Response to Criticism, Part 3

Marc B. Shapiro

Continued from here.

Let me continue with Rabbi Herschel Grossman’s review. [1] This post will complete my response to around a quarter of his review, so we still have a long way to go.

Grossman writes (p. 42)

According to Shapiro, “Maimonides would be surprised that . . . later generations of Jews . . . latched onto his earlier work;” and it “is certainly one of the great ironies of Jewish history that the Thirteen Principles became the standard by which orthodoxy was judged.” Finally, “the characteristic that gave them their afterlife . . . is precisely their outer form . . . Had Maimonides listed a different number of principles in the Mishneh Torah . . . these would have become the Principles of Judaism.” In other words, after postulating that Rambam innovated these obligatory beliefs, Shapiro concludes that it was the popular acceptance of these Principles that established halachic practice.

If you look at the quotations from my book that Grossman has cited, you can see ellipses. The problem here, and this would be unknown to the average reader who does not bother to see what I actually wrote, is that the complete sentences without the ellipses mean something very different than what Grossman wants the readers to think they say. Here is the complete first sentence that he cites (from p. 7 in my book): “Presumably, Maimonides would be surprised that in seeking to define the essentials of Judaism, later generations of Jews, both scholars and masses, had latched onto his earlier work rather than his more detailed formulation in the Mishneh Torah.” I think all readers will agree that the part of the sentence that Grossman quotes, with strategic ellipses, does not give the reader the true sense of the sentence. I can’t say whether this is a result of bad faith or careless writing.

Here is the complete second sentence that Grossman cites (from p. 15 in my book): “It is certainly one of the ironies of Jewish history that the Thirteen Principles became the standard by which orthodoxy was judged, for, as is well known, Maimonides himself was attacked for supposedly holding heretical views, at odds with his very own Principles.” Again, we see that by use of a strategic ellipsis, Grossman give the reader a false impression of what I wrote.

Here is the complete third selection that Grossman cites (from p. 14 in my book).

Returning to the Thirteen Principles, the characteristic that gave them their afterlife and caused them to become the formulation of the Jewish creed is precisely their outer form, that is, the fact that they were formulated as a catechism with all the Principles listed together. Had Maimonides listed a different number of Principles in the Mishneh Torah (e.g., twelve or fourteen), these would have become the principles of Judaism. But he did not, and thus the Thirteen Principles stuck.

In this case, the use of ellipses does not distort what I said.

Grossman states that I postulated that “Rambam innovated these obligatory beliefs.” We have already seen that this is complete nonsense. I never said that Maimonides invented the “obligatory beliefs,” as this would mean that before Maimonides there was no conception of traditional Jewish beliefs, which is a ridiculous notion.

In his final sentence, Grossman states that I concluded “that it was popular acceptance of these Principles that established halachic practice.” This is indeed my opinion, but I would also add that it obviously took time for the Principles to achieve widespread acceptance. Nothing I have said here is unusual or radical, and it is also opinion of many others who have written on the subject. Here, for example, is what R. Meir Orian writes in his book on the Rambam (published by Mossad ha-Rav Kook).[2]

ראינו כי בעצם ערר רבנו משה התנגדות בכל חיבור שכתב . . . גם קביעתם של שלשה עשר העיקרים של היהדות – שבמרוצת השנים נתקדשו בקדושת התורה והאומה – לא היתה לפי רוח גדולי הדור שבזמנו

There were other competing systems of dogma, but I state that none of them could compete with Maimonides’ formulation, both because of Maimonides’ supreme authority and also because popular piety prefers more dogmas to fewer. It is no accident that there are almost a hundred different poetic versions of the Principles, of which Yigdal is only the most famous. These are reflections of the popular attachment to the Principles, not to any rabbinic decision in favor of Maimonides. So if we conclude that the Principles establish halakhic practice, then yes, it was popular acceptance of these Principles that established the halakhic practice, much like popular acceptance and rejection of halakhic rulings throughout history has established halakhic practice.

Had the religious masses accepted an alternative formulation of Jewish dogma, then this would have become the standard. The rabbis can give rulings, but from talmudic times to the present it is the masses of religious Jews that determine if a halakhic ruling is accepted or not. Even with regard to the greatest poskim, you find that for some of their rulings the religious masses simply refused to accept them (perhaps because they found them too difficult and were already accustomed to do things in a different way, e.g., R. Moshe Feinstein and time clocks on Shabbat). I am not sure what Grossman’s problem is with the notion that popular acceptance can determine halakhic practice. Maybe he thinks that halakhah is only about the posek issuing a ruling. However, especially when speaking historically, we must also take into account that the religious masses (the “olam”) also have a crucial role to play in how halakhah develops.

This important notion is elaborated upon in the recent book by R. Ronen Neuwirth, The Narrow Halakhic Bridge, pp. 293ff. Here is one passage from R. Kook that R. Neuwirth quotes (from Eder he-Yekar, p. 39): “All of the mitzvot of the rabbis that we fulfill – their main foundation is the acceptance of ‘the entire nation’ which is the honor of the nation.”

Grossman, pp. 42-43, quotes the following sentence from my book (p. 17, mistakenly omitting a few words in his citation):

It seems that there is even halakhic significance to the Principles, as seen in the fact that R. Israel Meir Hakohen [Mishnah Berurah 126:2] records that one who denies the divinity of the Torah, reward and punishment, the future redemption, and the resurrection cannot serve as a prayer leader. Had Maimonides not included these Principles in his list, it is unlikely that denial of the last two, which are not necessarily of prime importance to a religious life, would disqualify one in this way.

Grossman writes:

Contrary to Shapiro’s hasty assumption, the Rambam is not the source for this Halacha. The source is the Talmud Yerushalmi, cited by the Tur [Orah Hayyim 126] as follows: “A prayer leader who skips two or three words does not have to go back to say them, except for one who does not mention ‘the Resurrection of the Dead,’ for perhaps he is a disbeliever [kofer] in the Resurrection of the Dead, and [the blessing] ‘Who rebuilds Jerusalem,’ for perhaps he does not believe in the Coming of the Mashiach.” Obviously, the ruling of the Mishnah Berurah is not an “invention” based on the Rambam.

Grossman’s translation is not exact as אין מחזירין אותו does not mean “does not have to go back”, and the translation also omits the words ומכניע זדים שמא מין הוא, but for our purposes this is not crucial.

The first thing to note is that I never said that the Mishnah Berurah’s source for his ruling is the Rambam’s Principles. What I said is that had the Rambam not included the Messianic era and Resurrection among his principles, denial of them would not have been enough to affect a Jew’s status (so that he couldn’t be a prayer leader, etc.). I will explain what I mean, as Grossman has once again completely misunderstood my point.

Let us take Resurrection, which is mentioned in the Mishnah as an obligatory belief. Nevertheless, the Rambam was suspected by both opponents and supporters as not really believing in it literally. In response to this suspicion, he wrote his famous Letter on Resurrection, which affirms the literalness of Resurrection and tells us that when he included it in his Principles he really meant it. Imagine if Maimonides, in his Letter on Resurrection, had not affirmed literal Resurrection, but instead defended the notion that it is to be understood metaphorically, as referring to the World to Come. Had that occurred, then the Rambam’s great authority would have ensured that belief in Resurrection would not be required.

My point is therefore simple: If the Rambam had declared that belief in Resurrection is not required, I do not believe that the Mishnah Berurah would have regarded this approach as heretical and thus invalidated a hazzan who held such a view, despite what other rishonim might have held. Similarly, had the Rambam not included the Messianic Era as a Principles of Faith, I do not believe that it would have been regarded as an obligatory belief, denial of which is heresy. It might have been a “recommended” belief, but not a generally accepted “obligatory” belief. In my opinion, this shows the great significance of the Rambam from both a theological and a halakhic perspective.

If you look at Jewish history, you will find that while many have asserted that certain beliefs are obligatory (e.g., gilgul, existence of demons, Divine Providence encompassing the animal kingdom, Daas Torah, R. Shimon Ben Yohai authored the Zohar, the Sages were infallible in matters of science), these beliefs have never become generally accepted to the extent that those who do not share them are regarded by the wider Orthodox world as outside the fold. Only Maimonides’s Principles were able to do such a thing. This explains what I mean when I say that had Maimonides not regarded the Messianic Era or Resurrection as obligatory beliefs, that “it is unlikely that denial” of them would have been enough to place the stamp of heresy on such a person, and thus to disqualify him from being a hazzan.

On p. 44 of his article, Grossman returns to the matter that I (and others) raised, that the Thirteen Principles are not mentioned in the Mishneh Torah. I also suggested that in his later works Maimonides was not attached to his earlier formulation of thirteen principles, as he presents a more detailed formulation of required beliefs in the Mishneh Torah.

In response to my point that one would have expected the Thirteen Principles to be listed in Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah, Grossman writes (p. 44)

Here, too, Shapiro indicates that he is unaware of the structure of the Mishneh Torah. The entire work is an expansion of the 613 Mitzvos: The entire work is introduced by Rambam’s Sefer haMitzvos which lists all 613 Mitzvos, and each of the sections (Halachos) has a listing of the Mitzvos included therein. Consequently, there is no place to highlight the Thirteen Principles in Hilchos Yesodey haTorah, since there are explicit Mitzvos for only three of them—emunah, yichud and avodah zarah, which he in fact does list in the introduction to this section. He could not have listed all the rest since they are not Mitzvos.

I reject this paragraph. There is a good deal in Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah that has nothing to do with “explicit Mitzvos.” For that matter, there is a good deal in the Mishneh Torah as a whole that is not related to “explicit Mitzvos.” In addition to what I mentioned in my last post, one can also add the last two chapters of Hilkhot Melakhim, which are about the messianic era and have nothing to do with mitzvot. The Rambam included these chapters because he felt that this material is important, and he did not limit himself in the Mishneh Torah to only matters that derive from ‘explicit Mitzvos”. Therefore, there is nothing about the “structure of the Mishneh Torah” that would have prevented him from listing the Thirteen Principles as a unit in Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah or elsewhere. In fact, most of the Principles are already listed in Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah, but just not together as a unit (which was my point), which shows that he had no problem listing them even though “they are not Mitzvos.”[3]

As for my wondering why the Principles are not listed together as a unit, which Grossman sees as an illustration of how I am unaware of the structure of the Mishneh Torah, let me begin by repeating what I wrote in my last post: R. Yaakov Nissan Rosenthal, on the very first page of his commentary Mishnat Yaakov to Sefer ha-Madda, also wonders about the point I made, that the Thirteen Principles as a unit are never mentioned in the Mishneh Torah. (Had I known this when I wrote my book, I certainly would have cited it.)[4]

ותימא למה לא הביא הרמב“ם בספרו ה”יד החזקה” את הענין הזה של י“ג עיקרי האמונה, וצ”ע

R. Avraham Menahem Hochman writes:[5]

. . .מאחר וכל כך חמורה הכפירה, וגדולה החובה לדעת את י”ג העיקרים, כיצד זה השמיטם מספרו ה”יד החזקה”, ולא כתבם כפי שסדרם בפירוש המשנה

והנה אחר שהתבאר שהאמונה בי”ג העיקרים היא בסיס לתורה נשוב לשאלה הרביעית (בסוף פרק ה’) אשר לכאורה היא פליאה עצומה מדוע השמיט הרמב”ם ביד החזקה את החובה הגדולה להאמין בי”ג עיקרים, באופן חיובי, ולא סדרם כי”ג יסודי האמונה שחובה להאמין בהם

R. Hochman goes on to explain that most of the Principles are indeed mentioned in Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torahin a positive sense (even if not as a unit of Thirteen Principles). He also notes the following important point, that when principles of faith are mentioned in the Talmud, they are never listed in a positive sense, that one must believe X. Rather, they are listed in a negative sense, that one who denies X has no share in the World to Come. Why Maimonides, in his Commentary on the Mishnah, chose to formulate the Principles in a positive sense and require active belief as a necessity for all Jews—something the Talmud never explicitly required—is an interesting point which we will come back to. Regarding some of the Principles the difference is clear. For example, according to the Talmud, denial of Resurrection is heresy, but one who has never heard of the Resurrection and thus does not deny it, or affirm it, is a Jew in good standing. For Maimonides, however, the doctrine of Resurrection must be positively affirmed. In a future post we can come back to which Principles even the Talmud implicitly requires positive affirmation of (obviously number 1, belief in God, but there could be others as well).

Even when it comes to other basic ideas of Maimonides, which are not included as part of the Thirteen Principles, we find that scholars wondered why Maimonides did not include them in Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah. For example, R. Joseph Ibn Caspi writes:[6]

.הנה תמהתי על כבודו בספרי המכונה ספר הסוד, כי [אם] כן עשה הוא דעת תורתנו ויסוד הדת למה לא מנה זה בהלכות יסוד [!] התורה בתחלת מנותו היסודות

With regard to the Thirteen Principles themselves, in R. Jacob Yitzhaki’s popular Sephardic Mahzor Oholei Yaakov: Rosh ha-Shanah, p. 59b, he states:

.ובאמת גם הרמב”ם ז”ל לא זכר מהעיקרים הללו לא בספרו הגדול משנה תורה ולא בס’ המורה שחבר אחריו בזקנותו. ואם היה עודנו מחזיק בם היה לו להזכירם בס’ המדע והמורה, כי שם מקומם, ורק נזכרו בפי’ המשנה שחבר בבחרותו כידוע

R. Yitzhaki agrees with my point that it is significant that the Thirteen Principles as a unit are not mentioned in the Mishneh Torah(or in the Guide of the Perplexed; he is obviously aware that the individual principles appear in various places in the Mishneh Torah). His words, ואם היה עודנו מחזיק בם היה לו להזכירם, show that he, too, is not certain that the notion of Thirteen Principles was still something the Rambam held to when he wrote the Mishneh Torahand Guide of the Perplexed. Grossman can reject R. Yitzhaki’s point the same way he rejects what I wrote, but readers can see that what we have written is not something completely ignorant, as Grossman would have people believe.

On pp. 44-45, in response to my suggestion that in his later years the Rambam did not feel bound to the Thirteen Principles as the ultimate summation of Judaism, Grossman refers to a passage in the Rambam’s Letter on Resurrection. Here the Rambam mentions that in his commentary to Sanhedrin he expounded on fundamentals of Judaism, and he mentions that he did likewise in the Introduction to the Mishnah and the Mishneh Torah. I myself refer to this source in Limits, p. 6, as one of the few times the Rambam mentions the Principles subsequent to his the Commentary on the Mishnah. This does not change the fact that the Rambam does not refer to the Principles as a unit in the Mishneh Torah or the Guide, and the understanding of Judaism found in these latter works is not always the same as what we see in the Principles. I would assume that it is in the Rambam’s later, and indeed greater, works that we should look in order to identify his final statements on matters of Jewish belief.

The real problem is that again, Grossman simply does not understand what I am saying. He concludes this section of his criticisms by stating that, “Clearly the Rambam has not retracted his opinion that there are Principles, or roots – lacking belief in which, one is missing the fundamentals of Judaism.” Of course, I never said that in his later years the Rambam did not believe that there are Principles of Judaism. Even if we never had his Thirteen Principles, you can look at the Mishneh Torah and see that there are beliefs that if you deny them, you are missing the fundamentals of Judaism. My point about the Rambam not being tied to the Thirteen Principles has nothing to do with this. It thus makes no sense for Grossman, p. 46, to write that in the Guide the Rambam refers to the fundamentals of faith, and then to cite chapters from this work that require belief in God’s incorporeality, as if this has anything to do with what we are talking about. Let us not forget that it was the Rambam who chose thirteen principles.[7] He did not find this in the Torah or in the Talmud. When you examine the Mishneh Torah you see that he could just as easily have chosen fourteen principles, or even more (and later writers indeed added additional principles).

There is no need to belabor this any longer, but let me call attention to an error Grossman makes on pp. 46-47. He states that R. Joseph Albo refers to the Guide of the Perplexed “in explicating Rambam’s Principles.” He then cites Albo’s Sefer ha-Ikarim 1:3: “And why did he not include the dogma of creation, which everyone professing a divine law is obliged to believe, as Maimonides himself explains in the twenty-fifth chapter of the second part of the Guide of the Perplexed?” This is not an example of Albo using the Guide to explicate the Rambam’s Principles. In this chapter of Sefer ha-Ikarim, Albo asks why the Rambam does not include creation as one of the Thirteen Principles. He cites the Guide not to explicate the Principles but to show that the Rambam regarded creation as an essential doctrine, and therefore it should have appeared in the Principles. (Albo was unaware that later in life the Rambam added to the Fourth Principle the belief in creation ex nihilo.)

One point that Grossman is adamant about is that it is improper to suggest that the Rambam changed his mind when it comes to the Principles. That is because, Grossman states, the Rambam revised his Commentary on the Mishnah throughout his life, so if he did not change what he wrote in the Principles, it is “an indisputable indication” (p. 46) that it remained his opinion. The reader of Grossman’s essay will not realize that it is not a major point of my book to argue that the Rambam changed his mind about his formulations in the Principles. What I do suggest is that the Thirteen Principles as a unit is not his final statement of dogma, because he does not mention it in the Mishneh Torah or the Guide, and in those works you find other doctrines that are regarded as principles of faith which are not included in the Thirteen Principles. Furthermore, as we shall see in future posts, the Rambam has different emphases and even outright contradictions to the Thirteen Principles in his later works, so we are left with assuming that either he changed his mind or that his formulations in the Thirteen Principles were intended for a certain audience, but did not represent his true view, which would only later be revealed in the Guide – and perhaps even in the Mishneh Torah – to the spiritual and intellectual elites. I will deal with this in greater detail in a future installment of my response to Grossman. For now I just want to note that the approach that he regards as ignorant as well as apparently blasphemous, that the Rambam changed his views about certain matters in the Principles, is not unknown even among rabbinic figures.

In Limits, p. 148, I noted that R. Meir Don Plotzki claimed that while in the Twelfth Principle the Rambam requires that the Messiah be descended from Solomon, he does not mention this in the Mishneh Torah. For R. Plotzki, this shows that the Rambam retracted his earlier view (even though he never corrected what he wrote about this principle in the Commentary on the Mishnah).[8] This again illustrates the problem with so many of Grossman’s criticisms of me. He points to things I wrote that he thinks are absurd and ignorant, but what happens when I show that great rabbinic figures have said the same thing? Obviously, Grossman would not criticize them in the same way. Is this an example of the old “they could say it but you can’t”?

R. Eliyahu Meir Feivelson notes that in the Sefer ha-Mitzvot, Positive Commandment, no. 4, the Rambam includes as part of “fear of God,” fear of punishment. However, when he describes this mitzvah in the Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah2:1-2, there is no mention of fear of punishment, only what is called יראת הרוממות. R. Feivelson writes[9]:

ויש להעיר עוד, שאולי יותר נכון לומר בדעת הרמב”ם, שהוא חזר בו מדבריו בספר המצוות, ולכן בספר משנה תורה נקט את יראת הרוממות. ורגליים לדבר, שהרי בהקדמתו לפרק חלק מנה הרמב”ם את האמונה בשכר ועונש, וכאחד מי”ג עיקרי אמונה. ואילו בהלכות תשובה (פ”ג הל, ו’-ח’) מנה את כל עיקרי האמונה פעם נוספת (ותחת זה מנה שם את האמונה בתורה שבכתב ושבע”פ לשני עיקרים), ולא הזכיר שם את האמונה בשכר ועונש, ושמא זה מוכיח על שינוי דעתו בענין זה

R. Feivelson mentions that in the Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Teshuvah3:6-8, when the Rambam lists the different types of heretical beliefs, there is nothing about Reward and Punishment. He therefore suggests that the Rambam changed his mind and no longer regarded this as a Principle.

If Grossman would read R. Feivelson like he reads me, he would protest that it is outrageous to suggest that the Rambam stopped believing in, or requiring belief in, Reward and Punishment. But this would be a mistake. R. Feivelson knows full well that Reward and Punishment is an important Jewish belief. He also knows that Hilkhot Teshuvah, chapter 8, is all about Reward and Punishment. All he is suggesting is that the Rambam ceased to regard this as one of the Principles of Judaism, denial of which is heresy, and which everyone must also positively affirm to be regarded as part of the Jewish community. Or perhaps he only means to say that the Rambam removed Reward and Punishment from the Principles so people would not focus on this as a motivation to observe of the Torah. If R. Feivelson is correct, then Reward and Punishment is no different than other true beliefs which the Rambam didn’t see fit to include in the Thirteen Principles.[10]

R. Feivelson’s basic idea, that the Rambam changed his mind about including Reward and Punishment as one of the Principles, was actually earlier suggested by R. Solomon of Chelm in his classic commentary Mirkevet ha-Mishneh, Hilkhot Teshuvah3:8:

(. . .וזה מכוון נגד י”ג עיקרים שבפירוש המשנה אלא שבחדא יש חזרה, ושם מונה שכר ועונש, וכאן בחיבורו השמיטו (לפי דמצוה לעבוד שלא ע”מ לקבל פרס מאהבה

Let me turn to one other place where it is possible that the Rambam changed his mind in a matter of dogma. There are a number of discussions of the Rambam’s view of the Messiah, and it is typically stated that he believes that the Messiah will be a prophet. Since R. Alter Hilewitz was recently mentioned in the Seforim Blog here, let me cite him.[11]

שהמלך המשיח בעצמו יהיה נביא, ולא סתם נביא, אלא נביא יותר גדול מכל הנביאים פרט למשה

That the Messiah will be a prophet is often stated as part of the dogma of belief in the Messiah, yet there is nothing in the Twelfth Principle about the Messiah being a prophet. Why then do so many assume that this is part of the Rambam’s Principle? I think the answer is because in the Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Teshuvah 9:2, the Rambam states that the Messiah will be a great prophet, close to the level of Moses. He also mentions this in his Letter to Yemen.[12]

As mentioned, there is nothing in the Twelfth Principle about the Messiah being a prophet. Does this mean that the Rambam changed his mind? I don’t think we can say for sure. Yet it is noteworthy that in the Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Melakhim, ch. 11, when the Rambam speaks about the Messiah, he also does not mention anything about the Messiah being a prophet. In fact, in Hilkhot Melakhim 11:3 he tells us that R. Akiva thought that Bar Kokhba was the Messiah. Since Bar Kokhba was not a prophet, this is a proof that the Messiah does not need to be a prophet. Another relevant point is that in Hilkhot Melakhim 12:3 the Rambam speaks of the Messiah as having ruah ha-kodesh, which is a lower level than prophecy. Thus, it appears clear that according to Hilkhot Melakhim the Messiah will not be a prophet, or at least does not need to be a prophet.[13]

How to explain the fact that in Hilkhot Teshuvah the Rambam says that the Messiah will be a great prophet, while in Hilkhot Melakhim he does not mention this at all, and he refers to Bar Kokhba, thus showing that the Messiah does not need to be a prophet? R. Joseph Kafih states that the Rambam changed his mind on this matter. When writing his Letter to Yemen and Hilkhot Teshuvah the Rambam thought that the Messiah needed to be a prophet, however, his later position is reflected in Hilkhot Melakhim.[14] R. Kafih makes this claim even though there is no evidence that the Rambam ever altered what he wrote in Hilkhot Teshuvah. My point in mentioning this is not to claim that R. Kafih is correct in his assumption, only to show, in opposition to Grossman, that great commentators have indeed been prepared to state that the Rambam changed his mind, even if we have no evidence that he later corrected his earlier works.[15]

Regarding prophecy, R. Shlomo Aviner cites R. Kook that Adam was a greater prophet than Moses. I found this formulation noteworthy, as it contradicts Maimonides’ principle that Moses was the greatest prophet. In response to my question, R. Aviner replied to me that Adam is not to be included in regular history, and was thus not the among the prophets Maimonides was referring to.[16]

אדם הראשון הוא מחוץ לחשבון ההסטורי הרגיל ולפניו, ושורש כל בני האדם

R. Aviner cited as his source Orot ha-Kodesh, vol. 1, p. 280, which refers toזיהרא עילאה דאדה”ר. In fact, I found a more apt source in Shemonah Kevatzim3:66, where R. Kook puts the matter very clearly:

זיהרא עילאה דאדם הראשון היא כוללת מדה עליונה זו העולה עד למעלה מהאספקלריא המאירה של נבואת משה רבנו

The concept of Adam’s זיהרא עילאה is found throughout kabbalistic literature (which also states that Enoch would later receive this זיהרא עליאה). I had never understood it as also including prophecy, as opposed to simply greatness, but after investigating the matter I do not think that R. Kook is saying anything out of the ordinary by excluding Adam from the Rambam’s Principle. I think that this is also the sense you get from R. Hayyim of Volozhin when he discusses Adam.[17] In Nefesh ha-Hayyim 1:20, he also stresses the greatness of the Messiah, and he cites a rabbinic text that the Messiah will surpass Abraham, Moses, and Adam.[18] R. Hayyim adds that he will only surpass Adam after the Sin, but not before.

Regarding Adam before the Sin, R. Solomon Elyashiv writes:[19]

השגת אדה”ר קודם החטא שהשיג אז את כל האצילות הנה היה במדרגת האצילות של אז שהיה גבוה ונעלה מאד . . . כי מציאת אדה”ר שקודם הטא היה למעלה לגמרי מכל חק סוג אנושי אשר מאחר החטא ולהלאה

R. Isaiah Horowitz discusses Adam from a kabbalistic perspective on a few occasions. In Shenei Luhot ha-Berit[20], sectionToldot Adam: Beit Yisrael (p. 9a in the first printing, Amsterdam 1749; no. 104 in the newer printings), he writes:

והנה אדם עולה במספר קטן ט’ כי אדם לא בא בסוד יחידה מצד כתר המעלה העליונה עשירית, וזהו “אדם אחד מאלף לא מצאתי” א”ל [אל תקרי] אֶלֶף בסגול אלא אַלף שהיה חסר

This is exactly how the text appears in the first printing including the vowels. R. Horowitz cites Ecclesiastes 7:28, however the verse actually states: אדם אחד מאלף מצאתי. Only later in the verse does it say: ואשה מכל אלה לא מצאתי. It seems clear that this is simply a mistake and that R. Horowitz was citing from memory.[21] We find the same verse misquoted later in the Shelah, where the derash seems to be clearly based on the mistake:[22]

חותמו של הקב”ה אמת רומז על אה”יה אשר אהיה כי אהיה פעמי’ אה”יה עולה כמנין אמת. אדם הוא מעשר אמת כי ד”ם מעשר מ”ת ומהאלף לא שייך מעשר וזה רמז אדם אחד מאלף לא מצאתי כלומר אחד מאלף לא נמצא מעשר

This is all quite strange as using Otzar ha-Chochma I found two other places in the Shelah where the verse is cited correctly.[23]

Regarding Moses’ prophetic level, in Limits, p. 89, I cited authorities who understand Midrash Tanhuma’s statement that the Messiah will be “more exalted than Moses” to mean that he would be a greater prophet than Moses. Subsequent to the book’s publication, I found that the Lubavitcher Rebbe also leaves this as a possibility,[24] for in his Sefer Sihot: 5751, vol. 2, p. 789, he writes:

ובתנחומא (ס”פ תולדות) משמע שהוא נביא גדול ממשה – ראה לקו”ש ח”ו עמ’ 254 – ועצ”ע

Here is one additional point which is I think of interest. Although Judah David Eisenstein was not a religious authority, he was an Orthodox Jew and his works became quite popular in Orthodox homes.[25] It is noteworthy, therefore, that in his Otzar Dinim u-Minhagim, p. 325, he writes as follows, completely rejecting the Rambam’s system of dogma:

ואיך יעלה על הדעת לומר כי היהודי שאינו מאמין בלבו באיזה מן הי”ג עקרים חוץ מאמונת ה’ לבדו כי הוא יוצא מכלל ישראל. בפרט כי דת ישראל לא נוסדה על מחשבות ורעיונות רק על המעשה, מצות עשה ומצות לא תעשה, והיהודי המקיים כל המצוות הוא בודאי יהודי כשר אע”פ שאינו מאמין בלבו ברוב העקרים שמנה הרמב”ם

He then suggests that the Rambam retracted his understanding of ikkarim.

ונראה כי גם הרמב”ם חזר מעקריו אלה שכתב בערבית לפירוש המשניות, כי בספרו היד החזקה שכתב בעברית להלכה למשה [למעשה] הורה בגר שבא להתגייר, מודיעין אותו עקרי הדת שהוא ייחוד השם ואיסור ע”ז, ומאריכין בדבר הזה, ומודיעין אותו מקצת מצות קלות ומקצת מצות חמורות ואין מאריכין בדבר זה

Notice how Eisenstein requires belief in God, without which one is not part of Israel. But this takes us back to the question of what actually is belief in God. For the Rambam, someone who believes in a corporeal God is not really believing in God at all, and is thus a heretic, while Rabad disagrees. In Limits and in subsequent writings I have cited a number of authorities who agree with Rabad, which shows that the Rambam’s’ approach in this matter was not universally accepted. While it is true that Rabad and the others I cite believe that God is incorporeal, they do not accept that one who errs in this matter is to be regarded as a heretic, which is a major break with the Rambam as it means that denial of one of the Principles does not equal heresy.[26]

Here is another source that we can add to the list. The Hasidic master R. Meir Horowitz of Zhikov states that one who has a defect in his belief in God – which I assume can also include believing in God’s corporeality – but is part of a Hasidic community and accepts a rebbe, is not to be regarded as wicked. This is because by being devoted to the rebbe he will eventually be brought to a proper belief in God. What he is saying, if I am interpreting him correctly, is that you can have members of the Orthodox community whose beliefs might be incorrect, even heretical, but they should not be regarded as wicked because their very belonging to the community and acceptance of its rabbinic leadership is itself significant. I don’t know how many would agree with R. Meir, but what he says is quite fascinating.[27]

וכמו כן יש בנמצא בני אדם אשר יש להם חסרון באמונת הבורא כביכול, ועם כל זה יש להם אמונת צדיקים, ומקבלים עול הצדיק על עצמם . . . וגם אנשים כאלו אינם בכלל רשעים, יען כי על ידי אמונת צדיקים בודאי יבוא אחר כך לאמונת הבורא, כי על ידי התקשרות לצדיק במשך הזמן יזכה גם לאמונה גמורה. וכמו שפירשו בספרים הלואי אותי עזבו ואת תורתי שמרו היינו לשמור מה שהתורה מרבה בתיבת את ד’ א-להיך לרבות תלמידי חכמים

Finally, let me call attention to another unconventional view of R. Michael Abraham. R. Abraham states that since it impossible to force people to believe, the Thirteen Principles of Faith of the Rambam must be understood as only a suggestion which people are free to reject, not an obligation, as only behavior can be legislated, but not thought.[28]

באופן מהותי אי אפשר לצוות על אנשים להאמין דווקא בדבר מסוים. אתה יכול לצוות על אנשים שיתנהגו באופן מסוים, אבל אי אפשר להכתיב להם מה לחשוב, וגם איך תדע שהם חושבים אחרת מכפי שצוו. אז גם 13 עיקרי האמונה של הרמב”ם הם לא הלכה, אלא הצעה של הרמב”ם, ובהחלט אפשר גם לחשוב אחרת.

* * * * * * * *

[1] Regarding Grossman’s review, it is apt to cite the words of R. Yissachar Tamar, Alei Tamar, Shabbat, p. 6 (referred to by R. Neriah Guttel, Or Yekarot [Elkana, 2016], p. 290):

ומכאן אזהרה חמורה למבקרי ספרים שיעיינו הדק היטב עד שחורצים משפטם על ערך הספר וחשיבותו

In a future post I hope to also discuss another critique of my book, that of Seth Kadish. While I have argued that the Thirteen Principles reflect a conservative approach sometimes at odds with Maimonides’ other works, Kadish, in his very interesting and significant article, offers an alternative, I would even say revisionist, perspective. Here is some of what appears in the summary at the beginning of the article.

Such an attitude assumes that Maimonides’ famous list of the “thirteen foundations of the Torah” reflects a conservative stance (regardless of his wider agenda). This paper argues, to the contrary, that his dogma is best read in context as a natural reflection of radical formulations found in his pre-Guide rabbinic writings. It further argues that the great Iberian critics of Maimonidean dogma understood it in exactly this way and rejected it as such, offering meaningful alternatives in its place. They designed their alternative systems to reflect their views about the nature and substance of the Torah, not just to address the semantics of dogma.

Seth (Avi) Kadish, “Jewish Dogma after Maimonides: Semantics or Substance,” Hebrew Union College Annual 85 (2015), pp. 195-263.
[2] Ha-Moreh le-Dorot (Jerusalem, 1956), p. 92 (emphasis added).
[3] See R. Isaac Abarbanel, Rosh Amanah, ch. 19; Menachem Kellner, Dogma in Medieval Jewish Thought (Oxford, 1986) p. 228 n. 60; R. Dovid Yitzhaki’s essay in R. Jacob Emden, Luah Eresh (Toronto, 2001), p. 466. R. Yehezkel Sarne, Beit Yehezkel: Hiddushim u-Veurim be-Inyanim Shonim (Jerusalem, 1995), p. 242, has an interesting perspective:

.יסודי התורה אינו ענין לעיקרי התורה או עיקרי האמונה שהרי לא כלל הרמב”ם כאן כל העיקרים שאם אינו מאמין בהם נעשה כופר על ידן. אלא יסודי התורה היינו שהתורה עומדת עליהם ומי שאין לו היסודות גם תורה אין לו

Earlier in this note, I refer to R. Emden’s work לוח ארש. This is sometimes written as Luah Eres, yet this is a mistake. The second word is Eresh, as in the word ארשת (see Ps. 21:3) which has the connotation of “speech”. This is explained by R. Dovid Yitzhaki in his edition of Luah Eresh (referred to above), p. 3 n. 1 (second pagination).

In Shaharit of Yom Kippur, we recite the piyyut אדר יקר, the first line of which reads: אחוה בְּאֶרֶשׁ מלולי.

R. Aaron Samuel Katz’s commentary on Midrash Rabbah has the title Kore me-Rosh(Berdichev, 1811). It is divided into two sections, one of which is called ארש רבה. This is obviously a play on ארץ רבה (Ps. 110:6), and ארש also contains letters from the names אהרן שמואל.

Sephardic melitzah often uses the word ארש, such as in the expression ותשקוט הארש (sometimes written as האר’ש). Its meaning is that all speech or utterance should cease, that is, there is no need for any more discussion or argument about the issue. Another melitzah is באתי אל הארש (a play on Deut. 26:3), which means “this is what I have to say”.

There is also a melitzah ארש קדם (a play on Gen. 25:6) which means “words of introduction”.

Here is the beginning of R. David Pipano’s Avnei ha-Efod, vol. 1 (Sofia, 1913).

On pp. 24a and 171a R. Pipano uses another melitzah that I love, and which you can occasionally find in other Sephardic works: ובחפשון יצאתי (a play on Deut. 16:3). This means that he searched in rabbinic literature.

The title of R. Emden’s book, לוח ארש, is a play on לוח ארז that appears in Song of Songs 8:9. In the Bible, ארז is vocalized אׇרֶז as it comes at the end of a sentence. Does that mean that seforim with the title לוח ארז should also be vocalized Arez, and לוח ארש should be Aresh? The answer is no, because when we cite the title we are not quoting a biblical verse. Similarly, with R. Isser Zalman Meltzer’s book אבן האזל, just because in I Sam. 20:19 we read האבן הַאׇזֶל does not mean that when citing the name of the book, where it is not the end of a sentence, that we should write Even ha-Azel. Rather, the title is Even ha-Ezel. (The information in this paragraph has been confirmed with R. Dovid Yitzchaki.)
[4] Regarding R. Rosenthal, I think it is noteworthy that he held that at least in certain cases, such as with women who are unable to get married, it is permissible for single women to be artificially inseminated, and he ruled this way in practice. See R. Yehudah Berakhah, Birkat Yehudah, vol. 7, p. 267. R. Aharon Lichtenstein also held this position. See R. Shmuel David, “Teshuvot Ba’al Peh shel ha-Rav Aharon Lichtenstein,” Tzohar 40 (2016), p. 32:

?שאלה: רווקה מבוגרת, כבת 41, מבקשת היתר לקבל תרומת זרע מגוי כדי לזכות להיות אם, האם ניתן להתיר לה

תשובה: אנחנו איננו ששים למצב שילד יגדל בלא אב, אך אי אפשר לראות את דמעתה ולחשות, ולכן כיוון שאין כאן איסור, הרי שמותר לה לקבל תרומת זרע מגוי, ורופא יזריק אותו, כמו שעושים לזוג נשוי

I believe that this is now the accepted position in the Modern Orthodox world, for the simple reason that strictly speaking there is no halakhic prohibition. In the haredi world, rabbis often forbid things for communal reasons, even though there is no real halakhic prohibition. But these types of rulings do not carry as much weight in the Modern Orthodox community.

It is also of note that before the creation of the State of Israel, R. Rosenthal went on the Temple Mount, as there was a tradition where it is permissible to go. However, he agreed that in contemporary times this should not be allowed. See the interview with his student, R. Shlomo Amar, here.
[5] Ha-Emunah ve-Yud Gimmel Ikareha (Jerusalem, 2005), pp. 84, 103-104.
[6]Amudei Kesef u-Maskiyot Kesef (Frankfurt, 1848), p. 113. See also ibid., p. 101:

למה לא מנה זה הדעת בהלכות יסודי התורה עם הייחוס בא-ל

[7] See R. Shimshon Dovid Pincus, Nefesh Shimsohn: Be-Inyanei Emunah (Jerusalem, 2005), p. 99:

הרמב”ם היה הראשון שמנה את י”ג העיקרים . . . מה הרמב”ם חיפש כשהוא יסד את אותם “עיקרים”, ובכלל מה הם “עיקרים”? . . . הרמב”ם פסק את י”ג העיקרים להלכה, וכנראה שקבלנו את שיטתו

[8] Hemdat Yisrael (Petrokov, 1927), vol. 1, p. 14a (final numbering; in Limits I referred to this as p. 14b, as it is found on the second column). Interestingly, on the very next page, p. 14b, R. Plotzki writes:

בשיעור שלמדתי בישיבת ר’ יצחק אלחנן ז”ל בפה ניויארק יום ב’ ט”ז תמוז באספת כל גדולי מורי הישיבה והרבה מגדולי הרבנים בנויארק

This shiur at Yeshivat R. Yitzchak Elchonon took place in 1926, during a fundraising visit to the United States.
[9] Va-Yavinu be-Mikra: Va-Yikra, p. 175 (emphasis added).
[10] Regarding R. Feivelson, see the recent news report here about how two young men from the extremist Peleg group took out a knife and threatened R. Feivelson that he stop giving shiurim or else suffer the consequences. In a future post, I hope to discuss why there has been strong opposition in some quarters to R. Feivelson’s approach.
[11] “Yemot ha-Mashiah be-Mishnato shel ha-Rambam,” Sinai 41 (1957), p. 17.
[12] Iggerot ha-Rambam, ed. Shilat, vol. 1, p. 106 (Arabic), pp. 154-155 (Hebrew). This is in line with the Rambam’s Seventh Principle which states that other prophets cannot reach Moses’ level of prophecy. In Limits, ch. 6, I discuss those who disagreed with this principle. I subsequently found what seems to be another example of disagreement with the Rambam in this matter. In speaking of the prophets in the Messianic era, R. David Kimhi, commentary to Joel 3:1, writes:

וכן יהיו בהם [הנביאים] מעלות זה למעלה מזה כמו שהיו בנביאים שעברו עד שאולי יקים בהם כמשה רבינו ע“ה

In his final words he offers the possibility that future prophets will be as great as Moses.
[13] R. Hananel Sari writes as follows with reference to Maimonides’ description of the Messiah in Hilkhot Melakhim:

כאן המלך המשיח נמדד רק במידת הצלחתו להקים מחדש את הממלכה לפי חוקי התורה. כלומר, מבחן התוצאה בעניין זה בלבד, ואינו צריך להיות נביא, ובוודאי שאינו צריך להיות נביא גדול!

“Tekufatenu vi-Yemot ha-Mashiah be-Mishnat ha-Rav Kafih,” Masorah le-Yosef 7 (2012), p. 97.
[14] Commentary to Hilkhot Teshuvah, p. 650 n. 21. See also R. Kafih’s note to his edition of Iggerot ha-Rambam, p. 50 n. 26.
[15] Regarding Maimonides not correcting the Mishneh Torah to bring all of the halakhot in line, see my Studies in Maimonides and His Interpreters, pp. 6, 68 n. 275.
[16] See my Iggerot Malkhei Rabbanan, no. 120. Copies of this work are available here.
[17] Nefesh ha-Hayyim 2:17, 4:28.
[18] The rabbinic text R. Hayyim refers to is a Midrash, but he was apparently citing from memory, as the Midrash does not mention anything about Adam but instead mentions Abraham, Moses, and the angels. This Midrash is usually quoted from Midrash Tanhuma, ed. Buber, vol. 1, p. 70a, but this edition was not yet published in R. Hayyim’s lifetime, so he would have known the Midrash from Yalkut Shimoni, Zechariah, no. 571.
[19] Leshem Shevo ve-Ahlamah: Sefer ha-Deah (Petrokov, 1912), vol. 1, p. 85b. Following this passage, on the same page, R. Elyashiv says something noteworthy (and difficult to accept). He cites the following from Shemot Rabbah 41:6:

Another explanation of And He gave unto Moses (Ex. 31:18). R. Abbahu said: All the forty days that Moses was on high, he kept on forgetting the Torah he learned. He then said: “Lord of the Universe, I have spent forty days, yet I know nothing,” What did God do? At the end of the forty days, He gave him the Torah as a gift, for it says, And He gave unto Moses. Could then Moses have learned the whole Torah? Of the Torah it says: The measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea (Job 9:9): could then Moses have learned it all in forty days? No, but it was the principles (kelalim) thereof which God taught Moses.

R. Elyashiv believes that the entire text just cited was stated by R. Abbahu, but it appears to me that the words beginning “Could then Moses have learned” were not said by R. Abbahu. Be that as it may, R. Elyashiv has a difficulty with the midrashic statement, which he attributes to R. Abbahu, that Moses was only taught the principles of the Torah, as this contradicts other aggadic statements that Moses was taught all the details as well. He therefore concludes that R. Abbahu did not really believe what he said, but his statement was only directed towards the heretics, whom he would sometimes dispute (see Avodah Zarah4a).

I find this quite difficult, since if his statement was directed towards the heretics, why does it appear in the Midrash without any such indication. This is quite apart from what many will regard as a more fundamental difficulty, namely, the assertion that a sage’s words in a classic rabbinic text are to be understood as a false statement designed to merely “shut up” the heretics. Here is what R. Elyashiv writes:

אך העיקר נראה לי כי ר’ אבהו לא אמר זה אלא כנגד המינין כי הוא היה רגיל להתווכח עם המינין. וכמ”ש בעבו”ז דף ד’ ע”א. וכדי שלא ליתן פתחון פה למינים להעיז נגד קבלת חז”ל אמר כמה דברים גם מה שהוא נגד דעתו, ע”ד שאמרו חולין כ”ז ב’ לאויבי דחיתי בקש. וע”ד ששינוי [!] הע”ב זקנים כמה דברים בתורה בהעתקתם לתלמי המלך כמ”ש במגילה ט’ ע”א . . . וכן הוא בענינינו כי מה שאמר ר’ אבהו בשמו”ר פ’ מ”א סי’ ו’ הנז’ שלא למדה משה רק כללים לא אמר זה אלא כנגד המינים וכדי לסכור את פיהם אבל הוא עצמו ודאי סובר ככל המאמרים הנז’ שלמד הקב”ה למשה כל דקדוקי תורה ודקדוקי סופרים

In Changing the Immutable, ch. 8, I discuss some who make the same claim as R. Elyashiv regarding other texts. Recently, I found that R. Judah Leib Landesberg also makes this point. In his Hikrei Lev (Satmar, 1905), vol. 1, p. 57, he discusses R. Judah’s statement in Sanhedrin 92b that Ezekiel’s vision of the Dry Bones coming to life was not something that happened in reality, but was only a parable (mashal). R. Landesberg cannot accept that R. Judah really meant this. He assumes that the point of his statement was polemical, and directed against the early Christians who spoke about the resurrection of Jesus and were strengthened in their false belief by the story of the resurrection of the Dry Bones.

מפני הוראת שעה ופריצת הדור החדש אשר על יסוד זה חפץ לבנות בנין שקר וכזב, מותר לומר שכל התחיה בימי יחזקאל היה “רק משל”, למען לא תתגבר ותתחזק האמונה הבדויה, שחנוך והתלוי קמו חיים ועלו השמים

On p. 66, he adopts the same approach regarding R. Hillel’s statement in Sanhedrin 99a: “There shall be no Messiah for Israel, because they have already enjoyed him in the days of Hezekiah.” As R. Landesberg sees it, R. Hillel did not believe what he said, but his statement was directed against those Jews who were being influenced by the followers of Jesus who claimed that the Messiah had arrived. R. Hillel was telling these people that Jesus could not be the Messiah, as there will be no Messiah since the prophecies were already fulfilled in the days of Hezekiah. According to R. Landesberg, R. Hillel’s false statement was justified as a “hora’at sha’ah”, an emergency measure to save Jewish souls from going astray. He also identifies R. Hillel with the Nasi Hillel II, and suggests that the Roman government required him to make the statement that there would be no Messiah.

ולא לבד העכו”ם גם רבים מהיהודים מתנצרים וטענותם והתנצלותם הי’ “כי משיח כבר בא” ע”כ היה הנשיא הילל מוכרח במעשה מטעם הממשלה, ומפני “הוראת שעה” לפרסם בישראל שלא יאמינו ברע ולא יבטחו בו ובשלוחיו, וחלילה להאמין כי הוא המשיח המקוה לישראל ע”כ גזר ואמר “אין משיח לישראל”! ונבואת ישעי’ כבר נתמלאה בימי חזקיה

[20] See R. Herschel Schachter, Divrei ha-Rav, p. 184, in the name of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, that the practice developed of calling this work the Shelah ha-Kadosh rather than its actual title, Shenei Luhot ha-Berit, because people thought that Shenei Luhot ha-Berit as a title was a bit “over the top”.
[21] See Eliezer Zweifel in Ha-Karmel, March 13, 1866, p. 249.
[22] P. 178b in the first printing. In more recent printings see section Masekhet Pesahim, no. 524.
[23] First printing, p. 348b, in more recent printings see section Bamidbar, no. 27; first printing, p. 409b, in more recent printings see section Torah she-Be’al Peh, no. 384.
[24] See the discussion of the Rebbe’s words by Aharon Meir Felder in Tamim be-Hukekha (Brooklyn, 2008), pp. 26ff.
[25] Regarding Eisenstein, see Robert L. Samuels, “The Life and Work of Judah David Eisenstein as Reflected Primarily in His Memoirs” (unpublished masters dissertation, Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, 1960), available here.

R. Binyamin Lau, Mi-Maran ad Maran (Tel Aviv, 2005), pp. 137ff., discusses R. Ovadiah Yosef’s attitude towards Eisenstein’s Hebrew encyclopedia, Otzar Yisrael. He first notes that in a responsum about the permissibility of using the secular calendar, R. Ovadiah cites Otzar Yisraelas a source that the secular year is not to be traced to Jesus’ birth, since he was actually born before the beginning of the Common Era. See Yabia Omer, vol. 3, Yoreh Deah, no. 9. R. Lau notes that R. Ovadiah is not consistent in how he relates to this encyclopedia. In R. Ovadiah’s responsum dealing with the halakhic status of the Ethiopian Jews, he refers to R. Eliezer Waldenberg’s reliance on Otzar Yisrael to demonstrate that they are not descended from Jews, and harshly attacks R. Waldenberg for relying on this work “which contains some matters of heresy.” Yabia Omer, vol. 8, Even ha-Ezer, no. 11:3.

R. Lau is content to note the inconsistency without probing further if perhaps this can be explained as R. Ovadiah delegitimizingOtzar Yisraelbecause it stood in opposition to his halakhic conclusion that the Ethiopians are Jewish. It appears likely that the delegitimization was ad hoc polemical rather than substantive, and thus able to be used when R. Ovadiah felt warranted. For another negative comment about Otzar Yisrael, see Yalkut Yosef, Orah Hayyim 131, p. 415.

In 1993, R. Hayyim Kanievsky’s notes to Eisenstein’s Otzar Midrashim were published. I received a copy of the pamphlet from David Farkas, who informs me that it was included with the recent reprint of Otzar Midrashim, obviously in order to make the book more “kosher”. It is interesting to examine what R. Kanievsky states should be deleted from Otzar Midrashim, as it is not merely references to academic scholars but also phrases that most will see as quite innocuous. Even Eisenstein’s comment that some scholars regard Eldad ha-Dani as a charlatan is to be deleted (R. Kanievsky’s note to p. 19), perhaps because this would reflect poorly on the rabbis who were taken in by him. (Shimon Steinmetz suggests that the reason is actually the reverse, that including this information would reflect poorly on those who were skeptical of Eldad.)

R. Kanievsky also says to delete any references to non-Jewish influence on these so-called Midrashim. To give one example, Eisenstein, p. 251, writes as follows about the medieval Midrash known as Sefer ha-Yashar:

.כנראה נתחבר ספר הישר במאה התשיעית או העשירית בזמן הגאונים. המקורים שמהם שאב המחבר הם מדרשות חז”ל ספר יוסיפון, והגדות הערביים

R. Kanievsky says to delete the words והגדות הערביים. I don’t understand why R. Kanievsky feels this way. I could just as easily imagine a great Torah scholar going through Eisenstein’s book and showing the problems with many of these Midrashim, precisely because of the questionable material in them, which would explain why they were never “accepted”. Even with regard to Sefer Zerubavel (Otzar Midrashim, pp. 158ff.), which is a seventh-century apocalypse that has no religious authority in traditional Judaism and is full of strange passages, R. Kanievsky objects to Eisenstein’s historical comments. Again, I don’t see why R. Kanievsky sees this as a religious imperative when dealing with such a work as Sefer Zerubavel, and am frankly surprised that he did not recommend deleting this entire “Midrash,” as he did with other “Midrashim” included by Eisenstein that he did not regard as authentic (see his notes to pp. 371, 372, and see also his notes to pp. 35, 400, where he expresses doubt that these “Midrashim” are from the Sages). Regarding Sefer Zerubavel, see David Berger, Cultures in Collision and Conversation(Boston, 2011), pp. 268ff.

Also of interest is the following passage from Otzar Midrashim, p. 583, about Midrash Tanhuma. I have underlined the word that R. Kanievsky said to remove:

.אמנם הוא [ר’ תנחומא] לא מחבר המדרש הזה ולא מסדרו, רק הבאים אחריו קבצו רוב דרשותיו וספחו אליהם דרשות מבעלי אגדה זולתו, וקראוהו על שמו מפני שהיה דרשן מצוין בזמנו

I do not know why R. Kanievsky was bothered by Eisenstein declaring that R. Tanhuma was a great darshan. Is it because this might imply that other sages were not such great darshanim? But how is this any different than saying, for example, that R. Akiva was a great Torah scholar, a statement that no one would object to?

Finally, R. Kanievsky (notes to p. 214) appears to be defending the so-called letter of R. Yohanan Ben Zakai. This is an obvious forgery, and according to Moshe Hillel was written in Poland in the eighteenth century. See Hillel, Megilot Cochin (Jerusalem, 2018), pp. 259ff. See also pp. 190ff., where Hillel discusses other scholars’ views about the matter
[26] Regarding the Rambam and Rabad, there is a very strange passage in R. Isaac of Komarno, Shulhan ha-Tahor, 167:3. I shudder to think what a Lithuanian rosh yeshiva would say if you mentioned to him the explanation offered for Rabad’s words.

אבל המצוה שיהיה מלח על השולחן ובפרט מי שהוא משורש קין יזהר מאד, מרן האר”י, ובזה תבין דברי הרמב”ם [הל’ חמץ ומצה ח, לח] שפסק לאכול מצה בחרוסת, הוא הטעם כיון שיש לפניו דבר שהוא משובח מן המלח מחוייב לאכול פרוסת הבציעה בדבר שמשובח כיון שעומד לפניו הכרח שיטבול בו את הבציעה המצה כי חרוסת שלהם הי’ מפירות יקרים הרבה מוטעם ביותר וכתב עליו הראב”ד זה הבל ותמהו עליו למה לו לההביל את הדבר שהוא מוזכר אצל הגאונים הראשונים עיין שם, אבל באמת כוונת רבינו רוח הקודש שלו הי’ זה הבל מי ששורשו הבל א”צ למלח ודי בלפתן אבל מי שהוא משורש קין בהכרח שיטבל במלח ולא בחרוסת והוא ענין נפלא

R. Nahum Abraham writes that it is forbidden to print this explanation, as it is so bizarre. See Darkhei ha-Ma’amarim, p. 13 (first pagination).
[27] Imrei Noam (Brooklyn, 2003), vol. 1, p. 225 (to Ex. 4:8-9). See Mendel Piekarz, Ha-Hanhagah ha-Hasidit (Jerusalem, 1999), p. 37.
[28] See here.

Pets on Shabbat, Rabbi Morenu, and Epidemics

Marc B. Shapiro

1. In my last post here I wrote as follows:

R. Yitzhak Nahman Eshkoli calls attention to what he sees as another mistake made by those who published R. Moshe Feinstein’s works.[1] Here is Iggerot Moshe,Orah Hayyim 5, 22:21.

According to the text of R. Moshe’s responsum, animals are muktzeh, even those that children play with. This means that R. Moshe held that pets are also muktzeh. Yet in the small print the editor added that pets are permitted, even though this completely contradicts the first part of the sentence. See also Iggerot Moshe, Orah Hayyim 4, no. 16 (end), where R. Moshe forbids moving a fish tank on Shabbat and Yom Tov: דבע”ח מוקצין.

If you search online you will find a number of people who deal with R. Moshe’s view of pets on Shabbat. R. Chaim Jachter, referring only to Iggerot Moshe, Orah Hayyim 4, no. 16, states that R. Moshe held that pets are muktzeh. See here. Rabbi Dov Lev writes:

See Orach Chaim 308:39 that all animals are considered muktzeh. However, see Shu”t Igros Moshe (Orach Chaim 5:22:21) that rules that designated pets are exceptional and are not muktzeh. On the other hand, Rabbi Y. P. Bodner writes (Halachos of Muktzeh, Feldheim, p. 118) that he heard from Rabbi Feinstein that pets are indeed muktzeh. This is supported by Rabbi Feinstein’s responsum (#24) at the end of the book as well as by Shu”t Igros Moshe (Orach Chaim 4:16).

There are two interesting things here. The first is that R. Lev cites the most recent responsum in Iggerot Moshe that pets are not muktzeh without taking note of what many have seen as a contradiction between what R. Moshe wrote and the small print added by the editors. Also of significance is that R. Pinchas Bodner, who wrote a book on muktzeh and consulted with R. Moshe, claims that R. Moshe told him that pets are muktzeh. See also R. Natan Slifkin, Man and Beast: Our Relationships with Animals in Jewish Law and Thought, p. 237 n. 1.

R. Yonason Rosman, Petihat ha-Iggerot, p. 314, quotes R. Moshe Kaufman, a son-in-law of R. Mordechai Tendler, that after R Moshe gave his stringent answer to R. Bodner, he then reconsidered and came to a lenient opinion. R. Kaufman adds that  R. Moshe permitted his son-in-law, R. Moshe Tendler, to handle his cat on Shabbat.

R. Doniel Yehuda Neustadt, The Daily Halacha Discussion, p. 115, n. 108, writes that “there are conflicting sources regarding Harav M. Feinstein’s opinion on this subject.”

R. Anthony Manning writes:

In the 8th volume of Iggrot Moshe (published posthumously) (O.C. 5:22:21) Rav Moshe again rules that animals are muktza. However Rav Moshe’s grandson, R. Mordechai Tendler, adds afterwards – (אלא א”כ הם מיוחדים לשעשועים (פעטס. It is not clear if Rav Moshe agreed with this addition. Rabbi Pinchas Bodner writes (Halachos of Muktza p. 119 footnote 6) that he heard directly from Rav Moshe that pets are muktza.

R. Zvi Ryzman was also troubled by the apparent contradiction inIggerot Moshe,Orah Hayyim 5, 22:21. He wrote to R. Shabbetai Rapoport, as it was R. Rapoport and R. Mordechai Tendler who were the editors of this posthumous Iggerot Moshe volume and the ones responsible for the small print. Ryzman published his correspondence with R. Rapoport in Moriah 36 (Nisan 5778), pp. 358-359.[2]

 

I think that for most people R. Rapoport’s letter will settle the matter that R. Moshe did not regard pets as muktzeh. It would thus be permissible to handle your own cat that lives in your home, but not to do so with a stray cat or with an animal on a farm, as they are not pets. While we must be grateful to R. Rapoport for explaining matters, there is no question that this should have been properly explained in Iggerot Moshe, as the poor editing job there has created an enormous amount of confusion.[3]

Ryzman provides a number of sources in traditional texts that express a negative view of having dogs as pets. Chronologically, the first on his list is R. Jacob Emden in She’elat Ya’avetz, vol. 1, no. 17.[4] It is worth noting that R. Emden also discusses this matter in Birat Migdal Oz (Warsaw, 1912), p. 127a (5:16):

.ולגדל לשחוק בהן אית ביה איסור מוסיף אחד אנשים ואחד נשים ביחוד אותן המשתעשעים ומגעגעים בכלבים חלקים מעשה עכו”ם הוא ר”ל

R. Emden had another issue with dogs, in that he tells us that one of the leading members of the Ashkenazic community of Amsterdam named his dog after R. Emden’s father, as a way of showing how he despised him. This matter greatly upset R. Emden, and all he can write is:[5]

‘שהיה מגדל כלב וקורא לו שם כו
‘הוא גידל כלב וקרא שמו כו

We thus don’t know what exactly he called the dog. Azriel Shohet writes that he called it “Hakham Zvi,”[6] but that is not in the text, and he could have just as easily called the dog simply “Zvi” or some other form of the name.

Regarding dogs, the Shulhan Arukh, Even ha-Ezer 22:18, states:

אלמנה אסורה לגדל כלב מפני החשד

“A widow is forbidden to raise a dog, because of suspicion [people will suspect her of bestiality].”

As far as I can tell, there is agreement among the aharonim that this law also applies to a divorced woman, but there is no consensus about a single woman. There also seems to be agreement that there is no problem with a female dog.

Despite the fact that this halakhah is found in the Shulhan Arukh, there is no question that it is ignored in the Modern Orthodox world, either because people don’t know about it or because they find it far-fetched or even offensive. The Taz, Even ha-Ezer 22:10, brings a limud zekhut for ignoring this law from Tosafot, Bava Metzia 71a, s.v. lo, who understood the matter as being in the realm of humra, but that there is no actual prohibition as Jews are not suspected of bestiality:

לא תרבי כלבא: משום לזות שפתים בעלמא לפי שהולך אחריה שלא נחשדו ישראל על הזכור ועל הבהמה וגם אין אסור להתייחד

(The Taz’s words should be examined in the Machon Yerushalayim or Rosh Pinah editions which are corrected based on manuscripts.)

R. Isaac Lampronte (1679-1756) testifies that in eighteenth-century Italy theShulhan Arukh‘s ruling was ignored and the rabbis did not protest.[7]

אלמנה לא תגדל כלב בתוך ביתה . . . והאידנא לא ראיתי מוחים באלמנה מלגדל כלב אולי דעתה לא נחשדו ישראל על כך

In general, dogs don’t come out looking too well in rabbinic literature, something which must be distressing for all of us dog lovers. In a future post I will give examples of what I am talking about. However, there are a few positive things said about dogs as well. For example, Yalkut Shimoni, Shemot ch. 11 (no. 187), tells us that the dogs were rewarded for not whetting their tongues against the Israelites (Ex. 11:7):

שזכו לעבד עורות מצואתן לכתוב בהן ספר תורה תפילין ומזוזות

In this same section of Yalkut Shimoni there is the following passage about dogs, but I don’t think you can regard it as saying anything positive about them:

כת’ לכלב תשליכון אותו (שמות כב, ל) ללמדך שהכלב מכובד מן הגוי שהרי טריפה לכלב ונבילה לגוי

Let me make one final point about dogs. In Louis Jacob’s autobiography, Helping With Inquiries, pp. 54-55, he writes:

Before leaving my account of the Gateshead Kolel, I feel it would be incomplete unless I said something more about Rabbi Dessler, one of the most remarkable men I have ever met. Until he became the spiritual guide of the Ponievezh Yeshivah in B’nai B’rak, near Tel Aviv, Rabbi Dessler was the moving spirit behind the Kolel and his wise counsel was sought by its members even when he had moved to Israel. He was physically small and had a full but neatly trimmed beard until he went to Ponievezh, when he allowed it to grow long. He had studied in his youth at the famed Musar School in Kelm, presided over by the foremost disciple of Reb Israel Salanter, R. Simhah Züssel. He married the daughter of Reb Nahum Zeev, son of Reb Simhah Züssel. Reb Nahum Zeev was also an outstanding Musar teacher. He earned his living as a merchant in Koenigsberg, where he dressed and conducted his life in Western style. His wife and daughters dressed in the latest fashion. He even had a dog. Rabbi Dessler told us of the occasion when a Polish rabbi, in Koenigsberg to consult a physician, was invited by Reb Nahum Zeev to be a guest in his home. Witnessing the Western style in which the home was conducted, the rabbi was careful to eat very little, suspecting that the food was not completely kosher. Late at night, the Polish rabbi was awakened from his sleep by the sound of bitter weeping from a nearby room. Thinking someone needed help, the rabbi went on tiptoe to the room from which the sobs were coming only to hear the “Westernised gentleman” sobbing his heart out as he chanted the verse from Ecclesiastes: “Vanity of vanity; all is vanity.” Needless to say, after this experience, the rabbi had no further qualms about eating at Reb Nahum Zeev’s table.[8]

I cite this passage because it reports that that R. Ziv had a dog, and this information must have come from R. Dessler.

R. Ziv was a very great man and there is a lot more that can be said about him. R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg reports that when he lived in Germany, not only did he dress in a modern fashion, but he also trimmed his beard and shook the hands of women. R. Yosef Yozel Horowitz of Novardok was very upset about these things and asked the young R. Weinberg, at this time serving as a rabbi in Pilwishki, to rebuke R. Ziv. R. Ziv told R. Weinberg, “What does he want from a Jew in Germany? I am just a simple Jew and I do not wish to cause ahillul ha-Shem. I behave like the other German Orthodox Jews.”[9] R. Weinberg added that all of R. Ziv’s actions were infused with Mussar ideals, and when he had a question, he traveled to the Hafetz Hayyim to consult with him.[10]

2. In my last post here I gave an example where the people who put together Mesorat Moshe from R. Mordechai Tendler’s notes did not understand what was being discussed. Here is another example from Mesorat Moshe, vol. 3, p. 343, no. 1.

It begins by saying that R. Moshe Feinstein receive a letter from רב מורינו. The editor explains that this refers to Jacob Rosenheim. When I read this I immediately knew it was a mistake. This volume of Mesorat Moshe covers Tevet 5735-Tevet 5736, and Rosenheim died ten years prior to this, in 1965.

Leaving this aside, the editors were led to think that the story concerned Rosenheim as he was given the honorary title “Morenu ha-Rav” by the Agudat Israel organization.[11] Yet even if he was alive at the time of the story, no one would have referred to him as “Rabbi Morenu.” In fact, he was not a rabbi even though subsequent to his death and continuing until now he is constantly given this title,[12] much like today every askan or writer associated with the Agudah is referred to as “Rabbi”. (R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg commented that for the Agudah every rabbi who joins them is treated like a great gaon,[13] to which we can add that every askan is treated like a rabbi. For the haredi critics of the Agudah, it is not only that the askanim are treated like rabbis, but that they are often treated like gedolim. A recurring theme in haredi criticism of the Agudah, since the beginning and continuing until today, is that many of the important decisions taken by Agudat Israel in the past century were made by the askanim without consultation with the Torah leaders who are supposed to be in charge.[14])

Although I knew that Mesorat Moshe could not be referring to Rosenheim, I had no idea who רב מורינו was, and assumed that there was some problem in the transcription. It never occurred to me that מורינו here was actually a name. I have to thank R. Mordechai Berger who pointed out to me that the letter is referring to R. Zev Moreno (Morejno in Polish), who served as rabbi in Lodz until 1973 when he came to New York. R. Moreno has a Wikipedia page devoted to him here.

Even after leaving Lodz, R. Moreno continued to be regarded as the chief rabbi not only of this city but of the entire country of Poland. R. Moshe Feinstein even ruled that in all matters dealing with religious life in Poland, such as appointing rabbis or shochetim, R. Morenu had to give his approval. See here and here. When R. Menahem Joskowitz arrived in Warsaw in 1989 and started functioning as the Chief Rabbi of Poland, this caused a big dispute with R. Morenu who travelled to Warsaw to confront the new rabbi. See here.

R. Morenu was clearly somewhat of a character, as only such a person would have written letters to President Ephraim Katzir, Prime Minister Menachem Begin, and Foreign Minister Moshe Dayan with the following “genius” suggestions, in which great rabbis are placed in the highest political offices as figureheads, while the politicians do all the real work: The president of the State of Israel should be the Satmar Rebbe, three vice presidents (a position that Israel does not even have) should be R. Moshe Feinstein, the Gerrer Rebbe, and the Lubavitcher Rebbe, who will serve together with Katzir. R. Zvi Yehudah Kook should be appointed prime minister, while the real work of the prime minister’s office should be conducted by Begin. The foreign minister should be R. Yosef Shalom Elyashiv while Dayan carries out the actual duties of the foreign ministry. You can read all about his political suggestionshere.

R. Berger also called my attention to another source relevant to my last post where I discussed R. Abraham Sofer. In 2018 Minhagei Yeshivat Torah va-Da’at (Torah Vodaath)[15] was published. On p. 23 n. 45, the following story about Sofer appears. Particularly interesting is the report that the Satmar Rebbe told the young man who refused to allow Sofer to get an Aliyah and publicly embarrassed him to ask Sofer for forgiveness.

פעם נכנס לישיבת ביהמ”ד עליון תלמיד חכם נכבד נכד החת”ס, אשר מחמת דוחק הפרנסה עבד במוסד של קאנסרבטיבים. כאשר כבדו הגבאי בעליה, קפץ אחד מתלמידי הישיבה ועלה במקומו לס”ת, והוכיח את החכם הנכבד האיך יכול הוא לעבוד אצל פוקרים בעוד שסבו נלחם במסי”נ נגד הניאולוגים, וביישו ברבים עד שההוא יצא מביהמ”ד מבוייש. כאשר סיפרו זאת להרב ראובן גרוזובסקי זצ”ל, אמר שהוא בבחינת הלכה ואין מורין כן, וכשסיפור זה הגיע לאזניו של האדמו”ר מסאטמאר זצ”ל הגיב שהבחור עשה כהוגן, אך משום כבודו של החת”ס שהוא זקנו של הלה .הורה לבקש ממנו מחילה.

3. Since so many have recently discussed rabbinic responses to epidemics, let me add the following. In years past there were two understandings of how diseases were spread. One is known as the Miasma Theory, and I can do no better than to quote the opening lines of the Wikipedia entry on the topic: “The miasma theory (also called the miasmatic theory) is an obsolete medical theory that held diseases—such as cholera, chlamydia, or the Black Death—were caused by a miasma (μίασμα, ancient Greek: ‘pollution’), a noxious form of ‘bad air’, also known as night air. The theory held that the origin of epidemics was due to a miasma, emanating from rotting organic matter.”

The other theory is Germ Theory, which in non-scientific language must be regarded as a fact. Germ theory explains the spread of disease as coming about through the spread of living organisms. Until the second half of the nineteenth century, both the Miasma Theory and Germ Theory (in earlier versions) found supporters in the scientific community.

In an article published in 1851,[16] Joseph Loewy claims that the amora Samuel accepted the Miasma Theory. He calls attention to Bava Metzia 107b: “And the Lord shall take away from thee all sickness (Deut. 7:15). . . . Samuel said: This refers to the wind. Samuel follows his views, for he said: All [illness] is caused by the wind.”

Loewy also cites Ta’anit 21b:

Once Samuel was informed that pestilence was raging amongst the inhabitants of Be Hozae, and he ordained a fast. The people said to him: surely [Be Hozae] is a long distance away from here. He replied: Would then a crossing prevent it from spreading?

4. In my last post I discussed letters from R. Hayyim Ozer Grodzinski and R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg to R. Isaac Unna that were sold by two auction houses. I mentioned how these letters came from the Unna archive at Bar Ilan University which had disappeared. A third auction house has also gotten into the act, and on June 30, 2020 the following letter from R. Grodzinksi to R. Unna is being auctioned. See here.

I refer to this letter in Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, p. 126 n. 69.

Obviously, the person who acquired the Unna archive has decided to unload it, and as mentioned in my last post, Bar-Ilan University could not care less that documents that it agreed to watch over are now being sold at public auctions. In the previous post I showed how the Bar-Ilan manuscript numbers are clearly visible on the letters that were sold. Take a look at the letter above from R. Hayyim Ozer to R. Unna. There is no manuscript number visible. Yet this is how the letter really looks (ignore my handwriting at the top of the page).

The manuscript number appears right above the name “Grodzienski,” but has been removed from the image used by the auction house (yet presumably is still found on the actual letter).

Excursus

The general practice is to transliterate יעבץ in שאילת יעבץ as Ya’avetz. Yet in I Chron. 4:9-10, the Bible mentions a righteous man named יעְבּץ, and his name is spelled with a sheva under the ע and a dagesh in the ב. When speaking of R. Jacob Emden, יעבץ stands for יעקב בן צבי. Yet in the introduction to שאילת יעבץ, R. Emden tells us that the title also alludes to the righteous man named יעבץ in I Chron. 4:9-10, as both of their births came with pain. On the title page of his responsa, in giving the publication date, R. Emden also cites I Chron. 4:10 with the name of יעבץ.

I assume, therefore, that R. Emden intended us to pronounce the word in the title as Ya’betz. This is also grammatically correct, as there is a sheva under the ע. Regarding the title, also note that the word is written as יעבץ and not יעב”ץ.

In the introduction to שאילת יעבץ, R. Emden mentions that the mother of Othniel ben Kenaz named him Ya’betz because of her painful childbirth. It is true, as Jacob J. Schacter points out, that there is nothing in Chronicles “to support Emden’s assertion that Yavez and Athniel were the same person.” See Schacter, “Rabbi Jacob Emden: Life and Major Works” (unpublished doctoral dissertation, Harvard University, 1988), p. 70 n. 18. However, when R. Emden writes

קראתי בשם ספרי זה שאילת יעבץ, נסמך הכתוב בד”ה שאמו של עתניאל בן קנז קראתו יעבץ לאמר כי ילדה בעוצב

he has in mind Temurah 16a: “A tanna taught: Othniel is the same as Ya’betz. . . . He was called Othniel because God answered him, and Ya’betz because he counselled and fostered Torah in Israel.”

In I Chron. 2:55 it mentions “the families of scribes that dwelt at יעבץ.” Does this city have anything to do with the person Ya’betz mentioned in I Chron. 4:9-10? We have no evidence, but Radak, I Chron. 2:55, suggests that perhaps Ya’betz built the city and it was named after him. Rashi, ibid., connects יעבץ with the city אבץ in Josh. 19:10.

There is another noteworthy point about the name יעבץ. We find the following in Derekh Eretz Zuta, ch. 1:

ט’ נכנסו בחייהם בג”ע ואלו הן חנוך בן ירד ואליהו ומשיח ואליעזר עבד אברהם וחירם מלך צור ועבד מלך הכושי ויעבץ בנו של רבי יהודה הנשיא ובתיה בת פרעה וסרח בת אשר ויש אומרים אף ר’ יהושע בן לוי

This is a list of those who entered Paradise during their lifetimes. A few of the names are not what we would expect and need to be explained. There is also a textual issue, as another version has R. Joshua ben Levi replacing Hiram of Tyre rather than being added. Why Hiram should be on the list in the first place is something I can take up on another occasion. For now, I just want to note that the son of R. Judah ha-Nasi (other versions read בן בנו) was also named Ya’betz, and that he is reported to have entered Paradise alive.

There is another version that lists Ya’betz separately from the son of R. Judah ha-Nasi. See R. Matityahu Strashun, Mivhar Ketavim, pp. 90-91. Alfa Beita de-Ben Sira (Warsaw, 1927), p. 23, has both עבדו של רבי יהודה and Ya’betz.

The Jerusalem Talmud, Hagigah 2:1, refers to an amora named Ya’betz. For a list of post-talmudic figures named יעבץ, see R. Zev Aharon Teller in Beit Va’ad le-Hakhamim (Tishrei 5769), p. 504 n. 88. See also Asher Weiser, “Ya’betz,” Sinai 78 (1975), pp. 6-8. Masoretic scholars know of Ya’betz ben Shlomo. See e.g., Shlomo Zalman Havlin, Masoret Torah she-Be’al Peh (Jerusalem, 2012), p. 611.

For others who referred to themselves as יעבץ, including Judah Leib Gordon, see Saul Chajes, Otzar Beduyei ha-Shem (Vienna, 1933), pp. 162-163.

A very important figure called יעבץ is R. Emden’s contemporary, R. Jacob Ibn Tzur (Abensur; 1673-1753) of Fez, author of the responsa work Mishpat u-Tzedakah be-Ya’akov. For generations, all Moroccan Jews knew R. Ibn Tzur, who was also a poet, yet he is pretty much unknown in the Ashkenazic world. Menachem Elon recalls how he learned about R. Ibn Tzur. He was doing research on a topic and יעבץ was mentioned, but he could see that it did not refer to R. Emden. He investigated the matter and learned that there was another great halakhic authority who also is known as יעבץ. He writes:

גאון מופלג זה, שיותר ויותר התודעתי לתורתו ולאישיותו, היה זמן ניכר בבחינת נעלם בעולם התורה והישיבות הגדולות שבפולין, ליטא ואשכנז, וכמעט לא היה ידוע בין החוקרים, ומאד חוששני שכך הוא הדבר, עד עיצומם של ימים אלה

See Elon, “Yihudah shel Halakhah ve-Hevrah be-Yahadut Tzafon Afrika mi-le-Ahar Gerush Sefarad ve-Ad Yamenu,” in Moshe Bar-Yuda, ed., Halakhah u-Fetihut: Hakhmei Morocco ke-Foskim le-Dorenu (Tel Aviv, 1985), p. 24.

After R. Emden, the most famous יעבץ is R. Joseph Jabez of Spain, author of Or ha-Hayyim among other works. His name is often written as Yavetz or even Yaavetz, but I don’t know how he himself pronounced the first three letters. The one thing I can say is that he did not pronounce the final letter of his name as “tz”, as that is an Ashkenazic (inauthentic) pronunciation which never would have been heard in Spain and won’t even be heard today among Sephardim who have had a traditional Sephardic upbringing. See R. Benzion Cohen, Sefat Emet (Jerusalem, 1997), pp. 114ff. This explains why, for instance, in Hebrew Barcelona is written as ברצלונה and Safed is written as צפת.

With regard to צפת, the modern pronunciation is Tzefat. However, R. Meir Mazuz notes that the correct pronunciation is indeed Safed (using “s” for צ and the accent on the first syllable), and this is in line with the Arabic pronunciation. See his introduction to R. Hayyim Joseph David Azulai, He’lem Davar (Bnei Brak, 2006), p. 27. See also R. Jacob Saphir, Even Sapir (Lyck, 1866), p. 1a. In previous generations, this is how the Sephardim in Eretz Yisrael would pronounce it. See R. Elijah Hazan, Ta’alumot Lev, vol. 3, no. 19 (p. 38b). In the page on Otzar HaChochma the vowels are not clear, but you can see them clearly here.

R. Ovadiah Bartenura, in a letter sent from Eretz Yisrael, refers to the city as ספיתה. It should be vocalized as סׇפֵיתׇה as this is how the locals pronounced it, non-Jews and Jews alike. See Avraham Yaari, Iggerot Eretz Yisrael(Ramat-Gan, n.d.), p. 151.

It is true that there is a city צְפֵת (Tzefat) mentioned in Judges 1:17, yet this is a city in the south and has nothing to do with the northern city of Safed we all know so well. צְפֵת is never again mentioned in the Bible, which is understandable as Judges 1:17 tells us that the city was destroyed and its name was changed to Hormah.

As for the original pronunciation of צפת, R. Mazuz does not note that R. Elazar Kalir indeed pronounced the name of the city as Tzefat. Look at the first two lines below, which come from Kalir’s kinah איכה ישבה חבצלת השרון (from the Goldschmidt edition of Kinot, p. 50).

As you can see, the final word צפת can only be read as צְפַת. It thus seems that the pronunciation as Safed only dates from the medieval period. See Encyclopaedia Judaica, s.v Safed: “Between the talmudic period and the Crusades the history of Safed is not known. The town reappears in 1140 under the name Saphet.”

* * * * * *

[1] Tza’ar Ba’alei Hayyim be-Halakhah ve-Aggadah, p. 514 n. 1171
[2] This was called to my attention by Yonatan Emett. R. Rapoport mistakenly refers to R. Shimon Eider as the recipient of R. Moshe’s responsum instead of R. Pinchas Bodner. He also refers to R. Eider as shlita, even though he passed away in 2007.
[3] From the various quotations, you can see that there are different ways people have transliterated the first word of R. Moshe’s responsa, אגרות. There is a dagesh in the gimel perhaps because of a nun that dropped off. Regarding the word, see R. Solomon Judah Rapoport, Toldot Rabbenu Natan Ish Romi (Warsaw, 1913), p. 24; R. Matityahu Strashun, Mivhar Ketavim (Jerusalem, 1969), p. 82 n. 9.
[4] See Excursus regarding the word יעבץ.
[5] Megilat Sefer, ed. Bombach (Jerusalem, 2012), pp. 41, 64.
[6] Im Hilufei Tekufot (Jerusalem, 1960), p. 104.
[7] Pahad Yitzhak, s.v. almanah.
[8] The same story, with slight variations, is found in Kitvei ha-Saba ve-Talmidav mi-Kelm, vol. 2, p. 649.
[9] That German Orthodox Jews shook hands with women is mentioned by R. Solomon Carlebach, who states that he also does so if the woman puts her hand out and to not shake it would embarrass her. See Meir Hildesheimer, et al., eds. Le-David Tzvi (Berlin, 1914), p. 218 (Hebrew section).
[10] From an unpublished letter of R. Weinberg.
[11] At the beginning of the Hebrew section of the Festschrift fuer Jacob Rosenheim (Frankfurt, 1931), the Agudah declaration is printed.

[12] For R. Zvi Yehudah Kook, the “original sin,” as it were, of Agudat Israel is precisely that it was founded by a layperson (Rosenheim), and R. Zvi Yehudah contrasts this to Mizrachi which was founded by a great Torah scholar, R. Isaac Jacob Reines. See Be-Ma’arakhah ha-Tziburit (Jerusalem, 1986), p. 76. In his eulogy for Rosenheim, R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg, Li-Frakim (2016 edition), p.  607, also refers to him as the founder of Agudat Israel. Yet it is more correct to say that Rosenheim was the major force in the founding of Agudat Israel, as he cannot be identified as the organization’s sole founder.
[13] “Scholars and Friends: Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg and Professor Samuel Atlas,” Torah u-Madda Journal 7 (1997), p. 111.
[14] See here for a recent example of the Agudah rabbinic leadership responding to such a claim (regarding synagogue closures and coronavirus). See here regarding Yaakov Litzman serving as minister in the current Israeli government, which was never approved by the rabbinic leadership of Yahadut ha-Torah. See also here.

In R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg’s letter to R. Moshe Soloveitchik, dated Oct. 20, 1949, and published here for the first time, R. Weinberg writes (ellipsis in original):

.וצדק הרבי ממונקאטש ז”ל שאמר לי כי עתידה האגודה להעביר את מרכז היהדות מביה”מ לאולם האספות ושם ימחאו הרבנים מחיאות כף לנאומים והאדמורי”ם יתכבדו באמירת ברכות . . . חכם עדיף מנביא

[15] On its hundredth anniversary in 2019, Torah Vodaath put out a beautifully produced book, America’s Yeshiva: Celebrating a Century of Torah Leadership in America. The pictures are wonderful and the story of the yeshiva’s beginning and growth are told in an honest way. Also noteworthy is that the yeshiva has a website with a lot of historical information, including most of the high school yearbooks that were produced. See here. Just going through the yearbooks, looking at the pictures, and reading the entries on each of the graduating students makes history come alive. The following yearbooks are missing from the website: 1944, 1947, 1948, 1951, If anyone has these yearbooks, please reach out to the yeshiva so they can be uploaded. The last yearbook on the website is 1978, which I assume means that the students did not publish any more yearbooks.

I do have two comments about the Torah Vodaath website and book. On the website herethere are biographies of the roshei yeshiva. However, there is no biography for R. Dovid Leibowitz, even though the book, pp. 150-152, devotes three pages to him, as well as mentioning him elsewhere. I hope that the omission from the website is not an intentional slight because of the dispute between R. Leibowitz and R. Shraga Feivel Mendlowitz that led to R. Leibowitz leaving Torah Vodaath and founding his own yeshiva. See Moshe D. Sherman, Orthodox Judaism in America (Westport, CT, 1996), p. 129.

While I think the book as a whole is great, there is a real blemish on p. 630 when the newest rosh yeshiva is discussed. I think most will understand why this is a terrible bizayon ha-Torah (a double bizayon ha-Torah, i.e., omitting mention of grandfather and father).

We are grateful that in 2018, just as Torah Vodaath began to mark its milestone centennial year, the Yeshiva welcomed Rav Yitzchok Lichtenstein, a descendant of Rav Chaim Soloveitchik and a grandson through marriage of Rav Reuven Grozovsky, to lead the Yeshiva. Rav Lichtenstein was a talmid of Rav Dovid Soloveitchik in Yerushalayim.

On p. 628 the other rosh yeshiva, R. Yosef Savitsky, is introduced as follows: “Rav Yosef Savitsky was raised in Boston by his father Rav Mordechai, a highly-respected Rav.”

If R. Lichtenstein had distanced himself from his family, I could understand the omissions (not that it would be right, but I could understand it). Yet not only has R. Lichtenstein not done so, but he himself has contributed to the legacy of his grandfather, with his most popular contribution undoubtedly this edition of R. Soloveitchik’s insights on the Haggadah.

[16] “Toldot Shmuel,” Kokhvei Yitzhak 15 (1851), p. 31.

The Lost Library, Missing Manuscripts, Saul Lieberman, and More
Marc B. Shapiro

When I finished my new post, it ended up being so long that I had to split it into five parts. Here is part 1.

1. All of us are able to benefit from the Seforim Blog because of the efforts of Dan Rabinowitz, who founded the blog almost fifteen years ago. In the early days, there was only a relatively small amount of people who knew about it, and Dan wrote all the posts. I encourage everyone to check out these early posts which are full of fascinating information. Today, the blog has grown very large, and is a major resource for both traditional and academic scholars. Dan has generously allowed people from all walks life to use the Seforim Blog as a place to post their scholarship and ideas.

Dan’s recent wonderful book, The Lost Library: The Legacy of Vilna’s Strashun Library in the Aftermath of the Holocaust, actually began as a Seforim Blog post.

You can learn about the book in Dan’s talk available here. I mention all this now because in the latest Jewish Review of Books there is a great review of The Lost Library by Allan Nadler, who as former research director at YIVO is able to provide his own insights that add to the story Dan tells. You can see the review here.

Since I began by speaking about the nature of the Seforim Blog, it is also worth recalling that things could have developed very differently had Dan not stood strong in his principles that the blog remain a site for “the free and open exchange of ideas and of opinions in the belief that as Jews you have a right to hear and to be heard.”[1] Some readers might recall the following announcement that appeared on the blog on June 24, 2008 (here).

Dear Seforim Blog Readers,

It is with great pleasure that we announce today that Tradition Online (TraditionOnline.org) will be adopting the Seforim blog onto its website.

We believe that the Seforim blog is a premiere source of online Jewish learning, and we hope that our resources and expanding website will help the newly-named Tradition Seforim Blog (TSB) continue to grow. TSB remains easily accessible at its new URL – seforim.TraditionOnline.org, and can also be accessed through Tradition’s website.

Allow me to assure you that the current Seforim editors will continue to exclusively direct the content and direction of the blog, and that TSB will continue to welcome your comments on the site. We salute Dan Rabinowitz for his excellent work, and look forward to helping him bring TSB to greater audiences.

This would have been an excellent partnership as it would have given the Seforim Blog technical assistance, while at the same time brought readers to Tradition’s website which had recently launched. Some commenters on the post expressed doubt that the partnership could last, and it turned out that they were correct. Although the people involved with the Tradition website were gracious, forward thinking, and fully committed that there would be no interference with the content on the Seforim Blog, this sentiment was not shared by some others in the Rabbinical Council of America. Demands were made that the content of posts and readers’ comments be overseen by someone approved by the RCA. In particular, it was my posts that these unnamed people wanted to censor. (Ironically, around this time I was actually invited to give a lecture at an RCA convention.)

To his great credit, Dan immediately made it clear that under no circumstances would the Seforim Blog be put under such censorship control, and it was back to the old website (which itself brought some financial costs). The years since have shown this to be a very good decision as the readership and influence of the Seforim Blog only grew. In retrospect, it should have been obvious to all that a rabbinical organization as large as the RCA, which represents a constituency with sometimes widely divergent views, would not be able to give its imprimatur to a blog whose purpose is to post interesting and occasionally even controversial material, and which refuses to censor comments. This would have made the RCA responsible for every post that went up, which would have put them in an impossible situation. Needless to say, many members of the RCA are themselves avid readers of the blog and they recognize the value of it being independent.

I think the same difficulty was seen with the journal Tradition. It is no accident that shortly after appearing on the scene, Hakirah had become the most popular of the Orthodox journals, entirely overshadowing Tradition. Hakirah, precisely because it was independent, was not afraid to be cutting edge and take on controversial issues, and thus created excitement and became a must read, while Tradition continued to stagnate.

One major difficulty in keeping the Seforim Blog going is that it costs money. There are also plans to make significant improvements to the site, and improvements obviously cost money Those who enjoy the Seforim Blog, and are able to donate something to keep it going, are encouraged to go here for a Paypal link. Whatever you can give is appreciated and will help the Seforim Blog continue its important work. The site is incorporated as a 501(c) charity and all donations are tax deductible. You will receive documentation of any donation. If everyone reading this now gives a little, it will go a long way.

2. Since in his recent book Dan deals with YIVO and its issue of ownership of books, let me turn to a similar issue, the ownership of manuscripts. In its June 2019 catalog, Kestenbaum offered for sale two letters from R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg and one letter from R. Hayyim Ozer Grodzinski. For reasons I will soon explain, I almost fell off my seat when I saw these being offered at auction. First, I must note that I know these letters very well. I even published the letter from R. Grodzinski inKitvei ha-Gaon Rabbi Yehiel Yaakov Weinberg, vol. 1, pp. 275-276. The letter was then republished, without acknowledging where it first appeared, inIggerot R. Hayyim Ozer (Bnei Brak, 2000), vol. 1, no. 481.

Here is the original letter from Kestenbaum’s website.

Here is part of the letter as printed in Kitvei R. Weinberg.

Take a look at the very end of the letter. I couldn’t make out a word, and neither could anyone else I asked, so I inserted three dots. (If anyone can make out the word, please let me know.)

Here is the second page of the letter in Iggerot R. Hayyim Ozer. Take a look at the end.

The first thing they did was good, in that they corrected a typo. מוהר”א should be מוהר”ע and refers to R. Ezra Munk (in Hebrew he went by Azriel). However, they also inserted the word נסע which anyone can see is not correct. They did this even though they did not have a copy of the manuscript. They just assumed it must be the missing word, but how can anyone make a guess like this without actually seeing the manuscript?

As for the letters from R. Weinberg to R. Unna, here is how they are shown on Kestenbaum’s website.

I published one of these letters in the appendix to my dissertation and refer to both of them in Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy, p. 125 n. 69.

So why did I almost fall off my chair when I saw the three letters (one from R. Grodzinski and two from R. Weinberg) in the Kestenbaum catalog? Because these letters were kept in an archive at Bar-Ilan University. Apparently, the archival material was regarded as belonging to both the Institute for Holocaust Research and the Institute for Diaspora Jewry, as both names were used to designate where it was held. That is why in different publications of mine, when I cite this material, I sometimes refer to it by one name and sometimes the other. It was in this archive that I found the letters, made copies, and then published two of the three (and I have copies of other documents from there as well). If you look at the images of the documents in the upper left-hand corner, you can see the Bar-Ilan manuscript number.

Here is the first page of Kitvei R. Weinberg, vol. 1.

For the appendix, no. 6, I identify the document as coming from the Institute for Diaspora Jewry 102:7/18. Now look at the upper left of R. Grodzinski’s letter. You can clearly see VII 18.

I was disturbed to see items that belonged to Bar-Ilan University being sold. I realized that there are two options. One is that Bar-Ilan itself had arranged for the sale, or had sold the letters to someone who was now reselling them. We have lots of examples of libraries that have sold material in them. However, in this case a sale would be very inappropriate. The Unna family gave the archive of R. Yitzhak Unna to Bar-Ilan with the purpose of preserving it for posterity and allowing researchers to have access to this material. If for some reason Bar-Ilan could not fulfill this task, the only appropriate thing would have been to give it to another archive. To have sold this material would be a complete abandonment of Bar-Ilan’s most basic responsibility as holder of an archive.

The other option is that the material was stolen, and unfortunately, we also have plenty of examples of stolen material ending up at auction.

The first thing I did was contact Bar-Ilan, as I thought that they would be interested in investigating this matter and perhaps stopping the auction until the issue could be sorted out. The response I got was somewhere between apathy and annoyance. They had absolutely no interest in what I was telling them, and even seemed annoyed that I was taking the time to tell them this. The fact that materials that they assumed responsibility for were being sold at auction, and thus not available for scholars to access anymore (as no copies had been made), was of absolutely no interest to them. I was shocked and speechless.

Eventually, I was able to figure out what I think happened. I was told by someone who was involved in one of the institutes that one of the people who worked with the archival materials had taken documents home to help with his research. When he died in 2000 the material was at his home, and it was thought that it was disposed of, no doubt by someone who did not realize what it was or that it belonged to Bar-Ilan. But now we know that it was not disposed of.

It is clear that Kestenbaum, which is known as a scrupulously honest auction house, had no way of knowing that the material it was given belonged to Bar-Ilan (assuming that what I wrote in the previous paragraph is what happened). Before it reached Kestenbaum, it could have gone through a few different hands without anyone realizing this either. Since even after I alerted Bar-Ilan no one there cared about this material, there really wasn’t anything that could be done. The problem, however, as in all such cases, is that material that was designed to be available for scholars to examine has now vanished. Although I haven’t been back to Bar-Ilan for many years, one of the things I was planning to do next time I was there was to return to these archival collections which have much important material and which I haven’t seen in over twenty years.[2] But now neither I nor anyone else will be able to do so.

What motivated me to write about this now is that in April 2020 another “old friend” of mine, a letter from R. Weinberg to R. Unna from the same Unna archive at Bar-Ilan, was offered for sale at a different auction house. You can view it here.

Here is the copy that I made (which also has some of my own handwriting). You can clearly see the Bar-Ilan manuscript number.

After this post was completed, I was alerted to another auction house in London which on May 18, 2020 (today!) is auctioning a letter from R. Weinberg to R. Ben Zion Uziel. You can see it here. After the auction concludes the page might be removed, but you can still see the catalog here, no. 176. This letter was stolen from the Israel State Archives, file number 000i7uz (old number: 887/12-פ). You can see the archive file here. A copy of this letter was made by Professor Amihai Radzyner in 2010, before the archive was digitized. In 2013 he sent a copy to me. Prior to this, I was sent a copy of the letter by someone who purchased it, yet neither of us then knew that it was stolen. Unlike Bar-Ilan University, I am sure that the Israel State Archives will want this letter returned to it after learning about its fate.

3. In my last post here I included a letter from Saul Lieberman to Max Rowe that many people found interesting.[3] I forgot to mention that it was Ariel Fuss who alerted me to the correspondence between Lieberman and Rowe. Although I carefully went through the Lieberman archive years ago in preparing Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox, I did not make copies of all the documents, and I thank Ariel for reminding me of this interesting material. Here are the letters in the archive from Rowe to Lieberman, from which we see not only who received the first Rothschild awards, but that R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik was also consulted in this matter.[4]

In the last post I also gave a couple of examples where it appears to me that the editors of books did not realize that the Jewish Theological Seminary is not an Orthodox institution. R. Moshe Maimon called my attention to the following example, from Mesorat Moshe, vol. 3, p. 213, no. 81, where we also see confusion about JTS.

The people who put the book together from R. Mordechai Tendler’s notes did not realize that when he asked R. Moshe if it is permitted to send a book to the “library of the Seminary,” that he and R. Moshe were referring to JTS. The editors mistakenly thought, as we can see from the heading, that this referred to “the” Christian seminary (as if there is one such place).

R. Yitzhak Nahman Eshkoli calls attention to what he sees as another mistake made by those who published R. Moshe Feinstein’s works.[5] Here is Iggerot Moshe, Orah Hayyim5, 22:21.

According to the text of R. Moshe’s responsum, animals are muktzeh, even those that children play with. This means that R. Moshe held that pets are also muktzeh. Yet in the small print the editor added that pets are permitted, even though this completely contradicts the first part of the sentence. See also Iggerot Moshe, Orah Hayyim 4, no. 16 (end), where R. Moshe forbids[6] moving a fish tank on Shabbat and Yom Tov: דבע”ח מוקצין.

Here is one more story about the Orthodox response to JTS. It was told by R. Joseph Buxbaum, the director of Machon Yerushalayim:[7] When R. Abraham Sofer came back to Jerusalem after teaching at the Seminary, the Brisker Rav, R. Isaac Zev Soloveitchik, stopped talking to him “in learning”. This upset Sofer and he complained to the Brisker Rav, what is the difference between him and Shraga Abramson. Abramson also taught at the Seminary and yet everyone knew that he was welcome to come speak in learning with the Brisker Rav.

The Brisker Rav replied with a story: The beit din in Vilna ruled that a woman should be divorced without receiving her ketubah because she did not cover her hair and thus had the status of עוברת על דת יהודית. The woman objected that just yesterday the beit din ruled that another woman who also did not cover her hair did not have the status of עוברת על דת יהודית, so what is going on? The dayanim explained to her that the woman from yesterday grew up in Vilna where it is common for married women not to cover their hair, so she is not regarded as עוברת על דת יהודית, but you come from Hungary where the practice is to shave the heads of married women. A Hungarian woman who goes without a head covering[8] is certainly an עוברת על דת יהודית. (The point is clear, but I wonder, in the twentieth century did any non-hasidic Hungarian women shave their heads?)

The Brisker Rav explained to Sofer that when a descendant of the Hatam Sofer teaches for the Conservatives, “he is a ‘sheigetz,’ but Shraga, where does he come from? From Lomza, nu . . . it is not so far away.”[9] His point was that Lithuanian Torah scholars, who are generally more open-minded than Hungarian scholars, have often not seen it as problematic to have relationships with non-Orthodox scholars.[10]

Along these lines, R. Eliezer Brodt called my attention to the fact that, together with numerous great rabbis, Louis Ginzberg was named one of the honorary presidents of the Telz alumni association, something that today appears unimaginable. The following appears in R. Aaron D. Burack, Pirhei Aharon (New York, 1954), vol. 2, p. 278.

In my post here I mentioned how R. Abraham Sofer’s edition of Meiri’s Hibbur ha-Teshuvah is dedicated to Ginzberg. Ovadya Hoffman called my attention to the fact that Sofer also dedicated another work to Ginzberg, this time in his memory. This work is Tractate Shekalim with two medieval commentaries (New York, 1954; the dedication is missing in the Copy Corner printing found on hebrewbooks.org).

Hoffman also informed me that there are three pages of Ginzberg’s notes at the end of the volume.[11] Hoffman also mentioned that there are notes from Lieberman at the end of the Meiri on Niddah.

Finally, regarding Lieberman and the Brisker Rav, it is of note that in Tosefta ki-Feshutah, Pesahim, p. 562, Lieberman writes:

וערבים עלי דברי מרן הגאון הרב ר’ זאב מבריסק

I don’t know of anyone else whom Lieberman refers to as “Maran”.

4. In my last post here I mentioned Samson Bloch’s witticism that מבקר stands for מתכבד בקלון חבירו. Let me now add the following, related to the word קלון, which for reasons of space I could not include in the previous post.

Bereshit Rabbah 18:24 states:

.ודבק באשתו: ר’ אבהו בשם ר’ יוחנן בני נח על הנשואות חייבין, על הארוסות פטורין, ר’ יונה בשם שמואל זונה שהיא עומדת בשוק ובאו עליה שנים הראשון פטור והשני חייב משום בעולת בעל

In this passage, the words I have underlined make perfect sense: “If a harlot was standing in the street.” The Jerusalem Talmud, Kiddushin 1:9, is a parallel passage, but there the text reads: זונה עומדת בחלון, “If a harlot was standing in the window.” What does it mean that the harlot was standing in the window? Korban Edah explains that she was standing in the window waiting for customers, as is the practice of harlots. While this makes sense in modern times, when we know that in some places (like Amsterdam) this is the practice of harlots, is there any evidence that in ancient times harlots would stand in the windows? Perhaps the contrary is true, as R. Shimon Amorai[12]  writes: שסתם זונות הולכות בחוץ. Yet while Korban Edah’s interpretation might seem anachronistic, what else could עומדת בחלון mean?

Jacob Reifman brilliantly suggests that instead of חלון the text should read: זונה עומדת בקלון, and he provides other examples of the use of the word קלון with reference to sexual immorality and prostitution.[13]

In general, Reifman’s writings, widely scattered throughout books and periodicals, should be gathered in one place. Readers will find in them many very insightful comments as well as many far-fetched interpretations.[14] Reifman often focuses on textual criticism but sometimes he offers other interpretations as well. For instance, he discusses Shabbat 55b-56b which gives a number of examples of “Whoever says that Reuben [David, Solomon, etc.] sinned is in error.” Reifman sees it as obvious that these are aggadic statements not meant to be taken literally.[15] He sees their purpose as twofold. The first is to train people to judge others favorably. Maimonides goes so far as to say that when dealing with a righteous person who it seems is doing something wrong, you should judge him favorably even if it is not easy to view matters in this fashion.[16]

The second purpose of the aggadic statements is so that the masses not be led astray by seeing how great people can also fall. The concern is that the masses will say that if these great people sinned, then we who are far below their level should not be too concerned about sinning. Reifman says that although the explanations given in the Talmud to explain the various sins are unconvincing, for the masses and the women it is possible that they would be effective. He refers to Rashi, Shabbat 30b, s.v. mutav, who speaks of aggadic expositions intended for these populations.

לאו מהכא יליף חלול שבת דפיקוח נפש נפקא לן מוחי בהם ולא שימות בהם אלא להטעימן הדבר באגדה המושכת את הלב לפי שהיו באים לשמוע הדרשה נשים ועמי הארץ והיו צריכין הדרשנין למשוך את לבבם

Reifman concludes similarly with regard to the passages he is focused on, which deny that certain great figures committed sins even though the biblical text states that they did:

והמאמרים הנ”ל, הם אפוא מן האגדות שהזמן גרמא והאגדות האלה אינם לא משפטים מקובלים ולא משפטים מושכלים כי אם תחבולות אשר קנו נבוני לב למשוך בהם את ההמון אחרי הטוב ולהרחיקו מן הרע.

It is noteworthy that R. Eliyahu Zini also concludes that the Talmud never intended to say that the biblical figures under discussion did not sin. That is why, R. Zini claims, the Talmud uses the language, “Whoever says [the biblical figure sinned]”, as the issue here is that we are not supposed to publicly mention these matters, and that that is what is problematic.[17]

שאכן יש בעיה, אלא שאסור להעלותה על דל שפתותינו ברבים או בפרהסיא. וכונתם ברורה: המפרסם את הדבר אינו אלא טועה, אף אם הדבר אמת

Before leaving Reifman, let me call attention to another comment of his that appears on the same page in Ha-Magid as the one I just dealt with. He deals with the following statement in Shabbat 119b which explains Psalms 105:15:

אל תגעו במשיחי אלו תנוקות של בית רבן ובנביאי אל תרעו אלו ת”ח

“Touch not mine anointed refers to school children; and do my prophets no harm, to disciples of the Sages.”

We can understand why “my prophets” might refer to Torah scholars, but what does “mine anointed” have to with school children? There have been any number of homiletic explanations of this, yet Reifman suggests that the passage has been corrupted and it really should be reversed so that “my prophets” are identified with the school children and “mine anointed” with the Torah scholars. Here is what he says, and I think everyone must acknowledge that it makes great sense:

נ”ל ברור, כי צ”ל להפך: אל תגעו במשיחי אלו ת”ח ובנביאי אל תרעו אלו תנוקות של בית רבן, וכי כנוי משיחי לת”ח הוא ע”ש: דרדוגי דמשחא ארישא דרבנן (כתובות י”ז ב’) וכנוי נביאי לתנוקות של בית רבן הוא ע”ש: א”ר יוחנן מיום שחרב בית המקדש ניטלה נבואה מן הנביאים וניתנה לתינוקות (ב”ב י”ב ב’), וע”ש: ר’ יוחנן בדיק בינוקא (חולין צ”ה ב’) וראה והביטה, כי ר’ יוחנן אשר בדק בינוקא הלך לשיטתו שהנבואה נתנה לתנוקות אחרי חורבן ביה”מ. ועל בדק בינוקא פי’ רש”י: דשייל ליה פסוק לי פסוקיך עכ”ל, והוא מתאים היטב עם אשר אמר ר’ יוחנן: השכים ונפל לו פסוק לתוך פיו הרי זו נבואה קטנה (ברכות נ”ה ב’) , והבן.

I realize that we can’t change the text of the Talmud, but will you ever read the passage again without thinking about Reifman’s suggested emendation? As far as I know, the only commentator to take note of Reifman’s suggestion is R. Reuven Margaliyot, Nitzotzei Or, Shabbat 119b [18] He doesn’t even remember where he saw the suggested emendation, as he writes:

בזכרוני שצ”ל להיפך אל תגעו במשיחי אלו ת”ח כמש”א בכתובות י”ז ב דרדוגי דמשחא ארישא דרבנן, ובנביאי אל תרעו אלו תנוקות של בית רבן דמיום שנחרב ביהמ”ק ניתנה הנבואה לקטנים (בבא בתרא י”ב א)

Much more can be written about Reifman, both with regard to his own writings and also his relationship with the rabbinic world, but this will have to await a future post.[19] Here is his picture.

5. In my last post I wrote:

When it comes to the word דִבׇּה, which means “slander” in biblical Hebrew, it has a very different meaning in medieval texts. “As Jacob Klatzkin [in his Thesaurus] notes, dibbah in medieval Hebrew does not mean ‘slander,’ but rather a false claim, nonsense, or absurdity.” Y. Tzvi Langermann, “Rabbi Yosef Qafih’s Modern Medieval Translation of the Guide,” in Josef Stern, et al., eds., Maimonides’ Guide of the Perplexed in Translation (Chicago, 2019), p. 268.

Although this might seem like a tidbit of pedantry, it actually is much more than this, and many people have been misled because they did not realize what the word דִבׇּה means in medieval texts. For example, the following appears in Maimonides’ Introduction to Helek, in the medieval translation by Solomon ben Joseph found in the back of the Talmud:

ואף על פי שהנראה מקצת דבריהם יש מהם מן הדבה והריחוק מן השכל, עד שאילו סופר על פשוטו לעמי הארץ כל שכן לחכמים היו תמהים בהתבוננם בהם והם אומרים היאך יתכן שיהיה בעולם אדם שיחשוב כזה או שיאמין שהיא אמונה נכונה קל וחומר שייטב בעיניו.

In this passage, Maimonides is describing the first category of those who take aggadot literally. Here is how Fred Rosner translates these words (his translation is from the Hebrew, not from the original Arabic):[20]

And this, in spite of the fact that in their literal sense, some of the words of the Sages would seem to be so slanderous and absurd that if they were related to the uneducated masses in their literal sense—and all the more so to the wise—they would reflect upon them in amazement and exclaim “How is it possible that there exists in the world anyone who would think in this manner or believe that such statements are correct, much less approve of them.”

Clearly, the word “slanderous” makes no sense in this sentence, and that is because when the medieval translation uses the word דִבׇּה it means something else entirely. In his note to the passage, Rosner writes: “Kafah omits the word ‘slanderous.’” This is an incorrect formulation. R. Kafih was translating the commentary anew, so he was not tied to the medieval Hebrew translation. He translates:

ואף על פי שיש בפשטי מקצת דבריהם מן הזרות

Furthermore, R. Kafih actually refers to the medieval translation on p. 136 n. 35 of his edition. In his typical sharp fashion, R. Kafih writes:

בנדפס “מן הדבה” ודבה היא

In his play on words, R. Kafih is saying that the medieval translator engaged in slander by falsely translating the passage as “slanderous.” The only thing that is surprising here is that R. Kafih seems to have also been misled and did not realize that when the translator uses the word דִבׇּה it means “false claim,” “nonsense”, “absurdity,” or a similar word.[21]

In seeking to make sense of the word דִבׇּה and assuming it means slander, the Rambam le-Am, p. 118 n. 12, explains:

הוצאת דיבה על חז”ל, ביחסם להם דברים תפלים שאין להם שחר

These are nice words, but they have nothing to do with what Maimonides said, or for that matter, with what appears in the medieval translation.[22]

The same word דִבׇּה also appears in Maimonides’ Introduction to Helek in his discussion of the second group of people who distort the meaning of Aggadot. In the medieval translation:

והם באים לסכל אותם ולגנותם ומוציאים דבה על מה שאין בו דבה וילעיגו על דברי חכמים לרגעים

Rosner translates: “They eventually call these (rabbinical assertions) foolish, and deprecate them and slander that which should not be slandered. From time to time, they deride the words of the Sages.” Once again, “slander” has nothing to do with what Maimonides wrote. R. Kafih translates:[23]

וחשבו למוזר מה שאינו מוזר

In his note (p. 136 n. 43), he writes:

בנדפס “ומוציאים דבה על מה שאין בו דבה” ואינו נכון

However, the medieval translation makes perfect sense once we understand that when it uses דִבׇּה it does not mean “slander”. Thinking that this is what the word means, it makes sense that R. Kafih would say that it is incorrect.

Yitzhak Shilat translates:[24]

ולגנות מה שאין בו גנאי

In his translation of Guide 1:51, Samuel Ibn Tibbon uses דִבׇּה in the same way:

ולאמתם בצעקות ובהוצאת דבות והרחקות ובפנים רבים מורכבים ממחלוקת נצוח והטעאה

Strangely enough, and presumably because the printers did not know the meaning of דבות in the sentence, most printings (including the standard one with the commentaries)[25] replace ובהוצאת דבות with ובהוצאות רבות, which itself has no meaning.[26]

* * * * * * * * *

[1] For many people in the New York area in the 1980s and 1990s, these words—replacing Jews with “American citizens”— will bring back memories of driving home from work. For those who want to hear this opening line again, listen here. I actually know of one gadol who used to listen to the Bob Grant show at home.
[2] The letter from R. Hayyim Lauer that I published in Milin Havivin 2 (2006), pp. 25-33, also came from the archive we are discussing. You can see it here. R. Lauer discusses whether in contemporary times, in a she’at ha-dehak, a pilegesh can be permitted.

Regarding a pilegesh, R. Jacob Emden, in his recently published Em la-Binah, p. 82, explains in an original fashion that the root of the word is פלג אשה. (As noted in the text, he already mentioned this explanation in Lehem Shamayim, Parah 1:3; regarding the vocalization of Em la-Binah, see Berakhot 57a).

Em la-Binah, which is a commentary on the entire Torah, is a very significant publication and required reading for anyone with an interest in R. Emden. It is noteworthy that the editor, R. Elimelech Zwiebel, leaves out some harsh comments from R. Emden about earlier commentators (including Ibn Ezra, see p. 98). However, when he does so he indicates this in the text, so when the manuscript from the British Library is eventually put online, readers will be able to find out what was left out. We must all be grateful to Zwiebel that he took this important step, rather than just omitting the “problematic” comments.

On pp. 60-63, Zwiebel cites R. Emden’s famous passage about circumcision that is only found in a few surviving copies of the first printing of Migdal Oz (Altona, 1748). I discuss this passage in Changing the Immutable, p. 204, where, following Scholem and others who have dealt with the matter, I state that R. Emden himself removed this passage. Zwiebel, on the other hand, argues that R. Emden initially did not include the passage in the first printing, but before the printing was complete he added it to some copies. See Yeshurun 32 (2015), pp. 851-852.

In my opinion this is incorrect and makes no sense at all. In what I assume is the self-censored Altona 1748 “edition”, the missing passage is preceded by these words:

ובאמת דבריו הללו מתאימים כו’

The word ‘כו appears on the second line and there is a big space after it, and also a little space before it. Here is what the page looks like as found in Zwiebel’s article.

Zwiebel writes that:

מילת כו’ מוכיחה כי כוונתו היתה להרחיב עוד בענין זה

This makes no sense. First of all, no one prints a book intending at the outset to redo the pages (with all the work this entails), and adds ‘כו to let the reader know that a new section is coming. Second, even if this was the case, there would be no need for the spaces before and after ‘כו. Here is what p. 2b in the “uncensored” version looks like.

Look at lines 1 and 2 and compare to the “censored” version shown above. It is obvious that the “uncensored” version is the original text, and the material from line 2 and on was removed by R. Emden.

One final passage which caught my attention is on p. 110 where R. Emden says that despite Proverbs 31:30: “Grace is deceitful and beauty is vain,” women’s beauty is nevertheless important and is something Scripture mentions, and “Jacob our forefather went after his eyes.”

לא לחנם כתב תורה את זאת והדומה לזה שמשתבח הכתוב ביופי נשים, ושיעקב אבינו עליו השלום הלך אחר עינים

What this means is that Jacob saw that Rachel was beautiful, and this is why the Torah writes in Gen. 29:17: “Rachel was of beautiful form and fair to look upon.”

What then are we to make of the verse in Proverbs? R. Emden says that “beauty is vain” only when it comes without fear of Heaven, and that is why this appears in the second half of the verse from Proverbs. Yet when it is combined with fear of Heaven, then beauty is a positive thing. He continues by explaining how one’s outer appearance is connected to one’s inner spirituality. In other words, Rachel’s outer physical beauty was, in Jacob’s eyes, also a sign of her inner spiritual beauty.

אין היופי הבל אלא כשהוא בלי יראת שמים, אבל בודאי שיופי הגשמית הוא צורת אדם [הפנימי] . . . ולכן ודאי הכיר כי הגשמות ציור הרוחנית היא, ואם נמצא אשה בפגם וסרת טעם, דע שלא נזהרו בה כראוי ונתקלקלה בחברה רעה

[3] The website Matzav not only posted the letter together with two paragraphs from my post, but made it seem as if I wrote the piece for Matzav, as there is no mention that it originally appeared on the Seforim Blog. See here. Even after Matzav was told that this is inappropriate and that they should take down the post, nothing was done. I am sure that Matzav’s interest in the letter was because of how Lieberman praised R. Chaim Kanievsky.
[4] Documents provided courtesy of the Saul Lieberman Archives (ARC 76/8) of the Jewish Theological Seminary Library.

In Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox, I published Lieberman’s letter against ordaining women. The last sentence of this letter  reads:

אבל אשה שפסולה לדון, ולא תהא ראויה לכך, אין להסמיך אותה בתואר זה (ואפילו כמליצה בעלמא, עיין בתוספות ע”ז ה ע”א ד”ה אלא) ובל נעשה את עצמנו חוכא ואיטלולא.

While preparing the book, I did not know what the meaning of the reference to Tosafot is. R. Chaim Rapoport explained it to me.

The Tosafot in Avodah Zarah suggest that the figurative expression “ha-eynei ha-anashim ha-heim tenaker” (Numbers 16:14) – clearly a melitzah – would not have been written in relation to people who were physically blind. Lieberman’s claim is that since a woman is not able to be a rabbi in the true, talmudic, sense of the word, therefore the title should not even be applied to her “be-derech melitzah”, hence the reference to the Tosafot.

It is interesting that in R. Herschel Schachter’s article against women rabbis, Hakirah 11 (Spring 2011), pp. 19-23, one of his major sources is “Rabbi Shaul Lieberman”.
[5] Tza’ar Ba’alei Hayyim be-Halakhah ve-Aggadah, p. 514 n. 1171.
[6] R. Menasheh Klein discusses other issues related to an aquarium. See Mishneh Halakhot, vol. 6, no. 216 (called to my attention by R. Aviad Stollman).
[7] It is recorded in R. Eliyahu Soloveitchik’s unpublished memoir, p. 16 (unnumbered).
[8] The same approach, in which the lack of head covering among Lithuanian Jewish women—as opposed to Hungarian women— was not viewed as reflecting negatively on their general religiosity, is seen in the following story recorded by Moshe Potolosky of what the Hazon Ish told his father (Mevakshei Torah 49 [Tamuz 5769]), p. 71, called to my attention by Joel Wolowelsky).

.אמר רבנו לאבי: כשאתה תארח בבית שבו אין האשה נוהגת לכסות את ראשה, אם היא מליטא – יתכן שאף המהדרים והמחמירים ביותר יכולים לסעוד אצלה בלב שקט. אבל אם היא מהונגריה – אסור לטעום מתבשיליה

ומדוע? כי בליטא לא הקפידו רוב הנשים על כסוי ראש (א”ה, בתקופה ההיא בליטא היה פרוץ הדבר) ואף נשים צדקניות רבות מאד הקלו בזה. אבל בהוגנריה, היתה בקהלות האורתודוקסיות הקפדה רבה בענין זה, ובדרך כלל,רק אשה שזלזלה במצוות היתה נמנעת .מלכסות את ראשה, ועל אחת כזו אי אפשר לסמוך בעניני כשרות

Moshe Botchko writes simply (Mikhtavim u-Ma’amarim ha-Rav Botchko, p. 252):

.בליטא לא נהגו נשים דתיות לכסות ראשן אף מחוץ לביתן, חוץ מנשות הרבנים

The following appears in the anonymous Ha-Keter ve-ha-Kavod le-Hai Olamim (Jerusalem, 2017), p. 102:

.והנה האמת היא שאין שום מקום להרגיש, את ההרגשה המוטעת אשר ינסה היצר לטעת בלב חלק מההורים, כאילו הדור הצעיר שחפץ לתקן את הדבר, ולקיים את המצוה הזו כתיקונה, הרי זה – חס ושלום – מחמת מעלתו ויתרונו על הדור הקודם

מחשבה זו אינה נכונה כלל, מפני שהאמת היא שהדור הקודם אינו אשם בזה כלל וכלל, כי התחלת הדבר היה מחמת הקושי הגדול שהיה בחוץ לארץ, בין הגוים, ובהתגברות מחריבי הדת, שעקרו לגמרי את קיום מצות כיסוי הראש, עד שאפילו מבתים של יראים ושלמים בליטא, היו נשותיהם מהלכות בגילוי ראש ממש, וכמו שמפורש בערוך השלחן סימן ע”ה סעיף ז.

Binyamin Zev Jacobson,Divrei Ben Shlomo(Jerusalem, 1957), vol. 1, p. 306, tells the following story:

לפני יותר מחמש ועשרים שנה הייתי בעיר גדולי בלטויה ובקרתי שם את הרב ואשתו כבדה אותי בכוס יין, ואז הייתי מדקדק ולא רציתי לשתות מפני שערה המגולה, והרב גער בי מאוד ואמר לי שרבות מנשי רבני ליטא הולכות כן

(He also records R. Hayyim Ozer Grodzinski’s sharp response when told of what this rabbi said.)

Regarding Hungary, the Orthodox community in Budapest was very strict about the matter of women’s head covering. If a married woman did not cover her hair, her family would not be accepted as a member of this community. See Shmuel Weingarten, “Ha-Shelilah she-be-Shitat ha-Pirud be-Ungaryah,” Areshet (1944), p. 438.
[9] Abramson studied in Lomza but he was actually from Ciechanowiec (near Grodno), the birthplace of R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg.
[10] See my Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox; Moshe Maimon, “Perek be-Hithavut ha-‘Olam ha-Torah’ be-Artzot ha-Berit le-Ahar ha-Milhamah,” Hakirah 26 (2019), pp. 31-52; and the discussion at the Otzar haHochma forum here. R. Yaakov Hayyim Sofer, Menuhat Shalom, vol. 6, p. 124, in mentioning R. Joseph Zechariah Stern’s citation of “problematic” works, refers to שיטת קצת חכמי ליטא בענין.

It continues to amaze me that, as noted in Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox, p. 31 n. 110, even in a 1935 private letter to R. Shlomo Heiman, R. Hayyim Ozer Grodzinski referred to Louis Ginzberg as ‘הרה”ג מו”ה לוי ד”ר גינזבורג שי. See Iggerot R. Hayyim Ozer, vol. 2, no. 1004. In Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox I included a letter from R. Grodzinski to Ginzberg where understandably he gives Ginzberg the typical fancy titles. This letter was later included in Iggerot R. Hayyim Ozer, vol. 3, no. 276, with no acknowledgment of where the letter first appeared. At the end of the letter there is a name that neither I nor anyone else could make out. I transcribed it as מאיר באראן and then added a question mark. In Iggerot R. Hayyim Ozer they removed the question mark. Uriel Bener called my attention to Shenot Dor va-Dor (Jerusalem, 1999), p. 271, from where we see that the name is מאיר באסין, who happened to be the father-in-law of R. Yisrael Gustman.
[11] Regarding Ginzberg, see also R. Zev Leiter, Mi-Toratan shel Rishonim (Jerusalem, 2000), p. 61, who refers to him as מהר”ל גינצבורג. R. Gedaliah Felder, Yesodei Yeshurun, vol. 3, p. 146 refers to ר”ל גינזבורג. Here is the title page of the 1946 edition of Ma’alot ha-Torah by R. Abraham ben Solomon Zalman, the brother of the Vilna Gaon. R. Nissan Waxman and R. Yehiel Michel Feinstein were willing to collaborate with Ginzberg and to even put his name on the title page.

[12] Ha-Posek, 9 (Tamuz-Av 5708), p. 1529. He offers his own far-fetched interpretation.
[13] Beit Talmud 4 (Vienna, 1883), p. 16, also printed in his Ruah Hadashah (Pressburg, 1885), pp. 2-3. Reifman’s interpretation is cited by R. Azriel Hildesheimer, Hiddushei Rabbi Azriel (Jerusalem, 1992), Kiddushin 9b (p. 316). Without mentioning Reifman, the same emendation is suggested by A. Rosenberg, Al Devar Tikunei Nushaot bi-Yerushalmi (Lodz, 1928), p. 71. In a future post I will discuss who this “A. Rosenberg” was.
[14] R. Meir Mazuz discusses one of Reifman’s comments in my Iggerot Malkhei Rabbanan, p. 314. Those who wish to purchase this volume can do so here. Those in Israel who are interested in the book should contact me directly.
[15] Ha-Magid, May 14, 1873, p. 175. See my Changing the Immutable, p. 5, for many examples of sages who understood David’s sin with Bathsheba literally.

[16] It is fascinating to note that the kabbalist R. Judah Fatiyah was not happy with the talmudic explanation, also found in the Zohar, that Uriah had given a get to Bathsheba. He regarded this as a forced explanation. In his Matok la-Nefesh, pp. 56a-b, he offers an explanation which came to him from someone in a dream, according to which King David voided the marriage of Uriah and Bathsheba. He did this by himself, as he was too embarrassed to involve the Sanhedrin. As the most distinguished member of the Sanhedrin, he had this authority to void a marriage. R. Fatiyah was told in his dream that this explanation had never before been told to anyone else, because the spirit telling him this he was too embarrassed to have shared this information before then.

לבי ולבך ידעי שכל התירוצים הם דוחק ומוכרחין אנן לעייל פילא בקופא דמחטא מפני כבודו של משיח ה’ שהיה יקר בעיני ה’ . . . יש תירוץ רביעי הנגלה אלי בחלום . . . כי ראיתי כאלו אדם שאינו נראה כלל אומר אלי הנה אנן קיימא לן בדיני הקדושין שכל המקדש אדעתא דרבנן איהו מקדש ויכולין רבנן הנמצאים בדור ההוא לעקור ולבטל הקידושין של איזה אדם ותהיה אשתו פנויה למפרע . . . וכשאירע מעשה דבת שבע ראה דוד את עצמו שאינו יכול לכוף את יצרו עמד בינו לבין עצמו בלא צירוף הסנהדרין עמו ובטל את קדושי אוריה ובחר הרע במיעוטו שלא לפגוע באיסור ערוה ח”ו כי היה בוש לבטל את קדושי אוריה בצרוף הסנהדרין עמו שלא לצורך, ויש כח בדוד שהוא לבדו יכול לבטל הקדושין כי הוא היה מופלא שבסנהדרין . . . כל זה נאמר אלי בחלום בקיצור נמרץ כי המדבר אלי היה בוש ונכלם להרחיב הדברים, גם אמר אלי כי מיום שאירע ביטול זה עד היום הזה לא נתגלה עוד ענין זה לשום אדם מעולם לא בהקיץ ולא בחלום כי היה בוש להגיד ענין זה הביטול, ובפי’ הד’ הזה יותרו כל השאלות מעל עבד ה’ ועל משיחו נעים זמירות ישראל.

After citing R. Fatiyah’s statement, R. Ovadiah Yosef writes (Meor Yisrael, Shabbat 56a):

ובמחכ”ת דברי חלומות לא מעלין ולא מורידין ואין ממש בדבריו . . . ואין לנו אלא דברי רבותינו שהם דברי אלקים חיים

Ovadiah was clearly upset that R. Fatiyah, whose expertise was in Kabbalah, chose to weigh in on a halakhic matter and offer the incorrect view that a great Torah scholar can simply invalidate a Jewish marriage without aget. For another response to R. Fatiyah, see R. Nissim Kaduri,Ma’aseh Nissim, p. 12. These sources are cited by R. Meir Mazuz, Bayit Ne’eman 56 (5 Nisan 5777), p. 4 n. 23.

For more dreams of R. Fatiyah, this time with reference to the book Hemdat Yamim, see Avraham Yaari, Ta’alumat Sefer(Jerusalem, 1954), ch. 8.
[17] Etz Erez, vols. 1-2, pp. 287-288 (emphasis in original). Since I have discussed Saul Lieberman in this post, it is worth noting that R. Zini does not regard him positively. This is what he writes in Etz Erez, vol. 4, p. 224.

.וכרגיל בעל תוספתא כפשוטה נהג כאן כחוקרים רבים אחרים, שברמות רוחם מדברים כאלו הם מתנבאים מפי השכינה, וקובעים עמדות ללא כל הוכחה, אפילו לא נתן את דעתו לסתירה הפנימית שבדבריו

Etz Erez, vol. 3, p. 25 n. 10 (emphasis in original):

ובעל תוספתא כפשוטה בלהיטותו לפרש כל דבר עפ”י המידע המדעי, היסטורי או אחר, כמעט כילד קטן שלא החזיק צעצוע מעולם ונותנים לו אחד, לא הבין כלום, לכן כתב (ברכות פ”ד שם) “הלכה זו מתארת את מנהגי הסעודה בזמן העתיק אצל נכבדי העם ונכללו כאן כמה פרטים שאין להוציא מהם מסקנות להלכה, מפני שמקורם נעוץ בנימוסי המקום ולא בהלכה. ובדרך כלל הסדר מתאים למנהגי הרומאים בסעודה וגם של היונים בתקופה המאוחרת, ואין כאן ‘הלכה בסעודה‘.” הרי הוכחני שיש כאן הלכות ממש, אבל ודאי לא מה שחשב.

Etz Erez, vol. 3, p. 35:

.אינני מסתמך אף פעם על חבור של מי שמיסד את היהדות הקונסרבטיבית בא”י, וכוונתי למחבר התוספתא כפושטא עצמו, אף אם הוא היה בן דוד של ה’חזון איש’

Etz Erez, vol. 1, p. 124 n. 191:

וזה דומה לחוקרי מדעי היהדות הכותבים ‘מהרי”ן אפשטיין’, ‘מהר”ש ליברמן’ וכדו’, תוך נסיון נואש להעביר את הסמכות התורנית לחוקרי האקדמיה, כאילו הם עמדו בראש ישיבות. מדובר במגמה פסולה לחלוטין בעיני איש ירא ה’. חוקר תלמוד, אף אם למדן גדול הוא, איננו איש תורה על תקנו זה, אלא סתם ידען, ולהעניק לו תואר המיועד למשמשים בקודש, היא חילול הקודש וגניבה במחתרת, ורק עם הארץ יעשה זאת.

Hesed Leumim Hatat, pp. 19-20 n. 29:

בתוספתא כפשוטה (עמ’ 756) כתב כל מיני דברי הבל (כמו שהתחיל לעשות מאז מכר נשמתו לקונסרבטיבים) . . . רק מי שאיבד כל תחושת של כבוד האומה הישראלית, עם ה’, מי שאיבד את דרכו האמונית, יכול לומר שלא ברור מהיכן איסור זה. ליברמן בעל הזכרון המופלג, בעל הבקיאות הרחבה מאד, שכל כך שקע במקורות של תושבע”פ אינו זוכר עוד תוכן של פסוקים אלמנטריים ביותר, שכל ילד ידע בע”פ בגלות, ואינו מסוגל להבחין שאין צורך במקור, כיון שתורה מפורשת היא!! . . . ועל חטא זה הוא מוסיף פשע פרשנות עפ”י שיטה ‘דרוויניסטית’ היסטורית מטופשת, פרי עבדות לדעות הנכרים.

Unfortunately, none of R. Zini’s books are on Otzar HaHochma.

[18] Regarding R. Margaliyot, whose writings are of great interest to many, I have recently discovered a few articles of his that are completely unknown and have not been reprinted in the various collections of his writings. I will discuss them in a future post.
[19] See the letters to him from R. Elijah David Rabinowitz-Teomim published in Mikabtze’el 36 (2009), pp. 47ff., ibid. 37 (2011), pp. 75ff. See ibid., p. 76, that when R. Joseph Zechariah Stern published his responsa which were sent to Reifman, he abbreviated his name.
[20] Maimonides’ Commentary on the Mishnah: Tractate Sanhedrin (New York, 1981), p. 141.
[21] If I am correct, this was only an early mistake and R. Kafih must have later realized this. I say this because Al-Harizi used the term in his translation of the Guide a number of times. See Langermann, “Rabbi Yosef Qafih’s Modern Medieval Translation of the Guide,” pp. 168ff.
[22] The same mistake is made by R. Shlomo Aviner in his edition of Hakdamat ha-Rambam le-Perek Helek (n.p., 2013), p. 82.
[23] Just to show you how times change, Rosner translates R. Kafih’s words: וחשבו למוזר מה שאינו מוזר, “and consider queer that which is not queer.” If Rosner were translating this today, instead of “queer” he would use “strange,” as queer has come to mean something entirely different.
[24] Hakdamot ha-Rambam la-Mishnah (Jerusalem, 1992), p. 134.
[25] See Yehudah Ibn Shmuel’s textual note in his edition of Moreh ha-Nevukhim, vol. 2, pp. 27-28 (third pagination).
[26] See also David Kaufmann, Geschichte der Attributenlehre in der Jüdischen Religionsphilosophie des Mittelalters (Gotha, 1877), p. 273 n. 64, for what seems to be an example of replacing דבה with רבה.

Cemeteries and Response to Criticism

Marc B. Shapiro

In my last post here I said that when it is safe, I will go to Baghdad to visit the grave of the Ben Ish Hai. I cannot find a picture of the Ben Ish Hai’s grave online, but you can see it in R. Yaakov Moshe Hillel’s beautifully produced recent book, Ben Ish Hai, p. 337. However, this is from the old cemetery in Baghdad, and because of a government order the remains in this cemetery were moved in the early 1960s. So it remains to be seen if the grave can now be located.[1] R. Hillel, p. 336 n. 480, claims that the precise location cannot be identified.

כיום, לא ניתן לזהות את קבריהם, בשל תנאי אקלים קשים השוררים בבבל אשר גרמו להתפוררות המצבות, ומחוסר רישום מדוייק של חלקות הקבורה.

Yet until we can go in and actually examine the spot, we cannot be certain if this is the case. There have been other examples of graves thought to have been lost, which have then been found. The best-known example is the grave of R. Israel Salanter, which was only located twenty years ago.[2]

While there is no doubt that the Ben Ish Hai was buried in Baghdad, there is also a tombstone for him on the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem.

According to a famous story, which is also told on the tombstone, the Ben Ish Hai’s body was not only magically transferred to Jerusalem on the day he died, but the grave-digger testified to burying him on the Mount of Olives and wanted payment for his labor.[3] I guess we can say that the Ben Ish Hai was buried three times: twice in Baghdad and once in Jerusalem.

It is hard to know whether the entire story of the burial in Jerusalem is a legend, or if there actually was a grave digger who figured out a way to make some money and invented the story to get paid for digging the grave. Assuming the latter is the case, the grave digger must have known his crowd, that not only would they be inclined to believe such a story, but that they would also not think of actually confirming the story by digging up the grave. Truth be told, it would have to be a very fearless grave digger to leave the grave empty, because one never knows if it will be opened, so it is possible that some unknown person is actually found beneath the tombstone. It is also possible that the grave digger did not have any bad intent, but just had a very vivid imagination. In any case, it is fascinating that such a tombstone exists in the most special Jewish cemetery, and even more incredible that there are people who actually believe that the Ben Ish Hai is buried there.

Supposedly, the Ben Ish Hai’s tombstone on the Mount of Olives is the only one that is standing upright, as all others are horizontal. (Maybe someone in Jerusalem can confirm this.) It is worth noting that R. Yitzhak Kaduri paid the grave in Jerusalem no mind, and even joked about it.[4] R. Shmuel Eliyahu has stated that while the Ben Ish Hai is buried in Baghdad, his spirit came to Jerusalem.[5]

Similar to the story with the Ben Ish Hai’s burial place, R. Abraham Joshua of Apt is buried in Medzhybizh, near the Baal Shem Tov’s grave, but there is a legend that angels carried his body to Tiberias, and there is a stone marking his grave there as well.[6]

This last summer I was in Marrakech, Morocco. In the local Jewish cemetery, R. Jacob Timsut is buried. Yet, “one month after the deceased rabbi was buried in Marrakech, a letter arrived from Jerusalem announcing the marvelous appearance of a tombstone with the name of Rabbi Ya’aqov Timsut in the well-known cemetery on the Mount of Olives.”[7] So once again, you can visit the tzaddik’s grave in its original spot or in Jerusalem.

Regarding tombstones even though the deceased is not buried there, I must call attention to the fascinating comments of R. Hayyim Nathan Dembitzer (1820-1892). R. Dembitzer was a dayan in Cracow and author of the responsa volume Torat Hen. Yet his claim to fame is his historical writings. As a real historian, he was prepared to accept the truth from where it came, and it is significant that in his work Mikhtevei Bikoret (Cracow, 1892), he included correspondence with Heinrich Graetz. Here is the title page and the first two pages of this book.

 

Look at how respectfully he refers to Graetz, which is the sort of thing that would have driven R. Samson Raphael Hirsch and R. Esriel Hildesheimer crazy.

Dembitzer’s respectful scholarly interactions with Graetz, in which he did not let religious differences interfere, is parallel to how certain important rabbinic figures related respectfully to Louis Ginzberg. I dealt with this matter in Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox, and it has also recently been discussed by R. Moshe Maimon.[8] Interestingly, in Mikhtevei Bikoret R. Dembitzer also includes correspondence with Nachum Sokolow.

Dembitzer’s two-volume Kelilat Yofi is focused on the rabbis of Lvov as well as other Polish rabbis, and is essential for anyone doing research on the Polish rabbinate. In this work, vol. 1 p. 41a, he mentions that Elyakim Carmoly had written that in earlier years in Lvov they would place tombstones in the cemetery for the deceased scholars of the city even if they had died and were buried elsewhere.

Dembitzer does not give an exact reference for Carmoly, only mentioning that his comment is in Ha-Karmel. Fortunately, I was able to find Carmoly’s article and it appears in Ha-Karmel, April 17, 1867, p. 302. Carmoly’s has two proofs for his contention. The first proof is that in R. Gavriel ben Naftali Hertz’s Matzevat Kodesh (Lemberg 1864), vol. 2, in the second half of the book (there is no pagination here), we find the following tombstone for R. Elijah Kalmankash, who served as rav of Lvov.

The tombstone explicitly states:

.וישכב עם אבותיו ויקבר במקום קבר אביו ולא ידע איש את קבורתו עד היום הזה

This is a clear proof that at least for this rabbi, a tombstone was placed in the ground even though he was not buried there.

Carmoly also notes, as his second proof, that in Matzevat Kodesh, vol. 2, p. 22a, it records, from the Lvov cemetery the text of the tombstone of R. Petahiah, son of R. David Lida who was rav of Amsterdam. His date of death is given as 1721. Here is the text of the tombstone as recorded in Matzevat Kodesh.

(Following R. Petahiah’s tombstone, Matzevat Kodesh records the tombstones of another son and son-in-law of R. Lida.) However, Carmoly tells us that we know that R. Petahiah died and was buried in Frankfurt. R. Markus Horowitz in his Avnei Zikaron (Frankfurt, 1901), p. 290 (no. 2712), published many years after Carmoly’s article, records the text of his tombstone as follows.

As you can see, the date of death is 1751, thirty years later than the date given on the tombstone in Lvov. In other similar cases, I would say that we are dealing with two different people, but the specificity of the tombstone texts makes it hard to deny that they are both for the same person (and Petahiah was hardly a common name).[9] Carmoly’s conclusion is that the community of Lvov put up a tombstone for R. Petahiah to memorialize him, even though he was buried in Frankfurt. Neither Carmoly nor R. Dembitzer offer an explanation as to why the Lvov tombstone places his death thirty years too soon, but they would probably view this as just a simple error.

Dembitzer not only agrees with Carmoly in the case of R. Petahiah, but offers another example of this phenomenon. R. Zvi Hirsch ben Zekhariah Mendel had served as rav in Lvov, but later he was rav in Lublin and died there around 1700. However, there was a tombstone for him in Lvov which gave his date of death at 1655. R. Dembitzer does not explain the discrepancy of the dates of death, and presumably he would say that when the tombstone was put up in Lvov to honor the deceased former rav of the city (who was not buried there), they simply got the date of death wrong. Interestingly, Shlomo Tal accepted the statements of Carmoly and R. Dembitzer, and in summarizing their position speaks of “many fictitious tombstones.”[10]

Dembitzer also makes the astounding assertion that there are graves in the Lvov cemetery for rabbis who never existed! His proof is that there is a tombstone for a Rabbi Eliezer ben Moshe ha-Kohen Proops (פרופס), who is said to have been av beit din in Amsterdam before he came to Lvov. Yet R. Dembitzer states that no such person was av beit din in Amsterdam, and we thus see that the people who made the tombstones did so for rabbis who never existed![11]

כי גם זאת לפנים בלבוב, להקים ג”כ מצבות אבנים ולחקוק עליהם שמות חכמי ישראל אשר לא מתו ולא נקברו לא בלבוב, וגם לא במקומות אחרים, יען כי לא היו ולא נבראו ולא באו עוד לעולם . . . ומי לידינו יתקע אם לא עשו זכרונות במצבות אבנים כאלה גם לשאר גאונים אשר בדו מלבם וקראו בשמותם עלי אדמה, וקבעו גם כן זמן לפטירתם

This is a very strange assertion, and even if it is correct, it refers to one case only, while R. Dembitzer uses it to make a generalization. The only one I know who took note of R. Dembitzer’s assertions was R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira in a letter to R. Leopold Greenwald.[12] R. Shapira rejects R. Dembitzer’s claim in a very sharp tone.

ולא יאומן כי יסופר כי מרב גדול בתורה יצאו דברי הבל כאלו אשר כל השומע ויודע יצחק להם, ליתן מצבות ומקום בעד אותן שאינם נקברים שם ולכתוב שקר גמור “פ”נ” על להד”ם ולהשחית הקרקע שלא נקברו שם אין כדאי להטפל בדברי ריק כאלו. ואם בשביל קושיות שמצאו כמו ב’ מצבות כמו שני יוסף בן שמעון בשתי עיירות כלומר בתי קברות הנה שערי תירוצים לא ננעלו ונמצאו באמת שנים ששמותיהן שוות או לא העתיקו המצבות במקום אחד כראוי

Shapira makes the obvious point that two people with the same name can be buried in different cemeteries without them being the same person. However, this does not explain how there can be two tombstones for R. Petahiah, the son of R. David Lida, or how there can be a tombstone for another rabbi in the Lvov cemetery when we know that he was buried elsewhere.

Regarding what we have discussed, I would only add that in the new Jewish cemetery in Vienna (the same one that R. Israel Friedman, the Chortkover Rebbe, is buried in), there is a tombstone for three members of the Chevra Kadisha who perished in the Holocaust. While it looks like a normal grave, none of the three men mentioned on the tombstone are actually buried there.[13] Here is the tombstone.

I owe this information and the picture to Dr. Tim Corbett, whose book on the Jewish cemeteries of Vienna will hopefully soon be published.

Since I just mentioned R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira, let me mention something else he says that is fascinating. In the past two posts I discussed apostate rabbis. It is bad enough when an average person apostatizes, but for a rabbi to do so could have had terrible consequences on the community in that it could lead to many weak of heart to follow. Can anyone imagine, however, someone apostatizing as an act of teshuvah? It sounds crazy, but R. Shapira reported that he had it by tradition that such an incident happened in medieval times.[14]

The story he tells is that there was a popular preacher who in his public talks inserted all sorts of heretical ideas. After he was rebuked by one of the rabbis for preaching his heresies, the man confessed his sins and asked what he should do to repent. The rabbi told him that his repentance would not help, as for years he has gone from place to place spreading his heresy. How could he possibly repent for this? The rabbi said that what he must do is convert to Christianity. The Jewish world would then hear about this and this would remove the legitimacy from any of his sermons, as people would assume that even before his apostasy he was a heretic. Only by doing this could he destroy the impact he made with his earlier sermons.

Let me mention one final responsum for now. In the eighteenth century, R. Elijah Israel of Rhodes dealt with the case of someone who converted to Islam in Izmir, and then wished to come to Rhodes in order to return to Judaism.[15] Practicing Judaism after converting to Islam was illegal, and could endanger everyone in the community. The man was therefore warned not to come to Rhodes, where Muslim merchants might recognize him, but he ignored this warning. Making matters worse, the man had already once before converted to Islam and reverted to Judaism, meaning that there was no way that the Jewish community could have any dealings with him.

Israel permitted letting the authorities know about this man, as he was regarded as a danger to the community. The punishment for his “crime” of leaving Islam would have been severe and could even have included the death penalty, but R. Israel allowed informing the authorities as the man had the status of a rodef. He writes:

מי שמסכן רבים כגון שעוסק בזיופים במקום שהמלכיות מקפידות דינו כרודף ומותר למוסרו למלכות ע”כ וכ”ש וק”ו במי שהמיר דת ורוצה לחזור לדתו שההקפדה היא גדולה שהוא בזוי גדול לדעתם פן תצא כאש חמתם ח”ו ובערם ואין מכבה שמותר למוסרו כדי להציל את ישראל

* * * * * *

In the most recent issue of Dialogue 8 (2019), pp. 35-83, Rabbi Herschel Grossman published a lengthy review of my Limits of Orthodox Theology.[16] Normally I, like any author, would be very happy that so many years after a book’s appearance people are still interested in examining it and engaging with its arguments. Unfortunately, that is not the case with the present review which, it must be said, is nothing less than slanderous. Had the author taken issue with my interpretation of texts and shown why I am mistaken, this would have been a fine way to approach the book. It could be that I would even acknowledge that in some cases his understanding is preferable to mine. As readers of this blog know, I am perfectly willing to acknowledge when I have erred and am happy to credit those who called my attention to these errors. This is how scholarship is supposed to work, and anyone who writes, especially someone who writes a great deal using lots of different sources, will sometimes make a mistake. I myself have called attention to my own errors, without anyone prompting me, as I think it is important for all of us to be as exacting as we can.

However, this is not what the review is about, or, I should say, not what it is mainly about. In future posts I will come to the issue about how to interpret specific texts (and I will defend my readings), but first I must explain why I said that the review is slanderous. It is because Grossman accuses me of saying things that I never said, and throughout he misunderstands the purpose of the book, and of academic Jewish studies as a whole. In general, it is obvious from the review that although Grossman has never met me or even spoken to me, and I have never done him any wrong, he sees me as an enemy that he has to destroy.[17] With such a preconceived notion, it is no wonder that he comes to such incorrect conclusions as to what I am trying to say, and can write a review that is so mean-spirited and dripping with contempt. Based on e-mail correspondence with readers, I do not believe that anyone who has read the book will be taken in by the review’s distortions. However, those who haven’t read the book will probably come away with a false understanding, so it is important to clear this matter up before getting to any arguments over how to interpret particular sources.

Before going through the article itself, let’s look at the end where Grossman says that the book “falls short of its promise to prove that the Rambam was wrong in presenting his Principles as central to Judaism” (p. 83). I think everyone who has read the book knows that of all the things I try to do, one thing I do not do, and indeed it would have been incomprehensible to even imagine such a task, is attempt to prove that the Rambam was wrong. Even if I were a theologian, which I am not, I could not imagine myself ever trying to prove the Rambam (or R. Bahya, R. Saadiah, Ibn Ezra, etc. etc.) wrong. This is simply not how I operate.

The notion that I attempted to prove the Rambam wrong is so far from what I was trying to do in the book, that as mentioned, I don’t believe that anyone who actually read the book, or any of the other reviews, would have concluded as such. What they would have seen is that I try to show that the Rambam’s principles were disputed by others, and thus did not receive complete acceptance. I try to prove this point, but this is very different than trying to “prove that the Rambam was wrong.”

I don’t even know how one would be able to prove the Rambam, or any other Jewish thinker, “right or wrong” on theological matters. Is it possible to “prove” that creation was ex nihilo or from pre-existent matter, or can we ever “prove” that prayers should not be addressed to angels? Today, unlike in medieval times, most of us assume that by their very nature, theological discussions are not subject to “proof”. The most one can do is try to show which position makes more logical sense and is in line with biblical and rabbinic teachings.[18]

In his conclusion, Grossman also writes, in opposition to my supposed error, “that the Rambam’s Principles of Judaism remain the correct affirmation of Jewish belief.” Again, this sentence has nothing to do with my book, as it assumes that I claimed that the Rambam’s principles are incorrect. Had he understood what the book is about, and he wished to dispute with me, he would instead have written “that the Rambam’s Principles of Judaism are the generally accepted [or: halakhically binding, or: rabbinically sanctioned, etc.] affirmation of Jewish belief.”

Let us now start at the beginning. Grossman begins his review—and I will be going through it page by page responding to his attacks—by stating that “the academic approach to matters of Torah learning is radically different from that of the talmid chochom” (p. 36). This is an incorrect statement, as many followers of the academic approach are themselves talmidei hakhamim. What Grossman should have written is that the academic approach is different than the traditional approach. With regard to academic works, Grossman states: “Many of the conclusions of these works are at variance with accepted Torah teachings” (p. 35). No doubt that this is a true statement, but of course, the issue we will have to get into is what is the definition of “accepted Torah teachings.” As all readers of this blog are aware, R. Natan Slifkin’s books were banned because they were seen to be at variance with “accepted Torah teachings,” so the fundamental issue will be which teachings are supposedly accepted.

Grossman writes as follows in explaining the difference between a traditional Torah scholar and an academic scholar:

[For] the talmid chochom, a difficulty in the words of the authority creates a challenge for him to discover the true meaning of the authority. For many academics, a difficulty is proof that the authority is wrong (p. 36).

Grossman identifies me as one of the academics who try to show that an authority is wrong, so let us see whether this is indeed the case. He begins by stating about my book: “Its thrust is that the Rambam erred in codifying these Principles.” We have already seen this unbelievable distortion in his conclusion, as if one of my goals was to show that the Rambam was mistaken.

Grossman further states that “while some earlier scholars have disputed whether some of the Principles deserve to be listed as basic to Judaism . . . all have conceded that the tenets expressed by the Principles are correct” (p. 36). This statement is grossly inaccurate, as virtually every page of my book demonstrates (and in various blog posts I have also cited numerous authorities who disagree with certain of Maimonides’ principles).[19] Even if all of Grossman’s criticisms of particular points of mine are correct (and I will come back to this), it still leaves loads of sources at odds with the Rambam. The sentence is nothing less than shocking, since rather than acknowledging that other authorities disagreed with certain Principles of the Rambam, but claiming that these authorities’ views are to be rejected for one reason for another, Grossman states that “all have conceded” that the Rambam’s views are correct. It is hard to know how to reply to such a statement that completely disregards the truth that everyone can see with their own eyes.

In Limits, p. 26, I quoted the following from R. Bezalel Naor, who was repeating what he heard from R. Shlomo Fisher: “The truth, known to Torah scholars, is that Maimonides’ formulation of the tenets of Jewish belief is far from universally accepted.” R. Naor informed me that R. Fisher made this statement in explaining R. Judah he-Hasid’s view about post-Mosaic additions to the Torah. In other words, R. Judah he-Hasid’s view is not in line with Maimonides’ Principles, but this is not the only such example of Torah sages diverging from the Principles.

Grossman continues by stating that I conclude “that the Rambam’s formulation of the underlying beliefs of Judaism was his own innovation” (pp. 36-37). What does this sentence mean? Apparently, he wants the reader to think that I said that the Rambam just invented his Principles out of thin air, which is of course incorrect as I never said this. If the meaning is that the very notion of a list of doctrines formulated as Principles of Faith, with all that this entails, was the Rambam’s innovation, there is nothing controversial about this at all, and I discuss whether the Rambam was the first to do this and what led him to do so.

Grossman continues: “Even such basic tenets as the belief in God’s unity, or in God’s non-corporeality, says Shapiro, are the Rambam’s own assertions and subject to dispute, with no firm basis in the Torah or in Chazal” (p. 37). I never say that these tenets are the Rambam’s own assertion without any prior basis (as if the Rambam invented these ideas). When it comes to the belief in God’s unity, I state explicitly that no Jewish teacher has ever disputed this (although how they understood God’s “unity” was subject to dispute). As for God’s incorporeality, I will come back to this in greater detail in a later post, where I will also deal with R. Isaiah ben Elijah of Trani’s claim that divine incorporeality is not a principle of faith, as well as Maimonides’ view that in its simple meaning (but only in its simple meaning), the Torah itself teaches God’s corporeality (for the benefit of those people who at the beginning of their studies are not able to understand the profound concept of a deity without form). Since I will then analyze this matter in great detail, I do not want to get into it here. For now, I will simply say that in the book I discussed whether divine incorporeality was accepted by all Jews at all times, and if corporeal views of God can be found in the Talmud (as was stated by R. Isaiah ben Elijah of Trani).

On p. 37 Grossman writes:

Shapiro, who mocks the opinions of Rabbeynu Nissim, R. Moshe Feinstein, Chazon Ish, Arizal, and R. Ya’akov Emden, among others, goes one step beyond Kellner in his belief that he, Shapiro, is better able than Rambam to interpret explicit verses of the Torah (as we shall see below).

This is nothing less than slander since I never, not even once, mock the opinions of any of these great rabbis or anyone else. When I read this sentence, I had no clue what he was talking about, as this is not how I operate, and was shocked when I went to the sources he refers to. Let us look at what Grossman regards as “mocking”.

For my mocking of R. Nissim, he refers the reader to p. 84 in my book where I write that R. Nissim “puts forth the strange and original position that there is one particular angel before whom prostration is permitted.” This is mocking?[20]

For my “mocking” of R. Moshe Feinstein’s opinions he provides three sources.

On p. 101 n. 73, I discuss R. Moshe’s rejection of the authenticity of a passage in Avot de-Rabbi Nathan. I write that R. Moshe’s “rejection of the authenticity of this passage should be viewed as part of his pattern of discarding sources that do not fit in with his understanding. He does so even when the sources are neither contradicted by other writings of the authors involved nor by other versions of the text in question.” Where is the mocking?

On p. 157, I write: “Although R. Moses Feinstein was the greatest posek of his time, he seems to have had no knowledge of Maimonidean philosophy. He was therefore able to state that Maimonides believed in the protective power of holy names and the names of angels, as used in amulets.” Where is the mocking?[21]

The last source where I am said to be mocking R. Moshe’s opinion is p. 159 of my book. Here is the page.

All I do here is cite R. Moshe’s comment about those who oppose kollels by citing the Rambam. I have also seen R. Moshe quoted as saying that it is noteworthy that those who oppose kollels based on the Rambam only adopt this one “humra” of the Rambam. The Rambam has lots of other humrot, yet people don’t adopt these stringencies. They only want to be “mahmir” in accordance with the Rambam so as not to support kollels. To say that I am mocking R. Moshe’s opinion is not only slander, it is completely incomprehensible.

Regarding the Hazon Ish, Grossman refers to p. 17. On this page I mention the views of many who held that the Thirteen Principles are the fundamentals of Judaism, and I include a passage from the Hazon Ish. I don’t see any mocking.[22] He also refers to p. 65 n. 124, where I mention a number of sages, including the Hazon Ish, who say that the Rambam’s view that belief in divine corporeality is heresy (Hilkhot Teshuvah 3:7) does not refer to someone who does not know any better, and thus the Rambam is not in dispute with Rabad who criticizes the Rambam on precisely this point. In response to those authorities who made this argument, I wrote: “They obviously never saw Guide I, 36, cited above, p. 48.” In this source, Maimonides specifically rejects the notion argued by the Hazon Ish and others that Maimonides is not speaking of the person who does not know any better. In fact, R. Kafih goes so far as to say, in his commentary to Hilkhot Teshuvah 3:7, that Maimonides saw Rabad’s comment and Guide 1:36 was written specifically in response to it, in order that people not assume that Rabad’s position can be regarded as theologically sound.

Regarding R. Isaac Luria, Grossman points to p. 90, where I write:

Finally, I must mention R. Isaac Luria’s view that Moses’ understanding of divine matters was inferior to that of certain kabbalists (including himself!). This notion is elaborated upon by R. Shneur Zalman of Lyady (1745-1813), who asks, “’How did Rabbi Isaac Luria, of blessed memory, apprehend more than he, and expound many themes dealing with the highest and most profound levels [penimiyut], even of many Sefirot.”

Again, I don’t know where there is any mocking. Incidentally, a reader has made a very good case that I am incorrect, and R. Isaac Luria and R. Shneur Zalman should not be cited as opposing Maimonides’ principle. In a future post, I will present this argument, which R. Chaim Rapoport told me he agrees with.

Regarding R. Emden, Grossman refers the reader to p. 16 n. 63. Nowhere in this note do I mock an opinion of R. Emden. What I do say is that his sexuality was complex. In retrospect, I regret including this comment, since it is not really relevant to the matter at hand. Yet there is no question that when it comes to sexual matters, there is something very much out of the ordinary, especially for rabbinic greats, in how R. Emden writes about these things. This is something that I believe is acknowledged by everyone who has studied R. Emden’s writings, including the most haredi among us, even if they won’t put such statements in writing. Mortimer Cohen, in his book on R. Emden, famously pointed to sexuality to explain how R. Emden could have attacked R. Eybeschütz the way he did, with such outrageous accusations. Still, I believe that Jacob J. Schacter is correct when he states: “[W]hile it is clear that Emden had a complex and contentious personality, all this emphasis on his sexuality is really irrelevant to his attack on Eybeschütz.”[23] I for one am not comfortable with psychological interpretations, even if in this case such an interpretation can be used as a limud zekhut for some of the shocking things R. Emden says, and if I was writing the book now I would leave out the passage mentioned above. Yet where is the mocking? The only mocking I see is how Grossman continuously mocks me.

Grossman writes: “Shapiro does not refrain from adducing explicit Talmudic passages as contradictions to the Rambam, presuming that the Rambam overlooked or ignored them, something which innumerable Talmudic scholars in past centuries have considered inconceivable” (pp. 37-38). In the book I never say that the Rambam overlooked talmudic passages. I do say that he did not accept the outlook of every talmudic passage (which Grossman terms, “ignored them”). The Rambam famously held that not every passage in the non-halakhic sections of the Talmud is binding.

Grossman continues:

Shapiro is unimpressed by all these arguments; nor is he averse to dismissing Rambam’s opinion based on his, Shapiro’s, own reading of a Talmudic passage, even where there is no doubt that the Rambam had a different reading for it. An academic, he obviously feels, is privileged to interpret the Talmud better than the Rambam was [!], even where this presumption leads to bizarre conclusions (p. 38).

The only thing that is bizarre here is Grossman’s statement, for I can assure everyone that in the book I do not engage in talmudic debate with the Rambam, dismiss the Rambam’s opinion, and think that I am able to interpret the Talmud better than the Rambam. If someone offers, say, a new interpretation of a talmudic passage, does this mean he thinks he can interpret the Talmud better than Rashi or the Rambam?

Another false statement is found on p. 38 where Grossman states: “Although he is to be commended for the amount of research he has invested into his work—the citations he has amassed are voluminous—it seems that many of the references were culled from secondary sources without examining the originals.” I can state with absolute certainty—and other than Grossman, I don’t think anyone else has ever raised such an accusation of scholarly malpractice—that I have examined every original source cited in the book. Not only that, but I have examined every source in every book I have published and in every blog post. I have never cited a source that I have not examined “inside” unless I indicate so. This does not mean that I have never misinterpreted a source, and in subsequent posts I will examine some examples where Grossman offers a different reading. But for now, suffice it to say that it is nothing less than slander to state that I included sources in the book that I did not examine myself (and this, by the way, was before the existence of the various digital databases. Librarians at JTS and YU can remember me as I was constantly there during the time I was writing the book.)

The final point for now is Grossman’s conclusion of the first part of his review:

To analyze the errors in this book would require a book in itself, nor is this the purpose of this article. The purpose is to show the lack of basis for Shapiro’s assertions (1) that the Rambam’s Principles have no basis in Talmudic literature; (2) that he created these Principles either to advance his philosophic conclusions or for polemic purposes; and (3) that many authorities thought the Principles “were wrong, pure and simple” (p. 38).

Point 1 is incorrect. I never state that the Rambam’s Principles have no basis in talmudic literature. Every single one of the Principles can find support in the Talmud (even if others might disagree with how to interpret the talmudic passages), and I cite examples of this in the book. What I do say is that the concept of Principles of Faith put forth by Maimonides, that one can commit endless sins but if he believes in the Principles he is still a Jew in good standing (albeit a sinning Jew) with a share in the World to Come, and if he denies or doubts even one of the Principles, even if he did not know any better and even if he fulfilled all the mitzvot, he does not have a share in the World to Come, such a concept is not found in talmudic literature. I am hardly the first to say this. Many of the Rambam’s rabbinic critics made this point, and as far as I know, all of the academic scholars who have studied the Rambam have said likewise. Furthermore, even if there are talmudic sources for the substance of Rambam’s Principles, this does not mean that there is compelling talmudic sources to explain why the Rambam categorized these particular beliefs as Principles, denial of which is heresy. Often, we must look to his philosophical assumptions, which he regarded as part and parcel of Torah, to explain why he raised certain beliefs to the level of Principles while others did not. We must also look to his philosophical assumptions to understand why he read certain talmudic passages the way he did, and was thus led to formulate his Principles in a certain fashion.

I would also like readers to examine the following statement by the rabbinic scholar, R. Reuven Amar.[24] Based on what Grossman writes, I assume that he will regard this as equally blasphemous to anything I have written.

דאם כי ודאי אין חכמת הרמב”ם ז”ל כשאר בעלי החכמה ובעלי הדעה וגדולה חכמתו ושיעור קומתו ולבו רחב כאולם בכל חכמה ומדע מ”מ בעיקרי האמונה אין דבריו כמפי הגבורה אחר שלא קיבלם איש מפי איש עד משה רבינו ע”ה כי אם משיקול דעתו ובינתו וכפי שהודה וכתב בעצמו בהקדמת ח”ג מהמורה נבוכים, בענין מעשה המרכבה ומעשה בראשית ועיין בזה במגדל עוז פ”א מיסודי התורה ה”י וכן ראיתי בספר שומר אמונים (להרב ר’ יוסף אירגס זצ”ל) בויכוח ראשון סעיף ח’ ט’ שהתבסס על זה

Regarding point 2, Grossman sees it as problematic to say that the Rambam created the Principles to advance his philosophical conclusions. Yet this is a perfectly reasonable approach. After all, wouldn’t the Rambam want the Jewish people to hold philosophical truths, and what better way to achieve this than to put these truths in the form of Principles of Faith that everyone has to know? This approach is commonly held among scholars of the Rambam. As for the accusation that I say that the Rambam created the Principles for polemical purposes, I never say that with regard to the Principles as a whole. I do say this about aspects of two of the Principles, and I will return to this in a future post. The fact that I am being attacked on this matter is ironic, as my approach is actually more conservative than what is found in almost all works of modern scholarship on the Rambam.

As for point 3, I do not say that “many authorities thought the Principles” were wrong. What I do say is that many authorities thought that individual Principles were mistaken. By writing “the Principles,” Grossman leads readers to think that I said that many authorities rejected the Principles in their entirety, but all readers of my book know that this is not the case.[25]

I want to conclude with the following from R. Mordechai Willig, which has some relevance to my discussion and which I think readers will find of interest.[26] R. Willig’s entire shiur is worth listening to, but for the purpose of this post I only want to cite one small section.

As we know, not all the Ikrei Emunah were etched in stone without any dispute from the beginning of time. . . . Are in fact the Rambam’s Thirteen Principles accepted le-halakhah for the last X hundred of years and you can’t go against it, or perhaps not? There are those therefore who are trying to get around certain of his Ikrim. The Sefer of Albo himself who wrote the Sefer Ikrim didn’t accept all the Thirteen of the Rambam. One might argue that we don’t really find anywhere to my knowledge significant dispute about the other Ikrim of the Rambam, but perhaps not all Thirteen were accepted, but we’ll call [it] Twelve and a Half. The first part of Ikkar number 5 was accepted, and the second part which is so complex, perhaps it never really was accepted. So there are Thirteen Principles but one of them, number 5, we only accept part of the Principle, not the entirety of the Principle. . . . It’s against the Rambam, but this half of that Principle was never accepted. But the rest was accepted.

In the next post I will continue with my response (and it looks like it will take many posts before I am finished, unless I first tire of this endeavor).

---

[1] Sipurim me-ha-Hayyim: Kitzur Shivhei ha-Ben Ish Hai (Jerusalem, 2009), p. 47.
[2] See here.
[3] See e.g., here.
[4] See R. Kaduri, Divrei Yitzhak, pp. 173-174.
[5] See here.
[6] See here.
[7] Yorma Bilu, Saints’ Impresarios: Dreamers, Healers, and Holy Men in Israel’s Urban Periphery, trans. Haim Watzman (Brighton, MA, 2010), p. 65.
[8] “Perek be-Hithavut ha-‘Olam ha-Torah’ be-Artzot ha-Berit le-Ahar ha-Milhamah,” Hakirah 26 (2019), pp. 31-52.
[9] See, however, Solomon Buber, Anshei Shem (Crakow, 1895), pp. 28-29, who is skeptical.
[10] Peri Hayyim (Tel Aviv, 1983), p. 149.
[11] Kelilat Yofi, pp. 41a-b. See also Buber, Anshei Shem, p. 32.
[12] Greenwald, Otzar Nehmad, p. 117.
[13] There is also a section of this cemetery where hundreds of Christians are buried. The Nazis refused to allow these people to be buried elsewhere as under the Nuremberg Laws they were regarded as Jewish (and halakhically, some of these people would indeed have been Jewish).
[14] Shapira, Divrei Torah, vol. 5, no. 27.
[15] Ugat Eliyahu (Livorno, 1730), no. 22
[16] Limits appeared in 2004. I wonder if it is only very negative reviews that come out so long after a book’s appearance. Another example is Haym Soloveitchik’s review of Isadore Twersky’s revised edition of Rabad of Posquiéres. The book appeared in 1980 and the review appeared in 1991. See Soloveitchik, “History of Halakhah – Methodological Issues: A Review essay of I. Twersky’s Rabad of Posquiéres,” Jewish History 5 (Spring 1991), pp. 75-124.
[17] Grossman did correspond with me and ask me questions which I tried to the best of my ability to answer. He also challenged some of what I said in his emails to me. Yet I have to say that I am quite hurt that he was not honest with me in this correspondence. On July 16, 2018, he began his correspondence with me by telling me that he was writing an article on the Thirteen Principles. In this email he also said that my book was well-written. (Buttering me up, I guess.) On July 17 he wrote to me: “Thank you for your communication! You are helping me tremendously.” I guess I was helping him to bury me. Also on this day he wrote to me about his article: “maybe you can help me with the writing!” I am sorry to see now that this was all part of a grand deception on his part.

In his email to me of October 11, 2018, Grossman wrote that he completed his article on the Thirteen Principles, “and have cited you in a few places.” Is this how an honest scholar operates, by deceiving the person he has been emailing with? I responded to his questions and explained how I view things, as I do with anyone who contacts me. I would have done the same thing had he been honest with me and told me that he was writing an article devoted to disputing my ideas. His friendly demeanor in his emails led me to assume that we were engaged in a form of scholarly collaboration in trying to understand important texts and ideas. So imagine my surprise to see that contrary to what he wrote to me that he cited me “in a few places,” the entire review is an attempt to tear me down. Furthermore, Grossman has been telling people that he wants his article to destroy my reputation as a scholar. What type of person treats his fellow Jew in this fashion?
[18] In a wide-ranging article which deals among other things with R. Kook’s view of heresy, the important scholar R Yoel Bin-Nun explains why R. Kook rejected the Rambam’s approach to heresy. R. Bin Nun also states that if you take what the Rambam says seriously, the Rambam himself, if he were alive today and saw how theological matters are no longer regarded as subject to conclusive proofs, would not regard people who disagreed with his Principles as heretics. In R. Bin Nun’s words (emphasis added):

שיטת הרמב”ם ברורה: יסוד שתלוי באמונה, ואין בו הוכחה שכלית, וכל החכמים מתווכים עליו, אי אפשר להגדיר את מי שאינו מאמין בו כ”כופר” או כ”מין”. עצם העובדה שהדבר נתון בוויכוח שכלי בין החכמים מאפשר ומחייב לבנות את עולם האמונה, אך אינו מאפשר לשפוט ולדון את הכופרים. רק ודאות שכלית מוחלטת מאפשרת לדון אדם כמזיד בשאלות של אמונה וידיעה

“Kahal Shogeg u-Mi she-Hezkato Shogeg o To’eh: Hiloniyim ve-Hiloniyut be-Halakhah,” Akdamot 10 (2000), p. 263.

In other words, according to R. Bin-Nun, based on the Rambam himself there is no justification today for calling people heretics because they reject one (or more) of the Thirteen Principles. (When he refers to hakhamim disputing matters, he is not referring to Torah scholars, but the general scientific-intellectual world.) Whether R. Bin Nun is correct in his analysis of the Rambam is not my purpose at present (and I do not find his position compelling). I only wish to show that this outstanding scholar presents a very tolerant view, one that rejects the Thirteen Principles as determining who is a heretic. I wonder, though, how far he would take this. Lots of scientists and philosophers argue for atheism, and there is no absolute proof for God’s existence. Does this mean that now even atheists are not to be regarded as heretics?
[19] For one example, R. Pinhas Lintop, see here. I write as follows in this post:

Naor calls attention to R. Lintop’s view of Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles. Unfortunately, I did not know of this when I wrote my book on the subject. R. Lintop is no fan of Maimonides’ concept of dogma or of Maimonides’ intellectualism in general. He rejects the notion that otherwise pious Jews can be condemned as heretics merely because they don’t accept Maimonides’ principles. He even makes the incredible statement that of the great rabbis, virtually all of them have, at the very least, been in doubt about one fundamental principle.

הנה לא הניח בן לאברהם . . . כמעט אין אחד מראשי חכמינו, החכמים הצדיקים כו’ כו’, אשר לא יטעה או יסתפק באחד משרשי הדת

Are we to regard them all as heretics? Obviously not, which in R. Lintop’s mind shows the futility of Maimonides’ theological exercise, which not only turned Judaism into a religion of catechism, but also indoctrinated people to believe that one who does not affirm certain dogmas is to be persecuted. According to R. Lintop, this is a complete divergence from the talmudic perspective.

Lintop further states that there is no point in dealing with supposed principles of faith that are not explicit in the Talmud.

הגידה נא, אחי, בלא משוא פנים, היש לנו עוד פנים לדון על דבר עקרים ויסודות את אשר לא נזכרו לנו בהדיא במשנה וגמרא?

As for Maimonides’ view that one who is mistaken when it comes to principles of faith is worse than one who actually commits even the worst sins, R. Lintop declares that “this view is very foreign to the spirit of the sages of the Talmud, who did not know philosophy.” As is to be expected, he also cites Rabad’s comment that people greater than Maimonides were mistaken when it came to the matter of God’s incorporeality.

[20] In R. Meir Mazuz’s recent Bayit Ne’eman, no. 196 (13 Shevat 5780), p. 2, he writes about the Ralbag:

וזו הסיבה שרלב”ג פירש דברים מוזרים

Does this mean that R. Mazuz was mocking Ralbag? R. Joseph Zechariah Stern writes (Zekher Yehosef, Even ha-Ezer, no. 61, p. 237):

ועיקר דברי חוט השני הוא נגד סוגיא דעלמא . . . ואשר בכלל דבריו זרים

Was R. Stern mocking anyone?

Eliezer Waldenberg writes about R. Abraham Halevi, author of Ginat Veradim (Tzitz Eliezer, vol. 8, no. 15, p. 80):

כי בתוך דברי התשובה שם וכן בתוך דברי התשובה שלפניה יש שם ג”כ דבריו [!] מוזרים מאד שכמעט קשה לשומעם

Was R. Waldenberg mocking anyone? And what about when rabbis use even harsher language, saying things like אינו נכון כלל? Does this mean that they are mocking the view they are rejecting? Everyone who studies rabbinic literature knows that nothing could be further from the truth. Stating that a view is strange or unusual, and even rejecting a view in harsh terms, has nothing to do with mocking.
[21] That rabbinic scholars often do not study Maimonides’ philosophy is nothing new. R. Jacob Emden noted that if the rabbinic scholars knew philosophy, they would have protested Maimonides’ proof for God’s existence in Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Yesodei ha-Torah 1:5, as it is based on the eternity of the world. See Birat Migdal Oz (Warsaw, 1912), p. 20a:

כי הנה המופת הראשון שעשה ע”ז הדרוש בח”ב מס’ [מספרו] הנ”ל מתנועה נצחית תדיר’ (והיא שמצאה חן בעיניו והציגה לבדה עמנו פה בס’ המדע) לקוחה מאריסטו מניח הקדמות, לא יודה בה בעל הדת שהיא בנויה על פנת החדוש. לו ידעו הרבנים התלמודיים בפילוסיפיא לא היו שותקים לו בכאן

[22] Perhaps the “mocking” he sees is the beginning of the paragraph where I write:

To return to the point already mentioned above, if there is one thing Orthodox Jews the world over acknowledge, it is that Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles are the fundamentals of Jewish faith. The common knee-jerk reaction is that there is room for debate in matters of faith, as long as one does not contradict any of these principles.

I then cite a number of great figures who speak of the centrality of the Thirteen Principles (including the Hazon Ish). I used the expression “knee-jerk” as synonymous with “instinctive,” but even stronger, in that the reaction to any divergence from the Principles is strong and immediate, coming from a place of feeling which is prior to any intellectual reaction. Needless to say, there is no mocking.

Regarding statements about the centrality of the Thirteen Principles, let me repeat what I have said elsewhere, and which I will return to in future posts, that the expression “the Thirteen Principles” is more of a shorthand statement about correct belief rather than an affirmation of the Principles themselves in all of their particulars. To give an example of what I mean, it is easy to find statements of rabbis stating that one should not engage with ideas or texts that diverge from the Thirteen Principles. This is a shorthand way of saying that you should not study heresy. However, when the rabbis say that you should not study matters that diverge from the Principles, do any of them mean that you should not study Rashi’s commentary to Deuteronomy 34:5, as it presents a talmudic view about the authorship of the final verses of the Torah that is in opposition to Maimonides’ Eighth Principle? Certainly not, which shows that what Torah scholars mean when they speak of the “Thirteen Principles” is not necessarily what the masses understand by this.
[23] “Rabbi Jacob Emden: Life and Major Works” (unpublished doctoral dissertation, Harvard University, 1988)), p. 409.
[24] Re’ah Besamim, p. 40, appendix to his edition of Besamim Rosh (Jerusalem, 1984). Among R. Amar’s other works, mention should be made of his five volume Minhagei ha-Hida.
[25] In Limits, p. 4, I refer to “those scholars who thought that Maimonides’ Principles were wrong.” While in the context of the book, everyone knew that I meant “certain of Maimonides’ Principles” (namely, the ones I discuss), now that I see how the sentence could be misused by being quoted out of context, I wish that I had been more exacting in my language.
[26] See his shiur, “Selichos: Halacha, Hashkafa and Teshuva,” available here, at minute 45:30.