Daf Ditty Megillah 26: Selling the Town Square

Painting depicting the Forum in ancient Rome

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MISHNA: Residents of a town who sold the town square, which was at times used for public
prayer and therefore attained a certain degree of sanctity, may use the proceeds of the sale only to
purchase something of a greater degree of sanctity. They may therefore purchase a synagogue
with the proceeds of the sale. If they sold a synagogue, they may purchase an ark in which to
house sacred scrolls. If they sold an ark, they may purchase wrapping cloths for the sacred
scrolls. If they sold wrapping cloths,

they may purchase scrolls of the Prophets and the Writings. If they sold scrolls of the Prophets
and Writings, they may purchase a Torah scroll.

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However, the proceeds of a sale of a sacred item may not be used to purchase an item of a lesser
degree of sanctity. Therefore, if they sold a Torah scroll, they may not use the proceeds to
purchase scrolls of the Prophets and the Writings. If they sold scrolls of the Prophets and
Writings, they may not purchase wrapping cloths. If they sold wrapping cloths, they may not
purchase an ark. If they sold an ark, they may not purchase a synagogue. If they sold a
synagogue, they may not purchase a town square.

And similarly, the same limitation applies to any surplus funds from the sale of sacred items,
i.e., if after selling an item and purchasing something of a greater degree of sanctity there remain
additional, unused funds, the leftover funds are subject to the same principle and may be used to
purchase only something of a degree of sanctity greater than that of the original item.

GEMARA: The mishna states: Residents of a town who sold the town square may purchase a
synagogue with the proceeds. Concerning this mishna, Rabba bar bar Ḥana said that Rabbi
Yoḥanan said: This is the statement of Rabbi Menaḥem bar Yosei, cited unattributed.
However, the Rabbis say: The town square does not have any sanctity. Therefore, if it is sold,
the residents may use the money from the sale for any purpose.

And Rabbi Menaḥem bar Yosei, what is his reason for claiming that the town square has
sanctity? Since the people pray in the town square on communal fast days and on non-priestly

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watches, it is defined as a place of prayer and as such has sanctity. And the Rabbis, why do they
disagree? They maintain that use of the town square is merely an irregular occurrence.
Consequently, the town square is not to be defined as a place of prayer, and so it has no sanctity.

§ The mishna states: If they sold a synagogue, they may purchase an ark. The Gemara cites a
qualification to this halakha: Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥmani said that Rabbi Yonatan said: They
taught this only with regard to a synagogue of a village, which is considered the property of the
residents of that village. However, with regard to a synagogue of a city, since people come to it
from the outside world, the residents of the city are not able to sell it, because it is considered
to be the property of the public at large and does not belong exclusively to the residents of the
city.

Summary

Introduction1

The first three mishnayot of this chapter deal with the holiness of the synagogue and the articles
found in it. Our mishnah deals with what one may do with the proceeds of a sale of the synagogue
or the things in it.

Townspeople who sold the town square, they may buy with the proceeds a synagogue. [If
they sold] a synagogue, they may buy with the proceeds an ark. [If they sold] an ark they
may buy covers [for scrolls]. (1) [If they sold] covers, they may buy scrolls [of the Tanakh].
([If they sold] scrolls they may buy a Torah.

One can sell an object and buy something that is somewhat holier. The town square has some
holiness to it because it is occasionally used for gathering in prayer, such as during a public fast
(see Taanit 2:1). “Scrolls” refers to books of the Tanakh not part of the Five Books of Moses.

But if they sold a Torah, they may not buy with the proceeds scrolls [of the Tanakh]. (If [they
sold] scrolls they may not buy covers. (1) If [they sold] covers they may not buy an ark. If

1https://www.sefaria.org/Megillah.25b.20?lang=bi&p2=Mishnah_Megillah.3.1&lang2=bi&w2=English%20Explanation%20of%
20Mishnah&lang3=en

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[they sold] an ark they may not buy a synagogue. If [they sold] a synagogue they may not
buy a town square.

Conversely, one cannot sell an object and buy something with an object of less holiness.

The same applies to any money left over.

If there is money left over from a permitted sale, then they must still use that money to buy
something with greater holiness. Thus, if they sell covers and use the proceeds to buy scrolls and
there is money left over, they must use the proceeds to buy other scrolls, or a Torah.

They may not sell [something] belonging to a community because this lowers its sanctity, the
words of Rabbi Meir. They said to him: if so, it should not be allowed to sell from a larger
town to a smaller one.

According to Rabbi Meir there is an additional restriction when it comes to selling holy items. The
community cannot sell an item that belongs to the community to an individual. So, if the members
of the synagogue own scrolls and they wish to sell them to buy a Torah, they may not sell the
scrolls to an individual. This means that according to Rabbi Meir there seems to be holiness in the
community. The item is more holy because it is owned by a community, an entity which has greater
holiness than an individual. Alternatively, an item is holier if it is used by more people. The other
sages respond that it is problematic to quantify holiness based on the number of people within an
entity. If a community is holier than an individual, than a large community is holier than a small
community. Since this doesn’t make sense, the sages reject Rabbi Meir’s halakhah altogether.

Does Sanctity Last? Creating - and Discarding - What is Meaningful

Based on a new Mishna, we learn about two issues today.2 First, the rabbis discuss village shuls
that are to be sold. Does a synagogue maintain its sanctity after being sold? Are we permitted to
sell a synagogue or other things that have been imbued with sanctity? The second discussion
focuses on sanctity in general. Do items lose their sanctity? Which items? How can we reuse
articles that protected G-d's name? Does anyone own property in Jerusalem?

Although the specifics of the rabbis' conversations are fascinating, today's daf stirs up questions
about today's practices of ownership, sanctification of animate objects, and the nature of holiness.

Can an item hold on to its sanctity? Why would some items maintain their quality of holiness
while others cannot?

I have wondered about the seder plate. The maror, the beitza, the charoset - these foods became
much larger than foods during the seder. They were metaphors, representations of our physical,
psychological and emotional states. The meaning imbued upon those foods created a sanctity; a

2 http://dafyomibeginner.blogspot.com/2014/08/

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power surrounding them. And at the end of the seder, what are we to do - throw them into the
compost with other wasted food? I have been told in the past to hold on to those items, watch
them wither, and note when and how their meanings change over time. According to today's daf,
though, we should be composting those foods without a second thought. They are not directly
protecting the name of G-d, and thus they lose their sanctity at the end of the seder.

When the rabbis worry about selling a synagogue in a village, they are not worried about the
potential desecration of a sacred place. They are concerned that a publicly owned property might
be sold without the consent of the myriad of owners/community members.

The rabbis do note that an old or broken synagogue should not be torn down until a new synagogue
has been built. This can become problematic if the new synagogue is being constructed using
materials from the old synagogue.

The idea of sanctity is particularly fraught with challenges within Jewish thought. Other than G-
d's name, we are not to think of sanctified objects as particularly powerful. That fleeting power
suggests that we are the ones who create holiness with our intentions and our conscious use of
items.

G-d's name is different - and so Torah scrolls, and anything used to protect the words written in
Torah are to be used with great care. When old or broken, those items must be reused in a role
that is similarly sanctified. For example, Torah covers that protect G-d's name can be ripped and
used to cover the body of one without means who has died. But frayed fringes on a tallit need not
be buried; they did not protect G-d's written name and thus they can be discarded.

Today's daf is exactly what I hoped to learn when I began learning Talmud. Hopefully tomorrow's
learning will continue along this line of questioning!

Rav Avrohom Adler writes:

Incidental to the laws of the reading of the Megillah and the Torah, this chapter of the Tractate
deals with the laws pertaining to the sanctity of the synagogue. This Mishna states that the proceeds
from the sale of a sanctified object assumes the level of sanctity previously possessed by the object
and may be used only in the purchase of an article of a higher level of sanctity in accordance with
the principle applicable to all sacred matters, that we ascend, but to not descend.
If the residents of the town sold the open place of the town, they may purchase a synagogue with
its money. If they sold a synagogue, they may purchase an ark. If they sold an ark, they may
purchase wraps for the Torah. If they sold wraps, they may purchase the books of Prophets and
Writings. If they sold books, they may purchase a Torah. But if they sold a Torah, they may not
purchase the books of Prophets and Writings.

If they sold books, they may not purchase wraps. If they sold wraps, they may not purchase an ark.
If they sold an ark, they may not purchase a synagogue. If they sold the synagogue, they may not
purchase the open place, and similarly with their surpluses.

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The Mishna had stated: If the residents of the town sold the open place of the town, they may
purchase a synagogue with its money. This assumes that the open space of the city has sanctity.
This is a matter of dispute between Rabbi Menachem and the Chachamim. Rabbi Menachem
maintains that it has sanctity because the nation prays there on fast days and by the Ma’amados.
The Chachamim hold that it does not have sanctity because they do not pray there on a regular
basis.

The Mishna had stated: If they sold a synagogue, they may purchase an ark. Rabbi Shmuel bar
Nachmeini says in the name of Rabbi Yonasan: This ruling is only correct if it was a synagogue
located in a village, where the local residents have a right to sell it; however, regarding a synagogue
located in a city, the residents do not have a right to sell it because people come from the outside
world, and therefore are considered partners in the synagogue.

The Gemora asks from the following braisa: It is said, and I will place a tzaraas plague in a house
of the land of your inheritance. The Tanna Kamma maintains that the verse implies that only your
inheritance, i.e., a house that is on the land that was appropriated to the original settlers of Eretz
Yisroel is susceptible to the tumah of tzaraas, whereas a house in Jerusalem, which is not
considered to be your inheritance, is not susceptible to tumah of tzaraas. Rabbi Yehudah, however,
maintains that only the site of the Beis Hamikdosh is not susceptible to tumah of tzaraas because
it belongs to Hashem and is not regarded as your inheritance. Rabbi Yehudah implies that
synagogues and study halls in Jerusalem are susceptible to tzaraas, even though they are urban,
yet according to Rabbi Shmuel, urban synagogues may not be sold because they are not owned by
an individual and therefore should not be susceptible to tzaraas.

The Gemora answers that Rabbi Yehudah really meant that only a sacred site, which includes
synagogues, study halls and the Beis Hamikdosh, are not susceptible to tumah of tzaraas. The
Gemora explains the argument between the Tanna Kamma and Rabbi Yehudah. The Tanna
Kamma maintains that Jerusalem was not divided up amongst the tribes of Israel, so a house in
Jerusalem is not considered as a house of the land of your inheritance, and therefore it will not be
susceptible to tumah of tzaraas.

Rabbi Yehudah, however, maintains that Jerusalem was divided up amongst the tribes of Israel
and therefore regular buildings in Jerusalem are susceptible to tumah of tzaraas. Synagogues, study
halls and the Beis Hamikdosh, however, do not belong to any individual or group and therefore
they are exempted from the laws of tzaraas tumah.
A braisa states that the Temple Mount, the Chambers, and the Courtyards of the Beis Hamikdosh
were located in the portion of the tribe of Yehudah. The Ulam, the Heichal, and the Chamber of
the Holy of Holies were located in the portion of the tribe of Binyamin. A strip of land extended
from the portion of Yehudah and entered into the portion of Binyamin, and the mizbeach was built
on that portion.

Binyamin the Righteous foresaw the intrusion of Yehudah into his territory and this caused him
great distress, and Binyamin desired to absorb that strip into his territory as it is said in the blessing
that Moshe conferred on the tribe of Binyamin, he agonizes over it all day long. Since Binyamin
was distressed about this, he merited becoming host to the Divine Presence, as it is said and
between his (Binyamin’s) shoulders does He (Hashem) rest.

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This description of the Beis Hamikdosh complex supports the opinion that Jerusalem was divided
up amongst the tribes of Israel. A different braisa states that one cannot rent out houses in
Jerusalem because the houses do not belong exclusively to the owners. Rather, the houses and all
of Jerusalem are owned by the entire Jewish People. Rabbi Elozar bar Tzadok maintains that they
could not even lease out the beds because the land on which the beds stood belonged to all the
tribes and the owner of the bed could not lease out the bed for a full rental fee. To compensate the
innkeepers for this loss in revenue, the innkeepers were permitted to take the hides from the
pilgrim’s offerings.

It is clear from this braisa that forbids renting houses in Jerusalem that Jerusalem was not divided
up amongst the tribes of Israel. We also derive from the braisa that when one leaves his host, it is
proper to leave the jug which he used while staying at his host and he should also leave for his host
the hide of any animal that he may have slaughtered. The Chachamim made this law regarding the
pilgrims to Jerusalem so that the hosts would be welcoming to their guests.

Rava qualifies the ruling of the Mishna: If the synagogue was sold by the seven trustees of the
town in the presence of the townspeople, the proceeds may be used even to drink beer with it. The
Gemora records an incident with Ravina which indicates that when the synagogue was sold by the
seven trustees of the town in the presence of the townspeople, the synagogue site may be used for
planting or other activities (even though it is a disrespectful activity and would have been forbidden
if it was not sold by the trustees or in the presence of the townspeople).

The Gemora rules that one may not destroy a synagogue until he builds another synagogue, even
if the destruction was for the purpose of building another one (such as, using the bricks and beams
from the old synagogue). We are concerned that after the destruction of the old synagogue, he will
neglect to build the new one, thus leaving the community without a synagogue to pray in.

The Gemora cites a braisa: Objects used for a mitzvah may be discarded (they are not regarded as
sacred), while objects used for holiness are hidden away. The following are objects used for a
mitzvah: sukkah, lulav, shofar and tzitzis. The following are objects used for holiness: sacks for
seforim, for tefillin and mezuzos, a sefer Torah case, a tefillin case, and their straps. (26b)

Rava said: Initially, I believed that the bimah was an accessory of an accessory for a sacred object
(the Torah, since there is a covering on top of the bimah). When I saw that there are times that they
place the Torah directly upon it, I considered it to be an accessory for a sacred object and therefore
one would be prohibited from using it for non-sacred purposes.

Rava said: Initially, I believed that the inner curtain of the ark was an accessory of an accessory
for a sacred object. When I saw that there are times that they fold it and place a sefer Torah upon
it, I considered it to be an accessory for a sacred object and therefore one would be prohibited from
using it for non-sacred purposes.

Rava said: One is permitted to construct a smaller ark from an ark which broke apart; however, to
construct a bimah out of it would be forbidden.

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RABBI NEUSTADT writes:

Question: What are the rules for disposing of tashmish d’tashmishei kedushah and tashmish
d’tashmishei mitzvah objects?

Discussion:

This lowest category of ritual objects includes those items which are not directly involved in either
the kedushah itself or in the direct performance of a mitzvah.

The basic halachah holds that once these items are no longer fit for use, or once the mitzvah that
they were used for is no longer applicable, they have no significance whatsoever and require no
special method of disposal.

It is still recommended by many poskim, however, that in order to show honor and respect to a
mitzvah, it is appropriate to dispose of these items in a dignified manner only.

The following items may be discarded in any manner, but it is recommended that they be disposed
of with respect:

• A Kiddush cup (“becher”) — used for Kiddush and Havdalah only

• A bimah
• A bimah cover, plastic A bookcase (used exclusively for sifrei kodesh)

"MA'ALIN B'KODESH V'LO MORIDIN"

Rav Mordechai Kornfeld writes:3

The Mishnah teaches that money received from the sale of a Sefer Torah may not be used to buy
scrolls of Nevi'im and Kesuvim. RASHI (DH Aval) explains that the reason is because "Ma'alin
b'Kodesh v'Lo Moridin." Hence, the money may be used to buy only an item of greater Kedushah
and not one of lesser Kedushah.

Rashi cites a Tosefta which records sources for the two parts of the principle, "Ma'alin b'Kodesh
v'Lo Moridin." The specific requirement of "Ma'alin b'Kodesh" (that the level of Kedushah must
be raised) is derived from the construction of the Mishkan. Betzalel built the Mishkan, and Moshe
Rabeinu -- who was greater than Betzalel -- erected it. The specific requirement of "Lo Moridin"
(that the level of Kedushah may not be lowered) is derived from the Machtos (copper pans) from
which the copper-plating of the Mizbe'ach was fashioned. Those Machtos were the pans in which
Korach, and his accomplices brought their incense offering. (The Gemara in Menachos (99a) also

3 https://dafyomi.co.il/megilah/insites/mg-dt-026.htm

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records the sources for "Ma'alin b'Kodesh v'Lo Moridin." The Girsa there differs from the Girsa
of the Tosefta which Rashi cites.)

Why are two separate sources for the principle of "Ma'alin b'Kodesh v'Lo Moridin" necessary?
The source that teaches "Ma'alin b'Kodesh" implies that one may not decrease in sanctity ("v'Lo
Moridin")!
Moreover, why does Rashi here need to cite the source for this principle? "Ma'alin b'Kodesh v'Lo
Moridin" is mentioned in many other places in the Gemara. Why specifically here does Rashi
mention the source?

The BA'AL HA'ME'OR and other Rishonim are bothered by an apparent contradiction in the
Mishnah itself. The beginning of the Mishnah states that money received from the sale of scrolls
of Nevi'im and Kesuvim may be used only to purchase Sifrei Torah (which have a greater
Kedushah). This implies that the money may not be used to buy other Sifrei Nevi'im (which have
an equal Kedushah).

However, the end of the Mishnah states that money received from the sale of scrolls of Nevi'im
and Kesuvim may not be used to buy Mitpachos (coverings for a Sefer Torah, which have a lesser
Kedushah). This implies that the money may be used to buy other scrolls of Nevi'im (an equal
Kedushah)!

The BACH and MAGEN AVRAHAM (OC 153:2) explain that both implications are correct.
The beginning of the Mishnah teaches the Halachah l'Chatchilah, and the end of the Mishnah
teaches the Halachah b'Di'eved: The beginning of the Mishnah teaches that, l'Chatchilah, one may
not sell a holy object unless he intends to use its value to buy something of greater Kedushah (and
not just of equal Kedushah).

However, if, b'Di'eved, one sold a holy object when nothing of greater Kedushah was available for
purchase, he may buy something of equal Kedushah. The money may not be used to buy an object
of lesser Kedushah, even b'Di'eved.

(The Bach and Magen Avraham assert that this is the intention of the RAN. However,
the TAZ and VILNA GA'ON point out that this does not seem to be the Ran's opinion. According
to the Ran, one must purchase an item of greater Kedushah even b'Di'eved, if he already sold a
holy object.)

Perhaps this question is what motivates Rashi to explain here that the principle of "Ma'alin
b'Kodesh v'Lo Moridin" includes two separate rules. The first rule is that the level of Kedushah
must be raised, and the second rule is that the level of Kedushah may not be lowered. Rashi
explains that "Ma'alin b'Kodesh" means that l'Chatchilah the Kedushah must be raised, but
b'Di'eved it is acceptable if one remains with an equal Kedushah. "Lo Moridin" means that even
b'Di'eved the Kedushah may not be lowered.

The verses cited by the Tosefta teach these two rules. "Ma'alin b'Kodesh" is derived from the fact
that Betzalel built the Mishkan, and Moshe Rabeinu erected it. The verse does not say that Betzalel
was prohibited from erecting it, but simply that Moshe Rabeinu erected it. This implies that it is

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preferable l'Chatchilah to rise in Kedushah, but b'Di'eved it would have been acceptable for
Betzalel (the same level of Kedushah) to erect the Mishkan. The verses of the Machtos of Korach
teach that one is prohibited from using the pans for a non-sanctified purpose because they were
used in the past for an offering to Hash-m and their Kedushah cannot be removed. For that reason,
Moshe was instructed to plate the Mizbe'ach with their copper. Those verses teach that even
b'Di'eved the Kedushah may not be lowered.

BINYAMIN'S REWARD4

The Beraisa says that Binyamin was distressed when he learned that his portion of Eretz Yisrael
would not contain all parts of the Beis ha'Mikdash and Mizbe'ach. In his portion would be only
the Mizbe'ach and the parts of the Beis ha'Mikdash to the west of the Mizbe'ach, while in the
portion of Yehudah would be the parts of the Beis ha'Mikdash to the east of the Mizbe'ach and a
strip right beneath the eastern (and southern) base of the Mizbe'ach. Binyamin was distressed that
he would receive only part of the Mizbe'ach and not the entire Mizbe'ach.

As reward for his strong desire to have all of the parts of the Beis ha'Mikdash in his portion,
Binyamin merited "to become the host for the Almighty." RASHI explains that this means that
"the Aron ha'Kodesh was placed in his portion."

The MAHARSHA (in Zevachim 53b) asks that if Binyamin saw that his portion of land would
contain most of the Mizbe'ach except for one small strip on the eastern side of the Mizbe'ach, then
certainly he knew that the Mizbe'ach and the area to the west of it would all be in his portion.
Accordingly, he already knew that the Aron ha'Kodesh would be in his portion. What, then, does
the Gemara mean when it says that Binyamin was rewarded for his feelings of distress by having
the Aron ha'Kodesh in his portion? It was already in his portion!

(a) Hash-m revealed to Binyamin that both he and Yehudah would have parts of the Mizbe'ach in
their respective portions. Binyamin, however, did not know exactly how this distribution would
be executed. All he knew was that he would share the Mizbe'ach with Yehudah. Since he so
strongly desired to have all of the Beis ha'Mikdash in his portion, he merited to receive the area to
the side of the Mizbe'ach that contained the Aron ha'Kodesh.

(b) The TORAH TEMIMAH (Devarim 33:12) gives a different explanation for what the Gemara
means when it says that Binyamin merited "to become the host for the Almighty."

The Gemara in Zevachim (118b) says that the Shechinah dwelled among the Jewish people in
three places: in the Mishkan in Shilo, in Nov and Giv'on, and in the Beis ha'Mikdash in
Yerushalayim. All three places were in the portion of Binyamin. Binyamin foresaw that he would
have the Aron ha'Kodesh in his portion in the Beis ha'Mikdash, while Yehudah would have in his
portion only a strip from the Mizbe'ach. As reward for his distress that the eastern base of the

4
See Daf Ditty Megillah 16 “Benjamin’s Preferential Treatment (www.jyungar.com/dafditty)

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Mizbe'ach would not be in his portion, Binyamin merited that the other places in which the Aron
ha'Kodesh would reside would be in his portion as well. (This may be the intention of Rashi here.)

REMOVING THE "KEDUSHAH" FROM A "BEIS

HA'KENESES" BY SELLING IT
Ravina sought to sow an area of his property on which stood the ruins of a Beis ha'Keneses. Rav
Ashi advised him that if he wanted to sow it, he should purchase the Beis ha'Keneses from the
"seven leaders of the city, in the presence of the assembly of the entire city."

The Gemara shortly afterwards teaches that one may sell or barter a Beis ha'Keneses because the
Kedushah of the Beis ha'Keneses will be transferred to the money or object which is received in
return (Rashi DH Chilufei). This implies that when one sells a Beis ha'Keneses, its Kedushah is
removed from it and is transferred to the money with which it is purchased.

The Gemara must be referring to a situation in which the Beis ha'Keneses was not sold by the
seven leaders in the presence of the entire city, because under such circumstances the Kedushah
is not transferred to the money at all; rather, the Kedushah of the Beis ha'Keneses simply "departs
by itself" and no Kedushah is left at all on the Beis ha'Keneses or on the funds used to purchase it
(as the Gemara says at the end of 26a: "even beer may be purchased with the money..."). The
Gemara which discusses the transferal of Kedushah must be discussing a Beis ha'Keneses which
was sold only by the seven leaders, or only by the other people of the city, but not by both.

Why, then, was it necessary for Ravina to purchase the Beis ha'Keneses in the presence of the
seven leaders and the entire city? He wanted merely to use the ruins of the Beis ha'Keneses for
other purposes by transferring its Kedushah onto money. He was not interested in ensuring that
the money from the purchase would be fit to be used for all purposes. (See GILYON HA'SHAS to
Rashi, 26a.)

(a) The RAMBAN and RITVA explain that the Beis ha'Keneses indeed did not need to be sold
by the seven leaders in the presence of the entire city. However, Rav Ashi realized that the people
of the town would not be interested in selling the Beis ha'Keneses if they would not be able to use
the money for any purpose other than for the purchase of Sifrei Torah and other objects of a
Kedushah greater than that of a Beis ha'Keneses. He therefore advised that the Beis ha'Keneses be
sold by the seven leaders in the presence of the entire city so that the funds generated by the sale
could be used for any purpose.

(The Ritva adds that perhaps Rav Ashi instructed that it be sold by the seven leaders "in the
presence of the entire city" only to emphasize the fact that if Ravina does not purchase it
in some manner, he would not be permitted to sow it.)

According to this explanation, the Kedushah of the Beis ha'Keneses indeed is removed from the
Beis ha'Keneses even when it is sold without the seven leaders in the presence of the entire city.
This is not consistent with the view of Rashi who clearly writes (end of 26a) that the Kedushah is
transferred from the Beis ha'Keneses only when it is sold by the seven leaders in the presence of
the entire city.

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(b) The ROSH and RAN (based on the RAMBAM in Hilchos Tefilah 11:17) also explain that the
Kedushah is transferred from the Beis ha'Keneses even when it is sold without the seven leaders
in the presence of the entire city. However, the act of sowing the ground of a ruined Beis
ha'Keneses is particularly disrespectful, and it falls into the same category as making it into a
bathhouse (which the Chachamim (27b) prohibit even after the Kedushah is removed). When the
Beis ha'Keneses is sold by the seven leaders before the entire city, it may even be sown or
converted into a bathhouse. This is why Rav Ashi advised selling the Beis ha'Keneses with the
seven leaders before the entire city.

Rashi, however, implies that no Kedushah is removed from the Beis ha'Keneses when it is sold
without the seven leaders before the entire city. When it is not sold by the seven leaders before the
entire city, it may not be used for any purpose other than as a Beis ha'Keneses. Apparently, Rashi
has another way to answer this question.

(c) The TOSFOS RID (Mahadura Tinyana) suggests that the Beis ha'Keneses originally belonged
to a major city. Although such Batei Keneses normally may not be sold (26a), they may be
purchased from the seven leaders in the presence of the entire city.

(d) According to an alternate Girsa which the RAN cites, when a Beis ha'Keneses is sold by the
seven leaders before the entire city "one is permitted to drink beer and spread-out fruits to
dry inside the area of the Beis ha'Keneses."

This Girsa may explain why it was necessary for Ravina to purchase the Beis ha'Keneses in the
presence of the seven leaders and the entire city. According to this Girsa, when a Beis ha'Keneses
is sold by the seven leaders before the entire city, the Kedushah of the Beis ha'Keneses is removed
but not the Kedushah of the funds received through the sale. Perhaps the Kedushah of the Beis
ha'Keneses is transferred to the money even when it is sold by the seven leaders before the entire
city, and that is the case to which the Gemara refers when it discusses the transferal of Kedushah
when selling, trading, or giving away a Beis ha'Keneses (as the RIF there implies; see Ran).

When a Beis ha'Keneses is sold by the seven leaders not in the presence of the entire city, the
Kedushah remains on both the Beis ha’Keneses, and the money received for it. When sold by the
seven leaders in the presence of the entire city, the Kedushah remains only on the money received,
but not on the Beis ha'Keneses itself -- which is why Ravina needed to buy the Beis ha'Keneses
from the seven leaders before the entire city.

This answer is not consistent with the words of Rashi, who clearly explains that the Gemara is
lenient with both the Kedushah of the Beis ha'Keneses and the Kedushah of the funds received
from its sale.

Nevertheless, Rashi may understand that the funds lose their Kedushah only through a two-step
process, as the RAN suggests (26b). First, the Kedushah is transferred from the Beis ha'Keneses
to the money, which acquires a lesser degree of Kedushah than the original Kedushah of the Beis
ha'Keneses. Second, the seven leaders in the presence of the entire city are authorized to "remove"
this lesser Kedushah from the money. When the Gemara (26b) discusses "transferring" the

13
Kedushah of the Beis ha'Keneses by selling or bartering it, it means that when the Beis ha'Keneses
is sold by the seven leaders before the entire city the Kedushah is first transferred to the money
and then removed from the money by the authority of the seven leaders before the entire city. (M.
Kornfeld)

THE COVERINGS OF A HOLY OBJECT

Rava says that the coverings of Chumashim and of Sifrei Torah are considered Tashmishei
Kedushah. Therefore, when they wear out, they may not be discarded or used for other purposes,
but they must be placed into Genizah.

The Gemara asks that such coverings obviously are Tashmishei Kedushah. What does Rava intend
to teach? The Gemara answers that one might have thought that these coverings are not made with
intention to give honor to the Sefarim but rather merely to protect them, and thus they are not
considered Tashmishei Kedushah. Rava teaches that they are Tashmishei Kedushah.

The Gemara's conclusion is unclear. Does the Gemara mean to say that Rava teaches that these
coverings indeed are made to give honor to the Sefarim and thus they are Tashmishei Kedushah,
or that even though they are made only to protect the Sefarim they still have the status of
Tashmishei Kedushah?

The OR ZARU'A (cited by the HAGAHOS ASHIRI and MORDECHAI) explains that Rava's
intention is to teach that these coverings are made to give honor to the Sefarim.

The Or Zaru'a therefore rules that an Aron ha'Kodesh which is formed by constructing an
indentation in the wall of the synagogue for the purpose of protecting the Sefer Torah
is not considered a Tashmish Kedushah, since its main purpose is to protect the Sefer Torah and
not to honor it.

The BI'UR HALACHAH (OC 154, DH Aval Aron) cites other Rishonim (ME'IRI, RABEINU
YERUCHAM) who explain that Rava means that even though these coverings are made only for
the purpose of protecting the Sefarim, nevertheless they are considered Tashmishei Kedushah.
According to this explanation, an Aron ha'Kodesh built into the wall of the synagogue must be
treated like any other Tashmish Kedushah, since something made to protect a Sefer Torah is also
considered a Tashmish Kedushah.

HALACHAH: The REMA (OC 154:3) rules like the Or Zaru'a with regard to an Aron ha'Kodesh
formed by making an indentation in the wall of the synagogue. The MISHNAH
BERURAH (154:16), however, points out that if a beautiful Aron ha'Kodesh is built in the
indentation, it certainly gives honor to the Torah and is considered a Tashmish Kedushah.

(The Rema's ruling may apply to the common practice in many Yeshivos and Batei Midrash in
Eretz Yisrael today which keep their Sifrei Torah in a large, steel safe inside the Aron ha'Kodesh.
This steel Aron does not give honor to the Sefer Torah but merely protects it, and therefore it
should not be considered a Tashmish Kedushah.)

14
Steinzaltz (OBM) writes:5

The fourth Perek of Masechet Megillah focuses on the synagogue. Batei Knesset as places of
prayer existed even while the Temple was still standing. In fact, on the Temple Mount itself there
was a synagogue where people would participate in communal prayer and public Torah reading
while the sacrificial service was being performed by the kohanim in the mikdash.

The community synagogue served other functions as well, including a schoolhouse for children
and a gathering place for members of the community to hear the teachings of the Rabbis or to deal
with communal issues such as charity. Our Perek examines the holiness invested in these
structures, what appropriate behavior in them should be, how they should be treated when they fall
into disuse, and whether they can be sold or traded.

The first Mishnah teaches that an object of kedusha – holiness – can only be sold if something
with a higher level of kedusha will be purchased with the proceeds. Rava teaches, however, that if
the community leaders – the shiv’ah tovei ha’ir – arrange the sale of a synagogue with the approval
of the community, it can even be used lemishta ba-ben shikra – to drink beer.

According to Rashi and Rabbeinu Chananel, this ruling permits the funds received by the
community in exchange for the synagogue to be used for any purpose – even for purchasing
beer. Rabbeinu Yehonatan, the Ran and others have a variant reading in the Gemara. They read it
as lemishta ba-ben shikra – to drink beer in them – which would seem to mean that once the
synagogue is sold properly, it can be used for any purpose, even as a beer hall.

After serious examination of the rulings presented by the Gemara on this topic,
the Ramban concludes that a synagogue does not contain inherent holiness; rather,
the kedusha that is invested therein stems from its use as a place of study and prayer. Once the
building has been sold in a manner accepted by the Sages and it is no longer being used for such
purposes, the holiness is no longer extant, and it can be used for any purpose.

Rabbi Johnny Solomon writes:6

We generally assume that once an item has been sanctified for sacred purposes, it is then
considered to be sacred. However, as I shall soon explain such a statement is imprecise, and beyond
this, in order to show respect to the most sacred of items, our Sages – as explained in our daf
(Megillah 26b) - drew clear distinctions between the most sacred (Kedusha) of items (eg. a Sefer
Torah), those items used to serve or beautify the most sacred (otherwise known as Tashmishei

5 https://www.ou.org/life/torah/masechet_megillah2329/
6
www.rabbijohnnysolomon.com

15
D’Kedusha, such as a Torah mantle), and those items used to serve or protect Tashmishei
D’Kedusha (otherwise known as Tashmish D’Tashmishei Kedusha).

Furthermore, paralleling this hierarchy are those items that have been used for a mitzvah (eg. a
lulav or shofar) which are called Tashmishei Mitzvah, and those items used to serve or protect
Tashmishei Mitzvah, which are called Tashmish D’Tashmishei Mitzvah.

In terms of our daf we are taught that each category has a different rule concerning how we treat
those items and especially what we do when the item is no longer usable, with the general principle
seemingly being that the form of ‘usage’ of any given item is the measure for whichever category
such an item is placed. But as we shall see, based on an insight of Rava, this is not quite the case.

Rava raises the question of whether the bimah upon which a Torah is placed for reading is a
Tashmish D’Tashmishei Kedusha - with the corollary of this being that a bimah could be used for
non-sacred purposes. As the commentaries explain, this conclusion was reached by Rava because
there is generally a cloth or cover that sits between the Torah scroll and the wood of the bimah.

However, Rava then explains that since the Torah is sometimes placed directly on the bimah, a
bimah is, in fact, in the category of Tashmishei D’Kedusha and may not be used for non-sacred
purposes.

But on reflection it is unclear why this is so, because whether or not there is a cloth or cover
separating the Torah scroll and the bimah, the bimah is nevertheless doing its job of supporting
the Torah scroll. Given this, why should the presence of a thin separation between the Torah scroll
and the bimah ‘demote’ the status of the bimah, or its absence ‘elevate’ its status?

The answer, it seems, is that it is not the form of ‘usage’ of any given item vis-à-vis Kedusha that
is the measure for whichever category such an item is placed, but instead, the measure of
‘closeness’ of any given item to Kedusha.

This, I believe, is an important distinction, and it is – in fact – the unwritten approach of numerous
programs that have sought to bring unaffiliated Jews closer to Judaism. As Rabbi Aaron Adler
relates while reflecting on Rav Soloveitchik’s approach towards educating non-religious Jews,
‘The Rav homiletically interpreted the verse in Shemot 29:37, ‫ָכּל ַה ֹנֵּגַﬠ ַבִּמְּזֵבַּח ִיְקָדּשׁ‬, as meaning that
our job as educators is to get the students to come in contact with something holy. The persuasive
power of Torah will then take over.’ (Seventy Conversations in Transit p. 77)

Ultimately, sacredness comes from contact and closeness with the sacred, and while today’s daf
teaches us how this is applied vis-à-vis a bimah, it also applies to each and every one of us.

16
Alieza Salzberg writes:7

The mishnah that begins today’s page sets out a model of synagogue holiness that
extends outward in concentric circles, starting from the Torah scroll at the center.

Residents of a town who sold the town square may purchase a synagogue with the
proceeds of the sale. If they sold a synagogue, they may purchase an ark (in which to
house sacred scrolls). If they sold an ark, they may purchase wrapping cloths (for the
sacred scrolls). If they sold wrapping cloths, they may purchase scrolls (of the
Prophets and the Writings). If they sold scrolls (of the Prophets and Writings), they
may purchase a Torah scroll.

According to the mishnah, a community may sell something sacred and use the
proceeds only to purchase something of greater holiness. But as the mishnah further
describes, the proceeds from a sale of a Torah scroll may not be used to purchase scrolls
of the Prophets and the Writings, which are of lesser sanctity. The rule of thumb is a
community may use money from the sale of an object to buy something of more
significance, but not less.

This mishnah deals with the relatively prosaic question of a synagogue selling off its
assets amidst a period of change — moving from one location to another, say, or maybe
even closing down. However, these rules also raise a larger question about the nature
of holiness itself.

The Torah appears to generate the initial holiness. Objects decline in stature as they
move outward from the Torah: wrappings that directly touch the Torah scrolls, followed
by the ark that houses them, then the synagogue building itself, and finally the town
square. This last item, the town square, is the most interesting on the list. Why can’t a
city sell a public square and use the funds to build a park? Only a synagogue can be
built with the proceeds?

The Gemara immediately raises this very question. The position in the mishnah, we are
told, is that of a single rabbi, Rabbi Menahem bar Yosei, who believes that since people
sometimes pray in the town square, it is a sacred place. The majority of rabbis disagree
and maintain that since the town square is only occasionally used for prayer,
consequently it has no sanctity.

This debate provides us a fascinating insight into the powers that create holy space. The
rabbis maintain that only a place where people come to pray day in and day out has the
7
Myjewishlearning.com

17
power to constitute holy space. But Rabbi Menahem bar Yosei disagrees, citing two
particular times when the town square is used for prayer to justify his position.

The first is public prayer during communal fasts, which were declared when there was
not enough rain. Held in public, passersby joined who might not usually enter the
synagogue. The anxiety of impending drought engendered the most intense of prayers.
And the outdoor setting created a direct line of sight to the heavens. Presumably, these
gatherings had a degree of heartfelt communication with the divine that was more
elevated than normal prayers.

Rabbi Menahem bar Yosei also mentions the non-priestly watches. We’ve learned
about these before. Every town had an appointed day when it was responsible for
providing the Temple with the daily sacrifice. On those days, the townspeople would
go into the streets and pray at the time of offering. Here, the town square enables a
sacred connection that defies distance, linking the community to events in the Temple.

While the first side of our daf treats holiness, once generated, as everlasting, like an
invisible force that can't be left untended and must be properly directed, on the second
half of the daf we learn something very different:

Rava said: They taught (that there is a limitation on what may be purchased with the
proceeds of the sale of a synagogue) only when the seven representatives of the town
(who were appointed to administer the town’s affairs) had not sold the synagogue in
an assembly of the residents of the town. However, if the seven representatives of the
town had sold it in an assembly of the residents of the town, then even to drink beer
with the proceeds seems well and is permitted.

According to Rava, if a community unanimously decides to sell a synagogue, they may

buy anything, even booze, for there is no lasting holiness inherent within walls or funds.
At the end of the day, holiness inheres in the community and lasts within the synagogue
only while a community continues to think of a place as holy. When a community
gathers to learn and pray, their spiritual force is present and tangible in the synagogue
building. But if it chooses as a group, it may disband the community or transition to a
new location with no lingering holiness to steer.

18
 A Cathedral on A Townsquare in Summer by Cornelis Springer

Selling a synagogue
Mark Kerzner writes:8

The townspeople who sold the town square are allowed to buy a synagogue with the proceeds, but
if they sold a synagogue, they are not allowed to buy a town square with the money.

What is special about a town square? Going back Taanit, we know that people used to pray there
on the seven strict fast days, so this teacher holds that this gives the town square some degree of
holiness.

In any case, we see here the rule of "we bring up in holiness but don't bring down." What is the
source for this rule? For the first part, we get it from Betzalel creating the Tabernacle object, and
then Moses, who was on the higher level, putting it together. The "don't bring down" part is learned
from the two hundred and fifty people who joined Korach in his revolt: the pans which they used
to offer the incense were not disposed of but beaten into the covering for the Altar.

8 https://talmudilluminated.com/megillah/megillah26.html

19
What about keeping on the same level? For example, can one sell a synagogue in order to buy
another one? The rule leaves it open, and there are two opinions ("yes" and "no"), but in practice
it is permitted. With the synagogue, there are also other considerations: care must be taken to
prevent negligence of not buying or building another synagogue later.

If the people in a village built a synagogue building strictly for themselves, their authorized
representatives can sell it in the presence of the residents of the place. However, a city synagogue
is usually built with contributions from out-of-town people, and for the use of everyone, so in
general it cannot be sold.

Rav David Brofsky writes:9

9 https://etzion.org.il/en/halakha/orach-chaim/prayer-and-blessings/kedushat-beit-ha-keneset

20
 Over the past two years, we have studied the laws of tefilla, beginning with the Netilat
Yadayim (handwashing) performed upon waking up in the morning, and concluding with
the Keriat Shema reciting before going to sleep.

I would like to dedicate our final shiurim to the study of the primary and ideal environment
for tefilla: the beit ha-keneset (synagogue).

The Mitzva to Build a Synagogue:

Regarding the construction of the Mishkan (Tabernacle), the Torah records: "And let them
make for Me a sanctuary (mikdash), that I may dwell (ve-shakhanti) among them (Shemot 25:8)."

The Rambam (Sefer Ha-mitzvot, Positive #20; Hilkhot Beit Ha-bechira 1:1) writes that
this mitzva applies not only to the Mishkan, but also to the Beit Ha-mikdash (Temple). The
Chinukh (#95) counts this mitzva as well. The Semag (Positive #163) derives this mitzva from a
different verse (Devarim 12:11):

The commentaries offer different interpretations of the term "mikdash." The Rashbam, for
example, explains that mikdash is similar to the word "mo'ed," "appointment," as God commands
to build the Mishkan, promising "I will prepare Myself and I will make Myself available to speak
from inside it." According to the Rashbam, the Mishkan, as a mikdash, is primarily a place to
commune with God.

Alternatively, the Ibn Ezra explains that "mikdash" refers to a "holy place," in which God's
presence dwells. The Mishkan, and subsequently the Beit Ha-mikdash, are first and foremost
places of holiness, of sanctity.

This debate, regarding the nature of the "mikdash," seems to appear in other contexts. For
example, the Rambam (Hilkhot Beit Ha-bechira 1:1), concerning the commandment to build
a Beit Ha-mikdash, writes:

The Rambam seems to focus on the FUNCTION of the Beit Ha-mikdash, as a place to meet
God, and to worship Him. Alternatively, the Ramban (Shemot 25:2) explains that "the primary

21
desire in the Mishkan is [to provide] a place for God's presence, i.e. the Ark, to rest." The Mishkan,
and afterwards the Beit Ha-mikdash, provide a "home" for God's Presence in this world. This
disagreement most likely reflects a larger, philosophical disagreement between the Rambam and
Ramban regarding the immanence of God and the differences between the rationalist and mystical
traditions, but that lies beyond the scope of our discussion.

The Chinukh (95) adds that ultimately the Beit Ha-mikdash "prepares our hearts to worship
Him… as the many and constant actions purify the thoughts of the heart, and [the people] are
cleansed and purified."

In summary, the Beit Ha-mikdash serves as a place to meet and commune with God, for
God to rest His presence within it, and ultimately, as a place to purify the soul which worships
God.

The prophet Yechezkel (Yechezkel 11:16), comforting the Jewish people, says,

The Gemara (Megilla 29a), teaches:

The Metzudat David (ad loc.) explains that Yechezkel is telling the Jewish people that
although God's presence will be removed from the Beit Ha-mikdash, "I will rest My presence in
their synagogues, and as [the Jewish people] are far away from MY Beit Ha-mikdash — i.e., the
great Beit Ha-mikdash in Jerusalem — they will have in its stead little sanctuaries."

While one may argue whether there is technically a mitzva to erect a beit ha-keneset; (see
Rambam, Hilkhot Tefilla 11:1; OC 150:1); whether it is derived from the mitzva to erect
the Beit Ha-mikdash (Zohar, Ra'aya Meheimana, Beshalach 59); whether the precise nature of
its kedusha (sanctity) is similar to that of the Beit Ha-mikdash (as we shall discuss later);
the gemara cited above certainly implies that a beit ha-keneset (along with a study hall, a beit ha-
midrash) shares common qualities and characteristic with the Beit Ha-mikdash. Rav Chayyim
Chizkiyya Medini (1833–1904) summarizes the opinions regarding the mitzva to build a beit ha-
keneset in his Sedei Chemed (Kelalim, Ma'arekhet Bet, 43-44).

As we shall discuss, there are other indications which point to the relationship between the
sanctity of the Beit Ha-mikdash and that of a beit ha-keneset. For example, the Yere'im, Rabbi
Eliezer of Metz (Ch. 324), citing a beraita (Torat Kohanim, Parashat Bechukotai 6:4) and the
aforementioned gemara in Megilla (ibid.), rules that the obligation to revere the Beit Ha-
mikdash (mora mikdash - see Vayikra 26:2) applies to synagogues and study halls as well. The
Rambam (Minyan Ha-mitzvot, Negative #65) implies that the prohibition to destroy the Beit Ha-
mikdash includes destroying a beit ha-keneset, as we will discuss.

22
The Nature of Kedushat Beit Ha-keneset:

What is the nature of kedushat beit ha-keneset? The Ramban (Megilla 26a) begins a
lengthy discussion of this topic by citing a number of passages which, in his opinion, imply that
a beit ha-keneset has inherent kedusha. For example, the Mishna (Megilla 3:1) teaches that the
residents of a city, when selling a beit ha-keneset, may only use the money to purchase an Ark for
the Torah. Furthermore, the Gemara (26b) also explains that although one may, under certain
circumstances, sell a beit ha-keneset, it may not be rented out, as "it stands in its sanctity." Finally,
the Gemara (ibid.) also cites a debate regarding whether a beit ha-keneset may be given as a
"gift." The Gemara explains the reasoning for the prohibiting opinion: "How will its sanctity be
removed?" In other words, since nothing is given in exchange, the kedusha is not transferred to a
different object.

The Ramban, however, forcefully rejects these implications and argues that if a beit ha-
keneset were really "inherently sanctified," it might be permitted to transfer its kedusha onto
money (as with ma'aser sheni, the second tithe), which would then be used to purchase sacred
objects. Rather, the Gemara ONLY speaks of sale or another legal transfer of ownership, not
"redemption." Therefore, he suggests:

He argues that as long as the residents of the city are still interested in the beit ha-keneset,
it is treated with sanctity, even after being destroyed. However, if the community decides to sell
the beit ha-keneset, and they are no longer interested in keeping it, then even the obligation to treat
the beit ha-keneset with respect is no longer applicable. Indeed, the Gemara teaches that if the
"seven leaders of the city" in the presence and with the consensus of the community, all agree to
sell the beit ha-keneset, it may be used even for drinking in, as it is akin to tashmishei mitzva after
their mitzva has been performed.

The Yere'im apparently disagrees. As mentioned above, he (409) equates the obligation
of mora in the Beit Ha-mikdash to the obligation of mora in a beit ha-keneset. Furthermore, he
argues (104) that:

23
 Apparently, the Yere'im believes that the sanctity of a beit ha-keneset is not functional, but
rather inherent, similar to tashmishei kedusha (accessories of sanctity). Regarding tashmishei
kedusha, the Gemara (ibid. 26b) teaches:

Interestingly, the Ran (Megilla 8a (Rif), s.v. U-man) explains, "since [the synagogue's]
primary function is to recite within it holy matters (Kaddish, Kedusha, etc.), the Sage impose upon
it rabbinically-mandated sanctity." The Ran, as is apparent from the rest of the passage, agrees
with the Yere'im regarding the nature of the sanctity, yet disagrees regarding its source. This
debate may be crucial to understanding another prohibition as well: the prohibition to destroy a
synagogue.

The Gemara (Bava Batra 3b) teaches:

This passage teaches that one should not destroy one beit ha-keneset before building
another. In addition, it addresses cases in which it may or may not be permitted.

However, the assumption of the Gemara, which pervades the entire passage, is that one
may not destroy a beit ha-keneset. What is the source and scope of this prohibition? Seemingly,
the Ramban, cited above, would simply explain that just as one may not destroy an object which

24
facilitates the performance of a mitzva, similarly, one should not destroy a beit ha-keneset, which
facilitates communal prayer. The Yere'im, cited above, however, might equate destroying a beit
ha-keneset with one who destroys the inherently holy Beit Ha-mikdash. Indeed, the Torah
teaches (Devarim 12:2-4):

Rashi (ad loc.), citing the Sifrei (61), explains, in his second interpretation, that the verse
refers to "one who erases the Name [of God] or one who destroys a stone from the Altar or the
Courtyard."

The Rambam, in his Sefer Ha-mitzvot (Negative #65), writes that the verse prohibits
"smashing and destroying houses of worshipping God (battei avodat ha-Kel), as well as destroying
the Books of the Prophets and erasing the Holy Names." The phrase "battei avodat ha-Kel" may
refer to the Beit Ha-mikdash only.

However, in his Minyan Ha-mitzvot (Negative 65) the Rambam explicitly writes that the
prohibition refers to "destroying the Beit Ha-mikdash OR SYNAGOGUES OR STUDY
HALLS." The Ra'avya (Megilla 590) also argues that the prohibition to destroy the Beit Ha-
mikdash applies to synagogues as well.

The possibility of selling synagogues which no longer attract worshipers has been
discussed throughout the centuries. The Mishna Berura (152:9), for example, cites the Taz, who
discusses a case in which a beit ha-keneset, located outside the city walls, was left without
worshippers after the Jews were permitted to move inside the city walls. Similarly, after World
War II, many synagogues were left without congregations. The Posekim discuss whether they
may be sold, and for which purposes. Often, a community would sell the beit ha-keneset and use
the money to acquire another beit ha-keneset or other tashmishei kedusha, such as the Ark for the
Torah (see Mishna Berura 123:11 and 33). The Chatam Sofer (OC 31) even raises a meta-halakhic
consideration: how will the non-Jews relate to our places of worship if we express our willingness
to sell them?

The question of destroying synagogues became a reality in August 2005, during Israel's
unilateral withdrawal from the Gaza Strip, known as the Disengagement (Hitnatkut). The Israeli
government, determined to withdraw from the Gaza Strip and relocate its Jewish residents, faced
the dilemma of whether to destroy the synagogues, as they destroyed all of the houses and public
buildings, or to leave then intact, knowing that the Palestinian population would most certainly
violate them. Despite the initial decision, after concluding that they could not be successfully
relocated, to destroy the synagogues, the rabbinic community passionately debated the question;
in the end, due to popular pressure, as well as a request from the Chief Rabbinate, the government
changed its original ruling, and the synagogues were left intact. After Israel's withdrawal from the

25
Gaza Strip on September 12, 2005, the Palestinians desecrated and destroyed the synagogues and
study halls left in Gaza.

Difference between the Kedusha of the Beit Ha-mikdash and that of

a Mikdash Me'at:
While we have discussed the quantitative differences between the sanctity of the Beit Ha-
mikdash and that of a beit ha-keneset, the Rav, Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, cited by Rabbi
Herschel Schachter (see Eretz Ha-tzvi, Ch. 12), explains the qualitative difference.

The Rav, as he was known by his students, explains that both the Beit Ha-mikdash and
a beit ha-keneset are places to encounter God. However, the Beit Ha-mikdash, fundamentally, is
the "House of God," and visiting the Beit Ha-mikdash is akin to visiting the "House of
God." A beit ha-keneset, however, fundamentally, is "our house," which God "visits" in order to
communicate with us. Indeed the Gemara (Berakhot 63a) explains:

Incidentally, the Mishna Berura (Sha'ar Ha-tziyyun 151:15) comments that for those
people who object to spitting in their homes, it would be prohibited to spit in a beit ha-
keneset. Furthermore, the Rav insists that one should not enter a beit ha-keneset in galoshes, as it
is customary to remove them before entering a home.

Prohibited Activities in a Synagogue:

The Talmud discusses numerous activities which are prohibited in a beit ha-keneset. For
example, the Mishna (Megilla 3:3) teaches:

The Tiferet Yisrael notes that activities prohibited after the beit ha-keneset has been
destroyed must certainly be prohibited while it is still standing!

Regarding "making a shortcut" through a destroyed synagogue, the Rambam

(Hilkhot Tefilla 11:8) and the Shulchan Arukh (151:5) rule that if a beit ha-keneset has two
doorways, one should enter through one and exit through the other in order to save time. In
his Bei'ur Halakha, the Mishna Berura discusses, and ultimately prohibits, using a beit ha-
keneset as a shortcut while traveling to perform a mitzva.

26
 The Gemara (Megilla 28a) teaches that one should not even "stroll around in them [or]
enter them in the summer because of the sun or in the winter because of the rain." In fact, the
Rambam (Hilkhot Tefilla 11:8), cited by the Magen Avraham (151:6), rules that one should only
enter a beit ha-keneset in order to perform a mitzva. The Gemara (Megilla 28b) adds:

The Shulchan Arukh (151:1) cites this halakha.

The Gemara (ibid., 28a-b) lists other activities which are prohibited within a beit ha-
keneset:

Regarding eating and drinking, the Shulchan Arukh (151:1) also rules that one may not do
so in a synagogue. However, he adds (151:4), those gathered for the sake of the beit ha-keneset,
or for the sake of another mitzva, may eat. The Acharonim discuss which types of meals may be
eaten in a beit ha-keneset. The Magen Avraham (151:5), for example, cites the Semak who
permits holding a small se'udat mitzva, a meal related to the fulfillment of a mitzva, in a beit ha-
keneset. The Mishna Berura (20) seems to allow any se'udat mitzva.

Rav Moshe Feinstein (Iggerot Moshe OC 1:45) also records that the custom is be lenient
and permit any meal with a minimal mitzva component, such as se'uda shelishit (the third Shabbat
meal) or a celebration for a groom or a bar mitzva. In fact, he writes the Chasidim would permit
eating to commemorate a yarzheit, the anniversary of a death. Rav Ovadya Yosef (Yechavveh
Da'at 3:10) also allows eating se'uda shelishit in a beit ha-keneset, as long as it is accompanied
with words of Torah. The Arukh Ha-shulchan (151:6), on the other hand, seems to allow only
meals associated with learning Torah, such as a meal upon the completion of a section of Torah
(se'udat siyyum).

This question may be related to a broader and fundamental issue regarding the sanctity of
a beit ha-keneset: may a beit ha-keneset be built on the condition that it may be used for other
activities?

The Gemara (Megilla 28b) teaches: "Rav Asi said: 'Synagogues in Babylonia are
built conditionally; nevertheless we do not act light-headedly in them.'" Though lightheadedness
may be forbidden, certain leniencies may apply.

27
 The Rishonim debate whether these leniencies apply when the synagogue is operational or
only if it lies in ruins. The Ran (Megilla 9a, s.v. Battei) cites the Ramban, who seems to allow the
poor to eat and drink in a beit ha-keneset (see Pesachim 101a) based upon the
aforementioned gemara. Indeed, in Sha'ar Ha-tziyyun (151:14), the Mishna Berura explains that
since according to some Rishonim, the synagogues in the Diaspora are sanctified "conditionally,"
even while they are standing, this condition allows one do eat in them for certain reasons.

Other Rishonim (Tosafot, Bava Batra 3b, s.v. Ve-aileih; Tosafot, Megilla 28b, s.v. Battei;
Rosh, Bava Batra 1:4; Mordekhai, Megilla 829) limit the Gemara's apparent leniency to
synagogues outside of Israel, and only after they have been destroyed.

The Shulchan Arukh (151:11) rules in accordance with Tosafot, the Rosh and the
Mordekhai. The Mishna Berura (Bei'ur Halakha, s.v. Aval; Sha'ar Ha-tziyyun, cited above) writes
that those who are lenient rely upon the Ramban's view. Interestingly, the Tosafot Rid
(2nd ed., Pesachim 101a, s.v. Le-afukkei) applies this leniency to synagogues in Israel as well!

We should note that regarding Torah scholars and their students, their ability to eat and
drink in a beit ha-keneset or beit ha-midrash may not be due to the conditional kedusha of a
synagogue, but rather to the nature of the sanctity of a study hall or special exemptions made for
Torah scholars and their students. The Gemara (Megilla 28b) teaches that when it comes to eating,
drinking and grooming:

The Rashba explains that the beit ha-midrash is fundamentally different from a beit ha-
keneset. Since the teachers and students are there constantly, the beit ha-midrash is "like their
house, and they may eat and sleep in them." The Magen Avraham (151:2) seems to disagree, as
he explains that scholars and their students may eat and drink even in a beit ha-keneset, when
necessary, as if not, they would have to constantly interrupt their learning in order to tend to their
physical needs.

The Shulchan Arukh writes that Torah scholars and their students may eat, under
extenuating circumstances, in a beit ha-keneset. The Rema adds that in a beit ha-midrash, they
may eat even under normal circumstances.

28
 How Can We Respect Both the Sanctity of Jewish Things and the
Practical Needs of the Jews?
Talmudic rabbis debate the value of recycling, upselling, renovation, and sacred
trash
Adam Kirsch writes:10

Very early in the Daf Yomi cycle, way back in Tractate Berakhot, I remember reading about the
principle that in sacred things, we elevate and do not lower. In a debate over the right way to light
candles on Hanukkah, Beit Shammai argued that we should start with eight candles on the first
night and then reduce the number each night; Beit Hillel, by contrast, said that we should start with
one candle and build up to eight. As usual, Hillel’s interpretation prevailed, because of the principle
that we should always try to increase our sanctity, rather than lessen it.

With candles, this is straightforward enough. But what happens, the Talmud asked in this week’s
Daf Yomi’s reading, when we are talking about the sanctity of a piece of real estate—for instance,
a synagogue or a study hall? To take a place where Jews worshipped God and turn it into something
else, like a store or a house, would clearly mean lessening its sanctity. Yet if a building that once
served as a synagogue had to remain a synagogue forever, then it could never be sold, even if the
Jewish community dwindled and it wasn’t needed any longer. And a community or an individual
might be less inclined to build a synagogue in the first place if there was no chance of ever

10 https://www.tabletmag.com/sections/belief/articles/daf-yomi-94

29
recovering the initial investment. How can we respect both the sanctity of the synagogue and the
practical needs of the Jews who built it?

Chapter 4 of Tractate Megilla begins by taking up this question, which on its face has nothing to
do with Purim, the main subject of the tractate. (I’ve noticed that it’s not uncommon for the last
chapter of a tractate to become a miscellany, mopping up various side-issues that the rabbis
couldn’t find a place for earlier.) The mishna on our daf Megilla 25b begins by establishing a scale
of holiness. A town square, where Jews would sometimes gather for communal prayer, has a low
level of sanctity; it is less holy than a synagogue, where prayers take place regularly. The
synagogue, in turn is less holy than an ark, which actually contains a Torah scroll; the ark is less
holy than the cloths used to wrap the scroll; and the cloths are less holy than the Sefer Torah itself.
Once, sanctity was determined by proximity to the Holy of Holies in the Temple; today, the Torah
itself stands at the sacred center of Judaism, and the closer an object physically is to the Torah the
more respect it is owed.

It follows that it is forbidden to travel the wrong way on this ladder of sanctity. A Jewish
community can sell its town square and use the funds to buy a synagogue, but it can’t sell its
synagogue and use the money to buy a town square; and the same logic applies to the other items
mentioned. You can use the proceeds of a synagogue sale only to purchase items of greater
holiness, like an ark or a Torah scroll. And the same holds true for “surplus funds”: If you sell a
synagogue, buy an ark, and have money left over, that money is subject to the same restrictions.
The Gemara clarifies, however, that these guidelines apply only to synagogue buildings that are
owned privately or by a small group—what the rabbis call “the synagogue of a village.” Such
buildings can be sold under the right circumstances, but “the synagogue of a city” cannot sold for
any reason, “because it is considered to be the property of the public at large.” When a lot of people
count on using a synagogue, it must remain open for use. However, the rabbis must have
recognized that this rule would create practical difficulties, because they immediately craft a
loophole. A community itself cannot sell its synagogue, but if it appoints a board of seven
representatives, they can annul the building’s sanctity and sell it. In that case, the proceeds are not
restricted and can be used for any purpose, “even to drink beer with.”

Now we know that you cannot sell something sacred and use the money for something less sacred.
But can you use a sacred item to acquire something of the same degree of sanctity? This problem
is raised by Rami bar Abba, who was once building a new synagogue and wanted to demolish an
old one in order to use the “bricks and beams.” It may seem that this should be no problem since
the level of sanctity of the bricks and beams would not be reduced. Still, the project might run
afoul of Rav Chisda’s rule, “One should not demolish a synagogue until one has built another
synagogue.” Rami bar Abba thought not; that law was instituted to rule out the chance that you
might demolish a synagogue and then fail to build a replacement. But in his project, the very
materials of the old synagogue were going to be used in the new one. However, Rav Pappa and
Rav Huna both disagreed, and they forbade Rami from demolishing the old synagogue until the
new one was built. Clearly, the rabbis weren’t as into recycling as we are today.

Next, the Gemara moves on from synagogues to consider the status of other sacred items. In
general, “articles used in the performance of a mitzvah may be thrown out”: A shofar or worn-
out tzitzit do not retain any holiness and can be discarded. But things are different with what the

30
Talmud calls “articles of sanctity,” which are anything that includes written verses from the
Torah: mezuzot, tefillin, and of course Torah scrolls themselves. By extension, anything used to cover
or hold an “article of sanctity” is also sacred: a cover for a Torah scrolls, tefillin straps. And the
Gemara goes on to broaden this category still further, by including any item that might come into
contact with a Torah scroll, such as a synagogue lectern or the curtain of the ark. These strictures
evolved into the custom of preserving any document that had Hebrew writing in it—a custom that
historians love, since it resulted in the creation of unintentional archives like the famous Cairo
Geniza.

Rabbi Meir attempts to add yet another restriction on the sale of synagogues and sacred items. If
the goal is to avoid the lessening of sanctity, then surely it should be forbidden to take a synagogue
that belongs to the Jewish community and sell it to an individual. Such a sale would diminish the
number of people who can benefit from the building and so diminish its holiness. But here the
rabbis disagree, thinking that Meir’s restriction goes too far. After all, the rabbis argue, by Meir’s
logic it would also be illegal to transfer a sacred item from a larger community to a smaller one,
since that too limits its potential usefulness. Yet no one would think of imposing such a rule. Even
with a principle as important as increasing sanctity, the rabbis recognize the need to live in the real
world, and they craft laws that Jews can manage to follow.

Still, if you do buy a synagogue, you can’t do just anything you like with it. Specifically, you can’t
use it for undignified purposes: “They may sell a synagogue with a permanent sale for any usage,
except the following four things: for a bathhouse, for a tannery, for immersion [that is, a ritual
bath], or for a lavatory.” Anything involving nudity or bodily waste would be an insult to the
memory of the synagogue. By the same principle, the Gemara goes on to note, if you are praying
and you have to urinate, you must move four cubits from where you were standing. The body
shouldn’t be allowed to intrude on places consecrated to the soul.

31
 Rav Moshe Rosen d. 1957

The Rulings of the Gadol of Brownsville

Rabbi Yirmiyohu Kaganoff writes:11

11
https://www.yeshiva.co/midrash/35149

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Introduction: The Gadol of Brownsville

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What do the above questions have to do with a gadol of Brownsville? Actually, there were many
great talmidei chachamim who lived in the Brownsville neighborhood of Brooklyn during its
heyday as a Jewish neighborhood. This article will discuss two shaylos that were asked of a world-
class gadol who served as a rav in Brownsville, Rav Moshe Rosen. Rav Rosen is usually known
by the name of a series of sefarim he authored, the Neizer Hakodesh, which plows original ground
on the entirety of Seder Kodoshim, and also includes volumes on Pesachim, Yoma, Makkos and
Niddah.

Rav Rosen was born in the 1870’s in Brainsk, in Polish Lithuania (then part of the Russian
Empire). After marriage and five years of kest (the equivalent of kollel that existed for promising
young talmidei chachamim in pre-World War I Eastern Europe), he became rav in Kveidan, a town
near Kovno, Lithuania, where he remained through World War I before he moved to America.
Even in his youth, he was a profound talmid chacham – as early an author as the Sedei Chemed
quotes Rav Rosen with tremendous respect. 1

In Europe, while yet a young man, the Neizer Hakodesh exchanged halachic correspondence with
such luminaries as the nineteenth century’s poseik hador, Rav Yitzchak Elchanan Spector, the Or
Somayach, the Chofeitz Chayim, Rav Chayim Ozer Grodzensky, Rav Itzele Ponovitcher and Rav
Menachem Ziemba. 2 The Ponovitcher Rav, Rav Yosef Kahaneman, said that the Neizer
Hakodesh’s Torah scholarship and brilliance was in the league of the greatest gedolim of Europe,
an opinion that was echoed by another Lithuanian gadol, Rav Yechezkel Abramsky.

One of the other gedolim who knew and admired Rav Rosen when he was still a young man in
Europe was the Chazon Ish, whose rebbitzen was a native of Kveidan and where he (the Chazon
Ish) resided immediately after his marriage. One short anecdote demonstrates the respect the
Chazon Ish had for the Torah greatness of Rav Rosen: Shortly after World War I, the Chazon Ish
wanted to print a new edition of the very difficult mesechta, Keilim, with three commentaries,
those authored by Rav Chayim Ozer, the Chazon Ish himself and the Neizer Hakodesh. 3
Apparently, this initiative never saw fruition.

At the beginning of World War I, the Eastern Front of the war -- between Germany and Russia --
passed right through Kveidan and its environs, and most of the Jews fled to avoid the battlefront.
Since no other rav was nearby, the Neizer Hakodesh remained in the area to oversee the chesed
and mitzvos that needed to be performed. By the end of the war, there was no Jewish community
left in Kveidan, 4 and the Neizer Hakodesh relocated to America, where he settled in Brownsville.

Once in New York, the Neizer Hakodesh became the first Rosh Yeshivah of Yeshiva Torah
Vodaas. Among his early talmidim, was a young man named Avraham Pam, future Rosh Yeshivah
of Torah Vodaas and future Chairman of the Moetzes Gedolei Hatorah. In a later period, the Neizer
Hakodesh would test (farher) the talmidim of Yeshivah Chayim Berlin. Decades later, he was also

34
involved in the organization of the yeshivah Beis Hatalmud of Bensonhurst and of Beth Medrash
Govoha of Lakewood.

Upon arriving in America, Rav Rosen became rav of Khal Anshei Radishkovitz, colloquially
known as the Amboy Street shul, one of the largest shuls in Brownsville. He later founded his own
beis medrash, which, after his passing, was headed by his son, and later his son-in-law. The shul,
now called Beis Hamedrash Harav, was subsequently relocated to Far Rockaway.

Rav Rosen authored over twenty sefarim, of which at least eighteen were subsequently published,
most of them called Neizer Hakodesh. Many decades before the Brisker Rav popularized studying
Seder Kodoshim in depth, Rav Rosen was attempting to re-breathe life into Kodoshim through his
work, out of his home in Brownsville. He also authored several volumes of responsa and
commentaries on Shulchan Aruch and Chumash.

Also, a man of action, Rav Rosen raised money to support the Chazon Ish when he arrived in Bnei
Beraq, and to assist the Brisker Rav when he arrived in Eretz Yisrael. Rav Rosen predeceased the
Brisker Rav, passing away on Sukkos 5717 (1957).

A teshuvah from Brownsville

In one of his responsa, Rav Rosen deals with the second question that I asked above: "For many
years, I have attended a minyan that is now severely dwindling. In addition, not all the attendees
are capable of davening, and, therefore, there are usually less than ten people praying at a time.

35
Should I continue to attend this shul, or should I begin attending another shul, where there will be
a minyan of people who all daven together?"

Before I quote his response to this question, we should analyze the background of the issue.

What is a minyan?

We are all aware that several parts of our tefillah may be recited only when there is a quorum of
at least ten adult men (a minyan) present. We are also aware that prayers recited together with a
minyan accomplish more than when one prays by himself. To quote the Rambam: "The prayer of
the community is always heard. Even when there are sinners among them, the Holy One, blessed
is He, does not despise the prayer of a group of people. Therefore, everyone is required to make
himself part of the tzibur. One should not pray in private any time that one is able to pray with a
community" (Hilchos Tefillah 8:1).

In a related discussion, the Rambam notes that the repetition of the shemoneh esrei requires that
ten adult men be in attendance. He explains that it is not necessary that all ten are davening at this
moment, provided that at least six people in attendance daven their quiet shemoneh esrei together
prior to the repetition of the shemoneh esrei.

At this point, let us quote the first question asked above:

"Unfortunately, some of those who attend my morning minyan come late, so that the minyan
usually forms around Borchu time. Should the chazzan wait until ten people are ready to begin the
quiet shemoneh esrei together?"

The questioner is raising the following issue: Do six people davening together while ten are in
attendance have all the value of tefillah betzibur, or does their joint prayer not carry all the merits
of tefillah betzibur unless ten men are actually praying simultaneously? A corollary of this question
is whether there is a preference to daven with a minyan where ten people are actually davening
over one where less than ten are actually davening.

To answer this question, many authorities quote the words of the Chayei Adam (19:1):
"Someone who wants his prayers to be accepted should be careful to daven together with the
tzibur… the main part of tefillah betzibur is the shemoneh esrei prayer, which means that ten adult
males should pray together. The masses think, in error, that the purpose of tefillah betzibur is only
to hear Kaddish, Kedushah and Borchu, and, as a result, they are not concerned about davening
together, as long as there are ten people in shul. This is a major error. Therefore, it is a personal
responsibility of each man to arrive in shul early and begin davening with the chazzan, so that he
can daven in the proper order."

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Clearly, the main concern of the Chayei Adam was the bad habit of arriving late for services,
resulting in not davening the shemoneh esrei together with the tzibur. However, while emphasizing
the importance of reciting one’s prayers at the same time that the tzibur does, the Chayei Adam
wrote, "the main part of tefillah betzibur is… that ten adult males pray together." This is understood
by many authorities to mean that although one may repeat the shemoneh esrei (chazaras hashatz)
even if only six of the people in attendance have davened, it is not considered full-fledged tefillah
betzibur unless at least ten actually davened together. These significant words of the Chayei Adam
are quoted by the Mishnah Berurah.

The logic used to explain this position is that a minyan should be treated no different from any
other minimum amount required for the performance of a mitzvah. When the Torah requires that
we eat a kezayis (the volume-equivalent of an olive) of matzoh on Seder night, it is insufficient for
someone to eat most of the volume-equivalent of an olive. The mitzvah is fulfilled only when one
consumes an entire olive-sized piece. So, too, although six people davening with four others in
attendance allows one to repeat the shemoneh esrei and to recite Kedushah, Kaddish and Borchu,
ultimately one does not have a minyan of people davening simultaneously (Shu"t Igros Moshe,
Orach Chayim 1:28, 29, 30). Rav Shlomoh Zalman Auerbach also held this position (Halichos
Shlomoh 5:8).

Other authorities dispute this conclusion, contending that if ten people are in attendance, tefillah
betzibur is accomplished even when only six of them daven at the same time. They contend that
the first approach is reading more into the Chayei Adam’s comments than the author intended. The
purpose of the Chayei Adam’s comments is only to show that reciting the shemoneh esrei with the
tzibur is the primary focus of attending public prayer and not only the recital of Kaddish and
Kedushah, unlike the errant understanding of the common folk.

Those who espouse the latter position note that the Rambam’s comments imply that six people
praying with four others in attendance constitutes tefillah betzibur. They note that since the
Rambam implies that six people praying together with a minyan in attendance qualifies as tefillah
betzibur, how can one infer from the Chayei Adam otherwise? If the Chayei Adam intended to
dispute the Rambam’s conclusion, he would explain that he is doing so. Therefore, it is more likely
that he agrees with the Rambam and that having six people davening does qualify as tefillah
betizbur (Beis Baruch commentary on Chayei Adam). The Eimek Beracha (Tefillah #6) provides
several indications that this is true, and rules that this is unquestionably accurate.

Returning to our first question: "Unfortunately, some of those who attend my morning minyan
come late, so that the minyan usually forms around Borchu time. Should the chazzan wait until ten
people are ready to begin the quiet shemoneh esrei together?"

Well, dear reader, what do you answer our friend? It depends which opinion of the two approaches

37
one holds. According to the first approach, it is preferable to wait until ten people begin shemoneh
esrei simultaneously, which accomplishes tefillah betzibur. According to the second approach, it
is not required. The rav of the shul should decide which approach they should follow.

Dwindling minyan

At this point, I would like to address the second question posed above:
"For many years, I have attended a minyan that is now severely dwindling. In addition, not all the
attendees are capable of davening, and, therefore, there are usually less than ten people praying at
a time. Should I continue to attend this shul, or should I begin attending another shul, where there
will be a minyan of people who all daven together?"

This actual question was asked of the Neizer Hakodesh. The first step in this question is: Assuming
that at least six people are davening, is this considered tefillah betzibur?
The answer to this question is, of course, dependent on our previous discussion. In his responsum,
the Neizer Hakodesh assumes that if ten people are not davening shemoneh esrei together, the
resultant tefillah does not qualify as tefillah betzibur. However, notwithstanding that remaining in
the dying shul deprives the questioner of the mitzvah of tefillah betzibur, Rav Rosen still concludes
that he should remain at that shul -- for a different reason, based on the following well-known
Talmudic story (Berachos 47b):

Rabbi Eliezer, attended by his slave, entered a shul to discover that it was short one Jew for a
minyan. Although a non-Jewish slave owned by a Jew is required to observe most mitzvos, he is
still not considered a full-fledged Jew until he is freed, and he does not count towards a minyan.
Rabbi Eliezer promptly freed his slave so that there would be a minyan and davening could begin.

38
The Gemara asks: Upon what halachic basis did Rabbi Eliezer free his slave since this act is
prohibited by the Torah? The Gemara replies that since freeing his slave in this instance allowed
a "community" of Jews to perform a mitzvah, a mitzvah of the community supersedes the
prohibition of freeing one’s slave.

Thus, we see the importance of enabling the tzibur to perform the various mitzvos, including
reciting Kaddish, Kedusha, and Borchu, repeating the shemoneh esrei, and reading the Torah. Rav
Rosen ruled that the community’s ability to observe these mitzvos holds greater halachic weight
than the individual being able to daven with a proper minyan of ten people davening at the same
time (Neizer Hakodesh U’she’eilos U’teshuvos #14).

Moving the ezras nashim

At this point, I would like to address the last of our opening questions:

"Some of the ladies who attend our shul are now aging, and it is difficult for them to climb the
steps to the ezras nashim. May we take part of the downstairs men’s section, place a mechitzah
between it and the men, and make it into an auxiliary women’s section?"

The question here is based on the following halachic issue. The Gemara states that one may not
take an item that is designated for a greater kedusha and now use it for a lesser kedusha (see
Megillah 26a). The question is whether, since both the ezras nashim and the men’s section are
designated for prayer, they have the same level of sanctity, or if there is any distinction between
them.

The Neizer Hakodesh writes that a respected earlier authority, the Divrei Chayim, previously
analyzed this question, noting that there are many mitzvos, such as reading the Torah, blowing
Shofar, lighting the menorah on Chanukah, and the recital of elements of davening that require a
minyan are based in the men’s shul. As a result, the Divrei Chayim concluded that although the
ezras nashim certainly has great sanctity, there is more sanctity in the main shul. This precludes
changing a section of the shul for use as an ezras nashim (Shu"t Divrei Chayim, Orach Chayim
2:14).

After discussing the issues at length, Rav Rosen voiced concern that should the shul not construct
a lower ezras nashim, some women would begin to attend non-Orthodox congregations. He
therefore recommended the following: Notwithstanding that the main shul cannot be converted to
an ezras nashim, under the extenuating circumstances, one may be lenient that the area above the
men’s height does not have the kedusha of the shul and construct an auxiliary ezras nashim in the
air space above part of the men’s section. Since this would not be much taller than the main shul,
it would be easy to access with a short ramp or short set of stairs, thus being available to those who
require it.

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In the responsa of Rav Moshe Feinstein, we find a teshuvah where he was asked a similar question
regarding changing the ezras nashim of a shul from a balcony to a section alongside the main shul
with a proper mechitzah (Shu"t Igros Moshe, Orach Chayim 2:43). Rav Moshe rules that one may
not do this, because we see from the Gemara (Sukkah 51b) that it is preferred for the women’s
section to be in a balcony. Although a shul whose ezras nashim is alongside the main shul and
separated by a mechitzah is kosher, one should not replace a balcony mechitzah, which is the
preferred choice, with one alongside the main shul. Rav Moshe is also clearly concerned that the
attempt to change the mechitzah is meant to be a liberalizing step in the shul and could lead to
other "innovations" with more serious halachic ramifications. He rules that the rav should fight
this innovation of relocating the ezras nashim with all his might. Nevertheless, Rav Moshe rules
that if the congregation moves the women’s section from a balcony to an area alongside the main
shul with a kosher mechitzah, that the rav of the shul may keep his position, since the shul still has
a kosher mechitzah.

Conclusion

I personally enjoy knowing something of the life of a gadol whose Torah I am studying. I hope
that our readers similarly enjoyed reading a bit about Rav Moshe Rosen while studying some of
his halachic rulings.

[i] The Sedei Chemed cites Rav Rosen in Volume 8 at the beginning of his exposition on the issues of Chanukah.
[ii] Most of the biographical information was obtained from Volume 3 of Rav Yisrael Shurin’s Morei Ha’umah and a published
interview of Rav Rosen’s grandson, Rav Hillel Litwack of Flatbush.
[iii] Finkelman, Shimon, The Chazon Ish, Page 35.
[iv] Finkelman, Shimon, The Chazon Ish, Page 43.

Shul Building, Part II

40
Introduction:12

Our batei kenesiyos and batei midrashos, the buildings that we designate for prayer and for study,
are referred to as our mikdash me’at, our holy buildings reminiscent of the the sanctity of
the Mishkan and the Beis Hamikdash.

As I mentioned in last week’s article, there is a halachic requirement to build a shul. To quote
the Rambam (Hilchos Tefillah 11:1-2), Any place that has ten Jews must have available a building
that they can enter to pray at every time of prayer.”

Changing neighborhoods

An interesting teshuvah from Rav Moshe relates to a shul building that had been originally
planned with a lower level to use as a social hall, with the shul intended to be on the upper floor.
They began to use the social hall for davening until they built the shul on top, but the neighborhood
began to change. Before they even finished the social hall, it became clear that they would have
no need to complete the structure of the building. They never finished the building, and instead,
directed the efforts and finances toward purchasing a new shul in a neighborhood to which people
were moving. The old shul, or, more accurately, the “social hall” part of the old shul building, is
at the stage where there is barely a minyan left, and the dwindling numbers imply that it is not
going to be very long until there is no functioning minyan. The question is that they would like to
sell the old building and use the money to complete the purchase of the new building. Furthermore,
the mikveh in the town is now in a neighborhood to which women are hesitant to travel, so they

12
https://www.yeshiva.co/midrash/41283

41
want to use the funds from the old shul building to defray the construction costs of a necessary
new mikveh.

Because of the specific circumstances involved, including that it is unlikely that people from the
outside will drop in to daven in this minyan anymore, Rav Moshe rules that they are permitted to
sell the building.

A similar responsum from Rav Moshe was when they needed to create a shul in a neighborhood
where there was a good chance that the Jewish community there would not last long. Rather than
declare their building a shul, they called it a library and used it as their shul. Rav Moshe suggests
that they might have been required to do so, since they knew from the outset that the days of the
Jewish community were numbered (Shu”t Igros Moshe, Orach Chayim, 2:44).

More seats?

At this point, let us discuss the third of our opening questions:

“Can there ever be a problem with adding more seats to a shul?”

There is an early responsum on the topic (Shu”t Harivosh #253), and the ruling might seem to us
counterintuitive. A wealthy individual purchased several seats in the shul many years before.
Probably, when the shul was built, the community had sold or perhaps even auctioned seats, at
prices depending on their location (think of the relative ticket prices on theater seats, lehavdil).
The seats are considered private property and are even at times rented out to others.

There is now a shortage of seats in the shul and the community would like to add new seats in
empty areas of the shul. The wealthy fellow claims that this will make it more difficult for him to
get to his seat, and that his own seat will be more crowded as a result. Can the community add
seats, notwithstanding his claim?

The Rivosh rules that the community cannot add new seats because the wealthy fellow already
owns the right to get to his seat in a comfortable way. However, the Rivosh rules that the
community may do the following to try to increase the availability of seats:

1. They may set a limit on the rental price of the existing seats.

2. They may pass a regulation that unused seats must be rented out.

Building two shuls

There is an old Jewish joke about the Jew stranded on a desert island who built two shuls, one
to daven in, and the other never to walk into. Is there any halachic basis to this habit we have of
opening several competing shullen in the same neighborhood?

42
Indeed, there are old responsa regarding this question. The Radbaz, one of the
greatest halachic authorities of the fifteenth century, was asked such a shaylah (Shu”t
Haradbaz #910).

A man named Yehudah Abualfas wanted to open a second shul in his town. The background
appears to be as follows: The community, which may have been located somewhere in Egypt, was
composed predominantly of families who originated from Tunisia, but there were individuals who
had settled there from other places. The shul followed the minhag of Tunis.

Yehudah Abualfas, who was born and raised in this community with Tunisian customs, and
everyone else living in the town, were members of the general community. They donated to the
community’s tzedakah fund, participated in its fees and taxes, and davened in the
community shul which followed minhagei Tunis.

Abualfas’s family originated from a place where they followed the customs of the Spanish
communities, not those of Tunisia. (Ashkenazim tend to group Sefardim and Edot
Hamizrah together as one group. Technically, Sefardim are those whose antecedents once lived in
Spain, whereas there were Jewish communities from Morocco to Iran and even farther east whose
ancestors never lived in Spain and should be called Edot Hamizrah.) Abualfas and his friends had
begun to develop their own community, consisting of members who identified as Sefardim and not
as Tunisians, and they wanted to create their own community following minhag Sefard.

Shul versus community

The Radbaz divides the question into two topics: May the Sefardim establish their own shul, and
may they establish their own community?

Regarding the establishing of their own community, which would mean that they would no longer
participate in the tzedakah fund and other taxes and fees of the general community,
the Radbaz rules that, once they have individually been paying as members of the main
community, they cannot separate from that community and create their own. As individuals, they
are bound to continue contributing to the main community.

However, regarding whether they may create their own shul, the Radbaz rules that they may, for
the following reason: since they do not want to be forced to daven with the rest of the community,
their desire to have their own shul will disturb their kavanah while davening.
The Radbaz discusses at length the issue of davening with kavanah. He notes that one is not
permitted to daven when one is angry, and that the Gemara states that, if the amora Rav Chanina
ever got angry, he did not daven that day. Furthermore, we see that any distraction is a reason why
one should not daven, even that of an enticing fragrance. Therefore, one may not daven when in
the presence of people that one does not like. The Radbaz further suggests that just as there is
a halacha that one will study Torah properly only when he is interested in the topic, a person will
be able to concentrate in his davening only when he is praying where he is happy. For these
reasons, the Radbaz rules that people who are not satisfied praying with the rest of the community
are permitted to organize their own shul. However, he rules that it is within the community’s
prerogative to ban the forming of other shullen when this will harm community interests.

43
Berov am hadras melech

The Radbaz then discusses the halachic preference of berov am hadras melech, a large group of
people (attending a mitzvah) honors the King (Rosh Hashanah 32b). This means that it is
preferable that a large group of people daven in one shul, rather than split among several
smaller shullen. The Radbaz concludes that, indeed, it is preferable for everyone to daven in the
same shul but, when people will be unhappy, that factor permits them to open their own shul.
The Radbaz closes this discussion with the following:

“Do not interpret my words to think that I believe that dividing into different shullen is good. G-d
forbid… However, we are required to try as hard as possible that everyone pray with a full heart
to his Father in Heaven. If it is impossible to pray with a full heart when davening in a shul that
one does not enjoy, and the people will constantly be arguing, having different shullen is the lesser
of the two evils.”

An earlier authority, the Rivosh (Shu”t Harivosh #253) mentions the same ruling — individuals
who want to establish their own breakaway minyan cannot be stopped, and that it is improper to
prevent this. However, if the members of the existing shul claim that their shul requires the income
or membership to keep going, one should examine whether the claim is truthful. If, indeed, it is,
one should work out a plan that accommodates the needs of both communities. (See
also Rema, Choshen Mishpat 162:7.)

Two shuls
At this point, we can now address the second of our opening questions: “Is it permitted to leave
a shul to start our own?”
The short answer is that there are circumstances when this is permitted, although, in an ideal world,
it is not preferred.

One shul

At this point, let us examine the first of our opening questions: “May we merge two
existent shullen, when each has its own minhagim?”

The answer is that, because of the rule of berov am hadras melech, it is preferable to
merge shuls into a larger entity, but, as I explained above, this will depend on circumstances (see
also Shu”t Binyan Tziyon 1:122). If the members understand that it is a greater honor to Hashem to
have a large shul with many people davening together, that is preferred.

Conclusion
Understanding how much concern Chazal placed in the relatively minor aspects
of davening should make us more aware of the fact that davening is our attempt at building a
relationship with Hashem. As the Kuzari notes, every day should have three high points — the

44
three times that we daven. We should gain our strength and inspiration for the rest of the day from
these three prayers.

The power of tefillah is very great. Man was created by Hashem as the only creation that has free
choice. Therefore, our serving Hashem and our davening is unique in the entire spectrum of
creation. Remember that we are actually speaking to Hashem, and that we are trying to build a
relationship with Him. Through tefillah, one can save lives, bring people closer to Hashem, and
overturn harsh decrees. We are required to believe in this power. One should not think, “Who am
I to daven to Hashem?” Rather, we must reinforce the concept that Hashem wants our tefillos, and
He listens to them!13

Needs and Rights in Selling a Shul

OC Siman 153: Needs and Rights in Selling a Shul

R. Gidon Rothstein writes:14

As matters have begun to open in New York, state and city, I have had the renewed privilege of
attending minyan again, and it has been more moving than I had thought it would be (especially
hearing birkhat kohanim for the first time, albeit not from actual kohanim.)

A downside has been seeing how hard it is to have people follow simple rules—good, well-
meaning people. Keeping a mask over mouth and nose is annoying, staying six feet away feels
artificial, and yet these are the ways we can move forward, and closer to the world we used to
have. I continue to believe one challenge of this et tzarah has been for us to remember we have to
find appropriate leaders and then follow them, without thinking we know better. When the leaders
13
https://rabbikaganoff.com/tag/shul/
14
https://www.torahmusings.com/2020/06/needs-and-rights-in-selling-a-shul/

45
set rules, we can lobby with them to adjust them, but we also must follow as followers. Or find
ways to become the leaders ourselves.

As for the laws of Beit Kenesset we have been studying, the rest of Siman 153 talks about selling
a shul when necessary, raising a first question: what counts as necessary? 153;6 permits it
for haspakat ha-talmidim or le-hasi yetomim, to support yeshiva students or provide the wedding
needs of orphans (who, especially in a time before life insurance, often had no financing of their
own).

Arukh HaShulhan notes these needs allow selling a sefer Torah as well, because the point of
having sifrei Torah and places to study them was to foster such study. Without students, books
sitting on shelves of an empty shul or Beit Midrash aren’t worth much.

The Reasons to Sell

He added, as did Mishnah Berurah, some people allowed selling a shul only to help
someone halakhically obligated in childbearing, piryah ve-rivyah, meaning male orphans.

Mishnah Berurah rejected the idea because women are included in the idea of la-shevet yetzarah,
from Yeshayahu 45;18, Hashem created the world to be settled, and people (men and women) must
be involved in settling it (especially by populating it). Helping a woman marry allows her, too, to
fulfill an obligation, of la-shevet, enough to permit selling a shul or Torah scroll.

Arukh Ha-Shulhan adds another reason already found in Levush—the Gemara makes clear we give
precedence to finding marriage partners for young women orphans before men, because, Arukh
Ha-Shulhan says, the shame of being single is greater for a woman, and we sell these items to
serve such lesser defined needs as well.

Mishnah Berurah points out all these sales are only if the money cannot be raised otherwise. In
paragraph 13, Shulhan Arukh talks about changing money collected for one purpose to another;
once the money has been used to build the shul, new needs should be provided for with another
collection, not selling the shul.

So, step one, a community can sell a shul for certain significant purposes, and the threshold of
significance less legalistic than we might think.

Step two limits us another way; 153;7 tells us of the Gemara’s distinction between a shul belonging
to a small town (a kefar), where such sales are acceptable, and one belonging to a kerakh, a large
city, where they are not.

World Jewry and Local Jewry

The surprise comes with the reason, that large-city shuls belong to Jews all over the world! Since
travelers pass through large cities regularly, shuls in such cities expect to be used by Jews from all
over, who therefore develop a stake in the shul, (regardless of their financial contributions or lack
of it), leaving the city people with no way to access their thoughts about whether to sell it.

46
Before we get to a solution, I linger on the underlying sense of interconnection. A big-
city shul brings together Jews from all over, who all have a stake and a share in the shul.

Arukh Ha-Shulhan in paragraph 17 makes clear it’s not about the money—a small-
town shul might have raised funds from outside of town and a big-city shul might have financed
it all on its own. Doesn’t matter, he says, the nature of the shul does. (Today, we might worry
this halakhah applies more broadly, because even relatively small towns have more stranger traffic
than in previous centuries. Arukh Ha-Shulhan in paragraph 24 assumes a kerakh includes only
cities where merchants and others gather regularly; to his view, we focus on gathering rather than
amount of traffic.)

The Central Individual of the Community

Paragraph seven offers one way out of the problem. If a city entrusts one person with the building
of the shul, has him make all the decisions (with the consent of the community, perhaps, although
he is the decider), his rights will extend to selling the shul should he come to think it the best
choice. Because his control was included at the start, the rights of world Jewry who could have
expected to travel and use this shul always was limited by the rights of this one individual.
Few large city shuls will give such power to one individual, however. Arukh Ha-
Shulhan thought Shulhan Arukh’s case was where the shul implicitly entrusted matters to one
person. Where the community explicitly made the person’s control a condition of the
building, Arukh Ha-Shulhan thought it would take effect. (I’m not sure this is a universal position;
my vague memory is that some authorities took the Gemara to mean world Jewry’s share in
such shuls prevented conditions as well.)

The more common route I have seen finds ways to be sure Jews from outside the city would clearly
see benefit in allowing this sale, such as if the existing shul has become irreparably decrepit.

When It Belongs to One Person

Another way out would be for one person to own the shul. Paragraph 10 presents a debate as to
whether one may sell a personal Torah scroll for lesser purposes than to study Torah or marry (or,
presumably, other mitzvot of sufficient weight, such as redeeming captives). For those who
permitted it, a shul belonging to one person might be similarly sellable.

Individuals have certain surprising rights within shuls, with significant limits as well. Paragraph
12 knows the possibility a community will give the shul-building concession to a family, ceding
to them the sole right to handle any construction of shuls. It is a full right, but not one they can
sell.

Should someone donate property for a shul, paragraph 14 tells us, and the non-Jewish government
prohibits shul building there, the person cannot retract the donation, because s/he did not qualify
it explicitly or fully enough. Nor can an individual use his/her ownership of a seat in shul to stop
others from participating in the shul in general (theoretically, each individual has rights as part of

47
the corporate entity and could enjoin others from using his/her part; Shulhan Arukh is telling us
people’s rights do not go that far).

Even with personal property lent to a shul, the owner must allow all community members equal
rights of use—s/he cannot prohibit a particular person from using his/her item.

The Right to Mitzvot

Individuals do develop certain rights within communities, however. 153;22 discusses someone
who “owned” a mitzvah, such as gelilah, wrapping the Torah scroll after it has been read.
“Owning” meant making an annual donation to the shul (when I was growing up, it was part of
the auctions on Simhat Torah, a probably questionable practice that was also a lot of fun for a child
to watch).

Shulhan Arukh speaks of someone who had owned the mitzvah and then stopped giving the
donation for it. Were poverty the problem, when the wheel of life comes around again, the donor
will have the right to return to his “ownership” (this is by far not simple—I once saw a responsum
of R. Ovadya Yosef, where two brothers had donated a parokhet, an Ark-covering, to their
community, and were miffed at others’ donating a newer one. R. Yosef, who was then Chief Rabbi
of Israel, had to work to help them find a compromise).

If the donor chose to forego the mitzvah that year—Shulhan Arukh might read as requiring that
the donor say he had plenty of money and just did not wish to have the mitzvah that year,
where Mishnah Berurah thinks the refraining itself, as long as there is every reason to think the
person has the money, makes the point—he does not have the right to demand the mitzvah be
restored to him.

There’s more to the chapter; I don’t pretend I’ve covered it all, only the parts I found most
interesting this time through. To me, the pieces that stood out were what it says about the
interconnections of Jews, where Jews from “outside” have to be considered, and where individuals
within a community have more power than we assume. A complicated mix in building well-
running communities.

48
 Synagogues are sold for the price of a used car

Cnaan Liphshiz writes:15

(JTA) — On a visit to the city of Slonim in Belarus, Ilona Reeves fell in love with a 380-year-old
dilapidated building that used to house one of the area’s largest and oldest synagogues.

Reeves, a 40-year-old author who lives in the Belarusian capital of Minsk, is a Christian, like
virtually everyone who lives in the country. And the synagogue hadn’t been operational since
before the Holocaust, when three quarters of Slonim residents were Jewish. Virtually all were
murdered by the Nazis.

Still, Reeves looked at the structure, which had fallen into disrepair after years of use as shops and
saw something she wanted to save.

“Standing outside the Great Synagogue of Slonim, I felt how small I am, we all are, in the face of
such architectural monuments and traditions they represent,” she said.

With money that she’d freed up by selling her apartment in Minsk — partly to buy the synagogue
— Reeves bought the synagogue in December for about $10,000 from the Slonim municipality on
the promise that she restores it. She was the sole bidder.

15
https://forward.com/news/465392/in-eastern-europe-historic-synagogues-are-sold-for-the-price-of-a-used-car/

49
The Slonim synagogue is just one of a number of similar structures to hit the market across Eastern
Europe in recent years, and Reeves is among a small group of people who have committed to their
upkeep.

“Buildings, including old buildings, that used to be synagogues appear on the market pretty
regularly in Eastern Europe, and for relatively affordable prices,” said Michael Mail, founder of
the U.K.-based Foundation for Jewish Heritage, which helps restore historic Jewish structures
across Europe.

“But there’s often a catch, which is that restoration is complicated and costly,” Mail added.

Reeves knows that firsthand. She is now working on raising $2 million for the restoration project,
which she hopes will take a decade, but some professionals have told her might go on for 25 years.

The city of Vitebsk, located about 130 miles farther northeast of Minsk, recently offered essentially
for free the hollowed remains of the Great Lubavitch Synagogue — where the family of the painter
Marc Chagall used to pray — to anyone willing to restore it.

In 2016, a coffee shop called Synagoga Café opened in the old synagogue of Trnava, Slovakia. A
non-Jewish contractor, Simon Stefunko, bought the crumbling building some years earlier,
renovated it according to the city’s strict preservation requirements and reopened it as an upscale
hangout.

Financially, creating Synagoga Café didn’t make any sense, Stefunko said. The renovations cost
millions of dollars that the coffee shop didn’t begin to mitigate even before it was shuttered last
year due to the COVID-19 pandemic, he said. But he did it anyway “so something would remain
from the Jewish community here,” Stefunko said. “I think it’s beautiful.”

The offloading of restoration costs represents the latest strategy for managing a glut of historical
Jewish structures that have fallen into disrepair since most of Europe’s Jews were murdered in the
Holocaust.

Before the genocide, Europe had an estimated 17,000 synagogues. Only about 3,300 of the
structures remain standing today. Among those, only 776, or 23%, are being used as synagogues,
according to the Foundation for Jewish Heritage.

Most of the surviving synagogues are located in Eastern Europe, where most of the structures that
remained standing were nationalized following World War II by communist authorities who were
anti-religious and often anti-Semitic.

Decimated by the Holocaust and the wave of emigration that followed the fall of communism,
Jewish communities in places like Slonim and Vitebsk had virtually disappeared, leaving their
former institutions in government hands.

In Belarus, which has a dictatorship with no laws for restitution of confiscated Jewish property,
many of these structures were listed for protection by local authorities that lack the resources to

50
restore them. Making structural changes to buildings that are listed for protection is difficult and
often illegal, requiring special permission from the state or municipality. The protected status often
brings down the market price of the buildings because developers have no way of turning a profit
by purchasing them.

But many buildings that had housed historical synagogues in Eastern Europe are not listed,
meaning once they are sold to private owners they can be altered and even demolished.

The former Great Synagogue in the small town of Ostrino, in western Belarus, is on sale in an
auction where the minimum bid is about $40. The new owner will face some requirements to
preserve it but may use parts as a warehouse or residential unit.

And in 2019, a 19th-century building that once was a synagogue in the village of Porazava, near
Slonim, was sold for $6,000 to be used as a warehouse.

Similar situations occur also in Western Europe. In 2018, a 200-year-old synagogue in the city of
Deventer, in the eastern Netherlands, became a restaurant after its upkeep became unaffordable to
the local community, which includes a handful Jews.

Local governments in Eastern Europe have given back many properties that communist regimes
had confiscated from Christian and Jewish faith communities.

Christian communities have been able to reclaim, restore or trade up many of the structures
returned to them, sometimes with funding from the Vatican and the Orthodox Church.

Similar movement has also happened with some properties given back to local Jews, though with
far fewer deep pockets of support.

In 2002, the municipality of Babruisk in eastern Belarus handed back to the local Jewish
community a former synagogue that had been used as an army warehouse and later a tailor shop.
The building, the only one of the city’s 42 synagogues still standing, was restored and inaugurated
as a synagogue thanks to the fundraising efforts of an energetic local rabbi, Shaul Hababo.

In Moldova, Rabbi Shimshon Izakson is hoping to pull off a similar transformation at the former
Rabbi Yehuda Ţirilson yeshiva and synagogue compound — a massive complex in downtown
Chisinau that is so dilapidated that only the external walls remain.

But other times, Jewish communities that inherited historic former synagogues stolen from them
when they were much larger were not able or willing to preserve them to the satisfaction of their
own members.

51
 The Great Synagogue of Brody in Ukraine, pictured in 2012

Earlier this month, a massive chunk of the roof of the 18th-century Great Synagogue of Brody in
western Ukraine collapsed. Another part of the building, which is government-owned and listed
as a monument for preservation, imploded in 2006. Severely damaged in World War II by German
troops who tried to blow it up, what remains of the synagogue is held up by structural scaffolding.
No Jews live today in Brody, which used to have thousands of Jewish residents.

https://www.facebook.com/114602779958319/videos/456222338572879/

The Jewish community of Satu Mare in northern Romania consists of about 100 members.
Following restitution negotiations in the 1990s, it owns an impressive 129 cemeteries and four
synagogues, which are falling into disrepair because the community cannot afford to maintain
them.

“In truth, this building is a drain on our resources, as are the hundreds of graves we need to preserve
and fence,” Paul Decsei, the community’s pointman for managing the assets, told the Jewish
Telegraphic Agency in 2017 from inside the city’s main synagogue, the Decebal Street Synagogue,
an imposing but crumbling 19th-century structure. “But on the other hand, we can’t walk away
from any of it. It’s our heritage and we have a responsibility toward it.”

52
 Decebal Street Synagogue, Satu Mare

That has also been the case with the Chevra Tehilim prayer house in Krakow, Poland. In 2016, the
community-owned structure, which features culturally significant decorations on its walls, was
leased by the Jewish Community of Krakow and reopened as a trendy nightclub called Hevre,
despite protests by some community members who said it ruined the structure.

Reeves, who bought the building in Slonim before she had even seen its interior, cited its beauty
as her reason to go ahead and make the purchase. She envisions a cultural or community space
where Judaism would have a prominent place.

As a practicing churchgoer who grew up during communism, Reeves’ decision was rooted in her
religious sentiment.

“I’ve always had a dream to build a church. Even a small, wooden one,” Reeves, a mother of one
son, told JTA. “With the Slonim synagogue project, it feels like I’m halfway there. Or perhaps
I’ve already met the goal.”

53
 The cultural impact of public squares in ancient Europe

Manvi Khandelwal writes:16

Introduction

Public Square is one of the main pillars in life that has effects on the social quality of the urban
space and improving the level of social interaction and cultural values of citizens. Considering
the repercussions of public space in quality of social life, in many modern cities, the public squares
that have been designed and constructed recently, are not responsible for social needs,
improvement of communication, and the social relation of citizens. Because of poor conditions of
cities due to lack of attention to cultural, sociological, and psychological needs, therefore
inspecting the contributing factors on urban quality of successful historical public squares for
improving quality of life.

Content

The public squares are one of the greatest inventions of the European cities as the central town
square or marketplace. It was a uniquely European invention, intimately connected to the
development of democracy and representation of self-government.

16
https://www.re-thinkingthefuture.com/architectural-styles/a2800-the-cultural-impact-of-public-squares-in-ancient-europe/

54
 Grand Place, Brussels

Compared with many other cities of the world, European cities are designed amazingly with high-
quality public spaces, which continue to be an integral part of social and cultural life.

The beauty and richness of European architecture, the historical, and everyday significance have
been well documented in their lives.

Extension of privatization and decline to these public squares is not conceivable in many European
cities. As well-maintained places, they are joyful for the residents and visitors.

Europeans see these public spaces are part of the fabric of their cities, which they value highly and
with which they identify.

55
 Piazza Del Camp, Siena

The public square is not just a place for a meeting, but an urban safety valve. It is a place where
people come to celebrate, rip, and unzip the certainties of everyday life.

The European square offers the most scintillating peep into the fascinating big picture connecting
the past with the present. Starting with the 6th-century Agora of Greece, public spaces have spread
across the continent as everlasting symbols of the past.

The Forum or Piazza (Italy), Markt (Netherlands), Place (France) Praça (Portugal), Platz
(Germany), Námesti (Czech), Rynek (Poland) or Trg (Croatia), may be identified by different
names, but their essence binds them together.

56
 Old Town Square, Prague

Although these European squares are naturally the focus of attention, London with its restful, if
all-too-often locked, garden squares, Turin with its glorious colonnaded Baroque piazzas, Venice
with its Campi, ancient fields long paved over.

After the narrow streets and maze-like alleys of the cities, these squares are a physical and
psychological release, a magical relief.

57
Piazza San Marco, Venice
Sometimes squares already exist, it can shape according to its users and occupants of space.

They tend to shape their image, boundaries, and so on. It means that users are responsible for the
design of their public squares, create a sense of place and flexibility, add symbolic meanings, and
provide open-ended activities.

Piazza Navona, Rome

Historical public squares are open public spaces, which reflect the identity and cultural background
of the cities.

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They are where people gather, their social life takes place, since ancient times. In the last few
decades, many public squares have lost their function and role due to the changes in the use of
public spaces.

Rynek Glowny, Krakow

Well managed festivals and other cultural events can have a very positive effect on the urban
environment, drawing the community together and bringing social, economic, and environmental
benefits.

The public squares act as a catalyst for community engagement. These European squares are a
place for dialogue and discussion, meetings and greetings, for experiences to be shared and bonds
to form.

They are mainly stories about their lives and experiences, details about health and wealth, plans,
and hopes.

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 Plaza Mayor, Salamanca

The European squares foster sociability to give pleasure to each other, not to enhance one’s status
or position, but to increase each other’s sense of well-being.

Sociability may involve gossiping, bantering, storytelling, joking, flirtation, intermixed with
seriousness, concern for the other, and expressions of support.

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 Trafalgar Square, London

Sociability is the basis of many of the cultural activities and events that make life on the square
joyful and meaningful. In these sociable interactions people do not encounter each other in terms
of specific roles, for instance, employer-employee, or cashier-customer, but as complete human
beings.

The status of each, their social or economic position, knowledge, or fame is not as important as
personal qualities, graciousness, cordiality, and charm.

Old Town Square, Prague

In this sense, sociability makes for more cultural relations. Especially for children and youth, the
European square offers a learning environment.

Children learn by repeated observation, imitation, and practice in relating to a range of adults in
multiple contexts.

And, if they are fortunate, children get a sense of the pleasure some experience in being with,
meeting, and talking to each other.

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 Piazza San Marco, Venice

The violent history of public squares

Large urban spaces date back to ancient Greece. They have always been places for peaceful

gatherings and violent protests,

Jonathan Glancey writes:17

There may have been earlier public squares, yet the ancient Greeks with their agora, or central
meeting place at the heart of their cities, made this form of urban space not just famous, but
compelling too. Every public square since, not just in the Western world, but around the globe, has
had something of the agora about it. This is where tradespeople and philosophers, poets and

17
https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20141203-blood-on-the-streets

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politicians rubbed shoulders and where, too, the public complained and demonstrated and, at times,
were met, dispersed and even slaughtered by forces of the regimes they tried to take to task.

So, while the agora was a special and often hugely enjoyable place, it should be no surprise that it
also gave us the word agoraphobia, a fear of public places. For centuries, and certainly today,
public squares have been places of protest, of violence and even revolution. The roll call of
disturbing public squares is long: Tahrir, Taksim, Tiananmen, Trafalgar. And this is just the entry
for ‘T’.

Place de la Concorde, despite its name, was anything but peaceful during the 1968 student riots in
Paris. Palace Square, St Petersburg, will be associated forever with the October Revolution that
brought Lenin and the Bolsheviks to power in 1917. Moscow’s Red Square is a vast space we
associate with Lenin’s tomb and bombastic annual displays of Soviet, and now Russian, military
hardware. The Plaza de la Revolución, Havana, is where, in his prime, Fidel Castro would address
crowds a million strong in the years following the revolution that overthrew the US-backed dictator
Fulgencio Batista in 1959.

Palace Square in St Petersburg, Russia, was a focal point of the Bolshevik

revolution in 1917

Recently, scenes of violence concentrated in public squares have been screened in our homes from
Tripoli, Istanbul, Cairo and Kiev, and vast parades of political-military power brought to us from
Beijing and Pyongyang. Some of the most violent protests in Britain in living memory took place
in Trafalgar Square in 1990 over the ill-advised poll tax proposed by Margaret Thatcher’s
Conservative government.

No matter how politically mature and socially content a major city might seem, its public squares
are always at risk, so history tells us of erupting into violence. The public square is not just a
meeting place, but an urban safety valve. It is a place, too, where people come to celebrate, to let
rip, to unzip the certainties of everyday life.

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 Tahrir Square in Cairo, Egypt, was the site of protests against both Hosni
Mubarak and his successor, Mohammed Morsi

Focal point
Because they are the central focus of most major cities, they have also long been places where
much architectural intelligence, money and culture have been expended. The Forum in ancient
Rome, long a ruin, was made magnificent by the Emperor Augustus, while other Roman squares
from the 1st to the 20th centuries are an essential part of the life of the Eternal City. Who could
fail to be moved by the Pantheon, the domed temple to all the gods that fills one side of the Piazza
della Rotunda? Who can fail to share in la dolce vita at the nearby Piazza Navona in the early
evening as the young, and young at heart, parade between the voluptuous fountains of this Baroque
urban stage set? And, whatever your religious beliefs, or lack of them, St Peter’s Square is a
thrilling place to be, with crowds held happily in the embrace of the magnificent 17th Century
colonnade created by Gian Lorenzo Bernini.

Although these great city squares are naturally the focus of attention, many of the world’s most
impressive and enjoyable city centres boast whole sequences and networks of squares: London
with its restful, if all too-often locked, garden squares; Turin with its glorious colonnaded Baroque
piazzas; Venice with its campi, ancient fields long paved over. Rarely less than magical, these are
often a relief – a physical and psychological release – after the city’s narrow streets and maze-like
alleys.

The grandest of these is Venice’s Piazza San Marco, a square Napoleon Bonaparte is said to have
described as “the drawing room of Europe”. Although often too popular for anyone’s comfort, this
remains an enchanting space. Enclosed on three sides by regimented ranks of colonnaded classical
buildings, the fourth opens up to the fulsome, Byzantine glory of Saint Mark’s Basilica and its
celebrated campanile, rebuilt in 1912 after the original collapsed a decade earlier, killing no one
except the caretaker’s unfortunate cat.

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 The Piazza San Marco symbolised the economic and political power of Venice
and was called “the drawing room of Europe” by Napoleon

When city squares get too big, they lose any sense of embracing their public. Squares like
Tiananmen and perhaps even Mexico City’s Plaza de la Constitución – the great meeting place of
the former Aztec city, Tenochtitlan – can induce agoraphobia in almost anyone. The former was
extended in the late 1950s by the Chinese leader Mao Zedong, who wanted nothing less than the
world’s biggest public square. Other contenders for this dubious honour like Merdeka Square,
Jakarta, or Xinghai Square in Dalian, the seaport in China’s Liaoning Province, are more urban
parks than city squares.

Heart of the city

On sultry summer or bleak winter days, Tiananmen Square is a decidedly challenging terrain. The
might of the People’s Republic was challenged here in 1989 by a popular pro-democracy
movement. On 5 June of that year, police and military opened fire, killing hundreds and possibly
thousands of protestors. Tiananmen Square is named after Tiananmen Gate, or the Gate of
Heavenly Peace. The most haunting image from that horrendous day was that of a lone man,
dressed in white shirt and carrying a shopping bag in both hands, facing down and taunting a
column of battle tanks rumbling along Chang’an Avenueat the north end of the square. No one
admits to knowing who this brave man was or what happened to him: Tiananmen Square
swallowed him up.

In recent years, not only have many of the world’s major cities invested in their historic squares,
but the very idea of the piazza, plaza or square has become almost fashionable. Run-down squares
in the United States are coming alive again, like Houston and Pittsburgh’s Market Squares and
Detroit’s Campus Martius, its name alone taking us back to the proud public spaces of imperial
Rome. Perhaps the key to the popularity of these revived squares is that they are truly places for
people to meet. This might sound all too obvious, and yet some of the world’s grandest squares

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are little more than giant junctions and speedways for furiously fast traffic. The Place de la
Concorde in Paris, for example, is always something of a disappointment because it is so very
difficult to walk, let alone meet here.

There has long been a tendency, though, for imperious political regimes, including those of
Napoleon and Mao Zedong, to sweep away the messy, uncertain human life that gave the
Greek agora its special place in the Athens of Pericles, and to replace its quotidian life with the
pomp of processions, politics and soldiery.

And yet despite the ways cities have grown and sprawled, their centres are especially important.

At their very heart is the agora, the democratic meeting place: the public square.

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 Genius of the European Square

Suzanne H. Crowhurst Lennard writes:18

One of the greatest inventions of the European city, indeed one could not conceive of most
European cities without it, is the central town square or marketplace. This was a uniquely European
invention, intimately connected to the development of democratic and representational self-
government.

18
https://www.livablecities.org/articles/genius-european-square

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Whether called agora, forum, piazza, plaza, Platz, platea, piata, námesti, rynek, trg or market place
the main square has been a distinguishing characteristic of European cities in one form or another
for over two thousand years. During the eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth centuries hundreds of
market squares were created as the center of new European cities from Spain to Sweden and from
Belgium to Hungary. The medieval marketplace fostered the development of community, culture
and democracy.

What is unique about the traditional European square?

The traditional European town square is an urban space surrounded by an almost continuous wall
of buildings, with small entrances and exits leading in and out, creating the feeling of an outdoor
salon or ballroom. Most of the surrounding buildings are what we now call mixed-use shop/houses.
They are complemented by important civic and religious edifices that are frequently, though not
always, part of the contiguous urban fabric of the square, and emphasize its significance as the
most important place in the city. In many Polish cities (Poznan, Krakow, Chewmno, Tarnow), and
some Czech cities (Olomouc) the importance of city hall is further accentuated by its placement at
the center of the square.

There is no simple formula for a successful square, and every square is unique. The greatest squares
are fan shaped (Siena), trapezoidal (Venice's Piazza San Marco), rectangular (Ascoli Piceno),
triangular (Tübingen), funnel shaped (Telc), elliptical (Vigevano), oval (Verona), square
(Salamanca), square-doughnut shaped (Krakow), or triangular-doughnut shaped (Olomouc), or
they are broadened streets visually closed at each end (Landshut).

The placement of buildings around the perimeter transforms the square into a three-dimensional
composition; more imposing buildings, spires and campanile articulate the vertical axis, increasing
dramatic effects.

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Visual enclosure

The sense of inclusion", the feeling that one is a member of the neighborhood, or of the city, is
subtly reinforced by the square's visual enclosure.

Being "inside" the square, surrounded by continuous building walls, with the sky as a ceiling,
makes one feel temporarily "at home", and nurtures the citizen's sense of belonging.

The space formed by the buildings feels like a well-proportioned room or a grand hall. The curved
walls of Siena's Piazza Il Campo seem to enclose you like a warm embrace.

Entrances may be concealed beneath arcades, as in Salamanca's Plaza Mayor, or beneath

sottoporteghi, as in Venice.

Passing through a dark arch heightens the experience of crossing the threshold and raises one's
awareness of entering the public arena.

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Dialogue on the Square

The European square is a place for dialogue and discussion, meetings and greetings, for shared
experiences and forming bonds. What do people talk about in squares? No subject is taboo! Mainly
they exchange stories about their lives and experiences; details about family, work, state of health,
plans and hopes. This significant conversation and dialogue the ultimate expression of life in the
city" (Mumford) creates community. As Wendell Berry observes, "community exists only when
people know each other’s stories".

Sociability and well-being

The European square fosters sociability, that is, interaction for its own sake, to give pleasure to
each other, not to enhance one's status or position, but to increase each other's sense of well-being.
Sociability may involve gossiping, bantering, storytelling, joking, flirtation, intermixed with
seriousness, concern for the other and expressions of support, even love!

Sociability is the basis of many of the activities and events that make social life on the square
joyful and meaningful. In these sociable interactions people do not encounter each other in terms
of specific roles, as for instance employer-employee, or cashier-customer, but as complete human
beings. The status of each, their social or economic position, knowledge or fame is not as important
as personal qualities, graciousness, cordiality and charm (Simmel). In this sense sociability makes
for more democratic relations.

The European square as teacher

Especially for children and youth the European square offers an important learning environment.
How do children and youth learn the behavior, the attitudes, the skills that transform them into

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competent, responsible adults capable of, and interested in participating in the life of their
community? Children learn by repeated observation, imitation and practice in relating to a range
of adults in multiple contexts.

What do they observe to imitate, to practice and to learn from? For example, they learn how parents
express affection towards children (by holding, touching, stroking, patting, etc.); how adults show
interest and attention towards each other and towards children; how couples’ express tenderness
towards each other; how, as a general rule, persons on European squares act to acknowledge and
confirm each other’s presence. And, if they are fortunate, children get a sense of the pleasure some
experience in being with, meeting and talking to each other.

Farmers' Markets
It was the open-air market activity in Ancient Greece, classical Rome and in the Middle Ages, that,
by drawing everyone together, buyers and sellers, rich and poor, old and young, and providing a
catalyst for dialogue among the whole population, generated democratic decision making and a
self-governing system…

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Even today the market is the most powerful mechanism for generating social life and economic
activity on the square, more powerful than any other activity on the square, more potent than the
design characteristics of the square, and even more influential than the buildings and building uses
around the square.

Freiburg's daily market on Münsterplatz, where local farmers sell their own produce on the north
side of the cathedral and wholesalers and craftspeople fill the area south of the cathedral, is one of
the most significant factors in Freiburg's success as a center of regional commercial activity, and
in generating dialogue and community engagement. City officials let it be known that, if citizens
wish to talk unofficially outside office hours, they may be found at the Saturday morning market.

Democratic dialogue, civic engagement

The great diversity of users, the varied viewpoints and opinions that come together on the square,
combined with the presence of city hall mean that civic issues are often vehemently debated on
the square.

In Greece, Italy and Spain it is most frequently the men who gather just before lunch or in the
evening to discuss the actions of a city council member, plans for a new building, the threatened
strike of factory workers or proposals to resolve an ecological problem.

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On the Venetian campo many are involved in discussions of issues affecting Venice - the most
recent flooding and whether the proposed technological solution (Moses Gates) will cause an even
greater ecological disaster; whether those responsible for the fire at the Fenice theater will be
punished; the gondoliers' strike to force the city to reduce speed limits for motor taxis; or how to
prevent the administration from buying more of the poorly designed new vaporetti (water buses).

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Summary
The square is the essence of the European city, epitomizing the community's heritage and
symbolizing its identity. In fostering the cooperative, entrepreneurial, cultural, and democratically
organized urban civilization that was a uniquely European invention the multi-functional market
square is a true symbol of unity for the European Community.

If these important social functions of the European square are not understood, and if mechanisms
are not found to protect the traditional multi-functional character of the European square, a
powerful context for socialization, acculturation, and democratization of society will be lost.

Venice Jewish Ghetto

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19

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https://static1.squarespace.com/static/58b2397a2e69cf75a40cc057/t/5999e71b4c0dbfbeebed458a/1503258400531/A+Return+t
o+the+Town+Square+by+Stephanie+Rouse.pdf

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