Tag Archives: Adam and Eve

Why Break a Glass at a Jewish Wedding?

‘Jewish Wedding’ by Jozef Israëls (1824-1911)

In this week’s parasha, Ki Tetze, we find the verse that is traditionally used as the source for the mitzvah of marriage (Deuteronomy 24:1). One of the most famous and salient features of the Jewish wedding ceremony is the breaking of the glass. Where did this custom come from, and what does it mean?

The first and most common answer is that it is meant to symbolize the destruction of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. As much as the wedding is an extremely joyous occasion, we must not forget that we are still in exile mode, and the world is far from where it needs to be. The verses recited by the groom before breaking the glass remind us of this: “If I forget you Jerusalem, let my right hand forget [its skill]. Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth if I remember you not; if I not set Jerusalem above my greatest joy.” (Psalms 137:5-6)

Exactly when this custom began is not clear. The earliest known reference to breaking a glass at a wedding does come from the Talmud (Berakhot 30b-31a), though for a different reason:

Mar, the son of Ravina, made a marriage feast for his son. He saw that the Rabbis were growing very merry, so he brought a precious cup worth four hundred zuz and broke it before them, and they became serious. Rav Ashi made a marriage feast for his son. He saw that the Rabbis were growing very merry, so he brought a cup of white crystal and broke it before them and they became serious.

When their wedding parties were getting a little out of control, Mar and Rav Ashi both broke very precious cups to shock everyone back into seriousness. (Keep in mind that 200 zuz was roughly a year’s worth of basic expenses back then, so Mar’s 400 zuz cup was worth the equivalent of thousands of dollars.) Although the Talmud doesn’t explicitly mention commemorating the Temple here, the connection can be deduced from the very next passage on that page:

Rav Yochanan said in the name of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai: It is forbidden for a man to fill his mouth with laughter in this world, as it says, “Then will our mouths be filled with laughter and our tongues with singing.” [Psalms 126:2] When will then be? At the time when “they shall say among the nations, ‘The Lord has done great things with these’.” [Psalms 126:3] It was related of Resh Lakish that he never again filled his mouth with laughter in this world after he heard this saying from Rav Yochanan his teacher.

In other words, once the Temple was destroyed, it was considered inappropriate for one to be in a totally joyous state. Only when the Temple is rebuilt will we be able to completely “fill our mouths” with laughter, as the verses in Psalm 126 imply. Therefore, during a wedding—that most happiest of occasions—we break a glass to remember that no joy is complete until the Temple is rebuilt. While this is the simple reason for breaking the glass, there are far deeper meanings behind it.

Why Glass?

Of all the ways that one might “shock” people into commemorating the Temple, and of all the things that one could choose to shatter, why is it glass in particular? One possible answer is that glass is a unique substance, as discussed by the Sages in the Talmud (Shabbat 15b-16a). They say that because glass is made from sand, it should have the same status as earthenware, which is capable of receiving impurity, and must be shattered in that case. However, the Rabbis point out that glass can be purified in a mikveh, while earthenware cannot be. They then state that because glass can be melted and reformed (while earthenware cannot be), glass vessels are actually more similar to metal vessels.

The discussion gets even more complicated because the shape of the vessels plays a role, too. The Sages then state that metal is capable of impurity on a Torah level, while earlier they state that glass is not capable of impurity on a Torah level, but only on a Rabbinic level. In other words, glass was originally a pure substance, until the Sages found it necessary to declare glass should be treated as if it can contract impurity. However, glass can be purified in a mikveh, and can also be melted and remade into a new, pure substance. What does all of this have to do with a wedding?

A couple standing under the chuppah should think of their marriage as a glass vessel. It is not an earthenware vessel, which must be permanently shattered if it takes on any impurity. It is not a metal vessel, which contracts impurities very easily. Rather, the marriage should be like a glass vessel, which remains pure (on a Torah level), and should always be kept pure (on a Rabbinic level), and which can be easily re-purified if necessary. Even when the vessel appears to be completely shattered into a thousand pieces, hope is not lost. It can be melted and reformed, and remade as good as new.

The Glassblower Analogy

The fact that glass remains pure on a “Torah level” suggests that a marriage, too, can only remain pure when it is based on Torah values. After all, the whole concept of marriage comes from the Torah! A marriage cannot prosper and flourish in the long-term without an infusion of spirituality. This is reminiscent of the old “glassblower analogy” used by the Jewish mystics to explain the interplay between the three lower souls of a Jew: the nefesh, ruach, and neshamah (for a complete explanation of these, see A Mystical Map of Your Soul.)

Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan describes it as follows:

“God formed man out of the dust of the earth, and He blew into his nostrils a breath of life.” [Genesis 2:7] This is likened to the process of blowing glass, which begins with the breath (neshima) of the glassblower, flows as a wind (ruach) through the glassblowing pipe, and finally comes to rest (nefesh) in the vessel that is being formed.

In other words, one’s neshamah is like the Breath of God, filling, forming and giving life to the body. That breath is what expands the glass vessel from a hot, molten mass and gives it a beautiful form. Similarly, a marriage needs to be filled with the Breath of God and infused with spirituality, otherwise it will simply cool and harden into an ugly, amorphous lump.

It is important to remember that marriage is entirely a spiritual thing. Animals do not get married, and our “closest” mammal relatives are not monogamous in any way. The concept of marriage comes from the very first chapters of the Torah, where God divides man into two halves and commands them to reunite as one. It is a reunion of soulmates. Without soul, a marriage is little more than two animals coming together to procreate.

In a world that is so physical and materialistic, where children are taught from a young age that they are just hairless apes and that life has no ultimate purpose, it isn’t surprising why so many marriages fail. In fact, marriage rates are down all over the world. In 1967, some 70% of American adults were married. Now that number is only around 50%, and falling fast.

In an increasingly material world, young people no longer see a point to getting married, or find that it isn’t economically viable to do so. That makes sense, because without soul a marriage is completely illogical, and contrary to our animal nature. This is why making a marriage work is very much supernatural. It requires overcoming that animal nature and rising to a higher spiritual—human—level. And within that lies the potential to repair the entire spiritual cosmos.

Shattering of the Vessels

The Zohar (I, 85b) states:

As they set out from their place above, each soul is male and female as one. Only as they descend to this world do they part, each to its own side. And then it is the One Above who unites them again. This is His exclusive domain, for He alone knows which soul belongs to which and how they must reunite.

A good marriage must have a strong spiritual foundation. A couple needs to understand that they are one soul, a soul that is an emissary of God in this world. As such, the purpose of this unified soul is to maximize mitzvot and bring more godliness into the world. In fact, the mystics state that within a marriage lies the power to rectify all of Creation.

Though he was certainly not the first to discuss it, the Kabbalah of the Arizal (Rabbi Itzhak Luria, 1534-1572) is primarily based on the concept of Shevirat haKelim, the “Shattering of the Vessels”. In the simplest of terms, when God created this universe He originally put together a totally perfect world, with ten wholesome “vessels” (the Ten Sefirot) holding it together. They couldn’t contain the Divine Light, and shattered into pieces. There were 288 major pieces, alluded to by the words “and the Spirit of God hovered over the waters” (Genesis 1:2). The word “hovered”, merachepet (מרחפת), is an anagram of met rapach (מת רפ״ח), “‘death’ of the 288”. Since then, our spiritual purpose is to repair these pieces and place them back in their rightful spot. In this way, they are like a glass vessel that is shattered and then repaired and reformed into a perfectly new vessel through an infusion of spirit.

Adam and Eve were the first to have the chance to put the whole vessel back together. This is why the Torah begins with that all-important narrative, so horribly misunderstood in our days. Unfortunately, Adam and Eve failed to realize that goal—the deeper meaning behind their consumption of the “Forbidden Fruit”. Like them, every Adam and Eve—every married couple—has an opportunity to affect the same tikkun. And that begins, on the simplest level, with establishing a wholesome union, and a happy, holy, and healthy home.

Think about it: if everyone grew up in such a home, would there still be evil in the world? If a child grows up in a healthy home, with good values, with loving parents that set an example of righteousness and holiness, will they turn to evil in adulthood? It is highly unlikely. The primary reason that there are broken people in this world is because there are broken homes. It should be mentioned that sometimes a person does come from a good home, but is corrupted by someone else from a broken home. Whatever the case, as the old Jewish saying goes, “it all comes from the home”.

This is the real meaning behind shattering the glass on a wedding. It is to remind the couple that they have an immensely important task ahead. Within them lies the power to rectify all of Creation. They shouldn’t forget that they are one soul that comes to this world on a great cosmic mission. They shouldn’t forget that marriage is an entirely spiritual institution, and requires a supernatural effort. And when, occasionally, that fails, they shouldn’t forget that just like a shattered glass vessel, the pieces can be regathered, melted, and reformed into a perfectly pure vessel, as good as new. Sometimes, like with the glass vessel, all it takes is one gentle infusion of soul.

How Many Books Are in the Torah?

In this week’s parasha, Beha’alotcha, there is a strange occurrence in the text of the Torah. The traditional way of writing Numbers 10:35-36 in a Torah scroll is with two inverted letter nuns around it:

There are a number of reasons given to explain this strange phenomenon. One answer from the Talmud (Shabbat 115b-116a) is that the nuns are there because the two verses that it surrounds make up a whole independent book of the Torah! So, the first part of Numbers, 1:1-10:34, makes up one book, then come these two verses which are a book of their own, and then the rest of Numbers, 11:1-36:13. This means that the Torah is not composed of five books, but seven books, and this is the meaning of King Solomon’s words: “Wisdom has built her house, she has hewn seven pillars.” (Proverbs 9:1) The seven books of the Torah correspond to the seven classical pillars of wisdom (which we have discussed before here).

Others hold that the nuns are there because these two verses belong earlier in the book of Numbers, but were moved here for various reasons. The Talmud does not actually say that the two verses are surrounded by nuns specifically, which led some authorities to suggest putting those nuns in actually makes a Torah scroll not kosher! This was the opinion of the Maharshal (Rabbi Shlomo Luria, 1510-1573), who stated that the inverted nuns are an entirely Kabbalistic thing, and suggested the current way of writing it isn’t exactly accurate. (See Chokhmat Shlomo on Shabbat 115b, and his Shu”t #73.)

Whatever the case, there is some beauty in saying the Torah is made up of 7 books, considering the importance of that number in Judaism. Nonetheless, everyone agrees that the Torah is a chumash made up of the Five Books of Moses, not seven. One of the earliest sources to state this is the ancient Jewish-Roman historian Josephus (37-100 CE). In Against Apion 1:8, he wrote:

For we do not have an innumerable multitude of books among us, disagreeing from and contradicting one another [as the Greeks have] but only twenty-two books, which contain the records of all the past times; which are justly believed to be divine; and of them five belong to Moses, which contain his laws and the traditions of the origin of mankind till his death. This interval of time was little short of three thousand years; but as to the time from the death of Moses till the reign of Artaxerxes king of Persia [Ahashverosh], who reigned after Xerxes, the prophets, who were after Moses, wrote down what was done in their times in thirteen books. The remaining four books contain hymns to God, and precepts for the conduct of human life.

It is true, our history has been written since Artaxerxes very particularly, but has not been esteemed of the like authority with the former by our forefathers, because there has not been an exact succession of prophets since that time; and how firmly we have given credit to these books of our own nation is evident by what we do; for during so many ages as have already passed, no one has been so bold as either to add anything to them, to take anything from them, or to make any change in them; but it is become natural to all Jews immediately, and from their very birth, to esteem these books to contain Divine doctrines, and to persist in them, and, if occasion be, willingly to die for them.

Josephus explains that the first five books of the Tanakh are those written by Moses. The following 13 were composed by the prophets that followed him, until the time of Esther. The remaining four are hymns and precepts for life. Josephus explains how there are indeed more books (referring to the apocryphal ones), but they are not included in the official canon since the era of prophets had ended, and the divine nature of those additional books is uncertain. Altogether, he says the Jews have 22 books—yet today we number the Tanakh as having 24 books! How do we account for this discrepancy?

Which Books are Holy?

The standard explanation for this discrepancy is that in the time of Josephus the book of Lamentations was combined with Jeremiah (since he wrote it), and the book of Ruth was included within Judges, where it belongs chronologically. The thirteen books of the prophets were: Joshua, Judges, Samuel, Kings, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, the Twelve Prophets, Ecclesiastes, Esther, Daniel, Ezra-Nehemiah, and Chronicles. The remaining four “poetic” books are Psalms, Proverbs, Job, and Shir HaShirim, the Song of Songs. Indeed, the traditional way of writing the scrolls for three of these books—Psalms, Proverbs, and Job—was unique, in two-column fashion, and with special cantillation marks. They were collectively called Sifrei Emet, “Books of Truth”, where Emet (אמת) stands for Iyov (איוב), “Job”; Mishlei (משלי), “Proverbs”; and Tehilim (תהלים), “Psalms”.

The Song of Songs was always a controversial book. Because of its explicitly sexual language, and the fact that it seemingly offers little in the way of history, prophecy, or law (at least not in its simple reading), there were those who wanted to remove it from the Tanakh. Rabbi Akiva famously defended its inclusion in Scripture, calling it the “Holy of Holies” (Yadayim 3:5). There in the Mishnah, the Sages debate the holiness of one other book: Kohelet (Ecclesiastes). This one, too, offers little in the way of history, prophecy, or law (at least in its simple reading), and of course, is quite depressing, too. The entire passage in the Mishnah is a fascinating read, and connects to our weekly parasha:

A scroll on which the writing has become erased and eighty-five letters remain, as many as are in the section beginning, “And it came to pass when the ark set forward…” (Numbers 10:35-36) defiles the hands. A single sheet on which there are written eighty-five letters, as many as are in the section beginning, “And it came to pass when the ark set forward”, defiles the hands. All the Holy Scriptures defile the hands. The Song of Songs and Kohelet defile the hands.

Rabbi Yehudah says: the Song of Songs defiles the hands, but there is a dispute about Kohelet. Rabbi Yose says: Kohelet does not defile the hands, but there is a dispute about the Song of Songs. Rabbi Shimon says: Kohelet is one of the leniencies of Bet Shammai and one of the stringencies of Bet Hillel. Rabbi Shimon ben Azzai said: I have received a tradition from the seventy-two elders on the day when they appointed Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah head of the academy that the Song of Songs and Kohelet defile the hands. Rabbi Akiba said: Far be it! No man in Israel disputed that the Song of Songs does not defile the hands, for the whole world is not as worthy as the day on which the Song of Songs was given to Israel; for all the writings are holy, but the Song of Songs is the holy of holies. If they had a dispute, they had a dispute only about Kohelet. Rabbi Yochanan ben Yehoshua, the son of the father-in-law of Rabbi Akiva, said in accordance with the words of Ben Azzai: so they disputed and so they reached a decision.

The Sages use the term “defiling the hands” to refer to a sacred book. If it is truly divine, it is said to cause the hands to become spiritually “unclean”. The idea is that we should be careful to touch its holy parchment. To this day, people avoid directly touching the scroll of Torah when they go up for an aliyah, and instead use their tallit. The Mishnah states that all books of the Tanakh “defile the hands”, ie. they are all sacred. The same is true for any writing that has at least 85 letters worth of Torah. How do the Sages derive this? From that special section in our weekly parasha that is delineated by two inverted nuns. There are 85 letters in them, and they are likened to a book of their own. Therefore, any time there are 85 letters of Torah written on some parchment, that piece of parchment becomes sacred.

The Mishnah then goes on to debate whether Shir HaShirim and Kohelet “defile the hands”. Rabbi Yehuda holds that Shir HaShirim is holy, but Kohelet’s status is unclear, whereas Rabbi Yose insists that Kohelet is not holy, and the status of Shir HaShirim is unclear! Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai says that Beit Shammai considered Kohelet not holy, but Hillel considered it holy. Shimon ben Azzai confidently states that he is certain both books are holy. Rabbi Akiva is certain about Song of Songs, but suggests there may have been a dispute on Kohelet. The final word goes to Rabbi Yochanan ben Yehoshua, who concludes that the earlier Sages did debate on whether these two books should be included, and decided at the end that they should.

Considering that all of the great rabbis cited above were born after Josephus (except possibly Rabbi Akiva, who in any case was not a rabbi until much later in life), it might be that Josephus speaks of the Tanakh as having 22 books because Shir HaShirim and Kohelet were still under debate in his day. It is possible that he placed them with the other apocryphal works whose sacred status is unclear, which he briefly mentions. (In that case, Lamentations would probably be among his four books of hymns, and Ruth among his 13 prophets.) There is a certain elegance in organizing the Tanakh into 22 books, one for each letter of the divine Hebrew alphabet. Since God created the universe through these divine letters, and by using the Torah as a blueprint, and since God Himself states that were it not for His Torah He would not have created the universe to begin with (Jeremiah 33:25), having 22 books of Tanakh is fitting.

(There is a similar tradition regarding the Zohar: It is said that Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai taught 22 volumes of mysticism, one for each letter of the alphabet. All were lost except the volume on the letter zayin, hence the Zohar.)

36 for Light, 40 for Purification

Having said all that, the reality is that the Tanakh has neither 22 nor 24 texts. Ezra and Nehemiah are always combined into one, even though they are separate books with different authors. The book of Twelve Prophets, Trei Assar, is a collection of twelve “minor” prophets, short texts that were put together for convenience. If we count each of these as a separate book (since it is), we get 36 books. This is a good number because 36 represents or haganuz, the divine light of Creation which shone for 36 hours before being concealed.

Even that number is not complete, though. The book of Psalms is actually five different books (Psalms 1-41; 42-72; 73-89; 90-106; 107-150). Each has an overarching theme, and each ends with a concluding line to close the book. (This is most evident with Psalm 72, which closes Book Two with the verse “The prayers of David, son of Yishai, have ended.”) With Psalms divided into its 5 parts, the total number of books in the Tanakh comes to 40!

Forty is not without significance either. That number parallels the forty days and nights Moses spent on Sinai receiving the Torah. This is also the number of days and nights it rained during the Great Flood to purify the world, and the minimum amount of water necessary for a kosher mikveh (40 se’ah). Study of Tanakh similarly serves to purify us, and we wrote recently of the mystical meaning of the letter mem—whose value is forty—and its intrinsic connection to the Torah.

Names of God  

The text of Ana b’Koach, and the 42 Letter Name of God on the left.

Finally, if we take this week’s parasha and the Talmud into consideration, and assume the Torah has seven books, it brings our total up again to 42. This number is associated with one of the most important names of God. The Talmud (Kiddushin 71a) states that the Forty-Two Letter Name of God cannot be revealed to a person unless they are “modest, and humble, and at least middle-aged, and does not get angry, and does not get drunk, and does not insist upon his rights.” The Talmud does not state what this name is. It is generally accepted to be the initials of Ana b’Koach, which has 42 words. At least one alternate tradition is that the Name is composed of the first 42 letters of the Torah. Another is that it is made up of the Tetragrammaton, plus the milui (“letter-filling”) of the Tetragrammaton, plus the milui of that. Some say there are multiple versions of the Name, corresponding to different dimensions of Creation.

The Name of 45 Using Milui

The number 42 is significant for many other reasons. It represents the entirety of Torah, since the Written Torah begins with a letter bet (“Beresheet”), and the Oral Torah (ie. the Mishnah/Talmud) begins with the letter mem (“M’imatai”), together adding up to 42. When God told us to speak words of Torah all the time (Deuteronomy 6:4, which we recite daily in the Shema), the words used are v’dibarta bam (ודברת בם), alluding to the Written and Oral Torahs. And, of course, in Douglas Adams’ classic Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, the number 42 is the answer to “life, the universe, and everything”.

It should be mentioned that when the Tanakh was first translated into Greek over two thousand years ago, the books of Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles were split in half. This is because while Hebrew lacks vowels, Greek doesn’t, so the translations were a lot longer than the originals. The Greek versions could not fit on standard scrolls, so they were divided in two. A whole system of numbering and citation was built around that. Eventually, that system was adopted by Jews, too, and we use it today. Although this division is seemingly non-Jewish in origin, the most likely case is that the division was instituted by Jewish scribes, as they were the ones translating the Hebrew into Greek (see Septuagint). If we maintain those divisions, the Tanakh would have 45 books!

Forty five is the gematria of Adam (אדם), and also another important Name of God in Kabbalah (יו”ד ה”א וא”ו ה”א), referred to as Shem Mah, “the Name of Forty-Five”. This is the name most associated with tikkun, man’s rectification and perfection. A person who fully rectifies themselves, ascends to the highest spiritual levels, and unites with God is said to be a complete “Adam” of Forty-Five, and is one with God’s Name of Forty-Five. This monumental task would be impossible to accomplish without study, meditation, and practice of the Tanakh and its 45 parts.

Why 24?

Despite all of the above possibilities, the Sages set the official number of Tanakh books at 24. Why this number in particular? Several weeks ago we discussed the significance of this number as it pertains to the traditional 24 ornaments of a Jewish bride. Since the Jewish people standing at Mt. Sinai were compared to a bride—with God being the groom, and the Torah being the ketubah—and a bride is to be adorned with 24 ornaments, God “adorned” us with 24 precious holy works of the Tanakh.

Another explanation is that there are 24 hours in a day. We read in the Tanakh that words of Scripture should never leave our lips, and that we should be meditating upon these holy words yomam v’lilah, “all day and night” (Joshua 1:8). This is the exact same term used in Jeremiah 33:25 (cited above) where God states that were it not for His covenant yomam v’lilah, ie. if His Torah was not observed and studied 24/7—He would “not establish the laws of Heaven and Earth.” God created this universe, with all of its natural laws and cycles, on the condition that His Torah would be diligently kept. And the most important cycle of nature for us humans, giving structure to our lives, is the daily rhythm of 24 hours. The 24 books of Tanakh appropriately parallel this.

Some scholars have pointed out another interesting parallel: in the ancient Greek world the most important text of study was Homer’s Iliad, which was generally divided into 24 books. Rabbi Burton Visotzky writes:

Much as the Greeks and Romans wrote commentary and endlessly quoted from the twenty-four books of “the divine Homer”, so the rabbis quoted and commented on the twenty-four books of the Hebrew Bible. That the number of books is the same is not a coincidence; it required the rabbis to do some creative accounting in order to show that the rabbinic canon and the Greco-Roman “canon” were libraries with the same number of volumes. (Aphrodite and the Rabbis, pg. 11)

While Visotzky suggests that the Sages wanted to make the Tanakh 24 books so that it resembles Homer’s 24 books, it might have happened the opposite way.

Jews vs. Greeks

It isn’t clear when Homer’s Iliad was first divided into 24 books. The consensus is that it wasn’t until around the 2nd century BCE. The Tanakh was first compiled by the Anshei Knesset HaGedolah, the “Men of the Great Assembly”, before this. Although we saw above that the status of a couple of books was still in debate, the overall structure of the Tanakh was set by the 2nd century BCE, and it was around that same time that the Tanakh was firstly translated into Greek.

Scholars generally like to point out how much the Jewish Sages adopted from the Greeks, yet they forget how much more was adopted by the Greeks from the Jews! This was well-known in ancient times, too. The 2nd century CE philosopher Numenius of Apamea famously admitted “What is Plato if not Moses speaking Greek?” Perhaps more than any other historian, Samuel Kurinsky shows in great depth the forgotten (and often deliberately buried) impact that the Jews had on the ancient world, including the Greek world. To offer just one example, he writes of the great Pythagoras, among the most famous of Greek philosophers:

Josephus quotes from a book by Hermippus of Smyrna in which Hermippus baldly stated that Pythagoras had plagiarized Thracian and Jewish concepts, accusing Pythagoras of the “imitation of the doctrines of the Jews and Thracians, which he transferred to his own philosophy.” Josephus then adds a pointed emphasis of his own: “For it is truly affirmed of this Pythagoras, that he took a great many of the laws of the Jews into his own philosophy.” (The Eight Day, pg. 290)

Kurinsky then refers to the ancient works of Hecataeus of Abdera, a 4th century BCE Greek historian who described the Exodus, and the leadership of Moses, “famed for his wisdom and valor”. Hecataeus goes on to state that the founders of Greece, the heroes Cadmus and Danaeus, were also part of the Israelite Exodus from Egypt! Kurinsky concludes:

Hecateus thus places the purported founder of the Hellenic culture as emerging from within a Judaic matrix. Whether Cadmus and Danaeus were fictional characters or not, they symbolize the process by which fundamental Judaic precepts arrived on the Greek scene.

Therefore, it is just as likely that the Greeks organized their Homer into 24 books to mimic the Jews’ 24 books of the Tanakh! The only good argument in favour of the Greeks doing it first is that by the end of the 4th century BCE, the Greek alphabet had been reduced to its current 24 letters. So, Homer was divided into 24 parts, one for each letter of the Greek alphabet. Maybe this is why Josephus speaks of the Tanakh in 22 parts, one for each letter of the Hebrew alphabet.

Repairing the Jewish World

A mausoleum in Yavneh believed to be the tomb of Rabban Gamliel II.

So how did 22 books of Tanakh become 24? One possible answer might lie with Rabban Gamliel II, a contemporary of Josephus. The Talmud (Bava Kamma 83a) states that the house of Rabban Gamliel was filled with 1000 students, 500 of whom studied Torah, and 500 of whom studied Greek wisdom. It seems Rabban Gamliel presided over a massive and important academy where scholars poured over these texts 24 hours of a day—half of them studying and discussing the 24 books of Homer, and half of them studying and discussing the 24 books of Tanakh. It isn’t difficult to imagine the two halves of Rabban Gamliel’s school dividing their work into an equal number of textbooks.

Rabban Gamliel lived through the destruction of the Second Temple. He was the first president of the Sanhedrin once it moved to Yavneh at the conclusion of the Great War with Rome. And this leads us to one final suggestion as to why the Sages grouped the Tanakh into 24 books.

The Talmud (Yerushalmi, Sanhedrin 53b) states: “The Jews were not exiled until they had divided into 24 sects.” As is well-known, the destruction of the Second Temple was decreed in Heaven because of sinat hinam, baseless hatred and divisiveness among the Jews. The antidote is ahavat hinam, love and unity among all Jews. Achieving this begins with the individual. Each person needs to refine themselves to the highest degree in order to love their fellow. And refinement is impossible without the Torah. As the Midrash states, the Torah and mitzvot were given in order to refine us (Beresheet Rabbah 44:1). And therefore, the antidote for Jewish divisiveness—symbolized by the number 24—is study and practice of the 24 books of the Tanakh.

Eye-Openers from the Book of Jubilees

This week’s parasha, Behar, begins with the command to observe shemitah, the Sabbatical year, and to proclaim a yovel, “Jubilee”, on the 50th year, after seven such cycles. The 50th year is a particularly special one, where “freedom shall be proclaimed”, slaves are freed, and all property returns to their ancestral owners. This is one of several incredible mitzvot which demonstrate the Torah’s strong emphasis on socio-economic equality and justice.

‘Jubilee Year’ by Yoram Raanan

In the ancient Jewish world, the Jubilee was an important milestone for tracking the passage of time. For example, the Talmud (Arakhin 12b) calculates how long each Temple stood in terms of the number of Sabbaticals and Jubilees elapsed, and that there were exactly 17 Jubilees between Israel’s entry into the Holy Land and their exile by the Babylonians. In fact, there is an entire book, known as Jubilees, written some time in the Second Temple era which divides the early history of Israel and the world into segments of Jubilees. This intriguing text is one of the most controversial books of that era.

It is unknown who wrote Jubilees, but it itself claims to be a revelation given to Moses by the angels upon Mt. Sinai. Moses is the subject of the book, the “you” to whom the angels are speaking. It presents a comprehensive history from Creation until the given of the Torah on Mt. Sinai, organized into 50 Jubilees. The book holds that a Jubilee year, the fiftieth year, is also the first year of the next shemitah cycle. This means that a complete cycle is not 50 years, but 49 years. That’s precisely the debate in the Talmud page cited above. The Sages question whether the Jubilee year is the first year of the next shemitah or not. Rabbi Yehuda insists that it does, which is just one example of the Book of Jubilees overlapping with traditional Judaism.

Having said that, our Sages did not include Jubilees in the Tanakh. Although it reads very much like a Biblical book, it was excluded from the canon. This was not the case among Ethiopian Jews, who surprisingly did include Jubilees in their Tanakh! The same is true for the Ethiopian Orthodox Church. Many ancient Christian scholars referenced Jubilees, too, while modern scholars have shown that Jubilees was an important book for the Maccabees. The Hasmonean dynasty that followed made extensive use of it, as did the priests of the late Second Temple era. Among the Dead Sea Scrolls, Jubilees is one of the most prevalent texts, more than all other books of ‘Nakh except Psalms and Isaiah. All of this proves that the Book of Jubilees was of great significance in olden days, and greatly influenced Judaism (and Christianity). Intriguingly, some scholars have shown that Jubilees had an even greater impact on Islam, and much of the Quran was clearly inspired by it. (See the work of Jan van Reeth for more.)

In traditional Jewish texts, too, especially in Midrash and Kabbalah, there are numerous teachings which are also found in Jubilees. In fact, Jubilees may be the earliest known written source for some foundational points of Judaism today. For example, in chapter 7 we see the first description of God giving a set of laws to Noah. A careful count shows there are seven. The Torah does not explicitly say anything about a code of law given to Noah, but Jewish tradition of course speaks of seven “Noahide” laws.

In Jubilees, these laws are: 1) be just and righteous, 2) dress modestly, 3) bless the Creator, 4) honour parents, 5) love your fellow, 6) abstain from sexual sins, plus 7) the prohibition of eating the limb of a live animal which was relayed a bit earlier in the text. In the Talmud (Sanhedrin 56a-b), the Noahide laws are: 1) establish courts of law, 2) bless the Creator, 3) not to worship idols, 4) abstain from sexual sins, 5) not to murder, 6) not to steal, and 7) not to eat the limb of a live animal.

The first law in Jubilees and the Talmud is one and the same: being just implies having a justice system, ie. establishing courts of law. The second in the Talmud is phrased as “blessing Hashem”, just like the third in Jubilees, but is taken to mean not to curse Hashem, since we don’t expect gentiles to know the Hebrew blessings. In any case, it is the same law. Not to engage in sexual sins and not to consume the limb of a live animal are the same. All in all, four of the seven are identical, and there are some parallels between the other three.

Another idea that finds its earliest expression in Jubilees is the concept of a messianic “millennium” (23:18-29). After a series of great travails, the world will enter an idyllic age that lasts one thousand years, with no evil and Satan destroyed. This is similar to descriptions in the Talmud (see, for instance, Sanhedrin 97a).

A final example: Jubilees states that God created seven things on the First Day: Heaven and Earth, water, spirits, darkness and light, and the abyss (tehom, as in Genesis 1:2). This is essentially identical to the Midrash (Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer, ch. 3), which says eight things were created on the First Day: Heaven and Earth, water, the Divine Spirit, darkness and light, and tohu v’vohu (also in Genesis 1:2), which can be seen as two parts of the tehom.

The Book of Jubilees presents many more fascinating details. Although not officially accepted in the Jewish canon, we see that it does contain a great deal of accurate information that is also in accepted Jewish texts. This makes it a potentially very useful tool to shed light on some of the big mysteries in Judaism. Indeed, we have referenced Jubilees many times in the past (such as here on Esau and Rome, and here on the guardian angels, among others). What follows is a list of some of the most intriguing and perhaps controversial teachings from the Book of Jubilees.

Adam and Eve in Elda

We mentioned in the past how Jubilees (3:8) states that Eve was made a week after Adam, and that Adam only entered the Garden of Eden forty days after his creation, and Eve after eighty days. We go on to read that Adam and Eve actually spent seven whole years in the Garden, and the Serpent came to them on the 17th of Cheshvan (3:15-17). Although Rabbinic tradition is that Adam and Eve ate of the Fruit on the same day they were created, there is some sense in tying their Fall to the month of Cheshvan, which has no holidays and is referred to as Marcheshvan, “bitter Cheshvan”. It is interesting to note that the letters in “Cheshvan” (חשון) spell Nachash (נחש), “Serpent”.

In Jubilees, Adam and Eve do not have children until long after their expulsion from Eden, when they are living in a land called Elda (3:32). There is an explanation for why Adam died at 930 years old. God had decreed that Adam would die “on that very day” if he eats from the Tree of Knowledge (Genesis 2:17). Yet, we read how Adam goes on to live many years. Didn’t God say Adam would die on the selfsame day? Jubilees reminds us that a “day” for God is 1000 years for man (as we read in Psalm 90:4). So, when God said Adam would die on the same day, He meant a day for Himself, not Adam! This is why Adam didn’t live to 1000 years.

Enoch and the Fallen Angels

‘Michael Casts Out Rebel Angels’ by Gustav Doré

In the genealogy of Adam, the Torah briefly mentions Yared (Jared), son of Mehalalel and father of the great Enoch (Genesis 5:15). Jubilees explains that he was named Yared, meaning “descent”, because in his time angels descended to Earth. These angels are called ‘Irin—meaning “awake ones” in Hebrew and often translated according to the Aramaic “watchers”, also mentioned in Daniel 4:10-14. Jubilees says they were sent to “instruct the children of men”. However, some of these Watchers became rebellious and mated with human women. Their children were the giant Nephilim, and this is the meaning of Genesis 6:1-4. This notion is found in traditional Jewish texts as well, as we have briefly explored in the past here. It is explored in much more depth in another apocryphal work, the Book of Enoch.

Speaking of Enoch, Jubilees describes him as the first scholar in history. He was the first writer, and composed an entire history of the world until his day. He was also a great astronomer, and put together the first calendars. He may have been the first prophet, too, as he looked into the future all the way until Judgement Day. Enoch was the first to bring offerings to God on the Temple Mount in what would later become Jerusalem (4:25). His wife’s name was Edni, or Edna.

Jubilees then solves another mystery about Enoch: why did God “take him” up to Heaven while still relatively so young? (Genesis 5:24) Jubilees says God took Enoch to Heaven so that he could testify against the fallen Watchers. The result of this was God’s decree of the Great Flood, to exterminate the Watchers, the angel-human hybrids, and the giants, and to purify the world from the evil they had brought.

The Flood and the Calendar

When the Torah describes the Great Flood, it states that it began and concluded on the “second month”. The Sages debate whether this refers to the second month starting from Tishrei or from Nisan. Jubilees goes with the latter, and states that the Flood began and ended in the month of Iyar. It goes on to state that Noah offered up his sacrifices shortly after in Sivan, what would become the holiday of Shavuot. This is the day when God displayed the rainbow and made a new covenant with Noah, and all of mankind. It is therefore fitting that God would make a covenant with Israel and give them the Torah on that same day, centuries later.

This brings up the key point of contention between Jubilees and the Rabbinic tradition: Jubilees holds that the calendar should follow only the sun, and that a year should be exactly 52 weeks of seven days. (Presumably there would be some kind of leap year every so often since that makes only 364 days.) This means that each holiday would fall on the same day every year. Shavuot is always on the 15th of Sivan, counting fifty days from the day after the first Shabbat following Pesach, since the Torah literally states to start Sefirat haOmer mimacharat haShabbat. (Our Sages explain that since the Torah describes Pesach as a Shabbat as well, we count the Omer from the day following the first day of Pesach. Therefore, Shavuot is on the 6th of Sivan.)

Jubilees explains its calendar system in Chapter 6, and it is certainly not without flaws. In fact, there are some blatant contradictions, and a lack of knowledge of the Rabbinic calendar system and the the leap year having a 13th month. It clearly reflects the great debate taking place at the end of the Second Temple era between Jews who followed a lunar-solar calendar and those that followed a strictly solar one. Much has been written about this by secular and religious scholars alike, and one who studies these sources will conclude that the Rabbinic method is undoubtedly better.

I believe that the primary reason why Jewish tradition never accepted Jubilees as a holy work is because of the calendar issue. The fact that Ethiopian Jewry had included it in their Tanakh is either because they split from the mainstream Jewish world before the end of the Second Temple era, or because they were influenced by the Ethiopian Orthodox Church.

Building Cities

Jubilees continues (in chapter 7) to state that after being cursed and banished by Noah, Ham went out and built a great city. When his brother Yefet saw it, he also left to build a great city of his own. Only Shem stayed with his father Noah, and the two built a city as well. Over time, these cities started warring with each other. Noah called in his sons and rebuked them, commanding them to keep additional laws, primarily not to murder. Along with this came a set of laws later to be found in the Torah, including not to consume the blood of animals and to bury it in earth, and not to eat the fruit of a tree in its first three years.

‘Noah Cursing Canaan’ by Gustav Doré

Later, Noah divides up the Earth for his sons and their clans. They take a draw, and Shem wins the best part—all the lands from the Nile to the Pacific. Ham drew next and got everything to the west and south of that, ie. Africa. Yefet got the last part: Europe, and the lands to its east. Jubilees summarizes by saying that Yefet got the cold lands, Ham got the hot lands (Ham literally means “hot”), and Shem got the temperate lands (8:30). Later, we are told how Canaan, a son of Ham, came out of Africa (where he belonged) and stole the Holy Land (10:29). For breaking the peace treaty and encroaching on land that didn’t belong to him, he was cursed by the rest of the family. This justifies Israel’s future re-conquest of the Holy Land, as it never belonged to Canaan to begin with. The land belongs to Israel, the descendants of Shem (or “Sem” in English, hence the modern term anti-Semite).

Abraham Celebrates Sukkot

Jubilees reveals some interesting details about Abraham, some of which we have explored in the past here. It states that Abraham separated from his idolatrous family when he was 14 years old. He initially became famous not for being a monotheist, but for inventing a new kind of plow and a device that prevented birds from eating farmers’ seeds. Abraham is later able to convince many to abandon idolatry, including his father Terach. He later sets his father’s idols on fire, and his brother Haran jumps in to save them, perishing in the flames (12:14). This is an interesting spin on the famous Midrashic account where Haran dies in the pyre that Nimrod had set up for Abraham.

Jubilees informs us that God revealed the holy Hebrew tongue to Abraham, after it had been hidden during the Great Dispersion following the Tower of Babel (12:25). We are given some chronological details, including Abraham’s age when he married Sarah (49), and the length of time he spent living in Egypt (5 years). We then read how, like Noah, Abraham also commemorated Shavuot, and with him, too, there was a covenant involved.

According to Jubilees, God commanded Abraham to circumcise himself and his household on Shavuot! Abraham did so that same day, forging a covenant with God. Thus, we now have three layers of meaning to Shavuot: it was the day that God made a brit with Noah, and the day that God made a brit with Abraham, and the day that God made a brit with Israel. And it wasn’t just Shavuot that Abraham celebrated.

Jubilees states that Abraham established the holiday of Sukkot because his family dwelled in booths in Beer Sheva. During this time, the angels that announced the birth of Isaac returned to tell Abraham he would have six more sons (Genesis 25:2), so Abraham established a seven-day festival for the seven sons he was blessed with, including Isaac (Jubilees 16:16-21). There is a great explanation here for why on Sukkot, in Temple times, they would bring 70 sacrifices for each of the 70 nations: Because Abraham is considered the father of all nations, and he instituted Sukkot in honour of those six extra sons who fathered those nations, it is fitting to bring sacrifices on their behalf. In addition, Jubilees describes Abraham as taking lulav and etrog on Sukkot, and making seven hakafot as we do today (16:30-31).

Finally, Abraham also instituted Pesach, the remaining holiday of the three Jewish pilgrimage festivals. This is the day when Abraham was tested at the Akedah. He made a seven-day festival to commemorate this because the entire journey took seven days: three days to get there (Genesis 22:4), one day on the mountain, and three days to get back.

A Warrior Jacob

We read in Jubilees that it was Abraham who commanded Rebecca to make sure that Jacob gets the blessing from his father (19:15). Abraham goes on to bless Jacob himself, and states that he loves his grandson more than any of his own children. More surprisingly, Jubilees paints a picture of Jacob as a brave warrior, and not someone who flees. In fact, Jacob is not afraid of Esau at all, and intends to kill him first, but Rebecca asks him not to (27:4). It ends up happening later anyway:

While Esau appears to repent towards the end of his life, his sons are even more evil than he is, and convince him to go to war with the sons of Jacob. They raise a huge army and mount an attack, but Jacob and his sons are ready. They crush the enemy, and Jacob himself shoots Esau in the chest with an arrow (38:2). Jacob buries his brother in Edom.

Jubilees gives Leah a happy ending. The Torah does not explicitly say what happened to Jacob’s wife, but Jubilees states that he did end up loving her after Rachel passed away. Only then did he see the perfection of Leah, and loved her “with all his heart and soul” (36:23). We know from the Torah that Jacob lived to the age of 147, which Jubilees points out is exactly three Jubilee cycles (45:13). It also notes how in the earliest of days, people could easily live 19 Jubilees, but today few can make it through even two of them (23:9).

In Egypt and in Time

Jubilees numbers the Egyptian victims of the Ten Plagues at 1 million. It states that this was a measure for measure punishment from God, since the Egyptians had drowned 1 million Israelite babies (48:14). Jubilees identifies the fourth plague, ‘arov—generally accepted in the Jewish tradition as a stampede of wild beasts—with a swarm of flies (48:5). The book’s history of events ends with the Divine Revelation at Sinai.

All in all, there are 50 chapters representing the 50 Jubilees that elapsed form Creation to the giving of the Torah on Sinai. This is a fitting conclusion, as we prepare for the holiday of Shavuot and the giving of the Torah by counting 50 days. It’s almost as if God counted His own 50 Jubilees before giving us His Torah. And 50 is an important number, as it represents the 50 constrictions and impurities with which the Israelites were constrained in Egypt, and had to extract themselves from, as well as the nun sha’arei Binah, the 50 Gates of Understanding which Moses ascended (Rosh Hashanah 21b).

Chronologically, however, putting the Torah’s revelation at 50 Jubilees from Creation is problematic. According to Jubilees, Israel entered the Holy Land at the end of 50 Jubilees, meaning 2450 years. They therefore received the Torah in the year 2410. The traditional Jewish dating for the giving of the Torah, based on precise calculations of dates in the Tanakh, puts it at the year 2448. While this is a minor discrepancy, such temporal contradictions (including Jubilee’s vastly different dating for the Flood and the Tower of Babel) is probably another reason why Jubilees never made it into the official Jewish canon. It is a most fascinating book nonetheless.

Make your Shavuot night-learning meaningful with the Arizal’s ‘Tikkun Leil Shavuot’, a mystical Torah-study guide, now in English and Hebrew, with commentary.