1

The 1526 Prague Haggadah and its Illustrations

|
The 1526 Prague Haggadah and its Illustrations
By ELIEZER BRODT

This piece was originally printed in Ami Magazine’s Kunteres 9 Nisan 5777 – April 5, 2017

The topic perhaps most written about in Jewish literature is the Haggadah shel Pesach. There are many kinds in many languages and with all kinds of pirushim and pictures. Whatever style one can think of, not one but many Haggados have been written—be it on derush, kabbalah, halachah, mussar or chassidus. There are people who specialize in collecting Haggados, even though they don’t regularly collect sefarim. In every Jewish house today one can find many kinds of Haggados. Over the years, various bibliographers collected and listed the various Haggados. In 1997, Yitzchak Yudolov printed The Haggadah Thesaurus, which contains an extensive bibliography of Haggados from the beginning of printing until 1960. The final number in his bibliography listing is 4,715! Of course, many more have been printed since 1960. New Haggados are printed every single year. Even people who never wrote chiddushim on the Haggadah have had one published under their name based on their collected writings. When one goes to the sefarim store before Pesach, it has become the custom to buy at least one, although it is very easy to become overwhelmed, not knowing which to pick.
The one I would like to focus on in this article was printed in Prague in 1526.[1] The Prague  edition of the Haggadah is considered by experts to be one of the most important illustrated Haggados ever published. It is perhaps the earliest printed[2] illustrated Haggadah for a Jewish audience, and it served as a model for many subsequent illustrated Haggados. Some insist that it is the greatest single Haggadah ever printed. “Certainly it is one of the chief glories in the annals of Hebrew printing as a whole and for that matter in the history of typography in any language.”[3] Printing came to Prague in 1487 (around 40 years after its invention), and the first Hebrew book was printed there in 1518. The Prague 1526 edition was published by the brothers Gershom (Cohen) and Gronom Katz on Sunday, 26 Teves 5287 or December 30, 1526.[4]
This Haggadah contains many of the halachos of the Seder beginning with bedikas chametz, a collection of pirushim on various parts of the Haggadah, and 60 illustrations made from woodcuts. However, we do not know who authored these halachos and divrei Torah (which are full of interesting ideas). The halachos written here are very significant, as they were written and printed before the Shulchan Aruch. The illustrations are also significant, as they had a tremendous impact on the illustrated Haggados printed afterward.
I would like to discuss some of the interesting things we can learn about the Seder and Haggadah via this Haggadah and some of its illustrations.
The first general question is why they chose to illustrate the Haggadah. Who was their intended audience? Various people who studied this Haggadah have debated this issue,[5] but to me it’s pretty clear that it had to do with one of the most important parts of the Seder night—the special audience—the children. This was a tool to help enable us to fulfil the important obligation of v’higadeta l’vincha. Last year, in an article in this magazine, I outlined many customs done during the Seder with the underlying theme to get the children “into” the Seder. One of the best ways to get kids “into” it is via visual aids, showing them pictures or acting out certain things.  Simply reciting the Haggadah and just saying “some Torah” is not as effective. It would seem to me that this was their intention when they illustrated the Haggadah. It could be that some of the pictures were to lighten it up for the adults too, as I will soon explain.
The significance of this point is that Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, zt”l, raises possible issues with looking at illustrated Haggados on Pesach based on the halachos in the Shulchan Aruch (307:15) dealing with reading captions of images on Shabbos.[6]
If we are correct that the purpose is to educate the children, it might be a possible reason to permit looking at these images. To be sure, some of the Haggados with images were printed with the involvement of great gedolim, such as the illustrated 1590 Prague Haggadah, which had a kitzur of the Zevach Pesach of the Abarbanel written by Rav Yitzchak Chayis (1538-1610).
If we are correct that the purpose is to educate the children, it might be a possible reason to permit looking at these images. To be sure, some of the Haggados with images were printed with the involvement of great gedolim, such as the illustrated 1590 Prague Haggadah, which had a kitzur of the Zevach Pesach of the Abarbanel written by Rav Yitzchak Chayis (1538-1610).
Just to emphasize the significance of visual aids when learning, in a haskamah for a work about shechitah that was written but never printed, the Aderes stresses the benefit of the numerous diagrams and illustrations of animals in the book for the understanding of the various complex halachos of shechitah.[7]
Similarly, Rav Belsky dissected an animal on video to give a visual aid for those learning Maseches Chulin. It is also related that when the Minsker Gadol, Rav Yerucham Perlman, zt”l (1835-1896), first became rav he made it his business to go to the head shochet of the city to learn all the aspects of animals for the laws of treifos and the like. The shochet asked him how he could possibly teach the rav anything. The Minsker Gadol replied, “It’s one thing to learn the halachos in sefarim, but when it comes to psak halachah one needs to know the exact aspects as they are on the actual animal.[8]
Additionally, there is a great benefit for us to analyze the pictures nowadays, as it can give us a glimpse into how they conducted the Seder in those days.
Halachos
One of the first parts of the Seder is the eating of karpas. Nowadays, for the most part, the custom is for the children to say, “We wash our hands, but we don’t say the brachah for this washing.” In the instructions to the Prague Hagadah it says to say the brachah for washing.[9] In fact, there are a number of Rishonim who say that one should say the brachah of al netilas yadayim.
Who pours the wine?
After saying Ha Lachma Anya the cups of wine are refilled. There is a picture of someone refilling the wine with a caption stating that the servant should refill the wine. The Rama in Darchei Moshe says that the person who is conducting the Seder should not fill the cups of wine; rather, someone else should do it for him.[10] This would appear to be an earlier writter source with the same idea.[11] Interestingly enough, the Aruch Hashulchan writes that we do not do this. The leader can pour the wine for himself, and there is no reason that his wife should have to pour for him.[12] Rav Yitzchak Chayis writes in Siach Yitzchak—which is a halachic work about the Seder night first printed in Prague in 1587—that one should train his six or seven-year-old child to do this mitzvah.[13] Perhaps another minhag related to this statement of the Rama is that the one leading the Seder does not get up to wash his hands; rather, the water is brought to him.[14]
Pouring out the wine for the Ten Makkos
 
After saying Ha Lachma Anya the cups of wine are refilled. There is a picture of someone refilling the wine with a caption stating that the servant should refill the wine. The Rama in Darchei Moshe says that the person who is conducting the Seder should not fill the cups of wine; rather, someone else should do it for him.[10] This would appear to be an earlier writter source with the same idea.[11] Interestingly enough, the Aruch Hashulchan writes that we do not do this. The leader can pour the wine for himself, and there is no reason that his wife should have to pour for him.[12] Rav Yitzchak Chayis writes in Siach Yitzchak—which is a halachic work about the Seder night first printed in Prague in 1587—that one should train his six or seven-year-old child to do this mitzvah.[13] Perhaps another minhag related to this statement of the Rama is that the one leading the Seder does not get up to wash his hands; rather, the water is brought to him.[14]
Another minhag found in this Haggadah is the famous custom of dipping the fingers into the wine when saying the Ten Makkos. In this section of the Haggadah there is an illustration of someone dipping his finger into his cup and there is also a caption under the picture stating that some dip with the pinky, followed by a reason for this custom.[15]
The earliest known source for this minhag can be found in a drashah of the Rokei’ach, recently printed from a manuscript by Professor Simcha Emanuel.[16] But this source speaks about dipping the index finger. The Rama also writes to dip the index finger. Interestingly, the Magen Avraham says to dip with the kemitzah, which is the ring finger.
Walking with a sack on the back
There a few places in the Haggadah, such as near the paragraph of B’chol dor vador, where we find an illustration of someone walking with a sack (of matzah) on his back. The source for this can be found in some of the Rishonim and early Acharonim. After mentioning breaking the matzah in their description of Yachatz they add that the leader of the Seder puts it on his shoulders and walks with it for a bit; others do this only later on when they eat the afikoman.[17]
Eliyahu Hanavi coming to the Seder
I traced the sources for this in a previous article in Ami Magazine. When discussing the sources for this, Rabbi Sperber notes[18] that in a few of the illustrated Haggados there are pictures of a man on a donkey near Shefoch Chamascha. In some of them he is being led by someone else; for example, in the Prague Haggadah of 1526.
I also noted that Rabbi Yuzpeh Shamash writes that mazikin run away from any place where Eliyahu’s name is mentioned. He says that because of this some make a picture of Eliyahu and Moshiach for the children, so that the children seeing it will say “Eliyahu,” causing the mazikin to disappear.[19] This could indicate that the illustrations were shown specifically to the children, as I claimed earlier.
Nusach of the Haggadah
The actual nusach of the Haggadah is its own large topic, starting from the Gemara and moving onward to manuscripts and discussions among the poskim. In the beginning of the Haggadah we begin with the famous Aramaic passage of Ha Lachma Anya. Much has been written about different aspects of this passage. One aspect is whether the exact nusach should be Ha Lachma Anya or K’ha Lachma Anya. The Rama quotes Rav Avraham of Prague, who says to specifically say Ha Lachma Anya and not K’ha Lachma Anya. The Maharal says the same. We see that two great sages from the city of Prague paskened that we should say Ha Lachma Anya.
Who was this Rav Avraham of Prague quoted by the Rama?
Rav Dovid Ganz (a talmid of the Maharal) writes in his historical work Tzemach Dovid that he was the rosh yeshivah and av beis din of Prague in the 1520s. He also authored some notes to the Tur, which were printed by Gershom (Cohen) Katz in Prague in 1540.[20] Thus, it is interesting that in the Haggadah the nusach was different from that of the av beis din of the city. Interestingly enough, his sons printed two more Haggados (1556 and 1590) in Prague and there too the nusach is different from that of Rav Avraham. Ultimately, the Magen Avraham concludes that whichever nusach one says is fine.[21]
What to use for maror
Another interesting picture is of the maror. In two places in the Haggadah the illustration used for maror is that of a lettuce—chasah. This is chazeret, which is the first of the five types enumerated in the Mishnah that one can use for maror.
There is a famous teshuvah from the Chacham Tzvi where he writes at length that this is the ideal item to be used for maror, as it’s the first in the list of the Mishnah.[22] We also find that the Netziv wrote a letter to his son, Rabbi Chaim Berlin, urging him to use it for maror instead of sharper vegetables, especially after fasting and drinking wine.[23] There are also numerous earlier illustrated manuscripts that show pictures of lettuce for the maror.[24]
More on maror
Speaking of maror, the inscription next to the picture is of great interest. It says, “There is a custom when saying maror that the man points to his wife, as it says ‘An evil wife is worse than death.’” Much has been written about this illustration. Some have written that it is ridiculous and there cannot be such a custom. On the other hand, Rabbi Wengrov and, more recently, Rabbi Yisroel Peles,[25] have demonstrated that there are pictures of a man pointing to his wife near the paragraph of maror in various illustrated Haggadah manuscripts. It is clear, however, as Rabbi Wengrov writes, that this was done in a joking manner to lighten up the Seder, but it isn’t serious, chas v’shalom. Rabbi Wengrov demonstrates that other pictures found in these Haggados show that the authors had a sense of humor and drew certain illustrations to lighten up the mood.[26]
Explanation via illustration
 
 
Some of the pictures in the Haggadah are to explain a particular passage. One such example is the image of the four sons. The tam is often translated as a derogatory term—the foolish son. However, the caption above the picture says, “Tamim tihyeh im Hashem” – always be complete with Hashem, which means that they understood the tam to be a man of piety.[27]
Omission
At the end of the Haggadah we conclude the Seder with a few songs, such as Echad Mi Yodei’a[28] and Chad Gadya. The authors and earliest sources for reciting them are unknown.[29] Rabbi Shemaryah Adler suggests that Chad Gadya may have been written by Daniel.[30] Rabbi Yedidyah Tiyah Weil writes in Marbeh L’sapeir on the Haggadah that he heard that these two songs were found in a manuscript from the beis midrash of Rav Elazar Rokei’ach. Numerous pirushim have been written about Chad Gadya, based on all the methods of learning Torah.[31] Be that as it may, many have noted that they are not found in this Haggadah. The first time they appear in print are in the Haggadah printed in Prague in 1590.
Another notable omission is the stealing of the afikoman. I wrote in the past in this magazine that one of the earliest sources in print can be found in the Siach Yitzchak, which mentions stealing the afikoman, but not in the same way as we do it nowadays.[32] It would seem that since no mention of it is made in the instructions of the 1526 Haggadah that it was not yet a widespread custom at that time.
Kiddush and Hunting
 

In the beginning of the Haggadah, on the bottom of the page of Kiddush, we find a mysterious picture of someone hunting hares with a horn and dogs. This picture can also be found in a bentcher printed by the Katz brothers in Prague a few years earlier. The question is obvious: What in the world does this have to do with Kiddush, especially as it is not a Jewish hobby? One of the answers suggested is that when Yom Tov occurs on Motzaei Shabbos we use an abbreviation known as Yaknehaz to remember the order in which to say Kiddush and Havdalah. The pronunciation of Yaknehaz is similar to jagen hasen, which is German for hunting hares, so this picture is meant to serve as a reminder of the abbreviation.[33]
Moreon Kiddush
Throughout the Haggadah there are illustrations of people holding cups of wine; sometimes the one holding the cup is dressed like a king. It would appear that this is to reflect the halachah to act like a king on the Seder night as part of the celebration of our freedom.
At other times the image is of an older man holding the cup either in his left hand or in his right. Rabbi Shaul Kook points out that some of the time it’s in the palm of his hand, which is the way it should be held according to various mekubalim, while at other times he holds the cup by its stem. He suggests that near the passage where Rabbi Elazar ben Azaryah says, “I am like someone who is 70 years old,” he is depicted as holding the cup in his left hand while stroking his white beard with the other to show that he’s really not that old.[34] At that point in the Haggadah one would not be holding the cup for the purpose of drinking one of the four kosos and that’s why he’s not holding it in his palm. Whereas in the pictures near where one would hold the cup for drinking he is holding it in the palm of his right hand. However, there is another picture on the page of Kiddush that is similar to the one of Rabbi Elazar holding the cup in his left hand and stroking his beard. Rabbi Kook says that this is because the printer was not educated and, not realizing the reasons for the difference, used the wrong woodcut.[35]
 
The problem with this is that the earliest source we have for holding the cup of wine specifically in the palm of the hand is in the Shalah HaKadosh, which was first printed in 1648—long after this Haggadah was printed.[36] It is, however, very possible that mistakes were made because printing with woodcuts is very difficult and confusing.
Sitting during Kiddush
Other customs that we can possibly learn from the illustration of Kiddush are that the person is both sitting and looking at the cup. These are also mentioned by various poskim in regard to the halachos for how Kiddush should be said.[37] There are other halachos of Kiddush that can perhaps be learned from these illustrations, but one has to be careful as to how much to “read into” them.
[1] On this Haggadah, see A. Yaari, Bibliography Shel Haggadot Pesach, p. 1. Y. Yudolov, Otzar Haggados, p. 2, # 7-8; the introduction to the 1965 reprint of this Haggadah; Yosef Yerushalmi, Haggadah and History, plate 13; Yosef Tabori, Mechkarim B’toldos Halachah (forthcoming), pp. 461-474. See especially the excellent work of Rabbi Charles Wengrov, Haggadah and Woodcut, (1967), which is completely devoted to this Haggadah. Another recent work devoted to this Haggadah was printed this year by R’ Yehoshua Goldberg, Haggadas Prague. Many thanks to my friend Dan Rabinowitz for the discussions about this Haggadah over the past few years. Here are two earlier posts by Dan on manucript Haggados and the 1526 Prague Haggadah: here and here. Thanks also to Mr. Yisroel Israel for his help with the images.
[2] As there are numerous illustrated manuscript haggadas.
[3] Yerushalmi, Haggadah and History, p. 30.
[4] This detailed publication information does not appear on the title page; rather, it appears at the end of the book in what is referred to as the colophon. On the printers see Chaim Friedberg, Toldos Hadefus Haivri, pp. 1-10. On various aspects about printing in these years in Prague, see Hebrew Printing in Bohemia and Moravia (Prague 2012).
[5] Richard Cohen, Jewish Icons, (1998), pp. 94-97; Chone Shmeruk, The Illustrations in Yiddish Books of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries (Heb. 1986).
[6] Halichos Shlomo (Pesach), pp. 267-268.
[7] Intro to Shu”t Ohel Yosef, 1903.
[8] Hagadol MiMinsk, p.51.
[9] Drashah L’Pesach L’Rabbi Elazar MiVermeiza, p. 96. See: Haggadah Shevivei Eish, p. 152; Y. Tabory, Pesach Dorot, pp. 216-244. See also what I wrote in my work Bein Kesse Le’assor, pp. 148-153.
[10] Darchei Moshe, 486:1.
[11] See also Siach Yitzchak (Brooklyn 2016), p. 241.
[12] Aruch Hashulchan, 473:6.
[13] Siach Yitzchak, p. 239, 252.
[14] Siach Yitzchak, p. 239.
[15] On this minhag see Zvi Ron, Our Own Joy is Lessened and Incomplete; The History of an Interpretation of Sixteen Drops of Wine at the Seder, Hakirah 19 (2015), pp. 237-255. I hope to return to this in the future.
[16] Drashah L’Pesach L’Rabbi Elazar MiVermeiza, p. 51, 101, 127.
[17] Rabbi Wengrov (above note 1), p. 60. See also Hanhagot HaMaharshal, pp. 10-11; Magen Avraham, 473:22; Chidushei Dinim MeiHilchos Pesach, p. 38. See Rabbi Chaim Benveniste, Pesach Me’uvin, 315; Vayageid Moshe, pp. 116-117.
[18] Minhagei Yisroel 4, pp. 168-170.
[19] Minhaghim Dik’hal Vermeiza, p. 86
[20] Tzemach Dovid, p. 139. See also Tzefunot 7 (1990) pp. 22-26.
[21] See also Siddur R’ Shabsei Sofer, 1, p. 5; Rabbi Yosef Zechariah Stern, Zecher Yosef, p. 4. [22] Chacham Tzvi, 119. On using this even though it is not bitter see also Dovid Henshke, Mah Nishtanah (2016), pp. 250-255, 215-220, 224-227, about Maror being bitter.
[23] Meromei Sadeh Pesachim 7b, See also Arthur Schaffer, History of Horseradish as the Bitter Herb of Passover, Gesher 8 (1981) pp. 217-237; Levi Cooper, Bitter Herbs in Hasidic Galicia, JSIJ 12 (2013), pp. 1-40; Z. Amar, Merorim, pp. 67-83. See also Rabbi Yehudah Spitz, Maror Musings, the not so bitter truth about Maror, Ami Magazine (2014), pp. 230-234.
[24] See Rabbi Wengrov (above note 1), p. 54. See also Rabbi Dovid Holtzer, Eitz Chaim 25 (2016), pp. 285-292.
[25] Hamaayan 51 (2011), pp. 11-14.
[26] On this and other pictures related to humor in the Haggadah see Rabbi Wengrov (above note  1),pp. 54-59.
[27] See also Rabbi Wengrov (abovenote 1), pp. 43-44; HaggadasMidrash B’chodesh (2015) of Rav Eliezer Foah (talmid of the Rama MiFano), p.135; R’ Elazer Fleckeles, Maaseh B’Rabbi Elazar, p. 63-64. See also Dovid Henshke, Mah Nishtanah (2016), pp. 358-359.
[28] See Rabbi Toviah Preshel, Kovetz Maamarei Tuviah 2, pp.64-65.
[29] See Chone Shmeruk, “The Earliest Aramaic and Yiddish Version of the Song of the Kid (Khad Gadye),” in The Field of Yiddish, 1 (New York 1954), pp. 214-218; Chone Shmeruk, Safrut Yiddish,pp. 40-42, 57-60; Asufot, 2 (1988), pp. 201-226; Rabbi Yisroel Dandrovitz, Eitz Chaim 23 (2015), pp. 400-416. Shimon Steinmetz discusses the origin of Chad Gadya here.
[30] Minchas Cohen, p. 73. Many thanks to my friend Rabbi Shalom Jacob for sending copies of this extremely rare work.
[31] Marbeh L’Sapeir, p. 140, 151. See also Rabbi Yosef Zechariah Stern in his Haggadah Zecher Yosef (p. 30), who writes that he did not find this piyut printed before the sefer Maasei Hashem. See also the Haggadah Shleimah ad. loc.; Assufot, vol 2 pp. 201-226; Mo’adim L’simcha vol. 5 ch. 11; Y. Tabory, Pesach Doros, pp. 341-342 and the note on pp 379.
[32] Siach Yitzchak, p. 21a. About this gaon see the introduction of Rabbi Adler in his recent edition of Pnei Yitzchak – Apei Ravrevi.
[33] See Rabbi Wengrov (above note 1), pp. 36-37.
[34] See Rabbi Yosef Zechariah Stern, Zecher Yosef, pp. 5a-6a.
[35] See Yeida Haam 2 (1954), p. 148; Iyunim Umechkarim, 1 pp. 81-83.
[36] See also R’vid Hazahav, Vayeishev (Kaf Paroh); Rabbi Mordechai Rosenbalt, Hadras Mordechai, Bereishis, 259. See also Shu”t Beis Yaakov, (1696) 174 who quotes such a custom from the Arizal.
[37] See Rabbi Dovid Deblitsky, Birchos L’rosh Tzaddik, pp. 25-31.


Passover with Apostates: A Concert in Spain and a Seder in the Middle of the Ocean by Elie Wiesel (1957)

|
Passover with Apostates:
A Concert in Spain and a Seder in the Middle of the Ocean
By Eliezer Wiesel
Forverts (22 April 1957) [Yiddish]
[Translated into English by Shaul Seidler-Feller (2018)]

If someone says to you that Passover is the festival of redemption not only of a nation but of each individual, believe him;
If someone explains to you that a Jew remains a Jew deep at heart, despite the masks he is often forced to wear, do not doubt him;
If someone tells you that, no matter what a Jew does, he will remain a living legacy of his people and his past, nod your head and say: True!
I ask that the skeptics among you listen to a story that happened to me a few years ago.
However, I must warn you: I know the beginning and middle of the story; the end, I do not know to this day.
I believe that, in this case at least, the end is not important. In any event, read on:
The Drunkard
In 1949, I traveled to Spain on assignment, spending several weeks crisscrossing the country, chatting with ordinary citizens as well as circumspect politicians, and seeking out here and there Jews and vestiges of Jewish life from the time of the Inquisition.
I found both Jews and tragic remnants of the Jewish past in that country of Judah Halevi and Samuel ha-Naggid.
However, the most interesting among them I encountered by chance, not in a museum or in Jewish company but in a cabaret.
Spanish colleagues, who brought me to Madrid and wished to show me the nightlife of the capital, led me to a cabaret, where overstuffed rich people came to admire flamenco performers who, in dancing and gyrating their bodies to some crazy rhythm, seemed as though they had been possessed by a dybbuk.
I do not know why my gaze, which wandered not only to the stage but also throughout the hall, suddenly fixed on a man in his 40s, who was sitting alone not far from us and did not stop drinking whiskey.
Perhaps the drunkard drew my interest and curiosity because I have met many drunkards in my life, but this one was different.
Most drunkards drink to forget; he drank to remember. So it seemed to me, based on the way in which he held the glass in his hand, brought it to his lips, and placed it back on the table.
He had a gentle face with a high, wrinkled forehead; thick eyebrows hanging over dark, mournful eyes; and delicate hands with fingers ranging from long to extremely long.
We sat in the cabaret for three hours, but, for all his drinking, the drunkard did not get sleepy.
My curiosity grew by the minute until I could no longer contain it. I called over the waiter and asked him who our bizarre neighbor was.
“Oh, you must mean Paul,” the waiter replied.
“Good, now I know his name,” I answered, “but who is he?”
The waiter smiled: “Wait a bit, be patient for a couple hours. Then you will see something you will not forget for the rest of your life. Wait, señor, it’s worth it…”
I wanted to question him further, but other guests summoned him. We had no choice but to wait.
The Divine Violin
In the meanwhile, the dancers grew tired from their dancing and the music itself began to die down.
The cabaret slowly started to empty out and a sudden gloom overtook this hall, to which people would come seeking false happiness and hollow illusions.
Our drunkard continued to knock back one glass after another, as if he had decided to drown himself, his life and his sadness, in the ever-full, ever-empty glass he held in his hand.
Suddenly, he gave the waiter a wink, and the latter understood what the guest wanted from him.
The waiter approached the stage, where the orchestra was playing sentimental melodies, and returned to the drunkard’s table with a violin in hand.
The drunkard took the violin, and a deathly silence descended upon the hall. All eyes were trained on him, on this elegant drunkard, who, eyes closed, stroked the bow for a long while, his face glowing as though flames were about to burst out of his head into the night.
Then he began to play.
And I shuddered.
I have heard many virtuosos in my lifetime, among them some of the most famous and talented.
But I had never heard anything like this.
Suddenly, it seemed to me that the cabaret had been transformed into a temple where he, the cantor, sought to purify his soul and ours in the blue sea of musical notes, of divine songs and harmonies.
I do not recall how long he played. I only remember that the impromptu concert was suddenly cut short and I was unable to catch a glimpse of the violinist, since he had already left the cabaret.
The magic came to an end, disappeared, and everything happened so quickly that I could barely believe it had been anything more than a dream.
The waiter then approached and told us that the drunkard comes every evening to the same cabaret, drinks his fill, and once he is good and plastered, he takes the violin and gives a free concert – for himself.
Who was he, this Paul? A German Jew, before the war he was a violinist who gave concerts. Hitler deported him to a concentration camp where he played in the camp orchestra. After the war, he was no longer up to performing in public. He came to Madrid in 1945-46. He had enough money – presumably from wealthy relatives. Many people suggested that he again give concerts, but he can only play when he is drunk.
That story left me then with a terrible impression. I decided to return to the cabaret the next day. But at the hotel a cable was waiting for me directing me to make a short trip to Tangier.
Two years later, I again visited Madrid and went to the same cabaret, but Paul was no longer there. They informed me that he had traveled to settle in Israel.
Apostates at the Seder
Three years ago, I celebrated Passover on a French ship, somewhere in the middle of the ocean between Brazil and Argentina.
We observed the Seder as it should be done. More than fifty people were seated at the table. But not all of them were Jews: thirty of them were… apostates.
The State of Israel was then going through difficult times, and Christian missionaries had arrived to buy up Jewish souls. Anyone who agreed to apostatize received a visa to Brazil and food for the journey.
Several hundred Jews left Israel then, having allowed themselves to be persuaded by the missionaries.
On a beautiful day, I took the French ship Provence and sailed to Brazil to see how the apostates were living there.
I knew that a couple dozen apostate Jews were traveling on that same ship, but I did not have access to them. First of all, the ship was large (with more than a thousand passengers), and go ask someone if he was not only not a Jew but an apostate! Second of all, the officers told me that many passengers almost never leave their cabin, so how is one supposed to go in to see them and ask indiscreet questions?
To my “luck,” a dramatic incident took place in Brazil: in Rio de Janeiro, the Immigration Authority refused to recognize the apostates’ entrance visas (to this day, no one knows why), and they were not allowed off the ship. According to international maritime law, the Provence had to bring them back to Marseilles, France. But because the ship was first traveling to Buenos Aires, they locked the apostates in the ship’s cellar and held them there under arrest.
I myself was supposed to disembark in Brazil, but immediately upon hearing about the incident, the journalist in me decided to travel on with these unhappy Jews to chronicle their suffering.
In the meanwhile, Passover sneaked up on us and I received permission from the ship’s captain to lead a Seder. The announcement came over the megaphone that those Jews who so wished could have a special “service” after dinner, as required by Jewish law.
I did not expect the apostates to come. But come they did. They numbered thirty-something: men, women, children. They sheepishly entered the coach dining hall and silently sat down at the table, where matzos and kosher wine symbolized their connection to the old traditions of the Jewish people.
At that moment, I remembered our Sages. Even at the gates of Hell, they said, a wicked person can repent. And they were correct, our Sages. It is enough that he witness an old-time Passover Seder for even the worst apostate to free himself of his shackles.
It goes without saying that I was in seventh heaven, sitting together at the table with Jews who had returned, reading the Haggadah.
But the greatest shock came a few minutes later. The door opened and there stood… Paul.
He did not appear drunk. But his eyes were cloudy. He came to the table, sat down, and… was silent.
After the Seder, I tried to have a conversation with him, but I could not extract anything from him.
One thing I understood more from his silence than from the few words he uttered: the Jew in him had remained.
…On the return from Argentina, thanks to the intervention of Jewish organizations in Brazil, they allowed the apostates off the ship.
Paul also left the ship, and in Brazil he escaped my eye.
I warned you: I do not know the end of this story. I have no idea what happened to Paul and the other apostates.
I know only this: if someone tells you that Passover is the festival of redemption not only of a nation but of each individual, believe him.


Afikoman – “Stealing“ and Other Related Minhagim

|
Afikoman – “Stealing“ and Other Related Minhagim*
By Eliezer Brodt



One of the most exciting parts of Seder night for kids is the “stealing” of the afikoman. Children plan well in advance when the best time would be for them to steal it, where they will hide it, as well as what they should ask for in exchange for it. Not surprisingly, toy stores do incredibly good business both during Chol Hamoed and in the days following Pesach because of this minhag. In this article I would like to trace the early sources of this minhag and also discuss rabbinic responses to it.[1]



That the minhag of stealing the afikoman was observed widely in recent history is very clear. For example, Rebbetzin Ruchoma Shain describes how she stole the afikoman when she was young; her father, Rav Yaakov Yosef Herman, promised her a gift after Yom Tov in exchange for its return.[2] Raphael Patai describes similar memories from life in Budapest before World War II.[3] In another memoir about life in Poland before the war, we find a similar description,[4] and in Alexander Ziskind Hurvitz’s Yiddish memoir about life in Minsk in the 1860s, he writes that he stole the afikoman on the first night of Pesach, that his father gave him nuts in return, and that he was warned not to steal it on the second night.[5]



Interestingly, there were occasions when the stealing of the afikoman involved adults as well. For example, in his informative memoir about life in Lithuania in the 1880s, Benjamin Gordon describes stealing the afikoman with the help of his mother,[6] and going back a bit earlier, we find that Rav Eliezer Shlomo Schick from Hungary was encouraged by his mother to steal the afikoman and to ask his father for something in exchange.[7]



But even those who recorded this minhag occasionally referred to it in less than complimentary terms. For example, in 1824 a parody called the Sefer Hakundos (literally, the “Book of the Trickster”) was printed in Vilna,[8] which describes how the “trickster” has to steal the afikoman and claim that someone else stole it.[9] In fact, this custom is even found in the work of a meshumad printed in 1856.[10]



Opposition to the Minhag



Given the implication that this minhag not only encouraged stealing but actually rewarded children for doing so, there were many who opposed it, including the Chazon Ish,[11] the Steipler,[12] Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach,[13] the Lubavitcher Rebbe[14] and Rav Tzvi Shlezinger.[15] Rav Shemtob Gaguine writes that Sefardim do not have the custom of stealing the afikoman, and he explains that this is because it is forbidden to steal even as a joke since it encourages stealing.[16] And Rav Yosef Kapach writes that this was not the minhag in Teiman as it is forbidden to steal, even for a mitzvah.[17]



Rav Aron of Metz (1754-1836) protests against this minhag in his work Meorei Or, as the goyim will say that the Jews are trying to teach their children to steal, as they did in Mitzrayim.[18] The question is, what does he mean?



In the anonymous work of a meshumad printed in 1738, we find a detailed description of the stealing of the afikoman by the youngest child and how he tries to get a reward for it from his father. He writes that the reason for this minhag is to teach the child to remember what the Jews did in Mitzrayim—that they borrowed from the Egyptians and ran away with the items.[19] This was the concern of Rav Aron of Metz. It is possible that this is why Rabbi Yair Chaim Bacharach of Worms writes in Mekor Chaim that there is reason to abolish this minhag.



How far back can this minhag be traced, and what is the source for it?



In most of the Rishonim and early poskim, in describing the part of the Seder called Yachatz, we find mention of breaking the matzah. Some go so far as to say that the leader of the Seder puts it on his shoulders and walks a bit with it (others do this only later on, when they eat the afikoman).[20] Some mention putting it under a pillow to watch it,[21] but there is almost no mention of children stealing it. The earliest source for the custom of stealing the afikoman that I have located is the illustrated manuscript Ashkenazic Haggadah, known as the Second Nuremberg Haggadah, written between 1450 and 1500. On page 6b, the boy puts out his hand to get the afikoman from his father. Later on in the Haggadah (p. 26b), in the section called Tzafun, the leader asks for the afikoman that the boy had hidden.[22] However, in almost all the many works related to the Seder, we do not find such a custom mentioned.



Although it’s mentioned in the Second Nuremberg Haggadah, we do not find it mentioned again after that for many years. Worth noting, for example, is that in the famous illustrated Haggadah of Prague (1526), there is no mention or picture of such a thing.[23]



In the work Siach Yitzchak of Rav Yitzchak Chayes (1538-1610), which is a halachic work on the Seder night, first printed in 1587, there is mention of the stealing of the afikoman, but not exactly the way we do it today.[24]



Rabbi Yair Chaim Bacharach of Worms (1638-1702) writes in Mekor Chaim that the children had a custom to steal the afikoman.[25]



One of the earliest printed references can be found in the work Chok Yaakov on hilchos Pesach by Rabbi Yaakov Reischer (1660-1733), first printed in 1696 in Dessau. He wrote that in his area, children had the custom to steal the afikoman.[26]



Rav Yosef Yuzpha of Frankfurt also cites this custom in his Noheg Ketzon Yosef, first printed in 1717.[27] Rav Yaakov Emden (1698-1776) cites the custom as well.[28]



Where does this minhag come from? Many Acharonim[29] point to the Gemara (Pesachim 109a), which mentions that we are “chotef” the matzos on the night of Pesach for the children.[30] What does “chotef” mean in this context? The Rishonim offer different explanations.[31] The Rambam writes that on this night one has to make changes so that the children will notice and ask why this night is different, and one answers by explaining to them what happened. The Rambam adds that among the changes we make are giving out almonds and nuts, removing the table before we eat, and grabbing the matzah from each other.[32] Rabbeinu Manoach points to the Tosefta as the source for the Rambam that “chotef” means to grab.[33] Some Rishonim, quoting the Tosefta, write clearly that it means to steal.[34]



The truth is that, based on the Rambam, we can understand where this minhag came from. The night of Pesach is all about the children. The Seder night is a time when we do many “strange” things with one goal in mind—to get the children to notice and ask.[35] The purpose of this is to fulfill the main mitzvah of the night—sippur yetzias Mitzrayim. The mitzvah of zecher l’yetzias Mitzrayim lies behind many mitzvos. The reason for this, says the Chinuch, is that Yetzias Mitzrayim was testimony that there is a God Who runs the world, and that He can change what He wants when necessary, as he did in Mitzrayim.[36] Elsewhere, the Chinuch adds that the reason Yetzias Mitzrayim is related to so many mitzvos is that in doing a variety of activities with this concept in mind, we will internalize the importance of this historic event.[37]



“Strange” Things at the Seder



Following are some of the various minhagim that are intended simply to get the children to ask questions.



The Gemara (Pesachim 109a) mentions that they gave almonds and nuts so that the children should stay awake.[38] All the various aspects of the Karpas section of the Seder, according to many, are for the purpose of prompting them to ask[39] what’s going on—from washing before eating vegetables[40] to omitting a brachah on the washing,[41] dipping the vegetable into salt water, and eating less than a kezayis,[42] breaking the matzah at Yachatz,[43] lifting the ke’arah before saying “Ha Lachma Anya,”[44] switching to Hebrew at the end of “Ha Lachma Anya,”[45] removing the ke’arah before reciting the Haggadah[46] (or removal of the table), giving even the children four cups of wine, and pouring the second cup at the beginning of the Haggadah.[47] Although numerous reasons are given for these minhagim, one common reason is that they are intended to spark the children’s curiosity, which leads to a discussion of Mitzrayim and all the miracles that took place there.



According to the Rambam, this is what lies behind the stealing of the afikoman—it is yet one more thing that we do to get the children involved and prompt them to ask questions. All this can explain another strange custom. The Chida writes that at a Seder he attended during his travels, a servant circled the ke’arah around the head of each male at the Seder three times, similar to what many do during kaparos with a chicken.[48] There are even earlier sources for such a minhag.[49]



Additional Sources in Favor of “Stealing”



At the Seder of the Chofetz Chaim and his son-in-law, the children did steal the afikoman.[50] In Persia, we find that some had this custom as well.[51] Rav Yisroel Margolis Yafeh, a talmid of the Chasam Sofer, also defends the minhag of stealing the afikoman.[52]



Earlier, I mentioned that Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach was against stealing the afikoman. Interestingly enough, his rebbe, Rav Dovid Baharan Weisfish, did allow it.[53] Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl writes that he did not understand the reasoning of his rebbe, Rav Shlomo Zalman, since it did not encourage the children to steal but simply helped them stay awake.[54]



There is a much earlier work that offers a similar premise. Rav Yosef Yuzpa of Frankfurt writes in his work Noheg Ketzon Yosef that one should not discontinue the minhag that children steal the afikoman and get something in return from their father, as this keeps them awake and they discuss Yetzias Mitzrayim.[55] And as far as the argument that stealing is never permitted, Rabbi Weingarten points to Hilchos Purim, in which we find that some level of damage is permissible for the sake of simchas Yom Tov.[56]



Other Reasons for This Custom[57]


Rabbi Yair Chaim Bacharach of Worms writes in Mekor Chaim that the reason for custom is to teach children to cherish the mitzvos.



Related to all of this is an interesting teshuvah in the anonymous work Shu”t Torah Lishmah. The author was consulted by a talmid chacham who had visited a family on the Seder night, and the head of the household put out a stack of matzah before beginning the recital of the Haggadah so that everyone could recite it over a piece of matzah. When he brought out the matzah, everyone ran to grab a piece. The guest was upset about this, and they explained to him that the purpose was to demonstrate their love for the mitzvah. The guest felt that it was an embarrassment to the mitzvah to act in such a coarse way; in addition, there is an issue not to grab bread greedily. The author of Torah Lishmah pointed to the Gemara in Chullin (133a), which suggests that since they were doing it to show their love for the mitzvah, it was not a problem.[58]



Rav Moshe Wexler, in Birkas Moshe (1902), gives a simple reason for this minhag. We are concerned that we will forget to eat the afikoman; what better way to remember than to have a child remind you since he wants to get his reward?[59]



Deeper Message Behind the Minhag



One last idea about this minhag, which is very much worth quoting, comes from Rabbi Shimon Schwab:



“I personally do not care for the term ‘stealing the matzah.’ It is un-Jewish to steal—even the afikoman! The prohibition against theft includes even if it is done as a prank (see Bava Metzia 61b)… Notwithstanding the fact that children taking the afikoman is not stealing because it is not removed from the premises, it would still be the wrong chinuch to call it ‘stealing.’ Rather, I would call it ‘hiding the matzah,’ to be used later as the afikoman, which is called ‘hidden.’



“There is an oft-quoted saying, although not found in any original halachic source, that all Jewish minhagim have a deep meaning… Thoughtful Jewish parents of old, in playing with their children, always incorporated a Torah lesson into their children’s games. Similarly, the minhag of yachatz, whereby we break the matzah into a larger and smaller piece, with each being used for its special purpose, is also deeply symbolic. The smaller piece, the lechem oni, the poor man’s bread, is left on the Seder plate, along with the maror and charoses. However, the larger piece is hidden away for the afikoman by the children, who who will ask for a reward for its return, and it is then eaten at the end of the meal.



“I heard a beautiful explanation for the symbolism of this minhag from my father. He explained that the smaller piece of matzah, the lechem oni, represents Olam Hazeh, with all its trials and tribulations. This piece is left on the Seder plate along with the maror and charoses, reflecting life in this world, with all its sweet and bitter experiences. However, the larger, main piece, which is hidden away during the Seder, to be eaten after the meal as the afikoman, represents Olam Haba, which is hidden from us during our lives in this world. The eating of this piece after the meal, when one is satiated, is symbolic of our reward in Olam Haba, which can be obtained only if we have first satiated ourselves in this world with a life of Torah and mitzvos. The children’s request for a reward before giving up the afikoman is symbolic of our reward in Olam Haba, which is granted to us by Hakadosh Baruch Hu if we have earned it.”[60]



There is an additional widespread custom of saving a piece of the afikoman for after Pesach.[61] Where does this minhag come from?



In her memoirs, Pauline Wengeroff (b. 1833 in Minsk) wrote: “In some Jewish homes, a single round matzah was hung on the wall by a little thread and left there as a memento.”[62] Mention of this custom is found in the work of a meshumad printed in 1794,[63] and another from 1856.[64] Chaim Hamberger also describes witnessing someone breaking off a piece of the afikoman and saving it as a segulah.[65] The Munkatcher Rebbe used to give out a piece of the afikoman, which some would save for the entire year.[66] In Persia, some also had the custom of saving a piece of the afikoman.[67]



In a book[68] filled with humor, which received a haskamah from Rav Chaim Berlin, a rich man complains to his friend that the mice are eating his clothes. His friend suggests that he sprinkle the clothes with the crumbs of the afikoman that he saves each year. He guarantees that the mice will not eat the clothes as the halachah is that one cannot eat anything after the afikoman!



In an even earlier source, the Magen Avraham—Rav Avrohom Gombiner’s classic work on the Shulchan Aruch, first printed in 1692—he makes a cryptic statement in Hilchos Yom Tov (not in Hilchos Pesach) in a discussion of making holes in meat, saying that one should hang the afikoman in such a way that he can make a hole in it with a knife.[69] What is he referring to?



Rabbi Yaakov Reischer (1660-1733), in Chok Yaakov on hilchos Pesach, first printed in 1696, writes that there is a custom to break off a piece of the afikoman and hang it, and he points to this Magen Avraham as proof.[70] Neither of these sources gives us insight into the reason for the practice, but it is clear that it is a segulah done with the afikoman.



The answer may be found in another work of Rabbi Yaakov Reischer. He was asked about his thoughts on the Kitzur Shlah, who writes that there is a problem with hanging the afikoman since it is a bizayon [disgrace] for the food, which is a halachic issue.[71] Rav Reischer says that it is not an issue since it serves to remind us of Yetzias Mitzrayim. He adds that his father and teachers observed this custom.[72]



Rabbi Yair Chaim Bacharach of Worms also writes that the reason for the minhag to hang a piece of the afikoman is zecher l’yetzias Mitzrayim.[73]



But why isn’t there an issue of bizui ochlin? Perhaps we can understand it based on Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl’s[74] explanation of the general issur of bizui ochlin, which is that bread is a special gift that Hashem gives us from Olam Haba so it is prohibited to use it in an embarrassing way. However, here one is using it for the mitzvah of zecher l’yetzias Mitzrayim, so maybe that’s why Rav Reisher held that it was not an issue.



From these sources it appears that hanging the matzah has nothing to do with any segulah but is simply zecher l’yetzias Mitzrayim.



The Kitzur Shlah, however, suggests that if one wants to observe this minhag, he should not hang the piece of afikoman but should carry it around with him. He adds that this segulah is a protection from thieves.[75] Rabbi Yair Chaim Bacharach of Worms also mentions that the piece of afikoman is a segulah for protection when traveling, but he does not quote a source for this.



In other early segulah sefarim, we find different segulos associated with the afikoman. In a rare work first printed in 1646, we find that it protects one from mazikim. At the end of the same work, the author writes that it can protect one from drowning at sea[76]; Rav Binyamin Baal Shem makes the same statement.[77] Rabbi Zechariah Simnar’s Sefer Zechirah, first printed in 1709, states that the piece of afikoman protects one from mazikim. This last source is an additional reason for the widespread observance of the custom because the sefer was extremely popular in its time and was reprinted over 40 times.[78]



One famous personality who actually used this segulah was Sir Moses Montefiore. When he found himself in the midst of a terrible storm, he cast a piece of afikoman into the sea. His family used to commemorate this miracle each year.[79]



In the anonymous work of a meshumad printed in 1738, he says it is used to ward off the evil eye.[80] Rav Yisachar Shlomo Teichtal has a very interesting teshuvah on this segulah. He writes that in the Shulchan Aruch it appears that the afikoman has all the dinim of the korban Pesach; with that comes the problem of leaving behind even one piece. He says that one should leave a piece behind for this segulah only from the matzah of the second night. He says that the people in Eretz Yisrael should save a regular piece of matzah. He then cites the Yosef Ometz, who writes that he made sure not to lose one crumb of the afikoman, so how could one possibly save a piece for the entire year?[81] His suggestion at the end is that it is better to save a regular piece of matzah.



Rav Chaim Hakohen, a talmid of Rav Chaim Vital, writes in his work Tur Barekes that there is a special segulah to save and hang a piece of matzah for the entire year and that it protects one from mazikim.[82] This practice is also cited in the very popular anonymous work Chemdas Yamim, which was first printed in 1731.8[3] Rabbi Moshe Chagiz (1671-1751) writes the same about the segulah, [84] as does Rav Dunner.[85] All of these sources appear to say that the segulah is not specifically associated with a piece of the afikoman.



Until 2010, these was the array of earlier sources known for this custom. In 2010, a fascinating manuscript of Rav Chaim Vital (1543-1620) was printed for the first time—Sefer Hape’ulos.[86]



Rav Chaim Vital is best known in the realm of Kabbalah; he was the primary student of the Arizal, entrusted with disseminating his teacher’s works.



What makes Sefer Hape’ulos especially interesting is that we see Rav Chaim Vital in a different light than he was previously known. In the first part of this work we see him as a doctor of sorts. He provides remedies to people for all kinds of illnesses—asthma, infertility, headaches, toothaches and many other conditions. Much of his advice was based on segulos and the like. In this work, he shows a familiarity with medical procedures of that period. He quotes advice that he had read in various medical works. There is also a section on alchemy.



The whereabouts of the actual manuscript are a mystery.



Rumors are that it is being sold page by page as segulah, and each page fetches a large sum of money. But copies of the manuscript are accessible on various databases.



In this work, Rav Chaim Vital writes that to calm the sea in a storm, one should take a kezayis of the afikoman and throw it into the sea.[87]



According to this statement, we see that Rav Vital does not agree with the sources saying that the afikoman should be regarded as regular matzah. Furthermore, we see that he was not concerned with Rav Teichtal’s issues as he was in Eretz Yisrael and he still said the afikoman should be used.



Burning With the Chametz



One last aspect of the treatment of the afikoman comes from Rav Schick, who says that since the afikoman is eaten as a zecher of the korban Pesach, we should keep a piece of it to burn with the chametz in order to remind us that any leftovers of the korban Pesach were to be burned.[88] Rav Dunner did the same.[89] The aforementioned work of a meshumad, printed in 1856,[90] mentions this aspect of the custom.



* A version of this article was printed in April of last year in Ami Magazine.


[1] For sources on this topic that helped me prepare this article R’ Moshe Katz, Vayaged Moshe, pp. 118-120; R’ Moshe Weingarten, Seder Ha-Aruch 1 (1991), pp. 336-338; R’ Y. Lieberman, Chag Hamatzos, pp. 458-460; R’ Avrohom Feldman, Halacha Shel Pesach, pp. 299-302; R’ Chaim David Halevi, Shonah Bishonah (1986), pp. 144-148; R’ Tuviah Freund, Moadim Li-Simcha (Pesach), pp. 340-354 [=Tzohar 2 (1998, pp. 196-206]; Pardes Eliezer, pp. 158-172; S. Reiskin, Yedah Ha-Am, 69-70 (2010), pp. 114-121 [Thanks to R’ Menachem Silber for this source]. See also, R’ Melamed, Hadoar 69 (1990), pp. 13-14.
[2] Ruchoma Shain, All for the Boss, (Young readers edition) (2008), pp. 6-7.
[3] Raphael Patai, Apprentice in Budapest: Memories of a world that is no more (1988), p. 156.
[4] Norman Salsitz, A Jewish Boyhood in Poland: Remembering Kolbuszowa (1999), pp. 166-167.
[5] A. Z. Hurvitz, Zichronot Fun Tzvei Dorot (1935), p. 138.
[6] Benjamin Lee Gordon, Between Two Worlds: The Memoirs of a Physician (2011), p. 24.
[7] R’ Shlomo Tzvi Schueck, Seder Haminhagim, (1880) p. 69b. About R’ Schueck, see Adam Ferziger, “The Hungarian Orthodox Rabbinate and Zionism: The Case of R. Salamon Zvi Schück”, Eleventh World Congress of Jewish Studies (Jerusalem, Israel, July 1993). I hope to return to him in a future piece.
[8] See the critical edition of this work printed in 1997, p. 67.
[9] P. 64.
[10] H. Baer, Ceremonies of Modern Judaism (1856), p. 149.
[11] R’ Z. Yavrov (ed.), Ma’aseh Ish Vol. 5 (2001), p. 19.
[12] R’ A. L. Horovitz (ed.), Orchos Rabbeinu Vol. 2 ( p. 78.
[13] R’ Y. Turner & R’ A. Auerbach (ed.), Halichos Shlomo (Moadei Hashanah: Nissan-Av) (2007) p. 260; R’ T. Freund, Shalmei Moed, (2004) p.400.
[14] R’ M. M. Schneersohn, Haggadah Shel Pesach Im Likutei Tamim Vol. 1 (2014), p. 11. See also p. 179.
[15] R’ Y. Shlezinger, Meorot Yitzchak (2012) p. 345.
[16] R’ S. Gaguine, Keser Shem Tov Vol. 3 (1948), p. 176.
[17] Halichos Teiman (1968), p. 22. See also, R’ Razabi, Hagadah Pri Etz Chaim, p. 337-338; R’ Harari, Mikroei Kodesh, p. 209.
[18] Meorei Or, Od Lomoed, p. 178a. The Orchos Chaim (Spinka). 473:19 quotes this piece. See R’ Yisachar Tamar, Alei Tamar, Moed 1, p. 311. On this work see the important article of Yakov Speigel, Yerushaseinu 3 (2009, pp. 269-309. About this specific piece see Ibid, pp. 279-289; R’ Dovid Zvi Hillman, Yeshurun 25 (2011), p. 620.
[19] Gamliel Ben Pedahzur, The Book of Religion, Ceremonies and Prayers of the Jews, London 1738, pp. 54-55. On this work see C. Roth, Personalities and Events in Jewish History, pp.87-90, David B. Ruderman, Jewish Enlightenment in an English Key, Princeton University Press 2000, pp. 242-49.
[20] See Hanaghot HaMarshal, pp. 10-11; Magen Avraham, 473:22; Chidushel Dinim Mei-Hilchos Pesach, p. 38. See Rabbi Chaim Benveniste, Pesach Meuvin, 315; Vayagid Moshe, pp. 116-117. There are numerous sources for putting on short skits at the seder I hope to return to this in the future.
[21] See Rabbi Yechiel Heller, Or Yisharim, p. 3b; R’ Reuven Margolis, Haggdas Baer Miriam (2002), p, 26.
[22] The Haggadah is now online here (http://jnul.huji.ac.il/dl/mss-pr/mss_d_0076/). See Bezalel Narkiss and Gabriella Sed-Rajna article about this Hagdah available there. Thanks to Rabbi Mordechai Honig for pointing me to this source.
[23] On this haggadah see Y. Yudolov, Otzar Haggadas, p. 2, # 7-8. See also Rabbi Charles Wengrov, Haggadah and Woodcut, (1967), pp, 69-71; the introduction to the 1965 reprint of this Haggadah; Yosef Yerushalmi, Haggadah and History, plate 13; See also Yosef Tabori, Mechkarim Betoldos Halacha (forthcoming), pp. 461-474. I hope to return to this Hagdah in a future article.
[24] Sich Yitzchack, p. 21a. About this Gaon see the Introduction of R’ Adler in his recent edition of his Pnei Yitzchchak- Apei Ravrivi.
[25] Mekor Chaim, Siman 477. This incredible work was first printed from manuscript in 1988.
[26] Chok Yaakov, 472:2. About him see S. Shilah, Asufot 11 (1998), pp. 65-86.
[27] Noheg Ketzon Yosef, p. 222.
[28] See his siddur, volume 2, p. 48. This comment is from the recent additions printed from the manuscript of his siddur.
[29] The first to tie it to this Gemarah was Chok Yakov (1696), R’ Yakov Emden; R’ Yedidya Thia Weil, Marbeh Lisaper, (1791), p. 7a; R’ Shimon Sofer (son of the Chasam Sofer), Mectav Sofer p. 110b; R’ Tzvi Segal, Likutei Tzvi, (1866) p. 28; R’ Shlomo Tzvi Schueck, Seder Haminhaghim, (1880) p. 69b; Sefer Matamim, p. 154; Meir Ish Sholom, Meir Ayin Al Seder Vehagadah Shel Leli Pesach, (1895), p. 34; Rabbi Yeshayah Singer, Mishneh Zichron, (1913) p. 180; R. Avraham Eliezer Hershkowitz, Otzar Kol Minhaghei Yeshrun (St. Louis, 1918), p. 136. See also Daniel Goldschmidt, Haggadah Shel Pesach (1948), p. 22 [This piece does not appear in his later edition]. See the interesting Teshuvah on this from R’ Munk, Pas Sudecha, Siman 51.
[30] Related to this, see Shu”t Torah Lishmah, #138 where he describes a custom on the Seder night.
[31] See Rashi; Rashbam; Riaz.
[32] Rambam, Chometz Umatzah 7:3.
[33] See R’ Saul Lieberman’s Tosefta Kifshuto, Pesachim, p. 653; R’ Yisachar Tamar, Alei Tamar, Moed 1, p. 311; Meir Ish Sholom, Meir Ayin Al Seder Vehagadah Shel Leli Pesach, (1895), pp. 34-35; Yosef Tabori, Pesach Dorot, p. 254; Shmuel & Zev Safrai, Haggadas Chazal, (1998), pp. 47-48.
[34] See Rashbam; Sefer HaMichtam; Maharam Halewa; Rabbenu Yerchem; Meiri. See also Ri Melunel and the Nimukei Yosef. See also Mahril, p. 114.
[35] This topic is dealt with at great length in Rabbi Mordechai Breuer’s Pirkei Mo’adot, pp. 171-192; Shama Friedman, Tosefta Atiktah, pp. 439-446. See also Rabbi Yosef Dubovick’s unpublished paper on the topic [many thanks to him for making it available to me]. See also Hagada Shel Pesach, Mesivtah, pp. 101-107. For more on this see the excellent recent work of Dovid Henshke, Ma Nishtna (2016), pp.271-299, 397-405.
[36]. See Chinuch Mitzvah 10.
[37] Chinuch Mitzvah 20.
[38] See R’ Chaim Berlin, Nishmat Chaim, p. 179. Yechezkel Kotik describes in his memoirs (Ma She’ra’iti, p. 164) getting nuts on Erev Pesach. See also Pauline Wengeroff, Rememberings, p. 44 who also describes getting nutson Pesach.
[39] See R’ Chaim Berlin, Shut Nishmat Chaim (Bei Brak), Siman 50.
[40] Chock Yakov, 473:28 see also Mahril, p. 98; Yosef Tabori, Pesach Dorot, (1996), pp. 212-244; R’ Yosef Schachar, Hod Vhadar Kevodo, pp. 124-125 [A Letter of Rabbi Chaim Berlin]; my Bein Keseh La-asur, pp. 148-153.
[41] See Yosef Tabori, Pesach Dorot, ibid.
[42] See Drasha of the Rokeach, p. 97
[43] Seder Hayom, p. 153
[44] Drasha of the Rokeach, p.98.
[45] Drasha of the Rokeach, p.98.
[46] See Drasha of the Rokeach, p. 9. But see Magan Avrhom 473:25 and Chock Yakov 473:33.
[47] See Magan Avrhom, 473:27; Seder Haaruch, 1, p. 388-390.
[48] Maagal Tov, pp. 62. On this work see my article in Yeshurun 26 (2012) pp. 853-874 and my earlier article in Ami Magazine, September 27, 2012 Is the Zoo Kosher?
[49] See the collection of sources in Rabbi Tovia Preshel, Or Yisroel 15 (1999),pp. 149-151; Rabbi Yisroel Dandorovitz, Yechalek Shalal (2014), pp. 92-98. It appears that the Barcelona Haggadah, produced after 1350, is the earliest record of the custom to place the Seder Plate on someone’s head during the recitation of Ha Lahma Anya [Thanks to Dan Rabnowitz for this source].
[50] Hagadas HaGershuni, p. 58
[51] Yehudei Poras, pp. 25, 26-27.
[52] Shut Mili D’avos (3:14).
[53] Orech Dovid, p. 107
[54] Hagadah Yerushlyim Bemoadeah,p. 55. See also R’ Harari, Mikroei Kodesh, p. 209
[55] Noheg Ketzon Yosef, p. 222.
[56] Seder Haaruch 1, p. 338. However see the Aruch Hashulchan 696:10 who says today we are not on such a level.
[57] For additional reasons see R’ Shimon Sofer (son of the Chasam Sofer), Mectav Sofer p. 110b; R’ Yisroel Margolis Yafeh, Shut Mili D’avos (3:14); Rabbi Yeshayah Singer, Mishneh Zichron, (1913) p.67a.
[58] Shut Torah Lishma, #138. On this work see: M. Koppel, D. Mughaz and N. Akiva (2006), New Methods for Attribution of Rabbinic Literature Hebrew Linguistics: A Journal for Hebrew Descriptive, Computational and Applied Linguistics; M. Koppel, J. Schler and E. Bonchek-Dokow (2007), Measuring Differentiability: Unmasking Pseudonymous Authors, JMLR 8, July 2007, pp.1261-1276; R’ Y. Liba, Shevet MeYehudah, pp. 213-236; R’ Yakov Hillel, Ben Ish Chai (2011), pp. 410-422; (excellent) intro-
duction to the new edition of this work; Levi Cooper, A Bagdadi Mystery: Rabbi Yosef Chaim and Torah Lishmah, JEL 14;1 (2015), pp 54-60.
[59] Birchat Moshe, pp. 15-16
[60] Rav Schwab on Prayer, pp. 542-543.
[61] R’ Menachem Kasher, Torah Shlemah, 12:286; Rabbi Moshe Weingarten, Seder Ha-Aruch 2 pp.244-245; Pardes Eliezer, pp.172-179. The most recent discussion of this custom is by R’ Bentzion Eichorn where he devoted a complete work called Simchat Zion (2008) (73 pps.) devoted to the many aspects of this minhag. See also D. Sperber, The Jewish Life Cycle, p. 585.
[62] Rememberings, p. 45.
[63] H. Isaacs, Ceremonies, Customs Rites and Traditions of the Jews, London 1794, pp. 111.
[64] H. Baer, Ceremonies of Modern
Judaism, Nashville 1856, p. 149.
[65] Tzefunot 11 (1991), p.97.
[66] Darchei Chaim Ushalom, pp. 193-194.
[67] Yehudei Poras, p.27.
[68] Osem Bosem, p. 35.
[69] Siman 500:7. For a possible early source for this dating to 1550 see Y. Yuval, Two nations in your Womb, p.245.
[70] Chok Yakov, 477:3.
[71] Kitzur Hashilah, p. 67a. See Hatzofeh Lichochmas Yisroel 9 (1925), pp.235-241 for an additional problem with observing this custom.
[72] Shut Shevous Yakov, 3:52.
[73] Mekor Chaim, Siman 477.
[74] Yerushalayim BeModeah (Purim), p. 258.
[75][76] Derech HaYashar, p. 8, p. 42.
[77] Amtachas Binyomin, p. 18.
[78] Sefer Zechira, p. 271. On this work see my Likutei Eliezer, pp. 13-25.
[79] See Cecil Roth, Personalities and Events in Jewish History, p. 85. See also Abigail Green, Moses Montefiore: Jewish Liberator, Imperial Hero (Cambridge, Mass. Harvard University Press, 2010, pp. 82-83 and 447 n.104. [Thanks to Menachem Butler for this last source].
[80] Gamliel Ben Pedahzur, The Book of Religion, Ceremonies and Prayers of the Jews, London 1738, p.78. Earlier on p. 55 he mentions some carry it with them as a segulah when traveling to stop a storm.
[81] Mishnat Sachir, # 122.
[82] See also R’ Dovid Zechut, Zecher Dovid, 3:27, p. 183.
[83] Chemdas Yomim, Pesach, p. 26 b. On this work see my Likutei Eliezer, p. 2.
[84] Eleh hamitzvos 19, p. 58.
[85] Minhagehi Mahritz Halevi, p. 167-168.
[86] On this work see Gerrit Boss, extensive article “Hayyim Vital’s Practical kabbalah and Alchemy; a 17th Century book of secrets” in the Journal of Jewish Thought and Philosophy, Volume 4, pp. 54-112. See also my Likutei Eliezer, pp.46-89.
[87] Sefer Hape’olot p. 241. In 2015 a beautiful haggadah, Hagaddas Medrash BiChodesh, (2015), was printed for the first time of R’ Eliezer Foah (died 1658) talmid of the Remah Mi Pano where he also brings this segulah of throwing it in to the sea (pp. 19-20). The editor incorrectly writes that this is the first source for this segulah.
[88] Siddur Rashban, 33b.
[89] Minhagehi Mahritz Halevi, p. 167-168.
[90] H. Baer, Ceremonies of Modern Judaism, Nashville 1856, p. 149.


Everything is Illuminated: Mining the Art of Illustrated Haggadah Manuscripts for Meaning

|
Everything is Illuminated: Mining the Art of Illustrated Haggadah Manuscripts for Meaning
            We have discussed haggadah illustrations in the past (see the links at the end of this post) and we wanted to expand and update upon that discussion for this year. In this post we focus on Hebrew illuminated haggadah manuscripts, and in the follow-up post will turn our attention to printed illustrated haggadot.
            While there is not as large of a body of Jewish art as that of art in general, historically Jews have appreciated the visual arts early in their evolution into a nation.  Aside from the biblical forms, we have evidence of art dating to the second century of the common era in the well-known frescos at the Dura-Europos synagogue.[1] But, such appreciation was not limited to second century Palestinian Jews, as evidenced from the discussion below, this appreciation continued, almost unabated, until the modern period.  It was not just the artist class or wealthy acculturated Jews that were exposed to and admired this medium.  For example, in the 1560 Mantua haggadah, one of the more important printed illustrated haggadot, the wise son appears to be modeled after Michelangelo’s Jeremiah in the Sistine Chapel (view it here: link). 
            

Lest one think that it is highly unlikely that a 16th century Italian Jew would have even entered the chapel, let alone been familiar with this painting, a contemporaneous account of Jewish art appreciation disabuses those assumptions.  Specifically, Giorgi Vasari, the 16th century artist and art historian, in his Lives of Excellent Painters (first published in 1560), records regarding Michelangelo’s statute of Moses – that is a full statute depicting the human form and was placed in the church of San Pietro in Rome – that “the Jews [go] in crowds, both men and women, every Saturday, like flocks of starlings, to visit and adore the statue.” That is, the Sabbath afternoon activity was to go to church to admire the statute of Moses, that is more famous for having horns than its Jewish visitors.[2]

Hebrew Manuscripts Background  
A brief background regarding Hebrew manuscripts before delving into the illuminated haggadah manuscripts. Details regarding manuscripts, the name of the copyist, the date, and the place where the manuscript was written, were supplied not at the beginning of the book – as is the convention with printed books and title pages –  instead in manuscripts this information is provided at the end. For this reason, the scribe’s note containing the information was called a colophon – from the Greek word kolofon, meaning “summit” or “final point.”[3]
Number of Hebrew mss.

A cautious guess of the number of extant Hebrew manuscripts in existence is between 60,000 -70,000 “but no more than 30-40 thousand of them predate the middle of the sixteenth century.”[4] Of the 2-3 hundred thousand Hebrew manuscripts presumed in existence in Europe at the beginning of the fourteenth century, probably no more than four to five thousand are extant today, possibly even less. “From the tenth century (before which information is very scarce) to 1490 (when the influence of printing books began to be felt)” there are an estimated one million manuscripts, meaning, “that 95 per cent of manuscripts have disappeared.”[5]  In addition, the early printed books – incunabula – had similar survival rates.

            The dearth of manuscripts has left a significant hole in our knowledge of major Jewish texts.  For example, there is only one complete manuscript of the Palestinian Talmud (1289) and two partial manuscripts. The Babylonian Talmud fared slightly better, with one complete manuscript (1342) and 63 partial manuscripts in libraries, with only 14 dating from the 12th & 13th centuries.[6] 
One of the partial TPs is known as the Vatican Codex 133 – and worth mentioning is the Vatican and its role regarding Hebrew manuscripts.  While there is no doubt that the Church had a significant hand in reducing the number of manuscripts – in reality the destruction of Hebrew manuscripts was the work of the Jesuits and not the Roman Catholic Church. Indeed, the Church confiscated and, thus in some instances preserved Hebrew manuscripts.  Consequently, we have a number of important Jewish texts that survive in the Vatican library.  Today, many of these manuscripts have been published.  The incomplete manuscript of the TP is but one example.  Additionally, regarding the use of (rather than just reprinting) the Vatican library, for at least late 19th century, Jews had access to the library.  For example, R. Raphael Nathan Rabinowitz, who authored a monumental work on Talmudic variants provides that “I prayed to God to permit me entrance to the Vatican library to record variant readings” his prayer was answered, and he received permission not only to use it during regular hours but “even on days that it was closed due to Christian holidays, when the library was closed to all, and even more so Jews.”[7] In total he spent close to 9 months in the library. In addition, Rabbi Rabinowitz’s presence and special status at the Vatican library was instrumental for the editing of the Vilna Talmud, where he secured permission for the Romm-employed copyists to work with manuscripts of the commentary of Rabbenu Hananel, even though they arrived in Rome during the summer season when the library was closed.
            Of the estimated one million Hebrew manuscripts from the 10th century until 1490, approximately 5% have survived.  As mentioned, religious persecution was one reason, but the main reasons are (1) deterioration from use, (2) accidents, and (3) reuse.  The first two are self-explanatory, the third requires a bit of explanation.  From the times that manuscripts were written on papyrus, unwanted manuscripts were scraped or washed and then reused.  (This papyrus recycling was not confined to reusing for books, papyrus was used from wrapping mummies, burned for its aroma, and used, according to Apices, to wrap meat for cooking). Similarly, leather and parchment were recycled, in the more egregious examples for shoe leather but in many cases for book bindings.  The latter reuse would be critical to the survival of numerous Hebrew manuscripts which have now been reclaimed from bindings.  It is estimated that there are 85,000 such binding fragments.  “The commonest use of written folios, however, was in bindings, whether for binding strips, end papers, or covers.”[8]   
Illuminated Hebrew Manuscripts

            The “earliest examples of Jewish book illumination are tenth-and eleventh-century Bible codices written in the Orient or Near East.  The illuminations are not figurative but consist of a number of decorative carpet pages adorned with abstract geometric or micrographic designs preceding or following the Biblical text.”[9] While these early illuminated manuscripts did not contain human figures, they did contain the first iterations of something unique to Jewish manuscripts, “one form of manuscript depiction unique to Jewish manuscripts is micrography with the earliest examples of this art may be found in the tenth-century Bibles written in the Orient.”[10]  A beautiful example of this art can be seen in the carpet pages for the Leningrad Codex. 



Similar non-representational geometric art was incorporated into Islamic art to avoid graphic representation.  Consequently, symmetrical forms were created which required advances in math theory to accommodate the ever more complex art.
Hebrew manuscripts did not adopt the Islamic convention – for the most part – and the earliest illustrations of human figures appear in Franco-Ashkenazic manuscripts – bibles – of the thirteenth century.
The earliest extant illustrated haggadah[11] is what is known as the Birds’ Head Haggadah dated to the early 1300s. The moniker “Birds’ Head” comes from the fact that the illustrator used birds heads/griffins in place of human heads. This manuscript is not the only Jewish manuscript to use zoophilic (the combination of man and beast) images. Zoophilic images can be found in a variety of contexts in Jewish manuscripts. For example, in the manuscript known as Tripartite Machzor, men are drawn normally while the women are drawn with animal heads.[12]  The name of this Machzor comes from the random fact that the manuscript was split up into three.  At times manuscripts are titled by location (Leipzig Mahzor), history (tripartite) or owner.  In one example, the “Murphy Haggadah” “ suffered a fate all too common to many Hebrew texts.  Before the Second World War the manuscript belonged to Baron Edmond de Rothschild.  During the war it was stolen and sold to an American, F.T. Murphy, who bequeathed it to Yale University, his alma matter.  For years it was known as the “Murphy Haggadah” until, in 1980, a Yale scholar, Prof. J. Marrow, identified as belonging to the Rothschilds.  The manuscript was returned to the Rothschild family and presented by the Baroness Dorothy to the Jewish National Library.[13]
            When it comes to the Birds’ Head manuscript, a variety of reasons have been offered for its imagery, running the gamut from halachik concerns to the rather incredible notion that the images are actually anti-Semitic with a bird’s beak standing in for the Jewish nose trope and the claim that the ears on the “birds” are reminiscent of pigs’ ears. Generally, those claiming halackhic, or more particular pietistic reasons, do so because they are unable “to conceive of such a bizarre and fanciful treatment of the human image as emerging from anywhere other than the twisted and febrile imagination of religious fanatics.”[14] But, in reality the use of bird’s head in lieu of human “reflects a liberal halakhic position rather than an extreme one.”[15]  The camp of Yehuda ha–Hassid would ban all human, animal and celestial depictions, a more liberal position from this perspective permits animal images.  And, while that position doesn’t explicitly permit a depiction half-animal half-human, the zoophilic images appear to show they were allowed, as the illuminator and owner of the Birds Head Haggadah agreed with that position.
            Aside from halakha, and the meaning or lack thereof behind “birds”, a close examination how the illuminator used this convention yields surprising nuance and commentary.      
While most of the images carry a bird’s head, there are a few exceptions. Most notably, non-Jews, both corporeal and spiritual do not. Instead, non-Jewish humans as well as angels have blank circles instead of faces. But, there is one scene that poses a problem. One illustration shows the Jews fleeing Egypt (all with birds’ heads), being pursued by Pharaoh and his army. Pharaoh and his army are depicted faceless.

  But, unlike the rest of the figures in Pharaoh’s army, two figures appear with birds’ heads. Some write this off to carelessness on the illustrator’s part. Epstein, who credits his (then) ten-year old son for a novel explanation, offers that these two figures are Datan and Aviram, two prominent members of the erev rav, those Jews who elected to remain behind. Indeed, they are brandishing whips indicative of their role as nogsim (Jewish taskmasters, or the precursor to Jewish Sonderkommando). While the illustrator included them with the Egyptians, he still allowed them to remain with their “Jewish” bird’s head.  This is a powerful idea regarding the idea of sin, and specifically, the Jewish view that even when a Jew sins, they still retain their Jewish identity – their “birds head.”   Sin, and including sinners as Jews, are motifs that are highlighted on Pesach with the mention of the wicked son and perhaps is also indicated with this illustration. The illustrator could have left Datan and Aviram out entirely or decided to mark them some other way rather than the Birds’ head. Thus, utilizing this explanation allows for the illustrator to enable a broader discussion about not only the exodus and the Egyptian army’s chase, but expands the discussion to sin, repentance, Jewish identity, inclusiveness and exclusiveness and other related themes.[16]

            Once we have identified the Jews within the haggadah, we need to discuss another nuance in their depiction.  The full dress of the adult male bird is one with a beard and a “Jewish hat,” pieus conutus – a peaked hat, or the Judenhut.  Children and young servants are bareheaded.  But, there are three other instances of bareheadness that are worthy of discussion.  (1) Joseph in Egypt, (2) the Jews in Egypt and (3) Datan and Aviram.  The similarity between all three is that each depicts a distance from god or Jewish identity.  Joseph, unrecognizable to his brothers, a stranger in a strange land, and while inwardly a Jew, externally that was not the case.

            The Jews in Egypt had sunk to the deepest depths on impurity, far from God. Finally, as we discussed previously, Datan and Aviram are also removed from god and the Jewish people.  Again, the illustrator is depicting Jews – they all have the griffin heads – but they are distinct in their interaction with god and the Jewish people.[17]  

Using this interpretation of the griffin images, yields yet another subtle point regarding inclusion, and also injects some humor into the haggadah.  The dayenu panel has splitting of the sea, the manna and the giving of the Torah.  The middle panel is less clear. Some posit that it is the Jews celebrating at the sea, but there is no indication of that because in most manuscripts, that includes Miriam, and the Egyptians drowning, not just five random images.

   
Instead, it appears that the person to the left is speaking (his hand is over his heart a medieval convention to indicate speech), and they are approaching the older figure on the left.  All are griffin headed and Judenhut attired – so Jews and regular ones. Between the splitting of the sea and the manna and quails the Jews complained to Moses.  Its possible that this is what is being depicted here, the complaining Jews, and the illustration serves as a testament to God’s patience and divine plan, the theme of dayenu, that even though we complained and did X, God still brought the manna, quail and Torah.[18] 

            If these are in fact the complainers, we can theorize about another detail of the image.  Above the figure at the left and the right, is faint cursive (enhanced here for visibility as much as possible) that reads: “Dass ist der Meirer (this is Meir) Dass ist der Eisik (this is Issac).”[19]  Thus Meir and Issac are being chided – but not kicked out – for complaining too much (rather than representing an unclear image of the Jews celebrating at the sea or just evidencing poor dancing). 


            Continuing through the dayenu we get to the giving of the Torah, and again, the nuance of the illustrator is apparent

.

            Two tablets were given at Sinai, but the actual Pentateuch is comprised of 5 books.  Thus, to capture that the 5 are a continuity of the two, as they are transmitted down, they transform into five tablets.  What about the ram/lamb at the bottom?  Some have suggested that it is the Golden Calf. But it is unlikely that such a negative incident would be included.  Instead, assuming that continuity or tradition is the theme, this lamb is representative of pesah dorot that is an unbroken tradition back to Sinai and unconnected with the Christian idea of Jesus as a stand in for the lamb.  Immediately prior to dayenu we have the Pesach mitzrayim with the figure’s cloak blowing back due to the haste.

       Thus, the dayenu is bracketed by the historic Pesach and the modern one – all part of the same tradition. [20]  

            It is worth mentioning that the Birds’ Head Haggadah is currently in the news. An item recently appeared about how the heirs of Ludwig Marum and his wife Johanna Benedikt, the owners of the haggadah prior to the Nazi era, are pressing the Israel Museum to recognize their family’s title, and pay them a large sum of money (but only a fraction of its estimated value). The Israel Museum acquired the haggadah for $600 from a German Jewish refugee in 1946.  (link).

            Turning to Spain, one of the most beautiful illuminated haggadot is the “Golden Haggadah.”  Just as the Ashkenazi Bird’s Head has depth to the illustrations, the Golden Haggadah can be mined for similar purpose.  Each folio is comprised of four panels.  And while they appear to simply depict the biblical narrative, they are so much more. 

            In an early panel we have Nimrod throwing Abraham into the fire and later Pharaoh throwing the males in the Nile, both Nimrod and Pharaoh are similarly depicted, on the throne, with a pointed finger indicating their equivalence in denying god. 

            The folio showing the Joseph story has the brothers pointing in the same manner as Pharaoh and Nimrod – the illustrator showing his disdain for the mistreatment and betrayal and equating it with the others.

            But, that is not all.  Counting the panels there are 9 between Nimrod and Joseph and 9 between Joseph and Pharaoh.  Taken together, these illustrations “renders an implicit critique of the attitude of that Jewish history is nothing but an endless stream of persecution of innocent Israel by the bloodthirsty gentiles.  Yes, it is acknowledged, these gentile kinds might behave villainously in their persecution of Jews.  But groundless hatred between brother and brother is on par with such terrible deeds, and sometimes sinat hinam can precipitated treachery as destructive as persecution by inveterate enemies.”[21]

            One other striking feature of the Golden Haggadah is the inclusion of women. There are no fewer than 46 prominent depictions of women in the haggadah.  Indeed, one reading of the exodus scene has a woman with a baby at the forefront leading the Jews out of Egypt behind Moses.

            This may be a reference to the midrash that “in the merit of the righteous women the Jews were redeemed.”[22]  The difference in the exodus scene is particularly striking if one compares it to the Ashkenaz Haggadah – Moses clearly at the front, and the most prominent woman in the back.


Of course, it is completely appropriate for the inclusion of women in the haggadah as women and men are equally obligated to participate in the seder. Another example of the prominence that woman play in the Golden Haggadah iconography is the scene of Miriam singing includes the largest images in the haggadah, the women occupying the full panel.  We don’t know why the illustrator chose to highlight women – was it for a patron or at a specific request.[23] 
The Golden Haggadah is not the only manuscript that includes women in a prominent role in the illustrations.  The Darmstadt Haggadah includes two well-known illuminations that place woman at the center.  The illuminations adoring other Darmstadt serve a different purpose than the Golden or Birds’ Head, they are purely aesthetic.[24]  Thus, the inclusion of women may not be linked to anything in particular.  At the same time, it is important to note that in terms of reception, that is, how the reader viewed it, the focus on women was not cause for consternation. One other note regarding the haggadah, the last panel is a depiction fountain of youth.  Note that men and woman are bathing – nude – together, which seems odd to a modern viewer (and, again, apparently did not to the then contemporary reader).  And, while admittedly not exactly the same, the 14th century R. Samuel ben Baruch of Bamberg (a teacher of R. Meir of Rothenberg) permitted a non-Jewish woman to bath a man so long as it was in public to reduce the likelihood of anything untoward occurring.[25] 

Before we leave the Darmstadt Haggadah, we need to examine the panel facing the Fountain of Youth. This panel depicts a deer hunt.

 As mentioned above, this image is not connected to the text and instead is solely for aesthetic purposes.  The hunting motif is common in many medieval manuscripts, and in some a unicorn is substituted for a deer.  While the unicorn has Christological meaning, on some occasions it also appears in Hebrew manuscripts.[26]

While the use of the hunting scene in the Darmstadt Haggadah was unconnected to the haggadah, in others it was deployed for substantive purpose.[27] [As an aside, it is possible that Jews participated, possibly Rabbenu Tam, in hunting, or at least its falconry form.[28]] As is well-known, the inclusion of the hare hunt is to conjure the Talmudic mnemonic regarding the appropriate sequence over the wine, candle, and the other required blessings, or YaKeNHaZ.  “To Ashkenazic Jews, YaKeNHaZ sounded like the German Jagen-has, ‘hare hunt,’ which thereby came to be illustrated as such in the Haggadah.”[29]

 Generally, Jews seem to have issues with botany.  We struggle to identify which of the handful of fruits and vegetables mention in the Bible and Talmud. But on Passover, the marror an undefined term, proves particularly illusory. Today, there is no consistency regarding what is used for marror with it running the gamut from iceberg lettuce to horseradish root. While we may not be able to identify it with specificity, we know what its supposed to taste like – bitter.  Manuscripts may provide some direction here.  There are two depictions in illuminated haggadot.  One of a leafy green, found in numerous examples, from a fragment from the Cairo Geniza to the Birds’ Head, and that of an artichoke.[30]  If it is a leafy green, it must be a bitter one – and that changes based upon time, place and palate.  For example, 30 years ago romaine lettuce was only the bitter lettuce widely available. But, among lettuces, it is far from bitter, and today, there are a variety of truly bitter lettuces available, arugula, mustard greens, dandelion, mesclun, etc.  Another leafy and very bitter option that is found in illuminated haggadot is the artichoke.  The artichoke is extremely bitter without proper preparation.  Indeed, from just touching the leaves and putting them in your mouth you can taste the bitterness.  The Sarajevo Haggadah and brother to the Rylands both have artichokes.

            The association of the artichoke with Passover is more obvious when one accounts for Italian culinary history.  Specifically, artichokes are associated with Jews and Passover. Carcoifi alla giudia – literally Jewish style artichokes “is among the best known dishes of Roman Jewish cuisine.” Artichokes are a spring thistle and traditionally served at Passover in Italy.  Whether or not from a culinary history this dish sprung from the use of raw artichoke for marror is not known, but we can say with certainty that artichokes have a considerable history when it comes to Passover. 

Horseradish only became popular, in all likelihood, because an early Pesach, would be too soon for any greens and thus they were left with horseradish – which is not bitter at all, instead it is spicy or more particularly hot.  In Galicia in the 19th century the use of horseradish was so ingrained that  permission was even granted and affirmed for people to use less than a kezayit  and still recite the blessing. In light of this, the custom yields the possibility that all sort of other spicy items be used for marror including very hot jalapeño peppers, for example.[31] Since we are discussing herbs, it is also worth noting that recently rulings regarding the use of marijuana and Pesach have been issued both in Israel and the United States (here), for our discussion on marijuana and Pesach please see here.

            One manuscript captures the uncertain identification of marror.  In the Tubingen Haggadah, the place where the illustration for marror is left blank, presumably to permit the owner to fill in what they are accustomed to use.

            Marror is not the only vegetable that is eaten during the seder, another difficult to identify is the karpas.  Today there are a variety of items used, and in reality, any dip-able vegetable will suffice, historically, it seems that lettuce or celery was used. The Birds Head provides that “lattich (lettuce) and eppich (celery) should be used. These are traditional salad foods, which, in the normal course of things, would be dipped or tossed with a dressing.  A dressing can be a simple as vinegar, and indeed, in many medieval haggadot, hometz or vinegar is used to dip.  We can trace the change from the more obviously salad oriented vinegar to saltwater where in the Darmstadt Haggadah, a later hand wrote on top of hometz – mei melekh.  While it appears nearly universal that hometz was used, its disfavor may be connected to a rule unrelated to Passover.  Since the Middle Ages, there is a dispute whether or not vinegar falls under the ambit of stam yenam.  Thus, the change to saltwater may be more of a reflection about views on what constitutes stam yenam and less to do with tears.

            One final food item is the haroset preparation.  Apples are familiar and linked to the midrash regarding birthing under an apple tree, in the Rothschild Machzor and the 2nd Nuremburg haggadah, cinnamon is called for because “it resembles straw.”  It also concludes that “some incorporate clay into the haroset to remind them of the mortar. For those wanting to replicate this addition, edible clay, kaolin, is now easily procured, and there is even a preparation that creates stone-like potatoes, perfect for the seder.
            To be continued… but until then see these posts Halakha & Haggadah, and regarding some illustrations in the iconic Prague 1526 Haggadah, here and also Elliot Horowitz’s discussion.

[1] E.L. Sukenik, The Dura-Europa Synagogue and its Art, Bialik Press, Jerusalem:1947. See also, Gabrielle Sed-Rajna, Jewish Art, transl. Sara Friedman & Mira Reich, Harry N. Abrams, Inc., New York: 1997, 9-13; 20-29;114-39.
[2] Two Prague Haggadahs, Valmadonna Trust Library, Italy:1978, 16 n.16 (the citation should read p. 435, not p. 345)
[3] Binyamin Richler, Hebrew Manuscripts: A Treasured Legacy, Cleveland/Jerusalem: Ofeq Institute, 1990, 20.
[4] Id. at 58.
[5] Colette Sirat, Hebrew Manuscripts of the Middle Ages, ed. & transl. Nicholas de Lange, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002, 234.
[6] Id. 242-43.
[7] R. N. Rabinowitz, Dikdukei Soferim, Munich: E. Hovner, 1881, vol. 11, Tractate Baba Bathera, 7. 
[8] Sirat, Hebrew Manuscripts, 235-38.
[9] Richler, Hebrew Manuscripts, 45.
[10] Id. 48.
[11] Interestingly, illuminated haggadot did not end with the introduction of printing, there are a number from the 18th century and beyond.
[12] See B. Narkiss, Hebrew Illuminated Manuscripts, Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House, 1969, 106.
[13] Richler, Hebrew Manuscripts, 47.
[14] Marc Michael Epstein, The Medieval Haggadah: Art, Narrative, and Religious Imagination, New Haven & London: Yale University Press, 2011, 50-51. See the other discussions of this book, here.
[15] Id. 51.
[16] Id. 51-53, 71-72.  Much of the discussion regarding this haggadah and the Golden Haggadah is reliant upon Epstein’s thorough analysis of these manuscripts.
[17] Id. 65-68, 71-72.
[18] Id. 87-90.
[19] M. Spitzer & B. Narkiss, “General Description of the Manuscript,” in The Bird’s Head Haggada of the Bezalel National Art Museum in Jerusalem, ed. by M. Spitzer, Tarshish Books: Jerusalem, 1967, 23.
[20] Epstein, The Medieval Haggadah, 90-91.
[21] Id. 162.
[22] Id. 178.
[23] Id. 185-86.
[24] Narkiss, Hebrew Illuminated Manuscripts, 126.
[25] Elliot Horowitz, “Between Cleanliness and Godliness,” in Tov Elem: Memory, Community & Gender in Medieval & Early Modern Jewish Societies, ed. E. Baumgarten, et al., Bialik Institute, Jerusalem:2011, *38-*39.
[26] Piet van Boxel, “The Virgin & the Unicorn: A Christian Symbol in a Hebrew Prayer Manuscript,” in Crossing Borders, Hebrew Manuscripts as a Meeting-place of Cultures, ed. Piet van Boxel & Sabine Arndt, Bodleian Library, University of Oxford:2009, 57-68.
[27] The hare hunt image appears in Seder Zimerot u-Birkat ha-Mazon, Prague 1514, in the Shevuot portion.  Of course, the mnemonic applies to any holiday that potentially falls on a Saturday night.  See B. Roth, “Printed Illustrated Hebrew Haggadot,” Areshet, vol. 3 (1961), 8.  
[28] See Leor Jacobi, “Jewish Hawking in Medieval France: Falconry, Rabbenu Tam, and the Tosefists,” in Oqimta 1 (2013) 421-504, available here.
[29] Y. Yerushalmi, Haggadah & History, The Jewish Publication Society, United States:1997, plate 15.
[30] The various manuscript depictions of marror are collected in Mendel Metzger, La Haggada Enluminee, Brill, Leiden:1973, figs. 242-65.
[31]  Levi Cooper, “Bitter Herb in Hasidic Galicia,” Jewish Studies, an Internet Journal, vol. 12, 2013 (available here). 


R. Elazar Fleckeles’s Haggadah Maaseh BR’ Elazar

|
R.  Elazar Fleckeles’s Haggadah Maaseh BR’ Elazar
By Eliezer Brodt
In the past I wrote:
Perhaps the topic which has engendered the most commentary in Jewish literature is the Haggadah shel Pesach. There are all kinds, in all languages, and with all types of commentary, pictures, etc. Whatever style one can think of, not one, but many Haggadahs have been written. So, whether it’s derush, kabbalah, halakha, mussar or chassidus there are plenty of Haggadahs out there. Then, there are people who specialize in collecting haggadahs although they do not regularly collect seforim. In almost every Jewish house today one can find many kinds of Haggadahs. Every year people print new ones; even people who had never written on the Haggadah have had a Haggadah published under their name, based on culling their other writings and collecting material on the Haggadah. When one goes to the seforim store before Pesach it has become the custom to buy at least one new Haggadah; of course one finds themselves overwhelmed not knowing which to pick! Every year, besides for the new Haggadahs being printed, old ones are reprinted, some in photo off-set editions, others with completely retype set.
Some years there are many choices of what to buy; in recent years, while the quantity of Haggadahs being printed has not ebbed, the quality most arguably has. This year, one important and high quality Haggadah that has been retype-set and republished is Maaseh BR’ Elazar by R’ Elazar Fleckeles.
R’ Elazar Fleckeles was born in 1754 in Prague and died there in 1826. He was a direct descendant of R’ Ephraim Luntschitz, author of the Keli Yakar, whom R’ Fleckeles quotes many times throughout his writings. When R’ Fleckeles was 14, he went to study with R’ Ezekiel Landau and spent ten years studying there. R’ Landau, as is evident from his haskamot to R’ Fleckeles works, held R’ Fleckeles in high regard. Additionally, many teshuvot in R’ Landau’s Noda b’Yehuda are addressed to R’ Fleckeles. In R’ Fleckeles’s writings, he quotes many interesting statements from R’ Landau. When R’ Fleckeles was twenty-four, he became the Rabbi of Kojetin, a town in Moravia. However, just four years later R’ Fleckeles returned to Prague to sit on R’ Landau’s Bet Din and serve as a head of a yeshiva. [See also here and here].R’ Fleckeles authored many works on halakha and derush, as well as a commentary on the Haggadah called Maaseh BR’ Elazar. R’ Fleckeles was a skilled halakhist, as is evident from his volumes of responsa, Teshuva m’Ahavah, but his fame also rests on his skills as a darshan. His derashot were published in a four volumes, Olat Chodesh. The fourth volume contains, R’ Fleckeles series of derashot he gave against Shabbatai Tzvi and Jacob Frank (this section has a separate title, Ahavat David) [recently auctioned off as noted here].

Almost all of his works besides his Teshuva m’Ahavah, are very hard to find.
A few years ago a new Boro Park-based Machon called Netzach Yaakov started reprinting his seforim. In 2014 they printed a volume of his Drashot related to Elul and Tishrei along with two works, Chazon LaMoed and Olat Chodesh (437+20 pp.). This beautifully produced work, including an introduction about R’ Fleckeles and a detailed index, matches the content of the actual Drashot.
 A few weeks ago this company released a new edition of his commentary on the Haggadah: Maaseh BR’ Elazar (224 +23 pp).
The Maharil noted in a drasha that he gave before Rosh Hashonah:
כל אדם יחזור וילמוד התפלה והקרובץ מקודם להיות שגורים בפיו בר”ה בשעת התפלה. וכן ילמוד בניו ובני ביתו סדר התפלה, ויריצם סדר הברכות ומלכיות זכרונות ושופרות, כדי שלא יצטרך בר”ה להפסיק בין גאולה לתפלה להראות להם אז הסדר, כי צריכנא לסמוך גם ביום טוב גאולה לתפלה. [וכשחל ר”ה בשבת כל שכן – דצריך אדם לסדר להרגיל התפילה להראות לבני ביתו בתחילה – דאז משנין בכמה מקומות התפילה – והקרובץ [מהרי”ל, עמ’ רעב]
 But specifically more instructive is the Sefer Hamaskil‘s comment:
מה טוב ומה נעים לעיין תמיד דבר בעתו בכל שבוע ושבוע בפירוש חומש ומחזיר וסליחות… ואגדת פסח [ספר המשכיל עמ’ 70].
His basic point being that one should try to prepare before each occasion the tefilos we specific to that occasion – and for Pesach that is the Haggadah.
Many people look all over each year to have nice new pieces of Torah to say over at the seder. This work is full of nice (many) shorter pieces focusing on Peshat and Derush (not Kabbalah) which can be enjoyed by different audiences.
Some General comments on this work;
This Haggadah was first printed by the author in Prague in 1818.
Abraham Yaari, in his work A Bibliography of the Passover Haggadah, writes about this work:
הפרט העברי ככתבו עולה תקע”ב אולם יש לקרוא את שני היודין של השם כשם הויה, ואז יעלה תקע”ח, בהתאם לשנה הלועזית 1818, ולהסכמת הצנזור שניתנה באוקטובר 1817 [מספר 418]
For recent Discussion of other works with similar wording see Yakov Speigel Amudim be-Toldot ha-Sefer ha-Ivri; BeSharei HaDefus, pp. 273-296.
In 1944 in Oradea, Romania this work was printed again. It appears that this was the last Haggadah printed in Europe during World War Two. To me it is fascinating that in this turmoil time they bothered to print this work.
Yaari records this edition [number 2308] as does Yitzchak Yudolov in The Haggadah Thesaurus [number 3918]
This 1944 edition has an interesting addition, as noted by the publisher. Into the text of the Haggadah the prelude Li Shem Yichud was added:
 ולא הוספתי עליו רק מה שנוהגים לומר לפני כל מצוה לשיחקב”ה וכו’ [=לשם יחוד קודשא…] הצגתי כהסכמת הגאון משאמלויא שליט”א…
In R’ Ehreneich’s second letter to the publisher he writes:

 אבל בזמנינו נתפשט המנהג
של צדיקי הדורות זי”ע לאמרו והגאון המחבר זצ”ל שהוא בעולם האמת
בודאי לא יקפיד ע”ז ויאחז כאו”א ויעשה כמנהגו…

 

Although it’s very nice that they decided to add this into R’ Fleckeles work and not hide this addition but I do not think they had any right to do such a thing. R’ Fleckeles was very outspoken about saying Li Shem Yichud, to say the least.
דרך כלל יאות לבטל כל התחנו’ ובקשות אלו וכיוצא בהן שנתחדשו מלקוטי האחרונים ומעיד אני עלי שמים וארץ שראיתי אחד הי’ רצה לברך על אתרוג המהודר של רבינו הגאון האמתי נ”ע (כי הי’ תמיד מהדר מן המהדרין אחר אתרוג המהודר בכל מיני הידור וכסף וזהב לא הי’ נחשב בעיניו מאומ’ אף שהאתרוג הי’ בתכלית היוקר) וכאשר ראה שאותו פלוני אמר יה”ר קודם נטילת לולב (הנדפס במחזורים ובלקוטי צבי) כעס ורגז ואמר בקצף גדול האומר יה”ר אינו מניחו לברך על אתרוג שלו ולא הניחו לברך ועיין מ”ש רבינו בספרו נ”ב חלק א”ח סי’ ל”ה דף כ’ ע”ג ובחלק י”ד סי’ צ”ג והרבה יש לי לדבר בענינים האלה וכאלה ומרוב טרדותי לא אוכל להאריך [שו”ת תשובה מאהבה, א, סוף סי’ א][1]
He was following in the path of his Rebbe, the Nodeh BeYehudah, who as is well known was adamantly against the saying of Li Shem Yichud:
ועל הרביעית אשר שאל בנוסח לשם יחוד אשר חדשים מקרוב נתפשט ונדפס בסידור הנה בזה אני משיב עד שאתה שואלני נוסח אמירתו יותר ראוי לשאול אם נאמר כי טוב באמירתו. ולדעתי זה רעה חולה בדורנו ועל הדורות שלפני זמננו שלא ידעו מנוסח זה ולא אמרוהו והיו עמלים כל ימיהם בתורה ובמצות הכל ע”פ התורה וע”פ הפוסקים אשר דבריהם נובעים ממקור מים חיים ים התלמוד עליהם נאמר תומת ישרים תנחם והם הם אשר עשו פרי למעלה וגדול מעל שמים חסדם. אבל בדורנו הזה כי עזבו את תורת ה’ ומקור מים חיים שני התלמודים בבלי וירושלמי לחצוב להם בורות נשברים ומתנשאים ברום לבבם כל אחד אומר אנכי הרואה ולי נפתחו שערי שמים ובעבורי העולם מתקיים אלו הם מחריבי הדור. ועל הדור היתום הזה אני אומר ישרים דרכי ה’ וצדיקים ילכו בהם וחסידים יכשלו בם. והרבה היה לי לדבר מזה אבל כשם שמצוה לומר דבר הנשמע כך מצוה שלא לומר דבר שאינו נשמע וה’ ירחם עלינו. עי”ש באריכות. [נודע ביהודה (קמא) יו”ד, סי’ צג].
A few months ago I mentioned the censorship of this Teshuvah.
This topic of saying Li Shem Yichud will hopefully be discussed at a different time.[2] But just to add some sources.
In 1805, R’ Menachem Mendel of Shklov, one of the main talmidim of the Vilna Gaon, printed the Gra’s work on the Haggadah for the first time.

Before Maggid it says:
הנני מוכן ומזומן לקיים המצוה לספר ביציאת מצרים לשם יחוד הקב”ה…
In a recent edition of the Gaon’s Haggadah the editor writes:
והנה אין גילוי מפורש בדעת רבינו הגר”א ז”ל באמירת לשם יחוד אך אילו ידע רמ”מ ז”ל שרבינו ז”ל מתנגד לאמירתה בוודאי לא היה מדפיסה… [ר’ חנן נובל, הגדה של פסח עם פירוש הגר”א, ירושלים תשע”ג, עמ’ כט, עי”ש].[3]
This same passage appears in later prints of the Gra Haggadah including one printed in Prague in 1813 at the time R’ Fleckeles was very active there. [Worth noting is the censor was R’ Fleckeles friend, Karl Fisher].

Even though it is unclear what the Gra held about saying Li Shem Yichud, another talmid of his appears to write against it. Here is what R’ Menashe M’IIlyah writes about it in Alfei Menashe:

In the beginning of the Haggadah, R’ Fleckeles deals with the famous question as to why there is no Beracha on Sipur Yetzias Mitzrayim, quoting a Shut Besamim Rosh on the topic [see here]. A few lines later he quotes the real Shut HaRosh, with this preface:
ובתשובות הרא”ש המקובלת לנו ראיתי…
Returning to this newest edition of the Maaseh BR’ Elazar.
One nice piece in this Haggadah is his discussion against his Rebbe, the Nodeh Beyhudah, about the Issur of Chametz in Mitzrayim.
He writes:
הנה חדשים מקרוב נדפס ספר מערבי וראיתי…
The current editors do not write to which sefer he is referring. This is the work he is referring to, first printed in 1793:

In 1959, Yitzchak Refael printed numerous additions to this Haggadah in the journal Sinai (45: 22-36). The source of these addenda is R’ Fleckeles personal copy, which he had specially bound with added on margins and blank pages inserted between each page, affording the author ample room for marginalia. After passing through several hands, finally arriving in R’ Maimon’s library. This new version of the work includes all of these addenda, in their proper places. Interestingly enough, neither Yaari nor Yudolov mention these additions in their entries on this Haggadah.Returning to Li Shem Yichud Sharon Flatto writes in her ‘The Kabbalistic Culture of Eighteenth Century Prague’:

Notably a Haggadah was recently discovered that was owned during the late 1780s by Fleckeles…. The margins of this Haggadah contain leshem Yihud formulas to be recited before the blessing on the the four cups of wine penned in Fleckeles’ hand.

In the footnote she writes they seem to have been written between 1784-1790.'(pp. 225-226). While I wish I had more clearer sources about this discovery. She does not note that the Haggadah that R’ Fleckeles himself printed in Prague in 1818 nor in the manuscript updates of R’ Fleckeles to his own Haggadah does he write to say Li Shem Yichud or any such Tefilah in the Haggadah. This newest edition of the Maaseh BR’ Elazar prints the Haggadah like R’ Fleckeles did in 1818 without Li Shem Yichud.

Besides for all these new pieces added into this new edition, the volume also includes a well-written introduction about R’ Fleckeles, including an interesting eye witness account from manuscript of the day he died in Prague. Another plus to the new edition are the numerous sources they added, at times quoting R’ Fleckeles references from his other works.  Finally, there is a very useful index of topics and seforim quoted by R’ Fleckeles at the end of the volume. I really hope they continue to print the rest of R’ Fleckeles works.
To purchase this Haggadah try Girsa in Jerusalem, Biegeleisen in NY or your local seforim store.
Appendix:

One of the seforim noticeably omitted, for the most part, from R’ Fleckeles works, including this Haggadah, is the Zohar.
Much of the sources in R’ Fleckeles writings regarding the Zohar and Kabalah in general has been gathered in Boaz Huss’ recent work, KeZohar Harokeyah (pp. 322-323). Most notable is this piece which I quote here in its entirety:
ועתה אין מן הצורך להשיב את האיש אשר רצה להמצי’ דבר חדש להשביע את האיש הישראלי בספר הזוהר… את זה כתבתי לדעת האיש ההוא שהספר הזוהר כלו קדוש אבל אני אומר הריני נשבע בתורת ה’ שבספר הזוהר נמצאו כמה זיופים וקלקולים אשר הוסיפו ועלה אחת מתלמוד בבלי הויות דאביי ורבא קדוש יותר מכל ספר הזוהר הנה אם אמרו חכמי התלמוד על ברייתא דלא מתנייא בי ר’ חייא ור’ אושיעא מאן ימר דמתרצתא היא דלמא משבשתא היא וספר הזה ודאי לאו בר”ח ורב אושיעא אתמר כי כל הדורות מראש לא זכרו מספר הזוהר מאומה לא בהקיץ ולא בחלום כי הנה אם אמת הדבר שהחבור הזה הוא מהתנא ר’ שמעון בר יוחאי אשר ר’ יהודה הנשיא קבל גם ממנו כמבואר בהקדמ’ הרמב”ם לספרו יד החזק’ איך לא זכר את הספר הזה בחבורו ש”ס משניות או בשום מקום ואף ר’ יוחנן שחיבר תלמוד ירושלמית אינו מזכירו בשום מקום ורבינא ורב אשי שחברו תלמוד בבלי מאה שנים אחר חבור תלמוד ירושלמי והיו סוף אמוראים ולא שמו רמז בכל התלמוד מספר הזוהר ורבה בר נחמני שחובר רבות ושוחר טוב וכיוצא בהם הרבה לא זכרו מחבור רשב”י גם רבנן סבוראי והגאונים והרי”ף והרמב”ם ורש”י ותוס’ והרמב”ן והרשב”א והרא”ש והטור והילקוט שמעוני אשר אסף ולקט כל המדרשות והמכילתות והברייתות כלם לא ידעו ולא ראו ממנו דבר עד שזה קרו’ לשלש מאות שנים ענו ואמרו שמצאוהו ואיזהי כנסיה אשר קבלוהו בכנופיה, כמו תלמוד בבלי וירושל’ וז”ל הרמב”ם בהקדמתו לספר יד החזקה אבל כל הדברים שבגמרא הבבלי חייבין כל ישראל ללכת בהם וכופין כל עיר ועיר וכל מדינה ומדינה לנהוג בכל המנהגות שנהגו חכמי הגמרא ולגזור גזירותם וללכת בתקנותם הואיל וכל אותם דברים שבגמרא הסכימו עליהם כל ישראל עכ”ל ויעיין עוד שם ואין אני חלילה מטיל דופי ופגם בכבוד התנא אלדי ר’ שמעון בר יוחאי כי הוא היה מחסידי עליון אלא אני אומר לאו גושפנקא דרשב”י ועזקתיה חתום עליה ומי שיש לו חצי דעת יגיד כן שהרי נזכרו בספר הזוהר כמה תנאים ואמוראי’ שהיו אחר רשב”י שנים רבות במספר והארכתי בזה במקום אחר מפי סופרים ומפי ספרים כמבואר בס’ מטפחת להגאון מו”ה יעב”ץ זצלל”ה שגזר אומר שחלו בו ידים מזייפים וחשד את החכם ר’ משה דיליון יעיי”ש.
והינה מיום שנתחדש ספר הזוהר הרבה נכשלו ע”י כי כמה דברים סתומים וחתומים אשר המציאו האחרוני’ להתעות בני אדם יושבי חשך השכל, צאו וראו כמה קלקולים רבים קלקלו מאמיני הכלב רע שבתי צבי שבור ואחוזת מרעהו ברכי מסאלנוקא ויעקב פראנק שם רשעים ירקב, ותלו דבריהם בספר הזוהר אשר בודאי לא יאונה לצדיק ר’ שמעון בר יוחאי כל און.
מה טוב ומה נעים, אשר כתבתי בחבורי קטן אשר קראתיו בשם קונטרס אהבת דוד שנדפס בק”ק פראג תק”ס וזה לשוני שם באו ונחזיק טובה וחינות לשני מלכים גדולי אדירי’ אדוננו המשובח המנוח הקיסר יאזעף השני ואדוננו המהולל הקיסר פראנץ השני אשר צפו והביטו בחכמתם הנפלאה, רבות רעות ושבושי דעות תסתעפנה מחלומות והבלים המקובלים, והמה לנזקי בני האדם נזקי הגופות ונזקי הנפשות, ופקדו באזהרה גדולה שלא להביא ספרי קבלה בכל מדינות מלכותם הפקודה הראשונה העכסט האף דעקרעט פאם ב’ נאוועמבר למספרם והשני פאם ז’ יוני למספרם והארכתי שמה בדברים נכונים… (תשובה מאהבה חלק א סי’ כו).
According to Shmuel Werses, Haskalah and Sabbatianism, (Heb.), pp. 68 and Boaz Huss, KeZohar Harokeyah (p.323) this teshuvah has been censored out of the 1912 edition of TM. I have been unable to independently confirm this, as the 1912 editions I have seen (both in NLI and in BIU) have it in full – as do most reprints available today, including the edition found on the HebrewBooks.org website
In another teshuvah on this topic R’ Fleckeles writes:
ובלא”ה כבר כתבתי פעמי’ רבות שאין ראי’ מזוהר שלא נודע ברור מי הוא המאסף והמלקט ספר הזוהר והרבה הוסיפו  (תשובה מאהבה א:סב).
It is worth pointing out that R’ Fleckeles does not dismiss the Zohar completely taking it into account elsewhere in TM; for example in this teshuvah he writes:
מה ששאלני מדוע רובא דעלמא מקילים והולכים בבקר ד’ אמות בלי נטילת ידים שחרית הא כבר כתב המ”א בשם הב”ח בשם תולעת יעקב כל ההולך ד’ אמות בלי נטילת ידים שחרית חייב מית’ עיי”ש וכמה בני תורה אשר אינם שוגגים מקילים ואין להם על מה שיסמכו. ידע ידידי שדבר זה כתב בעל תועלת יעקב בשם הזוהר וכן העתיקו הב”ח, והמג”א השמיט בשם הזהר או מן השמים השמיטוהו כי חפשתי בספר הזוהר יגעתי ולא מצאתי ובעל א”ר האמין לשמועותיו בשם הזוהר והאר”י וצדר להקל עיין סי”א סק”ד ולבסוף מסיק בשם ספר דמשק אליעזר שדבר זה  דוקא בזמנם כמו גילוי וזוגות עיין שם ולענ”ד ליתא בזוהר כלל והרב בית יוסף אשר העתיק בכל פעם דברי הזוהר לא שם רמז מזה ושארי לי’ מארי’ שעשה רוב ישראל לחייבי מיתות שוגגן ישרים יחזו במסכת ברכות דף  סמ”ך ע”ב ישר יחזו פנימו ולענ”ד היא משנת חסידים והזריז הרי זה משובח ואפשר דזוהר מיירי אם מים מצוים לפניו והולך ד’ אמות בלי נטילת ידים ואח”ז ה’ אנה לידי ספר ברכי יוסף וראיתי שמביא דברי הזוהר כת”י וסיים וזה לשונו אלא דשמיע לי מרבני קדישו דזמנין דמיא הרחק מאד מאדם ובלכתם ילכו פחות מד’ אמות כאותה שאמרו גבי שבת עיין שם סימן א’ אות א’ ולשון הזוהר אינו לפני לעיין והנרא’ לענ”ד כתבתי. (תשובה מאהבה חלק א סי’ יד וראה חלק ב סי’ א אות ד)
As an aside, the shitos of R. Fleckeles on the Zohar are bland compared to those of his Rebbe, the Noda Beyehudah, as found in the recently printed drasha of his from manuscript by Dr. Maoz Kahana and M. Silber. I note in passing that this drasha has sparked a debate between them and Dr. Flatto, to which she responded in a later version of the journal Kabbalah.

 

[1]  See also his Melechas Hakodesh, p. 132
[reviewed here].
[2]  See Moshe Hallamish, Kabbalah (Heb.),
pp. 45-70; Maoz Kahane, MiHaNoda BiYehuda LaHatam Sofer, pp. 89-91 and
pp. 235-236; most recently Shimon Szimonowitz, Haggadah
Aleh Zeis (2016), pp. 35-78.
[3]  Thanks to R’ Dovid Vieder for this source.


New book announcement: Professor David Henshke’s work on the Seder Night

|
Book announcement:  New work on the Seder Night
By Eliezer Brodt
דוד הנקשה, מה נשתנה: ליל הפסח בתלמודם של חכמים,
מגנס, 626 עמודים
I am very happy to announce the publication of an important work (in time for Pesach) which I have been eagerly awaiting; Professor David Henshke of the Talmud Department at Bar Ilan University’s long awaited volume, Ma Nishtanah: Leil HaPesach BiTalmudam shel Chachamim. The book was printed by Magnes Press.
Why am I excited about this work?
A few years ago I wrote:
Perhaps the topic which has engendered the most commentary in Jewish literature is the Haggadah shel Pesach. There are all kinds, in all languages, and with all types of commentary, pictures, etc. Whatever style one can think of, not one, but many Haggadahs have been written. So, whether it’s derush, kabbalah, halakha, mussar or chassidus there are plenty of Haggadahs out there. Then, there are people who specialize in collecting haggadahs although they do not regularly collect seforim. In almost every Jewish house today one can find many kinds of Haggadahs. In 1901 Shmuel Wiener, in A Bibliography of the Passover Haggadah, started to list all the different printings of the Haggadah. Later, in 1960, Abraham Yaari, in his work A Bibliography of the Passover Haggadah, restarted the listing and reached the number 2700. After that, many bibliographers added ones which Yaari omitted. In 1997, Yitzchak Yudlov printed his bibliography on the Haggadah,  The Haggadah Thesaurus. This thesaurus contains a beautiful bibliography of the Pesach Haggadahs from the beginning of printing until 1960. The final number in his bibliography listing is 4715. Of course ever since 1960 there has been many more printed. Every year people print new ones; even people who had never written on the Haggadah have had a Haggadah published under their name, based on culling their other writings and collecting material on the Haggadah. When one goes to the seforim store before Pesach it has become the custom to buy at least one new Haggadah; of course one finds themselves overwhelmed not knowing which to pick!
A year later I wrote a post listing an Initial Bibliography of Important Haggadah Literature that is out there.  In that post I discussed various works on the Seder night (regular and academic).
I personally collected and have learned through numerous works of all kinds on the seder night for many years. I am always on the lookout for some fresh new look on the seder night. A few years ago, I came across some articles by Professor Henshke in various publications such as HaMaayan and more academic journals and was hooked. I also heard him speak a few times. A few years ago when I was enrolled in the Talmud Department in Bar Ilan University, I started to go to a class of his once a week; each week, I was simply blown away. Around Pesach time the focus of the class was based on some of his work on the Seder night.
What is the strength and uniqueness of this work?
Professor Henshke shows a command of two worlds which some feel cannot go together, the Yeshivah and Academic worlds. He learned by various greats of the past including R’ Yisroel Gustman, R’ Binyamin Ze’ev Benedict, and R’ Shlomoh Fisher, has served as a maggid Shiur and is extremely familiar with the Yeshivisheh Torah in all areas, including Kodoshim and Taharos. His works shows an incredible command of the relevant sources, from Chazal and onwards, Geonim, Rishonim and Achronim. At the same time he shows the same impressive breadth in academic literature as well as deep understanding and utilization of the various methodologies. He is careful to examine all the material from scratch, including the manuscripts, to the finest details. This allows him to look at the sugyah with a fresh look. Additionally, he is also a great “Mechadish” and has originated many new ideas on various issues. Professor Henshke is an outstanding example of the tremendous benefit in combining both worlds (a topic for a different time). All this is done with Yiras Shamyim and with proper respect of whoever he is dealing with, even when he is arguing with them.
In general, Professor Henshke’s lectures and written material focus on the Peshat. Basing himself upon a meticulous reading of the texts, he then approaches Chazal (Midrashi halacha and Mishna-Tosefta) by putting each halachah into its proper literary perspective (each corpus reflects the Halachos as learned in a different Bais Midrash; that of R’ Yishmael and that of R’ Akiva). This approach, coupled with his phenomenal scope allows him to connect seemingly non-related halachos, weaving an intricate tapestry worthy of both Rosh Yeshiva and scholastic.

Here are Professor Henshke’s own words (from the introduction to this work) explaining what it is he is trying to bring to the table (I have abridged the text and footnotes):

כלום לא נכתב די על ליל הסדר?[1] השאלה… אכן מתבקשת – אף על פי שחיבור זה אינו פירוש להגדה (שאין מספר לביאוריה),[2] ואף אינו דיון תורני בסוגיות ליל הפסח (שדה שאף הוא כבר נחרש עמוקות).[3] תכליתו של ספר זה כפולה – בירור מצווֹת ליל הסדר היסודיות מבחינת תולדות ההלכה בתקופת התנאים והאמוראים (והוא חלקו הראשון שלחיבור), והבהרת התהווּתה של ההגדה התנאית – מימות התנאים עצמם ועד עיצובו של הרובד התנאי בהגדה של ימי האמוראים והגאונים (חלק שני). אף על פי כן, השאלה שבכותרת במקומה עומדת, לפי שסִפרות המחקר על ליל הסדר, שעניינה בתכליות הללו, אף היא כבר רחבה ומסועפת

    ברם, לא מעט מסִפרות המחקר נכתב מתוך מבט חיצוני לגופו של החומר הנחקר. חוקרי ליל הסדר לרוב לא ראו את תפקידם בניתוח מהלכי הסוגיות התלמודיות (המשמשות מקור ראשון לענייננו) מפנימן, אלא בהצבת נקודת מוצא שמחוץ להלכי המחשבה התלמודית – כמנוף לבירור מחודש של התופעות. כך, לדוגמאות אחדות, נחקרה ההגדה על רקע פוליטי,[4] על-פי תרבות הסימפוזיון ההלניסטי,[5] או כתגובה לפסחא הנוצרית ול’הגדתה’[6] – אך נקודות מוצא אלה, שאין כלל ספק בחיוניותן, ראוי להן להישקל דווקא לאחר בירור תלמודי מדוקדק בכל כלי הניתוח

שמדע התלמוד של ימינו מְספק. ומעין דבריו של רא”ש רוזנטל: “לא יהיה בסופו של דבר שום מבוא אל התלמוד אלא בתלמודיות ממש“.[7] אין לדלג אפוא אל מעבר לגופי המקורות – קודם שהללו נתבררו מתוכם ככל שיד העיון משגת.

    כיצד יש להם למקורות להתברר? על שלושה דברים עומד מחקר התלמוד:[8] (א) בירור שיטתי של נוסח המקורות התלמודיים, על יסוד מכלול עדי הנוסח שבידינו ויחסיהם ההדדיים; (ב) הבהרת לשונם של המקורות, על-פי פשוטם בהקשרם ועל יסוד בדיקתם בשאר היקרויות; (ג) על בסיס שני אלה מתאפשרת העֲמידה החיונית על הרכבם הספרותי של המקורות, הבחנת רובדיהם אלה מאלה ועמידה על יחסיהם ההדדיים. קשיים ותמיהות שמערימות הסוגיות השונות מתיישבים תחילה מתוך בירורים פנימיים אלה, אשר מביאים לעמידה על מהלכי החשיבה התלמודיים ותולדותיהם; ומעֵין וריאציה על התער של אוקהם[9] דומה שמלמדת כי דווקא כאשר אין בכל אלה כדי להושיע, יש מקום לפנות אל מחוץ לסוגיות עצמן

    אימוצה של מתודה זו בסוגיא דילן[10] דומה שמשיב כל הצורך על השאלה שהוצגה…, כפי שמתברר בבדיקת הסִפרות הקיימת

 סקירה מפורטת של ספרות המחקר בפרשת ליל הסדר, כפי שנדפסה עד שנת תשנ”ו, מצויה במבואו של יוסף תבורי לחיבורו ‘פסח דורות’ (תל-אביב 1996). במרכזה של ספרות זו עומדות כמדומה הגדותיהם של ד’ גולדשמידט (תש”ך) ורמ”מ כשר (מהדורה שלישית תשכ”ז), כל אחת בדרכה; אך תיאורן של דרכים אלה, יחד עם הצגת שאר הספרות בענייננו, ימצא הקורא במבואו האמור של תבורי. ואילו גוף ספרו הוא ודאי נקודת מפנה בחקר הלכות ליל הסדר; כי בחיבור זה מונחת תשתית שאין לה תחליף בתחום הנדון, וכל מחקר הבא אחריו נזון הימנו.[11] ברם, נוסף לנתונים הרבים שנתגלו ונצטברו מיום הופעת ספרו של תבורי (שבנוי בעיקרו על דיסרטציה משנת תשל”ח) – ויָתר עליהם: דרכי חשיבה וניתוח שנתחדדו מאז – הרי כבר הודיע המחבר עצמו כי “עיקר החידוש שלי הוא בתיאור תולדות הלכות ליל הסדר בתקופה הבתר אמוראית” (עמ’ 27; ההדגשה שלי). ואילו חיבורִי מוקדש בעיקרו לסִפרות התנאים והאמוראים.[12]

    מתוך כלל הסִפרות שיצאה לאור לאחר ספרו של תבורי, אזכיר כאן שני חיבורים שנזקקתי להם רבות. בשנת תשנ”ח יצאה לאור ‘הגדת חז”ל’ מאת שמואל וזאב ספראי. זהו חיבור רב ערך שריכז נתונים הרבה, והוא כתוב בידי אב ובנו, שני היסטוריונים מומחים; אלא שהיסטוריה היא אכן מגמתם, ולא בירורי הסוגיות התלמודיות לשמן… ולא עוד אלא שספר זה מוקדש להגדה דווקא, ומצוות ליל הסדר נידונות בו רק אגבה. מכל מקום, הכרת תודה יש בי אף לחיבור זה, שאי אפשר לחוקר ליל הסדר שלא להיזקק לו

    משנה ותוספתא פסחים הן נושא חיבורו של שמא יהודה פרידמן, ‘תוספתא עתיקתא’ (רמת-גן תשס”ג), שבכללו סעיפים העוסקים בענייננו. כדרכו, אין דבר גדול או קטן במהלך הדברים שפרידמן אינו יורד לסוף עניינו ומבררו כשׂמלה. ברם, נקודת המוצא של חיבור זה היא השיטה הכללית המוצעת בו, בדבר קדמותן של הלכות התוספתא להלכות המשנה המקבילות… מכל מקום, כל אימת שחיבורו של פרידמן נגע בענייננו, מיצוי מידותיו היה מאלף

He has written over 100 articles and two books (here and here) developing and elaborating on his methods.

The current volume is certainly not a light read but it will help one understand numerous sugyos of the seder night in new and in deeper levels than before. It is sure to become the new definitive work on the seder night putting it in a original perspective.

If one is interested in reading some articles by Professor Henshke that were later updated and incorporated into this work, feel free to email me at Eliezerbrodt@gmail.com
Here are the Table of Contents of this special work.
Simply looking at it gives one sense of some of the issues he deals with.

The book can be purchased via Magnes Press or through me at Eliezerbrodt@gmail.com

Copies of this work will be arriving at Biegeleisen shortly.

 

[1] הכינוי ‘ליל הסדר’ לליל ט”ו בניסן איננו מחידושי הלשון העברית החדשה, כפי שסבר י’ כנעני, אוצר הלשון העברית,ערך ‘סדר’ (עמ’ 3947), שהרי הוא מתועד כבר אצל מהרי”ל, במפנה המאות י”ד-ט”ו למניינם; ראה מהרי”ל, סדר ההגדה, ח, עמ’ צב. אך ספק אם יש למצאו קודם לכן, והשווה המילון החדש של א’ אבן שושן, ערך ‘ליל’ (עמ’ 812), המייחס את הביטוי לימי הביניים, בלא ציון מקור. הרבה קודם לכן מוצאים אנו את ה’סדר’ גרידא (ראה לדוגמה המקורות שהביא א’ בן יהודה במילונו, ערך ‘סדר’, עמ’ 3971), וכן את ‘סדר ליל פסח’ (ראה למשל ראבי”ה, סי’ תקכד, עמ’ 152). כלום הלעז sederabend הוא פרי תרגום של ‘ליל הסדר’ – או שמא איפכא? בשל המקור המאוחר יחסית של הביטוי ‘ליל הסדר’, נקטנו בכותרת החיבור את הלשון ‘ליל הפסח’. ועל “ליל הפסח” ראה להלן.
[2] ראה: יודלוב, אוצר, שם נרשמו “קרוב לחמש מאות פירושים… ממזרח וממערב, מכל קצות הקשת המחשבתית רבת הגונים והענפים שבעולם האמונה והמחשבה היהודית לדורותיה”, כדברי י”מ תא-שמע בהקדמתו שם, עמ’ ח, והואיל והרישום מגיע שם לשנת תש”ך, הרי כיום יש להוסיף כמובן לא מעט; אך מעֵבר לכך, רשימה זו אינה כוללת אלא את דפוסי ההגדות המלוּות בפירושים, ואילו לביאורי ההגדה שמצאו מקומם בשאר כל הספרות התורנית דומה שאין מספר
[3] ראה, לדוגמה בעלמא, מפתח הספרים שבסוף אוצר מפרשי התלמוד – פסחים, ד: ערבי פסחים, ירושלם תשנ”ד, עמ’ תתסט-תתצח.
[4] ראה למשל פינקלשטיין, א-ב..
[5] ראה למשל מאמרו רב ההשפעה של שטיין, סימפוזיון; על הבעייתיות שבכיווּן זה ראה להלן..
[6] ראה למשל דאובה שצוין להלן…, ובעקבותיו יובל, שני גוים, עמ’ 92; על כך שההנחה שביסוד דברי דאובה אינה מתקיימת, ראה להלן שם בהמשך. רעיונותיו המעניינים של יובל, המתאר את ההגדה כתגובה לנצרות, בעייתיים מבחינת בירור המקורות; ראה על כך עוד, לדוגמה, להלן… בתחום היחס לנצרות מצוי גם חיבורו של ליאונרד, אך הלה מבקש לברר את העניינים גם מתוכם. אלא שאף כאן ניכרת היטב בעייתיות ברקע התלמודי; וראה, לדוגמה, להלן…
[7] רוזנטל, המורה, עמ’ טו
[8] השווה: רוזנטל שם; ספרִי שמחת הרגל, עמ’ 2-1
[9] כבר העירו על ניסוחו של הרמב”ם, בקהיר של המאה הי”ב, לעקרונו של ויליאם איש אוקהם, באנגליה של המאה הי”ד: “אם, למשל, יש ביכולתנו להניח מתכונת אשר על-פיה תהיינה אפשריות התנועות… על-פי שלושה גלגלים, ומתכונת אחרת אשר על-פיה יתאפשר אותו דבר עצמו על-פי ארבעה גלגלים, ראוי לנו לסמוך על המתכונת אשר מספר התנועות בה קטן יותר” (מורה הנבוכים ב, יא, מהד’ שורץ עמ’ 290). ואכמ”ל במקורותיו.
[10] החיבור הנוכחי איננו הראשון שבו מבקש אני לבחון ולהדגים מתודה זו; שני קודמיו (משנה ראשונה; שמחת הרגל) נתמקדו בתורת התנאים..
[11] לחיבורו זה הוסיף תבורי מחקרים נוספים בענייני ליל הסדר, ואלה שנזכרו בחיבורנו רשומים ברשימת ספרות המחקר שבסופו; וראה עוד סיכומו “The Passover Haggadah”, בתוך: S. Safrai et al. (eds.), The Literature of the Sages, II, Assen 2006, pp. 327-338
[12] דיונים בספרות הגאונים והראשונים נערכו כאן כשיש בהם כדי להבהיר את הכיווּנים שהועלו באשר להלכה החז”לית.