OzTorah

Q. Do Jewish books get a blessing before they are printed?

A. Many books open with the commendation or blessing of a great scholar or scholars.

In the case of rabbinic books this kind of commendation is called a Haskamah, an approval or approbation.

In 16th century Italy the rabbis meeting at Ferrera decided that Hebrew books had to be approved by three rabbis and a layman prior to publication, with the aim of preventing offensive material being published and causing dissension in the community.

Modern-day rabbinic writings often carry the Haskamah of one or more leading authorities as testimony to the religiosity and expertise of the author.

Not all Jewish books bear a Haskamah but the same purpose is often served by a book launching in which a leading personality commends the book to the public.

Because Moses was conscious of his speech defects, Aaron acted as his spokesman before Pharaoh. However, when it came to the Israelite people themselves, Moses was the speaker.

The two brothers worked well together and consulted one another about what to say and how to say it.

When God said, in the plural, “Speak to all the congregation of Israel…” (Ex. 12:3), they were both on the same spiritual wavelength and it appeared that they were both speaking (Rashi, quoting the M’chilta).

This is real brotherliness, real collegiality, without jealousy, rivalry or jockeying for position – a rare blessing. Rabbinic sources apply Psalm 85:11 to Moses and Aaron – “Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed one another”.

Brotherly love, understanding and co-operation is also the ideal for international relations, when nations can say, “Have we not all one Father? Has not one God created us?” (Mal. 2:10).

At present, the most that nations are usually prepared to do is to co-operate for reasons of expediency, when it is in their joint interest to do so. That’s already an achievement, but in messianic times they will rise to a higher level and kiss one another in righteousness and peace.

One of the sources of the command of tefillin is the final section of this week’s sidra.

God’s deliverance of the Israelites with “a strong hand and an outstretched arm” is to be recalled by means of “a sign on your hand and a reminder between your eyes” (Ex. 13:9).

The tefillin are attached to the person of a male Jew to indicate that he is bound to God, to the Divine commandments and to Jewish history.

The tefillin are obligatory upon every Jewish male, hopefully for all three reasons. But there are different categories of Jews.

Some live a Jewish life because of belief; for them the tefillin are a symbol of love for the Almighty.

Some whose faith is not so strong live a Jewish life because Jewish observance is a mark of Jewish identity; for them the tefillin are a symbol of the pattern of commandments and practices that make Jews distinctive.

Some are strong neither in faith nor in practice but they still have a bond with Jewish peoplehood; for them the tefillin are a connecting link with national history.

Every Jew is precious, every Jew is crucial, every Jew is an asset. Even if some are not (yet) ready for full spiritual commitment, whatever they do as Jews and for Judaism is valuable to them and valuable to the Jewish heritage.

Q. When did Jews develop their liking for gefilte fish?

A. Eating fish on Erev Shabbat – gefilte or otherwise – has ancient origins.

Fish was fed to the slaves in Egypt; complaining in the wilderness of a monotonous diet of manna, the people said, “In Egypt we ate fish for the asking, cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic” (Num. 11:5-6).

What varieties of fish were there in Egypt? Probably carp, pike and mullet, whether these are identical with the modern fish known by these names or not. According to Abravanel, the fish the slaves were given was cooked with cucumbers, leeks, etc., to improve the taste.

“Egyptian fish” is mentioned in the Mishnah, and in Eretz Yisra’el itself Acco was a centre of the fishing industry, though fish also came from the Kinneret, Mediterranean Sea and Jordan River. Rashi (on Gen. 1:10) compares the taste of fish from various places and says fish from Sidon is better than from Acco and fish from Aspamia is better still.

It became customary to eat fish for the Shabbat meal – often fried fish (Gen. R. 72:3).

The Jewish taste for fish on Shabbat may be the explanation for the idea that life for the righteous in the World to Come will include a meal derived from the giant fish known as Leviathan, referred to in Job and elsewhere. As a result, the hope of redemption is often symbolised by a fish, with the additional possibility that the fertility associated with fishes suggested the plenteous food which will be available for all in messianic times.

Books of Jewish customs often depict fish meals on Shabbat. In many places these meals included stuffed fish, the forerunner of today’s gefilte fish, which some communities made sweet and others sour.

Though gefilte fish is a delicacy, it may have developed for economic reasons; the poor found that the fish went further when minced and mixed with bread, flour, etc.

As gefilte fish does not contain bones, it is also possible that the dish may have developed as a practical way to eat fish on Shabbat while avoiding the prohibition of Borer (“separation”) – one of the 39 Biblical prohibitions of Shabbat – which would include separating out bones from fish.

It used to be said in Anglo-Jewry that eating fish on Friday night had additional reasons of religious scruple.

A stranger in town who was invited to a Jewish home for a Shabbat meal could not always be certain of his hosts’ degree of orthodoxy, so a fish meal avoided questions as to whether the meat was kosher.

Q. Why do we call a bridegroom to the Torah?

A. According to Pirkei d’Rabbi Eliezer, when King Solomon built the Temple he wanted it to be a place of lovingkindness. Therefore he installed two special gates in the building, one for bridegrooms and one for mourners. On Shabbat the congregation would sit near these gates and when a bridegroom entered they said, “May He who dwells in this house cause you to rejoice”; when a mourner entered they prayed that God might console him.

When the Temple was destroyed, these customs were adapted to the new circumstances and congregations continued to show lovingkindness by appropriately receiving grooms and mourners respectively.