572) Did Nachmanides and Maimonides hide their deepest thoughts?

 Nachmanides’ secret synthesis of mystical theurgy and astral magic 

Nachmanides Commentary on the Torah

Note: This piece is technical but clarifies important distinctions between Jewish rationalists and mystics, while tracing the evolution and subtle differences between the French and Spanish Kabbalists. 

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Dov Schwartz—examines Nachmanides’ attempt to synthesise mystical theurgy (aimed at influencing the Divine realm, perfecting the cosmos and Sefirotic spheres) and practical astral magic (aimed at channelling those cosmic and Sefirotic forces into the physical, material world). 

The term “theurgy” literally means “working on the Divine,” from the Greek theos (God) and ergon (work). Although “theurgy” is often portrayed as using (or misusing) religion as magic to improve one’s worldly circumstances, the term more neutrally describes any practices believed to transform the Divine. Therefore, there are two ways to understand theurgy: one can read it as an upward, harmonising activity that aligns God, Heaven, and the cosmos; or as a downward, magic‑like application of religious rites for healing, wealth, prestige, and similar ends. In this article, “theurgy” is used in its upward sense, to distinguish it from “astral magic” (or Kabbalistic-astrology), which is used in its downward sense as a tool to direct Divine influence earthward (although both can still be described as different aspects of theurgy). 

Schwartz uses the biblical sacrifices (Korbanot) as a test case for this integration of theurgy and astral magic, showing how Nachmanides explained them as fulfilling a dual purpose: (1) theurgically influencing the divine realm and harmonising the Sefirot, and (2) magically channelling those forces into the physical domain, providing the practitioner with healing, protection, and worldly benefit. In other words, Nachmanides and the Spanish Kabbalists revised the earlier, purer French Kabbalist model—which saw sacrificial theurgy as essentially for God—by introducing a practical, astral-magical dimension that aims to benefit human needs. This way, Nachmanides’ school of Kabbalah sees the sacrifices not only as harmonising the divine realm (theurgy) but also as channelling cosmic forces (through astral magic) into the material world for human advantage. By using the sacrifices as a test case, the inference is that this dual structure of the sacrifices (theurgy and astral magic) serves as a model and paradigm for all other mitzvot and rituals as well. 

Astral magic enters Kabbalistic thought

Nachmanides (1194-1270) is known as the father of Jewish mysticism. He flourished just after Maimonides (the father of Jewish rationalism, 1138-1204) and just before the emergence of the Zohar around 1290. It seems that both Nachmanides and Maimonides hid their deepest thoughts from their readers. 

Nachmanides’ students, Shlomo ben Aderet (Rashba), Yitzchak Todros and David Cohen, became authoritative Kabbalists in their own right. At the beginning of the fourteenth century, the third generation of this Kabbalistic circle (especially the students of Rashba, including Rabeinu Bachya ben Asher, R. Shem Τον ibn Gaon, and R. Isaac of Acre,[1]) focused on a new genre of mysticism which explained and expounded on the ‘secrets’ hidden in Nachmanides’ Commentary on the Torah. This genre became a distinct and veritable Kabbalistic school with a “well-defined set of ideas” (Schwartz 2001:165). It was this school that perpetuated these dual notions of theurgy and magic latent within all Torah observances as part of the ‘sodot’ or ‘secrets’ found in their teacher Nachmanides’ writings. This school established a framework for understanding not only sacrifices but all Torah observances—every commandment and ritual potentially carried both theurgical (divine harmonisation) and magical/astral (worldly benefit) dimensions. 

This Spanish school differed from the earlier Provençal Kabbalists of southern France—like the school of Yitzchak the Blind—which focused exclusively on the more abstract and upwardly theurgical benefits of the mitzvot and excluded a magical component. The later Spanish school of Nachmanides thus represents a turning point in Kabbalah with its emphasis on astral magic, allowing for a mystical model of mitzvah observance with dual efficacy, with influences flowing both upward and downward. 

“In the [French-Provençal] kabbalistic-theurgical model, the main action of the precepts is to achieve a proper balance in the world of the sefirot and to enhance their power and fertility. The balance is generally obtained by drawing down an emanation or influence [shefa] from the uppermost sefirah (or from several sefirot) to the lower sefirot. The action [in the test case of offering a sacrifice, symbolising all other commandments] and its accompanying intention are directed toward "the need of heaven" [Tzorech Gavoha]; that is, toward the perfection and proper functioning of the Divine world. The [French] kabbalist is not concerned with personal, material benefit; even if that is the ultimate outcome, it is not a direct consequence of the religious act or the performer's intent” (Schwartz 2001:166). 

This contrasts the Spanish school of Nachmanides’ students, which incorporates an extraneous force said to facilitate and aid the spiritual process—namely the heavenly constellations. In other words, it allows for the assistance of astral magic and the idea that the stars and planetary influences could facilitate and aid the efficacy of religious ritual: 

“[T]he religious act is thus directed toward the beneficial, material advantage of the celebrant [in the test case, the person who offers the sacrifice]” (Ibid.).  

Internal nuances within the Spanish school of Kabbalah

We have established that the Spanish Kabbalistic school accepted astral magic as part of their mystical cosmology. It is notable how the second and third generations of Nachmanides’ disciples developed distinct emphases, with each branch increasingly relying on astral techniques, amplifying the role of astrological assistance in their practices and teachings: 

First generation (13^th century): Nachmanides subtly introduces a theoretical synthesis between theurgy and astral magic, setting him apart from the earlier Provençal Kabbalists of southern France who emphasised that the sacrifices were theurgical, functioning  leTzoerch Gavoha—for divine service only. 

Second generation (13^th-14^th centuries): Nachmanides’ student, Rashba, is more cautious, emphasising the theurgical side and divine intention, and he is wary of astral elements being misconstrued as idolatry. 

Third generation (mid-14^th century) comprising Rashba’s students represents a developmental leap by engaging actively with astral magic: 

a) Rabeinu Bachya is open to astral influences, weaving them into his Torah commentary as part of the ‘secrets’ of the commandments. 

b) Yitzchak of Acre: Explicitly engaged with astral influences, often trying to reconcile contradictions between theosophical and astral models. 

Unlikely origins of astral thought in Kabbalah

Yitzchak of Acre was comfortable incorporating and engaging in astral magic, but he was not the intellectual originator of this model because, ironically, these ideas entered the discourse a little earlier, through Yehuda haLevi (1075-1141) and Avraham Ibn Ezra (1089-1167). They are often associated with more rationalist approaches to Judaism, and through that lens saw astral forces as part of the natural, predictable order. For them, it was simply how the cosmos operated. They did not regard astronomy or astrology (which in those times often overlapped) as magic in the Kabbalistic sense; instead, they were rational, predictable forces governed by Divine design. They did not practise astral magic, but they legitimised talking about stars and constellations as channels of Divine influence. These ideas were later appropriated and expanded—if not distorted—by the Spanish Kabbalists, transforming them from rational cosmology into a mystical‑magical system. 

The secrets of the Sacrifice

Nachmanides commentary on Genesis 4:3 (regarding the offerings of Cain and Abel) refers to the sacrificial rite as a “great secret.”[2] This sets the stage for theological intrigue because he implies something he cannot reveal. 

Nachmanides on Leviticus 1:9

Nachmanides’ commentary on Leviticus 1:9 (dealing with biblical sacrifices and describing them as “reiach nichoach laHashem,” or a “pleasing odour to the Lord"), was used by later Kabbalists as the basis of a system of theurgy for "the need of heaven" [Tzorech Gavoha], as it pleases God. “Nichoach” can also mean to rest (noach), alluding to the Divine energies being in a state of harmony or at ease. It is also performed for no other intention than for the Tetragrammaton (YHWH), not even for any other Divine name. In other words, the sacrifices ensure that all the Sefirot (Divine spheres) are in a state of balance. There is no reference in his commentary on Leviticus 1:9 (where sacrifices are described as “a pleasing odour”) to any astral magic at all, only theurgy with the purpose solely directed upwards, and not for earthly benefit. 

However, in other places, like Jacob's sacrifice (Genesis 46:1) and the sacrifice to Azazel (Leviticus 16:8), Nachmanides does indeed introduce references to astral magic and earthly benefit. 

Nachmanides on Genesis 46:1

Nachmanides comments on Jacob going down to Egypt: 

“When Jacob was about to go down to Egypt, he saw that the exile was beginning for him and his children, and he feared it, so he offered many sacrifices to 'the Fear of his father Isaac' in order that Divine judgment not be aimed against him” (Commentary on Genesis 46:1). 

Nachmanides on Leviticus 16:8

Regarding the sacrifice to Azazel, Nachmanides comments: 

“Now the Torah has absolutely forbidden to accept them [= the angels, the source of the power of the spheres] as deities, or to worship them in any manner. However [implying that there is one subtle and nuanced exception!], the Holy One, blessed be He, commanded us that on the Day of Atonement we should let loose a goat in the wilderness, to that ‘lord’ [=power] which rules over wastelands, and this [goat] is fitting for it because he is its master, and destruction and waste emanate from that power, which in turn is the cause of the stars of the sword, wars, quarrels, wounds, plagues, division, and destruction. In short, it is the spirit of the sphere of Mars, and its part among the nations is Esau [Rome], the people that inherited the sword and the wars, and among the animals [its portion consists of] the se’irim (demons) and the goats. Also in its portion are the devils called ‘destroyers’ in the language of our Rabbis, and in the language of Scripture se’irim (satyrs, demons), for thus he [= Esau] and his nation were called se’ir. Now the intention in sending away the goat to the desert was not that it should be an offering from us to it - Heaven forbid! Rather, our intention should be to fulfill the wish of our Creator, Who commanded us to do so” (Commentary on Leviticus 16:8). 

According to Nachmanides’ students and interpreters, this dualism and juxtaposition of sacrificial intent between general sacrifices (Leviticus 1:9) and the Jacob (Genesis 46:1) and Azazel (Leviticus 16:8) sacrifices highlights the multifaceted approach of Nachmanides to sacrifices, where theurgy (Leviticus 1:9: “a pleasing odour to the Lord”) can also become astral magic, as in the cases of Jacob (“that Divine judgment not be aimed against him”) and Azazel (“Mars”) when directed downwards. 

Putting this all together, when the Divine is in balance, then the energies flow upward as well as downward, and we have a synthesis between theurgy and magic. In other words, theurgy in the Spanish Kabbalistic sense is a combination of upward Divine balance coupled with downward material benefit, or magic. This is Nachmanides’ “great secret” of the sacrifices (and mitzvot). 

The mystical importance of sacrifices

The Kabbalists generally attached great importance to the sacrifices, while the Maimonidean rationalists regarded them as a historical dispensation to a primitive people in the desert who wanted to mimic the religions of the Ancient Near East. The ultimate goal of the concession for sacrifices was to wean them away from idolatry (Maimonides, Guide for the Perplexed, III:32). 

The Kabbalists, however, took a very different stance. Another student of Nachmanides, probably David Cohen, explains the fundamental cosmic importance of sacrifices through an analogy: 

How do the base terrestrial actions of the sacrifice bring about unification in the Divine world and draw down Divine influence to the lower world…? The answer is couched in terms of a parable: A child who is reared far from human society cannot believe, upon becoming a member of society, that the creation of a newborn baby is a consequence of base, sexual activity. So too the sacrifice and its appurtenances constitute preparation for supernal activities and for attracting the influence of the sefirot to the terrestrial world (paraphrase from a citation apparently to David Cohen in Yitzchak of Acre’s Meirat Einayim). 

Hiding these ideas

Interestingly, according to Shem Tov ibn Gabbai, it seems that Nachmanides was hiding his thoughts and not expressing them openly in his writing (only referring to them as “secrets”) because of the ongoing polemic between the Maimonidean rationalists (accused of following the ways of Aristotle and the other Greek philosophers) and the Kabbalists. Shem Tov himself was also reluctant to put too much into writing: 

"For I am not permitted to explain and to reconcile the different opinions because of the opinion of the Greek [=Aristotle, or perhaps a hint at Maimonides?], for the Greek opposes whatever is not perceived by his physical senses, and he holds that no spiritual benefit may be derived from a sacrifice" (Shem Tov ibn Gaon, Maor vaShemesh, 41b). 

According to Schwartz : 

“Shem Τον [ibn Gaon] is hinting that the full explanation of sacrifice will be achieved by adding the magical-astral aspect of the act of sacrifice” (Schwartz 2001:192). 

The fourteenth-century Shem Tov Ibn Gaon (although not a direct student of Nachmanides, he was part of his circle) is claiming to express the secret view of Nachmanides—and that is the power of astral magic. Shem Tov Ibn Gaon then buttresses his claim that Nachmanides was obliquely referring to astral magic by confirming this was something he had heard from his teacher, Yitzchak Todros, who in turn heard it from Nachmanides: 

“[If the master (Nachmanides) said that he cannot explain, who shall explain?! But] I received his [Nahmanides'] opinion from my teacher R. I[saac] T[odros]” (Shem Tov ibn Gaon, Maor vaShemesh, 30b). 

Not only did Nachmanides hide his thoughts, but even Shem Tov ibn Gabbai—three generations later—expressed his own difficulty in presenting his views on astral magic due to the intellectual climate shaped by Aristotelian philosophy. This is fascinating because, as we have noted many times, Maimonides also hid his deeper thoughts and kept them out of his overt writing—and we sometimes revert to traditions that claim Maimonides’s contemporaries clarified that he held more radical personal views that could not be put in writing [see Kotzk Blog: 571) Did Maimonides believe the universe was created or eternal?]. This parallel of secrecy indicates just how deep the roots of the mystical-rational polemic were, with both sides not revealing the full extent of their positions. 

Conclusion

From what we have seen, both Nachmanides and his followers seem to concur that the “great secret” of the sacrificial rite was the linking of the relatively safe concept of theurgy (in the sense of working on God in the upper realms and restoring the cosmic balance)  with the more radical mystic notion and use of astral magic as a talismatic (channelling and protective) device directing Divine influence earthwards. 

The multi-generational Kabbalistic circle of Nachmanides daringly unified theurgy and astral magic by “presenting them as the two aspects of the same influence or as two hypostases [multiple distinct aspects of one divine or metaphysical unity] in the process of emanation” (Schwartz 2001:212).

 

Bibliography

Schwartz, Dov, 2001, ‘From Theurgy to Magic: The Evolution of the Magical-Talismanic Justification of Sacrifice in the Circle of Nahmanides and His Interpreters’, Aleph, no. 1, 165-213.

I thank Professor Avi Harel for these sources: 

עודד ישראלי, ר' משה בן נחמן, ביוגרפיה אינטלקטואלית, הוצאת מאגנס, 2020.
חביבה פדיה, הרמב"ן: התעלות: זמן מחזורי וטקסט קדוש, הוצאת עם עובד, תל אביב, תשס"ג.
משה הלברטל, על דרך האמת - הרמב"ן ויצירתה של מסורת, מכון הרטמן, ירושלים, תשס"ו
עמוס פונקנשטיין פרשנותו הטיפולוגית של הרמב"ן – תדמית ותודעה היסטורית ביהדות ובסביבתה, הוצאת עם עובד, תל אביב, תשנ"א.

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[1] Not to be confused with the earlier Yitzchak the Blind (1160-1235) from Provence, who was associated with the Sefer haBahir.

[2] Nachmanides’ commentary on Genesis 4:3:

 

These men [Cain and Abel] understood the great secret of the sacrifices and the meal-offerings. So also did Noah, [who likewise offered sacrifices]. Our Rabbis have said that the first man also sacrificed a bullock. This should close the mouth of those who speak foolishness *Reference is made here to the Moreh Nevuchim, III, 46, where it is stated that the laws concerning the sacrifices were intended as a guard against idolatry. It is this theory that Ramban intends to refute when he says that in the days of Adam, Cain and Abel, there was no idolatry and yet they brought sacrifices. There is thus a positive aspect to the sacrifices which Rambam did not take into account (Sefaria).

 

 

571) Did Maimonides believe the universe was created or eternal?

 

"Three Philosophical Approaches" by Professor Avi Harel

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by my friend and mentor, Professor Avi Harel—discusses one of the most perplexing questions of Maimonidean scholarship: Did Maimonides believe the universe was created or eternal? Was the universe created by God at a point in history, or did it always exist? The question itself is astonishing for any religious thinker because belief in the creation of the universe seems to be a natural theological consequence of believing in God’s existence. Importantly, even the Torah opens with (two accounts) of the creation narrative. Yet Maimonides engages very seriously with this question of creation or eternity in his Moreh Nevuchim (Guide of the Perplexed). 

The Maimonidean conundrum

According to Harel (my translation from the Hebrew): 

“The controversy over whether the world was created or always existed is one of the most serious and difficult philosophical and theological problems to resolve” (Harel 2026). 

What follows is an attempt at positioning Maimonides—based on his writings in the Guide—within this great debate. No other theological inquiry has so much at stake because, firstly, the eternity of the universe negates the sensus literatus of the Torah text; and secondly, it challenges the common notion that God (as sovereign and all- powerful) is the creator of the universe. 

570) Rabbi Shmuel Alexandrov: An early model of Religious Zionism

R. Shmuel Alexandrov (1865-1941)

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Dr Isaac Slater—identifies and analyses a forgotten early model of Religious Zionism as presented in the writings of Rabbi Shmuel Alexandrov. Religious Zionism today is readily recognisable in its various popular iterations, but there were many early models and visions of how such a movement should be constructed. We shall explore just one of these diverse theological projections on how to integrate classical traditional Judaism, as understood during the late nineteenth century, with emergent Zionism. 

569) Is Maimonides the solution or the problem?

 

Professor Shalom Sadik

Introduction

A recent book by Professor Shalom Sadik—‘A Call For The Revival of Religious Philosophy’ (in Hebrew)[1]—has sparked a ferocious but fascinating debate over the resurgence of interest in the philosophical views of Maimonides. Sadik is calling for a measured return to Maimonidean philosophy. He acknowledges that this path is not for most religious Jews and specifically aims his teachings at a minority of Jews, which he sees as being less than ten per cent of the population (Sadik 2024). Yet R. Ysoscher Katz, Professor Menachem Kellner, Professor Avinoam Rosenak, Professor Ari Ackerman (and others) take issue with Sadik and his interpretation of Maimonides. 

567) What happened to the Chabad Megillah of Yud-Tet Kislev?

Tomchei Temimim Yeshiva in Otwock during the 1930s

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Wojciech Tworek—examines a unique Megillah (Scroll) compiled in 1936 by the sixth Chabad Rebbe, Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn (1880-1950). It was to be read out aloud and publicly on Yud-Tet Kislev (19^th of Kislev), which is celebrated by Chabad as the Chassidic ‘Festival of Redemption.’ Yud-Tet Kislev commemorates the release and liberation of their founding Rebbe, Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812), also known as the Alter Rebbe, from prison in the Petropavlovsk fortress in 1798. 

566) From Manuscript to Print: Redefining the Borders of Rabbinic Authority

 

2024 marks the five hundredth anniversary of the Second Rabbinic Bible printed by Daniel Bomberg and edited by Yaakov ben Chaim Adoniyah.

Abstract

The shift from manuscript to print around 1450 was not simply a technological innovation, but a transformative theological encounter that reshaped the borders of rabbinic reach and authority. This paper examines how the introduction of print during the Renaissance period impacted and changed traditional rabbinic authority. Print indeed stabilised textual transmission through standardisation, yet it also created new tensions. Print inadvertently exposed the hidden disputes among the multiple and variant manuscript traditions, since only one version could be published. More importantly, printers with their editorial interventions and often-arbitrary selection of manuscripts began to displace rabbis as the prime mediators of tradition. Some rabbis, therefore, rejected the new technology, while others embraced the innovation as the printed book signalled the promise of authority and legitimacy. Historically, the material form of the printed book indeed became the decisive factor in shaping the future trajectory of the Mesora (rabbinic line of tradition) since it immediately identified who held authority in the rabbinic world. This paper argues, however, that the printing press also introduced a new and arbitrary rule—unknown before to the ancient line of transmission—He who prints first wins. 

New tensions as printing becomes the locus of rabbinic authority

565) Jewish mysticism: Debates of influence between East and West

A fragment from the Cairo Geniza in the hand of  Maimonides' only son, Avraham ben haRambam

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Ronald Kiener—examines the contested origins of Jewish mysticism, including the neglected question of the role Islamic mysticism may have played. This Islamic influence seems to have been previously missed by the doyenne of Jewish mysticism, Gershom Scholem, who “based largely on manuscripts from Italy and Germany…hardly professes to say much of Judaism in Islamdom” (Hodgson 1974: 2:202, n.1). Scholem’s use of texts predominantly from Europe accounts for his Eurocentric approach to the history of Jewish mysticism. Scholem was not alone because sixty years ago most scholars indeed “looked to Europe in order to provide narrative explanations for the history and development of Jewish mysticism” (Kiener 2011:147). However, scholarship has changed since then, and Moshe Idel, one of the foremost contemporary scholars on Jewish mysticism, starkly declares: 

“Muslim culture is the primary source of influence upon Jewish mysticism” (Idel 1991:33). 

564) Oleksa Dovbush: A Ukrainian Baal Shem Tov?

Oleksa Dovbush 1700-1745

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Boris Czerny[1]—examines some unusual similarities between the Baal Shem Tov (the founder of the Chassidic movement, c.1700-1760) and Oleksa Dovbush (the Ukrainian Robin Hood and rebel leader, 1700-1745). Czerny researched the archives of Kyiv and Lviv, as well as Israel, and analysed texts written in Ukrainian, Russian, Hebrew and Yiddish. He also consulted police and court records concerning Oleksa Dovbush to construct his revolutionary biography (Czerny 2018:34). I thank Professor Czerny for gifting me a copy of his book (in French!). 

563) The suicide of Sarah?

  

Milk urns used to bury documentation form the Warsaw Ghetto as part of the Ringelblum Archives

Note: This article deals with an unusual and peripheral view that the biblical Sarah committed suicide after she heard that her son Isaac was bound on the altar. Suicide is a serious problem in many communities, and ours is no different. Reference to Sarah’s alleged suicide as a ‘virtue’ must be understood within the historical and literary context in which this idea was fermented, and not in any way as a religious sanction of such an act. I deal with it here knowing full well that ideas are dangerous, but equally aware that withholding them is more so. 

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Rabbi Professor Daniel Reiser—examines an unusual Chassidic interpretation of the biblical Sarah’s death as a suicide. This idea is to be found in the writings of the Piaseczno^[1] Rebbe, Kalonymus Kalman Shapira (1889-1943), produced while he was confined to the Warsaw Ghetto. According to Reiser (2021:7): 

“Sarah died in order to demonstrate to God that her excessive  suffering in the wake of Isaac’s near sacrifice was absolutely unbearable.” 

In Shapira’s lived experience, he seemed to identify with Sarah, whom he interpreted as demonstrating that with the episode of the Akeidah—the sacrifice of Isaac—God had pushed humanity too far. 

562) Was Maharal of Prague a philosopher or a veiled mystic?

Tiferet Yisrael by Maharal of Prague. First edition, Venice 1599

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Dr Leore Sachs-Shmueli and Eynel Kapach—examines the question of whether the Maharal of Prague  (1512-1609) was a philosopher or a Kabbalist. The Maharal has long been the subject of much scholarly debate over his relationship to Kabbalah. This new research situates Maharal as a discreet Kabbalist who hid his deep mystical views behind a veil of philosophy. 

561) Maimonidean philosophy as a form of rationalist mysticism?

The Kabbalistic Eitz Chaim as depicted in an early 18th century diagram from the Klau Scrolls Collection showing the complicated mystical path to unio mystica.

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Professor Gideon Freudenthal—explores the possibility of a unio mystica (mystical union) attainable through Maimonidean philosophic and rationalist endeavours. This rationalist unio mystica parallels (and might even surpass) the unio mystica described by the mystics and Kabbalists. If this claim holds, then it is not only the mystics who can, allegedly, experience unio mystica, but also the rationalists. Yet, both states of unio mystica are defined very differently, as one is mystically ecstatic while the other remains purely intellectual. 

560) What Can We Learn From the Writing Style of Kabbalistic Source Books?

This is another guest post by Rabbi Boruch Clinton, and originally appeared on his B'chol D'rachecha site.

(I asked Rabbi Clinton to share his fascinating and original thoughts on the stylistic underpinnings of our mystical texts, not only because so much of his writing resonates with me, but also because I have never before seen a theory of mysticism expressed in such a forthright manner - Gavin Michal)

Many years ago, a Torah scholar speaking at a public gathering I attended said some strange things. Everything sounded fine until you spent a moment thinking about it. As an example, he insisted that “Rabbi S.R. Hirsch and the Baal Hatanya translated the word הלל identically.”

Now that’s simply untrue. R’ Hirsch’s translation of הלל is on the record and it bears no resemblance to the translation reported in the speech.1 It’s not as though there are any political points to be made here one way or the other, it’s just incorrect. I said nothing at the time, but I quietly wondered why that rabbi would have said such nonsense.