The Shtreimel Policy – Lighting the Hanukkah Menorah Inside the House (Column 190)
With God's help
The Talmud in Shabbat 21b determines the location for lighting the Hanukkah lamp:
The Rabbis taught: It is a commandment to place the Hanukkah lamp at the entrance of one's house, on the outside. If one lives in an upper story, he places it in the window adjacent to the public domain. And in a time of danger, he places it on his table, and that suffices..
The basic rule is to light at the entrance to the house, outside, and in a time of danger one may light inside.
Rashi there explains:
Danger—that the Persians had a rule on the day of their festival that they would not allow a lamp to be lit except in their house of idol worship, as we say in Gittin (17a).
This is codified in Maimonides (Laws of Megillah and Hanukkah 4:8), and in the Shulchan Arukh , Orach Chayim sec. 671:5. And the Taz there, s.k. 3, notes that Tosafot disagreed with Rashi in explaining what is meant by a time of danger.
The Ritva on the passage explains:
And in a time of danger, he places it on his table. This means not only a danger to life, for if so it is obvious that one should not be killed for the sake of a positive commandment, as is stated later in this tractate regarding tefillin (49a, see there), and as I have written in tractate Sanhedrin. Rather, even a danger of harassment or enmity, as in France. Therefore Rashi of blessed memory explained here that this refers to the Persians, who did not allow a lamp to be lit in any house on a particular day of their festival, as we say there (Gittin 17a): 'a Persian official came and took the lamp.' Accordingly, my teacher the Rabbi of blessed memory would say that when the wind blows so that it is impossible to light outside, one lights inside his house.
Several other commentators likewise explained that the reference is not to mortal danger, for in that there would be no novelty at all. It is speaking of a lesser danger.
In section 7 there, the Shulchan Arukh writes:
It is a commandment to place it within a handbreadth of the doorway on the left, so that the mezuzah will be on the right and the Hanukkah lamp on the left. But if there is no mezuzah in the doorway, he places it on the right. And if he placed it on the door itself, he should place it from the midpoint of the entrance toward the left side.
There is here a precise determination of the place of lighting, and the commentators and halakhic decisors naturally discussed it at length. We would have expected the place of lighting to be preserved scrupulously, as befits a halakhic approach that is meticulous about the legal details that were established. But on this the Rema comments there:
Gloss: However, nowadays, when all of us light indoors and there is no visible indication at all for the people of the public domain, there is not so much concern if one does not light within a handbreadth of the doorway. Nevertheless, the custom is to light within a handbreadth of the doorway as in their days, and one should not deviate from this unless there are many members of the household, in which case it is preferable for each one to light in a distinct place rather than mixing the lamps together, so that it is not recognizable how many lamps are being lit. Still, they should be careful not to light in the place where the lamps are lit all year round, for then there will be no recognizable indication at all. And although the indication is only for the members of the household, some indication is nevertheless required.
From his words we learn that in his time everyone lit inside the house, and yet there is still value in preserving the spirit of the original enactment. So too quite a number of medieval and later authorities wrote that in their times the custom was to light inside the house.
The problem
Up to this point there is no problem. The Rema indeed observed all the details of the law, except that apparently in his time and place there was danger, and therefore he lit inside the house. He even took care to preserve a reminder of the original enactment (this too is explicit later in the Talmudic passage there). However, down to our own day many are not careful to light outside, and there are even those who are careful not to light outside but precisely inside the house (in light of the Rema's words; mainly a Hasidic custom). This is very puzzling, since it is clear that this is a custom that arose because of danger, and once the danger passed there is no longer any reason not to light in accordance with the basic law.
Some have argued (see, for example, here) that this rule is not an indispensable requirement, for otherwise the medieval authorities would not have acted this way (assuming that the medieval authorities did so even without there being danger. Based on what? I do not know). In any event, that still does not explain why today, when there is no longer any danger, the rule is not observed ideally. Does the fact that a requirement is non-indispensable mean there is no need to observe it? Especially since I have already mentioned several times that a non-indispensable rule is not voluntary. For example, here I wrote that from the teaching that tekhelet (the blue-dyed thread) does not invalidate the white strings, one may not infer that tekhelet is voluntary. One who did not place tekhelet in his garment has fulfilled the requirement of the white strings (or of fringes), but has not fulfilled the requirement of tekhelet.
I have already heard, more than once, various conceptual explanations that try to justify this strange custom. For example, that today one should focus on illuminating the interior of the home and on inward-facing religious work toward the members of the household rather than outward. But these are, of course, at most Hasidic homilies (which, as is well known, is a pejorative term in my vocabulary). The question is: after the time for homilies is over and everyone has applauded, what place is there for such halakhic conduct?
Here I find it hard to avoid comparing this to the custom regarding legumes on Passover (see column 2), which also was apparently created because of some concern, but has remained by inertia even today, when the concern hardly exists, especially in places and foods where it certainly does not exist. There too, this justification, which sanctifies historical accidents and turns a concern into a decree, seems ridiculous to me. But with legumes, at least, this is merely a stringency: continuing to be strict even when there is no reason for it. The inertia of stringencies is well known. The question regarding the Hanukkah lamp is how an inertia of leniencies comes into being. How do people permit themselves to light contrary to the law when there is no halakhic justification for it? As noted, sometimes this is literally an extra punctiliousness not to depart from the leniency.
The Shtreimel Policy
From my perspective, this is the shtreimel policy (which very much characterizes Hasidic halakhic thinking). The Polish regime compelled the Jews to wear strange fox-tail headgear, and after the decree passed they remained with this garb as a sacred and binding code, and are even careful not to deviate from it. This policy sounds astonishingly foolish to me even in the context of the shtreimel, though there I can perhaps still understand it. Perhaps there is some gesture of defiance against the coercion of the past, and also identification with our ancestors who suffered it. Something like the story about the Baal Shem Tov's neighbor from the play Ish Hasid Haya. That Jewish neighbor's father was burned by the Cossacks. He saw that his father had turned into a small and unimpressive fire, and then he vowed that he would eat and grow and fatten himself so that when the Cossacks burned him (the eternal Jewish optimism) there would be a great flame there stretching from one end of the world to the other.
But in the case of the Hanukkah lamp this involves violating the law, and there it is harder for me to understand the logic of such a policy. Why turn distress into ideology, and what is the halakhic justification for it? Those same Jews can split hairs over every jot and tittle (the direction of lighting the candles, who is first and who second, whether the shamash (attendant candle) is on the right or on the left, what counts as the more scrupulous and the most scrupulous form of observance, what the proper time is, whether when one lights indoors this is done at the doorway of one of the rooms or on the table, and so on), but they do not observe the simple, agreed-upon, clear law to light at the entrance to the house.
History as a Higher Imperative
It seems to me that there is some assumption here that if something happened to us in history, it thereby becomes sanctified and turns into the ideally preferred mode of conduct. Perhaps because this is the hand of providence (the Holy One, blessed be He, presumably intended that we not observe the law and brought it about in His tortuous ways, with the kindly assistance of the Cossacks).
My association immediately takes me to what I wrote in my article on hermeneutics, where I pointed out that in the academic approach one interprets laws on the basis of the historical background in which they arose, whereas in yeshiva and traditional interpretation the context is ignored and the laws are interpreted from within themselves. If one looks at Jewish law with an academic eye, one gets a picture quite similar to what I described above as the shtreimel policy. Some law is created because of historical events; we then confer meaning on it from within, as though it were not a product of accidental circumstances, and now we sanctify it and see it as a binding norm.
One can of course deny the academic description and say that laws are indeed created by pure internal mechanisms and not under the influence of constraints and circumstances. But as I explained there, that is unconvincing apologetics. Research carried out properly (and of course not all research is like that) can point quite convincingly to the dependence of a law on the historical and cultural context in which it arose. If one adopts such a sober view of Jewish law, but also clings to the idea that it continues to be binding for us, one gets the shtreimel picture. The historical accident is perceived as the hand of higher providence, and so it does not bother me that the research is in fact correct and that this law is the fruit of circumstances. As far as I am concerned, this is the correct law and it is fully binding. The same is true regarding variant readings in the Talmud and in the books of the medieval authorities. Sometimes these are clear mistakes, and yet the traditional learner continues to relate to the text as it stands (I gave there a striking example from Maimonides in ch. 4 of the Laws of Hiring), that is, once again sanctifying historical accidents. The shtreimel strikes again.
My Earlier View Has Shifted
I have already been asked several times about what I wrote there, and I have already answered more than once that things have changed for me since then and I no longer see the picture as I saw it then. I assume that if I became convinced that a particular reading in the Talmud or in the medieval authorities was mistaken, I would not continue to treat the wording before us as binding and search for excuses for it. But it is important to me to say that even if one adopts my earlier view, there is still no shtreimel policy here. Even if one sees in everything that happens here the hand of God and His providence, such a consideration does not mean that one should be led to violate the law. A law that was determined by an authorized institution in such a way—even if that institution was indeed driven by historical processes and circumstances—its determination still stands (see also column 166, where in many cases there are also substantive considerations beyond the influence of circumstances). But if there is a valid legal determination and historical circumstances caused some of our ancestors to act contrary to it (permissibly, because of the danger), that does not permit us, who are no longer in such a situation, to violate it. Metaphysics, even if true, is not a legitimate halakhic consideration.
Teleological and Educational Explanations
As I already mentioned, this policy is sometimes supported by educational explanations (focusing the religious work inward, into the home). Quite apart from the fact that this is a dubious consideration, since there is nothing at all preventing one from lighting the lamp outside and educating the children inside. Why must the lamp burn inside in order to educate the children? If they go out with me beyond the doorway to light the Hanukkah menorah, will they not be educated?
But beyond that, even if this were a well-grounded and clear reason, the way of Jewish law is that such explanations usually come only after the fact. After the law is determined according to the formal parameters of Jewish law and the accepted interpretation, one may look for reasons and explanations that interpret the legal result. Explanations that bring about a change in the legal result are not accepted in Jewish law. In Torah-level laws, we rule that one does not derive law from the rationale of the verse (except perhaps where the reason is self-evident, as Tosafot HaRosh on Bava Metzia 90 holds), and even in rabbinic laws we do not interpret them according to their rationales (see, for example, the law of reading by candlelight, which was forbidden even in a place where the candle is ten stories high and there is no concern that one might tilt it—see Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayim sec. 275:1. And this was determined in a case where the reason for the decree is stated explicitly in the Talmud).[1]
Would anyone have imagined taking a law that states that one should light the Hanukkah lamp outside, and on the basis of a dubious educational reason changing it and determining that one should light inside? I assume not a single person would. Even regarding legumes, no one imagines saying that once the concern has lapsed and concerns have arisen from the opposite policy, it can be repealed, even though that was not a law established by any authorized institution. Yet here people allow themselves to do precisely that. Why? Clearly because the Talmud itself already opens such an option in a place of danger. But this was an option intended from the outset only for a place of danger, and when there is no danger there is absolutely no room to apply it because of educational considerations, dubious as they are.
It seems to me that the mechanism is the reverse: first, the medieval authorities and the Rema lit inside, and therefore this became sacred. Now we are obligated to continue the custom of our holy forefathers and light the Hanukkah lamp inside. And now comes the stage of rationalization, when a dubious Hasidic justification is proposed (focusing on the inside of the house), and everyone rejoices over the finished edifice. I am sure that if there had been no time of danger in the past, and someone had proposed lighting inside for educational reasons, those same Hasidim would have pelted him with their etrogim and explained to him with countless reasons why the more correct educational consideration is to light outside, to spread the light of the Infinite through the filthy alleyways, and so on and so on. In short, this makes a travesty of Jewish law.
An interesting question that arises here is what exactly the relationship is between laws and their reasons and the considerations that led to their establishment. Clearly, a law is established in order to achieve some purpose, and therefore there is, at least prima facie, logic in interpreting it according to its purpose. But that would justify a consistent following of the rationale. Here, however, that is not really what is being done. Rather, a local change that occurred because of other circumstances is being leveraged in order to preserve it for different reasons. For that I see no halakhic justification whatsoever.
[1] See further on this in Rabbi Zalman Nechemia Goldberg's article in Mivakshei Torah – Yom Tov (in memory of his father-in-law Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach), vol. 2.
Discussion
With God's help, 28 Kislev 5779
Nowadays there is a basic problem in fulfilling the rule of lighting at the entrance of the house adjacent to the public domain—there is almost no such thing.
In the time of Hazal, the houses opened into a courtyard, where a considerable part of the uses requiring privacy took place, and it had a domestic character. The Rishonim disputed whether one should light at the entrance of the house to the courtyard (so that the miracle would be publicized to the residents of the courtyard) or at the entrance of the courtyard to the public domain, since the courtyard has certain residential features of a home.
Today there are no domestic uses in either the courtyard or the stairwell. Only someone who lives in a detached house can light at the 'entrance of the house adjacent to the public domain.' For someone living in a shared building, the apparent choice is either to light at the entrance adjacent to the stairwell, where the 'publicizing of the miracle' will be only to the residents of that floor (if there are any at all), while the members of the household themselves will see the lamp only briefly; or to light inside the house near a window facing the public domain (which is often more than twenty cubits above the street), and lose the advantage of 'the mezuzah on the right and the Hanukkah lamp on the left.'
In short: someone who does not live in a detached house cannot both light within a handbreadth of the entrance facing the 'stairwell,' which is far from being a public domain, and also achieve 'publicizing the miracle' both for the members of the household and for the public domain. One has to forgo some part of the 'optimal way to perform the mitzvah.' Painful concessions, but sometimes necessary. Some will prefer proximity to the doorway despite the limited 'publicizing of the miracle,' and some will prefer the greater 'publicizing of the miracle' for the family and, where possible, also for the street.
Best regards, Shatz Levinger
As for the shtreimel, it is a symbol of belonging to a group: a person is proud of the beit midrash in which he studied and was educated. Some wear a shtreimel, some wear a spodik, and some—a 'Hamburg.' The disciples of Rabbi Avraham Yitzhak HaKohen and the disciples of Rabbi Avraham Yitzhak Kahn are united in wearing a 'knitted kippah,' of course with subtle nuances 🙂
See Responsa Devar Yehoshua (vol. 1, no. 40, and vol. 2, nos. 101–103), where he corresponds with Rabbi Elyashiv and others on this issue. He constructs a halakhic edifice to justify the custom of lighting indoors, and in his opinion, nowadays it is possible that one who lights outside does not fulfill his obligation.
Rashi explains that this means the danger from the Persian fire-worshipers, but that is difficult, for they came to Babylonia only in the days of the Amoraim—'when the Chaverim came to Babylonia'—whereas here we are dealing with a baraita?
It occurred to me that the baraita may be explained differently: the 'danger' is the danger of fire, described in the Mishnah in chapter 6 of Bava Kamma, about a lamp placed at the entrance of a shop that a camel bumped into and its flax was burned; Rabbi Yehudah holds, 'if it was a Hanukkah lamp—he is exempt,' but from the first tanna it appears that even for a Hanukkah lamp the one who lit it is liable, since the responsibility to guard his lamp rests upon him.
Accordingly, it stands to reason that anywhere where people live densely, and passersby—and especially small children—might bump into it, there is a danger of fire and it is preferable to light inside the house. This situation was common in the Diaspora, where Jews lived in crowded conditions, often in wooden houses, and fires frequently broke out. Wooden houses are almost nonexistent here now, but crowded apartment blocks packed with children jumping and running around—those we certainly do have, and safety is also a hiddur!
Best regards, Shatz Levinger
In my opinion, the holy custom of lighting inside stems from the holy custom of lighting with an ornate hanukkiah (so it will not be stolen). The latter is indeed a proper and praiseworthy halakhic custom, and the former is set aside because of it. All this is a defense of the Lithuanians; the Hasidim cannot and should not be explained away.
Rabbi Dichovsky (a former judge on the High Rabbinical Court) explained that 'danger' also means the danger that the hanukkiah will be stolen, and he added more reasons not to light outside-
http://mobile.ybm.org.il/Admin/uploaddata/LessonsFiles/Video/17495.mp4
Around the middle of the lecture he talks about it.
Interesting, thank you.
I would be very glad (and I think many others would too), for the benefit of hard-working and weary readers with no spare time, if you would add a TL;DR at the beginning of an article. Sort of like a heading.
To my mind this doesn't cheapen the writing; on the contrary, it allows readers to read more precisely..
In my humble opinion, the "shtreimel policy" is not connected to a historical accident; rather, it is a known policy of a club. On club theory, see for example here https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Club_good#Club_theory.
Several interesting articles have been written applying club theory to Haredi society by Eli Berman and others (I don't have a link available).
Briefly (and without insisting on precision due to the limitations of a talkback…), membership in a "club" has certain economic advantages, but if the number of members grows, the advantages diminish until they disappear. Think, for example, of a swimming pool. Assuming swimming is (also) a social activity, it's less "fun" to swim alone, but as the number of swimmers grows the pool becomes crowded and the enjoyment of swimming declines (perhaps to zero). There is therefore an optimal number of members for the "club." How do you achieve that number? By setting an optimal price that will regulate demand for the pool's services to exactly the right number. (Of course, it is easier to calculate the optimal price in microeconomics exercises than in reality… a well-known problem of planned economics, but that is not the place to elaborate.)
A Hasidic court is likewise a "club" (in the economic sense of the term), and grants advantages to its members provided that their number is limited, as explained above. Legal constraints do not allow rebbes to levy a direct regular tax on their Hasidim (beyond occasional "pidyon" and fundraising drives), and therefore the "price" set before the club member is a series of various and bizarre restrictions and prohibitions (specific dress, prohibition on consuming newspapers and possessing "non-kosher" cell phones, and many other restrictions). The rationale of this "price" is to limit the number of "club" members to the optimum. (This explains why rebbes are not upset when families leave the court because the restrictions become unbearable for them; that is precisely the point.)
Sometimes a club deteriorates into a "cult." That happens when membership in the club becomes compulsory rather than voluntary (for reasons that cannot be elaborated here), and then the club members become the submissive slaves of the cult leader, and much more could be said.
* – Not all clubs are equal. Chabad, for example, is a club that דווקא wants its membership to grow (missionary, in the vernacular). As noted, there is no way to lay out the whole theory of clubs in public economics in one talkback…
Now I understand why the custom of the rebbes and some Hasidic communities is to light Hanukkah candles crowned with a shtreimel—namely, in order to justify lighting indoors, which stems from the "shtreimel policy."
Mordechai, on the shtreimel as a club price tag, Prof. Moshe Koppel expanded in a special article:
https://hashiloach.org.il/%D7%A2%D7%9C-%D7%A9%D7%98%D7%A8%D7%99%D7%99%D7%9E%D7%9C-%D7%A9%D7%A4%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%96%D7%9B%D7%95%D7%99%D7%95%D7%AA-%D7%95%D7%A2%D7%AA%D7%99%D7%93-%D7%94%D7%97%D7%91%D7%A8%D7%94/
With God's help, 28 Kislev 5779
On the face of it, it seems that the historical process was the reverse. In the time of Hazal they lit with clay lamps, which there was no concern would be stolen. Once, for various reasons, they began to light indoors—they began producing magnificent artistically crafted hanukkiot.
Best regards, Shatz Levinger
In your opinion, is this a new phenomenon?
Lighting in a window facing the public domain sounds to me like a reasonable interpretation for a shared building nowadays.
Not necessarily. But even in earlier times I would not have accepted it.
I received another article by Rabbi Yehuda Brandes dealing precisely with this phenomenon:
https://www.steinsaltz-center.org.il/vault/RabBrandesShiur/9mekomo.pdf
And also one by Rabbi Zoldan:
https://www.yeshiva.org.il/midrash/8101
If this has been the case from time immemorial, that means that the sources you regard as authoritative are also tainted by it.
Of course you can say they are authoritative, period, but one can also see this as legitimization. Especially since the reason they are authoritative is simply that this is what people do ('they accepted it').
Since I have been at the point where you are (the approach that rejects adherence to customs that are halakhically problematic), I hope I can explain why nowadays I no longer reject it.
By the way, a more famous example is not sleeping in the sukkah because of the discomfort we suffered in cold Europe.
The idea is that the essence of Judaism is custom and tradition.
In an age of written texts, we have difficulty with customs that contradict a text, but the Oral Torah, as its name implies, is not based on books but on traditions. There is no book called the Babylonian Talmud. It is an unsuccessful transfer of oral traditions into writing.
Once that realization clicks, a great many questions become clearer.
Tam,
The fact that the Torah is transmitted through tradition does not mean that one may violate the Torah in the name of tradition.
Doesn't the Ritva, who writes that since there is wind one may light inside the house,
constitute a reason to light inside the house even nowadays?
(For presumably the Ritva does not mean that even inside the house the wind extinguishes the candles,
because if so, then it is also obvious that he is exempt since he is under compulsion in that lighting.)
With God's help, ערב ראש חודש טבת 5779
To Roni – greetings,
Tradition does not justify violating the Torah, but it certainly can serve as an indication of a different halakhic interpretation given by authorized sages. After all, in every town throughout the Jewish Diaspora there were halakhic authorities, and if throughout the Jewish Diaspora a custom spread that appears to contradict the Talmud, it is unreasonable to assume that throughout the Jewish Diaspora they entered into a 'conspiracy' to distort the halakhah.
Not all the sources of Hazal have survived in our hands, and all the more so only a small part of the discussions of the halakhic decisors were put into writing, and even of what was written much did not survive. So when one sees a custom widespread in the Diaspora—it is worth making the effort to try to find a basis for it in the sources.
Thus, for example, many ancient Ashkenazi customs, which many of the Rishonim struggled to explain because they contradict the Talmud, were found by researchers to originate in the halakhah of the Amoraim of the Land of Israel, traces of which are found in the Jerusalem Talmud, in the Midrashim, and in remnants of Eretz-Yisrael halakhic books, under whose influence Ashkenazi Jewry stood before they accepted the authority of the Babylonian Talmud. See the book of Prof. Y.M. Ta-Shma, Ancient Ashkenazi Custom.
On the subject of lighting inside the house, which was widespread both in Ashkenaz and in Sepharad, I suggested above the reasoning that 'because of danger' is not a decree about lighting candles, but the danger of fire (a reality mentioned in the Mishnah, Bava Kamma, end of chapter 6), which was common in places where Jews lived densely packed—a condition more common in the Middle Ages, when Jews were concentrated in crowded urban neighborhoods, unlike the time of Hazal when most Jews were farmers.
Best regards, Shatz Levinger
By the way, all the Rosh Chodesh customs we observe today are by the instruction of the sages of the Land of Israel, who instructed the people of Babylonia: 'Although we have sent you the calculations of intercalation—be careful to maintain the custom of your ancestors in your hands.'
Of all of them, I like Chabad's explanation for sleeping outside the sukkah best.
In what way are they violating the Torah?
Shatz"l – greetings.
Tradition certainly can be a reason to examine the matter, and it is also a consideration that must be taken into account. But in the end, if after examination the conclusion is that the halakhic sources rule against the tradition, halakhah decides. After all, our goal is to fulfill God's commandments, not to continue a senseless tradition.
Yishai,
By sleeping outside the sukkah without sufficient halakhic justification, one nullifies a positive commandment from the Torah.
I understand the criticism, but in my opinion it can be answered simply: the Hanukkah lamp is not a Torah commandment, but a practice established by the Sages. Since it is a practice, significance attaches not only to the original enactment but also to the way it was actually observed. And since in practice, it seems, many generations were accustomed to light inside the house, that option too became a legitimate practice. There is no uprooting of anything from the Torah here, or anything of the sort; rather, it is recognition that with regard to customs, "what my father did" can be a consideration that overrides "what is written in the books."
Unrelatedly, I do not understand at all how they ever managed to light Hanukkah candles outside, with the winds and rains of Kislev-Tevet, without using a glass aquarium. Last Friday night, even with the aquarium I barely managed to light.
Moshe, hello.
I think you are confusing rabbinic law with custom. Rabbinic law is law in every respect. A custom can shape it just as it can shape Torah law, and in the same ways. The fact that they practiced this way in a time of danger says nothing about changing the original law, just as if they had desecrated Shabbat in a time of danger that would not have nullified the labor prohibitions of Shabbat.
Your question how they lit outside is a good one. If someone were to say that he lights inside because outside there is wind, I would have no problem with that. But that is not what the discussion here is about.
It is only important to present here the full range of sources for wearing the shtreimel, and not only the source that makes the Hasidim an object of ridicule. From Wiki:
The origin of the shtreimel
It is commonly accepted that the shtreimel originated in Poland, where the wealthy and distinguished used to surround their hats with sable fur as a sign of their pedigree, and thus the shtreimel was adopted as festive clothing even among ordinary Jews.
There is a legend that the shtreimel originated in a decree of the Russian tsar, according to which a Jew had to tie the tail of a non-kosher animal to his hat on Sabbaths and festivals. The Jewish intercessors managed to postpone this decree until after marriageable age, and outwitted it by wrapping the tail around the hat.
Another version relates to a clothing decree requiring Jews to shave their beards. In Lithuania, the rabbis chose to submit to the demand because of danger to life. But the rabbis of Poland, led by the Chiddushei HaRim of Gur, held that this was a time of religious persecution in which Jews are commanded to give up their lives even for less severe commandments for which there is ordinarily no command to do so. After a prolonged struggle that even included the arrest of the rebbe of Gur, which led to mass demonstrations, the authorities relented, but in order to humiliate the Jews they required them to wear the dress of the Cossacks—the spodik, to hide their sidelocks under their hats, and in addition to tuck the bottoms of their trousers into their socks, a custom that has remained in Gur Hasidism to this day.
A more widely accepted view abroad is that the shtreimel comes from Russia. According to this view, when the Russian tsar issued a decree forbidding Jewish men from wearing a kippah (Russian men at that time wore the shtreimel because of the climate), the Jews wrapped fur around the kippah in order to conceal it.
Is the Sephardic custom as well—of tucking the tzitzit into the trousers and thereby nullifying "and you shall see it"—also connected to the shtreimel policy? If so, then here too is an example of this policy stripped of any spiritual explanation, or really any satisfactory explanation at all. And in connection with Zionist opposition to the practice of taking the tzitzit out, a friend from Gimzo (a religious village) told me that when one of the village youths came home for a free Shabbat from yeshiva with his tzitzit out, one of the elders of the place asked him in astonishment: why are you taking your tzitzit out?! He answered him: because it is a mitzvah. That is why I take them out. The elder replied: and circumcision is also a mitzvah?… and that is enough. Happy Hanukkah.
What has shemittah to do with scrambled eggs? That old man asked him an excellent question. There is no halakhic obligation to wear the tzitzit outside. The derivation from "and you shall see them" is not grounded in the Gemara; it is only the reasoning of some halakhic decisors, and it can easily be rejected. Therefore Sephardic decisors can claim that there is no such obligation, or at least override it because of haughtiness, which is also a halakhic principle. What does that have to do with the question of lighting the candles outside, which is contrary to the halakhah according to all views, and is done only because in the past they did it because of danger?
Incidentally, this is also unrelated to the shtreimel, because tucking in the tzitzit is justified by haughtiness, whereas the shtreimel has no intrinsic reason at all (true, in my remarks I suggested possible reasons, but they are of course much less plausible than haughtiness).
You argue that we do not interpret halakhot according to their reasons, and you bring an example from reading by candlelight on Shabbat. It seems to me there is a basic distinction here between the reasons for a halakhah and its formal definitions. It is clear that one may not read by candlelight lest he tilt it, but the Sages did not distinguish and instead established the formal rule that one may not read by candlelight. We already find this explicitly in Menachot 103: "All the measures of the Sages are like this: with forty se'ah one immerses, with forty se'ah lacking even a kortov one cannot immerse; an egg-bulk conveys food impurity, an egg-bulk lacking even a sesame seed does not convey food impurity; three by three [handbreadths] conveys midras impurity, three by three lacking a single thread does not convey midras impurity."
And this is the intent of the Gemara in Bava Batra 159 regarding Moses and Aaron, who are disqualified from testifying for their father-in-law because it is a "royal decree." The meaning is clear: anyone can imagine what would happen if righteous men were accepted as witnesses for their relatives. Every Hasid would bring his rebbe…
And that is why explanations do not change the halakhah.
I do not know what these remarks are addressing. But what you brought here concerns only the matter of fixed measures and the reasoning of lo plug. In the case of reading by candlelight no measure was established at all, so I do not see the connection.
With God's help, 3 Tevet 5779
To Gil – greetings,
The Beit Yosef in section 8 infers from the words of the Tur:
"From what our master said, 'or if he has tzitzit on his undergarment,' it appears that the way of the small tallit is to wear it under one's clothes; but from what he said in section 24, 'for the essence of the commandment is to remember the commandments, and at every hour and every moment one needs this'—it appears that the essence of the mitzvah of the small tallit is to wear it over one's clothes so that he will always see it and remember all the commandments. And so wrote Nimukei Yosef (Tzitzit 12a) in the name of the Ritva."
In the 'Glosses and Notes' in the complete Tur, note 12, he points to the words of the Nimukei Yosef:
"for the custom has spread throughout Israel to make small tallitot that are worn under the jacket," which is according to the strict law; but at the end of his words the Nimukei Yosef writes: "And even those who practice only wearing the small tallit—it is fitting to wear it over their garments in order properly to fulfill 'and you shall not stray after your hearts and after your eyes.' Furthermore, the Sages compared it (Menachot 43b) to the seal of a servant, about which his master is particular when he covers it."
Based on his words in the Beit Yosef, Maran rules in Shulchan Arukh Orach Chayim 8:11: "The essence of the mitzvah of the small tallit is to wear it over his garments, so that he will always see it and remember the commandments." The Mishnah Berurah brings in se'if katan 25 (based on the Magen Avraham): "And in the writings (= the writings of the Ari) it says that the small tallit is under one's garments, and the Magen Avraham wrote that in any case the tzitzit should be outside, unlike those who tuck them into the corners. But people who go among gentiles fulfill the requirement this way; nevertheless, at the time of the blessing they should be uncovered for the distance of four cubits of walking" (and in the following se'if katan the Mishnah Berurah strongly opposes tucking the tzitzit into the trousers).
Regarding the custom of Sephardim who practice according to the Ari, Rabbi Yaakov Hillel discusses this at length in the responsa VaYashev HaYam, vol. 1, Orach Chayim, no. 3. He brings, on the one hand, that the Ari wrote that according to the esoteric teaching the small tallit should be an inner garment above the shirt but under the outer clothing, while on the other hand one must be able to look at the tzitzit frequently. This can be fulfilled when the small tallit is above the shirt but under the jacket. In Rabbi Yaakov Moshe Hillel's opinion, even Sephardim do not need the tzitzit to be hidden from sight; it is enough that they are covered by the suit jacket and can easily be seen.
Best regards, Shatz Levinger
Shatz"l brought here those same few halakhic decisors that I mentioned. And the point remains unchanged.
In paragraph 3, line 4:
… (and in se'if katan 26 the Mishnah Berurah strongly opposes…
With God's help, 3 Tevet 5779
The Ritva's words—that tzitzit serves as the king's seal, in which we should take pride, and as a reminder of the commandments—are anchored in the 'secondary sense' of the word tzitzit in the Torah.
Rashbam explains the verse, 'And they shall make for themselves tzitzit' (Num. 15:38): "Like 'and he took me by a lock of my head' (Ezekiel 8:3), a cluster of threads hanging like the hair of the head." But on the verse, 'and it shall be for you as tzitzit' (ibid. 39), Rashbam explains: "The thread of this tzitzit shall be for you to see, that you should see it, like 'peering through the lattice' (Song of Songs 2:9)."
The word tzitzit therefore has a 'secondary sense' (a term coined by Prof. David Yellin, in his article 'Toward the Theory of Biblical Style,' cited by Rabbi Yissachar Jacobson, Netiv Binah – Studies in the Prayer Book, vol. 1, p. 253): (a) the hair-lock of the head; (b) sight (as in 'peering').
This secondary sense expresses the two functions of tzitzit, according to the Ritva: it is both a 'crown' intended for honor and glory for us as servants of the King of kings, and also a sign by whose constant sight we remember God's commandments!
Best regards, Shatz Levinger
Perhaps one should distinguish between the tassel as a whole—the white thread—whose main purpose is to remind us of our importance, and the thread of tekhelet, whose main purpose is to be seen so that we remember the commandments; and perhaps during the exile, when the thread of tekhelet was taken from us, regarding which it is mainly said 'and you shall see it'—they were less strict about the constant visibility of the tzitzit, since it lacked the thread of tekhelet..
And another note regarding tzitzit and the shtreimel –
The insistence on traditional Hasidic dress took on added importance with the outbreak of the Haskalah, whose banner proclaimed: 'Be a man when you go out and a Jew in your tent.' In opposition to the maskil who tried to resemble in all his ways his 'enlightened European' neighbor, God-fearing Jews proudly preserved traditional markers of dress and appearance, thereby conveying, both outwardly and inwardly, an unequivocal message: 'I am a proud Jew.'
Hasidim (and 'Jerusalemites') did this through the kapoteh and the shtreimel and the large small-tallit worn over the shirt. Students of the Lithuanian yeshivot expressed their esprit de corps דווקא through neat modern dress, but from under the jacket the tzitzit proudly protruded; and Bnei Akiva replaced the cap with the 'knitted kippah,' which expressed their religious pride (and with the encouragement of Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda Kook of blessed memory, those who wore their tzitzit out multiplied among them. R. Tzvi Yehuda himself wore the small tallit, in the 'Jerusalemite' manner, over the shirt and under the long coat.
Best regards, Shatz Levinger
Regarding the Hanukkah lamp you are one hundred percent right, but I just read your article on kitniyot, and there I do not entirely understand the comparison to a factual concern and the very categorical rejection that this is a custom. After all, milk that is not eaten after meat, according to some of the reasons, is because perhaps meat will get stuck between one's teeth; that too is in fact a factual concern and yet it is defined as a custom. So true, in the case of kitniyot the concern no longer exists today, but in its time it was a halakhic concern in which people adopted a stringency, and therefore it would seemingly indeed be defined as a custom to which the concept 'when the reason ceases, the enactment does not cease' applies—as opposed to a pit in the middle of the street, which is not a custom because it is a private concern depending on each individual's level of caution, whereas in halakhah an entire community acted this way, and only therefore is it considered an 'abolition of an enactment.'
With God's help, 6 Tevet 5779
An example of a custom instituted because of danger and retained even after the danger passed is the blowing of the shofar at Musaf: because 'the zealous perform commandments early,' it should have been blown at Shacharit, but due to a situation of persecution the blowing was moved to Musaf. So perhaps it is time to 'restore the crown to its former glory' and blow at Shacharit (and of course recite there the blessings of Kingship, Remembrances, and Shofars 🙂
With the blessing of 'restore the crown to its former glory,' Shatz Levinger
And another 'restore the crown to its former glory' – in the past men too wore a robe that reached at least below the knee. The current practice that men wear trousers is the result of decrees of the governments in the 19th century that Jews should dress in European style. We must restore the dress (or skirt) for men!
With the blessing of 'Praise Him with tambourine and dance,' Shatz Mak-Levinger
A custom based on a clear reason, when the reason ceases the custom also ceases. Perhaps a custom based on a court ruling is different, but that would refer to the Great Court, and that did not exist then, nor in the early days of the kitniyot custom.
The basic principle is that there is no decree and no enactment here, because at that time there was no body authorized to establish a decree or an enactment. It was a concern that people adopted for some defined reason, and there is no logic in continuing it once the reason has ceased. Certainly not in clinging to various pilpulim about what is included in it and what is not included in it (green legumes, legume oil, etc.).
If this is an enactment established by the Great Court, then indeed there is room to continue it even if the reason has ceased. But a concern that no longer exists has no relevance. By the way, the example brought in the Gemara and the Rishonim is that of the Chaverim (in Tosafot on Beitzah).
Thank you for the interesting article.
The principle you presented is probably correct, but specifically regarding the Hanukkah lamp, I think the matter is less clear-cut. That when there is danger to life one does not light outside is obvious. What the Gemara says here is that there is a way to fulfill the mitzvah also by lighting indoors, and that really is an innovation that does not exist elsewhere. If there were a decree of religious persecution not to possess lulavim, we would be exempt due to compulsion, but we would not take a laurel branch instead. With the hanukkiah, it seems that the Gemara does see lighting indoors as an attainment of the purpose of the mitzvah, and therefore in the final analysis it has validity.
Once that validity exists and the tradition exists, the road is short to the present situation (although of course treating indoor lighting as an obligation is strange).
I disagree. The fact that outside is not indispensable does not mean there is no obligation. And where did the obligation go when the danger to life disappeared?
It's like the excuses regarding tekhelet—that it does not prevent fulfillment with white alone—and the tradition of going with white.
With God's help, 15 Tevet 5779
In Rashi (Shabbat 21b, s.v. mibachutz): "Outside, because of publicizing the miracle; and not in the public domain, but in his courtyard, for their houses opened into a courtyard." However, the Ritva cites Rashi as saying: "Not outside in the public domain, but inside adjacent to the public domain," and similarly Rabbenu Yerucham cites Rashi: "Outside—at the outer doorway adjacent to the public domain, but the lamps are inside" (cited in Pri Chadash, Orach Chayim 671, note 5).
The Pri Chadash writes that this is how Rabbenu Yerucham understood Rashi's words; the editor of the Ritva's novellae, Mossad HaRav Kook edition, conjectures that the Ritva and Rabbenu Yerucham had a different version of Rashi's text.
The Ritva proves from the Mishnah in Bava Kamma 62b: "If the shopkeeper placed his lamp outside, the shopkeeper is liable. Rabbi Yehudah says: if it was a Hanukkah lamp, he is exempt"—that their custom was to place the Hanukkah lamp outside in the public domain ממש, and therefore the Ritva explains Rashi: "For this is what he means to say: it is not only that its mitzvah is literally outside, but the same law applies if it is near outside but on the inside, in a way that the people of the public domain will recognize it."
According to the Ritva's understanding, Rashi is teaching us that although initially it is preferable to light literally outside, nevertheless even when the lamps are inside near the doorway one fulfills the obligation, since it is recognizable to the people of the public domain (perhaps the recognition is at the time of lighting, when the door is open, or when the door is opened to enter or leave).
In my humble opinion, one can say differently: from the Mishnah in Bava Kamma it is not proven that there is initially an obligation to place the lamp on the outer side of the doorway, but only that there is permission to do so in order to increase the publicizing of the miracle, as the baraita in the Jerusalem Talmud explains Rabbi Yehudah's reason: "because it is permitted." And it may be that the Sages who disagree with Rabbi Yehudah and hold the shopkeeper liable even for a Hanukkah lamp would maintain that it is preferable to place the lamps inside near the doorway.
Best regards, Shatz Levinger
And as I already suggested above, perhaps 'at a time of danger' means the danger of fire in a place where dwellings are crowded. If so, then even according to those who explain 'at the entrance of his house on the outside' as literally outside, in a place of crowded dwellings it is preferable to light inside, for an enhancement of safety is also an enhancement.
None of this helps our present discussion, since according to that there is no need for any tradition at all. One may light inside, period. Those who rely on tradition think that initially it should be outside, and because they once lit inside on account of danger, they now continue inside.
And see below in my comment, 'A custom widespread among the people may indicate an ancient halakhic interpretation (to Roni),' where I pointed to examples of a widespread and otherwise unintelligible custom whose basis is an ancient halakhic interpretation or tradition whose original reason was forgotten (or almost forgotten).
Best regards, Shatz Levinger
With God's help, 18 Tevet 5779
In the baraita (the 'scholion') to Megillat Ta'anit, an additional category is explained that is not mentioned in the statement in the Bavli: an intermediate state between the normal situation and a 'time of danger.'
According to the baraita of Megillat Ta'anit: "And if he is afraid of the gentiles—he places it at the entrance of his house on the inside; and in a time of danger—he places it on his table and that suffices." It seems that in a time of danger there was concern even about lighting at the doorway on the inside, lest when the door is opened the Hanukkah lamp be revealed.
According to this, there is a source for the custom practiced in exile throughout the Jewish Diaspora to light at the doorway on the inside, since they were afraid of the gentiles; but upon our return to our land, when we are not 'afraid of the gentiles,' it seems that one should return to lighting at the entrance of the house on the outside.
Best regards, Shatz Levinger
From the words of the baraita in Megillat Ta'anit: "And those who are most scrupulous among the scrupulous—add a lamp for each person for each night," there is support for Rambam's view that the 'most scrupulous among the scrupulous' is in addition to the 'scrupulous,' and therefore each day one should add a lamp for each person (as opposed to the 'simple custom' in all the Diasporas—both in Sepharad and Shinar, as testified by Rambam, and in France and Ashkenaz, as testified by the Tosafists—that those who add a lamp for each day light only one hanukkiah per household).
The current Ashkenazi custom that each member of the household adds and proceeds (contrary to Tosafot) is based on the words of R. Avraham of Prague cited in Darkhei Moshe, that nowadays, when people light inside and there is no strictness about a 'handbreadth adjacent to the entrance,' the custom developed that each member of the household lights in a separate place, so that there is a clear indication of the number of days.
There is apparently room to discuss in our time, when people have returned to lighting at the entrance of the house on the outside, whether one should return to the custom of the Tosafists that the whole household lights one hanukkiah?
Best regards, Shatz Levinger
With God's help, 18 Tevet 5779
As we have seen, the 'shtreimel' is an expression of the Hasidic way of proudly externalizing our Jewishness, and from that standpoint it would actually be fitting to return to the original custom of lighting 'at the entrance of his house on the outside.'
Perhaps the consideration behind continuing the custom to light inside stems from the Hasidic tendency to place emphasis on the service of the heart, on performing the commandments with powerful feeling and experience. When one lights at home, it is easier to gather the whole family, including the elderly and small children, and make the lighting accompanied by song and enthusiasm.
And just as in prayer, some Hasidim preferred prayer with intention and fervor even if it would be later than the 'optimal' time—so too with lighting the Hanukkah lamp, Hasidim preferred to enhance the inward lighting of the heart, even if the halakhic 'optimal' mode of 'at the entrance of his house on the outside' was not fulfilled.
The dilemma between preserving the halakhic 'optimal' mode and the experiential 'optimal' mode is found today in many families where a significant portion of the family returns home late, and the question is: should one light immediately 'when the sun sets' in the presence of one or two people, or wait and light together 'in the multitude of the people'?
There is a fruitful and enriching tension between the aspiration to completeness both in the act of the commandment and in the service of the heart that gives the commandment life and soul!
Best regards, Shatz Levinger
What do people do in an apartment building? Light at the doorway for the neighbor across the hall (if there is one)? Go down to floor 0? Light in the window facing the apartments on the opposite side?
Besides that, once I tried to needle an elderly Jew by arguing that here in the Land of Israel, with the IDF and the police, there is no situation of danger. He asked me whether the IDF and the police control what happens in mixed cities and in Arab villages. Unfortunately I answered him that they do not. So he said that if so, the time of danger has still not passed.