Barukh Strassburger’s Hebrew book Reshimot Shenot Dor carries the English explanatory subtitle “Timely Reflections and Timeless Rabbinic Ideas” (Memories, Remarks, notes, lectures, speeches).
The volume is verily a collection of comments, explanations and articles, of addresses at family celebrations and speeches on public occasions (such as the dedication of a new operating room at the Hadassah, Jerusalem or the opening of a library at the ORT educational center in Holon) and of maxims, observations and expressions culled from the Bible, the Talmud, the Midrash and rabbinic literature.
Only a little of the ‘volume’s rich contents can be discussed here.
One article describes the beautifully illuminated Kaufmann Mishneh Torha codex, now in the possession of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. The manuscript which is the oldest handwritten copy of Maimonides code to have been preserved in its entirety was written in the year 1295-1296, probably in Northern France. A selection of the illuminated pages of the manuscript was published by Strassburger in 1984, accompanied by scholarly articles in English discussing Maimonides’ life and work, the manuscript and its illuminations.
Strassburger is the proud owner of a Seder cup which once belonged to Rabbi Moshe Sofer of Pressburg (Hatam Sofer). We read the following about it. It was the custom of the Hatam Sofer during the saying of Ha Lachma Anya, at the Seder, to lift the Matzot with their bag from the table onto one of his shoulders. He did this in order to exemplify the words of Scripture: “And the people carried the dough before it was leavened… on their shoulders (Exodus 12:34).
One Seder, during the saying of the Ha Lakhma Anyo, as he was carrying the Matzot on his shoulder, the Hatam Sofer asked his first grandchild, Sarl, the daughter of his firstborn, the Ktav Sofer: “How does grandpa look?”
Sarl, who was then three or four years old, answered: “Grandpa looks like a Sand-Goy” (thus the Jews used to call the workers who carried sand from the banks of the Danube which passes by Pressburg — to areas of construction).
The Hatam Sofer was very pleased with the answer. “None of my students or members of the community would have dared to answer me in this manner,” he said to her. “But you are right. I do this in order to look like one of the Israelites, who were leaving the land of slavery carrying the dough on their shoulders.”
Saying this, he took a silver cup from the table and presented it to Sarl. The cup was preserved in Sarl’s family and has come down to Strassburger, who is one of her descendants.
An old saying, well known to lovers of the Hebrew book, speaks of three books, which are not called by the names given to them by their authors. Maimonides entitled his code Mishneh Torah but the work is generally called Yad HaHazaka. Rabbi Isaiah Horowitz named his magnum opus Shnei Luhot HaBrith, but people refer to it as the Shelah. Rabbi Moshe Alshekh named his commentary on the Torah, Torat Moshe. In the rabbinic world it is known as “the Alshekh.”
The reason for this is obvious. People didn’t want to call any work, as important as it might be, the same name they call the Torah (Mishneh Torah is the name of Sefer Devarim) or the Decalog.
Strassburger in his book presents us with his own variant version of that saying. Here appear — in place of R. Alshekh’s Torah Moshe– the writings of the Hatam Sofer. Hatam stands for Hiddushei Torat Moshe (Sofer) but one doesn’t use the full title, only the abbreviation.
(Agnon in his article in the Leo Hermann Memorial Volume, mentions several additional books, which are not called by the names given them by their authors, including Meiri’s Beth HaBehira, which is usually called Meiri and nothing more. The reason, seemingly, is an unwillingness by people to apply to a book a name by which the Beth Hamikdash is known. Agnon doesn’t mention the Hatam Sofer.)
Strassburger is not only a diligent student of Maimonides. He likes to bury himself in the writings of his forebear, the Hatam Sofer. In the book before us are featured a number of sayings of the sages of Pressburg. These include not only the famous Hadash Assur Min HaTorah, the Hatam Sofer’s slogan in his struggle with reformers, and his great praise for Rabbi Moshe Isserles (“Uvnei Yisrael Yotz’im BeYad Rama,” based on Exodus 14:8 etc.), but also a variety of others.
The Jewish Press, Friday, May 5, 1995