Tag Archives: Ashkenazi and Sephardi

Ovadiah’s Vision of October 7

The Haftarah for this week’s parasha, Vayishlach, is the entire book of Ovadiah. This is the shortest book in Tanakh, just one chapter of 21 verses. The entire text is a prophecy regarding what will happen to Edom. The Zohar (I, 171a) explains that Ovadiah alone was able to foresee what exactly will happen to Edom in the distance future because he was himself a convert from Edom! There is a bit of a debate whether this Ovadiah is the same as the Ovadiah that assisted Eliyahu in I Kings 18. Recall that the latter Ovadiah was a servant in the palace of the wicked King Ahab and his evil wife Jezebel: “When Jezebel was killing off the prophets of God, Ovadiah had taken a hundred prophets and hidden them, fifty to a cave, and provided them with food and drink.” (I Kings 18:4) The Talmud teaches us that for this incredible act of kindness and bravery, Ovadiah was himself blessed with the gift of prophecy (Sanhedrin 39b). That said, it is possible the two Ovadiahs were distinct individuals (or reincarnations of the same soul, in two different bodies). In fact, there are at least a dozen people across the Tanakh named “Ovadiah”!

Petra, in today’s Jordan

Ovadiah’s prophecy to Edom begins by promising its destruction: “I will make you least among nations, you shall be most despised.” (1:2) What did the Edomites do to deserve this? “Your arrogant heart has seduced you, you who dwell in clefts of the rock, in your lofty abode. You think in your heart: ‘Who can pull me down to earth?’” (1:3) The main Edomite stronghold in ancient times is what is today called Petra, the famous rock outcropping on the east side of the Jordan River. The Edomites believed themselves to be safe in their Petra fortress, and they grew arrogant, and then joined the Babylonians in attacking Jerusalem:

For the outrage against your brother Jacob, disgrace shall engulf you, and you shall perish forever. On that day when you stood aloof, when aliens carried off his goods, when foreigners entered his gates and cast lots for Jerusalem, you were as one of them. How could you gaze with glee on your brother that day, on his day of calamity! How could you gloat over the people of Judah on that day of ruin! How could you loudly jeer on a day of anguish! (1:10-12)

This is echoed in Psalm 137:7, which describes the tragic destruction of Jerusalem at the hands of the Babylonians, and says: “Remember, Hashem, against the Edomites the day of Jerusalem’s fall; how they cried ‘Strip her, strip her to her very foundations!’” The Edomite cruelly went along with the Babylonian catastrophe, the destruction of the Holy Temple, and the exile of the Judeans. And for that, God promised that they should “perish forever”. When did this happen?

The Hasmoneans, of Maccabee fame, conquered Edom (by then called Idumea) during the reign of King Yochanan Hyrcanus (r. 134-104 BCE, probably the same person called Yochanan Kohen Gadol in the Talmud—more in his identity here). The Romans later absorbed Idumea into their own empire, and in 6 CE incorporated it into the province of Judea. It was then that Edom completely ceased to exist as its own entity—Ovadiah’s prophecy was finally fulfilled. Henceforth, in rabbinic texts, “Edom” was instead used as a code word for the Roman Empire (to understand why, see the second part of the recent ‘Understanding Edom’ series, and ‘How Esau Became Rome’ in Volume Two of Garments of Light).

That said, we know that the Tanakh often presents us with “double-level” prophecies, to be fulfilled in those contemporary days of the past, as well as in the far future. After all, at its core the Tanakh is not a historical text, but a prophetic one. It has relevance not just to the past, but for the present and future, too. We study Tanakh to better understand ourselves and our souls, and to understand the world around us. The Torah is a living text, and we view the world through the lens of Torah. Thus, Ovadiah’s prophecy was not just for the past, fulfilled two millennia ago, but also for the far future, for the End of Days, and we can use it to better understand our current reality.

The Evolution of Edom & Rome

The key to understanding Ovadiah’s End Times vision is recognizing the identity of Edom. In Jewish texts, Edom is always used in reference to the Roman Empire. The original Roman Empire collapsed in 476 CE with the sack of Rome by the Germanic king Odoacer. However, the Roman Empire had previously been split into Western and Eastern halves. The West half was centered in Rome, while the Eastern half was centered in Constantinople. The Eastern half was not overrun by barbarians, and continued to exist—referred to today as the “Byzantine Empire”. Henceforth, its illustrious capital Constantinople was seen as the new, “second” Rome.

Division of the Roman Empire in 395 CE

In 1453 CE, the Ottomans conquered Constantinople, turning it into Istanbul. As the city became Islamified, the Orthodox Christian establishment fled—many of them to Moscow. They designated Moscow as the new, and “third” Rome. Henceforth, the leader of Russia was no longer called a “duke”, but rather czar, literally “caesar”. Russia adopted the Roman eagle as its symbol, and the red Edomite colours. This continued all the way through to the Red Army of the USSR, with its red flag and its epicentre at Red Square in Moscow. And so, although “Edom” certainly refers to the entire Western and Christian world, the leading oppressor of Edom is referred to more specifically as the “Third Rome”.

Indeed, we find that Russia and the USSR have been the longest and most consistent oppressor of Israel for centuries. Whether it’s the Pale of Settlement, the Cantonist Laws (that forcibly conscripted Jewish children to the Russian Army for decades of service), the pogroms, or the gulags; the USSR’s role in creating the “Palestinian” movement and training the PLO, or the KGB’s infiltration of the Israeli Knesset (discussed in this class), or Russia today supporting Hamas and Hezbollah (neither of which is designated a terrorist organization by Russia, unlike by nearly all Western countries). It was also in Russia that the infamous Protocols of the Elders of Zion was produced, inspiring generation after generation of antisemites and Jew-murderers.

So, while there may still be some debate in Jewish circles regarding who exactly is the “Third Rome” of the world today, it actually seems quite clear that all signs point to Moscow. Amazingly, the Talmud (Sanhedrin 98a) predicted that there would be three Romes, but not a fourth, and that Mashiach would come after the fall of the Third Rome. As explored in the past (in an essay here, and in the three-part video series on “Third Rome”), the fall of the Soviet Union in 1989 (or 5750) corresponded perfectly to the final possible starting point of the Ikvot haMashiach, the “End of Days” era leading up to the Messianic Age. With this in mind, we can understand Ovadiah’s prophecy and how it relates to today’s events.

Hamas, Hezbollah, Houthis

Ovadiah 1:3 accuses Edom of becoming arrogant, and feeling safe in their “lofty abode”. This could certainly apply to Russia, which has in recent years been arrogantly trying to conquer (or reconquer) neighbouring lands in Georgia, Crimea, and Ukraine. Perhaps the Russian regime feels safe in their vast and cold northern abode, knowing full well that no one has been able to defeat them in the past, not even the massive, powerful armies of Napoleon or Hitler. So, Russia arrogantly went to war with Ukraine, and thought it would be a quick “special operation”. Instead, it has turned into a full-blown proxy war against NATO, and Russia has suffered horrendous losses. They are now relying partly on cheaply-made Iranian drones and missiles, and on thousands of North Korean mercenaries who have not been able to help very much either. At the same time, support from allies like China and Belarus has been underwhelming. Ovadiah describes this all very well:

How thoroughly rifled is Esau, how ransacked his hoards! All your allies turned you back at the frontier; your own confederates have duped and overcome you; [those who ate] your bread have planted snares under you. He is bereft of understanding. (v. 6-7)

One of the Edomite allies that Ovadiah refers to are the “warriors of Teiman”, and Ovadiah says they will “lose heart” and faulter: v’hatu giborekha teiman! (v. 9) It is interesting to point out that one of the so-called 3 H’s that Russia supports is the Houthis of Yemen, ie. Teiman (the other two are Hamas and Hezbollah). Ovadiah even gives a cryptic allusion to this in saying those murderers in Teiman will be hatu—Houthis! More incredibly, the very next verse mentions Hamas: “For the violence against your brother Jacob, disgrace shall engulf you, and you shall perish forever.” (v. 10) The word for “violence” here, of course, is hamas. Ovadiah goes on to accuse Edom of supporting those who came against Israel:

On that day when you stood aloof, when aliens carried off his goods, when foreigners entered his gates and cast lots for Jerusalem, you were as one of them. How could you gaze with glee on your brother that day, on his day of calamity! How could you gloat over the people of Judah on that day of ruin! How could you loudly jeer on a day of anguish! How could you enter the gate of My people on its day of disaster, gaze in glee with the others on its misfortune on its day of disaster, and lay hands on its wealth on its day of disaster! (v. 12-14)

Edom stood by while Israel was being slaughtered. The terrorists came to “cast lots for Jerusalem”. Recall that the name Hamas chose for their day of terror on October 7 was “Al-Aqsa Flood”—they believed they were coming to “liberate” Al-Aqsa, ie. Jerusalem. Ovadiah says Edom played a role in this because they were concerned for their own wealth. Indeed, many have pointed out that Russia had the most to gain from October 7: In the days leading up to it, all the talk in the media was about Israel’s impending peace deal with Saudi Arabia—which would include oil and gas pipelines through Israel to Europe that would undermine Russia’s own supply to Europe (Russia’s main source of wealth). Russia had to stop the deal to protect its oil and gas riches. It worked, as October 7 quashed the Israel-Saudi deal.

At the same time, Russia wanted to get the world off its back for Ukraine, and this too happened post-October 7, with the world quickly forgetting about Ukraine and turning all of its attention to Gaza. Funding and donations for Ukraine subsequently dropped in dramatic fashion, the world’s money now channeled to Gaza instead. (Ukrainian officials complained greatly about this, to deaf ears!) For Russia, October 7 was a win-win. And it also just happened to be Putin’s birthday!

Ovadiah concludes his prophecy by relaying God’s promise that the wicked Edomite regime would be destroyed, and would never again bother Israel. The flame of Israel will be rekindled, “the House of Jacob shall be fire, and the House of Joseph flame, and the House of Esau shall be straw…” (v. 18) and we will see the eventual positive outcome of this tragic war, with Israel reclaiming “the Negev and Mount Esau as well, the Shephelah and Philistia. They shall possess the Ephraimite country and the district of Samaria, and Benjamin along with Gilead.” Remember that Philistia is Gaza, and the Ephraimite country, Samaria, and Benjamin makes up most of the “West Bank”, while Gilead refers to the general area around the Golan Heights. We are seeing this happening right before our eyes now.

Finally, “the exile of the Children of Israel, that have gone to be kna’anim as far as Tzarfat, and the Jerusalemite exile as far as Sepharad, shall possess the towns of the Negev.” (v. 20) In the times of Ovadiah, Tzarfat and Sepharad referred to places north of Israel, in what is today Lebanon and Turkey. Over time, just as Edom became the Roman Empire, Tzarfat became France and Sephard became Spain. Interestingly, when looking back at Jewish texts from around 1000 years ago, we find that there is mention of Jewish communities distinct from Ashkenazi and Sephardi, called Tzarfati Jews and Kna’ani Jews. The Tzarfati Jews are a bit better known because of great figures like Rashi, but we hear very little of the Kna’ani Jews. Who were they?

“Kna’ani” was the label for those Jews living in Eastern Europe, among Slavic peoples. Intriguingly, they were called Kna’ani because in Biblical parlance “Canaanite” was synonymous with being a “slave” (since Canaan was cursed with slavery). The Slavic peoples of Eastern Europe were a major source of slaves in Roman and Medieval times; in fact, the root of the word “slave” is slav! This is why Jews living among the Slavs were nicknamed “Kna’ani”. Over time, the Kna’ani Jewish community fused together with the Ashkenazi community originally rooted in Germany, and most of the Tzarfati community in France (while many in southern France fused with their nearby Sephardis). Meanwhile, following the Spanish Expulsion the Sephardi community fused together with North African and Mizrachi communities. Thus, in effect, when Ovadiah speaks of Kna’ani, Tzarfati, and Sephardi Judeans in exile, he is really referring to all the major groups of Jews today.

Very soon, all Jews still in exile will return to a stronger and larger and more prosperous Israel, “For liberators shall march up on Mount Zion to wreak judgment on Mount Esau; and dominion shall be God’s.” (v. 21) May it come speedily and in our days.

Shabbat Shalom!

How Sephardic Jews Shaped the World

In this class, we embark on a one-thousand year journey to uncover how Sephardic Jews transformed the world and played an instrumental role in major global movements, revolutionary scientific discoveries, and even the establishment of the United States of America!

We explore how Sephardic Jewish communities differ from Ashkenazi Jewish communities, and which unique trends and thoughts characterized Sephardic Judaism throughout history.

Please see also ‘What Does It Really Mean to be Sephardi?’

For the class about Feminism and Judaism that was referred to, see here.

On the Rambam and the Karaites, see here.

On the Donmeh and the Father of Modern Turkey, see here.

For more on the Zohar’s prophecy of Seven Continents, see here.

For more on the Zohar’s prophecy of the special year 1648, see here.

For short bios on the great figures discussed in this class:

Avraham bar Chiya haNasi
Ibn Ezra
Maimonides
Abraham Zacuto
Chaim Vital
Moshe Chaim Luzzatto
Yehuda Alkali
Moses Montefiore

Mourning and Music in the Omer

As we count each day during Sefirat haOmer in the weeks between Pesach and Shavuot, we are conscious of the 24,000 slain students of Rabbi Akiva and observe a period of mourning. It is fitting to think of those victims as we ourselves focus on personal development and self-improvement during this time, in preparation for the Sinai Revelation on Shavuot—which didn’t just take place once some three millennia ago, but happens anew each year. Having said that, it is interesting that we seemingly have so many days of mourning to commemorate the tragedy, yet we don’t have such prolonged mourning for other terrible catastrophes in Jewish history (some of which are arguably much worse). Where did this extended mourning period come from?

If we look in our legal texts, we surprisingly find very little. The Talmud says nothing about mourning in these days. It is brought down that some of the Geonim (c. 600-1000 CE) may have mentioned mourning during this period, and that there was a custom not to hold weddings between Pesach and Shavuot (see, for instance, the collection of Geonic responsa published in 1802 under the title Sha’arei Teshuvah, #278). It is strange then that the Rambam (Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, 1138-1204), who carefully codified the Talmud and the entire corpus of Jewish law up to that point (including the works of the Geonim!) makes no mention of mourning during the Omer in his monumental Mishneh Torah. The Rambam was Sephardic so one might argue that he may have omitted a custom that developed in Ashkenaz first. Yet, the Machzor Vitry, composed by Rashi’s disciple Rabbi Simchah of Vitry (in northern France) in the 11th century, fails to mention anything about mourning during the Omer either! Neither is it mentioned by great Rishonim like the Rif (Rabbi Isaac Alfasi, 1013-1103) or the Rosh (Rabbeinu Asher, c. 1250-1327).

Timeline of Rabbinic history and halakhic eras

Its first notable mention appears to be the Arba’ah Turim of Rabbi Yakov ben Asher (the “Ba’al haTurim”, 1270-1340), son of the Rosh, who was Ashkenazi but lived in Spain. In Orach Chaim 493, he says it is customary not to have weddings during the Omer, though engagements are permitted. He then states that in some places it is also customary not to take haircuts. No mention is made of abstaining from music, avoiding reciting shehecheyanu, or any other mourning rituals. Interestingly, other sources from this time period (like Sefer Asufot) argue that the mourning period arose not because of Rabbi Akiva’s students, but because of the devastation of the Crusades on Ashkenazi communities! Later sources would combine both reasons, and explain that the mourning is both for Rabbi Akiva’s students and for the Crusades.

Massacres of Jewish communities around the time of the First Crusade (1096-1102)

It should be noted that there is an alternate, more mystical reason for mourning (or at least, for avoiding festivities) during the Omer: the Mishnah brings an opinion that the wicked in Gehinnom are judged specifically between Pesach and Shavuot (Eduyot 2:10). In truth, this is only a singular opinion of one Sage, contrasting an earlier statement that judgement in Gehinnom lasts a full 12 months. It is possible to reconcile the two opinions by saying that following a person’s passing, their soul is judged for up to 12 months, and then if the verdict is for the person to remain in Gehinnom, they are subsequently rejudged each year between Pesach and Shavuot. Since we know that the deaths of Rabbi Akiva’s students actually ended on Lag b’Omer and did not extend all the way to Shavuot (hence the mourning stops on Lag b’Omer), we might apply that same rule to the judgement in Gehinnom as well. In this case, we have yet another mystical reason for lighting bonfires on Lag b’Omer, as these would be appropriately symbolic of the “flames” of Gehinnom.

The above somewhat contradicts the notion that judgements take place specifically on Rosh Hashanah. We assume that all souls, both Jewish and non-Jewish, living and deceased, are judged on this day. Interestingly, the Arba’ah Turim (in Orach Chaim 581) explains that Jews customarily shave before Rosh Hashanah because, unlike gentiles, we don’t grow out our beards in fear of judgement! We are certain that God will judge us favourably. This notion presents something of a problem for the idea of not shaving because of the judgement in Gehinnom.

Haircuts and Music

Continuing our journey through halakhic history, the next major law code was the Shulchan Arukh (which was really only a summary of the larger Beit Yosef). Rabbi Yosef Karo (1488-1575) produced it by integrating the Mishneh Torah with the Arba’ah Turim, and the Rif, plus updating it with newer established customs, as well as the occasional Kabbalistic practices. It was meant to be a universal code of law, and something like the authoritative “last word”, satisfying the majority of opinions. In our times, Rav Ovadia Yosef famously argued that the Shulchan Arukh should be the supreme code of Jewish law, especially in the land of Israel where it always held primacy since its publication.

Regarding mourning during the Omer, the Shulchan Arukh again mentions only weddings and haircuts. It explains that, of course, the mourning ends on Lag b’Omer, and doesn’t extend all the way to Shavuot. The Rama (Rabbi Moshe Isserles, c. 1530-1572) adds in his gloss for Ashkenazim that some have the custom to allow haircuts until Rosh Chodesh Iyar, and only start the mourning period after this. That actually makes a great deal of sense, since we consider the entire month of Nisan to be a festive month, and we don’t recite tachanun at all throughout the month. This is stated clearly in Masekhet Sofrim 21:2-3, which also says that fasting in Nisan should be avoided (except for the firstborn before Pesach). For this reason, many religious authorities opposed the Zionists establishing Yom HaShoah—Israel’s Holocaust Memorial Day—in Nisan, because there shouldn’t be a mourning day within the festive month. It is therefore quite ironic that, at the same time, many religious authorities typically encourage mourning practices in the same Nisan days for the Omer!

It must be repeated that our ancient Sages did not actually institute such mourning, and it is a later custom. Rabbi David Bar-Hayim argues that the Sages did not institute mourning during the Omer because they understood we already have enough mourning days on the Jewish calendar, particularly on Tisha b’Av and the three weeks leading up to it. If we add several more weeks of mourning during the Omer, plus all the other fast days and sad days on the Jewish calendar, it can become quite depressing and psychologically unhealthy. Rabbi Bar-Hayim adds that while we may have a minhag to mourn during the Omer, it is certified halakhah to honour Shabbat and appear presentable and regal on the holy day, therefore it is entirely permitted to trim or get a haircut before Shabbat, even during the Omer.

For many today, the biggest question during the Omer is regarding listening to music. None of the ancient sources speak of abstaining from music, all the way up to the Shulchan Arukh, and beyond. So where did it come from? In his commentary on the Shulchan Arukh, the Magen Avraham (Rabbi Avraham Gombiner, c. 1635-1682) adds that dancing at parties during the Omer is forbidden. Based on this, Rabbi Yechiel Michel Epstein (1829–1908) argued in his Arukh haShulchan (first published in 1884) that if dancing is prohibited, then we must extend the prohibition to music as well, since it inevitably leads to dancing. This appears to be the first clear argument anywhere for avoiding music during the Omer. The position has been rejected by others, as there is no direct guaranteed leap from music to dancing. After all, many people listen to music just to relax, or while driving or cleaning, or to motivate themselves to work or exercise, and so on. For these reasons, some only prohibit live music, not recorded music.

Rav Soloveitchik argued that the Omer mourning should have a precedent from other mourning practices, like the shiva, shloshim, or the year-long mourning following the death of a parent. Since the Omer mourning is likened to the latter, the prohibition is only on going to parties or concerts, but not listening to music in private. His contemporaries, Rav Moshe Feinstein and Rav Ovadia Yosef, disagreed on this and prohibited all music during the Omer. (In the case of Rav Ovadia, this is somewhat inconsistent, since he always argued for the primacy of Shulchan Arukh, which makes no mention of abstaining from music! Nonetheless, it seems he was upholding a modern-day stringency, even if it isn’t mentioned in his go-to law code.)

To summarize, there is no doubt that forbidding weddings between Pesach and Lag b’Omer is based on a valid ancient custom that likely goes back as far as the Geonim. (Though some, even today, do permit and hold weddings up through Rosh Chodesh Iyar.) Abstaining from haircuts is a bit more recent, but still has a source going back some 700 years. It should be remembered that many authorities starting from the Rishonim and up to the present allow haircuts and trimming (or even shaving) to stay presentable, especially in honour of Shabbat, or if necessary for work purposes. This is particularly true if a person is accustomed to trimming or shaving daily.

Finally, regarding music, there is no ancient source for the prohibition. While it is true that one should ideally avoid parties and concerts during the Omer, not listening to music in private is a very recent stringency, perhaps just over a century old. For those who simply cannot go so long without music, there is definitely room to permit it. Either way, there is no need to worry about passively hearing background music in the elevator or supermarket, nor any concern for those who make a living working in the music industry. Nor should a person who has a birthday during the Omer feel condemned to never be able to have a festive birthday party in their life! (See also ‘Should Jews Celebrate Birthdays?’) Lastly, we shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that, despite the seriousness, the Sefirat haOmer period is simultaneously a time of great joy. The Ramban (Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, 1194-1270)—who also said nothing about mourning during this time—described the whole period from Pesach to Shavuot as chol hamoed, like the intermediate days of a festival (see his comments on Leviticus 23:36). Sefirat haOmer is indeed a festive, positive, and happy time, especially because we have the opportunity to do a most-precious Torah mitzvah of counting the Omer, while eagerly anticipating a new year of Torah learning ahead starting on Shavuot.

Happy counting! 

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