Skip to main content

Full text of "Cantors Assembly Journal of Synagogue Music"

See other formats


JOURNAL 

OF SYNAGOGUE MUSIC 



JANUARY 1978/SHEVAT 5738 

Volume VIII 

NUMBER 1 



CONTENTS 

The Tetragrammaton in Music Herbert Fromm 3 

Havdalah — A Sabbath Pageant of Farewell Pinchas Spiro 6 

The "Organ Controversy" RECONSIDERED Elliot B. Gertel 12 

On Church Music C. S. Lewis 27 



DE P ARTM E NTS 

Review of New Music Morton Shames 32 

"Three Sayings of Hillel" 
by Stephen Richards 

Music Section 34 

Torah Service from "Schirah 
Chadashah" by Hugo C. Adler 



JOURNAL OF SYNAGOGUE MUSIC,, \f I U ft) Q VIII, N U AT? fa Q f 1 

January 1978 / Shevat 5738 
editor: Morton Shames 

MANAGING EDITOR! S B (Tf\ U el R S Btlb B U tVi 

editorial board: Jacob Barkin, Gerald H. Hanig, Morton Kula, 
Abraham Lubin, Benjamin Z.Maissner, Saul Meisels, Morton S. 
Shanok, Abraham Shapiro, Pinchas Spiro, Max Wohlberg. 



business manager: 



Yehudah Mandel 



OFFICERS OF THE CANTORS ASSEMBLY: K U /*t S / / fo 6TM? 3 D /? , P T G S I U G PI t ) 

Morton Shames, VicG President; A braham Shapiro, Treasurer; Bruce 
Wetzler, Secretary; Samuel Rosenbaum, Executive Vice President. 

journal of synagogue music is a quarterly publication. The sub- 
scription fee is $12.50 per yean All articles, communications and 
subscriptions should be addressed to Journal of Synagogue Music, 
Cantors Assembly, 150 Fifth Avenue, New York 10011. 

Copyright © 1978, Cantors Assembly 



TETRAGRAMMATON IN MUSIC 

(An Imaginary Discourse Preceding the Playing of 
Ernest B loch's "Sacred Service") 

H ERBERT F RO M M 

Speaker: 

As previously announced, I'll speak tonight about 'The Tetra- 
grammaton in Music". That such a theme would interest only a few 
people is something I fully expected. Thus, it is easy for me to 
avoid the trap laid for so many speakers when facing a small audi- 
ence: scolding those present for those who did not come. 

I shall even abstain from calling you "a special audience". If 
I did, I'd be falling into another trap. What sounds like flattery of 
the audience turns out in the end to be self-adulation of the speaker 
himself who assumes that only "a special audience" could appreciate 
his message. 

Having disposed of these, the more obvious, traps, we are ready 
to turn to our theme which specifically considers Ernest Bloch and 
his Sacred Service, "Avodat Hakodesh." Its initial six notes 




O ^~ 



J 

are heard throughout the work and are even marked by brackets to 
show their importance whenever they occur. 

The first four notes are elementary, known for centuries as 
cantusfirmus for counterpoint exercises, and used for their highest 
purpose as the opening statement of the Finale to Mozart's "J upiter" 
Symphony. 



Herbert Fromm is one of the best known and most individualistic com- 
posers creating music for the American J ewish community. Born in Kitzingen, 
Germany, he has lived in the United States since 1937. He holds a 'Master's 
degree from the State Academy of Music in Munich and holds an Honorary 
Doctorate of Humane Letters from Lesley College in 'Massachusetts. After 
33 years of devoted service, he is now retired from the post of organist of 
Temple Israel in Boston. 

He is the composer of a wide variety of works for orchestra, organ, the 
synagogue, art songs, chamber music, cantatas, choral cycles, etc. He is a 
member of the American Guild of Organists and was the recipient of the 
Ernest Bloch Award. His music is performed extensively, he lectures and 

writes and continues to compose. 



TheTetragrammaton, being the most sacred, unspeakable name 
of God, has only four letters in its unvoweled Hebrew spelling: 
Y H V H, whereas our motif comes to six notes. 

Still, I think that those six notes are a representation of the 
Tetragrammaton — not in its Hebrew spelling but in its translitera- 
tion: YAH WE H. However, there is a problem that must be 
solved if my interpretation is to hold up. 

In the six letters of the transliteration, the third and the sixth 
letter are the same. Not so in B loch's motif, where the identical 
notes occur in the second and fifth, and the first and sixth place, 
why this discrepancy in what I take to be an instance of musical 
symbolism? 

In order to explain why Bloch could not allow his six notes to 
correspond exactly with the transliteration of the Tetragrammaton, 
I must present some theological and historical facts. 

The third of the Ten Commandments reads: 

'Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord Thy God 
in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that 
taketh His name in vain." 

This law had consequences of which I shall give some examples. 

1. The Bible tells us that the most holy Name of God could only 
be pronounced once a year by the High Priest on Yom Kippur. 

2. When the Tetragrammaton appears in prayer or scripture, J ews 
unanimously pronounce it Adonai (Lord) and even change it to 
Hashem in secular use. 

3. Another name of God, Elohim, may be pronounced in prayer but 
the fear of the Third Commandment is such that orthodox J ews 
change Elohim to Elokim if the word is used outside of prayer. 

4. Even in English, religious J ews spell God as G-d to make sure 
not to be in conflict with the Commandment. 

This brings us back to Bloch. His change in the six-note motif 
was, in my opinion, caused by obedience to the Third Commandment 
and the J ewish practice following that Law. 
Voice from the audience: 

I just cannot believe that Bloch made his choice for such rea- 
sons, I don't even think he was faced with a dilemma. Your thoughts 
never occurred to him, he simply took his motif as a composer who 
saw in it possibilities for elaboration. 



Speaker: 

However we look at it, we can say with certainty that the 
constant use of the six notes is not accidental. There can be no 
doubt that Bloch had something special in mind. He is dead, we 
cannot ask him. Even if he were here to tell us, we could not be 
sure that his answer was to be taken as Absolute Truth, and I am 
not convinced that he would support my interpretation. A composer 
of his type works by unconscious, perhaps even, atavistic impulses 
that rarely surface as reflection and thought. This leaves us with 
speculation. 

Your simpler, more practical answer, has much to recommend 
it. Yet, I am not willing to abandon mv chain of thought, which may 
be called a Talmudic approach to music. But it could well be that, 
by combining the two interpretations, we may be touching the hem 
of truth-a modest claim indeed. 

Short Pause. 
No audience reaction. 
Speaker: 

In spite of my ready compromise I still see doubt on your 
faces. Under these circumstances, the best I can do is to seek 
shelter under the last paragraph of a fantastic story by Nicolai 
Gogol, the Ukrainian-Russian writer of the early 19th century. Here 
is the quote: 

"Nevertheless, in spite of all, and although one may 
admit, this, that and the other, and perhaps even. , . . 
Well, where in the world is there no nonsense? What- 
ever you may say against this story — there is some- 
thing to it. Think what you will — such things occur. 
Rarely though. But they do occur". 

And now, pushing speculations, and apologies aside, we shall 
hear the music, or, in Gogol's words, the story. . . . 



6 

HAVDALAH -A SABBATH PAGEANT OF FAREWELL 

PINCHAS Spiro 

This is the story of the commissioning of a new musical pageant, 
and my own unique experience of collaborating with the composer 
in the process of giving life and form to a dream and an idea. 

On March 19, 1977, we presented in our synagogue the premiere 
performance of Morton Gold's latest major work, "Havdalah: A 
Sabbath Pageant of Farewell." The large number of participants 
included a mixed choir, a children's chorus, soloists, narrators and 
a dance ensemble. The instrumental accompaniment consisted of 
organ, flute, piccolo, trumpet, timpani and percussion. It was such 
an uplifting experience that I felt compelled to write a letter to 
several friends and to share with them some of the details concern- 
ing Gold's new and remarkable accomplishment. Recently, I was 
asked by the editor of the J ournal of Synagogue Music to submit the 
contents of that letter in the form of an article in order to share it 
with the entire membership. I have done so, but not without some 
hesitation. 

The composer graciously credited me in the title page of the 
score of "Havdalah" with compiling and writing the text. I am not 
being overly modest when I say that my creative contributions to 
this new work are rather limited. Aside from the layout and the 
overall concept of the pageant, I wrote original material only for the 
opening Theme Song (Prelude), the Finale and for the narrations 
of Part One. The rest of the material was culled, adapted and re- 
written by me from a great number of sources. The copyright for 
"Havdalah" is owned exclusively by the composer, Dr. Milton Gold; 
all inquiries regarding the purchase of the music and obtaining per- 
mission to perform it should be addressed to him at 16 Bradeen 
Street, Springvale, Maine 04083. 

Let me first give you some background information on how the 
work came about. 

Last year, our congregation celebrated its 75th Anniversary, 
and I submitted the proposal that we commemorate this event by 
commissioning a musical work that would not only enrich the cul- 
tural life of our own community, but would perhaps constitute a 
significant contribution to the J ewish musical treasure house. The 
enthusiastic endorsement of this idea by the congregation was due 
to the fact that it came on the heels of the overwhelmingly successful 

Pinchas Spiro is the Hazzan of Tifereth Israel Synagogue of Des Moines 
and an innovative educator and composer in the field of Synagogue Music. 



presentation of Morton Gold's Passover Oratorio, "Haggadah: A 
Search for Freedom." (See J ournal of Synagogue Music, Volume VI, 
Number 3.) We approached Dr. Gold and were delighted when he 
accepted the commission. 

Selecting the Havdalah ritual as the central theme of our project 
enabled me finally to realize an exclusive dream to which I had given 
a great deal of thought for a number of years. I have always been 
intrigued by the special fascination which the Havdalah ceremony 
holds for all who witness it. When all the lights are extinguished 
and only the crackling, dancing flame of the braided candle illumi- 
nates the participants, an aura of sublime mystery envelops the 
proceedings. It is an enchanted hour. Young people are particularly 
affected by it, and I have often heard from youngsters that their 
most cherished memories of summer camp are associated with the 
Havdalah ceremony. The suprising fact is that very little has been 
written, as far as I know, to accommodate this marvelous ceremony 
in a meaningful way. 

Since the Havdalah ceremony by itself would hardly occupy a 
full evening's program, and si nee the real significance of the Havdalah 
ceremony and its deep impact can be understood only in relation 
to the complete Sabbath day experience which the Havdalah cere- 
mony culminates, my concept of the presentation emerged in the 
following way. The event would take place on Sabbath afternoon 
in the synagogue. The proceedings would start with a traditional 
Minhah and Ma'ariv service which would be carefully scheduled to 
conclude shortly after sunset. At this point, we are suspended in 
time- between the end of the Shabbat and the beginning of the 
new week. That is when our musical Havdalah pageant begins. 

The pageant starts with a prelude in the form of a Theme Song 
which establishes the time and the mood, pointing out the similarities 
between the beginning of Shabbat and its conclusion. The opening 
narration introduces Part One of the pageant by stating that while 
we are waiting for the three stars to appear, we should try to delay 
the departure of our beloved Sabbath, in the manner of the Has- 
sidim, by recalling the pleasant memories of the day from one sunset 
to another. 

Part One of the pageant is titled: "N'shamah Y'terah" (An 
Additional Soul). It is sub-titled: "Sabbath Reminiscences/' The 
narrations which recount the highlights of the night and the day 
are interspersed with suitable songs which either illustrate the mood 
or continue the story line. This section is held together by the four 
verses of Bialik's poem, "Shabbat Hamalkah," which is in itself the 



8 

story of the Sabbath day in capsule form. I think that a striking 
effect is created by the similarity in the opening words of the first 
and last verses of that poem. Verse I: 'The sun on the tree-tops 
no longer is seen; Come, gather to welcome the Sabbath, the Queen." 
Verse IV: 'The sun on the tree-tops no longer is seen; Come, bid 
a farewell to the Sabbath, our Queen." 

Part Two, "Havdalah" (Separation), is sub-titled: "A Reluc- 
tant Farewell." It consists of the Havdalah service in its entirety. 
The Introductory Verses ("Hiney El Y'shu'ati") are chanted by the 
cantor and choir, alternately, in Hebrew and English. This section 
includes explanatory narrations concerning the blessings over the 
wine, the spices and the fire. These were intended to lend an edu- 
cational value to the ceremony. 

Part Three, "M' lavehMalkah" (Escorting The Queen), is sub- 
titled: "Sabbath After-glow/' In writing and compiling the text 
for this pageant, I have attempted to convey the feeling that the 
havdalah ritual represents, on the one hand, a reluctant farewell to 
the blissful Sabbath day that has just ended, and, on the other, 
that it is a hopeful and cheerful welcome to a new and happy week 
of creativity about to begin. Part Three concludes the pageant on 
a bright and joyous note. 

When I contacted Dr. Gold regarding the details of the com- 
missioned work, I was delighted by the genuine interest he displayed 
in the "Havdalah" subject. Because of the distance between Des 
Moines, Iowa and Springvale, Maine, our contacts were by phone 
and mail only. The number of letters and phone calls we exchanged 
is staggering. I am pleased to say that although we never actually 
met in person, we quickly developed a very close rapport and 
friendly working relationship with a free give and take. 

Even as I started working on the script of "Havdalah", I already 
envisioned it in terms of a multi-media presentation to include 
dramatic readings, tableaus, interpretive dance sequences and pos- 
sibly film-clips and slides. I communicated these ideas to Dr. Gold 
in the form of foot-notes to the script. I also indicated to him my 
personal preference that the work be written in a folk-style manner, 
with influences of Shnbbat Z'mirot, hassi die chants and traditional 
motifs. However, along with all my instructions and suggestions, I 
made it absolutely clear to the composer that in no way did I intend 
to infringe on his musical integrity and that I would leave the final 
decisions on all matters musical to his judgement. 

The entire experience of collaborating with a composer was 
new to me. I must confess that when I finally received the finished 



score from Dr. Gold, I dreaded opening and examining it. To under- 
stand my feelings you must realize that during the course of the 
considerable time that it had taken me to compile the script, I had 
formed very definite concepts and ideas about the score. Now that 
the moment of truth was here, could the finished product possibly 
live up to my great expectations? I cannot begin to describe to you 
the feelings of elation that I experienced upon discovering what Dr. 
Morton Gold had created! "Havdalah: A Sabbath Pageant of Fare- 
well" was everything I had hoped it would be, and much more. 

Even though Morton Gold is the composer of both "Haggadah" 
and "Havdalah," I am not going to make comparisons between these 
two works. I will only say that, in my opinion, both are works of 
great popular appeal. I will also point out that while "Haggadah" 
utilizes several traditional Passover motifs, the music cannot be 
categorized as typically J ewish. "Havdalah," on the other hand, is 
a completely J ewish work, through and through. The only possible 
exception to this statement is his melody of Bialik's "Queen Sab- 
bath." But even here, I believe that this melody compares favorably 
with Minkowski's well-known melody for the same poem. 

One of the outstanding qualities of "Havdalah" is its wealth of 
melodic charm. Each of its selections is a gem that can be used 
separately on many occasions. Among the selections that I am sure 
will eventually become popular folk-song classics are: "Eliyahu 
Hanavi", "David Melech Yisrael", "Shavua Tov" and "Ba'olam 
Hazeh." The chant "Tsur Mishelo Akhalnu" was written in the true 
Shabbat z'mirot fashion; the "Yism'hu" is a perfect example of 
hassi die-synagogue style, and the "Shiru Zadonai" is simply a 
glorious composition through which the composer expressed his joy 
in being able to sing unto the Lord a new song! 

There is one selection about which I have some reservations. 
The selection is "Shalom Aleikhem" and, paradoxically, it happens 
to be one of the most exciting and brilliant pieces in the entire work. 
My reservations concern the snare-drum background which the com- 
poser has provided throughout the entire composition. Somehow, I 
cannot reconcile in my mind the military air which the snare-drum 
conjures up with the gentle text which speaks of the Angels of 
Peace. 

In terms of difficulty, the choral numbers range from very, very 
easy to fairly difficult. The majority are easy. The harmonies are 
rich and interesting, but the melody line is invariably delegated to 
the sopranos. Since the harmonies are mostly of the vertical variety 
there is not enough melodic interest in the lower parts. An amateur 



10 

choir may find some numbers difficult to learn and memorize, (with 
the exception of the sopranos who have it easy at all times), but 
once they have mastered the material thoroughly the singers will 
find it most rewarding. 

The work can be performed with organ (or piano) accompani- 
ment, but I highly recommend the use of the optional additional 
instruments which add so much color and excitement to the per- 
formance. They involve only four additional players, and this is 
surely not an overwhelming problem for a well-mounted production. 
Incidentally, the composer told me that as he was composing the 
work he constantly thought of an orchestral sound. He indicated to 
me that some day he intends to provide a full orchestral accompani- 
ment for the work. When he does, I will surely be the first to use it. 

I have timed the tape-recording of the premiere performance 
and timed the sections: Prelude plus Part I — 39 minutes; Part 
11—19 minutes; Part III — 16 minutes. 

A great deal of flexibility is possible in the presentation of the 
material included in "Havdalah." The ideal way is to present it on 
a Saturday night, following a Minhas-Ma'ariv service, as described 
earlier. It makes for a complete evening's program in terms of dura- 
tion and it also has the psychological advantage of performing the 
Havdalah ritual in the right atmosphere and at the appropriate time. 
It might be an interesting idea to precede the performance of the 
pageant with an early Minhah and a leisurely S'udah Sh'lishit, 
perhaps combined with a study session or a Sabbath Institute. 

The pageant itself is so designed that it. can be presented in 
a variety of combinations. For instance, it is possible to start with 
the Prelude (Theme Song), skip all of Part One ("Sabbath Remi- 
niscences") and go directly to Part Two, the Havdalah ceremony. 
For a conclusion, one can use all of Part Three ("M' lavehMalkah"), 
or simply finish with the rousing "Shavua Tov" which has a great 
ending. Part One can be performed as a complete program by itself. 
It might be suitable for a special Friday evening program. Several 
other combinations are possible. 

An item of interest: In preparing for our premiere performance, 
the person in charge of printing and distributing the programs kept 
them sealed in a bag with several boxes of cloves for a full week. 
When the programs were distributed, there was a delicious aroma 
of b'samim throughout the synagogue which greatly enhanced the 
Havdalah atmosphere. 

Our premiere presentation of "Havdalah — A Sabbath Pageant 
of Farewell" concluded in a very special way. Immediately following 



11 

the stirring Finale, the entire musical ensemble broke into a lively 
and joyous reprise of "David Melech" and "Shavua Tov." While 
everyone in the snagogue stood and clapped hands rhythmically, the 
dancers started a dance in the aisles where they were joined by 
many in the audience in a genuine display of the hassidic "M'laveh 
Malkah" spirit. 



12 

THE "ORGAN CONTROVERSY" RECONSIDERED 

E LLIOT B. Gertel 

The so-called "organ controversy" is a uniquely "modern" issue 
in J ewish Law. To follow the responsa literature on this subject is 
to gain insight into the structure of the modern responsum, par- 
ticularly when "liberal" positions are advocated. We shall structure 
this paper around the most recent responsum on this subject-and 
the best, to date. We shall analyze that responsum, indicate where 
it reflects the argument of earlier works, cite its weaknesses as 
pointed out by contemporary works and by earlier works which 
argue against similar stances, and, finally, offer a new approach to 
the organ question. 

THE PROBLEM OF PRECEDENT 

In 'The Organ and Jewish Worship: A Proposal,"' Rabbi 
Phillip Sigal argues that the "question of instrumental music in 
J ewish worship lay dormant for many centuries. This quiescence 
misled our ancestors into believing it utterly wrong. It became a 
negative minhag, a 'customary practice in absentia,' if I may coin 
a phrase, not to use organ music." (93) Sigal argues that since 
vocal music and instrumental music have always been of "equal 
importance" and "simultaneous usage" in Jewish life, the return 
of vocal music to the synagogue should have entailed a spontaneous 
revival of instrumental music in the Temple. Both kinds of music 
had been prohibited out of mourning for the Temple. (Yet we are 
told in one Mishnah that music was banned out of mourning for 
the dissolution of the Sanhedrin, 2 an event which took place much 
later than the destruction of the Temple!) 

Sigal argues that a Talmudic instrument, the magrephah, may 
even have been similar to our modern organ.' He thus calls for the 
"restoration" of the use of the organ. The question of whether the 
organ was used in the Temple is, however, by no means cut and 
dry. It figured greatly in the early polemics on the subject. David 
Deutsch, in DieOrgd in der Synagogue: Eine Erorterung (Breslau, 
1863) one of the few cool and collected traditionalist polemics against 
the use of the organ, cites the J erusalem Talmud,' which notes that 

Elliot B. Gertel is a student at the Rabbinical School of the Jewish 
Theological Seminary of America who has contributed to a numher of Judaica 
periodicals. 



13 

Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish equated the ugab (organ) with the 
arbelos, and that Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel asserted that the arbelos 
was not used in the Temple. Deutsch concludes from Talmudic evi- 
dence that the halil and not the ugab was used in the Temple. 
(26-7) Yet even the halil was not used on the Sabbath because 
it was not regarded as a sacred instrument, like the kinnor and the 
nevel (Mishnah Sukkah 5:1). 5 Deutsch therefore insists that since 
the ugab — the closest among ancient instruments to the modern 
organ -was never used in the Temple, there is no such thing as 
a "restoration" of the organ to synagogue worship. 

Deutsch's argument seems quite solid. It is certainly superior 
to the assertion of Samuel Krauss, a later defender of the use of 
the organ, that musical instruments ought to be permitted on the 
Sabbath, despite Rabbinic prohibitions, because the Rabbis once 
forbade any kind of noise on the Sabbath, including clapping hands 
and dancing (Yom Tov 5:2) . 6 Such argumentation, however, can 
hardly be taken seriously, for there is definitely much resistance in 
J ewish practice to the use of musical instruments, as the rather 
forced arguments over what was an organ, would seem to indicate. 

I dare say, however, that it is irrelevant whether or not there 
was an organ-like instrument in the Temple, or whether it would 
have been permitted, were it in existence. As we shall see, the 
halachic problem is not one of precedent, but of subsequent re- 
sistance to instrumental music, more by Rabbinic authority than by 
the people. It is very difficult to compare any ancient instrument, 
even with several pipes, to the modern pipe organ — "dieKonigin 
der Instruments "7 the most sophisticated musical instrument in all 
of recorded history. 

THE QUESTION OF MOURNING 

Si gal argues against the view of Rabbi Uzziel that the organ 
was, in addition to being an imitation of Gentile customs, a viola- 
tion of our ancestors' oath not to forget Zion (Psalm 137:5), which 
restrains us frm engaging in any form of worship practiced in the 
Temple. While Sigal should have argued that the Rabbis would 
never base an halakhah on a verse of the Psalms, he asserts, quite 
curiously, that according to Rabbi Uziel's argument, we should cease 
saying the Shema and the Birkat Ha-Kohanim, since these, too, were 
part of Temple worship. Yet this rather exaggerated and sarcastic 
form of argumentation leads us nowhere. 

With more relevance, Sigal cites the Shulhun Arukh,8where 
we learn that although the Rabbis prohibited the playing of all 



14 

instruments after 70 C.E., and proscribed all music, including the 
singing of XheKiddush, the people persisted in singing the Kiddush 
and other prayers at services. Rabbi Moshe Isserles added that for 
amitzvah (such as cheering bride and groom at a wedding party) 
both vocal and instrumental music are permitted. Sigal regards this 
course of events as evidence that music "cannot be removed from 
society," and that the Rabbinic decrees which banned music "vio- 
lated the principle of not decreeing anything by which the public 
cannot abide." 

This conclusion that the ban on all musical instruments was 
ill-fated, is quite convincing. Indeed, Boaz Cohen, in a classical 
study of various responsa on music among J ews, concludes as follows: 
To sum up briefly, in Tannaitic times, the J ews abstained 
from music as a token of mourning. During the Amoraic period 
the rabbis strove with might and main to dissuade the people 
from induling in song, especially [at] wine parties when women 
furnished the entertainment. The Geonim upheld the Talmudic 
law on the subject, and took steps to enforce it. They per- 
mitted music which was not of a sensuous character, at wed- 
dings. R. Isaac Alfasi summarized the view of R. Hai, and that 
became the norm for Maimonides and subsequent codifiers. In 
spite of the rigor of the law, music could not be suppressed and 
not only did the J ews borrow melodies from the peoples among 
whom they lived for secular purposes, but they also imported 
various tunes for their divine services. The law prohibiting 
music was never fully observed, because it ran counter to 
human nature. 9 

SOUNDS ON THE SABBATH 

I n the second part of his teshuvah, Rabbi Sigal asserts that, the 
prohibition against using an organ on the Sabbath ought to be in- 
validated in view of the principle that anything required for the 
performance of a mitzvah is permissible on the Sabbath. (We already 
saw this argument applied with reference to the cheering of bride 
and groom by Rabbi M. Isserles.) Thus, the kinnor could be re- 
paired for Temple worship on the Sabbath. 10 Rashi noted that 
music was considered a makhshir, an implement for the sacrificial 
offering, and hence repairing the kinnor was permissible. Sigal con- 
cludes that although prayer, and not music, is the essential element 
(ikkar) of modern worship (he here cites Rabbi Moshe Sofer, in 
a teshuvah against, the use of the organ), those who use the organ 
today as an implement for prayer ought to be allowed to repair it. 



16 

The Shulhan ArukhU forbids the production of musical sound 
on the Sabbath, except, as the Magen David notes,') for the purpose 
of si mchah (ritual "joys" such as the cheering of bride and groom). 
As Sigal notes, the Beir Heitivi permits the making of sound by a 
sick person (probably as a signal), and even declares that it is 
surely permissible for the bells on the Torahs to make sounds during 
the procession of the Law, since this, like dancing, is mi tzvah- related. 

Sigal concludes that since there is no greater mitzcah for our 
time than public worship, and since the playing of music can enhance 
that mi tzvah for many people, it must be encouraged. He notes 
that music on the Sabbath has been equated in halakhic literature 
with makeh b'patish, "hitting with a hammer," the thirty-eighth 
category of activities prohibited on the Sabbath (because they were 
part of the building of the Tabernacle).'" Sigal appropriately points 
out that the Talmud does not include the playing of music among 
these categories, nor would playing the organ come under the cate- 
gory of makeh b'pntish, which entails only the finishing touches put 
on a manufactured article. Sigal also mentions the classic observa- 
tion of Rashil5 that music is prohibited on the Sabbath because it 
is something nolad, "created." Yet, as he notes, nolad was not 
included among the thirty-nine categories of forbidden labors, and 
it dates as a prohibition from the fourth century, and not from 
Tannaitic and Mishnaic sources. Furthermore, observes Sigal, "the 
production of sound on an instrument is no more nolad than the 
creation of sound by voice." 

It is only as an afterthought to the above reasoning that Sigal 
refers to the oft-cited halakhic contention that the prohibition of 
music was due to a gezerah, a decree of Rabbinic extension of the 
Sabbath laws, known as shvut. Apparently, the Rabbis were afraid 
that if one played a musical instrument on the Sabbath, he may 
have to stop to repair it on the holy day. Sigal believes that this 
argument is easily refuted because (1) an organ must be repaired 
by specialists, and rarely by the organist (if that organist be Jewish); 
(2) the gezerah against, all music has itself been relaxed; and (3) 
a rule of shvut may be revised anyway if we know that the original 
reason for it is now invalid. 

Unfortunately, Sigal mars his argument by invoking what he 
confesses to be a "revolutionary" assertion. Since Rabbinic rules of 
shvut did not apply in the Temple (e.g., the shofar could be blown 
therein), then those rules should not, apply in the modern sanctuary, 
which is the mikdash of our day. This argument is actually not so 



16 

"radical" or original, since it was first advanced by a Rabbi Lowen- 
gard during the Frankfort Rabbinical Conference of 1845.16 

Nor does Sigal argue adequately by nullifying the laws of shvut 
with his synagogue-as-sanctuary argument, for the rules of shvut 
have never been strict about music on the Sabbath, anyway. Boaz 
Cohen notes that while the tosafot suggest that the use of music 
on the Sabbath and Festivals was banned mi-shum shvut ("because 
of shvut"), l7 "we find no such direct interpretation in the Tannaitic 
sources." Cohen asserts that shvut may have not applied in the 
Temple only because it was considered part of the sacrificial cult 
(Sukkah 51a), but was not even permitted there during the Simhat 
bet Sho'avah when this occurred on the Sabbath, because it was not 
essential to Sabbath worship. Even in Amoraic times, when the 
prohibition of instrumental music on the Sabbath was assumed, it 
was not directly attributed to shvut There is even a question as 
to whether the sounding of the shofar violated shvut (Shabbat 114b) 
or is a form of hokhma (agility) rather than melakhah (work). 
But the most stringent authorities, like Rabbi Eliezer, who argued 
against producing any sounds on the Sabbath (including unneces- 
sary speech!) -a view combatted by those authorities who forbad 
only musical sounds — do not explicitly forbid music on the grounds 
of shvut. 18 

Boaz Cohen's fine study therefore calls into question Sigal's 
entire reasoning about shvut. There really was no need for him to 
put the modern synagogue in the same category of the Temple of 
old-an affirmation found in early Reform rhetoric, grounded in 
opposition to J ewish national yearnings-si nee the prohibition of 
music on the Sabbath is probably not a form of shvut to begin with! 

In his critique of Rabbi Sigal's teshuvah, Rabbi Samuel Rosen- 
blatt also misses the mark by regarding the prohibition of music 
on Shabbat as a form of shvut .19 He is correct, however, in noting 
the faultiness of Sigal's equation of the synagogue with the Temple, 
since these were never given the same status even when the syna- 
gogues existed at the same time as the Temple. 20 Whatever our 
"modernist" prejudicies against, the sacrificial cult, no adherent of 
"historical J udaism" can ever assert that the Temple and synagogue 
held the same status in Jewish life. As Rabbi Rosenblatt further 
points out, "it must be borne in mind that not only the performance 
of acts regarded as shvut was permitted in the execution of the 
Temple service, but even choices designated as outright labor 
(mlakhah) I such as kindling fire for the sacrifices]. No such right 



17 

to make fire, for whatever purpose, has ever been accorded to any 
synagogue since the time of the destruction of the Temple." 21 

Rosenblatt also challenges Sigal's suggestion that the use of 
the organ can be equated with the instrumental music once consid- 
ered part of the mitzvah of Temple worship. He asserts that there 
can certainly be fervor in prayer without organ music, and that 
Si gal exceeds "in his reasoning all leigtimate bounds of hermeneu- 
tics" when he declares that instrumental music, which may have 
been essential to weddings, is also essential to synagogue worship. 21a 
This argument is probably an appropriate refutation of Sigal's sub- 
jective equation of accompaniment of the prayers to the historic 
mitzvot of cheering bride and groom and beautifying the sacrificial 
cult. Yet Rosenblatt's very refutation of a subjective argument is 
also quite subjective, grounded as it is in the view that the organ 
is foreign and even alien to J ewish worship. 

THE CHARGE OF IMITATION OF THE GENTILES 

We come, finally, to the issue of hukkat ha-goyim (imitation of 
"Gentile statutes"), with which Sigal deals more briefly than the 
other objections to the use of the organ-quite interesting when 
one considers that most polemics against the use of the organ invoke 
this issue at greater length than any other! Sigal cites Rabbi 
Solomon Freehoff's observation that the organ was never universally 
used in Church worship (the Papal Chapel in Rome had no organ), 
and that the Church borrowed the organ from the synagogue. 22 

Unfortunately, Sigal rather superficially shirks the charge that 
use of the organ is a form of hukkat ha'goyim. He does point out 
that, according to the Talmud, a practice found in the Torah can 
never be classified as such, even if appropriated by the Gentiles. 
(Avodah Zarah Ma) . "Since both vocal and instrumental music are 
known in the Torah and are inherent elements of J ewish worship, 
it would appear that they cannot be categorized under Leviticus 
8:3," Sigal writes. (103) Yet the problem is specifically a matter 
of the organ, not of vocal or instrumental music as such. So much 
has the organ been associated with the Church that most of the 
questions raised about its use (mainly in the nineteenth century, 
but some previously) were not so much concerned about playing it 
on the Sabbath, which most authorities regarded as forbidden, but 
with playing it on weekdays for national holidays, weddings, etc. 
Rabbi David Hoffman, an outstanding nineteenth-century (German) 
Orthodox authority, preferred that the organ not be used in the 



18 

synagogue for national events, hut that, other, less "Gentile" instru- 
ments be employed.. 

There is indeed a big fuss made in nineteenth-century Orthodox 
literature over the organ as the perfect example of aping the Gen- 
tiles. In his commentary to Leviticus 18:5 (the prohibition against 
mimicking alien cults), Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch of Frankfort 
explicitly prohibited the use of the organ as a Gentile practice. 

Rabbi David Hoffman compares musical instruments in Jewish 
worship to the matzevot (shrines) that were lovingly and licitly 
erected by the Patriarchs, but were later forbidden by the Torah 
(actually, by Deuteronomic law 24 as avodah zarah (pagan prac- 
tice)." Yet Hoffman does note and admit that the Prague rabbinate 
permitted in one synagogue the use of the organ for the accompani- 
ment of zemirot prior to the chanting of Psalm 93. (This would 
mean that, the preliminary psalms and the L'khaDodi hymn were 
also accompanied by the organ!) The reason for such a concession 
to use of the organ, as Hoffman understands it, is that since music 
was employed for the cheering of bride and groom, how much more 
fitting was its use for the greeting of Bride Sabbath herself! Indeed, 
a zemirah (Sabbath-hymn), the words of which Hoffman cites at 
length, compares the Kabbalat Shabbat service to a wedding. The 
Prague authorities therefore declared instrumental music appropriate 
for the Inauguration of the Sabbath. 26 

But why was Bride Sabbath greeted with an orgnn, of all in- 
struments? Abraham Berliner cites many places where organ music 
was played in the synagogue, particularly in Italy." Yet even he does 
not know exactly what to make of it. Ahraham Idelsohn notes that 
a Prague synagogue, built in 1594, "was equipped with an organ and 
a special orchestra organized to play and to accompany different 
songs including L'kha Dodi on Friday evening, which number was 
elaborated into a concert of more than an hour's length. The same 
concerts were held in almost all the nine synagogues of Prague, 
including the "Alt-Neu-Schul" in which a new portable organ, built 
by a Jewish builder. Rabbi Maier Mahler, was installed in 1716. 
There is a report of instrumental music in the synagogues around 
the beginning of the eighteenth century in the communities of 
Nikolsburg, Offenhach, Furth, dc" 28 Idelsohn attributes this pro- 
liferation of organ consoles to (1) the Kabbalistic stress upon the 
importance of receiving the Sabbath with music, which began with 
Isaac Luria (1534-1572): and (2) to the custom in the German 
Protestant Church to perform cantatas of instrumental and choral 
selections before the Sunday service. 29 Thus, both external and 



19 

internal influences led to the greeting of the Sabbath Bride with 
music. Note that this occurred in just about every Prague syna-, 
gogue and not just, in one, as David Hoffman argued. 

Whatever the reason for "cantatas" in the synagogue on Sab- 
bath Eve, the organ was almost universally chosen as the appropriate 
instrument of accompaniment and entertainment. This deeply dis- 
turbed Hoffman. Why such a "Christian" instrument,? 

Hoffman's answer is logical, but amusing: The organ was used 
in Prague during the sixteenth century because it was not yet. an 
instrument indigenous to the churches! This "historical theorizing" 
is a necessity to Hoffman, who constructs an elaborate analysis of 
hukkat ha-goyim on the basis of a contradiction between Sanhedrin 
52b and avodah zarah Ma. The former claims that funeral pyres 
lit in honor of kings is not. exclusively an imitation of Gentile 
idolatry, since there is a reference to "the burnings of your fathers" 
in Jeremiah 34:5. The latter declares that the Rabbis do not allow 
such burnings, since they are an instance when death provides an 
opportunity for avodah zarah (idolatry). Hoffman cites five attempts 
by traditional authorities to reconcile these texts, and finds in each 
a proscripion of the use of the organ in the synagogue: 

(1) Even if something is not condemned by the Torah as 
idolatry, but if it later acquires that connotation, then it must be 
forbidden. Organ music, even if it had its analogue in Temple 
worship, is now associated with non-Jewish cults. (Here, Hoffman 
takes the opportunity to revise his previous, far-fetchecd analogy 
between the organ and the matzevot While the latter are specifically 
forbidden by the Torah after having been permitted, the former is 
never specifically forbidden in the Torah. Hoffman therefore cites 
authorities who make it prohibited by association.) 

(2) The Torah forbids all acts which may lead one to idolatry. 
If something is associated with idolatry, but is also grounded in 
nature and human needs, it is not necessarily forbidden. The organ, 
however, is used exclusively in non-Jewish cults. 

(3) Lighting the funeral pyre was originally a practice common 
to all ancient people, but no longer. Likewise, music during worship 
was once common to all peoples, but faded from Israelite worship 
after the destruction of the Temple, Now both customs are asso- 
ciated only with non-Jewish cults. 

(4) There is great doubt as to whether the organ is actually 
mentioned in the Torah, or included among Biblical instruments, 
just as the custom of kindling the funeral pyre is not specifically 
mentioned in the Torah. Thus, there is no reason to call for the 



20 

"revival" of a tradition which does not derive from clear Biblical 
commandment or precedent. 

(5) The organ, like the pyre-ritual, is not simply something 
borrowed from outsiders (which in itself does not necessarily make 
it prohibited), but is something now used by outsiders and for no 
other purpose than their alien rituals. 30 

Hoffman adds a dimension to hukkat ha-goyim which I have 
not found in most polemics against the organ. In addition to the 
above reasons for proscribing its use, he asserts that it is to be 
shunned because it is advocated by "apikorsim" — those who deny 
the fundamentals of J udaism (as he understands them! ) One should 
avoid the organ, even if it is not really a part of foreign cults, be- 
cause its use is advocated by those who make breaches in the Law 
by publicly advocating changes in the liturgy, by denying the coming 
of a personal Messiah, etc. To use the organ is to perpetrate a sin 
which can only lead to others. Hoffman further notes- and not 
without historical basis — that the organ is but one symbol of the 
denial of the importance of J erusalem and of the need to mourn for 
it, since one plays music in the synagogue when it was to be asso- 
ciated only with the Temple. The organ was advocated for this 
reason by those who substituted the Emancipation for the ancient 
prophetic visions.' Yet I believe that this argument hardly applies 
to anyone who has historical sense enough to realize that we cannot 
deny the ancient Temple its special place in the J ewish memory, 
and that music in the modern synagogue need no longer be taken 
as a symbol of such denial, but of a human penchant for music in 
worship which cannot be suppressed. 

In a similar vein to Hoffman, but in a more pithy manner, David 
Deutsch delineates two categories which fall under hukkat ha-goyim, 
one of which is permitted, and one which is not: 

(1) A non-Jewish custom with no religious purpose and no 
relationship to foreign cults may be permitted only if there is some 
common sense purpose, and if it also has Biblical precedent. 

(2) A non-J ewish custom with a religious purpose, related to an 
alien culture, is absolutely prohibited even if there is a common 
sense reason to it. Deutsch regards the organ as entirely of non- 
J ewish influence, and reiterates some of the arguments, cited above, 
which dwell on the limited use of organ-like instruments in the 
Temple. 32 

Despite their overblown rhetoric about hukkat ha-goyim, Ortho- 
dox authoriti es are surprisi ngly wi 1 1 i ng to i mitate Genti I e sensi bi I iti es 
in other matters. It is ironic and amusing that in the responsum im- 



21 

mediately before the one which castigates the use of the organ even 
on weekdays, David Hoffman asserts that tobacco smoking should 
be forbidden in the synagogue at any time because the Gentiles do 
not allow it in their Churches, "and it would be a hillul ha-shem 
(desecration of God's Name) if we permit such behavior while the 
Gentiles prohibit it. 32a A clear case of keeping up with the Gentiles! 

It seems to me that Sigal responds effectively to the charge 
of David Deutsch and others that the organ is exclusively a Church 
instrument: 'That may have been true in 1883 [when Deutsch 
wrote his responsum]. In our day the organ is used for a variety 
of purposes, even as a form of intermission entertainment. When 
you add to this fact that it is neither a prerequisite nor inherent in 
Christian worship, whether Catholic or Protestant, that argument 
becomes wholly untenable." (102) 

Sigal concludes his own discussion of hukkat ha-goyim by citing 
the Shulhan Arukh (the Taz on Yoreh Deah 178:1) which declares 
that the Rabbis may choose to permit certain practices in dress and 
fashion which imitate the fashions of the nobility. Citing some of 
Saul Lieberman's research, Sigal adds that the Rabbis often gave 
in to certain pagan practices which the people could not surrender, 
and that they tried to "J udaize" those practices. Thus, Sigal con- 
cludes that the organ falls into neither category which Isserles, 
following Tosafot on Avodah Zarah Ma, describes as violating huk- 
kat ha-goy : imitating exclusive forms of pagan worship, or par- 
ticipating in its orgiastic, a-moral practices. Furthermore, Leviticus 
18:3 refers to pagan practices, but not to music in worship. And 
even if it were basic to Christian worship, we still have the precedent 
of those Rabbis who appropriated even pagan practices! (104) 

Samuel Krauss, a defender of the use of the organ, observed 
that it was absurd of Orthodox scholars to accuse Reform leaders 
of adopting the organ because it was a Christian practice. After all, 
Abraham Geiger, the founder of German Reform J udaism, was as 
fierce a polemicizer against Christianity as he was against J ewish 
Orthodoxy, and said that he would battle all blind attempts to ape 
the Christians. He did advocate use of the organ, however, because 
he felt that it was called for by good taste.)' 

The proscription known as hukkat ha-goyim may, I believe, be 
dismissed as a rather weak argument against the use of the organ, 
which today is associated not only with Church music, but is re- 
garded as the concert instrument par excellence, and has enhanced 
synagogue music now for more than a century and a half. It has 



22 

been said that the modern pipe organ is capable of producing more 
varied sounds than a full symphony orchestra. 

Any critical study of the texts dealing with hukkat ha-goyim 
will indicate that this is not really a halachic category, but a matter 
of aesthetics, subject to the tastes of individuals. This brings us to 
the fourth and final subject of our excursus- the question of 
aesthetics, which is rarely discussed in most polemics. 

THE ISSUE OF AESTHETICS 

In his brief polemic against the Sigal teshuvah, Rabbi Samuel 
Rosenblatt insists that even if it could be proved that Jewish Law 
was not. completely opposed to the use of the organ (a view he does 
not share), we would still be obliged to prohibit its use because of 
the precedent of minhag (custom), which after so many centuries 
is stronger than law itself! 34 Yet this argument hardly seems appro- 
priate once we consider that minhagim have generally originated 
with the local usages of the people, whereas the "minhag" of not 
using instrumental or vocal music was imposed upon the people by 
Rabbinic authorities, who were never really obeyed because their 
imposition was contrary to human nature! 

Phillip Sigal seems to touch upon more fertile ground in his 
citation of the Taz to the effect that "when the Torah says nothing 
on the subject, the Rabbis are entitled to determine what would be 
called hukkat hngoyim and might choose to permit certain prac- 
tices," such as imitating the fashions of the nobility. (103) Here, 
we see that the issue is clearly one of aesthetics. Unfortunately, 
Sigal did not develop this argument further. Yet, in the study by 
Boaz Cohen to which we referred above, we find that aesthetics had 
a great deal to do with the relaxing of the prohibition on instru- 
mental music, especially where weddings were concerned, In the 
Middle Ages, music became indispensable to German Jewish wed- 
dings. Boaz Cohen cites this incident from the beginning of the 
fifteenth century: 

. . . I n one of t.he German states the wife of the Prince 
died and a year of mourning was declared, during which period 
music was forbidden. At that time a wedding was to have 
taken place in the locality. The people, perplexed as to the 
propriety of celebrating a Jewish wedding without music, sent 
an inquiry to R. Jacob Moll in as to how to proceed. The rabbi 
replied in very definite terms that music was absolutely essential 
at a wedding and advised them to perform the ceremony else- 



23 

where. Consequently they went from Eppsenstein toMayence 

in order to comply with the rabbi's decision.!' 
Cohen further notes that it was a Polish Talmudist, Rabbi Joel 
Sirkes (16th-17th century) who permitted the adoption of Gentile 
airs, not chanted in church, for synagogue music, and that eighteenth 
century Italian authorities cited Sirkes when they permitted the use 
of well-known love songs and dance tunes for Jewish worship. 35 

Toward the end of his study, Boaz Cohen cites what he regards 
as the "remarkably liberal view" of Rabbi Israel Moses Hazan (nine- 
teenth-century Italy), who describes in one of his teshuvot the efforts 
of various renowned scholars and cantors of Smyrna to frequent 
Christian churches and to seek out the most humbling melodies for 
use during the Kaddish and Kedushah of Rosh Hashanah. This 
practice was justified by the Geonic view that as long as the cantor 
chants in Hebrew, he may use any melody. 37 

What Cohen does not cite, however, are the views of various 
Sephardic authorities who permitted the use of the organ on week- 
days. Rabbi Shem-Tob Samun (Lenghorn) and Yaacov Recanatte 
(1759-1834) permitted the use of the organ,!' and thrir decision was 
accepted (albeit reluctantly) by some of the most illustrious and 
saintly Sephardic scholars of later years." As Drjose Faur, Pro- 
fessor of Codes at the Jewish Theological Seminary has noted, nine- 
teenth-century Sephardic authorities permitted the hiring of Gentiles 
to play on the Sabbath during a religious celebration (such as cir- 
cumcision) on the grounds of shvut de-shvut leshem mitzvah mutar 
-the argument that a Gentile may be called to perform an act 
proscribed by the rules of shvut when there is a mitzvah of celebra- 
tion to be performed. Yet we noted above that even the prohibition 
of music on the grounds of shvut is quite weak, once the sources are 
closely examined! Faur also cites several references to the use of 
Gentile musicians by the Sephardim on the Sabbath, as well as to 
their use on the holy days in the synagogue itself, during the inter- 
lude when the Torah was returned to the ark. 

In examining two important Sephardic teshuvot which oppose 
the use of the organ, Faur notes that a Rabbi Chayim Palaggi, al- 
though personally against the use of the organ, did not specifically 
denounce that instrument as asur (halakhically forbidden), and that 
a Rabbi. Yaacov Shaul Elyashar (1817-1906), a staunch but not 
very convincing opponent of the organ, was more influenced by 
Ashkenazic than by Sephardic authorities. 40 

From the studies of Boaz Cohen and Jose Faur, we may con- 
clude that while both Ashkenazic and Sephardic communities could 



24 

not be restrained by the old prohibition against vocal and instru- 
mental music, it was the Sephardic world which was the most toler- 
ant of, and amenable to, the music of its neighbors. Faur explains: 
"It was the general standard of Sephardi rabbis that J ewish par- 
ticipation in the cultural activities of society at large was to be 
encouraged as long as it did not conflict with fundamental J ewish 
values and institutions. If conflict arises, the preservation of J ewish 
values and institutions must take precedence." 41 What Faur sug- 
gests is that in halakhic questions which relate exclusively to taste 
and to aesthetics, the Sephardic authorities saw no reason not to 
share general preferences (even in church music! ), since the creative 
arts are universal in their appeal and in their effect. 

Throughout these pages, we have repeatedly seen the weak- 
nesses of the various "halakhic" arguments against the use of the 
organ in the synagogue, whether on weekdays or on the Sabbath 
and Holy Days. We noted that the prohibition of instrumental and 
vocal music, out of mourning for the Temple, proved historically to 
be an excessively stringent measure which the people circumvented 
early after its enactment. We saw that various Sabbath prohibi- 
tions, including shvut, which have long been invoked against the 
use of the organ, simply do not apply when carefully examined. And 
finally, we reviewed the arguments on the basis of "imitation of 
Gentile statutes," which were always subjective, often ambiguous, 
and sometimes humorous. At the same time, we saw that the modern 
teshuuot which support the use of the organ can be equally subjec- 
tive, and often invoke forced and unnecessary rationalizations, such 
as the alleged use of the "pipe organ" in the Temple and the sug- 
gestion that the modern synagogue ought to be equated with the 
Temple in halakhic literature. 

When all is said and done, however, the decision to use or to 
proscribe the organ is entirely a aesthetic decision. From the 
Sephardim, we ought to learn that matters of aesthetics are uni- 
versal, and that the category of "imitation of Gentile statutes" can- 
not be invoked when the creative arts are involved, lest the J ew be 
cut off from all valid artistic expression in his worship. Those who 
continue to find the organ alien and annoying have every right to 
reject it on similarly aesthetic grounds. After all, the aesthetic of 
acappella worship is embraced by Isalm, many Christian churches, 
and other religions. Neither instrumental music or its absence can 
be regarded as specifically "Jewish" or "pagan." Both alternatives 
are grounded in aesthetics shared by many peoples and religions, 
ancient and modern. 



25 

There are no teshuvot which reveal more subjectivity than the 
modern responsum on the use of the organ. Few issues have invoked 
as many halachic responses to what is in fact beyond the scope of 
halachah, and grounded in the world of aesthetics. These teshuvot 
demonstrate that, where issues which reach beyond the halachah are 
concerned, it is best to employ halachic arguments only for halachic 
issues, and to be open-minded or at least honest regarding issues 
which are basically aesthetic in nature.* 

* At the close of this essay, the author would like to acknowledge his 
indebtedness to Rabbi Stanley Platek, who offered various bi biographical sug- 
gestions, and encouraged this project. He is also grateful to Mr. Ben Si I Ger- 
man, for helping him to study some of the German sources. 



NOTES 

: Conservative.! udaism, Spring-Summer 1963. 

2 Mishnah Sotah 9: 11. 

3 See Tumid 5:6. 
4Sukkah, ch. 5. 

5 See, also, A. Idelsohn, J ewish Music, p. 12. 

6 Samuel Krauss, Zur Orgelfrage (Wien, 1919). pp. 12 ff. 
1 Ibid. 

8 Orakh Hayim 560:3. 

9 Boaz Cohen, 'The Responsum of Maimonides Concerning Music," in 
Law and Tradition in J udaism (N.Y.: Jewish Theological Seminary, 1959), 
p. 181. 

ID Mishnah Eruvin 10: 13 and Eruvin 102b. 

11 On ibid. 

12 Orakh Hayim 338:1. 
B On ibid. 

14 He cites Dayan Gruenfeld, The Sabbath (London: Soncino, 1954). 
pp. 51ff. 

15 On Eruoin 104a. 

16 See David Philipson. The Reform Movement in J udaism (many eds.), 
p. 182. 

17 Boaz Cohen, "Sabbath Prohibitions Known as Shebut," in op. cit, pp. 
157-8. See Tosafot on Sukkah 50b. 

18 Ibid., p. 158. 

19 Conservative J udaism. Spring-Summer 1963, pp. 108-9. 

20 Ibid., p. 109. 

21 Ibid. 
21a Ibid. 

22 Si gal cites Rabbi Solomon B. Freehoff's apt observation that the organ 
was never universally used in Church worship. See Reform J ewish Practice I, 
p. 43. Krauss notes this, p. 20. 

23 David Hoffman, Mdamed La-Ho'il (N.Y., 1954). p. 18. 



26 

U See Yehezkel Kaufman. The Religion of Isruel, tr. Moshe Greenberg 
(N.Y.: Schocken, 1966). pp. 173 ff. 

25 Ibid., p. 14. 

26 Ibid., p. 15. 

27 See A. Berliner. Bav'at Ha-UgaV bebeit hak'nesset, in Ketavin Niv- 
bar-in (Palestine, 1945), vol. I, pp. 173 ff. See also, Samuel K rauss, Korot 
Batei Hat-fillah be-yisrael (N.Y.: Histadrut Ha-ivrit, 1955), pp. 301 ff. 

28 Idelsohn. p. 205. 

29 Ibid., pp. 205-6. 

30 Hoffman, op. cit., pp. 12-13. 

31 Ibid., p. 18. 

tt Ibid., p. 11. This was also noted by Jonathan M. Brown, in Modern 
Challenge to Halakhah (Chicago: White Hall for Hebrew Union College, 
1969). p. 89. 

33 K rauss, op. cit. 

34 In Conservative Judaism Spring-Summer 1963. 

35 Boaz Cohen, pp. 177-8. 

36 Ibid., p. 178. 

37 Cited hy Jose Faur. in "Sephardim in the Nineteenth Century: New 
Directions and Old Values," Proceedings of the American Academy for J ewish 
Research (Jerusalem, 1977), pp. 49-50. Boaz Cohen discusses it on p. 179. 

38 Faur, p. 49. 

39 Ibid. 

40 Ibid., p. 50. 

41 Ibid. 



27 

ON CHURCH MUSIC 

c. s. LEWIS 

C.S. Lewis (1898-1963) held the Chair of Medieval and 
Rennaisance English Litcrczture at Cambridge University He won 
a reputation as a brilliant lecturer, teacher and scholar. He was also 
the author of a large array of books, both popular and scholarly. 
Lewis wrote science fiction, and essays on religious and philosphical 
themes with equal grace and success. He was a de/out Christian 
who enjoyed propounding the force of Christian ideas. 

Being himself a man of deep religious faith his essays on re- 
ligious themes are, many of them, universal in outlook and apply 
equally, in principle, to all faiths. 

We bdie/e that much of what Mr. Lewis has to say will be 
meaningful to our readers. 

The essay "On Church Music" is used by permission of the 
publisher of "Christian Reflections," a collection of essays published 
by the Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., copyright in 1967, and 
edited by Walter Hooper. 

I am a layman and one who can boast no musical education. I 
cannot even speak from the experience of a lifelong churchgoer. It 
follows that. Church Music is a subject on which I cannot, even in 
the lowest, degree, appear as a teacher. My place is in the witness 
box. If it concerns the court to know how the whole matter appears 
to such as I (not only laicus but Zaicissimus) I am prepared to give 
my evidence. 

I assume from the outset that nothing should be done or sung 
or said in church which does not aim directly or indirectly either at 
glorifying God or edifying the people or both. A good service may 
of course have a cultural value as well, but that is not what it exists 
for; just as, in an unfamiliar landscape, a church may help me to 
find the points of the compass, but was not built for that purpose. 

These two ends, of edifying and glorifying, seem to me to be 
related as follows. Whenever we edify, we glorify, but when we 
glorify we do not always edify. The edification of the people is an 
act of charity and obedience and therefore in itself a glorification 
of God. But it is possible for a man to glorify God in modes that 
do not edify his neighbour. This fact confronted the Church at an 
early stage in her career, in the phenomenon called 'speaking with 
tongues'. In I Corinthians XIV, St. Paul points out that the man 



28 

who is inspired to speak in an unknown tongue may do very well, 
as far as he himself is concerned, but will not profit the congregation 
unless his utterance can be translated. Thus glorifying and edifying 
may come to be opposed. 

Now at first sight to speak with unknown tongues and to sing 
anthems which are beyond the musical capacity of the people would 
seem to be very much the same kind of thing. It looks as if we ought 
to extend to the one the embargo which St. Paul places on the 
other. And this would lead to the forbidding conclusion that no 
Church Music is legitimate except that which suits the existing 
taste of the people. 

In reality, however, the parallel is not perhaps so close as it 
seems. In the first place, the mode after which a speech in an 
unknown tongue could glorify God was not, I suppose, the same as 
the mode after which learned music is held to do so. It is (to say 
the least) doubtful whether the speeches in tongues' claimed to 
glorify God by their aesthetic quality. I suppose that they glorified 
God firstly by being miraculous and involuntary, and secondly by 
the ecstatic state of mind in which the speaker was. The idea behind 
Church Music is very different. It glorifies God by being excellent 
in its own kind; almost as the birds and flowers and the heavens 
themselves glorify Him. In the composition and highly-trained exe- 
cution of sacred music we offer our natural gifts at their highest to 
God, as we do also in ecclesiastical architecture, in vestments, in 
glass and gold and silver, in well-kept parish accounts, or the careful 
organization of a Social. And in the second place, the incapacity of 
the people to 'understand' a foreign language and their incapacity 
to 'understand' good music are not really the same. The first applies 
absolutely and equally (except for a lucky accident) to all the mem- 
bers of the congregation. The second is not equally present or 
equally incurable perhaps in any two individuals. And finally, the 
alternative to speech in an unknown tongue was speech in a known 
tongue. But in most discussions about Church Music the alternative 
to learned music is popular music-giving the people 'what they 
like' and allowing them to sing (or shout) their 'old favourites'. 

It is here that the distinction between our problem and St. 
Paul's seems to me to be the sharpest. That words in a known 
tongue might edify was obvious. Is it equally obvious that the 
people are edified by being allowed to shout their favourite hymns? 
I am well aware that the people like it. They equally like shouting 
Auld Lang Syne in the streets on New Year's Eve or shouting the 
latest music-hall song in a tap-room. To make a communal, familiar 



29 

noise is certainly a pleasure to human beings. And I would not be 
thought to despise this pleasure. It is good for the lungs, it pro- 
motes good fellowship, it is humble and unaffected, it is in every 
way a wholesome, innocent thing-as wholesome and innocent as 
a pint of beer, a game of darts, or a dip in the sea. But is it, any 
more than these, a means of edification? No doubt it can be done — 
all these things can be done-eating can be done — to the glory 
of God. We have an Apostle's word for it. The perfected Christian 
can turn all his humblest, most secular, most economic, actions in 
that direction. But if this is accepted as an argument for popular 
hymns it will also be an argument for a good many other things. 
What we want to know is whether untrained communal singing is 
in itself any more edifying than other popular pleasures. And of this 
I for one, am still wholly unconvinced. I have often heard this noise; 
I have sometimes contributed to it. I do not yet seem to have found 
any evidence that the physical and emotional exhilaration which it 
produces is necessarily, or often, of any religious relevance. What 
I, like many other laymen, chiefly desire in church are fewer, better, 
and shorter hymns; especially fewer. 

The case for abolishing all Church Music whatever thus seems 
to me far stronger than the case for abolishing the difficult work of 
the trained choir and retaining the lusty roar of the congregation. 
Whatever doubts I feel about the spiritual value of the first I feel 
at least equally about the spiritual value of the second. 

The first and most solid conclusion which (for me) emerges is 
that both musical parties, the High Brows and the Low, assume far 
too easily the spiritual value of the music they want. Neither the 
greatest excellence of a trained performance from the choir, nor the 
heartiest and most enthusiastic bellowing from the pews, must be 
taken to signify that any specifically religious activity is going on. 
It may be so, or it may not. Yet the main sense of Christendom, 
reformed and unreformed, would be against us if we tried to banish 
music from the Church. It remains to suggest, very tentatively, the 
ways in which it can really be pleasing to God or help to save the 
souls of men. 

There are two musical situations on which I think we can be 
confident that a blessing rests. One is where a priest or an organist, 
himself a man of trained and delicate taste, humbly and charitably 
sacrifices his own (aesthetically right) desires and gives the people 
humbler and coarser fare than he would wish, in a belief (even, as 
it may be, the erroneous belief) that he can thus bring them to God. 
The other is where the stupid and unmusical layman humbly and 



30 

patiently, and above all silently, listens to music which he cannot, 
or cannot fully, appreciate, in the belief that it somehow glorifies 
God, and that if it does not edify him this must be his own defect. 
Neither such a High Brow nor such a Low Brow can be far out of 
the way. To both, Church' Music will have been a means of grace; 
not the music they have liked, but the music they have disliked. 
They have both offered, sacrificed, their taste in the fullest sense. 
But where the opposite situation arises, where the musician is filled 
with the pride of skill or the virus of emulation and looks with con- 
tempt on the unappreciative congregation, or where the unmusical, 
complacently entrenched in their own ignorance and conservatism, 
look with the restless and resentful hostility of an inferiority com- 
plex on all who would try to improve their taste ~ there, we may 
be sure, all that both offer is unblessed and the spirit that moves 
them is not the Holy Ghost, 

These highly general reflections will not, I fear, be of much 
practical use to any priest or organist in devising a working com- 
promise for a particular church. The most they can hope to do is 
to suggest that the problem is never a merely musical one. Where 
both the choir and the congregation are spiritually on the right, road 
no insurmountable difficulties will occur. Discrepancies of taste and 
capacity will, indeed, provide matter for mutual charity and humility. 

For us, the musically illiterate mass, the right way is not hard 
to discern; and as long as we stick to it, the fact that we are capable 
only of a confused rhythmical noise will not do very much harm, 
if, when we make it, we really intend the glory of Cod. For if that 
is our intention it follows of necessity that we shall be as ready to 
glorify Him by silence (when required) as by &outs. We shall also 
be aware that the power of shouting stands very low in the hierarchy 
of natural gifts, and that it would be better to learn to sing if we 
could. If any one tries to teach us we will try to learn. If we cannot 
learn, and if this is desired, we will shut up. And we will also try 
to listen intelligently. A congregation in this state will not complain 
if a good deal of the music they hear in church is above their heads. 
It, is not the mere ignorance of the unmusical that really resists 
improvements. It. is jealousy, arrogance, suspicion, and the wholly 
detestable species of conservatism which those vices engender. How 
far it may be politic (part of the wisdom of the serpent) to make 
concessions to the 'old guard' in a congregation, I would not like 
to determine. But I do not think it can be the business of the Church 
greatly to co-operate with the modern State in appeasing inferiority 
complexes and encouraging the natural man's instinctive hatred of 



31 

excellence. Democracy is all very well as a political device. It must 
not intrude into the spiritual, or even the aesthetic, world. 

The right way for the musicians is perhaps harder, and I, at any 
rate, can speak of it with much less confidence. But it seems to me 
that we must define rather carefully the way, or ways, in which 
music can glorify God. There is, as I hinted above, a sense in which 
all natural agents, even inanimate ones, glorify God continually by 
revealing the powers He has given them. And in that sense we, 
as natural agents, do the same. On that level our wicked actions, in- 
sofar as they exhibit our skill and strength, may he said to glorify 
God, as well as our good actions. An excellently performed piece 
of music, as a natural operation which reveals in a very high degree 
the peculiar powers given to man, will thus always glorify God 
whatever the intention of the performers may be. But that is a 
kind of glorifying which we share with 'the dragons and great deeps', 
with the 'frosts and snows'. What is looked for in us, as men, is 
another kind of glorifying, which depends on intention. How easy 
or how hard it may be for a whole choir to preserve that intention 
through all the discussions and decisions, all the corrections and 
disappointments, all the temptations to pride, rivalry and ambition, 
which precede the performance of a great work, I (naturally) do 
not know. But it is on the intention that all depends. When it 
succeeds, I think the performers are the most enviable of men; 
privileged while mortals to honour God like angels and, for a few 
golden moments, to see spirit and flesh, delight and labour, skill 
and worship, the natural and the supernatural, all fused into that 
unity they would have had before the Fall. But I must insist that 
no degree of excellence in the music, simplv as music, can assure us 
that this paradisal state has been achieved. The excellence proves 
'keenness'; but men can he 'keen' for natural, or even wicked, 
motives. The absence of keenness would prove that they lacked the 
right spirit,; its presence does not prove that they have it, We must 
beware of the naive idea that our music can 'please' Cod as it would 
please a cultivated human hearer. That is like thinking, under the 
old Law. that He really needed the blood of bulls and goats. To 
which an answer came, 'Mine are the cattle upon a thousand hills', 
and 'if I am hungry, I will not tell thee, 1 If God (in that sense) 
wanted music, He would not tell us. For all our offerings, whether 
of music or martyrdom, are like the intrinsically worthless present 
of a child which a father values indeed, but values only for the 
intention.' 



32 

REVIEW OF NEW MUSIC 

'Three Sayings of Hillel" (Do not Separate Yourself, Do Not 
Judge, In a Place) for Tenor, SATB chorus, organ accompaniment, 
by Stephen Richards, Transcontinental Music Publications, New 
York. 

Stephen Richards has taken three meaningful texts from Pirkei 
Avot and has adorned them with strong musical settings. If we are 
to judge from this work, Mr. Richards proves himself to be a gifted 
composer, with a talent and feeling for combining music with words. 

"Do Not Separate Yourself" is marked by a distinctive rhythmic 
pattern with the voices and accompaniment moving in response to 
each other. The middle section is a solo for the tenor in which the 
mood becomes lyrical in a beautiful legato melody, set to the original 
Hebrew. (The choral section is set to the English text). Under the 
solo, Richards has provided the organ with an interesting ascending 
bass scale adding intensity to the solo voice. Following the solo, the 
composer returns to a rhythmical a tempo, although marked ppp. 
Having started in A minor, the composer concludes the piece in F# 
minor as the chorus softly intones, "Do not separate yourself from 
the community." 

The second of the three sections, "Do Not judge Your Fellow 
Man," opens with an interesting accompaniment under a legato solo 
for the tenor who, in Hebrew, intones "Al tad in et haverkha ad 
shetagia lim'komo". This is quickly taken up by the chorus which 
repeats the phrase in English, "Do not judge your fellow man until 
you have been in his place." The final section, which proves to be 
the most interesting, is in the form of a fugue written for the chorus 
reiterating the words. The solo voice brings the piece to a close. 
It is interesting to note that here again the key is A minor, but 
the solo line concludes the work in a joyous E major. 

In contrast to the first two sections, the third piece is marked, 
"Very intense", and has the quality of a religious chorale. There 
are soprano and alto solos, along with the tenor, chorus and organ. 
The soprano and alto solos intone the first section of the text, 
which is then taken up by the chorus in a reprise of the melody. 
Under the tenor solo, "Bamakom she-eyn anashim hishtadel lihiyot 
ish," the choir sings, "In a place where there are no men, strive to 
be a man." As is the case in the second piece, the tenor solo brings 



33 

the work to a close in A minor, the same key in which the cycle 
began. 

A chorus of even moderate competence should find this work 
of Stephen Richards a welcome addition to the repertoire. Not only 
are the choral parts beautiful, but the solos are lovely. The ac- 
companiments will prove interesting and challenging to the organist 
or pianist. 

"I Will Bethroth You," for Tenor solo, SATB and organ ac- 
companiment, by Max Sinzheimer, Transcontinental Music Publi- 
cations, New York. 

This piece proves to be a charming arrangement of a most 
beautiful text. Mr. Sinzheimer has managed to capture its beauty 
in a free flowing anti phonal setting for solo and chorus. The work is 
written very simply in the warm key of G minor. 

For synagogue choirs anxious to find new music for weddings, 
this composition should be a welcome addition. 

Morton Shames 



Morton Shames is the hazzan of Temple Beth El, Springfield, 
Mass., Vice President of the Cantors Assembly and Editor of "The 
Journal of Synagogue Music." 



34 

MUSIC SECTION 

Hugo C. Adler was born in Antwerp in 1894, grew up in Ham- 
burg, Germany. After a period of study in Cologne where he pre- 
pared for a career in education and music he was appointed Cantor 
of the Central Synagogue in Manheim. As a student of Ernest Toch 
his creative talents flowered into a number of oratorios, "J ob," 'To 
Zion," "Balak and Bilaam," and "Akedah." 

He emigrated to the United States in 1939. After a short period 
in New York he became Cantor at Temple Emanuel in Worcester, 
Massachusetts, a position he held with great distinction for fifteen 
years, until his death in 1955. 

He was a prolific composer, and arranger, and has hundreds of 
synagogue compositions to his credit. He is the father of the noted 
American composer, Samuel Adler. 

The Torah Service which follows is from an out-of-print pub- 
lication of some of Hugo Adler's finest compositions, published in 
Leipzig in 1935 by M. W. Kaufman, well known publisher of major 
Jewish works in pre-war Germany. The collection, "SCHIRAH 
CHADASHAH" is sub-titled "A Suite of Hebrew Choruses." A 
number of the selections were published individually after Adler's 
escape to America, but to the best of our knowledge, this Torah 
Service, according to the German minhag, has never been available 
elsewhere in America. 

The service is published here thanks to the generous permission 
of Samuel Adler who owns the copyright and reserves all rights for 
future publication and performance. 

S.R. 



35 



o*rrun note mm -noab hhdt 



ffir Owson^emiKWw (horgnd Orgtl for Chawn, mi*ed Choir and Qgon 






Pratludium 



$r*t>t 




gnJ^l^rSS 




36 







«w Jr» #f «ti#»- « 




fe 



Al miji -j#w f< - j* rf* -*•**,»-&**■ + -&•»#, *m~ r*/-*tk* -/« 






^ 




37 








38 




39 



jVTW jpjg_im 




fH 1 ' j ! iTnTf ;1"j^ 




»Zi|Mr 



40 




irtiln -rrt* 



r Ck»39n 




41 










^^^^ f^^^mmm 




= ^^ l?-^ii 



i-r^:: 






Amt' 

id 









t~ 



l.-.j 



^Z^^^^^iri:)^ if^ T- Wff ^^ j 






wm^m 









r r 










42 




43 




minn nittt 




44 



own -imt 




45 



Tuj Uriah 




46 



1».T> 




fir fli r / nifT^i g r | |Hr nr r i i, 1 






—jim, #*-)» ~~t-tP*f Af-s*n •*• «*» — 



j F^ftr-rhH-Hh-lT "lM rie HU*i.lin?jM m \? m I * ^m 




47 



ion D**n fy 










*H*vtm Chvro. 



48