Melach Razizah, Melach Rapha and Salt Wharf

A few years ago, Talmud Studies professor Pinchas Roth published a paper on an interesting Medeival Hebrew "debate" poem found in a Vatican manuscript already known to contain pre-Expulsion Anglo-Jewish works. The poem was signed by someone named Menachem from "מלח רפפא" (Melach RPPA or Rapha), which Roth suggested to be identified with Salt Wharf in England, given the phonetic similarity between Rapha and Wharf, and the element (pun unintended) 'Salt' which is מלח (Melach) in Hebrew.

I had a speculative thought on Shabbat regarding the decision to translate the name of Salt Wharf into Medieval Anglo-Hebrew as opposed to transliterating the name (as was the case in most other place names in Medieval Jewish texts, and especially those known from Anglo Jewish sources [e.g., London was called לונדרש from the Anglo-Norman Londres]). As we know, while many European town- and city-names were simply transliterated into Hebrew, country names were often given names known from older Jewish sources. The two best-known examples are צרפת (Tzarfat), which is France, but originally referred to a place in the Israel-Sidon border region, and ספרד (Sepharad), which is Spain, but originally referred to some distant place who location is disputed (though some think it was actually in the Iberian peninsula). Another example is כנען (Canaan), which became a name for the Slavic region. Thus, older, traditional and more familiar names were transplanted from Jewish sources and "relocated" in Europe.

It occurred to me that perhaps, for some unknown reason, the Jews of medieval Salt Wharf may have decided to Hebraize the town's name by combining translation, transliteration and transplantation: Taking an older toponym known from Antique Jewish sources and combining it with a partial transliteration and translation of Salt Wharf. What may have been transplanted? The "Baraita de-Techumin" (ברייתא דתחומין) which lists the toponyms that form the boundaries of the Land of Israel mentions in some versions (including the famous Rehov Inscription) a site called מלח רזיזה (Melach Razizah). It's possible that the Anglo Jews had before them a version of this baraita (whether in the Yerushalmi or some other text) that included Melach Razizah and perhaps the name caught their eye and they chose to construct the Hebraized name of Salt Wharf based on the form of Melach Razizah (as opposed to possibilities such as שלטבורפא, שלטרפפא, רפפא מלח [Rapha Melach means Rapha of Salt, which is a better translation/partial transliteration of Salt Wharf]).

Rabbi Yochanan ben Torta

Rabbi Yochanan ben Torta often gets the wrong end of the stick, because of that one argument he had with Rabbi Akiva.

People tend to diss him and write him off because he's mentioned a lot less in Chazalic sources than Rabbi Akiva. What many people tend to forget is that our Mishna was based off of compositions by Rabbi Akiva and his students, with Rebbi - Rabbi Yehudah Ha'nasi being a spiritual successor to Rabbi Akiva's legacy. So it's quite natural that we would find an emphasis on Rabbi Akiva and his teachings in our sources. Undoubtedly, Rabbi Akiva was a giant - but I'm not sure we have any way of measuring other, less-mentioned sages' greatness.

I bring this up because all too often I see reference to Rabbi Yochanan b. Torta and Rabbi Akiva's argument over whether Bar Kochva was the Mashiach or not, with Rabbi Yochanan being regarded a nothingburger of a sage. I made that mistake once, and later came to the above realization and have since greatly regretted what I had uttered at the time. At the end of the day:

a. Rabbi Yochanan b. Torta received smicha and given the title rabbi! And he was a tanna of all things! Not that many people can say they were tannaitic sages (technically neither could he because that term wasn't used in that manner at that time, but you get the point...)?

b. מה לעשות, what can you do? Rabbi Akiva's belief here was wrong. Bar Kochva might have had messianic qualities, but in the end, we haven't yet reached geulah shelemah, the full, final redemption.

A bittersweet end to a mysterious side-quest

A couple of years ago I got interested in a particular Mi Yodeya question concerning the so-called "non-verse" in Selichot, "זכור ה' חיבת ירושלים אהבת ציון אל תשכח לנצח" (link; link to my answer). Yep, most people probably aren't aware of this, because it's nestled among real verses, but this sentence does not appear anywhere in Tanach. You can check out my answer to see the information I gathered at the time. Not long after that I rewrote the answer as a Hebrew essay and published it at my yeshiva's monthly journal.

Since then, every now and then I've tried looking into the topic a teeny bit more. I soon became aware of a paper published in 1906 by Rabbi M. J. Abrahams (here, pp. 109-113) which was the scholarly publication of a leaf from a selichot siddur from 12th century England found in Pembroke College! In that paper, Rabbi Abrahams noted that two leaves had been found, but he had only managed to read one of the leaves, the better preserved, and so did not publish the second one. I was excited to learn that the leaf he published featured a section of text that immediately followed the "זכור verses" section, and figured there was a good chance that the other leaf would feature that verse.

I contacted the Pembroke Library to see whether they had plans to digitize the relevant manuscript. I was told that it was indeed on the waiting list. I was also informed that the second leaf was also part of the same siddur and immediately preceded the first leaf. And so I waited in excitement at the prospect of seeing a rare medieval British version of the זכור verse. Fast forward a couple of years, and Pembroke still hasn't digitized that text (I last checked around Pesach-time). However, a short while I ago it occurred to me that perhaps the National Library of Israel had a microfilm copy of that manuscript. So I checked, and indeed they did have a microfilm of both leaves (!). Before I started planning a time to visit the NLI, I noticed the bibliographical source they mentioned: Not Abrahams, but one Collette Sirat, who had apparently republished the first leaf at least, perhaps both! I quickly found Sirat's paper, and yeah, I was pleased to discover that she had both republished the first leaf with a new suggested reading, published the second leaf, and also printed images of the two leaves!

Unfortunately, that's where my excitement ended. While the second leaf was, indeed, the immediate predecessor, the relevant section would have probably been in the top part of the first leaf, which had been torn many centuries ago (the leaves were found being used as part of the cover of a Latin gloss on Sefer Yesha'ayahu).

So, there's the end of that mystery. Unless the torn part of the first leaf is found, we'll never know what was the version of the זכור verse in that particular siddur.

Minor news

I was happy to receive confirmation today that my Levitical Cities paper has been accepted for review by the editorial board of a second journal. I suppose that stage will take between a couple of weeks to a month, and then I'll be told whether it warrants being sent off for review or not.

What I wish I knew when I had to lead a seder (twice!)

When I was in the military rabbinate in hesder, I had to stay on the base for the first chag of Pesach, and again the year after because by then I was officially a non-combat hesder student and such students have to lead Pesach seders in bases around Israel. As a yeshiva student and as a member of the rabbinate corps, it was drilled into me that we had to come up with inspiring divrei torah that could potentially change the minds of the rest of the seder attendees (most of them non-religious Jews). It wasn't that we were supposed to convince them to do teshuva, it was more that the seder had a potential to be a memorable experience and it was up to us to make it so.

However, what I was not told - perhaps because no one in the largely dati/torani rabbinate corps was aware of this - was that many non-religious/traditional families in Israel conduct the seder in...well, I don't know how to really say this, but perhaps...an old-fashioned way? What I mean is that there aren't deep, convoluted divrei torah/speeches. What many families do is just read the haggadah, sing the songs together, and that's it. The seder is short, but sweet. A good old traditional seder. Sometimes they take turns reading different parts of the haggadah. And they get to the meal fast (!).

That was something I was sadly unaware of for two years in a row. I am a shy person, so naturally even the divrei torah I prepared weren't given over with much charisma (especially the second year, when I was put in a completely different unit just for the first chag). We didn't do much turn-taking during reading. So, sedarim at the army aren't particularly memorable occasions for me.* They were both pretty much flops.

What's the moral? If you're heading off to the rabbinate corps, do some background research on non-religious soldiers. Trust me, it'll be helpful, and not just for Pesach.

*However, I do have a somewhat fond memory of the on-duty base commander the second year, who was a Druze officer. IDF rules dictated that he had to attend the seder even though he wasn't Jewish. Poor guy was so bored he was skimming his phone most of the meal.

Run-down

Run-down of some things going on with me:

1. I made the honor roll. Well, actually I found out a couple of months ago, but received a official letter earlier this week. It's a nice feeling of some accomplishment.

2. I decided that my next writing side-project would be updating a paper I wrote for yeshiva last year on two forms of Arabian avodah Zara that appear in the gemara. So one thing led to another and I discovered what may be a relevant source in Midrash Aggadah, a possibly 12th-13th century midrashic compilation first published by Shlomo Buber in the 19th century. The source states that the form of idolatry Yishmael practiced involved raising a brick and kissing it, and that Hagar did this as well.

Largely until now, only one copy of Midrash Aggadah has been known to the world. However, I lucked out and found what appears to be a second copy of MA on Beresheet. It wasn't a completely original discovery because it was thus noted on the microfilm's catalog card, but the NLI website mistakenly did not call it so.

And then I made another interesting discovery: The Ramak, Rabbi Moshe Cordovero, also references Yishmael worshiping a brick (but not kissing it)!

That begs the question: Did the Ramak base himself on MA or another source? And where did MA get this idea?

3. I was offered the chance to be an assistant area head once again in our excavations at Tel Tibneh, which is an exciting opportunity. Last year I mooned for only half a season, this time I'll be the entire time (three weeks) (hopefully things will work out with the war and all of that).

4. I'm still trying to make up for last time from when I was in the army, cramming in homework together with a bajillion other things. It's tough.

Huge news!!

Three days ago my paper on Rabbi Elazar ben Arach was accepted for publication!

Technically speaking, this is the second time something I've written has been accepted for publication. The first time was for the NLI's history blog, but then a few days later they changed their minds and it was rejected. But either way, this is the first time one of my academic papers has been accepted for an academic journal. It's very exciting.

I don't know when it'll be published. Probably the upcoming June issue or the one after that, the December issue.