I have always been drawn to the teaching of the Rebbe of Kotzk. His approach was predicated upon uncompromising truth and intellectual independence.This allowed him to be fearless and never to succumb to societal pressures.
He knew that Judaism was so much deeper and more profound than the way it was perceived by the masses and bent by religious populism.
These essays, although not necessarily Kotzker in essence, are certainly Kotzk inspired.
An 1853 commentary on R. Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, perhaps the first book to be published in Johannesburg, South Africa.
Introduction
An influential Kabbalist
who lived at the same time as the Baal Shem Tov (1700-1760) was R. Moshe Chaim
Luzzatto (1707-1746). He was born in Padua to a wealthy and cultured Italian
family and was exposed to languages, including Latin, by his father. He
mastered Talmud and even Kabbalah at an early age and later,
went on to study secular subjects (possibly medicine) at Padua University under R. Yitzchak Chaim Cohen Cantarini. It was there
that he selected a group of medical students and together they formed a Kabbalistic circle
known as Chevra Mevakshei haShem (the Group of Seekers of G-d) intending
to bring about “messianic manifestation in global redemption” (Sclar
2017:40). In several of his writings: “Luzzatto identified himself directly
as the redeemer" (Carlebach 1987:13).
Sefer haKuzari with the Kol Yehuda commentary by R. Yehuda Moscato.
Introduction
This article, based extensively on the research by Dr
Avishai Bar-Asher,[1]
examines how R. Yehuda Halevi (1075-c.1141) − the great Spanish physician,
poet, philosopher and author of the Kuzari− may not only have contributed to
medieval Kabbalah but may have introduced parts of its theurgical
elements.
[Note: Theurgy is almost a magical approach to mysticism, where,
by doing certain actions and rituals, or by reciting certain formulas, one can
influence the Divine Being. This is as opposed to Theosophy, which is more of a
theoretical study of mystical concepts without necessarily trying to influence the cosmos.]
During the late fifteenth century, two sad dates stood out
for the Jews on the Iberian Peninsula. In 1492 the Jews were expelled from
Spain and in 1497 they were expelled from Portugal. This article, based
extensively on the research by Andrée Aelion Brooks,[1]
discusses the expulsion from Spain in 1492 and examines the question of the
expulsion from Portugal in 1497.
The eighteenth-century Jewish mystical movement
− the Chassidic movement −
was founded by R. Yisrael Baal Shem Tov (c.1700-1760). It has evolved today
into one of the largest and most identifiable of all the Jewish movements. Yet
the causes that led to its appearance are still debated by scholars. While I
take the view that its major influencing factor was its immediate predecessor, the
mystical Sabbatian movement which arose in the aftermath of the false Messiah
Shabbatai Tzvi (1626-1676), most scholarship tends to seek out other reasons
for Chassidism’s appearance on the scene of history. In keeping with this
majority trend, this brief study explores (and questions) one such view: that
the persecutions following the Khmelnytsky massacres which began in 1648,
coupled with the theological reaction to that violence, were most likely to
have been the overwhelming influence leading to the rise of the Chassidic
movement. Previous scholarship argues that the vehemence of the unrest and
particularly the theological responses to it, led not just to the formation of
the Chassidic movement, but to the birth of the earlier Sabbatian movement in
the first instance, and even to the later conservatism of the Mitnagdic
opposition movement which arose to counter Chassidism. In other words, the physical
persecutions and their spiritual responses spawned not one, but three important
Jewish movements; Sabbatianism, Chassidism and Mitnagdism. Although I do not
necessarily subscribe to the approach that Chassidism emerged primarily as a
reaction to persecution, I do bring support for aspects of it here from a
little-known and under-studied Sabbatian personality who may have been a
critical link between Sabbatianism and Chassidism, R. Heshil Tzoref (1632-1699).
I do this because he introduces a new and unsuspected dynamic. This dynamic is
vengeance coupled with its concomitant theological justification and validation.
The problem is that if one takes the persecutions as a primary cause for the
birth particularly of Chassidism, it becomes very difficult to reconcile a
theology of cathartic vengeance with a spiritual and mystical movement.[1]
The simultaneous emergence of Sabbatianism
and Chassidism
As the seventeenth century fused with the
eighteenth century, the two “major mystical-messianic-charismatic movements,”
as Rachel Elior (2012:85) tellingly describes them, Sabbatianism and Chassidism,
emerged relatively simultaneously. The Khmelnytsky persecutions were still
fresh in the minds of the people who had first-hand experience of its horrors. Both
movements were informal as they did not seek permission from the recognised rabbinic
authorities.
Israel Halpern (1969:55-60) points out that
around this time, less than one per cent of the Jewish population was eligible
to vote for its communal and rabbinic leadership. This was because only the
wealthy, who paid taxes, were permitted to vote. One can understand how, in a
non-representative societal environment like this, charismatic and ground-up
movements could find fertile soil. They offered social elevation and spiritual
status to the average individual. It seems,
therefore, quite feasible to assume that both movements arose in response to the
similar concerns of persecution under Khmelnytsky from without, and societal neglect
from within.
The Khmelnytsky massacres
Although chronologically, Sabbatianism preceded
Chassidism, Elior maintains that both were “spiritual responses to
the tragic circumstances” of the Khmelnytsky massacres, also known as the
Cossack–Polish War. While these massacres are often associated with the
date 1648 when they began, it must be remembered that they continued for about
twenty years up to 1668. This was already two years after Shabbatai Tzvi (the
founder of the Sabbatian movement) had officially been discredited and
branded as a false Messiah when he converted to Islam. It was also just thirty
(or thirty-two, or perhaps only twenty-two)[2] years
before the Baal Shem Tov (the founder of the Chassidic movement) was
born.
Yet even after 1668, attacks against Jews continued.
More than one hundred thousand Jews were killed by the Cossacks between 1646
and 1768 in Ukraine, and Jews were subjected to pogroms in areas where the
Polish army had withdrawn.[3] The
Greek-Orthodox Ukrainian serfs rebelled against the Polish Catholics and the
Jews were caught up in the attacks as they often served as administrators for
the Polish nobility. The Cossacks also attacked the Roman Catholic clergy and
the civilian population, resulting in revenge attacks and “savage reprisals”
by Prince Jeremi Wiśniowiecki (Davies 2005:351).
Documentary evidence spanning a century and a
half between 1650 and the end of the eighteenth century shows how Jews were
emotionally devastated and similarly intent on revenge. Included in this body
of literature is also a strong expression of messianic hope (Elior 2012:86).
The effects and dramatic consequences of the Khmelnytsky massacres are not lost
to Joseph Citron (n.d.:32-33), Jacob Barnai (1995:175) or Moshe Rosman (1982:6) either. Davies (2005:352)
speaks of “[t]he strains of incessant war” which “caused internal
inflammations.” Some of these “inflammations” are also evident in
the Kabbalistic literature produced during that time.
Yehuda Liebes[5]
(2007:7-8) shows how R. Heshil Tzoref had three distinct periods of spiritual
awakening and increased mystical activity. These occurred during the years 1648
(= ת״ח= 408, corresponding to the Hebrew
date of [5]408[6], the beginning of the Khmelnytsky pogroms);
1666 (= תכ״ו= 426, the year Shabbatai Tzvi apostatised to Islam)
and; 1688 (= תמ״ח = 448, a seemingly random date other than
being exactly forty years after 1648). These three dates and phases are
mystically described and interpreted as follows:
1) R. Heshil Tzoref
found a ‘hint’ to the Khmelnytsky pogroms in the Hebrew year ת״ח(408=1648) which he linked to the biblical phrase דֹּ֖ר דֹּֽר (4+200+4+200=408) which is found at the end of the verse מִלְחָמָ֥ה לַיהֹוָ֖ה
בַּֽעֲמָלֵ֑ק מִדֹּ֖ר דֹּֽר, “God
will be at war with Amalek in every generation” (Exodus 17:16). Thus, in
1648 (408) Amalek (represented by Khmelnytzky) is identified as the evil entity
of the generation, and those who fight him wage God’s war.
3) In 1688 − forty years after 1648 (perhaps
corresponding to the biblical delay between the exodus and the promised entry
to the land) − God’s final retribution and victory were to have taken place.
God was going to mete out revenge on Edom which came to represent Christianity
(as Ishmael came to represent Islam). The year 1688 (448) was selected for the
following reason: The biblical Esau (representing Edom=Christendom) was born
while Jacob (representing the Jewish people) was clutching at his heel. The
biblical expression וְיָד֤וֹ אֹחֶ֙זֶת֙ בַּעֲקֵ֣ב עֵשָׂ֔וin the verse, “And his [Jacob’s] hand was clutching (the heel of
Esau)” (Genesis 25:26), has a numerical value of
448.[9]
R. Heshil Tzoref’s elaborate system of mysticism
includes Esau’s grandson, Tsefo (צפו=176), corresponds
in numerology to Polin (Poland) (פולין=176). Samael is the guardian of both Esau
and Tsefo, which means Samael is also the guardian of Poland, hence Poland represents
the Christian the Kingdom of Edom. This construct is strengthened by similarity
between Tsefo (צפו)
and North (צפון). North (צפון=226) is then connected to Polin-Lita (Poland and Lithuania) (פולין ליטא=226). Then R. Heshil
Tzoref relates all this to a verse from Jeremiah (1:14): “out of the north
shall evil break forth,” and R. Heshil Tzoref explains that “when the
messianic redemption arrives, it will first manifest in the north, which is,
Poland-Lithuania.”[10]
It could be said that, over a period of forty
years, R. Heshil Tzoref believed he could reframe, if not cosmically realign,
the three forces of Amalek (1648), Islam (1666) and Christianity (1688), thus
preparing for final messianic era. And in his mystical mind, all these stages are
presented as being supported by biblical verses.
The Tzoref ‘incident’
In a shocking and brutal Sabbatian
mystical interpretation, the vengeance of
1688 is described in sexual terms − but violently so, as assaulting a virgin −
because the year 1688 (448), the last of the three stages, has the same
numerical value as הבתולה (=448=the virgin). Reading between
the lines and considering the appetite for revenge for the blood libels and
massacres against Jews, this may be referring to a reprisal attack to right the
horrors of 1648 and it may have targeted a Christian virgin, perhaps a veiled
reference toMary. It is difficult to sift the
facts from the innuendos, but Liebes writes:
“It seems to me that
this matter was not written about before the event, but was [instead] described
as prophecy after the fact (vaticinium ex eventu) [and it was] an event that
had already occurred on history’s stage, and in the lifetime of R. Heshil. It
is possible that the redemption [to be brought about] by R. Heshil was bound up
with engaging with a virgin of flesh and blood, similar to what we find with
many other messianic characters throughout history. It seems that this sexual
encounter remained within the memory of the Chassidim[11] of R. Heshil for the next generations, and the
words of R. Menachem Mendel of Shklov [a follower
of the Vilna Gaon, representing the opposition or Mitnagdic camp opposing Chassidism] hint at this [encounter as well][12]” (Liebes 2007: 8)[13]
Interpreting the Tzoref ‘incident’
It is very difficult to know how exactly to
interpret this apparent event and identify the perpetrator and the victim. But
it is clear that the logic of restorative consequence and catharticvengeance, in one form or another, features in the Sabbatian
mysticism of R. Heshil Tzoref. This must have been fuelled all the more by a
society overcome by the fear of pogroms, persecuted by a proliferation of blood
libels and seeking revenge against those Christians – or
more accurately, the “Bishops of the Catholic Church in the
Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth” (Elior 2012:102) − who
considered Jew to be “God-killers.” With the irony that Catholic clergy
and civilians themselves subject to attacks by the Cossacks, and their
corresponding reprisals against the Cossacks, it is no wonder that this
ecclesiastical chaos in Poland has been described as “God’s playground”
(Davies 2005). To add to the ironies and chaos of the time, 'Khmyel'nitskiy'
was later remembered (in Soviet Russia) as “a Moses who led his people's
exodus from Polish bondage towards the great Russian homeland” (Davies
2005:353).
“The indignation at
the ‘nation of God-killers’ was inflamed by the belief that the Jews remained
blind to the splendor of the true faith instead of doing penance for their
crime. They had committed the sin of ingratitude and, for this; God, for whom
‘nothing is uglier than ingratitude’, had turned away from them and transferred
His grace to, among other people, the Poles” (Tazbir 1998:235).
Contextualisation is vital in helping to
understand the sentiments of all parties involved in any form of
socio-religious disorder but should never justify outrageous behaviour. Still,
it contributes to the explanation of why ideologies adopt a sense of radical immediacy
and antinomian urgency:
“Sabbatian teachings
entailed messianic hopes of meta-historical vengeance against those who had
murdered thousands of helpless Jews, as well as messianic hopes for redemption
of those who survived” (Elior 2012:87).
R. Heshil Tzoref is regarded by Liebes as one
of the forerunners of the Chassidic movement and is somewhere between Sabbatianism
and Chassidism. This emphasises the effects and influences of the
Khmelnytzky massacres – with their pogroms, ensuing blood libels and
the need for cosmic vengeance and restorative messianism − on Sabbatian
and Chassidic ideology.
Traumatic national events are never to be
minimised in terms of the affected populations. In Jewish history, all roads of
persecution lead to messianism. We see this with the rise of messianism in the
aftermath of the expulsion of Jews from Spain and Portugal in 1492 and 1497
respectively (Biale 1984:314). So too, the Khmelnytsky massacres cannot be
ignored as a major influencing factor in the formulations of Sabbatianism,
Chassidism and Mitnagdism. The problem with this model, of
course, is how to reconcile these movements with their roots in an ignoble
albeit cathartic theology of vengeance.
R. Heshil Tzoref, it seems, faced the same
conundrum. He resolved it by using his mystical interpretations of Exodus 17:16
(מִלְחָמָ֥ה
לַיהֹוָ֖ה בַּֽעֲמָלֵ֑ק מִדֹּ֖ר דֹּֽר), Genesis 25:26 (וְיָד֤וֹ אֹחֶ֙זֶת֙ בַּעֲקֵ֣ב
עֵשָׂ֔ו) and Jeremiah 1:14 (מִצָּפוֹן֙ תִּפָּתַ֣ח הָרָעָ֔ה) as
authoritative proof texts for a treacherous antinomian canonising and theologising
of vengeance.
From a theological perspective, besides the
obvious moral outrage, I prefer the less-popular model where more weight is
placed on the influence the mystico-messianic Sabbatian movement exerted
on the mystico-messianic[14]Chassidic
movement. Although the persecutions were undoubtedly a major and significant
factor, I argue that evidence of a more direct correspondence and intersection
between later Sabbatian rabbinic personalities with their
mystical literature, and the earlier Chassidicpersonalities
with their mystical literature, is far more compelling (like R. Heshil
Tzoref, whose Sefer haTzoref was in the possession of, and praised by,
the Baal Shem Tov).[15]
Bibliography
Barnai, J., 1995, 'The Outbreak of Sabbateanism-Eastern European Factor', The Journal
of Jewish Thought and Philosophy, Brill.
Biale, D., 1984,
‘Jewish Mysticism in the Sixteenth Century’, I n An Introduction to the
Medieval Mystics of Europe, Edited by Paul E. Szarmach, SUNY Press, Albany,
313-329.
Citron, J., n.d.,
‘Can Shabbatai Tzvi's Popularity between 1665-66 be explained by his
faithfulness to Jewish Messianic tradition?’, Thesis, University of Manchester.
Davies, N.,
2005, God's playground: a history of Poland, Columbia University
Press, New York.
Elior, R.,
2012, ‘The Origins of Hasidism’, Scripta Judaica Cracoviensis, vol. 10,
85-109.
Halpern, I., 1969, Jews and Judaism in Eastern Europe (Hebrew), Jerusalem.
Heschel, A. J., 1974, A Passion for the Truth, Secker & Warburg, London.
Liebes, Y., 2007, ‘The Sabbatian Prophecy of
R. Heshil Tzoref of Vilna in the writings of R. Menachem Mendel of Shklov, the
student of the Gaon of Vilna and the founder of the Ashkenazi settlement in
Jerusalem’ (Hebrew), Kabbalah 17, Idra Press, Tel Aviv, 107-168 (1-91).
Rabinovitz, Z., 1941, ‘Al 'Sefer HaZoref' by
Rabbi Yehushua Heschel Zoref’, Zion, VI, 80-84.
Rosman, M.,
1982, Editor, The Stories of the Pogroms in Poland (Hebrew), Jerusalem.
Schatz
Uffenheimer, R., 1968, haChasidut keMistika (Hebrew), Magnes Press,
Jerusalem.
Tazbir, J., 1998,
‘Anti-Jewish Trials in Old Poland’, Scripta Hierosolymitana 38: Studies
in the History of the Jews in Old Poland in Honor of Jacob Goldberg, Edited by
A. Teller, Jerusalem, 233–245.
[1] This paper is adapted from a larger PhD study which I
am currently undertaking, entitled ‘Sabbatian influences on the Chassidic
and Mitnagdic movements: an excursion into messianic Kabbalah and its
disseminators in the aftermath of Shabbatai Tzvi.’
[2] The year of the Baal Shem Tov’s birth is alternately
given as 1698, 1700 and Heschel (1974:3) gives it as early as around 1690.
[3] According to Davies (2005:353) “The total number
of Jewish casualties in the period 1648-56 has been put at 56,000; the over-all
decrease in the Jewish community through death, flight, and destitution
approached 100,000.”
[4] Thus Alef = 1, Bet = 2, Gimel =
three, and so forth.
[5]Yehuda Liebes is one of the few scholars who
postulates a direct link between Sabbatianism and Chassidism
(Etkes 1996:459), a view which I subscribe to as well and deal with in my PhD
dissertation.
[6] The year 1648 in the Gregorian calendar corresponds
to the Hebrew year ת״ח which is 408. The Hebrew year is
technically הת"ח, 5408, but the millennium letter, in this case ה, or numeral 5, is often
omitted from date calculations.
[7] I notice that the Hebrew year 426 (1666) is eighteen
years after 408 (1648). The number eighteen, or חי,which means “life,”is a very well-known,
obvious and recognisable Jewish symbol of restoration. Perhaps this, amongst
other reasons, was why Shabbatai Tzvi declared 1666 to be the apocalyptic year,
the year of restoration and rebirth after the horrors beginning in 1648.
Ironically, his apostasy took place in that very year.
[8] This
calculation is made despite the fact that the fuller version (דר can also be spelt as דור)
is not found in the biblical text.
[9] This calculation assumes a ‘full’ spelling with an
extra vav in the word אוחזת, although the Torah text has it
written without the vav, as אחזת. Both
the numerical extrapolations from דר דר to דור ודור,
and אחזתtoאוחזתinvolve the
inclusion of extra vavs.
[10] See Kav haYashar, Frankfort, 1705, Chapter
102, where its author R. Tzvi Hirsh Koidanover records this teaching which he
maintains he personally heard from R. Heshil Tzoref (who
in turn heard it from a “certainMekubal (mystic).” The identity
of this “certain Mekubal” is not revealed but considering the general
attention to literary sources in the work, and the overwhelmingly influential Sabbatian
milieu and context in which R. Heshil Tzoref operated, it may quite feasibly
even allude to Shabbatai Tzvi or his ‘prophet’ R. Natan of Gaza.
[11] Here, the term Chassidim is used in its
broader context referring to ‘followers’ in general as R. Heshil Tzoref
(1633-1699) pre-dates the Chassidim of the Baal Shem Tov
(1698/1700-1760). Some Sabbatians referred to themselves as Chassidim.
[12] Without
going into the details of R. Menachem
Mendel of Shklov here, suffice it to say that there is a further allusion to
this ‘event’ in at least one other independent source as well.
[14] Some scholars like Gershom Scholem (1941:329) and his
student Rivka Schatz Uffenheimer (1968:168), however, promote the idea of the Chassidic
movement more as “neutralising” extreme messianism.
A manuscript on Bava Batra in the handwriting of R. Shlomo Ganzfried (1804-1886)
I came across a fascinating piece of little-known Halachic
history uncovered by Hadassah Wendl who is a PhD researcher on Halakhic
history at the Free University of Berlin. It’s about how a now well-known guide
to writing a Sefer Torah, entitled Keset haSofer (The Scribe's
Inkwell), came to be.
Before R. Shlomo Ganzfried (1804-1886) became the famous
author of the Kitzur Shulchan Aruch (Abridged Code of Jewish Law)
he was a businessman in Eastern Hungary, selling wines. One day, while looking
at some books in a Jewish bookshop in Debrecen, in Hungary’s Northern Great
Plain region, he chanced upon a book entitled Bnei Yona.
This article, based extensively on the research by Professor
Adiel Schremer,[1]
explores the rather provocative notion that contemporary religious Judaism has adopted a new approach which was unknown to previous generations. Schremer builds on the thought and observations of Rabbi Professor Hayim Soloveitchick[2]
(the only son of R. Joseph Ber Soloveitchick, known as the Rav, who served as
Rosh Yeshiva at Yeshiva University) who maintained this was due to an unhealthy obsession with the text - and he shows historical parallels of similar elevation of 'text above tradition' which were always reactionary to the former tradition.
Tanchuma-Yelammedeinu named after the common phrase Yelamedeinu rabbeinu:"Let our master teach us."
Introduction
This article is based extensively on the research by
Professor Dov Wiess[1] and
discusses the changing rabbinic perspectives on the permissibility, or
otherwise, of arguing with, or challenging G-d. The Torah is replete with
references to Avraham, Moshe, Job, Jeremiah, Habakkuk and even some Psalms
challenging and protesting various actions of G-d. Talmudic and Midrashic
literature followed on a similar path by an expansion of this style of protest
writing, where the rabbis placed additional confrontational words into the
mouths of the biblical characters they commented upon. Thus, biblical and
rabbinic literature is overwhelmingly in favour of humans directing challenges
to G-d when they feel they have been unjustly treated. These bold and
challenging rabbinic texts flourish and peak particularly at the end of the Talmudic
period (around the seventh century).
The thirteenth-century Moznei Tzedek by R. Avraham bar Chasdai,
Introduction
I have based parts of this article on the research presented
in ‘Judaism Adventures,’ and have additionally included some of the original
Hebrew texts as well as other observations. For contextualisation, I have drawn
on Peter Cole’s The Dream and the Poem.[1]
Sefer
Moznei Tzedek is a fascinating thirteenth-century work by R. Avraham
bar Chasdai, also known as Ibn Chasdai, which gives us a rare window into
rabbinical writings from around the time of Maimonides. Like Maimonides, Ibn
Chasdai quotes Aristo (Aristotle) and he also is well-acquainted with Islamic
teachings. He even cites sections of the Quran.
Ibn Chasdai, was a staunch follower of Maimonides, and
fought against R. Yehuda ibn Alfakhar and R. Meir haLevi Abulafia to withdraw
their opposition to the Moreh Nevuchim (Guide for the Perplexed). This
is interesting because Ibn Chasdai went on adapt or translate a work by the
Islamic mystic, al-Ghazali, which we shall soon explore.
By all accounts, Maimonides (1135/8-1204) had some
interesting views on Angels. He certainly did not view angels the same way as
most other rabbis did, especially the mystics. In this article, although the
style is somewhat cumbersome, we turn to Maimonides’ text in Moreh Nevuchim
(Guide for the Perplexed 2:6) to see his actual words describing his position.
The first challenge often posed to Rambam’s view that angels
do not exist as the spiritual beings most understand them to be, is that the
Torah mentions angles in contexts that seem to support these popular
conceptualisations. However, Rambam does not read angels that way.
The world's oldest siddur from about 1 200 years ago.
Introduction
This article, based extensively on the research by Rabbi
Professor Daniel Sperber,[1]
looks at the popular perception that the daily prayer known as the Shemoneh
Esrei, or Amidah− particularly the opening and closing blessings − have
not changed an iota for more than a thousand years.
R. Shimshon Refael Hirsch (1808-1888), R. Esriel
Hildesheimer (1820-1899) and R. David Hoffman (1843-1921) were early
protagonists of what has become known as the Modern Orthodox movement. There
were, however, some major disputes between them. This article, based
extensively on the research by Professor David Ellenson and Dr Richard Jacobs,[1]
looks at some of the differences between these early Modern Orthodox rabbis.
This article, based extensively on the research by Professor
Immanuel Etkes,[1] looks
at the recruiting processes and other activities of the two early Chassidic
courts of R. Dov Ber, known as the Magid of Mezrich, and R. Chaim Chaikel of
Amdur. Etkes bases himself on two separate texts allegedly presenting an
‘inside view’ and a personal account of the internal world of early Chassidim.
The Dead Sea Scrolls from around the 3rd century BCE to the 1st century CE
Introduction
The Hebrew Calendar that we use today has undergone some dramatic
transformation over time. What is most interesting is it seems that control
over the calendars was often directly related to control over mysticism. In
this article, based extensively on the research by Professor Rachel Lior,[1]
we examine some of the fascinating developments of the Hebrew Calendar. Much of
this information has only come to light in relatively recent times. It must be emphasised that these are Elior's views and not everyone necessarily agrees with the position she takes. Nonetheless, her observations are of great interest.
The anonymous anti-Chassidic polemic, Sefer Chassidim, 1818
Introduction
If you are interested in texts and manuscripts with their varying
Hashkafot (worldviews), then you may find the anonymous 1818 work,
entitled Sefer Chassidim[1]
to be of interest. This little-known work, a polemic (theological argument)
against Chassidism, is a challenge to some of the then-new principles of
the Chassidic movement. The manuscript was never published. In this
article, based extensively on a review[2]
by Professor Jonatan Meir, we look at some of the content of this manuscript,
without necessarily taking any one particular side.
Toledot Yakov Yosef (1817 edition) by R. Yakov Yosef of Polonnoye.
Introduction
This article, based extensively on the research by Professor
Zeev Gries, deals with the often-overlooked role of the editor in producing Chassidic
texts and in communicating Chassidic doctrines.[1]
Many are familiar with the impressive stories of the great Rebbes but
very little is known about the:
“scribes, copyists, editors, and
printers who, for better or for worse, have determined the shape in which
hasidic tradition has come down to us and dictated the course and pace of its
transmission” (Gries 1996:141).
We shall also examine how these editors helped shift Chassidism
from what started out as an experiential movement with little concern for an
authoritative literature, to one that is today defined by this very literature.
A letter written by the Kotzker Rebbe's son, R. David in 1855. It was penned during the period of his father's seclusion and R. David requests from one of the followers: “that he help...to collect the debts from our people, for the house of [our master, my father..] may he live long, good days…and Hashem should give him success.”
Introduction
This article, based extensively on the research by Dr Morris
Faierstein examines the various accounts of the last night the Kotzker Rebbe
spent with his followers in Kotzk.[1]
The popular version
The popular version of the story goes like this: One Friday
night in 1839, R. Menachem Mendel of Kotzk (1789-1859) sat with his followers
and in front of them he either smoked a pipe or extinguished the Shabbat
candles, proclaiming “Leit din veleit Dayan,” (there is no Law and
there is no Judge). Thereafter he excused himself from the gathering and
secluded himself (or was forced into seclusion by his family) for the next
twenty years until his passing in 1859.
Faierstein, however, presents a series of the written
accounts that led to this popular version and deconstructs them in an attempt
to better understand the evolutionary process behind this story. We will look
at six different written sources to see how they depicted the alleged events of
that ‘last night in Kotzk.’
