Where Have All the Lions Gone?

This week we read the Ten Commandments. As a child I went to a shul that had been founded in 1903 by Lithuanian immigrants in Malden, Mass. Congregation Beth Israel Anshe Litte moved into more spacious quarters in 1905, converting a former Methodist church. The large balconied sanctuary focused on the ARON KODESH, above which were those Ten Commandments held firmly in place by two lions. I loved that shul and those gilded, wooden lions.

This past summer my wife and I visited my sister in Boston, and one of our outings was to the Museum of Fine Arts. I hadn’t been there in decades. I remembered the mummies and silver bowls made by Paul Revere, but there was something new in this venerable institution, a Judaica gallery. Most of the exhibit was from Europe, but the centerpiece was an Aron Kodesh made by Sam Katz (1884-1953) who fashioned at least 24 such pieces around Greater Boston, and, of course, it was topped by gilded lions. 

I, sort of, filed this idea away until ASERET YeMEI TESHUVA, the time period between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Then I visited my grandson learning in the Yeshiva of Beit El, which was founded in 1977. I first went into the new, spacious and beautiful Beit Medrash, but after a few minutes they announced that there would be a minyan for Mincha in the small original Beit Medrash. And there, lo and behold, were lions. The modern Beit Medrash had no representations of animals, but the 48 year old Beit Medrash had its lions, and I couldn’t help but think, ‘Where have all the lions gone? Long time passing.’

The answer, of course, is that we have newly applied the second Commandment: You shall not make for yourself a sculptured image, or any likeness of what is in the heavens above, or on the earth below, or in the waters under the earth (Shmot 20:4). 

This makes me sad.

Nowadays, we’re seeing much more in the way of vegetation as decorations in shuls. Rimonim (pomegranates) have become very popular. So, when the Tribes are represented artistically in modern synagogues you see produce and not snakes, donkeys, wolves, deer and oxen, which we used to see so very often. 

The Shulchan Aruch seems to permit these animals: Images of domestic beasts, wild animals, birds, fish, and images of trees, grasses, and similar things are permitted to make, even if the image is protruding (Yoreh De’ah 141:6). But perhaps there is a problem with lions from a previous Halacha: It is forbidden to depict forms found in the Divine abode, such as the four faces together, and likewise the forms of the Seraphim, Ophanim, and ministering angels, as well as a human form alone (Ibid. 4). And the lion is one of the four ‘faces’ on the Divine Throne (Yechezkel 1:10).

However, although many of these pieces of art are prohibited there is a leniency when they are owned by the community because there is less concern that they might become objects of worship when they are publicly displayed (Ibid.).

The amazing reality is that there were many shuls in the period of our Sages who wrote the Mishne and the Talmud which are adorned with depictions of animals and people. In one case, there are even mosaics of the Hellenistic god of the sun, Helios, driving his chariot across the heavens (Beit Alpha and Chamei Tiveria). So, why did we move away from these displays of art?

Generally, the Sefardim (Eidot Hamizrach) have been more circumspect when it comes to images in synagogues. Many historians believe that this is because they tended to live in countries dominated by Moslems who are very strict on these issues. While Ashkenazim lived in Europe where places of worship were also places of great art. 

In any case, the Chida (Reb Chaim Yosef David Azulai, 1724-1806) who was from the totally Sephardic community of Yerushalayim, wrote:

The matter is simple that any place where TEFILA or learning is done consistently that the display of lions is prohibited. Anyone who decides differently will be called to judgment for their error.

  While his contemporary, the Chatam Sofer (Reb Moshe Sofer, 1764-1830) who lived in Pressborg of the Austrian Empire wrote:

God forbid to say that this [practice of adorning synagogue arks with decorative lions] is included in the injunction of ‘You shall not make a carved image.’ To suspect, God forbid, that earlier generations–who are likened to angels–may have transgressed the prohibition against idolatry, is to speak malicious falsehoods against the holy ones of our land.

I know that the rejection of AVODA ZARA (idolatry) is critically important. Rav Asher Meir wrote:

The rejection of idolatry is practically the essence of the Jewish religion.  Our Sages said, “Anyone who denies pagan worship is called a Jew” (Megilla 13a.)  Two of the Ten Commandments are to worship only God and to eschew idols; and many commandments of the Torah are explicitly intended to distance us from idolatry.  The appurtenances of idol worship are prohibited in the strongest possible terms – ‘Not one trace of the forbidden shall stick to your hand’ (Devarim 13:18).

But we still must be loyal and adhere to the customs of our forebears. Especially when it was so widespread and accepted.  

I could go on and quote many authorities from both sides who are adamant that their position is right, but you get the point. That’s all true until today. Nowadays there are authorities from Ashkenazic roots who are becoming more concerned for images in shuls. I find that sad. 

We are a religion based on Torah and the word of God, but we are also a religion of traditions handed down from generation to generation. I’m saddened by stories of well meaning Jews who give up the customs of their ancestors to take on some new stricter position. I cried when I heard the story, in the 1970’s, of descendants of the Chafetz Chaim who wouldn’t use his BECHER (Kiddush cup) because it was ‘too small’. 

I guess, in conclusion, I can state: I like lions, but mostly I love the customs of my dear ancestors.