By ISABEL KERSHNER
Published: November 18, 2010
JERUSALEM — In the 1960s, when a young Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz embarked on the mammoth task of translating the ancient Jewish texts of the Talmud into modern Hebrew and, even more daringly, providing his own commentary alongside those of the classical sages, the state of Israel was still in its teens, there were no home computers, and man had not yet landed on the moon.
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Rina Castelnuovo for The New York Times
Rabbi Adin Steinsalz
The monumental work took 45 years. But this month in his hometown, Jerusalem, Rabbi Steinsaltz, now 73, marked the end of the endeavor, as the last of the 45 volumes of his edition of the Babylonian Talmud, originally completed 1,500 years ago, rolled off the press.
“When I began it I did not think it would be so difficult or so long,” the rabbi said in a meandering interview that went late into the night at his Steinsaltz Center for religious studies in the city’s historic Nahlaot neighborhood. “I thought it would take maybe half the time.”
First, he said, there was the arrogance of youth, then financial and political obstacles, several spells in the hospital and the disruptive effect of a few wars.
Rabbi Steinsaltz, frail after a recent illness, sealed his achievement on Nov. 7 with a modest closing ceremony at City Hall here and a live video linkup connecting 360 Jewish communities across 48 countries on a global day of Jewish learning in the spirit of the Talmud.
Israel’s prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, sent greetings by video and, recalling his private Talmud sessions with the rabbi in the past, said they were among the most rewarding intellectual experiences of his life.
The original Talmud, written in a mixture of old Hebrew and Aramaic, is all about learning. The act of learning, according to the rabbi, is the “central pillar” or “backbone” of Judaism — what connects Jews with the Almighty above, with their roots below and with one another.
“This book is essential for our existence,” Rabbi Steinsaltz said.
The Talmud, a compilation and analysis of oral Jewish law and ethics governing everything from marital relations to agriculture, is written as a flowing rabbinic discourse. Though the terms are archaic, many say the Talmud contains founding principles that can still be applied today. But its condensed and obscure style made it largely incomprehensible to all but serious scholars.
By adding vowel markings and punctuation to the ancient text, a modern Hebrew translation that fills in gaps, and contemporary interpretations, the Steinsaltz edition aims to make the Talmud accessible to everyone.
Rabbi Steinsaltz, a diminutive man with straggly hair and an unruly white beard tinged yellow after decades of smoking a pipe, is widely considered one of the most brilliant Jewish scholars of his age.
He was born into what he described as a “not especially religious home”; his father was a Zionist socialist who volunteered in the international brigades in Spain. The rabbi says his religious belief developed gradually in his teens.
“By nature I am a skeptical person, and people with a lot of skepticism start to question atheism,” he said.
His father sent him to a Talmud tutor at the age of 10 so that he would not grow up an “ignoramus.” Later, in college, he specialized in mathematics and physics. As a result, the rabbi has an unusual ability to move easily between different worlds — secular and sacred, scientific and spiritual, earthly and divine.
Though born sickly, Rabbi Steinsaltz has long compensated for the limitations of the human condition with intellectual and metaphysical flights. Among his most popular works is “The Thirteen Petalled Rose,” a journey into Jewish mysticism that he described as “a book for the soul.”
Asking questions, he said, is both the secret of science and the essence of the Talmud, the dialectic forming the character of the Jewish people.
He denied that his translation detracted from the book’s inner complexity and mystique. “I am not simplifying the Talmud; I am cutting some of the technical difficulties,” he said. “I am paving roads, opening doors. Not more.”
Just finding the right format for the millions of words of the Talmud was a challenge. Each page consists of a central block of the original text bordered by the classical commentary, alongside the translation, new analysis and notes, each part distinguished from the others by different typefaces and fonts.
Rabbi Steinsaltz began the task alone, but later found people “willing to lend a hand.” It became easier with computers — not least, he said, because his handwriting is so atrocious that he himself finds it hard to read.
Some in the traditional establishment were suspicious, even hostile at first. The rabbi’s level of religiosity was in doubt, and there was a reluctance to open up locked treasures.
Since he started work on it, three million volumes of the Steinsaltz edition are said to have been sold, and it has been partly translated into several other languages, including English.
Today, the rabbi bridges different streams and communities within Judaism, an unusual feat helped by the fact that he chose not to associate himself fully with any one religious group, according to his son, Rabbi Menachem Even Yisrael.
Rabbi Steinsaltz is now eager to get on with his other work, including a concise commentary of the Bible. He says he regularly puts in a 17-hour day.
He leads Shefa, an umbrella organization for all his activities and educational institutions, including schools, seminaries and less formal centers of learning for men and women. Rabbi Even Yisrael is the executive director of Shefa, which has a United States affiliate, the Aleph Society.
Known as a sharp social critic, Rabbi Steinsaltz seems to have lost none of his bite. He has little patience for vanity or pretense, and says he admires the unsparing honesty and curiosity of small children, finding them more inspiring than some adult members of the species.
He is also fond of animals and spent time at the zoo, where he says he discovered how a peacock looks “undressed.”
“A peacock without feathers is like a very unappealing, big chicken,” he said, adding, “There are a lot of people like that.”
A version of this article appeared in print on November 19, 2010, on page A8 of the New York edition.
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