The Alleged Blindness of R. Jacob Joshua Falk During the Emden-Eibeschuetz Controversy
The Alleged Blindness of R. Jacob Joshua Falk During the Emden- Eibeschuetz Controversy by Shnayer Z. Leiman
R. Jacob Emden’s animosity toward R. Jonathan Eibeschuetz throughout the Emden-Eibeschuetz controversy could easily be explained away on grounds that are not necessarily bound up with an accusation of heresy. Emden, who proudly depicted himself as “a zealot the son of a zealot,” would hardly pass for Mister Nice Guy. In his autobiography, and certainly in his polemical works, Emden often emerges as a misanthropic, tempestuous, cantankerous, chronically-ill, and incessantly whining social misfit and rabbinic genius who did not suffer either fools or rabbinic scholars gladly. Indeed, he hardly had a kind word to say about most of the rabbis who succeeded his father, R. Zvi Ashkenazi, as Chief Rabbi of Altona, Hamburg, and Wandsbeck, and served during his (Emden’s) lifetime. Emden, whose father and grandfather had served as Chief Rabbis of Altona, Hamburg, and Wandsbeck surely felt that he should have been appointed to succeed them in the rabbinate. That he (Emden) had to live in Altona for some 15 years (1750-1764) as a lay Jew in the shadow of Chief Rabbi Jonathan Eibeschuetz was simply more than he could bear. And the two rabbis lived virtually around the corner from each other in Altona, then a bedroom community for some 200 Jewish families living outside of Hamburg. Not surprisingly, a long list of historians and apologists would suggest that it was jealousy more than heresy that motivated and drove Emden’s animosity toward Eibeschuetz.[1]
It is far more difficult to explain away R. Jacob Joshua Falk’s animosity toward R. Jonathan Eibeschuetz on grounds other than the accusation of heresy. It is called “the Emden-Eibeschuetz” controversy, and rightly so, for those two rabbis initiated the controversy in 1751, would continue the struggle against each other through 1764 (when Eibeschuetz died), and Emden would continue to denigrate Eibeschuetz’ memory for as long as he lived, i.e., until 1776. But during the key early years of the controversy, from 1751 until 1756, the campaign against Eibeschuetz was directed primarily by R. Jacob Joshua Falk, then serving as Chief Rabbi of Frankfurt am Main, and who had formerly served with distinction as Chief Rabbi of certainly ,גדול הדור Lvov, Berlin, and Metz. He was arguably the and virtually everyone agreed that no other rabbi in the ,זקן הדור the mid-18th century was in a better position to resolve the controversy. He was even-handed, had no axe to grind, and was unrelated to either the first) פני יהושע Emden or Eibeschuetz. Author of the classic work volume appeared in print in Amsterdam, 1739), no one could question either his learning or integrity. In a battle of titans – now Rabbis Falk and Eibeschuetz – that escalated over a five year period, Falk ultimately called for Eibeschuetz to be defrocked. He placed Eibeschuetz under the ban, specifically ruling that he could no longer function as a rabbi, teacher, or preacher either in Altona or anywhere else, until such time that he would appear before a Jewish court of law and his case would be adjudicated . That, of course, never happened. As indicated, defenders of Eibeschuetz could not easily account for Falk’s seemingly acrimonious stance in the Emden- Eibeschuetz controversy.[2]
A possible early mention of Falk’s suffering from blindness appears in an undated letter by R. Nathan Nota Eibeschuetz (circa 1732-1789), son of R. Jonathan Eibeschuetz. The letter was addressed to a rabbinic colleague, an ardent supporter of R. Jonathan Eibeschuetz, and was published surreptitiously by Emden in 1755, during Falk’s lifetime.[3] In it, Nathan Nota Eibeschuetz notes in a postscript that reports have just reached him from a variety of informants that Falk’s [second] wife had died suddenly in Mannheim. Her sudden death had an immediate traumatic effect on Falk, who was overcome with mental confusion and physical pain. Specifically, Eibeschuetz states that Falk “now walks lonely and desolate, depleted of strength, and is no longer able to see.”[4] Although the letter is undated, we know precisely that Falk’s [second] wife died on Monday, October 18, 1751(=
29 Tishre 5512).[5] The letter could only have been written shortly after the event it describes.
It is difficult to assess how much credibility is to be given to such a report. The author of the letter was not an eyewitness to the event he describes. Moreover, he personally viewed Falk as the “enemy,” and could only take delight in describing his mental and physical breakdown.[6] In any event, we know that some four months later Falk obviously recovered, for he remarried on Shushan Purim in 1752,[7] and clearly regained his eyesight (as we will prove below), even if he had lost it temporarily. Doubtless, this report, published in 1755, played a significant role in influencing the later accounts that had much to say about Falk’s blindness during the Emden- Eibeschuetz controversy.
In the 19th century, reports appeared in print that Falk suffered from blindness toward the end of his life. Even if we assume that these reports are accurate accounts of Falk’s state of health in 1756, they speak only of blindness during the last months, weeks, or days of his life.[8] By the 20th century, apologists broadened the period of Falk’s blindness to the entire span of his involvement in the Emden- Eibeschuetz controversy, from 1751 to 1756.[9] Thus, it was claimed that Falk never saw any of the amulets ascribed to Eibeschuetz and never read any of the polemical works published by the Emden forces between 1751 and 1756. He heard only oral reports, and based his rulings upon the misinformation that he was fed. It follows, then, that Falk’s stance in the Emden-Eibeschuetz controversy cannot be used as evidence against the integrity of Eibeschuetz. In the 21st century, more radical apologists would claim that all the letters and broadsides allegedly signed and published by Falk were in fact forged by the anti-Eibeschuetz forces.[10]
Here, we shall attempt to set the record straight. It would seem from a variety of sources that Falk could see perfectly well during the key years of the Emden-Eibeschuetz controversy. He had no problem reading texts as late as August of 1755, when – some 5 months before he died – he published the very last text he would contribute to the literature of the Emden-Eibeschuetz controversy. What follows is a summary list of some key sources, and their dates.
R. Hayyim) חיד”א Wednesday, August 7, 1754 (=19 Av, 5514). The .1 Yosef David Azulai, 1724-1806) met with Falk in Worms. An impostor was s fundraising efforts on behalf of the’חיד”א bankrupting the Jewish community of Hebron. The impostor came with forged papers, claiming he was the true emissary of Hebron. He would reach each town arrived, collect the funds, and חיד”א and city in Europe before the s written’חיד”א s rescue by comparing’חיד”א abscond. Falk came to the credentials against his own collection of rabbinic signatures, and as ”.וירא כי החתימות דידי ודידיה היו לאחדים“ ,diary חיד”א recorded in Falk saw that the signatures on both sets of documents were exactly to be the only authorized emissary from חיד”א the same, and declared Hebron.[11] See here: 2. Monday, April 14, 1755 (=3 Iyar 5515). Falk wrote a letter on behalf of Simon von Geldern (1720-1788), then an itinerant yeshiva student. Falk writes:
“The signature of the Chief Rabbi of Pressburg [on the letter you showed me] is well known to me, and I recognize it at sight. Since he praises you in his letter… I too agree to write a letter on your behalf.”[12] See here:
3. Monday, August 18,1755 (11 Elul, 5515). Falk wrote his final letter of approbation for authors of rabbinic works. He wrote 42 altogether. ספר המצות עם פירוש מרגניתא ’to R. Aryeh Leib Horowitz הסכמה See his Frankfurt, 1756). Falk writes that a copy of R. Aryeh) טבא .(.was placed before his eyes (italics mine, s.z.l מרגניתא טבא Leib’s He examined it two or three times and saw that the comments were wise and true, and agreed to write a letter of approval.[13] See here. 4. Friday, August 29, 1755 (= 22 Elul 5515). In a broadside -Falk published his final salvo in the Emden , חרבות צורים entitled Eibeschuetz controversy.[14] Some 8 weeks earlier, Eibeschuetz had Altona, 1755), his first published book, and the) לוחת עדות published only one which was devoted to a vigorous denial of the charges made against him that he was a closet Sabbatean. In the book, he addressed the amulets that had been ascribed to him, and called to the stand an impressive list of witnesses for the defense, including many of the leading rabbis in Lithuania, Poland, Bohemia, Moravia, Germany, Italy, Turkey and elsewhere, all of whom attested to his innocence of the was the first חרבות צורים charges levelled against him. Falk’s .and a devastating one at that ,לוחת עדות published book review of
For our purposes, what is significant is that Falk indicates that he read the book upon publication, and indeed cites chapter and verse with precision. He even notes that he compared the printed version of a personal letter that Eibeschuetz had addressed to (לוחת עדות in) him in 1754, to the original copy still in his possession, and noticed subtle, if only minor, differences. Apparently, Falk could see quite well, as late as August 29, 1755, when the broadside was penned by him.[15] He died some 5 months later on January 16, 1756 (= 14 Shevat
5516). See here.
In sum, R. Jacob Joshua Falk was not blind during the key years that he participated in the Emden-Eibeschuetz controversy. He may well have suffered from blindness toward the end of his life. If so, this is likely to have occurred sometime after he wrote his final salvo in the Emden-Eibeschuetz controversy on August 29, 1755.[16]
Notes
[1] For a scathing rabbinic critique of Emden’s character, and for samples of the negative impact of his character on his writings, see .n. 5-6, pp ,דגלנו in 1922 2 ”לכותבי הסתוריא“ ,R. Meir Dan Plotzki 108-110, and n. 10-11, pp. 191-194; and 3(1923), n. 12, pp. 230-233. For a typical historian and apologist who explains away Emden’s חכמי ,animosity as being grounded largely in jealousy, see E. Duckesz Hamburg, 1908), pp. 55-63. A wide variety of other motivations) אה”ו for Emden’s animosity have been suggested, including economic factors (see, e.g., M.J. Cohen,Jacob Emden: A Man of Controversy ,Philadelphia, 1937); halakhic issues (see, e.g., Rabbi R. , סיבת התנגדותו של רבינו יעקב מעמדין לרבינו יהונתן אייבשיץ ,Margulies Tel-Aviv, 1941); and kabbalistic speculation (see, e.g., Rabbi Y.Y. ,first published in Lemberg, 1858] Jerusalem] נציב מצותיך ,Safrin ,קונטרוס שמרו משפט תנינא ,p. 117, and Rabbi A.Y. Schlesinger ,1983 Jerusalem, 1914, p. 72a). [2] On Falk’s role in the Emden-Eibeschuetz controversy, see S.Z. Leiman, “When a Rabbi is Accused of Heresy: The Stance of Rabbi Jacob Joshua Falk in the Emden-Eibeschuetz Controversy,” in D. Frank and M. Goldish, eds., Rabbinic Culture and Its Critics (Detroit, 2008), pp. 435-456. Altona, 1755), pp. 79a-80a (the pagination) ויקם עדות ביעקב ,Emden [3] mistakenly reads: pp. 59a-60a). אף גם הוא כעת הולך ערירי וכוחו סר :Ibid., p. 80. The Hebrew reads [4] .ואור עינו אין אתו
.is less than certain אור עינו אין אתו The plain sense of the phrase Although some are inclined to render it figuratively, e.g, “his eyes lost their sparkle,” in rabbinic literature it is often rendered literally and refers to loss of sight.
,(my eyes lit up) ארו עיני For the figurative sense, see 1 Sam 14:29 ,(my eyes have lost their luster) ואור עיני גם הם אין אתי Psalm 38:17 and cf. M. Yoma 8:6. The figurative sense, then, refers clearly to the restoration or loss of physical and mental well-being. For the sense עין ,loss of sight,” see, e.g., R. Yosef b. Eliyahu Hazzan“ ,Altona) חלי כתם ,Smyrna, 1675), introduction; R. Jacob Emden) יוסף ,(Altona, 1826) אהל יששכר ,p. 22b; R. Yissachar Lichtenstein ,(1775 letter of approbation by R. Michael May of Breslau; R. Abraham Ha- Lvov, 1837), letter of approbation by R. Yaakov) אברהם זכרון ,Levi פארי חכמי ,Orenstein; and R. Yekutiel Yehudah Greenwald (Sighet, 1910), p. 38, entry 13. In these (and in other) מדינתינו is often used אור עינו אין אתו rabbinic passages, the phrase סגי נהור. and ,עיוור, סומא interchangeably with the terms Bilgoraj, 1936), p. 19. Her tombstone) עטרת יהושע ,See D.A.L. Zinz [[5 – moved from the old to the new Jewish cemetery – is preserved to this very day in Mannheim’s New Jewish Cemetery. [6] Nathan Nota Eibeschuetz adds in the postscript that “starting at her funeral, Falk proclaimed that his punishment was due to his opposition to my [i.e., Nathan Nota Eibeschuetz’] Master, Teacher, and Rabbi, my father the Gaon [Jonathan Eibeschuetz]. [7] Zinz, loc. cit. [8] See G. Klemperer, “Rabbi Jonathan Eibenschütz,” in Pascheles’ Sippurim 4(1856), pp. 284-5 [also published as a monograph entitled Rabbi Jonathan Eibenschütz (Prague, 1858), pp. 76-77]. Cf. Y. ,Lyck) אנשי שם in his ”תולדות רבי יהונתן אייבענשיטץ“ ,Gastfreund 1879), p.17, note. None of these sources provide any detail about a progression from partial to total blindness; they simply assume that at some point toward the end of his life Falk suffered from total blindness. .Piotrkow, 1931), p) קונטרס דרך חיים ,See, e.g., H.Y.N. Silberberg [9] 81. יערות דבש השלם in ”הקדמת המו”ל“ ,See, e.g., Y.Y. Vidovsky [10] Jerusalem, 2000), vol.1, p. 45, n. 95, whose claims are based) המנוקד upon an egregious misreading of the evidence he presents. Falk’s יחסה של ההיסטוריוגרפיה“ apologists are not discussed in Y. Barnai’s ,(Jerusalem, 2000) שבתאות: היבטים חברתיים in his ”האורטודוקסית לשבתאות pp.120-141. .Jerusalem, 1934), p. 23) מעגל טוב השלם ,H.Y.D. Azulai [11] .Amsterdam, 1760), p. 4b) כתבי קודש ומליצות ,Simon von Geldern [12] ,Frankfurt) ספר המצות עם פירוש מרגניתא טבא ,A.L. Horowitz [13] :printed immediately following the title page (courtesy הסכמה ,(1756 of Falk’s son on the same הסכמה HebrewBooks.org). See, however, the was dictated by הסכמה page, which raises the possibility that Falk’s him and recorded by his son. Even so, I don’t think this changes the הסכמה. basic facts recorded in Falk’s seems to have survived the חרבות צורים Only one copy of [[14 vicissitudes of time. It is preserved in a private collection, and the owner, who prefers to remain anonymous, has graciously allowed me to publish the full text anew. I plan to do so in the near future. Here I post a scan only of the opening lines and paragraph, which are relevant to the discussion at hand. לוחת It is possible to claim that Falk was already blind when [15] was published on June 27, 1755. When a copy reached Falk in עדות Frankfurt, it was read to him by an amanuensis, who also recorded Falk’s response as it was dictated to him. The response was then ,Such a claim .חרבות צורים published in the broadside entitled however, is meaningless in terms of apologetics, whose ultimate goal is to dismiss Falk’s testimony as uninformed and meaningless. By June 1755, Falk’s role in the Emden-Eibeschuetz controversy was basically over. It’s everything he said, wrote, and did before June 1755 –when he certainly could see and read – that established his unique and unequivocal stance in the controversy. Moreover, specifically with every criticism of Eibeschuetz by Falk is ,חרבות צורים regard to Every .לוחת עדות referenced with precision to the appropriate page in criticism is clever, incisive, and right on target – as one would expect from a tried and tested Sabbatean-buster like Falk. None of the criticisms could be dismissed as the uninformed and meaningless testimony of a blind man who could not read and understand the text לוחת עדות. of 16]] Anecdotal evidence (that can neither be authenticated nor dated with precision) preserves a tradition that Falk wore reading glasses in Lvov. If true, it surely suggests that he was able to see at that early stage in his life (and needed glasses only for reading). Indeed, to the best of my knowledge, no one has ever claimed otherwise. See Zinz, op. cit., pp. 95-6. Elsewhere in the same volume (on p. 25), Zinz writes specifically – without adducing any evidence – that Falk “was blind for several months prior to his death.” This is perfectly consistent with our conclusion
The Gaon’s Impact on the Interpretation of both Primary Sugyot in Zemanim
The Gaon’s Impact on the Interpretation of both Primary Sugyot in Zemanim By William Gewirtz
Unquestionably, almost all ḥiddushim in the understanding of the vast literature on zemanim have halakhic implications. My intent is not to influence what has become minhag Yisroel; my focus is on establishing more precise halakhic definitions and theoretical innovations in sugyot that are central to the study of zemanim. Competent poskim can implement any changes in halakhic practice, which they determine that these innovations support.[1]
Two areas dominate the study of zemanim:
How to determine precise delimiters for the day of the week, which concludes at the end of the period of bein ha-shemashot.[2] How to calculate the hours of the daytime period, which according to all opinions begins at alot hashaḥar.
Interestingly, in both Hebrew and English, the words yom and day denote both the daytime period and the day of the week. Our focus is on:
the Gaon’s impact on the interpretation of two key aspects of Shabbat 34a-35b, which examines the transition between days of the week, and a key aspect of the Gaon’s clarification of Pesaḥim 94a focused on the daytime period.
The approach to the above sugyot were radically changed by the Gaon’s observations.[3] However, only the impact on the former sugyah in Pesaḥim is usually recognized.
As I strongly indicated in a paper on errors inhalakhic reasoning, I do not believe that attempts to deal with the critique of Rabbeinu Tam’s position by the Gaon have ever been fully effective. In this paper, however, the focus is not on the extensive halakhic literature written primarily in the period of the aḥaronim, but on the text of the gemara itself and its interpretation by rishonim. The conclusions reached are very different.[4]
The first two sections address areas in the gemara beginning on Shabbat 34a where a significant modification to an earlier reading of the gemara, often associated with rishonim aligned with Rabbeinu Tam, is strongly preferred, but only when assuming a slight modification to the presumed opinion of the geonim / Gaon.[5] In a similar vein we suggest a modification to how the bein hashemashot interval is to be used, something I believe to be independent of the positions of Rabbeinu Tam and the Gaon.
The third section addresses the Gaon’s innovative reading of the gemara in Pesaḥim 94a, a reading that is strongly supported by both elementary logic and astronomy. Included in the Gaon’s reading is a concept that was never made explicit in rabbinic literature prior to the Gaon, to the best of my knowledge. As will become clear, that observation forms the basis for the Gaon’s challenge to the opinion of Rabbeinu Tam.
My observations are not intended to be judged as controversial, although concluding a sugyah may not have been correctly understood (or at the very least properly explained) until the 18th century might be jarring. It is beyond my focus or competence to deal with the implications of that observation; observations addressing that point would be welcomed.
Section 1: The endpoints of the period of bein ha-shemashot
The dispute between the geonim / Gaon and Rabbeinu Tam revolves around the placement of the interval ofbein ha- shemashot, within the interval between sunset and tzait (kol) ha-kokhavim, whose length is (almost always) assumed to be the time needed to walk 4 milin.[6] The length of the bein ha- shemashot period is universally assumed to be the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil. It is normally assumed that the opinion of the geonim / Gaon places the bein ha- shemashot period at the start of that interval, while Rabbeinu Tam places it at its end.
Those two alternatives represent opposite extremes. Two adjustments seem reasonable.
First, separate the dispute between the geonim / Gaon and Rabbeinu Tam into two distinct components: The first concerns the beginning and the second the end of the bein ha-shemashot period, subject to a constraint that the length of the bein ha- shemashot interval must equal the time to walk ¾ of a mil. Second, assume that there are multiple hybrid / intermediate positions, situated between the two generally assumed alternatives.[7]
This allows for
an interpretation of the gemara in Shabbat similar (or according to some identical) to the overwhelmingly compelling position of the geonim / Gaon relative to the end of the bein ha-shemashot period, while defining the beginning of the bein ha-shemashot period using the textual approaches of many rishonim, albeit employing a significantly earlier point in time, much closer to sunset.
While I have not seen this conceptualization explicitly formulated[8] in the classic halakhic literature, practice and several pragmatic opinions are supportive of this approach. More importantly, the challenges raised to the opinions of both Rabbeinu Tam and theGaon are, without exception, directed at the late ending of the Shabbat according to the opinion of Rabbeinu Tam and at the early beginning of the Shabbat according to the opinion of the Gaon.[9] This approach sidesteps the challenges to both opinions. Additionally, this approach absolutely disputes the view that
Anyone who rejects the start of Shabbat precisely at or even a few minutes after sunset must embrace the approach of Rabbeinu Tam, an assumption that does not follow logically, though it is occasionally found in the halakhic literature.[10]
There are numerous arguments in support for this position. We cite several of the strongest:
1. The term mi-she-tishkeh ha-ḥamah: Ramban in Torat Ha- Adam[11] and the many ḥakhemai sforad who adopted his position stress that the meaning of the termmi-she- tishkehha-ḥamah unquestionably implies not sunset but a point after A simpler phrase shikiat ha–ḥamah would denote precisely sunset. Of course, mi-she-tishkehha- ḥamah does not imply any specific time but only that the time follows sunset by some number of minutes. The only change required is to assume that mi-she-tishkeh ha- ḥamah is referring to a point much closer to sunset, something that appears more reasonable than a point over 50 minutes later according to the (theoretical) view of Rabbeinu Tam. In other respects, the gemara is read like the numerous rishonim who assumed that mi-she-tishkeh ha-ḥamah cannot refer to sunset proper. 2. Tosefet Shabbat:[12] Ramban argues that tosefet Shabbat could only begin after sunset during an interval that is still a part of the daytime period. Ramban does not consider tosefet Shabbat prior to sunset as meaningful, equating it to the value of illumination from a candle during daylight. 3. The sugyah in Shabbat applies year-round, not only during a specific season or seasons: The gemara in Pesaḥim 94a, which equates the time needed to walk 40 milin with the daytime period, must assume an average day around either the spring or the fall equinox. In the Middle East, during a winter day of approximately 10 hours or a summer day of approximately 14 hours, the distance covered in one day would vary considerably. However, unlike the gemara in Pesaḥim 94a that can only apply to a 12-hour daytime period, thegemara in Shabbat, defines the end of Shabbat using terms like ḥashekhah, hiḥsif ha-elyon ve-hishveh le-taḥton and the appearance of three stars, all of which apply (nearly) uniformly throughout the year.[13]
At both the fall and spring equinox, the sun appears in the same place over the equator and you might expect Shabbat to begin and end at the identical time. Certainly, regardless of how one measures darkness, it is equivalently dark any number of minutes after sunset at those two times. However, in Jerusalem and other parts of the Middle East, unrelated to the degree of darkness, stars first appear a number of minutes later (after sunset) in the fall than they do in the spring.[14]Advantaged by the early appearance of Sirius and Canopus in the spring but not the fall, the Gaon restricts the focus of the gemara to the spring only.
Note that:
1. All rishonim who choose to comment on the sugyah in Pesaḥim 94a state that the day in question occurs only around the spring (or fall) equinox. 2. Not a single rishon makes an analogous comment, restricting the gemara beginning on Shabbat 34b to any specific time of year.
4. Shmuel’s unchallenged statement:[15]With Prof. Levi’s table (provided in the appendix) as background, examine Shmuel’s unchallenged statement on Shabbat 35a, according to the position of the geonim / Gaon.[16] After discussing the appearance of the horizon and the length of the bein ha-shemashot period, the gemara states the opinion of R. Yehudah in the name of Shmuel who asserts: “one star – daytime, two stars – bein ha- shemashot, and three stars – night.”[17] This is followed by the opinion of Yosi (bar Adin) asserting that the stars in question are neither stars that appear in the day (i. e., large stars[18] or planets) nor small stars that only appear well after the time of tzait ha- kokhavim, but medium stars. How might Shmuel’s statement be reconciled with the previous discussion in the gemara?
First, exclude the implausible suggestion that R. Yosi bar Adin’s assertion that Shmuel’s statement is referring to medium stars applies only to the third part (or second and third parts) of the text. Under this interpretation, the first part of Shmuel’s statement concerning one star, includes not only medium stars but also large stars or planets that are on occasion visible before sunset. Were that the case, the statement would be informing us that the appearance of a planet before sunset does not indicate that thebein ha-shemashot period has begun. In addition to being forced to argue that the different parts of Shmuel’s statement refer to different types of stars, such an assertion would hardly be necessary; the gemara gives no hint that the bein ha- shemashot period begins before sunset.[19] Second, because R. Yosef begins bein ha-shemashot at the time walk 1/12th of a mil later than R. Yehudah, some[20] align Shmuel’s statement and even pasken like R. Yosef, assuming that R. Yehudah start tobein ha-shemashot precisely at sunset, cannot be reconciled with Shmuel’s statement. Prof. Levi’s chart challenges that approach, since a delay of at most 2 minutes[21] (after sunset) provides no benefit; the first medium star cannot be seen until at least 6 minutes after sunset. Third, there are other (implausible) solutions that align Shmuel with Rabi Yosi only, some going so far as identifying the amora Yosi (bar Adin) as the tanna Rabi Yosi. To follow a sugyah focused on Rabi Yehudah, with an uncontested statement that accords only with Rabi Yosi is dubious, at best. Furthermore, Shmuel’s statement, which refers to the non-instantaneous, successive appearance of stars, is difficult to align with an opinion that the bein ha-shemashot interval is instantaneous.
The most plausible suggestion, like the view of R. Ḥaim Volozhin below, is that the bein hashemashot begins at least 6 minutes after sunset.[22]
5. Seeing stars so early (even if only in the spring) is practically impossible:
If the start of the period of bein ha-shemashot for the geonim / Gaon is precisely sunset, there has been considerable effort[23] to align the appearance of three stars within the time it takes to walk ¾ of a mil after sunset. The only solution provided is to assume that the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil applies only around the spring equinox[24] [25] and, even then, to make yet further assumptions to arrive at so short an interval. Particularly if the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil is 13.5 minutes and even if it is a bit under 17 minutes, three stars can rarely be seen so soon after sunset and then
only with great difficulty, by experts, perhaps aided by telescopes, and in a pristine environment absent urban sources of light, like the Judean desert.
Under no circumstances, is 13.5 minutes possible, and 16.85 minutes is almost equally unreasonable.[26]
6. Multiple opinions that begin bein ha-shemashot slightly after sunset: 4 to 5 minutes: The minimum time reported as the custom of Jerusalem[27] as well as the opinion of R. Shneur Zalman of Liadi,[28] the point when the sun is no longer visible even from the highest elevations around Jerusalem.[29] Greater than 6 minutes: The opinion of R. Ḥaim Volozhin based on Shmuel’s statement concerning the appearance of a single star that is visible in the spring to an expert observer at that time.[30] The fact that R. Ḥaim Volozhin disagrees with his Rebbe, strongly suggests that the Gaon’s position that Shabbat starts at precisely sunset was only promulgated le’migdar miltah. 7 to 15 minutes: These views are supported by a variety of sources mentioned previously including R. Kapach’s view of Rambam and R. Posen’s view of the opinion of the geonim. A time around 10 minutes is implied by many Sephardi poskim who mention that until the call of the Moslem mugrab for their fourth prayer service, it is still day thus allowing for the performance of a brit on that day for a baby born in those few minutes after sunset on that same day one week earlier.
When linked to the times given in Prof. Levi’s charts, various alternatives from 6 – 16 minutes after sunset can be plausibly suggested. The next section on how thebein hashemashot interval was intended to be used will shed further light in determining how many minutes after sunset might still be considered daytime.
Section 2. Before or after
One aspect of the Gaon’s interpretation of Shabbat 34b, often assumed without further examination, is that bein hashemashot is calculated by adding its length to the beginning of the beginning of bein hashemashot period. That assumption will now be challenged. Though not conclusive as to how the sugyah should be read, some seforim of near contemporaries[31] of the Gaon assume the opposite approach, subtracting the length of the bein hashemashot interval from the end of Shabbat. The arguments below attempt to demonstrate that this approach may have been standard before the writings of theGaon proliferated years later in the middle of the 19th century.[32] While some may argue that counting forward from sunset versus backward from nightfall is somehow tied to the fundamental makhloket of the geonim / Gaon and Rabbeinu Tam, there does not appear to be any logical, textual or halakhic basis for such an assertion.
The fundamental question is:
What possible value could there be in introducing (especially in an era before clocks) a time-based approximation that is a lower bound, season dependent, rarely applicable, and then only under rare, idealized conditions, at best? In what context would such information be useful?
Thus, I propose that the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil should be interpreted differently than the Gaon proposed and instead we will attempt to demonstrate that
The time to walk ¾ of a mil is to be subtracted from the end of the bein ha-shemashot period as opposed to being added to its beginning. The period is not a minimum (that occurs only around the spring equinox), but a maximum (that occurs around the summer solstice). Thus, the entire sugyah is applicable year-round providing a conservative upper-bound to the length of the bein ha-shemashot
The arguments for both assertions are interrelated and are presented concurrently.[33]
1. The gemara in Shabbat is primarily focused on Friday night and determining when the bein ha-shemashot period begins, as opposed to when it ends. The gemara assumes that the end to the period of bein ha-shemashot is known; each of the disputants are addressing when the period of bein ha-shemashot begins on Friday night. However, if the time needed to walk ¾ of amil were meant to be added to the time of sunset, it would be addressing the end of the bein ha-shemashot period and not the beginning. 2. The three fractions (each expressed as the time needed to walk a part (1/2, 2/3 and ¾) of a mil,) given as alternatives for the length of the period of bein ha- shemashot would then all have identical semantics; each of the three fractions (of the time to walk a mil) is counting back from the assumed point of ḥashekhah, to calculate the beginning of the bein ha-shemashot Given Prof. Levi’s chart, under no circumstances could anyone imagine that the time to walk either ½ of a mil after sunset could be the point at which Shabbat ends. The amoraim, R. Yehudah and R. Yosi, are quantifying the opinion of Rabi Yehudah in contrast to Rabi Nehemiah’s interval, whose period of bein ha-shemashot is only the time needed to walk ½ of a mil. 3. If someone were countering the position of Rabi Yosi, who says the period ofbein ha-shemashot is instantaneous, it is more likely that he would say that it can be “as long as” opposed to “as short ” 4. The significant issue raised previously of never seeing stars as early as at the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil after sunset becomes entirely moot. 5. The period of bein ha-shemashot has some practical consequence providing a potentially useable, conservative upper bound as opposed to a purely theoretical lower bound, which is of limited to no use.
6. As noted earlier, rishonim, who limit the gemara in Pesaḥim to the equinox periods in the fall and spring, make no such assertion with respect to the gemara in Shabbat. One might presume from the lack of commentary that rishonim assumed that the sugyah applies year- round.
Treating the gemara in Shabbat like the gemara in Pesaḥim as referring only to days around the spring (but not the fall) equinox[34] is unnecessary when thinking of the interval as a practical upper bound. All the other descriptions in the gemara, either the appearance of the sky / horizon or the visibility of three stars, apply year-round.
Now examine the three elements in combination:
The various opinions of rishonim on the time to walk ¾ of a mil – 13.5, 16.85 and 18 minutes. Levi’s chart indicating that 3 stars are visible to a careful observer 30[35] minutes after sunset in the summer. The two suggested interpretations that delay the beginning of bein hashemashot to a point slightly after sunset, and view the sugyah as subtracting the length ofbein hashemashot from its end to find its beginning.
We can then assume that Shabbat begins from 12 (subtracting 18 from 30) to 16.5 (subtracting 13.5 from 30) minutes after sunset.[36] However, given
very natural and expected stringency that occurs even today but certainly are to expected in an era before (widely available and accurate) clocks, and the need for tosefet Shabbat practiced times for starting Shabbat between 5 and 10 minutes after sunset ought not be surprising.
Section 3. The Gaon’s approach to Pesaḥim 94a.
The Gaon’s approach to Pesaḥim 94a is premised on an incontrovertible astronomic and logical fact. Assuming that alot hashaḥar approximates the first light of the day, then its evening counterpart, tzait ha-kokhavim, must occur when the sun’s illumination has (next to) no remaining effect.[37] At both of those times, all stars that are in position to be seen are not obscured by illumination from the sun. As a result, the Gaon adds the word kol to differentiate tzait ha- kokhavim, which throughout the Talmudic literature refers to the appearance of 3 stars, from tzait kol ha-kokhavim, the appearance of “all the (potentially visible) stars.” Of course, this point demolishes[38] Rabbeinu Tam’s interpretation that is predicated on the assumption that the meaning of the term tzait ha-kokhavim occurring in both Pesaḥim 94a and Shabbat 35a is the same. Slightly reformulated the Gaon asks how could the time of the appearance of only three stars and the time of alot hashaḥar, when (almost) all the stars are still visible, be separated by intervals of identical length from sunset and sunrise respectively? The pre-dawn counter point to the time after sunset when (only) three stars are first visible cannot be alot hashaḥar when (almost) all stars are still visible.[39]
This ḥiddush is not unexpected, even though the gemara in Pesaḥim is the primary sugyah used throughout halakhic history to provide a source for determining the time ofalot hashaḥar. Despite that halakhic application, the sugyah is focused primarily on geography and astronomy. Thus, harmonious use of the term tzait ha-kokhavim with its use elsewhere in Talmudic literature, which Rabbeinu Tam assumed, need not be presumed.
Since the notion of tzait kol ha-kokhavim is new, it is also not surprising that the Gaon did not specify, to the best of my knowledge, any halakhic uses for the notion of tzait kol ha-kokhavim. Of course, those who followed Rabbeinu Tam’s position had no reason to even consider a point in the evening after tzait ha-kokhavim. However, that changed with the arrival of what we colloquially call the Brisker methodology. Talmudists of that school have produced potential halakhic implications. For example, it is not difficult to differentiate between:
halakhot tied to a specific day or those that are to be performed every day, from those that have no connection to any specific day but are restricted to being performed only during the daytime period.
Presumably, the construction of theBeit HaMikdash is a straightforward example. While there is a daytime requirement,[40] there is no constraint on which day of the week that construction should take place. Another example, which does not comport with the above ḥiluk, has been proposed by R. Moshe Soloveitchik. He suggested the use oftzait kol ha- kokhavim as a delimiter for tosefet Shabbat according to those following the Gaon. While Shabbat ends at the time of tzait ha-kokhavim, R. Soloveitchik proposed that tosefet Shabbat is meaningful only until tzait kol ha-kokhavim.
While these examples[41] are noteworthy, the lomdus of a yartzeit shiur by R. Joseph Soloveitchik was astonishing. Effectively, but not explicitly, R. Soloveitchik disregarded both historic interpretation and practice when he transformed Rabbeinu Tam into an early supporter of the notion of tzait kol ha-kokhavim.[42] As presented in that shiur, though expressed slightly differently, the dispute between the Gaon and Rabbeinu Tam revolves around whether Shabbat ends at tzait ha-kokhavim or tzait kol ha-kokhavim.[43]
In R. Soloveitchik’s formulation, the Gaon defined a critical point along a continuum beginning at the point of sunset, when there is almost complete exposure to the sun’s illumination, and ending at the point of tzait kol ha-kokhavim when no noticeable impact from the sun’s illumination can still be detected. That critical point occurs roughly when 3 medium stars first become visible and marks the transition point between days of the week according to thegeonim / Gaon. Rabbeinu Tam, however, according to R. Soloveitchik’s formulation, defined the transition between days of the week at the point when the sun’s impact has ended entirely, a point corresponding to the end of the continuum, at tzait kol ha- kokhavim.[44]
A possible approach that R. Soloveitchik did not employ is that the Gaon and Rabbeinu Tam decided differently based on two conflicting sugyot in Shabbat and Pesaḥim, respectively. Of course, that would be at variance with Rabbeinu Tam’s normal methodology for resolving conflicting sugyot. Rabbeinu Tam tends to distinguish between sugyot, something he does explicitly with respect to thesesugyot , as opposed to declaring sugyot in conflict and deciding between them. The principal motivation for even raising such a possibility is R. Soloveitchik’s complete avoidance of any mention of the challenges to Rabbeinu Tam’s position from thesugyah in Shabbat. This leads me to wonder if in R. Soloveitchik’s ahistorical reformulation of Rabbeinu Tam, and for reasons entirely unstated, R. Soloveitchik gave the sugyah in Pesaḥim prominence and preference over the sugyah in Shabbat according to Rabbeinu Tam.
Conclusions:
It is not at all usual to treat a ruling of theGaon as le’migdar miltah. However, three things increase my confidence that I am correct in this instance.
1. The reality as described in the epistle of theBa’al ha’Tanya referenced earlier, who lived at the same time and in the same general area, clearly describes people working beyond 30 minutes after sunset, something that the Gaon would be motivated to prevent as resolutely as possible. 2. The opinion of R. Ḥaim Volozhin, in open disagreement with the Gaon’s stated position, demands a reconciliation of views. 3. The textual arguments made by rishonim, the halakhic writings and positions of noteda ḥaronim, and the various arguments that I have formulated appear convincing.
What should be noted is the Gaon’s interesting ability to impact not just pesak, but the way we (perhaps even unconsciously) approach the study of sugyot.
Appendix
Prof. Levi’s Table
The three times listed in each cell of the table correspond to how difficult it is to see a star.
The shortest time noted is when an expert who knows exactly where to look can observe a star. The intermediate time noted is when a star can be seen with great difficulty. The third time noted is when a careful observer can see a star.
The time when stars are visible to a casual observer, is yet later.
[1] My assumption is that poskim may find the innovations useful in exceptional situations as opposed to more typical ones. [2] According to the vast majority of rishonim, the day ends when bein ha-shemashot ends or at most 2 minutes later. [3] Familiarity with both sugyot is assumed to fully assess this essay. [4] See my article in Hakirah spring 2019 for more detail on the Gaon’s convincing attack on Rabbeinu Tam’s position. [5] A version of that reading is presented in Ohr Meir as the opinion of the geonim, who R. Posen seeks to demonstrate conflict with that of the Gaon. What the Gaon felt mei ikar ha’din can be disputed as will be illustrated. Even if one were to reject any variation of the Gaon’s stated position, this paper can also be considered to apply to the less specific view of the geonim. [6] Both 72 or 90 minutes are increasingly assumed to apply only in the Middle East around both equinoxes and require adjustment (using depression angles) to account for variation by season and latitude. [7] These positions are more properly characterized as variants of the position of the geonim / Gaon as they are all much closer to their normally assumed period ofbein ha- shemashot. [8] Throughout R. Kapach’s commentary onMishnah Torah, however, he asserts that this is the position of Rambam. See R. Posen’s view as well, mentioned in footnote 5. [9] This seminal point was made explicitly by R. Chaim Sonnenfeld in teshuvah 33 (an approbation to a sefer on zemanim) in a recently published volume of his teshuvot. His reaction, as might be expected, was to be maḥmir, and fulfill the stringencies of both opinions. I argue that the strengths of both opinions lead to the opposite and more probable conceptual position, adopting the leniencies of both positions. [10] See Vol. 2 of HaZemanim BeHalakha by R. Ḥaim Benish, page 360, especially footnote 58. [11] Pages 251 – 252, Chavel edition, Mossad Ha-Rav Kook. [12] This argument is included due to its ancient provenance; it is easily challenged given that it is normally assumed that tosefet Shabbat can begin at plag ha’minḥah, which precedes sunset. [13] Note as well, that the gemara in Pesaḥim 94a applies to
a day of average length, which occurs around both the spring and fall equinox.
However, the days that would be referred to in Shabbat 34b would be
a minimum, as opposed to an average, and restricted to those days when the appearance of three stars occurs within the time needed to walk ¾ of a mil after sunset. For astronomic reasons such days occur only in the spring and not in the fall.
While neither of these two differences is itself convincing, both lend further support to the thesis developed. [14] See the chart by Prof. Levi provided in the attachment. [15] A more extensive analysis of Shmuel’s statement will appear in a future issue of the Torah u’Maddah journal. [16] This section assumes detailed familiarity with the sugyah on Shabbat 34b-35b. [17] Prepositions have been omitted from the statement in order not to bias the semantics. [18] Large stars are defined as kokhavei lekhet, moving stars, currently called planets. Other approaches to dividing stars into categories are much less likely and not considered. [19] The isolated opinion of R. Eliezer mi’Mitz, who begins the bein ha-shemashot period before sunset, is difficult to reconcile with Shmuel’s statement, in any case. [20] See the last two paragraphs on page 358 and especially footnote 50 in Vol. 2 of HaZemanim BeHalakha. [21] The time to walk 1/12 of a mil is between 1.5 and 2 minutes. [22] While normally I would assume Prof. Levi’s third entry matches Shmuel’s assertion, since this statement might mean seeing a star does not mean bein ha-shemashot has necessarily begun, it might mean just an accidental sighting, which may occur at the earliest time possible when normally only an expert, knowing exactly where to look, can locate a star. [23] R. Benish, R. Willig, Prof. Levi among many others struggle with this issue. [24] In the spring Sirius and Canopus can both be seen around 15 minutes after sunset. [25] Having seen no earlier discussion of this issue anywhere in the halakhic literature, I believe this interpretation originated with the Gaon in O. Ḥ. 261. The alternative under discussion, delaying the start of bein ha-shemashot by some small number of minutes after sunset, eliminating the hypothesis that bein ha-shemashot begins precisely at sunset, which leads to such questions. [26] Perhaps one can assume some worsening of atmospheric conditions, as a result of pollution, slightly decreasing visibility. I spoke with a chemist in my synagogue, Dr. Irwin Goldblatt, who verified this as a possibility. I have no basis to determine how accurate this observation might be, but it is hard to imagine that it is consequential. [27] See Minhagei Eretz Yisrael by R. Gliss, pages 102 and 282. [28] Seder Hakhnosat Shabbat, found towards the end of every Ḥabad siddur, specifies 4 minutes. He reverses the position he took in Shulḥan Arukh HaRav, which supported Rabbeinu Tam. [29]See Zemanim Ke’hilkhatam by R. Boorstyn, chapter 2, section 3, where he summarizes different 19th and 20th century posekim in the Middle East who supported times beyond 4 to 5 minutes and up to approximately 10 minutes after sunset. The rationale he and many of these posekim used is varied often relying on the notion of sea level and / or visibility from higher elevations, a topic of continued debate. [30] See the addition to Maaseh Rav section 19. Six minutes is expressed as 1/10th of an hour to be applied in both the morning and evening, although Shmuel’s assertion of “one star – daytime” is given as the reason for the slight delay after sunset. How R. Ḥaim Volozhin determined this precise time that equals the time at which an expert can see Sirius remains a mystery. [31] R. Adler, R. Loerberbaum, and R. Sofer all subtract the length of the bein hashemashot interval from the end of Shabbat, see my article, Zemannim: On the Introduction of New Concepts in Halakhah, in the TuMJ 2013. [32] It goes without saying that the instantaneous communication that characterizes of our current environment cannot be anachronistically assumed in a prior period. This impacts the assumptions made about when some of these sources are read / known, a topic not pursued further. [33] A set of arguments based on the statement of Shmuel about 1, 2 and 3 stars are not included and will be incorporated in a future paper examining both Shmuel statement and Rambam in multiple sections of Mishnah Torah, based on their mastery of astronomy as it was known in their times. [34] First suggested by the Gaon in O. Ḥ. 261, this approach is widely assumed in recent halakhic literature. Note that the gemara in Pesaḥim assumes an average day, which occurs in both the spring and fall around the equinox. However, the Gaon’s argument assumes, not an average interval, but a minimum interval and one that occurs only in the spring, but not in the fall; stars are not visible as early in the fall as in the spring. On the other hand, as suggested, a maximum would apply year-round. [35] Prof. Levi uses a depression angle normalization to spring, which we will not explain. His use of 28 is in fact closer to 30 minutes, as normally defined by clock-time. [36] 12 – 13 minutes is consistent with the manyrishonim supporting a time to walk a mil of 22.5 minutes. [37] There is no reason to debate whether the underlying science favors either of the two most commonhalakhic definitions, which sandwich current technology’s identification of the point at which the first light of the sun is visible. Expressed as depression angles the 72- and 90- minute intervals equate to depression angles of approximately 16 and 20 degrees, respectively. With the best available equipment, light from the sun can be observed at a depression angle of approximately 18 degrees. One can then argue that 16 degrees is when the amount of light is visible to humans, while 20 degrees is when one arises in anticipation of emerging light. Both are reasonable positions for defining alot hashaḥar. [38] So strong a word is intentional given the “bombe” kasha of the Gaon; see immediately below. [39] R. Moshe Sofer might be trying to deal with this point about a symmetric point to the appearance of three stars in his commentary on Shabbat 34. [40] See Rambam, Hilkhot Beit Ha’Beḥirah (1:12). Rambam’s formulation is originally stated in the negative, which raises possible questions that might be analyzed in this context. [41] Other possible examples include the operation of a beit din, the laws of aveilut, particularly the first day, etc. [42] The philosophical underpinnings that would enable such ahistorical ḥiddushim is beyond the scope of this article. Despite an accusation of partiality, one cannot dismiss the assumption that R. Soloveitchik was aware of the various challenges to his ḥiddush. Despite bringing support from the period of the rishonim, I believe the Rav was establishing what he knew to be a restatement of Rabbeinu Tam’s position, based on the undeniable accuracy and correctness of the Gaon’s notion of tzait kol ha-kokhavim. In my own mind, I have played out a long and imagined conversation with R. Soloveitchik on this subject. [43] For any number of reasons, it is difficult to imagine the perspective presented was that of Rabbeinu Tam. Rather, it might represent Rabbeinu Tam’s position updated and enhanced by what is now known scientifically. [44] What I also do not understand is why R. Soloveitchik referred to the mathematical notion of continuity as opposed to any astronomical knowledge, which I think would have been more relevant. Sinful Thoughts: Comments on Sin, Failure, Free Will, and Related Topics Based on David Bashevkin’s new book Sin•a•gogue: Sin and Failure in Jewish Thought
Sinful Thoughts: Comments on Sin, Failure, Free Will, and Related Topics Based on David Bashevkin’s new book Sin•a•gogue: Sin and Failure in Jewish Thought (Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2019)
By Rabbi Yitzchok Oratz
A Bashevkin-inspired Bio Blurb:[1] Rabbi Yitzchok Oratz is Rabbi of the Monmouth Torah Links community in Marlboro, NJ. His writings can be found in various rabbinic and popular journals, including Hakira, Ohr Yisroel, Nehoroy, Nitay Ne’emanim, and on Aish, Times of Israel, Torah Links, Seforim Blog, and elsewhere. His writings are rejected as often as they are accepted, and the four books he is currently working on will likely never see the light of day.
“I’d rather laugh[2] with the sinners than cry with the saints; the sinners are much more fun.”[3]
Fortunate is the man who follows not the advice of the wicked, nor stood in the path of the sinners, nor sat in the session of the scorners. (Psalms 1:1)
One who hopes is always happy [and] without pain . . . hope keeps one alive . . . even one who has minimal good deeds . . . has hope . . . one who hopes, even if he enters Hell, he will be taken out . . . his hope is his purity, literally the Mikvah [4] of Yisroel . . . and this is the secret of repentance . . .
(Ramchal, Derush ha-Kivuy) [5]
Rabbi David Bashevkin is a man deeply steeped in sin.
The study of sin, that is.
His recent book, Sin•a•gogue: Sin and Failure in Jewish Thought, is his second foray into the murky waters of sin, the first being his Hebrew B-Rogez Rahem Tizkor, which appeared in 2015. Throughout the book he ably serves as a “choti umachti,” as he walks us along the paths of sinners and allows us to listen in to their scorn sessions, plumbs their thoughts and analyzes their intentions, all with goal of detecting the sometimes deeply concealed sweet smell and seeds of holiness that can be found even among the sinners of Israel.[6]
As sin and failure are topics with which I am all too familiar, I took the opportunity to offer a review of sorts of the Hebrew book for readers of the Seforim Blog. The ensuing years have only honed my expertise, bringing me back to offer some comments on themes discussed in the new book.[7] While the topics of the two books are fundamentally the same, the new volume does include a great deal of entirely new material; the same will be true of this review. Furthermore, the change of language, in both the book and the review, demands a new style and structure for even the repeated material, and opens up the discussion to those who do not feel entirely at home in traditional rabbinic language and literature.
An Open Discussion of Sin Overall, I found the book to be enjoyable, informative, thought-provoking,[8] and even inspiring at times. But should this discussion of sin be taking place at all?
From a traditional Jewish perspective, the answer is far from simple. The most controversial idea in the book (chapter 4), is the radical theology of the Hasidic court of Izbica in general, and Reb Tzadok ha-Kohen of Lublin in particular,[9], that sin is sometimes inevitable and always the will of God.[10] This concept does not apply only to someone who is sick (p. 42), coerced (p. 39), or in a compromising situation (note 124), nor is it the case only for someone who is faced with the necessity of choosing the lesser of two evils (p. 41); all this is standard Talmudic discussion. Rather, Izbica theology teaches that the seemingly free-willed choice to sin, motivated solely by one’s internal desires, is also the will of God – “All is in the hands of heaven, including the fear of heaven.”[11] This, of course, seems to be in direct contradiction to the concept of free will, the “fundamental concept and pillar” that is the underpinning of the totality of the Torah (Rambam, Hilchos Teshuva 5:3).
But is this really a problem? Long before the radical statements of Izbica, Rambam (Hilchos Teshuva 5:5) noted that our free will is seemingly contradicted by the existence of an all-knowing God, and Chovos Halevavos[12] raised the problem of free will being controverted by the many verses that indicate that God is in complete control of every action that takes place.[13] Neither source offers a resolution, demanding that we live with this paradox. Why, then, can’t we deal with Izbicean though similarly, why is it considered uniquely controversial? [14]
The obvious answer is that both before and after noting the paradox between predetermination and free will, Rambam hammers home the idea that, resolution or not, free will is real:
However, this is known without any doubt: That man’s actions are in his own hands and The Holy One, blessed be He, does not lead him in a particular direction or decree that he do anything. This matter is known, not only as a tradition of faith, but also, through clear proofs from the words of wisdom (Hilchos Teshuva 5:5).
Chovos Halevavos, too, stresses that the proper path requires us to act with confidence in our freedom to make our own choices.
And because free will is real, sin, with all its consequences, is very real as well:
Accordingly, it is the sinner, himself, who causes his own loss. Therefore, it is proper for a person to cry and mourn for his sins and for what he has done to his soul . . . since free choice is in our hands and with our own decision we committed all these wrongs, it is proper for us to repent (Hilchos Teshuva 5:2). “Consequently, the prophets taught that a person is judged for his deeds, according to his deeds – whether good or bad. This is a fundamental principle on which is dependent all the words of prophecy.” (5:5) And as long as one has not repented he is “hated by God, disgusting, far removed, and abominable . . . separated from God, the Lord of Israel . . .” (7:6 – 7) .
Compare this with the Izbica/Rav Tzadok attitude toward sin as (correctly) presented in Rabbi Bashevkin’s book; the Izbica approach recognizes “the powerful religious energy present in sins and the potential to challenge such energy into greatness, ultimately result[ing] in the redemption” (p. 102, based on Divrei Halomot # 3). In the Izbica worldview, sinning doesn’t make one “hated, disgusting, and far removed” from God, because “wherever a Jew may fall, he falls into the lap of God” (p. 48, from Pri Tzadik, Naso 15). Rambam’s message to sinners is to “cry and mourn,” and hope that their misdeeds do not prevent them from ever returning (6:4), while Rav Tzadok urges sinners never to despair “in any circumstance” (p. 100, from Divrei Sofrim 16). The contrast couldn’t be starker.
Based on the above, the real challenge of Izbica is neither philosophical (determinism vs. free will), nor historical (“How did the adherents of Izbica prevent their deterministic notion of sin from developing into an antinomian concept of Judaism?” [p. 47]). Instead, the question is practical: How do we go about “incorporating the theologically and oftentimes radical aspects of Izbica Hasidut into the contemporary Jewish community” without “under[mining] the ideals that we are working towards” (p. 48)?
In truth, the real question is not how we go about incorporating aspects of Izbica, but whether we need to reassess or fine-tune the aspects that have already been absorbed into our modern theology. The relatively recent phenomenon of neo-Chassidus (of which Rabbi Bashevkin is described as an avid follower is not primarily influenced by Izbica, [15] but its understanding of sin and failure certainly have Izbician overtones.[16]
Every discussion of the neo-Chassidus movement, pro and against, raises some form of the question of whether it leads to “perver[sion] of Chassidic concepts of joy, prayer . . . to the detriment of halachic observance,” and whether the idea that one always “falls into the lap of God” is mere “sugarcoating” the reality that our connection and relationship to Him can be broken “through destructive habits and the like,” no matter how deeply spiritual one “feels.” [17]
In other words, while historically Izbica theology was not detrimental to the strict halachic observance of Izbica Chasidim, [18] the jury is still out on whether the same can be said regarding its contemporary application. [19]
Rabbi Bashevkin himself clearlyunderstands that Izbica thought is frequently misunderstood, misinterpreted and misapplied, and has a fascinating discussion on where and why its application goes wrong (pp. 50 – 52). The proper application of Izbica theology, according to Bashevkin, has us look at religious life as having a floor and a ceiling, the floor being the way “we deal with failure and those still mired in sin,” and the ceiling being the “ideals and values we reach towards.” Izbician theology can offer a message of “comfort and optimism,” helping to cushion the floor of Jewish life for those still mired in sin, without altering the ultimate ideals – “The floor was carpeted, but the ceiling remained in place” (pp. 46 – 50 and here.
While this certainly does seem to be a proper application of Izbician thought, it leaves plenty of room for the devil in the details. How comfortable should the cushions be? If every time a Jew sins he falls onto the lush carpet of the Bashevkian Izbician floor, what incentive is there ever to get up, or not to fall again? Maybe the floor needs to be carpeted, but how much more plush than commercial grade is called for?[20]
An even more fundamental question is if Bashevkin himself does justice in applying his principle. He approvingly quotes (p. 49) the work of Dr. Jennie Rosenfeld as “a fine example of the contemporary application of Izbica-Lublin theology.” Writing on the Wexner Foundation blog, Dr. Rosenfeld[21] describes her work as “focused on singles and on the need to create a sexual ethic which can speak to Orthodox singles today even when they may violate the halakhah.” Even assuming that Rabbi Bashevkin did not see her comments on the Wexner blog[22], and without casting aspersions on Dr. Rosenfeld’s important body of work, I question if a work titled “Toward a Modern Orthodox Sexual Ethic” can claim to be a faithful contemporary rendering of Izbica thought. There never was an “Izbician sexual ethic,” only “comfort and optimism” for those who had fallen (always a large segment of the community [23]) to get up off the floor and move on.
Later in that same chapter, Rabbi Bashevkin writes: ““Our collective imperfection is not cause for collective allowance . . . Sin and failure, no matter how common, can never be communally condoned or publicly institutionalized” (p. 53). This would seem to disallow creating “a sexual ethic which can speak to Orthodox singles” that might violate halacha. That was true in the community of Izbica, in the community of Rabbi Yitzhak of Arama (p. 53), and would seem no less so in the Modern Orthodox [24] community today.
The Audacity of Hope
The above discussion highlights the sensitive nature of any public discussion of sin.[25] But every generation has its challenges in handling delicate issues. Ours may the one where the overwhelmingly forgiving tone of Izbica (and Breslov) theology is most potentially dangerous, [26] but it also may be the one where it is most needed. [27]
Support for this idea may come from a surprising place.
In chapter thirteen of Bashevkin’s book, he discusses the fascinating personal correspondence of Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky (the Steipler), and correctly notes (p. 143) that the theme of “[p]roductivity, patience, and optimism return again and again” throughout his letters. But hidden in his message of optimism is another subtle, but important, point that should not be overlooked. Speaking to yeshiva students struggling with “the known sin,” the Steipler acknowledges that the message of optimism he offers was deliberately downplayed in previous generations.
“The holy books intentionally wrote with great clarity [about the devastating nature of this sin] in order to keep people from sinning,” but were “very sparse” in explaining the other side of things, how one can draw a tremendous “light of holiness upon himself and throughout worlds” each time he controls his burning desires and refrains from sin. Even if one continues to fall, says the Steipler, each time he does successfully control himself is a source of great merit and enables him to achieve levels of “unfathomable holiness,” which will eventually permit him to leave sin completely behind. It is “fundamentally important not to feel sad, and not to think of the past [sins] at all” until one has the maturity to deal with them properly. “[N]ever despair, God forbid, for one must always hope for God’s assistance . . . “ [28]
Take careful note of what he is saying: In today’s world we need the audacity to speak of hope even when mired in sin, the clarity to acknowledge that the strict and unforgiving messages of the previous generations would be counterproductive today. Harsh warnings are a thing of the past; strident calls for change do not suffice. “Hope and change” are the language of our times. [29]
Crying with the Sinners, Laughing with the Sages
While our generation may require a message of optimism and hope, and it is appropriate to look for sources in the rabbinic literature that reinforce that approach, it is equally important that we do not overplay our hand and interpret every source in an unreservedly sanguine way.
In chapter eight, Bashevkin insightfully analyzes the various versions of the tragic story of the great Talmudic sage Elisha ben Avuyah, and his spiritual descent to become Aher, the Other. In Bashevkin’s rendering, Aher is the foil to Rabbi Akiva, a Bizarro Rabbi Akiva, of sorts. Aher enters the pardes (“orchard” of mystical knowledge) and goes off the Torah path; Rabbi Akiva enters and emerges complete. Aher begins as a scholar and ends as a heretic. Akiva, by contrast, begins his life antagonistic to rabbinic authority and ends his life as a scholar. Rabbi Akiva’s outlook is portrayed as optimistic – his “exegetical perspective suggests indefatigable opportunity”; even in face of destruction, Rabbi Akiva “found reason for laughter.” Aher, on the other hand, is an “unrelenting pessimist” who “saw closed doors even when there was still hope of an entrance.” (pp. 94 – 95).
At the risk of being regarded as an unrelenting pessimist myself, I will note that while fascinating and certainly not without merit, there are limits to this interpretation.
Firstly, it does not seem that Rabbi Akiva’s “exegetical perspective suggests indefatigable opportunity” in all cases. In the Babylonian Talmud version of the story (Chagigah 15a- b), the second exegetical conversation, Rabbi Akiva’s statement that “even what is broken can be fixed” does indeed suggest a great deal of optimism. However, the first one is much more ambiguous. The concept that “the wicked take their share and the share of their friend in Gehinom” has undeniable pessimistic overtones. Furthermore, the version in the Jerusalem Talmud (cited on pp. 91 – 92), where Rabbi Akiva teaches that blessing at the end [of life] is due to good deeds at the beginning, is explicitly understood as a message of doom for Aher, as the good deeds of his beginning were not done for the sake of Heaven. [30]
More fundamentally, while Rabbi Akiva did indeed find reason for laughter as others were crying, when he would study Torah verses that indicate the severity of sin, he was brought to tears [31] (not of joy) – “When Rabbi Akiva came to this verse he would cry.” [32] Only when surrounded by his colleagues who were deeply cognizant of the severity and bleak results of sin – because of our sins we were exiled from our land – did he offer a message of hope and consolation. But sin itself is never a laughing matter (link) [34].
The Ba’al Shem Tov and (lihavdil [34]) Christine Todd Whitman: Guilty but not Charged? Over twenty years ago, I received a ticket for having an expired New Jersey state inspection sticker on my car. I knew it was expired, but was hoping I wouldn’t get caught until I’d had a chance to get the car inspected. No such luck. Guilty as charged, I paid the ticket and moved on.
Later that week, I heard on the radio that Christine Todd Whitman, then Governor of the State of New Jersey, had extended the inspection deadline for all cars by thirty days. As I had already paid the ticket, I sent off a protest letter (yes, an actual letter) to the Governor, and was pleasantly surprised when I received a very apologetic reply, stating that I was one-hundred-percent correct, but it was the responsibility of the local township to return the funds. Armed with the letter, I went down to the town hall, where they also apologized profusely, refunded my fine, and expunged this nefarious crime from my permanent record. I wasn’t guilty after all. [35]
Or was I?
In his Hebrew work (p. 40), Rabbi Bashevkin cites a parable from the Ba’al Shem Tov about a man who tests his wife by pretending to be another, and seduces her to sin. When she later brokenheartedly admits her sin, he consoles her by telling her that he had been masquerading as the seducer all along, and therefore she never really sinned.
Christine Todd Whitman might agree, but for Rabbi Akiva this would be nothing more than hollow consolation. As discussed in Rabbi Bashevkin’s book (pp. 33 – 36) it was these types of scenarios that brought Rabbi Akiva to tears, and Rabbi Hiyya bar Ashi to a life of repentance and a death in misery. The very fact that one intended to sin was reason for tears and repentance; that no actual sin occurred as no source of consolation.
But the Ba’al Shem Tov was not the first to offer such consolation; Yosef offered similar solace to his brothers. Which is it? Are such scenarios causes for comfort or for crying? Bashevkin offers a number of possible resolutions (pp. 35 – 36).
Besides those he offers, others are given; [36] I would like to offer my own.
Every sin has two components: the rebellion against God and the actual damage done. In these scenarios, the consolation is only that no damage was done (either because no sin was committed or the act turned out to be for the best). But the rebellion against God’s authority still exists, and is a cause for tears.[37] In the case of Yosef’s brothers, since they had already genuinely repented (see Genesis 42:21 with Sha’arey Aharon), no new tears were needed. Only because their sincere repentance had been accepted could their negative plans be viewed as a source of blessing. [38]
First there are tears and repentance, only afterwards is the consolation meaningful.
A Flag as White as Snow [39]
Both in the text and the notes, I have touched on some of the thought-provoking topics raised in Rabbi Bashevkin’s book, touching on some of the topics (and there are many more [40]), that are ripe for discussion, challenge, debate and clarification k’darko shel Torah (see Chagigah 3b). Indeed, a strong point of the book is that it covers many fundamentally important topics in a way that is relatable to scholar and layman alike.
Besides being provocative, discussion of sin can also be inspiring. In chapter six, Bashevkin offers a touching rereading of Richard Pindell’s famous story, “Somebody’s Son,” that would be good material for any rabbi’s Yom Kippur derasha.[41] The chapter starts off with the theologically challenging question (based on Gemara Chullin 60b), “Does God Repent?”
But theology aside, the very idea that God is hoping – waiting, so to speak – to see if He will be allowed into our lives, is one that deeply resonates.[42]
For seven years straight I had the privilege of davening on Yom Kippur in Beth Medrash Govoha’s Bais Eliyahu Bais Medrash. All of those years, the revered Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Yeruchem Olshin, shlit”a, led the davening forNeilah and spoke beforehand, and for seven years straight he said, with great emotion, the same exact thing:[43]
Yom Kippur is a great thing; there is nothing better than it . . . if we only would take advantage . . . A parable: A king made a feast to show his love for his subjects . . . four hours went by, five hours went by and no one came . . . finally towards evening people started trickling in . . . the king ran over to them and said with great emotion “I owe you a great favor! If not for you the entire feast that I made would have to be fed to the dogs.”
Yom Kippur is not only about us returning to favor in God’s eyes. It is also about His hope (kaviyachol) that we take the opportunity to let Him into our lives. Ultimately, this is what Rabbi Bashevkin’s book is about – finding a way to let God in, to allow His spark to uplift our very human, often sinful, lives.
If you extract the precious from the worthless, you shall be as my mouth . . .
(Jeremiah 15:19)
Es Va’heiv B’Sofa
(Kidushin 30b)
Notes: [1] See Sin•a•gogue, pp. xv – xvi, and R’ Bashevkin’s earlier comments here. The idea that one should have a bio that includes failure may be the reason why the Torah includes the sins of the ancient greats. See the commentary of Rabbeinu Asher on Beraishis 38:16. [2] See Sin•a•gogue, p. 95, and our discussion below. [3] I start with this line from Billy Joel’s “Only the Good Die Young” to highlight a striking feature of Bashevkin’s book. The chapters all begin with epigraphs that run the gamut of sources, ranging from John Milton (Paradise Lost) to Bob Dylan (“Absolutely Sweet Marie,” which Bashevkin misspells as Mary) to an HBO crime drama True( Detective). The common denominator is that there is not a Jewish source among them. Indeed, throughout the book there are seemingly more obscure pop-culture references than desultory Talmudic discussions (see p. 195). This style is common in the outreach world that he (and I) work in, and popular among certain segments of the Orthodox community. Through Bashevkin’s creative pen, these sources make the book a lighter, more enjoyable read, palatable to a wider audience, without diminishing the seriousness of the topics he discusses. Of course, for some Torah scholars, this approach would be considered misguided (if not blasphemous), and their concern should not be discounted. In his Foreword to the book (p. x), Shaul Magid writes that it is “precisely Bashevkin’s point” to level the playing field by comparing a comment by George Orwell to the Hazon Ish. I have my doubts if that really is his point. In any case, while it is certainly true that sin and failure are universal concerns, and, for example, a “preacher’s kid” may have struggles similar to those of a rabbi’s son (see note 309), this book is specifically about sin and failure in Jewish thought. By emphasizing similarities we sometimes gloss over fundamental differences. See the comments of Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein in Judaism’s Encounter with Other Cultures: Rejection or Integration?, ed. Jacob J. Schacter (Northvale, NJ, 1997), p. 278. See also his “The Future of Centrist Orthodoxy,” Leaves of Faith. vol. 2 [Jersey City: Ktav, 2004], p. 323, where he writes, “Does a universalist concern require that youngsters – and hence most adults as well – know a good deal about the Rolling Stones but nothing of the Avnei Nezer? “ To apply his point to one of the topics in the book under discussion – I know many more people who know about the question of determinism vs. free will from The Adjustment Bureau than those who have spent time studying the sacred sources of our tradition. See also the comments of Rabbi Zion Baoron, in his michtav beracha (point # 3) to Rabbi David Stav’s Bein HaZemanim (Yedioth Acharonoth books, Tel Aviv 2012). [4] Mikvah has the same root as tikvah – hope. [5] A new edition of this work, with commentary, was recently put out by R’ Mordechai Elbaz of Kollel Sha’arey Tzion. Reading the Hebrew, I found it shocking how much the theme, and even the words, are reminiscent of the teachings of Rav Nachman of Breslov. I subsequently found that others agreed (see here). [6] See Gemara Chagigah 15b and 27a (I am not sure how this fits with Chagigah 14a), Beraishis Rabba 65:22, Rav Tzadok ha- Kohen of Lublin (Likutey Ma’amarim #8, 12, and 16, and Machshavos Charutz # 8), Rav Nachman of Breslov Likutey( Mohoran # 178), and Rav Nosson of Breslov (Likutey Tefilos 2:10). [7] The earlier review was far easier to write, as it was during the month of Elul when sin and repentance are timely topics, and the roar of Elul from my yeshiva days was still ringing in my ears. But maybe this shouldn’t be the case. Maharsha (end of Megilah) writes that there is no specific mitzvah to expound on the laws of teshuva thirty days prior to Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, asteshuva is a year-round undertaking. Furthermore, some commentaries explain that we begin reciting Pirkey Avos during the spring, as this season renders us particularly susceptible to sin (seePiskey Teshuvos 292 # 9). [8] One especially thoughtful and thought-provoking topic is Bashevkin’s extremely powerful discussion of the challenges facing rabbis’ children and the challenge of balancing love of Torah and love of family (chapter 10). This issue is not new – see Gemara Bava Metzia, 85a. Some important sources on this topic include Rav Matisyahu Solomon’s commentary on Rav Moshe Cordevaro’s Tomar Devorah (on the middah of L’She’airis Nachalaso), as well as his commentary of the last verses in Megilas Esther. Rav Matisyahu writes that in order to give meaning to God’s directive that we treat the entire Jewish people as family, we must first treat our actual family kindly (Rav Matisyahu is in favor of nepotism). Praying that God have mercy “like a father has mercy on his children,” is worse than meaningless if we don’t have mercy on our actual children. It is not clear, however, if all the ba’aley mussar agree. See Rav Yitzchok Blazer’s comments in Kochvei Ohr (regarding Rav Yisroel Salanter) and Tenuas HaMussar (volume 4, pp. 173 and 271 – 272) about the Alter of Novardok’s disregard and seeming cruelty to his family. See also Gemara Gittin 6b, Eruvin 22a, Ta’anis 23b – 24a. I hope to discuss this topic in detail in an upcoming article (and book).
On this topic, a must-read is the powerful poem by Rabbi Samuel Adelman, and the beautiful letter by his daughter, Roz Duman, which can be found in Jewish Action (Fall 2017, p. 3). One can only hope all rabbis would be so sensitive to their children’s plight, and a daughter so understanding and appreciative of her father, as this parent and child. Speaking of rabbis’ children, see here where the Klausenberger Rebbe zt”l, is quoted as questioning a father’s qualifications based on how his son turns out as an adult. However, see there where Professor Marc B. Shapiro correctly points out that “there are many examples of pious people whose children ended up very differently.” Considering whom some of these fathers were (see the book under discussion, p. 78), the Klausenberger Rebbe’s point is very difficult to understand. [9] It should be noted, that the seforim of Rav Tzadok were understood to explain and moderate some of the more problematic statements of Izbica. See Sefer Yam Ha-Chochma (5779, p. 450 – 451). [10] These are two related, but distinct, concepts. See my review of the Hebrew edition in Yitzchok Oratz, “Review of ‘Sefer Berogez Racheim Tizkor’, by Dovid Bashevkin,” the Seforim Blog (7 September 2015), availablehere . [11] See the sources in the book (note 131) and in my Hebrew review in Yitzchok Oratz, “Review of ‘Sefer Berogez Racheim Tizkor’, by Dovid Bashevkin,” the Seforim Blog (7 September 2015), available here, at note 16. [12] Sha’ar Avodas Hashem # 8. [13] Rambam raises a similar question, but doesn’t leave this one unanswered — see Hilchos Teshuva 5:5 and 6:5. Lechem Mishneh (6:5) assumes that the two questions are one and the same, but this is strongly challenged by Ohr Sameach (6:5) and Arba Turey Even (brought down in Sefer ha-Likkutim in the Frankel Rambam, 6:5). [14] Indeed, maybe the answer here too is that it remains a paradox. See Tzidkas HaTzadik # 40 and my Hebrew review in Yitzchok Oratz, “Review of ‘Sefer Berogez Racheim Tizkor’, by Dovid Bashevkin,” the Seforim Blog (7 September 2015), available here, at note 18. [15] Neo-Chassidus is influenced by many streams of classical Chasidus. Indeed, part of its charm is that it is not limited to any one school of thought or practice. That being said, I have heard its influences described with an acronym that spells out the name of the prophet Chabakuk – standing for Chabad, Breslov, (R’ Shlomo) Carlebach and (Rav) Kook. Throw in a little Komarno, Berditchev and Rav Tzadok, and I do think it is a workable description. [16] We are not discussing Izbica ideology per se, but rather its effect on our attitude toward sin. It is likely that the neo-Chassidic attitude toward failure and sin may be more influenced by Breslov than by Izbica, but both play a role. While Breslov does not share the Izbica theology of free will (see Likutey Mohoran, Tinyana 110), they share much in common regarding the proper response to sin and religious failure (see pp. 284 – 285). Whatever the exact influence, the questions, discussion and challenges that follow still apply. [17] The first quote is from R’ Joey Rosenfeld (a strong supporter) in the Jewish Article article on neo- Chassidus, the second from Rabbi Noach Shafran (a harsh critic) in a Mishpacha magazine conversation in response to their earlier article on the subject. Rabbi Shafran’s comments brought a firm, but calm, response from Rav Moshe Weinberger (rav of Congregation Aish Kodesh in Woodmere, New York, and the undisputed spiritual leader of neo-Chassidus in America) in print, but a far harsher one in two public shiurim he gave shortly after the printed response came out. (The shiurim used to be available here, but seem to have been taken down, possibly because Rabbi Weinberger felt he had been too harsh. The sources to “Hashem’s Unbreakable Love For Every Jew” are still available here. The greatest share of Rabbi Weinberger’s barely concealed ire was directed at the idea that a Jew can have his connection to Hashem broken. [18] “[N]o one, scholar or Hasid, disputes the halakhic nature of Izbica life.” “The Izbica community and its associated communities in Radzyn and Lublin were quite halakhic.” – see here. See also and my Hebrew review in Yitzchok Oratz, “Review of ‘Sefer Berogez Racheim Tizkor’, by Dovid Bashevkin,” the Seforim Blog (7 September 2015), available here, at note 35. [19] To clarify, and not to be accused of disparaging a large group of yeraim v’shlaimim, I am speaking about a relatively small percentage of the group. As a whole, it certainly seems to be a force for enhanced avodas Hashem. I, too, have gained much from the seforim of Rav Yitzchok Meir Morgenstern and Rav Avraham Tzvi Kluger (among others), and from the shiurim of Rav Weinberger and Rav Meilech Biderman, and very much look forward to my annual pilgrimage to Aish Kodesh for Lag Ba’omer (see here). But as opposed to Izbica theology having no known negative effect on its original adherents (for reasons explained by Bashevkin on pp. 50 – 52), the same cannot necessarily be said about neo-Chassidus today. In Rabbi Weinberger’s written response he rhetorically asks, “Can it be that there is a holy reason why every passing year sees more and more people gravitating to places like Uman or Lizhensk?” No doubt. But as anyone who has been to Uman or Lizhensk (and now Kerestir) can testify, there can also be non-holy or unholy reasons, as well. [20] In Rabbi Weinberger’s above-mentioned lectures, he says he was challenged to reconcile histeaching of “God’s unbreakable love for every Jew” (see also Zohar, Shemos 5b) with the words of the Rambam that speak of the sinner being “hated by God, disgusting, far removed and abominable.” Rabbi Weinberger’s response (oversimplified here) is that on the deepest level the love always remains. But the question remains — whatever the answer, Rambam did write the words “hated, etc.” Doesn’t that indicate that, on some level, the sinner is supposed to feel hated etc.? Is the sinner justified, upon seeing those words, to run straight to the teachings of Rav Nachman and Izbica for comfort? How does Rabbi Weinberger know that when Rabbi Shafran speaks of the broken relationship, he isn’t simply reiterating the concepts expressed by Rambam? Should there be some degree of discomfort, even feeling of God’s (dare I say) hate after sinning? Or is the carpet so thick that we never even feel the fall?
It could be argued that the Rambam himself never tells the sinner that he is hated. Only once he repents does Rambam tell him how fortunate he is to have overcome his prior state. And the Breslov response is likely that any harsh message (like that of Reishis Chochma) is always intended to come with a concomitant sense of God’s love (see the sources in Rav Avraham Tzvi Kluger’s Yichud HaShabbos (volume 2, p. 32). But I still think the matter needs much more clarification then it has received. [21] Dr. Rosenfeld has another title – “manhiga ruchanit,” – and another she does not seem to have – “rabbi” (see here). The question of the appropriateness of both these titles may be related to Izbica as well – see here and here. See also the recent review by Dr. Rosenfeld of Sin•a•gogue at the Lehrhaus blog. [22] It may have been too painful for Rabbi Bashevkin to go to the Wexner blog, as he was ‘rejected from the Wexner Graduate Fellowship. Twice.’ (here) (This would be the appropriate place to put a “JK” or smiley emoji, but I don’t want to be known as a pioneer in using text slang or emojis in rabbinic or academic writing. Although being that among the thousands of seforim online at HebrewBooks Dot Org, Bashevkin’s is likely the only one that includes the author’s Twitter handle (see here), maybe this review would be an appropriate place to introduce some 21st-century lingua franca. But I resist.) [23] See Raishis Chochma, Sha’ar HaTeshuva 3:10, who writes that no one in his day was free of the sin of hotza’as zera livatala. [24] This is the true regardless of whether the word “modern” is a qualifier or not. [25] This is especially the case regarding sexual matters, see Chagigah 11b, and especially when presented to a popular, as opposed to scholarly, audience. See Iggeros Moshe (EH 1:64, and 3:14). This highlights a fundamental difference between Rabbi Bashevkin’s Hebrew and English books. Both are fine works, both cover similar sensitive and controversial topics, but even the most traditional reader would not find Rabbi Bashevkin’s Hebrew sefer problematic, not the case with the English one. Aside from the fact that he is far more cautious in the Hebrew work (see my Hebrew review in Yitzchok Oratz, “Review of ‘Sefer Berogez Racheim Tizkor’, by Dovid Bashevkin,” the Seforim Blog (7 September 2015), available here, at note 4), style (see note 3 above) and audience matter. To use Bashevkin’s terminology (from the introduction to Mei ha-Shlioah), Hebrew readers are more likely to be “Intimates who understand [its] true value” (p. 50). [26] See B-Rogez Rahem Tizkor, page 42) for a fascinating explanation (from Rav Hutner) of why free will is under attack, especially in our days. [27] See my Hebrew review in Yitzchok Oratz, “Review of ‘Sefer Berogez Racheim Tizkor’, by Dovid Bashevkin,” the Seforim Blog (7 September 2015), available here at end of note 4). [28] See letters 11 – 15 in volume 1 ofKreina d-Igrassa (Bashevkin’s spelling. No one in history has ever pronounced it like that, including, I am willing to bet, the Steipler himself.) [29] Despite these words of encouragement, some of the points raised above still need to be clarified. The Steipler was speaking to yeshiva students in despair, offering hope to those who already felt the pain of the fall and the extreme discomfort of the “floor.” His words of hope to them (and thousands of yeshiva students who subsequently read his words) was lifesaving. Furthermore, even to them, he does mention the fear of punishment as a tool to refrain from sin. (See, for example, letter # 14). [30] I find it fascinating, yet tragic, that the one teaching in the Mishna recorded in the name of Elisha ben Avuya (Avos 4:20) is how a child is a clean slate. Yet, at the end of his life he claimed that from the very beginning his slate wasn’t clean. [31] And sometimes he cried and laughed – see Gemara Avoda Zara 20a. (The laughter there does seem to indicate optimism, but the tears do seem to me somewhat pessimistic, seeing something good and already thinking that all good must come to an end.) [32] Kiddushin 81b. [33] It should be noted that that even contemplating the severity of sin permitted Rabbi Akiva to find a spark of hope. When Rabbi Akiva recognized the severe consequences of any involvement with sinful behavior, he realized that this must indicate an even greater reward for those who have any involvement in good deeds. See Rashi onVayikra 5:17. [34] The term “lihavdil” is not meant, God forbid, to disparage Whitman. See Senator Joe Lieberman’s The Gift of Rest (Howard Books, New York, 2011, p. 198). [35] As noted in the book (p. 32), the idea that one cannot be held responsible for an attempt to commit crimes that were never actually possible to execute raises questions regarding the legality of certain sting operations. .
Bashevkin also discusses culpability for an attempt when, if successful, an actual crime would have occurred. He concludes that a “conceptual category of attempt . . . does not seem to exist in Jewish law . . . attempted murder . . . is not found in the Talmud” (p. 32 -33). Bashevkin’s conclusion takes for granted that the concepts of being permitted to kill a rodef (a pursuer) and ba b’machteres (a burglar who tunnels/breaks into a home) are forms of preemptive strike to save the victim, not punishment for the attempted murderer. This is not remotely clear, as there is a large body of Talmudic debate on the topic. For some discussion, see the language used in Rambam, Sefer HaMitzvos (positive mitzvos # 239 and 247 and negative mitzvah # 293), Shiurey Rav Dovid (Povarsky, Bava Basra 7b), Shiurey Rav Shmuel (Rozovsky, Sanhedrin 72b, note 309), Noda B’Yehuda, Tinyana, CM # 60, and Aruch Laner (Sanhedrin 73a).
Even more questionable is whyeidim zomimin (conspiring/falsified witnesses) are not an example of criminal attempted sins, as they are punished for thought only, but not when action takes place, See Rashi to Devarim 19:19. See also Chidushey Rabbenu Chaim HaLevi, Hilchod Edus chapter 20, and the comments of Rav Yechezkal Abramsky (Melech B’Yafyo, p. 301). For a more kabbalistic approach, see Sefer Yam Ha-Chochma (5778, p. 152 – 153, based on Maharal, Be’er HaGolah chapter 2). [36] See also Rabbi Yehoshua Oshinsky,Sefer Shalmey Levi (Modi’in Ilit, 5770), p. 58 – 60). [37] This is likely the intent of the parable of the Ba’al Shem Tov (mentioned above); there, too, the consolation comes only after repentance. See Peri Tzadik, Roch Chodesh Menachem Av # 1. [38] See my Hebrew review in Yitzchok Oratz, “Review of ‘Sefer Berogez Racheim Tizkor’, by Dovid Bashevkin,” the Seforim Blog (7 September 2015), available here, at note 2. [39] On p. 3, Bashevkin writes that 19th-century anthropologist Frank Boas’s assertion that the Eskimos have numerous words for snow is “not entirely discredited,” but on p. 13 writes that it has “long been discredited.” I guess it took a long time two write those ten pages, but not long enough to correct the name to Franz (see note 22 above, and apply here). In any case, the earlier assertion seems correct (see here). [40] Some additional, random comments on the book: 1) On the first page of the Foreword there is a typo on the third-to- bottom line (“or” instead of “our”). 2) Page xii – regarding sanitized storytelling – see my comments in The Torah U-Madda Journal (Volume 8, pp. 331 – 333). I was subsequently quite surprised to see that Prof. Kimmy Caplan wrote an entire article in Kimmy Caplan, “‘Absolutely Intellectually Honest’: A Case Study of American Jewish Modern Orthodox Historiography,” in Rachel Elior and Peter Schäfer, eds., Creation and Re–Creation in Jewish Thought: Festschrift in Honor of Joseph Dan on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005), 339-361 available online here, addressing one of my points, and especially pleased with his conclusion (p. 361): “Rabbi Oratz was correct in observing that Modern Orthodox historiographers are similar in nature to Haredi historiographers.” 3) Regarding the value of “Half Repentance” (p. 127), it should be noted that not all agree. See the first “Likkut” on Hilchos Teshuva in the Sefer HaLikuttim of the Frankel Rambam. 4) Regarding outward coercion bringing out inner desire (p. 129), see Sefer Darkey Moshe (Rabbi Shachna Mendel Scheiner, 5778, p. 329) where Rav Moshe Feinstein is quoted as positing the radical idea that based on this there can almost never be a mitzvah done shelo lishma, as any external influence just represents inner desire! [41] I plan on using it. Please don’t tell my community. [42] Related to this idea, see the powerful story told by Shlomo Zalman Shragai, cited in Rabbi Norman Lamm’s The“ Shema” [The Jewish Publication Society, Philadelphia, 2000, p. 118 – 119.] [43] In Yiddish, of course. This derasha, highly based on the Yom Kippur derasha of Rav Aharon Kotler, zt”l, can be found (with sources) in Rav Olshin’s Sefer Yareach L’Moadim on Yom Kippur (Ma’amar # 83). The version in print differs slightly from the version I heard each year.
היום הרת Musings on the Piyut עולם
היום הרת עולם Musings on the Piyut
By Joseph Wertzberger
The following post is based in part on a lecture by Rabbi Ben Greenfield, newly installed Rabbi of the Greenpoint Shul, and several of its key ideas are his.
* * * is a very early piyut by an unknown היום הרת עולם The poem author, appearing in writing as early as Siddur Rav Amram Ga’on, and is very widely recited after each of the sets of Tekiyot during the Shemonei Esrei of Mussaf on Rosh Hashana. The poem is an elegy eloquently expressing the sense of fear, awe and dread in the uncertainty of judgement that the world experiences each year on the birthday of its creation.
היום הרת עולם
היום יעמיד במשפט
כל יצורי עולמים אם כבנים
אם כעבדים
אם כבנים רחמנו
כרחם אב על בנים
ואם כעבדים
עינינו לך תלויות
עד שתחננו
ותוציא כאור משפטנו
איום קדוש
I’d like to help shed light on some of the wide-ranging, poetic meanings and allusions of the piyut, by examining the meanings of the words, phrases and concepts that appear, as well as their sources in Tanach and Chazal. As we examine more closely the sources of these very short, alliterative phrases and ideas; alternate and variant layers of meaning present themselves to be revealed.
היום הרת עולם is commonly translated as birth, conception or הרת The word as ,הָרָה probably more accurately) gestation – from the root) The first line of .במדבר יא in האנכי הריתי את כל העם הזה in the poem, in its simplest reading, announces very plainly: “Today is the birth of the world”. where ,ירמיהו כ is in הרת עולם The source of the phrase Jeremiah says “Cursed is the day in which I was born, the day in which my mother birthed me; let it not be blessed. Cursed is the man… who did not kill me from the womb. If only my and her womb an – ורחמה הרת עולם – mother were my tomb ארור היום אשר ילדתי בו יום אשר ילדתני) ”.everlasting pregnancy אמי אל יהי ברוך. ארור האיש אשר בשר את אבי לאמר ילד לך בן זכר שמח שמחהו. והיה האיש ההוא כערים אשר הפך ה’ ולא נחם ושמע זעקה בבקר ותרועה בעת צהרים. אשר לא מותתני מרחם ותהי לי אמי קברי ורחמה הרת . עולםלמה זה מרחם יצאתי לראות עמל ויגון ויכלו בבשת (.ימי
Disconcertingly, the passuk is harshly negative, with a tone and meaning very different from the piyut. Not only that, but is used with a completely different meaning עולם the word (world/forever). as עולם Curiously, however, if we reread the piyut translating suddenly switches to mean an הרת עולם ever, the phrase everlasting birth, like it does in the passuk. The piyut is refocused into pronouncing, “Today is an everlasting birth.” In other words, the birth of the world that began the first Rosh Hashana is everlasting through history on this day. And the reason for that is because:
היום יעמיד במשפט
.משלי כט ,מלך במשפט יעמיד ארץThe source of the phrase is in “A king with justice raises up (alternatively: sets right) the the מעמיד world.” G-d, as king and judge of the world is רבן שמעון .world, so to speak, through the power of Mishpat בן גמליאל אומר, על שלשה דברים העולם קיים, על הדין… שנאמר אמת ומשפט שלום שפטו בשעריכם. אבות א יח
Which means that while we can initially read the first two lines of the poem as, “Today is the birth of the universe, all the world’s creatures are presented to judgement”, we can also read it at a second level as, “Today is an everlasting birth; today G-d raises, through Justice, all creatures of the universe”. Rosh Hashana is the continual rebirth of the world, because the world is repeatedly raised up through Justice on this day – the original purpose of the world’s creation repeated each year as Justice is manifest into the world. (Thank you again to Rabbi Ben Greenfield for this most wonderful and key idea.)
Even more deeply, the two readings mirror and are extensions of each other. An abstract truth and idea such as Justice, that we perceive in G-d, becomes real – that is it is expressed, instantiated and concretized, and its realization occurs – by its enactment in the universe, much as a king’s rule is only realized through the existence of his subjects (a ,אין מלך בלא עם ,common concept in Chabad Chassidic writings based initially on Tanya ch. 7, with its earliest source and elsewhere in the ,כד הקמח, ראש השנה ב appearing in writings of Rabbeinu Bachya ben Asher, student of the Rashba). ,isn’t manifest until he expresses it in something משפט G-d’s and by judging us he expresses Justice; we might even say he ‘creates’ it.
היום A third reading of the poem’s introductory lines is that today, Rosh Hashana, is an everlasting, recurring ,הרת עולם gestation, because each year is pregnant and gestates on its Judgement is ,יעמיד במשפט כל יצורי עולמים Rosh Hashana when implanted into the world, for it to become realized, expressed and carried out later on, during and throughout the year.
אם כבנים אם כעבדים
The simplest reading of our dual presentation as sons and slaves in the poem, and its initially apparent meaning on a first pass through the poem, is that while our relationship with G-d is in one sense as a son to his father, and in another as a slave to his master – either way, we beseech you G-d, judge us favorably today.
A second layer of meaning, though, sits just beneath the surface, waiting to be revealed as we reread the poem more closely. And that is that whether we’ll be judged as children אתם קרוים בנים :or as slaves is also hanging in the balance וקרוין עבדים. בזמן שאתם עושין רצונו של מקום אתם קרוין בנים, Bava Basra) ובזמן שאין אתם עושין רצונו של מקום אתם קרוין עבדים 10A, and see also Kidushin 36A). We are also judgedon whether to be judged as a son or as a slave. The poem alludes whether or not we are as – ואם כעבדים :to this again later on .this too hangs in the balance – עינינו לך תלויות ,slaves and its dichotomy is אם כבנים אם כעבדים A third reading of בן יכבד אב ועבד אדניו. ואם ,based on the passuk in Malachi 1 whether we are – אב אני איה כבודי, ואם אדונים אני איה מוראי children and whether we are slaves – in either case we may be judged for transgressing G-d’s will. Either way, we should have respected or feared G-d, and we now tremble to be judged for not having done so.
But nevertheless:
רחום וחנון
עד on the one hand, and בנים for כרחם אב The interplay of רחום on the other, is an obvious parallel to ,עבדים for שתחננו two primary attributes that G-d exhibits in ,חנון and In the beautiful words of the Rambam in .(שמות לד) judgement Chapter 54 of the Guide:
הנה נתבאר כי הדרכים אשר ביקש משה רבנו ידיעתן… הם הפעולות הבאות מאתו יתעלה, וחכמים קוראים אותם מידות ואומרים שלוש עשרה מידות. ואין העניין כאן שהוא בעל מידות, אלא עושה פעולות הדומות לפעולות הנעשות על ידינו כתוצאה ממידות… כל פעולה שנשיג מפעולותיו, נתארו יתעלה בתואר שאותה הפעולה יוצאת ממנו, ונקראהו בשם הנגזר מאותה הפעולה. המשל בכך, כאשר הושגה עדינות ניהולו בהתהוות עוברי בעלי החיים, והמצאת כוחות בו ובמגדליו לאחר לידתו המונעים ממנו את המוות והאובדן, ושומרים עליו מן הנזקים, ועוזרים לו בצרכיו החיוניים, וכעין פעולה זו לא תיעשה מצדנו כי אם לאחר התפעלות והתרגשותו והוא עניין הרחמנות, לכך נאמר עליו יתעלה רחום כדרך שנאמר כרחם אב על בנים… לא שהוא יתעלה מתפעל ומתרגש, אלא כאותה הפעולה הבאה מצד האב כלפי הבן שהיא תוצאה של רגישות וחמלה והתפעלות בהחלט, תבוא מצדו יתעלה כלפי חסידיו. וכשם שכאשר אנו נותנים דבר למי שאין לו עלינו חובה נקרא זה בלשוננו חנינה… והוא יתעלה ממציא ומנהל את מי שאין לו עליו חוב בהמצאתו והנהלתו ולפיכך
נקרא חנון in situations similar to רחום G-d can be said to act as a for example as a human ,רחום where a human would behave as a to its child, where the nature of the familial relationship .רחמים emotively drives, and filially obligates, a behavior of providing bounty completely ,חנון G-d also acts as a undeserved, in situations where nothing is deserved at all.
The dynamic is two-fold, and bi-directional. Just as in our world favor is shown by the parent to the child both because it’s in the nature of the parent to provide (parents simply for their children), and because the child רחמים well up with also deserves, and has a right and a claim to, the parent’s האנכי הריתי את כל ) העםfavor by virtue of being their child ;(במדבר יא in ,הזה אם אנכי ילדתיהוכי תאמר אלי שאהו בחיקך relative to creations with which רחום similarly, G-d acts as a he exhibits a father-son relationship, that is he exhibits mercy and compassion as an expression of the relationship – that’s simply what fathers do; but it’s also true that if we are his children we have a claim to his mercy – he owes it to us – as a child has a claim to their parent’s effort and favor, and we have a right to ask for it.
A slave on the other hand is owed nothing, and can’t ask for .מתנת חינם ,mercy by right. A slave can only hope for grace and created for הרת עולם Thus, as G-d’s children, conceived in אמונות ודעות סוף) the purpose of receiving his bounteous good we ask ,(מאמר א וריש מאמר ג, מורה ג כה, דרך השם ב, ועוד הרבה for G-d’s mercy. As your children, you must have mercy on us רחם אב like a father. And G-d accedes to our request, he is as the passuk tells us in Tehilim 103, the phrase’s ,על בנים לא כחטאינו עשה לנו ולא כעונתינו גמל עלינו… :original source .כרחם אב על בנים רחם ה’ על יראיו
,יצורי עולמים But we are also G-d’s slaves, in a manner at ,למענו יתברך existing simply as of the universe he created his whim and for his sake alone, because he willed it so and אמונות ודעות סוף מאמר א, מורה א יג,) for purposes unfathomable the) ואם כעבדים חננו As slaves we don’t get to say .(ועוד because we have no right to ask or (אם כבנים רחמנו parallel of is immediate while רחמנו expect it. Notice also how the son’s ) is delayed and future orienteduntil עד שתחננו the slave’s you will grace us). In our presentation as slaves, we can ask for nothing, because nothing is deserved and we have nothing coming to us. Our embarrassed gaze simply hangs towards G-d, in shame and with no claim, until he provides us his אליך נשאתי את עיני… הנה, כעיני עבדים אל יד .undeserved grace אדוניהם, כעיני שפחה אל יד גברתה, כן עינינו אל ה’ אלהינו עד .(Tehilim 123) שיחננו
We are both your child and your creation. The case of the child is hopeful, looking towards his father’s mercy, while the case of the slave is hopeless, with nothing to confidently depend upon, except to beseech the master.
אם כבנים רחמנו כרחם אב על בנים, ואם כעבדים עינינו לך תלויות… עד שתחננו
ותוציא כאור משפטנו which ,נוסח ספרד In its simplest reading (and particularly in the phrase means, “Present for us a ,(ותוציא לאור משפטנו reads positive judgement”, or “judge us favorably”. The wording has He“ – והוציא כאור צדקך ומשפטך כצהרים its source in Tehilim 37 will express as light your righteousness, and your [good] judgement as the mid-day”. The sentence is Tehilim, when read in the context of its surrounding verses, says that, firstly, when you follow G-d’s ways, that path will enable your positive behavior and attributes to be expressed to the world, and secondly, they will express themselves through G-d in a way that will benefit you positively. (The surrounding verses, אל תתחר במרעים אל תקנא בעשי עולה. כי ,for full context, read כחציר מהרה ימלו וכירק דשא יבולון. בטח בה ועשה טוב שכן ארץ ורעה אמונה. והתענג על ה’ ויתן לך משאלות לבך. גול על ה’ דרכך ובטח עליו והוא יעשה. והוציא כאור צדקך ומשפטך כצהרים. דום לה’ (.והתחולל לו
Turning that back around to the piyut we find ourselves asking G-d, not only to simply judge us positively, but more deeply to express and reveal the good that is within us, the that we ourselves express all year – let G-d משפט righteous reveal it and express it back to us on Rosh Hashana, and bring our righteousness and justice to light, and see and express the good that is within us. based on the same set ,ותוציא כאור משפטנו A third reading of of verses in Tehilim 37, is that since as slaves we have no right or claim to G-d’s good judgement, and all we can do is simply hang our eyes and look to G-d and hope – when we do that, that is sufficient to have G-d bring to light our גול על ה’ דרכך ובטח עליו והוא יעשה. ,righteous judgement -by the act of hanging onto G – והוציא כאור צדקך ומשפטך כצהרים d and throwing our lot and entrusting our judgement to him, we עינינו לך תלויות עד – bring about his good judgement onto us we look to you as a servant to – שתחננו ותוציא כאור משפטנו ,תחננו ותוציא כאור משפטנו ,their master – and for that alone bring to light our judgement.
איום קדוש
How awesome, great and holy!
Poetic Allusions, Alliterations and Constructs :עלי שיר
Some additional points relating to the poetic aspects and expressions of the piyut:
1. It immediately brings into focus, on the very first two lines, the two main themes of the day – creation and judgement. and רתת ,הרס also brings to mind the words הרת The word .2 in וה’ בהיכל קדשו הס מפניו כל הארץ the latter as in – הס all of which serve alliteratively to impress – חבקוק ב upon our mind the awe and dread of the day. brings to mind אִם, אִם, אִם The repetition of the word .3 mother, mother; and together – אֵם, אֵם, אֵם cries of -in addition of course to the lead) כרחם and רחמנו with give voice to maternal , רֶחֶםrepresenting (הרת in .רחמים instincts of 4. Most wonderfully, if you read the poem with the pronunciation and meter of ancient Hebrew, the way it would have likely been chanted by early congregations, you’ll notice that the meter of the verse lilts and lulls quite rhythmically and evenly until hitting the ,at which point the meter is chopped off , תלויות word sounding at an uneven kilter and creating a break in the meter flow, almost as if hitting a cliff – and then the original meter returns for the rest of the poem through the ending. Now, once you notice this, read and listen again even more closely, and you’ll hear a similar, but אם כבנים smaller and less prominent break, at the words .אם כעבדים 5. Lovers of ancient piyut will no doubt know that many piyutim (and even parts of Tanach) were written with geometric configurations, with parts of the poem setting off or mirroring other parts in structural patterns. :is no exception, and is entirely marvelous היום הרת
היום הרת עולם איום קדוש
היום יעמיד במשפט ותוציא לאור משפטנו כל יצורי עולמים עד שתחננו
אם כבנים אם כעבדים עינינו לך תלויות
אם כבנים ואם כעבדים
רחמנו כרחם אב על בנים
The top line at both ends represents the awesome day. (Notice – איום and היום the juxtaposition of the very similar words – היום קדוש there are also old versions of the piyut that read We descend and enter into the poem .(שבלי הלקט and המנהיג see with the awareness of the day’s awesome moment, and then the poem itself impresses upon us G-d’s and day’s awesome holiness, and we leave with that impression imprinted upon us.
The second line on both sides is the concept of justice, descending into and standing facing justice, and then emerging with justice.
The third line represents G-d’s free-flowing grace, in creation and in granting us today his goodness.
אם The fourth line presents the tension and uncertainty of on the עינינו לך תלויות on the one hand, and כבנים אם כעבדים אם other (Note also above the second explanation above of as to תלוי we are also – כבנים אם כעבדים, עינינו לך תלויות .(עבד or an בן whether a
The fifth line is the juxtaposition of sons and slaves, a central theme of the entire poem.
And finally, the sixth line fills with the central role of G- d’s mercy.
6. An alternative configuration of the middle section into a precise mirror image is:
אם כעבדים ואם כעבדים
אם כבנים אב על בנים
רחמנו כרחם
Using this arrangement for the middle requires us to arrange the rest of the piyut differently, potentially as follows:
קדוש
היום היום
הרת עולם ותוציא לאור משפטנו
היום יעמיד במשפט עד שתחננו
כל יצורי עולמים תלויות
אם כבנים עינינו לך
-from this arrangement because it’s the lead קדוש I excluded out from the piyut and also because it refers to G-d in this reading (“and bring to favorable light our judgement today, Holy G-d”), and I utilized early versions of the piyut where see for example) איום is referenced at the end instead of היום The middle portions on either side are not mirror .(שבלי הלקט images now, but complement each other with respect to meaning.
At the :עינינו לך תלויות, ותוציא לאור משפטנו ,Lastly .7 creation is ,יצירת עולם time of creation, just prior to and G-d exists alone, and ,(תולה ארץ על בלימה) hanging This parallels “our eyes are .אור then G-d brings forth our אור to You, until You bring forth like תולה judgement…” (I admit this one is a stretch!) So many ideas and layers of meaning, and so much beauty – all in only 32 words!
The Fish Motif on Early Hebrew Title-Pages and as Pressmarks
The Fish Motif on Early Hebrew Title-Pages and as Pressmarks
by Marvin J. Heller
Fish are a symbol replete with meaning, among them, in Judaism, representing fertility and good luck, albeit that fish are not an image that, for most, quickly comes to mind when considering Jewish iconography. Created on the fifth day of creation, fish symbolize fruitfulness, and, as Dr. Joseph Lowin informs, the month of Adar on the Hebrew calendar (February-March, Pisces) is considered “a lucky month for the Jews (mazal dagim).” He adds that in Eastern Europe people named sons Fishl as a symbol of luck, and that in the Bible, the father of Joshua is named fish, that is, Nun, which is fish in Aramaic.[1] Similarly, Ellen Frankel and Betsy Platkin Teutsch note the allusion to fertility and blessing, the former that when Jacob blesses Ephraim and Manasseh, Joseph’s sons, he says “May they multiply abundantlyve-yidgu , like fish) in the midst of the earth” (Genesis 48:16) and the latter to the Leviathan, the great sea monster the Jews will feast upon in the messianic age.[2]
Other biblical references to fish include Dagon, the fish-god of the Philistines, also worshipped elsewhere in the Middle East, mentioned several times in the Bible (Joshua15:41, 19:27; Judges 16:23; I Samuel 5:2–7; and I Chronicles 10:10). A fish also appears in the biblical story of Jonah, a large fish (dag gadol), not the popular whale that swallowed the prophet.
Not only Jewish sources and printers used devices that were fish related. The Medjed fish, a species of elephant fish, a medium-sized freshwater fish with a long downturned snout, abundant in the Nile, was worshipped at Oxyrhynchus in ancient Egypt and appears in Egyptian art. Fish are a not infrequent image on medieval coat of arms. Indeed, there are as many as 181 shields of salmon alone in heraldry.[3] The most well-known printer device with a fish is the anchor and dolphin of Aldus Manutius (1449-1515), albeit not strictly speaking a fish, as a dolphin is actually an aquatic marine mammal. Among the most novel of the marine pressmarks is that of the Liege printer J. M. Hovii, active during the latter half of the seventeenth century, whose mark consisted of a mermaid enwrapped about a tree with a skull at the foot of the tree.[4]
This article is the most recent in a series describing printer’s devices and motifs appearing on the title-pages and with the colophons of early Hebrew printed books.[5] The use of the fish images described here are varied, comprised of pressmarks and full page frames which include representations of marine life. The discussion of the images and the presses are for the sixteenth into the eighteenth century. Although a number and variety of presses that that utilized marks with fish are addressed in this article they are examples only and not necessarily complete. Furthermore, the entries are expansive, that is, printers’ marks are not described in isolation but with discussions of the presses that employed them and examples of the books on which they appeared. Entries are in chronological.[6]
As noted above, the month of Adar is, if not exactly, coterminous with the astrological sign of Pisces. That sign is represented by a pair of fish swimming in opposite directions, as fish swimming against the stream represents the powerful Pisces potential. They can be ‘sharks’ – charismatic, strong leaders with vision and clarity about leadership that can guide an entire nation, like Moses, who was also a Pisces. But those Pisces who prefer to go with the flow can be weak people who get carried away easily and are prone to addictive patterns of behavior.
Pisces is known for the holiday of Purim. According to the sages, it will be the only holiday to continue to be celebrated throughout the world after the Messiah comes. “When Adar begins, joy enters,” as the famous Hebraic phrase goes. It is a month of happiness, miracles and wonders. It affords us the ability to achieve mind over matter, to overcome our doubts, and connect to the Light.[7]
Another compatible view of Adar and fish states that “The astral sign of Adar is the fish (Pisces). Fish are very fertile, and for that reason are seen as a sign of blessing and fruitfulness. The Hebrew word for blessing is bracha, from the root letters bet, reish, kaff. In Jewish numerology (gematria), the letterbet has a value of 2, reish is 200 and kaff is 20. Each of these is the first plural in their number unit. What this tells us is that the Jewish concept of ‘blessing’is intertwined with fertility, represented by the fish of Adar.”[8]
Our first example of a pressmark with a fish is the most unusual in the article, the only device in which the fish is not only completely inconsistent with the above description but is the least prominent representation of a fish of all the pressmarks in the article. Among the earliest printers to make utilize of the fish in a pressmark is Joseph ben Jacob Shalit in Sabbioneta. Although the Sabbioneta press is commonly associated with Tobias ben Eliezer Foa, it was Shalit who appears to initially have been the motivating force behind the press and, with other partners, the provider of necessary financial support. Tobias Foa is credited with providing only the physical quarters, Duke Vespasian Gonzaga’s patronage, and limited financial assistance. Also associated with the press were Cornelius Adelkind, Vincenzo Conti, and R. Joshua Boaz Baruch, all prominent names in mid-sixteenth century Hebrew printing in Italy.
The first title printed at the press was Don Isaac ben Judah Abrabanel’s (1437-1508) Mirkevet ha‑Mishneh (1551), a commentary on Deuteronomy. Abrabanel began work on Mirkevet ha‑Mishneh when still in Lisbon, unlike the remainder of his commentary on the Torah which was written much later. Its completion was postponed, however, due to his responsibilities at the Portuguese court. The incomplete manuscript of Mirkevet ha-Mishneh was lost when Abrabanel was forced to flee Portugal in 1483. However, on his later peregrinations after the expulsion of the Jews from Spain Abrabanel came to the island of Corfu in 1493, where he serendipitously (miraculously) found a copy of the manuscript. Leaving aside other work he turned to completing this commentary, but after the departure of French troops from Naples, Abrabanel went to Monopoli (Apulia), where Mirkevet ha-Mishneh was finally completed in the first part of 1496.
The title page, dated 5311 Rosh Hodesh Sivan (Wednesday, May 16, 1551) is comprised of an architectural border with standing representations of the mythological Mars and Minerva. This border was first employed by Francesco Minizio Calvo in Rome in 1523 and as late as 1540 in Milan. This is its earliest appearance in a Hebrew book. It would be often reused and copied, appearing on the title pages of books printed as far apart as Salonika and Cracow.[9]
On the final unfoliated leaf are two devices, on the right that of Foa, a palm tree with a lion rampant on each side and affixed to the tree a Magen David, about it the verse, “The righteous flourish like the palm tree” (Psalms 92:13), all for פ and ט within a circle, and to the sides the letters Tobias Foa. On the left is Shalit’s device, a peacock standing on three rocks, facing left, with a fish in its beak within a cartouche, although Avraham Yaari, after describing the peacock with a fish, adds, in parenthesis, (or a worm?). The about this device stand for Joseph ben Jacob יביש letters Shalit. Also printed by the press that year was R. Isaac ben Moses Arama’s (c. 1420–1494) Ḥazut Kashah, on the relationship of philosophy and religion. It too has the Mars and Minerva title-page, but here the last leaf is foliated and has one pressmark only, the peacock with fish of Shalit.[10] Parenthetically, Arama too was a refugee from Spain.
Fig. 1 pressmarks of Joseph Shalit (left) and Tobias Foa (right)
The peacock with fish pressmark was reused by Shalit in Mantua at the press of Venturin Rufinelli with the colophon of several works, for example the late 10th century ethical work based on animal tales, translated from the encyclopedic Arabic Rasa`il ikhwan as-safa` wa khillan al-wafa` (Epistles of the Brethren of Purity and Loyal Friends) into Hebrew by Kalonymus ben Kalonymus (c. 1286-c. 1328) as Iggeret Ba’alei Hayyim (1557). The original is comprised of 52 eclectic volumes (pamphlets) on philosophy, religion, mathematics, logic, and music. The portion from whichIggeret Ba’alei Hayyim is taken appears at the end of the 25th book. The original was prepared by the Brethren of Purity, a secret Arab confraternity which flourished in Basra, Iraq in the second half of the tenth century. The tales themselves have an Indian origin. Four other varied works of note with the peacock with fish pressmark are R. Saadiah ben Joseph Gaon’s (882-942) Sefer ha-Tehiyyah ve-Sefer ha-Pedut(1556) on resurrection; R. Abraham ben Samuel ha-Levi ibn Hasdai’s (13th century) Ben ha-Melekh ve-ha-Nazir (1557), also based on an Indian romance and here derived from the Arabic; Berechiah ben Natronai ha-Nakdan’s (12th-13th century)Mishlei Shu’alim (1557-58) popular collection of fables, and a Haggadah with the Mars and Minerva title-page (1568).
The Shalit pressmark also appears on the title-page of several books printed in Venice at the press of Giovanni di Gara, without mention of Shalit, so that Yaari suggests he was not involved with the books but it was used simply as an ornament. Among the titles with this pressmark are R. David Kimhi’s (Radak, c. 1160-c.1235) commentary on Psalms (1566), R. Moses ben Baruch Almosnino’s (c.1515 – c.1580)Me’ammez Ko’ah (1587-88), R. Samuel ben Abraham Laniado’s (d. 1605) Keli Hemdah (1596), each with a biblical verse about the frame, and R. Aaron ibn Hayyim of Fez’s (1545–1632)Lev Aharon (1608), this last without the biblical verses about the cartouche. The Shalit pressmark appears in various places in the books, after the introduction, by the colophon, least often on the title-page. Yaari notes that the Shalit device was also employed by Georgi di Cavilli in an Ashkenaz rite Mahzor (1568).[11]
Leaving Italy, for now, and Shalit, we turn to Cracow where Isaac ben Aaron Prostitz, who together with his sons after him, printed Hebrew books for fifty years, beginning in 1569. In 1578, Prostitz printed at least three large format attractive tractates from the Talmud, Avodah Zarah, Ketubbot, and Rosh Ha-Shanah, the last extant in a ten folio unicum fragment in the library of the Jewish Theological Seminary. Moritz Steinschneider writes that Avodah Zarah was printed “si revera Supplementi tantum instar ad ed. Basil,” and “seu castrata . . .Cracoviae vero supplementi instar excusus,” that is, to compensate for its omission of the entire tractate from the much censored Basle Talmud.[12] Another feature of this tractate is that it is the first employ by Prostitz of the shield with two fish facing in opposite directions, the upper facing left, the lower facing right, above a printer’s inker, as his device.
Prostitz’s apparent next use of this device, this the first noted in bibliographic sources, is a Mahzor (1584) printed with the support of four partners, and reused frequently afterwards on such varied titles as Josippon (1589) at the end of the book, Avot with the commentary Derekh Hayyim by R. Judah Loew ben Bezalel (Maharal of Prague, c. 1525-16) after the introduction (1589), R. Moses ben Jacob Cordovero’s (Ramak, 1522-1570) Pardes Rimmonim (1591), between the books introductions, R. Bahya ben Joseph ibn Paquda’s (late 11th century) Hovot ha-Levavot, after the translator’s preface (1593) and R. Naphtali Hirsch ben Asher Altschuler’s (16th-17th cent.) Ayyalah Sheluha c. 1595. Pardes Rimmonim was actually printed in Cracow/Nowy Dwor, the change in location due to a serious outbreak of plague in Cracow, Prostitz and his family forced to flee to Nowy Dwor with the press’ typographical equipment. Pardes Rimmonim was completed in that location, the only Hebrew book printed in that Nowy Dwor.[13] Fig. 2 Pressmark of Isaac Prostitz
Yaari questions Prostitz’s use of this pressmark. While the employ of the printer’s tool is clear, that is not the case for the fish. He suggests that it might be a propitious sign for the partners in the printing of the Mahzor in 1584, which Prostitz continued to use afterwards. This is unlikely, however, for, as we have noted, this device had been employed previously in 1578 on tractateAvodah Zarah. Another possibility is that the fish alludes to the month (Adar) in which Proztitz was born, but he then inquires why the pressmark was not used previously on all the books printed by the press. Yaari notes Steinschneider’s suggestion that the fish represented Prostitz’s entreaty for children, as his sons were borne at an old age. Here to, however, he observes that Prostitz’s four sons were born earlier, being mentioned in the colophon to Toledot Yitzhak in 1593. Another suggestion is that the fish allude to the name of R. Naphtali Hirsch ben Asher Altschuler who was known by all as Hirschmokhir seforim (bookseller) in Lublin and for whom Prostitz printed books, for example Hovot ha-Levavot, the fish alluding to the name Naphtali, for the portion of the tribe Naphtali included the Kinneret Sea, in which fish were plentiful, but Yaari concludes this is only speculative.[14] I would question why, even if this is true for R. Altschuler, what does this have to do with Prostitiz and why he should have adopted this fish image for his pressmark?
A short lived press existed in Thannhausen, Bavaria, near Augsburg, a zoltot (supplementary festival prayers for the period between Passover and Shavu’ot) and a Mahzor (c. 1594) for the entire year according to the Ashkenaz rite were printed in the last decade of the sixteenth century. The press was a furtive effort to print Hebrew books by R. Isaac Mazia, whose name, it has been suggested, is an abbreviation for mi- zera Yehudim anusim, that is, he was of Marrano origin, or that he had served as rabbi in several communities in southern Germany, together with R. Simeon ben Judah ha-Levi of Guenzburg (Simon zur Gemze) of Frankfurt, who arranged with the Munich printer Adam Berg, to issue those works. When printing the mahzor the printers, concerned about the Christian response to sensitive passages and accusations of blasphemy, left blanks to be filled in by the purchasers.
After an examination of the still incomplete mahzorim by the censor at the University of Ingolstadt the press run of 1,500 copies was destroyed; only five copies are known to be extant today. In August, 1597, Mazia was fined 200 florin and released, while Berg, as late as 1604, was still attempting to have his impounded press returned. All of this occurred despite the fact that the authorities concurred that the mahzorim had been approved for publication by the imperial authorities in Prague. Nevertheless, the printers had neither received nor sought permission from the local authorities in Burgau to print. Moreover, as the books were for export they gave the impression that printing was done with the permission of those authorities. Fig. 3b Zoltot
Fig. 3a Zoltot Extract
Both titles have a like frame comprised of an ornamental border with three entwined fish at the top (the signet of Mazia), at the sides are armed men in armor each with a shield, the right shield engraved with the name R. [Isaac] Mazia, the left with the name R. Simeon Levi. At the bottom is a laver pouring water on two hands, representative of the [Simeon] Levi. Isaac Yudlov informs that the fish here represent Isaac Mazia; this appearance of three fish as a printer’s mark is apparently unique. [15]
Not long afterwards we find the fish image employed in Lublin at the press of Zevi bar Abraham Kalonymous Jaffe. Lublin has a long and proud history as a Hebrew printing center, beginning with the press established by the family of Hayyim Shahor (Schwarz), that is, his son Isaac and his son-in-law Joseph ben Yakar. This press, through descendants and collateral members, would be active for almost a hundred and fifty years. The presses’ began publishing in 1551, with a folio Polish rite mahzor for the entire year, continuing until 1646 when a fire forced the press to close; printing resumed in 1648 when tah-ve-tat (gezerot Polania, the Chmielnicki massacres of 1648-49), broke out. That and the 1655-60 Swedish Muscovy wars, combined with others conflicts besetting the area made it impossible for Jaffe to continue and he had to close the press. Printing did resume when Solomon Zalman Jaffe ben Jacob Kalmankes of Turobin, encouraged and supported by his father, reestablished a Hebrew press. He printed 30 books until 1685 and the entire Jaffe family is credited with as many as 180 Hebrew titles.
Fig. 4 Pressmark of Zevi Jaffe
A device employed by Zevi Jaffe, found on the title page of tractates in the large folio edition of the Babylonian Talmud published from 1617-1639, and after the introduction to R. Joel Sirkes’ (Bah, 1561–1640), Meishiv Nefesh, and possibly other works is a deer with raised forelegs, above a crown atop a shield with two fish, the upper facing left and the lower facing representative of the fact that he was a Levi, often accompanied by two fish, here too indicating that he was born in the month of Adar.
Among the many prominent printers of Hebrew books in Amsterdam is Uri Phoebus ben Aaron Witmund ha-Levi. He had previously worked for Immanuel Benveniste; in 1658, Uri Phoebus established his own print-shop. He would print about one hundred titles, from 1658 to 1689, the period he was active in Amsterdam, generally traditional works for the Jewish community, encompassing Bibles, prayer-books, halakhic works, haggadot, aggadot, and historical treatises (Yosippon). Prostitz’s first pressmark, employed in 1569 on the title-page of R. Naphtali Hertz ben Menahem of Lemberg’sPerush le- Midrash Humash Megillot Rabbah and intermittently afterwards was a stag within a cartouche. Subsequently, Uri Phoebus employed as his device a hand pouring water from a laver, representative of the fact that he was a Levi, often accompanied by two fish, here too indicating that he was born in the month of Adar.
The first usage by Uri Phoebus of this device was in 1660 on the title-page of Ketoret ha-Mizbe’ah, R. Mordecai ben Naphtali Hirsch of Kremsier’s (d. 1670) work on the aggadic portions of tractate Berakhot dealing with the destruction of the Temple and the length of the exile. The title-page of this folio book has an arabesque frame and across the lower half of the page is Uri Phoebus’s fish mark. That device would be frequently used as a decorative ornament in many of the books that Uri Phoebus printed, placed in various locations, after introductions or the colophons. Fig. 5a Ketoret ha-Mizbe’ah
Fig. 5b Ketoret ha-Mizbe’ah Extract
Examples of the fish woodcut appears in other works, but not necessarily on the title-page, for example, in R. Hayyim ben Benjamin Ze’ev Bochner’s Or Hadash (c. 1671-75), on the laws of benedictions in a concise and abridged form, the title page of Or Hadash has an architectural frame headed by an eagle but no fish, that device being but one of several tail-pieces.
In 1662 Uri Phoebus printed an illustrated Haggadah accompanied by the commentary of R. Joseph Shalit ben Jacob Ashkenazi of Padua entitled Nimukei Yosef. The title-page of this quartoHaggadah has an architectural frame with two robed men at the sides, above winged cherubim and between them two fish with the winged head of a cherub. At the bottom are two vignettes; on the left the punishment of Shehem for the rape of Dinah and on the right the tribe of Levi killing the worshipers of the golden calf. In 1667-68, Uri Phoebus printed, also with this title- page, Nahalat Shivah (below and extract to right), R. Samuel ben David Moses ha-Levi’s (c.1625–1681) work on legal documents, particularly relating to divorce and civil matters. Nahalat Shivah has the same title-page as the Haggadah, here dated, “The Messiah ben David is reflecting the referring ”,(משיח בן דוד בא (coming 1667 = 427 to the false messiah Shabbetai Zevi. This title-page and fish crest (below) would be reused by Uri Phoebus for many years and elsewhere besides Amsterdam.
Fig. 6a Nahalat Shivah
Fig.6 Nahalat Shivah Extract
Other title-pages employed by Uri Phoebus, with different architectural frames but with a like laver and fish image include such varied works as R. Jonah ben Isaac Teomim (d. 1669) of Prague’s Kikayon di-Yonah (1669-70), novellae on tractates of the Babylonian Talmud and, attributed to R. David ben Aryeh Leib of Lida (c. 1650-96) Migdal David (1680), both with the Benveniste frame; and R. Isaac Benjamin Wolf ben Eliezer Lipman (d. c. 1698), rabbi of Landsberg, Germany’s Nahalat Binyamin (1682), the first part of a commentary on the taryag [613] mitzvot and R. Shabbetai ben Meir Ha-Kohen’s (Shakh, 1621–1662) Siftei Kohen, a commentary and halakhic novellae on Shulhan Arukh Hoshen Mishpat these with a frame with rectangular shapes, all with the fish and lave at the apex.[16] The title-page of Siftei Kohen, the first part of a commentary on the taryag [613] mitzvot dates the beginning of the work to 21Tammuz , days of the Thursday, July 26, 1663). The = ימי המשיח (Messiah 423 colophon dates completion of the work to Monday, 21 Heshvan, ,November 9 = בימי המשיח (in the days of the Messiah 425 1664, actually a Sunday), both dates (Messiah) a possible allusion to Shabbbtai Zevi.[17]
Among the more elaborate title-pages is that of the first complete translation of the Bible (1676-78) into Yiddish by R. Jekuthiel ben Isaac Blitz, a rabbi from Witmund, Germany and corrector at the press of Uri Phoebus. This edition was the subject of a serious controversy with the Amsterdam printer Joseph Athias, who published an almost simultaneous and related Yiddish edition by Joseph Witzenhausen printed (Amsterdam, 1679-87).
Fig. 7a Bible – Engraved Front-piece Fig. 7b Later Prophets
Figs. 7c, 7d Extracts
The Bible has an engraved front-piece title-page with depictions of Moses and Aaron, Mount Sinai at the top, and in the lower right hand corner a coronet and below it the raised hands of the Kohen giving a benediction. In the lower left hand corner is a fish and laver image, here the two fish are תזל crisscrossed. The engraved title page is incorrectly dated whereas the like title-pages for each of the ,(כטל (439 = 1679 such ,(תלז(biblical divisions are correctly dated 1677 = 437 as Later Prophets, below. The text has a separate but like title-page for Former Prophets, Later Prophets, and Writings. Note that in the otherwise like depictions of the fish and laver the position of the laver and water is reversed.
In 1689, Uri Phoebus ceased printing in Amsterdam, in order to relocate to Poland. Faced with competition from the large number of Hebrew printers in Amsterdam, Uri Phoebus felt that he would be more successful in Poland, located closer to its large Jewish population, a major market for the Hebrew printing-houses of Amsterdam. He established the first Hebrew press in Zolkiew in 1691, bringing his typographical material with him. Uri Phoebus’ descendants continued to operate Hebrew printing-presses in Poland into the twentieth century.
One of, if not the first book printed by Uri Phoebus in Zolkiew is R. Mordecai ben Moses Katz of Prostitz’s Derekh Yam ha-Talmud (1692) a super-commentary on theHiddushei Halakhot of R. Samuel Eliezer ben Judah ha-Levi Edels 0 (Maharsha). The title-page of this small work (4 : 8ff.), much worn, appears to be the Benveniste frame, but at the apex is the same fish image as at the apex of Siftei Kohen. Among the decorative material, after the introduction and after the colophon is Uri Phoebus’ four fish mark, one on each side facing a laver from which water is being poured.
Among the other works published by Uri Phoebus in Zolkiew with the Nahalat Shivah title page reproduced above, is R. Jekuthiel ben Solomon Zalman ha-Levi Suesskind’sDat 0 Yekuthiel (1696,), a concise (8 : 16 ff.) versified enumeration of the taryag mitzvoth (613 commandments). After the approbations to Dat Yekuthiel, there are thirteen, is the press mark comprised of four fish and laver. The title-page informs that the manuscript was found by Jekuthiel’s son Jonah of Kalish in his father’s bag, and arranged and brought to press by his grandson Menahem Feibush.
After the approbations is a letter from Jekuthiel to his son Eliezer. Jekuthiel, who was incarcerated at the time, in which he writes from his dark cell of his painful existence, where he had “wormwood, and gall to drink” (cf. Jeremiah 9:14) until “‘My soul is weary of my life’ (Job 10:1) ‘and my soul became impatient’ (Zechariah 11:8) to die in this way with this ‘light bread’ (Numbers 21:5) that I eat, absorbed in all my limbs, ‘the bread of adversity, and the water of affliction’” (Isaiah 30:20). Jekuthiel continues, describing his hardships, and then writes, “I will pay my vows to the Lord” (Psalms 116:14, 18) and that he took “of that which came to my hand a (new) offering” (cf. Genesis 32:14) on the taryag mitzvot. He thought to write on them in verse, “parallel, one with the other” (Exodus 26:17, 36:22), in single stanzas to the end, in the order of the Torah with references to the Hamishah Homshei Torah in the margins. Jekuthiel tells his son to take this as his blessing, which will be for a remembrance for both of them.
Uri Phoebus passed away in c. 1705.[18] He was succeeded in Zolkiew by his son Hayyim David, who had assisted his father at the press. Unfortunately, Hayyim David died shortly after his father, leaving the print-shop, in turn, to his sons, Aaron and Gershon. Uri Phoebus’ descendants continued to operate Hebrew printing-presses in Poland into the twentieth century. Aaron and Gershon did not use the ornamental material brought by Uri Phoebus to Zolkiew, instead preparing new frames that also reflected that they were Levi’im, and employed on such small format books as R. Raphael Lonzano’s Kinyan Avraham (1723) and R. Meir ben Levi’s Likkutei Shoshanim (1727). This ornate frame continued to be used by their descendants, among them Judah Solomon Yarsh Rappaport in Lvov on aShir ha-Shirim with the commentary Magishi Minhah (1817) in Lvov.[19] Fig. 8a Kinyan Avraham
Fig. 8b Kinyan Avraham Extract
Turning to, Germany, we find two fish, here facing in the same direction, on a title-page with an architectural pillared title-page, and at the bottom a palm tree, about it on the left a crab facing right and on the right two fish, both facing left, the former the sign of Tammuz (Cancer, scorpio), and, as already well noted, the latter the sign of Adar. The two zodiacal emblems may have had a personal significance, but, as Yosef Hayyim Yerushalmi observes describing a slightly later usage “the significance of this combination is difficult to ascertain.[20]
First employed in Fuerth by Joseph ben Solomon Zalman Schneur and his sons from 1691 through 1698, beginning withTorat Kohanim, and other folio volumes, primarily from the Shulhan Arukh, a like frame was subsequently used by Aaron ben Uri Lippman Frankel beginning with aHaggadah , in Sulzbach (below). Aaron was active in Sulzbach from the mid-1690’s until he passed away in 1720 at the age of seventy-five, first utilizing the fish image on a Mahzor printed in 1699 and afterwards in his folio imprints. Among those titles is a Haggadah (1711) with an attractive engraved copperplate front-piece (but without fish) followed by the second architectural pillared title-page described above. The architectural title-page was subsequently reused in Feurth by Hayyim ben Zevi Hirsch, who is credited with printing as many as 164 titles in that location, among the works with this frame and fish mark are several Haggadot (1746, 1752, and 1756).[21]
Fig. 9a Aaron ben Uri Lippman Frankel
Fig. 9b Aaron ben Uri Lippman Frankel Extract The site of yet another press that employed fish on the title- page, here apparently once only, was in Wandsbeck, a borough in north-west Hamburg in Schleswig-Holstein. The first printed books in Wandsbeck are dated to the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, beginning with theAstronomiae instauratae Mechanica of Tycho Brahe (1546-1601), the famous Danish astronomer, published in 1598 by the printer Phillip van Ohr. Hebrew printing in Wandsbeck is a later occurrence, beginning approximately a century after its non-Jewish counterparts. It flourished for a brief period, primarily, albeit not solely, at the press of Israel ben Abraham.[22] The Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book enumerates forty-four titles from 1688 through 1744, several of which, including the titles previous to Israel’s sojourn in Wandsbeck, are listed as doubtful and includes duplicates as well.[23]
Israel ben Abraham was a proselyte who, reputedly, had previously been a Catholic priest. After his conversion Israel eschewed the sobriquets common among converts such as Avinu or the Ger (convert). Israel converted to Judaism in Amsterdam, where he wrote a Yiddish-Hebrew grammar Mafte’ach Leshon ha- Kodesh (Amsterdam, 1713). In 1716, after leaving Amsterdam, Israel ben Abraham acquired the typographical equipment belonging to Moses Benjamin Wulff, the court Jew in Dessau, and printed in Koethen, Jessnitz, and then in Wandsbeck from 1726-33, returning, after a brief retirement, to Jessnitz in 1739, printing a small number of titles to 1744. Fig. 10a Selihot with ma’ariv be-zemanah
Fig. 10b Selihot with ma’ariv be-zemanah Extract
Selihot with ma’ariv be-zemanah (evening prayers in its time) is one of if not the first dated book attributed to Israel ben 0 Abraham in Wandsbeck; it is a small octavo book (8 : 7, 9, [4], 10-13, 13-23, [3] ff.). Its distinct title-page states that it is a Selihot with ma’ariv be-zemanah and that it contains matter pertaining to women; it informs that it was printed “as vowed and accepted upon themselves by the men of thehevra kaddisha (burial society) of the gemilut hasadim (charitable association) of HALBERSTADT,” and that it was “brought to press by the heads, the officers of the hevra kaddisha, R. Wulff and the noble R. Leib Warburg.” The title-page is מחיה מתים אתה (dated in the year “You resuscitate the dead 469 1709 =),” a misdate, as noted by Moritz Steinschneider, who rejects the 1709 date (non admittunt; recusus ergo . . .) and dates it to 1730?[24] At the bottom of the title-page are images of a lion at the left supporting a signet enclosing a pail, at the right a wolf supporting on the right side of the signet, two vertical fish, facing in different directions. The symbolism of these images is not clear, although it might be related to Wulff and Warburg, prominent contemporary family names.
The most dramatic, eye catching title-page with a fish motif was printed in Bad Homburg vor der Höhe at the press of Aaron ben Zevi Hirsch of Dessau. This Homburg is the district town of the Hochtaunuskreis, Hesse, Germany, on the southern slope of the Taunus, bordering, among others, Frankfurt am Main and Oberursel.[25] The title-page appears on successive editions of R. Meir ben Jacob ha-Kohen Schiff’s (Maharam Schiff, 1605-41, var. 1608-44) Hiddushei Halakhot, novellae on tractates of the Talmud, printed in Homburg in 1737, 1741, and 1747. Maharam Schiff, scion of a distinguished rabbinic family, a prodigy, was appointed rabbi of the important city of Fulda at the age of 17, where he was also served as a Rosh Yeshivah. There is a tradition that he was appointed rabbi of Prague in 1641, but if, as his grandson, who brought his works to press, reports, that he lived only 36 years, Maharam Schiff must have passed away immediately after his appointment. Maharam Schiff’s novellae are highly regarded and are reprinted in standard editions of the Talmud.[26]
The title-page has a four part frame, the top image of a fish (sea creature) attacking a ship and within the fish two men, apparently roasting a small fish (?). Below the fish (sea creature) appears to be the face of a man. On the other editions the other portions of the frame are varied. A. M. Habermann, in his work on Hebrew title-pages describes the top portion of the frame as mythological.[27] Fig. 11 1741, Hiddushei Halakhot
Returning to Amsterdam, an edition ofAvot de-Rabbi Nathan with the commentary Ahavat Hesed (1777) by R. Abraham ben Samuel Witmond (1696-1773), also the author of novellae on the Pentateuch and Babylonian Talmud (1734).Avot de-Rabbi Nathan is one of the minor tractates, fourteen (fifteen, depending upon the enumeration) minor non-canonical tractates of the Talmud today appended to Seder Nezikin. It is an ethical work, considered a supplement to or a further development of Avot but with much aggadic material not related to the Mishnah, suggestive of an aggadic midrash. Ahavat Hesed was published posthumously by Witmond’s son-in-law and grandson at the press of Gerard Johann Janson. The header and place of publication on the title-page are printed in an oversized font in red letters. At the bottom of the page is a pressmark Fig. 12a Ahavat Hesed
Fig. 12b Ahavat Hesed Extract
At the bottom of the title-page is a shield with topped by a coronet and within it on the right are two fish facing in opposite directions, above them the sun, moon, and a star, and above them the phrase “and (Samson) said, [O Lord God,] remember me, I pray you, and strengthen me” (Judges 16:28); on the left a hand holding a pail above water, again above the sun, moon, and a star, and above the phrase “And David blessed the Lord” (I Chronicles 29:10). Yaari informs that the two phrases, allude to Witmond’s son-in-law, R. David, son of the late Solomon Bloch, together with the author’s grandson, Samson ben Moses, who brought the book to press. Furthermore, the fish refer to Samson ben Moses, born in the month of Adar, the sign of which is a fish, and the pail refers to his son- in-law David, born in the month of Shevat, that month’s sign being a pail.[28]
The fish image, replete with its symbolism of fertility and good fortune, continued to be used in Jewish imagery and pressmarks. Indeed, shortly after its appearance on Ahavat Hesed it was again employed, if only occasionally, on the title-page of works from another Amsterdam printer, this into the nineteenth century. The usage over centuries depicted here attest to the popularity and power of the fish image, persisting to the present.
[1] Joseph Lowin, “Hebrew Root Word [D-Y-G]” Jewish Heritage on Line Magazine, http://www.jhom.com/topics/fish/lowin.html. [2] Ellen Frankel and Betsy Platkin Teutsch, The Encyclopedia of Jewish Symbols) Northvale, London, 1995), p. 55. [3] https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Salmons_in_her aldry [4] W. Roberts, Printers’ Marks. A Chapter in the History of Typography, (London, 1893), pp. 201-02. [5] Previous articles in this series are “Mirror-image Monograms as Printers’ Devices on the Title Pages of Hebrew Books Printed in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries,” Printing History 40 (Rochester, N. Y., 2000), pp. 2-11, reprinted in Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2008), pp. 33-43; “The Cover Design, ‘The Printer’s Mark of Marc Antonio Giustiniani and the Printing Houses that Utilized It,’”Library Quarterly, 71:3 (Chicago, July, 2001), pp. 383-89, reprinted in Studies, pp. 44-53; “Mars and Minerva on the Hebrew Title Page,” The Papers of the Bibliographical Society of America 98:3 (New York, N. Y., 2004), pp. 269-92, reprinted inStudies , pp. 1-17; “The Bear Motif on Eighteenth Century Hebrew Books” The Papers of the Bibliographical Society of America 102:3 (New York, N. Y., 2008), pp. 341-61, reprinted in Further Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2013), pp. 57-76; “Akedat Yitzhak (the Binding of Isaac) on the Title-Pages of Early Hebrew Books,” in Further Studies, pp. 35-56; “The Eagle Motif on 16th and 17th Century Hebrew Books,” Printing History, NS 17 (Syracuse, 2015), pp. 16-40; “The Lion Motif on Early Hebrew Title-Pages and Pressmarks,” (Printing History, NS 22, (Syracuse, 2015), pp. 53-71. [6] Among the primary sources for this article are myThe Sixteenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus (Brill, Leiden, 2004) and my The Seventeenth Century Hebrew Book: An Abridged Thesaurus. Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2011, and Avraham Yaari, Hebrew Printers’ Marks From the Beginning of Hebrew Printing to the End of the 19th Century, (Jerusalem, 1943), Hebrew with English introduction. [7] Kabbalah Centre, https://livingwisdom.kabbalah.com/pisces-adar. [8] Aish.com, http://www.aish.com/h/pur/b/The_Choice_of_Adar.h tml. [9] Concerning the widespread use of this frame see my “Mars and Minerva on the Hebrew Title Page,” noted above. [10] Yaari, Hebrew Printers’ Marks, pp. 12, 132 no. 19. [11] Yaari, p. 132. [12] Moritz Steinschneider, Catalogus Liborium Hebraeorum in Bibliotheca Bodleiana (Berlin, 1852-60), col. 220 n. 1407, col. 228 n. 1427. [13] Nowy Dwor, Polish for ‘new manor’, is the prefix of several locations with that title. Another Nowy Dwor, Nowy Dwor Mazowiecki, was home to a Hebrew press in the late eighteenth – early nineteenth centuries, printing a significant number of Hebrew titles from 1781 through 1818. [14] Yaari, pp. 26, 139 no. 42. [15] A. M. Haberman, Title Pages of Hebrew Books (Safed, 1969), pp.m 48,129 no. 34; Isaac Yudlov,Hebrew Printers’ Marks: Fifty-Four Emblems and Marks if Hebrew Printers and Authors (Jeruslaem, 2001), pp. 36-40 [Hebrew]. He also informs that three small fish are the mark of the Gronim family of Prague in the sixteenth century, appearing on their headstones. [16] Concerning Lida and Migdal David see my“David ben Aryeh Leib of Lida and his Migdal David: Accusations of Plagiarism in Eighteenth Century Amsterdam,” Shofar 19:2 (West Lafayette, Ind., 2001), pp. 117-28, reprinted in Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book, pp. 191-205. [17] Another work refering to Shabbetai Zevi noted by Ch. B. Friedberg, History of Hebrew Typography of the following Cities in Europe: Amsterdam, Antwerp, Avignon, Basle, Carlsruhe, Cleve, Coethen, Constance, Dessau, Deyhernfurt, Halle, Isny, Jessnitz, Leyden, London, Metz, Strasbourg, Thiengen, Vienna, Zurich. From its beginning in the year 1516 (Antwerp, 1937), p. 29 [Hebrew] published by Uri Phoebus is Tikkun Keria with a depiction of Shabbetai Zevi “sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up” (Isaiah 6:1). [18] Ch. B. Friedberg, History of Hebrew Typography in Poland from the beginning of the year 1534, and its development up to our days . . . Second Edition, Enlarged, improved and revised from the sources (Tel Aviv, 1950), p. 64 [Hebrew] and Yaari, p. 158, date Uri Phoebus death to 1705. L. Fuks and R. G. In contrast, Fuks-Mansfeld, Hebrew Typography in the Northern Netherlands 1585 – 1815, II (Leiden, 1984), p. 242, writes that although Uri Phoebus was very productive in Zolkiew, he returned to Amsterdam in 1705, where, in 1710, he wrote “a short history of the first settlement of the Sephardic Jews in Amsterdam,” and where he died on 23 Shevat 5475 (17 January, 1715). [19] Yaari, p. 158. [20] Yosef Hayyim Yerushalmi, Haggadah and History, A Panorama in Facsimiles of Five Centuries of the Printed Haggadah from the Collections of Harvard University and the Jewish Theological Society of America, (Philadelphia, 1976), plates 64, 65. [21] Yeshayahu Vinograd, Thesaurus of the Hebrew Book. Listing of Books Printed in Hebrew Letters Since the Beginning of Printing circa 1469 through 1863 I (Jerusalem, 1993-95), I, p. 450 [Hebrew]; Yaari, pp. 51, 152-52 no, 82; Yudlov, pp. 59-61 [22] Concerning Hebrew printing in Wandsbeck see Marvin J. Heller, “Israel ben Abraham, his Hebrew Printing-Press in Wandsbeck, and the Books he Published,” Further Studies in the Making of the Early Hebrew Book (Brill, Leiden/Boston, 2013), pp. 169-93. [23] Vinograd, II, pp. 168-69. [24] Steinschneider, cols. 2792-93 no. 7517, 446-47 no. 2939. [25] Concerning Hebrew printing in Homburg see my “Early Hebrew Printing in Bad Homburg vor der Höhe,” in progress. [26] Itzhak Alfassi, “Schiff, Meir ben Jacob Ha- Kohen,” Encyclopaedia Judaica, (Detroit, 2007) vol. 18, p. 131; Mordechai Margalioth, ed. Encyclopedia of Great Men in Israel IV (Tel Aviv, 1986), col. 1028-29 [Hebrew]. [27] A. M. Habermann, Title Pages of Hebrew Books (Tel Aviv, 1969), pp. 104, 134 no. 88 [Hebrew]. [28] Marvin J. Heller, Printing the Talmud: A History of the Printed Editions of the Talmud from the mid-17th Century to the end of the 18th Century and the Presses that published them (Brill: forthcoming); Yaari, Hebrew Printers’ Marks, pp. 89, 169-70 no. 145.
Marc B. Shapiro’s Iggerot Malkhei Rabbanan to be available in Israel
Copies of Marc Shapiro’s recent workIggerot Malkhei Rabbanan mentioned here, are now available for purchase in Israel. To purchase contact [email protected].