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The Universalism of Rav Kook

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The
Universalism of Rav Kook
by
Bezalel Naor
Copyright
©
2018 Bezalel Naor

Stereotypes are difficult to overcome. Until
recently, the stereotype of Rav Avraham Yitzhak Hakohen Kook (1865-1935) was of
a nationalist (perhaps even ultranationalist) who lent his rabbinic aegis to
the Zionist enterprise in the first third of the twentieth century.
In his seminal work Orot [Lights]
(Jerusalem, 1920), the very first section of the book is entitled “Erets
Yisrael.” The punchline of the first chapter reads:
The expectation of
salvation (tsefiyat ha-yeshu‘ah) is the force that preserves exilic
Judaism; the Judaism of the Land of Israel is salvation itself (ha-yeshu‘ah
‘atsmah).
Thus, Rav Kook placed Israel’s return to its
ancestral homeland front and center, and provided it with theological
underpinnings sorely lacking in the secular Zionist movement.
In this respect, Rav Kook’s bold initiative,
courageous and outspoken, at times alienated him from his more
conservative-minded rabbinic peers. The Gerrer Rebbe, Avraham Mordechai Alter
(1866-1948), wrote in a much publicized letter:
The Rav, the Gaon R.
Avraham Kook, may he live, is a man of many-sided talents in Torah, and noble
traits. Also, it is public knowledge that he loathes money. However, his love
for Zion surpasses all limit and he “declares the impure pure and adduces proof
to it.”…From this, came the strange things in his books.
With the passage of time and the publication of many
hitherto suppressed manuscripts, we become increasingly aware of another facet
to the extremely complex personality of Rav Kook: the cosmopolitan or
universalist. Rav Kook’s passionate love for his land and his nation of Israel,
in no way vitiated the larger scope of his Messianic or utopian vision. Such an
illuminating manuscript is that designated Pinkas 5, published this year
of 2018 by Boaz Ofen in volume 3 of his ongoing series Kevatsim mi-Khetav
Yad Kodsho [Journals from Manuscript]. The Pinkas has been
dated by the Editor to the years 1907-1913, during which time Rav Kook served
as Rabbi of Jaffa.
In the following pensée (perhaps essay is the
better word), Rav Kook argues that just as the “seventy nations” of the world
form an organic unity, the proverbial “family of man,” so too the various faith
communities or religions complement one another in a parallel organic unity.
Though Rav Kook probably never heard of the mythic
bird Simorgh—who figures prominently in the twelfth-century work The Conference
of the Birds by the Persian poet Farid ud-Din Attar—Rav
Kook’s imagery is roughly reminiscent. In that allegorical tale, the birds of
the world set out to find a leader. It has been suggested to them that they
appoint as their king the legendary Simorgh. To reach the remote mountain abode
of the Simorgh, the birds must embark on a perilous journey. Most of the birds
succumb to the elements along the way. At journey’s end, there remain but
thirty birds. They discover that they themselves, together, form the sought
Simorgh. In Persian, “Simorgh” means “thirty birds” (si-morgh).
Lest the reader mistakenly surmise that Rav Kook
suggests that the faith of Israel will in some way be subordinated to a higher
unity, Rav Kook’s bottom line reads:
And with this,
automatically the horn of Israel must be uplifted.
“Bow
down to Him, all gods” [Psalms
97:7].
***
The aspiration to bring
peace to the world, has always been the aspiration of Israel. This is the
interior of the soul of Knesset Israel (Ecclesia Israel), which
was given full expression by the chosen of her children, the Prophets who
foresaw at the End of Days humanity’s happiness and world peace.
However, light advances
slowly. The strides made are not discernible because divine patience is great,
and that which appears in the eyes of flesh insignificant—is truly exalted from
the vantage of the supernal eye. “In the place of its greatness, there you find
its humility.”[1]
Even in the worst life; the hardest, lowest, most sinful life—there is abundant
light and sufficient place for the divine love to appear. That life need not be
erased from existence, but rather uplifted to a higher niveau. There is no
vacuum,[2] no
empty space; every level needs to be filled.
Truly world peace, in
the material sense, comes into our vision. The nationalism that ruled supreme
during the days of “barbarism,” when each nation perceived a foreign nation as
uncivilized,[3]
[and held] that all man’s obligations to man are cancelled in regard to the
“barbarians”—this evil notion is being erased. On the other hand, with the
passing of generations, the intellect, the light of fairness, and the necessity
of life—the windows through which the divine light wends its way—all together
impress the stamp of universal peace upon the national character. Gradually,
there arrives the recognition that humanity’s division into nations, does not
pit them against one another, such that nations cannot dwell together on the
planet Earth. Rather, their relation is organic—just as individuals relate to
the nation, and the limbs to the body. This notion, when completely manifest,
shall renew the face of the world, purifying hearts of their wickedness and
uplifting souls.
However, the relation
of nations—their pacification—must correspond to the relation of religions. A
complete nationalism is not possible without correlate feelings of holiness.
Those sentiments—whether few or many—change opinions; those sentiments are
sensitive to the variables of geography and history.[4]
Peace between nations
cannot come about by minimizing the value of nationalism. On the contrary,
people of good will recognize that just as the feeling for family is
respectable and pleasant, holy and pure, and were it to be lost from the world,
humanity would lose with it a great treasure of happiness and holiness—so the
loss of the “national family” [i.e. nationalism] and all the sentiments and delicate
ideas bound to it, would leave in its place a destruction that would bring to
the collective soul a frustration much more painful than all the pains that it
suffered on account of the demarcation of nationalism.
Humanity must receive
the good and reject the evil. The force of repulsion and the force of
attraction together build the material world; and the cosmopolitan and national
forces together build the palace of humanity and its world of good fortune.[5]
As it is in regard to nationalism,
so it is in regard to religions. It is not the removal of religion—that will
bring bliss, but rather the religious perceptions eventually relating to one
another in a bond of friendship. (With the removal of religion there would pass
from the world a great treasure of strength and life; inestimable treasures of
good.) Every thought of enmity, of opposition, of destruction, will dissipate
and disappear. There will remain in the religions only the higher, inner,
universal purpose, full of holy light and true peace, a treasure of light and
eternal life. The religions will recognize each other as brothers; [will
recognize] how each serves its purpose within its boundary, and does what it
must do in its circle. The relation of one religion to another will be organic.
This realization automatically brings about (and is brought about by) the
higher realization of the unity of the light of Ein Sof [the Infinite],
that manifests upon and through all. And with this, automatically the horn of
Israel must be uplifted.
“Bow
down to Him, all gods” [Psalms
97:7].
(Kevatsim
mi-Khetav Yad Kodsho, ed. Boaz Ofen, vol. 3 [Jerusalem, 2018], Pinkas 5,
par. 43 [pp. 96-97])

[1] A play upon the
saying of Rabbi Yoḥanan in b. Megillah 31a: “Wherever you find the strength
of the Holy One, blessed be He, you find His humility.”
[2] Based on the
saying attributed to Aristotle: “Nature abhors a vacuum.”
[3] Rav Kook
explains the meaning of the original Greek word “barbaros” (βάρβαρος).
[4] Cf. this
passage in ‘Arpilei Tohar:
Messiah will
interpret the Torah of Moses, by revealing in the world how all the peoples and
divisions of mankind derive their spiritual nourishment from the one fundamental
source, while the content conforms to the spirit of each nation according to
its history and all its distinctive features, be they temperamental or
climatological; [according to] all the economic vagaries and the variables of psychology—so
that the wealth of specificity lacks for nothing. Nevertheless, all will bond
together and derive nourishment from one source, with a supernal friendship and
a strong inner assurance.
“‘The Lord will
give a saying; the heralds are a great host’ [Psalms 68:12]—Every word that
emitted from the divine mouth divided into seventy languages” (b. Shabbat
88b).
(‘Arpilei
Tohar [Jerusalem, 1983], pp. 62-63)
‘Arpilei Tohar was first
printed in Jerusalem in 1914, before the outbreak of World War One. For various
reasons that we need not go into now, that edition remained unbound and
uncirculated. Random copies found their way into private collections. In 1983, ‘Arpilei
Tohar was reprinted in a slightly censored fashion. The complete contents of
‘Arpilei Tohar are now available in the unexpurgated collection, Shemonah
Kevatsim, where it is designated “Kovets 2.” This particular
passage occurs in Shemonah Kevatsim (Jerusalem, 2004), 2:177.
[5] Rav Kook likens
nationalism and cosmopolitanism to the repulsive and attractive forces of a
magnet.


Book Launch of the Koren Rav Kook Siddur

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Book Launch of the Koren Rav Kook Siddur
Seforim Blog contributor Rabbi Bezalel Naor has just published a major work, the Koren Rav Kook Siddur.
Culled from Rav Kook’s own commentary to the Siddur, Olat Re’iyah, and other writings of Rav Kook, as well as rich anecdotes transmitted by Rav Kook’s son and major disciples, The Koren Rav Kook Siddur speaks to the soul, while it connects us all to the sacred soil of the Holy Land.
There will be a book launch on Sunday, January 7, 10:00 AM, at Lincoln Square Synagogue in New York. Rabbi Naor will discuss the new siddur and dialogue with Professor Marc B. Shapiro regarding Rav Kook’s legacy. The event will be moderated by Rabbi Shaul Robinson. All are invited to attend.
Here are some sample pages:



Bridging the Kabbalistic Gap Nefesh HaTzimtzum by Avinoam Fraenkel reviewed by Bezalel Naor

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Bridging the Kabbalistic Gap
Nefesh HaTzimtzum by Avinoam Fraenkel
Vol. 1: Rabbi Chaim Volozhin’s Nefesh HaChaim with Translation and Commentary
Volume 2: Understanding Nefesh HaChaim through the Key Concept of Tzimtzum and Related Writings
(Jerusalem: Urim, 2015)
Reviewed by Bezalel Naor
Recently there has been a spate of English translations of the classic of Mitnagdic philosophy, Nefesh ha-Hayyim by Rabbi Hayyim of Volozhin (1749-1821), eminent disciple of the Vilna Gaon. This is perhaps the most glorious—certainly the lengthiest—of the translations, one that attempts to rewrite the debate between Hasidim and Mitnagdim.
The present edition, the most extensive to date, is divided in two volumes. Volume One consists of a Hebrew-English edition of the entire book with the exception of the famous note by the author’s son, Rabbi Isaac (Itzeleh) of Volozhin, known as “Ma’amar Be-Tzelem.” That note and other related writings of Rabbi Hayyim have been translated in Volume Two. In a unique typesetting innovation, the translator divides the complex Hebrew sentences into phrases, easing the English reading.
In the lengthy introduction to Volume Two, entitled “Tzimtzum—The Key to Nefesh HaChaim,” Avinoam Fraenkel has carved out for himself a most ambitious goal: to tackle the perennial problem of latter-day Kabbalah, namely the Lurianic doctrine of Tzimtzum or divine self-contraction. Traditionally, there have been two schools of thought on the matter: those who hold “tzimtzum ki-peshuto,” i.e. the doctrine is to be taken literally; and those convinced that “tzimtzum she-lo ki-peshuto,” i.e. Tzimtzum is not to be taken literally. As Fraenkel points out, this terminology first gained currency in the debate between two Italian kabbalists, Rabbi Joseph Ergas (author Shomer Emunim) and Rabbi Immanuel Hai Ricchi (author Yosher Levav) back in 1736-7.[1]
Fraenkel’s thesis is that even when things are “pashut” (simple), they truly are not so “pashut” (simple). Even when a kabbalist such as Rabbi Shelomo Elyashiv (author Leshem Shevo ve-Ahlamah) writes boldly that he understands the doctrine literally as did the author of Yosher Levav—that requires complexification.
You might ask of what concern is this rarefied debate to the masses of Jews living in the twenty-first century. Ah! It just so happens that many if not most historians have assumed that this debate, which translates into transcendentalist versus immanentist theology, was at the heart of the terrible controversy between the Mitnagdim and Hasidim that tore apart East European Jewry in the late eighteenth century. At that time, the Vilna Gaon issued a herem, an official rabbinic ban excommunicating the followers of the Ba’al Shem Tov.
If it can be proven that there is essentially no difference of theology between the Tanya (the “Bible” of Hasidism), written by Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, founder of the Habad school of Hasidism, and the Nefesh ha-Hayyim (the “Shulhan ‘Arukh” of Mitnagdic ideology), then we will have dissolved any continuing animus between Hasidim and Mitnagdim, and “Shalom ‘al Yisrael” (Peace to Israel). This is the fondest wish of the author.
The truth is—as the author makes us aware—this is not the first attempt to smooth over theological differences between the Tanya and Nefesh ha-Hayyim. On the eve of World War Two, Rabbi Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler—a preeminent master of the Mussar school, Mashgi’ah Ruhani of Gateshead and later of the Ponevezh Yeshivah in B’nei Berak—then residing in London, wished to issue a proclamation to the effect that there is essentially no mahloket, no difference of opinion between Rabbi Shneur Zalman and Rabbi Hayyim regarding the correct interpretation of Tzimtzum. Rabbi Dessler’s distinguished houseguest at the time was Rabbi Yitzhak Horowitz (known in Lubavitch as “Reb Itche Der Masmid,” on account of his legendary “hatmadah,” or devotion to learning), who acted as fundraiser on behalf of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Joseph Isaac Schneersohn. Rabbi Dessler asked Rabbi Horowitz to sign on the proclamation.
To make a long story short, eventually Rabbi Dessler’s overtures were forwarded to the son-in-law of the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson (eventual successor to his father-in-law as Rebbe of Lubavitch), who penned a formal reply. For the life of him, Rabbi M.M. Schneerson could not fathom how someone with competence in Kabbalah (which Rabbi Dessler certainly did possess) could fail to see the obvious differences between the Habad and Volozhin understandings of Tzimtzum. (Rabbi Schneerson further outlined that there was a difference between the Vilna Gaon and his student Rabbi Hayyim of Volozhin regarding Tzimtzum, a point in the letter which continues to rile Mitnagdim to this day. In fact, Rabbi Yosef Zussman of Jerusalem, eminent disciple of Rabbi Ya‘akov Moshe Harlap, wrote several unanswered letters to the Lubavitcher Rebbe remonstrating how absurd it is to entertain the notion that Rabbi Hayyim, who adored his master the Gaon, disagreed with him on so basic an issue.)
Left without a “partner in peace” of the opposite camp, Rabbi Dessler’s proclamation was buried. Where titans such as Rabbis Dessler and Schneerson could not see eye to eye, Avinoam Fraenkel certainly has his work cut out for him. Before we proceed further to the “nuts and bolts” of the Tanya—Nefesh ha-Hayyim debate, the reader may wish to listen to some music pleasing to the ear:

·         When Rabbi Abraham Mordechai Alter, Rebbe of Gur (“Imrei Emet”) asked Rav Kook how he knew so much Hasidut, Rav Kook responded that he had studied Nefesh ha-Hayyim.
·         Rabbi Michael Eliezer Forshlager of Baltimore, a foremost student of Rabbi Avraham Bornstein, Rebbe of Sokhatchov (author Responsa Avnei Nezer) carried in his tallit bag a volume which consisted of Tanya and Nefesh ha-Hayyim bound together at Rabbi Forshlager’s special request.
·         Once around the family table in Brooklyn, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson (by then Lubavitcher Rebbe) spoke so enthusiastically of Nefesh ha-Hayyim that his brother-in-law Rabbi Shemariah Gurary said in jest: “Then perhaps we Hasidim should take to studying Nefesh ha-Hayyim.”

Back to the mahloket. What are the cold facts concerning the debate?
It is incontrovertible that Rabbi Hayyim has stood the Zohar’s terms “memale kol ‘almin” (“filling all worlds”) and “sovev kol ‘almin” (“surrounding all worlds”) on their heads. What for the Tanya is “memale kol ‘almin,” is for Nefesh ha-Hayyim, “sovev kol ‘almin,” and vice versa. Rabbi Shelomo Fisher of Jerusalem has written that this is merely semantics.[2] Others read into the shift of terminology a substantive controversy as to Weltanschauung. What for Hasidism is common experience, namely the immanence, the immediate presence of God, is for Mitnagdism a recondite mystery reserved for the elite.
In the words of Rabbi Eizik of Homel, a major disciple of Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi and of his son, Rabbi Dov Baer of Lubavitch (Mitteler Rebbe):

This belief is possessed by all the Hasidim, but the Mitnagdim, even those who are not etc. [the word etc. occurs in the original], do not have this faith, only in a very, very concealed manner, as Israel were in Egypt…They have no room for this faith that Altz iz Gott (All is God).[3]

Fraenkel observes that much of the “poisoning of the waters” was done by publication of a spurious letter attributed to the “Alter Rebbe,” Rabbi Shneur Zalman, in the anonymous Matzref ha-‘Avodah (Koenigsberg, 1858). Later the letter was incorporated in Heilman’s more responsible Beit Rebbi (Berdichev, 1902). In the forged epistle, Rabbi Shneur Zalman writes that it has come to his awareness that the Vilna Gaon understands Tzimtzum literally.
This letter contributed to Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson’s formulation concerning the Vilna Gaon’s view of Tzimtzum. One might mistakenly assume that once the letter is exposed as a forgery, Habad should have no problem accepting that there truly was no disagreement between the two rival camps concerning Tzimtzum. But Fraenkel knows that this is not the end of his troubles.
There is the matter of the passage in the second part of Tanya (titled Sha‘ar ha-Yihud ve-ha-Emunah) which reserves some pretty harsh language for the literalists:

…the error of some wise men in their own eyes, may the Lord forgive them, who erred and were mistaken in their study of the writings of the Ari, of blessed memory, and understood the doctrine of Tzimtzum mentioned there literally, that the Holy One, blessed be He, withdrew Himself and His essence, God forbid, from this world, only that He supervises from above.[4]

Who are the unnamed villains of this passage? To endeavor to answer this question, we would do well to research the printing history of the Tanya. The passage in question was missing from all editions of the Tanya printed before the year 1900. In that year, the passage surfaced in the Romm edition printed in Vilna at the behest of Rabbi Shalom Dov Baer Schneersohn of Lubavitch. Until that time, it had been preserved in manuscript in the keeping of the heirs of the Ba‘al ha-Tanya. That means that for over a century since the Tanya was first printed in Slavuta in 1796, this sensitive piece—a sort of J’accuse, if you will—was suppressed. Why was it ever suppressed to begin with, and why was it finally revealed in 1900?
An obvious solution would be that the passage obliquely lambasted the Vilna Gaon, and it was not until a century later that a direct descendant of the author felt that times had changed and that the sociological “climate” had warmed sufficiently to allow for an unexpurgated version of the Tanya to appear in print. This time, no herem would be issued in Vilna.
And for the record, Rabbi Menachem Mendel was not the first Schneerson to assume that the Gaon understood Tzimtzum literally. Earlier, the Rebbe of Kopyst, Rabbi Shelomo Zalman Schneerson (1830-1900), author Magen Avot, wrote in a letter to Rabbi Don Tumarkin: “This is the entire subject of Tzimtzum, and this is the Hasidism of the Ba‘al Shem Tov and the Maggid, may they rest in peace, that the Tzimtzum is not to be taken literally, as opposed to the opinion of the Mishnat Hasidim [i.e. Rabbi Immanuel Hai Ricchi] and the Gaon Rabbi Elijah, of blessed memory.”[5]
Fraenkel is not willing to accept that the passage in Tanya is directed at the Vilna Gaon or earlier Rabbi Immanuel Hai Ricchi. He stands in good company. Upon receipt of Hayyim Yitzhak Bunin’s Mishneh Habad II (Warsaw, 1933), Rav Kook wrote back to the author requesting that he retract his statement that the pejorative “wise men in their own eyes” refers to the author of Mishnat Hasidim and the Gaon of Vilna.[6]
But then the question remains. Who are the “bad guys” of the Tanya? Fraenkel would have us believe that the reference is to the likes of the crypto-Sabbatian Nehemiah Hiyya Hayyon, against whom Ergas inveighed in his polemical works Tokhahat Megulah and Ha-Tzad Nahash (London, 1715).[7]
If that were the case, the language of the Tanya is too mild and reserved. Sabbatians (believers in pseudo-Messiah Shabtai Tzevi) are usually treated to much more invective, such as “blasted be their bones.” There is a parallel passage in the work of Rabbi Aaron Halevi Horowitz of Starosselje, Sha‘arei ha-Yihud ve-ha-Emunah. There the language is even more compassionate and conciliatory. It is hard to imagine that the Ba‘al ha-Tanya and his prime pupil Rabbi Aaron Halevi Horowitz would show such empathy towards a Sabbatian heresiarch. With very few exceptions, members of the rabbinate were not “melamed zekhut” when it came to deviants of the Sabbatian persuasion. The passage reads:

…As it occurred to some latter-day kabbalists who attempt to be wise (mithakmim)…to understand Tzimtzum literally, as if He contracted Himself, and this is a crime, and their sin is too great to forbear, but their merit is that they have not spoken all these things with premeditation, God forbid, but rather from lack of understanding. May the Lord forgive them, “for in respect of all the people it was done in error” (Numbers 15:26).[8]

Tzimtzum-literalism is not a characteristically Sabbatian posture, nor is it the exclusive domain of Sabbatians. Rabbi Jacob Emden, the arch-nemesis of the Sabbatians, took Tzimtzum literally, drawing an analogy to the vacuum created by a pump.[9] In fact, Emden excoriated Ricchi for belaboring the point, when “certainly, absolutely, it is not to be construed other than literally, and it is one of the a priori assumptions for the believer in our holy religion, if not for anti-religious apikorsim who do not concede the creation of the world.”[10]
There is another problem with deflecting the Tanya’s critique away from the Gaon of Vilna toward Sabbatian kabbalists. If Sabbatians were being targeted, then why did the passage need to be suppressed at all? The Vilna Gaon and his disciples were certainly condemnatory of Sabbatianism in all its guises, so there would have been nothing in the passage to give offense to the Mitnagdim, the opponents of Hasidism.
Fraenkel’s work is much more difficult than that of Rabbi Dessler, for Fraenkel has tasked himself with harmonizing the view of Rabbi Shelomo Elyashiv (1841-1926), author of Leshem, as well. Rabbi Shelomo Elyashiv wrote—both in his Helek ha-Bi’urim and in his recently published correspondence with fellow Mitnagdic kabbalist Rabbi Naftali Herz Halevi Weidenbaum—that he subscribes to the literalist interpretation of Tzimtzum as described in Ricchi’s Yosher Levav.[11] The Leshem went so far as to cast aspersions on the Likkutim printed at the conclusion of Bi’ur ha-Gra to Sifra di-Tzeni‘uta, which present a non-literal reading of Tzimtzum.[12]
Professor Mordechai Pachter was struck by the most incongruous dovetailing of the perspectives of Lubavitch and Leshem concerning the Vilna Gaon’s interpretation of Tzimtzum. Both ascribe to the Gaon a literalist interpretation.[13]
“To cut to the chase,” Fraenkel’s strategy for reconciling what appear glaring differences of opinion involves invoking the kabbalistic theory of relativity, namely the distinction between the divine perspective and the human perspective. The Aramaic expressions that convey this thought are “le-gabei dideh” versus “le-gabei didan.”[14] (In Nefesh ha-Hayyim, the Hebrew terms “mi-tzido”/”mi-tzidenu” serve the same purpose.)[15] This distinction is certainly a valuable tool but it should not be overused. It strikes this reader as overly simplistic to assume that all writers (with the exception of Sabbatians) who grasp Tzimtzum literally are necessarily writing from the human perspective, while writers who understand Tzimtzum non-literally are necessarily writing from the divine perspective. And if the distinction should not be overused, a fortiori it should not be misused. To ascribe the human perspective (as opposed to divine perspective) to Rabbi Immanuel Hai Ricchi when he clearly writes the opposite, is to do violence to his words. A key passage in his Yosher Levav (quoted in fact by Fraenkel) reads:

Therefore relative to us (le-gabei didan), it is as if there was no Tzimtzum and we can say that the Tzimtzum is not literal. However, relative to the Ein Sof (le-gabei ha-Ein Sof) itself, it is literal.[16]

How it is then possible to flip around the author’s mindset and reverse his stated position, is beyond me.
At day’s end, the warring factions within Knesset Yisrael may have to make peace with their differences of opinion intact, even in the matter of Tzimtzum.

[1] Prof. Menachem Kallus confided to the writer that in his estimation the earliest discussion whether Tzimtzum was intended literally or not, is to be found in the notes to Vital’s ‘Ets Hayyim penned by Rabbi Meir Poppers (ca. 1624-1662). Poppers writes that it sounds to him as if Luria’s disciples Rabbi Hayyim Vital and Rabbi Yosef ibn Tabul understood from the Rav [Isaac Luria] that “the Tzimtzum is literal” (“ha-tzimtzum ke-mishma‘o”). See Rabbi Meir Poppers, ’Or Zaru‘a, ed. Safrin and Sofer (Jerusalem: Hevrat Ahavat Shalom, 1986), Sha‘ar ha-‘Iggulim ve-ha-Yosher, chap. 2 (p. 29).
[2] See “Derush ha-Tefillin” in Rabbi Shelomo Fisher, Beit Yishai—Derashot (Jerusalem, 2004), p. 355.
[3] Rabbi Eizik of Homel, “Igeret Kodesh” (Holy Epistle) printed at the conclusion of Hannah Ariel—Amarot Tehorot (Ma’amar ha-Shabbat, etc.) (Berdichev: Sheftel, 1912), 4b.
[4] Tanya II, 7 (83a).
[5] Published in M.M. Laufer, Ha-Melekh bi-Mesibo II (Kefar Habad: Kehot, 1993), p. 286.
[6] Rav Kook’s manuscript was published in Haskamot ha-Rayah (Jerusalem: Makhon RZYH Kook, 1988).
Ironically, Rav Kook’s maternal grandfather Raphael Felman was a Hasid of the Rebbe of Kopyst.
Fraenkel dismisses out of hand the notion that the Tanya pilloried Ricchi because of the fact that references to Ricchi’s Mishnat Hasidim figure prominently in the Tanya. See Nefesh HaTzimtzum, vol. 2, p. 79, n. 89. This argument is unconvincing. It is quite conceivable that the Ba‘al ha-Tanya was fond of Mishnat Hasidim, a popular digest of Lurianic Kabbalah, while viewing Ricchi’s other work Yosher Levav as being outside the pale. And for the very reason that such a venerable Kabbalist erred in his judgment concerning Tzimtzum, he was worthy of compassion. Cf. Rabbi Tzadok Hakohen Rabinowitz:
There were already found many great men, authors among the Mekubbalim, who stumbled in this, including the author of Yosher Levav, who explained the matter of Tzimtzum and similarly many matters of Kabbalah in [terms recognizable] to the understanding [as] total corporealization. I have spelled out his name, for some authors published after him already publicized him in order to clarify his errors in this respect. Behold he was a great and holy man, as is known, and erred only in his faith. Though this too is a great error and requires atonement (as explained above), nonetheless it is not such a grievous sin, as explained in the words of the Rabad…”
(Sefer ha-Zikhronot in Divrei Soferim [Lublin, 1913], 32d)
The reference is to Rabad’s animadversion to Maimonides’ statement in MT, Hil. Teshuvah 3:7 that one who professes belief in a corporeal deity has the halakhic status of a “min.”
[7] Fraenkel’s “Shabbetian Tzimtzum Kipshuto” (as opposed to the “Acceptable Tzimtzum Kipshuto”) strikes this writer as a “straw man” contrived for purposes of pilpul.
[8] Rabbi Aaron Halevi, Sha‘arei ha-Yihud ve-ha-Emunah (Shklov, 1820), Part 1, Gate 1, chap. 21, note (f.51).
[9] Rabbi Jacob Emden, Mitpahat Sefarim (Altona, 1768), 35b-36a (i.e. 45b-46a).
[10] Mitpahat Sefarim 35b (i.e. 45b).
To the question of whether Ricchi himself was a crypto-Sabbatian, I devoted an entire chapter of my book Post-Sabbatian Sabbatianism (1999): “Immanuel Hai Ricchi—Literalist among Kabbalists.”
[11] Rabbi Shelomo Elyashiv, Helek ha-Bi’urim (Jerusalem, 1935), 3a-b. The letters of Rabbi Elyashiv to Rabbi N.H. Halevi Weidenbaum were published in Rabbi Moshe Schatz, Ma‘ayan Moshe (Jerusalem, 2011).
[12] Helek ha-Bi’urim, 5b.
[13] Mordechi Pachter, “The Gaon’s Kabbalah from the Perspective of Two Traditions” (Hebrew), in The Vilna Gaon and his Disciples (Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 2003), pp. 119-136.
[14] See Rabbi Menahem Azariah da Fano, Ma’amar ha-Nefesh, Part 2, chap. 4 in Ma’amrei ha-Rama mi-Fano (Jerusalem: Yismah Lev, 1997), p. 339; Rabbi Immanuel Hai Ricchi, Yosher Levav (Amsterdam, 1737), chap. 15 (10a), Rabbi Moshe Hayyim Luzzatto, Kalah Pithei Hokhmah (Koretz, 1785), petah 27 (31b); idem, Peirush Arimat Yadai in  Adir ba-Marom II, ed. Spinner (Jerusalem, 1988), p. 74; Rabbi Aaron Halevi Horowitz, Sha‘arei ha-Yihud ve-ha-Emunah (Shklov, 1820), Part 1, Gate 1, note to chap. 21 (43b-44a); Rabbi Isaac of Volozhin, “Ma’amar Be-Tzelem” (note to Nefesh ha-Hayyim, Gate 1, chap. 1) in Avinoam Fraenkel, Nefesh HaTzimtzum, vol. 2, p. 397; Rabbi Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook, Shemonah Kevatzim (Jerusalem, 2004), 2:120 (vol. 1, p. 284).
[15] Nefesh ha-Hayyim III, 6.
[16] Rabbi Immanuel Hai Ricchi, Yosher Levav (Amsterdam, 1737), chap. 15 (10a). Quoted in Nefesh ha-Tzimtzum, vol. 2, pp. 260-261. See also Fraenkel’s discussion of Ricchi’s position on pp. 63-71.


Publication of New Book, Kana’uteh de-Pinhas, by Seforim Blog Contributor, R. Bezalel Naor

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Publication of New Book, Kana’uteh de-Pinhas, by Seforim Blog
Contributor, R. Bezalel Naor
RABBI PINHAS HAKOHEN LINTOP (1852-1924)
Pinhas Hakohen Lintop, Rabbi of the Habad community of Birzh, Lithuania, was an intimate friend and colleague of Rabbi Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook. Their friendship began when Rabbi Kook served as Rabbi of Zoimel, Lithuania and later Boisk, Latvia, and continued even after Rav Kook immigrated to Erets Israel.
What Rabbis Kook and Lintop shared in common, was the belief that the knowledge of the “inwardness of Torah” (“penimiyut ha-torah”) contained the medicine for the spiritual malady of the generation. Both men attempted, each in his own way, to disseminate Kabbalah to the masses. For this, they came under criticism from their rabbinic peers.
Rabbi Lintop was unique in that he was one of only three major Lithuanian kabbalists in that country at the beginning of the 20th century: Solomon Elyashev, Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook, and Pinhas Hakohen Lintop.
The present book, Kana’uteh de-Pinhas (The Zeal of Pinhas) pivots on a hitherto unpublished letter of Rabbi Lintop to Rabbi Kook, then serving as Rabbi of Jaffa, Erets Israel. The lengthy letter consists of a detailed critique of the recent work of Rabbi Solomon Elyashev of Shavel (1841-1926), Hakdamot u-She’arim (Piotrkow, 1908), the first part of Rabbi Elyashev’s encyclopedic work of Kabbalah, Leshem Shevo
ve-Ahlamah.
While Rav Kook hailed Hakdamot u-She’arim as a supreme contribution to the wisdom of Kabbalah, Rabbi Lintop opposed the worldview contained therein, which as he pointed out, ran counter to both the teachings of Ramhal (acronym of Rabbi Moses Hayyim Luzzatto) and Habad (acronym of Hokhmah, Binah, Da’at, the school of Hasidism founded by Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi).
Much of the present work is an attempt to unpack Rabbi Lintop’s specific criticisms of Hakdamot u-She’arim, while in the process sharpening our understanding of the ideological touchstones that set apart the respective teachings of these three great kabbalists, Rabbis Elyashev, Kook and Lintop.
The book, in Hebrew with an abstract of a few pages in English, is replete with a photo of Rabbi Lintop, his final repose in Birzh, and facsimiles of the titles of his works and some of his manuscript letters, which are of historic interest for their description of conditions in Lithuanian Jewry in the first quarter of the twentieth century (especially their vivid description of the rapid acceleration of the process of secularization and decline of rabbinic authority in the aftermath of World War I). An appendix of the book discusses Rabbi Lintop’s critique of Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles of Faith, a controversial topic which of late has been the focus of several rabbinic and academic studies. (Of especial note is Marc B. Shapiro’s The Limits of Orthodox Theology: Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles Reappraised.)
Another appendix of the book is devoted to Rabbi Solomon E. Jaffe (1858-1923), Chief Rabbi of New York after the demise of Rabbi Jacob Joseph, and to the short-lived Rabbinical Seminary (Yeshivah la-Rabbanim) that Rabbi Jaffe headed in New York (1909-1910) during the temporary closure of Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary (RIETS), today the rabbinical seminary of Yeshiva University. Rabbis Jaffe and Lintop overlapped in the rabbinate of Vabolnik, Lithuania circa 1888 and maintained cordial relations even after Rabbi Jaffe relocated to the United States.
Kana’uteh de-Pinhas is available at Bigeleisen and also from R. Naor’s website, www.orot.com.


Rav Kook’s Missing Student

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Rav Kook’s Missing Student[1]
by Bezalel Naor
Recent years have seen a breakthrough regarding the elusive identity of “Monsieur Chouchani,” the mysterious vagabond who in the capacity of mentor, exerted such an incredibly profound effect upon the Nobel-laureate novelist Elie Wiesel as well as the philosopher Emmanuel Levinas in the post-war, post-Holocaust years in France. I am referring to the identification of Chouchani as none other than Hillel Pearlman, an early student of Rav Kook in his short-lived Jaffa Yeshivah.[2]
Pivotal to the identification (which we shall not enter into here) is a letter that Rav Kook penned from exile in St. Gallen, Switzerland to two students of the Yeshivah. We offer the letter in English translation:
With the help of God
6 Tishri 5676 [i.e., 1915]
A good conclusion[3] to my beloved soul-friends, each man according to his blessing,[4] the dear “groom,” the Rabbi, sharp and encyclopedic, crowned with rare qualities and character traits, our teacher Rabbi Hillel, may his light shine; and the dear “groom,” exceptional in Torah and awe of heaven, modest and crowned with rare character traits, Mr. Meir, may his light shine.
Peace! Peace! Blessing with abundant love.
My dear friends, for too, too long I delayed the response to your dear letter. In your goodness you will give me the benefit of the doubt. Only as a result of the preoccupation brought on by the pain of exile and the heart’s longing produced by the general situation (God have mercy), were things put off.
Many thanks to you, our dear Mr. Meir, for your detailed letter, whereby you deigned in your goodness to write to us in detail the state of our family members in the Holy Land, especially the state of the girls, may they live.[5] May the Lord repay your kindness and gladden your soul with every manner of happiness and success, and may we together rejoice in the joy of the Land of Delight upon the holy soil, when the Lord will grant salvation to His world, His land and His inheritance, speedily, speedily, soon.
And you, my beloved Mr. Hillel, all power to you for your dear words, upright words pronounced with proper feeling and the longing of a pure heart. We are standing opposite a great and powerful vision previously unknown in human history. There is no doubt that changes of great value are hidden in the depths of this world vision. There is also no doubt that the hand of Israel through the spirit, the voice of Jacob,[6] must be revealed here. Far be it from us to treat as false all the deeds and events, the longing for general life, that we experienced the past years. As much as they are mixed with impurities; as much as they failed to assume their proper form, their living description, their true life—we see in them in the final analysis, correspondence to the holy vision, unmistakable signs that things are happening according to a higher plan. The hand of the Lord holds them, to pave a way for His people, weary from its multitudinous troubles, and also for His world, crouching under the weight of confused life.
It is certainly difficulty at this time to trace which is the way of the process, but in this respect we may be certain: The terrible wandering of such great and essential portions of our nation residing in Eastern Europe, where the spiritual life of Israel is concentrated, and the necessity of rebuilding physically and spiritually new communities, educational institutions and Torah academies—will bring numerous new results, certainly for good. From those new winds that have been blowing in our world for the past half-century and more, something is to be derived, if we can purify them, erecting them upon foundations of purity and holiness. The opinions and longing for spiritual and physical building of Israel; the mighty desire of building the Land and the Nation, despite external and internal obstacles; the visions tucked away in the hearts of numerous thinkers to uplift the horn of Israel and its spirit, to bind together the strength of life with the sanctity of the soul, the talent of understanding with the depth of faith, immediate implementation with longing for salvation—all these are things that will bear fruit, and the Master of Wars, blessed be He, will grow from all of them His salvation.[7]
One thing we know for certain, that we are invited to great projects: philosophic projects; literary and publicistic projects; practical and social projects; projects at the interior of eternal life and projects of temporal and secular life; projects that remain within the border of Israel; and projects that overflow and touch the streams of life of the world at large and their many relations with the world of Israel, which was, is, and will be a blessing to all the families of earth,[8] as the word of the Lord to our ancestor [Abraham] in antiquity.
My beloved, I request that you write to us whatever is [happening] to you, your situation in detail, whether in spiritual or material matters; whatever you imagine might interest us, whether of private or public affairs. For all I will be exceedingly grateful to you, with God’s help.
I am your fast friend, looking for your happiness and success, and your return together with all our scattered people to the holy soil in happiness and success. May the Lord bless you with all good and extend to you peace and blessing and a good conclusion, as is your wish and the wish of one who seeks your peace and good all the days, longing for the salvation of the Lord,
Abraham Isaac Ha[Kohen] K[ook][9]
In order to understand the contents of the letter, the better to grasp the identities of its two recipients, we must first acquaint ourselves with the circumstances in which it was written.
For one decade, from 1904 to 1914, Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook served as Rabbi of the port city of Jaffa (precursor to Tel-Aviv). During those years in Jaffa he taught a select group of students in a yeshivah of his own making. (This yeshivah is not to be confused with the famous Yeshivah Merkaz Harav founded by Rav Kook in Jerusalem in the early 1920s.) In summer of 1914, Rav Kook set sail for Europe to attend the Knessiyah Gedolah or World Congress of the recently organized Agudath Israel movement. Due to the outbreak of World War One (on Tish’ah be-Av of that year), the conference was cancelled. Unable to return to Jaffa, Rav Kook remained stranded in Europe for the duration of the War, first in St. Gallen, Switzerland, where his needs were provided for by a sympathetic Mr. Abraham Kimhi, and later in London, where Rav Kook served as Rabbi of the Mahzikei Hadat synagogue in London’s East End.[10]
Much concerning the Jaffa yeshivah remains shrouded in mystery. No archive remains of this short-lived institution.[11] Thus we are pretty much left in the dark as to the curriculum,[12] enrollment, and even location. Fortunately, significant headway has been made in this direction in the recent article by Moshe Nahmani of the Yeshivat Hesder of Ramat Gan, “She’areha Ne’ulim—Yeshivat Harav Kuk be-Yaffo” (“Closed Gates—The Yeshivah of Rabbi Kook in Jaffa”).[13] Through painstaking research, the author was able to put together a list of students. Researchers had no difficulty identifying the “Hillel” of the letter as Hillel Pearlman. It was merely a case of “connecting the dots.”[14] But Nahmani was baffled by the “Meir” who is one of two co-addressees in our letter.[15]
I believe that I have solved the mystery of the missing Meir. In 1977, I was a visitor to the home of Rabbi Mayer Goldberg of Oakland, California. Rabbi Goldberg was a successful businessman (at that time in real estate) and a Jewish philanthropist, especially supportive of yeshivot or rabbinical academies. Rabbi Goldberg revealed to me that he had studied under Rabbi Kook in Jaffa.[16] He then went on to share with me a teaching of Rav Kook that I have since repeated on many an occasion. He said that before being exposed to Rav Kook’s teaching, the term “yir’at shamayim” (“fear of heaven”) had only a restrictive, narrowing connotation. Rav Kook explained the term in a totally different light. By the term “yir’at shamayim,” Rav Kook conveyed to his young listeners the vastness, the enormity, the infinitude of the universe.
Reading Moshe Nachmani’s article concerning Rav Kook’s yeshivah in Jaffa, and his bafflement as to the full identity of the student named simply “Meir,” I recalled my meeting with Rabbi Mayer Goldberg. I resolved that during my forthcoming visit to the East Bay area (as it has come to be known) I would meet with the late Rabbi’s children to learn from them more details of their father’s involvement with Rav Kook. What emerged from our discussion (conducted on February 14, 2013) is the following reconstruction of events.
Mayer Vevrick was born circa 1890 “near Kiev.”[17] At some time before World War One, Mayer boarded a ship from Odessa to Jaffa. In the words of his daughter Rachel Landes:
Once he arrived in Jaffa, he sought out the yeshiva of Rabbi Kook. Rabbi Avraham Kook was a world renowned scholar and it was there my father headed to study further. He became a “hasid,” a follower of the Rabbi, and thoroughly enjoyed his studies there. He lived in Rabbi Kook’s home.[18] He studied Talmud…with Rashi and the commentaries, for many hours a day with the other young men. These were the happiest days of his life, with uninterrupted Torah study, and the joy of learning with Rabbi Kook. Mayer adopted [Rabbi] Kook’s philosophy and was guided by it for the rest of his life.[19]
In World War One, Mayer left Jaffa for Egypt. There he was held by the British in an internment camp. Eventually, with some ingenuity, he was able to book passage on a boat to the United States.[20] Initially he resided on the East Coast. In Boston, he received a ketav semikha (writ of ordination) from Rabbi [Joseph M.] Jacobson. The semikha was written by Rabbi Jacobson on the spot in recognition of Mayer’s knowledge of Torah.[21] Later, Rabbi Mayer relocated to the West Coast, first to Washington State and finally to California.[22]
What becomes apparent from the letter of Rav Kook is that “Meir” remained in Jaffa after Rav Kook’s departure for Europe (followed almost immediately by the outbreak of World War One), and thus was in a position to give the Rav an update on the welfare of his daughters left behind in Jaffa. What also becomes apparent, is that in the Fall of 1915, “Meir” and his companion Hillel were no longer in the Land of Israel but somewhere else, for in his concluding remarks Rav Kook expresses the wish that they return to the Holy Land. This is consistent with Rabbi Goldberg’s biography, whereby he (along with countless other Jews of Erets Israel) was forced to flee the Holy Land at that time.[23]
This also coincides with the reconstructed biography of Hillel (Pearlman). Both students of Rav Kook, Hillel (Pearlman) and Meir (Goldberg) ended up in the United States in World War One. Whereas we are being told that Hillel (Pearlman) later left the United States for Europe and North Africa, reinventing himself as the mysterious “Monsieur Chouchani,” Mayer Goldberg remained in the United States.
Rabbi Mayer Goldberg passed away on September 25, 1992, a centenarian.[24] Shortly before his passing, Rabbi Goldberg had published in Jerusalem a collection of kabbalistic insights (culled from his marginalia in the books of his library), entitled Margaliyot shel Torah (Pearls of Torah). Much of the material in the book is attributed to the kabbalistic work Yalkut Reubeni.[25] My attention was riveted to an unattributed piece, which would appear to originate with Rabbi Mayer Goldberg himself:
In Exodus 2:12 we read that Moses slew the Egyptian (who was beating a Hebrew) and buried him in the sand. The Hebrew words are: “Vayyakh et ha-mitsri vayitmenehu ba-hol.”
Rabbi Goldberg observes that the word “ha-mitsri” (“the Egyptian”) has the same numerical value (gematria) as the word “Moshe” (“Moses”). In other words, Moses slew himself! The Rabbi then goes on to explain that what is truly conveyed by the verse, is that Moses slew the opinions of Egypt. Moses, growing up in the house of Pharaoh, had imbibed secular knowledge stripped of Godliness. So in other words, on a deeper level, what Moses was actually slaying was himself, or a part of himself that was thoroughly Egyptian in outlook. He then buried that secular learning devoid of Godliness “in the sand.” Here the Rabbi plays on the word “hol,”which may have another meaning beside “sand”: the secular. This is to say, Moses buried that tainted learning in the secular realm.[26]
Mayer Goldberg in youth:

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Rabbi Mayer Goldberg in rabbinic attire:
©2013 by Bezalel Naor
[1] The writer wishes to express his gratitude to Eve Gordon-Ramek and Robert H. Warwick, children of the late Rabbi Mayer Goldberg, for their invaluable contribution to the preparation of this article.
[2] Prof. Shalom Rosenberg, former Professor of Jewish Philosophy at Hebrew University in Jerusalem, who was present at the time of Chouchani’s death in Uruguay, was so convinced of the identification that he named his son “Hillel” after his revered master. See Moshe Nahmani, “Mi Kan Hillel,” Mussaf Shabbat, Makor Rishon, 3 Ellul, 5771 [2.9.2011]; Yair Sheleg, “Goodbye, Mr. Chouchani,” Haaretz, Sept.
26, 2003; Solomon Malka, Monsieur Chouchani: L’énigme d’un maitre du XXème siècle (Paris, 1994). Recently, a website has been devoted exclusively  to Chouchani. At www.chouchani.com we are told that a film is being produced of the life of Mr. Shushani!
I have two anecdotes to contribute to the growing literature on Chouchani, the first heard from Prof. Andre Neher (1914-1988), the second from Rabbi Uziel Milevsky (former Chief Rabbi of Mexico).
·
My dear friend Andre (Asher Dov) Neher z”l had been a distinguished professor of Jewish studies at the University of Strasburg. I knew him in his last years after his retirement to Jerusalem. Neher told me that in his youth, his father had hired Chouchani to teach him Talmud. At their initial meeting it was decided that they would study Tractate Beitsah. Chouchani said to the young Neher: “In the next hour I can either teach you the first folio of the Tractate, or sum up for you the entire Tractate!”
Similarly, in the final phase of Chouchani’s career (in Montevideo, Uruguay), Rabbi Aaron Milevsky (1904-1986), Chief Rabbi of Uruguay, hired Chouchani to tutor his young son Uzi in Talmud. Chouchani rewarded Uzi’s diligence by allowing him to quiz him on any entry in the dictionary. Uzi asked Chouchani for the Latin name of some obscure butterfly, which Chouchani was able to supply without hesitation! (Heard from Rabbi Nachum Lansky of Baltimore, shelit”a, quoting Rabbi Uziel Milevsky z”l.)
At the onset of this article I wish to clarify one point. Should the identification of Hillel Pearlman with “Monsieur Chouchani” one day prove incorrect, that would in no way affect the positive identification of Rav Kook’s addressee “Meir” as Rabbi Mayer Goldberg of Oakland, California. The identification of the mysterious “Meir” as Rabbi Meir Goldberg is in no way contingent upon the identification of Hillel Pearlman as “Chouchani,” but rather stands on its own merits.
[3] Traditional blessing for the New Year uttered between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.
[4] Cf. Genesis 49:28.
[5] While Rav Kook and his Rebbetzin (as well as their only son Tsevi Yehudah) were together in Europe, their daughters were left behind in Jaffa, and Rav Kook was most anxious as to their welfare. The family would not be reunited until after World War One, when Rav Kook returned from European exile to the Holy Land.
[6] Genesis 27:22.
[7] Allusion to the conclusion of the Yotser prayer recited in the morning service: “ba’al milhamot, zore’a tsedakot, matsmi’ah yeshu’ot” (“Master of wars, Planter of righteousness, Grower of salvations”). A year into World War One, Rav Kook already envisioned that the outcome of the War would be a shifting of the center of Jewish life from Eastern Europe elsewhere, as well as the further advancement of the building of the Holy Land.
[8] Genesis 12:3.
[9] Igrot ha-Rayah, Vol. III (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1965), Letter 740 (pp. 2-3).
[10] Mr. Jacob Rosenheim, organizer of the Knessiyah Gedolah, subsequently penned a letter of apology to Rav Kook, for by extending the invitation to him to attend the conference, Rosenheim had indirectly brought about Rav Kook’s misfortune.
[11] Moshe Nahmani posits that it existed for 6-7 years from 1909/10-1915.
[12] We do know that one subject on the curriculum, namely Kuzari by Rabbi Judah Halevi, aroused the ire of the Jerusalem zealot Rabbi Isaiah Orenstein. See my translation of Orot (Spring Valley, NY: Orot, 2004), p. 236, n. 169.
[13] Available on the website www.shoresh.org.il, dated 4/17/2012 or 25 Nissan, 5772.
According to Moshe Nahmani, the true reason that so little is known of this earlier yeshivah of Rav Kook is that Rav Kook himself suppressed publicity concerning its inner life, for fear that should word of the curriculum leak out, the yeshivah would come under attack from the ever vigilant rabbis of Jerusalem. (In fact, Rav Kook’s teaching of Kuzari to the students was sharply criticized by the zealous Rabbi Isaiah Orenstein of Jerusalem.) Nahmani believes that Rav Kook was dispensing the arcane wisdom of Kabbalah to the students—sufficient grounds for keeping publicity away from the yeshivah. (But the Kabbalah may not have been the standard Kabbalah as taught in Jerusalem. We know that one of the instructors in the yeshivah was Shem Tov Geffen (1856-1927), an autodidactic genius who fused the study of Kabbalah together with mathematics and physics.) Of course, this is speculation on Nahmani’s part. What is factual, is that Rav Kook taught in Jaffa the Kuzari of Rabbi Judah Halevi and Maimonides’ Eight Chapters (Maimonides’ introduction to his commentary to Tractate Avot or Ethics of the Fathers)—which in themselves represented a departure from the standard curriculum of the contemporary yeshivot.
[14] In one day, 26 Iyyar, 5675, Rav Kook sent two letters from St. Gallen to America (Igrot ha-Rayah, Vol. II [Jerusalem: Mosad Harav Kook, 1961], Letters 733-734 [pp. 329-330]). The first letter is addressed to Rabbi Meir Berlin asking that he lend assistance to Rav Kook’s student, newly arrived immigrant Hillel Pearlman. The second letter is addressed to Hillel Pearlman himself, expressing pain that he too was exiled from the Holy Land, and offering encouragement, as well as the practical suggestion that he establish contact with Rabbi Meir Berlin, and with Rav Kook’s staunch friend Dr. Moshe Seidel, who might be in a position to help. In a postscript Rav Kook, noting that Hillel Perlman had spent some time in the house after Rav Kook’s own absence, asks for details concerning the welfare of the two Kook daughters left behind in Jaffa, Batyah Miriam and Esther Yael. Logic dictates that our Hillel is Hillel Pearlman of the earlier letters. What eventually became of Hillel Perlman and whether he in fact “morphed“ into “Monsieur Chouchani” remains something of a mystery. See Moshe Nahmani, “Mi Kan Hillel?”
[15] “She’areha Ne’ulim—Yeshivat Harav Kuk be-Yaffo,” Part II, note 51. So too in Nahmani’s earlier article “Mi Kan Hillel?”
[16] He told this writer that before arriving in Jaffa from his native Russia, he had studied under the “Gadol of Minsk.”
According to the memoir of Rabbi Goldberg’s daughter, Rachel Landes, “My Father, Mayer Goldberg” (October 15, 2009), her father grew up in Krementchug, Ukraine. She also writes that at one point in his career, her father studied in a Yeshivah Gedolah under Rabbi Zimmerman. Though Landes does not specify that the Yeshivah was located in Krementchug (to the contrary she writes that the Yeshivah was in Kiev), one ventures a guess that this Yeshivah of Rabbi Zimmerman was actually that of Rabbi Abraham Isaac Halevi Zimmerman, Rabbi of Krementchug. The latter was the father-in-law of Rabbi Baruch Baer Leibowitz (famed student of Rabbi Hayyim Halevi Soloveitchik, known as “Rabbi Hayyim of Brisk,” and himself Rosh Yeshivah of Knesset Beit Yitzhak, first located in Slabodka, and between the two World Wars in Kamenetz) and grandfather of Rabbi Dr. Aharon Chaim Halevi Zimmerman (1915-1995), Rosh Yeshivah of Beit ha-Midrash le-Torah (Hebrew Theological College) in Skokie, Illinois. (Rabbi Dr. Zimmerman’s father, Rabbi Ya’akov Moshe Halevi Zimmerman was the son of Rabbi Abraham Isaac Halevi Zimmerman of Krementchug.) But again, this is mere conjecture on my part.
[17] According to Rachel Landes’ memoir, her father was born in Krementchug. In his Application for a Certificate of Arrival and Preliminary Form for Petition for Naturalization (1940), Mayer writes that he was born in “[illegible] near Kiev.” Mayer adopted the surname “Goldberg” in the United States.
[18] The fact that Meir (or Mayer) resided in the Kook home would explain how he was able to supply Rav Kook with information concerning the Rav’s daughters. Nahmani noted that Rav Kook had earlier asked Hillel Perlman for details concerning the girls, the assumption being that Hillel Perlman had resided in the Rav’s home (though that is not explicitly stated in Rav Kook’s letter to Hillel Pearlman). See Moshe
Nahmani, “Mi Kan Hillel?”
[19] Rachel Landes, “My Father, Mayer Goldberg” (2009), p. 2.
[20] According to Mayer Warwick Goldberg’s Application for a Certificate of Arrival and Preliminary Form for Petition for Naturalization (1940), he booked passage on a Greek steamship from Alexandria, Egypt to New York under the assumed name “Othniel Kaplan” in Spring of 1915 or 1916. Writing twenty-five years after the fact, Mayer could no longer recall the precise date, whether the arrival in New York had taken place in Spring of 1915 or Spring of 1916. We are in a position now to aid his memory. We know from Rav Kook’s letters to Rabbi Meir Berlin and to Hillel Pearlman, both datelined “St. Gallen, 26 Iyyar 5675,” that as of Spring 1915, Hillel Perlman was in America. In order for Rav Kook’s letter of 6 Tishri, 5676 to be addressed jointly to Hillel and Meir, Meir too would have had to reside in America by Fall of 1915. That could only be so if Meir (or Mayer) arrived in New York in Spring of 1915—not 1916!
[21] The fact that Rav Kook does not address Meir by the title “Harav” in the salutation (as he does Hillel) indicates that Meir was not yet an ordained rabbi in the Fall of 1915.
[22] According to information supplied in his 1940 Application for…Naturalization, Mayer resided in New York City and Brooklyn from 1916 to 1917; in New Haven and Colchester, Connecticut from 1917 to 1919; in Seattle and Tacoma, Washington from 1919 to 1922; in San Francisco from 1922 to 1930; and in Oakland from 1930 to 1940.
[23] To quote from Rachel Landes’ memoir (p. 2): “…World War I broke out. The Turks, who were in control of Palestine, sided with Germany, and Russia was on the side of the Allies. My father, being from Russia, found himself classified as an enemy alien. The Turks began to round up all foreign nationals. It became clear that my father could not stay there.”
[24] At the 24th Annual Banquet of the Hebrew Academy of San Francisco, held on Sunday, December 6, 1992, a moving tribute was paid to the recently departed Rabbi Mayer Goldberg.
[25] Yalkut Reubeni (Wilmersdorf, 1681), by Reuben Hoshke HaKohen (Sofer) of Prague (died 1673), is a kabbalistic collection on the Pentateuch.
[26] Rabbi Mayer Goldberg, Margaliyot shell Torah (Jerusalem, 5750), p. 112. The Hebrew original reads:
ויך – 36 כמנין ל”ו כריתות [משנה, כריתות א, א], משה כרת את המצרי, כרת את החיצונים, ויטמינם בחולין. המצרי שהרג משה – הדעות של מצרים שמשה למד, חיצוניות בלי אלוהות –הרג וטמן בחולין, כי מש”ה בגימטריא המצר”י.

 



Israel ben Shabtai [Hapstein]. ‘Avodat Yisrael – Book review by Bezalel Naor

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Israel ben Shabtai [Hapstein]. ‘Avodat Yisrael (B’nei Berak: Pe’er mi-Kedoshim, 5773 / 2013). 66, 738 pages. 
Reviewed by Bezalel Naor 
Rabbi Israel ben Shabtai Hapstein, the Maggid of Kozienice (or more commonly, the “Kozhnitser Maggid”) (d. 1814) was a major figure in the third generation of East-European Hasidism founded by Rabbi Israel Ba’al Shem Tov, and specifically, a towering luminary within Polish Hasidism. Like his contemporary Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liozhno (and later Liadi), Rabbi Israel studied under Rabbi Dov Baer, the Maggid of Mezritch (who led the Hasidic movement after the death of the founder, Ba’al Shem Tov). Unlike Rabbi Shneur Zalman, whose school of Hasidism, Habad, continues to this very day, Rabbi Israel founded no school and has no hasidim, no followers to speak of, today. 
The same goes for Rabbi Israel’s book. Whereas Rabbi Shneur Zalman’s most famous work, Tanya, has earned the sobriquet (at least among Habad Hasidim) “the written Torah of Hasidism” (“torah she-biketav shel hasidut”), relatively few have studied Rabbi Israel’s magnum opus, ‘Avodat Yisrael (Service of Israel), a commentary on the Pentateuch. Indicative of neglect in this respect, until today the book has been an example of poor typography. First published in 1842, ‘Avodat Yisrael has been reissued periodically with pitifully broken letters of “Rashi” script (today unfamiliar to Hebrew readers without rabbinic training). About now the cognoscenti will chime in, “Afilu sefer torah she-be-heikhal tsarikh mazal” (“Even a Torah scroll in the ark requires luck”) and “Habent sua fata libelli” (“Books have their fates”). 
Thankfully, this horrendous situation has now been remedied. Enter Pe’er mi-Kedoshim, a publishing concern headed by Rabbi Israel Menachem Alter, son of the present Rebbe of Gur. Pe’er mi-Kedoshim has committed itself to re-issuing the classic texts of Hasidic thought in deluxe, state-of-the-art editions. The Kozhnitser Maggid’s ‘Avodat Yisrael is the premier volume in a series envisioned to include: Degel Mahaneh Efraim by Ba’al Shem Tov’s grandson, Rabbi Moses Hayyim Ephraim of Sudylkow (next on the agenda); No’am Elimelekh by Rabbi Elimelekh of Lizhensk; Zot Zikaron by Rabbi Jacob Isaac Horowitz (the “Seer of Lublin”), et cetera. 
The book displays all the benefits that the modern age of Hebrew printing has brought to the sacred realm. The cursive “Rashi” script has been replaced by the square characters familiar to every Hebrew reader, which have then been provided with vowel points and modern punctuation. Sidebars caption the highlights of the Maggid’s comments. Footnotes reference sources in rabbinic and kabbalistic literature, as well as cross-referencing to parallel passages in the Maggid’s own works. As is customary, the book is preceded by “Toledot” (Biography) of the Author, and followed by “Maftehot” (Indices). (At present these indices are purely topical. It is hoped that in the future there will be included an index of the works cited by the Maggid, which will allow students of his thought a glimpse of his library, and the horizon of his intellectual and spiritual world.) 
Quoting the Psalmist, “Who can understand errors?” (Psalms 19:12), the Editors have encouraged readers to offer constructive criticism, including pointing out errata in the present printing. Let us take them up on their kind offer. 
In Parashat Bereshit, end s.v. vayyasem H’ le-Kayin ‘ot (6a), the Maggid observes “that there are times when miracles are performed by the Other Side, as we find in the Gemara, and in the Midrash, Parashat Toledot, that through Arginiton miracles were performed for Rabbi Judah the Prince and his companions, and the Omnipresent has many emissaries.” Where the Maggid alludes to an unspecified “Gemara,” the Editors have supplied within the text itself, within parentheses, “Me’ilah 17b.” If one consults the text of that passage in the Talmud Bavli, one discovers that it concerns miracles wrought by Ben Temalyon (name of a demon) for Rabbi Shim’on ben Yohai during his mission to Rome. When offered the demon’s help, rather than rebuffing him, Rabbi Shim’on resigned himself to accepting his intervention by saying: “Yavo’ ha-ness mi-kol makom.” (“Let the miracle come from any place.”) This statement of Rabbi Shim’on is similar in tenor to the Maggid’s conclusion: “Harbeh sheluhim la-Makom.” (“The Omnipresent has many emissaries.”) 
Clearly, the Editors have read the text of ‘Avodat Yisrael in a disjointed fashion, interpreting that the “Gemara” and the “Midrash, Parashat Toledot” refer to two different stories. My own reading of the situation is that the “Gemara” and the “Midrash, Parashat Toledot” refer to the identical story whereby Rabbi Judah the Prince and his companions were spared the imperial wrath of Diocletian through the intervention of the demon Arginiton (or in the version of the Yerushalmi, “Antigris”). The “Gemara” of course is not the Gemara Bavlit, but rather the Gemara Yerushalmit, and the reference is to the Talmud Yerushalmi at the end of the eighth chapter of Terumot. I rather like my suggested reading for two reasons. First, we are told in the biographical introduction to the book that Rabbi Hayyim of Volozhin attested that the Kozhnitser Maggid was “familiar with Talmud Yerushalmi” (“baki be-Shas Yerushalmi”) (p. 30). Second, in recent years, the Hasidic court of Gur has expended great energy in promoting the study of the hitherto neglected Talmud Yerushalmi, so I believe it especially appropriate that the edition of ’Avodat Yisrael under the guidance of Rabbi Israel Menachem Alter shelit”a offer this alternate solution to deciphering the Maggid’s cryptic reference to “the Gemara.” 
In Parashat Shemot, beginning s.v. ve-sham’u le-kolekha (91a), the Maggid writes that Moses was confronted with a conundrum. On the one hand, he was pressing for some kind of divine assurance that his mission to Egypt be crowned with success and that the Hebrews indeed hearken to his voice. On the other hand, he was concerned that by its very nature a divine guarantee would rob the Hebrews of their free will, forcing them into belief. The assumption is that the Hebrews were redeemed from Egypt in the merit of their faith or emunah. (See Exodus Rabbah, Beshalah [parashah 23] playing on the words “tashuri me-rosh Amanah” [Song of Songs 4:8].) It is a tribute to the originality of the Kozhnitser Maggid that while most Biblical commentators busied themselves with the philosophic problem of God’s hardening the heart of Pharaoh, thereby depriving him of the free will to respond affirmatively to the divine demands, the Maggid explored in the opposite direction the problem of preserving the Hebrews’ free will to disbelieve. The Maggid’s solution to the problem involves some rather esoteric doctrines of Kabbalah, namely “hanhagat gadlut” (“governance of greatness”) versus “hanhagat katnut” (“governance of smallness”), best left for the adept in Jewish mysticism. I would just point out for the record that the Editors missed a cue here. When the Maggid writes “’Ve-hen’ she-hu ahat,” he is clearly referencing the Talmud Bavli, Shabbat 31b: “She-ken bi-leshon yevani korin la-ahat ‘hen’.” (“Hen in Greek is one.”) 
In the section for the festival of Shavu’ot, s.v. u-Moshe ‘alah el ha-Elohim (200a), the Maggid writes: “Since all Israel prepared themselves for the sanctity of the Lord, and a leader is commensurate to his generation, therefore Moses was able to ascend above.” Now the crucial words, the key to understanding this thought, “u-parnas lefi doro” (“and a leader is commensurate to his generation”), have been emended by the Editors to: “kol ehad le-fi koho” (“each according to his ability”). Granted that in the old edition there was some fuzziness concerning these words (“u-parush lefi doro”), but they could still be made out simply by correcting “u-parush lefi doro” to “u-parnas lefi doro,” a well-known Hebrew adage. In the present version, one is at a loss to glean the Maggid’s meaning. (I see now that the wording “kol ehad lefi koho” does occur in the Warsaw 1878 edition of ‘Avodat Yisrael. Unfortunately, the edition I possess is without place or date. Unable to locate a copy of the editio princeps of 1842, I have no way of knowing which version occurs there.) 
In Parashat Mas’ei, end s.v. eleh mas’ei b’nei yisrael (240a), in regard to Tish’ah be-Av, the Maggid discusses the difference between the “batei gava’ei” (“inner chambers”) and the “batei bara’ei” (“outer chambers”), alluded to by the Rabbis in TB, Hagigah 5b. The Maggid’s remarks in this passage are consonant with what he wrote elsewhere in Ner Israel, his commentary to the Likkutim me-Rav Hai Gaon (2a): “In the outer chambers there is sadness and mourning, but for one who is able to ascend to the inner chambers, to the will of the Creator, blessed be He, certainly there is happiness.” (By the way, the kabbalists’ reading of the passage in Hagigah, while opposite Rashi’s, coincides with the version of Rabbenu Hananel. See Rabbi Solomon Elyashev, Hakdamot u-She’arim [Piotrkow, 1909], sha’ar 6, chap. 6, “avnei milu’im” [24b-27b].) 
In Parashat Devarim, end s.v. eleh ha-devarim (246a) there is a quote from Rabbi Isaac Luria’s commentary to the Idra Zuta. The Maggid supplies the exact page number: folio 120. The problem is that the passage does not occur there. The Editors have left the reference in the text untouched. At least in a footnote we should be told that the quote may be found in Rabbi Jacob Zemah, Kol ba-Ramah (Korets, 1785), 122a. (I am indebted to my dear friend Prof. Menachem Kallus for the correct address.) See also Rabbi Hayyim Vital, Sefer ha-Derushim (Jerusalem, 5756 /1996), 214 (left column); and Rabbi Shalom Buzaglo, Hadrat Melekh, 139a. 
In the section for Tu be-Av, s.v. meyuhasot she-bahen (256b-257a), the Maggid writes that there are times that ki-ve-yakhol (as it were), God so delights in Israel that He becomes as a young man (bahur). The Maggid writes that he has dealt with this in his commentary to the line in Avot (beginning Chap. 6), “Barukh she-bahar bahem u-be-mishnatam.” As the Editors point out, the comment is not to be found in the Maggid’s remarks on Avot. Instead, they refer us to a parallel passage in Re’eh, s.v. ve-hineh ha-Midrash (270a). By the same token, they might have referred us to Ner Israel (commentary to Likkutim me-Rav Hai Gaon), 4b: “Ve-nikra bahur ka-arazim…” 
In the section for Rosh ha-Shanah, there is a lengthy kabbalistic homily, the thrust of which is that on that day we ask the Holy One, blessed be He, to reinvest himself in the particular role of “Elohei Yisrael” (“God of Israel”). “The God of these [Jews] is asleep.” Which is to say, [the nations] were not foolish enough to assert that the Sibat Kol ha-Sibbot (Cause of All Causes) is in a state of slumber, only “the God of these [Jews],” in other words, this particular hanhagah (governance) referred to as “Elohei Yisrael” (the God of Israel) is in a state of sleep…and unconsciousness, and there is but “Elaha de-Elahaya” (the God of Gods). Based on this, you will understand the kavvanot (mystical meditations) of Rabbi Isaac Luria for Rosh Hashanah. We awaken Him with the shofar (ram’s horn). (‘Avodat Yisrael, 290b) The Editors duly noted the reference to Rabbi Hayyim Vital, Peri ‘Ets Hayyim, Sha’ar ha-Shofar, chap. 1. But what they should have noted is the following reference which would have been even more instructive: “Now in the days of Mordecai was the mystery of the time of dormita of Zeir Anpin, and the mystery that Haman said ‘There is (yeshno) one people spread and separated among the peoples’ [Esther 3:8]. The Rabbis, of blessed memory, commented on the word ‘yeshno,’ that Haman alleged ‘their God is asleep.’” (Rabbi Hayyim Vital, Sha’ar ha-Purim, beginning chap. 5) The Holy Maggid loaded the kavvanot of Purim on to the kavvanot of Rosh Ha-Shanah! 
The Kozhnitser Maggid was a preeminent halakhist (specializing in heter ‘agunot, permitting wives of missing husbands to remarry), kabbalist, thinker (penning commentaries to the works of Maharal of Prague), and statesman. With all that, the following anecdote sent a shiver down my spine: The Kozhnitser Maggid was on friendly terms with several prominent members of the Polish nobility. In the eighteenth century, Poland, dismembered and subjected to a tripartite division—whereby Prussia annexed the western portion of Poland; Austro-Hungary annexed Galicia in the south; and Russia annexed the east—simply ceased to exist. A certain Polish nobleman importuned the Maggid to intercede with Heaven on behalf of the Polish nation. The gentleman would not leave the Maggid’s home until promised Polish independence. Finally, the Maggid foretold that at a time in the future Poland would once again be a sovereign nation—for a span of “three shemitin” (three sabbatical cycles or 21 years). When the Jews of Warsaw were being subjected to aerial bombardment by the Luftwaffe in September of 1939, they recalled the Maggid’s prediction. In the aftermath of World War I, in 1918 to be precise, Poland once again declared its independence. Three shemitin had passed from 1918 until 1939. Warsaw capitulated to the Nazis on the eve of Sukkot, the yahrzeit of the Kozhnitser Maggid! This anecdote was told by a witness to Warsaw’s destruction, Rabbi Joseph Friedenson, editor of Dos Yiddishe Vort, the Yiddish magazine of Agudath Israel of America (“Toledot,” p. 37).