Rav Shmuel Ashkenazi: a Hidden Genius
By Eliezer Brodt

This Monday night is the first yahrzeit marking the passing of a unique Talmid Chacham, R’ Shmuel Ashkenazi of Yerushalayim, at the age of ninety-eight. R’ Shmuel was one of the hidden giants of the seforim world, in both ultra-orthodox and academic circles. I had the Zechus to learn much from him and in this article, I wish to describe this fascinating but hardly known Gaon and what we can learn from his life. An earlier abridged version of this article appeared in the Ami Magazine last year. IY”H in the future I will expand this essay.

One day back in 2000, while learning in the Mir as a Bochur, I was having a conversation with a friend, R’ Yaakov Yisrael Stahl, and R’ Shmuel Ashkenazi’s name came up, R’ Yaakov described him as an extraordinary Talmid Chacham. A little while later, during one of my daily seforim store trips I noticed a recent arrival, a very heavy sefer (844 pp.) with a peculiar title, Alfa Beta Kadmita de-Shmuel Zeira. I opened it up and immediately put two and two together, realizing that the author is the same R’ Shmuel Ashkenazi I just heard about. Upon purchasing it, I could not put it down. Learning through it I was immediately able to tell that my friend had not exaggerated in the slightest way. It appeared that this person knew literally everything about anything connected to Torah.

First Meeting

At the time, I had been working on researching and publishing my first article which dealt with tracing everything about the custom of not sleeping on Rosh Hashanah. One of the earliest sources quoted was in the name of a Yerushalmi which appeared to have been lost at some point. I had been searching all over for any information on this topic, and it was then that I noticed that R’ Ashkenazi was planning on writing about this topic in the next volume of his. I am not sure why but at the time I did not make an effort to speak with him about this. I returned to the US for a few years, and while in the US I drafted a letter to him listing all of my issues on this topic but I never got around to sending it. When I returned to Eretz Yisroel in 2004, one of the first of my planned stops was to visit R’ Shmuel Ashkenazi. Almost immediately upon returning a newly made friend, R’ Duvid Vieder, a Toldos Aharon Chossid who was close to R’ Ashkenazi, brought me into him to visit. From then on, I began to visit him regularly, this custom continued until a few weeks before the 2020 coronavirus lockdowns. At times I visited him once a week for an hour or so, other times once a month, other times I would speak to him on the phone.

I must preface my reminiscences by saying that, sadly, I did not heed the advice of the Chasam Sofer who told his children and talmidim that since he won’t be around forever, they should “chap arein” and listen to his stories. Unfortunately, this is not the first person with whom this has happened to me. I took for granted that Rav Ashkenazi would be around forever, (he did die at the age of 98!) and assumed I would always be able to ask him again for a particular story or an idea that he mentioned.

What was the connection?

Basically, each visit I would prepare lists of questions to ask him. I would also bring him new seforim or articles (printed out in big letters, to help him read it easier). Sometimes when I would ask him something, he would say he is old and his head does not work, other times it was amazing what he remembered – on the spot. Sometimes he would pull down a file of material stored in – no jokes here – old cornflakes boxes.

I would then scan some of the material. Other times he offhand did not have anything to add on a particular topic but when looking at a particular sefer I would find a note written on the side or in a paper stored in the sefer that would be related to what I was searching. Other times I would find something else which was of great importance. Rarely did I leave his house empty handed. We both shared a love for seforim and information on a wide range of topics.

Love of Seforim

What drew me to him, and particular developed my relationship with him, was our shared love of seforim. I would update him on new seforim. At times he would ask me to purchase it for him or would borrow my copy for a bit. He told me numerous times how he enjoyed visiting and buying seforim from various shops for many years and that he started collecting when he was seven years old! Now he could not go to stores as he was too old; I got to know him when he was over eighty.

When I joined the editorial board of the journal Yeshurun, I would bring him each new volume as it was printed. Each visit he would ask me to check on the shelf where he kept them, to see if he was up to date and if needed, to update him with any missing volumes. A true lover of seforim, his face would lit up at each new volume. I would then point out some of the articles I thought he would enjoy and he would put in markers to read them.

I always wondered if he read the various volumes of Yeshurun I brought him. After he was niftar, while going through his seforim, I found inserted in one rare book a small paper which he wrote: “for more information about this author see the article in Yeshurun”. Then in a different pen he added another cite from another issue from Yeshrun from a few years later.

This small story also demonstrates a bit of his methodology; he would collect all kinds of information and store them at times in a related sefer and would constantly update these notes.

His love for seforim was something unique, the glow on his face when he opened up a new sefer, especially of someone he was into, was simply priceless. He would look carefully at the Shaar and if it was a reprint of an older sefer he would immediately check if they included the front page of the older edition to compare. He had seforim in every space possible in the four rooms of his apartment, including his porch. Many visitors noticed how even his kitchen was lined with seforim!

Dikdueki Sofrim Haskomot

An interesting story happened with me and his library. While working on an article about the Dikdueki Sofrim I was unable to track down some recorded Haskomot that the author R’ R.N.N. Rabinowitz had received for the first edition of his work. I, along with other scholars, had searched numerous copies of the first edition, but with no luck. Late one night, I came to R’ Ashkenazi’s house and mentioned to him my problem. He said “show me the issue inside,” keeping with his custom to take care to always view the source material firsthand (Osiosi Machkemios – a topic he wrote a lot about). I took down his copy of the sefer, and lo and behold it was a first edition with the missing Haskamot! I published these missing Haskamot in my article on the Didukei Sofrim, and attributed this rare and miraculous find to his extraordinary library.

His History:

Where this unique Talmid Chacham came from is simply a mystery. He was born in Yerushalayim and lived in Batei Ungarn. He learned by Rav Yosef Tzvi Dushinsky of the Edah HaChareidis. Originally, his name was Deutsch but, at some point changed it to Ashkenazi. He had four children with his wife who died over forty years ago. Since then, he lived alone in his apartment near some of his children. His son did an excellent job of Kibud Av bringing him food every day and looking on him a few times a day. Yom Tov and Simchos he spent time with his family.

When I and others asked him, who was his Rebbe, he would just smile and say no one in particular. The truth is the Mishnah in Avos states: Knei Lecha Chaver. Aside from the simple peshat, Rashi explains this Mishnah by citing some who say it means via Seforim others commentators explain this as ‘buying a pen’ (see R’ Ashkenazi’s in-depth article on this for sources). R’ Ashkenazi employed all of these methods; his friends and teachers were his seforim and his pen.

R’ Ashkenazi was a short, quiet and unassuming person. Most, having seen him walking on the street, would never believe he was such an erudite Gaon. Many times, R’ Ashkenazi did not express much emotion except to give a pleasant smile and was friendly and polite in conversation. But there were times he got very excited; for example, when he recalled a good story from his younger years or something unique that he discovered years ago. He was very polite and was a real Yekeh; for example as soon as they bentched Rosh Chodesh Kislev his Menorah was already prepared in the window.

R’ Yechiel Goldhaber, a Talmid Chacham and author of numerous articles and seforim had a close relationship with R’ Ashkenazi for many years. He recalled when he was introduced to R’ Ashkenazi for the first time by his father-in-law, he thought to himself who is this simple looking man? He soon learned that this man was a master of all of Torah and swiftly became a close Talmid of his.

Many times, he would tell me he wishes he could come visit my library. In Later years he would spend his Yomim Tovim at his daughter. One Chol Hamoed Succos, when he was over ninety, he made the difficult trek from her house to mine in order to spend time in my library.

He would love to read everything he could get his hands on. I visited him at many different times of day, even late at night and I always found him learning a sefer – even when he was over ninety. He read everything newspapers, books – he was just curious about everything with an incredible thirst for knowledge.

I recall visiting him a few times when he eighty-five and noticed he was learning the Shelah Hakodosh very carefully. I asked him why (of course he had learned through this sefer numerous times before!) and he responded that someone is reprinting the sefer and asked him to go through the sefer and send comments. He therefore sat down to learn the whole sefer, line by line, after which he wrote a ten-page letter with his comments on the sefer.

Over time, I learned again and again that R’ Ashkenazi personally believed his purpose in this world was to help people with the incredible amounts of information that he had gathered over the years of intense learning. This incredible Middah can be seen in this light; he did not feel that he was the “owner” of this extraordinary wealth of information he had collected, and thus gave very willingly without any conditions. He never asked me to cite him when he gave me some rare source even – although I always told him I would; he just was so happy to help someone else.

He would collect and catalog much of what he read. He had all kinds of systems to file the information he had gathered over eighty plus years of learning. When he would read an important article in a magazine or journal, he would cut out the parts and store them in their appropriate place. He gathered information on thousands and thousands of subjects (not an exaggeration in any form) which had some connection to our rich heritage. What’s more astounding is that R’ Ashkenazi never used a computer or the internet; all of his erudition came about simple by learning through thousands of seforim; a great many of them rare or unknown.

Over the years he helped so many people and for many years after he retired, he would visit the National Library of Israel on Tuesdays, where throngs of people would line up in wait to speak with him about all kinds of subjects.

Many years ago, he received a call from a young chassidish Talmid Chacham living in Monsey who was starting to work on publishing a new edition of the classic historical work Seder Hadorot. He started asking him questions about various issues he had. Over many phone-calls R’ Ashkenazi answered many of his difficulties while training him in proper research and writing skills. This year some volumes finally were published (see here). And this was not a onetime occurrence – he helped so many more people. He used to remark to me that when he was younger so many people would come to visit him – until the late hours of the night.

He was an expert in so many different topics, whether it was the standard ones like Tanach, Chazal, Halacha, Minhag or Chassidus or less commonly studied subjects such as Tefilah, Piyut, Dikduk, Kabbalah, Philosophy, Machshavah, History and Bibliography. In all of these areas his expertise was remarkable.

His Uniqueness

A sample of his bekius; one time I noted that the Maharsha often quotes a “Sefer Yoshon Noshon” and asked if we have any idea which sefer this is? He immediately responded that he found it usually refers to R’ Todros Abulafiah’s Otzar Hakavod.

His incredible Bekius was bolstered by an almost photographic memory, as the following story demonstrates. Once someone used the Bar-Ilan Responsa search engine to locate a passage in the Tana DeBei Eliyahu to no avail. He went to ask R’ Ashkenazi who immediately told him where the passage could be found. Checking the Bar-Ilan text, it was discovered that when the sefer was being entered into their database the passage in question had been mistakenly omitted. I first heard this story from someone else, so to make sure it was accurate I asked him about it and he confirmed it. A similar story happened with him and a passage from the Shut Chasam Sofer.

A few years back a friend was working on publishing out an esoteric Rishon on Mesechet Megillah. He thought no one ever heard of this author and randomly mentioned this to R’ Ashkenazi – without batting an eyelash – replied “of course, and one can find material by this author in the work of Rav Shlomoh Alkabetz on Megillas Esther (Manos Halevi). The fellow was stunned in elation; he had just been gifted new and important material for his project.

This remarkable Bekius which even beat out computer search engines, was just one aspect that made him remarkable. He would receive numerous calls and letters from all over the world from people of all walks of life seeking his assistance in tracking down a statement. He had an incredible knowledge of all of Chazal. I do not just mean the “standards”; Bavli, Yerushalmi and Midrash – even all the numerous and very often almost unknown Midrashim printed over the years. He was also expert in what is known as the lost Midrashim. Over the years many Midrashim we had were lost but some traces of them can be found in various Piyutim, cited by Rishonim or in other obscure places. Through his incredible amounts of learning and his phenomenal memory he was able to recall so much in this field.

To illustrate this with some samples. A few years back someone who was editing for publication a never before printed pirush of a Rishon on Avos came across a few statements in the name of Chazal. This person, a Talmid Chacham in his own right and familiar with tracking down such material, could not locate sources for these statements. Immediately he penned a letter to R’ Ashkenazi. A few days after he received a letter from R’ Ashkenazi with various incredible sources for his questions. This was a very common occurrence.

Piyut, Tefilah and language

Earlier, I mentioned his expertise in Piyut, Tefilah and language. A bit of background is needed to explain this. Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, when describing Rabbi Elazar Hakalir’s greatness, (Koren Mesorat Harav Kinot (pp. 386-388) wrote the following:

The piyutim of Rabbi Elazar HaKalir, including his kinot, serve two purposes. The first is limmud, learning. Every sentence of the piyut quotes m’aamarei Chazal… The second purpose is tokhaha, rebuking the people for their misdeeds and instructing them in the proper way to act. These piyyutim deal with… repentance… acknowledgment of God’s justice. The shali’ah Tzibbur was not merely a chazan…, but was one of the great scholars of the generation who was the principal… moral critic of the people… Rabbi Elazar HaKalir was (also) a master of the Hebrew language and very creative in his use of Hebrew. If not for him, modern Hebrew could not have come into existence. Before HaKalir, the Hebrew language was very rigid. For example, the noun and verbs were fixed in their form… But HaKalir made a critical contribution to the development of the Hebrew language by endowing the language with flexibility… Rabbi Elazar haKalir’s piyutim served two purposes: limmud, study… As for the element of study, one of the dimensions of HaKalir’s piyyutim is that they are compilations of the statements of the sages. Most of us, who are expert in neither Hebrew nor aggadot Hazal, find HaKalir’s corpus of piyutim boring. But it is not boring at all; it is like a gold mine. His piyutim for Yom Tov explain the essence of the Yom Tov. The midrashim concerning Sukkot are replete with information about the sukka, etrog and lulav, and all the explanations in the Midrash, all the ta’amei sukka, the reasons for the sukka, all of the ma’amarei Hazal, are together in the HaKalir’s piyutim for the first day of Sukkot… If one were to study carefully and thoroughly the piyutim of Rabbi Elazar HaKalir for Rosh HaSahana, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, and Pesah, one would find many applicable halakhot and the entire pertinent Midrash, including many midrashim that are unknown to us from any other source.

Rav Ashkenazi was an expert on everything related to Tefilah and Piyut. He somehow read it all and retained it. But in addition, he was able to use his expertise in Chazal and Hebrew language to understand it on a much higher level and as a result was often contacted by the world experts on Tefilah and Piyut for his assistance. These requests came from experts such as Professor Shalom Speigel, Chaim Schirmann, Avraham Haberman, Ezra Fleischer and Daniel Goldschmidt who constantly sought his assistance while working on their Tefilah and Piyut related projects.

In an interview with Ami Magazine printed a few years back, Professor Shulamit Elitzur mentioned:

“there’s another amazing thing I find when doing research. I am constantly coming across midrashim that were lost to the ages… example, everyone knows that Haman was referred to as ‘the Agagi’ because Shaul allowed Agag to live one extra night, which allowed Haman’s ancestor to be born. However, the earliest makor we find in writing in the 16th century; this fact was discovered by Rav Shmuel Ashkenazi of Yerushalayim. But I found a ktav yad of a piyut about Purim that describes this very story and explains how Haman’s ancestor was born, which gives us a source from 1,000 years earlier! And there are many similar examples of lost midrashim being kept alive through unknown piyutim.”

R’ Ashkenazi wrote some articles on Piyut and Tefilah, but we have found much more among his papers and hopefully if I can raise enough funding all his fascinating material on Tefilah will come to light.

When the important Siddur Ezer Eliyahu (sponsored by his late friend Yeshaya Vinograd) was first printed, one can see R’ Ashkenazi’s name in the introduction, thanking him for his assistance (he assisted them for some of the later additions) and his great knowledge in this field.

I mentioned that he had an incredible knowledge of Dikduk and the Hebrew language and used it towards better understanding Piyut and Tefilah. He also authored articles on these subjects and in 1967, when reviewing an important dictionary, wrote a long article demonstrating this very point – and article that garnered much praise. He was very proud of this essay and mentioned it to me many times. A few years ago, I reprinted it with additions he had made in his own copy and a nine-page topical index.

One of the ways he developed this expertise was via learning Tanach so many times. He was an expert in Tanach and all the Rishonic commentaries (including the unknown ones); he even authored a small book of Riddles of Tanach.

He also used his extraordinary skills to become a master editor. However, in addition to the work he was born with an incredible innate sensitivity for text and language which made him one of the best editors out there. For many years he worked at the famous publishing house Mossad HaRav Kook, editing various works. He told me more than once how there was an expert there who would brag (jokingly) that after he read through an article it was impossible to find mistakes. The only person who could still find mistakes was R’ Ashkenazi. He had razor-sharp vision and could immediately spot a mistake.

Many times, I would bring an edited piece of mine to read. As soon as I put it down in front of him, he would take out a red pen and start marking it up and say to me “are you sure it’s been edited?”. He told me he had to mark up everything before he could read it properly, errata were so painful for him to see that it was hard for him to read something on Shabbos! He told me he was punished; when his work Alfa Beta Kadmita de-Shmuel Zeira came out, although he had edited it numerous times, he still found mistakes.

During his learning over the years, he found many people, great Gedolim as well as famous academics, had made mistakes, sometimes quite basic ones. At one point he printed two articles about this. However, he prefaced his articles that his intent was not to mock those who erred but to vividly illustrate that people are human and mistakes will happen. He was a master of humility and never held it over anyone that they did not know what he knew.

He was not only a great expert in all aspects of the Hebrew language but was an expert in Aramaic and Yiddish, both of which he displayed in various publications of his. Related to his expertise in Aramaic, which is very important for learning Gemara, is a very unique essay which he authored related to the Rambam as a translator of the Gemara. One of the world experts in old Yiddish is Professor Chava Turniansky, who has noted on many occasions that one of the people who have always helped her from her days as a student, was R’ Ashkenazi.

Related to this was another talent of his, which at first appears trivial; he was an expert on acronyms. This led to authoring a thesaurus of acronyms together with Dov Yardan, called Otzar Roshei Tevot, with a multitude of obscure and often almost impossible entries. His sensitivity to the text and work in the field of editing drew him to this field. Anyone who learns a lot, especially older material comes across abbreviations, and many times they cause great difficulty in understanding various passages. Abbreviations were employed in writing, sometimes as mnemonic devices and other times simply to save on printing costs. But over time many meanings were forgotten. This work is an extremely useful tool for solving this issue.

Ghostwriting

One day I was in a used bookstore and I noticed a small sefer titled Harif Umishnaso about the Rif. I recalled that this title appeared in the list in beginning of his work, Alfa Beta Kadmita de-Shmuel Zeira which listed out the various works he helped with over the years. I asked R. Ashkenazi if it’s worth buying and what his connection to the book was, as a different name appears on the cover.

R’ Ashkenazi replied “I can tell you it’s an important sefer and worthwhile to buy.” I noticed he was hesitant to continue the conversation. He then said “I will tell you something I did not tell anyone in over forty years – I wrote the whole sefer from beginning to end and it was one of the most important works I ever wrote.” The original plan was to for him to write a series of biographies on various Rishonim – in this book he already references a work on the Ri Migash – but due to a lack of funding this series was discontinued. However, not all of this remained unpenned; he wrote numerous entries in various encyclopedias. It turns out that R’ Ashkenazi had over fifteen different pen names!

I would like to elaborate on this work a bit more and thus cast further light upon R’ Ashkenazi’s uniqueness and greatness. The Rif’s Halachic work is one of the most important sources in Halacha, but what exactly makes it so unique has remained a mystery. R’ Ashkenazi sought to answer this question by collecting and collating all the authentic information we have about the Rif, from the Rif and from other Rishonim. He went through the Rif carefully examining what he did to each Gemara evaluating if remarks or material was added or not and to figure out why, allowing the reader to begin to understand the Rif’s significance. R’ Ashkenazi’s writing methods were honed to precision. He had an uncanny ability to utilize every piece of information without writing an extra letter and assemble it all in perfect order sans speculations commonly found in historical works. At times one does not need grand theories to understand something; just seeing all the known material in proper order helps one understand things. The wealth of material that Rav Ashkenazi commanded in producing this work is outstanding; this book was written in 1967 – long before any of the various search engines used today.

Haggadah Sheleimah

Similar to this is another work by R’ Ashkenazi, Haggadah Sheleimah. I hope to publish an article about this work in the near future, including the numerous additions R’ Ashkenazi found over the years and kept in his files. This work is highly unique for the following reasons. The collected bibliographies by Avraham Ya’ari and Yitzchak Yudlov bear witness to thousands of Haggados written throughout the generations in a multitude of styles, such as Pilpul, Peshat, Kabbalah, Derush and more. However, until 1955 there was no one work on the Haggadah which collected all the sources for each and every Halacha and minhag related to the Seder night. There was no volume which dealt with the various manuscripts of Geonim and Rishonim and at the same time to deal with the exact text of the Haggadah. Haggadah Sheleimah set out to fill those needs, and at the same time offer a running collection of Pirushim culled from over fifty different commentators focusing just on Peshat. In order to produce such an exacting work, it’s not good enough to just be a talented writer, one must also possess a keen understanding of all the material and relay this with incredible clarity. R’ Ashkenazi was such a person; one who sought out the simple Peshat, able to put this myriad of information together in so beautiful a fashion, and with tremendous clarity. His work in Haggadah Sheleimah is so clearly organized and always straight to the point that it is no wonder that to this day Haggadah Sheleimah remains a classic in both the Torah and Academic worlds.

Rav Ashkenazi once explained to me that one has to write precisely and to the point, not lengthily. He said he believed that one of the reasons Rashi’s works survived was due to his concise way it was written, as opposed to various works of Geonim which did not really survive as they were written in a much lengthier format.

Why didn’t he publish his material?

A few years ago, a partial bibliography of his writings was printed in his Alfa Beta Kadmita de-Shmuel Zeira. The listing is close to three hundred articles and seforim that he wrote or assisted in on some level. He started writing under various pen names over eighty years ago. The background to the publication of this volume was, as I mentioned previously, R’ Ashkenazi had been writing and collection information on thousands of topics for over eighty years. Unfortunately, he did not print much of what he gathered. The main reason for this was R. Ashkenazi’s “weakness”; he demanded incredible levels of perfection from himself. Although he strived for great perfection, nonetheless he stressed to me numerous times that he was mistaken in that approach and that I should not follow in his path. In his words it is better I print my work to the best of my current abilities and that worse comes to worse you can always reprint with additions and corrections. Over twenty years ago, R’ Teflinsky somehow convinced R’ Ashkenazi that his material needed to be printed. Together they began compiling some of his material for print, resulting in a volume over eight hundred pages!

After that experience both R’ Ashkenazi and R’ Teflinsky stopped, with no plans of continuing this project. A few years later my good friend, R’ Yaakov Yisrael Stahl and myself were able to convince him to continue. R’ Stahl took upon himself the daunting task to prepare the material for publishing; since, than three more volumes were printed.

Here is a small video clip of R’ Ashkenazi, when we brought him copies of the second and third volumes of his writings, ten years ago.

The topics that these works deal with cover, on some level, virtually everything; sources for expressions and idioms, for minhag, Halacha, the evolution of famous stories, bibliography, corrections of authors’ errors, encyclopedic style information on thousands of topics culled from thousands of seforim – many of them very rare or unknown. (A PDF of the Table of contents of this work is available upon request).

His Letters

Earlier I mentioned the story of someone who wrote him a letter seeking help. This was not a one-time occurrence. He authored well over a thousand such letters in response to such questions. Some requests were for sources to various Halachos or Minhagim, numerous others are various queries related to out rich literature. R’ Ashkenazi always invested his time to answer properly and clearly. Recently, R’ Stahl and I collected these letters for publication and the result is a three-volume set, available for purchase.

Over seventy years ago he purchased a typewriter which he used until his passing.

In an article written by the late Gaon R’ S. Deblitsky, he writes out various proper actions a Rav should “observe.” One of them is to respond to people who write to him, whether the issues are big or small. R’ Ashkenazi was very careful to try to respond promptly. Many people would send him their seforim after they were printed asking him for his comments. He would usually respond with a multi-page letter, beginning by thanking the author for sending it to him, then listing out some criticisms, usually written delicately, while adding all kinds of comments. He always tried to look to say something positive. Some people who heard of him through various channels over the years contacted him before they printed their works. Many times, he would write a collection of comments and corrections to such works. A sample listing of some of those works that benefited from him before going to print include recent editions of: Sefer Zechirah, Kav Hayasher, Sefer Hachayim and many others.

Thanks to the efforts of my special friend Menachem Butler, various academics wrote some praises about the significances of these letters; to partially quote one letter written by the esteemed Professor Shnayer Z. Leiman:

Reb Shmuel was

“bibliographer, bibliophile, and book collector, and his encyclopedic knowledge of all of Hebrew and Yiddish literature remains unparalleled in our time.” His collected writings are an intellectual treasure trove, “covering a wide range of topics in the field of Jewish Studies. Aside from his scholarly distinction, R. Shmuel Ashkenazi wrote in an elegant Hebrew with its own special charm. Not only did he advance discussion, but he did so in an aesthetically pleasing manner. Let it be said openly: this… set will enlighten every reader and will significantly advance scholarship. Anyone concerned with advancing the cause of quality Jewish scholarship will take special delight in the publication of these volumes…During his lifetime [Ashkenazi] corresponded with the greatest Jewish scholars and bibliographers the world over. They wrote to him, for only he could solve the countless historical and literary problems that stumped them…”

Another person to whom Menachem Butler reached out to via his numerous contacts was former editor of Mekizei Nirdamim’s journal Kabez Al Yad, Professor Shulamit Elizur of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. In her aforementioned interview in Ami Magazine several years ago she said this:

“I am unequal to the task of adequately singing the praises of Rabbi Shmuel Ashkenazi, an erudite bibliophile. His familiarity with rabbinic writings from throughout Jewish history is unparalleled, and he is well-versed in the research literature of academic Jewish studies as well. I first met Rabbi Shmuel Ashkenazi through my teacher, the late Professor Ezra Fleischer. Prof. Fleischer, who was one of the greatest scholars of all time, would often chat with Rabbi Ashkenazi on scholarly topics, and he was careful to send Ashkenazi every article or book he published, knowing that in return he would receive enlightening comments on his work. When I began my own research, Prof. Fleischer instructed me in turn to send my publications to Rabbi Ashkenazi, and I too was privileged to learn a great deal from his comments. It once happened that I was searching for a particular midrashic theme which was alluded to in a liturgical poem (piyut), and although I consulted the leading scholars of Jerusalem who responded that it was a well-known homily, I was unable to locate its specific source. In my hour of need, I turned to Rabbi Ashkenazi, who immediately gave me several references. It emerged that every one of these references post-dated the piyut by almost a thousand years, and that this ancient tradition alluded to in the poem had been transmitted orally for that long period before being committed to writing in the later midrashim. Rabbi Shmuel Ashkenazi’s correspondence is a tremendous resource of Torah and scholarship. Every paragraph encapsulates a great deal in just a few words, and sometimes even with allusions whose explication require deep learning.”

Here is a short letter from Professor Gershom Scholem to R’ Ashkenazi:

Expressions and famous stories

In his writings some of the topics of these are about tracing expressions or the evolution of famous stories. Based on his knowledge, he was able to contribute a lot to these areas even editing some works on these topics.

One such story related to a supposed legend of a portrait of Moshe Rabbeinu which caused a great controversy over a century ago. In 1830, Rav Yisroel Lipschutz started printing his magnum opus, a commentary on the Mishnah titled Tiferes Yisroel. In the section on Maseches Kiddushin first printed in 1843, he brings a story about a king who lived in the time of Moshe, who, after hearing incredible things about this great leader, hired a painter to paint a picture of him so he could have his features analyzed by experts. The people who analyzed the picture reported that the person pictured was evil. The king went in person to visit Moshe Rabbeinu in the midbar and asked him how was it that an analysis of his pictures showed him to be of such wicked character. Moshe told him that the analysis was indeed true; however, after much work, he changed his character and became the great Moshe Rabbeinu.

In 1894 a booklet by the Vilkomir Maggid was printed railing against this story. This booklet presented numerous sources stating that Moshe Rabbeinu was born a kadosh and it was unthinkable to print such a story about him. Indeed, this story was censored out of the 1956 edition of the Tiferes Yisroel. In truth, this ancient legend can be found in various sources and in regard to different luminaries, some claiming it about Aristotle others, Socrates. In fact, R’ Ashkenazi documented it was long used in various Musar and Chasidus sefarim cited as an important lesson that one can change one’s born nature for the good, but not that it actually was true about Moshe Rabbeinu.

Another such story relates to a famous legend about the site where the Beis Hamikdash was built. Told in short, two brothers inherited a field, one brother had a family one did not. At the end of the harvest they divided up the wheat equally. That night the childless brother felt bad for his brother with a large family and said to himself “it’s unfair that while my brother needs more than I, we shared equally”, so he brought over from his pile to his brothers. The other brother thought that since his brother was childless, he should have a larger share of the crop, as consolation, so he added from his share to his brother’s. In the morning each brother realized their piles remained the same and this went on for two more nights. On the third night they met, realized each of their intentions was out of deep consideration for the other and hugged. Numerous people have searched for the early sources for this story. I decided to ask R’ Ashkenazi if he had any material on the subject. He found his file on the story and within was a letter from R’ Yudlov who had been asked by someone in the Education Ministry for the sources on this story. R’ Ashkenazi traced its first appearance in print to 1832 and from there he traced it to other sources.

Bibliography

I would like to conclude with just one more area in which R’ Ashkenazi was truly a legendary master: Bibliography. For many years, R’ Ashkenazi worked in the (now) National Library’s Bibliography of the Jewish Book Project. He also contributed to some of the important bibliographical works and journals written in the past century such as Kiryat Sefer, Otzar Sefer Haivri (Vinegrad) and Sifrei Yerushalyim Harishonim.

A few years back, while working on an article about the origins of eating Hamantaschen (see here), I found an important article from Dov Sadan containing sources on this topic. One of the sources was the interesting, controversial work Machberet Emanuel. I had a nice conversation with R’ Ashkenazi about this work – he had helped Dov Yardan prepare a critical edition of the work and even wrote a long book review on it (which he said he received a lot of Kovod for).

He mentioned two points of interest which will serve as a sample to some of his expertise. One, he noted that Emanuel of Rome wrote a commentary on sefer Mishlei. Interestingly, the preface to the Mishlei commentary sefer is signed Emanuel son of Yaakov, whereas Emanuel’s father’s name was Shlomo. Some have noted that this discrepancy and explained it is a mistake. R’ Ashkenazi suggested this was not a mistake, rather an intentional typo intended by the author to hide his connection to his controversial Machberes Emanuel. The second point he made to me was how the Chida writes in Shem Hagedolim that the best commentary to learn on Mishlei that by Emanuel of Rome. R’ Ashkenazi said he checked into the words of the Chida and he learned through all the works on Mishlei and concluded that the Chida was quite correct. He once had a dream to write a whole work on Mishlei, he even started to pen his comments in a special notebook, but the plans never worked out.

One final last story about R’ Ashkenazi’s bibliographic acumen. In 2009 my special friend Dr. S. Sprecher z”l (about him see this article on the seforim blog here) wished to reprint and distribute a small work called Tshuvah Be’Inyan Kriat HaKetubah, in honor of his son’s upcoming wedding, under that assumption that, just as the title page and the publisher’s introduction indicated, it represented an actual Halakhic Responsum issued in 1835 by the Chief Rabbi of Bialystok, one Rabbi Nechemiah. Sprecher wrote:

However, our close reading of this Tshuvah led us in an entirely different direction. To us, the work’s style manifested clear Maskilic echoes, and its arguments rejecting the binding nature of centuries-old Minhagim were clearly not in accord with 19th–century Halakhic thought. Our reaction was that the work must certainly be pseudepigraphal and could not have arisen from the pen of the Chief Rabbi of Bialystok. In fact, a quick perusal of the reference literature demonstrated that there never was any Chief Rabbi of Bialystok named Nechemiah.

At an impasse, we reached out to Professor Shnayer Z. Leiman, who suggested that the scholar most likely to solve the mystery would be the doyen of Israeli bibliographers, Rabbi Shmuel Ashkenazi. We were rewarded thanks to the tireless efforts of Eliezer Brodt who, on our behalf, pestered the aged Jerusalem sage until he successfully unmasked the name, but not quite the identity, of the author. Rabbi Ashkenazi concluded that the first line of the introductory poem that prefaced the Halakhic query contained the acrostic – “Meir Ish-Shalom”. (His initial contention was that this could not be the noted 19th–century Viennese scholar, Meir Ish-Shalom, because his heretofore known literary output began only some five years later, with his publication of the Sifre in 1864.)

Once Rabbi Ashkenazi had provided the key to the author’s name via the acrostic, it became apparent that all along the title page had been proclaiming that very same message. Let us recall the passage in Bavli Eruvin 13b where it is recorded that the celebrated Tanna, known to us as Rabbi Meir, was actually named Nehorai, according to one opinion; or alternatively, that both Meir and Nehorai were laudatory appellations reflecting his enlightening wisdom, whereas his actual name was Nechemiah. Recall also that the query first originated with Rabbi “Shalom” of Novgorod, and the word “shalom” appears twice more on the title page and is highlighted by the placement of a circle above one of its appearances.

In his copy of this work that Dr Sprecher printed for the Chasunah which I brought him, I found this paper inside:

A few weeks after R’ Ashkenazi’s Petirah the national library held a session devoted to him where Professor Zev Gries, Professor Chava Turniansky and R’ Yechiel Goldhaber spoke about him (here is a link to the whole session). I too had the privilege of being interviewed about him that night (Here is a link to my interview).

Publication of his writings

Last year, immediately after Rabbi Shmuel Ashkenazi was niftar I, along with my special friend Menachem Butler, initiated a campaign to raise funds to publish R. Ashkenazi’s letters via the Seforim blog. Baruch HaShem, and thanks to the help of some readers, enough money was raised to go to print and in the beginning of this past January copies of the book, coming in at over 1,700 pages, (three volumes!) arrived as announced (here). The Letters sold out in a few days. A second edition was printed right before Pesach (see here). Currently copies of the second edition are available for sale.

Future volumes

Already during the Shivah, R’ Stahl began going through the materials of R’ Ashkenazi to sort out what materials are print worthy.

Here is a picture of R’ Stahl taken during one such session which a friend of his humorously put side by side a famous picture of Solomon Schecter when working on Geniza documents.

Cherubim: Winged Celestial Beings on the Title-Pages of Early Hebrew Books
by
Marvin J. Heller^[1]

 

And having driven out the man, He stationed at the east of the Garden of Eden the Cherubim and the flame of the ever-turning sword, to guard the way to the Tree of Life (Genesis 3:24).

You shall make two Cherubim of gold—hammered out shall you make them—from both ends of the cover. You shall make one cherub from the end at one side and one Cherub from the end at the other; from the cover shall you make the Cherubim at its two ends. The Cherubim shall be with wings spread upward, shielding the Cover with their wings with faces toward one another; toward the cover shall be the faces of the Cherubim being turned toward the cover. (Exodus 25: 18-20).

Rav Ketina said: When the Jewish people would ascend for one of the pilgrimage festivals, the priests would roll up the curtain for them and show them the cherubs, which were clinging to one another, and say to them: See how you are beloved before God, like the love of a male and female (B.T. Yoma 54a).

Cherubim (angels) are a frequent presence on the title-pages of early Hebrew imprints in the sixteenth century and afterward, the latter beyond the scope of this article. They are also to be found in incunabula, on the frames of initial pages and head-pieces for text.

How do you define what are cherubim? One definition, that of the Encyclopedia Judaica, is “a winged celestial being which appears in the Bible in several different guises.” It then proceeds to give several descriptions of cherubim. The Jewish Encyclopedia begins with a more detailed description, stating cherubim are “the name of a winged being mentioned frequently in the Bible. The prophet Ezekiel describes the cherubim as a tetrad [set of four] of living creatures, each having four faces—of a lion, an ox, an eagle, and a man—the stature and hands of a man, the feet of a calf, and four wings.”^[2]
The use of cherubim is also noted in the 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica where they are described as “imaginary winged animal figures of a sacred character, referred to in the description of Solomon’s temple (1 Kings vi. 23-35, vii. 29, viii. 6, 7), and also in that of the ark of the tabernacle (Ex. xxv. 18-22, xxvi. 1, 31, xxxvii. 7-9). . . . In Gen. iii. 24 the cherubim are the guards of Paradise . . .”^[3]
The frequency of the appearance of cherubim in Hebrew literature can be found on Sefaria, a bibliography of Jewish texts, which records fifty-six entries for cherubim under biblical, Mishnah 27, and Talmud 991. Among other entries are Midrash, 590; Halakhah 7947; Kabbalah 747; and yet still others as well as multiples of commentaries on the first works.^[4]

These multi-winged creatures are also a feature in general literature. Franz Sales Meyer, under the heading Miscellaneous heads, describes the “Angel faces, youthful heads, with a circular or disc-like halo, are first met-with in the Byzantine style, as the result of ecclesiastic articles,” He continues that in the early Italian Renaissance such renderings were charmingly naïve. They appeared as adornments on friezes and arches, medallions, and in borders. They also are to be found on tombs and are “Much used in Modern ecclesiastical decorations.” The text is accompanied by a page of examples of the cherub head, including one of a skull.^[5]

It had been my intention to describe Hebrew title-pages with images of cherubim over a period of two centuries.^[6] The numerous instances of such usage, however, has necessitated a considerable limiting of our subject period. Indeed, rather than noting all the examples in our current period, in the sixteenth century, we only describe several exemplars, giving background about the books in which they appear, that is, the publisher, author, and book subject.^[7] This article is expansive, that is, in describing cherubim, it discusses the varieties of Hebrew literature, the authors of the subject works, the presses that published them, and even Hebrew book history. The title-pages and infrequent text pages with displays of cherubim addressed here are in chronological order, but from diverse locations and, again, on a variety of books, indicative of how widespread Hebrew publishing was and even more so the depth and nature of Hebrew literature.^[8]

1514-18, Hameshei Humshei Torah – Our first work with the appearance of cherubim is a folio (2⁰) edition Hameshei Humshei Torah (Pentateuch) with haftorat and commentary of Rashi printed in 1514-18 in Prague at the press of Gershom ben Solomon ha-Kohen and partners. Gershom later received a royal privilege from King Ferdinand of Bohemia, allowing him, that is Gershom alone, to enjoy a monopoly on Hebrew printing in Prague. His descendants, known as the Gersonides, continued to print in Prague until the mid-seventeenth century.

1514, Hameshei Humshei Torah
Courtesy of the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary

A magnificent edition, with ornate woodcut frames and large type for the text. Each book has a unique decorative opening page, there is no title page, comprised of four separate pieces, those on the pillared sides with vases, leaves, and cherubim, similar but not identical, the top piece with a concave bottom edge. Genesis has a convex curved piece to fit with this top piece on the upper half of the page, with winged cherubim holding a shield with the spread hands of the Kohen giving the priestly blessing.^[9]

Work on the Pentateuch began on 10 Sivan (June 14, 1514) but, perhaps as a result of the success of the prayer book, the partners found they had overextended themselves and found it necessary to suspend work on this project for two years. In 1530 Gershom and his sons reprinted this Pentateuch in an identical format, except for changes to the decorated initial pages.

1527, Dictionarium Chaldai – Our next entry with cherubim is an Aramaic grammar by the Christian-Hebraist scholar Sebastian Muenster (1489-1552). It was printed in Basle in 1527 at the press of Johannes Froben in quarto format (4⁰: [1], 434, [7] pp.). The Froben family was the most significant printers of Hebrew books in Basle. Johannes Froben published as many as 250 titles, among them Hebrew/Latin books of the Bible and grammatical works, primarily works by Muenster.

Sebastian Muenster, a cosmographer, astronomer, and orientalist was, for twenty three years, professor at Basle. Born in Niederingelheim, Hesse, the son of a Spitalmeister (hospital master), Muenster had no university education nor did he ever receive a degree. His education consisted of some private instruction in Latin and later studies at Frieberg and attendance at lectures given by the Franciscans. In 1506, Muenster entered the Minorite order and was sent to study in Rufach under Conrad Pellican (Pellicanus, 1478-1556). The following year he took vows and, in 1512, was ordained a priest. Muenster assisted Pellican in teaching in Pforzheim and, from 1524-29, occupied the chair of Hebrew at the University of Heidelberg. In 1529, Muenster converted to Protestantism and moved to Basle, where he occupied the chair of Hebrew, at a salary of 60 gulden; from 1547/8 he was rector. From about 1525, Muenster was a student of Elijah Levita, translating and editing his grammatical works. Muenster also translated a number of other Hebrew works into Latin and was a prolific author in his own right. By the time of his death more than 100,000 volumes of his works were in circulation. His Jewish oeuvre, more than three-score publications, covers all aspects of Judaica, excepting Kabbalistic studies, which did not interest him. In 1523, Muenster published Dictionarium Hebraicum . . . adiectis Chaldaicis vocabulis, his study of the Aramaic language. The book reads from left to right but the text follows the Hebrew alphabet. Words are given in vocalized Hebrew, followed by their etymology, definition and examples.

The title page of the Dictionarium Chaldai has an architectural frame with cherubim in various positions, as well as additional cherubim below mounted and otherwise. This title page, designed by Hans Holbein, was used as early as 1516 on Basel statutes and into the seventeenth century.^{[10] [11]}

Not long afterwards, from 1540 through 1543, at least five titles were printed in three locations with varied images of cherubim on the title-page, that is Augsburg, Prague, and Bologna. That is not to say these frames were not used on other books, most likely they were, but rather these are examples of cherubim used by the printers of Hebrew books at the time.

Augsburg has an early history related to Hebrew printing. Several early anti-Jewish works beginning with the apostate Johannes Pfefferkorn’s Der Judenfeind (1509) and other anti-Semitic books by apostates were published there. Another early Augsburg publication of note, this certainly more positive, albeit not a Hebrew edition of that popular and much republished work, is the first printing of R. Joseph ben Abraham Gikatilla’s (1248–c. 1325) kabbalistic classic, Sha’arei Orah, which explains and analyzes the ten Sefirot. This edition of Sha’arei Orah is a Latin translation of that work by the apostate Paulus Ricius (Paulus Israelita, 1480-1541) under the title Portae lucis, published in 1516 at the press of Johann Miller.

1527, Dictiorionarim Chaldai
Courtesy of the Fales Library and Special Collections, New York University

Serious Hebrew printing in Augsburg begins when Hayyim ben David Shahor, among the pioneers of Hebrew printing outside of Italy, came to Augsburg in about 1533/34. In Augsburg, Schwarz worked in the print shop of Silvan Otmar (d. 1540), a renowned and highly productive printer, and resided in the home of Bonifacius Wolfhart, a Protestant pastor who also served as the censor of Hebrew books for Augsburg.^[12] Shahor printed several works in conjunction with his son, Isaac, and his son-in-law, Joseph ben Yakar, who assisted him at the press, although their names are not mentioned on the title-pages.^[13]

Shahor likely joined with a non-Jewish printer, perhaps August Wind, a printer of Hebrew works for Christian clergyman. Hayyim left for Italy, returning to Augsburg in 1540. He then printed three books, Avkat Rokhel, Arba’ah Turim and a prayer book for, according to the Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book, a total of ten works in Augsburg. Due to a lawsuit by an apostate, Paulus Aemilus, with whom Shahor had been associated in Ferrara, resulting from their failed venture, Shahor and his family were forced to cease publication and leave Augsburg. Aemilus, seeing a market in Augsburg for Hebrew/Yiddish books, began to print on his own account. He issued a small number of titles, most notably the Melokhim Bukh (1543) and the Shmuel Bukh (1544), Yiddish poetical renditions of the books of Kings and Samuel, both with images of cherubim (below).^[14]

1540, Avkat Rokhel – Our first Augsburg title is Avkat Rokhel, an eschatological work on the principles of faith attributed to R. Machir ben Isaac Sar Hasid, a student of R. Judah ben Asher, son of the Rosh. Printed in octavo format (8⁰: 18 ff.), perchance by Shahor. The Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book attributes it, albeit in brackets, to Hayyim Shahor, in contrast to the National Library of Israel that records the printer as unknown.^[15]

The text of the title page is set within a decorative frame with nineteen cherubim and a number of animals. The title-page states that it is,

Sefer Avkat Rokhel

Printed by the printers named at the end of the volume. Edited with great care, with all our ability, “the good hand of our [Lord] upon us,” (ref. Ezra 8:18). And it was completed, here Augsburg, the great city, with the help of the Lord and His salvation. In the year, “[Rejoice, O you nations, with his people; for he will avenge the blood of his servants,] and will render vengeance to his adversaries, and will make expiation כפר (300=1540) for the land of his people” (Deuteronomy 32:43).

The names of the printers, Hayyim Shahor, Isaac ben Hayyim, and Joseph ben Yakar, the statement on the title page notwithstanding, are not given at the end of the volume. A brief introduction informs that the work was named Avkat Rokhel (the perfumer’s powders, Song of Songs (3:7)) for as the perfumer’s powders strengthen the soul, so too when one reads this book will he fear and cause his soul to be pure and free from all sin and transgression, thus meriting the good.

1540, Avkat Rokhel
Courtesy of the Dorot Jewish Division New York Public Library

The like title-pages of Avkat Rokhel and Unterricht Wie ain Christenmensch, the latter a non-Hebrew work printed approximately two decades earlier, reflect a relationship between Jewish and Christian printers, that is, Christian printers published Hebrew books in association with Jewish associates. The relationship between the printers was mutually beneficial. For the Christian publisher “the Hebrew books sector, being unique, was attractive to investors, being more limited and not so wildly competitive as the Italian book sector.”^[16] In addition to the non-Jewish printer’s access to the Jewish book market, the Jewish publisher was able to not only publish Hebrew books, but he also gained access to the typographical material of his Christian associate. The latter, for example, frequently provided attractive frames to the former after having used them for his market and the Jewish partner also utilized the printer’s other ornamentation. This was of value to the Jewish partner as he did not have to go the expense of having decorative material prepared, at a relatively much greater expense as it would be utilized for a much smaller market. This despite the fact that the frames were often incompatible with traditional Jewish sensibilities.^[17]

1521, Unterricht Wie ain Christenmensch ^[18]

The like title-pages of Avkat Rokhel and Unterricht Wie ain Christenmensch, the latter a non-Hebrew work printed approximately two decades earlier, reflect a relationship between Jewish and Christian printers, that is, Christian printers published Hebrew books in association with Jewish associates. The relationship between the printers was mutually beneficial. For the Christian publisher “the Hebrew books sector, being unique, was attractive to investors, being more limited and not so wildly competitive as the Italian book sector.”^[19] In addition to the non-Jewish printer’s access to the Jewish book market, the Jewish publisher was able to not only publish Hebrew books, but he also gained access to the typographical material of his Christian associate. The latter, for example, frequently provided attractive frames to the former after having used them for his market and the Jewish partner also utilized the printer’s other ornamentation. This was of value to the Jewish partner as he did not have to go the expense of having decorative material prepared, at a relatively much greater expense as it would be utilized for a much smaller market. This despite the fact that the frames were often incompatible with traditional Jewish sensibilities.^[20]

The title-page of Avkat Rokhel has the largest number of cherubim of our title-pages, nineteen in all, of our title-pages. The cherubim appear on the bottom, sides, and top of the frame, all active, albeit in different activities. The text of Avkat Rokhel is in three parts, each further subdivided. The first section addresses the struggle against one’s evil urge prior to redemption and the birth pangs and advent of the Messiah, and an explanation of the pertinent midrashim; the second part discusses the rewards and punishments of the soul after the resurrection, the nature of the world to come according to Judaism, in contrast to the views of non-Jews, and resurrection; and the third part the laws stated by the sages of the Talmud as halakhah Moshe me-Sinai, the formation of man and the number 248 limbs in a person, the statement of our sages concerning three partners in that process (God, man, and woman) and some gematriot.

This is the third edition of Avkat Rokhel, it having been printed previously in Constantinople (1516) and Rimini (1526). Ch. B. Friedberg records, in his Bet Eked Sepharim, more than twenty-five printed editions of Avkat Rokhel. It was translated into Latin by A. Hulsius and printed in his Theologia Judaica, (Breda, 1653) and a Yiddish edition was prepared by Naphtali Pappenheim (Amsterdam, 1647).^[21]

1543, Melokhim Buch – Two additional works printed in Augsburg, attributed to Moses (Esrim ve-Arbeh) Ashkenazi, are Yiddish poetical renditions of the books of Kings and Samuel. Moses’ appellation, Esrim ve-Arbeh (24), derives from either his birthplace, Vierundzwanzig Hoefe (24 courts) in Wuerttemberg, or from his extensive knowledge of the 24 books of the Bible. Moses’ accreditation with either authoring or transcribing the Melokhim Bukh is due to its similarity to the Shmuel Bukh, more reliably attributed to him. Nevertheless, sufficient differences exist between the two works that many scholars believe they do not share a common author. It is clear, however, that the author, even if not this Moses, was an Ashkenazi Jew. The Melokhim Bukh was published in quarto format (4⁰: [123] ff.) by, according to the colophon, Paulus Aemilus. A Latin colophon states, Augustae Vindelicorum/ per Paulum Aemilium, Anno/ Domini M. D. XLIII. Meyer Waxman suggests that it is doubtful, the colophon notwithstanding, that the publisher was Aemilus; more likely it was Hayyim Shahor.

We have noted above that the frames on these title-pages were first used by Christian printers and that when that market no longer needed the frames, they were made available to Jewish printers. The cherubim frames noted above were generally acceptable to a contemporary renaissance Jewish public, although some, many, were questionable and would not be used today. In contrast, the title-page of the Melokhim Buch has a border made up of a four-part frame, the top with a representation of a king, the left and right sides respectively with images of Adam and Eve, unclad, the latter with the snake, two small children, and expecting. At the bottom are two cherubim. Use of this frame is surprising, for in contrast to other frames its’ contents appear to be objectionable, more so than other frames, even those with mythological characters. It seems likely that this frame might also be distasteful to Christian sensibilities.^[22]

1543, Melokhim Buch
Courtesy of Dr. Moshe Rosenfeld

The title page states that it is “The book Melokhim (Kings) in Taytsher sprach, beautiful and clear and very entertaining to read. Printed in the imperial city of Augsburg in the year 303 (=1543)” ^[23] The colophon dates the completion of the work to Friday, 14 Av, 303 (July 25, 1543), which was a Sunday in 1543.

The Melokhim Bukh was not written as a sequel to the Shmuel Bukh. It is the older of the two books, originally written as a separate work, possibly as early as the fourteenth century. The format of the Melokhim Bukh, a rhymed paraphrase of the book of Kings, is that of the heroic epic, stylistically modeled after comparable German sagas, such as the Nibelungen. The subject matter is the events in Kings I and II, imaginatively and colorfully enhanced by material from the Talmud and Midrashim, all expressed with a deep piety. Intended as a complete history, it begins with a hymn of praise to God in three strophes followed by nine strophes from the Exodus to the last days of David, the contents of Kings, and as a sequel, the history of the Jews to the end of the second commonwealth in thirty strophes). An example of the text is,

You have frequently performed signs for the children of Israel;

Therefore they are obliged to have You for their Lord.

And to fear Your name-that is useful and good for them.

That man is foolish who acts contrary to Your word.^[24]

1544, Shmuel Bukh – The Shmuel Bukh was published, also likely by Hayyim Shahor in quarto format (Format 4⁰: [102] ff.). It has an ornate title page made up of figurines above and about pillars with cherubim on the sides. It too is in Vaybertaytsh; among its reprints is a Latin edition (Ingolstadt,(1562). Waxman suggests that the Shmuel Bukh was likely written at least a hundred years earlier, most likely an original production of medieval Jewry. The author reworked the biblical material and incorporated aggadic elements. It was written in “vigorous poetic style” in eight line strophe and was meant to be sung.^[25]

1544, Shmuel Bukh
Courtesy of Dr. Moshe Rosenfeld

In contrast to what was written above, “works that many scholars believe they do not share a common author,” Zinberg informs that both the Melokhim Bukh and the Shmuel Bukh are composed in the same verse-meter. Moreover, the title-page states that “Shmuel is the first part of

the book Melokhim, for it is all related.” Nevertheless, Zinberg quotes other sources that “these are two quite different works and were probably written by two different poets.”^[26]

1553, Ma’yan Gannim – A composition book comprised of sample letters from R. Samuel ben Elhanan Jacob Archivolti (c. 1515-1611). Ma’yan Gannim was published in a small sextodecimo format (16⁰: 45, [1] ff.) at the Venice press of Alvise Bragadin. The Bragadin press was active before the papal bull, dated August 22, 1553, by Cardinal Giovanni Pietro Caraffa, the future Pope Paul IV, an extreme reactionary and bitter anti‑Semite, who ordered the confiscation and burning of the Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmuds. This had a chilling effect on Hebrew printing and resulted in a considerable decline if not outright cessation of printing in Venice, and the subsequent expurgation and censorship of Hebrew books. When Hebrew printing resumed in Venice in 1563, among the Christian printers who took up the publication of Hebrew books was Alvise Bragadin. Bragadin died in the mid-1570’s, he was succeeded by his son, and after him by successive members of the family well into the eighteenth century, the last known Bragadin being Alvise III. Throughout that time the press remained a leading printer of Hebrew books in Venice.

1553, Ma’yan Gannim
Courtesy of the Library of Agudas Chassidei Chabad Ohel Yosef Yitzhak

Archivolti, a student of R. Meir Katzenellenbogen (Maharam, 1473-1565), served as rabbi, av bet din, and rosh yeshivah in Padua. Among his students was R. Judah Aryeh (Leon) Modena (1571-1648). Prior to settling in Padua in 1568, Archivolti worked as a corrector for the Hebrew presses in Venice.

In contrast to our preceeding examples of cherubim, this exemplar does not appear on the title-page of the book, which has the Bragadin device, that is, three crowns, but rather at the beginning of each of the book’s five chapters, a woodcut illustration comprised of three cherubim in a cage, surrounded on all four sides by a verse.

The title is from “A fountain of gardens (ma’yan gannim), [a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon” (Song of Songs 4:15). The text states that there are fifty letters, that is, twenty-five letters with their responses, written by Archivolti. There is a preface and introduction from Archivolti, followed by a table of contents, and, beginning on 7a, the text. Ma’yan Gannim is the first book written by Archivolti, for he describes it as his first fruits, an offering to the Lord. Archivolti also wrote Degel Ahavah (Venice, 1551), an ethical work; He’arot le-Sefer he-Arukh (Venice, 1553), textual references for the Arukh of Nathan ben Jehiel; and, his most important title, Arugat ha-Bosem (Venice, 1602) a grammatical work in 32 chapters.

The sections or chapters, each on a different theme, are correspondence between a father and son; between friends; from an older to a younger man; with government officials; and others, including letters of a romantic, and even sensual nature. Such letters, at the very least inappropriate by modern religious standards, are intermingled with those of a sacred nature, reflecting contemporary mores and addressing current issues, including therefore, information of historical and cultural value. Ma’yan Gannim is designed to teach through example the rules of correspondence. The letters are in metrical form, designed by Archivolti as literary models, many with ethical content, for his students.^[27]

1556, She’ilot u’Teshuvot Jacob ben Moses Moellin (Maharil) – Two hundred and five responsa from R. Jacob ben Moses Moellin (Maharil, c. 1360-1447). The She’ilot u’Teshuvot were published in Cremona at the press of Vincenzo Conti in octavo format (8⁰: [7] 79 ff.). After the Talmud was burned in Venice in 1554 there was a precipitous decline, if not a complete cessation, in the number of Hebrew books printed in Venice for several years. The breach was filled by presses in Ferrara, Sabbioneta, Cremona, and Riva di Trento. Vincenzo Conti (d. 1569) printed briefly in Sabbioneta and subsequently in Cremona, where his press was active from 1556 to 1567, issuing more than forty titles.

Maharil was the leading halakhic authority of his time. His most important work is Sefer Maharil (Minhagei Maharil, 1556, Sabbioneta), a popular and influential work on customs and laws. It was composed by his pupil Eleazar ben Jacob (Zalman of St. Goar), from the discourses that he heard from Maharil. She’ilot u’Teshuvot is comprised of Two hundred and five responsa, a small part only of Maharil’s responsa. The subject matter, as in the Sefer Mahril, deals to a great extent with custom, but also includes much personal material. They also reflect Maharil’s considerable humility and compassion.

1556, She’ilot u’Teshuvot Jacob ben Moses Moellin (Maharil)
Courtesy of the Library of Agudas Chassidei Chabad Ohel Yosef Yitzhak

The title-page has an ornamental frame made up of four parts, enabling the printer to use them in other arrangements, although this is the manner in which the parts are most often employed. The top frame has the face of a man and cherubin; on the sides are suits of armor, shrubs, and musical instruments and, in the center of the left vertical frame the letters SPQR, reputedly standing for Senatus Populusque Romanus; and on the bottom a two headed crowned eagle and on the sides the cherubim. This frame was used by Conti on his early imprints, appearing on about ten works.

1558, Sefer Rav Alfas – Sefer Rav Alfas, (Hilkhot Rav Alfas, Sefer ha-Halakhot of Alfasi, Rif) was published in Riva di Trento by R. Joseph Ottolenghi and Cardinal Cristoforo Madruzzo in a three volume folio format (2⁰: 288, 268, 302 [8] ff.). The Tyrolese town of Riva di Trento is the source of an unusual episode in the history of the Hebrew book. It was for a short time, from 1558 to 1562, a refuge for the Hebrew book; one in which about forty Hebrew titles were printed. Believed to be the first work printed in Riva di Trento, Hilkhot Rav Alfas was likely selected, in addition to its inherent popularity and value, due to the ban on the Talmud, the Rif, being a halakhic compendium of the Talmud, filling, to some extent, the gap left by the scarcity of that work.

It was in Riva di Trento that Cardinal Cristoforo Madruzzo (1512-78), Cardinal of Trent, a scholar and supporter of learning, who argued at the Council of Trent (1562) for leniency and moderation in condemning books, became the patron and protector of a Hebrew press, which was also a source of revenue for him. Ottolenghi (d. 1570), originally of Ettlingen, in Baden, Germany, reflected in its Italianized form in his name, was rosh yeshivah at Cremona, and under his tutelage Talmudic studies had continued in Cremona after that work had been banned and burned elsewhere. He assisted the press, providing indices and annotations to a number of works and assuring that material offensive to the church had been deleted from those books of value to his yeshiva. and R. Jacob Marcaria, a dayyan on the bet din presided over by Ottolenghi and a physician, recruited by Madruzzo help finance and play a role in the press. Marcaria edited and wrote brief prefaces for most of the books printed in Riva di Trento. The press was located in the house of Antonio Broën.

Sefer Rav Alfas is a halakhic compendium by R. Isaac ben Jacob Alfasi (Rif, 1013-1103). Alfasi, born in the Algerian village of Qal’at Hammad, was a student of the great sages R. Nissim ben Jacob (c, 990-1062) and Hananel ben Hushi’el (d. c. 1055) in Kairouan. After learning with them Alfasi relocated to Fez, from where his surname al-Fasi (Rif) is derived, and became recognized as the leading Talmudic sage of the time. In 1088, at the age of 75, two informers denounced him to the government – the charges are unknown – and he was forced to flee to Spain. Eventually settling in Lucena, Alfasi succeeded R. Isaac ben Judah ibn Ghayyat (c. 1020-89), who had died a few months earlier, as head of the yeshiva.

1558, Sefer Rav Alfas
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

The text of the title-page of each volume has cherubim at the sides, and below bears the Cardinal’s coat‑of‑arms , a significant statement of the Cardinals’ support and protection of the press at a time when his church was burning and banning Hebrew books. Furthermore, the title pages informs that Sefer Rav Alfas was edited with great care by the gaon R. Joseph Ottolenghi and was printed and financed by him, and that this was done, “in the dominion of” the following in bold letters “Cardinal Cristoforo Madruzzo.”

Sefer Rav Alfas, Alfasi’s major work, is one of the greatest works in halakhic literature. It is extracts all pertinent legal decisions from the Talmud, eliminating non-halakhic material, discussions, and subject matter not applicable today. It covers the following orders of the Talmud, Mo’ed, Nashim, and Nezikim, as well as tractates Berakhot and Hullin. Laws in Kodashim and Tohorot, such as mezuzah and tefillin, are organized as Halakhot Ketannot. Sefer Rav Alfas differs from earlier works, such as Halakhot Gedolot, in that it is more comprehensive, more detailed, and by the inclusion of material from the geonim, although, like them, it follows the order of the tractates.

1559-60, Zohar – Classic kabbalistic work of Jewish mysticism, attributed to R. Simeon bar Yohai (second century). This, the second printing of the Zohar, it was published previously in Mantua (1558-60), published in Cremona at the press of Vincenzo Conti in a three volume folio format (2⁰: 132, 122, 146 ff.) by Vincenzo Conti (d. 1569). Conti, who had printed briefly in Sabbioneta, is better known for his activity in Cremona, where his press, active from 1556 to 1567, issued more than forty titles.

The title page of has a decorative architectural frame with an arch, at the top a vignette of Akedat Yizhak (the binding of Isaac), surmounted by an eagle, and accompanying cherubim; below in the bottom squares, figurines, perchance also cherubim. It is dated, “For the Lord will not forsake כי לא יטש (319=1559) his people [for his great name’s sake] (Samuel I 12:22), and it was completed in the year ש”ך ([5]320=1560).” At the bottom of the page is an imprimature from the Inquisition on the title page, the sole Cremona imprint to place it there, as well as a longer permission at the end of the book.

1559-60, Zohar
Courtesy of the Library of the Jewish theological Seminary

Written in Aramaic and Hebrew, Sefer ha-Zohar al ha-Torah is a comprehensive system of kabbalistic theosophy, encompassing cosmology, the soul, and good and evil. It is an esoteric commentary on the Torah, with homilies, midrashic passages, parables, and numerous discursive passages. It is based on the concept that within scriptures is a concealed stratum, deciphered by Kabbalah, expressing the inner meaning of the Torah, with its “splendor, beauty, and greatness.”

The corrector (and expurgator) was the apostate Vittorio Eliano, grandson of the foremost grammarian, Elijah Bahur Ashkenazi Segal. A member of a Dominican commission to review Hebrew books, Eliano was associated with all the books published by Conti from 1558 through 1559. Although begun later than the Mantua edition, noted above, this printing, done in haste, was completed earlier. Nevertheless, it was not immediately released for sale, for when more than 10,000 Hebrew books were burned in Cremona, with the complicity of Eliano, the entire edition was seized. It was just barely saved, in contrast to other works, by the apostate Dominican, Sixtus of Siena. It is known as the Zohar Gadol (large Zohar), in contrast to the smaller Mantua edition (Zohar Katan), and is also referred to, because of Eliano’s involvement, as the “Christian edition.” This notwithstanding, the Cremona edition was the preferred of the two editions by eastern European kabbalists.^[28]

1560, Shir ha-Yihud – Shir ha-Yihud (Hymn of Divine Unity) an anonymous piyyut (liturgical poem) written in the mid-twelfth century, most often attributed to Samuel ben Kalonymus he-Hasid (c. 1130-1175), less often to his son, Judah ben Samuel he-Hasid (c. 1150-1217), author of the Sefer Hasidim, both among the foremost representatives of the Hasidei Ashkenaz, and, on occasion, to yet others.

Shir ha-Yihud
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

Shir ha-Yihud was published at the press of Eliezer and Joseph ben Naphtali Hertz Treves. Active for one year only, in 1560, they issued six books, before being forced to close by a meeting of the leaders, both Protestant and Catholic, of the Swiss Confederation in June, 1560, who feared that they were about to print the Talmud.

The frame, one of several with cherubim employed by the press, also was used on the title-page of Begidat Hazman, an allegoric maqāma (a poetic narrative in rhymed prose) by Mattathias (Mattityah ben Moses), a 15th century Spanish or Provençal Hebrew poet or Mattathias ha-Yiẓhari, a representative of the Jewish communities of Aragon at the Tortosa disputation (1413–14).

1568, Passover Haggadah – Passover Haggadah printed in Mantua in folio format (2⁰: 36 ff.) by Joseph Shalit ben Jacob Ashkenazi of Padua. This edition is a reprint of the 1560 Passover Haggadah, also printed in Mantua, but with modifications and the addition of the marginalia of R. Joseph Shalit ben Jacob Ashkenazi of Padua entitled Nimukei Yosef.

1568, Passover Haggadah
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

The title page frame has representations of the Mars and Minerva followed by the first text page, which has two woodcuts of cherubim along the top. Following text pages have those cherubim image, as well as numerous other cherubim images, including several marginal cherubim images. This Haggadah shares some features with the Prague Haggadah of 1526. Woodcuts are accompanied by captions, given as rhymed couplets, a feature of Ashkenaz manuscript Haggadot. In some instances, for example, by the four questions, the earlier edition was framed by a lush Italian border, without illustrations. Here the types and the top and upper left borders with their vines and cherubs only are alike.^[29]

1576, Yosef Lekah – Yosef Lekah is a commentary on Megillat Esther by R. Eliezer ben Elijah Ashkenazi (1513-86). It was published in Cremona in 1576 by Christopher Draconi in octavo format (4⁰: 83, 1 ff.). Draconi, previously associated with Vincenzo Conti, attempted to publish Hebrew books in Cremona. Although he would issue Latin books from 1569 to 1614, he printed one Hebrew book only, Yosef Lekah.

1576, Yosef Lekah
Courtesy of the Fales Library and Special Collections, New York University

R. Eliezer ben Elijah Ashkenazi was a multi-faceted individual, a Talmudist, physician, and well-rounded scholar, who served as rabbi in a number of varied communities. His first rabbinic position, from 1538-61, was in Fostat, Egypt. Forced to leave Fostat, Ashkenazi went to Famagusta, Cyprus, where he was rabbi for two years, and then to Venice. He left for Prague (1561), after a dispute with the Maharam of Padua, and after traveling as far as the Crimea, returned, via Famagusta, to Venice. Ashkenazi was next rabbi in Cremona, where he published Yosef Lekah. Shortly after he left to be rabbi of Posen, and, from 1584, was in Cracow. Ashkenazi experienced difficulties in Poland, disputing over his right to open a yeshiva in close proximity to an existing yeshiva, so that Joseph Solomon Delmedigo (1591-1655) wrote about him, “You have brought a vine from Egypt; you have cast out the nations, and planted it” (Psalms 80:9). Ashkenazi was highly regarded by his contemporaries, corresponding with prominent rabbinic figures such as R. Joseph Caro, R. Joseph Ha-Kohen (Katz), R. Moses Isserles (Rema), and R. Solomon Luria (Maharshal), several mentioning him in their responsa. R. Elijah of Pesaro, in Famagusta in 1563, praised Ashkenazi’s scholarship, noting that he was fluent in twelve languages.

The title-page has four cherubim images, two reclining at the top of the structure, two standing erect by the pillars at the sides. The title-page is dated “Therefore they called these days Purim קראו לימים האלו פורים (336 = 1576)” (Esther 9:26). Yosef Lekah is dedicated to Don Joseph Nasi, Duke of Naxos, whom Ashkenazi, in the introduction, compares to Joseph in Mizraim and Mordecai at the time of Ahasuerus. Ashkenazi, therefore, entitled this work Yosef Lekah. Two, almost identical, editions of Yosef Lekah exist, both dated 1576. Although almost exact copies of the original, it is clear, upon close examination, that the book was reset. Christopher Draconi’s Yosef Lekah was the last Hebrew book printed in Cremona.

Ashkenazi’s most important work is Ma’aseh HaShem (Venice, 1583), on the historical occurrences in the Torah, with a commentary on the Passover Haggadah; selichot; and, not extant today, a super-commentary on the Ramban (Nachmanides) and annotations to R. Caro’s Beit Yosef.^[30]

Conclusion – In this article we have described books printed in Augsburg, Basle, Cremona, Mantua, Prague, and Venice. The cherubim imagery on these title-pages, reflecting the influence of Renaissance humanism, their attractiveness notwithstanding, do not appear on the title-pages or accompanying the text in Hebrew books published in more modern times. A review of the title-pages reproduced here, all dissimilar, with their numerous depictions of cherubim, attest to the popularity of that image. Given the strictures on Hebrew printing from the mid-sixteenth century in Italy, the frequent use of cherubim testify to the cooperation of Jewish and non-Jewish printers, their frequency perchance suggesting a positive relationship going beyond mere monetary gain.

We conclude with the Talmudic statement above, which suggests why the image of cherubim was so popular:

Rav Ketina said: When the Jewish people would ascend for one of the pilgrimage festivals, the priests would roll up the curtain for them and show them the cherubs, which were clinging to one another, and say to them: See how you are beloved before God, like the love of a male and female. (Yoma 54a)

Lastly, in conclusion an image of a cherub, both chronologically and, in cherubian activity, quite different from those depicted in this article. It is included as it is unusual and eye catching, an image of a Cherub smoking a pipe. It appears in in at least two Basle imprints published by Israel ben Moses ben Abraham Halle, active in Offenbach, although not continuously, from 1718/19 to c. 1738/43. The works are Anaf Etz Avot, R. Benjamin ben Yekutiel Wulff’s commentary on Pirke Avot, and tractate Sanhedrin (1721).^[31]

1. Once again, I would like to express my gratitude and appreciation to Eli Genauer for reading the article and his insightful comments. ↑
2. Emil G. Hirsch, W. Muss-Arnolt, J. Frederic McCurdy, Louis Ginzberg, “Cherub ( ; plural, Cherubim)” Jewish Encyclopedia IV (New York, 1901-06), pp. 13-16; Shalom M. Paul, Louis Isaac Rabinowitz, “Cherub” Encyclopedia Judaica IV (Jerusalem, 2007), pp. 600-01. ↑
3. Thomas Kelly Cheyne, 1911 Encyclopædia Britannica, Volume 6, reproduced in https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/1911_Encyclop%C3%A6dia_Britannica/Cherubim ↑
4. https://www.sefaria.org/search?q=%D7%9B%D7%A8%D7%95%D7%91%D7%99%D7%9D&tab=text&tvar=1&tsort=relevance&svar=1&ssort=relevance. ↑
5. Franz Sales Meyer, Handbook of Ornament: a Grammar of Art, Industrial and Architectural Designing in all its Branches for Practical as well as Theoretical use (New York, 1957), pp. 108-09. ↑
6. Codices and early imprints did not have title-pages, the first leaf normally being left blank to protect the book, that page later becoming a dedicated page. The first book with a detailed title-page was the Calendarium of Johannes Regiomontanus, appearing in 1476 (Venice), being a fifty-five year calendar (1475-1530), printed by Johannes Regiomontanus. The first Hebrew book with a title-page was the Sefer ha‑Roke’ah (Fano, 1505) of R. Eleazar ben Judah of Worms (c. 1165 – c. 1230). ↑
7. Cherubim also appear on the frames of Hebrew books printed in the incunabular period. For examples of such frames see Marvin J. Heller “Behold, you are beautiful, my love: The Use of Ornamental Frames in Hebrew Incunabula” Printing History NS 10 (New York, July, 2011), pp. 39-55, reprinted in Further Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Leiden/Boston, 2013), pp. 3-33. ↑
8. The following book descriptions are selected, modified from Marvin J. Heller, The Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus ( Brill, Leiden, 2004), var. cit. ↑
9. Avraham Yaari, Hebrew Printers’ Marks (Jerusalem, 1943), pp. 7 and 126-27 n. 10 [Hebrew]. ↑
10. Jerome Friedman, The Most Ancient Testimony. Sixteenth-Century Christian-Hebraica in the Age of Renaissance Nostalgia (Athens, Ohio, 1983), pp. 44-48, 214-15; A. M. Habermann, Title Pages of Hebrew Books (Tel Aviv, 1969), p. xi [Hebrew with English introduction], pp. 19-20, 125-26 nos. 4-5; Joseph Prijs, Die Basler Hebräischen Drucke (1492-1866) (Olten, 1964), pp. 49-51 n. 26; Frank Rosenthal, “The Rise of Christian Hebraism in the Sixteenth Century,” Historia Judaica II (New York, 1945), (New York, 1945), pp. 182-91; and Richard S.Westfall, “Sebastian Muenster,” http://es.rice.edu/ES/humsoc/Galileo/Catalog/Files/muenster.html ↑
11. An interesting example of this later usage is R. Moses ben Hanokh Altschul’s (c. 1546–1633) Brant Shpigl, a popular Yiddish work on ethics, correct demeanor, and customs for women, published by Konrad Waldkirch (Basle, 1602), also indicative of the passage of typographic material between printers. ↑
12. Stephen G. Burnett, “German Jewish Printing in the Reformation Era (1530-1633),” University of Nebraska – LincolnUniversity of Nebraska – Lincoln DigitalCommons@University of Nebraska – LincolnDigitalCommons@University of Nebraska. ↑
13. Ch. B. Friedberg, History of Hebrew Typography of the following Cities in Central Europe: Altona, Augsberg, Berlin, Cologne, Frankfort M., Frankfort O., Fürth, Hamberg, Hanau, Heddernheim, Homberg, Ichenhausen, Neuwied, Wandsbeck, and Wilhermsdorf. Offenbach, Prague, Sulzbach, Thannhausen from its beginning in the year 1513 (Antwerp, 1935), pp. 29-31 [Hebrew]. ↑
14. A. M. Habermann, “The Printer Hayyim Shahor, his Son Isaac and Son-in-law Joseph Yakar,” in Studies in the History of Hebrew Printers and Books (Jerusalem, 1978), pp. 103-07 [Hebrew]. ↑
15. Yeshayahu Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book. place, and year printed, name of printer, number of pages and format, with annotations and bibliographical references II (Jerusalem, 1993-95), p. 2 no. 10 [Hebrew]. ↑
16. Zipora Baruchson, “Money and Culture: Financing Methods in the Hebrew Printing Shops in Cinquecento Italy,” La Bibliofilia 92 (1990), 25. ↑
17. For examples of such usage see Marvin J. Heller, “Behold, you are beautiful, my love: The Use of Ornamental Frames in Hebrew Incunabula” Printing History NS 10 (New York, July, 2011), pp. 39-55, reprinted in Further Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book. (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2013), pp. 3-33; “Mars and Minerva on the Hebrew Title Page,” The Papers of the Bibliographical Society of America 98:3 (New York, N. Y., 2004), pp. 269-92, reprinted in Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2008), pp. 1-17; and the “The Printer’s Mark of Marc Antonio Giustiniani and the Printing Houses that Utilized It,’ Library Quarterly, 71:3 (Chicago, July, 2001), pp. 383-89, reprinted in Studies, pp. 44-53. ↑
18. Unterricht Wie ain Christenmensch by Urbanus Rhegiosu (1489-1541), a Protestant Reformer active in Northern and Southern Germany promoting Lutheran unity in the Holy Roman Empire. Unterricht is one of several titles with this frame printed by Silvan Otmar of Augsburg (https://www.flickr.com/photos/58558794@N07/6576279085). ↑
19. Zipora Baruchson, “Money and Culture: Financing Methods in the Hebrew Printing Shops in Cinquecento Italy,” La Bibliofilia 92 (1990), 25. ↑
20. For examples of such usage see Marvin J. Heller, “Behold, you are beautiful, my love: The Use of Ornamental Frames in Hebrew Incunabula” Printing History NS 10 (New York, July, 2011), pp. 39-55, reprinted in Further Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book. (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2013), pp. 3-33; “Mars and Minerva on the Hebrew Title Page,” The Papers of the Bibliographical Society of America 98:3 (New York, N. Y., 2004), pp. 269-92, reprinted in Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2008), pp. 1-17; and the “The Printer’s Mark of Marc Antonio Giustiniani and the Printing Houses that Utilized It,’ Library Quarterly, 71:3 (Chicago, July, 2001), pp. 383-89, reprinted in Studies, pp. 44-53. ↑
21. Ch. B. Friedberg, Bet Eked Sepharim, (Israel, n. d), alef 286 [Hebrew]. ↑
22. A later example of an objectionable title-page is the responsa of R. Joel ben Samuel Sirkes’ (Bach, 1561-1640), She’elot u-Teshuvot Bayit Hadash, printed in Frankfurt am Main (1697) by Johann Wust. The title-page had an ornate frame with forms of unclad women which aroused rabbinic opposition, for those authorities considered the title-page inappropriate and offensive to Jewish sensibilities. The quire had to be reprinted with a new title-page, now with two cherubim holding a floral wreath with grapes. A similar situation occurred earlier in Hanau in 1630. Sefer ha-Roke’ah, by R. Eleazer of Worms, was issued in a small format, 12×16 cm., due to the economic restrictions resulting from the Swedish War. On the title-page “Venus rises naked from the waters on a seashell – a common pagan motif” (The book was issued by a press belonging to a non-Jew, Hans Jacob Hena, so that, it has been suggested, no attention was initially given to the title-page. When the book was sold, “many Jewish purchasers tore out the offending page” (Raphael Posner and Israel Ta-Shema, ed. The Hebrew Book: An Historical Survey [Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House, 1975]). There does not appear to have been any opposition to this last title-page in Venice, for the Venus rising from the waters motif appears in Hebrew works printed there, where it was the press mark of Alessandro Gardoni (Venice, 1577-78) and can be found in the Mishneh Torah printed by Meir Parenzo at the press of Alvise Bragadin in 1574. ↑
23. Taytsher sprach (Vaybertaytsh), is a type generally but not exclusively reserved for Yiddish books, so named because these works were most often read by the less educated and women. Concerning the early use of Vaybertaytsh see Herbert C. Zafren, “Variety in the Typography of Yiddish: 1535-1635,” Hebrew Union College Annual LIII (Cincinnati, 1982), pp. 137-63. ↑
24. Israel Zinberg, A History of Jewish Literature, translated and edited by Bernard Martin VII (Cleveland, 1973), p. 116.
    ↑
25. Meyer Waxman, A History of Jewish Literature (1933, reprint Cranbury, 1960), II pp. 632-33. ↑
26. Zinberg, p. 106. ↑
27. Robert Bonfil, Jewish Life in Renaissance Italy (Berkeley, 1994), tr. Anthony Oldcorn, pp. 133, 169; Deror Schwartz, “Samuel Archivolti, his Life and Writings,” Asufot VII, ed. Meir Benayahu (Jerusalem, 1993), pp. 82-83 [Hebrew]; and Zinberg, II p. 130. ↑
28. Amram, pp. 324-27; Robert Bonfil, “Change in the Cultural Patterns of a Jewish Society in Crisis: Italian Jewry at the Close of the Sixteenth Century,” in Essential Papers on Jewish Culture in Renaissance and Baroque Italy, ed. David B. Ruderman (New York, 1992), p. 418; Rachel Elior, “Messianic Expectations and Spiritualization of Religious Life in the Sixteenth Century,” in Essential Papers . . ., p. 286. ↑
29. Yaari, Printers’ Marks, pp. 12, 132 n. 19; Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi, Haggadah and History (Philadelphia, 1975), nos. 28-31; and Isaac Yudlov, The Haggadah Thesaurus. Bibliography of Passover Haggadot: From the Beginning of Printing until 1960 (Jerusalem, 1997). p. 4 n. 25 [Hebrew]. ↑
30. David Amram, The Makers of Hebrew Books in Italy (Philadelphia, 1909, reprint London, 1963), p. 319; Meir Benayahu, Hebrew Printing at Cremona: Its History and Bibliography (Jerusalem, 1971), pp. 22-24, 232-34; and Jacob Elbaum, Openness and Insularity. Late Sixteenth Century Jewish Literature in Poland and Ashkenaz (Jerusalem, 1990), p. 47, [Hebrew]. ↑
31. This image appeared in my article “Offenbach Revisited: An enigma Reexamined,” published in the Gutenberg-Jahrbuch (Mainz, 2012), pp. 219-28, and reprinted in Essays on the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2021) pp. 273-92. It was noted there that “in his observations to a draft of this paper, Professor Dr. Hans Schneider observes that he has never seen ‘a cherub smoking a pipe’ and suggests that if the figure is an angel the instrument is a flute. He agrees, however, that the object in question does look like a clay pipe as in the self-portrait of Gerrit Dou. Professor Dr. Schneider suggests that the figure might be an oriental man or boy, as was often painted in the seventeenth and eighteenth century, wearing a turban-like cap with plumes, and that what appears to be an angel’s wings might be a fluttering cape. The reader may draw his or her own conclusions.” ↑

The Birkhat ha-Mazon as an Early Modern Supplementary Prayerbook

Morris M. Faierstein Ph.D.

morrisfaierstein.academia.edu

The opportunity to meet the liturgical needs of the Jewish community in the age of printing presented both possibilities and problems for the publishers and printers who wished to publish prayerbooks. Unlike biblical and rabbinic texts that were the same for all Jewish communities, prayerbooks were very diverse with different communities having their own rites and sub-rites. Another problem was what to include and what not to include in the text of given prayerbook. To include everything that one might need for the whole cycle of the year, was not practical as one sixteenth century printer explained in his introduction:

“Observing that the material in this work is constantly increasing, that it is attaining the size of the Shulhan Arukh … and has become too cumbersome to be carried into the synagogue, the present publisher, with a pure heart, decided to print the siddur in two volumes, the first to contain the daily prayers, and the second the prayers for the holy days. This arrangement will enable one to purchase either part, as he may desire.”[1]

In addition to the division of the prayerbooks into one for the daily and weekly prayers and a second volume for the annual holidays, more specialized texts were published like Kinot for the Ninth of Ab, and the Passover Haggadah. The subject of this study is a subgenre of the daily /weekly prayerbook. It is called Birkhat ha-Mazon or Siddur Berakhah[2] but is very different from the modern publications of this name. The Early Modern prayerbook typically had the regular prayers but did not include all the other prayers and rituals that were not part of the synagogue services but still played an important role in Jewish religious life. The Seder Tefillot, as it was commonly called, contained the standard prayers for the morning [Shaharit], afternoon [Minchah] and evening [Ma’ariv] services for weekdays and Sabbaths, and occasionally added the special prayers for the New Moon [Rosh Hodesh]. These prayerbooks also had to be adjusted to the specific rite of its intended market. The Ashkenazi prayerbook usually came in either the Ashkenazi rite, which meant Germany, and the Polish rite,[3] which covered the area from Bohemia eastward to Poland and Lithuania. These prayerbooks did not normally include the special prayers for holidays. To solve this problem, another genre of prayerbook was created, called the Mahzor. This was not the large medieval Mahzor that contained the whole cycle of the year’s prayers along with rules and laws.[4] Rather it was small book that contained those parts of the High Holiday and Festival services that were unique to those occasions and not included in the standard prayerbook. Jacob ben Abraham of Meseritz, who published a Mahzor in 1599 describes the situation that he saw that convinced him of the need publish his Mahzor. He writes in his preface:

Blessed be the Lord, God of Israel, forever and ever, who helped me to print small Mahzorim for the whole year according to the Ashkenazi Rite, in order to benefit the public. I saw the great need for every Jew, and particularly in this time when Jews travel and make journeys from land to land, city to city, and place to place, with merchandise and for other needs. I decided to print a small Mahzor to lighten their load, and it should be in the hands of everyone. In particular, the visitors to the fair in the holy community of Frankfurt, on the three Pilgrim Festivals and the High Holy Days. It should be in their hands, to bring it with them to the holy community, to the fair where God has been gracious to me, and to fulfill their [religious] obligations in this way. I saw with my own eyes, the visitors standing outside the synagogue, running back and forth, and not paying attention to the cantor reciting the piyyutim. The reason for this is that each person does not have a Mahzor in their hand. Therefore, I was awakened, and many householders in the holy community of Frankfurt agreed with me, to print this Mahzor so that it will be in the hands of everyone, like this small prayerbook. With it, everyone will be able to fulfill their [religious] obligation.[5]

Another group of prayers and rituals that were missing from the Early Modern prayerbook were a whole variety of prayers and rituals that were not part of the normal prayer service but were integral to Jewish religious life. To meet the need for a collection of these prayers, another type of prayerbook which contained the prayers and rituals of Jewish life, was created, called, Birkhat ha-Mazon or Seder Berakhot.[6] This subgenre of prayerbook has not been the subject of previous scholarly study. The term Birkhat ha-Mazon has come to refer in the modern world to a small pamphlet containing the Grace after meals [Birkhat ha-Mazon] along with Sabbath songs and occasionally some other additions. The Early Modern Birkhat ha-Mazon was a much larger and more significant source of religious rituals and prayers. It was the repository for the prayers and rituals that were not part of the statutory daily prayers but were integral to the cycle of Jewish life and the rhythms of the Jewish calendar.

This study of the Early Modern Birkhat ha-Mazon as a supplementary prayerbook is preliminary for several reasons. First and foremost, it is based on a sample and not on a comprehensive survey of every work bearing this title. There are at least 25-30 editions of books entitled Birkhat ha-Mazon and Siddur Berakhot that can be found in the classic bibliographies of the Hebrew Book that are not included in this study.[7] A certain percentage of these are the small pamphlet that only includes the Birkhat ha-Mazon and some Sabbath songs, like the modern pamphlets of this name. My sample consists of twenty-four editions that I was able to download and examine the complete text. The publication dates ranged from 1563 to 1780. Seventeen editions are titled Birkhat ha-Mazon and are Ashkenazi in their ritual. All of these editions are bilingual, Hebrew-Yiddish. Six other editions were published in Italy and represent the Ashkenazi (3), Sephardi, Italian, and Rome (one each) rites. These editions are all in Hebrew but may have directions or brief discussions applicable laws and rules in a different language.[8] The last edition is the most unusual. It was published in Amsterdam in 1640 and has Hebrew and Spanish texts on facing pages.[9] The editions I chose to study were based on availability. The parameters were from the beginning of printing until 1800. I included every edition that I was able to find digitized and readable online or downloadable, so that a thorough description of the contents would be possible. Each edition included in this study is described in the Appendix.

The selection of prayers that were included in all of these editions, Ashkenazi, and Italian/Sephardi, are more or less similar. All of them include Festival prayers that are not part of the synagogue liturgy and prayers for the major life cycle events. Beyond that there is some variation in the exclusion or addition of prayers that were not as central. The sequence of some of the prayers also varies, but these variations are not of consequence for this study. They are editorial decisions made by the printer. The most significant difference between the two groups is the bilingualism of the Ashkenazi editions. All of them are bilingual, with most of the prayers translated into Yiddish along with the Hebrew originals. Occasionally a prayer or group of prayers will only be in Hebrew. Most commonly, the prayers relating to the circumcision ceremony and the redemption of the firstborn are only in Hebrew. On the other hand, the prayers relating to the wedding ceremony are usually translated. This is understandable, since in the first two cases, a rabbi or specialist officiates and translation of the prayers is not important, since everyone understands what is happening and why. On the other hand, people who are not fluent in Hebrew might have an interest in the meaning of the blessings that are part of the wedding ceremony.

The prayers of the Italian/Sephardi editions are completely in Hebrew and do not have translations. Even the Italian edition for the Ashkenazi rite does not have Yiddish translations of the prayers. All of the sixteenth and seventeenth century editions have instructions only in Hebrew. The two eighteenth century editions, published in 1737 and 1739, for the Italian and Ashkenazi communities in Italy respectively, have instructions in Italian, in the Latin alphabet. Most unusual is the Amsterdam, 1640 edition, which has a long Introduction in Spanish, and the text is completely translated with facing pages of Hebrew and Spanish. This edition was prepared for the recently organized community in Amsterdam whose members had a low level of Hebrew knowledge, which explains the variation for the Spanish–Portuguese community in Amsterdam.

Another interesting question is the introduction of kabbalistic elements, which were introduced into different communities at different times and ways. The earliest kabbalistic influence is found in the Venice, 1623. It includes the three Sabbath hymns attributed to Rabbi Isaac Luria. They were to be sung at the beginning of the three Sabbath meals, one for each meal. These hymns were mentioned only once more, for a second time in the Venice, 1739 Seder Berakhah. The Ashkenazi Birkhat ha-Mazon has no explicit kabbalistic material before the Frankfurt am Oder, 1753 edition. It includes for the first time the suggestion to sing Shalom Aleichem and Eshet Hayil before the Friday night meal.[10] The Prague, 1773 edition also recommends these two hymns and]adds the suggestion to recite Psalm 137 before the Birkhat ha-Mazon during the week and Psalm 126 instead on the Sabbath and Festivals.[11]

The question of Early Modern Ashkenazi bilingualism needs some clarification. There was a clear division between public worship and private worship and study. Public worship was only in Hebrew and the prayerbooks published for worship were only in Hebrew, though many did have brief instructions in Yiddish. On the other hand, Yiddish was a tool for study and was acceptable for private prayers by women and others who might not understand the meaning of the Hebrew prayers. Tehinnot, prayers of petition, in Yiddish are well known and both women and even men would pray in Yiddish at appropriate occasions.[12] However, when one moves into the realm of the texts used for public worship, prayerbooks and Humashim, to follow the Torah reading in the synagogue, are always in Hebrew. At most we find prayerbooks that have brief instructions in Yiddish.

There are a few prayerbooks and Humashim that might challenge this conclusion and need to be considered. I found three editions of Yiddish prayerbooks in the course of my research that should be considered. The oldest published Yiddish prayerbook was published by Joseph ben Yakar in Ichenhausen, 1555. The Introduction makes it clear that it was published for women who did not understand Hebrew, so that they could study it and understand the meaning of the prayers.[13]The second prayerbook was published in Mantua in 1562 and reprinted in Venice, in 1599. This prayerbook is unusual in that it was bilingual, Hebrew and Yiddish. It was the only one that I could find that was bilingual. The printer offers very little in the way of explanation for the publication. He writes in the title page, “Prayer book for the whole year, in Hebrew and Yiddish, the like of which you have never seen. men and women will see that nothing is missing. Blessed be the one who made it for us with such skill.”[14] Similarly, there were Humashim published in Yiddish, but they too were for personal study or for educational use to teach children. They could not have been used to follow the Torah reading in the synagogue.[15]

The purpose of this preliminary study has been to establish the existence of the Birkhat ha-Mazon/ Siddur Berakhah as a distinct subgenre within the broader category of Jewish liturgical texts. Many questions remain about these texts. Why do the particular prayers vary from edition to edition? Are there things that should have been included that were not, and vice versa? What is their place in Jewish society? The editions published in Western and Central Europe are bilingual, while the Italian editions are only in Hebrew. We know that Ashkenazi Jews in Italy abandoned Yiddish for Italian as early as 1600.[16] Sephardi and Roman Jews in Italy bever used Yiddish. Was Yiddish a liturgical language or just a language of study is an important question. A preliminary conclusion is that was used as a language of study and private prayer, but Hebrew remained the language of public prayer. There are other questions that may be of interest to experts in the history of Jewish prayer and its development. These remain for further research and study.

Birkhat ha-Mazon Editions

The majority of editions do not have a Preface, colophon or other paratexts beyond the title page. In the few case where these items are found, they will be included. Some editions are illustrated. This has been noted. The list of prayers in each individual work follows the sequence found in that edition. It is worth noting that there is no standard order, as one finds in Hebrew prayerbooks.

Libraries where the digitized editions are found.

Basel – University of Basel Library, online
FKT – Digitized Yiddish book collection, University of Frankfurt, online
HB – Hebrewbooks.org
NLI National Library of Israel, digitized books, online

Part I. Birkhat ha-Mazon editions. All of these editions have all or a majority of the prayers in both Hebrew and Yiddish. Occasionally, a few prayers are only in Hebrew.

1. Prague, 1580? [NLI][17]

2. Contents.

1. Title page is missing. 2. Begins in middle of Zemirot. 3. Havdalah. 4. 5. Hanukkah. 6. Song for Shabbat Hanukkah. 7. Purim Song. 8. Purim Reshut. 9. Wedding ceremony. 10. Circumcision ceremony. 11. Redemption of the first born. 12. Eruv Tavshilin. 13. Kapparot. 14. Visiting the cemetery on the eve of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. 15. Shema before sleeping. 16. Kiddush for Pesach, Shavuot, Sukkot. 17. Passover Haggadah. Ends ¾ through the Haggadah, end is missing. [95 pages]

2. Basel, 1600. [Basel]
1. Title Page.

Birkhat ha-Mazon

Songs printed in Hebrew and in Yiddish that the women understand what they are blessing or what the songs say, and also the blessings that they are obligated to recite over all food, before and after. Also, over wine, and over fruit, and all drinks. I also added the Four Questions [the Passover Haggadah], which has not yet been found in any bentshen, and also how we do things on Passover, as will be shown below.

Commissioned by Jacob son of Abraham, of blessed memory, Tihinger, along with Jacob son of Abraham, of blessed memory, Pollak, who is called Jacob the Bookseller, from the land of Reisen, from the holy community of Mezeritz of Lithuania, near Brisk.,
Here in Basel the great city.
At the press of Konrad Waldkirch and household.
In the year, “Bestow Your faithful care on those devoted to You”[18] [360] in the small counting.

2. Preface.

I, Jacob ben Abraham, may his memory be for a blessing, the writer, have published this Yiddish bentshen for all pious women. Therefore, dear ladies, pay attention to me and buy the book quickly, so that I may rush home to my wife and children as soon as possible, for I have been in German lands for three years. I pray to God that my children are not ashamed by the fact that I carried around books. I hope that no one will speak badly of me. I behaved well in this endeavor, and I was held in esteem by others. My name is Jacob the bookseller; I am known throughout the German lands. I hope to have a good reward for fulfilling the commandment from this. In all the communities they ask for me, when will the bookseller come here, so that he might bring us books? At home, I did not have, because of our many sins, anything to eat, when I was in the land of Reisen. However, in Germany, God almighty did not forget my need. I hope to Him that I will also not, heaven forbid, forget Him. Therefore, I have had this Yiddish bentshen published. Your heart will rejoice in it. I hope you will always think well of me when I will be far from you. Therefore, dear ladies, buy it quickly from me, so that I will soon be able to run to my wife and children, since I have been away too long. My wife and children will be worried about me. With this you will be worthy that you will soon come to the Holy Land. This prays your servant, Jacob Pollack, bookseller.

3. Contents.

1. Psalm 23. 2. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 3. Zemirot. 4. Havdalah. 5. Hanukkah. 6. Purim songs. 7. Purim Reshut. 8. Wedding ceremony. 9. Eruv Tavshilin and Eruv Hazerot. 10. Kapparot. 11. Prayers for visiting Cemetery. 12. Circumcision ceremony. 13. Shema at Bedtime. 14. Sabbath Kiddush. 15. Kiddush for Rosh Hashanah. 16. Kiddush for Pesach, Shavuot, Sukkot. 17. Havdalah for festivals when the second day is a Sabbath. 18. Passover Haggadah. 19. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. 20. Al ha-Michyah. 21. Tehinnah for women to be recited after candle lighting on Friday night. [150 pages]

3. Wilhermsdorf, 1687. [NLI – Has Illustrations].

1. Title Page.

Seder Birkhat ha-Mazon

The Zemirot printed in Hebrew and in Yiddish. The Ma Nishtana [Haggadah] also beautifully and finely printed with all of the illustrations, as in the large Haggadot, with good paper and ink: As we find in the Italian Haggadot with Yiddish on the side, much nicer than the previous ones. With many laws in Yiddish on the side: This was newly produced.

Under the rule of our lord, Baron Wolfgang Julius, General Field Marshall, His Highness, May his lordship be glorified and magnified, and he have long life, amen selah.
Printed here in the holy community of Wilhermsdorf
By the printer, Isaac son of Leib Yudel’s Katz, of blessed memory, of the Gershuni family.
“Satisfy us with Your Goodness”[19][447], in the small counting.

2. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Zemirot. 3. Havdalah. 4. Hanukkah. 5. Song for Shabbat Hanukkah. 6. Purim songs. 7. Purim Reshut. 8. Wedding ceremony. 9. Circumcision ceremony. 10. Redemption of the First Born. 11. Eruv Tavshilin and Hazerot. 12. Kapparot. 13. Shema for bedtime. 14. Passover Haggadah. 15. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. [104 pages]

4. Dyhernfurth, 1692. [HB – Has Illustrations.]

1. Title Page.

Seder Birkhat ha-Mazon

The Zemirot printed in Hebrew and in Yiddish. The Ma Nishtana [Haggadah] also beautifully and finely printed with all of the illustrations, as in the large Haggadot, with good paper and ink: As we find in the Italian Haggadot with Yiddish on the side, much nicer than the previous ones. With many laws in Yiddish on the side: This was newly produced.[20]

Printed here in Dyhernfurth
By the noble Rabbi Shabbetai Bass, may his Creator protect him, from Prague:
Printed in the year, “Please, my blessing” [452], in the small counting.
Cum Licentia Superiorum

2. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Zemirot. 3. Havdalah. 4. Hanukkah. 5. Purim. 6. Wedding ceremony. 7. Circumcision ceremony. 8. Eruv Tavshilin and Hazerot. 9. Kapparot. 10. Shema for bedtime. 11. Kiddush for Sabbath and Festivals. 12. Passover Haggadah. [100 pages]

5. Wilhermsdorf. 1694 (?).[20] [Basel – Has Illustrations.]

1. Title Page.

Seder Birkhat ha-Mazon

The Zemirot printed in Hebrew and in Yiddish. The Ma Nishtana [Haggadah] also beautifully and finely printed with all of the illustrations, as in the large Haggadot, with good paper and ink: As we find in the Italian Haggadot with Yiddish on the side, much nicer than the previous ones. With many laws in Yiddish on the side: This was newly produced.

Under the rule of our lord, Baron Wolfgang Julius, General Field Marshall, His Highness, May his lordship be glorified and magnified, and he have long life, amen selah.
Printed here in the holy community of Wilhermsdorf
By the printer, Isaac son of Leib Yudel’s Katz, of blessed memory, of the Gershuni family.

2. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Zemirot. 3. Havdalah. 4. Hanukkah. 5. Song for Sabbath of Hanukkah. 6. Purim. 7. Wedding ceremony. 7. Circumcision ceremony. 8. Redemption of the Firstborn. 9. Eruv Tavshilin and Hazerot. 10. Kapparot. 11. Shema for bedtime. 12. Kiddush for Sabbath and Festivals. 13. Passover Haggadah. 14. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. [100 pages]

6. Frankfurt a. Main, 1696. [NLI].

1. Title Page.

Birkhat ha-Mazon for Satiety and not for Hunger

Bless us, Lord our God

This Bentshen is printed according to the customs of Ashkenaz and Poland together, so that everyone should be able to understand the Hebrew and the Yiddish with ease. Therefore, you pious men and women, look at this new Bentshen. Nothing like it has been printed before, with Vayishlach and Ribono shel Olam that we recite Saturday night.

The flower of the staff ,in the small counting.
Aaron of the house of Levi [456]
Printed in Frankfurt am Main
In the new Press of Juspa Tadir Katz

2. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Zemirot. 3. Havdalah. 4. Hanukkah. 5. Purim Reshut. 6. Wedding ceremony. 7. Circumcision ceremony. 8. Redemption of the firstborn. 9. Eruv Tavshilin and Hazerot. 10. Kapparot. 11. Prayers for visiting cemetery. 12. Prayers for visiting cemetery before High Holy Days. 13. Tehinnot on the eve of the High Holy Days. 14. Shema for bedtime. 15. Kiddush for Sabbath and Festivals. 16. Passover Haggadah. 17. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. [95 pages]

7. Frankfurt a. Oder, 1701. [NLI –Has Illustrations.]

1. Title Page.

Seder Birkhat ha-Mazon

The zemirot printed in Yiddish. The Ma Nishtana [Haggadah] also beautifully and finely printed with all of the illustrations, as in the large Haggadot, with good paper and ink: As we find in the Italian Haggadot with Yiddish on the side, much nicer than the previous ones. With many laws in Yiddish on the side: This was newly produced.

Printed in the year 461, in the small counting.
Here in the holy community of Frankfurt am Oder
Under the rule of our lord, His Majesty, king of Prussia, Fredrick the Third, and Grand Duke of Brandenburg. May God elevate his majesty and his kingdom, higher and higher, amen.
Printed in the press of the noble Michael Gottschalk:
Commissioned by the noble Rabbi Gershon Wiener from Frankfurt am Oder:

2. Contents.

1. Psalm 23. 2. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 3. Zemirot. 4. Havdalah. 5. Hanukkah. 6. Shabbat Hanukkah. 7. Purim Reshut. 8. Wedding ceremony. 9. Circumcision ceremony. 10. Redemption of the firstborn. 11. Eruv Tavshilin and Hazerot. 12. Kapparot. 13. Shema at bedtime. 14. Kiddush for Sabbath, Rosh Hashanah, and Festivals. 15. Havdalah when second day is Saturday night. 16. Passover Haggadah. [115 pages]

8. Amsterdam, 1701. [NLI].

1. Title page.

Birkhat ha-Mazon

This Bentshen is printed according to the customs of Ashkenaz and Poland together, so that everyone should be able to understand the Hebrew and the Yiddish with ease. Therefore, you pious men and women, look at this new Bentshen. Your children will rejoice when they read in this Bentshen. Through this you will be worthy to soon come into the land of Israel. May the Messiah of David come speedily in our days. Amen, so may it be His will:

In Amsterdam
In the House of and commissioned by the young man Emanuel son of the venerable Joseph Athias, of blessed memory
“Then Israel sang this song”[Exodus, 15:1], in the small counting [461]

2. Contents.

1. Psalm 23. 2. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 3. Zemirot. 4. Havdalah. 5. Hanukkah. 6. Shabbat Hanukkah. 7. Purim songs and Reshut. 8. Wedding ceremony. 9. Circumcision ceremony. 10. Redemption of the firstborn. 11 Eruv Tavshilin and Hazerot. 12. Kapparot. 13. Prayers for visiting cemetery. 14. Prayers for visiting cemetery before Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. 15. Shema at bedtime. 16. Kiddush for Sabbath, Rosh Hashanah, and Festivals. 17. Passover Haggadah. 18. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. 19. Tehinnah for women to be recited after candle lighting on Friday night. 20. Yiddish prayer to be recited every day before the prayers. 21. Additional prayers after Havdalah. 22. Counting the Omer. [143 pages]

9. Amsterdam, 1702. [NLI].[22]

1. Title page.

Birkhat ha-Mazon

The Bentshen according to the custom of Ashkenaz and Poland

We have had it printed anew, with many more blessings and accompanying laws. Also, translated the zemirot completely differently. This is because much was missing in previous translations. Therefore, everyone laments that that they cannot have any understanding from the Yiddish translation. I hired someone who made the rhymes so that one should be able to sing them with one’s own tune, very beautifully. For women and maidens who do not understand Hebrew. each law is placed separately. It will be a wonder for the one who reads it. I have not spared any money, and all the mistakes from the previous Bentshen corrected, and everything has been placed in its proper order. The has never been anything like it in the world. I know that everyone will be well pleased, and nobody will be disappointed with what he paid for it.

Commissioned by the young man, Solomon son of Rabbi Joseph Katz, of blessed memory, Proops, bookseller.
In Amsterdam
In the House of the young man Emanuel son of the venerable Joseph Athias, of blessed memory
In the year, “The writing was God’s writing” [Exodus, 32:16], [462]

2. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Tehinnah for women to be recited after candle lighting on Friday night. 3. Kiddush for Sabbath. 4. Zemirot. 5. Havdalah. 6. Hanukkah. 7. Shabbat Hanukkah. 8. Purim songs. 9. Wedding ceremony. 10. Circumcision ceremony. 11. Redemption of the firstborn. 12. Eruv Tavshilin. 13. Kapparot. 14. Prayers for visiting cemetery. 15. Prayers for visiting cemetery before Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. 16. Shema at bedtime. 17. Kiddush for Rosh Hashanah, and Festivals. 18. Passover Haggadah. 19. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. 20. Yiddish prayer to be recited every day before the prayers. [141 pages]

10. Frankfurt a. Main, 1713. [FKT].

1. Title page.

Birkhat ha-Mazon for Satiety and not for Hunger
The Bentshen according to the custom of Ashkenaz and Poland

Set very evenly to live by it. At the end as at the beginning nothing has been spared. Beautiful print and paper. It will not be too expensive for anyone, sharply printed and beautiful, so that the women and maidens will be able to understand. No money has been spared for it, and many mistakes corrected. One will see that not much remained standing. I did what I could, and with this it has an end. The Holy One should send us the Messiah soon, and the exile should soon be removed from us, speedily in our days. May the Lord our God bless us. Amen, so may it be His will:

Printed here in the holy community of Frankfurt am Main, with the fonts of
Amsterdam
In the year, “When you have eaten your fill, give thanks to your God” [Deuteronomy, 8:10], in the small counting

2. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Kiddush for Sabbath. 3. Zemirot. 4. Havdalah. 5. Hanukkah. 6. Shabbat Hanukkah. 7. Purim songs. 8. Wedding ceremony. 9. Circumcision ceremony. 10. Eruv Tavshilin. 11. Kapparot. 12. Prayers for visiting cemetery. 13. Shema at bedtime. 14. Kiddush for Rosh Hashanah, and Festivals. 15. Passover Haggadah. 16. Passover Haggadah. 17. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. 18. Prayers for Kiddush ha-Levanah. [93 pages]

11. Amsterdam, 1722. [NLI – Has Illustrations].

1. Title Page.

Birkhat ha-Mazon
According to the custom of Ashkenaz and Poland
The Bentshen

We have had it printed anew, with many more blessings and accompanying laws. Also, translated the zemirot completely differently. This is because much was missing in previous translations. Therefore, everyone laments that that they cannot have any understanding from the Yiddish translation. We have made the rhymes in Yiddish so that one should be able to sing them, with one’s own tune, very beautifully, and it will please everyone. For women and maidens who do not understand Hebrew. Each law is placed separately. It will be a wonder for the one who reads it. I have included much more in this printing. One can see everything in it, how many illustrations are in it, and to honor the Holy One. In order that children become accustomed to like the commandments. Everything is placed in order, and it’s like has not yet been seen in the world.

In Amsterdam
Commissioned by and at the press of
Rabbi Solomon son of Rabbi Joseph Katz, of blessed memory, Proops, bookseller.
In the year, “The Lord your God will bless all your enterprises” [Deuteronomy, 14:29], in the small counting [482]

2. Colophon.

This expanded Bentshen and all sorts of books, which make it exceptional. It can be purchased from the printer himself, the famous bookseller, Rabbi Solomon, Katz, may His Creator protect him, Proops, living in the Broad Street in Amsterdam.

3. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Tehinnah for women to be recited after candle lighting on Friday night. 3. Kiddush for Sabbath. 4. Zemirot. 5. Havdalah. 6. Hanukkah. 7. Shabbat Hanukkah. 8. Purim. 9. Wedding ceremony. 10. Circumcision ceremony. 11. Redemption of the firstborn. 12. Eruv Tavshilin and Eruv Hazerot. 13. Kapparot. 14. Prayers for visiting cemetery. 15. Prayers for visiting cemetery before Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. 16. Shema at bedtime. 17. Kiddush for Rosh Hashanah, and Festivals. 18. Passover Haggadah. 19. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. 20. Yiddish prayer to be recited every day before the prayers. [141 pages]

12. Amsterdam, 1723. [HB – Has Illustrations].[23]

1. Title Page.

Birkhat ha-Mazon
According to the custom of Ashkenaz and Poland
The Bentshen

We have had it printed anew, with many more blessings and accompanying laws. Also, translated the zemirot completely differently. This is because much was missing in previous translations. Therefore, everyone laments that that they cannot have any understanding from the Yiddish translation. We have made the rhymes in Yiddish so that one should be able to sing them, with one’s own tune, very beautifully, and it will please everyone. For women and maidens who do not understand Hebrew. Each law is placed separately. It will be a wonder for the one who reads it. I have included much more in this printing. One can see everything in it, how many illustrations are in it, and to honor the Holy One. In order that children become accustomed to like the commandments. Everything is placed in order, and it’s like has not yet been seen in the world.[24]

In Amsterdam
In the house and press of
Rabbi Isaac, son of, Jacob De Cordova bookseller
In the year, “All who are inscribed for life in Jerusalem” [Isaiah, 4:3], in the small counting [483]

2. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Tehinnah for women to be recited after candle lighting on Friday night. 3. Kiddush for Sabbath. 4. Zemirot. 5. Havdalah. 6. Hanukkah. 7. Shabbat Hanukkah. 8. Purim. 9. Wedding ceremony. 10. Circumcision ceremony. 11. Redemption of the firstborn. 12. Eruv Tavshilin and Eruv Hazerot. 13. Kapparot. 14. Prayers for visiting cemetery. 15. Prayers for visiting cemetery before Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. 16. Shema at bedtime. 17. Kiddush for Rosh Hashanah, and Festivals. 18. Passover Haggadah. 19. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. 20. Yiddish prayer to be recited every day before the prayers. [142 pages]

13. Frankfurt a.M., 1727. [HB – Has Illustrations].

1. Title Page.

Birkhat ha-Mazon
According to the custom of Ashkenaz and Poland
The Bentshen

We have had it printed anew, with many more blessings and accompanying laws. Also, translated the zemirot completely differently. This is because much was missing in previous translations. Therefore, everyone laments that that they cannot have any understanding from the Yiddish translation. We have made the rhymes in Yiddish so that one should be able to sing them, with one’s own tune, very beautifully, and it will please everyone. For women and maidens who do not understand Hebrew. Each law is placed separately. It will be a wonder for the one who reads it. I have included much more in this printing. One can see everything in it, how many illustrations are in it, and to honor the Holy One. In order that children become accustomed to like the commandments. Everything is placed in order, and it’s like has not yet been seen in the world.[25]

Printed here in the holy community of Frankfurt am Main
Commissioned by and published by the printers
Rabbi Zalman, son of, Rabbi David Aptrood, may he live long:
And Moses, son of, Rabbi Jonah Gomberg, of blessed memory
In the fonts of Amsterdam:
In the year, “The Lord your God will bless all your enterprises” [Deuteronomy, 14:29], in the small counting [487]
Printed by Henrich Bayerhefer

2. Colophon.

Bentshen and all sorts of books can be obtained for purchase without exception, from the printers themselves, the famous bookseller, the famous, Moses, son of, Rabbi Jonah Gomberg, of blessed memory, who lives near the Jews bridge in Frankfurt am Main:

3. Content.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Tehinnah for women to be recited after candle lighting on Friday night. 3. Kiddush for Sabbath. 4. Zemirot. 5. Havdalah. 6. Hanukkah. 7. Shabbat Hanukkah. 8. Wedding ceremony. 9. Circumcision ceremony. 10. Redemption of the firstborn. 11. Eruv Tavshilin and Eruv Hazerot. 12. Kapparot. 13. Prayers for visiting cemetery. 14. Shema at bedtime. 15. Kiddush for Rosh Hashanah, and Festivals. 16. Passover Haggadah. 17. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. [93 pages]

14. Homburg a.d.Hohe, 1727. [NLI – Has Illustrations]

1. Title Page.

Birkhat ha-Mazon
According to the custom of Ashkenaz and Poland
The Bentshen

We have had it printed anew, with many more blessings and accompanying laws. Also, translated the zemirot completely differently. This is because much was missing in previous translations. Therefore, everyone laments that that they cannot have any understanding from the Yiddish translation. We have made the rhymes in Yiddish so that one should be able to sing them, with one’s own tune, very beautifully, and it will please everyone. For women and maidens who do not understand Hebrew. Each law is placed separately. It will be a wonder for the one who reads it. I have included much more in this printing. One can see everything in it, how many illustrations are in it, and to honor the Holy One. In order that children become accustomed to like the commandments. Everything is placed in order, and it’s like has not yet been seen in the world:[26]

Printed here in the holy community of Homburg an der Hohe
Established by Seligman, son of, Itzik Rothschild
In the fonts of Amsterdam:
In the year, “The Lord your God will bless all your enterprises” [Deuteronomy, 14:29], in the small counting [487]

2. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Tehinnah for women to be recited after candle lighting on Friday night. 3. Kiddush for Sabbath. 4. Zemirot. 5. Havdalah. 6. Hanukkah. 7. Shabbat Hanukkah. 8. Wedding ceremony. 9. Circumcision ceremony. 10. Redemption of the firstborn. 11. Eruv Tavshilin and Eruv Hazerot. 12. Kapparot. 13. Prayers for visiting cemetery. 14. Shema at bedtime. 15. Kiddush for Rosh Hashanah, and Festivals. 16. Passover Haggadah. 17. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. Missing some pages at the end. [82 pages]

15. Frankfurt a. O., 1753. [NLI – Has Illustrations]

1. Title Page.

This edition is missing the title page and several pages at the beginning. Bibliographical information is taken from NLI catalog entry.

2. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Tehinnah for women to be recited after candle lighting on Friday night. 3. Tikkunei Shabbat [Includes Shalom Aleichem and Eshet Hayil].[27] 4. Zemirot. 5. Havdalah. 6. Hanukkah. 7. Shabbat Hanukkah. 8. Wedding ceremony. 9. Circumcision ceremony. 10. Redemption of the firstborn. 11. Eruv Tavshilin and Eruv Hazerot. 12. Kapparot. 13. Prayers for visiting cemetery. 14. Shema at bedtime. 15. Kiddush for Rosh Hashanah, and Festivals. 16. Passover Haggadah. [83 pages]

16. Prague, 1773. [NLI – Has Illustrations]

1. Title Page.

Seder Birkhat ha-Mazon

With all the laws, Zemirot, Shema before bed, Kiddush for the whole year, Wedding ceremony, Circumcision and Redemption of the Firstborn, Kapparot, Prayers recited at the cemetery, Passover Haggadah. Also, with the Yiddish translation and all the illustrations included. This is very necessary, so come running and buy this. Pay what you can afford. The Messiah should come in our days, amen.

Printed here in Prague

Under the rule of the noble lady …[28] Maria Theresa, Queen of Hungary and Bohemia … and Austria … may her kingdom flourish, and may no stranger occupy her throne, and may her honor and her kingdom exceed that of her fellows, for length of days forever. Amen, so may it be Your will.

Gedruckt zu Ding in der Kakischen Buchdruck[29]

2. Colophon.

Completed, Praise to the Lord, Creator of the world
By the worker in the holy craft the typesetter and printer, Rabbi Selig, son of, Rabbi Wolf Bak, craftsman, judge, and teacher, here in Prague, may his memory be for a blessing.
By the worker in the holy craft the typesetter, the young man, David son of Lipman Bak, may his Creator protect him.
By the worker in the holy craft the printer, Lieberl, son of Rabbi Meir Stroz, of blessed memory. Grandson of Rabbi Lieberl, Rabbi, and teacher, here in Prague, author of Sefer Matitya’

3. Contents.

1. Proper practices for meals. [these are all in Yiddish]. 2. Hand washing, with laws relating to it, and Psalm 23. 3. Viduy [Confession] in the singular. 4. Good customs before eating, along with tehinnot to be recited. 5. Laws of ha-Motzi blessing and proper practices relating to meals. 6. “By the waters of Babylon” [Psalm 137] and “A song of Ascent when we returned to Zion” [Psalm 126]. These are recited before the Birkhat ha-Mazon.[30] 7. Laws and rules relating to Birkhat ha-Mazon. 8. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 9. Shema before bed. 10. Laws relating to lighting candles on the Sabbath and other festivals. 11. Laws relating to Friday night, including the following prayers, Shalom Aleichem, a Tehinnah, and Eshet Hayil.[31] 12. Laws relation to the recitation of Kiddush. 13. Kiddush. 14. Kiddush for Festivals. 15. Kiddush for Rosh Hashanah along with customs for Rosh Hashanah. 16. Zemirot for Shabbat. 17. Havdalah, preceded by laws and customs. 18. Laws and customs for Sanctification of the New Moon, along with appropriate prayers. 19. Laws and prayers for Hanukkah candle lighting. 20. Shabbat Hanukkah. 21. Laws concerning the Fast of Esther and Purim. 22. Wedding ceremony. 23. Circumcision ceremony. 24. Redemption of the Firstborn. 25. Laws and customs for Shavuot. 26. Tehinnot for visiting cemetery. 27. Laws and customs for the Ninth of Ab. 28. Kapparot. 29. Laws relating to Yom Kippur and the Sukkot. 30. Laws of Passover and text of the Haggadah. 31. Eruv Tavshilin and Eruv Hazerot. [151 pages]

17. Fürth, 1780.[32][FKT]

1. Title Page.

Birkhat ha-Mazon
According to the custom of Ashkenaz and Poland
The Bentshen

We have had it printed anew, with many more blessings and accompanying laws. Also, translated the zemirot completely differently. This is because much was missing in previous translations. Therefore, everyone laments that that they cannot have any understanding from the Yiddish translation. We have made the rhymes in Yiddish so that one should be able to sing them, with one’s own tune, very beautifully, and it will please everyone. For women and maidens who do not understand Hebrew. Each law is placed separately. It will be a wonder for the one who reads it. I have included much more in this printing. One can see everything in it, how many illustrations are in it, and to honor the Holy One. In order that children become accustomed to like the commandments. Everything is placed in order, and it’s like has not yet been seen in the world.

Printed here in the holy community of Fürth
In the house and praiseworthy and learned press of, Rabbi Itzik, may his Creator protect him, son of Rabbi David, of blessed memory.
In the fonts of Amsterdam:
In the year, “The Lord your God will bless all your enterprises” [Deuteronomy, 14:29], in the small counting [540]

2. Contents.

The contents of this edition are also a reprint of the Amsterdam, 1722 edition. [78 pages]

Part II. Italian and Spanish editions. All of the editions in this section are from the NLI.

1. Mantua, 1563. [NLI]

1. Title page.

Order of Blessings
According to the custom of the Ashkenazim
See, this is new, containing the blessings for things that are enjoyed. Everyone who sees its explanations and additions will appreciate it.
Here in Mantua
Under the rule of our lord, his majesty Duke Gulielmo Gonzaga
By Rabbi Joseph son of Rabbi Jacob, of blessed memory of Padua

2. Colophons.

a. First Colophon.

Completed

To the blessed Lord I give pleasantries that we have lived to this time, to benefit the populace, young and old. They should praise the name of God with them, since the exalted task of the making of these zemirot completely, with the addition of the prayer, “the compounding of the incense” and other beautiful things. On the twelfth of Adar I, 323 [1563], in the small counting.

Here in Mantua
By Rabbi Joseph son of Rabbi Jacob, of blessed memory of Padua

b. Second Colophon.

Completed, praise to the Lord of the world

Rosh Hodesh Adar II, 323 [1563], in the small counting, by Jacob of Gezolo and Rabbi Joseph son of Rabbi Jacob, of blessed memory of Padua

3. Contents.

1. Psalm 23. 2. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 3. Zemirot. 4. Havdalah. 5. Hanukkah. 6. Shabbat Hanukkah 7. Purim. 8. Wedding ceremony. 9. Shema before bedtime. 10. Circumcision ceremony. 11. Redemption of Firstborn. 12. Bettering a bad dream [Hatavat Halom].13. Eruv Tavshilin and Eruv Hazerot. 14. Kapparot. 15. Pitum ha-Ketoret.[33] 16. Prayers for visiting Cemetery. 17. Funeral prayers. 18. Birkhot ha-Nehenin with explanations. 19. Sabbath Kiddush. 20. Kiddush for Rosh Hashanah. 21. Kiddush for Pesach, Shavuot, Sukkot. 22. First colophon. 23. Passover Haggadah. 24. Second colophon. [103 pages]

2. Venice, 1617. [NLI]

1. Title Page.

Order of Blessings
According to the custom of the holy community of Sepharad:
Printed at the request of the humble Abraham Haver Tov:
Commissioned by their excellencies
Pietro and Lorenzo Bragadin
In the house of Giovanni Kiutz, in the year 377 [1617]
Apresso i Clar. Sig. Pietro Lorēzo Bragadin

2. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Sabbath Kiddush. 3. Havdalah. 4. Shema before bedtime. 5. Bettering a bad dream [Hatavat Halom]. 6. Sanctification of the New Moon. 7. Hanukkah. 8. Purim. 9. Passover Haggadah. 10. Kiddush for Rosh Hashana, Shavuot, Sukkot. 11. Blessings for Lulav, Sukkah. 12. Wedding ceremony. 13. Circumcision ceremony. 14. Eruv Tavshilin and Eruv Hazerot. 15. Prayer upon leaving the city. 16. Prayer when someone has a miracle happen for him. 17. Prayer after bathroom use. 18. Prayer before bloodletting. 19. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. 20. Deathbed confession. 21. Prayers for mourners. 22. Laws of slaughtering. [110 pages]

3. Venice, 1623. [NLI]

1. Title Page.

Order of Blessings
According to the custom of the holy community of Ashkenazim, may their Creator protect them:
Commissioned by and printed by their excellencies, Pietro and Lorenzo Bragadini:
In Venice, in the year, 5383 [1623]
In the house of Giovanni Coliani
Appresso gli Illustris. Sig Pietro e Lorenzo Brag.

2. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Azamer Bishevakhin, Asader be-Seudeta, Bnei Heichalah.[34] 3. Zemirot. 4. Havdalah. 5. Hanukkah. 6. Shabbat Hanukkah 7. Purim. 8. Wedding ceremony. 9. Circumcision ceremony. 10. Redemption of Firstborn. 11. Bettering a bad dream [Hatavat Halom]. 12. Eruv Tavshilin and Eruv Hazerot. 13. Kapparot. 14. Prayers for visiting Cemetery. 15. Funeral prayers. 16. Birkhot ha-Nehenin with explanations. 17. Miscellaneous Blessings. 18. Sabbath Kiddush. 19. Kiddush for Rosh Hashanah. 20. Kiddush for Pesach, Shavuot, Sukkot. [77 pages]

4. Amsterdam, 1640. [NLI]

1. Title Page.

Order of Blessings
Orden de BENDICION conforme el uso K. K. de Sepharad.
Añadido y acrescentado en muchas cosas a las prededentes imprensiones.
Estampado en casa de IMANUEL Benbeniste, Año 5400.

2. Introduction.

It has a seven-page Introduction, “To the Reader.” The prayers are in Spanish and Hebrew on facing pages. The Spanish is written in the Latin Alphabet.

3. Contents.

1. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 2. Sabbath Kiddush. 3. Havdalah. 4. Shema before bedtime. . 5. Bettering a bad dream [Hatavat Halom]. 6. Sanctification of the New Moon. 7. Hanukkah. 8. Purim. 9. Passover Haggadah. 10. Kiddush for Rosh Hashana, Shavuot, Sukkot. 11. Blessings for Lulav, Sukkah. 12. Wedding ceremony. 13. Eruv Tavshilin and Eruv Hazerot. 15. Prayer upon leaving the city [Tefillat ha-Derekh]. 16. Birkhot ha-Nehenin. 17. Deathbed confession. 18. Prayers for mourners. 19. Circumcision ceremony. 20. Redemption of the Firstborn. [191 pages]

5. Venice, 1673. [NLI]

1. Title Page.

Order of Blessings
According to the custom of the holy community of Rome, may their Creator protect them:
Including everything that was previously done:
“I greatly rejoice in the Lord, my whole being exults in my God” [Isaiah, 61:10] [1673]
In Venice
At the Bragadin press
IN VENETIA, M.DC.LXXIII
Nella Stamperia Bragadina. Per Christoforo Ambrosini.
Con Licenza de Superiori, e Pruilegio

2. Contents.

1. 1. Psalm for the Day, from Sunday to Friday. 2. Laws concerning Birkhat ha-Mazon [Hebrew]. 3. Birkhat ha-Mazon 4. A brief Birkhat ha-Mazon for workers having their meal at the place of their employer. 5. A piyyut to be recited Friday evening before prayers, composed by R. Judah Moscato [in the same place and time as Lekha Dodi would be in other communities. 6. Piyyutim for Shabbat [many same as Zemirot]. 7. Psalm 92 and other Psalms to be recited before the meal on Friday night. 8. Kiddush for Shabbat. 9. Zemirot. 10. Psalms 111, 15 recited for Shabbat. 11. Prayers and songs for conclusion of Shabbat. 12. Havdalah. 13. Sanctification of the New Moon. 14. Hanukkah. 15. Purim. 16. Passover Haggadah. 17. Eruv Tavshilin and Hazerot. 18. Kiddush for Rosh Hashana, Shavuot, Sukkot. 19. Circumcision ceremony. 20. Redemption of the Firstborn. 21. Engagement and wedding ceremony. 22. Funeral service. 23. Bettering a bad dream [Hatavat Halom]. 24. Shema before bedtime. 25. Prayer for travelers. 26. Havinenu prayer. 27. One Hundred blessings [various prayers]. 28. Birkhat ha-Nehenin. [175 pages]

6. Venice, 1737. [NLI]

1. Title Page.

Order of Blessings
According to the custom of the holy community of the Italians, may God protect them:
Con tutte le dichiarationi In volgare, & Haggadah Con la sua cerimonia ben Distinta.
Printed for the desire of the pleasant student Gad, son of the physician, Rabbi Isaac Foa may his Creator protect him
In Venice
NELLA STAM. BRAGADI.
Con Licenza de Superiori.
In the year, “Yea, you shall leave in joy” [Isaiah, 55:12], in the small counting [1737]

2. Contents.[35]

1. Psalm for the Day, from Sunday to Friday. 2. Zemirot. 3. Sabbath Kiddush. 4. More zemirot. 5. Havdalah. 6. Sanctification of the New Moon. 7. Hanukkah. 8. Purim. 9. Passover Haggadah. 10. Counting the Omer. 11. Eruv Tavshilin and Hazerot. 12. Kiddush for Rosh Hashana, Shavuot, Sukkot. 13. Wedding ceremony. 14. Circumcision ceremony. 15. Redemption of the Firstborn. 16. Prayers for Ninth of Ab. 17. Funeral service. 18. Bettering a bad dream [Hatavat Halom]. 19. Shema before bedtime. 20. Havinenu prayer. 21. Prayer for travelers. 22. One Hundred blessings [various prayers]. [107 pages]

7. Venice, 1739. [NLI]

1. Title Page.

Order of Blessings
According to the custom of the holy community of Ashkenazim, may their Creator protect them:
With greater vigor for the ancients
Con tutte ie dichiarationi In volgare; Et l, הגדה Con la sua cerimonia ben Distinta.
Now printed anew
In Venice
Nella Stamparia Vendramin, Con Licenza de Superiori,
In the year 5499, in the large counting.

2. Colophon.

By the one who works in the holy craft, David the son of the sage Raphael Hayyim Bueno, of blessed memory.

3. Contents.[36]

1. Psalms 23. 2. The psalms for each day of the week. 3. Birkhat ha-Mazon. 4. Three Sabbath Hymns by R. Isaac Luria.[37] 5. Zemirot. 6. Havdalah. 7. Hanukkah. 8. Shabbat Hanukkah. 9. Purim. 10. Kapparot. 11. Prayers for eve of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. 12. Kiddush for Sabbath. 13. Kiddush for Rosh Hashana, Shavuot, Sukkot. 14. Passover Haggadah. 15. Counting the Omer. 16. Eruv Tavshilin and Hazerot. 17. Wedding ceremony. 18. Circumcision ceremony. 19. Redemption of the Firstborn. 20. Funeral service. 21. Bettering a bad dream [Hatavat Halom]. 22. Shema before bedtime. 23. Prayer for travelers. 24. Pitum ha-Ketoret.[38] 25. Havinenu prayer. 26. Birkhat ha-Nehenin. 27. One Hundred blessings [various prayers]. [99 pages]

[1] Quotation from, J.D. Eisenstein, “Prayerbooks.” Jewish Encyclopedia. 12 Vols. New York: Funk & Wagnalls, 1909, 10: 172.[28]
[2] The former term is used in the Ashkenazi realm while the latter term is used by Sephardi and Italian communities.
[3] In medieval rabbinic literature, it is also called minhag Ostreich (Austria).
[4] A well-known example of the medieval Mahzor is the Mahzor Vitry, by Simcha of Vitry.
[5] This is taken from the Preface to the Mahzor for the Whole Year, published by the partners, Jacob bar Abraham o.b.m. Tihinger and second, Jacob bar Abraham o.b.m from the holy community of Meseritz of Lithuania, in the land of Reisen, who is called Jacob the Bookseller. Basel: Waldkirch, 1599. For more details see, Joseph Prijs, Die Basler Hebräischen Drucke. Freiburg im Breisgau: Urs Graf Verlag, 1964, No. 157.
[6] For convenience, the term Birkhat ha-Mazon will be used to describe both, but as we will see, their contents and format are similar.
[7] These include: M. Steinschneider, Catalogus Librorum Hebraeorum in Bibliotheca Bodleiana. 2 Vols. Berlin: Friedlander, 1852-1860, Nos. 2599 – 2658; C.B. Friedberg, Bet Eked Sefarim. 4 Vols. Tel Aviv: Friedberg, 1951, s.v., Birkhat ha-Mazon; Y. Vinogard, Ozar Sefer ha-Ivri. Jerusalem: Institute for Computerized Bibliography, 1994, s.v., Birkhat ha-Mazon.
[8] These details are included in the discussions of the individual editions in the Appendix.
[9] The Spanish text is in the Latin alphabet.
[10] Faierstein, Morris M. Jewish Customs of Kabbalistic Origin. Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2013, 39.
[11] Ibid. 18-20.
[12] The role of Tehinnot is discussed at greater length in,Morris M. Faierstein, “The Earliest Published Yiddish Tehinnot (1590–1609). Hebrew Union College Annual 91 (2020): 157–206.
[13] For more details about this edition and the text of the Introduction see, A. M. Habermann, “The Printer Hayyim Shachor, His Son Isaac, and his Son-in-Law Joseph ben Yakar.” Studies in the History of Hebrew Printers [Hebrew]. Jerusalem: Reuben Mass, 1978, 122–124, No. 17.
[14] Chava Turniansky, and Erika Timm. Yiddish in Italia: Manuscripts and Printed Books. Milan: Associazione Italiana Amici dell’Uuniversità di Gerusalemme, 2003, 22, No. 13 and 24, No. 14.
[15] This is discussed in my forthcoming monograph, The Early Modern Yiddish Bible: From the Mirkevet ha-Mishneh to Blitz and Witzenhausen. Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, forthcoming.
[16] This is documented in Turniansky, and Timm, Yiddish in Italia.
[17] The bibliographical information for this text is taken from Isaac Yudlov, Sefer Ginzei Yisrael: Osef Dr. Yisrael Mehlman. Jerusalem: National and University Library, 1985, No. 271.
[18] The verse is from Psalms, 36:11.
[19] The phrase is taken from the Sabbath morning Amidah prayer.
[20] This text is the same as the Wilhermsdorf, 1687 edition.
[21] This edition does not have a date on the title page and there is no colophon. According to Isaac Ben-Jacob, Otzar ha-Sefarim. Romm: Vilna, 1880, 88, no. 663, lists a second Wilhermsdorf edition in 1694. Perhaps this is that edition. This copy is found in the Basel University library.
[22] Yudlov, Sefer Ginzei Yisrael, No. 273.
[23] This edition is a copy of the Amsterdam, 1722 edition. The publisher is different.
[24] The Yiddish text is the same as the Amsterdam, 1722 edition.
[25] The Yiddish text is the same as the Amsterdam, 1722 edition.
[26] The Yiddish text is the same as the Amsterdam, 1722 edition.
[27] This is the first edition that contains these kabbalistically influenced hymns.
[28] This indicates words that can’t be read.
[29] This and a number of other things are approximations, as the print is indistinct.
[30] These are kabbalistic innovations. See, Morris M. Faierstein, Jewish Customs of Kabbalistic Origin. Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2013, 18-20.
[31] Ibid., 39. This was also introduced by the Safed kabbalists.
[32] This edition is the same as the Amsterdam, 1722 edition.
[33] A group of prayers relating to the incense in the Temple. It was believed to be a protection against the plague.
[34] These three passages are from the Zohar and are recommended by Rabbi Isaac Luria to be recited at the three Sabbath meals. See, Faierstein, Jewish Customs of Kabbalistic Origin, 40-41. It is particularly interesting that it is quite early to be included in a prayerbook and particularly in an Ashkenazi one.
[35] This edition has discussions of applicable laws and instructions in Italian in the Latin alphabet.
[36] This edition has instructions in Italian, written in the Latin alphabet.
[37] For more details, see the Venice, 1623 edition above.
[38] A group of prayers relating to the incense in the Temple. It was believed to be a protection against the plague.

Beyond the Masthead of the Beys Yaakov Journal, 1923-1980 – Part 2:
‘Abomination’ or Scandal? Mistranslation, Journalism, and the Halivni Controversy

By Dan Rabinowitz and Menachem Butler

In Part 1 of this study, it was argued^[1] that the Beys Yaakov Journal cannot be understood simply as an ideological mouthpiece of Agudath Israel, nor as an instrument of Orthodox withdrawal. Across decades, its editors repeatedly confronted intellectual challenges in public, publishing voices and materials that lay beyond the formal boundaries of Agudah authority and resisting the impulse toward protective silence. That does not mean it adopted liberal positions; rather, its conclusions fit squarely within the traditions of Ultra-Orthodox theology. The journal’s Orthodox commitments were genuine, but they were not understood to require insulation from controversy or the suppression of methodological dispute. In this second installment of “Beyond the Masthead of the Beys Yaakov Journal, 1923-1980,” the controversy surrounding Rabbi Professor David Weiss Halivni serves as an especially revealing test case for these dynamics.

Rabbi Professor David Weiss Halivni passed away on June 28, 2022. On July 17, the New York Times published a lengthy obituary under the headline and subheadline:

“David Weiss Halivni, Controversial Talmudic Scholar, Dies at 94. He was considered too radical by many Orthodox rabbis and too regressive by many Conservative Jewish leaders. But his work was widely praised.”^[2]

The framing is revealing. Halivni is positioned between two opposing camps, too radical for one and too regressive for the other. This symmetrical construction reduces a complex methodological dispute to a narrative of ideological extremity and obscures the substantive nature of Orthodox objections. The obituary further characterized Halivni’s scholarship as grounded in the “controversial idea” that the Talmud is “riddled with inconsistencies and incongruities” resulting from the vulnerabilities of largely oral transmission, “subject to the flaws resulting from fallible memories.” It reproduced Agudath Israel’s denunciation of his work as an “abomination,” accusing him of daring “to enter the domain of the holy” and to suggest that the transmitters of the Talmud altered the text unknowingly. At the same time, Halivni was quoted defending his position: “divine origin does not preclude critical study, since critical study seeks to purge the text of human error.”

Beyond this polemical exchange, the obituary devoted substantial attention to Halivni’s innovative approach to Talmudic study, illustrating it through an extended discussion of a sugya in Mo’ed Katan. What was “pioneering” about Halivni’s work, the obituary explained, was his effort to “burrow[…] deeply into the history of how the Talmud … came to be compiled,” and to argue that its transmission, “for generations, largely oral,” was inevitably “subject to the flaws resulting from fallible memories.” Halivni therefore sought to “restore the pristine state of the Talmud,” in one student’s formulation, by identifying “incorrect editorial surmises” and exposing moments in which later transmitters resorted to “forced readings” in order to reconcile contradictions. As the obituary emphasized, Halivni’s method aimed to “iron out the inconsistencies and gaps and restore logical coherence” by tracing a concept’s provenance and, where necessary, reconstructing earlier textual strata. This methodological claim entailed a far-reaching reassessment of traditional assumptions about the formation and internal coherence of the Talmud.^[3]

David Weiss Halivni (1927-2022) was born in Poljana Kobilecka in interwar Czechoslovakia and received rabbinic ordination in Sighet at the age of fifteen. Deported to Auschwitz in 1944, he survived the camps as the sole remaining member of his family.^[4] After immigrating to the United States in 1947, he combined advanced yeshiva learning with formal academic study, ultimately joining the faculty of the Jewish Theological Seminary and later Columbia University.^[5] In his later years he made aliyah and taught at Bar-Ilan University. Beginning in 1969, he published the first volume of his monumental Mekorot u-Mesorot,^[6] which developed a sustained program of source-critical Talmudic interpretation,^[7] aimed at distinguishing between tannaitic dicta and later amoraic and editorial strata.^[8] It was this methodological ambition, more than questions of biography or institutional affiliation, that made Halivni a focal point of Orthodox critique.

Such sustained engagement with technical Talmudic scholarship is unusual for The New York Times. Yet this was not the paper’s first encounter with Halivni’s work. On the eve of Rosh Hashanah in 1977, The New York Times Magazine published a lengthy profile of Halivni by Israel Shenker under the title “A Life in the Talmud.”^[9] There, Shenker described Halivni as “a respected public enemy at the pinnacle of modern scholarship” and reported that “The ultra-Orthodox Israeli political party Agudath Israel called it an ‘abomination,’” citing an editorial in Beys Yaakov Journal. The juxtaposition of scholarly daring and religious denunciation supplied the dramatic architecture that the 2022 obituary would later reprise.

The New York Times narrative, however, is fundamentally flawed. It misidentifies the institutional character and editorial posture of the Beys Yaakov Journal, misconstrues the nature of its engagement with contested scholarship, and rests on a tendentious, if not deliberate, mistranslation of a pivotal passage. More importantly, it mislocates the center of Orthodox resistance to Halivni’s work. The critique in that article in Beys Yaakov Journal, and the journalistic distortions surrounding it, should not be mistaken for the principal arena of Orthodox opposition. The more consequential controversy unfolded within the American Modern Orthodox world, particularly at Yeshiva University and among its associated intellectual networks, circles far more familiar to the Times readership and far more central to the internal struggles of American Judaism during the period under review. As we will demonstrate in a subsequent installment of this series, it was there, rather than in Israeli party politics, that the most sustained and institutionally significant resistance to Halivni took shape.

Israel Shenker: A Scholar “Trapped in a Newsman’s Body”

To grasp the significance of Israel Shenker’s mischaracterization of the Beys Yaakov Journal, one must first understand Shenker himself. He was no ignorant sensationalist, no journalist stumbling blindly into a world he did not understand. On the contrary, he was widely (and aptly) described as “a scholar trapped in a newsman’s body.”^[10] Fluent in Hebrew and Yiddish and possessed of formidable erudition, Shenker moved comfortably among texts, languages, and learned worlds that lay beyond the reach of most reporters.

That independence was visible early. While enrolled at the University of Pennsylvania, Shenker reportedly completed his degree without attending classes, preferring to work alone in the library and appearing only for examinations. As his niece later recalled, he “did not attend classes because he did not need to,” a habit that remained a defining feature of his intellectual life: self-directed, book-centered, and impatient with institutional mediation.^[11]

Across several decades at The New York Times, Shenker profiled an extraordinary range of cultural and intellectual figures. Yet the range was not random. He gravitated toward individuals who combined mastery with eccentricity, authority with paradox: Groucho Marx,^[12] whose comic persona masked a sharp literary intelligence; Jorge Luis Borges,^[13] blind yet hyper-lucid; Noam Chomsky,^[14] the dissident linguist who destabilized both politics and grammar; Vladimir Nabokov,^[15] the aristocratic stylist and relentless classifier; Pablo Picasso,^[16] whose genius lay in permanent disruption. Alongside them appeared scientists and system-builders such as Isaac Asimov, polymaths of prodigious output and explanatory ambition.^[17]

Shenker brought the same sensibility to Jewish intellectual life. He wrote about scholars such as Uriel Simon,^[18] Salo Wittmayer Baron,^[19] and Solomon Zeitlin,^[20] figures whose authority derived not from popular appeal but from textual mastery and historical depth. He became one of the Times’ principal correspondents on Jewish culture, though with telling selectivity: the Jewish Theological Seminary consistently dominated his institutional coverage,^[21] while nearly every other yeshiva or rabbinical seminary in New York went largely unremarked^[22]; the Second Avenue Deli became his emblem of Jewish urban life,^[23] while nearly every other Jewish restaurant remained invisible.^[24] Shenker’s choices reveal a consistent pattern: he favored sites and figures that condensed Jewish meaning into legible symbols.^[25]

Much of his Jewish writing was light in tone but not trivial. He reported on a snobbish kosher hotel in England^[26]; obscure and declining Jewish communities^[27]; the phenomenon of “miraculous” pareve cheesecake^[28]; the Twerski rabbinic dynasty^[29] and other Hasidic groups^[30]; itinerant soferim repairing pesul Torah scrolls^[31]; Hebrew book publishing^[32]; dreydl manufacturers^[33]; the economics of yarmulkes and skullcaps^[34]; the professional culture of kosher certification and supervision^[35]; and prayer groups on El Al flights so numerous they gathered at the rear of the plane and disrupted its altitude.^[36] These were not throwaway curiosities. They were chosen because they dramatized ingenuity, adaptation, and excess.

Other pieces were more substantial. Shenker produced one of the most comprehensive journalistic profiles of Isaac Bashevis Singer,^[37] wrote with open admiration about Harry Austryn Wolfson, the legendary Harvard scholar of Jewish philosophy,^[38] and reported sympathetically on the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s public call for kindness on the occasion of his seventieth birthday.^[39] He covered Holocaust conferences, theological debates, Jewish cultural institutions, and scholarly gatherings with genuine seriousness.^[40] Many of these essays were later revised and collected in his 1985 volume Coat of Many Colors, a book that stands as the fullest expression of his intellectual commitments.^[41]

Shenker’s first sustained engagement with talmudic scholarship came in 1971, with a profile of Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz,^[42] then deeply immersed in producing a new edition of the Talmud.^[43] The article was largely respectful, yet it included a pointed dismissal attributed to Rabbi Louis Finkelstein, chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary, belittling Steinsaltz’s achievement.^[44] The move is revealing. Even where admiration was warranted, Shenker could not resist inserting institutional tension, foregrounding controversy where extended methodological explanation might have sufficed.

That instinct became even more pronounced in Shenker’s 1975 feature, “Responsa: The Law as Seen by Rabbis for 1,000 Years,” based on interviews with Rabbi Moshe and Rabbi Solomon B. Freehof.^[45] The pairing itself was astute, recognizing responsa as a transdenominational genre spanning Orthodox and Reform authority. Yet the article in The New York Times was framed by a prominent callout box – “A Responsum Sampler” – that juxtaposed grave contemporary questions, such as homosexuality and women wearing pants, with deliberately quirky cases,^[46] including ritual slaughter under hypnosis^[47] and a woman who swallowed a fly.^[48] Responsa appeared less as a discipline of burdened responsibility than as a theater of ingenuity and oddity. The irony is that Rabbi Feinstein explicitly rejected such a portrayal. “You can’t wake up in the morning and decide you’re an expert on answers,” he insisted, stressing that authority emerges only through long recognition of sound judgment. More pointedly, he framed pesak as religious accountability: “A rabbi who replies to people’s questions works harder than a doctor dealing with a case of life and death. The doctor is responsible only to his patient, but the rabbi is responsible to God.” This ethic of burdened responsibility, articulated in the interview itself, stands in tension with the broader journalistic framing. Rabbi Feinstein articulated the same conception programmatically in the introduction to the first volume of Iggerot Moshe,^[49] where he repeatedly describes his rulings not as demonstrations of mastery but as obligations imposed by circumstance. His responsa, he writes, emerge from “darkness,” composed only because he felt compelled to give instruction; the decisor must rule according to “what his eyes see and what appears true to him,” even amid doubt and fear of error. Authority, in this account, lies not in brilliance or certainty but in the willingness to assume responsibility for guidance. This was an ethic that closely parallels his insistence in the Times interview that “the rabbi is responsible to God,” not to ingenuity or acclaim. ^[50]

Shenker was plainly fascinated by the genre; he devoted nearly thirty pages to responsa literature in Coat of Many Colors. Whether the emphasis on eccentricity reflected his own priorities or editorial intervention is difficult to determine. Shenker’s own reflections offer some guidance. In a 1986 profile, he described himself as writing “as a reporter more than anything else,” insisting that he was “not interested in arguing any ideas of [his] own.”^[51] Baruch Halpern’s account is especially suggestive. A leading scholar of the Hebrew Bible and ancient Israel, he explains that when Shenker worked for Time in postwar Europe, managing its Paris bureau, Shenker deliberately forwent by-lines out of a “corporatist sense of mission,” valuing collective authorship over individual credit.^[52] Only later, at The New York Times, did Shenker embrace what Halpern memorably termed “that sacred by-line,” situating his career within a broader shift toward intellectual individuation.^[53]

Shenker openly admired religious intellect even while identifying as a nonbeliever. He spoke candidly of his fascination with rabbinic literature – not for its piety, but for what he called “the determination to find excuses for impossible things.” Talmud and responsa were, in his words, “endlessly fascinating.” This posture, respectful yet detached, drawn to paradox rather than normativity, helps explain both his genuine engagement with Jewish learning and his recurrent tendency to foreground eccentricity or scandal at the expense of internal meaning.^[54]

That stance was reflected not only in Shenker’s writing but also in the manner in which he chose to live. In his later years he withdrew from institutional journalism altogether and settled in rural Scotland, where his wife Mary, born into the Sagman family of Glasgow, had familial roots. There he described himself as a solitary reader moving from library to library, drawn to places that functioned as what he called “intellectual hospices.”^[55] Writing in 1985 about a residential library in Wales founded by William Gladstone, Shenker offered an implicit self-portrait: a scholar without a pulpit, a journalist without a platform, committed less to intervention than to observation, and to books rather than communities. From that deliberately marginal and proudly nonconfessional vantage point, Judaism appeared not as a living system governed by internal norms, but as a repository of endlessly fascinating textual ingenuity. This orientation is also visible in Shenker’s books. Beyond Coat of Many Colors, Shenker published a series of substantial monographs that further attest to the breadth and seriousness of his intellectual interests, including studies of lexicography and the history of language,^[56] literary travel^[57] and eighteenth-century intellectual culture,^[58] and contemporary Jewish and Israeli public life.^[59]

Seen against this background, Shenker’s treatment of David Weiss Halivni cannot plausibly be dismissed as a product of ignorance or linguistic incapacity. He possessed the philological competence to read the Hebrew of the Beys Yaakov Journal accurately and the cultural literacy to recognize the specifically Orthodox stakes of Halivni’s project. The resulting mischaracterization was therefore interpretive rather than inadvertent: a reframing of a bounded intramural methodological dispute in the idiom of public scandal. In this instance, Shenker’s erudition did not guard against distortion but conferred authority upon it.

To see why this reframing proved so consequential requires closer attention to the article itself and to the broader Orthodox debate over the academic study of the Talmud in which it intervened. Only within that broader context does the inadequacy of the binary framework later imposed upon Halivni come into focus. In a subsequent installment of this series, we will examine specific episodes in his life, consider his distinctive approach to Talmudic study, and then turn to the controversy it provoked. His trajectory across worlds often presumed to be mutually exclusive, including the traditional yeshiva culture of Eastern Europe, the postwar Orthodox institutions of America, and the emerging academic study of rabbinic literature, forms an essential backdrop to that debate.

The 1969 Beys Yaakov Journal Article: Engaging the Challenge

In early 1969, the Beys Yaakov Journal published “A Cry of Alarm Concerning the New School of ‘Talmud Critics’!”^[60] by “Harav Yitzhak M. Shmueli” (almost certainly a pseudonym).^[61] The article appeared in issue no. 116, shortly after the publication of the first volume of Halivni’s Mekorot u-Mesorot (1969).^[62] It was not a reflexive polemic or an immediate rebuttal, but a considered response to a scholarly methodology that had already begun to exert influence within academic and semi-academic Jewish discourse.^[63] Shmueli’s article reflects the Journal’s longstanding editorial posture: the intellectual challenges of modernity, particularly those circulating in print and academic venues, cannot be met with silence or denial. Rather than ignoring them, the Beys Yaakov Journal insisted on direct and public engagement.^[64]

The article offers a sweeping critique of the Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS) and its Talmudic scholarship, with Halivni serving as the central exemplar. After briefly dismissing academic biblical criticism as a spent and methodologically compromised enterprise, Shmueli turns to what he presents as a more urgent danger: the emergence of academic Talmudic criticism within the Jewish Theological Seminary. He notes that Mekorot u-Mesorot bears the subtitle Biʾurim Talmudiyim and explicitly links this nomenclature to the Biʾur associated with Moses Mendelssohn, whom he identifies, in conventional Orthodox polemic, as a progenitor of German Reform Judaism.^[65] The terminological parallel is presented as symptomatic rather than incidental.

Shmueli’s extended polemic against biblical criticism should be read less as his operative argument than as a genealogical warning. By tracing “Ḥokhmat Yisrael” back to German biblical criticism and Wissenschaft des Judentums, he establishes a historical cautionary tale rather than mounting a detailed refutation.^[66] Once the discussion turns to Talmud, however, the tone shifts markedly: denunciatory generalizations give way to named books, cited introductions, concrete methodological claims, and extended quotation of traditional authorities. The rhetorical genealogy sets the stage; the argument itself unfolds as a focused dispute over the limits of legitimate Talmudic method.

Beyond an Internal Scholarly Debate

Shmueli’s concern, however, was not confined to an intramural scholarly dispute that might otherwise have remained limited to a narrow academic readership. The urgency, he argued, arose from Halivni’s entry into the broader intellectual public. In 1963, Halivni authored the Encyclopaedia Britannica entry “Source Criticism,” appended to the encyclopedia’s discussion of the “Talmud.” There he did not merely note philological problems in passing, but presented “source criticism” as a discrete scholarly method whose central task was to distinguish between the original statements of rabbinic authorities and the forms those statements assumed through oral transmission. A paragraph from that Britannica entry was later reprinted on the inside cover of Mekorot u-Mesorot: Seder Nashim (1969) under the heading, “From the author’s statement in the Encyclopaedia Britannica.” It reads:

“Source criticism seeks to differentiate between the original statements as they were enunciated by their authors and the forms they took as a consequence of being orally transmitted; that is, between the sources and their later traditions. It is not to be confused with the kind of analysis – frequently carried out by the rabbis or the Talmud – which merely traces the historical sources of a given passage without judging whether or not the passage faithfully reflects these sources. Source criticism claims that the transmission of the Talmud was not, and perhaps could not have been, verbatim, and that the text became altered in transmission, with the result that many statements in the Talmud have not come down in their original form. Instead, what survives is the form assumed in the last phase of transmissional development. While such a study is pertinent to most ancient texts, it is particularly relevant to the Talmud, which primarily consists of quotations and their interpretations.”^[67]

On Halivni’s account, talmudic transmission “was not, and perhaps could not have been, verbatim,” with the result that many passages survive only in the form assumed in the final phase of transmissional development. The Talmud, he argued in that encyclopedia entry, is therefore particularly susceptible to such analysis, since it largely consists of quotations and interpretive strata. By articulating this claim in the idiom of general textual criticism and situating it within a major English-language reference work addressed to a broad, non-confessional readership, Halivni effectively relocated questions of talmudic authority from the internal norms of the beit midrash to the evaluative jurisdiction of modern academic scholarship. What might otherwise have remained an internal scholarly controversy was thus recast as a public representation of the Talmud within a wider intellectual culture.

It is precisely this public and methodological self-positioning that made the volume contentious. By placing the critical premise at the threshold of the book, Halivni indicated that the issue at stake was not merely philological refinement but the conceptual framework within which the Talmud itself would be understood. The decision to reproduce this paragraph prominently on the inside cover of Mekorot u-Mesorot was therefore more than bibliographic notice. It framed the book from the outset as an intervention in the academic discourse of textual criticism and positioned its central thesis as a methodological claim rather than an incidental observation. Before encountering Halivni’s detailed readings, the reader is confronted with a declaration about the nature of talmudic transmission and the legitimacy of critical reconstruction. In this sense, the reprinted Britannica passage functions as a programmatic preface, signaling that the project’s claims about the Talmud’s layered development are not ancillary but foundational.

This concern about public legitimation was not new. Long before the appearance of Halivni’s Mekorot u-Mesorot, Orthodox critics had already accused JTS, particularly under Finkelstein, of attempting to translate rabbinic tradition into a civic idiom aimed at American elites, a trajectory that would later culminate in highly visible episodes such as the Seminary’s 1957 convocation attended by Chief Justice Earl Warren.^[68] This dynamic can already be seen by the early 1930s, such critiques had evolved from responses to discrete initiatives into a sustained indictment of Finkelstein’s leadership. In a widely circulated Yiddish pamphlet responding to the accumulated controversy surrounding the Seminary,^[69] Dr. Aaron Rosmarin retrospectively gathered earlier charges, first voiced in The Jewish Forum,^[70] Der Tog,^[71] and The Jewish Spectator ,^[72] into a comprehensive critique of what he presented as a coherent institutional strategy: the deliberate public repositioning of JTS through interfaith initiatives and universalist ethical rhetoric, designed to render Judaism intelligible and respectable to Christian and civic authorities while eroding the internal boundaries of rabbinic tradition.^[73] Read in this longer perspective, the anxieties later articulated by Shmueli in the late 1960s appear not as episodic reactions to a single event, but as the continuation of an established polemical grammar through which the Seminary had long been contested within Haredi and Orthodox circles.

Yet the controversy did not unfold solely in the register of political denunciation or institutional suspicion. It also took the form of an internal methodological dispute over the norms of Talmudic scholarship.

Substantive Scholarship, Not Political Condemnation

Shmueli did not confine his critique to rhetorical denunciation. The article prominently featured, in a separate callout box at the top center of the page, the complete four-paragraph letter of the Ḥazon Ish addressing the use of manuscripts and textual emendation in Talmudic interpretation.^[74] Given the Ḥazon Ish’s stature as one of the most authoritative scholars of his generation, his methodological positions were widely regarded as normative and were adopted, explicitly or implicitly, by many traditional Orthodox rabbis and scholars. Crucially, the Ḥazon Ish does not reject manuscript evidence as such; rather, he rejects its elevation into a corrective authority over the received text as transmitted and interpreted through the classical rabbinic canon. By foregrounding the Ḥazon Ish’s objections instead of invoking partisan rhetoric or institutional polemic, Shmueli cast the controversy as a serious methodological dispute internal to the discipline of Talmud study.
The letter reads in full:

“To interpret a sugya and to emend the Gemara on the basis of the ‘Munich’ manuscript – does this mean that all the sages of the generation, from the time of the Rishonim until now, all failed to apprehend the truth, because a single scribe erred and added material to the Gemara of his own accord, thereby causing all the sages to stumble?

I am not of them nor of their multitude. The manuscripts that were in the hands of the early authorities of blessed memory – they gave their lives for them, and the providence of the Blessed One, that the Torah not be forgotten from Israel, hovered over them. And when they began to print the Gemara, the sages of the generation gave their lives for its refinement and correction. And even if, at times, one may benefit from manuscripts to cleanse corruptions that arise over the course of time, with regard to a matter that issued from the hands of all our masters without any hesitation – Heaven forbid to disturb it.

Consider this yourself. When there are three manuscripts before us and two agree, we follow the two and set aside the one. And who can say to us that the ‘Munich’ manuscript is not from that one that was nullified by the majority in its own time? And who can say that it was not known to those lacking precision? In any case, it is null and void, like a broken potsherd, in the face of the received version.

And because a scribe erred and omitted a few words, as scribes are wont to err – shall we build towers? Perhaps indeed it is so, that the scribe omitted them and it is not from the sages, but when we rely on the tradition, the Torah of Rashi and Tosafot and all the sages – certainly this is the Torah. And I have almost never seen any benefit in arriving at the truth through variant readings uncovered from the genizot. Rather, they are all a benefit for distorting judgment and perverting the truth. It would have been fitting to consign them to burial, for the loss outweighs the gain.”

By reproducing this letter in full, Shmueli makes clear that his opposition to Halivni’s methodology rests on principled epistemological and methodological grounds rather than on ideological reflex. The Ḥazon Ish’s critique does not deny the existence of manuscript variation or the occasional value of textual witnesses; rather, it rejects the privileging of isolated manuscripts over the cumulative authority of the received tradition as transmitted and interpreted through generations of rabbinic scholarship.^[75]
Crucially, Shmueli explicitly acknowledges that multiplicity, difficulty, and textual variation are intrinsic features of Torah she-baʿal peʿh. He concedes that variant readings and unresolved tensions have always belonged to the tradition, and he invokes major figures such as the Ḥatam Sofer and R. Israel Salanter to underscore that truth in Torah does not reside in surface simplicity. This concession sharply distinguishes his position from any naïve textual absolutism. What he rejects is not complexity itself, but the elevation of conjectural reconstruction into a corrective authority over the received text and its interpretive canon. In this way, Shmueli situates his argument squarely within a substantive Talmudic debate. He contends that even academically rigorous methods, supported by extensive philological evidence, remain subject to serious internal critique from within the Orthodox scholarly tradition itself. The article therefore represents intellectual engagement rather than political denunciation or fundamentalist rejection.

A full reading of Shmueli’s article makes clear that his deepest concern is not the existence of critical hypotheses as such, but their translation into public authority. Again and again, the danger he identifies lies in institutional legitimation: a book published by a major Israeli press, authored by a faculty member of the Jewish Theological Seminary, and disseminated to a broad readership through venues such as the Encyclopaedia Britannica. For Shmueli, the methodological question becomes urgent precisely at the point where speculative reconstruction threatens to become normative representation. The issue, in other words, is not academic experimentation behind closed doors, but the public pedagogy of Judaism to Jews and non-Jews alike.

Acknowledging Lieberman’s Authenticity

One of the most revealing features of Shmueli’s polemic is his careful distinction between Halivni and Saul Lieberman. Despite the breadth and intensity of his critique of the JTS approach, he is markedly restrained in his treatment of Lieberman. This restraint is deliberate. Lieberman’s Orthodox credentials were exceptionally strong and widely recognized across multiple sectors of the Orthodox world.^[76] Upon his arrival in Palestine in 1928, he was appointed director of Machon Harry Fischel, a flagship Orthodox research institute devoted to advanced talmudic and halakhic scholarship, an appointment facilitated by leading rabbinic figures, including R. Isser Zalman Meltzer and R. Avraham Yitzhak Hacohen Kook.^[77] At the same time, Lieberman pursued rigorous academic training at the Hebrew University under Prof. Jacob Nahum Epstein, the foremost architect of modern academic Talmud. Far from disqualifying him, this dual formation reflects the still-open willingness of segments of the Orthodox rabbinic elite in the interwar period to recognize exceptional Torah mastery even when pursued through unconventional scholarly frameworks.^[78]

This standing remained intact even as Lieberman later contemplated accepting a position at the Jewish Theological Seminary. Before doing so, he consulted major Orthodox authorities, among them R. Isser Zalman Meltzer and R. Yaakov Moshe Charlap. Their responses ranged from principled refusal to issue a ruling to cautious, conditional acquiescence, but none denied Lieberman’s stature as a preeminent talmid ḥakham.^[79] As Marc B. Shapiro has shown, Lieberman’s move to JTS did not erase his reputation within elite Orthodox circles; rather, it exposed unresolved tensions within Orthodoxy itself concerning the boundaries between institutional affiliation, scholarly method, and personal halakhic authority.^[80] Lieberman thus occupied a liminal position: fully embedded in the Lithuanian rabbinic elite, deeply shaped by its intellectual ethos, yet operating at the outer limits of what Orthodoxy could comfortably accommodate.

It is precisely this status that explains Shmueli’s careful tone. To indict Lieberman directly would have required confronting not a marginal figure but a scholar whose legitimacy had been affirmed – explicitly or tacitly – by many of Orthodoxy’s leading authorities. Shmueli’s restraint therefore reflects less an endorsement of Lieberman’s methodology than an acknowledgment of the exceptional difficulty of dislodging a figure whose authority derived not from institutional politics alone, but from recognized and formidable Torah greatness. Shmueli’s own rhetoric reflects this distinction with care. He refers to Lieberman explicitly as a “renowned scholar, erudite in Torah she-baʿal peh,” even as he directs his most sustained and forceful criticism toward Halivni and the methodological program embodied in Mekorot u-Mesorot. This differentiation is significant. It underscores the Beys Yaakov Journal’s capacity for discriminating judgment rather than indiscriminate rejection of academic scholarship.

This, despite the fact that Lieberman’s earliest major work, Al ha-Yerushalmi, had already exemplified a disciplined form of textual criticism, drawing on manuscripts, parallel traditions, and internal philological analysis to clarify and correct the text of the Jerusalem Talmud. This could easily have provided fodder for Shmueli, yet he remained silent regarding Lieberman’s method. Recently published letters show that even the Ḥazon Ish engaged Lieberman seriously on these questions. Their correspondence reveals a principled disagreement over method, particularly regarding emendations grounded in manuscript evidence, while also demonstrating that such philological argumentation could be treated as a legitimate subject of rabbinic dispute rather than dismissed outright as heresy. Of course, since this correspondence had not yet been published, it cannot explain Shmueli’s silence on Lieberman’s approach.^[81]

This nuance is essential for understanding the Beys Yaakov article’s invocation of the Ḥazon Ish. Lieberman is not cast as a theological threat or ideological provocateur, but as a formidable talmid ḥakham whose methods, though troubling to some, remained bounded within an elite scholarly discourse. Halivni, by contrast, is portrayed as extending those methods in a more expansive and publicly consequential direction, one that, in Shmueli’s view, exceeded the implicit safeguards that had contained earlier forms of academic intervention. The result is a portrait of Orthodox engagement with academic Talmud that is internally differentiated, historically self-aware, and intellectually serious, far removed from caricatures of reflexive or indiscriminate rejection.

That differentiation, however, depended upon the boundaries of scholarly containment. It held only so long as the debate remained internal to a learned community. Nowhere does Shmueli’s anxiety emerge more sharply than in his discussion of Halivni’s contribution to the Encyclopaedia Britannica.^[82] Written in English for a general readership unfamiliar with the internal conventions of Talmudic study, Halivni’s article marks, in Shmueli’s view, the point at which an intramural scholarly debate enters the public register. At that point, silence becomes irresponsible. What is at stake is no longer a disputed method within a learned guild, but the public representation of the Talmud itself: its authority, coherence, and standing before a wider audience.

Yet the subsequent reception of the controversy would hinge less on Shmueli’s carefully drawn distinctions than on the interpretation of a single line in the Beys Yaakov article itself.

The Mistranslation That Changed Everything

After developing its substantive critique, the Beys Yaakov article closes with a pointed rhetorical question:

!?האפשר לשתוק נוכח שערוריה נוראה מעין זו

The phrase is best rendered: “Is it possible to remain silent in the face of such a terrible scandal?”

Here we arrive at Shenker’s most consequential error. Shenker isolated the noun שערוריה (sha’aruriyah) and translated it as “abomination.” This was not a neutral lexical choice, but a serious mistranslation with far-reaching interpretive consequences.

In classical and rabbinic Hebrew, as well as in modern Hebrew, שערוריה denotes a scandal or public outrage, an event or claim that provokes alarm, indignation, and moral disquiet. Rooted in the semantic field of סער and סערה, it evokes turbulence and upheaval, suggesting commotion and protest rather than ritual pollution or theological deviance.^[83] The term therefore belongs to the register of public scandal and polemical critique, not to the technical vocabulary of halakhic or theological condemnation. It conveys gravity, even urgency, but it does not imply that the object in question lies beyond the bounds of religious legitimacy. By contrast, Biblical and rabbinic Hebrew possess precise and well-established terms for “abomination,” most prominently תועבה (toʿevah) and the ש־ק־ץ family (שקץ, sheqets; שיקץ, shiqets). These terms function as technical markers of religious repugnance and exclusion.^[84] תועבה denotes what is abhorrent before God, a term reserved for practices that are religiously intolerable, most prominently idolatry and acts explicitly proscribed as violations of the divine order. שקץ, by contrast, marks what is ritually defiling and categorically repugnant, designating objects or acts that are not merely objectionable but intrinsically contaminating within the cultic and halakhic system. In such usage, these terms do not merely register protest or indignation. They function as categorical markers of religious illegitimacy, designating acts or objects as intrinsically defiling and wholly intolerable within the normative order of divine law.

An Orthodox polemicist seeking to convey that level of categorical condemnation would almost certainly have employed one of these terms. Shmueli does not. His diction is emphatic but restrained, signaling moral alarm and scholarly urgency rather than theological excommunication. Translating שערוריה as “abomination” imputes to the article a category of judgment absent from the Hebrew. The difference is not rhetorical but semantic: the mistranslation shifts the text from protest to proscription, from scandal to heresy. One is reminded of the rabbinic topos of qotzo shel yod, the barely perceptible stroke of the yod (understood by Rashi as its right leg and by Rabbeinu Tam as its curved crown) whose alteration can overturn an entire halakhic construction.^[85] Shenker’s substitution performed precisely such a transformation. There is no plausible pathway by which the language of “abomination” could have entered the public narrative surrounding Halivni other than through this mistranslation. In doing so, it recast an argument urging engagement with a grave scholarly challenge as a declaration of religious intolerance and obscured the article’s actual posture, which was not to brand Halivni’s work as heretical but to insist that a development of profound intellectual and communal consequence cannot responsibly be met with silence.

The consequences of this lexical substitution extended far beyond Shenker’s 1977 profile. Once “abomination” entered the New York Times archive as the purported Orthodox verdict on Halivni, it became available for repetition as journalistic fact. Thus, when the Times published its 2022 obituary of Halivni, it reproduced Shenker’s framing and relied on the same source. The obituary’s headline, casting Halivni as a “controversial” scholar rejected by “many Orthodox rabbis,” thus rested in part on a mistranslation that had already transformed a bounded Hebrew critique of scholarly method into a sweeping theological denunciation. In this way, a single erroneous word became the pivot of a durable public narrative.

The Effect of Sensationalism

Israel Shenker’s mistranslation did not merely distort a phrase; it altered the character of the intellectual activity in which the Beys Yaakov Journal was engaged. The original article undertook a demanding and careful task: it presented a sophisticated academic methodology to an Orthodox readership, explained why that methodology posed serious difficulties within the traditional epistemology of Talmudic study, marshaled substantive scholarly objections, above all the position of the Ḥazon Ish, acknowledged internal differentiation within Orthodoxy, and articulated strong disagreement grounded in textual and methodological analysis. By rendering the article’s culminating language as invoking an “abomination,” Shenker recast sustained scholarly critique as fundamentalist denunciation, collapsing methodological dispute into theological outrage and substituting caricature for argument.

This inversion is especially consequential in light of the documented record of the Beys Yaakov Journal of reflective engagement with modernity, both in its prewar Polish incarnation^[86] and in its postwar Israeli continuation.^[87] Beys Yaakov was not a polemical broadsheet but an educational and intellectual forum that repeatedly confronted modern scholarship rather than retreating from it. Shenker’s portrayal effaced that history and compounded the distortion by mischaracterizing the journal as “an official publication” of Agudath Israel. It was not. Published by the “Central Beys Yaakov of Israel” and later by the “Bais Yaakov Women’s College,” the journal functioned as an educational organ aligned with Agudah but not as a party instrument. The distinction is substantive. Educational journals cultivate explanation and debate; party organs enforce discipline.

The encounter with Rabbi Professor David Weiss Halivni was therefore neither a reflexive ban nor an eruption of obscurantism, but a serious internal reckoning with a scholarly development understood to carry public and pedagogical consequences. The episode demonstrates how readily Orthodox intellectual life in the mid-twentieth century has been recast through external narratives that confuse methodological dispute with theological denunciation. To understand the controversy properly requires moving beyond journalistic distortion to the jurisprudential problem Halivni’s scholarship forced into view. The debate was not about temperament or piety, but about first principles: whether historical reconstruction can be insulated from normativity; whether halakhic authority rests on procedural continuity or on claims of historical transparency; and whether Orthodox institutions possess mechanisms capable of absorbing critical candor without destabilizing the structures of authority they seek to preserve. It is to that institutional and conceptual terrain that we now turn.

[to be continued…]

Appendix 1: Yitzhak M. Shmueli, “A Cry of Alarm Concerning the New School of ‘Talmud Critics’!” Beys Yaakov, vol. 10, no. 4 [#116] (1969): 4-5 (Hebrew), available here:

Yitzhak M. Shmueli,

“A Cry of Alarm Concerning the New School of “Talmud Critics”!

Beys Yaakov, vol. 10, no. 4 [#116] (1969): 4-5 (Hebrew)

I.

“Ḥokhmat Yisrael” – that enterprise which was founded and ardently desired at the initiative of the various exponents of “Reform,” in all its forms – there is no falsehood and distortion more dreadful than it. This “root that bears gall and wormwood” – its earliest growth began in Germany, and there it affixed to itself the flattering yet deceptive name: “Wissenschaft des Judentums” (“the Science of Judaism,” in a literal translation from German). Within the bosom of this poisoned “science” arose all the movements of assimilation and derision away from Judaism. Generations of upright Jews fell into this trap. Many – far, far too many – this very “Ḥokhmat Yisrael” led all the way to the gates of apostasy, Heaven forfend.

All the venomous “wisdom” of the founders and disseminators of this “science” concerning “Judaism” in fact drew its sustenance from the sources of malice inherent in German, gentile “Biblical Criticism.” There were German scholars who regarded themselves as immense experts in the knowledge of the “East” (“Orientalistics,” in the foreign tongue), and, being afflicted with hatred of Israel, jealousy and the impulse of enmity toward the Book of Books burned within them. From this was born their aspiration “to criticize the Bible” in the most bizarre forms. And the matter is well known to the discerning. Several of the Christian researchers in Germany, foremost among them the orientalist Wellhausen – notorious for his attacks and his arrogant “discoveries” against the integrity and originality of the Bible – in fact founded the modern school of “Biblical Criticism.” And to our shame, even a few scholars from among our brethren, the Children of Israel, adhered to this path, taking hold of the seeds of self-directed malice, and lent their hand and their strength to the expansion and dissemination of this poisonous “science,” whose very point of departure was permeated with hatred of Israel.

This is neither the place nor the proper hour to display publicly all the falsehoods and malicious distortions that have accumulated around this discipline of “Biblical Criticism,” which, from the moment Jews too began to engage in it, cloaked itself in the new guise of “Ḥokhmat Yisrael.”

The historical truth is that this entire “science” known as “Biblical Criticism” has long since been exposed as false – and of all the mountains of nonsense and all the towers of lies that were heaped up and constructed by the celebrated “Biblical critics,” there remains no longer one stone upon another, one brick upon another, most evidently so. Indeed, it is precisely the scientific discoveries of the most recent period – and first and foremost the discovery of the “hidden scrolls” – that have decisively demolished the foundations of this deceptive “science.”

From time to time, modern Israeli archaeologists burst forth in cries of astonishment: Behold and see, to what degree everything found in the Holy Scriptures is precise!

And the historical truth is being clarified from every perspective. For these “Biblical critics,” not a few of whom are in fact complete ignoramuses regarding the Torah of Israel as a Torah of life and as the Torah of eternity, are accustomed to “correcting” the books of the Bible in accordance with whatever arises from their most confused and wildly unrestrained imagination. And suddenly, from ancient caves, hidden scrolls are found dating from nearly two thousand years ago, and everything written within those original and authentic scrolls – which renowned scholars examine and scrutinize – contradicts and refutes those sophistic vapidities and heaps of nonsense that were crowned with the title “Biblical science.”

And beyond this, the archaeologists engaged in excavations at historical sites in the Land also have something to say. And they demonstrate – as, for example, the Israeli archaeologist Dr. Moshe Kochavi recently demonstrated, who organized and directed the excavations in the Negev and in the Judean Mountains:

“The geographical record in Scripture has been proven by the discoveries in our excavations to be an exceptionally precise and reliable measure! In the Book of Joshua, chapter 15, there is found a detailed delineation of the boundaries of the tribe of the sons of Judah, their cities and their settlements, and all the discoveries made by our archaeological unit, which encompassed approximately twenty-five sites from the period of the kings of Judah, definitively confirmed that the entire division into districts – in the wilderness, in the hill-country, in the lowland, and in the Negev – is completely accurate; it accords with the standards demanded by every rigorous modern geographer!”

Ḥazal already said: “Yehudah ve-‘od la-qera” – that is, is there any further need whatsoever to confirm what is written in the Torah? In this generation, therefore, the whole-hearted faithful of Israel – loyal to the Torah and continuers of the heritage of Judaism – can, for their part, dispense with all those “authoritative confirmations” as well as the “scientific corroborations” of those “rigorous modern geographers.” But those great “sages” of Biblical Criticism – what answer can they possibly offer in the face of all the archaeological discoveries?

II.

And behold, there has emerged the newest fashion of “Talmud Criticism,” as a link integrated into the chain of distortions of “Ḥokhmat Yisrael” – which contains no “wisdom,” and whose association with “Israel” is exceedingly dubious.

It is a sacred obligation to raise a mighty voice of protest against the new “school” of the pretentious “Talmud critics,” who are liable to mislead pure souls among the Children of Israel. It is a double obligation to sound the alarm and to warn, since the dangerous initiative to harm – Heaven forbid – the foundational sources of the Oral Torah has now issued forth from a group of scholars concentrated around the “Schechter Seminary” in New York, whose official name is the “Jewish Theological Seminary,” and which is known as the “spiritual center” of the Conservative (“traditionalist”) movement in America.

As the first swallow heralding the emergence of the new method, there has now appeared, published by “Dvir” in Tel Aviv, a book entitled Sources and Traditions – Explanations in the Talmud. Its author, David Halivni, presents himself as an “expert in Talmudic research” who grew up within the walls of the “Schechter Seminary” in New York, in the company of Professor Louis Finkelstein, head of the Seminary, and Professor Saul Lieberman, the Seminary’s chief scholarly authority.

A public alarm must be sounded regarding the dangerous and destructive tendency of these “Talmudic explanations,” for of itself there surfaces the characteristic comparison with that famous “commentary” on the Torah by Moses Mendelssohn, the founding father of Reform in Germany! And if one extends this historical comparison further, the author of this “Talmudic research” likewise employs an innocent formulation and continually lifts his eyes heavenward…

“‘Blessed is the Omnipresent’ – thus opens the book’s ‘Preface’ – ‘who has merited me to see in print my explanations… May it be His will that just as He has merited me to see in print my explanations on the Order of Nashim, so may He merit me to see in print my explanations on the other orders and other books.’”

As it appears, the destructive hand is raised openly, and the plan is rather broad: to attack all the orders of the Shas and the other sources of Ḥazal, by means of that rusted and poison-saturated weapon called “Sources and Traditions”…

In the author’s scientific idiom this is called “textual truth,” since he strives to demonstrate that the Talmud is supposedly filled and replete with “inaccuracies,” “changes in sources,” “deviations from the simple interpretation,” and the like – claims and arguments that were habitual upon the tongues of all the “Biblical critics.”

From the words of the “Introduction” it is plainly evident that the author knows the truth, and merely intends to rebel against it! He himself writes that variations in textual versions, together with the difficulties bound up with them, have long since become part of the traditions… and indeed, one who has grown accustomed to this – precisely in this he perceives the distinctiveness of the Torah, and that its very diversity is its superior virtue…

The author even knows how to cite the words and opinions of the great Torah authorities, the giants of spirit of the later generations, such as the Ḥatam Sofer or Rabbi Israel Salanter, who explained that the essence of the distinctiveness of the Oral Torah lies precisely in this: that not everything appears revealed and simple at first glance…

This was the considered view of the author of the Ḥatam Sofer (in his novellae to tractate Ketubbot):

“The forced explanations (the resolutions offered to account for the difficulties arising in the comparison of the words of Ḥazal) – most of them are true… however, the rationalizations and inventions – most of them are false, and they are what cover over the face of truth.”

And Rabbi Israel Salanter, founder of the Mussar movement, stated this explicitly (in the introduction to his work Tevunah):

“What is truth? Truth does not live by simplicity alone, for simplicity is but one branch among the ways of proof; and for the most part the cherished difficulties stand ready to wage war against simplicity and to dislodge it…”

And despite all this, the arrogant audacity of a young scholar such as he has not been satisfied – a man who presents himself as a survivor of the Holocaust and as a remnant of the Auschwitz camp – to the point that he dared to approach the holy and to voice such a venomous and destructive notion, as though “the tannaim who transmitted the baraitot and dicta” altered much and did not even sense the alterations… whereas this “new star” from the Talmudic factory of the “Schechter Seminary” knows how to decipher “the truth in its truest sense” and to “correct” very many passages in the Talmud, by inserting “corruptions” and “errors” into the accepted and sanctified text!

Is it possible to remain silent in the face of such a terrible scandal?

III.

The source of a great danger has been exposed – one that is public-spiritual in character, and not merely literary-scholarly. We have no dispute with the author of this “collection of explanations,” who, notwithstanding everything, is himself compelled to concede that this is in essence not a new invention of his own, and that there have already been such researchers within the domain of “Ḥokhmat Yisrael” who attempted to “explicate” the sugyot of the Shas by a textual “critical method”…

The gravity of the danger is inherent in this fact: that it is an “official product” of the “Schechter Seminary,” and consequently it will be recognized and accepted as a “scientific discovery,” and perhaps even as a “scientific challenge” on the part of the Conservative movement in America.

Several years ago, the heads of the “Schechter Seminary” in America made numerous efforts to confer upon themselves a name and standing as a “Talmudic” research institution. Above all, they relied upon the personality of Professor Saul Lieberman, a renowned scholar and master of knowledge in the disciplines of the Oral Torah. It was not difficult to grasp that the spiritual leadership of the Conservative movement could not remain indifferent to the mighty historical phenomenon that became apparent in America with the establishment and flourishing of several advanced yeshivot for Torah study and rabbinic instruction. The “rabbis” of the Conservatives were truly alarmed by the rise of the power and influence of Haredi Judaism (Orthodox Judaism) in America, and they sought to demonstrate that among them too a “spiritual revival” was taking place, and that they too intended to return and to revivify the connection with the heritage of Judaism.

In accordance with the manner of the Conservatives and of all varieties of Reform, who are oriented primarily outward and whose chief concern is to find favor in the eyes of the gentiles, so they then arranged (some years ago) a grand celebration “in honor of the Talmud,” to which the Chief Justice of the Supreme Federal Court in Washington, Earl Warren, was invited. And the great surprise of the celebration was that the Chief Justice of the highest judges in America delivered an enthusiastic address concerning “the ethics of the Talmud,” and set forth several of the principles of Talmudic ethics as a model and exemplar of justice and uprightness!

The speech of the Chief Justice was not an isolated occurrence in America, where in recent times interest in the sources of Judaism has grown. Thanks to authoritative English translations, Christian scholars obtained some access to the treasures of the Talmud. One scholar, an expert in international law, a gentile from birth, published in the pages of an important scholarly journal a special study on the “spirit of true democracy” which he discovered in the Talmud.

And it is an interesting matter that the scholar paid attention there to that foundational principle in halakhic clarification in the Talmud: that “these and those are the words of the Living God.” The expert in international law translated this into his own terms, as an expression of democracy and freedom of expression – that one does not silence the “minority opinion” and does not disregard the rational arguments of the “opposing side,” but rather grants (as is done in the Talmud!) full right even to the minority opinion to explain its outlook. Even after the ruling has been decided on the basis of the majority view – which precisely accords with formal democracy – the “Talmudic sage” continues to voice and present his opinion upon the pages of the Talmud!

In various forms and through various channels, some of the perspectives of the Talmud began to penetrate American society. The growth in the number of yeshiva students in America – many of whom are regarded as authoritative experts in the domains of modern science – transmitted many of the moral principles of the Oral Torah into the broader world.

Until there arose a young “Talmudic researcher,” among the trainees of the “Schechter Seminary,” and proclaimed from every possible platform that fidelity to the text of the Talmud is doubtful, and that one must begin “Talmudic criticism”…

This matter did not suffice with the preparation of the anthology of “Sources and Traditions,” whose entire purpose is to obscure the sources and to undermine the traditions, but he even offered his “merchandise” (apparently upon the recommendation of the heads of the “Schechter Seminary”) to the editorial board of the world-renowned Encyclopaedia Britannica.

From his pen emerged the article “Source Criticism,” appended to the entry “Talmud” in volume 21 of the Encyclopaedia Britannica. What is the entire tendency of this article – particularly when it appears in English and is directed to the general public and to scholars for whom both the sources of the Talmud and the spirit of the Talmud are foreign – what can it lead to? Destructive views such as these: “that one should not lose one’s reason because of the analyses of the sages of the Talmud, who were not precise in the historical sources.” Both absolute ignorance is embedded in them, and an evil spirit of slander and self-degradation drips from them!

IV.

This figure did not emerge merely to testify concerning himself; rather, he also serves to testify concerning the entire “Schechter Seminary.” And the matter exceeds the limited framework of “literary activity” in the domain of “Talmud Criticism.” The “Schechter Seminary” embodies the “fortress of spirit” of the Conservative movement in America – and not only in America.

In recent years, the “Conservative” leaders have revealed an aspiration for “conquest,” and they seek precisely to transform themselves into a “global spiritual movement.” Concurrently, part of their leadership issues “public declarations,” as though their entire purpose is “to preserve and to draw from the sources of Judaism.”

It is indeed true that the great Torah authorities in America, foremost among them the Gaon Rabbi Aharon Kotler, of blessed memory, related from the outset with great suspicion to all “signs of rapprochement” on the part of the Conservatives, since, according to da‘at Torah, even their “tendencies” bear a pronounced character of Reform. The great Torah authorities in America therefore warned that rabbinic organizations in the United States should not blur the “dividing line” between the Jewish communities and the Conservative associations. A fierce spiritual campaign was waged on this matter in the public consciousness of American Jewry. And now one sees plainly what may be expected even from the learned “masters of sources” within the Schechter Seminary.

Appendix 2: Menashe Unger, “A Survivor of Auschwitz Creates a New Method in Talmudic Interpretation,” Der Tog (10 March 1969): 5-8 (Yiddish)

Menashe Unger,

“A Survivor of Auschwitz Creates a New Method in Talmudic Interpretation”

Der Tog (10 March 1969): 5-8 (Yiddish)

Dr. David Halivni Weiss, a survivor of the Nazi extermination camp at Auschwitz, has developed a new method in the study of the Talmud, a method that has aroused wide and serious interest.

In an earlier article we described how the fifteen-year-old Eliyahu David Weiss Halivni was sent to the death camp at Auschwitz already possessing rabbinic ordination; how, under conditions of mortal danger, he studied Gemara together with fellow Jews in Auschwitz and in other death camps; and how, after liberation, he arrived in America. At the age of eighteen he began studying at the Rabbi Chaim Berlin Yeshiva, where he again received rabbinic ordination, this time from Rabbi Moshe Binyamin Tomashov. He later pursued studies at New York University and at the Jewish Theological Seminary, under the guidance of the eminent scholar Rabbi Professor Saul Lieberman. He ultimately became professor of Talmud at the Jewish Theological Seminary and at Columbia University.

His book has now appeared: Mekorot u-Mesorot: Biʾurim ba-Talmud (Sources and Traditions: Explanations in the Talmud), on the Order Nashim, published by Dvir in Tel Aviv. The volume comprises 728 pages, with an introduction of nineteen pages. The book has made a powerful impression in the world of Talmudic scholarship.

What constitutes the new method of Rabbi David Halivni Weiss?

Rabbi Halivni Weiss first emphasizes that more than four hundred Tannaim and more than three thousand Amoraim lived under widely differing historical and social conditions over a period of approximately six hundred years. It is therefore understandable that at times an Amora did not fully comprehend a teaching of a Tanna transmitted to him. There were Tannaim who possessed extraordinary memories and transmitted the teachings of earlier authorities in the academies. Yet even when their memory was exceptional, they were not always able to convey the precise wording exactly as the original Tanna had formulated it. As a result, discrepancies arose, and the Amoraim were compelled to discuss these matters in the academies in order to reconcile the transmitted teachings.

The Amoraim even leveled accusations against such Tannaim, declaring: “The Tannaim are destroyers of the world” (Sotah 22a), because they failed to transmit the halakhah of the Mishnah exactly as the earliest Tanna had stated it. Accordingly, one must strive to return to the original formulation of the halakhah, or to the original statement of the earliest Tanna.

How is this accomplished? By making systematic use of variant manuscripts of the Talmud, Midrash Halakhah, the Tosefta, and the interpretations of many early authorities that have been discovered in recent times in various libraries. We know that Rabbi Judah the Prince, the redactor of the Mishnah, himself sometimes transmitted a halakhah according to his own conceptual framework, and not exactly as the Tanna had originally stated it, in order to render it more intelligible.

To clarify this approach, we will offer one example, drawn from the first Mishnah in Tractate Berakhot. The Mishnah opens: “From when does one recite the Shema in the evening?” It states that from the time the priests enter to eat their terumah one may recite the Shema until the end of the first watch, according to Rabbi Eliezer. The Sages say until midnight, and Rabban Gamliel says “until the rise of dawn.” However, in Avot de-Rabbi Natan it is stated that Rabban Gamliel says “until the rooster crows.”

This raises a difficulty: why did Rabbi, the redactor of the Mishnah, transmit Rabban Gamliel’s opinion as “until the rise of dawn,” whereas Avot de-Rabbi Natan reports it as “until the rooster crows”? One might assume that these refer to the same point in time, that the crowing of the rooster coincides with the appearance of the morning star. Yet from the Tosefta in Tractate Taʿanit (1:6) we see that these two temporal markers are not identical.

The discussion there concerns a fast that begins in the morning, as distinct from fasts such as the Ninth of Av, which begin in the evening. A dispute is recorded between Rabbi and Rabbi Eliezer ben Rabbi Shimon. Rabbi maintains that one may eat “until the rise of dawn,” meaning until the appearance of the morning star, which is still considered night, whereas Rabbi Eliezer ben Rabbi Shimon rules “until the rooster crows.” From this it is evident that the two times are not the same.

Rabbi Halivni Weiss therefore concludes that Rabban Gamliel originally stated only that one may recite the Shema “throughout the entire night,” without specifying any precise endpoint. The later Tannaim then debated how long the measure of “the entire night” extended. Since Rabbi held that night ends with the rise of dawn, and since Avot de-Rabbi Natan indicates that he indeed held this position, Rabbi incorporated into the Mishnah the formulation that Rabban Gamliel says “until the rise of dawn.” In Avot de-Rabbi Natan, however, both views were preserved: Rabbi’s position, “until the rise of dawn,” and that of Rabbi Eliezer ben Rabbi Shimon, “until the rooster crows,” because the redactor of Avot de-Rabbi Natan apparently accepted the latter view and therefore recorded both.

A similar phenomenon appears in the text of the Passover Haggadah, where it states: “They would recount the exodus from Egypt all that night,” without specifying an endpoint. By contrast, the Tosefta at the end of Tractate Pesahim states: “They recount the exodus from Egypt until the rooster crows.”

Rabbi David Halivni Weiss has thus developed a method that may be described, in a certain sense, as Talmudic textual criticism, but in a positive and constructive manner. Already the Netziv writes in his Haʿamek Sheʾelah (Sheʾiltah 136, section 1) that “it is the way of the Talmud to reinterpret the Mishnah so as not to uproot the halakhic ruling.” That is, the Sages did not wish the accepted halakhah to stand in contradiction to an explicit Mishnah, and where necessary they even corrected the wording of the Mishnah so that it would conform to the accepted halakhah.

Rabbi Halivni Weiss presents a striking illustration from Tractate Taʿanit (26b). The Mishnah there states that on three occasions during the year the priests raise their hands in blessing four times a day, and it enumerates Shaharit, Musaf, Minhah, and the closing of the Temple gates. These occasions are fast days, Maʿamadot, and Yom Kippur. The Gemara asks: is there a Musaf prayer on a fast day? It answers: “Something is missing, and this is how it should read: On three occasions during the year the priests raise their hands whenever they pray.” We thus see that the Gemara itself emended the Mishnah.

Why did the Amoraim do this? Rabbi Halivni Weiss explains that Musaf was recited only on a communal fast. In Babylonia there was never a communal fast, as the Gemara itself notes, because only the Nasi could proclaim such a fast, and Babylonia lacked a Nasi, unlike the Land of Israel. In the Land of Israel, communal fasts did exist, but after the abolition of the Nasiate in the year 425 they ceased there as well. In the Mishnaic period, however, Rabbi correctly included Musaf among the prayers recited on such days.

Later Amoraim, who lived in Babylonia and knew no communal fasts even in the Land of Israel, were perplexed by the Mishnah’s implication that Musaf was recited on a fast day. In order to harmonize the Mishnah with the accepted halakhah, they therefore emended its wording and inserted the phrase “whenever they pray.”

Rabbi David Halivni Weiss places primary emphasis on the textual foundations of the Mishnah and the Gemara. He demonstrates, on the basis of early sources, that there existed variant versions of the Mishnah, such as the Mishnah of Rabbi Meir and the Mishnah of Rabbi Akiva, which differed in wording.

As an example, he points to the opening Mishnah in Tractate Kiddushin: “A woman is acquired in three ways: by money, by document, and by intercourse.” The Gemara in Kiddushin (9a) asks: “By document, how?” and answers that if a man writes, “You are betrothed to me,” the woman is betrothed. Rabbi Halivni Weiss asks how the formulation “your daughter” enters the discussion, when the Mishnah speaks of a woman. He explains that this baraita originally referred not to Kiddushin but to Ketubbot, chapter four, where the Mishnah states that a father has rights over his daughter’s betrothal by money or by document. The redactor of the Gemara in Kiddushin apparently possessed such a version and connected the baraita to the Mishnah in Kiddushin because it was the closest relevant context.

This, then, is the path of study of Professor David Halivni Weiss. He proceeds through all the tractates of the Order Nashim, Yevamot, Ketubbot, Nedarim, Nazir, Sotah, Gittin, and Kiddushin, offering on every folio his elucidations and explanations, thereby clarifying many passages that have long remained obscure. At times a single incisive observation resolves a complex Talmudic difficulty and causes an entire accumulation of questions, which scholars had struggled to answer, to fall away.

Rabbi David Halivni Weiss is an outstanding disciple of the eminent Rabbi Professor Saul Lieberman, who takes great pride in his student. Professor Rabbi David Halivni Weiss is the youngest professor of Talmud at the Jewish Theological Seminary. He is engaged in a monumental scholarly undertaking that will be appreciated by all the leading Torah scholars of the generation. Having published his major work on the Order Nashim, he is already preparing a commentary on the Order Moʿed, with the aim of completing a comprehensive work on the entire Talmud.

Rabbi David Halivni Weiss emerged from the valley of death as a fragile child, a living remnant who endured the years of torment in the death camps while preserving his Jewish identity. He has remained a deeply observant Jew, meticulous in every detail of halakhic observance. Through his new method he has conferred a great benefit upon the world of Torah scholarship with his work Mekorot u-Mesorot, which will surely be highly esteemed by all students of Torah throughout the world.

Appendix 3: The 1957 Warren Convocation and the Circulation of Talmudic Self-Incrimination Discourse

Shmueli notes in his article in the Beys Yaakov Journal the wider efforts of JTS to translate talmudic discourse into a public idiom of modern legal and ethical relevance, and specifically a visit by Chief Justice Earl Warren.^[88] During the 1950s, under the leadership of JTS Chancellor Louis Finkelstein, the Seminary promoted what it termed an “ethics of the Talmud,” presented as a normative program rather than antiquarian scholarship. Finkelstein described this enterprise as a kind of “fifth Shulḥan Arukh,” positioning the Talmud as a source of authoritative guidance for contemporary life.

The scope and aims of this project are documented in a substantial exchange between Finkelstein and Saul Lieberman in the mid-1950s.^[89] In a detailed letter dated July 22, 1955, Finkelstein outlined his ambition to develop what he explicitly termed a “fifth Shulḥan Arukh,” by which he meant a systematic exposition of rabbinic ethics derived from the talmudic corpus. The letter makes clear that the two had discussed the matter repeatedly and that Finkelstein regarded Lieberman as indispensable to its realization. He credited Lieberman not only for scholarly guidance but for shaping his understanding of the ethical dimensions of rabbinic literature, remarking that he sought to render “Professor Lieberman as an institution” into a durable intellectual framework. Lieberman’s reply articulates a distinctive conception of legal-ethical obligation. Jewish law, he argued, establishes only the minimal standards necessary for social existence; genuine ethical responsibility begins beyond that threshold. Ethical expectations vary according to intellectual and moral stature. Conduct that might be considered blameless in an ordinary individual could be ethically culpable in a scholar. Rabbinic literature, he maintained, preserves numerous episodes illustrating such graduated responsibility, and only a sustained analytical study of the entire corpus could yield a systematic code of rabbinic ethics. He wrote:

“I might have stated to you my position on Jewish law and legal ethics. I believe that they are only the minimum without which no society can exist. The real legal ethics begin beyond this minimum. Each individual is legally bound by an ethical system conditioned to his individual character, temperament and general stature. A certain behavior on the part of an ordinary man may rightly be considered blameless under the circumstances, but the same behavior on the part of a learned man should be considered ethically criminal. In between the ignorant small man and the learned great man there are numerous gradations of ethical principles which correspondingly should guide the individual according to his status. Rabbinic literature abounds in episodes which highly illuminate the particular ethical principles with which we are concerned. The general idea is that none is exempt from the moral duty to aspire for perfection, thus raising the standards of the ethical principles required by the law for the particular individual.”^[90]

This initiative took institutional form in September 1957 with the inauguration of the Lehman Institute of Ethics,^[91] marked by a scholarly convocation on “Law as a Moral Force,”^[92] attended by Chief Justice Earl Warren and described by one speaker as graced by the presence of “the most beloved citizen of our land.”^[93]

Contemporary coverage makes clear that the convocation was designed not only as an internal scholarly gathering but as a publicized civic event. Reporting on the occasion, The New York Times noted that Warren had “enrolled” at the Seminary for a three-day convocation held over the weekend of September 13-14, 1957, devoted to Jewish law and its relevance to contemporary legal problems, and described both his participation in scholarly discussions and his attendance at Sabbath eve services. Finkelstein was quoted as framing the event as a gesture of civic-cultural deference: the Seminary, he declared, sought to honor Warren by sharing with him “our most treasured possession – the Talmud and its teaching.”^[94] The report further translated rabbinic jurisprudence into American legal idiom, describing the Mishnah’s interpretive authority as “analogous to a Supreme Court decision,” and noting that Saul Lieberman’s Friday night lecture addressed procedural doctrines, especially self-incrimination and double jeopardy, that resonated directly with American constitutional discourse.^[95] A contemporaneous Jewish Telegraphic Agency report similarly quoted Warren as remarking that several American constitutional safeguards, including those against self-incrimination and double jeopardy, appeared to derive from talmudic law. While noting that protection against self-incrimination was “perhaps not as sacred now as in ancient times,” Warren nonetheless affirmed its continuing place within American jurisprudence.^[96] The episode illustrates the dynamic that Shmueli sought to resist: talmudic law presented as a moral-jurisprudential resource whose public legitimacy is ratified through elite American recognition.

According to Louis Finkelstein’s later recollection, Warren was so struck by Lieberman’s lecture that, despite an understanding that he would not speak publicly, he insisted on addressing the assembled audience. Warren reportedly expressed astonishment that such teachings were “almost a secret,” asking how it was that “nobody knows about it.” Public attention followed quickly. Finkelstein recalled that former President Harry S. Truman, then visiting New York, read the New York Times account of the event and declared, “If it is good enough for him, it is good enough for me,” before arriving at the Seminary together with Judge Samuel Rosenman, himself not merely a jurist but a leading Democratic insider and former presidential adviser closely associated with Roosevelt and Truman. Shmueli’s polemic thus draws upon a real and widely publicized episode in which the Talmud was presented to prominent representatives of the American political and legal establishment as a jurisprudential and ethical resource.^[97]

Although the text of Lieberman’s lecture, “Law as a Moral Force in Rabbinic Literature,”^[98] has not been preserved (and no recording was made, as it was delivered on the Sabbath eve), the intellectual aims of the convocation inaugurating the Herbert H. Lehman Institute of Ethics are articulated with unusual clarity in the published preface to Professor Shalom Spiegel’s address, Amos versus Amaziah.^[99]

The conclave was explicitly convened to explore the moral dimensions of law as articulated in ancient Hebrew sources and to assess their relevance to contemporary legal and civic problems. Chief Justice Earl Warren and former President Harry S. Truman were among the featured participants, and Warren was quoted as remarking on the “sense of humility” that follows from recognizing that “most of the good things that we find in our law and in our own institutions come from the wisdom of men of other ages.” Spiegel’s address, identified in the prefatory material as one of the principal lectures of the weekend, framed prophetic confrontation and biblical justice through the idiom of constitutional adjudication and judicial review; Truman reportedly described it as “one of the best [lectures] I have ever heard in my life.”^[100] In this respect, Spiegel’s published address offers a reliable index of the conceptual register within which Lieberman’s now-lost lecture was heard.

The episode circulated widely beyond the English-language press. Coverage in the Yiddish press highlighted the unusual image of the Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court sitting in the Seminary, wearing a yarmulke and studying Talmud together with Finkelstein and Lieberman.^[101] It was largely through this reportage that the episode entered the retrospective memory of circles associated with Yeshiva University. Decades later, Rabbi Hershel Schachter recalled in writing that R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik reacted sharply to Yiddish newspaper accounts of Lieberman’s talmudic exposition, particularly the suggestion that repentance could nullify liability to punishment in an earthly court, a claim difficult to reconcile with Makkot 13b. He reportedly dismissed such reports as devarim betelim (‘idle talk’) and invoked the Ra’avad’s critique of Maimonides.^[102]

Samuel J. Levine has recently suggested that Chief Justice Warren’s later invocation of Jewish law in Miranda v. Arizona (1966) may be traced to his widely reported 1957 visit to the Jewish Theological Seminary. According to Levine, the JTS encounter helped prepare the conceptual ground for Miranda, as contemporary accounts of the visit already portrayed Jewish law as an antecedent to Anglo-American constitutional protections, particularly in the area of self-incrimination.^[103] That framework, however, was already in circulation at least a year earlier and cannot be attributed solely to the 1957 Seminary visit.

Newly available correspondence complicates any linear account of influence running from Warren’s 1957 visit to the Seminary to Miranda (1966). In early 1956, Rabbi Norman Lamm, then a pulpit rabbi in Springfield, Massachusetts, published in Judaism a substantial essay written at the height of public controversy over the Fifth Amendment, explicitly framing ein adam mesim atzmo rasha (“no man can render himself legally wicked”) as the halakhic analogue of the constitutional privilege against self-incrimination.^[104] Far from offering a casual comparison, Lamm argued that halakhah went beyond the Fifth Amendment by rendering all criminal confessions inadmissible, even if voluntarily offered.^[105] This was the argument Warren would later cite in his majority opinion.

On March 19, 1956, more than a year before Warren’s appearance at the Seminary, Justice William O. Douglas wrote to Lamm that he had read the essay and found it “uncommonly suggestive,” praising its “penetrating analysis.”^[106] The letter demonstrates that Lamm’s comparative formulation had already circulated within the Court at the moment of its publication, independently of the later public staging of the JTS symposium. Although the precise circumstances under which Warren first encountered the essay remain unknown, Douglas’s correspondence establishes that the argument had entered the Court’s intellectual orbit well before the 1957 visit.^[107]

Contemporary Jewish press coverage of Miranda indicates that Warren’s footnote was promptly read in genealogical terms. An editorial in the Wisconsin Jewish Chronicle, titled “Grandpappy of the Fifth Amendment,” presented the decision as evidence that “the ancient Talmudic law” lay at the root of modern constitutional protections. Citing Lamm’s formulation of ein adam mesim atzmo rasha, it described the Talmud as the “great, great, great grandpappy” of the Fifth Amendment and treated the Court’s ruling as a contemporary reaffirmation of an ancient legal principle.^[108] Similarly, the St. Louis Jewish Light interpreted Warren’s reference to “ancient times” as an acknowledgment of Lamm’s 1956 formulation, stressing that halakhah not only anticipated but surpassed the Fifth Amendment in stringency.^[109] In both instances, a comparative footnote was taken as evidence of a historical lineage linking Jewish jurisprudence to American constitutional doctrine.

The JTS episode should therefore be understood not as the origin of Warren’s engagement with Jewish law, but as a conspicuous public moment that consolidated and legitimated a line of juridical reflection already underway.

This pattern of influence and circulation is also visible, albeit indirectly, in the later secondary literature produced within the Seminary’s own intellectual milieu. Aaron Kirschenbaum, whose Self-Incrimination in Jewish Law emerged from the JTS faculty orbit,^[110] neither mentions Warren’s widely publicized 1957 visit to the Seminary nor notes Warren’s later reliance on Norman Lamm’s 1956 essay in his majority opinion in Miranda v. Arizona. He does, however, call attention to Warren’s use of other secondary legal scholarship.^[111] The omission is striking, since Enker and Elsen themselves cite Lamm’s essay on the halakhic analogue to the Fifth Amendment,^[112] thereby situating Lamm’s argument squarely within the very body of legal literature on which Warren drew.

Indeed, Kirschenbaum explicitly situates his own engagement with self-incrimination in the political and legal climate of the early 1950s. Reflecting on his years at JTS, he recalls how he and his fellow students felt an almost compulsive need to render Moses, Hazal, and Maimonides “relevant,” reading classical sources through the selective lens of modern rights discourse. Under the pressures of the McCarthy era, he writes, congressional investigations and compelled testimony rendered the constitutional privilege of silence a matter of urgent moral significance. The formula “I refuse to answer… because my response would constitute self-incrimination” became, for him, not merely a legalism but a moral idiom. It was precisely this Fifth Amendment protection, he explains, that “captivated” him and first drew him into the surrounding legal literature.^[113]

Whatever the precise channels through which Jewish legal analogies entered American constitutional discourse, the Lehman Institute convocation represented a highly visible attempt to stage talmudic law as a public moral resource within elite American civic culture, and it was precisely this institutional posture that drew Orthodox critique. Yet the controversy surrounding the Lehman Institute and the 1957 Warren convocation was not without precedent. From the mid-1930s onward, Louis Finkelstein’s efforts to reposition the Jewish Theological Seminary as a locus of public moral and cultural authority had already provoked sustained criticism from Orthodox and right-wing observers, who viewed such initiatives as compromising rabbinic integrity in pursuit of external validation. Programs aimed at engaging Christian intellectuals or framing Judaism in universal ethical terms were repeatedly denounced in the Orthodox and Yiddish press as apologetic accommodation, and at times as missionary entanglement. Figures such as Aaron Rosmarin cast these projects as oriented less toward the cultivation of internal rabbinic tradition than toward securing legitimacy before non-Jewish audiences and American cultural elites.

Notes

1. Throughout this article, individuals are occasionally referred to by surname alone, in keeping with established scholarly convention. This practice is adopted solely for stylistic consistency and carries no implication of disrespect. ↑
2. Joseph Berger, “Rabbi David Weiss Halivni, Scholar Devoted to the Talmud, Dies at 94,” The New York Times (18 July 2022): A17. ↑
3. Ibid. ↑
4. See David Weiss Halivni, The Book and The Sword: A Life of Learning In The Shadow of Destruction (New York: Farrar Straus and Giroux, 1996); and Netiʻot Ledavid: Jubilee Volume for David Weiss Halivni, eds. Yaakov Elman, Ephraim Bezalel Halivni, and Zvi Arie Steinfeld (Jerusalem: Orhot Press, 2004). ↑
5. For the fullest methodological exposition of his theory of Talmudic redaction, see David Weiss Halivni, The Formation of the Babylonian Talmud, trans. Jeffrey L. Rubenstein (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013). See also H.A. Alexander, “David Halivni and Shamma Friedman: Conflicting Trends in Talmud Criticism,” Conservative Judaism, vol. 39, no. 3 (Spring 1987): 45-57; Ari Bergmann, Halevy, Halivni and the Oral Formation of the Babylonian Talmud (PhD diss., Columbia University, 2014) and Ari Bergmann, The Formation of the Talmud: Scholarship and Politics in Yitzhak Isaac Halevy’s Dorot Harishonim (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2021); and earlier in Irwin H. Haut, The Talmud as Law or Literature: An Analysis of David W. Halivni’s ‘Mekorot Umasorot’ (New York, Bet Sha’ar Press, 1982). A fuller treatment of Halivni’s method and its reception will be presented in subsequent essays in this series. ↑
6. For the subsequent editions in this series, see David Weiss Halivni, Mekorot u-Masorot: Seder Nashim (Tel-Aviv: Devir, 1969; Hebrew); David Weiss Halivni, Mekorot u-Masorot: Seder Moed, from Yoma to Hagiga (Jerusalem: Jewish Theological Seminary, 1975; Hebrew); David Weiss Halivni, Mekorot u-Masorot: Shabbat (Jerusalem: Jewish Theological Seminary, 1982; Hebrew); David Weiss Halivni, Mekorot u-Masorot: Eruvin-Pesahim (Jerusalem: Jewish Theological Seminary, 1982; Hebrew); David Weiss Halivni, Mekorot u-Masorot: Seder Nashim, second edition (Toronto: Otsereinu, 1992; Hebrew); David Weiss Halivni, Mekorot u-Masorot: Bava Kamma (Toronto: Otsereinu, 1993; Hebrew); David Weiss Halivni, Mekorot u-Masorot: Bava Metzia (Jerusalem: Magnes, 2002; Hebrew); David Weiss Halivni, Introduction to ‘Mekorot u-Masorot’, first edition (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2009; Hebrew); David Weiss Halivni, Introduction to ‘Mekorot u-Masorot’, second edition (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2012; Hebrew); David Weiss Halivni, Mekorot u-Masorot: Sanhedrin, Shavu’ot, Makot, Avodah Zarah, Horayot (Jerusalem: Magnes, 2012; Hebrew); David Weiss Halivni, Mekorot u-Masorot: Zevahim-Menahot (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2023; Hebrew); and see David Weiss Halivni, The Formation of the Babylonian Talmud, ed. and trans. Jeffrey L. Rubenstein (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013). ↑
7. David Weiss Halivni, Mekorot u-Mesorot: Seder Nashim (Tel-Aviv: Devir, 1969; Hebrew). ↑
8. A comprehensive bibliographical listing of Halivni’s writings, including digitized scans, is available on the Academia.edu page (here) curated by Menachem Butler in collaboration with Professor Halivni’s family. ↑
9. Israel Shenker, “A Life in the Talmud,” The New York Times Magazine (11 September 1977): 44-45, 74-82, available here. ↑
10. Margalit Fox, “Israel Shenker, 82, a Reporter With the Instincts of a Scholar,” The New York Times (17 June 2007): 23. ↑
11. Ibid. ↑
12. Israel Shenker, “Groucho, at 81, Discusses Favorite Topic- Women,” The New York Times (4 May 1972): 50; Israel Shenker, “Groucho Marx Uses Room Service to Press Suit,” The New York Times (5 June 1975): 40. ↑
13. Israel Shenker, “Borges, a Blind Writer With Insight,” The New York Times (6 April 1971): 48. ↑
14. Israel Shenker, “Former Chomsky Disciples Hurl Harsh Words at the Master,” The New York Times (10 September 1972): 70. ↑
15. Israel Shenker, “The Old Magician at Home,” The New York Times Book Review (9 January 1972): 2. ↑
16. Israel Shenker, “Picasso, 90 Today, Assayed By Critic, Curator, 3 Artists,” The New York Times (25 October 1971): 42. ↑
17. Israel Shenker, “Asimov, ‘on Fire to Explain,’ Writes 100th Book – About Himself,” The New York Times (18 October 1969): 35; Israel Shenker, “I.B. Singer As Traveler,” The New York Times (13 March 1983): 66-70. ↑
18. Israel Shenker, “A Religious Zionist Urges Compromise on Occupied Lands,” The New York Times (15 June 1978): 12. For contemporaneous coverage of the Oz V’Shalom movement – founded in response to Gush Emunim – see “Orthodox Group in Israel Forming Peace Movement to Oppose Gush Emunim,” The Jewish Week (11 June 1978): 24. ↑
19. Israel Shenker, “Professor, 80, Looks to Volume 18 of Jewish History,” The New York Times (26 May 1975): 31. ↑
20. Israel Shenker, “Solomon Zeitlin, Long a Professor of History and Rabbinics, Dies,” The New York Times (30 December 1976): 26. ↑
21. Israel Shenker, “Shabuoth Group Sifts Gossamer Threads of Torah, Particularly the Ten Commandments,” The New York Times (24 May 1969): 25; Israel Shenker, “Rabbi Gives Views on Birth Control: Cites Jewish Law and Bible on Marital Ethics,” The New York Times (30 November 1969): 50; Israel Shenker, “Rabbi Finkelstein to Retire; Joy of Study Undiminished,” The New York Times (28 September 1971): 41; Israel Shenker, “Two Are Named as Heads of the Jewish Theological Seminary,” The New York Times (28 October 1971): 43; Israel Shenker, “Rabbi to Give Nixon a Kingly Blessing,” The New York Times (19 January 1973): 16; Israel Shenker, “Adele Ginzberg, at 90, Says, ‘So What?’,” The New York Times (16 May 1976): 50; Israel Shenker, “Japanese Christian Is Awarded A Doctorate by Jewish Seminary,” The New York Times (31 May 1977): 33. ↑
22. See also Shenker’s profile of Rabbi Benjamin Kamenetzky, son of the renowned Torah scholar Rabbi Yaakov Kamenetsky, who fielded religious inquiries through a public telephone ‘Hot Line to the Rabbi’, in Israel Shenker, “On Wednesday, the Rabbis Answered the Phones,” The New York Times (19 May 1978): B1. ↑
23. See also Israel Shenker, “Deli Waiters Turn Polite for the 4th,” The New York Times (5 July 1969): 38; Israel Shenker, “Delicatessen Puts Clock Back 20 Years,” The New York Times (12 March 1974): 41; Israel Shenker, “For Customers Over 65, The Food Is Half-Price,” The New York Times (25 September 1974): 46; and Israel Shenker, “In Delis, 2d Ave. Is a Palace,” The New York Times (22 April 1977): C19. ↑
24. There were, of course, rare exceptions. See, for example, Israel Shenker, “Knishes and Latkes, Yes! But Chicken Wellington?” The New York Times (10 March 1971): 45; Israel Shenker, “Taste for Business Builds Brooklyn Knish Empire,” The New York Times (9 May 1971): 80; and Israel Shenker, “They Sing in Praise of Matzoh Brei,” The New York Times (19 November 1973): 44. ↑
25. Including, for example, Israel Shenker, “Ideological Labels Changing Along With the Label-Makers,” The New York Times (12 November 1970): 45,48; Israel Shenker, “Man and Machine Match Minds at M.I.T.: 5th Conference on Artificial Intelligence Seeks Ways to Smarter Computers,” The New York Times (27 August 1977): 8; Israel Shenker, “Lowell’s Sacco-Vanzetti Papers Are Opened After 50 Years,” The New York Times (10 December 1977): 12; Israel Shenker, “Freiheit Editor’s 75th Birthday Party Is in a Class by Itself: ‘Preserving the Language’,” The New York Times (12 February 1978), 48; Israel Shenker, “Webster, Noah (1758-1843): A Clearly Defined Reputation,” The New York Times (14 April 1978): B1, B5. ↑
26. Israel Shenker, “Behind the Scenes at the Savoy,” The New York Times (23 June 1985): 19, 36. ↑
27. Israel Shenker, “Lonely Sea Gate’s Streets Still Belong to Its People,” The New York Times (2 January 1972): A6; Israel Shenker, “Despair Fills Lower East Side Synagogues,” The New York Times (19 March 1974): 4; Israel Shenker, “What’s Nu? Bagel-and-Bus Tours of Jewish New York,” The New York Times (5 May 1976): 89. ↑
28. Israel Shenker, “The Miraculous Cheeseless Cheesecake: The Cheesecake Without Cheese,” The New York Times (5 July 1978): C1, C7. ↑
29. Israel Shenker, “The Twerski Tradition: 10 Generations of Rabbis in the Family,” The New York Times (23 July 1978): 38. See also Edward Reichman and Menachem Butler, “The Medical Training and Yet Another (Previously Unknown) Legacy of Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski, zt”l,” The Seforim Blog (2 February 2021), available here. ↑
30. Israel Shenker, “Hasidic Group Marks Its 100th Year,” The New York Times (2 June 1971): 46; Israel Shenker, “Hasidic Feat: Simple as Aleph, Beth, Gimel,” The New York Times (3 November 1977): A18. ↑
31. Israel Shenker, “Brooklyn Brothers Use Scribes’ Ancient Art in Torah Repairs,” The New York Times (27 July 1977): B1. ↑
32. Israel Shenker, “It’s Onward and Uptown For Hebrew Publishing,” The New York Times (1 August 1976): 40. ↑
33. Israel Shenker, “Dreydl Makers in City Preparing for What’s a Dreydl? You Shouldn’t Ask,” The New York Times (28 September 1970): 45; and Israel Shenker, “C.C.N.Y’s President Loses Dreydl Crown in Spin-Off,” The New York Times (7 December 1972): 106. ↑
34. Israel Shenker, “Brides and Bar Mitzvahs Bring a Rush on Yarmulkes,” The New York Times (20 June 1977): 31 ↑
35. Israel Shenker, “The Day the Waldorf Went Kosher,” The New York Times (23 Dec 1977); 20; and Israel Shenker, “With Them, It’s Always Strictly Kosher,” The New York Times (15 April 1979): 32-33, 36-38, 40, 42. ↑
36. Israel Shenker, “On El Al, They’d Rather Walk: It’s Up and Down the Aisles, Even at Meal Times,” The New York Times (15 November 1968): 93. ↑
37. Israel Shenker, “Isaac Singer’s Perspective on God and Man,” The New York Times (23 October 1968): 49, 94; Israel Shenker, “A Bit of Reality by I.B. Singer and Son,” The New York Times (17 April 1970): 44; and Israel Shenker, “The Man Who Talked Back to God: Isaac Bashevis Singer, 1904-91,” The New York Times Book Review (11 August 1991): 11. ↑
38. Israel Shenker, “Harvard’s Resident Sage Marks 85th Birthday Today,” The New York Times (2 November 1972): 45, 86, available here. He later wrote Wolfson’s obituary in Israel Shenker, “Harry Wolfson, 86, Philosopher of Religion at Harvard, is Dead,” The New York Times (21 September 1974): 32, available here. For another contemporaneous tribute, see Mark Jay Mirsky, “Our Greatest Sage: Elegy for Harry Wolfson,” The Village Voice (13 January 1975): 39-41, available here. ↑
39. Israel Shenker, “Lubavitch Rabbi Marks His 70th Year With Call for ‘Kindness’,” The New York Times (27 March 1972): 39. ↑
40. Israel Shenker, “Israeli Historian Denies Jews Yielded to the Nazis ‘Like Sheep’,” The New York Times (6 May 1970): 2; Israel Shenker, “How Yiddish Survives At 2 New York Schools,” The New York Times (16 January 1974): 68; Israel Shenker, “An Awesome Reliving of Auschwitz Unfolds at St. John’s,” The New York Times (4 June 1974): 39; Israel Shenker, “The Holocaust: Did God Want It?” The New York Times (6 June 1974): 38; Israel Shenker, “The Holocaust Was ‘Radical Counter-Testimony’ to Religion,” The New York Times (9 June 1974): E5; Israel Shenker, “Scholars at Holocaust Conference Here Seek Answers to the Unanswerable,” The New York Times (4 March 1975): 13; Israel Shenker, “Jewish Cultural Arts: The Big Debate,” The New York Times (13 January 1976): 42; Israel Shenker, “Diverse Views Given on U.S. Jewish Experience,” The New York Times (22 March 1976): 55; and Israel Shenker, “Conference Ponders Who’s a Jew and Why,” The New York Times (26 May 1976): 18; ↑
41. Israel Shenker, Coat of Many Colors: Pages from Jewish Life (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1985). ↑
42. Israel Shenker, “Israeli Scholar Preparing New Edition of Talmud,” The New York Times (19 September 1971): 78. ↑
43. And on the controversy two decades later on Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz’ edition of the Talmud, see Haim Shapiro, “Talmudist Continues Down Path of Peace,” The Jewish Week (25 August 1989): 2, 31; Leon Wieseltier, “Unlocking the Rabbis’ Secrets: Review of ‘The Talmud’, by Adin Steinsaltz,” The New York Times Book Review (17 December 1989): 3, 31; Haim Shapiro, “Moving Up The Charts: Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz’s English Translation of the Talmud is Becoming A Surprisingly Hot Seller Abroad,” The Jerusalem Post Magazine (9 March 1990): 7-8; Jonathan Sacks, “Steinsaltz the Polymath,” The London Jewish Chronicle (2 March 1990): 27; Jacob Neusner, “Letter – Steinsaltz’s Say-So,” The Forward (7 December 1990): 6; Jacob Neusner, “Along with the Sizzle, Plenty of Beef: Review of ‘The Talmud: The Steinsaltz Edition, vol. 1: Tractate Bava Metzia. Part 1’, by Adin Steinsaltz,” in Jacob Neusner, ed., Approaches to Ancient Judaism: New Series, vol. 2 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990), 57-65; Emanuel Rackman, “Carved in Stone: Some Powerful Rabbis Won’t Accept New Talmud Interpretations,” The Jewish Week (22 February 1991): 31; and Chaim Rapoport, “On Publishing the Talmud in Translation and With New Commentaries,” Ohr Yisroel, vol. 13, no. 2 (December 2007): 53-88 (Hebrew). ↑
44. Israel Shenker, “Israeli Scholar Preparing New Edition of Talmud,” The New York Times (19 September 1971): 78. Professor Louis Finkelstein held a very different view on another aid to Talmudic study, a concordance of the Talmud. In that instance, he praised the work describing it as “important as the Dead Sea Scrolls,” because “except for the rare scholar” it was nearly impossible to identify parallel, and potentially related, Talmudic terms. Perhaps JTS sponsorship of the concordance may account for the different treatments of the two works. See Harry Gilroy, “Index to Talmud is Reported Half Finished,” The New York Times (1 April 1968): 42. As well, JTS was involved in the publication of the El Am Talmud. See Moses Eskolosky, “New Key to Talmud’s Treasure Trove,” The United Synagogue Review, vol. 18, no. 1 (July 1965): 14-17; and Elie Wiesel, “A Proposal on How to Learn Talmud with Children,” Forverts (22 September 1967): 2, 5 (Yiddish). ↑
45. Israel Shenker, “Responsa: The Law as Seen by Rabbis for 1,000 Years,” The New York Times (5 May 1975): 33, 61. ↑
46. Israel Shenker, “Hats Are Off to Kremlinologists, an Endangered Species in Era of Détente,” The New York Times (20 September 1974): 41, 77. ↑
47. Israel Shenker, “When a Patient’s Dreams Put Him to Sleep, He May Defy Analysis,” The New York Times (17 December 1976): 29. ↑
48. Israel Shenker, Coat of Many Colors: Pages from Jewish Life (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1985), 74. ↑
49. Moshe Feinstein, “Introduction,” in Iggerot Moshe, vol. 1 (New York: New York: Noble Book Press Corp., 1959), 3-4 (Hebrew). ↑
50. See also Tovia Preschel, “Profile of Rav Moshe Feinstein,” The Jewish Press (27 July 1962): 3; Emanuel Rackman, “Halachic Progress: Rabbi Moshe Feinstein’s Igrot Moshe on Even ha-Ezer,” Judaism: A Quarterly Journal, vol. 13, no. 3 (Summer 1964): 365-373; Aaron Kirschenbaum, “Rabbi Moshe Feinstein’s Responsa: A Major Halachic Event,” Judaism: A Quarterly Journal, vol. 15, no. 3 (Summer 1966): 364-373, available here; “Orthodox Jewish Leader Points To A Remedy For Today’s Many Problems,” The American Examiner (16 April 1970): 1-2; Marvin Schick, “Rabbi Moshe Feinstein: A Genius in Learning, Service and Loving Kindness,” The Long Island Jewish World (17 April 1986): 6-7; Harel Gordin, “Torah Sage of America: Rabbi Moses Feinstein,” in Benjamin Brown and Nissim Leon, eds., The Gedolim: Leaders Who Shaped the Israeli Haredi Jewry (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2017), 430-455 (Hebrew); and Aviad Hacohen, “Everything Is according to the American Custom: A New Custom for a New Country,” in Joseph Isaac Lifshitz, Naomi Feuchtwanger-Sarig, Simha Goldin, Jean Baumgarten, and Hasia Diner, eds., Minhagim: Custom and Practice in Jewish Life (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2019), 235-324, available here. ↑
51. Ira Wolfman, “Israel Shenker, A Jewish Writer, Sweet and Sour,” The Long Island Jewish World (24 July 1986): 16. ↑
52. Baruch Halpern, From Gods to God: The Dynamics of Iron Age Cosmologies (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 7. ↑
53. Margalit Fox, “Israel Shenker, 82, a Reporter With the Instincts of a Scholar,” The New York Times (17 June 2007): 23. ↑
54. Ira Wolfman, “Israel Shenker, A Jewish Writer, Sweet and Sour,” The Long Island Jewish World (24 July 1986): 16. ↑
55. Israel Shenker, “In Wales, A Bookworm’s Holiday,” The New York Times (2 June 1985): 32. ↑
56. Israel Shenker, Words and Their Masters (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1974); Israel Shenker, Harmless Drudges: Wizards of Language: Ancient, Medieval, and Modern (Bronxville: Barnhardt, 1979). ↑
57. Israel Shenker, Following Tocqueville through Joyce’s Dublin (New York: Random House, 1972). ↑
58. Israel Shenker, In the Footsteps of Johnson and Boswell (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1984). ↑
59. Israel Shenker and Mary Shenker, As Good as Golda: The Warmth and Wisdom of Israel’s Prime Minister (New York: Random House, 1970). ↑
60. Yitzhak M. Shmueli, “A Cry of Alarm Concerning the New School of ‘Talmud Critics’!” Beys Yaakov, vol. 10, no. 4 [#116] (1969): 4-5 (Hebrew), available here, with translation in Appendix 1 below. ↑
61. See Shmuel Ashkenazi, Iggeret Shmuel, vol. 1 (Jerusalem, 2021), 404 (Hebrew), who subjects another article by “Rabbi Yitzhak M. Shmueli” to sustained critique, describing it as a conspiratorial construction lacking evidentiary support. Through close examination of manuscripts, historical context, and philological detail, Ashkenazi argues that Shmueli’s claim of deliberate textual manipulation for anti-Hasidic purposes is unsupported and rests on conjecture rather than demonstrable proof; see ibid., 401–404. The episode is instructive insofar as it illustrates a broader feature of Shmueli’s polemical style. Apart from this case, Shmueli published only a small number of additional essays on the same figure, most of which are similarly rhetorical and accusatory in tone rather than analytically substantiated; see Beys Yaakov, nos. 113–114 (September 1968): 28-30, 36 (Hebrew); and Beys Yaakov, nos. 160–161 (May 1973): 4-6 (Hebrew). ↑
62. David Weiss Halivni, Mekorot u-Mesorot: Seder Nashim (Tel-Aviv: Devir, 1969; Hebrew). ↑
63. Yitzhak M. Shmueli’s article against Halivni in Beys Yaakov constitutes an explicit counter-intervention to the laudatory presentation of David Weiss Halivni’s work published days earlier in Menashe Unger, “A Survivor of Auschwitz Creates a New Method in Talmudic Interpretation,” Der Tog (10 March 1969): 5-8 (Yiddish), translated below in Appendix 2. Unger’s review introduced Mekorot u-Mesorot to a broad Yiddish-reading public, highlighting Halivni’s Holocaust biography, his punctilious Orthodox observance, and, above all, his standing as a distinguished disciple of Professor Saul Lieberman. Framed in these terms, the article suggested that Halivni’s method warranted acceptance within Orthodox circles, treating Lieberman’s imprimatur and Halivni’s personal piety as sufficient markers of legitimacy. It is precisely this public strategy of legitimation, rather than the mere circulation of a scholarly monograph, that the Beys Yaakov article appears designed to contest. ↑
64. See, for example, the Dan Rabinowitz, “Between Authority and Inquiry: Beyond the Masthead of the Beys Yaakov Journal, 1923-1980 – Part 1,” The Seforim Blog (22 December 2025), available here. ↑
65. On this motif, see Zev Eleff and Menachem Butler, “Moses Mendelssohn and the Orthodox Mind,” The Lehrhaus (9 January 2017), available here; see, now, Yoav Schaefer, “Haskalah in Berlin: Moses Mendelssohn, Immanuel Kant, and the Foundations of Reform Judaism,” in Stanley M. Davids and Leah Hochman, eds., Re-forming Judaism: Moments of Disruption in Jewish Thought (New York: CCAR Press, 2023), 147-164. ↑
66. For a more differentiated historical account of Wissenschaft des Judentums and its complex relationship to modern biblical criticism, see Edward Breuer and Hanan Gafni, “Jewish Biblical Scholarship between Tradition and Innovation,” in Magne Sæbø, ed., Hebrew Bible-Old Testament, The History of Its Interpretation, vol. 3: From Modernism to Post-Modernism (The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries) (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013), 262-303.These studies present a more differentiated genealogy than the schematic lineage invoked by Shmueli. ↑
67. David Weiss Halivni, “Talmud: Source Criticism,” Encyclopedia Britannica, vol. 21 (1963): 645, available here. ↑
68. For documentation of the 1957 Lehman Institute convocation inaugurating the Lehman Institute of Ethics, including Chief Justice Warren’s participation, contemporaneous press coverage, later recollections, and the subsequent circulation of talmudic self-incrimination discourse within Supreme Court circles, see Appendix 3 (“The 1957 Warren Convocation and the Circulation of Talmudic Self-Incrimination Discourse”). ↑
69. Aaron Rosmarin, An Answer (To the Polemic surrounding the Jewish Theological Seminary) (New York: 1943; Yiddish). ↑
70. Aaron Rosmarin, “Whither the Jewish Theological Seminary?” The Jewish Forum, vol. 17, no. 8 (September 1934): 239-246; Aaron Rosmarin, “Whither the Jewish Theological Seminary?” The Jewish Forum, vol. 17, no. 10 (November 1934): 315-319; Aaron Rosmarin, “Whither the Jewish Theological Seminary?” The Jewish Forum, vol. 18, no. 1 (January 1935): 6-8. ↑
71. Aaron Rosmarin, “‘Hold-up’ on Sukkot,” Der Tog (28 September 1934): 9 (Yiddish). ↑
72. Aaron Rosmarin, “American Jewry Awake,” The Jewish Spectator, vol. 4, no. 1 (November 1938): 18-21; Aaron Rosmarin, “Editorial: Missionaries in a Rabbinical Seminary,” The Jewish Spectator, vol. 7, no. 2 (December 1941): 4-5; Aaron Rosmarin, “Is The Jewish Theological Seminary of America Becoming A Den of Missionaries?” The Jewish Spectator, vol. 7, no. 3 (January 1942): 13-16; Aaron Rosmarin, “Editorial: ‘Honors’ for Dr. Finkelstein,” The Jewish Spectator, vol. 13, no. 2 (December 1947): 5; Louis Feinberg and Aaron Rosmarin, “Post-Scripts to the Finkelstein Controversy,” The Jewish Spectator, vol. 13, no. 4 (February 1948): 29-30. ↑
73. Dr. Aaron Rosmarin’s polemical posture is further complicated by the later fact that he refused to grant his wife a gett, a biographical episode that bears directly on the themes of halakhic coercion and moral accountability that animate his broader critique of rabbinic authority. See Marc B. Shapiro, “Saul Lieberman and his Ketubah, Driving on Shabbat, an Unusual Marriage Practice, Girls born on Friday, and More,” The Seforim Blog (28 January 2026), available here, and the forthcoming essay by Aviad Hacohen and Menachem Butler, “Trude Weiss-Rosmarin as a Philosopher of Halakhic Accountability: The Agunah Crisis and the Lieberman Clause in Postwar America,” which situates Weiss-Rosmarin’s polemic against rabbinic institutional impotence within the longer history of Orthodox–Conservative conflict over authority, jurisdiction, and moral responsibility in Jewish divorce law. Although Rosmarin’s anti-JTS campaign spanned more than a decade and generated a substantial polemical corpus across Yiddish and English venues, it has not yet been reconstructed systematically as an object of intellectual or institutional history; a full study of his sustained polemic against the Seminary remains a scholarly desideratum. ↑
74. For extended discussion of the Ḥazon Ish’s approach to manuscripts and textual emendation, see Moshe Bleich, “The Role of Manuscripts in Halakhic Decision-Making: Hazon Ish, His Precursors and Contemporaries,” Tradition: A Journal of Orthodox Jewish Thought, vol. 27, no. 2 (Winter 1993): 22-55; Benjamin Brown, “The Method of Study of the Ḥazon Ish in Contrast to the Approach of Critical Scholarship,” in The Ḥazon Ish: Halakhist, Believer and Leader of the Haredi Revolution (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2011), 384-397 (Hebrew); and Hannah Kehat, “Fortifying the Status of Torah in the Thought of the Ḥazon Ish,” in Aviad Hacohen, Yitzchak Avi Roness, and Menachem Butler, eds., Milḥemet Mitzvah, vol. 2: Religious Leadership and Halakhic Responsibility in the Military Service Debate (Cambridge, MA: The Institute for Jewish Research and Publications, 2025), 157-241. ↑
75. The Ḥazon Ish’s position will be analyzed in greater detail in our forthcoming article at The Seforim Blog. ↑
76. See David Golinkin, “Was Professor Saul Lieberman ‘Orthodox’ or ‘Conservative’?” The Seforim Blog (2 December 2014), available here; and Tuvia Preschel, “R. Saul Lieberman and His Scholarly Work,” in Ma’amarei Tuvia: Reshimot u-Ma’amarim, vol. 2 (Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 2017), 155-56. Preschel’s study remains, to date, the most reliable biographical treatment of Lieberman, albeit partial. By contrast, Elijah J. Schochet and Solomon J. Spiro, Saul Lieberman: The Man and His Work (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 2005), authored by two of Lieberman’s students, fails to do justice to either the man or his scholarship. Despite its publication by an academic press, the volume is largely hagiographic in character, relying heavily on unverified anecdotes and making little effort to reconcile these with the historical record. The authors’ uncritical devotion to Lieberman results in significant apologetic distortion, aimed at rehabilitating his standing among his students and within segments of the Orthodox world. For a more balanced and methodologically rigorous analysis of Lieberman’s complex relationship with Orthodox Judaism, see Marc B. Shapiro, Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox (Scranton: University of Scranton Press, 2007).A comprehensive critical biography of Lieberman and a full assessment of his scholarly legacy remain a desideratum. For now, see the Festschriften for Saul Lieberman in ha-Doar, vol. 43, no. 23 (5 April 1963; Hebrew); Researches in Talmudic Literature in Honor of the Eightieth Birthday of Saul Lieberman (Jerusalem: Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1983), (Hebrew); Saul Lieberman Memorial Volume (Jerusalem: Israel Academy of Sciences, 1983; Hebrew); Saul Lieberman Memorial Volume, ed. Shamma Friedman (New York and Jerusalem: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 2005; Hebrew); Saul Lieberman (1898-1983): Talmudic Scholar, ed. Meir Lubetski (Lewiston: The Edwin Mellen Press, 2002), and see also Elijah J. Schochet and Solomon Spiro, Saul Lieberman: The Man and His Work (New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 2005), and Marc B. Shapiro, Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox (Scranton: University of Scranton Press, 2007).Professor Aviad Hacohen is at work on a biography of Professor Saul Lieberman; for now, see Aviad Hacohen, “Two Scholars Who Were in Our City: Correspondence between Saul Lieberman and Jacob David Abramsky,” ha-Tsofeh Literary Supplement (21 April 1984): 5 (Hebrew), available here; Aviad Hacohen, “Schlemiel, Schlimazel, and Nebbich: Letters from Saul Lieberman to Gershom and Fania Scholem,” Haaretz Literary Supplement (25 April 2000): H1 (Hebrew) , available here; Aviad Hacohen, “The Tannah from New York: A Selection of Professor Saul Lieberman’s Letters,” Jewish Studies, no. 42 (2003): 289-301 (Hebrew), available here; Aviad Hacohen, “Six Days and Seven Gates: Between Israeli President Izhak Navon and Professor Rabbi Saul Lieberman,” Oneg Shabbat (9 June 2023), available here; Aviad Hacohen, “Lieberman Kifshuto: Personal Letters Revealing the Sensitive and Playful Side of a Talmudic Genius, On the 40th Yahrzeit of Professor Saul Lieberman,” Makor Rishon, Sabbath Supplement, no. 1338: Parashat Tzav (31 March 2023): 8-11 (Hebrew), available here; Aviad Hacohen, “The Generation Did Not Appropriately and Duly Appreciate Mr. Schocken [Eulogy by Rabbi Prof. Saul Lieberman for Shlomo Zalman Schocken, March 1960],” Haaretz Literary Supplement (28 April 2024): 1 (Hebrew), available here; Aviad Hacohen, “The Story of the Rabbi Who Rejected the Maxim: ‘Torah Scholars Increase Peace in the World’,” Haaretz Literary Supplement (25 May 2023): 8 (Hebrew), available here; and Aviad Hacohen, “‘A Lithuanian Mind in Its Lithuanian Essence, From Volozhin to Jerusalem’: R. Shaul Lieberman’s Intellectual Kinship with the Legacy of Lithuanian Torah & Its Bearers,” in Martin S. Cohen, ed., Essays in Jewish Studies in Honor of Rabbi Prof. David Golinkin (Jerusalem: Schechter, 2025), 101-139 (Hebrew), available here. ↑
77. See Ari (Yitzchak) Chwat, “‘Hokhmat Yisrael in Its Holiness’: Rav Kook’s Vision for True Critical-Scientific Study,” Talelei Orot, vol. 13 (2007): 943-976 (Hebrew); and Ari (Yitzchak) Chwat, “Rabbi Kook’s Connections with Prof. Rabbi Saul Lieberman as a Model for His Attitude Towards Critical Torah Research,” Tzohar, vol. 35 (2009): 59-66 (Hebrew), among other sources. ↑
78. Aviad Hacohen, “‘A Lithuanian Mind in Its Lithuanian Essence, From Volozhin to Jerusalem’: Rabbi Shaul Lieberman’s Intellectual Kinship with the Legacy of Lithuanian Torah and Its Bearers,” in Martin S. Cohen, ed., Shir Ha-Ma’alot L’David: Essays in Jewish Studies in Honor of Rabbi Prof. David Golinkin (Jerusalem: Machon Schechter, 2025), 101-139, available here. ↑
79. Saul Lieberman, “Letter to S.A. HaLevi and the editors of ha-Pardes,” in Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, Kitvei ha-Gaon Rabbi Yehiel Ya’akov Weinberg, vol. 2, ed. Marc B. Shapiro (Scranton: University of Scranton Press, 2003), 449-450 (Hebrew). ↑
80. Marc B. Shapiro, Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox (Scranton: University of Scranton Press, 2006), esp. chs. 2-4. ↑
81. See Shmuel Glick and Menachem Katz, “‘A Threefold Cord’: On Saul Lieberman and His Relationship with the Hazon Ish and Jacob Nahum Epstein,” in Shmuel Glick, Evelyn M. Cohen, Angelo M. Piattelli, et al., eds., Meḥevah le-Menaḥem: Studies in Honor of Menahem Hayyim Schmelzer (Jerusalem: Schocken, 2019), 269-289 (Hebrew). ↑
82. David Weiss Halivni, “Talmud: Source Criticism,” Encyclopedia Britannica, vol. 21 (1963): 645, available here. ↑
83. See Ludwig Koehler and Walter Baumgartner, The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (Leiden: Brill, 1994), s.v. סער, סערה; cf. modern Hebrew dictionaries, s.v. שערוריה, which define the term as scandal, public outrage, or moral tumult. ↑
84. Koehler and Baumgartner, Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon, s.v. תועבה (denoting what is religiously abhorrent, especially in contexts of idolatry or forbidden practice); s.v. שקץ (a detestable or ritually impure object, frequently in cultic contexts). ↑
85. See b. Menahot 29a, Rashi and Tosafot ad loc., s.v. Qotzo shel yod. For the modern afterlife of this rabbinic proverb, see Ben-Ami Feingold, “Kotzo Shel Yod: The Anatomy of a Satire,” Jerusalem Studies in Hebrew Literature, vol. 2 (1983): 73-103 (Hebrew); and Michael Stanislawski, For Whom Do I Toil? Judah Leib Gordon and the Crisis of Russian Jewry (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), 125-128. ↑
86. See Yossef Fund, A Banner for Youngsters: The Agudat Israel Children’s Press (Jerusalem: Carmel, 2021), 67-71 (Hebrew). ↑
87. See Yossef Fund, Separation or Participation? Agudat Israel Confronting Zionism and the State of Israel (Jerusalem: Magnes, 2009; Hebrew); and Yossef Fund, Assemble Youngsters of Yehuda!: The Youth Movements of Agudat Israel (Jerusalem: Carmel, 2023; Hebrew). ↑
88. For a foundational analysis of the internal intellectual dialectic at JTS, between an elite philological-textual tradition and a more publicly engaged mode of scholarship oriented toward translating rabbinic learning into contemporary civic and ethical discourse, and for an account that explicitly situates Finkelstein’s mid-century initiatives within that institutional tension, see Jonathan D. Sarna, “Two Traditions of Seminary Scholarship,” in Jack Wertheimer, ed., Tradition Renewed: A History of the Jewish Theological Seminary, vol. 2: Beyond the Academy (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1997), 54-80. ↑
89. See Elijah J. Schochet and Solomon Spiro, Saul Lieberman: The Man and His Work (New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 2005), 197-199. ↑
90. Letter quoted in Ibid., 197-198. ↑
91. Harvey E. Goldberg, “Becoming History: Perspectives on the Seminary Faculty at Mid‑Century,” in Jack Wertheimer, ed., Tradition Renewed: A History of the Jewish Theological Seminary, vol. 1: The Making of an Institution of Jewish Higher Learning (New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1997), 355-437, esp. 371. ↑
92. Louis Finkelstein, “Earl Warren’s Inquiry into Talmudic Law,” in Earl Warren: The Chief Justiceship (Berkeley: The Regents of the University of California, 1977), 1-24, esp. 4-5, recalling Warren’s weekend at JTS and describing Saul Lieberman’s lecture on the talmudic prohibition of self-incrimination and its relevance to Anglo-American constitutional protections. ↑
93. For the address delivered by the event’s principal patron, emphasizing the civic and moral framing of the convocation, see Simon H. Rifkind, “The Law as a Moral Force,” The Reconstructionist, vol. 23, no. 13 (1 November 1957): 8-12; reprinted in full, including the complete opening remarks, in Simon H. Rifkind, One Man’s Word: Selected Works of Simon H. Rifkind, vol. 1, eds. Adam Bellow and William Keens (New York: Keens Co., 1986), 367-374. Rifkind opened: “The annual convocations of this institution of higher learning are always grand occasions. To this convocation, however, I should like to attribute special virtues. First, because it is graced by the presence of the Chief Justice of the United States, who is also the most beloved citizen of our land. Second, because of its theme, since it is dedicated to the concept of the ‘law as a moral force.’ I feel obliged to recite the traditional prayer of gratitude. She-heḥeyanu ve-kiyyemanu ve-higgiʿanu la-zeman ha-zeh.” ↑
94. Richard Amper, “Warren Studies Talmudic Law Here,” The New York Times (14 September 1957): 1, 10, reporting that Chief Justice Earl Warren “enrolled” at the Jewish Theological Seminary for a three-day program on Jewish law and its contemporary relevance, including lectures by Louis Finkelstein and Saul Lieberman and Warren’s attendance at Sabbath services. ↑
95. Ibid.; and see Harvey E. Goldberg, “Becoming History: Perspectives on the Seminary Faculty at Mid‑Century,” in Jack Wertheimer, ed., Tradition Renewed: A History of the Jewish Theological Seminary, vol. 1: The Making of an Institution of Jewish Higher Learning (New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1997), 355-437, esp. 371-372. ↑
96. “Truman, Chief Justice Warren Attend Jewish Seminary Lectures,” JTA Daily New Bulletin, vol. 24, no. 178 (16 September 1957): 4. ↑
97. For contextual discussion of the Warren-JTS episode as part of a broader mid-century encounter between American legal culture and Jewish studies, see Shira Billet, “Harry S. Truman’s Bible and Earl Warren’s Talmud: A Forgotten Story in the Encounter between American Law and Jewish Studies,” Dine Israel, vol. 38 (2024): 11*-36*, available here. ↑
98. The title of this lecture was noted in “To Discuss Moral Force,” New Jersey Jewish News (13 September 1957): 2, available here. ↑
99. Shalom Spiegel, Amos versus Amaziah: Address Delivered at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America Weekend Convocation on “Law as a Moral Force,” September 14, 1957 (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1957). ↑
100. See also Harry S. Truman’s letter to Louis Finkelstein, Sept. 17, 1957, as found in the Library of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, in which Truman wrote that he had long known Amos 7 “word for word” and added: “I wish you would tell that able and distinguished rabbi [Shalom Spiegel] that I have never had a more pleasant experience than listening to his lecture.” This letter is quoted in Shira Billet, “Harry S. Truman’s Bible and Earl Warren’s Talmud: A Forgotten Story in the Encounter between American Law and Jewish Studies,” Dine Israel, vol. 38 (2024): 11*-36*, esp. 12*n9, available here. ↑
101. “Earl Warren, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, Studies Gemara at the Jewish Theological Seminary,” Der Tog (15 September 1957): 1-2 (Yiddish). ↑
102. See Hershel Schachter, MiPninei HaRav (Jerusalem: Flatbush Beth Hamedrosh, 2001), 223 (Hebrew), and then further in Hershel Schachter, “In a Court of Law, a Person Cannot Render Himself an Evildoer,” in Eretz ha-Tzvi (New York: The Michael Scharf Publication Trust of Yeshiva University Press, 1992), 237-240 (Hebrew). In an essay at The Seforim Blog, Yaacov Sasson notes that Lieberman’s reported explanation is difficult to square with Makkot 13b, which states explicitly that repentance does not absolve one from liability to capital punishment administered by an earthly court. He suggests a possible distinction between repentance prior to gmar din and repentance after sentencing, but stresses that such a harmonization is strained, departs from the plain sense of the sugya, and sits uneasily with the dominant trajectory of later halakhic interpretation. See Yaacov Sasson, “Gems from Rav Herzog’s Archive (Part 1 of 2): Giyus, Professor Lieberman and More,” The Seforim Blog (23 May 2018), available here. ↑
103. Newton M. Roemer, “Chief Justice Warren Studies Talmud,” New Jersey State Bar Journal, vol. 1, no. 1 (Fall 1957): 15. ↑
104. Norman Lamm, “The Fifth Amendment and Its Equivalent in the Halakha,” Judaism: A Quarterly Journal, vol. 5, no. 1 (Winter 1956): 53-59. ↑
105. Rabbi Norman Lamm’s engagement with Fifth Amendment discourse predates his 1956 essay and can already be traced in his public sermonic rhetoric during the height of McCarthy-era investigations. In 1954, the Springfield Union reported on a Sabbath sermon delivered by Lamm on the occasion of Albert Einstein’s seventy-fifth birthday, in which he praised Einstein’s resistance to Senator Joseph McCarthy and explicitly invoked the Fifth Amendment as a constitutional idiom of principled restraint under political pressure. The report describes Lamm’s interpretation of Einstein’s guarded response to congressional inquiry (“probably he was wrong”) as a lesson in the moral and civic meaning of the privilege against self-incrimination. See “Einstein’s Courage in Challenge to ‘Demagogue’ McCarthy Hailed,” Springfield Union (13 March 1954): 23. ↑
106. William O. Douglas to Norman Lamm, “Letter from Justice Douglas about Article on the Fifth Amendment and Halacha,” (19 March 1956), The Lamm Legacy, available here. ↑
107. Alan M. Dershowitz, Chutzpah (Boston: Little, Brown, 1991), 365 n.4, points that both Miranda v. Arizona, 86 S. Ct. 1602, 1619 n.27 (1966), and Garrity v. New Jersey, 87 S. Ct. 616, 627 n.5 (1967), cited Rabbi Norman Lamm’s article. In each instance the reference appears in a comparative-law footnote and serves an illustrative rather than doctrinal function. The citations demonstrate that Lamm’s argument was known to members of the Court and regarded as jurisprudentially suggestive, but they do not, standing alone, establish that halakhic doctrine exerted a determinative influence on the Court’s constitutional analysis. ↑
108. “Editorial: Grandpappy of the Fifth Amendment,” Wisconsin Jewish Chronicle (5 August 1966): 6. ↑
109. “Editorial: Jewish Law Revisited,” St. Louis Jewish Light (3 August 1966): 4. ↑
110. Aaron Kirschenbaum, Self-Incrimination in Jewish Law (New York: The Burning Bush Press, 1970). ↑
111. Specifically, to Arnold N. Enker and Sheldon H. Elsen, “Counsel for the Suspect: Massiah v. United States and Escobedo v. Illinois,” Minnesota Law Review, vol. 49, no. 1 (November 1964): 47-91. ↑
112. Ibid., 67n66, they cite Norman Lamm, “The Fifth Amendment and Its Equivalent in the Halakha,” Judaism: A Quarterly Journal, vol. 5, no. 1 (Winter 1956): 53-59. See the retrospective in Samuel J. Levine, “Rabbi Lamm, the Fifth Amendment, and Comparative Jewish Law,” Tradition: A Journal of Orthodox Jewish Thought, vol. 53, no. 3 (Summer 2021): 146-154. ↑
113. Yet his autobiographical account of those same years, when he was at JTS, makes no reference to Earl Warren’s 1957 visit, an omission that bears directly on the interpretive frame through which his work might otherwise plausibly be read. Aaron Kirschenbaum, Self-Incrimination in Jewish Law (New York: The Burning Bush Press, 1970), which emerged from the Seminary’s intellectual orbit, could easily be situated within the narrative of Warren’s celebrated encounter with rabbinic jurisprudence. Kirschenbaum himself, however, locates the origins of his interest elsewhere: in the political and legal pressures of the McCarthy era and in the contemporaneous moral salience of the Fifth Amendment privilege against self-incrimination. See Aaron Kirschenbaum, Autobiography (Tel Aviv: Olam Hadash, 2014), esp. 92 (Hebrew). ↑

Haftaros of Vayetze and Vayishlach – A Mistake Rectified[1]

By Eli Duker

There had been one practice throughout the Jewish world concerning the Haftara of Vayishlach until the print revolution. The book of Ovadia is the Haftara listed in every Haftara list, including the one in the Rambam’s Seder HaTefillos in the Mishneh Torah, MS Ginsburg Moscow of the Machzor Vitry,[2] Etz Chaim (written in London on the eve of the Edict of Expulsion),[3] Abudarham,[4] and the list of Rabbi Shmuel Hanagid, cited in the Sefer HaEshkol.[5] It is also the Haftara in the “Emes” piyyut written by Rabbi Shmuel Hashelishi[6] and the “Zulas” piyyut written by Rabbi Yehuda B’Rabi Binyamin.[7] This is also the Haftara listed in all chumashim in manuscript[8] and in all Cairo Geniza fragments⁹ that I have seen.

This was also the practice of those who followed the triennial cycle in Eretz Yisrael,[10] the Haftara for the sidra of Vayishlach Yaakov was from the book of Ovadia. The reason for the Haftara is clearly due to it being a prophecy about Edom, and Edom is discussed in depth in the parasha.

The universal practice in all communities was to read from the book of Hoshea for the Haftara of Vayetze, but not everyone read the same verses. In all Geniza fragments[11] the Haftara begins at 11:7, “Ve’ami seluim.” In the fragments with a clear end to the Haftara I have found 3 that end at 12:14,[12] which is similar to what appears in the list of in the Rambam’s Seder HaTefillos, making it a classic Haftara of exactly twenty-one pesukim. One source has it end at 13:4,[13] which is the “Zulas” piyyut written by Rabbi Yehuda B’Rabi Binyamin for this parasha,[14] as well as in the Sefer HaShulchan, written by a student of the Rashba. The reason for the Haftara is due to the verse “Vayivrach Yaakov ,” which is clearly related to the events of the parsha, as well as, possibly, the mention of “Bes El” in 12:5

There were two different Ashkenazi practices in the pre-printing era. One was to begin at 12:13, “Vayivrach Yaakov ,” and to read until the end of the book. This is the Haftara found in MS Ginsburg Moscow of the Machzor Vitry,[15] Etz Chaim,[16] and in 12 of the 16 Ashkenazi chumashim in manuscripts I checked. Outside of Ashkenaz this was the practice among the Romaniots. It is also found in the “Zulas” piyyut of Rabbi Shmuel Hashlishi,[17] who lived in Eretz Yisrael in the 10-11 centuries and belonged to a community that read the Torah according to the annual cycle (although the Haftara ends there at 13:4, making it a Haftara of just seven verses!). It was also the Haftara for the sedra of “Vayetze Yaakov” in the triennial cycle of Eretz Yisrael.[18]

The secondary practice in Ashkenaz, which I found in three chumashim in manuscript, was to read starting from 11:7. One manuscript has the Haftara ending at 12:14,[19] and the other two end at 13:5.[20] The latter is the practice of the Ashkenazi community of Amsterdam.[21]

The first printed chumash with Ashkenazi Haftaros was the Soncino, printed in Brescia in 1492. It had the Haftara beginning at 12:13, following most other Ashkenazi sources. The 1517 Bomberg chumash, printed in Venice, has printed Haftaros according to both the Ashkenazi and Sephardi practices, and has the Haftara for Vayetze beginning at 11:7. After 13:5, the word “כאן” in written, followed by something that was erased (in the microfilmed copy of the Israel National Library) followed by “ההפטרה לספרדים,” that this is where the Haftara ends according to the Sefardi practice, which is quite normative. But before 12:13, at the front of the page, the words “הפטרת וישלח לאשכנזים” appear. The Haftara of Vayishlach in that chumash is from Ovadia, without any instructions, indicating a discrepancy between the two practices. It is clear that a mistake was made here, as Hoshea 12:13 is an Ashkenazi Haftara for Vayetze, not Vayishlach.

The 1517 chumash did not sell well among Jews, likely because its editor, Felix Pratensis, was a Jewish convert to Christianity.[22] In 1524 Daniel Bomberg published another chumash, this time with Yaakov ben Chayim ibn Adoniya as his editor, and this edition was much more popular among Jews. It is essential an entirely different book, as this editor did not rely on the first edition, yet, the Haftaros were, by and large, copied from the first edition, with only minor changes. Concerning our topic, the Haftara for Vayetze is 11:7, without any indication that there are other practices. Right before 12:13 it is written “כאן מתחילין הפטרת וישלח האשכנזים” with no indication where Sephardim finish the Haftara. Here too, Ovadia is listed as the Haftara for Vayishlach, without any instructions indicating that there is a discrepancy between communities.

The popularity of the chumash (already called “Mikraos Gedolos”) created a situation where a new reality was created. The Ichenhausen chumash, published in 1544, merely copied the Haftaros and their instructions from the second Bomberg chumash.

By contrast, another Venetian publisher, Marco Antonio Giustiani, also in 1544, went even further, and wrote in his chumash concerning the Haftara from Ovadia as “הפטרת וישלח כמנהג בני ספרד”. The instructions in this chumash created three changes:

• It shortened the Sephardi Haftara for Vayetze and ended it at 12:12, a verse that that discusses the Israelites performing pagan sacrifices and the ramifications of this, an extremely inappropriate way to complete a Haftara.
• It ignored the widespread Ashkenazi practice to begin the Haftara of Vayetze from 12:13. Instead, it has them all starting at 11:7 (as well as completing the Haftara at 12:12, which was unheard of).
• It created a new Ashknenazi Haftara for Vayishlach, from Hoshea, which has nothing to do with the parsha at all, and did away with the reading from Ovadia, which had been a universal practice until that time.

Not all chumashim “ruled” in such a manner. In the Lublin chumash of 1517, the original Ashkenazi Haftaros of Hoshea 12:13 for Vayetze and Ovadia for Vayishlach were listed. Likewise, the Levush, published in 1590, listed these Haftaros as well.

Soon after, we begin to see many chumashim following the new practice. For example: Manitoba – 1589, Frankfurt am Main – 1662, Venice – 1684, as well Haftara books published in Frankfurt Oder in 1685 and in 1708. Yet, I found chumashim from this period with the original Ashkenazi Haftaros, but they were both printed in Prague, which is known to have kept the original practice, as will be discussed below.

The first to point out the error of the new chumashim was Rabbi Avraham Gombiner, in his commentary, Magen Avraham, on Orach Chayim of Shulchan Aruch in siman 428:[23]

מה שכתב בחומשי’ ויברח יעקב לפ’ וישלח ט”ס הוא ושייכ’ לפ’ ויצא (לבוש)

Magen Avraham was first published in 1692, after the author’s passing. He does not explicitly mention what the Haftara for Vayishlach is, but as he cites the Levush, it is clear that he meant it is from Ovadia, as with the exception of the new practice of reading Hoshea 12:13 for Vayishlach, which the Magen Avraham clearly rejects, Ovadia was the only known Haftara for Vayishlach. Nevertheless, chumashim printed after the publication of the Magen Avraham continued to list Hoshea 12:13 as the Ashkenazi Haftara for Vayishlach.[24] Even the chumash published by R’ Shabs ai Bass, author of the Sifsei Chachamim and publisher of Magen Avraham, had this as well.

In 1718 the book “Noheg Katzon Yosef” by Rabbi Yosef Yozefa Segal was published, a work on the practices of German communities in general and Frankfurt am Main in particular. He wrote the following concerning parashas Vayetze:[25]

כתב בלבוש החור ס’ תרס”ט שהפטרה של סדר זו הוא ויברח יעקב, והפטרת וישלח הוא ועמי תלואים, עיין שם. והנה באמת במקומות שמחלקים שתי פרשיות אלו מהושע לאמרם לשתי הפטרות משתי שבתות אלו היה הדין עם הלבוש להקדים המאוחר ולאחר המוקדם. דכד נעיין ביה שפיר נראה שכתיב ויברח יעקב “ובאשה שמר” שהוא מלשון ואביו שמר את הדבר, כלומר המתין עד שתנא ראויה לביאה, או ששמר את הצאן בעד האשה, שהוא מעין פרשת ויצא. ובעמי תלואים כתיב וישר אל המלאך ויוכל , שהוא על שם הכתוב כי שרית עם אלקים ועם אנשים ותוכל הכתוב בוישלח. א”כ למה לנו ליתן את של זה בזה ושל זה בזה? ואפשר שיצא משבשתא זו מפני ששתי הפטרות אלו הם סמוכים בקרא, ועמי תלואים מוקדם במקרא, לפיכך שמו המוקדם במקרא לפרשת ויצא המוקדמת, והמאוחר לפרשת וישלח המאוחרת. והמנהג בק”ק פ”פ שמפטירין בויצא מן ועמי תלואים עד סוף הנביא, דהיינו שתי הפטרות אלו ביחד, שמספר מה אירע ליעקב. ועיין מה שכתבתי בפרשת וישלח

It is written in the Levush Hachur siman 769 that the Haftara for this seder is “Vayivrach Yaakov ,” and the Haftara for Vayishlach is “Ve’ami seluim.” In reality, places that divide the Haftara from Hoshea in order to read it as two Haftaros over two Sabbaths should follow this Levush and read the latter part first and the earlier later, as when one looks examines the matter one see it says in “Vayivrach Yaakov ” (the words) “he guarded his wife,”[26] which is similar to, “and his father kept the matter in mind,”[27] meaning [Yaakov] waited until she was fit for marriage, or it means he guarded the sheep in order to marry the woman, which is similar to parshas Vayetze. And in “Ve’ami seluim” it is written “he strove with an angel and prevailed,” which is based on the verse “for you have striven with beings divine and human and prevailed,” which is written in Vayishlach. Therefore, why should we read them in the opposite order? It is possible that this mistake occurred because these Haftaros are adjacent to each other, and “Ve’ami seluim” appears first. Therefore, they put the first Haftara for Vayetze, which is the earlier parsha, and the latter one for the later Vayishlach. But the practice in Frankfurt is to read “Ve’ami seluim” until the end of the book, meaning to read both Haftaros together.

This piece is rather difficult to comprehend.

• First, the Levush says nothing of the sort. The author proceeds to try to explain the mistake that developed due to the Levush, who did not write what is ascribed to him.
• He recommends reversing the orders of the Hoshea Haftaras, rather than recommending that Ovadia be read, which he cites later as the practice in Frankfurt.[28]
• He claims that the Frankfurt practice is to read from 11:7 until the end of Hoshea for Vayetze. All other sources claim that the practice there was to read from 12:13 for Vayetze and to read Ovadia for Vayishlach, and there is no other source for this “double Haftara” anywhere.

The Rav of Frankfurt, Rabbi Yaakov, author of the Shav Yaakov, wrote an approbation for the book “Noheg Katzon Yosef,” but after he found many errors he asked Rabbi Yehuda Miller, the author’s father-in-law, to fix the errors.[29] Some later printings of the book included these corrections in a booklet called “Tzon Nachalos,” where he wrote that the author was indeed mistaken with regard to the practice in Frankfurt.[30]

In 1729, eleven years after the publication of Noheg Katzon Yosef, Rabbi Yitzchak Aizik Mis wrote a commentary on the Haftaros known as Be’er Yitzchak, which was published in Offenbach, a town quite close to Frankfurt. He listed there various halachos and practices connected to Haftaros. He wrote there:[31]

בכל החומשים נפל טעות שציינו להפטורת ויצא ועמי תלואים ולפ’ וישלח ויברח יעקב וצריך להיות לפ’ ויצא ויברח יעקב לפי שבו כתיב ובאשה שמר שהוא מעניינא דפרשה ששמר את הצאן בעד האשה ולפ’ ושילח ועמי תלאים לפי שבו כתיב וישר אל מלאך ויוכל וגו’ שהוא מעניינא דפ’ כי שרית עם א-הים ועם אנשים ותוכל ובק”ק פרנקפורט דמיין אומרים לפ’ ויצא ועמי תלואים וגם ויברח יעקב ולפ’ וישלח חזון עובדיה

All of the chumashim have a mistake, as they cite the Haftara of Veyetze as “Ve’ami seluim” and that of Vayishlach as “Vayivrach Yaakov ,” while the Haftara for Vayetze should be “ Vayivrach Yaakov ,” as is written there “he guarded a wife” which is the matter of the parsha where (Yaakov) guarded the sheep for the wife’s sake, and that of Vayishlach should be “Ve’ami seluim,” as it is written there he strove with an angel and prevailed, which is the matter of “for you have striven with beings divine and human and prevailed.” In Frankfurt am Main they say “Ve’ami seluim” and “Vayivrach Yaakov ” for Vayetze, and “Chazon Ovadia” for Vayishlach.

It is clear that he did not just copy this out of the Noheg Katzon Yosef, as he views what is printed in chumashim as a mistake, while the Noheg Katzon Yosef mistakenly attributed it to the Levush. But it seems likely that his (erroneous) statement concerning the Frankfurtian practice does come from there.[32]

The famous printing press in Amsterdam, Proops, published a chumash in 1712 with similar Haftaros for these parshiyos to the Venice chumashim, but in another chumash, the 1734 edition, in the Haftara for Vayetze before 12:14 it is written כאן מתחילין האשכנזים פרשת ויצא while for Vayishlach, Ovadia is listed as the Haftara for Sephardim, with no mention of the Ashkenazi practice at all. It is likely that the publisher, who published a Shulchan Aruch with Magen Avraham,[33] was aware of the comment there concerning the mistake in the chumashim about the Haftara of Vayetze, but someone along the line did not realize the ramifications of this and just left Ovadia as the Haftara for Sephardim alone.

The 1754 Proops chumash cited the Venteian Haftaros, possibly as the best method to correct the error of the earlier chumash omitting an Ashekenzi Haftara for Vayishlach. But in the chumash they published in 1762, the following appears before the Haftara for Vayetze, Hoshea 11:7:

והמנהג הנכון לאשכנזים להפטרת ויצא ויברח יעקב וכן כתוב באחרונים

Before Hoshea 12:14 the following appears:

כאן מתחילים האשכנזים הפטרת וישלח, והמנהג הנכון לאשכנזי’ זהו הפטר’ ויצא ועמי תלואים שייך להפטר’ וישלח

It seems that the so-called “achraronim” mentioned here are the Be’er Yitzchak and the Noheg Katzon Yosef.

These Haftaros appear in later Proops chumashim in 1767 and 1797, as well as in another Amsterdam chumash, published in 1817 by a doctor named Yochanan Levi.

Other chumashim of the period continue to cite the Haftaros as they were listed in the Venice chumashim.[34]

Rabbi Shlomo Ashkenazi Rappaport of Chelm, in his Shulchan Atzei Shitim, wrote that the Haftara for Vayetze is Hoshea 12:14, and the Haftara for Vayishlach is from Ovadia, and in his Zer Zahav commentary he wrote:[35]

ויברח יעקב – ודלא כמו שנרשם בחומשים בטעות ויברח יעקב לפרשת וישלח דשייך לפ’ ויצא (ס’ תכ”ח)

This is clearly based on Magen Avraham.[36] It seems that his opinion concerning the Hafatros was not accepted in his day.[37]

Eighteenth-century Amsterdam was major center of Hebrew printing, and Proops was quite famous in terms of print quality, and in particular for using new methods for marketing their books.[38] Books from there were shipped to Danzig, from where they made their way into Eastern Europe. [39] Proops’ books were very popular there, which enabled them to raise the necessary funds to print a new edition of the Talmud Bavli[40] Rabbi Avraham Danziger, having grown up in the city, would have likely been exposed to the many sefarim published by Proops, and it is likely that he had their chumashim. The first edition of his Chayei Adam was published anonymously in 1810, and the matter of these Haftaros is not raised there, but in the second edition, published in the author’s lifetime in 1819, is it written:

מה שכ’ בחמשים הפטרת וישלח ויברח יעקב הוא טעות אלא בויצא מפטירין מן ויברח עד ויכשלו בם ובוישלח מפטירין מן ועמי תלואים וגם מקצת ויברח יעקב עד ומושיע אין בלתי (תכ”ח):

What was the source for this statement of the Chayei Adam? It does not seem likely that it is Noheg Katson Yosef, as that book had been published only once, a century earlier.[41] It is also not likely to be the Be’er Yitzchok, which was published in faraway Offenbach. It seems reasonable that he was exposed both to the Proops chumashim (or others with those Haftaros), as well as other chumashim with the Venetian Haftaros, which he saw as mistaken, and when he referred to “what is written in the chumashim,” he did not mean all of them.

The publishers of this of this edition, Menachem Mann and Zimmel, published a chumash for Ashkenazim in 1820 with Hoshea 14:12 as the Haftara for Vayetze and 11:7 for Vayishlach, likely following what was the ruling of the Chayei Adam at the time.

The next edition of the Chayei Adam was published in 1825, several years after the author’s death. As it had the same publisher, it seems unlikely that any changes were made by anyone but him. It is written there:

מה שכ’ בחומשים הפטרת וישלח ויברח יעקב הוא טעות אלא בויצא מפטירין מן ויברח עד סוף הושע (ואח”כ פסוקים מיואל ואכלתם אכול וכו’ וידעתם וכו’ ג”כ מטעם לסיים בטוב( ובוישלח מפטירין מן ועמי תלואים וגם מקצת ויברח יעקב עד ומושיע אין בלתי ועפ”י הגר”א נוהגין להפטיר בפ’ וישלח וישלח חזון עובדי’ (תכ”ח)

We see two changes here.

• That two verses from Yoel should be added in to the Haftara for Vayetze (which he already pointed out in the previous edition is Hoshea 12:14) which otherwise ends with the mention of sinners stumbling.[42] Evidently, earlier authorities did not think it necessary to avoid such an ending. This is cited by the Mishna Berura,[43] but is not written in any chumashim published before the Holocaust.

• He mentions that the Vilna Gaon ruled that we read Ovadia as the Haftara for Vayishlach, and those who follow him do so. The author of the Chayei Adam was related to the Vilna Gaon by marriage, and prayed with him in the Vilna Gaon’s Kloyz.

These additions were printed in later editions of the book.[44]

During the same year, 1819, Rabbi Efraim Margolies published the Sha’arei Efraim,⁴⁵ which sounded similar to what was written in the Chayei Adam published in that same year:[46]

מה שנרשם במקצת חומשים הפטורת ויברח יעקב לפ’ וישלח הוא ט”ס, כי הוא שייך לפ’ ויצא, והפטורת וישלח בהושע ועמי תלואים למשובתי

It is unlikely that he saw the edition of the Chayei Adam that had been published just a few months beforehand. The fact that he writes that reading Hoshea 12:14 as the Haftara for Vayishlach is a mistake that appears in some chumashim indicates that he saw other chumashim with the Haftaros in what he considered the correct order, and is likely agreeing with them.

In the first edition of Shulchan Hakriah and Misgeres Hachulchan by R’ Dov Reifman, published in 1864, the opinion of the Sha’arei Efraim is cited,[47]  but in the second edition[48] it is not.

Later, the above-mentioned publisher of the Chayei Adam, Menachem Mann, changed his name to Romm and began publishing many books in Vilna, including the famous Shas Bavli. The chumashim published there had Hoshea 14:12 as the Haftara for Vayetze, and soon other publishing houses followed suit. Romm themselves continued to follow this approach,[49] even though luchos for Vilna printed in 1826[50] and 1839[51] had Ovadia as the Haftara for Vayishlach. It seems likely that in Vilna itself the publication of the Vilna Gaon’s practice in the Chayei Adam had an immediate effect.[52] Romm published the Toras Elokim chumash in 1874,[53] continuing to list Hoshea 11:7 as the Ashkenazi Haftara for Vayishlach, yet the following note was inserted before the Haftara:

הפטרה זו וגם הפטרת ויברח יעקב היא הפטרת ויצא לספרדים מפני שהם בנביא אחד אבל האשכנזים מפטירין בויצא רק ויברח יעקב ובוישלח חזון עובדיה כמבואר ברמב”ם ובלבוש

It is not clear what it means that both Haftaros are read by Sephardim for Vayetze, and it is rather strange that Hoshea 11:7 is listed for the Ashkenazi Haftara for Vayishlach with instructions that Ashkenazim actually read from Ovadia. Before the Haftara from Ovadia the following appears:

הגם שנמצא בחומשים כתוב שהיא הפטרה רק לספרדים אך מבואר ברמב”ם ובלבוש שהיא הפטרת וישלח בין לספרדים בין לאשכנזים

These instructions appeared in the Mikraos Gedolos chumash they published in 1880, and others used these rather strange instructions as well.[54]

The Mikraos Gedolos chumash published by Kadishson in Piotrkow had the Haftara from Hoshea 11:7 without any instructions, but wrote the following before the Haftara from Ovadia:

“כ”ה דעת הלבוש וראה עוד לזה ג”כ בסי’ תרפ”ד… הפטרת שבת א’ של חנוכה …

The Levush here explains that the reason why Zecharia is the Haftara on the first Sabbath of Chanuka while the fashioning of the menoras in Melachim in read on Chanuka only in the event that there is a second Sabbath is that that a Haftara discussing the future redemption is preferred, and the editor here felt the same applies to preferring Ovadia over Hoshea for parashas Vayishlach. The same instructions appear in the Romm Mikraos Gedolos printed in 1904.

Another Romm Chumash from 1898 had Ovadia as the Haftara for Sephardim only and Hoshea 11:7 for Ashkenazim. This chumash was reprinted in 1938, but that chumash was just a copy of one that was printed in Zhitomer in 1867, which is to this day viewed as the standard “shul chumash.”

The Chayei Adam as printed in 1825 edition onward is cited by the Mishna Berura.[55] It seems that by then many communities were reading Ovadia for Vayishlach.

The practice of returning to the original Ashkenazi Haftara was not limited to Vilna and its environs. Shortly after the publication of Sha’arei Efraim, we find many communities in what became the Austro-Hungarian empire (where Rabbi Efraim was from) who read Ovadia for Vayishlach. This includes Vienna,[56] Tarnow,[57] Pressburg[58] Erlau,[59] and Eperjes.[60] But the practice in Gálszécs[61] was to read Hoshea 11:7 for Vayishlach. This was the practice in Warsaw in Russian Poland as well, according to the luach from there in 1889. By contrast, in Przeworsk[62] they still maintained the Haftaros, based on the Venice chumashim, Hoshea 11:7 for Vayetze and 12:13 for Vayishlach.

Cities that retained the original Ashkenazi practice throughout

It is impossible to know the effect of printed chumashim in various eras on every local practice, but it is clear that there were communities that simply ignored them and continued the old practice from before the era of printing. We have already seen that that was the case in Frankfurt. This was the practice in Worms as well, as seen in “Minhagei K”K Vermeiza” by Rabbi Yosefa Shamash, circa 1648.[63]

Concerning Mainz, in “Minhagei K”K BeSeder HaTefilla Unuschoseha” in the Sefas Emes siddur printed in 1862,[64] Hoshea 12:14 is the Haftara for Vayetze. Although this is a late source, it seems to reflect a very early practice and only Haftaros that are not universal in Ashkenaz[65] are written there, which is why it does not mention the Haftara for Vayishlach, which by then was standard in Ashkenaz.

Concerning Prague (Bohemia), as mentioned earlier, chumashim there retained the original Haftaros of Hosea 13:12 for Vayetze and Ovadia for Vayishlach after they ceased to be printed as the Haftaros elsewhere. One chumash printed there 1697 does not, but it states explicitly that the Hafatros are as they are printed in Amsterdam. In Mendelsohn’s Biur, printed in 1836, the following is written:

‘מנהג פראג ויברח יעקב – והיא הפטרת וישלח כמנהג האשכנזים, ויש מתחילים אותה בהושע י”א פסוק ז

The verses between Hoshea 11:7-12:13 are printed in small letters, indicating they are generally not meant to be read by the intended audience. In a chumash printed in 1893, Ovadia and Hoshea 11:7 appear as Haftaros for Vayishlach, with these instructions before the former:

כמנהג האשכנזים רק בפראג ובמדינת בעהמען מפטירין חזון עובדיה

Before the Haftara from Ovadia the following appears:

כמנהג הספרדים פראג ומדינת בעהמען

In a chumash printed in Budapest in 1898 it is mentioned as a practice of Prague; not as one of all of Bohemia.

Just like there are different sources whether the original Haftaros were maintained in Prague alone or in all of Bohemia, there is a similar matter with regard to Frankfurt. In the chumash printed in Roedelheim in 1818 the Haftara for Vayetze is Hoshea 11:7. The note there states:

בק”ק פפד”מ ורוב אשכנז מפטירין בפ’ ויצא ויברח יעקב ואינם אומרים כלל ועמי תלואים

And for Vayishlach, where the Ashkenazi Haftara is listed as Hoshea 12:14, it is written:

כאן מתחילין האשכנזים הפטרת וישלח אבל בק”ק פפד”ם ורוב אשכנז מפטירין בפ’ וישלח חזון עובדיה דלקמן

The same appears in the 1854 chumash published there, as well as all subsequent printings, including the edition this chumash published in Basel in 1964.[66] The same notes appear in a chumash printed in Konigsberg[67] in 1851 and Vienna in 1864. A chumash printed in Furth in 1901 had Hoshea 11:7 as the Ashkenazi Haftara for Vayishlach, but mentioned that the practice in Frankfurt was to read from Ovadia.

Here there is evidence that the retaining of the original Haftaros spread beyond Frankfurt, as it was the practice in the old communities of Mainz and Worms.

Another community that appeared to have retained the old practice throughout is Posen, from which there is a Pinkas[68] with unique practices and carefully retained customs.

The original practice returned, as it was mentioned in sources and chumashim in the 19th century. It was in the luchos in the Austrio-Hungarian empire mentioned before and it was the practice in Chernowitz as of 1868. Later it was mentioned in the all of the luchos in Eretz Yisrael69] and in that of Ezras Torah in the United States, causing (or reflecting) that the old/new Haftaros became the standard practice for Ashkenazim.

The reacceptance of the two original Haftaros was and is not universal. The Beis Medrash Hayashan in Berlin read Hoshea 11:7 for Vayishlach until its bitter end,[70] while the practice of Kehal Adas Yisrael there was to read Ovadia.[71] The United Synagogue communities in the United Kingdom[72] (and some synagogues in some other Commonwealth countries) still read Hoshea, as it is listed as the Ashkenazi Haftara in the Hertz Chumash.[73] The Chabad[74] practice is similar to the Sephardi practice, and Amsterdam Ashkenazim read Hoshea 11:7 for Vayetze.

Adding verses from Yoel

The Chayei Adam cited this idea, which is then cited by the Mishna Berura. Two other options are mentioned in order to finish with a positive matter. One is to finish the Haftara earlier, at 14:7, and another is to add from Micha 7:18-20.[75]

Luach Eretz Yisrael of Rav Yechiel Michel Tucazinsky cites the practice of adding the two verses from Yoel. Lately, this practice has been cited by the Ezras Torah Luach in the United States.[76] Nonetheless, out of all of the chumashim that list the Haftara from Hoshea 12:13 for either Vayetze or Vayishlach, none mentioned this practice until the Koren Chumash of 1963, which cited that there are those who add the verses, and so is written in subsequent editions until today. By contrast, there are other Israeli chumashim that do not cite this practice.

The first edition of the popular English Stone Chumash, published by ArtScroll in 1993, did not cite this practice, but from the second edition onward the verses from Yoel are there, along with instructions in English that there are those who add them.

Summary

In the pre-printing era most Ashkenazi communities read Hoshea 12:14 for Vayetze and everyone read Ovadia for Vayishlach. This changed due to a mistake in the Venice chumash of 1517, after which most chumashim listed Hoshea 12:14 as the Ashkenazi Haftara for Vayishlach and Hoshea 11:7 for Vayetze. Magen Avraham noted this error, but mentioned only the correct Haftara for Vayetze, leading Noheg Katzon Yosef, Amsterdam chumashim, and after them the Chayei Adam and Sha’arei Efraim, to claim that Hoshea 11:7 is the Ashkenazi Haftara for Vayishlach. As time passed, and possibly due to the influence of the Vilna Gaon, the practice reverted to what it originally had been, to read Ovadia for the Haftara of Vayishlach.

[1] The topic of this article is the development of the Ashkenazic practices regarding these Haftaros. Any mention of other practices is just an aside. I would like to thank R’ Avraham Grossman for editing the original Hebrew and my brother R’ Yehoshua Duker for editing the English translation. I would also like to thank Dr. Gabriel Wasserman, R’ Dr. Eliezer Brodt, R’ Elli Fischer, R’ Mordechai Weintraub, my uncle Dr. Joel Fishman, and the staff of the National Library of Israel for their assistance and input.
[2] Goldshmidt Ed. Vo. 2. Krios Vahaftaros, p. 589
[3] Hilchos Krias Hatorah Ch. 4. P. 53.
[4] Keren Re’em edition, Vol. 3 29:23 (p. 29).
[5] Albeck edition, Hilchos Krias Hatorah p. 181.
[6] The Yotserot of R. Samuel the Third, Vo. 1 227-229
[7] Piyutei R Yehuda BiRabbi Binyamin (Elitzur ed.) pp. 113-114.
[8] See Fried, “Haftarot Alternativiot Befiyuttei Yanai Ush’ar Paytanim Kedumim” Sinai 2. He states one of my main claims there; i.e., that the change of the Haftara began at the onset of the printing era, but he does not mention specifics.
[9] Cambridge T-S A-S10241, B14.22, B14.88, B14.95, B15.5, B16.21, B20.2 B20.4 20.14 Cambridge Lewis-Gibson MISC 25.53.16.
[10] See list by Y. Ofer https://faculty.biu.ac.il/~ofery/papers/haftarot3.pdf
[11] T-S AS19.241, B20.2, 4,14, B14.62c, 125, B15.5
[12]  T-S B15.2, B20.2, 4.
[13] T-S B16.21
[14] Pp. 107-108
[15]  ibid.
[16] ibid.
[17] pp.214-215
[18] See Ofer
[19] Ms. Par. 2168.
[20] Ms. Lon Bl Add. 9408, Kennecott 3 (the last 3 verses are not vowelized),
[21] Hahogas Beis Haknesses DK”K Amsterdam, Proops ed. p. 519 , and Machon Yerushalayim ed. p. 221. It is not clear whether or not the Ashkenazim, who established their community there in 1632, adopted the practice of the Sephardim who had arrived in the city a half century earlier, or whether they had another Ashkenazi source. Concerning Ashkenazi Amsterdam practices in general, see the introduction to the Machon Yerushalayim edition pp 41-42.
[22] Concerning Pratensis and the publication of the chumash in general, see, Penkower, J.  “Mahadurat HaTanach Harishona Bomberg Laor V’Reishit Beit Defuso,” Kiryat Sefer, 1983 pp. 586-604.
[23] Meginei Eretz edition, Dyhernfurth (today Brzeg Dolny), Shabtai Meshorer pub.
[24]  This is the case in the chumashim published by Levy, H. in 1735, Atias J. in 1700, and Antonis A. in 1719, all in Amsterdam, as well as the di Foc. Florence, 1755.
[25] 179:2 pp. 239-240 Machon Shlomo Auman ed.,
[26] שמר in the original.
[27] שמר in the original.
[28]  p. 240
[29] Concerning the errors in the book see the introduction to this edition pp. 17-19, as well as Shorshei Minhag Ashknenaz, Hamburger R.B. vol. 2, pp. 250-251.
[30] Printed in same edition of Noheg Katzon Yosef, p. 441. Besides the chumashim (discussed later on) that discuss the Frankfurt practices, similar to what is cited in the Tzon Nachalos, this practice is also mentioned in Frankfurt by Divrei Kehillos, Geiger, R SZ, p. 369, but this source is later, as it is from 1864.
[31] Halacha 16.
[32] The book has Hoshea 12:13 as its Haftara for Vayetze. He lists Hoshea 11:7 as the Haftara for Vayishlach, followed by Ovadia under the headline “יש מפטרין הפטרה זו”. In a Haftara book with Mendelssohn’s bi’ur published by Shmidt A., in Vienna in 1818, all of the halachos mentioned in the Be’er Yitzhak were quoted, with the exception of the one with regard to Vayetze-Vayishlach. It is possible that the publisher was aware of the error here and did not want to insert it. Moreover, in the luach published by Shmidt for Vienna in 1805, he listed Hoshea 12:13 as the Haftara for Vayetze and Ovadia for the Haftara of Vayishlach, and it could be that he did not want to give the impression that the dominant practice is different from what he wrote there. The guidelines from Be’er Yitzchok, with the omission of this one, were also printed in chumashim published in Feurth by Tzendarf, D. in 1801, and another in Livorno by Prizek, A. in 1809.
[33] Published in 1720.
[34] Salzbach (1802, 1820), Livorno, 1795. Paris 1809.
[35] Siman 6:6:1.
[36] Magen Avraham was added as the source in the Krauss edition of 2013.
[37] See introduction to Krauss edit. p. 6.
[38] See “Hebrew Printing” by Fuks, L. Translated from Dutch in “European Judaism” 5:2 (summer 1971).
[39] See “Hebrew Book Trade in Amsterdam” Fuks-Mansfeld R. G. in Le Magasin de l’univers: the Dutch Republic as the centre of the European book trade: papers presented at the international colloquium, held at Wassenaar, 5-7 July 1990 / edited by C. Berkvens-Stevelinck [et al.].
[40] See Fuchs ibid.
[41] See Auman edition. Intro. p. 16.
[42] This matter is discussed at length in Zera Yaakov, Zaleznik, R.S.Z. S. 138
[43] 28:22
[44] Menachem Mann and Ziml ed. Vilna, 1829, and 1839. Huffer ed. Zhovkva 1837, Wachs Jósefów, 1839. Menachem Mann and Ziml ed. Vilna, 1839. Shklover ed. Warsaw, 1840.
[45] Published in Dubno.
[46] 9:18.
[47] S. 25 at the end
[48] Berlin, 1882.
[49] This is the case in the Mendelssohn Biur they published between 1848-1853, Tikkun Soferim in 1860, and again in 1864.
[50] Publisher unknown.
[51] Published by Menachem and Simcha Zisl, sons of R’ Boruch.
[52] Later luchos from Vilna listed Ovadia as the Haftara for Vayishlach. I was unable to read what it said for Vayetze on the 1880 copy I saw. No Haftara was listed in the 1890 edition, as only Haftaros that had alternative practices were mentioned, and Hoshea 12:13 for Vayetze had become quite widespread among Ashkenazim by them, leaving no need to mention it.
[53] There was an earlier version in 1872 but I have not been able to locate it.
[54] This includes chumashim published in Vilna by Rosenkrantz in 1893 and Metz in 1913, and a chumash published in New York by the Jewish Morning Journal (דער מארגען זשורנאל) in 1914.
[55] Ibid.
[56]  Luach in 1879
[57]  Found in luchos printed there annually through 1887-1890, as well as in 1894 in Vienna by Sturm, D. Luchos are the source for the other practices listed here as well.
[58] Now Bratislava from 1870, 1892, 1893, and 1894. Printed in Vienna by Elinger, M.
[59] Eger in Hungarian  1889.  Printed in Vienna by Engalder.
[60] Today Presov  1887. Printed in Vienna by Ster, D.
[61] Pronounced “Gossach”, the ancestral home of my wife’s family. Today it is called Sečovce. 1888. Printed in Vienna.
[62]  1888. This appears to be the last time there is a record of the Haftaros being read that resulted from the misprinting in the Venice chumashim.
[63]  Machon Yerushayaim ed. Vol II. p. 195.
[64] p. 12
[65] Ashkenaz here refers to western Germany.
[66]  These instructions are found in Haphtoroth / translated & explained by Mendel Hirsch, rendered into English by Isaac Levy. London, 1966. I believe this is the last time they were given.
[67] Now Kaliningrad
[68] See Pinkas Beis Hakneses DK”K Posna, Mirsky S.K. in Brocho l’Menachem: essays contributed in honor of Menachem H. Eichenstein, rabbi of the Vaad Hoeir, United Orthodox Jewish community, St. Louis, Missouri  published by the Vaad Hoeir, United Orthodox Jewish community, 1956. What is written there, that the Haftara for Vayetze is “VVayivrach Yaakov” from S. 11 is clearly a mistake in the numbering.
[69] 1947 onward.
[70] Minhagei Beis Medrash Hayashan DK”k Berlin, 1937.
[71] Minhagei Beis Hakanesses D’Khal Adas Yisrael, Berlin 1938.
[72] Heard orally from Henry Ehreich of London, as well as on the website of the Muswill Hill Synagogue. https://u.pcloud.link/publink/show?code=kZzoTE7ZiRKq7OeCnFVtgCP2qaUuqJtpwP27

A chumash was published by Valentine in the U.K. in 1868 with an English translation that had Ovadia as the main Haftara for Vayishlach, qualifying that some communities read Hoshea 11:7.
[73] First Edition, published in 1929 in both London and New York.
[74] p. XIII, Sefer Haftaros Lifi Minhag Chabad, Kehot, New York.
[75] In “Luach Halalachos Vihamingim LChu”L Lishnas 5779 (Weingarten edition) these practices were cited from Luach Vilna. In R. Tucazinsky’s luach he recommends that those communities that read the Haftara from a scroll that has the entire text of “Trei Asar” refrain from reading from Micha, as it is a violation of the principle not to skip to somewhere when it takes more to time to roll the scroll then for a translator to complete translating the previous verse.
[76] Nothing about this appears in the luach for 1995 and this does appears in 2000 onward.  I was unable to obtain the luchos in the interim. In 2005 it is written “כתוב בחיי אדם” and nothing else, most likely a printer’s error.

Jewish Communal Workers, Preacher’s Kid Syndrome, and Sefer Shmuel ^[1]
By Rabbi Akiva Males

This article is dedicated to the memory of HaRav Gedalia Dov Schwartz, zt”l, – whose 5^th Yahrtzeit was on Erev Chanukah, the 24^th of Kislev 5786 (2025). Rav Schwartz was an overflowing spring of Halachic guidance, wisdom, and practical rabbinic advice. I will always feel indebted to Rav Schwartz for the numerous times he graciously shared his vast knowledge — as well as his compassionate heart — with me.

______________________

. . . וכל מי שעוסקים בצרכי צבור באמונה, הקדוש ברוך הוא ישלם שכרם . . .

. . . and all those who faithfully occupy themselves with the community’s needs, may the Holy One, Blessed is He pay their reward . . . ^[2]

“Yichus [pedigree] is a lot like potatoes – often times, the best part is underground.” ^[3]

While great ancestry may sometimes provide a person with a head start in life, pedigree offers no guarantee of achieving greatness. We have observed this reality in the world around us, we know this fact from our study of Jewish history, and we certainly know this to be true from countless episodes in Tanach.

It is important to remember, however, that while a child may not have emulated the lofty character traits and/or achievements of his/her parents, those parents and their child-raising efforts are not necessarily at fault. After all, numerous factors (i.e. inborn nature, environment, etc.) play a role in shaping a child’s development. Unless there are clear indications of bad parenting, it would be foolish speculation (at best) or outright cruelty (at worst) to accuse parents of failing to properly raise their children.

If we agree not to automatically label friends and neighbors as bad parents based on how their child(ren) turned out, do our great ancestors — our role models found in Tanach — deserve any less? Of course, we ought to extend them the same courtesy. Hence, we should not assert that any of the great figures of Tanach were guilty of poor parenting without clear indications from the texts themselves, the teachings of our Mishnaic / Talmudic Sages, or the early Biblical commentaries that this was in fact the unfortunate case.

In the Book of Shmuel I, we sadly find two tragic cases where the sons of great Jewish leaders — Eli and Shmuel — did not live up to the hopes of their fathers or their people^[4]. While our Sages and the classic commentaries suggest interpretations which minimize the guilt of each leader’s sons^[5], it is clear nonetheless that the sons of Eli (the High Priest of the Tabernacle at Shiloh) as well as the sons of Shmuel (the great selfless prophet) abused the power of their respective offices and were therefore unworthy of leading the Jewish people.

Do Eli’s and Shmuel’s sons’ failures to live up to their fathers’ examples indicate poor parenting on the part of their fathers? Fortunately, there is at least one of our classical commentaries to offer us some direction.

Among the early Biblical commentaries, the explanations of Ralbag^[6] to Tanach are most unique. Aside from authoring a running commentary, Ralbag also provides us at regular intervals with what he refers to as the To’eliyos — the practical lessons to be learned from many Biblical episodes. Ralbag’s takeaway lessons offer a treasure trove of insights into human nature, the character traits which we aspire to attain, and a better understanding of the Mitzvos. Finally, Ralbag often utilizes his To’eliyos as a vehicle for explaining the Torah’s worldviews.

In two places in his To’eliyos to Shmuel I, Ralbag provides us with a great deal of insight into the sons of Eli and Shmuel — as well as their fathers’ roles in their unfortunate outcomes.

Ralbag #1

רלב”ג שמואל א פרק ז

העשרים ושלשה^[7] הוא להודיע כי לא היתה הסבה בחטא בני עלי הוא היות עלי בלתי משגיח בענינם ובלתי מיישיר אותם אל הטוב. וזה כי את פני עלי ובהשגחתו נתיסר שמואל לשרת את ה’. ועם כל זה לא הועילה הנהגת עלי להישיר בניו אל השלמות מצד רוע תכונתם.

To paraphrase Ralbag, the sins of Eli’s sons were not due to a lack parental oversight and/or an effort to steer them in the proper direction. After all, it was Eli’s oversight and guidance which brought Shmuel to properly serve G-d. Unfortunately, Eli’s efforts did not succeed in steering his own sons towards wholesomeness, for they were born with a propensity for wrongdoing.

In this To’eles, Ralbag relates several details about Eli and his sons:

A) Eli was an involved parent. He was משגיח בענינם — he looked after the affairs of his sons and tried to be מיישיר אותם אל הטוב — steer them in the right direction.

B) Eli’s parenting skills were successful in ensuring that Shmuel — his young charge and student — developed into the consummate servant of G-d we know him as.

C) Despite Eli’s valiant efforts as a parent, unfortunately, he was unsuccessful with his own sons. Why were Eli’s parenting skills effective with Shmuel but not with his own biological children?

רוע תכונתם — unlike Shmuel, Eli’s sons naturally possessed a propensity for wrongdoing.

The picture of Eli which emerges from this To’eles / lesson of Ralbag is that of an involved parent. Though he was successful in raising Shmuel, Eli saw no such success with his own sons. Why not? The fault was not Eli’s. With a natural disposition for wrongdoing, Eli’s sons had a handicap working against them which they failed to overcome.

On the surface, this To’eles of Ralbag, wherein Eli seems blameless for the failures of his sons, stands in sharp contrast to a second To’eles of Ralbag found just a bit later in Shmuel I.

Ralbag #2

Following Chapter 12 of Shmuel I, Ralbag records another To’eles which assesses Eli’s parenting efforts.^[8]

רלב”ג שמואל א פרק יב

הראשון הוא להודיע שראוי לשלם שידקדק בהנהגת בניו שתהיה באופן הראוי, ולא יקל מזה מפני רוב טרדותו בהנהגת העם. הלא תראה מה שקרה לשמואל בעבור שלא דקדק בהנהגת בניו שתהיה לפי הראוי. וזה, שזה היה סבה שסרה הממשלה מזרעו. ונמשך מזה ששאלו להם ישראל מלך, שהיה סבה בסוף לגלות ישראל מעל אדמתם, כמו שזכרנו. וכזה בעצמו קרה לעלי, מפני שלא דקדק בהנהגת בניו לפי הראוי. כי זה היה סבה שמתו בניו, וסרה מבי’ עלי בסוף הענין הכהונה הגדולה ונתנה לזרע פנחס בן אלעזר.

To paraphrase Ralbag, a wholesome person ought to be exacting in regard to his children’s conduct. One must not let communal responsibilities get in the way of his familial obligations. As an example, see what resulted from Shmuel’s not having been as exacting with his sons as he should have been. As a result, his children were not worthy of being leaders of the Jewish people. This led the people to request a King, which was the eventual cause of their exile from Israel. This is exactly what befell Eli — and it was all a result of his not having been as exacting with his sons as he should have been. This is why Eli’s sons died and the office of the High Priesthood was transferred to the offspring of Pinchas the son of Elazar.

In this To’eles / lesson, Ralbag teaches us that:

A) A truly good parent is one who is מדקדק בהנהגת בניו — exacting regarding his/her children’s conduct — despite the many communal responsibilities he/she may be tasked with.

B)  Unfortunately, Shmuel could have done better in this regard. As he was so occupied in his selfless work on behalf of the Jewish people, he neglected to be as exacting as he should have been with his own sons. Regrettably, Shmuel’s neglecting to properly involve himself in his sons’ lives eventually resulted in tragedy for the Jewish people. This sounds very much like what is referred to nowadays as “preacher’s kid syndrome” – which is “a situation in which the parents of a preacher’s kid are attuned to everyone’s problems but those of the kid.” ^[9]

C) Sadly, Eli preceded Shmuel in this very regard. He too was not as exacting with his sons as he should have been. Eli’s deficiency in this parental role had grave consequences for his immediate family.

The second To’eles of Ralbag clearly ascribes the failure of the sons of both Eli and Shmuel to some lack of parental involvement. On the surface, this second To’eles of Ralbag seems to contradict what he wrote about the diligent parenting efforts of Eli in the previously quoted To’eles. In that first comment, Ralbag had written that Eli’s sons failed in life as a result of their own deficiencies — not because of any lack in Eli’s parenting.

Can these two seemingly contradictory comments of Ralbag be reconciled?

I believe the following approach best resolves the apparent contradiction between Ralbag’s two Toeliyos involving the parenting efforts of Eli:

According to Ralbag, there are two different levels of parental involvement one can exercise when raising children:

1. Ralbag’s lower level of parental involvement is described as being – משגיח בענינם. Such a parent is by no means oblivious of what the child is up to. On the contrary, that parent keeps tabs on the child, monitors the child’s affairs, and maintains a certain level of involvement in the child’s life.^[10]
2. Ralbag’s higher level of parental involvement is described as being – מדקדק בהנהגת בניו. That parent is exacting and even more involved, taking a hands-on interest in the life of the child. Such a parent is not just a משגיח / observer looking in on the child’s life. This level of parental involvement connotes one who is actively involved in every aspect of the child’s conduct.

From Ralbag’s perspective, neither Eli nor Shmuel was an uninvolved father who gave no time to their sons and left their kids alone to raise themselves. They were fathers who were definitely involved in their sons’ lives. Their commitment in raising their sons, however, was simply limited to משגיח בענינם — general oversight, that is the lower level of parental involvement. Neither Eli nor Shmuel could claim to have been a father who was מדקדק בהנהגת בניהם. According to Ralbag, they just were not exacting with, or extremely involved in every aspect of their sons’ lives.

Thus, there is no contradiction between the two To’eliyos of Ralbag. In his first To’eles, Ralbag noted that Eli fulfilled the first level of his parental responsibilities vis-à-vis his sons — that of being משגיח בענינם. While that level of parental involvement may suffice when raising a child with a propensity for goodness — i.e. Shmuel — it is not the level of involvement needed when raising children with an inclination for wrongdoing — i.e. Eli’s own sons.

In his second To’eles, Ralbag stated that while one would be wrong to claim that both Eli and Shmuel completely ignored their parental responsibilities, neither of them was as fully involved of a father he should have been. Both Eli and Shmuel should have realized that in order to successfully raise their sons, each would need to be a father who was מדקדק בהנהגת בניו. Their sons’ inborn dispositions demanded a greater level of parental involvement from their fathers.^[11]

Why did Shmuel fail to be as exacting with his sons as he should have been? Ralbag clearly states that Shmuel erred due to his pre-occupation with being the consummate Jewish communal leader.^[12] While Shmuel never fully ignored his parental responsibilities, Ralbag learns that in his passion to selflessly address the very real needs and concerns of his people, unfortunately, Shmuel neglected to give his sons the full measure of parental involvement which — due to their dispositions — they so desperately required.^[13]

Conclusion

Having presented a working approach to reconcile two seemingly conflicting תועליות of Ralbag, it behooves us to conclude by emphasizing Ralbag’s crucial message.

In Koheles (2:14) we read: . . . הֶחָכָם עֵינָיו בְּרֹאשׁוֹ, וְהַכְּסִיל בַּחֹשֶׁךְ הוֹלֵךְ — The wise man’s eyes are in his head, but the fool walks in darkness . . . Long before the Boy Scouts of America coined their motto, King Solomon taught how important it is to “Be Prepared”. In a similar vein, during World War II, Winston Churchill is credited as having stated: “He who fails to plan is planning to fail”.

In his To’eliyos cited above, Ralbag reminds us how crucial it is that every Jewish communal worker adopt a strategy for juggling his/her many responsibilities. Jewish communal workers must struggle with allocating their limited amounts of time, attention, and energies. Anyone involved in such work must be ever alert to ensure that the needs of his/her family are not overlooked in the process of nobly serving the needs of their community.

Is there any one proven formula to help a Jewish communal worker properly balance the very real and competing needs of one’s spouse, family, and community? Absolutely not — after all, the characteristics and circumstances of no two spouses, families, communities, or Jewish communal workers are perfectly alike.

There are, however, three crucial steps which I believe each Jewish communal worker should take when allocating his/her time, attention, and energies:

1. Communicate — One must truly know and understand their spouse, family, and community in order to correctly allocate the time and attention each requires. The only way to accomplish this is through frequent and meaningful communication.
2. Re-evaluate — As good a balance one may have achieved in the past, the needs of one’s spouse, family, and community constantly change. As such, it is wise for every Jewish communal worker to periodically reassess the formula he/she has created to meet the needs of those requiring his/her time, attention, and energies.
3. Pray — Ultimately, each and every Jewish communal worker is only human. As such, even one’s most thought-out plans to allocate his/her limited resources may have been made in error. Without G-d’s help, no Jewish communal worker can possibly hope to succeed in the balancing act he/she must perform. Once one has done his/her part in this process, the Jewish communal worker should sincerely ask G-d for His assistance as he/she strives to work on behalf of His people.

May the lives of Eli HaKohoen and Shmuel Hanavi serve as an inspiration — as well as a lesson — to all Jewish communal workers.^[14]

1. I am greatly indebted to my Rabbeim who introduced me to Ralbag’s commentary to Tanach during my years in Yeshiva; Rabbi Avrohom Semmel (Queens, NY) and Rabbi Yitzchok Shapiro (Boca Raton, FL) for their assistance (several years ago) with the sources cited in this article; and my father, Mr. U. Harold Males for his editorial assistance. ↑
2. From the pre-Mussaf prayer recited each Shabbos in synagogues around the world. ↑
3. A number of years ago, I heard that sharp remark from Rabbi Berel Wein, zt”l, during a Jewish history lecture. In a personal communication with Rabbi Wein regarding the origins of this adage, he told me that while he was not aware of a specific source, he believes it to be one of our people’s great Yiddish folk sayings. ↑
4. See Shmuel I, 2:12-22 and Shmuel I, 8:1-5. ↑
5. See for example the ideas mentioned in Rashi to Shmuel I, 2:22 and Radak to Shmuel I, 8:2. ↑
6. Ralbag (רלב”ג) is the acronym for Rabbi Levi ben Gershom — sometimes referred to by his Latinized name — Gersonides. Ralbag (1288-1344) lived in the region of Southern France known as Provence. In recent years, Ralbag’s commentaries on much of Tanach have been masterfully annotated and republished by Mossad Harav Kook in Jerusalem, Israel. ↑
7. In the standard Mikra’os Gedolos editions of Nach, this To’eles is listed as number 23 and can be found after Chapter 7 of Shmuel I. In the newer Mossad Harav Kook edition, however, it is listed as תועלת number 24. ↑
8. In all editions of Ralbag’s commentary this lesson is listed as number 1 in this group of To’eliyos. ↑
9. From: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Preacher’s_kid ↑
10. According to Ralbag, this parent also makes efforts to be מיישיר אותם אל הטוב — to steer his/her children in the proper direction. ↑
11. Although he did not state so overtly, it seems clear that Ralbag understood Shmuel’s sons as having propensities for wrongdoing just like Eli’s sons did. Otherwise, the lower level of parental involvement, which Ralbag described as משגיח בענינם in his first To’eles would have sufficed for Shmuel’s sons. ↑
12. See Shmuel I 7:15-16 and Ralbag’s accompanying comments for an example of Shmuel’s devotion to serving his people in such a time-consuming and selfless fashion. ↑
13. Why did Eli fail to be as involved of a parent as he should have been? Ralbag does not address that question. Was Eli overly occupied with the needs of his people — like Shmuel — so that his sons’ needs were neglected? Or, perhaps Eli was not as busy with the needs of the Jewish people, but he just did not realize his sons had propensities for wrongdoing, and therefore required a higher level of parental involvement on his part? While one could certainly speculate, Ralbag does not seem to clearly address this point. ↑
14. Two additional comments of Ralbag concerning Dovid HaMelech are very relevant to this discussion. See Ralbag’s comments to Shmuel II 8:18 as well as To’eles #3 to Melachim I chapter 2. In both of those places, Ralbag introduces an even greater level of parental involvement which he called משגיח במוסר בניו – ensuring that one’s child is reprimanded and/or punished for his/her wrongdoings. This highest level of parenting goes beyond mere oversight, and is necessary when one’s child has stepped beyond the lines of acceptable behavior. According to Ralbag, had Dovid achieved that level of parental involvement, several of his sons might have turned out better. (It is important to note that unlike his treatment of Shmuel, Ralbag did not overtly attribute Dovid’s parental failings to his untiring efforts on behalf of the Jewish people.) ↑