Tag Archives: Jewish Wedding

The Meaning of Minyan

This week’s parasha (in the diaspora) is Shlach, centered around the infamous incident of the Spies. While highly unfortunate, we do learn from it the rule of having a minyan, the quorum of ten men needed for various prayers and rituals. Recall that Moses sent twelve spies total, and two came back with a positive report (Joshua and Caleb), while the other ten convinced the nation not to proceed with entering the Holy Land. God then refers to these ten as the edah hara’ah, the “wicked congregation” (Numbers 14:27). Rashi comments here that we learn from this the minimum number of men to be considered a “congregation” is ten. He cites the Talmud in Megillah 23b which uses this Torah verse as proof that a proper minyan needs at least ten. The Mishnah there starts the discussion by listing various practices that require a minimum of ten, including public Torah and Haftarah readings, birkat kohanim, the repetition of the Amidah, weddings, and funerals. (The Gemara goes on to clarify that the groom at a wedding or the mourner at the funeral do count among the ten.) While Talmud here does not explain why it is exactly that ten men are needed, the Zohar does.

The Ten Sefirot

The Zohar (I, 24a) says, as one might expect, that the ten men of a minyan correspond to the Ten Sefirot. Each person takes on one of the Sefirot, and serves as a “conduit” for one of the Sefirot, allowing the prayers to properly ascend Heavenward. Moreover, it is only in the presence of ten that the Shekhinah can be manifest. Elsewhere, the Zohar (I, 67b) finds an even earlier source for a minyan, pointing out that Abraham had asked God to spare Sodom for the sake of ten righteous people (Genesis 18:32). God replied that He would not destroy Sodom if there even ten good people there. From this we learn that ten good people who recognize God and pray to Him can potentially avert even the most catastrophic decrees—another excellent reason to regularly pray with a minyan! The Zohar here also notes that had there been ten righteous people in the times of Noah, the Great Flood itself would have been averted. Unfortunately, there were only eight good people at the time, the eight-member family of Noah that merited to be saved in the Ark.

Later still, the Zohar (I, 201a) points out another important minyan in the Torah: the sons of Jacob initially came down to Egypt in a quorum of ten (having left Benjamin behind). The Zohar says they were strong and protected as long as they stayed together as ten. Once Joseph imprisoned Shimon, only nine of them were left, and they were now spiritually unprotected and subject to harsh din. The Zohar here says that Hashem gets upset when one member of the minyan leaves and only nine are left. Meanwhile, the Talmud in Sotah (33a) brings another important teaching involving the story of Joseph:

The Talmud says that a person should not pray in Aramaic because angels do not understand Aramaic. This is specifically referring to when a person prays alone, and needs the assistance of angels to carry his prayers up. When it comes to communal prayers with a minyan, however, this isn’t necessary, presumably because the Shekhinah is already there anyway, and the assistance of angels is not required. Thus, communal prayers can be said in Aramaic, which would explain why Kaddish is in Aramaic and needs a minyan to be recited. (Lots more on the meaning and power of Kaddish here.) The Talmud here notes an exception to the general rule of angels not speaking Aramaic, pointing out that the angel Gabriel does speak Aramaic, and knows seventy languages, which were all taught to Joseph on that fateful night when he was released from prison and came before Pharaoh for the first time.

Children and Women in Minyan

Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer (Ch. 19) comments on the asor, King David’s ten-stringed instrument, that “All faithful testimonies of Israel need ten.” It goes on to list that “the testimony for the dead is through ten. The testimony for the public benediction of God’s Name is through ten. The testimony of the covenant of circumcision is through ten. The testimony for chalitzah is through ten, as it is said, ‘And he took ten men of the elders of the city…’” (Ruth 4:2) Based on this same verse in Ruth, the Talmud (Ketubot 7b) derives that a wedding and a Sheva Berakhot needs ten as well, since Boaz went on to marry Ruth immediately after. All of these rituals need a quorum of ten to parallel the Ten Sefirot and make the ceremony complete; to serve as conduits for blessings to effectively come down, and for prayers to effectively go up.

And that’s why it’s so powerful to be among the first ten in a minyan. Every additional person that comes afterwards is important, too, and compounds the effect. But the first ten make it all happen. The Talmud adds that the first ten get a reward equivalent to all the others that show up later, combined, even if there were a hundred more people (Berakhot 47b). But what if there are not ten? What if one is missing? The same page of Talmud discusses this, too. First, it suggests that a slave can count as the tenth, or a newly-emancipated slave. Rav Huna proposes that a Torah scroll in the aron can count as the tenth. Rav Ami suggests that Shabbat can count as a tenth, or that two great Torah scholars can count as three people! Rabbi Yochanan says a minor who is old enough to know how to pray and recognizes to Whom he is praying can count as the tenth, or at least as the third for a zimun before birkat hamazon.

Later rabbinic texts discuss that last point at length. The Shulchan Arukh (Orach Chayim 55:4) concludes that while there were those who permitted including a minor (over the age of 6) in extenuating circumstances, it generally should not be done. Surprisingly, there is one source (the Mordechi on Berakhot, #158) that suggests a woman might count in extenuating circumstances as well. Halakhah never went with that opinion. The general position is that, since women are technically exempt from praying, they cannot count in a minyan for prayer. (This is aside from the modesty issue, since men and women need to be physically separated as well.)

Rav Yosef Messas, rabbi of Tlemcen (now Algeria), and later chief rabbi of Haifa, Israel.

But what about something like a Megillah reading, in which women generally are obligated? (Megillah 4a) At least one opinion held that a woman might count for this, as the Meiri wrote: “Some say that for all cases in which a minyan of ten is necessary, if a woman’s obligation is equivalent to that of men, they may join the minyan.” (More on that here.) Today, it is not uncommon in the Modern Orthodox world for women to hold their own women-only Megillah readings. A related issue is reading publicly from the Torah. The Talmud (Megillah 23a) suggests that a woman theoretically could be called up to the Torah and read from the Torah publicly, but it shouldn’t be done due to issues of respect and modesty. But what if it’s an all-women congregation? Might that be allowed? Amazingly, Rav Yosef Messas (1892-1974), one of the great Sephardic chakhamim of the 20th century and chief rabbi of Haifa, wrote in his Nahalat Avot that there were indeed Sephardic communities in the past where women formed their own minyanim, read from the Torah, and even donned tallit and tefillin!

When we look back at our prophecies, they do describe a future time when “a woman will encircle a man” (Jeremiah 31:22) and, when the light of the moon—understood to represent the female—will once again be restored to its former glory and be equal to the “male” sun (Isaiah 30:26). Intriguingly, in Exodus 15:20-21 it says that Miriam took the women to sing their own song after the Splitting of the Sea, and the word used in reference to the women is lahem, instead of the feminine lahen. The Kli Yakar (Rabbi Shlomo Ephraim of Luntschitz, 1550-1619) comments: “It should have said lahen but because at the Sea the women reached the same level as the men in attaining prophecy, it says lahem, as if speaking to males, and so too this will be in the future, as it is stated, ‘A woman will encircle a man.’”

So perhaps the recent rise of women’s minyanim, along with the proliferation of beit yaakov schools for girls, women’s prayer groups, women’s Torah classes, women’s Megillah readings, women’s siddurim, and so many sefarim custom-tailored for women; yoatzot halakhah and popular rabbanit speakers; Rosh Chodesh gatherings, communal challah bakes, and the like, is yet another sign that we are in the times of the Final Redemption.

A New Perspective on Rabbi Akiva, Rachel, and the 24,000

An illustration of Rabbi Akiva from the Mantua Haggadah of 1568

Now that Lag b’Omer is behind us and the mourning customs have been lifted, it may be a good time to reflect more deeply on the whole story of Rabbi Akiva and his 24,000 students. This story is very well-known, of course, and deeply ingrained in our psyches. But for me, like for many people, multiple aspects of the story never really made sense. So many questions emerge, each more troubling than the next.

First, how it is possible that 24,000 Torah giants—talmidei chakhamim and presumably very righteous people—were slaughtered in the span of just a few weeks? The students of the great and saintly Rabbi Akiva, no less? Why did he have to suffer such a horrendous loss? And all because the students “didn’t honour each other properly”? Since when does lack of honour incur mass execution? And what does it even mean, anyway, that they didn’t “honour” each other? How so?

Another question: why specifically 24,000 disciples? How did Rabbi Akiva even get such an astronomical number of students in the first place, at a time following the Great Revolt when the Jewish community in the Holy Land was decimated? And why does the number 24 keep coming up in the story? Recall that Rabbi Akiva left his home and was away from him wife for 24 years, returning with 24,000 students. Surely this is not coincidental. I believe it might actually hold the key to answering all of the perplexing questions above, as well as another big mystery:

Why is it that the mourning period for the 24,000 students specifically requires abstaining from weddings. As explored in the past, the earliest mention of “mourning” during the Omer is from the times of the Geonim, and suggests to only avoid weddings. (The first halakhic code to officially speak about it, the Arba Turim, notes a universal custom to avoid weddings, and only a local custom among some communities to avoid haircuts.) Why is the essence of mourning for the 24,000 specifically observed by prohibiting weddings? Continue reading

Why Kiddush on Wine?

In this week’s parasha, Nasso, the Torah commands that a nazir is to abstain from wine and any other grape products. Wine appears frequently in the Torah, and plays a huge role in Judaism. Every Shabbat and holiday is ushered in with kiddush on wine, and concludes with a wine havdallah. Every wedding has a blessing on wine under the chuppah, as does a brit milah, and in ancient times wine libations were brought in the Temple. What makes wine so special?

The numerical value of “wine” (יין) is 70, a most significant number. It reminds us of the seventy names of God, of the seventy root nations of the world, and the seventy “faces” of Torah understanding. Our Sages famously stated that nichnas yayin, yatza sod, “when wine enters, secrets come out”. More than a simple proverb, it is a mathematical equation since the value of “secret” (סוד) is also 70. So, as seventy comes in, seventy comes out. On the surface level, the statement means that alcohol makes a person more likely to spill their secrets. On the deeper level, though, the Sages meant that one who drinks wine may be able to enter a mental state where they can uncover the secrets of Torah, and see it through all seventy faces. Wine can make “a man’s mind more receptive” (Yoma 76a).

Our Sages taught that wine is unique in that it defies the natural order: whereas other things degrade over time (as encapsulated in the second law of thermodynamics, the law of entropy, that the universe always tends towards disorder), wine improves and gets more valuable over time. Wine has another incredible scientific quirk: Japanese scientists researching electrical superconductors had a party in their lab and ended up accidentally discovering that wine makes certain metals superconductive!

Superconductivity refers to the property of being able to transmit electricity perfectly with no resistance and no energy loss. Generally, superconductivity requires cooling substances to near absolute zero (-273ºC). Some substances are able to superconduct at higher temperatures, around -90ºC, but even this is far too cold to be practical. Scientists around the world are therefore on the hunt for a room-temperature superconductor which, if found, would completely revolutionize the world. It would result in dramatic energy savings, and would allow for other cool phenomena like “quantum levitation”.

The Japanese scientists found that wine makes some things superconductive, especially iron-based compounds. And red wine especially was up to seven times more effective than other alcoholic beverages. No explanation for this has yet been found. It is all the more significant when we consider the central role that electricity plays in Jewish mysticism, and that our brains literally run on electrical signalling (suggesting how wine might make our brains more receptive to Torah secrets!) and that our bodies are full of iron, which makes our blood red, too.

While all of the above is fascinating, it does not explain why wine is so prevalent in Jewish rituals, especially in the recitation of every kiddush. What is the reason for wine? Continue reading