by Rabbi Leead Staller
How can we celebrate Simchat Torah, our annual celebration of the completion of the Torah reading cycle, when most Jewish communities around the world have not actually finished the Torah this year? Due to the restrictions of COVID, hardly a Jewish community in the world read every Parshah in the Torah, as we all experienced necessary Shul closures. So what does Simchat Torah mean in 2020?
This is hardly the first time in history that large portions of the Jewish community did not finish the Torah. The Gemara (Megillah 29b) records that the ancient custom of the Jews who lived in the land of Israel during Talmudic times was not to read the entire Torah every year, like we are all used to nowadays, but rather, to finish reading the Torah every three years. This divergence between Israel and the exile makes sense, as our earliest recorded basis for our tradition is found in the above Gemara that records that on the second day of Shemini Atzeret, the Minhag was to read the Parshah of VeZot HaBrachah. That would only be possible for Jews in the diaspora who celebrate two days of Yom Tov! But what about the Jews of Israel– why didn’t the Gemara tell us when they should read VeZot HaBrachah? It must be they would read it on a random Shabbat, whenever their triennial cycle got up to it, as Simchat Torah as we know it was not an established holiday in Israel! Perhaps due to this reason, there is very little early record of the holiday of Simchat Torah, with the earliest mention of the name “Simchat Torah” first appearing in the time of the Geonim, following the Talmudic era.
Given that, it is unsurprising that the Sefer Chiluf Minhagim, a Geonic era work that records the differences in custom and practice between the Israeli and Babyloian Jewish communities, records (Siman 48) that the Jews of Israel did not celebrate Simchat Torah on Shemini Atzeret, like the norm around the world now. Rather, whenever they finished their three year cycle, only then would they celebrate the completion of the Torah. In fact, the Sefer Chiluf Minhagim even suggests that across the various communities that used a triennial Torah reading cycle, there wasn’t necessarily a standardized schedule or division of the Parshiyot, and every individual community might finish the Torah at a different time, and thus make their Siyum on different days! This perhaps explains the ambiguity between the above Gemara that implies that Israeli Jews finished the Torah every three years, and the Mishnah in Masechet Sofrim that seems to indicate that the Israeli Torah reading cycle was actually three and a half years long. There was some amount of divergence between each and every community, as they did not have a standardized holiday of Simchat Torah around which to coordinate their Torah reading.
However, in the 12th century, Binyamin MiTudela, the world traveler and ethnographer who wrote about his travels in his work Masot Binyamin, records a surprising custom. According to Binyamin MiTudela, even though the Jews of Israel did not finish their triennial Torah reading cycle every year, nonetheless they would come down to Babylon and join the Jews of the diaspora in their celebration of Simchat Torah every year. But if these Israeli Jews did not finish the Torah, then what were they celebrating every year? And why was it important enough for them to make the journey all the way from Israel to Babylon– surely not a small feat in those times!
To understand this surprising custom, I think we have to first understand what Shemini Atzeret was like for these Israeli Jews who were not finishing the Torah. While the Gemara says that on the first day of Shemini Atzeret (and only day in Israel), the Torah reading should be from the section of the Torah that describes the holiday of Shemini Atzeret, various early authorities record that different traditions of Torah reading develop. Rav Hai Gaon records an interesting custom to read the section from Netzavim of “Ki HaMitzvah HaZot,” where God tells us of an unnamed Mitzvah of great import that is in our mouth and hearts to fulfill. This section of the Torah is very telling as a choice for the day’s leining. Rambam and most other commentators interpret the anonymous Mitzvah that is being emphasized in this Torah portion as the Mitzvah of Talmud Torah, and point to this section as the Torah’s source for the central and immense significance Torah learning has in our relationship with God.
That being the case, perhaps this model of “Simchat Torah” (although not called that by those who celebrated it) is revealing as to the actual themes of the day itself. While we know Simchat Torah celebrates our completion of the Torah, perhaps, according to this custom of Rav Hai we can understand the theme and celebration of the day as being even broader. Simchat Torah is not just about our localized experience of having learned the entire Torah this year, but rather, is a celebration of Talmud Torah and the enterprise of Torah learning itself. Simchat Torah is the day where we celebrate and acknowledge that the Torah, its messages and values, and its way of life are central to who we are and our mission in this world.
The timing of this day could not be more apt. As the very last day of the holiday season that kicks off the Jewish new year, Simchat Torah is the transition point between our jam-packed month of Tishrei, full of beautiful prayers, Mitzvot, and communal gatherings, and the long drought of day to day life that exists between now and Pesach, the next major holiday. As such, it is apt that we chose to focus on the centrality of Talmud Torah, as, without the Mitzvot and spiritual highs of the holidays, it will be the daily devotional act of regular Torah learning that will occupy our religious lives and keep us spiritually nourished during the coming winter months. Thus, we signal our transition from celebratory holidays to the more subdued devotion of regular Torah learning through Simchat Torah, a day dedicated to celebrating the centrality of Torah learning.
Perhaps this is the reason that Jews of the diaspora chose this day as the appropriate time to complete their Torah reading cycle. What better day to finish and celebrate our most integral and public Torah-learning project– our regular communal Torah reading– than on a day that is itself dedicated to the centrality of Torah learning in our practice. Thus, the Jews of Israel, by reading the section of the Torah that espouses the importance of Torah learning on their one day of Yom Tov, effectively celebrated Simchat Torah just like the Jews of the diaspora, as both communities designated the last day of the holiday season for a celebration of Torah learning as a way to appropriately transition into the year ahead.
And yet, while that may explain why the Jews of Israel would also celebrate Simchat Torah without having finished their Torah reading cycle, it still does not explain why, according to Binyamin MiTudela, they would travel all the way from Israel to Babylon to celebrate Simchat Torah together? What was so special that it warranted a joint celebration, despite the necessary journey of hundreds of miles of treacherous travel? Again, I think we have to return to the custom of Rav Hai Gaon. For, in addition to serving as the basis for the centrality of Torah learning, the section of “Ki HaMitzvah HaZot” has an additional significance in the tradition. During the times of the Temple,every seven years, on Shemini Atzeret, all of the Jewish people would congregate together in Jerusalem from across the world and listen to the King of Israel read “Ki HaMitzvah HaZot” from the Torah in a ceremony known as Hakheil. Thus, Rav Hai Gaon’s tradition of reading Ki HaMitzvah HaZot on Shemini Atzeret serves as a throwback and a reenactment to the Hakheil ceremony in which the Jewish people gathered together for a moment of communal Torah reading.
Indeed, Don Isaac Abarbanel (Devarim 31:11) explicitly cites this tradition of performing Hakheil on Shemini Atzeret as itself the source of Simchat Torah, tying the day of Simchat Torah to the communal gathering of Hakheil. That being the case, the meaning of Simchat Torah takes on an added dimension, beyond being a celebration of the centrality of Torah learning. While organized around Torah reading, the point of Hakheil was not about Torah learning. Indeed, the Torah tells us that even infants, who cannot understand a thing, are supposed to be brought to Hakhiel, as the emphasis of the Hakheil ritual is the cohesion of the entire Jewish people coming together. It is not the content of the Torah itself that is being focused on, but rather, the role Torah plays in uniting the Jewish community.
This, in turn, can explain why the Jews of Israel thought it was important to come together with the Jews of Babylon to celebrate Simchat Torah. In addition to celebrating our completion of the Torah cycle, and celebrating the important of Torah learning, Simchat Torah serves as a day that celebrates the role Torah plays in unifying the Jewish people. We are not merely an ethnonationalist state, unified around share blood or genetics. Hakheil reminds us that the backbone of the Jewish nation, the very basis of our unity, is our shared commitment to the Torah. Thus, by celebrating a mini-Hakheil every Simchat Torah, on the anniversary of the historical event that used to take place in the Temple, we reenact and recreate that moment of Jewish unity that our ancestors experienced thousands of years ago, and tie ourselves to the unity at the foot of Mount Sinai where we were like one nation with one heart. Simchat Torah serves as a reminder of our shared mission and shared purpose as a nation unified by the Torah.
The world we live in today is full of divisions– on a broader level, in our country, and on a more localized level, within our own faith community. Let us take this upcoming Simchat Torah as a day to refocus ourselves on what our values should be– as informed by our commitment to Torah learning– and to celebrate the unified mission that all of us, as the Jewish people, are charged with fulfilling.
Kohelet and Goodbye
by Rabbi Joe Wolfson
Stanton Street Community:
It has been a true joy and pleasure to spend quality time with the community over these summer months. During this time the community - like every community - has experienced an existential crisis. Yet standing back and surveying these months it is astonishing what the Stanton St community achieved: a safe and coordinated return to in-person services, more Torah learning than ever before, special Zoom services and the appointment of a new rabbinic couple in Rabbi Leead and Shoshana to lead the community forward. If this is how the community responds to a crisis, just imagine how she will flourish again once this difficult period is behind us.
I look forward to continuing my relationship with the community for many years to come
In friendship,
Rabbi Joe Wolfson
On Shabbat of Sukkot, tradition holds that we read Megillat Kohelet. I’ve always loved the sense of pedagogic irony that our Sages had when they instructed that the festival which has a greater emphasis on joyfulness than any other occasion in the calendar should also be the time when we enter King Solomon’s pessimistic world that declares havel havalim hakol havel – all is nothingness, vanity, futility.
I’d like to explore this tense relationship between joy and sadness, optimism and depression, through the prism of a deceptively simple midrash found in the collection known as Kohelet Rabba. The question that bothers the rabbis is the order in which Shlomo Hamelech wrote his three works. The question is an interesting one because of the great difference between the books. Kohelet, as mentioned, is dark and gloomy. The world is full of injustice and there is little to be done about it. Any achievement is only fleeting. The memory of great works will fade quickly. Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs) is a love song. Fervent, passionate, sensuous – the relationship between the two lovers, the dod and the raya, is so powerful and full of emotion that it has always been viewed as the ultimate metaphor for describing the relationship between God and Israel (side-note: this is a radical and daring idea, not a conservative kill-joy one as many people wrongly assume). Mishlei (Proverbs), in contrast to both of the other works, is practically minded. It contains aphorisms for how to best deal with this world and make a practical success of this life. A soft answer turns away wrath – is my mother’s personal favourite.
How fascinating that one person could have written three such different works! And so, to return to the question, in what order did Shlomo write his works? The Midrash presents us with two answers:
רבי יונתן אמר: שיר השירים כתב תחילה, ואחר כך משלי, ואחר כך קהלת – ומייתי לה מדרך ארץ: כשאדם נער – אומר דברי זמר, הגדיל – אומר משלות, הזקין אומר: הבל הבלים
רבי יוסי אמר: לעת זקנה, סמוך למיתתו, שרתה עליו רוח הקודש ואמר שלשה ספרים הללו: משלי, שיר השירים וקהל
Rebbi Yonatan said: Shir HaShirim he wrote first, after that Mishlei, and after that Kohelet – and he derived this from derech eretz – when a man is young, he writes songs, when he grows up he writes parables/advice (Mishle) and when he is old he says, all is vanity.
Rebbi Yossi said: as an old man, close to death, divine inspiration came to Shlomo and he wrote these three works: Mishlei, Shir HaShirim and Kohelet.
For Rebbi Yonatan, Shlomo wrote the books throughout his life – each one corresponding to the age he was passing through at that time. For Rebbi Yossi, Shlomo, as an old man, wrote the books simultaneously with one another.
What is to be made of this disagreement? It seems to be that both suggestions convey important messages about growth, development and experience – messages that I seek to convey on a regular basis to my students. I’d like to share them here.
From Rebbi Yonatan I learn that each stage of our life is to be treated as distinct from each other stage – each has its own challenges and potential achievements – and that we may be doing ourselves a disservice if we are held hostage to expectations and assumptions about ourselves that come from a different period of our life. One of the most damaging lessons that I find many students have absorbed during their time in Israel is the idea one’s spiritual and religious life goes downhill from aged 19. The best one can hope to do is to tread water and not stray too far from one’s time in yeshiva or midrasha. I miss the yeshiva every day and there is no place that I have more gratitude towards for my own development than the yeshiva. But a young man or woman finishing their Torah studies in Israel has another 101 years to live and will be left with a sense of guilt, lack of fulfillment or apathy if they think that the rest of their life won’t provide them with meaningful challenges and areas for growth. Shlomo may have written Shir HaShirim by the time he was 19 but he still had a lot more left in him. Rebbi Yonatan teaches us that each stage of life has its own book of Tanakh that needs to be written.
And what is to be learned from Rebbi Yossi’s claim that Shlomo wrote all three books in the same period of his life? Perhaps that it’s OK to have multiple and conflicting emotions and experiences at any one time. That it’s legitimate to hold different and even contradictory values simultaneously and to find meaning in very different pastimes and commitments. Maybe this is true wisdom, and it’s probably easier to achieve as we get older. I like the idea that it’s OK to be a Kohelet person and a Shir HaShirim person at the same time! And that not only is this combination of contradictions legitimate, it’s the well-spring of creativity and even ru’ach hakodesh.
And possibly Rebbi Yossi teaches us something even more important. That we shouldn’t feel strait-jacketed into feeling a certain thing at a certain point in our lives just because that’s what is expected of us. It’s ok to be a young person and to be depressed and pessimistic even though everyone around you is incessantly positive and expects you to be too. Better still, it’s ok to be elderly and frail, but nevertheless be head over heels in love with the partner you’ve been with for sixty years, singing ‘let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth, for your love is better than wine’ (Shir HaShirim 1:1)