Responsa

RRR 138-141

Double Funerals

A widower and his sister-in-law, who kept house for him, were both killed in an automobile accident and a double funeral was held. Someone objected on the ground that a double funeral would have been ‘permissible had they been husband and wife, but was not permissible for a man and his sister-in-law. Is this correct, and what is the Jewish law on the matter of double funerals? (From Louis J. Freehof, San Francisco, California)

As to the double funeral service, I know of no such law. If the objector was a rabbi, I would be grateful if you would ask him to give whatever references he has to indicate that a double funeral of husband and wife is permitted, but not a double funeral of those not so closely related.

Although not much has been written on this question, I will discuss what I have found in the legal tradition relating to it. There is, of course, considerable discussion on what might be deemed an analogous question, not directly as to the funeral service, but as to burial: Who may be buried together? An infant too young for a regular funeral service, who “slept with the parents” and is, as it is said, “carried in the arms,” may be buried in the grave of a parent. Otherwise, each body must have a grave of its own, properly separated from other graves. Also with regard to these separate graves, there is some discussion as to which graves may adjoin each other. There is the law that no wicked person shall be buried in a grave adjoining that of a righteous person. There is no real objection to the burial of men and women in adjoining graves. These laws were important because the custom was (up to modern times) to bury in a row, each consecutive grave dug as needed. Nowadays, when so many people buy lots for their families, these questions are of less significance.

Now as to the funeral service, it is the question which comes closer to your inquiry about double funerals. This also is discussed in the law, but in a way only partially connected with your question. The source is not in the Talmud itself, but in the booklet from Talmudic times, Evel Rabatti (or Semachot) XI : 4 and 5. There it is said (XI : 4) that we do not carry to the cemetery two corpses on one bier unless they are both of equal degree of righteousness and should be praised equally. Then, in the same reference, we are told of an actual event: A house fell upon a man’s two sons and his daughter and they were killed in the accident. Rabbi Judah said they may be carried out on one bier, with the two boys at one end and the girl at the other end. They were mourned together.

The next section in Evel Rabatti (XI: 5) says that we do not make two hespeds (i.e., two funeral services) in one city at the same time unless there are enough people to be present or enough eulogizers for both. This statement would indicate some objection even to simultaneous but separate funerals, but that clearly would apply to a small town where there are not enough people to attend both. The previous passage (XI: 4) about the two brothers and the sister would indicate no objection to a double (in this case, triple) funeral.

The question that concerns us here is whether the fact that the story cited speaks of two brothers and a sister is to be taken with strict construction to mean that only close relatives may be buried in a joint funeral service. Perhaps this statement about the brothers and the sister is the source of the point raised by the objector, maintaining that only close relatives may be eulogized in one service.

If this interpretation were correct, we would find it referred to in the later commentaries, but not one of the commentators makes such a reference. These statements cited above from Evel Rabatti are cited by Isaac ibn Gayyat (twelfth-thirteenth century) in his book “Sha’arey Simcha,” pp. 40-41; in the medieval law code Rokeach 314; and in the relevant place in Nachmanides’ “Toras ho-Odom.” None of these references comes to any conclusion which would indicate that it is prohibited to have a joint hesped (funeral service) for those who are not close relatives. They merely either again discuss who may be buried in one coffin or, in general, the relative merits of the persons involved.

In this unspecified sense, the law is codified in the Shulchan Aruch (Yore Deah 344 :15 and 16), i.e., merely that we do not have two simultaneous funeral services unless there are enough people and enough eulogizers for each.

If this law were made the basis of a prohibition against joint or double services of those who are not closely related, such an objection would appear in the commentators I have mentioned, or in the Shulchan Aruch and its commentators. We cannot say that the objection which was raised at this time was not raised in the past because the matter never came up in the past; it certainly must have come up many times, considering the riots and the massacres which often occurred. Certainly there must have been occasions for combined funerals of people who were not closely related to each other.

Therefore, I offer this negative evidence: Nowhere in the law, in the development of the statement cited from Evel Rabatti, where we might expect some comment, is any such comment to be found. Of course, one cannot be sure, in the vast range of Jewish law and custom that such a discussion may not be found; but if it exists, it must be a minor or local custom.

I repeat: if the objector was a rabbi, tell him I would be most grateful for any clear reference to such objection as was raised. If the objector is not a rabbi, then I am sure you can dismiss the objection as being merely a popular notion without foundation.

RRR 110-113

Dying Request: No Funeral Services, No Mourning

A dying man has specifically requested that no fu neral service be held for him and that his family should not mourn for him. However, his widow wants to observe mourning but is in doubt whether or not it is her duty to fulfill the request of her late husband. (From Miss Jane Evans, Executive Secretary, National Federation of Temple Sisterhoods, New York City)

This question has come up a number of times in various forms in the legal literature. Sometimes a man requests that no memorial addresses be given in his honor (hesped); another will request that no Kaddish be recited; another may insist that no mourning be observed for him. The discussions of these various questions are always based upon the debate in the Talmud, b. Sanhedrin 47b. Here the Talmud is trying to determine the reason for the custom of burial in the earth. In the course of the discussion they ask the question, whether burial is for the purpose of saving the living from shame (if the body remains unburied) or for the purpose of providing atonement for the dead (since the earth by decaying the flesh brings atonement). This question is not clearly decided in the Talmud; but in the course of trying to decide it they mention that the choice between the two reasons (i.e., whether it is for the benefit of the living or for the dead) would be important in case a man should say, “Do not have a funeral address for me.” If burial is for the sake of the dead, he would have the right to dispense with the honor of the funeral service.

There is very little further discussion of the matter until the fourteenth century, in the Responsa of Jacob Weil (17). He discusses a specific case. A dying woman asked her daughters not to mourn for her; actually, her request was that they should not wear their cloaks over their heads as the mourners did. Should her daughters pay attention to this request? Jacob Weil, discussing this matter, goes back to the discussion in the Talmud mentioned above, and concludes that funeral rituals and customs are for the honor of the dead and that, therefore, the dying can ask that they be dispensed with. Yet not all of mourning is for the honor of the dead. The seven days of shiva and the thirty days of half-mourning apply to all the dead equally and not merely to a parent. The mother may ask her children to dispense with the full year’s mourning (i.e., after the thirty days) because the full year’s mourning is of special honor to a parent and a parent can, therefore, ask that it be dispensed with. But the regular seven and thirty days’ mourning are to be considered a commandment incumbent upon all who mourn for any relative, and the mother surely has not the right to abolish the laws of mourning. She can only dispense with her own special honors.

The opinion implied in the Talmud that a man may dispense with the special honor due him after his death, and the opinion expressed by Jacob Weil that a person cannot by request abolish the duty of the seven and the thirty days’ mourning, are both embodied in the law as codified in the Shulchan Aruch (Yore Deah 344 : 6). There Joseph Caro states the Talmudic law that if a man asks that there be no eulogy for him (which may also be taken to mean funeral services in general) we obey his request. To which Isserles adds (based upon the responsum of Jacob Weil) that if, however, he asks that the seven and the thirty days’ mourning be abolished we do not obey his request.

On the basis of the law thus codified, a number of specific cases are discussed in the responsa literature. Eliakim Goetz, Rabbi of Hildesheim in the seventeenth century, in his Responsa, “Even Ha-Shoham” 42, gives the following case: A man before his death requested that his son not say Kaddish after him, and that his married daughter should not mourn for him. Goetz takes up all the previous authorities mentioned and concludes that since Kaddish is for the atonement of the dead, the dead have the right to decide whether they want it or not, and therefore the deceased father’s request should be obeyed in this regard. But as for his daughter’s not mourning for him, this, he says (following Jacob Weil), is not his right to demand. He may not abolish the laws of mourning.

Jacob ben Samuel, a contemporary of Goetz, in his responsa, “Bes Ya’akov” 83, gives a case that is somewhat different. A great scholar asked that no eulogies be uttered for him. Should we listen to that request? The author is not sure. He is certain that if an average person made the request we should follow it. But since it is a duty to mourn a great scholar, it is difficult to decide; and he concludes that if someone, in spite of the dying request, does eulogize the great scholar, he has not done much wrong thereby.

Elazar Fleckeles, Rabbi of Prague in the eighteenth century, discusses the same question in two responsa (“Teshuva M’ahava,” vol. I, nos. 174 and 207). In the first responsum he discusses the fact that his great teacher, Ezekiel Landau, of Prague, did memorialize a great scholar who had asked not to be memorialized. However, he adds (in spite of what his teacher had done), it is not clear that we have the right to ignore the request of the departed. In the responsum 207 he repeats the point of view of the Shulchan Aruch, that we should not eulogize but should fulfill the mourning requirements, and then cites a point of view to the effect that even the mourning requirements need not be observed if the departed has so requested. He quotes this from Jacob Reischer who, in his notes to the Talmud, Sanhedrin 47 (“Iyyun Ya’akov”), says that even the mourning requirements of the seven and the thirty days are really for the honor of the dead (i.e., as much as the funeral services are) and therefore the dead may have rightly requested that they too be dispensed with (cf. “Shevus Ya’asov” II, 102). After quoting this exceptional opinion of Jacob Reischer, Elazar Fleckeles disagrees with him and states that we follow the opinion of Jacob Weil and that the dead have no right to abolish the obligatory laws of mourning—i.e., the seven and the thirty days.

It is evident, then, that there is some uncertainty in the law. The dying person’s request that he not be eulogized, or that Kaddish not be said, seems to be generally admitted as his right; but the mourning, at least the basic mourning of the seven and thirty days, are rather the duty of the living than merely the honor of the dead, and, therefore, it is not his right to demand that they be omitted. In the case, therefore, which has been inquired about, the wish of the dead should be followed with regard to the funeral service. It can be greatly simplified or the ritual even omitted entirely. But the wife is right in her desire to mourn for him; in fact, it is her duty to do so.

RRR 149-153

SHOES FOR THE DEAD

When people bring to the undertaker’s establishment the clothes in which the body is to be dressed for burial, they are always careful not to bring shoes. They seem to take it as a fixed rule or custom that the dead must be buried without shoes. What is the basis for the custom, or is it more than merely a custom? Is it an established law? (From Louis J. Freehof, San Francisco, California)

The fact that the people bring clothes from home for the dead to be dressed in for burial indicates that their relative is to be buried in modern clothes and not in the traditional shrouds (tachrichim). This is, of course, contrary to Jewish custom; and the question comes up in the law frequently as to whether it may not be permitted to disturb the dead by reopening the grave, in case he was not buried with the entire set of shrouds (see the discussion of this matter in Greenwald, “Kolbo,” pp. 92-93). Evidently, then, these modern people do not object to the breach of Jewish law which requires shrouds, and yet would not think of burying the dead in shoes. Is it, perhaps, possible that there is a strong and a particular objection to burial in shoes, so that even those people who do not object to burial in modern clothes, which is clearly prohibited, nevertheless object to burial in shoes? What, if anything, is of special significance with regard to shoes and burial?

If there were some such special objection to shoes it would certainly be mentioned in some of the careful listings of the garments in which the dead are to be clad for burial. There are generally seven garments made of linen (in addition to the tallis, generally of wool) which are used for this purpose. As far as the Sephardic Jews are concerned, a complete and detailed listing of the shroud garments is found in “Ha-Kuntres Ha-Yechieli,” which deals especially with the customs of the Sephardim of Jerusalem. In the section Bes Olamim, chapter 5, the author gives in complete detail the method of shrouding the dead. Of course shoes are not among the seven garments, but no special mention is made objecting to them. For the Ashkenazim, “Chochmas Adam” (178 : 8) gives in detail the procedure and the garments for shrouding the dead, and no reference is made to shoes. One would think if there were a special objection to shoes some reference would be made in these sources. Of course, they did not bury in shoes, but they did not bury in any of the lifetime garments. All of them are objectionable, but there is no special objection to shoes.

On the other hand, there is positive evidence that in Talmudic times it was customary to bury people in shoes and, indeed, honored and respected people were so buried. In the Palestinian Talmud (Kelaim IX : 3 [4]) there is a discussion of the fact that the laws against mixed fabrics in garments, Kelaim, do not apply to the dead, since the dead “are free from the mitzvos.” There we are told that Rabbi Jeremiah gave instructions that he be buried in his clothes, with shoes on his feet and staff in hand. The reason for this is given: that he would be ready to arise at the moment of the resurrection, and the commentator expresses no surprise at this request of Jeremiah to have shoes put on his feet; on the contrary, he is praised for giving an evidence of his faith in the coming of the Messiah.

If later custom had developed a special objection to burial in shoes, one of the numerous commentators on the Jerusalem Talmud would have found Rabbi Jeremiah’s request a strange one and would have made some attempt to explain it away, but not one of the commentators has done so. Evidently they did not find it strange. In fact, the strict Orthodox authority Abraham Samuel Sofer (“K’sav Sofer,” Yore Deah 175), seeking to explain the custom in some localities of putting in the hands of the dead a stick or a staff (geplach)— concerning which his father, the great Moses Sofer, said he knew no explanation (see his responsum, Yore Deah 327)—proudly points to this passage in the Jerusalem Talmud as a proof of the origin of a symbolic staff in the hands of the dead. But he does not feel the need of making any comment on the fact that Rabbi Jeremiah asked to be buried in shoes.

Also, in the Babylonian Talmud, in Yevamoth 104c (top) where there is a discussion of what sort of shoes may not be used for the ceremony of chalitza, shoes of an old man made for this honor are mentioned, and Rashi explains that phrase to mean that the shoes are specially made as part of his shrouds. Therefore, it is clear that in Talmudic times not only was it permitted to be buried in shoes, but this seemed to be a particularly honored procedure.

As far as modern Jewish law is concerned, there is a special circumstance under which it is required in the Shulchan Aruch that the man be buried with shoes. If a man is found killed on the road, he must be buried in his garments and even with his shoes (Shulchan Aruch, Yore Deah 364 : 4). The purpose of burying him in his clothes was to bury the blood with him and Sabbetai Cohen (the Schach), in commenting upon this law, says that some blood may have run down into the shoes and hence (even if no blood is visible on the outside of them) his shoes should not be taken off. It is clear, at least from this, that there was no greater objection to shoes than to other clothes, so that if a murdered man was buried in his clothes, that meant the shoes also, even though no blood was visible on them.

Since clearly there is no specific objection to burial in shoes anywhere in the law, that I can find, and since you report that the question is fairly widespread, we must evidently look for nonlegal, especially folkloristic, explanations. The Sefer Chasidim, from the twelfth century, considers it objectionable to give away the shoes of the dead (454). This is understood by later commentators to be an objection to giving away the shoes in which the man died, possibly for fear of infection (see Wolf Leiter, “Bes David” 131). Nevertheless, the Sefer Chasidim, being full of this sort of folklore, would certainly have mentioned any objection to burial in shoes if there were a folkloristic reason for it.

Why, then, the objection to burial of the dead with shoes?

One possible guess may be that, according to Kabbalistic ideas, the worthy dead attain the status of the high priest, and the shrouds in some way correspond to the priestly garments. If, therefore, we dress the dead as priests this may explain the absence of shoes, since the priests went barefoot when they blessed the people. Likewise, it may be possible that since among the shrouds was a garment like the garment worn on Yom Kippur, and since on Yom Kip pur pious people went around barefoot, or at least only in slippers, they may have felt that it is proper for the dead to be shoeless. Another possibility is that since pious people sitting shiva do not wear shoes, or at best wear slippers, that, too, may have affected the belief that the dead should be shoeless. But all these are simply guesses.

The important fact is that in Talmudic times respected people were buried in shoes, and none of the later discussions of the shrouds mention any special objection to shoes. Of course, if people are buried in the traditional tachrichim they are buried without shoes, just as they are buried without coat and vest, the shoes simply not being one of the special, traditional shroud garments. But that people who no longer observe the old shroud customs and have no objection to street garments should nevertheless object to shoes can only be explained on the basis of some folk analogy with such other observances as the blessing of the priest, the worship on the Day of Atonement, or the sitting of shiva.

RRR 87-91

Unprovable Claims to Conversion

A man aged forty-five has been married for several months. His wife is seeking an annulment of their marriage on the grounds that he misrepresented him self as a Jew at the time of the marriage. The man claims to be a Jew and has considered himself a Jew all his life. His mother was born a non-Jewess. His father, now eighty, states that his wife (the man’s mother) was converted by a Reform rabbi before their marriage. He can find no record of it. To add to the difficulty, the mother, now deceased, was buried in a non-Jewish cemetery. The son (who is now being sued for annulment) was circumcised at a Brith Mila, was Bar Mitzvah, and married by a Conservative rabbi. He was reared as a Jew and considers himself a Jew. He is contesting th e annulment on the grounds that if he does not, he will be indicating that he does not be lieve himself to be a Jew. Is the man to be considered a Jew or not, as far as Jewish law is concerned? (From Rabbi Selig Salkowitz, Reform Temple of Fair Lawn,Fair Lawn, New Jersey)

The problem is complicated. There are a number of crucial elements involved. The woman, who declares herself to be Orthodox, has evidently been instructed to contest the validity of the conversion of her husband’s mother by a Reform rabbi. If that conversion is invalid, her husband is the son of a Gentile and has misrepresented himself as a Jew. Therefore, the first important question is the validity of a Reform conversion.

It might be too much to expect a strictly Orthodox rabbi to acknowledge the validity of any Reform ceremony which varies from the norm laid down in the Shulchan Aruch. A Reform conversion certainly does not conform to that norm. The fact that we may instruct the candidate for conversion much more thoroughly in Jewish beliefs and history than any Orthodox rabbi would instruct her would be immaterial in the face of the fact that we generally omit the ceremonial requirement of sending her to the ritual bath (mikveh). It is the ritual that matters to the Orthodox rabbi and not whatever intellectual and moral preparation we may give her. While, therefore, the absence of the ritual bath prevents the Orthodox rabbi from acknowledging the validity of our conversion, the courts have no right to question it and to assume that there is only one authentic form of Judaism and that is Orthodoxy. With regard to our ceremonial disagreement with Orthodoxy, there is nothing for decent people to do but endure it, and learn somehow to achieve mutual respect. So the question of the wife’s refusal to acknowledge the authenticity of Reform conversion cannot be discussed with her. It can only be discussed in the courts, if necessary.

It is not only the Reform conversion which is here brushed aside; it is also the acceptance of the boy as a Jew by the Conservative rabbi which is here deemed irrelevant. The boy was circumcised as a Jew, was Bar Mitzvah, lived as a Jew. What objection is there, then, to considering him a Jew? It can only be that an Orthodox rabbi, rejecting the validity of the mother’s conversion, considers this boy to be a Gentile, and therefore in addition to being circumcised, he should have been sent to the mikveh. It would be on this basis only that the boy’s Jewishness could be denied. Again, it is the omission of a ceremonial which weighs more than the boy’s Jewish education, Bar Mitzvah, and his whole life as a Jew.

However, there is another question which involves a complicated problem in Jewish law. This problem revolves around the fact that the man’s father, now very old, can adduce no proofs that his wife was converted, as he claims she was. Such unprovable claims to conversion have evoked considerable discussion in the Talmud and in the Codes. The chief source of the laws involved is the Talmud in b. Yevamoth 47a, and then the Tur and the Shulchan Aruch in Yore Deah 268 : 10 and 11. The various subdivisions of the problem are these: (a) a man claims to have been converted before a certain Jewish court; (b) a man claims to have been converted privately, not before a court; (c) a man was assumed to be a Jew but now he himself has raised a question and says he has been a Gentile but has been converted; (d) a man was assumed to be a Gentile but claims that he has been converted.

These various situations arouse different reactions in the minds of the legal authorities. In general, their answer is that the man claiming to have been converted, let us say privately (without the technical requirements which the court would demand), has a right to cast doubt upon his own Jewishness by raising this question, but he has no right to cast doubt upon the Jewish status of his children. That is to say, before he may now marry another Jewess he would need to take a ritual bath (assuming that he is already circumcised), but, since at the time that he makes the statement he is not surely Jewish, he is not eligible to testify in a Jewish court against his children. The children are of unquestioned Jewish status. ‘

There is some difference in the answers for each of the various categories mentioned above. But in general the tendency of the law is increasingly to accept a man’s statement if he says he has been converted. Thus Asher ben Yehiel in the “Piskey Harosh” 4 : 34, 35, sums up the law to his time when he says: if a man claims that he was converted before a certain court, he must bring proof (since a court’s actions are susceptible of proof), but all the proof that is needed is merely for people to say, “We have heard that he was converted.” Further, if a man says he was converted privately, he has to take the ritual bath before marrying a Jewess, but his sons are held to be Jewish. To Tur, Yore Deah 368, Joel Sirkes (Bach) says: “At all events, it is our custom to believe the man’s claims and even to marry him to a Jewess.” Then Joel Sirkes proceeds to explain away partially the objections of Maimonides against believing the man. Joel Sirkes’ statement is cited with approval by Sabbetai Cohen (Shach, to Shulchan Aruch, Yore Deah 368 : 10 and 11). Sirkes to the Tur also quotes the well-known legal authority Moses, of Coucy, in his “S’Mag,” who says: “This occurs every day. Strangers come (and claim to be Jews). We do not bother to investigate. We drink wine with them and eat meat from their slaughtering.” This general tendency of the law to accept the claim of a man that he is a Jew is reflected in a recent responsum by Isaac ben Aryeh Rudnik (“S’de Yitzchok,” London, 1961). The case with which he deals is that of a soldier who came to England from overseas, who claimed to be a Jew, married a Jewess; then his wife left him and lived with another man. Rabbi Rudnik decides that the marriage to the soldier who said he was a Jew is valid enough as Jewish marriage to require a Jewish divorce (get).

Of course, all this discussion involves the claimed conversion of a man. Our case here involves a woman whose conversion to Judaism is disputed. Nevertheless, the Shulchan Aruch understands that the above laws apply equally to man and woman. It cites the Talmudic law as follows (Yore Deah 268 : 10): “If a Gentile man or a Gentile woman come and say, ‘I have been converted’ . . . ,” and so forth. The spirit of the law is clear. It reveals a growing tendency to accept the claim of a person or a family to be Jewish. Furthermore, there is an overriding presumption in all such claims that families are assumed to be kosher (Jewish and legitimate) unless, of course, there is strong ground for doubt. This principle is stated in the Talmud (b. Kiddushin 76b).

Therefore, aside from Orthodox refusal to accept any conversion other than their own, a refusal which it is futile to debate, the overwhelming tendency of Jewish law in matters of unprovable claims for conversion is to accept the claim and to consider the person a Jew.

RRR 83-87

Miscegenation and Conversion of Negroes

Does intermarriage between the main races, black, brown, and yellow, constitute a violation of the com mandment not to mix breeds? (From M.S.)

A problem has arisen in congregational policy over the conversion of a Negro who has applied for membership in our congregation. What is the policy of Reform Judaism on this question? (From Rabbi Richard G. Hertz, Detroit, Michigan) One would imagine that marriage between the races, producing half-breeds and people of skin colors which have not existed before, would indeed be a violation of the commandments implied in Leviticus 19 : 19 and Deuteronomy 22 : 9, where one is forbidden to sow with mixed seeds or to breed animals of different species. None of the earlier commentators offer any explanation as to why it should be wrong to mix breeds of plants or animals. The first to offer any explanation was Nachmanides (thirteenth century). Nachmanides, in his commentary on Leviticus 19 : 19, suggests a reason why such mixing of separate species is a sin. It is due to the fact, he says, that the man who creates such new breeds implies that God, Who created the present species and gave them the power to perpetuate themselves, had not done a perfect work at Creation and that there is now need of new species of plants and animals. In other words, the species as they exist are God’s work and presumably are perfect. To make new species is, therefore, a sin (cf. responsum on “Grafting of Roses,” p. 222). This is a general consideration, but let us consider specifically the question of mixing the human races.

In Numbers 12 : 1, we are told that Miriam and Aaron rebuked Moses for “the Ethiopian woman” (Cushite) whom he had taken. The Targum (evidently in defense of Moses) translates “Cushite” as “the beautiful woman” and the Talmud (Moed Katan 16 b ) also explains away the word “Cushite” by saying that this is really his wife Zipporah and that she was called “Cushite” because, being a Midianite, her skin was deeply tanned by the desert sun. The Talmud in the same passage explains away the Ethiopian benefactor of Jeremiah, Ebed Melech, and implies that he was a Hebrew named Zedekiah.

Nevertheless, all this explaining away of the word “Ethiopian” by Targum and Talmud does not necessarily indicate that racial prejudice was involved. Also, the Talmud (b. Berachos 59b) states that he who sees an Ethiopian must make a special blessing: “Praised be Thou, Who hast made a variety of creatures”—but this, too, is not anti Negro prejudice because the same blessing, according to the Talmud, must be recited when one sees an unusually short man or an unusually tall man. So the law is recorded in the Shulchan Aruch, Orah Hayyim 224: 9.

Nowhere does the Bible prohibit the admixture of races. Ezekiel, speaking to the Children of Israel in chapter 16, verse 3, says: “The Amorite was thy father and thy mother was a Hittite.” So, too, with regard to the vast mixed multitude which came out of Egypt. While this mixed multitude is sometimes deprecated as the source of sinfulness, there is no statement that I remember to the effect that the descendants of the Twelve Tribes kept from intermarrying with the mixed multitudes.

Thus, there is no sensitiveness in the historic traditions against the possibility of our being a mixed race. Furthermore, there is no statement in the law forbidding marriage between the members of different races, provided they become Jewish by conversion. There is, in fact, one important responsum which by eloquent silence indicates that there is absolutely no objection to intermarriage on the basis of race. I refer to the Responsa of David ben Zimri in his volume IV, no. 219, and volume VII, no. 9. The question involved a Falasha woman. In fact she is referred to plainly as a Cushite woman, therefore black-skinned. She is now in Cairo among white Jews. Her white master wants to marry her. The question involved is whether we shall accept or reject her claim that her original Cushite husband was killed in a raid in Abyssinia. But there is not the slightest question raised in the responsum about her skin color. Clearly, there was no objection on that ground.

As for the second question of practical policy in regard to the conversion, what is there to say? It is certainly a troublesome situation. A Negro becoming a Jew subjects himself to double difficulties. If he does not feel at home in the Christian Church, which claims to be universal and holds out its arms to all races of men, and is proud of its world-wide missionary enterprise, how can he feel at home in a religion that is a family religion, that has not for centuries had a world missionary movement? This is, of course, the general, social, and historical situation which he himself might consider from the point of view of his own happiness. But that is not the consideration which must primarily concern us.

While Judaism has not been a missionary religion, we are certainly not a racial religion. The Bible implies the rebuke of Aaron and Miriam because they were opposed to the fact that Moses married an Ethiopian. The Ethiopian, Ebed Melech, is the hero of the Book of Jeremiah (38 : 7) who was merciful to the prophet when all others were against him.

It is clear that from the point of view of Judaism, race makes no difference; but it is equally clear from the social point of view that to include a man who is obviously different into an intimate, family type of religion involves much more difficulty than to integrate him into a religion like Christianity which, in fact, embraces a vast variety of human types. But that, as I say, is the Negro’s own decision to make. It is our duty to recognize that race as such makes no difference in our religion.

You ask a practical question: whether we have ever converted a Negro. The answer is no. But that is because we avoid converts, except those who come for the purpose of marriage, and marriage between Jews and Negroes is rare. What if a Negro came to me and wanted to be converted in order to marry a Jewess? For the sake of their happiness, I would make every effort to dissuade him and his Jewish bride-to-be. If I failed, I would, with many misgivings, convert him.

RRR 78-83

A Questionable Conversion

The rabbi is on the faculty of a Christian theological school, giving a course of lectures on Judaism. A young Christian theological student has become in creasingly interested in Judaism and is now asking for extra instruction, since he desires to be converted to Judaism and even to study for the rabbinate. The rabbi has two grounds for hesitation in this matter: first, that it would create ill will for him to convert to Judaism a student who is preparing for the Christian ministry in the school where the rabbi is a guest pro fessor and, secondly, the student himself is not quite emotionally balanced. (From Rabbi David Polish, Chicago, Illinois)

There is a basic question with regard to conversion which must be answered first, before this specific question can be adequately discussed. Is there an obligation incumbent upon the rabbi to gain a convert? Such a question would be quite unnecessary if it were a Christian minister confronted with an analogous problem. If it were a question of converting a Jew to Christianity, the Christian minister or professor (except under special circumstances) would not hesitate because it is a general duty incumbent upon all Christians to accept, in fact to seek, converts. But is that a duty with us? In other words, is it a mitzvah to seek or even to acquire gerim?

As is well known, the legal literature is full of contradictory statements with regard to the relationship of Judaism toward proselytes. Nevertheless, it is possible to find a general direction through these varied opinions. There must have been times when, owing to the outer circumstances, the accepting of proselytes brought trouble to the community from one source or another. It is evident that such times reflected themselves in the statement of the Talmud (b. Kiddushin 70b) that “gerim are worse to Israel than a wound or a scab.” Also, “Punishment will come to those who accept gerim” (b. Yevamoth 109 b ) and “Gerim hinder the coming of the Messiah” (Niddah 13 b). On the other hand, there were times when proselytes brought blessing to the community. It was such experiences which evoked the statement in the Talmud (b. Pesachim 87b) that the Jews were exiled among the nations chiefly in order that proselytes join them.

There is one fairly clear indication in the Talmud itself that they did consider the reception of proselytes to be a duty (mitzvah). In b. Yevamoth 47b, the Talmud asks, “Why, after the candidate’s consent do we circumcise him at once?” The answer given is: “Because we must never delay the carrying out of a mitzvah.”

The Tosafists also seem to have considered it a duty. (Cf. Tos. to Yevamoth 47a at the top of the page.) The opinion of the Tosafists is clearer in the comment in Gittin 88b (s.v., “E Hochi”). The problem discussed there is the fact that only ordained teachers have the right to make certain decisions. Then how can such disputes have been decided in Babylon (where ordination was not permitted)? The answer given in the Babylonian Talmud is that in everyday business matters we (the Babylonian teachers) are acting as agents for the Palestinians. To this the Tosafos says: “That is the reason we have the right to accept proselytes, even though the process requires ordained teachers [found only in Palestine].” Likewise, the Spanish Talmudist, Nissim Gerondi (“Ran,” fourteenth century): in his commentary to Alfasi (near the end of Gittin, chapter 9) he dis-cusses the same question which was discussed by Tosafists as to our right (being unordained) to decide certain disputes. He gives the same answer, namely, that we are the agents of the ordained Palestinian rabbis. Then he adds warmly: “If we may be their agents in everyday money matters, surely we may be their agents for the noble task of bringing proselytes under the wings of the Shechina!”

Shalom Kutno, in his well-known work on proselytizing (“U’ch’Torah Yeosey,” Facs, 1897) was confronted with the modern problem of Jews who had married unconverted Christians, and who demanded that their children be circumcised (see our responsum on “Circumcising Son of Gentile Wife,” p. 99). He is opposed to these demands on the ground that it does not mean genuine conversion. He is therefore embarrassed at the statement of Nissim Gerondi mentioned above, and says that Nissim referred only to those who come to Judaism out of genuine conviction. But merely to circumcise children of Gentile wives when we know that these children will not be raised as Jews is certainly not a mitzvah at all.

In spite of the opinions of the Tosafos and of Nissim Gerondi which imply that the reception of proselytes is a duty incumbent upon us, the matter was never definitely decided. Benzion Wacholder (in Historia Judaica, October, 1958) believes that the Tosafists (therefore the Franco German Jews) considered proselytizing a mitzvah, while the Spaniards did not. This distinction is certainly to be modified by the fact that it was the Spaniard Nissim Gerondi who made the warmest statement about proselytizing as a mitzvah.

Be that as it may, the status of proselytizing as a duty is still not at all clear. It would certainly not seem to be a well-established duty, for in countries where the government forbade proselytizing by Jews, the scholars immediately ceased to proselytize (cf. Moses Isserles in his gloss to Yore Deah 267 : 4). If the government had forbidden Schechita, for example, they would not have yielded so easily.

Certainly none of the lists of commandments include a commandment to seek or receive proselytes. It is not that the subject is avoided. The legal codes contain a number of items with regard to our relationship to proselytes, but not one of them declares the acquisition of proselytes to be a duty. What they do discuss is our duty to be decent to proselytes, once they have joined us. The Talmud says (b. Mezia 58 b )that you should never say to a proselyte, “Remember your past.” For example, in the listing of the negative and positive commandments in Minchas Chinuch, the positive commandment 432 says that it is a duty to love the proselyte. Then there are two negative commandments, 63 and 64, against oppressing or cheating them in any way. In other words, we must be kind and considerate to proselytes, but we are not in duty bound to seek for them. Hence, if there is any difficulty involved, if there is a question of ill will involved, there is nothing wrong, from the point of view of Jewish law, in neglecting the conversion for the sake of the welfare of the Jewish community. In fact, in many of the discussions of the laws of conversion, the respondent does not have the slightest hesitation in saying that “in this land where conversion is forbidden [as it was in certain countries] these laws do not apply.” In other words, they did not mind dispensing with proselytizing, since it was not an obligation.

There is, in addition, a further difficulty in this specific case: the emotional instability, or semi-instability of the candidate. Now, there is a large mass of law dealing with the status of the semi-insane (shota). Of course, the specific knowledge in the Talmud of the various states of mental instability was not great, and they coupled, for legal purposes, the unbalanced with the minor and the deaf-mute (cheresh, shota, vekotan). These laws deal with these classes with regard to acquisition and sale of property, and with regard to marriage and divorce. There is no specific legal discussion of the relationship of these people with proselytizing. However, the Talmud does say that we do not accept as a proselyte one who is motivated toward conversion by dreams (geray chalomos) (b. Yevamoth 24k).

Of course, it is clear from the Talmud and the Shulchan Aruch, which discuss the careful questioning to which a candidate is subjected, that they would not accept a proselyte unless he clearly understood and deeply appreciated all the elements involved in joining the community of Israel (see Yore Deah 268). Obviously, a proselyte then needed a clear mind and a balanced judgment or he could not appreciate what he needed to understand before declaring his full willingness to convert. It is clear that the law would frown upon accepting as a proselyte one whose judgment is clouded by emotional disturbance. In this case, the dictum of the Mishnah would apply (b. Kamma VIII: 4), that it is best not to have any dealings with a shota. The Mishnah means to say that if they injure you, they are not liable to pay any fine, and if you injure them,. you have to pay. You lose either way.

Since we are under no duty to convert, we may therefore hesitate whenever the good name of the community is involved; and since, clearly, conversion requires of the convert a full and deep understanding of what is involved, it is much better to avoid any conversion in this case.

RRR 203-206

Listing the Names of Contributors

There is frequent discussion in charity drives whether the name of the donor of a gift should be mentioned and recorded in some permanent form. (From Mr. Alfred Bachrach, New York City)

This question of recording the name of the donor of a gift for charity has been widely debated in recent years. Those who favor the practice say that a man is entitled to the pride that comes to him when it becomes known that he has been generous in a good cause. Also, mentioning the name of one donor encourages other donors to equal or to surpass his gift. Those who oppose the practice say that if a man gives only a small amount to a certain cause this is primarily his own affair and he should not be embarrassed by having the small amount permanently recorded. Because these opposite arguments each have weight, the practice as to permanently recording names varies from community to community.

Is there a preference in this matter to be found in Jewish legal tradition? It is obvious at the outset that a direct opinion can hardly be found in the tradition, because the present method of conducting drives is only a modern development. In earlier times they did not use our present method of audible auction to raise money for charity, though in one way there was something like it. For centuries the traditional synagogue was maintained by especially generous gifts, given on the various holidays. These gifts were for the purpose of securing the privilege of being called to the Torah, or participating in one way or another with the Torah ritual. The amount of the gift was actually determined by competitive bidding in the service itself, and the names of the donors, the successful ones and those who were outbidden, were all, of course, announced aloud in the synagogue. As far as I know, the names of these donors were not permanently recorded, but certainly they were publicly announced.

As for more permanent acknowledgment of gifts, we do have traditional opinions which are not only mentioned by various authors, but are recorded as actual law in the Codes. As we said, the raising of money in our present form for charity did not—could not—record itself in the literature, but what did record itself is close enough to our present charitable drives to be quite relevant to the ques tion. Owing to the endless persecutions and expulsions, the central communal need was the rebuilding and refurnishing of the synagogues. With regard to that constant communal task there is the following discussion:

If a man gives a Menorah, a Torah cover, or other gift to the synagogue, should he have his name recorded on it or not? The classic discussion of this question goes back to the thirteenth century, to Rabbi Solomon ben Aderet in Barcelona, Spain, the greatest Spanish authority of the time. He says that there are both Biblical and Talmudic precedents for recording the names of the donors. The Torah itself mentions the names of the benefactors in connection with their good deeds. Thus, Reuben is mentioned for his deliverance of his brother Joseph; and Boaz, in Bethlehem, is likewise mentioned. As for the Talmud, says Solomon ben Aderet, there is in Baba Bathra 133 b a clear record on the gifts to the Temple of Yose ben Yoezer and his son for their separate gifts. So, concludes the Spanish authority (this is in his Responsa, 582), it is proper to record the names of those who give gifts to the sanctuary, that they may have due memorial for their good deed, and also to open the door wide for other givers.

This opinion of Solomon ben Aderet is repeated by many later authorities, as for example, Mendel of Nichols burg, in the eighteenth century (“Zemach Zedek” 52), and others. Finally, this is recorded in a rather remarkable way in the Shulchan Aruch, the official law code, Yore Deah 249 : 13, especially in the note of Moses Isserles (Kracow, sixteenth century). He says: “While it is a sin to boast of one’s good deeds, nevertheless, it is proper to record the name of a donor on his gift, first, in order that this public record may prevent the gift’s being misapplied to another purpose unintended by the giver, and, second, that it should be a memorial for him.”

From all of the above we can come to a clear conclusion as to the spirit of Jewish tradition on the matter of recording the names of donors. If the purpose of announcing and recording the gift is merely boastful vanity, then to record the name is actually a sin (as Isserles said); but if it is for the purpose of safeguarding the gift, that it should not be misused for purposes unintended by the donor, or certainly, if for the more important purpose of encouraging other givers, then we should record the names, following the opinion of the great Spanish authority, Solomon ben Aderet, and thus, as he said, “open the door to other doers of good deeds.”

RRR 63-66

Temple Membership of Mixed Couple

Is it permissible to allow a mixed couple (i.e., in which one of the partners is an unconverted Gentile) to be come members as a family of our congregation? A number of newer congregations and a “Model Con stitution” sent out by the Union of American Hebrew Congregations headquarters suggest that such mixed couples be admitted to congregational membership. Is this justified by Jewish law and tradition? (From Judge Joseph G. Shapiro, Bridgeport, Connecticut and Rabbi Murray Blackman, Cincinnati, Ohio)

According to traditional Jewish law, which in this regard must be similar to laws of other groups, mixed marriage is illegal marriage. Besides the fact that the marriage is invalid according to Jewish law, it is also forbidden as a sin: “. . . neither shalt thou make marriages with them: thy daughter thou shalt not give unto his son, nor his daughter shalt thou take unto thy son” (Deuteronomy 7 : 3). The motive for the Biblical law had nothing to do with race or nationality. It is given clearly in the very next sentence of the Bible: “For he will turn away thy son from following Me, that they may serve other gods. . . .” The prohibition against mixed marriage was based upon a religious motivation: to guard the unique Hebrew monotheism against the surrounding paganism. In Maccabean times, the Greek pe riod, when there was a great intermingling of peoples, a still stricter decree was made to forbid even casual non marital sexual relationship between Jew and Gentile (see Sanhedrin 82c). Thus it was recorded as a law in the Shulchan Aruch, Even Hoezer 16.

In the Middle Ages, the fear of pagan idolatry was no longer real, since Christians and Mohammedans are not in Jewish law deemed to be idolaters. Yet these laws continued in force, since the small Jewish communities had to protect their identity against a hostile majority. To preserve the Jewish religion and to preserve the Jewish community amounted to the same thing. There could be no continuation of Judaism without maintaining Jewry, which was in a covenant relationship with God.

One can therefore understand why up to modern times such mixed relationships were considered legally a crime and why, even when informal, they might arouse violent reaction on the part of zealots (kanoin pogin bo).

Thus, the question which is asked here (“May such a mixed couple be granted membership in the congregation?”) would have astounded the Jewry of the past. It could not even be visualized as a remote possibility. So there is, of course, no discussion of such a possibility in Jewish law. We, nowadays, must therefore discuss this question only from the point of view of the spirit of Jewish tradition and of the ideals and aims which we share with the past as being important to protect and to advance.

It must then be said at the outset that it is a sign of general improvement in human relationship on the part of the non-Jewish world that the Gentile member of such a couple can visualize joining a Jewish synagogue. It is also a mark of a greater feeling of fellowship and a diminution of old suspicions on the part of Jews that the question of admitting such a couple can now be seriously raised and discussed. It is a good sign, then, that people are less hos tile to each other. Yet religious affiliation is far different from social friendliness. It is not a good sign that people who do not believe in Judaism at all would be quite willing to join a Jewish congregation and that a Jewish congregation would consider admitting them. This attitude reflects the general indifference nowadays as to the unique nature of the respective religions. People tend to feel that all religions are alike, that all exist merely to teach the Golden Rule or the Ten Commandments, so that it makes no difference to which one you belong. To a convinced Jew or to a convinced Christian such a cavalier attitude cannot possibly be acceptable.

Jewish congregations consist of Jews by birth or by conversion. All who wish to come into Judaism are welcome. No sincere applicant for conversion will be rejected. But we cannot allow the transformation of a Jewish congregation so that it ceases to be the family, the brotherhood, of Israel. Our people and our faith are one, joined in a covenant with God.

Aside from the diluting of Jewish identity, if this process of general admission developed, there would also be a practical problem. Anybody who is admitted as a member may become an officer. Surely it is intolerable that a woman who is a convinced trinitarian should become President of the Sisterhood of the congregation. There is no need to dwell on this question. It must be dealt with according to our feelings, since this new situation could not possibly find precedent in Jewish law.

Although all religious Jews share these feelings, there is to some extent a difference here between Reform and other branches of Judaism in regard to this matter. We would not emphasize the illegality of a civil mixed marriage. To some extent our attitude is the same as Orthodoxy, namely, that we do not recognize it as Jewish religious marriage. Therefore if the Gentile partner is converted to Judaism, we gladly remarry them, and we would consider the earlier part of the marriage retroactively valid. We would encourage the Gentile partner to become a Jew for the sake of the unity of the family. We may be sure that those who suggested the “Model Constitution” admitting such mixed families at once, had this decent motive in mind. Nevertheless, if they could all be admitted without the conversion of the Gentile partner, this policy would diminish the motivation for conversion.

Another difference between Reform and Orthodoxy in this matter relates to burial. Our Reform movement has long decided that a Gentile spouse may be buried in the family plot of the Jewish partner. Therefore, what we say to the Gentile spouse is: We do not despise your marriage. It is, of course, not a Jewish religious marriage, but you can make it so any time you wish by sincerely joining the Jewish faith. In Orthodoxy, your husband would be deemed a sinner. We, however, permit him to be a member of the congregation and allow your children, if you wish, to go to our religious school. But as long as you are a convinced Christian, you cannot be a member of a Jewish religious organization. You could not sincerely join it and we cannot sincerely accept your membership. The door of Judaism is always open to you. We do not urge you, but you are always welcome.

RRR 153-155

WOODEN COFFIN NAILS AND HANDLES

What is the basis for Orthodox objections to metal handles on the coffin and the use of metal nails in it?

There is some objection in law and custom to having coffins altogether. Many consider it proper to bury the dead surrounded only by loose boards, so that the body shall be in contact with the earth. In fact, however, coffins have been used from earliest times, and contact with the earth, the requirement that “the dust return to the dust” (i.e., to be in contact with the earth) is attained either by boring holes in the coffin or having the lower board removable, as Judah Hanasi required for himself (j. Kelaim IX : 4), or by putting dust in the coffin and/or pieces of clay on the eyes of the deceased (cf. Schach to Yore Deah 362 : 1).

Although there is no real objection to the use of a coffin, there is some objection to the use of a coffin other than a wooden coffin. This is based upon the statement of Maimonides (Yad, “Hilchos Avel” IV : 4) that one should bury in a coffin of wood. However, it is clear that even in ancient times, they used coffins of other material, such as marble or pottery (Semachot, chapter 8). As for the frequent modern use of metal caskets, this is a subject of some debate in modern Jewish law. The use of metal caskets is justified by Jacob Bruell in “Ben Zekunim,” p. 28 ff., and by Jacob Levinson, “Ha Torah ve-Hamada,” 26. However, there is no doubt that the bulk of Jewish law and custom is against the use of metal caskets, even though one would imagine that putting earth and clay in the casket would justify its use as it does the use of the completely wooden casket.

If, then, a wooden casket is used, why is it that some Orthodox people object to the use of metal handles or even metal nails (on the wooden casket)? The question is discussed by Greenwald in his compendium, “Kolbo Al Avelus” (p. 182). It is in answer to a question from a Rabbi Lerner of New York. Evidently there are large numbers of Jews in New York who insist that only wooden handles and wooden nails be used. The undertakers take advantage of this fact and charge a great deal extra for such special coffins. Since numerous people go to such trouble and expense to avoid metal handles and metal nails, one would imagine that the matter is firmly based in Jewish law or custom. Yet Greenwald, who specializes in all the details of burial customs, could not find anything to justify such scrupulousness. Apparently Rabbi Lerner, in writing to him, found some sort of vague justification in the fact that the Shulchan Aruch requires (in Orah Hayyim 180 : 5) that during the grace after meals, the knives on the tables should be covered because metal (the knife or sword) symbolizes the shortening of life (cf. Be’er Hetev). If that is the sole source, then it is a very shaky one. First, it is absurd to make an analogy between a knife and the handles and nails of a coffin, and, secondly, it is equally absurd to apply what the hving might do as protection against ill omens to what should be done for those already dead. As for keeping metal away from the dead because of ill omen, that, too, is unjustified. The Talmud says distinctly (b. Shabbas 151b) that we may put metal weights on the body of the dead on the Sabbath (to keep it from swelling while awaiting the funeral which could not take place on the Sabbath) and Rashi, in his “Pardes” (ed. Ehrenreich, p. 33), repeats the law, saying that we may put a sword or iron on the dead on the Sabbath.

It is clear, therefore, that the objection to the use of metal handles or nails in the wooden coffin has no clear root in Jewish law or even widespread custom, and is a folkloristic belief of dubious origin.

RRR 47-50

Use of Temple Organ by Christians

Millikin University, a good neighbor of the temple, has made a request of us. There are not enough elec tric or pipe organs at the University, and they ask for the use of the temple organ for the teaching of stu dents in the University School of Music. Obviously, some of the pupils will be taught Christian music. Some members of the congregation are in doubt as to the propriety of such use of the temple organ and ask for an opinion on the question. (From Rabbi Leo Turitz, Decatur, Illinois)

There is a great deal of law concerning the various degrees of sanctity of synagogue objects and also the relation of non-Jews to them. These laws are found mostly in the Talmud (Avodah Zara 40 ff.) and in the Shulchan Aruch, Orah Hayyim 154, where a variety of synagogue appurtenances and their respective sanctity are mentioned.

Naturally, the organ as a synagogue appurtenance is not mentioned in the classic list of sacred objects. The only possible mention of a pipe organ is the magrefah in the Talmud (Arakin 10 b ) but, of course, this never was part of Jewish synagogue worship until the modern Reform movement. However, since its introduction into modern synagogues, the organ has acquired a certain aura of reverence, since it is regularly used in the service. Hence the psycho-logical basis for the question and its emotional importance.

The only way in which such a question can be decided at all on the basis of Jewish tradition is to judge by analogy, and ask which of the synagogue appurtenances would we consider analogous to the organ and how sacred is that particular appurtenance.

It might be clearer at the outset if we make a general statement about the degrees of sanctity of synagogue objects. The most sacred object of all is the Sefer Torah. Then, also, the synagogue building itself has special sanctity. Objects which are used as auxiliaries to these two sacred things are given the appellation auxiliary holiness (Tashmishey Kedusha). The auxiliary holy things to the Sefer Torah are, for example, the mantle and the ark. Auxiliary sacred things to the building would be the bima where the Torah is read, the fixed benches or pews, and so forth. Those things which are secondary to these secondary objects have very little sacredness and are called the auxiliaries to the auxiliaries. Then there are objects which, while used for services, are not appendages to the Torah or to the building, such as a succah or a shofar.

What is involved in this careful gradation is whether these varied grades may be used for secular purposes or by a Christian. For example, may the Torah itself be handled by a Christian? May the pews of the synagogue be used for scrap lumber if the building is wrecked?

Even the Sefer Torah itself may, according to most opinions, be handled by Christians. See Maimonides, who, in “Hilchos Sefer Torah” X : 8, says definitely that the Sefer Torah may be handled by Christians. Also, therefore, the opinion of Joseph Mesas, in “Mayim Hayyim” (Orah Hayyim 13), in which he permits the opening of the ark to show the Torah to Christians, and so Abadiah Joseph in Volume III of his work “Yabiah Omer” (Yore Deah 15).

The question of the organ comes closest to the question of the sanctity of the building itself, rather than to the sanctity of the Sefer Torah, because generally the organ is a fixed part of the building. Of course if the organ is a movable electric organ its sanctity is less, since it is not really a part of the building. But if it is a fixed organ, built into the building, it partakes of the sanctity of the building. Yet, even so, that sanctity has its limitations. Use by a Christian of the building does not invalidate it for Jewish use. For example, even in a case of idolatry, once the idol is removed from the building, it may be used as a synagogue, provided the building itself was not meant to be worshiped. Thus, the Shulchan Aruch clearly says, in Yore Deah 145 : 3, that once the idols are removed from the building, the building may be used. Since this applies even to idolaters, how much more does it apply to Christians, who are not considered idolaters at all.

All this applies to the organ as part of the building, but the organ can best be compared to a musical instrument used in sacred Jewish service. The only such instrument that we have for analogy is the shofar. The shofar is definitely described in the law (see Tur, Orah Hayyim 154) as having no inherent sanctity, and it can be used for secular purposes because it is not considered one of the Tashmishey Kedusha; it is one of the Tashmishey Mitzvah.

Therefore, while it is understandable that there would be some sentiment in the congregation against allowing a college to use the organ for instruction, since certainly Christian music will be played on it during the week, nevertheless, the organ has sanctity only by analogy. It is partly analogous to the sanctity of the building itself. As to that fact, Christian use of the building does not invalidate its Jewishness. It is most closely analogous to what is called Tashmishey Mitzvah, appurtenances of a mitzvah and, like a shofar, may be used for a secular purpose. Hence it is logical to assume that the mood of Jewish law would permit such use as the question indicates.

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