the various papers and journals of the time and even a few sefarim were written devoted to this topic. A little later, while defending his original article, Slonimski wrote that we do not find the halachos of Chanukah mentioned in the Mishna, only in the Gemara. Rabbi Ginsberg, in his work Emunas Chachimim, pointed out that the halachos are mentioned in Baba Kama.[55] Rabbi Lipshitz in his work Derech Emunah, written to deal with this whole issue, defended this omission based on Chanukah’s mention in Megillas Taanis, as mentioned above. Rabbi Y. Sapir also wrote such a defense.[56]

Appendix one: Megilat Taanis and Chanukah

Earlier I quoted some that some say that the reason why Rebbe did not have a whole masechta about Chanukah was because there was one already: Megillas Taanis! I would like to elaborate on what I wrote earlier and clarify a bit more on the work Megillas Taanis, especially its relationship to Chanukah. Megillas Taanis is our earliest written halachic text, dating from much before our Mishnayos. In the standard Megillas Taanis, there are two parts: one written in Aramaic, which is a list of various days which one should not fast or say hespedim on. This part is only four hundred and seventy words long. The other part was written in Hebrew and includes a lengthier description of each particular day. The longest entry in the latter part is about Chanukah. It contains reasons for the Yom Tov and some of the halachos. A few Achronim already used the MT for Chanukah to show that the famous Bais Yosef’s Kasha of why is Chanukah eight days has been asked by the author of the MT. [58] It would appear that the Bais Yosef did not have a copy of the MT.[59] Be that as it may when one compares the passages about Chanukah in the MT to the Bavli one will find some similarities and many differences. The question is which work influenced which, did the MT influence the bavli or vice versa. The Netziv writes: ת”ר נר חנוכה מצוה כו’ עיקרן של ברייתות אלו המה במגילת תעניות פ”ט, והוסיף שם ואם מתייראין מן הלצים מנחיה על פתח בית (מרומי שדה, שבת דף כא ע”ב). The Chida writes that the Bavli was aware of the MT: מאי חנוכה… דלא על עצם חנוכה שואל, דהרי המשנה סמכה על מגילת תעניות (חדרי בטן, עמ’ צז). There is an interesting little-known correspondence on this topic between the Aderes and R. Yaakov Kahana (Shut Toldos Yakov, Siman 29) about the topic of a Mesechet Chanukah and Megillat Tannis. Rav Kahana was bothered why the Bavli left out most of the MT from its discussion in regard to Chanukah.

וצ”ע מ”ה השמיטו הבעל הש”ס דידן האי בבא ממג”ת הלא דבר הוא… וקצ”ע על בעל הש”ס ירושלמי שלא הביאו האי עובדא דחנוכה המוזכר במג”ת פ”ט המובא בשבת כ”א ב’ וגם פלוגתת ב”ש וב”ה בנרות לא מוזכר שם.

The Aderes responded to R. Kahana: ומה שתמה על הש”ס למה לא הביאו האי בבא דמגילת תענית גם אנכי הערתי בזה ומצאתי תמי’ זו בהגהת הרצ”ה חיות ז”ל ובימי עולמו כתבתי מזה בס”ד ולא אדע אנה. ואשר התפלא מדוע לא נמצא הא דחנוכה בירושלמי באמת גם במשנה לא נמצא אולם בסוף פ”ו דב”ק שם נמצא וגם מעט בירושלמי בשלהי תרומות. ואנכי מתפלא מאד דגם מצות כתיבת ספר תורה לא נמצא במשנה…

R. Kahana wrote a lengthy response. He explained that it does not bother him that the Mishana does not mention this story of Chanukah from MT as the Bavli does not mention any of the incidences in MT. He is more bothered by the omission of the Yerushalmi of this story as found in the MT, as the Yerushlmi does mention other incidences of MT.[59] As to writing a sefer Torah not being mentioned in the Mishna R. Kahana gives a lengthy list of all the Mitzvos that are not discussed in the Mishna (and the list is long). Rabbi Lifshitz writes:

העתקתי כל דברי המגלת תענית כי יש ללמוד ממנו הרבה, האחד כי כל הברייתות המובאות בגמרא אינם ברייתות מאוחרות ודברי אגדה.. רק כולם המה לקוחים מהמג”ת הקדומה הרבה… דרך אמונה, עמ’ 17). Rav Zevin writes: הברייתא של מאי חנוכה שמקורה במגלת תענית והובאה בבלי… (המועדים בהלכה, עמ’ קפז).

We see from all these Achronim that it was obvious to them that the Bavli was written well after the MT. The question is when, was the MT written. Rav Yaakov Emden writes (in his introduction to his notes on Megillas Taanis) that it was completed at the end of the era of the Tannaim. The Chida writes it was written before the Mishna.[60] Earlier I mentioned that while Megillas Taanis dates from before our Mishnayos, it contains significant additions from a later time. Maharatz Chayes and Radal say that the Aramaic part was written very early, at the point when it was not permissible to write down Torah Sheba’al Peh. At a later point, when it was permitted, the Hebrew parts were added. Maharatz Chayes says that it was after the era of Rabbenu Hakodesh. But was it written before the Bavli or after? The Maharatz Chayes concludes that the Bavli did not have the same version of Chanukah as the MT as MT that part of MT was written later. The Maharatz Chayes observes that whenever the Bavli quotes the MT and it uses the words De-khesiv it is referring to the early part written in Aramaic when it says De-tanyah it is referring to the later part.[61] To answer this a bit of background is needed; MT as we have it was first printed in Mantua in 1514. Over the years various editions were printed some with Perushim on them. In 1895 Adolf Neubauer printed a version based on the manuscripts. In 1932 Hans Lichtenstein printed a better version based on the manuscripts.[62] S. Z. Leiman has already noted[63] that this work is to be used with great discretion. As late as 1990, Yakov Zussman noted in his classic article on Halacha and the Dea Sea Scrolls that a proper critical edition was still needed.[64] A little later a student of his, Vered Noam, began working on such a project and in 2003 a beautiful edition of this work was released by the Ben Tzvi publishing house.[65] Over the years Noam has written many articles about her finds unfortunately not all of these important articles are included in this final work printed in 2003.[66] Amongst the points discovered by Noam was that the scholion[67] part (as it was coined by Graetz) exists in two different manuscripts (besides for other fragments) and that each one of these versions are very different and include different things. At a later point these two independent works were combined into a hybrid version which is the basis of our printed text today. The hybrid version included both of the earlier versions and even added things not found in either version of the scholion. In her work, Noam deals with trying to identify when all this was done.[68] One of the key questions in her work is did the scholion have the Bavli or vica versa. She demonstrates that it is not a simple issue and each piece of MT has to be dealt with accordingly to compare the versions and the like. As far as Chanukah is concerned she concludes that most of the parts from the MT are from other sources but parts are from the Bavli but these parts from the bavli that are found in the scholion versions are from a later time. [69] Shamma Friedman argues on Noam’s conclusions in regard to Chanukah; he has many indications to show that as far as Chanukah is concerned the scholion was influenced by the Bavli.[70] One of indications for Friedman was that in one of the two additions of the scholion it says כדאיתא בבמה מדליקין! To clarify this point, in one version of the scholion it says: מצות נר חנוכה נר אחד לכל בית והמהדרין נר אחד לכל נפש והמהדרין מן המהדרין וכו’ כדאיתא בבמה מדליקין. However this passage does not appear at all in the other manuscript of the scholion but it does appear in the Hybrid version with changes. In the Hybrid version it says as follows:

מצות חנוכה נר איש וביתו והמהדרין נר לכל נפש ונפש והמהדרין מן המהדרין בית שמאי אומרים יום ראשון מדליק שמנה מכאן ואילך פוחת והולך ובית הלל אומרים יום ראשון מדליק אחד מכאן ואילך מוסיף והולך. שני זקנים היו בצידן אחד עשה כדברי בית שמאי ואחד כדברי בית הלל זה נותן טעם לדבריו וזה נותן טעם לדבריו זה אומר כפרי החג וזה אומר מעלין בקדש ואין מורידין. מצות הדלקתה משתשקע החמה ועד שתכלה רגל מן השוק ומצוה להניחה על פתח ביתו מבחוץ ואם היה דר בעליה מניחה בחלון הסמוך לרשות הרבים. ואם מתירא מן הגויים מניחה על פתח ביתו מבפנים ובשעת הסכנה מניחה על שלחנו ודיו.

As an aside over here we can see the differences between each version of the manuscripts of the scholion versions one has it in one line one does not have the passage at all and one has a very lengthy version of the passage. Now these words כדאיתא במה מדליקין are not the only factor for Friedman to reach his conclusions in regard to the sources of this passage of the scholion version of MT. He has many other points but just to list one more of them. Friedman has a whole discussion about the origins of the word “Mehadrin.” Louis Ginzburg noted that:

הברייתא שם, מצות חנוכה… והמהדרין וכו’ נראה שהיא בבלית שאין לשון מהדרין לשון חכמי המשנה שבארץ ישראל

(פירושים וחידושים, א, ברכות, עמ’ 279).

Friedman has an article with various proofs to show that this is true.[71] If this is so the fact that MT uses the word Mehadrin would be another indicator that at least in this case the MT was influenced by the Bavli. According to all this it would be impossible to answer that the reason why Rabbenu Hakodesh did not write a Mascetah about Chanukah was because he was relying on MT. As discussed here this part of the MT was written long after the Mishna and possibly even after the Bavli! I would like to conclude this section with some words about the Oz Ve-hador edition of Megilat Taanis. In 2007, the Oz Vehador publishing house released a new edition of Megilat Taanis. A few years back I wrote on the Seforim Blog about some of their censorships in regard to this work. Today I would like to turn to some other issues with this particular edition. In the introduction of this work they explain that one of the benefits of this work is that they used manuscripts and on the side of each page they indicate various differences based on the manuscripts. They write that they only include the differences that are important. They then include a nice long list of all the pieces of manuscripts and Genizah fragments that they used for this work. Ten such items were consulted and used they even give abbreviations for each one of the items in the list. The problem is as follows all this is plagiarized straight from Vered Noam’s edition of the MT printed in 2003. They copied her list and order, word for word, without bothering to even try to cover up their tracks. The reason this is obvious is that Noam made up abbreviations for each of the works, as is common in all critical editions to make it easier when quoting them. Now for whatever reason she decided to choose these abbreviations, for each one of the works Oz Ve-Hador happened to pick the exact same abbreviation. For example, for one genizah fragment she labeled, Gimel Peh and for another one she labeled it Gimel Aleph. Oz Ve-Hador did the same. Now what is interesting is Noam uses all these pieces in her work, as a quick look at her apparatus will show. Oz Ve-Hador only substantially quotes two manuscripts throughout their whole work, the Oxford MS and the Parma MS. They never use any Genizah fragments so why do they even mention them with abbreviations in their introduction? If that is the case, why did they bother to even copy this whole list from her, if they did not even bother to look at any other of the manuscripts or quote them? Why in the world are the abbreviations needed in the first place? The only reason why she has abbreviations is to make the usage of her scientific apparatus user friendly, something which Oz Ve-Hador does not even attempt to do. This would indicate that the person who copied the list did not even have a clue to what it was that he was copying. One other point is that almost all the changes seem to be a minor correction or spelling mistake. When one compares this to the apparatus in Noam’s addition this is absurd. What in the world was their basis for making corrections in the work, only correcting these few things when there are many, many things to correct or at least point out to the reader? Now a careful examination of the MT from Oz Ve-Hador will leave one wondering what exactly they did as far as using manuscripts are concerned. In the Chanukah piece of MT which there are many differences and pieces in each version they were able to come up with three differences! For example the important words כדאיתא בבמה מדלקין or that this whole long piece about Mehadrin etc. does not appear in one version of MT at all, and as explained earlier both of these issues are important. This would indicate to me even more, the person or persons involved in this part of their edition had no real clue to what he was doing, he chose some differences from the manuscripts and that was it. I would even go so far as to say that they did not bother to look at any of the actual manuscripts but rather just used Noam’s work and took a few differences from the two key manuscripts and put them in their work. However I do not have the patience to prove that so it will just remain a strong hunch for now. In short we have yet again another work of Oz Ve-Hador which shows how good and accurate they are in dealing with manuscripts.[72] Another small point of interest to me was that the Oz Ve-Hador edition was careful to never call the Hebrew part of MT the “scholion,” as that was a word coined by Maskilim. One last small point of interest to me in about the Oz Ve-Hador was that they seem to have no problem with the Maharatz Chayes as they quote his piece on the MT word for word with proper attribution. It would seem they argue (as do I) with Rebbetzin Bruriah David who concluded that the Maharatz Chayes was a Maskil.

[1] Chanukah is mentioned a few times in Mishnayos but the issue here is why there isn’t a whole mesechta devoted to it. See Machanayim 34:81-86 [See Tiferes Yeruchem pp. 60, 414]. As an aside, in the Zohar there is also no mention of Chanukah. See Tiferes Zvi (3:397,465) and Rabbi Yaakov Chaim Sofer in Beis Aharon ve-Yisroel (18:2, p. 110) and his Menuchos Shelomo (11: 43). [2] For chassidus sources: see Bnei Yissaschar , Ohev Yisroel and Moadim le-Simcha p. 38. For machshava sources see: R. Teichtal, Mishnat Sachir, Moadim, pp. 411-417; Sifsei Chaim (2:131); Pachad Yitzchak (pp. 29-32); Alei Tamar (Megilah p. 87); Rav Munk, Shut Pas Sadecha, (introduction, p. 7). As to kabbalah, the Yad Neman writes (p. 2b) that when he met Rabbi Dovid Pardo, author of the classic work on Tosefta, Chasdei Dovid, he told him a reason based on kabbalah. As to why the Sugyah of Chanukah in the Bavli is in Messechtas Shabbas, see Rabbi Shmuel Auerbach, Ohel Rochel, p.82, 113; N. Amenach, Sidra 14 (1998), pp. 59-76. For general sources on this topic see Rav Moshe Tzvi Neriyah, Shana Be-shanah 1988, pp. 159-68. It was then included in his Tznif Melucha pp. 177- 182 and then later translated into English in the journal Jewish Thought, Spring 5753, 2:2, pp.23-35. Rabbi Yona Metzger brings most of this piece in his Mayim Halacha (siman 111). (Thanks to my friend Yisroel Tzvi Ickovitz for bringing this and the Shana Be-shanah piece to my attention.) Rav Freund in Moadim Lisimcha relied heavily on this article of Rabbi Neriyah as he drops a few hints in middle of his piece on this topic such as on (p. 34 n.74), but of course without mentioning Rav Moshe Neriyah name as he was a Zionist. The Hebrew Kulmos of Mishpacha magazine, issue 19 (2005), p. 22-23 has a small article on this topic from R. Rosenthal which was then included and updated in his Kemotzo Shalal Rav. He definitely did not use Rav Neriyah article as he has a very small amount of sources on the topic. This year in the latest Hebrew Kulmos, issue 107 (2012), R. Kosman revisited this topic. His article is a rewritten version of Rav Neriyah article on the topic. He also buries the source of Rav Neriyah in one of the last footnotes of his article and does not really add anything to the story as Rav Neriyah presents it. I will mention one nice new point which he adds to this topic. There are also three very important, excellent articles related to this topic from M. Benovitz, See: Tarbitz, 74 (2005), pp. 5-20; Zion, 68 (2003), pp. 5-40; Torah Lishma, 2007, pp. 39-78. I have not included much of the important information found in these articles related to this topic. See also Y. Yerushalmi, Zakor, pp. 24-26. [3] This piece is not found in the regular editions of the Maggid Mesharim but only in one manuscript printed in Tzefunot, 6 (1990), p. 86. He writes: ומסכת מגילה גם כן נאמרה בסיני, כי הראה הקב”ה למשל דור ודור… וענין חנוכה אף על פי שהראהו הקב”ה בסיני, לא ניתן ליסדה בכלל המשנה, לפי שהיה אחר שנחתם חזון. I would like to thank Professor Shnayer Z. Leiman for bringing this important source to my attention. On this work in general see my Likutei Eliezer, pp. 90-118. [4] Although it has been pointed out that many rishonim and even the Megillas Taanis deals with this issue, it’s still called the Bais Yosef’s kasha. [5] Rambam, Perush Hamishna, Menochos 4. See also Melchemes Hashem, (Margolis ed.) p. 82. Regarding the Rambam’s comments in general, see Rabbi Reuven Margolis in Yesod Hamishna Vearichasa (pp. 22-23) who raises some issues with it. He shows that there are many sources that Jews were negligent in Tefilin so how can the Rambam say that there was no need to record the Halachos as they were well known. See my Bein Kesseh Lassur, p. 230. For additional sources on this Rambam see. Y. Brill. Movo Ha-Mishna, pp. 110-112, 156; Z. Frankel, Darchei Ha-mishna, p. 321. [6] The earliest source who gives this answer is Rav Chaim Abraham Miridna, Yad Neman, Solonika, 1804, p. 2b. Subsequently, many others give this answer on their own, such as the Maharatz Chayes (Toras Haneviyim p. 105), Rav Yaakov Reifmann (Knesses Hagedolah (3:90)), Pirish ha-Eshel on Megillas Taanis (p. 58b), Beis Naftoli son (#28), Yad Yitchach (#295) Rav Hershovitz in Minhagei Yeshurun (p. 48) Dorot Harishonim (4:46a) [see also Rav Eliyahu Schlesinger in Moriah (25:123) and in his Ner Ish Ubeso pp. 338-339]. [7] Michtivei Chofetz Chaim, p. 27. [8] Kol Kisvei Maharatz Chayes, vol. 1, pp.105-106. [9] Rav Y. Shor, Mishnas Ya’akov Jerusalem 1990, pp. 33-34. [10] Rav U’Pealyim, Intro, 8a. He also brings this down in his introduction to his edition of Midrash Agadah Bereishis. See also Yeshurun 4:228. On this work see here and Yeshurun, 24:447; Yeshurun, 25: 679-680. [11] See Heiger in his introduction to Masechtos Ketanos p. 6; M. Lerner in The Literature of the Sages, volume I, pp. 400-403; and Rav Brody, The Geonim of Babylonia and the Shaping of Medieval Jewish Culture, 1998, p. 109. [12] Sharei Teshuvah, siman 143; Radal notes to Midrash Rabbah Emor (22:1). See Rav Nachman Greenspan, Pilpulah Shel Torah p. 60 and his Maleches Machsheves p. 6. See also the Radal’s comments in Kadmus Hazohar at the end of section two; Rav Dovid Hoffman, Mishna ha-Rishona, pp.12-14;Yesod Hamishna ve-Arechsa p. 29 (and nt. 15) and 17. [13] See his introduction to his work on Avos, Bais Avos. [14] The earliest source who says this is Rav Yosef Hayyim ben Siman, Edos Beyosef, Livorno, 1800 (2:15). The Chida quotes this explanation in the collection of derashos entitled Devarim Achadim (derush 32). See also his Chedrei Beten, p. 97. Rabbi Lipshitz in Derech Emunah p. 24 also provides this explanation. See also Aishel Avraham in his introduction to his work on Megillas Taanis. [15] Pirush ha-Eshel p. 58, see also his introduction to MT. The piece on pg 58 is not found in the new Oz Vehadar edition as the Pirish Haeshel was printed only partially see this post. See what I wrote in Yeshurun, 25:456. [16] Behag, 3:335. On this statement see V. Noam, Migilat Tannis, pp. 383-385. [17] Rabbi M. Grossburg, Megilat Tannis, p. 26. [18] Mahritz Chayes, vol. 1, pp. 153-54; Radal, Kadmus Hazohar, p. 269. [19] Haples 1:182. On the authorship of the MT and Tosfoes, see: Chesehk Shlomo, RH. 19a; Shut Reishis Bikurim, p. 94; Sharei Toras Bavel, p. 60. [20] For more on all this see the Appendix. Rav Neriyha (above, note two), tries to answer how this answer can work out with the assumption that it was written at two different times but what he says is incorrect. [21] This is a brief explanation of the topic of Migilat Tannis. Here is a list of some of the sources on the time period of the Megillas Taanis and the two versions (and the nature of the work in general): see Y. Tabori, Moadei Yisroel Betekufos Hamishna Vehatalmud, pp. 307-22; Yesod Hamishna ve-Arechsa, p. 12 & n.26, p. 20 ; Rav N. D. Rabanowitz, Beno Shnos Dor Vedor, pp. 28-46; See also the nice introduction to the Oz Vehadar edition of Megillas Taanis; M. Bar Ilan, Sinai 98 (1986) pp. 114-37. See also the important points in Yechusei Tanaim ve-Amorim (Maimon edition) pp. 398-399. [22] Torah Shleimah 3:156a. See also his Shut Rashban, Siman 258 .On the statement of the Be-hag see V. Noam, Megilat Taanis, pp. 383-385. [23] On these works See Radal in his introduction to Pirkei De Reb Eliezer; Iyunim B’divrei Chazal Ubileshonam, p. 116; Binu Shnos Dor Vedor, pp. 121-150; N. Fried in Minhaghei Yisroel, vol. 5, pp. 102-20; Areshet vol.4 p. 166; Y. Tabori, Moadei Yisroel Betekufos Hamishna Vehatalmud, p. 390; Moadim le-Simcha p. 253-265, and Hasmonai U-Banav p. 2, On this Megilah in general see R. M. Strashun, Mivchar Kesavim p. 144; R. M. Leiter, Mamlechet Kohanim pp. 40-159. [24]The manuscript was printed in Areshet, 3:182-191. See also I. Davidson in Parody in Jewish Literature pg 39. One of the things we see from this parody is the widespread custom of playing cards on Chanukah. Another similar parody which also has in it a Masechta Chanukah was printed in New York in 1909 and was called Talmud Yankee. [25] Edos Beyosef (2:15) based on Yerushalmi, Succah 5:1. See Y. Tabori, Moadei Yisroel be-Tekufat ha-Mishna ve-HaTalmud, p. 373 [26] Rabbi Y. Buczvah in Shut Beis Halachmei (#4) does not like this answer as than other yom tovim also should not be included. Regarding this Yerushalmi, see: Yesod Hamishna ve-Arechsa p.22 nt.5; Ali Tamar, Sukkah p. 152; Tzit Eliezer, 19:26. [27] Eglei Tal pp.17-18. [28] Yesod Hamishna ve-Arechsa pp. 21-22. See also Rav Freidman in Machanayim 16:12 and Rav M. Cohen in Machanayim 37:43. [29] Nodeh Besharyim, 110b. [30] Toras Hagon Rebbi Alexander Moshe, p. 256. [31] Halechot Shlomo (p. 306 n.42). See also Shalmei Moed p. 254. [32]This answer is brought by R. Yakov Reiffmann in Knesses Hagedolah (3:90) where he brings that R. Alexander Moshe Lapidos wrote this answer to him. This is historically interesting as it shows that there was a connection between the two even though he was a known maskil (for more on R. Yakov Reiffmann ties with Litvish Gedoilm see here ). As an aside this piece of R. Alexander Moshe Lapidos is omitted from the otherwise excellent, recently printed, collection of all of R. Alexander Moshe Lapidos Torah in Torat Hagoan Reb Alexander Moshe. A similar idea to this is found in Tifres Zvi (3:465). [33] Chut Hameshulsesh, p. 50a. Others bring this answer without saying a source see Shut Beis Naftoli (# 28); Machanyim issue # 17:11. [34] See Mishmar Halevi (Chagigah #46-47); Or Torah (1991) p. 156); Zikhronos u-Mesoros Al ha-Chasam Sofer pp. 13-14; Otzros ha-Sofer (10:96); Hasmonai u-Banov pp. 111-112. [35] Shana Be-shanah 1988 (pp. 159-68, See above note 2. It seems that Rav Neriah was not aware that it was in the Chut ha-Meshulash as he cites only to the Ta’emi ha-Minhagaim (p. 365). [36] Shut MaHaryitz (#78). [37] Me-pehem, p. 171. [38] Rav B. Hamburger in his introduction to his Zikhronos u-Mesoros Al ha-Chasam Sofer, pp. 13-14. [39] Bereshis 49:10. For some sources see Yad Neman (p. 2b); Tzitz Eliezer (19:26), Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky, Emes le-Yaakov pp. 239-40, 271-73 and Chasmonai U-Banav pp.106-113. [40] Kulmos, above note two, p. 13. [41] Chasam Sofer, Chidushim on Gittin,78a. Some want (some of the sources at the end of note two above such as R. Neriyah and R. Kosman) to use this as proof that the Chasam Sofer could not have have said what the Chut ha-Meshulash brings in his name. I think this is a weak issue as the Chasam Sofer could have given different answers at different times. [42] Chasdei Avos (#17). In general on this passage from the Chasdei Avos see Benu Shneos Dor Vedor pg 52-71. [43] Kuntres Aleph Hamagen, pp. 69-72. [44] Yalkut Avrhom, p. 203. For more sources on this topic see Rabbi Reven Margolis, Hagadah Shel Pessach, Ber Miriam, 2002, p. 109; Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, Shut Yabbia Omer, 3:36. [45] Iyunim B’divrei Chazal Ubileshonam, p. 117. [46] This explanation and this whole issue in general gets involved with the famous discussion of what was Rebbe’s role in the writing of the Mishna. Just to list a few basic sources on the topic see: Rav Dovid Hoffman, Mishnah ha-Rishonah; Y.N. Epstein, Movo le-Nussach ha-Mishnah, 2: 692-706; C. Elback, Movo le-Mishna, pp. 99-116; Rav Margolis, Yesod Hamishna ve-Arechsa pp.59-64. Y. Sussman, Mechkarei Talmud, 3, pp. 209-384. See also the excellent doctorate of C. Gafni, The Emergence of Critical Scholarship on Rabbinic Literature in the Nineteenth-Century:Social and Ideological Contexts, pp. 41-111. See also this nice new book on this topic. A. Yoreb, Ha-Shelsheles Mish Lesefer. [47] Sefer Hakriesus, Part 5, Section 2:58. I just mention this issue here briefly for more on this see the important comments of Rabbi Yeruchem Fischel Perlow to the Kaftor Vaferach, pp. 141b- 114b. [48] On Using FrankeI’s work see my Likutei Eliezer, p. 35. I hope to return to the issue of using Frankel’s work shortly but for now see the interesting letter of the Sredei Eish who writes: כבר כתבתי לו כי אני מחוסר ספרים לגמרי… וכן ספרים במקצוע חכמת ישראל, כמו… דרכי המשנה… (יד יוסף, עמ’ תסב-תסג). [49] G. Alon, Mechkarim Betoldos Yisroel, 1:15-25; S. Safrai, Machanyim issue # 37 p. 51-58; M. Cohen, Machanyim issue #37 p. 43; Ben Zion Luria, in his introduction to his edition of Megillas Taanis p.20-32. See also Y. Tabori, Moedei Yisroel Betekufos Hamishna Vehatalmud, pp.372-373; Y. Gafni,Yemei Beis Chashmonyim, pp. 261-276. [50] Likut Me-toch Shiurei Reb Gedaliah, 2003, p. 40. On this work see Y. Shilat, Betoraso Shel Rav Gedaliah, p. 9. [51] Rabbi Nadel connects his answer to the Rambam mentioned in the beginning. The connection to the topic of chisura mechsara is mine. [52] Z. Frankel, Darchei Ha-mishna, p.295; Y.N. Epstein, Movo le-Nussach ha-Mishnah,1, pp. 595-598. [53] Chanukhas Habayis, p.21. [54] See Radal, Kadmus Hazohar, beginning of section three; Rav Dovid Zvi Rothstein, Sefer Torah Menukod, in Kovetz Ohel Sarah Leah, 1999, pp.773 and onwards; Higger, introduction to Masechtos Ketanos; M. Lerner in The Literature of the Sages, volume one pp. 396-403; Rav Brody, The Geonim of Babylonia and the Shaping of Medieval Jewish Culture, 1998, p. 112. [55] pp. 4a-4b. [56] Nes Pach Shel Shemen, p. 30.This controversy generated much discussion. See the article in Sinai, 100:202-09. Amongst those who responded about this was Rav Alexander Moshe Lapidos printed in Torat Hagoan Reb Alexander Moshe p. 456-58. A very sharp response against Slonimski was written by Rav Yaakov Reiffmann, printed from manuscript by M. Hershkowitz in Or Hamizrach (18:93-101). Hershkowitz wrote a bibliography on the topic which, unfortunately the editors Or Hamizrach did not include and, to the best of my knowledge, was never printed. I am currently working on an article collecting all the material on this controversy. A response (from manuscript) on the topic from the Aderes was printed where he wrote to his friend R. Reiffmann after seeing Reifmann’s response here הנני למלא רצונו להגיד לו דעתי על מאמרו הערות בעניני חנוכה, כי כל דבריו כנים ונאמנו בדבר הזה הייתי בר מזלי’, וחלילה לעלות על הדעת כי הרמב”ם לא האמין כלל בגוף נס השמן, וראיותיו צודקות ונאמנות, והחושב על הכהנים מחשבת פיגול במומו פוסל, כפי שידענו מן התורה נביאים וכתובים היו הכהנים העומדים בראש כל ישראל ומהם יצאה תורה לכל העם כולו והם הם שהיו המורים והשופטיםובכל זאת עליהם היו ממונים סנהדרין גדולה ששפטה אותם, ושטות ואולת גדולה לחשוב מה שכתב פלוני על אודות החשמונאים, והיא רק שיחה קלה להשיב לקלי דעת המאמינים לכל דבר ולא לתורתינו ועבדי’ חכמי התלמוד הנאמנים לד’ ולתורתו, אין ספק שמידי מעתיקי הרמב”ם בא אשמת החסרון בדבריו, ואין לדון מאומה מדברי ידידי מעכ”ת שי’ שהר”מ ז”ל האמין בלבבו הטהורה פשוטו כמשמעו, ככל המון בית ישראל, כפשטות ד’ הגמ’, וחלילה לנו להשליך דברי אלקים חיים מבעלי התלמוד אשר מימיהם אנו שותים אחרי גיוינו ולנוע אחרי ספרים חיצונים אשר לא בא זכרם בתלמוד הקדוש ומוקדש קודש הקדשים, ואין המאמר שוה להפסיד העת בבקורתו ילך לו בעל המאמר בשיטתו ואנחנו בשם אלקינו ועבדיו נזכיר אנחנו ובנינו אותו נעבוד כל ימינו לטוב לנו סלה” [57] See for example; Eliyhu Rabah, 670:9; Chida, Devarim Achadim (derush 32); Yemei Dovid, p. 142, 148; Zera Yakov, Shabbas, p.13a; Mahratz Chayis. Shabbas 21b; Shut Minchas Baruch, siman 109; Rav Tavyumi, Tal Oros, 1, p. 93-94. See also R. Illoy, Melchemet Elokyim, p. 203, 215. Rav Kook, Mitzvos Rayehu, (siman 670) [58] As far as a Bar Ilan search shows. See also the article in Ha-mayan 34 (1994), pp. 21-42, about the library of the Beis Yosef. [59] For more on the Yerushalmi’s omission see L. Ginsburg (Ginzei Schechter 2:476) who writes: וראוי להעיר שבתלמוד ארץ ישראל כמעט לא נזכרו דיני חנוכה כלל לא בדברי התנאים ולא בדברי האמוראים ורק בבבל שעובדי האש גזרו על מצוה זו וככל מצוה שמסרו ישראל נפשם עליה נתחזקה מאד בידיהם… See also G. Alon, Mechkarim Betoldos Yisroel, 1:15-2; M. Benovitz, Torah Lishma, 2007, pp. 39-78. [60] Shem Hagedolim, entry for MT. [61] Mahratz Chajes, vol. 1, pp. 153-54; Radal, Kadmus Hazohar, p. 269. The question is who said all this first Krochmal in his Moreh Nevuchei Hazeman (p. 254) brings this idea and adds the Maharatz Chayes proof from the way the Gemara quotes MT and on this last part he attributes it to the Maharatz Chayes. This indicates according to S. Friedman in Zion, 71 (2006), p. 33, in a Yakov Zussman like footnote, that Krochmal was the first to say this actual idea. On the close relationship between them see M. Hershkowitz, Rabbi Zvi Hirsch Chayes, pp. 233-275. However see, A. Rosenthal, Mechkarei Talmud, 2. p. 484. See also R. Elyaqim Milzahagi, Sefer Raviah, pp. 10b-11a, who said this idea himself around the same time. [62] H. Lichtenstein, ‘Die Fastenrolle – Eine Untersuchung zur jüdisch-hellenistischen Geschichte’, HUCA, VIII-IX (1931-2), pp. 317-351 [63] S.Z. Leiman, Scroll of Fasts: The Ninth of Tebeth, Jewish Quarterly Review 74:2 (October 1983), p. 174. [64] Tarbitz, 59 (1990), p. 43, Note 139. [65] For reviews on this work see here. M. Bar Ilan, Moed, 16 (2006), pp. 114-130. [66] See V. Noam in The Literature of the Sages volume two, pp. 339-62. It is worth noting that in 2008 another important page of a manuscript of MT was discovered from the 1300’s See Y. Rosenthal, Tarbiz, 77 (2008), pp. 357-410; V. Noam, Ibid, pp. 411-424. [67] On the name scholion, see S. Friedman, Zion 71 (2006), pp. 31-33. [68] The Scholion to the Megilat Ta‘anit: Towards an Understanding of Its Stemma, Tarbiz 62 (1992-93): 55-99 (in Hebrew); “Two Testimonies to the Route of Transmission of Megillat Ta‘anit and the Source of the Hybrid Version of the Scholion”, Tarbiz 65 (1995-96): 389-416 (in Hebrew). [69] The Miracle of the Cruse of Oil: A Source for Clarifying the Attitude of the Sages to the Hasmoneans? Zion 67 (2001-2): 381-400 (in Hebrew); The Miracle of the Cruse of Oil”, HUCA 73 (2003): 191-226. See also her MT, pp. 266-276. [70] Zion 71 (2006), pp. 5-40. [71] Leshonenu, 67 (2005), pp. 153-160. See also the articles of M. Benovitz cited above in note two. See the latest Hebrew Kulmos, issue 107 (2012), p. 36 for a small article on this topic which was obviously not aware of Friedman’s article on the topic. For more on this word see; Sefer Ha-Tishbi, Erech Hadar; ibid, Raglei Mevaser; Rav Teichtal, Shut Mishna Sachir, Siman 198 [= Mishna Sachir, Moadyim 1, p. 513]; M.B. Lerner, in Torah Lishma, 2007, p. 184. [72] For another recent example of such work by Oz Ve-Hador see the latest Yeshurun 25 (2011), pp. 724-735 in regard to the supposed work of the Malbim on Koheles which was printed from manuscript. [For an updated version of this piece one can e-mail me at Eliezerbrodt@gmail.com]

 




Kitniyot and Stimulants: Coffee and Marijuana on Passover

Kitniyot and Stimulants: Coffee and Marijuana on Passover
One of the more interesting customs for Pesach in that of refraining from kitniyot. There is much discussion regarding the origins of this mysterious custom.  That is, the exact time this custom began, as well as it initial rationale is cloaked in mystery. That is not to say that numerous reasons haven’t been offered, only that we probably will never know for certain why this was enacted.  Moreover, what exactly is encompassed in this custom is similarly cloaked in mystery.  We have food items running the gamut.  Aside from the standard fare of rice, we have those prohibiting such seemingly odd foods as garlic and carrots.  Thus, it should come as no surprise that many have included foods that there is no legitimate reason for doing so. Indeed, as we shall see, in some instances the foods in question are prohibited although it is clear that the persons prohibiting them have no idea what exactly the foods are.  This hearkens to the idea espoused by Dr. Daniel Sperber, discussed in this article, and expanded upon in this book, that if one understanding of history, bibliography and other relevant areas is lacking this may lead one to make grievous errors in halakhic matters. In this post we will deal with two foods, both of which were prohibited under the rubric of kitniyot, and, apparently, those who made these decisions were unaware of the actual characteristics of the foods in question.  The two items we shall deal with are coffee and cannabis (hemp, hemp seed, and marijuana). [Our discussion below is with the recognition that one must always comply with all relevant federal and state laws and we limit our discussion to what position Jewish law takes regarding this topic.]
Coffee
Coffee was introduced to Western Europe in the 17th century. [See David Liss’s excellent fictionalized account of the burgeoning coffee trade in Jewish Amsterdam, The Coffee Trader. (Avner Gold has an Artscroll book, A Scandal in Amsterdam, that uses much of the same material, one wonders if it was “influenced” by Liss’s book.)]  With its introduction, some rabbis began dealing with its halakhic status, which blessing is required and, as relevant here, whether it is permissible on Passover.  R. Ya’akov Reischer (1670-1733), in his Shevut Ya’akov (vol. 2 no. 5), deals with both these questions.  Regarding the first, he holds a shehakol is the correct blessing.  Regarding the issue of Passover, he permits coffee.  He is skeptical that coffee would be considered kitniyot because “he has been told” that coffee is grown on trees, and whatever one may think about the scope of kitniyot, it does not encompass tree fruits.  But, R. Reischer hedges a bit and notes that even if coffee would be deemed kitniyot, as coffee is roasted, or, as he refers to it “burnt prior to Passover” this renders coffee unfit for even a dog and permissible on Passover.
R. Yosef b. David of Breslau, in Hok Yosef (no. 457, first published in 1730), however, disagrees.  He first questions the argument regarding roasting or burning the beans and notes that the roasting process is an integral part of coffee process.  More fundamentally, he argues that indeed coffee is kitniyot. He notes that his father-in-law, R. Abraham Broda, similarly held that coffee is kitniyot and prohibited.
R. Hayyim Yosef David Azulai (HIDA), disputes this holding in very strong terms.  HIDA explains (Shu”t Tov Eyin, no. 8) that these rabbis “should be forgiven [for holding coffee is prohibited as kitniyot] because coffee is the fruit of a tree.”  Regarding this classification HIDA is not speaking from second hand accounts like R. Reischer, rather HIDA notes that “a few years ago I saw a coffee tree in Amsterdam in the botanical gardens, as well as in Pisa and thus there is no reason to be strict regarding coffee.”  HIDA in his travelogue describes in detail his visit to the Amsterdam botanical gardens, Hortus Medicus. On the 18th of Iyar, 1778, in the afternoon,  HIDA went to the gardens. He says “that these gardens are truly indescribable they are so beautiful, all the plants and grasses are in rows, and everything is so clean, it is a testament to human intelligence.  Every plant is labeled. There are plants from America, Portugal and Turkey all in rows according their nationalities.  The wall have holes where fires can be lit to control the temperature of the gardens and ensure that the plants can survive even in the cold climate of Amsterdam.  Among the plants I saw was the coffee plant.”  (Ma’agel Tov ha-Shalem p. 150-51 ) While HIDA is unwilling to accede that these rabbis were completely unaware that coffee is tree fruit, it begs the question what those who prohibit coffee were thinking in considering coffee kitniyot.
It is not only those who prohibit coffee who seem to be unaware of exactly what they are discussing.  More recently, R. Yitzhak Isa’ak Weiss (1875-1944), one of the Spinka Rebbis, discusses “two” types of coffee, one grown on trees and the other grown “in gardens.”  He ultimately holds that both types of coffee are permitted, but the issue is that coffee always grows on tress.  There are two major types of coffee, arabica and robusta, both of which grow on trees.  Perhaps what R. Weiss is discussing is another type of coffee – one that was commonly substituted for coffee – but is not in fact coffee.  The common substitute, which has its own history and own halakhic issues, is chicory. [See. R. Y. Goldhaver’s excellent articles regarding chicory and its treatment under Jewish law in Yeshurun 19:792-834, 20:839-864] Chicory is indeed a bush and not a tree and perhaps is what R. Weiss is discussing.
Today, for most (with Passover, one can almost always find a group that prohibits something) coffee is not deemed kitniyot and is Kosher for Passover.  Indeed, one of the more common haggadot is the one produced by the Maxwell House Coffee company. (For more on the Maxwell House haggadah see our  post, “On The Maxwell House Haggadah.”)  One scholar has commented on this phenomenon: “As always, entrepreneurs, Jewish and otherwise, capitalized on wives’ and mothers’ desires to have just the right foods on the table for Passover, that longest standing of traditions.  Maxwell House coffee, reportedly, caused a stir at many seder meals when it introduced a new ‘tradition’ of drinking coffee rather than tea at the end of the sumptuous holiday banquet. A decade or so later, the company would print its own Haggadah to insure a ‘unique relationship between a product and a people.” (Jeffrey S. Gurock, Orthodox Jews in America (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2009), p. 151.) Maxwell House even advertised in Yiddish in HaPardes: [Thanks to M. Butler for these two sources.]

 

Marijuana
In 2007, the Green Party in Israel made headlines in coming out that Ashkenzim should not smoke marijuana on Passover.  There were articles from the Jerusalem Post on the topic as well as other publications.  Most are notable only in that how poor they are in substance.  Indeed, another recent example can be found here.  Although from reading these articles one may get the sense that rabbis haven’t discussed the marijuana, indeed there is at least one responsa on cannabis, the plant from which marijuana is derived, and its status on Passover.
R. Yitzhak Ya’akov Weiss (1902-1989), in Shu”t Minhat Yitzhak (vol. 3 no. 138(b)), discusses cannabis on Passover.  Specifically, he is dealing with two foods, cannabis and cotton-seed oil, but we will focus on cannabis. Prior to engaging in this discussion we should note that the cannabis plant produces three things: (1) hemp which is fibrous and can be used to make clothing, and was commonly used to make strong rope; (2) hemp seed, which is used in food and in some homeopathic remedies; and (3) as a narcotic referred to as marijuana. [See also Y. Felix, Marot ha-Mishna, Jerusalem: 1977, p. 131; and Z. Amar, “Hashish and the Hashishim in Eretz Yisrael and Syria During the Medieval Period,” in Ariel 120 (1997), pp. 277-282 (he discusses, among other topics the band of assassins that are associated with the narcotic).]  R. Weiss first notes that cannabis shouldn’t be questionable at all for Passover as Rambam, in the laws of prohibited mixing of seeds, labels cannabis as a vegetable and not kitniyot.  However, R. Weiss points out that there is an internal problem with the Rambam, one that many of commentaries on Rambam have dealt with, but not to R. Weiss’s satisfaction. It should be noted that one commentary, Radbaz (1479-1589 or 1463-1573), in his discussion of this issue makes it apparent that he is aware of cannabis’s narcotic use.  He explains that “in Egypt they eat [smoke?] cannabis and become high and those who do report that it makes them very happy . . . in other places they use cannabis to make clothing like linen.” Returning to the conflict in Rambam, R. Weiss’s solution is that there is no conflict and instead Rambam is referring to two distinct plants both of which are called cannabis.  He arrives at this conclusion by noting that cannabis is defined differently.  Some define cannabis as a fiber and others refer to it as a food item.  Thus, he concludes that there must be two different plants which share the same name.  This conclusions is of course wrong.  There are not two distinct plants but a single plant that has a variety of uses.  [Additionally, it should be noted that R. Weiss “proves” his point by referencing a Mishna that contains nikkudot.  He doesn’t identify which edition he is referring to – Kehati or some other, but using such a source is highly questionable. The Kaufmann Mishna, one of the oldest examples of a nikkud mishna doesn’t contain both mentions of cannabis in the Mishna and therefore it is impossible to determine if the nikkud follows that advocated by R. Weiss.]
R. Weiss, based upon his non-existent two plant types, concludes that hemp would be included in the prohibition of kitniyot. In so doing, R. Weiss provides yet another example of someone incorrectly categorizing a food based on lack of knowledge of the plant itself. In all events, this responsum of R. Weiss, even though it is incorrect, is not referred to in any of the above cited articles.  Indeed, the Star-K reaches the opposite conclusion and lists hemp and hemp seed as permitted on Passover (so long as one ensures there are no errant grains mixed in). Thus, it appears that marijuana would equally be deemed non-kitniyot.
Even if one accepts that marijuana is kitniyot, there is another reason that smoking it on Passover would be permitted.  This is so as R. Ya’akov Emden, (Mor u-Kitziya no. 511) discusses using tobacco on Passover where there is a fear that the tobacco may have been soaked in beer.  R. Emden explains that using such tobacco poses no problem on Passover for many reasons.  In fact, he is so sure that such tobacco is permitted he “would have announced that Jew can affirmatively soak his tobacco in beer prior to Passover, but for the fact that am haratzim would view this as wrong.” [In part this sweeping permission is due to the fact that tobacco is inedible and thus immediately after the beer is mixed in it is no longer edible.]  R. Emden concludes that he “remembers that his father [R. Tzvi Ashkenzi, Hakham Tzvi] used to laugh at those who displayed piety (mit-hassdim) and purchased Kosher for Passover tobacco.”  R. Emden’s rationale applies with equal force to marijuana.  In particular, R. Emden explains that smoking is merely deriving benefit and not considered ingesting the item in question.  This is so even if one derives benefit through one’s mouth.  R. Emden goes further to allow one to use snuff where one is partially ingesting the tobacco.  Thus, according to R. Emden, smoking something that contains hametz (beer) is not a problem, surely something that is kitniyot would pose no problem. Therefore, presuming one is smoking marijuana, this would be allowed on Passover even according to those who consider it kitniyot.
What is particularly surprising is that if one is resorting to Jewish law to determine the status of marijuana, this question is not limited to Passover.  Indeed, irrespective of marijuana’s status vis-à-vis Passover, various Rabbis have opined that using marijuana is always prohibited. For example, R. Moshe Feinstein (Shu”t Iggerot Moshe, Y”D vol. 3, no. 35) was asked about “the Yeshiva bochorim that have begun to smoke hashish (marijuana)” and if this is permissible.  R. Feinstein replies unequivocally that according to Jewish law the practice is prohibited. Similarly, R. Shlomo Zalman Auerbach prohibits the use of marijuana.  (Nishmat Avraham, O”H no. 155, no. 4)  He also deals with the issue of if one is under the influence what is their halakhic status. (Shulchan Shelmo, Refuah, vol. 2, p. 223).
Additional Sources Regarding Kitniyot Generally:
Israel Ta-Shma, “Prohibition of Kitniyot on Pesach,” Early Franco-German Ritual and Custom (Jerusalem: Hebrew University Magnes Press, 1992), p.271-282 (Hebrew)
R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin, Ha-Mo’adim be-Halakha, pp. 305-312
Simcha Emanuel, Deroshot ha-Rokeach le-Pesach, Mossad Bialik, pp. 51-53 (reviewed here)
Shut Beis Mordecai (Fogelman) #23
R.Yakov Chaim Sofer, Menuchas Sholom 7, 93-99, Menuchas Sholom, 8, p. 219-230
Minhag Avotenu be-Yadnu, 2, Chapter 20
There is also a chapter on kitniyot in Mo’adim le-Simcha although there are some inaccuracies contained therein.  Additionally, some of those inaccuaries are the same that appear in the early article in Minhag Yisrael Torah vol. 2 no. 457, thus providing yet another example of plagiarism on the Mo’adim le-Simcha‘s part.  

 




Who was Reb Shlomo?

Who was Reb Shlomo? by Natan Ophir (Offenbacher)
 
Natan Ophir’s book, Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach: Life, Mission, and Legacy, has just appeared. This is a complete biography of Carlebach’s life (not a hagiography) and is essential for anyone with an interest in Carlebach. The Seforim Blog is happy to include this excerpt from the book, pp. 413-419.
1.      Who was Reb Shlomo?
Who was Reb Shlomo Carlebach? This question was deliberated in the obituaries after his death. Elli Wohlgelernter of The Jerusalem Post tried to describe Shlomo’s elusive uniqueness:
The obituaries referred to Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach as the “Singing Rabbi,” but that’s like describing Yankee Stadium as just some ballpark in the Bronx…. To have spent any time with Shlomo – that’s all he was called, never Rabbi Carlebach – was to understand this: he was his own kind of rabbi and they were his own songs, and they will be sung for as long as Jews gather to sing and dance….He was part hippie, part yippie, part beatnik, and part New Age. He was Dylan, Elvis, Arlo and Seeger all rolled into one, with a touch of Sholem Aleichem and Mark Twain.[1]
Indeed, Shlomo just didn’t seem to fit into any restrictive defining label. Menachem Daum, in a video report for Religion News and Ethics, labeled Rabbi Carlebach as the “most unorthodox Orthodox rabbi.” Moshe Stern, the internationally renowned cantor, characterized Carlebach as a combination of “a prodigal tzaddik, a musical genius, perhaps a religious exegete, a hippie in religious-ultra-orthodox garb.” Stern highlighted the all-encompassing nature of Reb Shlomo’s personality which defied categorization:
His greatest strength was and remains chiefly his ability to be all encompassing, a kind of prototype for felling the divides, for blurring the borders. This, it seems, is what the ears and souls of many in that younger generation latched onto, seeking as they did an escape path from the rigid categorizing enforced on them by the split reality of Israeli life.[2]
Similarly, Robert L. Cohen asks: Was there ever such an “embodied paradox, a bundle of contradictions?”[3] Cohen enumerates some of the seemingly contradictory aspects of Shlomo’s life. For example:
A thoroughgoing traditionalist, with Orthodox yeshiva education and rabbinical ordination, he outraged the Orthodox; a man for whom “pluralism” was an alien, ill-fitting concept, he was an implicit pluralist – teaching and singing everywhere, honoring rabbis of every denomination and encouraging others’ unorthodox paths.[4]
Shlomo was equally at home with the Admor of Amshinov, the homeless in Riverside Park, and Hadassah women. But there were subtle differences in how he presented himself. It was a different type of Shlomo comforting soldiers in hospitals during the Yom Kippur War, and another Shlomo singing for Christians in Poland and Germany.
A 1994 obituary by Yossi Klein Halevi in The Jerusalem Report used the term “Pied Piper of Judaism” to describe how Shlomo “taught an orphaned generation numbed by the Holocaust and assimilation how to return to joy.” Halevi captured the uniqueness of Shlomo’s concerts:
A Shlomo concert was part 60s-style happening, part Hasidic revival…. Shlomo always appeared with an entourage – strung-out street people, rebellious yeshivah boys, spiritual seekers, groupies… The only constant was Shlomo himself: his beautiful melodies; his deep, sure voice; his at-once profound and hokey rap ranging from Hasidic stories to exhortations for people to love each other, to mocking and very funny critiques of both ultra-Orthodoxy and Reform Judaism.[5]
The question of who was Reb Shlomo was often a reflection of how people related to him. Sometimes, it was Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach officiating in rabbinical functions such as weddings. Most disciples preferred the appellation “Reb Shlomo” to indicate a Hasidic closeness and warmth.[6] But for many followers, it was simply “Shlomo,” the best friend, informal confidant, eschewing titles or other artificial barriers. He was the rabbi poised at the entrance to his shul on West 79th St. to welcome all with a bear hug. In the setting of Manhattan’s street corners, he was a “holy brother” to many a “holy beggar.”
With a natural ease, Reb Shlomo also assumed the role of a charismatic prayer leader. For example, on Hoshana Rabbah services at West 79th St., wearing a white kittel and black gartel, he was like a choirmaster orchestrating the musical accompaniment of trumpet, violin and
singing congregation. In the full hour-long video dated September 26, 1994 at the Carlebach Shul, one can see the epitome of the new religious structure invented by Reb Shlomo: integrating a selection of his songs for the Hallel, each setting a different mood and spiritual direction; the symbolic waving of the lulav and arava with joyful dancing, and interjections in English creating a thoughtful direction.[7]
This is the Shlomo leading a new form of religious experience specifically adapted to the Orthodox community.
Shlomo was able to blend in to so many different types of communities because he reflected sundry images to diverse audiences. Prof. Shaul Magid uses the metaphor of a mirror:
Most remember him as a mirror: They saw in him what they wanted him to be, or what they imagined themselves to be…. each of his followers heard what he or she wanted and constructed him in their image. The Orthodox offer one reading, the neo-Hasidim another, Diaspora Jews another, Israeli Jews another; leftists read him one way, Jewish militants another. The point is none of them really know… He bequeathed a “Judaism of uncertainty” (“what do we know?” was his catchphrase) so that everything could be reviewed and revised, in the spirit of love and not separation, on compassion and not exclusion.[8]
Nonetheless, of all the images of Shlomo, the most well-known is that of the Singing Rabbi, the father of modern Hasidic music.
2. The Foremost Songwriter in Judaism?
Ari Goldman, in The New York Times obituary in 1994, designated Shlomo Carlebach “the foremost songwriter in contemporary Judaism.”[9] Recently, Goldman reiterated this statement, adding that it has never been disputed.[10] In 1997, music historian, Robert L. Cohen, referred to Shlomo as “the most prolific composer of liturgical folk melodies in this, perhaps any, century.”[11] In a later article, Cohen explained that Carlebach “opened the gates for a new generation of niggun makers” by creating music with a Hasidic flavor that could be accessible to young Americans:
Shlomo Carlebach had a phenomenal gift for melodies that conveyed yearning and joy, sweetness and exultation all at once… His
example inspired an entire generation to set traditional, and some original, verses to their own new melodies… The result has been a garland of new Jewish music – of new wings for our prayers.[12]
This type of recognition recurs in various Jewish encyclopedias and year books. Mark K. Bauman in the 2011 Jewish American Chronology, recognized Shlomo as “the twentieth century’s most prolific and influential composer of Jewish music and a key ambassador of spirituality,
especially to Jewish youth.”[13] Judah M. Cohen, in the Encyclopaedia Judaica entry, defined Carlebach’s extraordinary influence:
At the time of his death, Shlomo Carlebach had become a legend of sorts, having recorded over 25 albums, composed up to 5,000 songs, performed on five continents, released two official songbooks, amassed a broad following, granted semikhah to both male and female students, and given away nearly all his earnings. Several of his songs, moreover, had become “traditional” during Jewish events; revelers would sing such songs as “Esa Einai,” “David Melekh Yisrael,” “Am Yisrael Chai,” and “Od Yeshoma.”[14]
Mark Kligman, professor of Jewish Musicology at Hebrew Union College in New York, in his survey of contemporary Jewish music in the American Jewish Year Book (2001) stated: “Jewish musical artists of today consider Shlomo Carlebach the father of contemporary Jewish music.”[15] Kligman explains that the most innovative part of Shlomo’s musical success was “the blending of Hassidic song with folk music”:
Combining the participatory ease of folk music, the energy of the newly created music from Israel, and the religious fervor of the Hassidic niggun, he succeeded in moving liturgical music out of the synagogue and into a wide range of other settings, including concert halls and night clubs, and used his music to educate and inspire Jews to renew their Jewish identity and discover the beauty of Jewish life.[16]
Nonetheless, not all Jewish musicologists have recognized Shlomo’s importance. Cantor Macy Nulman in his 1975 comprehensive encyclopedia of Jewish music does not have an entry for Shlomo Carlebach.[17] Similarly, in his 1992 masterful survey of Jewish musical traditions, Hebrew University Professor of Musicology, Amnon Shiloah, does not mention Shlomo.[18] Presumably, part of the reason is that popular Hasidic folk songs are not on the same level as professional music. Indeed, Shlomo’s musical success is remarkable considering that he never really trained as a professional musician, and apart from a few voice lessons in Manhattan, was not an expert cantor. Or as Shlomo self-effacingly explained in an interview to Elli Wohlgelenter:
I don’t think I have a good voice. I think my voice is just good enough to inspire people to sing with me. If I would have a gevalt voice like, let’s say, Moshe Koussevitzky, then nobody would want to sing with me, because then they’ll think they don’t want to miss my voice, but my voice is just good enough to make them sing.[19]
Shlomo’s self-comparison to the renowned cantor Moshe Koussevitzky highlights a key ingredient of his musical success. Rather than impress an audience by a beautiful recital, Shlomo led a sing-along of catchy tunes. A typical Carlebach tune is easy to follow.[20] At Shlomo events, participants quickly learned his new songs thus furthering their popularity.
Musicologist Velvel Pasternak explained that if judged by objective musical standards, Shlomo was not the most outstanding composer, singer or guitarist, but his success was due to an uncanny ability to strike an immediate responsive chord in the ears of his listeners:
Even a seemingly banal sounding melody became a hypnotic and mesmerizing chant. The simplicity of his melody line, the intensity of his performances, the charisma of his personality, served to create a worldwide musical following.[21]
Furthermore, by adapting the form and fervor of a Hasidic farbrengen (see above, Chapter 6), Shlomo constructed a new hybrid of folk singing and semi-prayer. To quote the insightful appraisal of Motti Regev and Edwin Seroussi:
Armed with a guitar, dressed like an “orthodox hippie,” and using the most basic harmonies and short, repetitive melodies, Carlebach appeared at concerts that became a kind of unorthodox prayer that recalled the traditional Hassidic tish, an assembly of Hassidim around the table of the rebbe, held on special dates, and characterized by singing and dancing.[22]
In sum, the amalgamation of a Hasidic tish, inspirational storytelling, emotional insights, and ethical exhortations created the innovative Carlebachian musical experience. Samuel C. Heilman, professor of Sociology at Queens College CUNY, describes Shlomo Carlebach as a product of a synergy between Hasidic, Israeli, and American trends:
He attached himself to Hasidic prayer styles from which he took the idea of expressive enthusiasms in prayer and devotional ecstasy as part of Jewish outreach. From American new folk idioms, he took the guitar, rhythms, the practice of sing-alongs, the “talking blues,” concertizing, and the idea of making recordings. From Israeli culture, he borrowed the idea of shirah b’tzibbur, i.e., choral singing as a tool of social solidarity. All these he mixed syncretistically to develop his particular style.[23]
Indeed, this description sums up the secret of the appeal to Reb Shlomo’s music. He was able to bring together the popular folk music of the 1960s and the fervor of Hasidic niggunim to create a new genre of music. But Heilman goes further and explains:
Contemporary Carlebach minyanim have elevated him and his approach to a kind of mythic status. Reb Shlomo, as devotees refer to him these days, is the modern Jew’s counterpart to the Hasidic rebbes and other immortals that the Haredi world has enshrined. Like these rebbes, he is frequently resurrected in stories, songs, aphorisms, and teachings that are meant to shape the attitudes and religious character of those who invoke his memory.[24]
.
[1] Elli Wohlgelernter, “Simply Shlomo,” The Jerusalem Post, April 20, 1995.
[2] Ronit Tzach in Yediot Aharonot, Seven Day Magazine, Feb. 4, 2005, 34. Cited in Shmuel Barzilai, Chassidic Ecstasy in Music (Frankfurt am Main: 2009), 152.
[3] This witty aphorism is a quote from Charles Caleb Colton (1780–1832), Lacon or Many things in Few Words: Addressed to Those Who Think,vol.1, books?id=6AclAAAAMAAJ&pg=PA180&img=1&pgis=1&dq=paradox&sig=ACfU3U0aMhUVF-mTU8guK4hy2jQQRHDH4A&edge=0CCCCVII, p. 1980.
[4] Robert L. Cohen, “Jewish Soul Man.” Moment, August 1997, 59–64, 83.
[5] Yossi Klein Halevi, “The Pied Piper of Judaism,” The Jerusalem Report, Nov. 17, 1994, 45.
[6] Shlomo explained the advantages of using the designation “Reb” rather than “Rabbi” by playfully distinguishing the letters. “Rabbi” is a combination of Ra (Hebrew for “bad”) and Bi (“he gets by”), whereas “Reb” is a shortened form of “Rebbe,” and in Hebrew means “Rabbi” with the letter yod, signifying the Divine Presence – “God is so tremendous inside” – God’s Light in you. Shlomo’s explanation can be heard on segment 4:53–5:11 in part 4 of “Rabbi Shlomo In Concert”, YouTube, http://bit.ly/1bq3rE0. This is from his concert in Feb. 1994 in Miami Beach.
[7] For an hour long program of Reb Shlomo leading the singing for the Hoshana Rabbah service at the Carlebach Shul on 79th St., see Kikarhashabat.co.il; http://bit.ly/16CTaBM. Compare http://bit.ly/1dbGmHj; http://bit.ly/18pI96e. A record was produced entitled R. Shlomo Carlebach – The Last Hoshana Raba, http://bit.ly/HjJRAv, http://bit.ly/1g44CyH; http://bit.ly/18pHZMk.
[8] Shaul Magid, “Carlebach’s Broken Mirror,” Tablet Magazine, Nov. 1, 2012, TabletMag.com, http://www.tabletmag.com; http://bit.ly/1ac2Yc6.
[9] Ari L. Goldman, “Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach,” New York Times, Oct. 22, 1994.
[10] Ari L. Goldman, “Why Carlebach Matters,” The Jewish Week, May 8, 2009.
[11] Cohen, “Jewish Soul Man,” 59.
[12] Robert Cohen, “New Wings for Our Prayers: On American Jewish Music,” Open the Gates!, vol. 1, 2005, excerpted in Tikkun, March 27, 2008, Tikkun.org, http://bit.ly/17Qyw1k. Cohen’s essay accompanies the CD American-Jewish Music for Prayer and describes Jewish religious folk music, its inspiration in the Hasidic movement and its cultural roots in American folk music. The CD includes 18 different composers and performers of prayerful melodies and #17 is “Ein Keilokeinu” of Shlomo Carlebach.
[13] Mark K. Bauman, Jewish American Chronology: Chronologies of the American Mosaic (Santa Barbara, California: 2011), 119.
[14] Judah M. Cohen, “Carlebach, Shlomo,” Encyclopaedia Judaica, 2nd ed., vol. 4, 481–482.
[15] Mark Kligman, “Contemporary Jewish Music in America,” in David Singer and Lawrence Grossman (eds.), American Jewish Year Book. New York: 2001, vol. 101, 88–140.
[16] Kligman, “Contemporary Jewish Music.”
[17] Macy Nulman, The Concise Encyclopedia of Jewish
Music
(New Zealand: 1975).
[18] Amnon Shiloah, Jewish Musical Traditions (Detroit: 1992). His book is based on a course in Hebrew that Shiloah prepared for the Open University in the years 1985–1987.
[19] Wohlgelernter, “Simply Shlomo.”
[20] A typical Carlebach tune has two contrasting sections of only eight bars each, with the second one in a higher register, melodic sequences, and constant syncopation (with the rhythm accenting a normally weak beat) – see Motti Regev and Edwin Seroussi, Popular Music and National Culture in Israel (Berkeley–Los Angeles–London: 2004), 129.
[21] Velvel Pasternak, “A Musical Legacy,” Aquarian Minyan Newsletter, Autumn–Winter, 1995, reprinted in David Wolfe-Blank (ed.), The Aquarian Minyan KhaZak! Khazak!, 388–389.
[22] Regev and Seroussi, Popular Music, 127–128.
[23] Adapted from Samuel C. Heilman, Sliding to the Right: The Contest for the Future of American Jewish Orthodoxy (Berkeley and Los Angeles: 2006), 291.
[24] Ibid.