The Eruv
A complicated and confusing concept.
Judaism is passing though worrisome times, worldwide. What with the resurrection of anti-Semitism, the problem of Agunot, our falling numbers due to our low birth-rate, an estimated fifty percent of our youngsters marrying out and widespread cynicism about religion generally, one would have thought that both our religious and lay leaders had more than enough things to worry about. But from what one reads in the English Jewish Press one of the burning issues of the hour is the establishing of more Eruvim at considerable expense.
So what is an Eruv? What does it do? Is it as important as it is made out to be? The section of Talmud dealing with the Evev is a difficult one to understand, they say. I hope that this essay will help clarify our thoughts so that we may pose questions.
There are several kinds of Eruvim and the discussion here is not about the Eruv which prohibits persons from walking beyond the limits of their place of residence on Shabbat. Originally the maximum distance that one should walk was about 12 miles, some say 7 miles, but the rabbis restricted the distance to 2000 cubits.
The basis for this prohibition is told in the Torah. The Israelites went out on Shabbat to collect manna although Moses had told them not to. They had been told that on Friday two day’s portions would be provided. As a result Moses reprimanded them and told them ‘bide every man in his place, let no man go out of his place on the seventh day’. One commentary interprets this to mean ‘do not go out to collect manna on the seventh day’ but other commentators have widened the interpretation to arrive at the prohibition on walking long distances on Shabbat
The Eruv that we are considering here is a legal fiction which permits, among other benefits, persons to carry objects between different domains on Shabbat. There re four kinds of domain, Public, Private, Karmalit and a Free domain.
The main discussion in all the books and articles on this subject refers to the carrying of objects between the public and private domain and visa versa. I believe that the same principles apply to the other domains.
Usually, the Eruv comprises poles erected at regular intervals around the given area, the poles being joined together by strands of wire, at the top.
Its practical effect is, we are told, that on a Shabbat it allows a person to carry his prayer book and tallit to synagogue, push babies in prams, carry food to their neighbours and so forth, so long as it is done within the boundary of the Eruv. The matter is considered of such vital importance that one section of the orthodox Jewish community strongly and very vocally disapproves of them. It considers that any person enjoying the benefits of the Eruv to be beyond the pale; a non-observant Jew not worthy of being a witness at their weddings or of being ‘called up’ for the Torah reading within their community. Another version of excommunication.
Before discussing the legal fiction of the Eruv I would like to tell of my own experience. I was born in Whitechapel, in the heart of the Jewish East London, mid 1920’s and grew up there during the 1930’s and 1940’s. Its Jewish Inhabitants comprised, in the main, poor families who escaped the terrible conditions of Eastern Europe at the beginning of that century, their children being, mostly, first generation British. On the whole it was a knowledgeable and observant community and kashrut and Shabbat were very widely observed. There were of course exceptions.
On the way home from synagogue on Shabbat, one would see men and women carrying home their cholent, left with the local bakers to cook in their ovens over Friday night, because many homes did not have this facility. On Shabbat afternoon one of our pleasures was visiting the Whitechapel library to exchange books. There was no charge for borrowing books and many observant people, men, women, girls and boys took advantage of this facility. At no time did I hear mention of an Eruv. People tell me that I am mistaken and that it was children carrying the cholent home but we must dismiss their conjecture, as I was there and saw them and they did not.
When we moved to Ilford, the orthodox synagogue’s forecourt was full of prams and on more than one occasion its Minister, a very learned and Torah loving man, would accompany us for lunch and proudly help us push our baby’s pram along.
In the light of these examples can the Eruv really be of such vital importance as is now being promoted? This is something I will now try to explore by reference to various encyclopædias and the books of two rabbinical authorities.
The first book is the Horeb, Vol. 1, written by Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, edited and translated by the late Dayan I. Grunfeld of the London Beth Din. The late Chief Rabbi Dr. I. Jakobovitz wrote, ‘The timely appearance of this translation could open up entirely fresh vistas of religious understanding for many genuinely in search of a modern intelligent exposition of Jewish values’. How right he was.
The second book is The Concise Code of Jewish Law, written by Rabbi Gersion Appel, about whom it is said that he studied in several Yeshivot, acted as rabbi in leading orthodox communities and received his Semicha from Gedolei Hador.
I will be quoting mostly from Rabbi Hirsch’s Horeb, knowing that Rabbi Appel agrees with Rabbi Hirsch. His Chapter 21 opens by quoting several extracts from the Torah, all of which tell us that we must do no work i.e. Malachah, on Shabbat. Both Rabbonim agree that the Torah does not define Melachah and that it is defined by rabbinical decree only which puts a ‘fence around the Law’. They list 39 types of work, Malachot, described as being those acts associated with the productive work involved in the building of the Tabernacle. Of the 39 Malachot listed, the 39th is the carrying from the private domain to the public domain or visa versa.
One commentator explains that what Rabbi Hirsch is saying is ‘Malacha is an act resulting in a significant increase in the utility of some object.
So let us see how Rabbi Hirsch himself defines Malachah. He sets out two principles which underlie the regulations concerning the prohibition of Melachah on the Shabbat. 1) The execution of an intelligent purpose by practical skills, and 2) Any act of pure destruction, however strenuous, is not Melachah. He gives examples: -
”To dig, not for the sake of the pit but for the dug out earth is not Melachah.”
”An activity carried out by two persons in co-operation, which can be carried out by one, is not considered to be Melachah.”
”To tear down a house on the Shabbat is no Melachah but where the destruction is a prelude to reconstruction, then the tearing down is Melachah”
Let us consider his first principle ‘The execution of an intelligent purpose by practical skills.’ ‘Eating’ with a knife and fork falls within this definition but it is not forbidden, indeed it is encouraged. Dressing falls within this definition and it too is not forbidden. There are other similar exceptions, perhaps exempted because they are necessary for the enjoyment of Shabbat. We will return to this aspect later on.
How does Rabbi Hirsch define ‘ the public domain’? The ‘public domain’, he says, are roads, streets and market places which are open on both sides etc. and are used every day, by a population equal in number to the male population in the desert at the time of the exodus from Egypt (i.e. 600,000 persons). This is also the established majority opinion; a minority opinion gives a lesser figure.
Hands up anyone living in a road or street which is used every day by 600.000 persons. If you do then by rabbinical decree only, you require an Eruv. You probably live in the centre of a major city and are not likely to be provided with one.
To me it follows logically that if you live in a road or street that is not used everyday by a population of 600,000 then, by the rabbis’ own definition, you are living on a street which is a private domain and should not require an Eruv. You would be carrying from a private domain (your home) into a private domain (such a street).
Rabbi Appel, mentioned above, is in favour of the Eruv but in his book, page 287, he writes that if you accept the figure of 600,000 there is presently no area that has the status of a public domain.
Developing this point and bearing the figure of 600,000 in mind, we can now ask why is it that the fictional characters I now create, Messrs. Chaim Baruch living in Hillcrest Ave. Golders Green or Moishe Oisher living in Millway, Mill Hill, require a Eruv? 600,000 people do not use any street in their area, any day of the year.
I can understand that, at the time of the building of the tabernacle, and even when building a modern structure, the rabbis would rule, Eruv or no Eruv, that you may not carry a plank of wood or push a wheelbarrow full of building material to the site on the Shabbat. These are productive acts for without them the structure could not be completed. Carrying or pushing in these circumstances are productive work.
But the act of carrying a prayer book and tallit to synagogue or carrying food to a neighbour obviously falls into an altogether different category compared to carrying the wooden plank. Pushing a pram with baby is obviously different from pushing the wheelbarrow full of building material. Why do these non-productive acts not fall within the exempt category as do eating and dressing, which are permitted even though they fall within Rabbi Hirsch’s first definition of forbidden Malachah? All are done within a private domain, i.e. less than 600,000 people passing through their streets daily, and are intended for the enjoyment of Shabbat. It is noteworthy that ‘pushing’ is not even included in the list of 39 forbidden Malachot.
Rabbi Appel, on page 288, writes:
While there is due regard for the prevailing view as stated above (in his book) the general acceptance of the validity of the Eruv which permits carrying on Shabbat, even in some populous metropolitan areas, some authorities advise those who are more stringent in religious observance to be stricter in their personal practice and to refrain from carrying even where there is an Eruv.
However, they caution against imposing such restrictions on those who are inclined to be less lenient whether for reasons of convenience or necessity, as in the case of families with young children who in the absence of an Eruv would be confined to their apartments and dwellings on the Shabbat.
So there you have it. This authority, Rabbi Appel, states that whilst the Eruv fulfils the religious requirements of some, the stringently observant should, nevertheless, not carry even within its boundary. But, by his recommending for example, that families with young children should not be confined to their home in the absence of an Eruv, he shows that the case for the Eruv has been exaggerated and it has been foisted onto a trusting and unquestioning section of the community. By peer pressure people are being coerced into paying tens of thousands of pounds extra, which many can ill afford, to buy a home within it.
In the fifth paragraph of this essay I used the words ‘Legal fiction’ to describe the Eruv. These are not my choice of words but words used by many reference books. The dictionary defines ‘fiction’ as ‘ a product of the imagination’, ‘an invented story’. These definitions help us understand that the Eruv does not really do what it purports to do. It is a legal fiction which implies that it does not really make a public domain into a private domain. So who are we fooling? God? If one truly believes that it is not permissible to carry from one domain to another, can a piece of wire make it permissible?
I think that it would be interesting if I quote a paragraph, which I have quoted elsewhere, from a recent e-mail letter written by Rabbi Natav. Rabbi Natav is a very brave man for he says loudly and clearly things that other rabbis only whisper or don’t say at all. Regarding the Torah and the Talmudic rabbis, Rabbi Natav, the educational director of Rabbi Cardozo’s Academy in Jerusalem, recently wrote:
“The pristine Divine Torah as given to Moshe, is actually sparse in its daily demands upon us. It only legislates a few blessings each day. It tells men to put on Tefilin and gives some general guidelines for our behaviour. It prohibits some situations, most of which we rarely encounter. In addition, it tells us to keep Shabbat and Yom Tov, which to transgress on a Torah level, is not uncomplicated. The vast majority of our religious behaviour, however, is rabbinic in origin. Most of our prayers and blessings were ordained by the rabbis. Kashrut and especially Shabbat are full of rabbinic emendation, which makes them quite demanding. What we do when we mourn and when we get married is almost entirely rabbinic. The picture that emerges is that the rabbis had a conscious plan in expanding the Torah into a system that makes constant demands on our daily and weekly schedules.”
Why have the rabbis made life so complicated? I was taught that the rabbis put a fence around Torah Laws to protect the Law. I was also taught that they could put only one fence around any particular Law. It seems to me that in dealing with the laws of the Eruv they have put fences around a fence.
It would appear that the old foreign Jews of Whitechapel may have known something when they did not try to prevent us changing our library books, or when they did not refrain from carrying the cholent, on Shabbat. What is it that they may have known? They perhaps knew that the whole of this discussion is about rabbinical decrees, which should be flexible to meet current circumstances, and I was taught that rabbinical decrees do not carry the same weight as Torah decrees. They may have known where and when to draw the line. They may have been on the same wavelength as Rabbi Appel.
The karmelit is the third kind of domain, a semi-public domain. Not a public thoroughfare. Neither a public nor private domain. It could be a type of alley, a balcony used as a stand for a traders’ stall, an open field, the sea and similar. There are prohibitions on carrying into and out of it. But since the 39th Malacha specifically mentions the public and private domains I have restricted my discussion to these two.
I started this essay by saying that the subject is complicated and confusing. It is a subject that should be probed by the layman and explained by those knowledgeable in Halacha. I don’t fall into that category. However, as a loyal and active member of the Jewish people, all things Jewish are of interest to me and I enjoy discussing them. Hundreds of articles have been written about the Eruv and the difficulty is in understanding the details. I may well have got some of the details wrong. The fun has been in its research and composition. I am satisfied that, based on my experience and on the sources I quoted, my comments are reasonable, but for alternative explanations please consult an expert.
Woolf Abrahams
December 2006