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Translations of Rabbi Judah Halevi’s Kuzari

Translations of
Rabbi Judah Halevi’s Kuzari
by Daniel J. Lasker
Daniel J. Lasker is Norbert Blechner Professor of Jewish Values at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Beer Sheva, in the Goldstein-Goren Department of Jewish Thought. He has published widely in the fields of medieval Jewish philosophy, the Jewish-Christian debate, and Karaism.
This is Professor Lasker’s third essay at the Seforim
blog.
On the occasion
of the publication of:
ספר הכוזרי. הוא ספר הטענה והראָיה לדת
המושפלת לרבי יהודה הלוי
תרגם מערבית-יהודית לעברית בת זמננו
מיכאל שוַרץ
הוצאת הספרים של אוניברסיטת בן-גוריון
בנגב, באר-שבע, תשע”ז
R. Judah Halevi,
The Book of Kuzari. The Book of Rejoinder and Proof of the Despised Religion,
translated by Michael Schwarz
Beer Sheva, 2017
The
publication of Prof. Michael Schwarz z”l’s new modern Hebrew translation of
Rabbi Judah Halevi’s Judaeo-Arabic Book of Kuzari provides a good
opportunity to discuss previous versions of this seminal book of Jewish thought
and to evaluate the advantages that Prof. Schwarz’s translation has over other
renditions. Prof. Schwarz (1929-2011), who completed a draft translation before
he died over five years ago, was a scholar of Jewish and Islamic philosophy
whose best-known publication has been his translation of Maimonides’ Guide
of the Perplexed
. After an unfortunate delay, the Kuzari has now been
published by the International Goldstein-Goren Center for Jewish Thought at
Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, in its series “Library of Jewish Thought,”
under the editorship of Prof. Haim Kreisel.[1]
Less
than thirty years after R. Judah ben Samuel Halevi completed his Book of
Kuzari
[2] in approximately
1140, it became one of the first Judaeo-Arabic compositions to be translated
into Hebrew. This pioneering translation marked part of the cultural transfer
of Andalusian Jewish culture, written in Judaeo-Arabic, into Hebrew, and was accomplished
in 1167 by R. Judah ben Saul Ibn Tibbon, “the father of the translators.” As
the centers of Jewish intellectual life moved to Christian areas where Hebrew
was the predominant Jewish literary language, it was only through this
translation that the Kuzari was known to generations upon generations of
Jews. The Kuzari’s readers were moved by its unwavering defense of
Judaism, its description of Jewish singular chosenness, and its love of Zion.
Halevi’s life story, including his departure from Iberia and, according to
legend, his martyrdom at the gates of Jerusalem, only strengthened the
resonance of the book (on this legend, see here). Extensive commentaries were written on the basis of the
Ibn Tibbon translation by authors who neither understand Arabic nor were able
to appreciate the Islamic context in which the Kuzari was written. Judah
Halevi’s defense of Judaism made a great impact on Jewish thought and achieved
canonical status.[3]
With
the birth of Jewish studies in the nineteenth century, scholars began
publishing original texts in academic editions. Thus, Hartwig Hirschfeld
(1854-1934), working with Oxford-Bodleian Ms. Pococke 284, the only complete,
or almost complete, version of the work, produced a first edition of the
original Judaeo-Arabic text of the Kuzari.[4] He published with it a
version of the Ibn Tibbon translation which was partially corrected to
correspond to the Judaeo-Arabic version, but not in a consistent manner. Thus,
Hirschfeld changed some passages in the Hebrew despite their being attested in
all the Ibn Tibbon manuscripts and editions, but left other problematic
passages untouched.[5] The Hirschfeld Ibn Tibbon text achieved wide
distribution when it was used by Avraham Zifroni as the basis of his edition of
the Kuzari, and many contemporary editions of the Hebrew Kuzari
are based on Zifroni’s work.[6] Meanwhile, Hirschfeld’s Judaeo-Arabic publication
has been supplanted by the superior edition of David Zvi Baneth and Haggai
Ben-Shammai.[7]
The
Judah Ibn Tibbon translation of the Kuzari is an adequate translation, despite
some misunderstandings. It follows the Tibbonide practice of maintaining the
syntax and word order of the original Arabic to the extent possible and often
translating the same underlying Arabic term with one Hebrew equivalent. It may also
be a better witness to the original text of the Kuzari than the unique Judaeo-Arabic
manuscript which was copied in Damascus over 300 years after the composition of
the original book. For professional students of medieval Jewish philosophy, or
those with close familiarity with medieval Hebrew, it is readable and achieves
its goal of making the work accessible to non-Arabic readers. Yet, there is
still no acceptable edition based on the best manuscripts of this translation.
In addition, as a means of communicating the extent of Judah Halevi’s thought
to the contemporary reader of modern Hebrew, it is less than ideal. Thus, since
the 1970’s, a number of new Hebrew translations of the Kuzari have
appeared.
The
first of these translations was presented by Dr. Yehudah Even Shmuel (1886-1976)
in 1973.[8] The first edition included a long introduction, a vocalized and
punctuated text, short notes and many extensive indices, and was praised for
the clarity of its Hebrew and its accessibility to contemporary readers.
Subsequently it was published in paperback with just the text and short notes,
an edition which has sold well and is used as a textbook for high schools and
universities. At first, the novelty of a medieval philosophical work in
readable modern Hebrew seems to have compensated for the imprecision of the
translation.[9] Oftentimes, the translator offered more of a creative
paraphrase than an exact translation, and there were sections where Even Shmuel
attempted to tone down considerably Judah Halevi’s view of Jewish essentialism.[10]
Many key terms were translated by different Hebrew words, making it impossible
for the reader to note the importance of these words, most of which have
resonances from the Islamic and Arabic realms. Thus, Halevi’s great debt to his
non-Jewish cultural context was effectively hidden by this translation.
Scholars soon realized that this edition of the Kuzari could not be used
for academic purposes.
Despite
its drawbacks, or perhaps because of its advantages, the Even Shmuel
translation went unchallenged for over 20 years. In the mid-1990’s, I heard
Rabbi Yosef Kafiḥ (1917-2000), the well-known editor and translator of
Judaeo-Arabic texts, reply to a question as to why he did not translate the Kuzari
as he had translated so many other classics. He responded that he had prepared
such a translation many years previously but had decided not to publish it
because he did not want to appear as competing with Even Shmuel. Nonetheless, Kafiḥ
finally did publish his own translation in 1997,[11] following his custom of
presenting the original Judaeo-Arabic and the Hebrew translation in parallel
columns.[12] This translation has neither the clarity nor the extensive
notation of Kafiḥ’s earlier translations; most of his comments are devoted to
attacking Even Shmuel’s translation. In his introduction, Kafiḥ explains that
he had begun translating the Kuzari when he was a student in a class led
by Rabbi David Cohen (the Nazir, 1887-1972) at Merkaz Harav Yeshiva in 1947-48,
where he was made responsible for comparing Ibn Tibbon’s Hebrew with the
Judaeo-Arabic in the Hirschfeld edition.[13] Repeating what he had said in
public, namely that he had waited so long to publish this translation because
of his desire not to appear as a competitor with Even Shmuel, he then goes on
to attack Even Shmuel’s translation mercilessly. He even states that Rabbi
Judah Halevi composed one of his dirges when he realized that his Kuzari
would be translated by Even Shmuel.
Despite
Rabbi Kafiḥ’s great erudition in Judaeo-Arabic, and the general readability of
his other translations, the Kuzari does not match his previous work.
Whether this was a result of the fact that the translation was, indeed, a
product of his youth before he had perfected his Hebrew style, or was the work
of an aged man who did not review his earlier drafts, it did not succeed in replacing
the Even Shmuel translation as the generally accepted Hebrew version of the Kuzari.
My own experience with Israeli students has been that Kafiḥ’s Hebrew is not
much more understandable than that of Judah Ibn Tibbon, and, despite the
convenience of having the original Judaeo-Arabic text available, it was not a
very good pedagogical tool. Sometimes I preferred using the Ibn Tibbon text
which is available in a number of formats, such as in Yediot Aharonot’s Am
ha-sefer
project[14] and on-line.
There
exists one more contemporary translation of the Kuzari into Hebrew and
that is the one produced by Rabbi Itzhak Shailat (b. 1946).[15] Shailat is
known for his editions and translations of medieval Judaeo-Arabic texts, such
as Maimonides’ Epistles. Although Shailat’s introduction and notes to
his editions demonstrate a conservative, harmonistic and pietistic approach to
his authors, his translations are generally accurate. His methodology, however,
is to reproduce Tibbonide Hebrew as much as possible, giving his translations a
classical, rather than modern, feel. Hence, his Kuzari should be seen as
an update of Ibn Tibbon rather than as an independent creation.
Before
discussing the new Hebrew translation, it might be useful to refer to
translations into other languages. In addition to editing the Judaeo-Arabic
text of the Kuzari, and producing an edition of Ibn Tibbon’s Hebrew
translation, Hartwig Hirschfeld also translated the book into English.[16] This
work was reissued many times, often with minimal attribution to Hirschfeld.[17]
The abridged translation of the Kuzari by Prof. Isaac Heinemann
(1876-1957) which appeared independently in Oxford, 1947, and was later
incorporated in the widely distributed Three Jewish Philosophers,[18] is
greatly dependent upon Hirschfeld. In addition to questions of accuracy, the
language of these translations is difficult for the contemporary English
reader.
In
an attempt to present a clearly written English version of the Kuzari
which could be used by laypeople, Rabbi N. Daniel Korobkin (b. 1964) published
a translation on the basis of the Ibn Tibbon version, relying on the
interpretations of the classical commentators Judah Moscatto and Israel of
Zamosc.[19] Although achieving its goal of readability, the author’s ignorance
of Arabic and the scholarly literature on the Kuzari are the cause of
multiple errors of translation and annotation. Ibn Tibbon’s Hebrew translation
of the Kuzari is included in the book, but since it is based on the
Hirschfeld/Zifroni edition (the exact source is not noted in the book), and the
English translation is based on older editions, there are inconsistencies
between the Hebrew and the English. Subsequent to the Korobkin translation, other
English editions of the Kuzari have appeared, but apparently none of them
is based on the Judaeo-Arabic original.[20]
A
scholarly, readable English translation of the Kuzari from the original
has long been a desideratum. In fact, Prof. Lawrence V. Berman (1929-1988)
began the work on such a translation before his untimely death. The project was
inherited by Prof. Barry S. Kogan (b. 1944) and is scheduled to appear as part
of the Yale Judaica Series. This project has been long delayed, but Prof. Kogan
has been very generous with sharing drafts of this translation with colleagues,
a number of whom have used its clear and accurate renditions in their own
publications. One can only hope that there will not be much further delay until
the translation appears in print.[21]
This
leads us to the recently published Hebrew translation of the Kuzari by
Prof. Michael Schwarz. Following the pattern established in his translation of
Maimonides’ Guide, Schwarz presents an eminently readable rendition of
the book. As in the case of his other translations, the work combines accuracy
with readability. His language is elegant, eschewing the many foreign words
which have entered contemporary Hebrew. He highlights words which appear in
Hebrew in the Judaeo-Arabic original by using a bold font so the reader knows
that this is Halevi’s Hebrew, not Schwarz’s.
As
noted above, one of the challenges with a translation of the Kuzari is
how to capture the Islamic/Arabic flavor of the work. Despite its reputation as
the most Jewish of the medieval Jewish philosophical treatises, recent research
has demonstrated the extent to which the Kuzari is steeped in Islamic concepts.[22]
This can be seen by its use of a number of key terms which are repeated
throughout the book, such as ṣafwa (the choicest, translated as segulah,
as found in other translations, despite Prof. Schwarz’s reservations); al-amr
al-ilāhī
(divine order, translated ha-davar ha-‘elohi, as per Kafiḥ,
in contrast to Ibn Tibbon’s ha-ʿinyan ha-‘elohi); ijtihād (fervent
striving or innovating new laws, translated as hit’amẓut, hishtadlut, or ḥiddush
halakhah
), or qiyās (analogous reasoning or general rationalism,
translated heqesh or higgayon). Since it is not always possible
to use the exact same translation in every context, the translator must find a
way of informing the reader of the underlying key term. Schwarz solves this
problem by drawing up a list of recurring Arabic concepts and noting each time
one of them is used. He then explains these terms in a special glossary devoted
to their explication. Some important Arabic words which are used less often are
explained in the textual notes. In addition, the notes provide references to
Halevi’s sources or further explications.
Scholarly
analyses of the Kuzari are extensive, and as in the case of Schwarz’s
translation of the Guide, the notes are full of references to this
secondary literature. Although he does not say so in his very short preface,
one can assume that as was the case in the Guide, the reference to a
particular article or book does not necessarily imply endorsement of the
material found therein. The annotations are there for comprehensiveness, and
the alert reader is enjoined to examine them carefully. The bibliography
occupies 36 pages. In addition, there are indices of sources and a general
index of topics and places.[23]
When
Part One of Prof. Michael Schwarz’s translation of the Guide was first published
by Tel-Aviv University Press in 1997, I offered the opinion that despite the
fact that it was the best available Hebrew version of Maimonides’ masterpiece,
I was not sure it would replace the other available translations, partially
since traditional Jewish readers might be wary of a university provenance and
the reliance on non-Jewish sources.[24] I believe that my estimation has been
proven wrong, since the translation’s clear superiority to the competition has
made it indispensible.[25] It is to be hoped that the same widespread
acceptance of the Schwarz translation of the Guide will be repeated in
the case of the Schwarz translation of the Kuzari, since it is, without
doubt, the best Hebrew Kuzari available.
Notes:
[1]
Books from this series are produced by the Mosad Bialik Publishing House. The
Schwarz Kuzari can be ordered here.
The translation is preceded by an introduction which Prof. Schwarz asked me to
write and which he approved a few weeks before his death. [Editor’s Note:
Professor Schwarz’ edition of the Kuzari can be purchased via Bialik or by
contacting (Eliezerbrodt@gmail.com) — where the book will be available at the
same  Book Week price. Portions of the proceeds of this sale help support the efforts of the Seforim Blog.]
[2] The title, The
Book of Rejoinder and Proof of the Despised Religion
, is in accordance with
a Geniza fragment; a slightly different title appears in the one full Judaeo-Arabic
manuscript mentioned below. The title of Ibn Tibbon’s translation, Sefer
ha-kuzari
, was that which was known to centuries of Hebrew readers, and it corresponds
to the title, al-kitāb al-khazarī (“The Book of the Khazar”), found in
Halevi’s famous autograph letter from the Geniza.
[3] See Adam
Shear, The Kuzari and the Shaping of Jewish Identity, 1167–1900,
Cambridge 2008. Another medieval translation, by Judah ben Isaac Cardenal, has
not survived.
[4] Das Buch
al-Chazarî des Abû-l-Hasan Jehuda Hallewi
; im arabischen urtext sowie in
der hebräischen übersetzung des Jehuda Ibn Tibbon, herausgegeben von Hartwig
Hirschfeld, Leipzig, 1887. The manuscript is now classified as Neubauer
Catalogue Oxford ms. 1228, and it is freely available on-line (here).
[5] See Daniel
J. Lasker, “Adam and Eve or Adam and Noah? Judaeo-Arabic and Hebrew
Versions of the Same Books,” Pesher Nahum. Texts and Studies in Jewish
History and Literature from Antiquity Through the Middle Ages Presented to
Norman (Naḥum) Golb
, ed. Joel L. Kraemer and Michael G. Wechsler et al.,
Chicago, 2012, pp.141-148.
[6] The Zifroni
edition, Warsaw, 1911, published under his original name Zifrinowitsch,
included many valuable notes. Subsequent editions generally omitted these
notes.
[7] Judah
ha-Levi, Kitāb al-radd wa-ʾl-dalīl fi ʾl-dīn al-dhalīl (Al-kitāb al-khazarī),
ed. David H. (Zvi) Baneth and Haggai Ben-Shammai, Jerusalem, 1977.
[8] The
Kosari of R. Yehuda Halevi
, Translated Annotated and Introduced by Yehuda
Even Shmuel, Tel Aviv, 1972. On Even Shmuel, né Kaufman, see Ira Robinson, “The
Canadian years of Yehuda Kaufman (Even Shmuel): Educator, Journalist, and
Intellectual,” Canadian Jewish Studies, 15 (2007), pp. 129-142.
[9] See, e.g.,
Michael Schwarz’s effusive review in Kiryat Sefer, 49 (5734), pp.
198-202. Many years later, Prof. Schwarz told me that he no longer held the
views he expressed in that review.
[10] For
instance, the term ṣarīḥ/ ṣuraḥa’, meaning “native-born,” and indicative
of Halevi’s essentialist view of the Jewish chosenness, is glossed over in
1:115; 2:1; and 5:23; see Daniel J. Lasker, “Proselyte Judaism, Christianity
and Islam in the Thought of Judah Halevi,” Jewish
Quarterly Review,
81:1-2 (July-October, 1990): 75-91 (Hebrew version: in Ephraim Hazan and Dov Schwartz, eds., The
Poetry of Philosophy. Studies on the Thought of R. Yehuda Halevi
,
Ramat-Gan, 2016, pp. 207-220).
[11] Sefer
ha-kuzari le-rabbeinu Yehuda Halevi zẓ”l
, Kiryat Ono, 5757.
[12] Kafiḥ states
that he used the text published by Hirschfeld, correcting it according to the
Baneth-Ben-Shammai edition. A comparison of texts indicates that he did not
always follow Hirschfeld and Ben-Shammai. In fact, in the edition and Hebrew
translation, he accepted certain emendations in the order of the text and the
re-assignment of sections from the King to the Sage, and vice versa, e.g.,
3:25-31. These departures from the original are very similar to ones made by
Even Shmuel (both mention the opinion of Rabbi Ben-Zion Hai Uziel).
[13] Cohen’s
class notes were published many years later as a commentary on the Kuzari
under the title Ha-kuzari ha-mevu’ar, edited by Dov Schwartz, Jerusalem,
1997.
[14] Judah
Halevi, Sefer ha-kuzari, Tel Aviv, 2008 (with my introduction). The text
is vocalized and section headings have been added (not by me), but it is not a
scientific edition.
[15] Jerusalem,
2010. In his introduction (p. 5), Shailat writes that he was aware that Prof.
Schwarz was working on a translation, but he decided to go ahead with his own
project because it was unclear when the Schwarz translation would be ready and
unlike Schwarz’s rendition into modern Hebrew, Shailat was translating it into
medieval Hebrew.
[16] Judah
Hallevi’s Kitab al Khazari
, translated from the Arabic with an introd. by
Hartwig Hirschfeld, London, 1905.
[17] E.g., the
edition by Schocken Publishing House, The Kuzari: An Argument for the Faith
of Israel
(various editions), which mentions H. Slonimsky as the author of the
introduction on the cover of the book, but requires one to search well to find
out that it was Hirschfeld’s translation.
[18] Cleveland,
1960, with many reprints.
[19] Yehuda
HaLevi, The Kuzari. In defense of the Despised Faith, translated and
annotated by N. Daniel Korobkin, Northvale, N.J., 1998.
[20] Amazon.com
lists many editions of the Kuzari. I have been unable to check them
personally. As far as I know, they are all dependent upon the Hebrew.
[21]
Reference should be made as well to the excellent French translation by Prof. Charles
Touati (1925-2003), executed on the basis of the Judaeo-Arabic original: Juda
Hallevi, Le Kuzari. Apologie de la religion méprisé, traduit sur le
texte original arabe confronté avec la version hébraïque et accompagné d’une
introduction et de notes par Charles Touati, Louvain, 1994.
[22] My student
Ehud Krinis discusses Shi’ite influence; see his God’s Chosen People: Judah
Halevi’s Kuzari and the Shīcī Imām Doctrine
, Turnhout 2014. For Sufi influence, see Diana Lobel, Between
Mysticism and Philosophy: Sufi Language of Religious Experience in Judah
Halevi’s Kuzari
. Albany, NY 2000.
[23] The indices
were produced by Prof. Schwarz’s son, David Zori, who took upon himself the
responsibility of transforming his father’s draft into publishable form.
Editorial work on the text was done by Ayal Fishler.
[24] Jewish Studies, 37 (1997): 267-271
(Hebrew).

[25] An edition
of Schwarz’s Guide, without the notes and with some corrections, was
issued by Yediot Aharonot in the Am ha-sefer series, Tel-Aviv, 2008. The
translation was also at one time freely available on-line until Tel-Aviv
University Press removed its site. Accessing it on-line is still possible, but
it is not as easy as it once was.



Daniel J. Lasker – Birkat Ha-Hammah 5769

Get Ready – It’s Almost Time to Bless the Sun
by Daniel J. Lasker

Daniel J. Lasker is Norbert Blechner Professor of Jewish Values at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Beer Sheva, and is chair of the Goldstein-Goren Department of Jewish Thought. His landmark work Jewish Philosophical Polemics against Christianity in the Middle Ages, originally published in 1977, was recently republished with a new introduction in 2007.   

This is Professor Lasker’s second post at the Seforim blog. His previous post about ve-ten tal u-matar li-verakha was entitled “December 6 Is Coming: Get Out the Umbrellas,” and is available here.

לזכר אבי מורי ז”ל
In less than two months, on April 8, 2009 (Erev Pesah, 14th Nisan, 5769), the once- in-28-years Blessing of the Sun (Birkat ha-Hammah) will be recited, celebrating the occasion when the sun returns to the position where it was when it was first created, on the same day of the week and the same hour of the day as it was then. For those with short and medium range memories, and for those who were toddlers or perhaps not even born in 1981, it is useful to review the reason for this ceremony, one of the very few Jewish events which follow a solar calendar rather than our standard Jewish luni-solar calendar. This year’s Blessing is the first one in the internet age, so it is appropriate to publicize it on a blog; one can only imagine what technological breakthroughs will be around at the time of the next Blessing in 2037.
The Talmud Berakhot 59b states: “He who sees the sun at its tekufah, the moon in its power, the stars [or planets] in their orbits, and the signs of the zodiac in their orderly progress, should say, ‘Blessed be the Maker of Creation’ (ברוך עושה בראשית).” The Talmud continues: “And when is that? Abbaye said: ‘Every twenty-eight years when the cycle is repeated and Tekufat Nisan falls in Saturn on the evening of Tuesday, going into Wednesday.” It should be noted right away that Abbaye is commenting only on the first event described in the baraita, namely, “seeing the sun at its tekufah,” and that parallel passages (Tosefta Berakhot 6:10, Jer. Berakhot 9:2 [13d], and Leviticus Rabbah 23:8) do not include Abbaye’s explanation. It is that explanation, however, which is the basis of the ceremony of Birkat Ha-Hammah.
What does Abbaye’s comment mean? First of all, Tekufat Nisan refers to the vernal equinox, the exact time when spring begins, when the sun rises exactly in the east and sets exactly in the west. Since night and day are then equal, sunrise and sunset on those days are at 6:00 AM and 6:00 PM respectively (in local time; not necessarily in standard time). Second, the ancients believed that there are seven planets (Sun, Moon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus and Saturn); and each hour of the day is controlled by a different planet on a weekly rotation (each planet controls 24 different hours during the week, repeating the cycle every seven days). For instance, the planet which controls the 6:00 AM hour names that particular day: Sunday (Sun); Monday (Moon); Tuesday (Mars – think the French mardi); Wednesday (Mercury – mercredi); Thursday (Jupiter –jeudi); Friday (Venus – vendredi); and Shabbat/Saturday (Saturn). The 6:00 PM Tuesday hour, namely the onset of Wednesday according to the Jewish practice of beginning the day at night, is Saturn; thus, “Saturn on the evening of Tuesday, going into Wednesday.” According to Abbaye, when the vernal equinox falls every 28 years on Tuesday at 6:00 PM, the blessing of the sun is to be said. Since at the time of equinox the sun sets on Tuesday at 6:00 PM, the halakah maintains that the Blessing of the Sun is to be recited on Wednesday morning after sunrise. April 8, 2009, is the Wednesday after the Tuesday on which Tekufat Nisan occurs at the 6:00 PM for the first time in 28 years.
But why does the vernal equinox fall at 6:00 PM on Tuesday night once every 28 years? This assertion is based on a number of assumptions: 1) The world was created in Nisan (actually at the end of Adar) and not in Tishrei (actually the end of Elul), following R. Yehoshua’s view in Rosh Hashanah 10b-11a. 2) When God created the sun on the fourth day, He wasted no time and did so at the very first minute of the fourth day, namely, what we call Tuesday evening at 6:00 PM. 3) The sun was created at the moment of the vernal equinox (Tekufat Nisan). 4) The solar year is exactly 365 ¼ days long. On the basis of this calculation, the tekufot (the equinoxes and the solstices) progress each year by one day and six hours (365 ¼ days is 52 weeks, one day and 6 hours). If the first Tekufat Nisan was on Tuesday night at 6:00 PM, the next one is Wednesday night at midnight; the next one was Friday morning at 6:00 AM; then Saturday at noon; Sunday night at 6 PM, and so forth. The first time after creation that Tekufat Nisan fell again on Tuesday night at 6:00 PM was in the year 29 AM, 28 years after creation. On 14th Nisan, 5769, the vernal equinox will be at 6:00 PM on Tuesday for the 207th time (5769/28 = 206 with a remainder of 1). To celebrate this event, the blessing “Blessed be the Maker of Creation” will once again be recited.
The perceptive reader may have noticed that the assumptions upon which the obligation to recite the Blessing of the Sun are based are highly problematic. There are more than seven planets and they do not revolve around the earth (which itself is a planet); and most people do not believe that each hour of the day is ruled by a different planet. Our celebration of Rosh Hashanah on the first of Tishrei seems to indicate that the world was not created in Nisan (e.g., we say: היום הרת עולם). The Bible gives no indication that the sun was created on the equinox (either vernal or autumnal), or that it was created at 6:00 PM on Tuesday night (after all, before the creation of the sun, there was no 6:00 PM). But most significantly of all, the year is not exactly 365 ¼ days long.
There are a number of consequences of the discrepancy between the actual length of the year and the approximate length of 365 ¼ days (called Tekufat Shmuel [cf. Eruvin 56a], which is the same calculation which is at the base of the Julian calendar; see my contribution to the Seforim blog on November 30, 2007, in the context of a discussion of the prayer for rain in the diaspora, also calculated according to Shmuel’s imprecise length of the year). One consequence is that the Blessing of the Sun is moving progressively forward vis-à-vis the Gregorian calendar. In 2121 the blessing will be said on April 9, not April 8. In 2205 it will be said on April 10, and so on (the Hebrew date changes every time since the Blessing is based on the solar calendar). More importantly, however, the Jewish world is blessing the sun as it returns to its original time at the vernal equinox on a date which has nothing to do with the true vernal equinox (which is this year on March 20, 11:44 UTC).
Why, then, do observant Jews observe a commandment which is so questionable (especially this year when it falls on the eve of Pesah, not the most convenient time to have a ceremony which is intended to be performed in as large a group as possible – ברוב עם הדרת מלך)? Is it just another example of Jewish stubbornness and inertia – holding onto an ancient ceremony even when it is based on questionable assumptions (perhaps like the second day of holidays in the diaspora because of calendrical doubts which were laid to rest over a thousand years ago)? Or is it a sign that in matters of religion, especially when it comes to halakhah, logic is not the only important factor or perhaps not a factor at all. The Hatam Sofer ruled (Responsa, Orah Hayyim 56) that once the great Rabbis of Israel (Maimonides [H. Berakhot 10:18], Yosef Karo [Orah Hayyim 229:2], et al.) had codified the practice of blessing the sun, the matter was closed. It would seem that, indeed, tradition, even illogical tradition, has had a strong hold on Jews; it is this Jewish loyalty to tradition which has maintained us during our long history.
And so, let us hope that on this 14th of Nisan/April 8, the skies will be clear, the sun will be bright, and we can once again thank God for making the works of creation!




Daniel J. Lasker – “December 6 Is Coming: Get Out the Umbrellas”

December 6 Is Coming: Get Out the Umbrellas
By Daniel J. Lasker

Daniel J. Lasker is Norbert Blechner Professor of Jewish Values at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, Beer Sheva, and is chair of the Goldstein-Goren Department of Jewish Thought. His landmark work Jewish Philosophical Polemics against Christianity in the Middle Ages, originally published in 1977, was recently republished with a new introduction in 2007.

This is Professor Lasker’s first post at the Seforim blog.

We Jews in Israel have been praying for rain since the seventh of Marheshvan (the night of Thursday, October 18), but, unfortunately, so far the prayers have generally not yet been answered (especially in Beer Sheva where I live). Next week, it will be the chance of Jews who live in the Diaspora to pray for rain, beginning in Maariv of the night of Wednesday, December 5 (the eve of December 6). As undoubtedly all readers of the Seforim blog know, the dates for asking for rain (adding the words ve-ten tal u-matar li-verakha to the ninth blessing of the Shemoneh Esreh, in the Ashkenazi and Nusah Sefarad rites; or changing the form of that blessing from Barkheinu to Bareikh Aleinu, in what is now usually known as the Edot ha-Mizrah rite) are different for the Land of Israel and for the Diaspora. Perhaps not all readers know 1) why there is a difference; 2) why most years one begins the prayer in Maariv of December 4 (the eve of December 5); and 3) why one begins on December 5 this year.

Why is there a difference?

Mishnah Ta’anit 1:3 reads: “On the third of Marheshvan one is to begin praying for rain; Rabban Gamaliel says: ‘On the seventh of that month, fifteen days after the feast of Tabernacles, so that even the tardiest Israelite may reach the Euphrates [on the return journey from the pilgrimage to Jerusalem].’” The Talmud (Ta’anit 10a) records Rabbi Eleazar as stating that the law follows Rabban Gamaliel. Despite the fact that the pilgrimage on Sukkot is no longer binding, and modern methods of transportation obviate the need to wait two weeks for the pilgrims to return home, the practice has remained constant: in the Land of Israel, she’elat geshamim (the prayer for rain) begins on the eve of the seventh of Marheshvan.

The same Talmudic passage records that, in the Golah, the practice was to wait “until the sixtieth [day] of the [autumnal] equinox (ad shishim ba-tequfah)” before beginning the prayer. No explanation is given for this difference between Israel and Babylonia, but there are good reasons to believe that it has to do with the meteorological and agricultural differences between the countries. Jews in Babylonia did not need, nor did they want, the winter rains to begin until two thirds of the autumn season had passed; therefore, they waited longer before beginning the prayer. Both communities, however, began “mentioning” rain (mashiv ha-ruah) on Shemini Atzeret, and they ceased mentioning rain and saying the special prayer for rain at Passover.[1]

What about Jews in other countries? Should Jews in these areas pray for rain according to the needs of their own country of residence, as did Jews in the Land of Israel and in Babylonia, or should they employ an already established schedule? Since Babylonian procedures were usually followed in the whole Diaspora, it became the practice of Jews almost everywhere outside the Land of Israel to offer their prayers for rain on the same dates as did their Babylonian coreligionists.[2]

This generalization did not go unchallenged, and the most noteworthy attempt to alter the practice was made by Rabbeinu Asher ben Yehiel (Rosh, c. 1250-1328). He tried to establish the principle that each Jewish community would pray for rain when they actually needed it in their country; this attempt was rebuffed by his contemporaries. The Rosh’s failure to innovate a change in the practice, no matter how sensible it might have seemed, was a major reason why no one in the northern hemisphere ever again challenged the prevailing practice. Questions did arise, however, when Jews migrated to areas in the southern hemisphere, when the order of the seasons is reversed. Rabbinic opinion has usually held that the Babylonian pattern should be followed even when the local winter occurs during summer in Babylonia and vice versa. The result is that to this day, Jews throughout the Diaspora set their liturgical calendar in this regard according to the agricultural needs of Iraq, a country which is now almost devoid of Jews.[3]

On most years…

But why December 4? The Talmud says “the sixtieth day of the autumnal equinox,” and the autumnal equinox this year fell on September 23, 2007, at 5:51 AM, on the American eastern seaboard, making the sixtieth day on November 21.[4] The answer to this question is to be found in a miscalculation of the length of the year. Present-day astronomers calculate the mean solar year to be 365.2422 days (365 days, 5 hours, 48 minutes and 46 seconds). This is slightly shorter than the 365.25 days (365 days, 6 hours) assumed by Samuel, the third century amora and astronomer, who gave the rules for calculating the equinoxes and solstices (Eruvin 56a). This is the same assumption which is at the basis of the Julian calendar as well.

The discrepancy between the assumed length of the year and actual length may not seem like much; it is only .0078 days (11 minutes, 14 seconds) a year. Yet, over a period of a thousand years, a difference of 7.8 days (1000 x .0078) exists between a system based on assumed length (the Julian calendar or Samuel’s tequfot) and one based on actual length. It is this difference which led the Catholic Church under Pope Gregory XIII to correct the Julian calendar by dropping 10 days in 1582 (the day after Thursday, October 4 became Friday, October 15), thus creating the Gregorian calendar. To prevent further problems, three leap years were eliminated every 400 years, so that only century years divisible by 400 were leap years. This system, which eventually caught on in the whole world, is not perfect, since in 3300 years another one day discrepancy accumulates.

In Samuel’s calculation, however, there are exactly 365 ¼ days in a year, and each tequfah (solstice or equinox) lasts exactly 91 days and 7 ½ hours (despite the disparate lengths of the various seasons). One autumnal equinox (tequfat tishrei) falls exactly 365 ¼ days after the previous one. Samuel’s calculation has kept in step with the Julian calendar throughout the centuries, and, therefore, just as in Samuel’s time tequfat tishrei fell on the Julian September 24, so, too, today it invariably falls on that date. In this century, however, the Julian September 24 is the Gregorian October 7. The sixtieth day after October 7 is December 5, and one generally begins saying tal u-matar in the Maariv before December 5, namely on December 4.

… but this year.

So why is this year different from all other years, or at least the last three years? This is a function of the exact hour when the equinox falls. Although it is always on October 7, in a four year cycle the tequfah will come at 03:00, 09:00, 15:00 and 21:00 (check your synagogue luah for the times). The fourth year is always a Hebrew year divisible by four (5768), or the year before a civil leap year (2008); in that year, tequfat tishrei is after dark (21:00) and, therefore, it is considered the next day (October 8). Fifty-nine days later is December 6 and tal u-matar begins in Maariv of December 5. Since the coming civil year adds an additional day, next year’s calculated autumnal equinox will again fall on October 7 at 03:00, and tal u-matar will again begin in Maariv of December 4. In the nineteenth century, the prayer for rain began in Maariv of December 3 or 4; since 1900 was not a leap year, it jumped to December 4 or 5 in the twentieth century. 2100 will also not be a leap year, and in the twenty-second century, tal u-matar will begin in Maariv of December 5 or 6. Given enough time, and no calendrical reform, eventually Jews outside Israel will start praying for rain only on the eve of Passover, just in time to stop this prayer when Passover begins.[5]

A few observations can be added to this description of the beginning time of the prayer for rain in the Diaspora. First, the same miscalculation which causes the “sixtieth day of the autumnal equinox” to move forward vis-à-vis the sun is at the base of another Jewish ritual, the once in 28 years “Blessing of the Sun” (Birkat ha-Hammah), scheduled to occur again in one year and five months on Wednesday, April 8, 2009 (coincidentally, fourteenth of Nisan, the eve of Passover; the last time was on Wednesday, April 8, 1981). In the nineteenth century, the Blessing of the Sun occurred on Wednesday, April 7, every 28 years; in the twenty-second century it will be on Wednesday, April 9, every 28 years. Despite the fact that the Blessing commemorates the cyclical repetition of the first vernal equinox at creation, it now falls 18 days after the actual astronomical equinox.

Furthermore, it is clear from the sources that each Jewish community is actually praying for rain for its own needs, and not for rain in the Land of Israel. Nevertheless, many Jews, even relatively knowledgeable ones, think that adding tal u-matar to the prayers on December 5 marks the beginning of the rainy season in Israel, not realizing that she’elat geshamim had already begun in Israel on the seventh of Marheshvan. Perhaps one of the sources of this widespread misconception is the fact that the astronomical sixtieth day of the equinox has meaning only for Iraq, if even there, and the calculated sixtieth day has no meaning anywhere. Thus, when Jews in the Diaspora start praying for rain on December 4, they mistakenly think that they are doing so for the residents of the Land of Israel.

Perhaps their prayers are still valuable. From my experience, often November is a dry month in Israel, and the winds pick up and the rain starts falling only in the first week of December. The sages tell us that the reason Israel has distinct wet and dry seasons and is so dependent upon rainfall (as compared to Egypt; cf. Deut. 11:10-12) is that God delights in hearing the prayers of the righteous who turn to Him in supplication for rain. Perhaps, the beginning of serious rain in the Land of Israel at the beginning of December, just as the prayer for rain starts in the Diaspora, is a sign that God actually delights in the prayers of the ignoramuses, who believe that their supplications for rain at that time are directed for the good of the Jews in the Land of Israel, not realizing that their prayers should be intended to bring rain to their own countries of residence. Whatever the case, we wish along with the High Priest on Yom Kippur that this year in Israel will, indeed, be very wet and not too cold, and that the rain will be only for a blessing!

Notes:
[1] For a discussion of the Babylonian custom, and the reasons behind it, see Arnold A. Lasker and Daniel J. Lasker, “The Jewish Prayer for Rain in Babylonia,” Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic and Roman Period 15 (1984): 124-144.
[2] In the words of the commentary attributed to Rashi on Ta’anit 10a: “Thus we act since all our customs follow the Babylonians (kol minhageinu ahar benei bavel).”
[3] For a fuller description of the long process described in these few sentences, see Arnold A. Lasker and Daniel J. Lasker, “The Jewish Prayer for Rain in the Post-Talmudic Diaspora,” AJS Review 9:2 (Fall 1984): 141-174.
[4] The equinoxes and solstices fall at the same instant all around the world, so in Israel, the autumnal equinox was at 12:51 PM; in Hawaii, at 12:51 AM; all times are daylight savings times.
[5] Details can be found in Arnold A. Lasker and Daniel J. Lasker, “The Strange Case of December 4: A Liturgical Problem,” Conservative Judaism 38:1 (Fall 1985): 91-99.