Author: Moshe Taub

  • Exploring the History of ‘Dvai Haser’ & Other Sheva Brachos Mysteries

    Exploring the History of ‘Dvai Haser’ & Other Sheva Brachos Mysteries

    – Who Composed Dvei Haser?

    – Is it ‘Chami Mori’, or ‘Mori Chami’?

    – Why is Hagafen Sometimes the First and Sometimes the Last Beracha?

    Rabbi Moshe Taub

    September, 2023

    I. Chami Mori, or, Mori Chami?

    Since I am a kohen, I was asked to lead bentching at a recent simchah on my wife’s side of the family. My father-in-law was sitting to my left, so I began by saying, “B’reshus rabbanan v’rabbosai v’chami mori (my father-in-law and rebbi)…” 

    After bentching, my brother-in-law’s brother, Reb Moshe Wilhelm, a talmid chacham and reknowned mechanech in Lakewood, said to me, “The minhag is to mention your shver differently than the way you did it. ‘Chami mori’ sounds too much like chamor [donkey], so the minhag is to reverse it and say, ‘Mori chami.’”

    What do I know? Maybe I had lived in out-of-town communities for too long and never heard of this practice, or perhaps I just hadn’t paid enough attention.

    But was his assertion true? Indeed, for one’s father, one says “avi mori”—my father, my rebbi—the same order that I had used for my father-in-law.  

    When I arrived home, I did a little digging. I found that in the Rishonim, both orders were used; sometimes they called a father-in-law “mori chami” and sometimes “chami mori.” I found variations for fathers, too. Some gave the honorific “avi mori,” while others said “mori avi” (see shu”t Tashbeitz 2:129 and shu”t Maharam Shick, Orach Chaim, hosafah 5; cf. Daas Zekeinim, Bereishis 37:15, inter alia).

    Interestingly, I once saw a nice explanation for why the order for a father is reversed for a father-in-law—an idea that has nothing to do with a donkey!

    In the natural order of events, one’s father is his father first and only later becomes his rebbi. But a father-in-law is first a rebbi—either literally or through learning about him and his family—and only later becomes a father-in-law, which is why the order is reversed.

    Truthfully, it is always nerve-racking to perform a ritual aloud because you never know when you may be walking into a minefield.

    I often repeat the story of an individual who approached Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky, zt”l, at the Viennese table at a wedding and asked the rosh yeshivah what brachah he should make on a complex dessert that contained many ingredients; he was also concerned about whether it was considered pas haba b’kisnin. Rav Yaakov is purported to have smiled and answered, “Which brachah? A quiet one!”

    But there are times when we can’t be quiet, when we need to make a public choice. This certainly comes up at sheva brachos, as we shall see.

    II. Hagefen: First or Last Beracha of Sheva Berachos?

    I have been at many sheva brachos where the person who is given the honor of reciting the first brachah makes a Hagefen. This is, of course, an error, since we end with that brachah. (If this mistake occurs, the halachah is that we simply continue from there, with no Hagefen at the end.)

    But who can blame a person for this error? Under the chuppah, sheva brachos does open with Hagefen, and that is what people have in mind (see Rosh on Pesachim, ch. 10:8, and Shulchan Aruch, Even Ha’ezer 62:9).

    Why do we start shevah brachos under the chuppah with Hagefen but close with this brachah the rest of the week?

    Many cite an obvious reason for this switch (see the Mordechai on Pesachim ad loc, in the name of Rav Nissim Gaon, and the Magen Avraham, siman 190:1). During the year, we often bentch over a cup of wine even when there is no simchah (see Shulchan Aruch, siman 182 at length). 

    Therefore, if the Hagefen at shevah brachos is made immediately following bentching, it would not be apparent that it is being recited for the chasan and kallah. This concern doesn’t exist at a chuppah, where bentching is not recited.

    It should be pointed out that although it is standard practice to make the Hagefen at the end during the week of sheva brachos, some do have the custom of reciting it at the beginning (see, e.g., Shulchan Hatahor 190).

    I once heard another explanation al pi drush (good material for a speech if needed). Chazal state that a marriage is invei hagefen b’invei hagefen (Pesachim, 49b). Why do they compare it to grapevines? 

    We know that all matter in the physical world weakens with age. This is known as the second law of thermodynamics, the law of entropy. 

    But it is not the case with grapes. 

    If grapes are not taken care of properly, they turn into vinegar. But if they are processed in a special way, they will turn into wine—which is unique in that it improves with age!

    Under the chuppah, two grapevines— two families—come together. Once the couple begin their life together, the wine begins to age, becoming more precious. In order to symbolize this, we “age” the wine brachah as well, leaving the Hagefen until the end.

    III. The To’ameha Challenge

    In preparing for Shabbos sheva brachos, in addition to all the seudos, we had to arrange a catered to’ameha in our home on Erev Shabbos. When many people are coming in from out of town, the minhag is to have hot food available for them before they change for shul on Erev Shabbos.

    I was reluctant to do this, however, because eating on Erev Shabbos is a serious issue, and I was concerned that people would find fault with it (of course, I also wanted to save some money).

    The Shulchan Aruch rules (249:2) that we must limit what we eat on Friday as we go into Shabbos. However, I then thought that perhaps this is more applicable to those who are traveling with children, who may be hungry and cranky after a long trip. If that’s the case, then even if a parent sampled some of the food, there would be a basis for relying on the practice. 

    After more thought, I came up with what I thought was a brilliant idea—turning the to’ameha into a sheva brachos

    How would this help? We have all heard of a seudas mitzvah. But have you ever wondered what halachic difference it makes whether a meal is a mitzvah or not? The truth is that it does make a difference, and one ramification is that such a meal may be allowed even on Erev Shabbos (see Shulchan Aruch Harav 249:8; cf. Ketzos Hashulchan 69:7).

    But I ran into two issues with this scheme. For one thing, how would we be sure that everyone would arrive at the same time? And secondly, could we really inconvenience the chasan and kallah before Shabbos, as well as the many people who would need to come in and leave quickly? 

    On top of that, I remembered that not all poskim agree that a sheva brachos is considered a seudas mitzvah (see Pri Megadim 444:9 and 38:7).

    I approached my wife with all of my findings. She gave me a funny look and said, “Um…Erev Shabbos is Asarah B’Teves.”

    IV. The History of ‘Dvei Haser

    One Erev Shabbos I was walking to my shul in Buffalo when I saw a teenage boy on the steps strumming on his guitar.

    “Can I help you?” I asked.

    He explained that although he was not religious, he would be attending an NCSY kiruv Shabbaton and had been told to wait here to be picked up.

    He then shared a frustration. “The rabbi there claims I can’t play my guitar on Shabbat. This is very upsetting—I would have hoped that Judaism appreciated music. Instead, it stifles it!”

    I asked him to wait a minute, and I ran inside and grabbed a Tanach. Then I returned and sat down next to him.

    “Did you have a bar mitzvah where you read from the Torah?” I asked. 

    “Yes.” 

    “Okay, so let’s look inside this volume, which contains all of our holy writings.” 

    Leafing through the pages, I asked him if he noticed that all of the text in every book of Tanach had something in common. 

    “Well, it’s all in Hebrew,” he replied.

    “True. But look more closely,” I challenged him.

    It took him a moment, but then he answered, “Oh, the trop!”

    “Exactly,” I said. “Far from not appreciating music and song, Yiddishkeit places musical notes under every single letter of the Tanach! In fact, the reason we do not play music or do certain other music-related acts on Shabbat is because of this very passion for song. We fear that the excitement may cause a person to get so lost in melody that he may come to transgress one of the Shabbat prohibitions. 

    “Our history is full of music, from King David’s harp awakening him at midnight each night to the song our people sang at the Yam Suf. And there are many other songs as well. Regarding Shabbos, we proudly declare, ‘Mizmor shir l’yom haShabbos.’ Although we do not use musical accompaniment on Shabbos, song and melody are Shabbos essentials.”

    The power of music—and its ability to sway a person in a good or bad direction—may help us unravel the mysterious minhag of Dvei Haser, recited at the beginning of sheva brachos in many communities.

    This piyut was composed by Rav Donesh Halevi ben Berat (d. 990). Rav Donesh was a talmid of Rav Saadia Gaon and is often cited. Like many paytanim, he was also an expert grammarian and an authority in Lashon Hakodesh.

    In fact, his disputes with Rav Menechem ben Saruk (often quoted by Rashi) over Hebrew grammar remain unsettled today. Rashi’s grandson, Rabbeinu Tam (d. 1171), wrote a treatise defending Rav Menachem against in these debates, while Rav Yosef Kimchi (d. 1170) defended Rav Donesh. {Rav Donesh is quoted by Rashi to Devarim 28:28 and other places}

    One can find the signature “Donesh” in the first four stanzas of “Dror Yikra,” the popular Shabbos zemer that he composed.

    Perhaps his most often recited composition is Dvei Haser, in which his initials are encoded as well (Shulchan Ha’ezer 9:4).

    Many explanations are offered for the reason he composed this piyut and why it is placed before the zimun during the week of sheva brachos

    The Mateh Moshe suggests an interesting approach. It is based on a ban on certain types of music that was instituted by Chazal while we are in galus because of our year-round mourning for the Churban. This halachah is in the Shulchan Aruch (siman 560:3).

    The Rema and others point out, however, that not all music is considered equal, and not at all times. Indeed, many follow a lenient approach in regard to music (cf. Igros Moshe Orach Chaim 1:166, 2:137, 3:87; shu”t Yechaveh Daas 1:45). The Meiri explains (Gittin 7a) that the ban was enacted not only because of the Churban but because of the loss of the central focus that the Beis Hamikdash provided. Without a Sanhedrin and other crucial elements of our national base, Chazal feared that we would become lost—and that music might become a force to sway some people toward evil.

    However, so long as one is singing or listening to songs of dveikus, he does not violate this injunction (see also shu”t Shevet HaLevi 6:69). 

    The Mateh Yehudah explains that since music is played at weddings and during the week of sheva brachos, people might come to do the same during other more mundane celebratory events. Therefore, we begin bentching with a reminder of the Churban and the other securities we have lost in galus so that we do not take the unique gift of music outside the realm of divrei mitzvah (see also Taamei Haminhagim #986).

    This explanation fits nicely with the opening of Dvei Haser: “Remove pain and also wrath, and then the mute will revel in song…” 

    Other suggestions for the purpose of this piyut abound.

    The sixteenth-century Mizbei’ach Hazahav suggests that Dvei Haser is simply a brachah for the new couple that they should not know any pain. This fits nicely with the words “Sh’ei birchas bnei Yeshurun”; Yeshurun refers to Aharon, who loved and pursued peace, and it advises the couple to follow the path of shalom

    The plea to “remove distress” also blends well with the theory of some that Rav Donesh initially composed these words when his daughter suddenly passed away before her marriage to the son of Rav Nissim Gaon.

    Others suggest that this is a tefillah for peace everywhere. It is unrelated to the music that is played, or even to the chasan and kallah. Rather, we wish to take advantage of the simchah, which is an eis ratzon, by offering extra bakashos (see Kitzur Nachalas Shivah, 447, note 745 at length).

    Still others suggest that Dvei Haser was never intended for sheva brachos at all. Rather, it was supposed to be a stanza at the end of “Dror Yikra”! 

    Others posit that these lines were written as a piyut for Birchas Kohanim (Tarbitz, 1970, p. 38, “chikrei piyut v’shirah”; see also the article “Pirkei Donesh” by Dr. Ezra Fleischer). This would also explain the mention of birchas Aharon at the end.

    Some of those who argue that the entire piyut was created especially for bentching are of the opinion that the last line should only be recited if there are kohanim in the room. Otherwise, it should be replaced with the words “bnei Yeshurun”!

    If this piyut was indeed composed for the chasan and kallah, why is it said at the beginning of bentching and not with the sheva brachos

    There are some who do place it after bentching (see Taz, Yoreh Dei’ah 62:7), but that is not the custom. 

    But for this reason (among others), there are those who do not recite this piyut at a sheva brachos because it seems to be a hefsek, a break between mayim acharonim and bentching, when talking is generally not sanctioned.

    Let’s conclude with Shabbos. At our recent Shabbos sheva brachos, Dvei Haser was recited at one of the meals—another example of a common public mishap that can take place during a simchah

    However, in this case, there was no need for shame! Many say that this piyut is recited on Shabbos as well. In fact, the Maharil writes, “I do not know where this mistake of the people comes from not to say it [on Shabbos]” (see ibid. #1008; this was also the view of Rav Moshe Feinstein; see Rav Felder, Ohalei Yeshurun).

    Others urge us to omit the piyut on Shabbos (Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach et al.), either because it speaks of sadness or because we generally do not add extra tefillos and bakashos on Shabbos that are not a standard part of the siddur. (The weekday Shemoneh Esrei is not recited for a different reason, and indeed, the requests of Sim Shalom and Elokai Netzor remain.)

    As you can see, the answers to the many sh’eilos that arise in regard to this beautiful piyut depend on its history and purpose.

    It is amazing, as always, to discover the history of why we do and say the things we do and say! ●

  • Copyright in Halacha: A Historical Review

    Copyright in Halacha: A Historical Review

    – A Tale in Four Parts –

    Rabbi Moshe Taub

    Spring 2012

    Part I

    The halachos of copyright begin with England’s current Prime Minister, David Cameron, a matter we shall return to at the end of this section.

    The lack of clarity on the subject of copyrighting in halachah became obvious to me one day in shul. “What are you listening to?” I asked a bachur in the beis midresh one day.

    Showing me his device, he demonstrated to me that virtually every song by every major Jewish singer in the past 30 years was contained on an object about the size of a credit card.

    I wondered, “How long did it take you to put this together, and at what cost?”

    He laughed. “I copied them straight from a friend’s device,” he explained nonchalantly.

    This has become a common practice. One person uploads from his own CD collection, say, all of his Mordechai Ben David albums. So far so good (according to almost all poskim). He then passes them on to a friend. The friend adds his own favorite tracks and passes them on, until this young man in the beis midrash possessed—for free!—the entire repository of Jewish music, no doubt valued in the thousands of dollars.

    Is this practice halachically sanctioned?

    The challenge for rabbanim in seeking to convince the masses of this problem—which has only grown with the widespread use of the Internet—boils down to this: “Burning” music does not feel like theft. No one is pulling a mask over his face and holding up Eichler’s, chalilah. All he is doing is pressing a button.

    “How bad could it be?” he may think to himself.

    So why all the controversy? Is this not obviously theft?

    While we will show that it is theft, or that it falls into other categories of issurim, it is by no means a simple matter.

    The writers of the United States Constitution (1:8), l’havdil, were very careful in choosing their words when it came to this matter: “To promote the progress of science and useful arts, by securing for limited times to authors and inventors the exclusive right to their respective writings and discoveries.” Beginning in 1978, copyright law became a federal statute that the states could augment if they wished.

    While the United States has every right to create its own set of laws—thereby fulfilling one of the Sheva Mitzvos Bnei Noachposkim cannot arbitrarily create laws. Short of a new takanah,they can’t decide on their own what is considered right and wrong; they must find a precedent in halachah, sources and/or comparisons, in order to say that something is forbidden.

    Until the 1500s, issues such as copyrighting were not relevant for obvious reasons. Before the printing press, although one could steal an actual item—say, a book—there was no way to reproduce it except to copy it by hand. With the invention of the printing press, it suddenly became possible for someone to rip off years of hard work by selling the exact same product, with no time invested. Today, we all have a veritable printing press at our disposal.

    Still, you may be wondering, wouldn’t that be a clear case of theft too?

    Well, consider this: If one purchases a CD, a tangible item, fairly, how could anything he does with it be considered stealing? True, a great deal of work went into composing and recording the songs, which indeed gives it its value and is the reason the person purchased it in the first place. But once the CD is sold, doesn’t the purchaser retain the full right to do with it as he pleases?

    The underlying question is this: While a person can sell an idea or a concept, does he actually own it? And if so, does he retain it even after selling a tangible item that contains that idea?

    Rav Nathenson, the great gaon and rav of Lemberg, deals with this justification in his Shu”t Shoel U’meishiv. A case was brought to him by Person A, who expended great effort to compile a new edition of the Shulchan Aruch, adding commentaries like the Pischei Teshuvah to the page. Then another person bought this new Shulchan Aruch—andstarted publishing it himself.

    Seeking to defend his actions, Person B explained to the Shoel U’meishiv that when he purchased these volumes, he purchased a tangible item, with which he then had the right to do whatever he wished…even copying them for sale!

    Person B argued further that whereas the original publisher had only printed small editions of his work, he printed large volumes. Now, most people had large editions of the Shulchan Aruch in any case and were not about to buy a second set just for the added commentaries. Therefore, he argued, Person A had suffered no proven loss. (Oy, everybody turns into a groisse lamdan when defending themselves!)

    Rav Nathenson was less than impressed. He states that a work’s original author maintains full rights over his original ideas or work even after the sale of that item. To treat his work otherwise would be at minimum hasagas gvul (encroachment). At most, the original author maintains ownership to the extent that he need not even claim damages in order to stop another from using his concept, just as I could tell someone not to use my jacket even though I can’t prove that he may damage it in the future.

    Rav Nathenson goes on to explain that even though we find some sefarim limiting their own rights for ten or 20 years, this is not due to the halachah sanctioning “theft” after a particular date. It is because the author of such a work has decided voluntarily to forgo his rights so that his work will live on after he has earned his money back. He has chosen limited ownership in order to make sure his work will continue to be published after his death. If he held on to his rights indefinitely, who would publish his sefarim again, especially if he did not have children who were interested in undertaking the project?

    This logic that Rav Nathenson brings to the decisions of past rabbanim in choosing to allow their works to be copied at some future point, is bolstered by a recent article in the New Yorker (October 24; ‘Are Copyright Laws Too Strict’). There they explain that nowadays many secular books and songs have languished, never to be reissued due to the fact that no one can figure out who the heirs are to these works. Fearing a lawsuit, publishing houses dare not risk reintroducing these sometimes-celebrated works to the public. Our chachamim, as Rav Nathenson explained, had the foresight to solve this problem by limiting their copyright.

    The Chofetz Chaim’s wife, Rebbetzin Freida Kagan, wrote in her Yiddishintroduction to her husband sefer Ahavas Chesed that even after his death, only she and the family would retain the right to publish his sefarim in any country. (It should be noted that the Chofetz Chaim did state in his tzavaah that the Mishnah Berurah could be published by others if they followed certain conditions, but this allowance seems to have been unique to that work; see Rav Weifish’s Mishnas Zechuyos Hayotzer.)

    The Shoel U’Meishiv is far from the only person to discuss this issue. Many have tackled this subject as it has always been a matter of controversy.

    It is likely that the practice of giving a haskamah (rabbinical approbation) to a sefer, which began in the fifteenth century, arose due to the fact that rival publishing houses often put out a first edition of a sefer only to reprint it and sell it themselves. (Others point out that the use of haskamos became a widespread practice because—due again to the printing press—it was now easy for anyone, even the unworthy, to publish works.)

    Some assert that the first time the word “haskamah”was used in the context of copyright protection was around 1600, a few decades after the death of Harav Yosef Karo, in a letter written by rabbanim on his posthumously published Bedek Habayis. In the letter, they forbade others to publish his works.

     However, the first known copyright warning– then titled as a “ksav das” – on a sefer that expressly placed a cherem on any individual who unfairly reproduced it came some 80 years earlier to a sefer written by Rav Eliyahu Bachur for his dikduk trilogy. Signed by three rabbanim, it declares a “cherem against one who extends his hand into the expenditures and hard work of his fellow man…”

    And in case the reader thinks I have forgotten the opening line, or ‘hook’, of this section…David Cameron is the great, great, great grandson of Rav Bachur.

    All this is just the tip of the iceberg.

    Part II

    The halachos of copyrighting begin with Bill Gates, a matter we shall return to at the end of this section.

    One of the most important works on the Gemara written in the past century was the Kehillas Yaakov, authored by the Steipler Gaon, zt”l. So clear were his methods of questioning and answering and so enjoyable his approach that some people used his work to prepare shiurim—not always making proper attribution.

    A close talmid of the Steipler was visiting another city when he heard a local maggid shiur deliver a wonderful shiur on a certain Talmudic passage. Everyone marveled at this maggid shiur’sbrilliance. Well, everyone except this student, who knew that every word had been taken directly from the Steipler’s work. The student was incensed. How could someone blatantly steal and use the Torah insights of others?

    The student approached the Steipler and told him what he had heard. The Steipler smiled and said, “I don’t mind if he takes what I write and says it in his name, so long as he doesn’t take what he writes and say it in my name!”

    When we began the subject of copyrighting in halachah in the first section, we mentioned that Chazal do not openly discuss the issue. However, when it comes to the discussion of Torah ideas, we have a braisa at the end of Pirkei Avos1 that urges us to state Torah thoughts in the name of the originator.

    While the Tosefta2 seems to allow the surreptitious discovery, e.g. hiding behind someone who speaking privately in learning, of another’s Torah thoughts and ideas for the benefit of the multitude, it never sanctioned false attribution.3 Nevertheless, many poskim argue that when it comes to the copyrighting of divrei Torah, we must take a more lenient approach.

    For instance, the Chasam Sofer,4 who generally took a strong position on copyrighting, argues that since one mustn’t charge for a mitzvah, once he has recouped his original investment for the publication of his Torah thoughts, he should not be strict about enforcing his proprietary rights. As the Gemara notes, “Just as I was taught the Torah for free, so shall you teach it for free.”5

    This is a great illustration of just how confusing this issue can be. For while the Chasam Sofer was generally strict about copyrighting—due either to a special takanah or to encroachment—he was quite lenient about the use of original Torah material.

    At the opposite end, the Beis Yitzchak, the Netziv and others were more hesitant when it came to establishing guidelines for copyrighting in halachah; their understanding of the treatment of spiritual material such as chiddushei Torah was more stringentwhich they felt should have special protection.6

    The general concept of copyrighting in halachah is no less confounding; with various works once again offering opposing views. One of the outstanding works on this topic is a sefer titled Mishnas Zechuyos Hayotzer (“The Laws of Intellectual Property Rights”) by Rav Nachum MenashaWeifish, who urges a strict policy on copyrighting. Then there is another work, playfully titled Lo Kol Hazechuyos Shemuros (“All Rights Not Reserved”), which presents a more lenient position. In fact, in a fitting tribute to the latter author’s views, I found his entire sefer online for free!

    The confusion doesn’t stop there. Even the classic modern-day works on Choshen Mishpat (monetary law) have different takes on this subject—for example, Pischei Hachoshen (Vol. 5, ch. 9) and Emek Hamishpat (Vol. 4).

    Rashi7 tells us that there is virtually no topic in halachah withoutmachlokes, and the issue of copyrighting is a classic example of this truth. As we explained in the last section, until the invention of the printing press, copyright issues were apparently not discussed, either in the Gemara or in the Rishonim. The creation of the printing press opened the door for the many halachicopinions, suggestions and proofs that followed.

    Secular law had a similar struggle. It was not until 1710 that England issued what is known as the Statute of Anne, the first official governmental copyright law. Until that time there were only agreements made between publishers, a laissez-faire free-market solution to the problem.

    While even some poskim found the free-market solution a viable one,8 in the case of England, the policy protected publishers at the expense of authors. It was for this reason that the English Parliament intervened.

    All this makes copyrighting, and copyright infringement, a most interesting historical study, where we can actually follow the development of secular law along with, l’havdil, halachah. For example, right now there is a debate developing in both the secular legal world and the halachicworld regarding digital and Internet copyright.

    In fact, using the term “l’havdil” may be inapt in this instance, for, as we shall see, many poskim9 argue that there is no concept of copyrighting and intellectual property in halachah and that the only avenue of enforcement available from a halachicperspective is dina d’malchusa dina, the principle that we follow the law of the land. This means, in effect, that England’s 1709 Statute of Anne and America’s Copyright Act of 1976 would both be halachicdevelopments, or at least have an impact on halachah.

    This concept is not lost on frum lawyers who have a vested interest in this topic from the perspectives of both secular law and halachah. The journal Intellectual Property Quarterly (Issue 1, 2011) had a wonderful article by Daniel Unger titled “Copyright Enforcement by Praise and Curse: The Colourful Development of Jewish Intellectual Property.” And the bi-annual Theoretical Inquiries in Law published a fascinating discussion of this topic, “Is Copyright Property? The Debate in Jewish Law,” by Neil W. Netanel and David Nimmer. The authors reference a forthcoming book about the history of copyright in halachah, whose working title is From Maimonides to Microsoft.

    Microsoft?! Not too long ago Microsoft petitioned a beis din in Bnei Brak, requesting a ruling on how halachah views copyrighting. The information was needed for a case before an Israeli court; Israel presently enforces copyright laws based on an amalgam of British and American laws.

    Why did Bill Gates’ company care what a beis din had to say, and why is this matter at the crux of copyrighting in halachah? The answer will have to wait until the next section, when we will go back to the sixteenth and nineteenth centuries and recount two fascinating stories that helped form copyright halachah today: the printing of the Maharam Padua’s Rambam, and the Slavuta Shas vs. the Vilna Shas, respectively. We will, iy”H, return to the Microsoft case at the end of this monograph,.

    NOTES

    1. The sixth chapter of Pirkei Avos is not part of the masechta proper but is a later addition taken from chapter 6 of Kallah and chapter 17 of Tanna d’Bei Eliyahu.
    2. Bava Kama, ch. 7.
    3. Rabbi Bleich, Contemporary Halachic Problems vol. II, p. 122.
    4. Shu”t choshen mishpat 79.
    5. Bechoros 29.
    6. See Emek Hamishpat, Vol. 4, simanim 17-23.
    7.  Shabbos 139b.
    8. See Parshas Mordechai and Bava Basra 22; cf. Chasam Sofer,who rejects the idea that the invisible hand of the market will solve the issue of copyrighting.
    9. The Netziv, Beis Yitzchak, Rav Mordechai Benet in various haskamos and in his Parashas Mordechai.

    Part III

    The halachos of copyrighting begin with a Christian man named Marc Antonio Giustiniani, a matter we shall return to at the end of this section.

    Before we get into that story, it would be helpful to take a chronological look at how copyrighting has been dealt with through the ages, as our vast halachic history will play a critical role even in how secular jurists may view these questions.

    A. The Gemara

    Many seek to prove that copyright protection exists naturally and implicitly within halachah based on preexisting halachic categories into which it fits, like gezel or hasagas gevul.1 Yet all point out that an explicit case of copyrighting per se is not discussed anywhere in Chazal.

    To my mind, however, there is one incident that comes awfully close. The Gemara in Yoma 84 tells us of a disease that strikes one in the teeth and ends, sometimes fatally, in the stomach.2 Rav Yochanan was struck with this malady and went to a non-Jewish noblewoman who knew how to effect a cure. After paying for and receiving her tonic one Erev Shabbos, he asked her for the ingredients so that he could make it on Shabbos himself. She explained that she would not reveal this information because she would risk losing business if the secret became known to others. Rav Yochanan swore that he would safeguard the secret, and so she consented and revealed it to him.

    Rav Yochanan then explained to her (for reasons we will not go into here) why he was not bound by his vow, and he immediately announced the formula for this secret concoction to his entire yeshivah.

    Now, as it relates to copyright infringement (if it exists), it is worthwhile to consider that while the Gemarahere, and in the Yerushalmi version, questions Rav Yochanan’s course of action in terms of his apparent false oath, it never mentions the fact that he stole, meaning that he stole the income she would have earned had her secret not been revealed money—which is essentially a violation of copyright!

    While in modern parlance this was a (possibly permissible?) breach of “trade secret” protection and not a breach of copyright,6 in terms of a halachicbasis they both share the same root (this may be true in secular law as well; see Duke Law Review,“Protecting Trade Secrets Through Copyright”).

    The Gemara’ssilence on this issue3 may support the many poskim who contend that halachah does not recognize copyright law (to be discussed, iy”H, in the next section). In fact, the Yerushalmi4 suggests that the noblewoman was inspired by what Rav Yochanan did with her secret formula and converted!

    Now, one may say that little can be proven by this episode as far as copyrighting is concerned because, in the first place, a life was at risk; and in the second place, we are seeking a source for copyright guidelines between Jews, and this case involved Rav Yochanan, who was bound by halachah, and a noblewoman who was bound by other laws. Perhaps copyrighting, should it exist in halachah, would not affect our dealings with gentiles, in which case secular law would be the binding force.

    Both of these points, however, are easily refuted. As for the first, the Shulchan Aruch5 rules that while one may steal to save a life, he must have in mind that he is obligated to pay the person back at a later time. Once again, in our gemara,while Rav Yochanan’s action is challenged for other reasons, the fact that he stole proprietary information, as well as the noblewoman’s future potential business—if indeed a halachic concern—was ignored!

    As for the second point, if violating a copyright is, as some say, gezel,7 then why would the fact that this woman was not Jewish make any difference? Halachah is clear that stealing from a non-Jew is forbidden.8

    B. Rav Yitzchak Alfasi (Rif)

    The early rishon Rav Yitzchak Alfasi (d. 1033) tells the story of a man who stole his friend’s Torah notes, assuring him that he would return them as soon as he copied all of them!9 This sh’eilah is often cited as the first teshuvah relating to copyright law. While the Rif sides with the writer of the notes, there are any number of reasons to see this teshuvah as outside the purview of copyright.

    As noted in Part 1, stealing a CD is different from copying one that one already owns. In this case, Person B actually stole a notebook belonging to Person A.

    In addition, Rav Moshe Feinstein10 posits that when it comes to words of Torah, one has the right to say that his words—in this case notes—were not meant for public consumption since they might contain errors, or that they were meant for a particular audience. Rav Moshe himself did not allow his teshuvos to be translated out of concern that they would become accessible to those who would misinterpret them.

    C. The Maharam Padua, Alvise Bragadiniand Marc Antonio Giustiniani

    Rav Meir ben Isaac Katzenellenbogen (d. 1565), known as the Maharam Padua,was one of the geonim of his time. Seeking to take advantage of the newly invented printing press, he decided to publish a new edition of the Rambam’s Yad Hachazakah that would include, among other additions, his own notes.

    Most of the major publishers at that time were Christians11 who had served the Jews well with their publishing houses. Initially, the Maharam wanted the major publishing house of Marc Antonio Giustiniani to put out his Rambam. Before a deal was finalized, the Maharamdecided that another non-Jewish publishing house, that of Alvise Bragadini, offered a better deal.

    Giustiniani was none too pleased and responded by publishing his own edition of the Rambam, at a cheaper price…including the Maharam’s commentary!

    Rav Moshe Isserles, the Rama,was asked to decide the case.12 In a much-celebrated teshuvah that discusses issues ranging from the relationship between the prohibition against stealing as one of the sheva mitzvos Bnei Noach’sand its prohibition in halachah,as well as halachicrulings that may result in animosity toward the Jewish nation, the Rama sides with the Maharam. He explains that even as a non-Jew, Giustiniani violated halachic fair business practices.

    The suggestion that, say, hasagas gevul can be applied to non-Jews was challenged by the Rama’s contemporary the Maharshal.13

    Eventually this famous protest of the Maharam led to the proliferation of haskamos and cheramim found in many sefarim that were published over the next few hundred years. Indeed, the Maharamled the charge for these haskamos, although it is unclear if this was before or after his Rambam went to print.

    But all of the above pales in comparison to the painful battle over copyrighting that was to come—the nineteenth-century dispute over halachiccopyright, a mêlée that hit the frum world like a storm.

    This story will be shared in the next, and final, section.

    NOTES

    1. Chasam Sofer, Rav Zalman Nechemia Goldberg in Techumin Vol. 6, Noda B’Yehudah, et al.
    2. See Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim, siman 328.
    3. A common tool among poskim in deciding halachah; see, for example, Igros Moshe, Chosen Mishpat 2:66.
    4. Shabbos, Shemoneh Sheratzim.
    5. (Siman 359.
    6. As pointed out to me by Professor Nimmer of UCLA.
    7. See Igros Moshe 4:44:19, end.
    8. See Bava Kama 113.
    9. In his Shu”t HaRif,133.
    10. Ibid.
    11. See my feature on the history of the chapter divisions in the Torah in Ami’s Shavuos 5774 issue.
    12. shu”t Rama, siman 10.
    13. Shu”t 36.

    Part IV

    The halachos of copyright begin with the battles of the chassidim and the misnagdim, something we shall return to momentarily.

    It is now time for us to return to and conclude the subject of copyrighting in halachah.

    But first, a brief recap of some of the important material we have covered thus far.

    • While the Torah forbids stealing and certain business practices deemed unfair, once a buyer purchases something, he retains full ownership. This means that he can, for example, lend his purchased sefer to a friend although the friend never paid any money to the author.

    This all seemed simple enough, however after the invention of the printing press it suddenly became possible to copy and mass-produce a purchased sefer in a matter of days, apparently depriving the original author or publisher of untold profits.

    Does one really have the right to do anything he wishes with an item once he has purchased it? Does halachah recognize copyright law?

    In previous sections we gave some background on some of the famous cases surrounding this issue, as well as some of the sources marshaled to address it. We also discussed how the secular world is dealing with these same issues.

    One result of this problem was the practice of giving a haskamah, or rabbinic approbation, for a sefer, which served, among other purposes, to defend the copyright of the author.

    In this final section we will turn to one of the more famous copyright battles, and we will also revisit the story of Microsoft asking a beis din in Bnei Brak for a ruling on how the Torah sees copyright law.

    By the turn of the nineteenth century, the Talmud had been printed several times since the early Bamburg edition, largely unchanged. Most of the changes that did occur from one edition to the next had to do with comparative texts, commentaries and censorship. For example, many were so fearful of arousing the ire of non-Jewish censors that in some editions, every occurrence of the word “goy” or “min” (“nonbeliever”) was changed to “akum”—an acronym for “ovdei kochavim u’mazalos.” This term seemed far less likely to offend the neighbors because it referred to pagan beliefs and worship of the stars, which the gentiles of the time did not practice.

    Remarkably, however, even the term “akum” was not a perfect shield; some Christians believed it stood for “ovdei Yushke u’Miriam” [Mary]!

    Some censorship efforts led to bizarre readings. For instance, the word “min,” in addition to meaning “nonbeliever,” can also mean “type” or “species.” It has been reported that some editions of Shas1 were so imprudent about censorship guidelines that they would change “min kitniyos” (meaning “a type of legume”) to “akum kitniyos”! And sometimes entire sections of the Gemara were removed so as not to offend.2

    At that time, it was forbidden even to own a Talmud in many cities, and when Rav Yonasan Eibishitz received permission to print one, he could not use the title “Gemara” or “Talmud.” Tractate Brachos, for example, was titled Hilchos Brachos. In Akiva Aaronson’s excellent People of the Book (Feldheim), he states that Rav Eibishitz received this permission in 1734, while he was in Prague. We should point out, however, that he did not arrive in Prague until some 20 years later. Indeed, 1734 was the year Rav Eibishitz, then 21 years old, assumed his first role as dayan in Brody, some 500 miles west of Prague. Most likely it was some time later when this edition was published.

    Because of these difficulties in printing newer editions of Shas, there was widespread excitement when the Slavuta publishing house began printing its new editions of Gemara between 1801 and 1817. Although the Slavuta edition was not immune to some strange editorial decisions, the work that went into it was impressive.

    The Slavuta publishing house was founded by the son of the holy Rav Pinchas of Koritz, who was a student of the Baal Shem Tov. His son, Reb Moshe Shapiro, along with his two children, Reb Shmuel and Reb Pinchos, built up a well-respected establishment that published many holy works to great acclaim. However, nothing they worked on was as daunting as printing the entire Shas.

    Because of this, in addition to receiving blessings from some of the great Rebbes, such as the Baal HaTanya and Rav Levi Yitzchak of Berdicthuv, Slavuta also received haskamos that gave it a 25-year copyright protection. This meant that no one could print a newer edition of Shas until the Slavuta Shas had been on the market for 25 years. This was not simply a copyright on the work of Slavuta itself but covered anyone seeking to publish a full Talmud of his own.

    So holy were these men that it is said they would dip their tools and the printing press in the mikvah before using them to publish pages of the Talmud!

    But soon this printing, and the rival edition to follow, would reignite the battle between some chasidim and misnagdim, a battle that had largely faded. The new machlokes not only reawakened old conflicts but, as we shall see, served as perhaps the most important catalyst for teshuvos and opinions on copyrighting in halachah, drawing the attention of the greatest poskim of the generation.

    In 1835, a few years before the Slavuta copyright would officially end, the Romm Publishing House (later, Romm Widow and Sons Publishing), headed by Reb Menachem Mann Romm, began printing its own edition of the Talmud in Vilna, which is known to this day as the Vilna Shas. It had even more improvements than the Slavuta Shas—for example, on the pages of the Rif—and began selling fast.

    The Shapiros pointed out to the major poskim of the day that the Slavuta Shas was still protected by its 25-year copyright and that the Romm brothers had no right to publish a competing edition. Scores of teshuvos were written on this issue, which caused great rifts in the community.

    The teshuvos discuss matters such as copyrighting and the right to prevent a publisher from working independently on similar material (Romm, after all, had not copied the Slavuta Shas). One of the Romm brothers’ arguments was that the Slavuta’s 25-year ban was intended only to protect its own first edition, which had already sold out; it was now 1835, and the Slavuta Shas was already in its third printing.

    While the Chasam Sofer and others defended the Romms, it was only after Rav Akiva Eiger agreed that they had the right to publish their own edition of Shas that the initial machlokes was laid to rest.

    Sadly, however, bitterness ensued. The Slavuta publishing house came to a tragic end, and the Vilna Shas, which became the more popular one, is still the standard edition used today.

    And far from solving the complexities of copyright law, the issue only became more ambiguous. Notably, the Chasam Sofer (Shu’t 57 and79, etc.) and Rav Mordechai Benet (d. 1830, Parashas Mordechai 7, 8) were strongly divided on the issue. Rav Benet rejected the theory that certain copyright infringements are in violation of hasagas gvul. He further argued regarding how far copyright protection, if it exists at all, should extend. Rav Benet advocated for a laissez-faire system, such as Ezra Hasofer’s allowance of free trade among merchants (Bava Basra 22), which would allow publishers to work out this issue among themselves. The Chasam Sofer (depending on which of his many teshuvos one reads –compare his teshuvos regarding the Vilna Shas to those regarding the Wolf Heidenheim siddurim; see Daniel Unger in ‘Intellectual Property Quarterly’), is much stricter, arguing that without some type of official protection, no one would invest the time and effort to publish sefarim (or, for that matter, musical albums).

    Several years ago Microsoft wanted to put out Pashkivillim [(posters, often glued to the walls , and found most frequently today in charedi neighborhoods in Israel) forbidding the copying of its computer programs for free, thinking that this would stop what it believed to be mass infringement of its copyright protection among chareidim. The company turned to a beis din in Bnei Brak seeking the Torah view on copyrighting.

    Amazingly, the beis din stated that until Microsoft showed that it represented Jewish interests, it would not issue a ruling. Steve Ballmer, the CEO of Microsoft until this year, and a Jew, was therefore named the disputant so that the beis din would hear the case! It is my understanding that the beis din did not respond as strongly on the matter as Microsoft had hoped. (See the forthcoming work, From Maimonides to Microsoft: The Jewish Law of Copyright Since the Birth of Print, Netanel/Nimmer, Oxford Press)

    This monograph has been intended only to inform but not to give a comprehensive review of copyright law in halachah, about which entire sefarim have been written. One thing is certain, however—no one should think about copying intellectual property without first speaking to a moreh horaah, and without considering how he would feel if he were the producer of the work rather than the consumer.

    NOTES

    1. See ArtScroll/Mesorah publication Avraham Yagel Yitzchak Yeranen.
    2. For example, Bava Kama 113b; see ibid.

  • Fingernail Halacha: Insights & Mystical Significance

    Fingernail Halacha: Insights & Mystical Significance

    Rabbi Moshe Taub

    December, 2024

         I was recently by a friend’s home, when he showed me a newly purchased two-volume set titled Otzar HaKippah, an encyclopedic work on the history, halacha, and hashkafa of the yarmulka.

        It seems that there is no shortage today of sefarim on specialized topics that scattered throughout halacha.

        If there is a mechaber looking for a muse, searching for a fascinating-yet-specialized topic on which to write, and whose tentacles reach into so many areas of halacha, machshava, and even kaballa, I would recommend: tzipornaim/fingernails.

        From Shabbos, to adam harishon, to the danger of leaving fingernails laying around, chatzitza/mikveh, aveilus, rosh chodesh, havdala, chol hamoed, etc. this topic is found scattered throughout the Shulchan Aruch. In fact, I would not be shocked if some type of Otzar HaTzipornaim already exits!

    1. Shabbos

         I was in 11th grade when this topic was first impressed upon me. Our yeshiva –Nachalas Tzvi in Toronto – arranged that we spend tamuz in the legendary Camp Ohr Shraga.

         Many gedolim of the last generation spent their summers on those grounds. In fact, on the first day there, someone pointed to a gazebo, remarking, “This is where Rav Yaakov Kamenetzky would learn”.

        Our grade’s shiur that summer was given by Rav Nesanel Quinn, zt”l. Born in 1910, Rav Quinn attended the very first class of Torah V’Daas, and soon became a towering talmud chacham and celebrated rebbe at the yeshiva. Along with Rav Zelik Epstein, Rav Quinn helped found the camp and, in his younger days, I was told, he would often be seen on a ladder or upon a bunk’s roof with his tool set. 

         That first day of shiur, Rav Quinn told us that he may have trouble remembering all of our names at first, so he asked permission to give us nicknames by which to remember us. Mine was ‘Modzitz’. Although not related, ‘Taub’ is the last name of many of their rebbes, making it an easy choice.

        He came up with sometimes funny and often brilliant nicknames for each bochur. He soon came to a boy who happened to be biting his nails at the time. “I will call this boy ‘Shabbos’’, he quipped.

        This was long before Shabbos Kestenbaum came onto the scene, so we all chuckled at such an odd name.

       He then explained his deeper message behind this nickname:

       “I have a mesorah that anyone who bites their nails during the week is b’chezkas chilul Shabbos. Such a habit becomes routine, is done without thinking, therefore, one who practices it during the week will almost certainly – and without thinking – also do so on Shabbos kodesh, thereby violating the melacha of gozez. If I call him ‘Shabbos’, the kedusha of that word will perhaps alert him to stop”.

        Gozez is the melacha of shearing, and applies to the removal, cutting, or uprooting of any growing part of a living creature, alive or dead. The Shulchan Aruch rules that when hair or nails are removed with a designed tool it is a Torah violation (siman 340:1). Removing such things with one’s hand or mouth would be a shvus/dereabanan. If the reader happens to have this nasty habit, maybe this story alone will be the catalyst to stop.

    1. Erev Shabbos

        I was reminded of this story the other day when I received a fascinating shailah from Yerushalaim where one of my daughters is in seminary for the year. She was curious if I could help her find a source. She shared that in one of the classes, the rav was reviewing the halacha that we should be cutting our nails in honor of Shabbos (Shulchan Aruch siman 260:1).

        Aside for the general logic in entering Shabbos in a fresh and clean state, there are more mystical significances attached to this (see, e.g., Elyah Rabba here, siif 4). There is a much complexity to this halacha. The poskim debate if this is a mitzvah each-and-every week, and, if Friday is the only day to do so.

        Some, like the Taz, posit that the reason we do not cut nails on a Thursday is specific to that day – as the third day after such cutting -i.e. Shabbos- is when the new growth starts or will becomes noticeable. The achronim explain that his concern is therefore for a type of adjacent melacha/zilzul Shabbos (see shu”t Eretz Tzvi 1:109 and shu”t Shevet HaLevi 6:21;2).

        However, many others explain that the reason to avoid cutting nails on a Thursday is simply because by doing so it is less apparent that this action is l’kavod Shabbos (see, e.g. Mishneh Berrurah siif 5). Rav Nissim Karelitz takes this ideal to also mean we should not cut nails even on Thursday night. Even though that is halachicly Friday, it is not seen as an action performed uniquely for Shabbos (Chut Shani, 1:5;1).

        As for other days of the week, the Shulchan Aruch HaRav, Magen Avraham and many others share concerns based on kaballa, and say it should be avoided (halachicly too-as all the more so would this negate kavod Shabbos).

    1. Men vs. Women

       As my daughter was being taught these halachos, the rav shared with the class the concern of cutting one’s nails in order. The Rema mentions this concern and gives us a suggested order in which to cut them.

         The Mishneh Berrura comments that many -including the Ari’zal -were not concerned about this, and allowed nails being cut in order, but the Chofetz Chaim concludes that we should still be careful regarding this. 

         “My teacher than shared that in any event this concern does not apply to women. Do you know his source?” she asked me.

        We raise our children never to question the Torah taught by their holy teachers, and her request was one of curiosity not challenge. “I won’t have this teacher for another week or so, and was curious to know now”.

        My initial reaction was shared curiosity. The Mishneh Berrura makes a point earlier to inform us that bathing erev Shabbos applies to women as well (siif 2), so why would he not mention women exclusion here a few siifim later?

          But I trusted this amazing seminary and its rebbeim. After a little digging, I found something amazing.

          While many lofty and kabbalistic reasons given to not cut nails in order, there was one reason that was purely halachic in nature, and would indeed explain this rav’s words.

         The Elef L’Magen and others bring from earlier sources that the concern here is for lo silbosh-acting in a cross-gender fashion. Women, when cutting their nails, do so with purpose, make sure they are all even and the same length, and facilitate this goal by cutting them in order. This is why men -and only men-are told to avoid such an effeminate action!

    (See Alef L’magen to siman 606:18, Agudas Shmuel to Rashi sefer daniel, 8:15; see Piskei Teshuvos, siman 260 note 76 in the new editions).

         But we have only scratched the surface!

        Just last motzai Shabbos my wife commented that for twenty years she saw me do something with my nails by the beracha of morei haeish -that most don’t do. “I always thought it was a mistake, so I didn’t say anything. But now I just need to ask…”.

        What do I do with my nails at that time, and, many other fingernail halacha and history when we return to this topic at some later date, iy”H.

    1. Adam’s Clothes and Halacha

        The idea that Adam harishon and Chava were clothed in skins of fingernails is one we have all heard since childhood. Its source, however, is a little murky.

       The pasuk states “Hashem made Adam garments of skin (‘uhr’) and clothed them” (3:21). While the midrash (Rabbah, 20:12) brings a number of views as to the meaning of this word ‘uhr’ (with an ayin), Rashi only brings two of them: Either this simply refers to furs/hides taken from other animals that kept them warm, or, in the name of Rav Yitzchak Ravya, that their skin was smooth like fingernails and shown like jewels.

       While Rashi never quotes it, the meforshim on this midrash draw our attention to another, related, midrash, which states: “What was the clothing of Adam? It was a skin of/like fingernails and the Cloud of Glory upon him. When he sinned, this fell off and the Cloud departed, and this is what it means by Adam being ‘naked’ (Pirkei D’ Rav Eliezar 14:3)”.

        Meforshim to this last midrash marshal the words of the Zohar, which may be the source to the commonly repeated ‘fingernail/Adam cimnection’: “…When Adam sinned, the original special garment -given to him upon entering Eden – was removed, causing him to now wear a different garment. The first garment was…called ‘levushei tziporon/nail clothing’…once he sinned, this was removed…but a remnant remains on mankind as fingernails…” (Zohar, vaykehl, 282).

    How did this mystical information become so well known, and how does it relate to halacha? This is likely due to the Shelah Hakodosh, who brings from the sefer Tola’as Yaakov what he calls the ‘great secret of nails’. {Many may not be familiar with this sefer or its author. It was written by Rav Meir ben Yechezkel ibn Gabbai (d. circa 1540). After escaping the inquisition, he would go on to become one of the earliest mekubalim of the achronim, slightly preceding the Ari’zal and others}

        Rav ibn Gabbai begins by quoting the Zohar, including where he says that this skin of nails was protected from the mirkavah before the sin, but after the sin became susceptible to great tumah. He then concludes by stating that for this reason do we cut our nails before Shabbos, as we mustn’t enter kedusha with growth of potential tumah.

        We will now soon see how others bring this idea to other halachos as well.

    1. Nails and Havdala

    How does this all relate to my wife’s curiosity?

    The Shulchan Aruch states that we are to look at our fingernails by Havdala (as well as the back of our fingers, the creases). While steeped in kabbala, he does not mention Adam. Rather, on the contrary, he says this is because fingernails are a siman beracha because they are constantly growing (siman 298:3).

        Rather it is the Pri Megadim (d. 1792) who quotes the Tola’as Yaakov and then states that for this reason do we look at our nails at this time (Eshel Avraham 298:5). But how does this connect to havdala? I would suggest the following: Pri Megadim concludes this short comment with the seemingly unrelated reminder of the danger that cut nails can be for pregent women. Since we can’t cut nails on Shabbos (as discussed in part 1), now after Shabbos we wish to remind everyone again of this concern.

        Amazingly, long before the dispersion of the Zohar, we find the Rav Mordechai ben Hillel, hy”d (murdered 1298) discussing this custom by havdala (Mordechai, yoma, at the beginning). He was asked why this is not a concern for nichush/divining. He explains that we do this for a specific purpose: to recall what Adam had as skin before the sin. Seemingly, he is suggesting that before the work week we remind ourselves that there was and will be a time of kulo Shabbos, as well as the danger and impact of sin.

         All of this led to my wife wondering why I first look at my nails, then make the beracha, and only after look again and at the skin lines below them. “I always wanted to ask you why you benefit from the fire before the beracha”.

         A beracha on pleasure is always recited before the pleasure, while a beracha of praise (e.g. lightning) is typically said after witnessing the subject of our praise. What is me’orei ha’eish? If it’s for the pleasure of light/fire then it makes sense to do like most and first make the beracha and only after to look at one’s nails.  

       Suprisingly, while some it is a beracha of pleasure, most rule it is praise (see, e.g., Biur Halacha, siman 296, et al.). This means one can enjoy it without a beracha, and certainly one can make a beracha after. I try to accomplish both views.

        Well, we still didn’t discuss which nails to look at by havdala, and on which hand, nor the issue of danger of cut nails for pregnant women, and why the word for nails is so simaler to that for birds, and even Moshe’s wife.

       We will return to this vast topic from time to time iy’H, but don’t expect it to be soon!

  • Simanim: A Deeper Understanding to Our Rosh Hashanah Customs of Symbolism Through Food

    Simanim: A Deeper Understanding to Our Rosh Hashanah Customs of Symbolism Through Food

    September, 2024

    Rabbi Moshe Taub

         Chazal tell us, simanah milsa hi, that simanim can carry weight and portend somehow toward the upcoming year (horios 12a; krisos 5b-6a).

      From all the halachos codified in the Shulchan Aruch, and the myriad minhagim and hanahgos urged by chazal, I can think of none that are as openly pondered and deliberated as is the simanim of Rosh Hashana. It is among those subjects that often leads to confusion, is open to more errors, and brings more shailos to rabbanim over these Days.

        For many, the Rosh Hashana simanim is their earliest mitzvah memory, which may cause the reader to be surprised to learn of the mountains of ink spilled trying to ascertain not just their significance, but even their allowance as, at first blush, the concept seems to run counter to the prohibition of nichush/divination (see below).

         I will seek to not only clarify this issue for the reader, but to also answer some common questions that arise in many homes each year.

         We will not be focusing on all the untold of halachos involved in the simanim – e.g. when to make the berachos, in what order, when to say the yehi ratzon, issues of hefesk, etc.

       Those should be left to one’s personal rav and family minhag.

    1. Only On the First Night?

        “What did we do last year?” is a common shailah in many homes as some struggle to follow minhag avoseihem. In my home, this question is always asked regarding if we serve chrayn and pickles on the yom hadin.

        A most common quandary in homes is if they are to also put out simanim on the second night of Rosh Hashana.  

        On its face, any second night of yom tov should mirror the first, as its whole point is in case this is the true day/date. Indeed, many poskim opine that this is true for the simanim as well, and this was the minhag of the Ben Ish Chai, Rav Moshe Feinstein and Rav Shlomo Zalman Aurbach (see Shaarei Teshuva, 583:1; see further sources in Simanim U’Minhagim, p. 161, footnote 25).

         On the other hand, others, such as Rav Tzvi Pesach Frank, posit that the simanim are unique to the first night of Rosh Hashana only. The Esehel Avraham further explains that the simanim are for the very start of the year, hence we serve it at night, and only the first night at that. The Bnei Yisashchar goes further, seeking to prove directly from the words of chazal that the simanim are only for the first night.

        Rav Shmuel Kamenetzky is quoted in Kovetz Halachos that there is certainly no harm if someone wishes to say a yehi ratzon, eat, and daven for a good year on the second night as well. In other words, no matter one’s minhag, according to him there is no concern in having simanim on the second night as well.

       The Bnei Yisaschar brings a fascinating mystical reason as to why some only have simanim on the first night (tishrei, 2:11).

        The sifrei kabbalah teach how the first night of Rosh Hashana corresponds to Leah and the second to Rachel (Pri Eitz Chaim, 324:1). Now, we all know how Rachel gave the ‘simanim/the secret signs which Rachel and Yaakov agreed upon to Leah so as to protect her dignity when she married Yaakov. So that on the second night- Rachel’s night -we no longer have the ‘simanim’, as we already gave them away!

        We can find further allusion to this in chazal where we are taught that one of the items remembered by Hashem on Rosh Hashana is Rachel’s chesed in giving over the simanim to her sister (see rosh hashana 11a).

    II. Shehechiyanu-On Which Night?

        Another area where both days of a yom tov may not exactly mirror each other relates to the shehechiyanu-fruit where all agree that this requirement is unique to the second night only.

        To rabbanim, this is most obvious, but many otherwise informed holy Jews may not be aware.

       Let me explain:

    The new-fruit is due to the view that the two days of Rosh Hashana are seen as a yoma arichta/one long day. Based on this approach, kiddush’s shehechiyanu on the first night covers the entire yom tov, and to make it again on the second night would be a beracha l’vatala. To satisfy this concern, we have a new fruit or an article of clothing present by the second night’s kiddush and have in mind that the beracha by kiddush is either like any other second night of yom tov, or, according to the above concern, is for this new item.

        Nevertheless, and perhaps causing the confusion, some have a separate and independent minhag of having a new fruit on the first night of Rosh Hashana as well, but for a unconnected reason: as a good sign that the year should bring good and new things, as alluded to by the Tur and others. Should one follow this minhag, they must make sure that the new fruit for the second night is one they have not yet enjoyed on the first!

    III. Davening or Divining?

        Chazal teach that if bread falls out of one’s mouth, or a stick from one’s hand, and he sees this is as a ‘bad sign’ they have thereby transgressed the Torah prohibition of nichush (sanhedrin 85b with vayikra 19:26).

        If so, how can chazal elsewhere support the concept of simanim on Rosh Hashana?

        In fact, the Meiri explains the gemaros relating to the simanim of Rosh Hashana as informing us that such simanim are in fact forbidden! While the Rambam omits the simanim minhag (see shu”t Maharsham 9:34 that was due to similar reading to the Meiri), almost all other rishonim disagree with the Meiri -as does halachic practice and minhag.    

         The Marharsha explains that there is no concern for nichush by the simanim, for only when one seen a siman as a bad sign does it become forbidden, as opposed to the simanim of Rosh Hashana that portend to the positive.

         Many other explanations have been offered over the centuries.

        I will conclude with an idea I shared with my shul that can be a source of growth:

    IV. Becoming a Vessel For Beracha

         Notice how there is no brisket, or steak among the simanim. They are instead a mix of poor man’s food, sometimes smelly (a sheep’s head!), and otherwise common (e.g. tzimus) foods.

    • Simanim are not magic, but rather a practice session.

     In what way?

    • We want Hashem to give us beracha this yearm yet Hashemis aware how so many of us, regrettably, and far too often, only allow ourselves to see or search for the negative side of things.

    “One who has 100 are sad they don’t have 200”.

    One may have health, live in a beautiful home, etc., yet… can’t sleep because their friends have pools, better vacation etc.

    • On Rosh Hashanah, can we first assure Hashem that we will be able to even notice when He provides us with blessing this year?

       So, perhaps, therfore, on Rosh Hashana, we train our eyes to see the value, the beauty and the blessing in even the most mundane items.

    • We used to clean shechted animals, and then salt them, at home. The wife may say: “The blood, sinews, and body parts of the animal you shechted for yom tov have not been disposed of or cleaned-up! Its head is still sitting out on the table!!”. Instead, she will say, “Wow! How fortunate are we to have meat for yom tov!”
    • Instead of the husband arriving home from shul, complaining, “Tzimus?! That’s what you made for hayom haras olam?!”, he will say, “Wow! Tzimus, mehrin, this is such a wonderful vegetable. May our merits be mehr!” Beets and cabbage, as well, were from the most common, pedestrian of vegetables for centuries, and yet, we will see the good in them.

    This can be seen even when it comes to the names of the simanim we use: specifically choosing items that can have either positive or negative connotations; e.g. ‘dug‘/fish, which can also allude to the word for worry (daageh). Demonstrating to Gd, that we shall only see the positive side of things!

    No more will we suffer through negativity of our own invention, Rather we will search for, and discover, the good, the positive, the light, in everything.

        And then…

    …If we can practice seeing the positive in even our small frustrations…

    Maybe, juts maybe, we will be able to see all the beracha in larger and more important things that Hashem wishes to give to us this year.

    Thereby becoming a worthy receptacle for Gd’s bounty.

       V’chen Yehi Ratzon….

  • Dip the ‘Apple’ In the Honey?

    Dip the ‘Apple’ In the Honey?

    Is the ‘Tapuach’ Really an Apple?

    Rabbi Moshe Taub

    September, 2024

        In a shiur a few weeks ago, I mentioned a fascinating shailah I had received concerning lashon hara.

         I opened by reminiscing about a book our rebbeim in Eitz Chaim Toronto had once given us in elementary school, titled ‘Apples of Gold’, which is on the laws and power of shemiras halashon (Rav Dovid Berstein, Torah U’Mesorah publications).

        “The book’s name was taken from a pasuk that describes well proper communication as tapuchei zahav, meaning ‘golden apples’ (mishlei, 25:11)”.

       Simple enough, right?

        Not to one member, who yelled out:

    “Rabbi, that is incorrect. Tapuach means orange, or perhaps som other citrus fruit!”

        “Excuse me?” I said, genuinely confused.

    The man, one of our wonderful gebbeim, replied by adding, “In fact, tapuach may likely refers to an esrog”!

         There went my planned shiur, as instead we had a geshmak-and very public – beautiful argument about this issue.

         Defending himself, he continued:

    Chazal say we are to add some tapuach to our seder’s chorases because it will add tartness/sourness to it, and, because it reminds us of the tapuach trees under which Jewish women gave birth in mitzraim (pesachim 116a).”

    Concluding his point, “Citrus fruit are tart, not apples! More, there were no apple trees at the time in Egypt.”

    He further supported his arguments -sharing later he had first heard them from his rebbeim –, by marshaling a Tosefos that posits that ‘tapuach’ mentioned in a pasuk was referring to an esrog. I later found that Tosefos (shabbos 88a), and that particular pasuk (shir hashirim 2:2). I would assert that Tosefos only meant such a transation to tapuach in this one pasuk because, elsewhere, chazal list tapuach and esrog as two separate entities (e.g. the fourth mishneh in maaseros)!

        After maariv, I privately shared with him that while delighted he spoke up, I think offering his comments under the guise of a ‘correction’ was a little extreme, as he was not simply ‘correcting’’ me. “After all, ‘puk chazi mah d’amah devar-go out and observe minhag yisroel’, we must respect the understandings and actions of our holy nation. Perhaps a better method would be to say, ‘I once heard…’ or ‘Have you ever heard…’ or ‘But this seems difficult to understand…’, or the like”.

        More saliently, I shared, “Leaving aside if anthropologists, botanists and other secular chokrim have yet to confirm the existence of contemperanous apple trees in mitzraim, anachronistic arguments are hardly a challenge to the Exodus story when we begin to consider the sextuplets born under those same trees and the melachim who raised them. This is not to mention the ten makkos, the splitting of the sea, and the myriad of wondrous nissim that are either explicit in chumash or mentioned by chazal during our exile in and exodus from mitzraim.

     “Of all these extraordinary events in mitzraim, are you really bothered by apple trees?!”

          As for the ‘tartness/charoses’ proof, apples too can be acerbic. In fact, Rav Yaakov Kamanetzky rules that on Rosh Hashana one should make sure “not to use a tart apple, rather a sweet one” (Emes LYaakov, siman 188). In other words, the gemara regarding choroses may simply be referring to Granny Smith or other more bitter apples, while on Rosh Hashana we are to use Big Red Delicious (my personal favorite).

        Nevertheless, he piqued my interest. I later found that Rav Moshe Shternbuch agrees that we are indeed unsure if our apples are the tapuach of chazal or tanach. He brings some of the same proofs mentioned above (shu”t Teshuvos V’Hanhagos 5:183; see also Kaf Hachaim, siman 583:18 and shabbos 88).

         Nevertheless, Rav Shternbuch does not suggest forgoing apples on Rosh Hashanah.

      So as not to leave the reader with doubts, I will offer four proofs to our use of apples for ‘tapuach’:

    -One of the earliest sources for the minhag of apples dipped in honey on the night of Rosh Hashanah is the Tur (d. 1340). In that same siman, after mentioning this minhag, he mentions that some use ‘esrogim’ as one of the simanim. Clearly, he saw these as two separate entities. (siman 583; cf. Knesses Gedolah who says that the Tur’s use of the word ‘esrog’ was a misprint!).

    -The 11th century Rabbeinu Simcha ben Shmuel, in his Machzor Vitry (siman 323) states: “In France the custom is to eat on Rosh Hashana tapuchim edomim [red ‘tapuchim’]…all foods that are either new, light and good [sweet]…”. I doubt he was referring to blood oranges. Rather, this very early source seems to support apples and, like Rav Yaakov, specifically red/sweet ones.

    -The Pardes Yosef (hachadash, rosh hashana, p. 196) suggests that many of the simanim listed in the gemara were not commonly available in Europe, Russia, Spain, etc.. So, we chose the ubiquitous apple precisely because of its commonality. The uncommon esrog would certainly not assuage their concern for availability.

    -Finally, even if our translation of tapuach is inaccurate, it would still be ‘correct’ to use apples, and not just because of the vitality of mimetic practice. My proof? The Alef L’Magen (d. 1828) brings an amazing ruling of the Pri Megadim (d. 1792): What should one do if he does not have a ‘tapuach’ [whatever a tapuach may be!] for the night of Rosh Hashanah?

         He writes that in replacement, they should eat with honey,…tapuach adama/potatoes, as has the term “tapuach” in its name!

       “Dip the Potatoes In The Honey, Make A Beracha Loud And Clear…” doesn’t seem to have the same ring to it!

         Now, potatoes were certainly unknown to chazal, only making their worldwide debut after Columbus’ discovery of the Americas! Clearly then, what matters is not so much which fruit (or tuber!) we dip in honey, rather that is an entity for which we colloquially choose to use the term ‘tapuach’.

        This seems to be because more important than whichever food this term is used for, it’s the name which carries the significance, in that it has the same numerical value as pru ‘urevu (see, e.g. Imrei Noam, moadim, 2, likutim, ois 9, et al.).

        We should note that the Sdei Chemed and many others do bring a separate minhag of eating an esrog as one of the simanim. Many reasons are offered for this, one being that chazal tell us (berachos 57) that seeing an esrog in a dream is a sign of being special in the eyes of Hashem, thus this is a good sign for Rosh Hashanah.  

      In addition to surrendering to our mesorah, and what our own parents and rebbeim have done, there is further significance to an apple (or a potato) and honey:

       An apple slice will turn brown after time. Historically, they would protect such fruits from oxidation by securing it in honey or sugar; hence the name for jam, ‘preserves’, as in to preserve. That is the lesson of the tapuach in honey on this night:

       It is as if we are saying: “Hashem, without You and Your Torah we will, chalila, naturally wilt away”! (see Pardes Yosef p. 194).

    This lesson certainly works with an apple, honey…and a tear.

    See here regarding the Simanim in general.

    See here regarding the myth of the ‘Apple’ in the Garden of Eden.

  • Radio & T.V. on Shabbos During Wartime

    Radio & T.V. on Shabbos During Wartime

    & Other Sh’eilos Related to Wartime

    June, 2025

    Rabbi Moshe Taub

    Torah vs. Tehillim?

    Rav Mechel Dalezman, a talmid of Rav Moshe Feinstein, once told the following story. It was a humid summer day and Rav Moshe was in the midst of a complex shiur when the sky suddenly blackened, and a downpour ensued. The room was shaken by thunder and illuminated by bright flashes of lightning. Rav Mechel and his chaveirim began to whisper to each other, wondering if they should pause and say the brachos.But their rebbi continued to learn, and they decided to follow his example.

    Soon afterward, the sky cleared and the shiur concluded. As Rav Moshe was leaving, they asked him why he had not recited the brachos on thunder and lightning. Was it because of bittul Torah?

    Rav Moshe was puzzled and asked, “What thunder and lightning?”

    My response to this story made him chuckle. “What’s amazing,” I said, “is not just that Rav Moshe didn’t even notice the storm because of his intense concentration. We’ve all had moments of deep focus… What astounds me even more is that a rebbi can be so focused on his Torah that he doesn’t even notice that all of his students were having a separate discussion. Now, that is superhuman!”

    This past Thursday night, I was speaking between Minchah and Maariv at a shivah house. I usually try to connect the mishnayos we are learning with hilchos aveilus and the life of the niftar, hoping to engage people in the discussion. But there was an abrupt change in the room, and suddenly, no one was listening to me. They were murmuring and sharing their phones, and some even left the room to make phone calls.

    I pretended not to notice, until someone announced, “Rabbosai, Israel just attacked Iran. I think we should close our mishnayos and say Tehillim.”

    All eyes turned to me. It was a fragile moment.

    “There is a famous Midrash Tehillim (Shocher Tov)in which David Hamelech prays to Hashem that when the Jews recite Tehillim,it should be considered as if they are studying the complex mishnayos of Nega’im and Ohalos,” I told them. “Although reciting Tehillim is beyond powerful, mishnayos are the yardstick by which such power is measured [see Nefesh Hachaim 4:1]. Perhaps, then, since we are in the middle of learning mishnayos, we should finish.”

    I quickly finished the mishnah we were learning and concluded, “I once read that Rabbi Soloveitchik used to say that one of the famed Litvish masmidim in his town would complain that the Selichos of Elul caused bittul Torah, and that even the drawn-out tefillos of Yom Kippur took time from his Torah study. After all, he would say, talmud Torah is considered keneged kulam, the greatest mitzvah, and it also gave him a much deeper connection to Hashem.

    “Rabbi Soloveitchik would then smile and say, ‘I never had the courage to remind this man that when I was a little boy, I once looked under his tallis during selichos and saw that his hands were trembling and he was crying.’

    “If our one constant sh’eilah during this war is when to say Tehillim and when to learn Torah, we can be confident of yeshuos!”

    How to Respond?

    That night, I had a weekly Gemara shiur in Taanis. Although we were still rattled by the news, we all assembled.

    “Okay, we left off on 21b, 14 lines from the bottom…”

    This is a discussion of fasting and teshuvah at a time of famine, disease, war, or other calamity. As we began to learn, we were astounded. The Gemara stated that we don’t often decree a fast for tzaros in other cities, only in Eretz Yisrael. Eretz Yisrael is different because “when the giverta (the woman of the house) is struck, her maidservant is struck along with her!”

    The meaning is that the suffering of Eretz Yisrael affects Jews everywhere, and the halachah is codified in the Shulchan Aruch (576:2).

    One participant approached me after the shiur and broke down in tears. “My nephew is in the IDF, and most of my relatives live in Israel,” he told me. “I wasn’t sure how I would even sleep tonight. But Hakadosh Baruch Hu was meitzitz min hacharakim [cf. Shir Hashirim 1], ‘winking’ at the lomdei Torah through the veil of galus [see Drashos Chasam Sofer, Sukkos, p.52, and Melech B’yofiuv, p. 5].”

    Every rav’s phone was kept busy that night by calls from shul members stuck in Israel, children learning there, and concerned parents.

    The next morning, I sent out an email: “During an eis milchamah, we must come together as a shul in ruach, tefillah, chesed, and Torah. Shiurim should be added to all of our schedules, and we should volunteer for chesed organizations. As for tefillah,our siddurim must be moistened with tears.

    “However, that is the easy part.

    “The more substantial challenge, the one mountain that Hashem most desires to see us climb (see Rav Chaim Vital), is chesed at home, Torah at our tables, kindness to those dearest to us, and benevolence toward those who live or work closest tous. To leave one’s wife with the dishes and kids in order to visit the sick is, at times, an error. To enjoy kiddush with friends, although it can be a beautiful part of Shabbos, must never be at the expense of the energy we need to delight with our children and spouses at our own Shabbos tables.

    L’fum tzaara agra—and the mere fact that chesed and Torah inside the home are so often a greater challenge is proof positive of their extra spiritual value.”

    I concluded with some maamarei Chazal relating to Iran and warin general, along with some pertinent halachos. If I had known that I would receive the following three sh’eilos, I would have included them as well.

    News on Shabbos

    On ErevShabbos I received a call from someone watching the Israeli news. “This broadcaster is certainly not shomer Shabbos, and it’s already Shabbos in Eretz Yisrael. Is it an issue to watch?”

    This question may fall under a concern about benefiting from chillul Shabbos (see siman 318, with Pri Megadim, mshb”z siif 7; relating to broadcasts, see shu”t Har Tzvi 1:183 at length; see also Shemiras Shabbos K’hilchasah, 31:72, and shu”t Minchas Yitzchak, 1:107;3).

    However, if the reporter is giving information that is critical for those in Israel, it would be a case of pikuach nefesh for the broadcaster. In America, however, unless there is a to’eles harabbim, a rav should be consulted.

    Another caller that Friday asked, “Can I call my daughter in Israel just to leave a positive message that she will hear after Shabbos? Am I violating Shabbos in their time zone?”

    For this sh’eilah, I would like you to imagine a boy in Lakewood who has a string so long that it crosses the Atlantic, passes through the Mediterranean, and ends in the hands of a Yerushalmi boy in Meah Shearim. The boy ties his end of the string to his dining-room light switch.

    At 3 p.m. each Friday afternoon in Lakewood, the American boy pulls the string so that the Israeli family can sleep.

    Would this be allowed?

    Many poskim would allow it (see Shemiras Shabbos ibid. #26 and Rav Ribiat in his footnote, pp. 573-576, in Volume 1 of his 39 Melachos). However, one certainly can’t call a non-frum Jew in Israel when it is Shabbos there (assuming there’s no pikuach nefesh involved).

    Sending a fax, making a call or booking a ticket from Brooklyn, for example, to an overseas airline, with no concern that there would be a Jew on the other end, would be fine according to this view (see also shu”t Oneg Yom Tov for how this applies to other Shabbos concerns, such as shivis beheimah). Again, a rav should be consulted.

    The third sh’eilah was whether it is permissible to leave a radio news channel on over Shabbos to find out what is happening in the war (see M’orei Eish HaShaleim, p. 576ff).

    Before going into the halachah, one must ask himself what his goal is, for if he hears bad news, chalilah, there’s nothing that can be done, and his Shabboswould be ruined. Sharing bad news itself is to be avoided on Shabbos (see Mishnah Brurah, 307:3). The Shaarei Teshuvah (288:1) even forbids one to tell another person that he had a negative dream on Shabbos if that person figured prominently in it!

    Perhaps one might argue that his goal in keeping the radio on is yishuv hadaas, to calm the nerves, and that’s assuming that the news is positive. Although it is true that the Rema allows crying on Shabbos if it settles one’s nerves (288:1), we also avoid information that could have the opposite effect.

    However, during a time of war, certain dispensations are given. For instance, the Shulchan Aruch rules (576:10) that although we don’t cry out in tefillah on Shabbos, we may do so for specific concerns. When the Nazis took power, some kehillos even recited the special Yehi Ratzons said on Mondays and Thursdays (shu”t Tiferes Adam 3:18). As for wars in modern-day Israel, the Steipler allowed the recitation of Tehillim on Shabbos during such times (Orchos Rabbeinu, p. 124; see also Piskei Teshuvos, siman 288).

    If one gets around this first concern, he is then faced with another. Chazal mention, and the Rema rules (252:5), regarding noisy or noticeable melachah that is begun before Shabbos starts and that will continue into Shabbos. This halacha is known as ‘avvsha milsa’ and must often be avoided.

    The reason why we allow lighting candles before Shabbos, turning on the lights, air conditioners, etc. is because the concern for avvsha milsa is not applicable to melachos that are typically done in advance (see Igros Moshe, oh”ch 4:84;3).

    Now, no non-Jew turns on his television in advance so that it will be on when he comes home! Such devices would then indeed fall under this category and would be forbidden; some poskim even wonder if there is some halachic method to shut them off on Shabbos (see Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach’s letter in M’orei Eish HaShaleim, vol. 1, top of p. 595, siman 5, and shu”t Minchas Shlomo, mehadurah kamma, 1:9).

    Avvsha milsa applies even if the melacha is only noticeable to those in the home.

    Generally speaking, therefore, keeping the news on over Shabbos would fall under this issur (see shu”t Har Tzvi above discussing radios on Shabbos).

    Nevertheless, in certain situations, such as one whose chronic depression is alleviated by music, some poskim consider the possibility of certain allowances (see Rav Shlomo Zalman ad loc., shu”t Chelkas Yaakov, Orach Chaim 63 and 64).

    But even in the rare case where on is granted an allowance, certain protections will be asked of him so as to secure kevod Shabbos, such as putting the device behind a locked door or in a closet and keeping the volume low (cf. M’orei Eish HaShaleim, vol. 1, p. 669, top of second column).

    Nothing written here should be used as a final psak.

    May our discussion of these sh’eilos be a zechus to bring a mighty yeshuah to klal Yisrael!

    See HERE for more on ‘Wartime Segulos and Zechusim

  • Is An Early Selichos Allowed?

    Is An Early Selichos Allowed?

    The Pre-Chatzos Gatherings

    Over my time in the rabbinate I’ve learned that there are a number of constants—occurrences so predictable that I often anticipate them long in advance. One of them is a complaint, or “suggestion,” that I always receive at this time of year.

    It involves the first night of Selichos on Motzaei Shabbos, which is traditionally recited after chatzos—around 1 a.m., not the most convenient time.

    It goes without saying that our goal is not to question other shuls, chalila. Rather, our purpose is to give chizuk to those who still attend a 1 a.m. selichos who have begun to wonder and question me if there is even still a point to continue doing so.

    Whether kitniyos on Pesach or standing for Kiddush, discussing the efficacy of changing to an other’s minhag would never be seen as disparaging to its true practitioners. Similarly here, there are those in certain cities, such as London, whose minhag is to recite an “early” Selichos, as well as certain communities as well, such as the chasidim of Gur and Vizhnitz. We would never question such practices.

    In speaking with older rabbanim, I have learned that the pressure for an earlier Selichos apparently began in earnest only in the past few decades. If one shul adopts this practice, there is automatically pressure on a neighboring shul, causing a ripple effect.

    So, why are so many rabbanim so insistent on this later time for this selichos?

    The Chofetz Chaim writes, “Before chatzos, we are not to say any Selichos or the Yud Gimmel Middos shel Rachamim, no matter the reason, except on Yom Kippur” (Mishnah Brurah, siman 565:12, quoting the Magen Avraham, se’if 5).

    There are four concerns about a pre-chatzos Selichos.

    First, the kedushah of Shabbos doesn’t end abruptly; instead, it fades gradually until chatzos. The Arizal, for instance, would not mourn the Churban after Shabbos until chatzos (see also Shaarei Teshuvah and Birkei Yosef on siman 581).

    Secondly, we all know that certain tefillos, such as Tachanun and Avinu Malkeinu, are omitted at certain times, such as at night, and on certain occasions, such as at shivah, and even on Yom Kippur if it falls on Shabbos. This is often due to an inappropriate mix—for example, not mingling the simchah of a chasan with the din of Tachanun,or not wanting to add the din of Tachanun to the din of night.

    In the latter case, such techinos are omitted until the period of din concludes, which is at chatzos (see siman 131, Mishnah Brurah, se’if 18, et al.). Selichos, and certainly the crescendo of the Yud Gimmel Middos shel Rachamim, are therefore not recited at night before chatzos, except on Yom Kippur (see shu”t Yechaveh Daas 1:46, where Rav Ovadia Yosef rules that one who happens upon a Motzaei Shabbos early minyan should not recite these tefillos with them).

    Thirdly, Selichos are intended to be recited during an eis ratzon.The Shulchan Aruch says that this is the last three hours of the night, but many move it back, beginning at chatzos (siman 581 with Magen Avraham). Indeed, historically, the first Selichos was said in the early hours of Sunday morning, leading into Shacharis.

    Although an eis ratzon can be created simply by convening a minyan in a beis haknesses (see Brachos 8 and Yevamos 49), during these days of din we want to take advantage of the natural eis ratzon that occurs in time (shu”t Igros Moshe, Orach Chaim 2:105). One need not be a historian to figure out that from time immemorial we have been reciting selichos on this night deep in the night, mostly hours before sunrise. One can simply peruse the language of the pizmonim and techinos of this first night of selichos: ‘b’zaakum b’oid leilah,’, ‘kumnu b’ashmuros’, etc..

     In fact, the Aruch HaShulchan rules that even those who recite this night’s selichos the next day (which is certainly allowed, if not the premier method for one who can not make a chatzos selichos or an early morning one) must skip those and similar statements (561:4).

    Although Rav Moshe Feinstein is often quoted as allowing an earlier Motzaei Shabbos Selichos, here is his exact language:

    [After an exhaustive review of this topic]

    ...“One may allow [an earlier Selichos] in a time of great need, where if they were to recite [Selichos] later, the whole matter will become nullified [no minyan will show up] and they will be deprived of the awakenings of teshuvah. But it must be publicized and made known that this is only a hora’as sha’ah [allowance for extraordinary circumstances] due to a great and unique need; that it is only for this year; and that next year Selichos will be recited in its proper time…”

    • Shu”t Igros Moshe, Orach Chaim 2:105

    This doesn’t read as a ringing endorsement. We should also note that this was written in 1959, certainly a shaas hadechak in America.

    Every rav will make the right decision for his shul. There are indeed many kiruv-oriented shuls, out-of-town kehillos, etc. who need to rely on this allowance.

    But for my shul, I can find no basis or source for an extra earlier minyan just so more people will come—especially because it will certainly diminish the powerful practice of “B’rov am hadras melech,” glorifying Hashem through a large crowd, at the chatzos minyan, and will, perhaps and in time, extinguish it completely.

    While a subject for another post, a rav allowing the breach of the ‘small’ so as to avoid a breach of the ‘big’ is summarily dismissed by the poskim and may also suffer from ‘reductio ad absurdum’. .

    Should a shul, say, offer breakfast before Shabbos morning davening?

    After all, this will certainly bring in more people for pesukei d’zimra -an actual Talmudic demand as opposed to the minhag of selichos – and one can find even more on which to rely when it comes to eating before davening!

    When I was learning in Eretz Yisrael, I recall people waking up excitedly at 2 a.m. to “catch the game” or some other matter of interest. We have all been so excited about something or other that we couldn’t sleep. Once a year, let’s show Hashem that we can summon, or attempt to summon, or just imitate these feelings for Him and for teshuvah.

    • I’d like to conclude our discussion of ‘inconvenient’ selichos with an excerpt from the diary of Max Lilienthal, written in the 1850s, when he served as a Reform rabbi in Cincinnati. Years earlier, Sergey Oborav, the Russian Minister of Education, had appointed Lilienthal as the liaison between the Czarist authorities and his Jewish compatriots. His task was to convince yeshivos to surrender their daily schedules to will and whims of the government. On his way to Volozhin, he stopped in Vilna. Reminiscing on that trip, he wrote the following:

    “…The following Sunday was the first day of Selichos service to commence at 4 a.m. I hurried into the streets, and what a strange spectacle presented itself to my eyes! An uncommon noise of loud steps arrested my attention, and emerging from all quarters I saw persons enveloped in immense white clothes, with a burning light before them, stepping and marching in all directions. I really thought that the resurrection of the dead had made its beginning…

    “I stood in silent expectation waiting for some of these strange manifestations to come nearer in order that I might be enabled to distinguish whether they were alive or specters. I soon found out that they were the pious ladies of Vilna, who hurried so early to the synagogues. Each of them was provided with a pair of wooden slippers, which made such an infernal noise on the pavement… The spectacle of thousands of women in the deep night, each carrying a burning lantern, made me feel that the whole city seemed to be roused and to form a ghostly procession. After having recovered from my astonishment, I went to the synagogue, which was filled well nigh to its utmost capacity…

    “During the Selichos days, the one hundred synagogues of Vilna were crowded to the utmost, and everybody prepared for the New Year service. Even the businessmen stayed in the morning a few hours longer in the batei hamidrash. In the evenings, the rich and the poor, the merchant and the tradesman, the aged and the youthful, assembled in the numerous places of worship to listen to the lectures of the maggidim, who were calling the attention of their faithful audience to the approaching day of judgment.

    “Though the schools had been closed since the beginning of Elul, the children did not run about the streets but visited the synagogues with their parents, as if the awe and reverence of those days of repentance had already taken hold of their innocent minds. Alms were richly bestowed upon the poor and needy, the benevolent institutions were well supplied, and every man seemed to be resolved upon amending his ways as far as he was able…” ●

  • Wartime Tehillim & Taanis – Responses to Community Turmoil

    • Adding Avinu Malkeinu
    • Adding and Extra Shabbos Candle
    • Tehillim on Shabbos
    • Establishment of a New Fast Day

    Rabbi Moshe Taub

    December, 2023

    Part 1

    1. Decisions, Decisions    

         It is a testament to the restless nature of klal Yisroel, to our inherent ideal of kol yisroel areivim zeh l’zeh, to our essence being rachmanim bnei rachmanim, that we never idle when our brethren are suffering.
    However, when the emails, texts and calls seem interminable – and when time, money and effort are finite resources – tough decisions have to be made. This, of course, can lead to disagreement at best and infighting at worst. The satan always has a plan at his ready; especially when klal yisroel is at the cusp of magnanimity, ready to perform great deeds. 

            Rav Yisroel Salanter once noted how people have within them the cognitive dissonance to run down the elderly in their alacrity to perform a mitzvah”.
    Both rabbanim and balla battim must never allow their earnest desire to offer gashmiyus aid and/or ruchniyus support for and toward eretz yisroel to become transformed into the vehicle for disharmony and discord closer to home.

           The complexities of how to react to the current crisis in eretz yisroel commenced as soon as the news trickled into shul on that fateful shemini atzeres.

    What do we do on such a simchas torah? Dance and sing?

    Shorten the length of the hakafos?

    Sing slower songs of hergesh?

    There were also more painful questions. Members of my shul have children and family in the IDF or living in the south. Would amira l’akum on the second day of yom tov -asking a goy to call and check-in with their family on their day of chol – be allowed?

          As I was pondering these questions after mincha of the first day -as well as the potential reaction and misunderstandings any decision I make may have –the gabbei of a nearby sefardi shul ran in. Their rav was away. “Rabbi Taub, should we dance and celebrate like any other simchas torah tonight?” I answered him with faux confidence, recalling the words of the Mir mashgiach, Rav Yechetzkel Levenstein, which he famously shared with his yeshiva, “It was the zechus of your singing on Simchas Torah that lead to their 2nd of marcheshvan escape from Russia, through Vilna, to Kobe, Japan and then Shanghei”.

    After yom tov I discovered the decisions of other rabbanim.

    • Some poskim arranged for a quick -five minute -seven-hakafa set, and then demanded everyone say tehillim;
    • Others sang for each hakafa one song of gladness, and then one slow niggun of teffila, such as simcha l’artzecha.
    • Others demanded that it being yom tov our mitzvah is to continue the standard minhagim of the day, and only following this to then recite tehillim, etc.

           It is irrelevant to share here what I chose to do in the end -as I have changed my mind since then, back-and-forth, and many times. Of course, I would have rather asked daas torah rather than have to decide on my own.

        While I have not gotten negative feedback, other rabbanim were not so lucky. One rav shared with me that while no one challenged his decision, a few of the balla battim were in a heated exchange about how the shul should respond and are still at odds with eachother weeks later.          

        It is only natural to desire some type of control -of anything –in a time of chaos; to confuse our anger, fear and insecurity of these past three-weeks with our small dissatisfactions, minor disagreements, and petty disputes. Let us seek to avoid that at all costs.

    II. A New Fast Day?

         A few people shared the same request: “Why don’t we make a special taanis?” After all, a large section of gemara and halacha is dedicated to unique taanisim imposed during an eis tzara l’yaakov.

         There is much to say on this matter, but I will try to be frugal with sources. The Shulchan Aruch codifies certain comforts to be avoided and discomforts to take on when there is  trouble in klal yisroel (siman 240, and siman 574). However, during World War 1 and during certain war in Israel, that could take some time, the poskim urge these be reserved for anshei segulah (special and lofty people –shu”t Keren L’Dovid, siman 62, shu”t Beis Yisroel, siman 152) “One who is able to take on a fast and withstand it is called kodosh/holy, but one who sits in a fast who is not strong, or not healthy, is called a choteh/sinner” (Shulchan Aruch, siman 571:1).

         Even when it comes to taanisim, the poskim are very hesitant in our day to establish a new one (see new edition, Piskei Teshuvos, siman 571 for many sources). According to some, even if one is privately repenting for the most severe sins, one mustn’t fast (Igros Moshe in several places; Iggeres Teshuva from the Baal HaTanya, ch. 3, etc.). This is due to our relative weakness, and for other reasons (see Aruch Hashulchan to siman 576:9, and Chazon Ish as brought in Toras HaMoadim, siman 575:5, and shu”t Igros Moshe, y’d vol. 4, siman 57, os, 11, inter alia. See also Biur Halacha to siman 571 at length).

         Certainly, the poskim teach, the special berachos and added teffilos mentioned by chazal (see Taanis 15a) are to be avoided in our day when we are without classic musmachim.  The Mishneh Berrura adds that it is better to starve oneself from speech than food (sif 2).

          But even if there is reason to create a new taanis, rabbanim have a higher burden beyond the visible halachos. They must consider the diabetic who is guilted in to fasting, the anorexic who will relapse, and the older gentleman whose heart is weak. To be frank, too many people who shouldn’t already fast on the ‘zecharia’ taanisim (8:19, where all fasts -save for the d’oraissa fast of Yom Kippur and the minhag of taanis esther –are listed). I am certainly not about to impose new ones.     An example of this was during the height of Covid, when some were demanding some type of taanis as well. While well-meaning, the reason why so many poskim were against it is simple, at least in hindsight: at a time when our immune systems need their strength, when many elderly people are alone and therefore emotionally ill, would this be wise?”

        As the Chofetz Chaim alluded to above, preventing what goes in our mouths is not as vital as what may come out.

          Speaking to poskim, there is one more concern to keep in mind: In 1918, journalist Arthur Ransome fashioned a portmanteau of hungry/angry –‘Hangry’. The irritability often caused from one’s lack of food is well established.  Shalom bayis, talmud Torah, teffila, etc. THESE are what we need, not that which may come to stifle them.

         IN the words of the Netziv (realting to a different subject): “We musnt run from a fox into the mouth of a lion”. Our goal should be two steps forward, and never taking on a mitzvah that may, regrettably, tale us three steps back.

         Below, iy”H, we will investigate more popular ideas and segulos that have been spreading, their sources, and both sides of such a decision, from behind the rabbi’s desk.

    Part 2

    III. Tehillim & Avinu Malkeinu

          “Rabbi, I’ve been missing my ride to the city each morning because of the extra tehillim we are adding for the matzav in eretz yisroel. Should I continue to stay behind and say them with the tzibbur? Maybe the shul can just switch the order: have the daily dvar halacha be said before the tehillim so that I, at least, won’t miss the kaddish dereabanan…”

        This was a real request/question I received this week and demonstrates the point we made last week: No idea or middas chassidus exits in a vacuum. Rarely is an entire shul privy to the reasons behind their rav’s –sometimes peculiar looking – final decision. As a point of reference, the Vilna Gaon did not sanction the addition of L’Dovid Hashem Ori to be said by the tzibbur at the end of davening throughout elul due to the issue of tircha for those who need to get to work (Maaseh Rav, 53; 5770 ed.). It is always easy to disagree, yet to do so without the hassle of any burdens or considerations to weigh.

       From time-immemorial, the minhag Yisrael has been to turn to tehillim during an eis tzara. Chazal warn that to use pesukim as a form of magic or healing can diminish one’s share in olam haba (Shavuos 15b).    The Rambam codifies this, “Should someone recite a pasuk as an incantation for a wound, or so that a child should stop crying, or he places tefillin next to a child so that he will sleep, not only is he in violation of the [prohibition against] forbidden incantations, but he is a denier of the Torah, for he makes the Torah into a healer of bodies when it is there to mend souls… However, a healthy person may recite pesukim or Tehillim to protect against future sufferings and prevent them from arising” (Hilchos Ovdei Kochavim 11:12).

        Meaning, one may indeed recite pesukim to prevent danger or tragedy, but not to change it. Nevertheless, our common practice is to say tehillim even for a yeshuah for that which already exists.

        Rav Moshe Sternbuch explains that it must be that when we recite tehillim for an eis tzarah, we are asking Hashem to aid us in the zechus of our Torah study, not simply because of the power of the pesukim (Shu”t Teshuvos V’hanhagos 1:121). For this reason, he explains, one should omit the line in the yehi ratzon that follows many tehillims where it states (translation): “In the merit of tehillim, of the verses, words and letters”. Rather, one should replace that with: “In the merit of our davening to You through Tehillim, its pesukim, words and letters”. This way, we clarify that our intent is not to use the pesukim as a “magic potion.”

     Similarly, the Tzitz Eliezer (17:30) writes that one may learn Torah or for the benefit of the recitors own neshama, even if he also wishes to heal a physical condition, malady, or world problem.

        This may explain the Midrash Tehillim which famously teaches how Dovid hamelech davened that our recital of tehillim should be equal in Hashem’s eyes as is our learning nega’im v’ohalos—the most difficult portions of torah sh’baal peh.

       In addition, some poskim remind us that we lack the ability to form proper teffilos of our own to Hashem. For this same reason do chazal share in detail how the nineteenth beracha of shemoneh esreh came to be composed – even though it was long after the period of nevuah and/or the anshei knesses hegedolah (berachos 28b). Because of this yerida/weakness in and of the generation, we turn to tehilim, for Dovid hamelech had in mind all of the needs of all future generations as he composed and curated this sefer. Due to this reasoning, many achronim, such as Rav Yonasan Eibeishitz, urge us to -at the very least -understand and contemplate the meaning of the words we are saying, and only then letting the teffilos Dovid take care of the rest (see ‘Tehillim, Mesivta edition, hakdama’ for a variety of sources on these points).

        The last line in the Tzitz Eliezer is most critical. “Hanach lahen l’Yisrael, im ein nev’iim heim, bnei nevi’im heim—leave bnei Yisrael as they are, for if they are not prophets, then they are at least the children of prophets.”(See yarchon ‘Ohr Yisroel’ #15, Rav Greenwald, for how long the Jewish people have been reciting tehillim for those in need and as a zechus).

    IV. Avinu Malkeinu

    While many shuls in eretz yisroel immediately began adding avinu malkeinu daily after their daily shachris and mincha, this seems rarer in chutz l’aretz.

          This tefilla began as a supplication created by none-other than Rebbe Akiva.

         Many in my shul urged me to begin adding it. Our minhag is not to say tachanun in tishrei, and for this and other reasons I was hesitant. I explained, “Even on a Shabbos yom kippur -when we are davening for our lives in this world and the next -we omit this teffila, save for neilah

         One member shared a teshuvah from one prominent posek who posited it should be said, and even in shuls where tachanun is now omitted, “For now is like Yom Kippur by neilah”.

         A talmud muvhak of the above posek refrained from adding it. He explained two reasons. “For one, when do we stop? Once we start, it will then lead to a fight and claims of insensitivity whenever we choose to return to omitting it. Secondly, I fear that many are not as sophisticated so as to understand the significance of this teffila; requesting, in the future, that we add it by other important-yet-not-as-critical junctures”.

        Speaking of avinu malkeinu, Rav Moshe Feinstein writes something fascinating (Igros Moshe, o’c, 3:18). He states that this that we reserve this teffila for special times -and omit it at other times -is a ‘hekera b’alma/a demonstration to show that certain teffilos are unique. In fact, he goes on to share that some kehillos would say it on a Yom Kippur that falls on Shabbos (see Aruch Hashulchan 619:8 and Rivash 512). He then shares that others argue that avinu malkeinu does indeed have special halachos, although not because of its meaning or its words, but rather due to its placement following the chazaras hashatz.

          Years ago, in my first year of rabbanus, I kept a little notebook on me at all times. One of the matters I would keep track of was the sources of and halachos regarding avinu malkeinu; if it had the status of tachanun, etc. I do not know what compelled me to do this (and the above sources are less than a fraction of what I recorded therein), but it has certainly come in handy of late.

    PART 3

    V. Shabbos Requests and Halachic Myths

    Compiling a list of popular halachic myths would compromise more than one full column, but a few examples will prove helpful.

    –           Although giraffes have simanei kashrus, kosher signs, we don’t eat them because we don’t know where on the neck to shecht it.

    –           Although certain utensils require tevilah, one may use them the first time without toiveling them.

    –           We don’t daven the regular Shemoneh Esrei on Shabbos because we are not allowed to make personal requests on Shabbos.”

        All these statements are false, or severly misleading.

    A giraffe’s long neck would make shechitah easier, not harder! How did this ficticious halachic rumor come about? Well, the real reason we don’t eat this mammal is because we generally avoid eating any land or air creature that does not have a tradition of being eaten by Jews. (This is aside from the impracticality of its consumption due to their expense and difficulty of finding and raising them.)

    Among many concerns, without a mesorah, we may not be aware of issues that are unique to the animal in question, such as whether it should be classified as a chayah or beheimah, how to treiber (devein) it, how to deal with its forbidden fats, and whether certain signs of diseases render it treif.

    A rav who is asked this question may explain succinctly, “We simply wouldn’t know how to shecht it.” Hearing this, one may incorrectly assume that the rav is referring to the animal’s most notable feature—its neck.

    As for tevilah, whether it’s a vessel’s first use or its 465th, the halachah is the same -tevilah is required before use. I understand how this myth is perpetuated because I once saw it develop in real time. I was once explaining during a shiur that disposable pans do not require tevilah as long as they will only be used once, and an attendee commented, “Do you mean to say that first-time use never requires tevilah?”

    No! But now understood where the confusion comes from. There are a number of factors that warrant tevilah; the utensil must be one that will be used directly with ready-to-eat food, and it must be made out of certain materials, etc. But first and foremost, it must be classified as a kli, a vessel, something of significance. Many poskim therefore posit that a flimsy item that is intended for one-time use is not a kli to begin with and hence would not require tevilah. (Some poskim even allow these disposables to be used two or three times before requiring tevilah.)

    This is as opposed to a fancy, expensive dish, which is automatically considered a kli. In any event, it is easy to mistake the “one-time” halachah for the “first-time” myth.

    The final common halachic myth -relating to bakashos on Shabbos -is much more nuanced is connected to the subject of war, which we have been discussing these past few weeks.

    While most would explain the absence of the regular Shemoneh Esrei on Shabbos as being due to not making personal requests on Shabbos, this is not the reason Chazal give (cf. Yerushalmi, Shabbos, 15:3 and Brachos, 5:2). Nor is it so simple that bakashos are generally not allowed on Shabbos; after all, we say Sim Shalom, Yekum Purkan, and the Yehi Ratzon for cholim—not to mention bentching and many other tefillos that remain unchanged on Shabbos. Consider as well Birchas Hachodesh, which is only said on Shabbos and is full of personal requests!

    The background for these halachos is fascinating, and it relates directly to the way we should respond to an eis tzarah on Shabbos and as a kehillah.

    The Gemara states that the reason we shorten the Shemoneh Esrei from 19 brachos during the week to seven on Shabbos is in order not to burden people (Brachos, 21a). Although the intention seems to be that Chazal wanted to shorten davening, it is clear from the rest of our Shabbos liturgy and leining that this is not the case.

    Instead, the poskim explain that Chazal were referring to emotional tirchah. Our prayers, when recited with conviction, should awaken painful realities, and on Shabbos we are given a break from some of them (see Tanchuma, beginning of Vayeira, and Sefer Hamanhig, Shabbos, siman 11).

    Knowing this is not simply academic Torah l’shmah but also affects halachah. For example, if one accidentally says even the first word of a weekday Shemoneh Esrei blessing on Shabbos (for example, “Atah Chonein” or “Refa’einu”), he must finish that brachah and then return to the Shabbos Shemoneh Esrei (Shulchan Aruch, siman 268; this is true even if he realizes his error before uttering Hashem’s name). The reason for this is precisely due to the fact that one is technically allowed on Shabbos to make a bakashah that he recites consistently.

    However, it is true that Chazal also say that we must avoid certain types of bakashos on Shabbos (e.g., Bava Basra, 91a). Clearly, the prayers that were composed just for Shabbos—such as the Yehi Ratzon after candle-lighting and Birchas Hachodesh—and those for Yomim Tovim that happen to fall on Shabbos, such as Rosh Hashanah, are allowed (see Shulchan Aruch Harav, siman 288:8; shu”t B’tzeil Hachamah, 5:41; Bnei Yissas’char, Shevat 2:2; and Magen Avraham, siman 128:70). Last week we mentioned a view that even allows Avinu Malkeinu to be said when Yom Kippur falls on Shabbos.

    What emerges from all of this is that daily tefillos may be recited on Shabbos, except for the middle blessings of Shemoneh Esrei. All other constant prayers, such as Elokai Netzor, may be recited. Special tefillos, even if they are bakashos, may also be said, especially those such as Yekum Purkan and Mi Shebeirach, which many see as a brachah and not a tefillah (Ohr Zarua, 2:89, and Shulchan Aruch Harav, siman 284:14). All other unique personal tefillos should not be said (Shulchan Aruch, 288:9).

    However, if there is a sakanah, even for one choleh, one may daven for that person on Shabbos as long as he does not do so in a public way (ibid. 8, with Acharonim; see also Piskei Teshuvos, p. 489).

    Now we arrive at our main question. May a shul hold a public Tehillim recitation for the current crisis? On the one hand, it’s sakanas nefashos, but on the other hand, although unique prayers are allowed in a dangerous and time-sensitive situation, doing so with others in a public way is not.

    The Steipler ruled that when Eretz Yisrael is at war, Tehillim should be recited just as on a weekday (Orchos Rabbeinu Vol. I, p. 124). Some have said that during World War II, the special Yehi Ratzons and Acheinu that are recited on Mondays and Thursdays were said publicly on Shabbos after leining (shu”t Tiferes Adam 3:18).

    A few weeks ago, a friend sent a group an email with a list of the hostages, asking that each person he sent it to take one hostage’s name and dedicate a perek of Tehillim to that person. He ended, “Chazal share that when one saves a life, it is as if he has saved the world (Sanhedrin 37a).”

    This is certainly true, and has practical application when it comes to a physical act of salvation. However, obviously, we would not be allowed to be michallel Shabbos so as to purchase a Tehillim from which to daven!

    Rather, when it comes to divrei ruchniyus and tefillah, we must yield to the Torah and halachah and allow Hashem to do the rest.

    May Hashem accept our tefillos, save us from michshol, and enable us to defer, always, to halachah.

    VI. Extra Candles

    On this issue I feel strongly, yet also understand that I am likely in the minority.

    • Many people do not know the main reason why we light candles for Shabbos. Some may even assume it is simply spiritual in nature, similar to Chanukah lights. Lighting an extra candle could therefore lead to questions of neder for future weeks.
    • Women invented kenassos in case they were to be negligent by this mitzvah. Meaning, this is not the mitzvah or the best time to risk taking on, or indeed taking on, new obligations.
    • More, if this ‘war’, or ‘hostage’, or ‘victim’ candle is indeed not seen as a part of the Shabbos neros then why not light it/them on Tuesday night? I just never understood it. Hanach mitzvos. It reminds me of the birthday gift I gave my wife whose card said “This is also for our anniversary”.
    • Lighting a candle for a niftar -especially one killed for being a Jew -is certainly an understandable and moving gesture, but to do so on a Friday night that already has its own, unrelated, obligation seems -humbly -as diminishing an existing mitzvah when so many other times are available. Indeed, the halacha of lighting extra candles for those that passed away was known to the Shulchan Aruch, and is mentioned only by Yom Kippur, thus making his silence by Shabbos loud. While this could have been to save people fuel costs, this doesn’t seem to me to be his reasoning. Rather, on Yom Kippur we do not eat and will have less of an opportunity to use the illumination from this candles in more standardized ways, etc. On Shabbos, keshushas and oneh Shabbos is the key.
    • More, why create a memory on Shabbos for a negative event? Shabbos hi m’lizok, and unless it can be demonstrated that this is a teffila or zechus then perhaps Shabbos is not the time.
  • Siddur Brackets & Mysteries

    Siddur Brackets & Mysteries

    The Secret ‘melech’ Rosh Chodesh Bracket

    Does the Chazan Say “Hashem Yimloch’ in Uva L’Tzion Out Loud?

    Does the Chazan Say Hashem S’fasei Out Loud?

    Is It Al Hanissim or V’al Hanissim?

    And much more…

    March, 2023

    Rabbi Moshe Taub

    For why we swicth Lcha Dodi’s niggun by Lo Seivoshi, see this link

    For other siddur mysteries, see this link

    The Secret Melech Rosh Chodesh Bracket

    Recently, at shalosh seudos, I challenged my shul members
    with a riddle:

    “What is a difference between the Yaaleh V’yavo
    we say in Shemoneh Esrei and the one we say in bentching?”

    Some predictable responses were given—for example, the
    fact that Yaaleh V’yavo is recited standing and the other sitting.
    Then I gave the answer I had in mind, as well as the story behind the question.
    That Erev Shabbos, the first day of Rosh Chodesh Adar I,
    someone approached me after davening to ask why the word
    “Melech” at the end of Yaaleh V’yavo is often in brackets, and
    why this occurs only in some siddurim.
    Odder still, some of the siddurim that place this word in
    brackets add a comment: “Some say to say this word on Rosh
    Hashanah.”
    What is this about?
    Chazal state, and the Shulchan Aruch rules, that since in the
    third brachah of bentching we must make mention of Malchus
    David, we therefore should not mention Malchus Shamayim as
    we can’t risk drawing any equivalence between the kingship of
    Hashem and that of a human being. This explains why in
    bentching we say “Avinu Ro’einu” (our Father, our Shepherd)
    and not “Avinu Malkeinu,” so that we do not mention Hashem’s
    kingship once the rulership of David is cited (siman 188:3; see
    Brachos 58).
    The Rema adds that this concern in bentching extends to the
    mention of Malchus Hashem at the end of Yaaleh V’yavo, so
    that the word “Melech” is omitted in the passage “Ki Kel Melech
    chanun v’rachum atah.” The Rema adds, however, that he
    doesn’t see many who observe this practice.
    A number of reasons are offered for why many people are
    not careful to omit the word “Melech” from bentching. The Chofetz Chaim supports this omission, but he explains at the
    same time that since Yaaleh V’yavo is considered its own
    separate tefillah, somewhat distinct from Birchas Hamazon, the
    concern about equating Malchus Shamayim with Malchus David
    is mitigated enough that we do not have to correct people.
    Others, such as the Kaf Hachaim, actually show support for
    the common practice of including the word “Melech.” Omitting
    it would give the appearance of reversing the praise that one
    has already offered in Shemoneh Esrei, chalilah.
    As for Rosh Hashanah, the Mateh Ephraim states that even
    those who follow the Rema and omit this word from bentching
    should include it on this day, because on Rosh Hashanah we
    celebrate Hashem’s malchus, and there is no fear that anyone
    will make a comparison to human sovereignty.
    Segulah Secret
    Speaking of siddurim and Rosh Chodesh, I was curious for
    the longest time about another oddity found in many siddurim.
    At the end of Hallel, many siddurim recommend that a verse
    be repeated: “V’Avraham zakein ba bayamim v’Hashem beirach
    es Avraham bakol, and Avraham was aged, advanced in days,
    and Hashem blessed him in all ways” (Bereishis 24:1).
    ArtScroll states, “On Rosh Chodesh many people recite the
    following verse after Hallel.” Its Hebrew siddur adds some
    context, stating, “This is a segulah for arichas yamim.”
    Where does this come from, and why is it specific to Rosh
    Chodesh?
    For many years I could not find the answer to this mystery.
    Recently, someone gave me a wonderful gift—the Mesivta
    edition of the siddur, which provides some sources for this
    minhag but makes it clear that they are rooted in Kabbalah.

    On a less profound level, many note that pasuk about
    Avraham Avinu is the only pasuk in Tanach that associates old
    age with blessing.
    However, it doesn’t draw a parallel to Rosh Chodesh.
    It is here that more mysterious elements enter. Mishnas
    Chasidim (Rosh Chodesh, perek 2) explains that this pasuk is an
    allusion to a particular malach. The siddur of the Baal HaTanya
    even says that one should think of this malach as stating the
    verse. This is because we typically do not say aloud the names
    of certain malachim, as we see in the special added tefillos
    found in Avinu Malkeinu and during tekias shofar (see Arizal,
    Shaar Hamitzvos, Shemos; Sefer Chasidim #205 and 469, and
    Mor U’ketziah on Tur, siman 299; see also Siddur Rabbeinu
    Hazakein, pp. 480-481).
    There are many other siddur bracket mysteries—for
    example, why we say “Adir Adireinu” only in Kedushah on some
    Yom Tov days; the significance of the bracketed words in the
    Friday-night Kiddush; and whether we say “Re’eh nah
    v’anyeinu” in Shemoneh Esrei or leave out the word “nah.”

    “Hashem S’Fasei’s” Whisper
    One of the uncertainties that first-time chazzanim encounter
    is whether the opening words of Shemoneh Esrei—“Hashem
    sefasei tiftach u’fi yagid tehilasecha” (Tehillim 51:17)—are to be
    recited aloud at the beginning of Chazaras Hashatz, quietly, or
    not at all. Although Chazal state that one must begin with these
    words (Brachos 4b and 9b), it is unclear how central that is.
    Before I moved to Queens, I never heard a chazzan say this
    verse aloud. But in my current shul there are members and
    previous rabbanim who studied under Rav Soloveitchik and said
    he held that the verse must be recited aloud at the start of the
    repetition.
    This question has significant ramifications beyond an aveil
    and a first-time chazzan.
    The Shulchan Aruch rules that this verse must be said by the
    chazzan (siman 111:2). However, many poskim assert that he
    meant it should be said quietly (Magen Avraham, Ba’er Heiteiv,
    and Shulchan Aruch Harav, inter alia). Others disagree with his
    premise and argue that the chazzan need not say it at all.
    The Chofetz Chaim wonders if this issue hinges upon
    another. If one forgets to say this verse at the beginning of his
    private Shemoneh Esrei, must he repeat the tefillah? If the verse
    is part and parcel of the tefillah, it would mean that not only
    must the chazzan say it, but so must the private mispallel.
    In the end, he argues that both can be true. The chazzan
    should say it, even if in a whisper; however, it is not an integral
    part of Shemoneh Esrei, and one who forgets to say it does not
    need to repeat Shemoneh Esrei (Biur Halachah, ad loc.).

    Several years ago, I was researching the matter of davening
    for Moshiach. I was astounded to find that Rav Moshe argues
    that, aside from whatever is part of our mesorah, tefillos for
    Moshiach must be avoided (Igros Moshe, Orach Chaim, chelek 5
    24:8; see page 84, second column, second paragraph). This
    matter came up as he was discussing the opening and closing
    verses of Shemoneh Esrei, “Hashem sefasai tiftach” and “Yehi
    l’ratzon” (see there for how they are connected to Moshiach).
    Arguing with the Chofetz Chaim, Rav Moshe says that one who
    forgets the opening verse must repeat Shemoneh Esrei!
    The Riddle of U’va L’Tzion
    If one looks into most siddurim, he will find that three
    pesukim are highlighted in U’va L’Tzion—“Kadosh,” “Baruch,”
    and “Yimloch.” Chazal say that this tefillah, which we call
    Kedushah d’Sidra, sustains the world (Sotah 49), and that is why
    we say the first two pesukim out loud as a tzibbur, introduced
    by the chazzan.
    However, many new chazzanim—and some experiences
    ones—are unsure whether the final line, “Yimloch,” should be
    introduced and recited out loud. Walk into any shul and you will
    notice that the first two are announced, but the third,
    “Yimloch,” often is not. And yes, it is highlighted in most
    siddurim.
    Some chazzanim do have the minhag to introduce
    “Yimloch,” so that it too is recited together (even though its
    introduction consists of Aramaic words which we typically only
    whisper), but most do not.
    The explanation behind this siddur mystery is wrapped in
    another enigma. We will explain this, along with a few other
    siddur mysteries, in our final installment below.

    Rav Dovid Kaplan, z”l, my rosh yeshivah in Nachalas Tzvi in
    Toronto, was a true original. His consummate dedication to
    Torah and mesorah was unmistakable and became ingrained in
    every bachur in his yeshivah.
    This passion came from his esteemed parents, the famed
    Rav Baruch and Rebbetzin Vichna Kaplan (née Eisen), who
    developed the Bais Yaakov movement in America. In the famous
    words of Rav Aharon Kotler, “If not for Rav Baruch and
    Rebbetzin Vichna Kaplan, who started a large-scale Bais Yaakov
    movement on these shores, there would be no true
    appreciation for a ben Torah, for an aspiring talmid chacham,
    for a life consecrated to Torah. There would be no willingness to
    forgo material comfort for the sake of talmud Torah. There
    would be no kollelim in America” (From A Living Mishnas Rav
    Aharon).
    The Brisker Rav himself had urged the Kaplans to move here
    (The Brisker Rav, Vol. 1, p. 225).
    Rav Dovid Kaplan was a captivating, often hilarious speaker
    whose shmuessen were unforgettable. He once told a story of a
    friend of his who went to visit an acquaintance in a prison in
    New York. The prison had Daf Yomi shiurim and daily minyanim,
    and after driving a long way to get there, his friend joined the
    minyan for Shacharis.
    Near the end of davening, he watched as one of the
    prisoners headed to the back table to take off his tefillin. The so
    he turned to this prisoner and said, “I understand why the
    Shulchan Aruch warns us not to end davening or leave shul
    before U’va L’Tzion [132:2] since many people are busy and are
    rushing to get to work. But where are you going?”
    My rosh yeshivah shared this memorable story to remind us
    of the power of regilus—our tendency to err and do aveiros not so much out of taivah as out of habit—and it also brings us back
    to where we left off last week.
    Over the past few weeks we have been discussing various
    mysteries of the siddur, concluding last week with an
    imponderable that contains many secrets. Many who daven
    before the amud are unsure if the line “Hashem yimloch” in
    U’va L’Tzion should be introduced and recited out loud just like
    the two lines of Kedushah that precede it.
    Most shuls do not introduce this line or say it aloud,
    although it is highlighted in most siddurim.
    For the answer to this issue, we have to dig a little deeper
    and understand the importance of U’va L’Tzion (also called
    Kedushah d’Sidra).
    In the tochachah in Sefer Devarim, Hashem alerts us to the
    reality of our present galus: “In the mornings you will say, ‘If it
    were only still evening!’ and in the evenings you will say, ‘If it
    were only still morning!’—because of what your heart will fear
    and your eyes see” (28:67).
    Chazal (Sotah 49) explain this pasuk as informing us that in
    galus nothing will be static; each day will bring a novel
    discomfort. The Gemara wonders how it is possible that a
    continual progression of pain like this won’t consume the world.
    It answers that the world would indeed be consumed if not for
    two zechusim—the merit of answering, “Amein yehei Shemei
    Rabbah” and our daily recital of U’va L’Tzion. Rashi explains that
    this tefillah contains both the pesukim of Kedushah and the
    targum, thereby enabling every single person, no matter how
    busy he is, to learn a little bit of Torah each day.
    Each morning we say the pesukim of Kedushah three
    times—in birchas Krias Shema, during Chazaras Hashatz, and in
    U’va L’Tzion. The Aruch Hashulchan (132:6) explains that this is
    the reason the chazzan introduces each line of the Kedushah in
    U’va L’Tzion, distinguishing it from the others.

    But if you look into most siddurim, you will find that three
    pesukim in this tefillah are highlighted: “Kadosh, kadosh,
    kadosh,” “baruch kevod” and “yimloch.” So why do so many
    people leave this last line of Kedushah out?
    The Avudraham (R. Dovid Avudraham, d. circa 1350), the
    most celebrated of our siddur commentators, points out a
    greater anomaly. The third line of any Kedushah is always
    “yimloch Hashem,” from Tehillim (146:10). Why, then, in U’va
    L’Tzion, do we exchange this verse for the similar “yimloch
    Hashem” that is in the Shiras Hayam in Beshalach (Shemos
    15:18)?
    This switch often goes unnoticed until it is pointed out, and
    it is not the only one. The Rokeach (Vol. 2, p. 441) and the Kol
    Bo (siman 8) observe that “yimloch” and even “Hashem
    yimloch” are completely left out of the Kedushah we say in
    birchas Krias Shema!
    As for the switch in U’va L’Tzion, the Avudraham explains as
    follows: The purpose of this tefillah is to recite pesukim with
    their proper targum. However, the books of Kesuvim—which
    contain the pasuk “yimloch Hashem” from Tehillim—do not
    have a classic mesorah targum. We therefore exchanged it for a
    verse with a similar theme.
    Because this change had to be made, many suggest that it be
    said quietly so as not to compare Toras Moshe to the rest of the
    pesukim in Nevi’im and Kesuvim (see, for example, Ba’er Heiteiv,
    siman 132:2).
    There is another reason some people say this verse quietly.
    Many poskim (but not all; see Arizal as brought in the Shaarei
    Teshuvah) rule that the targum of Kedushah in Aramaic must be
    said quietly. “Yimloch” is the only one that is introduced with
    Aramaic statements, making it questionable whether the
    chazzan should say them aloud so as to alert the tzibbur.

    Al Hannisim vs V’Al Hanissim?
    (For a more detailed discussion of this issue, see the post dedictaed to this subject).

    As Purim is drawing near, I’d like to conclude this mini-series
    on the siddur with a mystery about which everyone has
    wondered—do we say “al hanissim” or “v’al hanissim”?
    As I mentioned a few weeks ago, not always is adding letters
    or words in brackets in the siddur a way of fulfilling all views,
    and this case is no exception.
    For those who may think it makes little difference,
    remember that a single letter in Hebrew can make all the
    difference!
    In siddurim going all the way back to Rav Amram Gaon (d.
    875), through the Tur, and up to the Vilna Gaon (Maaseh Rav48), the vav is absent, and therefore, many argue that the original version should not be changed.
    Others, such as Rav Zalman Henna (d. 1746; see Shaarei
    Tefillah, siman 110) and the Aruch Hashulchan (siman 682),
    urge us to add the vav, which generally signifies a connection to
    what came previously.
    To confuse matters even more, some say that the vav is only
    needed in bentching but not in Shemoneh Esrei. In the latter, Al
    Hanissim does indeed follow the words before it well, and it
    also serves to conclude the hodaah (thanks) section. This is not
    the case in bentching, however, where the brachah of hodaah
    must still be said following Al Hanissim.
    Although Rav Henna is a famed grammarian, other
    medakdim, such as the Yaavetz (Bais Yaakov) and Rav Wolf
    Haddenheim (Safah Berurah), argue that the vav should always
    be omitted.
    Is this a case where the stringency is to say the vav or to
    omit it?
    If you do not have a clear minhag, the only answer is to ask
    your local rav! ●

  • Why We (still) Light the Menorah Indoors

    Why We (still) Light the Menorah Indoors

    December, 2023

    On Chanukah, unlike all other Yamim Tovim, there are no specific obligations throughout the day, such as matanos la’evyonim on Purim or a seudah on the Shalosh Regalim. There’s also no constant

    mitzvah like dwelling in the sukkah or refraining from chametz and no issur melachah like on Shavuos.1

    To this point, Rav Moshe Feinstein remarkably writes that outside the moment of lighting, one may not recite the berachah of Shehecheyanu during Chanukah because “these days of Chanukah have no greater kedushah than any day of the year…this, as opposed to, say, Yom Kippur, when we can say this berachah unconnected to a specific act because the day itself has special kedushah.”2It is therefore all the more peculiar that the one and only act unique to Chanukah—the lighting of the menorah—does not seem to be per- formed in the way initially designed. Let’s start at the beginning. The Gemara teaches:

    The Chanukah menorah is to be positioned by one’s doorway from the outside. If one lives on an upper floor, he should place it in a window that is adjacent to the public domain. In times of danger, it should be placed on his table and that is enough.3

    This is also precisely how the Shulchan Aruch records the halachah,4 indicating that when not in times of danger, like in, arguably, today’s America, one must light outside. However, later the Rama makes it clear that already in his days the standard practice was still to light indoors.5 This is largely the accepted practice, at least among Ashkenazim living outside of Eretz Yisrael.6

    Most Gedolim and their adherents still follow or followed this practice of lighting indoors. Is this still due to danger? And if so, would someone living in, say, Lakewood, with only frum neighbors, still have this same allowance? I cannot think of many other clear halachos found in Chazal for which our practice seems to veer from its basic structure.

    Even more confounding is that in every other element of this mitzvah, we perform it mehadrin min ha’mehadrin, adding one extra candle for each night instead of the basic one per night and having others in the house light in addition to the father.7 Moreover, Chanukah was always set apart with this precise unique quality in that its pirsumei nisa was to be done outside and in public, as opposed to the “inside” pirsum ha’neis of Purim done in shul.8 Why, then, would we agree to take this distinctivenessaway? The Brisker Rav, for example, was very careful to light outside, considering that to be an essential part of the mitzvah.9 In fact, if ever he had to light inside due to a concern, he would relight outside if that risk went away; in this, he saw the din comparable to mitzvas sukkah.

    Rav Elyashiv, too, strongly opposed the idea that nowadays, in locations where it is safe, we must still light indoors. For, if this is no longer the halachah, “for whom was that clear law in the Shulchan Aruch written? Even the Rama does not comment at that place.”10 Nevertheless, most poskim do not seem to take this strict approach, with Rav Moshe Feinstein even stating that today “it is not possible to light outdoors.”11

    Why should this still hold true? Some early Rishonim mention this minhag of not lighting outdoors, yet they often also urge one to at least light inside the doorframe of their home, facing the street.12 Nevertheless, the basic halachah allows one to simply light anywhere visible in their home—on a dining room table, for instance. Many approaches have been offered throughout the centuries to this question.

    Already in the twelfth century, the minhag among many was to light indoors, causing the Ohr Zarua to wonder, being that there are no longer any dangers, why should we not light outside?13 And this was nine hundred years ago. While he does not provide an answer, a few decades later, the Sefer Ha’itur does, writing, “U’meiachar she’nahagu al hasakanah, nahagu.”14 Meaning, seemingly, that although there may no longer be a danger, once we accepted this practice of lighting indoors, we retained it.15

    The words of the holy Baal Ha’itur are difficult to fathom. To give an extreme example to make the point, would we say that someone who worked at a truck stop as a teenager when he received an allowance not to wear his yarmulke due to safety concerns, still need not wear one twenty years later as a doctor on Madison Ave? Chalilah! Rav Yerucham Olshin offers a way to understand this Sefer Ha’itur based on how Rav Meir Soloveitchik would quote his father, the Brisker Rav: “Once our leaders were mesaken a new din of lighting indoors due to danger, this new takanah stands even when its reason ceases to exist!”16

    The Rama’s statement was based on the view of Rabbeinu Yerucham, who explained that the reason we light indoors is not just due to a physical sakanah but a monetary one as well, as thieves may steal one’s menorah.17 This concern would certainly still stand today. However, this reasoning would lead to an obvious question: Who said one must light with an expensive menorah? If indeed this is the reason for our present-day minhag, why not then light with Coke bottles (cleaned and stripped) so as to perform this mitzvah in its proper location?

    One may be tempted to suggest that the Rama in Darkei Moshe was concerned for the view of the Raavad who posits that hiddur mitzvah (i.e., using a silver menorah) is a Torah law,18 which would then, indeed, require one to light indoors with a nice menorah instead of outside with a makeshift menorah. This is because the Torah law of beautification eclipses the Rabbinic placement of the menorah. However, this would be a stretch, for the very mitzvah one is beautifying is a Rabbinic one, so how could the commandment to beautify it be Biblical?19

    Many others give a more technical approach to our still lighting indoors. While a sakanah may no longer exist, most Jews moved to northern countries where the weather during Chanukah is cold, windy, and wet. The Ritva quotes his rebbi as telling him that if it is windyoutside, one should light indoors;20 and the Ritva extends this to many other weather-based concerns.

    Rav Amram Gaon states the same. This would explain why many of those outside Israel, who indeed light outdoors, purchase special glass containers to protect their lights from the elements. The reader should, however, note that not all poskim allow for such encasements.21

    The Shu”t Imrei Noam22 finds an answer to our question from Chanukah’s original source: Megillas Taanis, a sefer written by the Tanna Rabbi Chananyah ben Chizkiyah, delineating more than thirty special dates and events we are to celebrate.23

    Amazingly, it states there: “Should one fear from leitzim [ridiculers], then one may light by the door inside one’s home.” Meaning, aside from the issue of sakanah, wind, and robbers, there is another concern: scoffers.

    From the B’nei Yissaschar,24 it would seem that these leitzim were cynical Jews who would challenge the propriety of either a public display of love for Hashem and for His Torah or, perhaps, our very fight against the Hellenistic forces. And so we light indoors. This is quite different from a concern for other nations.25

    Rav Moshe Sternbuch offers another powerful approach: The fact that there have been times, like today, when we live in relative peace does not mean that we should abandon the protections needed by others today (e.g., Iran) or that we may need at some future time, lo alenu.26 He cites a number of proofs to such halachic thinking, and also reminds the reader of Rav Yisrael Salanter who, during a cholera outbreak on Yom Kippur, urged everyone to eat so that those sick would then certainly eat some- thing. We see from here that sometimes we all must sacrifice halachah’s

    “best practices” so that it can be preserved for everyone’s future.
    For example, the Chanukah following the pogrom of Simchas Torah 5784, I was asked by many people if they may light on their kitchen table instead of by the window. In galus, we should never act with certainty.

    A final approach is one that I have often suggested. In preparation for this chapter, I was delighted to discover that Rav Yeruchum Olshin suggests something similar.27, 28

    This approach requires some brief context. Rashi gives an example of what Chazal mean by a sakanah that allows or forces our lighting indoors: when the Persians did not allow anyone to light candles outside the Persian batei avodah zarah. The Bach expresses amazement at this example. That decree applied equally to non-Jews, so it could not have been describing a time of shmad (when Jews must risk their lives for any mitzvah or social value). How, then, can this be Rashi’s paradigm case? For such a severe situation, we would be halachically dissuaded from even lighting indoors.

    This Rashi also seems redundant. Do we even need an example of “a danger”? Why does Rashi feel he needs to share an example for some-

    thing that we can all sense? I would therefore suggest that this Rashi is seeking to provide us with something far deeper than a simple example. Chazal share that following the Churban Bayis Sheini, we nullified the celebratory days found in Megillas Taanis, as we can’t be celebrating every other week while mourning our exile.

    To this, the Gemara asks a stunning question: Why, then, do we still celebrate Chanukah? After all, Chanukah’s origin is found in this same text. The Gemara offers only one reason for keeping only Chanukah out of all the holidays in Megillas Taanis: the people have accepted Chanukah and its mitzvos.29

    Perhaps what the Gemara is suggesting is that along with remembering the neis of Chanukah during these days, we also recall the affection and sacrifice that Klal Yisrael had for this mitzvah. And, for this same reason, we light even when in danger, albeit indoors. Rav Olshin takes this idea even further: Because the menorah represents the light of Torah (which is perhaps why the klal did not wish to forgo these days), we are obligatedto risk our lives for it. All of this would explain why Rashi chose Persian times as the example of sakanah rather than examples from the times of the Gemara or in his own lifetime, for example, the Crusades of 1096 that he composed Selichos for. Our still lighting the menorah indoors today is a surreptitious memorial of such “indoor lighting sacrifice” in times of historic danger. We are also commemorating lighting the Chanukah candles indoors in times of danger, even though that original sakanah allows us to forfeit lighting completely.

    Our present lighting indoors represents not a leniency but a great act of stringency. Thus, our retaining the minhag of lighting indoors is not simply to avoid a danger that no longer exists; on the contrary, it is to recall such mesirus nefesh for this mitzvah in times of danger, when we lit inside even though we didn’t have to light at all.

    The Gemara states that because Jews have always risked their lives for milah, it will always be observed.30 Indeed, even today, the not-yet-frum, as well as the frum, largely perform brissim. Perhaps the similar sacrifice for our past Chanukah lighting in times of danger (even if indoors) is why Chanukah, too, is kept by so many of the non-observant today.31 According to Pew Research, while 56 percent of all American Jews own a Seder plate, 81 percent own a menorah!32

    The Minchas Elazar mentions that the B’nei Yissaschar had a glass encase- ment ready for when Mashiach will come and he can again light outside.33

    May we see that day soon.

    NOTES

    1. Note that even on Purim, in addition to its many other obligations, they initially wished to restrict all melachah; see Megillah 5b.
    2. Igros Moshe, Orach Chaim 5:43:2, confirmed firsthand with the original handwritten letter to Rav Levovitz, with whom I spoke. We should note that with this p’sak, Rav Moshe acknowledges that he disagrees with the Chafetz Chaim as recorded in Shaar Hatzion, siman 676:3. We should also point out that the Meiri to Shabbos 23b would seem to support the Chafetz Chaim. Meiri there records a view that if someone is without the ability to light a menorah, he may still make the She’asah Nissim and Shehecheyanu berachos during the days of Chanukah. Some readers may assume that having a Rishon say this would mean that Rav Moshe, had he been aware, would have acquiesced in his position. However, this is not so simple to suggest. For one, Meiri is simply recording what others have said, and perhaps even he disagreed. Second, just because one Rishon takes a view does not mean that other Rishonim would have consented. But number three is most crucial: Rav Moshe, in a separate teshuvah (coincidentally, also about something found in a newly discovered Meiri), makes clear that newly published Rishonim must be carefully considered before utilizing them for actual p’sak halachah. This is not due to these specific Rishonim themselves, of course, but rather to the lack of critical study of these manuscripts over generations, as well as uncertainty as to who the many copyists were for all these years.
    3. Shabbos 21b.
    4. Siman 671:5.
    5. Siman 672:2. On the oddity of the Rama waiting until here to make this comment and his initial silence, see Rav Elyashiv, below.
    6. Cf. Rav Ovadia Yosef in Chazon Ovadia, Chanukah, p. 37.
    7. See Shabbos 21b.
    8. See D’rashos Chasam Sofer, 5592, Chanukah; see also Rav Soloveitchik, as brought in V’Dibarta Bam, Chanukah, p. 113; Inside Chanukah, pp. 190–91.
    9. See Kuntres Chanukah U’Purim 3:3; Yerech L’Moadim p. 107; see, however, his views as brought by others below.
    10. Shu”t Kovetz Teshuvos 1:67, pp. 98–101.
    11. Igros Moshe, Orach Chaim, 4:125.
    12. The significance of a doorframe will be discussed below, in the chapter titled “Are Our Mezuzahs Kosher?,” page 134.
    13. Ohr Zaruah 133:2.
    14. Sefer Ha’itur, Aseres Hadibros, Chanukah 114:2.
    15. See also Shu”t Minchas Yitzchak 6:67.
    16. Kovetz Shulchan Melachim, Kislev, 5766; see Yerech L’Moadim, p. 112.
    17. See Darkei Moshe, siman 671:9.
    18. See Chidushei Anshei Shem to Berachos 38a.
    19. See, however, Orech L’Neir to the first Mishnah in Makkos; see also Shabbos 23a that lighting neir Chanukah is a fulfillment of the verse “lo sassur,” which may mean that while the lighting is Rabbinic in nature, its beautification can still be a Biblical fulfillment.
    20. Shabbos 21b.
    21. See, e.g., Aruch Hashulchan 671:24 as well as Moadim U’Zemanim, vol. 2, siman 140, n. 1; Cf. Shu”t Yaavetz 149, who allows, although does not urge, such encasements.
    22. Shu”t Imrei Noam 2:22.
    23. This sefer will be discussed at length in the chapters that begin on pages 50, 82, and 106.
    24. As brought in a footnote to Piskei Teshuvos, siman 671.
    25. This is not a concern of the past. Indeed, one of the most celebrated public intellectuals of the twentieth century, Christopher Hitchens (who was a Jew who found out about his Jewish background at the age of forty, when his mother was lying on her deathbed), once horribly wrote against, of all holidays, Chanukah, based on this very cynical outlook of fighting the Hellenists: Jewish orthodoxy possesses the interesting feature of naming and combating the idea of the apikoros or “Epicurean”—the intellectual renegade who prefers Athens to Jerusalem and the schools of philosophy to the grim old routines of the Torah…the Greek or Epicurean style had begun to gain immense ground among the Jews of Syria and Palestine. The Seleucid Empire, an inheritance of Alexander the Great—Alexander still being a popular name among Jews—had weaned many people away from the sacrifices, the circumcisions, the belief in a special relation- ship with G-d…I quote (from a contemporary rabbi), “Along with Greek science and military prowess came a whole culture that celebrated beauty both in art and in the human body, presented the world with the triumph of rational thought in the works of Plato and Aristotle, and rejoiced in the complexities of life presented in the theater of Aeschylus, Euripides, and Aristophanes.” But away with all that. Let us instead celebrate the Maccabean peasants who wanted to destroy Hellenism and restore what they actually call “old-time religion.” Thus, to celebrate Hanukkah is to celebrate the triumph of tribal Jewish backwardness. A celebrated atheist, Mr. Hitchens would often debate faith and challenge his interlocutors, asking what possible virtue would be lost without religion or what could be gained with it that would not already be obvious to him. Aside from the false premise of this question—as his present morals were so obviously relying on the remnants of religious culture from whose crumbs America and the Magna Carta were formed—the above paragraph regarding Chanukah best displays the nakedness of his challenge. I refer to the bias of seeing inherent honor in the “new” versus the old, of allowing the nebulous winds of time and the capriciousness behind how “the vogue” takes hold and the arbitrary nature of who is given the power to introduce it, and the mysterious sociological quirks behind which fashions capture a time or place. Absent the safety net of a moral identity, to be untethered to a constitution, is precisely what leads to his article—of judging virtue on modern dress rather than thoughtful design, believing righteousness is found in the avant-garde rather than antiquity, and in the assumption that the peasantry must be as poor on the inside as they are on the outside. All this is anathema to Yiddishkeit. Yet, its pull becomes alluring to those unmoored from it. Truth is neither “old time” or “new”; it is unaffected by “tribal” acceptance or “tribal” neglect. Virtue is unbothered by new styles or last year’s fashion. Rather, truth is and will always remain simply that: truth. Judged not by time, unchanged by those who fail to embrace its legitimacy, it endures unperturbed by physical phenomena and social cues. Emes is emes.
    26. Moadim U’Zemanim, vol. 2, siman 140, p. 79.
    27. Ibid., p. 543.
    28. We will quote his words below.
    29. As explained by Rashi ad loc.
    30. Shabbos 130a.
    31. See chapter below, “Why Is There No Yom Tov Sheni on Chanukah Outside of Israel,” where the Pri Chadash draws an additional milah-Chanukah connection.
    32. Pew Research Center, “Jewish Americans in 2020,” May 11, 2021, https://www.pewresearch. org/religion/2021/05/11/jewish-americans-in-2020/.
    33. Nemukei Orach Chaim.