During the final Avinu Malkeinu of the year in Neilah, we change the nusach of the prayer. Throughout Aseret Yemei Teshuvah, we ask G-d to “katveinu” – write us in the book of life, prosperity and health. But during the most exalted and holy moments of the year, we shift gears. The time for writing has ended. Hopefully, the positive decree has already been written. At this point we turn to G-d and cry out, “Chatmeinu” – “seal us” for a good year.
At least that’s our custom today. It wasn’t always so.
How do I know this? Because when I examined an ancient, centuries-old machzor online this week, I noticed that in the final pages of the book, the Avinu Malkeinu for Neilah on Yom Kippur had the original nusach.
If you look carefully on the left margin, you’ll notice that someone later scrawled the word “chatmeinu.” Over the ages, the language of our prayers had subtly changed, and we, as a community, felt that Neilah was no longer a time for writing, but for sealing.
I would never have learned this fascinating fact if not for an article in the Jewish media this week describing the sale of a famous machzor to a private buyer. Until it made the news, I had never heard of the Luzzatto High Holiday Mahzor. It was, like many thousands of other treasured artifacts, hidden deep in the basement, or a vault, or perhaps even on display in the bowels of the museum of the Alliance Israélite Universelle, a 160-year-old French Jewish organization.
Fortunately, before its sale, the Alliance fully digitized the machzor and made it available online for the world to read, study and enjoy.
Even before Sotheby’s sold the machzor to a private buyer for a whopping $8.6 million, there were attempts to prevent the sale of the artifact, arguing that the machzor should remain the public property of the Jewish community and not enter the hands of a private individual. Some even called on the French government “to invoke a law declaring the prayerbook a national treasure.” In a Facebook message, a friend of mine argued that these books and manuscripts “are key testaments to the vibrancy of Jewish culture, art and tradition. They should be with Jewish cultural institutions.”
I appreciate their sentiments. But I strongly disagree.
First and foremost, many if not most of these artifacts remain hidden in sub-basements, collecting dust (or protected from it), far away from the eyes (and hands) of the public. Of course, they should all be digitized whether they are sold or not. Why does it matter who owns them and where they’re housed once they’re scanned and made available online?
More importantly, these artifacts – and there are many – represent incredible potential resources for Jewish institutions for revenue for the future. The Alliance runs a network of Jewish schools in France, Morocco and Israel. It conducts cultural and Jewish programs for thousands of Jews today. Its library needs funds desperately in order to remain open to the public. What good is a library full of treasures that cannot hire staff? What good is a basement full of valuable artifacts if it’s in a library that closed due to lack of funds?
But my argument goes even farther. We live in a world that’s moving – except for Shabbat – to online learning in a meaningful way. Today I teach limudei kodesh to children in countries around the world through an online learning program called Kitah (kitah.org). Kids learn on their own, studying classic texts like Mishnah, Gemara and Chumash. Would we prefer that every child had access to a full-service Jewish day school with excellent educators? Of course! But for many, online learning and Torah resources represent a critical source of Jewish education that will only grow in the future.
Academic Jewish studies today would be unthinkable without online resources. With the power of the Friedberg Jewish Manuscript Society, Otzar Hachochmah, the Bar Ilan database, the National Library of Israel and many other sites, a student of advanced Jewish studies has access to materials and resources he or she could never have accessed in one place at any time in Jewish history.
Jewish institutions – even those charged with preserving our history and culture – often get mired in the past. They find themselves so stuck that they forget their true mission: to bring the vibrancy and value of Judaism to the current generation. So, if you’re a Jewish organization with some ancient artifact and a dire need for funds, I say “sell,” with two caveats: First, that you digitize the artifact, making it available online to the public for study. Second, that you put the money to good use, promoting Jewish life today and in the future.