R. Isaac Arama, R. Kook, Mordecai Kaplan, and more

by Marc B. Shapiro

1. In the last post I discussed R. Isaac Arama. In his Conversos, Inquisition and the Expulsion of the Jews from Spain, p. 53, Norman Roth states that Arama was not a “great scholar.” If he means to say that Arama wasn’t a great talmudist (as has been stated about Ibn Ezra and Abarbanel), then perhaps he has a point (although I am sure this would be debated). But I don’t see how the title “great scholar” can be denied to Arama whose Akedat Yitzhak is a classic of Jewish literature and shows his vast knowledge.

Because the style of Akedat Yitzhak does not make it an easy read, many people avoid the work which is a shame as it is full of fascinating insights. One of his views that has often been quoted is that while it is true that individuals have free will, this is not the case for the Jewish people as a whole. It is built into the nature of the Jewish people that there can never be a time when the entire Jewish population rejects God.[1]

I think readers will also find it interesting that in discussing the role of women, he says that their second purpose (which he terms the lesser purpose – התכלית הקטן) is to have children.[2] However, the primary purpose of women is seen in the following quote, which I think is incredible when one considers how most medievals viewed women.

האחד מה שיורה עליו שם אשה כי מאיש לוקחה זאת וכמוהו תוכל להבין ולהשכיל בדברי שכל וחסידות כמו שעשו האמהות וכמה צדקניות ונביאות . . . ודאי עקר תולדותיהם של צדיקים מעשים טובים

How many contemporary Orthodox writers advocate the viewpoint that the primary purpose of women is to bear children, and that is where they find their fulfillment? Yet Arama rejects this completely. Arama’s understanding allows him to explain why Jacob was angered with Rachel when she said to him, “Give me children, or else I die.” (Gen. 30:1). Rachel didn’t realize that the main purpose of the righteous, and this also includes women, is good deeds. She mistakenly thought that her primary goal in life was to have children, and without that her life had no value. Jacob became angry since Rachel didn’t understand the basic point that the value of women is not simply dependent on how many children they can produce.[3]

It is well known that R. Meir Arama accused Abarbanel of plagiarizing from his father, R. Isaac. Abarbanel made heavy use of R. Abraham Bibago, and this also might be considered plagiarism (although much what we would regard as plagiarism today was not regarded as such in medieval times).[4] Abarbanel also used other writings without acknowledgment, such as R. Eleazar Ashkenazi ben Nathan ha-Bavli’s Tzafnat Paneah,[5] R. Nissim of Gerona’s Derashot,[6] and the medieval work Zekhut Adam.[7] R. Azariah de Rossi even accused Abarbanel of plagiarizing from Jerome.[8]

 מן הנראה כי גנוב הוא את החכם דון יצחק מדעת המעתיק לנוצרים בפרוש דניאל

In the introduction to his edition of Akedat Yitzhak, R. Hayyim Joseph Pollak mentions Abarbanel’s unacknowledged use of Arama’s work, and he is not sure what to make of it. In one case he refers to it as שגגה שיצא מלפני השליט. In general, he assumes that Abarbanel copied material from Arama for his own use, without intending to publish it. Yet by the time he published his own biblical commentaries he had forgotten that some sections of this work had come from Arama. Pollak also suggests, without any evidence whatsoever, that originally Abarbanel did mention Arama, yet these references were removed by others who had access to the manuscript. They did so in order to give greater glory to Abarbanel, so that he be given the credit for everything in the commentary.

השמיטו הם (או המעתיקים הבאים אחריהם) את שם בעל עקיד’ ז”ל מהמאמרים הלקוחים מאתו, בחשבם להרבות בזה כבוד הר”א ז”ל, אם יראו כל דברי ספרו כאילו הם ממנו לבד

Pollak’s defenses do not make much sense, and the best explanation is as mentioned, namely, that current standards of plagiarism are not like those found in medieval times.

Speaking of R. Isaac Arama, there are a number of references to him in the new edition of R. Raphael Berdugo’s commentary on the Torah, Mei Menuhot (I have mentioned R. Berdugo in a few prior posts). Here is the title page.

Here is page 918 of the commentary, where you can see that he quotes the Akedat Yitzhak who is criticizing Narboni.

On the top of the second column he refers to המדברים. The problem is that the editor doesn’t know what this term means (or for that matter, the word ההעברה),[9] and provides some fanciful explanation. However, just a little investigation would have revealed that the “Medabrim” are the Mutakallimun, that is, the followers of the Kalam. (Kalam means “word,” “conversation,” or “discourse”.) All one needs to do is open Ibn Tibbon’s translation of the Guide, and you will find lots of references to them. There is also a reference to them in Ibn Tibbon’s translation of Shemonah Perakim, ch. 6. 

The following appears in Guide 1:73 (Ibn Tibbon translation):

ההקדמה העשירית הוא זאת ההעברה אשר יזכרהו וזהו עמוד חכמת המדברים

The problem I am focusing on is not just that the editor did not recognize the term המדברים. It is that he should have been able to see that this was something he didn’t know, which in turn would lead him to investigate. This is a common problem, namely, it is not just that people don’t know, but that they don’t know that they don’t know.[10] What we should be able to expect, however, is that when an editor sees a term or expression that he doesn’t recognize, rather than engage in fanciful speculation he should actually consult with someone who might be able to understand the text.

Let me give another example of what I am referring to from the haredi world. This should not be taken as a general criticism of haredi editors. On the contrary, most of the best editions of rabbinic texts are edited by haredi scholars. They are experts in what they do and we all benefit. They, more than anyone else, are embarrassed when amateurs try to edit texts with all the errors they bring. (In a future post I will bring examples of mistakes by academic scholars in texts they edited, errors that could have been avoided had they consulted with real talmidei hakhamim.)

A few years ago a new edition of Maimonides’ ethical will, with an extensive commentary, was published. Here is a page from the work.

The only problem is that this supposed ethical will is a forgery, a fact recognized by R. Jacob Emden.[11] Actually, let me more exact; only the second part is a forgery, the part where Maimonides addresses his son R. Abraham and among other things tells him that the French scholars “don’t appear to recognize the Creator, blessed be He, except when they are ingesting boiled ox meat, seasoned in vinegar and garlic. . . . Generally, they have two wives, so that their minds are invariably fixed on sex, eating and drinking, and other sensual pleasures.”

The first part of the ethical will, before you come to דע בני אברהם, is not a forgery, but a case of mistaken identification. As noted by Israel Abrahams,[12] and more recently by R. Yitzhak Sheilat,[13] this first part is actually an ethical will of an Italian Jew directed towards his sons. He directs his words to them in the plural. Somehow, this ethical will got attached to the forged document of Maimonides, which of course is directed towards his son in the singular.[14]

In the introduction, the editor, R. Hillel Copperman, deals with the matter of the document’s authenticity.[15] He reports that he went to an unnamed great talmid hakham who told him in no uncertain terms that the ethical will was not written by Maimonides. When challenged that both R. Solomon Luria and the Hatam Sofer assumed that it was indeed written by Maimonides, this talmid hakham was not moved, and stated that they were both in error. It is not clear why the editor does not reveal the name of this talmid hakham. It could be that he is R. Shlomo Fisher, as later in the introduction the editor cites him by name, showing that R. Fisher was consulted in this matter.

After quoting from the anonymous talmid hakham, Copperman refers to numerous earlier sources that assume that the document was written by Maimonides, including various Mussar figures and also R. Aaron Kotler. He then cites R. Moses Samuel Shapiro that even though there might be difficulties with the work, one does not reject a tradition (that the document was authored by Maimonides) based on difficulties. Copperman then tells us that he asked R. Shmuel Auerbach who was uncertain about the matter. That is, the fact that earlier scholars assumed that the ethical will was written by Maimonides did not convince him of its authenticity.

Following this, Copperman went to R. Chaim Kanievsky. He was surprised to hear from R. Kanievsky that the latter had never seen or even heard of the ethical will! To say that this is difficult to believe is to put it mildly. It is indeed impossible to believe. One doesn’t need to be a great scholar to know of this work, which appears in various books and is referred to by numerous authors. Anyone who has been exposed to R. Kanievsky’s unparalleled wide-ranging knowledge knows that he is well aware of the ethical will and must also have reached an opinion about its authenticity, which for some reason he did not want to share with Copperman. Copperman himself raises this possibility but rejects it, seeing it as unlikely that R. Kanievsky would not tell him the truth.

חשבנו שמא לא רוצה הוא להיכנס לסוגיא זו, ומשנה מפני השלום. אך זה רחוק מאד בעינינו

All I would say is that while Copperman might regard this as unlikely, it is much more unlikely (actually, impossible) that a walking encyclopedia like R. Kanievsky has never even heard of the famous ethical will attributed to Maimonides.

Copperman then went to R. Steinman, and he tells us that it was clear to him that R. Steinman does not believe that the problems with the ethical will are enough to refute its authenticity. Yet he also tells us that R. Steinman referred to the matter of the Yerushalmi Kodashim, in order to show that something that even great rabbis originally regarded as authentic could later be shown to be a forgery. This latter point would appear to show that R. Steinman is not certain about the matter.

In seeking to determine if a document attributed to Maimonides is authentic, Copperman turns to the gedolim, the ones who determine Da’as Torah. Yet there are a number of people, some in the haredi world, who are experts in Maimonides’ writings, in particular, his letters and manuscripts. Shouldn’t they be the people to turn to? Shouldn’t Copperman have consulted with R. Yitzhak Sheilat or R. Shlomo Zalman Havlin, to give just two names? This is just one example of how some editors in the haredi world are simply not doing their job properly. It would be one thing to just reprint the ethical will without comment, but once Copperman writes an introduction to discuss its authenticity, how can he possibly assume that the matter will be settled simply by citing R. Steinman’s opinion, especially since R. Steinman would agree that he has no expert knowledge of this issue?

Let me return to Norman Roth, mentioned above and from whom the Seforim Blog recently had the privilege of publishing a post. He is a well-known expert in Spanish Jewish history. His footnotes in particular are always worth reading, as he uses them to correct all sorts of misconceptions. There are many supposed facts, continuously repeated, that actually have nothing to stand on, and throughout Roth’s works errors such as these are corrected. I mention this because I too might be a future subject of one of these footnotes. My book on censorship is currently with the publisher and I can’t make any further changes. In this book I deal with Ibn Ezra’s Iggeret Shabbat and discuss the controversy over whether it was directed against Rashbam. In a recent article which I just read, and thus could not refer to in my book, Roth sums up his position (which I think is unique) as follows: “In my opinion, it is highly unlikely that he [Ibn Ezra] ever went to England, and the “Sabbath letter” is surely a forgery.”[16] I am curious to hear what Ibn Ezra scholars have to say about Roth’s argument.

The truth is that Jewish Orthodoxy (from the Greek orthos [“true” or “right”) and doxa (“opinion” or “belief”) never existed. Originally Judaism was highly unorthodox. Although it always believed in God and Torah, it never offered any specifics of what God meant or what Torah consisted of. That was left to speculation, never to be determined. The early Sages, as testified by the Talmud and philosophers, disagreed on some of the most fundamental issues of faith.

But over the years we wanted more certainty. We wanted it handed to us on a silver platter, so that we could avoid debates and live a life of religious comfort, apathy, and mediocrity. Influenced by other religions, we adopted the need for cast-iron certainty and psychological security. So we began to rewrite Judaism in a way that would fit into the notions of established religions – well-structured, with a good dose of dogma. What we did not realize is that by doing so, we misrepresented Judaism by losing sight of the plot, thus doing it a great disservice.

We need to realize that our epoch of uncertainty is in fact much more conducive to authentic Judaism than all the conviction we’ve had in previous generations. It forces us to rediscover what Judaism is really about and gives us the opportunity to rebuild where rebuilding is required and leave untouched what should remain untouched.

Tamar Ross is another liberal Orthodox thinker. Here are three separate passages from a recent article.[17]

It is precisely because of the importance of everyday “realist” assumptions in cementing religious commitment that so much effort is expended by religious conservatives in cordoning off some religious beliefs as off-bounds to demythologizing or re-interpretation. Because the notion of “truth” and religious commitment are so intimately connected in the human psyche, critical scrutiny of beliefs that appear indispensable to the system is sometimes held back by upholding the remote possibility that future investigation will overturn current impressions. When scientific discoveries or deeply felt moral intuitions render even such eventualities incredible, religious adherents may resort to deliberate bifurcation, conducting themselves in accordance with reason in the laboratory and in their everyday lives while preserving professions of faith in the synagogue and in formal allegiance to what are regarded by current halakhic consensus as unavoidable halakhic constraints. Irrespective of the difficulty some may have in granting legitimacy or persuasive value to such policies, it would be fair to say that a religious world-view lacking any claims of attunement to a reality beyond its self-contained universe of discourse will never match traditional belief in its ability to preserve the intensity of feeling generated by its models and paradigms and to transmit the passion of its message to future generations.

Given these precedents, we would do will to rid ourselves once and for all of the misnomer of Orthopraxy, often invoked in a pejorative sense in order to dismiss halakhically conformist behavior that is not grounded on acceptance of dogma in its literal sense. Any behavior externally conforming to that which is historically and sociologically identified with traditional halakhic practice indicates some form of belief or justification though it may not tally with the naive objectivism of strict correspondence theory.

Postmodern language theory can redeem modern Orthodoxy from its counter-productive attachment to naive objectivism. The epistemological modesty of non-foundationalism can help religious adherents move away from overly rigid definitions of doctrine and allow them to return to the pre-modern function of religion as providing a valuable universe of discourse and a compelling way of life. It can extricate them from a mindless and stultifying triumphalism and encourage the willingness to refine religious convictions by listening carefully to other points of view.

After reading Cardozo, Ross, and numerous others I have quoted in the past, the only conclusion that can be reached is that, despite what Centrist rabbis like to claim, it is certainly not dogma, Maimonidean or otherwise, that holds wider Orthodoxy together. 

In thinking about the place of dogma, people should pay close attention to the following passage from R. Kook (Shemonah Kevatzim 1:765). R. Kook tells us that even “heretics” can have a more profound belief than so-called Orthodox Jews, and are thus described by the verse from Habakkuk 2:4  צדיק באמונתו יחיה.

לפעמים ימצא כופר שיש לו אמונה חזקה, פנימית, מאירה, נובעת ממקור הקדושה העליונה, יותר מאלפי מאמינים קטני אמנה. דבר זה נוהג באישים פרטיים וכן בדורות, ועל כולם נאמר צדיק באמונתו יחיה

R. Kook’s new published volumes contain many important texts dealing with belief, and I have quoted a number of them in prior posts. Here are some more significant passages.

Kevatzim mi-Ketav Yad Kodsho, vol. 1, p. 182: R. Kook explains that there are two types of faith, one which is based on absolute truth, and one which he refers to as אמונה הסברית. This latter type of faith is not absolute but changes with the times. For example, in one generation one can base a belief on a certain notion (scientific, moral, etc.) while in another generation, such an approach cannot be used, because the underlying notion is no longer accepted, and to use it will be dangerous to faith. We can all think of examples where this is so, i.e., where an explanation used to strengthen faith, and which was successful in its time, today will turn people off from Judaism (for example, explanations for kashrut and circumcision, or various descriptions of women’s nature and their necessary subservience to men, used to explain women’s position in Judaism). Similarly, there are examples where years ago an explanation could not have been used because of its negative impact, while today it can have a positive impact (for example, using evolution in explaining Torah). R. Kook sees the notion he is expounding upon as alluded to in Maimonides’ famous conception of “necessary truths” (Guide 3:28). 

R. Kook’s point is very important as it tells us that while the core of belief remains absolute and unchanging, the way it is understood and expressed must change with the times. This explains why earlier rabbinic conceptions of Judaism are not always satisfying to moderns. Some people assume that the reason for this is because we are at a much lower level than earlier rabbinic greats. R. Kook’s point, however, is that everyone, in every era, is subject to the times, and even the earlier examples of אמונה הסברית  are only to be regarded as provisional. As mentioned, this is a very important point and it could be expanded at great length.

שתי דרכים לאמונה, האחת האמיתית המוחלטת, והשנית ההסברית. האחרונה משתנה היא לפי הזמנים. ישנם זמנים שאם יהיה איזה עיון מתפרסם ומוחזק, היה מזיק ליסוד דברי אמונה ברורים מצד האמת המוחלטת. ואחרי אשר העולם המדעי קבל צורה אחרת בהמשך הזמן, אבדה האמונה ההסברית ההיא את ערכה, וכבר לא מזיק כלל לשום רעיון אמוני מוחלט הפרסום של אותה ההנחה בעצמה, שהיתה בזמן העבר מזקת בפרסומה. והדברים הולכים עוד יותר, שמזדמן הדבר שצורה הסברית אחת היתה מחוייבת באיזה פרק מפרקי הזמן, עד שקבעה לה אז האמונה ההסברית את צורתה באופן מיוחד, ואחר כך יזיק דוקא אופן זה להאמונה המוחלטה, ושיש חיוב אז לפרסם את ההפך מהאמונה המוסברת אז. יסוד החילוק בין שני חלקי האמונה כבר רמז הרמב”ם, אמנם צריך אומץ לב מיוחד לעמוד בניסיון בעת חשיכה כזאת.

Tied in with this is R. Kook’s comment (Kevatzim, vol. 2, p. 167) that certain great truths can only be revealed together with falsehood, which protects the truth as it were.

ישנן אמתיות גדולות, שאינן יכולות להתגלות בעולם כי אם דוקא במעטה של שקר, ומעטה של שקר השומר את האמת נעטר גם הוא באור האמת. ופקוחי עינים יודעים להבדיל בין המעטה לעוטהו, ופחותי הנפש מביטים באור האמת בשביל מעטה השקר שלה, ונמוכי הדעת אינם מכבדים את האמת יותר מהכבוד הראוי למעטהו הנאהב אצלם לפי תכונתם הנמוכה.

One can easily come up with a number of examples of this. Just think of all the foolish talk about God and His nature. It seems that every preacher feels it is OK to talk about what God “wants”, about how God gets “angry”, or is “upset”, or is “pleased”, etc. A little thought will reveal that none of these descriptions of God can be true in an absolute sense, but since these descriptions are thought necessary in order for people to believe in the ultimate truths, i.e., the existence and providence of God, they are tolerated. (See Guide 3:28 for Maimonides’ discussion of “necessary truths”.)

Since I mentioned R. Isaac Arama earlier in this post, let me give an example of this from his writings.[18] Arama asks what is the point of the commandment to build a mishkan. It is not as if God is a physical being who needs a place to live. Yet in order that the masses have a God with whom they could feel connected, that is, a God who exercises providence, the Lord was prepared to compromise and allow them to believe that he actually was found in the mishkan. Here are some of Arama’s words:

כי באומרו ולא יכול משה לבוא אל אהל מועד ויתר להם הרחקת הגשמות למה שיורה שהיה שם דבר ממשיי המעכבו לבא לשם. וזה לפי שלא יראה להמון דבר של מציאות זולת זה. ובאומרו כי שכן עליו הענן ויתר אצלם ענין ההעתק ממקום למקום לקבל מהם שירות ועבודה כי בזה יסמוך לבם על השגחתו עליהם. ובאומרו וכבוד ה’ מלא את המשכן לא נשמר מהתקוממות במקום והיותו כמלך הקובע ישיבתו באמצע המלכות

Kevatzim mi-Ketav Yad Kodsho, vol. 2, p. 129: R. Kook tells us that true belief cannot exist without the possibility of unbelief
.

האמונה בטהרתה תצא דוקא על ידי אפשרות של כפירה בלא שום הגבלה

This is very similar to the sentiments expressed by R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg.[19] What it means is that true faith is stormy, on the edge, as it were. There are easier paths, where one is perhaps guaranteed “peace of mind.” However, this cannot be regarded as authentic religious faith. Paradoxically, true faith, the faith that keeps you up at night, can easily turn into unbelief. R. Kook also explains, ibid., p. 149, that this true faith can only be developed through freedom of thought. That is, while obedience can be assured by closing off thought, one can never reach what R. Kook terms אור א-להים if one’s thought is controlled.

Even when unbelief does arise, R. Kook does not see this as all bad. As a kabbalist, he believes that there are sparks of holiness in everything, even in unbelief. According to R. Kook, when the unbelief is directed in an ethical direction, then this too can be seen as part of the search for God (ibid., p. 151). In other words, even the atheists are engaged in derishat ha-Shem when they work for the betterment of humanity, and it unfortunate that they do not realize this.

המהומה הכפרנית כל זמן שהיא עסוקה במגמות מוסריות הרי היא ממש דרישת ד’. המוסר והרחבתו, הגדלת ערכם של החיים, ענוגם ושאיפותיהם, הוא בעצמו דרישת ד’, יותר משארי דרישות הבאות ברחשי לב המתעוררים על פי איזה דמיונות פנימיות שאין בהם הטבה מעשית לסדרי החיים. מכל מקום אומללים הם בני אדם כל זמן שאינם יודעים שכל מה שהם עסוקים לרדוף אחריו במובן המוסרי ובקשת הטוב זהו דרישת ד’, ונהרה רבה תופיע עליהם כשיגלה להם רז זה.

R. Kook also sees other positive elements in unbelief (pp. 166, 167). There are people who assume that there is no afterlife, or any reward and punishment. The positive aspect of these mistaken beliefs is that the unbelievers’ good works are not performed in order to receive reward, but for their own sake. This is a very high level of service, something Jews realized long before Kant.

יצר הרע בא לאדם לפעמים להוכיח לו שאין לו תקוה לעולם הבא. – ידע נאמנה, שהוא עומד להתעלות במעלה גדולה מאד, עד שיהי’ עובד ד’ שלא על מנת לקבל פרס, כי אם מאהבה שכלית טהורה.

הכפירה בשכר ועונש מחנכת את הבריות לעשות טוב מצד עצם הטוב. וכל מה שיתרבו עושי טוב באמת, כן יתמעט ההכרח של מציאות רעיון הכפירה, שאיננו כי אם אמצעי תרבותי לזה המצב.

Even the very thought of God when engaged in the good is not the highest level, so again, paradoxically, unbelief prepares the ground for service on the highest level (ibid., p. 166).

הצורך לחשוב על דבר א-להים היא ירידה גדולה, שהיא דרושה לאדם בתור רפואה. הכפירה היא הכנה שלילית לצורך העילוי העליון שלא יהיה שום צורך לחשוב על דבר א-להות, כי אם עצם החיים יהיה אור א-להים

Finally, let me call attention to one more interesting point about faith. R. Jacob Wreschner, Seder Yaakov (Jerusalem, 2010), vol. 2, p. 425, records that he heard from his father that R. Yerucham Levovitz had religious doubts in his youth, and R. Isaac Blazer helped him overcome these. R. Wreschner states that it is no insult to a great figure to reveal this information, though he notes that R. Judah Zev Segal, when he tells this story, does not reveal who the subject is.[20]

Anyone who thinks about the place of belief in traditional Judaism is aware of the phenomenon called, for a lack of a better term, “orthopraxy.” Many people assume that this is a fairly recent phenomenon. Yet already in the nineteenth century R. Solomon Kluger wrote about people who were completely observant but did not have proper beliefs.[21] He sees these people as worse than typical sinners who actually violate prohibitions (he specifically mentions sexual prohibitions).

בימים הראשונים היה הרשעות במעשה. אם ראו באיש אחד שאינו פרוץ בעריות וכדומה ידעו שהוא כשר. לא כן עתה הרשעות תלוי בלב ויתכן שיהי’ מקיים כל התורה ובלבו ישים ארבו ויש בלבו שמץ אפיקרסת [!] והוא גרוע מן הרשעים הראשונים שהי’ בהם כמה חטאים

Someone who is attuned to R. Kook’s way of thinking will approach matters from a completely different perspective, and see the phenomenon of orthopraxy in a much more positive light. Consider the following: The so-called orthoprax individual does not have a traditional view about the Torah. Yet he does not use this as an excuse to live a secular life, what in yeshivah we referred to as a life of “hefkerut”. On the contrary, this individual chooses to bind himself to the Torah, to observe mitzvot, to “inconvenience” himself when it would be much easier to abandon it all. How is one to judge a person who, whatever his theology, makes enormous financial sacrifices to send his children to Jewish schools and happily gives to a variety of Orthodox causes? How is one to judge such a person who when stuck in a strange place for Shabbat asks the hotel clerk to open his door (as it is electronic) and refuses to carry a map on the unfamiliar street, a person who chooses to live on fruit because there is no kosher restaurant in the city he is visiting (to give just a few typical challenges that Orthodox and orthoprax Jews confront)?

R. Kook’s insights about the religious significance of the non-observant who were building the land of Israel must be multiplied many times over when dealing with completely observant Jews who sacrifice in so many ways for Torah and halakhah, even though their beliefs are not “Orthodox”. Yet this is a phenomenon which, as far as I know, R. Kook does not mention. Rather, he refers to those who because of their belief in biblical criticism rejected all observance. They assumed that if you don’t accept the divine origin of the mitzvot that there is no need to observe them. R. Kook rejected this assumption and argued that there is a good reason to observe mitzvot even if one does not have a traditional view of the Torah’s authorship.[22] I will flesh out R. Kook’s argument in the next post.

3. In an earlier post I referred to Mel Scult’s new book, The Radical American Judaism of Mordecai M. Kaplan. Scult discusses the burning of Kaplan’s siddur at an Agudas ha-Rabbonim gathering on June 12, 1945, at which Kaplan was himself also put in herem. The significance of this event can be seen in that there were over two hundred rabbis in attendance.[23]

Here is the text of the herem from Ha-Pardes, July 1945.

The sentence immediately before the text of the herem clearly implies that the burning of the book was part of the ceremony (and see also Ha-Pardes, Nov. 1945 p. 23). Thus, Jeffrey S. Gurock and Jacob J. Schacter had good reason to write as follows:

Scult, Judaism Faces the Twentieth Century, p. 420, n. 38, suggests that the act of book burning was unintentioned and not directed by the rabbinic leaders themselves, but all evidence cited above points to the contrary. This was clearly an official act, sanctioned by those assembled as a fitting and appropriate conclusion to a most serious and solemn deliberation.[24]

Zachary Silver, who has recently written a very nice article on the episode, available here, writes as follows:

Mel Scult’s biography of Kaplan mentions that the event occurred, but he does not believe that Agudat HaRabbanim burned the book as part of the formal ceremony. Rather, he says that the burning occurred incidentally at the back of the room. However, Agudat HaRabbanim’s documents illustrate that it was a previously scripted formula.[25]

This burning of a Jewish book, coming so soon after the end of the Holocaust and so much at odds with the American tradition of freedom of expression, horrified both Jews and non-Jews. The fact that the excommunication and burning were covered in The New York Times only made matters worse, and everyone assumed that this was an officially sanctioned action of Agudat ha-Rabbanim.

In writing about the event in his diary, Kaplan referred to “rabbinical gangsters who resort to nazi [!] methods in order to regain their authority.”[26] He later publicly stated as follows:

It is just too bad that men who call themselves rabbis should in this day and age resort to the barbarous procedure of outlawing a man without giving him a hearing, and to the Nazi practice of burning books that displease them. God save us from such leadership and from the disgrace it is likely to bring upon Jews.[27]

Responding to the horror aroused by the book-burning, Agudat ha-Rabbanim publicly declared that it had nothing to do with this action. It claimed that the burning was done independently by one of its members. Silver writes:

The Union of Orthodox Rabbis later disavowed responsibility for the book burning, claiming that the event was not a scheduled part of the ceremony but rather the act of one rabbi from the audience who acted on his own, after the service was completed. This version seems unlikely, however, since the article about the excommunication in HaPardes, the unofficial magazine of Agudat HaRabbanim, gives specific justification for the book burning as part of the ceremony and does so in halakhic terms. The more likely scenario is that, after witnessing the heated public reaction, Agudat Harabbanim chose to disavow responsibility for burning the siddur as a face-saving public relations move. Thus, by saying that the burning was not part of the planned activities, the Union of Orthodox Rabbis could attempt to refocus public attention on the greater issues of the heresy of Kaplan and the Conservative movement, rather than on a particularly unsettling segment of the ceremony, which itself evoked memories of Nazi ritual book burnings. Of course, the uproar implies that Agudat Ha-Rabbanim did not realize that most Americans would be troubled by a book burning in 1945 – a lapse of judgment that would manifest the extent by which the Union of Orthodox Rabbis had lost touch with contemporary currents in American culture.[28]

Years after the event, R. Norman Lamm reflected on the book burning.

If we want to win people over to Orthodoxy, we need to present ourselves as measured, mature, and moderate people with deep faith and the right practice, but we do not insult others and we do not damage or condemn them. Coming out with issurim [decrees that forbid particular actions] against everyone else is like another Fatwa. When I was younger there was a heretic by the name of Mordecai Kaplan, and the Agudas Harabbonim had this whole big book burning party. I thought it was ridiculous to have a book burning in the twentieth century. It didn’t make anybody decide to become more religious observant. Nobody who was reading his books said[,] “If important Orthodox rabbis burned them, we’re not going to read them.” If anything, it aroused interest in people who otherwise would not have wanted to read these books. But in addition, what it accomplished was that it got people to look at the Orthodox as fanatics. That’s no way to make friends and win people over to Orthodoxy.[29]

What we see from what I have quoted is that there is agreement that it was Agudat ha-Rabbanim that sanctioned the burning of the siddur.[30] Silver adds, “It is unclear who actually burned the siddur, as the report in HaPardes uses the passive voice.”

In fact, we do know who burnt the siddur, Based on this information, we can also determine that the other point that “everyone” knows, that it was Agudat ha-Rabbanim that sanctioned the burning, is incorrect.

In 1945 The Jewish Reconstructionist Foundation published a booklet, A Challenge to Freedom of Worship. I don’t know why, but this is a very rare publication. I have therefore uploaded it here. From this booklet, you get a sense of the great ill-will produced by the excommunication of Kaplan and the burning of his siddur. This is what appears on the very first page of the booklet.

I first saw this booklet shortly before R. Joseph Ralbag passed away. At that time he was not well and I could not schedule a time to speak with him. However, at my request R. Aryeh Ralbag asked his father some questions about the episode, and I can report the following from the late R. Joseph Ralbag. R. Ralbag did not decide on the spur of the moment to burn the siddur. Rather, he knew he was going to do this ahead of time and even discussed it with his future wife. Yet the other members of Agudat ha-Rabbanim were unaware of his plans until he lit the siddur on fire. In other words, this was an individual act by R. Ralbag and, as Agudat ha-Rabbanim would later state, it was not sanctioned by them. This testimony, from the main protagonist of the event, should finally settle the matter. (Although R. Ralbag denied burning the siddur in the telephone call referred to on the page printed above, this was obviously only said to protect himself after the controversy broke out. As indicated, hundreds of people saw him burn the siddur.[31])

One more interesting point about this episode is that Rav Tzair (Chaim Tchernowitz) claimed, in the course of an attack against Kaplan’s siddur, that according to halakhah it was forbidden to burn the work.[32] I would be curious to hear what some of the readers make of this.

שמה שהחכמים גזרו על ס”ת שכתבו מין שישרף, אינו אלא מפני שהשמות לא נכתבו בקדושה, ואפשר שנכתבו לשם ע”ז, אבל בנידון דידן הרי לא את כה”י של קפלן שרפו, אלא את הסידור, שסידר אותו יהודי תמים, שבידוע שלא כוון לשום דבר אחר כשסידר את אותיות השם, ובכן אסור היה לשרוף את האזכרות שבו. ובזה עשו הרבנים שלא כדין ששרפו את הסידור (אולם הם הודיעו שלא גזרו שריפה על הסידור אלא שצורבא מרבנן אחד שרפו על דעת עצמו)

4. Before his passing, R. David Hollander asked if I could review the memoir he had written. At the time he asked me, I was too busy to do so, but hoped that I would later have the opportunity. After Hollander’s death I was unable to find out what became of the memoir. (Hollander did not have any children who would have inherited it.) Perhaps a reader will be able to help in this matter.

5. Last year Yisrael Kashkin produced a nice poster of religious Zionist rabbis. You can see it here. He has recently produced the following poster of German rabbis.

You can order framed 8.5 x 14″ and laminated 8.5 x 14″ copies. The former are meant for a wall and the latter for a sukkah. Anyone interested should write to thetidesociety@gmail.com 

Returning to the matter of Jewish men and non-Jewish women, it is noteworthy that the Spanish scholar R. Solomon Alami (14th-15th centuries), in his ethical will to his son, specifically warns him to abstain from sexual relations with non-Jewish women.[1] Note how in the following passage he also assumes that Reuben actually had sexual relations with his father’s concubine (an opinion also shared by talmudic sages, though in my experience the alternative view, that he didn’t actually do this, appears to be the standard approach among contemporary darshanim).

בבת אל נכר אל תחלל בריתך. היה גבור כארי למשול בתאוותך, תהי צדיק מושל יראת א-להים להטיבך באחריתך. השמר ממר ממות ופרוש מן הזימה. טמאת השם רבת המהומה. וזכור דבר זמרי ורעתו. וחרפת שבטו ברדוף נשיאם תאוותו. הלא אל אלה חטא שלמה מלך ישראל ונחלקה מלכותו. וזכור צדקת יוסף אשר גבר על יצרו ולא נתן מאוויי גבירתו. ותשב באיתן קשתו. עם גודל יופיו ועדונו והוא בבחרותו. והיה זה סיבה לשום במרום מדרגתו. וכל בית אביו חיו בזכותו. ונתנה לו הבכורה ונדחה ראובן בחללו יצועי אביו מבכורתו. כי לא יאות הכבוד לנקשר בזימה בכחשו.

An Italian list of takkanot from 1418 also speaks about this problem, that Jewish men thought that there was nothing wrong with having sex with non-Jewish women[2]: הנשים הנכריות מותרות בעיניהם. The fact that the various moralists speak about this issue shows that it was a real problem. While suggestions were offered to help men overcome sexual temptations, there was a recognition that, as the Talmud, Hullin 11b, states, “There is no guardian against unchastity,” אין אפוטרופוס לעריות. This principle is quoted by R. Joseph Karo in Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 22:15.[3] Yet interestingly enough, in R. Karo’s Magid Meisharim[4] he is told that since he is entirely involved with service of God he cannot be seduced even by a naked woman.

מאחר שלבך תמיד אינו מהרהר אלא בעבודתי אפילו תפגע באשה ערומה לא תבוא לידי חטא

We know that there were some who argued that it was better for men to use Jewish (single) prostitutes so that they not come to having sex with married women or engage in homosexual acts.[5] (I am referring to places where Jews could not avail themselves of non-Jewish prostitutes, as the punishment for this was often execution.) R. Moses Hagiz[6] argues against this position, stating that we do not permit a lesser offense to prevent one from violating a more severe offense. He even calls this approach hukot ha-goyim.

והלכו בחוקת הגיום שזו היא טענת פטור אצלם אכן אנו בני ישראל הקדושים כשהשני איסורים הם מדאורייתא או תרי דרבנן אין לנו להתיר הא’ מחשש שלא יבא לעשות האחר

This passage is quoted by R. Isaac Lampronte, Pahad Yitzhak, s.v. boel aramit. He then adds that he heard from a hakham that sex with a Jewish prostitute is worse than sex with a non-Jew because of the possibility that that one will violate the niddah prohibition.

דיכול לבוא לאיסור נדה שהיא בכרת

Notice how he doesn’t say that one will certainly violate the niddah prohibition, only that it is a possibility. What this means is that even the Jewish prostitutes were expected to go to the mikveh, but that one can’t assume that they would indeed do so, and this explains why sex with a non-Jewish woman is preferable.[7]

But he adds that this should not be said publicly or to an ignorant person as this knowledge could lead men to have sex with non-Jews since they will mistakenly conclude that the prohibition is not so serious.

אין אומרים דבר זה בפרהסיא או בפני עם הארץ, כדי שלא ינהגו פריצות בביאות גויות.

What we are discussing was not simply theoretical since R. Isaac Arama, writing in fifteenth-century Spain, tells us that not only did the Jewish community leaders (שופטי ישראל) not take prostitution seriously, but in a few (קצת)[8] communities Jewish prostitutes were welcomed and even supported with Jewish communal funds (!).[9] This was done as the prostitutes were thought to be performing a public service, since without them it was thought that men would be led to have sex with married women or non-Jewish women (which as mentioned already could lead to execution). From a responsum of R. Judah ben Asher,[10] we see that even in an earlier era this point had been made with regard to “loose women” (and was rejected by R. Judah who thought it was better to have sex with a non-Jewish woman for whom the niddah prohibition did not apply):

ומוטב שיסתכנו הגופים מן הנפשות

Arama tells us that on different occasions he argued with the communal leaders, and also before גדוליהם which I assume means their rabbis, that it is one thing if someone commits a sin in private. In such a case, Arama would probably agree that it would be better for a man to have sex with a Jewish prostitute than with a with a non-Jew. (It must be that these prostitutes went to the mikveh, as Arama doesn’t mention anything about the niddah prohibition.) But Arama is firm that it is absolutely forbidden for the community – and he includes in this בתי דיניהם showing that the rabbis were complicit – to countenance any sin whatsoever, in this case welcoming in Jewish prostitutes, even if this strict stance leads to people committing greater sins or being executed by the non-Jews.[11]

R. Isaac Bar Sheshet (Rivash) had earlier also testified to the fact that the “gedolei ha-dor” had acquiesced to the existence of Jewish prostitutes in order to prevent men from visiting non-Jewish women, with all the dangers this entailed.[12] Contrary to Avraham Grossman,[13] the Rivash is not saying that this is what the “gedolei ha-dor” should do when faced with such a circumstance. Rather, he is decrying what they did. I am curious to hear if readers agree with me. Here are the words of the Rivash:

והרמב”ן ז”ל כתב בפ’ התורה שהיא אזהרה לב”ד שלא יניחו בנות ישראל להפקיר עצמן לישב בעינים על הדרך או בקובה של זונות לזנות לכל יבא. בואו ונצווח על דורנו שאין דומה יפה, וגדולי הדור העלם יעלימו את עינים פן יכשלו בני פריצי עמנו בנכריות ותצא אש ומצאה קוצים ונאכל גדיש

Returning to intermarriage, we see something very interesting in Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer, ch. 39. According to this text (which is paralleled by other midrashim[14]), Jacob’s sons married their sisters. The explanation given is that they did so in order not to marry the local inhabitants:

כדי שלא יתחתנו בעמי הארצות

This is quite an incredible assertion, since incest is forbidden under the Noahide code. If there were no eligible marriage partners, one would have expected Jacob’s sons not to marry at all rather than marrying their sisters. R. David Luria, in his commentary on the passage, does not even deal with this problem, instead noting that elsewhere in rabbinic literature one finds that Jacob’s sons did marry the local women. (For some reason, R. Luria’s edition does not include the words כדי שלא יתחנתו בעמי הארצות, which comes right after the text stating that Jacob’s sons married their sisters. This does not appear to be an act of censorship, since the real issue is not the explanation for their marriages, but the incestuous marriages themselves, and this is still found in R. Luria’s edition.)

The Tosafists have a simple response to this problem: Since the Torah had not yet been given Jacob’s sons only observed what they wanted.[15]

מאחר שלא נצטוו על התורה אע”פ שידעוה ברוה”ק מה שהיו רוצין היו מקיימין ומה שלא היו רוצין היו מניחין.

Nahmanides, Commentary to Gen. 38:2, assumes that each of the brothers married one of the twins of the other brothers, but not their own twins. Furthermore, no one actually married a complete sister, i.e., sons of Leah did not marry daughters of Leah. Thus, they did not violate Noahide Law. (I think this is probably also what the Tosafists assumed in the passage mentioned above.) While Nahmanides’ understanding works with some of the midrashim, it cannot be fit into the language of Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer, ch. 36, which states explicitly that each son was born together with his future wife:

  וכולן נולדו זווגן עמם חוץ מיוסף שלא נולדה זווגה עמו

Furthermore, Bereshit Rabbah 80 states that Simeon married Dinah, and she was his sister from the same mother. It is precisely in order to answer this problem that a Tosafist cites the Aggadah[16] that Dinah was actually first impregnated in Rachel, and God later transferred her to Leah, meaning that Simeon and Dinah were really not from the same mother.[17] (Many have pointed out that this has implications to the debate about the status of children born from surrogate mothers.[18])

The Maharal explains that the situation of the brothers marrying their sisters was an exceptional case, since if they did not marry them the only available marriage partners would have been pagan women.[19] As the Maharal notes, the parallel is to the sons of Adam who were permitted to marry their sisters since there was no one else for them to marry. This permission to marry their sisters was known to Jacob through ruah ha-kodesh, and the Maharal adds that one should not think that this contradicts the Torah, “for the one who gave the Torah forbade [it] and the one who gave the Torah [also] permitted [it].” In other words, God is the source of the law so he can choose to alter it if he chooses.

This approach can also explain the story of the akedah which troubles so many. If the reason not to murder is because God says so, then God can, if He wishes, permit murder in certain cases. I don’t want to get into the issue of Natural Law and the Euthyphro problem. Suffice it to say that most people would assume that the prohibition against incest is indeed part of Natural Law and not simply because God forbids it. Yet it must be noted that Sanhedrin 58b records a view that the Noahide code does not forbid marriage between brothers and sisters. According to Sanhedrin 58b, and this is followed by pretty much all commentators and halakhists, a non-Jew is permitted to marry his daughter. See also Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Melakhim 9:5.[20] That at least some of the prohibitions on incest are not part of Natural Law would also seem to be a necessary conclusion of the Sifrei,[21] which states that the Children of Israel were driven to tears when Moses told them that they could no longer marry their sisters (from their fathers).[22]

וישמע משה את העם בוכה למשפחותיו . . . שהיו ישראל מצטערים בשעה שאמר להם משה לפרוש מן העריות מלמד שהיה אדם נושא את אחותו ואחות אביו ואחות אמו ובשעה שאמר להם משה לפרוש מן העריות היו מצטערים.

R. Ari Chwat has made the following interesting point.[23] The fact that the Sages state that the sons of Jacob married their sisters, something forbidden under Noahide law, illustrates how important it was for them to show that the brothers did not marry Canaanite women. In order to free them from the stain of intermarriage, the Sages were even prepared to claim that they had incestuous marriages. This shows how bad intermarriage was regarded by them.

נראה שכך יש להבין גם את המדרש (פרקי דר’ אליעזר פל”ה [צ”ל ל”ו] וב”ר פ, יא) שבני יעקב נשאו את אחיותיהם, למרות שיש בכך משום האשמתם בגילוי עריות, דבר שאסור אפילו לבני נח מלפני מתן תורה. אלא שרצו חז”ל ללמד זכות על אבותינו עצמם, ולנקותם מעבירת נשואי תערובת, עבירה בעייתית בדורם של חז”ל. כלומר: היות ועבירת נשואי אחיות לא עמדה על סדר יומם של חז”ל, ממילא האשמה זו תפגע בכבודן של אבותינו פחות מאשר להאשימם בנשואי תערובת, מעשה המתאים רק לשפלים ביותר בעם.

Regarding intermarriage, take a look at the following fascinating responsum from R. Meir of Rothenburg that appears in Teshuvot Ba’alei ha-Tosafot, ed. Agus, no. 72 (pp. 152-153). 

It begins by referring to the widow of a man “who was not pure”. What does this mean? From the responsum it would appear that this woman was “married” to a non-Jew. Based on the answer, it seems that she was claiming that she had done nothing wrong with this “marriage”, as she had received rabbinic permission, and therefore she should not suffer any stigma.[24] R. Meir tells us that he knew a woman of whom it was said that the rabbis permitted her to have sexual relations with a non-Jew. He also states that he heard that in France the rabbis permitted this for several women. What this appears to mean is that the rabbis permitted the Jewish women to live with non-Jewish men (since the rabbis were certainly not permitting promiscuous sexual relations). Irving Agus reasonably suggests that the reason these “intermarriages” were permitted is that refusal to allow them would have endangered Jewish lives.[25]

R. Meir does not accept this permission at all, and points out that the talmudic examples of Jewish women having sexual relations with non-Jews were when they were forced. Yael’s sexual encounter with Sisera was intended to weaken him out so she could then kill him. Following R. Meir’s responsum, there is an additional note, apparently from R. Mordechai ben Hillel, stating that it is not certain that had Esther and Yael consulted with halakhic authorities that they would have been given permission for their actions. The copyist rejects this point, noting that since the actions of Esther and Yael were done in order to save the Jewish people, what they did was certainly permitted. Howewver, one cannot use these cases to also permit other women to have sexual relations with non-Jews.

On the general matter of sex, I would like to call readers’ attention to a book that recently appeared. It is called Devar Seter and no author is given. You can see the book here.

This book is, as far I know, the most liberal work on the halakhot of sex ever to appear. I am worried that if I get too explicit and explain what I mean by “liberal” that some readers’ internet protection will prevent them from accessing this post. Therefore, I won’t say any more about the book except than I find it interesting that a number of rabbis who praise it only feel comfortable doing so anonymously.

Another book on sex recently appeared, this time in English, which also has a very liberal perspective, although it is not focused on halakhah but is a self-help book. It is authored by Rabbi David Ribner and Jennie Rosenfeld and is titled The Newlywed’s Guide to Physical Intimacy.[26]

A reader alerted me to an article on the book available here, and asked if I could comment on the following excerpt.

It is widely believed that ultra-Orthodox Jews are so concerned about modesty that they have sex through a hole in a sheet.

But this is a total myth, says Ribner: “There has never been a group of Jews anywhere in the world that has advocated having sex through a hole in a sheet. That has never happened. It doesn’t happen today, it never happened in history. It’s not advocated in any text within the Jewish community.”

I have no idea if there is anyone today who uses a sheet for sexual intercourse. There is certainly no community that insists on this (not even the Gur Hasidim, whose sexual behavior is extremely ascetic). However, it is simply incorrect to say that this action is not advocated in any text. Usually, when you have a widespread rumor like this, there is some basis for it, even if the original source has been distorted.

What is the origin of the idea of sex through a sheet? The Jerusalem Talmud, Yevamot 1:1, states that R. Yose ben Halafta, who performed the levirate marriage with his sister-in-law, had sex in this fashion: דרך סדין בעל. In case the words דרך סדין were not clear to readers, R. Baruch ben Isaac explains in Sefer ha-Terumah, Hilkhot Halitzah (Jerusalem, 1983), p. 46a, that it means that R. Yose ben Halafta made a hole in the sheet[27]: 

This was done so that his personal pleasure be reduced and the focus be on the mitzvah.[28] The Talmud records that he had five children with this woman, and it is not clear if he used the sheet throughout their marriage or only in conceiving the first child (see Korban ha-Edah, ad loc., and also R. Hayyim Kanievsky’s commentary).[29]

If this was all we had, it would not be of great significance. All it would show was that one talmudic sage used the “hole in the sheet” method. There is no implication from the passage that anyone else adopted this approach. Yet based on this text, R. Meir of Rothenburg indeed assumed that when it came to levirate marriage this was the general practice among the pious during tannaitic times.[30]

ואפי’ חסידים הראשונים דור התנאים כשהיו מיבמין היו בועלין דרך סדין כדמשמע בירושלמי (פ”ק דיבמות ה”א) ר’ יוסי בר’ חלפתא הי’ בועל יבמתו דרך סדין

R. Jacob Emden, whose writings include a good deal about sexual matters, assumes that this type of hasidut is only applicable with levirate marriage, but not with one’s wife.[31]

דווקא ביבמה יש מקום לחסידות כזה לא זולת

There is also another significant passage, and it comes from the Vilna Gaon. He comments on the following text from the Shulhan Arukh, Orah Hayyim 240:8:

וי”מ מגלה טפח ומכסה טפח שלא היה ממרק האבר בשעת תשמיש כדי למעט הנאתו

The point of this text is that even during sex one should attempt to lessen the pleasure. In his note on this passage, the Gaon ties R. Joseph Karo’s words to what we have just seen in the Jerusalem Talmud. He then states that although one can say that R. Jose ben Halafta acted this way only because he was performing a religious ritual (levirate marriage), nevertheless, “it is also proper to act this way with one’s wife.” In other words, in contrast to what R. Jacob Emden wrote, the Gaon tells us that the practice of sex through a sheet is according to one opinion a valid and even recommended method of lessening sexual pleasure. A well-known talmid hakham who examined this text at my request wrote to me that since the Gaon does not object it implies acceptance, meaning that the Gaon would have approved of the proverbial hole in the sheet.

Use of a sheet would appear to be contradicted by the following passage in Ketubot 48a:

R. Joseph learnt: Her flesh [שארה] implies close bodily contact, viz., that he must not treat her in the manner of the Persians who perform their conjugal duties in their clothes. This provides support for [a ruling of] R. Huna who laid down that a husband who said, ‘I will not [perform conjugal duties] unless she wears her clothes and I mine’, must divorce her and give her also her ketubah.

Yet this text, which rejects the approach of the Persians, is itself opposed by R. Gamaliel who stated: “For three things do I like the Persians: They are temperate in their eating, modest in the privy, and chaste in another matter [i.e., sexual behavior]” (Berakhot 8b).[32]

Another interesting point related to sex and seforim is the following. Megillah 13b states: “R. Johanan said: Bigthan and Teresh were two Tarseans and conversed in the Tarsean language. They said: From the day this woman came we have been able to get no sleep. Come, let us put poison in the dish so that he [Ahasuerus] will die.”

Bigthan and Teresh couldn’t get any sleep since they could not go to sleep as long as the king was awake. But why was the king not going to sleep? Rashi explains that he found Esther so attractive that he had lots of sex with her, and this was keeping him up at night.

מתוך שהיתה חביבה עליו היה מרבה בתשמיש

R. Baruch Epstein, Torah Temimah, Esther 2:23, offers a different explanation of the Talmud. He claims that Ahasuerus was up at night because he so enjoyed taking walks with and talking to Esther.

כי היה מטייל ומשוחח עמה הרבה

What I can’t figure out is why R. Epstein expects us to prefer his understanding, which turns Ahasuerus into a perfect gentlemen, over that of Rashi.[33]

Finally, let me offer an example of distortion when it comes to sex. R. Israel Yanovski, Taharat Yisrael, vol. 2, p. 100b, no. 33, states:

מי ששם אצבעו בתורף אשה פריצות גדולה היא ויש בו איסור

The source offered for this surprising invasion of the marital bedroom is R. Yerucham, Toledot Adam ve-Havah, vol. 1, netiv 23 (p. 192d in the standard edition). Yet R. Yerucham says something very different.[34]

מי ששם אצבעו בתורף אשת איש פריצות גדולה היא ויש בו איסור ואפילו המסתכל אבל אינו חייב מלקות

The only question is if R. Yanovski’s quotation was a careless error (copied perhaps from R. Dovber Karasik, Pithei Olam, Orah Hayyim 240:16, who uses the same mistaken wording) or an intentional distortion due to puritanical feelings.[35]  R. Moshe Stern, Be’er Moshe, vol. 3 p. 204, assumes the former while I think the latter is also possible. I say this because Taharat Yisrael is quite an extreme work when it comes to sexual matters, which R. Yanovski wants to limit as much as possible. Thus, he praises those tzadikim whose children, we are told, equal exactly the number of times these tzadikim had sexual relations. In other words, if a certain tzaddik only had three children, then in his entire life he only had sex three times.[36]

As for other pious people, R. Yanovski, based on kabbalistic sources, tells them to avoid sexual relations on Rosh Ha-Shanah (and tavo alav berakhah if one can abstain for the entire Ten Days of Penitence), Hoshana Rabbah, the three days preceding Shavuot and also on Shavuot, from Rosh Hodesh Av until the 11th of Av, the first and second night of Passover, the nights of Shemini Atzeret and Simhat Torah, and hol ha-moed Pesah (unless it falls on Shabbat). If this wasn’t enough, he also assumes that sex is forbidden on Hanukkah and Purim and any day that you don’t recite tahanun (!).[37]

בחנוכה ופורים נראה דאסור וכ”ש שאר ימים שאין נופלין על פניהם בהם דאסור בלי ספק

Finally, let me call attention to Berakhot 57b which states that three things resemble the World to Come, “the Sabbath, sunshine, and tashmish.” What does tashmish mean? Normally you would assume it to mean tashmish ha-mitah, i.e., sexual relations. However, the Talmud explains that it doesn’t mean this but refers to “tashmish of the orifices.”R. Samuel Alexandrov claims that the original rabbinic saying indeed meant what it said, i.e., that sex resembles the pleasure of the World to Come. However, the later sages didn’t want people to focus on sexual matters so they explained the passage in a different way.[38]

Regarding the connection between sex and the World to Come, R. Solomon Alkabetz quotes “the kedoshim” that sexual pleasure is one sixtieth of “the true pleasure”, i.e., the World to Come.[39]

To be continued

* * * * * *

Most of R. Yanovski’s Taharat Yisrael (mentioned in this post) focuses on the laws of niddah and mikveh. It was printed twice in Europe and then was reprinted in the United States in 1952. This latter publication was dedicated to the memory of R. Judah Leib Forer, the rabbi of Holyoke, Massachusetts. This page appears at the beginning of the book.

Here is the page of American haskamot added for this edition. This is one of a handful of haskamot from R. Soloveitchik, and I think is the first to appear in print.

Regarding R. Forer, who was an outstanding student of R. Hayyim Soloveitchik, there is a good deal of information from family members available on a website here. Among the points noted was that R. Shach was a student of his.

Here is the title page of Milei de-Igrot, consisting of Torah letters between R. Forer and R. Mordechai Gifter. There is also one letter from R. Shach to R. Forer. On p. 181 we also see that R. Forer delivered a shiur at RIETS. (There is another volume of Milei de-Igrot and this contains letters between R. Gifter and his teacher R. Moses Aaron Poleyeff. There is a good deal of biographical information about R. Gifter in this latter volume, including his difficult relationship with R. Bernard Revel.) 

The one point I would like to add to all the recollections that appear on the website I have referred to is that R. Forer was unique in that he was the spiritual leader of both the Orthodox and Conservative communities. That is, the membership of the Conservative synagogue liked R. Forer so much that while they wanted a mixed pew congregation, they also wanted him as their rabbi. This information was confirmed to me by elderly members of the Orthodox and Conservative synagogues. What is not known is if R. Forer ever actually attended the Conservative synagogue or if he was ever officially recognized as their rabbi. He was, however, the only spiritual leader in the town, recognized by all, and I don’t know of another example in history where there was one rabbi for both the Orthodox and Conservative congregations.

Marc B. Shapiro

Here is the passage as it appears in the censored Mikraot Gedolot Ha-Maor.

Fortunately, the new English translation of Siftei Hakhamim published by Metsudah includes the passage in its entirety.

2. In a recent post I referred to the Yemenite Rabbi Shlomo Korah and his experience in Lakewood. R. Korah has also published a commentary on Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah entitled Sefat Melekh. Although R. Korah presumably knows Arabic, for some reason he didn’t know what to make of the word שָם found throughout the Mishneh Torah, including right at the beginning:

יסוד היסודות ועמוד החכמות לידע שים שם מצוי ראשון

Numerous commentaries struggle with the word, and R. Korah offers his own interpretation, stating that it should be vocalized with a tzereh under the shin, not a kamatz.[2] Yet R. Samuel Ibn Tibbon, in the introduction to his translation of the Guide, already explained what the word means.

שבערבי כשירצו החכמים לומר שיש בעולם דבר או בנמצא דבר אחד, יאמרו שיש שם דבר אחד, רומזים במלת “שם” אל המציאות.

See also R. Joseph Kafih’s commentary to Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah 1:1. Confusion about the word שם goes back to medieval times, and in a recently published text of the Provencal sage R. Meir ha-Meili we see that he too did not know its meaning.[3]

R. Shlomo Korah should not be confused with R. Ezra Korah who is the translator of a new edition of Maimonides’ Commentary on the Mishnah that was published in 2009. The new translation is not very different than R. Kafih’s translation and is obviously based on the latter. It is also not an improvement on what R. Kafih provided us with. What makes this edition valuable is that each page is full of helpful notes compiled by a team of scholars. In fact, I don’t think anyone can seriously study Maimonides’ Commentary on the Mishnah without making use of this new edition.

Yet there is something deeply problematic about this edition. As is well known, R. Kafih’s translation of Maimonides’ Commentary sparked a new interest in study of this work, and for decades was the text that everyone used.[4] R. Korah’s new edition, which as already indicated is based on that of R. Kafih, only mentions R. Kafih once in the lengthy introduction.[5] Throughout the notes to the Commentary, R. Kafih is not mentioned, but is referred to as יש מי שכתב or יש מי שתרגם.

When will these people ever grow up and realize that just because you don’t agree with someone’s outlook doesn’t mean you can’t be a mensch and give him the scholarly credit he deserves? To give an idea of who R. Kafih was, R. Mordechai Eliyahu went so far as to state that was greater than R. Abraham Maimonides![6]

אנו, שאנו מכירים את הרב יוסף קאפח, הוא יותר טוב מבנו של הרמב”ם, איזה בקיאות יש לו בדברי הרמב”ם, הבן שלו לא ידע והוא ידע.

Here is the English dedication page of the new translation and the Hebrew title page.

Look at what it says in the dedication page. Is it possible that they told the donor that the translation that he was funding would be the first time that the Commentary on the Mishnah would be translated into Hebrew?

3. I have many unpublished rabbinic letters that readers will find interesting. Some of them need to be published in a journal, complete with an introduction and footnotes, as I have done in Milin Havivin, Or Yisrael, and elsewhere. (Discerning readers will note the incongruity of the two journals just mentioned.) For others, I don’t need to do anything but post them, as they are easy to read and self-explanatory.

Here is one such example. It is a 1950 letter from Chief Rabbi Isaac Herzog to R. Isser Yehudah Unterman, chief rabbi of Tel Aviv. I found it in the R. Herzog archive in Jerusalem and I thank the archive for allowing me to reproduce the letter. It is significant in that we see how impressed R. Herzog was with R. Elyashiv, and he hopes that R. Elyashiv will agree to move to Tel Aviv to serve as a dayan.[7]

Recently there was talk that if the Israeli draft bill was passed that the Belzer Rebbe would leave the State of Israel. Here is a February 14, 1948 letter from R. Herzog to a previous Belzer Rebbe. As you can see, R. Herzog was very upset when he heard that the Rebbe was thinking of leaving Eretz Yisrael due to the deteriorating security situation. He thought that this would create a hillul ha-shem and break the spirits of some of the Rebbe’s followers.

According to the Steipler, R. Isaac Zev Soloveitchik (the Brisker Rav) also wanted to leave Israel during the 1948 war, and even traveled to Haifa to receive his exit permit. In the end, he was prevented from leaving for reasons beyond his control, and didn’t continue his efforts in this regard. The Steipler explained that his desire to leave Israel was not because he was afraid but because he thought that the halakhah requires one to leave a place of danger to life.[8] I have difficulty understanding this view, as it would mean that all the Jews in Israel would have been required to leave. Presumably, R. Velvel’s point was that one who has no civilian or military role has to leave, since there is no justification for such a person to put his life in danger as he is not in any way contributing to the military cause.

4. In his latest article criticizing the haredi mentality, R. Berel Wein writes:

The great struggle of most of Orthodoxy in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries against Zionism influenced all Orthodox thought and behavior. As late as 1937, with German Jewry already prostrate before Hitler’s madness and Germany already threatening Poland, the mainstream Orthodox rabbinate in Poland publicly objected to the formation of a Jewish state in the Land of Israel on the grounds that the heads of that state would undoubtedly be secular if not even anti-religious.

A number of people wanted details about this rejection of a Jewish state by the Polish rabbinate in 1937. Let me begin by saying that there is no truth to what Wein reports. The mainstream Polish rabbinate, represented by the Agudat ha-Rabbanim of Poland, never publicly objected to the creation of a Jewish state. The Agudat ha-Rabbanim included many rabbis who were Zionist and thus would never act in the way Wein describes. In fact, R. Yehezkel Lifshitz, author of the respected work Ha-Midrash ve-ha-Ma’aseh, was the head of the Agudat Rabbanim until his death in 1932. He was also a great lover of Zion who supported the creation of a Jewish state.[9]

In 1937, not only did Agudat ha-Rabbanim of Poland not reject the idea of a Jewish state, but it issued a public letter affirming the Jewish right to the Land of Israel. This letter also stated that under no circumstances could Agudat ha-Rabbanim agree with the removal of any part of the Land of Israel from future Jewish sovereignty.[10] Here is part of this letter, containing the Agudat ha-Rabbanim’s strong endorsement of a Jewish state.

ישמעו העמים הנאורים שהצהירו בסן-רימו על זכותנו הישנה והמוחלטת על נחלתנו הקדושה בגבולותיה שהציב בורא עולם ית’ את העוולה הנוראה שרוצים לעשות לנו. מחאתנו הכבירה צריכה להגיע לועדת המנדטים, למלך אנגליא, לנשיא ארצות הברית של אמריקה ולבישוף מקנטרבורי

Even Agudat Yisrael at its 1937 international convention in Marienbad (the third Kenesiyah Gedolah) did not reject a Jewish state, even though it was urged to do so by R. Elchanan Wasserman and R. Aaron Kotler. Neither R. Wasserman nor R. Kotler reflected the outlook of the mainstream Lithuanian or Polish rabbinate in this matter. In fact, according to the report of R. Samuel Aaron Pardes who attended the convention, R. Kotler agreed with R. Wasserman that acceptance of a Jewish state before the coming of the Messiah, even a State that would be completely Torah observant, is a denial of the messianic belief.[11] In other words, they both shared what would later be identified as the Satmar philosophy.

5. The internet is an amazing thing. Yechezkel Moskowitz, who listened to my Torah in Motion classes on R. Hayyim Hirschensohn, asked me where he was buried. I didn’t know but after only a couple of minutes online I found the answer: Riverside Cemetery in Saddlebook, N.J. The cemetery was very helpful and sent both me and Yechezkel a picture of the grave. Seeing that it needed to be cleaned up, Yechezkel took the opportunity to do this mitzvah, and here is how the grave currently looks.

Yechezkel also sent the picture to Kevarim.com and it can be found here here.

Here is a picture of R. Hirschensohn.

There is so much to be said about R. Hirschensohn and his enormous literary output and fascinating ideas in all areas of Torah. (I also have a number of unpublished responsa of his.) I have never seen anyone refer to the many short musings of R. Hirschensohn that appear in the Budapest journal Apiryon. I could have a lengthy post discussing any number of his short comments, that remind me both of R. Kook’s Shemonah Kevatzim and also of Nietzsche. Here is musing no. 46, which appears in Apiryon 3 (1926) p. 183:

יש עיקרי אמונה לישראל אשר אינם בספר רק בדם ובמורשה, ואם הספר מתנגד להם ישבקו לקראי דאינהו דחוקים ואוקמי אנפשייהו

The final words of the sentence are derived from Pesahim 59b, and the translation is (based on Artscroll) “Leave the verses alone, for they force themselves to be interpreted this way.”

What R. Hirschensohn is saying in the first part of the sentence is that there are Jewish principles of faith that are not to be found in a book, but are intuitive, i.e., part of our heritage and our blood. We can each come up with our own examples. One which comes to my mind is that it is a principle of faith not to try to settle Jewish problems by involving the non-Jewish authorities. Over thousands of years we have learnt that such an approach leads to all sorts of negative consequences, both foreseeable and unintended.

The second half of the sentence tells us that when a “book truth” contradicts the principle of faith we know intuitively, then the “book truth” is to be understood (reinterpreted if necessary) to conform to our intuitive faith. One can find similarities to this idea in the writings of R. Kook (see here and here where I discussed the observant Jewish masses’ innate natural morality and how according to R. Kook it is superior to the book-learning-based morality of the scholars).

The significance of R. Hirschensohn’s words is in 1) the denial that basic principles of faith are all found in books, and 2) the assertion that intuitive truths can effectively trump what appears in the canonical books. It is obvious that what when R. Hirschensohn writes of דם ומורשה he is speaking about the experience of the Jewish people as a whole, not about the Torah scholars. The Torah scholars are to be viewed as part of this experience of דם ומורשה , not something apart.[12]

In previous posts I have commented that one of the novelties of haredi ideology is the notion that the “Gedolim” are the carriers of all truth. See here where I quote R. Itzele of Ponovezh’s assertion that it is the people, עמך, not the Gedolim, who represent what today is referred to as Daas Torah.[13] This idea can be found in the Talmud and later rabbinic literature as well. When the Talmud and post-Talmudic authorities state
אם אינם נביאים בני נביאים הם  or
פוק חזי מאי עמא דבר  or
 קול המון כקול ש-די  or
מנהג ישראל תורה  they are not referring to the Gedolim but to the masses of pious Jews, the ones who make up the kehillah kedoshah.

Earlier in this post I referred to R. Kook and Nietzsche. Some readers might be thinking that I should write “R. Kook and Nietzsche lehavdil.” Yet R. Hirschensohn rejects the notion that this word should be used to distinguish Jews from non-Jews. See his commentary to Horayot (Jerusalem, 1926), part 3, p.6a.

For those who do want to use the word, R. Hirschensohn says that it is wrong to say הגוי להבדיל since it is precisely the Jews whom God chose to separate as his special people. Therefore, one should say (if he want to use the word),  “Nietzsche and R. Kook lehavdil.” Yet as mentioned already, R. Hirschensohn rejects the usage of this word when it comes to Jews and non-Jews. In addition to what I already quoted, he writes:

R. Hirschensohn is assumed by everyone to be very liberal, in both his outlook as well as in his halakhic decisions. Yet this is not the entire truth, as we can see from his comment in Apiryon 3 (1926), p. 101, where he describes the “New Orthodoxy”, also known as “Conservative”, as akin to Christianity!

היהדות היא פעולת המוח על הלב הנצרות היא פעולת הלב על המוח, אך רבים מחליפים המושגים, לזאת נמצאים יהודים כשרים רבים אשר הם באמת לדאבון לבבינו נוצרים במסוה יהודית אשר קוראים בשם אורטודוקסיה חדשה או קאנסירוואטיף.

He states that in traditional Judaism  the mind is the center, and the heart is influenced by it, while in Christianity it is the reverse, with the heart influencing the mind. The problem with the “New Orthodox” is that they too put the stress on the heart over the mind. As we all know, when the heart is the determining factor, then Jewish law must be constantly updated in accord with people’s changing feelings.

His very next musing (ibid.) is undoubtedly directed against Hasidism, which he sees as mixing up the heart and mind.

עוד כת אחת יש בישראל אשר אם שהם שומרי תורה, אבל יש בהם עירבוב המושגים והתנגשות הלב והמוח

And finally, what is one to make of the following statement (ibid.) that removes Christian belief (as opposed to worship) from the status of avodah zarah?

אין בהנצרות ע”ז רק אולת ושגעון, אבל ההשתחויה מול התמונות הקדושות להם היא עבודה זרה גמורה ע”כ אמרו יום נצרי לעולם אסור.

Does this mean that a belief alone can never rise to the level of avodah zarah?

There is a lot more I want to say about R. Hirschensohn. In the Limits of Orthodox Theology I mentioned his view that even in Messianic days animal sacrifices would not be reinstated. He also has some significant comments about sacrifices in the introduction to his Nimukei Rashi, vol. 3. (This four volume commentary on Rashi is an outstanding work of scholarship.) 

In discussing the origins of sacrifices, R. Hirschensohn sees no reason to assume that Cain and Abel actually brought sacrifices in the sense we think of. While for us, a sacrifice means placing something on an altar and burning it, R. Hirschensohn states that there is no evidence that this is what Cain and Abel did. It is possible that all Cain did was bring his vegetable offering to the top of a mountain where he would commune with God, and left it there. With Cain’s “meager religious philosophical knowledge” he perhaps thought that after he left it there, God would take it. This is how R. Hirschensohn explains that Cain concluded that his sacrifice was not accepted. He reascended the mountain after a few days and lo and behold, the sacrifice had not been taken by God. For Cain, this meant that God didn’t accept it. And what about Abel’s sacrifice? Here, too, R. Hirschensohn says that there is no reason to think that it was burnt on an altar. Rather, it was a gift to God, and what Abel did was send his offering away, so that it would wander freely. This was the gift to God, not that he killed an animal. If you look at Genesis ch. 4, all it mentions is that Cain and Abel brought their offerings to God, not that they were ever burnt as a sacrifice.

How then did the idea of offering animal sacrifices come to be? The first example we have in the Bible is that of Noah when he leaves the ark. At this time he was not yet permitted to eat meat and yet he concluded that it would be proper to kill animals and birds for God. Where did he get this notion? The question is especially sharp as one would have assumed that Noah would be more interested in ensuring that the species multiply, rather than killing members of them. After Noah offers his sacrifices, we are told (Gen. 8:21), “And the Lord smelled the sweet savour; and the Lord said in His heart: ‘I will not again curse the ground any more for man’s sake; for the imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth; neither will I again smite any more every thing living, as I have done.” This would seem to imply God’s approval of Noah’s sacrifices. R. Hirschensohn’s suggested understanding of this episode is, I think, shocking in its boldness:

ואם שלא רחוק לפרש פסוק זה כמו שהקב”ה צחק בלבו ורחם על קטון דעת האדם החושב להודות לו על ידי עולה וזבח עולת הבהמה ועולת העוף לשורפם ולכלותם בעת אשר הם כל כך מעט בעולם וחושב זה לטובתו, שזה בכלל יצר לב האדם רע מנעוריו שגם מנחה לאל עושה בדרך אכזריות, אמנם צריכים לעמוד על מחשבת האדם ודעתו בהתפלספותו בפליסופיא [!] אלקות איך יוכל לחשוב שבזה יתרצה אל אדוניו?

R. Hirschensohn’s suggested explanation assumes that part of man’s heart being “evil” from his youth was the thought that he should serve God is such a cruel fashion as killing an animal, and God accepting this sacrifice was an example of God being kind to the simpleton Noah who didn’t know any better.

R. Hirschensohn continues by saying that he in no way rejects the sacrificial system. His explanation is only applicable to an era when eating meat was not allowed. However, once the Torah makes clear that killing an animal to eat it is not cruel, we cannot say otherwise. Furthermore, he says, it makes no sense for people who eat meat to object to sacrifices on philosophical grounds.

R. Hirschensohn still has to explain the origin of sacrifices, and his position is quite original. He states that in ancient days people showed their loyalty to one another by a ceremony in which blood was drawn from each of them and mixed together. Later it developed that instead of using human blood to seal covenants, animal blood was used. The next natural development was the notion that sacrifices to the deity should also involve blood, and this is why the nations began to offer sacrifices to their gods, including sacrifices for all the good the god did.

R. Hirschensohn adds that sacrifices represent instinctual religious feelings, and no one who believes in God can degrade such a sign of faith.[14]

Let me now return to what I wrote here concerning R. Hirschensohn’s discussion of the comment of Rashi to Genesis 26:8. The verse states that Abimelech looked out his window and saw that Isaac “was amusing himself with Rebekah.” Upon this verse, Rashi, based on a Midrash, states that Abimelech saw them having marital relations. In the earlier post I expressed surprise that some commentators thought it was appropriate for them to discuss the Patriarch’s sexual life. One reader called my attention to R. Levi ben Hayyim, Livyat Hen: Eikhut ha-Nevuah ve-Sodot ha-Torah, ed. Kreisel (Beer Sheva, 2007), p. 672, which is another example of what occasioned my surprise.

R. Levi contrasts Isaac negatively to both Abraham and Jacob. He regards the latter two as on a higher spiritual level, and thus closer to God, than Isaac, and brings a number of biblical proofs to support this contention. In a really outrageous comment, much more objectionable than R. Levi’s allegorical passages that R. Solomon ben Adret was so upset with (and which don’t appear at all problematic when seen in context), R. Levi suggests that Isaac’s blindness was brought on by the fact that he was so attracted to Rebekah’s beauty[15] that it led to him having too much sex! (Although R. Levi reflects an old superstition, there is actually a medically documented phenomenon of temporary blindness following sex.)

גם תראה היותו נמשך לתענוגים, עד שאהב עשו בעבורם ואמר (בר’ כז, ג): “ועשה לי מטעמים כאשר אהבתי”. ואפשר שזה סבב לו להרבות המשגל עד שכהו עיניו מראות, כי נמשך אחרי יפי רבקה, שהעיד עליה הכתוב שהיתה יפת תואר מאד, הלא אבימלך ראהו מן החלון מצחק עם רבקה אשתו

Finally, let me make one more point about sexual matters in the Torah. Genesis 35:22 states that “Reuben lay with Bilhah.” The Artscroll multi-volume commentary on Bereshit (i.e., not the Stone Chumash), p. 1522, states that in Shabbat 55b “the Sages emphatically declare that Reuben did not commit the sin of adultery. They proclaim that מי שאמר ראובן חטא אינו אלא טועה.”

I believe this to be a conscious distortion of what appears in the Talmud, in the name of “frumkeit”, of course. If you open up the Talmud to Shabbat 55b you find that, first of all, it is not the “Sages” who proclaim מי שאמר ראובן וכו’ but one of the Sages, R. Samuel Bar Nahmani in the name of R. Jonathan. This is a very minor point, since following this statement in the Talmud we find other Sages who agree with this statement, i.e., they also assume that Reuben never actually had sexual relations with Bilhah (and they are quoted in the Artscroll commentary to Bereshit). However, from the Talmud we also learn that there were Sages who disagreed with R. Jonathan and took the biblical text literally. It is none other than the Artscroll Talmud that, quoting Maharsha, explains that according to R. Eliezer, Reuben did have sexual relations with Bilhah.

The Artscroll commentary on Bereshit is a very long work (2232 pages), providing numerous perspectives on every verse. Yet in this case they chose not to include the view of R. Eliezer and R. Joshua that Genesis 35:22 is to be taken literally, and Reuben indeed had sexual relations with Bilhah. A conscious choice had to be made to exclude this view, and I think we all understand why. But doesn’t Artscroll’s choice in this regard show a real lack of respect for R. Eliezer and R. Joshua? Maybe others see things differently, but it appears to me that Artscroll stood in judgment, as it were, over R. Eliezer and R. Joshua, and decided that their view was not worthy of being included since Artscroll did not like what they said. This is hardly the sort of kevod ha-Torah that Artscroll is supposed to represent.

Marc B. Shapiro

There has been a great deal of discussion in the wake of the recent release of the Pew Research Center’s “Portrait of Jewish Americans.” Some have focused on the report’s evidence of increasing intermarriage and lack of any Jewish connection of many in the younger generation. Others have zeroed in on some of the survey’s anomalies and results that are simply not correct. For example, the survey informs us that 1% of Ultra-Orthodox Jews had a Christmas tree last year. I would be willing to bet that in the entire world there isn’t even one Ultra-Orthodox Jew with a Christmas tree, and 1% means at least a few thousand Ultra Orthodox households have Christmas trees. After adding in the Modern Orthodox, we are told that 4% of Orthodox Jews have Christmas trees. Being that the survey places the Orthodox at 10% of the Jewish population, and also tells us that there are 5.3 million adult Jews (another one the survey’s surprises), this leads to the result that more than 21,000 adult Orthodox Jews have Christmas trees in their homes.Since these results are not just improbable, but impossible, it raises the general question of how reliable the survey is when it comes to the Orthodox. Can anyone believe the survey when it tells us that in the 18-29 age bracket the Modern Orthodox only account for 1% of the country’s Jews while the Ultra-Orthodox account for 9%, or that in the 30-49 age bracket, the Modern Orthodox are 3% and the Ultra Orthodox 10%. We are also are told that 24% of Ultra-Orthodox Jews handle money on Shabbat but only 19 percent of Modern Orthodox Jews do so. (Who was it that said the Ultra-Orthodox are frummer than the Modern Orthodox?!)

When you read results like these you can only wonder what went wrong, and I hope we get some explanation as to how such results were generated. (Professor Jonathan Sarna has written to me that all surveys have absurd results for various reasons, and “one is to look at broad trends and ignore absurdities.”) Perhaps there was confusion about the way the questions were asked. Such confusion is the only way I can explain that only 64% of the Ultra-Orthodox agree that a person can be Jewish if he works on the Sabbath. The truth is that every Ultra-Orthodox Jew knows that a person who works on the Sabbath is still Jewish (albeit a sinning Jew). I presume that those who answered “no” to the question understood it to be asking if one can be a “good Jew” and work on the Sabbath. (In case anyone has been wondering, I use the term “Ultra-Orthodox” since that is what the survey uses. I don’t know why no one told the survey directors that this term is no longer regarded as appropriate.)

The sort of anomalies I have mentioned appear to be confined to matters of religious life, and other areas seem more believable. For example, we are told that 37% of Modern Orthodox households have incomes in excess of $150,000, which places them in the top ten percent of Americans. This strikes me as on the mark and illustrates one of the great problems with Modern Orthodoxy in the United States. Anyone who has been to Israel knows that there are non-haredi Orthodox Jews in all areas of life. You see men with kippot who are bus drivers, security guards, and doing every other job imaginable. Yet in the United States, Modern Orthodoxy has become largely an upper middle class phenomenon. The cost of a Modern Orthodox lifestyle, which includes expensive schools and camps, is simply beyond most people’s reach. I believe that this cost is a major reason why the Modern Orthodox camp has not picked up much in the way of ba’alei teshuvah.[1]

I have no doubt that many of the non-Orthodox admire the Modern Orthodox lifestyle, and would be willing to try it out, before learning the cost. Many non-Orthodox would also be happy to send their kids to Modern Orthodox schools, but they are not going to sacrifice a middle class lifestyle for this. Those who grow up Modern Orthodox and remain in the community are prepared to make the financial sacrifices (as well as limiting how many children they have). But for those who are not part of the community, the entry fee is simply too high. Needless to say, there are also those among the Modern Orthodox who drift away because of the financial cost, and this drifting often begin when the first child is enrolled in public school. As I see it, the financial burden is the great Achilles’ heel of Modern Orthodoxy, and what prevents it from any real growth. By the same token, those of us in the Modern Orthodox world must recognize that one of the great strengths of the haredi community is that there is room in it for everyone, from the wealthy real estate developer to the blue-collar worker. If, as so many predict, the future of American Orthodoxy is with the haredim, money (or lack of it) will play an important role in this story.

The Pew Report reported very high levels of intermarriage in the Jewish community.[2] Yet even among those who would never dream of intermarrying, we know that some engage in sexual relations with non-Jews. There is an interesting responsum in this regard by the late R. Moshe Stern, the Debrecener Rav, Be’er Moshe, vol. 4 no. 141.

R. Stern testifies to receiving numerous questions regarding this matter by the very people engaged in such behavior. For those who don’t know anything about R. Stern and who asked him questions, I can tell you that these were definitely not Modern Orthodox people or members of the Lithuanian yeshiva world.[3]

This volume of Be’er Moshe was reprinted in 1984 without any changes. However, sometime after that the volume was reprinted again. There is no indication of when this took place, as the title page is the same as the 1984 edition. (Presumably, the reprint was after R. Stern’s passing in the summer of 1997.)

The censorship of this responsum can only have one purpose, namely, so that people don’t learn about how some members of R. Stern’s community were having sexual relations with non-Jewish women.

What is the remedy for these men who are intimate with non-Jewish women? Repentance, of course. Yet there is a very strange opinion as to how to go about this repentance. R. Solomon Ephraim Luntshitz, in his Keli Yekar[4] to Numbers 19:21, says something which is so “out of the box” that I am shocked that it has not yet been censored from the Mikraot Gedolot. (Yes, I realize that it is just a matter of time.)

R. Luntshitz is discussing the statement in Yoma 86b: “How is one proved a repentant sinner? Rav Judah said: If the object which caused his original transgression comes before him on two occasions, and he keeps away from it. Rav Judah indicated: With the same woman, at the same time, in the same place.” In context, this means only what it says, but not that someone should actually put himself in this situation. Yet this is exactly the lesson R. Luntshitz derives.

He refers to Berakhot 34b, “In the place where penitents stand even the wholly righteous cannot stand.” R. Luntschitz cites an opinion that the ba’al teshuvah (penitent) of a sexual sin has to put himself in the exact same situation as he was before, that is, to be alone with the very same woman and overcome his inclination. This is not permitted to one who is “wholly righteous” since he is forbidden to put himself in this situation. But the penitent needs to do this in order for his repentance to be complete, and this explains how a wholly righteous one cannot stand where the penitent stands, since the penitent has to put himself in a situation that would be forbidden for the righteous one. R. Luntshitz explains that the very act of repentance, i.e., being alone with the woman, “makes the pure [the tzaddik] impure and the impure [the sinner] pure.”

This is a strange passage for any number of reasons, not least of which that the action of being alone with the woman is itself sinful, even if it never leads to any sexual activity. Yet R. Luntshitz tells us that in this case we have an exception, and true repentance requires intentionally putting oneself in the exact same situation one was beforehand and this time overcoming one’s inclination. Of course, there is no guarantee that the person will emerge successfully from this self-imposed test. R. Israel Isserlein reports such an occurrence, where an individual put himself in this situation in order to achieve proper repentance, but ended up sinning again![5] Sefer Hasidim earlier warned against falling into precisely this trap.[6]

R. Luntschitz’s point is also found in his Olelot Ephraim, vol. 2, no. 228, showing that he was entirely convinced of his position.

R. Luntschitz was the rabbi of Prague, yet a later incumbent of this position, R. Ezekiel Landau, strongly rejects R. Luntschitz’s point. He acknowledges that many shared R. Luntschitz’s error, which I think is interesting since I can’t imagine anyone having such an opinion today.[7] R. Landau doesn’t tell us who else advocated R. Luntschitz’s view, but R. Mordechai Harris,[8] R. Dovid Yoel Weiss,[9] R. Yaakov Levi,[10] and Nahum Rakover[11] provide sources. Among these sources are R. Joseph ben Judah Loeb Jacob, Rav Yevi (Netanya, 2012), to Psalms 36:3, who quotes the Baal Shem Tov as offering the same approach as R. Luntschitz.

Jewish men getting together with non-Jewish women is, of course, not a new thing. The Talmud, Sanhedrin 82a, already refers to this possibility with regard to Torah scholars (!), concluding: “If he is a scholar, he shall have no awakening [i.e., teaching] among the sages and none responding among the disciples.”[12] Avodah Zarah 69b-70a deals with the status of kosher wine on the table when Jewish men are sitting together with a non-Jewish prostitute. Yom Tov Assis, in his article “Sexual Behaviour in Mediaeval Hispano-Jewish Society,”[13] discusses the situation in Spain where it was not uncommon for Jews to have non-Jewish mistresses.[14] Avraham Grossman also deals with this matter and his discussion includes other parts of medieval Europe as well.[15]

In R. Judah ben Asher’s responsa (Zikhron Yehudah, no. 91), we are told about the problem of Jews having sex with their non-Jewish slave girls (and also having impregnating them). A few centuries later, R. David Ibn Zimra testifies that there were men, learned in Torah, who even thought it was permissible for them to have sex with their slaves.[16]

The fact that the prohibition on occasional sexual relations (דרך זנות) with non-Jewish women is only rabbinic[17] no doubt contributed to many not taking it very seriously.[18] Maimonides, Hilkhot Issurei Biah 12:2, writes:

אבל הבא על הגויה דרך זנות מכין אותו מכת מרדות מדברי סופרים גזירה שמא יבוא להתחתן. ואם ייחדה לו בזנות חייב עליה משום נידה, ומשום שפחה, ומשום גויה, ומשום זונה. ואם לא ייחדה לו אלא נקרית מקרה אינו חייב אלא משום גויה. וכל חיובין אלו מדבריהן.

R. Moses Isserles [19] even mentions the view of the Tur that intermarriage itself (דרך אישות) is only a rabbinic prohibition.[20] The Bah explains the Tur’s view, Even ha-Ezer 16, as follows, leaving no doubt as to the matter:

אבל בשאר אומות . . . אין בהן איסור כלל מן התורה ואפילו בא עליהן דרך אישות אלא גזירה דרבנן.

This approach, incidentally, could explain how Esther married Ahasuerus, as the prohibition on intermarriage was not yet established.

Maimonides disagrees with the Tur and assumes that there is a biblical prohibition to marry any non-Jew (דרך חתנות), not simply the seven Canaanite nations. Therefore, he claims that Solomon converted all the women he married.[21] However, R. Raphael Berdugo disagrees, and states that there was no halakhic problem with Solomon marrying these women without converting them.[22] This leads him to discuss the story of Pinhas killing Zimri and the whole concept of kana’in pog’in bo. R. Berdugo explains that kana’in pog’in bo only applies when dealing with sexual relations that are public, promiscuous, and the woman is an idolator.[23]

ולא אמרו קנאין פוגעין בו אלא דרך הפקר ועובדת ע”ז ובפרהסיא.

According to R. Berdugo, following the Tur, Jews who are married to non-Jews are only violating a rabbinic prohibition. I mention this since I recently met someone who thought that in messianic days intermarried Jews will be subject to kana’in pog’in bo. I originally thought that this was a clear error. If you look at Maimonides’ formulation, Hilkhot Issurei Biah 12:4, you find that contrary to R. Berdugo he indeed includes all non-Jews, not just idolators, as subject to kana’in pog’in bo. (And see his very strong words against Jewish-Gentile sexual relations in Hilkhot Issure Biah 12:6-7.) Yet he is just as explicit that the sexual intercourse has to be public, just like with Zimri.

כל הבועל גויה בין דרך חתנות בין דרך זנות אם בעלה בפרהסיא, והוא שיבעול לעיני עשרה מישראל.

Based on this, it was clear to me that according that according to Maimonides (following Avodah Zarah 36b) an intermarried Jew is not subject to kana’in pog’in bo, as living together is not the same thing as שיבעול לעיני עשרה. Even if one were to reject this point, in the very next halakhah Maimonides states:

ואין הקנאי רשאי לפגוע בהם אלא בשעת מעשה כזמרי . . . אבל אם פירש אין הורגין אותו.

This means that the act of zealotry must take place during the actual sexual act, or at least this is what I thought. But when I investigated a bit I learnt that while my understanding is shared by many, there are also many who assume otherwise. For example, the always interesting R. Shemariah Menasheh Adler states that an intermarried man is indeed subject to kana’in pog’in bo.[24] He claims that Maimonides’ statement just quoted only refers to one who is engaged in an act of promiscuous sex in public. With such a man he can only be killed in the act, but Maimonides is not referring here to a man who is publicly living with a non-Jew. In such a case, R. Adler claims, there is no need for the zealotry to be בשעת מעשה. As for Maimonides’ explicit words כל הבועל גויה בין דרך חתנות , R. Adler claims that this only refers to the first act of marital sexual intercourse, and that it needs to be in public for kana’in pog’in bo to be applicable, but not once they have already established a home and are living together. R. Adler also quotes R. Solomon Kluger[25] as agreeing with his basic point, and I have found others as well.[26]

We have seen lots of strange stuff in recent years. Is it only a matter of time before someone disgusted with the high rate of intermarriage decides to act the part of kana’in pog’in bo?

It is also worth noting that most commentators and halakhists assume that kana’in pog’in bo only applies when there is a Jewish man and a non-Jewish woman, not the reverse. Despite this, we indeed have some examples in Jewish history of “honor killings”. For example, in 1311 a Jewish woman who married a Christian and became pregnant was killed by her brothers.[27]

In 1557 an Italian Jew killed his sister because her alleged sexual activity embarrassed the family. Elliot Horowitz, who mentions this case, adds: “Azariah Finzi, the girl’s father, saw fit to defend this action by his only son, asserting that it was ‘inappropriate for one calling himself a Jew, especially a member of one of the best families, to suffer a veil of shame upon his face, being mocked by all who see him for the blemish attached to his family’s reputation.’”[28]

In Teshuvot Hagahot Maimoniyot to Sefer Nashim, no. 25 (found in the standard printings of the Mishneh Torah), there is a responsum which describes how a woman cheated on her husband, apparently with a local non-Jew, and became pregnant. According to her father, she also killed her baby (“the mamzer”[29]) after it was born. Her father, worried that she would apostatize, asked, indeed pleaded with, the local rabbis to permit him to kill his daughter by drowning her in the river. The rabbis turned the request down.

בא אביה של שרה לפני שנים ממנו החתומים למטה ובא לימלך בנו להורות לו אם מותר להרוג בתו לטובעה בנהר ולאבדה מן העולם . . . [אמר אביה] אני מבקשכם בכל מיני תחינה שתתירו לי להורגה.

The case is actually quite sad since she was probably a teenager in over her head. The responsum describes how she would run away from home but her mother would convince her to come back. When her father rebuked her for her behavior, her reply was, “I am not the first woman who did something bad.”R. Asher Ben Jehiel, She’elot u-Teshuvot ha-Rosh 18:13, deals with a case of a woman who was intimate with a non-Jew and became pregnant from him. R. Asher affirms the local rabbi’s decision to cut off her nose. (See also R. Matityahu Strashun, Mivhar Ketavim [Jerusalem, 1969], p. 158 n. 3.)

Also relevant is a very strange story recorded in Ta’anit 24a. It begins by telling us that R. Yose ben Abin left his teacher, R. Yose of Yokeret. His reason was, “How could the man who showed no mercy to his son and daughter show mercy to me?” Let’s leave aside the story of R. Yose of Yokeret and his son. Here is what the Talmud records about him and his daughter.

He had a beautiful daughter. One day he saw a man boring a hole in the fence so that he might catch a glimpse of her. He said to the man, “What is [the meaning of] this?” The man answered: “Master, if I am not worthy enough to marry her, may I not at least be worthy to catch a glimpse of her?” Thereupon he exclaimed: “My daughter, you are a source of trouble to mankind, return to the dust so that men may not sin because of you.”

Although he did not physically kill his daughter, he did express the wish that she die (according to some it was an actual curse), and in the opinion of many commentators this is exactly what happened (see Hagahot ha-Bah, ad loc.). What makes this text so shocking is that the daughter was entirely innocent of any improper behavior. In other words, it was her very existence as a beautiful woman that created the problem, and as such it was better that she simply exit this world before any more men were led into sinful thoughts. I see no way that this story can be brought into line with mainstream rabbinic thought, despite many attempts to do so.[30] (At a future time I can present some lessons that contemporary moralists have derived from this story, which also are quite shocking.)

Returning to the matter of Jewish-Gentile sexual relations, while the Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 16:1, following Maimonides, Hilkhot Issurei Biah 12:2, tells us that occasional sexual relations (i.e., no marital relationship) with a non-Jewish woman is only rabbinically prohibited,[31] R. Nissim of Gerona disagrees. Yet if we are indeed dealing with a Torah prohibition then what does the Talmud[32] mean when it states that the Hasmonean Beit Din decreed against sex with a non-Jewish woman? If it was already forbidden according to the Torah, there would be no need for such a decree.

R. Nissim suggests that the Hasmonean Beit Din’s decree was designed to add an additional penalty onto an already existing prohibition. It is not that occasional sex with a non-Jewish woman was banned by the Hasmonean Beit Din, but they merely added the penalty of lashes. The reason for this, R. Nissim points out, is that sometimes people are not concerned about heavenly punishments like karet, but they are concerned with an earthly punishment.[33]

Yet this is a minority view, and the standard approach is that there is no biblical prohibition on occasional private sex with a non-Jewish woman. Here is how the Encylopedia Talmudit sums up the matter[34]:

הבא על הגויה דרך זנות, איסורו מדברי סופרים, גזרה שמא יבוא להתחתן.

(In case people are wondering, I don’t think that this is the sort of information that should be spread among the masses, precisely because that some people might decide that violating a rabbinic prohibition is not such a big deal.)

I keep stressing Jewish men and non-Jewish women, since the situation of Jewish women and non-Jewish men has its own issues that should be postponed to another post. But with regard to Jewish women who are intermarried, let me note that according to R. Ovadiah Yosef, such a woman should be told to go to the mikveh. He also adds that she should not tell the mikveh lady about her situation (I assume because she might then be refused entry).[35]

To be continued.

 

In an earlier post here I mentioned some of the shocking things said by R. Chaim Kanievsky about R. Shmuel Auerbach. Someone asked me if I could put together a list of the harshest things said by Torah scholars about their contemporaries. This would be an interesting project, and we can also find some very harsh things in this regard in talmudic and midrashic literature. I must stress, however, that often these shocking (to our ears) statements are not as harsh as they sound, since they were not meant to be taken literally. Some rabbis use figures of speech that everyone understands are simply part of a literary genre.

Here is one such example. R. Abba Mari of Lunel, in his attack against the Jewish rationalists, tells us that if he had the power he would do as follows to his opponent[36]:

אקרע סגור לבו להיות בדמו ממרס.

This means “I will cut open his heart so as to stir his blood.” I am sure people in medieval times would also be offended by such a statement. Yet its meaning then was far removed from what it would mean today, and if any of our contemporaries spoke like this we would assume he needed to be institutionalized.

After reading the post, some also wrote to me to express dissatisfaction with the rabbinic leadership in the haredi world. Contrary to what some think, this sort of feeling is not new, and in every generation people have been disappointed with the rabbinic greats. Here, for example, is what appears in the anonymous letter printed at the beginning of R. Mordechai Benet’s Parashat Mordechai.

ואף הגדולים וחכימי דרא לא משגיחים רק לעצמם בלחודוהי לזכות עצמם בלחוד אבל לא לזכות דרא לעורר תשובה בעלמא.

Finally, a couple of people corresponded with me regarding the stories of great rabbis who had totally sublimated their emotions. There are other stories that could be told of rabbis who were not even (at least outwardly) emotionally affected by the death of a child. This is sometimes held up as an example of piety and acceptance of God’s decree. Yet R. David Ibn Zimra (Radbaz) had an entirely different perspective.[37] Regarding one of the “gedolei ha-dor” who when his son died did not shed a tear, Radbaz was asked if this is a good characteristic or not. In his reply, Radbaz does not mince words about how wrong this is, seeing such “piety” as cruel, un-Jewish, and evidence of a psychological problem (to use a modern formulation):

זו מדה רעה מורה על קושי הלב ועל רוע תכונת הנפש והיא מדת אכזריות והוא דרך הפילוסופים האומרים כי זה העולם הכל הוא מעשה תעתועים

The Vilna Gaon, part 3 (Review of Eliyahu Stern, The Genius)

by Marc B. Shapiro

In honor of Sean Penn and Mark Wahlberg, who understand what pidyon shevuyim is all about.

Continued from here.Returning to R. Sternbuch’s Ta’am ve-Da’at, vol. 1, earlier in this book, p. 88, we find the following passage.

שמעתי ממרן הגריז”ס זצ”ל (הגאב”ד דבריסק) שאברהם אבינו לא היה עצבני וחושש ומפחד שהולך לשחוט בנו יחידו, אלא היה לו הלילה שלפני העקדה ככל הלילות, ולא נתרגש מצווי זה וקם בבוקר לקיים המצוה כשם שמקיימים כל מצוה, והשכים כזריזין שמקדימים למצוות, ושש ושמח לקיים מצות בוראו

The Gaon is quoted as having a different perspective on the Akedah.[2] According to him, since Abraham was engaged in acts of loving kindness all the time, this commandment was designed to develop in him the attribute of cruelty, which is also required at times.

וז”ש כאן בעקידה עתה ידעתי כי ירא אלקים אתה, לפי שקודם לכן לא היה אלא רחמן מאד שהיה מכניס אורחים וגומל חסדים. אבל המדה של אכזריות ולכוף א”ע ולקיים מצות הבורא ית’ עדיין לא היה ניכר בו והיו יכולים לומר שאברהם איננו צדיק גמור ח”ו. אבל בעקידה שעשה ג”כ מדת אכזריות שרצה בכל אות נפשו לקיים מצות הבורא ולשחוט את בנו יחידו אשר בו תלוי כל חיותו א”כ עתה נשלם וניכר שהוא צדיק גמור

The Gaon connects this to the commandment to send away the mother bird before taking the eggs. In the Guide 3:48, Maimonides understands this as designed to avoid cruelty to the mother bird. However, the Gaon has the exact opposite interpretation. He assumes that sending away the mother is very cruel, and that is the entire point of the commandment. He points out that in only two commandments does the Torah promise long life. One is respect for parents, which is about compassion. The other is sending away the mother bird, which is about cruelty, The complete personality, i.e., the tzaddik, needs to have both of these characteristics.

לפי שאין השלימות ניכר באדם אלא כשיש לו מדות הפוכות, כגון מדת רחמנות ואכזרות

As the Gaon explains, if someone had only one of these characteristics, you could say that this was just his nature. However, when you see in the same person the opposite characteristics of compassion and currently, applied at different times, this shows that the person is a tzaddik. This also explains why God gave commandments that are characterized by compassion as well as commandments that cause one to act with cruelty.(R. Moses Cordovero writes that “kindness is not valued in an individual who is naturally kind, only in a person who overcomes his inclination to act contrary [to the dictates of kindness].” See Or Yakar, Hayyei Sarah, p. 110, translation in Paul B. Fenton, “The Banished Brother: Islam in Jewish Thought and Faith,” in Alon-Goshen-Gottstein and Eugene Korn, eds. Jewish Theology and World Religions [Oxford, 2012], p. 251.)

Directly before this explanation in Divrei Eliyahu, the Gaon discusses God’s commandment to Abraham to circumcise himself and every newborn boy. According to the Gaon, Abraham was in doubt whether he should fulfill the commandment, since the requirement of such a practice would discourage the pagans from conversion. He thought that perhaps it would be better for him to disobey God’s command, and give up his heavenly reward, in order to increase believers in the world.

נתיירא אאע”ה שמא עי”ז לא ימשכו אחריו הבאים להתגייר ונוח היה לו להפסיד לעצמו משכרו הטוב ורק לקבץ מאמינים בעולם

Not knowing what to do, Abraham consulted with Aner, Eshkol, and Mamre, and the first two advised not doing the circumcision, but Mamre advised him to listen to God and that is what he did.

This is a development of an older theme that appears in a number of midrashim and is alluded to in Rashi, Genesis 18:1. According to these sources, Abraham was indeed unsure whether to listen to God, but none of the midrashim offer a reason for Abraham’s hesitation. [3] The midrashic notion that Abraham hesitated over following God’s command is quite startling, and many commentators deal with it in all sorts of creative ways.[4] The Gaon softens the difficulty somewhat by explaining that Abraham was not in doubt regarding whether to follow God’s command because he was afraid of the procedure, but his motivation was much more exalted. Yet the Gaon’s explanation is somewhat difficult because the midrashim have Mamre convincing Abraham to do the procedure by reminding him how God saved him from the fiery furnace or how in general God has always watched over him, and there is thus no justification for ignoring His command. This implies that Abraham’s reason for hesitation was fear over the operation rather than concern that his proselytizing efforts would suffer.

I would love to know what R. Velvel would say about these midrashim, which show Abraham in a very different light than the way he describes the Patriarch.

Finally, let me mention a story famous in Habad and recorded by the Lubavitcher Rebbe in various places. It shows an attitude entirely at odds with the sort of piety we saw in the last post. Here is a selection from the Rebbe’s letter in Iggerot Kodesh, vol. 22, no. 8558 (p. 366). The translation is taken from here.

The Alter Rebbe shared his house with his oldest married son, Rabbi Dov Ber (who later succeeded him as the Mitteler Rebbe). Rabbi Dov Ber was known for his unusual power of concentration. Once, when Rabbi Dov Ber was engrossed in learning, his baby, sleeping in its cradle nearby, fell out and began to cry. The infant’s father did not hear the baby’s cries. But the infant’s grandfather, the Alter Rebbe, also engrossed in his studies in his room on the upper floor at the time, most certainly did. He interrupted his studies, went downstairs, picked the baby up, soothed it and replaced it in its cradle. Through all this Rabbi Dov Ber remained quite oblivious.

Subsequently, the Alter Rebbe admonished his son: “No matter how engrossed one may be in the loftiest occupation, one must never remain insensitive to the cry of a child.”[5]

In the last post I showed examples of removing material from the English translation of a Hebrew book, so as not to scandalize the English reader. Here is another example. The Hebrew text comes from Shimon Yosef Meller’s biography of R. Velvel Soloveitchik, Ha-Rav mi-Brisk (Jerusalem, 2006), vol. 2, pp. 546-547. I previously mentioned this passage here.

Here is the relevant page in the translation, The Brisker Rav (Jerusalem, 2009), vol. 2, p. 573, and you can see that the story I am referring to has been removed.

 

For another story about vomiting, see the following passage which comes from the introduction of the Gaon’s sons to his commentary on the Shulhan Arukh.

 

Here is a similar story recorded about R. Yisrael Salanter.[6]

Whether these stories actually happened is not important. What is important is that they were regarded as examples of piety in those days, while today if someone would act this way people would feel revulsion. In fact, since people had such a different response years ago, there is no need to assume that the stories did not happen simply because today the stories seem impossible. When it comes to what people regard as appropriate, one sees enormous changes between generations and cultures. An obvious example is the matter of homosexuality. While a century ago this was pretty much universally regarded as repulsive, among today’s younger generation of college educated people you would be hard pressed to find anyone to say this (as I can attest from interactions with hundreds of college-age students). Even among the halakhically observant, i.e., those who accept the prohibition on homosexuality, many do not regard it as inherently repulsive.

When it comes to The Brisker Rav, I have to confess that I was also certain that another passage would be removed, and it was not. I have in mind vol. 3, p. 428 n. 19 (the last paragraph).[7]

P. 140: Stern cites a comment that appears on every other page in R. Israel Salanter’s journal Tevunah:

All laws concerning monetary transactions have absolutely no practical authority. For we follow the law of the land. And this is the meaning of the great principle of “the law of the land is final.” We study, analyze, and debate monetary topics in the same way in which we study the laws of donations to the temple, tithes, sacrifices and purities, which are not practiced today. They are discussed only in terms of fulfilling our duty to study the Torah.

Upon this, Stern remarks, “While one cannot discount the pressures of governmental censorship that may have contributed to this position, still it marks an important development in rabbinic history. As Elchanan Reiner correctly notes, ‘Diverting attention from the actual ruling to the text itself, namely to the very practice of interpretation, constitutes a dramatic shift in the history of knowledge.’”

I don’t accept this at all. There is no question that the words quoted from Tevunah were directed towards non-Jewish governmental authorities, if not in Germany (where the journal was published), certainly in Russia, where the journal would find its major readership. How is this an important development, and how does it relate to Reiner’s point (made in an entirely different context) when every Jew who read these words understood that that they were not to be taken seriously, any more than the passages on the second page of many rabbinic books stating that all references to non-Jews only refer to pagans in places like China and India?

Let me make just a few more comments about the Gaon. Some people refer to him as Rabbi Elijah Kramer. When I first saw this name a number of years ago, I didn’t know who was being referred to since I had never heard of any Elijah Kramer. The first reference in print to Elijah Kramer (or Kremer) that I have been able to discover is Maurice Samuel’s 1963 book, Little Did I Know, p. 257. (If anyone is aware of an earlier reference, please let me know) The name was later made popular after appearing in the title of Yaacov Dovid Shulman’s 1994 book, The Vilna Gaon: The Story of Rabbi Eliyahu Kramer.[8]

If this post does nothing else, I hope it puts an end to this mistaken practice. The Vilna Gaon was not named Kramer! He was descended from someone named R. Moses Kramer (his great-great grandfather), but the Gaon never used this name and no one ever used it about him, so it is a mistake to call him this.[9] See also note 1 in S.’s post here.

The mistake of referring to the Gaon as Kramer appears in a 2012 book by Rabbis Berel Wein and Warren Goldstein, The Legacy: Teachings for Life from the Great Lithuanian Rabbis, p. 130. The particular chapter I refer to was written by Wein, and on the same page that he mentions Kramer he refers to the Gaon’s foremost student as “Rabbi Chaim Rabinowitz”. As far as I know, this is the first time R. Chaim of Volozhin has been given the last name Rabinowitz, and I have no idea what led Wein to write this. Perhaps there was some confusion between R. Chaim of Volozhin and R. Chaim Rabinowitz of Telz.

This book (which I do recommend) has an approbation by R. Shmuel Kamenetsky in which he writes that “everything in it is true.” I am inclined to think that R. Kamenetsky was only referring to the larger issues discussed in the book rather than attesting to the accuracy of every fact. There is an old saying

כשם שאין בר בלא תבן כך אין ספר ללא טעויות

We can update this saying by adding the word “blog post” after the word “sefer”.

Bezalel Naor has published the following letter he wrote to Elliot Wolfson.

Have you read the new book by Eliyahu Stern, The Genius: Elijah of Vilna and the Making of Modern Judaism (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2013)? In a lengthy endnote on pp. 196-198 (note 19), Stern polemicizes against your reading of the Vilna Gaon’s interpretation of “sefer ve-sefer ve-sippur” (Sefer Yetsirah 1:1). Stern refers to your essay “From Sealed Book to Open Text: Time, Memory, and Narrativity in Kabbalistic Hermeneutics,” Interpreting Judaism in a Postmodern Age, ed. Steven Kepnes (New York: New York University Press, 1996), pp. 145-178, especially footnote 14.

Not wishing to rely on memory alone, I consulted the beginning of the Bi’ur ha-GRA le-Sifra di-Tseni’uta:

Sifra–A book (sefer) is the revelation of the thought, for the thought is closed within man and is revealed only by his speech or by his writing. And so En Sof was revealed, and created the world for [the purpose of] revelation and to make Himself known, as it says in the Zohar, and so the tikkunim that are explained in the continuation [of Sifra di-Tseni’uta] also [come about] through these two things, as it says in Sefer Yetsirah (The Book of Creation), “and [He] created His world with book, book and narrative (sefer ve-sefer ve-sippur). The matter of the two books and [single] narrative is due to the fact that in speech, at one stroke his thought is revealed, whereas in a book it takes two times: once when he writes and his thought is revealed in the world, but the book is yet closed; and a second time when the book is read and then revealed. But in speech, both are included at one time.” (Elijah of Vilna, Bi’ur ha-GRA le-Sifra di-Tseni’uta, ed. Bezalel Naor [Jerusalem, 1997], 1a)Elliot, your understanding of the passage is sound. On the other hand, Stern’s translation of the first term ”sefer” (which he is forced to revocalize “sefar”) as “mathematics,” would appear to be without foundation. As for the revocalization from sefer to sefar, Stern has drawn on Yosef Avivi, whom he cites. (See Yosef Avivi, Kabbalat ha-GRA [Jerusalem: Kerem Eliyahu, 1993], pp. 32-35.) Yet even Avivi did not have the audacity to inject into the Gaon’s commentary the concept of “mathematics.” This mathematicization of Elijah’s worldview awaited Leibniz.

R. Joseph Kafih also vocalizes the word as “sefar” in his edition of the Kuzari.Naor is mistaken when he states that understanding sefar as referring to “mathematics” is without foundation. While it is true that contrary to the implication of Stern, p. 196 n. 19, Avivi does not say anything about mathematics, there are others who do. Returning again to R. Judah Halevi, Kuzari 4:25, here is Hirschfeld’s translation:

As to sefar, it means the calculation and weight of the created bodies. The calculation which is required for the harmonious and advantageous arrangement of a body is based on a numerical figure. Expansion, measure, weight, relation of movements, and musical harmony, all these are based on the number expressed by the word sefar.

See also the page from R. David Cohen above, where he quotes R. Judah Barceloni who states: וספר – זה חשבון והוא המספרHere is another text woth noting. It is from R. Joseph Kimhi’s Sefer ha-Galui (Berlin, 1887) p. 3.

Kimhi tells us that he is going to let us into the secret of this text, which hasn’t yet been explained, and he writes: ספר חשבון ומניין. He then explains that this is one of the wisdoms that only humans are privy to. See also the anonymous commentary on Sefer Yetzirah, published by Israel Weinstock (Jerusalem, 1984), which explains ספר ספר וספור as follows:

לעיין תמיד בספרים, ולספור דרכי המספרים, ולחשוב בם תמיד

There are other sources that can be cited, but I think this suffices to show that Stern’s reading has to be taken seriously.

Let me conclude by mentioning something already well known, that the Gaon’s writings are full of original views. Stern deals with some of them, and there are many others. In The Limits of Orthodox Theology, p. 14 n. 55, I already note that the Gaon apparently believed that of the Thirteen Principles, only the first and second were real dogmas (in the Maimonidean sense).

Needless to say, each of the views I will now mention could have a detailed post of its own. There are obviously many other unique views of the Gaon, but for now I think these few will be of interest to readers as they are not that well known.

1. The Gaon did not wear R. Tam tefillin. We are told that he didn’t want to be without tefillin for even a small amount of time. Since the halakhah is in accordance with Rashi, the time spent wearing R. Tam tefillin would be regarded as bitul mitzvat tefillin.[10] R. Elijah Rabinowitz-Teomim writes[11]:

מתחרט אני כל פעם בלבי, על שהנהגתי בתפלין של רבנו תם, בראותי דעת רבינו הגר”א זצ”ל בזה, ככתוב בס’ שערי רחמים משמו, אך אי אפשר לי שלא להניח עוד

2. According to the Gaon, non-Jews in the Land of Israel have to observe all the mitzvot. I know this will be hard for people to believe, so here is the text to see with your own eyes. It comes from the first edition of Aderet Eliyahu (Halberstadt, 1859-1860), Deut. 32:9.This is a very unusual position, and I don’t know of any precedent for it.[12] It is so unusual, in fact, that the next printing, Warsaw 1887, simply cut this section out. Here is how the page looks in the Warsaw edition.

Raphael Shuchat notes that in a manuscript version of the Aderet Eliyahu text there is an important addition, which I have underlined:[13]

ואפילו הגוים הדרים בא”י צריכים לקיים כל המצוות, לפי שכל המצוות תלויים בארץ ישראל

But even with this addition the text is still very difficult, and no one has been able to find a source for the notion that Gentiles have to observe all the mitzvot in the Land of Israel, meaning that the idea is probably original to the Gaon. Shuchat offers two suggestions neither of which really fit with the Gaon’s words. One is that the Gaon means to say that since today there is no longer a law of ger toshav, any non-Jew who wishes to live in the Land of Israel has to convert. According to Shuchat, that is what he means when he says that non-Jews in the Land of Israel have to observe all the mitzvot. His other suggestion is that while there is no halakhic obligation for non-Jews to observe the mitzvot, by not doing so they are not respecting the sanctity of the Land.

שנכרי אינו חייב מצד ההלכה במצוות בארץ, אך מצד קדושת א”י הוא פוגם אם לא יקיים את המצוות בארץ

R. Eliezer Waldenberg also takes note of the passage in Aderet Eliyahu, and seeing no way to explain it assumes that the text is a mistake – מפי שמועה לא נכונה.[14]

Yet R. Waldenberg was unaware that in Aderet Eliyahu, Deut. 1:5, the Gaon says the exact same thing, namely, that in the Land of Israel non-Jews are obligated in all the mitzvot.[15]

ולכן נענשו אפי’ נכרים מפני שלא שמרו את התורה בארץ כמ”ש (מ”ב י”ז) לא ידעו את משפט א-להי הארץ, שישראל מצווה על כל התורה בח”ל ובארץ מצווה אפי’ נכרי

This text appears in full even in the second edition of Aderet Eliyahu, which is the edition that censored the comment to Deut. 32:9. R. Elijah Dessler used the censored Aderet Eliyahu so he didn’t know the Gaon’s comment to Deut. 32:9, but he noted the comment to Deut. 1:5 and expressed his great surprise.[16]

וזה דבר פלא לאמר דע”פ דין תורה כל נכרי הדר בא”י יהי’ מחוייב בכל המצוות כל זמן שבחפצו לדור בה, ותו מה יהי’ בדבר שמירת שבת, שהרי הגוי אסור בשמירתה, ומה יהי’ באכילת קרבן פסח, וכדומה.

While I don’t know of any talmudic or midrashic sources to support the Gaon’s position that a non-Jew in the Land of Israel has to observe all mitzvot,. there are some earlier texts that place additional obligations on non-Jews than what we normally assume.

Midrash Tanhuma (ed. Buber), Metzora 13, states that non-Jews are punished with karet if they violate the laws of Niddah.[17]

Ibn Ezra, Ex. 13:7, 20:8, Lev. 17:13-14, 20:25, states that a non-Jew living in the Land of Israel (i.e., a ger toshav) is obligated to observe Shabbat. He is also not to work on Yom Kippur, to refrain from eating hametz on Passover, and to only eat kosher food. This is Ibn Ezra’s understanding of the peshat of the Torah, but the Talmud records no such laws.The most significant of the sources I can cite, and the one closest to the Gaon’s position, is found in Avodah Zarah 64b. Here the Talmud quotes אחרים as saying that a ger toshav has to observe all the mitzvot with the exception of ritually slaughtered meat. The Hazon Ish, Yoreh Deah 65:6 wonders about this position, since does it mean that a non-Jew must wear tefillin and eat in a sukkah? He assumes that the talmudic passage means that non-Jews in the Land of Israel are only obligated in the negative commandments, and this is required so that Jews not be negatively influenced by their non-Jewish neighbors. See also R. Asher Weiss, Minhat Asher, Bereishit, p. 19.

Subsequent to the Gaon, the Hatam Sofer claims, based on a comment of Tosafot,[18] that when the Torah forbids something for Jews, it is praiseworthy for non-Jews to also abstain from this. See Hatam Sofer al ha-Torah, ed. Stern, vol. 1, p. 216:

דמה שהוא מדינא אסור לנו, נכנס עכ”פ בגדר החסידות גבי ב”נ

 

1. If, after all I have written, people are still not motivated to read Stern’s book, or they simply don’t have the time, you can watch him discuss the topic here.

Quite apart from Stern’s work on the Gaon, Shlomo Pick wrote the following in his just published article, “Al Prof. Shaul Lieberman ve-ha-Makhon ha-Gavoah[19] le-Torah she-Al Yad Universitat Bar-Ilan – Perek me-Hashkafato,” Badad 28 (Kislev, 5744), p. 10 n. 10.

 

2. On a recent trip to Toronto I had the pleasure meeting the indefatigable Yehuda Azoulay. Anyone who is interested in the history of great Sephardic rabbis should check out his books here.

3. In the previous post I wrote about the title of the newspaper Yated Ne’eman, and how yated is actually a feminine noun. All that I wrote in that section was tongue in cheek, as I think readers realized, but by mistake I didn’t include a footnote that was supposed to go in. In that note I pointed out that despite what the grammarians might say about the word yated, there are plenty of sources, from long before the newspaper came into existence, that use yated as a masculine noun. The following passage, which has both masculine and feminine,[20] appears in Teshuvot ha-Rashba, ed. Dimitrovsky, vol. 2, p. 529:

ובמלאת הימים האלה יהיה היתד הנאמן תקועה בלבם יתד לא תמוט

4. In the last post I referred to R. Mordechai Agasi’s Asurei ha-Melekh, a recent book dealing with the halakhot of being in prison. One of the commenters noted that this is an example of “life imitating art”, and he referred to a parody of Artscroll available here here where you can see the imaginary new English sefer The Laws of Incarceration. (I recommend also clicking on the links at the bottom of phony Artscroll website.)

Yet what we see from Asurei ha-Melekh is that this is anything but a joke. The parody has as one of the questions answered by the fake Artscroll book, “What are the requirements for conducting Bedikas Chometz in one’s cell?” In Asurei ha-Melekh, vol. 1, pp. 161-162, Agasi, discusses this very case. (All references to Asurei Melekh will be to vol. 1 unless otherwise mentioned).

Believe me when I tell you that pretty much all the possible halakhic problems a prisoner can think of are dealt with in the book. He even deals with some very far-fetched cases. For example, on p. 17 he discusses how one is to put on tallit and tefillin if his hands are in chains. His answer is that a non-Jew can put them on the prisoner, and the prisoner can still make the blessing.

I know that many people have made a joke of Asurei ha-Melekh. But this is a very serious book that serves a real purpose. It also comes with a letter of approbation from R. Shalom Lipskar. He heads the Aleph Institute, one of whose purposes is to reach out to Jews in prison. With the great increase in haredi prisoners, it is important for them to be given halakhic guidance, and the way to do this is with a sefer. (The Modern Orthodox will need an English language book.) Just because someone makes a mistake and has to go to prison doesn’t mean that he should make matters worse and give up Torah observance. There are also new halakhic problems that have to be dealt with. For example, Agasi, p. 123, discusses the case of one who is under house arrest but is permitted to go to synagogue. To enforce the house arrest, the man has to wear an electronic monitor. Is one permitted to go to synagogue on the Sabbath with the electronic monitor since as soon as he leaves his house it starts to record his movements and causes various LED lights to go on? Agasi’s answer is that the man must not leave his house on the Sabbath.

The federal government has made matters easier for observant prisoners by turning Otisville Federal Penitentiary into the place where many non-violent haredim (and other Orthodox Jews) are sent if they are convicted of a federal crime. It has a full-time Jewish chaplain and kosher kitchen.[21] The prison commissary list of food[22] helpfully notes those that are kosher (regular hashgachah) and also those that are “super-kosher” under the hashgachah of the CRC (Central Rabbinical Congress, i.e., Satmar).

Returning to Agasi’s book, while it has certain value, as I indicated, it also has great problems. Let me begin, however, by noting something positive. On p. 42 he states in no uncertain terms that one must follow the Law of the Land, and this includes taxes, traffic, and building laws. He states that violation of the Law of the Land is a Torah prohibition.

Yet I must also state that the book is biased against the American justice system, which he thinks is putting away too many haredim. He tells us that Jewish law, unlike secular law, does not sentence people to prison as a punishment (p. 11). Historically this has been true, but that is because the Jewish communities didn’t have real prisons. At most they had small jails to keep people for limited periods of time. (See R. Ephraim ha-Cohen, Sha’ar Ephraim, no. 83, who discusses if the communal jail needs a mezuzah.) If they were dealing with a real criminal who had to be stopped, they turned him over to the non-Jewish authorities or they dealt with him through physical punishments. Jewish courts in Spain would deal very harshly with those they wanted to punish. They even cut off tongues and  noses as forms of punishment. Considering the alternative, one would think that Agasi would be happy that we have progressed to prisons, which seem much more humane than how medieval Jews dealt with troublemakers. Yet from Agasi’s standpoint, long prison sentences are what he regards as cruel and unusual punishment.

מאסר למשך זמן רב הינו עונש עינוי אכזרי מתמשך ביותר

He also states that prison is not a deterrent. But his real problem with prison is that the Jewish prisoner, once he is incarcerated, can’t fulfill his appropriate spiritual tasks (p. 12).

המאסר שולל ממנו את החירות הדרושה לו כדי למלא את תפקידו הרוחני בעולם הזה, וכיון שכך, הינו מעכב את טובתו

Agasi contrasts the moral bankruptcy of prison with the Jewish approach, which doesn’t sentence a thief to jail but forces him to become a slave. And when someone kills accidentally, he is not sent to jail but instead has to live in a City of Refuge.[23] Agasi tells those unfortunate enough to be sentenced to prison that they should reflect on the fact that this is not the Torah way (p. 23):

אם חלילה נגזר עלינו לשהות בו תקופה ממושכת, בגין כל סיבה שרק תהיה, יש לנו להתבונן בהבדל המשמעותי שבין תורת ישראל לבין חוקי כל עם ולשון, בבחינת “ראו מה בין בני לבן חמי.”

In order that the prisoner not feel alone in his predicament, Agasi includes a long list of stories so the prisoner can read about how others had also been improperly incarcerated. Among the figures to read about include Joseph, Samson, R. Meir of Rothenburg, R. Yom Tov Lippman Heller, R. Shneur Zalman of Lyady, R. Yehezkel Abramsky, and many others.

At the beginning of vol. 2, pp. 1-2, he notes that many of those sitting in prison are wondering what they are doing there when lots of non-Jews who did worse are free. Agasi’s response is to blame anti-Semitism. The non-Jews have it in for the haredim and that is why they are putting them in jail.

מאז ומקדם היו אומות העולם שונאים לבני יעקב. . . . נהנים ומתענגים לראות את בני ישראל שבורים ברוחם ורצוצים בגופם

His reply to the anti-Semites is that while they can imprison the Jew’s body, they can’t destroy his soul  (p. 4):

עם ישראל לכל אורך הדורות תמיד ידע דבר אחד: אפשר לכלוא את גופם בתא מאסר, אפשר להצר את רגליהם מלכת, אפשר לאסור באזיקים את ידיהם, אפשר להשליכם אל צינוק חסר אוויר, אך, אי אפשר לכלוא את רוחם ונשמתם של בני מלכים הדבוקה בחי העולמים, אי אפשר להגיע אל נקודתם הפנימית המקושרת תמיד בבורא כל עולמים.

On p. 43 he states that according to Jewish law you can’t punish someone without two witnesses, even if you have clear proofs: הוכחות אפילו ברורות ביותר

Since the U.S. government is not obligated to operate according to Jewish law, I don’t know why this is relevant (unless he assumes that lacking witnesses the government only has the right to charge non-Jews). I have said it before, and let me now say it again. The Torah obligation for two witnesses was never how Jewish society operated. As has been pointed out by many, it is impossible to run a society that would require two male witnesses – not to mention the requirement of warning a perpetrator – in order to punish criminals, as such a system would not be able to convict anyone and thus would not have any power of deterrence. (Why the Torah has rules and procedures for criminals that can’t be implemented in the pre-Messianic world is a topic for a future post.) Jewish courts always did what they thought was necessary in order to secure order, and halakhah gives them this authority. To say otherwise is itself a hillul ha-shem because it means that when it comes to dealing with crime Jewish law is unworkable, while the truth is that Jewish law can deal with every possible situation.

Here is what the Rashba says on this issue  (Teshuvot vol. 3, no. 393), and his words have been quoted again and again. Note expecially his strong language that insisting on Torah requirements will “destroy the world”.

ורואה אני שאם העדים נאמנים אצל הברורים רשאים הן לקנוס קנס ממון או עונש גוף, הכל כפי מה שיראה להם, וזה מקיום העולם, שאם אתם מעמידין הכל על הדינין הקצובים בתורה ושלא לענוש אלא כמו שענשה התורה בחבלות וכיוצא בזה נמצא העולם חרב, שהיינו צריכים עדים והתראה, וכמו שאמרו ז”ל לא חרבה ירושלים אלא שהעמידו דיניהם על דין תורה, וכ”ש בחוצה לארץ שאין דנין בה דיני קנסות ונמצאו קלי דעת פורצין גדרו של עולם ונמצא העולם שמם

See also R. Hayyim Ozer Grodzinski, Iggerot R. Hayyim Ozer, vol. 2 nos. 833, 837.On p. 58, Agasi writes:

הנוגע בנכרי ובכל חפץ של עבודה זרה או הנוגע בישראל מומר יש להחמיר ליטול ידיו

Something tells me that this is not exactly the type of “humra” to be adopted when one goes to prison. Heaven help the Jewish prisoner if the non-Jew or non-observant Jew figures out what’s going on. To put it another way, I wouldn’t want to be in the prison yard when the good ol’ boys hear that Yankel has a problem shaking their hands.

I also wonder how smart it is for Agasi to tell the haredi prisoner the following:

אוכל נבילות להכעיס הרי הוא אפיקורס, והאפיקורס או ישראל המחלל שבת בפרהסיא אסור להחזיר להם אבידה, כעובד כוכבים.

Agasi does add that there are times when the lost object should be returned, but still, why even create the possibility that someone might want to be mahmir? Again, I wouldn’t want to be there when the non-Jew or non-observant Jew figures out who has taken their lost property.

I also don’t know how practical the following halakhah is, since prisoners don’t get to choose who their cellmate is (p. 58).

לא יתייחד ישראל עם נכרי, מפני שחשודים על שפיכות דמים

Finally, on p. 184 he gives us the following halakhah:

 אסיר שברח מבית הסוהר, מברך ברכת הגומל, שאף אם ייתפס וייאסר פעם נוספת אין זה המשך המאסר הקודם אלא מאסר חדש, ואין לומר דכיון שיש חשש שמא ייתפס עדיין לא מקרי שישתחרר לגמרי.

When I told a friend this halakhah, he assumed that I was pulling his leg, just like the story of the man who had to be unburied since his tachrichin were made of sha’atnez, which was around the same time as the sha’atnez in the baseball gloves.