Gaby's Gobbledygook

Saturday, September 30, 2006

From The Devil's Dictionary

Quill, n. An implement of torture yielded by a goose and commonly wielded by an ass. This use of the quill is now obsolete, but its modern equivalent, the steel pen, is wielded by the same everlasting Presence.

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"It's not quite finished."
"Is it quite started?"

- MF the Elder, SG, re. late assignment

Friday, September 29, 2006

Ephraim Stulberg on Ha'azinu, 5765: Ha'azinu Breakdown

This one is full of tables, and I don't know how to get them to appear properly on the blog. So if you want to read it, email me and I'll send it to you as a Word attachment. --He Who Must Not Be Named

From The Devil's Dictionary

Queen, n. A woman by whom the realm is ruled when there is a king, and through whom it is ruled when there is not.

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"We had some people who probably some penitentiaries would not accept."

- RBP, re. former students

Ephraim Stulberg on Ha'azinu, 5764

I’m not sure how many people will be reading this on Erev Rosh Hashanah, so I’ll keep things fairly concise. Ha-azinu is referred to as a “song” in a number of places (e.g. D’varim 32:44), and I simply want to know what this means.

Ha-azinu is divided into two parallel columns of text. It is thus different from the song sung by Moshe and Israel following their miraculous journey through the Sea of Reeds, which is written by alternating one line consisting of two small blocks of text separated by the space required for a “parasha s’tuma”, and one line consisting of one central block of text (see Responsa Ribash #286). The Song of D’vorah (Shoftim 5) is also written in this same alternating style. The Song of David (Sh’muel II 22) is the subject of some debate: see the comments of the Minchas Shai (ad loc.), in which he dismisses those who write it in two columns, like Ha-azinu, citing the gemara (Megillah 16b) which states that all songs are written in the alternating format, except for the list of kings conquered by Yehoshua and the ten sons of Haman. This is also the opinion of Rav Y.S. Elyashiv. (See Maseches Sof’rim Ch. 12.)

What is the significance of these textual structures? Why the differences? The gemara in Megillah explains that when we write the ten sons of Haman and the thirty-one kings smitten by Yehoshua in two columns, we mean to subtly express our hope that evildoers should not have a stable base in this world: that though they may seem to be solid and compact, they are in fact always on the verge of tottering and collapsing. In this manner, as the Ran explains in his novellae on Megillah, Ha-azinu is similar, in that it also deals with the eventual demise of the wicked; thus it, too, is written in double columns. Conversely, the songs of Moshe, D’vorah and David all deal with the ultimate triumph of the few over the many, the weak over the strong, the just over their oppressors. Though their basis seemed shaky at times, full of holes and gaps, in reality they were always on steady ground, having placed their futures securely in God's hands.

The same Ran also notes that there are in fact three, not two, types of structures for songs. There is the standard “leveina al gabbei ariach, ve- ariach al gabbei leveina” found in the songs of Moshe, D’vorah and David; there is the “ariach al gabbei ariach, u-l’veina al gabbei l’veina” of the ten sons of Haman; and then there is Ha’azinu, which has no “arichim” (i.e. smaller blocks) but simply two equally-sized columns of significant thickness, i.e. “l’veina al gabbei l’veina”. Perhaps one might suggest – contrary to what the Ran writes – that Ha-azinu is not a structure meant to “fall over” like the wicked kings of Canaan. It is a symmetrical structure, built on a solid, broad foundation. Its blocks of text are not interrupted in ungrammatical places, only at major stops (i.e. sof pasuk, esnachta, katon). It is a beautiful summary of the essence of the Torah, and of the history of the Jews, of their rebelliousness and their ultimate salvation. This is the story of the world as a whole, of the heavens and the earth mentioned at the beginning of the song and of their purpose. "Were it not for my covenant, day and night, I would not have founded heaven and earth", God tells the prophet, Yirmiah.

The gemara (Rosh Hashanah 31a) states that the Levites used to sing P’ Ha-azinu during the Mussaf offering of Shabbos. This would be divided into six sections, corresponding to the first six aliyos we will call on Shabbos, one section being read every Shabbos, on a cyclical basis. When the Torah calls Ha- azinu a song, it means precisely what it says. After singing throughout the week of the various days of the Genesis, recalling the various stages of Creation, the Levites sang on Shabbos of the totality of man’s existence, of the essential facts of reward and punishment in this world and the next which are the foundation of our existence. And thus we read P’ Ha-azinu this week, reminding ourselves during this most austere season of the Jewish calendar that life is solidly divided into two columns, and that the Auditor-General of Auditor-Generals is about to take us to task.

From Baseball Shorts

"Your life or mine?"

- Whitey Herzog, on being offered a lifetime contract by 80-year-old Cardinals owner Gussie Busch

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Uncle John's Lesson of the Day!

Top 5 causes of home accidents: stairs, glass doors, cutlery, jars, power tools (in that order).

Lord Denning on Cricket

One of the best parts of law school is getting to meet all kinds of fabulous new people.

Introducing Lord Dennning, perhaps the greatest of the British Law Lords.
You can always tell from his opening paragraph whether he favours the defendant or the plaintiff.

Here is Lord Denning on Miller v. Jackson:

In summertime village cricket is the delight of everyone. Nearly every village has its own cricket field where the young men play and the old men watch. In the village of Lintz in County Durham they have their own ground, where they have played these last 70 years. They tend it well. The wicket area is well rolled and mown. The outfield is kept short. It has a good club house for the players and seats for the onlookers. The village team play there on Saturdays and Sundays. They belong to a league, competing with the neighbouring villages. On other evenings after work they practise while the light lasts. Yet now after these 70 years a judge of the High Court has ordered that they must not play there any more. He has issued an injunction to stop them. He has done it at the instance of a newcomer who is no lover of cricket. This newcomer has built, or has had built for him, a house on the edge of the cricket ground which four years ago was a field where cattle grazed. The animals did not mind the cricket. But now this adjoining field has been turned into a housing estate. The newcomer bought one of the houses on the edge of the cricket ground. No doubt the open space was a selling point. Now he complains that when a batsman hits a six the ball has been known to land in his garden or on or near his house. His wife has got so upset about it that they always go out at week-ends. They do not go into the garden when cricket is being played. They say that this is intolerable. So they asked the judge to stop the cricket being played. And the judge, much against his will, has felt that he must order the cricket to be stopped: with the consequence, I suppose, that the Lintz Cricket Club will disappear. The cricket ground will be turned to some other use. I expect for more houses or a factory. The young men will turn to other things instead of cricket. The whole village will be much the poorer. And all this because of a newcomer who has just bought a house there next to the cricket ground.

Mazel Tov

To Rita Fixler and Shlomo Silver on their engagement. Mazel tov to the Tommies.

From The Devil's Dictionary

Pyrrhonism, n. An ancient philosophy, named for its inventor. It consisted of an absolute disbelief in everything but Pyrrhonism. Its modern professors have added that.

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"See what I mean?"
"What do you mean?"
"What you see."
"What do I see?"
"Mister Dragan."
"That's what you mean?"
"That's what you see."

- NH, TS, NH, TS, NH, TS, VD

From Baseball Shorts

"Bowie Kuhn is the best commissioner in baseball today."

- Jim Bouton

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Uncle John's Lesson of the Day!

Actors are called 'thespians' after Thespis, the Greek founder of theater.

Welcome to Coach Z

I'd like to welcome Coach Z to the Gobbledygook. It's great to have a current OTIer join the blog. Hope you enjoy your stay and don't get scared off by Anurag "Appoggiatura" Kashyap.

From Baseball Shorts

"This winter I'm working out every day, throwing at a wall. I'm 11-0 against the wall."

- Jim Bouton

What do u get when u play THIS backwards: www.shabse.com ?

You get the rebbe back i guess?


....but did he ever die?...im confused about this...so?...what happens? does the rebbe come back or not?!?

What do you get when u play country music backwards?

You get ur house back, u get ur wife back, u get ur car back...etc...

Help!

Anyone else having problems posting YouTube videos? Doesn't seem to be working anymore. Any suggestions?

From The Devil's Dictionary

Push, n. One of the two things mainly conducive to success, especially in politics. The other is Pull.

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"Doctor Rotcod"

- NH, causing DR to laugh uncontrollably

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"Hence the name."

- MF the Elder

From The Devil's Dictionary

Publish, v. In literary affairs, to become the fundamental element in a cone of critics.

Monday, September 25, 2006

From The Devil's Dictionary

Providential, adj. Unexpectedly and conspicuously beneficial to the person so describing it.

Mazel Tov

To Chana Esther Shaps on her Bat Mitzvah.

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"Nobody? This place is like a cemetery."

- RBP, re. no answer to question

Sunday, September 24, 2006

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"Youth has optimism. Age has wisdom and cynicism."

- JS Sr., revealing great truths of life

From The Devil's Dictionary

Primate, n. The head of a church, especially a State church supported by involuntary contributions. The Primate of England is the Archbishop of Canterbury, an amiable old gentleman, who occupies Lambeth Palace when living and Westminster Abbey when dead. He is commonly dead.

Friday, September 22, 2006

Ketiva Vachatima Tova to all

The world is a lesser place

Rabbi Aryeh Carmell - "The Englishman" - has passed away. We mourn his loss.

From The Devil's Dictionary

President, n. The leading figure in a small group of men of whom - and of whom only - it is positively known that immense numbers of their countrymen did not want any of them for President.

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"Yeah, you're about as shy and retiring as a tyrannosaurus rex."

- SG, to GS

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Ephraim Stulberg on Selihos, 5766

Mishnah Berurah (581:14) cites the opinion of Abudarham (Tefilas Ta’aniyos) that when reciting Selihos, the phrase “Vayiqra b’shem Hashem” is punctuated with a colon following the word “b’shem”. The phrase thus means: “And he called out with the name: ‘God!’ ” This reading is of course reflected in the ta’amei hamiqra, which place a tipha note under the word “b’shem” (Ex. 34:5). It follows from this subdivision of the phrase that “b’shem” is in fact “v’shem”, connected as it is to the open syllable at the end of “vayiqra”.

As Prof. Kogut points out, however, this is not the opinion of either Targum Onkelos or Rashi, both of whom interpret “Hashem” as a genitive rather than a vocative. “And he called out in the name of God”, they translate. Thus, when Abudarham writes that “most people err in this regard”, he is being somewhat uncharitable. The issue is essentially what degree of primacy to we give the ba’alei ha-ta’amim when it comes to liturgical matters outside of the narrow sphere of Torah reading. As Kogut shows throughout his book, in the realm of biblical exegesis, the commentaries are rather liberal in their disregard of the notes; nothing is to stand in the way of the true peshat. It is not so clear to me what the principle ought to be in this case, however.

A similar issue surrounds the very next verse in Exodus. “Vayya’avor Hashem al panav vayiqra Hashem Hashem…” The opinion of the Gaonim (as instanced in the Tafsir of Sa’adya Gaon) was that the first “Hashem” is the subject of “vayiqra” rather than its object; as such, it is not enumerated among the Thirteen Divine Attributes. Other authorities (Ibn Ezra, Rabbeinu Tam) disagreed.

There are several strands of reasoning behind the Gaonic opinion. From many accounts (Manhig, Abudarham), the Gaonim understood the paseiq notation between the two “Hashems” as implying a strong degree of interruption, a clear divide between the two names. (This also appears to have been the understanding of Rashi – see Gen. 18:21. But it is not a correct understanding.) And so it would follow, explains Abudarham, that the Hazan ought to say “Vayya’avor Hashem al panav, vayyiqra Hashem:” But this is not what we do, he adds.

All of which is to say that a little tolerance is surely in order, no matter how mangled we feel the Selihos to sometimes be.

Ephraim Stulberg on Rosh Hashanah, 5766: History of Lo AD"U Rosh

לא אד"ו ראש


“Sound the shofar in that month, the hidden one, for the day of our festival” (T’hillim 81:4): “What is the festival in which the moon is hidden? This is Rosh Hashana.”
(Rosha Hashana 8b).

There are basically two rules which are applied under the current calendrical regime in determining the proper day for Rosh Hashana. One of these is called מולד זקן, which holds that if the mean calculated molad of Tishrei is scheduled to occur later than 18 hours into a particular day, then Rosh Hashana is postponed. The second principle is known as לא אד"ו ראש; it says that Rosh Hashana can never begin on Saturday night, Tuesday night, or Thursday night. While there are a couple of other specialized rules – one of which, the rather ugly sounding בט"ו תקפ"ט, comes into play this year - they are confusing, and it would take too long to explain them. And so I won’t…Oh, fine, read this footnote.[1] At any rate, this essay attempts to sketch out the history of the principle לא אד"ו ראש according to the various classical commentaries.

At first glance, it would appear that the rule of לא אד"ו ראש did not always exist. There are countless Tannaic texts that presume calendrical occurrences which would be impossible according to our present-day system. We find Purim on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday (Megillah 2a), Pesach beginning on Friday (P’sachim 83a), Shavuos on Saturday (Hagigah 17a), Tisha B’Av on Friday (Eiruvin 41a), Yom Kippur on Friday and Sunday (Shabbos 114b), Hoshana Rabbah on Saturday (Sukkah 42b). All of these instances would involve Rosh Hashana occurring on one of the prohibited days.

The gemara (Sukkah 54b) accounts for these sorts of anomalies by explaining that they follow the opinion of the אחרים, who held that we don’t deviate from the mean molad calculations in order to have the festivals come out on certain dates; we pretty much alternate between 29 and 30-day months, in keeping with the roughly 29.5-day-long lunar orbit (see Rosh Hashana 20a, Arachin 9b). Whether or not the gemara thereby means to dismiss these texts as being unauthoritative and non-halachic, however, is open to question.

In several places (Sukkah 43b, Yerushalmi Megillah 1:2), the gemara explicitly states that the events described in the texts cited above cannot occur nowadays. Elsewhere (Yerushalmi Avodah Zarah 1:1), however, the gemara seems to imply that, at least during ancient times, it would indeed have been possible to have festivals fall out on the forbidden days.

As an aside, it is interesting to note that in two passages (Rosh Hashana 20a, Yerushalmi Megillah 1:2), only the rules regarding Yom Kippur not falling out on Friday or Sunday are listed; the rule seems to have been לא ד"ו ראש. In fact, from Yerushalmi Sukkah 4:1, it seems that not having Hoshanah Rabbah fall on Saturday (the "א"of לא אד"ו) was of lesser concern, on a similar level to the half-hearted attempt to avoid having Rosh Hashana fall out on Saturday and thus ensuring the occurrence of shofar-blowing on the first day.[2]

So what really happened? Did the rule of לא אד"ו always exist? If not, when was it invented, and for what purpose? What follows is a brief outline of the key opinions:

שאילתות דר' אחאי

The earliest authority to weigh in on our topic, albeit obliquely, is the שאילתות. In P’ Vayakhel (#67), it writes that although the mishnah mentions a case in which Purim occurs on Saturday, this was only in the period in which the Sages were expert in the true molad calculations and the “Secret of the Ibbur”; at that time, the correlation of Rosh Hodesh with the actual astronomical (or lunonomical?) molad (or some other celestial event) took priority over the convenience provided by לא אד"ו ראש. Moreover, in some ways לא אד"ו was unnecessary during that epoch; since the festivals were made to coincide with their true, proper “lunar date,”[3] the Sages did not wish to suspend the taking of the willow branches on Hoshana Rabbah even if it did happen to come out on Shabbos. After this knowledge passed from the Sages, writes the שאילתות, this close relationship between Rosh Hodesh and the astronomical new moon became impossible to maintain, and more priority was given to having the festivals occur on certain days; it was at that time that לא אד"ו ראש was inaugurated.

רס"ג/ר"ח

Rabbeinu Hananel, following the opinion of R’ Saadya Gaon, held that there had always been a fixed calendar, in which Rosh Hashana could never occur on Sunday, Wednesday, or Friday. When confronted with the various mishnayos that implied otherwise, he would dismiss them with one of several standard answers. He wrote that אחרים, that is R’ Meir, was not expert in the calendar-making process, and therefore erred in assuming that certain events were possible (see commentary on Sukkah 54b). When faced with testimony that such an event had actually occurred, he brushed it off, explaining that this only happened under irregular circumstances, when the usual rules were forced to be abandoned during a period of persecution (Sukkah 44a).[4]

Regarding the example of Tisha B’av on Friday, Rabbeinu Hananel adopted a different strategy. He wrote (Ta’anis 18b, cited in Tosafos on Eiruvin 41a) that this could not serve as a counterproof, since Tamuz of that year had contained 30 days, as opposed to the usual 29; to compensate for this, Av would have been one day shorter, and therefore although the 9th of Av was on Friday, Rosh Hashana would still have occurred on a permissible day (i.e. Saturday). Sometimes, suggested R’ Hananel, the tradition held that it was necessary to have two 29-day months consecutively.

Rav Saadya’s and R’ Hananel’s opinion has been the subject of much discussion, and most later authorities reject it out of hand as having been an essentially polemical stance designed to counteract the Karaite emphasis on the power of each locale to establish its own calendar, a belief that exists down to the present day.[5]

רמב"ם

The Rambam appears to have held that when there was still קדוש ע"פ ראייה, it was possible to have Yom Kippur fall out on Friday or Sunday (see Hilchos Shabbos 5:21, Hilchos Lulav 7:22, etc.); the rule of לא אד"ו ראש came only once the fixed calendar was introduced (see Hilchos Kiddush Ha-chodesh 7:7).

According to the Netziv’s understanding of the Rambam (Ha-amek She’alah 67:22), there were three epochs in the history of קדוש החדש. Prior to the dissolution of the Sanhedrin, there were no rules. Once the Sanhedrin was no more (late Tannaic period),[6] the general principles of our calendar were put in place to govern the performance of קדוש ע"פ ראייה, though they were applied every month, rather than for all of time; thus even according to the אחרים, as the Netziv proves from Sanhedrin (13a), once קדוש החדש was no longer invested with the authority of the Sanhedrin, one could afford to deviate from the molad calculation in determining Rosh Hodesh. Why this should have been the case, however, is not really made clear. Finally, once קדוש ע"פ ראייה was abandoned for good in (or following) the days of Abbaye and Rava, the rules remained in place, to be applied by each local community, rather than by the central court in Israel.
Most other commentaries do not adopt such a nuanced approach as the Netziv’s, and differentiate solely between ע"פ ראייה and ע"פ חשבון (see Tashbetz I:135, 136).

רש"י

Rashi writes explicitly that during the period in which the moon was sanctified through witnesses, there was never any rule of לא בד"ו פסח (see P’sachim 58b). From this comment, we cannot infer that Rashi felt the same way about the rules governing Rosh Hashana; it could be that between Pesach and Rosh Hashana, an extra day would be added or subtracted in order to allow Rosh Hashana to land on its proper day. The same argument holds true regarding the statement of Ra’avyah vis a vis Tisha B’av on Friday (Hilchos Ta’anis #872).

From other places (e.g. Rosh Hashana 19b), however, it does appear that Rashi held that when the new month was still sanctified through the testimony of witnesses, there were no fixed rules even for Rosh Hashana.

תוס'

Tosafos held that even when there was still קדוש ע"פ ראייה, measures were taken to ensure Yom Kippur did not fall out adjacent to Shabbos (Rosh Hashana 19b, P’sachim 58b).

When we examine all these opinions, we find two basic points of view concerning the rule of לא אד"ו ראש. In spite of the gemara’s statement that the rule was enacted so as to prevent Yom Kippur from occurring adjacent to Shabbos, and thus ensure the freshness of our vegetables and allow us to bury our dead before they decompose, both the Rambam (Hilchos Kiddush Ha-chodesh 7:7) and Rabbeinu Hananel (Rosh Hashana 20a) write that these are only superficial side-benefits; the real reason our calendar is structured the way we have it is to ensure that Rosh Hashana corresponds to specific astronomical events. In short, לא אד"ו ראש is a measure designed to increase precision.

The opinion of the שאילתות, conversely, holds that לא אד"ו ראש began only once precision was no longer possible. He seems to hold, as did Ra’avad in his notes on the Rambam’s halacha (7:7), that the reason for these דחיות is indeed the one mentioned in the gemara, one of convenience.

The Rambam’s opinion in this matter has garnered considerable attention, and several attempts have been made to explain his words. Here’s what he says:

מפני מה אין קובעין בחשבון זה בימי אד"ו? לפי שהחשבון הזה הוא לקיבוץ הירח והשמש בהלוכה האמצעי לא במקום האמיתי כמו שהודענו, לפיכך עשו יום קביעה ויום דחייה כדי לפגוע ביום הקבוץ האמיתי. כיצד? בשלישי קובעין, ברביעי דוחין, בחמישי קובעין, בששי דוחין, בשבת קובעין, באחד בשבת דוחין, בשני קובעין.

Many bad explanations have been given for these enigmatic words.[7] R’ Zalman Menachem Koren, in his article "מבוא לחשבונות ראיית הלבנה"[8], cites a number of works that understand the Rambam as meaning that, thanks to the rule of לא אד"ו ראש, the first appearance of the new moon will occur sometime on Rosh Hashana itself.[9] As well, it pretty much guarantees that the true lunar conjunction will occur before Rosh Hodesh of every month;[10] it would look pretty ridiculous if Rosh Hodesh were observed while the old moon were still visible! The days אד"ו were chosen not because of any intrinsic scientific characteristics they might possess, but simply because they created the side-benefits listed in the gemara.


[1] Basically, given the molad for Tishrei this year (I’m not sure when exactly, but it’s less than three hours before midday on Monday), Rosh Hashana should have been on Monday this year, not Tuesday. But because the molad of last year was a little bit after midday on Tuesday, thus necessitating the postponement of Rosh Hashana to Thursday, if we had kept Rosh Hashana of this year on Monday, that would have involved having a leap year consisting of only 382 days, which is not a permitted year length under our system. Simple.
The other one, ג' ט' ר"ד, is similar. If the molad for Tishrei of a non-leap year occurs on Tuesday, after 9 hours and 204/1080 of an hour into the day but before noon, if not for this special rule requiring us to push off Rosh Hashana till Thursday, we would have observed Rosh Hashana on Tuesday, and thus been required to have a 356-day year, which is also not permissible.

[2] The gemara reads: “R’ Simon commanded those who would calculate [the calendar]: ‘Make sure you give consideration such that the shofar-blowing should not occur on Shabbos, and the willow-taking should not occur on Shabbos; and if it is impossible to ensure both, then allow the blowing [to be on Shabbos], not the willow.’” Such a choice between the two possibilities would arise if the 29th of Elul were a Friday. In order to ensure that neither occurred, one would have to begin to adjust the usual month lengths well beforehand.

[3] Though this idea of a “natural date” sounds a bit funny, there is actually a reference to it in the Talmud. See Rosh Hashana 20a. Although the calendar is ultimately subject to human dominion, the Talmud clearly believes that some calendrical outcomes are more nature-based and less artificial than others.

[4] The Netziv writes that according to R’ Saadya, if the court decided to abandon the traditional calculations, that was their prerogative. In Responsa Tashbetz (I:135), R’ Shimon ben Zemach Duran writes that even R’ Saadya would agree that if the moon were clearly visible, Rosh Hodesh could not be postponed till the next day, even if otherwise dictated by the calculations.

[5] See Rav Hai Gaon in Otzar Ha-Geonim (Beitzah 4b), Rambam Commentary on the Mishnah (Rosh Hashana 2:7 , M’nachos 11:7), R’ Yehuda Ha-yisraeli, Yesod Olam (4:6), Responsa Tashbetz (I:135).

[6] It is unclear how the Netziv defines the term Sanhedrin. In Rosh Hashana (31b), it seems there was a body called “Sanhedrin” as late as Rabbi’s times.

[7] See the works cited in ר' יוסף זוסמאנאוויץ, תרועת מלך (סימן מ"ה). I have not been able to understand the author’s own answer.

[8] Published in volume II of the new edition of כפתור ופרח, p. 489.

[9] See the charts in ר' משה סגל, מגיד הרקיע, עמ' 137-141.

[10] See the article by יצחן סטרוד in תחומין (כרך ט"ו).

From The Devil's Dictionary

Presentable, adj. Hideously appareled after the manner of time and place.

In Boorioboola-Gha a man is presentable on occasions of ceremony if he have his abdomen painted a bright blue and wear a cow's tail; in New York he may, if it please him, omit the paint, but after sunset he must wear two tails made of the wool of a sheep and dyed black.

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"Good book?"
"Yeah. The movie's better."

- DS, MF the Younger, re. Gemara

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"He's a nice boy - Moshe Binyomin. We'd like to see him here more, but it's not really his fault."

- RBP

From The Devil's Dictionary

Present, n. That part of eternity dividing the domain of disappointment from the realm of hope.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Ephraim Stulberg on Rosh Hashanah, 5766

The gemara (Rosh Hashana 16b) tells us that on Rosh Hashana, there are three type of decrees issued. The completely righteous are inscribed for life, the utterly wicked condemned to death, and everyone else gets pushed off until Yom Kippur.

The obvious difficulty with this statement, of course, is that we find many righteous people who suffer and die every year, while many villains prosper. What then does the gemara mean? Tosafos cryptically explain that the life and death referred to by the gemara refer to the World to Come, where, to be sure, the good are rewarded and the evil punished. This is also very strange, however, for does it not preclude the possibility of repentance during the year? Surely our status in the World to Come is susceptible to alteration throughout the year.

Tosafos Ha-rosh elaborates on Tosafos’ answer. He explains that there is a principle which states that the good suffer in this world to atone for any sins they might have, so that they might receive their full reward in the next, while the reverse is true for the wicked: they benefit from the meritorious acts now so that they will get their just desserts in the World to Come. On Rosh Hashana, we are judged on whether or not we are righteous, and consequently whether we ought to suffer or prosper during the coming year, whether it is our mitzvos or aveiros for which we should be compensated in this world. This status, once determined, is frozen throughout the year; it is in this sense that Rosh Hashana is a deadline of sorts.

We find a similar idea expressed in the midrash. The Torah writes: “And Hanoch walked with God; and he was no more, for God had taken him.” The Midrash Rabbah (B’reishis Rabbah 25:1) explains that Hanoch was a good man, but prone to wavering in his faith. Therefore, God decided to remove him from this world while he was still good. R’ Aivu adds that this verdict was passed on Rosh Hashana, when the fates of all men are determined. Thus we see that a righteous man was condemned to death on Rosh Hashana precisely because at that point, he was righteous, and thus “merited” such a verdict.

May we all merit to be counted among the completely righteous, and have no need for any purgatory suffering this coming year. Le-shanah tovah tikaseivu ve-seichaseimu.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Ephraim Stulberg on Rosh Hashanah, 5765

I asked my wife for a topic for this Rosh Hashanah email, and she immediately told me: “Do the simanim!” And so, being the good husband that I am, I have endeavoured to oblige her request, and have attempted to clarify a few of the more important and interesting issues concerning the symbolic foods consumed – or at least put on display - on Rosh Hashanah.

The source for all the madness is a statement of Abbaye’s (Horayos 12a, Karaysos 6a), in which he observed that “now that we have established that signs are of significance (“simana milsa hi”), a person ought to eat pumpkin, fenugreek, leeks, beets, and dates on Rosh Hashana.” This custom is recorded (appropriately enough!) in the Shulchan Aruch (O.C. 583:1-2).

There is a variant version of Abbaye’s statement, in which the phrase “to eat” is replaced by “to look at”. This is how the gemara appears in Horayos, and it is something of an open question as to why the halachic authorities have chosen to prioritize one version of the text over the other (see Abudarham, however, citing the custom of the Ga’onim, who seem not to have eaten the foods, but merely held them up to say the “yehi ratzon”). Certainly, there are some foods which we would all be better off merely gazing at.

The truth is that the list of foods that appears in the gemara consists of two categories. As Rashi explains in his commentary on Karaysos, some of the foods are notable for their rapid rate of growth, while others are sweet. Clearly, the sweetness of a food must be experienced by tasting it – this accounts for the version which says we ought “to eat” the foods. But the growth rate of a vegetable is no more discernible if one consumes it; indeed, quite the opposite is achieved, as the food is decreased in size with every bite. Thus perhaps one might argue that for the less-tasty foods on the list, the gemara tells us merely “to look at them”, contemplating their prodigious powers of self-generation. Both versions of the gemara are thus correct, and the overall message seems to be that if one enjoys the symbolic foods, then one should eat them; if not, then merely stare hard at them without making disparaging comments. While my reasoning may not be entirely water-proof, surely no one will dispute my conclusions.

What exactly do we mean to accomplish with these foods? This is an important question. R’ Shlomo Kluger, in his notes on the Shulchan Aruch, explains that the Yehi Ratzon we make is not meant as a prayer, but rather as a way of expressing to ourselves our fervent belief that this year will indeed be a good one. This is the real meaning of the phrase “simana milsa hi”, a notion which is thus distinct from the sorts of omens and harbingers which come under the prohibition of “lo se-nachashu”, as Me’iri points out in his notes on Horayos 12a. These foods are not predictors of our future year, but rather meant to awaken within ourselves a desire to affect our own destiny, calling us to repent in order that we be inscribed for life. Thus, explains Me’iri, when we ask that those who hate us be cut off “she-yikareisu son’einu”, it does not refer to Palestinians, as some might suggest, but rather to our own evil inclination.

(BTW, Maharsha (Horayos 12a) suggests that the prohibition of “lo s’nachashu” does not apply when we interpret the omen for good; thus, there is no problem with the custom of eating these foods on Rosh Hashanah. I am not aware that any of the Rishonim make this distinction, however, and it sounds very strange to me. Check it out.)

Before concluding, I would be remiss were I not to mention the words of the Chayei Adam (139:6). He warns that if one chooses to make a big deal out of all the symbolic foods, which are after all only symbols, of no intrinsic significance, then it is doubly crucial that one not become angry or upset during Rosh Hashanah, since doing so, in addition to being a grievous sin in itself, tantamount to idol worship (Nedarim 22b), is surely a bad omen and an inauspicious way to usher in the new year. No doubt the Chayei Adam had seen more that one battle waged over the relative merits of black-eyed peas in his day.

And so let me end by wishing everyone – both those who prefer merely to look at the simanim and those who actually venture to eat them (head of lamb in honey? See Hagahos Ashiri on Rosh Hashanah Ch.1) - a New Year full of peace and prosperity, of sweetness and growth, honey and fenugreek.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

From The Devil's Dictionary

Prescription, n. A physician's guess at what will best prolong the situation with least harm to the patient.

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"It's so soccer."

- DR

Saturday, September 16, 2006

FKM and I

I'm doing this without a hyperlink this time. Some of you may be interested in reading an ongoing discussion between me and the blogger known as "Freelance Kiruv Maniac" in the comments on one of his recent posts, at fkmaniac.blogspot.com/2006/09/slifkins-sources-i.html.

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"You want a proof that Avraham wore a kippah? It says 'Vayetze Avraham'. Avraham would have gone out without a kippah?"

- RBC

From The Devil's Dictionary

Prerogative, n. A sovereign's right to do wrong.

Ephraim Stulberg on Vayeilech, 5765-6: Hakhel - Whose Mitzvah?

Several weeks ago (P’ Shoftim), in discussing the status of the Jewish king, I mentioned some of the commandments in which he is obligated: he may not have too many wives, too many horses, or too much money, and he must write a Torah Scroll from which to read.

There is another commandment not mentioned in P’ Shoftim that also pertains to the Jewish monarch. In this week’s reading (D’varim 31:10-13), Moshe tells the people of an obligation to gather the nation periodically, once every post-Sabbatical year, in order that they be read to from various passages. In the Torah’s fifth and final book, D’varim. This mitzvah, known as “Hakhel” (the term is used as a rubric for the mitzvah in the Mechilta – see Chagigah 3a), is described only briefly in the Talmud. The final mishnah in the seventh chapter of Tractate Sotah describes the procedure for the reading of what it calls “Parashas Ha-melech”; the corresponding sections of the Babylonian and Palestinian Talmuds are relatively brief, leaving much unexplained.

There are two issues which positively cry out for elaboration. The first concerns the nature of the mitzvah, and the identity of those called upon to perform it. Is it the people who are individually obligated to come and listen, while the king and other officiants are merely the vehicles through which each person fulfills his or her duty? Or is it rather the king and other public figures, such as the Sanhedrin, who are responsible for ensuring attendance, while the masses play an essentially passive role? Or perhaps a combination of the two?

The second question involves the necessity of the king. The mishnah takes for granted that it is a king who is to read these passages, although there is no reference to him anywhere in our parasha. In P’ Shoftim, the king is commanded to write a Torah Scroll; the Sifrei understands this duty as being related to his future need to read from that scroll in front of the masses. Whether or not this implies that only a king can perform this role is open to question.

In order to resolve these issues, let’s examine the Torah’s text and see if we can find any indications. Verse 9 tells us that Moshe wrote the Torah and handed it over to the Priests, the Levites, and the Elders. Verse 10 then informs us that Moshe commanded “them” regarding the commandment of Hakhel. This pluralized object of verse 10 stands in contrast with the singular verb, “tiqra” (“you shall read”), in verse 11.

Both R. Yitzchak Abravanel and the Netziv remark upon this switch. Abravanel writes that the mitzvah is incumbent upon the whole nation (verse 10), specifically the spiritual leadership of the Jewish people – the Priests, Levites, and Elders; however, only the highest ranking of them can read it, since it would be impossible for more than one person to read at a time (verse 11). He notes that we find other instances in which the king was responsible for the organization of communal commandments, such as the administering of the blessings and curses at Mounts G’rizim and Eival. Netziv, in his Ha’amek Davar, explains that since the mitzvah was given to the general leadership (verse 10, in a time when no king was available the mitzvah would devolve upon the High Priest or some other national functionary.

There is an important difference between these two opinions, however. The Netziv held that the choice of the king to lead the Hakhel service was simply the selection of one individual among many candidates; there is no indication that a monarch represents a sine qua non in the performance of the mitzvah. This is also the opinion of the Tiferes Yisrael in his commentary on Sotah (7:8) and Minchas Chinuch (612:2).

Abravanel, on the other hand, seems to attach special relevance to the king. He writes that the choice of the king as the people’s representative is significant: “It follows necessarily from this that the reader should be a single individual, the greatest in the nation, that being the king. Because the king…is the soul of the national collective, and when he reads, all of Israel reads.” The king represents a unique solution to the apparent contradiction between the plural noun of verse 10 and the singular verb of verse 11. Rabbeinu Bachye also reads mystical significance into the king’s role in the Hakhel ceremony. Taking a kabbalistic slant, he explains that standing before the king at the beginning of the eighth year is microcosmic of our eventual placement before God in the transcendental period following the end of time as we know it. Or something like that.

Other authorities (Chizkuni, Tosafos Yom Tov) stress the fact that this commandment was given specifically to Yehoshua; he is the “you” in the imperative “You shall read”, and since he was a king – see our email from P’ Shoftim – so too must be all future readers of Hakhel. I find this unconvincing, as it fails to take into account the contradiction noted above.

So far, we have stressed the idea of Hakhel as a mitzvah for the ruling class. Was there any Divine obligation for the masses to attend the service? This is not the impression one gets from the Rambam’s presentation (Sefer Hamitzvos, Positive Commandment #16; Hilchos Chagigah 3:1), and indeed, in reading the verses that discuss the commandment, one would be hard-pressed to find any indication of such a responsibility. However, from the gemara, it appears that showing up for Hakhel was indeed an active mitzvah on the part of the masses (see Chagigah 3a, and esp. Kiddushin 34b, where a woman’s obligation in Hakhel is contrasted with her obligation to rejoice on the festivals, which is defined as being the ultimate responsibility of her husband). See also the comments of To’afos Re’em on Sefer Y’re’im #433, who notes the dual character of the mtizvah.

Though this mitzvah is no longer applicable nowadays – for a number of reasons – let us nonetheless use these intermediate days between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippurim to realize a true fear of God’s majesty (see Malbim), and to appreciate the splendour of His Torah (Targum Yerushalmi).

Ephraim Stulberg on Nitzavim, 5765: Divine Revelation and the Halachic Process

Towards the end of this week’s parasha, Moshe explains to the Jews that their task is really not as difficult as it might appear, warnings of fire and brimstone notwithstanding. “For this commandment, which I command you today, is not separate from you, nor is it far away. It is not in Heaven, that it might be said: “Who will go up to Heaven for us, and take it for us, that we should hear it and do it” (D’varim 30:11-12). The main meaning of this verse, as Sforno explains, is that the commandment of repentance, referred to at the end of the preceding verse, is within our grasp: surely an appropriate theme for this time of year.

There is another, more popularly known interpretation to these verses. “It is not in Heaven” means that, once God revealed His will to Moshe Rabbeinu, as expressed in the Oral and Written Torahs, no new laws will be derived through revelation. “Moshe told them: ‘You should not think that another Moshe will stand up and bring us another Torah from Heaven. For I say to you, ‘It is not in Heaven’: that none of it remains in Heaven” (D’varim Rabbah 8:6; cp. Targum Yerushalmi (b) on our verse). Not only will no new laws be introduced through the medium of prophecy, but even old laws that, for whatever reason, have been forgotten, will never be reinstated by a seer (see T’murah 16a). Likewise, it is from this verse that we derive the rule “We do not regard the Heavenly Voice” when it comes to matters of halacha (Bava Metzia 59b).

Rambam adds an interesting twist to this discussion. Since we know that Divine intervention is impossible when it comes to halachic matters, anyone who comes along and claims that it is the Divine Will that the halacha be changed, or that the halacha be decided according to a particular rabbi’s opinion, he is deemed a false prophet, and is subject to the punishment of death by strangulation (Hilchos Yesodei Ha-torah 9:1,4).

Of course, this is precisely what happened in the famous incident of the “Achnai Oven”, in which R’ Eliezer invoked all sorts of miracles, including a Heavenly Voice, to prove that his view was the correct one (Bava Metzia 59b). The implication of that story has always seemed to be that R’ Eliezer sinned only by being so intractable in his opposition to the majority opinion – in his novellae, Ramban compares him to the Rebellious Elder, implying that if he had lived in earlier times, he would have been executed for his intemperance. But no one, to my knowledge, suggests that R’ Eliezer sinned grievously by invoking Heavenly proofs for his halachic view.

It must be that when Rambam says that one is given death for making claims of Divine approval of a halacha, it is not because of the specific nature of the claims per se; rather, it is because the very notion that God can alter the halacha runs counter to our belief system, and therefore, presumably, the man must be lying about his supposed Divine communication; he must be a false prophet. Because his words are manifestly untrue, he is killed. However, in our particular case, having themselves heard with their own ears that God sided with R’ Eliezer, his opponents were hardly in a position to call him a false prophet.

Of course, one might ask, if in fact the incident of the Achnai Oven illustrates a case in which God did indeed intervene in halachic affairs, how can it be that someone else who makes such a claim of Divine favour is automatically assumed to be lying? I have no answer.

At any rate, the Rambam’s law is itself by no means unanimous. R’ Eliezer clearly held that there was some validity in the pronouncement of the Heavenly Voice; moreover, even R’ Yehoshua, who downplayed the importance of the Voice in that particular incident, held that when such a Voice comes not to overturn such a well-established principle as majority rule, but merely to decide between two evenly matched parties, it is decisive (Tosafos on B’rachos 52a). The Rambam seems to decide in favour of a third opinion, which held that a Voice is never a legitimate piece of halachic evidence; his basis for deciding in favour of this third view is questionable. (See Ch. 1 of R’ Tzvi Hirsch Chajes’ Toras Ha-n’vi’im.) Indeed, Tosafos argue with him, deciding the halacha in accordance with R’ Yehoshua’s stance.

Ephraim Stulberg on Nitzavim-Vayeilech, 5764

Since we will not be reading P' Va-yeilech at all next year (5765), I figured I'd devote my attentions more to that parasha this week. All you Nitzavim- lovers will have to wait til next year!

At the beginning of the second half of this week’s doubleheader, Moshe states that “I am 120 years old today” (D’varim 31:2). Our Sages derive from here that it is typical for God to grant the righteous a lifespan consisting of a whole number of years: “God completes the years of the righteous, from day to day and from month to month.” Generally, this concept is used to deduce the fact that since Moshe died on 7 Adar – a fact which is deducible from the end of Sefer D’varim and the first few chapters of Sefer Yehoshua (see Kiddushin 38a) – he must also have been born on that date, 120 years earlier.

(We see also from here that it is erroneous to suggest that Moshe actually lived on 119 years and one day, and that the 120 tally is derived from the concept of “one day in a year is counted as a year” (Rosh Hashannah 2b). If this were the case, it would make little sense to say that God “completed” Moshe’s years from day to day, since in reality he only lived a small fraction of his final year. The rule that “one day in a year is counted as a year” is not a universally applicable one, and for certain things, such as Bar or Bas Mitzvah, we employ a standard of “mei’eis le-eis” (see Tosafos on Rosh Hashannah 10a). It is clear that Moshe lived 120 complete years. And while it does seem from the gemara at the beginning of Maseches Rosh Hashannah that the years of kings do enjoy this advantage of “one day in a year is counted as a year”, that is not what we are talking about here, for those years always begin on the first of Nissan. Our concern is rather with the personal tally of Moshe’s years.)

I’m sure most people are fairly familiar with these dates. These are the dates given for Moshe in Seder Olam (Ch. 10). This is his Yahrtzeit date as described in Shulchan Aruch (O.C. 580:2). But the truth is that Moshe’s death is surrounded in a bit more controversy that you might believe.

In the Mechilta (Be-shalach, P’ Va-yasa, Ch. 6), R’ Yehoshua and R’ Eliezer argue about how long the Jews continued eating the mannah after Moshe’s death. Both agree that they stopped eating it on the 16th of Nissan, just days after they crossed the Jordan. R’ Yehoshua feels that Moshe died on 7 Adar, and that the year was a non-leap year: so that makes for a total of 40 days after Moshe’s death, 24 from Adar and 16 from Nissan. R’ Eliezer says that it was actually 70 days, because Moshe died in Adar I of a leap year: 24 days from Adar I, 30 from Adar II, and 16 from Nissan gives him his tally. (Interesting how both sages have Adar with 30 days, always.)

In the Yalkut Shimoni (Torah, #261), this argument appears in a slightly different form. There, it is R’ Elazar Ha-Moda’i who says that Moshe died on 7 Adar I, while R’ Eliezer says that it was 7 Sh’vat, and that the year was a non-leap year. Thus we have three possible dates for Moshe’s death:

1) 7 Sh’vat
2) 7 Adar
3) 7 Adar I

Concerning Moshe’s birthday, there is also a dispute among the Sages. In Sotah (12b), there is a difference of opinion over the date on which Moshe was placed in the river by his parents. One sage says it occurred on 21 Nissan, while another states that it happened on 6 Sivan. Counting backwards from those dates by three months, the amount of time Yocheved was able to hide her son, one gets to around 7 Adar only according to the second opinion. But from 21 Nissan, how does it work out, asks the gemara? It replies that according to this opinion, Moshe was born on 7 Adar I, and so one gets to around three months that way (24 + 30 + 21 days). Thus we have two opinions on when Moshe was born:

1) 7 Adar 2) 7 Adar I

I would suggest that the opinions of R’ Elazar Ha-Moda’i and R’ Eliezer, cited in the Yalkut, are based on the premise that Moshe was placed in the reeds on 21 Nissan, and was therefore born on 7 Adar I. Their opinions would seem to fit very poorly with the events described in the beginning of Sefer Yehoshua, and the simple chronology described in Kiddushin 38a – 30 days of mourning for Moshe, three days of preparation, and then crossing the Jordan on 10 Nissan – makes it difficult to understand why they would reject R’ Yehoshua’s opinion. It strikes me, therefore, that both of these sages felt that Moshe was born in Adar I, an idea necessitated by the assumption of his being taken from the reeds on 21 Nissan, as well as by the axiom that he must have been born on a 7 Adar of some sort. For an explanation of why R’ Eliezer says that Moshe died on 7 Sh’vat, though he was born on 7 Adar I, I would invite people to examine the comments of Rashi on Rosh Hashannah 15a (D”H “Hay’sa shanah me’uberes”). Apparently, in some regards one can see Adar I of a leap year as being identical with Sh’vat of a non-leap year.

(BTW, now we can also understand the seemingly redundant phrase of the gemara when it says that “God completes the years of the righteous, from day to day and from month to month.” The words “from month to month” come to tell us that the years of the righteous are not counted as twelve month periods, but rather go “mei’eis le-eis”, from date to date. This is opposed to the opinion of R’ Eliezer.)

Now this is not exactly a trivial point. There is a custom recorded in Shulchan Aruch to fast on 7 Adar, the Yahrtzeit of Moshe Rabbeinu (580:2). So what does one do in a leap year? Which day does one fast on? (I am told that Hassidim have a custom not to say Tachanun on this day as well, though I know of no source for this. But the same question applies, I guess.)

Magen Avraham (580:8) cites several authorities who state that we fast in Adar I, even though the gemara in Kiddushin (38a) seems quite clearly to imply that Moshe did not die in Adar I – indeed, if he did die in a leap year, it would have had to have been in Adar II. In an attempt to justify the custom, he concludes by citing the Yalkut we mentioned above, in which an opinion is expressed that Moshe indeed died in Adar I.

As is well known, there is an argument between the Mechaber and Rema (O.C. 568:7) regarding the Yahrtzeit observance of someone who dies in Adar of a non-leap year. The former says we fast in Adar II, the latter says Adar I. Accordingly, it seems clear that for Ashkenazim, the correct course of action would be to fast in Adar I, since there would seem to be no one explicitly on the record stating that Moshe died in Adar II. Even R’ Yehoshua, who says that there were only 40 days between Moshe’s death and the final eating of the mannah on 16 Nissan, states that “we count 24 days from Adar Rishon.” He is clearly calling it “Rishon” to let us know that Moshe didn’t die in Adar II; in other words, it was the only Adar of the year.

For Sepharadim, it would probably make sense to fast only in Adar II, since the gemara seems to follow the opinion of Seder Olam, that Moshe did not die in Adar I.

Ephraim Stulberg on Nitzavim-Vayeilech, 5766: Hakhel in Modern Times

Recently, I've taken up the task of looking into the writings of RavHerzog, the first Chief Ashkenazic Rabbi of the State of Israel. Though he did not publish much during his very busy lifetime, much ofhis Torah has been printed posthumously. In the second volume of his Responsa and Collected Writings (or some such title) he devotes an essay to exploring the possibility of renewing the Hakhel ceremony in modern times. The essay was written while he was CHief Rabbi, but prior to the founding of the State. The major portion of the piece is devoted to an analysis of whether Hakhel must take place right after Yom Tov; if so, argued unnamed (Hareidi) rabbis, then there arises the problem of potentially causing non-Orthodox Jews to violate Yom TOv in order to travel to the event. In the end, Rav Herzog rules that there is no such requirement, and he in fact makes a recommendation that a Hakhel ceremony take place, in which the leading rabbis of the Yishuv would gather to address the masses at the Kotel. He emphasizes the need for circumspection, lest the Mandatory authorities view it as a call for a revolution. At any rate, while I did not find the Torah content of the memo particularly inspiring - though possessing a Phd., Rav Herzog's Torah tends, from what I've read, to be fairly traditional, with an emphasis on multilayered sevarot but without the all-clarifying Brisk conceptualization - it is very interesting as a historical piece. The Chief Rabbi also mentions something about the desire of Rav Kook, his predecessor as Chief Rabbi, to arrange something of the sort. I'd love to know more about this idea, and if it has achieved any currency in more modern times.

Friday, September 15, 2006

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"כל העולם כולו גשר צר מאד והעיקר שלא לפחד כלל."

- RBP

From The Devil's Dictionary

Prejudice, n. A vagrant opinion without visible means of support.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

For Those of You Who Are Interested,

Rabbi Slifkin has posted a scan of Rabbi Aryeh Carmell's reiteration of his approbation for Rabbi Slifkin's books. It is available at http://www.zootorah.com/books/RavCarmell.pdf.

From Baseball Shorts

"They're going to have to hang a bell around one of their necks."

- Larry Haney, after Brian Downing and Gary Pettis collided twice in 4 days

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"No, I'm just writing on the board for the fun of it, Mr. Question."

- EM

From The Devil's Dictionary

Prehistoric, adj. Belonging to an early period and a museum. Antedating the art and practice of perpetuating falsehood.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"Gallium has a low melting point; gallium will melt in your hand, not in your mouth."

- SG

From The Devil's Dictionary

Pre-existence, n. An unnoted factor in creation.

Monday, September 11, 2006

Photoshop 2x03

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Heard the Latest Big Jew News?

See this article, for example. Although I suppose it's old news by now for people who live in more "happening" places or who spend more time than I surfing the J-web.

Unscramble This!!! Continues with Round #53

Amazingly enough Unscramble This!!! is still being played.

Photoshop 2x02

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"It's all done with mirrors."

- RBC

From The Devil's Dictionary

Predestination, n. The doctrine that all things occur according to programme. This doctrine should not be confused with that of foreordination, which means that all things are programmed, but does not affirm their occurrence, that being only an implication from other doctrines by which this is entailed. The difference is great enough to have deluged Christendom with ink, to say nothing of the gore. With the distinction of the two doctrines kept well in mind, and a reverent belief in both, one may hope to escape perdition if spared.

Rabbeinu Tam, the Rosh and Rabbi Yom Tov Lipmann Heller (Tosfos Yom Tov and Pilpula Charifta) on the Reliability of Sefer Halachot Gedolot (Bahag)

The second source at http://www.zootorah.com/controversy/ravfrank.html was discovered by Smallpie, and translated and forwarded by HWMNBN (that is, me).

Saturday, September 09, 2006

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"Bernard Methane, the armoured banana, took his vitamins."

- EA, reading from board in British accent

From The Devil's Dictionary

Precedent, n. In Law, a previous decision, rule or practice which, in the absence of a definite statute, has whatever force and authority a Judge may choose to give it, thereby greatly simplifying his task of doing as he pleases. As there are precedents for everything, he has only to ignore those that make against his interest and accentuate those in the line of his desire. Invention of the precedent elevates the trial-at-law from the low estate of a fortuitous ordeal to the noble attitude of a dirigible arbitrament.

Ephraim Stulberg on Ki Tavo, 5766

The language of the Deuteronomic “Tokaha” is much more violent and graphic than that of the much shorter version found in Leviticus. The basic gist is, however, at least ostensibly quite similar.

The one difference appears to be the conclusion. In Leviticus, the curses are followed by a promise that God will nevertheless always keep His covenant with the Patriarchs, and will never allow His people to be utterly annihilated. This sort of covenant is never mentioned in Deuteronomy. And the question is: Why not?

The conclusion of the Deuteronomic curses goes something like this: “And God will return you to Egypt in ships, in the path in which I told you that you shall never again see, and there shall you be offered to your enemies as slaves, though there be no buyers.” That the Curses should have concluded with this verse is no accident, for the return to Egypt represents nothing less than the reversal of the Exodus, that fundamental event on which so many of the core beliefs and practices of Judaism are predicated, and to which the Torah attaches such massive significance. Egypt means the end of nationhood, the abyss from which no spiritual escape is humanly possible.

Does that mean the end? Is there no recovery from these curses? I think we can answer optimistically. And it is in this sense that Moshe continues with a brief recap of the Exodus story, of the miraculous events that forged the Jewish nation. Those events had not been fully appreciated until the delivery of the Curses. The new generation had not experienced its Egypt....Didn't quite have time to finish this thought.

Friday, September 08, 2006

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"It's due to cross-breeding."

- HK, re. his disease

From The Devil's Dictionary

Pray, v. To ask that the laws of the universe be annulled in behalf of a single petitioner confessedly unworthy.

Ephraim Stulberg on Ki Tavo, 5765: The Altar at Eival

1. And Moshe and the Elders of Israel commanded the nation, saying: “Guard all the commandment which I command you this day.”
2. And it shall be on the day when you shall pass over the Jordan into the Land which God, your God, gives you, that you shall set up for yourselves great stones and plaster them with plaster.
3. And in your passing over, you shall write upon them all the words of this Torah, so that you might come into the Land which God, your God, gives unto you, a land flowing with milk and honey…
4. And it shall be that, when you have crossed over the Jordan, you shall set up these stones which I command you this day on Mount Eival, and you shall plaster them with plaster.
5. And you shall build there an altar…
8. And you shall write upon the stones all the words of this Torah, well elucidated.

The above passage presents the reader with a number of difficulties, most notable of which is the fact that verses 2 and 3 and verses 4 and 8 seem to repeat the same idea, that upon crossing into Israel, the Jews ought to set up a monument, plaster it, and write the Torah on it. Why the repetition?

In what I find to be a very convincing explanation, Abravanel interprets the first verses (2) as being of the indicative mood, while only the latter verses are written in the imperative. In this passage, Moshe is warning the Jews that, when they inevitably desire to establish a monument to commemorate the historic events of their triumphant re-entry into the land of their forebears after so many years in Exile, their choice of emblem should not be self-congratulatory, but rather must pay homage to God and to His Torah. Verse 1, explains Abravanel, is not a warning to perform the commandments in deed, but rather to set up a memorial that will inspire future generations to serve God. It serves as an overview of the entire eight-verse section. The word áÌÀòÈáÀøÆêÈ (“in your passing over”) in verse 3 describes not the context of the monument’s establishment, but rather its purpose, which would have been, in the normal course of things, to describe the events leading up to that historic moment: in the Jews’ case, the miracle of the Exodus, the wanderings in the Desert, the military victories. Should you desire to record the events of “this Torah”, i.e. the chronological portions of the Torah, those ostensibly most relevant to the event being commemorated, you must avoid such a temptation, Moshe tells the people; rather, you must record the real reason you are coming into the Land. You must record not only the Torah’s narrative portions, but also the 613 commandments, for it is in their merit that all these wonders were performed. You must write “ALL the words of this Torah”.

In his commentary on the Book of Yehoshua, Abravanel employs this novel reading to explain some of the apparent inconsistencies between the Moshe’s commandment and of Yehoshua’s fulfillment of it. Immediately upon crossing the Jordan, the Jews set up a twelve-stone monument at Gilgal (Yehoshua 4:20); it was not until later on, after their victories over Yericho and The Ai, that they built the stone altar at Mount Eival (8:30-32), seemingly disregarding that it be erected “on the day when you shall pass over the Jordan” (verse 2). While the gemara (Sotah 33b) accounts for this difficulty, its explanation seems forced; according to Abravanel, however, there is no problem, as there is no requirement in the actual commandment (verse 4) that all this be done on the day of entry into Israel. Verse 2 speaks only of the natural compulsion to make a memorial.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Photoshop 2x01

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"Ben...Psshhhhhhhtt..."

- JG

From The Devil's Dictionary

Poverty, n. A file provided for the teeth of the rats of reform. The number of plans for its abolition equals that of the reformers who suffer from it, plus that of the philosophers who know nothing about it. Its victims are distinguished by possession of all the virtues and by their faith in leaders seeking to conduct them into a prosperity where they believe these to be unknown.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Scruples Question

Suppose you're a school principal looking to hire a new Judaic studies teacher. There's a certain fellow, X, you'd like to hire, who you think is well qualified and well suited for the job - in fact, you consider him the best person available. However, X subscribes to beliefs p and q, and the majority of the school board - the people who hired you - mistakenly believe p and q to be heretical. They therefore would feel that X was unsuitable for the job. (We will leave aside whether they actually consider him to be a heretic.) Should you hire X, because your mandate is (let's assume) to ensure your students get as good an education as possible, and your job is to pursue that goal to the best of your ability, or should you hire someone else, because your employer won't like the particular decision to hire X?

(Assume that (a) you cannot disabuse the board of their incorrect opinion regarding p and q; and (b) if you get fired, you're confident of landing on your feet without trauma to yourself or your family.)

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"I am the bread god!"

- BB, re. kitchen duties

From The Devil's Dictionary

Posterity, n. An appellate court which reverses the judgment of a popular author's contemporaries, the appellant being his obscure competitor.

Monday, September 04, 2006

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"Do not deface or mutilate this card in any way, for the name of the Lord is on it."

- bencher

From The Devil's Dictionary

Positive, n. Mistaken at the top of one's voice.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Unscramble This!!! Continued

From http://gscarows.blogspot.com/2006/08/unscramble-this.html.

Ibn Ezra on Torah Authorship Follow-Up

There's an interesting discussion ongoing in the comments on my post "Ibn Ezra on Torah Authorship", which some of you may remember from way back when. It's at http://darklordsblog.blogspot.com/2006/03/ibn-ezra-on-torah-authorship.html, if you're interested.

Gaby

The Rideau Bakery Cafe at the JCC is closed tomorrow. I guess we'll have to have lunch at your place.

Ephraim Stulberg on Ki Tavo, 5764

In the declaration made during the offering of the first-fruits (bikkurim), described in this week’s parasha (26:5-10), the owner of the produce begins with a brief synopsis of Jewish history. “An Aramean destroyed my father, and he went down to Egypt, and dwelt there…,” goes the first verse. Though there are really two schools of thought concerning this verse, I have chosen to follow the rendering of Sifrei, Onkelos and Rashi - rather than that of Ibn Ezra, Rashbam, and S’forno - in my translation. According to this understanding, Lavan, the Aramean, attempted to do away with Ya’akov; and though he failed, writes Rashi, the Torah considers it as though he succeeded, “for regarding the actions of the Gentiles, God considers intent as being tantamount to action.”

These concluding words of Rashi’s are ones which are worth discussing. What exactly are the parameters of this rule? Rashi’s source is the Talmud Yerushalmi (Pe’ah 1:1). The gemara states that whereas with Jews, good intentions - but not evil ones - are included in one’s moral tally as though they had been acted upon, for non-Jews, the opposite is true, and it is their malignant thoughts, not their benevolent ones, which are given the weight of actions. This gemara is also cited by Tosafos on Kiddushin 39b.

In support of its contention that the good thoughts of the Jews are counted as good deeds, the Yerushalmi cites a verse from Malachi 3. This same verse is also cited by the Bavli (B’rachos 6a) in support of a nearly identical contention: “Rav Ashi stated that if someone intended to do a mitzvah, but was unable to do so through no fault of his own (“ve-ne’enas”), Scripture nonetheless considers him to have done it.” Thus if one were merely lazy or negligent, one would not get credit for such good ideas.

I believe that the same caveat pertains to the other side of the coin as well. When the Yerushalmi states that the evil cogitations of Gentiles are counted as actions, it refers only to cruel intentions not carried through due to duress. The Yerushalmi’s source for this rule is a couple of verses in Ovadiah (Chapter 1!!!) which seem to imply that Eisav killed Ya’akov. “He did?” wonders the Talmud. It explains that the prophet must mean that Eisav intended to kill his brother, a thought which was just as bad as having actually done so.

Now there are several instances in which Eisav thought about killing his brother, and none of them would seem to have been because of forgetfulness or a change of heart (except for one opinion in B’reishis Rabbah 72:3). For instance, in their famous reunion in P’ Va-yishlach, Eisav tried to bite his twin brother’s neck, which fortuitously turned to marble (ibid.).

It is in light of this observation that we can begin to make sense of a confusing passage in the Passover Haggadah. The Haggadah states that prior to their travails in Egypt, the Jews had experienced persecution at the hands of others. Lavan was even worse than Pharaoh, for while the latter decreed against only the males, Lavan sought to destroy all Jews, as it states: “An Aramean destroyed my father, and he went down to Egypt…” The Haggadah then proceeds to analyse this verse word-by-word. “‘And he went down to Egypt’ – coerced by the statement (of God),” it tells us.

I have long puzzled at this line. First of all, where do we find such a command? Secondly, this explanatory statement seems to be rather loosely related to the verse it purports to elucidate. What was so ambiguous about the phrase “and he went down to Egypt” that the Haggadah felt the need to add this parenthetical? This section of the Haggadah features two types of explanations: those which serve to clarify murky terms, and those which simply cite prior mentions of the events and phenomena described in the Bikkurim declaration. Yet this particular example seems to fall into neither category. Finally, when one examines the text of Haggadah in Rambam’s Yad Ha-chazakah, one finds that this particular line is omitted from the text. (This fact is noted by Abravanel in his work, “Zevach Pesach”.)

On the strength of all these difficulties, I think it would not be out of line to suggest that the phrase “coerced by the statement (of God)” is of later origin, and that it refers not to the words “And he went down to Egypt”, but rather to the initial line of “An Aramean destroyed my father.” The Haggadah is seeking to explain to us why it is that the Torah considers Lavan to have succeeded in his nefarious plot. That Lavan did not ultimately harm Ya’akov and his family had nothing to do with some suddenly-discovered scruples, but rather to Divine threat. “I have the power to do ill towards you… but the God of your forefathers appeared to me last night” and gave me a none- too-subtle warning not to lay a finger on you, Lavan says (B’reishis 31:29). This is what the Haggadah means when it says “coerced by the statement (of God).” Only because Lavan’s failure was a result of Divine intervention did the Torah ascribe such an awful action to him.

What's the funny thing that happened at Tommy and Sharon's just before Shabbos?

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"When I was a boy, we didn't have ununnilium, and do you know how lucky you are now that you do?"

- HK, imitating old men

From The Devil's Dictionary

Polygamy, n. A house of atonement, or expiatory chapel, fitted with several stools of repentance, as distinguished from monogamy, which has but one.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Ephraim Stulberg on Ki Teitzei, 5765

Following the Torah’s description of the peculiar institution of the levirate marriage, we are told of a potential scenario: “If men fight one with the other, and the wife of the one should draw near to save her husband from the hand that smites him, and puts forth her hand, and grabs him by his, um, nether-region; Then you shall cut off her hand, your eye should have no mercy” (D’varim 25:11-12). In the Sifrei, there are two different understandings of these verses presented; and as we shall see, both interpretations convincingly account for the particular terms employed by the Torah in crafting its law.

Rabbi Yehuda takes the commandment as referring to the damage known as “boshes”, which in modern parlance might translate as “emotional distress”, or, less pretentiously, “embarrassment”. If the assaulted man’s wife saves her husband in an unnecessarily humiliating manner, the assailant is entitled to an additional level of compensation. The cutting off of her hand refers to monetary payment, which she must earn with her own handiwork, since, as a married woman, she presumably controls no property of her own (Netziv). We are to have no mercy on her in levelling this fine, for although no tangible damage was done, such actions are not to be taken lightly, and must not go unpunished (Malbim). In that sense, this fine is analogous to that issued to the “eidim zom’mim”, who merely intended to make the accused lose money: there, too, we are commanded not to have mercy. While it is true that there are other instances in which such a command is given, in those places the Torah says not to have mercy “on him”, i.e. on his own body; rather, we are to kill him. Over here, and regarding the “eidim zom’mim”, the phrase “on him” is omitted from the Torah, implying a less personal involvement in the punishment (Hak’tav Ve-ha’qabbala).

The other opinion explains the verse as describing a scenario in which the woman uses excessive force (hence the verb “v’hecheziqa” (Netziv)) to save her husband from his foe; she squeezes the poor fellow so hard that his life is in danger. In such a case, the Torah requires us to literally cut off her hand in order to save the agonized man’s life. If even this will not save the man, then we are authorized, indeed required, to use lethal force to release him from her potentially fatal grip; we “should have no mercy.” Both of these explanations are equally plausible, and it is perhaps not surprising that both of them are codified by Rambam in his Yad Hachazaqa (Hilchos Chovel 1:9, Hilchos Rotze’ach 1:7-8). Both Rav Hirsch and the Malbim, the former rather superficially, the latter much more thoroughly, explain that the two interpretations are not meant to be mutually exclusive; rather, there is a dual narrative, a sort of double layer in which the Torah presents the law. Let’s translate our verse a bit more literally:

A. “If two men fight together” – two non-relatives, between whom the fighting would be presumably fiercer, more likely to lead to death

B. “A man and his brother” - unlikely to yield fatalities

B. “And the wife of the one approaches to save her husband from his assailant, and sends out her hand” – i.e. she grasps him in a manner that is not life- threatening.

A. “Or she grabs him very hard” – with potentially lethal force.

A/B. “You shall cut off her hand” – either literally (A) or figuratively (B)

There is no argument between the two explanations, and both are halachically accepted.

Ephraim Stulberg on Ki Teitzei, 5764

One of the details concerning the status of the “yefas to’ar”, the gentile woman captured during battle, is that she must “shave her hair and ‘do’ her nails” (D’varim 21:12). This “doing” of her nails does not necessarily have the same connotation as it does in modern parlance, however. Its meaning is disputed by the sages, R’ Eliezer and R’ Akiva (Sifrei, Yevamos 48a). R’ Eliezer believes that the obligation is for the woman to cut her nails, while R’ Akiva is of the opinion that she must grow them long. Both sages deduce their opinions from the context of the commandment, using the explicit command to shave her hair as an indicator of the Torah’s intent regarding her nails. R’ Eliezer says that just as the Torah tells us that she must cut her hair, so too must she cut her nails; R’ Akiva says that just as she makes herself unsightly in her lack of hair, so too does she make herself ugly in her fingernails. (We see clearly that short fingernails were not considered unsightly in ancient days, whereas long ones were; thus R’ Eliezer does not dispute R’ Akiva on his own grounds. Obviously the manicure industry is a fairly modern phenomenon. However, see Ramban.) The Targum of Onkelos on the verse clearly sides with R’ Akiva’s interpretation, that she must grow her nails long. MaHaRa”TZ Chayos (notes on Megillah 3a, as well as in Imrei Binah (#4) in the second volume of his collected works) is puzzled by this, as the gemara (Megillah 3a) states that Onkelos received his Targum from none other than R’ Eliezer and R’ Yehoshua. How could he argue with his own teacher, R’ Eliezer? One might add that such a stance would have been especially grievous for a student of R’ Eliezer, of whom it is said that he never said any halacha unless he had first heard it from his own teacher (Succah 27b). R’ Nosson Adler, in his work on the Targum, entitled Nesinah La-ger, writes that in fact Onkelos did not receive his Targum from R’ Eliezer and R’ Yehoshua; rather, he merely had them approve it (see Yerushalmi Megillah 1:9. While I have not seen the introduction of R’ Adler to his work – which he refers to briefly in his comments on the verse in our parasha, I have serious misgivings concerning his equation of Akilas, who is mentioned in the Yerushalmi, with Onkelos. Akilas seems to have translated into Greek, judging from the context of the Yerushalmi. At any rate, this topic has already been explored in great length by others). The truth is that in the Sifrei, we find another argument regarding the commandment that the woman be allowed to cry for her father and mother for “yerach yamim.” R’ Akiva says that this phrase actually implies a period of three months – the extra word “yamim” adds on an additional two units to the month indicated by the term “yerach” – and the reason for this is that we should be able to distinguish whether any children are from this new marriage to the Jewish man, or from her previous marriage. R’ Eliezer says that the period is only a month, and that the point is simply to allow her to become unsightly and undesirable to her captor. Thus we see that it is R’ Eliezer, and not R’ Akiva, that places the emphasis on making the woman look disgusting. Perhaps, then, we might suggest that the correct reading of the gemara ought to reverse the two opinions, and R’ Eliezer would be the one to say that she grows her nails in order to become ungainly, thus following his own path. Thus Onkelos follows his teacher, R’ Eliezer. I realize that this is a very flimsy suggestion, and I don’t wish to present it as being otherwise. True, there are instances in which some commentaries have indeed reversed the opinions of R’ Akiva and R’ Eliezer, due to a contradiction between the opinion of R’ Eliezer and Onkelos – see commentary of MaHaRa”TZ Chayos on Succah 11b. But in that instance, there were other texts which supported the new version.

QUOTI OF THE DAY

"Don't excite yourself."

- SG

From The Devil's Dictionary

Politician, n. An eel in the fundamental mud upon which the superstructure of organized society is reared. When he wriggles he mistakes the agitation of his tail for the trembling of the edifice. As compared with the statesman, he suffers the disadvantage of being alive.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Ephraim Stulberg on Ki Teitzei, 5766

Israeli academics are apparently known for their penchant for writing books that are far longer than they need to be, and having almost finished Prof. Simcha Kogut's book on "Correlations between Biblical Accentuation and Traditional Jewish Exegesis" (or, somewhat more poetically in Hebrew, "Ha-miqra bein ta'amim le-pharshanut"), I can provide at least a bit of anecdotal support for that generalization.

That being said, the book certainly opens up one's eyes to role of the ta'amim, and the somewhat idiosyncratic manner in which they were occasionally distributed.

Take verse 23:24 in this week's reading. "Motza sephateka tishmor ve'asita; ka'asher nadarta la-shem eloqeka nedava, asher dibarta be-phika." Why is the etnahta placed under ve'asita, seemingly depriving the second half of the verse of any active verb?