Simchas Torah & a Lost Minhag of the Gra

Simchas Torah & a Lost Minhag of the Gra By Eliezer Brodt

Chol HaMoed Succos is the Yarzheit of the Vilna Gaon (for an earlier post on the Gra see here and here). In this post I hope to show a source for a “forgotten” Minhag of the Gra. In 1921 the great bibliographer (and much more) Yitzchak Rivkind described a strange custom he saw during the time he learned in Volozhin (after it was reopened and headed by R’ Rephael Shapiro), in an article about Minhag HaGra. On Simchas Torah they would open the Aron Kodesh when saying Aleinu, both at night and during the day, and while singing the Niggun of Mussaf of Yom Kippur would bow on the floor exactly like we do on Rosh Hashonah and Yom Kippur. When he asked for the source of this Minhag he was told it comes from the Gra. When he visited Vilna sometime later he found the only place that they observed this unique Minhag was in the Kloiz of the Gra, but nowhere else in Vilna.[1]

In 1933 R’ Meir Bar Ilan printed his memoirs in Yiddish for the first time (in book form); in it he describes the great Simcha in Volozhin on Simchas Torah, that of his father the Netziv and of the Talmidim. He then writes that when they got to Aleinu they would open the Aron and with Niggun of Mussaf of Yom Kippur would sing and bow on the floor exactly like we do on Rosh Hashonah and Yom Kippur.[2] However, this custom is not mentioned in the Maaseh Rav or any of the other collections of Minhagim of the Gra.

Earlier this year (2018) R’ Dovid Kamenetsky published a very important manuscript related to the Maaseh Rav. This work sheds light on how this important sefer of the Gra’s Minhaghim was written. The Gra had a very close talmid named R’ Saadyah who wrote up the various things he witnessed the Gra doing. This formed the basis of the Maaseh Rav who then went and added to it from other sources. This original manuscript work was recently discovered and printed by Rabbi Kamenetsky; in it we find that R’ Saadyah writes that on Rosh Hashonah and Yom Kippur the Gra would fully bow (prostrate himself) during Aleinu, and did the same on Simchas Torah at night. Thus we now for the first time have the actual exact source of the Gra doing this.[3] בר”ה וי”כ וש”י כשאומר הש”ץ זכרנו:… כשהגיע לכורעים הי’ כורע ונופל על אפיו בפשיטת ידים ורגלים וכן בשמחת תורה בלילה היו אומרים מזמורים ותפילות …בים ואח”כ היו נופלים על אפיה’ כנ”ל באימ[ה] בעלינו… Here is a copy of the page in the manuscript (thanks to Rabbi Dovid Kamenetsky): A possible explanation for this Minhag is that when things were getting a bit too wild, i.e. too leibedek, they did this to remind the crowd it’s a Yom Tov. This is not the only minhag done like Yomim Noraim, in one account we find “The Musaf was chanted with the music of the New Year’s ritual.”[4] [1] HaIvri, 10:35, (1921), pp. 6-7. See Yaari, Toldot Chag Simchas Torah, p. 366. [2] MeiVolozhin Ad Yerushlayim, 1, p. 115. [3] See TorasS Hagra, p. 212. On this work see Toras Hagra, pp. 127-226. [4] Between Worlds, p. 93

Kol Nidrei, Choirs, and Beethoven: The Eternity of the Jewish Musical Tradition

Kol Nidrei, Choirs, and Beethoven: The Eternity of the Jewish Musical Tradition

On April 23, 1902, the cornerstone to the Taharat Ha- Kodesh synagogue was laid, and on Rosh Ha-Shana the next year,

September 7, 1903, the synagogue was officially opened. The synagogue building was on one of Vilna’s largest boulevards and constructed in a neo-Moorish architectural style, capped with a blue cupola that was visible for blocks. There was a recessed entry with three large arches and two columns. The interior housed an impressive ark, located in a semi-circular apse and covered in a domed canopy. But what really set the synagogue apart from the other 120 or so places to pray in Vilna was that above the ark, on the first floor, were arched openings that served the choir. In fact, it was generally referred to by that feature and was known as the Choral Synagogue. The congregants were orthodox, most could be transported to any modern Orthodox synagogue and they would indistinguishable, in look – dressing in contemporary styles, many were of the professional class, middle to upper middle class, and they considered themselves maskilim, or what we might call Modern Orthodox.[1]

The incorporation of the choir should be without controversy. Indeed, the Chief Rabbi of Vilna, Yitzhak Rubenstein would alternate giving his sermon between the Great Synagogue, or the Stut Shul [City Synagogue], and the Choral Synagogue.[2] Judaism can trace a long relationship to music and specifically the appreciation, and recognition of the unique contribution it brings to worship. Some identify biblical antecedents, such as Yuval, although he was not specifically Jewish. Of course, David and Solomon are the early Jews most associated with music. David used music for religious and secular purposes – he used to have his lyre play to wake him at midnight, the first recorded instance of an alarm clock. Singing and music was an integral part of the temple service, and the main one for the Levite class who sang collectively, in a choir. With the destruction of the temple, choirs, and music, in general, was separated from Judaism. After that cataclysmic event, we have little evidence of choirs and even music. Indeed, some argued that there was an absolute ban on music extending so far as to prohibit singing.

It would not be until the early modern period in the 16th century that choirs and music began to play a central role in Jewish ritual, and even then, it was limited – and was associated with modernity or those who practiced a more modern form of the religion. Rabbi Leon (Yehudah Aryeh) Modena (1571-1648) was one of the most colorful figures in the Jewish Renaissance. Born in Venice, he traveled extensively among the various cities in the region.[3] He authored over 15 books, and made his living teaching and preaching in synagogues, schools, and private homes; composing poems on commission for various noblemen; and as an assistant printer. In 1605, he was living in Ferrara where an incident occurred in the synagogue that kickstarted the collective reengagement with music. Modena explained that “we have six or eight knowledgeable men, who know something about the science of song, i.e. “[polyphonic] music,” men of our congregation (may their Rock keep and save them), who on holidays and festivals raise their voices in the synagogue and joyfully sing songs, praises, hymns and melodies such as Ein Keloheinu, Aleinu Leshabeah, Yigdal, Adon Olam etc. to the glory of the Lord in an orderly relationship of the voices according to this science [polyphonic music]. … Now a man stood up to drive them out with the utterance of his lips, answering [those who enjoyed the music], saying that it is not proper to do this, for rejoicing is forbidden, and song is forbidden, and hymns set to artful music have been forbidden since the Temple was destroyed.[4] Modena was not cowed by this challenge and wrote a lengthy resposum to defend the practice which he sent to the Venetian rabbinate and received their approbation. But that did not put the matter to rest. In 1610, as he approached forty, Modena received his ordination from the Venetian rabbis and settled in Venice to serve not only as a rabbi but as a cantor, with his pleasant tenor voice. In around 1628 in the Venetian ghetto, an academy of music was organized with Modena serving as the

Maestro di Caeppella . Both in name and motto that academy embraced its subversive nature. It was called the Academia degli Impediti, the Academy of the Hampered, named in derision of the traditional Jewish reluctance to perform music because of “the unhappy state of captivity which hampers every act of competence.” In this spirit, especially in light of Modena’s responsum on music in 1605, the Accademia took the Latin motto Cum Recordaremur Sion, and in Hebrew, Bezokhrenu et Tzion, when we remembered Zion, based paradoxically on Psalm 137, one of the texts invoked against Jewish music: “We hung up our harps…. How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?” On Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah in October 1628, a spectacular musical performance was held in the Spanish synagogue, which had been decorated with silver and jewels. Two choirs from the academy sang artistic Hebrew renderings of the afternoon service, the evening service, and some Psalms. Their extensive repertoire lasted a few hours. A throng of Christian noblemen and ladies attended the Simchat Torah service. The applause was great, and police had to guard the gates to ensure order Beyond his musical endeavors, Modena also served as an expert in Hebrew publishing. The two would create a confluence that enabled the first modern Jewish book of music. For Rabbi Leon Modena, his young friend, the musician Salamone Rossi, would herald the Jewish re-awakening. We know very little about Rossi’s life. He was born circa 1570 and died sometime after 1628, possibly in 1630. He is listed as a violinist and composer on the payroll of the Gonzaga dukes, rulers of Mantua, and was associated with a Jewish theater company, as composer or performer or both. In addition, Rossi was also writing motets – short pieces of sacred music typically polyphonic and unaccompanied – for the synagogue using contemporary Italian and church styles. He was specifically encouraged in this endeavor by Modena, who urged the composer to have this music published so that it could have an even greater impact.[5] In 1622 the publishing house of Bragadini in Venice issued thirty-three of Rossi’s synagogue motets in a collection, Shirim asher le-Shlomo, that Modena edited. This extraordinary publication represented a huge innovation. First, the use of musical notations that required a particularly thorny issue to be resolved right versus left. Rossi decided to keep the traditional musical notational scheme and provide those from left to right and write the Hebrew backward, because the latter would be more familiar to the reader. Second, it was the first time the Hebrew synagogue liturgy had ever been set as polyphonic choral music. Polyphony in the Christian church had begun centuries earlier. Rossi’s compositions sound virtually indistinguishable from a church motet, except for one thing: the language is Hebrew – the lyrics are from the liturgy of the synagogue, where this music was performed. There was bound to be a conflict between the modern Jews who had been influenced by the Italian Renaissance and who supported this innovation, and those with a more conservative theology and praxis. But the antagonism towards music, especially non-traditional music, remained strong. Anticipating objections over Rossi’s musical innovations, and perhaps reflecting discussions that were already going on in Venice or Mantua, Modena wrote a lengthy preface included the responsum he wrote in 1605 in Ferrara in support of music in which he refuted the arguments against polyphony in the synagogue. “Shall the prayers and praises of our musicians become objects of scorn among the nations? Shall they say that we are no longer masters of the art of music and that we cry out to the God of our fathers like dogs and ravens?”3 Modena acknowledged the degraded state of synagogue music in his own time but indicates that it was not always so. “For wise men in all fields of learning flourished in Israel in former times. All noble sciences sprang from them; therefore, the nations honored them and held them in high esteem so that they soared as if on eagles’ wings. Music was not lacking among these sciences; they possessed it in all its perfection and others learned it from them. … However, when it became their lot to dwell among strangers and to wander to distant lands where they were dispersed among alien peoples, these vicissitudes caused them to forget all their knowledge and to be devoid of all wisdom.” In the same essay, he quotes Emanuel of Rome, a Jewish poet from the early fourteenth century, who wrote, “What does the science of music say to the Christians? ‘Indeed, I was stolen out of the land of the Hebrews.’” Using the words of

Joseph from the book of Genesis, Modena was hinting that the rituals and the music of the Catholic church had been derived from those of ancient Israel, an assertion that has been echoed by many scholars. Although it can be argued that Modena indulges in hyperbole, both ancient and modern with some attributing the earliest ritual music to Obadiah the convert who noted a Jewish prayer that was only then appropriated for use in Gregorian chants.[6] Directly addressing the naysayers, Modena wrote that “to remove all criticism from misguided hearts, should there be among our exiles some over-pious soul (of the kind who reject everything new and seek to forbid all knowledge which they cannot share) who may declare this [style of sacred music] forbidden because of things he has learned without understanding, … and to silence one who made confused statements about the same matter. He immediately cites the liturgical exception to the ban on music. Who does not know that all authorities agree that all forms of singing are completely permissible in connection with the observance of the ritual commandments? … I do not see how anyone with a brain in his skull could cast any doubt on the propriety of praising God in song in the synagogue on special Sabbaths and on festivals. … The cantor is urged to intone his prayers in a pleasant voice. If he were able to make his one voice sound like ten singers, would this not be desirable? … and if it happens that they harmonize well with him, should this be considered a sin? … Are these individuals on whom the Lord has bestowed the talent to master the technique of music to be condemned if they use it for His glory? For if they are, then cantors should bray like asses and refrain from singing sweetly lest we invoke the prohibition against vocal music. No less of an authority than the Shulhan Arukh, explains that “when a cantor who stretches out the prayers to show off his pleasant voice, if his motivation is to praise God with a beautiful melody, then let him be blessed, and let him chant with dignity and awe.” And that was Rossi’s exact motivation to “composed these songs not for my own honor but for the honor of my Father in heaven who created this soul within me. For this, I will give thanks to Him evermore.” The main thrust of Modena’s preface was to silence the criticisms of the “self-proclaimed or pseudo pious ones” and “misguided hearts.” Modena’s absurdist argument – should we permit the hazzan to bray like an ass – is exactly what a 19th-century rabbi, Rabbi Yosef Zechariah Stern, who was generally opposed to the Haskalah – and some of the very people who started the Choral Synagogue, espoused. Stern argues that synagogal singing is not merely prohibited but is a cardinal sin. To Stern, such religious singing is only the practice of non-Jews who בית] strive to glorify their worship in their meeting house“ so that it be with awe, and without other [הכנסת שלהם intermediaries that lead to distraction and sometimes even to lightheadedness. In the case of Jews, however, there is certainly be a desecration of G-d’s Name when we make the holy temple a place of partying and frivolity and a meeting house for men and women … in prayer. there is no place for melodies כובד] only the uttering of the liturgy with gravity ,[נגונים] to do otherwise is the way of arrogance, as one who … [ראש casts off the yoke, where the opposite is required: submission, awe and gravity, and added to this because of the public desecration of G-d’s Name – ahillul ha-Shem be- rabbim.” (For more on this responsum see here.) Similarly, even modern rabbis, for example, R. Eliezer Waldenberg, who died in 2006, also rejected Modena’s position, because of modernity. Although in this instance, not because of the novelty or the substance of Modena’s decision but because of the author’s lifestyle. Modena took a modern approach to Jewish life and was guilty of such sins as not wearing a yarmulke in public and permitting ball playing on Shabbos. Despite these opinions, for many Orthodox Jews, with some of the Yeshivish or Haredi communities as outliers, song is well entrenched in the services, no more so than on the Yomim Noraim. Nor is Modena an outlier rabbinic opinion of the value of music and divine service. No less of an authority than the Vilna Gaon is quoted as highly praising music and that it plays a more fundamental role to Judaism that extends well beyond prayer. Before we turn to the latter point it is worth noting that at times Jewish music was appropriated by non-Jews – among the most important composers, Beethoven. One the holiest prayer of Yom Kippur, Kol Nedri, is most well-known not for the text (which itself poses many issues) but the near-universal tune. That tune, although not as repetitive in the prayer can be heard in the sixth movement of Beethoven’s Quartet in C# minor, opus 131 (you can hear a version here). One theory is in 1824, the Jews in Vienna were finally permitted to build their own synagogue and for the consecration asked Vienna’s most famous composer to write a piece of music.[7] Although Beethoven did not take the commission, he may have done some research on Jewish music and learned of this tune. We could ask now, is Beethoven playing a Jewish music?[8] R. Yisrael M’Sklov, a student of the Gaon records that he urged the study of certain secular subjects as necessary for the proper Torah study, algebra and few other, but “music he praised more than the rest. He said that most of the fundamentals and secrets of the torah … the Tikkunei Zohar are impossible to understand without music, it is so powerful it can resurrect the dead with its properties. Many of these melodies and their corresponding secrets were among the items that Moshe brought when he ascended to Sinai.”[9] In this, the Gaon was aligned with many Hassidim who regularly incorporated music into their rituals, no matter where the origin. Just one of many examples, Habad uses the tune to the French national anthem for the prayer Aderet ve- Emunah. The power of music overrides any considerations of origin. Indeed, they hold that not only can music affect us, but we can affect the music itself, we hold the power to transform what was impure, the source and make it pure. That is not simply a cute excuse, but the essence of what Hassidim view the purpose of Judaism, making holy the world. Music is no longer a method of attaining holiness, singing is itself holiness.[10] Today in Vilna, of the over 140 places of worship before the Holocaust five shul buildings remain and only one shul is still in operation. That shul is the Choral Synagogue – the musical shul. Nonetheless not all as it should be. In the 1960s a rabbi from Israel was selected as the rabbi for the community and the shul. When he arrived, he insisted that choirs have no place in Judaism and ordered the choir arches sealed up. We, however, have the opportunity, as individuals and community to use the power of music to assist us on the High Holidays – that can be me-hayeh ma’tim.

[1] See Cohen-Mushlin, Synagogues in Lithuania N-Z, 253-61. For more on the founding of the congregation see Mordechai Zalkin, “Kavu le-Shalom ve-ain: Perek be-Toldot ha-Kneset ha- Maskili ‘Taharat ha-Kodesh be-Vilna,” inYashan mi-Pnei Hadash: Mehkarim be-Toldot Yehudei Mizrah Eiropah u-ve- Tarbutam: Shai le-Imanuel Etkes, eds. David Asaf and Ada Rapoport-Albert (Jerusalem: Merkaz Zalman Shazar, 2009) 385-403. The images are taken from Cohen-Mushlin. [2] Hirsz Abramowicz, Profiles of a Lost World (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1999), 293. [3] Regarding Modena see his autobiography, translated into English, The Autobiography of a Seventeenth Century Rabbi, ed. Mark Cohen (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988); and the collection of articles in The Lion Shall Roar: Leon Modena and his World, ed. David Malkiel,Italia , Conference Supplement Series, 1 (Jerusalem: Hebrew University Press, 2003). [4] His responsum was reprinted in Yehuda Areyeh Modena, She’a lot u-Teshuvot Ziknei Yehuda, ed. Shlomo Simonsin (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1956), 15-20. [5] See generally Don Harrán, Salamone Rossi: Jewish Musician in Late Renaissance Mantua (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999); Michelene Wandor, “Salamone Rossi, Judaism and the Musical Cannon,” European Judaism 35 (2002): 26-35; Peter Gradenwitz, The Music of Israel: From the Biblical Era to Modern Times 2nd ed. (Portland: Amadeus Press, 1996), 145-58. The innovations of Rossi and Modena ended abruptly in the destruction of the Mantua Ghetto in 1630 and the dispersion of the Jewish community. The music was lost until the late 1800s when Chazzan Weintraub discovered it and began to distribute it once again. [6] See Golb who questions this attribution and argues the reverse and also describes the earlier scholarship on Obadiah. Golb, “The Music of Obadiah the Proselyte and his Conversion,” Journal of Jewish Studies 18: 43-46. [7] Such ceremonies were not confined to Austria. In Italy since the middle of the seventeenth century, special ceremonies for the dedication of synagogues had become commonplace. See Gradenwitz, Music of Israel, 159-60. [8] Jack Gotlieb, Funny, It Doesn’t Sound Jewish, (New York: State University Press of New York, 2004), 17-18; see also Theodore Albrecht, “Beethoven’s Quotation of Kol Nerei in His String Quartet, op. 131: A Circumstantial Case for Sherlock Holmes,” in I Will Sing and Make Music: Jewish Music and Musicians Through the Ages, ed. Leonard Greenspoon (Nebraska: Creighton University Press, 2008), 149-165. For more on the history of the synagogue see Max Grunwald,Vienna (Philadephia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1936), 205-21. [9] R. Yisrael M’Sklov, Pat ha-Shulhan (Sefat, 1836). [10] See Mordechai Avraham Katz, “Be-Inyan Shirat Negunim ha- Moshrim etsel ha-Goyim,” Minhat ha-Kayits, 73-74. However, some have refused to believe that any “tzadik” ever used such tunes. Idem. 73. See also our earlier article discussing the use of non-Jewish tunes Hatikvah,“ Shir HaMa’a lot, & Censorship.”

New Book Announcement: Ginzei Chag HaSuccos

New Book Announcement: Ginzei Chag HaSuccos By Eliezer Brodt גנזי חג הסוכות | אסופת גנזים מתורתם של ראשונים בענייני חג הסוכות היוצאים לאור לראשונה מכתבי-יד עם מבואות, ביאורים והערות, עיונים ומפתחות, מהדיר: ר’ יעקב ישראל סטל, שע עמודים A new work by Rabbi Yakov Stahl was just printed. Rabbi Stahl’s work is familiar to many of the readers of the blog; for reviews of some of his earlier works see here, here and here. This volume is very similar in style to Kovetz Al Yad; it’s a collection of material by Rishonim all related to Succos, the majority of which is printed here for the first time. Various literary genres are represented in this collection: Halacha, Minhag, Piyut, Philosophy and Kabbalah. Each section includes an introduction of its significance and the texts are fully annotated. There is also a twenty-five-page index to the work. What follows is a short description of some of the chapters, and the Table of Contents. Copies should be arriving in the US for sale right away. Additionally, one can purchase copies from me, while supplies last. For more information or for sample pages (and/or for a Listing of his publications) contact me at [email protected] החיבור הראשון בקובץ הוא פירוש לפיוטי קדמוננו על ענייני חג הסוכות מאחד מקדמוני צרפת בן דורם של תלמידי רש”י, במהלכו מרחיב המהדיר ארוכות אודות מנהג שרווח באשכנז ובצרפת לאגוד את הלולב כולו עד ראשו. חיבור נוסף עוסק בטעם מצוות לולב ואיגודו לרבי שלמה הצרפתי בן דורו וחברו של רבי יהודה החסיד, במאמר עשיר זה מרחיב המהדיר רבות בענייני איגוד הלולב. מאמר נוסף מרכז מספר קטעים חשובים מתורת הראשונים, כמו קטע מ’קיצור ספר מרדכי’ לאחר מהראשונים על סוכה ולולב. פרק נוסף עוסק בפסקים בענייני סוכות מרבי אברהם ב”ר משה ב”ר דוד ממונייטו הקשור לבעלי התוספות ולרבינו פרץ בעל הסמ”ק, בין דבריו יסודות חשובים בענייני שליחות במצוות ועוד. פרק נרחב עוסק בחיבור דרשני בשם ‘עמק סוכות’ מאחד הראשונים שעוסק כולו בהלכות חג הסוכות, דבר נדיר בתקופת הראשונים, אשר נכתב כולו בדרך מחשבה ומוסר ולאורכו מבואר כיצד כל ענייני הימים הנוראים וחג הסוכות בונים את קומת האדם בשלמות עד שהוא מגיע לשלמות האמתית בשמיני עצרת והוא שש ושמח על השלמת הבניין ביום שמחת תורה. פרק נוסף מציג את טעמי סוכה וארבעת המינים מ’ביאורים על דרך הנסתר’ לרבי נתן ב”ר אביגדור מחכמי איטליה הקדומים, במבוא לחיבור זה הורחב מעט במנהגי איטליה ובכינוי ‘מורה צדק’ שניתן לרמב”ם ע”י קדמונים רבים. בפרק נוסף מופיע לראשונה פיוט ‘זולת’ הלכתי מרבי יוסף דגף, כנראה מצרפת, במהלך שורותיו ניתן גם ללמוד על כמה חידושי הלכה כמו לימוד הלכות החג בחול המועד, חיוב חתן המחזיר גרושתו בסוכה, ברכת ‘לישב בסוכה’ בליל ראשון בלבד, ריבוי הדסים ועוד ועוד. נספח מיוחד עוסק במנהג פייטנים, דוגמת הקלירי, לייחס עצמם על שם מקומם.

Happy July 4th

From a Hebrew Bible printed by the Vaad Hatzalah, Munich, 1947, for the use of Displaced Persons (DPs), the”Sherith Hepleita,” with a dedication to President Harry S. Truman

Tracing the History of Shavuos Night Learning

Tracing the History of Shavuos Night Learning By Eliezer Brodt This article will trace some of the earliest sources for the Minhag observed by many to stay up learning Torah throughout the entire night of Shavuos.[1] At the outset I would like to note that the focus of this article will be not be about the exact seder that was learned i.e. Tikun Lel Shavuos.[2] Different versions of this article originally appeared in the Kulmos Supplement of Mishpacha in 2014 and then in English in 2015. I returned to all this in my doctorateHalachic Commentaries to the Shulchan Aruch on Orach Chayim from Ashkenaz and Poland in the Seventeenth Century.[3] This post contains important additions to some of the earlier versions. One day I hope to update it properly. That the minhag of staying up on Shavuos night to learn was observed widely in recent history is very clear. For example, the author of a nineteenth-century Lithuanian memoir describes how her brothers would stay up the entire night.[4] In a memoir about Yeshivas Lomza, the author writes in passing “after staying up the whole night, the whole yeshiva would take part in a milchig kiddush at the Rosh Yeshiva’s house”.[5] Chaim Grade writes: “On the First night of Shavuoth, the lamps in the Beth Medrash and the candelabra were still lit well past midnight. The benches were packed with men from the courtyard and from the neighboring streets who, as the custom on this night, came to study until dawn.”[6] Grade’s books are fiction, but his descriptions are based on life in Vilna. A bochur describing Shavous in the Mir to his parents in 1938, writes in passing that the bnei hayeshiva had stayed up the whole night learning.[7] Rav Chaim Stein, Rosh Yeshivah of Telz wrote an incredible World War II diary chronicling his great Mesiras Nefesh for whatever mitzvos he was able to do during that time. He also describes staying up the entire night learning.[8] Earliest sources But what are the earliest sources for this practice? It is not mentioned by either R. Yosef Caro or the Rama inShulchan Aruch’s discussion of the halachos of Shavuos. One of the earliest printed sources for this custom is a work entitled Sefer Ha-Mussar, authored by Rav Yehudah Kalatz and first printed in 1537, which states that there was a custom to stay up throughout both nights of Shavuos to learn various parts of Tanach and Kabbalah.[9] Today we know that the prior written source for this piece is Rav Dovid ben Rav Yehudah Hachassid.[10] This piece is also printed in theMateh Moshe of Rav Moshe Meis (1591) without citing its source.[11] In 1558, the Zohar was printed for the first time, and in it we find that “righteous ones” would learn Torah during the entire night of Shavuos.[12] These words of the Zohar are already quoted in two early and important collections of material culled from the Zohar, theMareh Cohen of Rav Yisachar Katz,[13] first printed in 1588 and in the Yesh Sachir of Rav Yisachar M’Karmintz,[14] first printed in 1609. It is also brought down in important works such as Rav Moshe Makir’s classic Seder HaYom [first printed in 1599],[15] Tikunei Shabbos (1613),[16]Tur Barekes (1650),[17] Heichal Hakodesh (1653)[18] and Sha’arei Tzion (1662).[19] Who followed this minhag in earlier times? From the Zohar it appears that this practice is limited to yechidei segulah, select spiritually exalted individuals. This is also how it appears that some sources that quote this Zohar, such as the Heichal Hakodesh, Magen Avraham,[20] Eliyah Rabba[21] and Me’orei Or,[22] understood it. A number of gedolei Torah themselves wrote of having stayed up learning the whole night of Shavuos. In his Sefer Chizyonos, R’ Chaim Vital writes that he stayed up the whole night of Shavuos learning with the Arizal.[23] The Chida writes in the account of his travels[24] and in his autobiographical cheshbon hanefesh of having done so,[25] as does the Aderes.[26] But other sources seem to have understood that this is a custom to be followed by all. Rav Moshe Makir in hisSeder HaYom writes so clearly, and indeed, in a letter he wrote circa 1610 to Poland, Rav Shlumiel of Tzefas describes how everyone stayed up to learn on Shavuos night in keeping with the Seder HaYom.[27] The Shelah Hakadosh also describes how everyone stayed up learning, as did Rav Moshe Prague in a letter written in 1650 describing the scene in Yerushalayim.[28] Thus, we see that what was originally a minhag only for the very learned evolved in a few decades into a practice observed by the broad masses. One may conjecture that the spread of the minhag occurred due to the fact that some of the seforim that mentioned it were very popular and widely read. The promise of the Arizal Another possible catalyst for the popular adoption of this minhag was the promise of the Arizal that “he who stays up the whole night learning will survive the year and not suffer any harm during the entire year.” This guarantee first appeared in a work called Shulchan Aruch Shel Ha-Arizal printed in 1650,[29] and was later reprinted in numerous widely-read works such as Sha’arei Tzion and Sefer Zechirah.[30] Relatedly, R. Yosef Kapach, discussing the observance of this minhag in Teiman, writes that this night is a special time during which the gates of Heaven are open for the acceptance of tefillos. He cites a legend of a woman who was looking outside a window and she asked for her head to be made bigger. When that occurred, she could not get her head back inside through the window. It thus became necessary to feed her for the duration of the Yom Tov by means of a ladder, and it was only after Yom Tov, when the window could be broken, that she was finally extricated.[30] The Visit of the Magid on Shavous night Yet another reason this minhag may have become so widespread relates to the Maggid, the Heavenly emissary that would regularly visit the Beis Yosef to teach him Torah. The Shelah Hakadosh quotes from a lengthy letter that Rav Shlomo Alkabetz wrote describing the events of one particular Shavuos night in Tzefas.[32] Rav Shlomo Alkabetz writes that he and Rav Yosef Caro along with some others in their circle decided to stay up the whole night of Shavuos learning a specific seder limud from Tanach and Mishnayos. At about midnight, a voice was heard emanating from the throat of Rav Yosef Caro praising them for staying up to learn Torah and advising them that it would be even more praiseworthy if they were to do so with a minyan. And, indeed, the next night, the scene was repeated, this time with a minyan present. This letter was first printed in 1646 in the introduction to the first edition of the Magid Meisharim, which records the teachings that the Magid conveyed through the Beis Yosef. It was then reprinted by the Shelah Hakadosh in 1648[33] and in the very popular and somewhat controversial anonymous work Chemdas Yomim in 1731.[34]These last two sources contributed to widespread knowledge of the story of the Magid of the Beis Yosef, which, in turn, enabled the minhag of learning throughout Shavuos night to become even more popular. Why doesn’t Rav Yosef Caro mention this minhag? In order to consider some possible reasons for the Rav Yosef Caro’s omission of this minhag from both his Shulchan Aruch and his commentary on the Tur, despite the fact that he was personally told by the Magid about the great importance of remaining awake throughout Shavuos night to learn Torah, it is important to first discuss some issues related to the Magid Meisharim. Many Gedolim merited visits from Magidim who taught them secrets of Torah, but the most famous person to have been so visited was Rav Yosef Caro. Magid Meisharim, the work that emerged from those visits, is comprised mostly of Kabbalistic teachings, although there is some Halachic discussion there as well. Was that work intended only for Rav Yosef Caro or for the general Jewish populace as well? When there is a contradiction between this work and the Shulchan Aruch, according to which of these works are we to rule? From the fact that numerous Poskim quote from theMagid Meisharim in their halachic works, it would seem that that at least some of the material was intended for everyone. One famous example concerns eating meat on Rosh Hashanah, which the Magid told Rav Yosef Caro not to do.[35] The Magen Avraham and other poskim bring this down, implying that they felt the halachic material in this work is applicable to the masses.[36] Many other examples this are collected in a series of articles written by Rav Klieres in the Torah journal Tzefunot.[37] However, the Munkatcher Rebbe held that the Magid Meisharim was intended for Rav Yosef Caro alone.[38] A careful examination of the sefer shows that it also contains many hanhagos, practices that are not mandated by Halacha per se, but are recommended for a righteous person to adopt. Some feel that these pieces were meant for the masses, whereas others are of the opinion that these too were meant only for Rav Yosef Caro to follow.[39] Staying up on Shavuos night could be an example of such an hanhaga.[40] There is no halachic obligation to do so, but, as we have seen, it was widely practiced by righteous people, and sometimes the masses adopt such practices. However, Rav Yaakov Emden brings from his father, the Chacham Tzvi, that the Magid Meisharim did not influence his halachic rulings in any way.[41] In his siddur, Rav Yaakov Emden writes that it is well-known that the Beis Yosef and Rav Shlomo Alkabetz stayed up Shavuos night and were visited by the voice of the Magid, but that this does not obligate the masses to follow suit.[42] Based on the above, it becomes understandable why R. Yosef Caro did not cite the custom to stay up on Shavuos night in his halachic works despite knowing very well its importance from his Shavuos night experience with the Magid. As important a practice as it is, in his opinion it was not intended for the broader community. The principle of Lo BaShamayim Hi and the Magid In truth, there may well be more to the story of why Rav Yosef Caro did not bring this custom down in his halachic works. The Gemarah in Bava Metzia (59b) sets forth is the principle of “Lo BaShamayim Hi“, meaning that the halachic process is not influenced by other-worldly revelations such as a Heavenly voice telling us what to do, or the like.[43] Rav Akiva Yosef Schlesinger uses this axiom to explain why we do not find Rav Yosef Caro bringing anything he learned from the Magid in his Beis Yosef or Shulchan Aruch.[44] This general approach is found by numerous Achronim to dismiss material found in such ‘heavenly’ works to reach halachic conclusions. To list some: R. Alexander Moshe Lapidus,[45] R. Aron Mi-Pinsk,[46] R’ Yitzchack Issac Chaver,[47] and R. Yaakov Emden.[48] However, the question remains as to why the principleLo BaShamayim Hi did not prevent various poskim from citing works like that of the Magid in halachic discussions. For example, numerous poskim quote rulings from the Sh’ailos v’Teshuvos Min Hashamayim, in which a rishon collected the responses he received from Heaven in his dreams to questions he had posed before going to sleep.[49] One possible explanation as to why some poskim cite these works is based on an idea found in the work Seder Mishnah by Rav Zev Wolf Boskovitz.[50] Rav Boskovitz writes that one can rely on such works when their conclusions are not contradicted by anything in Shas. Other achronim, however, hold that the principle ofLo BaShamayim Hi is applicable under all circumstances and thus, we are not to rely on works likeMagid the Meisharim and Sh’ailos v’Teshuvos Min Hashamayim for practical guidance. Perhaps, then, Rav Yosef Caro held a similar position as these achronim and for this reason never quotes the Magid in his halachic works. The Magen Avraham and the Shavuos night minhag One final point: According to most of the early sources for this Minhag, it is based on Kabbala and was originally intended only for the most learned of the community, but eventually became the minhag of the masses too. However, it is interesting that the Magan Avraham, after quoting the Zohar as the earliest source for this minhag, gives his own reason for it. He writes, based on the Midrash, that at Har Sinai, the Jews slept during the night before the giving of the Torah, and Hashem had to awaken them. As a form of teshuvah for our ancestors’ lack of zeal and appreciation for the Torah at Har Sinai, we stay up the entire night learning.[51]The Magen Avraham thus turned a Kabbalastically based custom into one with a basis in the revealed Torah. Moreover, while most of the sources deal with the special seder of learning one is supposed to follow on Shavuos night, the Magan Avraham does not mention such aseder limud, choosing instead to address various halachic questions that arise for those who stay awake through the night, such as the halachos relating to Netilas Yadyim, Birchas Hatorah, the bracha on the Talis and Kriyas Shema Al Hamitah, thereby further giving a halachic focus to this Kabbalistically rooted minhag. In so doing, the Magen Avraham, a preeminent work on Orach Chaim, may have helped ensure the widespread adoption of the minhag of learning throughout Shavuos night. [1] There are many collections of material on this subject. The most in depth treatment is that of R. Binyomin Hamberger, Shorshei Minhag Ashkenaz, 3, pp. 268-364. For additional useful material see : Yosef Yahlom, Alei Eyin, pp. 125-146; R’ Mordechai Spielman, Tiferes Tzvi, pp. 74-79; Meir Bar-Ilan, Mechkarei Hachag 8 (1997), pp. 28-48; Moshe Chalamish, HaKabbalah Betefilah Uminhag, pp. 595-612; R’ Yakov Hillel, Shut Shorshei Hayam, 2:12; Pardes Eliezer, pp. 70-171; Moadim L’simcha 6, pp. 420-448; Rabbi Yitzchak Tessler, P’ninei Minhag, pp. 120-166. See also Herman Pollack, Jewish Folkways in Germanic Lands (1648-1806), pp. 191-192. For a very interesting article connecting this minhag to the availability of coffeesee Elliott Horowitz, ‘Coffee, Coffeehouses, and the Nocturnal Rituals of Early Modern Jewry,’ AJS Review 14:1 (Spring 1989), pp. 17-46 and Assaf Nabarro, Tikkun from Lurianic Kabbalah to Popular Culture, PhD dissertation, Ben Gurion University 2006, pp. 87. [2] For this see the sources in note one. See also most recently this article from Eli Stern. [3] Eliezer Brodt, Halachic Commentaries to the Shulchan Aruch on Orach Chayim from Ashkenaz and Poland in the Seventeenth Century, PhD, Bar Ian University) July 2015, pp.354-360. [4] Pauline Wengeroff, Memoirs of a Grandmother, 2010, p.150. [5] See Pirkei Zichronos, (2004), p. 359 [6] Rabbis and Wives, p. 159. [7] Letters from the Mir, p. 145 [8] Mi-Telz Ad Telz, p.212, 362. [9] Sefer Hamusar, p. 59a. For information about this work see the introduction to the facsimile edition printed in Jerusalem 1973. [10] Or Zarua, p. 233, first printed in its entirety from manuscript in 2009. See Chalamish (above, note 1), pp. 596-597; Eliezer Brodt, Halachic Commentaries to the Shulchan Aruch on Orach Chayim from Ashkenaz and Poland in the Seventeenth Century, pp. 355, fn. 117. [11] Mateh Moshe 3:694. [12] Zohar, Emor p. 88a [13] Mareh Cohen, p. 117, 280. On this work see Zev Gries, Safrut Hanhaghot, pp. 41-42, 71-75. [14] Yesh Sachir, p. 33b. [15] Seder HaYom, p. 183. [16] About this work see Eliezer Brodt, Halachic Commentaries to the Shulchan Aruch on Orach Chayim from Ashkenaz and Poland in the Seventeenth Century, PhD dissertation, Bar Ian University, pp. 264-278 [17] Siman 494. [18] Heichal Hakodesh, p. 60a. [19] About this work see the appendix to this earlier post here. [20] Magen Avraham, 494: introduction. [21] Ibid. [22] Od LaMoed, p. 33a. [23] Sefer Chizyonos, 4:17 (end). [24] Ma’agel Tov, p. 66, 154. See my article in Yeshurun 26 (2012), pp. 853-874 for more about this work. [25] Sefer HaChida, 2, pp. 534, 538,539,540, 544. [26] See his Nefesh Dovid, p. 129 [printed in the back of Seder Eliyhau]. In his work Har Hamoriah, he describes a time when he was ill on Erev Shavuos but that evening felt well enough to stay up and learn [first printed in Shnos Dor Vedor, 1. p.125 and then in Har Hamoriah, p. 59]. [27] First printed by Simcha Assaf, Kovetz Al Yad 3, p. 131. [28] Masos Eretz Yisroel, p.300. [29] See Eliezer Brodt, Halachic Commentaries to the Shulchan Aruch on Orach Chayim from Ashkenaz and Poland in the Seventeenth Century,PhD dissertation, Bar Ian University, pp.191-198 [30] Sefer Zechirah, p. 258. On this work, see myLikutei Eliezer, pp. 13-25. [31] Halichos Teiman, p. 32 [32] Shelah, Shavuos, pp. 29b-30a. About this letter see: Rabbi Leopold Greenwald, Harav R’ Yosef Caro Uz’mano, pp. 197-199; Tzvi Werblowsky, Joseph Karo, Lawyer and Mystic, pp. 19-21, 108-114; A. Ya’ari, Ta’alumot Sefer, p. 106; Y. Tishbi, Chikrei Kabalah UShlucoseha, 2, pp. 391-393; Dovid Tamar, Mechkarim Betoldot Hayehudim B’Eretz Yisroel, pp.195-196; R’ Blau, Kulmos, 100 (2011), p.14,29. [33] See Chalamish (above note 1), p. 599. [34] On this work, see my Likutei Eliezer, p. 2. [35-36]] On this subject see myLikutei Eliezer, pp. 90-100. For a new approach to all this see most recently Eliezer Brodt, “The Relationship of the Magen Avraham to the Work Magid Meisharim, Yeshurun 35 (2016), pp. 738-787. Also see Eliezer Brodt, Halachic Commentaries to the Shulchan Aruch on Orach Chayim from Ashkenaz and Poland in the Seventeenth Century,PhD dissertation, Bar Ian University, pp. 284-290. [37] Tzefunot 6 (1990), pp. 79-86; 8 (1990), pp. 23-31; 9 (1991), pp. 25-33. [38] Nimukei Orach Chaim, 426:1. [39] See Meir Benayahu, Yosef Bechiri, pp. 396-401; Tzvi Werblowsky, Joseph Karo, Lawyer and Mystic. See also Likutei Eliezer, pp. 100-103. [40] This is not found in the Magid Meisharim that we have today. But the Chida has already written that the sefer that is extant today is only a small part of the original work. [41] Torat Hakanaot, p. 48a. [42] Siddur Rav Yaakov Emden, 2, p. 159. [43] For a very useful summary of material about this, see Encyclopedia Talmudis, 33, pp. 869-882. M. Goldstein, The Assistance of Celestial Bodies in Halachic Decisions, (heb.), PhD dissertation, Bar Ilan University 2004. [44] Beis Yosef Hachadash, p. 424. [45] Toras HaGaon R’ Alexander Moshe, p. 328. [46] Tosfos Aron, p. 42a. [47] Magan Vtzinah, pp. 27b-28a. [48] Torat Hakanot, p. 48a. [49] About this work, see Rav Aron Marcus’ and Rav Reuven Margolios introductions to their respective editions of Sh’ailos v’Teshuvos Min Hashamayim. See also E. Kanarfogel, “For its not in Heaven: Dreams as a Determinant of Jewish Law and Practice in Northern Europe During the High Middle Ages,” Studies in Medieval Jewish Intellectual and Social History (2012) pp. 111-143; Unpublished lecture of Pinchas Roth, “Questions and Answers from Heaven: Halakhic Diversity in a Medieval Community”; Pinchas Roth, “Responsa from Heaven: Fragments of a New Manuscript of “She’elot u-Teshuvot min ha-Shamayim” from Gerona,”Materia Giudaica 15-16 (2010-2011) pp. 555-564; Likutei Eliezer, pp.59-63. [50] Seder Mishnah, Madah, pp. 113-114. [51] See the Radal’s notes to Pirkei D’Rabi Eliezer, Perek 41: 41-42.

The 1526 Prague Haggadah and its Illustrations

The 1526 Prague Haggadah and its Illustrations By ELIEZER BRODT This piece was originally printed in Ami Magazine’s Kunteres 9 Nisan 5777 – April 5, 2017

The topic perhaps most written about in Jewish literature is the Haggadah shel Pesach. There are many kinds in many languages and with all kinds of pirushim and pictures. Whatever style one can think of, not one but many Haggados have been written—be it on derush, kabbalah, halachah, mussar or chassidus. There are people who specialize in collecting Haggados, even though they don’t regularly collect sefarim. In every Jewish house today one can find many kinds of Haggados. Over the years, various bibliographers collected and listed the various Haggados. In 1997, Yitzchak Yudolov printed The Haggadah Thesaurus, which contains an extensive bibliography of Haggados from the beginning of printing until 1960. The final number in his bibliography listing is 4,715! Of course, many more have been printed since 1960. New Haggados are printed every single year. Even people who never wrote chiddushim on the Haggadah have had one published under their name based on their collected writings. When one goes to the sefarim store before Pesach, it has become the custom to buy at least one, although it is very easy to become overwhelmed, not knowing which to pick. The one I would like to focus on in this article was printed in Prague in 1526.[1] The Prague edition of the Haggadah is considered by experts to be one of the most important illustrated Haggados ever published. It is perhaps the earliest printed[2] illustrated Haggadah for a Jewish audience, and it served as a model for many subsequent illustrated Haggados. Some insist that it is the greatest single Haggadah ever printed. “Certainly it is one of the chief glories in the annals of Hebrew printing as a whole and for that matter in the history of typography in any language.”[3] Printing came to Prague in 1487 (around 40 years after its invention), and the first Hebrew book was printed there in 1518. The Prague 1526 edition was published by the brothers Gershom (Cohen) and Gronom Katz on Sunday, 26 Teves 5287 or December 30, 1526.[4] This Haggadah contains many of the halachos of the Seder beginning with bedikas chametz, a collection of pirushim on various parts of the Haggadah, and 60 illustrations made from woodcuts. However, we do not know who authored these halachos and divrei Torah (which are full of interesting ideas). The halachos written here are very significant, as they were written and printed before the Shulchan Aruch. The illustrations are also significant, as they had a tremendous impact on the illustrated Haggados printed afterward. I would like to discuss some of the interesting things we can learn about the Seder and Haggadah via this Haggadah and some of its illustrations. The first general question is why they chose to illustrate the Haggadah. Who was their intended audience? Various people who studied this Haggadah have debated this issue,[5] but to me it’s pretty clear that it had to do with one of the most important parts of the Seder night—the special audience—the children. This was a tool to help enable us to fulfil the important obligation of v’higadeta l’vincha. Last year, in an article in this magazine, I outlined many customs done during the Seder with the underlying theme to get the children “into” the Seder. One of the best ways to get kids “into” it is via visual aids, showing them pictures or acting out certain things. Simply reciting the Haggadah and just saying “some Torah” is not as effective. It would seem to me that this was their intention when they illustrated the Haggadah. It could be that some of the pictures were to lighten it up for the adults too, as I will soon explain. The significance of this point is that Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, zt”l, raises possible issues with looking at illustrated Haggados on Pesach based on the halachos in the Shulchan Aruch (307:15) dealing with reading captions of images on Shabbos.[6] If we are correct that the purpose is to educate the children, it might be a possible reason to permit looking at these images. To be sure, some of the Haggados with images were printed with the involvement of great gedolim, such as the illustrated 1590 Prague Haggadah, which had a kitzur of the Zevach Pesach of the Abarbanel written by Rav Yitzchak Chayis (1538-1610). Just to emphasize the significance of visual aids when learning, in a haskamah for a work about shechitah that was written but never printed, the Aderes stresses the benefit of the numerous diagrams and illustrations of animals in the book for the understanding of the various complex halachos of shechitah.[7] Similarly, Rav Belsky dissected an animal on video to give a visual aid for those learning Maseches Chulin. It is also related that when the Minsker Gadol, Rav Yerucham Perlman, zt”l (1835-1896), first became rav he made it his business to go to the head shochet of the city to learn all the aspects of animals for the laws of treifos and the like. The shochet asked him how he could possibly teach the rav anything. The Minsker Gadol replied, “It’s one thing to learn the halachos in sefarim, but when it comes to psak halachah one needs to know the exact aspects as they are on the actual animal.[8] Additionally, there is a great benefit for us to analyze the pictures nowadays, as it can give us a glimpse into how they conducted the Seder in those days. Halachos One of the first parts of the Seder is the eating of karpas. Nowadays, for the most part, the custom is for the children to say, “We wash our hands, but we don’t say the brachah for this washing.” In the instructions to the Prague Hagadah it says to say the brachah for washing.[9] In fact, there are a number of Rishonim who say that one should say the brachah of al netilas yadayim. Who pours the wine?

After saying Ha Lachma Anya the cups of wine are refilled. There is a picture of someone refilling the wine with a caption stating that the servant should refill the wine. The Rama in Darchei Moshe says that the person who is conducting the Seder should not fill the cups of wine; rather, someone else should do it for him.[10] This would appear to be an earlier writter source with the same idea.[11] Interestingly enough, the Aruch Hashulchan writes that we do not do this. The leader can pour the wine for himself, and there is no reason that his wife should have to pour for him.[12] Rav Yitzchak Chayis writes in Siach Yitzchak—which is a halachic work about the Seder night first printed in Prague in 1587—that one should train his six or seven-year-old child to do this mitzvah.[13] Perhaps another minhag related to this statement of the Rama is that the one leading the Seder does not get up to wash his hands; rather, the water is brought to him.[14] Pouring out the wine for the Ten Makkos Another minhag found in this Haggadah is the famous custom of dipping the fingers into the wine when saying the Ten Makkos. In this section of the Haggadah there is an illustration of someone dipping his finger into his cup and there is also a caption under the picture stating that some dip with the pinky, followed by a reason for this custom.[15] The earliest known source for this minhag can be found in a drashah of the Rokei’ach, recently printed from a manuscript by Professor Simcha Emanuel.[16] But this source speaks about dipping the index finger. The Rama also writes to dip the index finger. Interestingly, the Magen Avraham says to dip with the kemitzah, which is the ring finger. Walking with a sack on the back There a few places in the Haggadah, such as near the paragraph of B’chol dor vador, where we find an illustration of someone walking with a sack (of matzah) on his back. The source for this can be found in some of the Rishonim and early Acharonim. After mentioning breaking the matzah in their description of Yachatz they add that the leader of the Seder puts it on his shoulders and walks with it for a bit; others do this only later on when they eat the afikoman.[17] Eliyahu Hanavi coming to the Seder I traced the sources for this in a previous article in Ami Magazine. When discussing the sources for this, Rabbi Sperber notes[18] that in a few of the illustrated Haggados there are pictures of a man on a donkey near Shefoch Chamascha. In some of them he is being led by someone else; for example, in the Prague Haggadah of 1526.

I also noted that Rabbi Yuzpeh Shamash writes that mazikin run away from any place where Eliyahu’s name is mentioned. He says that because of this some make a picture of Eliyahu and Moshiach for the children, so that the children seeing it will say “Eliyahu,” causing the mazikin to disappear.[19] This could indicate that the illustrations were shown specifically to the children, as I claimed earlier. Nusach of the Haggadah The actual nusach of the Haggadah is its own large topic, starting from the Gemara and moving onward to manuscripts and discussions among the poskim. In the beginning of the Haggadah we begin with the famous Aramaic passage of Ha Lachma Anya. Much has been written about different aspects of this passage. One aspect is whether the exact nusach should be Ha Lachma Anya or K’ha Lachma Anya. The Rama quotes Rav Avraham of Prague, who says to specifically say Ha Lachma Anya and not K’ha Lachma Anya. The Maharal says the same. We see that two great sages from the city of Prague paskened that we should say Ha Lachma Anya. Who was this Rav Avraham of Prague quoted by the Rama? Rav Dovid Ganz (a talmid of the Maharal) writes in his historical work Tzemach Dovid that he was the rosh yeshivah and av beis din of Prague in the 1520s. He also authored some notes to the Tur, which were printed by Gershom (Cohen) Katz in Prague in 1540.[20] Thus, it is interesting that in the Haggadah the nusach was different from that of the av beis din of the city. Interestingly enough, his sons printed two more Haggados (1556 and 1590) in Prague and there too the nusach is different from that of Rav Avraham. Ultimately, the Magen Avraham concludes that whichever nusach one says is fine.[21] What to use for maror Another interesting picture is of the maror. In two places in the Haggadah the illustration used for maror is that of a lettuce—chasah. This is chazeret, which is the first of the five types enumerated in the Mishnah that one can use for maror. There is a famous teshuvah from the Chacham Tzvi where he writes at length that this is the ideal item to be used for maror, as it’s the first in the list of the Mishnah.[22] We also find that the Netziv wrote a letter to his son, Rabbi Chaim Berlin, urging him to use it for maror instead of sharper vegetables, especially after fasting and drinking wine.[23] There are also numerous earlier illustrated manuscripts that show pictures of lettuce for the maror.[24] More on maror

Speaking of maror, the inscription next to the picture is of great interest. It says, “There is a custom when saying maror that the man points to his wife, as it says ‘An evil wife is worse than death.’” Much has been written about this illustration. Some have written that it is ridiculous and there cannot be such a custom. On the other hand, Rabbi Wengrov and, more recently, Rabbi Yisroel Peles,[25] have demonstrated that there are pictures of a man pointing to his wife near the paragraph of maror in various illustrated Haggadah manuscripts. It is clear, however, as Rabbi Wengrov writes, that this was done in a joking manner to lighten up the Seder, but it isn’t serious, chas v’shalom. Rabbi Wengrov demonstrates that other pictures found in these Haggados show that the authors had a sense of humor and drew certain illustrations to lighten up the mood.[26]

Explanation via illustration Some of the pictures in the Haggadah are to explain a particular passage. One such example is the image of the four sons. The tam is often translated as a derogatory term—the foolish son. However, the caption above the picture says, “Tamim tihyeh im Hashem” – always be complete with Hashem, which means that they understood the tam to be a man of piety.[27] Omission At the end of the Haggadah we conclude the Seder with a few songs, such as Echad Mi Yodei’a[28] and Chad Gadya. The authors and earliest sources for reciting them are unknown.[29] Rabbi Shemaryah Adler suggests that Chad Gadya may have been written by Daniel.[30] Rabbi Yedidyah Tiyah Weil writes in Marbeh L’sapeir on the Haggadah that he heard that these two songs were found in a manuscript from the beis midrash of Rav Elazar Rokei’ach. Numerous pirushim have been written about Chad Gadya, based on all the methods of learning Torah.[31] Be that as it may, many have noted that they are not found in this Haggadah. The first time they appear in print are in the Haggadah printed in Prague in 1590. Another notable omission is the stealing of the afikoman. I wrote in the past in this magazine that one of the earliest sources in print can be found in the Siach Yitzchak, which mentions stealing the afikoman, but not in the same way as we do it nowadays.[32] It would seem that since no mention of it is made in the instructions of the 1526 Haggadah that it was not yet a widespread custom at that time. Kiddush and Hunting

In the beginning of the Haggadah, on the bottom of the page of Kiddush, we find a mysterious picture of someone hunting hares with a horn and dogs. This picture can also be found in a bentcher printed by the Katz brothers in Prague a few years earlier. The question is obvious: What in the world does this have to do with Kiddush, especially as it is not a Jewish hobby? One of the answers suggested is that when Yom Tov occurs on Motzaei Shabbos we use an abbreviation known as Yaknehaz to remember the order in which to say Kiddush and Havdalah. The pronunciation of Yaknehaz is similar to jagen hasen, which is German for hunting hares, so this picture is meant to serve as a reminder of the abbreviation.[33] More on Kiddush

Throughout the Haggadah there are illustrations of people holding cups of wine; sometimes the one holding the cup is dressed like a king. It would appear that this is to reflect the halachah to act like a king on the Seder night as part of the celebration of our freedom. At other times the image is of an older man holding the cup either in his left hand or in his right. Rabbi Shaul Kook points out that some of the time it’s in the palm of his hand, which is the way it should be held according to various mekubalim, while at other times he holds the cup by its stem. He suggests that near the passage where Rabbi Elazar ben Azaryah says, “I am like someone who is 70 years old,” he is depicted as holding the cup in his left hand while stroking his white beard with the other to show that he’s really not that old.[34] At that point in the Haggadah one would not be holding the cup for the purpose of drinking one of the four kosos and that’s why he’s not holding it in his palm. Whereas in the pictures near where one would hold the cup for drinking he is holding it in the palm of his right hand. However, there is another picture on the page of Kiddush that is similar to the one of Rabbi Elazar holding the cup in his left hand and stroking his beard. Rabbi Kook says that this is because the printer was not educated and, not realizing the reasons for the difference, used the wrong woodcut.[35]

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