www.oxfordchabad.org | Blogs | Oxford Jewish Thought

Oxford's Rare Machzor Vitry Haggadah: A Passover Essay

Fri, 6 Apr 2012 1:55:00 PM

This essay will look at an important Oxford manuscript of the principle text of the holiday of Passover, called the Haggadah, which is read in homes during the Passover Seder dinner on the night of Passover. The manuscript is a commentary to the prayer book, called Machzor Vitry, composed by Rabbi Simcha ben Samuel of Vitry (died 1105), a student of the great commentator of the Torah and the Talmud, Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki (1040-1105).

There are only three manuscripts of this work extant and one is found in Oxford’s Bodleian library (Neubauer, Cat. Bodl. Hebr. MSS. No. 1100), in addition to the British Library and Reggio.

The Machzor Vitry also includes a commentary to the liturgy of the Haggadah and as an eleventh century work it serves as one of the oldest versions of the complete Haggadah liturgy with commentary in existence after the Gaonic period.

The development of the Haggadah liturgy is somewhat obscured in history, as between the earliest version mentioned in the 3rd century work of the Mishna (tractate Pesachim) and subsequently in the Talmud in 5th century, there are no further complete texts extant with the liturgy of the Haggadah until the 9th century by the Head of the Babylonian Jewish Talmud academy, Rabbi Amrom Gaon, and the Machzor Vitry in 11th century.

It is evident however that by the time the 11th century arrived the principle liturgy of the Haggadah had already developed, which is very much expanded from how it is found in the Mishnah.

The work of the Machzor Vitry therefore provides us an important early text indicating what the liturgy looked like in the 11th century, serving as the bases for later versions.

In this essay we will look at unique texts that seem to be first found in the Machzor Vitry and now form a well accepted part of the Haggadah, variations to our current liturgy and we will also present interesting insight in to the Haggadah liturgy of the Machzor Vitry.

A brief survey of manuscript and early printed Haggadot

We will first present a survey of the earliest Haggadot that were composed similar to the Haggadah how we are familiar with it today it in its current form. As mentioned, the first version of the Haggadah is in the Mishnah in tractate Pesachim (chapter 10). This text can be found below. It is assumed that, as with the liturgy of prayers, the main body of the Haggadah was composed by the Men of the Great Assembly during the time of the second Temple period. However, as is obvious from the Talmudic discussions, the precise text continued to be a matter of discussion and debate.

The first to compose a text that was accepted throughout all Jewish communities was Rabbi Amram Gaon (died 875), who was head of the Jewish Talmud Academy of Sura in the 9th century. Approximately sixty years later, his successor, Rabbi Saadia Gaon (892 – 942), composed a Haggadah with some changes and emendations.

These two texts provided the basis for two of the subsequent most important versions of the Haggadah, the Machzor Vitry and Maimonides.

The oldest extant version of the Haggadah dates from the tenth century and is part of the Siddur of Saadiah ben Yosef Gaon. There is no known manuscript of the entire text in existence, though there is a near complete manuscript in Oxford (Neub. Cat. 1095).

The second oldest but first completely preserved text of the Haggadah is the Machzor Vitry, the subject of our essay. As mentioned, one of three rare manuscripts of the Machzor Vitry is found in the Bodleian library in Oxford with some additions. Thus, two of the most important manuscripts that form the world wide accepted Haggadah today are found in the Bodleian library in Oxford.

The Machzor Vitry Haggadah, as Saadia’s Haggadah, however, is not a separate work but is a part of a general prayer book with liturgy for the whole year and contains also commentary and many laws and traditions. The Machzor Vitry, composed by a student of Rashi, is assumed to be similar to the text of the prayer book by Rashi, called Siddur Rashi.

The first separate Haggadah fragments that exist are found in the Cairo Genizah. The first complete separate Haggadot that have been preserved are from the 13th – 14th century. There are three categories to these works, Sephardi editions, Ashkenazi and Italian.

The Spehardic Haggadot contains, in addition to the actual text, miniatures depicting Biblical images that are not necessarily directly connected to the Haggadah text. The most important manuscripts in this category are the Kauffmann Haggadah (Spain 14th century), the Sarajevo Haggadah (Barcelona, 14th century) and the Golden Haggadah (Spain, 1320).

The Ashkenazi Haggadot, from Germany and France, contain contextual illustrations, and the most famous include the Darmstadt Haggadah (15th century) and the Birds’ Head Hagagdah (Franconia, Southern Germany, ca. 1300), which is the earliest illustrated Ashkenazi Haggadah to have survived as a separate book. Its name is derived from the human figures depicted in the Haggadah, who have birds’ heads with pronounced beaks. The enigmatic practice of drawing bird and animal heads in place of human faces is found in other medieval Ashkenazi manuscripts but has yet to be fully explained, though it may relate to the Biblical prohibition against making graven images. Reflecting the times, all the adult males in the Haggadah wear the conical “Jewish hat” that was compulsory for Jews in Germany during the Middle Ages.

The third category of Haggadah manuscripts are Italian and include the Pesaro Siddur (Pesaro, Italy, 1481). One can include in this category also the famous Washington Haggadah (1478) that is believed to have been produced by Joel ben Simeon in Germany and then brought to Italy before coming to Washington. It currently resides in the Library of Congress.

Printed Haggadah

The earliest confirmed date of the printing of the Haggadah is in 1485 by Joshua Solomon ben Israel Nathan of Soncino, Italy.

Another early printed separate Haggadah was produced in Guadalajara, Spain, and is speculated to have been created by Shlomo ben Moshe Alkabez in 1482, though this date is unconfirmed.

Four further printed versions of the Haggadah were published in the 16th and 17th centuries, whose graphic layout and ornamentation influenced the subsequent printed form of the Haggadah. These include the Prague Haggadah of Gershom ben Sholom HaKohen (1526), which is ranked one of the most beautiful books printed in the Renaissance, the Matua Haggadah (1560), the Venice Haggadah (1609) and the Amsterdam Haggadah (1695). The Amsterdam Haggadah illustrations became very popular and were imitated in to the 18th century. Following the first printing of the Haggadah in Soncino in 1485, there have been an estimated 2,700 subsequent printings of the Haggadah, making it one of the most printed books of liturgy in Judaism.

Machzor Vitry

Due to the extensive development of the Haggadah and the enormous evolution of the manuscript and printed copying of the Haggadah, it is of interest to look at the one of the earliest manuscript forms of the Haggadah extant and identify unique approaches introduced in this ancient manuscript.

In the Haggadah text there are two aspects. One is the essential core of the text, including the Biblical readings pertaining to the slavery of the Hebrews in Egypt and the Exodus, and peripheral aspects of the Haggadah, which include the order, additional Piyutim liturgy, instructions, closing hymns, titles of sections and the title of the work itself, much of which has no source in the first formulation of the Haggadah in the Mishnah.

In this essay, we will look at a number of variations that are evident in the Machzor Vitry in comparison with other medieval Haggadah manuscripts, particularly Maimonides and the version of the Haggadah we have today.

The name of the Haggadah

We find four names given to the Haggadah. The Mishnah itself, as below, does not seem to ascribe any name to the text that should be recited at the Passover Seder. It merely states: They poured for him the second cup, and here the son asks his father: “How is this night different from all other nights? According to the understanding of the son, his father teaches him. He begins with disgrace and concludes with praise, and he expounds from “An Aramean sought to destroy my father,” (Deuteronomy 26:5) until he concludes the entire section.”

It appears that the Mishna emphasises the concept of teaching and the disgrace and praise of the Jewish people. In the Talmud (Pesachim 116a) there are two opinions as to what is meant by disgrace and praise. Rav said, we recite: Originally our ancestors were idol worshippers, etc. Shmuel said, we recite: we were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt. The Talmud continues that Rav Nachman indeed commenced with, we were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt and completed the Haggadah with praises and expression of gratitude to G-d.

Thus, one can understand that according to the Mishna the text of the Hagaddah is fundamentally a work of praise of G-d, who saved us from distress. The word Haggadah however is not used in the Mishnah.

The first time a specific title for the liturgy seems to be offered is in the Talmud, where we find two terms. In tractate Pesachim (116b) it states, Rav Acha bar Yaakov said: a blind person is exempt from reciting the “Haggadah”. The Talmud challenges this statement: Mereimar has said: I once asked the Rabbis of Rav Yosef’s academy, who was the one that recited the “Aggadata” in Rav Yosef’s house? They said in reply Rav Yosef. This is despite the fact that he was blind! The Talmud answers that the Rabbis hold that Matzah nowadays and, the recounting of the Exodus, is only a Rabbinic obligation and therefore may include also the blind.

Similarly, the Talmud (p. 115b) asks what the reason is for the washing of the hands twice on the Seder night. The Talmud answers because there are two dippings of vegetables. One is the Carpas vegetable and the second the Maror bitter herbs, each one requiring the washing of the hands beforehand. The Talmud further questions why there is not a single washing for both dippings? The Talmud answers that since one must recite the “Aggadata” and “Hallel” (praises) between the two dippings, perhaps one will become distracted during that interval and touch an unclean thing with one’s hands.

We can deduce from the two words juxtaposed – Aggadata and Praise – that the word used for the Haggadah in the 5th century, Haggadah or Aggadata does not mean praise but “to tell”, the other simple meaning of the word Haggadah. This is derived from the Hebrew word in Exodus (13:8): “You should tell (Vehigadata) your son on that day”. The Babylonian Talmudic meaning of the word Haggadah therefore means “to tell the story of the Exodus”.

The Jerusalemite Translation of the Torah implies that the word Haggadah actually means “to praise” G-d for taking us out of Egypt. This is based on the Jerusalemite translation of the verse in Deuteronomy (26:3): “I praise (Higadeti hayom) this day”.

Rabbi Saadia Gaon also translates the word Higadeti as praise.

The most common word Haggadah can therefore mean either to tell the story of the Exodus or to praise G-d for the Exodus. However it is interesting that while Maimonides in Mishneh Torah (Laws of Matza “Text of the Haggadah” uses the term Haggadah, the Machzor Vitry diverges from this precise title and uses the word “Aggadah”, as referring to the text of the liturgy of Pesach.

One can assume that if Machzor Vitry uses the term Aggadah for the liturgy, as is likely his teacher Rashi would have done so as well, and the Ashkenazi world would have likely followed his example, as opposed to the Sephardic communities who would have followed Maimonides, who uses the term Hagagdah.

It is not clear what the reason for this difference is between the Ashkenazic and Sephardic communities of the 11th and 12th centuries and at what point they united, choosing the now common name Haggadah, generally adopted regardless whether one is of the Ashkenazic or Sephardic tradition.

The structural order of the evening - Seder

The Haggadah that is commonly used structures the Seder evening into fifteen steps: Kadesh - the recitation of Kiddush; Urchatz - washing the hands; Karpas - eating a vegetable dipped in salt-water; Yachatz - breaking of the middle matzo; Maggid - the recitation of the Haggadah; Rachtzah – washing of the hands a second time; Motze - the recitation of the blessing hamotzi; Matzah - the recitation of the blessing on the matzo, eating the matzo; Morror - eating the bitter herbs; Korech - eating a sandwich of matzo and bitter herbs; Shulchan Oruch -eating the festive meal; Tzafun - eating the afikomen; Bayrech – the recitation of grace; Hallel - the recitation of Hallel psalms of praise; Nirtzah - our prayer that G-d accepts our service.

This specific listing of the order of the Seder is neither found in the Mishnah, Talmud and also not in Maimonides. However it is common in all Haggadot today.

The first Haggadah that seems to have a listing is the Machzor Vitry, which states that “this is the order set by our teacher Rabbi Shlomo (Rashi). However, the list does not have fifteen listings but fourteen, as it leaves out from the list (not the procedure) the breaking of the Matza in half - Yachatz.

Interestingly, the Machzor Vitry itself quotes Rabbi Yosi Hagadol who lists twenty four items, which merely breaks the list down into more categories.

Maimonides doesn’t have a list of the Seder procedure in his Haggadah liturgy at all. However, Rabbi Avraham ben Harambam quotes the order his father, Maimonides, established containing fifteen items in total, albeit very different wording to the list we have today. It is similar to the poetic list that the Machzor Vitry writes himself, as opposed to Rashi’s version, but condensed into a list of fifteen items. Maimonides is thus closer to the number that we have today, while the wording of Rashi, quoted in the Machzor Vitry, for the first time, is identical to the version we have today, though missing one item - Yachatz.

This is the bread of affliction

One of the most interesting and enigmatic parts of the Haggadah is the opening paragraph:

“This is the bread of affliction that our fathers ate in the land of Egypt. Whoever is hungry, let him come and eat; whoever is in need, let him come and conduct the Seder of Passover. This year we are here, next year in the land of Israel. This year we are slaves, next year free people.”

This is the only section of the Haggadah that is recited in Aramaic, as opposed to the rest of the Haggadah in Hebrew. In all the modern Haggadah liturgies the paragraph is indeed in Aramaic, aside for the words in Hebrew “next year”, which is in Hebrew, and written twice, once pertaining to exile versus Israel, and a second time relating to slavery versus freedom.

This is also found in the Machzor Vitry Haggadah that has the whole paragraph in Aramaic aside from the words – twice - “next year”.

Maimonides similarly writes the paragraph in Aramaic but writes the first “next year” pertaining to the land of Israel in Hebrew - L’shana haba’ah - whereas the words “next year” pertaining to being free people in Aramaic - l’shasa d’asya, as the rest of the paragraph.

Why is it written in Aramaic?

The Machzor Vitry writes that the reason why this paragraph is in Aramaic is because it predates the Second Temple Haggadah text to when the Jews resided in Babylonia during the first exile, when the vernacular was Aramaic, and the composer desired that everyone should understand what is being said in this fundamental paragraph.

According to the Machzor Vitry, the paragraph is essentially inviting those who don’t have Matza to come and eat the Matza and those who need to partake in the foods that are connected with the Pesach offering, including the bitter herbs and the Afikomon, should come and partake in the traditions and laws of the holiday. The opening “This is the bread of affliction” is indicating that the person should raise the Matza when this is announced.

At the end of the paragraph, when it says ‘this year we are here as slaves’, it is referring to the status of the Jews in Babylon as slaves and the prayer is the hope that they will go out from slavery as free people and return to Israel.

We thus see a difference between the Ashkenazi custom established by the Machzor Vitry to recite the section in Aramaic, besides the repeated words “next year”, and the Sephardic tradition to only recite “next year” once in Hebrew – referring to the prayer to be in the land of Israel next year.

This might reflect the attitudes towards the level of persecution between these two communities, whereby the sentiment to return to Israel was politically less problematic at the time than the desire to be free, which might have been seen as a call to resist against the presiding authorities of the times.

Translate – Veloez!

At the end of this paragraph, as well as at the end of the following “Mah Nishtana” - Why is this night different than all other nights - paragraph, the Machzor Vitry writes a word which is not found in any printed Haggadah: “Veloez” (Translate!)

The reason for this is that the main purpose of the first paragraph “This is the bread of affliction” is to stimulate the questions in the second paragraph. After the raising of the plate with the Matza and inviting everyone to eat and partake of the Matza and the uncommon bitter herbs, the children should be provoked to ask “Why is this night different from all other nights?” It is therefore important that both paragraphs should be translated into whatever language was the vernacular of the Jews at the particular time.

The statement by the Machzor Vitry that the “Mah Nishtana” should also be translated is the source for the custom in many communities that a child recites the “Mah Nishtana” in the Hebrew and then translates it into Yiddish.

According to the Machzor Vitry, then, the paragraph “Mah Nishtana” - Why is this night different, etc. - is not actually meant to be said at all by the adult participants of the Seder. It is merely articulating what should be asked in the vernacular by children in the own words.

The reason for the question is due to the need for the Haggadah to be recited in the form of a question and answer, based on the verse in Deuteronomy (6:20): “If your child asks you tomorrow, etc. you shall say to your child, we were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt”. The liturgy of the Haggadah is merely to articulate the question but need not be a precise text.

The Talmud illustrates this point (Pesachim 115b): Abaye as a child was sitting at the Seder table before Rabbah and he saw that they were lifting the traylike table and removing it from before Rabbah. Abaye said to them: we have not yet eaten and they come and remove the tray from before us! Rabbah said to him: You have exempted us from saying the Mah Nishtanah.

If the child is not clever enough to ask the questions contained in “Why is this night different” - even in the simplest form - following the stimulation of the declaration “This is the bread of affliction” and removal of the tray, then the Mah Nishtana needs to be recited.

Why is this night different from all other nights?

The four questions is the first part of the Haggadah liturgy that is found in the Mishnah and dates back to the Second Temple period when Hebrew was spoken as the vernacular. The order, however, of the four questions vary amongst the early works.

The Mishna lists the questions as follows: “How is this night different from all other nights? For on all nights we eat hametz and matzah, this night is all matzah. For on all nights we eat all types of vegetables, this night maror bitter herbs. On all the nights we eat roasted, shaluk stewed, and cooked meat, this night it is all roasted. For on all nights we dip once, this night twice.”

It is evident that the Mishnaic version is from when the Temple stood, when they offered the Pesach offering and roasted it before eating.

The early extant manuscript versions of the four questions, however, have all been modified since the destruction of the Temple in 70AD, as there is no purpose for the question about the Pesach sacrifice.

The Machzor Vitry lists the four questions similar to the Mishna, merely omitting to the Pesach sacrifice question and substitutes it with the question about the custom to recline while eating the Matza and drinking the wine at the Seder. The order of the four questions according to the Machzor Vitry is then: Matza, bitter herbs, dipping and reclining. The first three questions do not appear to have been changed in their order.

Maimonides in his liturgy of the Haggadah in Mishneh Torah seems to change the actual order of the four questions: first comes the question of dipping, then Matza, followed by bitter herbs and finally reclining.

According to commentaries, as is evident, the reason for this change in order of the first three original questions is to reflect the order of events that is presented to the child at the Seder dinner. First there is the dipping of the vegetable in salt water, to remind of the slavery, then the eating of the Matza, followed by the bitter herbs.

The reclining is added last, even though it accompanies the drinking of the wine and the eating of the Matza that comes earlier since the question was added later in history compared to the other questions. It only became a question after the period when it was no longer customary to recline when dining. As such, it is listed last according to all opinions.

While Maimonides’ opinion is different from the Mishna in the Babylonian Talmud, it follows the order found in the Jerusalemite Talmud (Mishna) that lists the question of the dipping first. The version of Maimonides is similar to the earliest versions of the Haggadah, including Rabbi Amram Gaon and Rabbi Saadia Gaon, and it is also the order found in the first printed Haggadah in Soncino, 1485.

The order of the Machzo Vitry seems then to follow an opinion that was not adopted by the Babylonian Gaonim who preceded him and also diverges from the Sephardic communities of Maimonides in Spain and other places.

It can be assumed that the order of the four questions in the “Mah Nishtana” was a subject of argument between the Sephardic and Ashkenazic communities and the difference in versions are also apparent today, as one of the main differences between the two communities’ Haggadot. The Ashkenazim follow the Machzor Vitry order of the four questions and the Sehardic communities, as well as Chabad editions, follow the Sephardic order.

The possibility of this divergence of opinions might be due different versions of Talmud manuscripts that are known to have existed. It is known that Maimonides had knowledge of old manuscripts of the Talmud, particularly from Yemen, that were slightly different in certain places than the Talmud we have today, on which he evidently bases some of his rulings (see Rabbi Eli’s essay on the Mishneh Torah manuscript at the Bodleian library).

It’s possible that for this reason in the Mishneh Torah, laws of Chametz and Matza (ch. 8:2), Maimonides lists five questions during the Temple period, including: dipping, Matza, bitter herbs, Pesach offering roasted and reclining.

Conclusion about the four questions – importance of asking a question

The reason for various versions of manuscripts of the Talmud relating to the four questions might be due to the nature of the four questions themselves. The order and number of questions are less important than their content. Even a simple question “Why?” is sufficient to allow the recitation of the Haggadah about the slavery and the exodus to proceed, as explained earlier.

The modern dispute between the Ashkenazi and Sephardi liturgies based on the version of the Machzor Vitry and Maimonides is not particularly relevant and has no implications, as long as the question “Why is this night different?” is asked.

Great Nation

Another interesting difference found in the Machzor Vitry Haggadah is pertaining to the text of the Haggadah referring to the Jews in Egypt as merely a distinct nation or a great nation. The narrative of the Haggadah has two principle parts, based on two opinions in the Talmud (Rav and Shmuel, tractate Pesachim ch. 10), that were both adopted in the accepted text of the Haggadah. One is relating to the transition of the Jews from slaves to freedom. The second is the narrative that predates the slavery in Egypt, when the ancestors of the Biblical Patriarchs were idol worshippers and their being brought to the service of G-d as a distinct nation.

As part of this history the Jews went down to Egypt few in number – seventy souls - and arose as a nation. This is drawn from the verse in Deuteronomy (22:10): “With seventy souls, Your forefathers descended to Egypt, and now the Lord, your God, has made you as the stars of heaven in abundance.”

Following this passage it states in the Haggadah: “And he became there a nation – this teaches that Israel was distinctive there”. The Machzor Vitry, as a few other versions, adds to the above text and writes “And he became there a great nation”.

In the Haggadah of Maimonides, Rabbeinu Sa’adiah Gaon and Rabbi Sherirah Gaon, the word “great” is omitted.

The reason for this might be because the words ‘And he became a nation’ is only relevant to extrapolate the concept that they became a separate and distinct nation while in Egypt. The meaning to this is, as quoted in the notes to the Machzor Vitry Haggadah, quoting from the Midrash Exodus Rabbah, that while in Egypt the Jews did not assimilate by changing their food customs or clothes, making themselves distinct as a separate nation.

The word ‘great’ in this context, therefore, does not add to this idea in any way. In addition, the word ‘great’ is indeed mentioned in the following extrapolation in the Haggadah: “Great and Mighty – as it is said (Exodus 1:7): And the children of Israel were fruitful and increased abundantly, and multiplied and became very, very mighty, and the land became filled with them.” The first “great” becomes therefore redundant.

It is interesting therefore that the Machzor Vitry does include the word “great” in this context, as does the Haggadah of the great liturgist Rabbi David ben Josef Abudarham (fl. 1340, Seville Spain). The obvious reason is due to the fact that it is a continuation of the verse: “With seventy souls, Your forefathers descended to Egypt, and now the Lord, your G-d, has made you as the stars of heaven in abundance”, indicating in this same verse that not only did they became a nation but they became a great nation.

It could be suggested that the Machzor Vitry is indicating that the word “great” here is not referring only to their fruitfulness in terms of offspring but to explain that a nation that lived in Egypt for over two hundred years and held on to their distinct customs without assimilating deserves the term “great”.

__________

Original Mishna text of the Haggadah - Mishna Tractate Pesachim (chapter 10)

Preparation

(3) They then set [vegetables] before him, he dips the lettuce until he comes to parperet ha-pat [the eating of the matzah, i.e., one may not eat anything between the vegetables and the matzah]. They set before him matzah, lettuce, haroset, and two dishes, even though the haroset is not an obligation. Rabbi Eliezer the son of Zadok says: It is an obligation. And in the Temple they would set before him the body of the Pesah sacrifice.

Outline of Haggadah text

(4) They poured for him [the] second cup, and here the son asks his father. And if the son does not have knowledge [to ask], his father teaches him: “How is this night different from all [other] nights? For on all nights we eat hametz and matzah, this night is all matzah. For on all nights we eat all types of vegetables, this night maror [bitter herbs]. On all the nights we eat roasted, shaluk [stewed], and cooked meat, this night it is all roasted. For on all nights we dip once, this night twice.” According to the understanding of the son, his father teaches him. He begins with disgrace and concludes with praise, and he expounds from “An Aramean sought to destroy my father,” (Deuteronomy 26:5) until he concludes the entire section.

(5) Rabban Gamliel would say, Whoever has not said [i.e., explained] these three things on Pesah has not fulfilled his obligation, and these are: Pesah, matzah, and maror. Pesah, [the sacrifice] because the Omnipresent passed over [pasah] the houses of our fathers in Egypt. Matzah - because our fathers were redeemed from Egypt. Maror - because the Egyptians embittered the lives of our fathers in Egypt. In each generation a man is obligated to regard himself as if he came forth out of Egypt, as it is written “And you shall tell your son on that day, saying, ‘It is because of that which the Lord did for me when I came forth out of Egypt’ ” (Exodus 13:8). Therefore we are obligated to thank, to praise, to laud, to glorify, to exalt, to adorn, to bless, to elevate, and to honour Him Who did all these miracles for our fathers and for us; He brought us forth from slavery to freedom, from grief to joy, from mourning to Festival, from darkness to a great light, and from servitude to redemption. And we shall say before Him, Halleluy-ah.

(6) Until where does he recite? The School of Shammai say, Until “As a joyful mother of children;” while the School of Hillel say, Until “The flint into a fountain of waters.” And he concludes with [a blessing of] redemption. Rabbi Tarfon says, “Who has redeemed us and has redeemed our fathers from Egypt,” and he would not conclude [with a “Blessed ...” formulation]. Rabbi Akiva says, [It is necessary to add] “So may the Lord our God and the God of our fathers cause us to reach other holidays and Festivals which come to us in peace, joyous in the building of Your city and happy in Your service, and may we eat there from the [hagigah] sacrifices and from the Pesah sacrifices ...” until “Blessed are You, O Lord, Who redeemed Israel.”

Oxford’s Maimonides manuscript disputes the design of the Temple Menorah

Thu, 23 Feb 2012 6:04:00 PM

Oxford’s Bodleian library is known for its rare collection of Hebrew manuscripts including some of the most important manuscripts of the great Jewish legalist and philosopher Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, known as Maimonides or by his Hebrew acronym Rambam (1138-1204). One of these Oxford manuscripts includes Maimonides’ rare and invaluable own handwritten work of his Commentary to the Mishnah, known in Hebrew as Pirush Hamishnayot, written in Judea Arabic (MSS 1655).

This manuscript was brought to Oxford by the great collector of Hebrew and Arabic manuscripts in the East, Professor Edward Pocock, who was born and passed away in Oxford (1604-1691). Prof. Pocock was appointed to the professorship of Hebrew at Oxford in 1647 and had a valuable collection of 420 oriental manuscripts, which was bought by Oxford University in 1693 for £600. Some of his printed books were acquired by the Bodleian in 1822, by bequest from the Rev. C. Francis of Brasenose.

The manuscript of Maimonides’ Commentary to the Mishnah was purchased by Prof. Pocock between 1630 and 1635 after he was appointed to the chaplaincy to the English 'Turkey Merchants' at Aleppo in 1629, where he resided for over five years. During this time, he made himself master of Arabic, which he not only read but spoke fluently, studied Hebrew, Samaritan, Syriac and Ethiopic, and associated on friendly terms with learned Muslims and Jews, who helped him in collecting manuscripts. In his view, this was one of the chief reasons why he accepted the post, and in which he seems to have been extremely successful.

In this essay we will look at some unique aspects of this manuscript of Maimonides relating to the shape and design of one of the most familiar Jewish symbols, the Jerusalem Temple Menorah candelabra that can be find in synagogues and homes around the world. This Oxford manuscript features in an important dispute regarding two aspects of the Menorah: the shape and position of the goblets that were designed to be positioned on the six branches and the shape of the branches of the candelabra itself, whether they were round or diagonal.

We will explore in this essay the debate surrounding the design and position of the Menorah goblets and attempt to explain the view of Maimonides on this subject.

The principle text outlining the design of the Menorah candelabra is found in the Book of Exodus (25:31-40). It sates:

“And you shall make a menorah of pure gold. The menorah shall be made of hammered work; its base and its stem, its goblets, its knobs, and its flowers shall all be one piece with it. And six branches coming out of its sides: three menorah branches from its one side and three menorah branches from its second side. Three decorated goblets on one branch, a knob and a flower, and three decorated goblets on one branch, a knob and a flower; so for the six branches that come out of the menorah. And on the stem of the menorah shall be four decorated goblets, its knobs and its flowers. And a knob under the two branches from it, and a knob under the two branches from it, and a knob under the two branches from it; so for the six branches that come out of the menorah. Their knobs and their branches shall all be one piece with it; all of it shall be one hammered mass of pure gold. And you shall make its lamps seven, and he shall kindle its lamps so that they shed light toward its face. And its tongs and its scoops shall be of pure gold. He shall make it of a talent of pure gold, with all these implements. Now see and make according to their pattern, which you are shown on the mountain.”

The Biblical text does not however explain the precise design or shape of the goblets.

The Talmud (Menachot 28b) states: “to what are these goblets similar in terms of their design? They are akin to Alexandrian cups”.

11th century Biblical and Talmud commentator Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki (1040-1105) explains in his commentary on the above Talmud that “these cups were manufactured in Alexandria, Egypt, and that they were long and narrow”. He uses the Old French term maderins, which is believed to have meant in his day long stemmed goblets.

Maimonides, in his Commentary to the Mishnah (Menachot 3), clarifies “the goblets were narrow at the bottom.” This would mean they were similar to the top part of a modern day cocktail glass.

Maimonides, in his legal code Mishneh Torah, similarly interprets the Talmud description of Alexandrian cups (Beit Hab’chirah 3:9): “The goblets resembled Alexandrine chalices. They had wide mouths and narrow bases”

Maimonides in his Mishneh Torah and Rashi in his commentaries, however, remain silent how these goblets with their narrow base and wide top are meant to be positioned on the Menorah itself. Are they supposed to be facing up or down? The Biblical text certainly doesn’t seem to answer this question, and neither does the Talmud.

In the Oxford manuscript of Maimonides’ Commentary to the Mishnah, however, there is a rare hand drawn picture of the Menorah, by Maimonides himself, in which he surprisingly describes the goblets as triangular shaped and positioned not upright but upside down with the narrow end above and the wide part below.

This opinion of Maimonides seems to be unique and indeed astonishing.

Medieval Jewish philosopher and Talmudist, Gersonides (1288–1344), known as the Ralbag, an acronym of his Hebrew name Rabbi Levi ben Gershon, in fact, argues with Maimonides and states that the mouth of the goblets were on top.

This seems to be also the view of 13th century Biblical exegete Rabbi Hezekiah ben Manoah, known as Hizkuni, of France, as is also the view of 12th century French tosafist, exegete, and poet, Rabbi Joseph ben Isaac Bekhor Shor of Orleans.

Their position is compounded by the reason they give for their view. They explain the reason that the goblet should be positioned upright is so that if the oil in the lamps overflows it will be caught in the goblets below. However, this would not be possible according to Maimonides.

To be sure, Maimonides in his Commentary to the Mishnah himself qualifies his drawing of the Menorah by stating that his drawing is not meant to be an accurate design of the Menorah but rather a rough sketch merely to show the number of goblets and their location. However, it’s hard to assume from the above statement that he would have placed the goblets upside down had Maimonides not opined that this is in fact the design the Biblical text intended for the Menorah.

An important commentator on the works of Maimonides is his son Rabbi Abraham ben Moses ben Maimon, known as Rabbeinu Avraham ben Ha-Rambam (1186 - 1237), who succeeded his father as Nagid (head) of the Egyptian Jewish community. It is not clear whether he sides with his father in the above dispute or Gersonides. In his commentary to the Mishnah he only writes that the goblets were wide on top and narrow below, similar to Gersonides. He could however be relating to the shape of the goblet but not its position on the Menorah.

We have thus an important practical dispute about the design of the Temple Menorah reflected in the drawing found in the Oxford manuscript of Maimonides’ Commentary to the Mishnah.

It’s not however understood why from a philosophical point of view Maimonides would differ from the obvious rational position of Gersonides that the goblets were positioned on the Menorah in their natural form, the right way up?

Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneersohn, known as the Rebbe, argues in his work Likkutei Sichot (vol. 21 p. 165) that Maimonides views the Temple with a double purpose. On one hand it is a place for the Divine presence to rest, as it states in the book of Exodus (25:8) “And they shall make Me a sanctuary and I will dwell in their midst”.

Another element is to illuminate the world outside the Temple with the presence of the Divine. This is reflected in the statement of the Talmud (Menachot 86b) that “the design of the Menorah shows that G-d does not need its light but rather it is a testimony for all mankind that the Divine presence dwells with Israel in the Tabernacle.”

This is indicated, according to the Talmud, by the fact that the windows in the Temple were wide on the outside and narrow on the inside, based on the verse (Kings I 6:4), “He made for the house windows that were wide and narrow.”

The mid 13th century Rabbi Bahye ben Asher ibn Halawa, also known as Rabbeinu Behaye, applies this idea also to the goblets of the Menorah. He writes in his Biblical commentary (Exodus 25:31) that the concept of the goblets was not practical for the overflow of the oil but a symbol of the spiritual function of the Menorah itself, indicating the receiving of the Divine presence and its pouring forth out to the world and mankind.

It is in line with this concept of the Menorah, the Rebbe argues, why the goblets were positioned in an overturned arrangement.

The convergence of the philosophy on liberty of Sir Isaiah Berlin and the Lubavitcher Rebbe

Thu, 2 Feb 2012 4:25:00 PM

Sir Isaiah Berlin (1909-1997) was the distinguished Chichele Professor of Political Theory at All Souls College, University of Oxford, and is generally viewed as one of the greatest minds of the 20th century, universally known for his essay Two Concepts of Liberty, delivered in 1958.

In this essay, we will explore how Sir Isaiah’s essay on two concepts of liberty converges with an essay on liberty by his distant cousin, one of the greatest Jewish leaders of the 20th century, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson (1902-1994), known as the Rebbe, who is widely recognised as having positively transformed world Jewry after the Holocaust.

Family

The familial relation between the Rebbe and Sir Isaiah is recorded by Henry Hardy in Isaiah Berlin Flourishing Letters 1928-1946. They were both descendents of the 3rd Rebbe of Lubavitch, Menachem Mendel Schneerson, known as the Tzemach Tzedek (1789 - 1866), after his major work on Jewish law. The Tzemach Tzedek married Chaya Mushka, granddaughter of the founder of Chabad, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812), known as the Alter Rebbe, and had six children, five sons and a daughter.

The Rebbe, also called Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the 7th Rebbe of Lubavitch, was descendent from the oldest son of the Tzemach Tzedek, Boruch Sholom, and his wife, Chaya Mushka, from the youngest son, Rabbi Shmuel, known as the Maharash, the fourth Rebbe of Lubavitch.

Sir Isaiah’s family descended from the daughter of the Tzemach Tzedek, Freida.

In brief, Freida married Schneur Schneerson, grandson of the 2nd Rebbe of Lubavitch, Rabbi Dov Ber, son of Rabbi Schneur Zalman, and had a daughter Frumma (c.1814-1916) and Chayetta (1842-1917). Frumma married Benjamin Zuckerman and had a son, Dov Ber Zuckerman (1865-1941). Dov Ber Zuckerman had a son Mendel Berlin (1884-1953), whose son was Sir Isaiah Berlin.

The name Isaiah is, however, actually after the great, great uncle of Sir Isaiah, as Chayetta Schneerson married Rabbi Isaiah Berlin senior (1841-1908), who adopted his nephew, Dov Ber Zuckerman (later Berlin), Mendel Berlin’s father, Sir Isaiah’s grandfather.

Incidentally, another famous relation of both the Rebbe and Sir Isaiah was Yehudi Menuhin (1916-1999), also descendent of the 3rd Rebbe of Lubavitch, although from another son, Yisroel Noach.

Sir Isaiah was thus 5th generation from the 3rd Rebbe of Lubavitch, the Tzemach Tzedek, and the Rebbe was fourth generation.

To what extent they knew each other personally is impossible to know, as Isaiah’s name does not appear in any of the Rebbe’s voluminous works and neither does the Rebbe appear in those of Sir Isaiah’s letters.

Correspondence between 6th Rebbe and Mendel Berlin

It is however known that Sir Isaiah knew of the previous Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Schneerson (1880-1950), the father in-law of the Rebbe. When Sir Isaiah was in NY in 1941 working for the British Foreign Office, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok corresponded with Sir Isaiah to find out about Sir Isaiah’s father, Mendel Berlin.

Among Isaiah’s letters are in fact two letters that mentions this correspondence (page 364 and 429). In one letter to his parents from Devon Hotel, on West 55th Street, New York, Sir Isaiah writes that Rabbi (Yosef Yitzchok) Schneerson wants to get in touch via his son in law, Rabbi Shemaryahu Gurary (Rashag), and sends greetings.

Similarly, writing from the British Embassy in Washington, DC, Sir Isaiah writes that Dr. Nissan Mindel, secretary of Rabbi I. Schneerson, has written asking for Mendel Berlin’s address and Sir Isaiah offers to forward the letters.

Close bond between senior Rabbi Isaiah (Shaya) Berlin and first cousin Rabbi Sholom Dov Ber Schneerson

While there does not appear to have been a close relationship between the 6th Rebbe of Lubavitch, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Schneerson, and Sir Isaiah, there was certainly a very close bond between the families when one traces them back to a previous generation.

According to the Mendel Berlin’s family tree recorded in his memoir, published in the appendix to The Book of Isaiah, edited by Henry Hardy, Rabbi Isaiah Berlin senior and father of Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok, Rabbi Sholom Dovber, 5th Rebbe of Lubavitch, were first cousins. Rabbi Isaiah Berlin married Chayetta Schneerson (1842-1917), as mentioned earlier, and her mother, Freida’s, nephew was Rabbi Sholom Dovber, 5th Rebbe of Lubavitch, son of Rabbi Shmuel, her youngest brother.

There are about fifty published letters between Rabbi Sholom Dov Ber Schneerson and Rabbi Isaiah Berlin of Riga, dated from the Hebrew date 6 Tevet until 22 Iyar 5663, corresponding to January to May, 1903.

These letters can be found in the five volume set of Hebrew letters of Rabbi Sholom Dov Ber Schneerson, Igeret Hakodesh. In Igeret Hakodesh, vol. 3, (p. 58), there is also a brief biography of Rabbi Isaiah senior, which describes the close relationship between them. It states: “Rabbi Isaiah (Yeshaya) Berlin was a very wealthy man and the principle supporter of the Yeshiva “Tomchei Temimim” that Rabbi Sholom Dov Ber Schneerson founded in the town of Lubavitch, as well as his other activities. The main business of Isaiah Berlin was the purchasing of forests, cutting its wood and selling beams. In every detail pertaining to his business, purchase and sale, he would consult the Rebbe, Rabbi Sholom Dov Ber Schneerson, and the Rebbe would answer him in detail.”

In Mendel Berlin’s above mentioned memoir, he also writes about his “grand uncle Shaya” but does not mention his inter-family philanthropy. He writes (p. 284), they (Shaya and Chayetta) were the “millionaires of the family, made their money in timber, chiefly by buying in his young days forest estates with the land, which have in course of time grown enormously in value. Shaya was practically the first Jewish timber exporter and saw-miller in Riga, which business he started about 1880.”

Mendel further describes him as "born and bred as a pious Chassid" and having a "very gay and generous nature". He was very philanthropic, contributed to public, mostly orthodox, funds and was the recognised undisputed leader of orthodox Jewry in Riga. Mendel adds that when Shaya died in 1908 he left legacies for his father, his brothers and himself, and this legacy certainly helped him in starting business on his own.

In the Select biographical glossary in Isaiah Berlin Flourishing Letters (p. 704), it quotes Sir Isaiah as saying that his father, Mendel Berlin, was “a timber and bristle trader, had an excellent brain and was always fairly, though not very, comfortably well off.”

It seems that it was this legacy, left by Shaya that allowed Mendel Berlin to start his own business and live fairly comfortably, that also permitted Mendel and his family to immigrate to England, buy a house in London and put his son Isaiah through St Paul’s school in London and Oxford.

This presents an interesting historical connection between Sir Isaiah in Oxford and his familial connection with the Schneersons. From the above footnote in Iggeret Hakodesh and the many letters between the senior Isaiah and Rabbi Shlomo Dov Ber, it is obvious that the connection between the Schneerson and Berlin families was not just as relatives but also personal, spiritual and material, as evident from the content of the letters.

Philosophical convergence between the Rebbe and Sir Isaiah

In this essay, we would like to suggest that although the above close relationship did not seem to have continued into the second half of the 20th century, intellectually, however, one can find a convergence between the ideas found in the thought of the Rebbe from a Jewish philosophical perspective and Sir Isaiah.

We would like to propose that the dichotomy between negative liberty and positive liberty in Two Concepts of Liberty, delivered famously in Sir Isaiah’s inaugural lecture in 1958 for the Chichele chair of political theory at All Souls college, University of Oxford, might also be found in the philosophy of the Rebbe in a lecture delivered in 1980, drawing on the 13th century Jewish philosopher and legalist Rabbi Moses ben Maimon, known as Maimonides (1135-1204), in relation to the Exodus.

The two concepts of liberty, in brief, presented by Sir Isaiah, can be understood as follows: Negative liberty is the absence of constraints or interference with individual action, as in a person being free to vote, write a book, or study art. Positive liberty is the human capacity for self-development and determination of one’s own destiny. For example, some people live in countries without negative liberties, which in turn hampers their positive liberty. Others with positive liberties may not be able to fully exercise them due to economic or social limitations.

Isaiah Berlin argued that, largely due to the Romantic and German idealist tradition, political theorists had been preoccupied with positive liberties as effects of particular forms of government. He believed that the idea of positive liberty was co-opted by both German national socialism and communism. In the case of communism, the goal of liberty became identical to the goal of state control in the name of “collective rationality.” For the Nazis, it was the destiny of Germany and its “master race” that became an overriding value affecting individual lives.

Berlin was an advocate of negative liberty in the tradition of John Stuart Mill (1806–1873), which emphasized the importance of minimal government constraint. In other words, he did not think government was a viable source of values or projects for individual life plans because when government did assume that function it was likely to become totalitarian and repressive.

Sir Isaiah for much of his life was critical of positive liberty, due to its historic associations, though towards the end of his life he is presumed to have reviewed his stance and become less critical.

Two concepts of liberty in Jewish philosophy

This distinction between negative and positive liberty can be found also in the thought of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson known as the Rebbe, presented in the context of an interpretation of a Jewish legal text of Maimonides in his Mishneh Torah.

Maimonides writes in Laws of Matza (7:1) pertaining to the Biblical injunction to remember the Exodus from Egypt on the night of Passover, the annual anniversary of the Exodus: “It is a positive commandment of the Torah to relate the miracles and wonders wrought for our ancestors in Egypt on the night of the fifteenth of Hebrew month of Nisan, as it states (Exodus 13:3): "Remember this day, on which you left Egypt," just as states (Exodus 20:8): "Remember the Shabbat day."

The Rebbe poses the question, why is there a need for Maimonides to compare remembering the Exodus to “Remember the Shabbat day”, since the Exodus has its own Biblical scriptural source?

Maimonides, in Sefer Mitzvot, also defines the injunction to remember the Exodus by comparing it to the Sabbath and quotes for this purpose the Midrashic work of the Mechilta. The Mechilta states: "Since the verse says, 'when your son will ask you,' you might think that you are required to discuss the Exodus only when he asks, and not otherwise. Therefore the Scripture states, 'And you shall tell your child,' even if he doesn't ask. I only know of the obligation to discuss the Exodus when the person has a child. How do I know this obligation applies when he is by himself or with others? The verse says, 'And Moses said to the people, "Remember this day" that G‑d commanded us to remember the Exodus just as He commanded us, 'Remember the Shabbat day to sanctify it.' "

The Rebbe rejects however the possibility that the text of Maimonides in Mishneh Torah is drawing on the same teaching of the Mechilta as in the Sefer Mitzvot. In the Sefer Mitzvot it seems the comparison of remembering the Shabbat is in order to clarify a particular aspect of the application of the commandment to remember the Exodus i.e. even when the person has no children and is by oneself. However, this does seem to be the context in Mishneh Torah, where the comparison with the Shabbat is related to the concept of the remembering of the Exodus itself.

Two concepts of rest on the Shabbat

The Rebbe proposes that the source for Maimonides’ text in the Mishneh Torah is not the same as his source in Sefer Mitzvot but rather a text from the Midrash Exodus Rabba (19:7). It states: “Warn Israel that just as I, who created the world, commanded them to observe the Sabbath, as a memorial of the work of creation, as it says: Remember the Sabbath day (Exodus 20:8), so also do you remember the miracle I performed for you in Egypt and the anniversary of the day of your departure, as it says: Remember this day, in which you came out from Egypt (13:3).”

Based on this general comparison in the Midrash between the Exodus and Shabbat, the Rebbe suggests that Maimonides in the Mishneh Torah is attempting to explain not just a particular qualification to the law regarding the Exodus but deriving from the Shabbat the definition of remembering the Exodus itself.

Maimonides defines the remembering of the Shabbat in two forms, positive and negative. In Mishneh Torah, laws of Shabbat (1:1) it states: Resting from labor on the seventh day fulfills a positive commandment, as (Exodus 23:12) states, "And you shall rest on the seventh day." Anyone who performs a labor on this day negates the observance of a positive commandment and also transgresses a negative commandment, for (ibid. 20:10) states, "Do not perform any labor on it."

Maimonides thus defines rest on the Shabbat as two concepts: the positive and the negative - the negative is to refrain from labour and the positive is to positively rest within oneself.

These two concepts of resting on the Shabbat can be found also in the structure of the two Scriptural texts relating to the Sabbath in the Torah.

In Genesis (2:1) it states: “And G-d completed on the seventh day His work that He did, and He abstained on the seventh day from all His work that He did. And G-d blessed the seventh day and He hallowed it, for thereon He abstained from all His work that G-d created to do.” This seems to imply the negative concept of rest from work.

In Exodus, however, it states (20:11): “Remember the Sabbath day to sanctify it. For in six days the Lord made the heaven and the earth, the sea and all that is in them, and He rested on the seventh day. Therefore, the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and sanctified it.” This seems to emphasise the positive concept of rest.

Based on Maimonides’ definition of the two concepts of the Shabbat, the Rebbe argues, Maimonides is proposing that there are also two concepts of liberty: the negative - exodus from servitude of Egypt, and positive - self ownership as a free person.

These two concepts of liberty are found also in Jewish law pertaining to release of slaves in Leviticus. Maimonides in Mishneh Torah laws of Sabbatical and Jubilee writes (10:13-14):

“The observance of three matters are of critical importance with regard to the Jubilee year: the sounding of the shofar, the release of servants, and the return of fields to their owners. This is referred to as ’the release of land.’ From Rosh HaShanah (Jewish New Year) until Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement), servants would not be released to their homes, nor would they be subjugated to their masters, nor would the fields return to their original owners. Instead, the servants would eat, drink, and rejoice, with crowns on their heads. When Yom Kippur arrives and the shofar is sounded in the court, the servants are released to their homes and the fields are returned to their owners.”

By structuring these two stages of releasing of slaves in two distinct stages, it is implying that these two concepts of liberty in Jewish philosophy are by no means one and the same, nor do they happen automatically. The removal of coercion does not necessary imply that one then has positive liberty. Positive liberty is a second stage that only follows if there is an external factor or effort that causes such a state of beain.

For this reason Maimonides defines the concept of remembering the Exodus in the positive, rather than the negative, comparing it to the Sabbath. Maimonides postulates that on the night of Passover, unlike the commandment to remember the Exodus daily, the requirement is not just to see oneself as no longer physically enslaved but as positively free.

Maimonides therefore writes his law in the positive: “It is a positive commandment of the Torah to relate the miracles and wonders wrought for our ancestors in Egypt on the night of the fifteenth of Nisan, as it states (Exodus 13:3): "Remember this day, on which you left Egypt," just as states (Exodus 20:8): "Remember the Sabbath day."

Maimonides is advocating the concept of not just to remember the need to be free from coercion – negative liberty – on the Passover but by relating also about the miracles and wonders that G-d performed, one may achieve an elevated sense of freedom and self ownership – positive freedom.

In the case of the Exodus, the Rebbe proposes that the positive liberty that was given at the Exodus was the concept of nationhood; becoming a people gave the Jews not just absence of external coercion and a foreign power but a positive liberty and self ownership as a people.

Problems with positive freedom

Sir Isaiah however is critical of positive liberty on the grounds that it can lead to oppression and totalitarianism, where the ideals of collective identity can override one’s personal freedoms. This problem is seemingly present also with the Exodus where slavery in Egypt was replaced in the Torah by the constraints of peoplehood and the covenant at Sinai and the six hundred and thirteen commandments of the Torah.

This substitution is expressed by the verse in Leviticus (25:55): “For the children of Israel are servants to Me; they are My servants, whom I took out of the land of Egypt. I am the Lord, your G-d.”

How is this different from the problem of positive liberty that Sir Isaiah poses?

Jewish philosophy addresses this problem with the fundamental notion in Jewish thought - the principle of free choice. Maimonides writes in Mishneh Torah, laws of repentance (3:1-3):

“Free will is granted to all men. If one desires to turn himself to the path of good and be righteous, the choice is his. Should he desire to turn to the path of evil and be wicked, the choice is his. This is the intent of the Torah's statement (Genesis 3:22): "Behold, man has become unique as ourselves, knowing good and evil," i.e., the human species became singular in the world with no other species resembling it in the following quality: that man can, on his own initiative, with his knowledge and thought, know good and evil, and do what he desires. There is no one who can prevent him from doing good or bad.

This principle is a fundamental concept and a pillar [on which rests the totality] of the Torah and mitzvot as (Deuteronomy 30:15) states: "Behold, I have set before you today life and good, death and evil." Similarly, (Deuteronomy 11:26) states, "Behold, I have set before you today (the blessing and the curse)," implying that the choice is in your hands.”

Maimonides thus insists that the concept of positive freedom found in Jewish nationhood and covenant at Sinai cannot be in conflict with the concept of negative liberty, as the covenant at Sinai is founded on the principle of personal freedom to choose.

Positive liberty and Jewish identity

In an essay in April, 1958, published in Hagadah shel Pesach Sharei Hagadah (p. 115), the Rebbe appears to attempt to explain the philosophical concept of positive liberty, six months before Sir Isaiah’s inaugural lecture in Oct, the same year. He explains, everything has its freedom. Vegetation for example is free when it is capable of growing, whereas an animal, if it would receive food and drink but is limited like a plant, unable to move, it would not be free.

Similarly, a human being with intellect is not free even if you allow him or her movement, as long as the person is unable to utilise the intellect to study and learn. The Jewish person then whose identity is a Jewish identity connected to a certain heritage and connection to G-d from Sinai, their true freedom is only when they are able to express that identity through the study of Torah and living by the Divine commandments given to them at Sinai. The essence of the Jew needs to be connected to G-d to have freedom. It was this ability to connect to G-d that was given at Sinai through the covenant.”

Accordingly, the Rebbe is arguing that positive freedom necessarily entails accepting an identity that is connected to one’s true self. The Torah and the Mitzvot would in this context be considered part of the essence of the existence of the Jewish people from Sinai and that would therefore be their positive freedom. The conflict between positive freedom and negative freedom would be only when there is either the expectation of a people to accept a culture that is not naturally their own as their primary culture, or if there is physical coercion, imposing upon a people even their own culture without any free choice.

While Maimonides deals with the problem of positive liberty in relation to freedom to choose, the Rebbe deals with the former problem of moral expectation within Judaism, thus satisfactorily reconciling negative liberty with positive liberty in Jewish philosophy.

Is positive liberty more important than negative liberty?

There is a possibility that in reality, there could be conflict due to politics in a particular country or other reasons between negative liberty and positive liberty and there is a choice to be made for one over the other. This debate took place when Russia was invaded by Napoleon in 1812.

According to historians, a debate raged within the Jewish community whether to support Napoleon or the Tsar. French historian Sir Colin Lucas explains that the debate consisted between those who supported authenticity over liberty or the reverse.

Authenticity of Jewish identity and heritage can be understood as positive freedom, whereas remaining under the Tsar would allow for less freedoms and civil rights for Jews but allow for greater connection to their heritage. Essentially, Napoleon would bring negative liberty but the loss of positive liberty with the enlightenment, whereas life under the Tsar encouraged religious tradition and identity – positive liberty - but les negative liberties.

Interestingly, one of the main rabbis to take a leading stand in this debate was the great ancestor of Sir Isaiah Berlin, the founder of Chabad philosophy, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, known as the Alter Rebbe. He came out strongly against the invasion of Napoleon, despite the negative freedoms that it would bring, as it will be at the expense of positive liberties - Jewish identity and self cultural expression.

This story is told in the memoir of the Berlin family written in 1946-9 by Mendel Berlin for the benefit of my son. He writes about Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi at some length (pp. 265-267) highlighting the position he took against Napoleon and for the side of the Tsar. He writes:

“I can trace the line of my paternal ancestors to the latter part of the eighteenth century. It begins with a certain R. Baruch who settled in the little townlet of Liosno in the Government of Mohilev c. 1750. His origin I don’t know; he is believed to have come from the Maharsha”l, Rabbi Shlomo Lurie, a very famous rabbi and Talmudist of the sixteenth century. His son was the famous R. Schneur Zalman of Liadi (commonly known as the ‘Alter Rebbi’), the founder of the Chabad system of Chassiduth. The family name Schneerson later has been derived from the name Schneur. He certainly was a most extraordinary and great man. His knowledge of the Jewish literature and Kabbalah was vast; at a very early age he was a recognized talmudical authority, and in is search for further knowledge he wandered to the Maggid of Meseritz, the pupil of R. Israel Baal-Shem, and during his years of study there developed his system – a system which drew hundreds of thousands of pupils and admirers, and which split the Russian, Lithuanian and Ukrainian Jewry into two sects, the Misnagdim and the Chassidim, with a lasting influence on their character and make-up. He became a legendary figure to Eastern and particularly Russian Jewry. Because of his schism and split among Jewry he was denounced by his adversaries to the Russian Government and the infamous III Division took up the case against him. He instituted the collection of money for the benefit of scholars and pious Jews in Palestine (the so called Rabbi Meir Baal Ness collection) and one of his enemies’ accusations was that he was collecting of money for Turkey against Russia. The Russian administration put him in prison in the notorious Petro-Paul Fortress in St Petersburg and he was only freed when after the assassination of Tsar Paul a more liberal spirit began in Russia with the assent of Alexander I.

Notwithstanding the humiliations he suffered under the tsarist Government he supported the Tsar effectively during the 1812 Napoleonic War. His contention was that while material and civic freedom will be the lot of the Jews under Napoleon, yet religion and spirituality will suffer under the liberating regime, and therefore the Tsar had to be supported. The intelligence system in the Russian Army was very poor, and the Rav mobilized his hundreds of thousands of followers (Chasidim) who lived all along the line of the advance of Napoleon’s armies into scouts and spies, and news of the armies’ movements, its provisioning and so on traveled quickly ahead of the armies and were regularly supplied to the Russian army. Because of this he had to flee when the French army came near his residence in Liadi (between Vitebsk and Smolensk) and he was helped in his flight by the Russian Commander. During this flight in the Russian winter he died and was buried in Gadiaz. There is on record a letter by his son to one of his friends telling him how sure the Rav was of Russian victory, a letter written from Viasma before the French entered Moscow, and how serene he was in all his plight and misery, in full conviction of ultimate victory. This is then our great ancestor.”

It would appear from this story interpreted by Mendel Berlin, as Sir Colin Lucas points out, as mentioned above, the concept of positive liberty, according to Rabbi Schneur Zalman, should be considered greater morally than negative liberties. This however needs to be qualified with the notion, as we explained, that the culture that the person is preserving is one’s own culture, thus one can argue that positive liberty, as long as it’s not coerced, has greater value than negative liberty.

Two concepts of positive liberty in Jewish philosophy

Since Sir Isaiah wrote his essay on two concepts of liberty, there has been much discussion regarding other aspects of liberty that go beyond simply negative or positive. I would like to propose that beyond negative and positive liberty in Jewish philosophy, there are two additional levels of negative and positive liberty within the concept of positive liberty itself.

These two concepts can be found in the principle work of the above mentioned great ancestor of Sir Isaiah Berlin, the founder of Chabad philosophy, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, the Alter Rebbe, in his work the Tanya, published 1797.

This would provide an additional convergence between the thought of Sir Isaiah and his ancestral family, in the writings of his great grandfather Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, where the ideas of positive liberty are taken to a further level.

One of the main concepts in the work of the Tanya is the idea, drawing on the Talmud and Kabbalah, that there are three levels of moral freedom: the Tzadik (righteous), the Benoni (intermediate) and the Rasha (wicked).

He defines the wicked as one who is completely dominated by their impulses. The intermediate is one who has negative impulses but does not permit them to take control. The righteous is one who is a master over his or her impulses.

Accordingly, one can propose three additional levels of positive liberty. A person who is controlled by their impulses – wicked – may have political self ownership – positive liberty - but does not have moral self ownership and ought not to be considered free at all.

The Benoni is someone who is also influenced by negative impulses but chooses not to follow them. One can say such a person has negative positive liberty. The highest ideal of liberty is the person who has true positive liberty, whereby the person has conquered his or her impulses and has total moral self ownership.

The Tanya however asserts that while the concept of the righteous who has complete self ownership is the ideal state of being it is rarely attainable and one should strive towards the Benoni level, where the person has negative impulses but does not allow them to dictate his or her behavior - negative moral liberty. Were this to be achieved by most of humanity the world would indeed be a much more peaceful place.

We have thus demonstrated the convergence between an aspect of the philosophy of the Rebbe on liberty with Sir Isaiah Berlin and his major essay on liberty and argued that the Alter Rebbe sought to take the argument to liberty to a much further level, whereby the person aims to have true self ownership.

In the realm of ideas it would appear that there is much more in common between the philosophers and the rabbis, albeit from different walks of life than was is perceived.

This intellectual bridge between Sir Isaiah and the Rebbe is also suggested in The Book of Isaiah (p. 2) in an essay by Evan Zimroth, entitled In search of Isaiah Berlin, where he writes: “…the most famous descendent of Rabbi Zalman of Liadi is the seventh Lubavitcher Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneerson. He and Isaiah were distant cousins and perhaps had more in common than Isaiah thought: Schneerson, far from being intellectually narrow, studied mathematics at the Sorbonne and worked in Paris as an electrical engineer. He was greatly revered not only for his towering Talmudic learning but also for his practical wisdom. As a Lubavitcher Rebbe, he did not, of course, assimilate to the common culture, but then neither did Oxford dons”.

A Jewish response to modern atheism

Thu, 27 Oct 2011 4:45:00 PM

A Jewish response to modern atheism

Atheism is, in a broad sense, the rejection of belief in the existence of deities. The term atheism originated from the Greek (atheos), meaning "without G-d", which was applied with a negative connotation to those thought to reject the gods worshipped by the larger society. With the spread of freethought, skeptical inquiry, and subsequent increase in criticism of religion, application of the term narrowed in scope. The first individuals to identify themselves as "atheist" appeared in the 18th century.

Atheists tend to be skeptical of supernatural claims, citing a lack of empirical evidence. Atheists have offered various rationales for not believing in any deity. These include the problem of evil, the argument from inconsistent revelations, and the argument from nonbelief. Other arguments for atheism range from the philosophical to the social to the historical. Although some atheists have adopted secular philosophies, there is no one ideology or set of behaviors to which all atheists adhere.

A new modern atheism however is an argument that does not seem to have been emphasized before. It is not the argument against the philosophy that a G-d exists but a specific argument that makes it untenable and illogical to believe in G-d the way it is taught.

The argument is that the principle book that teaches about the existence of G-d, the Bible, cannot be accepted on ethical grounds. In particular it is an argument against the belief in the G-d of the Hebrew Bible.

Arguments against the G-d of the Hebrew Bible are not something new in itself. It goes back to the dark ages of Christian anti-Semitism that aimed to argue that G-d of the Hebrew Bible should be rejected in favour of the compassionate G-d of the New Testament. This argument is found in the work of for example C.S. Lewis ‘Reflections on the Psalms (1958)’ where he makes the distinction between G-d of the Hebrew Bible, who is vengeful against evildoers and presenting a weak approach to judgment, in contrast to Christianity that presents a compassionate G-d and a reason for man to dread judgment.

There are many other arguments over the centuries that have been presented to reject the Old for the New accompanied by threats against Jews to abandon their faith.

However, a new challenge against the Hebrew Bible comes primarily not from Christians, who actually try to defend it, but from modern atheists, like Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens and others.

The argument broadly is based on the presentation of G-d in the Hebrew Bible as being unethical and not a moral guide to be followed. Furthermore, they argue that G-d actually perpetrates evil.

The new application of this argument is not to therefore believe in a G-d in a different form but a support for atheism, arguing that G-d therefore does not exist, is a fallacy and should not be believed in or taught to children.

As long as the argument was with the intention to convert Jews or humanity to a different form of belief in G-d, it did not present as something that provokes necessarily a need to respond to, as most Jews would likely not be deterred or influenced by these arguments and there is no problem for humanity to believe in a G-d that does not conform exactly to the G-d of the Hebrew Bible. It is not outright heresy if one does not believe in every minute aspect of the belief in G-d as presented in the Hebrew Bible, while still believing in monotheism.

However, the current argument that one should reject belief in G-d altogether because of notions of G-d in the Hebrew Bible should bother every thinking person, Jewish or otherwise, who identifies with the Hebrew Bible. They should be troubled by this argument and search for a response.

The argument goes like this. In the Hebrew Bible G-d seems to punish indiscriminately including those who are innocent. How could such a G-d exist or be defended?

This argument in particular is mainly focused on one specific story in Deuteronomy (20:13-17) relating to the commandment for the ancient Israelites to kill the Canaanites, men women and children.

It states: ‘However, of these peoples' cities, which the Lord, your G-d, gives you as an inheritance, you shall not allow any soul to live. Rather, you shall utterly destroy them: The Hittites, and the Amorites, the Canaanites, and the Perizzites, the Hivvites, and the Jebusites, as the Lord, your G-d, has commanded you.’

To be sure, G-d does not always command to kill the entire population. Just a few verses earlier the Israelites are told when they enter into battle to only kill the men in battle and only after peace has been rejected. Regarding the woman and children they should be saved and taken captive.

It says: ‘But if it (the people) does not make peace with you, and it wages war against you, you shall besiege it, and the Lord, your G-d, will deliver it into your hands, and you shall strike all its males with the edge of the sword. However, the women, the children, and the livestock, and all that is in the city, all its spoils you shall take for yourself, and you shall eat the spoils of your enemies, which the Lord, your G-d, has given you.’

It is only relating to the seven Canaanite nations that G-d commanded the Israelites to kill every soul. Nevertheless the argument persists, why would G-d command what should be perceived as genocide?

The logic for this commandment is in the context of this Biblical narrative itself (18). It reasons that this need for this is so that the Israelites should not learn from their evil ways:

‘So that they should not teach you to act according to all their abominations that they have done for their gods, whereby you would sin against the Lord, your G-d.’

To be clear, the usual law of war according to the Bible is to first sue for peace and only if rejected resort to battle. Furthermore, when battle is conducted, escape routes should be left open for retreat and if people should be killed in battle these should only be the male combatants and not women and children.

The Canaanite story where men, women and children were commanded by G-d to be killed is an exception to the rule and is in no way meant to be an instruction other than in its own context of the seven Canaanite nations.

The moral answer

The reason for this exception was due to the extreme barbaric and immoral ways of the Canaanite people in the eyes of G-d in the methods of the worship of their deities. The concern was that these ways would have been taught and been an influence on the ancient Israelites when they reside in the land.

The ways of the Canaanites are recounted in the Hebrew Bible itself. In Deuteronomy (18:10) it states: There shall not be found among you anyone who passes his son or daughter through fire, a soothsayer, a diviner of auspicious times, one who interprets omens, or a sorcerer, or a charmer, a pithom sorcerer, a yido'a sorcerer, or a necromancer.

In addition, in the commentaries, it also relates about the practice of children passing parents through fire for the Molech worship, whereby fathers would be killed by one’s children for the purpose of serving a particular god. These are referred to as abominations and serves as the reason in the Biblical text for the killing of the population.

Apologetics

American analytic philosopher of religion, Dr. William Lane Craig, who this week lectured at the Sheldonian theatre in Oxford, wavers between the argument above and a more apologetic argument.

Initially he writes (quoted):

"The terrible totality of the destruction was undoubtedly related to the prohibition of assimilation to pagan nations on Israel's part. In commanding complete destruction of the Canaanites, the Lord says, 'You shall not intermarry with them, giving your daughters to their sons, or taking their daughters for your sons, for they would turn away your sons from following me, to serve other gods' (Deut 7.3-4). […] God knew that if these Canaanite children were allowed to live, they would spell the undoing of Israel. […] Moreover, if we believe, as I do, that God's grace is extended to those who die in infancy or as small children, the death of these children was actually their salvation. We are so wedded to an earthly, naturalistic perspective that we forget that those who die are happy to quit this earth for heaven's incomparable joy. Therefore, God does these children no wrong in taking their lives."

This answer makes the same point as above though without his apparent knowledge of the degree of the barbaric practices of the Canaanite society.

However, in another text he seems to present a more apologetic argument:

“I think the most difficult part of this whole debate is the apparent wrong done to the Israelite soldiers themselves. Can you imagine what it would be like to have to break into some house and kill a terrified woman and her children? The brutalising effect on these Israelite soldiers is disturbing."

This answer seems to suggest that G-d commanded something that was not ethical and the Israelite soldiers should possibly have refused this commandment.

In a lecture that was delivered at Oxford by Prof. Steven Prawer, founder of the department of nanotechnology at Melbourne University, he argued in an attempt to reconcile the Bible and ethics that the Bible is not an absolute code of ethics but meant to be a work in progress during the early history of the Hebrew in the desert. The Israelites were being presented with scenarios by G-d where they had the choice between challenging G-d and refusing orders out of a sense of morality or following them and seemingly acting immorally. In this context, G-d is not acting as the source of morality but the teacher that requests of human beings to choose and act morally though they don’t always choose correctly.

This argument is supported by the challenging of G-d by Abraham in the Book of Genesis when he wanted to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah. In Genesis (18:23), regarding Abraham, upon hearing that G-d was going to destroy the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, it says: ‘Abraham came forward and said, “Will You stamp out the righteous along with the wicked?”'

Similarly, we find that Moses challenged G-d with questions of morality. In Exodus (3:10), G-d sent Moses to Pharaoh to tell him to let the Children of Israel out of Egypt, and due to this mission the Hebrew were enslaved with even harder labour, at which point Moses confronts G-d (Exodus 5:22) with the criticism, “Why have you done evil to this people, why have you sent me?”

In both these cases, however, one cannot say that they present the argument that G-d acted immorally and Moses needed to confront Him to persuade Him to act morally. In both the above cases, G-d responded to the challenges and explained His actions.

In the case of Abraham the argument was that there were no righteous people in the city for it to be saved. The reason for the destruction of these cities was then not due to G-d acting immorally, but on the contrary, the city of Sodom and Gomorrah were deemed evil.

The Talmud in Sanhedrin details out the social injustice of Sodom and Gomorrah. It relates how wayfarers were not allowed to be given food and charity was forbidden. One story mentioned in the Talmud is about a young girl who had compassion on a hungry wayfarer and gave the person food, including honey. Her punishment was that she was placed on a rooftop while she was covered with honey and left there for bees to devour her until she died a slow painful death.

Similarly, when Moses challenged G-d regarding the harsh slavery of the Israelites due to being sent to have them released, His response was that the harsher conditions are temporary before Pharaoh would actually be forced to let them free, as it states (Exodus 6:1): ‘Now you will see what I shall do to Pharaoh, for through a strong hand he will send them out, and with a strong hand will he drive them from his land.’

One can hardly say this presents indifference to suffering and it was Moses who was needed to remind G-d to act morally.

According to Rabbeinu Chananel (990-1057), even the question of Moses to G-d was not opposing G-d for causing the harm to the innocent Israelites, as it was the Pharaoh’s choice to enslave the Hebrews and to increase the slavery when they requested their freedom. The question of Moses was rather ‘Why have You permitted the evil to be done to this people?’. This is the eternal dilemma why do the righteous suffer and the response was that in this case the wicked will be punished and the Israelites will be let free.

There are however cases that might present a support for the argument that there are times when G-d desires to deal punishment and man had to confront G-d to change His mind. In Numbers (14) the people rebelled against G-d after the spies returned with negative report of the feasibility to conquer Canaan and G-d says ‘How long will this people provoke me and not have faith in me? I will smite them and annihilate them’. Moses then proceeds to argue for their forgiveness and G-d responded ‘I have forgiven because of your words’.

Similarly, after the sin of the Golden Calf (Exodus 32:10), G-d says to Moses: ‘I have seen this people, and behold it is a stiff necked people and now desists from me, let my anger flare up against them and I shall annihilate them, and I shall make you into a great nation.’

Moses responds (ibid 11-14) and pleads before G-d: ‘Relent from Your flaring anger and reconsider regarding the evil against Your people…G-d reconsidered regarding the evil that He said He would do to His people’.

These two cases seem to support the notion that G-d may desire to act immorally and it is the role of man to sometimes confront G-d and ask G-d for moral justice.

This argument would indeed portray G-d of the Hebrew Bible as morally devious. The problem with this argument however is the suggestion that G-d of the Hebrew Bible is not just immoral but also inconsistent. In some cases He is presented as profoundly moral with the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah and the punishment of Pharaoh, desiring to let the Hebrews out of slavery into freedom and at other times He appears to be seeking genocide of an innocent people until man comes to the rescue.

The premise then seems to be that G-d of the Hebrew Bible is meant to be a moral and good G-d who commands man about the need for social justice and is expected to act also with social justice and compassion Himself, while punishing the wicked for injustice when due.

This is evident in the majority of the stories of the Bible and the majority of the commandments about helping, feeding and clothing the poor and needy and love of one’s neighbour. The greatest injustice in the Bible is perversion of justice and favouring the rich over the poor.

The reason for the seemingly harsh treatment towards the Israelites in the desert was due to a social contract and covenant which they entered into at Sinai. They accepted a system of law, social and spiritual, which they were held bound to, beyond the universal laws of society. On Mount Sinai they were given the law which included idolatry and the Bible is replete with references of the need to serve G-d and not follow the barbaric and idolatrous practices of the pagan world.

The sin of the Golden Calf and the harsh punishment that it precipitated, were it not for Moses begging for forgiveness, falls into this context. Similarly, the rebellion against G-d in the story of the spies when they desired to return to Egypt was also seen as a lack of faith in G-d and a breach of the covenant which they had entered.

It does not however in any way seem to support the hypothesis that G-d of the Hebrew Bible is a being of questionable ethics and the morality of the Bible is merely an effort in progress.

This then leaves us with the question regarding the Canaanites. In the context of the ancient pagan world, it appears that the Canaanites were particularly immoral and barbaric, as mentioned earlier, which involved practices by men, women and children, similar to Sodom and Gomorrah, which G-d commanded to be destroyed.

The extension of this punishment to children is difficult to comprehend for a modern society but the overwhelming premise in the Hebrew Bible is that it is due to a moral rather than immoral G-d, who instructed this commandment. Had the Canaanites not been so barbaric in their pagan worship, infecting their entire society, they would not have been killed and the Israelites would have been able to live in peace amongst them.

Bible: as what?

The deeper question regarding this discussion is how we view the Hebrew Bible. Over the last number of years there has been an enormous number of books on the Bible serving as a guide for different areas of life and perspectives.

It is possible to find books on the Bible as literature, Bible as archaeology, Bible as poetry, Bible as history, Bible as philosophy, Bible as a code for political science and Bible as a guide for wisdom in business.

In a most intriguing book by the Chief Rabbi Sir Jonathan Sacks, The Home that we Build Together, he argues that the Hebrew Bible may be used as a text book for how to build a successful multi cultural society in the 21st century in the United Kingdom. He presents the building of the Tabernacle in the desert in the Book of Exodus by the Hebrews as a model for collective responsibility and the nurturing of a unified identity despite a diverse multi cultural population.

Similarly, a book on Jewish Wisdom for Business Success: Lessons from the Torah and Other Ancient Texts by Rabbi Levi Brackman and co-author Mr. Sam Jaffe argues that the ancient texts of the Torah may serve as a source for wisdom and insight how to be successful in business. The tenacity and courage of the ancient Hebrews in facing their fear and jumping into the sea before it split when being pursued by the Egyptians upon leaving Egypt should serve as way to overcome one of the principle problems in being successful in business – the conquering of fear.

While the wisdom of the Torah may have what to say to the contemporary world of politics and business, this is not primarily what the Torah is and can lead to misinterpretation.

The Torah is primarily a spiritual work meant to bring a person closer to G-d and enable the living of an ethical and moral life between a person and their family and neighbour.

This is indicated in the work of Mishneh Torah by Maimonides (1138-1204) laws of Chanukah (Ch. 3), where he states that the purpose of the Hebrew Bible is to bring peace to the world.

To be clear this does not mean it is a work on conflict resolution on a geopolitical level but primarily peace between neighbours and family harmony. Maimonides is referring to a particular Jewish legal issue where one can only afford either a Sabbath candle or Chanukah candle. Which one takes precedence? He rules that the Sabbath candle is more important because the custom of lighting a Sabbath candle is to ensure peace at home, when electricity was not invented to illuminate one’s house at night and on the Sabbath when kindling a light is Biblically prohibited there would be frustration and possible domestic strife due to the dark.

The institution was issued by the Sages to light a candle before the onset of the Sabbath so that would not eat in the dark on the Sabbath and there would be peace in the home.

In this context Maimonides writes that this candle is more important that the Chanukah candle as the whole Torah is for this very purpose - to bring peace between one person and another.

The stories of the Torah need to be seen in similar light. It is not a book of history or politics - one should view the Torah as a relevant text for one’s personal spiritual and moral self development.

Torah is a spiritual work

Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, known as Nachmanides (1194-1270), writes in his introduction to his commentary to Genesis that the ‘Torah is talking principally in the higher spheres and indicates to the lower world’.

This means that the building of the Tabernacle for example indeed happened in the early history of the Israelites while wandering in the desert but it is not the history or the political aspect of this that is important but rather how it is understood on the personal and spiritual level - how the individual can come closer to G-d and become a more spiritual and moral human being.

The majority of Jewish philosophy from medieval times until contemporary Jewish works deals with this question, including the vast amount of literature on Jewish mysticism and Hasidism from the 18th century until today.

The subject of the conquest and killing of the Canaanites in Deuteronomy should also be seen in the same light. The reason for it being in the Torah is not for any historical or political purpose that may be extrapolated to today’s times. The relevance is purely spiritual.

In a work on Jewish mysticism Sefer Hamamarim melukat vol. 2 (p. 312), Rabbi Menachem M. Schneersohn, known as the Rebbe, poses the question, what is the relevance today of the commandment to obliterate the seven Canaanite nations?

The question is based on the premise that there must be a relevance to every aspect of the Torah for humanity today for otherwise it might as well be shelved as an ancient text of merely historic value.

This is also evident by the fact that Maimonides lists this as a positive commandment when there is no relevant application, as these nations no longer even exist nor are they identifiable. The Rebbe takes this idea even further that the story of the Biblical spies in the desert before conquering the land by Joshua must also have a spiritual relevance.

He proceeds to explain that in this case the Torah is talking in metaphors and morals, which are not necessarily relevant in practice. The spying of the land is a metaphor for the need for one to analyse oneself and be ethically self critical. The land of the seven Canaanite nations is a metaphor for the emotions of the heart, which have seven components according to Jewish mysticism, including kindness, severity, compassion, etc.

The conquest of the land of seven nations and killing of the people is then a metaphor for the conquering of the negative emotions of the heart completely and transforming them to goodness. It is in spiritual terms the level of a Tzaddik, a righteous person, who has rooted out all negativity within the self.

This is seen as more profound than the person who is only in control of their actions, speech and even thought. The ability to control one’s desires is a great virtue and the level of the righteous in Jewish thought.

This idea is also reflected in Psalms where King David writes (Psalms 109:22), ‘My heart is hollow within me’. According to Jewish thought (Tanya Ch. 1), he has acquired control of not just of his behaviour but also his emotions and desires.

According to this approach the Torah is not a book of politics or history but of moral teachings for one’s own personal life. It is this misunderstanding of sacred works that allows for the confusion of politics and religion and it is the same misconceptions that seem to be providing fodder for modern atheism.

A Jewish approach to Vegetarianism

Thu, 27 Oct 2011 4:19:00 PM

A Jewish approach to Vegetarianism

In this essay we will argue that Judaism shows support for vegetarianism but for a different reason than what is commonly thought. It is possible to divide Jewish morals into three categories: that which is immoral and should be prohibited, that which is amoral and permitted and that which is favourable and desirable.

The category which is immoral one should obviously abstain from. The category which is positively moral is permitted and desirable. The category that is neither moral nor immoral (amoral) however seems to be open to debate in Jewish thought.

We will aim to present the case that in Jewish thought eating meat is amoral and therefore one may abstain, for the purposes of self development and refinement of character, as long it does not lead to extreme behaviour.

We are not saying here that eating meat is immoral, causing unnecessary destruction of a life, which is placed on a par with human life. It appears to be this view that has made vegetarianism one of the fastest growing movements in the world. Judaism however would not concur with this view – there is, in the Jewish view, a profound distinction between human life and animal life.

For this reason, Judaism does not view eating meat as repugnant and immoral and indeed there are numerous sources implying that eating meat is permitted.

Biblical ambivalence towards eating meat

Judaism nevertheless appears ambivalent towards eating meat. According to the Torah, Adam was largely vegetarian, as he was not permitted to eat meat from an animal, fish or fowl that had been killed. He was only permitted to eat herbage.

This prohibition for Adam to eat meat is in Genesis (1:27-30): ‘And G-d created man in His image.And G-d blessed them, and G-d said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and rule over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the sky and over all the beasts that tread upon the earth. And G-d said, "Behold, I have given you every seed bearing herb, which is upon the surface of the entire earth, and every tree that has seed bearing fruit; it will be yours for food. And to all the beasts of the earth and to all the fowl of the heavens, and to everything that moves upon the earth, in which there is a living spirit, every green herb to eat," and it was so.’

Thus, only herbage was permitted to Adam.

However further in Genesis (9:1-6) it states that meat became permitted to Noah: ‘And G-d blessed Noah and his sons, and He said to them: "Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth. And your fear and your dread shall be upon all the beasts of the earth and upon all the fowl of the heaven; upon everything that creeps upon the ground and upon all the fish of the sea, for they have been given into your hands. Every moving thing that lives shall be yours to eat; like the green vegetation, I have given you everything. But, flesh with its soul, its blood, you shall not eat.’

Talmud

In the 5th century work of the Babylonian Talmud, the principle work of the Oral Torah, it debates whether Adam was indeed prohibited from eating meat. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 59b) states:

“Rav Yehuda said in the name of Rav: To Adam, the first man, meat was not permitted for eating. For it is written: Behold I have given to you the vegetation…it shall be yours for food, and for every beast of the earth. This implies: But the beast of the earth is not given to you as food.

And when the sons of Noah came along, G-d permitted meat to them, as it is stated in G-d’s injunction to Noah and his sons upon their exit from the ark: Every moving thing that lives shall be food for you; like grassland vegetation I have given you all things – including animals.

Challenges

The Talmud then proceeds to deal with four possible challenges to Adam not being permitted to eat meat. They challenged this from the following verse: And rule over the fish of the sea. Does this not mean that the fish were given to Adam for eating? No. They were given for work. But are fish capable of work? Yes, as can be seen from the inquiry of Rachavah. For Rachavah inquired: If someone leads his wagon with a goat and a Shibuta fish, what is the law? It is apparent from this inquiry that fish can be used for work.

The second challenge: Come, learn a proof to the contrary. It states, ‘And rule over the birds of the heavens’. Does this not mean that the birds were given to Adam for eating? No. They were given to Adam for work. But are birds capable of working? Yes. As Rabbah bar Rav Huna inquired: If one threshed with geese and chickens, what is the law regarding eating while working? It is apparent that fowl can be used for work.

A third objection: And rule over every living thing that creeps upon the earth. Since creeping creatures are certainly not fit for work, Adam must have been granted the right to eat them? The Talmud answers: That phrase comes to include a serpent as a creature given to Adam to use for work.

For it was taught in a Baraisa: R’ Shimon Ben Menasya says: Woe that a great servant was lost from the world. For had the serpent not been cursed, each and every one of Israel would have been presented with two good serpents: One he would send to the North and one he would send to the South, both difficult for man to travel to, to bring him Sandalbon gems, precious stones, and pearls.

Thus, the verse which grants Adam dominion over crawling creatures refers to the serpent, which could have been used by Adam for work.

A fourth challenge: ‘R’ Yehuda ben Teima used to say: Adam, the first man, would recline in the Garden of Eden, and the administering Angels would roast meat for him and strain wine for him. He did not have to trouble to prepare his own food. The serpent glanced at him, saw his honour and became jealous of him. He then toppled him from his elevated position by causing him to sin.’ It is thus apparent that Adam was permitted to eat the meat that the angels roasted for him.

Talmud answers: There it refers to meat that descended from Heaven, not meat from animals. But is there such a thing as meat that descends from Heaven? Yes! As in the incident with R’ Shimon ben Chalafta, who was traveling along the road when suddenly a group of lions encountered him and roared in his face. He quoted the following verse: The young lions roar after their prey (Psalms 104:21). Two slabs of meat fell from Heaven for him. The lions ate one of them and departed, and the other one they left.

R’ Shimon ben Chalafta took it with him and came to the study hall. He inquired: Is this meat non-kosher or kosher? They answered him: Something non-kosher does not descend from Heaven. Thus, we may say that this was the type of meat prepared by the angels for Adam.”

From the above Talmudic discussion, we conclude that beasts were not permitted to Adam to eat. Furthermore, from the subsequent questions of the Talmud, the prohibition to Adam included also fish and fowl.

Adam may have eaten certain meat

There is however a qualification to this prohibition for Adam eating meat. Medieval commentary to the Talmud, Tosafist (Sanhedrin 56b), explains that from the additional prohibition to Adam regarding eating a limb of a living animal, it appears that the prohibition to eat meat is only not to kill the animal but if it died on its own, Adam was permitted to eat the meat. A limb of a living animal however would always be prohibited, whether torn off by the person or by injury.

11th century Talmudic and Biblical commentator, Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, known as Rashi (Sanhedrin 57a), appears to agree with this distinction.

Noahites permitted to eat meat

Despite the conclusion of the Talmud that Adam was prohibited from eating meat of an animal that had been killed, the Torah permits Noah and subsequent generations to eat meat, whether of a beast, fish or fowl and in any manner that it may have died (though after Sinai the animal has to be a kosher animal and needs to be slaughtered according to Jewish law).

Hunting game for Isaac

In the subsequent Biblical story Isaac and Esau we see that Jewish law permits taking an animal’s life for food.

Genesis (27:1) relates: ‘It came to pass when Isaac was old, and his eyes were too dim to see, that he called Esau his elder son, and he said to him, "My son," and he said to him, "Here I am." And he said, "Behold now, I have grown old; I do not know the day of my death. So, now, sharpen your implements, your sword and take your bow, and go forth to the field, and hunt game for me. And make for me tasty foods as I like, and bring them to me, and I will eat, in order that my soul will bless you before I die." But Rebecca overheard when Isaac spoke to Esau his son, and Esau went to the field to hunt game, to bring it. And Rebecca said to Jacob her son, saying, "Behold I have heard your father speaking to Esau your brother, saying, 'Bring me game and make me tasty foods, and I will eat, and I will bless you before the Lord before my death.' And now my son, hearken to my voice, to what I am commanding you. Go now to the flock, and take for me from there two choice kids, and I will make them tasty foods for your father, as he likes. And you shall bring them to your father that he may eat, in order that he bless you before his death."

Permitted but not necessary

The view of Judaism towards eating meat can however be further analysed. In the Book of Numbers (11:1) the Israelites requested meat but with negative consequences.

It relates: ‘The people were looking to complain, and it was evil in the ears of the Lord. But the multitude among them began to have strong cravings. Then even the children of Israel once again began to cry, and they said, "Who will feed us meat? We remember the fish that we ate in Egypt free of charge, the cucumbers, the watermelons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. But now, our bodies are dried out, for there is nothing at all; we have nothing but manna to look at."

Then the Lord said to Moses, "And to the people, you shall say, 'Prepare yourselves for tomorrow and you shall eat meat, because you have cried in the ears of the Lord saying, "Who will feed us meat, for we had it better in Egypt." [Therefore,] the Lord will give you meat, and you shall eat. You shall eat it not one day, not two days, not five days, not ten days, and not twenty days, but even for a full month until it comes out of your nose and nauseates you. Because you have despised the Lord who is among you, and you cried before Him, saying, "Why did we ever leave Egypt?"

A wind went forth from the Lord and swept quails from the sea and spread them over the camp about one day's journey this way and one day's journey that way, around the camp, about two cubits above the ground. The people rose up all that day and all night and the next day and gathered the quails. Even the one who gathered the least collected ten heaps. They spread them around the camp in piles. The meat was still between their teeth; it was not yet finished, and the anger of the Lord flared against the people, and the Lord struck the people with a very mighty blow. He named that place Kivroth Hata'avah [Graves of Craving], for there they buried the people who craved.’

The above story however may not provide a support for the argument against eating meat, as the problem seems to be principally the manner of the request and the fact that it was accompanied with the rebellious appeal to return to Egypt.

Meat on the festival or the Shabbat: A rabbinic dispute

One of the arguments supporting the eating of meat is the custom to eat meat on the Shabbat and Jewish festivals. However, this custom is not at all clear-cut.

It is based on the Talmud and a debate between Maimonides (1135-1204) and later works of Jewish law in 16th by Rabbi Joseph Karo and in the 18th century by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi.

Maimonides in the Mishneh Torah, laws of the festivals, writes (6:17-18): ‘On the days of the festivals, a person is obligated to be happy and in good spirits; he, his children, his wife, the members of his household, and all those who depend on him, as Deuteronomy (16:14) states: "And you shall rejoice in your festivals."

The "rejoicing" mentioned in the verse refers to sacrificing peace offerings, as will be explained in Laws of Chaggigah. Nevertheless, included in this charge to rejoice is that he, his children, and the members of his household should rejoice, each one in a manner appropriate for him. What is implied? Children should be given roasted seeds, nuts, and sweets. For women, one should buy attractive clothes and jewellery according to one's financial capacity. Men should eat meat and drink wine, for there is no happiness without partaking of meat, nor is there happiness without partaking of wine.’

This view of Maimonides appears to be supported also in his laws of Deot (5:10) where he writes: ‘The Sages have directed regarding the ways of the world: A person should eat meat only with appetite as Deuteronomy (12:20) states: "If your soul should crave to eat meat..." It is sufficient for the healthy to eat meat once weekly, from Sabbath eve to Sabbath eve. If he is wealthy enough to eat meat every day, he may.’

The commentaries on Maimonides, however, question his statement regarding the need to eat meat on the festival in order to rejoice. Rabbi Joseph Karo (1488 -1575) in his commentary to the work of Jewish Law, Arba'ah Turim, known as Tur (Orach Chayim, laws of Yom Tov, Ch. 529), argues with Maimonides regarding this point as follows:

Maimonides’ source Talmud tractate Pesachim (109a) states that during the time of the Temple "there is no happiness without partaking of meat". This however refers to sacrificial meat, as Deuteronomy (27:7) states, "And you shall sacrifice peace offerings... and you shall rejoice". After the destruction of the Temple "there is no happiness without partaking of wine" but no mention is made of the importance of eating non-sacrificial meat on the holidays. The Talmud does not suggest, according to Rabbi Joseph Karo, that there is joy in the eating of meat itself.

He concludes, in opposition to Maimonides, that wine without meat is sufficient on the holidays.

Reconciling Maimonides and Rabbi Joseph Karo

In the Jewish legal work Shulchan Aruch HaRav (529:7), Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812) seems to concur with Rabbi Joseph Karo, while taking into consideration the view of Maimonides. He writes that at present there is a greater obligation to drink wine than to eat meat. Nevertheless, he concedes, since most people derive pleasure from eating meat, it is proper to partake of meat on the holidays.

This view is similarly mentioned in Shulchan Aruch HaRav laws of Shabbat (242:2), where it states, ‘How shall you delight on the Shabbat? The sages would eat large fish and dishes of beets which were important dishes then; each place according to what was an important dish in their times.

He then: ‘There is no obligation to eat meat or drink wine on Shabbat, rather it is merely that most people have pleasure in eating meat more than other foods. Therefore one should buy meat and wine according to one’s means.’

It appears then that according to Rabbi Joseph Karo one certainly need not eat meat on the Shabbat or the festival, and according to Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi one needs only to do so if this provides a specific joy and even then there is no obligation.

Eating meat is amoral and one may abstain

According to Rabbi Joseph Karo and supported to a certain degree by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi there is no intrinsic spiritual benefit to eating meat even on the Shabbat and festival. One can conclude then that eating meat is in itself neither moral nor immoral – it is amoral and merely permitted if one so chooses.

_________________

Key texts:

1. Genesis (1:27-30)

2. Genesis (9:1-6)

3. Talmud Sanhedrin 59b

4. Tosfot (Sanhedrin 56b)

5. Rashi (Sanhedrin 57a)

6. Genesis (27:1)

7. Numbers (11:1)

8. Maimonides Mishneh Torah, laws of the festivals (6:17-18)

9. Rabbi Joseph Karo in his commentary to Arba'ah Turim (Orach Chayim, laws of Yom Tov, Ch. 529)

10. Shulchan Aruch HaRav laws of Yom Tov (529:7)

11. Shulchan Aruch HaRav laws of Shabbat (242:2)

12. Maimonides laws of Deot (5:10)

Why is Judaism in decline?

Mon, 10 Oct 2011 5:01:00 AM

Jews are known to be thinkers, revolutionaries and ground breaking researchers, including Noble Prize winners. They have helped change and shape the world we live in. This started with Abraham and Jews have tried to follow his path ever since. Abraham travelled to Canaan from Ur Kasdim to change the world. The world was practising pagan idolatry. They worshipped the sun and the moon. Abraham smashed the idols and taught them and the world monotheism.

His descendents continued to follow this path despite the overwhelming pagan world around them for millennia. Moses taught the first Magna Carta in the form of the seven Noahide laws how to live an ethical life and then the Ten Commandments, including believing in One G-d, as well as ethical teachings, which became the foundation of Judaism and the Judeo Christian tradition.

In addition to ancient times, we have given rise in more recent times to Albert Einstein, Sigmund Freud and many others who fundamentally changed the world in their respective fields.

The core of this ambition is not to be satisfied to see the world the way it is but the need to develop the world and see progress in our existence. The human being should never be static and stagnant. There is a sense that we must continuously and measurably strive for progress and advance civilisation. We must certainly not be in decline.

One can argue that it is this tradition that leads Jews to excel in the world. A reason why there are so many Jewish Noble prize laureates is not so much to do with Jewish genius but a stubborn resilience to not allow the world to remain as it is with miniscule steps in progression or decline but the need to continuously challenge the status quo and strive to fundamentally change the world for the better.

A professor of Russian history at Oxford once asked why so many Jews were involved in the Revolution that destroyed the Tsarist autocracy and led to the creation of the Soviet Union in 1917 and other revolutions. He argued that it is due to an innate appreciation Jews have of the Abrahamic model to challenge the status quo and always search for ways to fundamentally change the world for the better.

Progress and development is also intrinsic to our human nature and existence. A child is born and develops and matures. He or she then goes to college and the person continues to be never satisfied. They need to graduate and then proceed to find a job, buy a house and raise a family. In academia, one will look to do a Masters, then a PhD, then a post-Doc and hopefully find a position. One will then always have the need to progress further through new research, writing papers and promotion. Man is never satisfied with who one is and what one is doing in the present. There is always the need to advance, as the Talmud states, "he who has one hundred coins desires two hundred."

It is precisely for this reason we pose the following question and troubling paradox. Why is it that despite the profound identification of Jews with progress and advance of civilisation, that when it comes to Judaism and spirituality, however, they are in decline? Almost every Jewish community in the Diaspora is in decline, according to statistics. What is the reason for this contradiction?

Why Jews are interested in progress and development for the advance of civilisation, almost as part of their DNA, but when it comes to the advancement and progress of Jewish history and tradition in one’s personal spiritual growth, as well as the community, there is overall decline and assimilation. One encounters apathy, stagnation, ignorance, assimilation and decline. What’s the reason for this striking paradox?

In order to explain this, we will need to deconstruct an important misconception about Judaism. What is evident from the above is that intrinsic to being Jewish is the need to make a fundamental change in the world, whether it is in the sciences, literature, philosophy, politics, social or in any other area of life.

Could this immense ambition be actually a reason for decline and diminishment of Judaism in the world?

It is possible to argue that in Jewish tradition the opposite is true. Being Jewish is not so much about making fundamental change in the world but making a small difference in one’s own life and the lives of people around us.

One of the first and greatest prophets was Elijah, who lived in Israel during a time of material prosperity but spiritual decay. The king of Israel at the time, Ahab, had just cemented an alliance with the king of Phoenicia by marrying the latter’s daughter, Jezebel. The alliance led to unprecedented prosperity for Israel, and the importing of the queen's pagan religion to the Holy Land - the worship of the fertility god Baal.

As a result, Jews began putting idols in their living rooms. They worshipped gods of nature and temptation, just as their pagan neighbors did. They chased after material success, and trampled over the Torah’s values in the process.

When Elijah saw what was happening all around him, he decided to confront the false prophets within his nation and save the faith of his people. He proposed a dramatic showdown by suggesting a trial at Mount Carmel between himself and the prophets of Baal. Both he and they would offer a sacrifice: Elijah to G-d, and Jezebel’s prophets to Baal. Whichever deity sent down a heavenly fire to consume the offering, reasoned Elijah, would be proven as the one true G-d.

Four hundred and fifty prophets of Baal took Elijah up on his challenge and called on their god.

But lo and behold, nothing happened. Not a spark sizzled from the heavens. The prophets, distressed, intensified their prayers, and began to perform wild dances. Still no fire came from the skies. Elijah, who couldn’t resist taking a poke at them said, “Maybe your G-d is having a nap. Cry louder.” So the prophets of Baal began shouting and working themselves into a frenzy. But still not a spark. Eventually they gave up, defeated.

Next was Elijah, standing alone. The prophet uttered a few quiet words of prayer and almost immediately, a fire descended from heaven. The enormous crowds of Jews watching were awestruck at the decisive victory and cried out, “The Lord alone is G-d. The Lord alone is G-d!”

Three thousand years later these profound words are still said at the conclusion of the Yom Kippur – Day of Atonement - service.

Though the false prophets had been shown up in public, King Ahab was none too pleased that Elijah ridiculed what had become the court’s official religion, and set out to hunt him down and have him arrested. Elijah knew his life was in grave danger, and that there was not a single home in all of Israel where he could safely hide.

Ironically, in contemporary Jewish tradition, Elijah is spiritually invited into every home as the honored guest during the Passover Seder and circumcision ceremony, but back then he couldn’t find a single Jewish home as refuge.

In despair, Elijah fled all the way back to Mount Sinai where, centuries earlier, G-d had revealed Himself to the Jewish people and given them the Torah. In prayer he called out to G-d, “You entered into a covenant with this people and they have forsaken Your covenant. They refuse to be a special people. They worship false gods like everyone else. I tried my best but it failed. It’s all over, G-d.”

G-d’s reply to Elijah is one of the strangest responses by the Almighty in the entire history of the Jewish faith. G-d tells Elijah to go and stand on the mountain, where Moses once stood. The prophet does as he’s told and, suddenly, in front of him, he sees a mighty whirlwind shattering rocks and crushing mountains. “But G-d is not in the whirlwind?'

“The whirlwind is then followed by a fierce earthquake. “But G-d is not in the earthquake either?”

Elijah is then almost blinded by a display of raging fire. But G-d is nowhere to be found among the flames.

Finally, Elijah hears “a very small quiet voice.” And immediately, Elijah realizes that that is where G-d is to be found.

Having brought Elijah to this realization, G-d then commands him to go back home to Israel, to undertake the task of rallying his country and lifting the people up from idolatry.

This is a deeply enigmatic episode, mostly because we are never told exactly what G-d was illustrating to Elijah. First, G-d presented a grand display of fantastic force in front of all the people and the priests of Baal. The display was enough to move the people to shout “The Lord alone is G-d,” but it was not enough to overthrow the power of Ahab and his false religion.

Then, after Elijah had fled to Mt. Sinai, he is greeted with more great displays of power, but he is told G-d is not in those events. G-d, it turns out, is in a small voice, and it is that small voice that inspires Elijah to return and struggle for the survival of Judaism. What does it all mean?

The Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Schneersohn, explains (Sichos Kodesh 1960) that the encounter between G-d and Elijah at Mount Sinai was a defining moment in the history of Jewish thought. It goes to the heart of how the Torah is passed from Sinai to the next generation and how Jewish identity is passed on at a time when many Jews are lost.

The Rebbe posited that what G-d was saying to Elijah was that at the Mount Carmel showdown Elijah had shown that G-d can be found in big miracles, and that grand events sometimes move Jewish history forward. But while that may be necessary at times, it is not enough to ultimately advance Jewish history. “G-d is not in the earth-shattering events.”

Big miracles don’t have staying power. They transform nature, but they do not change human nature. Rather, we need to find G-d in the small matters of everyday life - in a small Mitzvah, in the quiet, small voice of prayer and Torah study that is almost drowned out by the noise of daily living. In the small good deeds that don’t grab the headlines, in the quiet voice of comfort and encouragement that lifts another’s spirit, in the small acts of charity that are never publicized, in the whisper of daily prayer, is where G-d resides and Judaism is celebrated.

An earth shattering miracle and ground breaking research temporarily might transform the external world; a single Mitzvah however permanently transforms our internal world and ultimately advances and preserves Jewish history.

The problem is when one views Judaism as the sciences and philosophy, whereby the lack of evident significant change in the intellectual or physical world is seen as failure. With this considerable ambition, many will make the judgment that Judaism is too complicated to advance. It should be left to the rabbis and reverends.

G-d is however not in the earthquake or the storm but the still voice. We don’t need to change the world through Judaism. We need to just do a good deed, a Mitzvah, like observing the Shabbat, a daily prayer, give to charity, and thereby change ourselves for the better and advance Jewish history.

The Rare Oxford Machzor Vitry: A Rosh Hashana essay

Tue, 27 Sep 2011 6:55:00 AM

One of the most important Hebrew manuscripts in Oxford’s Bodleian library is the Machzor Vitry, which includes laws, prayers and liturgical poems, as well as the liturgy for the High Holiday prayers. It is authored by Rabbi Simcha ben Shmuel of Vitry (d. 1105). Rabbi Simcha was a French Talmudist of the 11th and 12th centuries and pupil of the great Biblical and Talmudic commentator Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, known as Rashi (1040-1105). His son Samuel married Rashi's granddaughter and he was the grandfather of the famous Tosafist, Isaac of Dampierre. They both died in the same year.

The Oxford text is a very rare copy and one of only three manuscripts of the Machzor Vitry extant. The oldest, according to Abraham Berliner (1833–1915) in his additions to Hurwitz's introduction to the Machzor Vitry (p. 172), is from Reggio, Italy, currently in the JTS library, which is in a poor state of preservation. The Reggio manuscript contains the Machzor Vitry proper without any additions.

A second manuscript is in the Bodleian Library, Oxford (Neubauer, Cat. Bodl. Hebr. MSS. No. 1100), and is said to have marginal annotations by Eleazar ben Judah Rokeach (c. 1176 - 1238). Rabbi Rokeach is author of the Sefer ha-Rokeach and is also known as Eleazar of Worms, a leading Talmudist and mystic, and the last major member of the Chassidei Ashkenaz, a group of German Jewish pietists.

The third manuscript is in the British Museum (Cod. Add. Nos. 27,200 and 27,201), and also contains many additions, some indicated by the Hebrew letter Tav. These additions include texts from the Sefer ha-Terumah of Baruch ben Isaac and from the Eshkol of Ravad.

This expanded manuscript with the additions served as the basis for S. Hurwitz's edition of the Machzor Vitry published by the Mekitze Nirdamim Society (Berlin, 1893).

The Mekitze Nirdamim Society might have chosen the London manuscript over the others, as the publishing society was established initially by Londoners Sir Moses Montefiore and Chief Rabbi of the British Empire Nathan Adler and others in order to publish old Hebrew works and manuscripts. It is likely that their proximity to the British Museum would have attracted them to this particular manuscript, even though the Oxford and Reggio copies were closer to the original work.

The Machzor Vitry

The Machzor Vitry work is, as mentioned above, not just a prayer book but includes much more, including many laws and a commentary. It consists of three portions; the halakhic legal portion, the liturgical formulae, and commentaries to the prayers taken from the aggadah.

The Reggio manuscript, considered the closest to the original, includes the following topics: weekday prayers with their relevant laws, the night prayer, the order of prayers for the Shabbat and its conclusion, the Sanctification of the Moon, Chanukah, Purim, Passover Haggadah, Ethics of the Fathers with a commentary, commentaries on the Kaddish and the Ten Commandments, service for Rosh Hashanah, the Day of Atonement, Sukkot and the Hoshanot with a commentary, the order of service for Simchat Torah, and much more.

In addition there are many piyyutim and aggadot.

Sources

The main sources of the Machzor Vitry are the decisions and customs of Rabbi Simcha’s teacher, Rashi. The author Rabbi Simcha apparently based himself on the prayer book of Rashi, Siddur Rashi, published by Mekezei Nirdamim in 1910, authored by an unknown student of his, with whose text the Machzor is often identical.

An important difference between Rashi’s prayer book and the Machzor Vitry is that Rashi’s prayer book is not actually a liturgical prayer book, as it excludes all the texts of the prayers. It is a compilation of Talmudic and halachic material on a variety of topics. Nevertheless the decisions and customs in both are often identical.

In the halakhic legal portion of the Machzor Vitry the sources, in addition to the Talmud, are the Gaonic literature, especially the Halakhot Gedolot and Halakhot Pesukot of Rabbi Yehudai Gaon, who was the head of the academy in the Babylonian centre of Jewish scholarship, Sura, from 757 to 761.

One of the principle sources of the halakhic portion of the Machzor Vitry is also the prayer book of Amram Gaon (d. 875), which is often quoted verbatim, without giving the source. Amram Gaon was the first to arrange a complete liturgy for the synagogue, requested by the Jews of Spain, though no early manuscripts of this prayer book survives that can be accurately attributed to the original work.

It is interesting to note that another important early prayer book is that of Saadia Gaon (d. 942), which is the earliest surviving attempt to transcribe the weekly ritual of Jewish prayers. There is no known extant manuscript of the entire text, though there is a near complete manuscript in Oxford. Fragments have also been found in the Cairo Genizah.

A study in the Machzor Vitry

In this essay we will look at two distinct teachings found in the Machzor Vitry which are different from other opinions. The second teaching is not consistent with the liturgy of the prayer book of any denomination, Sephardic or Ashkenazic, in today’s times. As the author is a student of Rashi, in addition to the fact that one of his sources is Rashi’s prayer book, it is probable that the opinions maintained in these teachings would have been the opinion of Rashi and French Jewry in 11th century.

The subjects pertain to the laws of the sounding of the Shofar on Rosh Hashana. The Machzor Vitry discusses the historic reason for the blowing of the Shofar in the synagogue after midday, as opposed to in the morning, and we will then discuss the liturgy of the blessing that is recited on the sounding of the Shofar, which differs from the one recited nowadays in the prayer book.

Why do we delay the blowing of the Shofar?

The sounding of the Shofar on Rosh Hashana is from Leviticus (23:24) ‘Speak to the children of Israel, saying: In the seventh month, on the first of the month, it shall be a Sabbath for you, a remembrance of [Israel through] the Shofar blast, a holy occasion.’

The question posed by many Jewish legalists is: why is the blowing of the Shofar delayed after the Shacharit morning service and reading of the Torah scroll until the Musaf (additional) prayer, which is usually said after midday? Why is the Shofar not sounded during the morning prayers?

This question is posed in the Talmud (Rosh Hashana 32b) based on the premise that one should be ‘zealous in the performance of Mitzvot’ and therefore it should be done as early in the day as possible. The Machzor Vitry quotes the Talmud’s answer that the custom to sound the Shofar during the later Musaf prayer was instituted during a period of governmental decree by the Romans attempting to force Jews to abandon their faith.

The Machzor Vitry elaborates that they decreed prohibiting blowing the Shofar on Rosh Hashana and would send spies until six hours into the day to ensure the decree was enforced. The Jews therefore instituted to delay the sounding of the Shofar until the afternoon Musaf prayer, by which time the spies would have left. The text concludes that although this is no longer relevant, the custom remains.

It is interesting that the wording of the Machzor Vitry here follows almost the exact wording of his teacher Rashi’s commentary on the Talmud. The Talmud text itself merely states that the custom ‘was instituted during a time of governmental decree’. Rashi in his commentary to the Talmud explains that they would post spies until six hours, etc. This is copied almost precisely by his student in the Machzor Vitry.

However, a rationale for the continuity of this custom even after the decree was lifted is not mentioned in Rashi’s commentary at all. What is then the rationale according to Rashi to continue to sound the Shofar so late in the day when there is no danger? The principle of being zealous to perform a Mitzvah as early as possible should be applicable!

The Tosafot commentary on the Talmud explains that although the decree is no longer in effect, there is a concern that it may revert. It is therefore advisable for the custom to sound the Shofar later in the day to remain.

The Jerusalem Talmud (Rosh Hashana 4:8) offers a different explanation of the danger. The reason for the institution of the custom to delay the Shofar blowing was due to an episode in a particular community when they sounded the Shofar in the morning. The enemy were startled and thought they were calling for battle upon which they advanced and massacred the community. It was then instituted that the Shofar should be sounded well into the service, after the morning prayers and the reading of the Torah, when the sounding of the Shofar would seem just part of the custom of the prayers and traditions of the synagogue and would not raise alarm.

This concern seems to be of possible relevance in various places and in certain circumstances even after that episode justifying the continued tradition to sound the Shofar later in the day during the Musaf prayer. This reason is also quoted and preferred by the Medieval Tosafists.

Medieval Talmudist Rabeinu Asher offers in his commentary to the Talmud (Rosh Hashana 4:4) another reason for the continuation of this custom. He writes that once the custom had been instituted it would require another Jewish court to annul the custom even though the initial rationale for the custom is no longer relevant. As this had not occurred, the custom remains in effect as part of Jewish law.

No comment in Rashi

It is interesting however that Rashi does not give any rationale in his commentary on the Talmud why the custom to sound the Shofar later in the day is still permitted, despite the principle to be ‘zealous in the performance of the commandments’. Why is he not concerned with this problem, as are all the other commentators?

It is therefore interesting that his student Rabbi Simcha, author of the Machzor Vitry, does address this issue. Rabbi Simcha quotes the traditional Talmudic answer that it was instituted at a time of governmental decree prohibiting the sounding of the Shofar and then writes ‘when the governmental decree was annulled the institution of the custom was not moved from its place.’

It is clear that this logic follows the rationale of Rabeinu Asher, quoted earlier, who maintains that once the institution is made, it remains in affect even after the rationale is no longer valid until it is positively changed by another court.

However, as mentioned, Rashi’s commentary on the Talmud remains silent not giving any rationale for the continuity of this custom. It is possible that Rabbi Simcha had a different version of the manuscript of his teacher’s commentary to the Talmud, but this would remain to be proven. It is more reasonable to say that although Rashi does not give a rationale, it is implicit that he would follow the rationale offered by Rabeinu Asher regarding the upholding of a custom until annulled, as articulated also by his student Rabbi Simcha. But it remains enigmatic that Rashi does not comment regarding this, when many of the other medievalists do.

Another reason for the delay of the Shofar

The answer to this question seems to be what is being addressed by Rabbi Simcha in the remainder of his comment on this subject. He writes that a second reason for the sounding of the Shofar later in the day during the second prayer is more convincing.

The reason is that since during the morning prayers Jews are already ‘crowned’ with commandments by wearing of the Talit (prayer shawl), the recitation of the Shema about the Unity of G-d, as prescribed according to Jewish law to be recited in the morning and evening, and the reading from the Torah. As these Mitzvot are done during the morning prayers, they would serve to avert Heavenly prosecution on the Day of Judgment. However, during the Musaf prayer there are no Mitzvot. They therefore instituted the sounding of the Shofar during the Musaf afternoon prayer to avert possible prosecution during these prayers.

Rabbi Simcha concludes that this reason seems correct, for otherwise the principle to be zealous in the performance of the Mitzvot would require the sounding of the Shofar earlier.

By bringing this second reason, to increase in performance of good deeds, Mitzvot, during the afternoon, Rabbi Simcha is rejecting the other opinions as valid reasons for the delay of the sounding of the Shofar. This possibly explains why his teacher Rashi also does not give any of the other reasons, as they do not justify in their opinion the continued delaying of the sounding of the Shofar after the decree against the Shofar is no longer relevant.

Why does Rashi not quote second reason like the Machzor Vitry?

The question however is why Rashi does not comment as Rabbi Simcha does as to the true reason for the continuity of this tradition to delay the Shofar sounding.

It appears that Rashi is relying on another comment of his own earlier on in the Talmud in the tractate of Rosh Hashana that addresses this point poignantly. It is also then probable that his student Rabbi Simcha in the Machzor Vitry is finding support in this earlier teaching of Rashi for his rejection of the other rationales by the other medievalists.

Another comment by Rashi in the Talmud as source for the Machzor Vitry

In the Talmud tractate Rosh Hashana (16a), the following question is posed: why do we sound the Shofar when we are sitting and then again sound the Shofar when we are standing - during the Musaf prayer? The Talmud answers succinctly ‘In order to confuse the Satan’, without any elaboration.

Rashi however comments and explains that the Talmud means to say that ‘Satan will be confused and unable to successfully prosecute when it hears how the Jews hold G-d’s commandments dear.’

It is apparent that the Machzor Vitry is alluding to this comment when it writes that the correct reason for the delaying of the sounding of the Shofar to the Musaf prayer is due to the desire to have good deeds, the Mitzvah of the sounding of the Shofar, performed during the later prayers. It is this increase in good deeds during both prayers not just the morning prayers that obstructs the Heavenly prosecution.

Rabbi Simcha’s choice to base his commentary on Rashi’s Talmudic commentary earlier on in the tractate is even more evident due to the fact that there is more than one way to explain the statement of the Talmud ‘In order to confuse the Satan’.

Nachmanides (1194-1270) in Drasha L’Rosh Hashanah explains that the Talmud is not saying that confusing the Satan is a reason for the later soundings but on the contrary it is the reason why the first soundings are blasted before the Musaf prayer, in addition to the later soundings during the Musaf prayer, which are considered the main soundings.

The Talmudic answer ‘to confuse the Satan’, according to Nachmanides, is to explain this point. He writes that by sounding these blasts before the Musaf afternoon prayer, Satan will already become confused at that time and will not be able to prosecute during the prayers.

Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1745 - 1812) in his work Shulchan Aruch Harav, laws of Rosh Hashanah (592:7), also ignores Rashi’s explanation in the Talmud and seems to follow the interpretation of Nachmanides.

This explanation of the Talmudic answer however does not shed any light on the reason why we sound the Shofar during the Musaf prayer and not during the morning prayers. It is only Rashi’s comment regarding the endearment of Mitzvot by sounding the later blasts in the Musaf prayer that offers this explanation for the continued custom for the delaying of the sounding of the Shofar, despite the lack of any decree against the sounding of the Shofar in modern times.

We thus see the insight of the Machzor Vitry and closeness in relation to his teacher, Rashi, not just in his prayer book commentary but also his commentary on the Talmud. It is interesting how consistent Rabbi Simcha is with his teacher in his choice for the rationalization of the intricacies of Jewish law pertaining to the prayers on Rosh Hashana, in the face of other medieval commentaries.

A different blessing on the Shofar

In another important aspect of Jewish law relating to the Shofar, Rabbi Simcha writes in the Machzor Vitry (p. 385/593), ‘The leader of the congregation should take the Shofar and rise and recite the following blessing: Blessed are You, G-d, Lord of the universe, who has sanctified us with his commandments and commanded us on the blowing of the Shofar.’

The opinion of Rabbi Simcha is to recite the blessing that G-d commanded us not on the hearing of the Shofar but to on the blowing of the Shofar. This view is significant, as it goes contrary to most opinions, as well as the accepted opinion, pertaining to the blessing on the Shofar.

Maimonides (1135-1204) in his work Mishneh Torah, laws of Shofar (3:10), writes, ‘The following is the commonly accepted custom for blowing the Shofar on Rosh Hashanah in the communal services: After the Torah is read and returned to its place, the congregation is seated. One person stands and recites the blessing: Blessed are You, G-d, Lord of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to hear the sounding of the Shofar.’

Similarly, the 16th century Shulchan Aruch by Rabbi Joseph Karo, laws of Rosh Hashana (555:2), writes, ‘Before blowing he should recite the blessing to hear the sounding of the Shofar. This is quoted also by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi in his Shulchan Aruch Harav (585:4).

The reason for the opinion of Maimonides, Rabbi Joseph Karo (1488 - 1575) and Rabbi Schneur Zalman, is as explained by the Jewish legal work Arba'ah Turim, known as the Tur, by Rabbi Yaakov ben Asher (1270-1340), that the principle definition of the Biblical commandment of the Shofar is not the blowing of the Shofar but the hearing of the sound of the Shofar.

This is illustrated by the law in Shulchan Aruch (587:1) that if one blows the Shofar but only hears an echo from a pit, rather than the actual sound, one has not fulfilled the Biblical commandment of hearing the Shofar.

Although the majority of the opinions in Jewish law are not as the Machzor Vitry, his opinion is still respected. Rabbi Avraham Abele Gombiner (c. 1633 – c. 1683), in his Jewish legal work Magen Avraham, laws of Rosh Hashana, quotes the earlier opinion of Rabbi Yoel Sirkis (1561–1640) in his Jewish legal work Bayit Chadash, commonly abbreviated as Bach, that if one recited the blessing ‘on the blowing of the Shofar’ the blessing would still be valid.

The principle source of the opinion of the Machzor Vitry pertaining to the blessing on the Shofar is Rabeinu Yehudai Gaon, the head of the Sura academy in Babylon in the 8th century.

Rabeinu Asher ben Yechiel (1250 or 1259 – 1327), commonly abbreviated as Rosh, writes in his commentary to the Talmud (Rosh Hashana 4:10) that the opinion of the great Tosafist Rabeinu Tam (c. 1100–c. 1171), born Yaakov ben Meir, one of the most renowned French Tosafists and a foremost Jewish legal authority of his generation, is to say the blessing ‘on the blowing of the Shofar’.

The reason is because it is the action of blowing that performs the commandment of hearing the Shofar.

It would appear that the custom of French Jewry was indeed to recite the blessing ‘on the blowing of the Shofar’ as oppose to ‘hearing the Shofar’.

The Sephardic opinion however, argued by Maimonides in 12th century and then followed by Rabbi Joseph Karo in 16th century state that the blessing is on the ‘hearing of the Shofar’.

In a Response of Maimonides (Ch. 43), he does not appear conciliatory to the opinion of French Jewry. He questions what the difference is between the blessing on the blowing of the Shofar or the hearing of the Shofar and responds that the difference between them is ‘very, very great’.

He elaborates, ‘The commandment is not to blow the Shofar but to hear the Shofar is sufficient. If the Mitzvah is the blowing of the Shofar then every person would need to blow the Shofar on their own, as each person needs to sit in a Sukkah. It is not something one can do on another’s behalf. This is also proven by the law that if one blew the Shofar but did not hear it one has not fulfilled one’s obligation at all. The definition of the Mitzvah is to hear the Shofar not the blowing, just as the commandment is to sit in a Sukkah and not to build it or to shake the Lulav and not the gathering. For this reason one must make the blessing to hear the Shofar, just as one makes the blessing to sit in the Sukkah.’

Although Maimonides is forthright with his view, it is, however, as mentioned, not as straight forward as it seems. Maimonides himself maintains the importance of the blowing with the correct intentions. This would imply that one cannot divide the blowing from the hearing; they are an inseparable part of the same Mitzvah.

Maimonides, laws of Shofar (2:4), writes, ‘A person who occupies himself with blowing the Shofar in order to learn does not fulfill his obligation. Similarly, one who hears the Shofar from a person who blows it casually does not fulfill his obligation. If the person hearing had the intention of fulfilling his obligation, but the person blowing did not have the intention of facilitating the latter's performance of the mitzvah, or the person blowing had the intention of facilitating his colleague's performance of the mitzvah, but the person hearing did not have the intention of fulfilling his obligation, the person hearing did not fulfil his obligation. Rather, both the person hearing and the one allowing him to hear must have the proper intention.’

It would also appear then that one cannot compare the blowing of the Shofar to the building of a Sukkah. In the case of the Sukkah it is merely a preparation, whereas the blowing of the Shofar is a part of the Mitzvah itself which even according to Maimonides’ view requires the correct intentions.

In the work Mikroei Kodesh, Yomim Noraim (p. 22), it in fact argues this point. The fact that the one blowing the Shofar must also have intentions to fulfill the obligation of the Divine commandment of sounding the Shofar on the Festival indicates that the blowing is also a part of the Mitzvah.

This would explain the accepted opinion in Jewish law that if one were to make a blessing ‘on the blowing of the Shofar’ as the opinion of the Machzor Vitry, it would indeed be a valid blessing.

This is another example of the important role that the Machzor Vitry would have played in articulating Jewish practice of French Jewry based on the teachings of his teacher Rashi and the earlier Gaonim brought over from the academies of Babylon.

Maimonides in Oxford: A commentary on the Oxford Manuscript of the Mishneh Torah

Thu, 22 Sep 2011 1:35:00 PM

Maimonides in Oxford: A commentary on the Oxford Manuscript of the Mishneh Torah

The manuscript of Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah (Ms Hunt. 80) in the Hebrew collection at the Bodleian library in Oxford is one of the most important Hebrew manuscripts in existence. In 1693 the Bodleian library purchased the collections of Dr Robert Huntington and Professor Edward Pococke, the Regius Professor of Hebrew, and among the books bought from Dr Robert Huntington is Maimonides' Mishneh Torah with the author's signature, attesting that the text had been corrected against his original, as he writes (fol. 165r) "corrected against my own book, I Moses, son of Rabbi Maymun of blessed memory".

This manuscript is supremely important both for historical reasons and for the accuracy of its text; it is treated with great reverence by scholarly readers. Huntington bought it while acting as chaplain to the English merchants in Aleppo. For this reason many leading Jewish scholars have sought out this manuscript as a reference to verify the authenticity of their versions.

Incidentally, a second Maimonides manuscript, this one in his own handwriting throughout, was among the 420 manuscripts bought from Professor Edward Pococke. It is the Commentary on the Mishnah, containing the tractates Nezikin and Kiddushin.

Introduction

The manuscripts of Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah originate from three regions, giving rise to the Yemenite, Ashkenazic and Sefardic versions. These three categories were used in their respective communities and are of various degrees of precision.

The Yemenite manuscripts are most authentic, as the Yemenites were known to be most meticulous in preserving the traditional texts of Maimonides. The problem however with the Yemenite manuscripts are that they are believed to be the older version of the Mishneh Torah written by Maimonides and superseded by corrections and changes made by Maimonides himself. They therefore do not reflect the final edition of the Mishneh Torah.

The Ashkenazic manuscripts were the ones used by the Germanic sages and communities. While this version reflects the later edition of Maimonides’ work, after he had edited it , they are known to have many inaccuracies. The Germanic sages had apparently taken the liberty to correct the manuscript based on their rationale where they thought changes were necessary. While their changes may be correct in reflecting the Halakhic decisions, their versions are considered less accurate.

The Sefardic manuscripts of the Mishneh Torah came from Spain, used by the Sefardic communities and are considered most accurate. These were the manuscripts that seemed to have arrived at the Bodleian library. They reflect the later edition of the Mishneh Torah with the changes made by Maimonides, unlike the Yemenite manuscripts, and they are more precisely copied from Maimonides’ original that the Ashkenazic manuscripts.

In addition, one of the Sefardic manuscripts found in the Bodleian library (Hunt. 80) appears to be authenticated by Maimonides himself. This particular manuscript does not contain the entire Mishneh Torah but the first two books of Mada and Ahava. The book of Mada includes the laws regarding belief in G-d, ethics, Torah study and repentance, and the book of Ahava includes laws concerning prayers, ritual objects, blessings and laws of circumcision. These combined contain some of the most basic aspects of Judaism relevant on a daily basis.

In this essay, we will examine the Oxford manuscript (Hunt. 80) of Mada and Ahava that Maimonides authenticated and compare it with other copies. We will aim to explore the significance of these differences and attempt to offer insight into a rationale behind them.

Subjects

The topics that will be analysed include a variety of subjects and some will shed light on the fact that Maimonides may have had a rare edition of the Talmud that is not generally used today as his source for his Mishneh Torah. This may have allowed for the distinct wording that he had chosen in various places. Other idiosyncrasies of this manuscript compared to other manuscripts include missing key words, entire paragraphs and substitute letters with important implications regarding the meaning of the particular law.

An outline of the ideas discussed in this essay include the principle of incorporeality of G-d, relating to whether it’s possible to imply that G-d is awake or can one only not say that G-d wakes up, which would mean there is the concept of sleep concerning G-d. Other issues include astronomy, the definition of an apostate under duress when one is able to flee if so desired to avoid conversion; what constitutes a name of G-d that cannot be erased, whereby Maimonides’ Oxford manuscript includes a name that is generally not included in other editions; the criteria of a true prophet; authenticity of the prophecies of Moses; the ethics concerning purchasing a merchandise and not paying for it immediately; the glaring omission in the Oxford manuscript of a minor being exempt from the study of Torah, and a few other variations.

Does G-d sleep?

An important subject in Maimonides’ works is the principle of the incorporeality of G-d. In Maimonides’ Guide for the Perplexed (Vol. 1 Ch. 26), he dedicates the first volume to this principle. His main point is that despite the fact that much of the Torah describes G-d in corporeal terms, as in ‘G-d hears the cries of the Israelites (Exodus 6:5)’ or ‘G-d smelled the pleasant aroma (Genesis 8:21)’, the Torah merely speaks of G-d in human language. It does not indicate that G-d has human senses or any kind of bodily form.

In the Mishneh Torah, Yesodei Hatorah (1:11), Maimonides clarifies this point. He writes, ‘Since it has been clarified that G-d does not have a body or corporeal form, it is also clear that none of the functions of the body are appropriate to Him; neither connection nor separation, neither place nor measure, neither ascent nor descent, neither right nor left, neither front nor back, neither standing nor sitting. He is not found within time, so that He would possess a beginning, an end or age. He does not change, for there is nothing that can cause Him to change. The concept of death is not applicable to Him, nor is that of life, within the context of physical life. The concept of foolishness is not applicable to Him, not is that of wisdom in terms of human wisdom. Neither sleep nor waking, neither anger nor laughter, neither joy nor sadness, neither silence nor speech in the human understanding of speech are appropriate terms with which to describe Him. Our sages declared: Above, there is no sitting or standing, separation or connection.’

This reading seems to follow the manuscripts that state that the concepts of sleep or waking are not applicable to G-d. The Hebrew word for waking, which implies the action of waking from being asleep, appears to be hakitzah with a Hebrew letter yud making the word sound hakitzah rather than hakatzah.

This word follows a similar word that can be found in Psalms (Ch. 17:15) ‘As for me, in righteousness I behold Your presence; I will be satisfied when I awake with Your likeness’. The Hebrew word for ‘when I awake’ is b’hakitz, similar to hakitzah.

This translation in Psalms of b’hakitz meaning ‘awaking’ is the opinion of 11th century Biblical commentator Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki and others. They interpret this verse in Psalms to be saying that when the dead will wake up from their sleep they will be satisfied with G-d’s countenance, referring to the time of the resurrection of the dead. Accordingly, b’hakitz refers to the action of waking up from being asleep. Similarly, then, the word hakitzah can be understood in the same way, as awaking from being asleep.

Grammarian Ibn Ezra, however, explains this verse in Psalms differently. The verse is saying ‘I am satisfied from the delight of G-d not when G-d is revealed to a person in a dream but when He is awake’. Thus, according to Ibn Ezra, the word b’hakitz means ‘when awake’ rather than the action of awaking. Accordingly, one can explain that in the text of Maimonides, the word hakitzah can also mean the passive state of being awake rather than waking.

With this distinction, the Oxford manuscript (Ms Hunt. 80 fol. 35a) can be understood. The word it uses for the negation of G-d waking is Hakatzah, which means the action of waking from being asleep, as shown according to Ibn Ezra. What is the distinction between these two versions and why might the Oxford edition be more justified?

The manuscripts that negate G-d being awake in the passive sense in fact follow other descriptions by Maimonides also structured in the passive rather than active form. The word ‘sleep’ for example is in the passive form rather than the process of falling asleep, as are ‘standing’ and ‘sitting’. They refer to the position of standing and sitting rather than arising and sitting down.

It therefore would make sense that the term should be similarly ‘awake’, Hakitzah, according to Ibn Ezra, rather than as written in the Oxford manuscript ‘waking’, Hakatzah. Why then would the Oxford manuscript be justified?

The justification is that while theologically one cannot apply sitting or standing literally to G-d, the state of being awake may in fact be applied to G-d, even if not to the same form as one would apply it to human beings.

This will be similar to the term ‘wisdom’ and ‘life’ attributed to G-d. Maimonides does not say that one cannot describe G-d as ‘wise’ or ‘alive’, even though these are applied also to humans. For this reason, Maimonides qualifies these descriptions by adding the words ‘in terms of human wisdom or life’. In other words, wisdom and life do apply to G-d but in a different or loftier form, whatever form that might be.

Similarly, one can say, the state of being awake can also apply to G-d albeit not in the same form of being awake as by human beings. Perhaps for this reason, the Oxford manuscript is more justified in writing the active form of Hakatzah, as the action of awaking certainly cannot be applied to G-d in any form and needs to be negated. The idea of G-d being awake and conscious, however, will not be negated to the same degree.

The anthropomorphism of sleep

While in the literal sense, one cannot theologically say that G-d sleeps, we find that anthropomorphically one can use the terminology of sleep and awaking regarding G-d.

The Talmud (Megillah 15b) quotes the book of Esther, ‘On that night the sleep of the king was disturbed’ and interprets it to mean, according to Rabbi Tanhum that ‘the sleep of the King of the Universe (G-d) was disturbed’. This verse is in fact considered the turning point in the story of Haman and his plot to kill the Jews in the Persian Empire and marks the beginning of his downfall.

The idea of sleep in reference to G-d is further illustrated by the Talmudic teaching (Sotah 48a), ‘Rehabah said, The Levites used daily to stand upon the dais of the Temple in Jerusalem and exclaim, Awake, why do You sleep, O Lord? He said to them, Does, then, the All-Present sleep? Has it not been stated (Psalm 121): Behold, He that guards Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep! But so long as Israel abides in trouble the words ‘Awake, why do You sleep, O Lord?’ should be uttered.’

This however does not contradict the view of Maimonides above. The Talmud is referring to G-d as being in a state of sleep only in the sense that G-d allows Himself to appear unaware of suffering. It does not indicate any corporeal meaning of sleeping and awaking in a literal sense regarding G-d.

Astronomy in Maimonides

In another place in the Oxford manuscript of Mishneh Torah an entire word appears missing. In Yesodei Hatorah (3:7) it discusses the nine heavenly spheres: the closest is the Hebrew word for moon, the second is the sphere that contains the planet Kochav, referring to Mercury, the third contains the planet Nogah, which refers to Venus, the fifth Ma’dim, referring to Mars, the sixth Tzedek, referring to Jupiter, the seventh Shabbtai, referring to Saturn, the eighth contains all the stars which are seen in the sky and the ninth sphere is the sphere which revolves each day from east to west and surrounds and encompasses everything.

Maimonides continues that the ninth sphere, which encompasses all the others, was divided by the Sages of the early generations into twelve sections, called Mazalot or constellations. They gave each of these sections a name based on the shapes that appeared to be formed by the stars below it in the eighth sphere, which correspond to it. These names of the Mazalot, based on the shape of the stars, include the lamb, ox, twins, crab, lion, virgin, scales, scorpion, bow, goat, bucket and fish.

Maimonides qualifies that these twelve forms corresponded to these divisions only at the time of the flood and then they were given these names. However, at present they have already moved slightly, because all the stars in the eighth sphere move, as the sun and the moon do. It is just that these stars move more slowly.

It would take any of these stars approximately seventy years to move the same distance which the sun and the moon move in one day.

The Oxford manuscript (fol. 37b) omits the words ‘and the moon’ in the last sentence. They are however present in almost all the other manuscripts and printed editions. What is the meaning of this omission and which might be the more correct version?

Maimonides follows the geocentric view of the universe accepted until Copernicus in the 16th century that the sun and the moon orbit the Earth. According to this view the sun circles the earth every 365 days constituting the solar year and the moon circles the earth every 29 and a half days constituting the lunar calendar. Thus, the speed that the sun circles the earth is different from the speed that the moon circles the earth.

This contradicts the text above that indicates that the sun and the moon rotate the earth at the same speed. This problem is indeed rectified in the Oxford manuscript where the words ‘and the moon’ are omitted.

It is interesting to note that this correction is complicated further according to Copernicus’ heliocentric view of the world that sees the sun at the centre of the universe. According to this view the sun does not rotate the Earth at all but rather the reverse. According to Einstein’s view of relativity in the 20th century, however, as mentioned in a lecture in Oxford by NASA Astrophysicist Dr. Jeremy Schnittman, modern science is inconclusive regarding this debate and either model is acceptable, though as a working model for calculations the heliocentric view is more accepted. This once again gives relevance to the discrepancy in the manuscripts and makes Maimonides’ Oxford version consequential.

Fleeing from apostasy

In the section of Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah, entitled Yesodei Hatorah relating to the laws of apostasy (5:4), the Oxford manuscript omits an entire paragraph. It relates to the concept of sanctification of G-d’s name when being forced to violate one’s belief.

Maimonides writes, Jews are commanded regarding the sanctification of G-d's great name, as Leviticus (22:32) states: "And I shall be sanctified amidst the children of Israel." Also, they are warned against desecrating His holy name, as the above verse states: "And they shall not desecrate My holy name."

What is implied? Should someone arise and force a Jewish person to violate one of the Divine commandments at the pain of death, he should violate the commandment rather than be killed, because Leviticus (18:5) states concerning the commandments, "which a man will perform and live by them." They were given so that one may live by them and not die because of them. If a person dies rather than transgress, he is held accountable for his life.

The above applies with regard to all the commandments with the exception of the worship of other gods, forbidden sexual relations, and murder. With regard to these three cardinal sins, if one is ordered: "Transgress one of them or be killed," one should sacrifice his life rather than transgress.

Maimonides then discusses the phenomenon of forced conversion to another religion by the threat of death. This was something that Maimonides himself experienced and for which he was forced to flee Spain in 13th century. Although Maimonides fled he was fully aware that many chose not to due to the difficulties involved or were unable to due to infirmity and many converted to Islam.

Maimonides continues to address this sensitive subject in his Code. He first talks about those who are courageous and indeed sacrifice their lives for their faith and then addresses those who do not rise to this challenge and convert. The question arises: how does Judaism view these individuals or communities who convert and do not sacrifice their life?

Maimonides writes: “When anyone about whom it is said ’Sacrifice your life and do not transgress,’ sacrifices his life and does not transgress, he sanctifies G-d's name. If he does so in the presence of ten Jews, he sanctifies G-d's name in public, like Daniel, Chananiah, Mishael, Azariah, and Rabbi Akiva and his colleagues. These were slain by the wicked kingdom, above whom there is no higher level.’

Concerning them, Maimonides quotes Psalms (44:23), which states "For Your sake, we have been slain all day, we are viewed as sheep for the slaughter," and Psalms (50:5) which states: "Gather unto Me, My pious ones, those who have made a covenant with Me by slaughter."

Maimonides then addresses the question about those who do not rise to the challenge and either convert or murder under duress or commit a sexual transgression. He writes, “When anyone about whom it is said: ’Sacrifice your life and do not transgress,’ transgresses instead of sacrificing his life, he desecrates G-d's name. If he does so in the presence of ten Jews, he desecrates G-d's name in public, nullifies the fulfilment of the positive commandment of the sanctification of G-d's name, and violates the negative commandment against the desecration of G-d's name.”

Nevertheless, since he was forced to transgress, he is not punished by lashing, and, needless to say, is not executed by the court even if he was forced to slay a person.

The punishments of lashes and execution are administered only to one who transgresses voluntarily, when the transgression is observed by witnesses, and when a warning was given, as Leviticus (20:5) states concerning one who gives his children to the worship of Molech: "I will turn My face against that person." The oral tradition teaches that we can infer "that person" to exclude one who is forced to transgress, who transgresses inadvertently, or who transgresses because of an error. If, concerning the worship of false gods, which is the most serious of sins, a person who is forced to worship is not liable for excision - karet, nor, needless to say, execution by a court, how much more so does this principle apply regarding the other Divine commandments of the Torah. Similarly, regarding forbidden sexual relations, Deuteronomy (22:26) states: "Do not do anything to the maiden."

At the end of this discussion, in most of the versions of Maimonides, there is an enjoinder. The issue is concerning someone who is forced to convert, commit murder or have forbidden sexual relations but previously had the ability to flee and chose not to. How does Judaism view such a person? Does it constitute a voluntary transgression of a cardinal sin or forced violation?

In most of the editions of Maimonides this question is addressed as follows. It states, ‘One who could, however, escape and flee from under the power of a wicked king and fails to do so is like a dog who returns to lick his vomit. He is considered as one who worships false gods willingly. He will be prevented from reaching the world to come and will descend to the lowest levels of Gehinnom.’

In the Oxford manuscript of Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah (fol. 40b), as well as the Berlin manuscript, however, this final section about when a person has the potential to flee but chooses not to is completely omitted. The reason for this omission is not clear. Also, which version is more likely to be correct?

It is certain that Maimonides does not argue with this point itself. This very point is made in Maimonides’ Epistle of Apostasy known in Hebrew as Igeret Ha’shmad. He writes that while he defends Spanish Jewry for converting to Islam under duress, he nevertheless considers Jews who remain in Spain voluntarily under such circumstances bordering negligent abandonment of the Jewish faith. He urges strongly that Jews should leave Spain to a place where Judaism can be practised freely. If Jews feel they must remain in Spain, they should live covertly and stay as much as possible indoors, to avert total assimilation.

At the end of the letter he emphases this point again. He concludes by advising strongly that Jews should flee countries that prohibit Jewish beliefs and escape, even under dangerous travel conditions, to a country where it is permitted to be conspicuously Jewish. One should not be distressed by leaving behind beloved family members, nor should they feel concerned that they are forfeiting their possessions by fleeing the country, as these matters are insignificant when considering the importance of retaining one’s Jewish belief.

Clearly, Maimonides maintains a harsh view of people who voluntarily choose to stay in a country where they are forced to convert to another religion.

It remains therefore unclear why the Oxford and Berlin editions omit this relevant clause. It can be hypothesised that possibly it was not in the manuscript of the Mishneh Torah in the first place and was added from the Igeret Ha’shmad, as a relevant enjoinder to this subject. In fact, in many editions of the Mishneh Torah this section is in a bracket. This would remain however to be proven.

Buying a merchandise – an Oxford Talmud used by Maimonides

Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah in Yesodei Hatorah (5:11) continues on the theme above concerning the behaviour of a person that sanctifies the name of G-d or the reverse. Maimonides then proceeds to take this to a more subtle degree. He writes, ‘There are other deeds which are also included in the category of the desecration of G-d's name, if performed by a person of great Torah stature who is renowned for his piety - i.e., deeds which, although they are not transgressions, will cause people to speak disparagingly of him. This also constitutes the desecration of G-d's name.’

The Oxford edition of Maimonides, as others, then gives the following examples (fol. 41a): “…a person who purchases merchandise and does not pay for it immediately, although he possesses the money, and thus, the sellers demand payment and he pushes them off; a person who jests immoderately; or who eats and drinks near or among the common people; or whose conduct with other people is not gentle and he does not receive them with a favourable countenance, but rather contests with them and vents his anger; and the like. Everything depends on the stature of the sage. The extent to which he must be careful with himself and go beyond the measure of the law depends on the level of his Torah stature.”

The first example about ‘a person who purchases merchandise and does not pay for it immediately, although he possesses the money, and thus, the sellers demand payment and he pushes them off’ is found in all the manuscript editions of Maimonides.

The question arises: what is Maimonides’ source for this example? As Maimonides makes it clear in his introduction to the Mishneh Torah that his work is a code drawing on the earlier works of the Talmud and subsequent works until his day, we will try and examine his Talmudic source.

The Talmud (Yoma 86a) states, “What constitutes profanation of G-d’s Name? Rav said: ‘ If, for instance, I take meat from the butcher and do not pay him at once.’ Abaye qualifies this statement and says: ‘We have learnt to regard as profanation only in a place wherein one does not go out to collect payment, but in a place where one does go out to collect, there is no harm in not paying at once.’ Rabina said: ‘And Matha Mehasia, where he lived, is a place where one goes out collecting payments due.’

It appears at first that this seems to be the source of Maimonides in the Mishneh Torah, where it requires a person to pay for merchandise immediately. However, when looking more closely at this Talmudic source it is obvious that Maimonides might have had a different edition of the Talmud. In the above quote of the Talmud it mentions that in a place where they collect payment, one need not pay immediately and it is not a profanation of G-d’s name if one does not do so. Why then does Maimonides write that “a person who purchases merchandise and does not pay for it immediately and the sellers demand payment’ is a profanation of G-d’s name?” If it is a place where the sellers collect payment, he need not pay immediately and it is not a profanation of G-d’s name according to the Talmud!

This question is in fact posed by Rabbi Joseph Karo in his commentary to the Mishneh Torah Kesef Mishneh.

In the Bodleian library in Oxford, however, there is a manuscript of the Talmud that indeed provides for the reading of Maimonides, that even in a place where the custom is to collect payment, it is considered a profanation of G-d’s name if the buyer does not pay immediately.

The names of G-d according to the Oxford manuscript

In his Mishneh Torah Maimonides describes the names of G-d that cannot be erased. The subject of the meaning of G-d’s names is explained at length in Maimonides’ Guide for the Perplexed (vol. 1 Ch. 62), however in his Mishneh Torah he deals with the legal question - what are the names of G-d that one may not erase due to their sanctity?

In Yesodei Hatorah (6:2), Maimonides states: “There are seven names for G-d: 1) The explicit name of G-d, which is written Yud-Hey-Vav-Hey. This is also written Alef-Daled-Nun-Yud. 2) The name El; 3) The name Elo'ah; 4) The name Elohim; 5) The name Elohai; 6) The name Shaddai; 7) The name Tz'vaot; Whoever erases even one letter from any of these seven names is liable for lashes.”

This is the version according to most editions of Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah.

The principle source for this law is the Talmud (Shavuot 35a), which states: “These are the Names which may not be erased, such as the name El; Eloha; Elohim; your God; I am that I am; Alef Daleth; Yod He; Shaddai and Tz’vaot. However, descriptions as Great, the Mighty, the Revered, the Majestic, the Strong, the Powerful, the Potent, the Merciful and Gracious, the Long Suffering, the One Abounding in Kindness may be erased”.

Clearly, the Talmud mentions an additional name ‘I am that I am’ as one of the names of G-d that may not be erased. Why doesn’t Maimonides include the name ‘I am’ that is found in the Talmud?

In the Oxford manuscript of Mishneh Torah (fol. 41b), however, it does in fact include ‘I am’ Ehyeh, as the fifth name of G-d that may not be erased, instead of Elohai.

Rabbi Joseph Karo (1488-1575) suggests in his work Kesef Mishneh, a commentary to Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah, that the reason in Ashkenazic editions the name ‘I am’ is not mentioned is because Maimonides may have had another edition of the Talmud that did not include this as one of G-d’s names. However, he concludes that the Oxford and Rome manuscript copies that have the name ‘I am’ mentioned as one of the seven names of G-d are the correct versions of Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah in this instance.

In his code of Jewish law, Shulchan Aruch (Yoreh Deah Ch. 276:9), however, Rabbi Joseph Kairo ignores his validation of the Oxford version in his commentary on Maimonides, that includes ‘I am’ as a name of G-d, and omits it in his code of Jewish law. He merely mentions it as additional opinion but not as his primary opinion. This seems to suggest that, in his view, the Oxford version might not be the correct version after all when it come to the actualisation of Jewish law.

What is then the justification for the Oxford edition that does include this description of G-d’s name, unlike the other editions? In addition, what is the justification of Rabbi Joseph Karo that seems to side with the version that omits this name, when most editions of the Talmud include it?

While this essay might not be able to offer a final verdict on which version of Maimonides is correct in this case, it would be appropriate to explain the rationale behind this debate, which is based on a discussion of the Biblical text itself.

The name ‘I am that I am’ is written in the book of Exodus in response to Moses when G-d sent him to inform the Jews of the Exodus. It states in Exodus (3:13-14), And Moses said to G-d, "Behold I come to the children of Israel, and I say to them, 'The G-d of your fathers has sent me to you,' and they say to me, 'What is His name?' what shall I say to them?" G-d said to Moses, "Ehyeh asher ehyeh (I am that I am or as translated by some, I will be what I will be)," and He said, "So shall you say to the children of Israel, 'Ehyeh (I will be) has sent me to you.'

According to Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, known as Rashi (1040-1105), Nachmanides (1195-1270) and Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508), the name ‘I will be’ is not a name of G-d that is being revealed to Moses but rather a reassurance that G-d will be with the Israelites through all times of distress.

What is Maimonides view regarding this Biblical text? Is it a name as it would seem from Moses’ question or a declaration of reassurance, according to Nachmanides and Rashi?

In the Guide for the Perplexed, Maimonides seems to state that ‘I am’ is indeed a name of G-d. Maimonides explains (vol. 1 Ch. 63) that Moses is not asking what G-d’s name is, as they were aware of the names of G-d through tradition from the Patriarchs. Moses is asking how he will be able to prove the existence of G-d in the universe to the people before announcing to them that G-d had sent him. Maimonides continues that the response of G-d was ‘I am’, a name that is derived from the verb hayah, in the sense of existing, meaning to say that Moses shall explain that G-d’s existence is absolute: there has never been a time when He did not exist, nor will there ever be.

It seems obvious when reading the above chapter in the Guide for the Perplexed that although ‘I am’ is not a name like other names reflecting a particular attribute of G-d, but rather His very existence, it is nevertheless described by Maimonides as a name of G-d!

This then seems to be consistent with the Oxford version of the Mishneh Torah that mentions ‘I am’ as one of G-d’s names that cannot be erased. It, however, compounds the question against Rabbi Joseph Karo who sides with the versions of Maimonides that do not mention ‘I am’ as one of G-d’s names, despite Maimonides in his Guide for the Perplexed clearly stating that it is indeed a name of G-d.

Rabbi Menachem M. Schneersohn, known as the Rebbe, in his work Likutei Sichot (vol. 26 p. 11), reconciles the opinion in the Guide for the Perplexed with the Mishneh Torah, according to Rabbi Joseph Karo’s opinion. He explains that the nature of this name, as described in the Guide for the Perplexed, reflects the very existence and essence of G-d. This essence of G-d’s existence is of a nature that is necessarily transcendent and beyond reference to the Universe. It therefore can also not be defined in terms of holy or unholy, which are relative terms in reference to our existence – that which is worldly is profane and that which is above is holy. On the level of G-d’s essence, it transcends this distinction. This, according to Rabbi Schneersohn, can possibly explain the opinion of Rabbi Joseph Karo and the versions of Maimonides that do not list the name ‘I am’ as a holy name of G-d that cannot be erased.

As this explanation is founded on Maimonides’ Guide for the Perplexed, it would appear that both conflicting manuscript versions of Mishneh Torah are in fact consistent with his view in the Guide for the Perplexed. The Oxford edition that mentions ‘I am’ as G-d’s name agrees with the Guide for the Perplexed that defines it as a name of G-d, and the opinion of Rabbi Joseph Karo following the other manuscripts will be consistent with the explanation of the name ‘I am’, as a reason why not to list it as a name, due to its transcendence. The correct version however remains elusive

Holy words

On the same topic of the appropriate treatment of holy texts, we find another difference between the manuscripts, in which the motive of the Oxford edition is apparent. It is pertaining to the names of G-d that cannot be erased and descriptions of G-d that may be erased.

Maimonides writes in Yesodei Hatorah (6:5), ”Other descriptive terms which are used to praise the Holy One, blessed be He - e.g., the Gracious, the Merciful, the Great, the Mighty, the Awesome, the Faithful, the Jealous, the Powerful, and the like, are considered as other holy texts and may be erased.”

The final words ”considered as other holy texts” are an addition to the Talmud mentioned above which only states pertaining to these descriptions that they may be erased. It omits the comparison to other holy texts. The above wording however is problematic; it is not just a superfluous addition that is not found in the Talmudic source.

In the same chapter (6:8), Maimonides makes it clear that holy texts may not be destroyed. He writes, ‘It is forbidden to burn or to destroy by direct action any sacred texts, their commentaries, and their explanations. A person who destroys them by his direct action is given stripes for rebelliousness.’

How then can Maimonides contradict himself a few paragraphs earlier and write that holy texts may be erased?

The problem is compounded by the fact that the source of this law about descriptive terms of G-d is from the Talmud tractate Shavuot (35a), where it states ‘However, the great the might, the awesome, the sublime, the strong, the vigorous, the potent, the gracious, the compassionate, the slow to anger, and the abundant in kindness, these names may be erased.’

It is only in the text of Maimonides where it adds the words ‘are considered as other holy texts and may be erased’. However, this poses a question, why does it compare it to holy texts, when holy texts should in fact not be destroyed?

The Oxford manuscript of Maimonides (fol. 41b), as well as the Berlin manuscript, however, seem to rectify this and write “are considered as holy words and may be erased”.

This version seems preferable as there are indeed cases when holy words may have been written by mistake and do not constitute holy texts and can be erased.

An unclear letter regarding the role of a public prophet

In the following source in Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah there appears to be confusion over what a particular letter in the manuscript is meant to be and the difference does not necessarily seem to reflect any logical debate but is rather a case of this mistaken identity.

In Yesodei Hatorah (7:7), Maimonides explains that there are two types of prophets, private prophet and public prophet. He writes, “There is the possibility that a prophet will experience prophecy for his own sake alone - i.e., to expand his mental capacities and to increase his knowledge - allowing him to know more about the lofty concepts than he knew before. It is also possible that he will be sent to one of the nations of the world, or to the inhabitants of a particular city or kingdom, to prepare them and to inform them what they should do or to prevent them from continuing the evil which they are doing.”

In this last section, there is the description according to most of the manuscripts of a public prophet whose role is ‘to prepare them’ concerning what they should or should not do. In the Hebrew, the word is lekhonen.

However in the Oxford manuscript (fol. 43a) the word that appears to be written in the margin is levonen, which means that the role of a public prophet is to give them ‘comprehension’ of what to do or what not to do.

It is interesting that this word that seems to have been first left out of the Oxford manuscript and then added in the margin does not appear to be in exactly the same handwriting as the text itself, though the style of the script is similar. As this manuscript was authenticated by Maimonides himself, as mentioned, it is speculative whether Maimonides himself would have added this word when he reviewed the manuscript or instructed it to be added before authenticating the manuscript.

There are also other corrections that have been added to correct this manuscript even on the same page that we are discussing (fol. 43a), as the letter mem in the word mitnave, which means to prophesise, that appears to have been added later on in between the lines.

The difference between the two versions, lekhonen or levonen, seems to be due to confusion between two Hebrew letters which look extremely similar, the letter kaf and the letter bet. It does not necessarily point to anything conceptual between them.

One can argue, however that the Oxford version is more consistent with the qualification for being a prophet and the role of a private and public prophet, according to Maimonides, as being principally intellectual in nature. This is evident from what he writes in this same chapter regarding prophecy.

Maimonides explains (7:1) that “prophecy is bestowed only upon a very wise sage of a strong character, who is never overcome by his natural inclinations in any regard. Instead, with his mind, he overcomes his natural inclinations at all times. He must also possess a very broad and accurate mental capacity. A person, who is full of all these qualities and is physically sound, is fit for prophecy. When he enters the Pardes and is drawn into these great and sublime concepts, if he possesses an accurate mental capacity to comprehend and grasp them, he will become holy.”

Maimonides then continues, as mentioned earlier, to explain the purpose of a prophet (7:7) that “there is the possibility that a prophet will experience prophecy for his own sake alone - i.e., to expand his mental capacities and to increase his knowledge - allowing him to know more about the lofty concepts than he knew before”.

As Maimonides maintains that the qualification for a prophet needs to be primarily great wisdom to expand his knowledge of sublime concepts it therefore also makes sense that a public prophet has a similar purpose to expand public knowledge and to give greater comprehension to people about right and wrong. The correct word to describe this would be indeed Levonen, from the Hebrew word Binah, which means comprehension.

The role of a public prophet as being one who enables comprehension is also evident in Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah, laws of repentance (9:2), regarding the public prophecy of Messiah. Maimonides writes, ‘These changes will come about because the king who will arise from David's descendants will be a greater master of knowledge than Solomon and a great prophet, close to the level of Moses, our teacher. Therefore, he will teach the entire nation and instruct them in the path of G-d.’

The other manuscript versions of Maimonides that write lekonen, to prepare, seem therefore less consistent with the theme that Maimonides has been trying to explain pertaining to the role of the prophet, as being intellectual and instructive in nature.

Three further corrections in the Oxford manuscript

In three further sources, there are variations in the Oxford manuscript, which seem to make more sense than their manuscript counterparts of Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah.

One is concerning the philosophical question posed by numerous medieval Jewish philosophers how one can determine the truth about Moses’ prophecy. In most manuscripts of Mishneh Torah in Yesodei Hatorah (8:2), it writes, ‘Thus, those to whom Moses was sent witnessed his appointment as a prophet, and it was not necessary to perform another wonder for them. He and they were witnesses in this matter, like two witnesses who observed the same event together. Each one serves as a witness to his colleague that he is telling the truth, and neither has to bring any other proof to his colleague. Similarly, all Israel were witnesses to the appointment of Moses, our teacher, at the revelation at Mount Sinai, and it was unnecessary for him to perform any further wonders for them.’

This version however sounds repetitive, as it says ‘He (Moses) and they were witnesses, like two witnesses who observed the same event (the revelation at Mount Sinai) together. Why the repetition of the word witnesses?

The Oxford manuscript however writes (fol. 44a) ‘He and they were one in this matter, like two witnesses who witnessed one event together.’

The Oxford version makes more sense also due a comparative source. This point of comparing Moses and the people as witnesses together in the prophecy of Mount Sinai is elaborated in the same manner by Maimonides further on in the chapter. Maimonides writes according to all the versions (8:3), ‘This conclusion is reached because the prophecy of Moses, our teacher, is not dependent on wonders, so that we could compare these wonders, one against the other. Rather we saw and heard with our own eyes and ears as he did. To what can this be compared? To witnesses who gave testimony concerning a matter to a man who had observed the situation with his own eyes. He will never listen to them and will know for certain that they are false witnesses.’

First Maimonides unites the vision of Moses and the people regarding Mount Sinai and then proceeds to compare it to witnesses in almost a legal sense. As two witnesses cannot be disregarded, so to the testimony at Mount Sinai cannot be refuted. This similar style seems to point to the version of the Oxford manuscript in this case, although there is no substantial difference between the two versions.

Does a commentary belong in the actual text of Maimonides?

A known fact regarding Maimonides’ legal code of Mishneh Torah is the fact that it does not contain sources. Indeed, Maimonides received criticism for this and he desired to rewrite the work with all the sources but was unable to fulfil this ambition due to time constraints.

In the following text of the Mishneh Torah it is therefore out of character that it chooses to present a Talmudic source for his view about prophecy. In Mishneh Torah, Yesodei Hatorah (10:4), it discusses a difference between the substantiation of a prophet based on positive prophecy and negative predictions. The failure of the latter does not define him as a false prophet, while the failure of the former to materialise does define him as a false prophet.

The reason is because a negative prophecy can be annulled due to the fact that G-d is ‘slow to anger, abundant in kindness, and forgiving of evil. Thus, it is possible that they will repent and their sin will be forgiven, as in the case of the people of Nineveh, or that retribution will be held in abeyance, as in the case of Hezekiah.’ However a positive prophecy cannot be annulled and thus its failure to materialise can be a cause for him to be condemned a false prophet.

In the text of Maimonides pertaining to this distinction, in many editions, it contains the following in brackets, ‘We find G-d nullifying a positive prophecy only during the destruction of the first Temple. He had promised the righteous that they would not die together with the wicked; however, He nullified this prophecy, as explained in the tractate of Shabbat.’

In the version of Maimonides according to the 15th century Spanish Rabbi Isaac Don Abravenel, the Berlin manuscript, as well as the Oxford manuscript of the Mishneh Torah (fol. 46a), omits this section entirely.

According to the style of this text, it would appear that it belongs to a critic of Maimonides who seems to be pointing out an opposing view stating that it in fact is possible for a good prophecy to be annulled. According to a commentator of the Mishneh Torah, Rabbi Reuven Margolis, it is most likely that this qualification is actually a comment by Rabbi Avraham ben David, who regularly points out opposing views to Maimonides in the Mishneh Torah. For some reason, in this case, the comment got inserted in some of the manuscript copies into the text of Maimonides itself.

The other reason why one can assume this comment does not belong to Maimonides is, as mentioned earlier, it would have been uncharacteristic for Maimonides to have written at the end of the comment ‘as explained in the tractate of Shabbat’, as he does not usually quote sources for the decisions in his legal code.

For these reasons, the Oxford manuscript, as well as the Berlin manuscript, seem to be justified for omitting this comment altogether.

Does belief alone suffice?

There are times when a version consisting of a single letter in a manuscript is of no substantial significance and at times will make a critical difference to a particular idea. In the final section of Yesodei Hatorah (10:5), in the Mishneh Torah, the Oxford manuscript makes a simple but crucial omission of a single Hebrew letter. In the theology of something as important in Judaism as prophecy this particular letter seems to be of great importance.

Maimonides writes in the Oxford manuscript (fol. 46a), ‘Once a prophet has made known his prophecy, and his words have proven true time after time, or another prophet has proclaimed him a prophet, if he continues in the path of prophecy, it is forbidden to doubt him or to question the truth of his prophecy. When establishing the authenticity of a prophet, it is forbidden to test him more than necessary. We may not continue to test him forever, as Deuteronomy (6:15) states: "Do not test God, your Lord, as you tested him in Marah," when the Jews said (Exodus 17:7): "Is God in our midst or not?" Rather, once an individual is established as a prophet, we should believe in him and know that God is in our midst. We should not doubt or question him, as implied by Ezekiel (2:5): "They shall know that a prophet was in their midst."

According to Maimonides then there are two methods to know a true prophet, one is his words having been proven true repeatedly and, secondly, if another prophet proclaims him a prophet. In the Oxford manuscript, the word ‘proven’ is written in the Hebrew v’ha’amnu, which means proven true.

In most of the other manuscripts, however, there is an additional Hebrew letter yud, which alters the word to be read v’he’minu, which means ‘and they believed him’.

This implies that the qualification of a true prophet is the mere fact that the people believed his prophecies repeatedly or if another prophet proclaimed him a prophet. This difference, though determined by just a simple Hebrew letter, seems to be of great significance.

It would appear that the Oxford edition in this case would seem more justified as a reason to authenticate a prophet. It’s logical that an objective confirmation of prophecies coming true should be more a qualification for true prophet status that the subjective belief of albeit many in his prophecies.

An extra quote

Maimonides many times supports his laws, although not with Talmudic sources but, with Biblical sources. In some cases his choice of sources or words within a particular source is seen as deliberate.

This is illustrated in the section of Maimonides where he discusses the law of hospitality. It states in Mishneh Torah, laws of mourning (14:2) ‘The reward one receives for accompanying guests is greater than all of the others. This is a statute which Abraham our Patriarch instituted and the path of kindness which he would follow. He would feed wayfarers, provide them with drink, and accompany them. Showing hospitality for guests surpasses receiving the Divine Presence as Genesis (18:2) states: And he saw and behold there were three people.’

The Talmud in tractate Shabbat (127a) is the source for this teaching about the greatness of welcoming guests and brings the source from a different verse in the same story (18:3), ‘And he said, "My lords, if only I have found favour in your eyes, please do not pass on from beside your servant.’

In this case, although the quote of Maimonides is from the same story when Abraham gave precedence to the guests over the Divine presence but it is significant that Maimonides takes the liberty to choose the earlier verse relating Abraham seeing the three guest-angels rather than when Abraham actually excuses himself from G-d in order to welcome the guests.

In Likutei Sichot (vol. 25 p. 70), it suggests the reason for this diversion of Maimonides is to emphasise the importance of welcoming guests is from the time the host sees the guests. In the sight of the guests it should evoke a feeling of openness and warmth. Maimonides is suggesting that the virtue of welcoming guests is not just to feed the guests but to shower warmth of hospitality on the guests in addition to serving their physical needs.

However, in the manuscript under discussion it is unlikely that we will be able to read any significance in to this Oxford version. Maimonides writes in Mishneh Torah, laws of Yesodei HaTorah (10:4), ‘We can conclude from this that a prophet should be tested on the basis of his positive prophecies. This was what Jeremiah meant by his reply to Chananiah ben Ozer, when he was prophesying doom and Chananiah was promising a glorious future. He told Chananiah: If my words are not fulfilled, this will not lead to the conclusion that I am a false prophet. If your promises are not fulfilled, however, it will be proven that you are a false prophet," as implied by Jeremiah (28:7,9): "Hear, now, this word... As for the prophet who prophesies for peace, when the word of the prophet shall come to pass, it will be known that God has truly sent this prophet."

In the Oxford manuscript (fol. 46a) the final quote from Jeremiah verse 9 is shortened and the only words quoted are ‘Hear, now, this word’ followed by the words ‘and etc.’

While it is unlikely that there is any change in meaning due to the shortened quote, it is a significant amount of words that are added in all the other printed editions of Maimonides, when the Oxford manuscript has the verse 9 omitted all together. It’s not clear when the entire relevant section of the verse would have been added to source the difference between a positive and negative policy and what the reason for the omission would have been other than for convenience not to have to write in the manuscript more words that necessary.

Are minors exempt from the study of Torah?

In the Mishneh Torah, laws of Talmud Torah (1:1), Maimonides writes, ‘Women, slaves, and minors are free from the obligation of Torah study. Nevertheless, a father is obligated to teach his son Torah while he is a minor, as Deuteronomy (11:19) states: "And you shall teach them to your sons to speak about them."

Maimonides then continues (1:6), ‘At what age is a father obligated to teach his son Torah? When he begins to speak, he should teach him Torah tzivah lanu Moshe (Deuteronomy 33:4) and Shema Yisrael (ibid. 6:4).’

In the Oxford manuscript there are two changes from the above text. Firstly, the Oxford manuscript (fol. 57a) omits the word ‘minors’ as being one of the three categories who are free from the obligation of Torah study.

Another minor and seemingly less significant variation is the additional descriptive words ‘and the first verse of the portion of’ Shema (the prayer from Deuteronomy declaring the unity of G-d), instead of just ‘And Shema Yisrael’ when mentioning the verse that one should teach one’s child as soon he is able to speak.

We will examine primarily the justification of the first variation and then try and give consistency to the second variation also. The principle question that appears to be of great significance is, is a minor free from the obligation of Torah study according to the Oxford manuscript copy of Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah?

In the commentary Migdal Oz, 14th century Spanish Rabbi Shem Tov ben Abraham ibn Ga’on, who was one of the first scholars to systematically identify the sources for Maimonides’ rulings in the Mishneh Torah, in addition to defending the Mishneh Torah from attacks by critics, especially by Rabbi Abraham ben David, known as the Ra’vad, also omits the category of minor in relation to being free from the obligation of Torah study.

The reason for this omission seems to be, not because minors are in fact obligated to study Torah, but the opposite. It is unnecessary to state that they are not obligated, since minors are not obligated to perform any of the commandments. It would therefore be superfluous to state the obvious that they are not obligated to study Torah, which demands intellectual maturity.

According to the reasoning of the Oxford manuscript, the text concerning a minor and Torah study can really then be read as if it states the following rationale, that ‘even though minors are free from the obligation of all the commandments, nevertheless, a father is obligated to teach his son Torah while he is a minor’.

This in fact stated in the laws of Torah study by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, published in 1799, where he rewords the text of Maimonides and seems to in fact follow the Oxford edition. Furthermore, he doesn’t just follow the Oxford edition regarding the first variation, the omission of the word minor concerning being free from the obligation of Torah study, but also the second minor variation, the addition of the words ‘and the first verse from the portion of the Shema’.

Rabbi Schneur Zalman writes in laws of Torah study (1:1), ‘Even though a minor is exempt from all the Divine commandments and also a father is not obligated to educate a child Biblically (Talmud Nazir 29) but rather Rabbinically, nevertheless there is a Biblical positive commandment for a father to teach one’s son Torah (Talmud Kiddushin 29), even though the minor is not obligated himself (Maimonides Mishneh Torah laws of Talmud Torah 1:1), as it states, And you shall teach your children to speak in them.’

He then continues, ‘From when is a father obligated to teach his son Torah? From the time a child is able to speak (Talmud Sukkah 42), his father shall teach him the verse Torah Tzivah Moshe, etc. and the first verse of the portion Shema Yisrael’.

It seems obvious from Rabbi Schneur Zalman’s text, by the opening ‘even though a minor is exempt from all the Divine commandments’ and the end of the text ‘and the first verse of the portion Shema Yisrael’ that he may have had access or knowledge of the Oxford manuscript or followed the view of the Migdal Oz that endorses the Oxford version.

Dominus Illuminatio Mea: An Oxford attempt to reconcile science and religion in the 16th century

Thu, 15 Sep 2011 2:27:00 PM

Dominus Illuminatio Mea: An Oxford attempt to reconcile science and religion in the 16th century

Dominus illuminatio mea is the motto of the University of Oxford, the oldest university in the English-speaking world, founded around 1167, and is from the opening words of Psalm 27 ‘The Lord is my light’. It has been in use at least since the second half of the 16th century, the time of the great revival of interest in the Hebrew Bible in Oxford, and it appears on the University's arms.

Oxford is not the only university to use the Psalms for its motto. Trinity Western University uses "A Mighty Fortress Is Our G-d" or in Latin Turris Fortis Deus Noster, which is the best known of Martin Luther's hymns. Luther was paraphrasing Psalm (46:8 8), ‘The Lord of Hosts is with us; the G-d of Jacob is our fortress forever’.

The motto of University of Calgary, as well as University of North Carolina, is from Psalms (121:2) ‘I will lift up my eyes’ or in Latin Mo Shùile Togam Suas. Columbia University uses In lumine tuo videbimus lumen in Latin, which means "In Thy light we see light" (Psalm 36:9).

University of Aberdeen’s motto is Initium sapientiæ timor domini, which means ‘The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom’ (Psalms 111:10). Brown University uses In deo speramus, which means ‘In G-d we hope’. This comes from Psalms (27:14) ‘Hope for the Lord, be strong and He will give your heart courage, and hope for the Lord.’ This incidentally also seems to be the origin of ‘In G-d we trust’ on American coins.

There are also two universities that use verses from the Pentateuch. University of Washington uses Fiat Lux in Latin, which means ‘Let there be light’ (Genesis 1:3) and University of Kansas Videbo visionem hanc magnam quare non comburatur rubus, which means ‘I will see this great sight, how the bush does not burn’ (Exodus 3:3).

Most universities however don’t use words from the Bible as their motto. Chicago University’s motto for example is Crescat scientia, vita excolatur, which means ‘Let knowledge grow from more to more, and so be human life enriched’. Harvard, the oldest institution of higher education in the United states, established in 1636 uses since 1836 a shield with the Latin motto “Veritas” (“Verity” or “Truth”) on three books.

As Oxford, the oldest of the above universities, chooses a verse from the Hebrew Bible in the book of Psalms, it is interesting to understand the meaning of this verse and its definition according to Jewish interpretation.

Ivan Illich interpretation

An article by Ivan Illich (1926-2002), born in Vienna to a Croatian father and Sephardic Jewish mother and later became a Roman Catholic priest, attempts to explain this motto. He writes, "The relationship of things to G-d "who is light" must be understood. The thirteenth century is suffused by the idea that the world rests in G-d's hands, that it is contingent on Him. This means that at every instant everything derives its existence from His continued creative act. Things radiate by virtue of their constant dependence on this creative act. They are alight by the G-d-derived luminescence of their truth."

This is a profound mystical interpretation but does not completely explain the meaning of ‘The Lord is my light’. These words don’t appear to be referring to the light that continues to bring the world into existence but rather the light of G-d that illuminates the soul on a personal rather than a cosmic level.

‘The Lord is my light’ in Jewish thought

We will therefore attempt to give a thorough explanation of ‘The Lord is my light’ found in Jewish thought.

It’s however only possible to offer a definition by prefacing it with a comparative Biblical verse. In Michah (7:8) it says ‘Although I will sit in darkness, the Lord is a light to me’. In Numbers (6:25) it states, ‘May the Lord cause His countenance to shine to you and favor you.’

The most relevant verse for our study is however further in Psalms (18:29), ‘For You light my lamp; the Lord, my G-d, does light my darkness.’

In this verse King David seems to be explaining the idea of G-d illuminating the soul of the person through an analogy of kindling a physical lamp.

The analogy of a lamp

This analogy by King David is a profound idea that becomes a central theme throughout the works of the Prophets and later works to understand the relationship between the person and G-d.

In this essay we will first explain how this idea is presented in the work of Rabbi Dov Ber Schneersohn (1773 – 1827), then how this seems to be sourced in the work of his father Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812), who in turn is quoting a teaching of the Jewish mystical work of the Zohar, and we will then explore how this idea is actually rooted in the works of the Prophets through one of the most famous symbols of Judaism, the Menorah.

In his work Gates of Radiance, Rabbi Dov Ber dissects in detail the idea of light spoken about in the verse in Psalms (18) ‘For You light my lamp; the Lord, my G-d, does light my darkness’ and elaborates on this idea through an analysis of the analogy of the lamp.

In a lamp there are, in general, four components. The first is the wick, which illuminates because of the flame that burns from it. Then there is the flame itself that burns from the wick, which includes two levels, expressed in two colors of the light. One is the dark color which is close to the wick, and is called "dark radiance," which burns and gradually consumes the wick; the other, higher up, is the white flame, which is called "the light which illuminates" and also the "bright radiance." The fourth aspect of the lamp is the oil which flows into the wick and is absorbed in it. Without the oil, the flame would not burn from the wick at all, but would leap away and be extinguished.

The two aspects of the flame represent two aspects of the spirituality of the soul, as it sates in Proverbs (20:27) ‘The soul of man is the lamp of G-d’. The bright radiance is the Divine Soul expressing its most sublime sacred attainment, as in its total surrender to the Essence of the Divine when contemplating the Oneness of G-d. The dark radiance, which consumes the wick, on the other hand, expresses the enthusiasm of the Divine Soul as it is vested in the Animal Soul. Here there is a sense of struggle and the transformation of negative emotions. This is expressed by the way the dark flame interacts with and eats away at the wick.

In this analogy, the total surrender of the self to the Essence of the Divine when contemplating the Oneness of G-d and the transformation of negative emotions represent the flow of oil that enables the Divine light to radiate onto the soul Another aspect of the oil is the performance of good deeds, Mitzvot.

Accordingly, we can understand the verse in Psalms (18), ‘For You light my lamp; the Lord, my God, does light my darkness.’ This refers to the Essence of the Divine that illuminates the soul of the person through oil, which is the performance of good deeds or self abnegation and surrender to the Divine.

The Lord is my light

In an encyclopedic work on the mystical interpretations to the Psalms, Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Lubavitch (1789-1866), known as the Tzemach Tzedek, after his Jewish legal work, juxtaposes the interpretation of Psalms (18) ‘For You light my lamp’ to Psalms (27) ‘The Lord is my light’.

The Oxford motto ‘The Lord is my light’ then is a reflection on the relationship between G-d and the body and soul. The person provides oil through good deeds and ‘The Lord is my light’ is then the illumination of the Divine light that kindles the soul, as a fire that catches on to the wick when oil is attached to it.

Origins found in the Zohar

This analogy of a candle and wick that require oil is found in an earlier work by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi in the Tanya (Ch. 35), where he quotes a teaching of the Kabbalistic work of the Zohar (Balak), based on the verse in Ecclesiastes (2:14): “The wise man’s eyes are in his head.”

The Zohar poses the question: Where else are a man’s eyes? Surely, then, the meaning of the verse is that the Divine Presence, called the Shechinah, rests above the head of a person. Therefore, every wise man has his eyes i.e., his interest and concern and hence also his speech concentrated “in his head,” i.e., in that light of the Shechinah which rests and abides above his head.

The Zohar continues that the person must be aware that this light kindled above his head i.e., the light that shines upon his soul, requires oil. For man’s body is the wick that retains the luminous flame and the light is kindled above it; and thus King Solomon cried out, saying (Ecclesiastes 9:8), “Let not oil be lacking above your head.” This verse means to say that the light over his head requires oil, meaning the good deeds that man performs are the oil which supplies the light illuminating his soul, and for this reason “The wise man’s eyes are (should be) in his head.” - to ensure that he never lacks oil - good deeds - for this light.

The quotation from the Zohar - with a loose translation edited by the author - ends here.

In the work of the Tanya, Rabbi Schneur Zalman proceeds to elaborate on this teaching of the Zohar. He writes, the meaning of this analogy comparing the light of the Shechinah to the light of a candle is clear to every intelligent person that just as it is true of the candle’s flame that it does not shed light nor is it retained by the wick, without oil, similarly, the Shechinah does not rest upon man’s body, which is compared to a wick, except through man’s performing good deeds.

The body can only act as a wick, not as oil, as it is a coarse physical being which will not be absorbed within the light of the Shechinah, but will always remain separate from it. The good deeds that man performs however provide the oil.

It is evident from the Zohar, however, that one’s soul, although a part of G‑d above, is insufficient to serve as oil for the wick by itself. The reason for this is since man’s soul is not, after all, completely nullified before G‑d and one with Him to the extent that it is capable of becoming absorbed within the G‑dly light. This is true even of the soul of the righteous, who serve G‑d with the loftiest forms of love and fear. Indeed, it is the soul’s very love of G‑d that emphasizes its separateness; for love entails two separate entities, the lover and the beloved. Similarly with fear: there is one who fears, and another who is feared.

Only good deeds, mitzvot, which are completely one with G‑d’s will, can serve as the oil which is absorbed within the flame of the light of the Shechinah that is kindled over man.

Elisha & the story of the oil

This analogy is further found in the earlier works of the Prophets in the Book of Kings in an enigmatic story pertaining to oil.

In the Book of Kings (2 4), it relates: “Now a woman, of the wives of the disciples of the prophets, cried out to Elisha, saying, ‘Your servant, my husband, has died, and you know that your servant did fear the Lord; and the creditor has come to take my two children for himself as slaves.’ And Elisha said to her, ‘What shall I do for you? Tell me what you have in the house.’ And she said, ‘Your maidservant has nothing at all in the house except a jug of oil.’ And he said, ‘Borrow vessels for yourself from outside, from all your neighbors; do not borrow only a few empty vessels. And you shall come and close the door about yourself and about your sons, and you shall pour upon all these vessels; and the full one you shall carry away.’

And she went away from him and closed the door about herself and about her sons; they were bringing vessels to her and she was pouring. And it was when the vessels were full, that she said to her son, ‘Bring me another vessel,’ and he said to her, "There is no other vessel.’ And the oil stopped. And she came and told the man of God: and he said, ‘Go sell the oil and pay your debt; and you and your sons will live with the remainder.’”

In the Jewish philosophical and mystical work Maamarei Admur Hazaken Haktzarim (p.137) by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, it explains the story with an interesting euphemistic allegorical interpretation.

He explains that the woman in this story refers to the soul and Elisha refers to G-d. The soul cries to G-d that the flame – love of G-d - of the soul, (indicated in the Hebrew word for husband, ish, which is similar to the Hebrew word aish, meaning fire) has been extinguished and the creditor, the animalistic soul, has taken her two offspring, meaning one’s love and fear for G-d, for material desires instead of for G-d.

Elisha then asks her, what her soul has remaining that is not been corrupted by the animal soul. She responds that she has just a single jar of oil. This refers to the essence of the soul that remains dedicated to G-d to the degree of self sacrifice.

G-d tells the soul to borrow vessels for the oil, which means to engage in the study of Torah and good deeds, which will serve as vessels to contain the light of G-d, even though they will be void of a love of G-d. The good deeds will be able to serve as the wick for the fire, the Divine light, to be kindled on the soul.

The Menorah symbol

A similar analogy in the book of Zachariah (4:1) attempts to take this a step further. It states, “And the angel who spoke with me returned, and he awakened me as a man who wakes up from his sleep. And he said to me, "What do you see?" And I said, "I saw, and behold there was a candelabrum all of gold, with its oil-bowl on top of it, and its seven lamps thereon; seven tubes each to the lamps that were on top of it. And there were two olive trees near it; one on the right of the bowl, and one on its left.”

Rabbi Dov Ber elaborates the interpretation of this dream in his Gates of Radiance in an essay entitled ‘With you is the source of life’ (p. 53). The Prophet Zachariah is referring to a time of exile of the Jewish people where there might not be any light on the candelabrum; there are not sufficient good deeds or study of Torah that can serve as oil to kindle the soul with Divine light. In such a case, the oil is fed from above arousing the person even against their will to return to good deeds and an awareness of G-d.

This is illustrated in the idea of the oil-bowl standing above the candelabrum and being fed oil from the two olive trees to its right and left, channeling the oil into the lamps.

This idea that it is possible that the person might not have any oil of his or her own is also indicated in the verse that was discussed earlier, ‘For You light my lamp; the Lord, my God, does light my darkness.’The end of the verse pertaining to darkness refers to the possibility that a person does not have any oil to ignite the Divine flame due to being in a state of total moral confusion where good has been consumed by negativity. It is pertaining to this that it states, ‘G-d does light my darkness”.

However, the first half of the verse using the analogy ‘For You light my lamp’ refers to the light of the Divine that kindles the soul conditional on some provision of oil that the person provides through good deeds or self-abnegation and humility. It appears that it is this definition that the Oxford motto ‘The Lord is my light’ is referring to.

Menorah as a Jewish symbol

This extensive analogy found in the Torah, from Psalms to Book of Kings to Zechariah, seems to give rise to the symbol of the Menorah as a primary Jewish symbol. It is reflecting on the relationship between the individual soul and G-d and thus also the Jewish people as a whole and G-d as taught by the Prophets to Israel. They should regard their life and soul as a candelabrum that needs the provision of oil through good deeds in order to be kindled.

Wisdom is light: a theory for the Oxford motto in 16th century

To conclude, why would Oxford have chosen the motto ‘The Lord is my light’ in the 16th century? What is it about the symbolic meaning of light in the Biblical context that links it to an institution of learning?

In the Zohar (Genesis, 30b), wisdom is also called light. The similarity between wisdom and light is the fact that wisdom illuminates an idea that previously was not understood. However, wisdom in the Biblical sense is the perceptive seeing not of ideas in general but of the Divine.

In the Gates of Radiance (p.40) it explains various levels of such wisdom that allow for fear of G-d, from fear of doing evil to transcendent awe of G-d. This correlation between wisdom and awe of G-d is found in numerous places in Jewish teaching, as in Job (28:28) ‘Fear of G-d is wisdom’. Similarly in Psalms (111:10), ‘Beginning of wisdom is fear of G-d’ and in Ethics of the Fathers (3:17): ‘If there is no wisdom there is no fear and if there is no fear there is no wisdom.’ In the view of Judaism, wisdom is identified with and needs to be predicated on an awe of G-d.

In the analogy of the oil and the light, then, the oil is wisdom, which means fear of G-d, and is expressed in good deeds that kindle the soul with the Divine light.

Science & religion are not incompatible

In this sense, the idea behind the motto in 16th century Oxford might have been the desire to address the nature of the pursuit of knowledge, especially at a time when academia might have been shifting away from theology to the sciences. In this struggle, it would have been important to use the motto of this age old institution to anchor the idea that ultimately pursuit of wisdom must be predicated on knowledge of G-d, rather than the pursuit of wisdom for its own sake.

This would have been particularly relevant in the 16th century when long held principles were changing. This can be seen with the world changing claim of Copernicus regarding the heliocentric model of the universe in 1543, as well as other advances in the sciences like Vesalius’ pioneering research into human anatomy, early research in Europe into pulmonary circulation, detailed astronomical observations and William Gilbert’s research into the earth’s magnetic field.

Interestingly, this debate regarding the purpose of education and the need for the compatibility between the pursuit of knowledge of the sciences and the knowledge of G-d is as relevant today as it was in the 16th century, when this motto was introduced.

A Jewish view on the British riots: who’s to blame?

Wed, 10 Aug 2011 7:18:00 PM

A Jewish view on the British riots: who’s to blame?

A proposal for effective engagement with Britain’s disenfranchised youth

We have witnessed rioting in London and across the UK over the last few days on a level that those who grew up in London have never witnessed before. Wide spread looting, thieving, vandalising in broad day light with people watching is something that is just astonishing and shocking. It seemed to most English people that society had fallen apart and replaced by raw savagery of gangs and mobs.

The debate that immediately followed in the intellectual society of liberal Britain, even while the riots were still going on, was over whether this behaviour can be justified. Is it sheer criminality or is it social unrest due to deprivation of jobs and lack of any hope for the future amongst a neglected disenfranchised social underclass of Britain?

The Prime Minister of Great Britain David Cameron returned from his holiday and immediately called it ‘criminality, pure and simple’ and said that those involved deserved the full weight of the law. This was echoed by other government members, like Theresa May, the Home Secretary.

Some in the opposition party, Labour, have been suggesting the cause of the violence is due to the state of the economy, the austerity measures and neglect of the social underclass.

It is interesting that this debate has played itself out in numerous contexts in recent history. The fundamental question is: can you blame the victim for social unrest or does one only blame the criminal?

After the attacks on the World Trade Centre in NY of 9/11, American linguist and philosopher Professor Noam Chomsky wrote a book stating that American foreign policy was ultimately to blame for provoking 9/11. The same argument on a wider scale was made when Israel was hit by suicide bombings. British and other politicians declared that only utterly hopeless youth with no future horizon can reach such despair and blow themselves up as weapons killing as many innocent civilians as possible.

One well known politician who had this point of view was former Mayor of London Ken Livingstone. This was despite the fact that when his own city of London was attacked on 7/7 with the same methods, he became unbelievably inconsistent. He argued that while the reason for suicide attacks in Israel is due to despair, in London it is just outright evil. Interestingly, he further contradicted himself on the BBC regarding the recent riots in London when he first and foremost justified the acts as being caused by social neglect.

Clarity on issues of criminology such as theft and violence is an absolute necessity in a healthy society. A set of basic morals, known in Jewish teaching as Noahide laws, which includes categorically ‘do not steal’ and 'do not murder', would help with clarity in this regard. Moral relativism, a phenomenon that is too often seen as an ideal in the modern education system of the West, cannot possibly be a foundation to a stable society. Can theft ever be justified?

In Jewish teaching there is a difference between a thief and a looter in broad daylight. One is called a gazlan and the other a ganav. In a modern era a thief can be considered someone who steals from someone in stealth without them knowing. This is a ganav in Hebrew. This could include theft in business, when the buyer or investor doesn’t know he is being stolen from. A recent example is the Madoff scandal, when people were scammed without their knowledge. This is certainly an evil.

Another evil however is mugging or looting in broad daylight in full view of the victim and the public with no shame. One who perpetrates this is called a gazlan.

Whatever evil form of theft we are dealing with, the causes for rioting and looting may be analysed from a Jewish point of view. In fact, the same debate above about the causes for thieving is found also amongst Jewish philosophers, going as far back as to King Solomon in Proverbs.

In Proverbs (30:8-9) it says, ‘Give me neither poverty nor wealth; provide me my allotted bread, lest I become sated and deny, and I say, "Who is the Lord?" And lest I become impoverished and steal, and take hold of the name of my G-d.’

King Solomon thus recognises that the principle cause of theft is poverty.

However, Maimonides on the other hand, sees theft as a result of pure greed. He writes in laws of theft (Ch. 1:11), ‘Desire leads to coveting, and coveting leads to stealing. For if the owner of the coveted object does not wish to sell, even though he is offered a good price and is entreated to accept, the person who covets the object will come to steal it, as it is written (Micha 2:2), ‘They covet fields and then steal them.' And if the owner approaches him with a view to reclaiming his money or preventing the theft, then he will come to murder.’

The practical application of this debate is whether there is a solution. If the cause of theft is neglect and poverty then a solution must be found and this might mitigate the punishment to a certain degree out of sympathy for the offenders. If however the cause is mere greed for other people’s possessions, this is a kind of social illness. In this case society needs a strict deterrent and punishment must be distributed.

Solutions – law and social justice

While the causes of theft are debated within Judaism, as in British society today, and both opinions are not necessarily mutually exclusive, some helpful solutions in Judaism can also be found for social unrest.

The need to help the poor is a fundamental value in Judaism. In fact, charity is one of the foundations of any society, according to Ethics of the Fathers (Ch.1:1). The recent riots certainly prove this point. Without social justice the fabric of society will fall apart.

Similarly a robust justice system is crucial for society. Ethics of the Fathers (3:2) states without fear of government or a strong justice system people would devour one another alive. These teachings ring as true today in 21st century as they did in 3rd century when these teachings were taught – the riots a case in point.

In Jewish law, there are two elements to deterrence through justice, one post theft and another prior to the crime. The punishment after the crime in Jewish law, although there is no imprisonment, is that the thief needs to pay a fine, usually double the value of the stolen item. If the thief is unable to pay, then they must perform community service.

In addition, the law can empower home and shop owners to protect their livelihood from thieves in self defense. Society may want to evaluate whether deterrence prior to the crime is necessary, as reflected in the book of Leviticus ‘If a thief is found breaking in and is struck so that he dies, there shall be no bloodguilt for him (the killer).’ This is the concept of self defense, though this may not be necessary in British society where gun crime is still minimal compared to other countries.

It could be argued that this two pronged tough approach to theft makes sense according to the theory of greed and sheer criminality as the cause for theft, rather than desperation due to poverty.

Big Society approach

The problem of poverty as a possible cause of theft must however also be addressed, whether or not it is applicable in this particular case of the riots. There is an urgent need for social responsibility towards the underprivileged classes of Britain and other societies that have similar problems. Judaism is not an insular religion; it cares for society as a whole.

A report in May in the Financial Times, outlined one of the root causes for unemployment in the UK, albeit one of the lowest in Europe. It said that the UK has one of the largest shares of young people amongst countries affiliated with the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) not in education, employment or training - the so-called NEETs. This lack of knowledge or skill is a root cause for unemployment.

Who is responsible for this phenomenon? In Jewish teaching there is an emphasis on the role of parents in this regard. In the words of the Talmud (Kiddushin 29), there are certain obligatory responsibilities that a parent must provide for a child in order to be considered a responsible parent. Among these are teaching a child a trade by which the child can eventually earn an income.

Interestingly, the Jewish view is compatible with the aims of the current UK government for the creation of a kind of ‘big society’. It is not sufficient to blame the government for unemployment but parents must rise to the challenge of ensuring that their children don’t grow up without knowledge of a trade. Some of the greatest Jewish sages were simple craftsmen by which they supported their family, in addition to their study, as indicated by the name of a sage of the Talmud, Rabbi Yochanan the Sandal-Maker (Ethics of the Fathers 4:11).

Community engagement amongst students

A broader and more elementary approach of engagement however must also be considered. In particular, students who are privileged to go to university should think about the sections of society who are not so privileged. There needs to be an engagement between peers from different segments of societies to ensure that sections of society are not worlds apart resulting in neglect, while one segment excels and the other is left behind to struggle.

If students, while they are 18 to 21 years old, are encouraged to reach out to their underprivileged peers through focused discussion groups and stimulating programming, this interaction and care will hopefully continue when they leave university.

Engagement itself would be a start towards the cure. In the words of Jewish teaching, if you are distressed or feel dejected at heart, talk it over. This should begin by different sections of society starting to speak to each other. It can go a long way to cure the ills of society that we have may just have seen boil over.

Channelling energy constructively

An interesting homiletic question arises in Jewish thought about positive lessons that one can derive from a common thief. The Talmud (Berachot 63a) states that a thief displays characteristics that can be very useful in other areas of life if developed positively. One example is the fact that a thief must have considerable belief in what he or she does in order to succeed.

In fact, 18th century Chassidic Rabbi Meshulam Zusia of Anipol in the Ukraine stated (Hayom Yom 3 Iyar) that there are seven things one can learn from a thief, if harnessed positively: humility, self sacrifice, care for detail, hard work, efficiency, hope and resilience.

Perhaps this attitude can be helpful in seeing the class of society that we call underprivileged as a potential source of talent. We could throw into the debating pot a challenge to the government to use some creative thinking around how to channel these talents constructively rather than destructively.

As with all moral crises that occur in society, the display of unity that came to the fore with the ‘clean up London’ campaign by ordinary hard working people who respect the law was very encouraging. This same unity should come together to clean up the social problems of society through some of the above practical proposals of engagement and help make this world a more stable, moral and peaceful place to live in.

‘What is Jewish Identity? An Oxford Debate’

Mon, 8 Aug 2011 6:27:00 AM

‘What is Jewish Identity? An Oxford Debate’

A question that has been debated recently amongst Jewish intellectuals in Oxford and indeed for many centuries is what constitutes Jewish identity. This question is more potent today when there are additional factors and definitions in the Jewish lexicon relating to the modern Jewish experience, with the return of Jews after 2,000 years to Israel, and to complicate matters further, this is accompanied by an unprecedented level of assimilation amongst Jews worldwide. Combined, it makes it difficult to find a single definition that satisfies scholars on the question of Jewish identity.

This essay will try and shed some light on this question that has been debated in the halls of the Oxford University Chabad Society over the last couple of years by various esteemed scholars in various contexts.

Taylor Emeritus Professor of German Language and Literature at the University of Oxford, Professor Siegbert Salomon Prawer, author of A Cultural Citizen of the World: Sigmund Freud's Knowledge and Use of British and American Writings (Oxford: Legenda 2009) claimed in a lecture that Jewish identity according to Freud is related to the unconscious and cannot be explained. It expresses itself in many ways, for example, to be inquisitive, humorous, and so on, but it is something quintessential and unexplainable.

Israeli novelist, essayist, and playwright, Professor Abraham B. Yehoshua, on the other hand, argued that Jewish identity is empty and has content only when one resides in a country with other Jewish people and tradition, like Israel.

This view was echoed by Sir Nicholas Winton, who rescued 669 Czech Jewish children to England on the eve of the Holocaust, when he visited Oxford. He was asked about his Jewish identity to which he responded that it only has relevance to him when he visits Israel. He seemed to agree that being surrounded by Jews in a Jewish state that follows to a large degree a Jewish calendar and other elements of Jewish tradition constitutes a Jewish identity.

In contrast, Jewish philosopher and social critic, Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, editor of the landmark Steinsaltz Talmud, who is considered one of the greatest Jewish minds living today, argued the complete opposite in a public lecture at Oxford in honour of 100 years since the birth of Sir Isaiah Berlin. Rabbi Steinsaltz claimed that the identity of Israel is essentially pagan as it follows a Western style of living and culturally belongs to the sphere of influence of the West, as do many other countries. Since Israel fundamentally follows a western moral value system, it is not strictly a Jewish country, as Western values are at odds with a Jewish value system.

Another view on the subject of Jewish identity is articulated by Rabbi Menachem M. Schneersohn, known as the Rebbe. Rabbi Schneersohn explained in a conversation that subsequently became public that Jewish identity is a combination of peoplehood and belief.

Which one of these is correct? Is it possible to be Jewish when one is not nationally Jewish? On the other hand is it possible to be Jewish without the content of Jewish belief?

We will try and reconcile these opposing views. It is possible to say that while Steinsaltz, Yehoshua and Winton are speaking on the conscious level, Prawer is speaking on the unconscious level. They do not have to be contradictory. A person may have an unconscious Jewish identity that the mystics will call a ‘spark of the Divine’ or the yechidah, while on the conscious level the content might be Western. This will however have no real effect on the person’s essential or unconscious Jewish identity. Steinsaltz, Yehoshua and Winton will not necessarily argue with this point.

Indeed, Steinsaltz and Yehoshua will argue between themselves about the nature of the content itself in Israel, however this debate is outside the remit of this essay.

This dual identity, the conscious and unconscious, one can argue, is alluded to by the statement of Rabbi Schneersohn. Peoplehood is something which is essential on the level of the unconscious, whereas belief is the content of one’s identity on the conscious level. Rabbi Schneersohn is arguing then that Jewish identity needs to be manifest on both levels of consciousness, the conscious as well as the unconscious.

Zion as the unconscious Jewish identity

We will attempt to explain this idea of conscious and unconscious Jewish identity through an interesting discussion about a Biblical Hebrew word that is familiar to many but can also be understood - like many aspects of Jewish thought - on a deeper level. The name Zion appears no less than 108 times in the Hebrew Bible and many times in the daily Jewish prayer book. Clearly, in the scripture it is meant to be a geographical place, referring to the holy city of Jerusalem, which dates back to the times of King David who bought it from the Jebusites (Samuel II 24:24).

This name is mentioned in Psalms in numerous places and throughout the Hebrew Scriptures. In Psalms (137:1) it writes, "By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion." It says in Isaiah (2:3), ‘And many peoples shall go, and they shall say, "Come, let us go up to the Lord's mount, to the house of the G-d of Jacob, and let Him teach us of His ways, and we will go in His paths," for out of Zion shall the Torah come forth, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.’ Clearly, Zion refers to Jerusalem.

Similarly, in Psalms (87:2) it says, “The Lord loves the gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob.” In Psalms (87:5), ‘And to Zion it will be said, "Man after man was born in her,’ and He will establish it on high. Zechariah (2:14) says, ‘Sing and rejoice, O daughter of Zion, for, behold! I will come and dwell in your midst, says the Lord.’ Elsewhere in Psalms (146:10), it writes, ‘The Lord will reign forever! Your G-d, O Zion, to all generations. Hallelujah!’

What does this scripturally ubiquitous word actually mean? These geographical references seem to give no insight into the meaning of the word itself.

Zion as a symbol within the soul of something higher

The Jewish people have numerous names in the Bible, including Jacob, Israel, Judah and others. These names all have figurative meaning relating to a spiritual state of existence. Jacob refers to one’s spiritual struggles (Genesis 32:22-32), Israel refers to overcoming one’s spiritual struggles and challenges and Judah means submission or acknowledgement of G-d – pure faith. Another name for the Jewish people however is Zion, as quoted earlier; the prophets call the Jews, sometimes daughters of Zion, children of Zion or just Zion. What does Zion allude to, other than Jerusalem?

The classical Jewish work Midrash Rabbah teaches that the soul of a person has five components. Three components, nefesh, ruach and neshamah, reside within the consciousness of the person and two components, chaya and yechidah, remain above in the unconscious and serves as a connection between the conscious faculties of the person and the essence of the Al-mighty.

In Jewish mysticism, it explains that all five levels of the soul are ultimately of a finite nature. The highest level however is called the yechidah, meaning unity, and symbolizes the Infinite. This component of the soul in Jewish thought is called Zion. This is indicated in Ezekiel (39: 15), where it says ‘And when they that pass through shall pass and see a human bone, they shall build a sign – tziyun - next to it until the buriers bury it in the Valley of Hamon Gog.’

Another translation of Zion

The word Zion also has another translation which comes from the Hebrew word Metzuyan, meaning excellence or distinguished. This is mentioned in the Jewish prayers on the festival of Sukkot, “Help us we beseech You, Zion, the distinguished, help us, we beseech You.” The word Zion and distinguished have the same letter structure in the Hebrew tziyon hamtzuyenet.

Both these translations are making the same point, which can be understood in light of the above. They both refer to a spiritual state of the person which is perfect and excellent or distinguished. This excellence is, according to Jewish thought, the Yechidah component of the soul - the spiritual unconscious that is unaffected by the spiritual struggles of life and remains perfect.

Indeed, the references to Zion refer to the Jewish people that might be in exile, but whose Jewish identity at the unconscious level remains intact.

It is for this reason they are referred to as Zion. It is as if to say that despite the struggles pertaining to the content of the Jewish experience, the Zion or yechidah cannot be taken captive by these negative struggles and encounters.

In Likutei Torah (Devorim), Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi sums up this analysis with the verse in Isaiah (1:27), ‘Zion shall be redeemed through justice and its captives returned through righteousness.’ He explains the difference between Zion and the captives of Zion. Why doesn’t the verse simply say Zion shall be redeemed and returned through justice and righteousness? Rabbi Schneur Zalman explains that it refers to the two levels of spiritual consciousness. Zion is a level of the soul that cannot be affected by corporeality or be taken captive by it. It always remains holy and spiritually intact.

This then is the deeper level of Jewish identity that is unexplainable and beyond rationale. Despite Freud’s ambiguous views of religion, he might have been on to something regarding the point of Jewish identity being connected to the unconscious, even though he would not have been aware of this discussion.

The King James Bible and the Kabbalah

Thu, 4 Aug 2011 1:05:00 PM

The King James Bible and the Kabbalah

This essay will explore whether Kabbalistic ideas found in the classical work of the Midrash referenced to in the contemporary Jewish English translations of the Torah can also be found in the King James Bible of the seventeenth century. We will argue that according to the traditional Jewish translations, there are two Biblical verses that can be perceived as pertaining to Kabbalistic ideas, whereas in the King James Bible (KJB) both translations seem to elude this deeper interpretation from the Midrash, whether knowingly or inadvertently. This is despite the fact that it helps to a certain degree with the literal reading of the Biblical text.

Although we are discussing principally a Midrashic homiletic teaching, this question is also of interest, as it might give us insight into the extent of the appreciation of ideas found in the Kabbalah in 16th century and 17th century in Western Europe during the times of Tyndale’s translation and the KJB. It is true that the 16th and 17th century was a golden era for the Kabbalah, which included the great Kabbalists Rabbi Isaac Luria (1534-1572), Rabbi Moshe Kordovero (Ramak) (1522-1570) and Rabbi Chayim Vital (1543-1620), a foremost exponent of Lurianic Kabbalah, who recorded much of his master's teachings. Nevertheless this does not mean the teachings stretched to Western Europe and certainly not England, as can be possibly deduced from this essay.

In the well known opening of Genesis (2:4-5) it states, ‘And G-d saw the light that it was good, and G-d separated between the light and between the darkness. And G-d called the light day, and the darkness He called night, and it was evening and it was morning, one day.’

The final disjointed words ‘one day’ after the words ‘it was evening and it was morning’ are the literal translation of the Hebrew ‘Yom Echad’.

The King James Bible however writes, ‘And G-d called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.’ The King James substitutes the literal word Echad ‘one’ for Rishon ‘first’.

The question is: why does the Torah write ‘one’ and not ‘first’, as it does with the rest of the days, second, third, etc?

There are two approaches to answering this question, one grammatical and one interpretive. Leading medieval Jewish scholar, Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, known as Nachmanides (1194-1270), explains that ‘one’ in our case means essentially ‘first’. The reason why it writes ‘one’ is simply due to the fact that second and third days of creation had not yet transpired - one would therefore not write in the Hebrew ‘first’ but rather ‘one’.

Ibn Ezra (1089 - 1164) takes a slightly different approach and adds the word ‘shel’ meaning ‘of’ or ‘constituting’ before the words ‘one day’. The verse is simply saying that evening and morning together constitute one day. In the English, then, according to Ibn Ezra, it would be translated as ‘evening and morning was of one day’.

The King James Bible thus seems to follow the translation not of Ibn Ezra in this case but of Nachmanides who seems to support the translation ‘first’ rather than ‘one’ in this context - except for the fact that in the Hebrew one doesn’t write first unless there is already a subsequent second and third.

The question therefore remains on the majority of the Jewish translations: what can this disjointed style of wording - ‘it was evening and it was morning, one day’ - allude to?

The classical rabbinical work of Midrash Rabbah offers the following interpretation, which is also quoted by the Biblical commentator Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, known as Rashi (1040 - 1105). Rashi writes, ‘For the language of this portion to be consistent it should have said "the first day," as is written concerning the other days, "second, third, fourth." Why, then, is it written here "one"? This is because on this day G-d was alone in His world for the angels were not created until the second day. This is the explanation in Bereishis Rabbah.’ It is as if it would have said ‘day of the One’ or ‘day of G-d’s Oneness’.

It seems obvious that the Jewish translation above has this Midrashic reading in mind when it left the literal word ‘one’, rather than first, in the translation and also left the language disjointed, as in the Hebrew itself. This Midrashic interpretation deals with these two problems. Firstly, the literal meaning of the word ‘one’ refers to G-d, rather than the day, and therefore could not have said ‘first’. Secondly, it explains the disjointedness of the words, since ‘one day’ is not attached to the preceding words about the evening and the morning, but is about the existence of G-d on the first day of creation, namely that He was alone in the universe.

Kabbalah in the Biblical text

What is interesting about the Midrashic interpretation is that according to a contemporary rabbinical work Likkutei Sichot (vol. 25 p. 1) by Rabbi Menachem M. Schneersohn, it openly points to a Kabbalistic concept about the unity of G-d. The Biblical word ‘one’ in our case is termed as ‘alone’ in the Midrash. This alludes to the Kabbalistic concept of the absolute Unity of G-d, indicating that on the first day of creation G-d’s absolute unity was manifest, since existence had not yet become an independent entity.

According to the Kabbalah the world is brought into existence on the first day of creation from nothingness. This existence of the world however is only a perceived reality but in truth as far as the transcended G-d is concerned there is still the absolute Oneness of G-d. The reason for the perceived reality is due to concealment – Tzimzum - of the transcendent Divine light allowing it to radiate into the world.

However, were there to be a direct emanation of the transcendent all encompassing Divine light, called the will of G-d or the ein sof, our perception of reality would be the reality of G-d’s Oneness, rather than of our existence. The perceived concealment would dissolve and we would only see the Divine life force. According to the Midrash, it is this transcendent light that radiated on the first day allowing for the unity of G-d to be manifest in existence.

This profound concept of the manifestation of G-d's transcendent existence on the first day of Creation (based on the above understanding of the Midrash) is not to be found in the King James translation ‘And the evening and the morning were the first day.’

This may explain why all the traditional Jewish translations of the Torah, including Hertz, Cohen, Samson Raphael Hirsh, Artscroll, Sharfman’s linear, JPS’ interlinear, Kaplan’s Tree of Life, Gutnick and others, apart from the King James Bible and the New English Bible, favour the translation of the word ‘echad’, as ‘one’ rather than ‘first’.

Another distinction between the KJB and the rabbis

A similar distinction between the KJB and the other translations is also in another verse in the same chapter in Genesis. It says in the traditional Jewish translation quoted above (1:4), ‘And G-d saw the light that it was good, and G-d separated between the light and between the darkness.’ This is a literal translation of the Hebrew with the word ‘bein’ meaning ‘in between’ written twice.

The King James Bible however writes ‘And G-d saw the light, that it was good: and G-d divided the light from the darkness.’ Is there any substance to the difference between the two translations - ‘G-d divided the light from darkness’ and ‘G-d separated between the light and between the darkness’?

The verse seems to be reasoning that G-d saw that the light was good and therefore He separated between the light and between the darkness. Interestingly, this is the way the New English Bible puts it: ‘G-d saw that the light was good, so G-d separated the light from the darkness.’

However, it can be read that G-d did not just separate the light from darkness, as the KJB translates, as this would be superfluous - light by definition is separate from darkness. Rather it can be understood to mean that G-d made a separation within the light itself, thus justifying the additional words ‘in between’ the light. This however seems even more perplexing!

The explanation for this can be understood in light of our above Kabbalistic discussion. G-d didn’t just see that the light was a good and fitting creation on the first day but rather He saw there was goodness within the light that was too intensely spiritual for Man to appreciate. He therefore separated it from the more beneficial light that the world was able to benefit from.

This idea is indeed indicated in the commentary of Rashi, ‘G-d saw that it was not fitting that the wicked should have the use of it [light], He, therefore, set it apart for the righteous in the World-to-Come.’ Clearly the light Rashi is referring to is something out of this world and spiritually transcendent, which is only suitable for the righteous in the World-to-Come.

This interpretation, though venturing into the mystical, allows for a more literal reading of the words ‘G-d separated between the light’ and it is alluding to a Divine transcendent light that emanated on the first day that had to be set aside from the more material light from which the world benefit.

It is this same unique, radiant and spiritual Divine light that represents the Oneness of G-d on the first day of creation, which as we explained earlier is the reason for the term ‘one day’ rather than ‘first day’.

We have thus shown the consistency of the mystical being brought into the reading of the Biblical text through the Midrash and embraced by most of the traditional Jewish translations, although, not surprisingly, this seems to be lost in the translation of the King James Bible of the 17th century.

Vegetarianism & Jewish philosophy

Thu, 21 Jul 2011 5:04:00 PM

Vegetarianism & Jewish philosophy

By Rabbi Eli Brackman

Vegetarianism is said to be the fastest growing trend in the developed world. It refers to the voluntary practice of following plant-based diets, with or without the inclusion of dairy products or eggs, and with the exclusion of meat. It can be dated in Europe back to the time of Pythagoras 6th century BCE but was to reemerge somewhat in Europe during the Renaissance and became a more widespread practice in the 19th and 20th centuries.

Does Judaism agree with or acknowledge this ideal of abstaining from eating meat as a way of life? This essay will discuss a Jewish view of vegetarianism, its philosophy and the intriguing compatibility of the age old wisdom of Judaism with modern health research regarding eating meat. While this essay might go counter to this popular modern trend, I will aim to lay out the ethical issues involved from a Jewish point of view.

One can safely say that Judaism is traditionally a meat eating religion. Judaism does not just permit eating meat but has teachings that emphasize the importance of eating meat on special occasions.

A principal work in Judaism that provides attitudes from a Jewish perspective on an issue is the 5th century Babylonian Talmud, in addition to the Torah itself. The Talmud states (Pesachim 109a), Rabbi Yehuda ben Beteira claims that so long as the Temple is standing, there is no happiness without meat. After the destruction of the Temple there is no happiness without wine.

Based on this teaching, Maimonides (laws of Festivals 6:18) writes that the commandment to rejoice on the Jewish festivals is fulfilled by providing for everyone as per their individual nature, as well as to give to the poor and unfortunate. This includes meat and wine, as there is no happiness without meat and no happiness without wine.

Similarly, Maimonides (laws of Chagigah 1:1) states that men and women should bring an extra peace offering on the holiday, called the Chagigah, which means rejoicing. It was called a peace offering because the hosts, not just the priests, shared the eating of the meat of the cooked sacrificial animal in order to rejoice on the festival.

This permission to eat meat is also on a regular day of the week. This is indicated in the matter-of-fact advice from Maimonides (laws of Deot Ch. 4:7) suggesting that if a person wants to eat chicken or meat one should first eat the chicken and then meat. Eggs and chicken, one should first eat eggs. Always eat a lighter food first and then a heavier food.

It can be said that this teaching is merely a matter-of-fact advice but not meant to be an ethical principal.

However, Maimonides goes further and criticizes one who makes an oath to abstain from eating meat. A person should always behave in moderation, he writes (ibid. Ch. 3:1). If a person says that indulgence is a negative characteristic and will therefore stay away from meat, wine and relationships and will only wear sackcloth, it is forbidden and sinful to go in such a path.

What about the Nazarite vow to refrain from wine? Regarding a Nazarite, he explains, one is required to offer a sacrifice at the end of the Nazarite period. The reason is to atone for accepting on one self such material abstentions that the Torah permits. The sages of the Talmud urged that Judaism only desires one to abstain from what the Torah itself prohibits but not go beyond that.

Thus, from a Jewish legal perspective meat is not just permitted but is associated with joy on the festival and can be the fulfillment of a Divine positive commandment.

Some Jewish ethicists, including Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook (1865–1935), who was the first Ashkenazi chief rabbi of the British Mandate for Palestine, maintained that the true deal of Judaism is to abstain from eating meat, even though technically it is permitted. This is based on the fact that the Torah does not sanction eating meat until after the flood. At the beginning of Genesis (1:27) it says, And God said, Behold, I have given you every seed bearing herb, which is upon the surface of the entire earth, and every tree that has seed bearing fruit; it will be yours for food.

After the flood, however, it writes (9:1-4), Every moving thing that lives shall be yours to eat; like the green vegetation, I have given you everything.

Why did G-d first not allow meat and then permits it after the flood? This indicates, some say, an admission to the debased nature of man after the flood to allow him to eat meat. However, when the world will be returned to a loftier state, man will revert to vegetarianism.

Whether or not this is a correct interpretation can be debated but it is not relevant to our discussion, since the main point for us is the fact that since the flood the Torah permits eating meat and, as we have shown, according to the Talmud it even considered a fulfillment of a positive Divine commandment.

If there is an aversion to eating meat, it is hard to conceive why the Torah would advocate eating it in order to rejoice on the festivals.

What about the philosophy of vegetarianism?

Even if we were to admit that the ideal of Judaism is not to indulge in eating meat supported by various stories in the Torah, it does not seem to be due to the reasons given by modern day philosophers.

Professor Peter Singer, who is Professor of Bioethics at Princeton University and Laureate Professor at the Centre for Applied Philosophy at the University of Melbourne, will say that one should not eat meat due to the lack of distinction between the killing of a life of a human and an animal.

In a class I gave on this subject recently, a professor claimed that in her view there is a daily Holocaust going on where millions of live animals are being slaughtered and nobody is concerned.

Indeed, according to evolutionary theorists, life began with plants and fungi which colonised the land and were soon followed by arthropods, including insects, which constitutes over 90% of the animal kingdom. Then came amphibians, like frogs, followed by early amniotes, which include reptiles and birds and then mammals. This progressed further into homo sapiens or humans. According to evolutionary theory, there is no fundamental difference between mammals and humans.

In an interview between Professor Peter Singer and Oxford Professor Richard Dawkins for ‘The Genius of Charles Darwin’ program, Singer refers to human beings as human animals. He says that the fact that we share with them the capacity to suffer makes us the same.

This is the view of British philosopher Jeremy Bentham (1748 – 1832), who asked: What can trace the insuperable line between humans or beings that count morally and beings that don’t? If we supposedly say that it is reason, a horse is more reasonable than a human infant. But why does that matter? It counts not whether they can talk or reason, but that they can suffer.

Singer maintains that the difference between humans and animals might be that humans can see their life in a biographical sense. He doesn’t think there are any animals that can think of those kinds of things. They can’t plan for their future. Therefore one can argue that killing a creature that does not have this biographical sense and anticipation for the future it not as bad as killing a creature that does. However, he says, when it comes to suffering, they both suffer.

The fact that animals suffer has in fact been proven by British primatologist and anthropologist Jane Goodall DBE who showed that chimpanzees feel bereavement for the loss of a loved one.

Another British philosopher Bertrand Russell (1872 – 1970) says that if we take evolutionary theory to its logical conclusion one should not eat oysters or even lettuce, as there should indeed be no fundamental difference between them.

In truth, however, Singer argues, if we define a creature by the capacity to suffer pain, Russell’s argument breaks down, as lettuce does not suffer pain, and most likely oysters don’t feel pain either.

The argument of Dawkins, however, as a non-vegetarian, is interesting. Dawkins seems to differ from Singer and is prepared to draw a line between humans and animals. He says that if one can kill an animal without or with very little pain then it is not morally a problem. He seems to be concerned about the slippery slope theory if one does not draw a line between humans and animals.

It is interesting to note that from an atheistic evolutionary point of view Singer seems to be more consistent than Dawkins. Logically, there should not be a line drawn between humans and animals or at least not a line that is sufficient to justify killing animals for human consumption. Animals are merely earlier forms of humans from an evolutionary point of view. What right do humans then have to kill their relatively recent evolutionary ancestors for food?

From a Jewish philosophical view, it is clear that Judaism makes a categorical distinction between humans and animals. Firstly, in Genesis the creation of animals is recorded in one category and humans in its own category.

Furthermore, it states (1:27), in what is regarded one of the foundations to human rights, And God created man in His image.

Based on this categorical separation, it continues, Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and rule over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the sky and over all the beasts that tread upon the earth.

The profound distinction between human and animals, from a Jewish point of view, even before the Biblical narrative of the flood seems to be clear.

What makes man different?

We have clarified that there is categorical distinction but what in reality is the difference? What does it mean, man is created in the image of G-d? What is it that makes man superior?

According to some commentaries it refers to intellect. Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki comments on the words, G-d created man in our likeness, ‘to understand and comprehend.’

This would however bring us back to Singer’s point that certain animals are more intelligent than children!

Rabbi Sholom Dovber Schneersohn responds to this point in his work Sefer Mamarim of 1911 (p. 113), that the main function of a human being is characterized by his emotions.

What is then the difference between humans and animals? Rabbi Schneersohn explains in this 100 year old work that the advantage of humans is that their emotions are governed by their intellect. This allows for the emotions to become integrated and meaningful, whereas without intellect they are detached.

Granted, this point alone does not make humans fundamentally different. However, both points combined, the fact that in the Jewish view they are existentially in a separate category and their emotions are far less intelligent and integrated, is certainly sufficient for the distinction between them to be made.

Despite the above Jewish philosophical view, Judaism does not sanction causing any degree of unnecessary pain to animals. One must treat animals with care and even feed them before oneself, according to Jewish ethics. Judaism forbids hunting as it causes the animal distress.

It is because of the concern of causing harm to animals that killing of the animal is done, according to Jewish law, in the most humane way possible with the least amount of pain.

Is it healthy?

In today’s society, the health benefits of eating meat are recognised. Studies show that lean red meats including beef, pork and lamb can play an important part in a healthy balanced diet, as they have high nutrient density. In addition, Meat is a major source of protein.

Meat contributes minerals and trace elements to the diet, particularly iron, a vital mineral for red blood cell formation, and zinc, which is important for the healthy functioning of the immune system, growth, wound healing and fertility.

It is also an important source of B vitamins, including B12, which is not found naturally in foods of plant origin. B12 is important for healthy red blood cells, growth and the production of energy.

A major concern about eating meat is the fat content. However, today, fully trimmed lean raw beef typically contains only 5% fat, fully trimmed lean raw pork only 4% fat and fully trimmed lean raw lamb only 8% fat. On the other hand, red meat contains small amounts of omega-3 fats, which help to keep the heart healthy.

The fact that eating meat is recognized as being healthy shows its compatibility with the attitude within Judaism towards meat that, philosophy aside, a moderate amount of meat is healthy.

A considerable danger of meat is in the processing. Bacteria have been the cause of E. Coli and the age of the animals and their state of health has been the cause of mad cow disease.

The process of preparing kosher meat is however vital in killing the bacteria and the intricate laws against eating meat of an animal that has a terminal illness or punctured arteries, lungs or even lesser ailments help prevent sick animals being consumed.

The problem with excess

If there are benefits to eating meat, why do the kosher dietary laws prohibit certain animals that don’t chew their cud or have split hooves?

It would appear that a reason might be to help constrain the person from eating excessive amount of meat. Indeed, according to medieval commentator Rabbi Shlomo Ephraim Luntschitz, author of the Torah commentary Kli Yakar, the complexity of these laws was intended to discourage the excessive consumption of meat.

This is consistent with modern day studies. The US National Cancer Institute found those whose diet contained the highest proportion of red or processed meat had a higher overall risk of death, and specifically a higher risk of cancer and heart disease than those who ate the least.

Whereas, Dr Mark Wahlqvist, a nutrition expert from Australia's Monash University, says eating small amounts of red meat - around 30g a day - provided a good source of key nutrients, as stated above.

This reason for the prohibition of certain meats can, then, be perhaps compared to the rationale in the Guide for the Perplexed by Maimonides for forbidden relationships.

Judaism is concerned that such relationships will lead to excessive sexual activity. While Judaism in no way demands abstinence it is still concerned about excess.

In conclusion, in the Jewish view, one should lead a life of moderation to be healthy, physically and spiritually, but there is no need to abstain from that which is permitted.

A dispute about a hilltop between the King James Bible and some rabbis

Wed, 6 Jul 2011 7:48:00 PM

A dispute about a hilltop between the King James Bible and some rabbis

By Rabbi Eli Brackman

An interesting study in the King James Bible is to compare a translation in 1611 in the King James Bible with a classic translation of the Torah by the rabbis centuries earlier.

This analysis will give insight into where the King James Bible possibly derived its sources from or at least what they are similar to. As the King James Bible is eighty percent William Tyndale’s translation, it will also give insight as to whose Hebrew commentary Tyndale benefited from, directly or indirectly, when translating the Hebrew Bible in the beginning of the 16th century before he was burned due to blasphemy in 1513.

For this purpose we will take a look at a few words that are strikingly different in their translation from one commentary to another and try to decipher the possible similar sources to the King James Version.

In the Book of Numbers chapter 23 in the portion of Balak, it writes regarding the pursuit of Balak to have the non-Jewish prophet Balaam curse the Israelites, because they had become numerous.

Three translations for one word Shefi

In verse 1-3 it writes, Balaam said to Balak, Build me seven altars here, and prepare for me seven bulls and seven rams. Balak did as Balaam had requested, and Balak and Balaam offered up a bull and a ram on [each] altar.

Then, in verse 3 it writes, Balaam said to Balak, Stand beside your burnt offering, and I will go. Perhaps the Lord will happen to appear to me, and He will show me something that I can tell you, and he went alone.

The Hebrew for the final word alone is Shefi. The meaning of the word Shefi however is unclear in the Biblical Hebrew and is subject to debate.

The Aramaic translation of 2nd century Unklus is as above, alone. This translation is also adapted by the great commentator of the Torah, Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki (1040 - 1105). Indeed, all the classic Jewish translations of the Torah in English use this translation as the standard meaning of the verse, And Bilaam went alone.

The Jerusalemite Aramaic translation of Rabbi Yonatan ben Uziel, known as Targum Yonatan, explains that the word Shefi means broken hearted and adds in his translation the Hebrew word for heart lev before the word Shefi. This is also quoted by the Biblical commentator Rabbi Abraham Ibn Ezra (1089 - 1164).

The King James translation, hilltop

The translation in the King James Bible for this word Shefi however is different than the above. It writes as follows, And Balaam said unto Balak, Stand by thy burnt offering, and I will go: peradventure the LORD will come to meet me: and whatsoever he sheweth me I will tell thee. And he went to an high place.

Thus, the King James Version translates the Hebrew word Shefi not alone or broken hearted but a high place. What is the source for this translation?

The fact that Balaam was standing on a high place is indeed understood from the context, as it sates in the end of the previous chapter verse 41, And it came to pass on the morrow, that Balak took Balaam, and brought him up into the high places of Baal, that thence he might see the utmost [part] of the people.

This is the same according to all translations that Bamot Ba’al means the heights of Ba’al - a high place.

However, this only compounds the question. Why would the verse repeat itself and state again that Balaam went up to a high place, when this has already been stated previously.

King James follows Ibn Ezra

It appears, however, that the King James Bible has followed a third translation preferred by Ibn Ezra.

Ibn Ezra writes that in his opinion the correct translation of the Hebrew word Shefi is a high place.

Proof from Jeremiah

Ibn Ezra brings a proof for this translation from Jeremiah (3:21), where it says, A voice is heard on the hilltops, the crying of the children of Israel’s supplications for they have corrupted their ways, they have forgotten their G-d.

The Hebrew word for hilltops is Sh’foyim similar to the word ‘Shefi’. Thus, Ibn Ezra translates the word Shefi in Numbers that Balaam went to the hilltop. In other words he went to the highest elevation, the hilltop, above the heights of Ba’al where they were already standing.

Indeed, this translation - hilltop - also may indicate that he went their alone, but conversely, the translation – alone - does not imply he was necessarily standing on a hilltop when he proceeded to bless the Israelites.

It is therefore interesting that the King James Bible diverges from the classic rabbinic translations and instead of choosing the translation of Shefi, alone, like Rashi and the Unklos it goes with the Ibn Ezra’s translation, hilltop.

It seems, nonetheless, that the King James Bible is on solid foundation with its translation.

Furthermore, one might say, the King James Version is even more accurate, as its roots are found in a similar word used in Jeremiah. The translation of the word Sh’fayim in Jeremiah as hilltop seems to be the most cited translation, as for example the great grammarian and scholar Rabbi David Kimchi (1160-1235) and others.

Proof from Isaiah

Another source for the King James translation of Shefi, as hilltop, seems to be, though surprisingly not quoted by Ibn Ezra, from Isaiah (13:2), Upon a high Mountain hoist a banner. The Hebrew word for high is Nishpeh, which is linguistically similar to the word Shefi.

Regarding the Jeremiah source, it is interesting that another translation of the word Sh’fayim is the complete opposite, A voice on the rivulets is heard, the weeping of the supplications of the children of Israel, for they perverted their way, they forgot the Lord their God. Instead of the word hilltop, it writes rivulets, which is a low place or a small brook.

The source for this translation seems to be of Rabbi Meir Leibush Weiser (1809-1879), known as the Malbim. However, one can say that in essence he does not disagree with the translation of Sh’fayim, meaning high. He seems to be only saying that the voice calling out to Israel who has perverted their way is heard through the rivulets where the penitent Israel is situated, reflecting their low state. It does not dispute the literal meaning of the word Sh’fayim as meaning hilltop, from where the voice originates.

Why do rabbis not follow hilltop meaning?

The above poses the obvious question. If the overwhelming amount of sources point to the translation of the word Shfayim as meaning hilltop, thereby serving as the source of the King James Bible for the word Shefi in the Book of Numbers, why do the classical rabbinical commentaries choose the translation of Shefi as alone and not the more obvious translation of hilltop?

Another dispute in translation - From the heights I see it

The answer might lie in another dispute between the King James Bible and the classic rabbinic commentaries in the same chapter in the Book of Numbers (23:9) – regarding the first blessing that Balaam expressed about the Israelites.

The classic translation found in many translations of the Torah states, For from their beginning, I see them as mountain peaks, and I behold them as hills; it is a nation that will dwell alone, and will not be reckoned among the nations.

Another wording of the same translation is, For from its origins, I see it rocklike, and from hills do I see it. Behold it is a nation that will dwell in solitude and not be reckoned among the nations.

Both these translations have a common denominator in that they are translating the Hebrew in a non-literal manner, as a parable. Literally, the Hebrew says, from the head of rocks do I see it and from heights do I see it.

The classic rabbinic commentator who uses the non literal translation is Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki. He in turn is quoting from an earlier work the Midrash Tanchuma (c. 370 CE). It states that the Israelites are well founded and powerful, like these mountains and hills, because of their Patriarchs and Matriarchs.

Rabbi Moses ben Nachman, known by his acronym Ramban (1194 - 1270), however, argues with Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki and offers the literal translation. He explains that since it states that they were standing on the heights of Ba’al, Balaam therefore says, From the heights I see it. Nachmanides indeed follows Ibn Ezra that Shefi means an actual hilltop, where Balaam was standing when he proceeded to bless.

King James follows Nachmanides

It is interesting then that the King James Bible also chooses the literal translation, like Nachmanides and Ibn Ezra. The King James Bible writes, For from the top of the rocks I see him, and from the hills I behold him: lo, the people shall dwell alone, and shall not be reckoned among the nations.

This translation of the king James is entirely consistent with the King James former translation of the word Shefi that Balaam was not just standing on a high place, the heights of Ba’al, overlooking the camp of the Israelites, but on the actual peak of a rock or mountain itself.

Why Rabbis choose non-literal translation

The question one may pose then is on the translation of the classic rabbinic commentary of Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki who chooses the non-literal translation.

This however can be explained by a particular word that describes the kind of language with which Balaam spoke these blessings. It sates (23:7), He took up his parable and said.

Exception to the rule – text itself demands non-literal reading

The text itself suggests that the blessings are being spoken in parables, non-literal. If this is the case then one can assume that other parts of the text may also not need to be tied to their literal translation.

One can, therefore, in the view of Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, disregard in retrospect also the literal meaning of the word Shefi. Even though in other places like Jeremiah and Isaiah it clearly means a hilltop, in this case it can mean merely that he went to be alone. Furthermore, one can say that he went into solitude to attain a level of spirituality that was as a hilltop compared to the others around him for the purpose of prophecy.

If one were to say that Balaam first went to the heights of Ba’al and then went even higher to the hilltop itself by himself, one would have no choice but to interpret the words, From the top of hills, also literally, as does the King James.

The source therefore in both cases in the King James follows the opinion of Ibn Ezra that chooses both interpretations in the literal. We can conclude that both translations are right, the literal and also the non-literal, based on the literal meaning of the word parable.

It makes one wonder whether Tyndale and the Kings James had directly or indirectly use of Ibn Ezra’s commentary, as opposed to Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki’s. This would however need more research to be proven.

Rabbi Michael Weissmandl: A Rabbi from Oxford’s Bodleian Library who saved Jews from the Holocaust

Thu, 9 Dec 2010 8:37:00 AM

Rabbi Michael Weissmandl: A Rabbi from Oxford’s Bodleian Library who saved Jews from the Holocaust

By Rabbi Eli Brackman

Michael Dov Weissmandl (1903–1957) was a scholar and expert of Hebrew manuscripts, who visited Oxford during the 1930’s, and played an instrumental role in attempting to save Jews from the Nazis during the Second World War.

This article will illustrate how Rabbi Weissmandl’s visits to Oxford served him his rabbinical ordination, possibly the first rabbi to be ordained from his research at the Bodleian library, and offered him the groundwork to attempt to help save tens of thousands of Jews from the Nazis in Slovakia and millions in Europe.

Rabbi Weissmandl was born in 1903 in Debrecen, Hungary, and a few years later his family moved to Tyrnau, Slovakia. In 1931, he moved to the Slovakian town of Nitra to study under the rabbi of Nitra and dean of the last surviving yeshiva in Nazi occupied Europe, Rabbi Shmuel Dovid Ungar (1886 – 1945), whose daughter he later married.

Before moving to Nitra, he studied at the yeshivah of Rabbi Joseph Zvi Dushinsky, who was chief rabbi of Galanta, Slovakia, until around the First World War. (Rabbi Dushinksy was fourth or fifth cousin to political scientist Dr. Michael Pinto-Duschinsky, currently living in Oxford.)

Rabbi Dushinksy later moved to Israel and was known for his strong opposition to Zionism, and spoke to the newly-formed United Nations against the creation of the Zionist State.

In the 1930’s, in Rabbi Weissmandl’s work in deciphering Hebrew manuscripts and comparing printed works with the manuscripts, he travelled to Oxford three times to do research at the Bodleian library collection of Hebrew manuscripts. On one occasion he helped the librarian identify the author of a new manuscript they had just acquired and been misattributed by the scholars at the library.

During his visits to Oxford, he recorded variant readings from the Hebrew manuscripts as well as hundreds of unpublished rabbinic responsa which he intended to publish. As an expert of Hebrew manuscripts, he gained much respect from the librarian, allowing him considerable access, during non-visiting hours, to the Hebrew collection for his research.

It appears that Rabbi Weismandl was not uninterested in the people around him while he was in Oxford. He related that he became acquainted with a non-Jewish scholar in Oxford, who had an exceptional knowledge of Talmud, allowing him to quote entire tractates from memory. It is likely he then would have also got to know other prominent Jewish members of the university community in the 1930’s, as Sir Isaiah Berlin, who had then received a prize scholarship at All Souls College.

His work in Oxford seems to have included, among other things, preparing a new edition of Kikayon de-Yonah, a Talmudic commentary, by 16th century Rabbi Jonah T’omim, who was born in Prague and acted as rabbi in Grodno and Pinsk, Lithuania. In 1648, because of the Chmielnick pogrom, Rabbi Teomim fled to Vienna, Nikolsburg, Austria, and finally Metz, Lorraine, before he passed away in 1649.

The editing of this work seems to have been for the publishing of the 3rd edition of Kikayon de-Yonah. The first edition was edited in Amsterdam in 1690 by the son of Rabbi T’omim, Joshua, and the second printing was in 1712 at Hanau, Germany.

In less than a year, according to his biography, Rabbi Weissmandl reviewed the fifteen tractates of the Talmud included in the above-mentioned book which was ultimately printed by the governors of the Nitra Yeshivah with Rabbi Weissmandl’s notes, glosses and emendations.

At the end of the volume, Rabbi Weissmandl added notes to Shulchan Aruch (Code of Jewish Law) Even Ha-Ezer on the basis of a manuscript he had discovered in Oxford.

The manuscript with these notes can be in fact found listed in Adolf Neubauer’s Catalogue of the Hebrew Manuscripts in the Bodleian and in the College Libraries of Oxford (Published 1886) entry number 761:1 (p. 149): “R. Yonah T’omim’s Novellae on Ebben ha-Ezer, and some other casuistic notes.”

Thus, it appears Rabbi Weissmandl was not just comparing the second edition of this work with the original manuscript but intended to add an unpublished manuscript of the same author that was exclusively found at the Bodleian library.

In his biographies it mentions his motivation to prepare a new edition of this work was due to the fact that students were studying this work as a basic text at the Yeshiva of Nitra in Slovakia, under the tutelage of his father-in-law, Rabbi Ungar.

It is therefore possible that Rabbi Weissmandl heard that there existed this additional rare unpublished manuscript by Rabbi T’omim in Oxford and this discovery and pursuit to publish it seems to have been a central reason for his travels to Oxford.

It is, however, interesting to note that the Bodleian Library doesn't appear to have in its collection the main work by Rabbi T'omim, Kikayon D'Yonah, on the Talmud. It would therefore seem that the comparing of the published edition to the original manuscript was not the reason for his coming to Oxford but rather just for the publication of the additional unpublished texts on Shulchan Aruch that Rabbi Weissmandl wished to add to his new edition.

Indeed, from the following story about his ordination, it is clear that he was undertaking many different studies as his purpose for coming to Oxford, in addition to the expanding of the the work of Kikayon D'Yonah.

His research and intense study of unpublished Hebrew manuscripts in Oxford in fact led to his rabbinical ordination before his wedding.

In January, 1937, (14 Shevat, 5697), Rabbi Weissmandl married Bracha Rachel, the daughter of his teacher Rabbi Samuel David Ungar. For the tenaim (engagement) party, which was held some time earlier, the bridegroom had returned from England, where he had been pursuing his research in Oxford.

At the celebration, he gave a brilliant lecture which lasted for two and a half hours. In his discourse, he discussed the legal aspects of sivlonot (gifts which a man gives his future bride). At the beginning of his talk, he recounted that in Oxford he had found manuscripts containing several problems on the subject raised by an ancient Torah sage, Rabbi Simon Sharabi.

Rabbi Weissmandl intended to resolve these questions. He proceeded to explain, on the basis of the manuscript sources he had discovered, the custom of the Jews of Oberland (Upper Hungary) not to commit the engagement conditions to writing.

Rabbi David Meisels of Satoraljuajhely (northern Hungary, near the Slovak border), who was present at the celebration, was so impressed that, as a wedding gift, he granted the bridegroom rabbinical ordination in appreciation of his deep knowledge of Jewish law and scholarship of the Torah.

In 1939, Slovakia became a puppet clerofascist state from 14 March 1939 to 8 May, 1945, as an ally and client state of Nazi Germany. It appears that at the beginning of 1939, Rabbi Weissmandl was at Oxford working on the manuscripts and it would have been convenient for him to stay the war in Oxford away from harm.

It therefore astonishes one that while at Oxford, Rabbi Weissmandel volunteered on 1 September 1939, shortly after the invasion of Poland by Germany together with Slovakia, to return to Slovakia as an agent of World Agudath Israel to help rescue the Jews of Slovakia and other Jews of Europe.

It is interesting to speculate whether Cecil Roth who had just returned in 1939 to Oxford as reader in Jewish Studies was an inspiration for him to return to Slovakia to aid the Jewish community there under the Nazis. It is known that as early as 1933, Cecil Roth was vocal and active against the Nazis, as he penned a letter of protest to the London Times against Hitler's declaration to boycott Jewish establishments.

Due to Rabbi Weissmandl having spent considerable amount of time in Oxford and likely became acquainted with the British establishment, it gave him the ability to assist with attempts to save Jews from the Holocaust.

This happened when the Nazis gathered sixty rabbis from Burgenland, bordering Slovakia. Czechoslovakia refused them entry and Austria would not take them back, leaving the stranded on the border. Rabbi Weissmandl flew to England, where he was received by the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Foreign Office, and succeeded in obtaining entry visas to England for the sixty rabbis, saving them from the Holocaust.

When the Nazis, aided by members of the puppet Slovak government, began its campaign against the Slovakian Jews in 1942, members of the Slovak Judenrat formed an underground organization called the Working Group. The group's main activity was to help Jews as much as possible, in part through payment of large bribes to German and Slovak officials.

This Working Group during the period of WWII was led by Rabbi Weissmandl after he moved back to Slovakia, together with Gisi Fleischmann.

The transportation of Slovak Jews was in fact halted for a long time after the Working Group arranged a $50,000 ransom deal with the Nazi SS official Dieter Wisliceny.

At Weissmandl's initiative the Working Group was also responsible for the ill-fated Europe Plan which would have seen in late 1942 large numbers of European Jews rescued from the Nazis by paying the Nazis one to two million dollars ransom to stop most transports. The Germans asked for a 10% down payment, which unfortunately was never made.

The Working Group played a central role in distribution of the "Auschwitz Report" in spring 1944, which ultimately led to its publication in Switzerland. That triggered a major Swiss grass roots protest in the Swiss press, churches and streets. It was a major factor in President Roosevelt, Winston Churchill and others threatening Hungary's Fascist regent Horthy with post-war retribution if he doesn't immediately stop the transports. At the time 12,000 Jews a day were transported to Auschwitz.

In 1944, Weissmandl and his family were put on a train headed for Auschwitz. Rabbi Weissmandl escaped from the sealed train by sawing open the lock of the carriage with an emery wire he had secreted in a loaf of bread. He jumped from the moving train, breaking his leg in the process, and hid in a secret bunker in suburban Bratislava, from where he was taken by Rudolf Kasztner and his Nazi associate Kurt Becher to Switzerland.

In 1946, Rabbi Weissmandl left Switzerland for the U.S.A, where he re-established the Nitra Yeshiva.

As his former teacher Rabbi Joseph Zvi Dushinsky, Rabbi Weissmandl was also known for his strong opposition to Zionism, and also spoke to the newly-formed United Nations against the creation of the Zionist State. In his biographies it attributes this to the fact that he felt that the Zionist leadership allegedly frustrated some of his plans in rescuing Jews from Nazi Europe.

It seems that a possible reason for this was also due to his former esteemed teacher Rabbi Dushinsky’s influence, who undertook the same task, travelling all the way from Israel for this purpose. If this was the case, it would have been possibly more due to religious ideological reasons at the time.

Rabbi Weissmandl passed away in 1957.