The Recently Published Photographs of Rav Yisrael Salanter: Real or Imaginary?
The Recently Published Photographs of Rav Yisrael Salanter: Real or Imaginary?
By Shnayer Leiman
As early as 2006, and continuing through 2022, a flurry of photographs, purporting to bear the likeness of Rav Yisrael Salanter, have either appeared in print or have been posted on the Internet (see below, section II). While the publication of these photos certainly attests to his abiding influence well into the 21st century, their authenticity seems less than certain, and demands investigation. At the very least, one wonders why the likeness of a world renowned rabbi, who died in 1883, did not come to light until almost 125 years after his death![1]
I. The Early Evidence for What R. Yisrael Salanter Looked Like.
A proper discussion of what R. Yisrael actually looked like must begin with an examination of the testimony of his contemporaries who interacted with him and knew him best. The Torah teaches us (at Dt.19:15) that a matter can be established by two or three witnesses, so we shall present below the testimony of three witnesses who knew R. Yisrael personally.[2]
1. In 1899, Emil Benjamin, published the first biography of Rav Yisrael Salanter.[3] At the time, Benjamin served as a teacher of Jewish religion in Memel, Prussia, a port city on the Baltic Sea with some 1000 Jews (today: Kleipeda in Lithuania). Benjamin, a native of Memel, was a disciple of R. Zvi Hirsh Plato (1822-1910) who was a son-in law of R. Samson Raphael Hirsch. R. Plato served as Rav of the separatist Orthodox community of Cologne, and head of its Teacher’s Seminary, where Benjamin was trained as a teacher. Benjamin was a young man between 1857 and 1878, the very years that R. Yisrael Salanter spent many a year in Memel, which served as a base of operations for his various educational activities in Lithuania, Prussia, Germany, and France. R. Yisrael invited Benjamin to serve as his aid during a significant portion of those years, and Benjamin wisely accepted the invitation. Intimately involved in R. Yisrael’s daily affairs, Benjamin was in a unique position to record for posterity what it was like to be in his presence. Benjamin wrote:[4]
Rabbi Lipkin was of medium height, seemingly strong but lean in stature, and of ordinary build. His outward appearance immediately revealed a man of unusual significance. The broad forehead, the interesting character reflected by the shape of his head, the sharp look, all reflected the great thinker that he was. His countenance was almost always flush red, probably due to the struggle between body and spirit within him. Often he was lost in thought, and he seemed to forget everything around him, and appeared to be talking to himself. In spite of his deep seriousness, his conversation was often spiced with a pleasant sense of humor and whimsical thoughts…Curiously, this humble and unselfish man never consented to allow the features of his face to be painted by the artist’s brush and, thus, to be preserved for posterity. [Italics mine, sl]
2. Yaakov Mark (1856-1929) was a graduate of the Telz Yeshiva (in Telshe, Lithuania) who devoted a good portion of his life to training Jews (in a variety of languages) to master bookkeeping, so that they could gain and hold jobs in the various countries where they would ultimately find themselves.[5] He also devoted his later years to making literary contributions to Hebrew and Yiddish periodical literature. His only book, entitledגדולים פון אונזער צייט (New York, 1927),[6] is devoted to biographies of the key persons that he knew personally, such as R. Hayyim Soloveichik, the Malbim, and R. Yisrael Salanter. His opening line regarding R. Yisrael Salanter reads: “In my younger years, I often had the privilege of meeting with R. Yisrael. I heard his public lectures, his private lectures, and had the opportunity to observe him at close range.” In his book, he writes:[7]
All who encountered him when walking in the streets, whether Jew or Gentile, greeted him courteously. Even in the most crowded street of Berlin it was rare that a passerby would not stop to behold the great thinker, who used to wander about while engrossed in deep thought. All were impressed by his stately figure, his especially handsome beard, and his particularly character-full head with its unusually wide forehead, his red-white face, his blue eyes, with his sharp, yet good-natured look. This, despite the fact that he never wore official rabbinic garb but, rather, simple lay dress, with an ordinary hat on his head – not particularly elegant – but always clean and tidy. How sad that no photograph of him exists! It was simply impossible to get him to agree to sit for a painting or a photograph. [Italics mine, sl]
3. David Sidersky (circa 1858-1943), a grandson of R. Yisrael Salanter who edited אמרי בינה (Warsaw, 1878), the first ספר by R. Yisrael that was printed during his lifetime and that listed his name as the author, also published a biography of his grandfather in 1936-7.[8] Sidersky wrote as follows:[9]
R. Yisrael, under no circumstances, allowed himself to be photographed. Indeed, not a trace of his image exists. [Italics mine, sl] This, however, is what he looked like: he was of medium height, handsome, with glowing face. He had a full beard, with curls surrounding its edges. He spoke pleasantly, and always greeted everyone warmly.
If one reads the full biographical accounts of R. Yisrael Salanter by the three witnesses listed above, it becomes quite obvious that these are three independent accounts. Each records significant material about R. Yisrael Salanter that does not appear in the other accounts.[10] But there can be no question that Mark was influenced by Benjamin’s account, and that Sidersky was influenced by both Benjamin and Mark. The literary influence of the earlier accounts on the later accounts is obvious, even in the snippets translated above. Nonetheless, notice that only Benjamin mentions R. Yisrael’s sense of humor; only Mark refers to R. Yisrael’s blue eyes; and only Sidersky notes the curls that surrounded the edge of R. Yisrael’s full beard.
II. What Might R. Yisrael Salanter Not Have Looked Like?[11]
1. In 2006-2008, R. Shlomo Lorincz – a political leader of Agudat Yisrael during 1951-1984 and a חבר כנסת – published his classic work במחיצתם של גדולי התורה. In vol. 2, p. 14,[12] there appeared a striking photograph, with the name רבי ישראל סלנטר under it.
The photo appears to be that of a young R. Yisrael Salanter, perhaps 35- 45 years old. If so, the photo would have been taken between 1845 and 1855, at a time when the camera was mostly unknown and unavailable to the general public in Eastern Europe. One need not guess about the true identity of the person photographed. It is R. Yitzchak Lipkin (d. 1903), a son of R. Yisrael Salanter. Rav and Darshan, he was a distinguished תלמיד חכם who held several rabbinic posts in Lithuania before settling in Eretz Yisrael, where he died in his early 60’s.[13] Three photographs of him have been preserved by the Lipkin family. Aside from the early photo published by Lorincz, see below for two photos from a later period in his life:[14]
All that needs to concern us here is that R. Yitzchak Lipkin was R. Yisrael Salanter’s son, and not R. Yisrael Salanter himself. The photograph is a real picture of R. Yitzchak Lipkin, and an imaginary one of R. Yisrael Salanter. Not surprisingly, in later editions of במחיצתם של גדולי התורה , the misidentified photo was pulled. Thus, vol. 2, p. 14 now looks like this:[15]
2. On February 2, 2011, Jewish Currents magazine published the following tribute to R. Israel Salanter on his yahrzeit:
Not an ardent reader of Jewish Currents magazine (described by Wikipedia as a “a progressive, secular Jewish quarterly magazine and news site whose content reflects the politics of the Jewish left), I did not see this when it first appeared in print. It was brought to my attention later in 2011 by an East European Jewish historian about to publish an essay on R. Yisrael Salanter. She saw the tribute – and its photograph — on the Internet and was considering adding the photograph to her essay. She expressed surprise, since she had never seen a photograph of R. Yisrael Salanter. I immediately sent the following brief note to Jewish Currents magazine:
Thanks for remembering R. Israel Salanter on the day he died in 1883. Lest anyone be misled by the appended photograph, it clearly is a twentieth century photograph of someone other than R. Israel Salanter. In fact, it is a photograph of a Rumanian born rabbi (not a Litvak), Jacob Shachter, who was born after Salanter died. Shachter served with distinction as a rabbi in Manchester, England, then as rabbi in Belfast, Ireland. He died in Jerusalem in 1971.
Of course, I informed the East European scholar to cease and desist. Here I’ll add a bit more about Rabbi Shachter. He was a prolific author, whose publications included two very important works: a) A kind of Torah Shelemah on the Book of Proverbs, which gathers together all of Talmudic Commentary (Bavli and Yerushalmi) on the verses of Proverbs. It is entitled: ספר משלי בדברי חז“ל עם ביאור דברי יעקב (Jerusalem, 1963 and later editions), and b) The Student’s Guide Through the Talmud by Z. H. Chajes, translated, edited, and critically annotated by Jacob Shachter (London, 1952 and later editions). For our purposes, we need only to look at the title pages and frontispieces of two of his other publications, one in Hebrew and one on English: דברים לדוד (Jerusalem, 1966) and Ingathering: Collected Papers, Essays and Addresses (Jerusalem, 1966):
Clearly, the Shachter photo cannot pass for what R. Yisrael Salanter looked like. Even if we couldn’t identify the Shachter photo, a simple comparison of the beard in the photo with R. Yisrael Salanter’s beard as described by the testimony of eyewitnesses who knew him (“full beard, with curls surrounding its edges”) would have sufficed to disqualify the photo as a candidate for the actual likeness of R. Yisrael Salanter. In sum, the photograph is a real picture of R. Jacob Shachter, and an imaginary one of R. Yisrael Salanter.
3. On January 22, 2022, a YWN [Yeshiva World News] posting opened with a large imaginary photograph of R. Yisrael Salanter. It was, in fact, once again a photo of R. Jacob Shachter. To the credit of YWN, as soon as they were informed of the error the photograph was removed and replaced with a scan of the title page of R. Yitzchak Blaser’s classic anthology of R. Yisrael Salanter’s teaching, אור ישראל (Vilna, 1900).
4. In March of 2022, Rabbi Berel Wein’s Struggles, Challenges, and Tradition (Shaar Press) appeared in print. It is a magnificently produced volume, filled with vintage Rabbi Berel Wein wisdom. Alas, on p. 129 R. Jacob Shachter appears once again as R. Yisrael Salanter. One suspects that the culprit was an editorial assistant in charge of locating photos for the volume. Hopefully, the error will be corrected in the Second Impression.
We have listed 4 samples of misrepresentation of R. Yisrael Salanter. There are many more.[16] All one has to do is Google “Rabbi Israel Salanter.” One will see immediately many of the fake news photographs of R. Yisrael Salanter. And if you click on each one of the fakes, names like JewishHistory.org and Torah-Box.net will turn up. But it is neither history nor Torah, it is fake news. Sadly, once fake news is posted on the Internet, it multiplies even more rapidly than the Jews did in ancient Egypt. The Internet can be likened to the kind of sinner the Rabbis spoke about in b. Yoma 86b: כיון שעבר אדם עבירה ושנה בה…נעשו לו כהיתר “Once a person sins, and repeats the sin, he considers it permissible.” Indeed, once fake news is posted on the Internet, it is not merely considered possible news, it almost immediately becomes authoritative news. The only remedy, if there is one, is to never post in haste, and to post only after much review, including review by others. Moreover, any and all errors need to be corrected as quickly as possible on the very site where the posting first appeared.
Notes:
[1] None of the authors (listed below in section II) who posted photographs of R. Yisrael Salanter took the trouble to source, or verify the authenticity of, the photographs they posted. Methodologically, it is essential that any materials, whether manuscripts or photographs, published some 100 or more years after the death of the person they are ascribed to, or identified with, be verified. This is especially the case when a plethora of historical biographies and scholarly studies already exist on the key person involved – as is the case regarding R. Yisrael Salanter – and the existence of the posted photographs has eluded all of them. For the basic bibliography on R. Yisrael Salanter (through 1993), see Immanuel Etkes, Rabbi Israel Salanter and the Mussar Movement (Philadelphia, 1993), pp. 373-379; and Hillel Goldberg, Israel Salanter: Text, Structure, Idea (New York, 1982), pp. 309-329. Much more of significance has been published since then (e.g., ספר הזכרון קדוש ישראל (Bnei Brak. 2003); Hayyim Yitzchak Lipkin, ed., תורת רבי ישראל מסלנט (Jerusalem, 2003); and קדוש ישראל (Bnei Brak, 2014).
[2] Many other witnesses could have been adduced. See, for example, R. Baruch Epstein, מקור ברוך (Vilna, 1928), vol. 4, pp. 1800-1804, for a vivid account of a chance encounter with R. Yisrael Salanter in Vilna, 1879. Our purpose here is not to overwhelm the reader with sources. Rather, it is to gather the most persuasive sources, and not more than necessary.
[3] Rabbi Jsrael Lipkin Salant: Sein Leben und Wirken (Berlin, 1899).
[4] Op. cit., pp. 34-35. The German original reads: “Rabbi Lipkin war von mittelhoher, ziemlich kräftiger aber hagerer Natur und von regelmässigem Körperbau. Schon seine äussere Erscheinung liess sogleich einen Mann von ungewöhnlicher Bedeutung erkennen. Die mächtige Stirn, der interessante Charakter- kopf, der scharfe Blick verrieten den grossen Denker. Sein Antlitz war fast beständig gerötet, wohl infolge des aufgehobenen Gleichgewichts zwischen Körper und Geist. Oft war er derart in Gedanken versunken, dass er alles um sich herum zu vergessen schien und im Alleingespräch mit sich selber beschäftig war… Merkwürdiger Weise hat dieser bescheidene und selbstlose Mann niemals seine Einwilligung dazu gegeben, dass die Züge seines Antlitzes durch den Pinsel eines Malers nachgeahmt und der Nachwelt erhalten würden.”
[5] See Yaakov Mark’s entry in לעקסיקאן פון דער נייער יידישער ליטעראטור (New York, 1963), vol. 5, column 514.
[6] A much abridged, and freely translated, Hebrew version of Mark’s גדולים פון אונזער צייט appeared under the title במחיצתם של גדולי הדור (Jerusalem, 1958). An accurate English translation of the original Yiddish volume would make a significant contribution to Jewish scholarship and culture.
[7] גדולים פון אונזער צייט, pp. 88-89. The Yiddish original reads:
אלע וועלכע פלעגען איהם באגעגענען אויפ‘ן גאס, סיי אידען סיי גוים, האבען איהם
העפליכסט באגריסט. זאגאר אין די לעבהאפטסטע גאסן פון בערלין פלעגט זעלטען–
ווער איהם גלייכגילטיג פארבייגעהן און זיך ניט אפשטעלען באוואונדערן דעם
גרויסען דענקער, וואס פלעגט שטענדיג ארומגעהן פארזונקען אין געדאנקען
אימפאנירט האט אלעמען זיין שטאטליכע פיגור, זיין וואנדערבאר–שעהנעם הדרת
פנים, זיין אינטערעסאנטער כאראקטער–קאפ מיט‘ן גוואלדיגען ברייטען שטערן און
.וויס–רויטליכען פנים, זיינע בלויע אויגען מיט‘ן שארפען גוטמוטהיגען בליק
,טראצדעם וואס ער איז קיינמאל ניט געגאנגען אין אויפפאלענדע רבני‘שע קליידער
נאר אין פשוט‘ע בעל–הבית‘ישע, מיט א געוועהנליכער היטעל אויפ‘ן קאפ און אויך
,ניט באזונדערס עלעגאנט, נאר שטענדיג געווען ריין און זויבער. א גרויסער שאדען
וואס פון איהם איז קיין שום בילד ניט נאכגעבליבען. מען האט בשום–אופן ביי איהם
.ניט געקענט פועל‘ן זיך צו לאזען מאלען אדער פאטאגראפירען
[8] David Sidersky, ר‘ ישראל סאלאנטר ז“ל: תולדות חייו ופעולותיו“, היהודי (1936-7) 2:4,” pp. 57-60; 2:5, pp. 81-84; 2:6, pp. 112-114; 2:8, pp. 153-155.
[9] היהודי (1937) 2:8, p. 155. The Hebrew original reads:
.ר‘ ישראל לא רצה בשום אופן להצטלם ולא נשאר שום זכרון מדמות דיוקנו
וזה תבניתו: קומה בינונית, יפה תואר עם פנים מאירים, זקנו מגודל וקוצותיו
.תלתלים, שיחתו היתה בנעימות והיה מקבל תמיד את כל אדם בסבר פנים יפות
[10] Most notably, Sidersky’s account is the only one (of the three accounts) that lists the names of R. Yisrael’s (and his wife Esther’s) six children (four sons and two daughters): Malkah Hindah, Shmuel, Aryeh Leib, Hodah Libah, Yitzchak, and Yom Tov Lipman.
[11] The formulation of the question is a playful echo of the title of the essay by Shimon Steinmetz entitled “What Might R. Yisrael Salanter Have Looked Like?,” On the Main Line, March 2, 2010. That essay was part II of his previous essay entitled “What Did R. Yisrael Salanter Look Like?,” On the Main Line, March 23, 2006. Both essays are must reading for this topic.
[12] במחיצתם של גדולי התורה (Jerusalem, 2006-8), 2 vols.
[13] For important writings by, and about, R. Yitzchak Lipkin, see R. Hayyim Yehoshua Kosovsky, ed., חוט המשולש (Jerusalem, 1904); R. Yitzchak Lipkin, לוחות אבנים (Jerusalem, 1978); and “רשימות רבי יצחק ליפקין בן רבינו” in ספר הזכרון קדוש ישראל (Bnei Brak, 2003), pp. 97-100.
[14] Cf. the Steinmetz essays cited above, n. 11.
[15] במחיצתם של גדולי התורה (Jerusalem, 2010), fifth edition, vol . 2, p. 14.
[16] On September 24, 2020, an essay was posted on the Internet entitled “Eating by Example on Yom Kippur, an Epidemic Story.” It revisited the story of R. Yisrael Salanter’s response to the cholera epidemic in Vilna in 1848. Once again, a photo of Rabbi Jacob Shachter was prominently displayed as the likeness of R. Yisrael Salanter.
Response to Criticism, Part 3
Response to Criticism, Part 3
Marc B. Shapiro
Continued from here.
Let me continue with Rabbi Herschel Grossman’s review. [1] This post will complete my response to around a quarter of his review, so we still have a long way to go.
Grossman writes (p. 42)
According to Shapiro, “Maimonides would be surprised that . . . later generations of Jews . . . latched onto his earlier work;” and it “is certainly one of the great ironies of Jewish history that the Thirteen Principles became the standard by which orthodoxy was judged.” Finally, “the characteristic that gave them their afterlife . . . is precisely their outer form . . . Had Maimonides listed a different number of principles in the Mishneh Torah . . . these would have become the Principles of Judaism.” In other words, after postulating that Rambam innovated these obligatory beliefs, Shapiro concludes that it was the popular acceptance of these Principles that established halachic practice.
If you look at the quotations from my book that Grossman has cited, you can see ellipses. The problem here, and this would be unknown to the average reader who does not bother to see what I actually wrote, is that the complete sentences without the ellipses mean something very different than what Grossman wants the readers to think they say. Here is the complete first sentence that he cites (from p. 7 in my book): “Presumably, Maimonides would be surprised that in seeking to define the essentials of Judaism, later generations of Jews, both scholars and masses, had latched onto his earlier work rather than his more detailed formulation in the Mishneh Torah.” I think all readers will agree that the part of the sentence that Grossman quotes, with strategic ellipses, does not give the reader the true sense of the sentence. I can’t say whether this is a result of bad faith or careless writing.
Here is the complete second sentence that Grossman cites (from p. 15 in my book): “It is certainly one of the ironies of Jewish history that the Thirteen Principles became the standard by which orthodoxy was judged, for, as is well known, Maimonides himself was attacked for supposedly holding heretical views, at odds with his very own Principles.” Again, we see that by use of a strategic ellipsis, Grossman give the reader a false impression of what I wrote.
Here is the complete third selection that Grossman cites (from p. 14 in my book).
Returning to the Thirteen Principles, the characteristic that gave them their afterlife and caused them to become the formulation of the Jewish creed is precisely their outer form, that is, the fact that they were formulated as a catechism with all the Principles listed together. Had Maimonides listed a different number of Principles in the Mishneh Torah (e.g., twelve or fourteen), these would have become the principles of Judaism. But he did not, and thus the Thirteen Principles stuck.
In this case, the use of ellipses does not distort what I said.
Grossman states that I postulated that “Rambam innovated these obligatory beliefs.” We have already seen that this is complete nonsense. I never said that Maimonides invented the “obligatory beliefs,” as this would mean that before Maimonides there was no conception of traditional Jewish beliefs, which is a ridiculous notion.
In his final sentence, Grossman states that I concluded “that it was popular acceptance of these Principles that established halachic practice.” This is indeed my opinion, but I would also add that it obviously took time for the Principles to achieve widespread acceptance. Nothing I have said here is unusual or radical, and it is also opinion of many others who have written on the subject. Here, for example, is what R. Meir Orian writes in his book on the Rambam (published by Mossad ha-Rav Kook).[2]
ראינו כי בעצם ערר רבנו משה התנגדות בכל חיבור שכתב . . . גם קביעתם של שלשה עשר העיקרים של היהדות – שבמרוצת השנים נתקדשו בקדושת התורה והאומה – לא היתה לפי רוח גדולי הדור שבזמנו
There were other competing systems of dogma, but I state that none of them could compete with Maimonides’ formulation, both because of Maimonides’ supreme authority and also because popular piety prefers more dogmas to fewer. It is no accident that there are almost a hundred different poetic versions of the Principles, of which Yigdal is only the most famous. These are reflections of the popular attachment to the Principles, not to any rabbinic decision in favor of Maimonides. So if we conclude that the Principles establish halakhic practice, then yes, it was popular acceptance of these Principles that established the halakhic practice, much like popular acceptance and rejection of halakhic rulings throughout history has established halakhic practice.
Had the religious masses accepted an alternative formulation of Jewish dogma, then this would have become the standard. The rabbis can give rulings, but from talmudic times to the present it is the masses of religious Jews that determine if a halakhic ruling is accepted or not. Even with regard to the greatest poskim, you find that for some of their rulings the religious masses simply refused to accept them (perhaps because they found them too difficult and were already accustomed to do things in a different way, e.g., R. Moshe Feinstein and time clocks on Shabbat). I am not sure what Grossman’s problem is with the notion that popular acceptance can determine halakhic practice. Maybe he thinks that halakhah is only about the posek issuing a ruling. However, especially when speaking historically, we must also take into account that the religious masses (the “olam”) also have a crucial role to play in how halakhah develops.
This important notion is elaborated upon in the recent book by R. Ronen Neuwirth, The Narrow Halakhic Bridge, pp. 293ff. Here is one passage from R. Kook that R. Neuwirth quotes (from Eder he-Yekar, p. 39): “All of the mitzvot of the rabbis that we fulfill – their main foundation is the acceptance of ‘the entire nation’ which is the honor of the nation.”
Grossman, pp. 42-43, quotes the following sentence from my book (p. 17, mistakenly omitting a few words in his citation):
It seems that there is even halakhic significance to the Principles, as seen in the fact that R. Israel Meir Hakohen [Mishnah Berurah 126:2] records that one who denies the divinity of the Torah, reward and punishment, the future redemption, and the resurrection cannot serve as a prayer leader. Had Maimonides not included these Principles in his list, it is unlikely that denial of the last two, which are not necessarily of prime importance to a religious life, would disqualify one in this way.
Grossman writes:
Contrary to Shapiro’s hasty assumption, the Rambam is not the source for this Halacha. The source is the Talmud Yerushalmi, cited by the Tur [Orah Hayyim 126] as follows: “A prayer leader who skips two or three words does not have to go back to say them, except for one who does not mention ‘the Resurrection of the Dead,’ for perhaps he is a disbeliever [kofer] in the Resurrection of the Dead, and [the blessing] ‘Who rebuilds Jerusalem,’ for perhaps he does not believe in the Coming of the Mashiach.” Obviously, the ruling of the Mishnah Berurah is not an “invention” based on the Rambam.
Grossman’s translation is not exact as אין מחזירין אותו does not mean “does not have to go back”, and the translation also omits the words ומכניע זדים שמא מין הוא, but for our purposes this is not crucial.
The first thing to note is that I never said that the Mishnah Berurah’s source for his ruling is the Rambam’s Principles. What I said is that had the Rambam not included the Messianic era and Resurrection among his principles, denial of them would not have been enough to affect a Jew’s status (so that he couldn’t be a prayer leader, etc.). I will explain what I mean, as Grossman has once again completely misunderstood my point.
Let us take Resurrection, which is mentioned in the Mishnah as an obligatory belief. Nevertheless, the Rambam was suspected by both opponents and supporters as not really believing in it literally. In response to this suspicion, he wrote his famous Letter on Resurrection, which affirms the literalness of Resurrection and tells us that when he included it in his Principles he really meant it. Imagine if Maimonides, in his Letter on Resurrection, had not affirmed literal Resurrection, but instead defended the notion that it is to be understood metaphorically, as referring to the World to Come. Had that occurred, then the Rambam’s great authority would have ensured that belief in Resurrection would not be required.
My point is therefore simple: If the Rambam had declared that belief in Resurrection is not required, I do not believe that the Mishnah Berurah would have regarded this approach as heretical and thus invalidated a hazzan who held such a view, despite what other rishonim might have held. Similarly, had the Rambam not included the Messianic Era as a Principles of Faith, I do not believe that it would have been regarded as an obligatory belief, denial of which is heresy. It might have been a “recommended” belief, but not a generally accepted “obligatory” belief. In my opinion, this shows the great significance of the Rambam from both a theological and a halakhic perspective.
If you look at Jewish history, you will find that while many have asserted that certain beliefs are obligatory (e.g., gilgul, existence of demons, Divine Providence encompassing the animal kingdom, Daas Torah, R. Shimon Ben Yohai authored the Zohar, the Sages were infallible in matters of science), these beliefs have never become generally accepted to the extent that those who do not share them are regarded by the wider Orthodox world as outside the fold. Only Maimonides’s Principles were able to do such a thing. This explains what I mean when I say that had Maimonides not regarded the Messianic Era or Resurrection as obligatory beliefs, that “it is unlikely that denial” of them would have been enough to place the stamp of heresy on such a person, and thus to disqualify him from being a hazzan.
On p. 44 of his article, Grossman returns to the matter that I (and others) raised, that the Thirteen Principles are not mentioned in the Mishneh Torah. I also suggested that in his later works Maimonides was not attached to his earlier formulation of thirteen principles, as he presents a more detailed formulation of required beliefs in the Mishneh Torah.
In response to my point that one would have expected the Thirteen Principles to be listed in Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah, Grossman writes (p. 44)
Here, too, Shapiro indicates that he is unaware of the structure of the Mishneh Torah. The entire work is an expansion of the 613 Mitzvos: The entire work is introduced by Rambam’s Sefer haMitzvos which lists all 613 Mitzvos, and each of the sections (Halachos) has a listing of the Mitzvos included therein. Consequently, there is no place to highlight the Thirteen Principles in Hilchos Yesodey haTorah, since there are explicit Mitzvos for only three of them—emunah, yichud and avodah zarah, which he in fact does list in the introduction to this section. He could not have listed all the rest since they are not Mitzvos.
I reject this paragraph. There is a good deal in Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah that has nothing to do with “explicit Mitzvos.” For that matter, there is a good deal in the Mishneh Torah as a whole that is not related to “explicit Mitzvos.” In addition to what I mentioned in my last post, one can also add the last two chapters of Hilkhot Melakhim, which are about the messianic era and have nothing to do with mitzvot. The Rambam included these chapters because he felt that this material is important, and he did not limit himself in the Mishneh Torah to only matters that derive from ‘explicit Mitzvos”. Therefore, there is nothing about the “structure of the Mishneh Torah” that would have prevented him from listing the Thirteen Principles as a unit in Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah or elsewhere. In fact, most of the Principles are already listed in Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah, but just not together as a unit (which was my point), which shows that he had no problem listing them even though “they are not Mitzvos.”[3]
As for my wondering why the Principles are not listed together as a unit, which Grossman sees as an illustration of how I am unaware of the structure of the Mishneh Torah, let me begin by repeating what I wrote in my last post: R. Yaakov Nissan Rosenthal, on the very first page of his commentary Mishnat Yaakov to Sefer ha-Madda, also wonders about the point I made, that the Thirteen Principles as a unit are never mentioned in the Mishneh Torah. (Had I known this when I wrote my book, I certainly would have cited it.)[4]
ותימא למה לא הביא הרמב“ם בספרו ה”יד החזקה” את הענין הזה של י“ג עיקרי האמונה, וצ”ע
R. Avraham Menahem Hochman writes:[5]
. . .מאחר וכל כך חמורה הכפירה, וגדולה החובה לדעת את י”ג העיקרים, כיצד זה השמיטם מספרו ה”יד החזקה”, ולא כתבם כפי שסדרם בפירוש המשנה
והנה אחר שהתבאר שהאמונה בי”ג העיקרים היא בסיס לתורה נשוב לשאלה הרביעית (בסוף פרק ה’) אשר לכאורה היא פליאה עצומה מדוע השמיט הרמב”ם ביד החזקה את החובה הגדולה להאמין בי”ג עיקרים, באופן חיובי, ולא סדרם כי”ג יסודי האמונה שחובה להאמין בהם
R. Hochman goes on to explain that most of the Principles are indeed mentioned in Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torahin a positive sense (even if not as a unit of Thirteen Principles). He also notes the following important point, that when principles of faith are mentioned in the Talmud, they are never listed in a positive sense, that one must believe X. Rather, they are listed in a negative sense, that one who denies X has no share in the World to Come. Why Maimonides, in his Commentary on the Mishnah, chose to formulate the Principles in a positive sense and require active belief as a necessity for all Jews—something the Talmud never explicitly required—is an interesting point which we will come back to. Regarding some of the Principles the difference is clear. For example, according to the Talmud, denial of Resurrection is heresy, but one who has never heard of the Resurrection and thus does not deny it, or affirm it, is a Jew in good standing. For Maimonides, however, the doctrine of Resurrection must be positively affirmed. In a future post we can come back to which Principles even the Talmud implicitly requires positive affirmation of (obviously number 1, belief in God, but there could be others as well).
Even when it comes to other basic ideas of Maimonides, which are not included as part of the Thirteen Principles, we find that scholars wondered why Maimonides did not include them in Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah. For example, R. Joseph Ibn Caspi writes:[6]
.הנה תמהתי על כבודו בספרי המכונה ספר הסוד, כי [אם] כן עשה הוא דעת תורתנו ויסוד הדת למה לא מנה זה בהלכות יסוד [!] התורה בתחלת מנותו היסודות
With regard to the Thirteen Principles themselves, in R. Jacob Yitzhaki’s popular Sephardic Mahzor Oholei Yaakov: Rosh ha-Shanah, p. 59b, he states:
.ובאמת גם הרמב”ם ז”ל לא זכר מהעיקרים הללו לא בספרו הגדול משנה תורה ולא בס’ המורה שחבר אחריו בזקנותו. ואם היה עודנו מחזיק בם היה לו להזכירם בס’ המדע והמורה, כי שם מקומם, ורק נזכרו בפי’ המשנה שחבר בבחרותו כידוע
R. Yitzhaki agrees with my point that it is significant that the Thirteen Principles as a unit are not mentioned in the Mishneh Torah(or in the Guide of the Perplexed; he is obviously aware that the individual principles appear in various places in the Mishneh Torah). His words, ואם היה עודנו מחזיק בם היה לו להזכירם, show that he, too, is not certain that the notion of Thirteen Principles was still something the Rambam held to when he wrote the Mishneh Torahand Guide of the Perplexed. Grossman can reject R. Yitzhaki’s point the same way he rejects what I wrote, but readers can see that what we have written is not something completely ignorant, as Grossman would have people believe.
On pp. 44-45, in response to my suggestion that in his later years the Rambam did not feel bound to the Thirteen Principles as the ultimate summation of Judaism, Grossman refers to a passage in the Rambam’s Letter on Resurrection. Here the Rambam mentions that in his commentary to Sanhedrin he expounded on fundamentals of Judaism, and he mentions that he did likewise in the Introduction to the Mishnah and the Mishneh Torah. I myself refer to this source in Limits, p. 6, as one of the few times the Rambam mentions the Principles subsequent to his the Commentary on the Mishnah. This does not change the fact that the Rambam does not refer to the Principles as a unit in the Mishneh Torah or the Guide, and the understanding of Judaism found in these latter works is not always the same as what we see in the Principles. I would assume that it is in the Rambam’s later, and indeed greater, works that we should look in order to identify his final statements on matters of Jewish belief.
The real problem is that again, Grossman simply does not understand what I am saying. He concludes this section of his criticisms by stating that, “Clearly the Rambam has not retracted his opinion that there are Principles, or roots – lacking belief in which, one is missing the fundamentals of Judaism.” Of course, I never said that in his later years the Rambam did not believe that there are Principles of Judaism. Even if we never had his Thirteen Principles, you can look at the Mishneh Torah and see that there are beliefs that if you deny them, you are missing the fundamentals of Judaism. My point about the Rambam not being tied to the Thirteen Principles has nothing to do with this. It thus makes no sense for Grossman, p. 46, to write that in the Guide the Rambam refers to the fundamentals of faith, and then to cite chapters from this work that require belief in God’s incorporeality, as if this has anything to do with what we are talking about. Let us not forget that it was the Rambam who chose thirteen principles.[7] He did not find this in the Torah or in the Talmud. When you examine the Mishneh Torah you see that he could just as easily have chosen fourteen principles, or even more (and later writers indeed added additional principles).
There is no need to belabor this any longer, but let me call attention to an error Grossman makes on pp. 46-47. He states that R. Joseph Albo refers to the Guide of the Perplexed “in explicating Rambam’s Principles.” He then cites Albo’s Sefer ha-Ikarim 1:3: “And why did he not include the dogma of creation, which everyone professing a divine law is obliged to believe, as Maimonides himself explains in the twenty-fifth chapter of the second part of the Guide of the Perplexed?” This is not an example of Albo using the Guide to explicate the Rambam’s Principles. In this chapter of Sefer ha-Ikarim, Albo asks why the Rambam does not include creation as one of the Thirteen Principles. He cites the Guide not to explicate the Principles but to show that the Rambam regarded creation as an essential doctrine, and therefore it should have appeared in the Principles. (Albo was unaware that later in life the Rambam added to the Fourth Principle the belief in creation ex nihilo.)
One point that Grossman is adamant about is that it is improper to suggest that the Rambam changed his mind when it comes to the Principles. That is because, Grossman states, the Rambam revised his Commentary on the Mishnah throughout his life, so if he did not change what he wrote in the Principles, it is “an indisputable indication” (p. 46) that it remained his opinion. The reader of Grossman’s essay will not realize that it is not a major point of my book to argue that the Rambam changed his mind about his formulations in the Principles. What I do suggest is that the Thirteen Principles as a unit is not his final statement of dogma, because he does not mention it in the Mishneh Torah or the Guide, and in those works you find other doctrines that are regarded as principles of faith which are not included in the Thirteen Principles. Furthermore, as we shall see in future posts, the Rambam has different emphases and even outright contradictions to the Thirteen Principles in his later works, so we are left with assuming that either he changed his mind or that his formulations in the Thirteen Principles were intended for a certain audience, but did not represent his true view, which would only later be revealed in the Guide – and perhaps even in the Mishneh Torah – to the spiritual and intellectual elites. I will deal with this in greater detail in a future installment of my response to Grossman. For now I just want to note that the approach that he regards as ignorant as well as apparently blasphemous, that the Rambam changed his views about certain matters in the Principles, is not unknown even among rabbinic figures.
In Limits, p. 148, I noted that R. Meir Don Plotzki claimed that while in the Twelfth Principle the Rambam requires that the Messiah be descended from Solomon, he does not mention this in the Mishneh Torah. For R. Plotzki, this shows that the Rambam retracted his earlier view (even though he never corrected what he wrote about this principle in the Commentary on the Mishnah).[8] This again illustrates the problem with so many of Grossman’s criticisms of me. He points to things I wrote that he thinks are absurd and ignorant, but what happens when I show that great rabbinic figures have said the same thing? Obviously, Grossman would not criticize them in the same way. Is this an example of the old “they could say it but you can’t”?
R. Eliyahu Meir Feivelson notes that in the Sefer ha-Mitzvot, Positive Commandment, no. 4, the Rambam includes as part of “fear of God,” fear of punishment. However, when he describes this mitzvah in the Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah2:1-2, there is no mention of fear of punishment, only what is called יראת הרוממות. R. Feivelson writes[9]:
ויש להעיר עוד, שאולי יותר נכון לומר בדעת הרמב”ם, שהוא חזר בו מדבריו בספר המצוות, ולכן בספר משנה תורה נקט את יראת הרוממות. ורגליים לדבר, שהרי בהקדמתו לפרק חלק מנה הרמב”ם את האמונה בשכר ועונש, וכאחד מי”ג עיקרי אמונה. ואילו בהלכות תשובה (פ”ג הל, ו’-ח’) מנה את כל עיקרי האמונה פעם נוספת (ותחת זה מנה שם את האמונה בתורה שבכתב ושבע”פ לשני עיקרים), ולא הזכיר שם את האמונה בשכר ועונש, ושמא זה מוכיח על שינוי דעתו בענין זה
R. Feivelson mentions that in the Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Teshuvah3:6-8, when the Rambam lists the different types of heretical beliefs, there is nothing about Reward and Punishment. He therefore suggests that the Rambam changed his mind and no longer regarded this as a Principle.
If Grossman would read R. Feivelson like he reads me, he would protest that it is outrageous to suggest that the Rambam stopped believing in, or requiring belief in, Reward and Punishment. But this would be a mistake. R. Feivelson knows full well that Reward and Punishment is an important Jewish belief. He also knows that Hilkhot Teshuvah, chapter 8, is all about Reward and Punishment. All he is suggesting is that the Rambam ceased to regard this as one of the Principles of Judaism, denial of which is heresy, and which everyone must also positively affirm to be regarded as part of the Jewish community. Or perhaps he only means to say that the Rambam removed Reward and Punishment from the Principles so people would not focus on this as a motivation to observe of the Torah. If R. Feivelson is correct, then Reward and Punishment is no different than other true beliefs which the Rambam didn’t see fit to include in the Thirteen Principles.[10]
R. Feivelson’s basic idea, that the Rambam changed his mind about including Reward and Punishment as one of the Principles, was actually earlier suggested by R. Solomon of Chelm in his classic commentary Mirkevet ha-Mishneh, Hilkhot Teshuvah3:8:
(. . .וזה מכוון נגד י”ג עיקרים שבפירוש המשנה אלא שבחדא יש חזרה, ושם מונה שכר ועונש, וכאן בחיבורו השמיטו (לפי דמצוה לעבוד שלא ע”מ לקבל פרס מאהבה
Let me turn to one other place where it is possible that the Rambam changed his mind in a matter of dogma. There are a number of discussions of the Rambam’s view of the Messiah, and it is typically stated that he believes that the Messiah will be a prophet. Since R. Alter Hilewitz was recently mentioned in the Seforim Blog here, let me cite him.[11]
שהמלך המשיח בעצמו יהיה נביא, ולא סתם נביא, אלא נביא יותר גדול מכל הנביאים פרט למשה
That the Messiah will be a prophet is often stated as part of the dogma of belief in the Messiah, yet there is nothing in the Twelfth Principle about the Messiah being a prophet. Why then do so many assume that this is part of the Rambam’s Principle? I think the answer is because in the Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Teshuvah 9:2, the Rambam states that the Messiah will be a great prophet, close to the level of Moses. He also mentions this in his Letter to Yemen.[12]
As mentioned, there is nothing in the Twelfth Principle about the Messiah being a prophet. Does this mean that the Rambam changed his mind? I don’t think we can say for sure. Yet it is noteworthy that in the Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Melakhim, ch. 11, when the Rambam speaks about the Messiah, he also does not mention anything about the Messiah being a prophet. In fact, in Hilkhot Melakhim 11:3 he tells us that R. Akiva thought that Bar Kokhba was the Messiah. Since Bar Kokhba was not a prophet, this is a proof that the Messiah does not need to be a prophet. Another relevant point is that in Hilkhot Melakhim 12:3 the Rambam speaks of the Messiah as having ruah ha-kodesh, which is a lower level than prophecy. Thus, it appears clear that according to Hilkhot Melakhim the Messiah will not be a prophet, or at least does not need to be a prophet.[13]
How to explain the fact that in Hilkhot Teshuvah the Rambam says that the Messiah will be a great prophet, while in Hilkhot Melakhim he does not mention this at all, and he refers to Bar Kokhba, thus showing that the Messiah does not need to be a prophet? R. Joseph Kafih states that the Rambam changed his mind on this matter. When writing his Letter to Yemen and Hilkhot Teshuvah the Rambam thought that the Messiah needed to be a prophet, however, his later position is reflected in Hilkhot Melakhim.[14] R. Kafih makes this claim even though there is no evidence that the Rambam ever altered what he wrote in Hilkhot Teshuvah. My point in mentioning this is not to claim that R. Kafih is correct in his assumption, only to show, in opposition to Grossman, that great commentators have indeed been prepared to state that the Rambam changed his mind, even if we have no evidence that he later corrected his earlier works.[15]
Regarding prophecy, R. Shlomo Aviner cites R. Kook that Adam was a greater prophet than Moses. I found this formulation noteworthy, as it contradicts Maimonides’ principle that Moses was the greatest prophet. In response to my question, R. Aviner replied to me that Adam is not to be included in regular history, and was thus not the among the prophets Maimonides was referring to.[16]
אדם הראשון הוא מחוץ לחשבון ההסטורי הרגיל ולפניו, ושורש כל בני האדם
R. Aviner cited as his source Orot ha-Kodesh, vol. 1, p. 280, which refers toזיהרא עילאה דאדה”ר. In fact, I found a more apt source in Shemonah Kevatzim3:66, where R. Kook puts the matter very clearly:
זיהרא עילאה דאדם הראשון היא כוללת מדה עליונה זו העולה עד למעלה מהאספקלריא המאירה של נבואת משה רבנו
The concept of Adam’s זיהרא עילאה is found throughout kabbalistic literature (which also states that Enoch would later receive this זיהרא עליאה). I had never understood it as also including prophecy, as opposed to simply greatness, but after investigating the matter I do not think that R. Kook is saying anything out of the ordinary by excluding Adam from the Rambam’s Principle. I think that this is also the sense you get from R. Hayyim of Volozhin when he discusses Adam.[17] In Nefesh ha-Hayyim 1:20, he also stresses the greatness of the Messiah, and he cites a rabbinic text that the Messiah will surpass Abraham, Moses, and Adam.[18] R. Hayyim adds that he will only surpass Adam after the Sin, but not before.
Regarding Adam before the Sin, R. Solomon Elyashiv writes:[19]
השגת אדה”ר קודם החטא שהשיג אז את כל האצילות הנה היה במדרגת האצילות של אז שהיה גבוה ונעלה מאד . . . כי מציאת אדה”ר שקודם הטא היה למעלה לגמרי מכל חק סוג אנושי אשר מאחר החטא ולהלאה
R. Isaiah Horowitz discusses Adam from a kabbalistic perspective on a few occasions. In Shenei Luhot ha-Berit[20], sectionToldot Adam: Beit Yisrael (p. 9a in the first printing, Amsterdam 1749; no. 104 in the newer printings), he writes:
והנה אדם עולה במספר קטן ט’ כי אדם לא בא בסוד יחידה מצד כתר המעלה העליונה עשירית, וזהו “אדם אחד מאלף לא מצאתי” א”ל [אל תקרי] אֶלֶף בסגול אלא אַלף שהיה חסר
This is exactly how the text appears in the first printing including the vowels. R. Horowitz cites Ecclesiastes 7:28, however the verse actually states: אדם אחד מאלף מצאתי. Only later in the verse does it say: ואשה מכל אלה לא מצאתי. It seems clear that this is simply a mistake and that R. Horowitz was citing from memory.[21] We find the same verse misquoted later in the Shelah, where the derash seems to be clearly based on the mistake:[22]
חותמו של הקב”ה אמת רומז על אה”יה אשר אהיה כי אהיה פעמי’ אה”יה עולה כמנין אמת. אדם הוא מעשר אמת כי ד”ם מעשר מ”ת ומהאלף לא שייך מעשר וזה רמז אדם אחד מאלף לא מצאתי כלומר אחד מאלף לא נמצא מעשר
This is all quite strange as using Otzar ha-Chochma I found two other places in the Shelah where the verse is cited correctly.[23]
Regarding Moses’ prophetic level, in Limits, p. 89, I cited authorities who understand Midrash Tanhuma’s statement that the Messiah will be “more exalted than Moses” to mean that he would be a greater prophet than Moses. Subsequent to the book’s publication, I found that the Lubavitcher Rebbe also leaves this as a possibility,[24] for in his Sefer Sihot: 5751, vol. 2, p. 789, he writes:
ובתנחומא (ס”פ תולדות) משמע שהוא נביא גדול ממשה – ראה לקו”ש ח”ו עמ’ 254 – ועצ”ע
Here is one additional point which is I think of interest. Although Judah David Eisenstein was not a religious authority, he was an Orthodox Jew and his works became quite popular in Orthodox homes.[25] It is noteworthy, therefore, that in his Otzar Dinim u-Minhagim, p. 325, he writes as follows, completely rejecting the Rambam’s system of dogma:
ואיך יעלה על הדעת לומר כי היהודי שאינו מאמין בלבו באיזה מן הי”ג עקרים חוץ מאמונת ה’ לבדו כי הוא יוצא מכלל ישראל. בפרט כי דת ישראל לא נוסדה על מחשבות ורעיונות רק על המעשה, מצות עשה ומצות לא תעשה, והיהודי המקיים כל המצוות הוא בודאי יהודי כשר אע”פ שאינו מאמין בלבו ברוב העקרים שמנה הרמב”ם
He then suggests that the Rambam retracted his understanding of ikkarim.
ונראה כי גם הרמב”ם חזר מעקריו אלה שכתב בערבית לפירוש המשניות, כי בספרו היד החזקה שכתב בעברית להלכה למשה [למעשה] הורה בגר שבא להתגייר, מודיעין אותו עקרי הדת שהוא ייחוד השם ואיסור ע”ז, ומאריכין בדבר הזה, ומודיעין אותו מקצת מצות קלות ומקצת מצות חמורות ואין מאריכין בדבר זה
Notice how Eisenstein requires belief in God, without which one is not part of Israel. But this takes us back to the question of what actually is belief in God. For the Rambam, someone who believes in a corporeal God is not really believing in God at all, and is thus a heretic, while Rabad disagrees. In Limits and in subsequent writings I have cited a number of authorities who agree with Rabad, which shows that the Rambam’s’ approach in this matter was not universally accepted. While it is true that Rabad and the others I cite believe that God is incorporeal, they do not accept that one who errs in this matter is to be regarded as a heretic, which is a major break with the Rambam as it means that denial of one of the Principles does not equal heresy.[26]
Here is another source that we can add to the list. The Hasidic master R. Meir Horowitz of Zhikov states that one who has a defect in his belief in God – which I assume can also include believing in God’s corporeality – but is part of a Hasidic community and accepts a rebbe, is not to be regarded as wicked. This is because by being devoted to the rebbe he will eventually be brought to a proper belief in God. What he is saying, if I am interpreting him correctly, is that you can have members of the Orthodox community whose beliefs might be incorrect, even heretical, but they should not be regarded as wicked because their very belonging to the community and acceptance of its rabbinic leadership is itself significant. I don’t know how many would agree with R. Meir, but what he says is quite fascinating.[27]
וכמו כן יש בנמצא בני אדם אשר יש להם חסרון באמונת הבורא כביכול, ועם כל זה יש להם אמונת צדיקים, ומקבלים עול הצדיק על עצמם . . . וגם אנשים כאלו אינם בכלל רשעים, יען כי על ידי אמונת צדיקים בודאי יבוא אחר כך לאמונת הבורא, כי על ידי התקשרות לצדיק במשך הזמן יזכה גם לאמונה גמורה. וכמו שפירשו בספרים הלואי אותי עזבו ואת תורתי שמרו היינו לשמור מה שהתורה מרבה בתיבת את ד’ א-להיך לרבות תלמידי חכמים
Finally, let me call attention to another unconventional view of R. Michael Abraham. R. Abraham states that since it impossible to force people to believe, the Thirteen Principles of Faith of the Rambam must be understood as only a suggestion which people are free to reject, not an obligation, as only behavior can be legislated, but not thought.[28]
באופן מהותי אי אפשר לצוות על אנשים להאמין דווקא בדבר מסוים. אתה יכול לצוות על אנשים שיתנהגו באופן מסוים, אבל אי אפשר להכתיב להם מה לחשוב, וגם איך תדע שהם חושבים אחרת מכפי שצוו. אז גם 13 עיקרי האמונה של הרמב”ם הם לא הלכה, אלא הצעה של הרמב”ם, ובהחלט אפשר גם לחשוב אחרת.
* * * * * * * *
[1] Regarding Grossman’s review, it is apt to cite the words of R. Yissachar Tamar, Alei Tamar, Shabbat, p. 6 (referred to by R. Neriah Guttel, Or Yekarot [Elkana, 2016], p. 290):
ומכאן אזהרה חמורה למבקרי ספרים שיעיינו הדק היטב עד שחורצים משפטם על ערך הספר וחשיבותו
In a future post I hope to also discuss another critique of my book, that of Seth Kadish. While I have argued that the Thirteen Principles reflect a conservative approach sometimes at odds with Maimonides’ other works, Kadish, in his very interesting and significant article, offers an alternative, I would even say revisionist, perspective. Here is some of what appears in the summary at the beginning of the article.
Such an attitude assumes that Maimonides’ famous list of the “thirteen foundations of the Torah” reflects a conservative stance (regardless of his wider agenda). This paper argues, to the contrary, that his dogma is best read in context as a natural reflection of radical formulations found in his pre-Guide rabbinic writings. It further argues that the great Iberian critics of Maimonidean dogma understood it in exactly this way and rejected it as such, offering meaningful alternatives in its place. They designed their alternative systems to reflect their views about the nature and substance of the Torah, not just to address the semantics of dogma.
Seth (Avi) Kadish, “Jewish Dogma after Maimonides: Semantics or Substance,” Hebrew Union College Annual 85 (2015), pp. 195-263.
[2] Ha-Moreh le-Dorot (Jerusalem, 1956), p. 92 (emphasis added).
[3] See R. Isaac Abarbanel, Rosh Amanah, ch. 19; Menachem Kellner, Dogma in Medieval Jewish Thought (Oxford, 1986) p. 228 n. 60; R. Dovid Yitzhaki’s essay in R. Jacob Emden, Luah Eresh (Toronto, 2001), p. 466. R. Yehezkel Sarne, Beit Yehezkel: Hiddushim u-Veurim be-Inyanim Shonim (Jerusalem, 1995), p. 242, has an interesting perspective:
.יסודי התורה אינו ענין לעיקרי התורה או עיקרי האמונה שהרי לא כלל הרמב”ם כאן כל העיקרים שאם אינו מאמין בהם נעשה כופר על ידן. אלא יסודי התורה היינו שהתורה עומדת עליהם ומי שאין לו היסודות גם תורה אין לו
Earlier in this note, I refer to R. Emden’s work לוח ארש. This is sometimes written as Luah Eres, yet this is a mistake. The second word is Eresh, as in the word ארשת (see Ps. 21:3) which has the connotation of “speech”. This is explained by R. Dovid Yitzhaki in his edition of Luah Eresh (referred to above), p. 3 n. 1 (second pagination).
In Shaharit of Yom Kippur, we recite the piyyut אדר יקר, the first line of which reads: אחוה בְּאֶרֶשׁ מלולי.
R. Aaron Samuel Katz’s commentary on Midrash Rabbah has the title Kore me-Rosh(Berdichev, 1811). It is divided into two sections, one of which is called ארש רבה. This is obviously a play on ארץ רבה (Ps. 110:6), and ארש also contains letters from the names אהרן שמואל.
Sephardic melitzah often uses the word ארש, such as in the expression ותשקוט הארש (sometimes written as האר’ש). Its meaning is that all speech or utterance should cease, that is, there is no need for any more discussion or argument about the issue. Another melitzah is באתי אל הארש (a play on Deut. 26:3), which means “this is what I have to say”.
There is also a melitzah ארש קדם (a play on Gen. 25:6) which means “words of introduction”.
Here is the beginning of R. David Pipano’s Avnei ha-Efod, vol. 1 (Sofia, 1913).
On pp. 24a and 171a R. Pipano uses another melitzah that I love, and which you can occasionally find in other Sephardic works: ובחפשון יצאתי (a play on Deut. 16:3). This means that he searched in rabbinic literature.
The title of R. Emden’s book, לוח ארש, is a play on לוח ארז that appears in Song of Songs 8:9. In the Bible, ארז is vocalized אׇרֶז as it comes at the end of a sentence. Does that mean that seforim with the title לוח ארז should also be vocalized Arez, and לוח ארש should be Aresh? The answer is no, because when we cite the title we are not quoting a biblical verse. Similarly, with R. Isser Zalman Meltzer’s book אבן האזל, just because in I Sam. 20:19 we read האבן הַאׇזֶל does not mean that when citing the name of the book, where it is not the end of a sentence, that we should write Even ha-Azel. Rather, the title is Even ha-Ezel. (The information in this paragraph has been confirmed with R. Dovid Yitzchaki.)
[4] Regarding R. Rosenthal, I think it is noteworthy that he held that at least in certain cases, such as with women who are unable to get married, it is permissible for single women to be artificially inseminated, and he ruled this way in practice. See R. Yehudah Berakhah, Birkat Yehudah, vol. 7, p. 267. R. Aharon Lichtenstein also held this position. See R. Shmuel David, “Teshuvot Ba’al Peh shel ha-Rav Aharon Lichtenstein,” Tzohar 40 (2016), p. 32:
?שאלה: רווקה מבוגרת, כבת 41, מבקשת היתר לקבל תרומת זרע מגוי כדי לזכות להיות אם, האם ניתן להתיר לה
תשובה: אנחנו איננו ששים למצב שילד יגדל בלא אב, אך אי אפשר לראות את דמעתה ולחשות, ולכן כיוון שאין כאן איסור, הרי שמותר לה לקבל תרומת זרע מגוי, ורופא יזריק אותו, כמו שעושים לזוג נשוי
I believe that this is now the accepted position in the Modern Orthodox world, for the simple reason that strictly speaking there is no halakhic prohibition. In the haredi world, rabbis often forbid things for communal reasons, even though there is no real halakhic prohibition. But these types of rulings do not carry as much weight in the Modern Orthodox community.
It is also of note that before the creation of the State of Israel, R. Rosenthal went on the Temple Mount, as there was a tradition where it is permissible to go. However, he agreed that in contemporary times this should not be allowed. See the interview with his student, R. Shlomo Amar, here.
[5] Ha-Emunah ve-Yud Gimmel Ikareha (Jerusalem, 2005), pp. 84, 103-104.
[6]Amudei Kesef u-Maskiyot Kesef (Frankfurt, 1848), p. 113. See also ibid., p. 101:
למה לא מנה זה הדעת בהלכות יסודי התורה עם הייחוס בא-ל
[7] See R. Shimshon Dovid Pincus, Nefesh Shimsohn: Be-Inyanei Emunah (Jerusalem, 2005), p. 99:
הרמב”ם היה הראשון שמנה את י”ג העיקרים . . . מה הרמב”ם חיפש כשהוא יסד את אותם “עיקרים”, ובכלל מה הם “עיקרים”? . . . הרמב”ם פסק את י”ג העיקרים להלכה, וכנראה שקבלנו את שיטתו
[8] Hemdat Yisrael (Petrokov, 1927), vol. 1, p. 14a (final numbering; in Limits I referred to this as p. 14b, as it is found on the second column). Interestingly, on the very next page, p. 14b, R. Plotzki writes:
בשיעור שלמדתי בישיבת ר’ יצחק אלחנן ז”ל בפה ניויארק יום ב’ ט”ז תמוז באספת כל גדולי מורי הישיבה והרבה מגדולי הרבנים בנויארק
This shiur at Yeshivat R. Yitzchak Elchonon took place in 1926, during a fundraising visit to the United States.
[9] Va-Yavinu be-Mikra: Va-Yikra, p. 175 (emphasis added).
[10] Regarding R. Feivelson, see the recent news report here about how two young men from the extremist Peleg group took out a knife and threatened R. Feivelson that he stop giving shiurim or else suffer the consequences. In a future post, I hope to discuss why there has been strong opposition in some quarters to R. Feivelson’s approach.
[11] “Yemot ha-Mashiah be-Mishnato shel ha-Rambam,” Sinai 41 (1957), p. 17.
[12] Iggerot ha-Rambam, ed. Shilat, vol. 1, p. 106 (Arabic), pp. 154-155 (Hebrew). This is in line with the Rambam’s Seventh Principle which states that other prophets cannot reach Moses’ level of prophecy. In Limits, ch. 6, I discuss those who disagreed with this principle. I subsequently found what seems to be another example of disagreement with the Rambam in this matter. In speaking of the prophets in the Messianic era, R. David Kimhi, commentary to Joel 3:1, writes:
וכן יהיו בהם [הנביאים] מעלות זה למעלה מזה כמו שהיו בנביאים שעברו עד שאולי יקים בהם כמשה רבינו ע“ה
In his final words he offers the possibility that future prophets will be as great as Moses.
[13] R. Hananel Sari writes as follows with reference to Maimonides’ description of the Messiah in Hilkhot Melakhim:
כאן המלך המשיח נמדד רק במידת הצלחתו להקים מחדש את הממלכה לפי חוקי התורה. כלומר, מבחן התוצאה בעניין זה בלבד, ואינו צריך להיות נביא, ובוודאי שאינו צריך להיות נביא גדול!
“Tekufatenu vi-Yemot ha-Mashiah be-Mishnat ha-Rav Kafih,” Masorah le-Yosef 7 (2012), p. 97.
[14] Commentary to Hilkhot Teshuvah, p. 650 n. 21. See also R. Kafih’s note to his edition of Iggerot ha-Rambam, p. 50 n. 26.
[15] Regarding Maimonides not correcting the Mishneh Torah to bring all of the halakhot in line, see my Studies in Maimonides and His Interpreters, pp. 6, 68 n. 275.
[16] See my Iggerot Malkhei Rabbanan, no. 120. Copies of this work are available here.
[17] Nefesh ha-Hayyim 2:17, 4:28.
[18] The rabbinic text R. Hayyim refers to is a Midrash, but he was apparently citing from memory, as the Midrash does not mention anything about Adam but instead mentions Abraham, Moses, and the angels. This Midrash is usually quoted from Midrash Tanhuma, ed. Buber, vol. 1, p. 70a, but this edition was not yet published in R. Hayyim’s lifetime, so he would have known the Midrash from Yalkut Shimoni, Zechariah, no. 571.
[19] Leshem Shevo ve-Ahlamah: Sefer ha-Deah (Petrokov, 1912), vol. 1, p. 85b. Following this passage, on the same page, R. Elyashiv says something noteworthy (and difficult to accept). He cites the following from Shemot Rabbah 41:6:
Another explanation of And He gave unto Moses (Ex. 31:18). R. Abbahu said: All the forty days that Moses was on high, he kept on forgetting the Torah he learned. He then said: “Lord of the Universe, I have spent forty days, yet I know nothing,” What did God do? At the end of the forty days, He gave him the Torah as a gift, for it says, And He gave unto Moses. Could then Moses have learned the whole Torah? Of the Torah it says: The measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea (Job 9:9): could then Moses have learned it all in forty days? No, but it was the principles (kelalim) thereof which God taught Moses.
R. Elyashiv believes that the entire text just cited was stated by R. Abbahu, but it appears to me that the words beginning “Could then Moses have learned” were not said by R. Abbahu. Be that as it may, R. Elyashiv has a difficulty with the midrashic statement, which he attributes to R. Abbahu, that Moses was only taught the principles of the Torah, as this contradicts other aggadic statements that Moses was taught all the details as well. He therefore concludes that R. Abbahu did not really believe what he said, but his statement was only directed towards the heretics, whom he would sometimes dispute (see Avodah Zarah4a).
I find this quite difficult, since if his statement was directed towards the heretics, why does it appear in the Midrash without any such indication. This is quite apart from what many will regard as a more fundamental difficulty, namely, the assertion that a sage’s words in a classic rabbinic text are to be understood as a false statement designed to merely “shut up” the heretics. Here is what R. Elyashiv writes:
אך העיקר נראה לי כי ר’ אבהו לא אמר זה אלא כנגד המינין כי הוא היה רגיל להתווכח עם המינין. וכמ”ש בעבו”ז דף ד’ ע”א. וכדי שלא ליתן פתחון פה למינים להעיז נגד קבלת חז”ל אמר כמה דברים גם מה שהוא נגד דעתו, ע”ד שאמרו חולין כ”ז ב’ לאויבי דחיתי בקש. וע”ד ששינוי [!] הע”ב זקנים כמה דברים בתורה בהעתקתם לתלמי המלך כמ”ש במגילה ט’ ע”א . . . וכן הוא בענינינו כי מה שאמר ר’ אבהו בשמו”ר פ’ מ”א סי’ ו’ הנז’ שלא למדה משה רק כללים לא אמר זה אלא כנגד המינים וכדי לסכור את פיהם אבל הוא עצמו ודאי סובר ככל המאמרים הנז’ שלמד הקב”ה למשה כל דקדוקי תורה ודקדוקי סופרים
In Changing the Immutable, ch. 8, I discuss some who make the same claim as R. Elyashiv regarding other texts. Recently, I found that R. Judah Leib Landesberg also makes this point. In his Hikrei Lev (Satmar, 1905), vol. 1, p. 57, he discusses R. Judah’s statement in Sanhedrin 92b that Ezekiel’s vision of the Dry Bones coming to life was not something that happened in reality, but was only a parable (mashal). R. Landesberg cannot accept that R. Judah really meant this. He assumes that the point of his statement was polemical, and directed against the early Christians who spoke about the resurrection of Jesus and were strengthened in their false belief by the story of the resurrection of the Dry Bones.
מפני הוראת שעה ופריצת הדור החדש אשר על יסוד זה חפץ לבנות בנין שקר וכזב, מותר לומר שכל התחיה בימי יחזקאל היה “רק משל”, למען לא תתגבר ותתחזק האמונה הבדויה, שחנוך והתלוי קמו חיים ועלו השמים
On p. 66, he adopts the same approach regarding R. Hillel’s statement in Sanhedrin 99a: “There shall be no Messiah for Israel, because they have already enjoyed him in the days of Hezekiah.” As R. Landesberg sees it, R. Hillel did not believe what he said, but his statement was directed against those Jews who were being influenced by the followers of Jesus who claimed that the Messiah had arrived. R. Hillel was telling these people that Jesus could not be the Messiah, as there will be no Messiah since the prophecies were already fulfilled in the days of Hezekiah. According to R. Landesberg, R. Hillel’s false statement was justified as a “hora’at sha’ah”, an emergency measure to save Jewish souls from going astray. He also identifies R. Hillel with the Nasi Hillel II, and suggests that the Roman government required him to make the statement that there would be no Messiah.
ולא לבד העכו”ם גם רבים מהיהודים מתנצרים וטענותם והתנצלותם הי’ “כי משיח כבר בא” ע”כ היה הנשיא הילל מוכרח במעשה מטעם הממשלה, ומפני “הוראת שעה” לפרסם בישראל שלא יאמינו ברע ולא יבטחו בו ובשלוחיו, וחלילה להאמין כי הוא המשיח המקוה לישראל ע”כ גזר ואמר “אין משיח לישראל”! ונבואת ישעי’ כבר נתמלאה בימי חזקיה
[20] See R. Herschel Schachter, Divrei ha-Rav, p. 184, in the name of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, that the practice developed of calling this work the Shelah ha-Kadosh rather than its actual title, Shenei Luhot ha-Berit, because people thought that Shenei Luhot ha-Berit as a title was a bit “over the top”.
[21] See Eliezer Zweifel in Ha-Karmel, March 13, 1866, p. 249.
[22] P. 178b in the first printing. In more recent printings see section Masekhet Pesahim, no. 524.
[23] First printing, p. 348b, in more recent printings see section Bamidbar, no. 27; first printing, p. 409b, in more recent printings see section Torah she-Be’al Peh, no. 384.
[24] See the discussion of the Rebbe’s words by Aharon Meir Felder in Tamim be-Hukekha (Brooklyn, 2008), pp. 26ff.
[25] Regarding Eisenstein, see Robert L. Samuels, “The Life and Work of Judah David Eisenstein as Reflected Primarily in His Memoirs” (unpublished masters dissertation, Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, 1960), available here.
R. Binyamin Lau, Mi-Maran ad Maran (Tel Aviv, 2005), pp. 137ff., discusses R. Ovadiah Yosef’s attitude towards Eisenstein’s Hebrew encyclopedia, Otzar Yisrael. He first notes that in a responsum about the permissibility of using the secular calendar, R. Ovadiah cites Otzar Yisraelas a source that the secular year is not to be traced to Jesus’ birth, since he was actually born before the beginning of the Common Era. See Yabia Omer, vol. 3, Yoreh Deah, no. 9. R. Lau notes that R. Ovadiah is not consistent in how he relates to this encyclopedia. In R. Ovadiah’s responsum dealing with the halakhic status of the Ethiopian Jews, he refers to R. Eliezer Waldenberg’s reliance on Otzar Yisrael to demonstrate that they are not descended from Jews, and harshly attacks R. Waldenberg for relying on this work “which contains some matters of heresy.” Yabia Omer, vol. 8, Even ha-Ezer, no. 11:3.
R. Lau is content to note the inconsistency without probing further if perhaps this can be explained as R. Ovadiah delegitimizingOtzar Yisraelbecause it stood in opposition to his halakhic conclusion that the Ethiopians are Jewish. It appears likely that the delegitimization was ad hoc polemical rather than substantive, and thus able to be used when R. Ovadiah felt warranted. For another negative comment about Otzar Yisrael, see Yalkut Yosef, Orah Hayyim 131, p. 415.
In 1993, R. Hayyim Kanievsky’s notes to Eisenstein’s Otzar Midrashim were published. I received a copy of the pamphlet from David Farkas, who informs me that it was included with the recent reprint of Otzar Midrashim, obviously in order to make the book more “kosher”. It is interesting to examine what R. Kanievsky states should be deleted from Otzar Midrashim, as it is not merely references to academic scholars but also phrases that most will see as quite innocuous. Even Eisenstein’s comment that some scholars regard Eldad ha-Dani as a charlatan is to be deleted (R. Kanievsky’s note to p. 19), perhaps because this would reflect poorly on the rabbis who were taken in by him. (Shimon Steinmetz suggests that the reason is actually the reverse, that including this information would reflect poorly on those who were skeptical of Eldad.)
R. Kanievsky also says to delete any references to non-Jewish influence on these so-called Midrashim. To give one example, Eisenstein, p. 251, writes as follows about the medieval Midrash known as Sefer ha-Yashar:
.כנראה נתחבר ספר הישר במאה התשיעית או העשירית בזמן הגאונים. המקורים שמהם שאב המחבר הם מדרשות חז”ל ספר יוסיפון, והגדות הערביים
R. Kanievsky says to delete the words והגדות הערביים. I don’t understand why R. Kanievsky feels this way. I could just as easily imagine a great Torah scholar going through Eisenstein’s book and showing the problems with many of these Midrashim, precisely because of the questionable material in them, which would explain why they were never “accepted”. Even with regard to Sefer Zerubavel (Otzar Midrashim, pp. 158ff.), which is a seventh-century apocalypse that has no religious authority in traditional Judaism and is full of strange passages, R. Kanievsky objects to Eisenstein’s historical comments. Again, I don’t see why R. Kanievsky sees this as a religious imperative when dealing with such a work as Sefer Zerubavel, and am frankly surprised that he did not recommend deleting this entire “Midrash,” as he did with other “Midrashim” included by Eisenstein that he did not regard as authentic (see his notes to pp. 371, 372, and see also his notes to pp. 35, 400, where he expresses doubt that these “Midrashim” are from the Sages). Regarding Sefer Zerubavel, see David Berger, Cultures in Collision and Conversation(Boston, 2011), pp. 268ff.
Also of interest is the following passage from Otzar Midrashim, p. 583, about Midrash Tanhuma. I have underlined the word that R. Kanievsky said to remove:
.אמנם הוא [ר’ תנחומא] לא מחבר המדרש הזה ולא מסדרו, רק הבאים אחריו קבצו רוב דרשותיו וספחו אליהם דרשות מבעלי אגדה זולתו, וקראוהו על שמו מפני שהיה דרשן מצוין בזמנו
I do not know why R. Kanievsky was bothered by Eisenstein declaring that R. Tanhuma was a great darshan. Is it because this might imply that other sages were not such great darshanim? But how is this any different than saying, for example, that R. Akiva was a great Torah scholar, a statement that no one would object to?
Finally, R. Kanievsky (notes to p. 214) appears to be defending the so-called letter of R. Yohanan Ben Zakai. This is an obvious forgery, and according to Moshe Hillel was written in Poland in the eighteenth century. See Hillel, Megilot Cochin (Jerusalem, 2018), pp. 259ff. See also pp. 190ff., where Hillel discusses other scholars’ views about the matter
[26] Regarding the Rambam and Rabad, there is a very strange passage in R. Isaac of Komarno, Shulhan ha-Tahor, 167:3. I shudder to think what a Lithuanian rosh yeshiva would say if you mentioned to him the explanation offered for Rabad’s words.
אבל המצוה שיהיה מלח על השולחן ובפרט מי שהוא משורש קין יזהר מאד, מרן האר”י, ובזה תבין דברי הרמב”ם [הל’ חמץ ומצה ח, לח] שפסק לאכול מצה בחרוסת, הוא הטעם כיון שיש לפניו דבר שהוא משובח מן המלח מחוייב לאכול פרוסת הבציעה בדבר שמשובח כיון שעומד לפניו הכרח שיטבול בו את הבציעה המצה כי חרוסת שלהם הי’ מפירות יקרים הרבה מוטעם ביותר וכתב עליו הראב”ד זה הבל ותמהו עליו למה לו לההביל את הדבר שהוא מוזכר אצל הגאונים הראשונים עיין שם, אבל באמת כוונת רבינו רוח הקודש שלו הי’ זה הבל מי ששורשו הבל א”צ למלח ודי בלפתן אבל מי שהוא משורש קין בהכרח שיטבל במלח ולא בחרוסת והוא ענין נפלא
R. Nahum Abraham writes that it is forbidden to print this explanation, as it is so bizarre. See Darkhei ha-Ma’amarim, p. 13 (first pagination).
[27] Imrei Noam (Brooklyn, 2003), vol. 1, p. 225 (to Ex. 4:8-9). See Mendel Piekarz, Ha-Hanhagah ha-Hasidit (Jerusalem, 1999), p. 37.
[28] See here.
S.Y. Agnon’s Forgotten Purim Parody
S.Y. Agnon’s Forgotten Purim Parody
A humorous tale published by the teenage S.Y. Agnon, using the penname “Mazal Tov,” appeared in a Purim supplement to a Kraków newspaper in 1908 but was not later included in his collected works — translated for the first time from Hebrew by Jeffrey Saks.
“Those Who Err All Their Days, and One Man Who Erred Not At All”—A Tale in Honor of Purim
They were both mistaken in a matter of halakhah.
Such is the way of the world: shrewd men commonly have ugly wives, while the wives of fools are fair. When the husband looked at his wife and saw how repulsive a creature she was—how ugly her countenance, how displeasing her face—he said in his heart: this proves that there is no wiser man in the world than I. And when his wife looked at him and saw what a fool he was, she supposed that there was none more lovely than herself. Through error they raised daughters instead of sons, and in error they married off one of those daughters.
They imagined that the young man they had chosen for her was truly a great gem, the like of which does not exist: a prodigious scholar, God‑fearing, and possessed of many other virtues. But they looked into it and soon found that he had nothing in this world but his folly. He read heretical books, burying his head in them all day long, and his heresy preceded his fear of Heaven. Not only this, but he was a coarse and lustful fellow—may the Merciful One save us—running after temptation and indulging in crass talk. And they found proof for their estimation when they saw erotic poetry falling from his lap.
When they realized this, it would have better suited them had he never been born rather than see what had come of him. He could forgo a few drops of his blood, but not these drops of ink with which his poems had been written. How beautiful this poem was in his eyes! How excellent it was! How he delighted in it! Each time he recited it he sounded the rhymes into his own ears with real feeling:
Oy! Oy! Oy! Hadassah!
So beautiful, so very fair.
My love for you has not ceased,
Entangled in the thicket’s snare.
Great is my love for you,
Hadassah—forever and a day.
For your sake even my lawfully married wife,
I shall divorce at once and without delay…
The words were still upon his lips when his wife flung herself upon him. All ten of her fingernails were sunk into him, raking the skin of his face. She struck him, and a voice burst forth from her throat, crying: “Just who do you say you’ll divorce? Take care lest I ‘divorce’ your soul from your body, you sinful scoundrel! Who is this whose heart drives him to chase foreign women? First I’ll bash in your skull—and the skull of your beauty as well!” Nor did her fury subside until she seized the page on which the poem was written, bundled it together with his pile of other papers lying before her, tore them to bits, and treated them with every manner of disgrace.
In vain did the husband seek to argue in his own defense: that he never chased after women, that he had no connection whatsoever with another, and that it was not his intention—God forbid—to divorce his wife. Rather, this poem spoke of none other than Queen Esther—she who is called Hadassah.
He then began telling her how much labor he had invested in this work, and how he had nearly completed a stage-play for the Yiddish theater, in which the beautiful tale would be told: how a certain man fell in love with Esther before King Ahasuerus had taken her to wife, but she, in her modesty, paid the man no heed. On account of his great heartbreak the man cast himself into the sea, where a great fish happened by and swallowed him whole. And for the banquet that King Ahasuerus made on the day he married Esther, fishermen hooked this great fish and hauled it up. As King Ahasuerus sat with his new queen, making merry together, a dish full of fish was set before them. When Esther stabbed her fork into one of them, a heavenly voice rang out, and a man leapt forth—the very man who had drowned himself in the sea because Esther had not yielded to him. A scandal ensued, and here began those fine and fascinating matters.
In the end, the poet’s wife was appeased. When she saw that her husband was innocent, she regretted her earlier deeds. She had been a fool, and she had erred in thinking that this Hadassah over whom her husband strayed in thought was an actual woman of flesh and blood.
But the husband could not be consoled. It pained him to see his hard work go down the drain. Had he produced his play for the Yiddish stage, his renown would have gone out into the world and his name would have been sung in praise. This, indeed, is a matter in which there is no error…
—Mazal Tov
Afterword by Jeffrey Saks
Shmuel Yosef Czaczkes (1887–1970)—later, Nobel laureate S.Y. Agnon—began his literary career in the newspapers of his native Galicia. Starting in 1904, dozens of short stories, poems, and even brief journalistic reports on events in his town of Buczacz flowed from his adolescent pen in Yiddish and Hebrew. Agnon signed his writings under various literary names: “One of the Townsmen,” “A Galician,” “A Zionist,” at times with initials: Sh. Y. Cz., or—as in the story presented here—“Mazal Tov.” Almost none of these writings were later anthologized in editions of Agnon’s collected works. The mature author apparently regarded them as “unripe fruit” and did not attempt to refine or restore them in his later writings.
This story appeared in the Kraków Hebrew newspaper, HaMitzpeh (March 13, 1908), pp. 4–5, in a special Purim parody supplement playfully titled HaChutzpah. It bears several features characteristic of Purim‑spiel literature: the element of turn-about and reversal, double identity and mistaken recognition, and fish (of the Pisces season at that time of year)—here in a variation upon the Book of Jonah and the well‑known Talmudic legend of “Joseph Who Honors the Sabbath” (Shabbat 119a). This early tale also shows Agnon’s penchant for intertextuality, weaving in allusions to the biblical and rabbinic texts. In keeping with the Purim genre, there is also a light whiff of provocation—bold, playful, and faintly erotic. Is Hadassah the husband’s lover? Or is Hadassah in fact his fictional stand-in for the biblical Queen Esther?
Beyond the glimpse it affords of the raw talent of a tyro artist, the significance of this story lies in the fact that it was the last to be published while Agnon still dwelled in Europe. A few weeks after Purim 1908, the young Galician Czaczkes left his land, his birthplace, and his town, and set sail upon the heart of the seas on his way to become “Agnon” in the Land of Israel.
Rabbi Jeffrey Saks, Director of ATID and its WebYeshiva.org program, is Director of Research at Agnon House in Jerusalem and editor of the journal Tradition.
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| S.Y. Agnon, né Czaczkes, around 1908. | Purim supplement to HaMitzpeh newspaper (Kraków, March 13, 1908): Agnon’s story begins at bottom. |
The Haftarot of the Sabbaths of Hanukkah and the Haftarah of the Sabbath of Rosh Ḥodesh Tevet
The Haftarot of the Sabbaths of Hanukkah and the Haftarah of the Sabbath of Rosh Ḥodesh Tevet[1]
by: Eli Duker
In the Babylonian Talmud (Megillah 31a) it is stated that the haftarah for the Sabbath of Hanukkah is from “the lamps of Zechariah,” and if Hanukkah coincides with two Sabbaths, the haftarah for the first Shabbat is from “the lamps of Zechariah” and the haftarah for the second Shabbat is from “the lamps of Solomon.”
Rashi there explains that “the lamps of Zechariah” refers to the haftarah beginning: “Sing and rejoice” (Zechariah 2:14), and that “the lamps of Solomon” refers to the haftarah beginning: “Hiram made” (I Kings 7:40). This explanation is also found in Seder Rav Amram Gaon, and this is the practice in most communities to this day.[2]
We find another custom in Tractate Soferim (20:8) with regard to the Torah reading and haftarah for the Sabbath of Hanukkah:
ובשבת שבתוכו קורא ויהי ביום כלות משה, עד כן עשה את המנורה, וכן ביום השמיני, עד וזה מעשה המנורה, ומפטיר ותשלם כל המלאכה.
Thus, according to Tractate Soferim, the haftarah for the Sabbath of Hanukkah begins: “When all the work was completed” (I Kings 7:51), which addresses the dedication of the First Temple. It is somewhat puzzling that the haftarah begins precisely there and not a few verses earlier, which would have included the “lamps of Solomon,” a fitting verse for Hanukkah. It is possible that since Tractate Soferim generally reflects the practices of Eretz Yisrael, and the miracle of the cruse of oil is a Babylonian tradition, they saw no need to refer to the making of the menorah. Yet, we see that according to this ruling they nevertheless read in the Torah up to the account of the making of the menorah, even though according to the Mishnah only the passages of the nesi’im are read — indicating that there is a desire to allude to the miracle of the cruse of oil.[3] One can suggest that since the menorah was already mentioned there, they did not see a need to allude to it again in the haftarah.
Tractate Soferim does not mention a Torah reading or haftarah for the second Sabbath of Hanukkah. Concerning Rosh Ḥodesh Tevet that falls on a Sabbath, it is stated there (20:12):
דר’ יצחק סחורה שאל את ר’ יצחק נפחא, ראש חדש טבת שחל להיות בשבת במה קורין, בעניין כלות, ומפטיר בשל שבת וראש חדש.
The “haftarah for Sabbath and Rosh Ḥodesh” refers to what is stated elsewhere in Tractate Soferim (17:9):
ובזמן שחל ר”ח להיות בשבת השמיני שצריך לקרות וביום השבת ובראשי חדשיכם הוא מפטיר (יחזקאל מ״ו:א׳) בכה אמר [ה”א] שער החצר הפנימית הפונה קדים.
In Pesikta Rabbati[4] there are homilies on no fewer than three haftarot for the Sabbaths of Hanukkah: “Elijah took twelve stones” (I Kings 18:31), “When all the work was completed” (I Kings 7:51, similar to the haftarah in Tractate Soferim), and: “It will be at that time that I will search Jerusalem with lamps” (Zephaniah 1:12). Each of these sections in the Pesikta begins with a halakhic question relating to Hanukkah.
In Piska “Elijah took” (4) we find:
ילמדנו רבינו: ראש חודש שחל להיות בחנוכה, הואיל שאין תפילות המוספין בחנוכה, מי שהוא מתפלל תפילת המוספין מהו שיהא צריך להזכיר של חנוכה? למדונו רבותינו אמר רבי סימון בשם רבי יהושע: ראש חודש שחל להיות בחנוכה אף ע”פ שאין מוסף בחנוכה אלא בר”ח, צריך להזכיר של חנוכה בתפילת המוספים. שבת שחלה להיות בחנוכה אע”פ שאין מוסף בחנוכה אלא שבת, צריך להזכיר של חנוכה בתפילת המוספין. והיכן הוא מזכיר? בהודאה.
It is noteworthy that the question is formulated primarily with regard to the Musaf of Rosh Ḥodesh during Hanukkah, even though it obviously applies equally to the Musaf of the Sabbath of Hanukkah, as reflected in the answer. Rabbi Meir Ish Shalom already noted in his commentary in his edition of Pesikta Rabbati[5] that it is reasonable to assume this is the haftarah for the Sabbath of Rosh Ḥodesh Tevet. The connection between this haftarah and Rosh Ḥodesh likely lies in what appears later in the same passage in the Pesikta:
אתה מוצא שנים עשר חודש בשנה, שנים עשר מזלות ברקיע, שתים עשרה שעות ליום ,ושתים עשרה שעות לילה. אמר הקדוש ברוך הוא: אפילו העליונים והתחתונים לא בראתי אלא בזכות השבטים שכך כתב “את כל אלה ידי עשתה” (ישעיה סו:ב), בזכות כל אלה שבטי ישראל שנים עשר (בראשית מט:כח) (לכך שנים עשר מזלות, שתים עשרה שעות). לכך כיון שבא אליהו לקרב את ישראל תחת כנפי השכינה נטל שתים עשרה אבנים למספר השבטים ובנה אותן מזבח. מניין? ממה שהשלים בנביא “ויקח אליהו שתים עשרה אבנים למספר שבטי בני יעקב”.
In Piska “It will be at that time” (8) we find:
ילמדנו רבינו: מהו שידליק אדם נר שישתמש בו מן הנר של חנוכה? תלמוד, למדונו רבותינו א”ר אחא בשם רב (אמר) אסור להדליק נר שישתמש בו מנר של חנוכה, אבל נר של חנוכה מותר להדליק מנר של חנוכה.
In Piska “When all the work was completed” (6) we find:
ילמדנו רבינו: נר של חנוכה שהותיר שמן מהו צריך לעשות לו…
It is therefore possible to suggest that in Pesikta Rabbati there is Zephaniah 1:12 for the first Sabbath of Hanukkah that is not Rosh Ḥodesh, and I Kings 7:40 for the second Sabbath of Hanukkah. In addition, there is I Kings 18:31 as a haftarah for a Hanukkah Sabbath that is also Rosh Ḥodesh. This is an appropriate haftarah for this time due to description of the victory over the prophets of Baal—which parallels the Hasmonean victory over the Greek kingdom—and the recurring motif of twelve, which is appropriate for Rosh Ḥodesh.
By contrast, all other sources from Eretz Yisrael (Tractate Soferim and the piyyutim mentioned below) point to I Kings 7:51 as the sole haftarah for the Sabbath of Hanukkah, read not only when there are two Sabbaths of Hanukkah. Moreover, in the Pesikta, the Piska of “When all the work was completed” immediately follows “It was on the day that Moses finished,” which is the Torah reading for a regular Sabbath of Hanukkah (or at least when Shabbat falls on the first day of Hanukkah).[6] For this reason, B. Elitzur claims[7] that “When all the work was completed” was read specifically on the first Sabbath of Hanukkah, and “It was on the day” was read on the second Sabbath. It should be noted that the Piska “It was on the day” is adjacent to the Piska “The one who brought his offering on the first day,” not to the Piska “On the eighth day” (to which the section “And Elijah took” is adjacent).[8]
In the Kedushta piyyut of Yannai[9] for the Sabbath of Hanukkah, the verse “When all the work was completed” appears as the first verse in the chain of verses in the meshalesh, indicating that this was the haftarah. Likewise, this verse also appears in the Meḥayyeh of the Kedushta piyyut of Rabbi Yeshuah son of Rabbi Joseph.[10] There is nothing in these piyyutim to indicate they were composed specifically for the second Sabbath of Hanukkah.[11] In light of all these sources—which mention only a single haftarah for the Sabbaths of Hanukkah (despite the approximately five-hundred-year gap between Yannai and Rabbi Yeshuah)[12]—the customs reflected in Pesikta Rabbati were likely very rare in both time and place.
In a comprehensive study of Rabbi Eleazar ha-Kalir’s Kedushta piyyutim for Hanukkah, A. Mintz-Manor identifies no fewer than five potential haftarot for the first Sabbath of Hanukkah. In the piyyut “Adir Kenitzav,” the Kalir cites the verses “When all the work was completed,” as well as “Solomon built the House and finished it” (I Kings 6:14), and “Thus said Hashem: Behold, I will restore the fortune of the Jacob’s tents” (Jeremiah 30:18).
In the piyyut “Meluḥatzim Me’od Bera,” “Behold, I will restore” also appears, as well as “I will search Jerusalem” (which appears as a haftarah in Pesikta Rabbati), and another potential haftarah: “Solomon brought the peace offering” (I Kings 8:63).
In the piyyut “Otot Shelosha” for a Sabbath that is both Hanukkah and Rosh Ḥodesh, both the verses “The gate of the inner court” and “When all the work was completed” appear, indicating that in his time there was no uniform custom in Eretz Yisrael for this Sabbath, with some reading the Rosh Ḥodesh haftarah and others reading the Hanukkah haftarah. Yet, the fact that the verse from the haftarah of Rosh Ḥodesh appears first may indicate that that was the preferred haftarah.
In the piyyut “Menashe Ve’et Efraim,” written for the second Sabbath of Hanukkah, the haftarah is “On the eighth day he sent the people off” (I Kings 8:66). It is possible that this is the same haftarah that appears in “Meluḥatzim Me’od Bera,” with a few earlier verses added.
Summary of Haftarot
| Haftarah | Source(s) |
|---|---|
| I Kings 7:51 | Tractate Soferim; piyyutim of Yannai, Kalir, Rabbi Yeshuah; Pesikta Rabbati |
| Zephaniah 1:12 | Piyyutim of Kalir; Pesikta Rabbati |
| Jeremiah 30:18 | Piyyutim of Kalir |
| I Kings 8:63 | Piyyutim of Kalir |
| I Kings 6:14 | Piyyut of Kalir |
A Geniza fragment[13] records both customs with regard to Rosh Ḥodesh Tevet (and Adar and Nisan) that fall on a Sabbath. According to the custom in Eretz Yisrael, two Torah scrolls are taken out. The passage for Hanukkah is read first, and then that of Rosh Ḥodesh. According to the Babylonian custom, where the weekly portion is read as well, that is read first, followed by Rosh Ḥodesh and Hanukkah. According to both customs, the haftarah there is for Hanukkah.[14]
From all the above, we see multiple differing customs regarding the Sabbath of Rosh Ḥodesh Tevet:
- Haftarah of Rosh Ḥodesh – Tractate Soferim; one mention in Kalir.
- Haftarah of Hanukkah – one mention in Kalir; a Geniza fragment.
- A special haftarah – Pesikta Rabbati.
We find in the Geonic literature that the haftarah of Hanukkah is read, as stated in a responsum of Yehudai Gaon:
תוב שאילו מן קמיה: הקורא בתורה בראש חדש חנוכה ושבת בשל ראש חדש מפטיר או בשל חנוכה? ואמר בשל חנוכה.
There is a similar statement in Halakhot Pesukot[15] and the Siddur of Rav Amram Gaon.[16]
In Early Ashkenaz, where the Hanukkah haftarot followed those in the Talmud Bavli, there existed differing customs concerning the haftarah for a Sabbath of Hanukkah that coincided with Rosh Ḥodesh. In the Siddur of Rashi (321) we find:
ואם חל ראש חודש טבת להיות בשבת, התדיר קודם. מוציאין שלש תורות, וקורין ששה בעניינו של יום, והשביעי ובראשי חדשיכם, ומפטיר קורא בחנוכה ובנבואת זכריה [רני ושמחי], והשמים כסאי בטלה, דהא לא קרי מפטיר בראש חדש דלימא הפטרה דיליה. ובמס’ סופרים גרסינן שמפטירין בשל ראש חדש, אבל לא נהגו העם כן: ושמעתי שנחלקו במגנצא שני גדולי הדור ר’ יצחק בר’ יהודה ור’ שמואל בר’ דוד הלוי, ר’ יצחק ציווה להפטיר ברני ושמחי, ור’ שמואל העיד מפי אביו שאמר לו שמפטירין בשל ראש חדש וקיימו את עדותו, וכמדומה שחולקין כן בראש חדש אדר שחל להיות בשבת, ואנן נוהגין [להפטיר] ביהוידע.
From this passage it emerges that although Tractate Soferim states that the haftarah should be that of Rosh Ḥodesh, this was not the common practice. Rashi records that in Mainz two leading sages of the generation disagreed: Rabbi Yitzḥak bar Yehudah ruled to read beginning from Zechariah 2:14, whereas Rabbi Samuel bar David ha-Levi testified in the name of his father that the haftarah should be that of a standard Rosh Ḥodesh on the Sabbath, and his testimony was accepted. Rashi adds that a similar disagreement seems to have existed regarding Rosh Ḥodesh Adar that falls on a Sabbath, concerning which he records that the practice was to read “Yehoyada.”
This material appears as well, with slight variations, in Sefer ha-Pardes.[17]
It is recorded in Ma‘asei ha-Geonim:
ואילו תשובות שהשיב רבי’ ר’ משלם בר’ משה ממגנצא לאחי לר’ נחומי’. וששאלת ר”ח טבת שחל להיות בשבת במה מפטירין? יש מבני קהלינו שאומרים שמפטירים ברני ושמחי ויש מהם שאומרים שמפטירין בהשמים כסאי ואבאר טעמם של אלו וטעמם של אלו מיושר על המחיקה אותן שאומרין להפטיר בנירות של יהוידע[18] אומרים כן היא המדה לעולם שבאותו עיניין שהמפטיר קורא באותו עיניין (ש)צריך להפטיר הוי קורא בשל חנוכה. ואם נפשך לומר יקרא בשל ר”ח ויפטיר בשל ר”ח, אינה היא המידה שהרי תדיר ושאינו תדיר תדיר קוד’. וטעמם שאומרי’ להפטיר בשל ר”ח או’ ר”ח דאורייתא וחנוכה דרבנן ולא אתי דרבנן ודחי דאורייתא. ומצינו בהלכות גדולות שצריך להפטיר ברני ושמחי אבל במקומינו נהגו להפטיר בשל ר”ח מפני כבודו של רבי’ יהודה הכהן הזקן שהורה [כן] וקיי”ל מקום שיפול העץ שם יהו פירותיו.
It is clear from these sources that Rabbi Yehudah ha-Kohen ha-Zaken and Rav David (cited by his son Rav Shmuel), both students of Rabbeinu Gershom—and Rabbi Samuel bar David, ruled to read the Rosh Ḥodesh haftarah. Beyond the claim that Rosh Ḥodesh is by Torah law, they were evidently also aware that this was the ruling in Tractate Soferim.
By contrast, Rabbi Yitzḥak bar Yehudah—who studied under Rabbeinu Gershom but was primarily a disciple of Rabbi Eliezer ha-Gadol[19]—ruled in Mainz to read the Hanukkah haftarah despite the rulings of Rabbi David and Rabbeinu Yehudah ha-Zaken. Out of respect for the latter authorities, this ruling was not adopted, even though it was known that Halakhot Gedolot ruled in that direction (apparently referring to Halakhot Pesukot, as cited in Or Zarua).
In the Ra’avan we find a continuation of this position, including a statement that Rabbi Yehudah ha-Kohen’s sons also ruled to read the haftarah of Rosh Ḥodesh:
וראש חודש טבת שחל בשבת בחנוכה נחלקו בהפטרה. הגאונים רבינו רבי יהודה הכהן ובניו היו מורין להפטיר בהשמים כסאי מטעם תדיר ושאינו תדיר תדיר קודם. ועוד, מדאמרינן [כ”ט ב] דאין משגיחין בדחנוכה תחילה וראש חודש עיקר, למה לי למימר ראש חודש עיקר, אלא אפילו להפטרה. ועוד, מדמפורש בהפטרה “מידי חודש בחדשו ומידי שבת בשבתו” ואין דוחין שתים, שבת ור”ח, מפני אחת, חנוכה. והחלוקין עליהם אומרים כיון שהמפטיר קורא בדחנוכה צריך להפטיר בדחנוכה. וחקרתי אני אליעזר בסדר רב עמרם גאון, ולא הזכיר בו כלל השמים כסאי, אלא כך כתב בו, שבת של חנוכה קורין בנירות דזכריה רני ושמחי ואם יש ב’ שבתות בשבת ראשונה קורין רני ושמחי.
Here we see the same tendency noted earlier with Rabbi Samuel bar David: the sons of Rabbi Yehudah ha-Kohen followed their father’s ruling to read the Rosh Ḥodesh haftarah. Ra’avan notes that others disagreed, though he does not name them—presumably he refers to Rabbi Yitzḥak bar Yehudah and perhaps his son Rabbi Yehudah, who sought guidance regarding his father’s rulings.[20] It appears from Ra’avan’s language—though not definitively—that he personally examined the Siddur of Rav Amram Gaon and followed it in determining who to follow concerning this dispute among the scholars of Mainz.
It is noteworthy that in Sefer ha-Minhagim of Rabbi Abraham Klausner[21] and also in the Maharil[22] it is stated that the opinion of “Eliezer”[23] was to read the haftarah of Rosh Ḥodesh.
We find Maḥzor Vitry (239):
ואם חל ראש חדש בשבת התדיר תדיר קודם. ומוציאין ג’ תורות. וקורין ששה בעיניינו של יום. והשביעי ובראשי חדשיכם. ומפטיר קורא בחנוכת המזבח. לפי עניין היום. ומפטיר בנבואת זכריה. רני ושמחי: על שם ראיתי והנה מנורת זהב: והשמים כסאי בטילה. דהא לא קרי מפטיר בשל ראש חדש דלימא הפטרה דידיה: ובמס’ סופרי’ גר’ שמפטירין בשל ראש חדש. אבל לא נהגו העם כן. ושמעתי שנחלקו שני גדולי הדור במייאנצא. ר’ יצחק בר’ יהודה צוה להפטיר ברני ושמחי. ור’ שמואל בר’ דוד הלוי העיד משום (אבא) [אביו] שמפטירין בשל ראש חדש. וקבלו את עדותו: וכמדומה לי שחלוקין בין ראש חדש אדר שחל להיות בשבת. (דאין) [דאנן] נוהגין להפטיר ביהוידע.
It is evident from this statement that there existed a clear custom—apparently in France—to read the haftarah of Hanukkah despite their awareness of the dispute in Mainz.
Subsequently Rabbi Shimon of Sens (Tosafot, Shabbat 23b) stated unequivocally that Hanukkah haftarah should be read.
הדר פשטה נר חנוכה עדיף משום פרסומי ניסא – ונראה לרשב”א כשחל ר”ח טבת להיות בשבת שיש להפטיר בנרות דזכריה משום פרסומי ניסא ולא בהשמים כסאי שהיא הפטרת ר”ח. ועוד כיון שהמפטיר קורא בשל חנוכה יש לו להפטיר מענין שקרא. ומה שמקדימים לקרות בשל ר”ח משום דבקריאת התורה כיון דמצי למיעבד תרוייהו, תדיר ופרסומי ניסא, עבדינן תרוייהו, ותדיר קודם. אבל היכא דלא אפשר למעבד תרוייהו פרסומי ניסא עדיף. ועוד דבקריאת התורה אין כל כך פרסומי ניסא שאינו מזכיר בה נרות כמו בהפטרה. ועוד נראה לרשב”א דעל כן הקדימו של ר”ח כדי שהמפטיר יקרא בשל חנוכה ויפטיר בנרות דזכריה.
Tosafot hold that the reason why the Torah reading of Rosh Ḥodesh precedes that of Hanukkah is precisely so that the haftarah should be that of Hanukkah.
The Rash cited in Tosafot there adds another claim: Publicizing the miracle is far more prominent in the haftarah of Zechariah than in the Torah reading, which does not explicitly mention lamps.
Over the generations in Ashkenaz, both customs are recorded in the Rishonim such as Ravyah, Or Zarua, and Mordechai. Yet, in Ravyah—similarly to Ra’avan—there is a clear inclination toward reading the Hanukkah haftarah:
ואי איקלע פרשת שקלים בראש חדש אדר מפטיר בבן שבע שנים, דמיירי בשקלים מעין שקלים דכי תשא שקרא המפטיר, וזה הכלל שהמפטיר הולך אחר הפרשה שקרא הוא עצמו. ויש חולקים ואומרים להפטיר בראש חדש לעולם, מפני שהוא תדיר. וכן שבת וראש חדש וחנוכה מפטיר ברני ושמחי מעין הפרשה שקרא בה המפטיר. וכן כשחל פרשת שקלים בכ”ט בשבט מפטיר בבן שבע.
By contrast, Shibbolei Haleket[24] cites Rabbi Yehudah HaḤasid as ruling that one should read the Rosh Ḥodesh haftarah.
In Sefer ha-Minhagim of Mahara of Tirna, it is stated that the opinion of the Mordechai is to read the Hanukkah haftarah, and this is how it appears in the Vilna edition of the Talmud. Yet, the Machon Yerushalayim edition has an addition that appears in manuscript:
וכן נמצא בתשובת רב יהודאי גאון[25] אך רבי יהודה כהן הביא ממסכת סופרים ובהלכות פסוקות של ספר והזהיר[26] וברכות ירושלמי[27] שמפטירין בדר”ח, ונלאיתי לכתוב ראיות.
Despite this, according to the other French sources the practice was to read the Hanukkah haftarah. In the Sefer ha-Minhagim (76) attributed to Rabbeinu Abraham Klausner—though the core of the work is actually by Rabbi Paltiel (of French origin)[28] —it is stated:
ומפטיר רני ושמחי, וכן מנהג הרבב במיידבורק. לעולם נגד מה שקורין המפטיר מפטירין. וה”ר אליעזר אומר דמפטירין השמים כסאי ואין משגיחין בדחנוכה, אע”פ כשחל ר”ח אדר בשבת מפטירין בן שבע שנים, היינו משום דמיניה קא סליק משקלים, לכך משקלים מפטירין דדמי’ ליה ושבקיה דר”ח, אבל הכא לא דמי רני ושמחי לפרשת נשיאים כלל, הילכך מפטירין בדר”ח דדמי’ לפרשת שבת ולפרשת ר”ח שנא’ “מדי חדש בחדשו ומדי שבת בשבתו”, והכי אמרינן במסכת סופרים, שאל ר’ יצחקה לר’ יצחק נפחא ר”ח טבת שחל להיות בשבת במה קורין א”ל בענין ויהי ביום כלות משה, ומפטיר בר”ח ושבת והיינו מדי חדש בחדשו וגו’.
This passage introduces a new claim: The haftarah of Hanukkah does not correspond to the Torah reading of the Nesi’im at all, and therefore should not override the Rosh Ḥodesh haftarah. This represents at least one French source inclined toward the Rosh Ḥodesh haftarah. These views are cited in the glosses of the Maharil, though the Maharil himself ruled to read the Hanukkah haftarah.
Ultimately, the Rosh, the Tur,[29] and the Abudirham[30]—and following them the Shulḥan Arukh and the Levush (with the Rema not offering a dissent)—all ruled that the haftarah of Hanukkah is read. This is the practice observed in all communities today.
- I would like to thank my brother R’ Yehoshua Duker for his help in editing this, and Dr. Gabriel Wasserman for discussing the piyyutim with me. This article is written לזכר נשמת ייטא בת הרב שמואל יוסף who just passed away. Her emunah and mesirat nefesh in Auschwitz and in her long life afterward is a source of inspiration for her extended family and beyond. ↑
- See my site on Alhatorah, with regard to the Algerian practice not to read a special haftarah for the second Sabbath of Hanukkah ↑
- See E. Fleischer, The Formation and Fixation of Prayer in Eretz Yisrael, pp. 449–450 (Heb.). He understands that the reading for the last day of Hanukkah when it fell on the Sabbath was not the entirety of Numbers 7 but only similar to today’s practice. The issue of the tradition of the miracle of the oil is beyond the scope of this article. ↑
- Concerning the haftarot for Hanukkah in Pesikta Rabati, see Elitzur, B. “Pesikta Rabati: Pirkei Mevo” pp.77-79. ↑
- Piska 8 fn. 1. ↑
- See Fleisher. ↑
- Elitzur p. 77. ↑
- Elitzur. ↑
- Mahzor Piyuttei Rabbi Yannai LeTorah Velamoadim, Vol, 2. p. 237. ↑
- https://maagarim.hebrew-academy.org.il/Pages/PMain.aspx?mishibbur=954001&page=1 and Elitzur S. “Piyyutei Rabbi Yeshuah Birbi Yoesf Hashofet” p.11 fn. 46 and pp 28-20 in Kovetz Al Yad 5774. ↑
- Fleisher pp. 451-452, and fn. 32. ↑
- Rabbi Yeshuah was a dayan in 11th century Alexandria. See Fleisher, ibid. ↑
- Oxford Bodl. Heb. e. 93/3. ↑
- Fragment is in Judeo-Arabic, translated by Fleisher pp. 449-250 and fn. 22. ↑
- P. 185. ↑
- P. 36. ↑
- Budapest Edition, p. 144 ↑
- Ms, 6691=31. It is not clear why Yehoyada is mentioned here. Perhaps it is due to confusion with the son of the First Temple era Zechariah, or perhaps it is due to the same issue existing with regard to Rosh Ḥodesh Adar of Sabbath when the haftarah is about Yehoyada; see Mahzor Vitry, cited below. ↑
- Grossman, Ḥakhmei Ashkenaz Harishonim pp. 302-303. ↑
- Ibid. p 301. ↑
- Machon Yerushalayim edition, p. 65, Halacha 76. ↑
- Machon Yerushalayim edition, p. 410. ↑
- I.e., Raavan; see notes in books above. ↑
- Inyan Hanukkah, Siman 190. ↑
- It seems he is referring to the Halakhot Pesukot. ↑
- We do not have this source. See Shibbolei Haleket, Zichron Aaron edition, siman 190 fn. 32. ↑
- This source does not appear in today’s editions of the Yerushalmi. Many thought that Rishonim had a “Sefer Yerushalmi” that was an addition to the standard Talmud Yerushalmi. Several decades ago, texts were found in the bindings of books in various European libraries that may be this work. See Zusman Y. “Seridei Yerushalmi Ktav Yad Ashkenzi (Kovetz Al Yad 1994, especially pp.15-17). Later he writes how the Mordechai (Beitzah 2:682) cites a Yerushalmi not known to us, and it was found there.
As I am unaware of anything from Tractate Berakhot from this Geniza, it is uncertain what the Mordechai is referring to, but he is likely referring to this work here as well. See Zussman’s “Yerushalimi Ktav-Yad VeSefer Hayerushalmi” in Tarbitz (1996) pp. 37-63, as well as Mack. H. “Al Hahaftara Beḥag Simchat Torah” in Meḥkerei Talmud 3 vo. 2 pp. 497-8 fn. 44. ↑ - See the introduction to the Machon Yerushalayim edition. ↑
- Oraḥ Ḥayyim 684. It is the same in other sources using this numbering. ↑
- Hanukkah. ↑
Book Review: The House of Twenty Thousand Books by Sasha Abramsky
Sasha Abramsky / Halban Publishers (London UK) / 321pp/ GBP 14.95 – easily
available from Amazon.uk
will instantly be associated with the personality of Rav Yechezkel Abramsky
(1886-1976), the author of Hazon
Yechezkel on the Tosefta. Born in
Russia, imprisoned by the Soviets, released in the 1930’s after diplomatic
intervention by the U.S. and Britain, he was for years the head of the London
Beth Din before his retirement to Israel.
whose life followed a very different path, and was, simultaneously, one of the
leading bibliophiles of the Jewish world – and of the Socialist-Marxist
world. One of his grandsons, Sasha
Abramsky, has written a memoir of his grandfather centred on 5, Hillway – Chimen’s
house close to London’s Hampstead Heath (and to Highgate Cemetery, burial place
of Karl Marx). Chimen was a bibliophile
and scholar, but also an obsessive collector of books, of which 5, Hillway
contained an estimated twenty thousand.
This book describes the house room by room, and the significance of the
books in each one, piled high and crammed into every nook and cranny.
way to Mandatory (or, Mandatary[1])
Palestine, where he took courses in Jewish history at the Hebrew University.[2]
He was already a committed Communist.
Returning to London at the outbreak of war, he became a hugely
influential member of the Communist party in London. To his grandson’s
bewilderment, he was a convinced Stalinist, attributing such anti-Jewish
excesses as he was prepared to recognise to Soviet anti-religious, rather than
anti-Semitic, sentiment.
he entered the family business – ‘Shapiro, Vallentine’, a small Jewish bookshop
and publishing company in the East End of London. Over successive years he turned it into a center of rare book
dealing, while simultaneously serving the London Jewish community with
siddurim, machzorim, barmitzvah presents and other ritual paraphernalia[3].
the party after 1956 – although, inexplicably, he was one of the last to
leave. He turned his energy into an
academic career; first as Sotheby’s consultant on Judaica[4],
then as a fellow of St Antony’s College Oxford (on the strength of his
co-authored book on ‘Karl Marx and the British Labour Movement’, and on the
personal recommendation of Isaiah Berlin) and shortly thereafter, at the age of
51, as Reader in Jewish Studies at University College, London. He was appointed Professor at UCL in 1974. In
the 1970’s he was one of the first visiting Fellows at the Oxford Institute of
Postgraduate Hebrew Studies[5],
where he was my teacher of early medieval Jewish history. Chimen was a world-class polymath, with a
totally encyclopedic knowledge of manuscripts, books, footnotes, scholars and
libraries.
of his household, which functioned as research library, international salon for
streams of visitors, and a family home.
Every room had its subject area – Judaica, European socialism, Marxiana,
art history, philosophy and social studies.
Chimen and Miriam had two children – Jenny, later famous as the most
senior female executive at the BBC, and Jack (Sasha’s father)[6]. Chimen’s relationship to his Judaism was
complex; despite his veneration of his father, he does not appear to have given
his own children much of a Jewish education, even though they grew up in a
house full of some of the rarest Judaica in private hands. Sasha describes the
historians[7],
politicians, thinkers and scholars who came to sit at the table of this
diminutive, engaging personality with his thick Russian accent, which he never
lost. His later years were affected by
deteriorating health, and he finally passed away at the age of 93 in 2010.
affectionate, and admiring memoir[8]. Booklovers will love it, as will anyone who
knew the enigmatic subject at the centre of the story. The book is not perfect;
far more attention – perhaps a little repetitively – is paid to Chimen’s
socialism (and its abandonment) than to his Jewish involvement and
scholarship. The author is clearly not
on such familiar ground in this latter area, and makes a few mistakes. But it is a labour of love, and a good one
at that.
the readers of the Seforim blog. In
1974, Chimen told me with pride that Gershom Scholem had visited him, and that
he had shown Scholem a ‘Hassidic siddur’ from his, Chimen’s collection, “which
was earlier than any previously known Hassidic book. Scholem was very excited
by this. He demanded that I must publish it!”
Did he ever do so? Where is the
book now? I have no idea.
Ullendorff ‘The two Zions’.
awarded to him decades later as a prerequisite of his being appointed Professor
of Jewish Studies at University College, London.
books in the 1960’s, this is where I first met Chimen, He was patient,
encouraging, and sold me a number of exquisite and fascinating books – material
otherwise unobtainable anywhere else in the UK. He closed the store when he took up his academic career.
expertise was applied as adviser to Jack Lunzer in the assembling of the
Valmadonna Trust library.
Jewish Studies.
book and in the video (see below), bears a very striking resemblance to Shlomo
Carlebach….
from his Jerusalem days, passed away suddenly in 5, Hillway while visiting.
for a short video about the book, including some video of Chimen.




















