Surf A Little Torah
Yeshivat Har Etzion

Pesach

by Rav David Silverberg

            Yesterday, we discussed the Gemara in Masekhet Pesachim (108a) concerning the obligation of heseiba (reclining) while drinking the arba kosot (four cups).  The Gemara could not reach a decision on the issue of whether heseiba is required while drinking the first two cups or during the final two cups, and therefore, given the uncertainty, rules that we recline while drinking all four cups.  The Rishonim, as we saw, wonder why the Gemara establishes this stringency, given the famous principle of safeik de-rabbanan le-kula – that we may assume the lenient possibility when faced with a doubt concerning an obligation ordained by Chazal (as opposed to Torah law).  Here, why don’t Chazal permit us to recline for either the first two or last two cups?

            The Ran, as we cited yesterday, explained that applying safeik de-rabbanan le-kula in this case would not allow us to decide on either the first two or last two.  Rather, it would mean that as we prepare to drink each of the four cups, a situation of doubt arises concerning heseiba for this specific cup.  The rule of safeik de-rabbanan would then allow drinking without reclining.  It would thus turn out, the Ran claims, that we would not perform heseiba for either of the four cups, as regarding each we have a doubt concerning a rabbinic obligation, allowing us to act leniently.  In order to preserve the practice of heseiba, Chazal had no choice but to suspend the rule of "safeik de-rabbanan" in this case and mandate heseiba for all four cups.

            Rabbi Akiva Eiger, however, dismissed this reasoning of the Ran, arguing that when we prepare to drink the third cup, after not having performed heseiba for either of the first two, undoubtedly an obligation of heseiba sets in.  Whether the obligation applies to the first two or last two, one who did not recline during the first two would have to recline for the last two.  Therefore, according to the Ran's reasoning, Chazal should have legislated that we recline while drinking the last two.

            How do we resolve Rabbi Akiva Eiger's objection to the Ran's explanation?  Wherein lies the point of disagreement between these two approaches?

            It would appear that the Ran and Rabbi Akiva Eiger here reflect two different perspectives on the relationship between the obligation of arba kosot, and that of heseiba.  All agree, of course, that one must recline while drinking either the first two or last two of the four cups.  The issue under debate is how these two obligations – reclining and drinking the four cups – relate to one another.  One approach views these two as fundamentally unrelated.  One halakha requires us to drink arba kosot, and a separate halakha requires that we recline at the seder.  As a practical matter, we observe the latter obligation while observing the former; we must recline as we drink the first/last two cups of wine.  Fundamentally, however, these two obligations are unrelated.  The second approach would claim that heseiba, rather than being separate from arba kosot, constitutes but a detail within the mitzva of arba kosot.  We recline at the seder not due to a separate obligation of heseiba, but rather because the obligation of arba kosot is defined as drinking two cups while reclining, and two cups without necessarily reclining.

            One might argue that these two possibilities form the conceptual basis for the debate between the Ran and Rabbi Akiva Eiger.  Let us examine their respective arguments more closely.  According to Rabbi Akiva Eiger, the obligation of heseiba automatically sets in as one prepares to drink the third cup, for even if Halakha requires drinking the first two cups while reclining, if this was not done, the obligation is transferred to the final two.  The Ran, apparently, disagreed on this very point.  He believed that if the heseiba obligation applies to the first two cups, then the failure to recline while drinking the first two cups will not require reclining during the last two.  Presumably, Rabbi Akiva Eiger viewed heseiba as an independent obligation, rather than a detail of the mitzva of arba kosot.  Since a separate mitzva requires reclining at the seder, then even if optimally this is to be done while drinking the first two cups, the opportunity is not lost if one neglected to do so.  The Ran, however, likely felt that heseiba merely defines the mitzva of arba kosot.  Thus, according to the view in the Gemara requiring heseiba for the first two cups, the mitzva of arba kosot is defined as an obligation to drink two cups while reclining and later drink two cups without necessarily reclining.  Since reclining for the first two cups is the very definition of the mitzva, one would accomplish nothing by reclining for the last two cups.  Therefore, in the Ran's view, when one prepares to drink the third cup, a situation of doubt arises.  According to the view requiring heseiba for the first two cups, he need not recline now, for he already missed the opportunity to observe the heseiba requirement.  Only according to the second view would he have to recline, and the rule of safeik de-rabbanan allows him to follow the lenient possibility.  It turns out, then, according to the Ran, applying safeik de-rabbanan le-kula in this instance would in effect abolish heseiba – something Chazal did not want to allow.

(Based on an article by Rav Avraham Yeshaya Berman zt"l, Rosh Yeshiva of "Kenesset Meir" in Rishon Le'tziyon)

David Silverberg

*****

            In one of the most famous sections of the Haggada, it depicts four types of children and the manner in which each asks (or does not ask) for an explanation of the rituals he observes.  The third child, the "tam," generally translated as "simple son," asks very "simply," "Ma zot" – "What is this?"  It is commonly understood that the "tam" lacks the sophistication of the "chakham" (wise son), and therefore formulates his question more simply than the "chakham," but he has more intelligence than the "she-eino yodei'a li-shol," who knows not how to ask at all.  And unlike the "rasha" (wicked son), he asks his question sincerely, not with antagonism.

            However, the Haggada's recommended response to the "tam" requires some explanation.  Based on a verse towards the end of Parashat Bo (13:14), the Haggada has us reply to this child, "With a mighty hand the Lord took us from Egypt, from the house of bondage."  Why must we emphasize God's "mighty hand" manifest during the Exodus?  Does not a "simple" question warrant a "simple" answer?  Why not "simply" explain to this child that we were enslaved by the Egyptians and the Almighty freed us, and we thus observe the laws of Pesach to commemorate this event and give thanks to God?  Wherein lies the importance of the wonders and miracles accompanying the Exodus in our response to the "tam"?

            Some have explained that the "tam" is not "simple" in the sense of an unsophisticated mind.  Rather, he does not understand why we can't keep things "simple."  Based on the Haggada's response to his question, it appears that he already knows about the Exodus and perhaps even understands the need for commemoration.  What he does not accept, however, is the "fuss" surrounding this commemoration.  Why the weeks of cleaning and shopping, why all the complicated halakhot, why the changeover of the kitchen, the seder table, the hours of discussion during "maggid," and so on?  Why can't we celebrate Yetziat Mitzrayim with a simple dinner?  Why does Halakha require such a fuss?

            The Haggada answers, "With a mighty hand the Lord took us from Egypt."  We make a fuss about Yetziat Mitzrayim because God made a fuss about Yetziat Mitzrayim.  He could have very easily ensured our freedom far less spectacularly, such as, for example, the way He saved us from Haman's decree in Persia many centuries later.  Natural law was not established in order to be broken; God works within the natural order unless some pressing need warrants otherwise.  If God chose to release us from slavery "with a mighty hand," then undoubtedly He wanted to impress upon us the singular, unparalleled importance of this event.  We, in turn, likewise emphasize the unique significance of Yetziat Mitzrayim by celebrating Pesach the way we do – after immense preparation and with much excitement and "fanfare."

            We thus tell the "tam" that we cannot keep Pesach simple, because the Exodus was no simple matter.  If God made such a big deal about it, then so must we.

David Silverberg

*****

            With the advent of modern machinery in the 1800's, many Jews began producing matza via machine, which was far more cost effective than baking by hand.  This development gave rise to considerable controversy in the Torah world, and the issue has yet to be fully resolved to this very day.  Authorities who at that time opposed the use of machine matza on Pesach include the first Gerrer Rebbe (the Chiddushei Ha-Rim), the Avnei Nezer, Rav Chayim of Sanz, and Rav Shlomo Kluger.  By contrast, Rav Avraham Sofer (the "Ketav Sofer," son of the Chatam Sofer), Rav Yosef Shaul Nathanson and others permitted using machine-made matzot on Pesach.

            Many different reasons were given for forbidding the use of machine matzot; we will cite several of them.  One concern had to do with the impossibility of keeping the machines perfectly clean.  This meant that residual dough would collect and become chametz, which would then render chametz all matzot produced subsequently.  Others claimed that the heat generated by the motor warmed the parts of the machine that came in contact with the matza, thus accelerating the fermenting process.  It would then take less than the traditional eighteen minutes for the dough to become chametz.  Yet another problem had to do with the oil dripping from various sections of the machine, which could also cause the dough to ferment.  Other authorities objected to the square shape of machine matzot, claiming that the traditional round shape was of important symbolic significance.  Some rabbis opposed the use of machines because it meant the loss of employment for those who earned a living by baking matzot.  Many objected simply due to the conservative instincts of the traditional Jew, who abhors deviation from time-honored custom, particularly in an age when many Jews campaigned for the "modernization" of Judaism and sought to detach it from its spiritual roots ("chadash assur min ha-Torah").

            The first several arguments have since become obsolete.  Technological advancement has found ways to ensure that the machine remains perfectly clean and that the motor's heat does not reach the dough, and oil-leaks are rare.  As for the insistence on round matzot, the halakhic basis for such a requirement is far from clear.  And although, indeed, a number of jobs might be lost by the use of machinery, this legitimate concern is clearly offset by the drastic drop in matza prices resulting from the use of machines, which would enable many Jews to purchase matza more easily.  And the instinctive disdain for innovation, critically important as it is, has its limits.  One could easily argue that the transition from manual labor to machinery in the production of matza does not mark significant enough a deviation from tradition to forbid the use of machine-made matzot.

            There remains, however, one important halakhic factor which would perhaps disallow the use of machine-made matzot.  The mizva of eating matza on the first night (or first two nights in the Diaspora) requires eating matzot that were prepared specifically with this obligation in mind ("li-shma"), at least from the time of the wheat's grinding, preferably from the point of harvesting.  One ramification of this halakha is that anybody not included in the mitzva of matza may not take part in the process of baking.  Thus, for example, one does not fulfill his mitzva of eating matza if a gentile or Jewish minor baked the matzot.  This applies even if a Jewish adult stands over the non-Jew or child and ensures that everything was done properly.  Therefore, many argued, how can we allow the use of matzot produced by a machine?  Certainly the machine can be no better than a gentile or Jewish child!

            Other authorities, however, argued that a Jewish adult pressing the button to set the machine into motion suffices for us to consider the matzot as having been prepared by somebody included in the obligation (Rav Tzvi Pesach Frank, among others).

            All this applies specifically on the first night(s) of Pesach, when there exists a specific obligation to eat matza.  During the duration of Pesach, however, this factor would appear to be irrelevant, and we should therefore permit the use of machine matzot.  However, the Mishna Berura (460:2) approvingly records a practice among many to maintain throughout Pesach the same standards regarding matza as Halakha requires for the first night(s).  This custom thus insists on eating "matza shemura" – matza that has been guarded against chametz and prepared specifically with the mitzva in mind – throughout the entirety of the festival.  Accordingly, there might be room as an additional measure of stringency to eat only handmade matzot throughout Pesach.

            In practice, many people make a point of using handmade matzot for the mitzva on the first night(s) of Pesach, but will eat machine matzot during the rest of the festival.  It would seem that those who find it difficult to eat handmade matzot (for any reason, such as financial, dental, and so on) may rely on the lenient position and eat machine matzot even on the first night.

            Importantly, the Nit'ei Gavriel mentions in the name of the Kloizenberger Rebbe that even the stringent view would not treat machine-made matzot as chametz.  He adds that even the 19^th-century authorities who declared these matzot chametz did so only for purposes of emphasis, and due to the difficulty involved in cleaning the machines and so on, as discussed above.

David Silverberg

*****

            Towards the end of the "maggid" section of the Haggada, we read of a seemingly peculiar debate among the Tanna'im as to how many plagues actually occurred in Egypt, and how many occurred at the Yam Suf (Sea of Reeds).  According to all opinions, however, five times as many plagues took place at the sea than in Egypt.  This emerges from the fact that after the third plague (lice), Pharaoh's astrologers acknowledge that the plague is "the finger of God" (Shemot 8:15), whereas after the splitting the sea "Israel saw the great hand" (Shemot 15:31).  If the plagues in Egypt are likened to a "finger," while the miracle of the sea is considered a "hand," then we must conclude that the splitting of the sea included five times the number of plagues that occurred in Egypt.  If we assume, then, as does Rabbi Yossi Ha-gelili, that only ten plagues were visited upon Egypt, it would turn out that the Egyptians suffered fifty plagues at the sea.  According to Rabbi Eliezer's view, that the Egyptians actually suffered forty plagues in Egypt, two hundred plagues occurred at the sea.

            What is this discussion all about?  What does it mean that the Egyptians suffered five times as a many plagues at the sea as they did in Egypt?  What underlies this comparison between the plagues and a "finger" and hand"?

            Rav Yechiel Michel Epstein (author of the Arukh Ha-shulchan), in his commentary to the Haggada (entitled "Leil Shimurim"), explains that the astrologers' acknowledgment of the "finger of God" fell short of recognition of God's supreme power.  The natural world consists of four basic elements: air, fire, water and earth.  When the plague of lice descended upon the Egyptians, the astrologers noticed that this peculiar species of lice could not have originated from any of these four elements; it must have resulted from a different force.  They therefore concluded that there exists a fifth element in the universe, a physical force in addition to the four of which they were already aware.  They thus described this power as a "finger" – one of five.  What they recognized as divine power worked, in their view, alongside the familiar forces of nature, rather than controlling them.

            Only with the splitting of the sea was the message of "the hand of God" fully manifest.  Here the Almighty showed that His might is not just a "finger," it is not one of several forces on earth, but rather the supreme force that exerts absolute control over the others.  Just as the hand enjoys total control over the fingers, so does God have full power over the "fingers" – all the natural forces in the world.

David Silverberg

*****

            On the second night of Pesach we begin counting sefirat ha-omer.  In Eretz Yisrael, this first night of counting resembles every other night, and is performed immediately following the arvit service.  In the Diaspora, however, the second night of Pesach marks the beginning of Yom Tov Sheni – the second day of Yom Tov observed outside the Land of Israel.  For most Diaspora Jews, the fact that this night is Yom Tov has no bearing on the mitzva of sefirat ha-omer; the counting is performed on this night, as well, immediately following the arvit service.  Chasidim living in chutz la-aretz, however, have the practice of delaying the counting of the omer until after the seder (before nirtza, which, technically speaking, is not part of the actual seder).  This practice is attributed to the Ba'al Shem Tov himself, founder of chasidism (though there are conflicting reports in this regard).

            Halakhically speaking, this practice appears, at first glance, problematic, for several reasons.  Firstly, besides the fact that the performance of mitzvot should not be unnecessarily delayed, Halakha forbids eating a meal or engaging in any other significant activity once the time for a certain mitzva arrives until its performance.  Thus, for example, during Chanukah one may not conduct a meal from the time the obligation of candle lighting takes effect (either sundown or nightfall) until he lights.  Several nights ago, when we fulfilled the mitzva of bedikat chametz (searching for chametz), it was forbidden for us to eat a meal after nightfall until we performed the bedika.  Seemingly, then, it should be forbidden to conduct a seder after dark before performing the mitzva of sefirat ha-omer.  (Indeed, the Rema rules explicitly that one may not eat a meal before sefira – 889:4.)  Secondly, a famous halakhic principle dictates that "tadir ve-she'eino tadir, tadir kodem."  Whenever we have before us two mitzvot to perform, the more frequent mitzva precedes the less frequent mitzva.  So when night falls in chutz la-aretz on the night of the sixteenth of Nissan, and a person becomes obligated in the mitzvot of the seder and of sefirat ha-omer, he should, presumably, first perform sefirat ha-omer, which occurs forty-nine days a year, before the twice-a-year mitzvot of the seder.

            Other objections to this custom have been raised, as well, including the concern that after an entire seder, which obviously includes drinking four cups of wine, one may likely forget to count.  One might argue, however, that since nowadays everyone follows the seder with a Haggada, many of which include sefirat ha-omer after hallel, this concern no longer applies.  Finally, some object to the chassidic custom in light of the ruling of the Shela, cited in several halakhic sources (including the Chok Yaakov, Be'eir Heiteiv, and Siddur of Rav Yaakov Emden), that sefirat ha-omer should preferably be performed together with a congregation.  One should not, therefore, refrain from counting the omer in the synagogue after the arvit service in order to count in the privacy of one's home.

Several explanations have been offered to justify the practice of the chasidim.  Rav Soloveitchik (as cited by Rav Herschel Shachtar in "Mi-pninei Ha-Rav") suggested basing this practice upon the comments of the Sefer Ha-chinukh regarding this mitzva.  Already the Rambam, in Moreh Nevukhim, explained sefirat ha-omer as expressing our eager anticipation and countdown to Shavuot – the commemoration of the receiving of the Torah.  The Sefer Ha-chinukh thus asks, why don’t we start counting on the first night of Pesach?  Shouldn't we begin anticipating Matan Torah immediately following our Exodus from Egypt?  The Chinukh answers that in theory, sefirat ha-omer perhaps should commence on the first night of Pesach, but the Torah wanted us to devote the first night of Pesach entirely to sippur Yetziat Mitzrayim – telling about the Exodus.  Counting the omer, which means looking ahead beyond Yetziat Mitzrayim to the next critical stage – Matan Torah, would diminish our single-minded focus on the Exodus itself, which is what the first night of Pesach is all about.

If we accept this theory, a problem arises in chutz la-aretz on the second night of Pesach, when sefirat ha-omer begins.  If Diaspora Jews must devote the second night of Pesach, as well, to telling and reliving the story of the Exodus, then the obligation of sefirat ha-omer seems to present the same dilemma the Torah avoided by beginning sefira on the second night.  Chasidim sought to avoid this problem by delaying sefirat ha-omer until after the seder, when we no longer involve ourselves in sippur Yetziat Mitzrayim in any event, and thus sefirat ha-omer will not undermine the exclusive attention we must give on this night to the story of the Exodus.

David Silverberg

*****

            Yesterday, we discussed the practice among many chasidim in chutz la-aretz, where Yom Tov is observed for the first two days of Pesach, to delay sefirat ha-omer on the second night of Pesach until after the seder (before nirtza).  We saw several halakhic difficulties with this practice, and cited in the name of Rav Soloveitchik one possible basis for the custom.  Today we present yet another approach Rav Soloveitchik suggested as to the basis for this practice of the chasidim.

            The Ba'al Ha-maor, in his treatment of the laws of sefirat ha-omer (at the end of his work to Masekhet Pesachim), wonders why Halakha permits – and in fact requires – reciting a berakha over sefirat ha-omer on the second night of Pesach in the Diaspora.  A well-known Gemara in Masekhet Sukka (47a) rules that Jews in chutz la-aretz must sit in the sukka on Shemini Atzeret.  Just as Diaspora communities observe two days of Yom Tov to commemorate the fact that, centuries ago, communities outside Israel were unsure of the precise date of Yom Tov and thus observed two days, so must they treat Shemini Atzeret as if it might be the seventh day of Sukkot.  However, the Gemara says, no berakha is recited over the sukka on Shemini Atzeret, because this would create a "tartei de-satrei" – a blatant paradox.  A berakha over the mitzva of sukka means that we treat the day as Sukkot; we cannot do this at the same time as we celebrate Shemini Atzeret.  Diaspora Jews should therefore sit in the sukka, which itself poses no contradiction to the Shemini Atzeret (for people might sit outside in any event – Rosh), but without reciting a berakha.  Similarly, the Ba'al Ha-maor argues, on the second night of Pesach, which in chutz la-aretz is observed as if it were the first night, we should not recite a berakha over sefirat ha-omer.  This berakha identifies this night as the second night of Pesach, and thus inherently contradicts the Yom Tov observances (such as kiddush, matza, marror, "maggid," hallel, etc.).

            The chasidim's practice perhaps emerged as a possible solution to this halakhic anomaly.  On Shemini Atzeret, the problem arises specifically because the berakha over the sukka should be recited at the beginning of the meal, which on Yom Tov means during the recitation of kiddush.  This the Gemara would not allow, as it would appear ludicrous to combine the berakha over sukka with kiddush for Shemini Atzeret.  Had there been some way of separating the two, Chazal would have, indeed, allowed (and required) reciting the berakha over the sukka even on Shemini Atzeret.  Whereas on Shemini Atzeret this is not halakhically feasible, such a possibility does present itself on the second night of Pesach.  By delaying sefirat ha-omer until after the completion of the seder, we can separate this mitzva from the mitzvot of Yom Tov, so that no apparent contradiction arises.

            (It is worth noting, however, that the chasidim famously adopted the practice of eating indoors on Shemini Atzeret, seemingly in violation of the aforementioned ruling of the Gemara in Sukka.  Many different explanations have been suggested for this practice, and Rav Tzadok of Lublin even composed an entire work to justify this practice.)

David Silverberg

*****

            The Shulchan Arukh (O.C. 489:1) rules that sefirat ha-omer is to be conducted following the arvit service, indicating that one should make a point of not counting the omer prior to arvit.  The Beiur Halakha cites the Chok Yaakov (an important work on Hilkhot Pesach by the author of the "Netivot") as explaining this halakha on the basis of the principle we mentioned two days ago – "tadir ve-she'eino tadir, tadir kodem."  Whenever a person has two mitzvot to perform, the more frequent mitzva precedes the less frequent mitzva.  During the sefira period, once night falls, one has an obligation to recite arvit (which fulfills the mitzvot of shema and tefila) as well as the obligation to count the omer.  Since arvit is clearly the more frequent mitzva, it should naturally precede the counting of the omer.

            The Beiur Halakha then cites Rav Yaakov Emden as offering (in his work "Mor U-ktzia") a different reason why we should recite arvit before counting the omer.  He suggests that long ago, congregations would conduct the arvit service before dark.  Since one should not count the omer before dark, they would naturally refrain from counting the omer until after nightfall, which meant after the conclusion of the arvit service.  This approach of Rav Yaakov Emden strongly suggests that strictly speaking, sefirat ha-omer should precede arvit.  Only due to the practice of reciting arvit early did the need arise to delay sefirat ha-omer until after arvit.  Fundamentally, however, one should count the omer before reciting arvit.

            This implication, however, appears to overlook the well-established halakhic principle of "tadir ve-she'eino tadir… "  Why must Rav Yaakov Emden dig so deep to explain the Shulchan Arukh's ruling, that arvit should precede sefirat ha-omer?  Why does he not apply the famous rule of "tadir ve-she'eino tadir" to this case?

            The Beiur Halakha suggests that Rav Yaakov Emden did not apply the "tadir" principle here because the "competing" mitzvot are not on the same level of obligation.  Sefirat ha-omer, at least according to the Rambam, is a Torah obligation even nowadays, after the Temple's destruction.  And even according to the view (which appears to represent the majority opinion) that sefira in the Temple's absence constitutes a rabbinic obligation, it nevertheless has its roots in the Torah obligation of sefirat ha-omer.  Tefila, however, is a rabbinic obligation.  Therefore, perhaps, Rav Yaakov Emden felt that sefirat ha-omer should precede arvit despite the rule of "tadir ve-she'eino tadir."

            This explanation, however, seems very difficult to accept.  As noted in the work "Nimukei Orach Chayim," the Beiur Halakha does not address the mitzva of shema, which we fulfill as part of the arvit service, and which is clearly a Torah obligation.  Moreover, even the mitzva of tefila, according to the Rambam, is Biblical in origin; only the specific format and times were instituted by Chazal.  Seemingly, then, we have no reason to override the "tadir" rule in this case.

            Rav Moshe Feinstein (Iggerot Moshe, O.C. 4:99) raises but immediately dismisses another approach to explain Rav Yaakov Emden's position.  The Mishna Berura (489:2) writes that we count the omer immediately following shemoneh esrei of arvit, even before aleinu, because we must try to perform sefirat ha-omer as early as possible once night falls, due to the concept of "temimut."  The Torah (Vayikra 23:15) requires that we count "seven COMPLETE ['temimot'] weeks."  This concept of "completeness" with respect to sefirat ha-omer has numerous halakhic ramifications, including, the Mishna Berura writes, the halakhic value in counting as soon as the time for sefirat ha-omer arrives.  One makes his counting more "complete" by not allowing any time to pass when he could but does not count the omer.  Perhaps it was this consideration that led Rav Yaakov Emden to conclude that the "tadir" principle would not warrant reciting arvit before counting the omer.  The concern for "tamimut," he felt, overrides the principle of "tadir ve-she'eino tadir."

            As mentioned, however, Rav Moshe immediately dismisses this possibility.  It is inconceivable, Rav Moshe contends, that there exists an outright obligation of "temimut" requiring one to count the omer as soon as possible.  Nowhere do we find that counting later in the night fulfills the obligation only on the level of "be-di'avad" (ex post facto, but not the optimal level of performance).  When the Mishna Berura writes that one should endeavor to count the omer as early as possible because of "temimut," he does not refer to a strict requirement.  Rather, counting early helps remind us and reinforce in our minds the halakhic concept of "temimut" regarding sefirat ha-omer.  But this is undoubtedly not what we would call in halakhic terminology a "din le-khatechila" – an outright requirement.

            Clearly, then, this element of "temimut," by which we are encouraged – though not required – to count as soon after nightfall as we can, cannot possibly override the bona fide, halakhic principle of "tadir ve-she'eino tadir."  Rav Moshe thus leaves this difficulty against Rav Yaakov Emden's position unresolved.

David Silverberg

This shiur is provided courtesy of the Virtual Beit Midrash, the premier source of online courses on Torah and Judaism - 14 different courses on all levels, for all backgrounds.

Make Jewish learning part of your week on a regular basis - enroll in the
Virtual Beit Midrash

(c) Yeshivat Har Etzion2002 All rights reserved to Yeshivat Har Etzion

Yeshivat Har Etzion
Alon Shvut, Israel, 90433
office@etzion.org.il