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.

In the spirit of inyana de-yoma, Torah in Motion is offering, free of charge, Dr. Marc B. Shapiro’s lecture on “Torah Study on Christmas Eve,” delivered on Christmas Eve, 2009. You can get it here.[1]

Eliyahu Stern, The Genius: Elijah of Vilna and the Making of Modern Judaism (New Haven, 2013)

Eliyahu Stern has set for himself a daunting task and argues his case with conviction. He intends to correct a widespread assumption shared not only by the general public, but by the scholarly community as well. According to this narrative, the Vilna Gaon (hereafter the Gaon) should not be seen as a traditionalist defender of the past, but actually a modern Jew and one who helped usher in the modern era in Jewish history. In Stern’s words, “I [have] come to believe that [Jacob] Katz’s and [Michael K.] Silber’s notion of tradition and traditionalism fails to explain the experience of the overwhelming majority of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century eastern European Jews who did not spend their days either combating the Western European secular pursuit of science, philosophy and mathematics or holding onto the same political and social structures of their sixteenth- and seventeenth-century ancestors. Katz and Silber might have been right about [R. Moses] Sofer. . . . But figures such as the Gaon of Vilna or Hayyim of Volozhin (the Gaon’s student and Sofer’s contemporary), who did not express hostility toward modernity, elude their grasp” (p. 7).

This is quite a claim, and it would be a major revision of the historical picture if Stern could prove the point. Stern also argues that the Gaon’s notes to the sixteenth-century legal code Shulhan Arukh were influential in Jews moving away from a “code-based learning culture supported by the kehilah” (p. 11).[1]

After mentioning that the Gaon is embodied in the Jewish residents of Tel Aviv and New York, who live as though they are majorities, Stern concludes his book with this striking assertion: “From the birth of the State of Israel, to the Jews’ involvement in radical anti-statist modern political movements, to the creation of a robust vibrant Jewish life in the United States, Jewish modernity derives much of its intellectual dynamism, social confidence, and political assertiveness from an astonishing source: the brilliant writings and untamed personality of Elijah ben Solomon” (p. 171).

As with all revisionist theses there is bound to be reluctance to accept a new paradigm. The successful revisionist thesis is the one able to withstand the initial skepticism. Does Stern’s thesis fall into this category? Despite his enthusiastic and tempting arguments, I am not convinced. Reading the book, I could not help wonder if, for example, drawing contrasts with the thought of Leibniz offers any real insight into the thought of the Gaon. We know that the Gaon was fearless in emending rabbinic texts, but for Stern, “Elijah’s emendation project addresses the charge that Leibnizian idealism leaves no room for the possibility of progress, redemption, and critique. . . .  Elijah embroidered the theological concept of evil around the idea of textual error” (p. 61). Isn’t this reading too much into what the Gaon had in mind? Why does the approach of the Gaon have to be given such theological weight that Stern can conclude that “emendation is the path toward redemption and a restored original harmony” (p. 62)?[3]

In another example of his revisionist approach, Stern argues that the Gaon did not oppose philosophy. Rather, “Elijah’s problem with Maimonides revolves around issues of linguistics, interpretation, and hermeneutics and not whether it is permissible to read secular philosophy” (p. 130). As noted already, Stern also assumes that the Gaon did not really believe in “demons, magic, charms and other irrational objects” (p. 129). There is no question in my mind that Stern is in error here. Because the Gaon was a traditional Jew, whose approach to the classical rabbinic texts was not influenced by rationalist philosophy, this is precisely why he believed in demons, magic, and charms. The only reason to reject these things, as did Maimonides, is because one is influenced by rationalist thought.

I see no evidence that the Gaon was influenced in any substantial way by such knowledge, and his occasional use of Aristotelian terminology does not by itself indicate real influence. Furthermore, everything in his writings leads one to believe that when it came to the occult his mental universe was no different than the great rabbis of his time and subsequent to him, for whom demons did indeed exist. In his famous attack on Maimonides, found in his comment to Shulhan Arukh, Yoreh Deah 179:13, he specifically mentioned the efficacy of magic, and contrary to Stern this is to be taken literally.[4]

Stern leaves it as an open question whether the Vilna Gaon called philosophy “accursed” (p. 245). This is obviously an important issue, since if Stern is correct that the Gaon was not really opposed to philosophy, one would not expect him to use the word “accursed.” Yet there is no doubt that the Gaon did indeed use this word. It appears in the first printing of the Gaon’s commentary to the Shulhan Arukh, and its authenticity was attested to by R. Samuel Luria who examined that actual manuscript. Only later was the word removed by the publisher. Contrary to what Stern states, Samuel Joseph Fuenn, Matisyahu Strashun, and Hillel-Noah Maggid Steinschneider do not claim that later editors put in this phrase. The one to make this assertion was R. Zvi Hirsch Katzenellenbogen, and he was hardly a neutral observer.[6]

Several other issues emerge in the book. Stern quotes Aliyot Eliyahu as stating that before the age of thirteen the Gaon was “studying books on engineering for half an hour a day” (p. 38). I am not sure why Stern mentions anything about “thirteen,” as the text is explicit that he was around eight years old. Furthermore, the text says nothing about “engineering.” Rather, it states that the Gaon studied astronomy (tekhunah).

Stern writes that the Gaon “rejected outright” the Shulhan Arukh (p. 60). This is a strange statement being that the Gaon wrote a commentary on the Shulhan Arukh. Furthermore, this commentary was designed to show the earlier rabbinic sources upon which the Shulhan Arukh‘s laws were based. It is true that there are many times when the Gaon disagreed with the Shulhan Arukh. However, what is significant with the Gaon is precisely that he accepted the Shulhan Arukh. He had the stature to reject it had he chosen, and to write his own code, yet he did the exact opposite. By attaching his notes to the Shulhan Arukh he was affirming the work. He personally did not need the Shulhan Arukh and would decide halakhah from the Talmud and rishonim. But when the Shulhan Arukh decided the halakhah correctly, he was content to show the sources for the law, meaning that the work had value and that is why he affirmed it.[7]

Contrary to Stern (pp. 77-78), there is no evidence that the Gaon was influenced by Elijah Levita and the Gaon never mentioned him. When the Gaon wrote that the Masorah disagreed with the Talmud, he was referring to how to spell certain words, and this formulation comes from the Tosafists. He was not in any way identifying with Levita’s notion that the Hebrew vowels originated in post-talmudic times, and was certainly not addressing “the veracity of the cantillations of the Bible” (p. 78). When the Gaon’s son cited Levita, he was also not referring to his view of the vowels, only of the spelling of words.

I do not know what Stern means by “following Nachmanides, the Gaon argues that the book of Deuteronomy was written later than the other four books of the Bible” (p. 80). Quite apart from Nahmanides, this position is found in Gittin 60a, where one view is that the Torah was given “scroll by scroll.” Also on p. 80, Stern states that “the Gaon, in contrast, builds on the historical position laid down by Ibn Ezra that the last verses, though inspired by Moses, were actually ‘arranged’ by Joshua.” This has nothing to do with Ibn Ezra as the Talmud already contains the view that the last verses were written by Joshua (saying nothing about being “inspired” by Moses. [Ibn Ezra also says nothing about the last verses being “inspired” by Moses])

On page 133, Stern quotes a passage from the introduction to R. Judah Epstein’s Minhat Yehudah (Warsaw, 1877) where he writes of “thousands who came to study and the miracle it would take for one to emerge with any teaching ability.” In the Hebrew the final words are “yatza le-hora’ah.” This has nothing to do with teaching but refers to the ability to decide halakhic questions. The expression originates in Kohelet Rabbah 7:49.

Finally, he writes that “when the Volozhin yeshiva opened its doors in 1802, it was the first time that young men from all economic and social backgrounds were afforded the opportunity to study” (p. 150, see also p. 162). I know of no evidence to support this assertion. Both before the Volozhin yeshiva’s opening and after, opportunities for study were limited to those who could afford to support a child away from home, and give up the income he would bring in for the family.

Even though I am not convinced by Stern’s thesis, there is no doubt that this book is filled with learning and insight and has understandably created a good deal of excitement. To appreciate Stern’s efforts and ingenuity, one must read very carefully, and this reading will be rewarded in many ways.

The review you have just read (with the exception of notes 1-5, 7, and one sentence in brackets) appeared on the H-Judaic listserv on July 19, 2013. In the review I was limited in terms of space and I also could not use Hebrew. So let me now add some additional points and corrections that could not be included in the original. Before doing so I want to stress that I enjoyed Stern’s book a great deal, and I also learnt much from it. The Gaon’s scholarship is so wide-ranging that anyone who attempts such a daunting task as to write on him must be commended.[8]

Stern’s first chapter, which puts the Gaon and Vilna in historical perspective, was particularly interesting to me. How many people, for instance, are aware of the following (p. 70): “The roughly 5,500 Jews in and around Vilna (Wojewoda) made up nearly 30 percent of the population, and the 3,500 to 4,000 Jews living within Vilna proper formed an overwhelming majority of the local population.”

I strongly recommend that people read the book, if only to see how the talented author attempts to create a completely new perspective on the Gaon. Almost every page of Stern’s book raises issues that I can comment on, and I could easily have written a hundred page post. I agree with much in the book, and can cite sources in support of a number of points Stern makes. Yet this does not change the fact that I was not convinced by his major arguments. Rather than cite all the things I agree with, let me offer some more comments correcting errors, or offering different interpretations, as well as some tangential observations.

P. 14. Stern tells us that the Gaon’s mother was from Slutzk, and on p. 181 he cites a source that supposedly claims that the Gaon was also born in Slutzk. Yet this is incorrect. The town referred to is not Slutzk but סעלץ. This is the shtetl Selets (or Selcz) around 150 kilometers south-east of Brisk.[9]

P. 15. Stern records how the Gaon wanted to study medicine but was discouraged by his father who wanted his son to devote himself to Torah study. I don’t know if this has any relationship to the Gaon’s unusual (but not unique) view in opposition to using doctors as opposed to turning to God. According to one report, the Gaon only had this view when it came to internal medical problems, but not external ones (e.g., a burn).[12]

P. 17. Stern mentions the report by R. Samuel Luria that the Gaon travelled throughout Europe to find rabbinic manuscripts. Among the legends of these travels is one recorded in the name of R. Joseph Hayyim Sonnenfeld, quoting R. Joshua Leib Diskin, that when the Gaon visited the Munich library and saw the famous manuscript of the Talmud, he said that he would give all the money in the world in order to put it in genizah, because this Talmud was only R. Ashi’s first version (and thus of no authority). This story appears in Menahem Mendel Gerlitz’s Mara de-Ar’a Yisrael (Jerusalem, 1969), vol. 1, p. 57 n. 49. I can’t say whether or not R. Sonnenfeld ever made this comment (and Gerlitz’s book in general is quite unreliable). What I can say is that the story never happened as described for the simple reason that the manuscript only arrived in Munich in 1806, as noted by R. Raphael Rabbinovicz in the introduction to Dikdukei Soferim, vol. 1, p. 35.[13]

P. 44. “He [the Gaon] and his students reinterpreted a strand of kabbalah developed by Abraham Abulafia. . . . Elijah’s circle borrowed heavily from his ideas regarding the mathematical underpinnings of the world.” Unfortunately, this influence is never sufficiently explained and there is confusion about an important text. Thus, Stern writes:

As Menachem Mendel of Shklov wrote, “The word cheshbon [calculus] comes from the word machshava [thought] and this [calculus] is the first form that emerges from the essence of thought.”[14]

To begin with, I don’t know why cheshbon should be translated as “calculus.” I assume it means mathematics.[15]  But that is a minor point, as the general meaning of the passage is clear and R. Menahem Mendel of Shklov tells us that this approach was shared by the Gaon. The more important point, however, is that the sentence quoted as having been stated by R. Menahem Mendel was not stated by him at all. R. Menahem Mendel tells us explicitly that the sentence comes from an early book, one that predates R. Isaac Luria. What we learn from Moshe Idel is that this is actually a quotation from Abulafia.[16] Yet this information does not appear in Stern’s book, even though it would have strengthened his case.

Stern also states: “Elijah’s son Avraham approvingly cites the much-maligned Abulafia, and bestows the honorific “z”l” (the Hebrew acronym for “may his memory be blessed”) on the controversial medieval thinker.”

Here is the page in R. Avraham’s Rav Pealim.

Unfortunately, Stern must have read too quickly and instead of וז”ל [= וזה לשונו] he read the abbreviation as ז”ל, or perhaps he mistakenly connected the ז”ל on the previous line to ר’ אברהם הרואה

Pp. 44ff. Stern argues that according to the Gaon, matter existed eternally and the world was created from this eternal matter. If this was the case, it would be quite significant. Yet I believe that Stern misunderstands what the Gaon is saying. Stern himself quotes the Gaon as explaining that creation means “created from that which exists above.” As I see it, what this means is that matter “found” in the Divine was brought into the world, e.g., through emanation. But this is not the same as speaking of eternal matter, even eternal matter that is lacking form, as these exist apart from God.

With regard to the Gaon and creation, see also R. David Luria’s commentary to Pirkei de-Rabbi Eliezer, ch. 51 n. 17, where he cites a manuscript comment of the Gaon that the world is eternally created. This same viewpoint is shared by R. Hayyim of Volozhin, Nefesh ha-Hayyim ch. 13. I don’t see how this can be reconciled with the Gaon’s comment at the beginning of Aderet Eliyahu that time itself is a creation, and he further speaks of an actual moment of the world’s creation:

בראשית: ב’ הוא ב’ הזמניי. כמו ביום. מפני שהזמן עצמו נברא והב’ מורה על עת הבריאה שהיה בחלק הראשון מהזמן הנברא

If matter is eternal, as Stern claims, or even eternally created, then time is also eternal. But this is clearly not what the Gaon says in the text just quoted.

P. 80. Stern notes that the Gaon’s interpretation of the Mishnah was not bound to how the Talmud explained matters. This is correct, and many people have written on the matter. I mention this only to call attention to the comments of the great genius, R. Meshulam Roth, in his Kol Mevasser, vol. 2, pp. 120-121, 128-129, who felt constrained to argue against this notion. I think it will be obvious to readers that R. Roth’s interpretations of the Gaon are based on his own dogmatic assumption, which he states explicitly, that it is unacceptable to interpret the Mishnah in a way that diverges from the talmudic interpretation.

P. 97. Stern writes:

Contrast Elijah’s vision with the picture of intimacy expressed by Rabbi Pinchas of Korzec (1726-1791): “Prayer is like intercourse with the Divine Presence. At the beginning of intercourse there are motions. Similarly, there is a need for motion in prayer. One should move when beginning to pray. Later on, one can stand without moving, attached to the Divine Presence with a powerful bond. As a result of the motions alone one can attain dvekut.”

In the note the source for this quotation is given as Likutim Yekarim, 18, and the bibliography tells us that the edition used is Lemberg, 1792 (the first edition). Yet there is some confusion here. R. Pinchas of Koretz indeed wrote a book entitled Likutim Yekarim, but the book where the passage cited comes from is another Likutim Yekarim, one that records the teachings of other early Hasidic teachers. Here is the title page.

Furthermore, the reader looking at page 18 in the first edition of (the correct) Likutim Yekarim will not find anything, as the text is on page 1a. In the 1974 edition the text is found in section 18, but as far as I can tell, these sections were only added in this edition.[17]

Here is the relevant page from the first edition, and the comment referred to is in the last paragraph. The last sentence of the translation quoted above (“As a result . . .”) is not an accurate rendering of the Hebrew sentence that begins מכח מה שמנענע

P. 102: “While it is doubtful that Elijah endorsed or defended Eibeschuetz’s or Luzzatto’s Sabbatian tendencies, he never publicly condemned their works.” Instead of the word “doubtful,” which leaves some room for question, the sentence should say that “it is certain that Elijah never endorsed or defended . . .” I leave aside for now the question of why Stern is so certain that Luzzatto had Sabbatian tendencies, and simply note that the Gaon would have rejected such an assumption in the strongest terms. The Eibeschuetz case is more complicated,[18] but I don’t understand how “Eibeschuetz’s Sabbatian proclivities were revealed when his son Wolff was unmasked as a closet Sabbatian” (p. 99). Since when do the actions of a son determine the stance of a father?

Let us now return to the issue of the Gaon’s view of philosophy, which was mentioned earlier in this post, and when I refer to philosophy I have in mind rationalism. Stern, p. 129, argues that the Gaon was not opposed to philosophy and as evidence for this proposition notes that the Gaon uses Aristotelian terms, cites the Guide once in his Aderet Eliyahu, and procured a copy of Aristotle’s Ethics. He then writes, “This evidence has led some to suggest that Elijah objected to a materialistic or epicurean lifestyle often associated with philosophy, but not to philosophy’s heuristic value.”

While I think that Stern is indeed correct that the Gaon saw heuristic value in philosophy, I was still quite surprised when I read this sentence, since I had never heard of anyone who argued that the Gaon’s only concern with philosophy was the materialistic lifestyle associated with it. When I looked in Stern’s note (p. 246 n. 55) it didn’t help. This is what appears in the note:

See Moshe Philip, ed., Sefer Mishlei im Biur ha-Gra (Petach Tikvah: 2001), 441 and Eliyahu Stern, “Philosophy and Dissimulation in Elijah of Vilna’s Writings and Legacy,” Revue Internationale de Philosophie (forthcoming). On Elijah reading Aristotle, see his letter to Rabbi Shaul of Amsterdam recorded in Tzvi ha-Levi Horowitz, Kitvei ha-Geonim (Warsaw: 1938 [should be 1928]), 3-10.

I don’t know what is intended by the first reference, as there is a typo since the volume does not contain 441 pages. Stern’s forthcoming article can only be discussed when it appears in print, but the book under review does not give any reference to others who argued that the Gaon had no substantive opposition to philosophy. Also, contrary to what Stern states here, the Gaon did not write to R. Saul of Amsterdam asking him to send him the Ethics. The letter Stern refers to was actually written by the Gaon’s brother, R. Yissakhar Ber.[19]

In the note directly following the one just referred to, Stern concludes based upon the introduction of R. Menahem Mendel of Shklov to the Gaon’s commentary to Avot and R. Israel of Shklov’s introduction to his Peat ha-Shulhan that “Elijah was secretly positively inclined to the study of philosophy.” He again refers to his forthcoming article where he develops this point. As mentioned already, discussion of this article must wait until it appears in print. In the meantime, however, it is difficult to accept this point without a clear articulation of what exactly Stern means by “study of philosophy”, since in R. Israel of Shklov’s introduction to Peat ha-Shulhan he writes as follows:

ועל חכמת הפילוסופי’ אמר [הגר”א] שלמד אותה לתכליתה ולא הוציא ממנה רק ב’ דברים טובים . . . והשאר צריך להשליכה החוצה.

R. Israel of Shklov also notes that the Gaon knew חכמת הכישוף which contradicts Stern’s statement that according to the Gaon “references to demons, magic, charms, and other irrational objects and ideas cannot be ignored—though not per se because he thinks they actually exist.” (p. 129).

See also Ma’aseh Rav (Jerusalem, 1906), Siah Eliyahu, p. 21b (no. 61(, which states that the Gaon would not study R. Bahya Ibn Paquda’s philosophically based Sha’ar ha-Yihud (in the Hovot ha-Levavot):

והי’ מחבב הגר”א ז”ל ס’ מנורת המאור וס’ חובת הלבבות זולת שער היחוד ובמקום שער היחוד הי’ אומר שילמדו בס’ הכוזרי הראשון שהוא קדוש וטהור ועיקרי אמונת ישראל ותורה תלוין בו.

There is another passage that is relevant, but as far as I know has not been cited in any of the scholarly discussions about the Gaon and philosophy. R. Hillel Rivlin, Kol ha-Tor (Bnei Brak, 1969), ch. 5:2, quotes the Gaon as saying the following about philosophy, and you can’t get any clearer than this:

את חכמת הפילוסיפיה למדה לתכליתה ולא מצא בה כי אם דברים אחדים שמקורם לוקח מחז”ל ועל השאר אמר, שאין בה לא הגיון ולא צדק ומיוסדת על אפיקורסות אווילית.

As mentioned, you can’t get any clearer than this, but I realize that this is not the Gaon speaking but rather a student, so it is possible to argue that he, and also R. Israel of Shklov, didn’t properly portray their teacher.

The passage that creates so many problems for Stern’s thesis is found in the Gaon’s commentary to Yoreh Deah 179:13. In this text, the Gaon famously attacks Maimonides for being led astray by “accursed philosophy.”

Stern argues that the Gaon does not oppose the study of (even rationalist) philosophy per se. Rather, his opposition is directed at how “a philosophical approach may ignore linguistic nuance” (p. 129). I think this is very unlikely, and it appears to me that Stern is trying to force his interpretation into the words of the Gaon when the more likely, and natural, interpretation is that the Gaon indeed opposes the study of (rationalist) philosophy.[20] (On p. 130 Stern claims that the Gaon was not opposed to the study of “secular philosophy” which is an even more far-reaching claim.) Beyond what the Gaon writes in his comment on the Shulhan Arukh, there is the way he writes it, which unfortunately is not reflected in Stern’s translation. Here is how Stern renders the first part of the text:

All those who came after Maimonides differed [because they did not use his rational allegorical interpretive technique]. For many times we find magical incantations mentioned in the Talmud. Maimonides and philosophers claimed that such magical writings and incantations, and devils, are all false. However, he [Maimonides] was already reprimanded for such an interpretation. For we have found many accounts in the Talmud about magical incantations and writings. . . . Philosophy is mistaken in a majority of cases when it interprets the Talmud in a superficial manner and destroys the sensus literalis of the text. But one should not think that I in any way, Heaven forbid, actually believe in them or in what they stand for.

In this comment the Gaon writes:

והוא נמשך אחר הפלוסופיא הארורה         .

This means that Maimonides “followed after the accursed philosophy.” However, Stern mistakenly translates these words: “Maimonides and philosophers claimed.”

Later in his comment the Gaon writes:

והפלסופיא הטתו ברוב לקחה לפרש הגמרא הכל בדרך הלציי

Stern translates this as “Philosophy is mistaken in a majority of cases when it interprets the Talmud in a superficial manner.” This too is a incorrect translation. What the Gaon is saying is that philosophy misled Maimonides to falsely explain the Talmud. So again, we see the great dangers of philosophy, and how it was able to lead astray even Maimonides. (There is nothing in the Gaon’s comment about “a majority of cases”). The final words quoted from the Gaon, בדרך הלציי, do not mean “superficial manner.” They mean “in a figurative sense.”

What can we say about the Gaon and Maimonides’ Guide? Although I hadn’t investigated the matter properly, for awhile I thought that the Gaon didn’t study the Guide in a serious manner. Anyone who reads Stern will see that this is incorrect. In fact, the Guide was even studied in Vilna during the Gaon’s time. The following passage from Aliyot Eliyahu (Vilna, 1892), p. 13a, should have been cited in the text by Stern as exhibit no. 1, as it is a strong piece of evidence in support of his position. For some reason, it is only summarized in a note (p. 246 n. 58):

וסיפר לי הרב כו’ הישיש מ’ ישראל גארדאן רב בווילנא (אשר היה מכיר היטב את הגאון נ”ע ודירתו היה בחומת אביו וקודם פטירתו היה דר הגאון בחצר בהכנ”ס) אשר היה נכנס ויוצא כפעם בפעם בבית הגאון נ”ע ושמע פ”א אשר בא הרב ר’ טרייטיל ז”ל לפני הגאון והרעיש על אשר ראו עיניו שאנשים קבעו למודם בבהמ”ד בספר מורה נבוכים וביקש שהגאון ימחה בידם והגאון השיבו בחרי אף ואמר ומי יעיז לדבר נגד כבוד הרמב”ם וספרו אשר מי יתנני ואהיה עמו במחיצתו בגן עדן.

There is no question that this report complicates the picture and shows that the Gaon’s view of the Guide was more complex than often portrayed. We see from it that unlike others, the Gaon, despite his strong criticism of Maimonides and general opposition to rationalist philosophy, nevertheless believed that the Guide had value and qualified scholars should not be prevented from studying it. 

After quoting this passage in Aliyot Eliyahu, R. Shlomo Korah adds, “There is a story about someone who asked his rebbe if it is permitted to study the Guide. He replied, ‘The Rambam permits it —הרמב”ם מתיר ”.[21]

Alan Brill has also made the case that the Gaon saw value in philosophy and calls attention to the fact that in a text attributed to the Gaon, there is a summary of a section of the Guide. See his “Auxiliary to Hokhmah: The Writings of the Vilna Gaon and Philosophical Terminology, in Moshe Hallamish, et al., eds., Ha-Gra u-Veit Midrasho (Ramat Gan, 2003), p. 10. This shows that philosophy has value, as I too acknowledge, but this has nothing to do with rationalism, which the Gaon strongly opposed.

It is also worth noting that R. Shneur Zalman of Lyady, in responding to the reported theological objections that the Gaon expressed about early hasidut, wrote as follows[22]:

ומי יתן ידעתיו ואנחהו ואערכה לפניו משפטינו להסיר מעלינו כל תלונותיו וטענותיו הפילוסיפיות אשר הלך בעקבותיהם, לפי דברי תלמידיו הנ”ל, לחקור אלקות בשכל אנושי

In other words, and this is really ironic, R. Shneur Zalman assumes that Gaon was led astray by philosophy and that explains his objections![23]

The reason I had my mistaken assumption that the Gaon didn’t study the Guide in any significant way was because the Gaon didn’t refer to it in his commentary to the Shulhan Arukh, even when he had the opportunity, such as in his note to Yoreh Deah 179:13. Another place where he could have referred to the Guide is in the very first halakhah in Orah Hayyim. R. Moses Isserles is quoting from Maimonides’ Guide, and rather than refer the reader to this, the Gaon offers sources for the Rama’s formulation from rabbinic literature. Yet even before reading Stern’s book I should have seen that the Rama in Darkhei Moshe tells us that he is quoting the Guide, and one should assume that the Gaon saw this text.

This is how R. Isserles begins the Darkhei Moshe (and he begins the Shulhan Arukh similarly):

כתב הרמב”ם בספר מורה הנבוכים חלק ג’ פרק נב שמיד שאדם ניעור משנתו בבוקר מיד יחשוב בלבו לפני מי הוא שוכב וידע שהמלך מלכי המלכים הקב”ה יתעלה חופף עליו שנאמר (ישעיה ו, ג) ) מלא כל הארץ כבודו.

R. Isserles quotes Maimonides as saying that as soon as you wake up in the morning you should think about God. Yet if you look at Guide 3:52 that he is quoting you find something interesting. Here is the passage in Ibn Tibbon’s translation (which is what the Rama used).

מי שיבחר בשלמות האנושי ושיהיה איש הא-להים באמת יעור משינתו וידע שהמלך הגדול המחופף עליו והדבק עמו תמיד הוא גדול מכל מלך בשר ודם ואילו היה דוד ושלמה, והמלך ההוא הדבק המחופף הוא השכל השופע עלינו שהוא הדבוק אשר בינינו ובין הש”י . . . וכבר ידעת הזהירם מלכת בקומה זקופה, משום מלא כל הארץ כבודו.

Where does the Rama get his formulation that as soon as one awakes – מיד שאדם ניעור משנתו – he should think of God? It comes from Maimonides’ words we just read: יעור משינתו. As pointed out by Raphael Speyer,[24] it seems that the Rama simply misunderstood what Maimonides (in Ibn Tibbon’s translation) was saying. The words יעיר משינתו have nothing to do with awakening from sleep in any literal sense. Rather, the expression simply refers to people who are figuratively awakening from their slumber and can now recognize God’s presence. Therefore, there was no need for the Rama in seeking to make his point to include anything about getting up in the morning.

In the Datche’s editor’s response to Speyer, he pointed out another problem with the Rama’s formulation. While the Rama writes of  מלך מלכי המלכים הקב”ה יתעלה חופף עליו, this is not what Maimonides says. According to Maimonides, “this king who cleaves to him and accompanies him is the intellect that overflows toward us and is the bond between us and Him, may He be exalted.” In other words, Maimonides is speaking about the Active Intellect yet the Rama turns this into God Himself. It is because of things like this that Yeshayahu Leibowitz was led to declare that the Rama “didn’t understand philosophy and didn’t understand the Guide of the Perplexed.” He also referred to the Rama’s Torat ha-Olah as a work of “pseudo-philosophy.”[25]

This might seem like an unfair statement, and I am sure that Yonah Ben Sasson would reject it,[26] but consider the following. No one could be regarded as a rabbinic scholar if all he studied was the Mishneh Torah, without examining the talmudic passages upon which the Mishneh Torah is based. In fact, I think all would agree that one can’t really understand the Mishneh Torah without knowing the talmudic sources. By the same token, one can’t really understand the Guide without knowing the Aristotelian sources upon which so much of Maimonides’ words are based. Yet the Rama tells us, in his famous letter to R. Solomon Luria,[27] that he never actually studied Aristotle and his only knowledge of him comes from Maimonides’ Guide and other Jewish sources.

כי אף שהבאתי מקצת דברי אריסטו מעידני עלי שמים וארץ שכל ימי לא עסקתי בשום ספר מספריו רק מה שעסקתי בספר המורה שיגעתי בו ומצאתי ת”ל [תהלה לא-ל] ושאר ספרי הטבע כשער השמים וכדומיהין, שחברו חז”ל ומהם כתבתי מה שכתבתי מדברי אריסטו.

Interestingly, I found one place, Torat ha-Olah 3:47, where the Rama speaks very disrespectfully of Maimonides’ philosophical knowledge, referring to it as foolishness.

ואין לך סכלות חכמתו גדולה מזה

Nevertheless, the Gaon placed the Rama together with Maimonides in his other sharp criticism of the latter[28]:

אבל לא ראו את הפרדס, לא הוא [הרמ”א] ולא הרמב”ם

Information about my summer trips to Spain, Central Europe, and Italy will be available soon. Anyone interested should check out the Torah in Motion website. Marc Glickman, one of the participants on last year’s tour to Central Europe, described it as follows: “It was great to meet Marc and he was a fantastic guide. The trip was like a living Seforim Blog post (I follow his posts religiously).” Thank you Marc!

Also for those interested, I will be speaking on R. Ovadiah Yosef at Ohab Zedek in NYC on December 17 at 8:15pm.