Last summer, I served as the rabbinic advisor to the students of the Schottenstein Honors Program at Yeshiva College, as they embarked upon a twelve day visit to Japan. The stay in Japan was an unforgettable experience. It was a non-stop whirlwind of visits to museums, Japanese financial institutions, a Japanese professional baseball game, a sumo wrestling club, Kabuki Theater, beautiful gardens, and much more. I gave a daily shiur on the fourth pereq of Berakhot, and as an added leitmotif I compared the Bavli and Yerushalmi’s positions on various topics therein. We were in Japan the day of the yahrzeit of Ha-Gaon Ha-Rav R. David Lifshitz, zatzal, and that day I dedicated my shiur to his memory. My duties entailed more than that of a Rosh Yeshiva/maggid shiur, however. We had to deal with numerous halakhic issues that occurred during our stay. Here is a brief synopsis of some of them.
The International Date Line and Shabbat in Japan
Japan’s territory consists of a series of islands, all located off the east coast of the Eurasian landmass. Tokyo’s coordinates are approx. 35 degrees, 40 minutes N latitude, and 139 degrees 45 minutes E (of Greenwich) longitude. Jerusalem’s coordinates are 31 degrees, 47 minutes N latitude, longitude, and 35 degrees, 13 minutes E (of Greenwich) longitude. Standard time in Tokyo and Kyoto, the two cities where we stayed, is 14 hours later than Eastern Standard Time (New York), 9 hours later than Greenwich, England, and 7 hours later than standard time in Jerusalem. According to worldwide convention, of course, Japan is situated in the “Far East.” If one travels to Japan from the United States going west, as we did, one would cross the International Date Line, and “jump” 24 hours.
Where is the Halakhic International Date Line? We cannot offer a full treatment here, but I will attempt a brief consideration of the issues. Assuming that the center of the world for purposes of time calculation is Jerusalem, and assuming that the world only consists of 180 degrees of inhabited land, R. Yehudah Ha-Levi in his work Kuzari (Ma’amar Sheni, Pereq Kaph) and the Ba ‘al Ha-Ma’or in his commentary to Massekhet Rosh Ha-Shanah (20b) both conclude that it is a line 90 degrees east of Jerusalem. (That is, it is approximately, 125 degrees east of Greenwich) Hence, any part of East Asia east of 90 degrees east of Jerusalem, is halakhically not the “Far East” but the “Far West!” (A simple version of Kuzari’s shitah can be found in the works of R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin, who discussed the Kuzari’s position, as well as subsequent halakhic controversies on the matter, in his book La-Or Ha-Halakhah.) The Hazon Ish adds the stipulation that any area connected by land to any area less than 90 degrees East of Jerusalem should still be considered the “Far East.” (Kamchatka, in the Far Eastern part of Russia, for example, would be considered the “Far East” even though it is more than 90 degrees east of Jerusalem.) But this distinction does not pertain to the Japanese islands, so in any event they would still be the “Far West.” The upshot of this view is that according to the Kuzari/Ba ‘al Ha-Ma’or/Hazon Ish view, the day that people in Japan consider Shabbat is halakhically, really Friday, and the day that people in Japan consider Sunday is really Shabbat!!
Many rishonim disputed the position of the Kuzari. R. Isaac Yisraeli, for example, the fourteenth century author of the Sefer Yesod Olam, pointed out that the Eurasian landmass extends 90 degrees beyond 24 degrees east of Jerusalem. It would be absurd, he also argued, to have a point on land where on one side the day would be Sunday and on the other side, Monday, twenty four hours later. Carrying such reasoning further, many authorities maintained that the halakhic International Date Line is a line 180 degrees east of Jerusalem. Hence, Japan would still be considered the Far East. Consequently, the “minhag ha-maqom” of the Japanese people regarding the day that they consider as Shabbat would accord, in his view, with the halakhic reality. In the 1600’s, R. David Ganz of Prague, writing in the generation after the Maharal, in his work Nehmad ve-Na ‘im, pointed out that the discovery of America and the concomitant fact that the land is full of people, poses a great problem for the shitah of the Kuzari and the Ba ‘al Ha-Maor, whose position seems to be connected to the (now disproven) premise that the earth only contains 180 degrees of inhabited land. For now that one can no longer claim that only 180 degrees of land on earth is inhabited, one can consequently no longer maintain that land east of 90 degrees east of Jerusalem is automatically defined halakhically as “not min ha-yishuv” (not inhabited)! (The question whether the difficult sugya of nolad qodem hatzot {Rosh Ha-Shanah 20b} can serve as a rationale for Kuzari and Ba ‘al Ha-Ma’or in any event; in other words, whether one can maintain that the discovery of America was irrelevant for this issue, which indeed was the view of the Hazon Ish, will not be discussed here. There certainly is a large number of rishonim (Rashi, Tosafot, Rabad {in the course of his hasagot on Ba ‘al Ha-Maor} and others) who dispute the interpretation of Kuzari and Ba ‘al Ha-Maor to the sugya of nolad qodem hatzot in Rosh ha-Shanah. See Encyclopedia Talmudit, vol. 22, s.v. Yom, column 402.)
During World War II, R. Yehiel Michel Tukichinsky, along with many other Jerusalem rabbinic authorities, who were faced with the question of Shabbat for refugees who were in Kobe, Japan, disputed the Hazon Ish’s position quite strongly. R. Tukichinsky, who wrote a monograph called Ha-Yomam on the topic, claimed that the International Date line should consist of a line that is 180 degrees east of Jerusalem. Accordingly, he maintained that the refugees in Japan should observe the day of Shabbat that the Japanese felt was Saturday. (This issue had ramifications, of course, for Yom Kippur as well.) At the time (1941), the Rav Ha-Rashit in Jerusalem convened a meeting, the result of which was as follows: Without taking a definitive position where the halakhic International Date Line is (for example, whether it should be 180 degrees East of Jerusalem, or 114 degrees east of Jerusalem), the refugees in Japan should not take the Kuzari position into account, and should observe halakhah according to the local Japanese calendar. Hence, Saturday in Japan would be Shabbat, and not Sunday. Yom Kippur should be observed on Wednesday, and not Thursday, as the Hazon Ish maintained. R. Menachem Mendel Kasher, for his part, in his book Qav Ha-Ta’arikh Ha-Yisraeli, went even further and claimed that there is no halakhic notion of an International Date Line at all, and since the Japanese people defined their land as being situated in the Far East and not the Far West, halakhah should reflect that fact as well.
At the end of the day, after all the theoretical issues were hashed and rehashed, we had to make a decision how to proceed. In spite of all the difficulties in the Hazon Ish’s position, how could one simply disregard his view? On the other hand, we couldn’t become paralyzed due to the situation! After much consultation with different Rabbanim (including one who was in the Far East with the Mir yeshiva in Japan during World War Two, and told me that many Yeshiva bahurim then and there were hoshesh for the Hazon Ish’s view, but only for dinim de-oraita.), I concluded that “Shabbat in Japan will be our Shabbat. On Saturday night and on Sunday we will be mahmir like shitat Hazon Ish (that is, consider it Friday night and Shabbat morning) for dinei de-oraita (only). The determination whether something is de-oraita or derabanan will be according to the consensus of posekim.”
Implementing these decisions into our actual schedule would serve to be quite an interesting challenge. Our first problem was to find someone who would act as a “Sunday goy.” (Since amira la-Akum on Shabbat is only assur mi-derabanan, he could perform any melakhot de-oraita, and allow us to have a fuller schedule on Sunday.) We were lucky to have Dr. William Lambert Lee, professor of English literature at Yeshiva College, who directed the Schottenstein Honors program at Yeshiva College, accompany us on the trip. He graciously agreed to serve as the “Sunday goy.” Thus, after Ma’ariv on Saturday night, he lit his Zeppo lighter and used it as the “esh” for our havdalah service.
Our group of 16 students included three students from Sephardic background. This posed an interesting problem on Sunday, as we were considering a trip outside of Tokyo, and the question of tehum Shabbat came into play. Rambam’s view is that there is an issur tehumim min haTorah. (In Sefer Ha-Mitzvot, lo ta’aseh #321, he seems to claim that even tehumim of 2000 amah is min Ha-Torah. In Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Shabbat, 27:1, he retreats from that extreme position and writes that only tehumim of yod bet mil is min ha-Torah.) Ramban, in his hasagot (ad loc.) on Sefer Ha-Mitzvot, strongly disputes Rambam’s view, (in his Hiddushim to Eruvin he also quarrels with the Rif and Rabad for espousing such a view) and writes that he does not care that there is a passage in the Yerushalmi that supports the contention that even according to hakhamim, tehumim is min ha-Torah. The clear assumption of numerous passages in the Bavli, he concludes, is that according to all hakahamim (with the exception of R. Aqiva), the entire notion of tehumim – even of yod bet mil-is only miderabanan. Since the consensus of Ashkenazic posekim is also this way, there would be no problem for them on Sunday to “get on the train and get out of town.” But the Bet Yosef, who follows shitat ha-Rambam, and concludes that tehumim of yod bet mil is assur de-oraita, there would be a problem. According to our guidelines, the Sephardic students would not be allowed to travel too far outside the city. Now, we did not want to “split up the group” mi-lechatchila. In any event, we decided not to leave Tokyo on Sunday.
We did, however, come up with a parallel problem. The Bet Yosef, Orah Hayyim, siman 345, presents the major mahloqet rishonim regarding the definition of reshut ha-rabim. Rashi (Eruvin 6a and 59a), Ba’alei ha-Tosafot, the Semg, Semaq, the Rosh, his son the Tur, indeed, the overwhelming consensus of Ashkenazic rishonim maintain that one needs a congregation of 600,000 people to designate an area as Reshut ha-Rabim. Only if one carries in such an area would one violate hotza’ah min ha-Torah. On the other hand, Rambam, (Pereq yod daleth, Hilkhot Shabbat). The Ramban, Rashba, Ran, Rivash, and a whole host of Sephardic rishonim maintain that an area is designated as reshut ha-rabim exclusively based upon the width of its boulevards (16 amah), and there is no requirement of 600,000 people passing through. On Sunday I ruled that the Ashkenazic students certainly could carry in any area not designated as Reshut ha-Rabim according to Rashi and the other authorities who follow his view. But our group contained the aforementioned three Sephardic students! They certainly could not disregard the more stringent position le-halakhah of the Bet Yosef. Moreover, the large and noisy shopping district we were now planning to go to on Sunday, although not as famous as the heavily populated Ginza district, by all accounts seemed to be a safeq shishim ribo! (Actually, the dispute between the late R. Moshe Feinstein, zatzal and others about whether one measures shishim ribo as a “point” through which 600,000 people pass through, our as a “box” of 12 mil times 12 mil was germane. I thought we should be mahmir as per R. Moshe’s position, especially as we had Dr. Lee’s kind services in any event.)
Once again, Dr. Lee rode to the rescue. He carried the students’ wallets for the entire duration of time that we were in an area that was safeq reshut ha-rabim. Only after we were safely inside the Japanese equivalent of Bloomingdale’s did we retrieve our wallets. Before we left the store, we gave him our wallets again. (Meqah u-memkar inside the store per se and tiltul muqtzeh, were not problems for us, as those issurim are only miderabanan. We could not sign our signatures for purchases via credit cards ke-derekh ketivah, however.) Dr. Lee even carried articles that we had bought in several large knapsacks that he had prepared for the situation. Returning by subway to the (relatively secluded) area where Azabu Court, our hotel/hostel was located, Dr. Lee announced, “Ashkenazim, you may now retrieve your wallets; Sephardim, I will hold on to them until we get to the actual courtyard of the hotel (a halakhic karmelit)”.
Reflecting upon our Shabbat /Sunday experience, I thought of the Ramban’s notion that Zakhor et Yom ha-Shabbat (Exodus 20:8) is a mitzvah that one fulfills every day of the week (e.g., when one recites the shir shel yom prayer.) In a unique way, our challenges on Sunday enhanced our subjective awareness of Shabbat itself, where we are careful not only not to transgress dinei de-oraita but dinei derabanan as well, and we have the additional directive of the Ramban not to be, God forbid, a naval be-reshut ha-Torah on Shabbat. Indeed, the beautiful tefilot and meals, accompanied with heartfelt zemirot by the group (and a “kumsitz” on Friday night.), demonstrated that (even in Japan), one can not only make sure to fulfill the letter of the law according to different shitot le-halakhah, but one can truly rise to the occasion and create for oneself a sublime religious experience on Shabbat anywhere in the world.
Kashrut in Kyoto
In Kyoto (where we stayed for two nights) we faced an interesting dilemma. As there was no Chabad House, if we wanted to eat anything besides the food that we personally brought from Tokyo (or from the U.S.), we would have to go to the “100% vegetarian” Buddhist restaurant (No fish of any type was served in these establishments either). But how can one be sure that the Buddhist laws of “100% vegetarian” did not contain any animal emulsifiers or other ingredients from (non-kosher) animals ? are equivalent to our Hilkhot Ta ‘arovet?
According to the Buddhist doctrine, one may not eat any admixture of animal product. Thus, according to their standards, even if a food contained a mixture of an animal product and vegetable product with a proportion of less than 1/60, it would still be prohibited for a Buddhist to eat it. But how could we be sure that the Buddhist proprietors of the restaurants were not “fooling” everyone (including native Japanese Buddhists who took their dietary laws seriously)? In the final analysis, we relied upon the principle of uman lo mara hezqatei (see Masekhet Hullin 63b, Yoreh De‘ah, 83:7, and see mori ve-rabbi R. Hershel Schacter’s remarks in Or Ha-Mizrach 36:2, Tevet, 5748 {Winter, 1987/88}, pp. 158-59). That is, a practitioner will not willfully destroy his reputation by being dishonest.
In a sense, we faced in the Kyoto of 2007 a situation comparable to that of our parents’ and grandparents’ generation in the United States of the1950’s (before kashrut in America became more sophisticated. Once it became more sophisticated, of course, due to the principle of milta de-efshar le-varurei mevarinan, a kosher consumer in America could no longer simply rely upon “looking at the ingredients” but would be obligated to purchase only a product that has a hashgahah). In those days, as my mother likes to remind me, one would carefully scan the ingredient label to see if a product contained animal shortening or 100% pure vegetable shortening. If the former was the case, one who was strict about kashrut would simply not eat the product. If the latter was the case, one would eat it, evidently relying upon a principle similar to uman lo mara hezqatei. A similar situation existed in Kyoto. We could not know for sure that the proprietors were not lying. Yet according to well-worn halakhic rules, we could assume that they were telling the truth. So we took our shoes off, sat down on our tatami mats and ordered.
Another problem was bishul ‘akum. Although there was no problem with the various soy products and soups that were offered, rice posed a problem. According to the Gemara in Massekhet Aboda Zarah (38a), any food that is classified as “eino oleh ‘al shulhan melakhim” is not subsumed under the rubric of bishul akum. Now, le-halakhah the customs of each country determine whether or not in that country a particular food is “oleh ‘al shulhan melakhim” and hence is prohibited because of bishul akum. In Japan, everyone eats rice, from the poorest peasant to Emperor Akihito. The Emperor might have fancy dishes in which he would eat the food, but the staple remains the same. I ruled that unless we could remove the bishul akum problem, we simply could not eat any rice product. With the help of our Japanese translator, I had to request to the proprietors of the restaurant that I turn on the oven in which our hoped for rice dish would be prepared. In one place I was successful. In the other, however, we arrived too late and the proprietors of the establishment did not want to start a new batch of rice just for us. In this other restaurant, we had to rely on 25 or so different types of soy. (Thankfully, it least in my view, they were quite tasty.)
Temples, Gardens, and “Submitting to the Will of the Almighty”
It may come as surprise to many that historians and philosophers of religion do not classify Buddhism as a polytheistic religion. (This is in contradistinction to the Shinto faith, which is generally recognized to assume the existence of thousands upon thousands of deities.) The Buddha himself was originally conceived as one who has attained enlightenment, (perhaps analogous to our midrashic/kabalistic notions about Hanokh {=Enoch}, or those concerning Elijah.) But the Buddha is not a deity. Thus, a Buddhist temple is technically not a place of ‘aboda zarah to a foreign god. But acts of “foreign worship” in any event certainly take place in the Buddhist Temples. Thus, it would certainly be assur to enter the Temples. (I thought that there would be an additional matter of mar’at ‘ayin here. How many Jews, after all, know that technically worship of the Buddha is not considered worship of a foreign god? Moreover, as we learned in a lecture on the topic, the “amecha” of Buddhist certainly, over the course of time, began to pray to Buddha to help them achieve their various goals in life. This notion certainly violates the fifth of the thirteen principles of Judaism, as formulated by the Rambam. A temple that is designated to be such a place is certainly a “temple of aboda zarah!”)
On the other hand, I concluded that the beautiful gardens, outside the Temples, owned by the Buddhists, did not pose any problem. The only matter which theoretically could have made things difficult would be if there was any “netiyah li-shemah” regarding the various flowers and plants. That is, if the gardens were planted for purposes of worship of the Buddha, there would be a question of asherah, which would thereby make prohibited even walking around the gardens. I did not find any evidence that this was the case. The gardens certainly make one feel serene. And I can assume that Buddhists themselves feel that they can achieve some more enlightenment from leisurely dalliances or sojourns in their gardens. But essentially, the gardens seem to have been planted for aesthetic purposes. Thus, we passed through several of them. (After strolling through the gardens, I thought of Arthur Lovejoy’s essay, “On the Origin of a Chinese Romanticism,” published in his book Essays in the History of Ideas, which I read as an undergraduate at Yeshiva College over 25 years ago. I never dreamed at the time that one day I would actually pass through Japanese gardens…in Japan.)
Halakhah is full of borderline cases. Indeed, as Maran Ha-Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik zatzal pointed out, so much of halakhah is a question of handbreadths, and the like. As the Rav once put it, “When you reach the boundary line, you must submit to the will of the Almighty.” In Japan we faced such a borderline case, one that demonstrated the chasm that can exist between halakhic Jews and others, even well-meaning and sincere individuals, who simply cannot fathom the halakhic way of thinking.
The issue considered was whether we could “pass through a Temple” in order to get to a garden on the other side. (There was apparently, no other way to get to this magnificent garden.) I decided that we simply could not do so. Since one who enters a Buddhist temple, even if he is only temporarily “passing through,” must take his shoes off for the “purification ceremony,” the act of taking off the shoes would be tantamount to performing an act of Aboda Zarah. Consequently, we concluded that it was certainly prohibited even to “pass through” a Buddhist temple in order to reach a veranda on the other side. This caused a certain amount of tension between the group and a professor from another university who accompanied us on our Japanese journey, a recognized expert in the field of Japanese art history, who possessed a positive attitude towards Jews and Judaism, but simply could not understand the boundary lines we erected. Of course, the fact that others do not understand our way of life does not release us from our obligations to maintain our halakhic traditions.
Japanese have a well-worn tradition of a travel diary, in which one, over the course of an excursion, learns some deep and profound truth about oneself, and writes about it. In that vein, I would like to conclude with the following personal reflections.
We are all aware of the tension in Judaism between Jewish universalism and Jewish parochialism, the dichotomy that the Rav, among others, depicted so powerfully. I expected, accordingly, the trip to Japan to reinforce my “universalist” side. It would show, I thought, reinforce my view that so many of the acrimonious disputes that exist today within the Modern Orthodox/ Centrist Orthodox/ Yeshivish/haredi community, arguments full of rancor and vituperation, are just many examples of what Freud called “the narcissism of small differences.” In Japan, after all, when the native population looks at Jews, it does not distinguish between any of these subgroups.
Moreover, and much more fundamentally, however, I expected that the trip would enhance my self-identification, at least with regard to part of my being, as a “citizen of the world.” Then, I thought, after the trip I would go back to YU and resume my career, once again highlighting my particularistic side.
Yet Hashem works in mysterious ways. After the confrontation regarding the garden that could only be reached by “passing through” the Buddhist temple, and after the beautiful Friday night zemirot we sang in Tokyo, I realized that I was actually in the midst of learning another, unexpected lesson. The trip to Japan was a wonderful reinforcement of davka my parochial, particularistic, side! Before the trip, I thought of the prayer of R. Nehuniah ben Ha-Qanah that I should not be, God forbid, nikhshal in any halakhah. After the trip, and again, as I write these words, I thank the Ribono shel Olam for giving me the opportunity to more deeply experience my pride at being an observant Jew and trying to observe all of His commands - wherever I might be.