Tag Archives: Final Redemption

The Evolution of Hebrew and the Death of “Jewish” Languages

‘Joseph Makes Himself Known to His Brethren’ by Gustav Doré

In this week’s parasha, Vayigash, we read how Joseph finally reveals himself to the sons of Israel in Egypt, and they are shocked and stupefied to behold their long-lost brother. How exactly it is that Joseph reveals himself is not clear. Was he wearing a mask or Egyptian headdress that he took off? Was it simply his declaration “I am Joseph, is my father still alive?” (Genesis 45:3) Did he have to show them his brit milah to prove it, as Rashi comments on the next verse? Or was it the fact that he now switched to speak Hebrew? Previously, he had spoken in Egyptian and there was a “translator” between them (42:23)—identified as Joseph’s son Menashe. Now Joseph revealed that he himself speaks Hebrew—a language only spoken by Jacob’s household and a select few. Rashi says this, too, later on 45:12, when the brothers are still stunned after Joseph’s speech. Joseph tells his brothers to see “the mouth that is speaking to you”. This is what ultimately convinces them that it is really Joseph. Such is the power of Hebrew in that it is a central identifying marker of a true son of Israel.

In fact, Hebrew was our language from the very beginning—Abraham himself spoke Hebrew and passed it down to Isaac, and then to Jacob and his family. The ancient Book of Jubilees describes how the divine language was lost following the Tower of Babel, when God confounded the tongues of the people, and He only restored it by teaching it directly to Abraham (Jubilees 12:25, or 12:31 in other versions). It goes on to say that Hashem even provided Abraham with ancient mystical Hebrew scrolls for him to learn from. The family continued to speak Hebrew, even throughout their servitude in Egypt. The Midrash (Lekach Tov on Ki Tavo) states that Israel was redeemed from Egypt in the merit of three things: “they did not change their clothing, their diet, or their language”, while a parallel Midrash (Vayikra Rabbah 32:5) says it was in the merit of four things: “they did not change their names, nor their language, and they did not speak lashon hara or engage in licentiousness”. The one thing common to both lists is that the Israelites preserved the Hebrew tongue. Such is the power of Hebrew in that its use hastens the Redemption!

That said, in our day and age, when we are so close to the Final Redemption, we must do everything we can to revert to using the divine Hebrew language as much as possible. Thankfully, this has already been greatly accelerated in the last two centuries by the Zionist push to revive Hebrew as the vernacular of the Jewish people, and making Hebrew the official language of the State of Israel. It is important to note that, contrary to popular belief, Hebrew was never a “dead” language, and Jews have always used it throughout history. Sephardic Jews in particular devoted a lot of time to studying the Hebrew language and writing Hebrew grammar books, as well as Hebrew poetry and piyyutim.

Statues of Ibn Gabirol in his hometown of Malaga, Spain, and in Caesarea, Israel

One such Sephardic Jew was Solomon ibn Gabirol (c. 1021-1070), who wrote a 400-verse book on the rules of Hebrew grammar when he was just 19 years old. He went on to write multiple renowned books of poetry, proverbs, and philosophy (in both Hebrew and Arabic). Today, there is a major busy street in Tel-Aviv called Ibn Gvirol named after him (where I was once lived as a child). Another key figure was the Ramchal (Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, 1707-1746), who put together a textbook on Hebrew language and grammar called Leshon Limmudim. He also wrote many poems and psalms in Hebrew, and even a Hebrew opera! The Ramchal was an inspiration not just to countless rabbis and mystics, but even to secular Jewish scholars and Haskalah writers, who often referred to him as “the father of modern Hebrew literature”.

Nonetheless, for much of the past 2500 years (until recently), Jews typically retained Hebrew as a religious language for prayers and holy texts, to be used in the beit knesset and beit midrash, and for correspondence between rabbis and merchants who came from different lands and needed a common language. The day-to-day vernacular was usually from whatever locale the Jews lived in. Two thousand years ago it was Aramaic and Greek; today it might be English, Russian, Spanish, or French. Along the way, Jews also developed their own dialects by fusing together local languages and adding in some Hebrew. The two most well-known are Ladino (among Sephardic Jews) and Yiddish (among Ashkenazi Jews). There are others, including my own community’s Bukharian, or the Juhuri of Kavkazi Jews.

Today, people often lament the decline of these “Jewish” languages. While it is true that it’s never a bad thing to know another language (and my knowledge of Bukharian is really helpful when I’m around Iranians or Afghans), the truth is that Jews have no need for these foreign tongues. Our language is Hebrew, and always has been, and we have to use Hebrew first and foremost. The focus should be on mastery of Hebrew, not any other language. If a Jew does not yet know Hebrew, he has no business learning another tongue! Only when a Jew can speak God’s language fluently should he move on to learn others. Considering how important the use of Hebrew is in ushering in the Redemption (as we see from ancient Egypt), the still-common Hasidic practice to raise children in Yiddish is counter-productive. At its core, Yiddish is just a blend of German and Russian (two peoples who have never treated us particularly well), so it makes little sense to insist on using it. Like other “Jewish” languages, it is a tongue of exile and oppression, of punishing galut. There is no doubt that every Jew should switch to Hebrew, the language of God, Torah, and geulah.

The prophet Zephaniah told us this long ago: “For then I will make the peoples pure of speech, so that they all invoke Hashem by name and render service with one accord… The remnant of Israel shall do no wrong and speak no falsehood; a false tongue shall not be in their mouths…” (3:9-13) If we are truly one nation, we should have one language, and any two Jews in the world should be able to converse freely in Hebrew. (Reminds me of a conversation I once had with a Hasidic Jew who only spoke Yiddish. He was born and raised in Israel, but his Hebrew was so poor and so accented I could barely understand him!) We all know well that if we want to see geulah, we need to have ahavat hinam and unite as the singular people we are meant to be. This is not possible if we can’t even speak the same language or understand each other.

It is worth noting here the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis, that the language we use directly influences the way we think, and how we see the world. A classic example is that Russian children tend to be better at recognizing different shades of blue compared to English children because the Russian language actually has two distinct words for shades of “blue” (sini and goluboy). Inuit peoples have many more words for different types of “snow”, making them better at understanding this weather phenomenon and its many variations. Based on the same line of reasoning, one could argue that since Hebrew has many different words for “God”, a Hebrew-speaker who knows these nuances would be much better at understanding God, too. Although there are scholars who reject the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis, one could make a strong case that children who are raised with a galut language will have a galut mindset, while those who are raised in Hebrew will have a more liberating, more Torah-true geulah mindset.

Finally, it is vital to dispel two common myths and counter-arguments to the common use of Hebrew. First, that Hebrew is “too holy” to use as a vernacular language, and should not be used for mundane conversations. This is silly, first because Hebrew was the common language of the Israelites for centuries. The Tanakh records the conversations of our forefathers and Biblical figures in Hebrew, whether for holy matters or mundane ones, during the performance of mitzvot or transgressions, for blessings and for curses, in political intrigue, adulterous affairs, military conquest, or even in describing idolatrous practices. King Solomon wrote Shir haShirim which doesn’t seem to speak of religious things at all and, at least on the surface, graphically depicts the deeply passionate love of a young couple.

Shir HaShirim would pave the way for later rabbis to write Hebrew love poetry, including the great Rabbi Yehuda haLevi (c. 1075-1141, most famous for his philosophical Kuzari). In addition to religious poetry, many others wrote secular Hebrew poetry, too, including Dunash ibn Labrat (c. 920-990) and both Moshe ibn Ezra (1055-1138) and Avraham ibn Ezra (1092-1167). Meanwhile, the great Kabbalah master Rabbi Itzchak Luria (1534-1572, “Arizal”) tried to always speak Hebrew, being especially careful with this on Shabbat, and only using the vernacular if necessary to explain something to others (See Sefer Toldot haAri). One could well argue that not only is Hebrew okay to use for day-to-day speech, it is actually a very good thing that will infuse some holiness into even the most mundane conversations!

The second myth to dispel is the argument that no one speaks “proper” Biblical Hebrew today, and Modern Hebrew is an “illegitimate” offshoot. In the Ultra-Orthodox world, it is common to hear that Hebrew and Lashon haKodesh are not the same thing. The main reason for this is, supposedly, that Modern Hebrew devised many new, non-Biblical words, and often used Aramaic, Arabic, or others as the foundation for these new terms. While this is true, it does not present a problem at all. Hebrew has always been a living and evolving language that borrowed from others. The Talmud (Sanhedrin 4b) goes so far as to say that even a mysterious Torah word like totafot, used to describe Tefillin in Exodus 13:16 and Deuteronomy 6:8, comes from two ancient “African” languages that mean “two and two”, to teach that Tefillin should have four sections.

The Torah names Aharon and Pinchas seem to mean nothing in Hebrew, but in ancient Egyptian aha-rw meant a “warrior lion” while Panahesy was a common Egyptian name meaning something like “bronze-skinned” or “Nubian”. The Talmud itself is in Aramaic, and is peppered with Greek words. Sanhedrin is the word for a Jewish supreme court, but comes from the Greek synedrion, “sitting together”. The Talmud explains that the now-Hebrew prosbul comes from the Greek pros bulei u’butei, “for the benefit of rich and poor” (Gittin 36b-37a). It uses the word pardes to refer to “the Heavens” in its account of four rabbis who ascended to the upper worlds (Chagigah 14b), giving rise to the English word “paradise”. Its earliest origin, though, is the ancient Persian-Avestan word for a park, paraideza, which made its way into one place in Tanakh (in Shir haShirim 4:13) as pardes, now the common Hebrew word for an “orchard”.

Another amazing example of the evolution of Hebrew is given by Rabbi Yitzchak Ginsburgh (see Breath of Life, pg. 72): the Talmud uses the Greek word androgynous to refer to a person with biologically indistinct gender—when it is not clear whether the person is a zakhar or nekevah, male or female, based on their anatomy. Rav Ginsburgh points out that, incredibly, the Hebrew gematria of “androgynous” (אנדרוגינוס) is 390, exactly equal to zakhar v’nekevah (זכר ונקבה). Of course, the word gematria itself, referring to Hebrew numerology, is of Greek origin!

So, the fact that Modern Hebrew has devised new words along the way, as necessary, even if based on other languages, is not problematic at all. This has always existed throughout the history of Israel, all the way back to the Torah itself. The reality is that society evolves, things change, and new words need to be coined. This happened in Biblical times, and in Talmudic times, and is continuing to happen today. Besides, many “Modern Hebrew” words are actually based on Biblical roots, including rakevet (רכבת) for a “train”, based on the Biblical rekhev (רכב) or merkava (מרכבה) for “chariot”; and chashmal (חשמל) for “electricity”, based on the lightning-like chashmal “electrum” described by the prophet Ezekiel in his opening chapter. (The modern chashmal was coined by Yehuda Leib Gordon [1830-1892], a child prodigy who reportedly knew the whole Tanakh and Talmud by heart. For more on the fascinating world of chashmal, see here.)

To conclude, Hebrew is the language of Hashem and the language of Creation, inseparable from Torah, from Judaism, and from the Jewish people. Hebrew has been our tongue for thousands of years, for both holy and secular purposes, and we need it now more than ever. It was the use of Hebrew that confirmed for the sons of Israel that the mysterious person in front of them was truly Joseph, teaching us that Hebrew speech is the mark of a true Israelite. It was the use of Hebrew that brought the people of Israel in Egypt the merit to be redeemed and saved. So too now, when we are awaiting the Final Redemption, it is in the merit of Hebrew, Hashem’s divine language, that we will get there.

Shabbat Shalom!

Secrets of the Jewish Calendar

Today we welcome the new month of Kislev. It is well-known that the months of the Hebrew year parallel the Tribes of Israel and the zodiacal constellations. According to Sefer Yetzirah, each month also embodies one of twelve fundamental aspects of humanity and life: sight, sound, smell, speech, taste, touch, action, motion, temper, joy, thought, and sleep (ראיה, שמיעה, ריחה, שיחה, לעיטה, תשמיש, מעשה, הלוך, רוגז, שחוק, הרהור, שינה). Each of these further corresponds to twelve main parts and organs of the human body, and actually emerges at their core from the twelve “elemental” letters of the Hebrew alphabet, as well as the twelve permutations of God’s Ineffable Name. Recall that Sefer Yetzirah divides up the alphabet into three categories: “mother” letters, “doubled” letters, and “elemental” or “simple” letters (for more on these, see here). Continue reading

The Three Oaths & the Three Gifts

“And it will be, when you come into the land which YHWH, your God, gives you for an inheritance, and you possess it and settle in it…” (Deuteronomy 26:1)

This week’s parasha, Ki Tavo, begins with the command for Israel to go to the Holy Land, possess it, inherit it, work the land, and then give thanks for its wonderful produce. The Torah is clear on the fact that the Jewish people belong in the Land of Israel. In fact, the Talmud (Ketubot 110b) states that a Jew who lives outside of Israel is likened to an atheist that doesn’t have a God:

תָּנוּ רַבָּנַן: לְעוֹלָם יָדוּר אָדָם בְּאֶרֶץ יִשְׂרָאֵל אֲפִילּוּ בְּעִיר שֶׁרוּבָּהּ גּוֹיִם, וְאַל יָדוּר בְּחוּצָה לָאָרֶץ וַאֲפִילּוּ בְּעִיר שֶׁרוּבָּהּ יִשְׂרָאֵל, שֶׁכׇּל הַדָּר בְּאֶרֶץ יִשְׂרָאֵל דּוֹמֶה כְּמִי שֶׁיֵּשׁ לוֹ אֱלוֹהַּ, וְכׇל הַדָּר בְּחוּצָה לָאָרֶץ דּוֹמֶה כְּמִי שֶׁאֵין לוֹ אֱלוֹהַּ. שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: ״לָתֵת לָכֶם אֶת אֶרֶץ כְּנַעַן לִהְיוֹת לָכֶם לֵאלֹהִים״

The Sages taught: A person should always reside in the Land of Israel, even in a city that is mostly populated by gentiles; and should not reside outside of Israel, even in a city that is mostly populated by Jews, because anyone who resides in Israel is considered as one who has a God, and anyone who resides outside of Israel is considered as one who does not have a God, as it is stated: “To give to you the land of Canaan, to be your God.” (Leviticus 25:38)

The Talmud then challenges this statement, arguing that it can’t be that living outside of Israel makes a Jew an atheist. So, it gives a better answer: “Anyone who lives outside of Israel is likened to an idolater!” At this point, we are presented with a story about how Rabbi Zeira really wanted to make aliyah, but his teacher Rav Yehuda disapproved. Rav Yehuda took the following verse quite literally: “They shall be taken to Babylonia and there they shall remain until the day that I recall them, said the Lord.” (Jeremiah 27:22) Rav Yehuda believed leaving Babylon for Israel without a clear sign from God was a transgression.

‘The Flight of the Prisoners’ by James Tissot, depicting the Jewish people’s exile after the destruction of the First Temple.

Of course, that verse in Jeremiah is speaking of the period between the First and Second Temples, and had no direct relevance to Rav Yehuda’s generation many centuries later. But this was not the approach that Rabbi Zeira took to refute his teacher’s position. Instead, he reminded Rav Yehuda that the previous verse in Jeremiah is “concerning the vessels that remain in the house of the Lord”. The whole thing is clearly talking about the Temple items, not about the Jewish people, who are always welcome in their own Promised Land.

Rav Yehuda changes course and rebuts with a different verse from Tanakh: “I adjure you [ishba’ati], O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and by the hinds of the field, that you not awaken nor stir up love, until it please.” (Song of Songs 2:7) He uses this as proof that Jews shouldn’t go back to Israel until it pleases God. Rabbi Zeira counters that this verse refers to an oath (shvu’a, based on the term ishba’ati) that the Jewish nation apparently took upon themselves when going into exile. There are actually three verses in Shir haShirim (2:7, 3:5, 8:4) that begin the exact same way, with the same ishba’ati word that implies an oath. Thus, there were three oaths that God adjured:

First, that the Jewish people should not return to Israel en masse, “like a wall”, through an organized political or social movement. Second, that the Jewish people should not rebel in exile against their gentile overlords. The third oath was that, in turn, the gentile nations would not oppress the Jews too much. In other words, Jews should be allowed to live in relative peace and safety among the gentiles, in exchange for not seeking to go back “like a wall” to the Holy Land. So, Rabbi Zeira believes that while large groups and mass movements of Jews should not make aliyah en masse, individuals and families could make aliyah to Israel if they wish. Rabbi Zeira thus argued that it was permissible for him to move to Israel.

Rav Yehuda didn’t give up, and countered that the phrasing of “not waken nor stir up” in the Shir haShirim verse implies both large groups and individuals. At this point, Rabbi Levi enters the fray and says that the extra language is for a different reason: each oath is actually two oaths, and there are a total of six oaths, not three! The extra three oaths are that Jewish scholars should not reveal when the End of Days and the Final Redemption would come; but that they should also not “distance” the Final Redemption and cause it to be postponed; and finally that Jews shouldn’t reveal “the secret” to the nations of the world. It is unclear what exactly this “secret” is. Rashi suggests it refers to the secrets of the divine Jewish calendar and intercalation of months (as does Yalkut Shimoni II, 986), or perhaps the deeper mystical secrets of the Torah. One might also read it simply as not revealing the secret time of the Redemption to anyone, Jew or gentile.

The Talmud then explains what is the meaning of the latter words in the Shir haShirim verse, “by the gazelles and by the hinds of the field.” Rabbi Elazar quotes God saying to the Jewish people: “If you fulfill the oath, it is good, and if not, I will abandon your flesh ‘like the gazelles and like the hinds of the field.’” In other words, if we don’t fulfil the oath, we will be left alone in the field, without any divine protection, presumably to be hunted down like gazelles. Then Rabbi Elazar adds one final statement before the Talmud moves on to a different discussion about burial: “Anyone who resides in the Land of Israel dwells without transgression…” So, what do we make of this puzzling passage?

Violating Oaths, Fulfilling Oaths

On the surface, the Talmud seems to be telling us that Rav Yehuda held that Jews shouldn’t seek to live in Israel until the coming of Mashiach and the Final Redemption. Rabbi Zeira, on the other hand, believed that Jews should move to Israel and it is praiseworthy for them to do so—but they should immigrate individually, and not as a mass movement. This is evidently the majority position of the Talmudic sages, since the whole passage begins by saying that any Jew who doesn’t live in Israel is an atheist or idolater, and goes on to say how wonderful it is for a Jew to live in Israel. Rabbi Elazar’s concluding opinion is most intriguing, and seems to suggest that while he also agrees Jews shouldn’t move to Israel en masse, if they have already done so anyway then, bedieved, it is fine and they are sinless.

In the previous century, many Hasidic and Haredi rabbis took an anti-Zionist stance because of this Talmudic passage of the “Three Oaths”. Yet, ironically, some of the earliest figures who made aliyah to Israel en masse, “like a wall”, were actually Hasidim and Haredim! (For more on this, see the class on ‘The Hidden History of Zionism’.) The first was probably Rabbi Yehuda haHasid Segal (c. 1660-1700) who led a group of 1200 Jews to Israel from across Eastern Europe and the Ottoman Empire in 1697. Then came 300 Hasidim with Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk (c. 1730-1788) in 1777. In 1808 arrived someone from the opposite side of the spectrum, the Litvish Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Shklov (d. 1827), a disciple of the Vilna Gaon, who brought with him 150 Mitnagdim. Meanwhile, the Sefardi world, led by Sir Moses Montefiore, Rabbi Yehuda Alkali, and Rabbi Yehuda Bibas, sent many more Jews to Israel throughout the 1800s. And, of course, the First Aliyah (which began in 1881 and totalled some 25,000 people) was made up almost entirely of Hasidim fleeing the pogroms of the Russian Empire! And this brings us back to the Three Oaths.

The Oaths state that Jews would remain in exile without protest on condition that the nations would not oppress Israel too harshly. Clearly, history shows that the nations did not uphold their end of the deal. Jews were tormented endlessly and brutally, whether by Crusaders or Inquisitors, Almohads, Cossacks, or Nazis. It is clear that the Oaths were violated by the nations, and thus rendered null and void. Jews had no choice but to move to Israel en masse.

The first major wave actually came following the Spanish Expulsion of 1492. It was those Sephardic Jews—coming in the many thousands—that rebuilt the four holy cities of Jerusalem, Hebron, Tzfat, and Tiberias and re-established vibrant communities there in the 16th century. There would be no Shulchan Arukh and no Kitvei Arizal and no Lecha Dodi (all of which were composed in 16th-century Tzfat) were it not for the “wall” of Sephardim that migrated there. The “wall” of religious Jews that came in the 1800s and early 1900s set the foundations for the modern State of Israel, and established some of the most religious Jewish neighbourhoods in the world like Mea Shearim and Bnei Brak.

So, it seems no one made a particularly big deal about the Three Oaths until recently. It was just a little-known idea from a short passage in the Talmud that is almost never mentioned in any other ancient texts. In fact, it wasn’t until Religious Zionism was hijacked by more secular Political Zionism that people started to remember the old Talmudic oaths. Now, one might argue those oaths don’t matter anyway because they are not halakhah, and just part of a personal debate between Rav Yehuda and Rabbi Zeira. (After all, the Jews never literally took any such oaths, and neither did the nations of the world.) However, even if one goes with the position that the oaths were firm and binding, the modern State of Israel still does not violate them.

The Maharsha (Rabbi Shmuel Eidels, 1555-1631) comments here on Ketubot 111a (appropriately, in his Chiddushei Aggadot, not Chiddushei Halakhot!) that there is an exception to ascending “like a wall” to Israel. He connects the mysterious term “like a wall”, chomah, to Nehemiah 2:17, where Nehemiah says to the exiled Jews: “You see the bad state we are in—Jerusalem lying in ruins and its gates destroyed by fire. Come, let us rebuild the wall of Jerusalem [chomat yerushalayim] and suffer no more disgrace.” The Maharsha asks how could it be that Nehemiah was inspiring thousands of Jews to return to Israel “like a wall” and rebuild it? Doesn’t this violate the oath? The Maharsha answers that it didn’t violate the oath because Nehemiah had the king’s permission to do so. This was not an act of rebellion against the nations! Which brings us back to the case of modern Israel.

The Jews that were returning to Israel en masse, starting in the 15th century, were doing so with the full permission of the Ottoman Empire who ruled over the land. In fact, Don Joseph Nasi (1524-1579) was given a charter by the Ottomans to recreate a semi-autonomous Jewish state with its capital in Tiberias, and was given the official title “Lord of Tiberias”. This is essentially the same situation as Nehemiah was in. The Jews in the 1800s were similarly buying plots of land from the Ottomans legally. Then the British took over and became the new overlords of the land. The Balfour Declaration demonstrated the intent of the British to establish a Jewish state in the Holy Land. The San Remo Conference of 1920 adopted and affirmed the Balfour Declaration, with the international powers agreeing to establish a Jewish state in Israel. And finally, the UN voted to establish a Jewish state in November 1947 through the consensus of a majority of nations. (As many have pointed out, far from being an “illegal occupier”, the State of Israel is possibly the most legal state on the planet!) Thus, the creation of the modern State of Israel would mirror the times of Nehemiah and, according to the reasoning of the Maharsha, would not be a violation of the Three Oaths.

Finally, if we go back to the Scriptural source for the Three Oaths, the verses say that we shouldn’t “awaken until it pleases” God. How exactly would we know if it pleases God? Perhaps through a series of miracles and signs? Supernatural occurrences and clear divine favour? Does modern Israel not fit the bill? Turning swamps and deserts into high-tech metropolises, re-establishing forests with literally hundreds of millions of new trees, exporting fruit to the world, desalinating water so that the land and its people no longer have to worry about being parched, and fighting off wave after wave of attack from aggressive neighbours. Do we ignore the miracles of 1948 and 1967 and 1973? Did we forget all the prophecies in Tanakh that have come true right before our eyes? How many more signs do we need to confirm that, indeed, “it pleases God”?

It hasn’t been easy, of course, and there has been a great deal of suffering along the way, but it was never meant to be easy, and Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai told us long ago that three gifts are acquired through pain: “The Holy One, Blessed be He, gave Israel three precious gifts, all of which were given only by means of suffering: Torah, the Land of Israel, and the World to Come.” (Berakhot 5a) We have thankfully already received the first two gifts. Hopefully, the suffering we are experiencing now as a nation is the necessary bit of pain before the third and final gift which is right around the corner.