Tefillin on Chol HaMo'ed

Chol Hamo'ed, the "Intermediate Days" of Passover and Sukkot, have many laws of their own. Some holiday laws apply, others do not. Basically, labor is forbidden that is not required for Chol HaMo'ed, or the final days of the holiday. (The main exception is something that if not done, one would incur a loss).In the Talmud, we read that one may not write even a single letter in the Scribal Script. However, if one needs a mezzuzah or Tefillin for Chol Hamo'ed itself, one may write them. This at least implies that Tefillin are to be worn on Chol MaMo'ed. (Tefillin are not worn on Shabbat or holidays, but the status of Chol Hamo'ed is ambiguous). Based on this, the custom in nearly all communities was to wear Tefillin on Chol HaMo'ed. Many objected, however, as many statements in the Talmud represent a particular opinion, which may not be the final halachah. There is, in fact, an opinion in the Talmud that Tefillin are worn EVERY DAY, including Shabbat and Holidays. The above statement that one may write Tefillin for Chol HaMo'ed use, may reflect that minority view. Elijah of Vilna, for example, ruled that one must NOT put on Tefilin on Chol Hamo'ed. Many communities changed their custom with the publication of the Zohar (c. 1300). The Zohar considers the wearing of Tefillin on Chol HaMo'ed to be a great sin, as one is treating the holiday with contempt, making it like a weekday, for which one loses one's share in the World to Come. Nearly all Sepharadic communities stopped wearing Tefillin on Chol HaMo'ed because of this, as did Kabbalistically inclined Ashkenazim. With the rise of Hasidism in the 18th century, the Jews of large areas of Eastern Europe ceased wearing Tefillin on Chol HaMo'ed. The question of what to do in the case of a conflict between Kabbalah and Halachah comes into play here, with the additional factor of the existence of opinions that even without the Kabbalah, there are ample opinions against the practice (RAMBAM can be understood both ways. This is most unusual for his generally clear writings.) The rundown on who does what is as follows. German Jews put on Tefillin. Lithuanian Jews put them on, but, because of the doubt, do not recite the blessing. Those Lithuanian Jews who follow the Elijah of Vilna, do not put on the Tefillin. Virtually all Sepharadim and Hasidim do not. Most Yemenites do not. In Israel, the accepted practice is not to put them on, although some do so quietly and discretely. It is not proper to have, in the same synagogue, some putting them on and some not. However, in "mixed" communities, this is usually not stressed. One rabbi I knew, in suburban New York, wanted to make two separate services for those who do and those who don't wear tefillin on Chol Hamo'ed. He was fired for "attempting to divide the community". Although most people do whatever their father did, I consider that an error. It is more a question of ideology; to what extent we give weight to Kabbalah in deciding halachah? The commonly heard idea that if one goes to work on Chol Hamo'ed one puts on Tefillin, and if not, he doesn't, is pure folklore with no halachic basis. If one worked on Shabbat, should he put tefillin on? I do not wear Tefillin on Chol HaMo'ed

Passover 26

As I have noted n the past, the imagery of Kaballah is often of a sexual nature. G-d is the male figure, the bestower, while Man, the Jewish People, the Holy Shechinah (Divine Presence; Indwelling) are the female bestowees. In the menstrual laws (which I have discussed in an earlier series), after the woman's monthly bleeding, she performs a self-examination to determine that the bleeding has, in fact, stopped. After that, she observes seven "clean days", after which she immerses in the mikveh, and is reunited physically, as well as emotionally, with her husband. From the perspective of Kabbalah, the Seven Clean Days represent the seven emotional sefirot, which must be dealt with and perfected before the ultimate unity can occur. The Torah says that she must "count seven days". The word "count" is the same word used to denote the counting of the Omer, and has at its root the word "sapphire". The emotions need to be cleansed and made to shine. The Zohar states boldly that during the Egyptian oppression, Israel, and the Shechinah, were in a state of "menstruation", i.e., impurity and alienation from G-d. The Exodus was the "self-examination", followed by the seven-week journey to Sinai to receive the Torah. At the Giving of the Torah, we are told that a "dew" descended upon the Israelite camp. The Zohar states that this was the "Immersion of the Bride". (The first three letters of the Divine Name, can be spelled out "YUD VAV DALET, HEH ALEF, VAV ALEF VAV", and make the numerical equivalent of thirty-nine, the same as "Tal" (Dew). These are to be united with eh HEH; the Divine Feminine. There is a Midrash that Mount Sinai was lifted above them like a marriage canopy. The moment of Revelation was the "mating" of G-d and the Shechinah; G-d and Israel. Anyone who observes the rules of Family Purity will testify that after the period of separation, even couples who have been married for decades feel like newlyweds. Thus, the evening following our reenactment of the Exodus, we begin counting seven weeks, seven times seven "clean days". In many prayer books, there is a notation of what combination of emotions is to be dealt with that day. We are on our way to Sinai, but not there yet. We anticipate the wonderful moment. Alienation is still there, but will soon come to an ecstatic end. We remain awake Shavu'ot night, preserving the purity we have attained, adorning ourselves like a bride. The Kabbalah understands the mourning of the Sefirah period as the expression of the "not quite married yet" feeling of frustration. The joyous culmination will take place on Shavu'ot. One great eighteenth-century rabbi, HIDA, even went so far as to state that our observance of the semi mourning time of the Omer period has absolutely nothing to do with the students of Rabbi Akiva, but rather with this great cosmic mystery of alienation and reunification. I must say that this appeals to my sense of the joy of Judaism much more.

Passover 25

It is vital to remember that Jewish history has been filled with numerous tragedies. This is especially true of Ashkenazic Jewish history. Nearly every country in Europe expelled, or even killed, the Jews from time to time. In pre-Modern times, the greatest oppressors were the English, who, besides the usual occasional massacres, murdered huge numbers of Jews in 1190, finishing the job in 1290; burning us alive, throwing us off cliffs, and drowning us in the sea, with our children taken away, Baptized, and given to Christian families. With the coming of the Crusades, Christian soldiers massacred Jews while on their way to massacre Muslims. Fully a third of European Jews were wiped out, just like in the Holocaust. Joy departed from European Jewry, with mourning becoming a central theme in Jewish life ever since. The daily Birkat Kohanim (Priestly Blessing) was removed from the Ashkenazi daily service, reserved only for holidays, as no one could, they felt, ever be happy enough to bless ever again. Prayers for the dead became central, even on holidays. Even on holidays? Especially on holidays! Many Jews celebrate the Seder wearing a "kittel", their own future burial robe. Prayers in memory of the victims of the Crusades were placed into the Shabbat prayers, where they remain until this day. This was especially true for the Spring, when armies, full of hate, would descend on Jewish communities on their way to other battles., A prime example of this is the Tal prayer, asking for dew, recited on the first day of Passover, and the Geshem prayer for rain, recited on the eighth day of Sukkot. While the Serpharadic version is sung in a joyous tune, extolling the beauty of Nature, the Ashkenazic is in a beautiful haunting tune, and speaks of suffering; "Our blood is spilled like water, give us water!". Every occasion for mourning was infused with expressions of National anguish. We can see this trend even today, with Holocaust memorial becoming a central theme, or even THE central theme, in Jewish life. Not that it isn't vital to remember, but, in my opinion, these experiences should not define us. We read in the Talmud that the thousands of students of Rabbi Akiva died in a "plague" between Passover and Shavu'ot. Only five survived. This may mean an actual plague, or it may mean that they were casualties of the ill-fated Bar Kochba rebellion against Rome. No further details are given in the Talmud, nor is any mourning ritual for the casualties mentioned. Medieval Ashkenazic Jewry seized on this idea as an expression of their own suffering The period between Passover and Shavu'ot, all or in part, became a time of grief. This is nowhere to be found in the Talmud, or early Sepharaidic sources, such as RAMBAM and RIF. In fact, even the great Ashkenazi codifier, Rabbeinu Asher, known as ROSH, makes no mention of this. (These three are considered the "pillars" of halachah). But nevertheless, it became firmly entrenched in Ashkenazic practice, spreading to the Sepharadim by the fifteenth century. No weddings were to be performed, and no hair cutting; a common sign of mourning among Jews. Some kept this during the entire "Sefira" ("counting" of the Omer) time. Some kept it only for the first thirty-three days, some for the last thirty-three. Similar to the kitniyot custom, this took on a life all its own, becoming stricter every few generations. By the nineteenth century, all large parties and celebrations were banned during this time, as being too similar to weddings. Twentieth-century rabbis (both Ashkenazic and Sepharadic) forbade even recorded music. I asked some major poskim (decisors of halachah) for the basis of this extension, as I had heard reports of people asking rabbis and getting exemptions from these "rules". I was told that indeed, this was excessive, and could be ignored, but they didn't want to "go public" with opposition to what had become a widely accepted practice. I understand and respect that, but I question if it is wise to base so much of Judaism on mourning and regret. If seen in the context of history, I understand. But, in my opinion, we need to emphasize the love of life inherent in Torah. The Shulchan Aruch says no haircuts or weddings. Fine. This, too, is custom, not law, and is perhaps excessive. But the beautiful days of Spring, when, as Rabbi Nachman said, the very trees and herbs are singing the glory of G-d, and Talmudic law tells us to go out and praise G-d for the fruit trees in flower, we must not forget joy either. "Strength and Joy are in His Place" (1 Chronicles 16:27). I observe none of the "rules" of mourning that have been conflated with the Omer period, other than haircutting and weddings mentioned in the Shulchan Aruch.

Passover 24

One of the mitzvot associated with Passover is the Omer. We read in Leviticua 23:15, that the day after "the Sabbath" we are to bring a "wave offering" to the Temple, and (in Deuteronomy 16:9) we are commanded to count fifty days until the holiday of Shavu'ot (Pentecost, which simply means "the fiftieth" in Greek). Already in ancient times, there was great controversy concerning the meaning of these verses. The Sadducees, Samaritans, and the later Karaites interpreted the word "Sabbath" here literally. The wave offering was (they thought) always brought on a Sunday, and Shavu'ot was celebrated also on a Sunday, seven weeks later. The Pharisees (us) had an Oral Tradition that "the Sabbath" in this context means "the day of rest", i.e., the first day of Passover, during which work was forbidden similar to Shabbat. The Sages describe the festive event in detail. Before Passover, a barley field was chosen near Jerusalem, and an appropriate amount of barley plants were designated. The people of Jerusalem would go out after dark at the conclusion of the first day of the holiday. An appointed person would say "Has the Sun gone down?" and all would reply "It has gone down".This was repeated three times. If it happened to be a Friday night, he would say "Is it Shabbat?" and all would answer in the affirmative; also three times. This was to stress that the Omer ceremony overrides Shabbat. "Is this a scythe? " Shall I cut?" He would then cut enough to fill an Omer, a measure equal to about 3.64 liters. The barley was then ground and sifted with thirteen successively finer sieves. It was then baked into a loaf. The preparation took all night. In the morning, it was waved before the altar. All grain that had taken root since the last Passover, had been, until now, forbidden to eat. This is called the prohibition of "Hadash" ("New"). Now all of that grain became permitted. Today, since we don't have the Temple, we wait until the second day of Passover has passed. You will often see on packages of grain products an affirmation that it is "Yashan" (old), meaning from a crop that had taken root before the 16th of the most recent Nisan. Many are very careful about Hadash, while others feel that there is sufficient doubt as to when any particular shipment of grain grew, so that we may be lenient. Many opine that this only applies in the Land of Israel, and only in the field of a Jew, in any case. From the harvesting of the Omer offering, each man would begin to count seven weeks, or forty nine days. (The fiftieth being a separate holiday, and requiring no counting). This is still done today, although opinions differ if, in the absence of the offering, it is still Biblical or only rabbinical. In Israel, it is done immediately after dark of the eve of the sixteenth. In the Diaspora, where each holiday is doubled, we also do it at that time. There are, however, differences of opinion and custom as to whether it is better to count immediately after dark, or only at the conclusion of the second seder. We count each night "Today is one day of the Omer...two days of the Omer.." Using cardinal numbers rather than ordinal numbers, to indicate that we are building up to something, That "something" is the re-acceptance of the Torah on Shavu'ot. From day seven, we add in the weeks as well "Today is seven days, which are one week..today is eight days, which are one week and one day.." Customs differ as to whether or not women also count the Omer, even though they are not obligated. We must deal with two more topics related to the Omer; how and why it became a period of mourning, and what is its deeper significance.

Passover 23

Our fourth cup is now filled. We are to recite over it the HALLEL. There are actually two Hallels. There is the familiar "Hallel Mitzrayim" (Hallel of Egypt; Psalms 113-118) so called because a large portion of it gives thanks for the Exodus. This Hallel is recited on other holidays as well, but has special connection with Passover. In many communities (and all in Israel) it is also recited in the synagogue after the evening service of Passover. I noted in a previous post that we actually recite the beginning of this Hallel at the conclusion of the narrative MAGGID part of the SEDER, concluding it now. In a sense, the celebratory meal is part of our Praise; another kind of Hallel. The other Hallel is called Hallel Hagadol; the great Hallel. It consists of one Psalm (136). Although this Hallel is actually much shorter than the Hallel Mitzrayim, it is called "great" because it has twenty six verses, all ending in "His mercy endures forever". We recite both Hallels, followed by what is called the "Birkat HaShir" (the blessing for song); a rather lengthy description of the meaning of recognition of G-d's goodness. This section is also recited in the morning service each Shabbat and holiday, and begins with the words "Nishmat Kol Hai" (the soul of every living creature). In Israel, as well as the rest of the Mediterranean region, there is no rain in the Summer. The Winter rains are vital for survival. The Hallel Hagadol together with the Birkat HaShir, were said when the first life-giving rain would fall (usually in October). It was a praise to G-d for life itself. Therefore, the Sages saw it as fitting that we recite it at the conclusion of the Seder. After the Birkat HaShir, the fourth cup is drunk, leaning to the left. Kabbalists meditate of the letter Heh, completing the Divine Name. Most Sepharadim do not recite the blessing for wine over this cup, as the blessing for the third cup covers it, there being no major interruption between the third and fourth cups.Most Ashkenazim do recite the blessing, as each of the cups represents another essential segment of the Seder. In some communities, based on the ruling of RAMBAM, there is a separate cup for each of the two Hallels, making a total of five cups at the Seder. The Seder is now over, NIRTZAH (it is accepted). In many communities a short prayer is made, declaring our wish to celebrate the Seder again and again. Then all say "Next Year in Jerusalem" and the Seder is officially over. In most communities, various songs are sung after the Seder. These are optional, and differ from community to community. However, they give a more festive feeling to the night, and are perhaps the most beloved part of the Seder for many. Some people now recite the Song of Songs, which speaks of the love of an engaged couple for each other. This is seen as a metaphor for the love between G-d and the Jewish people. Passover is the beginning of that romance. We now begin our journey to Sinai, where the "wedding" will take place. In Israel, there is only one Seder. In the Diaspora we repeat the entire ceremony again the following night. My first year in Israel, I told the renowned Rabbi Shabbetai Sabato, who was my neighbor, that I just couldn't wrap my mind around not having a second Seder. He told me that the Seder is so unique and so special, he could not wrap is his mind around having it twice. There is truth in each.

Passover 22

The meal has ended, with the Afikoman as its climax. The third cup of wine is poured. In most communities, each participant then washes his or her fingers, in preparation for BARECH, the blessing after meals. This washing, called "Mayim Acharonim" (the latter waters, as opposed to the washing before Hamotzi) is actually required after all meals, in order to say the Birkat Hamazon (Grace) with clean hands. According to nearly all classical authorities, this is an absolute requirement. However, already by the ninth century, some communities stopped performing this ritual. Many rabbis endorsed (after the fact) this omission, saying that some of the reasons it was instituted no longer apply. For reasons I am unable to fathom, in other communities, men only perform this ritual, but not women. I hope to write a full post about Birkat Hamazon at a later date. It is the only blessing that is Biblically mandated. (Deuteronomy 8:10 "You shall eat, be satisfied, and bless...") The basic structure that was instituted is four blessings; one for the food, one for the Land, one for Jerusalem, and one added later thanking G-d for His goodness. In most communities, we then recite thanks, and supplicate for various human and specifically  Jewish needs. The exact wording differs greatly between communities. There is a running debate in the Talmud, never actually resolved, if the Blessing After Meals requires a cup of wine, as does every joyous ceremony. The practice that became universally accepted is that it is not a requirement, but nevertheless a very good thing to do, especially when there is a communal, celebratory meal. The Sages instituted at the Seder that we each use a cup of wine (as opposed to other occasions, when only the person leading the Grace holds a cup) as one of the required four cups. Since the grace separates this drinking from our earlier blessing over wine, the blessing is now again said in all communities. We drink the cup leaning to our left. Kabbalists will meditate on the letter "Vav", the third letter of the Divine name, as we drink the wine. We are almost ready for HALLEL, Psalms of Praise. We fill the fourth cup. In nearly all communities, an additional cup is then filled, called the Cup of Elijah. As we celebrate our deliverance from ancient Egypt, we anticipate our future deliverance. The Prophet Malachi (4:5) informs us that Mashiach will be proceeded by the reappearance of Elijah. Besides all of the other tasks to be performed by him, Elijah is seen as answering all unanswered questions. There is a debate in Talmud and later sources if the actual requirement is four cups or five (to be discussed in my next post). Certain Yemenites drink five. In most communities, however, we drink four, leaving an additional cup for Elijah, waiting for him to come and resolve the dispute. This was a medieval Ashkenazic custom, that became almost universal. However, it came to symbolize much more. In the face of almost constant persecution, especially at Passover time, when peasants would be incited by Christian clergy to attack the Jews, (in revenge for the death of Jesus), Jews awaited deliverance, to be announced by Elijah. Ashkenazi Jews actually "open the door for Elijah" at this point in the Seder, showing faith and courage. Children are sometimes told that Elijah visits each home, and drinks some of the wine.. so watch closely. As there is no source for this belief, I never told this to my kids, as there is enough Truth in the seder without the need for any deception. At the moment of the greatest threat to our very existence, the Jew peers into the darkness with hope

Passover 21

The meal has ended. It is time for TZAFUN, "the hidden". Near the beginning of the seder, we broke a matzah into two, and hid a piece away for the Afikoman. Afikoman is a Greek word, meaning "we go out"; that is essentially "dessert". But it is no ordinary dessert. When the Temple stood, some of the Passover sacrifice, as well as the hagigah holiday sacrifice, were eaten at the beginning of the meal. At the end of the meal, an additional piece of the Passover sacrifice was eaten. Surprisingly, this was considered the main partaking of the sacrifice. The initial eating indeed fulfilled the obligation, but this later eating was understood to be the main event. The participants at the seder are already full. Now they can fully concentrate on the MEANING of the sacrifice rather than their hunger. Although the seder can be held, and the sacrifice eaten with matzah and bitter herbs anytime after dark, there is a debate as to whether the latest time was midnight or the first light of dawn. The eventual decision of the Sages was that in either case, it should be eaten before midnight, with the doubt being if that was the actual requirement, or just a safety measure in order to keep us from overshooting dawn. The plague of the First Born occurred at midnight. Immediately following was Pharaoh's order to leave Egypt at once. The pre-midnight eating of the sacrifice was in anticipation of the huge shift in our destiny in just a few moments. That is the meaning of midnight; to recognize the moment of being closer to dawn than to darkness. It is despair in the process of becoming hope. This is one of the understandings of the meaning of the Midnight Repair, recited every night by Kabbalists. When we were no longer able to have the sacrifice, the Sages instituted the eating of an additional piece of matzah, ideally before midnight, in memory of the Passover sacrifice. We take out the matzah of the Afikoman. Each participant eats an olive's bulk (some prefer two, symbolizing both the sacrifice and the matzah that was eaten with it). Additional matzah may be added to make up the quantity. We eat it leaning to the left. We remember the sacrifice, as well as the meaning of life. In a sense, it is anti-climactic; we have already fulfilled our obligations. But like the climax of a movie, it is the act that connects all the loose ends, and we finally see what it was all about. Our physical hunger is long gone, but our spiritual hunger is now beginning to be satisfied. Although the drinking of two additional cups of wine still lies ahead, we eat no more that evening; not even a post-seder snack. The taste of deliverance is to remain in our mouths, as we set out on our National, as well as Personal, journey towards Sinai. Many people save a small portion of the Afikoman as a permanent reminder. In the folklore of some communities, they say that when Mashiach has arrived, and we are all headed towards the Holy Land, the seas will be rough. At that point, we will throw the pieces of saved Afikoman from an entire lifetime, and the sea will become calm. Life is full of stormy seas. The seder has given us the strength and power to calm them.