Music in Halacha - Rabbi Lev Leibman shlita

00:02 Speaker 1 You’re listening to “Lema’an Yishme’u,” a podcast from Machon Halacha Chabad.

00:09 Speaker 2 Regarding singing and niggunim on Shabbos: There is a mitzvah to honor Shabbos and a mitzvah to take pleasure in Shabbos. The halachic authorities write that singing niggunim during Shabbos davening is part of honoring Shabbos. That’s why, in practice, we hear many more niggunim in shul during Shabbos davening than on a weekday. The chazzan, the person leading the davening, also brings in more niggunim. And the halachic authorities write that niggunim at the Shabbos meal are part of the pleasure of Shabbos. In other words, besides the physical delicacies at the Shabbos meal—meat and fish—the niggunim are part of its beauty and enjoyment. They also bring the family together when everyone sings together. You can do something nice: give each child in the family a turn to choose a niggun for everyone to sing together. With a dvar Torah, one person speaks and everyone else has to listen; with a niggun, everyone joins in with one voice. That’s according to the revealed dimension of Torah, and also according to its inner dimension, Kabbalah. Chassidus cites the writings of the Arizal: “It is a mitzvah to sing on Shabbos.” In other words, singing on Shabbos is itself a mitzvah. The idea is that on Shabbos, the worlds ascend to a higher spiritual level, and every ascent is accomplished through melody and song. The Alter Rebbe goes so far as to discuss a statement in the Jerusalem Talmud: “They only reluctantly permitted speaking words of Torah on Shabbos.” At first glance, that’s puzzling. Shabbos was given for learning Torah. What does it mean that they only reluctantly permitted speaking words of Torah? The Alter Rebbe explains that Shabbos is an ascent from the world of speech to the world of thought, and thought is expressed specifically through melody. As is known, the Alter Rebbe included only two zemiros—three zemiros for the three Shabbos meals—in his siddur, because he primarily wanted people to sing wordless niggunim, which are above speech and are a direct expression of the world of thought. There’s another beautiful point:

02:17 Speaker 2 In fact, in most Anash communities, and especially in all the yeshivos, there is a set time for singing niggunim. The Rebbe said that every Jewish home should be Tomchei Temimim. Especially recently, when yeshiva students have often spent extended periods at home, every home becomes a bit more like a Tomchei Temimim yeshiva. It’s recommended to have a set time for singing niggunim at home with the family, too. It brings hearts closer and adds a great deal to the Chassidic atmosphere of Shabbos. As for playing musical instruments on Shabbos, the Shulchan Aruch says that our Sages decreed that one may not play instruments on Shabbos, lest one repair an instrument. What does that mean? The example given is a violin: if a string breaks, the player might tie it. Tying is a Torah-prohibited melacha. And every instrument can potentially need some kind of repair. A flute, for example, has screws. If its screws need tightening because it’s gone a little out of alignment, that can be a Torah-prohibited melacha. So our Sages decreed that instruments not be played on Shabbos. Chassidus gives an inner reason for this, too. It says that there is singing with the voice and music played on instruments. Singing with the voice is the soul of song, while instrumental music is its body. The six weekdays are the days of the body, when we deal with physical matters. Shabbos, by contrast, is a day that is entirely soul, when we rise above physical concerns. That is also the inner reason why instrumental music has no place on Shabbos—only singing with the voice. Since musical instruments may not be played or used for their intended purpose on Shabbos, they are also muktzeh. They are utensils whose primary use is prohibited, and may not be moved. But

04:12 Speaker 2 ordinarily, a utensil whose primary use is prohibited may be moved if you need the utensil itself for a permitted use or need the space it occupies. There is, however, a category called muktzeh machmas chisaron kis. If an instrument is expensive and its owner is very careful not to use it for any other purpose, it has a stricter muktzeh status. It may not be moved even if you need the instrument itself or the space it occupies, though it may be moved in an unusual manner. In practical terms, take a plastic recorder. Usually, no one is particularly careful with it: it isn’t expensive, and if it falls, it won’t break or be damaged. So it’s a utensil whose primary use is prohibited. If it was mistakenly left on the table, or someone forgot it on a chair and you want to sit there, there’s no problem picking up the recorder normally and moving it elsewhere. The same applies to musical instruments for small children. They’re usually a kind of toy, so although they make a sound and you may not make that sound on Shabbos, you may move one if you need it or the space it occupies—for example, move it off the couch and put it somewhere else. But a professional musical instrument is like the examples in the Shulchan Aruch of a shochet’s knife or a circumcision knife. It is subject to the stricter category of muktzeh machmas chisaron kis, and may not be moved even if you need the instrument itself or the space it occupies. On a related point, the Shulchan Aruch discusses a garment with bells on it. It used to be customary to put a garment with bells on small children, so you would know where the child was going. There are still garments like that today. Because of the bells, one may not put it on a child or wear it, since it makes a sound. The halachic authorities disagree about bells on a Torah scroll. Bells on a Torah

05:57 Speaker 2 scroll are a matter of dispute. The Magen Avraham rules that there is no problem, because they serve a mitzvah purpose: they alert people to stand when the Torah scroll is taken out of the Aron Kodesh. It honors the Torah, so the Magen Avraham permits it. The Alter Rebbe rules like the Magen Avraham in his Shulchan Aruch. But when the Torah scroll of Moshiach was made, the Rebbe asked that no bells be put on its crown. The Taz, unlike the Magen Avraham, rules that bells may not be put even on a Torah scroll. Another interesting point on this subject: the Rebbe asked that Nichoach records, and other recordings of niggunim, carry the notice, “Please do not play on Shabbos or Yom Tov.” As for the Sefer HaNiggunim, may you open it on Shabbos? The prohibition on playing music applies to instruments, not to singing with the voice. You can open the Sefer HaNiggunim, and someone who can read musical notation can sing a niggun from the notes, so there is no problem. If it contains secular songs, or if it’s a book of secular music, then there is the question of studying secular subjects on Shabbos. Those who are particular about this do not study such subjects on Shabbos, and therefore would not use or look through such a book to study it. Now, about singing niggunim during davening: Seemingly, davening means reading and saying the words. What does music have to do with it? It isn’t a performance. But the halachic authorities write, citing the holy Shelah and other early works, that the voice arouses concentration. In other words, a niggun makes it much easier for a person to concentrate during davening. We know that concentration is one of the essentials of davening. The Rambam says that davening without concentration does not even have the status of davening.

07:59 Speaker 2 So because the whole point and essence of davening is service of the heart, singing a niggun during davening really does awaken one’s focus, and a niggun opens the heart. Service of the heart is something entirely different with a niggun. So a niggun is not just a decoration for davening, some embellishment or extra. It is central to davening itself. A niggun adds to the very essence of davening. The custom of chassidim of earlier generations was to sing during davening, to weave niggunim into it. The Alter Rebbe sang during davening; we have the Alter Rebbe’s niggun for davening, for Shabbos and for weekdays. And our Rebbeim cherished the practice of singing during davening throughout the generations. The Tzemach Tzedek said that a niggun during davening actually brings about a revelation of G-dliness in the soul. The Rebbe Maharash said that singing a niggun during davening is a way to remove dullness of the mind and heart. There is a story about a young student at the Tomchei Temimim yeshiva in Lubavitch who would sing while davening. He thought it was superficial, that it was not genuine enough. He went into yechidus with the Rebbe Rashab and told him that he felt it was not entirely sincere and wanted to stop. The Rebbe Rashab told him, “Under no circumstances should you stop singing niggunim during davening, because a niggun during davening reveals the soul.” There is something very, very special that the Mitteler Rebbe says in the name of his father, the Alter Rebbe. In a letter, he says that the Alter Rebbe had advice for anyone facing difficulties in any area of life—children, health or livelihood; matters of health, income or family. The Alter Rebbe would advise them to sing during davening, to weave niggunim into it. That, the Alter Rebbe says, would remove all accusations against a person and sweeten the judgments against them in Heaven—to that extent. And the Mitteler Rebbe concludes, “This has been tried and tested.” Now, what is the source for this? If a person showed some extraordinary self-sacrifice,

10:13 Speaker 2 or performed a mitzvah with great strength, then we can understand why they might deserve some kind of salvation. But how can a niggun that we sing during davening seemingly nullify accusations in Heaven? There really is a source for this. The holy Zohar says that when the Levi’im played music on the platform in the Beis Hamikdash, they sweetened judgments in Heaven. It is like a human king who is angry with someone for behaving improperly: the king’s musicians are brought in, and his anger subsides. It calms things down. So, says the holy Zohar of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, the Levi’im in the Beis Hamikdash sweetened judgments in Heaven. Today we have davening in place of the offerings, and in place of the Levi’im’s song in the Beis Hamikdash, we have the niggunim sung during davening. So the power of a niggun during davening is to sweeten judgments and nullify accusations against a person. And again, the Mitteler Rebbe concludes, “This has been tried and tested.” Someone could still say that this applied in earlier generations—with the Alter Rebbe, the Mitteler Rebbe and the Rebbe Rashab in Lubavitch. But today, when we are souls of the footsteps of Moshiach, souls on a lower level, we barely connect to anything. Perhaps it applies to someone who davens for hours, but our davening... So the Rebbe says, on Shabbos Shirah 5752, that singing niggunim during davening is a chassidic custom that applies today too, and to each and every person, including women within the bounds of modesty, and even children. And if someone complains to another person that it bothers them when that person davens with niggunim and out loud, the Rebbe said that this is a wild custom that must be done away with. So singing a niggun during davening applies today too, and it has been tried and tested. Try it at home. And because not everyone is yet at the point of weaving niggunim into their davening, the chazzan, the one leading the davening, has a role and a responsibility here. The Frierdiker Rebbe says that a chazzan stands on

12:23 Speaker 2 the dividing line between bringing merit to the many and the opposite. When a chazzan works a good niggun into the davening, he awakens the minyan—many souls and hearts—to holiness and Chassidus. The Rebbe was personally grateful to several people who introduced niggunim into davening and established the practice of singing them. For example, the niggun of “Aderes Ve’emunah” was not sung at first, and someone introduced the practice of singing it. The Rebbe himself would sing in the congregation of Eden [unclear] on the Shabbos when the Rebbe led the davening as chazzan after his father’s passing, on 20 Menachem Av. So the Rebbe really wanted and encouraged niggunim to be introduced into davening. In earlier generations in Lubavitch, they relied on each person to sing whichever niggun they felt inspired to sing—each person according to their own deveikus. But today there is the practice of the chazzan starting a serious, stirring niggun. It really has an effect, and he earns great merit in Heaven. This brings us to the melody of davening itself—the traditional nusach. In the laws of Yom Kippur, the customs of the Maharil say that the chazzan should not depart from the established nusach. Nusach means the traditional melody of the prayers themselves. There is a nusach for Shabbos, and a different way to daven on Yom Tov: a different melody for Kaddish, for the prayers themselves, for the chazzan’s repetition, and so on. So there is a reason to preserve the nusach on the straightforward level. Why not change it? Because that could lead to disputes, and we are not allowed to split into factions. So we preserve it to avoid disputes and to keep from disrupting the worshippers’ concentration. But Chassidus also explains that these traditional melodies of the prayers have very ancient roots—to the point that some of the melodies of the Yom Tov prayers are attributed to the song of the Levi’im in the Beis Hamikdash. That is why they were very, very careful not to change them or add flourishes and embellishments of their own, but for the chazzan to sing them with intention. And that is why it is important for the person leading the davening to be careful and precise with its nusach.

14:43 Speaker 2 As for niggunim and music in the laws of idol worship—why get into subjects like that? But Chassidus says that by studying a particular subject in Torah, we bring about refinement and rectification in that area. By studying what the Shulchan Aruch says about niggunim and music in the laws of idol worship, we bring about refinement and rectification in this area. The Shulchan Aruch says, on the one hand, that if a person walks past a house of idol worship and hears its music coming from inside, sound, sight and smell are not tangible things. Sound is not something physical that would mean the person took something and benefited from idol worship. The person is walking there because it is on their route; they have no intention of going there to hear that music. So there is no problem. A person does not have to seek out a detour and go far out of their way. There is no problem walking past when they do not intend to enjoy the music. That is on the one hand. But in Rabbi Perlov’s Sipurei Chassidim, it is brought in the name of the Tzemach Tzedek, from our Rebbeim, that hearing the bells of a house of idol worship is detrimental to one’s memory. So one should be somewhat careful not to go there specifically with the intention of hearing them. Now, a niggun specifically associated with idol worship means one that was composed and is deliberately played for that purpose. That is different from today, when houses of idol worship are simply like concert halls and all kinds of music are played there. That is not called music specifically associated with idol worship. It is just that the place has good acoustics, like a successful concert hall, so all sorts of concerts are held there. But here we mean a niggun specifically for idol worship. So we cannot, we cannot

16:42 Speaker 2 We can’t—we’re not permitted to use that tune, because it is specifically associated with idol worship. Once it is no longer played in idol worship and that association has been forgotten, it becomes permissible to use it. More than that, the sefer Maaseh Rokeach on the Rambam says that even if a tune was once a song of the Levi’im in the Beis Hamikdash, a tune the Levi’im sang before Hakadosh Boruch Hu, if people have now taken it and sing it in idol worship, and it is currently associated specifically with idol worship, then for the time being we cannot use it. Why is this so relevant to us? A tune associated with idol worship is not the only case. The same applies to a tune identified with a particular party, a particular movement in the world, or a particular ideology whose foundations run counter to Yiddishkeit. If it is associated with something neutral, that is fine; there are all kinds of slogans in the world. But if it is identified with a movement that opposes the foundations of Judaism and fights against them, then we cannot use that tune now. There is a well-known letter from the Rebbe in Igros Kodesh about the Zionist anthem, and other examples like it: chassidim do not sing tunes identified with a party that wanted to cast off the yoke of Heaven, and so on. Take the tune Hava Nagila, for example. It originated as a Chassidic tune, and Golbovshitz[unclear] sang it before the Rebbe Rashab, Yakobs[unclear], without words. Later it was taken into other circles, and chassidim stopped singing it. But people say that for quite a few years now, the tune has no longer been identified with any particular party or movement. That is what inquiries have found, and even several prominent rabbis have said that the tune has returned to Chassidic circles and communities. So the tune itself—not the words—is

18:50 Speaker 2 a Chassidic tune, and it has returned to the domain of Chassidus. It is even a mitzvah to sing it and use it. That is what some people say several leading rabbis have said. Another question people ask is an interesting one. In musical terminology, the notes are called do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si. The truth is that if we look into the history, those syllables—re, mi, fa, sol, la, si—came from a melody used in idol worship, no less. Nearly a thousand years ago, a priest devised a melody to help people remember the notes, which they would sing—lehavdil—in idol worship. So is it permissible to use the terms do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si? Or might it be better not to use them? Especially since there is another system: the American system calls the notes A, B, C, D, E, F, G, with A corresponding to la, B to si, and so on. So some people prefer to use A, B, C, D, E, F, G rather than do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si. But this can really be compared to the question of the names of the secular months. The names of the secular months—September, October, and so on—also come from idol worship and the names of various figures associated with it. And we know that some great Torah scholars used those names. There is a letter from the Rebbe on this subject. The point is that today, no one uses those names with the intention of invoking idol worship or anything connected to it; they just want to state the date. So there is no problem with it, and there is no need to make a point of avoiding it. Even though one could write “month nine” instead of “September,” it is still fine to write or say “September.” We are Jews, and our calendar is the Jewish calendar, but when writing a secular date, one can

20:49 Speaker 2 say “the first of September.” So as for the view that do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si is forbidden: the connection of those syllables to idol worship has been completely forgotten. When someone says “fa” or “sol” today, no one intends to invoke some anthem of idol worship. Consequently, there is no problem with them. That said, when a child goes to study music—not just learning an instrument from a private teacher, but studying music theory as well—he may encounter a great deal of material about the history of music and composers, on and on without end. Much of it is connected to idol worship and comes from idol worship. So in an education devoted entirely to holiness, of course one must avoid any such encounter with idol worship. The Sanhedrin was different: it says that its members had to study and be well versed in the nature of idol worship. They needed to know how each form of idol worship was practiced in order to adjudicate cases in beis din. But that is not the situation of a child going to study music—or even an adult chossid who wants to become a baal menagen and study music professionally. They need to avoid all that material about idol worship, because a very large proportion of ancient music—perhaps even most of it—was associated with places of idol worship. So one should try to steer clear of it. With Hashem’s help, Moshiach will come in our days and eliminate idol worship altogether. As things stand, there is a law concerning an instrument that was played in idol worship: it cannot be played in the Beis Hamikdash; it is disqualified. But in the future, it seems reasonable to say that in the Third Beis Hamikdash, because “I will remove the spirit of impurity from the earth,”

22:44 Speaker 2 no trace, no dust, and no connection to the kelipah of idol worship will remain. So it will no longer be possible to say that there is any object in the world that cannot be used for holiness. As for music and tunes at home, in raising children, the halachic authorities say—the Mishnah Berurah cites this from works of mussar, in the name of the Shelah—not to play immodest music even for a day-old baby, because it develops a bad nature in the child. Notice that expression in the halachic authorities: “develops a bad nature.” It is also mentioned elsewhere in the Shulchan Aruch regarding an infant not nursing from a woman who has eaten forbidden food, or something like that, because it develops a bad nature in the child. So just as forbidden foods can develop a bad nature, negative music can also develop a bad nature in a baby. What exactly is the definition of negative music? With Hashem’s help, we will devote an episode of its own to that. Here, I want to talk about how the power of good is greater than the power of harm. If negative music affects a baby negatively, then positive music—meaning Chassidic tunes, tunes of holiness and of serving Hashem—affects a baby positively, even a day-old baby. The Rebbe spoke several times at farbrengens about the custom of righteous women, of Jewish mothers, to lull a baby to sleep in the cradle with a holy tune. The Rebbe gave several examples of tunes in Yiddish. In any case, any holy tune, and especially Chassidic tunes, certainly have a positive effect on a baby’s soul. Now, notice that on one occasion when the Rebbe spoke about this at a farbrengen, the Rebbe went on to ask: Someone might come along and argue, “What difference does it make which tune you use to lull a baby to sleep?” The Rebbe asked that question, and the Rebbe answered that the tune used to lull the baby to sleep,

24:47 Speaker 2 This niggun will affect the baby throughout his life. Those are very, very powerful words. Someone might ask: The baby doesn’t understand anything; the baby doesn’t know anything. But music, a niggun, affects a baby from birth—and there are studies today showing that a niggun has an effect even before birth. That is, while the baby is still in the mother’s womb during pregnancy. Throughout those nine months, even without the studies, we know that niggunim have a positive effect on the unborn child. We very much want to instill vitality in serving Hashem, enthusiasm, refined middos, and chassidic middos in children. We can do that through explanations and all kinds of stories we tell them. But as the saying goes, a picture is worth more than a thousand words; often, a niggun is worth more than a thousand words. Chassidus says that a niggun is beyond all the words in the world. So sometimes, through niggunim, we can instill chassidic things much more deeply within a child’s soul, particularly before sleep. We know that in yeshivos, mashpi’im speak about how a bochur should think about Chassidus, or review Tanya by heart, before going to sleep. But we can’t ask that of a small child or a baby. We put a child to sleep with niggunim, and today anyone can do it at the touch of a button. Just put on niggunim at a low volume; it has a very, very positive effect. You could call it a Jewish custom, as the Rebbe said. Besides the Jewish custom, the mitzvah involved, and the chassidic aspect, there’s also a simple, practical benefit: some children have a little trouble falling asleep, and a niggun helps them fall asleep too. You need to put on slow niggunim, not fast ones—specifically slow niggunim. Play them softly, at a calm, low volume, and that also helps

26:53 Speaker 2 with putting the child to sleep—the physical process of falling asleep. Another time to bring a niggun into the home is in the morning, when it’s time to wake up. When we want to wake everyone up, a niggun has a place there too, but then we need the opposite kind of niggun. Not a quiet one, but a loud, fast niggun that will get the sleepy ones moving. Because our aim then is exactly the opposite. We’re dealing with children who are asleep and tired, who don’t have the strength to get up or the motivation. We need to get them going. We need a wake-up call, like the trumpet call used for reveille in the army. There’s an interesting source for this too. Chassidus cites the Tzemach Tzedek: in the Beis Hamikdash, the Levi’im sang in the morning and again toward evening, in the late afternoon. He says that there was joy in the morning; the holy Zohar says that in the morning there was joy, a joyful niggun, whereas toward evening, at the end of the day, there was a niggun of bitterness. That’s what the Tzemach Tzedek says. So the morning calls for a joyful niggun that also gives children confidence. The children are about to set out on their day; they need motivation, strength—the strength and the desire to get going. Just as people go into battle to the sound of a march, and that march strengthens their confidence, so too here. The Rebbe Rashab says that a chassidic niggun brings light, places the entire household in a ray of light, and strengthens their confidence. Could spending time on niggunim and music seemingly count as neglecting Torah study? There’s a very special story about this told by the Frierdiker Rebbe. The Tzemach Tzedek was a young child, around six or seven years old. He had a very strong inclination toward music and niggunim, toward composing songs and niggunim. But the Tzemach Tzedek tried to push that talent aside, because, at first glance,

29:01 Speaker 2 he thought it wasn’t appropriate. Better to use the time for Torah study. Then, when the Tzemach Tzedek was a little older, around eight, it was a year after Tanya had been printed. Tanya was first printed in 5557, and a year later a group of young married men came to the Alter Rebbe, his grandfather, and complained that they couldn’t understand Tanya. The Alter Rebbe answered them: “You can’t understand Tanya without a niggun. Tanya without a niggun is only half the story.” The Tzemach Tzedek heard this, and from then on he made a point of developing his musical ability. Why? Because he understood from the Alter Rebbe that a niggun is not neglecting Torah study. On the contrary, you can’t understand Torah and its deeper meaning without a niggun. The Rebbe once connected this story with the story of the Alter Rebbe in Shklov, where there were Torah scholars with all kinds of questions in Gemara, and the Alter Rebbe resolved difficulties in their learning through a niggun. In other words, a niggun also helps us learn Torah and understand something when our mind seems locked. A niggun opens the locks; it helps us work through the sugya. A niggun helps us understand the inner meaning. A niggun is Chassidus—it’s the depth, the secret. A niggun helps us understand it more deeply, absorb it more deeply. And on the simplest level, a niggun helps with attention and concentration difficulties. So for a child whose mind wanders, a niggun can help him focus and settle down to learn. Today there are projects around the world using music to make learning and concentration more effective, even, lehavdil, among other peoples. So not only is a niggun not a neglect of Torah study; it actually helps prepare us for the mitzvah of studying Torah. That’s why Chassidus strongly encourages musical talent, the gift for music and niggunim. There’s a special story about

31:14 Speaker 2 the Rebbe’s father, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson. When the Rebbe’s wedding took place in Warsaw, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak was in Yekaterinoslav because he couldn’t come to the wedding, and they held a farbrengen. At the beginning of that large farbrengen, they gathered children from the neighborhood. The following story is told by a child who was there: the Rebbe’s father gathered the children and farbrenged with them. He describes it in Russian: Reb Levik turned to the children and said, “We want you to sing, because we know that every Jewish child has a talent. He can make music with his voice or on an instrument.” So if we ask whether every child has musical talent, the answer is surprising. Rabbi Levi Yitzchak says that every child has a gift for music. At the most basic level, how do we know that every child has that gift? Because before every Jewish soul came down into this world, it belonged to those who possess song—“they go out with song and are drawn by song.” The Alter Rebbe said this refers to souls and angels. The song of the souls is even higher than the song of the angels. So every soul is, by its nature, one that possesses song. There’s also an expression that the Alter Rebbe’s Chassidus makes a chossid into one who possesses song. So every child has this talent in potential. And we learn an approach to education from Rabbi Levi Yitzchak: we need to encourage children. We need to say, “We know you can do it. We know you’re capable. We know you know how to sing, you love to sing—it’s in your soul.” By praising a person for a quality he has, we bring it out from concealment into the open. The Frierdiker Rebbe gave instructions to the Tomchei Temimim yeshiva concerning a set time for niggunim. Not just at Ra’ava DeRa’avin on Shabbos, once a week, but actually

33:13 Speaker 2 The Frierdiker Rebbe says that the students should be tested in music and that a kapelye—a choir, a group of musicians—should be formed. Even those who do not have much musical talent should be included in learning the niggunim, and an hour of music study should be set aside three times a week. That is one of the Frierdiker Rebbe’s directives for Tomchei Temimim. So we see that Chassidus strongly encourages developing musical talent. But it is very important that this development remain entirely within the bounds of holiness. That is why it is highly recommended, from the outset, to bring in a Chassidic music teacher, or at least a G-d-fearing teacher, rather than enroll a child in a program where he will also join an orchestra—which will generally be mixed—and encounter all kinds of things we do not want him exposed to. When there is no alternative, you can hire a teacher who is not religious, but have the teacher come to your home to teach the child. You can also provide sheet music for niggunim for the teacher to study with the child. In any case, make sure the way the child learns remains entirely within the bounds of holiness. It is very, very important to have a male teacher for boys and a female teacher for girls, because learning music creates a very special connection between teacher and student. History has its share of stories about that, so it is very important to be particular about a male teacher for a boy and a female teacher for a girl. One of the most common instruments in the world today is the guitar. So I want to address a question many people have: Is the guitar a Chassidic instrument, a suitable instrument? Is it appropriate, or perhaps not so appropriate? Because today the guitar is often perceived as a very street-oriented instrument. To my surprise, after researching this subject thoroughly, I found that the guitar entered European classical music about eight hundred years ago, and researchers believe it came to Europe from the Middle East. In other words, from the region of

35:29 Speaker 2 Eretz Yisroel, in simple terms. Now, the guitar is a stringed, plucked instrument. Its sound is similar to that of the harp, and to the original kinnor of the Beis Hamikdash, which was plucked—not today’s violin, which is played with a bow and has a different kind of sound. The guitar, being plucked, really does recall the sound of the harp and the original kinnor of the Beis Hamikdash. But something much more interesting and remarkable is that several commentators mention the guitar in connection with the Beis Hamikdash. The first is Rabbi Levi ben Gershon, the Ralbag. In his commentary on Divrei Hayamim, discussing the eight-stringed kinnor at the dedication of the First Beis Hamikdash, the Ralbag says, “It seems to me that this is the guitar or the lute.” The Ralbag lived seven hundred years ago in France. So if the Ralbag says that, in his view, the guitar was among the musical instruments played in the Beis Hamikdash, then the guitar is certainly an instrument with a distinguished pedigree. The Rambam also mentions—in his commentary on the Mishnah, Keilim, where several musical instruments are listed—an instrument called the batnon. The Rambam says that the batnon is held against the stomach. He says it is a guitar. There is also another instrument called the naktmon, which resembles a wooden leg worn by an amputee. The Rambam says this is the oud. The oud is essentially a type of guitar, very similar to the classical lute. With a guitar, each string can produce not just one note but several, unlike a harp, where each string produces only one note. In any case, the guitar is an ancient instrument, and according to several commentators it even has roots in the Beis Hamikdash. So the main thing is not which instrument it is, but what is played

37:43 Speaker 2 on it. As long as it is Chassidic niggunim, played in a Chassidic spirit, the guitar is certainly something we can encourage. It is no less worthy than another musical instrument, a harp or a kinnor. Regarding negative music, the halachic authorities say not to play immodest music even for a day-old baby, and they go on to say that this is not only about a day-old baby: a person should also warn the members of his household about it. What exactly is negative music? At first glance, we are talking about music with negative lyrics, with inappropriate, immodest words. That certainly arouses the yetzer hara. But I want to ask a more fundamental question now. Let’s set the words aside. Can music without words be negative, or is it only a matter of lyrics? There is a great deal of confusion about this in the world today. So let’s begin with a source. There is a letter from the Rebbe to the Piamenta band. In the 5730s they became baalei teshuvah. They had come from various styles of modern music, and they wanted to give performances for the sake of outreach, to bring Jews closer to their Father in Heaven. The Rebbe writes to them that the music prevalent today—that is, twentieth-century music, as it is called—is music founded on casting off restraint, arousing passions, and blurring boundaries. I will add another story about the Rebbe that was publicized in recent years. There is a woman named Malka in the United States. She was an orphan, and as a teenager she came to the Rebbe several times. On one occasion she came to the Rebbe with a medical problem. She had migraines, very, very severe headaches, and sinusitis, and the doctors really did not know how to help her. She

39:52 Speaker 2 says that they even feared for her life. She came to the Rebbe and met with him for yechidus at 770, and the Rebbe told her to stop listening to popular music—or, when I asked her personally in a letter, she wrote to me, “secular music.” She asked the Rebbe whether that meant she should now listen only to Chassidic niggunim. She notes, in parentheses, that at the time, Chassidic niggunim meant only the first Nichoach record. That was all there was then. The Rebbe told her that Chassidic niggunim have a positive effect on a person’s health. She says she kept to this musical diet for two weeks and made a point of setting aside regular times to listen to Chassidic niggunim, and her migraines actually went away. This story is not only a miracle of the Rebbe; it also accords with scientific research. Popular music—meaning today’s music—contains elements in its musical fabric that run counter to a person’s health. We can see plainly that the singers are not simply singing something beautiful: they actually shout and seem angry as they sing. So, “as water reflects a face,” what effect does that have on the listener? It cultivates coarse, negative character traits. The whole thrust of modern music is to break out of the framework, to depart from musical boundaries and conventions. This is not the place to go into it at length, but music has tonality, which provides stability. Modern music constantly tries to break that stability. The effect on the listener is that it makes his head spin. It throws him off balance, disrupting his inner equilibrium, and even affects his physical balance and harmony. If music is all about harmony and unity, here we have music founded

42:09 Speaker 2 about breaking that unity. Even if we go back to earlier classical music, there is a great deal of music in the classical tradition that is built on tragedy, on expressing tragedy. A lot of music creates an atmosphere, feelings and emotions of tragedy, because that is what the composer experienced, or because the composer wanted to convey a powerful experience to the audience. But we want to use music as therapy for a person, to make him happy, to help him feel calm. Peace of mind. Inner peace. And here we have musical content that has exactly the opposite effect on a person: it draws him into some kind of inner turmoil and a negative experience. I’ll finish with one more little story. There was a musician named Michael Taubel[?] from England who went in to the Rebbe for yechidus. He was a student, and he told the Rebbe that he loved Chassidic niggunim and he loved classical music. The Rebbe asked him what the connection was between the two. He told the Rebbe that Chassidic niggunim are very soulful and deep, and classical music also has a great deal of depth. So the Rebbe told him: As for classical music, that is all well and good, but it depends. We must always remember what it is being used for. The Rebbe gave him an extreme example: the Nazis, may their names be erased, would lead Jews to where they were taking them while playing classical music. And there are actual scientific studies about a German composer named Richard Wagner. His music is classical orchestral music, but it is music that plays on the yetzer hara. It turns a person into a predatory animal. If we recall why the Torah forbids eating the meat of predatory animals, the Rebbe cites the Ramban: because the animal preys on others, eating it causes a person to acquire the animal’s predatory traits. So

44:22 Speaker 2 there is music that is predatory. There is music that, when a person listens to it, gives him the inner traits of a predatory animal. That is how far things can go. As for Chassidic niggunim, the Rebbe answered him that through a niggun, the Alter Rebbe could pull a soul out of the deepest spiritual mire and lift it to the loftiest heights. So now, when we return to the question we began with—what is negative music and what is positive music?—when we speak about Chassidic niggunim, we mean niggunim born out of an experience of love of Hashem, awe of Hashem, bittul, and holy things. They come from the musical creativity of the Chabad Rebbeim, of tzaddikim, of chassidim steeped in the service of Hashem. They are what is called “the lights of Tohu in the vessels of Tikkun.” So a niggun like that contains a great deal of health, not only spiritually but physically as well—mental health and physical health, literally. But when we take other music, we need to think twice. We need to consider each case on its own: exactly where the music comes from, and above all, what we are using it for. Why are we using it? “All your deeds should be for the sake of Heaven.” When you take a holy niggun, a Chassidic niggun, everyone is welcome to it. Our home is open to it, and we should play it for all the children so that everyone hears as much of it as possible. When we bring in another niggun, one from outside, we need to know what it is for, what the intention is, what it does to us, and why it is good. Does it provide therapy? Does it help someone? Is it a remedy? Then it can be used, but we need to know where it comes from and what effect it ultimately has. So fortunate is the person whose way and whose practice

46:17 Speaker 2 at home is to listen to the niggunim of chassidim, to Chabad niggunim. There is a statement in which the Rebbe requested that, when there was a campaign to open libraries of Torah books, the libraries should also have records of niggunim—records of holy niggunim in general and Chabad niggunim in particular. So the Rebbe does not rule out other holy niggunim. There are niggunim of the Jewish people, niggunim of various communities, including other communities, and Chassidic niggunim of other Chassidic groups. Then there are Chabad niggunim in particular, which have their special quality: the essential quality of a Chabad niggun, which contains the vitality of Chabad Chassidus. As for music and niggunim at a wedding and under the chuppah, the Shulchan Aruch and the halachic authorities discuss this. The wording of the halachic authorities is: “The main joy of a bride and groom is with musical instruments.” More than that, it is written: “There is no joy for a bride and groom without musical instruments.” One of the sources for this is Minhagei Maharil, which relates a remarkable story. In his time there was a decree. Some king was observing a year of mourning and was strict about it. He decreed that throughout his kingdom, no one could sing or play musical instruments that year. A family was about to hold a wedding. They sent the Maharil a question: could they hold the wedding when there was a decree against playing musical instruments? The Maharil answered that there is no joy for a bride and groom without musical instruments, so they had two options. One was to travel outside the kingdom and hold the wedding there. The other was to wait until the year ended, when the decree would expire, and then they could hold the wedding there, in accordance with the law of Moshe and Yisroel and with musical instruments. So we plainly see from the halachic authorities that musical instruments and niggunim at a wedding are not only for the wedding meal and the dancing. The central part of the wedding is the chuppah. The chuppah is the actual wedding ceremony, the kiddushin and the marriage. It all takes place under the chuppah,

48:34 Speaker 2 and afterward there is a festive mitzvah meal celebrating the chuppah. So music and musical instruments are not only for the klezmers at the wedding; they begin at the chuppah. There is a source in the holy Zohar that there should be a niggun at the chuppah, and the niggun for the chuppah is, of course, the Four Stanzas. That brings up another interesting point. There is a reply from the Rebbe concerning people who are not even religious. The Rebbe wrote that if the chuppah is conducted in accordance with the law of Moshe and Yisroel, then it is fitting and worthwhile to play the Four Stanzas, the Alter Rebbe’s niggun, at the chuppah. There is also a story that has been published in the name of the Rebbe’s secretary, Leibel Groner. Once, while the Rebbe was in his holy room, he heard a chuppah taking place in the courtyard of 770. At the chuppah they sang the Four Stanzas without instrumental accompaniment. The Rebbe asked the secretary to find out why they had no musical instruments. The secretary returned and told the Rebbe that they could not afford to bring in a musician. The Rebbe immediately took money out of his pocket and said that musicians should be brought for them. According to what is written in the tena’im document, the groom’s family and the bride’s family split the klezmer expenses equally. In other words, each side pays half the cost of the music at the wedding and the chuppah. The halachic authorities also mention that musical instruments were customarily brought not only to a chuppah, but to other festive mitzvah meals and events as well. This is mentioned regarding a bar mitzvah too. The holy Zohar says that a bar mitzvah is like the joy of a wedding. It is the wedding of the bar mitzvah boy, the bar mitzvah groom, with the Torah, and a wedding with Hakadosh Boruch Hu—the entry of the holy soul. So there is a source for this at a wedding celebration as well. Several early halachic authorities mention the matter of

50:41 Speaker 2 Musical instruments at a bar mitzvah—but it is not an absolute requirement, not like at a wedding, where they really are essential and a wedding is not held without musical instruments. They are also mentioned in connection with a bris meal and a pidyon haben meal. The Frierdiker Rebbe also mentions musical instruments at a hachnasas Sefer Torah. It is a Jewish custom to accompany a Sefer Torah with dancing and musical instruments, with everyone dressed in Shabbos clothes. But again, for these occasions, musical instruments are not essential in the way they are at a wedding meal and chuppah. As for the prohibition against hearing women sing, the Gemara and Shulchan Aruch state: “A woman’s voice is ervah”—that is, hearing a woman’s voice. The halachic authorities explain that this applies both to a married woman and even to an unmarried woman. The Pri Megadim says it applies even to a non-Jewish woman. So a woman’s voice is considered ervah. The Rebbe made an interesting point about this rule and this law: it does not detract from a woman’s dignity. Quite the opposite. We learn the rule that “a woman’s voice is ervah” from a verse in Shir Hashirim: “For your voice is sweet.” In other words, her voice is part of a woman’s beauty, and it is such a special beauty that it needs to be kept private. If it is not, it can arouse in men what should not be aroused. That is true even when a person does not feel it having any effect on him. In Kuntres HaAvodah, chapter 2, the Rebbe Rashab discusses guarding one’s eyes. He says that when a person sees something forbidden and does not feel that it arouses anything in him, it is not because it truly has no effect, but because it is an inner pleasure and he is so

52:31 Speaker 2 bound up with it that he does not feel it. The same applies here. If a person does not feel anything being aroused when he hears a woman sing, that does not mean there is no problem or that it does not bring out in him what it should not. It simply means he does not feel it. It is forbidden regardless. On the contrary, it may mean that for him it is a deeper, inner pleasure. According to halachah, a man may hear his mother, wife, sister or daughter sing. Now, looking at it from the other side, a woman may not sing in front of a man because of the rule, “Do not place a stumbling block before the blind.” A woman may not cause men to stumble, and she may not sing openly in front of men. So, for example, when girls travel by bus, on a school bus or on a trip, and the driver is a man, the girls need to be taught and instructed not to sing in front of men, including the driver or any other man who may be there. As for the age at which the rule that “a woman’s voice is ervah” applies, there are halachic authorities who say it begins only at age eleven or twelve. But the Ben Ish Chai says the issue applies already from age six. And in the plain sense, it applies once “your voice is sweet”—because the verse “For your voice is sweet” is the basis of the issue. Yichud with a girl is forbidden already from age three, and the laws of tznius apply from age three. So the rule concerning a woman’s voice also applies to girls and young children. There is a particular saying: the Rebbe Rashab heard one of his granddaughters singing and told her, “When you’re seventy, then you can sing.” So what did he mean by saying she could sing when she was seventy? It is an interesting point,

54:29 Speaker 2 because the rule that “a woman’s voice is ervah” is learned from the verse “For your voice is sweet.” Along similar lines, we know that young children have beautiful voices. In the singing of the Levi’im, a Levi becomes unfit to sing because of old age. Once he is elderly and his voice is no longer beautiful and sweet enough, he can no longer sing on the platform, because “your voice is sweet” no longer applies to him. But the Mishnah says there were young Levi’im—children below bar mitzvah age—who would come up and take part in the Levi’im’s singing. They were called the young Levi’im because their voices were more beautiful than those of the adults. Similarly, young girls also have beautiful voices. So here, too, it is certainly proper, as a matter of chassidic conduct, to take care not to hear even young girls sing. As for hearing women sing on a recording rather than live, the Rebbe once addressed this at a farbrengen, in a sicha on Pirkei Avos. Pirkei Avos says, interestingly, to keep away from ervah. The Rebbe said: this is Pirkei Avos, which deals with matters of chassidic conduct, beyond the letter of the law. So how does keeping away from ervah fit into that category? The Rebbe gave the example of hearing women sing on a recording. He said that from the standpoint of the revealed dimension of Torah, there is room to discuss whether this is forbidden or permitted. But as a matter of chassidic conduct, it is certainly considered ervah. So, as a matter of chassidic conduct, one does not listen to recordings of women singing either. By the way, if someone is traveling on public transportation and the radio is on, or the driver has put something on and women are singing, then under the law—dina demalchusa, as it is called—under the public transportation regulations,

56:26 Speaker 2 any individual passenger has the right to approach the driver and ask him to lower the volume, turn it off or change it to something else. The driver is required to comply with the request of even a single passenger. Even if the bus is full and one person approaches the driver and asks him to lower or change the music, he can do so. He has every right and full authority to make that request. As for a woman whistling, it would seem that whistling is not considered a woman’s voice. There is not much to distinguish a man’s whistle from a woman’s; they sound the same. So it would seem that the rule that “a woman’s voice is ervah” does not apply. But again, if she is a woman he is forbidden to, and she is whistling for his enjoyment, then of course that is not appropriate either. If a woman plays a musical instrument, that is certainly not a woman’s voice, and it is permissible to listen to her playing. But when it comes to a performance—a concert where a woman plays before an audience—the issue is not just hearing her; there is also the matter of looking at her. That is why it is called a performance: people come and watch the musician. So it is no longer appropriate for a woman to perform on the piano, or any other instrument, before an audience of men. As for recording in a studio, the halachic authorities have discussed the case of a woman who wants to record herself singing in a man’s studio. On the one hand, some have written that because the man is there working and occupied with his task, this is comparable to a woman visiting a male gynecologist: he is busy with his work. On that basis, they wrote that it is permissible. On the other hand, it is not so straightforward, because there is also

58:23 Speaker 2 the enjoyment of the singing itself. In any case, today there are many studios run by women, so of course, according to all opinions and approaches, it is certainly much more advisable for a woman to record in a woman’s studio.