The Gaon’s Impact on the Interpretation of both Primary Sugyot in Zemanim

By William Gewirtz

Unquestionably, almost all ḥiddushim in the understanding of the vast literature on zemanim have halakhic implications. My intent is not to influence what has become minhag Yisroel; my focus is on establishing more precise halakhic definitions and theoretical innovations in sugyot that are central to the study of zemanim. Competent poskim can implement any changes in halakhic practice, which they determine that these innovations support.[1]

Two areas dominate the study of zemanim:

• How to determine precise delimiters for the day of the week, which concludes at the end of the period of bein ha-shemashot.[2]
• How to calculate the hours of the daytime period, which according to all opinions begins at alot hashaḥar.

Interestingly, in both Hebrew and English, the words yom and day denote both the daytime period and the day of the week. Our focus is on:

• the Gaon’s impact on the interpretation of two key aspects of Shabbat 34a-35b, which examines the transition between days of the week, and
• a key aspect of the Gaon’s clarification of Pesaḥim 94a focused on the daytime period.

The approach to the above sugyot were radically changed by the Gaon’s observations.[3] However, only the impact on the former sugyah in Pesaḥim is usually recognized.

As I strongly indicated in a paper on errors in halakhic reasoning, I do not believe that attempts to deal with the critique of Rabbeinu Tam’s position by the Gaon have ever been fully effective. In this paper, however, the focus is not on the extensive halakhic literature written primarily in the period of the aḥaronim, but on the text of the gemara itself and its interpretation by rishonim. The conclusions reached are very different.[4]

The first two sections address areas in the gemara beginning on Shabbat 34a where a significant modification to an earlier reading of the gemara, often associated with rishonim aligned with Rabbeinu Tam, is strongly preferred, but only when assuming a slight modification to the presumed opinion of the geonim / Gaon.[5] In a similar vein we suggest a modification to how the bein hashemashot interval is to be used, something I believe to be independent of the positions of Rabbeinu Tam and the Gaon.

The third section addresses the Gaon’s innovative reading of the gemara in Pesaḥim 94a, a reading that is strongly supported by both elementary logic and astronomy. Included in the Gaon’s reading is a concept that was never made explicit in rabbinic literature prior to the Gaon, to the best of my knowledge. As will become clear, that observation forms the basis for the Gaon’s challenge to the opinion of Rabbeinu Tam.

My observations are not intended to be judged as controversial, although concluding a sugyah may not have been correctly understood (or at the very least properly explained) until the 18^th century might be jarring.  It is beyond my focus or competence to deal with the implications of that observation; observations addressing that point would be welcomed.

Section 1: The endpoints of the period of bein ha-shemashot

The dispute between the geonim / Gaon and Rabbeinu Tam revolves around the placement of the interval of bein ha-shemashot, within the interval between sunset and tzait (kol) ha-kokhavim, whose length is (almost always) assumed to be the time needed to walk 4 milin.[6] The length of the bein ha-shemashot period is universally assumed to be the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil. It is normally assumed that

• the opinion of the geonim / Gaon places the bein ha-shemashot period at the start of that interval, while
• Rabbeinu Tam places it at its end.

Those two alternatives represent opposite extremes.  Two adjustments seem reasonable.

• First, separate the dispute between the geonim / Gaon and Rabbeinu Tam into two distinct components:
  • The first concerns the beginning and the second the end of the bein ha-shemashot period, subject to a constraint that the length of the bein ha-shemashot interval must equal the time to walk ¾ of a mil.
• Second, assume that there are multiple hybrid / intermediate positions, situated between the two generally assumed alternatives.^[7]

This allows for

• an interpretation of the gemara in Shabbat similar (or according to some identical) to the overwhelmingly compelling position of the geonim / Gaon relative to the end of the bein ha-shemashot period,
• while defining the beginning of the bein ha-shemashot period using the textual approaches of many rishonim, albeit employing a significantly earlier point in time, much closer to sunset.

While I have not seen this conceptualization explicitly formulated^[8] in the classic halakhic literature, practice and several pragmatic opinions are supportive of this approach.  More importantly, the challenges raised to the opinions of both Rabbeinu Tam and the Gaon are, without exception, directed at the late ending of the Shabbat according to the opinion of Rabbeinu Tam and at the early beginning of the Shabbat according to the opinion of the Gaon.[9] This approach sidesteps the challenges to both opinions. Additionally, this approach absolutely disputes the view that

• Anyone who rejects the start of Shabbat precisely at or even a few minutes after sunset must embrace the approach of Rabbeinu Tam,

an assumption that does not follow logically, though it is occasionally found in the halakhic literature.[10]

There are numerous arguments in support for this position. We cite several of the strongest:

1. The term mi-she-tishkeh ha-ḥamah: Ramban in Torat Ha-Adam[11] and the many ḥakhemai sforad who adopted his position stress that the meaning of the term mi-she-tishkehha-ḥamah unquestionably implies not sunset but a point after A simpler phrase shikiat ha–ḥamah would denote precisely sunset. Of course, mi-she-tishkehha-ḥamah does not imply any specific time but only that the time follows sunset by some number of minutes. The only change required is to assume that mi-she-tishkeh ha-ḥamah is referring to a point much closer to sunset, something that appears more reasonable than a point over 50 minutes later according to the (theoretical) view of Rabbeinu Tam. In other respects, the gemara is read like the numerous rishonim who assumed that mi-she-tishkeh ha-ḥamah cannot refer to sunset proper.
2. Tosefet Shabbat:[12] Ramban argues that tosefet Shabbat could only begin after sunset during an interval that is still a part of the daytime period. Ramban does not consider tosefet Shabbat prior to sunset as meaningful, equating it to the value of illumination from a candle during daylight.
3. The sugyah in Shabbat applies year-round, not only during a specific season or seasons: The gemara in Pesaḥim 94a, which equates the time needed to walk 40 milin with the daytime period, must assume an average day around either the spring or the fall equinox. In the Middle East, during a winter day of approximately 10 hours or a summer day of approximately 14 hours, the distance covered in one day would vary considerably. However, unlike the gemara in Pesaḥim 94a that can only apply to a 12-hour daytime period, the gemara in Shabbat, defines the end of Shabbat using terms like ḥashekhah, hiḥsif ha-elyon ve-hishveh le-taḥton and the appearance of three stars, all of which apply (nearly) uniformly throughout the year.^[13]

At both the fall and spring equinox, the sun appears in the same place over the equator and you might expect Shabbat to begin and end at the identical time.  Certainly, regardless of how one measures darkness, it is equivalently dark any number of minutes after sunset at those two times.  However, in Jerusalem and other parts of the Middle East, unrelated to the degree of darkness, stars first appear a number of minutes later (after sunset) in the fall than they do in the spring.[14]Advantaged by the early appearance of Sirius and Canopus in the spring but not the fall, the Gaon restricts the focus of the gemara to the spring only.

Note that:

1. All rishonim who choose to comment on the sugyah in Pesaḥim 94a state that the day in question occurs only around the spring (or fall) equinox.
2. Not a single rishon makes an analogous comment, restricting the gemara beginning on Shabbat 34b to any specific time of year.

4. Shmuel’s unchallenged statement:[15]With Prof. Levi’s table (provided in the appendix) as background, examine Shmuel’s unchallenged statement on Shabbat 35a, according to the position of the geonim / Gaon.[16] After discussing the appearance of the horizon and the length of the bein ha-shemashot period, the gemara states the opinion of R. Yehudah in the name of Shmuel who asserts: “one star – daytime, two stars – bein ha-shemashot, and three stars – night.”[17] This is followed by the opinion of Yosi (bar Adin) asserting that the stars in question are neither stars that appear in the day (i. e., large stars[18] or planets) nor small stars that only appear well after the time of tzait ha-kokhavim, but medium stars. How might Shmuel’s statement be reconciled with the previous discussion in the gemara?

• First, exclude the implausible suggestion that R. Yosi bar Adin’s assertion that Shmuel’s statement is referring to medium stars applies only to the third part (or second and third parts) of the text. Under this interpretation, the first part of Shmuel’s statement concerning one star, includes not only medium stars but also large stars or planets that are on occasion visible before sunset.  Were that the case, the statement would be informing us that the appearance of a planet before sunset does not indicate that the bein ha-shemashot period has begun. In addition to being forced to argue that the different parts of Shmuel’s statement refer to different types of stars, such an assertion would hardly be necessary; the gemara gives no hint that the bein ha-shemashot period begins before sunset.[19]
• Second, because R. Yosef begins bein ha-shemashot at the time walk 1/12^th of a mil later than R. Yehudah, some[20] align Shmuel’s statement and even pasken like R. Yosef, assuming that R. Yehudah start to bein ha-shemashot precisely at sunset, cannot be reconciled with Shmuel’s statement. Prof. Levi’s chart challenges that approach, since a delay of at most 2 minutes[21] (after sunset) provides no benefit; the first medium star cannot be seen until at least 6 minutes after sunset.
• Third, there are other (implausible) solutions that align Shmuel with Rabi Yosi only, some going so far as identifying the amora Yosi (bar Adin) as the tanna Rabi Yosi. To follow a sugyah focused on Rabi Yehudah, with an uncontested statement that accords only with Rabi Yosi is dubious, at best. Furthermore, Shmuel’s statement, which refers to the non-instantaneous, successive appearance of stars, is difficult to align with an opinion that the bein ha-shemashot interval is instantaneous.

The most plausible suggestion, like the view of R. Ḥaim Volozhin below, is that the bein hashemashot begins at least 6 minutes after sunset.[22]

5. Seeing stars so early (even if only in the spring) is practically impossible:

If the start of the period of bein ha-shemashot for the geonim / Gaon is precisely sunset, there has been considerable effort^[23] to align the appearance of three stars within the time it takes to walk ¾ of a mil after sunset. The only solution provided is to assume that the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil applies only around the spring equinox[24] ^[25] and, even then, to make yet further assumptions to arrive at so short an interval.  Particularly if the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil is 13.5 minutes and even if it is a bit under 17 minutes, three stars can rarely be seen so soon after sunset and then

• only with great difficulty,
• by experts, perhaps aided by telescopes, and
• in a pristine environment absent urban sources of light, like the Judean desert.

Under no circumstances, is 13.5 minutes possible, and 16.85 minutes is almost equally unreasonable.^[26]

6. Multiple opinions that begin bein ha-shemashot slightly after sunset:

• 4 to 5 minutes: The minimum time reported as the custom of Jerusalem^[27] as well as the opinion of R. Shneur Zalman of Liadi,^[28] the point when the sun is no longer visible even from the highest elevations around Jerusalem.^[29]
• Greater than 6 minutes: The opinion of R. Ḥaim Volozhin based on Shmuel’s statement concerning the appearance of a single star that is visible in the spring to an expert observer at that time.[30] The fact that R. Ḥaim Volozhin disagrees with his Rebbe, strongly suggests that the Gaon’s position that Shabbat starts at precisely sunset was only promulgated le’migdar miltah.
• 7 to 15 minutes: These views are supported by a variety of sources mentioned previously including R. Kapach’s view of Rambam and R. Posen’s view of the opinion of the geonim. A time around 10 minutes is implied by many Sephardi poskim who mention that until the call of the Moslem mugrab for their fourth prayer service, it is still day thus allowing for the performance of a brit on that day for a baby born in those few minutes after sunset on that same day one week earlier.

When linked to the times given in Prof. Levi’s charts, various alternatives from 6 – 16 minutes after sunset can be plausibly suggested.  The next section on how the bein hashemashot interval was intended to be used will shed further light in determining how many minutes after sunset might still be considered daytime.

Section 2.  Before or after

One aspect of the Gaon’s interpretation of Shabbat 34b, often assumed without further examination, is that bein hashemashot is calculated by adding its length to the beginning of the beginning of bein hashemashot period.  That assumption will now be challenged.  Though not conclusive as to how the sugyah should be read, some seforim of near contemporaries[31] of the Gaon assume the opposite approach, subtracting the length of the bein hashemashot interval from the end of Shabbat. The arguments below attempt to demonstrate that this approach may have been standard before the writings of the Gaon proliferated years later in the middle of the 19^th century.[32] While some may argue that counting forward from sunset versus backward from nightfall is somehow tied to the fundamental makhloket of the geonim / Gaon and Rabbeinu Tam, there does not appear to be any logical, textual or halakhic basis for such an assertion.

The fundamental question is:

What possible value could there be in introducing (especially in an era before clocks) a time-based approximation that is a lower bound, season dependent, rarely applicable, and then only under rare, idealized conditions, at best? In what context would such information be useful?

Thus, I propose that the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil should be interpreted differently than the Gaon proposed and instead we will attempt to demonstrate that

• The time to walk ¾ of a mil is to be subtracted from the end of the bein ha-shemashot period as opposed to being added to its beginning.
• The period is not a minimum (that occurs only around the spring equinox), but a maximum (that occurs around the summer solstice). Thus, the entire sugyah is applicable year-round providing a conservative upper-bound to the length of the bein ha-shemashot

The arguments for both assertions are interrelated and are presented concurrently.[33]

1. The gemara in Shabbat is primarily focused on Friday night and determining when the bein ha-shemashot period begins, as opposed to when it ends. The gemara assumes that the end to the period of bein ha-shemashot is known; each of the disputants are addressing when the period of bein ha-shemashot begins on Friday night. However, if the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil were meant to be added to the time of sunset, it would be addressing the end of the bein ha-shemashot period and not the beginning.
2. The three fractions (each expressed as the time needed to walk a part (1/2, 2/3 and ¾) of a mil,) given as alternatives for the length of the period of bein ha-shemashot would then all have identical semantics; each of the three fractions (of the time to walk a mil) is counting back from the assumed point of ḥashekhah, to calculate the beginning of the bein ha-shemashot Given Prof. Levi’s chart, under no circumstances could anyone imagine that the time to walk either ½ of a mil after sunset could be the point at which Shabbat ends. The amoraim, R. Yehudah and R. Yosi, are quantifying the opinion of Rabi Yehudah in contrast to Rabi Nehemiah’s interval, whose period of bein ha-shemashot is only the time needed to walk ½ of a mil.
3. If someone were countering the position of Rabi Yosi, who says the period of bein ha-shemashot is instantaneous, it is more likely that he would say that it can be “as long as” opposed to “as short ”
4. The significant issue raised previously of never seeing stars as early as at the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil after sunset becomes entirely moot.
5. The period of bein ha-shemashot has some practical consequence providing a potentially useable, conservative upper bound as opposed to a purely theoretical lower bound, which is of limited to no use.

6. As noted earlier, rishonim, who limit the gemara in Pesaḥim to the equinox periods in the fall and spring, make no such assertion with respect to the gemara in Shabbat. One might presume from the lack of commentary that rishonim assumed that the sugyah applies year-round.

Treating the gemara in Shabbat like the gemara in Pesaḥim as referring only to days around the spring (but not the fall) equinox^[34] is unnecessary when thinking of the interval as a practical upper bound.  All the other descriptions in the gemara, either the appearance of the sky / horizon or the visibility of three stars, apply year-round.

Now examine the three elements in combination:

• The various opinions of rishonim on the time to walk ¾ of a mil – 13.5, 16.85 and 18 minutes.
• Levi’s chart indicating that 3 stars are visible to a careful observer 30[35] minutes after sunset in the summer.
• The two suggested interpretations that
• delay the beginning of bein hashemashot to a point slightly after sunset, and
• view the sugyah as subtracting the length of bein hashemashot from its end to find its beginning.

We can then assume that Shabbat begins from 12 (subtracting 18 from 30) to 16.5 (subtracting 13.5 from 30) minutes after sunset.[36]  However, given

• very natural and expected stringency that occurs even today but certainly are to expected in an era before (widely available and accurate) clocks, and
• the need for tosefet Shabbat

practiced times for starting Shabbat between 5 and 10 minutes after sunset ought not be surprising.

Section 3. The Gaon’s approach to Pesaḥim 94a.

The Gaon’s approach to Pesaḥim 94a is premised on an incontrovertible astronomic and logical fact. Assuming that alot hashaḥar approximates the first light of the day, then its evening counterpart, tzait ha-kokhavim, must occur when the sun’s illumination has (next to) no remaining effect.^[37]  At both of those times, all stars that are in position to be seen are not obscured by illumination from the sun. As a result, the Gaon adds the word kol to differentiate tzait ha-kokhavim, which throughout the Talmudic literature refers to the appearance of 3 stars, from tzait kol ha-kokhavim, the appearance of “all the (potentially visible) stars.” Of course, this point demolishes^[38] Rabbeinu Tam’s interpretation that is predicated on the assumption that the meaning of the term tzait ha-kokhavim occurring in both Pesaḥim 94a and Shabbat 35a is the same. Slightly reformulated the Gaon asks how could the time of the appearance of only three stars and the time of alot hashaḥar, when (almost) all the stars are still visible, be separated by intervals of identical length from sunset and sunrise respectively?  The pre-dawn counter point to the time after sunset when (only) three stars are first visible cannot be alot hashaḥar when (almost) all stars are still visible.^[39]

This ḥiddush is not unexpected, even though the gemara in Pesaḥim is the primary sugyah used throughout halakhic history to provide a source for determining the time of alot hashaḥar.  Despite that halakhic application, the sugyah is focused primarily on geography and astronomy. Thus, harmonious use of the term tzait ha-kokhavim with its use elsewhere in Talmudic literature, which Rabbeinu Tam assumed, need not be presumed.

Since the notion of tzait kol ha-kokhavim is new, it is also not surprising that the Gaon did not specify, to the best of my knowledge, any halakhic uses for the notion of tzait kol ha-kokhavim. Of course, those who followed Rabbeinu Tam’s position had no reason to even consider a point in the evening after tzait ha-kokhavim.

However, that changed with the arrival of what we colloquially call the Brisker methodology. Talmudists of that school have produced potential halakhic implications. For example, it is not difficult to differentiate between:

• halakhot tied to a specific day or those that are to be performed every day,
• from those that have no connection to any specific day but are restricted to being performed only during the daytime period.

Presumably, the construction of the Beit HaMikdash is a straightforward example. While there is a daytime requirement,^[40] there is no constraint on which day of the week that construction should take place. Another example, which does not comport with the above ḥiluk, has been proposed by R. Moshe Soloveitchik. He suggested the use of tzait kol ha-kokhavim as a delimiter for tosefet Shabbat according to those following the Gaon.  While Shabbat ends at the time of tzait ha-kokhavim, R. Soloveitchik proposed that tosefet Shabbat is meaningful only until tzait kol ha-kokhavim.

While these examples^[41] are noteworthy, the lomdus of a yartzeit shiur by R. Joseph Soloveitchik was astonishing. Effectively, but not explicitly, R. Soloveitchik disregarded both historic interpretation and practice when he transformed Rabbeinu Tam into an early supporter of the notion of tzait kol ha-kokhavim.^[42]  As presented in that shiur, though expressed slightly differently, the dispute between the Gaon and Rabbeinu Tam revolves around whether Shabbat ends at tzait ha-kokhavim or tzait kol ha-kokhavim.^[43]

In R. Soloveitchik’s formulation, the Gaon defined a critical point along a continuum beginning at the point of sunset, when there is almost complete exposure to the sun’s illumination, and ending at the point of tzait kol ha-kokhavim when no noticeable impact from the sun’s illumination can still be detected. That critical point occurs roughly when 3 medium stars first become visible and marks the transition point between days of the week according to the geonim / Gaon.  Rabbeinu Tam, however, according to R. Soloveitchik’s formulation, defined the transition between days of the week at the point when the sun’s impact has ended entirely, a point corresponding to the end of the continuum, at tzait kol ha-kokhavim.^[44]

A possible approach that R. Soloveitchik did not employ is that the Gaon and Rabbeinu Tam decided differently based on two conflicting sugyot in Shabbat and Pesaḥim, respectively. Of course, that would be at variance with Rabbeinu Tam’s normal methodology for resolving conflicting sugyot.  Rabbeinu Tam tends to distinguish between sugyot, something he does explicitly with respect to these sugyot, as opposed to declaring sugyot in conflict and deciding between them. The principal motivation for even raising such a possibility is R. Soloveitchik’s complete avoidance of any mention of the challenges to Rabbeinu Tam’s position from the sugyah in Shabbat. This leads me to wonder if in R. Soloveitchik’s ahistorical reformulation of Rabbeinu Tam, and for reasons entirely unstated, R. Soloveitchik gave the sugyah in Pesaḥim prominence and preference over the sugyah in Shabbat according to Rabbeinu Tam.

Conclusions:

It is not at all usual to treat a ruling of the Gaon as le’migdar miltah.  However, three things increase my confidence that I am correct in this instance.

1. The reality as described in the epistle of the Ba’al ha’Tanya referenced earlier, who lived at the same time and in the same general area, clearly describes people working beyond 30 minutes after sunset, something that the Gaon would be motivated to prevent as resolutely as possible.
2. The opinion of R. Ḥaim Volozhin, in open disagreement with the Gaon’s stated position, demands a reconciliation of views.
3. The textual arguments made by rishonim, the halakhic writings and positions of noted aḥaronim, and the various arguments that I have formulated appear convincing.

What should be noted is the Gaon’s interesting ability to impact not just pesak, but the way we (perhaps even unconsciously) approach the study of sugyot.

Appendix

Prof. Levi’s Table

The three times listed in each cell of the table correspond to how difficult it is to see a star.

• The shortest time noted is when an expert who knows exactly where to look can observe a star.
• The intermediate time noted is when a star can be seen with great difficulty.
• The third time noted is when a careful observer can see a star.

The time when stars are visible to a casual observer, is yet later.

[1] My assumption is that poskim may find the innovations useful in exceptional situations as opposed to more typical ones.
[2] According to the vast majority of rishonim, the day ends when bein ha-shemashot ends or at most 2 minutes later.
[3] Familiarity with both sugyot is assumed to fully assess this essay.
[4] See my article in Hakirah spring 2019 for more detail on the Gaon’s convincing attack on Rabbeinu Tam’s position.
[5] A version of that reading is presented in Ohr Meir as the opinion of the geonim, who R. Posen seeks to demonstrate conflict with that of the Gaon.  What the Gaon felt mei ikar ha’din can be disputed as will be illustrated.  Even if one were to reject any variation of the Gaon’s stated position, this paper can also be considered to apply to the less specific view of the geonim.
[6] Both 72 or 90 minutes are increasingly assumed to apply only in the Middle East around both equinoxes and require adjustment (using depression angles) to account for variation by season and latitude.
[7] These positions are more properly characterized as variants of the position of the geonim / Gaon as they are all much closer to their normally assumed period of bein ha-shemashot.
[8] Throughout R. Kapach’s commentary on Mishnah Torah, however, he asserts that this is the position of Rambam. See R. Posen’s view as well, mentioned in footnote 5.
[9] This seminal point was made explicitly by R. Chaim Sonnenfeld in teshuvah 33 (an approbation to a sefer on zemanim) in a recently published volume of his teshuvot.  His reaction, as might be expected, was to be maḥmir, and fulfill the stringencies of both opinions. I argue that the strengths of both opinions lead to the opposite and more probable conceptual position, adopting the leniencies of both positions.
[10] See Vol. 2 of HaZemanim BeHalakha by R. Ḥaim Benish, page 360, especially footnote 58.
[11] Pages 251 – 252, Chavel edition, Mossad Ha-Rav Kook.
[12] This argument is included due to its ancient provenance; it is easily challenged given that it is normally assumed that tosefet Shabbat can begin at plag ha’minḥah, which precedes sunset.
[13] Note as well, that the gemara in Pesaḥim 94a applies to

• a day of average length,
• which occurs around both the spring and fall equinox.

However, the days that would be referred to in Shabbat 34b would be

• a minimum, as opposed to an average, and
• restricted to those days when the appearance of three stars occurs within the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil after sunset. For astronomic reasons such days occur only in the spring and not in the fall.

While neither of these two differences is itself convincing, both lend further support to the thesis developed.
[14] See the chart by Prof. Levi provided in the attachment.
[15] A more extensive analysis of Shmuel’s statement will appear in a future issue of the Torah u’Maddah journal.
[16] This section assumes detailed familiarity with the sugyah on Shabbat 34b-35b.
[17] Prepositions have been omitted from the statement in order not to bias the semantics.
[18] Large stars are defined as kokhavei lekhet, moving stars, currently called planets. Other approaches to dividing stars into categories are much less likely and not considered.
[19] The isolated opinion of R. Eliezer mi’Mitz, who begins the bein ha-shemashot period before sunset, is difficult to reconcile with Shmuel’s statement, in any case.
[20] See the last two paragraphs on page 358 and especially footnote 50 in Vol. 2 of HaZemanim BeHalakha.
[21] The time to walk 1/12 of a mil is between 1.5 and 2 minutes.
[22] While normally I would assume Prof. Levi’s third entry matches Shmuel’s assertion, since this statement might mean seeing a star does not mean bein ha-shemashot has necessarily begun, it might mean just an accidental sighting, which may occur at the earliest time possible when normally only an expert, knowing exactly where to look, can locate a star.
[23] R. Benish, R. Willig, Prof. Levi among many others struggle with this issue.
[24] In the spring Sirius and Canopus can both be seen around 15 minutes after sunset.
[25] Having seen no earlier discussion of this issue anywhere in the halakhic literature, I believe this interpretation originated with the Gaon in O. Ḥ. 261. The alternative under discussion, delaying the start of bein ha-shemashot by some small number of minutes after sunset, eliminating the hypothesis that bein ha-shemashot begins precisely at sunset, which leads to such questions.
[26] Perhaps one can assume some worsening of atmospheric conditions, as a result of pollution, slightly decreasing visibility.  I spoke with a chemist in my synagogue, Dr. Irwin Goldblatt, who verified this as a possibility.  I have no basis to determine how accurate this observation might be, but it is hard to imagine that it is consequential.
[27] See Minhagei Eretz Yisrael by R. Gliss, pages 102 and 282.
[28] Seder Hakhnosat Shabbat, found towards the end of every Ḥabad siddur, specifies 4 minutes. He reverses the position he took in Shulḥan Arukh HaRav, which supported Rabbeinu Tam.
[29]See Zemanim Ke’hilkhatam by R. Boorstyn, chapter 2, section 3, where he summarizes different 19^th and 20^th century posekim in the Middle East who supported times beyond 4 to 5 minutes and up to approximately 10 minutes after sunset.  The rationale he and many of these posekim used is varied often relying on the notion of sea level and / or visibility from higher elevations, a topic of continued debate.
[30] See the addition to Maaseh Rav section 19.  Six minutes is expressed as 1/10^th of an hour to be applied in both the morning and evening, although Shmuel’s assertion of “one star – daytime” is given as the reason for the slight delay after sunset. How R. Ḥaim Volozhin determined this precise time that equals the time at which an expert can see Sirius remains a mystery.
[31] R. Adler, R. Loerberbaum, and R. Sofer all subtract the length of the bein hashemashot interval from the end of Shabbat, see my article, Zemannim: On the Introduction of New Concepts in Halakhah, in the TuMJ 2013.
[32] It goes without saying that the instantaneous communication that characterizes of our current environment cannot be anachronistically assumed in a prior period. This impacts the assumptions made about when some of these sources are read / known, a topic not pursued further.
[33] A set of arguments based on the statement of Shmuel about 1, 2 and 3 stars are not included and will be incorporated in a future paper examining both Shmuel statement and Rambam in multiple sections of Mishnah Torah, based on their mastery of astronomy as it was known in their times.
[34] First suggested by the Gaon in O. Ḥ. 261, this approach is widely assumed in recent halakhic literature. Note that the gemara in Pesaḥim assumes an average day, which occurs in both the spring and fall around the equinox.  However, the Gaon’s argument assumes, not an average interval, but a minimum interval and one that occurs only in the spring, but not in the fall; stars are not visible as early in the fall as in the spring.  On the other hand, as suggested, a maximum would apply year-round.
[35] Prof. Levi uses a depression angle normalization to spring, which we will not explain.  His use of 28 is in fact closer to 30 minutes, as normally defined by clock-time.
[36] 12 – 13 minutes is consistent with the many rishonim supporting a time to walk a mil of 22.5 minutes.
[37] There is no reason to debate whether the underlying science favors either of the two most common halakhic definitions, which sandwich current technology’s identification of the point at which the first light of the sun is visible. Expressed as depression angles the 72- and 90-minute intervals equate to depression angles of approximately 16 and 20 degrees, respectively. With the best available equipment, light from the sun can be observed at a depression angle of approximately 18 degrees. One can then argue that 16 degrees is when the amount of light is visible to humans, while 20 degrees is when one arises in anticipation of emerging light. Both are reasonable positions for defining alot hashaḥar.
[38] So strong a word is intentional given the “bombe” kasha of the Gaon; see immediately below.
[39] R. Moshe Sofer might be trying to deal with this point about a symmetric point to the appearance of three stars in his commentary on Shabbat 34.
[40] See Rambam, Hilkhot Beit Ha’Beḥirah (1:12). Rambam’s formulation is originally stated in the negative, which raises possible questions that might be analyzed in this context.
[41] Other possible examples include the operation of a beit din, the laws of aveilut, particularly the first day, etc.
[42] The philosophical underpinnings that would enable such ahistorical ḥiddushim is beyond the scope of this article. Despite an accusation of partiality, one cannot dismiss the assumption that R. Soloveitchik was aware of the various challenges to his ḥiddush. Despite bringing support from the period of the rishonim, I believe the Rav was establishing what he knew to be a restatement of Rabbeinu Tam’s position, based on the undeniable accuracy and correctness of the Gaon’s notion of tzait kol ha-kokhavim. In my own mind, I have played out a long and imagined conversation with R. Soloveitchik on this subject.
[43] For any number of reasons, it is difficult to imagine the perspective presented was that of Rabbeinu Tam. Rather, it might represent Rabbeinu Tam’s position updated and enhanced by what is now known scientifically.
[44] What I also do not understand is why R. Soloveitchik referred to the mathematical notion of continuity as opposed to any astronomical knowledge, which I think would have been more relevant.

Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto (Rapaport) Ashkenazi: A Renaissance Rabbi of Interest[1]

by Marvin J. Heller

R. Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto (Rapaport) is a sixteenth century rabbi of particular interest. An intriguing, eclectic, and erudite figure, his life encompasses events that effected mid-century Jewry, recorded in his work. His books, two only published, are varied and unusual, one due to its subject matter, cryptography, the other a response to the banning of the Talmud and, as a result, turning from study of that work to Kabballah. His Minhah Belulah attempting a returning to more traditional studies by providing a Torah commentary based on Midrashim.

“From His right hand He presented the fiery Torah to them” (Deuteronomy 33:2). “The Torah is compared to fire, when a man comes too close, he is burned, when too distant he is cold, so too the Torah . . . this also alludes to the great destruction our eyes have witnessed, due to our many iniquities” (Minhah Belulah on Deuteronomy 33:2)

R. Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto (Rapaport, 1520 – 1596) Ashkenazi is an intriguing, eclectic, erudite figure. He is primarily remembered today for his Minhah Belulah, a commentary on the Torah based on Midrashim and his remarks in that work on the burning of the Talmud in 1553.[2] The Minhah Belulah, certainly worthy of our consideration, eclipses Abraham Menahem’s other accomplishments, which are multifaceted and also deserving of attention. This article addresses the Minhah Belulah but is also intended to draw attention to R. Abraham Menahem’s other books and activities.

A member of the Porto family which came to Italy from Lublin, Abraham Menahem was born in Porto in the vicinity of Verona. The family name Rapa stems from the German (Rappe in Middle High German), for raven. Rappoport is a combination of the Rapa, with Porto, done to distinguish this branch of the family from other Rapa branches, a fact alluded to in the introduction to the Minhah Belulah. At a young age Abraham Menahem went to Venice where he studied secular as well as rabbinic subjects, particularly medicine; his wide scholarship being evident from his works, particularly his Torah commentary, Minhah Belulah (Verona, 1594).

His teachers included R. Elijah Levita (Bahur, c. 1468-1549) the renowned Hebrew philologist and Vittore (Victor) Trincavella (1496-1568) with whom he studied medicine, this in addition to his traditional Talmudic studies.[3] Subsequently, prior to accepting a rabbinic position, Abraham Menahem worked in Venice as a proofreader and editor for the Bragadin press; many of the books he edited have introductions or verse from him. Among the books that he worked on was Maimonides’ (Rambam) Mishnah Torah, that resulted in the controversy leading to the burning of the Talmud.[4] He would subsequently serve as rabbi in Cremona and Verona.[5] In the latter, where he officiated from 1584 to 1592, Abraham Menahem also headed a highly regarded yeshiva.

In addition to the Minhah Belulah, Abraham Menahem wrote and/or is credited with several other works, most still in manuscript, among them commentaries on several books of the Bible and Avot. I. T. Eisenstadt and S. Wiener ascribe another Torah commentary to Abraham Menahem, Soles Belulah, but there is no record of any such work by him. Soles Belulah is also noted, most briefly, by R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai (Hida, 1724-1806).[6] Moritz Steinschneider (1816-1907) also refers to such a book, the entry in his catalogue of the Bodleian Library stating: “excerpta in Bibliis Rabb,” dating it (1724-27). Steinschneider also references other bibliographies where it is mentioned.[7] Ma’amar’al Mezi’ut ha-Shedim, unpublished, on the existence of devils, is also credited to Abraham Menahem by several bibliographers, among them Eisenstadt and S. Wiener and Israel Zinberg, the latter writing that “A special work about spirits and evil ones was written by the well-known Menahem Kohen Porto” but without specifying the title of the work.[8] In addition to these books, Abraham Menahem wrote responsa, unpublished excepting one entitled Dagim, printed in R. Isaac Hezkiah ben Samuel Lampronti’s (1679-1756) Paḥad Yitzhak.[9] Another responsum credited to Abraham Menahem concerns the wearing of tefillin during hol ha-Moed, reported as being in Teshuvot R. Abraham Menahem Porto ha-Kohen, sect. 163.[10]

Abraham Menahem was among those who prohibited reading the Me’or Einayim (Mantua, 1573) of Azariah de Rossi (c. 1511 – c. 1578). Me’or Einayim (Enlightenment of the eyes) was the most controversial Hebrew book of the sixteenth century. A series of historical essays, de Rossi was motivated to write it by an earthquake that began on November 18, 1571, in Ferrara, destroying his residence, much of the city, but not its ten synagogues, with 200 people perishing in one night. In Me’or Einayim, de Rossi describes the earthquake, and addresses classical and scientific reasons for the disaster. A conversation with a Christian resulted in Azariah translating the Apocryphal, Letter of Aristeas, into Hebrew (Hadrat Zekenim), and in the third part of Me’or Einayim attention is directed to Philo, and other Jewish authors no longer widely read, asserting that the former utilized the Greek Septuagint rather than the Hebrew Bible. De Rossi suggests that Midrashic literature should not be understood literally and questions Talmudic chronology. The resulting herem (ban), stated that “no person of any congregation . . . may have this composition in their possession, either in whole or in part, or study it, unless each individual shall have first obtained permission in writing from the sages of their city.”[11]

Abraham Menahem, despite not having actually seen the Me’or Einayim, not only presented the herem to his congregation but, in a sermon, admonished them to not be led astray by a heretical book that, in contrast to its name, Me’or Einayim, actually “darkens the sight and undermines the foundations of Judaism.” Furthermore, in a letter to R. Menahem de Fano, Abraham Menahem indicates that although he has not yet seen Me’or Einayim he is aware from personal conversations with de Rossi that de Rossi “rejects the Jewish mode of reckoning time.”[12] Subsequently, however, after R. David Provencal and R. Judah Moscato, both rabbis in Mantua, permitted Me’or Einayim to be read, Abraham Menahem retracted his position.[13] Abraham Menahem also signed takkanot (prohibitions) forbidding gambling (1573) and infringing on moneylending franchises held by fellow Jews.[14]

As noted above, the earliest published work, attributed to Abraham Menahem in bibliographies and Encyclopedias, with the exception of Eisenstadt, who attributes it to another Menahem, is Zafenat Pane’ah on cryptography, with a cipher-code of his own invention. Steischneider described Zafenat Pane’ah as “Revelator arcanorum De Cryptographia {w³1433. Rof. Diz., lib. Stmp. P60. 8. en. 1556. 4289:3.[15]

Abraham Menahem spent two years preparing Zafenat Pane’ah. In the absence of the place of publication, locations such as Venice (Steinschneider), Ferrara (BenJacob), and Sabbioneta (Sonne) have been suggested. Avraham Yaari, following Sonne, records Zafenat Pane’ah as a Sabbioneta imprint, including it among the books published by the Foa press in that location.[16] The National Library of Israel records Zafenat Pane’ah, giving the location as Sabbioneta but also notes Riva as a possible place of publication.[17] Zafenat Pane’ah was reprinted twice, in Venice [1620] and in Prague, no date.[18]

The title-page, perchance intentionally cryptic, does not identify the publisher, place of printing, or author, although the latter is evident from the text. Zafenat Pane’ah was published as a small booklet, described as either a duodecimo (12⁰) or an octavo (8⁰🙂 consisting of [6ff]. The title, Zafenat Pane’ah, is from, “And Pharaoh called Joseph’s name Zafenat Pane’ah” (Genesis 41:45), which Rashi explains as, “he who reveals hidden things.” As stated on the title-page, the purpose of the book is to enable one may to write a letter to a friend so that all who see it will not understand it.

The text of the title-page, which as noted above, lacks the date and place of publication, as well as having no ornamentation, states,

“See, this is new!” (Ecclesiastes 1:10); “In a levelled way” (cf. Jeremiah 18:15); “that they should do according to every man’s pleasure” (Esther 1:8); to write letters to one’s companion as a sealed book that will not be intelligible to those who see it. Even if alien eyes peruse the writing, in this manner it will be a great marvel, that tens of thousands of men all together should write in this way, that one should not understand the thinking of his companion. Even if “all go to one place” (Ecclesiastes 3:20) and hew from one quarry, something impossible to be heard and from intelligence withheld. If not after searching this page, confirming its great benefit as “your eyes uphold righteousness” (cf. Psalms 17:2).

1555, Zafenat Pane’ah
Courtesy of the National Library of Israel

The title-page is followed by Abraham Menahem’s lengthy effusive dedication to his uncle, R. Jacob Mugil, in which he also discusses the need for and value of cryptography, concluding with the date Tuesday, 15 October, 1555, Venice, signed Menahem of Porto. Next is a brief introduction in which the rules of encryption are discussed. He writes that there should be a sign between the writer and the recipient, whether in Hebrew, Ashkenaz, or whichever language the writer chooses, and it does not matter if the signs are numerous or few in number. “‘One who does much sacrifice and one who does less, as long as’ (Berakhot 5a, 17b) he places one letter with another as I will explain.” After some brief instructions on spacing Abraham Menahem signs his name as Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen from Porto.

Abraham Menahem’s name follows given in a bold, brief statement referring to the coding of his name, and, also in bold letters, the verse “If you had not plowed with my heifer, you would not have found out my riddle,” (Judges 14:18 ) This is followed by an example, in which Porto’s name appears as Menahem bar Jacob ha-Kohen mi-Porto, followed by the verse. His name is then spelled out over the verse as an encryption example. The text follows, discussing the subject of cryptography.

1555, Zafenat Pane’ah
Courtesy of the Jewish Theological Seminary

Turning to the Minhah Belulah, the work for which Abraham Menahem is best known, that work, a commentary on the Torah, based on Midrashim, was published in Verona (1594) as a quarto (4⁰: [3], 208, [1] ff.).[19] His motivation in writing the Minhah Belulah was the lack of Talmudic tractates. This resulted from the dispute between the Bragadin and Giustiniani presses over their editions of the Mishnah Torah, as noted above, which culminated in the burning of the Talmud, this based on a papal bull, dated August 22, 1553, ordering the confiscation and burning of the Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmuds and prohibiting their possession. Among the results was a decline in Talmudic and midrashic studies and a turn to kabbalistic works. The Minhah Belulah is an attempt to achieve something of a balance in such studies under prohibitive conditions.

1594, Minhah Belulah
Courtesy of The Library of Agudas Chassidei Chabad Ohel Yosef Yitzhak

The title, Minhah Belulah, is from the phrase minhah belulah (a meal offering mixed) במנחה בלולה, which appears in seven verses in the Torah, three in Leviticus, four in Numbers, albeit with different prefatory letters.[20] The title-pages states that it is,

Minhah Belulah

A commentary on the Hamishah Homshei Torah, prepared and written by the complete sage R. Abraham Menahem ben R. Jacob Kohen Rapa mi-Porto. The author explains there in detail many Midrashim and straight forward explanations augmenting them with interpretations of his own in a language that is clear and straightforward so that when one rests on the Sabbath, festivals, and appointed times from all his exertions he will peruse it and find in it great value “according to each man’s pleasure” (Esther 1:8) and according to his abilities.

Printed here in the capital city of Verona at the press of Messer Francesco dalle Donne

Beginning of the work was on Monday, the fifth day of the month of Iyar in the year “Rejoice שמחו (354=1594, April 15, 1594) with Jerusalem, and be glad with her, all you who love her [all you who mourn for her].” (Isaiah 66:10). May the Lord in His mercy grant us the merit to publish many books, and save us from errors and show us wonders, great and numerous “to the lawgivers of Israel” (Judges 5:9) “and a redeemer will come to Israel” (Isaiah 59:20) and so may He do. Amen.

In the domain of the rulers of Venice, may their majesty be exalted higher and higher. Amen

In the year of our lord the Duke Pasquale Cigona, may he be exalted, higher and higher Amen.

As noted above, Abraham Menahem varies the manner in which he gives his name. This is most evident in the Minhah Belulah, for as Hida observes, Abraham Menahem gives his name on the title-page of the Minhah Belulah as Rapa mi-Porto and at the end as bar Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto. Afterwards, Abraham Menahem writes it as R. Abraham ha-Kohen mi-Porto. Hida then comments that a source for these variaitions stems from one place, for he saw the Maharikh (R. Isaac Ha-Kohen Rapoport), author of Batei Kehunah (I, Izmir, 1741, II, Salonica 1744) that for Ashkenaz he signed his name as Isaac ha-Kohen Rapa Port from the seed of the priesthood in Lublin. Hida adds that he saw his father’s name who signed as Judah ha-Kohen Ashkenazi.[21]

The title-page informs that the publisher of the Minhah Belulah was Francesco Dalle Donne, an Italian printer whose primary business was Italian not Hebrew books. Active from 1592 into the seventeenth century, Dalle Donne was the first printer to publish books with Hebrew type in Verona, publishing the latter for about three years only, and then issuing less than ten titles, the majority in Yiddish, two only in Hebrew, the Minhah Belulah and the Midrash Tanhuma. Jews were prohibited from owning print-shops during the Counter-Reformation, from the mid-sixteenth century, so the presses publishing Hebrew books in Italy in this period belonged to non-Jews. The involvement of Christian printers, in this case Dalle Donne, with the Hebrew book market was not uncommon.[22]

Christian printers published Hebrew books in association with Jewish partners. The relationship between Christian printers and their Jewish partners 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.”[23] In addition to the non-Jew’s access to the Jewish book market, the Jewish associate was not only able to publish Hebrew books, but he also gained access to the typographical material of his Christian partner. 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 pressmark and 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.[24]

The Dalle Donne press employed Abraham Bath-Sheba to print the Minhah Belulah. Abraham Bath-Sheba was the son of Sabbatai Mattathias Bath-Sheba (Basevi in Italian), an Italian-Jewish family of German (Ashkenazic) origin. Originally from Italy, Sabbatai Mattathias Bath-Sheba and his family relocated to Salonika where they operated a press, active from 1592 to 1605.[25] Interested in printing tractates from the Talmud the press sent Abraham Bath-Sheba to Italy to secure financing for the project. While in Italy he worked briefly for the Dalle Donne press in Verona, soon afterwards returning to Salonica.[26]

The title-page is followed by Abraham Menahem’s introduction, somewhat unusual, as stated in its header “ALEF BET ‘O you who linger in the garden, listening’ (song of Songs 8:13) ‘at the gate of the many-peopled city’” (cf. Song 7:5) You will come, brought into the Temple of your glory, blessings without account.” The header ALEF BET does not refer to the first letters of the Hebrew alphabet. alef bet, but rather to the fact that the introduction is comprised of one thousand (alef) instances of the letter bet, as can be seen from the first two lines of the introduction, below, emphasis added.

בחלון בתי בעד אשנבי אביוני בבנים הקרבים בקרב ובאים בגבורות חובורות
להציב הדרכים לבנות חורבות ולשובב נתיבות קצובות חצובות מחוטבות

“I have looked out of the window of my house though the lattice” (Proverbs 7:6) and the needy of your sons engaged in battle, and coming with mighty bruises,
To establish the ways, rebuild the ruins, and establish paths, . .

The introduction concludes with a page a verse, followed by the text. The enlarged initial words of each of the five books of the Hamishah Homshei Torah (Pentateuch) are set within a like ornate attractive outer frame comprised of an urban scene at the top with a male and female head at either side, below at the sides are bare female figures, and at the bottom two supine figures. The varying initial words are set with different backgrounds and side images (below).

Vayikra (Leviticus)

Devarim (Deuteronomy)

Two examples of the style of Abraham Menahem’s commentary follows.

“[Then the Lord God fashioned the side that He had taken from the man into a woman] and He brought her to the man” (Genesis 2:22). Suddenly, and while distracted, so that he would be most delighted with her, for most joy is felt when sudden, and so sorrow, as it says “Hezekiah rejoiced with them, etc.” (Isaiah 39:2) for the matter was sudden, and so, according to our sages “three things come when they are not expected, [Messiah], a find, [and a scorpion], etc. (Sanhedrin 97a) and a woman is called a find, as it is written “One who has found a wife has found good.” (Proverbs 18:22).

“[And you – lift up your staff and stretch out your arm over the sea ] and split it” (Exodus 14:16) and with the merit that “he split the wood for the offering” (Genesis 22:3) and thus he modified the language “[and the Children of Israel shall come] into the midst of the sea on dry land” in the midst of the place that was sea, and made dry land: “Lift up your staff and stretch out your arm” so that the Egyptians said that Moses did all of this with his staff, therefore [the Holy One, Blessed be He] said lift up your staff, as with “Remove yourself from among the assembly” (Numbers 17:10) and do the miracle with your hand.

Another different type of elucidation of a biblical passage, this on the verse “He said, ‘No longer will it be said that your name is Jacob but Israel . . .” (Genesis 32:29) is given by Abraham Menahem,

Israel ישראל A name that includes all the Patriarchs and Matriarchs י Yitzhak (Isaac) ש Sarah ר Rivkah ר Rachel א Abraham ל Leah. Even though we find that afterwards he is called by the name Jacob, perhaps it was not changed so that they would not say because he was a trickster it was changed (referring to the purchase of the birthright from Esau) and also because the Holy One, blessed be He gave him that name as I explained by “ and He called his name Jacob” (Genesis 25:26).

There is also some commentary reflecting current conditions, as noted above in the lead paragraph. Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto (Rapaport, 1520- c. 1594) had been an eyewitness to the burning of the Talmud in Venice in 1553, which tragic event is reported in the Minhah Belulah, on the phrase “. . . a fiery law unto them,” (Deuteronomy 33:2), That paragraph, in further detail, says”

And He said: He gave the reason why Israel was more appropriate for the blessing than the other nations, idol worshippers . . . From His right hand [He presented] the fiery Torah [to them]. “The Torah is compared to fire, when a man comes too close, he is burned, when too distant he is cold, so too the Torah . . . and this also alludes to the great destruction our eyes have witnessed, due to our many iniquities, throughout Italy. The burning of the Oral Law [Talmud] in the year שיד[as in] “the hand יד of the Lord was upon us.” The decree went out from the city of Rome to use [the Talmud volumes] as fuel for the fire. In Venice, woe to the eyes that saw this, on the thirteenth and fourteenth of Marheshvan [5]514 (October 31, November 1, 1553), a continuous fire which was not extinguished. I fixed these days for myself, for each and every year, for fasting, weeping, and mourning, for this day was as bitter for me as the burning of the House of our God (the Temple).

The text concludes on 206b, followed on 207ab by an afterward by Abraham Menahem in which, as noted above, he informs that he has only written this for his generation which lacks Talmudic tractates, they having been taken away, their place replaced by kabbalistic studies; this work has been written not for sages but for those who want the revealed Torah rather than hidden (kabbalistic) meanings, “to quench the thirst of those who want straight forward meanings or midrash,” as noted in the alef bet introduction.

Below the afterward is Abraham Menahem’s escutcheon, consisting of two scantily clad women at the sides holding a streamer that says “Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen.” Between the women is a shield and within it two spread hands giving the priestly benediction, below that a black raven on a branch, and at the bottom another streamer that says “Rapa me-Porto.”[27] In the reprint of the Minhah Belulah (B’nei Brak,1989) the women are more modestly covered.

Yet another modest version of Abraham Menahem’s escutcheon was published in yet another recent work, this Benjamin Shlomo Hamburger’s three volume history, Ha-Yeshiva ha-Rama bi-Fiorda (Bnei Brak, 2010). It is described by Michael K. Silber in an article entitled “Modesty and Piety: Improving on the Past” as having “been modestly transgendered and piously rendered with beards!”[28] Below is original example escutcheon and the two more modest figures.

1594, Minhah Belulah, Verona

1989, Minhah Belulah, B’nei Brak

2010, Minhah Belulah, B’nei Brak

Under the original, that is the first printing of the escutcheon is a statement informing that the work was written [completed] in Cremona on Wednesday, 24 Shevat, [5]342 (January 27, 1582), when Abraham Menahem was, rabbi in Cremona. On the following page is the apologia of the proofreader (editor), Abraham ben Jehiel Kohen Porto.

It begins with a header, initially misspelled, being given asהמגיעה rather than the correct המגיה, resulting in a stop-press correction.[29] The proofreader (editor) Abraham ben Jehiel, a kinsman, addressees the issue of typographical errors in the Minhah Belulah in his remarks, apologizing for any errors in the book, for “Who can discern mistakes” (Psalms 19:13). He informs that not only was he careful but that Abraham Bath-Sheba was diligent in the supervising the compositors reviewing the type setting, “letter by letter.” Nevertheless, the work was done by uncircumcised workers (non-Jews), inexperienced in setting Hebrew letters, and it was not possible to avoid errors. Neither they nor the author, therefore, should be held responsible for any errors, but requests they be judged favorably.[30]

We conclude our discussion of the Minhah Belulah, appropriately, by noting that, in addition to the ornamentation already mentioned there are also tail-pieces at the end of several parts of the books. Most are simply decorative use of florets or of an arch. In two instances, however, the tail-piece is of a figure on both sides of a vase. This too is not an image consistent with traditional Jewish sensibilities, reflecting the use of ornamentation by Jewish printers of their non-Jewish partners’ typographical material.

The Minhah Belulah is concisely noted in Shabetai Bass’s Sifte Yeshenim (Amsterdam. 1680) the first bibliography of Hebrew books by a Jewish author.[31] It has subsequently been regularly recorded in Hebrew bibliographies. The Minhah Belulah was first reprinted in a Pentateuch (Hamburg, 1795), reprinted in Warsaw (1853), and perhaps elsewhere. The only standalone edition of the Minhah Belulah was printed in Bnei Brak by R. Jacob David Kohen (1989).[32]

R. Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto (Rapaport) is, as stated at the beginning of this article “an intriguing eclectic figure. . . . primarily remembered today for his Minhah Belulah, a commentary on the Torah.” That work, although not frequently reprinted, is highly regarded by all who are familiar with it. Abraham Menahem’s accomplishments, however, are more varied, making him an unusual and interesting personality. Clearly a person of great erudition, not only for his mastery of rabbinic sources, such as the Talmud and Midrashim, but also for his extensive knowledge, encompassing medicine and, this most unusual, cryptography.

In addition, to the works just noted, Abraham Menahem also wrote responsa and, perhaps in the context of his contemporary activities, he was an important rabbinic figure, leading congregations in Cremona and Verona and head of a yeshivah. Nevertheless, R. Abraham Menahem ben Jacob ha-Kohen Rapa mi-Porto (Rapaport) is best remembered today for his Minhah Belulah, which, as this article has attempted to show, is a valuable and important contribution to rabbinic exegetical literature.

R. Brodt has already discussed the custom of azharot on Shavous, I wanted to discuss another Shavous custom – akdamut. Akdamut is the poem in Aramaic which is said around the time of the reading of the Torah on the first day of Shavuot.

This poem, composed by R. Meir ben Isaac who lived in Worms in the 11th century. He was also know as R. Meir Sha”tz (Shiliach Tzibor). The poem itself describes what happens in heaven when the angels sing their praises to god as well as god’s relationship with the Jewish people. The earliest source which records the custom to say akdamut is R. Ya’akov Molin (MaHRiL). The custom is then mentioned in most of the traditional codifiers of Ashkenazic custom.

The placement of akdamut is the subject of some controversy. According to the earliest sources which record the custom, they place the recitation of akdamut after the first passuk is read from the Torah. This was the accepted custom for many years. In the 17th century some began to question the propriety of interrupting the Torah reading with this poem. This controversy was brought to head in Venice where there were both Ashkenazim and Sefardim. As the Sefardim did not say akdamut at all, they found it highly questionable whether one can insert such a late poem in the middle of the Torah reading. This became a large controversy in Venice. The question was raised about the propriety of Ashkenazi customs in general and whether the Sefardic majority (in Vencie) could pass judgment on customs which they do not follow.

R. Ephraim HaKohen was asked a host of questions related to this controversy. First, can a Sefardic court decide about the propriety of an Ashkenazic custom, or are they considered “suspect” as they do not follow that custom? Second, is the custom of akdamut correct – to read it after the first passuk? And, finally, what is the effect of Sefardic customs vis-à-vis Ashkenazic ones when one group is in the majority?
He responded that first, there is no issue of a Sefardic court deciding on the customs of Ashkenazim. But, he explained that although in Venice the majority is comprised of Sefardim, that fact alone does not affect the Ashkenazic custom – as majority is not decided by a raw majority of people, but rather, a majority of people who follow a particular custom. Thus, you would look only at the Ashkenazic community to decide this issue based on majority. Or as he puts it “the majority of Sefardim is nothing when it comes to Ashkenazim.”

Finally, he discusses whether it is correct to pause and recite akdamut during the Torah reading. He explains that this is a correct custom, in part, because those who decided to do this to begin with were obviously aware of this issue and decided to do so anyways. He concludes that as this is a well-established custom it should remain in effect.

While R. Ephraim HaKohen spent a considerable amount of time justifying this practice (it is a very long responsa), his descendant R. Ya’akov Emden felt, irrespective of his great-grandfather, that it was wrong to interrupt the Torah reading. In his siddur, R. Emden takes issue, recognizing that although his great-grandfather justified the practice, there can in fact be no justification. The only proper place is prior to the start of the entire Torah reading – but one can not interrupt the Torah reading for akdamut. R. Emden argues that R. Ephraim’s assumption that the ones who instituted akdamut also knew about this problem, is meaningless. R. Emden explains that the early Ashkenazim had no problem interrupting in all sorts of instances for piyyutim, thus it is unsurprising to find they did it again here. But, R. Emden, says when it is no longer acceptable to recite many piyyutim there can be no justification for reciting akdamut during the Torah reading.

A similar stance to that of R. Emden is found in R. David ben Shmuel haLevi’s work – Turei Zehav or TaZ. He also complains about interrupting the Torah reading with this piyyut.

Based himself upon the same concerns as R. Emden and the TaZ, R. Aryeh Gunzberg (Sha’agas Aryeh) when he took the Chief Rabbi position of Metz argued that the community should change their custom from reciting akdamut after the first passuk and move it before the Torah reading. The community, however, would have none of that and refused to agree to the change. The Sha’gas Aryeh then threatened to leave Metz. In the end, the “compromise” was the Sha’agas Aryeh only came to the main Shul four times a year to give a derasha in protest of the community keeping their custom of akdamut.
Although one may justify the practice, as R. Ephraim HaKohen did, based upon the notion this is an established custom, the ultimate question is why was this established in the Torah reading at all? In the journal Ve’Laket Yosef, an interesting explanation is offered. Akdamut is in Aramaic, and it was the custom to have a translator during the Torah reading. This translation was done into Aramaic. There are two rather estoric readings – the Torah reading of the first day of Shavuot and the haftorah of the second day of Shavuot. Perhaps, prior to attempting to translate these difficult readings, the translator offered a justification and request from the congregation to allow him to translate this. Akdamut was the translators introduction – thus as his first time he would translate would be after the first verse – his introduction, and akdamut is after the first verse.

Setting aside when one is supposed to say akdamut, who was R. Meir the author? R. Meir lived in Worms, but the custom in Worms was not to say akdamut. This is a bit strange as one would assume the author’s home town would say his piyyut. R. Yehuda Leib Kirchheim, one of the recorders of Worm’s custom and history, says that once someone read akdamut in a beautiful fashion, and with a tremendous amount of concentration and right after he finished – he died. Thus, they stopped saying akdamut in Worms. However, R. Kirchheim, argues that this can not be the reason akdamut is not said as this would only prove how great akdamut is, it would not justify not saying it (although one could argue that it is a great piyyut, but after the person died, in Worms, they couldn’t find anyone else to recite it).

There are all sorts of legends told about R. Meir. Although it is typically understood that R. Meir Shatz was a chazzan, there is another explanation to this name. There is a legend which has a priest challenging the Jews in Worms to a debate. This threw the Worms Jewish Community into a tizzy, they didn’t know what to do. R. Meir stood up and said someone should go to the other side of the sambatyon river. The rabbi responded, fine – you be the one to go. Well R. Meir went off, first to Israel to ask a kabbalist where the sambatyon river is and then on to the sambatyon. When he got there, sure enough, the river was impassable, except on Shabbos. Although he would have been prohibited from crossing the river on Shabbos, as he was doing so only to save the lives of those in Worms, he did so. He found someone to go back and defend the Worms community. But, R. Meir got stuck, as he no longer had a dispensation to cross the river – there was no longer any mortal danger as he had found someone, so he remained behind the sambatyon river. According to this legend, Sheliach Tzibor – or the community emissary is literal and not a chazzan.

It is unclear where R. Meir is buried, some say in Tiberius, others place him somewhere in Europe.

Sources:

R. Ephraim HaKohen, Sha’arei Ephraim, no. 10; Va’yelaket Yosef, no. 175 (1916); Landshuth, Amudei Avodah, pp. 164-65; Jacobson, Netiv Benah, vol. 4, pp. 99-105; R. Weinstock, Sheni Asar Shevtei Yisrael, pp. 70-77; Yuspah Shames, Minhagi Worms, vol. 1 ; Grossman, Hakmei Ashkenaz, 292-96; Frankel ed., Goldschmit Shavous Machzor, pp. 28-35; T. Rabinowitz, Iyunei Halacha, vol. 2 pp. 452-67; Hamburger, Gedolei haDoros ‘al Mishmar Minhag Ashkenaz, pp. 108-112.Also, see A. Habermann, Toldos HaPiyyut V’hashirah, vol. 2, p. 184 where he says that akdamut is in Aramaic as it is such a marvelous piyyut if it was in Hebrew (a language the angels can understand) the angels would be jealous. For further online sources see here, here and here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andreas Vesalius
De Humani Corporis Fabrica (1543)

Library of the University of Padua

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

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

Hebrew Anatomical Terms

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

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

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

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

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

Vesalius and the Jewish Medical Students of Padua

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ramḥal and the University of Padua

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

Matriculation Records of 1723

Moise Vita Luzzato di Giacob ebreo

Matriculation Records of 1725

Moise Vita Luzato di Giacob ebreo

Matriculation Records of 1726

Moise Vita Luzato di Giac ebreo

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

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

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

Valle is buried in the Jewish cemetery of Padua.

The Diploma Medallion

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

IV. Benvenisti Collection of Portraits of Physicians

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

1) Sabbato Vita Marini (1662-1748)

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

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

2) Samuele Medoro (1788-1854)

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

Conclusion

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

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

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

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

Seforim/Books related to the Graduates

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

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

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

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

• Paḥad Yitzḥak, the first halakhic encyclopedia, by Isaac Lampronti (Padua- 1696).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Congratulatory Poems for the Jewish Medical Graduates of Padua

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

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

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

1) David Loria

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

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

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

2) Salomon Lampronti[83]

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

3) Menahem Navarra[87]

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

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

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

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

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

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