Amen and amen: blessings of a heretic (like me).

WE WHO OBSERVE JEWISH LAW OFTEN WANT TO KNOW what the Halakha is. No less, we ought to ask what the Halakha means. We should consider not only the rules and principles that underlie a given legal decision, but also the phenomenology of adhering to that ruling, and what attitudes it conveys. When determining how to pray, how to give tzedaka, or what food to eat, Halakhic methods are qualitative as well as quantitative. Halakhists never merely add up the list of texts and rabbis that point one way, add up the list of those pointing the other way, and conclude neatly that the law follows the majority. (1) Along the way, there are and should be myriad evaluative judgments about what the hour demands, what is the most ethical course, which texts and teachers are authoritative, which precedents are apposite and which are irrelevant. Inescapably, this involves choosing to accent some features of the Torah tradition and to mute others, to say that one thing is essential and another peripheral. A posek (Halakhic deci sor) rarely finds the answer to a hard question spelled out in block letters in an old tome, and rarely uses arithmetic to calculate what in the textual tradition carries the most authority. Rather, every ruling represents a Halakhic expert's construction of what it means to be a religious Jew. (2)

Studying Halakha with this consciousness--reading for meaning as well as for guidance in normative living--permits us to see what an art it is to build Jewish life from the Torah. But while each normative decision may manifest a profound and subtle Judaic vision, it is rarely the only one possible. Almost always, there are alternatives, which we reveal when we seek out the many voices of rabbinic discourse. This array of alternatives does not mean that legal rulings are arbitrary or subjective without mooring. In fact, the greater the sage, the more he or she will craft a vision of Jewish life based upon learning and wisdom. (3) But we must own up to the fact that poskim are not God's mechanical mouthpieces; and that Halakhic rulings reflect their authors' particular articulations of the meaning of Jewish life. Alternative visions and revisions are entirely possible.

In this essay I examine the laws of saying amen to blessings in order to explore how certain legal decisions construct Judaic meaning. On a basic level, amenis one person's affirmation that he or she believes what another has just said. If one person praises God "who clothes the naked," then another responds by saying: amen! Yes, indeed. I believe that too. Thus, amen has a paideic effect; it inculcates the theological professions we should make. For petitionary prayer, amen carries the further valence that the one who hears also wishes for what the one who blessed sought. If one prays, blessed is God who heals the sick, then those who respond amen add their prayer, too, that God heal the suffering. (4) Thus, amen has the socially binding effect of prompting our fellow Jews to pray along with us that our needs and desires be fulfilled. Furthermore, in Halakhic terms, responding amen is the action that enables one to fulfill one's obligation through another's blessing, with exactly the same completeness as if one said it one's self.

If we penetrate deeper into the law on saying amen, we discover that this response also constitutes a transformation in which an individual's blessing becomes a social act in which the Jewish community participates. All alone, Jews may recite private blessings, and fulfill a limited measure of their religious duties. But according to a number of Halakhic and Aggadic sources, only when another human being responds with the affirmation amen, can the act of blessing truly reach its fulfillment. Thus, amen constitutes the sociality of blessing.

For example, one who recites the prayer over bread must not begin eating "until amen has been completed in the mouths of the responders." (5) Rashi explains this rule with the following comment: "For answering amen is part of the blessing." The thirteenth-century Talmudist R. Yom Toy of Seville (Ritba) comments similarly: "As long as they are still answering amen, the blessing has not concluded." According to these rulings, the blessing is not one religious act and amen a separate one. Rather, they form an integrated whole. And for complete fulfillment, this ritual act needs both partners. That is, a blessing needs Jewish society.

This religious vision is expressed most boldly by R. Isaac of Vienna, author of the thirteenth-century code Or Zarua, based in turn on the Jerusalem Talmud. (6) The Or Zarua writes that-even with one's mouth full in the middle of a meal-one must respond amen: "It is impossible not to respond amen. For if he [the hearer] did not respond amen, neither one will discharge his obligation." That is to say, even one who holds an apple, recites "Blessed are You, God, Master of the cosmos, who creates the fruit of the tree," and then takes a bite, would not have properly recited the blessing if another Jew did not affirm her blessing with amen. (7) With these Halakhic rulings, it seems to me, these rabbis teach us to socialize a blessing through the response of amen. Through amen, we transform an individual act of worship to a communal one.

Turning from law to lore, the Sages praised the amen response extravagantly. An energetic amen is said to open the gates of paradise, to ease the suffering of the wicked in Gehennom, and to win for children a place in the world to come. (8) "Nothing is greater to the Blessed Holy One than amen, "says the Midrash. (9) Perhaps the best-known-and most puzzling--example of the Sages' enthusiasm for amen is R. Yose's teaching: "Greater is the one who responds amen than the one who blesses." (10)

What could make the responder religiously superior to the one who recites the blessing? The one who blesses initiates the ritual; he articulates the praise of God actively; intuitively it seems that she takes the leadership of the public ritual of blessing. Why is the follower deemed greater than the leader?

This superiority of the responder flows directly from the fact that amen is what gives blessings their social dimension. The rabbinic visions of blessings and amens is expressed by the verse (Proverbs 14.28): the King's glory is in the multitude of the nation. More awesome than 75 people saying 75 blessings, is when one person invokes God, and a throng answers: Yes/Within this crowded amen, all who respond join in a single, corporate religious act. They become a unit of blessing. (11)

R. Bahye of Saragossa, the thirteenth-century Bible commentator and Kabbalist (12) expresses this idea of amen as the sociality of blessing with reference to the two witnesses that make any legal proceeding effective: "The one who blesses testifies that the Blessed Holy One is the source of blessing. But the one who responds amen authenticates the document, and he is the critical one. For no testimony is valid with only one witness ... and the one who responds amen is the second witness. ... With him, the testimony is valid." (13)

For R. Bahye, one who blesses when alone has the effect of one who testifies when all alone: his statement is factually accurate but meaningless in the human community. Now, one cannot over-apply this aggadic point; if you find yourself all alone, you still can eat and say the appropriate blessing. However, the strength of his rhetoric drives home that for R. Bahye, responding amen is the way that a society can officially endorse an act of worship, give it status and heft. For one human being all alone cannot make true a blessing. We need partners.

The question is, however, who will be our partners? With whom can we share an amen? Among the most significant modern sources on the social dimension of blessing is Rabbi Moshe Feinstein's ruling that blessings said by Conservative or Reform rabbis are no blessings at all, that they fulfill no obligations, neither of those who say them nor those who hear them, and that those who hear them should not respond amen. Since I am a Conservative rabbi, heterodox in many ways, I take this ruling in the spirit with which R. Moshe intended it: as an assault. Thus, I will attempt to answer respectfully the arguments of this illustrious figure. Many Halakhic Jews will find it impudent to disagree with perhaps the leading ultra-orthodox Ashkenazi posek of the last 50 years. But because this matter is of great importance for our hopes to live together as Jews, I do not wish to leave R. Feinstein's condemnation unanswered.

I wish to make one methodological caveat: when speaking of the religious visions manifest in decisions, I make no claim to having identified the original author's specific intent, after the fashion of positivist historians. This caveat is especially important when speaking of classical Rabbinic texts, so distant from us in time and place, and so open to aggressive projection by interpreters. Rather, I intend to portray a phenomenology of religious life--in other words, what would be one's religious ethos if one lived Out a given Halakha--that appears implicit in these decisions. This argument will falter or stand based on my readings of that phenomenology.

By analyzing his legal choices, I hope to show that this ruling is a creative fashioning of Judaic meaning by a particular rabbi, seeking to guide a particular community toward his own vision of what it means to be a committed jew. But his ruling is by no means the simple dictate of what the Halakha is, apart from his construction of it. Actually, his ruling ignores a number of authoritative sources which would guide communities toward more tolerant and loving Halakhic behavior. These sources differ from R. Moshe not only in the details of their conclusions, but more importantly in the conceptual approaches their conclusions manifest. In these approaches to the laws of saying amen, I believe we will discover the grounds for a different construction of Halakhic meaning, one more suited to harmonious, respectful Jewish communal pluralism.

Orthodox observers (even at their most liberal) commonly fault Conservative Halakha for tendentiously rummaging through the tradition for precedents to ground its innovations. (14) Instead, they say, proper Halakhic methodology demands submitting to the cumulative decision-making weight over time, especially as it is invested in the authoritative "judges in your day," the great poskim. One should not seize upon an opinion that the Jewish world rejected 1,000 years ago and call that responsible Halakhic decision-making. This critique is not without some power; in some ways, faithfulness to the Halakhic system should privilege the outcomes that have evolved through its history.

Yet this approach to Halakha too hastily dismisses the creative vigor and potential for renewal that inhere in the Jewish legal tradition. If the primary goal of Halakha is to adhere to older, presumptively better practices, then only the resort to established authority will do. If Halakha is a forge of Jewish meaning, however, then revisiting legal sources with new eyes--open to alternative voices and alternative constructions of Jewish meaning--is a great boon to religious creativity. (15) Indeed, the Mishnaic sages encoded this very methodology when they ruled (Eduyot 1.5) that minority opinions be preserved alongside the majority views, so that later sages can re-evaluate old questions, and discover why the earlier rejected view just might turn out to prevail under different circumstances. To say this another way, while the inherently conservative methodology of traditional Halakha can preserve an orthodoxy of what the texts must mean, Conservative methodology offers new vantages on what our texts might m ean. I hope my analysis of the laws of saying amen illustrates this approach, and the ways I believe Conservative Halakha can be a resource in making meaning of Jewish life.

R. Feinstein's 1960 responsum (Iggerot Moshe, Orah Hayim, vol. 2, #50) concerns an Orthodox rabbi who was "compelled" to organize a fundraising banquet for Israel and invite Reform and Conservative rabbis, and even to honor them by asking them to say the opening or closing blessings at the meal. Is it permissible to honor them in this way? If they bless the food, does this fulfill the guests' obligation to recite the proper berakha?

Absolutely not, R. Moshe ruled. Non-Orthodox rabbis cannot participate in religious life, he holds, because they do not acknowledge God. Even if they recite the prayers correctly, even if their mouths pronounce the name Adonay, they mean nothing sacred by it. They might as well say bowling balls or lollypop for all the religious content they bring to their blessings:

In my humble opinion, it seems clear that even if he [the non-Orthodox rabbi] were to say the blessing properly and without interruption between blessing and eating, since he denies God and His Torah, like most of their "rabbis," (16) the mention of God's name to him is like an ordinary word. [This name] does not refer to God, may He be blessed! ... Rather, it is as if it never mentioned God's name. And it is as if he never mentioned God's dominion, for he does not consider God to be the King of the Universe. (17) [This person's blessing] is mere chattering.... Thus there is a prohibition to honor these heretical "rabbis" (18) who recite the motzi, even if they bless in accordance with the law. For their blessing is not considered a blessing, and they do not discharge the obligations for those who hear them recite. And there is no need to respond amen to his blessing.

R. Moshe extended this responsum in 1965, forbidding calling Conservative or Reform rabbis to the Torah when they visit Orthodox synagogues. "Their blessings are nothing, and one should not respond amen. ... Since they are deniers, mentioning the divine name is mere words to them." Even honors like lifting and wrapping the Torah are forbidden, "since one should not honor deniers with the very things they deny. That violates the prohibition against obsequiousness." (19)

An important premise of R. Feinstein's argument is its theological standard; that is, he thinks the worst thing about the heterodox is their beliefs. Even when they appear to uphold religious traditions, in their hearts, heterodox rabbis, he claims, do not reverence the name of God they pretend to bless. Their behavior testifies to their heresy, specifically their denial of God's Torah and its authoritative interpretive tradition, he insists. No one can claim to reverence God if they reject His teaching. (20) This strategy is remarkable, since there is a long list of other practices by virtue of which R. Feinstein could have excluded most non-Orthodox rabbis from his community. He could have attacked their Shabbat- or kashrut- or niddah-observance, any of which might exclude them from public honor. (21) Such an argument would have the merit of conforming to the usual Halakhic focus on the quantifiable, the public, and the general, rather than on the invisible things which vary from one individual heart to ano ther. (22)

Instead he invalidates Reform and Conservative rabbis based on assumptions about our inner lives, which he cannot know. R. Moshe's determination-that "the mention of God's name to [the non-Orthodox] is like an ordinary word, which does not refer to God"--may be the worst insult I have ever endured. I understand that Orthodox authorities claim to possess the exclusive authentic interpretation of Judaism. Does R. Feinstein possess the exclusive interpretation of the words of prayer that come from my mouth? Does he claim that non-Orthodox rabbis like Abraham Joshua Heschel and Leo Baeck intended "mere chattering" when they invoked God's name? Every Jew should banish the notion that their inter-religious opponents are "excommunicated by heaven." (23) R. Moshe's claim is eerily similar to that of Christian fundamentalists (made notoriously in 1981 by Bailey Smith, then president of the Southern Baptist Convention) that God does not hear Jewish prayers, since the Jews rejected Jesus. Bailey Smith claims: If God sen ds a redeemer and you reject him, you can have no relationship with God. R. Moshe Feinstein claims: If God sends a teaching and you reject it, you can have no relationship with God.

This theological rhetoric indicates how creative and far-reaching R. Feinstein's argument is. By attacking the standing of Conservative and Reform Rabbis before God, R. Moshe precludes all other questions of their religious fitness. Whatever else they observe or violate, whatever merit their arguments might have, these rabbis are defined as totally God-less. To state this in more technical language, R. Moshe identifies Conservative and Reform rabbis as Apikorsim or heretics. (24) Numerous times in his writings, R. Feinstein condemns heterodox Jews and their Judaism, with little equivocation, if any. (25) Using the term apikoros, this responsum is a prime example of his vituperation. The 1965 responsum mentioned above is even more charged: "These 'rabbis' are literally deniers and willful apostates-to-provoke, and inciters, and those who lead astray." (26) What are the implications of defining heterodoxm Jews as Apikorsim? It might mean that such a Jew cannot be accepted as a penitent. (27) It might mean that observant Jews are forbidden from saving their lives, and are encouraged to kill them. (28) It may be summed up by Maimonides' statement in his Mishna Commentary that "if one doubts any of these" 13 dogmas of Judaism, "this person has ceased to be part of the collective, and denies God . . . and it is an obligation to hate him and to destroy him. About this person, it is said (Psalms 139.21): I hate your enemies, O God." (29) This indeed is what R. Feinstein seeks to affirm: heterodox Jews are God's enemies, and have left the collective of Israel.

I am unaware of any subsequent Orthodox authorities who have issued formal opinions contradicting R. Feinstein on this issue. A significant number have taken similar approaches, ruling that any positive contributions of Conservative or Reform rabbis are nullified by their heretical associations. (30) But must Halakha be interpreted this way? Poskim in previous generations have taken other routes.

R. Jacob Ettlinger, of Altoona, Germany was one of the first authorities to seek some accommodation with modernizing, less observant Jews in the middle of the nineteenth century. (31) In an often-cited 1860 responsum, ruling on whether a Sabbath-desecrating Jew can testify as a witness, R. Ettlinger considers the problem of non-observant Jews engaging in ritual behavior. In contrast to R. Feinstein's denying the value of a heterodox Jew's observance, R. Ettlinger regards a non-Orthodox Jew's ritual behavior as sufficient evidence that he or she remains within the camp, albeit while displaying sinful behavior.

As to the Jewish sinners of our day, I do not know how to judge them, since, due to our manifold sins, the leprous sore has spread to the majority, such that a majority think it is permitted [to desecrate the Sabbath].... But there are some who pray the Sabbath prayers and recite the Kiddush and then go desecrate the Sabbath by doing work that is forbidden by the Torah and by rabbinic enactment. One who desecrates the Sabbath is considered a heretic only because one who denies the Sabbath denies the creation and the Creator. Yet this person acknowledges God through his prayer and kiddush! (32)

R. Ettlinger here insists that Sabbath violations, while reprehensible, do not invalidate any other prayer that a non-observant Jew might make. The reason Sabbath violation was traditionally grounds for expulsion from the Jewish people, he states, is because Sabbath violation was an unmistakable sign of denying God's hand in the world. But in his time, R. Ettlinger argues, there is more than one way to interpret Halakhically forbidden behavior. One can be a grievous sinner, in Halakhic terms, and yet relate to God through religious observance. This is precisely what R. Feinstein denies: he mistrusts the religious bona fides of the non-Orthodox and tries to deny them God, even when they invoke God's name. (33) But R. Ettlinger believes that a Jew who takes a full cup of blessing on Friday night in memorial of the work of creation, in memorial of the Exodus, and thanks God who creates the fruit of the grapevine and who sanctifies the Sabbath--this Jew testifies to his or her faith! In constructing Jewish meanin g, I propose that we follow R. Ettlinger, and do not deny the authenticity of religious devotion, though we may oppose its specific forms.

Moving from R. Feinstein's premises to his argument, we see that he derives his conclusion from a creative adaptation of one law to a new context. Based primarily on B. Shabbat 116a, R. Moshe notes that when a heretic writes the name of God in a Torah scroll it should be burned without regard to the destruction of the divine names within. Ordinarily, of course, it is forbidden to destroy something upon which the name of God is written. But when a heretic wrote the name, this prohibition does not apply. (34) R. Feinstein understands this passage to mean that in such a case, even though the letters of the divine name written by a heretic looklike the name of God, they are "mere words," not God's name at all. He extrapolates this law to our case, saying that a divine name spoken by a heretic is equally profane.

One cannot help but admire the ingenuity of this claim. After all, there is no mention in the sources he cites of the topic of blessings and their efficacy in fulfilling obligations. Apparently lacking any more apposite evidence, R. Feinstein has taken a law from one context--the fitness of scribes--and applied it to a new religious problem in his community. To the best of my knowledge, this maneuver is novel to R. Feinstein, created by dint of his own synthetic imagination. (35)

A remarkable implication of his argument bears examination. By stating, that "even if he [the non-Orthodox rabbi] were to say the blessing properly" the blessing would still be invalid, discharging neither that person's own obligation nor that of any hearer, R. Feinstein effectively bars any non-Orthodox person from ever fulfilling his or her religious duties. When a person completely lacks the avenue for fulfilling a mitzvah, that person effectively is exempted from the responsibility for this requirement. (36) Women are not obligated in circumcision, the arm-less are not obligated to wear the tefillin shel yad, New Yorkers are not obligated for commandments dependent on residence in the Land of Israel. And for R. Moshe, non-Orthodox Jews are exempted from blessings, by hypothesis. Ironically, then, the giant of ultra-Orthodox Judaism, R. Moshe Feinstein, gives Reform and Reconstructionist Jews what they have always wanted, and what I as a Conservative Jew wish to oppose: a blanket exemption from Halakhic ri tual duties, and a concession that Halakha has no claim on their behavior. Is he not troubled by the thought of consigning millions of Jews to Halakhic internal exile? Does he not regard them as obligated to recite these blessings? Indeed, he does not, in keeping with his general approach to non-Orthodox Jews. With this ruling, R. Moshe asserts that heterodox rabbis are Apikorsim, like idolators in every respect, and cease to be members of the community of Israel. Thus, for the community of his followers, the key religious experience of following R. Moshe Feinstein's Halakhic ruling is to assert that non-Orthodox rabbis are more than erring. They are no longer Jews in any meaningful sense.

But it is not only what R. Moshe says that makes his analysis so creative and daring. What he omits is even more fascinating. R. Feinstein never once mentions the legal source that speaks most directly to the problem of heretics' blessings. Following Maimonides (Blessings 1.13), R. Yosef Karo rules (Skulhan Arukh Orack Hayim 215.2):

One who hears a Jew recite any of the blessings-even though he did not hear the entire blessing from beginning to end, even though he is not required to say this blessing himself-must respond amen. But if the one who recites the blessing is an Apikoros or a Samaritan or a minor [who is merely practicing] or an adult who alters the fixed form of the blessing, one does not respond amen.

To this R. Moshe Isserles adds: "One responds amen to an idolator if one heard the entire blessing from his mouth." These teachings are based on Mishna Berakhot 8.8, the Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmuds ad loc, and Tosefta Berakhot 3.26 and 5.21.

Given R. Moshe's legendary erudition, the recurrence of this topic in the Mishna, both Talmudim and Tosefta, and the relative prominence of this source in all the codes, it is all but unthinkable that he simply forgot an obvious rule that at first glance seems to prove his case. Indeed, this Halakha at first glance seems far more effective for rejecting the blessings of heretics than the creative extrapolation R. Feinstein contrived. In context, it appears clear that the Shulhan Arukh prohibits saying amen because any blessing by a Samaritan or heretic is a berakha levatala, a blessing in vain. (37) An "Apikoros rabbi" like me would be ex hypothesi an unacceptable participant in a communal HaMotzi for the UJA dinner. This is exactly what R. Moshe wishes to prove! Why does he not cite this law and be done with it?

A review of the Talmudic sources and the commentary traditions suggests that R. Feinstein ignored these texts because they open the possibility of affirming heterodox Jews as part of communal religious life, instead of mandating that they be shunned. Only at first glance does the Shulhan Arukh's ruling seem rigid and univocal. In fact, a nuanced reading of this law, its Talmudic sources, and the interpretations of medieval and modern authorities, would ground a tolerant and inclusive stance. I propose to examine this alternative vision, and build a living Halakhic pluralism upon this base.

Let us begin with the Mishna: "One responds amen to a Jew who blesses; but one does not respond amen to a Samaritan (kuti) who blesses, unless one hears the entire blessing." (38) It would appear obvious from the plain meaning of the Mishna that the reason to refrain from answering a Samaritan's (39) blessing is that this person, whose Jewish bona fides are in question, might be worshipping idols. Amen, after all, is a religious affirmation by the witness to a religious act that says, in effect: yes indeed! I have faith that what you've said is true! May it come to pass! (40)

If we observe a Samaritan mumbling something in prayer or at the table, it only makes sense to refrain from answering amen until one knows exactly what he or she is affirming. What if the Samaritan had blessed the dove of MT. Gerizim, their traditional idolatry? (41) Alternatively, one might suspect that a Samaritan would alter the statutory form of blessing, to which rabbinic law regards him as still bound. However, the Mishna states that once we ascertain that the Samaritan recited a blessing properly, it is proper to respond amen. But if one notices a trustworthy Jew mumbling a blessing, even if one has heard only a minimum of the blessing, (42) one ought to respond amen.

To illustrate the classical Sages' approach to Samaritans, we might apply this Mishna to a contemporary hypothetical case: one's neighbor, a wonderful, dear woman, is a "Jew-for-Jesus," rah 'mana litzlan. For the sake of good will, one might want to say amen when she recites blessings. But one should do so only once one verifies what she is blessing. What if she were to bless with all her heart and say: May God redeem us and once again send Jesus, His only begotten Son, King of the Jews and the Messiah son of David? I cannot imagine any Jew responding amen under any circumstances.

But what if she were to say: Blessed are You, God, Master of the Cosmos, Who brings forth bread from the earth, and then eat a kosher sandwich? On the basis of our Mishna, I cannot see how one would refrain from answering amen. Here, the person whose usual practice of Judaism is anathema to us, nevertheless said a proper--and obligatory!--blessing of God. It behooves us to affirm that this HaMotzi is legitimate praise of God. Rambam wrote that Jews always should meet praise of God with their endorsement: "Whoever hears a blessing must answer amen ... because he expansively praises, glorifies and exalts this mighty, awesome name. And one should never mention nor hear the mention of the name without adding praise or responding amen to one who exalts God." (43)

Once I have ascertained that this woman's blessing expresses nothing but admirable religious intentions, how could I rob God of my whole-hearted amen? Did God cease to be the one who "brings forth bread," just because a religious deviant said so? This is further illuminated by the Jerusalem Talmud and Tosefta: "A gentile who blesses with the divine name--one responds amen. A Samaritan who blesses with the divine name--one does not respond amen until one hears the entire blessing." (44)

Although there are variations among the textual witnesses to these passages, the basic idea of all the versions is that a Jew should respond amen whenever someone blesses God, as long as this person is not reciting an improper blessing. Since a gentile is obligated by neither the Sages' formulas for blessings, nor the Torah's command not to take God's name in vain, then a Jew may affirm any praise this gentile offers. Since a Samaritan is obligated in the laws of blessing and of the sanctity of the divine name, one must take care to affirm a Samaritan's blessing when it follows the proper protocol.

An important component of Halakhic analysis should be to articulate the meaning any given law would impart to the lives of those who practice it. What is most interesting about this anonymous Tannaitic teaching is what it implies about how to live in the human religious community. One might reasonably expect Rabbinic law to raise high walls between faithful Jews and non-Jews, or between faithful Jews and deviant Jews. This is what R. Moshe Feinstein believed, and this is the Jewish meaning he sought to build through his legal rulings: "The essence of the rule is that one must distance one's self in whatever way possible from those Conservatives.... There is no difference between them and all kinds of deniers. They grow worse day by day." (45)

Remarkably enough, this is not what our Sages believed. Through their legal ruling they promulgate a Judaism in which Jews can join gentiles as well as deviant Jews in common praise of God. To be sure, the rabbis would not respond amen if a gentile were to drink a libation to Mars. But when gentiles offer praise to the One Parent of us all, to the Creator of heaven and earth, to the God who brings rain that makes the hills sprout with grass-it is a religious duty to affirm that praise by saying amen. To the extent that one would refrain from joining a heterodox Jew's blessing, the grounds are only substantive questions of the text of the blessing, and have nothing whatsoever to do with the beliefs or character of the person who recites it.

Furthermore, consider what this Halakha implies about God. The Sages obligate us to join the widest possible community of God's children in praise. The Master of the Cosmos is not chthonic, and Judaism cannot slouch toward henotheism, the belief that divinity is linked to a specific place and people. We assert that God loves the Jewish people; but does God not love the gentiles and Samaritans? The prophet Amos (9.7) reminds us that, like us, the Ethiopians, Philistines, and Arameans have roles in God's plan. According to this law, God wants the deep religious act of participating with them-where possible-in worship. When they do not share our convictions, this is impossible. But when we and they share a common love and awe for God, we augment the sanctity of the world in glorifying God among the multitudes of peoples.

R. Feinstein pronounces a class of people, non-Orthodox Jews, as unfit partners in any form of religious life. Finding it impossible to affirm the heterodox, R. Feinstein denied even the religious impulse in their blessings. In contrast, the Tannaitic Sages manifest an impulse to communal tolerance, in line with a theological impulse to widen the circle of divine praise. Samaritans, Karaites, and other heterodox Jews may not be able to davven with Jews who maintain Orthodox verities. Nonetheless, this need not mean we share no stake in worshipping God together. On the contrary, when we can proclaim together that God "brings bread from the earth," and "sustains all in His goodness, grace and mercy," when we hold in common that God "sanctifies the Sabbath," or "forms light and creates darkness," when we dream that "His great name be blessed from now until eternity," the Sages find room for the deviant. The Talmudic Sages include; R. Moshe would banish.

The wording in rabbinic texts often changed as it passed from Medieval copyist to copyist to early modern printer. In our case, in standard printed editions of the Mishnek Torah (Laws of Blessings 1.13), Maimonides rules that one never responds amen to blessings said in vain, including those said by gentiles, Apikorsim and Samaritans. This ruling--and its repetition in R. Yosef Karo's Shulkan Arukh--articulates the kind of rigidity against religious deviance that would appeal to R. Moshe. Since R. Feinstein sought a basis for forbidding the blessing of heretics, why not cite this unforgiving ruling? Rejecting the Jerusalem Talmud and Tosefta's more liberal stance, Rambam appears to have preserved strong walls between Jewish religious life and gentiles and other religious deviants.

However, other medievals, like R. Jacob b. Asher, author of the Turim, possessed an apparently more authentic and more liberal edition of Maimonides that omitted gentiles from this list of banned blessers. (46) And if he accepted that one should respond to a non-Jew's blessing, surely he also accepted the same text's ruling that one also should respond to a Samaritan who says a blessing in proper form. After all, this rule is encoded in the Mishna! Could Maimonides have ruled against both a Mishna and a Braita with no other text for support? (47) R. Elijah, the Gaon of Vilna, could explain the Rambam's strange ruling only as a scribal error: "These words [of R Yosef Karo] indicate that one should not respond amen to a Samaritan, even if one heard the entire blessing. All this is simply astonishing! It seems to me necessary to conclude that there is a scribal error in Rambam. For the law is perfectly clear that one responds a men when one hears the entire blessing from a Samaritan and even part of a blessing from an on Jew. But the ruling of Rambam in our variations simply cannot be explained." (48)

In other words, the Vilna Gaon rejects the view that Jews should boycott the blessings of Jew, Samaritan, or gentile, if the blessing itself is said properly. He firmly shares the outlook of the classical Sages that fringe groups and religious deviants are to be affirmed when they act in religiously sanctioned ways.

Another later sage who shared the Gaon's approach was R. Yom Toy Lipman Heller, commonly known by the title of his major work, the Tosafot Yom Toy. His brief explanation for why one should respond amen to the complete blessing of a Samaritan or non-Jew is resonant with religious meaning, and it bears examination: "Since one hears that this [Samaritan] has blessed God upon this item-even though he does not even know what God is, for he thinks that his idol is the Creator!-nonetheless, since his intention was toward God, and we hear the entire blessing from his mouth, we respond amen." (49)

In far-reaching language, R. Heller holds that theological precision is not required for a sanctioned blessing. One need not subscribe to orthodoxies- proper beliefs-in order to pray to God. Rather, one needs a proper act of will, of intention to reach God. Though his theological conceptions may be quite off-the-mark by our measures, according to the Tosafot Yom Tov it is the Samaritan's desire for religious wholeness-plus a properly phrased, non-idolatrous blessing-that enables us, as Jews, to affirm his blessing. There is theological humility and generosity of spirit in this ruling of R. Heller. As with the Sages, his Jewish meaning does not demand the high bar of theological purity that R. Feinstein sought to erect. Rather, through the religious act of saying amen, the Tosafot Yom Toy embraced a wide range of human beings who direct their prayer to God.

It appears clear to me that R. Moshe Feinstein did not forget this ruling as it appears in the Shulhan Arukh and in the Mishnek Torah. I surmise he omitted the ruling because he knew full well that classical sources, early and later commentators understood this passage to imply wide possibilities for OrthodoxJews to affirm the blessings of heterodox Jews. And I believe he chose to ignore this source because he preferred to construct a different Jewish meaning. R. Moshe fundamentally rejected the religious world view implied in the classical texts we've seen, and in the rabbis like R Elijah of Vilna and R. Yom Tom Lipman Heller who interpreted them. In place of their implicit willingness to include the heterodox and gentile in divine worship-at least within Halakhic boundaries-he substitutes an ethos of keeping far from potential pollution of Conservative and Reform Jews. But it is the broad religious ethos of the Talmud and the Tosafot Yom Toy which should compel us today, not the narrow one of R. Feinstein.

My concern that Orthodox Jews respond amen to my blessings is not to satisfy a personal need for their approval. Rather, I care about their amen because of what a silent boycott would mean in the religious system manifest in these laws. Every legal ruling constitutes an attempt both to determine Jewish practice and also to construct meaningful Jewish life and religious reflection. Viewed through this lens, what disturbs me is R. Moshe's creative but unendurable argument that the alienation between Orthodox Jews and heterodox Jews is so great that we no longer inhabit the same religious society. We heterodox and Orthodox Jews are so distant, he claims, that the door through which we might join in acts of common worship-saying amen-is padlocked in our faces.

Fortunately, as I have shown, ancient, medieval, and modern rabbinic teachings do not share R. Feinstein's ideological program. Invoking several important Halakhic and Aggadic sources on amen, I articulated a model for Jewish practice that permits fidelity to the legal tradition, creative reading of canonical source material, independence for Jews to practice as they responsibly determine, yet commitment to the mutual love and respect that will enable us to share some kinds of worship. We may not be able to davven together in synagogue. But we can join to bless over food, over dwelling in Sukkot, over kindling Hannuka lamps. We can study together. We can say kaddish together. And we can share loving, supportive amens, praying that one another's petitions come true, adding our voices to each other's grateful thanksgivings.

As our communal tethers grow shorter and frayed, it is imperative to explore our methods for evaluating inter-denominational practice. I believe we need the kind of Halakhically grounded pluralism I have presented. I seek to persuade observant Jews not to shrug and say, well, much as I might like to come to rapprochement with other types of Jews, Halakha forbids it. On the contrary, the Halakhic tradition points toward several roads not yet taken in our struggles to learn to live with each other. Healthy pluralism will not be attained simply with a Rodney King plea: Can't we just all get along? We will merit communal harmony when we articulate Jewish ways of living that are profound and authentic, coming from within our Torah tradition and building toward shared contemporary meaning.

NOTES

(1.) While "decide by the majority" is an important (and Torah-mandated) methodology, sometimes exceptions are invoked. For instance, see B. Yevamot 14b: "We follow the majority where both sides are equally sharp. But here Bet Shammai are sharper."

(2.) On this theme, I owe an overwhelming debt to the late legal theorist, Robert Cover, who showed how laws arc tools to inscribe meaning upon the life, and who urged legal civilizations to prize vitality of meaning over orderliness. Many of his most important essays can be found in Narrative, Violence, and the Law: The Essays of Robert Cover, edited by Martha Minow, Michael Ryan, and Austin Sarat(Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1992). Another influence on the hermeneutics of this paper is Moshe Greenberg, "The True Meaning of Scripture" [Hebrew], in Al HaMikra v'al Ha Yahadut (Tel Aviv: Am Oved, 1984), pp. 344-349. Also, I have learned much from Noam Zohar, Alternatives in Jewish Bioethics (Albany, NY: SUNY, 1997), especially the methodological introduction, pp. 1-12. See also Zohar's exchange with the right-wing Halakhist and philosopher R.J. David Bleich over the problem of obligatory and discretionary war injudaism, reproduced in Commandment and Community: New Essays in Jewish Legal and Politica l Philosophy, edited by D. H. Frank (Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 1997), pp. 245--273. Though his reading of text is often subtle, Bleich's methodology is often crude, rhetorically claiming that he only transmits the Halakhah as it is, rather than constitute it actively. This paper argues against precisely such methodological naivete.

(3.) The Talmud, Hagiga 3b, offers this answer to this problem. How can I study Torah, it asks, when one authority rules one way and others favor the opposite? Is this not hopelessly confusing? The Gemara's answer: make your ear like a grain hopper--wide at the top and narrow at the bottom--to absorb all possible evidence and shake out the best.

(4.) Shulhan Arukh, Orach Hayim, 124.6, Magen Abraham, ad loc., Hayei Adam, principle 6.

(5.) B. Berakhot 47a.

(6.) Or Zarua, Laws of the Meal, # 178, 192. For the source, see J. Berakhot 7.3, 10c.

(7.) cf. R Moshe Isserles, SA, OH 167.2.

(8.) See B. Shabbat 119b, B. Sanhedrin 110b, Yalkut Shimoni, Isaiah #429.

(9.) Devarim Rabbah 7.1

(10.) B. Berakhot 53b.

(11.) I take this opportunity to protest the common practice in liberal synagogues where the entire congregation is invited to join in making a blessing, all saying (or singing) shehechyanu, haMotzi, or havdala. It is usually explained that it is more empowering and welcoming to ask worshippers to make the blessing, rather than designating someone to make it for them. This inverts the social valence the Sages assigned to amen, unfortunately, altogether missing the unifying power of this communal response.

(12.) Jewish esotericism, both Franco-German and Spanish contributed some fascinating expositions of this rabbinic teaching, dating from at least as early as the twelfth century. This is not the place to discuss these readings. However R. Bahye to Exodus 14.31, ed. Chavel, 2:122-4 explains many of these from the Spanish tradition, some of which also appear in the Zohar. Additionally, Sefer Hasidim 18, ed. Margaliot, 79 and its contemporary, Tosafot of R. Yehuda Sirilion at Berakhot 53b from the late twelfth- or early thirteenth-century record the numerological explanation that the value of amen, 91, equals that of YHVH and Adonay (26+65). This is often repeated by later codifiers and poskim.

(13.) Torah Commentary 2. 122, cf. Responsa of R. Solomon b. Adret (Rashba), 5.53, who appears to be R. Bahye's source.

(14.) R. Avraham Weiss, "Open Orthodoxy!: A Modem Orthodox Rabbi's Creed," Judaism 46.4 (Fall 1997): 410-11, at n.8 in the name of R Saul Berman.

(15.) Robert Cover, "Nomos and Narrative," in Narrative, Violence and the Word: The Essays of Robert Cover, pp. 101-102. Zohar, "Reply to David Bleich," in Commandment and Community, 272.

(16.) He treats this as an English word transliterated into Hebrew characters, [LANGUAGE NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII] rather than as the Hebrew word [LANGUAGE NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII].

(17.) Mention of the divine name and dominion are the critical components of all blessings. B. Berakhot 40b. Shulhan Arukh, O.H. 214.1, Maimonides, Laws of Blessings 1.5.

(18.) [LANGUAGE NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII].

(19.) IW, OH, vol. 3, #21-22.

(20.) In this, of course, R. Moshe Feinstein follows R Moshe b. Maimon, who likewise sought to condition membership in the people of Israel on a set of religious tenets. It is noteworthy that Maimonides' project of codifying 13 principles of Jewish dogma basically failed, though in synagogues today we sing them to snappy tunes. In his own day, the other great contemporary rabbinic authority, B.. Abraham b. David of Posquiers attacked Maimonides' principles for excluding the Jews who would learn their theology from the simple meaning of biblical and rabbinic texts to discover such things as "the finger of God" (Critique of Laws of Repentance, 3.8). And much of subsequent Medieval Jewish philosophy resisted Rambam on using theological litmus tests to condition Jewish identity. See Menahem Kellner, Dogma in MedievalJewish Thought: From Maimonides to Abravanel (London: Littman Library, 1997), pp. 207-209.

(21.) Maimonides, Laws of Testimony 10.2-3, 11.1, Shulhan Arukh, Hoshen Mishpat 34.

(22.) Maimonides, Guide for the Perplexed, 334.

(23.) B. Pesahim 113b.

(24.) Other leading twentieth-century authorities have mare complicated views on defining heresy. For instance, note the contrast between R. Feinstein's approach and that of the Hazon Ish, R. Abraham Isaiah Karelitz, "the spiritual godfather" of ultra-orthodoxy, in the words of Lawrence Kaplan ("Hazon Ish: Haredi Critic of Traditional Orthodoxy," in Uses of Tradition: Jewish Continuity in the Modern Era, edited by jack Wertheimer [New York: Jewish Theological Seminary, 1992], p. 146). An implacable opponent of modernizing Jews, R Karelitz resisted applying the category of Apikoros. With God's providence less evident today, he held that those who stray do so from confusion and not wickedness. Instead of blaming them for impiety, the Hazon Ish urges gentleness toward non-Orthodox Jews (Hazon Ish, YD 13.16): "We must bring them back through bonds of love and spread rays of light as much as we can."

Also, R Israel Meir HaKohen, (known as the Hafetz Hayim) distinguishes between those who are indifferent to commandments, and true apikorsim who are actually "bound to idolatry." True apikorsim would prefer to violate Halakha than to keep it, and choose the forbidden, in order to provoke. The merely sloppy in observance are heretics only figuratively, he holds. See Mishna Berurah to OH39 and especially Biur Halakha s.v. sheketevam Apikoros. One cannot claim that R. Feinstein is using the term Apikoros in this sort of figurative or non-technical sense, since he is applying precisely those rules dealing with the actual Apikoros' religious writing of the divine name. R. HaXohen instead groups contemporary non-orthodox Jews with the ancient Samaritans, a group of deviant Jews. "It is obvious that the sinners of Israel who do not believe in the words of the Sages are like Samaritans before they were expelled. To these, we must answer amen when we hear the entire blessing from their mouths." But such people should not be counted in a quorum for prayer, he rules. See Biur Halakha in MB. 215, s.v, hamecarekh apikoros.

(25.) It is true that in some responsa (e.g., IM, W vol. 1, #110) he takes a more generous approach, acknowledging that some Conservative rabbis might supervise conversion correctly. But this opposes the substantial majority of his decisions. In IM, EH vol. 1, #135 R. Feinstein concedes that some Conservative rabbis remain inwardly faithful, but joined the heretical movement to earn higher salaries. In other words, according to R. Moshe, some Conservative rabbis are guilty of only hypocrisy, not out right blasphemy. On R Feinstein's writings about heterodox Judaism generally, see Isaac Levin, "The Conservative Movement as it is Reflected in the Writings of R. Moshe Feinstein," Sefer Aviad (Festschrifft for Ze'ev Wolfsberg) (Jerusalem: R Kook Institute, 1986), pp. 28 I-293. Levin equivocates in his analysis, noting that R Feinstein sometimes considers technical strategies for accommodating the heterodox. For example, R. Moshe permits Orthodox weddings to be held in Conservative synagogues in emergency situatio ns, when the Conservative rabbi is not in the building, and as long as the Orthodox worshippers need not enter the sanctuary. Levin believes concessions like this indicate a more flexible attitude on R. Moshe's part, despite the vigor of his polemical language. In my judgment, this argument fails on the overwhelming balance of the evidence. Levin's article includes a wonderful index of 45 specific responsa in which R Moshe treats the issue of Conservative and Reform Judaism. On a related matter, R Jacob Chinitz reports his personal recollection that R Feinstein asked him to facilitate his fundraising efforts among Detroit Conservative rabbis in the 1950s. See Chinitz, "Reb Moshe and the Conservatives," Conservation Judaism 41.3 (1989): 13. Evidently, there was a limit to how R. Feinstein applied his exhortation that: "The essence of the rule is that one must distance one's self in whatever way possible from those Conservatives...."

(26.) [LANGUAGE NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII]

(27.) Maimonides, Laws of Idolatry, 2.5, based on B. Avodah Zarah 17a. In another responsum (Orach Hayim vol. I #33) R. Moshe holds that willful Sabbath violators can repent and regain their fitness as witnesses. However, from his writings this would appear to apply to lapsedjews who become Ba'alei Teshuva. It would not appear to apply to Conservative or Reform rabbis, who are "inciters and those who lead astray."

(28.) Maimonides, Laws of the Murderer 4.10, although no contemporary authority of which I am aware actually advocates this.

(29.) Commentary to Mishna, edited by Joseph Kapah (Jerusalem: R Kook Institute, 1964) 4.2 17

(30.) For instance, see the stinging comments of the recently deceased Rabbi Aaron Soloveitchik, "On the Matter of Conservative Weddings," HaPardes 61.2, #5, pp. 8-19. R. Soloveitchik, scion of the great Lithuanian scholarly family and brother of modem Orthodox giant R. Joseph Soloveitchik, takes a more nuanced approach than R. Feinstein, yet arrives at similar conclusions. "If one were a Conservative Rabbi who believed in the Written Torah and Oral Torah with complete faith and kept all mitzvot with precision, both the major and the minor (if we can posit that such a strange thing is possible) and if he were a great scholar and expert in Talmud and Codes; since he is a rabbi of a Conservative synagogue, and a member of the Conservative movement, even this person would be unfit to judge and to be a member of a rabbinical court, such as for conversion" (p.18). Rabbi Soloveitchik bases this unforgiving ruling on B. Sanhedrin 26a, where it is stated that one who joins "a confederation of the wicked" cannot judge . "Even if a Conservative rabbi is a great scholar and keeper of mitzvot and exemplar of proper ethical conduct, he is part of a confederation of traitors," he concludes.

(31.) I should stress that R. Ettlinger was unyielding vis-a-vis Reform Judaism. But he also showed some respect toward those Jews who were straying from his Orthodoxy.

(32.) Binyan Tzion, New Responsa, #23.

(33.) In IM, OH vol. 3 #22, R. Moshe makes a variant of this argument about one who generally observes mitzvot but falters on occasion. "If it is known that his desecration of Sabbath was only because he could not control his lust, such as if he regularly prays and lays tefillin, then his blessing is a blessing and one responds amen, for his intention is toward heaven."

It is worth noting that R. Moshe occasionally draws some distinction between mere followers of the heterodox movements and their rabbinic leaders. However, on balance it appears that even committed lay people are regarded as heretics. "Anyone who bears the name of shame Conservative may be presumed to be immoral with respect to many prohibitions, and a denier of many tenets," GM, YD vol. 1, #160). See also IM, YD vol. 2 #108 where he states that the president of a Conservative synagogue is forbidden as a witness, as are the shamash and any other employee. On balance, R. Moshe holds that one need not be a rabbi to fall into the category of heretic by association. Instead, anyone involved enough to take a ritual role or employment in a heterodox synagogue cannot be considered a blameless "child kidnapped by gentiles."

(34.) The above is in accordance with R. Tarfon in the Talmud; R. Yossi disagrees and regards the names in these books as sanctified, which must not be burnt.

(35.) I do not believe this maneuver is warranted, and I would interpret the Talmudic passage differently. Instead of saying that one burns a heretic's Torah because the apparent name has no sanctity, one should say that the name is sanctified, yet can be destroyed for the greater good of wiping the world clean of the deeds--even the good deeds--of Apikorsim. This is the thrust of R Ishmael's exposition in the Talmud: just as God permits the destruction of the sanctified name in the Sotah trial in order to bring renewed love between husband and wife, so too God permits the destruction of a sanctified name where it would help Israel overcome its hatred-causing enemies. If this is not the proper reading, then R. Ishmael's argument a fortiori (kal va'homer) is quite weak; ideally, one should only argue a kal va'homer if both the minori and fortiori terms share all features in common but one. But if the name written by the Apikoros has no sanctity at all, then R. Ishmael's kal va'homer evaporates; the reason for the destruction of the name would have nothing to do with fostering love or overcoming hate, which is what R. Ishmael himself states. The critical difference would merely be the profanity of this particular divine name.

(36.) B. Nedarim 27b.

(37.) R. Israel Meir HaKohen, Mishna Berura 216.2, n.10. The correctness of this reading is evident from its grouping with the child who is learning in school and the adult who alters an established blessing.

(38.) Tosefta Berakhot 3.26 is substantially identical to this Mishna, except for insignificant variations in wording. The only important difference is editorial context. The editors of the Mishna set this teaching in a discussion of the "blessings of enjoyment," such as after eating; while the editors of the Tosefta placed the identical teaching in a discussion of the laws of the Amida, the statutory prayer. One may conclude that the conditions for saying amen apply when one hears either statutory prayers or blessings of thanksgiving.

(39.) Samaritans are seen as marginal Jews in Rabbinic literature, obligated to Mitzvot, but displaying non-normative or deviant religious practice. They converted to Judaism in the Biblical period, say the rabbis, but it is not clear whether their motivations were sincere enough to give their conversions validity. Subsequently they were found to be idolatrous, and they were expelled from the nation. B. Hullin 6a. Most commentators take the passages under examination here to refer to the Samaritans prior to their expulsion from the nation. Thus, Samaritans in these texts are to be regarded as deviant Jews, rather than non-Jews.

(40.) Shulhan Arukh, Orach Hayim, 124.6, Magen Abraham, ad loc., Hayei Adam, principle 6.

(41.) Rashi, B. Berakhot 51b.

(42.) Authorities differ about the minimum amount of a blessing one must hear before responding amen. Some hold that one must know merely which blessing was in fact being recited. Others also require that one heard the name of God being pronounced. Still others demand only hearing the final words of the blessing. This controversy applies only to one who is not using this particular berakha to fulfill one's own obligation. But if one wishes to fulfill the obligation of saying HaMotzi by listening to another's blessing and responding amen, then one must hear the entire blessing, word for word.

(43.) Responsa of Maimonides, Blau edition, #256, p. 474.

(44.) This teaching appears in J. Berakhot 13c, J. Sukka, 54a, J. Megilla 72a, Genesis Rabba 66.6, in addition to Tosefta 5.21. For a thorough review of these versions, see R. Saul Lieberman, Tosefta KiFeshuta, Berakhot, vol. 1, 86-87, and Tosefet Rishonim, vol. 1, 25. The explanation I offer here follows Lieberman's suggestion for the correct reading, based on Tosefta MS Erfuhrt. There is no need to detail the other variations here. However, one particularly interesting variant has it that Jews should respond to Samaritans only after hearing the entire blessing, while they should answer to non-Jews even after hearing only part of the blessing. Practically, then, non-Jews are to be treated the same was as proper Jews: one always responds amen no matter what one has heard of the blessing.

(45.) IM, YD, vol. 2, #100.

(46.) This seems to be the correct version. Rambam-an avid student of the Jerusalem Talmud-is unlikely to have missed the law, repeated three times in that work, that one should respond amen to gentiles. Among later writers, R. Yosef Karo in his commentary to the Mishneh Torah and R. David HaLevi of Lelov (the Turei Zahav) argue that this is the correct version. Also, As a matter of law, R. Moshe Isserles rules this way in his glosses to SA OH2 15.2. R. Israel Meir HaKohen, the Hafetz Hayim, concurs (Sha'arei Tziyun ad loc, n.9). Among the Rishonim who report this Tosefta/Yerushalmi teaching as authoritative are R. Asher b. Yehiel (Rosh), Tosafot R. Yehuda Sirilion, Tosafot HaRosh and the "Students of R. Yonah."

(47.) R. Karo proposes that the permissive ruling applies prior to the expulsion of the Samaritans from the Jewish people, and the restrictive ruling afterwards. I see no grounds for introducing this deduction. Neither did the Vilna Gaon. See next note.

(48.) Biur HaGR"A, OH 215.2, s.v. v'onin.

(49.) Divrei Hamudot to the Rosh, Berakhot 8.5, 36a in Rash pagination.

JEREMY KALMANOFSKY is rabbi of Congregation Ansche Chesed in New York City. He was a Wexner Graduate Fellow during his years at Jewish Theological Seminary where he was ordained in 1997. He formerly served as assistant dean of the JTS Rabbinical School and is a Ph.D. candidate in Jewish Mysticism at JTS.