543) Where are the first Chassidic texts?

Zemir Aritzim, published in 1772: Under the directive of the first Rebbe of Chabad, all existing copies of Zemir Aritzim were gathered and burned, leaving only two surviving copies. 

Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the groundbreaking research of Dr Elly Moseson[1]—examines the obscure world of early Chassidic manuscripts that circulated well before the first printed, and official Chassidic book, Toledot Yaakov Yosef, in 1780. We explore the nature of the earliest Chassidic handwritten manuscripts, produced in the two decades between the passing of the Baal Shem Tov in 1760 and the publication of the first printed Chassidic book in 1780, before Chassidism became institutionalised. 

542) Zoharic Kabbalah as mystical resistance to Christianity

 Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Hartley Lachter[1]—examines how Medieval Kabbalists constructed a theology of resistance in response to negative Christian portrayals of (particularly) the male Jewish body, as flawed, inferior and weak. In response, the Kabbalists advanced a counter-narrative that framed Jewish bodies as sacred, resilient and transcendent of time. This Kabbalistic interpretation also allowed Jews to see themselves as instrumental in a redemptive history, turning accusations of faithlessness by rejecting Jesus into affirmations of faithfulness to divine mystery. They were no longer inferior, but— through Kabbalah—indeed superior. 

541) Romancing the Manuscript: The politics of knowledge in Chatam Sofer’s rejection of print.

Manuscript fragment of Toledot Yeshu

Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Maoz Kahana[1]—examines R. Moshe Schreiber (known as Chatam Sofer, 1762-1839) and his ambivalent stance toward the well-established print culture of Jewish books, which had flourished since its beginnings three centuries earlier in 1475. In place of embracing print as the dominant medium, he issued a striking call for a return to manuscripts. Chatam Sofer is a major rabbinic figure who “carries the aura of a founding figure in the sociological fabric of modern Judaism” (Kahana 2025:300). 

By privileging manuscripts, Chatam Sofer reinforced rabbinic control over textual transmission, resisting the democratisation of knowledge that print enabled. As opposed to mechanical printing, manuscripts circulated in smaller, more controlled circles, limiting exposure to the unorthodox ideas that sometimes sprouted from the Enlightenment movement (Haskalah), which—significantly—used print aggressively to promote its agenda. 

540) Theo-politics of early rabbinic printing and the race for first publication

Levush haOrah by R. Mordechai Jaffe first published in 1603

Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Eric Lawee—examines the publication of rabbinic texts during the Late Medieval and Early Modern Periods,^[1] in the aftermath of the invention of the printing press around 1450. It focuses on the printing struggles of R. Mordechai Jaffe (c.1530–1612)—also known as the Levush, or Baal haLevushim—and especially on the personal reflections contained in the epilogue to his Levush haOra. 

The first Hebrew books were printed in Rome around 1470. Rabbinic books (sefarim) were not always selfless, intellectual and spiritual contributions for the edification of the People of Israel. The reality of rabbinic publishing was far more complicated. Publishing was not just about scholarship, but also about authority, the tension between tradition and innovation, and the practical challenges of getting a manuscript into print. It was about survival in a crowded marketplace of ideas, where every published gloss and commentary bore the promise of Chashivut—legitimacy, influence, power and authority—for its author. But behind the finished published product sometimes lay a hidden world of rivalry, negotiation, polemics and politics. 

539) The new Rebbe of Thieves

Resisei Laila given to me by R. Shlomo Carlebach

Introduction

I recently experienced a brief lapse back into my earlier self, when I was totally captivated by the romance of Chassidism, which included a diversion into the magnetism of R. Shlomo Carlebach, his music and teachings. I once asked R. Shlomo what I needed to do to become his Chassid. He smiled and said (typically), “But I want to be a Chassid of you!” I replied, “No, seriously...” He then told me to go to the Mikveh just before Shabbos and to read Resisei Leilah by R. Zadok haCohen. I went to the Mikveh, but I could never find a copy of Resisei Leilah. Years later, someone unexpectedly gave me a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. When I opened it, it was the well-used personal copy of Resisei Leilah that R. Shlomo carried around with him. Apparently, he met someone at the airport, heard they were going to South Africa and gave them his book to give to me. I was overwhelmed and felt like I was living in one of the Chassidic stories he used to tell. Years have passed, times have changed, and my interests and pursuits have moved on, but that little worn blue book remains one of my prized possessions. 

538) Rules for writing a Sefer Torah: Rabbinic innovation or reflection of an existing scribal tradition?

Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Emanuel Tov, former Editor-in-Chief of the Dead Sea Scrolls Publication Project[1]—examines the rabbinic rules for writing a Sefer Torah. These laws are among the most detailed and revered in rabbinic literature. Every letter, margin, and column is prescribed with precision, creating the impression of a system wholly devised by the rabbis to safeguard the sanctity of the text. Yet the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls has complicated this picture. As Emanuel Tov has shown, many of these rabbinic instructions echo standard and common practices already in use among scribes in the Judean Desert centuries earlier. Thus, what previously may have seemed like a unique rabbinic innovation in scribal law now appears, at least in part, to be the codification of an existing scribal tradition—if not a form of acculturation.[2] 

537) When Did We All Start Ignoring the "Sealing of the Talmud"?

This post, by Boruch Clinton, originally appeared on the B'chol D'rachecha site.

It’s popularly understood that the completion of the Talmud around 1,500 years ago marked a critical transition in halachic history. From that point on, halachic conclusions found in the Talmud were binding on all Jews everywhere and for all time.

536) ‘Halachic Fiction’ and ex post facto justification in the modern Halachic process

Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Marc Shapiro— examines the term ‘Halachic fiction.’ It is used to describe legal constructs in Halacha (Jewish law) that are not literally true, but serve as mechanisms to reconcile the demands of Halacha with the realities of lived experience. In other words, there is a category of Halacha—popular during the post Shulchan Aruch period (from the sixteenth century to this day)—where the “community’s ritual instinct” (Halbertal 2002:166, citing Jacob Katz), as well as custom, determine the law, sometimes to a greater extent than the rabbis.   

535) Suspending Judaism between depth and accessibility: Maimonides and Yeshaya of Trani

Piskei haRid and Piskei haRiaz. Rid (grandfather) and Riaz (grandson) published together in one volume, although their worldviews were very different.

Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Marc Shapiro[1]—asks whether the Italian commentator and Talmudist, R. Yeshaya di Trani (known as Riaz) had a larger influence on future Judaism than Maimonides. Riaz was one of the rabbis who vigorously opposed Maimonides during the Maimonidean Controversies that consumed the rabbinic world in the centuries after Maimonides’ passing in 1204. It seems that the rabbis were not ready for the radical expansiveness of Maimonidean thought, and under the leadership of Riaz—the great anti‑Maimonidean polemicist—refused to allow Judaism to be subjected to philosophical creed or inquiry. Maimonides’ towering philosophical system threatened to redefine Judaism as a religion of creed and rational inquiry. Not all rabbis were prepared to accept this radical shift, and Riaz emerged as one of the most forceful voices of resistance, rejecting the binding nature of Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles of Faith as well as his rationalism. Instead, he argued for a simpler, unsophisticated and non-dogmatic faith based solely on Halachic observance. 

534) Between Law and Magic: The Mezuzah as a test case in shifting cosmologies

Introduction

This article—drawing extensively on the research of Professor Oded Yisraeli—examines references to the mezuzah from both before and after the emergence of the Zohar in the late thirteenth century, in order to trace shifting cosmologies. To map these changing approaches, we shall examine successive periods of Jewish literature from the third century to our times, each marked by distinct emphases and developments in the evolving mystical cosmology of the mezuzah. 

533) The Seven Laws of Noah: Then and now

 

Jan Jansson's Duo Tituli Thalmudici Sanhedrin et Maccoth (Amsterdam, 1629)

Introduction

This article—based extensively on the research by Yaacov Amar Rothstein—identifies two distinct layers in the development of the Seven Laws of Noah, comprising an early rabbinic conception, and a later reinterpretation. In the Talmud and classical rabbinic sources, the Sheva Mitzvot Bnei Noach were not envisioned as a comprehensive universal religion for non‑Jews, but rather as a minimal legal framework—a baseline of obligations incumbent upon humanity with clear consequences for their violation. The difference between these two layers of perception is immense. The modern idea of a ‘Noahide religion,’ presented as the original biblical faith intended for all non‑Jews, does not originate in rabbinic tradition. Surprisingly, it first emerged within Medieval Christian polemics and Early Modern[1] European thought. It was only as recently as about one hundred and fifty years ago that this universalist reading was taken up within Jewish discourse, most notably by R. Elia Benamozegh (d.1900), and later expanded upon by contemporary figures such as the Lubavitcher Rebbe and R. Adin Steinsaltz. [See: Kotzk Blog: 523) Radical rabbinic models of universalism and Kotzk Blog: 522) Italian letters: The battle over the Zohar]. 

532) Dialogues of vision: How we view Maimonides and how he might view us (Part II)

 

Secrets of the Guide by Dr Micha Goodman

How Maimonides might view us

Introduction

Part I examined the reception of Maimonidean thought in rabbinic Judaism. Part II now turns the focus on its head and examines, theoretically, how Maimonides might view contemporary Judaism as we know it. 

We begin with an overview of the essence of Moreh Nevuchim (Guide for the Perplexed) in an attempt to understand what it means by ‘secrets.’ 

‘Secrets’

There are two bodies of knowledge that Maimonides describes as Maaseh Bereishit and Maaseh Merkavah, which together form the Pardes (Orchard of esoteric wisdom) into which the four sages entered (b. Chagiga 14b). This knowledge (yeda), he maintains, once existed among the prophets and sages until a tragedy occurred, and that knowledge was lost. Maimonides understands a real prophet as—not someone who experiences visions—but rather as a composite of perfected intellect, ethics and ability to imagine (Goodman 2015:39). Maimonides believed that the greatest loss to Judaism was not the destruction of the Temple or its rituals, but the loss of knowledge. Maimonides (Introduction to Moreh Nevuchim, section 3) writes that he managed to re-establish the hidden secret that our Masoret (Tradition) had lost. He did this, not through revelation or prophecy but through the capacity of the mind.