Lemaan Yishmeu (Halacha Institute) · Episode 309 · 3 Tammuz 5785 · 59:58
The Virtue and Sanctity of Jewish Customs
Guest: Rabbi Yaakov Horowitz
Episode description
In this class, Rabbi Yaakov Horowitz will explain: What is a custom? What does it mean that a custom is “Torah”? How are customs established? The importance of observing customs, the distinction and sanctity of Jewish customs, and more... To visit the Machon Halacha website click here For hundreds more video classes, visit the ' Halacha Media ' website. For our YouTube channel click here
Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.
00:02 Speaker 1 You’re listening to “Lema’an Yishme’u,” a podcast of Machon Halacha Chabad.
00:09 Speaker 2 Our topic today is the importance and holiness of Jewish customs. “A Jewish custom is Torah.” This saying has been accepted by the great Torah sages throughout the generations—early and later authorities, Sephardim and Ashkenazim, from East and West. It was also often on the Rebbe’s lips, and he mentioned it countless times. The saying consists essentially of three words: custom, Jewish, Torah. With Hashem’s help, we’ll explain them one by one. First, custom. What is a custom? Well, it’s something that isn’t written in the Written Torah or the Oral Torah; it isn’t a Torah law or a rabbinic law. Rather, it’s what our holy fathers and mothers practiced through the generations. And about this, we say... Let’s put it this way: let’s take a few examples of customs, starting at the beginning of the year. Eating an apple dipped in honey on Rosh Hashanah night, for example, and the symbolic foods eaten for a good year are customs mentioned in Shulchan Aruch, section 583. Then there’s the custom of kapparos on Erev Yom Kippur. That, too, is an important custom brought in Shulchan Aruch, section 605—an entire section devoted just to this subject, entitled “The custom of kapparos on Erev Yom Kippur.” The custom of dancing the hakafos with joy on Simchas Torah is also an important custom, brought in Shulchan Aruch, section 669. Incidentally, it’s worth noting that many Jews who do not yet observe Torah and mitzvos in the fullest sense also practice these customs. Apparently, they have great and special importance. Well, of these customs and many others, we say, “A Jewish custom is Torah.” What does “Torah” mean? A custom isn’t just something nice. It isn’t folk culture or some tradition handed down from your father or grandmother. Not at all. A custom is Torah. A Jewish custom is Torah. Now it’s worth looking closely at the precise words the great Torah sages used: “Torah.” “A Jewish custom is Torah.” What is the deeper meaning of the word “Torah”? Perhaps it means Torah in the sense of instruction. Perhaps it means that a custom is binding, like a law in the Torah.
03:11 Speaker 2 But if they had meant any of those things, they could have said so more simply: “A Jewish custom is an instruction,” “A Jewish custom is a law,” or “A Jewish custom is binding.” That’s not what they said. They said, “A Jewish custom is Torah.” We need to understand the deeper meaning of the word “Torah,” beyond all the meanings mentioned above. Those are certainly correct, but there is something deeper contained in the words of the great Torah sages. We need to understand what it is. So, Torah. What is Torah? The essence of Torah is that it comes from Heaven. As the Torah itself defines its nature in the account of the Giving of the Torah, after we received it: “You have seen that I spoke with you from Heaven.” That means Torah is something spiritual, heavenly, exalted, Divine. We can sharpen and illustrate the point through a teaching of our Sages: “If someone tells you there is wisdom among the nations, believe him. If he tells you there is Torah among the nations, do not believe him.” What is the difference? Wisdom is human intellect. Of course, Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave us our intellect. Intellect is a gift; our intellect and talents are gifts from Above. But clearly, a person’s intellect is human, regardless of whether he uses it better or worse, or whether he is right or wrong. Our intellect is ours. It is human, worldly intellect, mundane in its essence. Torah, by contrast, is Divine intellect, expressing the wisdom and will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Torah therefore has Divine content and essence. As the Alter Rebbe says in Tanya, chapter 2, quoting the Rambam, “He and His wisdom are one.” Or, in the words of the Zohar, “The Torah and Hakadosh Boruch Hu are entirely one.” In other words, when you say “Torah,” you are saying “Hakadosh Boruch Hu.” Perhaps we should pause over the words “Hakadosh Boruch Hu.” Chassidus explains their meaning. “Kadosh,” holy,
05:51 Speaker 2 means set apart. Hakadosh Boruch Hu, then, is beyond anything we can comprehend. Whatever we might say of Him, He is beyond that. Yes, Hakadosh Boruch Hu, Who transcends and is above all worlds, gave us the holy Torah, to the Jewish people, a holy nation. And the holy Torah links and connects us, the Jewish people, with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. As the Zohar says, “Three bonds are bound together: the Jewish people, the Torah, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu.” So when we say, “A Jewish custom is Torah,” we mean that it is a part of the Torah. Or, to put it more sharply: it is as though we were saying that the Torah has three parts: A. the Written Torah; B. the Oral Torah; C. Jewish customs, which are also Torah. The practices our holy fathers and mothers observed through the generations—yes, Jewish custom is thus part of the holy Torah given from Heaven, and it has Divine spiritual importance and value. To illustrate the holiness of customs, we might take the custom of Mimouna as an example. Yes. I mean to emphasize the importance and holiness of customs in contrast to the cheap image and folk-culture character attributed to them today. So let’s take Mimouna as an example. It is, in fact, a holy Jewish custom practiced by Moroccan Jews. Its purpose is to strengthen faith: “Mimouna” is related to the word for faith. If Pesach is a festival of Geulah, then at its conclusion they strengthen their faith in the future Geulah, which will come soon through Moshiach Tzidkeinu. Just as Chabad custom is to hold a Moshiach Seudah at the end of Pesach, a practice originating with the Baal Shem Tov, Moroccan Jews customarily hold a Mimouna celebration after Pesach. Faith. Yet in our time, it has turned into a kind of folk festival. People go to Sacher Park or other public parks with a barbecue and, of course, mufleta, and invite public figures such as the mayor
08:42 Speaker 2 or the prime minister or the president, along with performers, singers and dancers. And there is no shortage of outward trappings there, right? That’s how Mimouna is celebrated. This comes from the mistaken notion that a Jewish custom—in this case, Mimouna—is just a nice tradition or folk practice we had back in Morocco. And if you think that way, it’s hardly surprising, or out of the question, to say that it was practiced one way in the family circle in Morocco, but here, where we’re more advanced and enlightened, we prefer to do it differently. All this happens because people see the custom as folk culture. But Heaven forbid that we should say that. The custom of Mimouna is holy, just as all Jewish customs are holy, and they are part of the Torah. To explore this more deeply and make it clearer, it’s worth noticing the following interesting point. Each of the three categories we mentioned—Torah laws, rabbinic laws, and Jewish customs—has two sides: doing and refraining, positive mitzvos and prohibitions. Some things we observe by taking action, and others by refraining from action. And just as this is true of Torah and rabbinic laws, it is also true of customs. There are customs that call for doing something and customs that call for refraining from something. Take 15 Shvat, for example. It has a number of customs. A custom that involves doing something is the well-known practice of eating fruit on 15 Shvat. Customs that involve refraining are not saying Tachanun, delivering eulogies, or fasting. Now let’s consider for a moment the nature of Torah and rabbinic mitzvos, from which we can draw a parallel to customs. As we know, we are preparing for the revelation of Moshiach Tzidkeinu, who will be revealed soon. Of the people who will live at the time of his revelation, it is said, “The earth will be filled with the knowledge of Hashem as the waters cover the sea.” Yes. What does “the earth” mean? It doesn’t mean Eretz Yisroel; it means the entire world, as the Rambam says explicitly: “There will be no occupation”
11:16 Speaker 2 the whole world, but only to know Hashem. And so, the earth will be full—the whole world. It also says: “The glory of Hashem will be revealed, and all flesh will see together that the mouth of Hashem has spoken.” Physical flesh will be refined and become a vessel for the revelation of G-dliness. We need to understand how, and in what merit, this will happen. Chassidus explains that it will all happen through the power of our work during exile. Through the mitzvos from the Torah and the mitzvos instituted by the Sages that we fulfill now, we draw down the light—yes, G-dly light—into the world. It’s just that now, during exile, this light is as though stored in a box: it cannot be seen or felt. But when our righteous Moshiach comes, very soon, through him and through his power our eyes will be opened, and we will see the light we drew down now, during exile. For the word mitzvah, Chassidus says, is related to tzavsa, meaning “togetherness.” When we fulfill a mitzvah, we become joined together with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. In other words, by fulfilling a mitzvah, a person is refined, elevated, uplifted, refined—and also draws down light upon himself, upon all the Jewish people, and upon the entire world. In fact, upon all the worlds as well. And this light that a Jew draws down by fulfilling a mitzvah is the light and the reward that will be revealed very soon. And... it’s worth pausing to illustrate this with prohibitions, too. First, let’s pose a question: Does what we’ve just said—that fulfilling mitzvos draws down light upon the person himself, upon the entire world, and upon all the worlds—apply only to positive mitzvos, or does it also apply to prohibitions? For example, not eating chametz on Pesach or refraining from work on Shabbos. Right? The truth is that when a Jew refrains from doing these things because Hakadosh Boruch Hu commanded him not to, light is drawn down upon his soul, as our Sages said: “If a person sat and did not commit a transgression, he is given
13:45 Speaker 2 a reward as though he had performed a mitzvah.” But of course, this means someone who—primarily someone who faced a test that was difficult for him, right? And made an effort to fulfill Hashem’s will. For example, let’s imagine it’s Friday night, right? Suddenly lightning strikes, the circuit breaker trips, and the house goes dark. Outside there’s rain, a storm, strong winds blowing, hail, lightning, thunder, right? And inside the house there is total darkness, Egyptian darkness. Obviously there’s a danger to life, right? Someone could bump into the walls or the furniture and crack their head open, you know. The little children are crying and wailing, and the mother, a Yiddishe mama—her heart is breaking to pieces, because she wants to, and needs to, turn on the light. All it would take is a slight touch of the switch, with one little finger, in an unusual way, when no one is looking. But she refrains and doesn’t do it. Why? Because Hakadosh Boruch Hu wrote in His Torah: “You shall not kindle a fire in any of your dwellings on the Shabbos day.” So it is about a case like this that they said: “If a person sat and did not commit a transgression, he is given a reward as though he had performed a mitzvah.” Because, clearly, those watching this class right now—all of us, myself and the viewers—aren’t eating pork right now, and we aren’t eating rabbit either. We aren’t murdering anyone or robbing a bank. Do we deserve a great reward for everything we aren’t doing at the moment? You’re surely chuckling, because it really is ridiculous. Why should we get a reward for doing nothing? For zero? For nothing at all? That’s not what it means. It means someone who faced a test: an opportunity to transgress came his way, he wanted to transgress, he felt he had to, and he almost did. But he held himself back because of Hashem’s will—because Hakadosh Boruch Hu commanded him not to, he didn’t do it. For that, he deserves
15:52 Speaker 2 a reward. And our Sages were precise in their wording: “If a person sat and did not commit a transgression.” They didn’t just say, “did not commit a transgression.” Simply not committing a transgression is inactivity; it’s zero, an absence of action. “Sat and did not commit a transgression” means he held himself back; he stopped himself. That takes effort. It takes mental effort. Sometimes it’s much harder than putting on tefillin or lighting a Shabbos candle. What’s so hard about lighting a Shabbos candle? Almost nothing. But holding yourself back from a transgression—that’s serious. It deserves a great reward. So it’s clear to us that fulfilling positive mitzvos and observing prohibitions draws down a great deal of light upon the person and upon the entire world, and, as we said, upon all the worlds as well. And just as this is true of mitzvos from the Torah and those instituted by the Sages, so too is it true of customs. For example, there is a Torah obligation to refrain from work—the 39 categories of work prohibited on Shabbos by Torah law. There is also a rabbinic obligation to refrain from things the Sages saw fit to prohibit on Shabbos. Along the same lines, there is an obligation to refrain from work at the level of custom—for example, the custom that women do not work on Rosh Chodesh. This appears in the Shulchan Aruch, section 417, which says that it is an important, established custom for women not to work on Rosh Chodesh. By the way, since we’ve come to this, it’s worth noting that this custom is ancient. Its source goes back to the time of Moshe Rabbeinu, to the generation in the wilderness. Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer says that because the women did not sin with the Golden Calf, Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave them their reward: they would observe Rosh Chodesh. No less than that. Now, Pirkei DeRabbi Eliezer doesn’t mention Moshe Rabbeinu. I just think it seems clear that this came from Moshe. What does it mean that Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave them their reward? How did that come about? Let’s say it was Miriam
17:53 Speaker 2 the prophetess, perhaps. We’re talking about women, after all. But surely Miriam the prophetess did not act against Moshe Rabbeinu. Surely it was all with Moshe Rabbeinu’s agreement and blessing. So this, then, came from Moshe Rabbeinu. And by the way, since we’ve mentioned Moshe Rabbeinu, it’s worth noting that we have mitzvos from the Torah—the 613 mitzvos were given at Sinai through Moshe Rabbeinu. Moshe Rabbeinu himself also instituted enactments that have the force of rabbinic law, such as the public Torah reading, or the seven days of celebration for a bride and groom, or the seven days of mourning. We won’t dwell on that too much, but in any case, people think: Moshe Rabbeinu means Torah law. Not necessarily. The same Moshe who gave us mitzvos from the Torah also gave us mitzvos whose authority is rabbinic law, and that same Moshe Rabbeinu also established practices at the level of custom. By the way, the custom of rejoicing on Simchas Torah also comes from Moshe Rabbeinu. That is stated explicitly in the piyut customarily recited on Simchas Torah: “Moshe rejoiced in the joy of the Torah.” The same piyut also says that Avraham Avinu rejoiced on Simchas Torah, and Yitzchak rejoiced on Simchas Torah. But there is a major principle in halachah: we don’t observe these things because our forefathers Avraham and Yitzchak did them. What obligates us is what Moshe Rabbeinu instructed us to do. So that piyut says, “Moshe rejoiced in the joy of the Torah,” and that is, in fact, the source of our Simchas Torah. So customs came from Moshe Rabbeinu. What, then, is the essence of the matter? As explained above, with mitzvos from the Torah, every mitzvah—both positive commandments and prohibitions—draws G-dly light upon a person’s soul and into all the worlds, because mitzvah is related to tzavsa, “togetherness.” Therefore, refraining from work on Shabbos draws down G-dly light. Or, if you like, one could
20:04 Speaker 2 Let’s use eating as an example. To illustrate, we’ll take an example from that area: just as it is obvious that fasting on Yom Kippur, which is an obligation from the Torah, or fasting on Tisha B’Av, which is a rabbinic obligation, is not really about dieting. Its true substance and essence is, of course, fulfilling the Divine will, becoming one with the Creator, and drawing a wondrous, unlimited Divine light into all the worlds. In exactly the same way, a woman or girl who refrains from doing work on Rosh Chodesh draws Divine light upon herself, her family, and the entire Jewish people—and indeed, upon the whole world, all the worlds, and the entire order of spiritual worlds. Conversely, if she treats this lightly and deliberately disregards it, knowing that Jewish women have the custom not to do work on Rosh Chodesh... Incidentally, in some places the custom was to refrain from certain kinds of work, and in other places, from other kinds. We won’t go into that now. In any case, the custom varies from place to place; anyone with a question should consult a rabbi. But if a woman knows of this custom and deliberately goes and does work on Rosh Chodesh, what happens? She sins against her own soul and leaves a stain and blemish on it, and causes the forces of impurity and darkness to grow stronger in our world—or in all the worlds. It is like every Torah or rabbinic mitzvah: fulfilling it draws down light, while, G-d forbid, transgressing it increases the darkness. Now we can understand the precise wording used by the great sages of Israel: “A Jewish custom is Torah.” They did not say, “A Jewish custom is law,” or “A Jewish custom is binding.” They said it is Torah, teaching us the depth of the matter: the inner essence of Jewish customs is Torah—Torah, which is light; the commandment, and Torah, which is light. So we have explained “custom” and “Torah.” The third and final thing left to explain in this saying is the word “Israel.” And it is worth examining
22:25 Speaker 2 what this word means. We could suggest three interpretations of “Israel” in this context. Perhaps it means the entire Jewish people: a custom observed by all the Jewish people is part of the Torah. Or perhaps it also means a portion of the Jewish people, referring to a group or community within the Jewish people. “A Jewish custom” would then mean a custom observed among the Jewish people is Torah. Or perhaps it even means each individual Jew, man or woman. There is precedent in our sources for interpreting “Israel” as each individual Jew. For example, the well-known saying of our Sages: “A Jew, even though he has sinned, remains a Jew.” Whom does that saying refer to? Surely, every individual Jew. So perhaps here, too, it means a custom practiced by any one individual Jew. But when we think about it a little, it is clear that it does not mean a private individual. If a particular person comes up with some custom for himself, does that already fall under “A Jewish custom is Torah”? Has it become part of the Torah? That sounds completely unreasonable. That is not what we are talking about. Why not? First, because it might be that person’s own eccentric idea—something he imagined. That is not serious, and it cannot be given the weighty designation “A Jewish custom is Torah.” But there is a deeper point. Even if a person takes on something good and proper, not some eccentric idea, and does so with complete seriousness and for the sake of Heaven, it cannot be called a custom. It might be a good resolution, a personal commitment, or an enhancement of a mitzvah if it involves doing something; or a safeguard, a restriction, or a stringency if it involves refraining from something. It might even be called a good practice. And even if we assume that doing so is good and desirable, something that strengthens one’s service of Hashem,
24:55 Speaker 2 it is true that it is good for a person to take on good resolutions from time to time. Sefer Haminhagim, the book of Chabad customs, records that our Rebbeim would customarily take on a good resolution before Rosh Hashanah, concerning both positive and negative commandments—something to do and something to refrain from. All well and good, but it still would not be called a Jewish custom. By contrast, the second possibility mentioned above is certainly correct, because there are indeed different customs among the Jewish people: Ashkenazic customs, Sephardic customs, and the customs of Russia, Poland, Morocco, Tunisia, Yemen, and so on. It is clear that any custom observed by a holy group or community within the Jewish people is serious and binding, and each community must preserve its holy customs, handed down from generation to generation, in the spirit of “Do not forsake the teaching of your mother.” So “a Jewish custom” means a custom practiced among the Jewish people. We can therefore conclude that both interpretations are correct. “A Jewish custom is Torah” does not mean only a custom observed by the entire Jewish people, throughout all their communities—such as the custom mentioned earlier of refraining from work on Rosh Chodesh. As noted, it is brought in the Shulchan Aruch, has its source in Moshe Rabbeinu, and has been practiced throughout the Jewish world in one form or another. Or take the custom of rejoicing on Simchas Torah. It is not only customs observed by all Jews, or widespread or accepted throughout the Jewish people, that merit the weighty designation “A Jewish custom is Torah.” A custom observed by a community or group within the Jewish people is also called Torah. That, too, is a Jewish custom. So a custom practiced among the Jewish people is Torah. But here we must add an important qualification—a fundamental, essential condition: What is the source of these customs? How did the customs accepted among the Jewish people come into being?
27:23 Speaker 2 Were they created by members of the community? Perhaps by the community’s rabbi? Does every rabbi have the authority to enact ordinances or introduce a practice that will be called a Jewish custom? Is that so? No, it is not. Rabbis cannot invent Jewish customs. Rather, Jewish customs originate with the great sages of Israel. And who are these great sages? Tzaddikim endowed with ruach hakodesh—people who stand head and shoulders above everyone else in righteousness, holiness, purity, and attachment to Hashem. People upon whom ruach hakodesh rests, who speak the word of Hashem. If they enact an ordinance or institute a custom, that is a Jewish custom that is Torah. The true great sages of Israel are also called the leaders of the community, the eyes of the community, and the heads of the thousands of Israel. Tzaddikim are like a head. They have eyes that see far ahead; they see what happens in the higher worlds, and they know what accords with the will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. If they pass on a custom to us and tell us that this is the proper way to act, we can be confident that it accords with the Divine will and is indeed part of the Torah. And this itself divides into two. We said that all Jewish customs must be... One moment—perhaps we should add a word of clarification. What we have said is by no means intended to belittle the rabbis of Israel, G-d forbid. A rabbi is an important figure, but we must be clear about the boundaries and understand whose role is whose. Who is a rabbi? A rabbi is a Jewish Torah scholar well versed in halachah and custom, who guides the members of his community according to what is written in the books and the Shulchan Aruch, and according to what the great sages of Israel established—the halachah and customs of each community according to its tradition. That is a rabbi, and that is the role of rabbis. But right now we are talking about creating customs, introducing a new custom. What is the source of customs—of a custom that is Torah? And we said that Torah is G-dliness. Torah is an expression of His wisdom,
30:06 Speaker 2 The will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Yes, so an ordinary rabbi, with all due respect, does not belong in this category. Not every rabbi necessarily has ruach hakodesh; for this, ruach hakodesh is needed. But tzaddikim, holy people of the highest order, who possess ruach hakodesh and in whose mouths is the word of Hashem—much as our Sages said of Moshe Rabbeinu, “The Shechinah speaks from Moshe’s throat”—tzaddikim like these, through whose throats the Shechinah speaks, can establish enactments and institute customs for us, and we are certain that they are aligned with the Divine will. And these customs fall into two categories. The vast majority originate from the top down: great Torah leaders decided on something, established it, made an enactment or instituted a custom, and it spread among their students and their students’ students, in their city, their country or other countries, and was accepted among the Jewish people. That is generally how it happens. The vast majority of customs originate with the great Torah leaders themselves, from the top down. But a custom can also come from the bottom up. That is, the holy Jewish people thought of some practice and brought it before the great Torah leaders, who gave it their approval and said, “Yes, this is right, it is well-founded, it accords with the Divine will.” They gave it the endorsement of the great Torah leaders, embraced it warmly and said that this is how one ought to act. That, too, is a custom. For example, the Gemara in Tractate Niddah uses a remarkable expression: “The daughters of Israel took a stringency upon themselves” in a matter connected with family purity. So where did it originate? It was not Rabbi Yehudah or Rabbi Meir who decided it, nor Abaye or Rava. The daughters of Israel took the stringency upon themselves. Yet it became Torah law: our Sages accepted it, it is a halachah in the Shulchan Aruch, and it obligates every Jew, wherever they may be. In the Responsa of the Rashba, section 9, we find a remarkable expression concerning
32:25 Speaker 2 the sanctity of customs. The Rashba says: “A custom of elderly Jewish women is rooted in ruach hakodesh.” The Rashba wrote it this way: “We do not give weight to investigation”—meaning intellectual inquiry—“against received tradition,” meaning what has been handed down among the holy Jewish people, “because Hashem’s wisdom is beyond our inquiry. And the same applies”—he continues—“as a matter of law to anything we have received from the elderly men and women of our people: we must not contradict their tradition.” And why should we contradict their tradition? He gives a general rule: “No tradition becomes widespread among our people unless it has been passed down from generation to generation, back to Moshe Rabbeinu the prophet.” Nothing less. These words of the Rashba are quoted in the responsa Heishiv Moshe by Rabbi Moshe Teitelbaum, author of Yismach Moshe, and many later authorities cited his words; the Rebbe cited them too. He quotes a different wording: “One must not dismiss the tradition held by the elderly women of our people on account of six hundred thousand proofs that appear to contradict it, for Jewish practice is above nature and reason.” Plain and simple. So we said that a custom of elderly Jewish women is rooted in ruach hakodesh. Obviously, this does not mean an individual’s private custom—Grandma waking up one morning after a nightmare and inventing something under the influence of her dream. Of course that is not what is meant. It means a custom practiced for generations by all the elderly women of a particular place—say, Spain, where the Rashba lived—and of such a custom the great Torah leaders said that it is rooted in ruach hakodesh. There is another point worth emphasizing about the importance and seriousness of customs in halachah: how carefully we must observe Jewish customs and not compromise in keeping them. We can see this from an explicit ruling in the Shulchan Aruch. The ruling concerns... First, let us put it this way. There is a well-known halachah that if a non-Jew wants to force a Jew, G-d forbid, to violate a Torah commandment, there are three well-known transgressions for which
34:51 Speaker 2 the rule is “one must be killed rather than transgress”: idolatry, forbidden sexual relations and murder. For other Torah matters, the basic law is that one may transgress rather than be killed. When does this apply? In an ordinary situation, if a non-Jew wants to force a Jew to commit a transgression for the non-Jew’s own benefit. Say, for example, on Shabbos he grabs a Jew and says, “Cook for me on Shabbos.” Why? Because he is hungry and wants to eat. He wants to force the Jew, saying, “If you don’t cook,” while pressing a gun to his temple. In such a case, one may violate Shabbos and cook. But what is the law in a time of religious persecution, when non-Jews impose decrees on Jews specifically to uproot the Torah, to uproot the religion? The halachah in that case is that for any part of the Torah, one must be killed rather than transgress. And what does “any part of the Torah” mean? Even Torah commandments, and also matters ordained by the Sages, and also Jewish customs—absolutely everything. The halachah in the Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh De’ah, section 157, requires one to be killed rather than transgress for any part of the Torah, even for the strap of a sandal. This is an explicit Gemara in Tractate Sanhedrin. What does “the strap of a sandal” mean? The strap of a sandal or shoe. The point is that Jews observe customs of modesty. Non-Jews are not as concerned about modesty, so they allow themselves to wear red clothing. The holy Jewish people avoid red clothing; red is like fire, it draws the eye, and it is not modest. The holy Jewish people do not wear red clothing. So if, during a time of religious persecution, a non-Jew wants to force a Jew to change the strap of his shoe—the shoelace—to red, our holy Torah says that for such a thing, one must be killed rather than transgress. Now let us think: where does the Torah say that it is forbidden
37:05 Speaker 2 to wear a red shoelace? Where is such a thing mentioned in the Mishnah? Where is it written in the Gemara? What prohibition is there? There is no such prohibition; it is not written anywhere. But it is a custom observed by the holy Jewish people. And if a non-Jew wants to uproot the Torah and Jewish customs, which are part of the Torah, and force a Jew to change the strap to red, our holy Torah instructs him to be killed rather than transgress. That is how serious customs are. Of course, this does not apply in everyday life; it applies only in a time of religious persecution. May it never happen; may Hashem help us never reach such a situation. But this shows how seriously our holy Torah regards Jewish customs. We mentioned the color of clothing, and the custom of the holy Jewish people not to wear red clothing. The Maharik discusses this at length in a responsum. The Maharik is Moreinu Harav Rabbi Yosef Colon, one of the early halachic authorities in Italy. He wrote a lengthy responsum relevant to our subject, and his words were cited as halachah by later authorities; they are accepted by all. The Maharik discusses the prohibition, “Do not follow the customs of the nations,” which we did not mention earlier. In any event, he says there are two categories within this prohibition. What, in the second category, is forbidden to us as a custom of the nations? Something associated with immodesty. I will quote his words: “The second type of thing that must be prohibited on account of the customs of the nations is something associated with immodesty that the nations customarily do. This, too, is forbidden, as in the statement, ‘Do not change the strap of a sandal.’ The Rif explains that the nations customarily have red straps, while Jews have black ones. This custom is for the sake of modesty, for it is not the way of Jews to wear red clothing. Black signifies submission and humility, as the Gemara says of someone whose evil inclination overpowers him, ‘Let him put on black clothes and wrap himself in black,’ and so on. That is why Jews customarily wear black. Therefore, anything that is
39:26 Speaker 2 A manner of arrogance and pride is not the portion of Yaakov. Yes, that is a short quote from the Maharik’s words. These words of the Maharik were cited as halacha by later authorities and, as noted, are accepted by all—in the Beis Yosef or the Rema in Yoreh De’ah, section 178. The Shach also mentions them and concludes there with the Maharik’s words: “And to this day, we have a tradition to be particular that members of our people not wear red.” Yes, and as an aside, it is worth noting that this custom, for reasons of modesty, not to wear red is not specifically about women. Certainly, modesty is much more relevant to women than to men, but in this matter it does not refer specifically to women. As the Maharik puts it, “It is not the way of Jews to wear red.” The Maharik did not write “Jewish women”; he simply wrote “Jews,” implying the Jewish people as a whole. Moreover, he writes, “It is not the way of Jews to wear red,” using the masculine form. He does not use the feminine form, right? This implies that he was speaking about men as well. He also concludes: “Therefore, Jews have the custom of wearing black.” And the opposite manner he describes as “not the portion of Yaakov.” Again, Yaakov and the Jewish people in general, right? Another interesting point becomes clear when we consider what is being discussed: a shoe strap or lace, right? There is something remarkable here. We are not talking about a large or particularly conspicuous item of clothing, such as a shirt, a suit, or a hat. A shirt or suit is a large item of clothing, and likewise a hat, which is worn on the head—even if it is not all that large, it stands out and catches the eye, right? But that is not what is meant here. What are we talking about? The strap of a shoe—not even the shoe itself, right? Not the shoe, just the strap, right? First, it is a very small item of dress, and second, where
41:33 Speaker 2 is it? Near the ground, right? The least visible and least noticeable place. And nevertheless, the way of holy Jews is to be particular even about this, that it not be red. Well, we have seen, then, how seriously the great Torah authorities treated a Jewish custom, right? As we said, in a time of persecution, when Jews are being forced to abandon their faith, one must give one’s life even for the custom concerning a shoe strap. There is more: in a certain sense, matters of custom call for even greater care than matters required by halacha. In this connection, it is worth noting a passage from a sicha of the Frierdiker Rebbe, recorded in his sichos from 5696. He says the following; I quote: “One must be careful with a custom. With other matters that are not customs, if a person has transgressed or failed to do something, G-d forbid, he knows it”—meaning that he will then repent—“but with a custom, he may remain as he is without realizing that he has done something improper. Therefore,” he says, “one must be even more careful with matters of custom than with matters of halacha.” The Frierdiker Rebbe relates: “In 5663, I was with my father in Vienna”—the city of Vienna in Austria. “Several times a week we would go to the shtieblach,” right? Even then, Vienna had a large community of Jews from Poland, Jews from Eastern Europe, chassidic Jews—Polish chassidim who had shtieblach. So the Frierdiker Rebbe relates, “I would go with my father several times a week to the shtieblach,” meaning those of the Polish chassidim, “and I saw how very careful my father was in matters of custom, following both the stringencies of the place he had come from and those of the place he had come to.” Do you see what is happening here? The Rebbe Rashab followed the stringencies of the place he had come from—that is, the customs of Lubavitch—and he also followed the customs of the place he had come to. In other words, he followed the customs of the Polish chassidim. “And I asked,” says the Frierdiker Rebbe, “why he was so stringent about customs. My father
43:58 Speaker 2 answered as follows: The Zohar says that Moshiach will come ‘to bring the righteous to repentance,’ for Moshiach will come to bring even the righteous to teshuvah. So when Moshiach comes, there must be teshuvah. Now, when one learns Chassidus, one knows what one needs to repent for, but when one does not learn, one does not know what to repent for. The same applies to customs. People may not notice when they have neglected them, so one must be especially careful about them.” That concludes the words of the Rebbe Rashab as quoted by the Frierdiker Rebbe. See how far this goes. Yes, and on that occasion—when the Frierdiker Rebbe told this story—it was at his grandson’s bar mitzvah celebration. At that celebration, after the bar mitzvah boy had recited the maamar of Chassidus in full, the Frierdiker Rebbe instructed him to recite the maamar again and for people to interrupt him halfway through, as was the Polish custom—the custom of the place. Yes, because this was in Poland. See how far this goes. At times, one must be even more careful about customs than about matters required by halacha. Since we are speaking about customs and their importance, it is worth noting another wonderful point that Chassidus explains about the importance, or holiness, of customs: the source of Jewish customs in the higher realms is loftier than the source of mitzvos and halachos ordained by the Torah or by the Sages. Chassidus says that the source of the enactments of the Sages is loftier than the source of Torah-ordained mitzvos, and the source of Jewish customs is even higher than that of the enactments of the Sages. At first, this sounds puzzling. First of all, we must understand that this is not meant in a straightforward, practical sense. We are speaking about the source of these matters Above, right? Halacha has different rules for how to treat a Torah-ordained mitzvah, a mitzvah ordained by the Sages, or a Jewish custom. For example, when there is doubt about a Torah law, one is stringent; when there is doubt about a law ordained by the Sages, one may be lenient. And being lenient does not mean one may
46:28 Speaker 2 treat these matters lightly. Rather, everything must be done according to the Torah and the guidance of rabbis. If a person has a question, he must ask a rabbi. The Torah has different rules for how to treat a Torah-ordained mitzvah, a mitzvah ordained by the Sages, or a Jewish custom. We are not speaking now about how to act in daily life, or what takes precedence when two obligations conflict. Halacha has rules for that: a positive commandment overrides a prohibition, and so on. We will not go into that now. That is not what we are discussing. We are discussing a deep, inner concept, according to the deeper teachings of Chassidus, concerning the source of these matters. Chassidus teaches that the source of all these matters is Above, in the supernal sefiros of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. The source of Torah-ordained mitzvos is, of course, in the wisdom and will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu; the source of mitzvos ordained by the Sages is even loftier in the higher realms, in the supernal sefiros; and the source of customs is loftier still. This sounds strange and astonishing. We can explain it through the wonderful analogy the Rebbe once gave in a sicha, on one occasion when the Rebbe held a farbrengen during Simchas Beis Hashoevah, in the period before he assumed the nesius. The Rebbe compared it to three kinds of servants, distinguished by the degree of their devotion to their masters. There is a servant who is deeply devoted to his master and does everything his master tells him. He is willing to go through fire and water for him. Whatever his master tells him, he will do—but he needs his master to tell him and state his wishes explicitly. There is another kind of servant. For this second servant, a hint from his master is enough. He does not need to be told explicitly. A mere hint is enough to make him get up and act. The third kind is a faithful servant who loves his master and is so devoted to him that even when his master says nothing to him and does not even give him a hint, he understands. He senses on his own that if he does
48:42 Speaker 2 Such and such will give the master pleasure, so he does it on his own. And the lesson, the Rebbe said, is that there are three levels in our relationship with G-d. There is a level at which we are ready to fulfill anything G-d commands us. But Hakadosh Boruch Hu has to reveal His will and command us explicitly. This is the idea of the 613 mitzvos of the Torah: Hakadosh Boruch Hu, so to speak, took the trouble to come down to our level. He descended upon Mount Sinai, gave us the Torah, and stated explicitly what He wants of us. He told us that on the first day of the seventh month it would be Rosh Hashanah and we should sound the shofar: “It shall be a day of sounding the shofar for you.” On the tenth of the month it would be Yom Kippur: “You shall afflict yourselves.” On the fifteenth of the month it would be Sukkos, and so on. The Torah’s 613 mitzvos are stated explicitly in the Torah. This, then, is the more external and surface level of our connection with G-dliness. The second level is the mitzvos instituted by the Sages. Although they are not explicitly commanded in the Torah, they are alluded to in it. As is known, the seven mitzvos instituted by the Sages, along with their enactments and safeguards, are branches and extensions of the Torah’s 613 mitzvos. They are not additions to the Torah, since the Torah prohibits adding to it or taking away from it. We may not add to the Torah’s mitzvos. So how is it explained in Chassidus that our Sages added practices of their own? Tanya, in Igeres Hakodesh, section 29, explains that these are not additions but extensions of the Torah’s mitzvos. In other words, the Torah gave something like a hint. It stated the essential point. For example, the Torah said to rest on Shabbos. It stated the essential point, and the Sages extended the rest required of us through various boundaries and safeguards, including restrictions on activity and the prohibition of muktzeh, and the like. So it follows
51:07 Speaker 2 that the Torah gave, as it were, only a hint, and our holy Sages expanded on it. The devoted, wise servant needs only the hint given in the Torah; he understands on his own what is meant and what Hashem wants of him. These are the enactments of our Sages. The third level of our relationship with our G-d is the loftiest of all: the customs of the Jewish people. Holy Jews observe these customs even though they are not written in the Written Torah or the Oral Torah, and are not even alluded to there. But holy Jews know that observing them gives Hakadosh Boruch Hu pleasure, and so they observe them. In other words, the Jewish people have a spiritual, G-dly sensitivity that comes from the soul. The soul senses and feels what Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants of it. This, then, is the loftiest, most essential connection. It springs from the very essence of the souls of holy Jews, which are connected with the essence of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, so to speak. Nothing needs to be said to them, and no hint needs to be given; they already sense for themselves what the supernal will is. Of course, we are ordinary people and do not sense it. But the great Torah leaders have eyes that see far ahead. Their great souls, the collective souls of the great Torah leaders, perceive the supernal will and reveal it to us, and we observe the customs they instituted. This is why Chassidus explains, as the Rebbe repeated many times, that the joy of Simchas Torah is greater and loftier than the joy of Sukkos in general. The Torah says of Sukkos, “You shall rejoice on your festival.” Joy is mentioned three times in the Torah in connection with Sukkos, which is why it is a joyous festival. Sukkos also has the special celebration called Simchas Beis Hashoeivah, instituted by the Sages, where the joy is greater. But on Simchas Torah, in keeping with Jewish custom, the joy
53:29 Speaker 2 is far greater still than the joy required by the Torah, and greater than the joy of Simchas Beis Hashoeivah, which comes from the words of the Sages and the words of the Prophets. The joy of Simchas Torah is entirely a custom: holy Jews sense that this is the supernal will, and they rejoice in it with tremendous joy. And since we have spoken about the principle that Jewish custom is Torah, and about the G-dly source of customs—that what holy Jews have customarily done is guided by ruach hakodesh—we can add a remarkable passage from the Gemara on this subject. The Gemara in Pesachim tells of a problem that arose in the time of Hillel the Elder, at the beginning of his leadership, about a hundred years before the destruction of the Second Beis Hamikdash. It was Erev Pesach, which fell on Shabbos. When the Beis Hamikdash stood, there was a great mitzvah to offer the Pesach sacrifice on Erev Pesach. But when Erev Pesach fell on Shabbos, a problem arose. What was the problem? It was not whether the Pesach sacrifice could be slaughtered on Shabbos, because it was clear that sacrifices could be slaughtered on Shabbos. Hillel said so and brought scriptural proofs, which we will not go into now. In any case, it was clear that even the daily offering could be slaughtered on Shabbos. It was slaughtered and offered every Shabbos. On Shabbos, an additional musaf offering was brought as well, not just the daily offering. Every Shabbos they offered two daily offerings and two lambs for musaf—four lambs altogether. On Yom Tov they offered even more, and on Yom Kippur, a Shabbos of complete rest, they offered many sacrifices. So it was clear that a sacrifice appointed for a particular day could be offered on Shabbos. The problem, though, concerned the slaughtering knife. How could they bring it on Shabbos? They needed many knives, because all the Jewish people slaughtered and offered their sacrifices in the short period
55:58 Speaker 2 on Erev Pesach in the afternoon, after the daily offering, which was brought at eight and a half hours into the day. The Pesach sacrifices were offered afterward. And who offered them? All the Jewish people. So thousands of sacrifices had to be offered in the short time remaining until sunset. Everyone needed to bring his own knife. What would someone do if he had not brought his knife before Shabbos? That was the problem: how could he bring it on Shabbos? Doing so would involve carrying from one domain to another. The knife was in his private home, a private domain. Taking it out of the house would mean carrying from a private domain into a public domain, and then bringing it from the public domain into the Beis Hamikdash, which was enclosed by walls and was therefore a private domain. That would involve the Torah-prohibited labors of carrying out and carrying in. So what were they to do about bringing the knives on Shabbos? This question was put to Hillel the Elder as Erev Pesach, which fell on Shabbos, approached. Hillel was a man of truth and humility, and he said plainly, “I heard the ruling on this matter, but I have forgotten it.” He did not know what to answer. But notice: the great Torah leaders did not intervene. They let the Jewish people do what they understood to be right. And what happened? On that Shabbos, Erev Pesach, holy Jews took their slaughtering knives and tucked them into the wool of the lambs. The animals carried the knives to the Beis Hamikdash. Animals, after all, are not obligated in mitzvos, and that was how they solved the problem. But when the great Torah leaders did not know what to tell the people, they said the following remarkable words. We should write them down in letters of gold. This is what the great Torah leaders said.
58:21 Speaker 2 Hillel the Elder said, “Leave it to the Jewish people. If they are not prophets, they are the children of prophets.” The term “children of prophets” does not necessarily mean family lineage. It refers to the ruach hakodesh that rests upon the Jewish people. And there are different levels of ruach hakodesh. Our Sages said it makes little difference what level the ruach hakodesh comes from, or what level of prophecy it is. It may be actual prophecy; and even if it is not actual prophecy, it is at least the level of “children of prophets,” a lower level. In any case, what holy Jews do is aligned with the supernal will. We are talking about upright Jews whose hearts are directed toward Heaven. We are talking about offering a sacrifice in the Beis Hamikdash, not, G-d forbid, about people breaking the law. When holy Jews, upright Jews, direct their hearts toward Heaven and intend to fulfill Hashem’s will, it is clear that their actions are aligned with the supernal will. That is how the great Torah leaders regarded Jewish customs. We have learned three things today. We have learned three things in this class. Jewish custom is Torah.