Mission Accomplished! My first Sefer Torah (actually, not really mine)

I have come a long way since I set out to write my own Sefer Torah years back. I studied all the relevant Halachot and sources, got myself a mentor to teach me the craft in Jerusalem and I eventually purchased the Klaf to write this scroll.

I write slowly and only in my free time, so I was expecting it would take me many years to finish the Torah. But something interesting happened.

A few months ago, I was spending my summer vacation in a seaside resort, and I got an Aliyah in the local Shul - the fifth portion of Parshas Korach, Chamishi. The Baal Koreh finished the reading, and as I was closing the Sefer Torah to make the final blessing, the corner of my eye say something strange with the last word. I still (mistakenly) made the Bracha after the Aliya but I opened the Torah once again and I realized that there was a mistake that looked like this:

The Hey's leg was connected to the top, possibly forming a Tav. The Shul's Gabbai decided to ask a child (unnecessary), who confirmed it was a Tav. It was obvious to me the word was originally written correctly; somehow this thin connector was either written by someone subsequently or it was an impurity that found its way there. I rubbed my finger against it to see if it was something that would easily come off, to no avail. So we put the Sefer Torah away and brought in a different one.

An untrained eye would not spot the problem, as the Sefer Torah's writing was very solid and it was regularly used for over 30 years in that Shul. My question was, and still is, when this mistake happened - was the Sefer Torah pasul for a long time already?

I later came back to the Shul to take another look at it with the Gabbay and I came to the conclusion this was an impurity that found its way in this letter. It was a clear case of bad luck - wrong thing at the wrong place at the wrong time - and this "ink" fell in the worst place possible, changing the form of the letter (Tzurat Haot). Once the letter's form is compromised, the Halacha is that this letter becomes invalidated, even tough it was originally written properly, and consequently the whole Torah is Pasul.

I still couldn't believe this happened - it's the first time I caught a potential psul in a Torah - and I kept touching this strange connector, when suddenly I was able to clip away the connector, restoring the letter to what it was - a Hey. Welcome back, Hey.

Problem solved? Not at all.

This seemed to be a classical case of fixing a letter via Chok Tochot, which is forbidden. Chok Tochot means shaping a letter not by writing it, but by erasing parts of another letter. Imagine you write a big square of black ink, and slowly you "sculp" a letter by erasing parts here and there - that's Chok Tochos and that's a classical act of invalidation according Halacha. By clipping away the connector, I created a Hey from a modified Tav - not by writing it but by "playing" with the Tav. If this was the case, I would have to remove the Hey and rewrite it.

In the other hand, it could be that the connector never actually modified the Hey, since it was kind of a sticker that could be removed (as I did!). If that was the case, perhaps the Torah was always Kosher and it would require no action.

We asked a knowledgeable Dayan, who decided that it was necessary to erase and re-write the Hey - the Torah was pasul indeed. I asked the Shul's board to let me fix it, so I could be the Sofer restoring this Torah by fixing just one letter. This reminded me a concept brought down in the Talmud in Menachot:

וא"ר יהושע בר אבא אמר רב גידל אמר רב הלוקח ס"ת מן השוק כחוטף מצוה מן השוק כתבו מעלה עליו הכתוב כאילו קיבלו מהר סיני אמר רב ששת אם הגיה אפי' אות אחת מעלה עליו כאילו כתבו R. Yehoshua bar Aba: One who buys a Sefer Torah is like one who seized a Mitzvah from the market (Rashi - it is a bigger Mitzvah to write it himself; Rema - he does not fulfill the Mitzvah);If he wrote a Sefer Torah, it is considered as if he received it from Sinai. 

Rav Sheshes: If he corrected even one letter, it is considered as if he wrote it.

A simple reading of this Gemara suggests that any Sofer fixing a Sefer Torah that is pasul is actually performing the Miztva of writing a Sefer Torah - even if the Torah is not his (for example, a communal Torah scroll or a scroll that belongs to a library). After all, he is "creating" a Kosher Torah Scroll.

The Tosafists immediately weigh in this issue and write explicitly that the Gemara's last clause is not an independent one; it is the the continuation of the previous cases and it talks about someone who bought a Sefer Torah, which was invalid, and fixed it and only in this case, the Talmud is saying that this is equivalent to actually writing a whole Torah. See here verbatim:

אם הגיה בו אפי' אות אחת. פירוש בס"ת שלקח מן השוק לא נחשב עוד כחוטף מצוה

Sounds like Tosafot is explaining this Gemara in order to specifically dispel the possibility ("Hava Amina") I raised above, and would obviously rule that a Sofer fixing someone else's Torah is not fulfilling the Mitzva of writing a Sefer Torah.

This view is the mainstream approach among the classic commentators, and it is the universally accepted Halacha. However, the Mishnas Avrohom, an important early work on the laws of Safrut written by one of the Levush's children, brings down (see here) sources that apparently award the fixer the Miztva of writing the scroll even if the scroll belongs to someone else - precisely the idea we expounded above. The Mei Yehuda also brings other important sources agreeing with this idea. Therefore, basing myself in this minority view, I can say that when I rewrote the Hey and validated the Shul's Torah, I somehow got the Mitzva of writing my own Sefer Torah!

But realistically speaking, if I want to fulfil this magnificent Mitzva properly, I have to continue writing my own Sefer Torah, and I'm still at it. Nevertheless, this incident was a good opportunity to expand on the concept of what invalidates a scroll, Chok Tochos, how to fix it and the significance of writing even one letter in a scroll - perhaps this can also explain, as the Mei Yehuda writes (here), why people are careful to write at least one letter before the Sofer completes a new Torah Scroll (see my original post on this here). Even a small letter matters and it can make a very big difference.

Column 4,5,6,7 of 214

After a long hiatus, an update about my progress.

I made a big mistake in this column... I skipped a line, luckily towards the end and I had to do some extensive scrapping - something I hate to do. I pushed it off for a while, but I finally got the job done. With one big aggravation; I made a small hole while scrapping.

On the bright side, I managed to write the Ayin around the hole and although cosmetically it's not ideal to have a hole in your parchment, I preferred not to give up on this yeriah. Sometimes you have to accept reality!

In this photo it is still missing the sheimos in the bottom part - I didn't forget that.

So other than this, the following four columns were pretty good. Some fixing is still warranted with minor mistakes but I didn't immediately notice anything major. Feel free to give feedback. As always, my writing is intentionally thick, and my lameds are intentionally long in their lower segment. And of course, I leave the Tagim for later.

Chazak veEmatz
YK

Column 3 of 214

Column 2 of 214

Time to update and post here my progress. I fixed a mistake in the line that starts with Hashem Elohim - BH the fixing didn't leave marks and it's a very nice Amud overall.

Book Review: Sacred Monsters by N. Slifkin

As I was writing Parshat Bereishit in my ongoing Sefer Torah project, one theme stood out from the story of creation: the Bnei Elohim. The Torah says:

6:2 That the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose.

6:3 And the LORD said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh: yet his days shall be an hundred and twenty years.

6:4 There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown.

The Torah seems to speak negatively of these "sons of God". I quickly realized that although I learn this Parsha every year since I'm a small kid, I never really stopped to think about this.

I suppose my teachers in school intentionally didn't spend much time exploring who these people were. I was told by a very knowledgeable educator that specifically today, in times where Lord of the Rings and other fantasy stories are so popular, there is a point not to explore the theme of giants and unusual creatures mentioned in the Torah. Many educators are afraid kids will start looking at Torah as just another fantasy book, cv"s. 

But even worst than confusing the Torah with fantasy books, kids can find many cartoons and movies inspired in Biblical stories that are visually stunning and often have their own takes on some creatures of the Torah. Most notably, as I a started writing Parshat Noach a few weeks ago, Hollywood released "Noah", a blockbuster movie loosely inspired in the story of Noach. 

Hollywood's Bnei Elohim

These movies can be actually even more dangerous for our kids since they always take artistic license and make up a whole bunch of things. Specifically in "Noah", the film, the Bnei Elohim are depicted as stone monsters made of light, with seven hands (see picture). If we don't teach the "giants" theme for our kids in school, I would say that they should equally not be exposed to cartoons and movies based on Torah stories. 

But not everyone agrees with this mindset. Recently, a Rabbi launched a successful Kickstarter campaign to raise funds for a fantasy book for kids based on the Torah, with the argument that Jewish-fantasy books can be a good alternative to kids who like to read Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. I disagree. 

So I decided to look for somebody that would shed light in the concept of giants like Bnei Elohim and Og but I found very little resources. The best one I've come across is Sacred Monsters, by Rabbi Natan Slifkin aka Zoo Rabbi. 

For the unninitiated, Rabbi Slifkin was in the epicenter of a huge theological feud a few years ago. He wrote about Creation and how to reconcile the Torah's account with science, based of classical Jewish commentators. Although he got an endorsement from the very respected Rosh Yeshiva of Philadelphia, his book became subject to virulent attacks from a segment of the Haredi world that rejects scientific reconciliation with Torah. I was learning in Ner Yisrael at the time and my Rosh Yeshiva, Rabbi Aharon Feldman, was a very important figure in this debate. Click here for Rabbi Slifkin's own link list of this controversy.

Be it as it may, Sacred Monsters is a very open and honest discussion about how we should look at the many unusual and strange creatures mentioned in the Torah. Rabbi Slifkin uses a scientific approach and is not afraid of asking questions nor shy to offer unusual answers. 

Og as a real super giant

Rabbi Slifkin discusses how big were the giants mentioned in the Torah. According to some, they were literarily hundeds of meters tall. But he also mentions the Rambam, who says that Og was probably not taller than 5 meters since it's organically impossible to be taller than that. 

Rabbi Slifkin brings many examples of modern day "giants" that measure over 3 meters and notes that the Rambam's estimation would indeed make sense from a scientific point of view. 

Although the book does mention other giants and also the very tall Moshe Rabbeinu, I was disappointed not to see a specific discussion of the Bnei Elohim. After all, they were the first giants mentioned in the Torah and the forebearers of Og. 

After reading almost the entire book, I leave with a feeling that we know very little about most of the unusual creatures of the Torah. There are opinions  that offer some plausible possibilities and Rabbi Slifkin often broadens the discussion bringing in achademics and zoologists, but from the classical Jewish commentators there are many gaps and speculation. 

I do think the book is an excellent resource and introduction guide for those who want to know the a little of everything. It did kind of leave me with even more questions than before but that's not necessarily a bad thing!

Column 1 of 214

I will be posting each column here, and I'm happy to hear feedback. In the third day, it's missing a few words, which I will complete soon. Also some blurbs of ink here and there, but all in all I'm happy I got to this first milestone.
Although in the picture it looks like everything it's slanted that's an illusion - if you zoom you can see the sirtut.
I had difficulty in the beginning but now my writing is going smooth, specially in the second half of the column. I perfected my Aleph in that section, which now is more straight (I want to avoid "wavy" Alephs; I prefer straight lines).
Shabbat Shalom

Writing on Red Gvil!

My posts are usually concise write-ups about Halacha discussions. This post is different - an open and honest account of my first time writing in Gevil parchement, opposed to the standard Klaf parchement used in all scrolls today. 


For quite a few months already, I have had this obsession of getting a Gvil to write on. It's really difficult to purchase one - I tried Mea Shearim safrut stores, Machon Gvil, fellow Sofrim, to no avail. I eventually saw Binyamin's posts about writing in a Yemnite-style red gvil and I asked him for assistance. He said he would send me a sample so I can have an idea, but being that he is a busy man, many months have passed and I gave up on it.


Just before Pessach I received this tube from the mail with a small but beautiful red gvil, a bottle of carbon ink, a very good reed and a note from Binyamin, excusing himself for the delay. No need to excuse - you made my day.

It turns out that the small piece of Gvil was perfect for a Menorah-shaped Lamnatzeach, which I spoke about in depth in my last post. As we have seen, this is a kabbalistic piece with a very specific connection to Sefirat Haomer, so the timing was perfect - I wrote it just before Pessach.


So I made the sirtut, evenly spaced and couldn't wait to start writing. Although I had a carbon-ink of my own - DioLanetzach - I wrote with Binyomin's ink as he advised me. After all, I know absolutly nothing about this parchement so I prefer not to take risks.


I start writing. The letters are all smudging and i can't get it right. I was sure I messed up this Gvil, which I waited so long to write on. But you will not believe what was my mistake - I'm even embarassed to admit. Well... being that I always wrote on klaf, I always instinctivaly take the klaf and start writing in the inside side - i don't even think. In my rush to get the Lamnatzeach ready, I did the stupiedest mistake possible - I wrote in the klaf-like side of the Gvil, which is the wrong one. I knew that. You must write in the outside layer, which in this klaf is super shiny and sooth. That's what I call starting with the left foot.


So I turn the gvil and must start doing all the sirtut again! Duh! But once I start writing - in the correct side - it all feels right. The ink flows well, the reed is steady and most importantly, the Gvil is unbelievably smooth and pleasant to write on. I couldn't stop thinking how cool it was to write in the way Moshe Rabbeinu wrote his Torah Scolls (yes, he used Gevil). The less strentgh you apply, the better is the result. As I had absolutly no training for writing in this way, I was learning as I was writing. It was similar to writing in Klaf but not the same. To illustrate the difference, it's like playing tennis in clay and then playing in a hard court. You must adjust your swing and many plays come out differently. In short:

• The Gvil is very shiny and in my opinion, more beautiful than the Klaf. The redness of this Gvil gives that “deluxe” feeling that is hard to match.
• The parchment is incredibly smooth. Perhaps because of how the leather treated, I’m not sure, but this feature really stands out.
• Also, the actual writing must be done in a much more smooth way, almost like painting a canvas. You need simple, precise strokes and unlike the klaf, you rarely need to add ink in the letters or work on them too much.
• I wrote with a thin bamboo reed and it was tricky to get the flow of the ink right. I eventually adapted and found my way, but again, the actual cutting of the reed differs from feather.
• The letters dry in a matter of seconds, while in the Klaf it can take more than a few minutes.
• The reed is not as sharp as a feather and the writing has a simpler look, with less details and strokes. For instance, I could only make simple, bare Taguin, as opposed to the usual Zayin-shaped Tagim.
• Overall, I would say it’s easier to write in Gvil with a reed because the writing flows easier and you can write quicker.

It was late in the night already but I managed to finish the work. But I had one big mistake - I forgot the Yud of Elokim, one of the names of Hashem. Aside from that the symmetry of the Menorah wasn't perfect and I wanted to correct a few words to make it right.

But how do you erase a letter?? Hum.. scraping I thought. So I tried to scrape a small extra Tag I made by mistake and I immediatly see that this ruins the parchement and makes re-writing on it impossible. I email Binyomim and he says to erase with cottom-bud and water. Water! The #1 enemy of the Klaf is used to fix mistakes in the Gvil - intriguing. And by then I'm thankul I didn't use Dio Lanetzach, which is water resistant and therefore unusuble in Gevil! As mentioned in the Keset Hasofer, you are alowed to erase the Mem Sofit from the word Elokim and rewrite the forgotten Yud + a new Mem since this word is not a Shem if it has no Yud. The erasing was easy and re-writing is very easy and quick, unlike in Klaf which takes work and very much attention. Below, the pics I took before my corrections:

Ktav Ari

Check my previous post on the different Ashurit scripts before reading this one.

The Ktav Ari is one of Safrut's most fascinating topics for me. Actually, the Arizal in general always fascinated me, as few other individuals have impacted Judaism as much as he did.

First, it's important to understand who he was. Here is Wikipedia's take on him:

He was born in Jerusalem^[1] in 1534 to an Ashkenazi father, Solomon, and a Sephardic mother;^[6] died at Safed, Ottoman Empire controlled land of Israel July 25, 1572 (5 Av 5332). While still a child he lost his father, and was brought up by his rich uncle Mordechai Frances, on his mother's side, atax-farmer out of Cairo, Egypt.

At the age of fifteen he married his cousin and, being amply provided for financially, was able to continue his studies. Though he initially may have pursued a career in business, he soon turned to asceticism and mysticism. About the age of twenty-two years old he became engrossed in the study of the Zohar, a major work of the Kabbalah that had recently been printed for the first time, and adopted the life of a recluse. He retreated to the banks of the Nile, and for seven years secluded himself in an

isolated cottage, giving himself up entirely to meditation. He visited his family only on the Shabbat, speaking very seldom, and always in Hebrew.

The Ari passed away at the early age of 38 but his teachings changed Judaism in an unprecedented manner.

Until his time, there were two scripts - Veillish and Beit Yosef. In fact, the Beit Yosef lived in the same town as the Ari and was that generation's main posek.

The Ari introduced a new script that wasn't entirely "new". He made a mix of the Veillish and Beit Yosef, a new Ktav that incorporated characteristics of both scripts. Namely, he incorporated the "inverted Tzadi" from Veillish but also the Ashkenazi Peh. He did introduce some very subtle novel details based on his Kabbalistic teachings, but all in all, the major change was the inverted Tzadi. And he was heavily criticized for that "change".

Perhaps he was inspired by his hibrid Ashkenazi/Sephardic upbringing to make this new "intermediary" ktav. The Ari believed his generation needed some specific "Tikkunim" and he adapted the way we write our holy scrolls to achieve these mysterious Tikkunim. For instance, the white Bet inside the Peh, the Chaf within the Shin and the Chet comprised of a Vav and a Nun. But above all, he instructed scribes to write the Shem Hashem in a very unique and difficult way - in parts - based on the Zohar. All these are very subtle details that are inspired by his Kabbalistic teachings and he sought to perpetuate them in his Ktav - the Ktav Ari.

The Ari's changes were recorded by his student Rabbi Chaim Vital and it was clearly intended to be used only when writing Tefillin. But why only in Tefillin? That's subject to debate, but the most compelling reason I've heard is that changes motivated by Kabbalistic reasons shouldn't be evident when a person reads a scroll. It's ok to make a change that is subtle and hidden but to do it in a Torah Scroll, for instance, would be too evident and undesirable. The parshiot of Tefillin, in the other hand, are always hidden and if a scribe makes special details in it nobody will actually realize. That's why the Ari was very specific about using his Kabbalah-inspired Ktav only in Tefillin.

You are surely thinking "what about Mezuza?", after all the Mezuza is also hidden. I haven't heard a very good answer but I have my own speculation. Even though the Mezuza is hidden, the word Sha-dai is always visible (it should be, at least in theory) and you would be able to notice that the Ari Shin is different than the usual one.

Be it as it may, the Chassidic scribes always wrote Tefillins with the Ktav Ari - that custom was universally accepted by them. I don't know if that was the case with Sephardic Jews. I do know that the non-Chassidic Ashkenazi Jews never adopted the Ktav Ari in the scrolls.

It's hard to pin point an exact date, but slowly the Chassidic scribes started to use the Ktav Ari in Mezuzot and even Sifrei Torah, and today virtually all Chassidic sects have Ktav Ari Sifrei Torah in the Synagogues. It's hard to understand what's their justification as the Ari clearly did not intend to change the way Mezuzot and Torahs are written. In fact, I would bet that the Ari's own Sefer Torah was written in either Veillish or Ktav Ashurit; not Ktav Ari.

One Chassidic Rabbi was very critical of this practice - the holy Divrei Yatziv of Zanz (make sure you read about his remarkable life story on wikipedia). He had a special Kisharon for Halachot pertaining to Safrut (for instance, he figured out a revolutionary way to make the Batim of the Tefillin - but that's a topic for another post) and was very much against the use of Ktav Ari in Sifrei Torah, even for writing the Shem Hashem.

But Minhag Israel Torah and there's Halachic backing for writing Torahs with the Ktav Ari. The Mishnat Avraham (source) says that there's no problem to write Torah Scrolls with the Ktav Ari and bless the scribes who do it - "Tavo Alav Bracha". And he brings an Halachic justification for it: the Sefer Torah should be written in the same way Tefillin are, because if you write Tefillin with Ktav Ari and Torahs with Ktav Beit Yosef this will cause a Tartei DeSatrei (contradiction) when a person gets an Aliyah. Tartei DeSatrei is a well-established Halacha argument and perhaps this is why Chassidic Sofrim started to write all holy scrolls in Ktav Ari - even Megillat Esther.

The question is what should I do when I start writing my Torah (yes, I plan to start it very soon). Ktav Ari or Beit Yosef?

My teacher writes Sifrei Torah in Ktav Ari and when he is commissioned to write a Torah in Ktav Beit Yosef he writes the Shem Hashem according to the Ari but makes sure this is not evident (he is afraid the commisioners might realize and dissaprove it..). I found that the Kol Yaakov mentions here that this was the Minhag of the scribes of his city, Baghdad.

At first I was thinking I would do the same, but I recently realized it wouldn't make sense to do that in my case. Here's why:

Although I'm not really Chassidic, my father's name is Yekutiel Yehuda - the name of the Divrei Yatziv of Zanz - after my grandfather's father and my grandmother was born in Cluj/Klausenburg, the town where the Divrei Yatziv lived. The Tefillin I wear each and every day was written by a far away relative who lives in Netanya and is a Zanz Chassid. And on top of that, I married into a family of Zanz sympathizers, having a Sheva Brachot in Netanya hosted by the current Rebbe of Zanz. It's crucial to follow a Mesora (tradition) otherwise a scribe can get lost in  all the different customs and nuances of Sta"m, so I have always followed the directives of the Rebbe of Zanz in regards to Safrut - I highly recommend his newly published Sefer on the Halachot of Sta"m, a book I always come back to.

My Progress #4: Megillat Shir Hashirim

I finally managed to finish my Megillat Shir Hashirim, which took some 4 months to write. I had a very tough time writing this one since the klaf was quite bad, specially in the very first column, and this dragged the process more since I couldn't write as fast as usual.

This highlights how important it is to look for top-quality klaf; if you can't get it, wait until you find a good one. I couldn't erase mistakes properly and I even did the capital sin of a Sofer - I made a small hole while trying to correct something. It doesn't matter so much since I managed to "place it" just in between two words - look in the last line of the forth column.

Additionally, I used a computerized Tikkun (from which I copy the Megilla layout) which was awful - I was forced to stretch and squash words in almost every line. Now I know: only buy copies of hand-written Tikkunim.

But Shir Hashirim is fun to write, since I can use it every week (there's a minhag of reciting it every Shabbat-eve) and it's shorter than Megillat Esther. Now my next project is to write a large Mezuza - stay tuned!

My Progress #2 - Another Pitum Haketoret

After my first work, I had to write a second Pitum Haketoret because my father needed one. The hand-writing is much nicer and finer than the first one, but I had to correct a few mistakes here and there, so there's minor scrapping. And I commited the capital sin of a Sofer - I accidentaly dropped water on it, which causes irreversable damage. Luckily, it fell in the bottom of the Klaf and I just cut it off.

Like the first, this one is big - 42 lines, just like a Sefer Torah. Most people have pocket-sized Pitum Haketoret today, since it's easier to carry, but I much prefer it big. The rabbis say that it's a very big Segula for Parnassah to say this every day, so I figured that the bigger the Pitum Haketoret is the more $ you will get!