Responsa

CURR 8-14

THE ETERNAL LIGHT

Is it actually required by Jewish legal tradition that there be an eternal light in front of the ark? Would it be a serious violation if the light is extinguished when, let us say, it is necessary to change gas pipes or electrical connections? (From Vigdor Kavaler, Rodef Shalom Temple, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.)

THE Eternal Light (ner tamid) is one of the most beloved symbols of the synagogue. When a synagogue is dedicated in modern times, one of the most impressive ceremonials is the first lighting of the Eternal Light. Since the use of an Eternal Light in the synagogue is based upon the Eternal Light commanded by God of Moses for the Tabernacle (Exodus 27:20 and Leviticus 24:2), one would imagine that this beloved symbol, with such ancient roots, would continually come up for discussion in the long sequence of Jewish legal literature. Yet the astonishing fact is that it is not mentioned at all as part of the synagogue appurtenances in any of the historic codes, the Mishnah, the Talmud, the Shulchan Aruch, or the others. One might say there is not a single classic mention of it (as far as I can find).

All the references that are usually cited as referring to an Eternal Light actually refer to an occasional light in the synagogue or else, more generally, to lights lit all over the synagogue during services, but not specifically in front of the Ark. This is the case with the various references in the Midrash. Numbers Rabba 4:20 speaks of the merit of Peultai (mentioned in I Chronicles 26:5) who lit a light before the Ark in the Temple in the morning and then again in the evening. Thus this reference speaks of a light kindled twice a day, but not burning permanently. The same reference is in Shir Rabba 2:5. Nevertheless, Heyman, in his Otzar Divre Chachamim, quotes this reference as saying (“Hamadlik, ” etc.): “He who kindles an eternal light before the Ark is blessed.” Heyman may have seen a manuscript or some edition from which this is an exact quotation, but since the midrash in Shir Rabba quotes the same story as Numbers Rabba about Peultai, it would seem that Heyman’s quotation is only a paraphrase. At all events, I have been unable to find that exact quotation which does speak of an Eternal Light. So also, Isaac Ashkenazi in his Va-ya’an Yitzchok (published Ancona, 1932) says that the Eternal Light is an old custom and gives various references among which are the Kol Bo 15 and the Responsa of Asher ben Jehiel, K’lal 5. Yet both these references speak merely of lighting a light in the synagogue for worship, but not necessarily before the Ark or a single light. So very likely it is with the other reference he gives to the Shelah. However a clear reference is found in the eighteenth century. Jedidiah Samuel Tarika in his RESPONSA Ben Jedid, Chapter 7, in discussing a church lamp says of it, “It is just like ours which we hang before the Ark and which we call ‘eternal’ (t’midim). ”

Actually the earliest definite reference that I have come across is in the Talmudic encyclopedia, Pachad Yitzchok, by Isaac Lamperonti, Rabbi of Ferrara, seventeenth- eighteenth century. Ismar Elbogen, in his Gottesdienst, p. 476, says that the first literary mention of the synagogue ner tamid is in the seventeenth century. He may be referring to this citation in Pachad Yitzchok, which actually uses the expression “ner tamid” for the Eternal Light in the synagogue. None of Elbogen’s reference notes indicate that he saw an earlier mention than this one. Also Krauss (Synagogale Altertuemer, p. 391, Note 3) who discusses every detail of the appurtenances in the older synagogues, has made only this single reference (i.e., to Pachad Yitzchok).

This absence of any earlier reference to the synagogue Eternal Light is all the more remarkable because the general subject of lights in the synagogue is frequently discussed, from the time of the Tosefta through the Talmud, the Gaonim, and the later legalists. These discussions deal with the donation of lights and lamps to the synagogue (Tosefta Megilla III :3 and b. Arachin 6b) and whether these gifts may be changed for other purposes more needful to the synagogue at the time. Other discussions are on the question of whether a person may study by the light of the synagogue candles or lamps on the Sabbath, since it is gen erally prohibited to use the Sabbath lights for study, lest the person tilt them to improve the oil flow (b. Shabbas 12a). In recent years the discussion has been whether petroleum may be used instead of olive oil, the question being inspired by the fact that the petroleum, although it burns longer, does not have a pleasant odor (see Moses Schick, Orah Hayyim 83). Or there are discussions as to whether the synagogue lights may be used for secular purposes (to light one’s way home, for example; Shulchan Aruch, Yore Deah 151:19; 154:13, 14). Further references to the question of whether the purpose intended by the donor of lamps and lights may be changed are: Meir of Rothenburg, ed. Berlin, 299; David ben Zimri (Radbaz II: 644); Shulchan Aruch, Yore Deah 151:19. Additional references to the question of studying by the synagogue lights are the Responsa of the Gaonim, ed. Lyck, 59, Chemda Genuza, 7. These references are discussed in such broad variety and so fully in the literature that we can hardly dismiss, as mere chance, the omission of any mention of the “Eternal” Light.

Of course, it is conceivable that although an Eternal Light may have been used in the synagogue right from the beginning, it just happens that no question ever arose about it. This is hardly believable because the various problems constantly discussed in reference to synagogue lights could very well have arisen with regard to the Eternal Light, had it actually been in general use. Clearly, it must have become an honored symbol only in recent centuries.

Because of this complete absence of earlier and classical reference to the synagogue Eternal Light in the legal literature, J. Wiesner (in Ben Chananiah, III, p. 581) surmises that it was borrowed from the use of an eternal light in Christian churches. But Wiesner is rather extreme in these matters. Leopold Loew, the editor of the magazine Ben Chananiah adds a note saying, “Why not say that the Jews derived it from the ner tamid in the Tabernacle and the Ancient Temple?” It well may be, therefore, that when the Eternal Light became customary a few centuries ago, it was seen to be analogous to the Eternal Light mentioned in the Bible for Tabernacle and Temple.

Be that as it may, the synagogue Eternal Light certainly has been in use for three centuries, and that is long enough for it to have become a beloved symbol. Evidently, its association with the biblically ordained Eternal Light for Tabernacle and Temple gave this symbol of the synagogue (whenever it did arise) an immediate and now a continuous sanctity. Therefore, to answer the question as to how uninterruptedly it must burn, we must consider it by analogy with the Eternal Light of the Tabernacle and Temple, with which it has now been for centuries associated.

How eternal was the original Tabernacle-Temple Eternal Light meant to be? Was it to burn without any interruption at all? We know that the fire on the altar is described as “not to be extinguished” (Leviticus 6:5). But the two biblical references to the Eternal Light, ner tamid, do not say that it is not to be extinguished. It is quite possible that the word tamid here does not mean “eternal,” but “regular.” In other words, the lights were to be kindled every day, but not necessarily to burn all of the day, so that one day’s light should continue into the next, uninterrupted. In fact, Rashi to the passage in Exodus simply says that “tamid” here means “every night.” Rashi’s statement is an epitome of his argument in b. Hagiga 26b. The Tosfos there partially disagrees with Rashi and says that one of the two Tabernacle and Temple lights did miraculously stay alight permanently. The Talmud also (in Tamid 30b) describes how the lamps were cleaned every day at dusk. The priest cleaned every one except one which remained alight until the others were cleaned and rekindled. This one light was called “the western light,” and it is presumed that our single, eternal light is derived from (or is analogous to) this.

At all events, Isaac Lamperonti, in the first reference which I have found to ner tamid, used in the synagogue (s.v., ner tamid) says that since Rashi has explained that “tamid” in relation to the Tabernacle and Temple Light did not mean “continuous,” but “regular,” therefore we must conclude frohi Rashi that the ner tamid which we now have in the synagogue, which is to us “the small sanctuary,” need not burn at all except at the hour of prayer. (The phrase, “the small sanctuary,” for the synagogue, comes from b. Megilla 29a, based upon Ezekiel 11:16.) Here we have then, a clear statement that the light may even be extinguished.

But, of course, we must bear in mind that two centuries ago they had only oil lamps or tallow candles, and to keep a light continuous would be a difficult task. This may be an additional reason for assuming that they never had an Eternal Light in the synagogue in the past, namely, the technical difficulty involved. At all events, nowadays, with gas or electricity, it is easily possible to have the Eternal Light actually continuous, except for some accident. In that case, it should certainly be maintained as such. But should it be necessary, for purposes of rewiring or pipe refitting, to extinguish it, then there is no actual violation of the law involved at all. It is for us to maintain the general ideal of an eternally burning light, but we must remember that the authorities doubt whether even the original light in the Tab ernacle and Temple itself was actually meant “never to be extinguished.”

CURR 186-188

MARRIAGE WITH KARAITES

A Karaite young girl, whose family comes from Egypt and who says she has always considered herself Jewish, asks a rabbi to officiate at her marriage with a Jewish young man. Shall he, as a Reform rabbi, officiate at the marriage? (From H. M. Y., Cherry Hill, New Jersey.)

THE status of the Karaites in Jewish law has shifted a number of times. Sometimes they are received and sometimes they are excluded; as for example, Isserles says plainly, we must not marry with them {Even Hoezer, 4:3 7) . No one questions that they are of Jewish descent, but the question involved from time to time is the question of their legitimacy. If their marriages were deemed invalid, then the children of course cannot be illegitimate in Jewish law, since a child born out of wedlock is not deemed illegitimate in Jewish law. Only a child born out of a union that cannot be legitimatized is illegitimate, such as a union between a man and a too close relative, or between a man and a woman married to someone else. So what is really held against the Karaites is that their marriages are deemed valid as a general rule, but their divorces are deemed invalid. Therefore, if a woman is divorced by Karaite law and remarried by Karaite law, her offspring of the second union will be illegitimate. This is the basis for their rejection.

But there is no doubt that emotions were involved. In periods when the groups were hostile to each other, the laws were strictly interpreted. Therefore nothing is to be gained for the present by following the ups and downs of the law. I can tell you simply that one of the greatest authorities, David ben Zimri of Egypt, who had more connection with Karaites perhaps than any other rabbi, is very liberal about them. (cf. A Treasury of Responsa, p. 122 ff.) In David ben Zimri’s responsum on marriage with a Falasha, he speaks by analogy about the Karaites, and he takes the general point of view that their marriages are deemed valid but their divorces are deemed invalid, and because of this, if any Karaite is a descendant from a woman remarried after a Karaite divorce, such a person may be deemed a mamzer and cannot marry a Jew.

This is precisely the burden under which the B’nai Israel labors in the state of Israel today. The Orthodox rabbis, on the analogy with the Karaites, consider their marriages valid and their divorces invalid. Therefore the group is under the suspicion of mamzerus.

However, David ben Zimri continues that nevertheless, many of the Karaites have intermarried with Jews, and he says that by the law of average, the likelihood of illegitimacy, i.e., the percentage of divorce and “remarriage” and of children from this “remarriage” is so small a percentage that they could be easily considered legitimate and should be accepted into the community. David ben Zimri concludes that he agrees with Maimonides’ son, the Nagid Abraham, that they should be received into the community. Similarly, Jacob Castro (died in Egypt 1610) contemporary of Joseph Caro, in his notes to Shulchan Aruch (Hilchos Gerim) said that Karaites simply must promise before a Beth Din that they will observe the oral law.

Beyond all this, there is a special consideration involved in the fact that we are Reform Jews. We accept the validity of civil divorce, at least in the United States. In some countries the Reform congregations give a form of divorce which really does not change the situation in the eyes of Orthodoxy, since these Reform divorces are considered by the Orthodox authorities as invalid (just like the Karaite divorces). Therefore we frequently marry people who are children of women who had been only civilly divorced and have remarried. The children of such a union are certainly illegitimate in Orthodox law. Yet we marry them without hesitation.

The reason for refusing a Karaite certainly does not have validity for Reformers. If we accepted the old ground for refusal, we could not marry a considerable percentage of people we do marry. Since the authorities agree that Karaite marriages are valid and Karaites are of Jewish descent, and since the only objection is the validity of their divorce and the consequences drawn from it, we should have no hesitation in officiating at the marriage of a Karaite and a Jew.

(Originally published in Central Conference of American Rabbis Yearbook, Vol. LXXV, 1965.)

CURR 183-185

MARRIAGE WITH ETHICAL CULTURISTS

A member of the congregation is contemplating marriage with a girl of Jewish birth who was raised in the Ethical Culture Society. Does she need conversion before the marriage? (From Rabbi Michael A. Robinson, Croton-on-Hudson, New York.)

THE problem involved in the question is one which has been discussed in the Jewish literature for many centuries. The reason for the frequency of the question is the result of the phenomenon of the Spanish and Portuguese Marranos who for centuries kept escaping from those countries to Jewish communities, and coming to countries of Jewish residence, desired to be reaffiliated with the Jewish community. Some of these families of Marranos had not been practicing Judaism for generations (except perhaps in some rudimentary, surreptitious fashion).

Since these Marranos had been practicing Catholics for many generations, the question which arose was: Did they need conversion before being accepted into the Jewish community? The classic answer to this question by Solomon ben Simon Duran of Algiers (see The Responsa Literature, 218) was that as far as marriage was concerned, they are still Jews and that it would be wrong to convert them (be cause converting them would imply that until that conversion they were not obliged to obey the commandments, which is not so). In fact Duran says that as long as it was proved that the mother was Jewish, they are Jewish “up to the end of all generations.” Of course there were later, stricter opinions based on the accusation that they could have escaped sooner than they did, but in general the opinion of the law with regard to marriage is that they are Jews (see also Reform Jewish Practice, page 78).

Now, of course, the liberality of this judgment on the part of the law towards these Marranos is due (besides their birth) to the fact that their non-observance of Judaism was due to compulsion and not to free choice. Our question therefore narrows itself to this: If a Jew in America, where there is no religious compulsion, joins the Unitarian Church or the Ethical Culture Society, is he or she still to be considered a Jew and therefore not needing conversion? I have discussed this question rather fully in Recent Reform Responsa (see p. 56). Here as you will see, the question pivots on the fact of whether such people who joined these two groups meant by their joining to abandon the Jewish community. If they did, they come under the heading of “those who depart from the ways of the congregation.” This is described (on p. 58) as follows:

“Maimonides ( Hilchos Avel, 1:10) defines clearly what is meant by “those who depart from the ways of the congregation.” He says those who depart from the ways of the congregation, namely, those who break off the yoke of the commandments, are not included in Kelal Isroel, in the doing of mitzvos, in honoring the festivals, in attendance at synagogues, and so forth. This statement is embodied as law in the Shulchan Aruch, Yore Deah 345:5. Clearly, this describes those who join a Unitarian Church. They no longer attend the synagogue, they no longer observe the Jewish festivals. The fact that the form of church that they have joined is not trinitarian is no more relevant than if they had joined a Moslem mosque.”

This gives us a means of judgment of the Jewish status of such people. If, for example, a man joins the Unitarian Church and gives up his membership in the Temple and breaks off his relationship with the Jewish community, he is no longer a Jew. If his joining is merely an additional membership to the synagogue affiliation, he may be considered a Jew.

In this light, we can judge the members of the Ethical Culture Society liberally. When Felix Adler carefully called his organization a “Society,” he indicated that he did not mean that those who joined his Society should break with Jewish life. Two generations of experience with them indicates that they still consider themselves Jews, that most frequently they marry with Jews and associate with Jews.

Therefore on the basis of the spirit of the law, it is a reasonable answer to say that the young lady in question need not be converted to Judaism. She is a Jewess, but as happened frequently (especially in the cases of reconversion of apostates) the custom arose to have the people involved promise loyalty to Judaism (chaverus). If the bride will promise that she will continue to support her husband’s membership in the Temple and will raise the children as Jewish, giving them a Jewish religious education, then there is no impediment to this marriage.

CURR 129-132

MEMORIAL LIGHTS IN THE HOME

Is the memorial light which is kindled in the house of the deceased during shivah a well established observance? What are the rules and customs which govern it? (From Louis J. Freehof, San Francisco, California.)

THERE is a Biblical verse and also a Talmudic statement which have been cited as a basis for the custom of lighting a seven-day memorial light in the house of the deceased. The Biblical verse is in Proverbs 20:27: “The candle (or the “light”) of the Lord is the soul of man.” The Talmudic statement is in the final request of Rabbi Judah the Prince (b. Ket. 103a). He asked that after his death the light should be kept burning, the table should remain set, and the bed remain arranged.

However, if we follow through the development of the legal literature, we find that none of the classic legal authorities based any fixed requirement upon this verse or on this statement in the Talmud. In fact, the custom of the home shivah light is not mentioned at all in any of the basic codes.

An evidence that the custom was not prevalent even in the sixteenth century in the times of Moses Isserles, can be seen from the fact that although Isserles is careful to record all worthy customs (minhagim) he does not mention this custom at all. In Orah Hayyim 610:4, he speaks of lighting a candle in memory of the dead on Yom Kippur in the synagogue, but he does not mention the custom of a home memorial light at all. Nor does he mention such a custom in Yore Deah in the section dealing with the observances in the house of the deceased. Moses of Przmyzl in the next generation, who collected all the proper customs in his work Matteh Moshe, does not mention this home custom either.

Just when the custom arose it is hard to determine. All such folk customs develop “underground,” as it were, and then suddenly appear. Tekuchinski, in his recent work, Gesher Ha-Chayim (Vol. I, Chapter 20, p. 194) gives as his authority for the custom, “the later teachers” (ha-acharonim).

By the seventeenth century there is a full discussion of the custom in the responsa Nachlas Shiva, 73 (by Samuel b. David Halevi of Poland and Germany, 1625-1681). After that the custom is mentioned in many of the later legal works. Nathan Landau (Kenaf Renana II, 37 Yore Deah) speaks of it. So does Solomon Haas in Kerem Shelomo to Yore Deah, 399. So, also, Greenwald in Kol Bo Al Avelus, p. 361 and Note 20, and Hirshowitz, Ozar Kol Minhage Jeshurun, p. 305.

These later scholars seem to grope around for a justification for the custom. Of course they cite the verse in Proverbs and the dying request of Rabbi Judah. Obviously Rabbi Judah did not mean that a light should be kindled at his death, but that after his death everything should remain as it was in his lifetime: his table, his bed and his light. They also find some support in the Maavor Yabbok, the compendium on death by Aaron Berachia ben Moses of Modena, the Italian cabbalist (died 1639). He compares the body of man to the tallow of the candle and his soul to the flame. They also find some hint in the Zohar (Chaye Soroh) where the candle that burned in Sarah’s tent (during her lifetime) was evidence of the presence of the shechina. Nevertheless, they cannot, nor do they attempt to find any chain of legal authorities for the custom.

Since, clearly, the custom is hardly more than two centuries old, these later legal authorities have not yet had time to iron out all the irregularities in the observance and to arrive at a clear and a definite series of rules for it. Samuel b. David Halevi (Nachlas Shiva, 17th century) sets down the first rule, namely, that the candle must be lit as soon as the person dies and burn for seven days. Even if he dies on a holiday and therefore the shivah is postponed till after the holiday, the lighting must not be postponed till after the holiday when the shivah begins, but must be kindled at once and burn for seven days.

Solomon Haas (in Kerem Shelomo) repeats that it must be lit the first seven days after the death, and adds that it can only be lit in the place where the man dies; i.e., if the relatives sit shivah in another place (or in another city) then they may not kindle the seven-day light at all.

However, this restriction is not confirmed by Nathan Landau (Kenaf Renana). He says that the light must be lit wherever the mourners sit shivah. Finally, Tekuchinski, in Gesher Ha-Chayim (Vol. I, p. 198), brings some order into the observance by a sort of compromise, and this compromise can be considered to be the present custom. The light must be kindled for the first seven days after the death (i.e., whether actual sitting of shivah is postponed by the holiday or not). Even if a man dies the day before the holiday and the onset of the holiday voids the shivah altogether, nevertheless the light must burn for seven days, even though they do not sit shivah for more than an hour. Preferably the light must be kindled in the place where he died, but if he died elsewhere (as in a hospital) it must be kindled where the family sits shivah.

To sum up: The custom is not more than about two centuries old. There is no firm basis for it in the law, but it has become a well established observance, and its mode of observance is generally as given by Tekuchinski and cited above.

CURR 236-238

HOMOSEXUALITY

A group in the Temple is planning a discussion program on the question of homosexuality. What is there in Jewish law on this subject? (From I.B.C., Florida.)

CONSIDERING the prevalence of homosexuality in the East, one can say in general that it is remarkable how little place the whole question occupies in Jewish law. After the biblical prohibitions, there is almost nothing in the Mishnah, Talmud, and Codes on the question. The Talmud itself explains (perhaps unconscious of the fact that it is explaining it) why there is so little discussion of the question. In b. Kiddushin 82a it discusses the prohibition of seclusion (yichud) with any of the forbidden sexual degrees of relationship; i.e., a man must avoid being, or must not be permitted to be, alone with a woman with whom he is forbidden to have sexual relationship. Then the Talmud says that Jewish people are not under the suspicion of homosexuality (i.e., it is highly improbable among Jews) and therefore it is not forbidden for a Jewish man to be alone with another Jewish man.

There is an interesting development of this Talmudic statement in the way this dictum (that Jews are not suspected, etc.) is carried over to the Shulchan Aruch. The Shulchan Aruch (in Even Hoezer 24) states the law as derived from the Talmud that since Jewish men are not suspected of homosexuality, they are not forbidden to be alone with each other. Then Joseph Caro adds: “However, in these generations when sinful men have increased, it is better to avoid isolation with another male.” Moses Rifkes (Poland, seventeenth century) in his Be’er Ha-Gola, gives the Talmudic reference for the first part of the statement; but as for the latter part of the statement (“Nowadays when evil men have increased,” etc.) he notes carefully: “These are his own words; there is no reference for this precaution in the Talmudic literature, and Joseph Caro makes the precaution on his own authority.” Why should Joseph Caro have made such an extra precaution which the Talmud does not require, against males being secluded together? The Bes Shemuel (Samuel of Furth) explains, in the name of Joel Sirkes (Poland, sixteenth century), that in the land in which he (Joseph Caro) lived, homosexuality was rampant, but “not in our land,” hence it is not required for males to avoid isolation (see Bach to Tur, same reference). Of course this is correct historically. The Arab lands were notorious for homosexuality and Joseph Caro knew that. But to the rest of Jewry it seemed farfetched to prohibit males to associate with each other for fear of homosexuality.

Now as to the Biblical sources: They are Leviticus 18:22 and 20:13, prohibiting male sexuality with males; also Deuteronomy 23:18, which prohibits male prostitutes who were maintained in connection with the idolatrous temples. So, more specifically, I Kings 14:24, speaking of the evils of Judah when it became corrupt, says that the people copied “the abominations of the nations around them and had male prostitution.” The prohibition is carried over into the Mishnah, Sanhedrin VII, 4, where it is briefly mentioned among the whole list of sexual relationships. Then the fullest discussion in the Talmud is in Sanhedrin 54b- There is a discussion whether illicit intercourse is punishable by death if it is involved with a person under the age of nine. The Rambam in Hilchos lssure Biah 1:14 summarizes this Talmudic discussion and says that both the active and passive partners are culpable (as the Talmud says) but the punishment of death should not be inflicted upon a boy under nine (evidently a young boy would hardly initiate such action). But Maimonides adds that although the punishment of death does not apply in this case, they should be punished by the courts. In other words, such intercourse with a boy under nine is potur from the death penalty, but asur (forbidden per se) and should be punished.

All in all, considering how much detail there is in the law on every kind of forbidden sexual relationship, the very paucity of biblical and post-biblical law on the matter speaks well for the normalcy and the purity of the Jewish people.

CURR HALLOWEEN

HALLOWEEN MASKS

Is it contrary to the mood of Jewish legal tradition for Jewish children to dress up in disguises and costumes on Halloween and to go “trick or treating” on that day? (From Rabbi Jack Segal, Far Rockaway, New York.)

HALLOWEEN, which is now a play-night for children, was originally one of the special saint’s days in the Christian church. Actually, it is older than Christianity and according to the Encyclopedia Britannica, it was a pre-Christian Druidic observance in England and Ireland and, in fact, the giving of nuts and apples, etc., which was made part of Halloween, was taken from the Roman festival in honor of the harvest goddess Pomona. The Christian Church, as it did with a number of heathen festivals (since it could not wean the people away from their favorite pagan folk festival), embodied it in the Christian calendar as All Saints’ Day; and the eve before, All Hallows Eve (when, in pagan times, fires were lighted) is now Halloween, with its pumpkin illumination, etc. But as far as we are concerned, it has come down as a date in the Christian religious year.

The first question we should ask is this: To what extent may Jews participate in a folk festival which has vague religious connotations? There is a perfect parallel to the question of Halloween in the Gentile observation of New Year’s Day. New Year’s Day also has (or had been given by the early Church) a Christian religious connotation. It is celebrated in the Church as the Feast of the Circumcision, being the eighth day after the birth of Jesus (Christmas). Should this Christian redefinition of an old festival render the day too specifically Christian for us to participate in it, by sending greetings and gifts to our Christian neighbors? Certainly it is, basically, forbidden to Jews to participate in Christian festivals. Would New Year’s Day and the almost perfect parallel, Halloween, be therefore forbidden to Jews, as far as participation in them is concerned? This very question is discussed by one of the greatest late medieval authorities, Israel Isserlein, in his Responsa collection Terumas ha-Deshen, 195. (In the East European edition, this resposum is out of the regular order and is printed in the back of the book.) He says there is no objection to sending gifts to Gentiles on this festival. Of course, the Jew who is scrupulous will try to send his gifts, not precisely on that very day, but the day before; but if the day before happens to be Shabbas, there is no real objection to sending it on the very day itself, because (he says) it is not really a day of worship, but a day of good luck, etc. So we may conclude as to Halloween which has long ceased to be Christian in any religious sense, that there is no real objection to Jewish children participating in it.

But now we must ask the second question: Is the costuming and the “trick or treating” contrary to the spirit of the Jewish tradition? Actually, there is a biblical basis upon which objection could well be raised. The Bible, in Deuteronomy 22:5, clearly prohibits men from putting on women’s garments and women from putting on men’s garments. The purpose of the prohibition is to guard against immorality, so that a woman disguised as a man or a man disguised as a woman should not stay long in the company of the other sex. This biblical prohibition is cited frequently in such questions as whether a man may dye his beard, since the dyeing of hair is deemed to be a woman’s procedure. It is also cited in discussions about Purim, where people costumed in various ways and wore masks.

The full discussion of this question is found in the last responsum of Judah Minz, the great Rabbi of Padua in the sixteenth century. He cites a whole string of authorities, and says that he and his famous predecessors observed this masking and costuming and merrymaking all their lives in their various communities and never raised any objection to it. Clearly there is no objection to it, or they would have objected. Then he adds an interesting comment which is very close to our “trick or treat.” The students, as part of the hilarity of Purim, would snatch food; and he says, “This custom should not be considered ‘gezel’ (i.e., robbery) but is part of the fun of the occasion.”

So we may conclude on the basis of the spirit of tradition that neither the fact that Halloween has a vague Christian association, nor the masking or costuming or the faking of food, etc., give any ground for prohibiting Jewish children from participating in the Halloween costuming, disguising, or “trick or treating.”

CURR 93-96

HALLOWEEN MASKS

CURR 132-138

THE ALIGNMENT OF GRAVES

The graves in the cemetery are aligned in the same direction. Is this a requirement of Jewish law? Suppose the shape of a new, unused parcel of land makes it convenient to align the graves in another direction; would this be permitted? (From Louis J. Freehof, San Francisco, California.)

THE alignment of graves in any predetermined direction, such as North to South or East to West, etc., is not a requirement of Jewish law. In Yore Deah 362, where a discussion of grave-alignment would properly belong, the commentary Pische Teshuva discusses the matter, but the Shulchan Aruch itself has not the slightest mention of it.

This is a negative proof, but there is also a more positive one which is cited by the great Hungarian authority, Moses Sofer, in a discussion of the matter in his responsa (Yore Deah 332). He calls attention to the geometrical discussion of the burial cave in the Talmud (Baba Bathra 101 ff.). The question at issue in the Talmud was: How many graves could be dug in that cave? By the debate (and the illustrations) it was evident that they dug the graves into the walls of the cave in all directions. Thus, for example, if the cave ran from East to West, the grave dug into the back wall ran from East to West (continuing the axis of the cave). Those graves which were dug in the long side walls ran from North to South (and South to North); and those which were dug in the corners, ran diagonally Northwest to Southeast, etc. Thus it is clear (as Moses Sofer correctly argues) that the Talmud has no restrictions at all as to the directions of graves.

Yet, while it is evident that the Talmud has no requirement of grave alignment, nevertheless the custom in Europe (at least) in the Middle Ages developed into a definite preference for aligning the graves in each cemetery in one direction. This can be seen from the large responsum of David Oppenheimer (1664-1733), the famous Rabbi of Prague, in his responsum which is published at the end of the responsa volume of Yair Chaim Bachrach (Chavos Yair). The problem discussed in this responsum is as follows: An excavation was going on for some building. During the digging for the foundations, human bones were discovered and the question was whether these were bones of Jewish dead. If they were the bones of Jewish dead, then a Cohen could not enter the completed building. David Oppenheimer gives the inquirer the following test to use: If the graves are helterskelter, they cannot be graves of the Jewish dead because the graves of Jews are always aligned in orderly fashion. The same rule of alignment is revealed in the question asked of Yekuthiel Enzil of Przmyzl; it is in his Responsa 37. Again, a house was being built and bones were discovered, and the question was were they bones of Jewish dead or not. The questioner was sure they were Jewish dead because they were aligned in orderly fashion.

Thus in ancient Palestine, they buried in any direction, depending on the layout of the burial caves; but in the Diaspora (at least in Europe where they did not bury in caves) they laid out the graves in orderly fashion. Just why the custom rose to align the graves in orderly fashion in Europe seems fairly clear: First, as we have mentioned, because they no longer buried in caves where they would use the walls and the corners. Secondly, because, as indicated in a number of the relevant responsa, they were buried as we pray, towards Jerusalem. A further reason gradually developed, that the direction of the body should in itself express the faith in the resurrection of the dead; namely, that when the Messiah comes and the dead will rise, they will be facing in the right direction for the journey, without delay, to the Holy Land.

While the faith in resurrection was clearly a determining factor, nevertheless it did not dictate precisely the direction in which the body must lie. After all, the body was laid on its back, facing upward. What, then would be the direction toward Jerusalem? For that reason, perhaps many customs of varying alignment arose. Another complication which led to a confusion of customs was the belief that only in Palestine would the dead rise from their graves and walk. But outside of Palestine there would be tunnels (m’chillos) along which they would roll to the Holy Land. One can see the differing customs by considering the question and response in the various responsa that discuss the matter. The questioner will mention that the burial custom in his city is North to South, and the respondent will say that in his city the custom is from East to West, or vice versa. Sometimes the custom had nothing to do with the cardinal points of the compass, but the dead were laid in the cemetery with their feet pointing to the cemetery gate, (i.e., to be ready to march when the Messiah gives the signal). Therefore Moses Sofer, in his well known responsum on the matter, when he permits a congregation to change direction of grave alignment for practical reasons (the shape of the land, etc.) suggests that another gateway might be opened in another wall so that the feet of the people buried in the new direction be pointed to the exit gate.

Out of all these difficulties various customs arose. Most of the important references to these customs are cited by Greenwald in his Kol Bo, p. 177-8. Perhaps the most frequent one is that the lines of the rows were North to South Therefore each grave in these lines was East to West, and in that grave the body was laid with its feet to the East and its head to the West (so that when he rose on his feet in Messiah’s time, he would be facing East). Another custom, almost as prevalent (judging by the questions asked) was that the rows were East and West and therefore the bodies lay North and South. In fact, one scholar, Elazar Lev of Ungvar, in his Pekudoth Elazar 123, makes a novel suggestion: that all the graves on one side of the cemetery gate be arranged in one direction, and those on the other side of the gate be arranged in the opposite direction; all this, in order to fulfill (when Messiah comes) the Talmudic dictum that all our “turnings should be to the right.”

The very multiplicity of customs (East-West or North-South or towards the gate) would itself be an indication that we are not dealing here with a matter of law. If it were a matter of law, the scholars would have finally arrived at a definite decision after all these centuries. It is only local custom which is permitted to remain so vague and varied, since it is generally accepted that local customs, if they are not absurd in themselves, should always be tolerated and even respected. Further evidence that this is merely a matter of custom is the fact cited by Greenwald, of two great rabbis, Maharil and Abraham of Prostitz, who specifically asked that they be buried in a different direction from the other people in the cemetery. If the grave alignment were really a matter of law, they certainly would not have violated it for personal reasons. However, Abraham Isaac Glick (in Yad Yitzchok, Vol. III, 83) warns against breaking the alignment (whichever the local alignment may be) when burying the body of an average person. If a famous person is buried in irregular alignment, it is assumed that he had a valid reason for it; but if an average person is so buried, people may later imagine that he or she was purposely buried in irregular alignment because of some sin which he or she committed. This would constitute an injustice to the dead. Therefore Abraham Glick suggests, in the case of a woman who was buried from South to North instead of from North to South as the rest of the bodies were buried, that her tombstone be placed in conformity with the other tombstones so that people visiting the cemetery may not misjudge her in the future.

While it might seem desirable to shift the tombstone on an individual grave to adjust the alignment, the need for alignment is not so serious as to justify disturbing the body. Chaim Yeruchem in his Birchas Chaim, II:3, says that since the alignment is based upon varying customs, we may not disinter a body which was buried out of alignment in order to rebury it in accordance with the direction of the other bodies in the cemetery.

All these variations indicate that we are dealing here with customs which vary from locality to locality; yet whatever the local custom is, it should, generally be conformed with and the dead buried in alignment, unless some highly honored man requests a variation for himself.

The final question which we must ask is this: If, for example, the local custom is to bury North to South and the cemetery has a long, narrow, unused piece of land in which it is only possible to arrange the new graves East to West, may the community vary its own local custom and bury, now, in a new direction? This is precisely the question which came before the great Hungarian authority, Moses Sofer (cited above). He mentions the variations in custom which we have recorded and says in general that the custom is not so firmly grounded that if there is a good reason for changing, a change may not be permitted. In fact, he says (rather playfully) that one can go to the Holy Land either directly South to the Mediterranean and then turn East; or go directly East to Constantinople. So in general the alignment directions are not important and they may be changed. More directly than this, Abraham Isaac Glick, in the responsum cited above, says forthrightly there is no source in the Talmud or the authorities (Poskim) determining the direction of the alignment of graves.

To sum up: In Mishnah and Talmud, they clearly buried in all directions, since they speak of graves dug in the walls of caves. In Europe the custom of alignment arose; but because of the various difficulties mentioned above (the body lying on its back, etc.) local customs vary as to what should be the proper alignment, some North to South, some East to West, and some merely with the feet pointing to the exit gate. The authorities are clear that no firm law is involved here and, therefore, alignment may be varied for any substantial reason.

CURR 22-25

EMBROIDERED NAME OF GOD ON ARK CURTAIN

The Tetragrammaton is embroidered on an Ark curtain in a synagogue in Buenos Aires. A colleague objected that it is not permitted. (Question discussed by Dr. Nathan Blum, Buenos Aires, Brazil.)

THE book which the colleague quoted as source for the objection is Leket Ha-Kemach Ha-Chodesh, a work recently collected by Jacob Zvi Katz, who was Rabbi in Sabasia and now is Rabbi of the Ashkenazic congregation in Amsterdam. Being in Amsterdam, he saw the great library of the Etz Chaim Yeshiva, containing many books of Shaalos-u-Teshuvos that he had never seen before. Therefore he decided to enlarge and to modernize the collection Leket Ha-Kemach made by Moses Hagiz.

The Berech Yitzchok which he quotes is by Isaac of Fass, published in Salonika in 1803. Responsum 2 in this book is by Chaim Abulafia who says, quoting the Shach, that embroidery is forbidden only on a tallis, because appurtenances of a mitzvah (tashmishey mitzvah) may be thrown aside and the Name of God on it thus defiled, but that it is not forbidden on Torah covers and peroches, which are appurtenances of holiness (tashmishey kedusha). Isaac of Fass, in the next Teshuvah, answers him to the effect that the Shach meant to permit it only on the Torah mantles and not on the curtain, which is only the appurtenance of appurtenances (tashmishey tashmishey) of holiness. However, this distinction is artificial, and we can certainly rely on Abulafia that it is permitted. Your arguments are sound, therefore. The curtain is never in danger of being brought to an unclean place, and that is all that is important here.

But, of course, there still remains the basic question, whether in the first place (l’chatchilla) it is permitted to embroider the Name of God on the curtain even if one could be sure that it would be carefully protected against being taken to an unclean place. The whole discussion should be based on the Talmud passage in Arachin 6a, where the question comes up of a Gentile who gave a beam of wood for the Temple with the Name of God on it. The Talmud says that the Name of God should be erased and that the beam can then be used.

Now, the Talmud discusses the reason that the Name of God may be erased, and it says that this Name is not sacred because it is not written in the normal place for the writing of God’s Name. Rashi gives two explanations of this reason, namely, that the Name of God is holy only when the text is written with the Name in its proper place, but the Name alone is not holy and, therefore, can be erased. Rashi ad mits that this is a sound explanation, but he prefers a more artificial reason. Yet the explanation as we have given it is sound, as we can tell from the fact that the Rambam says that the Name can be erased from metal vessels, etc. (See Hilchos Yesodeh Torah 6:1 ff.). This is based on Messeches Sofrim V. Therefore, even if the Name of God on the curtain were destroyed, it would not be a sin because the Name is not “in its proper place,” as the Talmud says, and therefore is not holy.

But there is no reason why we should debate this ourselves, as if this were a new question. In the last generation the greatest Galician authority decided that there is no objection to embroidering the Name of God on the mantles, etc., namely, Shalom Mordecai Schwadron of Berzun (Maharsham). This responsum of the Maharsham is not found, as far as I know, in his regular Teshuvos, but is in a book called Jerushalaim D’Dahava by Benzion Katz, who was Rabbi of Czernovitz. He discusses a similar question, and the Maharsham says as follows, in clear words: “But as for sewing (as opposed to writing) there is no holiness involved at all in the sewn or embroidered Name, and therefore the Rambam did not concern himself about that in his Teshuva quoted by the Bes Joseph in Yore Deah 283.” Because I am certain that this book {Jerushalaim D’Dahava) is not found in Buenos Aires, since it is a rare book, I am sending you the title page and the page of the Teshuva of Shalom Mordecai Schwadron.

Let us, then, sum up: The only possible objection to embroidering the Name is that it would be brought (as with a tallis) to an unclean place. This caution does not apply to the curtain, which is not carried around. The distinction of Isaac of Fass that it is permissible to embroider only the mantle of the Torah but not the curtain is an artificial distinction, because the important question is not whether one is tashmishey and the other is tashmishey tashmishey (an appurtenance of an appurtenance) but whether they are safe from being carried into unclean places. The essential fact is, according to the Talmud in Arachin 6a, that the Name, not written in the normal way, is not holy at all, and this is the basis of the clear answer of Maharsham in Jerushalaim D’Dahava.

CURR 29-33

DESTROYING THE DIVINE NAME

At certain Jewish social affairs of a partially religious nature, such as Bar Mitzvahs, etc., cakes are served with the Name of God written in icing on them. How can it be permitted to eat such cakes, since it is forbidden to destroy the Name of God? (Asked by Professor Jacob Marcus, Cincinnati, Ohio.)

WHILE it may seem to be merely curious interest as to whether the Name of God may be put on cakes, many more serious problems are related to it, such as painting verses on synagogue walls, since when the time comes for the synagogue to be redecorated, the Names of God originally painted on the walls will have to be blotted out. Also, the question would involve the treatment of utensils, spoons, etc., with the Name of God engraved upon them. The ques-tion is a difficult one, not only because the law involved is highy complicated, but also because in the development of the law, there are two basically opposite tendencies. It is therefore necessary to go into the subject rather fully.

The basic prohibition of erasing the Name of God is derived from the verse in Deuteronomy 12:3—4, where we are told: “Thou shalt destroy their names (of the idols) but thou shalt not do so to the Lord thy God.” The Sifre to the passage (ed. Friedmann, p. 87b) says that it is therefore forbidden to erase the Name of God. The Talmud in b. Maccos 22a uses the same verse as the basis for this prohibition. The Rambam in Hilchoth Yesode Torah, VI, 1ff., develops most of the law implied in this prohibition. He speaks also of engraving on a vessel and says that the Name of God (on the spoon or cup) must be cut out and hidden, put away (ganuz) before the article can be melted. The Name of God tattooed on the skin must be covered up when bathing. The prohibition of erasure applies to all sacred writings (not only the Torah scroll). Thus in Sefer Ha-chinuch (Aaron of Barcelona), commandment 437 likewise states that wherever the Name is found, in whatever commentary, etc., it may not be destroyed. This ex-plains the habit of preserving old prayerbooks, etc., and burying them with a righteous man in the cemetery, as was originally done with the Sefer Torah.

The prohibition elaborates into questions such as this: If a verse containing the Name of God were painted on the walls of a synagogue, how can the walls later be repainted thus erasing the Name of God? This question was asked of Jonah Landsofer (Bohemia, seventeentheighteenth cen-tury) and he, in turn, asked it of Meyer Eisenstadt (see M’il Zedaka, 23 and 24, and Panim Meiros I, 45). They both are disinclined to permit the repainting, although both are troubled by the statement in Sota 35b that the Jews wrote the Torah on stone in seventy languages and then plastered the stone, hiding the writing.

All of the above is sufficient to indicate that the tendency of the law has been towards increasing carefulness with the Name of God, spreading the former sanctity of the written Name in Scrolls to the printed Name (prayerbooks, etc.), to the painted Name (on synagogue walls, etc.), to the engraved Name (on spoons, etc.).

While this tendency towards increasing caution as to the erasure of the Name is a definite development, nevertheless, there are so many limitations (which we will now mention) to the prohibition of erasure that they constitute an entirely opposite tendency. First of all, what does the law mean by “writing”? The Mishnah (in Sabbath XII, 4) discussing what sort of writing is prohibited on the Sabbath, says that if one writes with fruit juice or with any material that does not endure, this is not to be legally considered “writing,” and therefore it is not prohibited on the Sabbath. Hence, a writing of the Name of God on a cake with sugar or whatever the icing is composed of, is not permanent writing at all and, therefore, not prohibited. Obviously, since (technically) it is not writing, one may destroy it.

A second consideration involves who the writer is. Even a Sefer Torah, if written by an epikoros, a min, i.e., an unbelieving Jew, must actually be burned with all the Names of God in it (see reference in the Yad 6, 8; this is based upon the Talmud in b. Gittin 45b). If it is written, however, by a non-Jew, it must be hidden away (i.e., not burned). The Rambam says that if written by a non-believing Jew, it is even a mitzvah to burn it. Who knows who the pastry chef was who wrote the Name of God? Only if he were a pious Jew could the Name have any sanctity (aside from the question of the temporary nature of the “writing”).

Furthermore, and this perhaps is the most important ele ment in the whole matter, not all writing of the Name of God, even by a pious Jew, is sacred. All the laws on this matter are derived from the writings of the Sefer Torah and other scrolls. Every writing of the Name of God, in order to be deemed sacred, has to be written with the conscious intent on the part of the scribe and his clear awareness that he is writing it for a sacred purpose (l’shem kedusha). Joseph Caro, based upon early authorities, even believes that he must actually utter the formula of consecration for every Torah Divine Name he comes to. At all events, either in mind or by actual words, the Name is not holy unless consciously consecrated (see Shulchan Aruch, Yore Deah, 274 and the long discussion by the Taz in the passage).

Suppose, then, the Names are not consciously consecrated. What is their status? May they be erased? The classic source of the discussion of this question is in Simon ben Zemach Duran (Tashbetz I, 177). He bases his argument on the Talmud in Gittin 20a, where we are told that if the scribe should have written “YHWH” but thought that he should have written “Judah,” but by chance left out the daled and thus wrote the Name “YHWH” anyhow, the law is (with the Rabbis) that the Name is not sacred (at least not proper). Duran, upon this foundation, says that the Name is not sacred at all, unless written with conscious intent to make it sacred. (See, also, Hagahot Maimoniot to the Yad 1.e.).

Upon this foundation, Joseph Babad (of Tarnopol) in his famous commentary to Sefer Ha-chinuch (Minchas Chinuch) says (1.e.) explicitly: It is the opinion of many of the earlier and later authorities that no sin is committed by erasing a Name which we know for certain was not con-sciously consecrated (cf. top of column 2, p. 42).

It is evident that the mood, especially of the later Halacha, is to avoid any erasure of any Name of God. Yet the basic law is absolutely clear that an impermanent writing by someone of whose piety we do not know, and which, at all events, has never been consciously sanctified, such a Name has no sanctity at all. The only conclusion one can come to, based upon the general mood of the law, is that in the case mentioned, no sin has been committed, but what was done is contrary to the spirit of reverence for God’s Name.