Talmudology on the Parsha, Vayakhel: How The Menorah Became the Emblem of The State of Israel

שמות 31:17–22

וַיַּ֥עַשׂ אֶת־הַמְּנֹרָ֖ה זָהָ֣ב טָה֑וֹר מִקְשָׁ֞ה עָשָׂ֤ה אֶת־הַמְּנֹרָה֙ יְרֵכָ֣הּ וְקָנָ֔הּ גְּבִיעֶ֛יהָ כַּפְתֹּרֶ֥יהָ וּפְרָחֶ֖יהָ מִמֶּ֥נָּה הָיֽוּ

וְשִׁשָּׁ֣ה קָנִ֔ים יֹצְאִ֖ים מִצִּדֶּ֑יהָ שְׁלֹשָׁ֣ה ׀ קְנֵ֣י מְנֹרָ֗ה מִצִּדָּהּ֙ הָֽאֶחָ֔ד וּשְׁלֹשָׁה֙ קְנֵ֣י מְנֹרָ֔ה מִצִּדָּ֖הּ הַשֵּׁנִֽי

שְׁלֹשָׁ֣ה גְ֠בִעִ֠ים מְֽשֻׁקָּדִ֞ים בַּקָּנֶ֣ה הָאֶחָד֮ כַּפְתֹּ֣ר וָפֶ֒רַח֒ וּשְׁלֹשָׁ֣ה גְבִעִ֗ים מְשֻׁקָּדִ֛ים בְּקָנֶ֥ה אֶחָ֖ד כַּפְתֹּ֣ר וָפָ֑רַח כֵּ֚ן לְשֵׁ֣שֶׁת הַקָּנִ֔ים הַיֹּצְאִ֖ים מִן־הַמְּנֹרָֽה׃

וּבַמְּנֹרָ֖ה אַרְבָּעָ֣ה גְבִעִ֑ים מְשֻׁ֨קָּדִ֔ים כַּפְתֹּרֶ֖יהָ וּפְרָחֶֽיהָ׃

וְכַפְתֹּ֡ר תַּ֩חַת֩ שְׁנֵ֨י הַקָּנִ֜ים מִמֶּ֗נָּה וְכַפְתֹּר֙ תַּ֣חַת שְׁנֵ֤י הַקָּנִים֙ מִמֶּ֔נָּה וְכַפְתֹּ֕ר תַּֽחַת־שְׁנֵ֥י הַקָּנִ֖ים מִמֶּ֑נָּה לְשֵׁ֙שֶׁת֙ הַקָּנִ֔ים הַיֹּצְאִ֖ים מִמֶּֽנָּה׃

כַּפְתֹּרֵיהֶ֥ם וּקְנֹתָ֖ם מִמֶּ֣נָּה הָי֑וּ כֻּלָּ֛הּ מִקְשָׁ֥ה אַחַ֖ת זָהָ֥ב טָהֽוֹר׃

And he made the Menorah of pure gold: of beaten work made he the Menorah; its shaft, and its branches, its bowls, its bulbs, and its flowers, were of the same piece: and six branches going out of its sides; three branches of the candlestick out of the one side of it, and three branches of the Menorah out of the other side of it: three bowls made after the fashion of almonds in one branch, a bulb and a flower; and three bowls made like almonds in another branch, a bulb and a flower: so throughout the six branches going out of the Menorah. And in the Menorah were four bowls made like almonds, its bulbs, and its flowers: and a bulb under two branches of the same, and a bulb under two branches of the same, and a bulb under two branches of the same, according to the six branches going out of it.. Their bulbs and their branches were of the same: all of it was one beaten work of pure gold.

The 1948 Search for an Emblem of the State of Israel

Immediately after the establishment of Israel, the Provisional State Council appointed a committee to create its official flag and national emblem.  The committee publicized the search in a small newspaper announcement.

Among the few responses included one from the well known graphic designers Valish and Strosky. It featured the Menorah – the oldest Jewish symbol that can be positively identified, and that is first described in this week’s parsha. Their model of the Menorah was based on the one depicted on the Arch of Titus in Rome., and the row of seven gold stars is taken from Herzl’s own proposal for a flag.  These seven stars symbolized the seven-hour workday that Herzl had envisioned for Jewish workers.  In July 1948  the committee rejected Valish and Strosky’s proposal.

“One doesn’t chose a national emblem and flag every day”

— David Ben Gurion

Another newspaper notice was published, and this time there was more interest in the challenge. The committee received 131 entries, but only a few have been preserved in the State archives. Here are a some of them.

Graphic artists Gabriel and Maxim Shamir (whose proposal was ultimately selected), submitted a design. It depicted a stylized Menorah in modern form, specifically to break with tradition. Instead of curves there were six right angles rather than curves, and the heavy base was replaced with a tiny unsteady one, in an intentional dissociation from the traditional Jewish symbol.

In December 1948 the committee felt the Shamirs had the most promising design, but they wanted several changes, like adding the word “Israel” underneath.  A month later, at the seventh meeting of the committee, they reevaluated the modern design they had requested. Being a committee, they changed their minds again, and asked that the Menorah on the Arch of Titus be used - the same Menorah that had been depicted on the earlier design of Valish and Storsky.  Why?  According to Professor Alec Meroshi, of the Open University in Israel, it was because of the symbolism:

“It was a visual metaphor for a concept that was popular at the time…just as the fall of the Jewish state in 70 CE found visual expression in the relief depicting Titus’ triumphal procession on the arch…so would the rebirth of the Jewish state and the termination of exile be symbolized by the return of the menorah to its homeland, if not to the Temple, then to the state of Israel that had just been established.  The menorah was being removed from the arch, where it served as a symbol of defeat and degradation, and placed on the most honored spot of all – in the emblem of the State of Israel ” .

After some further minor revisions, the proposal was unanimously accepted on February 10th, 1949. The following day the provisional government published its “Proclamation of the Emblem of the State of Israel.”

Some of those first Israelis interpreted the design as as a victory for secular, socialist and democratic values over religious ones.  But the combination of the Menorah and olive branches in the Shamir design actually had graphic precedents – from the vision of the prophet Zechariah, which is read on Shabbat Channukah and Pa’arshat Beha’alotecha:

זכריה ד

וַיֹּ֣אמֶר אֵלַ֔י מָ֥ה אַתָּ֖ה רֹאֶ֑ה וָאֹמַ֡ר רָאִ֣יתִי ׀ וְהִנֵּ֣ה מְנוֹרַת֩ זָהָ֨ב כֻּלָּ֜הּ וְגֻלָּ֣הּ עַל־רֹאשָׁ֗הּ וְשִׁבְעָ֤ה נֵרֹתֶ֙יהָ֙ עָלֶ֔יהָ שִׁבְעָ֤ה וְשִׁבְעָה֙ מֽוּצָק֔וֹת לַנֵּר֖וֹת אֲשֶׁ֥ר עַל־רֹאשָֽׁהּ׃ וּשְׁנַ֥יִם זֵיתִ֖ים עָלֶ֑יהָ אֶחָד֙ מִימִ֣ין הַגֻּלָּ֔ה וְאֶחָ֖ד עַל־שְׂמֹאלָֽהּ׃

And he said to me, What seest thou? And I said, I have looked, and behold a menorah all of gold, with a bowl upon the top of it, and seven lamps to it, and seven pipes to the seven lamps, which were upon the top of it: and there are two olive trees by it, one upon the right side of the bowl, and the other upon the left side of it.

Zechriah had seen the Menorah in the Second Temple which was completed in 521 C.E. This was apparently the same Menorah that was captured some 500 years later by Titus and carried off to Rome.  And so the emblem of the State of Israel may well replicate the actual Menorah in the Bet Hamikdash, one that in turn is based on the description in this weeks’ parsha.

We don’t like it

Public reaction to the new emblem was swift and extreme; it was criticized by both the religious and the secular. On February 13, 1948, the very next day after the winning emblem had been announced, Gershon Schoken, editor of Haaretz wrote:

This proposal…is nothing but a horror from an aesthetic viewpoint…the execution is so vulgar and amateurish that no self-respecting commercial firm would even consider selecting it as its trademark…

Israel’s Chief Rabbi, Yitchak Halevi Herzog (and the grandfather of the current President of the State if Israel) was also annoyed.

What our government has done today is wrong…it has copied the depiction of the Menorah on the Arch of Titus, which was apparently the work of foreigners, and is not entirely in accordance with the sacred prescriptions…

It might be surprising to learn that the Emblem of Israel was initially controversial, but great decisions require compromise and understanding. What better message could there be for the State of Israel today?

Bava Metzia 2a ~ Garments, Game Theory and the Principal of Contested Sums

בבא מציעא ב,ב

שנים אוחזין בטלית ... זה אומר כולה שלי וזה אומר חציה שלי ...זה נוטל שלשה חלקים וזה נוטל רביע

Two hold a garment; ... one claims it all, the other claims half. ... Then the one is awarded 3⁄4, the other 1⁄4.

We open the new masechet of Bava Metzia with two people claiming ownership of a garment. One claims that it belongs entirely to her, and the other claims he owns half of the garment.  In this case, the Mishnah rules that each swears under oath, and then the garment is divided with 3/4 awarded to one claimant and 1/4 to the other.

Rashi and the Principal of Contested Sums

In his explanation of  our Mishnah, Rashi notes that the claimant to half the garment concedes that half belongs to the other claimant, so that the dispute revolves solely around the second half. Consequently, each of them receives half of this disputed half - or a quarter each.:

זה אומר חציה שלי. מודה הוא שהחצי של חבירו ואין דנין אלא על חציה הלכך זה האומר כולה שלי ישבע כו' כמשפט הראשון מה שהן דנין עליו נשבעין שניהם שאין לכל אחד בו פחות מחציו ונוטל כל אחד חציו

Now of course this is only one way that the garment could be divided between the two claimants. For example, it could be divided in proportion to the two claims, (2/3-1/3), or even split evenly (1/2-1/2).  But instead, and as Rashi explained, the Mishnah ruled using the principal of contested sums. Which is where Robert Aumann comes in.

Game Theory from Israel's Nobel Prize Winner

We have met Robert Aumann before, when we reviewed Israel's glorious winners of the Nobel Prize. For those who need reminding, Aumanm, from the Hebrew University, won the 2005 Nobel Prize in Economics. His work was on conflict, cooperation, and game theory (yes, the same kind of game theory made famous by the late John Nash, portrayed in A Beautiful Mind). Aumann worked on the dynamics of arms control negotiations, and developed a theory of repeated games in which one party has incomplete information.  The Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences noted that this theory is now "the common framework for analysis of long-run cooperation in the social science." The kippah-wearing professor opened his speech at the Nobel Prize banquet with the following words (which were met with cries of  אמן from some members of the audience): 

ברוך אתה ה׳ אלוקנו מלך העולם הטוב והמיטב

If you haven't already seen it, take the time to watch the four-minute video of his acceptance speech. It should be required viewing for every Jewish high school student (and their teachers).

Where was I? Oh, yes. Contested sums.  In 1985, twenty years before receiving his Nobel Prize, Aumann described the theoretic underpinnings of today's Mishnah, as part of a larger discussion about bankruptcy.  His paper, published in the Journal of Economic Theory, is heavy on mathematical notations and light on explanations for non-mathematicians (like me).  Fortunately he later published a paper that is much easier to read and which covers the same material.  The second paper appeared in the Research Bulletin Series on Jewish Law and Economics, published by Bar-Ilan University in June 2002.  "Half the garment" wrote the professor, "is not contested: There is general agreement that it belongs to the person who claimed it all. Hence, first of all, that half is given to him. The other half, which is claimed by both, is then divided equally between the claimants, each receiving one-quarter of the garment." Here is how Aumann visualizes it:

There is another example of this from the Tosefta, a supplement to the Mishnah and contemporary with it. In this new case, one person claims the entire garment, and one claims only one third of it. In this case, the first person gets 5/6 and the second gets 1/6.  

Aumann calls this principal the "Contested Garment Consistent." It turns out that this principal is found in other contested divisions, like a case in Ketuvot 93a, in which a man dies, leaving debts totaling more than his estate. The Mishnah explains how the estate should be divided up among his three wives, each of who has a claim. And it uses the same principal as the one found in today's Mishnah: the Contested Garment Consistent.

משנה, כתובות צג, א

  מי שהיה נשוי שלש נשים ומת כתובתה של זו מנה ושל זו מאתים ושל זו שלש מאות ואין שם אלא מנה חולקין בשוה

היו שם מאתים של מנה נוטלת חמשים של מאתים ושל שלש מאות שלשה שלשה של זהב

היו שם שלש מאות של מנה נוטלת חמשים ושל מאתים מנה ושל שלש מאות ששה של זהב

If a man who was married to three wives died, and the kethubah of one was a maneh (one hundred zuz), of the other two hundred zuz, and of the third three hundred zuz, and the estate was worth only one maneh (one hundred zuz), they divide it equally. 

If the estate was worth two hundred zuz, the claimant with the kesuva of the maneh receives fifty zuz,  while the and the claimants of the two hundred and the three hundred zuz each receive three gold denarii (worth seventy-five zuz).

If the estate was worth three hundred zuz, the claimant of the maneh receives fifty zuz, the claimant of the two hundred zuz receives a maneh (one hundred zuz) and the the claimant of the three hundred zuz receives six gold denarii (worth one hundred and fifty zuz)…

Aumann likes to think of it this way:

Here is how he explains what is going on in the Mishnah in Ketubot.

We’ll call the creditor with the 100-dinar claim “Ketura,” the one with the 200, “Hagar” and the one with the 300, “Sara.” Let’s assume, to begin with, that the estate is 200. As per [the table above], Ketura gets 50 and Hagar 75 – together 125. On the principle of equal division of the contested sum, the 125 gotten by Hagar and Ketura together should be divided between them in keeping with this principle. ... In other words, the Mishna’s distribution reflects a division of the sum that Hagar and Ketura receive together according to the principle of equal division of the contested sum...
The division of the estate among the three creditors is such that any two of them divide the sum they together receive, according to the principle of equal division of the contested sum. This precisely is the method of division laid down in the Mishna in Bava Metzia that deals with the contested garment. 

There's a lot more to the paper, including an interesting proof of the principal using fluids poured into cups of different sizes.  But I prefer to focus on another aspect of the paper.  Prof. Aumann notes that, in addition to its own internal logic, the underlying principal of contested sums fits in well with other talmudic passages. 

The reader may ask, isn’t it presumptuous for us to think that we succeeded in unraveling the mysteries of this Talmudic passage, when so many generations of scholars before us failed? To this, gentle reader, we respond that the scholars who studied and wrote about this passage over the course of almost two millennia were indeed much wiser and more learned than we. But we brought to bear a tool that was not available to them: the modern mathematical theory of games.

The actual sequence of events was that we first discovered that the Mishnaic divisions are implicit in certain sophisticated formulas of modern game theory. Not believing that the sages of the Talmud could possibly have been aware of these complex mathematical tools, we sought, and eventually found, a conceptual basis for these tools: the principle of consistency. Of this, the sages could have been, and presumably were, aware. It in itself is sufficient to yield the Mishnaic divisions; and it is this principle that we describe below, bypassing the intermediate step – the game theory.

It’s like “Alice in Wonderland.” The game theory provides the key to the garden, which Alice had such great difficulty in obtaining. Once in the garden, though, Alice can discard the key; the garden can be enjoyed without it.

What a wonderful analogy. Game theory is the key to entering the garden, a key which might not have been available to earlier generations who learned the Talmud. How lucky we are.   

Talmudology on the Parsha, Ki Tisah: The Dangers of the Census

Count, But be Careful

In this week’s parsha, God commands Moses to count the people, and each person counted “shall pay the Lord a ransom for himself on being enrolled, that no plague may come upon them through their being enrolled.” Only men twenty years of age and older were to be counted, and each was to give one half-shekel to support the running of the Tabernacle. This money was used “to expiate [lehaper] for your persons.”

For the first time - but not the last- the Torah views the census as an inherently hazardous undertaking. It could, or perhaps would always result in a pandemic outbreak, but that could be prevented by the giving of the half-shekel.

שמות 15:30–11

וַיְדַבֵּ֥ר יְהֹוָ֖ה אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֥ה לֵּאמֹֽר׃ כִּ֣י תִשָּׂ֞א אֶת־רֹ֥אשׁ בְּנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵל֮ לִפְקֻדֵיהֶם֒ וְנָ֨תְנ֜וּ אִ֣ישׁ כֹּ֧פֶר נַפְשׁ֛וֹ לַיהֹוָ֖ה בִּפְקֹ֣ד אֹתָ֑ם וְלֹא־יִהְיֶ֥ה בָהֶ֛ם נֶ֖גֶף בִּפְקֹ֥ד אֹתָֽם׃ זֶ֣ה ׀ יִתְּנ֗וּ כל־הָעֹבֵר֙ עַל־הַפְּקֻדִ֔ים מַחֲצִ֥ית הַשֶּׁ֖קֶל בְּשֶׁ֣קֶל הַקֹּ֑דֶשׁ עֶשְׂרִ֤ים גֵּרָה֙ הַשֶּׁ֔קֶל מַחֲצִ֣ית הַשֶּׁ֔קֶל תְּרוּמָ֖ה לַֽיהֹוָֽה׃ כֹּ֗ל הָעֹבֵר֙ עַל־הַפְּקֻדִ֔ים מִבֶּ֛ן עֶשְׂרִ֥ים שָׁנָ֖ה וָמָ֑עְלָה יִתֵּ֖ן תְּרוּמַ֥ת יְהֹוָֽה׃ הֶֽעָשִׁ֣יר לֹֽא־יַרְבֶּ֗ה וְהַדַּל֙ לֹ֣א יַמְעִ֔יט מִֽמַּחֲצִ֖ית הַשָּׁ֑קֶל לָתֵת֙ אֶת־תְּרוּמַ֣ת יְהֹוָ֔ה לְכַפֵּ֖ר עַל־נַפְשֹׁתֵיכֶֽם׃

And the Lord spoke to Moshe, saying: When thou dost take the sum of the children of Yisra᾽el after their number, then shall they give every man a ransom for his soul to the Lord, when thou dost number them; that there be no plague among them, when thou dost number them. This they shall give, every one that passes among them that are numbered, half a shekel after the shekel of the sanctuary: (a shekel is twenty gera:) a half shekel shall be the offering of the Lord. Every one that passes among them that are numbered, from twenty years old and above, shall give the offering of the Lord.The rich shall not give more, and the poor shall not give less than half a shekel, when they give the offering of the Lord, to make atonement for your souls.

“-Az me tseylt nisht, kumt arayn di brokhe
”When you don’t count, a blessing comes” ”

— Yiddish saying

King David and His deadly census

It is this obvious danger that King David was warned about when he commanded his military advisor Joab to “make the rounds of all the tribes of Israel, from Dan to Be’er-Sheva, and take a census of the people, so that I may know the size of the population.” Joab was reluctant. “May the Lord your God increase the number of the people a hundredfold, while your own eyes see it,” he told his king. “But,” Joab asked, “why should my lord king want this?” (2 Sam 24:3).

David was not persuaded, the census was taken, but something—we are not told what— convinced David he had made a mistake. “Afterward David reproached himself for having numbered the people. And David said to the Lord, ‘I have sinned grievously in what I have done. Please, Lord, remit the guilt of Your servant, for I have acted foolishly.’” God refuses to absolve David, and the prophet Gad gives the king a choice of punishment: “Shall a seven-year famine come upon you in the land, or shall you be in flight from your adversaries for three months while they pursue you, or shall there be three days of pestilence in your land? Now consider carefully what reply I shall take back to He who sent me.” David asks that he not fall into the hands of men, and here the Greek translation known as the Septuagint adds a line not found in the original Hebrew: “So David chose the pestilence. It was the time of the wheat harvest.” As a result of this choice, “God sent a pestilence upon Israel from morning until the set time, and 70,000 of the people died, from Dan to Be’er-Sheva.”

A different account of this story is found in the Book of Chronicles (I Chron. 21 et seq). In one of its versions, it is Satan who entices King David to count the population. Joab then decides to count those under the age of 20, in clear defiance of the orders for the census found in this week’s parsha.

יוֹאָ֨ב בֶּן־צְרוּיָ֜ה הֵחֵ֤ל לִמְנוֹת֙ וְלֹ֣א כִלָּ֔ה וַיְהִ֥י בָזֹ֛את קֶ֖צֶף עַל־יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל וְלֹ֤א עָלָה֙ הַמִּסְפָּ֔ר בְּמִסְפַּ֥ר דִּבְרֵֽי־הַיָּמִ֖ים לַמֶּ֥לֶךְ דָּוִֽיד׃         

Joab the son of Zruya began to count, but he did not finish, because there fell wrath for it against Yisrael; nor was the number put in the account of the chronicles of king David.

In addition, there is no mention—in either version of the Davidic census —of the giving of the required half-shekel. This is the basis for several medieval biblical commentaries who explained that the pandemic that followed was because the expiation (kopher) had not been given.

אבן עזרא שמות 30:12

י"א כי המגפה שהיתה בימי דוד בעבור שלא נתנו כופר נפשם

Some say that the plague which occurred in the days of David struck because Israel did not offer a ransom for their soul.

The census & the Evil Eye

Rashi believed the counting invoked the Ayin Harah, the Evil Eye, and this was the cause of the pandemic that followed, though he doesn’t elaborate.

ולא יהיה בהם נגף. שֶׁהַמִּנְיָן שׁוֹלֵט בּוֹ עַיִן הָרָע, וְהַדֶּבֶר בָּא עֲלֵיהֶם, כְּמוֹ שֶׁמָּצִינוּ בִימֵי דָּוִד (שמואל ב כ"ד)

ולא יהיה בהם נגף THAT THERE BE NO CALAMITY AMONG THEM — for the Evil Eye rules when things are counted, and therefore if you count them with na census a pandemic may befall them, as we find happened, in the days of David (II Samuel 24:10 and 15).

As a consequence of King David’s refusal to take a personal punishment for his crime of counting the people, a pandemic killed 70,000 of his subjects. The belief that counting people allows the Evil Eye an opportunity to cause harm was prevalent among the Jews of eastern Europe. They had Yiddish saying: “When you don’t count, a blessing comes” [Az me tseylt nisht, kumt arayn di brokhe].” And Jewish children would protect themselves when being counted while in Polish public schools by whispering “oyf di tseyn”—“on my teeth.”

It Comes from the The Pandemic Gods of the Ancient Near East

The fear of taking a census is actually far older than the Bible itself. It can be found in the writings of Mari, an ancient city in what is now northwestern Syria. The royal archives there contained thousands of letters which were first excavated in the 1930s and include detailed written records of how the census was to be taken. Some of the words that appear on the Mari cuneiform letters are like the Hebrew constructs used in the Bible. For example, “to record” [paqadum] has the same root as the Hebrew root word p-k-d meaning “to count.” The famous Jewish Assyriologist Ephraim Avigdor Speiser (1902–1965) noted that in Mesopotamian lore “the writing down of names could on certain occasions be a very ominous process . . . on periodic occasions, the higher powers made lists which determined who among the mortals was to live and who was to die” (Jon Betz, “A Tale of Two Plague Gods,” Biblical Archeology Review 47. Winter 2021: 58–9).

There must thus have been a time when the ancient Near Easterner shrank from the thought of having his name recorded in lists that might be put to unpredictable uses. Military conscription was an ominous process because it might place the life of the enrolled in jeopardy. The connection with the cosmic “books” of life and death must have been much too close for one’s peace of mind. It would be natural in these circumstances to propitiate the unknown powers, or seek expiation as a general precaution. In due time, such a process would be normalized as a tebibtum in Mesopotamia, and as a form of kippurim among the Israelites . . . And such fears would be kept alive by plagues, which must have decimated crowded camps more than once.

In ancient Mesopotamia, there were several deities associated with plagues and pandemics. Nergal, the king of the underworld, was a god of war who was also responsible for plagues. Around the second century B.C.E. his role was merged with another god, Erra, and the combined Nergal/Erra god-complex became responsible for both war and pestilence. Namtar (literally, “fate”) was another Mesopotamian deity associated with disease, whose role, wrote Jon Betz, “was more similar to that of the grim reaper of modern folklore.” He is described in Sumerian texts as having “no hands, has no feet, [and] who takes away/goes about by night.” Nergal acted as a sort of judge to whom an appeal for clemency could be made, while Namtar had the role of judicial executioner, who could not be reasoned with. “In some ways,” Betz noted,

this dynamic is not unlike that between YHWH and personified pestilence. As in Habakkuk 3, plague and pestilence are sometimes YHWH’s instruments, but elsewhere we find prayers to YHWH against plague and disease. Returning to 2 Samuel 24:10-25 and 1 Chronicles 21:1-30, we can see this distinction. The angel bringing the plague cannot be reasoned with, but YHWH can be. When YHWH is moved to compassion by his people’s suffering, he is the one who tells the angel to halt the plague.

As the centuries passed, the census remained unwelcome, but less than it had been before. In biblical times it was still ominous to be counted, but it became possible to prevent any harm by paying a half-shekel to the Temple. What is strange for us was not strange for our ancestors. As is so often the case, the Torah’s original audience understood these things because they lived them.

Maimonides and Medicine - the Movie

Last week, Dr Eddie Reichman and I presented two talks on Maimonides and Medicine at the Yeshiva University Museum in New York. The evening was part of an exhibition, The Golden Path: Maimonides Across Eight Centuries, which features manuscripts and rare books from the Hartman Family Collection.

With gratitude to the Museum, we are happy to present a video of the event. You can find the link here. Enjoy.

Jeremy Brown: The Surprising Influence of Maimonides’ Treatise on Poisons: Starts at minute 7:30.

Eddie Reichman: If the Rambam were Alive Today: Contemporary Jewish Ethics Through the Eyes of Maimonides. Starts as minute 36:30.