matches made in Russia Hamodia May 2011

Matches Made in Russia

By Debbie Shapiro

In August, 2007, when Rabbi Shimon Levin, Rosh Kollel of Saratov, Russia (see In the Merit of our Fathers—Returning the Children of Saratov to their Jewish Roots, December 2010), convinced Chaim and Tzippy Blumenfeld join his Kollel and work in outreach, they thought it would be nothing more than a one-year adventure. Little did they imagine that it would turn into their life's calling.

“We were a typical yeshiva couple. I grew up in Bnei Brak, my wife in Beit Chelkiya, an Agudah Moshav between Tel Aviv and Yerushalayim. Both of us thought it would be fun to spend a couple of years in outreach, and planned on teaching in some small, secular Israeli town. Instead, we ended up in Saratov, Russia, a university town with almost no Yiddishkeit. It was our job to create a community and do outreach with the university students. We were only twenty-three years old at the time.”

A Bit of History

Located on the Volga River in southern Russia, Saratov is a major metropolis with close to a million residents. An important cultural and scientific center, the city boasts six institutes of the Russian Academy of Sciences in addition to it twenty-one research institutes, nineteen project institutes and three large universities. Students – including many Jewish students – flock to Saratov from the entire region, which is why, among the locals, it's often referred to as "student town."

Interesting enough, the Jewish community originally consisted of former Cantonists, Jews who were forced as young children to join the Czar's army and reject their religion. After serving a minimum of twenty-five years, many of them, in an incredible display of Jewish fortitude, returned to the faith of their fathers.  Although I wasn't able to find any conclusive information as to why the Cantonists chose to settle in Saratov, I did learn that in the early eighteen hundreds the city was a center for Sabbatarians, Russian Christians who secretly embraced Judaism, and who were extremely kind to these Jewish recruits. I read one story of two Cantonists on leave from the Army who ended up spending a wonderful Pesach with this underground Jewish community, and were showered with presents, and even more important, encouraging words, before returning to their arm base. I assume that this was not an isolated incident, and that that was the reason that many of these Cantonists eventually settled there, to create a vibrant Jewish community founded on mesirus nefesh.

Today, two synagogues serves Saratov's 5000 Jews. When the Blumenfelds arrived four years ago, there were only four religious families in the city. Today, there are twelve.

@A New Life

The Blumenfeld's found themselves in a completely different world from the one they had been used to. “In Israel, we would go to the local supermarket and pile the shopping cart with tons of processed foods and readymade snacks. Here, except for a few Osem products, we couldn't find the stuff. So we ate lots of fresh vegetables and legumes, baked our own bread and cakes, and felt much, much healthier than we had ever felt in Israel.

"Today, we don't even miss it, and our kids don't want it. We're presently visiting Israel with our children, and this last Erev Shabbos my mother asked my four year old daughter what treat she would like for her Shabbos pekalah. But she wasn't interested in some sugary coated candy bar. Instead, she requested a bright red apple, like we buy her in Russia l'kavod Shabbos kodesh. My mother was flabbergasted!”

But the Blumenfelds had to deal with much more than just than a lack of ready-to-eat convenience foods. "Our chicken and meat was sent from Moscow, eighteen hours by train from Saratov. But sometimes, it just didn't come; and don't forget, the reason we were living in Saratov was to do outreach, so our Shabbos table was always crowded with at least a dozen young people interested in learning more about their heritage. One time, I realized Thursday evening that the chickens would not be arriving before Shabbos, and I phoned a friend of mine, another outreach worker living in Volgograd (formerly called Stalingrad and St. Petersburg),which is some eight hundred kilometers (approximately 500 miles) from Sarotov and asked him to send me chickens. He immediately slaughtered a dozen chickens, kashered them, and put them on a bus to Saratov. Friday morning, I was up at the crack of dawn to get to the bus station on time to pick up the chickens l'kavod Shabbos kodesh."

@At Least it was Interesting

Rabbi Blumenfeld continues, "After living in Saratov for over a year without eating any milchigs, I decided that I was going to find a cow and watch it be milked so that I could have chalav Yisrael. So I went to the marketplace and asked all the old ladies selling their produce if any of them had a cow. When I found one, I proceeded to ask her if I could come to her village to watch her milk it. Although she looked at me as if I had just walked in from outer-space, she agreed. She gave me directions to her house and added, 'Just make sure to be there very, very early in the morning.'

"The next day my friend and I left in the predawn darkness so that we could make it to the farm by six. We spent three hours bumping across dirt roads, and by the time we arrived, our kishkes were knocked out and we were completely exhausted. But we returned home with several buckets of fresh milk, which we later pasteurized and made into cheese." With a mischievous grin, Rabbi Blumenfeld adds, "It wasn't very tasty, but it sure was interesting!"  

@Outreach in Saratov

Rabbi Blumenfeld and his wife succeeded in drawing close a small nucleus of Jewish students to Judaism. "Together with the other members of the Kollel, we opened a yeshiva-type program for the boys, where they studied at university during the day and learned Torah at night, and a similar seminary type of setup for the girls. Over the four years that we were there, some sixty-seventy students were involved in our programs. Many were really excited about Yiddishkiet and determined to live a Jewish life."

But then they discovered a serious problem, one with disastrous repercussions.

"We had one girl who was mamash a bas bayis in our home. She was such a fine, aidel young woman that the kollel families took her to be the nursery school teacher for our children – in other words, we trusted her with our kinderlachs' chinuch, something that all of us take very, very seriously.

"This sweet young woman dreamed of settling down and building a Jewish home. Although she often requested that we introduce her to a fine Jewish man with similar aspirations, none of the dozen or so young men in our baal teshuvah community were suitable for her, and the closest Jewish community was some seven hundred kilometers away. Of course whenever an outreach worker came to visit, I would make sure to ask if he knew of any eligible boys, but none of them really took my request seriously.

"To make a long story short, this lovely, frum Jewish girl met a 'nice' Muslim boy and wanted to marry him. We tried everything to prevent it: we got the girl's family involved, we threatened the boy, but nothing worked. In the end, she married him."

But this was far from an isolated case. "Like everyone else doing outreach in the FSU, we were so busy learning, organizing the community and doing outreach work that we couldn't devote ourselves wholeheartedly to helping our success stories find shidduchim, which, of course, is crucial to their remaining within the Jewish community. We had one student who was so dedicated to shmiras Shabbos that on Shabbos she would walk one and a half hours each way to attend the required university courses. The university punished her for refusing to take notes on Shabbos, and she was extremely careful to never eat anything that wasn't strictly kosher. (It's important to understand that we could not suggest that these young people leave university as they viewed it as the key to their future.)

@Guidance from a Gadol

"In the summer, while we were in Israel, visiting our families, my wife received a call from this girl to let us know that she was dating a lovely student, who had promised her that he would come to Moscow to convert! My wife almost fainted on the spot! The next morning I went to speak with Rav Steinman, shlita. When I told him about these two girls and asked him for his advice, he responded: 'I'm in Bnei Brak. You're there, and since you're there, you must do everything in your power to prevent intermarriage. If you bring someone close to Yiddishkiet and then that person marries out, what have you accomplished?'

"Baruch Hashem, that story ended on a positive note. We were able to break up the relationship, and today, this girl is a true bas Yisrael, studying in a Jerusalem seminary, and hoping to find her beshert."

@Ksharim is Born

These words, "You must do everything in your power to prevent intermarriage," were the catalyst that impelled Rabbi Blumenfeld to create an organization for the sole purpose of helping Russian speaking Jews find Jewish partners.

After discussing the idea with Rabbi Avraham Edelstein, head of Ner L'Elef, and Rabbi Yaakov Baum, Rosh Yeshiva of Shvut Ami and spiritual advisor for Ner L'elef's FSU communities, Rabbi Blumenfeld returned to Saratov and started making phone calls.

"It was the beginning of the year, and I was very busy organizing my regular outreach activities. But every couple of days I'd make a phone call to another community to ask if they had any young people who wanted to get married, and then hear the details. Although in the back of my mind I had this idea of creating an organization that would help Russian speakers throughout the world, at the time I was only concerned about the young people of my community.

"Our first shidduch was between one of my wife's students and a young man from Kiev. Like a father, I traveled to Kiev to meet him and see if he was suitable for our (spiritual) 'daughter.' There were lots of phone calls and long conversations, because in this case, as in all the shidduchim that we make, we were the shadchanim, the parents and the rabbonim, all rolled into one.

"For the first meeting, the girl traveled sixteen hours by train to Kiev. The second meeting, the boy traveled to Saratov. Just like parents, we covered all the transportation costs. Both my wife and I went to the vort in Kiev, and again, four months later, for the wedding. Throughout the entire time that the couple was meeting and later on, during their engagement, we were in constant contact with both of them, guiding them in making their decisions and teaching them the basics of keeping a kosher Jewish home.

“My wife walked our 'daughter' to the chupah. My wife broke into tears at sheva brachos the next evening when she saw her wearing a shaitel for the first time. This young woman had come to as a secular college student, and now here, standing before her, was a true eishes chayil! Today, our 'daughter and son-in-law' are active members of Kiev's frum community, and a true asset to Am Yisrael.

@Ksharim Reaches Out

"The organization's turning point was when I traveled to Volgograd to meet a group of frum girls, hoping to find a shidduch for one of our students in Saratov. Although I wasn't successful, I looked through my computerized list and ended up making a shidduch between one of these girls and a boy from a different community! But it wasn't just suggesting a match. It involved a lot more than just getting the two people together. I spent hours talking with the rabbonim involved, arranging long-distant meetings, counseling the couple through the dating process, engagement period and shana rishona. But again, we had the tremendous satisfaction of helping to create a mikdash me'at, strong roots for future generations of ehrlicher Yidden.

The following year we divided our time between our outreach work in Saratov and making shidduchim for Russian speaking young Jews. Slowly but surely our 'organization' expanded. We developed a large datebase of clients, employed a field worker to meet clients and Rabbonim across the FSU, as well as an extremely intuitive and experienced shadchen to interview our clients, and come up with possible matches.

@Ksharim Becomes Official

"Last year, at a Ner L'elef retreat for their outreach workers in Eastern Europe, most of the sessions focused on the problem of intermarriage and the importance of creating strong Jewish homes to assure Jewish continuity in Eastern Europe. My wife and I decided to devote ourselves solely to this project, and founded an official organization, Ksharim.

"Today, one year later, we've made dozens of shidduchim, and provided thousands of hours of hadracha. All of our young couples continue their Torah learning, and a large percentage take off a year from their university studies to learn full time. Through strengthening their Yiddishkeit, we are creating strong, committed families; families who will become the future leaders of the Russian speaking Jewish community."

To find out more about helping stop intermarriage among Russian Jews, please contact       ksharim2020@gmail.com     www.ksharim.org

Diamonds in the Rough Hamodia May 20, 2011

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Diamonds in the Rough

---Polishing Hebrew Manuscripts

By Debbie Shapiro

"It was an amazing discovery. The manuscript remained hidden for a hundred and fifty years; people knew of its existence, but no one knew where it had disappeared to." I listened in fascination as Rabbi Moshe Buxbaum, executive director of Machon Yerushalayim, the Jerusalem Institute of Talmudic Research, told me the story of how the Ramchal's[1] special collection of five hundred and fifteen prayers to hasten the geulah was discovered and ultimately published. "The manuscript was so chashuv," he continued, "that according to the [Vilna]Gaon's talmid, Rabbi Mendel of Shklov (1750-1827), the Gaon kept the manuscript on his table and davened from it regularly.

"During the hundred and fifty years that the manuscript was missing, people knew of its existence and continued to search for it. Approximately a hundred years ago the rabbonim of Tsfas made an official kol korei asking if anyone knew of its whereabouts. 

"Somehow or another, the manuscript found its way to the Minchas Elazor of Munkacs (1871-1936). Although the Rebbe was not aware of the author's identity, he recognized the manuscript's importance and regularly davened from it. In late 1970s, my father, Rabbi Yosef Buxbaum ztz"l, the founder and former executive director of Machon Yerushalayim, received the contents of the Munkacs library from one of the children, which, of course, included this unidentified manuscript.

"One afternoon, Professor Meir Benayahu, a"h, the son of Rav Yitzchak Nissim, zt"l, and an expert in identifying Sefardi manuscripts, stopped in at my father's home. My father told him about this one manuscript – a collection of poignant prayers to hasten the geulah, written in a beautiful Italian script -- that he was unable to identify. Professor Benayahu began examining the manuscript and was so shaken by what he discovered that he had to sit down. He had recognized the Ramchal's very distinguished script, and upon reading the contents, he realized that he was holding a precious treasure in his hands – the manuscript that had been missing for the last one hundred and fifty years!

"Over the next few weeks, many talmidei chachamim and researchers from all shades of Torah-true Judaism came to my father to get a glimpse of this treasure, but none were able to decipher the script. My father then took the manuscript to Rav [Yitzchak] Hutner, zt"l, Rosh Yeshivah of Yeshivas Chaim Berlin in Brooklyn, New Yori, and Nasi of Machon Yerushalayim, who suggested that he bring it to Rabbi Chaim Friedlander, zt"l, the mashgiach of Ponovehz, to see if his chabura of talmidei chachamim, all experts in the writings of the Ramchal, could prepare the manuscript for publication.

"Tisha B'Av afternoon in 5739 [1979], a delivery man appeared at my parent's house with two copies of the newly printed sefarim. Interestingly enough, the Ramchal completed his sefer on Tisha B'Av afternoon 5489 [1729], exactly two hundred and fifty years before. The sefer, Taktu Tefillos (taf-kuf-tes-vov, which, numerically equals 515, the gematria of V'eschanan), a collection of prayers to hasten the geulah, was published in memory of my grandfather, Reb Mordechai Buxbaum, z"l, an attorney and askan, who was at the helm of the battle for Torah-true Yiddishkeit in the early, turbulent years of the Jewish State. Today, the sefer can be found in almost every Jewish library."

@The Last Remaining Rav

"My father viewed his life's work — saving Torah manuscripts from obscurity — as an avodas hakodesh. There are many reasons why very chashuva divrei Torah were never published. Sometimes, the gadol wrote them as notes for himself, without any thought of publishing them. But even if they were written with the intention of being published, reasons from lack of funding to the outbreak of a war could have prevented a sefer from actually reaching the public. It's important to understand that in previous generations publishing was much more complex than it is today. Once a sefer was fully edited and ready to print, it took hundreds of hours to prepare the plates, and at any point something could go wrong that could force the project to be placed on hold indefinitely.

"After the Holocaust, when so many important sefarim and manuscripts were destroyed, my father felt responsible to revive the previous generation's Torah, which he did through searching for the manuscripts and publishing them as sefarim. Through learning the Torah of these gedolim, we are keeping their memories alive for future generations.”

@A Case in Point

The story of Rav Nosson Notta Orlevsky (1873-1961), zt"l, who wrote his responsa from Irkotesk in Eastern Siberia and later from Moscow where he was rav, is an example of a gadol who was almost completely forgotten until his son brought the manuscripts to Israel and Machon Yerushalayim published them.

While living in Siberia under incredibly harsh conditions, Rav Orlevsky corresponded frequently with the Rogatchover Gaon, Rav Yosef Rosin (1858-1936), zz"l and responded to the many halachic queries sent to him from throughout the Soviet Union. Since it was extremely difficult to attain paper, many of his chiddushim and responsa are written on discarded military paper targets. He would walk several kilometers late at night to the nearest army camp and risk his life to remove the discarded targets from the trash so that he could record his responsa and chiddushei Torah.

In 1931, while still in Siberia, Rav Orlevsky succeeded in publishing a collection of responsa, Shus Chayei Olam Noeta.  To evade the government, he sent the manuscript in 200 separate letters to his relatives in Vilna, where it was published. It received enthusiastic approbations from the Rogatchover Gaon and Rav Chaim Ozer Gradzinsk, zichronam livrachah.

A copy of this rare sefer survived the Holocaust and is preserved in Israel's National Library, located in Jerusalem.

In addition to Chayei Olam Noeta, Rav Orlevsky authored another five sefarim that he did not manage to have published, which would have been completely forgotten if not for his son, who brought them with him when he immigrated to Israel. Machon Yerushalayim reprinted the sefer, Shus Chayei Olam Noeta together with Neta Reva'i, which consists of two sections: chiddushim on Shas and responsa.

The responsa gives us a glimpse into life under the Communists. Rav Orlevsky answers such halachic queries as, is it permissible to make a bris milah at night to evade the authorities; whether an esrog smaller than an egg can be used for reciting the brachah on a lulav and esrog; and numerous questions about agunos and keeping Shabbos under the Communists.

Because of the poor quality of the paper, the manuscripts were extremely difficult to read and most probably, if they had not been published when they were, they would have been completely lost to the Torah world. Instead, today's bnei Torah can be inspired by Rav Orlevsky's mesirus nefesh to grow in Torah under incredibly difficult conditions.

@Only Daas Torah Can Decide

I had come to the interview armed with a list of detailed questions about kisvei yad — Hebrew manuscripts. These were questions I envisioned that you, the reader, would have wanted to ask had you been with me. Who decides what should be published? Where are the manuscripts found and how are they identified? But after reading my list of questions, Rabbi Buxbaum responded that he'd "tell me a few stories that will illustrate the answer better than any explanation."

Rabbi Buxbaum begins, "You asked how we decide what should be published. Every sefer has its own story, but the following one illustrates one example of why we decided not to publish a manuscript, even though it was in excellent condition:

"Rav Yair Chaim Bachrach, zt"l (1628-1702) was a descendent of the Maharal of Prague, zt"l[2], and the Av Beis Din of Worms. He was most well known for his sefer of responsa on all areas of halachah, Chavas Yair. His grandfather, Rav Avraham Shmuel Bachrach, zt"l, (1585-1615), died after the expulsion from Worms. He had been the Av Beis Din of Worms and a talmid of the Maharal who wrote a drashah sefer on Chumash based on the drashos that the Maharal delivered in Prague, titled Shemen Hama'or. This was never published.

"At the end of the first edition of the Chavas Yair, Rabbi Yair Chaim Bachrach included the introduction to his grandfather's sefer, Shemen Hama'or, in which his grandfather, Rav Avraham Shmuel, writes that he exerted tremendous effort to edit and publish the sefer, but without success, and that he promises tremendous blessings to the person who eventually publishes it. He also warned that the sefer must be properly edited and anything not worthy of printing should be removed from the original manuscript.

“Rav Avraham Shmuel then proceeded to use strong derogatory terms to describe the person who would publish the sefer incorrectly. He concluded by writing that he is confident that the manuscript would remain intact until it was eventually published. Amazingly enough, whereas over time almost all manuscripts are damaged and full of holes, despite the fact that the Shemen Hama'or was written close to four hundred years ago, in fulfillment of the author's promise it remains in mint condition. 

"Although my father had the manuscripts for Bereishis and Shemos, the other three chumashim were missing, and the author had stipulated in the introduction that the manuscript must be published in its entirety. Then, around thirty years ago, an elderly Chassidic rebbe came to the Machon to visit my father and handed him the manuscripts for Vayikra, Bamidbar and Devarim, which he most probably inherited.

"Now that my father had the entire manuscript, he really didn't know how to proceed. Although the manuscript was in perfect condition, the author had warned that it must be edited properly – a tremendous responsibility. Someone suggested that my father arrange for ten experienced [Torah] editors to review the sefer before it was sent to print, instead of the usual two, but even so, he was concerned that a mistake might creep in. So he did what he always did in such cases – he asked daas Torah. Both the Steipler, zt"l and Rav Shlomo Zalman Aurbach, zt"l, told him to refrain from publishing the sefer.

@The Makor Chaim

Rabbi Buxbaum continues, "Rav Avraham Shmuel Bachrach's grandson, Rabbi Yair Chaim Bachrach, author of the well known sefer, Chavas Yair, also wrote a collection of halachic rulings called Makor Chaim. Machon Yerushalayim eventually published this sefer both as a separate sefer as well as an appendix to their edition to the Shulchan Aruch. Rav Yair Chaim Bachrach considered this sefer, which was first published by Machon Yerushalayim in 1982 many years after the author passed away, to be his most important contribution to limud Hatorah. It had the approbations of, among other, Rav Mordechai Ziskind Rottenberg, zt"l, the Av Beis Din of Witzenhausen and Posen and commonly known as Maharam Ziskind, and Rav Dovid Oppenheim, zz"l, Av Beis Din of Nikelsburg, author of Nishal Dovid and rosh yeshivah in Prague.

“For some reason, most probably lack of funding, this important sefer was never published and thus most of it was lost to the Olam Hatorah. Rabbi Mordechai Banet of Nicholsberg, zt"l[3], (1751-1829) inserted a section of Rabbi Yair Chaim Bachrach's Makor Chaim into his sefer, Bi'ur Mordechai. Rabbi Ezriel Hildesheimer, zt"l, (1820-1899) the Rav of Berlin's small Orthodox community and head of Berlin's Hildesheimer's Rabbinical Academy, mentioned that he had seen the manuscript but other than these two instances, this important sefer was lost to the Torah world.

"In the 1960s and early 1970s, before people realized the value of old sefarim, Reb Moshe Sheinberger, a sefarim dealer, would import crates of old sefarim and papers from Europe and sell them by weight. In 1972, my father purchased a huge stack of old sefarim and papers from him and discovered an envelope stuffed with papers stuck into one of the books' binding. It was the first thirty pages of the Makor Chaim's manuscript, which he recognized because of the Chavas Yair's distinctive script.

"Although my father was excited y this discovery, he couldn't do anything with it as most of the manuscript was still missing. But when he happened to meet Rav Ovadia Yosef, shlita, he mentioned to him that he had discovered thirty pages of the Makor Chaim. Rav Ovadia Yosef responded, 'Are you talking about the author of the Chavas Yair?' and then proceeded to tell him that Rabbi Zev Wolff Leiter, zt"l (1892-1974), a European gadol who became a Rav in Pittsburgh, mentioned in two of his sefarim, Tzion L'Nefesh Chaya and Mitoroson shel Rishonim, that he had discovered the manuscript of the Makor Chaim that was written by the author of the Chavas Yair, and then proceeded to copy a section of it into these two sefarim.

"My father immediately sent Rabbi Leiter a letter asking for information about the manuscript, but the letter arrived the day after he was niftar. So my father turned to Rabbi Leiter's cousin, Rabbi Moshe Leiter, to find out which libraries Rabbi Leiter frequented and then proceeded to send letters to these libraries asking about the manuscript. One responded in the affirmative, adding that that the manuscript is missing the first thirty pages, of course.

“The Makor Chaim was published in 1982, and the second volume in 1984. Later on, Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Aurbach, zt"l, requested that it be included as an appendix to Machon Yerushalayim's edition of the Shulchan Aruch. Today, this great posek's monumental work is used by rabbonim throughout the world."

I need to mention, as I sit in my study preparing this article for publication, that my husband, Rabbi Dovid Shapiro, an expert on Hebrew manuscripts, and Rabbi Zev Wolff Leiter's grandson, Rabbi Moshe Chaim Leiter, shlita, are editing Rabbi Zev Wolf Leiter's notes on the Rambam, soon to be published as Kvod Hamelech.

@From France to Poland

"Rabbi Yosef Dovid Sinzheim, zt"l," Rabbi Buxbaum continues, "was Chief Rabbi of France under Napoleon and head of the French 'Sanhedrin.' Although his position obligated him to be heavily involved in French politics, he had an encyclopedic Torah knowledge and spent every possible moment immersed in limud Torah. He published one sefer in his lifetime, Yad Dovid, which is widely used today in learning Shas. The Chasam Sofer eulogized him, saying, ‘He [Rabbi Yosef Dovid Sinzheim] dedicated his life to Torah, completed Shas numerous times and was completely fluent in the sefarim of the Rishonim and Achronim.’

"Over the last thirty five years, Machon Yerushalayim has published another twelve of his sefarim, and there are six more waiting to be published. Each manuscript has its own amazing story of how it was discovered.

"In the 1970s, when we published the first of Rabbi Sinzheim's sefarim, my father, Rabbi Yosef Buxbaum, traveled to France to attend a celebration in honor of the occasion. He struck up a conversation on the plane, and told his fellow passenger that he was traveling to France to celebrate the publication of a new sefer taken from old manuscripts.

"The other passenger, a movie producer living in Copenhagen, asked my father why anyone would be interested in old books. My father explained that this is the netzach, the eternity of Am Yisrael, that it binds us with our past, linking us to the giving of Torah at Har Sinai. The man was visibly moved and asked my father if he had every heard of Rabbi Eliyahu Gutmacher, zt"l.

"My father smiled, 'The Greidetzer?' he asked. The other passenger was so impressed that he shouted, 'Bravo!" But my father just laughed and said, 'In the Torah world, everyone knows of him.' Born in 1796, Rabbi Eliyahu Gutmacher was a talmid of Rabbi Akiva Eiger, zt"l. In 1822 he was chosen as rav of Pleschen, Prussia, now Poland, where he founded a yeshiva in 1839. He later moved to Greiditz, where he became known for his tzidkus and gadlus in Torah. People from throughout the world flocked to him for brachos and aitzos. 

"As it turned out, this movie producer who lived in faraway Copenhagen was the Greiditzer's grandson and several boxes of his grandfather's manuscripts were stored in his basement.

"My father was moved to tears. Here he was, traveling to the impure city of Paris, conversing with a totally secular Jew from Copenhagen, and there, up in the clouds, he discovered a real Torah treasure. A few months later, the movie producer showed up at Machon Yerushalayim with the boxes of manuscripts. So far, the Machon has published four volumes, which includes many of Rabbi Akiva Eiger's chiddushim as recorded by his prime talmid. The grandson was so moved by the amazing chain of events that he eventually became frum, and has children and grandchildren who are talmidei chachamim.

@A Case of Missing Identity

How do they identify a manuscript's author? Sometimes, like when the author signs his name, its authenticity is checked by comparing it with a different manuscript by the same author. Other times, it's like putting together a giant puzzle.

Rabbi Dovid Shapiro, who has been editing Hebrew manuscripts for close to thirty years, gives some examples to help Hamodia readers understand the challenges — and triumphs – in identifying a manuscript's author.

"I worked on the manuscripts of Rabbi Zalman Sender Kahana Shapiro, zt"l, (1851-1923), a Lithuanian gadol who moved to Yerushalayim at the end of his life. He was Rav in Maltsh and Krinik in Belarus, and Rosh Yeshiva of Anaf Eitz Chaim. Among his talmidim were Rav Aharon Kotler zt"l, Rav Isser Yehudah Unterman, zt"l and Rav Avraham Yaffin, zt"l. His son, Rabbi Avraham Dov Shapiro, zt"l, was the last Rav of Kovno and author of D'var Avraham, which included his father's ha'oros. Rabbi Zalman Sender Kahana Shapiro exchanged chiddushei Torah with many of the gedolim of his generation, and although most of the letters that we found in his collection were signed, some weren't, so we needed to find other ways to identify them.

"One such letter was obviously an answer to a previous letter, as it referred to a previous discussion and posed questions on Rabbi Zalman Sender's response to the author's original letter. After learning through the material, I recognized it as part of a series of letters between Rabbi Zalman Sender and Rav Itzeleh Ponovitcher, zt"l[4], that had been published in Vezos Liyehuda, a sefer zikaron put out by the Chevron Yeshiva in 1977, and in the sefer Zecher Yitchak, a collection of Rav Itzeleh's writings. With this missing letter, the entire give-and-take of the divrei Torah that had been published in those sefarim became crystal clear, and, as a result, we were able to understand the sugya properly.

"In another case, although the letter contained a signature, it was extremely difficult to decipher.  Someone thought that the last word looked like, 'm'Brisk,' 'from Brisk,' which would make sense since Rav Zalman Sender and Rav Chaim Brisker, zz"l[5], were first cousins and had learned b'chavrusa together. To me, however, it looked like "Pruzin," the name of a city in Belarus that was home to many famous rabbanim, including Rav Eliyahu Feinstein, commonly known as Rav Elya Pruzner, zt”l, author of Halichos Eliyahu, and grandfather of Rav Moshe Feinstein, zt"l and Rav J. B. Solovetchik, zt"l. Someone mentioned to me that one of Rav Elya Pruzner's descendents was a Jerusalem-based graphologist, and that he owned several of his grandfather's manuscripts. When we compared the handwriting, we saw that they were identical, and even had the same distinctive marks at the corner of each page. We were thus able to identify the letters as belonging to Rav Elya Pruzner.

"We knew that Rav Zalman Sender corresponded regularly with his cousin, Rav Chaim Brisker, but we did not find any of Rav Chaim's letters. I did, however, find one paper by an unidentified author which began exactly like a Torah in Rav Chaim Brisker's sefer, Rabbeinu Chaim Halevi Al HaRambam, although the ending was different. I took the paper to Rav Dovid Solovetchik, shlita, Rosh Yeshivah of Brisk, who said that yes, although it reads like his grandfather's Torah, he's not sure about the handwriting, and asked me to leave him a copy. When I returned a few days later, he told me that he recognized the handwriting. It was that of Rav Chaim's talmid, Rav Yaakov Karlinsky, zt"l, who regularly transcribed Rav Chaim Brisker's Torah for him. 

"In the following example, someone brought us a notebook of chiddushei Torah written by two bachurim from Volozhin yeshivah: Rav Dovid Tzvi Hirsch, zt"l), who later married Rav Chaim Berlin's (1832-1912) daughter and became Rav of Manchester, and Rav Meir Noach Levin, who married the daughter of Rav Eliezer Yitchok Fried,Rosh Yeshivah Volozhin, and became Rav of Moscow. At first, we assumed that the notebook contained either their own chiddushim or notes they had taken from shiurim. But when I learned through it, I recognized it as almost a direct quote from the Bais Halevi, authored by Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, zt"l, (1820-1892), as well as some additional material that was never published in the Bais Halevi.

“Upon closer examination it became obvious that the notebook was transcribed from Rav Soloveitchik's original manuscript. The notebook was dated 5625 [1865], which confirmed what we already knew, as that was the year that Rav Solovetchik left Volozhin, so we could assume that his talmidim requested to copy their rebbe's handwritten Torah into their notebook before he took leave of them. The material that had not been published in the Bais Halevi was later published in Machon Yerushalayim's Moriah Torah Journal."

@The Real Work

Once a manuscript is identified, the real work begins. People erroneously think that editors of kisvei yad are just glorified typists with a talent for deciphering hieroglyphics. But that's just a small – albeit crucial -- part of preparing the manuscript for publication. As a matter of fact, professional typists often type the manuscript before it even reaches the editor's hands, although the editor might refer back to it to check for inconsistencies and passages that were difficult for the typist to read.

What, then, goes into preparing a manuscript for publication?

Rabbi Shapiro: "Even if the author wrote the manuscript with the intention that it be published, for it to be readable, the editor needs to thoroughly familiarize himself with the subject matter so that he can properly add punctuation, sources and subtitles, as well as decipher unconventional roshei teivos. If this is done incorrectly, the meaning can be completely distorted. Although this is not absolutely necessary with familiar sefarim, with previously unpublished sefarim it is imperative. A person glancing at a new sefer to see if there's anything relevant to what he's learning, won't bother spending time trying to understand what the author is saying if it's difficult. 

“If the manuscript is unclear or if parts are damaged or torn, it's the editor's responsibility to try to understand what's missing; if not every word, then at least the general idea should be explained in a note. Although there are various techniques to accomplish this, they all require a thorough understanding of the sugya, and what the author is saying, as well as a strong sense of responsibility, especially when working on a halachah sefer.

"It is much more difficult to edit a manuscript that was obviously written for the author's own use, or that we're not sure that it was written with the intent of being published, since the author might have just written his ideas so that he won't forget them before he has time to carefully consider and/or research them. Furthermore, they may be written so concisely that the meaning is obscure. There may be what appear to be errors in quotes or sources. Sometimes we only have the first draft.

"In the letters of Rav Zalman Sender Shapiro, for example, we had correspondence where the final draft of his letter was missing (since he had sent it), but we had the reply and several drafts of his original letter. Each draft put things in a different order and added additional points that were not in the others. We used all the different letters to determine what was written in the final version, and pieced together excerpts from his letters to reflect that.

"Whenever we have a manuscript that was not written with the intent of being published, we must first consider 1) if it should be published altogether 2)how to publish it in a way that is respectful to the author, especially if corrections have to be made, and 3) how to edit it so that it will be understandable to the reader. The editor has to be sure that he understands the material accurately and thoroughly.

“Sometimes explanatory footnotes are necessary, which might include references to other writings of the author or his contemporaries. In addition, the editor adds punctuation, sources and subtitles, as well as deciphering unusual roshei teivos.

"Sometimes we have manuscripts that were written by a talmid in which the talmid either wrote what he heard from his rebbi or copied his rebbi's manuscript. Although it would be a shame not to publish such chashuver material, the editor must be very cautious. Sometimes, when copying from a manuscript, the transcriber didn't understand what he was writing at all, and there are obvious errors. In such a case, after carefully learning the sugiya and the manuscript, the editor reconstructs the material, indicating his changes with brackets or footnotes.

"In all cases the editor has a heavy responsibility to accurately convey the author's intention while balancing the needs of the reader and the kavod of the author. He also has a unique opportunity to become intimately familiar with the author's style, not just his style of writing, but also his method of learning and mehalach machshavah [way of thinking]. While working on a gadol's manuscripts, the editor becomes a talmid of the author. It is a unique opportunity to be meshamesh talmidei chachamim of previous generations."
 

SIDEBAR

The French "Sanhedrin"

In 1807 Napoleon organized a "Sanhedrin" with seventy-one rabbis and a nasi as a propaganda play to show his favorable treatment of the Jews.

END SIDEBAR

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[1] Rav Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, 1717-1746

[2] Yehudah Loew ben Betzalel (1520 –1609)

[3] Rav of Nicholsberg and all of Moravia. One of the gedolei haposkim and a renowned tzaddik, and held in such high esteem that even the Austrian nobility turned to him for advice.

[4] Rabbi Yitzchak Yaakov Rabinowitz (1854-1918)

[5] Rabbi Chaim Soloveitchik (1853-1918)

Let's Enjoy the Journey Binah, Pesach issue

Let's Enjoy the Journey

Debbie Shapiro interviews Tzippy (a pseudonym)

LEAD Some people have the knack of being able to make the proverbial lemonade out of lemons. But Tzippy goes far beyond that; her lemons are converted into delicious lemon sherbet. She's a person after my heart – so incredibly positive that she doesn't even see the bumps on the road. To her, they're just wonderful opportunities for growth and challenge, and she enjoys every moment of the journey.

END LEAD

Tzippy: Growing up, we didn't observe any mitzvos; there was no Pesach, no Yom Kippur, not even a mezuzah on our front door. I was twenty-six when my mother passed away following a five year battle with cancer. Not long afterwards, I made the life-changing decision to travel to Israel to study Judaism. I spent the next one and a half years studying at Neveh Yerushalayim. It was an amazing education!

For me, one of the biggest challenges of being a baalas teshuva was in integrating my personality with my being frum – in other words, who I was, with who I want to be. At first, I thought I'd need a lobotomy to be able to fit in to what I considered a very rigid society. I came from a very musical home, and I loved to sing and listen to music. I assumed that there was no place for that in Yiddishkiet. But I soon discovered that I was wrong. Today, I often go to women's performances and join my friends for impromptu kumsitzes. I enjoy listening to music, and have learned that here, in the frum world, I cam elevate my love of music, and make it an integral part of my avodas Hashem. The same thing with art; I love to paint, but in the secular world, art is often used immodestly. As a religious woman, I use my artistic talent to convey the beauty of Torah.

My husband, Moshe (a pseudonym) is an Israeli baal teshuva.  The fact that we found each other is a miracle, because we're from such very different backgrounds  - he's Israeli, while I'm an American, from the West Coast! Marriage is always a challenge and marrying someone from a different culture is even more of a challenge, but if the couple is flexible, the differences will only serve to bring them closer.

What are some of those differences? Well, for one, Israelis tend to eat differently from Americans. Instead of a bowl of sugary cereal for breakfast, they have bread, cheese and salad, lunch is the main meal and supper is a light, milchig meal. Although at first it was difficult for me to prepare so many meals and I wished that my husband would just pour himself a bowl of cornflakes for breakfast and grab a sandwich for lunch, I worked hard to adapt myself to his way of doing things. Today, I can honestly say that I really prefer our very healthy lifestyle.

My husband appreciates a clean, uncluttered home, with everything organized and neatly put away in the closets. At first, I found the logistics overwhelming and was extremely frustrated at my inability to do something as seemingly simple as run a home. I finally hired a professional home organizer to teach me the tricks of the trade. She helped me de-clutter my kitchen, and taught me how to fold clothes so that they would not fall off the shelves.  Once I was got that down pat, I brought in another professional who taught me how to fold sweaters and keep on top of my daily housework. That extra help made a huge difference in my life.

People often complain that Israelis are tactless because they might ask a total stranger if he owns his apartment or how he manages to cover all the bills. They view that as very nosy – delving into the secrets of their private lives.  Yet -- and now, after living I Israel for so many years I find this really strange – Americans, especially non-religious Americans, tend to air their dirty laundry in public. They often have no qualms talking about very private matters with complete strangers, all in the name of "honesty." Israelis, on the other hand, tend to be very private about their relationships. It took me a while to gain that sensitivity.

Then there's the different standard of living. To an Israeli, a three bedroom apartment is luxurious, whereas an American will see it as small. Although by California standards my family was not particularly well off, we lived in a large – by Israeli standards – house and always had more than one car. My husband, on the other hand, grew up in a fairly affluent home, by Israeli standards, yet they lived in a small apartment and never had more than one car. So after I got married, it was difficult for me to get used to living in a three room apartment, especially since during the week two of those rooms are taken over by our home business.

In addition to running our very busy household, my husband and I operate a profitable business from our living room. So although we are married for over five years, and have not yet been blessed with children, my home is always full of people – both clients as well as the several young men with special needs that we employ, and who practically live in our home while they help us run our business. I call them "my boys" because they have really become like family to us.  They eat their meals with us, and help us with everything from stuffing envelopes and depositing checks at the bank to emptying the trash and cutting vegetables for lunch.

"My boys" need to be constantly occupied, which means that I'm always busy finding things for them to do. At first, I found it very stressful to prepare meals for them in addition to my other work, but my husband pointed out that it is an opportunity for me to perform a mitzvah, and the truth is, it's really not as difficult as I originally thought. I just make an extra loaf of bread in my automatic bread maker and add some chicken to the pot.  The boys really love being part of our family, and we love teaching them to be independent. One boy, for example, has difficulty doing almost everything, but for some reason he just loves cutting vegetables. Whenever he had extra time, I put him to work making salads or soups, some that we used immediately, and some that I put in the freezer. His mother thanks me for teaching him that skill. He had always had to wait for others to serve him his meals. Now, he feels confident enough to prepare a sandwich and salad.

Our boys are all unique, with different abilities and limitations. At first, I expected too much of them, but now, I realize that when they say that they cannot do something, be it something as simple as bagging our products -- I have to accept it. Just to give you an idea of their mental abilities, of all the boys that work with us, only one is able to count, and he can only count up to ten. Although I know they are brain damaged, I have to constantly remind myself to be patient. I find it easier to be patient with the boys that look obviously retarded. The one boy who appears completely normal is the most retarded and I have to continuously remind myself that he is disabled, more like a small child than an adult, and that I must accept his disability. It's not easy.

The boys also need constant supervision, because on their own they can make some really major – and costly – mistakes. They couldn't possibly work at a normal job; but here , there's absolutely no pressure. It's really therapeutic. We try our best to give them life skills. For example, most of the boys have no idea of the meaning of money. To them, a five shekel coin is as valuable as a two hundred shekel note. You give them a shekel, they think they're rich!  So we teach them; explain it to them over and over -- and over again.  But as we repeat ourselves again and again,  we're really training ourselves to have patience. It's not easy. It's a process for all of us, but we're learning, just as they're learning. And we're also have a lot of fun. After all, the boys are really like small children, and we have six of them!

One of the perks of having the business at home is that I'm home all day. I try to be very organized. I shop for Shabbos at the beginning of the week, and finish all my Shabbos cooking by Wednesday night. But I wasn't always that way. When I first got married, I was absolutely clueless about how to organize an entire Shabbos, and every week was another hurdle. But I really worked on it, and I've learned that it's a real boon for our shalom bayis to come into Shabbos without stress!

People often ask how working together with my husband impacts our marriage. Baruch Hashem we have a very good relationship and often schmooze between our jobs. After we close the office, he goes to learn, and, more often than not, I go to a shiur or socialize with friends. At the end of the day, we both make that mental switch so that our workplace becomes our home again. And we never answer our business phone after five.

When my husband and I were still newlyweds, he told me about a close friend of his who had not yet been blessed with children after close to eight years of marriage. "Nisyanos can either bring a couple together or cause them to grow apart," he said. "My friend and his wife grew closer from their challenge. I don't know what challenges we'll face together, but whatever it is, let's hope it draws us together rather than forcing us apart." We, too, have yet to be blessed with children. Baruch Hashem this nisayon has brought us much closer to each other.

When couples have a baby right away, their focus changes, which is the way it should be. They're often tired and busy, and don't have a lot of quality time for each other. But because it's just the two of us, we have had to really work on developing our relationship; we can't hide behind the busyness of constant childcare. We spend a lot of time to talking about our goals, our dreams, were we have to change and grow. We've also had the freedom to travel all over Israel. It wasn't something that I chose, but looking back, I'm glad that we have had this opportunity to really bond.

We human beings are complex – we experience pain and joy, and often these two emotions are intertwined. So yes, although I appreciated the opportunity to spend so much quality time with my husband, I will also admit that there was a lot of pain at being childless. During the first three years of my marriage, it was extremely difficult for me to watch the months go by without a yeshua. I felt so different from my friends. I couldn't call them between five to eight – that's the time their busy giving supper and putting the kids to bed – and I felt as if life was just passing me by. Eventually, however, I decided to make peace with my situation – while continuing to do my hishtadlus.

Hashem is giving me these years to accomplish things that, had I been blessed with children right away, I probably would have never managed to do –such as complete Ulpan and, together with my husband, develop a successful business. I am very involved with a Jerusalem based organization, started ten years ago for women without children. In addition to socializing and giving each other emotional support, we share information. This year, I took over running the organization, as the women who had been in charge before me had good reason to leave, as did several other members, baruch Hashem! Last year we had a special get-together about fostering and adoption and some of our members have also opened up their homes and hearts to foster children.

I really love my life as it is today; I'm so busy, between working with "my boys," helping my husband with his projects, trying to make shidduchim, making sheva brachos for new couples in our community. Life is wonderful, and, with Hashem's help, I hope that it will get better and better as the years go on.