Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 282:13-283:3

Hook

Have you ever sat in a synagogue, watching people go up to the Torah, and wondered why it feels like the line never ends? Sometimes there are seven people called up, but then suddenly, a few more names are announced, and you find yourself checking your watch, wondering if you’ll ever get home for lunch. It’s a common experience: you’re trying to follow along, but the service seems to stretch on longer than you expected. You might have even asked yourself, "Is this allowed? Can we just keep adding people to the Torah reading whenever we want?"

It’s a funny thing about Jewish tradition—we love structure, but we also love making space for people. There is a tension between wanting a service to be efficient and wanting everyone to feel included and honored. Sometimes, we want to give someone an aliyah (the act of being called up to the Torah) because it’s their birthday, or they are remembering a loved one, or they simply want to participate. But does this act of "adding on" actually make the service holier, or is it just cluttering up the prayer experience?

It’s a relatable human problem: how do we balance our set traditions with the real, messy, beautiful desires of the community? Today, we are going to look at a classic debate that sounds like it’s about logistics, but it’s really about how we treat each other and how we define "holiness" in our daily lives. Whether you are a regular at services or have never stepped foot in a synagogue, you’ve likely felt the push and pull between "following the rules" and "being a good neighbor." Let’s dive into how our ancestors handled the exact same frustration.

Context

• Who: Rabbi Yechiel Michel Epstein, the author of the Arukh HaShulchan. He was a 19th-century leader who loved explaining Jewish law in a clear, practical way for everyone to understand.
• When: The Arukh HaShulchan was written in the late 1800s. It acts as a bridge between the ancient Talmudic discussions and the lives of everyday Jewish people.
• Where: The setting is the shul (the synagogue). The specific topic is the aliyah, which is the honor of being called to recite a blessing over the Torah scroll.
• Key Term: Torah refers to the Five Books of Moses, which are the foundational sacred scrolls read aloud in every synagogue service.

The world of Jewish law can feel like a library with a million books, but the Arukh HaShulchan is like that one friend who actually read the books and can explain them over coffee. Rabbi Epstein wasn't interested in gatekeeping; he was interested in how things actually work in real life. When he discusses adding extra people to the Torah reading, he isn't just citing dry facts. He is looking at the history of how communities have acted for hundreds of years.

He notes that some scholars were worried that adding too many people would lead to "purposeless blessings"—meaning, blessings recited when they weren't strictly necessary. It’s a classic debate: do we prioritize the strict, technical law, or do we prioritize the social reality of the synagogue where people want to be included? Rabbi Epstein’s genius is that he acknowledges the technical argument, but he looks at the reality on the ground. He realizes that if you try to stop people from participating, you’re just going to create a fight. And as he wisely suggests, sometimes keeping the peace is a higher value than winning a technical argument.

This text is a beautiful example of how Jewish tradition isn't a static statue; it’s a living, breathing conversation. It acknowledges that sometimes the "right" answer is the one that respects the human heart, even if it deviates from the most rigid interpretations of the rulebook.

Text Snapshot

"The Levush seemed to say that it is good to add to the number of people called to the Torah; he wrote regarding addition, 'We ascend in sanctity.' ... Some say that the mishnaic permission to add ascendants referred only to the time of the mishnah... Today, when each ascendant recites blessings, adding ascendants adds blessings, and is close to introducing purposeless blessings... This argument is correct, but this opinion has never been accepted... The people will not listen to us... Since there is no prohibition involved, it is not worthwhile to stand in argument against it."

— Arukh HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 282:13-283:3

Close Reading

Insight 1: The "Holiness" of Inclusion

The text begins with a fascinating debate: does adding more people to the Torah reading actually make the service holier? One perspective, mentioned by the Levush, argues that by inviting more people to participate, "we ascend in sanctity." This is a profound shift in thinking. Often, we think of holiness as something that happens when we follow a rigid set of instructions perfectly. However, this perspective suggests that holiness is actually generated by human connection. When more people are involved, when more people feel invited into the story of the Torah, the space itself becomes more meaningful.

Think about your own life—when do you feel most "at home" in a community? Is it when everything is perfectly efficient, or when you are given a role, no matter how small? The Levush argues that the sheer act of participation is an engine for holiness. It’s not about the clock; it’s about the soul. By opening the doors to more people, we aren't just adding time to the service; we are adding layers of shared experience and communal belonging.

Insight 2: The Wisdom of Knowing When to Quit

The second part of our text is perhaps the most human moment in all of Jewish law. Rabbi Epstein discusses the argument that adding people leads to "purposeless blessings." It’s a valid legal concern! In Jewish tradition, we are taught not to say God’s name in vain or to recite blessings when they aren't required. But then, Rabbi Epstein does something incredible. He looks at the community, sees that they really want to be called up, and he essentially says: "Even if the legal argument is good, the people won't listen to us, and it’s not worth fighting them."

This is a masterclass in leadership and humility. Sometimes, we get so caught up in being "right" that we forget the goal of the community. If you try to force people to follow a rule that makes them feel excluded or ignored, you aren't actually upholding the law; you’re just being a bully. Rabbi Epstein acknowledges that there is no actual prohibition against adding people. Since it’s not forbidden, he decides that keeping the peace and honoring the community's desire for participation is the higher path. He teaches us that sometimes, the most "religious" thing you can do is to put down your ego and meet people where they are.

Insight 3: The Tension of Yom Kippur

The text brings up Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year, to show that even when things are serious and intense, the same tension exists. Some people are very strict about not adding extra people on Yom Kippur because the day is about deep, solemn atonement. But even here, Rabbi Epstein notes the reality: people still want to participate.

This highlights a constant struggle: how do we maintain the gravity of a sacred moment while still allowing it to be a communal experience? It suggests that even on the most intense days, the human need to be seen and counted is valid. We don't have to choose between "holiness" and "people." Instead, we learn to balance them. We learn that we can have a solemn day of prayer that is also deeply inclusive, provided we do so with respect and kindness. It’s a reminder that our traditions are meant to serve us, not to turn us against one another.

Apply It

This week, try the "One-Minute Invitation" practice. In your daily life—whether it’s at a work meeting, a family dinner, or a social gathering—look for one person who has been quiet or on the sidelines and offer them a small, genuine "way in." It could be as simple as asking, "What do you think about this?" or "Would you like to help me with this task?"

Just like adding someone to the Torah reading, this isn't about the "efficiency" of the conversation. It’s about the act of saying, "You belong here, and your presence matters." Do this for 60 seconds once a day. It’s a tiny, doable way to practice the spirit of aliyah—elevating others by inviting them to be part of the shared experience.

Chevruta Mini

• Question 1: The text says, "We ascend in sanctity" when we add more people. Can you think of a time when including someone else in a task actually made the experience better or "holier" for you?
• Question 2: Rabbi Epstein chooses not to fight the community, even though he thinks a "purposeless blessing" is a real concern. When is a time you decided that keeping the peace was more important than winning an argument?

Takeaway

True holiness is often found not in strict efficiency, but in the simple, kind act of making space for others to belong.