Al Reguel Ajat

It is written in the Torah that Aaron, of the tribe of Levi, received from God the monopoly of the priesthood. Aaron’s family had the exclusivity and responsibility to make offerings at the altar of God, first in the Tabernacle and later in the Temple in Jerusalem. They were also obligated to bless the people, redeem the firstborn, and teach the Torah (Leviticus 10:10-11). They were also required to remain pure, meaning they could not be near a corpse or marry divorced women, converts to Judaism, or promiscuous women. These obligations and prerogatives would be passed from father to son. From this derives the division of the people of Israel into three groups: the priests or Kohanim, who are the descendants of Aaron; the other Levites who are not descendants of Aaron; and the rest of the people of Israel.

With the destruction of the Temple, the cohanim lost their role of making sacrifices and were left exclusively to bless the people and redeem the firstborn. The teaching of the Torah passed into the hands of the rabbis. Over time, the custom became established, as it is not written anywhere, that the cohanim are the first to bless the reading of the Torah.

Orthodox Jews retained the roles and restrictions of the cohanim. Depending on the Orthodox community, the cohanim bless the people on various religious occasions and are prohibited from freely marrying or approaching the dead. Some Conservative communities follow the same rules, but in most liberal movements, the role of the cohen was practically eliminated. They argue that without the Temple, there is no justification for having priests and it is very difficult to conclusively prove descent from Aaron.

Generally, the blessing ceremony requires the cohanim to come forward, cover their heads with tallit, extend their arms high, and place their fingers in a specific shape, while repeating the three blessings stipulated in the Torah. In the Reconstructionist movement, on the other hand, it is customary for the entire family to cover themselves with the father’s tallit and recite the same blessings. The Reformists practically eliminated everything related to the cohanim. In the Conservative movement, there has been extensive debate about whether women descended from a cohen have the same rights as men, and opinions are divided, but they did eliminate all prohibitions regarding marriage.

Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson, rector of the Ziegler School for Rabbinic Studies for the Conservative movement, some time ago reintroduced the cohanim blessing on the major holidays in his congregation. He argues that every society develops a network of stories, prohibitions, festivals, ceremonies, and institutions that must be preserved, as long as they do not contradict the moral convictions of the group, do not become a heavy burden for its members, violate the values ​​of the world around us, and do not alienate the Jew from his heritage. The difference in their ceremony of «dijenen,» blessing, is that it prepares the group of cohanim who will participate for a year and includes women daughters of cohanim.

The Lord said to Moses (Bamidbar 6:24–26): «Say to Aaron and his sons, ‘This is how you shall bless the children of Israel. Say to them: God bless you and keep you; God make his face shine upon you and grant you his favor; God lift up his countenance upon you and grant you peace.'» The blessing of the cohanim is not only not a relic, it is an inheritance that transcends time.

By Marcos Gojman

Bibliography: Article by Bradley Shavit Artson and other sources.

For people in the Middle Ages, the Earth was the center of the universe, religion occupied the central place, and society was organized in feudal monarchies. But when Columbus’s voyages demonstrated that the Earth and the planets revolved around the Sun, when reason replaced religious faith, and when feudal monarchies were replaced by nation-states, the paradigm of the Middle Ages ended and the paradigm of Modernity emerged.

Thomas S. Kuhn (1922-1996), a renowned philosopher of science, defined «paradigm» as the set of convictions, values, experiences, beliefs, ways of thinking, and customs shared by the members of a given society and which explain their behavior and their way of understanding life and the world. He says that the shift from one paradigm to another occurs through some «revolutionary» event, which can be an event, a new idea, or both.

Hans Kung, in his book «Judaism: Past, Present, Future,» uses Kuhn’s model and divides the history and development of Judaism into six paradigms. He explains that the shift from one paradigm to the next occurred through an important historical event and a change in the way of understanding and practicing Judaism as a way of life.

The first is the paradigm of the «tribes.» It begins with the patriarchs and the twelve tribes and is consolidated with Moses, with the Torah received at Sinai, and the conquest of the Land of Israel. During this period, leaders such as Samson’s emerge. The paradigm shifts when the threat of the Philistines forces the Hebrew people to cease being autonomous tribes and organize themselves into a monarchical system.

The second is that of monarchy, when the Hebrews unified and accepted the leadership of a king (Saul, David, and Solomon). This paradigm ended when, separating into the kingdoms of Israel and Judah, Assyria disappeared from the Kingdom of Israel and the Kingdom of Judah was exiled to Babylon.

The third paradigm, that of theocracy, arose with the return of the exiles from Judah to the Land of Israel, led by Ezra and Nehemiah. This was when the priests, the descendants of Aaron, gave the Tanakh, the Bible, a central role in the identity of the Jewish people. It ended when the Romans destroyed Jerusalem and the Temple.

The fourth paradigm is that of rabbinic Judaism, when the rabbis assumed leadership of the Jewish people in exile. The medieval ghetto with the synagogue became the center of Jewish life, and the Talmud became its code of conduct. The paradigm ends when the Jew leaves the medieval ghetto, thanks to the ideas of the Enlightenment and Emancipation carried by Napoleon’s army.

The fifth paradigm is that of assimilation into modernity. It emerged in Europe with thinkers such as Moses Mendelssohn and Herzl. It culminated in the Holocaust and the creation of the State of Israel.

The sixth is that of postmodernism, and today it has taken three different paths: that of the religious Jew, the secular Zionist Jew, and the traditional cultural Jew, which reflect the three axes that have always governed Judaism: God, the land of Israel, and the Jewish people. What is your paradigm?

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Hans Kung «Judaism, Past, Present, Future.

At the beginning of the last century, the smicha, the title of rabbi, was a piece of paper on which was written, in Torah-like font, the certification given by a rabbi to a candidate whom he knew personally, that, in his judgment, that person had the necessary knowledge to practice as such. At the end was the rabbi’s signature, the name of the city where he practiced, and the date, expressed in the parashah (the chapter of the Torah) corresponding to that day of the week and the current Jewish year. The «smicha» was handwritten, did not mention the name or seal of any academic institution, and the signer did not hold any title or official position.

Since then, obtaining the title of rabbi has evolved considerably. The same degree is now a beautiful diploma, printed on parchment paper, bearing the name of an academic institution, proof of having met the requirements for receiving the degree, and the names and signatures of the relevant authorities. But not only has the diploma changed, but also the way of preparing and the role a rabbi now plays in his community.

Milton Steinberg says: “Rabbis, first and foremost, are teachers of tradition.” Although they perform other functions today, they are, above all, teachers. In no sense are they priests, since any Jewish adult, with a certain minimum of knowledge and the correct spiritual attitude, can conduct the religious services dictated by Jewish tradition. But now rabbis, in addition to being teachers, are also pastors, preachers, administrators, and community leaders. Louis Jacobs says that until the 14th century, rabbis did not make a living from their profession. They were scholars in the study of Jewish law, and their role was to interpret it at the request of members of the community, without receiving any salary. For their services, they were only exempt from contributing financially to the community. Even in the Middle Ages, rabbis practiced other professions to support themselves, such as medicine or commerce. By the 16th century, the position of local rabbi had become a paid position within the community.

Today, the studies required to become a rabbi vary depending on the denomination. Ultra-Orthodox Jews primarily require the study and knowledge of Jewish law, especially the Talmud and codes such as the Shulchan Aruch. Modern Orthodox Jews, in addition to the above, study modern theology and philosophy. Conservative rabbis, in addition to studying what their Orthodox colleagues do, also study the Bible, Midrash, Kabbalah, the historical development of Judaism, Jewish ethics, Conservative Jewish responsa, classical and modern works of Jewish theology and philosophy, and everything related to leading a community. The program is at the graduate level, so a bachelor’s degree is required. Reform Judaism, on the other hand, focuses more on the pastoral aspect and primarily studies the historical development of Judaism, biblical criticism, and traditional rabbinic texts. To graduate, students practice as rabbinical interns in a congregation throughout their years of study. Previously, only men could be rabbis. Now, except for the ultra-Orthodox, women can also become rabbis in all other denominations. Historically, not only has Judaism evolved, but the path to becoming a rabbi has also evolved.

By Marcos Gojman

Bibliography: Milton Steinberg «Basic Judaism» and other sources.

Thomas Edison, the great American inventor, developed the incandescent light bulb in 1879. In 1882, he started up the first electricity generating plant in lower Manhattan, serving 85 customers who had a total of 400 light bulbs in their homes. From then until now, Edison could never have imagined the many functions electricity would perform in our homes. We use it for countless activities in our daily lives. When we lose power, our lives are greatly disrupted. We no longer understand how we lived without electricity.

Our sages began to question how this new paradigm affected Jewish life. Especially since electricity provided light and made it much easier to perform many of our common household chores, such as cooking and washing, they wondered how its use would affect Shabbat observance: Could using an electrical device be considered «work» (melachah) or affect our ability to rest (shvut) on Shabbat?

There are 39 jobs, or melachot, that our sages defined as prohibited on Shabbat, and electricity can affect them. For example, some consider that flipping a light switch on or off violates the prohibition of turning on (37) or off (36) a fire, since they consider the incandescent light bulb equivalent to fire. Others hold the opposite view. They do not consider an electric light to be a fire, since there is no combustion, no flame, and no coal is generated.

There are other melachot that have been used to argue for or against the use of electrical devices on Shabbat. Using a computer or cell phone conflicts with the prohibition of writing (33). Using electric grills, with the prohibition of cooking (11). For some, turning on the light in a room is equivalent to finishing the construction (34) or completing a task (38).

It could be defined as the common denominator of what is prohibited on Shabbat, as anything that results in permanent or lasting changes to our environment. The purpose of cooking is to transform something raw into something cooked. The purpose of writing is to store information for later retrieval. But using an electric grill to heat already cooked food could be permitted. Using a card with a magnetic strip to open a hotel room would be the same case. In general, it can be said that manual labor that is prohibited on Shabbat is also prohibited if performed using electricity.

Rabbi Joel Roth, citing writings as diverse as those of Samson Raphael Hirsch, Mordechai Kaplan, and Abraham Joshua Heschel, explains that they all agree in defining «melach,» the work prohibited on Shabbat, as anything that allows people to «dominate or change» their environment. Many rabbis have addressed the issue of electricity use on Shabbat, and there is a range of opinions, from the most restrictive to the most permissive. Furthermore, new devices are emerging, such as light-emitting diode (LED) light bulbs, which force us to rethink old rules. Ultimately, the issue is more about “shvut,” rest, than “melachah,” work. It’s not so much about what work shouldn’t be done, but rather what I should do to truly rest on Shabbat.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Daniel Nevins: “Electricity and Shabbat” and other sources.

“All the vows, all the prohibitions, all the oaths, all the consecrations… that we have promised, or sworn, or consecrated, or forbidden ourselves, from this Yom Kippur until the next Yom Kippur (Ashkenazi version), from the last Yom Kippur until the present Yom Kippur (Sephardic version), may they come to our benefit. As for all of them, we repudiate them. They are all undone, abandoned, canceled, null and void, they are no longer in force or effect. Our vows are no longer vows, and our prohibitions are no longer prohibitions, and our oaths are no longer oaths.”

This is the text of the Kol Nidrei prayer, which begins Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement and undoubtedly one of the best-known rituals within Judaism. The accompanying melody, especially the Ashkenazi version, is even better known than the meaning of the lyrics. Many Jews who do not normally attend synagogue make an exception on Yom Kippur night to hear the Kol Nidrei prayer. However, Kol Nidrei is not a prayer; it is a legal formula for canceling vows; it does not mention God and is written in Aramaic with a bit of Hebrew. Nor does it speak of repentance, the main theme of the holiday.

The Torah mentions the subject of vows or vows in several passages. In Deuteronomy 23:22-23 it is written: “If you make a vow to the Lord your God, do not delay in fulfilling it, for be sure that the Lord your God will require it of you, and if you break it, you will bear a sin. 23 However, you do not sin if you refrain from making vows.” Eventually, the rabbis defined how to nullify vows in the Talmudic tractates Nedarim and Shevuot. This is why it is customary to say “bli neder,” “without this being a promise,” when a person makes a promise.

It is unknown when and where Kol Nidrei was written. Evidence of it dates back to the 9th century CE. It is known that the great rabbis disliked it. Rabbi Amram Gaon, in his “Seder,” says that it is a foolish custom and that it is forbidden to practice it. But by the year 1000, the Kol Nidrei prayer had already gained acceptance in Babylon. In the 11th century, Rabbeinu Tam changed the phrase “from last Yom Kippur to the present Yom Kippur” to “from this Yom Kippur to the next Yom Kippur,” which was accepted by the Ashkenazi community, but not by the Sephardim. Scholars such as Joseph S. Bloch have sought the ritual’s origin in the forced conversions of Jews to Christianity during the Visigoth era in 7th-century Spain, in the Byzantine Empire (700-850), and in Inquisition Spain, when converts prayed it in secret.

Chanting Kol Nidrei on Yom Kippur night, with all the men covered in their tallit and all the Torah scrolls surrounding the Bimah dressed in white, pretending to witness a song and lyrics that commemorate those forced to abandon their Judaism, is more than simply asking for the annulment of a vow; it is proclaiming our belonging through the power of a melody.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Articles by Louis Kaplan, Herman Kieval, and other sources.

Rabbi Haym Soloveitchik was born in Boston in 1937. He is the son of Rabbi Joseph Ber Soloveitchik (1903-1993), the «Rob,» who served as director of the rabbinical seminary at Yeshivah University for over 50 years, during which time he ordained over 2,000 Modern Orthodox rabbis. Haym is currently a research professor at that university, specializing in Jewish history and literature.

In his essay, «Rupture and Reconstruction: The Transformation of Contemporary Orthodoxy,» Haym Soloveitchik distinguishes between the traditional practice of Judaism learned by imitation and the textual practice learned from books. He argues that, in Europe, before the Holocaust, Judaism was learned at home, much as one’s native language was learned: by observing and imitating what one’s elders did, especially parents and grandparents. Parents celebrated Passover the same way they saw their grandparents celebrating it. They learned the «recipe» for how to hold a Seder from watching their elders do it, and they understood that it wasn’t an exact science, that it had to be adapted to each particular situation. Of course, there was a «recipe book» that was read and studied, but the way to pray, eat, drink, dress, have sex, work, and even rest—in general, the way of life—wasn’t learned by studying a manual, but was absorbed at home, on the street, in the synagogue, and at school.

But now, how to hold a Passover Seder is learned from a manual that is becoming more and more detailed. The «mother tongue» is now learned by studying grammar books, not by listening to our mother speak. And this was a complete change. It even turns out that our mother no longer speaks her own language correctly, compared to the grammar manual. Manuals now dictate how to do everything, including how to live. Religious texts prevailed over traditional Jewish practice. The tragedy of the Holocaust, with the loss of the continuity of Jewish life, was the turning point in this process that imposed the practice of textual Judaism over the practice of traditional Judaism. The change was brought about by works such as the Mishnah Brurah of the Chofetz Chaim, which its author wrote based on an enormous amount of rabbinic literature, but not on references to daily practice.

Those most affected by this rupture were the Haredim themselves, the ultra-Orthodox Jews. Especially those who have just become observant, when they weren’t before, the «chozer vetshuvah,» because they practice a Judaism that they didn’t experience at home and had to learn from a manual. For example, Haym Soloveitchik explains it this way: «Today’s kosher kitchen, with its rigid separation between milk and meat, with its two sets of dishes, two sinks, two draining boards, two shelves, two sets of dishcloths and tablecloths, even two cupboards, has no basis in Halacha, much less in the way our parents made it. The simple fact is that traditional Jewish cooking, passed down from mother to daughter for generations, is now unrecognizable and has been immensely amplified beyond halachic requirements.» We’re moving from a home-made Judaism to one based solely on a printed text.

By: Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Haym Soloveichik: “Rupture and reconstruction: the transformation of contemporary orthodoxy”

Menachem Mendel Schneerson (1902-1994) was born in the port of Nokolaev, in the Russian Empire. He was the son of Rabbi Levi Yitzhak Schneerson and Chana Yanovsky. He was a direct descendant of the third Lubavitcher Rebbe, Tzemach Tzedek Schneerson. From childhood, he was distinguished by his extraordinary intelligence and empathy. At the age of eleven, his private tutor, Zalman Vilenkin, announced to his father that he had nothing more to teach him. It was then that his father took his education into his own hands. He taught him rabbinic literature, Kabbalah, and Talmud, which he had mastered completely by the age of 17.

In 1923, he visited the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzhak Schneerson, for the first time, and met his daughter, Haya Mushka. They married in Warsaw in 1928 and moved to Berlin, where he entered the University of Berlin to study mathematics, physics, and philosophy. His father-in-law was very proud of his academic achievements and paid for his college education.

In 1933, with the rise of Nazism, they moved to Paris, where he continued his religious and community activities, at his father-in-law’s request, while also studying mechanics and earning a degree in electrical engineering in 1937. He entered the Sorbonne to study mathematics, which he left unfinished, and in 1940 he had to flee to Vichy, then to Nice, before finally leaving Europe and arriving in New York in 1941. A few months earlier, his father-in-law, the Rebbe, had managed to escape from Poland and also reach that city, settling in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn, where the headquarters of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement is still located.

During the war, he obtained American citizenship and volunteered for the Navy, where he helped design electrical circuits for the battleship USS Missouri, among other jobs. By then, the Rebbe had already appointed him director of the three main Chabad organizations, dedicated to education, social service, and publications. In 1942, he initiated the «shlichus» (emissaries) program, which consisted of sending pairs of yeshiva students during their summer vacations to places with isolated Jewish communities, with the aim of teaching Judaism to adults, and especially to children.

In 1950, his father-in-law died, and he was buried in Montefiore Cemetery in Queens. His tomb, known as the «Ohel,» would eventually become a place of pilgrimage for his followers. In 1951, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson became the seventh Lubavitcher Rebbe. He dedicated his energy and time to many fields. Education was his highest priority. He placed special importance on women learning Torah.

In the 1960s, he instituted his «mitzvot campaign,» where volunteers placed tefillin on Jewish men on the street and gave away candlesticks for Shabbat and Hanukkah, among other things. He was also deeply concerned about everything related to the State of Israel, especially the work of its soldiers. Every week, he gave away dollar bills to those who came to visit him, to teach them the importance of tzedaka. In general, the Rebbe always advocated remaining at the center ideologically and socially, seeking to be the bridge between the secular and the religious. He died in 1994 and was buried next to his father-in-law in the Ohel. He had no children and did not name a successor. But he left behind the Jewish organization with the most extensive presence worldwide.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Material from the Chabad website and other sources.

The Talmud, in tractate «Shabbat,» lists 39 categories of work that are prohibited on Shabbat. One of them, 39, states that it is forbidden to carry anything from a private domain, such as one’s home, to a public domain, such as the street, and vice versa. The term does not refer to whether the space is owned by someone, but rather to whether the space is enclosed or not. This prohibition against carrying applies to anything, including the tallit, house keys, a stroller, etc.

In ancient times, many neighborhoods, such as those where Jews lived, and even entire cities, were walled. This solved the problem, as the rabbis declared all spaces within the walls to be private spaces, allowing people to carry objects within their boundaries. The private character was achieved by having the entire community share a piece of bread, since sharing bread is an action that takes place in a private space. However, one could not carry objects whose use was prohibited on Shabbat, such as a pen or an umbrella. However, one could carry a siddur and a tallit to the synagogue or the key to one’s house.

However, today’s cities are no longer walled, so the problem of carrying necessary objects on Shabbat persists. The solution the rabbis provided was to group all the spaces in a place, whether private or public, and turn them into a private domain. How? Following this logic: A wall that encloses a space is still a wall, even if it has a door. Therefore, the wall does not have to be solid, as it can have many doors. A door is made up of two vertical elements, such as two posts, and a horizontal element, which closes and forms the «door.» For example: Two telephone poles and a wire connecting them are considered a door, for the purposes of enclosing the space and making it private.

Thus, a «wall» could be composed of a series of «doors» formed by poles and wires, in addition to actual walls or partitions. In this way, large spaces can be closed off and made «private» for halachatic purposes, allowing observant Jews to carry on Shabbat. This is known as an «eruv.» Eruvs existed in small Eastern European towns, the «shtetls,» and they exist today in many cities with a sizable Jewish community.

Sharonne Cohen tells us that, for many people, the concept of the eruv seems like a simple legalistic ruse designed to resolve the prohibition of carrying necessary objects on Shabbat. However, building and maintaining it requires an effort from the observant community, especially the Orthodox community. Why, then, do the rabbis insist on doing so? Charlotte Elisheva Fonrobert, in her text «The Political Symbolism of the Eruv,» among other things, clarifies that the rabbis’ purpose for having an eruv is more symbolic than halachic. If you don’t want to violate Shabbat, you have to live within the area of ​​the eruv. This implies that Jews live in a specific area. If you live outside the eruv, you cannot participate in the communal Shabbat celebration. If you live outside, you are excluded from the community. It seems, at its core, that the eruv is a virtual return to living within the shtetl, even if only symbolically.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Articles by Sharonne Cohen, Charlotte Elisheva Fonrobert, and other sources.

One factor that distinguishes the different religious movements within Judaism is the absolute or relative character each gives to the commandments of the Torah. There are those, on the one hand, who completely resist making any changes, in contrast to those who have modified everything.

Shai Landesman tells us that when the walls of the ghetto began to crumble in the 18th century, ultra-Orthodox Judaism saw it as a threat to its existence. The aspect of modernity that most frightened the rabbis of that time was the modernist position that everything was relative. They saw the world moving toward a society where anything goes, where there is no absolute measure to define what is good, where there is no ulterior meaning or purpose to life. Shai explains that, to this end, they designed a structure where all aspects of life, from the most important religious obligations to the most mundane trivialities, have only one correct way to be done. Their opposition to change is total.

Modern Orthodoxy takes a different stance. Rabbi Norman Lamm says: “The Torah, faith, and religious study, on the one hand, and Madda, science and knowledge of the world, on the other, together offer us a more comprehensive and truthful vision than either alone.” Modern Orthodoxy, while remaining absolutely faithful to halacha, accepts that some principles found in the Torah cannot be taken literally. Persistently believing that the world was created in six 24-hour days is completely unsustainable. Seeking congruence between religious principles and those of science is the path of the Modern Orthodox.

Conservative or Masorti Judaism also bases the practice of Judaism on the commandments of the Torah, but accepts that their validity is not entirely absolute, as the history of the Jewish people teaches us how our sages adapted them to the needs of the moment. They maintain that some precepts can be modified to function in new circumstances, but this can only be done by a collegial group of specially chosen rabbis.

The Reconstructionist movement goes a little further. It rejects the divine origin of the halachic commandments, but recognizes that these, being a product of the evolution of Judaism as a civilization, have a certain absolute character, which encourages compliance.

For their part, Reformists go a step further by completely eliminating the obligation to observe halakha, and it is the rabbi who decides in each community how to practice their Judaism. And Humanist Judaism, by eliminating God from its vision of Judaism, leaves open the possibility of total change.

On what does each movement base its position on change? The key lies in how much one believes the mitzvoth have a divine origin or were created in part or entirely by man. To paraphrase Hamlet: “To change, or not to change, that is the question.”

By: Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Shai Landesman “On the alleged collapse of Haredism” and other sources.

It is written in Pirkei Avot (Treatise of the Fathers) 1:1: “Moses received the Torah on Mount Sinai and transmitted it to Yehoshua. He transmitted it to the elders of the people, who in turn passed it on to the prophets, who passed it on to the Men of the Great Assembly.”

The “Men of the Great Assembly,” in Hebrew “Anshei Knesset Haggeddolah,” were, according to Jewish tradition, a group of 120 scribes, sages, and prophets who lived from the final period of the biblical prophets, corresponding to the beginning of the Second Temple period, to the early Hellenistic period, the beginning of rabbinic Judaism. This was between 539 and 332 BCE, when the Land of Israel was under Persian rule.

Many of the foundations that shaped Judaism were established by them. They were the ones who established the canon of the Jewish Bible, deciding which books would be included in it. Tradition attributes to them the writing of the Books of Ezekiel, Daniel, Esther, and the Twelve Minor Prophets. They were also the ones who established the festival of Purim and composed the Amidah prayer that we recited daily to this day. They also introduced the classification of the Oral Torah into the three major groups that comprise it: the midrashim, the halakhot, and the agadot.

History tells us that the members of the Knesset Haggedolah were Jews who had returned from exile in Babylon, along with Ezra and Nehemiah, who were also part of the group. They opened the study of the Torah to all Jews without distinction, thanks to Ezra’s weekly readings, a tradition that endures to this day. The canonization of the Jewish Bible made it the central authority around which Jewish life began to be structured, in part thanks to the «Men of the Great Assembly» who created the method of «midrash halacha,» in which they derived a halakhic rule from a biblical verse. They also created new halakhot to address the new requirements of the time, in addition to developing the Jewish calendar. They are generally mentioned in rabbinic literature as the authors of the ideas, rules, and prayers that began to shape the Judaism we know and practice.

The exact nature of the Great Assembly is unclear; it may have been a permanent institution with legislative and executive powers or simply a generic name for all the sages of that period. Although the names of some of its members are known, such as the prophets Hagay, Zechariah, Malachi, Mordechai, Nehemiah, and the priests Yehoshua and Shimon Hatzadik, the Great Assembly was decisive in defining the spiritual and cultural framework of Judaism, a framework that has survived through the centuries. It was the first Jewish parliament.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: “The Essential Talmud” by Adin Steinsaltz and other sources.