Daf Ditty Yoma 5: Scholars vs Talmidei Chachamim

After a long digression in which many peripheral issues were addressed, the Gemara returns to
interpreting the mishna. It was taught in the mishna: The Sages would remove the High Priest
from his house to the Chamber of Parhedrin. The Gemara asks: Why do the Sages remove him?
The Gemara asks in astonishment: Why do the Sages remove him? It is as we stated above:
Whether it is according to Rabbi Yoḥanan, as per his opinion: Sequestering of the High Priest
is derived from the sequestering prior to the inauguration; or whether it is according to Reish
Lakish, as per his opinion: Sequestering of the High Priest is derived from sequestering at Sinai,
the answer is clear. What is the point of the Gemara’s question?

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The Gemara explains: This is what the Gemara is saying. Why did he withdraw from his house,
i.e., his wife? The Gemara explained why he must be removed to a special location; but why
doesn’t his wife join him? It was taught in a baraita: Rabbi Yehuda ben Beteira says: It is due
to the concern lest his wife be found to be in a situation of uncertainty as to whether or not she
has the halakhic status of a menstruating woman, and he will have relations with her and
become impure.

The Gemara explains: This is what the Gemara is saying. Why did he withdraw from his house,
i.e., his wife? The Gemara explained why he must be removed to a special location; but why
doesn’t his wife join him? It was taught in a baraita: Rabbi Yehuda ben Beteira says: It is due
to the concern lest his wife be found to be in a situation of uncertainty as to whether or not she
has the halakhic status of a menstruating woman, and he will have relations with her and
become impure.

Summary

Sequestering the Kohen Gadol before Yom Kippur is not essential to the Yom Kippur
service.

There is a dispute regarding the miluim service. Rabbi Yochanan maintains that everything that
was written regarding the miluim service is essential for them, and Rabbi Chanina maintains that
something that is essential for future generations is essential for them, but something that is not
essential for future generations is not essential for them. The Gemara states that a difference
between the two opinions is the requirement that the Kohen Gadol be sequestered for the first
seven days of the miluim period to prepare for his service on the eighth day. According to Rabbi
Yochanan, who maintains that everything written regarding them is essential for them, then
sequestering is essential for the Kohen Gadol during the miluim period, whereas according to
Rabbi Chanina who maintains that something that is not essential for future generations is not
essential for them, then sequestering is not essential.

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Proof that sequestering is not essential for future generations is because our Mishnah (2a) taught
that they prepare another Kohen as his substitute and the Mishnah did not teach that they sequester
another Kohen. This is clear proof that the requirement to sequester the Kohen Gadol is not
essential to the Yom Kippur service.

A Kohen Gadol can serve even if he has not served with the eight vestments for seven
consecutive days.

A Baraisa states that it is said regarding the Yom Kippur service and the Kohen who has been
anointed or who has been inaugurated to serve in place of his father shall effect atonement. It is
said elsewhere regarding the inauguration of a new Kohen Gadol for a seven-day period he shall
don the vestments-he who serves in his stead [the previous Kohen Gadol’s] among his sons. If he
had the vestments added to him for seven days and he was anointed for seven days, then he can
serve as Kohen Gadol in place of his father. If the vestments were added to him for seven days and
he was only anointed for one day, or if the vestments were added to him for one day and he was
anointed for seven days, he can also serve. This is derived from the words who has been anointed
or who has been inaugurated, which implies that the Kohen Gadol is not required to add the extra
vestments and be anointed for seven days to serve as a qualified Kohen Gadol.
Anointment of seven days is required for the Kohen Gadol in future generations.

From the verse that states for a seven-day period he shall don them we learn that adding the
vestments of the Kohen Gadol for seven days is required initially. We know that initially there is
a requirement of anointment for seven days because the Torah had to state that seven days of
anointing are not essential, so the implication is that initially the Kohen Gadol must be anointed
for seven days. Alternatively, we derive this law from the verse that states and the holy vestments
that are for Aharon shall be to his sons after him, to become elevated (literally: anointed) with
them and to be come inaugurated through them. Since the word lemashchah, to anoint, is said
regarding the donning of vestments, we learn that anointing is likened to adding vestments. Just
like adding the vestments is for seven days, so too the anointment is for seven days.

Aharon and his sons ate the Minchah even though they were in a state of aninus.

On the eighth day of the miluim period, the two sons of Aharon, Nadav and Avihu, died, which
placed Aharon and his two remaining sons, Elazar and Isamar, in a state of aninus, which is the
state of mourning that commences as soon as one of the seven closest relatives dies. Moshe then
commanded Aharon and his sons to eat the Minchah, despite the fact that Aharon and his sons
were in a state of aninus. This is derived from the expression that Moshe used for so have I been
commanded. Although an onein is normally prohibited from eating sacrificial foods, this case was
an exception, so Moshe had to state explicitly that he was thus commanded by HaShem.

The pants of the Kohanim and the tenth-eiphah were included in the miluim service.

Moshe was instructed to dress Aharon and his sons in their required vestments on each of the seven
days of the miluim. The Torah does not mention that Aharon and his sons should wear pants. When
the Torah states in its introduction to the commandment regarding the miluim service and this is

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the matter that you shall do for them to sanctify them to serve as Kohanim, the word and is
considered to be adding to the preceding section where the pants of the Kohanim are mentioned.

This teaches that the pants were part of the vestments that Aharon and his sons were required to
wear during the miluim period. The tenth-eiphah, which was the Minchah offering that every
Kohen brought on his inauguration, was also brought by Aharon and his sons during the miluim
period. This is derived from a gezeirah shavah using the word this. Regarding the miluim it is said
and this is the matter… and regarding the commandment that every Kohen must offer a Minchah
offering the first time he performs the service in the Bais HaMikdash, it is said this is the offering
of Aharon and his sons which each shall offer to HaShem on the day he is inaugurated; a tenth of
an ephah. The gezeirah shavah links that Minchah with the miluim service

LETTING THE KOHEN GADOL STAY WITH HIS WIFE

Rav Mordechai Kornfeld writes:1

Our Daf asks why the Kohen Gadol must separate from his wife during his Perishah before Yom
Kippur. She should be permitted to remain in isolation together with him.

How can the Gemara suggest that the Kohen Gadol remain together with his wife when he isolates
himself in the Lishkas Parhedrin? The Lishkah is located in the Azarah (11a), and a Ba'al Keri is
prohibited not only from entering the Azarah but also from entering any part of Har ha'Bayis altogether
(Pesachim 67b). How, then, could the Kohen Gadol be permitted to remain there with his wife?

RASHI (DH mi'Beiso) proves that the Lishkas Parhedrin does not have the Kedushah of the Azarah.
If it did, the Kohen Gadol would be required to stand there for all seven days without sitting down at
all, because one is forbidden to sit in the Azarah. Therefore, a Ba'al Keri is also permitted to be there.

TOSFOS (DH mi'Beiso) rejects this answer. He argues that even if the Lishkah does not have the
Kedushah of the Azarah because it opens into Har ha'Bayis and not into the Azarah (and as a result it
is considered part of Har ha'Bayis and not part of the Azarah, and thus sitting there is permitted), it still
has the Kedushah of Har ha'Bayis, and a Ba'al Keri is not permitted to enter Har ha'Bayis.
Perhaps Rashi means that the Lishkah does not have Kedushah at all because it is built on the roof of
another structure. The Gemara in Pesachim (86a) teaches that the roofs of the structures on Har
ha'Bayis do not have Kedushah at all.

TOSFOS and the TOSFOS YESHANIM explain that the Gemara's question is why the Kohen Gadol
must isolate himself in the Azarah in the first place; let him go to a place which has no Kedushas
Azarah, such as the underground chambers (Mechilos) beneath Har ha'Bayis (which have no
Kedushah, as the Gemara says in Pesachim 86a).

1
https://www.dafyomi.co.il/yoma/insites/yo-dt-006.htm

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TOSFOS YESHANIM adds that the Kohen Gadol does not have to be in seclusion for the entirety of
the seven days. He is permitted to go out for short periods of time to take care of his needs, just as
Aharon ha'Kohen went out of the Machaneh Leviyah during his Perishah at the time of the Milu'im
(his Perishah was in the Mishkan, and the Mishkan was dismantled every night and had no Kedushah
when it was dismantled). The Gemara's question is that even though the Kohen Gadol is isolated in the
Azarah, he should be allowed to go out to meet his wife in the underground chambers during the short
periods that he goes out of seclusion.

SEPARATING THE KOHEN GADOL FROM A "SAFEK NIDAH"

The Gemara says that the Kohen Gadol must separate from his wife during the seven days of Perishah,
because if he is allowed to be with her she might discover that she is a Nidah a short time after they
have relations. Consequently, she had the status of a Safek Nidah at the time they were together.
Why does the Gemara not say simply that she might discover immediately afterwards that she is a
Nidah, and thus she had the status of a Vadai Nidah at the time they were together?

TOSFOS in Nidah (15a) and the TOSFOS YESHANIM here explain that there is no concern that she
will discover that she is a Nidah immediately after relations, because such a case is very unusual. The
only concern is that she will discover that she is a Nidah a short time afterwards, in which case she had
the status of a Safek Nidah at the time they were together.

The TOSFOS RID says that the Gemara's intention is to emphasize how important it is that the Kohen
remain Tahor on Yom Kippur. In order to ensure his Taharah, the Rabanan instituted an enactment that
will prevent the Kohen Gadol from inadvertently living even with a Safek Nidah, and not only with a
Vadai Nidah.

THE PRIVATE KORBAN OF THE KOHEN GADOL

OVERRIDES "TUM'AH"

The Gemara points out that the Kohen Gadol is isolated only from his wife to prevent him from
becoming Tamei with Tum'as Bo'el Nidah (or Safek Nidah). He is not isolated from all other people
to prevent him from becoming Tamei with Tum'as Mes. The Gemara proves from here that "Tum'ah
Hutrah b'Tzibur": even if the Kohen Gadol becomes Tamei, he may perform the Avodah, even
l'Chatchilah, for a Korban Tzibur while he is Tamei with Tum'as Mes.

However, besides the Korbanos that the Kohen Gadol offers on Yom Kippur on behalf of the Tzibur,
he also brings a Korban Yachid for himself (the Par and Ayil of the Kohen Gadol). The principle of
"Tum'ah Hutrah b'Tzibur" applies only to a Korban of the Tzibur, but not to an individual's private
Korban. The Gemara (7a) teaches that the "Ayil of Aharon" of Yom Kippur is a Korban Yachid.
(Although that Korban is similar to a Korban Tzibur in that it has a set time ("Zeman Kavu'a"), it is
not considered a Korban Tzibur because it is not owned by the Tzibur.) Why does the Gemara here
assume that the Kohen Gadol may offer all of the Korbanos of Yom Kippur while he is Tamei with
Tum'as Mes?

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The RITVA explains that the Par of Aharon, although privately owned, is considered a Korban Tzibur
(so that Tum'ah is Hutrah for it). It is considered a Korban Tzibur because the atonement of the Tzibur
depends on it, since its blood must be sprinkled in the Kodesh ha'Kodashim together with the blood of
the Sa'ir (the Korban which provides atonement for the Tzibur). The Acharonim (see SI'ACH
YITZCHAK) explain that this is also the intention of Rashi (DH Hutrah) when he says that "the
Korban [of the Jewish people] depends on it" (on the Par of Aharon).

However, this explains only why the Kohen Gadol's Par is considered a Korban Tzibur. Why, though,
is his Ayil considered a Korban Tzibur, such that Tum'ah is Hutrah for it?

The Ritva explains that the principle of "Tum'ah Hutrah b'Tzibur" means that every effort must be
made to avoid offering a Korban in a state of Tum'ah. The Gemara here is not discussing the actual
offering of the Korban in a state of Tum'ah. Rather, the Gemara is discussing whether the Rabanan
were so stringent as to require that the Kohen Gadol separate from all people for seven days to avoid
becoming Tamei with Tum'as Mes. He is not actually Tamei with Tum'as Mes now. With regard to the
extent of effort that must be exerted in order to ensure that the Ayil is not offered in a state of Tum'ah,
the Rabanan said that Tum'ah is Hutrah and did not require that such extreme measures be taken to
prevent the Kohen Gadol from becoming Tamei with Tum'as Mes.

Alternatively, the Ritva in the name of TOSFOS says that the fact that the Ayil of Aharon cannot be
offered in a state of Tum'ah (since it is not a Korban Tzibur) is not a reason to require that the Kohen
Gadol separate from all people for seven days. Since it is only a single Korban, and it is only a Korban
Yachid, the Rabanan did not find it necessary to separate the Kohen Gadol from all people merely to
ensure that he brings his Ayil in a state of Taharah. (If he becomes Tamei, he will not bring his Ayil.)
(c) The TOSFOS YESHANIM (DH v'Tisbera) and the SHA'AGAS ARYEH (#38) answer that
mid'Oraisa anything that has a set time (Zeman Kavu'a) is Hutrah b'Tzibur, even if it is a Korban
Yachid. When the Gemara later says that the Ayil of Aharon is not offered in a state of Tum'ah because
it is a Korban Yachid, it means that the Rabanan decreed that it not be offered. The Rabanan decreed
that Tum'ah be avoided because the Ayil is a private Korban.

Since mid'Oraisa it may be offered in a state of Tum'ah because it has a set time, the Rabanan did not
require that the Kohen Gadol separate for seven days from all people to avoid becoming Tamei with
Tum'as Mes. (See also TOSFOS to 8a, DH Iy Savar.)

The Sequestering of the High Priest

Steinzaltz (OBM) writes:2

As we learned in the Mishna (2a) the High Priest is kept in one of the Temple offices for the week
prior to Yom Kippur. Aside from training for the service that he is to perform on the Day of
Atonement, this also keeps him away from his house, where there is a possibility that he may
become ritually defiled by contact with others.

2
https://steinsaltz.org/daf/yoma6/

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With regard to the sequestering of the High Priest, the Gemara asks: And before you remove him
from the potential of impurity of his house, remove him from the potential of the more
severe impurity imparted by a corpse. The Sages should have instituted an ordinance prohibiting
visitors to the High Priest lest one die while in his chamber and render him impure.

The Gemara offers a variety of explanations why we do not totally limit his contact with others.

Rashi’s explanation of the Gemara’s question is that someone may enter his office in the Temple
and die, so the suggestion is that contact with anyone should be limited. Some commentaries argue
that Rashi’s explanation is difficult, both because the Talmud does not usually concern itself with
the unlikely possibility that someone will die, and also because we know that the author of our
Mishna specifically excluded that possibility, when he rejects Rabbi Yehuda’s opinion that we
need to secure an additional wife for the Kohen Gadol lest his first wife pass away.

In explaining Rashi, the Gevurot Ari argues that we must distinguish between a situation where
the question is whether a specific individual may die, and one where there is a group of people and
the question is whether one person from amongst the group will pass away. Since many people
visit the Kohen Gadol in his office in the week prior to Yom Kippur, the Gemara is within its rights
to suggest that perhaps one of them will die.

There are those who suggest an alternative interpretation of the Gemara.

Rabbenu Yehonatan argues that the Gemara is simply suggesting that we limit the High Priest’s
contact with others, in case one of them is tameh met and will spread the defilement to others.
According to the R”i ha-Lavan we move the Kohen Gadol to the Mikdash because he is much less
likely to come into contact with the defilement of a dead body there, whereas at home the
likelihood is much greater.

Mark Kerzner writes:3

Earlier we mentioned that for seven days prior to Yom Kippur, the High Priest is separated into a
special chamber, where they teach him the order of the services. Why do we do this?

The Talmud asks, what kind of question is that? We already explained: according to Rabbi
Yochanan, this is derived from the dedication ceremony, and according to Resh Lakish - from the
giving of the Torah. The Talmud then rephrases: why do we separate him from his "house", that
is, from his wife? Let her go together with him!

The Talmud answers that there may be a doubt about her being ritually impure because of the
menses, and dismisses that: are we talking about non-observant people? Of course not! Rather, the
doubt may arise my accident, later, after they had relations. If so, we should likewise be concerned
that someone will die in his presence, and we should not allow him any human contact at all!

3
http://talmudilluminated.com/yoma/yoma6.html

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The answer is that the ritual impurity of the dead is different: if most of the priests (and in our case,
if the High Priest, the only one who can lead the Yom Kippur service) are ritually impure with the
impurity of the dead, the service can proceed. Alternatively, the answer is that people normally
don’t die suddenly in one's presence, so the Sages were not concerned for this possibility.

The belt worn by Aharon Hakohen and by all subsequent Kohanim Gedolim was made from ‫משזר‬
‫ שש‬, which was linen, blended together with blue-dyed wool ( ‫) וארגמן תכלת‬.4

The makeup of the belt worn by the ‫ כהן הדיוט‬is not described in the Torah, and it is the subject of
a dispute in our Gemara between the sons of R’ Chiya and R’ Yochanan. One opinion is that this
belt was only made of fine linen only, with no wool.

The other opinion says that this belt also was made of a linen/wool mixture. Rambam (Hilchos
Kilayim 10:32) writes that any kohen who wears his uniform at a time other than while he is
officiating is in violation of the sin of wearing ‫כלאים‬, and he is liable for lashes, even if he is
situated in the Mikdash.

Ra’aved disagrees and cites a Gemara (Yoma 69b) which reports that while a kohen is in the
Mikdash, he is not in violation of wearing ‫ כלאים‬even if he is not actually doing a service at that
moment.

This dispute between Rambam and Ra’aved appears also in Hilchos Klei HaMikdash (8:11).
Sha’agas Aryeh (#29) discusses this issue, and he brings many proofs from the Gemara to support
the opinion of Ra’aved.
One proof is from our Gemara, where we see that according to one opinion, it was only the Kohen
Gadol whose belt contained ‫כלאים‬. Now, the Kohen Gadol wore his eight special garments all year
long. When he did officiate, his service was an elective activity, because regular kohanim were
available to work instead of him.

The Kohen Gadol would not be justified in wearing ‫ כלאים‬when others could serve while not
wearing ‫ כלאים‬unless we accept the view of Ra’aved that the Kohen Gadol’s wearing of his belt

4
https://www.dafdigest.org/masechtos/Yoma%20006.pdf

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was allowed as long as he was in the Mikdash, even when he was not directly involved in an
obligatory part of the service.

(See Shabbos 133b, where a father should not circumcise his son if a spot of ‫ בהרת‬in on the ‫ערלה‬
if others are available to do the ‫ מילה‬because the father’s intentional act of cutting the ‫ בהרת‬can be
avoided. Here, too, the Kohen would not be allowed to serve while wearing ‫ כלאים‬if others doing
the job could do so without violating this sin.)

Mei HaShiloach, zt”l, explains that the kohanim personify all true servants of Hashem who know
that everything they experience is orchestrated from Above and that it is all for their true benefit.
The defilement of ‫ טומאת מת‬represents a state of mind that is incompatible with avodas Hashem.
As the Zohar HaKadosh states, this is typical of the grumbling and complaining that people often
do when faced with lack and loss.

One time, Yeshivas Be’er Yaakov was forced to relocate on short notice. Despite much searching,
the administrators simply could not find an affordable place that was feasible. The deadline for
moving was right after Shabbos, but late that Friday they were still at a loss as to where the new
home for the yeshiva would be.

They had no choice but to engage movers for the appointed time. Shabbos passed, and immediately
afterward, the Rosh Yeshivah, HaRav Moshe Shmuel Shapiro, zt”l, sat down to learn as usual. No
sign of anxiety was noticeable on his face. After three straight hours of learning, the Rosh Yeshiva
asked, “Did they hire movers yet?” When answered to the affirmative, he inquired further, “Why
haven’t they started to remove the things, then?” “Because we don’t know where we are going!”
“That is irrelevant. When it will be ‫למעשה נוגע‬, of immediate concern, Hashem will send the right
address!”

The movers were directed to start working and they began to pack up the library and the furniture.
Before the movers even finished packing, the Rosh Yeshiva’s son, HaRav Dovid Yitzchak, shlit”a,
arrived and shared the good news with his father. “We have just this moment located an appropriate
place and rented it!”

The Rosh Yeshiva did not register even a glimmer of amazement; as expected, Hashem sent the
right address at the moment of real need!

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 Do Clothes Make the Kohen?

Yirmiyohu Kaganoff writes:5

In the year 5017 (1257), several hundred Baalei Tosafos, led by Rav Yechiel of Paris, left Northern
France on a journey to Eretz Yisroel. Rav Eshtori HaParchi, the author of Kaftor VaFarech, who
lived two generations later, records a fascinating story (Vol. 1, page 101 in the 5757 edition) he
heard when he went to Yerushalayim to have his sefer reviewed by a talmid chacham named Rav
Baruch. Rav Baruch told him that Rav Yechiel had planned to offer korbanos upon arriving in
Yerushalayim! Rav Eshtori writes that he was too preoccupied with his sefer at the time to realize
that there were several halachic problems with Rav Yechiel’s plan. In Kaftor VaFarech he
mentions some of his own concerns; in addition, later poskim discuss many other potential
difficulties. Among the concerns raised is identifying several of the materials necessary for the
kohanim’s vestments.

VESTMENTS OF THE KOHEN

The Torah describes the garments worn by the kohanim in the Beis HaMikdash as follows:
"Aharon and his sons shall don their belt and their hat, and they (the garments) shall be for them
as kehunah as a statute forever," (Shemos 29:9). The Gemara (Zevachim 17b) deduces, "When
they wear their special vestments, they have the status of kehunah. When they are not wearing
these vestments, they do not have this status." This means that korbanos are valid only if the kohen
offering them attires himself correctly.

The regular kohen (kohen hedyot) wears four garments when performing service in the Beis
HaMikdash; three of them, his undergarment, his robe, and his turban are woven exclusively from
white linen. The Torah never describes how one makes the fourth garment, the kohen’s avneit, or
belt, but it does mention that the belt worn by the kohen gadol on Yom Kippur is woven exclusively
from linen, whereas the one he wears the rest of the year also contains techeiles, argaman, and
tola’as shani, different colored materials that I will describe shortly. The Gemara cites a dispute
whether the kohen hedyot’s belt also includes these special threads or whether he wears one of
pure linen (Gemara Yoma 6a, 12a, 69a) The Rambam concludes that the regular kohen’s avneit
includes threads of techeiles, argaman, and tola’as shani (Hilchos Klei HaMikdash 8:2).

Assuming that Rav Yechiel also concluded that the regular kohen’s avneit includes techeiles,
argaman, and tola’as shani, his proposal to offer korbanos required proper identification of these
materials, a necessary prerequisite to offer korbanos. This article will be devoted to the fascinating
questions that we must resolve to accomplish this task.

5
https://www.yeshiva.co/midrash/11011

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ARGAMAN

The Midrash Rabbah (Naso 12:4) reports that argaman is the most valuable of these four threads
and is the color of royal garments. The Rishonim dispute its color, the Rambam ruling that it is
red, whereas the Raavad understands that it is multicolored cloth woven either from different
species or of different color threads (Hilchos Klei HaMikdash 8:13). The Raavad explains that the
word argaman is a composite of arug min, meaning woven of different types. This approach
appears to be supported by a pasuk in Divrei HaYamim (II, 2:6) that lists argavan, rather than
argaman, as the material used in building the Beis HaMikdash (see also Daniel 5:7; Rashi to Divrei
HaYamim II, 2:6). The word argavan seems to be a composite of two words arug gavna meaning
woven from several colors, an approach that fits the Raavad’s description much better than it fits
the Rambam’s (see Ibn Ezra to Shemos 25:4).

The Raavad’s approach that argaman is multicolored is further supported by a comment in the
Zohar (Parshas Naso) that describes argaman as multicolored. However, the Radak (to Divrei
HaYamim II, 2:6) understands the word argavan according to Rambam’s approach, and Kesef
Mishneh similarly states that the primary commentaries followed Rambam’s interpretation. The
Rekanti (Shemos 25:3) quotes both approaches but implies that he considers the Raavad’s
approach to be primary.

By the way, the Ibn Ezra (Shemos 25:4) implies that argaman might have been dyed silk rather
than wool, whereas most opinions assume that it is wool (Rambam, Hilchos Klei HaMikdash 8:13;
Rashi, Shemos 25:4; 26:1; Rashbam, Shemos 25:4). Rabbeinu Bachya (Shemos 25:3) contends
that silk could not have been used for the mishkan or the Beis HaMikdash since it is manufactured
from non-kosher species. This is based on the Gemara Shabbos 28a that non-kosher items may not
be used for mitzvos. I will discuss this point further below.

IS ARGAMAN A COLOR OR A SOURCE?

It is unclear if the requirement to use argaman thread means that the thread used for the kohen’s
belt must be a certain shade of color, or whether it must be dyed with a specific dye. Rambam
implies that the source for the argaman color is irrelevant. These are his words:

"Argaman is wool dyed red and tola’as shani is wool dyed with a worm" (Hilchos Klei HaMikdash
8:13). (The Rambam explains elsewhere what he means when he says "dyed with a worm." It
should also be noted that the Hebrew word tola’as, which is usually translated worm may include
insects and other small invertebrates.) The Rambam’s wording implies that the source of the
argaman dye is immaterial as long as the thread is red. Thus, there may be no halachically required
source for the dye, provided one knows the correct appearance of its shade.

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TOLA’AS SHANI

One of the dye colors mentioned above is tola’as shani. In addition to its use for dyeing the kohen’s
belt and some of the Kohen Gadol’s vestments, tola’as shani was also used for some of the curtains
in the Mishkan and the Beis HaMikdash, in the manufacture of the purifying ashes of the parah
adumah (Bamidbar 19:6) and for the purifying procedure both of a metzora and of a house that
became tamei because of tzaraas (Vayikra 14:4, 49).

Tola’as shani is a red color (see Yeshaya 1:18). This presents us with a question: According to the
Rambam that argaman is red of a nondescript source, what is the difference between the shade of
argaman and that of tola’as shani? The Radak (Divrei HaYamim II 2:6) explains that they are
different shades of red, although he provides us with no details of what this difference entails.

Must tola’as shani be derived from a specific source, or is it sufficient for it to be a distinctive
shade of red, just as I suggested above that argaman is a color and not necessarily a specific dye
source?

The words of the Rambam that I quoted above answer this question: "Argaman is wool dyed red
and tola’as shani is wool dyed with a worm." These words imply that although argaman can be
used from any source that produces this color, tola’as shani must be from a very specific source.

A WORM BASED DYE

Can the pesukim help us identify what is tola’as shani? The description of tola’as, which means
worm, implies that the source of this dye is an invertebrate of some type. For this reason, some
authorities seem to identify tola’as shani as "kermes," a shade of scarlet derived from scale insects
or some similar animal-derived red color (see Radak to Divrei HaYamim II 2:6). Support for this
approach could be rallied from a pasuk in Divrei HaYamim (II 3:14) which describes the paroches
curtain that served as the entrance to the kodoshei hakodoshim, the Holy of Holies of the Beis
HaMikdash, as woven from the following four types of thread: techeiles, argaman, karmil, and
butz, which is linen. The Torah in describing the same paroches refers to it as made of techeiles,
argaman, tolaas shani, and linen. Obviously, karmil is another way of describing tola’as shani
(Rashi ad loc.). Similarly in Divrei HaYamim II (2:13), when describing the artisans sent by the
Tyrian King Hiram to help his friend King Shlomo, the pasuk mentions karmil as one of the
materials in place of tola’as shani. Thus, karmil, a word cognate to kermes, is the same as tola’as
shani (see Radak to Divrei HaYamim II 2:6).

However as I mentioned above, Rabbeinu Bachyei takes issue with this approach, insisting that
only kosher species may be used for building the mishkan and the garments of the kohanim. He
bases his criticism on the Gemara (Shabbos 28a) that states that "only items that one may eat may
be used for the work of heaven," which teaches that only kosher items may be used in tefillin
manufacture. How does this fit with the description of tola’as shani as a worm derivative?

12
The Rambam states that the dye called tola’as shani does not originate from the worm itself but
from a berry that the worm consumes (Hilchos Parah Adumah 3:2; see Rashi to Yeshaya 1:18 who
explains it similarly).

Although this is probably the primary approach we would follow in a halachic decision, we cannot
summarily dismiss those who identify tola’as shani as kermes or a different invertebrate-based
dye. Although Rabbeinu Bachya objects to a non-kosher source for tola’as shani, those who accept
that its source is kermes have several ways to resolve this issue. One possibility is that this halacha
applies only to a substance used as the primary item to fulfill the mitzvah but not if it serves only
as a dye (Shu"t Noda Bi’Yehudah 2, Orach Chayim #3).

Others resolve the objection raised by Rabbeinu Bachya by contending that the color derived from
these non-kosher creatures may indeed be kosher. Several different reasons have been advanced
to explain this approach. Some contend that this coloring is kosher since the creatures are first
dried until they are inedible or because a dead insect dried for twelve months is considered an
innocuous powder and no longer non-kosher (see Shu"t Minchas Yitzchak 3:96:2). (The halachic
debate on this issue actually concerns a colorant called carmine red that is derived from a South
American insect called cochineal. This color, which is derived from the powdered bodies of this
insect, is used extensively as a "natural red color" in food production. To the best of my knowledge,
all major kashrus organizations and hechsherim treat carmine as non-kosher, although I have read
teshuvos contending that it is kosher.)

A similar approach asserts that kermes dye is kosher since it is no longer recognizable as coming
from its original source (Pesil Techeiles, pg. 48 in the 1990 edition). This approach is based on a
dispute among early poskim whether a prohibited substance remains non-kosher after its
appearance has completely transformed. The Rosh (Berachos 6:35) cites Rabbeinu Yonah who
permitted using musk, a fragrance derived from the gland of several different animals, as a flavor
because it has transformed into a new substance that is permitted. The Rosh disputes Rabbeinu
Yonah’s conclusion, although in a responsum (24:6) he quotes Rabbeinu Yonah’s approach
approvingly.

It is noteworthy that this dispute between the Rosh and Rabbeinu Yonah appears to be identical to
a disagreement between the Rambam and the Raavad (Hilchos Klei HaMikdash 1:3) in
determining the source of the mor, one of the ingredients burnt as part of the fragrant ketores
offering in the Beis HaMikdash (see Shemos 30:23). The Rambam rules that mor is musk, which
he describes as the blood of an undomesticated Indian species. (Although the Rambam calls it
blood, he probably means any body fluid.) The Raavad disagrees, objecting that blood would be
used in the Beis HaMikdash, even if it was derived from a kosher species, certainly of a non-kosher
one. In explaining the Rambam’s position, Kesef Mishneh contends that once musk is reduced to
a powder that bears no resemblance to its origin it is kosher. Thus, the disagreement between the
Rambam and the Raavad as to whether a major change of physical appearance changes the

13
halachos of a substance may be identical to the dispute between Rabbeinu Yonah and the Rosh. It
turns out that the Radak, who implies that tola’as shani derives from non-kosher invertebrates,
may also accept the approach of Rabbeinu Yonah.

Some authorities have a different approach that would explain how tola’as shani may be acceptable
for Beis HaMikdash use even if it derives from a non-kosher source. They contend that the rule
prohibiting the use of non-kosher items applies only to tefillin and other mitzvos that utilize kisvei
hakodesh, holy writings, but does not apply to most mitzvos or to items used in the Beis
HaMikdash (Shu"t Noda Bi’Yehudah 2, Orach Chayim# 3; cf. Magen Avraham 586:13). This
approach requires some explanation.

The Gemara states that tefillin may be manufactured only from kosher substances, deriving this
halacha from the following verse: Limaan tihyeh toras Hashem b’ficha, in order that the law of
Hashem should always be in your mouth (Shemos 13:9); i.e., whatever is used for the Torah of
Hashem must be from kosher items that one may place into one's mouth. In order to resolve a
certain question that results from the Gemara’s discussion, some authorities explain that this
halacha refers only to items that have words of the Torah or Hashem’s name in them, such as
tefillin, mezuzos or a sefer torah, but does not include the garments worn by the kohen hedyot in
the Beis HaMikdash, which do not contain Hashem’s name (Shu"t Noda Bi’Yehudah II, Orach
Chayim #3). (The halacha requiring kosher substances would still apply to the tzitz and the
choshen, garments of the kohen gadol, both of which have Hashem’s name.)

TECHEILES

The next material or shade we need to identify, the techeiles, is also a factor in the wearing of our
daily tzitzis. Indeed, the Torah requires us to wear techeiles threads as part of this mitzvah.
Nevertheless, Jews stopped wearing techeiles about 1300 to 1500 years ago and with time its
source became forgotten. Although the Gemara (see Menachos 42b) mentions a creature called
chilazon whose blood is the source of techeiles and even discusses how to manufacture the dye,
the use of techeiles ended some time after the period of the Gemara. The Midrash states that "now
we have only white tzitzis since the techeiles was concealed" (Midrash Tanchuma, Shelach 15;
Midrash Rabbah, Shelach 17:5), which implies that Hashem hid the source for the techeiles.
Indeed, some poskim interpret the writings of the Arizal as saying that techeiles should not be
worn until moshiach comes (Shu"t Yeshuos Malko #1-3).

ATTEMPTS TO IDENTIFY THE TECHEILES

In 5647 (1887), the Radziner Rebbe, Rav Gershon Henoch Leiner, zt"l, published a small sefer,
Sefunei Temunei Chol, which concluded that the mitzvah of wearing techeiles applies even today.
In his opinion, the Midrash quoted above means that techeiles will become unavailable, but we are
both permitted and required to wear it. Based on his analysis of every place the Gemara mentions
the word chilazon, the Radziner drew up a list of eleven requirements whereby one could identify

14
the chilazon and concluded that if one locates a marine animal that meets all these requirements,
one may assume that it is the chilazon. He then traveled to Naples, Italy, to study marine animals
that might meet all the requirements of techeiles, and concluded that a squid-like creature called
the cuttlefish, which in many languages is called the inkfish, is indeed the chilazon from which
one produces techeiles. The Radziner then published his second volume on the subject, Pesil
Techeiles, in which he announced his discovery of the chilazon and his proofs why the cuttlefish
meets all the requirements of the chilazon. Subsequently, the Radziner published a third volume,
Ayn HaTecheiles to refute those who disagreed with him
.

The Radziner attempted to convince the great poskim of his generation to accept his thesis,
particularly, Rav Yitzchok Elchonon Spector (the Rav of Kovno and the Posek HaDor at the time),
the Beis HaLevi (then the Rav of Brisk), Rav Yehoshua Kutno (author of Yeshuos Malko, the Rav
of Kutno), the Maharil Diskin (who had been Rav of Brisk and was living in Yerushalayim), and
Rav Shmuel Salant (the Rav of Yerushalayim). None of these Rabbonim accepted the Radziner’s
proposal, although the Maharsham, the posek hador of the time in Galicia, felt that the Radziner’s
approach had merit and wore a talis with the Radziner’s techeiles, although apparently only in
private. Nowadays, only Radziner Hasidim and some Breslever Hasidim wear the techeiles that
the Radziner introduced.

Some later authorities have attempted to identify the techeiles as being one of several varieties of
sea snail, although the objections raised by the generation of poskim of the Radziner’s own time
apply to these species as well. (Several years ago, I discussed their position and the position of
their opponents.)

Among the many objections to both of these identifications of the chilazon is the contention that
neither the cuttlefish nor a snail could possibly be the source of the techeiles since they are not
kosher. In addition to the reasons I mentioned above, the Radziner presents a novel approach to
explain why techeiles may derive from a non-kosher source. He contends that although the flesh
of a non-kosher fish is forbidden min hatorah, the blood of a non-kosher species is forbidden only
miderabbanan. Since min haTorah one may eat this blood, it is permitted as a source for a kosher
dye.

It is noteworthy that a nineteenth century posek, Rav Tzvi Hirsch Kalisher, contended that the
garments of the kohen do not require chilazon as the dye source, only the color of techeiles. In his
opinion, chilazon dye is only necessary for tzitzis. (He based this approach on the wording of the
Rambam in Hilchos Tzitzis 2:1-2.) In Rav Kalisher’s opinion, one may dye the threads of the
avneit the correct techeiles color and perform the service. However, not all poskim accept this
interpretation but require the specific dye source of chilazon to dye the vestments (Likutei
Halachos, Zevachim Chapter 13, pg. 67a in the original edition).

In review

15
We know for certain is that the regular kohen (kohen hedyot) wears four garments when
performing service in the Beis HaMikdash, including the avneit, or belt, which the Rambam rules
includes threads of techeiles, argaman, and tola’as shani. In identifying these materials, however,
we have a dispute whether the techeiles derived from chilazon is necessary for offering korbanos,
or merely dyeing clothes the appropriate color, a second dispute whether the chilazon has been
hidden until Moshiach comes, and a third dispute whether the chilazon must be kosher or not. In
identifying the argaman, we are faced with a dispute between Rishonim whether its color is red or
a mix of different colors. And in identifying the tola’as shani, we face a dispute whether its source
is a berry that worms eat or a worm of some type. All these questions will need to be resolved
before we can again manufacture kosher bigdei kehunah, either by having Eliyahu Hanavi teach
us how the bigdei kehunah were made or by having the poskim of Klal Yisroel determine what the
halacha is.

Several earlier poskim devoted much time and energy into clarifying the correct procedures to
offer korbanos because of their intense desire to bring sacrificial offerings. Do we too have such a
burning desire to see the Beis HaMikdash rebuilt speedily in our days? May we soon merit seeing
the kohanim offering the korbanos in the Beis HaMikdash in purity and sanctity, Amen.

In the following piece from 1975 the spokesman for Modern orthodoxy sets the boundaries between
scholarship that allows for a detached, even nonorthodox scholar and Torah learning that includes
the transformation of the student to imbibe the values of what he is learning. In a postmodern
world it sounds cute if not naïve as the scholar he describes (Prof Gershom Scholem) was a deeply
spiritual Jew who believed in a heterodox postmodern mysticism that resisted both the naïve
normative tradition as well as the secular Zionist worldview he regarded as just another
secularized orthodoxy that hallowed the state, even if it be Jewish.6

"JUDAISM FROM THE INSIDE"

RABBI NORMAN LAMM writes:7

The more significant an event is, the more elaborately and deliberately must we prepare for it.
Rabbi Soloveitchik once said that more important than the shomer shabbat is the shomer erev
shabbat, the one who prepares before Shabbat in the right measure and spirit.

In this sense, it is worth turning our attention to the preparation for Yom Kippur. Our daf and on
2b, teaches that the High Priest had to remain within the Temple for seven days before Yom

6
Michael Fagenblat, Frankism and Frankfurtism: Historical Heresies for a Metaphysics of Our Most Intimate
Experiences Bamidbar 5.2 (2015), pp. 21-55

7
YOM KIPPUR 5736 THE JEWISH CENTER SEPTEMBER 15, 1975
https://archives.yu.edu/gsdl/collect/lammserm/index/assoc/HASH01d8/d9341c7f.dir/doc.pdf

16
Kippur. Every year he was to set aside this week and remain completely within the Sanctuary, in
a chamber known as lishkat parhedrin, there to prepare himself for the holiest day of the year.

As we all know, any room or house which serves as a residence requires that we affix a mezuzah
to the doorpost. Nevertheless, for certain reasons, the Temple rooms were exempt from this
obligation of a mezuzah. Hence, the lishkat parhedrin did not require a mezuzah.

However, R. Judah (Yoma~ 10b) is of a somewhat different opinion. As one of the Sages, he
normally adheres strictly to principle and is unconcerned with popular reactions and public
opinion. Yet here he shows a remarkable divergence from this method. He agrees with his
colleagues, that no chamber of the many within the Temple required a mezuzah.

The lishkat parhedrin, the chamber where the High Priest stayed for seven days, similarly did not
require the mezuzah insofar as the law was technically and formally concerned. However, R. Judah
maintains that the Rabbis promulgated a special decree requiring only of the lishkat parhedrin that
it be adorned with a mezuzah. The reason offered by R. Judah is amazing: “so that the people will
not say, "the High Priest is imprisoned in the Sanctuary!" R. Judah feared that when the masses
of the people came to Jerusalem for the High Holy Days, and congregated about the Temple, they
would notice that after the Priest went into the Sanctuary until after Yom Kippur, he did not emerge
for seven full days.

Not observing a mezuzah on the doorpost, and therefore not considering the lishkat parhedrin as
his personal residence, they might be led to the fantastic conclusion that as a result of some inner
court politics the High Priest was incarcerated in the Sanctuary!

Therefore, in order to avoid such a public misinterpretation, let there be a mezuzah affixed on the
doorpost of the lishkat parhedrin, so that the people will consider this chamber as the High Priest's
residence and not regard him as a prisoner within the Temple walls. This decree, according to R.
Judah, was made, as we moderns would be wont to say, to safeguard the "image" of the Priesthood
on Yom Kippur.

More remarkable than this rare example of the concern for the opinion of the unlearned masses, is
how the Sages conceived of the vast difference between the real facts and the distorted impressions
by hoi poiloi. Here was the High Priest, the cynosure of all eyes, the focus of the attention of all
Israel as they gathered in Jerusalem on the holy days, representing his people Israel before his
Creator in Heaven, engaged in spiritual exercises of the highest order, reaching the wery zenith of
his calling in this marvelous consecration of his whole personality to the great spiritual tasks to
which he is summoned on Yom Kippur -- what greater joy, what more poignant ecstasy? Yet, an
uninstructed public that cannot emancipate itself from its petty and prosaic prejudices, comes to
the bizarre conclusion:

Because they do not observe the High Priest engaged in the normal insignificant details of their
own trivial lives -- no going in and no going out, no rushing to work and no coffee breaks, no
entertainment, and no luxuries -- they therefore assume that the High Priest is locked up within!
Were it not for that mezuzah on the doorpost of his chamber, the public indeed might consider the
High Priest a prisoner in the Temple!

17
How does such a jarring discrepancy in perception come about, that people can consider a man in
jail when he is at the heights of spiritual grandeur and freedom? The answer, it would seem,
depends on your point of view: whether you view the sanctuary of Judaism as an insider or as an
outsider. If you look at the Sanctuary from the point of view of an insider, you gain a totally
different view from that of an outsider. If you are an outsider looking in, a spectator, you can never
experience that which the insider does: the subtle joys, the daily delights, the sense of freedom and
newness and rebirth. Viewed from without, the Priests appear as prisoners, when in fact they are
the princes of the Lord! From outside, all one can see is the High Priest incarcerated; whereas the
High Priest as the insider experiences the feeling of being -- as the Torah puts it -, "before the
Lord" -- a rare opportunity for an ennobling and elevating awareness of God's ineffable Presence.
But this an outsider cannot know, anymore -- to borrow and modify a parable from the Baal Shem
Tov -- than one who looks into a room from the street, beyond sound-proof windows. A wedding
party is taking place within, but the outsider does not see the musicians who stand on the side, and
he does not hear the music; he sees only people dancing. Inside, the dancers hear the music, and
they respond with the joyous rhythm of their whole bodies. But he, the outsider, sees the dancers
and thinks them madmen, engaged in meaningless gesticulations, in the weird convulsions of the
demented. This tendency to be an outsider is a fact of life in general today. Social thinkers from
psychologists and sociologists to philosophers comment regularly about the phenomenon of
"alienation." We have become alienated from our environment, our families, our world, and view
all as if we were outsiders.

Indeed, we even regard ourselves as outsiders, we are spectators to ourselves. It affects every
aspect of thought and activity of contemporary man. We have become statistic-dilettantes who
peddle figures but are alien to life's profoundest experiences; who can quote prices and facts and
costs and numbers, but who have failed to take the plunge into life's bitter-sweet mysteries. Indeed,
when it comes to religion, this difference between those within the Temple and Torah and those
without becomes most pronounced. More than once do I recall from my own youth being
introduced to a well-meaning stranger as an Orthodox Jew or Rabbinical student, or a young
Orthodox Rabbi.

To my infinite annoyance there spreads on the face of the Outsider the look of incredulousness,
and he says: "Orthodox -- and you so young?" As if Torah were an affliction brought on by old
age, a kind of spiritual geriatrics! How frustrating and often how futile to have to explain to an
outsider that to be "frum" is not to be a fossil, and to be religious is not be be a relic. How amusing
and yet how tragic to have to explain that we observe Torah not because we are
not because parents force us or circumstances coerce us
or because of habit of fear or need, but because we love and desire to live a meaningful Jewish life
, "before the Lord."

No doubt many of us here today have had similar experiences. Someone learns you are an
observant Orthodox Jew, and he clucks his tongue in sympathy, feeling genuinely sorry for you,
and responds in a half-admiring and half pitying tone: "You observe the Sabbath, with all its
restrictions? You cannot smoke or travel or write?" And we must explain Sabbath is for us not a
day of gloom and restriction; for an Insider it is one of oneg, unadulterated joy, when (without

18
being an ecstatic mystic) an ordinary observant Jew can experience the "additional soul" that
comes from a day of pure rest and recreation, when we feel liberated from the tyranny of all the
pettiness that surrounds us during the week.

Or someone discovers that you believe in and practice the laws of "family purity." And again, the
incredulous reaction, the mixture of pity and admiration: "You really practice these ascetic
regulations denying your basic drives?" And we have to explain so patiently: No, we are not
ascetics. We do not suppress basic drives -- we just restrain them in order to enjoy them the more,
in order to be rational humans, not instinct-driven biological mechanisms. We observe Kashrut
and we expect no awards and want no sympathy for it. It simply is part of our life "before the
Lord," the practical program of Jewish holiness and differentness. And the very fact of the
observance of Kashrut away from home, with all the minor inconveniences it entails, that by itself
gives us the feeling of being at home everywhere!

So, the Outsider beholds our deep identification with the State of Israel and sneers, "ethnic
tribalism." Our response is-- were you an Insider you would appreciate a dream over 2000 years
old, you would feel the pain of hopelessness and helplessness and loneliness that still aches from
Holocaust days!

The outsider beholds a synagogue and sees only size and number rather than content and quality,
the conventional rather than the moral, the fashionable rather than that which is truly dignifies,
opinions rather than ideas. He can see only the membership and budget and activities and
aesthetics. But he lacks that which the insider knows in the depths of his being: the heights of joy,
the touch of mystery and grandeur, the whisper of the echo of the sound of the voice of God. No,
we are not walled in in the sanctuaries; we are welling up with hope, with courage.

The differences in perception between the outsider and the insider come into sharp focus when we
turn to the problem of change, especially change of Halakhah. Many of our own people often
wonder whether we can and ought to change certain features of our religious life. The question is
a legitimate one, depending upon the significance of that which we wish to alter. But most
interesting is the attitudinal difference. The outsider's first reaction is: let us reshape, change, move
things about. Like an uninspired and insensitive amateur interior decorator visiting a historic
shrine, he wishes to impose his own superficial taste on that which weighs heavy with historic
associations and sentimental values. The insider approaches Judaism with reverence and awe. He
is overtaken with fear and trepidation before daring to tamper with the sacred. The insider knows
full well that what today's fashion declares to be a permanent feature of human thought, will well
be gone and forgotten tomorrow or the day after.

The report that yesterday a madman entered the Rijks Museum in Amsterdam and slashed part of
Rembrandt's "Night Watch," brings to mind the visit that I paid to that museum with my wife in
the beginning of this past Summer. The whole museum seems to be centered about this one
magnificent mural, which many regard as the greatest painting by Rembrandt. We stood in front
of this gigantic mural, literally overwhelmed, but we noticed that the left side seemed somehow to
come to an abrupt end. A guide informed us that the people who commissioned this immortal
painting from Rembrandt desired to hang it in their town hall, which they regarded as a place of
great significance. They therefore cut off a part of the masterpiece of Rembrandt in order to be

19
able to fit in onto the wall of their structure. So, they mutilated what history has come to regard as
something of inestimable value in order to decorate a building that has long since passed into well-
deserved oblivion! What a shattering distortion of priorities!

The outsider who approaches Judaism ready to play fast and loose with its most sacred institutions,
is the kind of person who is overly impressed with the fads and fashions of modernity, with the
"Town Halls" of his own life and is willing to mutilate the Rembrandt we call Torah, the spiritual
masterpiece that is the heritage of Judaism. The insider is willing to stake his life on the integrity
of this masterpiece and let the scoffers scoff all they will.

From this pulpit, on Yom Kippur eve just 40 years ago, a distinguished layman, Mr. Abraham E.
Rothstein, who was then President of The Center, said the following: "We are not here for the
purpose of improving the faith. Divine faith needs no improvement, any more than the Sun does.
What we are trying to do is improve our understanding of the faith. And once it is properly
understood, Judaism is safe and so are we."

This distinction between outsider and insider relates to scholarship as well. Unquestionably, more
knowledge of Judaism and more study is important. But if it is only to be the detached, uninvolved
study of the objective scholar, then one can study all he will and still remain an outsider! Only
genuine talmud torah can transform the outsider to the insider. The so-called "scientific"
scholarship of Judaism, the various Jewish study programs proliferating in universities throughout
the country, the whole discipline called Wissenschaft des Judenturn, are all important, but they are
the study of the outsider, not the insider. Without genuine commitment, such scholarship is an
autopsy, not an operation.

There is a certain internationally famous scholar, now retired from the Hebrew University in
Jerusalem, who has done pioneering work of the first rank in opening up a heretofore esoteric
branch of Jewish knowledge to study by moderns. He is a man of international reputation, well
deserved. But for years now he has refused to answer the question of whether he really believes in
what he is working in, whether he has any commitment to it. Despite his evasion, it seems obvious
that he does not -- for one thing, he is not an observant Jew. Yet his reputation is such that it has
piqued the curiosity of many. Several years ago, someone wrote a book and included a chapter
about him. In this chapter, he quotes a Rabbi of Jerusalem who says the following about all this
genre of "scientific scholars" of Judaism: "They are all accountants. Like accountants, they know
where the wealth is, its location and its value. But it doesn't belong to them. They can't use it."

This holds true not only for scholars, but for all of us as well. It is not enough to know about
Judaism; we have to possess and practice it. If you look at Judaism as an outsider, you can only be
an accountant -- even a competent accountant -- but no more. If you live it and love it as only an
insider can, you will be immeasurably rich!

Those of us who enter the sanctuary of Judaism and retain the detached point of view of the
outsider, simply observing those around us as if it were a scientific experiment, fail to see the life
pulsating in all that happens, its beauty and vitality. To be afraid to abandon the outsider view
within the House of God is to risk converting it into a museum -- or, worse, a mausoleum.

20
Indeed, it was the High Priest himself, the yery symbol of the insider, who uttered the prayer:

"May it by Thy will oh God... that their homes not become their graves." If one adopts an
"outsider's view" in his own home, or in the house of God, then all life ebbs out of it, and he has a
well-ordered grave, rather than a bustling, dynamic, and living organism. Conversely, the moment
of teshuvah comes when we do the reverse: when we exchange the feeling of the outsider for that
of the insider, when we suddenly discover in all the forms and observances and words and acts of
Judaism not mere mechanical motions, but something that is overbrimming with life and meaning
and warmth.

What must we do in order to avoid this fallacious and misleading conclusion about Jewish life, to
prevent people from thinking that the pious Jew is a prisoner in a jail called Judaism?

First, we must affix the mezuzah on the lishkat parhedrin; that is, we must do all we can to present
to those not heretofore exposed to Jewish life, the outsiders, the beauty of Jewish experiences. We
must show it as dignified, decorous, and esthetic. We must affix an attractive mezuzah to it.

Secondly, we who are insiders must reassure ourselves. A minority generally tends to adopt a view
of itself held by the majority, the outsiders. While occasionally this is a healthy practice and
restores perspective, it neutralizes narrow-mindedness, it must never become the standard way of
self-definition. It is self-destructive always to view oneself through the eyes of others. I know too
many observant Jews who always prefer to see themselves as others see us: from the secularist and
Reform to outright assimilationist Jews, from the benevolent anti-Judaists to the vicious anti-
Semites. When that happens, we begin to apologize for our beliefs, for our heritage, for our very
selves; then we wallow in self-pity about the heavy burden that destiny has fated for us; then we
begin to abandon real Judaism for what has been called "symbolic Judaism," with its few
ceremonies for special events and an occasional synagogue attendance - but nothing more. And
then we are in deep trouble, for then our inauthenticity shades over into apostasy. So let us
remember: no apologies and no self-pity! We are not captives in the sanctuary of Judaism — we
are its custodians. Torah is for us not a burden but a blessing. Judaism in not a jail, and Judaism is
not meant for masochists who should be forced to groan, "it is so difficult to be a Jew!" Quite the
contrary, Judaism is liberating, it is an emancipation! It is a release from dreariness and
vacuousness and profaneness and emptiness, from the endless routine of exercises in
insignificance.

Finally, while we are not missionaries, we ought to invite our fellow Jews who look in from
without -- to come in. A wine connoisseur does not judge the quality of a sample by the shape of
the bottle or the print on the label or the personality of the salesman. So can you not judge Judaism
by its esthetics or manners or whether or not you like the Rabbi. There is only one test: taste it! To
look is not enough. So does the Psalmist declare: "taste and see that the
Lord is good." It is not enough just to see -- one must also "taste." You cannot appreciate Judaism
until you taste it and experience it and live "before the Lord." Then it is unnecessary to be

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stimulated by artificial enticements, by the unnecessary mezuzah, by the superficial prop, by
externalia.

, blessed are those who come in the name of the Lord, seeking the Lord;
we bless you from inside the house of the Lord -- and invite you in!

Here, before the Lord, we will discover that we are not in a prison, but in a palace
full of pure spiritual pleasures and exquisite delights and the joy of life.

Taste and see — and we will discover "that the Lord is good."

His globalizing and pietistic critique of Scholem fails to understand the depths of the greatest
scholar of Jewish mysticism who garnished the respect of no less a scholar than Prof Shaul
Lieberman! To get a taste of th profundity of his worldview (albeit heretical) let us look at a good
review article:

Michael Fagenblatt writes:8

Scholem sought a profanation of Jewish history that would release its emancipatory potential, as
this diary entry from January 20, 1915 indicates:

Our guiding principle is revolution! Revolution everywhere! We don’t want reform or reeducation
but revolution or renewal. We desire to absorb revolution into our innermost souls. There are
external and internal revolutions, the former mainly aimed at family and home. … Above all, we
want to revolutionize Judaism. We want to revolutionize Zionism and to preach anarchism and
freedom from all authority. … We wish to rip away the formalistic façade from Zionism. … We
don’t want a state. We want a free society, and Herzl’s Old-New Land hasn’t a thing to do with
this. We as Jews know more than enough about the hideous idol called the state than to bow down
and offer up prayers to it once again, nor will we deliver up our progeny to be willing sacrifices
to its insatiable greed for possession and power. We Jews are not a people of the state, nor are
people from the other nations. We do not wish to go to Palestine to found a state, thereby forging
new chains out of the old. O you miserable little philistines! We want to go to Palestine for freedom
and longing for the future. The future belongs to the Orient.

Like his anarchic Zionism, Scholem’s interest in the Kabbalah was motivated by his conviction
that freedom demands profanation, not just secularization. The eighteen year old Scholem
understood what Agamben, Schmitt and others would make explicit, namely that history and
politics, historicism and nationalism, can readily be conscripted to sanctify secular authority.
Where kings, priests and scribes have been removed there enter politicians and professors,
bureaucrats, and scientists, leaving authority fundamentally intact.

8 Frankism and Frankfurtism: Historical Heresies for a Metaphysics of Our Most Intimate Experiences op cit 25

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But if Scholem turned to the Kabbalah to profane historicism and nationalism, of what does the
resulting “metaphysics” of “our most human experiences” consist? In the course of time Scholem
vacillated between two answers to this question: religious anarchism and nihilism. David Biale has
recently proposed that Scholem was “not a nihilist, that is, someone who rejects all authority,” but
a “religious anarchist” for whom “tradition still has authority, even if it does not speak with one
voice and even if the modern Jew need not obey the laws the tradition attributes to divine
revelation.”13 Pawel Maciejko, on the other hand, argues that Scholem was a nihilist because
“every form of Jewish religious practice is, in the last analysis, unsatisfactory and only provisional;
that every interpretation of Revelation is ultimately a misreading; or that any attempt to create a
successful structure of Jewish life is futile.”14 Eric Jacobson has shown that Scholem never
entirely resolved the matter, oscillating between several competing variants.15

I think we should conclude that for Scholem anarchism was associated with Zionism, while
nihilism resulted from the realization that anarchist Judaism was not viable in the form of Zionism
as it developed from, say, the early 1930’s. In other words, Scholem was a religious anarchist in
principle and became, in light of historical developments, a theological nihilist in practice, falling
on his own metaphysical sword in the face of the theocratic secular nationalisms that emerged
around him. A self-described “sworn and implacable foe of Europe and a follower of the New
Orient (which will carry a new Judah on its mighty shoulders),” Scholem’s religious anarchism
was meant “to bring us together with other creative peoples of the Orient.”16 But when history
didn’t quite work out that way, his theology resorted to an absolutely solitary “metaphysics,”
having no social, political or historical significance, stripping “our most human experiences” of its
intrinsic sociality. What is more, in fleeing anarchism for nihilism he found – or, rather, placed –
himself in the footsteps of the Messiah, for like “the ‘believers’ [in Sabbatai Zevi], those who
remained loyal to their inward experience, were compelled to find an answer to the simple
question: what could be the value of historical reality that had proved to be so bitterly disappointing
[– as Zionism had become for him –], and how might it be related to the hopes it had betrayed.

Scholem’s answer to the question of what comes after history was nihilism, and it was confirmed
by the almost syllogistic simplicity of his interpretation of Sabbatianism. On the basis of plausible
historicophenomenological claims regarding Sabbatianism, he argued (a) that for “the believers”
who followed Sabbatai Zevi, revelation and redemption were historically fulfilled by his advent as
Messiah; (b) that history remained (and remains) fundamentally unaltered after the messianic
advent; and therefore that (c) history becomes entirely devoid of messianic significance. The
conclusion Scholem reached is that revelation withdraws to, or remains, only in the realm of
Innerlichkeit, inwardness, a realm void of historical significance. In Maciejko’s words, Scholem
thought that Sabbatianism brings about “the radical depreciation of the world of history: if the
Messiah is already here, if Revelation has reached its fulfillment, there is nothing more men should
(or can) do. Consequently, it leads to ‘mystical nihilism’.”18 Having become fulfilled and yet
unaltered, the history of Sabbatianism brings about a complete dehistoricization of Revelation and
Redemption. In this way Scholem’s own research satisfies both the “compelling need for a critique
of history and for historical criticism”. Does it “lie on the narrow boundary between religion and
nihilism”? Scholem thought so, but this can be doubted. For “religion” remains socially and
historically oriented, whereas that is precisely what Scholem negates by virtue of the bitterly
disappointing revelations of historical redemption, first in Sabbatianism and then in Zionism. If

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Scholem remained on the narrow boundary between religion and nihilism, he leaned toward
nihilism. It was Franz Rosenzweig who first diagnosed this:

His Judaism is for him [Scholem] only a monastery. In there he practises his spiritual exercises
and essentially does not – despite occasional remarks – care for people. Accordingly, he becomes
speechless. He has only the gesture of affirmation or rejection, in reality only the gesture and this
gesture. […] I have never encountered anything like that among Western Jews. Possibly, he is the
only one who has really returned home. But he has returned home alone. 19

Maciejko calls this “the most profound critique of Scholem ever formulated” of Scholem’s
“mystical nihilism”, and I agree. Scholem’s critique of historicism for a “metaphysics” of “our
most human experiences” renders those very experiences speechless and solitary; pure revelation
becomes devoid of social, political and historical significance. For most of his life Scholem stood
on the wooden bridge between religion and nihilism, between the village (of Judaism) and the
(mystical) Castle, gazing into the apparent emptiness. His metaphysical achievement involves the
negation of worldliness.

Notes

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