Shabbat part 21

The issue of electricity on Shabbat has been a sticking point between rabbis for well over a century, and continues to raise hackles. Many rabbis take one stance publicly, but privately maintain quite different views. One side of the argument has been so vociferous, that many assume it to be the only side. Issues come into play that are not only halachic, but also pragmatic. Whether to be strict or lenient takes on another whole dimension.There can be no real solution, either, until a genuine Sanhedrin will arise. This question is a paradigm for other issues as well, that lack any solid guidelines in sources. Rabbis are forced to go with gut feelings, as well as utilizing tiny shreds of evidence that can conceivably be applied to the issue. Rabbi Chaim Ozer Grodzinski (1863 - 1940)(considered by many to be the greatest rabbi of the generation) at the introduction of electrical lighting, visited a power plant, and spoke with the engineer. At the rabbi's question of what is it and how does it work, the engineer gave a grossly oversimplified answer. "We make fire in the generator, and send it through the wires". Upon hearing that, he issued a ruling that it is Biblically forbidden to turn on the electricity, or start-up any appliance on Shabbat. On Yom Tov, however, when fire is permissible (so long as it comes from an existing fire), we may feel free to turn on lights, or use appliances. This view held sway for half a century. Some rabbis even used an electric light as a havdalah candle, in order to demonstrate that we are actually dealing with fire. Rabbi Avrohom Yeshaya Karelitz, (1878-1953), know as  Chazon Ish, disagreed. He was unconvinced that electricity is fire, but equally unconvinced that it is not fire. He ruled that we must be strict, and turn on electricity neither on Shabbat (in case it is fire) nor Yom Tov (in case it is not fire). Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach (1910-1975), believed that the premises of his two predecessors were incorrect. He said that an electric circuit has no halachic significance. However, if it heated up a piece of metal, that would, indeed, be considered fire, perhaps even Biblically. He based himself on a Talmudic statement that certain Shabbat prohibitions may be ignored in a case where the full observance would lead to pain and injury. Thus, broken glass in the street may be swept up, even in a place where there is no "eruv", as injury is likely. Similarly, the Talmud discusses a glowing metal fragment sitting in the public domain. The ruling is that it may be extinguished. RASHI maintains that such a piece of metal poses a threat of injury. It isn't really "fire" by Biblical law, but is nevertheless "fire" by rabbinic law. Rabbinic law is not applicable in a case of injury or great pain, so it may be extinguished. The Tosafot say that a glowing piece of metal is indeed Biblical fire, but as the glowing metal is not easily seen by a passersby, people might become so badly injured that their lives might be threatened, thus rendering even a Biblical labor permissible. (Or. alternatively, the entire topic may be speaking of a piece of metal that had been heated in an actual fire, rendering the whole issue of electricity a non-topic. This is the private view of several major rabbis with whom I have spoken). Rabbi Auerbach therefore ruled that an incandescent light bulb, operating with a tungsten filament, is clearly fire, either rabbinically or Biblically. But appliances that have no glowing element are at least theoretically permissible, to be decided by a qualified rabbi on a case by case basis, so as not to bring to widespread disrespect for Shabbat. The one exception he made was with hearing aids, which he considered completely permissible, even to the extent of changing a battery. (In the 1950s, hearing aid batteries needed replacement about every three hours). However, out of respect for  Chazon Ish, he did not publicize his view widely. These three men are considered the greatest rabbinic authorities in halachic matters of their age (at least in Lithuanian circles). Nearly all that has been written since struggles between these views. One prominent twentieth-century rabbi went so far as to say that even if Rabbi Grodzinsky's views were based on misinformation, once it came out of his mouth, it is forever halachah. (I consider that view to be heretical). Another prominent rabbi, on the other hand, said "Had I been there when  Chazon Ish ruled against electricity, I would have gone against him...and I would have been wrong". What would Shabbat be like with people glued to their cellphones? A great Rosh Yeshivah, Rabbi Yaakov Yitzchok Ruderman (1900-1987) was adamant that a microphone is permissible on Shabbat. We would be hard-pressed to get that ruling from a prominent rabbi today. These are the battle lines. How they are applied by different rabbis today will be the topic of my next post.

Stringencies part 2

The type of stringencies that I was referring to in my last post was those actions that either have no basis in halachah, or that have been, at one time or another, proposed, but were firmly rejected, based on both sources and logic. This must be distinguished from other forms of stringency. There are other considerations and cases. One would be where a very lenient, almost fringe view has been widely accepted; usually because of an unusual emergency situation. Such a case might be the observance of the Sabbatical Year rules in the Land of Israel. The location of agricultural lands being distant from population centers makes the real observance of these laws virtually impossible. (All fruit being declared ownerless, and giving all people the right to come and take). Two methods of "outs" for the circumvention of these laws have been proposed, with one or the other found by most to be acceptable under the circumstances. A significant minority, however, do not appreciate the "thin ice" situation, and choose to either buy produce from non-Jewish farmers, or to use only imported produce. Many can, and do, argue that this is unfair to Jewish farmers, and bad for the Israeli economy. But that may not be enough for a pious individual, who remembers all the dire words of the prophets concerning the non-observance of the Sabbatical year. (Please don't write to me that some groups actually observe the laws. No one does.). Are the legal "outs" acceptable? Under the circumstances, I would say yes. But I can't disparage those who refuse to accept the legal fictions. Another case would be where a particular question has significant opinions on both sides. A final decision has never been made. However, one side has received the sanction of custom. Some individuals may choose to not accept such a tenuous position, and thus try to follow both opinions. One example would be Tefillin. The order of the four Torah portions written in the Tefillin has been debated for almost two thousand years. In the last seven hundred years or so, custom has accepted one of the two opinions. This is widely accepted. But many (including yours truly) choose to wear two pair of Tefillin in order to be certain (besides Kabbalistic considerations). Another debated point would be stringencies that originate in Kabbalah, but have no basis in either Torah or Talmud. Many see these as being the pinnacle of Jewish practice. Some see this as appropriate for those deeply involved in Kabbalah, but not for general consumption. Some (CHATAM SOFER), while recognizing the truth of Kabbalah, totally reject it as part of the halachic system. One example would be the morning washing (Neigel Vasser). The Zohar and ARI are very strict that the impurity of sleep be washed away first thing in the morning. Many keep a basin of water at their bedside for this purpose. The Shulhan Aruch mentions the washing, but with little of the emphasis that is to be found in Kabbalah, despite that the author of the Shulhan Aruch, Rabbi Yosef Karo, was himself a Kabbalist. Many far fetched explanations for this apparent omission have been proposed. But others point out that in the Talmud, RAMBAM and other early sources, the washing is only a pre-prayer sanctification; so no need to hurry or stress. Those who choose to be strict, as well as those who are lenient, each have a solid basis. An Ashkenazi-Sepharadi issue would be the matter of statements by rabbis, that express opinions not to be found in any sources. In fact, they may even contradict sources. Sepharadim would greet these with a chuckle. Most Ashkenazim will follow these, especially if expressed by a rabbi who lived in their region. This process continues until today. Some would say that this is the way of Oral Torah. Some call it heresy. Of course, all of this is hurt by the lack of a valid Sanhedrin. The Torah puts the proper interpretation of halachah into the hands of this body (Deuteronomy 17:8-13). Although the existence of a Sanhedrin would solve much, this is nowhere more true than with situations engendered by modern technology. (Opposition to such an institution far exceeds the desire to solve these problems, however). I have been pleasantly surprised that I have largely been able to avoid the minefield topic of electricity for the last several years that I have been writing. The time has come to deal with this issue, and see what is actually law (Biblical or Rabbinic) and what is merely stringency, and where we must admit ignorance. Next time

Stringencies Part 1

A few years ago, a former Facebook friend posted, a few days before Passover, "Just got up off my hands and knees, after cleaning the cracks in the floor tiles with a tooth brush for six hours". I wrote to him "This is a needless stringency, unless you are planning to eat or cook on the floor. The prohibition of owning hametz only applies to pieces larger than the size of an egg. Although the prohibition of eating hametz applies to even a crumb, that is only if you know it's there, or at least have good reason to suspect its presence. We are commanded to rejoice in our Festival, not to become enslaved by anxieties and insecurities". He replied "what are you talking about? Passover is all about stringencies". I can find that idea neither in Torah or Talmud. Yes, we have a halachic principle that we may, in a situation of doubt, be lenient in a rabbinic law, but we must be strict in a Biblical law. But where was the doubt in the above case? RAMBAM makes clear that even in the principle that we need to be strict in a Biblical law, this concept is itself purely rabbinic. (RASHBA disagrees).Biblically, if an object or an action is doubtful, it is permissible. The rabbis instituted that we are to be more careful, so as not to violate the laws of G-d. The Talmud rules that if I find a piece of meat lying in the street, in a place where kosher butcher shops outnumber non kosher, the meat may be considered kosher. Nevertheless, the rabbis ruled it should be avoided, as there is more than a reasonable doubt that it might not be kosher. The Talmud enumerates many guidelines to what is and isn't a reasonable doubt in each case. Yet, many communities take a very stringent view on many issues, way beyond any rhyme or reason. Their feeling is that we can show our devotion to G-d by taking the most strict approach to every law. Think of a husband who loves his wife so much, he can't imagine doing anything that may remotely hurt her feelings. So one who truly loves G-d will want to please Him, and in no way offend Him. Others disagree. They argue that stringencies are generally not shows of love, but rather of insecurity in one's relationship with G-d. Moreover, they often violate the intent of the law, or even a larger principle. Going above and beyond the requirements of halachah to avoid hametz on Passover, will lessen the sense of joy and freedom we are urged to feel. If one is overly strict in the menstrual laws, the ideal of a loving relationship between spouses can be hurt, not to mention the mitzvah of procreation. The Talmud pictures King David as devoting a great deal of time and effort every day, into permitting a woman to her husband a day sooner. Qualified Orthodox rabbis spend much time learning the details of these laws, not just to say "well, I'm not sure if this stain invalidates you, so just be strict". Moreover, stringencies can lead to an unjustified sense of accomplishment and pride (arrogance). Rabbi Nachman even said that they lead to depression, and are to be avoided. (Please don't write that you know a follower of Rabbi Nachman who observes all sorts of stringencies. We live among other Jews who do things differently, and follow rabbis who have the wildest ideas of propriety. Rabbi Nachman would not approve. Rabbi Natan, his main disciple, makes a point of saying that Rabbi Nachman observed no stringencies).Rabbi Shabtai Sabato, a Sepharadi Rosh Yeshiva in Israel, said to me once "Look how the rabbis of the Talmud put every law through 'thirteen sifters' before saying either yes or no. They didn't just say 'we're not sure, so let's avoid the question by being strict". As you may have guessed, this, too, is an Ashkenazi-Sepharadi battleground. (There are exceptions on each side, however). The approach that stringencies are a good thing, is a major feature of (most) Ashkenazic opinion, whereas most Sepharadic opinion prefers a straightforward lenient approach. Askenazim tend to respect a rabbi who can show that something we have been seeing as permissible is actually problematic (I have previously shown that the standards of avoiding insects in food gets stricter every five years or so), while Sepharadim will hail the rabbi who shows that an action assumed to be prohibited is actually permissible. Each group will have its sources, as well as its logical arguments. Each will see its approach as following the will of G-d. None of this is arbitrary. Already in the first century BCE, the Jews were divided between the strict approach of the School of Shammai, and the lenient approach of the School of Hillel. We are told that this debate went on for several centuries, until a Heavenly Voice rang out "Both are the words of the living G-d, but the halachah follows Hillel". We sure could use such a voice today! What are the basic considerations for each approach, and where do they come from? To what degree do history and sociology, rather than purely religious considerations come into the picture? To be continued.

Shabbat part 20

The evening service of Saturday night is recited with mixed feelings. On the one hand, the day of joy and delight is over. On the other, a new week is beginning, blessed by the Shabbat that preceded it. There is both a feeling of dread, as well as a feeling of great optimism. According to Talmudic lore, the dead in Gehinom (Purgatory) are released from their suffering for Shabbat; forced to return as soon as the Jewish people recite their evening prayers. But the rabbis say that Mashiach will not come on a Shabbat. We await the arrival of Elijah on Saturday night, announcing his arrival. Many sing hymns on Saturday night in praise of Elijah. The main part of the evening prayer is fairly routine, with the exception of a short addition in the amidah proclaiming the end of Shabbat, and asking for a blessed, safe week. After the amidah, there are several additions. There is a Psalm meant to ward off evil (Psalm 91), as well as a recitation of the angels' praise of G-d (Holy, Holy, Holy) recited in Hebrew and Aramaic. The Kabbalistic explanation of this custom is based on the idea (mentioned in Talmud) that the angelic forces hate the Aramaic language. It is very close to Hebrew, yet it is not Hebrew. It represents twilight, the most dangerous time of day. Therefore, we recite the passages in Hebrew, and immediately translate them into Aramaic, as if to say to any and all accusing angels, G-d is in charge, from the highest levels to the lowest. At the conclusion of the service, the beautiful Havdalah prayer is said. It should be recited at home, but we also recite it at the synagogue for the benefit of those who may not have wine at home. A cup of wine is filled (many allow it to overflow, as a sign of abundance and blessing). A braided candle is lit, symbolizing a strong light to illuminate the darkness ahead. Sweet-smelling spices are held, symbolizing consolation for the special over soul we receive on Shabbat, but has now departed. Sepharadim will usually use twigs of fragrant trees, especially myrtles. Many Sepharadim bless on myrtles at each Shabbat meal as well. The same myrtles are used at Havdalah. First, verses of encouragement and hope are recited. Exactly which verses vary by community. The blessing on wine is said, followed by the spices. A blessing for "the lights of fire" (as opposed to the destructive nature of fire) is recited. Then comes the Havdalah ("separation") blessing. We praise G-d for making distinctions; between the Holy and the Profane, between Light and Darkness, between Israel and the Nations, between the Seventh Day and the Six Work Days. Sometimes all these seem like a blur. But having just experienced Shabbat, we can now have a perspective. The wine is drunk, the candle is extinguished in some of the wine. Many have the custom of dipping their fingers into the wine that has been used to put out the candle, and placing some on their eyes (for proper vision, physically and spiritually), on their temples for wisdom, and on their pockets for material blessing. All present will wish each other a good week (Shavu'a Tov in Hebrew, A Gut Voch in Yiddish). A small meal is held, as though to escort the Shabbat Queen from our homes (Melaveh Malka). In some homes, the Shabbat candles are set up for the next Shabbat at this time. That is what keeps us going. It has been said "More than the Jews have kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jews"