Marc Shapiro: R. Kook on Sacrifices & Other Assorted Comments

R. Kook on Sacrifices and Other Assorted Comments by: Marc B. Shapiro

1. At the beginning of my previous post (the Gurock review) I mentioned R. Solomon Isaac Scheinfeld (1860-1943). The source of the comment I quote is hisOlam ha-Sheker (Milwaukee, 1936), p. 77.1 Scheinfeld was the unofficial chief rabbi in Milwaukee, arriving there in 1902 and serving until his death in 1943. Here is his picture.

He had a traditional education, having studied for three years in the Kovno Kollel under R. Isaac Elhanan Spektor, from whom he received semikhah.2 He also had a very original mind, and wrote a number of books and essays. One of his most fascinating works is the article he published under the pseudonym Even Shayish. In this article he argued that since sacrifices will never be revived, they are now irrelevant to Judaism and all references to them should be removed from the prayer book. R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg has a lengthy essay in which he critiques Scheinfeld’s position. A Hebrew translation of this essay appears in volume 2 of Kitvei R. Weinberg. Yet Weinberg himself leaves open the possibility that there won’t be a return to sacrifices (p. 255): אין דנים כאן על עצם הרעיון היסודי של הקרבנות. לו היתה היום קיימת אצלנו שאלה כזאת והיא דורשת פתרון דחוף – אין מספר מצומצם של יהודים בארץ אחת בני סמכות להכריע בענין זה, וכל שכן כאשר הם אינם מייצגים את כלל ישראל. שאלה זאת חייבים להביא לפני הבית דין של כלל ישראל. רק לבית דין כזה הרשות לקבוע אם להשאיר טקס מקודש בעם בתוקפו או לבטלו. היום שאין לנו ארץ ולא בית המקדש ולא כהנים הרי זה מגוחך ומצער כאחת להעלות תביעה לבטל עבודת קרבנות! Weinberg doesn’t mention Maimonides, but this is usually to where people turn when seeking to argue against a revival of sacrifices. According to the Guide 3:32, Maimonides thought that sacrifices were a concession to the masses’ primitive religious notions, developed in an idolatrous society. While Maimonides is explicit in the Mishneh Torah that there will be a return of the sacrificial order, his reason for sacrifices offered in the Guide led some people to assume that his true opinion was that there will not be sacrifices in the future. One example is R. Simhah Paltrovitch, Simhat Avot (New York, 1917), pp. 7-8, who offers a mystical approach: אמנם מה נעשה במה שדברי מורנו ורבנו הרמב”ם ז”ל שהוא בסברתו מתנגד לאלה הדברים, ואומר כי בימים הבאים עת קץ משיחנו, יבוטל עבודה בקרבנות ולא יהיה עוד . . . להעולם הזה נתנו הפשט והדרוש, ובעולם השני יקויים הרמז והסוד . . .וכן ממש הוא טעם של הרמב”ם ז”ל שיבוטל הקרבנות, כי אז יהי’ התורה על צד הרמז וסוד כמו שארי המצוות המבוארות בתורה, כי יתחלפון מן הפשט לרמז וסוד שמשונים מן הפשט. R. Joseph Messas also cites Maimonides’ reason for sacrifices and concludes that there will be no return of the sacrificial order (Otzar ha-Mikhtavim, vol. 2, no. 1305). לפי”ז יתבטלו לעתיד כל הקרבנות כי זה אלפי שנים משנעקרה ע”ז מישראל, וישראל גוי אחד, עובדים רק לאל אחד ועל ידי ישראל בגלותם נעקרה ע”ז גם מכל האומות. What about the problem that the abolition of sacrifices would mean a change in Torah law, which is a point that R. Kook will also deal with? Messas answers simply: ואין בזה שנוי בתורה חלילה, דזיל בתר טעמא What this means, I think, is that from the beginning sacrifices were only intended to be offered in a society in which people were attached to primitive religious notions associated with idolatry, and the animal sacrifices that went along with this. However, once this era has passed from the scene, then there will no longer be any obligation for sacrifices. A really shocking comment against sacrfices appears in a supposed letter from R. Yaakov of Lissa to R. Zvi Hirsch Kalischer (published in Ha-Posek, Kislev 5712). Responding to Kalischer’s advocacy of renewing sacrifices even before the coming of the Messiah, R. Yaakov claims that to do so would cause Jews to be a subject of mockery by the Gentiles and the non-religious Jews. לבי נוקף ונפשי מלא רטט ורעד כי אם ישמעו הגויים והקלים בישראל שאנחנו מקריבים קרבנות ימלאו שחוק פיהם ונהיה ח”ו ללעג ולקלס וה’ יודע כמה צרות וקלקולים יצמחו מזה

It is very unlikely, to put it mildly, that a gadol be-Yisrael would give this as his reason for not fulfilling a mitzvah. When one realizes that the person who published this letter was the famous forger Chaim Bloch, then all doubts are removed: The letter, like so much else published by Bloch, is a complete forgery. Apparently Bloch had some negative feelings about sacrifices and transferred them to R. Yaakov. Interestingly, when this letter was republished inDovev Siftei Yeshenim, vol. 1, Bloch made a subtle change in the letter, which as far as I know, no one has yet pointed out. The letter’s authenticity had been attacked by Zvi Harkavy in Kol Torah (Nisan-Iyar 5712), and one of the things he pointed to was this line, and that R. Yaakov could never have written it. So when Bloch republished the letter, in an attempt to bolster its authenticity, he altered it to read as follows (I have underlined the newly added words): כי אם ישמעו הגויים והקלים בישראל שאנחנו מקריבים קרבנות בזמן הזה לפני ביאת משיח צדקנו ובטרם עומד בית מקדשנו על מכונו, ימלאו שחוק פיהם ונהיה ח”ו ללעג ולקלס

Had he been smart enough to have added these extra words in the first edition of his forgery, it would have been more believable. Now R. Yaakov is not speaking of the non-Jews and the non-religious mocking the offering of sacrifices, but only mocking the offering of them before the coming of the Messiah and the building of the Temple. Michael Friedlaender’s The Jewish Religion (London, 1891), was for many years regarded as a standard work of Orthodox belief. As far as I know, it was the first of its kind in English and can still hold its own against many more recently published books. You can see it here. On pages 162-163, 417-418, he speaks of the return of the sacrificial order in Messianic days, and how we should look forward to this, even if it is contrary to our taste. He says that we should not model Divine Law according to our liking, but rather model our liking according to the will of God. Yet despite these strong statements, he was also sensitive to those who were not comfortable with sacrifices. He writes as follows (p. 452): References to the Sacrificial Service, and especially prayers for its restoration, are disliked by some, who think such restoration undesirable. Let no one pray for a thing against his will; let him whose heart is not with his fellow- worshippers in any of their supplications silently substitute his own prayers for them; but let him not interfere with the devotion of those to whom “the statues of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart” . . . and who yearn for the opportunity of fulfilling Divine commandments which they cannot observe at present.

This passage is quoted by British Chief Rabbi Joseph Hertz in his Authorised Daily Prayer Book, p. 532. Upon seeing this, R. Yerucham Leiner, then living in London, wrote a letter to the Jewish Chronicle (Dec. 17, 1943; I learnt of this from Louis Jacobs, Tree of Life, second ed., p. xxix). Before quoting from his letter, let me reproduce what Wikipedia says about this most incredible figure. Grand Rabbi Yerucham Leiner of Radzin, son of Likutei Divrei Torah, author of Tiferes Yerucham, Zikaron LaRishonim, Mipi Hashmua, Zohar HaRakiya. Moved from Chelm to London to America. Continuation of the Radziner line in America, and one of the last direct descendants of the Leiner family. After the war, he did not reinstitute the wearing of techeiles as other branches of Radzin did, even though his father, Grand Rabbi Avraham Yehoshua Heschel Leiner of Radzin-Chelm, wore them, as he was a chosid of his older brother, the Orchos Chayim, who had reinstituted the wearing of techeiles. Reb Yerucham believed that the original formula of his uncle was lost during the war. This is the reason that his family doesn’t wear techeiles today, only pairs that were left from pre-war Europe. Reb Yerucham was an expert in all areas of Torah and scholarship. There existed very few admorim/tzaddikim since the beginning of Chassidus who were also lamdanim in both the Polish and Lithuanian styles of learning, bibliographers, Jewish historians, very learned in Kabbalah works, philologists, and masters of both the Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmuds. Reb Yerucham was very close with the Satmar Rebbe, Rabbi Yoelish Teitelbaum ZTVK”L. He always made sure to spend a few weeks vacationing with the him, specifically learning Midrashei Chazal, of which they were both masters. He studied and visited with Rabbi Yitzchok Hutner, and they were good friends in later life. They always treated one another with special respect. He established the Radziner shtiebel in Boro Park. Died 20 Av 5724 (1964). Buried in Beth Israel Cemetery, Woodbridge, New Jersey

Responding to the quote from Friedlaender, Leiner wrote: “This opinion was put forward by the founders of Reform Judaism, Holdheim and Geiger. But it is hardly in accord with Orthodox traditions of Judaism.” The editor of theJewish Chronicle responsed: “The words quoted with regard to the Musaph are those of the great and sainted scholar, Dr. Michael Friedlander, for 42 years Principal of Jews College: and it is certainly strange to class him with Holdheim and Geiger.” The most famous of our sages to speak of a Messianic era without animal sacrifices is, of course, R. Kook, who envisions vegetable sacrifices. He writes this in his commentary to the siddur, Olat ha-Reiyah, vol. 1, p. 292. In the preface R. Zvi Yehudah tells us that he began writing this commentary during World War I. I don’t need to go into any detail on this, as I have done so already in The Limits of Orthodox Theology, where I also mention passages in R. Kook’s writings that offer a different approach. The notion that there will only be vegetable sacrifices in Messianic days is, of course, a radical position, and many who don’t know R. Kook’s writings find it impossible to accept that he could have said this. This is what happened when R. Yosef Kanefsky of Los Angeles published an essay in which he mentioned R. Kook’s view.3 He was attacked by some prominent rabbis since they found it impossible to believe that R. Kook could say what was attributed to him. Yet it was Kanefsky who was right, not his opponents. In my book I dealt with R. Kook’s position on sacrifices, because positing that there will be no sacrifices in the future would seem to be in contradiction to Maimonides’ Principle that the commandments of the Torah are eternal. That consideration is precisely what makes his position so radical. A couple of years ago one of R. Kook’s notebooks dating from his time as rabbi in Bausk, which lasted until 1904, was published. We actually have two publications of this, one by Boaz Ofen called Kevatzim mi-Ketav Yad Kodsho, vol. 2 (Jerusalem, 2008), and the other, which comes out of the world of Merkaz ha-Rav, called Pinkesei ha-Reiyah (Jerusalem, 2008). This is not the first competing publications of the same material by these people, and as I will show in my forthcoming book, the Merkaz editions are tainted by censorship in that “problematic” passages are removed.4 Those who claim to be the greatest adherents of R. Kook have once again taken it upon themselves to save their master from himself, as it were, and decided which writings of R. Kook should appear and which should not. Yet in the passage I am interested in now (no. 8 in the Ofen edition and no. 6 in the Merkaz edition), the two books are identical. The passage is very significant since it shows you that even in his earlier years R. Kook had the same notion later expressed in Olat ha-Reiyah, that the future would only know vegetable sacrifices. (In case people are wondering, R. Kook was not a vegetarian. Yet he did see vegetarianism as part of the eschatological future. His great student, the Nazir, was a vegetarian, as was Nazir’s son-in- law, R. Shlomo Goren, and as is his son, R. Shear Yashuv Cohen.5) This passage gives us new insight into R. Kook’s view of sacrifices, and how things will change in the future era. He begins by speaking of the abandonment of meat-eating in the Messianic era, since this will not be something that people desire. Recall that in speaking of eating meat, the Torah which means “when ,כי תאוה נפשך לאכל בשר :(writes (Deut. 12:6 thy soul desires to eat meat.” The Messianic era is not a time when people will have this desire, as R. Kook also explains in his famous essay on vegetarianism, “Afikim ba-Negev”. What about the sacrifices that are required by the Torah? R. Kook offers a few possibilities. One is that sacrifices will still be necessary. Yet he also speculates that perhaps certain animals will be so spiritually advanced that they will on their own offer themselves as sacrifices, in acknowledgment of the great benefit that will come to them and the world through their actions.6 This solves the problem of people deliberately killing animals, which goes against his conception of the eschaton. What is most interesting for our purpose is another suggestion by R. Kook, namely, that the Sanhedrin will use its power to uproot a matter from the Torah in order to abolish obligatory animal sacrifices. Their reason for doing this will be that the killing of animals will no longer be part of the culture in Messianic days. R. Kook even shows how the Rabbis will be able to find support for this step from the Torah. What he is doing, I think, is imagining himself as part of the future Sanhedrin that abolishes sacrifices, and informing us of the derashah that will be used to support this. This is related to what I wrote in an earlier post, see here, and I repeat it now: As to the general problem of laws that trouble the ethical sense of people, we find that it is R. Kook who takes the bull by the horns and suggests a radical approach. The issue was much more vexing for R. Kook than for other sages, as in these types of matters he could not simply tell people that their consciences were leading them astray and that they should submerge their inherent feelings of right and wrong. It is R. Kook, after all, who famously says that fear of heaven cannot push aside one’s natural morality (Shemonah Kevatzim 1:75): אסור ליראת שמים שתדחק את המוסר הטבעי של האדם, כי אז אינה עוד יראת שמים טהורה. סימן ליראת שמים טהורה הוא, כשהמוסר הטבעי, הנטוע בטבע הישר של האדם, הולך ועולה על פיה במעלות יותר גבוהות ממה שהוא עומד מבלעדיה. אבל אם תצוייר יראת שמים בתכונה כזאת, שבלא השפעתה על החיים היו החיים יותר נוטים לפעול טוב, ולהוציא אל הפועל דברים מועילים לפרט ולכלל, ועל פי השפעתה מתמעט כח הפועל ההוא, יראת שמים כזאת היא יראה פסולה.

These are incredible words. R. Kook was also “confident that if a particular moral intuition reflecting the divine will achieves widespread popularity, it will no doubt enable the halakhic authorities to find genuine textual basis for their new understanding.” R. Kook formulates his idea as follows (Iggerot ha-Reiyah, vol. 1, p. 103): ואם תפול שאלה על איזה משפט שבתורה, שלפי מושגי המוסר יהיה נראה שצריך להיות מובן באופן אחר, אז אם באמת ע”פ ב”ד הגדול יוחלט שזה המשפט לא נאמר כ”א באותם התנאים שכבר אינם, ודאי ימצא ע”ז מקור בתורה.

R. Kook is not speaking about apologetics here, but a revealing of Torah truth that was previously hidden. The truth is latent, and with the development of moral ideas, which is driven by God, the new insight in the Torah becomes apparent. Ad kan leshoni in the previous post. In other words, R. Kook sees the Sanhedrin as able to actualize new moral and religious insights that have become apparent. That is why it is important for the Sanhedrin to use derashot when dealing with these matters, as this shows that the idea is not something new that has been developed, but something that was latent in the Torah, and only now has become apparent. So what derashah can be used to justify an abolishment of את קרבני לחמי :animal sacrifices? R. Kook points to Num 28:2 This is usually translated as “My food which is . לאשי לחמי presented to Me for offerings made by fire”. Yet the word actually means “my bread.” Right after this, in discussing the particulars of the sacrifice, the Torah states: “The one lamb thou shalt offer in the morning.” R. Kook’s proposed messianic derashah is: “Whenever animals are killed for personal consumption, you should use them for sacrifices, but when they are not killed for personal use, make sacrifices of bread.” I don’t think I am exaggerating in saying that this is one of the most provocative and radical texts in R. Kook’s writings. I say this not because of his advocacy of abolishing sacrifices, which I don’t think to be that significant in the larger scheme, but due to how he is envisioning the process by which the Rabbis will actually use derashot to create a Messianic Judaism. The Rambam, Hilkhot Mamrim 2:1, speaks of laws derived from the hermeneutical principles that can be altered by a future beit din ha-gadol (even one not as great as the one that established the original law). This was the great fear of the opponents of a reconstituted Sanhedrin, that the Mizrachi rabbis would take upon themselves to do precisely this. Since so many of our laws are based on derashot, Judaism as we practice it can be entirely reworked. R. Kook is showing us how this can be done, but he is going further than anything Maimonides envisioned, since sacrifices are not matters that have been established based on a rabbinic derashah but are commanded by explicit biblical verses. Basically, what R. Kook is doing is recreating the world of the Pharisees, before Judaism was bound to codes (beginning with the Mishnah). It was a time when Jewish law was developing and the biblical verses could be read—some would say “read”— in all sorts of ways. In the days of the Pharisees much of the halakhah as we know it was created, and to a large extent that can be done again in the Messianic era. ריח Here are R. Kook’s words (note also his exegesis with : (ניחוח שהסנהדרין אז ימצאו לנכון, ע”פ הכח שיש להם לעקור דבר מה”ת בשוא”ת, לפטור מקרבנות החובה של מין החי, כיון שכבר חדלה הריגת החי מן המנהג של תשמישי הרשות והמקרא מסייע, שקרא הכתוב לקרבן לחם, “את קרבני לחמי לאשי”, ואח”כ אומר “את הכבש אחד”, הא כיצד? כל זמן שבע”ח קרבים לתשמיש הרשות, עשה בע”ח לגבוה, אבל כשבע”ח אינם קרבים לרשות, עשה הקרבנות מלחם, ועל זה רמזו חז”ל: “כל הקרבנות בטלין וקרבן תודה אינה בטלה” שיש בה לחם . . . רק כעת עד זמן ההשלמה תאמר להם שיקריבו כבשים, ומותנה תמיד לריח ניחוח, וכיון שיבורר בזמן ההשלמה שהריגת הבע”ח [אינה ראויה] אי אפשר שתהיה לריח ניחוח.

R. Kook then cites the proof he mentions in Olat ha-Reiyah and in his essay “Afikim ba-Negev” (Otzarot ha-Reiyah [Rishon le- וערבה :Tziyon, 2002], vol. 2, p. 103), that Malachi 3:4 writes This . לה’ מנחת יהודה וירושלים כימי עולם וכשנים קדמוניות verse, in speaking of a sacrificial offering in Messianic days, mentions the minhah sacrifice, which is not an animal offering. As mentioned, the passage from R. Kook is so interesting because it shows that he was not merely thinking about the Messianic era, but also the actual functioning of the future Sanhedrin. He was imagining the derashot that could be used to “update” Judaism. I am unaware if this aspect of R. Kook’s thought was known before the publication of this latest volume. I also don’t know if any scholars have taken note of it even subsequent to the publication. However, in “Afikim ba- Negev” (Otzarot ha-Reiyah, vol. 2, p. 103), R. Kook also, in an offhand sentence, provides a possible derashah to justify the abolishment of sacrifices. He doesn’t develop the idea, but just puts it out there. Here is the sentence: והגביל “לרצונכם תזבחהו” (ויקרא יט, ה) שיהיה אפשר וראוי לומר “רוצה אני”. (רש”י על ויקרא א, ג).

The Talmud, Rosh ha-Shanah 6a, which is quoted by Rashi, Lev, 1:3, states that one cannot bring a sacrifice unless it arises from one’s free will. Now the Talmud, which is speaking of one particular sacrifice, actually says that we force him to bring it until he agrees, and this means that he is “willing.” But R. Kook is using this passage to hint at a different matter. In future times, when sacrifices will be so far from human sentiment, it will be impossible to do it willingly. The will then come into play. Since , לרצונכם תזבחהו ,derashah this teaches that one can only bring a sacrifice when one is willing, at a time when animal sacrifices are not considered acceptable, and thus not something people “want” to do, animal sacrifices will no longer be a requirement. Remember, R. Kook describes this future era as one in which the animals will be far advanced of what they are now. It is only when the animals are at the low state that they currently are, that we can offer them as sacrifices and eat them. He writes (Otzarot ha- Reiyah, vol. 2, p. 101), in a passage in which animals are compared to one’s children: מי לא יבין שאי אפשר להעלות על הדעת שיקח האדם את בניו, ברוח אשר יטפחם וירבה אותם להיטיב ולהשכיל, ויזבחם וישפך דמם? The texts we have seen are important in explaining how his viewpoint of the abolishment of sacrifices relates to the Ninth Principle of Maimonides. As mentioned, in my book I listed R. Kook’s view as being in opposition to the Principle. R. Kook is certainly great enough to disagree with Maimonides in this matter had he chosen to. Yet we see from his newly published writings that he would not have regarded himself in disagreement, because he understands the abolishment of sacrifices to be carried out in a purely halakhic fashion. Since the Rabbis have the exegetical authority to do such things, an authority given to them by the Torah, we are not speaking of a revision of Torah law. This case is then no different than any of the other examples where the Sages interpret Torah law different that the peshat of the verse. Returning to the newly published text, R. Kook’s imagination continues to run, and he doesn’t stop with sacrifices. In my book I called attention to R. Hayyim Halberstam’s view that in Messianic days the first born will take the place of the kohanim. R. Kook must have been attracted to this view for kabbalistic reasons, and here he provides a possible basis for how this too can be justified by the Rabbis. He also notes that since the change can be justified, “it is not uprooting a Torah matter, but rather fulfilling the Torah.”! In other words, built into the Torah is the notion that the kohanim would only be temporarily in charge of the divine worship. R. Kook argues that since the First Born were removed from their role because of the sin of the Golden Calf, it is impossible for the effects of this sin to last forever, as repentance is a more powerful force. Therefore, when the sin of the Golden Calf is atoned for there will no longer any reason for the First Born to be kept from the Avodah, and it will return to them. Following this, R. Kook offers another way of explaining why his view of sacrifices should not be seen as a “reform” or as evidence of the Torah changing (he obviously was sensitive to in other words, he is once ,ויש לדרוש this point). He says again providing the halakhic justification that can be used by a future Sanhedrin in abolishing sacrifices. His new exegetical reasoning goes as follows: The obligation of animal sacrifices was only intended for an era when the kohanim were in charge of the Avodah. This is how one is to understand the ושחט אותו על ירך המזבח . . . וזרקו בני אהרן (verse (Lev. 11:1 In other words, it is only to the descendants .הכהנים את דמו of Aaron that animal sacrifice is commanded, אבל כשיהיו כשרים ג”כ בכורות, אז מטעם העילוי של בע”ח וכלל המציאות אין הבע”ח נהוגים כ”א לחם ומנחה . . . וכך הוא המדה בכל מקום שנמצא פסוק בתורה וסברא ישרה שיש כח ביד ב”ד הגדול, מכש”כ כבצירוף הנביאים לפסוק הוראת גדולות כאלה. Note that R. Kook ties together a verse in the Torah with logic. When both are present, then the Beit Din ha-Gadol is able to act in order to make adjustments to Torah law. In this matter, the “sevarah yesharah” is the sense that animal sacrifices will not suitable for the future eschatological era, and the verses in the Torah that he cites give “cover” to the sevarah yesharah. That is, they provide the exegetical justification. (I wonder though, is R. Kook really correct when he implies that the only time the Sages could uproot a commandment was when they also had a biblical verse to justify this?) R. Kook concludes that all that he is speaking about is a long way off, and it is possible that the Resurrection will come before this and then all sorts of things will change. Yet all his prior ruminations here are about a pre-Resurrection era, when the Beit Din ha-Gadol is functioning and adjusting Torah law by means of derashot and sevarah yesharah. This is not the sort of thing that will be taking place post-Resurrection.7 Finally, lest anyone start using R. Kook’s thoughts in an antinomian fashion, he throws in the following for good measure: וזה היה מקור תרבות והרע ד”אחר”, שחזי שהמצות יש להן יחש מוגבל ותכליתי, חשב שבאמת אפשר להתעלות למעלה מהמעשים, גם בלא עת, ובאמת הכל אחדות יחיד היה הוה ויהיה, וכל עת וזמן את חובותיה נשמור, בלא נדנוד צל פקפוק.

Earlier in this post, I referred to the implications of R. Kook’s ideas with regard to Jewish law being adjusted because of new moral insights. In fact, I think it is R. Kook who provides the most comprehensive and satisfying approach to this issue. I don’t want to get into that subject at present, as I plan on returning to it, especially as a number of people have written to me about R. Kook’s views. In my future post I will illustrate my point by citing a number of examples of rulings and statements by mainstream halakhists from earlier centuries which could never be made today. The only way to explain this, I will argue, is that there has been a change in societal norms and this has made certain approaches not just practically impossible but simply wrong for our times. (See here where I cite in this regard R. Weinberg and R. Aviner.) However, I promised someone that I would give one example in this post, so here it is. R. Hayyim Benveniste, Keneset ha- Gedolah, Even ha-Ezer 154, Hagahot Beit Yosef no. 59, in discussing when we can force a husband to give a divorce, writes as follows: ובעל משפט צדק ח”א סי’ נ”ט כתב דאפי’ רודף אחריה בסכין להכותה אין כופין אותו לגרש ואפי’ לו’ לו שחייב להוציא. Can anyone imagine a posek, from even the most right-wing community, advocating such a viewpoint? I assume the logic behind this position is that even if the man is running after her with the knife, we don’t assume that he will actually kill her. He must just be doing it to scare her, and that is not enough of a reason to force him to divorce her. And if we are wrong, and he really does kill her? I guess the reply would be that this isn’t anything we could have anticipated even if we saw the knife in his hand, sort of like all those who have let pedophiles run loose in the yeshivot, presumably on the assumption that just because a man abused children in the past, that doesn’t mean that he will continue to do so.8 Notes

1 Among other interesting passages in this book, see p. 24, where he objects to people who write “ethical wills.” Quite apart from the frauds who wrote them, in order to show that they were really great people when they were in fact far from it, many tzadikim also wrote these wills. Yet Scheinfeld says that this was a mistake, since many of their children, and even more their grandchildren, assimilated among the Gentiles. He continues by lamenting how much worse things have gotten in his day: ובימינו אלה בודאי אינו מהראוי לכתוב צוואות, כמעט כל הבנים מתרחקים והולכים מדרכי אביהם, אינם רוצים ואינם יכולים ללכת בדרכיהם: “וכשם שמצוה לאמר דבר הנשמע, כך מצוה שלא לאמר דבר שאינו נשמע.” On pp. 82-83 he criticizes the “inflation” with regard to rabbinic titles that he saw in his day, and which has increased a great deal more since his time. Here is a very good example of this “inflation,” from responsa written by R. Moshe Malka, Ve-Heshiv Moshe, nos. 34-35. In this case I can guarantee you that the recipient is not deserving of the titles he has been given.

For another example of such exalted titles with regard to a non-rabbinic figure, see R. Michel Shurkin, Meged Giv’ot Olam (Jerusalem, 2005), vol. 2, p. 5, who is speaking of Prof. Samuel Soloveitchik: כיוצא בזה ראיתי מעשה, כשבשנת תשכ”ז נפטרו במשך תקופה קצרה אחיו של הגרי”ב זצ”ל, הגאון ר’ שמואל זצ”ל . . . In R. Weinberg’s letter to Samuel Atlas, published in Torah u- Madda Journal 7 (1997), pp. 107-108, he writes: “’Geonim’ sprout up there as grass in the field. Those who were emissaries of the yeshivot and unimportantmashgihim have overnight become outstanding geonim.” For more on the nonsense of elaborate titles of praise, see the many sources quoted by R. Pinchas Meyers, Nahalat Pinchas (Jerusalem, 1995), vol., 2, no. 41. See also R. Chaim Hirschensohn, Malki ba-Kodesh, vol. 1, p. 90, vol. 6, pp. 198, 200, 237-238. Returning to Scheinfeld, here is what he has to say on the topic (pp. 82-83): לרב פשוט מתארים “הרב הגאון”. לרב גדול בתורה באמת מתארים “מאור הגולה, בקי בכל חדרי התורה”. באמעריקא, ארץ החנופה והשקר, מתארים לכל דרשן פטפטן “הרב המטיף הגדול, פה מפיק מרגליות” ועוד. מגוזמים, מגוחכים עוד יותר תוארי-הכבוד של רביי החסידים: “אד”מור, סבא קדישא, בוצינא קדישא, צדיק יסוד עולם, בנן של קדושים, פרי צדיק, גזע ישישים, פטיש החזק, עמוד הימיני” ועוד ועוד. בעולם הקולטורי נוהגים: כשכותבים מכתב לאדם שקבל התואר Ph.D. מאיזה בית מדעים, מתארים אותו בתואר דר. ודי בזה. אפילו כשכותבים לדר. איינשטיין, לא היה שום אדם כותב: “כבוד הדר. החוזה בכוכבים, נהירין לו שבילי דרקיע” ועוד, דברים שהם ראויים לייחס לו באמת. After seeing what the term “Gaon” has become in our time, it is worth recalling what appears in R. Malachi ha-Kohen, Yad Malachi, Kelalei ha-Geonim 1. If we use the following definition of Gaon, you can count the living geonim on one hand, and perhaps still have some fingers not counted: ושמעתי אומרים שתנאי הגאון היה לידע ש”ס על פה גמ’ ומשניות. The Hatam Sofer states (She’elot u-Teshuvot Hatam Sofer ha- Hadashot, Yoreh Deah no. 33): ידע מעלתו מיום שהורגלו בני מדינתו בתואר “גאון אמיתי”, גילו ופרסמו שסתם גאון אינו אמיתי, אבל חוששני שגם אמיתי אינו אמת. The exaggerated titles are most often found in haskamot, and with this in mind see the haskamah published by Jacob Goldman in his book Peret ve-Olelot (Jerusalem, 1930). This is not the only example of an author giving himself a haskamah (the Aderet comes to mind), but I think it is the only example of an author giving himself a haskamah which tells the world how unqualified he is. 2 See Louis J. Swichkow and Lloyd P. Gartner, The History of the Jews of Milwaukee (Philadelphia, 1963), p. 209. 3 “Willingness to Sacrifice,” Jewish Journal, available here 4 Speaking of editions, I don’t understand why people continue to cite works such as Orot and Orot ha-Kodesh. Now that we are fortunate to have the Shemonah Kevatzim, and can cite R. Kook from the source, why would anyone continue to refer to writings that have been edited, and touched up, by R. Zvi Yehudah and the Nazir? 5 In an earlier post I called attention to Joseph Ibn Caspi’s incredible comments about how we are to treat animals, wherein he notes that “we are very close to them and we both have one father”! See here. Elsewhere in Caspi’s writings we see ambivalence towards eating meat. There too he explains that that an animal is אחינו בן אבינו החי

He also writes עיקר הכוונה שלא נאכל בשר, כי יספיקו לנו הצמחים. ולכן בבראשית לא הותר לנו רק עשב השדה, ואחר המבול נתפשט אכילת בעלי החיים שהוא כאילו נאכל אבינו [!] כי הוא סוגנו [סוג שלנו] הקרוב Both of these sources, from Caspi’s Gevia Kesef, p. 31, and Metzaref le-Kesef, p. 294, are cited in Hannah Kasher, “‘Eikh Yetzavenu ha-Shem La’asot Toevah ka-Zot:’ Bikoret Akedat Yitzhak al pi R. Yosef Ibn Caspi,” Et ha-Da’at 1 (1997), p. 41. For an opposing viewpoint to that of Caspi, see R. Gershon Ashkenazi, Avodat ha-Gershuni, no. 13: צער בעלי חיים לא שייך אלא בבעל חיים כשהוא בחיים חיותו . . . מי שנוחר את הבהמה במקום שיוכל לשחטה אין בזה משום צער בעלי חיים, וכי הבהמה אחינו הוא לברור לה מיתה יפה. R. Zvi Yehudah Kook, Or li-Netivati, pp. 245-246, expresses himself similarly to Caspi: בהשקפת האחדות השלמה לא נראה את עצמנו בתור דבר פרטי מיוחד בפני עצמו, וכן לא את כל אחד ואחד מכל יצורי עולם, לא את החי, לא את הצומח ולא את הדומם, אלא כולם וכולנו דבר אחד ממש. . . לא זה אוכל את זה כי אם הכל אוכל את הכל. For the view, expressed by a couple of rishonim as well as the Aderet, that before his sin Adam was permitted to eat meat, see R. Bezalel Naor, Ma’amar al Yishmael (Spring Valley, 2008), pp. 52ff. (first pagination; there is an enormous amount of learning in this book. In addition, it opens with a Hebrew letter to Naor from Prof. Isadore Twersky.). . 6 In the following section (no. 9 in the Ofen edition and censored from the Merkaz edition for reasons unclear), he offers another possible reason for the continuation of sacrifices: יתכן שימשכו הקורבנות גם בזמן התקופה של השלמת הבעלי חיים רק בתור עזר לתקן הנפשות המגולגלות בבהמות, וכפי המעלה הגדולה של הדעת אז תהי’ הדעת ברורה מי יבוחר לקרבן. 7 Regarding the authority of the Court to uproot a mitzvah from the Torah, see the interesting observation of R. Hayyim Hirschensohn, Commentary to Horayot, vol. 1, p. 3b (Hirschensohn’s numbering): אמר ר’ יוסי לא שהורו מותר לאכל חלב יודעין היו שאסור לאכול חלב והתורה נתנה רשות לב”ד להורות, וזה לא נקרא לדעת הירושלמי עקירת כל הגוף, שטעו שיש כח לב”ד לעקור דבר מן התורה אפילו בקום ועשה, וזה נקרא הגוף קים רק עקירת מקצת, לאמר שאין נצחיות ח”ו לחוקי התורה שיוכל הב”ד לעקרם כרצונם, כדעת רבני הרפארים היום החושבים שמפני צורך הזמן יכולים להתר איסורים מפורשים וקבועים בתורה, ולא נקראים בזה כופרים בעיקר, רק ב”ד טועים ולו הי’ בהם שאר תנאי פר העלם דבר היו חייבים עדת הראפרים בפר העלם דבר. 8 There is another theory as to why the sectarian hasidic world in particular has had so many cases of covering up and defending child sex abusers. It is that they simply do not regard these people as so terrible. The evidence for this appears obvious, in that in case of after case we see that they continue to allow sex abusers to teach and refuse to turn them over to the authorities and warn the parent body. Had they caught the rebbe eating at McDonald’s, you can be sure he would have been fired, but not so when it comes to fooling around with kids. The question is why do they have this outlook, and how come they don’t regard child sex abusers as so terrible? Here is a possible answer (which a wise person suggested). Look at where these societies get their information about human nature, the information that they regard as authentic and true. It does not come from modern psychology, but from Torah sources and folk beliefs. If you look only at traditional rabbinic literature, you won’t conclude that child sex abuse is as terrible as modern society views it. Yes, it is a sin and the person who commits it must repent as he must do with all sins, but there is nothing in the traditional literature that speaks to the great trauma suffered by the victim. How do we know about this trauma? Only from modern psychology and the testimony of the victims. Yet this type of evidence does not have much significance in the insular hasidic world (unless it is your own child who has been abused). Certainly modern psychology, which is often attacked by figures in that community, is not given much credence, especially not when they are confronted with an issur of mesirah. This theory makes a lot of sense to me and I am curious to hear what others have to say.

Kosher Tube: TV Series on the 13 Principles

TV Series on the Thirteen Principles by: Marc B. Shapiro My next post will, God willing, appear after Pesah (in three parts). In the meantime, I wanted to let readers know about the thirteen episodes of a show focusing on the Thirteen Principles. It is called Credo 13 and you can find it here. It appeared on Canadian television and “stars” myself, David Novak. Benjamin Hecht, Shalom Carmy, Eliezer Breitowitz, Mayer Schiller, and Leib Tropper. (If you can’t tolerate, or figure out, the game played by the girls in the show, just fast- forward through that section. Also, for some reason the quality of parts 10-13 is not perfect). I was very impressed with the speakers, in particular Rabbi Breitowitz. Unlike the others, I had never heard of him, and found him to be a very insightful and really wonderful member of the “team”. The one weak link, in my opinion, was Leib Tropper, and I say this without any connection to recent events. Apart from the fact that he speaks as if he is talking to yeshiva bochurim rather than the larger community, there are times when he is simply wrong. For example, what he says in part 8 about the text of the Torah is based on a misunderstanding, and contrast what he says with the perceptive comments of Schiller and Hecht. On this topic, in my book I cited a number of examples of authors who have no knowledge of the history of the Torah text[1] (or perhaps they do have knowledge, but are consciously engaged in the creation of a religious myth). A recent example of this is R. Ezriel Tauber, Pirkei Mahashavah al Yod Gimel Ikarei ha-Emunah (Jerusalem, 2008). This is what he says regarding the text of the Torah (p. 206): עינינו הרואות כי מסורת זו נשמרה בישראל עד לימינו. ואף על פי שכלל ישראל התפזרו לארבע כנפות הארץ, בכל אופן כל ספרי התורה של כל העדות בכל התקופות ובכל המקומות הם בנוסח אחיד, והם זהים. זוהי תופעה מופלאה מאד שלאחר העתקות כה רבות וטלטולים נותרו כל ספרי התורה באותו נוסח. What is one to make of such a statement? Can it be that Tauber really knows so little about this matter? Is he ignorant of a number of famous talmudic passages, of numerous teshuvot of rishonim and aharonim that deal with differences in Torah texts, of the famous comment of R. Akiva Eger? Does he not know anything about the Masoretes, and the work of Rambam, R. Meir ha-Levi Abulafia, R. Menahem Lonzano, and R. Yedidiah Solomon Norzi to establish a correct text? Does he not know that as we speak, the Yemenite text is not identical to the Ashkenazic and Sephardic texts? I don’t for a minute think that Tauber, who is a very learned man, is ignorant of any of this. In fact, elsewhere in his book one finds a different perspective (p. 215): בכל תפוצות ישראל אין הבדל משמעותי בין ספרי התורה Is there any way to explain what Tauber is doing other than assuming that in the first passage I cite he is creating a religious myth, but his true opinion is reflected in the second passage? Perhaps another example of his creation of a religious myth is the following comment, which is designed to illustrate the universal nature of Jewish observance despite the myriad of details in halakhah (p. 216): אם באנו למנות את כל הדינים וההלכות הכלולים בזוג תפילין, נגיע לכשלושים אלף הלכות! Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that this can only in other words, designed to impress , לשון גוזמא be read as and inspire, rather than being factual. Rashbam states (Pesahim 119a): משוי שלש מאות: לאו דוקא וכן כל שלש מאות שבש”ס R. Zvi Hirsch Chajes brings a bunch of other talmudic examples where the number 300 is used in an exaggerated fashion.[2] I think we can say the same thing about the number 30,000 in Rabbi Tauber’s book. With regard to the text of the Torah, in Limits, p. 97 n. 41, in דכה .vs דכא I discussed the different readings of the word Deut. 23:2. I stated that Ashkenazim and Sephardim read it with a heh and Yemenites read it with an aleph. This is also how the matter is described in the responsum of R. Ovadiah Yosef that I refer to in this note. Yet matters are actually more complicated than this. R. Chaim Rapoport informs me that the Chabad practice is to write with an aleph. Furthermore, there was also an old Ashkenazic minhag to write it with an aleph.[3] Right before I was going to post this, S. of On the Main Line asked me if I could make sense of a sentence that appeared in a Yated Neeman article entitled “Letter by Letter: The Story of the Romm Publishing House and the Vilna Shas”, available here. The strange sentence reads: “The first manuscript that the Romm family obtained was Rabbenu Chananel’s commentary which now appears alongside the gemora on many masechtos. The manuscript was kept in the Vatican archives but it had not been well preserved. The pages were very worn and were marked by rust stains, while the edges of the sheets had been eaten away. Moreover, the commentary was written in Latin characters, which made deciphering and copying it much harder.” One doesn’t need to be an expert in Hebrew manuscripts to realize that this is real howler. But S. wondered where they got got the idea that R. Hananel’s commentary was written in Latin characters. Before I was able to examine the matter carefully, Dan replied with the answer. The whole article is taken (and censored) from an earlier article by Shmuel Shraga Feigensohn,[4] as Dan has already shown. See here. As for the information about the Latin characters, Dan points to this passage בראשית שמנו לבנו להעתיק כתב יד פירושו של רבנו חננאל בר חושיאל ז”ל (מימי המאה השמינית לאלף החמישי) על מסכתות רבות מתלמוד בבלי שנמצאו באוצר הספרים שבוואטיקאן ברומי והכתב הוא באותיות רש”י בצורות איטאליאניות [נוסח איטלקי] אשר רוב ישראל בזמננו לא כהלין כתבא דא למקריה What this mean is that the manuscript was written in the Hebrew script popular in Italy, which was not easy for non- Italians read. The anonymous person who wrote this article thought that this referred to Latin characters! (Rashi letters in Latin characters!) When reading this passage I was reminded of another error, this time not by an anonymous Yated writer, but, bi-mehilat kevodo, by Rabban shel Yisrael, R. Moses Isserles. In his responsa, no. 128, he suggests that Rashi’s commentary to the Torah was written in the vernacular, which I assume means French, and only later translated into Hebrew. It is a mystery how he came up with this bizarre idea. R. Asher Siev, in his edition of the responsa, writes about Rama’s suggestion: השערה תמוהה ומיוסדת על סברת עצמו ולא על שום בסיס היסטורי או עובדתי In the subsequent responsum, no. 129, R. Samuel Katzenellenbogen writes to Rama: והס שלא להזכיר שפירוש רש”י לא נעשה בלשון הקדש כאשר כתב אדוני As I noted in an earlier post, it is possible to find at least one strange idea in even the greatest of our sages.

Notes [1] I neglected to cite Yosef Reinman, who writes as follows in One People, Two Worlds, p. 119: [A]n examination of Torah scrolls from all over the world, from Ireland to Siberia to isolated Yemen, all handwritten by scribes, yielded just nine instances of one-letter spelling discrepancies. Nine! And none of them affect the meaning of the text. Why is this so? Because every week we take out the scrolls and read them in public. The people follow the reading closely and if something is wrong, they are quick to point it out.

Unfortunately, Reinman doesn’t realize that it was the invention of printing that unified Torah texts by creating a standard version that soferim could have access to and be guided from. Printed humashim also enabled people listening to the reading to point out errors. Yet let us not forget that most of the differences in Torah scrolls have concerned male and haser. Contrary to Reinman’s implication in his last sentence, there is no way for the people following the reading to catch such an error. I also must point out that Reinman’s first sentence is an egregious error, and one doesn’t need to go to Ireland or Siberia to prove this (and, of course, no one has ever performed such an examination). If one simply takes fifty Torah scrolls from Lakewood one will find all sorts of discrepancies. I know this because the people who check sifrei Torah by computer claim that the overwhelming majority of scrolls they check, including those that have been in use for decades, have contained at least one error. In other words, contrary to what Reinman is statng, the truth of Torah does not rise or fall because of scribal errors. If it did, then we would be in big trouble because as I just mentioned, almost every Torah scroll in the world has discrepancies. What Reinman doesn’t seem to get is that while contemporary halakhic authorities are in dispute about only nine letters, this has nothing to do with the quality of actual Torah scrolls, which are obviously subject to human errors by scribes. For the information on errors in Torah scrolls, including eye- opening pictures, see Kolmos, Elul 5748. Here is part of R. Shmuel Wosner’s letter quoted on p. 7 עכשיו שנכנס עבודת הקאמפיוטער בזה למסלולו, ונתברר על ידו לתמהון לבב כולנו, שמבערך ששים ספרים, ס”ת שהיו בחזקת בדוקים יצאו רק תשע ספרים נקיים מכל שגיאה וברובא דמינכר מאד נמצאו שגיאות פוסלות לרוב. וכן בדידן הוי עובדא בס”ת שנכתב ע”ש תלמידים גדולים וצדיקים שנספו בעו”ה, נמצאו ה’ טעיות ממש בחסר ויתר [2] Mavo ha-Talmud, ch. 30 and his comment to Sotah 34a. For more on rabbinic exaggerations when it comes to numbers, see R. David Yoel Weiss, Megadim Hadashim (Jerusalem, 2008), Berakhot 51b. [3] For details, see R. Yaakov Hayim Sofer in Mekabtziel 35 (Tishrei 5769), p. 124; R. Avihai Yitzhak, Masoret Teman be-Of (Zichron Yaakov, 2009), pp. 188ff. [4] Yahadut Lita (Tel Aviv, 1959), vol. 1, pp. 268-296. See also Feigensohn’s Aharit Davar, at the end of the Romm ed. of Nidda. Update from Dr.Ezra Chwat of the Giluy Milta B’alma blog: R’ Hananel in the Vilna edition employed three manuscripts. Vatican 126/128 covers all of Moe’d. The missing pages at the beginning of 126 (Yoma 2-8) are also missing in print. This is in a clear, undamaged Ashkenazic square hand, perfectly legible even to laymen. More on Vatican 126/128 here: http://nli.org.il/imhm/vaticanhebmss.pdf Pages 91-92. Bava Qama and Bava Metzia are from London BL Add. 27194 (cat. 408), as both include only BQ 2-37 and BM 2-51. This is manuscript slightly less legible. The rest of Neziqin is from Rome, Angelica (not Vatican) 83. The censor’s erasure of 4 lines on fol. 100 (on Sanhedrin 43b), is described in respective daf in Vilna, in the editors footnote. Had the Vilna editors used the BL copy mentioned above, which continues to the end of Nezikin (except for Horiyot), they would not have omitted the page on Sanhedrin 18, which is missing from Angelica (between fols. 81-82), nor the missing line on Sanhedrin 43a, both are copied in BL. This is in Italian semi-cursive hand, slightly more difficult than the others. More on the uncensored Talmud and R’ Hananel on Sanhedrin 43 (of particular interest to Daf yomi participants, coming up, how hauntingly appropriate, this Shabbat Hagadol)Here: http://imhm.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post.html

Elliott Horowitz – “”Most of all you’ve got to hide it from the kids…’ Reading Esther before Bed”

Elliott Horowitz teaches at Bar Ilan University and is co- editor of Jewish Quarterly Review. This is his fourth contribution to the Seforim blog. We hope that you enjoy.

“”Most of all you’ve got to hide it from the kids…’: Reading Esther before Bed”

Elliott Horowitz “The problem of selecting Bible stories for the early grades is an especially difficult one,” wrote Emanuel Gamoran in his introduction to the first volume of Lenore Cohen’s Bible Tales for Very Young Children (2 vols, 1934-36), of which he was the editor. “Not all stories of the Bible are suited to the needs of little children,” continued Gamoran, who was an American Reform rabbi, and a disciple of the pioneer Jewish educator Samson Benderly,[1] “nor should all those children be told them in their entirety. In some instances certain details should be omitted.” In comes as little surprise, then, that in the second volume of Cohen’s Bible Tales the book of Esther contains only a single casualty – the evil Haman, who by the king’s order is hanged on the gallows he had prepared for Mordecai. No mention is made of the death by hanging of Haman’s ten sons, or of the more than 75,000 non-Jews killed, with the king’s permission, by Mordecai’s coreligionists. This was clearly one of those instances in which, according to Rabbi Gamoran, “certain details should be omitted.” The identical omissions had been made three years earlier in a biblical anthology for children The( Children’s Bible: Selections from the Old and New Testaments) whose contents were “translated and arranged” by two distinguished non-Jews: Henry Sherman, who headed the “department of religious literature” at Charles Scribner’s Sons, which published the book, and Charles Foster Kent, who, as indicated on the frontispiece, was “Woolsey Professor of Biblical Literature in Yale University.”[2] The same editorial policy had earlier been followed by the American children’s writer Frances Jenkins Olcott (1873-1967) in her delightful Bible Stories to Read and Tell, published by Blue Ribbon Books in 1916. Cohen and Gamoran, then, followed a venerable tradition in saving their “very young” readers from any knowledge of the sad fate of Haman’s sons. Yet they could arguably have followed the model of their British coreligionist Mrs. Philip Cohen in her two-volume Bible Readings with My Children (2nd ed., 1899). In her retelling of the book of Esther she acknowledged that not only Haman, but also his “ten sons were hanged on the gallows which their father had set up for Mordecai.”[3] Moreover, unlike Frances Olcott, who omitted mention of the permission given the Jews by Ahasuerus to defend themselves, and Messrs. Sherman and Kent, who included “the king’s “command that the Jews who were in every city should gather together and protect their lives,” but said nothing about the consequences thereof, Mrs. Cohen felt that it was safe to tell children that “the Jews, in defending themselves, killed numbers of their enemies.” Mrs. Cohen’s justly popular anthology went through several editions, the fourth of which appeared in London in 1923. In that same year the future (but now lamented) Bible scholar Nahum Sarna was born in London. Not surprisingly, it was from that anthology that he acquired his earliest knowledge of Scripture. Reminiscing decades later about how he came to devote his life “to the study and teaching of the Hebrew Bible,” Sarna, then recently retired from Brandeis University, recalled that among his “earliest and most agreeable recollections is my father reading to me every Shabbat, with unfailing regularity from a little two-volumed work entitled Bible Readings with my Children by a Mrs. Philip Cohen. I am not certain, but I believe I was about three years old when the regimen began.”[4] II Bible Readings with my Children was not the first such anthology produced for Jewish children in Victorian England. Already in 1877 Ellis Davidson had published The Bible Reader under the explicit “sanction” of Britain’s Chief Rabbi Nathan Marcus Adler.[5] It was intended, as its subtitle indicated for the Use of Jewish Schools and Families, With the Addition of Questions on the Text, and Moral Reflections on Each Chapter. Davidson’s Bible Reader contained material from the popular book of Esther, but not much from the book’s brutal ending. Thus, anticipating Sherman and Kent’s Children’s Bible of 1930 readers were informed of the permission granted the Jews by Ahasuerus “to destroy, to slay, and to annihilate any armed force…that might attack them, with their children and their women,” but learned nothing of the consequences of that permission. Davidson did find a way to include the deaths of Haman’s sons, which both the Children’s Bible and Frances Olcott’s earlier Bible Stories later chose to omit, but he did so at the cost of changing the biblical story. They “were slain in battle,” and only afterwards hanged, wrote Davidson, “to show the people how utterly the whole house of Haman was degraded, and in order that future assaults might be prevented.”[6] During the 1890’s two graduates of Oxford, each of whom had been at Balliol College when it was headed by the legendary Benjamin Jowett (1817-93), brought out their own biblical anthologies intended – at least in part – for young readers. The first of these to appear was John William Mackail’s Biblia Innocentium: Being the Story of God’s Chosen People Before the Coming of Our Lord…upon Earth, Written Anew for Children (1892). Mackail (1859-1945), who was born on the Isle of Bute and whose father was a minister of the Scottish Free Church, had overlapped as an undergraduate at Balliol with Claude Montefiore (1858-1938), who was a great nephew of the renowned Sir Moses. It is likely that they knew each other, since neither – unlike the bulk of their classmates – was an Anglican product of a posh “public school.” Both were also among the college’s most distinguished students; achieving “firsts” in the demanding course of study known as Greats (Literae Humaniores) in which their classmate George Nathaniel Curzon (a former Etonian and future viceroy of India) received only a “second.”[7] In 1896 Montefiore, who was presumably familiar with Mackail’s Biblia Innocentium (which had appeared in a second edition in 1893) brought his Bible for Home Reading (1896), a two-volume anthology “with comments and reflections for the use of Jewish parents and their children. ” In certain respects Montefiore’s anthology followed the limitations that both his coreligionist Davidson and his former classmate Mackail had imposed upon themselves. No mention was made, for example, of the rape of Dinah in Genesis 34 or the subsequent massacre perpetrated by her brothers in Shechem. Yet with regard to the book of Esther Montefiore took a diametrically different approach. Whereas both previous Victorian anthologies, the one Jewish and the other Christian, had informed their readers of the permission granted the Jews to defend themselves but not of the bloody consequences thereof, Montefiore decided to include all the chpaters of Esther in their entirety despite what he acknowledged as the “religious and moral deficiencies.” These, he claimed, had been “ignored or explained away” by some, but also “exaggerated and falsely labelled” by others.” The best solution, he believed was to let readers, young and old, judge for themselves. There were other ways of dealing with the book’s “religious and moral deficiencies” when presenting its contents to young readers. In his Story of the Bible: first published in 1904, Jesse Lyman Hurlbut (1843-1930), a Methodist Episcopal clergyman, reported not only that “Haman died upon the gallows that he made for Mordecai, but also that his sons “were put to death for their father’s evildoing.” He added, however, that this had been done “according to the cruel usage of those times.”[8] In contrast to Ellis Davidson’s clumsy attempt, in 1877, to make the hanging of Haman’s sons more palatable to his younger readers, Hurlbut, a native of New York, showed that it was possible to add without detracting. Notes: [1] On both Gamoran and Benderly, see Penny Schine Gold, Making the Bible Modern: Children’s Bibles and Jewish Education in Twentieth-Century America (Ithaca, 2004). [2] H. A. Sherman and and C. F. Kent, The Children’s Bible (New York, 1933), 223-25. [3] Mrs. Philip Cohen, Bible Readings with my Children, two volumes (rev. ed. London, 1899), II, 336. [4] Nahum Sarna, “Ruminations of a Jewish Bible Scholar,” Bible Review 4:3 (June 1988). See also the obituary by Tom Long in the Boston Globe (25 June 2005). [5] On Davidson, see Geoffrey Cantor, “‘From nature to nature’s God’: Ellis A. Davidson—mid-Victorian educator, moralist, and consummate Designer,”Jewish History 23:4 (December 2009): 263-388. [6] On Davidson’s work and its treatment of the book of Esther, see Elliott Horowitz, Reckless Rites: Purim and the Legacy of Jewish Violence (2nd ed., Princeton, 2008), 24. [7] On Montefiore at Balliol and the impact on the college of Jowett, see Horowitz, Reckless Rites, 25, and the sources cited there. [8] Hurlbut, Story of the Bible: For Young and Old (Philadelphia, 1952). Woe Is Unto Whom?

Woe Is Unto Whom? Christian Censorship of a Sugya in Berachos 3a (or What Was Bothering the Censor II)

By: David Zilberberg I. A Censored Text in Berachos 3a The Vilna Edition of Berachos 3a states as follows: אמר רב יצחק בר שמואל משמי’ דרב ג’ משמרות הוי הלילה ועל כל משמר ומשמר יושב הקב”ה ושואג כארי ואומר אוי לבנים שבעונותיהם החרבתי את ביתי ושרפתי את היכלי והגליתים לבין אומות העולם The identical statement is cited by R. Yose in a Braisa that follows the above-cited section. The Braisa records the story of R. Yose’s visit to a ruin in Jerusalem to pray and his subsequent conversation with Eliyahu HaNavi upon leaving the ruin. At the end of the conversation, Eliyahu haNavi asks R. Yose whether he heard a “kol” in the ruin. R. Yose responds as follows: ואמרתי לו שמעתי בת קול שמנהמת כיונה ואומרת אוי לבנים שבעונותיהם החרבתי את ביתי ושרפתי את היכלי והגליתים לבין האומות The meaning of the statement reported by R. Yitzchak bar Shmuel and R. Yose seems straightforward: God is expressing the magnitude of the Jewish people’s loss. And, by attributing this loss to the nation’s own sins and repeating this statement on a regular, thrice-nightly, basis, the statement serves as a constant reminder to the nation that their loss is their own fault.[1] While an element of rebuke is not explicit in the statement, it dwells right beneath the surface. However, as noted in Dikdukei Soferim, the version of the statement appearing in the Vilna edition is incorrect. The version of the sugya that appears in all extant manuscripts (at least those available on the JNUL online repository),[2] the earliest printings of the Talmud and various Rishonim who .”לבנים שבעונותיהם“ cite it, does not include the phrase Thus, in the Munich and the Firenze manuscripts and in citations to the sugya in the Menoras Hamaor (which is cited in the Dikdukei Soferim), and the Kuzari,[3] the statement reads: אוי לי שהחרבתיאת ביתי ושרפתי את היכלי והגליתים לבין אומות העולם Early Talmud printings (e.g., Soncino, Bomberg), the Rosh, Rav Hai Gaon and Rabbenu Chananel have it slightly differently:

אוי שהחרבתי את ביתי ושרפתי את היכלי והגליתים לבין אומות העולם

The Paris manuscript follows the Munich and Firenze version in the story of R. Yose and follows the (”אוי לי שהחרבתי“) .in the statement of Rav (”אוי שהחרבתי“) Soncino version Similarly, the Tosafist R’ Moshe Taku, in Kesav Tamim, cites both versions. Either alternative has a profoundly different meaning than the Vilna version.[4] A statement casting blame at the nation for their exile becomes a statement of divine mourning or regret. Dikdukei Soferim explains the change as follows: ובד׳ בסיליאה (של״ט) שינהו הצענזור וממנו בדפוסים האחרונים Thus, the original text was changed in the notorious Basel edition of the Talmud at the behest of the Christian censors, and this change was retained in subsequent versions.[5] Why was this statement censored? What did the censors find objectionable about the original version? II. Overview of Christian Censorship of the Talmud and the Basel Edition To answer this question, it would be useful to briefly outline the history of censorship of the Talmud by the Church. According to William Popper’s The Censorship of Hebrew Books, from the time it was first committed to writing until the High Middle Ages, the text of the Talmud survived in manuscript form relatively undisturbed by outside scrutiny. The first significant efforts against the Talmud occurred in 13th Century France. These efforts, spearheaded by Jewish apostates, culminated in the the burning of thousands of volumes of Hebrew books in the 1230s and 1240s. Similar but less extreme efforts were taken against the Talmud in Spain as well. The Golden Age of Hebrew printing that developed in Italy in the late 15th century was abruptly ended by a “golden age” of censorship. Within years of the invention of the printing press, Italy quickly became the center of Hebrew printing. In 1483, Gershom Soncino set up a printing press, and only a year later published Masekhes Berachos. While this volume was not the first printed Talmud, it established the classic tzuras hadaf that has become synonymous with Talmud study until today. During the first half of the 16th century, other Italian printers published volumes of the Talmud, including Daniel Bomberg, who published multiple editions of the Talmud including at least one complete set. These early printed editions encountered little interference by the Christian authorities. In fact, the Bomberg edition was printed with the permission of Pope Leo X (this is not to say that the printers did not engage in self-censorship). Starting in the end of 15th century, the Church, concerned about the ease with which the written word could now be disseminated unimpeded throughout the Christian world, began to take measures to regulate the publishing industry. The focus of these efforts was initially on books designed for Christian readers. However, as these measures became stricter, they ultimately focused on Hebrew books. In 1550, the events of 13th Century France began to replay themselves in Italy. Accusations against the Talmud by several apostates led to a renewal of anti-Talmud sentiment and ultimately to decrees directing the burning of the Talmud and prohibitions against possessing it. The Talmud benefitted from a reprieve in 1563, when the Council of Trent modified the ban against the Talmud to allow its printing as long as it was renamed (to Gemara) and the “calumnies and insults to the Christian religion” were removed. However, this limited dispensation was not exploited for many years, most likely because the risk of printing even an expurgated Talmud was deemed too great to justify the financial investment. Finally, in 1578, a printer in Basel, Switzerland decided to print a version of the Talmud that would be acceptable to the Church and hired two well known figures with solid censorship credentials — Marco Marino, the papal inquisitor of Venice, and Pierre Chevallier of Geneva — for the task.[6] The Talmud that produced in Basel was a thoroughly butchered work that was considered an utter abomination by the Jewish community. In the words of R. Rabinowitz in Ma’amar al Hadpasas Hatalmud: ובמגינת לב ודאבון נפש ראו היהודים את התלמוד אשר הוא חיי רוחם וכל מעיינם בו נתון למרמם ביד הצענזור אשר שם בה שמות ופרעות ולזרה היה הדפוס הוה בעיניהם Certain words were systematically replaced, sections were removed or changed and “explanatory” notes were added. The entirety of Maseches Avodah Zara was omitted. Most shocking were the notes added to Maseches Bava Metzia. An example is the following amud:

The marginal note in the lower left hand corner is a comment on a derasha regarding the purity of a person upon entry into this world. Although difficult to read in the image posted above, Ma’amar cites the text of the note as follows: רוצה לומר שהאדם בביאתו לעוה״ז עדיין לא חטא בעצמו ואמנם לפי אמונת הנוצרים הכל נולדים בעון אדם הראשון כדכ‘ ובחטא יחמתני אמי There you have it – the Christian doctrine of Original Sin on a blatt Gemara. As unconscionable as these notes are, any harm they did was short term. These changes were both clearly gratuitous and easy enough for printers to spot. Accordingly they were removed (for the most part) in later printings. The changes to the text of the Talmud itself were more pernicious because not only were they harder for printers to identify, printers of the 17th and 18th century were content with sticking with a text that passed muster rather than risking problems with the censors by reverting to the pre-Basel text. III. Explaining the Work of the Censors Our original questions remains: what did the censors find objectionable about our sugya? It should be noted at the outset that it is impossible to determine definitively the reasoning of the censors. The censors left no detailed notes explaining the basis for their decisions. In addition, the censorship of the Basel Talmud, and Hebrew books more generally, was not systematic or consistent. Many have pointed out the almost comical examples of censorship revealing the utter incompetence of certain censors, who for example, indiscriminately replaced certain without regard to ”אדום“ or ”גוי“ buzzwords” such as“ context. In addition, identical or near identical texts that appeared in multiple places received different treatment by the Basel censors for no apparent reason other then lack of diligence (or perhaps due to the use of two censors).[7] Thus, any attempt to divine why a particular change was made involves a bit of guesswork. A. Anthropomorphism Some scholars have suggested that the censors objected to the anthropomorphic nature of the original version’s portrayal of a sorrowful or regretful God, as it were.[8] However, this reason appears to be incomplete. The first Chapter of Berakhos is replete of anthropomorphic statements. God wears Tefillin, God davens and God asks for a blessing from the Kohen Gadol. All of these statements escaped the scrutiny of the censors. Anthropomorphism, it would seem, didn’t always bother them. While it might be argued that expressions of regret or sorrow by God was a form of anthropomorphism more troubling to the censor then other “garden variety” forms of anthropomorphism, I find this reasoning unsatisfactory.[9]

B. Supersessionsism A hint at what I believe is the true reason for the change in our text is found in a book called Sefer HaZikuk. This book was printed in different versions at various times but its purpose was the same: to provide the censors with Hebrew language guidance (which, because the censors were apostates, for the most part, was the only language they could read) as to what kind of passages were considered contrary to Church doctrine. A. M. Haberman quotes a number of the guidelines printed in one of the versions of the book.[10] Among these guidelines is: כל מקום שאומר, שהקב”ה מצטער על אבדן של ישראל, ימחק לגמרי The censored passage in Berachos 3a fits this guideline precisely. Note that this book was not used by the censors of the Basel Talmud – it was written after the printing of the Basel Talmud. However, Haberman states that this book was based on the censorship standards used for the Basel Talmud. Accordingly, it provides a strong hint as to the kind of concern this passage likely raised with the Church and why it was changed. While the Sefer Hazikuk doesn’t answer our original question, it certainly points us in the right direction. Why would an expression of divine “pain” over the Churban be objectionable? The answer would appear to be supersessionism. Supersessionism is (or at least was) a central tenet of Church doctrine. It aims to explain the status of various Divine promises to and covenants with the Jewish people contained in Tanach in light of the New Testament. The basic idea is that these promises were superseded by a new covenant with the followers of the Christian faith because the Jews failed to live up to their obligations. Thus, the destruction of the Temple and the exile and persecution of the Jewish people is a fulfillment of Church teachings. The notion of Divine lament or pain over these events is therefore a direct affront to this brand of Christian theology – if God “replaced” the Jews due to their failures with a new people and a new covenant why would he lament or feel pain over the rejection of the Jews or the destruction of the Temple that facilitated His relationship with them? Supersessionism not only explains the “offensiveness” of the original text, but the rationale for the revised text as well.[11] While many cases of censorship merely show the ignorance of the censor, the censorship of the passage before us should actually deepen our understanding of it. What set off alarms in the minds of Medieval Church officials should likewise signal to us that the sugya is not merely a puzzling anthropomorphic statement attributing emotions to God but, but an implicit affirmation of God’s relationship with the Jewish people.[12] In fact, this is the precisely the interpretation offered by R. Avraham Yitzchak HaCohen Kook in his commentary on our sugya in Ayn Ayah: III. A Note Regarding Recent Talmud Printings It’s troubling enough that censored passages continued to be retained in nearly all printings of the Talmud over the several hundred years after the Basel Talmud. But what is completely unconscionable is that many of theMifuar “ ” reprintings of the Talmud in recent years have retained these passages as well, including certain editions that boast of teams of editors exerting painstaking effort to fix the text. Most puzzling is the English Schottenstein edition of Berachos which not only retains the censored text and fails to note the correct original text, but includes a note providing a commentary on the censored text: Accordingly, the statement “Woe to the children because of whose sins I destroyed My Temple…” may be meant to convey that since it is only because of our sins that the Temple was destroyed and our people were scattered among the nations, it is only because of our failure to repent them that the Temple continues to lie in ruins and we remain scattered among the nations. God, however, yearns for our repentance and if only we will cry out to Him in anguish and repent over our sins and return to Him, He will surely restore us to our land and rebuild the Holy Temple. While the notion that we can extract important lessons from texts written by medieval Christian censors is somewhat peculiar, it is ironic that the explanation somehow manages to retain the hopeful message of the original uncensored text. Thankfully, the Hebrew Schottenstein edition, as well as the Oz v’Hadar and Steinsaltz editions, include the original texts in footnotes. We are blessed to live in a society where we benefit from nearly absolute freedom of religion. All sorts of expression — even the most vile, hateful and offensive sorts – receive broad protection under law. Why do we continue to print and study editions of the Talmud marred by the fingerprints of the 16th Century Catholic Church? Notes [1] The statement is echoed a third time later in the sugya but with somewhat different wording. This post does not directly address this statement, although much of what is said here may apply to it. [2] The JNUL repository shows three manuscripts of the sugya: Munich, Firenze and Paris. [3] Saul Lieberman notes that this version of the text also appears in several anti-Talmud polemical texts by Christians and Karaites. Shki’in at 69-70. Lieberman demonstrates that (contra other scholars) these polemic works are valuable and trustworthy sources of Hebrew texts. [4] More about the difference between the two alternatives below. [5] Notably, the Firenze manuscript itself reflects the work of the censor. Here is the relevant portion of our sugya below. As you can see, a censor sought to remove the text under review and a later scribe apparently sought to reinsert it. According to this, this manuscript was censored in Florence in 1472. See below for another example of the expurgation of the passage: This is an image of an expurgated version of the first page of Ein Yaakov (renamed “Ein Yisrael” due to the listing of Ein Yaakov on the Index Librorum Prohibitorum) taken from the Printing the Talmud website. [6] See Stephen G. Burnett, The Regulation of Hebrew Printing in Germany, 1555-1630: Confessional Politics and the Limits of Jewish Toleration (available here) for background regarding the printing of the Basel Talmud. [7] Although not quite a parallel text, Chagiga 5b includes identical themes to the uncensored version of our sugya, namely, God mourning, as it were, over the persecution of the Jews and nonetheless appears in the Basel edition unscathed. [8] Popper, Censorship at 59; Nehemia Polen, Modern Judaism, Vol. 7, No. 3 (Oct., 1987), “Divine Weeping: Rabbi Kalonymos Shapiro’s Theology of Catastrophe in the Warsaw Ghetto” at n. 18. [9] While I am no expert on Christian censorship or Christian theology, I don’t understand why the Catholic Church would find expressions of anthropomorphism a basis for censorship. In fact, the use of the uncensored version of this passage and others like it in anti-Talmud polemical texts discussed by Lieberman would seem inconsistent with this argument. Presumably, these texts sought to ridicule and belittle the Talmud based on the anthropomorphism of the passage. Why would anthropomorphism become a reason for Christians to censor these passages a few centuries later? [10] A. M. Habermann, The Oral Law During the Manuscript Era and the Publishing Era, available here. [11] Credit for this insight goes to my clinical psychologist wife Penina whose prowess apparently extends to long dead church officials. [12] Significantly, the Rosh and Rabenu Chananel, both of whom interpret ,”לי“ had the version of the sugya without the word the expression of woe as applying to the wicked (i.e., that due to the their misdeeds, God is compelled, as it were, to punish the Jewish nation) rather than God Himself. This less radically anthropomorphic interpretation brings the original version of the text (at least the version that the Rosh and the Rabenu Chananel had) closer in line to the Basel text. One can speculate that this line of interpretation provided a rabbinic basis for retaining the Basel text. However, this understanding cannot explain the version of the sugya in the thereby ,”לי“ extant manuscripts, which employ the word clearly attributing the expression of woe to God Himself. It should be noted that Lieberman asserts that the “correct” based on the prevalence of ”לי“version of the text includes this version in the manuscripts and in anti-Talmud polemical is an ”לי“ tracts. He speculates that the removal of the word example of Jewish self-censorship resulting from discomfort with the radical anthropomorphism of the original text. Shki’in at 70. The Letter of the Maharal on the Creation of the Golem

The Letter of the Maharal on the Creation of the Golem: A Modern Forgery

By: Shnayer Leiman

For a related post by Dr. Leiman see “Did a Disciple of the Maharal Create a Golem.”

I. Introduction

In 1923, Chaim Bloch (1881-1973), noted author and polemicist,1published a letter of the Maharal (d. 1609) that was previously unknown to all of Jewish literature.2 The letter, dated 1582 (or more precisely: Tuesday of parshat va- yera, [5]343), was addressed to R. Jacob Günzberg (d. 1615), Chief Rabbi of Friedberg in Hesse.3 Rich in content, the letter provides a lengthy and detailed account of why it was necessary for the Maharal to create a Golem, how he went about doing it, and the precise spiritual, psychological, and halakhic status of the created Golem. Bloch assured his readers that the letter was published from an original copy in his possession. In order to quell any doubts, he reproduced a facsimile of the Maharal’s autograph, as it appeared on the original letter.4

Bloch did not provide much detail about the letter’s whereabouts for the more than 300 years it apparently had been withdrawn from circulation and unknown. He thanks Rabbi Samuel Neuwirth of Vienna for his efforts in acquiring the letter and handing it over to Bloch for publication. Given that it was published together with a series of hasidic documents (including letters of the Baal Shem Tov), allegedly recovered from East European archives that had been plundered during World War I and its aftermath, the impression one has is that the Maharal letter belonged to these archives as well – though this is never explicitly stated by Bloch.5 In 1931, R. Yitzchok Eizik Weiss (d. 1944), the Spinka Rebbe,6 published the very same letter of the Maharal (without any mention of the prior Bloch publication) based upon — what he believed to be — an original manuscript in his possession. He appended it to the posthumous publication of his Although he gave no . אמרי יוסף על המועדיםfather’s 7 indication as to when or how the letter came into his hands, two witnesses provide us with some interesting detail.

The first witness, R. Yitzchok Weiss (d. 1942), Chief a book written primarily ,אלף כתב Rabbi of Kadelburg,8 in his between 1927 and 1939 but published posthumously in 1997, includes the following entry: The Gaon and Zaddik of Spinka informed me on Monday of [parshat] Hukkat-Balak, 7 Tammuz, 5682 [= 1922], that a manuscript written by the hand of the Maharal of Prague came into his possession. In it, he responded to R. Jacob Günzberg about the making of the Golem, how and why it was done, and whether the Golem will be included in the resurrection of the dead.9

Thus, we know that the letter reached the Spinka Rebbe no later than the beginning of July in 1922.

The second witness, R. Samuel Weingarten (d. 1987), noted scholar of Hungarian Jewry and religious Zionist,10 reported that he was present at the home of R. Hayyim Eleazar Shapira (d. 1937), the Munkatcher Rebbe, circa 1922-23, when two of the sons of the Spinka Rebbe [R. Yitzchok Eizik Weiss], R. Naftoli and R. Yisrael Hayyim, approached the Munkatcher Rebbe with a query. They carefully removed a manuscript from a large envelope and asked the Rebbe to examine it. It was a handwritten letter signed by the Maharal of Prague and it dealt with the creation of the Golem. They explained that a soldier who had been taken captive at the Russian front during the World War, and who had participated in the looting of government archives during the Russian revolution, had brought the letter to their father and was prepared to sell it to him for a stiff price. Since the Spinka Rebbe was not expert in Hebrew manuscripts, he sought the advice of the Munkatcher Rebbe. The latter examined the manuscript carefully for some fifteen minutes. He then asked that a magnifying glass be brought and he re-examined the manuscript. He concluded that it was worthless; it was a forgery. The sons thanked the rabbi and went on their way with the manuscript.11

In 1969, the very same letter of the Maharal was published once again by R. Zvi Elimelech Kalush of Bnei Brak.12 The title page of the volume assures the reader that the text of the letter was copied from the “original handwritten holy manuscript” penned by the Maharal of Prague himself. Kalush admits that he is simply reprinting the text published by the Indeed, Kalush’s text .אמרי יוסף Spinka Rebbe in his father’s incorporates all the misreadings and printers’ errors of the and, as often happens אמרי יוסף text as it appeared in the when type is reset, adds several new printers’ errors as well.13

Since the letter is often reprinted and quoted as an authentic letter of the Maharal, it is probably useful to list some of the reasons that led the Munkatcher Rebbe and others14 to declare that it is a forgery. In order to facilitate discussion of the evidence, the full text of the letter is printed below, with each line identified by number.

II. Letter of the Maharal15

III. Evidence of Forgery16

:The 1931 edition reads correctly ושלום :p. 86, l. 2 חיים שלום וברכה As an epistolary formula, the phrase .והשלום (and its variations) does not appear in Jewish literature prior to the eighteenth century. אל כבוד As an epistolary formula, the phrase אל כבוד יד”נ does not occur in Jewish literature prior to the יד”נ eighteenth century. first כבוד קדושת שם תפארתו This abbreviation for כקש”ת appears in Jewish literature in the eighteenth century.

The 1931 edition reads בשנת השלום (בו?) לפ”ק :p. 87, l. 6 ,Thus, according to the Letter .בשנת ה’ של”ב לפ”ג :correctly Maharal was appointed Rabbi of Prague in 1572. According to the historical sources, the Maharal was appointed Rosh Yeshiva of Prague in 1573. His appointment as Rabbi of Prague came many years later. p. 87, l. 8: The Maharal is depicted throughout the letter as devoting all his energies to countering the blood libel in Prague. There is no historical evidence – Jewish or Christian – of a charge of blood libel in Prague during the lifetime of the Maharal. p. 87, l. 12: Cardinal Johann Sylvester is described here as the leading Christian authority in Prague. No cardinal by that name served in Prague or, for that matter, anywhere else in Christian Europe. For a list of the cardinals who functioned in Prague, see Hierarchia Catholica Medii Aevi 3(1920), pp. 297-354; 4(1935), p. 288; and 5(1952), p. 323; and cf. A. Frind, Die Geschichte der Bischoefe und Erzbischoefe von Prag, Prague, 1873, pp. 178-249. p. 87, l. 27: An anti-Semitic priest and rogue in sixteenth century Prague by the name of Thaddeus is unknown to all of Jewish and Christian literature prior to the twentieth century. used here in the sense of ,יהודים חשוכים בדעתם :p. 87, l. 28 “unenlightened Jews,” is a usage found only in modern Hebrew literature. p. 88, l. 4: Rudolph II is described here as serving as King of Bohemia in 1572-3. In fact, Maximilian II served as King of Bohemia and Holy Roman Emperor in 1572-3. It is surprising that the Maharal confused these two kings with each other. p. 88, l. 6: The Maharal reports that he was summoned for an audience with King Rudolph in 1573. Aside from the fact that Rudolph was not in office at the time, the Maharal met with Rudolph only once – in 1592. See the testimony of the ,ed. M. Breuer ,צמח דוד ,Maharal’s disciple, R. David Gans Jerusalem, 1983, p. 145. Since this letter was allegedly written and sent to R. Jacob Günzberg in 1583, the confusion here is astonishing. refers to the Moldau River, today the מולדווקא :p. 89, l. 7 Vltava River. It is surprising that the Maharal was unaware of the correct spelling for this river in Hebrew – an essential ingredient for the writing of legally valid divorce documents. שלחן ערוך In the commentaries to the standard editions of the It is even more surprising that .מולטאit is always spelled 17 the Maharal was unaware of the fact that the Moldau flows through the center of the city of Prague, and not on the “outskirts of the city” (see line 6). p. 90, I. 21-22: Maharal here refers to the permutations and combinations of the Hebrew letters that enable one to create a Golem, as they appear in the printed editions of Sefer Yetzirah. Alas, no such permutations and combinations appeared in any of the printed editions of Sefer Yetzirah until 1883 Przemysl, 1883).18 ,פירוש הר”א גרמיזא על ספר יצירה) .a watch or clock ,כלי המ”ש = כלי המורה שעות :p. 91, l. 20 This term first entered Hebrew in the nineteenth century. in the sense of “machine” entered Hebrew מכונה :p. 91, l. 25 in the modern period. p. 94, l. 9: The signature reads: Judah, dubbed Leib, son of R. Bezalel. In fact, the Maharal never signed his name in this ,המהר”ל מפראג: חייו תקופתו ותורתו ,manner. See A. Gottesdiener Jerusalem, 1976, pp. 19 and 29.

IV. Comments We have hardly exhausted the evidence – historical and linguistic – that can be adduced in order to prove that Bloch’s Letter of the Maharal is a forgery. The cumulative evidence is sufficiently overwhelming that there is really no point in adducing more of the same. Suffice to say that anyone familiar with the syntax and vocabulary of the authentic, published writings of the Maharal will recognize instantly that the Letter of the Maharal is a crude forgery. What remains to be investigated is the identity of the forger. Who forged the letter of the Maharal? When was it forged? Why was it forged? While we cannot provide answers to these questions (due to our ignorance), the following comments may prove useful for others who wish to do so. 1. Much of the material in the Letter of the Maharal was ,נפלאות מהר”ל borrowed directly from R. Yudel Rosenberg’s Piotrkow, 1909.19 Clearly, the Letter of the Maharal is It is unclear whether both .נפלאות מהר”ל dependent upon documents came from the same hand, or whether the Letter of Maharal was an independent work. Either way, the Letter of the Maharal may have been a forgery done in order to “prove” the by providing the original נפלאות מהר”ל authenticity of manuscript of the Letter, together with the signature of the Maharal. It would have been much too cumbersome to provide a נפלאות forged manuscript of the entire text of Rosenberg’s .מהר”ל 20 2. It is noteworthy that the Letter of the Maharal was not included in, or even mentioned by, Chaim Bloch in his נפלאות מהר”לreworking and expansion of R. Yudel Rosenberg’s 18 This suggests that the Letter first reached Bloch sometime after 1919, i.e. after he had published his final version of the Golem stories. 3. I am not aware of any evidence that either suggests or proves that Bloch – despite his predilection for forgery21 – forged the Letter of the Maharal. It is perhaps more likely that the forger of the Kherson Geniza (see note 5) was responsible for the forged Letter of the Maharal.

One matter, however, deserves further attention. Bloch, after all, published a facsimile of the Maharal’s signature. Precisely for that reason the publishers of the later editions, misled by the signature, stress the fact that the In 2009, the .בכתב יד קדשו Letter of the Maharal was written four hundredth yahrzeit of the Maharal was commemorated throughout the world. Those commemorations have yielded a remarkable volume, recently published in Prague. Entitled Path of Life: Rabbi Judah Loew ben Bezalel, the opening pages include a genuine facsimile of the Maharal’s signature.22 Here is the Maharal’s signature as published by Bloch:

Here is the Maharal’s signature in the recently published Path of Life:23

Quod erat demonstrandum!

In sum, the Letter of the Maharal is a modern forgery. It should not and cannot be cited as evidence relating to the Maharal, the Golem, or any of the events that occurred in the sixteenth century. It is a twentieth century document that was probably forged sometime between 1909 and 1922. At best, it sheds light (or: darkness) on what Jewish forgers were thinking and doing during the first quarter of the twentieth century. NOTES

-Vienna ,מדינה וחכמיה ,See the entries on Bloch in G. Bader 1 New York, 1934, p. 40; I. Landman, ed., Universal Jewish Encyclopedia, New York, 1940, vol. 2, p. 396; and M. Wunder, .Jerusalem, 1978, vol. 1, cols. 502-506 (and vol ,מאורי גליציה 6, col. 213). It is unconscionable that no entry on Bloch appears in either edition of the Encyclopaedia Judaica. Bloch was a prolific author and an astute polemicist who contributed significantly to a variety of Jewish topics, including folklore, apologetics, and anti-Zionist sentiment. A biography and intellectual history of Bloch remains a scholarly desideratum. .Vienna, 1923, pp ,קובץ מכתבים מקוריים מהבעש”ט ותלמידיו זי”ע 2 86-94. ,תולדות משפחות גינצבורג ,On R. Jacob Günzberg, see D. Maggid 3 St. Petersburg, 1899, pp. 12-13. It is unclear when Günzberg was appointed Rabbi of Friedberg. R. Man Todros Spira served as Rabbi of Friedberg until circa 1582. He was succeeded by R. Samuel b. Eliezer, who was succeeded by Günzberg. See A. Kober, “Documents Selected From the Pinkas of Friedberg, a Former City in Western Germany,” PAAJR 17(1947), pp. 28-29. 4 See below for the facsimile of the signature. In fairness to Bloch, it should be noted that he equivocated somewhat as to whether the document was an original or a copy. On the title page of the volume, and under the facsimile of the signature itself, he clearly implied that the letter and the signature were originals, not copies. Toward the end of the Introduction to the volume, however, Bloch describes the manuscript as ancient, difficult to read, and “ascribed to the Maharal.” Indeed, he invites his scholarly audience to determine whether or not the autograph is authentic. 5 The hasidic documents allegedly recovered from East European archives are known in scholarly circles as the Kherson Geniza. The Kherson Geniza has generated a rich literature, too cumbersome to be listed here. Some of the more אגרות בעל התניא ובני ,important discussions are: D.Z. Hilman ”,גניזת חרסון“ ,Jerusalem, 1953, pp. 240-272; Y. Raphael ,דורו ”,די כערסאנער גניזה“ ,Sinai 81(1977), pp. 129-150; B. Schwartz Der Yid , November 2 – December 28, 1984; A. Rapoport-Albert, “Hagiography with Footnotes,” History and Theory 27(1988), pp. ספר הזכרון לרבי משה in ”,הוי גוי חוטא“ ,H. Liberman ;119-159 New York, 1996, pp. 139-140; and M. Rosman, Founder of ,ליפשיץ Hasidism, Berkeley, 1996, pp. 123-125. 6 See Tzvi M. Rabinowicz, Encyclopedia of Hasidism, Northvale, 1996, pp. 534-535. Vranov, 1931 (reissued: New ,אמרי יוסף על המועדים, חלק ב׳ 7 York, 1969 and 1990). 8 Kadelburg, also known as Karlburg, Oroszvar, and Rusovce, was some 11 kilometers southeast of Pressburg (= Bratislava). .Jerusalem, 1997, pp ,חכמי הונגריה ,On Weiss, see Y.Y. Cohen 460-461. .Bnei Brak, 1997, vol. 2, p. 47 ,אלף כתב 9 ,אנציקלופדיה של הציונות הדתית See the entry on him in 10 Jerusalem, 2000, vol. 6, columns 391-393. האדמו”ר ממונקטש רבי חיים אלעזר שפירא:“ ,Samuel Weingarten 11 .Shanah be-Shanah, 1980, pp. 447-449 ”בעל תחושה בקרתית .Bnei Brak, 1969, pp. 127-135 ,שלוש קדושות 12 13 See, e.g., the last line of the letter, where Kalush (p. whereas Bloch and the Spinka ,מתפורר mistakenly reads (135 .מתגורר Rebbe read correctly 14 See below, note 16. .pp. 86-94 ,קובץ מכתבים מקוריים The text is taken from 15 16 The evidence of forgery is culled from G. Scholem’s review .in Kiyrat Sefer 1 (1924-5), pp קובץ מכתבים מקוריים of Bloch’s 104-106; the Munkatcher Rebbe’s comments as recorded by Weingarten (see above, note 11); and my own reading of the text. ,Lemberg ,טיב גיטין ,See also R. Ephraim Zalman Margolioth 17 1859, p. 52a, section on the spellings of towns and rivers. 18 For the correct year of publication of R. Eleazar of Worms commentary on Sefer Yetzirah, see S. Ashkenazi’s note in Tzefunot 1(1989), n. 4, p. 122. ascribed to Maharal’s son-in-law, is itself ,נפלאות מהר”ל 19 a literary hoax. See S.Z. Leiman, “The Adventure of the Maharal of Prague in London,” Judaic Studies 3(2004), pp. 1-43. 20 Chaim Bloch, Der Prager Golem: von seiner Geburt bis zu seinem Tod, Vienna, 1919. An English version, The Golem: Legends of the Ghetto of Prague, Vienna, 1925, became a best seller, and is often reprinted. Bloch’s version of the Golem stories first appeared in serial form in 1917 in the Viennese periodical Oesterreichen Wochenschrift. For a comparative study of the Bloch and Rosenberg versions of the Golem stories, see A. L. Goldsmith, The Golem Remembered, 1909-1080, Detroit, 1981, pp. 51-72. Unfortunately, much of Goldsmith’s analysis is flawed due to the fact that he read Bloch and Rosenberg in translation, rather than consulting the original texts. ,Jerusalem ,מכתבים מזוייפים נגד הציונות ,See S. Weingarten 21 .Moznayim 42(1976), pp ”,ספיחי פולמוס“ ,Cf. G. Elkoshi .1981 212-215. 22 A. Putik, ed., Path of Life: Rabbi Judah Loew ben Bezalel, Prague, 2009. The signature, recorded in 1597, appears on the frontispiece and at p. 37. Cf. pp. 73-74. זכרונו :at the end of the signature stands for ז”ל ה”ה The 23 Cf. the Maharal’s signatures with the very . לחיי העולם הבא ,לחם רב to R. Samuel b. Joseph’s הסכמה same endings in his Prague, 1609 (reissued: Jerusalem, 2003), p. 5, and in the document cited by Gottesdiener, op. cit., p. 29.

Some Assorted Comments and a Selection from my Memoir, part 2

Some Assorted Comments and a Selection from my Memoir, part 2 by Marc B. Shapiro 1. In a recent Jewish Action (Summer 2009), p. 21, Elli Fischer writes: Brandeis University has been enclosed by an eruv for thirty years, longer than any other campus not adjacent to an established Jewish community. Since Brandeis is a Jewish institution, the eruv is funded by the university (as opposed to the students). . . . Rabbi David Fine, who graduated from Brandeis in the mid-1980’s, recalls checking the eruv as a student. . . . The first two JLIC rabbis to serve at Brandeis, Todd Berman and Aharon Frazer, each implemented minor upgrades to the eruv.

This gives me the opportunity to correct some errors and tell part of the story of the Brandeis Orthodox community. The eruv was first established in the 1982-1983 school year, when R. Meir Sendor was the Orthodox advisor. (Sendor is currently the rabbi of Young Israel of Sharon and is unusual in that he is both an academic scholar of Kabbalah, with a PhD from Harvard,[1] and also involved in Kabbalah from the spiritual side.) Rabbi Sendor informs me that Rabbi Yehudah Kelemer was the initial halakhic advisor, and Rabbi Shimon Eider was later brought in to be the official rav ha-machshir. (R. Eider later helped in putting up the eruv in Sharon, which was the first eruv in New England.) When I arrived in Brandeis in the fall of 1985 we did not carry on Shabbat. (Contrary to theJewish Action article, David Fine didn’t arrive at Brandeis until two years later.) I assume that due to some structural changes on campus, the eruv was no longer functional. During that academic year, Rabbi Eider returned, did what needed to be done, and the eruv was once again kosher. At this time, R. Yaakov Lazaros, a Chabad rabbi in Framingham (with semichah from R. Moshe Feinstein), was the Orthodox advisor. The university paid (and I assume still pays) for the eruv’s upkeep, but this has nothing to do with Brandeis supposedly being a Jewish institution. In fact, it isnot a Jewish institution. Brandeis paid because it saw this as an important service to the Orthodox community. The university has expanded since the 1980’s so that is probably why changes to the eruv had to be made. I don’t like the word “upgrade” that Fischer used, because “upgrade” means to improve the quality of something, and I don’t think that Rabbi Eider’s eruv needed to be improved. When one speaks of Orthodox life at Brandeis, a lot of credit must go to Rabbi Albert Axelrad, who was the Reform Hillel rabbi at Brandeis. He is someone who over time I came to admire greatly, even though our religious outlooks were so very different. What Weinberg jokingly said about another Reform rabbi applies equally to Axelrad: He is a “hillul ha- shem,” (hillul ha-shem in quotation marks!) because he shows that “one can be an upstanding and noble man, full of the spirit of love for Israel, its Torah, and its language,” even if one is not a halakhic Jew.[2] In ways that people don’t realize, Axelrad greatly assisted Orthodox growth on campus, and today Brandeis has a very large Orthodox contingent.[3] It was Axelrad who made sure that there would be an Orthodox advisor on campus, paid for from the Hillel budget. Yet despite his leaning over backwards to help the Orthodox, there were always those in the Orthodox community who had negative feelings towards him, not only ideologically, but also personally. These were people who came from yeshivot and had never had any contact with a Reform rabbi, and here was one who performed intermarriages. Axelrad had also been involved in some leftist causes and has the dubious distinction of having been officially put into herem, ceremony and all, by Rabbi Marvin Antelman. He shared this honor with the entire membership of the New Jewish Agenda, whom Antelman also placed under herem. (I mentioned Antelman in a previous installment and hope to return to him as his books are deserving of their own post.) Rabbi Lazaros was only at Brandeis for one year and he was followed by Rabbi Marc Gopin. Those who saw the video on the Rav will probably remember Gopin as he has a few appearances in it. At the time he was working on his dissertation, which focuses on Samuel David Luzzatto.[4] He has also published a nice article on Elijah Benamozegh.[5] Since then he has made an international reputation for himself in the area of conflict resolution, travelling widely and publishing a number of books.[6] Gopin was followed by another rabbi, a RIETS graduate, who would have been very good for the community in another ten years. But at this time he was too much to the right for them. The community had always been a somewhat liberal place. I recall the outrage among many when R. Moshe Dovid Tendler came to campus and expressed his feelings about homosexuality. There was the same outrage when the new campus rabbi said similar things. (Shmuley Boteach or R. Chaim Rapoport would have been more in line with the students’ feelings.) The following should give a further sense of the liberal nature of the community: The practice on Shabbat morning when taking the Torah out of the ark was for the hazan to carry it through the women’s section. This struck everyone as a very nice thing to do, and although it is not done at the typical synagogue, college is a very different place. Another example of how college differs from the “real world” is that during Shabbat morning services women routinely give divrei Torah, yet this is not something that most “regular” shuls are willing to allow. When Rabbi Lazaros was the Orthodox advisor he ruled that the practice of carrying the Torah on the women’s side was forbidden. From the way he explained his decision I understood that the major issue wasn’t carrying the Torah on the woman’s side per se, but rather women kissing the Torah. As he was the rav, we had to listen to him, even on the Shabbatot that he was not there. However, in an act of rebellion the community made a decision that when the Torah was taken out of the ark the hazan, who now could not walk around the women’s side, would also not walk around the men’s side. He would bring the Torah right to the bimah. When the Torah was returned to the ark the hazan walked to the front of the synagogue and sang Mizmor le-David, once again without walking around the men’s side. The following year, with the arrival of a new Orthodox advisor, the community revived the old practice of carrying the Torah on the women’s side. When I was the Orthodox advisor in the early 1990’s the Orthodox culture on campus had changed, and the situation with carrying the Torah was exactly reversed from what it had been in the 1980’s. In the 1990’s it was the students, or rather some students, who wanted to stop carrying the Torah on the women’s side. They didn’t think that an Orthodox shul could have such a practice. My position was that the minhag had to remain the way it was. At that time there was a very dynamic Ramah-type minyan and if the Orthodox were seen as too close- minded we would lose people to the Conservative minyan. In fact, it was precisely because of the liberal nature of our minyan that many non-Orthodox were attracted to it, and a number of students adopted an observant lifestyle while at Brandeis. While some students, coming to Brandeis after a year in Israel, wanted the minyan to be just like their shul in Teaneck and the Five Towns, the truth was that the minyan, to be successful, had to be run like an out of town shul. This was not the only time I felt that for the sake of the wider appeal of the Orthodox community I had to make decisions that got some people upset. On Friday night there was a communal meal for all the different denominations. Often a woman would say kiddush. After that everyone could, of course, make their own kiddush. But there were some people who wanted to make a big deal about the women saying kiddush, and were also saying that men are not yotze with this, no matter which woman is reciting the kiddush. At the same time that this was happening, there were also those in the non-Orthodox groups who wanted to start having women lead the communal birkat ha- mazon. Until then, out of deference to the Orthodox, only a man led it. We have a talmudic principle that if you try to grab too much you will end up with nothing, so I had to make a choice. The real halakhic issue here was birkat ha-mazon, as a woman cannot be motzi a man.[7] Therefore, I told the students that it was OK for the women to make kiddush but not birkat ha- mazon, and anyone who wanted to should make his own kiddush. This compromise was accepted. A year prior to this, before I was working at Brandeis, I had been wondering about this issue and asked R. Yehudah Herzl Henkin if it was permitted for a woman to say kiddush for a man. He replied in the affirmative. Shortly after receiving his answer, the same issue became pressing at Harvard Hillel. I told the Orthodox rabbi at Harvard, Harry Sinoff, what the practice at Brandeis was and that he might want to consult with R. Henkin. This is the responsum R. Henkin wrote, published here for the first time. (See also Bnei Vanim, vol. 2, pp. 40-41.)

I myself wrote a short Hebrew “mini-responsum” dealing with women, kiddush, and birkat ha-mazon. It was taped to the wall of the campus beit midrash, but with the move to the right, I am sure that not too long after my departure the responsum came down. I just mentioned the Brandeis beit midrash, which it itself significant. Other than Brandeis, I don’t know if there is another secular university in the world that has a beit midrash in a university building. When the beit midrash was established in the early 1990’s it was a great achievement. It was an entirely student led project, but again, Rabbi Axelrad’s involvement, behind the scenes, was crucial. He spoke at the beit midrash dedication, as did the Boston Rosh Kollel. There were also some minor conflicts related to the beit midrash. Although it was the Orthodox students who arranged for it, it was obviously something that all students could be part of. The question came up of what type of books should be stocked there. My feeling was that since the library had all the scholarly and academic books, there was no reason for these sorts of texts to be in the beit midrash. Another issue arose with the Boston kollel. They had recently become involved with Brandeis students as part of their outreach. One of the kollel guys, who was having a great influence on the students, wanted to start a gemara shiur on campus. This was fabulous. He wanted to give the shiur in the beit midrash, which was the natural place. However, he said that he could only do it if no women were allowed into the beit midrash during this time (even if they were not participating in the shiur). One of the women students complained to me, and I agreed that this was improper. The beit midrash was established for all students and must be open 24 hours a day for everyone. We could not have a situation where, like a pool, the beit midrash is closed to women for certain hours. It also went against the ethos of the community to declare that women are barred from attending certain classes. I told the male students who were organizing the shiur that it would have to take place somewhere else, and that is what happened. Right when we were having the discussions one of the students drove to Brookline to attend Prof. Isadore (R. Yitzhak) Twersky’s gemara shiur, and he came back reporting that there was a woman in attendance. If the Talner Rebbe welcomed women to his shiur, were the Brandeis students supposed to be more “frum”? For those who have never seen a picture of my late teacher, who was also the son-in-law of R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik, here he is:

There was another time when the Boston Rosh Kollel gave a decision to some of the students that I felt could drive away the less religious if it was adopted by the community as a whole. Since there were students who thought that the Rosh Kollel should be regarded as the halakhic authority for the community, I was in a difficult situation. This was especially so as I myself had asked him questions in the past, so it would not be an easy thing to reject his ruling in this case. I consulted a well-known haredi posek with whom I had discussed other matters, including an issue of possible mamzerut that came up on campus. He agreed with my position but said that he could not put his decision in writing. I know that some people will find this objectionable, but it never bothered me. Why should I care if he put it in writing? He knew that if he did he might be attacked. Given the choice between no pesak (if it has to be in writing) or an oral pesak, obviously the latter is preferable. Although at the time I told people who gave the pesak (and anyone who wanted to could call him up to confirm it), revealing it on this blog would, I think, fall into the category of “putting it in writing.” This posek is still functioning, and if he was afraid of being attacked fifteen years ago, all the more so today. (There are reasons why I am being vague about the particulars of the pesak.) Returning to the Brandeis beit midrash, Prof. Marvin Fox also spoke at its dedication. This was significant as it was the first time, in my memory, that the students took advantage of this great scholar and talmid hakham.[8] There was such a disconnect at Brandeis between the academic life and the religious life that regarding the latter we all overlooked the people in our midst, those who were teaching us in the classroom. I too regret not speaking to Fox in greater detail. For example, having lived in Columbus, Ohio he knew R. Leopold Greenwald very well, and yet other than hearing one or two stories about him from Fox, I never took the time to find out more. Fox also knew Chaim Bloch, the great rabbinic forger. (Greenwald and Bloch were themselves good friends.) He told me once that there was a lot he could say about Bloch, and yet I was foolish and never took advantage of this. After Fox’s death I discovered a letter from him to Bloch in which he explains how it happened that Greenwald’s great library ended up at the Hebrew Union College. He also tells us the tragic fate of Greenwald’s huge collection of letters, letters that he received from gedolim and scholars over the course of many decades. This must have been one of the largest and most interesting collections in the world, full of priceless material which should have been given to a library so a Greenwald archive could be established. Among these papers were also to be found manuscripts from Greenwald’s own pen that had not yet been published. It was perhaps with this in mind that Fox told me very firmly, at the Brandeis beit midrash dedication, not to let the letters of Weinberg out of my hands. He was convinced that some people would want to destroy them, or at the very least make sure they were not made public. Here is Fox’s letter to Bloch, courtesy of the Leo Baeck Institute, New York[9]:

Returning to the RIETS graduate who was the Orthodox advisor following Gopin, there were a few issues that created problems. Yet the straw that broke the camel’s back was that, in accordance with R. Moshe Feinstein’s pesak, he would not give an aliyah to Rabbi Axelrad. Axelrad’s practice was to come to the Orthodox minyan once a year. Not giving him an aliyah was something that simply wouldn’t fly at Brandeis. It was not a question of Axelrad being concerned about his kavod. I am certain that he did not take personal offense. But he was very concerned about what appeared to be a growing split in the community, a community that had always gotten along so well. To publicly refuse to give the Hillel rabbi an aliyah would give the Orthodox community a sectarian flavor very much removed from both the Hillel ethos, as well from the majority of Orthodox students as well. It was not surprising, therefore, that this rabbi was let go in the middle of the year. After he was let go he tried to create a separate Orthodox community independent of Hillel. It was to be a real Austrittsgemeinde, and he told us that money would be forthcoming from New York to help us form the new community. Yet none of the students were interested. R. Yehudah Herzl Henkin’s responsum, Bnei Vanim, vol. 2, no. 9, on whether one can give a Reform rabbi an aliyah, is dealing with the Brandeis situation (and was sent to me). Rabbi Henkin’s responsa have an unfortunate characteristic in that they don’t mention to whom he is writing, or give other identifying details. Without this blog post, future historians would have had no way of knowing which of the many American campuses he was referring to. Think of how much we learn about the history of Orthodoxy in America from R. Moshe Feinstein’s responsa. We see him answering questions to Canton, Berkeley and all sorts of other places. Knowing to where he is writing is vital for getting a sense not only of Orthodoxy of the time, but of the responsum itself, since his ruling for an out-of-the way place cannot always be applied when dealing with a center of Jewish life. More leniencies are obviously found in the former. With regard to Bnei Vanim, since R. Henkin doesn’t tell us to whom he is writing, when he is offering comments on another’s work we have no way of identifying this text if we want to get a better sense of the opposing position. (Other poskim have also published responsa that deal with Brandeis, and I will discuss them in a future post.) I think readers might also find the following story interesting, from my tenure as Orthodox advisor at Brandeis. Every Friday night all the different groups on campus would get together for an oneg, at which there would be a speaker. Out of respect for the Orthodox a microphone was never used, which wasn’t really an issue since the onegs were not that big. However, it so happened that Hillel had an opportunity to bring in Dr. Ruth Westheimer[10] to speak on Friday night. She wasn’t going to speak about any sexual matters, but about her early years in Germany and her family that was killed. This was at the height of Dr. Ruth’s fame, and there was going to be a huge crowd to come hear her. Hillel had decided to break with tradition and use a microphone at the event, which was to be held in a hall much larger than was usually used. I was told that Dr. Ruth actually insisted on the microphone, and the Hillel leadership didn’t feel like they could refuse. Before continuing with the story, let me go back a few years and tell how I, and my classmates, first heard of Dr. Ruth, because I think it says something about how yeshiva administrators are sometimes very foolish. I still remember how one day on the bus all the talk was about how the administration of Bruriah High School – the girl’s school of the Jewish Educational Center in Elizabeth, where I was a student – had sent out a letter to all parents telling them about a very dangerous radio show called “Sexually Speaking” that was on very late on Sunday night. The parents were told to make sure that their daughters didn’t listen to it—as if a parent can control what a teenager does with her radio in the privacy of her room. It was an era before computers, when we all listened to radio. (I am sure many readers remember the days when 770 WABC played music.) Now anyone should realize that the perfect way to bring teenagers to do something is to tell them that they can’t do it. Although perhaps none of the Bruriah students had ever even heard of the show, upon receipt of this letter they all were determined to find out what the administration wanted to keep them away from. Not only that, but on the bus, the day after the letter was received, they told all the boys about this strange letter. None of us had ever heard of Dr. Ruth, and our school never sent out a warning letter to parents. Yet you can be sure that after hearing the news we too were curious. It happens that some students found Dr. Ruth so funny and interesting that they listened to her while they were on the phone together. The whole novelty was about an older Jewish woman, with a strong accent, speaking so openly about the things people don’t usually speak about. Returning to the story, I was now put in a difficult situation, since the Orthodox community could not support an event that involved Sabbath violation. I told this to the Hillel administration and I told the students that I would not be going and it was not something that the Orthodox community could be part of. I remained in the dining room with those students who chose to stay, and those who wanted to hear Dr. Ruth went upstairs, where the event was taking place. Imagine my surprise when someone sits down next to me, and lo and behold, it is Dr. Ruth. She had obviously been told that there was some controversy about her speaking on the microphone, and she wanted to come speak to me. She was extremely apologetic, and said that unfortunately she needs the microphone, otherwise no one would be able to hear her. She also told me that she was sorry that this created problems for the Orthodox community. Dr. Ruth stayed with us for about ten minutes or so, and even bentched together with us (though though she hadn’t eaten anything!). She told me that she remembered singing the standard tune to the first paragraph of birkat hamazon when she was a child in Germany. I don’t know if she had sung it since. One other event is worth recalling, and this took place when I was an undergraduate. It involved a dispute between me and my friend David Bernstein, and I would be curious to hear what readers have to say.[11] We decided to create an organization so we could invite in speakers. In order to get money from the university, we had to be officially chartered, so in our senior year we created the Brandeis chapter of Young Americans for Freedom. It had exactly two members (we had no interest in having any others join), and lasted for only one year (i.e., until we graduated). I was a little surprised when the Brandeis student senate agreed to charter us and give us money, but hey, you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. (Had Matthew Brooks not already graduated, we probably would have let him join our little club. Brooks is now the executive director of the Republican Jewish Coalition. See here) One of our events was sponsoring a debate between my father, Edward S. Shapiro, and Stephen S. Whitfield on what political ideology was more in line with Jewish interests. This had a very large turn-out and the problem was that Whitfield, although a Democrat, is more of a Truman or Kennedy Democrat. Every time my father cited some nonsensical statement by a Democratic figure, Whitlfield agreed that it was nonsense, so they ended up agreeing about as much as they disagreed. A debate isn’t much fun unless one of the speakers is prepared to defend what others regard as indefensible (e.g., anyone looking to defend ACORN?). For those who don’t know, Whitfield is one of the leading experts on American Jewish culture, having written an enormous amount on the topic. My father started off as a general historian, but has also written a great deal on American Jewish history. I can’t help thinking that the reason the New York Times never reviewed his book on the Crown Heights Riots[12] – which was a National Jewish Book Award Finalist – was that they didn’t want to revisit the issue. It was, after all, the great embarrassment of the Dinkins administration, and the symbol of Democratic failure in New York City, ushering in the Giuliani era. Yet it was, precisely for these reasons, one of the most important events in recent New York City history, and one would think that theNew York Times would have thought it worthwhile to review such a book. But no, they let it pass without comment. We also brought in Dinesh D’Souza to speak. This was before he had published any of his books. In fact, I had never even heard of him when Bernstein suggested we bring him. His talk, though sparsely attended, was quite good. My dispute with Bernstein happened regarding our next speaker. I wanted to bring Lew Lehrman to speak. He was a prominent conservative who almost became governor of New York. He also had some honorary role in Young Americans for Freedom. Bernstein strongly disagreed. He argued that since Lehrman had converted to Catholicism a few years prior, he was not the sort of person we should be asking to speak. Although Bernstein was not Orthodox, that was a big issue for him and I agreed to drop the idea. But from my perspective, the fact that Lehrman had left the fold had no relevance for me in terms of having him speak. I wasn’t giving him an honor or asking him to speak on his theology. I wanted to hear him talk about economic matters and the situation in Nicaragua, and didn’t think that his personal life was of any relevance. Although the cases are obviously not identical, there was a time when many people would have reacted the same way to inviting an intermarried speaker, and my response would have been the same. Since there is such a high intermarriage rate, one day most of us will have someone running for Congress in our district who is intermarried (some already have such representatives), just like most of us already know people, or have family members, who are intermarried. I don’t think this should have any relevance on my vote. In fact, I don’t think it should have any relevance on anything. Two generations ago, anyone who intermarried realized that he was doing something very much at odds with Jewish life and upbringing. Today, hardly anyone who grows up in the non-Orthodox world thinks that it is an issue at all, and it is only a matter of time before the Conservative movement accepts intermarriage. They have no choice, as their congregations are full of people whose children intermarry, and they can’t go on forever taking a hard line on this issue. Not only do they lose the intermarried children, they often lose the parents when the rabbi tells his long-time congregants that he is sorry but he can’t perform the wedding of their children or even announce it in the synagogue newsletter. I predict that within ten years we will see Conservative rabbis doing intermarriages. The massive intermarriage rate has also impacted the Orthodox world. A number of years ago R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg stated that he thought that it might be a good idea for a father whose son was going to intermarry to attend the wedding, thus not completely cutting off all ties.[13] Weinberg had known the problems of intermarriage very well, as the son of his good friend R. Shlomo Aronson, Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv, had married a non-Jewish Russian woman. He also knew Jacob Klatzkin, the brilliant philosopher and Zionist thinker, who was the son of the even more brilliant R. Elijah Klatzkin. How many people know that Jacob Klatzkin intermarried? According to Gotthard Deutsch, R. Esriel Hildesheimer’s son Levi intermarried.[14] It is hard to imagine that Deutsch, who was Levi’s contemporary, was mistaken with the facts, especially since he was never corrected in succeeding issues of the newspaper in which he published this information. Yet Dr. Meir Hildesheimer has told me that Levi Hildesheimer married the daughter of Abraham Brodsky of Odessa, the well known philanthropist. Levi’s son, Arnold Hildesheimer, was an active Zionist who made his living as a chemist and eventually moved to the Land of Israel. Arnold’s mother was definitely Jewish. Therefore, I don’t know if Deutsch erred or if Levi married twice.. Arnold Hildesheimer’s son was Wolfgang Hildesheimer, an important figure in pre-World War II German literature. Unfortunately, we have a number of examples of not merely intermarriage of children of great rabbis, but even conversion. The story of the son of R. Shneur Zalman of Lyady is well known, and I don’t need to repeat it here. Let me just mention, however, that the man was clearly mentally unbalanced. Michael Bernays, a son of Hakham Isaac Bernays, is probably the most famous apostate from a rabbinic family in modern times, converting seven years after his father’s death. Another son of Hakham Bernays, Jacob, actually sat shiva when this occurred.[15] If we want to look at descendants of great rabbis who converted, then the family tree of R. Akiva Eger has plenty of non-Jews. In fact, a predecessor to R. Akiva Eger as rav of Posen, the Beit Shmuel Aharon, R. Samuel ben Moses Falkenfeld,[16] had a most significant great-grandson, yet he was not Jewish. I refer to none other than Leon von Bilinski.[17] He was Austrian minister of finance and also military governor of Bosnia when Archduke Ferdinand was assassinated. I assume the famous Posen family got its name from the city of Posen. R. Gershon Posen, the dayan of Frankfurt’s separatist community, had a grandson who was on the verge of converting to Christianity. Nahum Glatzer describes this young man’s disillusionment with Orthodoxy, and how he tried to talk him out of conversion.[18] (The conversion never took place, and another grandson, R. Raphael Posen, tells me that the more than seventy grandchildren of R. Gershon all remained Orthodox.) How are Orthodox Jews supposed to relate to those who intermarry, and who typically don’t know any better? Many of us have even been invited to intermarriages. R Yuval Sherlow has stated that while it is not permitted to attend an intermarriage wedding ceremony, there are times (especially when family is involved) that it would be permitted to attend the party.[19] R. Ovadiah Yosef has ruled that it is permitted to give an intermarried man an aliyah,[20] and this opinion is also shared by R. Baruch Avraham Toledano and R. Pinchas Toledano (former Sephardic Av Beit Din of London).[21] I am also told that this is the practice at the Lakewood kiruv minyanim all over the country. This is so despite the fact that the most that R. Moshe Feinstein would permit in such a case is to allow the intermarried man to open and close the Ark.[22] It is actually Aish Hatorah that has done more to “normalize” intermarriage than any other organization in the Orthodox world. Not only does Aish Hatorah do outreach to the intermarried (something we can all appreciate), but they use various intermarried Jewish celebrities in their publicity, and have even honored these people at their events. I am not saying that they are wrong in what they do. After all, the old approach to intermarriage doesn’t work today, and although I find something distasteful about using an intermarried celebrity as the poster-boy to invite people to a Torah class, I see how people can disagree. But about one thing there can be no doubt, and that is that R. Aaron Kotler would be turning over in his grave if he saw what this supposedly haredi organization has done when it comes to tacit acceptance of intermarriage. Yet we shouldn’t assume that it is only in modern times that intermarried people have been honored by Orthodox Jews. While it would have been unimaginable in previous years to put them on a pedestal the way Aish Hatorah does, there were times that the intermarried man did such great service for the Jewish community that it was only proper to express feelings of gratitude. Adolphe Cremieux is one such example. Although being intermarried, he helped the Jewish community in many ways. One can even say that he is a model for our time, in showing that one can love the Jewish people and sacrifice for them, even after having intermarried. Here is a song written in honor of Cremieux by the noted R. Aaron Fuld of Frankfurt, author of Beit Aharon. It is taken from Judaica Jerusalem auction cataloge of Summer 1997, p. 6.

Worse than intermarriage is apostasy, but the same issue came up there also. The apostate Daniel Chwolson staunchly defended his former religion and people. How were the Jews to relate to him? Let me quote Louis Jacobs, The Jewish Religion (Oxford, 1995) pp. 99-100: When Chwolson celebrated his seventieth birthday, a number of Russian rabbis, in gratitude for his efforts on behalf of the Jewish community, sent him a telegram to wish him many happy returns. Rabbi Hayyim Soloveitchik was more typical of the standard Jewish abhorrence of apostasy when he refused to participate, saying: ‘I do not send congratulatory telegrams to a meshumad.” The wry remark attributed to Chwolson himself in the following story is probably apocryphal. Chwolson is reported to have said that he became a Christian out of conviction. “Who are you kidding?” said a Jewish friend. “How can you of all people, a learned Jew, be convinced that Christianity is true and Judaism false?” To which Chwolson is supposed to have replied: “I was convinced that it is better to be a professor at the university than to be a Hebrew teacher [melamed] in a small town.” 2. I have seen ads for the soon to be published new RCA Artscroll siddur. It will be interesting to see how the battle shapes up between the Sacks siddur and the new RCA Artscroll. I can’t see how the Sacks siddur is going to make any real headway, as I don’t think many shuls are going to get rid of the Artscroll siddur they have been using for so long, and which does just about everything you need a siddur to do. While the new RCA siddur was in the production stages, R. Asher Lopatin of Chicago sent the following letter to the Siddur Committee. I think it is interesting in that it shows some of the concerns of those on the Orthodox left. Although I haven’t seen the new siddur yet, I don’t think I am going out on too much of a limb to predict that the RCA will not be adopting Lopatin’s proposal. (I thank R. Lopatin for allowing me to publish his letter.[23])

The Practice of Saying She’asani Yisrael for the Birchot HaShachar instead of the three “Shelo Asani”s In Masechet Menachot, 43b (Bavli), Rabbi Meir says that a person, “Adam”, has to (chayav) say three blessings every day: She’asani Yisrael, Shelo Asani Isha and Shelo Asani Bur. There is a note there that it should be Rabbi Yehuda saying this instead of Rabbi Meir, and also on the next line Rav Acha Bar Ya’akov replaces “Shelo Asani Bur” with “Shelo Asani Aved”. The G’mara questions why we need to say both Shelo Asani Aved and Shelo Asani Isha, but it gives an answer to this question. Rashi, in his second explanation of that answer, on Menachot 44a, says that we need to say both in order to come up with 100 b’rachot. The Bach (O.C 46) argues that the main reason for saying all three is to increase the number of b’rachot we say to 100. He argues that that is the main reason for saying three b’rachot in the negative (shelo asani) instead of one b’racha in the positive (she’asani Yisrael) – basically, if you would say “She’asani Yisrael” then you couldn’t say “Shelo asani aved, isha”. The Aruch HaShulchan (46, yud) paskins as well that if you say She’asani Yisrael, you cannot say the other two negative b’rachot. The Mishna B’rura (46,16) leaves it as a dispute. Most Rishonim, notably the Rif and the Rambam (according to the G’ra), disagree with our existing girsa of the words of Rabbi Meir/Rabbi Yehuda, and they have the first b’racha in the negative as “Shelo Asani Goy”. This is the standard version in siddurim, nusach Ashkenaz and Sepharad and Edot Hamizrach, with the occasional nusach of “Shelo Asani Nochri” instead of “goy”. The Magen Avraham (O.C. 46, tet) mentions, that there were siddurim – perhaps many of them – that had the b’racha of she’asani Yehudi , but that that is a mistake of the printers, and the Mishna B’rura (46, 15) says that there are several siddurim with “She’asani Yisrael” but that one should not say that as it is also a mistake that of the printers (shibush had’fus). The Magen Avraham (O.C. 46, yud) and the Haghot Ha’Gra (O.C. 46) interpret the Rama (46, 4) as suggesting that converts should say “She’asani Ger” and the Bach (46) interprets the Rama as suggesting that converts say “She’asani Yehudi” – instead of the negative. Moreover, the Rosh is in the back of Masechet B’rachot, paragraph #24 (daf 39 in our versions, referring to B’rachot 60a) – upholds the Girsa that we have in Menachot. It’s in rounded brackets in the Rosh, and the Divrei Chamudot on the Rosh doesn’t like it, but it is there. Importantly, the G’ra affirms it is the girsa of the Rosh (and the Tur, which doesn’t appear in our versions) in his Biur HaGra on OH 46:4. Therefore: Since many of the Nosei Keilim and the Aruch HaShulchan feel compelled to ask: Why are these b’rachot in the negative (see Taz 46:4 “Rabim makshim…”)? And since the girsa that we have in our G’marras is She’asani Yisrael, supported by the Rosh and the G’ra And since even though the Shulchan Aruch rejects our positive girsa of the b’racha, the Rama does support it (in some version) as a legitimate b’racha in certain circumstances – for a convert And since even those who reject “She’asani Yisrael/Yehudi/Ger” for a convert, (Sh’lah and Bach, see Taz 46, 10), do not reject it because it is not a legitimate nusach, but, rather, because it does not apply to a convert who has made himself a Jew, rather than being created by God as a Jew. And since the negativity of the three b’rachot causes lots of misunderstandings in shul where many people come from Reform, Conservative or unaffiliated backgrounds – or even from Orthodox backgrounds without perhaps truly understanding the love that Chazal had for all human beings, male, female, Jewish or Gentile I have asked my shul, Anshe Sholom B’nai Israel Congregation, a shul that does a lot of kiruv, to follow the girsa of the b’racha according to the G’ra and the Rosh, and say, “She’asani Yisrael” and that a woman say “She’asani Yisraelit” instead of “Shelo Asani Goy.” Once the first b’racha is said in this way, the way it appears in the G’marra Menachot, then we have no choice, based on the rule of ‘safek b’rachot lekula’ and based on the p’sak of the Aruch HaShulchan (from the Bach) , to avoid saying the final two, negative b’rachot of “Shelo Asani Aved” and “Shelo Asani Isha”. Clearly this helps avoid many of the questions that people ask about the negativity toward “goyim” or “women” that someone who does not understand Chazal do ask. The answers given help, but for a shul dedicated to kiruv, these b’rachot are a big turn off. On the other hand, the b’racha of “she’asani Yisrael/Yisraelit” is a beautiful b’racha, thanking God for making me Jewish – proud to be Jewish, excited to begin the day as a Yisrael. In addition, from a philosophical point of view, rather than beginning the day with negative b’rachot, which accentuate the G’mara of “noach lo la’adam shelo nivra” (see Bach 46, then Taz 46, 4), let us begin the day with a positive b’racha “k’mo sha’ar b’rachot shemevarchim al hatova” (Magen Avraham, 46, 9). Not negating the p’sak of “noach lo…”, but just respecting the positive aspects which G’mara Menachot the way we have it preferred. Homiletically, “She’asani Yisrael” matches very well with B’reishit 32:27: “Vayomer, Shalcheni ki alah hashacher” – see Rashi ad loc where that is referring to Birchot HaShachar of the angels! And then two p’sukim later, what b’racha (“ki im beirachtani”) does Ya’akov get? “Lo Ya’akov ye’ameir shimcha, ki im Yisrael”! There is no better way to bringing these p’sukim to life than by saying birchot hashachar every day the way our G’marra has it: “She’asani Yisrael” – proud as Ya’akov was to receive the name, “Yisrael.” Finally, Rav Benny Lau, an important Talmid Chacham and leader of Beit Morasha, has told me that he, too, follows this practice of saying “She’asani Yisrael” – and he tells his daughters to say “Yisraelit” – in the morning and having it replace the three negative b’rachot. At the same time, it is important to emphasize the need to reach 100 b’rachot a day, and to push people to be careful about saying Asher Yatzar when leaving the bathroom, and b’rachot before and after eating, and being in shul as frequently as possible in order to hear chazarat haShatz to more easily reach 100 b’rachot. I would humbly ask the Committee responsible for the new RCA Artscroll siddur to consider either putting this practice in the siddur itself, as a possible “hanhaga”, or allowing this way of saying birchot Hashachar to appear on the RCA Artscroll siddur web site, to that I can download it and print it up for my shul, and any other shuls interested in this hanhaga can do the same. Sincerely yours and with wishes of hatzlacha rabba, Rabbi Asher Lopatin

3. Virtually every one of our sages, together with all their brilliance, offer at least one an unusual, sometimes even incomprehensible, idea. Since I am writing this right before Sukkot, here is something to think about when you take the Arba’ah Minim. R. Jacob Ettlinger, the greatest of nineteenth- century German gedolim, writes as follows in hisBikurei Yaakov 651:13. (If you raised this safek in shiur today, the rebbe would think you were joking, but as with even the strangest suggestions, one can often find a true gadol who discusses the issue.) נסתפקתי אם אנו יושבי אירופא יוצאין בד’ מינין שגדלו באיי אמעריקא ואויסטראליען שיושבין לצדינו ותחתינו, וכן איפכא. שידוע מה שכתבו הטבעים שרגליהם נגד רגלינו, ומה שאין נופלין נגד השמים הוא מפני ששם הבורא כח מושך בארץ. וא”כ המינים שגדלו שם אם נוטלין אצלנו הוא הפוך מדרך גדולתן, שאצלנו גדלו ראשי הלולב וההדס ההם יותר למטה מזנבם. או אי נימא, כיון שנוטל הגדל סמוך לארץ למטה זה מקרי דרך גדילתו, והכי מסתברא. 4. In the latest Hakirah (Summer 2009), p. 134 n. 189, Chaim Landerer quotes my translation of a comment by R. Solomon Judah Rapoport. I didn’t know that Landerer was going to publish my translation, and I answered his e-mail quickly and carelessly. The correct translation is not that Rapoport is “as Catholic as the Pope,” but something even stronger. Frankel says that Shir is “more Catholic than the Pope.” (Thanks to R. Ysoscher Katz who caught the error and alerted me. Also thanks to Rabbi Jonah Sievers who is always helpful in matters concerning German translation. Not being a native speaker, and obviously not familiar with all idioms of the language, every translation I have published has been carefully reviewed by expert translators.) Speaking of errors, let me also correct something that appears in Between the Yeshiva World and Modern Orthodoxy. This correction has already been taken care of in the more recent editions of the book, but those who have the first or second printing can insert the correction into the volume. How this error came about, I have no idea. I must have been in a daze, and it was only when the book was published that I saw it. On p. 180, beginning line 3 from the top, it states “Might one then be able to say that our great divine Torah cannot endure the conjunction of Torah with so-called secular studies . . .” It should be corrected to say, “Might one then be able to say that our great divine Torah cannot compete with so called secular studies . . .” There is a popular expression כשם שאין תבן בלא בר כך אין ספר ללא טעויות. The internet is so amazing as it allows all of us to correct errors that have appeared in our works, and publicize them, something that was not possible in earlier years. R. Judah Ibn Tibbon wrote to his son, R. Samuel Iggeret( ha-Musar, ed. Korah [Kiryat Sefer, 2007], p. 45): והטעות שתצא מיד האדם הוא הנתפש עליה ונזכר בה כל ימיו. In other words, unlike a verbal error which is forgotten, something in print is there forever. Yet today, we can minimize this problem by means of the internet. Rather than be embarrassed by errors we have made, and try to ensure that no one learns of them, we should all welcome the opportunity to point out our errors, so that our works are as perfect as we can make them. This is quite apart from the unseemliness of pointing out the errors of others, but not being prepared to call attention to our own mistakes. Incidentally, Ibn Tibbon’s work is full of important lessons, but he says one thing that is very problematic. On p. 42 he writes: . ואל תתעקש אתה להחזיק בדעתך אפילו אם תדע שהאמת אתך. ?לא תגורו What sense does this make? Doesn’t the Torah tell us Didn’t the Rambam speak his mind no matter who disagreed? In our own day, isn’t R. Ovadiah Yosef fearless in expressing his opinion, no matter how much he is attacked? I posed this question to R. Meir Mazuz and he replied: זו הערה נכונה. כנראה ר’ שמואל היה עוד רך בשנים וחשש האב שיגרום לו קנאה ושנאה כמו שקרה לר”ש בן גבירול, וגם להגר”ע יוסף שליט”א בבחרותו כשחלק על הבא”ח כידוע. אבל כשאדם כותב ספר חייב לגלות את דעתו (בעדינות ובזהירות) ולא יכוף על האמת פסכתר. ובמשך הזמן תתגלה האמת, כי היא לעולם עומדת. 5. I want to call everyone’s attention to a fascinating new book. Dirshuni, edited by Tamar Biala and Nechamah Weingarten- Mintz, is a book of modern midrashim, written by women. It has been selling very well in Israel and is an exciting genre that deserves its own discussion. Those who want to see some small excerpts can go here. To order the book you can go here 6. In my last post I mentioned R. Meir Amsel and the memorial volume that recently appeared. I should have also mentioned that his son, R. Eli Amsel, runs the site Virtual Judaica. 7. Finally, I thank everyone who commented and e-mailed me about R. Yerucham Gorelik. There is no question that he was a fascinating man, and an entire post could be devoted to the great stories told about him. It is also true that his relationship with YU was complicated. Let me quote what Dr. Norman Lamm wrote about Gorelik, shortly after his death. Rabbi Yerucham Gorelick appeared at times to be engaged in some kind of titanic inner struggle. He was a cauldron of activity and movement, of perpetual motion. He was a man of striking, sometimes startling contradictions. He appeared to be moving in different directions simultaneously. He was a man of changing moods, of profound dialectical tensions, although he was at all times an ish ha-emet, a man of unshakeable integrity.

For Dr. Lamm’s article, see here

Notes [1] “The Emergence of the Provencal Kabbalah : Rabbi Isaac the Blind’s Commentary on Sefer Yezirah” (1994). [2] Letter to Samuel Atlas, dated Oct. 16, 1959, published in “Scholars and Friends: Rabbi Jehiel Jacob Weinberg and Professor Samuel Atlas,” Torah u-Madda Journal 7 (1997), p. 113. [3] See R. Jehiel Jacob Weinberg’s letter to R. Kook, Iggerot la-Reiyah (Jerusalem, 1990), p. 128 כבר הונח לי בהשתדלותו של רב אחד מרבני העדה הליברלית (דווקא ע”י רב ליברלי של העדה הליברלית, כאלו רוצה הקב”ה לזכות את כל ישראל .(’במעלות שונות שיש בזה מה שאין וכו [4] “The Religious Ethics of Samuel David Luzzatto” (Brandeis University, 1993). [5] “An Orthodox Embrace of Gentiles? Interfaith Tolerance in the Thought of S. D. Luzzatto and E. Benamozegh,” Modern Judaism 18 (May 1998), pp. 173-195. [6] See here A few days before his death, Rabbi Meir Kahane spoke at Brandeis. I think it was actually his last public talk before the night he was killed. For a video of Gopin confronting Kahane see here at 24:20, 31:50, and 43:05, and 56. Gopin starts to speak extensively at 1:02:45. The man standing next to Gopin is Dr. Aryeh Cohen, who also briefly served as Orthodox advisor at Brandeis. He now teaches at the American Jewish University. See here. [7] See Shulhan Arukh, Orah Hayyim 199:6-7. [8] He also had a nice sense of humor. On the first day of class he would come in and write his name on the board as “F- x.” [9] The letter is found in the Chaim Bloch Collection, AR 7155. [10] See here. [11] Bernstein is now a nationally known professor of law. See here. [12] Crown Heights: Blacks, Jews, and the 1991 Brooklyn Riot (Waltham, 2006). [13] I have given the information on this to Rabbi Mark Dratch for his paper at the Orthodox Forum on the topic. [14] See his article in the Jewish Chronicle, June 26, 1914. [15] See Moshe Gresser, Dual Allegiance: Freud as a Modern Jew (Albany, 1994), p. 73. Hakham Bernays’ grandaughter, Martha (daughter of Berman Bernays) married Sigmund Freud. After they were married, Freud refused to allow her to light Shabbat candles. See ibid., p. 67. [16] For details on the controversy surrounding Falkenfeld’s selection as rabbi, and how his opponents regarded as an “uncouth Polack” see Heinrich Graetz, History of the Jews (Philadelphia, 1898), pp. 2-3. When he was rav in Tarnopol, he also had to contend with troublemakers. See R. Solomon Judah Rapoport’s letter in Leopold Greenwald,Toldot Mishpahat Rosenthal (Budapest, 1920), p. 76. For a picture of his tombstone, see here. I can’t explain why on the tombstone he is referred to as “Moses Samuel,” when it should be Samuel ben Moses. For his biography, see Beit Shmuel Aharon al ha-Torah (Jerusalem, 1994), introduction. [17] See here. My information on Bilinski’s family background comes from Gotthard Deutsch’s article in the Jewish Chronicle, June 26, 1914. [18] The Memoirs of Nahum N. Glatzer (New York, 1997), pp. 126-128. Although Glatzer left Orthodoxy, in his younger years he studied in R. Salomon Breuer’s yeshiva in Frankfurt, and also with R. Nehemiah Nobel. As such, he understood Orthodoxy very well. Glatzer, who died in 1990, was retired when I came to Brandeis in 1985. To my great regret, I never took the trouble to interview him as I did with Prof. Alexander Altmann, who retired from Brandeis in 1976. On pp. 129-130 of Glatzer’s memoir we find the following, which I am sure will interest many readers of the Seforim blog. In 1944 Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik (called “the Rov” by his followers and admirers) published in Talpiot a major article, “Ish ha-Halakhah” (the Halakhic Personality). The essay, written in a most beautiful Hebrew style, not only claimed for the observance of Jewish law the central place in Jewish life, but denied the—however circumscribed—validity of any other approach. The Halakhah demands a complete control of the Jew, to the exclusion of an emotional state of mind to accompany the halakhc function. There is no rightful place for, or justification of, a state of excitement or religious agitation, say, in the ceremony of blowing the shofar on New Year’s Day; what matters, and matters exclusively, is the proper execution of the ritual. This exclusion of the emotional side of religion bothered me when I read the essay. I planned a polemic reply but was dissuaded by my colleagues. I happened to visit New York and voiced my feelings to Professor Louis Ginzberg, the great Talmudist. I expected him to agree with me and object to the rigid stand of the Rov. The cautious Ginzberg did not wish to commit himself, or to say something that could be quoted as a criticism of his Talmudic colleague. He, therefore, did not go beyond saying: “I like my whiskey straight,” which was a mild complaint against the Rov’s combination of Halakhah and philosophy. The only reference that could be interepreted as an admission of esthetics into the realm of religion was Ginzberg’s telling of the Gaon of Vilna (brother of Rabbi Abraham, Ginzberg’s forebear in the seventh generation), who near death admired the beauty of the etrog that was brought to him, since the day was one of the Sukkot festival days. (The Rov, apparently, would have felt: Never mind the etrog’s beauty. What matters is that the citron is without blemish and the benediction is properly pronounced.). I was disappointed that Ginzberg did not wish to take seriously the younger man’s question. In the meantime, the Rov changed his position and realized the wider dimension of faith. If you wait long enough . . . [ellipsis in original]. Yet, even with the changed position on the part of the Rov, Ginzberg, were he alive, would insist on having his whiskey straight. Glatzer sees “The Lonely Man of Faith” as expressing a change in the Rav’s earlier “halakho-centrism.” I wonder if Prof. Lawrence Kaplan will agree. [19] Reshut ha-Yahid (Petah Tivah, 2003), p. 186. [20] Ma’ayan Omer (Jerusalem, 2007), vol. 1, pp. 186, 194, 205. R. Hillel Posek, Divrei Hillel, Orah Hayyim, no. 8, strongly supports giving an intermarried man an aliyah, but not as one of the first seven. To deny such an aliyah woould be to embarrass the man, and Posek explains why even sinners cannot be treated with disrespect. See also his comments in Ha-Posek, Sivan 5747, p. 1336. In Amsterdam the practice was also not to give an intermarried man one of the first seven aliyot. See R. Jacob Zvi Katz,Leket ha-Kemah he-Hadash (London, n.d.), vol. 3, p. 63. [21] Sha’alu le-Varukh, vol. 1, no. 40. [22] Of course, there are many other poskim who forbid giving an intermarried man an aliyah. Even as liberal a posek as R. Ben Zion Uziel was adamant that you cannot call an intermarried man up to the Torah. See Mishpetei Uziel, vol 8, no. 53. [23] For those who don’t know, Lopatin was the first Rhodes Scholar to become an Orthodox rabbi. In fact, he might be the first Rhodes Scholar to become a rabbi in any denomination. R. Chaim Strauchler of Toronto is the second Rhodes Scholar- Orthodox rabbi.