Tashlikh

The Rama (Cracow, 1520-1572) writes (on the Shulchan Arukh, Orah Chayyim, 583:2) that on Rosh Hashanah people go to the rivers and recite the verse from Micah (7:19) "G-d should cast into the depths of the seas all their sins." The word for casting in Hebrew is tashlikh and this has become the name of this custom. However, the Rama only briefly mentioned the custom and he left out (probably purposely) the main element in the custom, which is the throwing of food to the fish.

Jacob Lauterbach (1873-1942) has a very lengthy review of the tashlikh custom. He quotes (1936, reprinted in 1973, p.389) from a convert, John Pfefferkorn (1469-1521) who wrote that "the people would come to near the water, shake their garments, (in which they carried their food) and, throwing the food into the water, they would cry out to the fish, 'We throw our sins to you." Pfefferkorn also did woodcuts of the ceremony and he shows the same idea of people throwing food into the war to the fishes. Lauterbach notes that another convert, Anthonius Margaritha gave a similar description of tashlikh in 1530.

The custom is first mentioned by the Maharil (R. Yaakov ben Moshe Levi Moelin, Germany, 1365-1427, Laws of Rosh Hashanah) and he writes that after the meal on Rosh Hashanah, people go to a river and recite the verse of Micah 7:19. Lauterbach (p.385) suggests that the timing of doing tashlikh after the meal was because people took the leftover food from the meal to throw to the fish. However, the Maharil writes that one should not throw food to the fish. From this statement, we see that the custom was in fact to throw food to the fish. (This is how I remember the custom when growing up in West Hempstead, Long Island in the early 1970s.)

It is not clear why the Maharil did not accept the custom of throwing food to the fish. The Maharil writes that throwing food to the fish violates the laws of carrying on the festivals and of feeding animals that are not yours. However, there is no prohibition of carrying on the festival if the carrying is for the festival and here the carrying of food is to fulfill the custom of the festival, which makes it permissible. With regard to feeding animals, the Shulchan Arukh (497:2) rules that on yom tov cannot feed fish, birds and animals that are not your own since you might come to catch them. The Mishnah Berurah (497:5) comments that it is only forbidden to feed the animals by placing the food right in front of them but if one puts the food a little away from them and they come on their own to get the food it is permitted. Thus, by tashlikh on yom tov there is no prohibition of feeding the fish since the person is not intending to catch the fish and the fish come up from the water to get the food (usually bread and crumbs).

It is possible that the Maharil, who lived before the Shulchan Arukh, did not accept the Shulchan Arukh's ruling on feeding animals, but more likely his two reasons were a cover, and he had another reason which he did not want to publicize. Daniel Sperber (1995, p.121) makes the interesting suggestion that the fear was that Christians would seize upon the throwing of food into the river as a pretense to claim that the Jews were poisoning the water. Another possibility is that the practice of throwing food to the fish was copying a Christian practice, as Lauterbach (p.429, also noted by Sperber, p.119) writes that Petrarch recorded a ceremony exactly like tashlikh done by Christians in Cologne, Germany in the 14th century. (Who copied who?) A third possibility is that the Maharil was trying to minimize the custom since the going to the river and hanging around to feed the fish led to the intermingling of men and women, see Arukh Hashulchan (583:4), who as much later time period, end of the 19th century, was concerned about this issue.

Due to the rabbinic protestations against the custom of throwing food to the fish and in some places the lack of water with fish, the custom of tashlikh has evolved into various forms. One practice is to continue the initial custom of reciting the verses and throwing food to the fish. I believe this practice is still prevalent in the Diaspora. Two, amongst Sefardim and many in Israel, one just looks at some body of water and recites the verses, without throwing any food into the water. This body of water can be water from a faucet, a hose, a fountain or a water tower, where one does not see the water but knows that there is water inside. Within this variation, some people make an effort to go to a body of water that have fish, but they do not throw food to the fish. A third variation is that one goes to the water, recites the verses, and empties one's pockets. This emptying of the pockets is clearly the idea of taking the crumbs out of the pockets to feed the fish, but today most people's pockets are clean, so they are just shaking out empty pockets. A fourth variation, which I have never seen, is quoted by Lauterbach (pp.399, 411) that people in Tangiers in 17th century and people from Kurdistan in the 19th century, actually jumped into the war themselves! Finally, it is quoted (Ma'aseh Rav) that the Gra (1720-1797) did not do tashlikh at all, and the Arukh Hashulchan (583:4) writes that many people do not do this custom.

What is the reason for the custom of tashlikh? The Maharil (quoted in Mishnah Berurah 583:8) writes that it is to recall a miracle that G-d did for Avraham on the way to the akedah. According to the Midrash, which was written before the custom of tashlikh existed, the devil tried to block Avraham from going to do the akedah by becoming a raging river, but G-d did a miracle to dry up the river (the devil). This rationale for tashlikh is very strange. Why should we want to go to a river since that represents the devil? With this logic one should do tashlikh by a dry place. However, we need to remember that the Maharil was not trying to explain the real custom but was trying to find a reason for his desired change in the custom that people would just go to the river and not throw food into the river.

The Rama in his commentary on the Tur, the Darkei Moshe, which he wrote before his commentary on the Shulchan Arukh, gives another reason for the custom. In the Darkei Moshe (583), he quotes from R. Isaac Tyrnau (contemporary of the Maharil, Sefer ha-Minhagim) that the point was to see fish, which somehow is a sign that the evil eye will not look upon us (do not really understand) since it does not look upon the fish (not sure why not). The Rama in a different book, Torat ha-Olah 3:56 (quoted in Sperber, p.120) gives another reason that by going to the river this reminds one of G-d's majesty. This rationale is obviously problematic for one who fulfills the custom of tashlikh by turning on a faucet. For other reasons and more sources on this custom, see Rabbi Ari Zivotosky's fascinating review of the custom in Jewish Action, Fall 5768/ 2007, pp. 62-65, http://www.ou.org/torah/article/tzarich_iyun_tashlich

All these reasons are difficult since they are not explaining the real custom of throwing food to the fish, but the real custom has a simple explanation. On Yom Kippur, a major part of the ritual was for the high priest to transfer the sins of the people to a goat which was sent into the desert, Vayikra 16:21,22. This ceremony ended with the destruction of the Bet ha-Mikdash, but because this was such an important part of the ritual of the day, people wanted to continue it in some other forms and tashlikh is one of these attempts. Thus, the food, which symbolizes the sins, is sent to the fish who will take the sins far away. The Magen Avraham (1635-1682, 583:5) notes that it is best to do tashlikh outside the city, which is the idea of sending the sins far away. This understanding of the custom is not novel. It is exactly the meaning of the verse that is recited by tashlikh, Micah 7:19, to send the sins to the depths of the sea. Lauterbach (pp.397-399) quotes even two non-Jews from the 17th century who write that the custom was to carry the sins off "just like the scapegoat of old." With this understanding one should not do tashlikh by feeding fish in a home aquarium since then the sins stay at home.

Yet, the sending away of the sins is on Yom Kippur, why is this ceremony done on Rosh Hashanah? The answer is that there exists another custom, kapparot, which has the same symbolism to send away the sins, see our post Kapparot, http://www.lobashamayim.blogspot.co.il/2011/10/kapparot. Yet, kapparot is the older custom and is done on erev Yom Kippur, so why was another custom added which has the same meaning? To answer this question, we need to determine when the custom of tashlikh began.

The Maharil was the first person to quote the custom of tashlikh, which suggests that the custom began in his lifetime or shortly beforehand. Lauterbach (p.429) notes that people have made this argument but he thinks they are deluded. Yet, I think the argument is correct since the Tur (1269-1343?) who lived prior to the Maharil, quotes all Ashkenazi customs in his book, the Tur, but he does not refer to the custom of tashlikh. This strongly implies that he was not aware of the custom since it did not exist.

Why did the custom begin around the 14th century? I believe that there are two possible complementary answers. One, Rosh Hashanah is considered the day of judgment, and hence there developed the idea that people need to remove their sins by Rosh Hashanah and not wait until Yom Kippur. Two, the 14th century was a very difficult period for the Jews. The Black Plague killed off 50-60% of the population of Western Europe, and in the ensuing anti-Semitism, more Jews were killed since they were blamed for causing the plague. Thus, life began to be viewed as being very tenuous, even more so than before, and this created a need to do everything possible to be judged favorably. Tashlikh was an answer to this need since this was a symbolic act to hopefully increase one's chances of living. Note the Maharil was also the first person to quote the idea that one has to do kapparot for a fetus (see Darkei Moshe 505) which again is the idea of doing everything to ensure that G-d would judge the unborn child (who could not even have sinned) favorably.

Tashlikh became a crucial part of Rosh Hashanah, and then there developed the problem of what to do when the first day of Rosh Hashanah is on Shabbat because then there is truly a problem of carrying the food to the river. There would be no problem of carrying if the river was within the eruv (theoretical door frames that allow one to carry), but not all places had eruvs and as mentioned above tashlikh was usually done outside the city, which would be outside the eruv. This problem must have arisen almost immediately with the development of the custom, but Lauterbach (p.420) writes that R. Jehiel M. Epstein, the author of the Kitzur Shnei Luchot ha-Brit (end of 17th century) was the first person to discuss this problem, some 200-300 years after the custom started. R. Jehiel M. Epstein argued that when the first day of Rosh Hashanah was on Shabbat, tashlikh should be pushed off to Sunday, the second day of Rosh Hashanah. Lauterbach notes that R. Jehiel M. Epstein also objected to the "popular" idea that by tashlikh one throws away one's sins, so then for him it was not difficult to move the day. However, for those people who accepted the symbolism of tashlikh, it was very important to have tashlikh on the first day.

In 1725, the first day of Rosh Hashanah was on Shabbat and R. Jacob Riescher (Shvut Yaakov 3:42) argued that one should do tashlikh on the first day and that the Maharil allowed tashlikh on Shabbat. Yet, what about the prohibition of carrying on Shabbat? One could claim that the proponents of doing tashlikh on Shabbat were only maintaining that one should recite verses by the river and these verses could be memorized. Yet, again the practice was to throw food to the fish, so how could one carry the food to the river? Maybe the people usually threw food, but when the first day of Rosh Hashanah was on Shabbat then tashlikh was done without throwing food. Another possibility is that in his discussion of tashlikh, the Maharil writes that one should not take food from a non-Jewish person who was by the river. Lauterbach (p.386) notes that the non-Jew's presence by the river was surely no accident, and this suggests that on Shabbat the people would have non-Jews bring the food for them to throw into the water. If this is true, then it is quite amazing that we do not blow the shofar on Shabbat due to fear of carrying, but people would continue to do tashlikh on Shabbat. (With regard to throwing the food into the water, this would be from a carmelit (the edge of the river, see Mishnah Berurah, 301:176) to a carmelit (the river) less than four amot, which is permitted, see Shulchan Arukh 346:2. Even if the water would take the food further away, this would be coah (power) of the carmelit which is permitted see Shulchan Arukh, 355:1)

The Mishnah Berurah (583:7, end of 19th century, beginning of the 20th century) writes that he saw that in some places tashlikh was done on the second day of Rosh Hashanah when the first day falls on Shabbat because of the problem of carrying the machzor, but he does not refer to problem of bringing food to the river. The implication of his words (a few places) is that still in his time most people did tashlikh on the first day of Rosh Hashanah even when it was on Shabbat, see also Shaarei Tshuvah 583:10 (R. Chaim Mordechai Margoliot, 19th century). My impression is that today most people do tashlikh on the second day of Rosh Hashanah when the first day of Rosh Hashanah is on Shabbat.

In conclusion, the custom of tashlikh developed around the 14th century, and the initial custom was to throw food to the fish. This was thought to symbolically remove one's sins in order that a person would be judged favorably on Rosh Hashanah. This became such an intrinsic part of the day that even when the first day of Rosh Hashanah was on Shabbat, initially many people still did tashlikh, possibly by having a non-Jewish person bring them the food to throw.

Devarim (Ki Teitzei) 21:18-21 – The defiant son?

Devarim 21:18-21 record that parents can take their son to the elders of a city, claim that he is being disobedient and then all the people of the city are to stone the boy to death. This law is very troubling. How could the Torah allow parents to be so cruel to their children? Furthermore, why is the law just by sons and not by daughters? Also, 21:18 records that the problem is that the son is not listening to the parents, but then 21:20 adds that the parents have to also claim that their son is a "glutton and a drunkard." What is the need for this additional claim? Is the boy being killed for eating and drinking too much?

Tigay (1996, p. 196) writes "the law seeks to deter filial insubordination, but by requiring that the case be judged by the elders, it also places limits on parental authority, as does the previous law." Similarly, Barry Eichler (2010, p. 451) writes, "the essential purpose of the Torah is to protect the child from the absolute and capricious authority of the father even as it seeks to strengthen parental authority by deterring filial insubordination." According to these scholars, the law has two goals, limiting the power of the parents, and deterring rebellious children, but these goals are contradictory. If the power of the parents is limited, then this encourages children to be more insubordinate. Furthermore, how is the power of the parents limited if they can have their son killed?

Eichler reviews several laws in ancient times to show "that patriarchal authority over one's wife and minor children was a potent force in ancient Near Eastern societies." We see this absolute power in the Torah by the story of Yosef. When the brothers of Yosef returned without Shimon and told Yaakov that they could only return to Egypt if they brought Binyamin with them, Reuven offered to kill his two sons if he did not bring Binyamin back to Yaakov (Bereshit 42:37). How could Reuven offer to kill his sons? What had they done to deserve to die? The answer is that it appears that in biblical times the parents had absolute power over their children and could kill their kids without even having to make any claims.

Accordingly, since Devarim 21:20 requires the parents to speak to the elders and to explain why they want to have their son killed, this law is a limitation on their powers. The elders do not appear to act as judges, but just the requirement to make a public declaration has the potential to stop the parents from acting capriciously. Furthermore, as noted by Tigay (p.197) the parents do not participate in the stoning, which means the parents must be convincing enough that the other people of the city are willing to stone their son.

This need to prove the parent's claim might be the reason why the parents have to also state that their son is a glutton and a drunkard. Other people cannot really determine if a son is listening to his parents, but they can observe him to see if he is a glutton and drunkard. The boy is not being killed for drinking and eating excessively, but this is the minimal proof that is needed to convince people to accept the parent's claim that their son is not listening to them. Relatively speaking this minimal proof was significant since in those days no proof was needed at all for parents to kill their sons for disobedience.

Therefore, the point of the law was only to limit the powers of the parents. Even though the Torah allows the parents to have their son killed, still in the context of the absolute power wielded by parents in ancient times, the law limits their powers in some ways. In addition, maybe there was only a need to limit the powers of parents in reference to disobedient sons and not daughters, if in those days daughters were not sufficiently independent to rebel to the extent that parents would want to kill them.

If the Torah was trying to reduce the power of parents over their children, why did the Torah not just abolish the power altogether? The answer to this question follows the Rambam's (Moreh 3:32, see also our discussions on Shemot 20:3 "Other gods," and Bemidbar 15:32-36 "Sticks and stones") explanation as to why the Torah commands people to offer sacrifice even though according to the Rambam, G-d does not really desire sacrifices, that the Rambam argues that in those days people could not conceive of a religion not having sacrifices. Similarly, in those days the culture was so ingrained that parents have absolute powers over their children that the most the Torah could do was to limit these powers.

This idea can explain the development of this law in the rabbinic period. While some opinions (Mishnah, Sanhedrin 8:5, R. Yose ha-Galili, Sanhedrin 72a, quoted in Rashi on 21:18) attempted to justify the killing of the son that it was better for him to die innocent than to be guilty of real crimes later on, other Rabbis effectively neutralized the law by adding numerous conditions that it could never happen. For example, R. Yehuda (Sanhedrin 71a) stated that the son can only be judged a disobedient son if the voice, looks and heights of both parents are equal. Why did the Rabbis add these conditions to abrogate the biblical law? The answer might be that they realized that the Torah was trying to limit the power of the parents, but could not completely end this practice due to the cultural background of the people. However, when the Rabbis realized that people were able to accept that parents do not have complete absolute power over their children, then they added these conditions to end this ability of parents to kill their children.

Devarim 9:9-10:10 (Ekev) – One hundred and twenty days on high?

How many times did Moshe go up on Mount Sinai after the Decalogue and for how long did he go each time? Also, were these ascents consecutive or was there a break between them?

The book of Shemot seems to record that Moshe went up three times to Mount Sinai. Shemot 24:16,18 record that Moshe went up to Mount Sinai for forty days, and then Shemot 32:15 records that Moshe came down with the tablets. Afterwards, Shemot 33:20 (see Rashi on Devarim 9:18) seems to imply that Moshe went up a second time to Mount Sinai, but there is no mention for how long. Afterwards, Shemot 34:4,28 record that Moshe went up a third time for forty days.

The book of Devarim also seems to record that Moshe went up on Mount Sinai three times. Devarim 9:9,11 record that Moshe went up on Mount Sinai to get the first set of tablets. Afterwards, Devarim 9:18, 25 record that Moshe prayed for forty days, but it does not record that Moshe went up on Mount Sinai. Rashi (on 9:25) explains that 9:25 does not refer to a new set of 40 days but refers back to the second set of 40 days. This would be a case of resumptive repetition, where the text repeats itself to resume the narrative. Moshe had been discussing the sin of the golden calf from 9:8-21, but then he digressed to mention other sins of the people beside the golden calf, 9:22-24, so the text repeated itself to return to the incident of the golden calf, 9:25. Afterwards Devarim 10:1 records that Moshe was to go up to Mount Sinai to get the second set of tablets, but there is no mention for how long. This ascent corresponds to the third ascent recorded in Shemot 34:4,28. The final reference to being on Mount Sinai is Devarim 10:10, which records that Moshe was on the mountain for forty days. One might be tempted to understand that the verse is referring to Moshe's ascent to get the second set of tablets since this verse is recorded after 10:1, but 10:10 also records that “that G-d agreed not to destroy the people,” which is in reference to Moshe's prayers in 9:25. This means the verse is referring to the second set of forty days. If this is true, then Devarim 10:10 implies that Moshe went up to Mount Sinai also by the second set of the forty days.

This reading of Shemot 33, 34 and Devarim 9, 10 indicates that Moshe went up to Mount Sinai three times, each time for forty days. Luzzatto (on 9:18) agrees that there were three sets of forty days, but he argues that for the middle forty days, Moshe was not on Mount Sinai since Devarim 9:18,25 do not record that Moshe went up to Mount Sinai. Luzzatto brings a proof from Shemot 33:7, which records that Moshe moved his tent outside the camp, and this means that Moshe was not on Mount Sinai. How does he understand Shemot 32:30? I did not see him comment on the verse. Maybe he understands that as Shemot 32:30 just records the words “go up” but no mention is made of Mount Sinai, then “go up” means to separate from the people, which Moshe did in Shemot 33:7, but not that to ascend the mountain. Luzzatto notes that Devarim 10:10 seems to contradict his approach, but argues that the verse refers to the last set of forty days.

I think the simple reading of Shemot 32:30 is that for the middle forty days, Moshe was on Mount Sinai, and this is also the implication of Devarim 10:10. 10:10 is a continuation of 9:25-29, and is another case of resumptive repetition. Moshe had digressed from the story of the sin of the golden calf to discuss the selection of the Levites, and 10:10 returns to the second set of forty days when Moshe prayed for the people after they had sinned by the golden calf. Accordingly, since 10:10 states that Moshe was on Mount Sinai, then this means that also by the second set of forty days Moshe went up on Mount Sinai. However, as Luzzatto argued Shemot 33:7 and the ensuing conversation, 33:12-23, between G-d and Moshe could not have been on Mount Sinai. Thus, I think there is a need to offer a different chronology.

My guess is that there was a break in between the second and third sets of forty days. After breaking the tablets, at the end of the first set of forty days, Devarim 9:11-17, Moshe went back up to Mount Sinai for a second time, as indicated by Shemot 32:30 and Devarim 10:10, and this ascent was for forty days as indicated by 9:18, 25 and 10:10. After this second set of forty days, Moshe pitched his tent outside the camp and had another conversation with G-d, 33:1-23, but this conversation was not on Mount Sinai. We do not know how long this conversation lasted, a week, a month? At the end of this conversation, Moshe went up to Mount Sinai again, Shemot 34:4 and Devarim 10:1. In Devarim, there is no record of how long this third ascent lasted, but from Shemot 34:28, we know it lasted another 40 days.

With this chronology, Moshe went up to Mount Sinai three times after the Decalogue, each time for forty days, but these ascents were not consecutive. I think this approach gives a consistent reading of the text in Shemot and Devarim. (However, this approach does not accord with the idea mentioned by Rashi on 9:18 that Moshe came down with the second set of tablets on Yom Kippur.)

Bemidbar (Numbers) 25:1-18, 32:2 - The war with Midyan: Kozbi

Bemidbar 25:1-3 records that the Jewish people sinned with the daughters of Moav, and G-d punished the people by sending a plague. The plague ended after Pinhas killed two of the brazen sinners, 25:6-8. 25:11-13 then records the rewards that Pinhas was to receive for his actions, and this apparently was the end of the incident. However, afterwards, 25:14,15 identifies the brazen sinners as Zimri, the son of Salu, a chieftain in the tribe of Shimon, and Kozbi, the daughter of one of the leaders of Midyan. The fact that the Torah identifies the sinners is not so unusual, but one would have thought that if the Torah was going to identify the sinners, then this would have occurred when they were first referred to in 25:6. Why initially did the Torah describe the sinners anonymously, and only after the episode was apparently over, did the Torah reveal their identity? (For some answers, see Ramban on 25:18 and Or ha-Chayyim on 25:14.)

My guess is that the Torah is trying to present the state of mind of Pinhas at the time when he acted. Just as the reader was unaware of the identity of the sinners until the episode was over, so too Pinhas was unaware of the sinner's identities when he acted. Moshe had ordered that the sinners were to be killed, 25:5, and Pinhas obeyed without inquiring who were the people sinning. This idea explain why the Torah initially presented the sinners anonymously, but then why is important for us to know their identity afterwards? The following verses suggest an answer.

25:16-18 record that G-d commanded the Jewish people to attack the Midyanites due to “the matter of Peor and the matter of Kozbi.” Is the “matter of Kozbi” identical with the events of Baal Peor? If yes, then why is it mentioned twice?

Ibn Ezra (on 25:18) suggests that 25:18 is listing two separate reasons why Midyan was to be attacked. One reason was for leading the people astray by Baal Peor and the second reason was that Midyan wanted to harm the people out of revenge for Kozbi's death, their Midyanite princess, because they blamed the Jewish people for her death. I understand this harm to mean that Midyan attacked the people after the events of Baal Peor.

A proof for this is that 25:18 uses the word, tsorerim, which implies ongoing hostility, see Milgrom, 1990, p.218. Furthermore, the Torah uses the same word, tsoror, assail, harass, when commanding the Jewish people to attack Midyan, 25:17. The double use of the same word implies that the attack was tit for tat, Midyan was to be attacked because they were attacking you. 25:18 could then be understood as “for they (Midyan) are attacking you with their craftiness (guerrilla warfare?), with which they were crafty with you in Baal Peor and in the matter of the death of Kozbi (that they blamed the Jewish people for her death).

In addition, when the command to fight Midyan is repeated in 31:2, the Torah records that the Jewish people are to take revenge on Midyan. Ibn Ezra (on 31:2) explains that the revenge is because Midyan caused the Jewish people to worship idolatry. Yet, Midyan did not force the people to commit idolatry. Instead, if Midyan had been attacking the people and were continuing to attack them, then it makes sense that the Jewish people were to seek revenge to stop these attacks.

This idea explains why the people were commanded to attack Midyan and not Moav who were also involved in the sins of Baal Peor. Rashi (on 25:18) explains that Moav was not to be attacked since Ruth was to come from Moav. Ramban (on 25:18) quotes a Midrash that Moav was not attacked since they had acted due to their fears while Midyan got involved in the sin of Baal Peor for no reason. Ramban also writes that Moav was protected due to their forefather Lot, as Devarim 2:9 records that G-d told Moshe the Jewish people could not fight with Moav. The idea that Midyan was attacking the Jewish people suggests another reason. Only Midyan was attacked since they attacked the Jewish people, while Moav was not attacked since they did not attack the Jewish people.

Finally, this idea also explains why Kozbi had to be identified. Midyan would only want to take revenge if the Jewish people had killed an important person, and from the identification of Kozbi we learn that she was a princess of Midyan. Thus, she is mentioned in 25:15 immediately prior to the command to attack Midyan, and the explanation that the command was due to the "matter of Kozbi." Therefore, had Torah not identified her we would not have understood why the Jewish people fought with Midyan.

We are left with the question why did Zimri have to be identified? Possibly once Kozbi was identified, then Zimri, her partner, was also mentioned.

My daughter, Talia, has suggested that Zimri was identified in order that Midyan should realize that Kozbi was not killed because she was a foreigner, but since she sinned, as a "high ranking" Jew, Zimri, was also killed. Thus, Zimri was identified to show that Midyan had no justification for their attacks on the Jewish people, and again the identification was recorded in conjunction with the command to attack Midyan, which was in response to the attacks from Midyan.

A third reason is that with the identification of Zimri we also learn that he was from one of the leading families of the tribe of Shimon, and then his death accorded with G-d's instruction to Moshe in 25:4, to kill the leaders of the people who were sinning. Moshe had not relayed this information to the people, 25:5, and hence when Pinhas acted he was consciously fulfilling Moshe's instructions and unintentionally G-d's instructions.

Bemidbar 15:32-36 - The wood-gatherer in the desert: Sticks and stones

Bemidbar 15:32-36 record the case of the wood gatherer. An anonymous person was found collecting wood on Shabbat and he was temporarily incarcerated since it was not known what was to be done with him. G-d then informed Moshe that the person was to be killed, and he was stoned to death.

This case raises several questions. What did the person do wrong? What is problematic about gathering wood? Why did Moshe (and Aharon) not know what to do with him? Also, was his crime so grave that he deserved to die?

The Talmud (Shabbat 96b) records three approaches to explain the person’s sin. Rav Yehuda in the name of Shmuel suggests that the person carried the wood four cubits in the public domain. An anonymous opinion (see Yerushalmi Sanhedrin 5:1) suggests that the person was found uprooting trees from the ground. And, three, Rav Aha the son of R. Yaakov suggests that the person was binding the wood/ branches together. With any of these explanations, the person was violating the Shabbat, and we understand why he was reported to Moshe. What then was Moshe’s confusion? The Talmud (Sanhedrin 78b) explains that Moshe knew the person was to die for his actions, but he did not how the person was to be killed. Thus, G-d told Moshe that he was to be stoned.

This approach from the Talmud is problematic. The idea that the person was uprooting trees or carrying does not fit the term gathering, as the Torah should have stated these specific infractions. The third idea, that the person was binding branches, could accord with the term gathering, but absence this case it would seem that the prohibition of binding is just by sheaves, which is part of the process of harvesting wheat. (See Shimon Eider, 1970, p. 80, who quotes the Minhat Hinuch who claimed that the Rambam held that the prohibition of gathering sheaves only applies to food.) Possibly for these reasons, Luzzatto (on 15:32) writes that really the person did not violate the prohibition of work on Shabbat, but that he was punished for acting brazenly.

In addition, the idea that Moshe was in doubt as to the method of execution seems forced. Why did G-d not inform Moshe of this fact when Moshe was told about the death penalty on Shabbat? Also, 15:35 records that first G-d told Moshe the person was to be killed, and afterwards the method of execution, which implies that initially Moshe did not know the person was to be killed.

Luzzatto’s approach is that the person did not violate any law of Shabbat, but what then did he do? Weingreen (1966) suggests that the case here is an example of making a fence around the Torah, as “the gathering of the wood on the Sabbath could have been construed as being a manifest prelude to the kindling of the fire.” (Kindling a fire is prohibited based on Shemot 35:3.) Weingreen explains that Moshe’s dilemma was whether this preparatory act was to be considered a violation of Shabbat and if yes, should it punished as severely as violations of the Shabbat? G-d’s answer to both questions was yes.

Gnana Robinson (1978) rejects Weingreen’s approach. She questions how the person could be punished so severely just for showing intent to violate a law, without actually violating the law. She suggests that the person was attempting to light a fire as part of idol worship and the gathering of the wood was part of the cultic act. She claims the death penalty was for idolatry and not for violating Shabbat. While this approach is possible, it leaves unexplained what was Moshe’s doubt as to the person’s guilt.

Milgrom (1990, p.37) claims the prohibition is the gathering itself, and this is derived from the prohibition of gathering the mahn on Shabbat, Shemot 16:22-30. Yet, the law by the mahn was unique since the mahn was a test of faith (see our discussion on Shemot 16:2-4, "A double test"), and hence it is not obvious that other cases can be extrapolated from the mahn, as maybe only gathering mahn was forbidden.

Weingreen’s approach is the most reasonable. Yet, still the death penalty seems very severe if the person only violated “a fence around the Torah.” My guess is that to understand this case, one has to speculate as to the motive of the person in gathering wood. Was this a hobby? Did the person want the wood to make a fire to cook? Both possibilities are doubtful. As noted by Ibn Ezra (on 15:2,32) and Luzzatto, it is more likely that the person was acting brazenly since the preceding section, 15:30,31, refers to brazen violations of the Torah, and cooking or just collecting wood would appear to be too insignificant to be considered brazen. I think one needs to combine Luzzatto’s comment with Weingreen’s approach.

Maybe the case was that the person was gathering the wood to build a bonfire, and this was evident by the quantity of wood that he gathered. Furthermore, the bonfire was to be a brazen demonstration that the person rejected the law prohibiting kindling a fire on Shabbat since the smoke would be seen and smelled by the entire nation. The gathering of a large quantity of wood demonstrated his intention to violate the Shabbat, and hence the people brought him to Moshe and Aharon. Most likely, this brazen act to desecrate the Shabbat was a rebellion against the Torah after the people were punished due to their initial refusal to enter the land of Israel (see Alter, 2004, p.759), and hence the episode ends with the entire population repudiating the person when they stoned him. (This could explain the significance of the opening phrase, the people were in the desert, in 15:32, see Ramban on 15:32.)

Following Weingreen, Moshe’s dilemma was whether the preparatory act of gathering the wood for the bonfire should be treated as a violation of an actual prohibition on Shabbat, and if yes, what should be the punishment? Usually a violation of a preparatory action would not entail death, but this was a unique case (see R. Yehuda, Sanhedrin 80b) due to the brazen nature of the bonfire. Thus, G-d told Moshe that the person was to be killed by stoning.

Death by stoning is a very common method of execution in the Torah (Vayikra 20:2,27, 24:14,23, Devarim 13:11, 17:5 and 21:21), but to modern minds it is considered barbaric. Yet in ancient times, it is likely that it was accepted as an appropriate method of execution. Gregory Clark (2007, p. 182) writes, "Earlier societies – the Babylonians, Greeks, Romans, Incas – seem remarkably similar to ours in many of their details of their daily life, except for one thing: the apparently insatiable blood lust of the ancients. The Romans seem the most depraved. Criminals were executed for sport in the Coliseum and smaller town amphitheaters, often after being burned, raped, gouged, mangled or mutilated." Furthermore, he records an observation by Samuel Pepys, from London on October 13, 1660, that a criminal was "hanged, drawn, and quartered... And after he was cut down, his head and heart were shown to the people who responded with great shouts of joy."

Why did the Torah not abolish death by stoning? Again we turn to the Rambam's (Moreh, 3:32) argument by sacrifices that G-d did/ does not really want sacrifices, but they had to be instituted since the people in those days could not conceive of worship without sacrifices. (Is this need for sacrifices also due to the lust for blood?) Maybe one could make the same argument by stoning. If a person had been killed by "just being" beheaded or hanged then the people would have thought that the criminal got off easy, and hence they would not have appreciated the seriousness of the person's action, as in this case, the brazen act of desecrating the Shabbat by the wood gatherer.

Bibliography:

Alter, Robert, 2004, The five books of Moses: A translation and commentary, New York: W. W. Norton and Company.

Clark, Gregory, 2007, A farewell to alms: A brief economic history of the world, Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Eider, Shimon, 1970, Halachos of Shabbos, 1-3, Spring Valley: Phillip Feldheim Inc.

Milgrom, Jacob, 1990, The JPS Torah Commentary: Numbers, Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society.

Robinson, Gnana, 1978, The Prohibition of Strange Fire in Ancient Israel: A New Look at the Case of Gathering Wood and Kindling Fire on the Sabbath, Vetus Testamentum, Vol. 28, July 1978, pp. 301-317.

Weingreen, J. 1966, "The case of the woodgatherer," Vetus Testamentum, 16, pp. 361-364.

Vayikra 23:9-22 (Emor) – On the morrow: When is the korban omer brought?

Vayikra 23:9-14 records the law to bring the omer sacrifice on the morrow of the Shabbat. Afterwards, 23:15-22 records that the fiftieth day from the bringing of the omer was a mikrei kodesh (the holiday of Shavuot) and other special sacrifices, two loaves, were to be brought. One question that concerns both sections in when is the omer sacrifice offered? When is "the morrow of the Shabbat?" Which Shabbat?

There are at least six different approaches to understanding the term "morrow of the Shabbat." One, the traditional view is that it means the day after the first day of chag ha-matzot, the 16th of Nisan. (In the Diaspora, this is the second day of Yom Tov, and in Israel the first day of chol ha-moed of Pesach.)

Two, the view of the Karaites, and possibly of the Boethusians, a sect in the time of the second Bet ha-Mikdash, that it means, the Sunday after the Saturday within chag ha-matzot. (If Pesach started on Saturday, then the Karaites, held the day was the second day of Pesach just like the traditional view.) 

Three, Shmuel Sprecher (1993) has suggested that the Boethusians held that the omer was brought on the second day of chag ha-matzot like the traditional view, but the count started on the Sunday after the Saturday within chag ha-matzot. 

Four, the omer was brought on the day after the last day of chag ha-matzot. (Apparently, this was the practice of Ethiopian Jews. David Hoffmann, 1953, vol.2, pp. 124-127, quotes several scholars who hold this view and claims that this is the view of the Targum Peshitta. However, Yeshayahu Maori (1995, pp. 176-178) claims the Peshitta follows the traditional view.) 

Five, the book of Jubilees, the Dead Sea Scrolls, and possibly the view of the Boethusians, the omer was to be brought on the first Sunday after chag ha-matzot. 

Six, the omer was brought on the first Sunday after the first reaping with no connection with chag ha-matzot.

The Talmud (Menahot 65a-66a) quotes many arguments for the traditional approach, but perhaps the most convincing proof is not mentioned in the Talmud. Yehoshua 5:11 records that when the Jewish people first came into the land of Israel even before the battle of Jericho, they ate bread and wheat on the day after the pesach sacrifice (see Rambam, Laws of regular and extra sacrifices, 7:8-10, and Hoffmann, pp. 134-136). The proof is that Vayikra 23:14 only allows one to eat the new grains after the omer sacrifice was brought, and in Yehoshua 5:11 it appears that the people ate the new wheat on the day after the pesach sacrifice, which means the omer was brought on the day after the pesach sacrifice.

This proof has several problems and it is telling that the Talmud did not mention it. One, according to Yehoshua 5:10, the pesach sacrifice was brought on the 14th of Nisan, which means the day after the sacrifice was the 15th of Nisan, and this does not match up with the traditional view, which is that the omer is to be brought on the 16th of Nisan. Two, Yehoshua 5:11,12 does not state that the people ate new grains, rather that they ate grains from the land of Israel and not the mahn. Three, the book of Yehoshua makes no mention that the people celebrated chag ha-matzot that year, and hence maybe that year was a special circumstance since there was only the pesach sacrifice. (On the other hand, if one claims that pesach also means chag ha-matzot, as is the common language today, then the day after pesach could be the day after chag ha-matzot, which is the fourth view.) Four, the case is unique for another reason. Usually people have old grain stored up, but presumably when the people just came to the land of Israel, they had no supplies of grain, and hence maybe once the mahn stopped, they had to be allowed to eat even new grain immediately.

The order of the festivals in chapter 23 strongly implies that the omer offering was to be brought after chag ha-matzot.  In the chapter, the Torah first records the festival of chag ha-matzot and then the bringing of the omer sacrifice.

In addition, in chapter 23, each festival is separated in the chapter by the verse, "G-d spoke to Moshe." Yet, with regard to the holiday of Shavuot there appears to be anomaly since this phrase does not appear by 23:15, which apparently begins the discussion of the laws of the day of Shavuot. N. Leibowitz (1980, pp. 218-223) quotes the Talmud and the Hinukh that there is no separating verse for Shavuot since Shavuot is a continuation of the holiday of Matzot since the goal of the exodus from Egypt was to receive the Torah at Mount Sinai. Yet, chapter 23 never alludes to the fact that the Torah was given on Shavuot. Furthermore, the phrase “G-d spoke to Moshe” appears between the laws of Pesach and the laws of Shavuot as it occurs prior to the verses that record the law of bringing the omer, 23:9.

The phrase "G-d spoke to Moshe" in 23:9 signals the beginning of the holiday of Shavuot. The holiday is a fifty day holiday, and only the last day is a mikra kodesh that one is forbidden to work, 23:21. The holiday starts with the bringing of the omer and after seven full weeks, it ended with the bringing of the two loaves. Shemot 23:16 refers to the holiday as one of reaping, and this reaping is referred to in Vayikra 23:10 by the bringing of the omer, which is the beginning of the festival. This idea accords with the name Shavuot a feast of weeks, as the holiday was for seven weeks. Similarly, Bemidbar 28:26 and Devarim 16:9-12 when discussing the festival of Shavuot refers to weeks prior to the day of Shavuot, again because the holiday is for fifty days. This understanding nullifies the first three explanations of the term "on the morrow" since it cannot be that the fifty day holiday of Shavuot started in the middle of the holiday of matzot.

This same idea that the fifty days of Shavuot begins after chag ha-matzot is evident in Devarim 16. Devarim 16:1-8 records laws of the holiday of Pesach and of the chag ha-matzot, and it refers to the second mikrei kodesh of chag ha-matzot.  Afterwards, Devarim 16:9 records that one is to start counting the seven weeks. The implication is that the counting is only to begin after the chag ha-matzot ended.

I think the fourth view is correct that the phrase "on the morrow" refers to the day after chag ha-matzot. In the end of 23:15, the word shabbat means week, seven weeks. This suggests that the word shabbat in the beginning of 23:15 also means week, the morrow after the week. What week is being referred to? The week of chag ha-matzot. 23:11 then means that the omer is to be brought on the day after the end of the week of chag ha-matzot. Finally, the word shabbat in 23:16 also means week, "Until the morrow after the seventh week, you shall count fifty days."

Why did the Torah not then clearly state that that the omer is to be brought on the day after chag ha-matzot? One possibility is that really the word shabbat means a period of time when one is to rest, and while usually this is Saturday, really it can be a longer period of time, like a week. With this idea, the word shabbat does not necessarily refer to Saturday, and can just as equally refer to a festival. A second possibility is that the Torah did not want to connect Shavuot with chag ha-matzot. Chag ha-matzot is a historical holiday, while Shavuot is an agricultural holiday. If the bringing of the omer was recorded in reference to chag ha-matzot, this might have caused one to think that chag ha-matzot was an agricultural holiday, but really the holiday is only to recognize that G-d took the Jewish people out of Egypt. A third possibility is that the use of the word shabbat in conjunction with mimaharet is to re-enforce the sabbatical theme of the shabbatot of the weeks. 

My guess is that the traditional approach to understanding the term "on the morrow" as being the 16th of Nisan is because Chazal deliberately moved up the counting of the omer six days in order to make the holiday of Shavuot closer to the day of the Decalogue. In the Torah there is no connection at all between Shavuot and the Decalogue, but Chazal wanted to make this connection. (This connection occurs in the book of Jubilees.) If the counting of the omer starts after chag ha-matzot, the 22nd of Nisan, then Shavuot would be celebrated on the 12th of Sivan, but if the counting of the omer starts on the 16th of Nisan, then Shavuot is on the sixth day of Sivan.

It is not obvious in the Torah on which day the Decalogue occurred. Shemot 19:1 records that the Jewish people came to Mount Sinai on the third month (Sivan) and the verse seems to be referring to the first day of the month. Afterwards, there are several conversations between G-d and Moshe and it is not clear when they took place, on one day or spread out over several days. Shemot 19:10 records the next explicit reference to time that the Decalogue would take place three days later, which at a minimum was the third day of Sivan. However, in the Talmud (Shabbat 86b) the Rabbis maintained that each conversation between G-d and Moshe occurred on a separate day, and then the Decalogue was either on the sixth or seventh of Sivan.

The Tosefta, Erechin 1:4, and Talmud Rosh Hashanah 6b, note that in the time when the calendar was determined by sight, the holiday of Shavuot was celebrated on either the fifth, sixth or seventh of Sivan depending on the length of the months of Nisan and Iyar, see Henshke, 1992, pp. 441-444. This means that even if the omer was offered on the 16th of Nisan, still Shavuot was sometimes celebrated near the date of the Decalogue but not always on the day of the Decalogue,

My guess is that Chazal moved up the omer offering to have Shavuot be close to the day when they thought that the Decalogue occurred. They could not get it exact since the lengths of the months were not exact, but they could make the two events close. When the calendar and the months were fixed, then they could get them to be exact, but this also took to interpreting Shemot 19 to mean that the Decalogue was on the sixth of Sivan. The jump of moving the counting of the omer a week earlier was not so ground-breaking since according the fourth view, the day of the morrow was the day after the last day of chag ha-matzot, while now it would be the day after the first day of chag ha–matzot. Finally, according to the Mishnah (Rosh Hashanah 2:10) and the Talmud (Pesachim 117b and Berakhot 49a), Chazal have the power to decide when a holiday is celebrated, and hence they can decide to celebrate Shavuot a week earlier on the sixth of Sivan instead of the twelfth of Sivan.

Bibliography:

Henshke, David, 1992, The history of the counting of the omer, in Rabbi Mordechai Breuer Festchrift, edited by Moshe Bar-Asher, Jerusalem: Academon Press, pp. 417-448.

Hoffmann, David (1843-1921), 1953, Leviticus, Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook.

Leibowitz, Nehama (1905-1997), 1980, Studies in Vayikra, translated by Aryeh Newman, Jerusalem: The World Zionist Organization.

Maori, Yeshayahu, 1995, The Peshitta version of the Pentateuch and early Jewish exegesis, Jerusalem: Magnes Press.

Sprecher, Shmuel, 1993, "The offering of the omer and counting of the omer: The view of the Boethusians," Sidra, 9, pp. 105-116.

Lighting candles before Shabbat and Yom Tov

One of the most popular practices in Judaism is to light candles on Friday night before Shabbat. Why do we light candles before Shabbat?

This practice is not mentioned in the Torah, but we know from Roman sources that at least by the end of the period of the second Bet ha-Mikdash, the Jewish people lit candles prior to Shabbat, see sources in Lewin, 1938, pp. 55,56, and Lauterbach, 1973, p. 454. The Mishnah (Shabbat, chapter 2) discusses details of the law but does not explain the source of this practice.

The Talmud (Shabbat 23b) quotes from Rava that if a person has only enough oil for Shabbat candles or for Hanukkah candles, or only enough money for Shabbat candles or wine for Kiddush, then Shabbat candles takes precedence because of shalom bayit, peace in the house. The idea being that the light gives benefit to the people, and this has been understood to mean that light enables one to see one's food (Rashi on Shabbat 25b, hovah, Neuwirth, 1989, p. 31) and/or that a person will not trip when walking in the house, (Rashi on Shabbat 25b, hadlakah). Furthermore, this idea of benefit has been called kavod Shabbat, and oneg Shabbat in addition to being considered shalom bayit, see Rambam (Laws of Shabbat 5:1) and Arukh Hashulchan (1829-1908, Orah Chayyim 263:1). Yet, was the Talmud giving the reason for the law or just saying that this was an additional benefit to lighting Shabbat candles over and above its basic rationale?

One indication that the point of lighting Shabbat candles is not just to give light is that the basic requirement is just to light one candle (Shulchan Arukh, Orah Chayyim 263:1). In addition, the Talmud (Shabbat 25b) states that lighting the candles is an obligation, while if the law was due to kavod Shabbat, oneg Shabbat or shalom bayit it would not be an obligation.

Lauterbach, (1973, p. 459) makes the fascinating suggestion that the “ceremony of having lights on Friday night was a protest against the Samaritans and Sadducees." According to the Sadducees and the Samaritans, based on Shemot 35:3 (see our discussion on Shemot 35:3, "Can't start a fire"), a person has to extinguish all fires prior to the Shabbat, while now one is lighting a fire specifically prior to Shabbat in order that there would be a fire burning on Shabbat. Thus, only one light had to be lit because that was sufficient to show that a person was repudiating the Sadducees and Samaritan beliefs. 

(Lewin, 1938, p. 60, quotes a similar idea from R. Yosef Caro, but R. Caro relates it to the Karaites, that that the lighting is to repudiate the Karaites. Also, according to Lauterbach's suggestion, the comment in the Midrash, Genesis Rabbah, 60:16, quoted by Rashi on Bereshit 24:67, that when Sarah was alive, a lamp used to burn in her tent from the evening of Sabbath until the evening of the following Sabbath, is not referring to our practice of lighting Shabbat candles since by Sarah the candles burned all week.)

This idea that the lighting of the candles was to repudiate the views of the Samaritans, Sadducees and the Karaites explains some of the importance given to the lighting of the Sabbath candles. For instance, Rambam (Laws of Sabbath 5:1) writes that one must beg for money to fulfill the requirement of lighting candles for Shabbat. However, in Laws of Sabbath 30:7, he records that with regard to eating on Shabbat, which is also considered oneg Shabbat, one is not required to beg for money to get food on Shabbat. Why the difference? The answer is that lighting the Shabbat candles not only added pleasure to Shabbat but it made the point that a person was not a Sadducee, Samaritan and later a Karaite.

Another question that arises with regard to the candle lighting is whether one recites a blessing when lighting the candles. Today the practice is to say a blessing, but the Talmud does not record any blessing only that one is required to light the candles, Shabbat 25b. Tosafot (Shabbat 25b, Hovah, also see Tur 263) quotes that in the Middle Ages, there were people who said that one does not make a blessing on candle lighting, and they compared this case to washing one's hands after eating, mayim achronim, which is also considered obligatory by the Talmud but has no blessing. However, Tosafot quotes Rabbenu Tam that we do say a blessing as Rav Amram Gaon (9th century, 2004, p.61) in his Siddur stated that one recites a blessing by candle lighting.

The Arukh Hashulchan (above) asks that with regard to other obligations on Shabbat that are considered oneg Shabbat there is no blessing, so why by candle lighting is there a blessing? He answers that there was a special enactment by the candle lighting. Yet, his proof of this enactment is that the Talmud stated that candle lighting is obligatory but while this is true, the Talmud never stated that one is to recite a blessing by the candle lighting.

Lewin (1938, pp. 67,68) notes that we have no record of exactly when the blessing on candle lighting was instituted, but he quotes Rav Natronai Gaon, (9th century) who preceded Rav Amram Gaon as the head of the academy of Sura (853-858), as the first person who we have on record as stating that one says a blessing on candle lighting. (Also see Lewin's work, Otzar ha-Geonim, Shabbat 25b, paragraphs 83-85.) Hoffmann (1979, p. 86) questions whether the attribution of the blessing to Rav Natronai Gaon is correct, but he concludes, "we cannot go far wrong if we attribute the blessing to either Amram or Natronai."

We see that the blessing on candle lighting on Friday night seems to have begun in the ninth century. Why then was a blessing instituted? Again, Lauterbach (1951, pp. 459-61) provides the insight, as he suggests that "the blessing was a protest against the Karaites,” as the Karaites also followed the idea that Shemot 35:3 means that a person cannot have a fire burning on Shabbat even if it was lit beforehand.

Hoffmann (1979, p. 88) notes the difficulty the Geonim had in justifying the blessing on candle lighting, and he agrees with Lauterbach that "we may see the benediction as a polemic against the Karaite sect." The blessing increased the religious significance of lighting the Shabbat candles, which would have strengthened the observance of lighting the candles to contradict the Karaite practice of not having any fires lit on Shabbat.

Accordingly, we see that there was a two-stage development in the law of lighting Shabbat candles. Initially, the lighting was done to counter the beliefs of the Sadducees and the Samaritans, and when the controversy was renewed with the Karaites, the Geonim added the blessing to repudiate the Karaites.

This rationale for lighting and making the blessing on Shabbat candles might also explain some customs with regard to lighting candles on Yom Tov. Abudraham (Spain, early 14th century, in his commentary on Friday night prayers, Bameh Madlikin, Mishnah Shabbat 2:6) first quotes Rabbenu Gershon ben Rabbi Shelomo that the custom is not to make a blessing when lighting the candle for Yom Tov, but then he quotes that the Baal Mishmeret ha-Moadot wrote that a person should recite a blessing when lighting a candle for Yom Tov.

Rason Arusi (1979) notes that even today some Yemenite Jews do not make a blessing on lighting candles on Yom Tov. Arusi writes that the Raviah (Germany, 12th century) was the first to record that one is light candles on Yom Tov. The Raviah writes that his source was a Yerushalmi, but this Yerushalmi does not exist in out versions today. Arusi suggests that this reference to a Yerushalmi is not to the Talmud Yerushalmi but to a book of customs in medieval Germany which called itself Yerushalmi since many of the customs of Ashkenazi Jewry were from the community that lived in the land of Israel.

Arusi argues that the late development of lighting candles and saying a blessing on candles for Yom Tov is because the reason for lighting on Shabbat is due to the fight with the Sadducees and the Karaites, but this reason was not applicable to Yom Tov, where the use of fire is permitted. Thus, initially the custom was only to light candles for Shabbat, while the lighting of candles prior to Yom Tov and reciting the blessing on the lighting only developed afterwards due to a desire to make Yom Tov similar to Shabbat.

Bibliography:

Arusi, Rason, 1979, Blessing on lighting candles for Yom Tov: Examination of custom of Yeminite Jewry, Sinai, 85, pp. 55-91.

Hoffmann, Lawrence A. 1979, The canonization of the synagogue service, Notre Dame, Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press.

Lauterbach, Jacob (1873-1942), 1973, Rabbinic Essays, New York: Ktav. Reprint of 1951, Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College

Lewin, B.M. 1938, Letoledot ner shel Shabbat, in Essays and studies in memory of Linda R. Miller, edited by Israel Davidson, New York: Jewish Theological Seminary, 1938, pp. 55-68, Hebrew section.