Podcast Transcripts · Chabad עבריתChabadpedia

Lemaan Yishmeu (Halacha Institute) · Episode 333 · 4 Tammuz 5785 · 32:26

Laws of Sta"m - Rabbi Moshe Weiner shlita

Episode description

In this class, Rabbi Moshe Weiner shlita will explain what constitutes kesivah tamah—properly formed script—and the importance of writing tefillin and mezuzos in the correct order. 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 Today we’re going to discuss a broad topic in the laws governing the shapes of letters in STaM, and a novel point we find in the Alter Rebbe’s practical halachic ruling. It applies to many letters and many situations involving letters in STaM. The first principle we need to understand is a law called kesivah tamah—complete writing. This means there is a special requirement for letters to be kosher, and that requirement can apply in several areas. It begins with the form of the letter itself: what the letter looks like, and whether it meets the standard of kesivah tamah. There are other laws of kesivah tamah, but for now we’ll discuss the form of the letter under that standard. It is widely known that kesivah tamah requires a clear distinction between the shapes of letters, so that letters are not confused with one another or made to resemble one another. For example, the Gemara says not to make beises look like kafs or kafs like beises; likewise, not to confuse gimmels with nuns, gimmels with tzadis, vavs with yuds, and so on. In other words, the writing must be so clear that there is no room for a reading error. If a reader sees a kaf where a word requires a beis, the writing is invalid because it is not kesivah tamah. Similarly, a vav must not be so short that it looks like a yud, nor a yud so long that it looks like a vav. This is a well-known law in the Gemara, subsequently codified by all the halachic authorities: one must be precise about the shapes of letters. In general halachic terminology, this requirement of precision is called kesivah tamah. Here we come to a novel point that is not so widely known, which we see in the rulings of the Rema in Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chayim, section 32, and in the Alter Rebbe’s Shulchan Aruch. The Gemara discusses what happens when a letter is shortened. Take a hei, for example: for some reason, its right leg is shorter than the required measure. It became shortened because it was broken, cut, or pierced by a hole,

02:42 Speaker 2 and in practice, its right leg does not have the usual full length required for a hei. The Gemara says: If enough remains of the hei’s right leg to equal the full measure of a small letter, the hei is still kosher. If that much does not remain of its right leg, it has lost the form of a hei and is invalid. What does “the full measure of a small letter” mean? The Rishonim disagree about this, as recorded in the Beis Yosef, and their disagreement depends on another question: What is the law when the left leg of a hei is short? The Rosh’s view, as cited in the Tur and the Shulchan Aruch, is that the left leg has no required measurement. It does not have to equal the full measure of a small letter; it is enough for the form of the hei to remain recognizable. That is, even if the inner stroke of the hei is small, as long as everyone can still recognize the letter as a hei, it retains the form of a hei. Its appearance shows that the hei is there. Accordingly, when we said earlier that the right leg must retain the full measure of a small letter, that is simply a standard for its appearance. It is not a measurement to be taken; rather, enough must remain of the right leg for us to see it clearly as a hei. If enough remains for our eyes to recognize it clearly as a hei, then that hei is kosher. We might require some measurement to establish a standard everyone can agree on, but in principle, according to the Rosh, the “full measure of a small letter” mentioned by the Gemara for the right leg—but not required for the inner leg—tells us that what determines the status of a hei that has been shortened is its visible form. If it still looks like a hei, it is a hei. If it has lost the visible form of a hei, it is no longer a hei and is therefore invalid. We can apply this to all the letters. Take a dalet, for example. It has no inner leg, but it has a right leg. If the leg

05:00 Speaker 2 of the dalet has been shortened, and enough remains to equal the full measure of a small letter—meaning that it still looks like a dalet—it will be kosher after the fact. But if it is so short that the dalet has lost its form because it has no recognizable leg, then even if a very small bit of the leg remains, it is invalid: that bit is not recognizable as a leg because it does not meet the full measure of a small letter. That is one approach. There is another approach that I want to focus on today: that of the Mordechai and the Baal Haterumah. They say that the inner leg of the hei, too, must equal the full measure of a small letter. Not only do they require a measure; they also define it: the full measure of the letter. In other words, the inner leg of the hei must have a measurable length equal to a yud. A yud is the smallest letter, and the inner leg of the hei must have that much height. In their view, it is not enough for our eyes to see a hei. No, that is not enough. A recognizable shape is not enough; the shape must also have the required measure. The Mordechai says that measure is a full yud. If the hei’s inner leg is shorter than a full yud, the hei is invalid—even if everyone says it is a hei, and we can clearly see that it is a hei. Because it lacks the required measure, it is invalid. The Rema says that this is the halacha, and the Alter Rebbe rules likewise in his Shulchan Aruch, section 32. In other words, we do not adopt the leniency of the first approach, which bases the ruling on the visible form of the letter; we require a measure. When we examine this second approach, we find a tremendous development and innovation in the area of kesivah tamah. According to the first approach, kesivah tamah simply means that the letters must be clear; when a letter is clear to the eye, it is acceptable. We do not actually need

07:07 Speaker 2 a measurement for the letter. We don’t need one. If we can still see it as a hei, it is a hei. This is stated quite clearly and explicitly by several Rishonim: that is what “the full measure of a small letter” means. It does not mean a full small letter as a measured length, but as seen by the eye. If something remains of the right leg that can be called a leg, it is acceptable. Not so according to the Baal Haterumah and the Mordechai, whose view was also adopted by the Rema and the Alter Rebbe. Besides the requirement for clear kesivah tamah—the Gemara makes clear that a letter that has lost its recognizable form is invalid, and everyone agrees on that—there is another specific law: kesivah tamah requires proper proportions within a letter. If a letter lacks the required proportions, it is invalid even though we can recognize it. In our case, that is not because it is no longer a hei, but because it lacks the required measure. This is a distinct disqualification under the laws of kesivah tamah. This explanation and ruling have a direct implication for the Gemara’s statement that one must be careful not to make vavs into yuds or yuds into vavs. Most people, including leading rabbis of recent generations, understand this to mean that a vav should not be made to look like a yud—for example, by shortening its leg until it looks like a yud—and that one should not lengthen a yud until it becomes a vav. That is, one should not lengthen the leg of a yud until it looks like a sort of vav, because then the yud would be mistaken for a vav and the vav for a yud. But what if the leg of the yud is a little long yet slopes inward? The Maharshal’s responsa state that since everyone can clearly see it is a yud, because its leg bends inward and it does not resemble a vav, whose leg is straight, the length of its leg does not matter to him. He means that the leg is longer than the thickness of the head. So this yud is about two and a half pen-widths high, perhaps a little more

09:15 Speaker 2 Less, but the leg is as long as the dominant part. Yet in the illustration it is clear that there is a body to the yud, so it is kosher: the yud will not be mistaken for a vav, and the vav will not be mistaken for a yud. What is clear to us, and what matters most, is the visible shape of the letters. Since the shape of the vav is clear, and the shape of the yud, distinct from the vav, is also clear, vavs will not be mistaken for yuds or yuds for vavs, and therefore this yud is kosher. But according to the understanding we explained of the Rema’s position in the Alter Rebbe’s Shulchan Aruch, based on the approach of the Sefer Haterumah and the Mordechai, it is not enough for the vav to look like a vav and the yud to look like a yud. The legs of the vav and the yud must have defined dimensions that identify them as vavs and yuds. If they do not meet those dimensions, then even though the shape looks right to the eye, the letter is invalid, because it is not kesivah tamah, proper writing: it lacks the required dimensions. Let’s start with the vav. A vav may stand on the line at the same overall height as the other letters and look like a vav. But because its head is thick—and this happens quite often—its leg is not longer than the head is thick; they are more or less equal. The head has thickened for some reason, as happens, while the leg stands straight. When we measure it, we find that the length of this vav’s leg and the thickness of its head are equal. In other words, the leg is not longer than the head is thick. What do we rule in practice, according to the Alter Rebbe, in this case? According to the approach of the Sefer Haterumah, as I explained, letters must meet specific dimensions. And the Rebbe writes here, following the law we mentioned earlier about the space for a small letter in a hei, that for a vav, the space for a small letter is not enough, because that measure automatically puts it in the category of the dimensions of a yud. The Rebbe was also aware that one can draw the yud in a way that does not make it look like a vav with a short leg. No,

11:24 Speaker 2 that does not help at all. If the vav’s leg is not long enough to meet the required measure, it immediately has the dimensions of a yud and is invalid; nothing will help here. The Rebbe says the same thing about the letter zayin. Although one can generally distinguish a zayin from a yud quite clearly—the zayin’s head extends on both sides, unlike the vav and the yud, whose heads protrude only to the left—a zayin with a short leg will not be mistaken for a yud. That is the question the Pri Megadim raises, and he leaves it unresolved: what, seemingly, is the problem? It does not look like a yud at all. But according to our explanation of the Rebbe’s view, everything is clear. If the zayin’s leg is only as long as its head is thick, or even shorter, it is certainly invalid. It lacks the required dimensions of a long letter, which must be a vav or a zayin with a leg longer than the thickness of its head. Instead, its leg is shorter or only equal to that thickness. Those are the dimensions of a yud, and the letter is invalid. It is not invalid because its visible shape has changed; it is invalid because it lacks the required dimensions. This gives us two more very, very important insights that affect practical halachah today. In many passages for tefillin and in Sifrei Torah, scribes who are not especially meticulous or sufficiently skilled in their craft, and who do not fully understand the halachic distinctions and definitions, draw a yud in two very common invalid ways. The first, as we mentioned earlier, is that although the body of the yud is approximately as thick as the width of the quill, its leg is longer than its head is thick. They rely on the view of the Maharshag, which we mentioned earlier: since the yud’s shape is clear, it will not be mistaken for a vav. But according to the Alter Rebbe, this yud has, in fact, taken on the dimensions of a vav. It is quite possible that it would be

13:22 Speaker 2 invalid as a vav too, because a child might be confused and call this vav a yud. But the Rebbe holds that since the leg is longer than the head is thick, it is a vav, and it is invalid as a yud. The fact that it is invalid as a vav does not make it kosher as a yud; it is essentially a kind of vav. A yud’s leg must be no longer than the thickness of its head, because the moment it exceeds that thickness, the dominant part of the letter is no longer the head but the leg. That is the distinction between a vav and a yud according to the Alter Rebbe’s approach, based on the Sefer Haterumah and the Mordechai. The main part of a yud is the body of its head; the leg is secondary. The leg descending from it is secondary. It must be less than a quill-width, not a full quill-width. If it exceeds that length, the leg becomes the principal part of the letter’s height; it is a vav and is invalid as a yud. The reverse is also true of a vav, as we said: if for some reason its leg is only as long as its head is thick, it is a kind of yud and is invalid, and having a child read it will not help. The same applies to the yud, as we said earlier: if the thickness of its head is not the main part of the letter and does not provide its principal measure, it is a kind of vav, not a yud, and is invalid. Another insight we learn from this law is that, according to the second explanation—the approach of the Sefer Haterumah and the Mordechai, adopted by the Rema and the Alter Rebbe—letters are assessed by actual measurement, with a ruler, so to speak, not by a general impression of how they look. And the measurement is based on the letter yud. This necessarily means that the yud itself has required dimensions, and if it lacks them, it is invalid. In other words, the body of the yud must have the standard dimensions of a yud, what scribes call the width of the quill. The width of the quill with which the scribe writes is the basic unit of measurement. If the yud is narrow—not in its overall width, but in its thickness, as often happens in less carefully written tefillin and mezuzos when the scribes are unaware of this—so that the thickness of the yud comes out to

15:32 Speaker 2 about half the width of the quill, it is clear that a yud smaller than an ordinary yud cannot be mistaken for anything else. There is no problem with its appearance to the eye: it clearly looks like a yud. Nevertheless, it will be invalid because it lacks the required dimensions of a letter, as required by the laws of kesivah tamah, which we mentioned. According to this approach, there are two halachic requirements. The first is the correct shape, distinguishing it from other letters. Everyone agrees on that. The second is the required dimensions of a letter. A yud whose head is not thick enough to meet the measure of a yud, a small letter, is invalid. It is inconceivable that we would invalidate a hei that does not have room for the thickness of a yud while not requiring the yud itself to have that thickness. That makes no sense. Clearly, the required quill-width is a general measure: when we write, there must be a standard minimum thickness for all the roofs and legs of the letters. If they do not meet that minimum, they are invalid not because they have lost their shape and become another letter, but because they lack the required dimensions of a letter. That is an insight into the law of kesivah tamah. I’ll give another example that I have seen several times. Everyone knows that a zayin and a final nun have essentially the same shape; the only difference is the length of the leg. A final nun is about three quill-widths long: two quill-widths within the height of the line and at least one more quill-width, perhaps a little more, descending below it. A final nun is a long letter, whereas a zayin stands exactly within the line and is three quill-widths high: one quill-width for the thickness of its head and two quill-widths for the height of its leg. Often, for various reasons, the tagin on the head of a final nun, for example, run together. Suddenly the head fills in, and more tagin are added even higher up. Now the head of this nun is no longer one quill-width thick but two quill-widths. No one will

17:33 Speaker 2 Notice the problem that has arisen here: everyone immediately identifies it as a final nun because it extends below the line. Everyone knows that a leg extending below the line automatically makes it a final nun, whereas if it stood within the line, it would be a zayin. So, looking at its shape, it still looks like a final nun because of the letter’s overall height. But in terms of its required proportions, the final nun has departed from them and has effectively become a kind of zayin. The ratio of its leg to its head is no longer that of a final nun, whose leg should be about three times the length of its head; it is only twice as long, and often even less. It is a mistake to judge by the letter’s overall dimensions relative to the surrounding letters and its height within the line. That is not enough, because, as we said, the laws of proper writing require both the correct shape and the correct proportions of the letter. In short, today we learned a law that some sofrim are not very familiar with. At least among the sofrim of Anash, we follow the Alter Rebbe’s Shulchan Aruch in matters of STaM, and what it says is quite clear—in section 32, paragraph 19, and in several other places, though that is the main one. Beyond the required shape of the letter—that a yud must not resemble a vav or any other letter, a familiar requirement that all sofrim study and that appears in many other books—there is another, particular requirement. The proportions of the parts of a letter must be observed, not only the minimum measurements required. For example, the leg of a vav must be longer than the thickness of the quill, and that of a dalet must be at least one quill-width. The proportions between the parts of the letters must also be right. Often the roof becomes thick, taking up half the letter or most of it, and then we lose the correct proportions

19:29 Speaker 2 of the letter. This raises a question of a lack of hiddur or a failure to meet the standard of proper writing, which, on a straightforward reading of the Alter Rebbe’s position, makes all STaM invalid. Whether the invalidity is by Torah law or rabbinic law is something that needs discussion, but under the clear ruling of halachah, it is invalid. Another problem in STaM, especially in tefillin and mezuzos, is a very serious one, as everyone involved in the laws of STaM knows: in tefillin and mezuzos, all the letters must be written in order. If the letters are written out of order—that is, if I have to correct a letter in tefillin after I have already written further on—everything written after that correction is invalid, because the letters in tefillin, and likewise in a mezuzah, must all be written in sequence, one after another. If a letter was erased, lost its validity, or needed a correction because it had previously been invalid, then everything written after it was written out of order. This is a well-known law called writing out of order. It applies to tefillin and mezuzos, but not to a Sefer Torah. In a Sefer Torah, if a letter was lost or erased, or the sofer skipped it, he can fill it in afterward. There is no requirement to write a Sefer Torah in order. With tefillin and mezuzos, there is such a requirement, so when a letter becomes invalid, it effectively invalidates everything written after it, often requiring the parshiyos of the tefillin or the mezuzah to be placed in genizah. There is a remarkable innovation in a ruling of the Maharam. The Maharam is cited by the Rema and later by the Beis Yosef, and this is how the Shulchan Aruch rules. No one disputes this ruling; everyone accepted the Maharam’s ruling. The Maharam taught that there are minor defects—not his wording, but we will use it for now—small defects that invalidate a letter, yet may be corrected out of order. That is what the Maharam taught, and he gave two examples. A yud needs to have

21:36 Speaker 2 the left-hand point required by Rabbeinu Tam. If that left-hand point is missing, the Maharam taught that, since the letter’s overall shape is still recognizable and what is lacking is a requirement of proper writing, it can be corrected and completed even out of order. This ruling of the Maharam is recorded in the Shulchan Aruch: although a yud missing Rabbeinu Tam’s point is invalid—at least according to the Rema and all the Ashkenazi authorities, as is our practice today—the point may be added out of order without violating the requirement to write in order. Similarly, the Maharam taught that if there are gaps in letters—for example, if the upper yud of an alef is detached from the body of the yud—from the body of the alef, or if the yuds of a shin or ayin are detached and are not connected to the body of the shin or ayin—the entire letter must form a single body, called one continuous form. Two letters are exceptions: hei and kuf. Apart from those, every letter must be one body of uninterrupted ink, without any gap. If there is a gap, the letter is invalid. This law, too, is codified in the Shulchan Aruch: all letters other than hei and kuf must form one continuous body, and otherwise they are invalid. Nevertheless, the Maharam says that if these gaps are small—that is, the essential shape of the letter is still recognizable—the gap may be repaired by adding ink out of order, because only a small amount of writing is needed. The classic example in halachah is the upper yud of an alef, which is connected to the roof of the alef. If it was not connected to the roof and there is a gap between the yud and the rest of the alef, then, since it is clear to us that this is an alef and there is no question which letter it is, it may be connected, even though it had been invalid and even though many letters have since been written in the tefillin or mezuzah. We do not say

23:35 Speaker 2 that the correction amounted to writing the letter anew, making all the letters after it written out of order. That is the Maharam’s innovation. It is an innovation worth examining, and there are several ways to understand its basis, but this is not the place in this lesson to explain them. In short, we learn from the Shulchan Aruch and the Maharam that if a letter has a gap but retains its shape because the gap is small, repairing it is considered a minor correction and may be done out of order. This law also appears in the Alter Rebbe’s Shulchan Aruch, section 32. There is relatively little disagreement about the law itself. The disagreement arose over how to interpret the details of such a gap. What brought the issue to the fore was a ruling of the Maharil. He says that the letter ches is made up of two zayins in Beis Yosef script, or a vav and a zayin in the Arizal’s script, though that difference does not matter for our purposes here. They are joined—the vav and zayin, or the two zayins—by a chatoteres, a thin roof that joins the two sides of the letter into one body. What is the law if there is a gap in that chatoteres? The Maharil was asked this question, and he answered: Here I have a problem. Ordinarily, if such a gap occurred in another letter, I would ask a child. If the child said the original letter was still there, it could be corrected. If the child said the original letter was no longer there—meaning its shape had been lost—that would indicate that the correction would now effectively create the letter anew, so the writing would be out of order. For example, a tzadi is made up of a yud and a nun. If the yud were so far detached that, to a reader—or, if there were doubt, to the child—it would not look like a tzadi, and he would say it was a yud and a nun, then this tzadi, because of the gap that formed between the part

25:41 Speaker 2 The right-hand part and the left-hand part have become a yud and a nun, so it is no longer a tzadi. If I repair it, I am actually creating a new tzadi, and that is writing out of sequence. But if a child recognizes it as still being a tzadi because the gap is very small—if the gap is small and the child recognizes it—then it is a tzadi. We do not say it is a yud and a nun; it is a tzadi, and it may be repaired. The Mahari"l says that this is true of a tzadi, a yud, and a nun, because all three of these letters are familiar to a child. The Mahari"l encountered a problem: in his time, children did not recognize the ches written in a Torah scroll, tefillin, or mezuzah. They knew the ches printed in siddurim, what is called a Sephardic ches or a Rashi-script ches, whose roof is smooth and straight, not broken with a hump. It looks as it does in siddurim and Chumashim, where the roofs of the ches and the hei are straight. So when a child was shown a ches from tefillin or a mezuzah, he would immediately call it two zayins, because he did not know that form of ches. The Mahari"l says: I have a problem—what do I do here? Who will determine for me whether this is still a ches because the gap is small, or whether the ches has lost its form and become two zayins, so it cannot be repaired? The Mahari"l therefore decided, and ruled, as follows: If it is clear to our eyes, to the rabbis or scribes, that it is really a ches—that is, the gap is very narrow, and it is clear that a child familiar with this kind of ches would immediately identify it as a ches—then we stand in the child’s place and say that it is a ches and may be repaired. If the gap is larger, so that it is clear to us that a child would read it as two zayins, or if we are unsure, or the child would be unsure, then we cannot say with certainty that it is a ches. We must be stringent and say that it is two zayins and may not repair it, because

27:28 Speaker 2 the repair would be writing out of sequence. This ruling of the Mahari"l is also quoted in the Shulchan Aruch, and from there by all the later authorities. An enormous new implication emerges from the explanation of the Mahari"l’s words. What was the problem there, when the child did not recognize the letter ches? The problem was that the ches had become two zayins. Fine. What happens in the reverse case? Suppose there really are two adjacent zayins written in tefillin or a Torah scroll—for example, in the word mezuzos, where one spelling has two zayins because the first vav is omitted; or in mezuzos spelled with the vav, where the vav and zayin are extremely close because the vav has a small projection in the script of the Arizal and the zayin has a tag, or where two zayins have tags. Although they do not touch, they are so close that we recognize them as a ches. If a ches were required there, we would permit it to be repaired. So, in effect, it is a ches. It is a ches, because repairing it is permitted. That means the Torah scroll or tefillin does not now say mezuzos; it says machazos or mezuchos. I do not know, but what is written here is effectively a ches. If halachah allows me to identify two zayins—or a ches whose hump has been severed—as a ches and say, “This is a ches,” then by repairing it I have not made a new letter. I have merely made a minor repair and restored its original form, which was already there. I only filled in the gap; it was clear that it was a ches. If so, when two zayins are close together, I must also say that they are effectively a ches. So if two zayins in tefillin or mezuzos are written very close together—and this happens often, because each has tags and the writing in tefillin and mezuzos is crowded—if their tags are so close that, had a ches been required, I would have permitted it to be repaired as a ches, then it is effectively a ches,

29:28 Speaker 2 and it is invalid. Of course, separating them will not help, because separating them is chak tochos. I will not explain now what chak tochos is, but these two zayins have lost their form and become a ches because they are too close together; or the vav and zayin have become a ches in the script of the Arizal. And everything written after that is invalid, because it cannot be repaired due to the prohibition against writing out of sequence. Unfortunately, this happens often. I will give two more examples; it happens often, and people are not aware of it. And there are many rabbis, thank G-d, who do rule it valid. But I have to stand by my position and say what logic makes clear: we cannot skip over one provision and disregard a second. We cannot take one side in one provision and the other side in another. If I call this combination of two adjacent letters a particular letter—to the point that I am lenient and allow it to be repaired despite the rule about writing out of sequence—then I certainly must be stringent and say that those two letters have become the other letter, rendering the writing invalid. Certainly those two zayins are no longer zayins; they have become a ches. I will give another example. Take the word bechor. An open mem is actually made up of a chaf and a vav, except that the chaf and vav touch: a thin connection joins the upper left end of the chaf to the right side of the vav. What happens if there is a narrow gap between the chaf and the vav in a mem within a word? Clearly, the Mahari"l’s ruling applies. If we are unsure, we will have to ask a child. If the child says it is a mem, it may be repaired. If the child says, “No, that is not a mem; it is a chaf and a vav,” then it may not be repaired in tefillin and mezuzos, because that would be writing out of sequence. So what is the ruling in the reverse case? For example, in the word bechor, if the chaf is so close to the vav that a child

31:27 Speaker 2 says it is a mem, then it is a mem, and the tefillin are invalid. This can occur in many cases, and we must be very careful that letters placed close together do not become another letter, even though they do not touch. Do not make the mistake people make when they say that because the letters do not touch and there is blank parchment between them, they are valid. That is not correct. Since a different letter is clearly visible to us, it effectively has the form of that other letter—so much so that it would be permissible to repair it as that letter. And if it may be repaired as that letter, then it is considered that other letter. The chaf and vav that we needed have become a mem. The two zayins that we needed have become a ches, and there are many other examples.