Parshanut: English Translations of Medieval and Modern Rabbinic Bible Commentary (Exegetical, Philosophic, Kabbalistic and Hasidic)

Yisrael Dubitsky*

Moritz Steinschneider’s Indecent Burial
Charles H. Manekin
University of Maryland, College Park / Bar Ilan University

What sort of recognition has posterity accorded to one of the great scholars of Judaism, arguably the greatest of the nineteenth century? Sadly, Steinschneider’s contribution to the history of Jewish literature in all its aspects has gone virtually unnoticed outside a small circle of scholars. If he is remembered at all, it as a cold, antiquarian scholar who reportedly said that “the task of Jewish studies is to provide the remnants of Judaism with a decent burial.” This is the portrait, or better, caricature, of Steinschneider drawn by Gershom Scholem in his well-known diatribe against Wissenschaft published in 1945.[3] Scholem, an ardent zionist, viewed Steinschneider and his mentor Zunz as “gravediggers” and “liquidators” of the Jewish national values that they considered no longer relevant after the advent of emancipation and liberalism. Scholem’s negative evaluation of Steinschneider’s scholarly motivation and outlook in no way implied a disparagement of the nineteenth-century scholar’s achievements. On the contrary, Scholem writes in the Hebrew edition of his memoir From Berlin to Jerusalem “Despite the enormous distance I felt from the men of the [Wissenchaft] group, I revered Steinschneider and pursued his works, major and minor, as well as off-prints of his articles, all of my life.”[4] He also relates that as a university student, his familiarity with Steinschneider endeared him to his teacher, and later doktorvater, the great scholar of scholastic philosophy, Clemens Bäumker. I come here not to praise Steinschneider, but rather to bury him more decently than did Scholem. To do so I will sketch a preliminary picture of his contribution to the ideology of Wissenschaft des Judentums that is less biased than the polemical one offered by Scholem. I say “preliminary” because Steinschneider made few theoretical statements on the subject of Wissenschaft. His views on that subject, like on so many others, must be gleaned from his voluminous writings and correspondence. For over a century articles on Steinschneider have begun with a call for a full-fledged intellectual biography of the man. That call has not yet been answered. Steinschneider’s principal reflections on Wissenschaft are found in his short essay, Die Zukunft der jüdischen Wissenschaft, published in1869, a half-century after Zunz had issued his programmatic-statement on Etwas über die rabbinische Literatur.[5] The science of Judaism during the last fifty years, writes Steinschneider, was motivated externally by the struggle for emancipation and internally by the desire for religious reform. Scholars thought that examining the Jewish achievements of the past would pave the way for greater acceptance of the Jews in the present, and would provide models and precedents for modernizing the religion. In recent years, a third motivation for Wissenschaft has been proposed, namely, the training of modern rabbis, and a modern rabbinical seminary in Breslau had been opened. But as important as these practical motivations were, they do not address other fundamental questions: “What about Jewish history and literature as a link and source of history and cultural history in general? Is it a part of theology? What will become of it if the universities, according to the Dutch example, leave theology as a practical science to the care of the various religious communities?” “Where and how should this academic study be conducted — in Jewish communal institutions or in German universities? “Where will it find its support — in the community or the government?” Although Steinschneider’s expressed intent was merely to raise these questions, his personal opinions are not hard to infer from his article. The task of scholars of Judaism is to investigate their subject as objectively as possible, without ideological tendencies, and in its intellectual and historical context, i.e., as connected with other cultures. This sort of study can be conducted best only in universities, not in the faculty of theology, whose focus is narrowly religious, but in the faculty of philosophy, i.e., the humanities. Jewish religious seminaries, even modern ones, are primarily interested in the training of rabbis; they focus almost exclusively on areas of importance to Jewish theology, and their students and faculty are exclusively Jewish. Jewish studies within the framework of even the most enlightened seminary cannot be free and independent. Who should support Wissenschaft? Steinschneider implies that this is an obligation for the state and not for the Jewish community, not only because of the general importance of exploring civilization’s past — after all, the state supports scientific research into the pyramids and the ruins of Pompeii — but because “the spirit that created the great works of Jewish literature is still alive in the citizens of their state.” This is an interesting argument which refutes, by the way, the view of Steinschneider as a curator of a dead or dying religion. For he seems to be implying that the state has a special obligation to support the research and teaching of subjects that inform the identity, even the group identity, of minorities within the state. In fact, there should be no difference in principle between minority and majority cultures. According to Steinschneider — again, by implication — as long as the state supports the education of Christian teachers of religion, it has the obligation to support Jewish teachers of religions, through supporting Jewish seminaries. Certainly Steinschneider was aware that the likelihood of the German state supporting the teaching of Jewish history and literature in universities, much less Jewish religion in seminaries, was remote. In fact, not a single chair devoted to Jewish history or literature was established in German universities until well after World War II. He was also aware that private money — Jewish, of course — would have to be found to support academic Jewish studies. In a letter written to his friend, the historian Meyer Kayserling in 1876, in which he refused Kayserling’s offer of a position at the Budapest Rabbinical Seminary, he writes, It seems to me that the task of our times is to prefer the endowment of untenured instructorships in Jewish history and literature in the philosophy faculties, thereby compelling the authorities to establish professorships and schools in which regular high school students can be prepared for the study of Jewish literature. We certainly do not want boarding schools in which bachurische clumsiness, impoliteness, and beggarliness is preserved and glossed-over.[6] The last statement reveals Steinschneider’s prejudices against the Eastern European yeshiva students who made up a good proportion of the students at the rabbinical seminaries. The aims of Wissenschaft required the proper preparation of students in high schools. For this Jewish donors had to be found. In the same letter Steinschneider claims that his principled opposition to Jewish Studies outside the university did not conflict with his own association with the Veitel Heine Ephraimschen Leharanstalt (Beth ha-midrasch), the old school of the Berlin Jewish community. Steinschenider was a part-time lecturer for nearly fifty years for that institution, which counted Jews and Christians, including Paul Lagarde, Georg Hoffman, and Hermann Strack, among its students. The school was open to all, its faculty all had university doctorates, and it did not confer doctoral degrees. Steinschneider had declared publicly that he would resign were it to offer a single doctorate.[7] Steinschneider did not address a question that has remained with us to this very day, namely, why wealthy Jewish individuals would wish to endow instructorships in Jewish history and literature at German universities, where the return to the Jewish community was neither immediate nor guaranteed. Perhaps he thought that he could get others to share his own passion for the study of what he called the “international literature of the Jews,” e.g., works of philosophy, science, medicine, and belles-lettres. After all, his teaching had been supported, in part, by the Berlin Jewish community for half a century. And, to my knowledge, at this stage of his life he expressed neither pessimism nor apprehension about the future of the academic study of Judaism. Nor is there any support, at least to my knowledge, for the strange idea that Steinschneider became progressively detached from Judaism culture or religion, or that he saw its inevitable assimilation into secular culture. Steinschneider remained throughout his adult life a liberal Jew whose ideals were those of the enlightenment and the revolution of 1848, in which he took part as a student. In the remarkable credo that makes up the Foreword to one of his last works, Die Arabische Literatur der Juden, he lashes out against those who use the insufficiency of reason, “this weapon of all kinds of unreason,” to justify “the forcing of myths in new clothes or of monstrosities of fantasy, let alone the clinging to institutions of fake authority or to obsolete customs.”[8] Given that this line follows a reference to the zoologist Ernst Haeckel, it is clear that Steinschneider is taking aim against the myths of racial supremacies, which he felt had replaced the myth of religious supremacies. His reference to the “obsolete customs of religion” reaffirmed his decades-long abandonment of orthodoxy, nothing more. But nothing in the Forward suggests a weakened commitment to Judaism per se, not even the claim that “it is the task of whoever feels entitled to lead the sum [of society] to stress what is common to the different circles of mankind, to point towards the ‘one Father of us all’ – towards what brings human beings nearer to each other.”[9] Steinschneider expresses these sentiments in a book chronicling the Jewish literature that was dearest to his heart, that of the Jews living in Muslim lands. After characterizing Ashkenazic Jewish life as one of “segregation in government, trade and society; expulsion, inquisition, agitation, and persecution” and Ashkenazic Jews as possessing “a surplus of mental acumen, squandered in casuistic and hermeneutical quibbles, faith and superstition linked to each other like Siamese twins,” he writes in an intensely personal passage, The historian likes to direct his attention to places where a human existence was granted to the tolerated subject, an existence in which his spirit was allowed to soar above and beyond the national barriers towards the highest existential questions. Such a person believed to have attained already on earth the ideal of human thought, the conjunction with the active intellect.[10] Steinschneider strongly identified with a literature that was not confined by the narrow parochialism of a national culture. He was under no illusion that such a literature was representative of Judaism, much less than it constituted its “essence.” With his unparalleled knowledge of Jewish books, he knew precisely what its place had been. But it was a literature with which he felt a strong personal affinity, and which reinforced the Jewishness of his commitment to liberalism and universalism, at a time when the growth of nationalism and antisemitism had made him pessimistic. As for Steinschneider’s alleged comment that it is the task of scholars to provide the remnants of Judaism with a decent burial, it has not been found in his writings, but was attributed to him in a necrology published shortly after his death in the German zionist periodical Jüdische Rundschau by the young orientalist Gotthold Weil, who had recently been one of Steinschneider’s students.[11] Weil had participated in the short-lived zionist “National-jüdische Verein der Hörer an der Lehranstalt für die Wissenschaft des Judentums in Berlin,” which numbered among its members Arthur Biram, Judah Magnes, and Max Schloesinger.[12] An active zionist leader in Germany, he later came to the Hebrew University of Jerusalem after the Nazis dismissed him from his post as professor of oriental literature at the university of Frankfurt. The context of Steinschneider’s reported comment is a discussion that Weil conducted with Steinschneider about the latter’s alleged proto-zionistic activity in his youth, when he supported Jewish colonization in Palestine as a possible solution for anti-Jewish discrimination in Germany. One imagines that this was a topic of considerable interest among Steinschneider’s zionist students, considering the elderly scholar’s open antagonism towards zionism. According to Weil, Steinschneider admitted to participating in a scheme in the1830’s to further the colonization of persecuted German Jews in Palestine. But he felt that the events of 1848 obviated the need for a separatist political solution to the Jewish problem. According to Steinschneider, Weil informs us, the history of the Jews had ceased in 1848 and that as a result, “the only task we have left is of giving the remains of Judaism a decent burial.”[13] It is easy to see how political zionists like Weil and Scholem would see an offhand comment as an epitaph for Jewish people as a nation; according to Scholem, “a breath of the funereal did in fact cling to the atmosphere of this discipline for a century; occasionally there is something ghostlike about this literature.”[14] They interpreted Steinschneider as holding that Jewish national existence was rendered obsolete by political emancipation, and that assimilation was inevitable and desirable. But there is no indication from Steinschneider’s writings that the scholar felt that the end of Jewish history, or for that matter, the extinction of the Jews as a “nation” had occurred in 1848, or that it was inevitable or even desirable. True, political emancipation had at least in principle removed the necessity for the Jews to segregate themselves in their own land in order to escape persecution. But almost fifty years later Steinschneider would write that the Jews indeed constituted a nation, in the original meaning of that word…united, at least thus far, by an ideal fatherland and Scripture reaching back into their remotest antiquity…We affirm, in fact, that the concept “Jewish” cannot be understood merely in terms of dogmas and rituals, but that the entire Jewish cultural evolution must be viewed as a mirror of the underlying religious and moral ideas and national convictions.[15] It was not the history of the Jews that ceased in 1848, according to Steinschneider, but the history of the Jews as an entity that required a political solution in its own state. He considered anti-Jewish discrimination not to be a Jewish problem but rather a human problem that should be solved within the confines of the modern liberal state. What Steinschneider increasingly detested was the romanticism, sentimentality, and separatism that he found in nationalism in general and zionism in particular. Not a great admirer of nationalism to begin with — according to Weil, he would occasionally say that “Nationalism is brutality; humanity is freedom and truth” — he never missed an opportunity to show his despisal of romantic Jewish nationalism, even in the oddest of places. Thus in his great work on the Hebrew translations of the Middle Ages, while mentioning that Judah ha-Levy had been driven to emigrate to Palestine by a somewhat mystical — another disparaging term for Steinschneider — national sentiment, he adds in a footnote that the Hungarian scholar David Kauffman, “der Apologet von Daniel Deronda,” called such an attraction “realistic.”[16] This was a disparaging reference to Kaufmann’s enthusiastic review of George Eliot’s proto-zionistic novel that Steinschneider had sharply criticized.[17] The reference, completely out of place in a footnote on translations of Halevy, showed how passionate this supposedly cold, rationalist scholar could be on the subject of Jewish national revival. Steinschneider’s ironic remark to his student Weil on the task of scholars of Wissenschaft is best seen within the context of his deeply rooted antipathy towards zionism, as well as his opposition towards tendentious scholarship of all sorts. The task of Jewish scholarship, he wished to say, is not to serve the interests of Jewish political interests, national or otherwise. “My intention,” he wrote in 1902 “is the most objective and historical portrayal possible, neither apologetically nor polemically painted, nor nationally or theologically prepared.”[18] Steinschneider intended to produce an objective scholarship possible that avoids apologetics, polemics with Christians, nationalism, and theology. Given this antipathy, his comment to Weil was perhaps intended to preach the gospel of independent scholarship. Although his students may have thought that the task of Wissenschaft was to help revive the spirit of the nation, Steinschneider did not. Given his negative views of Graetz,[19] it is not difficult to see how he would have viewed the excesses of the Jewish nationalist historians of the twentieth century. But this explanation of Steinschneider’s comment seems inadequate. For there are many ways to emphasize the virtues of objective scholarship without using the image of death and burial. Why did he employ this particular phrase? Perhaps his remark should be read as an ironic appropriation of Samuel Raphael Hirsch’s attack on Wissenschaft des Judentums. Hirsch wrote that the scholars of Wissenshaft keep alive the memory of the old Judaism as it is carried to its grave; in another metaphor of death, he called Wissenschaft “the fine dust wafting from the stone coffins of moldering corpses.”[20] Steinschneider was a master of the ironic retort. Perhaps he was saying to his student Weil, “Just as Hirsch and the orthodox have said, we are burial societies — let’s at least make sure that the burial is an honorable one.” On the other hand, Steinschneider may have been genuinely pessimistic about the future of the Jews in Germany, not because of assimilation, but because of the steep rise of antisemitism in the last two decades of the nineteenth-century. In 1893 he writes “The history of the daughter religions is a constant series of attempts to murder their own mother; if one of them ever succeeds, the crime will bring down the criminal.”[21] Nine years later he commented dryly on a historical pamphlet written by a Prussian gymnasium teacher that calls on Germany to emulate the example of Spain and Portugal and expel its Jews. “The self-appointed historian wisely omits that the brutality of the mob was aroused not only by bull fights but by the live burnings of hundreds of Jews and apostates.”[22] Steinschneider feared German nationalism, according to Weil. Perhaps he felt that the remains of Judaism deserved a decent burial because the Jews themselves were in for difficult times from antisemitism. But these are mere speculations. It is futile to read too much into the sarcastic quip of an aged scholar, which, if reported accurately, was never intended for publication. Can there be anything more indecent than having this comment serve as the summation of Steinschneider’s attitude towards the academic study of Judaism, or the task of its scholars? It is not surprising that both neo-Orthodox Jews like Hirsch and secular Zionists like Scholem assigned to the practitioners of Wissenschaft the role of gravediggers of Jewish nationalism.[23] If their visions of the Jewish nationalism were not only mutually exclusive but exhaustive, then it is a role that Steinschneider would have accepted willingly. But his vision of the Jewish nation was different from theirs. It is ironic that in articulating the differences between the visions of Wissenschaft “now” and “then,” Scholem reaffirmed much of the vision of Steinschneider – not of Steinschneider the “gravedigger,” but of Steinschneider the advocate of an open, unapologetic, and untendentious scholarship that only a university-setting could enable. Steinschneider would indeed have been pleased with the establishment of centers of the academic study of Judaism, such as the Institute of Jewish Studies at Hebrew University, where, in Scholem’s words, “everyone is free to say and to each whatever corresponds to his scholarly opinion without being bound to any religious (or anti-religious) tendency.”[24] After all, Steinschneider was the most consistent advocate of the idea that Jewish studies can only flourish in such an atmosphere. Scholem also reaffirmed Steinschneider’s distaste for nationalist history when he noted with regret that “the heritage of an apologetics in reverse, an apologetics which now, so to speak, has revised everything in terms of zionism, has produced notable examples in our scholarly work.”[25] Steinschneider consistently opposed apologetic scholarship of all kind. In sum, what connects the scholarship of Steinschneider and Scholem seems vastly to outweigh the differences, once we have adjusted the scale to allow for changing tastes and fashions in scholarship. The view of the Jewish people as a living and organic phenomenon was no doubt foundational in Scholem’s scholarly approach, but the growth in Jewish studies in the second half of the twentieth century had more to do with the sociology, economic abilities, and changing identities of the Jewish communities than with the growth of Jewish national consciousness. More to the point — if the “antiquarian” scholarship of the nineteenth century had given way to the “scientific and empirical” scholarship of the twentieth – both of Scholem’s phrases seem a bit quaint today – the reason was not because of Jews had undergone a national revival, but because scholarly tastes and methods had changed. Steinschneider’s scholarly approach was no more “antiquarian” than that of contemporary orientalists like LeClerc, Wenrich, or Wüstenfeld; just as Scholem’s scholarly approach was shaped by his intellectual training and cultural context. One shouldn’t make judgments about the scholarship of a bygone age by using contemporary fashions as a yardstick. The presence of university-trained scholars in the history of medieval Jewish culture and history would have pleased Steinschneider greatly, even more so when he learned that some of the leading scholars are not Jewish. One suspects that here too Scholem would agree. Notes: This post for the Seforim blog — dedicated to Dan Rabinowitz’s weekly shiur following hashkamah minyan at his local synagogue — is based on my article, “Steinschneider’s ‘Decent Burial’: A Reassessment,” Study and Knowledge in Jewish Thought Vol. I., ed., Howard Kreisel (Jerusalem: Mossad Bialik, 2006), 239-251. [1]Some of the correspondence has recently been published. See Briefwechsel mit seiner Verlobten Auguste Auerbach, 1845-1849: ein Beitrag zur jüdischen Wissenschaft und Emanzipation, eds., Marie Louise Steinschneider and Renate Heuer (Frankfurt/New York, 1995). The longest biographical treatment is still Alexander Marx, “Moritz Steinschneider,” in his Essays in Jewish Biography (Philadelphia, 1947), 112-184. Marx has a very useful bibliography on pp. 294-95. For a list of Steinschneider’s writings, see George Alexander Kohut, “Bibliography of the Writings of Professor Dr. Moritz Steinschneider,” in Festschrift zum Achtzigsten Geburtstage Moritz Steinschneider’s (Leipzig, 1896), v-xxxix. Steinschneider’s secretary, Adeline Goldberg, published additions to the bibliography in Zeitschrift fur hebräische Bibliographie 5 (1901): 189-91; 9 (1905): 90-92; 13 (1909): 94-95. [2] Die Arabischen Überzetungen aus dem Griechischen (Leipzig, 1897) and Die Europäischen Übersetzungen aus dem Arabischen (Graz, 1956). See D. Gutas, Greek Thought, Arabic Culture: The Graeco-Arabic Translation Movement in Baghdad and Early ‘Abbâsid Society (2nd-4th/8th-10th centuries) (London/New York, 1998), p. 195: “There is as of yet no modern bibliographical survey of the Arabic translations of all the Greek philosophers; Steinschneider’s Die Arabischen Überzetungen aus dem Griechischen remains the only single treatment.” [3] “Mi-tokh hirhurim al hokhmat yisrael” in Devarim be-go (Tel Aviv, 1975), pp. 385-405. This celebrated essay was published first in Luah ha-Arez and republished several times during Scholem’s lifetime. It has recently been translated into English by Jonathan Chipman as “Reflection on Modern Jewish Studies,” in On the Possibility of Jewish Mysticism in our Time and Other Essays, ed. A. Shapira (Philadelphia and Jerusalem, 1997), pp. 51-71. Scholem, who planned to publish a similar critique in Walter Benjamin’s journal in the early 20’s, returned to the same issue several times during his career, notably in “Wissenchaft vom Judentum einst und jetzt” (see n. 14 below) and “Hokhmat yisrael ve-yahadut” (“The Science of Judaism and Judaism,” which was printed in German, English, and Hebrew, in Perspectives of German-Jewish History in the 19th and 20th Centuries (Zur Geschichte der Juden in Deutsch-land im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert), the proceedings of a symposium on Jewish studies organized by Ephraim Urbach (Jerusalem, 1971) and reprinted in ‘Od Davar (Tel Aviv: Am Oved, 1989), pp. 143-5. For an assessment of the impact of Scholem’s zionism on his scholarship, see Daniel Abrams, “Presenting and Representing Gershom Scholem: A Review Essay,” Modern Judaism 20:2 (2000): 226-243. [4] Mi Berlin li-Yerushalayim (Tel Aviv, 1982), p. 141. This and most other comments about Steinschneider are not in the original German edition of the memoir, from which the English translation was made, but appear in the expanded German edition of the book based upon the Hebrew translation. See Von Berlin nach Jerusalem, trans. Michael Brocke and Andrea Schatz. Erweiterte Fassung (Frankfurt am Main, 1994), p. 148. Scholem’s enthusiasm for Steinschneider also earned him the favor of Prof. Aaron Freimann, who had served as librarian of the Judaica collection of the Frankfurt municipal library, and who had been Steinschneider’s student (Hebrew: 184, German: 193). One cannot but wonder why Scholem decided to add to the Hebrew version of his book several anecdotes testifying to his admiration for Steinschneider. [5] Hebraeische Bibliographie 9 (1869), pp. 76-78. A partial translation is offered by J. Hessing and P. Mendes-Flohr in Paul Mendes-Flohr and Jehuda Reinharz, The Jew in the Modern World: A Documentary History, Second Edition (New York and Oxford, 1995), pp. 230-2. I cite from that translation here, with slight emendation. [6] “Die Aufgabe unserer Zeit scheint mir vorzugsweise die zeitweileige Dotirung von Privatdocenten für jüd. Geschichte und Literatur an den Philosophischen Fakultäten, damit die Regierungen zur Errichtung von Professuren getrieben werden und Lehranstalten in welchen regelmässige Gymnasiasten sich für das Studium der hebr. Literatur vorbreiten können. Nur keine Internate, in welchem bachurische Unmanier, Unbeholfenheit und Bettelhaftigkeit in ihrem Dünkel erhalten und beschönigt werden. See Alexander Marx, “Steinschneideriana II,” in Jewish Studies in Memory of George A. Kohut, eds. Salo W. Baron and Alexander Marx (New York, 1935), pp. 492-527, esp. p. 521. [7] Ibid, p. 521. [8] Die Arabische Literatur der Juden (Frankfurt a. M., 1902), p. ix. [9] Ibid., p. x. [10] Ibid., p. viii. [11] No. 6, February 8, 1907, pp. 53-5. [12] See Yehuda Eloni, Ziyyonut be-Germaniyah mi-Reishitah ‘ad 1914 (Tel Aviv, 1991), p. 372 n. 55. [13] “Wir haben nur noch die Aufgabe die Ueberreste des Judentums ehrenvoll zu bestatten,“ p. 54. [14] See Scholem’s German Essay in the Bulletin of the Leo Baeck Institute 3 (1960):10-20; Hebrew version in De’ot 4:19 (1961), pp. 8-9, rept. in ‘Od Davar (Tel Aviv: Am Oved, 1989), pp. 136-142; English trans. by Michael Meyer in The Messianic Idea in Judaism and Other Essays on Jewish Spirituality (New York: 304-313.) The quotation is from Meyer’s translation on p. 307. [15] See Hebraeische Bibliographie 2 (1859): 82-83 (Steinschneider’s review of M. Kayserling’s Sephardim: Romanische Poesien der Juden in Spanien), as translated by S. Baron in, “Steinschneider’s Contributions to Historiography,” in Alexander Max, Jubilee Volume (New York, 1950), 83-148, esp. 90-1. [16] Die Hebraeischen Übersetzungen des Mittelaters und die Juden als Dolmetscher (Berlin, 1893), p. 402 n. 227. [17] Baron, “Steinschneider’s Contributions,” p. 135. [18] Die Arabische Literatur der Juden, p. viii. [19] Baron, “Steinschneider’s Contributions,” pp. 119-120. [20] See, for example, “Die Trauer des 9. Av,” Gesammelte Schriften (Frankfurt am Main, 1902), vol. 1, pp. 130-1. A partial translation is offered by J. Hessing in Paul Mendes-Flohr and Jehuda Reinharz, The Jew in the Modern World, pp. 234-5. [21] Die Hebraeischen Übersetzungen des Mittelalters, p. xxiv. [22] Die Arabische Literatur der Juden, p. x, n. 1. [23] The similarity between the neo-Orthodox and Zionist critique is noticed by Mordecai Breuer in “Three Orthodox Approaches to Wissenschaft” (Hebrew), in the Jubilee Volume for R. Joseph Dov Soloveitchik (Jerusalem/New York, 1984), vol. 2, pp. 856-60, esp. p. 857. [24] “The Science of Judaism – Then and Now, ” trans. Meyer, p. 310. [25] Ibid., p. 312.

Recently a new sefer hit the stores called ספר קושיות. The publisher, Rabbi Yaakov Stal, is well known, having already established his name with his editions of two seforim by ר’ יהודה החסיד one called ספר גימטריאות and another called אמרות טהורות חיצוניות ופנימיות. Like his previous works, once again he has done a great job. I would like to discuss his latest book a bit.

While Rabbi Stal was working on his various projects a friend introduced him to a recently discovered manuscript which was in the form of questions and answers. His interest raised, he immediately began working on editing it for print. Unfortunately, when he was close to finishing the sefer, another more complete manuscript was found forcing him to go through the whole volume again comparing, correcting, and adding the additions. (A third manuscript has been located, but he was not able to see it as it resides in a private collection). The result of all this labor is this beautiful sefer titled ספר קושיות.

The author of the קושיות is unknown, but based on various ways of identifications he seems to be from the time period of the תלמידים of the מהר”ם מרוטנברג thus dating the book to approximately the 14th century. The way this was deduced was by examining which works the author quotes. Not finding any quotes later than the רא”ש, it can be assumed that the author is from the same era. Along these lines, Rabbi Stal composed a list of all sources quoted by name thereby showing that the author had been heavily influenced by חסידי אשכנז, thus giving the reader yet another clue as to the identification of the author

The idea of the sefer, in short, is explanations of accepted halakhot and minhagim as well as various מדרשים ואגדות. These explanations are all posed in the form of questions and answers. Some of the answers are very simple; straightforward quotes from the Gemara; others are more interesting, questions that no one else discusses. The range of topics is amazing; there are 392 questions and answers some of the 392 topics include a few parts. The topics are about many areas such as תפילה, שבת יום טוב, קבורה, מילה and נישואין.

While some of the topics the author does not add much to what has already been said by earlier sources, many times he adds interesting points. There are also many things that Rabbi Stal could not find any similar sources to (I will give examples soon). All in all, this sefer is very interesting and easy to go through, many of the topics are things many people are curious about. The sefer comes included with an extensive index; with just a quick perusal one is appraised to the many interesting topic there are in the sefer.

I would like to give a partial list of some of the things found in this volume; just to give one a taste of this wonderful work.

First, in the area of מנהגים that we have other sources for include: wearing white on שבת (pg 24), covering the knife during ברכת המזון (pg 73), how many נרות one should light ליל שבת (pg 85), candles by the חתונה (pg 209), the order how one should cut his fingernails (pg 130) and burning the לולב with the חמץ (pg 168).

Second, topics that, as of now, this sefer is the only source for include: hitting the עדים during the קידושין (pg 8), putting ashes on ones head ערב תשעה באב (pg 136), signs how to tell if an animal is כשר (pg 190), that a חתן should not go to the בית הקברות during שנה ראשונה (pg 206) and if one is sitting in the bathroom and hears someone learning he has to cover his ears (pg 221).

In other areas there are many gems of great interest such as אברהם was מגייר הגר before marrying her (pg 270). Another point of interest is a discussion of the sources for the names of the months (pg 75-79). (I really would like to include much more but I want to save some of these gems for the reader to see himself.)

The footnotes are beautiful; Rabbi Stal attempts to reference almost everything relevant to the topic discussed in the body of the text. He provides the בעל הקושיות sources, and expounds on what the בעל הקושיות is trying to add. He includes all the cross-references in חז”ל through the help of the Bar Ilan Responsa program (which he uses expertly). He also cross-references all the ראשונים who deal with these topics; here we can see Rabbi Stal’s great knowledge and בקיאות in many ראשונים not searchable on any computer program to date. One can only find this by going through these seforim and indexing the מציאות as he finds them. He does the same with theפיוטים and נוסחות התפילה quoted by the author; all annotated against the best editions printed to date. Aside from this, Rabbi Stal has beautiful discussions on many topics, such as whether persons in גיהנם rest only on שבת or on Yom Tov as well, (pg 59), why the תפילה והוא רחום was written (pg 27-31) and why one should use הדסים for בשמים (pg 38).

Another point of interest worth mentioning are the many nice points provided from Prof. Simcha Emanuael, a recognized authority in the field of unknown manuscripts. Many of these points are from otherwise unknown sources in manuscripts.

It is often stated that it’s much easier to criticize someone else’s efforts rather than doing so oneself. Further, in this case critique was particularly difficult, as (Full Disclosure:) Rabbi Stal is also a good friend. Still, I would like to point out two issues with his work on this sefer.

A point I feel lacking is that while at times he does the reader the favor of referencing articles on the topics that the ספר קושיות discusses, many times, however, he failed to reference relevant articles. For example, when discussing the topic of fasting during אלול he quotes extensively from the classic article of Professor יעקב גרטנר (pg 49) but when talking about the מנהג of throwing wheat on theחתן (pg 174) he fails to mention the extensive article by ר’ בנימן המברגר in שרשי מנהג אשכנז (volume 3, pp. 392-429). There are two answers why Rabbi Stal did not quote this article. One, unfortunately when he works he does not have all his seforim in front of him. Two, had he quoted all of the interesting sources on each topic, this sefer would have been 1000 pages long, so he had to cut down the sources. This leads me to the next criticism; the length of the notes.

While talking with ר’ שמואל אשכנזי regarding this sefer he mentioned the following point. The footnotes although they are good and very interesting many times the same exact thing could have been written shorter. He said that we find this ability to write in an exact way was very hard even many ראשונים did not have this ability such as ר’ שמואל בן חפני גאון הר”י ברצלנוני and the אברבאנאל. The most famous person who excelled at writing very little and including everything in his words was רש”י. The main reason why Rabbi Stal did not do such is simple editing takes a lot of time (more time than writing lengthier) which he wants to use to put out more works. So in the end, the lengthy footnotes could have been better served by including more material but at the same time careful editing.

What follows is an original contribution by noted scholar Benjamin Richler to the Seforim blog. Any typographical errors are my fault alone. — Dan

Biographical blurb: Benjamin Richler was born in Montreal, graduated from Yeshiva University in 1960 and from the Hebrew University Graduate Library School in 1963. From 1965 to 1995, he served as the Librarian at the Institute of Microfilmed Hebrew Manuscripts at the Jewish National and University Library, on the Givat Ram Campus of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. From 1995-2005, he was the Director (now retired) of the Institute. His books include Hebrew manuscripts, a treasured legacy (Cleveland-Jerusalem 1990); Guide to Hebrew Manuscript Collections (Jerusalem, Israel Academy of Sciences, 1994); The Hebrew Manuscripts in the Valmadonna Trust Library (London 1998); Hebrew manuscripts in the Biblioteca Palatina in Parma (Jerusalem 2001); Catalogue of the Hebrew Manuscripts in the Vatican Library, edited by Benjamin Richler (in preparation, to be published in 2007). His three dozen articles (in Hebrew and English) include: “Isaac Abravanel’s ‘lost’ commentary on Deuteronomy,” in Jewish Studies at the Turn of the Twentieth Century I (1999), 199-204; “Resources for the study of Tosafist literature at the Institute of Microfilmed Hebrew Manuscripts,” in Rashi et la culture juive (1997), 383-392; “Rabbeinu Tam’s ‘lost’ commentary on Job,” in The Frank Talmage Memorial Volume I (1993), 191-202; “The scribe Moses ben Jacob Ibn Zabara of Spain; a Moroccan saint?” in Jewish Art, 18 (1992), 141-147; “Manuscripts of Moses ben Maimon’s ‘Pirke Moshe’ in Hebrew translation,” in Koroth 9:3-4 (1986), 345-356; “Resources for the history of medicine at the Institute of Microfilmed Hebrew Manuscripts,” in Koroth 8:9-10 (1984), 407-413; “A Hebrew paraphrase of the Hippocratic Oath (from a fifth-century manuscript),” in Medical History 22:4 (1978), 438-445 (with S. Kottek).

The manuscripts in the collection of the great bibliophile Heiman (Hayyim) Joseph Michael (1792-1846) were purchased in 1848 by the Bodleian Library in Oxford University. One of the manuscripts [1] was described by Adolf Neubauer in his Catalogue of the Hebrew Manuscripts in the Bodleian Library (Oxford 1886), no. 1265 as:

מורה דרך commentary on the 1st part of the Moreh han’N’bokhim by Gershom. …He quotes R. Abraham Broda and מהר’ לובלין (f. 8). For the enumeration of the author’s books in his preface, see Steinschneider’s מפתח האוצר, p. 324.[2]

Steinschneider listed the following works by the author, Gershon[3]: דבר הלכה; בדי שולחן on Shulchan Arukh; חיקור דין responsa; דבר תורה on the Torah ; מאמר אסתר on Megillat Esther; דבר הגדה on the Haggadah; מליצת עיקרים on the 13 Principles of Faith and extracts and sermons.

Most of these works are not recorded in any bibliography, and the full name and identity of the author remained a mystery to Steinschneider.

Another manuscript in the Jewish National and University Library, MS Heb. oct. 711[4], contains commentaries on the Torah, Ruth and Eikhah (Lamentations), based on philosophical and scientific perspectives. The anonymous author quotes Moses Mendelssohn and Copernicus, among others. He mentions several other books he composed, including some of those listed in his preface to מורה דרך , namely מאמר אסתר and דברי הגדה as well as משאת הגרשוני on the 13 Principles of Faith – perhaps another title for מליצת עיקרים on the 13 Principles listed above – as well as commentaries or novellae on the Prophets, Moreh Nevukhim and others. One of the works he mentions is a sermon titled אבל יחיד. The author mentions an explanation he heard from Rabbi Avraham Tiktin, the dayyan of his community ושמעתי פי’ … מהגאון מה’ אברהם טיקטין אב”ד קהילתינו. Needless to say, none of these other sources are recorded in bibliographies.

We can now establish that our author, Gershon, was a pupil, of R. Avraham Tiktin, or at least a resident of the same city in which R. Tiktin officiated. R. Avraham b. Gedaliah Tiktin (1764-1820), was a Rabbi in his birthplace Schwersenz (Polish: Swarzedz) near Posen (Poznan), then in Lenshits (Leczyca) and from 1803 in Glogau and from 1816 until his death in Breslau. We can assume, then, that Gershon resided in one of these communities. Which one? The answer is supplied by a manuscript in the Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati, MS 646, a copy of אבל יחיד, the sermon mentioned in the JNUL manuscript. It contains a 24 page eulogy (“hesped”) on R. Avraham Tiktin written or composed in Schwersenz on the eve of Rosh Hodesh Shevat 5581=January 3, 1821 by גרשון היילפרין or היילפרון (Gershon Heilprin or Heilpron).

A search for other works by the author listed in the Oxford and Jerusalem manuscripts revealed a manuscript in the Jewish Theological Seminary – University of Jewish Studies (Országos Rabbiképzo Intézet – Zsidó Egyetem) in Budapest titled משאת הגרשוני. It is a curious work based on the Thirteen Principles of Moses b. Maimon and its 169 folios include a Fourteenth Principle that incorporates all the other principles and contains a critique of Kant’s theories on the soul. It also includes some explanations of passages in Moreh Nevukhim, on difficult verses in the Bible and a commentary on the piyyut “Ehad Mi Yodea” in the Passover Haggadah. One section התילדות המשפחה deals with the the practice of assigning family surnames and delves into gynecology quoting physicians from Heraclitus until contemporary experts. He describes the wonders of the microscope and relates how a physician in Danzig showed him the sperm of a rooster under a microscope (f. 14r). There are a few poems by the author with the acrostic Gershon b. Meir, that establish the name of the author. The title page reads:

חלק ראשון מספר משאת הגרשני הוא מאיר עינים לאמונת והדיעות האמיתית מוסד על שלשה עשר העיקרים מהרמב”ם ז”ל, יוסף עליו עיקר הארבע עשר הכולל כל העיקרים ונקרא … עיקר הכולל בו אמצא ויכוח עם החכם קאנט בענין השארות הנפש … והראיתי מקורה ממקום נורא נקרא מקור הפילסופיאה … והוספתי התילדות המשפחה ותפארת אדם ופירש על כמה מאמרי ספר המורה להרמב”ם ז”ל וספר המידות לאריסטו … ומאמרי חז”ל הנאמרים בדרך חידה ומשלים … גם מהדברים המוקשים ביותר בתורה ובנביאים ודע מה שתשיב לאפיקורס .

Additional information about the author is found in an inscription by his son, Pinchas Heilbronn, on the title page in which he adds the date of his father’s death, 9 Heshvan 5629=October 25, 1868 אמר פינחס בן מ”ר גרשון הילבראנן ניפטר ט חשון תרכ”ט.

We have now identified the author of these four manuscripts, Gershon b. Meir Heilprin or Heilbronn. We can assume that since he studied under R. Avraham Tiktin or audited his lessons in Schwersenz where Tiktin officiated until ca. 1800 when Gershon was in his late teens or older, that Gershon was born around 1780-1785 and lived well into his eighties, residing for most or all of his life in Schwersenz. On the basis of the cross references to his works in the various manuscripts we can date them approximately. מורה דרך is perhaps the earliest of his works to survive, though by the time he wrote it he had already composed four or five other books or essays. אבל יחיד was composed in 1821. משאת הגרשני is mentioned in the compilation in the Jerusalem manuscript which is the latest composition of Gershon’s extant. If משאת הגרשני on the 13 Principles is the same work on the Principles entitled מליצת עיקרים in the Oxford manuscript then it should be considered the earliest work by Gershon to survive.

The figure that emerges from his extant writings is one of a talmid chacham, or at least of one fairly well-versed in Bible, Talmud and the writings of the Rambam with leanings towards the haskalah. He is familiar with some of the works of Aristotle and the teachings of Kant, though we cannot know if he read Kant in German or if his knowledge is from second-hand sources. He is interested in the sciences and has at least an elementary understanding of biology, astronomy and geography. Yet he remains an enigma. Apart from these four manuscripts no other details about Gershon Heilprin have surfaced. If he was so little known, why should Heiman Michael acquire a manuscript of his? Michael obviously acquired the manuscript before his own death in 1846. Was he offered the manuscript for sale? Did he purchase it because he considered it a worthwhile addition to his collection or did Gershon send it to him hoping to receive a generous donation? Likewise, we do not know how the other manuscripts reached the libraries in Budapest, Cincinnati and Jerusalem that now preserve them. It is ironic that so many unpublished works by better known rabbis and scholars did not survive the ravages of time and the Holocaust while four manuscripts by an otherwise unknown personality remained intact and are kept in libraries on three continents.

This detective work could not have been accomplished without a union catalogue of all the Hebrew manuscripts in the world. While no such tool encompasses 100% of all existing Hebrew manuscripts, there is available on the internet a catalogue that describes over 90% of this corpus, namely the catalogue of the Institute of Microfilmed Hebrew Manuscripts in the Jewish National and University Library in Jerusalem.

For over fifty years the Institute has been collecting microfilms of Hebrew manuscripts and its present holdings of 75,000 manuscripts together with the 8,000 original manuscripts deposited in the Jewish National Library represent an estimated 90-95% of all known Hebrew codices.

In the near future, I hope to write another entry at the Seforim blog about the Institute of Microfilmed Hebrew Manuscripts in the Jewish National and University Library in Jerusalem.

Sources:
[1] MS Mich 126, listed as no. 658 in the posthumous catalog of his library אוצרות חיים (Hamburg 1848).
[2] The reference is to Moritz Steinschneider’s appendix on manuscripts אוצרות חיים (Hamburg 1848).
[3] Neubauer called him Gershom, but Steinschneider called him Gershon.
[4] There is no record in the Jewish National Library concerning prior provenance or from whom the manuscript was acquired. We can assume that it was acquired in the early 1930’s. The catalogue of Hebrew manuscripts in the Library by B.I. Joel, רשימת כתבי-היד העבריים … (Jerusalem 1934), describes octavo manuscripts numbered 1-719, but, strangely, omits no. 711, even though the manuscript was in the Library by 1934.

A Puzzling Passage in a Book Intended for Jewish Children, with a Tentative Bibliography of ספרי קודש that Treat the Mitzvah of Answering “Amen”
Shnayer Leiman

In 2004, an anonymous book entitled Serenade the King appeared in print.[1] Addressed primarily to a young audience, it is an anthology of inspirational stories that focus on one teaching only: the importance of answering “Amen.” The stories are accompanied by photographs of the great Jewish sages mentioned in them, and by short inserts, mostly quotations from famous rabbis emphasizing the significance of answering “Amen.” Letters of approbation (in Hebrew) from distinguished rabbis appear at the beginning of the book, encouraging prospective buyers to acquire the book.

On p. 240, the following short insert appears:

Failure to Answer Amen Desecrates Hashem’s Name

Failure to respond Amen to a beracha that one hears is equivalent to actually cursing Hashem, and the punishment for one who is guilty of this sin is equal to the punishment that one who curses Hashem receives.

There is no greater desecration of Hashem’s Name than the desecration caused by not answering Amen to a beracha, particularly if the beracha was recited in public. In fact, if it was recited before ten men, the hearer is obligated to sacrifice his life rather than not answer Amen!

Whereas Serenade the King prints mostly inspiring stories, here we have a halakhic ruling — and an astounding one at that. Ordinarily, there are only three instances where a Jew is obligated to lay down his life (i.e., allow himself to be killed) rather than commit a violation of Jewish law. These are: idolatry, murder, and sexual immorality. Thus, if a Jew is ordered to kill an innocent person, or be killed, he must refuse the order and allow himself to be killed, if no other options present themselves. The above rule applies primarily when the violation of Jewish law is in the private domain. But if the violation takes place in the public domain, i.e., in the presence of ten or more Jews, then one needs to examine the motivation of the person issuing the illegal order. If the purpose is to force the Jew to abandon his faith, then the Jew must be prepared to lay down his life rather than violate any mitzvah of the Torah. If the purpose is for the personal pleasure of the person issuing the illegal order, then the Jew is obligated to violate the law and stay alive, except in the cases of idolatry, murder, and sexual immorality. In a period of general persecution of the Jews, one is obligated to lay down his life even if ordered to violate a mere customary practice of the Jews. Even in those instances where a Jew is obligated halakhically to violate the law and stay alive, there are some halakhic authorities who rule otherwise. They allow a Jew the option to lay down his life (rather than violate a Jewish law and remain alive) in instances other than the three exceptions listed above. All halakhic authorities agree, however, that the Jew — in those instances — is not obligated to lay down his life. Thus, a Jew who is ordered at gun-point to eat non-kosher food or be killed, must violate Jewish law and remain alive (according to some halakhic authorities), or may refuse to do so and die (according to other halakhic authorities), but he is not obligated to refuse to eat the non-kosher food. In instances where the Jew is ordered by the enemy to take no action (e.g., not to recite the obligatory prayers or not to wear tefillin), the obligation to lay down one’s life is virtually non-existent.

Thus, R. Moshe Isserles rules:[2]

The rules apply only if they order him to violate a negative commandment. But if they issue a decree against observing a positive commandment, he need not observe it and be killed. But if the circumstances require it, and he wishes to observe it — knowing that he will be killed — it is permissible for him to do so.

Similarly, R. Mordechai Jaffe rules:[3]

All the above applies only when they order him to violate a negative commandment, so that when he violates it he must engage in an act that violates the Torah. But if they decreed in a persecution that one may not fulfill a positive commandment, one is not obligated to fulfill it and be killed. This is because complying with the decree does not require an act of violation of the Torah; one can simply cease and desist and comply with the decree. Moreover, the enemy can force him to violate the law against his will, by either imprisoning him so that he will be unable to perform any of the commandments, or by depriving him of his tzitzit or tefillin so that the specific mitzvah cannot be performed. Therefore, let it go unperformed and let him not be killed. Nonetheless, even in this case, if he chooses to be stringent and to observe the commandment — even though he knows that he will be killed — he may do so. He is not considered as one who brings injury upon himself, for this too is an act of piety and fear of G-d, and a sanctification of G-d’s Name.

In the light of the above, it is astonishing indeed that Serenade the King rules that it is obligatory to lay down one’s life when ordered not to answer “Amen” to a blessing recited before ten men. At best, it may be permissible to lay down one’s life in such a case; it is certainly not obligatory according to the Shulhan Arukh.[4]

To the best of our knowledge, no such ruling appears in the Babylonian or Jerusalem Talmud, or in any of the halakhic codes, whether Rif, Rambam, Tur, or Shulhan Arukh. Indeed, the ruling appears to contradict the Shulhan Arukh, i.e. the R. Moshe Isserles passage cited above. So we were curious as to the source of this ruling in Serenade the King. One did not have to look very far. At the bottom of the insert, the source is clearly given as: Keser Melucha, page 284. It turns out that Serenade the King is simply an English version of an earlier work in Hebrew entitled שירו למלך, Jerusalem, 2002, also addressed primarily to a young audience.[5] The anonymous author of both books, apparently a reputable rabbinic scholar in Jerusalem, drew most of his material from an earlier work of his entitled כתר מלוכה, Jerusalem, 2000.[6] It is a comprehensive anthology in Hebrew of talmudic, midrashic, medieval, and modern sources relating to the mitzvah of answering “Amen” — and it is addressed to adults. [There is a rich literature, especially in Hebrew, on this topic. Since we have not seen a bibliographical listing of such books, we have appended to this essay a tentative bibliography of books in Hebrew that treat the mitzvah of answering “Amen.”]

Turning to page 284 of כתר מלוכה, one discovers that the source of the insert is: מנח”א י”א ב. Since neither Serenade the King nor כתר מלוכה contain bibliographies or lists of abbreviations, some readers will experience difficulty deciphering the abbreviation.

Amateurs attempting to decipher the abbreviation will doubtless suggest that it stands for מנחת אלעזר, the classic collection of responsa by the late Munkatcher Rebbe, Rabbi Hayyim Eleazar Shapira (d. 1937). But the responsa in that collection are always referred to by volume and by the number of the responsum (e,g., IV:19), never by page number (e.g., 11b). More importantly, our passage does not occur on p. 11b (or anywhere else) in any of the printed volumes of מנחת אלעזר.

While leafing through the pages of כתר מלוכה, it became apparent to me that מנח”א (cited throughout the volume) was itself an anthology of sources on the significance of answering “Amen.” It was a simple matter to peruse the titles of all previous anthologies on the significance of answering “Amen,” and to see which one had a title that matched the abbreviation in כתר מלוכה. The only volume to do so was R. Yehudah Leib Rogalin’s מנחיל אמונה, Poltava, 1913.[7] And sure enough on p. 11b, there appears the full text of the passage summarized in כתר מלוכה.

The passage reads:

וכמו ששכרו של העונה אמן כמה דאצטריך אין ערך ושיעור וכמובא במדרשי חז”ל, כמו כן להיפוך חלילה עונש של האינו עונה אמן, וכמובא גם כן שבאמת הוא ניאוץ וחירוף וגידוף כלפי מעלה, אלא שזה בשב ואל תעשה, אבל עונשו שוה למגדף בפועל שזה בזיון למלך הכבוד דמי שלא חש לכבד את המלך בעת שנותנין לו כבוד הוא בזיון גדול אין דגמתו, ואינו דומה מי שאינו נותן כבוד למלך למבזה ברכת המלך, וברבים הוא חילול שם שמים בפרהסיא, ובעשרה מישראל מחוייב למסור נפשו על זה מקל וחומר, שאם הוא מחוייב למסור נפשו לקדש שם שמים בפרהסיא, כל שכן שמחוייב למסור נפשו שלא לחללו, ואין לך חילול שם שמים גדול מזה שלא חש לאמן ברכותיו של המברכו וגורם שברכת המברך יהיה חלילה כברכת שוא, עיין מכילתא (משפטים ס’ כ”ג) משום ר’ אלעזר וכו’. ומכאן אזהרה למי שרואה את חבירו שאינו עונה אמן אחר השליח ציבור שמחוייב לגעור בו בנזיפה יהיה מי שיהיה, דבמקום שיש חילול השם אין חולקין כבוד.

The claim, while certainly interesting, will hardly persuade most halakhists.[8] In any event, this is surely a matter for Gedolei Ha-Poskim to decide, and not the authors of treatises on the importance of answering “Amen.” One wonders whether such a halakhic decision — of life and death import — should appear in a children’s book. Heaven forbid that a child be put to the test, and instead of consulting a posek, he will rely on the ruling of Serenade the King that “the hearer is obligated to sacrifice his life rather than not answer Amen.” One wonders whether the rabbis who wrote letters of approbation for Serenade the King also gave their approval to this ruling. If not, perhaps we need to rethink what a letter of approbation really means.

Notes:

1] Serenade the King, Jerusalem: Vehagisa, 2004. The book’s spine bears the imprint of Feldheim’s Books.

2] Shulhan Arukh: Yoreh De’ah 157:1.

3] Levush Ateret Zahav 157:1.

4] For possible support for the halakhic ruling in Serenade the King, see the sources cited in R. Hayyyim Yosef David Azulai, Birkei Yosef, Yoreh De’ah 157, paragraph 2, ד”ה הגהה

5] See שירו למלך, Jerusalem: Vehagisa, 2002.

6] כתר מלוכה, Jerusalem: Makhon Mayim Hayyim, 2000. An earlier and much abridged preliminary version of כתר מלוכה appeared in print with no place and no date on the title pages. It appears to have been published in Jerusalem, circa 1998.

7] The volume was published without הסכמות. On Rogalin, an accomplished rabbinic scholar who served as rabbi of Alexandrovsk in the Yekaterinoslav province from circa 1888 until 1913, see S.N. Gottlieb, אהלי שם, Pinsk, 1912, p. 9.

8] It will not persuade most halakhists for a variety of reasons, including the fact that the קל וחומר suffers from a serious פירכא. Indeed, a person may be obligated to lay down his life rather than actively commit a violation of Jewish law (under the right set of circumstances, as outlined above). But this cannot obligate a person to lay down his life rather than passively violate a Jewish law – by not answering “Amen.” Moreover, the halakhic source (Mekhilta to Exodus 23:1; ed. Horovitz-Rabin, p. 322) cited by Rabbi Rogalin does not treat the issue of laying down one’s life at all.

A claim similar to that of Rabbi Rogalin appears in a much earlier work: R. Moshe Kahana, דרך משה, Amsterdam, 1699. I am indebted to R. Eliezer Brodt for calling this claim to my attention (via Dan Rabinowitz). On p. 41 (of the Jerusalem, 1983 edition of דרך משה), the text reads:

על כן כל איש מישראל ששומע הברכה מישראל מחוייב לענות אמן אפילו שומע מאשה או מקטן, ואם שומע ואינו עונה חייב מיתה. וסימן אמ”ן נוטריקון א’ני מ’וסר נ’פשי, שכל אחד מישראל מחוייב למסור נפשו על עניית אמן

No halakhic source is cited for this פסק הלכה, (that not answering “Amen” is a capital offense; and that a person must lay down his life for the sake of answering “Amen”), either from the Talmud, Rishonim, or Aharonim. And while a famous story about R. Mordechai Jaffe, author of the לבושים, suggests that not answering “Amen” under normal circumstances is a capital offense (בדיני שמים), it does not suggest that a person must lay down his life if forced not to answer “Amen” (see דרך משה, loc. cit.; cf. R. Mordechai Jaffe, לבוש החור, Jerusalem, 2000, vol. 2, pp. 579-580).

Bibliography:

The tentative bibliography that follows lists ספרי קדש that treat the mitzvah of answering “Amen.” The list does not include books that treat a variety of mitzvot, including the mitzvah of answering “Amen.” Thus, for example, the list does not include R. Aharon Avraham b. R. Barukh Ha-Levi, אגרת הטעמים (Mantua, 1582), even though pp. 12b-15a of that treatise treat the mitzvah of answering “Amen.” For similar reasons, we have not listed R. Aharon Roth, שומר אמונים (Jerusalem, 1942), though see item 8 on the list. Books in foreign languages are not listed, though many exist. R. Menahem Nahum Bochner’s ספר עניית אמן (Tchernovitz, 1913) is also omitted from the list; it does not treat the mitzvah of answering “Amen.” The list certainly needs to be expanded. I’ve included only the titles of books I have held in my hand.

רשימת ספרים העוסקים במצוות עניית אמן

1] ואמרו אמן, לר’ יהושע אלטר ווילדמאן, ב’ כרכים, ירושלים, תרפ”ז-תרפ”ט

2] ונאמר אמן: יצחק לשוח, לר’ שלום יודא גראס, ברוקלין, תשמ”א

3] חוברת לימוד בנושא מעלת עניית אמן יהא שמיה רבא, בלי שם מחבר, ב’ כרכים, ירושלים, תש”ס-תשס”ב

4] חובת עניית אמן, לר’ הלל דוד ליטוואק, ברוקלין, תשנ”ט

5] כתר מלוכה, בלי שם מחבר, ירושלים, בלי שנת דפוס (לפני שנת תש”ס), והיא הוצאה ראשונה וצנומה של ספר כתר מלוכה דלהלן

6] כתר מלוכה, בלי שם מחבר, ירושלים, תש”ס

7] לקוטי תורת אמן, לר’ נחום זק”ש, ווילנא, תרס”ז

8] מאמר פתחו שערים מספר שומר אמונים, לר’ אהרן ראטה, בית שמש, תשנ”ה

9] מדריך לעניית אמן, לר’ שלום יודא גראס, ברוקלין, תשמ”א

10] מנחיל אמונה, לר’ יהודה ליב ראגאלין, פאלטאווא, תרע”ג

11] נוטרי אמן, לר’ אברהם קסלר, ב’ כרכים, בני ברק, תש”ס-תשס”ד

12] עניית אמן כהלכתה, לר’ ישכר דוב רומפלער, מאנסי, תש”ס

13] קובץ ונאמר אמן, בלי שם מחבר, בת-ים, תשס”ד

14] קונטרס הבו לה’ כבוד: התעוררות וסיפורים…בעניני…עניית אמן, בלי שם מחבר, ירושלים, תשנ”ג

15] קונטרס מהלכות עניית אמן, לר’ אברהם דוד בלאך, ווילנא, תרס”ט. נלוה לספרו ציצית הכנף, ווילנא, תרס”ט

16] קונטרס עניית אמן כהלכתה, לר’ שלום יודא גראס, ברוקלין, תש”ם

17] קונטרס שומר אמונים, בלי שם מחבר, ברוקלין, תשי”ג

18] שומר אמונים, לר’ אליהו וויגאדזקי, פיעטרקוב, תרס”ו

19] שירו למלך, בלי שם מחבר, ירושלים, תשס”ב

20] תשובת נפש תיקון אמן תשובת תענית, בלי שם מחבר, לובלין, תל”ז