Vayeira: Don’t Deviate from the Minhag: XTREME Edition

This week's Torah content has been sponsored anonymously. May Hashem grant a refuah shleimah to Rachel bas Rivka Chana.

Click here for a printer-friendly 1-page version of this article, and click here for an audio version.

Artwork: Divine Visitation, by Victor Adame Minguez; flavor text on the card reads: 
"The angels appreciated the offer, but declined to eat any birdseed."

Vayeira: Don’t Deviate from the Minhag: XTREME Edition

Parashas Vayeira opens with Avraham Avinu’s visitation by “three men” (Bereishis 18:2). While some take this description at face value (Ralbag and Bechor Shor) and others maintain that this entire episode took place in a prophetic vision (Rambam and Radak), the majority of commentators – including the Sages of the Talmud – understand these “men” to be angels (see the AlHaTorah Parashah Topics for all the views and sources).

Avraham receives his guests graciously and hastens to perform the mitzvah of hachnasas orchim. After preparing a lavish feast, the Torah tells us that “[Avraham] stood over them beneath the tree and they ate” (18:8). This poses a problem for the mainstream view: if, indeed, these were non-physical angels, how could they eat?

R’ Tanchum bar Chanilai (Bava Metzia 86b) addresses this question by deriving a lesson from their conduct: “a person should never deviate from the minhag, for when Moshe ascended on high [to receive the Torah], he didn’t eat food, [and] when the ministering angels descended below, they ate food.” Sensing that R’ Tanchum sidestepped the real issue, the Gemara asks: “But is it really possible to think that they ate bread?!” The Gemara answers: “Rather, say that they appeared as though they ate and drank.”

What are we to make of this midrashic statement? One approach is to attempt to explain the mechanics of how, exactly, these angels “appeared to eat.” For example, Midrash Rabbah (48:14) states that they “removed portions of food one at a time.” The Daas Zekeinim maintain that they incinerated the food, and that the term “vayocheilu” ought to be translated as “they consumed [with fire]” rather than “they ate.” Tanna d’Vei Eliyahu Rabbah (12) simply refuses to accept our Gemara’s conclusion, declaring:

Anyone who says that the ministering angels didn't eat with Avraham has said nothing! Rather, due to the righteousness of that tzadik and as a reward for his toil on their behalf, Ha'Kadosh Baruch Hu opened their mouths and they ate. Thus, it was stated: "he stood over them under the tree and they ate."

But there is an alternative approach one can take here. Instead of assuming that the midrash is describing these events as they actually happened, one can read R’ Tanchum’s midrash homiletically – that he is teaching us a lesson which has nothing to do with the pshat. Indeed, this is the approach taken by Midrash Seichel Tov (18:8):

They appeared as though they ate, removing the food bit by bit. Why go this far? So [we can] learn derech eretz (proper interpersonal conduct), to conduct oneself in the city in accordance with the customs of its citizens. Behold! Moshe ascended on high and didn’t eat or drink, and went for 40 days and 40 nights without eating and drinking, and these [angels] who came to the human realm made themselves appear to eat and drink in order to beautify the character of Avraham, and so as not to withhold reward from its rightful recipients.

Reading the midrash in this manner obviates the need to engage in abstruse angelological acrobatics to work out how the angels appeared to eat. Moreover, this reading sidesteps the problematic claim that the reason why Moshe Rabbeinu abstained from eating and drinking for 40 days was because he didn’t want to deviate from the minhag of the angels (as opposed to a more metaphysically intrinsic reason, related to Mosaic prophecy).

Why would R’Tanchum express this derech eretz lesson in such dramatic terms? Perhaps he did so the sake of the rhetorical impact. Many of us experience tremendous resistance when asked to change our own conduct to conform to the norms of others. R’ Tanchum framed his teaching this way to speak directly to this resistance: “Even if conforming to the minhag goes against your grain – even if it goes against your very nature – you still must not deviate. Moshe was a physical being – and yet, he abstained from eating and drinking to uphold the custom. The angels were non-physical beings – and yet, they ate so as not to upset their host. And even if you literally can’t bring yourself to adapt the minhag, then at least do a convincing job of pretending to conform.”

________________________________________________________________

If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you.

If you would like to sponsor a day's or a week's worth of content, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone.

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast", "The Stoic Jew" Podcast, "Rambam Bekius" Podcast, "Machshavah Lab" Podcast, "The Tefilah Podcast"  Email me if you'd like to be added to my WhatsApp group where I share all of my content and public shiur info. 

Minhag Mythbusters: Does a Husband Sing Eishes Chayil for His Wife?

The Torah content for these two weeks has been sponsored by Judah and Naomi Dardik in loving memory of Rabbi Moskowitz zt''l, who taught his students to pursue truth by asking questions, who modeled love of Torah and learning, and who exemplified living a life of the mind.

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this article, and click here for an audio version.

Photo: Mishlei 31:10-14, Aleppo Codex 32-292-r

Minhag Mythbusters: Does a Husband Sing Eishes Chayil for His Wife?

There is a widespread minhag to sing Eishes Chayil on Friday night before kiddush. Many are under the impression that a husband sings this to (or for) his wife, as the English book Rite and Reason: 1050 Jewish Customs and Their Sources (1995) states: “[Eishes Chayil] contains praise for one’s wife who exerted herself and prepared the Shabbos delicacies.” But is this the actual reason why we sing Eishes Chayil? Specifically, is this the basis of the original minhag or is this a post-facto explanation? And if the latter, when and how did things change, and what are the implications for how we relate to the practice? These questions were posed to me, and I’d like to summarize my findings here.

Let us start with the text of Eishes Chayil itself, i.e. the final 22 pesukim of Sefer Mishlei. Could these pesukim apply to one’s wife? Certainly. But is that likely? No, it is highly unlikely. Says who? Says Shlomo ha’Melech in the opening pasuk of Eishes Chayil: “An accomplished woman, who can find? Her value is far beyond pearls” (Mishlei 31:10). In other words, a true eishes chayil is a rarity of rarities, and it would be extremely unlikely that every Jewish husband who sings this song was able to find and marry one. What if the husband who sings this to his wife is not doing so because she is an eishes chayil but because she aspires to be? That would be great! However, I doubt that most women hear Eishes Chayil and think to themselves, “My husband is telling me that these are the expectations I should live up to.” And if we take the allegorical reading – that Eishes Chayil is about Torah, or the psyche, or the soul – then it certainly wouldn’t be relevant to sing to one’s wife. And either way, what does Eishes Chayil have to do with Shabbos evening?

So, where did the minhag originate, if not from the pshat of the pesukim? Professor Yael Levin answers:

Contrary to popular opinion, the minhag to recite [Eishes Chayil] did not originate with [a husband] showing honor to his Jewish wife who toiled and worked to prepare Shabbos – which is an implication that developed over the years. Rather, the foundation [of this minhag] is a Kabbalistic ritual which developed in Safed (Tzfat) in the middle of the 15th century. Its recitation constituted a component of a symbolic wedding ceremony which began with the Kabbalists going out to the fields outside of the city several hours before the onset of Shabbos; there they would greet the [Sabbath] bride with the recitation of poems and chapters of Psalms – the most well-known of which is the poem "Lecha Dodi." At a much later stage, they stopped going out to the fields, and the minhag transitioned to the courtyard of the synagogue. Upon arriving at home, they would announce in a loud voice with great joy, "Shabbat shalom!" like a bridegroom greeting the bride with great joy and a smiling countenance. At an even later date, their minhag was to circle the table clockwise two times: first they would circle it in silence, and once they finished, they would take two myrtle branches - one in the right hand and one in the left - join them together, make a blessing on them, smell their fragrance, and immediately afterwards they would circle the table a second time. Nowadays they sing Shalom Aleichem and, in a beautiful melody while sitting, they sing the song of Eishes Chayil corresponding to the shechinah, "which contains 22 pesukim corresponding to the 22 heavenly pipes which are open at that time and empty out a flow of blessing from the heavenly wellspring from the head of all the crowns."

In other words, the minhag to recite Eishes Chayil had nothing to do with husbands and wives! The “eishes chayil” in the text was taken to be an allegorical reference to “the Sabbath bride,” and it wasn’t even recited in the home or on Shabbos itself! Only when the original significance of the minhag was forgotten did people take this to be about actual wives. Moreover, Eishes Chayil was only recited but wasn’t sung until the melody was composed by Benzion Shenker in 1946!

What are the implications of such findings? Do we embrace the current “folk explanation” as a “legitimate” post-facto reason for the minhag? Do we strive to raise awareness of the minhag’s true origins? Regardless of the answer, one thing is clear: it is better to know where a minhag came from than to not know.

One of the many aspects of Judaism I appreciate is the ability to conduct “halachic archaeology.” In other religions and cultures, asking, “Why do we do XYZ?” will often be met with a shrug – or worse, with the non-answer of “TRADITION!” In Judaism, there are always answers, and it is always possible to conduct research to find them.

___________________________________________________________________________________

If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you.

If you would like to sponsor a day's or a week's worth of content, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone.

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast", "The Stoic Jew" Podcast, "Rambam Bekius" Podcast, "Machshavah Lab" Podcast, "The Tefilah Podcast"  Email me if you'd like to be added to my WhatsApp group where I share all of my content and public shiur info. 

My Experience Fasting for 48 Hours on the 9th and 10th of Av

This week's Torah content is sponsored by a generous donor who wishes to remain anonymous, and told me, "No thanks needed!" so I'm not going to thank them.

Click here for a one-page printer-friendly version of this article, and click here for an audio version.

fast began at 8:30pm on Saturday (7/17) and ended at 9:00pm on Monday (7/19)

My Experience Fasting for 48 Hours on the 9th and 10th of Av

I’ve been doing intermittent fasting all year, for health and for energy. I generally fast between 17-19 hours each weekday. “Fasting” in this context means not consuming any calories. I still drink water, coffee, and tea. I had never fasted longer than the standard 25 hour taanis (fast) on Yom ha’Kippurim and Tishah b’Av, but after learning about the health benefits of fasting for 48 hours, I decided to give it a try this year. My plan was to break my Tishah b’Av fast on water and tea, then continue fasting until at least the next morning, if not longer.

In my mind, this extension of my fast had nothing to do with halacha. I figured that since I was drinking fluids, then this wouldn’t count as a halachic taanis. That is, until I saw this Tur (Orach Chayim 558):

It was taught in a Baraisa: "On the 7th of Av the gentiles entered the Sanctuary. They ate and drank and wreaked havoc on the 8th and the 9th until late in the day. Towards the evening they lit a fire in it, and it burned until sunset of the 10th." R' Yochanan said: "If I were there, I would have established [the commemoration] on the 10th, when the majority of the Sanctuary burned." It says in the Yerushalmi that R’ Avin fasted on the 9th and the 10th, [whereas] R' Levi fasted on the 9th and the night of the 10th because he didn't have the energy to fast for the entire night and day of the 10th. Nowadays, our energy has waned, and even Yom ha'Kippurim, which would be proper to observe out of safek (doubt) for two days, we are unable to do. Nevertheless, it is a proper minhag to not eat meat on the night of the 10th and the day of the 10th, but only what restores the soul, which is partial inui (affliction).

It is clear from the Yerushalmi that fasting on the 10th of Av is an ideal to strive for, since that’s when the majority of the Sanctuary was burned. The Ramban (Moed Katan 28b) explains that these Amoraim extended their fasts as a minhag chasidus (a custom of piety), and that “the more one mourns over Yerushalayim, the more meritorious it is for him.” Even a partial fast would count for something, as we see from R’ Levi’s fast on the night of the 10th.

Less clear, however, is the scope of the “proper minhag” mentioned by the Tur at the end. According to the Taz’s explanation of the Tur, the minhag is to refrain specifically from meat – a food associated with simchah (rejoicing) – but there is no kiyum (halachic fulfillment) whatsoever of abstaining from other types of food. According to the Bach, the Tur’s minhag is to refrain from eating even non-meat food, except for “that which restores the soul,” since this abstention constitutes “partial inui.” Thus, according to the Bach, my extended fast would constitute a kiyum in “fasting on the 10th of Av,” despite my consumption of liquids. If abstaining from non-restorative food is a kiyum because it produces inui, then kal va’chomer abstaining from all food!

But then I asked myself whether my fast really did fulfill the minhag. After all, I was doing this for health reasons, not as an expression of mourning, which – according to the Ramban – is what makes this fasting meritorious. In an effort to “legitimize my fasting,” I spent all morning and afternoon learning through the relevant sources to understand the purpose of what I was doing. I made it my mission to find an idea worthy of writing up as an article. The result? I learned a lot, but I didn’t find anything that I deemed profound enough for even a one-page article.

I was about to give up on the search and the article when I realized that this health-motivated 48-hour fasting experiment fit right into my goal of prolonging reflection on the ideas of Tishah b’Av beyond the demands of halacha. Indeed, my observance of this minhag caused me to spend an extra day learning about Tishah b’Av! What began as a non-halachic health experiment became a she’lo lishmah observance of a real minhag (at least, according to the Bach). This might not have yielded transformative insight this year, but it will certainly pave the way for such insight in the future. This is yet another example of “a person should always learn Torah even she’lo lishmah, because from she’lo lishmah one will come to lishmah” (Midrash Eichah Hakdamah 2). And that is a win in my book.

___________________________________________________________________________________

If you've gained from what you've learned here, please consider contributing to my Patreon at www.patreon.com/rabbischneeweiss. Alternatively, if you would like to make a direct contribution to the "Rabbi Schneeweiss Torah Content Fund," my Venmo is @Matt-Schneeweiss, and my Zelle and PayPal are mattschneeweiss at gmail.com. Even a small contribution goes a long way to covering the costs of my podcasts, and will provide me with the financial freedom to produce even more Torah content for you. 

If you would like to sponsor an article, shiur, or podcast episode, or if you are interested in enlisting my services as a teacher or tutor, you can reach me at rabbischneeweiss at gmail.com. Thank you to my listeners for listening, thank you to my readers for reading, and thank you to my supporters for supporting my efforts to make Torah ideas available and accessible to everyone. 

Be sure to check out my YouTube channel and my podcasts: "The Mishlei Podcast", "The Stoic Jew" Podcast, "Rambam Bekius" Podcast, "Machshavah Lab" Podcast, "The Tefilah Podcast"  For the full guide to all of my Torah content, click here. 

Why Do Jews Wear Yarmulkes?

Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

Why Do Jews Wear Yarmulkes?

If you are a kippah-wearing Jew, chances are that you've been asked some version of this question. And unless questions like this leave you tongue-tied, chances are that you've managed to give at least some semblance of an accurate answer. 

There are a number of valid answers that can be given to this question. In this blog post I'd like to share the answer that I usually give, though I am well aware that it may not be the most "mainstream" answer. I'm going to share this answer in its fullest form, but I'll conclude with a one-sentence summary, which is probably the version that you'll most frequently use as an answer if asked this question in real life.

I typically begin with an explanation of the etymology of the word "yarmulke." There are two explanations for the origins this strangely spelled word: one pshat (an accurate explanation of the word itself), and the other drash (a homiletic explanation). The pshat explanation is summed up by this article in Tablet Magazine which states:

Yarmulke’s etymological pedigree is undeniably Polish, in which language the word jarmułka (with the stress, though, on the second syllable) still exists, and which originally referred to a skullcap worn by priests.

The drash explanation is that the "yarmulke" is a compound word derived from the Aramaic expression "yarei malka" (ירא מלכא) which means "fear/awe of the king." According to this "folk etymology," the yarmulke is a reminder to be in a state of fear/awe before "the king." Although this explanation is clearly post-facto (i.e. historically, no Aramaic speaker ever used the word "yarmulke"), I find that it serves as an excellent springboard for answering the question at hand. 

Towards the end of the Moreh ha'Nevuchim (3:52) the Rambam depicts the personal conduct of highly perfected individuals using a mashal (metaphor) of how a person conducts himself in the presence of a king:

Man does not sit, move, and occupy himself when he is alone in his house as he sits, moves, and occupies himself when he is in the presence of a great king; nor does he speak and conduct himself when he is with his family and relatives as he speaks in the king’s council. Therefore, he who chooses to achieve human perfection and to be a true man of God must awaken himself and know that the great king who accompanies him and clings to him is greater than any human being, even [King] David and [King] Solomon. 

Now if one were to pause here and ask: "Who is this king?" most people would answer: "God, of course!" The Rambam, however, provides a different answer:

The king who cleaves to [man] and accompanies him is the intellect that overflows towards us and is the bond between us and Him, may He be exalted. Just as we apprehend Him by means of that light which He caused to overflow toward us – as it is stated: “In Your light do we see light” (Tehilim 36:10) – so does He by means of this selfsame light examine us; and because of it, He, may He be exalted, is constantly with us, examining from on high: “Can anyone hide himself in secret places that I shall not see him?” (Yirmiyahu 23:24). Understand this well. 

Let that sink in for a moment: the "great king" in the Rambam's mashal, "who accompanies him and clings to him," is not God. Rather, it is the human intellect, which constitutes the sole connection between man and God. [1]

When we plug this understanding back into the original mashal, we emerge with a significantly different vibe than our initial impression might have left us with:

Man does not sit, move, and occupy himself when he is alone in his house as he sits, moves, and occupies himself when he consciously recognizes that he is an intellectual being; nor does he speak and conduct himself when he is with his family and relatives as he speaks when cognizant of the fact that he possesses an intellect, which constitutes his sole connection to God. [2] 

The Rambam then elaborates on the practical implications of this recognition, one of which is the basis of the minhag (halachic custom) to wear a yarmulke at all times:

Know that when perfect men understand this, they achieve deliberateness, humility, awe and fear of Hashem, and shame before Him, may He be exalted – in genuine ways, not based on imagination [3] – such that their secret conduct with their wives and in the bathhouses is like their public conduct with other people. This, as you will find, was the way of our most renowned Sages with their wives: “One uncovers a handbreadth and covers up a handbreadth” (Talmud Bavli: Nedarim 20a-b). They also said: “Who is modest? Whoever goes to the bathroom at night as he does by day” (Talmud Bavli: Berachos 62a). You know already that they forbade “walking about with an upright posture” (Talmud Bavli: Kiddushin 31a) on account of: “The whole earth is filled with His glory” (Yeshayahu 6:3) – all this being intended to firmly establish the notion that I have mentioned to you, that we are always before Him, may He be exalted, and in the dwelling of His shechinah (i.e. providence). And the greatest among the Sages of blessed memory were averse to uncovering their heads, because the shechinah hovers around man. They also spoke little for this reason. We have already given in [the Commentary on] Avos the explanation that was needed concerning the habit of speaking but little: “for God is in heaven and you are on earth; therefore, let your words be few” (Koheles 5:1).

In other words, the practice of wearing a yarmulke - or, more accurately, not going about with an uncovered head - serves to reinforce and naturally express the recognition that God knows and relates to man, and that "the whole earth is filled with His glory," and our intellect is the link between ourselves and Him. 

When answering the question at hand, I tend not to delve into the halachic intricacies of wearing yarmulke. However, I do underscore the Rambam's view that wearing a yarmulke is not a halacha, but a minhag (halachic custom) - one that was intended specifically for talmidei chachamim (Torah scholars). The Rambam codifies this minhag in the Mishneh Torah in the section of Hilchos Deos (Laws of Character Traits) which pertain specifically to talmidei chachamim:

5:1 – Just as a chacham (wise man) is distinguished in his wisdom and character traits and is differentiated from the rest of the nation, so too, he needs to be differentiated in his actions: in his eating and drinking, in his sexual intercourse and the manner in which he uses the bathroom, in his speech, in his manner of walking, in his clothing, in the content of his words, and in his business dealings. All of these actions must be refined and perfected to a very high degree. 

5:6 – Talmidei chachamim conduct themselves with great tznius (modesty): they do not degrade themselves, nor do they uncover their heads or their bodies. Even when they go to the bathroom, they are modest etc. [the Rambam then goes on to list various ways in which talmidei chachamim practice modesty in the bathroom.]

The Rambam's codification makes sense in light of the passage in the Moreh ha'Nevuchim. The average Jew maintains his awareness of Hashem via the mitzvos that are incorporated into his day to day routine: krias shema, tefilah, tefillin, mezuzah, tzitzis, berachos, etc. These specific mitzvos serve as reminders of specific ideas about Hashem and His relationship with us, and "were commanded in them in order to love God and remember Him constantly" (Introduction to the Mishneh Torah: Division of Books). Only the elite chachamim, whose lives revolve around Torah and chochmah, are on the level to attain the level of "deliberateness, humility, awe and fear of Hashem, and shame before Him, may He be exalted – in genuine ways, not based on imagination" described by the Rambam. Only such highly perfected individuals need the extra reminder of the yarmulke because only they are in a position to live a life with that degree of awareness of God. 

Nevertheless, the minhag has spread to the average Jew, and although we aren't on the level to truly "fear the king" in this manner, we still benefit from our knowledge that such a level of human perfection is possible, and is the ultimate goal towards which we must strive.

I sometimes conclude by mentioning that the yarmulke happens to be a great symbol of Jewish identity because it reflects Judaism's uniqueness as a religion. Whereas other religions preach that the relationship between man and God is based on faith, Judaism teaches that it is based on the intellect. [4] It is therefore fitting that the Jew adorn his head, which houses his brain - the seat of the intellect - with a symbol of his religious identity.

So, to sum it up succinctly:

Q: Why do Jews wear yarmulkes?

A: To remind ourselves to be "in awe of the king" - that is, to live our lives based on our intellect, which is our only connection to God.

[1] In truth, the Rambam's explanation here is predicated upon the Aristotelian notion of the Active Intellect (seichel ha'poal), its relationship with the material intellect, and the relationship of both to Hashem. Based on my limited knowledge of this debatably outdated doctrine, I don't see any point in bringing it up in the context of the answer to the question at hand.

[2] When writing this blog post I associated to a video clip of James Randi (a.k.a. "The Amazing Randi") in which he explains why he doesn't use drugs. Although Randi's statements reflect a purely secular outlook, I think it's still a great exemplification of the type of intellectual awareness that the Rambam describes. Randi says:

I want to be, if I can, as sure of the world - the real world around me - as is possible. Now, you can only attain that to a certain degree, but I want the greatest degree of control. I don't, I've never involved myself in narcotics of any kind, I don't smoke, I don't drink, because that can easily just fuzz the edges of my rationality, fuzz the edges of my reasoning powers, and I want to be as aware as I possibly can. That means giving up a lot of fantasies that might be comforting in some ways, but I'm willing to give that up in order to live in an actually real world - as close as I can get to it.

[3] The distinction between a person who relates to this idea "in genuine ways" as opposed to ways that are "based on imagination" requires its own blog post. Suffice it to say, an excellent example of ways that are "based on imagination" can be found in the Christmas song, "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town" mentality of:

He sees you when you're sleepin'

He knows when you're a wake

He knows if you've been bad or good

So be good for goodness sake!

This represents a rather childish sentiment that, "I shouldn't do anything bad when Daddy is watching!" and is a far cry from the state of mind described by the Rambam here.

[4] See my blog post Parashas Yisro: The Mitzvah of Emunah for a detailed treatment of this concept.

בס"ד vs. בג"ה

Originally published in May 2013. Click here for a printer-friendly version of this blog post.

בס"ד vs. בג"ה

It is a fairly widespread practice among Orthodox Jews to write the acronym בס"ד in the upper right-hand corner of their cover pages. בס"ד stands for the Aramaic phrase בסיעתא דשמיא (b'siyata di'shmaya) meaning "with the help of heaven." Another variation is ב"ה which stands for the Hebrew phrase בעזרת השם (b'ezras Hashem) meaning "with Hashem's help."

To my knowledge, there is no halachic source for this specific practice. It's just something that people do to acknowledge Hashem's role in their endeavors (whatever they understand that to mean). Generally speaking, this seems to be a good practice. Philosophically (though probably not halachically), it is fulfillment of the what the Rambam writes in Hilchos Berachos 10:26:

The sum of the matter: a person should always cry out in prayer about the future and ask for mercy, and express gratitude for the past, and give thanks and praise according to his ability. The more a person thanks and praises Hashem continually, the more praiseworthy.

As readers of this blog are probably aware, I'm a big fan of the Ralbag's commentary on Chumash. Early on I noticed the Ralbag's use of a mysterious acronym: בג"ה. He seemed to use it in the same way that other people use בס"ד, but I couldn't figure out what the letters stood for. Finally, while using an edition of the Ralbag with expanded acronyms, I realized that בג"ה stands for בגזירת הצור (b'gezeiras ha'Tzur) meaning "with the decree of the Rock."

I'll admit right up front that I don't know why the Ralbag prefers בג"ה over בס"ד. I don't know of any explanation he offers for this practice. I'd venture to guess that his preference for this phrase can be traced back to his metaphysical premises, and I wouldn't be surprised if this decision reflects some controversial view about the relationship between God and the universe of which I am unaware. Frankly, none of that really interests me for the purpose of this post.

The reason I am writing this post is to explain why I prefer בג"ה over בס"ד. It is possible that my reasons apply only to myself, but I want to share them, for whatever value they're worth. 

Reason #1: Connotation of "Gzeirah"

My first reason has to do with the use of the term "gezeirah" (decree) as opposed to "siyata" (assistance). The metaphor of gezeirah brings to mind the idea of Malchus Hashem (God's Kingship). It also highlights the lawful, objective, and just manner of Hashem's governance of His world: "ki kol derachav mishpat" - "for all of His ways are justice" (Devarim 32:4). 

The term "siyata," on the other hand, caters to a more ego-gratifying way of viewing Hashem's role in our lives. Instead of conceptualizing Hashem as "The Melech Whose decree governs the entire universe, of which I am but a small part," the term "siyata" frames Hashem as "The One Who helps me." 

In other words, "gezeirah" emphasizes our acceptance of and submission to Hashem's universal Malchus, whereas "siyata" emphasizes His role in servicing my specific needs.

(To reiterate: this post expresses my views about why I prefer בג"ה to בס"ד. I'm not claiming that the associations I have to these terms reflect their only meaning, nor am I suggesting that everyone else thinks the same way I do. I'm just telling you what I think about when I encounter these terms. The ideas to which I am referring are objective truths, but the aim of this post is to express my subjective relation to those objective truths.)

Reason #2: Denotation of "Siyata"

My second reason for preferring בג"ה over בס"ד is that to my mind, siyata denotes hashgachah pratis specifically, whereas gezeirah includes both hashgachah pratis (individual providence) and hashgachah klalis (general providence – i.e. natural law).

In other words, the notions of "help" and "assistance" imply intervention in a natural order. From this perspective, בס"ד focuses on Hashem's role as the One Who intervenes in the natural order. "Gezeirah," on the other hand, refers equally to general decrees of hashgachah klalis - the laws of nature, which Hashem created and maintains - as well as the particular decrees of hashgachah pratis. As such, בג"ה is more all-encompassing than בס"ד. 

Is it possible to interpret "siyata" as referring to the laws of nature? Yes - but in the framework of dibra Torah ki'lshon bnei adam ("The Torah speaks in the language of man"), the term "help" typically refers to intervention, rather than an underlying system of lawfulness. 

(For the third time, I want to stress the point that I am only speaking about my own subjective thoughts which are triggered by these two acronyms. I feel the need to underscore this point because if I didn't, I know that some reader is going to jump down my throat and accuse me of projecting my own thoughts onto my fellow Jews.)

Reason #3: Use of Tzur (Creator) vs. Shmaya (Creation)

My final reason for preferring בג"ה over בס"ד is the use of Tzur (Rock) in the former over the use of shmaya (heaven) in the latter. The Rambam explains the meaning of the "Rock" mashal in the Moreh ha'Nevuchim 1:16. For the sake of brevity, I have omitted many of the proof-texts cited by the Rambam:

Tzur is an equivocal term. It is a term denoting a mountain. It is also a term denoting a hard stone like flint. It is further a term denoting the quarry from which quarry-stones are hewn. Subsequently, in derivation from the last meaning, the term was used figuratively to designate the root and principle of every thing ... On account of the last meaning, God, may He be exalted, is designated as the Rock, as He is the principle and the efficient cause of all things other than Himself ... The verse, "you may stand firmly on the Rock" (Shemos 33:21) means: rely upon, and be firm in considering, God, may He be exalted, as the first principle. This is the entryway through which you shall come to Him, as we have made clear when speaking of His saying [to Moshe], "Behold, there is a place by Me; [you may stand firmly on the Rock]" (ibid.) 

Thus, when we frame Hashem as Tzur in בג"ה, we remind ourselves that all occurrences are decrees emanating from the Cause of all causes - the Foundation of all existence. In contrast, the phrase בס"ד stops short at shamayim - a reference to Hashem's creation or governance, as opposed to Hashem, Himself. Sure, we imply that we are really referring to the Creator of shamayim - but why not go the full distance and make explicit reference to Hashem as such?

Conclusion

For these three reasons, I prefer the Ralbag's בג"ה over the conventional בס"ד. While both phrases accomplish their intended goal, בג"ה brings me closer to ahavas Hashem (love of God) and yiras Hashem (fear of God) than בס"ד.

The only catch is that nobody but the Ralbag uses בג"ה! I guess we'll have to see what we can do about changing that.

Addendum (6/2/17)

I realized that there is a fourth reason why I prefer בג"ה over בס"ד: because, according to my limited understanding of hashgachah pratis, “gezeirah” is a more accurate description than “siyata.” This especially true according to the Ralbag, as he explains in his commentary on Ki Sisa (Shemos 33:19). I have chosen not to write about this reason here, (a) because I do not currently have access to my Ralbag on Shemos, (b) I think this point deserves its own post, and (c) because even if it does deserve its own post, I don’t know whether it would be appropriate to write about, since I think it’s the type of idea that might be detrimental to those who aren’t ready to hear it.